#//yes im STILL tired whoops

[starryalpacasstuff]

Knock Knock Boys: A Queer Asian Lens

I didn't watch Knock Knock Boys as it was airing, because it didn't really seem like the kind of show I'd be into. However, this post by @lurkingshan and @waitmyturtles' enthusiastic recommendation convinced me to give it a shot. Having binged the entirety of the series in a day, I can say that the show was an absolute delight to watch.

I've seen plenty of people talking about how wonderfully sex positive the show was, so I'm not going to bother with going too much into it, but I will say that the drama clearly showed the kind of sex education and awareness that is desperately needed around the world. I also really liked how Lukpeach and Latte were the ones responsible for pretty much all of the sex education in the show. It was very realistic in that, in my experience, it's extremely common for teenagers and young adults to get a majority of their knowledge about sex from their friends and the internet. The show had a very clear message about the importance of talking freely about sex with younger generations, because the taboo on the topic only harms teenagers in the long run.

Now, besides that, there was one more issue that I thought the show did wonderfully: it showed how asian kids are often hesitant to discuss things with their parents because they assume the worst in the beginning. I'm having some trouble articulating this, because it's such an abstract, ingrained concept to me, so forgive me if this is incoherent. I'm also generalizing my experience as an Indian, so please do correct me if I'm wrong here. That being said, having been raised in a society that values respect and listening to elders without question, discussing alternate ideas with parents can be a very difficult thing for most of us. It's easy to assume what parents would say to an idea and decide that trying to convince them otherwise is a task that is either futile or requires too much energy.

The best way I can describe is that the mindset becomes "It's better to ask for forgiveness if you get caught instead of asking for permission straight away". For example, had Almond asked his mother if he could stay with three other guys, she would've most definitely flat out refused, since she would've had a lot of preconceived notions about the idea. But, because Almond is able to show her that he's happy as he was, she was perfectly fine with him continuing to stay with the others. I think that's the hallmark of most asian parents, they want us to be happy but they're convinced that they know what kind of life will make us happy. They did something similar with Peak and his father, but my feelings on that are a little more complex, so we'll come back to this.

Peak and Thanwa, man. I loved Latte and Almond but these two just stole the show for me. I know some people felt frustrated with Peak's dallying and hesitance, but I just felt so sad for him, and something about his situation just hit very close to home. And Seng, the actor that he is. One particular moment that stuck with me was the scene when he leaned against the door while Jumper attacked Max. I must've rewatched that moment half a dozen times, because his acting was impeccable. I will say, I wish that they'd given us a better resolution on the arc after Max, but those are mostly minor quibbles. What I really wanted to talk about was the arc with Peak's father. Peak gathering the courage to tell his father with the support from his found family was beautiful. The scene at Knock Knock House the day before Peak left was one of the most magnificent, emotionally charged scenes I've seen in asian ql in a while. Coming from a societ wherein arranged marriage is the norm, the storyline hit hard in all the right places.

But. I did not love the resolution of the arc. I think we've had some conversation about how some shows try to be both in the bubble and out of the bubble simultaneously, and the last two episodes of the show felt a little like that. From what we knew about the father, it felt almost too easy for him to simply accept everything right away. There should have been some struggle for reconciliation. I know that the show has a theme of assumptions and lack of communication disrupting parent-child relationships, but in this case how fast they move on just seems unrealistic. My cynicism aside, even if we assume that the father wasn't homophobic, there should've been more of a conversation on the breaking of the engagement! The social implications, the father asking him why he didn't say anything for so long, Jane's involvement (how did the father know that she knew about this?). The only argument I can see against this is that the father, while initially put off by the revelation, chose to act otherwise to support his son. But then, he most likely wouldn't have insisted they take his car. And there still should've been some sort of a conversation about the engagement. Arranged marriages have a purpose; it's to provide financial and social security. I find it extremely hard to believe that a father who arranged a marriage for his son wouldn't have so much as discuss the implications of being gay with him. They tried to have the engagement have consequences with the wedding banquet, but the resolution for that really only made it worse. This is cynical of me, but I simply cannot suspend my disbelief enough to believe that the entire wedding party was perfectly happy with the turn of events. This whole resolution just seemed out of place in a show that was otherwise so wonderfully grounded in reality while still being absolutely hilarious. I think, if the show had done something a little more similar to GAP, it would've felt more realistic.

All of that aside, I really did enjoy watching the show. It was hilarious and heartwarming, and the characters were absolutely wonderful. The resolution of the final arc did drag it down a little, but I would be lying if I said that watching two queer couples get to celebrate their relationships with their community didn't warm my heart at all (Also, side note- Jane having a girlfriend was a brilliant subversion). All in all, it's a great series. It definitely felt like something new and fresh compared to the kind of qls that I've been watching lately.

[a-heartshaped-object]

pizza dudes

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[autism-corner]

people should care less about getting killed. who cares.

[morphids]

break up with your boyfriend, ellie williams

pairing: bestfriend!ellie x afab, curly haired,bi!reader (college au)

chapter: one shot (8k words whoops my finger slipped got my asd diagnosis today lol ig that explains that) proofread but if there's errors idk what to tell u

warnings: explicit sexual content, 18+ so minors dni, subish!ellie, loserlesbian ellie, poc friendly!! drug mentions, marijuana usage, friends to lovers, angst?? ellie gets her coochie ate, so does reader, fingering, ✂️✂️, all that good stuff, they essentially worship each other, cheating (not by reader but sus behaviours n thoughts fs) (tw::: men bf’s a dickspawn imsorry) homophobia.

summary: you have a horrible boyfriend, ellie’s always hated him. 

a/n: full word vomit im sorry if its ass but also i kinda lost my composure writing this 🤭🫣😵‍💫

AS ALWAYS FUCK DRUCKMANN AND ALL ZIONISTS, resources for Palestine and the daily click linked on my pinned post!

**

You were tired, drained. Hours had passed and you and your boyfriend were still at it. Angry words and misunderstood sentences all throughout the day had resulted in yet another fight between you.

"Dean, I've said it so many times, I can't go through it again,"

Dean, your boyfriend of a few months had a rocky track record, from keeping in close contact with his ex, to not telling interested girls that he's not single. The situation was always the same, you'd express your discomfort with something and he'd get angry, defensive. Then, eventually after so much arguing would get you to 'realise' that it's no big deal, that you shouldn't have reacted that way at all and in fact, you should apologise to him for making him feel like a cheater.

You had considered breaking up with him, so many times, in fact. Yet, you simply couldn't bring yourself to do it, still holding out with hope that things will improve.

"Baby, I swear nothing is going on, she's just my friend."

"Fine, okay." You ceased, feeling mentally drained by hours of conflict, "I have to go, need to meet Ellie, we have that test soon."

"You're leaving?" Dean said, clearly still agitated and pumping from the fight,

"Yes, Dean," you sighed, glancing in the mirror to double-check that your makeup hadn't been ruined from the previous crying, "I told you, this exam is really important," In other words, you have more things to be worrying about than your issues with him.

Gathering your books and piling them into your tote bag, you felt Dean's eyes on you, silently steaming as he saw you pick up your books.

"I'll see you later," Without looking back, you grabbed your keys from the side of the door and headed out.

He always had a problem with Ellie, which you couldn't understand, she was always supportive and kind to you. What reason would he have to dislike her?

You had been friends ever since that first physics class three years ago, you had sat in the row in front of her, over fifteen minutes into the lecture had passed until you felt a tap at your shoulder. Turning, you were greeted with green eyes and a smiling face adorned with light freckles.

"Hey, you got a spare pen?" She looked bashful, almost embarrassed that she hadn't been prepared even for the first class of the year. A half smile was placed on her lips. Amused, you gladly handed her a pen, pleased that you had an abundance of pens neglected at the bottom of your tote bag. You were always prepared, just not the most organised.

At the end of the lecture, she tried to hand you back the pen, but you refused and insisted she kept it, was she planning on asking someone for every class she had? That was just inefficient.

When you wouldn't accept the pen back, she ripped out a rough square from a page of her notebook, scribbling her number quickly so she could pay you back for the pen. 

You had been friends ever since, there was something that just worked. She had been there long before Dean and you would be damned if he was to get in the way of your friendship.

You had reached Dina and Ellie's place, they both shared the accommodation whilst you lived in a one-bed en-suite in a dorm. Dean lived at his fraternity, which you always hated going to meaning you spent most of the time at your place instead. 

Knocking, you only waited for a few seconds until the door swung open, revealing Ellie, clad in a white tank top and some grey sweatpants. The open door had caused a draught to haze through the air, the faint scent of smoke and music softly playing at a low volume.

"Hey, you." She spoke, smiling that usual smile that was seemingly tattooed on her lips. Ellie moved out of the doorway to let you in, closing the door behind you as you stepped into the familiar, comforting living room.

"Hey," your tone must have not been well received, as it prompted a,

"Well, what's gotten into you?"

"I've had the worst day, Dean-" you were interrupted by a slightly exaggerated groan, with an added,

"What has he done this time?"

"Ellie.." you sighed, dropping your tote from your shoulder and to the floor, kneeling down to pull out your books and pens.

"I'm serious," she threw her hands up, leaning against the edge of the desk where her work had been all set out already, "He's always up to some bullshit."

Ellie was confused, annoyed actually as you explained the situation to her. In her head, as a lesbian, the solution to these kinds of issues was so, so obvious to her; break up with him, he's not worth it. She had repeated this rhetoric to many of her men-loving friends, all of which refused to listen to her only to turn out heartbroken in the end, anyway.

"I wasn't exactly being rational either," you tried to explain, not that you were making excuses for him, but you felt a certain need to defend your relationship with Ellie. She was always so judgemental of the people you dated. You knew deep down that it was her way of looking out for you, she had consistently been the one to bring you comfort during your relationship breakdowns. And there had been a few of them.

"Don't do that, that's exactly what he wants," She spoke sympathetically, her words very soft considering that, mentally she was currently fighting Dean, and winning.

What was wrong with these guys? Ellie thought, you had dated some specimens before, but this new fraternity bro, Dean? She couldn't stand him.

Seemingly fuelled by his returned distaste towards her, but she knew the real reason why.

He was a pig. Flirting with any girl that'd give him attention, Ellie had caught him at parties with drunk girls hanging off his arms, inches away from their faces, centimetres away from cheating. Only for him to charm his way out of it when you confronted him. It pained her to see you go through this, especially when there were so many options out there. Like her, for example.

To be frank, Ellie's asking for that pen three years ago hadn't been entirely innocent. Whilst, it wasn't a lie per se, as she did, in fact, not have a pen on her first day, making her feel like the worst student on the planet.

She had taken notice of you when you first walked into that physics class. Eyeliner, framing the outer corners of your eyes and tight curly hair that lay perfectly around your face caught her attention. You were so beautiful, she knew she had to talk to you.

As you two had gotten to know each other over those first few months, her little crush had evolved from simple attraction to a full-blown, 'would rip the sun out of the sky if it meant seeing you smile', feelings situation. Whilst her initial intention had been to try and flirt a little bit, over time (really didn't take that long) Ellie realised that you were something special. The bond and groove you had as platonic friends was too great to risk ruining it all. So she decided, her feelings shouldn't be the thing to damage it. Ellie being Ellie, didn't know how to deal with said feelings, so she had made a pact with herself to never act on them, never expect anything other than platonic behaviour on your part, and never, ever let you find out. So whilst you dated, so did she.

"Anyways, can we talk about, literally anything else now? Like our exam that we have in a few days, perhaps?" You hummed, kicking your shoes off and sprawling on her couch, reaching down into your bag for something you had saved for this exact moment.

"Right, 'cos studying is the reason why you're laying dead on my couch right now." Ellie chuckled, joining you and holding your legs up to settle her body on the couch as well, before placing your legs on top of her lap.

"What are you even looking for?"

"Just wait, you'll see." You responded, still rooting through the bag, god where is it?

"Well, not if you can't find it in that damn bag, how do you even find anything in those?"

"Shut up," you chuckled, feeling better already. That's something you loved about Ellie, no matter what would happen to you, a few minutes with her and you'd feel like you had taken uppers.

"Ah, finally," you breathed out, fishing out a single joint that had become embarrassingly bent in the trauma that is, being an object lost inside the bottom of a tote bag.

Ellie laughed when her eyes caught sight of the bent joint, rubbing her eyes as they started to tear from the entertainment.

"You didn't have to go through that much effort to pull out that monster, plus you know I always have enough here, we don't need to smoke yours."

"It may look unfortunate, but this is the best shit in town right now." You tried to sell, "Got it from Xav,"

"Xav? How did you manage that?"

"One of Dean's frat brothers put in a huge order with him and sold me some, thought I'd save it so we could smoke it together." 

"You truly know the way to my heart," Ellie gushed, before leaning over your legs, to grab the closest ashtray and a lighter, passing it to you, roller's rights, after all.

"This doesn't look like studying, though," Ellie spoke, eyes falling to your lips as they wrapped over the end of the joint, sparking and taking a drag. She excused her thoughts.

"I just want some peace before I have to focus on work, you know?" You said, exhaling out the smoke.

Ellie sighed, knowing Dean was truly taking a toll on you, she watched as your face fell, obviously being reminded of the previous events. She wishes there was more she could do, how many times could she say leave him, before it sounded too obvious? Too pushy? Too out of line?

"Fuck him, don't worry about that for now. You're with me, this is a Dean-free zone." Ellie cheered, taking the lit joint as you passed it to her.

You felt her fingers trail random lines and shapes on your leg as she smoked, probably not even aware she was doing it. It was comfortable and set off a wave of sleepiness to hit you.

Ellie passed you the joint back,

"You going to that party tonight?" She asked,

"I don't know, I think Dean wants to go but I was planning on sitting this one out,"

"Why don't you come? Dina and Jesse will also be there, so you don't have to spend the whole party with him,"

"Fine, only because I haven't seen Dina and Jesse for a while,"

"I can live with that," she chuckled.

Deciding you were no longer comfy in that position, you lifted your legs up off Ellie, before manoeuvring your body so that you were sat side by side. Passing the joint back to her, you rested your head on her shoulder. What you didn't notice was Ellie's visible tensing the second you laid your head on her.

It wasn't like it was unusual behaviour from you, yet she reacted like this every time. 

"What do you think of it?"

"Fuck yeah, it's good," she swallowed, head turning to glance over at you resting your head comfortably on her shoulder, "You falling asleep down there?"

"No..." you mumbled, your voice visibly getting quieter as you were getting sleepier. You were just so tired. Constant arguing with Dean, working or studying. You needed a break, plus Ellie had a habit of being super comfortable to nap on.

"You sure?"

"No..."

"It's alright, have a nap, we’ll study later."

Ellie chuckled, she continued smoking the joint to its ends, relaxed by the sound of your breathing as you fell asleep. She took the opportunity to observe you for a minute, you looked peaceful, a hell of a lot more peaceful than you were when you first entered. She wished that you could always be that content, at peace. Ellie wanted you to be happy, whether with her or not, she just didn't want you so stressed and drained by yet another unhealthy relationship.  

It was then she took time to think, how messy the situation had truly become.

—

After your nap, you and Ellie actually did finally study, spending a few hours going over the course material and sharing notes. With a few distractions here and there, but successful nonetheless.

You were back at home, Dean seemingly long gone back to his own place, as you got yourself dressed for this party. Texting Ellie that you were ready, you awaited her knock on your door, as your place was a bit closer to the party you decided you'd make your way there together and you'd crash back at your house later.

Once she arrived, you two made your way to the party, it was in the next block of student accommodation, so it was only a quick walk.

Before long, you had reached the party, greeted by its loudness with thumping music and loud chatter.

"It's fucking packed," you complained, already nervous. The bass of the loud music echoing in your chest, exacerbating the anxiety you felt.  

