#So yeah. just a heads up and general statement.

[that-tall-queer-bassist]

OKAY for anyone who followed me from the nature wives server, while I'll keep my fics and ideas that include things that break cc's boundaries off the server, I'm not a fan of censoring fandom creations, so I'm gonna still post about stuff here. At the end of the day, they're characters like any others.

And if you disagree, think about this. Would you stop writing trans characters in HP fics just cause jkr (derogative) is a terf?

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

'wake from a dream where i was stuck, losing my teeth. lucky for me, it was all fake, or not what it seemed. where, oh, where do we go next? haunted pillow beneath my head. where does it go? where does it go? where does it go? ...pick out her heart with a kitchen fork, pin down her arms. wake from the scar, still feeling sick, where did it get started? where, oh, where did this come from? oh my god, my head's a gun- i let myself go. i let myself go. i let myself go. i let myself go. who's that kid who wakes each night, and takes me on these wretched rides? once i flew above the cars, and the wind blew gratitude through my heart. i let it all go, i let it all go...save us from our own two heads, can i keep just one and ditch the rest?'

kitchen fork by jack conte

[tardis--dreams]

Love to hear to "not worry" about traveling with medication from someone who doesn't depend on medication ♡

[delulujuls]

tinder buddies | ln4

hi! i have no idea how to comment on that. i've got inspiration from the rumors that are now going on twitter and tiktok about lando and his activity in sm and i thought man, i need to write something in this narrative because sexting with him??? scuse me??? but of course all of this is fiction and and i dont have any statement on the rumors about lan, mostly because all of these are rumors and not facts. anyway, pls leave his poor papaya ass alone and enjoy this instead!

summary: when you met your tinder buddy irl and realize how indeed world is small

warnings: masturbation on cam (both male and female), bit of swearing, in general alott of sexual tention

pairing: fem!journalist!reader x lando norris

Y/N thought that she was good at what she was doing. She thought that despite her young age she fit in the world of motorsport really well. Sometimes it even crossed her mind that she was no different from her older colleagues, what's more, sometimes she even thought that she was better than them. However, she admitted this only to herself with complete modesty and behind tightly closed doors.

Apart from the fact that Y/N was a really good journalist whose career was growing at a surprising pace, at the end of the day she was just a twenty-two-year-old girl who, like many other twenty-two-year-old girls in the world, had her smaller and bigger sins.

Y/N breathed heavily as she entered her hotel room. She set her suitcase and bag aside, taking off her shoes and plopping down on the bed. It was well after midnight, her flight was delayed by several hours and she was simply exhausted by the passing day. Even though she was excited about the events that awaited her in a few hours, right now she was just tired. However, she knew perfectly well what would help her relax before going to sleep. Not so much what, but who.

The girl unlocked her phone and easily found the Instagram icon, clicking on it and going straight to the messages. She entered the first conversation and was about to write some prosaic message, but she didn't have time to type out half of the sentence when a new message appeared in the chat.

"u up?"

Y/N smiled to herself. It looked like she could count on a pleasant end to the day.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing"

The reply message appeared a moment later.

"i was waiting for you to be available. i thought the evening would be wasted"

"And yet you see, surprise"

The person on the other end smiled and untied the drawstring on his sweatpants. He quickly wrote his answer with one hand.

"wanna call?"

"I think you know the answer"

She smiled and reached for the switch and turned off the light, pressing the camera icon with her other hand.

Y/N and the boy she had been messaging with for a little over a month knew next to nothing about each other. She had a private account and a few photos, he had a black icon and an empty profile. He only knew her name, she only the first letter of his. They met on Tinder, their profiles there looked quite similar. She has a few photos, more of the body than the face, he has the same, mostly in black and white. They had never seen each other's faces, but they knew each other's bodies inside and out.

Y/N placed her phone on the table and leaned it against the lamp, which she turned on a moment later. The light from it was dim, but it illuminated her body enough. The angle her phone was at only showed her from the neck down. She was perfect at maintaining her privacy.

"New background?"

He asked, seeing that the surroundings behind her were different from those he had seen before. She pulled her sweatshirt over her head, leaving her in only a bra and a thin t-shirt.

"I'm away from home"

"Work?"

"Too many questions"

There was quiet laughter on the other side. He liked her temperament. He liked her curves even more and the sounds she made when, at his command, she pushed her fingers inside her and brought herself to orgasm. Yes, he liked that too.

"Yeah, you're right. Strip."

Y/N pulled the t-shirt over her head and her interlocutor saw a red, lace bra that he never seen on her before. He smiled and ran his hand over his crotch. He felt a chill run through him.

"You look good, baby. Red suits you"

She laughed and pushed her hair behind her shoulders.

"Is this the first time you gonna tell me to keep my bra on?"

"For now, yes. I'd love to look at it for a while" he squeezed his cock and began to lightly massage it through the fabric. "You know what to do, dont'cha?"

Y/N bit her lip and lifted her hands, placing them gently on her shoulders. She slowly moved them down her body and when she found her breasts, she slowly started massaging them in circular motions. She closed her eyes and tilted her head slightly, hearing the sigh that came from her phone. He watched her carefully, following her every move.

"Take it off," he said after a while, "It's pretty, but I think I prefer you without it."

She quickly took off her bra and threw it aside. He smiled at the sight of her breasts. Y/N returned to them, continuing their massage. As she lightly pinched her nipples, she moaned softly. His cock vibrated at the sound that came from his headphones. He smiled.

"Does it feel good, baby?"

"Mhm, yeah" she answered, looking again at her phone "But you're playing unfair again. I have to see you too."

He chuckled and shook his head.

"You don't let me enjoy you"

He replied and put down the phone, quickly pulling his shirt over his head. He fell back on the pillows and turned on the light on his phone. Y/N smiled at the sight of the familiar, slightly tanned and toned torso. Her interlocutor didn't see it, but she smiled even more when he tightened his hand on his cock, which was now clearly visible on the gray material of his trousers.

"Take off the rest of your clothes and lie down"

He ordered. Y/N obediently lay down, taking off her pants and underwear. When the rustle of fabric could be heard on the other side, he easily freed himself from his pants and tight, slightly damp boxers. He spat on his hand and spread the saliva over his cock, feeling it tighten under his touch. Fuck, what he would give if instead of his hand it was this tiny hand that disappeared between the pair of thighs he saw on the screen of his phone.

The girl complied with his command and he saw her middle finger slowly sinking inside her, only to come out after a while covered with her juices.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, "You're so wet, baby."

“I wish you were here and licked me clean.”

Y/N said, rubbing her clit. She felt that she wouldn't need much to reach orgasm.

Her interlocutor smiled under his breath, but she wasn't able to see it.

"I'm afraid that i would make you even more wet."

"Someone has quite an ego here"

"I know my capabilities, baby."

She snorted under her breath and made herself more comfortable, inserting her finger into herself again. First one, quite slowly, and soon she added another one. A long moan filled the hotel room as she began to move them, imagining that it was not her but him who was fucking her. And not with his fingers, but with his wet, hard cock.

"Yeah, just like that, baby. Keep going."

His eyes carefully followed the screen and the activities taking place on it. His hand moved smoothly over his cock, his lips were slightly opened. As he was stroking himself, the glass of his watch on his wrist reflected the light from the phone. He wore it every time they cam together. Y/N didn't know anything about watches, so she didn't know what brand it was or whether it was expensive. They never talked about it, honestly, they basically never had a normal chat. However, he once asked her about the tattoo on her forearm, just below the inner bend of her elbow. He noticed it after the first time they met on camera. When it was all over and they were about to hang up and return to their real lives, he asked about it.

"What does 33 mean?"

He asked when the girl started getting dressed.

"What?"

"Tattoo on your arm"

The girl looked at her forearm and only then did she understand what he was asking about.

"I can't tell you because you'll make fun of me"

Hearing this, he smiled. Not because there was probably some stupid story behind it, but because the girl was concerned about not looking bad in front of him. Even though they absolutely didn't know each other.

"I barely know your name, I don't know why I would make fun of you."

Y/N was silent for a moment, glancing at her tattoo and lightly stroking it with her thumb.

"Do you know Formula 1?"

He smiled and nodded. His reaction, however, was beyond her reach.

"I know a thing or two"

"My favorite driver drives with this number. Well, actually he did, now his number is 1. But for me it will still be associated with 33"

The girl explained. She felt a bit embarrassed to expose herself to him, especially with something like this. However, he did not laugh at her or comment on her confession in any negative way.

"I have a friend who is also involved in motorsport and has the same number. Actually, not anymore, because he also had to change it. But for me it will also be associated only with 33"

Y/N smiled at his words. Sometimes she wondered if they could become friends and get to know each other a little better. But then she decided to come down to earth and remind herself that she had no time for relationships or friendships. Now the most important thing for her is work and career, everything else can wait. After all, no one will satisfy her as much as herself. Right?

"Fuck, I could fill you so good, baby," he moaned, gasping for breath. He felt that he was only seconds away from orgasm "You have no idea how much pleasure I would give you."

The girl's lips were opened, her eyelids were shut tightly. She massaged her clit with her left hand and moved the fingers of her right hand inside her in quick, uneven movements.

"I'm about to- I…oh my god-"

“Yes, baby, thats it" he gasped, speeding up "Cum for me.”

She felt a wave of pleasure wash over her. The moment her back arched, she heard a long "fuck" coming from her phone. He came shortly after her, staining his toned abs with his sperm. He squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his head back, trying to calm his breathing. There was silence on both sides for a moment, neither of them moving an inch.

After some time, Y/N sat on the bed and reached for a tissue, wiping her hands on it.

"I have to go now. I have a lot of work waiting for me tomorrow."

"Me too. I wanted to let you know that we may not be able to have a call tomorrow."

He answered, also wiping himself.

“It's okay, no big deal,” Y/N replied and took one last look at the muscled, tanned torso visible on her phone screen, “Good night. And good luck with your chores tomorrow.”

“Good night, baby. You too.”

She smiled and reached for her phone, ending the call. Exhausted from the previous day and the evening cam session, she just buried herself in the blanket and shortly after fell asleep. The next day, when her alarm went off, she was full of energy despite several hours of sleep. She couldn't wait for saturday's qualifying and all she was thinking about as she was getting ready was whether she would be able to get good material.

As she put on her red bra, she smiled involuntarily as she remembered last night. She wondered if he had already gotten lost in the whirlwind of his today's duties. Y/N quickly got dressed, gathered her things and, putting her pass around her neck, left the hotel. When she got to the track and was in the paddock, she couldn't think about anything else. Her only thoughts revolved around what was going to happen on the track in a few dozen minutes. However, for a split second she wondered what her tinder buddy actually knew about Formula 1. Maybe they could have something to talk about? Maybe she could even take him to some grand prix?

Her thoughts disappeared when she noticed Lando Norris hanging around the McLaren garage. The girl asked the cameraman to prepare the equipment and she would ask the Brit if he would be willing to have a short conversation. She squeezed the microphone in her hand and without thinking, she approached him, introducing herself and asking if it was possible to record a short conversation.

Hearing her name, his heart did a flip. He knew that name very well.

"Sure, no problem"

He replied with a smile, obviously not revealing himself, and ran his hand through his hair. The glass of the watch strapped to his wrist gleamed in the sunlight. Y/N had seen this watch before. Many times.

The girl smiled back and, hearing his agreement, gave a thumbs up to the cameraman. When she raised her hand, the sleeve of her shirt rolled up, and Lando's eyes involuntarily caught the tattoo on her forearm. A slight 33, just below the bend in the elbow.

He felt a sudden wave of heat wash over him. It's a coincidence, right? It must be.

"How's your mood before qualifying?"

Y/N asked, putting the microphone down and straightening her shirt. As she was arranging her collar, Lando's eyes caught a glimpse of her red bra strap. He smiled to himself and looked down. He wondered how many accidents and coincidences had come together in the universe and resulted in this situation.

"What? Something wrong?"

The girl asked, not knowing what made him react like that.

He shook his head and after a moment looked up again. He looked at the girl carefully. However, she was completely lost and looked at him questioningly.

"Sorry, as you can probably see, my mood is great. I'm positive about today's qualifying."

Y/N tentatively gripped her microphone. When the cameraman approached them, they started recording the footage and she had no time to analyze Lando's strange behavior. In fact, it was possible that this was their first and last conversation ever, so why should she care about it. When they managed to record a short material, Y/N thanked him and wished him successful qualifications. After that everyone went their separate ways.

Immediately after entering the garage, Lando found his phone buried in a pile of his things. He quickly entered his latest conversation on Instagram and, without thinking, decided to send the girl a message. Worst case scenario, he'll just make a fool of himself, which isn't a big deal since they don't know each other at all. At best, he would spend tonight as he had long dreamed of.

"ure even prettier than i thought, baby."

Y/N felt a vibration in her pants pocket and without thinking, she unlocked her phone. She was surprised to see a notification coming from Instagram, and she was even more surprised when she noticed who sent her the message. After reading it, she felt a cold sweat break out on her. However, she decided to think and act soberly.

"How do you know what I look like?"

"turn around"

Lando replied quickly and leaned against the threshold of his garage. The girl clutched her phone in her hands and obeyed his command with her heart beating wildly. Lando smiled at her, holding his still unlocked phone. Y/N felt a lack of saliva in her mouth. It's impossible, it's not really happening.

"Are you sure we're looking at the same person?"

She replied, having difficulty pressing the appropriate keys with her fingers. He was amused by her reaction. This whole situation didn't make sense to him. It was crazy.

"im looking at a pretty neat journalist with a mad bunda who has a tattoo with my friend's racing number. and u?"

Y/N blushed. Fuck. It's him.

"I see that your jumpsuit is a little tight in some places."

Lando snorted under his breath. The girl wasn't lying. The whole situation made quite an impression on him.

Y/N bit her lip and looked up. She'd be lying if she said it wasn't arousing.

"u know exactly why its tight"

"I guess I have to find out in real life. The camera likes to lie."

When she sent the message, she looked up again and their eyes locked. The Brit winked at her and quickly replied, turning on his heel and disappearing into the depths of the garage.

"my driver's room in five minutes. ill be happy to dispel your doubts"

[dollaches]

— one more time

♡ painslut!sub! ellie williams x fem! reader

a/n: from a request! for all my impact play enjoyers lol

warnings: DON’T LIKE DON’T READ! — porn w no plot, sub! ellie, dom! reader, begging, crying, thigh riding, tit slapping, face slapping, ellie is a squirter bc i said so, busted lip, mentions of blood, impact play in general, needy and pathetic ellie (praise god), mentions of spit, fully clothed r! w/ naked ellie, pain kink (?), very poorly written aftercare

wc: 1k

“please— puh-lease” ellie mutters for what must be the hundredth time, her incessant pleading frustrating you to no end. she is begging like her life depends on it yet all you do is keep a firm grip on her hips, digging into her soft flesh with your fingers so you’ll be able to see the bruises by tomorrow. 

