#again: they are both horrible partners
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dreadfuldevotee · 6 months ago
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It bears saying that trying to determine who is a worse abuser, Lestat or Armand, is like comparing getting mauled by a lion vs. being mauled by a tiger because at the end of the day you are still being Fucking Mauled.
That is to say: it is insane that in this fandom poor little meow meow competition, the guy who literally beat the fucking breaks off Louis and dropped him from 500 feet is widely considered the lesser of the two evils
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my entire family goes to bed at 9:30 because i live with fucking old people (im joking. somewhat.) and from then on i have to move around the house quietly. this wouldn't be a problem except that my door is incredibly and uniquely fucked up and nigh impossible to open even remotely quietly
#and it can't be left open because the cat will beeline into my room and make my life hell#every door in my house is absolutely fucking horrible in its own way but my room is really bad#the doorknob is like. dislocated. or just made for a much thicker door because the middle part of it is like 3 cm too long#and i either have to align it carefully or pull on it (makes a very loud sound) and then using a very specific amount of pressure turning#while continuing to pull on it so it won't pop#oh and i can technically open it turning both directions but going right makes it pop so fucking loud it's actually ridiculous#the very unpleasant sound of painted metal on painted metal#kiwifae says shit#my partner of two years is just getting the hang of my bedroom door#my friend came over and literally got stuck in the bathroom cuz she couldn't make the door open again#she literally tried for a few seconds and then just yelled for me 😭#that door also pops open randomly sometimes. i do not know why. it didn't use to.#back when the front door was still semi functional i had to fish the literal latch out of the cavity in the lock with a screwdriver cuz my#mom kept slamming the door and misaligning it even though we told her that's what fucks it up#we can only deadbolt that door now. it literally won't close otherwise. (that's how we lost the cat for five days!)#(back when it still semi worked i was the only one who knew how to close it at just the right strength so it would stick but not fall out)#((why isn't there an eye twitch emoji))#but our other outside door exclusively has a deadbolt. that's the only mechanism.#i'm the fucking door wizard in my house and i cannot WAIT to move somewhere where i have functional semi modern door handles#gawd bless i want to kill my fucking landlady
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crimeronan · 2 years ago
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THANK YOU FOR HAVING THE QPP HUNTER AND LUZ POST,,,, YOU'RE SO REAL FOR THAT
the amazing thing about this ask is i've made so many posts about hunter and luz being qpps that i have a whole tag for it. so i have no Idea which one specifically this post is referring to....
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multishipper-baby · 7 months ago
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Having thoughts about Eak going through the awful ordeal of telling people he's going to be a dad, because angst.
#no main tag#he tells cami and towntrap first. because he needs their support more than he worries about their judgement#although he doesn't initially tell them owynn is the kid's dad. he says he doesn't want to talk about it and they leave it alone for now#he hadn't told them he was dating owynn because he knew they wouldn't approve and it was just supposed to be something casual#but eventually they do ask him to tell the truth (because they're worried about him) and he does confess#they're... not happy about it. cami especially. but they are better about it than he expected them to be so that's good#he tells his parents soon after the initial talk with his friends and that one definitely goes BAD. REALLY BAD#they take him to the doctor so they can figure out how far along he is and tell him they'll disown him if he aborts which is#not great because they also tell him that they'll kick him out of the house if he keeps it. they think the baby should be adopted out#eak hadn't yet decided on what he wanted to do about it but he's not exactly thrilled about being told he only has one choice#eventually he settles on keeping it because 1- being raised by a pro life family means he's not fully comfortable with abortion#plus he's heard lots of fear mongering about it that worry him. and he doesn't want to lose his family completely#(even if they suck)#he can't go through with an adoption though. he knows he'll drive himself crazy worrying about the kid#he's too protective to have his baby out in the world without knowing if they're alright or if their new family treats them well#so. kicked out at the end of his pregnancy it is. fun times ahead /s#and only when he's sure of that does he tell owynn the news#he'd been putting it off because he knew it'd go horribly and he didn't want to deal with it but you know. can't hide forever#anyway owynn tells him to abort it and gets increasingly demanding when eak tells him he's not going to do that#at which point they get into a really ugly screaming match where both of them say things they'd regret later#owynn gets tired and says that eak was probably cheating on him and the kid isn't even his (not bc he believes it- he's just being shitty)#and to not talk to him ever again. so they spend what's left of the school year avoiding each other#owynn basically only talks to eak through cami. which is extremely awkward for all of them#great job at being a good partner owynn you really exceeded my expectations /s#but yeah. rip to eak#tmpreg#eakwynn#although it's not very romantic
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bluelockmaniac · 6 months ago
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˖⋆࿐໋ "PLEASE, COME BACK."