"It will be okay, let's go find Dina and Jesse,"

It took a few glances to land on them but they had been settled in a corner with two other girls. One with short black hair and the other with long, blonde hair.

Making your way towards them, Dina spotted you and Ellie and eagerly waved you guys over to their spot.

"Bitch! Where have you been?" Dina questioned, and truly it had been an unreasonable amount of time since you'd seen her, which is weird considering how often you were at her and Ellie's place.

"Don't get me started," you sighed, whilst smiling at her and wrapping your arms around her.

"Well, it's good to see you, we missed you!" Gesturing towards herself and Jesse, who took his cue to also greet you.

Dina introduced you to her friends who were also sitting with them, the one with black hair was introduced as Cat, and the blonde was called Abby.

They were nice but you weren't too sure about the dark-haired one, she seemed a bit standoffish to you, only, but welcoming and friendly to everyone else in your group, and especially to Ellie. You noted it and placed the thought at the back of your head for dissection later.

In the ten minutes you had been there, Dean had spotted you and walked over. Causing an eye roll to come from Ellie,

"Hey, you're here!" He was drunk, words slurred and eyes heavily lidded. How much had he already had to drink?

Wrapping his arms around your waist, and nuzzling his face into your neck, the scent of alcohol lingered on him and you found that you didn't want him to be that close to you.

Your eyes met Ellie's briefly before she quickly looked away and took a long sip from her cup, which had been filled up with some vodka and whiskey mixed with some chaser by Dina. She turned her head away from you and began talking to Cat, faces a lot closer than most people. 

You tore your eyes away from their interaction, turning to face Dean.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Dean shrugged, too incapacitated to care too much before making his way back to some of his frat brothers. Yuck.

You were making your way to the bathroom, hoping to find the right door, but you weren't successful the first time, the second or the third. You were starting to wonder how many goddamn rooms were in this place until you finally reached it, and it was of course labelled with a stupid little diy frat sticker that said 'bathroom' featuring other, more immature graffiti. Apt, you thought.

The light was on but the door was slightly ajar, thinking nothing of it you walked in believing it to be empty. The room was also, of course, occupied. You mentally laughed at your own bad luck as you saw Abby sneaking a cigarette out the window. Her body perched up on the windowsill as she breathed the smoke out the open gap.

"Shit- oh it's just you," she chuckled, holding her hand on her heart indicating that you had slightly frightened her, clearly from her doing something she isn't supposed to be doing.

"Sorry, thought it was empty," you said, turning your body towards the door in an effort to leave her to it,

"You don't have to leave I'm just smoking this before any of my team sees me,"

That brought a smile to reach your lips,

"Why are you sneaking cigarettes like a 16 year old?"

"Athletes aren't really meant to smoke, but shit happens. I just don't want to hear it from coach." She mumbled taking her final drag, throwing the butt out the window.

"I'll take it to my grave," You promised, making a little zip motion on your lips.

"All yours," she smiled, making her way out of the bathroom.

"I won't take long, we can head down to the group together,"

So you did, exiting the bathroom, Abby smiling at you,

"Let's go?"

"Sure,"

You had travelled down the stairs, engaging in random, friendly small talk until you had reached everyone. Abby sat back down next to Dina and Jesse, who were ranting amongst themselves, whilst Cat and Ellie had been left to their own devices. Now, you and Ellie had been friends for a while, you kinda knew what she looked like when she was flirting with girls. And this was definitely that. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by Dean respawning in your face again,

"Wanna explain that?"

That completely broke you out of your little trance, explain what?

"What?"

"Why were you in the bathroom with her?"

"She was-" you remembered your promise to her, "We were just chatting, nothing weird happened, if that's what you're thinking."

He grabbed your wrist and walked with you to a quieter corner of the room,

"Why are you lying?"

"Dean, nothing happened we were chatting because she was in there when I walked in,"

"Do you know what she is?"

"I just met her today, Dean," You didn't want to deal with this right now, Ellie had said she was going to try and help you escape Dean tonight and instead she got annoyed by his presence and began flirting with Cat.

"What is with you and hanging out with all of those d-...", he trailed off,

"Those what, Dean?" You were beyond angry at this point, you didn't like what he was implying.

"You know, all those le-"

"Hey," your altercation was interrupted, "Everything cool?" Ellie was looking between you both, eyebrows furrowed as she looked you over, gauging the situation. She knew you could fight your own battles, but when a drunk man is getting too handsy on someone it's always good practice to remain vigilant.

"We're fine." He said, his words less slurred now, a bit more pissed off. Egged on by the fact that his very point had just interrupted him.

"Oh yeah?" She pressed, making sure to look at you when she asked, having watched the interaction since he dragged you away.

"Yeah, I'm okay," you added, trying to give her a grateful look with your eyes, whether she got the message or not wasn't confirmed. Ellie wasn't one to let things go, but then she asked you if you wanted to be left alone with him and when you simply said 'Yeah I can deal with this," there was nothing more she could do without being too out of line. 

Sighing to herself, she dragged her feet back to the group, silently warring with herself over her actions, wondering if she put her nose in someone else's business or whether she didn't act enough. She had decided that was enough for the night, she'd try and focus on something else.

Whilst you were frustrated; you didn't want to explain the situation to her yet, at this point.

"Dean I don't like what you're trying to say, I don't want to be near you right now, we can talk about this at home."

"Sure, whatever." He walked off. You exhaled a sigh that had been festering in your chest for a while.

Wandering back to Dina, Jesse and Abby, noticing a considerable lack of Ellie and Cat. But at least you could clear your mind, Dina offered you another drink- which you gladly took.

You were in conversations with your friends, a good amount of minutes had passed and you finally caught sight of Ellie. You felt your heart twitch, your stomach churning at the sight.

Ellie was engaged in some heated make-out with that Cat, her hands tightly wrapped around the back of the girl's neck. The lights of the room bounced off her skin, illuminating them in deep reds and blues, as their lips moved against each other. It was hot, you couldn't lie. Perhaps the alcohol had hit you a lot more than you thought. You had seen Ellie in action, but not in action.

You felt yourself start to stare, lost in the sight of Ellie until you felt your breathing start to quicken and your legs fidgeting. You had to pull your eyes away, shaming yourself in your head for even looking that long, like a damned pervert.

Taking another sip of your drink, your thoughts trailed, you wondered what it would feel like to be in Cat's position, to feel Ellie's passionate grasp and soft lips against yours. You wondered if her kisses would feel loving and warm, not cold like you were used to.

You quickly dismissed your thoughts, blaming it on the alcohol, wondering what was spurring this on, all of a sudden.

You soon decided it was probably time to head home, the party had lived its course and you were in a worse mood than when you first got there. Mission failed, indeed.

Saying your goodbyes to Dina, Jesse and Abby you made your way through the dance floor to Ellie.

"Hey, I'm gonna head out," You interrupted a conversation occurring between Ellie and Cat.

"Oh, you sure?" She glanced between you and Cat, "Will you be okay getting home?" She asked.

"Yeah, I'm gonna find Dean and we're gonna go,"

"Oh," her face soured, "You're really still going home with that guy?"

"Well..." you stilled, you didn't exactly want to, but you knew he wouldn't give up until he got to say his piece, regardless of where you were, "We have stuff to talk about, I guess." Your voice and tone sound beaten, tired.

"I see," She glanced you over, hesitant, as if she was about to say something but then changed her mind. You could almost see thoughts flying in her eyes. 

"See you later," Cat smiled at you, though it didn't quite reach the corners of her eyes, no crease of skin. Everything seemed polite on the surface, but there were weird undertones in her voice, indifference. The vibe of that was definitely weird, right?

"Yeah,"

With that, you found Dean and left to go home.

—

Panting, you were panting. Heavy breaths mixed with sloppy touches in the darkness of red and blue lights.

You pulled away, glancing at Ellie, the corners of her plump lips curling into a smirk as she caressed your thighs. Fingers teasing near your entrance, you were completely ready for her touch, dripping, waiting.

"I can't wait to taste you, baby." she spoke, her words soft but with a hint of a growl that excited you, eager for what was about to come.

Then your eyes split open, and you were lay on your bed, hours had passed and you had been fast asleep. Sleep came easy, induced by the alcohol you had consumed, as you realised you had just been dreaming.

It took you a few seconds to stir and become conscious of what you had been dreaming about. Then the shame hit. What the fuck was that?

It didn't last long though, before you heard Dean's voice,

"That was hot,"

You slightly jumped at the surprise of his voice, not expecting him to have been awake and especially aware that you were having a dream of such nature, about your best friend of all people.

"You got me all hard, babe." You suddenly felt too overwhelmed, flashes of Ellie's lips and fingers cursed your mind as Dean's voice was mixed into your thoughts.

Confusion and panic hit your senses, you didn't want to look at Dean's expecting face when your mind was still reeling with the faint remnants of being under Ellie's warm and comforting touch, even in the astral plane, your body still warm and wanting. But not for him. Disgust overwhelmed your veins, poisoning the air in your lungs as you realised you couldn't think of anything worse than him touching you. It was as if that dream had been a message, a sign that this wasn't what you wanted. Or deserved. A sudden unexpected epiphany.

You quickly shot up and ran to the bathroom, no words spoken between you as you closed the door. Ensuring space between you both.

You sighed and grabbed at the roots of your hair, thinking of how utterly fucked this is.

You thought back to Ellie, would she be disgusted at your thoughts? Would she feel weird and uncomfortable if she knew you had been thinking of her that way? Her best, and very platonic, friend. She definitely isn't interested, you thought, remembering the way she had grabbed Cat closer to her and embraced her in a kiss that could only enflame your very being. Jealous. You realised, that's what that feeling was. It seemed to occur a lot regarding Ellie, that feeling.

Dean's voice blared through the door, reverberating through the walls.

"It's about that blond bitch isn't it?" Your eyebrows pulled together, fucks sake.

"Dean, please." It was stupid o'clock in the morning, the last thing you wanted was yet another argument.

"I knew those fucking lesbians would fuck with your head, you've always been a stupid woman, following whoever gives you attention."

His words hurt, and doubly pissed you off. How dare he? Those were your friends he was talking about.

You opened the door, Dean all blotchy and red in the face, fuelled by the past months of his bullshit and borderline abuse, this was the final nail. He was not about to say disgusting things and expect no repercussions. Lifting your hand, you put your entire back into connecting your palm with his cheek, made real by the smacking sound of skin, loud as a gunshot in the dark hours of the night contrasting the silence of no other surrounding sound in the dorms.

"Fuck you, Dean. I'm over this, get out." You stared him right in the eye as he rubbed the throbbing skin of his cheek to alleviate some pain. You couldn't help but feel a hint of relief that it had actually hurt him, as horrid as that sounds. You weren't a violent person, by any means, yet the continuous accusations, the newly exposed homophobia, his vile behaviour - it had to be done. You were done letting him treat you like that.

"I don't need you anyway, can find ten other girls that'd give me what I want."

"Go do that, then." You huffed, wondering why you hadn't done this earlier.

"Already have, sweetheart." He smirked, eyes glinting as he finally lifted the shroud of lies he had been filling your head with. You always knew deep down, you just chose to ignore it. Worms in the brain feasting at any rational thought and your self-respect. You didn't find it in yourself to get angrier.

"Get out of my house, Dean." You finalised, arms crossed over your chest, you just hoped he'd go willingly.

"You're not worth it, anyway." He cements, body turning to put on his shoes, chuckling as his heavy presence finally leaves your door.

You let out a breath, relief, shame and anger seeping into the deepest part of your being.

You were glad he's gone, truly. You just wish you had killed it sooner. Ellie was right, he ain't shit.

You sat on the edge of your bed, suddenly finding that the dark, empty space in your room was doing you no favours.

Pulling out your phone, you drafted a text to Ellie,

3.47 a.m:  you awake?

It was a long shot, you almost gave up on a response for tonight until you felt your phone buzz.

3.49 a.m:  ..always

3.49 a.m:  whats up?

Your lips tilted into a weak smile, before responding,

3.50 a.m:  u should be sleeping rn!

3.50 a.m:  umm so should u

3.51 a.m:  whats wrong?

Sighing, you had to bite the bullet, already started it now.

3.52 a.m:  he's an asshole, i broke up with him

A few minutes passed, and you wondered what was taking so long even though in the grand scheme of time it was only a few seconds, really. It was just anticipation, time felt dragged out awaiting her response. You didn't know that Ellie was laying on her bed feverishly typing, deleting and re-typing, overthinking how to respond. She wanted to say, 'I knew this' and how she was happy he was gone because he was a loser who didn't deserve you anyway. How she never liked him. Ellie didn't want to be insensitive, though, lest she hurt your feelings further. 

3.57 a.m: how are you feeling?

3.58 a.m:  im just glad he's gone tbh

3.58 a.m: had to be done

Ellie couldn't help the hint of a smile that fought its way onto her features, she typed her response. Picking at the dry skin around her thumb with her teeth as she sent her next message, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

3.59 a.m: he didn't deserve you anyway, you're too good for that.

You felt a warmth rush through you, stomach tightening as you read into her words. You wished that she meant it, that her feelings matched yours. Your mind thinks back to Cat, instantly murdering any hope in your heart.

You don't remember when your feelings for Ellie began to change, but looking back on it, you had felt so unsatisfied, seldom comfortable with your past lovers. Ellie was the only person who knew you, truly. Who had loved you and made you feel so safe, her comforting presence always soothing you, you felt like a person around Ellie. Whole. It had just taken some time for life to knock some sense into you to realise. It has always been Ellie. 

4.01 a.m: want me to come to you or you wanna come here?

4.01 a.m: it's so late you don't have to! i'll be ok promise

4.02 a.m: hah good one.. gimme ten mins

Ellie was not messing, not much time passed before she was knocking on the front door of your dorm. 

"Hey," Her voice was soft, gentle, her eyes shining with such a tender glint. She's always had such pretty eyes, you thought. 

"Hi,"

You moved a few steps to give her space to enter,

"How you doing?" She wrapped her arms around you, holding you tighter than you expected,

"Honestly, I'm okay," Ellie took a look at you, gauging your overall mood and believed it, you already looked lighter, less weight (*Dean) holding down your shoulders. 

"Think I mentally checked out a long time ago," you added, sitting down on your bed and lifting your laptop screen to load a show, acting somewhat as a buffer amongst the silence.

"So what happened?"

You couldn't help the audible groan that escaped your lips, "He got pissy when he saw me leaving the bathroom with Abby and accused me of cheating,"

"Abby?" Ellie had taken off her coat and shoes, joining you on your spot on the bed.

"Yeah, she was smoking in the bathroom hiding from their coach, we walked down to the group together, it was only small talk. I was so confused, he started saying things about who I was hanging out with,".

"Meaning?"

"He's a fucking homophobic prick,"

"He said hanging out with 'all those lesbians was fucking with my head', said I follow whoever gives me attention," you sighed, "then I slapped him."

Ellie couldn’t help it, she felt a swell of pride that you slapped him, stood up for yourself. He deserved so much worse, she thought.

Ellie couldn't hide the smirk that reached her lips, as much as she tried to suppress it, it still came.

"That's my girl,"

You didn't expect your stomach to twist when those words left her mouth, opening something up deep inside.

"He finally admitted to cheating, and then it was over," You sighed.

"I'm proud of you," Ellie muttered, fidgeting with her nail-beds, failing to meet your eyes.

"You don't have to say that, I know how pathetic this is,"

Resting your head on the headboard, you brought your legs into a cross,

"Hey, I mean it, it must've been a lot," She paused, her hand coming to rest on your knee, rubbing her thumb over the skin absentmindedly, like it was second nature to her. Perhaps, it was.

You looked over at her, eyes trailing down her features, freckles and the green eyes that still weren't meeting yours, suddenly shy.