“jesus, shut up or tell me what you want so badly” you spit out, finally bothering to even glance at her flushed features. her lips are parted, the smallest bit of spit dripping from her mouth from having it open just to get a few weak breaths in. 

she lets out the most pathetic whine you’ve ever heard, her eyes so needy as she silently pleads with you— whether the plea is to be gentle or rougher, you are unsure. her hips stutter weakly at your words, barely able to form any coherent sentences as she frantically ruts against your thigh, completely bare while you’re still fully clothed. 

“need you to hit me” she mutters breathlessly, her shaky hands resting on your shoulders just to keep herself upright. you can feel the mess her cunt is making, her slick soaking through your jeans and leaving your thigh sticky beneath the fabric. 

her words are barely loud enough to hear and you scoff at her inability to communicate when she is seeking out pleasure. “speak up or i’m leaving you here to sort this shit out yourself” you threaten firmly, not being in any mood to play games with her today. 

“no, please! just want you to hit me, wanna feel you, please!” she begs as loud as she possibly can, sounding absolutely filthy as she pleads to be hit. ellie’s confession makes you hum, pleased she at least still has enough of her brain left to tell you what she wants. 

“yeah? humping my thigh like some bitch in heat isn’t enough for you, is that it?” you question, only to be met with a stream of mewls from her lips that makes you smile with a sick sense of satisfaction. you want to toy with her a bit; after all you are the one in control. 

“right here?” you question before you raise your hand, landing a painful smack against one of her plush tits, watching it move from the force of the impact, a low moan leaving your lips just from the sight of her boobs continuously bouncing as she rocks her hips against your thigh. 

ellie lets out a pretty moan, one you wish you could play over and over until it was burned into your memory forever. pain blossoms throughout her chest which would usually please her, but she knows you’re purposely hitting her in the wrong place to prolong her suffering. 

“no, no, m’ face. wanna be hit in the face, pretty please” she gasps out, her clit finally being rubbed in just the right way, needing something perfect to help push her over the edge. 

you click your tongue, pretending to be surprised by her statement. “ah, why didn’t you just say so? is your brain leaking out of your cunt or have you always been this dumb?” you question playfully, although your own pussy is aching to be touched from how turned on you are just from watching her. 

without another word you pull back your arm, focusing on your target before landing a smack hard enough to leave a red handprint on her soft cheek. ellie lets out a weak cry, her head turning a bit from the force of the hit. 

“fuck yeah” she gasps, her eyes dazed and half lidded as she manages to keep up her pace of riding your thigh. there's a lazy grin on her plush lips, tears welling in her eyes as a tingling pain sensation overcomes her. 

“more, more” she breathes, her slick cunt practically gliding against you with ease from the mess she’s made. you don’t make her wait much longer, delivering another blow, noting the way she lets out an obscene moan. “close, m’ close” she mumbles, tears now streaming down her cheeks steadily. 

the moment the words leave her lips, you know just what she needs to get there. after giving her little time to recover, you slap her at a painful angle, her bottom lip colliding with her teeth as your hand makes contact with the fragile skin. 

and just like that, she is moaning out your name, spurts of her arousal soaking your thigh completely. she lets out weak cries as she comes down, her head falling as the smallest bit of blood seeps from her freshly busted lip. “thank you” she whimpers, not at all embarrassed by the mess she had made, only focused on being as close to you as possible. 

“aw, you’re welcome, angel” you coo, pressing her nude and shaking frame against your own body to give her the warmth and comfort she is seeking. her thighs shake as she clings to you like a baby cub, her nose nuzzling against you as she buries her face in your neck so she can soothe herself. 

“did so good for me, took every hit so well” you praise, knowing she is still in a spacey state of mind. “does your lip hurt too much, baby? you want me to clean you up real quick?” you offer, keeping your touch gentle as you graze your fingers across her lower back. 

she whines and shakes her head, holding onto you even tighter since she didn’t want you to separate from her in the slightest. “s’ fine, babe. in a little, need you right now” she mumbles, raising her hips a bit since the liquid beneath her was beginning to grow cold. 

you simply hum, guiding her head back for a moment so you can at least wipe away some of the blood with your thumb. with a swift motion, you wipe the crimson substance onto your jeans, figuring you’ll already have to wash them anyways. 

“alright, alright. rest up for a bit and then i’ll get you all clean and bandaged up” you say softly, a complete shift from your previous behavior. 

she simply goes back to hiding her face im your neck, nodding a bit as she tries to not focus on the way the fabric of your t shirts are perfectly rubbing against her hardened nipples. 

as a comfortable silence falls between the two of you, ellie begins to think of the right way to tell you she still needs a little more from you tonight.

[redstarwriting]

pda/general affection hcs | i.

ft. hobie brown & miles morales

request?: yes

request: “Hiiii!!! I am absolutely IN LOVE with ur the clash series and I can't wait to see how it progresses!!! Could u do some pda/general affection hcs for the spider verse characters? I would love to see Miles and Hobie hcs but it's rlly up to whatever characters u would wanna write for. Endless thanks!!”

warnings:  language, cuteness, mentions of dying, mentions of injuries, mentions of throwing up, mentions of being overwhelmed

a/n: i love hcs lol this was actually how i first starting writing and it’s so fun bc i can be my sarcastic self without having to change any of it teehee, thank you for requesting anon! thinking of doing this for other characters to, what does everyone think?

i’ve made a pt ii. to this with gwen and pavitr if you wanna check it out!

───────────────────────────────────

hobie brown | spider-punk

pda

- he’s kind of a middle ground - not crazy about it - not against it at all - he just - hold onto your hats for this one - ✨he does what he wants✨ - ofc it also depends who’s company you’re in - if y’all are with Miles, Gwen, and Pavitr, he’s super comfortable and a part - of his body will always be touching yours - but it’s not like he’s goin out of his way to be like LOOK AT MY PARTNER - HOWEVER - if he’s ANYWHERE where there are authority figures? - *cough* miguel *cough* - he will just start to make out with you - LMAO - “Hobie, can you stop kissing your partner and listen to me.”   “No.”   “You’re aware of how rude you’re being?”   “Good.” - if you don’t like it ofc he won’t but he WILL be touchier with you in those moments - because it pisses people off - and he loves that - also if he felt threatened? - he’d probably get a little touchier than usual - but honestly he almost never feels threatened so who knows if you’d ever experience that - and if he did ever feel threatened he would feel better knowing that you always wear one of his studded bracelets - ppl will ask where you got it and you’ll be all - “Oh! My boyfriend Hobie!” - he loves seeing the hope drain out of anyone’s eyes when he appears behind you after that statement, he finds it so amusing every time - he’s only obsessed with a few things - like there is something he will ALWAYS do - he is OBSESSED and i mean OBSESSSSSEEDDD with having his hand in your back pocket - at all times - only if it isn’t around your shoulders (another obsession of his) - like y’all are going to one of his shows? - you enter with his hand in your back pocket - after gets offstage? - hand in back pocket - walking home? - hand in back pocket - sometimes y’all will walk instead of him picking you up and webbing back home JUST BECAUSE he wants to put his hand in your back pocket - he also LOVES using you as an armrest - if you’re short, he places his arm on your head like an armrest - if you’re average height, he’s still using your head as an armrest - if you’re tall or as tall as him he will climb a wall to use your head as an armrest - it gets you flustered and he thinks it’s adorable! - and eye contact? - he will keep his eyes trained on you at all times - he’s always looking at you - or else he’s looking for you - only looks away SOMETIMES when he’s talking to other people - “Hobie, I’m over here.”   “Yeah, I know.”   “So stop looking at them, I’m the one talking to you.”   “Yeah, but you ain’t the fittest person in the room so piss off, eh?” - that being said - there is something he just doesn’t do in public - he doesn’t hold hands - i do feel like he would hold pinkies with you upon request - but holding hands just isn’t his thing - in public👀

general affection

- THIS MAN HAS THE WORLD FOOLED - he acts all nonchalant about it - acts like he only does pda to go against societal rules - which he does BUT ALSO - he is so touchy - he isn’t clingy by any regard - but he LOVES being affectionate - just like the smallest things - every morning when y’all wake up in the same bed together and he wakes up before you (which is a lot bc he doesn’t sleep well) he will place a feather-light kiss somewhere on your face so he doesn’t wake you up - but like clockwork - he will do it - and after he will just lay there and hold you for a bit - even when during the night the two of you separate from each other he will always reach out for you during those times - and he will maneuver you back into his arms so he can just lay there with you for a bit - every time you ask him why he just tells you you make him a “bloody softie” - which yeah you do - but also - he gets scared when he comes home, you won’t be there - with his job that isn’t really a job and all, he gets so nervous that you’ll just be fed up with it and leave - or worse, you’ll be used as bait for him - bait which he would immediately take, of course - he even does it because he thinks about the possibility of him not coming home one day - and he wants you to feel like you were loved if that happens - he also just loves the little smile that comes to your face every morning - when you realize he’s done it again - and that is just ONE THING - he hates getting injured, but would lie if he said he hated getting patched up by you - when you’re cleaning his wounds with alcohol the two of you hold hands - he’ll squeeze when it stings and you’ll squeeze when you feel bad - so you’re kinda squeezing his hand the whole time - but you know how i said he doesn’t hold hands in public? - at home it’s a different story - watching tv? - hands are held - looking at the stars from the top of a building? - hands are held - throwing up after drinking too much? - hands are held - so is hair - and he rubs your back - you rub his - he adores back scratches (not when he’s throwing up just in general LMAO) - one thing he didn’t realize he loved so much until it happened was when he was sitting and playing his guitar on y’alls bed - just mindlessly finger picking some melodies - and you came up and sat behind him and put your head on his shoulder and wrapped your arms around his waist and kissed his cheek and just - stayed there - it made him melt - he loves it so much - he especially loves it when you hum along - even if you can’t hold a tune - it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard he doesn’t care - you can expect him to be all over you the minute he gets back from being Spider-Punk - especially when he has a bad day - i could probably give more examples but this is already kinda long lmao oops

overall

- he LOVES affection - public and private - if he loves you, he’s gonna show it - he’s gonna scream it, literally and figuratively - everyone will know y’all are together - which he loves - but that’s not why he does it - he just loves you - and doesn’t care what other ppl think 🤭

miles morales | spider-man

pda

- omg this lil man is so awkward - i’m far older than him and he makes me think of how nervous and awkward i was at his age when it came to any type of romance - so i can see him being SO unintentionally awkward in public - he tries so hard to be cool - but omg - the tiniest thing will go wrong and he’ll go from 😏 to 😟 - everything is the end of the world until you assure him it isn’t - like the time he saw you outside around Brooklyn Visions Academy and thought it’d be so cute to go up behind you and cover your eyes and say “guess who :)” - except it wasn’t you - you were across the street and watched it all go down - he literally made eye contact with you the minute he tried to be cute - the HORROR on his face - he was immediately apologizing to the random person he just did that to - in the moment you were so confused - but when you and him were in his dorm and he was flailing his arms around -and yelling in lowercase explaining it? - oh my god - hilarious - he was all pouty when you started laughing so you had to attack his face with little kisses to make him cheer up - one would have done the trick but he was grateful for all of the ones you gave him regardless - or the time he went to wrap his arm around your waist during lunch because he wanted to be all cute in school and you turned around as soon as he put his arm out and tried to walk and his sturdiness and strength made you literally drop your lunch tray and the food went everywhere - and there you were again in his dorm as he was flailing his arms around and yelling in lowercase apologizing because you just got new shoes and he ruined it and— - shut him up with a kiss, would you? - a display of public affection that always happens though is you’re always in his jacket - to the point where he has two of the same jacket now so you guys can be twinning :,) - “Look, babe! Same jacket!”   “Oh my god wait! We’re gonna be so cute!”   “I know, right? Pretty smart and cute of me, huh?”   “Very smart and cute of you, Miles.” - he also loves to have his hand on top of yours whenever he can - he’ll do it in class - if y’all go out to eat - if he’s sketching and you’re next to him - and holding hands in public is a favorite of his - it’s very tiny things that he does because every time he tries something big something goes wrong - like opening a door for you and motioning you to go in before him - and always being ready to steady you if you would trip (which happens more than he thought it would) - and always fixing your necklace that he bought you for your birthday (with the help of Rio) when the little clasp comes down in the front - he’s constantly staring at you with a dopey grin on his face - literally will get called out in class because he’s just 👁👄👁 - and then he gets all flustered  - but the smile you get on your face letting him know you like him that much will relax him - will go from “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to draw attention to you!” to “yeah, you like that? imma do it more then.” - he’ll also pretend to drum on you with his pencils when you’re near him - especially if he has his headphones in - he likes to play this game where you guess which one of his songs he’s jamming out to - sometimes he says you got it right when you get it wrong just to see you get excited - and he doesn’t necessarily mean for this to be a public display of affection, - but his constant drawing of you is frequently watched by other classmates - the only person who has successfully seen his bold moves of affection is Ganke, and he pretends to gag every time lol

general affection

- he’s such an affectionate boy 🥹 - like i said, Ganke is the only one who successfully sees his physical affection plots work - he’s much smoother when people aren’t around - and yes, he has shown you the shoulder touch - you did it to him once and he short-circuited - i’m so serious he accidentally shocked you - but then he hugged and kissed you for like 40 minutes afterward cause he felt bad - so it wasn’t too bad of an experience - but when it comes to physical affection in private, he’s worlds better at it - any time he plays video games, whether that be with you or Ganke, he has his leg over top of yours - He loves watching movies with you where you lay your head on his lap and he just mindlessly draws little shapes on your shoulder - he also loves having you laying on top of him while y’all cuddle - it makes him feel safe (and he gets to steal soooo many kisses from you) - you’re kinda like his very own weighted blanket but not even because his spider strength makes you feel like a feather - but it’s also an easy way for him to keep a hold of you and feel like he’s protecting you - he also loves to take you web swinging - holding you super close and taking you to a tall building away from anyone who can see y’all - he loves that - sometimes he’ll have like a whole picnic type date set up and y’all will just have a cute lil date on the top of the one world trade center - he also loves having you over to his place - his parents love you - and you love them - they make him keep his door cracked when y’all are in there together but it’s mainly because they love to peek in and see their son so in love - Jefferson took like 74 pictures the first time he saw y’all napping together - And Rio took like 52 pictures when she caught the two of you on the roof of the building and he was playing you a playlist he made for you - he does that a lot but that was the first time Rio saw it - she was ecstatic lol - he occasionally will just poke you for no reason - and by occasionally i mean he does it constantly - “Miles? Why did you do that?”   “Do what?”   “I literally saw you poke me.”   “No, I didn’t”   “…”   “…”   “I did, you’re just so cute, I don’t know.” - he also loves drawing on your hand - the back of your hand has constant Miles doodles - sometimes it’s stuff like the two of your initals in a heart - sometimes it’s Spider-Man - sometimes it’s just whatever was on his mind - but you love your constant Miles hand drawings - and he feels like it’s some sort of way for other people to know you’re his - but when he does it it’s so cute - cause he’s so gentle - and no one is watching - but you’re sitting there and just smiling as he creates a work of art on your hand and the playlist he made full of songs that remind him of how you made him feel the first time he saw you is softly playing in the background - he calls them temporary tattoos and one day you’re going to actually get one of the doodles tattooed on you somewhere - he’ll probably have a heart attack from how much he loves it but hey that’s fine he’ll recover - speaking of he loves to draw with you - he doesn’t care about your skill level, he just loves to be creative with you - he also is very much all about making sure you’re eating - getting enough sleep - prioritizing yourself above everything else - and if anything is ever bothering you - he is There - he will always be there and it’s very comforting - he just wants you to be happy all the time and does his best to do so - and you feel the same - so any time the responsibility of Spider-Man is too much for him - or when his parents get on him because he’s hiding half of who he is - you’re there for him - often times after he comes home from a long day of Spider-Manning he’s the one who is being held, but you’re fine with that - cause he can be vulnerable with you and he needs it

overall

- Miles is getting the hang of being in a relationship - he really does love pda but is so bad at it lmao - when he gets better beware - you will be a melting mess in public all the time - but for right now it’s just behind the scenes where he’s able to show how he really feels - give him all the hugs he needs ‘em

[dixons-sunshine]

No-Nonsense | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

A/N: I am so sorry this sucks. I’m moving in a few days, Saturday to be exact, and I’ve been packing non-stop today. When I finally sat down, my brain was fried and I couldn’t really think of words lol. This was the best I could do. I hope it’s still somewhat okay!