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★ ft. itoshi rin, itoshi sae, michael kaiser, alexis ness, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, don lorenzo, oliver aiku, isagi yoichi & otoya eita (honourable mentions). synopsis. your ex-partners are desperate for you and need you back.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 content warning. general: pet names (princess, baby, etc). sae: suggestive. ness: mentions of stalking, obsessive, creepy ngl. reo: parental humiliation, mother reader. oliver: cheating (duh), he gets slapped lmfao.
notes. total word count: 3.3k !! , angsty ? fem!reader .
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୨ৎ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍
rainy days were the worst, you mused bitterly, recalling how rin had chosen a stormy day, much akin to this, to break things off with you.
you sneezed into your elbow, feeling the tiny droplets of water cascade down, peppering your bare skin relentlessly. you shivered as you sat on a random bench in the nearest park, regretting your decision to skip checking the weather app today.
wrapping your arms around yourself, cold and damp, you anxiously waited for a certain someone to pick you up.
suddenly, the freezing, stinging sensation of the raindrops on your skin ceased. you noticed a pair of legs in front of you and tilted your head up, meeting the familiar gaze of the man you had once called yours. his arm was outstretched, holding an umbrella above your head.
“y/n…” rin's voice was quiet, barely audible over the splattering rain.
your eyes widen, quickly darting down to stare at your empty lap. your fingers gripped the bench tightly. "hi," you mumbled, the word barely escaping your lips. this was probably the first time he had ever initiated a conversation with you; in your past relationship, that had always been your role. what was he doing here, anyway?
as if reading your mind, he spoke up awkwardly, “i just finished my afternoon jog…” he paused, shuffling his feet slightly. “do you want a ride?”
you finally looked up at him again, shaking your head subtly. “no, thank you... i'm waiting for someone right now.”
“ah, i see.” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. he internally cursed himself for his clumsy attempt and for possibly making things worse by asking in the first place.
a few moments of uncomfortable silence passed between you, but when the tension was too unbearable to handle, he broke the silence.
“i'm… fuck, i'm sorry, okay?” he lowered his head, biting the inside of his cheek in frustration. “for everything in the past. for always ignoring you and neglecting you... if you want, we can–”
the loud honking sound of a car in the distance caught the attention of both you and rin. his brows furrowed in confusion as you stood up and walked a few steps towards the car, throwing him a faint smile.
“ah, it seems like my boyfriend is here.”
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୨ৎ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄
by no means was your relationship with sae horrible; in fact, it was quite the opposite. he consistently spoiled you with gifts and favourite snacks, treated you better than his teammates and the public, and always made you feel like the only girl in the universe.
so why had you both mutually agreed to call things off? the challenges of a long-distance relationship became overwhelming.
his frequent travels abroad for football games and the substantial timezone difference made regular communication difficult. every time you called, he would be asleep, and by the time you woke up, you’d see numerous missed calls from him.
nonetheless, it was safe to say that there were still lingering feelings between you both.
you sat down on your plush couch, turning on the television. immediately, the exclusive football channel that your tv always seemed to be tuned into appeared, and this time, it featured a live interview with your ex-boyfriend.
“sae…” you whispered softly upon seeing him.
it seemed as though the interviewer had already wrapped up the important questions, and was now delving into more personal topics.
“thank you, itoshi-san. next question, is there anything in particular that you enjoy doing?”
the football prodigy rolled his eyes and sighed audibly. with a blank expression, he replied, “my girlfriend.”
you felt your face heat up at the suggestive implication, pressing your hands to your warming cheeks– he had never had a girlfriend besides you and had promised he wouldn’t date anyone else. he was talking about you.
to make matters worse for your fragile heart, sae stared right into the camera lens with a subtle smirk, as if he knew you would be watching. the shallow stirring in your heart has confirmed what you already feared: you hadn’t gotten over him, and you knew you never would.
silence louder than a roaring engine filled the enclosure, before the interviewer broke the awkward stillness. “... s-sorry?” the lady was clearly caught off-guard, blinking at him once, twice.
sae scoffed impatiently, “did you not hear me the first time?”
“a-ah, yes, of course.” the woman stammered quickly, trying to recover her professionalism. “you... enjoy doing your girlfriend, yes.”
“used to,” he muttered under his breath, but the interviewer caught it.