"You're amazing, you deserve to know that," she paused, eyes finally meeting your own, determined.

"So are you," Your voice lowered, trailing back to the pretty brunette from earlier.

“So what’s going on with you and that girl?” You shouldn’t have said anything, but it was out before you could stop it. Clearly, your brain kept thinking about it.

“It’s..” Ellie thought about what to say, it would sound extremely horrible to say Cat was mainly a distraction, unfair as she is a lovely person, but it’s true.

“Nothing more than what you saw,”

Vague, was that best response to that, Ellie thought.

“I saw quite a bit,”

“Honestly, she’s great, we get along and all but..’ She’s not you. “I don’t think it’ll go any further.”

“She seemed to really like you, why not?”

Ellie almost wanted to laugh, it was so painfully obvious to her, how could you not see it?

“I guess.. I want something different.”

Her eyes connected with yours, the contact between your eyes felt different now, charged. You caught yourself stealing a glance at her lips, which slightly parted as she spotted where your eyes had fallen.

“Like what?”

She had no response, it was either avoid the question, or firm it. Ellie didn’t know which was the right answer.

"Ellie.." You paused, words caught in your throat, as scenarios rushed through your head like a rolodex of different possible outcomes. Heart tugging at your brain to do something, anything.

"Yeah?" Her head leaned closer to yours, your breathing slowly becoming heavier, the room's environment growing thicker, harder to inhale. Her hand still on your knee, unmoving now, frozen in place.

You could almost make contact with her lips, if you moved just a tiny inch closer. Her hand trailed slightly further up your leg, just a little above your knee, almost as if to test the waters. You wondered if she felt like you did, if she could also feel her veins light up and her body inflamed. Were her lips just as eager to touch yours? Were her hands longing to feel you just as well?

Before you realised, it was out.

"Ellie, can I kiss you?"

A beat, and no response. You felt your heart start to panic, already thinking over how to pretend that had never happened. You almost regretted it, until her hand reached for the back of your neck, reducing the distance between your faces.

Lips meeting yours, shyly at first, hesitant. Ellie’s mind was whirling, feeling her heartbeat pump aggressively throughout her body, there was no way this was reality, she thought. No way that you were here in front of her, asking to kiss her, after all this time of her yearning, feeling like a useless lesbian who would never ever make a move on you.

She could almost feel herself kicking her feet in the air, as she decided to firm it. Scared if she waited any longer, the opportunity would cease to exist, pass her by and join one of those regrets she’d think about as an elder.

Your lips met hers back, eager to push for contact, eager to push closer. Your zeal spurring hers on, as her hands clasped the back of your neck, keeping you in place. Not like you wanted to be anywhere else.

This was it. This is what you should’ve been feeling in the past.

Ellie’s soft, plump lips melted over yours, taunting with a bite and pulling your bottom lip out before entering her tongue into your mouth.

Fuck. That was hot.

You felt yourself getting hotter, damper by the minute as the kiss continues, Ellie’s hand getting more comfortable and trailing down to your thighs.

You pulled apart for a second, taking the time to catch your breath as you looked into her eyes, usually green but now much darker, enhanced by enlarged pupils as she glazed her sights over you. An unreadable expression on her face,

“Are you okay?”

“You’re so hot, and amazing and I-I really want to keep going, I just- I don’t know, I don’t want this to be like a .. rebound thing. I really care about you but I just, don’t want to feel like that, you know?” She rambled on, her thoughts getting ahead of themselves as she was pondering if it happened, then if it was too late to return to what you had been, before things got all naked and messy.

You understood, of course you did. You had literally broken up with him just maybe two hours ago. But it didn’t matter, you had to say it. Let her know and reassure her that it was only her.

“Ellie.. you could never be a rebound to me,” You stammered a little before the next part, “You’re the one I’ve wanted this whole time. It’s always been you.” You pecked her lips, grabbing her face, looking into her eyes hoping she’d see the seriousness in yours.

“I’ve wanted you for a really long time,” she broke contact, “I just didn’t wanna fuck shit up,”

“I mean it, Ellie, I’ve never felt as certain about something as I do this,”

Her stature relaxed, you continued, “I love you, Ellie. I didn’t love anyone else,”

“I love you,” she answered, the corner of her lip tilting up, eyes brighter.

“I’ll just have to show you how much, if that’s okay with you.”

Her gaze turned curious, before nodding, watching as your hands danced down her sides and ever so slightly underneath the fabric of her shirt.

“You can do whatever you want with me, honestly,” she murmured. You caught her body tensing, almost shaky as you lifted her shirt. Warm hands covering the sides of her defined stomach, you squeezed a little, just enough to rile her up.

Which it did, Ellie’s eyebrows furrowed as she anticipated your next move. Losing control of her lungs, she was about to explode.

“This okay?” Your hand met the band of her sports bra, digging scarcely into her skin beneath it.

“Yeah,” she exhaled, stuck in place, watching, her cheeks becoming flushed, “Shit,”

You hands pressed over her breasts, tightening pressure around as she let out a content sigh. You dipped your head down to wrap your lips around her nipple, licking laps over the tip and softly blowing air over them when you decided you were done, chuckling to yourself at the goosebumps that now raised on her skin,

“Don’t tease,” She murmured, composure dwindling.

“Sorry, can’t help myself,”

You kissed down her stomach to her pelvis, feeling her restlessness grow as her body refused to stay still, itching for you to do more.

You leaned back up, placing either leg over her torso and looked her over, making sure she was okay as your hand moved lower down, seemingly in a mind of its own as it crept past the waistband, meeting her skin as you held eye contact.

Ellie folded, shutting her eyes as the waiting became too much, you tapped her leg with your free hand,

“Eyes on me,”

When she held your eye contact once again, you teased a finger past her folds, almost letting out a groan at how wet she was, at how easily you could feel her arousal.

“Fuck Els,” you sighed, struggling to contain yourself as your thoughts grew more indecent, slipping a finger in further as Ellie writhed underneath you, head hanging back.

“More fingers, please,” Her voice was strained, breathy as she closed her eyes, embarrassed to be feeling this undone already.

“Yeah?” The side of your mouth curled up, goaded by the sound of her voice. She nodded impishly, covering her eyes with her wrist, as her other hand reached to grip around your hip. A tight squeeze followed on your skin.

“I can do that, baby,” Following instructions, you slipped two more fingers into her, falling into a rhythm as you felt her clench around you. She glanced over your body, legs spread over her midsection as you leaned your arm back, hips gently grinding over hers- an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure building up.

Her hand grabbed at the hem of your shirt, pulling it slightly and groaning when the tight material pushed against your breasts, she always loved how you never wore bras, stiff nipples poking through the fabric.

“Fuck, clothes off, now,” she let out in soft grunts, as she broke your wrist from her to take off your shirt, rubbing her hands over your newly exposed skin “Always fucking wanted to see you like this,” She spoke, your fingers meeting her centre again, “So fucking pretty,”

“You feel so good, Ellie,” You gasped, your hips involuntarily grinding on top of her stomach, “So fucking good ‘n wet for me,”

“Fuck-“ Ellie’s voice cut off as she bit into the back of her hand, her own hips rolling your hand in deeper, hitting her walls more than before as she let out a mewl. “Feels so fuckin’ good, angel,” she whimpered, voice strained as she continued to ride into your hand.

It was the hottest noise you’d ever heard, and you wanted to keep drawing it out of her. To keep hearing her moan for you, and your actions only.

Suddenly, you had something you prove, both to her and to yourself. Flashes of Cat in your mind as you wanted her to forget other women existed.

You unwrapped yourself off her lap, removing your fingers, kissing her stomach as you pulled her pants and underwear down, grabbing her legs and holding them open, exposing her even further.

“Damn,” you said, glancing over her wet inner thighs as they glistened, all for you.

“Shut up,” she spoke, voice tight as a side smile swept over her features, as she grabbed the back of your head, pushing you closer to her pulsing core, throbbing and dripping waiting for you to make contact.

You licked a line up her heat, moaning to yourself at the taste of her. You grew light-headed, thinking you could die happily just between Ellie’s legs, becoming addicted to her moans as you ate her out, head in a daze as she squeezed her thighs tight around your head, almost cutting off your air supply- her moans growing more frequent, as she reached closer. Your free hand moving up to wrap itself around her breast, squeezing tighter around her nipple.

Deciding to have a little more fun, you slipped two fingers into her wetness as you continued to lap your tongue around her clit, pushing up into her as you sucked. Dragging her delicious sap on your tongue as it marred all over your face, cheeks glassy with her warm sleek.

Ellie had lost control over her vocal cords at this point, moans slipping out from between her sweet lips no matter how hard she tried to suppress them. Hell, you were moaning too, despite not even being touched yet, dripping all over yourself, ass up and needy as you rolled your hips over thin air as you continued to soak yourself into Ellie.

There could be no coming back from this, you thought, not now that you had been exposed to the delicacy that is Ellie Williams. You were holding on to her and not letting go.

You felt Ellie’s moans get shorter, cutting themselves off from its full power before the next one came, her hips moving more haphazardly up to meet your tongue, she was close.

You glanced at her, her eyes closed, brows pinched up and mouth agape, a slight sheen to her skin from sweat, she’s so attractive, you thought.

With your free hand, your fingers guided themselves onto your own folds, rolling over your own clit for some release, the lack of hand on her caused Ellie’s eyes to lull over at you, the sight of your arched back, wet cheeks from her slick, spread legs as you touched yourself all whilst still fucking her into oblivion.

The damned sight of you, just as undone as Ellie, without her even touching you, was enough to cause the coil in her abdomen to twist, before she came all over your face, breath slowing into heavy pants as her body twitched. You lapped her up her residue, finally removing your face from between her legs as she looked at you. Wordless.

“Wh-what the fuck..” Ellie’s weak voice trailed, before laughing and forcing a kiss on your lips, hands wrapped around your jaw as she tasted the remnants of herself on you.

There was no way you were about to give her the best orgasm of her life and expect her to not do anything back? Funny joke. Ellie was ravenous now.

She placed you underneath her, biting around your thighs before bending her head down, her tongue having been desperate for a taste since that first day she saw you. “I wanna fuck you so bad,” Your legs tightened around her as the air from her voice hit your centre, “Been dyin’ for a taste,” You looked at her, tip of your eyebrows raised up as you took in her words, how long had she wanted you back? Her words caused you to shudder, whimpering as she continued.

“Fuck,” You said, voice breaking as her tongue rippled over your pussy as your hips shook, slurping up the honey that had been left neglected. Long, slender fingers meeting your centre that had felt so, so desperate and needy for her to touch.

“G’na show what you’ve been missing,” She hummed, as her fingers picked up pace working harmoniously with her tongue as she fucked into you. Warm muscle rolling over your pulsing clit. Fingers rubbing over your velvet walls which sucked her further in, skin dragging out with her soaked fingers when they recoiled out, the image obscene. “What was waiting for you this whole time,”

“Els- shit, wanna feel you,”

“What you want, baby?” She gasped out, in between breaths as fingers toyed with your clit.

“Wanna feel you, y-your fucking pussy on mine-fuck,” you cut yourself off, embarrassed. The desire was simply too strong, you were dizzy just from the thought of it. Ellie seemed to share your enthusiasm, her heart skipping a beat, the thought kindling her veins with heat.

This was truly a gift from the heavens, she thought.

“Shit- yeah, okay.” Ellie exhaled out, as she got you into position, grabbing one of your smaller pillows to cushion underneath you as she placed her legs over yours, getting into place as she rubbed her clit over yours, hips lolling over your pelvis.

The sounds were debaucherous as they filled the room, hot and wet, as if the spirit of Dionysus, himself had possessed you. Invoking you with bacchanal, carnal desire as you could think of nothing else than the sublime vice that is Ellie Williams.

“Fuck, Els, I’m gonna come,”

Ellie groaned, rocking her hips over yours, her defined abs on show, breasts working with Earth’s gravity as they sprung up and down to match her movements, hair falling out of her half-bun, causing some strands to stick to her face, completely dishevelled. You looked at her, eyes attached to yours, lust ruling over them, then looked back down to where you were both intertwined. You trapped your bottom lip with your teeth at the sight before you.

Her sap mingling with yours, leaking out from her cunt as it folds over your own, Wrapping you with her warmth, pulsating around yours. Ellie’s body still trembling from before.

“Then come for me, baby,”

You were gone. With her words, you felt yourself spilling out against her, not being able to hold back the climax of your arousal spurting out from you, splashes reaching Ellie’s legs.

“Fuck, Ellie!” Your voice drawled out, as the wave ran through you,

“That’s it, angel, come all over me,” She smirked down at you, breath heavy as she watched your eyes glaze over, lips parted and chest heavy as you finally came down. A ardent glaze over her eyes.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” She gaped, eyes transfixed on your figure as her reeling mind came down from the high.

“Shit, neither did I,” you laughed, covering your mouth, suddenly shy. With your head still in the clouds, you weren’t feeling as overly self-aware.

“That was fucking hot, and I’m not done.”

—

leave a comment, reblog or like if ya enjoyed <3

[jd-loves-fiction]

𝐎𝐩𝐢𝐚

n. the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable—their pupils glittering, bottomless and opaque—as if you were peering through a hole in the door of a house, able to tell that there’s someone standing there, but unable to tell if you’re looking in or looking out.

✦ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Sir Gawain x GN!Reader

✦ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut + fluff

✦ 𝐰𝐜: 2.2k

✦ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: Minors DO NOT INTERACT thanks. also DONT USE SALIVA AS LUBE THIS IS THE MIDDLE AGES WAAAAHH

✦ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Anyway I havent written anything in a hot second, especially smut, so i might've lost my touch but this man makes me insane. Hope its still enjoyable anyway and im working on some fluffy stuff as well whoop enjoy :)

Stupid quest. Stupid forest. Stupid rainwater puddle.

You didn't see it – you were too damn busy staring into those gorgeous brown eyes of his, lashes lowered ever so slightly in a way so tender it might as well have been what knocked you over.

“Oh goodness.” Sir Gawain exhales a second after the splash, arms reaching for you a little too late. Turns out he’d been lost staring at you as well. “A-Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“I–” You start to deny it but think better of it. It’s Gawain, he’d know the answer just from looking at you. “I’m cold. And wet. And tired.”

“I see. Let’s find ourselves a place for the night, yes? The storm from last night might be coming back.” He tells you, reaching out a large hand to pull you up. You take it without hesitation.

Quickly finding yourselves a damp and dingy little cave to pass the night in, Gawain gets to work starting a fire as you shiver uncontrollably. 

“You know–” He begins, fumbling with two rocks and a handful of dryish branches, looking up at you for a moment, “You look good, all soaking wet.”

The warmth of his gaze sweeps over your form, lingering on your shaking shoulders, passing by the water dripping off your linen shirt and how your arms curl around yourself to keep the heat in – heat he stokes with that cheeky look, the quickness of his breath, the biting of his lovely, soft, bottom lip…

A spark goes off, catching fire to the branches, cutting the tension like a hot knife over butter. But it does not dissipate, the fire does not cool, it merely wanes to a simmer.

“I bet you’d look even better.” You blurt out, just to get the last word in before sitting by the flames, not entirely aware of what you’ve just said and where his beautiful, hasty mind would take your words. Then again, you’re much more concerned with not freezing to death.

“Trying to warm up with wet clothes isn’t going to do you any good. It isn't going to do anything at all, really.”

“What do you suggest, then?” You sigh, knees tucked to your chest, sitting opposite the dashing young knight.

“You should take off whatever clothes are wet and let them dry by the fire.” He begins shrugging off his thick wooly cape to lay on the stone floor beside him, “And sit close to me – we can share body heat.” he adds on quickly, as if he hasn't made his intentions with you clear enough throughout this journey already.