The sound of a disbelieving scoff being let out had Daryl tensing up. His cerulean-coloured eyes trailed over to where you leaned back against the wall, his hard, steel-like gaze resting on your face. “Ya got somethin’ ya wanna say, Sunshine?”

“Yeah, I do.” Your own angered stare rested solely upon the crossbow-wielding archer, T-Dog, Rick and the kid, Miguel or something, not even being on your mind at that moment. “I want a gun.”

Daryl rolled his eyes at your statement. He didn’t even know why Rick had bothered asking you along. If shit hit the fan, you wouldn’t be able to protect yourself, and the archer didn’t feel like dying for some woman he didn’t even care for. Sure, you were a resident at Atlanta General before the world ended and had come along to check if Merle had potentially suffered from heatstroke, but other than that, you were useless. At least, to Daryl’s knowledge.

“Yeah, well ya ain’t gettin’ one. I ain’t ‘bout to have my head blown off ‘cause’a yer shit aim,” Daryl told you defiantly. Truth be told, he did not even know whether or not you could use a gun, but if your hesitance towards even looking at Dale’s shotgun back at the camp was anything to go by, it was best not to trust you with a weapon that could potentially lead to his demise.

Cleverly sensing that the situation would escalate without an intervention, the self-appointed leader stepped forward and between your’s and Daryl’s line of sight. “No need to get at each other’s throats.” Rick sighed, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. The last thing he wanted was for blood to be spilled over something as meaningless as an argument. The main concern was getting Glenn back. Rick turned towards you, an understanding glint in his eyes. “Shane told me you didn’t know how to handle a gun. I’m guessin’ he’s got it wrong.”

“Shane doesn’t know shit,” you spat bitterly, pushing yourself off the wall. “I know how to use a gun. I just don’t like it.”

“Yeah, well s’the way’a life now, Sweetheart. Better get to likin’ it real quick,” Daryl interjected before Rick could respond. He picked up his crossbow and slung it across his shoulder. “‘Sides, how do we know ya ain’t jus’ lyin’ to us?”

“You don’t,” you began, your jaw clenching as you tried to suppress your anger. “I could be lying to you, or I could be telling the truth. Either way, I’m not walking into that place with nothing but my good looks. So we can continue to argue about this all day, or you can stop being an asshole, shut up, trust me, and give me a goddamn gun, or else you can tend to your brother’s wounds on your own if we find him. Your choice.”

If there was one thing Daryl had to give you points for, it was your no-nonsense attitude. Most of the women at the camp seemed to fear him, but you didn’t. Time and time again, you stood up to both Shane and Merle. You refused to be belittled, and he respected you for that. You could stand your ground, regardless of the person you faced.

Swallowing his pride, because he sensed that he could potentially have been in the wrong, Daryl reached forward and grabbed a handgun from the table. He offered it to you, and when you wrapped your hand around the handle, his hand lingered on the weapon for a few moments. “Jus’ so ya know, I ain’t gon’ carry ya when ya shoot yerself in the foot.”

Against your better judgement, you sent him a small smile. “And I’m not gonna carry you when that guy shoots you in the ass for shooting him in his.”

Daryl let out a small huff of laughter. Under normal circumstances, the archer would have still been pissed. However, for some reason, seeing your smile made his anger fade away and be replaced with another feeling, one that unnerved him beyond belief. However, he pushed that odd, fluttery feeling to the depths of his mind. There were far more pressing matters at hand.

Before he could speak up, Rick’s voice flooded the air, making you and Daryl practically jump apart. “Now that that’s settled, let’s get goin’.” For added emphasis, he cocked his gun, motioning towards the kid. “Let’s get Glenn back.”

You spared one last look at the brooding archer. He gave you a small nod, a stark contrast to his previously angered, frustrated state. “After you,” he mumbled, motioning towards the door.

You sent him a playful smirk as you walked past him. “Why, thank you. That was almost gentlemanly of you.”

“Keep up the smart ass remarks and m’shootin’ an arrow into yer behind.”

[pearlzier]

────⠀ ⠀AT THE FAIRGROUND w/ SOLDIER BOY.

NOTES .ᐣ idea came from the loveliest @sl33pylilbunny :3 this is SO cute i love it so much ohmygosh. used a jellycat cause i love em n want one really bad.

"i'll win y'every single thing in this damn place if it'll get you to stop whinin' 'bout it," ben grumbles as he stares down the plush toy stuck within its glass enclosure. it's taunting him, taunting you. those beady black eyes.. it knows exactly what it's doing. and ben'll be damned if he loses to a fucking teddy bear with a pumpkin for a body. he'd beat countless of threats before—a teddy bear was nothing. and besides, you'd been giving the thing the softest, most adoring googly eyes from the moment you'd seen it. which was approximately.. almost an hour ago.

the staring was fine, sure, but the moment you started begging him to win it for you, for a good ten minutes? yeah, he has to get it over and done with, he realised. after the fifth, "ben, please, it's half teddy bear half pumpkin," he'd been practically sprinting across the fairground to make it to the infamous claw machine holding your future plush toy hostage. that toy would be yours, he'd make sure of it. it has to be.

he also wanted to prove the stories wrong, the ones saying that the claw machine was 'unbeatable' or that it took only luck to win it. he's soldier boy, for fuck's sake. "which one you want again, sweetheart?" he sighed, scratching the back of his neck momentarily. ben knew exactly what you wanted but he wanted to see the twinkle in your eyes when you mentioned it.

your brows raise skeptically for a minute when he asks, but a soft smile settles on your lips. "that one right there," you hum, "teddy bear, pumpkin body, it's literally perfect, oh my god," ben just watches you for a minute, a scoff escaping him. though the corners of his lips flit up at the sight of you and he sighs, "yeah, yeah, i got it. just watch 'n' learn." he gestured for you to step back a little bit, so he could work his magic.

honestly? anyone else looking on would've been so confused to see a guy like ben winning a stuffed toy. or at a fairground in the first place. he'd been totally reluctant, actually—it's not exactly his kind of fun but it is yours. he was wrapped around your finger wholeheartedly, he'd do every damn thing you asked him to. even if he wouldn't admit it, even if it was a little embarrassing for him. so dragging him to the fairground wasn't difficult at all when it came down to it.

and he had to admit, it was pretty cool here. it's halloween themed, with all the trimmings—haunted house, kids in cute costumes, the music. it almost makes him nostalgic, in a way. going on the rides was a lot of fun too, seeing the way you screamed and shriek when the two of you went on the drop tower was so much fucking fun.

"stop being a pussy—! holy fucking shit, this is it, it's over—"

what he didn't want to admit was the way he was also screaming and shrieking everytime the gondola got dropped. despite how he denied it, those photos you'd gotten on the way out completely corroborate your statement and destroyed his. those'd be perfect for your wallet, you knew. and y'know what'd be even better for like, your life, just, in general? that teddy bear.

"people say these things are rigged," ben starts, rubbing his hands together as if that's summoning the power he needs to beat the machine.

you stare at the back of his head for a moment, a skeptical sound escaping you. an interesting take from ben, sure, but everyone knows he has a lot of those. "is that not because they literally are rigged?" your words are amused, and you full on laugh when he pins you with that unamused look of his own. "just saying," your shoulders shrug, a smile playing on your lips at the sight of him.

"gotta have faith, baby," he tells you, deciding not to actually address what you'd said in favour of channeling any and all energy towards winning you the toy. "with all this strength o'mine it's gonna work," ben murmurs, holding onto the joystick like it owes him money. you won't be surprised if it does end up owing him money considering the odds of a claw machine like this one.

if he didn't manage to win the teddy bear, you wouldn't mind all that much. sure, you wanted it, but at the same time, the dedication that ben had to do it for you would've been enough. but also, you knew you wouldn't be leaving that damn machine without a pumpkin teddy bear in your hands. "you see, it's all in the technique."

"technique, huh?" you muse, moving a little closer to stand beside him and watch for a moment, hands moving into the pockets of your jacket. well, his jacket. you'd taken it since it was warm and smelt exactly like his cologne. "yeah, technique," ben nods, completely serious, not an ounce of sarcasm in his tone compared to yours. "told y'to watch 'n' learn, so watch 'n' learn," he cleared his throat, before his brow furrowed in concentration.

your watching and learning soon became watch and learn how to get narrowly close to being banned from a fairground. you're pretty sure the amount of profanities that came out of ben over the past.. probably ten minutes is enough to get the two of you thrown out considering how many children are nearby. might get a record for the most mothers covering their childrens' ears at this rate.

"ben, it's okay, i can just buy one off the websi—"

"you're getting this fucking bear tonight, darlin'," everytime you'd tried to convince him it was okay, that you guys could go get burgers and fries and call it a day, he told you that the two of you wouldn't be moving from there. "almost got it.. almost.." his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, as he inserted another coin into the machine. this time the joystick actually owed him money. and the thirty other times, but that didn't matter now.

you zone out a little bit now, assuming this'd be like the aformentioned thirty other times, where he'd spewed out obscenities, then proceeded to shove another coin into the machine like nothing had happened prior. ben had assured you this was his 'method' and everything was happening according to plan. he'd never exactly been great at planning, but there you were.

"i told you!" that snaps you out of your thoughts, and much to your surprise, when you look up, there's a teddy bear with a pumpkin for a body in ben's hands. he's beaming like an idiot, so proud of himself even if he'd been acting previously like he wasn't even breaking a sweat. he wipes his forehead, some sweat having accumulated from how hard he was working. a little concerning, considering it was a pretty cold day, but.. the dedication.

"oh my god, ben!" you're practically squealing, looking between him and the teddy bear back and forth rapidly before you find yourself wrapping your arms around the two of them. subtly tucking the toy by his armpit, he eases his arms around you in return. a smug smile settles on his lips, his head cocking to the side momentarily to get a full look of you so happy and clinging to his figure.

"just doin' what i gotta do, y'know," ben shrugs, his free hand cradling the back of your head gently. the two of you were completely blocking the claw machine from anyone else, some kid standing there awkwardly since he wanted to use it, but he decided you two were having a bit of a moment so he thought maybe the haunted house was a better choice. "you uh.. really like that thing, huh?"

"like you a lot more, actually," you mumble, grasping at his face and drawing him closer so you can peck your lips to his own. his eyes widen for a minute, and before he gets the chance to melt in more, you pull back. he pouts, glancing around a minute. it made sense, yeah, this is a fairground, but still. can't leave a guy hanging like that. he sighs, "had me workin' real hard there. think the least a guy can get is some good food, right?"

you hummed for a moment in mock thought. as if you were gonna say no and make him win another plush toy. he quite literally would've lost his mind if you'd asked him to. luckily, you nodded, "okay, yeah. burgers?" you offer too, head tilting.

"and fries, can't forget 'em," he murmured, nodding his head in return. before he walked with you to the food stands, he reached for the teddy bear and pushed it into your hands gently. a soft smile played on his lips, "yeah, now we're ready. c'mon, m'fuckin' starvin'."

ִ ֹ ★ @blue-d, @dayzeandhaze, @gibson-g1rl, @stevelacylovebot, @psychicnatural, @funkycoloured, @lovesickgrlsrh0t, @soldierboycunt, @hrtsoldierboy, @beetlejenna, @venusiers, @v3nusasagrl, @imwetforyourmom, @pr3ttyf4wn, @pillwebb, @beridollie, @sincerebabydoll, @angelicjackles, @sweetrelieef, @deansbite, @morganwrites12672, @chevroletdean, @fallbhind ִ ꒱

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

logan howlett blurb 18+

hi hi im sorry guys this isnt awesome but i love my wolverine and maybe ill make a part two or perhaps something cool like that if ya like it! also just general warning for smut and some kinky age gap stuff! also. reader is fem and a mutant! word count: 1030 edit: you can now read a full version of this blurb here!

You are absolutely enthralled with him. It’s actually sort of pathetic how your fingers twitch at the sight of him, at how the mention of his name or god forbid the sound of his voice makes your head snap up, attention deficit disorders be damned!

Funnily enough, you had no damn interest in Xavier’s stupid mutant school, because to you, you’re not an outsider because of your mutant abilities (that don’t have much of a physical apparition, at least one that you can’t hide) but because there’s never been much of a place for you to fit in.

But, you were behind on rent and of course, you fucking hate your job, so why not? You’d be able to be slightly less of a freak, and you’d get free room and board in the process! (Where Charles gets all of his money, you do not know.)

And because you’re a little older, Charles doesn’t force you to sit in a class room to learn about basic arithmetic and grammar lessons, so you really only do some training around three times a day, you have your own room (with a dusty box under the other bed, you also suspect your room used to be the ‘sex’ room) and you have the weekends off.