“oh, i'm sorry,”
“yeah.”
unfortunately, the lady decided to press on, pushing her luck to pry more information from him. “so, itoshi-san, why did you break up with your girlfriend? could you provide your fans more information regarding your love li–”
he frowned deeply, shoving his hands into his pockets and abruptly standing up to leave, his manager pathetically following behind him. “shut up. you're annoying, leave me alone, ugly.”
later that day, you received a text message from sae.
'i need you back asap. i can help you settle here in spain and i'll pay for the plane ticket and shit.'
you would have never responded so quickly to a single text message had you still been in the long distance relationship. but, you still had a life here– your family, your childhood memories. you hesitated, leaving him on read for now, until you could think of something to reply with later.
a few weeks passed.
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୨ৎ 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑
in a way, you blame yourself for thinking you could play the ‘i can change him,’ game. despite this, your efforts, though minimal, were somehow significant. he became increasingly dependent on you, seeking your comfort whenever he was upset over a game or haunted by memories of his harsh past.
he particularly loved resting his head on your comfortable lap as you raked your fingers through his blond hair, or when you kissed the tattoo on his neck, assuring him that everything would be okay.
but it had become exhausting. too repetitive. irritating, even. his daily venting sessions had taken a toll on your mental well-being, and you simply could not bear it any longer. 
unfortunately, the breakup ended on bad terms, with both of you hurling insults and belittling each other.
you happened to run into him at the airport. quickly, you shifted your gaze away, hoping that he had not taken notice of you. but luck seemed to mock you, and you could already hear his distinctive footsteps approaching.
"hey," he said nonchalantly, tapping on your shoulder to get your attention. “look at me, talk to me.”
your expression wavered as you hesitantly met his gaze, pursing your lips unsurely. “hi, michael,” you muttered softly.
a shallow line etched between his brows. “michael? you know that's not my name. say it properly.”
“it's not micha anymore, though,” you retorted, turning and walking toward the airplane boarding aisle as the passenger announcement was made.
“tch,” he scoffed, quickly making his way to his team, who were boarding the plane from the exclusive gate reserved for the elite football team of bastard münchen.
it was unfortunate that he had to board the same plane as you, but this was just a layover for you- you still had another flight to take before reaching your final destination.
closing your eyes, you leaned your head against the circular window, drifting off to sleep. when you slowly opened your eyes, however, you were not met with the kind gaze of the old lady who had been sitting next to you.
instead, you found yourself staring into a pair of cerulean eyes. he rested his chin on his hand, his elbow propped up on the armrest, watching you intently.
instantly, your eyes flutter fully open and a hurried gasp escaped your lips. “m-michael, you scared me,” you stuttered.
he rolled his eyes, turning his gaze away. “the old hag was more than happy to sit in the exclusive seats section,” he muttered simply. 
“i still haven't forgiven you,” he added, his eyes darting back to you. “but, fuck, come back already. stop being so stubborn.”
you sighed softly, taking his hands in yours. “michael, your rants aggravated my own anger issues. it literally wasn't good for my mental and emotional health.”
he mumbled something incoherent under his breath. when the plane finally descended one minute later, kaiser stood up, opening the overhead compartment above your seat, and handed you your two small suitcases.
placing his hand on your cheek, he leaned down to press his forehead against yours. “...don't block my number. i still want to see you. and talk to you.”
you nodded reluctantly, thanking him for the suitcases. as you looked at him once more before walking away, you spoke softly,
“please, consider going to therapy, micha.”
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୨ৎ 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒
what's better than returning home, exhaustion from work gnawing at your bones, only to find your ex-boyfriend lounging comfortably on a couch in your living room as if he owned the place?
you froze mid-step, breath catching in your throat. “alexis, what the fuck?” you spat angrily.
“y/n!” he immediately sprang up, his face lighting up alarmingly as he flashes you an innocent smile.
he casually strides towards you– as if he had no concept of personal space– and holds up a familiar DVD case. “schatz, remember this? i thought we could watch it, since i remember it was your favourite…”
your pulse quickened, instinctively stepping back. but, ness intercepted, possessively coiling his arms around you and enveloping you in a firm hug. his grip tightened slightly as you attempted to withdraw– but he was careful not to hurt you.
ness buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. “you'll watch it with me, won't you?” he smiled, his warm breath grazing your skin.
"alexis, how the fuck did you even get in?" you demanded, mustering the strength to break free and pry his arms off, snatching the remote and turning off the television.
he pouted, "i had the spare key you gave me! now won't you—"
“you're just as creepy and obsessive as ever,” you shot back, feeling intruded and unsettled, “there's a reason i broke up with you.”
his expression crumbled and his fists clenched tightly at his sides. “d-don't say that, remember all the good times we had? we belong together!” his voice quivered with desperation as he leaned pathetically against the wall.