You’re not sure when it started, when his dark eyes began wandering, when his touches started lingering, or even when you started doing the same. But it’s clear to the two of you; the want– the need too transparent to hide. 

There’s more to it though, for you at least. It would be almost too easy to dive into him otherwise. Like a nymph’s bewitching calls into murky waters.

But it could never be that easy. Not with the one they may one day call King. That and his womanizinging reputation.

Expecting anything other than a purely lustful encounter out of this would be foolish to say the least, but perhaps you are a fool. Because the way he looks at you; the way he has been looking at you since– whenever you started noticing; makes you feel as if there might be a chance. 

So you do as he suggests, stripping down to the basics under his unwavering gaze, shuffling over to his side and nuzzling against him.

Questions swirl endlessly within your mind while leaning on Gawain's warm body, his shirt so thin you could almost perfectly imagine what he'd look like without it in your mind's eye.

But then, those eyes, clear as spring water in their intentions, cage you in with their stare and suddenly you feel as if everything must be laid out plainly, “What are your intentions with me, Sir Gawain?”

The look on his face nearly makes you regret it, fearing you may have offended him, but surely he’s aware of his reputation – surely he must understand.

After a beat he exhales with a slight smile as his large hand comes around to your shoulder, “Are they not clear?”

“Clear as they may be, I like things to be absolutely transparent, especially when it comes to men of your… caliber.” He hums in acknowledgement with a smirk, before it slowly slides off his face, replaced with a thoughtful expression so rarely seen it could be possession.

“I understand what you mean, love. But, in truth, I cannot answer you as of yet.” At the inquisitive look you give him he begins trying to explain himself, “It is that… Well, I am to be King somewhat soon, I assume. So it would be reckless for me to act as carelessly as I once did. But then also, I do not yet know what my intentions are – beyond tonight, that is.” Your face warms slightly at his suggestive tone as his hand drifts down your naked back, “All I know, is that you intrigue me. Greatly. If anything, I know– I feel as if… once will not be enough…”

A dark hand of long, slender fingers lifts your chin to meet his fathomless stare, looking deep into your eyes and beyond that – to your vulnerable soul. 

“I feel… the same.” You speak, suddenly breathless as your face nears his subconsciously, giving in to his siren call.

Lips meeting like a spark to a fire, a beginning. His hands wander over you, reverent, gentle, as yours grasp at the front of his tunic, urging him as close as humanly possible – as if close isn't nearly close enough.

The kiss grows fiercer, a push and pull of soft pink muscles attempting to gain control, before being forced to part, open around heaving breaths while eyes grow hazy with lust– no, yearning. Gawain draws back to shed that bothersome tunic before his hands attach themselves to your hips to pull you onto his lap. The ease with which he does it has you grinding down instantly, hands running over sweat-slick caramel skin.

His dark curls bounce as he tosses his head back under your movements, desperate for some control of the primal urges suddenly overloading his brain – to fuck you without mercy, to ruin you for anyone else – but no, that’s not how he wants this to go.

“God above, you're beautiful.” He breathes, hands stilling your hips to let his eyes sweep over your features slowly. The intensity of his gaze makes you squirm and the strength in his hands warms your inside more than the fire ever could. 

Burying your face in his gorgeous, exposed neck you speak so low not even God could hear, “Shut up and take your pants off.”

You feel him smile against your hair, laying a kiss against it before drawing away to do as you ask, somewhat clumsily, but earnestly all the same. Sitting still on his cloak, you watch him avidly, eyes catching on every new inch of dawn-hued skin revealed.

The singularity of the moment strikes you suddenly; back at the castle, amongst duties and expectations, this would never be possible – this calm, this undemanding rhythm. You have no place to be, no one to meet, so you can just be. Together.

“Where did you go?” He whispers, caressing your face with a softness undeserving of a knight’s strength, making your eyes focus back on his features and immediately surge forward to connect your lips to his, “Nowhere important.”

Gentle as a breeze Gawain lays you back, body between your legs and arms beside your shoulders. His prominent nose brushes yours softly, sensually as he parts your legs even further, “Good. I want you here with me. For this will not be a moment you’ll want to ever forget.”

“Oh,” You chuckle teasingly, back arching almost subconsciously against his warm, wide chest while his hips start moving against yours, “You’re sure of that, are you?”

“Your reaction tells me all I need to be sure.” He replies, so cocksure you’re suddenly reminded of who he’d been before the Green Knight had showed up proposing a ridiculous game – knowing he hasn't changed completely is oddly comforting.

“You talk too much… Sir.” You grumble in lieu of remaining silent and further inflating his ego, getting a raised brow at the tacked-on title.

“But you like it, don't you? Don't lie to me, it's unbecoming.” The corners of his lovely lips twitching with the effort not to laugh. Quick as a flash, your legs lock around his waist, pulling his center down to yours and he’s forced to take a breath from between his teeth as his long lashes flutter, “Like I said; you talk too much.”

Gawain bites his tongue – there will be plenty of time to get back at you once you’re mindless and thoroughly spent – he reasons. For now, he just needs to get you there.

One large hand settles at the base of your throat as his luscious lips travel down your neck in flickers of contact that have you arching against his firm grip for more. Soft as a feather, he pulls away your undergarments as needed to kiss at your chest; sweetly at first and then so wet and sloppy you’re left gasping and whimpering, hands grasping at his strong shoulders for purchase.

Grabbing you below the knees, he gently pries your legs open while kissing down your body until you're tingling and trembling all over wishing he'd just get to it.

“Gawain…”

“Hmm? Are you going to beg? Go on.”

You pout petulantly; no you won't beg, he'd enjoy that far too much. But you can, however, tempt him into doing what you want.

“Gawain…” you moan seemingly helplessly, nails brushing his skin making him shiver in delight, “won't you take me? It's clear you want to.”

“It's clear, is it?” He chuckles breathlessly, ceasing completely to just watch you and it makes you want to smack the back of his head in frustration.

Breathing deep, your eyes move over him carefully, appreciating every inch of delicious, exposed skin so many yearn to catch a glimpse of before…

“Gawain,” you raise an amused brow, surely he noticed… “Yes?”

Oh, he's far too good at playing dumb.

You raise yourself until your lips barely brush his, brown hues watching you closely down the length of his nose before your hand boldly presses down on his stiff cock and those eyes glaze over before rolling back in overwhelming delight, “I'd call this pretty obvious.”

Hand squeezing in pulses, you're granted a low groan followed by a deep sigh, “God, you're too much. I cannot– wait.”

Gawain's mouth devours yours, hungry as a wolf, pushing down once more while his lithe fingers graze the inside of your thighs, grinning at what he finds. Cheeks warming at how your mouth chases his as he pulls back, he gives his palm a full lick before wrapping it around his throbbing cock and stroking. The flames illuminate this length of his gorgeous neck like an old painting and your tongue longs to glide over it and follow the path of his sweat so deeply you almost miss him speaking, “Will you beg now?”

You groan most crudely, far over his games and his perfect face and his disarming voice and his damned haughtiness– your hand grasps the curls at the back of his head, delighting in his whimpered response, “Take me now or so help me–,” your not proud of the way your voice wavers but you’re both past that now.

Gawain’s lips connect with yours surprisingly softly, leaning his forehead against yours and lining himself up with your center, “Shh, I’ve got you, just relax.”

A kiss to your hairline is the only warning you get before he starts pushing into you, slow as can be and yet still you cry out at the feeling in between the kisses he places to your lips to offer some comfort.

“There we go, breathe for me. It’ll feel better soon…”

“Gawain…” You moan, clinging onto him as the bite of initial pain melts into pleasure.

Sucking on your neck, his hips sway against yours rhythmically, wavering only when your nails dig into his sides while moaning desperately in his ear, “Gawain please…”

“Now–” his breathing stutters while his hips buck suddenly, pressing a collection of whispered curses from both of your mouths, “Now you beg?”

“Just please fuck me, please.”

The way his cock twitches inside you tells all you need to know on how he feels about your words.

Curls brush the side of your neck as he reaches to bite at your lobe, grunting and moaning into it while speeding up his hips so much your own moans become stuttered and desperate.

As the end nears, Gawain presses his lips to yours, nearly missing in his eagerness, and opens his mouth as if to say something but no words leave him, only a loud moan of your name ringing across the cave just as your body does the same.

Your mind is eerily quiet as you come down, blinking eyes you don't recall closing and feeling the next king breathe against your naked chest while gathering himself. After a moment he raises himself on shaky arms to gaze down at you, hand reaching to brush a stray hair from your cheek and sighing as if suddenly, all is right in the world.

[giggly-squiggily]

hi omg i need to stop lurking and start talking to ppl

i seriously admire you and other creators for taking on tickletober. like damn, thats 31 pieces of work. you should be super proud!!! I really hope you enjoy that mini vacation bc you def deserve it!!! your ability to churn out so much fantastic work while balancing your personal life is extremely inspiring <3 <3 i know youre going far with whatever you put your mind to!!!

im gonna just drop a little wild card of a request-ish thingy. on my mind rn are kisses!!! kisses turning into raspberries!!! feel free to use it or not, or combine it with another prompt, im leaving it up to you <3

hope you have a fantastic october, and an amazing november, AND THEN CHRISTMAS AND NEW YEARS OMG 2022 GO BYE BYE

Skribblz! *Flailing hug jumps* It's so good to hear from you! :D Merry Christmas, New Years, the end of the freaking 2022 nightmare whoop whoop HELLO! :D I've gotcha covered! I was going back and forth on who to use for this prompt, but ultimately fell on Sengen because- yes. Sengen. :D

I hope you like it! :D Here's to a grand 2023!

Everyone has a love language. Gen’s is kisses.

~~~

“Senku-chan. Have you been here all morning?” Gen shuffled into the makeshift lab, tilting his head curiously at the other.

“Hm? Oh yeah- I had an idea on how to progress with the lightbulb. It’s proving to be rather…difficult.” Senku sighed, bending his head as he ran a hand through his hair. His shoulders were set with tension, stress rolling off him in waves. “I’ll take a break soon just…yeah.”

Gen hummed, nodding. Walking over, he reached out and gently hugged his boyfriend’s shoulders, nuzzling his cold cheek against the warmth of the other’s skin.

“Ah! Mentalist, you’re freezing!” Senku yelped, a chuckle escaping his lips as Gen pressed closer. “Stop, you’re too cold!”

“No way- you're warm!” Gen grinned, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss against the back of his neck. “When you're ready for a break, come find me. I’ll be with the kids making wires and such.” With another kiss, Gen let him go, disappearing from the lab with a small wave.

“Heh…maybe I will.” Senku shook his head softly, cheeks warm as he ran a hand along the back of his neck, the skin still tingling from Gen’s lips.

~

Later that day, Senku returned, shaking in his coat as he scurried over to a blanket wrapped Gen.

“Scoot over, I’m freezing.”

Gen smiled in his pillow, doing just that as the scientist crawled in beside him. “Oh! Senku-chan you’re actually freezing!” Gen yelped with a laugh upon feeling Senku’s cold limbs against his- reaching out and taking his frozen fingers within his own. “How long have you been out today?” “Too long. I got caught up in some lab testing.” Senku snuggled closer, pressing his cool cheek into Gen’s warm shoulder. “I’m tired. Wake me up later.”

“But Senku-chan, it’s only the evening.” Gen teased, smiling when he felt the other start to snooze. Leaning in, he pressed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“Sleep well, Senku-chan.”

~~~

“You cut yourself?” Gen’s voice shook him from his thoughts, bringing him back to reality.

“Hm? Oh, I did, didn’t I?” Senku looked down at his hands, eyeing the reddish lines racing along his palms. “I must have caught them on something. I’ll go clean up.”

“Let me do it.” Gen blurted out, startling them both. Face warm, Gen cleared his throat before gesturing to Senku’s hands. “I…I don’t mind doing it. Cleaning up your hands that is.”

Senku blinked, taking in the request. “Yeah…sure. Thank you, mentalist.” He smiled, feeling suddenly shy. It was just hands- did it really matter all that much?

Gen nodded, equally flustered as he went to gather up the things. Before long, he had a small clay basin and a rag, the soap wrapped up in it. Over his arms lay two fresh arm bands to rewrap Senku’s hands. “A-Alright- ehm. Take a seat.” Gen waved him down, kneeling before him and gathering up the first limb. “L-Let me know if it hurts.”

Despite the shake in his voice, Gen’s hands were gentle. Unwrapping the bandages Senku always wore, he went to work- carefully dabbing at the angry red lines. It stung a little, but Senku was grateful for that. Had it not hurt, he was sure he’d be an absolute wreck right now.

“Heh- you're pretty good at this, Mentalist.” He had to break the tension before his heart exploded. “Cut yourself alot with those playing cards?”

“Please, me? The great Mentalist?” The other seemed to relax, an easy smile on his lips. “That’s all magic- I simply make it appear.”

“Sure you do.” Senku snorted, earning a playful glare from the other.

“I’ll remember that…It’s mainly from cooking.” Gen confessed, finishing off the first hand and gathering the other. “I’m not exactly a good chef. I can barely work a microwave back in our time, let alone a kitchen knife.”

Senku tried. He flattened his lips. He breathed through his nose. He closed his eyes with so much tension he was sure he looked like he was in pain.

“One time I put an egg in the microwave.” Gen carried on, starting to smile. “I didn’t know you were supposed to pierce it. When I went to get it, the entire inside looked like a crime scene. It was like I killed Gudetama.”

That did it. Senku let out a wheeze, pressing his freshly cleaned hand to his mouth as he laughed himself silly. “Ohohohoho mahahhan! Mentalist youhohour a worse chehehef than mehehehe!”

“Oh hush! I’m not that terrible!” Gen giggled with him, clearly pleased with himself. “At least I didn’t burn bread seven times in a row!”

That only made Senku laugh harder, the scientist turning away as his shoulders shook with mirth. His ears were red- Gen wanted to kiss them. “Ohooho, ohohooho god! Mentalist, yoohohour too much!” Senku snorted, sitting back up with tears in his eyes, a loving warmth mixed in them that made Gen’s heart skip. “Remihihnd me not to puhuhut you on cooking duty.”

“No worries there. I’m sure the village knows already, hehe.” Gen looked down at Senku’s hand, now clean and dry. It was warm, fitting perfectly in his own. Without much thought, he brought it up to his lips, kissing the now clean wounds.

“G-Gen?” Senku was so surprised by the action he used his real name. His face was aflame once more, eyes wide in surprise. This time, Gen only winked, kissing it again.

“Sometimes we gotta kiss it all better, yeah?” Gen teased, pressing one more kiss against it before grabbing the bandages.