So for a twenty something year old with few ambitions, the social skills of a Martian with autism, and a huge crush on every older emotionally unavailable man you meet, it’s a pretty good set-up.

You’re waiting for time to pass in the garden, just reading a rather interesting book that Charles had recommended after he noticed you needed something to pass time before you started making bad decisions.

You hear his heavy footsteps on the gravel before you see him. Your heart beats faster, but you will yourself, do everything in your power not to glance up at him. And you let out a breath as you succeed, keeping your head down.

“In your natural habitat, are you, spitfire?” Your head darts up to him—There’s no way he isn’t talking to you, you know you’re the only one in this garden. And you can see his lips twitch up and you want to crawl out of your skin!

“My-My natural habitat?” You laugh, closing the book you’re reading because your attention is locked to him now.

“Yeah, seems like it.” He saunters on up to you and sits on the bench next to you.

And let’s make something very clear—

Logan Howlett does not sit.

This man poses, as if there’s always some invisible camera capturing every frame of movement, from the way his legs spread out, to the way his chest lifts when he inhales.

Fuck, you think you might die if you can’t suck him off right now.

“And what exactly is my uh.. habitat?” You question.

He takes out his lighter and a cigar, placing the cigar in his mouth as he gestures to the space around the two of you, lighter in hand.

“A garden.” He says, matter of facility, as his voice is muffled only the slightest bit by the cigar.

And you just sort of look at him before asking,

“Oh, you enjoy being boiled down to your mutations, Claws?” You question, and as he goes to light the cigar, he smirks.

“Alright, you gotta admit though, it is cliché!”

You are absolutely in agreement, there is zero doubt you are as much of a walking, breathing, real life living, stereotype.

“It is not!” And the pair of you give each other this look, like you’re both shocked at how whiney that statement is!

“Uh-huh, sure, Spitfire.” It sounds almost like he’s purring at you.

When he lights his cigar, he’s sort of eying you for your reaction, whatever you might say.

“You know, smoking is not only bad for you, it’s awful for the environment.”

“You’re probably the most cliché little freak around here.” Which.. honestly..? Shouldn’t possibly turn you on as much as it does.

You just stare at him for a minute, and he smirks.

“Cat got your tongue?’

And maybe it’s stupid and maybe it’s immature but your hand just comes over to fiddle with the pointed part of his hair.

“We’ll you certainly look the part.” He just looks at you, and honestly? The way he’s looking at you, it’s like he’s proud of you for teasing him.

“Aw, there’s my little spitfire,” He teases, just to see how red you get. And red you are— it’s embarrassing. And here’s the kicker—You are young. Exceptionally young, and what’s insane about that? How horny it makes both you and Logan.

The idea of fucking your innocent cunt, tight and all his, drives him genuinely mad. And you are, quite literally, a whore for the idea of riding this older man’s dick. You know he’s big—sometimes you see the outerline of it when he walks away from you all huffy and puffy.

“You’re a tease, Claws.” You respond, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Says you,” he raises and eyebrow, leaning closer to you now, “You’re the one laying around in the sun, looking like that.”

“Looking like this?” You scoff. You’re wearing a muscle tee and a pair of ripped jeans, but the gaps are huge and he can see your thighs. He wants to devour you, and you would let him if he only asked.

And let’s be clear—he is fucking you with his eyes. There’s no way to go around it.

“I think you’re just.. horny.” You tease, and he just growls. Seriously, this man who is undressing you with his eyes, growls, because he does want you and he is horny!

“I think you’re onto something.” He purrs, and you want to just.. god. You don’t know how to express the pit of desire that grows in you. “I would fuck you until you couldn’t think, right here among your pretty flowers. Would you like that, baby?” he asks, his hand finding your thigh.

But you just cough on the smoke from his cigar, before frowning.

“You really shouldn’t smoke.”

"Aw, I'll make it up to you," he smirks, "Promise, spitfire."

[literaila]

cuddle time

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: satoru's mood is disrupted by some quality family time

a/n: a little fluff for you all because i've been trolling too much

last part | next part

*

year four.

you're working on a report from a mission last week when the two of them appear, simply out of thin air. 

it's early sunday morning, light shining through the windows, the world beckoning you outside--even though you know you need to be in here, working. honestly, you shouldn't have put it off for this long. 

but it's so easy in this house. with satoru lounging around, and both of the children to entertain you all of the time. honestly, if you never checked your phone again, you might forget that the rest of your world existed completely. 

it's nice. easy. 

but not this morning. this morning, just walking into the office felt like surging through a tub full of mud, disgusting and slow. 

and you feel that way now when the kids show up. 

they both peek their heads into the office, the door slightly cracked, and you don't dare look at the two of them--knowing that they'll distract you (and that you would very much like to be distracted, at the moment). 

tsumiki creeps into the room, and you can feel her smile at you from ten feet away. her general aura of benevolence and good. she radiates happiness, your secret drug. megumi follows, not as bright but still pleasant enough, accidentally bumping into the desk, but you still don't look at either of them. 

you can see them in your peripheral, though. you can't imagine what they need at the moment. 

but neither of them says a thing, they simply stare at you, standing on opposite sides of the desk, their eyes darting from the computer screen to you with an obvious frequency. 

you don't know what they want, but you've known the two of them long enough to know that it's something. 

you still don't look at them, but you can't help the smile on your face. 

“yes, children?" you ask, teasing, after a minute of this has ensued. when you just can't hold it in anymore. "am i bothering you?”  

tsumiki leans her head on your shoulder, her face amazingly warm, frowning. “gojo won’t get out of bed.” 

megumi is just standing there, still staring at you, with his arms crossed. clearly, this is a dire statement, and they all need your immediate attention. clearly, your presence is impertinent.

you check the clock. it’s only ten in the morning, and god knows with the children, that is not late. they both wake up with the sun, ready to start the day before you get the chance to blink.

you were up two hours ago, helping megumi get breakfast together, making sure that they both slept well and that no one broke into the house in the middle of the night and stole them. breakfast was a bleary-eyed, silent sort of thing. the three of you basking in each other's company, and not attention.

but you don't really mind waking up that early. because, unlike satoru, your fragile mind doesn't pause for a good night's rest. these days, you'll get a few hours at a time, at the best. a couple of minutes to yourself, at the worst. 

caffeine is a wonderful thing.

so you don't blame the man for hiding in his room all morning. besides, he is the worst when he misses out on his precious beauty sleep.

“we all agreed,” you say, knowingly, resuming your typing. “satoru can sleep in as long as he’d like on sundays.” 

“he’s not sleeping.” 

megumi nods. “yeah, he’s just moaning in bed.” 

you quirk a brow. “is he sick?” 

“no, just a baby,” megumi answers. he says this with such an obvious attitude that you almost snort. where he got the sass, you're not sure. 

(you're sure. it's your fault.) 

knowing he has no good information for you, you turn around to tsumiki. “what’d he say?” 

“that he wasn’t getting out of bed. ever.” 

you roll your eyes, familiar with this act. “just give him a couple of hours. he’s probably pms-ing.”

they both give you confused looks. you make a mental note to pick up parenting books at the library.

“he’s fine, guys," you say, instead of explaining. "just dramatic.” 

tsumiki shakes her head. “something’s wrong with him.” 

“could’ve told you that,” megumi mutters, under his breath, and you attempt not to laugh. and fail. 

you grin at him, nudging tsumiki's cheek, a bit fond of her concern. her sincerity. “just let him sleep.” 

tsumiki leans on your arm, still pouting—you should’ve kicked satoru out three years ago. he’s rubbing off on her. “but he's sad." 

"sad?" 

"i think he's crying." 

megumi snorts. 

you blink at her. "are you serious?" 

she nods, sullenly. 

you sigh, looking back to the computer--where work and every terrible thing in the world (besides satoru) awaits you. you could sit here for the next four hours, doing stuff you should've done weeks ago, or you could deal with an emotional toddler. 

there's really no winning here. 

you sigh again and look back to tsumiki. her face is enough to break your composure completely. "fine," you say, "let's go see what's wrong with him." 

tsumiki smiles at you, grateful, and megumi rolls his eyes but begins to trail out of the office. you shut your laptop, knowing that you won't be back for a while. 

(or the rest of the day, if you have it your way). 

the two of them follow you to satoru's room, where you don't knock--because the door is already partially open, and because you don't care. 

the blinds are still shut, the entire room a stomping ground for candy wrappers and files that satoru definitely shouldn't leave lying around. 

but this is nothing new, so you ignore it. 

"hey, kid," you say, stepping over to the bed, leaning down to look at him. 

or, rather, an expanse of grey sheets. all you can see is a lump of covers, and a pillow thrown on the floor. satoru sleeps like someone's trying to hold him down, failing all the while.

you nudge him with a hand, sighing again. you got lucky with tsumiki and megumi, who are notoriously easy to wake up in the morning, unlike someone else in the house...

there's no response. 

fortunately, you can see a puff of breath from beneath his blanket, so at least he's not dead. 

there's a tuff of white hair peeking out from the sheets, and you pull it, albeit gently. because you actually do really love his hair. 

(it's irritatingly soft). 

"i already know you're awake," you tell him, dryly. "are you crying? tsumiki said you were crying." 

the covers are quick to move, two large hands pulling them down with surprising efficiency, and a red-eyed--though not teary--satoru glares at you. "i'm not crying." 

"oh, great, then i don't have to comfort you. i don't think i have it in me today." 

he pouts, naturally, and throws the covers back over his face. at least this is no different. 

you turn around, looking at both of the children helplessly. see, you want to say to them, he's fine. but tsumiki waves you forward and megumi's got a little quirk in his lip, which is answer enough.

you nudge satoru again. 

"c'mon, you're scaring the kids." 

"they weren't scared when they poked me awake and tried to steal my socks." 

you turn back with raised eyebrows. tsumiki looks away guilty, and megumi's smile widens. but your eyes gleam, because satoru deserves at least that. and because all of them are terribly amusing. 

you roll your eyes when you turn around and there's a single blue eye looking into yours. "well, you're scaring them now. and obviously," you answer. "socks are criminal in bed." 

satoru tries to pinch you from under the covers, and you smack his hand away. "leave me to die," he says. 

"they're quivering, satoru," you say, trying not to laugh. "do you want them to cry? because they will. it's probably the bedhead. or maybe the morning breath. seriously, do you make out with your pillows when you sleep?" 

the covers move once again, and satoru's glare is vicious. "i do not have bedhead. or morning breath." 

"yeah, yeah, you're perfect." you pull the covers back down, even when he tries to initiate a brutal tug-of-war match, which you win, obviously. "grandpa, come on, it's almost ten-thirty." 

"i thought we made a rule that none of you can wake me up in the morning." 

"the rule was that we let you sleep in on sundays. and you're already awake. the kids want breakfast." 

"i know they already ate," satoru's eyes are blinding, "tsumiki told me." 

"well, i want to eat. get up." 

"go cook." 

"get up." 

"can't you see that i need to rest?" he gestures to his face, which looks typical and annoyed. "don't i look sick?" 

you pinch his arm. "i recall someone saying that they were impenetrable, and trivial illnesses wouldn't affect them." 

"i was wrong." 

"as usual," you give him a sweet smile. 

tsumiki and megumi have both crept up on the two of you, watching as you poke his cheek, trying to get a rise out of him. 

it's really not your fault that he looks cute with his hair smushed against his face, slightly sweaty. 

you always have preferred a disheveled satoru. when he's forgotten to put all of the pieces together. 

actually, grumpy, just-awake satoru might be your favorite. your teenage self certainly had a fondness for him. 

though you choose to believe that your tastes in men have since improved (they haven't, nor have they changed). 

"i just wanna sleep," he whines. "please?" 

"no. get up, because i don't want to hear your moaning while i'm trying to work." 

"you can't hear it from the office," satoru hisses, "and it's sunday. go take a nap." 

"i'll be sure to do that, right after i shove a toothbrush in your mouth." 

"go away," he moans, childishly, and turns on his side. "i feel like someone cut me in half. am i bleeding through the sheets? i don't think my organs are intact." 

you make a face. "that's disgusting. please don't talk about your organs in public. i thought this was a safe space." 

satoru huffs, but doesn't say anything back. 

"aww," you coo, while tsumiki climbs up the other side of the bed, putting her face right next to his. megumi lingers at your side. "is our baby sick?" 

"yes." 

"what does a sick baby need, guys? i don't remember." 

"a lobotomy," megumi whispers. 

you turn to him, eyes wide. "who taught you--actually. i already know," you look pointedly back to satoru, who's frowning. 

"i shared those thoughts with you in confidence," satoru hisses to megumi, and covers his face with a pillow this time. 

"cuddles, right? that's what you do when we're sick." 

you smile at tsumiki. "what a wonderful idea, miki. cuddles are exactly what baby needs." 

and so, with the grace of a thousand kangaroos, you jump on satoru, your body molding to his as you come face to face with the man, legs over his side, arm wrapping around his neck. 

satoru is very close, close enough that you almost can't tell that he's glaring at you. 

he's pretty like this, with gleaming skin and dull eyes. 

"was that supposed to hurt? because it didn't." 

it doesn't escape your notice that you can finger his cheekbones while he says this, no space between the two of you, and neither does the slight twitch of his lips. oh, yeah, you know satoru like this. with his attitudes and his lies. 

and you know, really, that this is exactly what he wants. attention, as per usual.  

"oh, good." you tug at his hair a bit with your other hand. "we've still got room. come on, children, we have to help our baby." 

tsumiki giggles, and she joins you, her face on your back as she lays on top of the two of you, barely a leaf in the pile. you can feel her smile against your muscles and you sigh out. "i think it's working." 

you tilt your head to look at megumi, who's staring at the three of you with a look of distaste on his face. "c'mon, megs. we need you." 

he gives you a 'really?' look, to which you respond with a nose scrunch, but eventually, he sighs. and then he promptly sits on satoru's feet, setting a hand on your legs so you know that he's there. 

"how are you feeling now, baby?" 

"smushed." 

"good. exactly how we like you." you nuzzle into his neck, breathing him in. he actually smells quite nice--and not that you'll admit it, but he doesn't have morning breath, the bastard. 

"are you sad?" tsumiki asks, softly, still concerned, but brighter now. she likes this almost as much as satoru. 

"yes," he huffs, again. 

but you all know he's lying, and when you dig your finger into his side, tickling him, the kids are quick to follow. 

work will have to wait. this is much more important. 

*

next part | series masterlist

[castillon02]

Tim reviews Jason's operations management and makes a suggestion.

"Your first move: hire a head of sanitation," Tim said.

"You think a janitor's gonna solve my suddenly-successful-startup problems? What, by sweeping them away?" Jason rolled his eyes.

Tim steepled his fingers. “The good news,” he said, “is that your drug distribution and community norms enforcement hierarchy is very clear. You also have people doing marketing, program management, HR, facilities, and admin. Your system of rotating duties when people get injured isn’t bad—people generally benefit from cross-training—but you should formalize the top positions and compensate your new leadership team. Including sanitation.” 

“Sure, sure, I'll just tell one of my guys their job is to be head shit-scrubber instead of a badass neighborhood protector!" Jason threw up his hands.

Tim raised his eyebrows.

“It’s bad enough getting them to clean up a crime scene when they’re on my literal shit list! A couple of them thought that lighting the building on fire was an easier way to get it to stop smelling bad and having DNA. Guess who had to add five new slides to his powerpoint about evidence disposal?" Jason glared.

Tim grimaced. "I had an intern in the office who thought that he could just throw trash off his desk for the cleaning staff to pick up."

He and Jason shared a commiserating look that silently said, We were both stupid enough to work with the League of Assassins, and even we wouldn't do that.

“Anyway," Tim continued, "since you're dealing with...that...you can just hire an outside party. Lots of people in Gotham know how to clean up dead bodies and keep their mouths shut. I can advertise the position and send you the likeliest candidates for an interview. I’ll have to incorporate you, of course, but I’ve had the paperwork ready since I got back from the Middle East.” 

“Incorporate me?” 

“Red Hood LLC, technically."

Jason's breathing became calculatedly even.

"Once you’re legit in the eyes of the law, we can work on squaring away everyone’s taxes and keep you from getting Capone’d.” 

“I’m as legit as one of Two-Face’s two-dollar bills!” 

“Yeah, but when you’re an LLC, all your crimes are white-collar crimes, and no one cares about those.” Tim shrugged.

“...Pretty sure that’s not how that works, bud.” 

“It’s how the court of public opinion works. And if anyone tries to say that Red Hood, CEO of Red Hood LLC, and Red Hood, notorious vigilante, are the same person? Tell them to prove it. So what if you have the same outfit? It’s a free country and people can wear what they want. And if they ever get your DNA results, Oracle says no they didn't.”

Jason tilted his head and started smiling. "You want Red Hood to be the Scarlet Pimpernel and Percy Blakeney. At the same time."

"The more blatant you are about it, the better. Rub elbows with Gotham's elite and tell them that you can't imagine why someone would let a Crime Alley vigilante ruin their ability to wear a red hood as a fashion statement, but in your company, people have spines. Especially when they're job creators. If you play your cards right, red headgear will be back in fashion."

"And then?"

"And then," Tim's eyes gleamed, "you start selling merch."

"Oh, shit." Jason's smile turned into a full-on smirk.

"On a sliding scale, of course."

"Those nepo babies are gonna pay me so much money to look cool."

Tim smiled. "And that's how hiring a head shit-scrubber is going to mitigate your high growth and cash flow problems."

[bitter-me]

Golden Hour

Jing Yuan | M. Reader

----------

Reincarnation AU

----------

There's a particular painting inside the Luofu Museum. It's a painting of the former General, they say that the General never smiles and always has a blank expression. That painting is the most precious and one of a kind in the whole world...

Why?

Because it's the only time...

Where the General finally smiles...

----------

"Huh... "Wise and Brave; Jing Yuan." Hey, wouldn't it be funny if he's actually you from the past?"

"Nonsense, we just have the same name."

[Name] turn his head towards the white haired man with a raised eyebrow. "Yeah.. Sure.. But you do have the same smile as him." He said as he look back at the painting in front of them.

The General in the painting looks almost identical to the man standing beside him  down to the same smile. Then again, [Name] couldn't imagine Jing Yuan being all stoic like, a smile fits him better. "You know... They say that the General had fallen in love with the Strategist in the Xianzhou, some even say that the Strategist was the reason why he started smiling."

"Really?"

"It's just a myth though, don't know if it's true."

Jing Yuan chuckles at that statement, after all myths are just myths, there's no telling if it's real or not. It's probably fake, people usually make up things just to satisfy their own fantasies, but something in him tells him otherwise.

That maybe, just maybe... It's the truth.

.

.

.

.

.

"ARE YOU INSANE?!"

"It's the most optimal solution, General."

"BY SACRIFICING MY MEN!?"

"Losing a handful of soldiers are better than losing civilians, plus—isn't it their duty to give their live for the people and die in battle?"

"HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT WITH SUCH A CALM VOICE?!" The General huffs as he glared daggers at the man in front of him, the man who proposed the very strategy that practically sacrifices his men "for the greater good." Jing Yuan always wonder how this man is able to be the Strategist of the Xianzhou...

A man who stood to benefit from betraying others... It's not proven or anything and yet...

Jing Yuan is certain that he'd turn against the Reignbow Arbiter in a heartbeat...

There's isn't a sane bone in his body.

The other man sigh at Jing Yuan's response as he crosses his arms and spoke up with his usual calm yet firm voice. "And here I thought you'd be more reasonable, given that you're the General."

"The leader of an organization is at the pinnacle of it and, at the same time, he is its slave. The leader must be more than willing to commit any atrocity in order to ensure the organisation's survival."

He hates it.... He hates this man so much...

How could he talk about that so casually? As if these men... Were just mere pawns to him... After all sacrificing a few pawns means relatively little if it means your King's safety.

'He's not thinking about the people.. He's thinking about the Xianzhou Loufu's survival instead...'

"They were right about you... You're a wolf in sheep's clothing..." He started as he continues to glare daggers at the man. The man only gave him an unamused look as he asked in a calm voice. "And why would you think that?" Jing Yuan scoffed at the question as he crosses his arms. "Talking to you is impossible."

"But in all honesty, give my strategy some thought, General."

"There's nothing left to think regarding that. I want you to change it this instant."

The man sigh at the order he was given, he uncrossed his arms and took back the papers from the General's desk. "As you wish."

And with that... The man left his office.

Jing Yuan sigh as he put a hand on his forehead and look down at his wooden desk. "I can't believe that man... [Name] was it..?" He mumbled under his breath.

'It's as if a life meant relatively little to him.'

.

.

.

.

.

"I never knew you could be a skilled doctor.."

"I was the Head Physician before becoming your strategist, General."

"..."

The two fall silent as [Name] bandaged the general's wounds. It seems even the "Mighty General of the Loufu" can get hurt. How fascinating. Once he's done, [Name] lets out a sigh and puts back the supplies he had used. "I suggest you shouldn't go to any missions at the moment. Let your wounds heal."

Jing Yuan remains silent as he inspects his carefully treated wounds. The bandages aren't too tight, and his body isn't as sore anymore. [Name] might be a sociopath with the types of strategies he comes up with. But he's a wonderful physician. Maybe he should stay as one.

"Can't have you start bleeding out in the middle of a fight after all. Unless you wanted me to operate on you then go ahead."

Jing Yuan can't help but sigh at those words. Of course the doctor has to open his mouth and end it on that note... even if he's good, [Name]'s still a sociopath though..

"...Understood."

"Good."

.

.

.

.

.

The crowd was silent as they watched the starskiff flies to through the sky. Reaching greater heights. "Another sent of.." The doctor mumbled under his breath.

"Sad, isn't it?"

"Not really."

Oh you sociopath! Jing Yuan snapped his head towards him. He was about to argue until he saw a soft smile on the doctor's face. A soft. Melancholy. Smile.

"It's not sad. It's poetic." [Name] says softly as he watches the starskiff. "In a way, if you're at a loss, you could look up at the sky and.... remember that they're watching over you.. and there's nothing to be afraid of.." Turning his head towards the general, [Name] gave him a closed eye smile as his hair got caught in the wind. "It's almost romantic, is it not?"

Jing Yuan felt a strange and warm feeling on his chest. Without thinking, he returns the smile with his own. "If you put it that way.. it is kinda poetic.."

----------

"Well... I heard that the Strategist is far more worse than the General." Jing Yuan spoke up, making [Name] turn his head to look at him with a raised eyebrow. "Really?" He asked as he crosses his arms, waiting for am explanation. "Yup, they say that the Strategist is a sociopath. I've also heard that the General was the reason the Strategist began to have a "heart". " Jing Yuan concluded with a smirk on his face.

[Name] can't help but chuckle at those words. For some reason.. he had a feeling it was true..

[wttcsms]

if you feel like falling (catch me on the way down) | ONE

ᝰ.ᐟ after getting your heart broken by professional soccer player, rin itoshi, all because he loved the game more than you, you officially swear off all men — especially athletes. your publicist doesn't get that memo, though, and you find yourself roped into a fake relationship with yoichi isagi, who isn't just a pro soccer player, but also your ex's rival. things could get messy. ( fem!reader )

pairing yoichi isagi x reader (endgame), past! rin itoshi x reader word count 2.9k chapter synopsis there are certain perks to having a relationship that operates on a "private not secret" basis. for example, you're allowed at least two weeks before the batshit crazy people online figure out that little miss it girl just got her ass dumped. chapter contains partying to cope, social drinking, diet culture, this fic is so chronically online LOL author's notes so normally, i would organize the fic's different arcs or acts by explicitly saying "act 1" or whatever. like i said, we're gonna be chronically online, so the arcs are described as different "eras" and when it's a new arc, we'll get a new era 🤭 each era has special graphics for it: what the media sees vs what's actually going on. think of the era intro as a moodboard for the chapters that'll follow <3

⋆˚࿔ CURRENT ERA: PARTY GIRL 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ from the outside, it's giving irl serena van der woodsen but even better, no one can possibly have the same 24 hours as you, someone needs to convince you to drop the skincare routine STAT, matter of fact - we just need your whole game card

— guest starred on the hottest pop culture podcast where it was basically just a glaze session for you (besides the last 10 minutes where the host started asking about rin), articles that want to help readers live your (unattainable if you're not rich!) lifestyle, and a devoted fanpage that updates your every move... every move.

on the inside, it's actually giving listening and actually relating to sad music, asking an 8 ball if you're the problem, being desperate enough to believe those tiktoks that say if you claim this sound and interact 3x he'll text you back, wondering when you should mail him back his stuff, keeping busy in the public eye so no one suspects how miserable you are right now

— even spotify clocked you and it's auto-generated, customized playlist perfectly depicts what you're going through (talk about the saddest soundtrack to your life), got desperate and consulted quora (this is how you know you're at rockbottom). not shown: your credit card statement (retail therapy works, right? right?!)

“Promise you’ll be on your best behavior?” Yukimiya peers over his sunglasses so he can give you a very pointed look. You tilt your head innocently.

“When am I ever not?” 

Yukimiya lets out a very loud, very drawn out, very exasperated sigh. When have you not been on your best behavior? Well, just last month, you got drunk, stumbled out to your garage, hopped in your custom-wrapped pink Porsche, and somehow ended up falling asleep on top of the hood. (In your defense, at least even in a drunken stupor, you weren’t stupid enough to drive.) Last week, you collected the numbers of about eight different athletes and models, sufficiently led every single one of them on, and are now actively ghosting all of them because they committed the cardinal sin of not sounding like, feeling like, or being anything like Rin. And speaking of the devil, Rin’s the reason why just last night, you ended up blocking not just him from your social media, but his whole entire team, too. You felt vindicated when you did this at 2 AM. Yeah, because that’ll sure show him! He hasn’t looked at your story once since the breakup (not that you’ve been keeping track or anything), but in case he tries to play it cool and gets one of his teammates to view it on his behalf, you’ll have put a stop to that plan. 

(Even when you’re spiraling, you’re still painfully aware of the fact that Rin’s most likely doing okay, if not still performing at his best. He is most certainly not doing something as childish as getting his teammates to relay info on you to him. Meanwhile, you are apparently a social liability for your closest friends. Spectacular.) 

“Don’t answer that.” You tell him. “I don’t want to know what my life looks like through your eyes.” It’s bad enough that every little thing you do gets documented, photographed, and then sensationalized on the Internet, but it’s one thing for strangers to commentate on your behavior when they don’t even have the full story. It’s another thing entirely when it’s your best friend criticizing your current lifestyle. 

“I’m just saying, it’s going to be a very casual lunch with my favorite people. Not a party.” Yukimiya clarifies. 

“Kenyu, you do realize that inviting me to a birthday party, and then saying ‘it’s not a party’ is kind of giving mixed signals right now.” Now it’s your turn to give him a pointed look, but just like his, there’s no true venom behind it. It’s Kenyu’s birthday celebration, anyway. You’re not about to corrupt Mr. Catholic Private School and tell him to throw a fucking rager. 

“If my team gets their way, there probably will be an actual party. If there is, you’ll be the first one I give the details to.” There’s a distant shout in the back; the photographer is done with his lunch, and he’s ready to wrap this shoot up. Kenyu examines his hair in the vanity mirror before getting out of his chair and giving you a quick hug. Your photos have already been taken, and there’s really no point for you to be on set still. 

However, Kenyu’s on set. Your only other viable option is to just go home and hide under your covers, rewatching Someone Great on Netflix and Doordashing Ben & Jerry’s. Juliette is home in France and won’t be coming back until the end of the month, and you’re not really in the mood to see any of your other friends. It’s tiring being around people who can’t separate front-cover-of-Vogue you from the real you. If you’re going to have to fake a smile, it might as well be on set rather than grabbing brunch with people who would kill to be able to leak something as headline-inducing as your breakup. 

“Pinky promise?” You look up at Yukimiya. “You promise to tell me about the party even if I’ll make a fool of myself because apparently I don’t act on my best behavior?” 

He rolls his eyes at your comment. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, and you know that. Besides, you could never make a fool of yourself. Anything you do is declared iconic, anyway.”

Having a famous movie director as a father and a certified Hollywood starlet as a mother, life wasn’t just set at easy mode for you. You practically were given an unlimited money hack and started off with like, five times the XP compared to any other beginner. At thirteen, you told your parents that for your birthday, you wanted to become a model. Two phone calls and a private jet flight later, and you had signed with the best modeling agency in the country and had your first ever photoshoot booked. 

Fate gave you parents with connections, and you’d be a fool to not use it to your advantage. Fate also gave you the same photoshoot as another young model, and you’d be a fool to not befriend Kenyu Yukimiya immediately. Out of all the friends you’ve ever made, fate only gives you good luck twice: first with Yuki, then with Juliette. You used to think you got lucky three times — meeting Rin for the first time was like experiencing something cosmic. Now you know better. Even rich people can have shit luck, too. 