“Y-Yeah…I suppose we do.” Senku murmured, flustered the rest of the evening.

~~~

“Oi, would you cut that out!” Senku squirmed beneath him, giggles climbing up his throat with each kiss and nuzzle Gen gave him. They had a free evening- Chrome had more or less forced Senku out of the lab earlier that day. “You’ve been working yourself to the bone. Go get some rest. I’ll take care of everything.”

At first, Senku was a bit irritated. He was- at least to him- on a breakthrough with his current project.

But then he saw Gen’s smiling face upon returning to their little room and decided Chrome was absolutely correct. He did need a break.

“Why should I? You’re too cute!” Gen teased between kisses, pressing another one behind Senku’s ear, making him blush and yelp out a laugh. “The cutest Scientist I’ve ever met in my life!”

“Yooohohohu huhuhuhuhush, Mehehehentahhahahlist!” Senku twisted in his arms, the acts in vain as they only opened up more tickle spots for Gen to get to. “Staahhahap it, ah! Wahhhahait!” He scrunched up as Gen kissed his neck right along a pulsepoint. “No kihihihihihsing!”

“Yes kissing!” Gen smiled against his skin, daring to lightly bite him and earning a squeak. “Unless you want me to nibble instead?”

“Yohoohohohhu suhuhuhuck- GAH NOHOHOHO!” Gen had moved back up to his ear, lightly biting it, sending both him and Senku falling backwards. “MEHEHEHHENTALIHIHIHIST!”

“Hm?” Gen asked, sitting up with twinkling eyes.

“Staahahhhahp it! Nohoohoho bihhihihting or kihiihihihssing!” Senku huffed, giving him a glare.

“Boo…fine fine. I won’t kiss or bite.” Gen agreed, something in his expression sending shivers down the other’s spine.

“Mentalist…don’t you Dahare!” Gen attacked once more, pressing his face into the crook of his neck. At first, there was nothing. No kisses, no nibbles, not even a nuzzle.

And then-

“PFFFFFFT!”

“GAH AHEHAHHAHAH YOU SUHUHUHUHUCK!” Senku howled in laughter, shoving weakly at Gen’s shoulders as the other blew another raspberry into his skin. “GHEHEHEHEHEHEN!”

“Hehe, okay okay!” Gen laughed, sitting back with a smile, watching Senku gasp for air. His cheeks were bright red, eyes misty with mirth as they tried to glare up at Gen. “Aww, don’t look at me like that. You can’t tell me you weren’t having fun, Senku-chan~”

“Shuuhuhuht up….mehehheentalist.” He groaned, no real malice in his voice as he ran a hand over his face. When he looked back again, Gen was watching him fondly, something soft in his expression. Senku knew exactly what he wanted.

“Heh…come here.” He reached up, wrapping a hand around Gen’s collar loosely before pulling him down, pressing their lips together. Immediately Gen melted into the kiss, reaching out to pull Senku closer.

They stayed like that for a long time, pulling away when they needed to breathe. “Better?” Senku asked when he could, deeply satisfied with the warm blush on Gen’s cheeks, the color running down his neck.

“Much better.” Gen nodded, snuggling close. “Can we do that again?”

“Like you need to even ask.” Senku laughed as Gen kissed him again and again.

Thanks for reading! :D

[bwobgames]

Previous First

"Heavens, close the door!!"

"Oh, Im so sorry. I didn't think it would get inside -"

"I understand, but please, stand somewhere else!"

"Ah- yes! Right away!"

" Well, that's a bit funny. I should go back to my snackie business- nevermind he's coming over here."

"Hey, Oliver..."

"This guy is cold, and his eyes are a bit red

Could he have been...

Smoking the devil's grass??? Funny cigarettes?? María and Juana?? Galactic brownies??

Oh, never mind, he just brushed a tear, it was crying. Whoops.

I hope this doesn't get awkward "

"You... by any chance you dont happen to remember me, do you?"

He seems a bit hopeful

"I... I don't know who this guy is.

Did I forget him from somewhere? College, maybe?

He seems to doubt that I remember, I'll just be honest"

"I'm sorry, I don't remember"

"Well, now I feel like a dick"

"Ah, that's fine! I expected it to be honest. It's not your fault"

"So we've met before?"

"Oh, yes, just once, though, so that's probably why you don't remember.

Im... very good at remembering"

He looks away for a bit, something sad passes through his expression

"But, yeah, we've met. I'm a... a..."

"A private detective! Just like you!"

"Wha-! Really?!"

"Yeah! We investigated the same case a while ago, and we talked once, but it was a very stressful investigation, so you probably dont remember. I have been seeing your name in other cases, and, well, I guess I'm a bit of a fan"

"Could it be the case of the ballet dancer?"

"...Yep, exactly"

"Oh, that was such a tiring case! I still can't believe the culprit was the dad all along!"

"Haha, yeah... crazy"

"Did you also go to the region's academy? Or are you from the capital?"

"I'm ... from the capital"

"Aah, this is so exciting!! Another detective? From the capital? A fan of my investigations??? Oh, I hope I'm not bouncing, but there's just so much happy energy in me!"

"Oh, how could I be this impolite? I haven't done the official detective to detective greeting."

"A warm hug between colleagues! The union said so!"

"This guy seems a bit surprised. Has his union not implemented the greeting hug? Maybe things are different in the capital"

"Well, this guy looked like he needed one."

"Huh, usually I'm a bit uncomfortable with physical touch from strangers, but this is nice, must be the bond between fellow professionals!"

"I want to talk to this guy! I should invite him to somewhere more private"

[forthedancingandthethriving]

Arle: A moment in the sun sounds awful to me.

Arle: I would rather have a moment in the moon, the superior of the sky circles.  

Shantae: .. please don't ever refer to them as 'sky circles' again.

----

A!Andrew: If I'm dead, what are you doing here?

Aite: I forgot to give you an ass-whooping, so I came back.

----

Saiko: There's plenty of fish in the sea. But you know what else there is? Trash. There is a lot of trash in the sea.

Meggy: Not sure if you got cheated on or you're just trying to raise awareness about pollution.

----

SMG4, to SMG3: What’s in the suitcase?

SMG3: Vodka.

SMG4: You brought an entire suitcase full of vodka?

SMG3: No, there are mixers as well. Im not a savage.

----

Root: Tired of everyone telling me I've 'lost too much blood' and 'need to go to the hospital'. It's my severe head injury not yours. Stay out of it.

----

SMG4: Do you believe in true love?

SMG3: I believe you’re a true pain in my ass.

----

Ozymandias: You punched me in the face!

Leto: You bit my tail!

Ozymandias: You punched me in the face!

Leto: YOU BIT MY FUCKING TAIL!

----

Nimbus: Do I look nice?

Ambrosia: You look like you're about to set someone on fire.

Nimbus: Perfect.

----

Cursor: Are you ever going to listen to me?

Lag: Possibly.

Cursor: When?

Lag: When you’re right.

----

Ozymandias: 'Revenge' sounds so mean.

Ozymandias: That's why I prefer to call it 'returning the favour'.

----

SMG10: Are you alright? you didn't sleep at all last night.

Tulip: I got a solid eight minutes.

Tulip: Not consecutively but still it is fine. You're not even that blurry.

----

Vee: So... what’s going on?

Elanore: You want the long version or the short version?

Vee: The short one.

Elanore: Everything sucks.

Vee: Oh. Well, yeah, that’s definitely not an optimal situation.

----

Ozymandias: How dare you mock me in such a manner!

Root: Well, then how would you like me to mock you? I take requests!

----

Nimbus: Ew. What kind of tea is this?

Tulip: I boiled gatorade.

---

Laharl: Clownery. Tomfoolery. Absolute fuckery, I am going to revoke your life privileges.

----

Abyssal: Sometimes, the best way to scare your opponent is just to walk straight at them menacingly. That way, they can't even tell you have a brain the size of a walnut.

----

Root: *flicks out her tongue and tastes the air*

Lil Coding: Well damn, does it taste good?

----

Leto: You have two choices. One: I fling you into a bottomless pit. Two: I curse you.

Queen Melody: Actually, there's a third choice.

Leto: There is?

Melody: Yes. I could beat you to a bloody pulp.

Leto: ...I see. And which of the three will you choose?

Melody: Guess.

----

Tulip, to the Elanore and Tama: Remember to get something to eat, drink lots of water, and get plenty of sleep!

Ash: When was the last time you did any of that?

Tulip: This isn’t about me.

----

Plurality, after arriving at the Mushroom Kingdom: Day one of eating every plant I see.

Plurality: Something bad is happening.

----

SMG3, at Starbucks: Can I get a venti caramel macchiato with seven espresso shots?

Saiko, behind him: Fuck's sake, dude, just do cocaine.

[queenharumiura]

GET TO KNOW NEO

name — Neo and on some other blogs An-chan

pronouns— She/her

preferred comms — I get webhooks alerts to replies and asks, and tumblr very rarely alerts me to ims, but it is available to those who prefer communications via tumblr. Discord is the most reliable.

name of muse — Haru Miura on this blog and many more that i'm too lazy to list out on other blogs.

experience in RP — Around 16 years I think. Crazy as it is, I started out on Quizilla when you used to be able to message people. Then I moved to a proboards site when a friend invited me to join one she created. Was there for a long time. Dabbled a bit in RP'ing with a group on DeviantArt. Did a bit of skype rp from there. Then I moved to tumblr rp. I may have attempted to dabble in discord RP and ye- it's not exactly for me, but I can do it. I hate feeling limited though.

best experiences— Any iteration of: "You know, you made me change my mind on how I see Haru." Truly, the biggest serotonin boost I'd ever need in life. This is my goal in life. What I aspire to do with my writing. Not RP, but I got a Haru hater to like Haru after reading a few of my fics years back. You thought you were going to hate read and give hate? Jokes on you, I OPENED YOUR EYES.

pet peeves/dealbreakers — If you've reposted fanart without credit nor permission and i've talked to you about it and you dismissed my concerns about reposting fanart, i'll instantly block you. It's in my rules for a reason. Tho- I suppose that's just breaking my rules so maybe it doesn't count as a dealbreaker?

Not necessarily a peeve but more of a turn off, but I really don't like it when someone has the repeat energy of 'No one would want to rp with me, I don't see why I bother,' 'Did anyone miss me? No? Okay' etc. It probably sounds petty of me, but I don't like it. It dismisses the efforts of those who have been trying to connect to you, and I come onto tumblr to have fun, so I don't want to come here and feel bogged down. The energy actually disheartens me and brings my own mood down because I end up sympathizing with them too much. For the sake of my own mentality, I end up distancing myself.

muse preference ( fluff, angst, smut ) — I enjoy fluff and angst a lot. Smut... depends... on the muse... and relationships... and how comfortable I am with the mun. I'm big shy in general so it can take time to warm me up to talking about smut in regards to muses. Once I'm used to talking to you about it and i'm comfortable with you, i'm pretty open about it. Truly, I'm big on troll humor though, so crack humor kinda threads really have my heart. If you wanna talk smut with me, you gotta be the one to bring it up because 99.5% of the time, it won't be me bringing it up first.

IF we aren't shipping, then you better hope one day I even reblog a risque meme for you to inquire about it. I'm a lil wary about talking about it to begin with.

plot or memes — Plots, as some of us know that i'm not very keen on memes as my relationship with the inbox is not positive. Still working on it though, one blog at a time. Memes are fun when i'm in the mood for them. This goes for reblogging them or sending in to people.

long or short replies — Both are fine with me, and both are great in their own right. Long ones are nice as they give you a lot to explore but it also takes a while to reply to and it can tire me out. Short threads are short and simple. They're nice, and then you get me being suddenly inspired and whoops- suddenly it's a long thread. (short replies = 3 paragraphs in my mind).

best time to write — I'm finding myself to be more active in the night hours, so the PMs. I do tend to be high inspiration in the AMs, but i'm usually at work or low energy. So that's when I spend the time thinking of what i'll write and then stow those ideas for when I do have the energy.

are you like your muse?: I've been told that I'm very much like Haru, and it's mostly in some habits, i'd say. Haru is a way better human than I am. Fit for life. I, a dehydrated prune is not fit for life. We both share our troll heart, our tendency for conspiracy thoughts, dramatics, speaking in third person and such. Basically, consider me the unhealthy introvert AU for Haru.

Tagged by: @ryuusake

Tagging: I don't tag

[nonagesiimus]

2, 9, 10, and 24 for the book asks!

MY BAD i forgot about this. whoops

is there a book you wish you could delete from the collective memory?

i am so tired of hearing about harry potter in any capacity

do you have any favourite tropes in books?

i would say its pretty rare for me to look for books based on tropes. i like marriage of convenience in fanfiction because i think its funny to add legal consequences to a stupid situation but i cant think of an actual novel ive read with that

do you hate any tropes in books?

this comes up less now that im not reading self published romance novels that much but i used to hateeeee surprise pregnancy because it would come like 3/4 of the way through the book and it would be like, the day after they have sex she wakes up nauseous or some such shit. so stupid

is there a book you really want to read but still haven’t read yet?

GOD yes. i have yellowface by rf kuang, y/n by esther yi, and i have some questions for you by rebecca makkai all rotting on my kindle right now and im dying to read all of them. i just never get to it lol

THANK YOU sorry i forgot about this for days. my bad

[kaihoku]

V25   YES OR NO – November, 1995

Kids are amazing creatures. They can simply go, “Noooo I don’t wanna! I don’t wanna” or “Yeah!” without any worry at all. As adults, we are more inhibited by our tendency to overthink even the simplest of things. Sure, it may be scary but it’s also wonderful to simply be able to honestly refuse and say, “I don’t wanna!”

~*~

People with jobs like ours are in a position where we are frequently watched. But it doesn’t stop there. The results of our appearance will then get quantified into numbers. TV ratings are of course a result of not just a single person so I shouldn’t have to worry too much. Still, there’s a part of me that can’t help but be painfully conscious of my actions.  For example. When there’s a press announcement for an upcoming film or drama, I can’t bring myself to straight up say “I can’t think of anything” even when that is the truth and always feel like I have to do something if only to keep up appearances.

What really made me start to think my actions through carefully was a feature some weekly photo rag oh-so-kindly published about me. Because what hurt wasn’t the fact that people started to talk smack about me, but about the people I know who were unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. If it was just me, it’d simply be like tripping and falling and going “Whoops!” For that, all I have to do is pick myself up.  But when it happens to someone else through no fault of theirs, it takes a lot to put things back to right.

When I confronted the so-called writer who wrote that feature, they just said to me right off the bat, “But getting stuff written about you is part of what being famous is all about!” Knowing that they can’t be reasoned with, I just told them to put themselves in the shoes of people they write about and left it at that.

Thanks to that, I went through a pretty rough time. Not trying to come off sounding poetic or anything like that but it really felt like a knife to the gut. And for a while after that, I was completely out of sorts.

Despite what I have going on personally, at work, the others would be laughing and singing just like normal.  And I know this may come off as cold but if I thought about it, I’m the same as everyone else. Even if another person is having a tough time, there’s really nothing much I can do for them other than to empathize. When I realized that, I had to ask myself if my worries are really all that different.

It was around then that a friend who lived nearby brought his kid over. It was a 2-year old boy. And somehow or other, I ended up being in charge of entertaining the tot. I had Porsche and Corvette toy car models and was a bit anxious about them at first but from the moment the kid saw them and went “Wow~~!” I was a goner. Next thing I knew, we were playing with them and I was going:

“Zoom! Kerr-rash! Ka-boom! “

“Oh noes, the cars are destroyed!”

“Look, the tires came off!”

I realized as I was having fun with the boy that I didn’t feel bothered by anything at all. It’s a wonder, really. Kids have zero qualms in just straight up telling you to your face if they don‘t like something. They’d just nod and say, “Yeah, I like it!” if they do like something and shake their head and say “No, I hate it!” if they don’t. If you do something they think is interesting, they’d just be amazed and go, “Wow!” They’re aren’t afraid of anything. And seeing their clear and honest reactions makes me unafraid, too. It’s pretty amazing.

When they left, I ended up giving the boy everything we played with, up to and including the blue Porsche convertible that was my favorite.  And I told my buddy, “Anytime you folks want to have a date night, just send this lil’ fella my way. I’ll babysit ‘im for you.”

When we play with kids, it’s mainly because we want to enjoy ourselves. My job for sure involves the enjoyment of others. But I believe that it shouldn’t stop there and that it’s important that in doing my job to entertain others, I need to enjoy what I’m doing myself as well. And I need to become more immersed in doing the things I enjoy. Whatever I'm involved in doing, even if I have to exert effort to persist, I want to keep at it until the end. But I also don’t want to ignore the part of me that simply wants to be honest with what I like and what I don’t. So! Imma do just that when it isn’t about work. There’s plenty of stuff I want to try outside of it anyway.