Today’s unlucky situation is the way Yukimiya’s “favorite people” all happen to be athletes. There’s not a single person here who isn’t his teammate or somehow related to Bastard Munchen, except for you. If you didn’t love Yukimiya so much, you would have hauled ass. It’s normally easy enough for you to avoid soccer players at parties because they don’t normally get invited to the same social events you do, but now you’re the odd one out. 

At least the food is good. You don’t have a photoshoot scheduled until next week, and that’s exactly why you’re comfortable with choking down half a bagel sandwich rather than socialize with the guys seated by you. Yukimiya’s real big on intimacy and the power of friendship or whatever, which is probably easier to achieve when you play a team sport versus the modeling industry, where good jobs are few and far between, and the reason why some models are so skinny is because they can’t afford to eat — literally and figuratively. If they’re not booking jobs, there’s no way they can buy groceries in this economy. 

He has everyone assembled at one long table in the massive backyard of his mansion. It’s honestly kind of Last Supper-core, but it fits him. Little Yuki’s finally old enough to have a seat at the big kid’s table. He’s sitting across from you, and you’re sandwiched between Kunigami and Hiori. Next to Yukimiya is Isagi. Out of everyone at this party, soccer player or not, Isagi is the person you want to avoid the most. So far, you think you’ve managed to skirt under his radar. If everything goes as planned, you’ll be able to leave this lunch with your belly full and not having to interact with anybody. It’s looking like you won’t even have to drink in order to get through this. 

“Hey, out of all of us at this table, who d’ya think would have the best shot at being a model?” Hiori is clearly speaking to you. The blue-haired player is looking directly at you, for God’s sake. You wonder if it’ll be mean to blatantly ignore him, but considering how this little question seems to have captured the attention of the surrounding players, it looks like pretending you’re hard of hearing is out of the question. 

Inside, you’re dying. The last thing you wanted to do was socialize, but it’d be selfish and bratty to request that Yukimiya find more time in his busy schedule to have a one-on-one celebration with you. You’re here to support your friend. You can stomach being friendly with boys who have probably seen Rin more recently than you’ve last seen him. Fuck — why are you thinking about Rin? Do not think about Rin!

You grab one of the premade mimosas from the tray in the center of the table. You down the glass in one swift gulp. On the outside, you flash Hiori a bright smile and give an airy giggle. “Why? You trying to get a foot into the industry?” 

Hiori’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink. “W-well, no. Just wanted to make conversation.” 

���No worries! I’ve been trying to keep up with whatever you guys are talking about, but even after all this time being friends with Kenyu, I still don’t really get soccer.” Your smile is still intact. You reach for another mimosa. 

“Rin didn’t teach you anything?” 

Ever since you entered the industry, you knew that you had to get comfortable with standing out. No — you needed to thrive on standing out. You needed to crave, to rely on, people’s undying attention in order to survive. In the eyes of the media, you’re the center of attention. You got what every girl your age wants. At this table, everyone’s eyes are focused on you. What you want is to be back in your room, away from their prying gazes and curious stares.

But you’re a trained professional. Your smile never slides off, never turns into a grimace. You give a casual shrug, directing your answer to the person who mentioned Rin in the first place. 

“I make it a rule to not discuss work when we’re together.” You look at Isagi, asking him with your eyes if that’s a good enough explanation for him. He holds your gaze, looking at you like he sees right through you.

You drink another mimosa. 

After loosening up because of the drinks, you find casual conversation with the Munchen players to be easy. The boys honestly never shut up, and you don’t know what they’re talking about half the time, but you’re cracking genuine smiles every so often, and by the time Yukimiya is going around and saying his thanks for everyone showing up, you are…

Not drunk, per se. You’ve built up quite the tolerance these past few weeks, and it’s hard to get wasted off of drinks that are basically three-fourths orange juice. (Seriously, was Yukimiya getting stingy with the champagne? Sober You might be able to acknowledge the fact that Yukimiya might have just been preparing for the Worst Case Scenario, which would be you hogging all the drinks to yourself. Which sort of happened. Fuck. Sometimes it sucks to be known so well.) You’re definitely tipsy, though. Maybe half a tier above tipsy? Whatever the case, you are definitely in no shape to drive. 

“Kenny,” you whine out his nickname, trying your best to pull out your puppy-dog eyes. “Please take me home.” 

“Ah, damnnit, [Name].” He runs his fingers through his dark curls. “Did you seriously get drunk off of orange juice?” 

“Champagne drunk is the best drunk. I’m pretty sure People Magazine quoted me on that like, last year, so it’s basically fact.” Yukimiya doesn’t seem overly impressed. “And I’m not drunk, but my alcohol levels right now are definitely above the legal limit. Sorry, but I don’t plan on making headlines for a DUI. Hard to spin that into something iconic.” 

This gets Yukimiya to crack a smile. “I thought you were leaning into the party girl look?” 

“Yeah, but after Justin Timberlake got caught for intoxicated driving, he made it look totally lame. He ruined it for us!” 

“I wish I could drive you back, but I have to retake some photos for this sneaker ad I’m doing, and with traffic, I’m really cutting it close already. Do you want to just come with, or hang out at my place until I get back? You should’ve said something sooner; I could’ve asked one of the guys to drop you off.”

You crinkle your nose. “No, thanks. I’m not a fan of strangers knowing where I live.” Becoming a model at such a young age thrust you into the spotlight. With media attention comes total pervs who lurk in Reddit threads and 4Chan, and stumbling upon some of the things said about you, reading the things they would do to you if they found you, all laid out in disgusting, graphic detail, left you kind of paranoid. Getting doxxed might be one of your worst fears. No Ubers. No car ride homes with strangers. “I’ll wait here. It’s been a while since I went through your things, so I’m sure there’ll be enough of your dirty secrets to uncover to keep me occupied.” 

“Did you need a ride?” 

Shitty luck, indeed. 

The teammate who decided to stay behind to help clean up (because he’s just that outstanding of a guy) is the sole reason for why you went buckwild on the mimosas. You can see why Rin was always frustrated with him.

“Nope—” You say, at the same exact time as Yukimiya nods enthusiastically. 

“Would you mind? [Name] actually lives pretty close by, so it might not be out of the way.” 

You shoot Yukimiya a scathing glare. He ignores it completely, smiling at Isagi. 

“I don’t mind. That is, if you don’t mind.” Isagi is looking at you expectantly. Yukimiya trusts him. And you trust Yukimiya. By some sort of logic, you should reasonably be able to trust Isagi. It’s clear that Kenyu wants you to carpool with him, anyway, otherwise he wouldn’t have been so happy to dump you onto him. 

“Sure. I’m ready to go whenever you are.” 

What would happen if you jumped out of a moving vehicle? 

At best, you’d get your pretty skin all scraped up, meaning your photoshoots would either have to be delayed, or you would have to endure all the clear distaste for your “unprofessionalism” in the workplace from the people who actually had to work to get to where they’re at. At worst, you end up hospitalized. Somehow, it seems easier to photoshop out a few cuts and scrapes than working with someone in a full-body cast.

As you weigh the pros and cons of jumping out of Yoichi Isagi’s vehicle — a sleek, black sedan that’s top of the line, sure, but understated luxury; it’s not flashy like the sports cars you see most athletes sporting — he smoothly reverses out of Yukimiya’s driveway. Isagi does that boyish thing where he ignores his backup camera completely and opts to rest one hand on the back of the passenger headrest, the other hand on the steering wheel. Fuck. Maybe it’s not a boyish thing. Maybe it’s manly. Isagi leans a bit into your space; not enough to bother you, but enough to where you can smell the scent of his cologne. He smells clean and fresh. Maybe it’s not cologne, but laundry detergent and fabric softener. Somehow, you find this very fitting of him. 

He glances out the window to check for traffic and eases you two onto the open road. 

He’s not playing any music, and you’re sure as hell not about to ask for the aux. You look out the window instead, watching the world pass you by through tinted glass. It makes everything around you appear darker. Somehow, you find this to be very fitting for you.

“You live around this area, yeah?” Isagi asks you, and you’re reminded that if you want to go home, you actually have to let the driver know where home is. 

“Yeah, sorry. Keep heading straight, and I’ll let you know when there’s a turn coming up.” Talking to Isagi shouldn’t feel so awkward. After all, you managed to talk (and actually enjoy talking) to all of Yukimiya’s teammates. You even got along well with Kaiser. But it just feels weird — you’ve never met him directly, but you’ve heard so much about him, that it’s hard to not see Rin’s rants every time you look at Isagi. 

So you don’t — look at Isagi, that is. You look at everything else. His car is clean. There are air fresheners in the AC vents. The floor of the passenger seat is oddly clean, like no one ever sits here. If that’s the case, you hope your heels didn’t track in any grass blades or dirt. 

“Um,” Isagi awkwardly clears his throat at a red light. “When I mentioned Rin earlier at the party…” 

“What about it?” Fuck, this is so embarrassing. Since the car is stationary, you’re in the clear, right? If you just unlock the door, you can escape on foot. Your house is now close enough that it’ll just count as today’s exercise. 

“Sorry for bringing him up. I didn’t know—”

“—didn’t know what?” You turn to face him. His jaw is surprisingly sharp, and you watch the way he swallows before he answers you. 

“I didn’t know that you two broke up.” 

No one knows that you two broke up. You’re still in the process of making sense of it all, and because you’re so messed up over it, naturally you had to confide in Yukimiya and Juliette. Neither of them would ever share that secret, though. 

So why the hell does Yoichi Isagi know?

“The light’s green.” You tell him, shifting your body in the seat, avoiding him by positioning yourself even closer to the door. 

Neither of you say anything else during the drive.

[twiishaa]

yuji x reader ; wc 1.21k warnings okay so the random lines in italics are your thoughts okay ... characters are VERY ooc i fear i just wanted to write something like cute n cafe ... my terrible writing makes a comeback ヽ(o＾▽＾o)ノ

it was within the final hours of you shift, and as closing time was in sight the café was getting increasingly empty; the work rush was over and the sun had just begun to set. you took the free time to wipe down the tables and just as you got back to your counter you heard the bell ring. a group of teenagers walked through the door, obviously enticed by the scent coming from outside.

oh, the one with pink hair’s pretty cute… you thought to yourself.

they were all joking between themselves, quickly filling up the silence in the café with their silly jokes. there were three of them— a girl, with a light brown bob and what you thought had to be the classiest tote bag you'd seen, and two guys: one tall, with black, spiky hair and a face that lacked emotion of any sort, and the one you spotted before, slightly shorter than the dark-haired, with a muted pink shade of hair. he was the one talking the most- and the loudest- between the three of them, while the girl was answering him and the other one just adding a few sentences here and there. you put your customer service smile on and welcomed them in.

“what can I get you guys?” you asked them while getting the tablet ready to process their orders.

the girl subtly nudged the pink haired boy and whispered something which caused him to blush and nudge her back, but harder. she giggled at his response.

oh, he’s cute…

“uh, could we get a flat white, a…” the girl started. she looked at the sonic the hedgehog-haired guy behind her.

“an iced americano, please,” he said. dang. he speaks. the girl looked at the pink haired one now, signalling him to order.

“and ill have uhhh…” he looked at the menu above your head, when you noticed he had the prettiest chestnut brown eyes you’d seen, and a matching scar, or something, underneath each of them. you were scared that you'd stared at his eyes too long, so you looked away. you could stare at them forever, you thought.

“a chai latte please!” the other two looked at him with faces of confusion and utter disgust.

“itadori when have you ever liked chai lattes…” the girl sighed.

“I’ve always gotten them! you guys just never go with me; I end up going with panda and todo…” the pink haired one said, in a somewhat whiny tone.

cute.

your nails made a satisfying noise as you finished entering their order onto the system. “right!" you said, looking up.

"would you like anything else with that?”

the pink one looked at the other two, then at the display of baked goods. he looked for a while. “a coffee cake please!”

after they finished ordering, the three of them sat down in the seats right at the counter, as there wasn’t anyone else. while preparing their drinks, you learnt that the girl, the dark-haired one and the cute one were called nobara, megumi and yuji, respectively. they went to some high school called ‘jujutsu high’; safe to say you’d never heard of it before, which explained why you hadn’t seen them around either. you joined in some of their conversations and banter as the aroma of fresh coffee started to drift throughout the air in the small café, bringing the cosy feel you loved so much.

yuji scooted closer to you as you passed the three their drinks from across the counter. he was just about to start talking when a new song started playing, which caught his attention.

“oh, I love this song! do you choose the music in here?”  he started tapping his finger to the beat of the song quietly.

you laughed quietly in response. “well yeah. I have a playlist that I just put on shuffle during my shift. I love this artist’s songs, i think most of them are in this playlist...”

his statement caused the two of you to begin a conversation about music, and as it slowly morphed into favourite movies and media in general, you began to realise that the two of you had really similar tastes. it felt like something clicked between the two of you, there was something different about his cheerful smile, you could feel it. every time yuji laughed at one of your jokes, you felt something flutter in your chest and your cheeks heat up a little. you didn’t believe in love at first sight before, but now…

for yuji, it was safe to say he was internally panicking. ever since nobara nudged him at the beginning and whispered an “ooh they’re cute, they’re so your type!” into his ear, it was all he could think about. he hoped you couldn’t see his face turn a deeper shade of red every time you smiled. trying to focus on his drink instead of looking like a weirdo by staring holes into your back every time you turned around, he stared at the cream and the sprinkle of masala atop his chai latte.

in the seats next to yuji, nobara said softly, as to not interrupt your conversation, to megumi: “I told you they were itadori’s type. I can tell these kinds of things,” megumi nodded, and took a sip out of his drink.

soon, the sky became dark, and the café had been open for way longer than it should’ve. looking at the time, yuji exclaimed something about being late, thanked you for your time, and the three of them left after paying, which was another episode in itself. staring longingly out the window into the now black night sky, you mentally reprimanded yourself for not asking for yuji's number or something. he was so sweet, and you felt a ‘connection’ with him, as cliché as it sounded… maybe someone else will pop up soon in your life, or something. you sighed; it was a busy day, and the fatigue from rush hour was getting to you now. it was lucky that you had cleaned up earlier while serving those three, as you didn’t have the energy to now. yawning, you picked up your bag and locked the building, the chill of the night air hitting you suddenly as you stepped outside. while walking back to your apartment, you absentmindedly read through the receipt from yuji and the others. as you reached the bottom of the receipt, you noticed something in pen ink written at the bottom. huh… one of them must’ve added something.

I wonder what it says?

there was a number– and a small note, which read:

‘text me when you get the chance! or don’t… haha

ur super cute btw (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)

-yuji ☆’

oh my gosh!

squealing, you made a mental note to text him once you got back and jumped a little out of excitement, earning you some looks from the few people on the street.

oh my god. he is so cute.

note guys ... what if i said i haven't finished shibuya arc yet... im too scared AAAAAA but yuji is my pookie and i think i did him very badly here and it's very ooc i know but dont tell me okay („• ᴗ •„) feel free to send in recs or something idk bye love you

[luvrxbunny]

emotional intimacy

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader 

Prompt: Dirty Talk

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smoking (weed), emotions, piv, unprotected sex, (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 1.8k

A/N: this general idea has been on my mind for so long omg (not proofread)

You take a long hit, impressing Eddie with how much smoke you exhale but bringing a smile to his face when you start coughing. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He laughs at you and takes the blunt from your hands. “Always think you’re some big ripper but can never handle.” He takes a hit. “The heat.” He raises his eyebrows at you as he exhales much more smoke than you had- without coughing. You giggle and push him over as you finish your water. “Shut it.”

You lean back and snuggle into his arm, feeling the immediate high from your last hit. He smiles at your action and the content sigh that leaves your lips once your face is pressed into his arm. He smokes the rest of the blunt while you lipsync along to the music he put on. “Can I tell you something? Cus- Well-” You sit up and tilt your body to face him at an angle. You have a shy look and a nervous little smile twitching on your lips. “I have something to say but- but it might be too soon or like um- maybe too much but I- It’s h-how I feel..?” He sits there confused for a moment, too high to figure out if you’re not making sense or he’s not understanding you. “Um... Yes?” 

You roll your eyes and laugh at him gently. “Do you wanna hear it? I- Cus you can’t get upset at what I say, get weird, or like- I don’t know be all awkward afterward… Okay?” He sits up straight, suddenly intrigued now that he understands what’s happening- you’re going to tell him a secret. He leans forward, pulls his knees up, and rests his chin on them with a curious sparkle in his eyes. He nods his head wildly, making his curls jump. “Mhm! Tell me, tell me.” You feel a surge of anxiety and excitement run through you as his eagerness. 

You take a deep breath and scoot closer to him, offering yourself a bit more comfort before beginning your statement. “I- “ You pause as your heart skips a beat, take a deep breath, and force yourself to continue with a nervous smile. “I really like you, Eddie.” His eyes widen and his head tilts like a confused puppy but he stays silent, waiting for more. “You’re just- ugh. You’re so cute and perfect and kind. You’re so nice to me I-” You cover your face at how wide your smile is getting. “You make me feel like- like there’s a sun inside of me, like there’s a bright light trying to break through that can like- that only you can ignite. I’m not sure if- I don’t think I’m making sense.” You giggle at yourself with your gaze down on the covers. “I wake up wanting to see you. I go to sleep wishing I spent more time with you. I- I hope and pray constantly that you’ll still like me the next morning and that I- I keep being your type and a girl that you wanna be with and-”

He kisses you, unfolding all his limbs and pulling you into his lips. You giggle happily into them, overjoyed that he’s taking your outpour of emotions so well. You caress his cheek and the back of his neck with your hands as he kisses you, moaning gently into the kiss before pulling away. “Sorry. Sorry, keep- keep going.” He’s panting and his face is red, cheeks beaming as he smiles at you expectantly, waiting to hear more. Your brain is a bit scrambled by the kiss, it’s oddly heated nature in such a heartfelt moment but you push through for Eddie. “Um. I think- I don’t think I could think up a better boyfriend if I tried, I- You’re everything I want, everything I need and more and- and you do it all without even trying! You’re just perfect for me.” You pause for a moment, coming to a certain realization that you would’ve held in normally, but the weed has lowered your inhibitions and Eddie is staring at you with his big, chocolate, puppy dog eyes and it’s too much to handle, the feeling is bursting inside your chest. “I- I just love you, Eddie.” You confess, staring right at him as you do to gauge his reaction. 

His eyes widen so much you begin to get self-conscious, worrying that you’ve gone too far, that you should’ve stopped, it’s too soon. His eyebrows furrow and his head tilts again. He reaches out for you slowly, taking your hand off the bed and slowly intertwining your fingers. “Are you- Are you sure? Are you being serious or- I mean” He chuckles sadly. “You’re pretty high right now, sweetheart.” Despite the fear of rejection, you feel the need to make your emotions crystal clear to Eddie. 

You shake your head vigorously, an adorable pout on your face as you glare softly at him. “Don’t say that, Eddie. You know I can still think clearly. I mean it. I didn’t know before- I just found out! But… that doesn’t make it any less true.” You state sternly, assuring that he believes every word you’re saying. His eyes flutter as his thumb strokes over your hand and he nods slowly. He leans back against the bed, pulling your hand with him and you almost fall on him. “Well. I love you too.” He had a proud smile on his face as he spoke but once his eyes met yours he could see the hesitation, so he made his feelings as clear as yours. “You’re the sweetest thing in my life, baby. You know that light you were talking about? The one that you say feels like a sun inside you? It’s you, baby. You’re the light. You light up my life and the lives of everyone around you. You-” He sighs and adjusts his position, lifting his hips before leaning further back, his eyes on the ceiling so his hair falls back over his shoulder and exposes his neck. “You never need to worry about being my type. You’re my everything. I can’t even look at other girls without comparing them to you, and none of them- none can even begin to match up.”

You feel your heart race as he speaks, and if we’re being honest… a little heat starts up in the base of your stomach, a little tingle between your legs as you take in all his feelings for you. “You’re the hottest, most prettiest, most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my fuckin’ life you-” His words become background noise as you admire him, his arms have come to cover his burning red face but the gesture has his shirt riding up, exposing his little happy trail and accentuating the way his stomach is tensing under his shirt. Your eyes keep moving, trailing down further and finally noticing the movement of his hips under the covers. “I can’t even go an hour without thinking about you and- You’re so- Baby, I love you so much- I can’t even put it into words. I’m- I don’t have the vocabulary for it. You-” He cuts himself off with a gasp as you pull the covers down further, revealing the painful-looking bulge in his pants. 

Your eyes widen at the sight but you’re not surprised, you’ve been feeling the same way. He’s sat up and staring at you as you stare at his crotch, already leaking at the sight. “I’m- I just- I’m kinda weird so- so you telling me you like me, and you- Fuck. You love me just- It turns me on? I don’t- It’s weird I know but I can’t help it, baby. You’re so fucking hot.” His words send a shiver down your spine as your hand leaves the blanket to palm his cock without a second thought. His head falls back as he grabs your wrist and pulls your hand closer, giving himself more pressure from your little hands. “Oh, please.” His eyes are in the back of his head, overly sensitive from his high and all your emotions. “Mm— not gonna last, sweetie. Wan- want you, gotta be inside you.” 

You’re climbing into his lap and undoing his pants before he can even finish his begging. His hands run up your arms to cradle your face and pull you in for a kiss while you pull his cock out. Goosebumps erupt over your body at his hands running over your skin, your high having turned all your senses up to eleven. You can feel your clit pulsing inside your panties as he pulls them to the side to help you line him up with your hole. “Yeah, lemme in, babes. Good girl.” He whispers to you as your slide onto his cock. 

His eyes flutter and try to roll to the back of his head as his cock slides into your warmth, your burning heat that consumes him until he’s filling you to the brim with his own. It feels different, being with you feels different now that you’ve told him the way you feel. He can tell you’re thinking the same thing, feeling the same thing by the way you're fucking yourself on him. You’re abusing yourself with his cock, arousal pummeling into his stomach every time his hips meet yours. “Sweetheart—” 

His nickname for you comes out as a whimper as he wraps his arms around your waist and his head falls into the nook of your neck and shoulder. He’s whimpering into your skin, his hips grinding up as best he can as you grip his hair and tighten around his cock. Your body is on lit, like a spark and Eddie is gasoline, he’s setting you alight. “I’m gonna cum, baby.” He groans raggedly at that, his hands gripping your hips, his blunt nails digging into your plush hips. “Good, good. Cum on me, my love.” His words send you over the edge and your orgasm pulls him with you. 

You shake over his cock as he moans into your ear, his tummy tenses against you as he starts to fill you with his cum. He pulls away from your neck to moan into your mouth as you moan into his, your wet lips ever parted over his. He can’t help the smile that comes onto his face as he examines your expression. You have soft tears in the corners of your shut eyes, your brows are furrowed and drawn inward as you come down from your peak but keep grinding into him slowly. He watches you twitch in overstimulation as his cock still cries into you. His cum has started to leak out of you, onto his sheets, and making a mess of both your thighs and he’s just kissing you.

There’s a smile on his lips as they press into yours, a chuckle sliding out and filling your mouth. You pull away with a hazy smile over your lips. “What?” You ask, your voice high and tired. His chest almost explodes with love at how gone you are, at how easily you give yourself to him. “That was the hottest dirty talk I’ve ever heard, baby.” You give him a shocked giggle and hit his chest as he wraps his arms back around you and falls back onto the bed, pulling you down with him. 

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works, and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Chapter Three

Kusuo Saiki x Reader

Chapter Three: Sports Festival

Summary: Saiki and (Y/N) participate in the Sports Festival, and Saiki has his receiver taken.

            (Y/N) stretched as they waited for the events to begin. It was PK Academy’s Sports Festival, and Class 3 was ready and eager to compete (except for Saiki). Everyone was way too into the event for his taste, but it wasn’t like he could change that.

            “Never give up, Class 3! Yeah!” shouted Hairo encouragingly.

            “Yeah!” repeated his classmates.

            “Quite saying ‘yeah,’ it’s annoying.”

            “Sports Day, huh? Humph, how stupid,” remarked Kaidou dramatically, “My strength is for use in combat. I shouldn’t waste it on silly games.”

            “You’re just saying that ‘cause you’re terrible at sports,” said Nendou.

            (Y/N) laughed.

            “Hey, Saiki!” called Hairo. “I expect great things from you!”

            Don’t expect anything from me!

            “Saiki!” (Y/N) ran up to him and gave him a large, closed-eye smile. “You’ve got this if you try!”

            “Thanks,” said Saiki (not as begrudgingly as he’d like to think). They seemed earnest, and he respected that (and them in general).

            “Nendou!” Hairo turned his exuberant attention to the tall boy. “You’ve got great athletic skills!”

            “Sure!” Nendou gave Hairo a thumbs-up. “You’re not gonna beat me this time.”

            “Nendou, he’s on our team, too,” reminded (Y/N), poking him.

            “(L/N)!” Hairo looked at them. “Keep bringing your energy!”

            (Y/N) gave him a peace sign and smile. “Sure thing!” They always had energy.

            “Also, Kaidou…!” Hairo attended to the blue-haired boy. “Uhm, well, do what you can.”

            Even Hairo’s optimism has limits.

            “What do you mean by that?!” cried Kaidou.

            (Y/N) patted his back comfortingly. “Give your best. I believe in you.”

            That’s probably less earnest than their other statements.

            “Don’t worry,” said Hairo, “All that matters is that our class wins!”

            “I’d rather just have fun,” commented (Y/N) to Saiki.

            Just like they said that day after the rain, they enjoy the little things. They called it “romance.” Saiki frowned as his heart beat a fraction faster as he thought of the word “romance.” That had never happened before. He wasn’t a fan.

            “The competition this year looks tough,” said Hairo. “First, Class 1. An intellectual group that has many students get top grades on tests! And Class 2. An athletic group that has the most students who belong to athletic clubs!”

            “Why does their class representative not have his shirt on?” mumbled (Y/N). They really didn’t need to see a random guy’s bare chest.

            At least someone here notices how weird this is.

            “Furthermore, Class 4,” continued Hairo, “An intellectual group led by Tanihara, who scored first-place in the midterms! The last one is Class 5. An intellectual group where an astonishing eighty percent of them wear glasses!”

            “You just like saying ‘intellectual,’ don’t you?” remarked Saiki. “And why did you have to give such long exposition?”

            “So we’ve got three intellectual classes, an athletic one, and…us,” said (Y/N). I don’t really know what’s special about us. Maybe we’re the “weird” class. A little mean, but it felt right.

            At least someone here knows how to get to the point.

            Over the loudspeaker came an announcement. “The first event is the boys’ 100-meter dash.”

            Saiki sighed.

            “Good luck, Saiki,” said (Y/N), smiling brightly.

            Saiki nodded at them.

            “Kuu! Go for it!” cheered Mrs. Saiki.

            “I’m recording you on a hard drive called my heart,” called Mr. Saiki.

            (Y/N) tilted their head. “Doesn’t he have a video camera?”

            “Out of battery,” answered Saiki.

            (Y/N) frowned. “How do you know?”

            “He didn’t properly charge it last night.” Saiki easily covered for himself. Before they asked anything else, he walked over to the starting line.

            “Go! Saiki! For our victory!” shouted Hairo.

            Saiki sighed, and as the gun went off, he ran out. He ended up in second place, but that was too conspicuous, so he let everyone catch up and instead finished third—acceptable, but more average. His team didn’t mind and congratulated him.

            “Great job,” said (Y/N) earnestly.

            Saiki nodded to them in acknowledgement.

            “That was incredible!” exclaimed Hairo.

            “Why am I getting so much praise for ranking third?”

            “Because friends congratulate each other,” said (Y/N).

            “You’re not my friends.”

            “Maybe one day you’ll actually convince me,” teased (Y/N). They weren’t put off by Saiki’s words. After all, the heart held the truth more than what he said.

            “Not bad, pal, although I can run faster than that,” said Nendou.

            “Well, right now it’s Kaidou’s turn,” said (Y/N). “Come on, Kaidou!”

            Yare yare, so energetic.

            Kaidou tried his hardest and ended up fifth place. He looked disappointed, so (Y/N) patted him on the back and told him he tried his best. He smiled slightly and stood up straighter.

            “What was that running?!” laughed Nendou.

            Kaidou slumped over again. (Y/N) leveled a steely glare at Nendou. He flinched and shut up. Saiki watched warily and reminded himself not to upset (Y/N). Evidently, they had an intense, protective side.

            “We have to somehow turn things around in the next event,” muttered Hairo determinedly, completely engrossed in the events of the sports festival.

            The loudspeaker turned on again. “The second event is the girl’s 100-meter dash,” announced the voice.

            “Well, I’m up,” chirped (Y/N). They were competing against girls since their team needed strength in that area.

            “Good luck.”

            Surprised, (Y/N) blinked. Their heart thumped for a second, but they recovered and just grinned. “Thanks, Saiki!”

            The gun went off, and (Y/N) ran the best they could, spurred on by the belief their friends had in them (even Saiki. Especially Saiki). They crossed the finish line second, moving the class up the ranking. Seeing the scoreboard change, (Y/N) whooped happily.

            “Great job, (Y/N)!” cheered Hairo, clapping them across the back.