As adults, we always seem to have to keep reminding ourselves that we aren’t kids anymore but now I’m more thinking what’s so wrong with acting like one sometimes? If I can’t be honest with myself, who else can I be honest with? At the end of the day, I’m just as weak as any human and no matter how much I want to deny that truth, no one knows it better than myself. With all the shit that gets written about me and if that isn’t bad enough, I’ve also recently been coming home to find my mailbox broken into and ransacked, it all adds up to become enough to drive a person into deep depression. And I’ve come to learn that if we were to force ourselves to act strong and unaffected in this low state, it really only makes things worse inside.

When we feel weak and dispirited, it’s foolish to even pretend to remain strong.  Times like that, I just want to let it all out and shout, “I freakin’ hate this!”

-kinuta-

[astrologista]

i hate to say it but all bruce does these days is whineeeee. which i feel like is antithetical to how i understand him as a character. like yes, he broods and he does obsess, but he doesn’t really whine unless some of the time if only alfred is there to witness it lol.

like, fr. i haven’t really been keeping up with comics, so maybe i’m off base with some of this, but here’s what it looks like from the outside

bruce’s relationship with dick is under-served or just basically ignored, when they do bring it out, it’s only for very quick angst fuel then right back to business like they don’t know each other at all

bruce accepting jason back into the family was rushed and handled by sub-par writing which didn’t support the emotional gravitas that said reunification should have involved. i’ve seen a lot of fics that did it way better than what they did. it feels shoe-horned. also, why is bruce tacitly rubber-stamping jason as batman-affiliated when he’s still using GUNS? like WHAT. how does that make any sense. do bruce’s emotional boundaries matter at all? does everything have to be jason’s way or the highway? bruce is notoriously stubborn. much as he loves jason, i can’t see him letting that slide IF this were to work. DON’T SKIP OVER THE IMPORTANT CHARACTER WORK. like, set up the foundations and then build on top of that. don’t just jump to the payoff and try to walk things back as you go! it’s lazy and shows where editorial mandate stymied good storytelling. and there are way more issues with it that i have than just that. of course i love to see bruce and jason caring about each other and getting along as much as the next fan but the way they chose to go about it raises SO many questions

tim who?

no tim has been flanderized so fucking bad. actually he’s been transformed more into the fandom-lite version of himself, which i do kind of hate. oh yeah, he’s with bernard now. WHOOP TEE DOO! the fans have been clamoring for that pairing for years i’m sure.

there have been an assortment of good-to-middling damian comics since the 2010s as at least some writers seem vaguely interested in that dynamic with bruce but for every 2 mildly tolerable issues they drop one that’s got fucking jack shit bonkers writing in it and relies on only the most tired of “U LIED TO ME” tropes. nothing will compare to the tomasi 2011 batman and robin run and that was like the single decent output of the new 52 and the best thing dc has released in years. i’m right

among the newer characters they’ve released, it’s sad that they never really seem to... stick? PLEASE INVEST IN SOMEONE. more duke! more harper! more LITERALLY ANYONE!

bring the fun back to comics. where’s the storytelling. decide whether you want to create a new shitty joker and/or riddler iteration, or a new army of jokers and/or riddlers and/or scarecrows. or just create a new poo poo shitty villain of the week who will age like milk. why not have one based on social media. that’s a new one that i’m sure no one will ever see coming.

STOP SOFT REBOOTING EVERY ISSUE. we know, you’re going to start the next new groundbreaking run, take everything back to basics so nobody is confused, bring on the new readers with this cool new jumping on point, simple just batman alfred and the joker with juuuust enough of a new “modern” twist to it to differentiate it from the thousands of other times you did this. great job dc. doing great. when you’re done with that let’s do another mass cataclysm event across 20 books. im sure people will want to collect all those variant covers.

and i love how there are SO many fics that do it so, so, so much better. jesus fuck. and fic writers aren’t even being PAID! we’re not even being PAID!!

so, yeah, i’m kind of done with comics for time being. i’ve been dabbling in anime and games again, getting back to roots, but so far, it’s mainly been independent web content free of advertisers, executives, editorial and other bullshit that’s caught my fancy lately. the artistic freedom is really needed to tell a good story now. the multiverse / soft reboot / re-configure the universe every year bullshit that marvel popularized has infiltrated, like, everything, as well as the netflix model of “let’s cancel immediately after season 1”. there is no buildup. there is no excitement. there is no story. mba’s and boardrooms do not understand “story”. they don’t know what creativity is. they know what numbers, profits, engagement look like, and they are optimizing for that curve. i do not know why they are shocked when that curve sinks lower and lower every year. i just simply do not understand.

im so mad. kevin conroy’s dead and we’ll never get something like b:tas ever again. media has been my life since i was a baby. so i have to find some kind of stories to try to enjoy even if i have to eke it out in the margins of society lol

[kaikaykoa]

comin into Hydropolis and some guard struts over yelling “PILLAR NO. 5 RESPECT YOUR NON-STRAIGHTS”

[longlivefanfic-net]

106 & 146 w nancy wheeler PLEASE dawg i need it so bad fr 🙁 also i know how ppl hc nancy as a dom but in my head that girl is my prissy princess and i need so bad to give her the sex that no man could 🤷🏽also it would be cool if you could fit in something to do w nancy x barb bc that’s a hc that I’ve had for a while :) & bi nancy finally accepting herself 🤭 okay yes im probably gg be spamming reqs like this every so often- much love !! -maxaroni & cheese (wow im so funny hahaha 😐)

Maxaroni! I feel like it's taken me FOREVER to get this finished for you (sorry!!!) but it is DONE. I hope you like it!

Prompts: “I’m going to fuck you until you forget that asshole’s name.” and “Were you just masturbating?” “U-uh…no, I was just…” “Want some help?”

Content: sapphic reader; afab!reader; afab!reader x Nancy Wheeler; college roommates; smut, just like a lot of queer smut; some pining on the readers side because why not; Nancy Wheeler has a praise kink; mommy kink; Jonathan x Nancy

Word count: 7.1k (this was supposed to be short WHOOPS)

Summary: You meet Nancy the day you move into your shared college living space and spend the next few months desperately wishing to be between her legs. But she's got a boyfriend! And a plan for her life! Right?!

Nancy Fuckin' Wheeler

It wasn’t your fault you had fallen for your roommate. She had shown up on move-in day, had simply appeared, like the pixie she resembled, in the too-small room you were expected to share for the next nine months. Her brown hair had been curly, shorter back then, with bangs that brushed the tops of the lashes that framed her large, round eyes. She had smiled at you, striding across the tiny room with her hand already extended, and you had noticed the way her nose wrinkled, right at the tip, when she grinned and you were gone. “I’m Nancy,” she had said, picking up your hand to shake, firmly, like she shook a lot of men’s hands and was tired of being told she had a weak grip. “Nancy Wheeler.” 

You had played it cool for the first few weeks. This was your college roommate–if you didn’t fuck this up, she might end up being your best friend for life. It’s not like you could say, “Hi, Nancy, nice to meet you, I like girls and think you’re hot!” No. No way. And, if you were honest, you couldn’t risk isolating the only person you knew at Emerson. It was lonely in those big buildings, the bustling sounds of city life right outside every window yet feeling so far away. You wanted Nancy to be your friend, and you had thought that meant you had to pretend to be…like her. 

After a few weeks, though, you couldn’t keep it to yourself anymore. Nancy had taken to having full conversations with you while she changed in the mornings, tossing her towel on her bed when she got back from the shared bathroom. She’d hold intense eye contact with you, chattering away the entire time about her classes, and her plans for the day, and whether you wanted to go grocery shopping with her that day, and her boyfriend, always her damn boyfriend. She’d stand on the other side of your narrow bedroom, completely naked, practically daring your eyes to slip from her face, and talk at a hundred miles a minute about Jonathan, this perfect Jonathan, who was always coming to visit that weekend but never actually showed up. 

When you cracked, she didn’t even react. It was during a rare moment of silence, her back still wrapped in her towel and turned to you as she pulled a top out of her neatly-organized closet. Your eyes were fixed on the back of Nancy’s neck; her brown hair was pinned up, and the pale skin of her neck still had beads of water from the shower darkening the fine curls that lay flat against her skin. You watched a drop of water slide down her skin, tangle in that one, C-shaped piece of hair that had fallen out of the clip, and felt your eyes glaze over; you wished, desperately, to be water, to be able to slide over her porcelain body, touching without touching, and find rest in her hair. “You know I like girls, right?” You had blurted out, the words throwing themselves desperately off your tongue to land with a disgusting smack in the middle of the room, as bare and naked as Nancy tended to be. 

She turned her head over her shoulder, barely glancing away from the shirt in her hands. “Oh! No, I didn’t know that.” You stood, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for Nancy to call you names or tell you she was uncomfortable or tell you to request a room change but instead–instead, all you got was a slight blush over her cheeks when she turned back to you. “Did you–did you want me to change in the bathroom?” You shook your head, suddenly numb to the sounds of the cars in the street, the people yelling at each other on the sidewalks, the sounds of your other roommates making breakfast in the kitchen. It all disappeared when Nancy smiled at you–almost shyly, her lips only slightly tilting up at the corners before her eyes ducked down–and removed her towel. 

Afterwards, Nancy had taken it upon herself to make sure you knew you were welcome to bring over whoever you wanted. She eyed girls at the grocery store, the coffee shop, the diner the two of you frequented for late night pancakes, and nudged you, using those wide eyes to motion towards the girls she had picked out for you. She had good taste, you had to give her that–but the girls Nancy picked were always too tall, their hair too light, their bodies too full for who you really wanted. 

One night, late–or early, really–the two of you were nestled into the couch, swathed by blankets, Nancy’s pajama clad legs in your bare lap as you passed a carton of ice cream back and forth. The other roommates had gone out earlier, disappearing in a haze of hairspray and blue eyeshadow with promises to be back for lunch tomorrow. Nancy had declined their invitations, staying home and waiting for Jonathan to call. When he didn’t, you slipped downstairs, running across the street to the bodega for a can of Coke and Nancy’s favorite icecream. 

The night slipped away with the two of you there, sitting by the phone–”just in case,” Nancy said, biting her too-full bottom lip as she avoided your eyes. The conversation started innocently enough: You wanted to comfort her, and had started sharing stories of your own pathetic dating life. She laughed so hard she snorted, actually snorted, her nose wrinkling and her eyes creasing at the corners as she closed them, when you told her about the boyfriend you barely let touch you in high school, the “best friend” you had “practiced” with instead.

“I did that too!” She exclaimed, her voice high and breathless between the sweet peals of her laughter. Her feet pressed into the bare skin of your legs, toes digging against soft skin as you tried to ignore the goosebumps that raced down your arms. She was so warm, so full of light as she gazed at you, and the weight of her body, sprawled so casually over yours, felt so right, felt like home. “I did that too,” she said. “My friend, Barb–she was my first kiss. We said we were ‘practicing’ for when boys decided to date us.” 

You reeled in your shock, loosening the fingers that had immediately tightened around her ankles at the words. Nancy Wheeler–Nancy “Perfect” Wheeler, Nancy “4.0” Wheeler, Nancy fuckin Wheeler–kissed girls? Nancy eyed you from the other end of the couch, the television light flickering over her brows, still high with the glimmer of her laugh. Her cheeks were dark, a blush building there as she held your eyes with her own. “What?” She asked, her voice suddenly low. “You didn’t know I kissed girls?” She cocked her head, slightly, the movement exposing the side of her throat. You felt your heart pounding in your chest, aggressive thumps, as her eyelids lowered slightly. Her lips parted, just barely, and you watched the pink tip of her tongue wet the very edges of the lush bow. 

“Nancy,” you replied, your shaking voice betraying you, your body betraying you as it warmed under her gaze. “That’s…kinda gay.” Nancy rolled her doe eyes, smirking slightly. “Are you–Nancy, do you like girls?” She shrugged her pajama-clad shoulders, angling her head towards the TV. “Yeah,” she said, flicking a heavy-lidded glance back at you. “And guys. It’s not a big deal.” She said it so nonchalant, said it like she hadn’t just rocked your world and flipped it on its axis, like she hadn’t made your heart jump into your throat. Nancy liked girls. Nancy could like you. Hell, it almost seemed like she was flirting with you. Except–

Except for Jonathan. Fucking Jonathan, who happened to call at that exact moment, like your thought of his name summoned him from California, the earsplitting ring of the telephone making both you and Nancy jump. She grabbed, desperately, at the receiver, picking up the heavy plastic and cradling it between her strong chin and shoulder. “Hello?” She whispered, breathy with her excitement. “Yeah. No, it’s fine, it’s– I can talk.” She looked over her shoulder at you and, if you didn’t know better, you’d have thought she looked guilty. 

You smiled, bitterly aware that it didn’t meet your eyes, and slid her feet off your lap. Standing up, you stretched–the two of you had been on that couch, skin touching skin, for hours now, and your joints felt stiff. Nancy watched, either unaware or uncaring that you could see her eyes fixate on the way your oversized t-shirt lifted with your arms, the hem dancing over the edges of your underwear. Heat pulsed through your core, a sudden, desperate throbbing, as her eyes met yours from where she sat on the couch. Your breath caught, slightly, in your chest, and you turned, heading to the bathroom for a cold shower–and, if that didn’t work, a few minutes alone with your hand and the image of Nancy, eyes wide and hungry, jaw loose like it was waiting for you to guide it. 

After your shower–and, yes, a few minutes of picturing Nancy’s face, Nancy’s body, Nancy’s neck and skin and hair and lips–you headed back to your shared bedroom. Nancy was no longer in the living room, not lazed over the arm of the couch while she giggled with Jonathan on the phone. You opened the door to your bedroom quietly, hoping she’d already be asleep. She was in her bed, a small bundle of limbs and dark hair tucked in amidst the lightly colored bedding of her twin-sized mattress. 

She wasn’t asleep. Maybe you had turned the door handle too quietly. Maybe she heard you and just didn’t care. Either way, when you closed the door with a soft snick, Nancy kept her eyes closed, continued to thrust her hips lightly against, you assumed, the hand hidden under her bedspread. You felt your heart stutter in your chest, your knees suddenly weak; she was beautiful, gorgeous, somewhere between frustrated and focused as she worked against her own skin. “Nance,” you whispered, and her eyes shot open, wide and all-too-innocent as she fluttered her lashes at you across the room. “Were you just masturbating?” 

“Um,” she replied, cheeks dusting lightly with a pink blush that matched her bedspread, “U-uh…no, I was just…” Nancy’s eyes flitted nervously around the room, her lips pressing together into a hard, embarrassed line, and you watched her throat bob as she swallowed. It was the swallow that did it, of all things. Your newfound best friend, your roommate, laying in bed with her dark curls spread under her angelic face had already driven you to the edge, but watching her throat move as she swallowed, wishing you could taste that swallow, finally hurled you over the precipice you had been dancing on since the first time you had lain eyes on her. 

“Want some help?” The words burst from between your lips, your body going cold and then hot as the blush raced under your skin. But the words were out, were hanging in the air between the two of you, and all you could do now was wait, your veins full of ice. Nancy’s eyes widened, her jaw relaxing and going slack so that her lips parted. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the full, rosebud pink curves, wishing to be in between them; that’s why you couldn’t miss it when they shifted, just slightly, letting Nancy’s whispered “yes” glide under your skin. 

The ice in your veins melted, the sudden liquid rushing in your ears, as the heat you had just dulled sparked back to life in your stomach. You pushed down the excitement, the fear that swirled through your body; it was important, so, so important that you handle this right. You walked towards her tiny bed slowly, giving her plenty of time to say “I was kidding!” or “Nevermind,” as you shifted her blankets aside, sliding your half-clothed body into the bed next to her. Nancy shifted her face, just slightly, so that her oversized eyes were trained on your face when she blinked, a rush of blood rising to the surface of her cheeks. 

You looked down at Nancy’s slender body as you propped yourself up on one arm, pressing yourself closer to her under the warmth of the blankets. Jonathan–the mysterious Jonathan, who never came to visit when he said he would, who only existed to you as the framed photograph on Nancy’s desk–flashed in your mind, and you wondered if he was the reason Nancy was rutting her hips against her own hand; if he had spent those minutes you were in the shower whispering in her ear across the phone lines, making her desperate for him, for the feeling of his body pressed against hers. It doesn’t matter, you thought to yourself. I’m the one in bed with her. The thought made you blush, and your eyes skittered away from Nancy’s, floating down the outline of her body under the blankets she was covered by. 

“You don’t have to–” Nancy suddenly whispered, watching the heat building along your neck and cheeks, and you cut her off, jumping on the words and stubbing the burning embers of her rejection out before it could flame. “I want to,” you whispered back, the words shocking you as they pressed into the room, making their presence felt in your core with a brush of heat. Nancy just stared, doe eyes blinking rapidly as she pressed her lips together, swallowing again and–fuck, what you would have given to taste the inside of her mouth. She looked, pointedly, at her body, hidden under the bedspread, before flashing her eyes back to you. 

You pulled the corner of your bottom lip between your teeth, worrying it slightly, before slipping your free hand over her body, her flat stomach and soft thighs, until it was over the hand she still had wedged between her legs. “Move your hand, Nancy,” you commanded, watching the blankets so you didn’t have to look at her. When she pulled her hand away from her sex, you could have sworn that, for just a moment, she let her fingers brush against your palm. 

Slowly, your fingers cupped around Nancy’s folds, luxuriating in the heat emanating from her skin. When you slipped your middle finger in between her lips, stroking once, you kept your face carefully turned away from hers, refusing to watch the shuddering gasp fall from her lips. Your finger was poised at her entrance, ready to push inside of her–or pull back–with the slightest hint of what she wanted. “Nance,” you said, your voice low and quiet. “This is going to feel better if I get you wet first.” You let the silence build between the two of you, stretching on for what felt like an agonizing length of time. “Can I kiss you?”

“O–okay.” The voice under you was timid, shy, unlike the Nancy you had come to know in the last few months. You angled your head towards hers, desperately seeking out her face in the dim light of your shared bedroom. Nancy was watching you, eyes eager as she licked her lower lip. The warm lap of fire in your core suddenly tightened, blazing as you leaned down, ducking your head to her strong jaw. Your lips pressed against the coolness of her skin, the hard line of her angular jaw, and you felt her chest hitch under you, her body shake with the desire that buried itself in her lungs at the touch of your mouth on her body.

You pulled back, peering at Nancy’s face. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted as she lay under you, glowing in the soft beams of moonlight that slanted in through the window, radiant; she was a Renaissance painting against her pillow, a woman blissful in the throes of passion, seduced by an immortal god. Your body, your soul cried out for you to touch her, touch her, and you leaned down, pressing your lips against the long line of her throat, the column of smooth skin, before running your tongue over it. The tiniest, softest moan escaped Nancy’s lips as your tongue warmed her skin and–

You felt her body under your hand, still cupping her sex, flutter. Her walls tightened, almost imperceptibly, as your finger waited for her body to grant you entrance. When you felt the rush of slick dripping in between her folds, sliding over your hand, you slipped yourself inside of her. Nancy whimpered, eyes still closed under you as you curled your finger slightly, pressing against the warm, tight wall of her body. “Shh,” you murmured, and your free arm pressed itself into her pillow, your hand pushing her curls out of her face so you could watch her eyes tighten, her brow crease. She moaned again, barely more than a sigh, and you felt her hips tilt up, pushing your finger deeper inside of her. You couldn’t stop the grin that slipped over your lips–and she couldn’t see it, anyways, her eyes shut as her head rolled back on her pillow. 

“More,” Nancy moaned, and you ignored the spreading heat in between your legs as you bullied a second finger into her. She was tight, much tighter than you ever would have dreamed, and you could feel her clenching around the forced spread of your hand inside of her. You rotated your wrist, pulling your fingers back before slipping them in again and again, never fully pulling them out as she gasped with each thrust. “More, more,” Nancy’s voice came to you like a prayer falling from her lips, begging, pleading for you to touch her; you dipped your head, lips latching on to her exposed collarbone as she mewled. 

Nancy ground her hips against your hand, her desire coating your palm and other fingers now, desperate for more friction as you filled and stretched her. “What is it, babygirl?” You heard yourself whispering against Nancy’s throat, the words slipping out without your permission. “What do you need from mommy?” Nancy’s hips stuttered against your hand, a physical reflection of her shock at the growl in your words, the low, coaxing tone that wallowed in between your bodies. 

“Need–I want–” Nancy stuttered, and you dared to glance up at her from where you suckled on her throat.

 “Use your words.”

 “I want you to touch my clit.” 

“Good girl,” you whispered, and Nancy whimpered, a high-pitched sound that scratched itself out a home in your heart as it fell from her lips. You let your thumb push in between her folds, seeking out the swollen bud above her opening. Pushing into it, you reveled in the sound of Nancy’s breathing, harsh pants now as her hips lifted again and again. “You’re doing so good, sweet girl,” you breathed into her skin, fingers curling inside of her as your thumb rubbed harsh, fierce circles. “Keep going. Keep going until you cum for me, baby.” 

Nancy whined at your words, and you felt her suddenly clench around you, drawing your fingers even deeper into her body. You moved your thumb faster, whispering “that’s my girl, that’s my girl, go ahead, baby,” as her panting turned into soft cries, little moans that elevated in pitch as her body pulled, tightening and releasing in short spasms. When she stopped, her hips slowing, her muscles loosening around you suddenly, you kept your fingers resting in her warmth. Pulling your face back from her neck, you carefully avoided Nancy’s eyes, avoided seeking out the sweat and blush on her face that was meant to be your reward, and carefully pulled your hand from her body, gentle as her walls twitched. 

Your hand came up from under the blankets, dripping and coated in the clear expression of Nancy’s satisfaction, of what you had to assume was her enjoyment of your touch. You chanced a glance back at her, still lying on the pillows. Nancy’s eyes were on your hands, the corners of her eyes tight as her mouth pressed into a hard line; you felt the burn of rejection simmer in your gut, a byproduct of the guilt and shame you read in her face. “I’m just–I’m going to go to the bathroom,” you said, flipping Nancy’s blanket back and standing up suddenly, desperately hoping she couldn’t see the discoloration where your underwear was soaked through, couldn’t see the glimmer of slick dripping down your own thighs. 

******************************************************************************

The two of you never spoke about it. Never, not once, over the next few months did you bring it up–and there were chances to. When you brought a girl home from a Halloween party, Nancy didn’t ask if you got her off the same way you did her; when she left to go back to Hawkins for Thanksgiving, you didn’t ask if her own hand would satisfy her the way yours had; and when either of you entered your room late at night, you both always knocked first, giving the other time to whip their hand out from their underwear and feign sleep. 

It almost felt like you had made it up, like it was some too-vivid dream. Like you had dreamt what Nancy’s throat tasted like, like you had dreamt how her hair smelled like jasmine, like you had dreamt that her fingers had tightened in the fabric of your shirt as she came, like you had dreamt of her face cradled so gently in your palm while you pushed her hair out of her face. 

Or worse–like you had dreamt up the little glances she shot you in the kitchen as you poured coffee, her eyes darting away nervously as soon as they met yours; had dreamt the way her eyes pulled together with hurt when you had walked the girl from the Halloween party out of your apartment, ducking slightly to avoid the kiss the girl had tried to press to your mouth at the front door, aware of Nancy’s gaze on the back of your head; had dreamt the blush that darkened her cheeks as she took calls from Jonathan in your living room, the phone ringing for her less and less often. 

The one thing that you knew you weren’t creating in your own head was the silence. Because Nancy still changed in your shared room, exposing her full body–the soft, pale thighs your hand had parted, the pert, firm breasts you had felt against your torso when you leaned into her–to you as she pulled her clothes, but now she did it without speaking. 

You would have let the silence go on forever, would have lived in quiet for the rest of the year and moved out in the spring and spent the rest of your life pushing thoughts of Nancy Wheeler, Nancy Fuckin’ Wheeler, out of your head for the rest of your life. Would have never spoken to her again, if that’s what she wanted, until December. 

She had packed her bags, chattering at top speed to all of the roommates: Jonathan had called, had made plans for the two of them, had booked her a flight–she was going to California for Christmas. She’d spend the holidays wrapped around the boy you resented, snuggled warm under his blankets, his hand between her thighs instead of yours, exchanging presents and kisses, while you sat alone in the drafty apartment you all shared. The other roommates were going out of town, too, with promises to bring back their family’s cookies and cakes for you since you were the only one not planning on leaving for the month of break. 

When Nancy left, she had flung an arm around the neck of each girl; had hugged them quickly, but fiercely, like she wanted them to know that she loved them but not enough to stay. When she walked up to you, her arms were slower–she wrapped both of the thin, long limbs around your waist instead of your neck, pulling you in tightly. Her lips ghosted over your racing pulse in your throat, a gentle brush that could have been mistaken for an accident, before she pulled back. “Bye!” She chirped, her voice as bright as her welling eyes. “See you in a month!” 

The next few weeks were a haze. A disorienting blur of the other roommates leaving, of rides to the airport and lonely trips to the grocery store. Of waking up in an empty bedroom, no sounds of soft sighs and sleepy, content breaths from the other side of the room. You settled into a routine: Wake up, make breakfast, bundle up in your warmest coat and a thick scarf to go for a walk, come home, flick through TV while you snacked, make dinner, go to bed. It was boring, yes, but the routine settled you, and when thoughts of Nancy, images of her wide eyes and wider grin, her sharp brows and strong jaw, her long fingers and dark curls, danced across your retinas, you could shake your head and refocus on the task at hand. There was no space for the lingering hurt in your heart with your routine, no space to bemoan the state of your life and loneliness as you sat on the couch on Christmas Eve. 

The routine was familiar at this point, comforting in the way it surrounded you with people and distractions while you were entirely alone. The routine is why it was so alarming when the front door swung open, accompanied by the loud thumps of a heavy suitcase hitting the floor. The routine was the reason you looked up so slowly, why it took your brain so long to process the small woman in your doorway wearing a skirt and t-shirt, shivering aggressively as tears slid down her face. “N–Nancy?” You asked, feeling your eyebrows draw together in confusion. She opened her mouth, the only thing coming out of it a wail. 

“Nancy,” you said, standing up suddenly. You rushed to the door, wrapping your arms around her slender, icy frame. “Nancy, what’s wrong? What–Why are you here? Where is your fucking jacket?” You asked, your head turning quickly to look at the frozen flurries frolicking past your window, snowflakes glinting in the light of the streetlamps. A watery laugh burst from the chest wrapped under your arms. 

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Nancy asked, tilting her head slightly to peer up at you from watery lashes. “I come home,” she sniffed, wiping her nose as you relinquished your grip on her, “crying,” she said, emphasizing the word, “and you’re worried about me not having a coat?” She laughed again, the sound broken and making your heart ache. 

“It’s freezing outside, Nance. You–come on, you need to get wrapped up. Come sit on the couch.” You pushed her farther into the apartment, following behind to swaddle her in the blankets, still warm from your own body heat, that were piled on the couch. “What are you doing here? You were supposed to be in California with Jonathan until January.” 

She sniffed, running a finger under her eyes. “We broke up,” she said, her voice catching on the words. The story burbled out of her in stops and starts, tears and shuddering gasps interrupting her words as she recounted the morning’s conversation, how Jonathan had sat her down at the breakfast table, how he had explained that he wasn’t sure he could give her the life she wanted, she deserved, he said, and how, eventually, it had come down to the simplest words possible: We just don’t love each other anymore.” 

Her hands reached out, sliding over the blankets to wind her fingers in between the spaces of yours. “He was right,” Nancy said, her voice more even now as the tears stopped. “He was right, we just–we don’t love each other anymore. I don’t think we have for a while. But I just–I wasn’t expecting it, you know? I thought–” she shook her head, a trickle of laughter flowing from her lips. “I thought I would just get through the next four years, and then I would marry Jonathan, and we’d have a couple of kids, and we would be normal. I wanted to be normal.” Her eyes met yours, sending a shiver down your spine before she shifted her gaze to your interlocked fingers. “I don’t think I can be normal, though. I think–I think I want something else for myself now.” Nancy’s fingers tightened, a shot of adrenaline coursing through your veins at the touch. 

When she leaned forward, pressing her wide lips to yours, it caught you off guard. You jolted backwards, breaking the first real kiss the two of you had ever had. “Nance,” you whispered. “I’m– I don’t think we should–” 

“Please.” 

“You just broke up–”

“I don’t care. I don’t care about him like that anymore. I haven’t since–since before we–please, I just want you to touch me.” 

You bit back the words that had been pushing for space on your tongue, the denials and the rebuffs that were rational and responsible. “Say that again.”

“I want you to touch me. Please.” The last word was a whimper, soft and quiet like she was ashamed of it, but it melted whatever lingering resolve was buried in your chest. You moved quickly, bringing your mouth to Nancy’s again, pressing lips together as you tilted your head, pressing hers back so that your tongue was able to slip easily into the space between her lips. She gasped, quietly, against your mouth, and you felt your heart rattle in your chest, chaotic and longing to be closer to her. 

“I’m going to fuck you,” you whispered, moving your mouth to press harsh, hot kisses into her chin, her jawline, her neck, her throat, “until you forget that asshole’s name. Understood?” The whimper that fell from Nancy’s lips was your only verbal response, but she nodded her head vigorously, her brown curls shifting out of place with the motion; the way her fingers tightened around your arms, her nails digging into your skin as her head tilted back, a moan falling from her mouth, confirmed it for you as well. 

Your fingers flew to her waistline and were met by her hands; you pulled her skirt down as she pushed her shirt up (a trickle of annoyance in the back of your mind that Jonathan, fucking Jonathan who’s been an invisible presence between the two of you for so long, let her come back here in the dead of winter wearing a t-shirt and a skirt). Your fingers find bare skin, exposed paleness dappled with large freckles here and there. It’s the first time you’ve seen her like this–the last time you touched her, she was covered the entire time, keeping herself hidden away from your prying eyes like a sacred relic, like she knew that you were greedy and would take as much of her as you could and would never, never give up what you held in your hand at that moment. 

You wrapped your fingers around her waist, pressing your hands into the lines of muscle and sinew that separated you from her bones. Overcome, you dipped your head, pressing your nose flat into the soft padding above her belly button. The weight of your face pushed Nancy back onto the arm of the couch, her legs sprawling open as you fit your body between them so you could continue to touch the parts of her that reclined backwards. You dragged your nose up, letting your skin burn a path across her stomach as your nose and chin pushed up, up, until your chin was resting on the very bottom line of her bra. You settled your face there, Nancy’s fingers winding through your hair as she gripped your scalp, and blinked at her, a slow smile turning your lips as you took in her disheveled hair, pink cheeks, panting breaths. “Hi,” you whispered. 