            (Y/N) coughed as the wind was knocked out of them but laughed all the same. “Thanks, Hairo.”

            “The next event is the coed three-legged race,” announced the loudspeaker.

            Teruhashi was competing. Instantly, everybody swarmed around her and began to give her words of encouragement. (Y/N) sweat-dropped. It really was incredible the effect she had on people.

            “Good job,” said Saiki.

            (Y/N) brightened. “Thanks!” For some reason, (Y/N) couldn’t help but straighten happily knowing Saiki had cover over to stand with them instead of hovering around Teruhashi. It was normal for him, but (Y/N) couldn’t help but notice it.

            From behind them, Teruhashi frowned for a moment before lighting up with a bright smile again. Why’s he over there with them?! Why isn’t he over here, telling me I’m going to do a great job?! I am going to win this! After all, I’m the perfect pretty girl, including in sports!

            I might want to blend in, but I still have my pride. I’m not going to fawn over someone… He subconsciously glanced at (Y/N) before forcing himself to focus on Teruhashi and her partner in the race.

            “Let’s do our best, Sawakita,” cooed Teruhashi.

            “O-Okay,” stuttered Sawakita, blushing nervously.

            “Let’s win no matter what!” Teruhashi took Sawakita’s hands into her own gently. I may not look it, but I hate to lose. Which is why I have to get first, to beat (L/N) and to have Saiki congratulate me!

            Yare yare. I don’t want to deal with this.

            “Hey, if we win, let’s celebrate alone, okay?” asked Teruhashi coyly.

            That’s one way to give him a reason to win.

            Sure enough, as soon as the pistol signaled the start of the race, Sawakita picked Teruhashi up and sprinted to the finish line. No one had a problem with it, and they won first place with no issue. As usual, the world smiled upon Teruhashi and let everything work out for her.

            “Aren’t they supposed to run on three legs?” asked (Y/N).

            Saiki nodded. It’s Teruhashi, though, so no one will get in trouble.

            “All right! Let’s keep it up and make a comeback!” said Hairo.

            “Ha! The scavenger hunt race is next!” laughed Nendou. “Who’s gonna do that?!”

            “You will,” said Saiki.

            “Good luck,” said (Y/N), deciding to ignore Nendou forgetting.

            “Oh, yeah. It was me,” realized Nendou as he walked over to the group of participants.

            “Go for it, Nendou!” cheered the redhead.

            “All right!” yelled Nendou as he picked up his list of items. “Oh, this is so easy.”

            “Looks like he knows where to get it,” commented Hairo, relieved.

            Nendou ran up to the class. “Hey, let me borrow that.”

            “You mean this?” Hairo held up his tennis racket.

            “No, that’s not it.” Nendou reached out and grabbed one of Saiki’s receivers.

            Saiki blanked and collapsed in exhaustion.

            “Saiki!” cried (Y/N) in concern, dropping to their knees next to him. They hadn’t anticipated such a reaction, but their worry covered up the strange moment.

            “What’s going on?!” questioned Hairo. “What happened?!”

            “I-I don’t know,” stammered (Y/N), “He just collapsed!” They gazed at him worriedly since he had an odd look on his face. He clearly wasn’t alright. “Nendou! Give me that bobble back,” they ordered. If taking it out hurt him, maybe it needed to be put back in.

            “Huh? Why?” asked Nendou.

            (Y/N) just snatched it from him and put it back in Saiki’s hair. It also went into his head, but they didn’t realize. They held their breath and waited.

            A moment later, Saiki’s eyes opened. He found himself staring up at (Y/N). Surprised and suddenly realizing he was close to their face, he sat up wildly and backed up.

            “Hey, hey, you’re safe,” assured (Y/N), putting a steadying hand on his shoulder for a moment. They removed it immediately after, not wanting to cross any boundaries. “I put that bobble back since you collapsed after Nendou took it,” they explained.

            Saiki breathed a slight sigh of relief. Obviously, his reaction to seeing them had been about the receiver. He thought he’d done something without his powers being dampened. Luckily, he hadn’t.

            “Are you okay?” asked (Y/N), their voice filled with concern.

            They didn’t care about the announcement of Nendou being last place in the scavenger hunt; they were just worried for Saiki. However, he stood up steadily, so (Y/N)’s apprehension abated.

            “I’m alright,” said Saiki. He was…glad they were concerned—somehow, them being worried about him felt nice instead of irritating.

            (Y/N) let out a breath of relief. “I’m glad.” They smiled. “You had me worried there.” They stood up and brushed the dirt off their knees. “Let’s get some lunch, you need to refuel after passing out.” When there was no response, they straightened. No Saiki. They frowned. “Saiki?” He’s wandered off. It’s not safe to do that after just collapsing. I better go find him.

            At the back of the school building, Saiki slid down the wall with his bento box. His hands trembled as he held the chopsticks. His strength was still uncontrollable, so he was avoiding other people because people might find out about his abilities and because he might hurt a friend. When Saiki heard footsteps, he was immediately on edge. It only got worse when (Y/N) walked around the corner. They were probably the person he least wanted to hurt other than his family.

            “Saiki,” they said, crouching down next to him. “You need to stop scaring me,” they joked. Their smile fell as they saw his shaking hands. Their gaze softened in concern. “Hey, you’re still pretty weak…Do you need help?”

            “I’m trying to eat. What is there to help with?”

            “At the rate you’re going, you’re either going to snap the chopsticks or drop your food,” teased (Y/N). Their expression turned serious. “But really, I can help. I know it’s kinda weird, but you need to eat, and I’m not going to just leave you without help.” Was it strange? Yes. But (Y/N) was Saiki’s friend. They would help him in any way possible.

            “Alright,” relented Saiki. He decided consciously that this was a good cover and a way for him to eat while his strength was uncontrollable, but there was also a comfortable feeling that surrounded him when (Y/N) was there to help. He couldn’t help but say yes.

            (Y/N) smiled and gently took the chopsticks into their hand. Bit by bit, they fed him his food. No words were exchanged; a calm silence enveloped them.

            The peace was unfortunately broken when Nendou rounded the corner.

            “Oh, hey, pal, pinky, we were looking for you. You guys missed the magician,” said Nendou. He noticed how (Y/N) was feeding Saiki. “Oooh, are you guys on a date?”

            (Y/N)’s faced warmed, and they laughed nervously. “No, I was just helping him out since he still isn’t feeling well.”

            Saiki nodded. Good thing (Y/N) thinks quickly. Otherwise, Nendou would tell the whole school we were dating.

            Ba-bum.

            Yare yare, there’s that feeling again.

            “Oh, pal, are you still sick? Maybe you should head home,” said Nendou.

            I never thought he’d ever have such a good idea. Saiki nodded.

            The three of them went back in front of the building. Saiki’s friends annoyances were waiting there and bombarded him.

            “What happened?”

            “Where’d you go?”

            “Are you alright?”

            “Are you heading home?”

            “Are you sure you can go home alone?”

            “Don’t push yourself.”

            “Don’t worry about us, we’ll cover for you.”

            Yare yare. These guys…It’s very hard to go home now. Saiki was tempted to smile, but his “annoyance” was too grand.

            “You’re going to stick around, aren’t you?” remarked (Y/N).

            Saiki looked at them. How do they manage to read me?

            (Y/N) continued jokingly, “We’ve melted your icy heart! You cannot help but stay!” They laughed at themself.

            The corners of Saiki’s mouth twitched upwards for a moment, and he immediately decided not to entertain their conversation for fear of more reactions.

            “Alright, Class 3!” declared Hairo. “We’re having team competitions in the afternoon! The next event is the tug of war!”

            “I think he’s super excited because he wasn’t in any of the individual events,” commented (Y/N) to Saiki. “Have fun,” they teased.

            Yare yare.

            Saiki pulled on the rope with the rest of the boys in his class. However, he wasn’t giving much effort since his strength was far beyond the others’. Saiki even accidentally broke the rope. Due to the situation from earlier, he still couldn’t control his abilities and ended up winning the match for Class 3, though no one noticed it was him.

            “Great job, you guys!” congratulated (Y/N). They turned to Saiki. “You must be strong, Saiki! You were barely breaking a sweat!”

            Yare yare. They somehow cover for all my abilities while also noticing them more than anyone else. So strange.

            “Behold the power of Class 3!” declared Hairo.

            “To think that a match against humans got me this fired up,” murmured Kaidou dramatically.

            “Did you guys have lunch?” asked Nendou.

            “The rope is torn at the spot I was holding,” exclaimed Takahashi, “Could I have done this?”

            The four boys then posed with determined faces and crossed arms while the other classes looked on in wonder. However, Class 3 was still in third place overall. Two events remained.

            “Class 3 isn’t doing so hot, huh?!” questioned Toristuka challengingly, “Looks like Class 2 might win, huh?!”

            “So? I couldn’t care less,” said Saiki.

            (Y/N) nodded. “Having fun with friends is more important.”

            Toristuka hurriedly continued his condescension. “Ah! See? We’re number one right now! Bam!” He smiled. “Well, I was last in the three-legged race, though.”

            Recalling how creepy he’d been, (Y/N) shivered.

            “I can’t believe you look so proud of it,” said Saiki.

            “Please don’t hold a grudge against me if my class wins,” said Toritsuka, still acting superior.

            “Seriously, I couldn’t care less about who wins, or about you for that matter,” said Saiki while (Y/N) nodded in agreement.

            “Sorry, but it’s Class 3 that’s going to win!” declared Hairo. “If we lose, I’ll get a buzzcut!”

            “We’re way behind them, are you sure we should be making bets?” questioned (Y/N), tilting their head blankly. They were all for some fun, but they weren’t sure this was their class’s best idea ever.

            “Are you serious?” asked Toritsuka, looking at Hairo.

            “That just shows you how determined I am!” said Hairo.

            “Hey, hey, if Hairo’s going to do it…We’ll get a buzzcut, too!” promised the other boys of Class 3.

            “Wait, wait,” said Saiki. He didn’t want to get roped in.

            “Count me in, too,” said Kaidou confidently, “Of course, there’s no chance of me losing.”

            “Kaidou, confidence is good, but sometimes realism is important,” remarked (Y/N).

            “Where is he getting that confidence from?” asked Saiki.

            “I’ll get a buzzcut, too,” proclaimed Nendou.

            “In your case, it won’t be a penalty,” observed Saiki.

            (Y/N) nodded. “A proper cut that’s even all the way around may actually look better.”

            “That’s right! Our hearts are one!” declared Hairo. “If we lose, every guy in Class 3 will get a buzzcut!”

            “I’m glad it’s just the boys doing this,” commented (Y/N). They beamed. “I don’t have anything to worry about.”

            Saiki gave them a deadpan glare.

            “Aw, come on, you know I’ll still try to help you,” said (Y/N), waving a hand. They frowned. “All the same, I don’t think there are a lot of events left.”

            I’ll be making sure I don’t have to get a buzzcut with my powers, anyways.

            The loudspeaker turned on and announced, “The next even is the interclass beanbag toss.”

            Sure enough, as his classmates ran around and threw beanbags towards their basket, Saiki ensured that a good amount landed inside. Psychic powers came in handy occasionally.

            Hey, don’t say this is foul play. Nothing in the rulebook forbids supernatural powers.

            Once the time ran out, the beanbags were counted up, and the announcement was made.       “Class 1: thirty-three beanbags, Class 2: twenty-eight beanbags, Class 3: eighty-three beanbags,” reported the PA system.

            “Hey, we did pretty well!” chirped (Y/N). They smiled brightly, and flowers seemed to dance around them.

            “We got more than double the others!” shouted Class 3.

            “Er…” the announced paused awkwardly, “Class 4: one hundred beanbags.”

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened comically. “How did they manage that?!”

            Especially without psychic powers…

            “We used our heads. Look,” said Class 4’s representative pompously.

            His class had piled all the beanbags into one giant plastic bag and put that into their basket.

            (Y/N) sweat-dropped. “I feel like there should be a rule about that.”

            I might have powers, but this definitely feels like foul play.

            “Don’t call this foul play,” said Tanihara, “The rulebook doesn’t say that the use of a big bag is forbidden.”

            “They should’ve written a rule for that.”

            (Y/N) nodded fervently. “It’s out-of-the-box thinking, but it just feels unsportsmanlike.”

            “But there’s still the last event, the interclass relay!” declared an optimistic, determined Hairo. “The class in first place will get five hundred points. It means that if we’re in first place and Class 4 is in last, we can win! Saiki! I want you to be another leg!”

            “It seems refusing would just make things difficult,” the psychic observed.

            “I’ll try to get the baton to you quickly,” said (Y/N) brightly, trying to help as best they could.

            The classes organized themselves. When the pistol signaled the start, Kaidou began running as fast as he could (not very fast) while his classmates cheered him on. When he passed the baton to Tadashi, they were unfortunately in last place. This was repeated when Tadashi passed the baton to Nendou. Luckily, even though he ran very strangely, he was fast and got to first place. Teruhashi was next and could run quickly as well (another perk of being the perfect pretty girl). She passed the baton to Yumehara who managed to maintain a fast pace. Hairo was next to receive the baton. He handed it to (Y/N) while still in the lead. (Y/N) prepared to run quickly but tripped suddenly. They were in last place as they got back up and started sprinting.

            Saiki readied himself for the baton. I’m going to cross the finish line in the same place I started. In other words, we will finish in last place.

            Tripping someone isn’t foul play, either…As long as no one notices, that is… thought Tanihara.

            Now that changes everything. Can’t let him get away with cheating and sabotaging (Y/N) my class.

            “Saiki! Hurry!” called (Y/N) as they held out the baton.

            It flew from their hand to Saiki’s, causing them to blink.

            “I will,” said Saiki. It’s payback time for (Y/N).

            Class 3, indeed, all of the students, gazed in amazement as Saiki sped to the front of the group. He was almost at the finish line.

            “Yeah! Great job, Saiki!” cheered (Y/N).

            Saiki collapsed. (Y/N) sweat-dropped. His class gaped.

            Oh, that’s right. I can’t control my body well right now.

            (Y/N) walked over and knelt by him. Smiling kindly, they said, “It’s alright. You did your best.”

            Yare yare. I was trying to avoid a buzzcut.

l

            “Good morning, guys!” greeted Hairo. “Where are your buzzcuts?”

            He was sporting one himself. Behind him stood Nendou, Kaidou, and Saiki. Nendou sported the same cut, but he somehow ended up with more hair than he began with. Kaidou was completely bald, and Saiki had a buzzcut.

            (Y/N) bit their lip to stop from laughing. “You boys only had to do that if we lost to Class 2, remember? We beat them.”

            Yare yare. Saiki had a feeling that (Y/N) wasn’t going to let this one go for a while.

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