“Hi yourself,” she whispered back, a gentle smile settling over her face. She loosened her grip on your hair, and the long fingers brushed against your forehead. Nancy tilted her head, slightly, watching her own hands trace patterns over your skin. When her eyes drifted back to yours, you couldn’t help but see the warmness in them, the distant echo of a centuries old fireside that represented home. “Are you done? Or do I get more?” She asked, and you had to stop yourself from practically purring at the simplicity of her request, of the implication that she was just waiting this whole time for you to decide to give her more. 

“Depends,” you said, smirking. “What’s your ex’s name?” 

“Jonathan,” Nancy replied immediately, eyebrows pulling together. 

“Must need more then,” you said, and turned your head abruptly to nip at the swell of the breast that threatened to spill out of the cup of her bra. Nancy’s sharp gasp was finished with a laugh, and your hands slipped under her torso to unclasp her bra, pulling the straps down her arms as you moved the material away from her skin. Her breasts fell free of the enclosure, the pink rosebuds already hard and drawn in the coolness of the air. You bite, playfully, at the curving line of her chest, soothing the small mark from your teeth with your tongue as Nancy whimpers. “Shh,” you whisper, “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” 

Your mouth moves, slowly and sloppily, to the hardened perk of her nipple, and you’re quick to take it in between your lips, sliding your tongue over it, around it, all but rolling it in your mouth. Nancy is gasping, little “yes”s bursting from her lips as your hands wander down from her sides, skimming over her narrow hips to clench the tops of her thighs that your body presses between. All she’s wearing underneath you is a pair of the satin panties you’ve spent the last semester watching her shimmy over her hips, wishing desperately to touch. 

You lean back, letting your eyes wander over the expanse of her body as Nancy catches her breath. Her chest heaves under your eyes, her pulse throbbing in the column of her throat. “God,” you hear yourself whisper, voice rasping. “You are so fucking pretty for me, baby girl.” Nancy’s eyes widen, her lower lip wobbling as she takes in your words. Her arm extends, grabbing your wrist tightly as she pulls your fingers to her skin. 

Nancy places the palm of your hand against her throat, your fingers instinctually wrapping around the slender column. You feel your eyes widen slightly, shocked by the unspoken request; her brows arc, right at the narrow ends, and you feel your face press into a grin. “Words,” you whisper, and Nancy’s eyes slip closed, a tiny smile playing at the curve of her full, swollen mouth. 

“Please.”

“Please what?” 

“Please choke me. Please. I need you to–” 

Her words end abruptly, a gentle sigh replacing her voice as your fingers tighten, pressing into the harsh pulse on the sides of her throat. Your other hand slips between her legs, finding the skin of her inner thighs slick with longing. “Oh, you’re such a good girl,” you whisper, and Nancy’s moan makes your stomach tighten, your core throb. Your fingers slide the soft fabric of her underwear to the side, pushing in between the folds to seek out her center. 

“Wait,” Nancy huffs, and you loosen your fingers around her throat, eyes flashing to her face with concern. You look over her, eyes darting for signs of distress, for too-red cheeks or teary eyes. “I just–you already–please, just let me go down on you.” You lean back, feeling your eyebrows climb over your face as your lips part slightly. “Please. Mommy.” The words are stilted, falling from her mouth like bricks, but the light blush snaking over her cheeks tells you that Nancy knows, she knows what she wants, and she wants you. 

You nod, the movement subtle. “Okay, baby girl. Whatever you want.” She preens under your words, her eyelashes fluttering as a soft smile highlights the apples in her cheeks. Nancy’s fingers are gentle, slow where yours were quick, as they grab the hem of your night shirt; she pulls it over your head carefully, eyes on yours until your skin is exposed. The cool air of the apartment hits you, causing goosebumps to rise on your soft form.

“You’re so…” Nancy’s voice trails off, quiet as her doe eyes roam over your skin. “Beautiful,” she says, the word hanging in the air between the two of you, glimmering with traces of months worth of pent-up longing. “You’re so beautiful.” Her eyes meet yours, a spark of electricity bouncing from her to tighten your heart in your chest. Nancy leaned forward, pressing her mouth to yours as you fell back against the worn couch. Her delicate hands guide you to lie down on your back, the top of your head pressing into the bottom of the arm of the couch. “Beautiful,” she whispers, pressing her mouth into your throat; “Beautiful,” she says again, her lips cloying at your collarbone; “Beautiful,” hushed, like a prayer, at the curve of your breast; “Beautiful,” louder now, spoken into the softness of your stomach; “Beautiful,” a moan, this time, as you slip your underwear down your legs, exposing your heat to her mouth. 

Nancy is quick now, her lips pressing once to the skin above your already-damp folds. You feel her fingers spread you, her body tightening with anticipation in between your clenched thighs. A finger pushes against your opening, the muscles fluttering at the slight pressure. “Is this okay?” Nancy asks, and she pulls her eyes away from your body to gaze up at you. You nod, aware that any words from your lips would come out cracked, broken, as pathetic as you’ve felt dreaming of this moment for the last few months. 

Nancy’s finger slides into your core, and a soft sigh falls from your lips. She’s gentle, caring with her hand already up to the palm inside of you. The finger curls, just slightly, as she pulls it back, and your eyelids flicker at the pressure against your walls. She pushes a second finger in, stretching you just slightly as she works her hand against you, forcing a small whine from your lips. “You’re okay?” She says, the end of the sentence rising like a question as her eyes meet yours again. You nod, your eyes already feeling hazy as you watch her watch you. “Can I…use my mouth?” The question is hesitant, tentative, shy. 

“Don’t ask so many questions, Wheeler,” you mutter, cheeks burning as your voice shakes. A slow smile spreads over her face, and Nancy pulls her fingers from your warmth and dips her face to the space between your thighs. You can feel her tongue, flat and wide, licking a stripe between your lips; when it passes your gaping hole, you whimper and lift your hips, trying to grind into her face. Her tongue whisks over your clit, barely more than a fleeting brush, but it makes you gasp, the sound echoing through the empty apartment. 

“Oh,” Nancy sighs, and her eyes are narrowed, quizzical as she looks at you again. “You want both? Want to be filled and licked?” You nod again, the desire to mock her endless questions dying on your tongue as her fingers slide back in, quickly now that she’s in familiar territory. Your head rolls back on the couch under you, and your eyelids slide closed. When her tongue returns to the swollen burst of nerves, you whimper–the sound is long, loud, ludacris when coupled with the sound of her fingers thrusting into your wetness. “Oh,” Nancy moans–really, truly, moans, into your dripping cunt, and the vibrations send shockwaves through your skin. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, and your hands are suddenly wound in her hair, giving you something to hold on to as you rut your hips against her face. Her nose, her tiny, perfect nose, is pressing against your skin, her tongue lapping fast, wide strokes at your clit, and her fingers are starting to relax, to spread from each other and stretch where you’re tightest. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimper, and Nancy’s fingers are faster, harder, while she lets you use her face for friction. “Oh, Nance–Nancy–Don’t–Please don’t–stop–” The words are coming out of your mouth in between hitched breaths, breaking in little gasps and cracks as you force them out, desperate to tell her that if she stops–if her tongue slows, if her fingers disappear, if any of it goes–you’re pretty sure you’ll die on the spot. 

“Nance,” you mewl, the word falling from your full lips like a prayer, “Nance, I’m gonna–don’t stop, I’m gonna c–” It’s the last word you get out before your back arches, body tightening around her fingers, a sharpness in your spine curving in on itself until it’s unleashed, the arrow of your desire loosed from the bow of Nancy’s lips. The sound that drips from your mouth is high pitched, cradled on each end by gasps, and you swear you can feel Nancy grinning into your body as she continues, relentlessly fucking you through your freefall. 

When you finish, she sits up and pulls her hand from you. You watch as Nancy sits back on her knees, slips her fingers into her mouth. Any thought you would have had at that moment–what does this mean, are we together now, are we going to talk about this, holy shit that was the best orgasm of my fucking life–dissapear from your head as you watch Nancy’s eyes close, an expression of bliss on her features as her mouth cleans you from her hand. She removes her fingers with a subtle pop, and you try to bring your gaze from her lips back to her eyes unsuccessfully. Your eyes are still on her lips, which is why you can’t miss when she says it. 

“Jonathan.” 

“What?” You ask, eyebrows jumping together in confusion and shock. 

“Jonathan,” Nancy repeats, shrugging her shoulders slightly. “I still remember his name.” 

You take a moment, letting your earlier conversation roll through your mind. A devilish smile turns up the corners of Nancy’s mouth as she watches you put the pieces together. “Right,” you say, sitting up with a grin on your own face, “Guess I’ll have to do something about that.”

[beann-e]

Haikyu Characters Reacting To Their S/O Screaming Back At Them

Aoba Johsai

Read Part Two Here

kyotani Kentaro

-everyone knows kyotani for his anger and how he doesn’t suck up to people so when they found out he was dating someone they had to assume this someone had the ability to put him in his place and right now that’s just what they needed

“ mad dog-chan you can’t do this not right now“ oikawas voice rang through in annoyance

“ yeah we need you to go in “ iwazumis voice sounded tired as if he was exhausted by trying to convince the boy for the past 5 minutes during their halftime (long timeout)

kyotani grunted as he turned from both of his teammates looking to the wall as he sat on the bench

“ coach seriously — we need him and he’s just on the bench doing nothing “

“ he said he’s tired of you guys only calling him in for 5 minutes and then sitting him back out like an animal— that you use to show off and then send outside when company’s gone “

“ well he’s our secret weapon “ oikawa screamed “ that’s literally what you do “

kyotani grumbled as he rolled his eyes at oikawa who huffed as he moved to turn to the bleachers “ oh forget this he’s not even listening to iwa-chan “

“ well you know what to do flatty-kawa “

“ duh you see i’m doing it iwa-chan”

oikawas hand came up in a wave as he moved to the referee whispering to them as they spoke on the speaker their voices crisp sending a chill through kyotani’s spine

“ we need a y/n l/n to come down to Aoba Johsais Bench — A y/n L/n to come down to Aoba Johsais bench “

you stood up smiling widely as you jumped your way through the crowd voice heaven sent as you screamed “ that’s me “

moving through people talking sweetly “ oops — sorry — sorry have to go take care of a loose hothead—whoops—you should really watch where you place that drink “

you hopped down the stairs waving at the team and the referee as you came to a stop in front of kyotani who was even more mad than he was initially

“ babe whats up why are they calling me down here again “ you sighed “ it’s only happened five other times and I thought we got past it “

“ they say that like it’s nothing “ kindaichis voice came out small as he rubbed the back of his head

“ kyotani “ you called confused usually he would answer you by now and comply and go play for a little while just to make you happy so you could go sit down on the bench to watch his game closely

“ uh somethings wrong iwa-chan “

“ yeah somethings off he’s not responding to her this time “

“ kyo what— “

“ if anything he looks like he’s gonna snap “

oikawa laughed at his comment “ yeah right y/n ‘ s too nice he’d feel horrible if he snapped at ‘em —they’d probably cry he wouldn’t do it “

oikawas face dropped as he heard the loud voice ring out inside the gym “ GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME“

you shuddered at his voice “ your even more fucking annoying than that dumbass over there “

your mouth dropped “ all you do is come down here and bother me everytime and I only go in for you — i’m not doing it this time i’m gonna stand my ground”

he screamed “ they use me for those 5 minutes and then toss me out i’m not doing it — like I said i’m sitting right here on this bench and standing my fucking ground “

your face went up in shock as you felt your body flinch at his voice kyotani and the rest of his team immediately feeling bad at what the whole gym just witnessed everyone listening closely feeling sorry for you

Oikawa moved to glare at kyotani as he walked over to wrap his arms around you “ aw y/n-chan it’s ok to cr— “

“ YOU SCREAM AT ME ONE MORE TIME LIKE THAT AND IM GONNA KNOCK YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF WITH THE BAT MY DAD WACKS INTRUDERS AT HIS STORE WITH “ your screams came out louder than his as you stared down at the boy in front of you

“ I don’t care if you go out there and wipe the floor down with fucking towels or scrape it clean with a toothbrush but your going out on that court kentaro“

your voice was stern “ you better be glad they even give you 2 seconds on that court you love so much with your shitty attitude —if it was me i’d make you a bench rider the whole season while you watch shittykawa smirk at you everytime he goes up for a set that you won’t get “ your screams catching the whole gym off gaurd

“ so your gonna go out there and stand your fucking ground on that court “ you mocked him hand pointing from him to the court

Kyotani’s body shaking at your tone “ kentaro “ you spoke his name like a curse as he jolted and race to stand in his position on the court head never turning back to look at you again as you continued

“ You will score everytime you go up for that ball — everytime you hit something or come in contact with it— I want a point on that board do you hear me“

“ yes “

“ kentaro “

“ yes ma’am “

you moved to fix your clothes as you stared at everyone in the crowd “ everytime my boyfriends feet leave that ground you better clap your asses off do you hear me “

everyone shook their heads in a yes motion afraid of you and how such a big yell could come from such a small person

You smiled at the team before you took your seat on the bench near the coach who read off all his plans for kyotani that hed never listened to

“ oh trust me we’ll do that plan “ you said as you shook your head ignoring all the whispers from the males around you

“ do they know the game doesn’t start back up again until 5 minutes from now “ mattsukawas voice came out in concern

“ I —uh I don’t think they care “

“ oikawa what’s wrong with you “ iwazumi turned to see oikawas face made up in a frown as he sulked

“ pretty y/n-chan called me your stupid nickname “

oikawa

-oikawa never liked losing especially when it was to someone younger than him someone he didn’t like so you can imagine his anger when he lost to Karasuno

-no one expected the hallway to erupt in his screams so soon

“ tooru what’s wrong “

“ i’m just a little tired y/n i’m ok “

“ no but you — you look angry “

he took a deep breath as he shook his head in annoyance moving to walk off you standing in front of him stopping his exit

“ ok then if I look angry why the fuck would you stand in front of me “

“ because I “

“ because your fucking annoying that’s what it is “

“ tooru”

“ no don’t baby me y/n I don’t need you or anyone else to tell me I played good and I was amazing obviously I wasn’t if your standing here talking to me in a hallway and not in front of me while I celebrate on the court “

“ it’s ok baby — you can still win a volleyball nat— “

he lost his cool as he screamed looking down on you “ WHEN Y/N WHEN HUH “

he screamed harshly “ it’s over — are you fucking stupid there is no next time shitty kageyama took it there’s no next time for me — fuck we’re— we’re third years “

his voice sounded bloody by his screams that sounded throughout the hallway his team coming in to check and see if everything was ok receiving their answer when they turned the corner to you taking over

“ if I knew you were so fucking stupid I wouldn’t have dated you you were probably the bad luck charm that made me lose my shitty gam—“

“ the only thing that made you lose this game was you asshole “

your voice was laced with venom as you shot at him screaming constantly “ you and your shitty need to keep working endlessly maybe if you didn’t have a hurt knee — oh wait howd you get that “

you pretended to think “ oh I know FROM OVERWORKING YOURSELF “

you pushed a finger to his chest “ when I say your gonna make it to a nationals someday your gonna make it to a nationals someday you don’t doubt me is that clear “

his face was in fear as his mouth opened wide in a o form unable to process an answer

“ is that clear tooru oikawa “ you screamed

the team letting out yes’s for him as he moved to look back at them before he turned to you shaking his head like a puppy whod accidentally peed in the house

“ I need words “

“ y-fuck y—yes y/n — baby I mean ma’am — shit I mean yes baby “

you moved to stand straight as you cracked your neck and let a smile play on your face as you turned away from him walking to the entrance of the gym “ ok — babe I meant to tell you i’m gonna go say good game to kageyama- kun you go to the busses and make them wait for me ok “ you waved at him as you opened the door “ love you “

“ they wouldn’t dare leave ‘em “ kyotani’s voice came out in a laugh

“ fuck leaving them — theyd let ‘em drive“ hanamaki joked with mattsukawa who was screaming in laughter

your body entering the gym and walking over to kageyama who straightened up turning to speak to hinata who stood in fear

“ you speak nothing of what we heard to y/n-senpai“

“ y-yes ka-kageyama “

“ kageyama-kun youve grown up so much I love it“ you said holding your arms out to him speaking like he was a baby

“ h-hi y/n-senpai “

“ DID YOU KILL THE GREAT KING “