“yeah, i thought so too,” you countered, “until i caught you, lurking in the corner of my eye, watching me with a friend at the mall.” you gestured towards the door. “leave, now, and give me back the damned key.”
tears formed in his eyes, threatening to spill over as he reluctantly handed back the key. his fingers lingered against yours for a moment longer than necessary. he stepped out of your apartment and threw a weak smile at you over his shoulder. he whispers, “i love you, and i always will.”
you slammed the door shut.
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୨ৎ 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐎
you heard the doorbell ring as you were occupied with chopping tiny pieces of carrots for your young daughter. with a sigh, you set down the knife on the cutting board, wiping your hands on your apron and reluctantly heading towards the door.
there was no need to check the peephole; you instinctively knew it was your ex-husband, reo.
his monthly visits to hand over the child support had become a begrudgingly predictable routine. you swung the door open, and immediately, his desperate gaze met yours.
“y/n—” he started, but you cut him off with an uninterested glare.
“she's on the play mat in the living room. put the check on the table.” you said indifferently, already turning back toward the kitchen. before you could take a step, his fingers gently wrapped around your wrist. it's nothing you didn't expect, however; it happened every single month.
“reo, let go,” your voice was firm yet tired.
“baby, please,” he insisted, pulling you towards his chest and embracing you tightly. you felt the warmth of his body against yours, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne. “i miss you. i really do. do you know how painful it is for me to slowly watch you become a stranger?”
you remained motionless for a moment before shaking your head, gently pushing him away. “no... just no,” you asserted softly, “your parents always humiliated me during our marriage— whether it be in front of guests at social events or large family dinners. i've never felt enough. and worse, you've always ignored it.”
his face twisted into one of guilt as he attempted to draw you back into his embrace. “i promise i'll–”
“reo!” your strangled voice accidentally yells out. “put the check on the table and leave!” the words leave your mouth impulsively in frustration.
you quickly brought a hand to your mouth, then clutched your chest, taking a deep breath to calm yourself as tears welled up in your eyes. in a quieter tone, you pleaded, “reo, please, just leave…”
albeit reluctantly, he complied, retreating with a heavy heart. but, as per the habitual routine, he returned the next month, pleading for your forgiveness and begging to be taken back.
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୨ৎ 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎
dating nagi was tedious, and even that was an understatement.
"seishiro, i'm seriously considering blocking you if keep calling me every single day, begging me to take you back."
you exasperated, frustration clear as you sat on your bed with the phone on speaker, going through your nighttime skincare routine. you could hear nagi exhale deeply on the other end.
“... 'mm, angel, please,” he whined, his voice growing louder and more desperate. “i miss you, i'm all alone, my apartment's a mess and—”
you scoff, tossing the moisturizer tube onto your bed as you swabbed some onto your face. “your apartment's a mess? i wonder why that is… almost like your girlfriend was doing all the work around the house for you?”
a soft, frustrated groan escaped his lips at your sarcasm. he swallowed hard, his voice cracking, “listen, baby, 'm sorry for takin' you for granted, i want you back in my arms, i want to cuddle w'you like we used to. please, forgive me.”
a long pause hung heavy in the air, his breath hitching in his throat as he waited for your reply, hoping that you'd use what's left of your love for him–if any–to forgive him and return. with a tired sigh, you finally spoke up.
“... no, seishiro. i'm tired. being with you felt like a chore, to be honest. i was the one looking after you– making sure you ate your breakfast and lunch, doing your laundry that's scattered everywhere in your apartment, even reminding you to get off your video games. i'm not your mother...”
you let out all your pent-up frustration once and for all, hoping this would finally put an end to his persistent calls. it was clear you had reached your limit, knowing deep down that you deserved someone who appreciated your time and effort. 
“seriously, why don't you get yourself a maid? dating you was a hassle.”
you stated firmly before hanging up on him.
“dammit, angel…” nagi sighed defeatedly, his slumped body flopping down onto his bed. he lazily tossed his phone aside, feeling drained and overwhelmed. “i'm too tired for this.”
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୨ৎ 𝐃𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐎
“pleaase, come backkk,”
great. the last thing you had wanted today was to run into your ex as you stood in line at the popcorn stand. you wished the ground below you would rupture and swallow you whole as he clung onto you shamelessly, drawing the attention of those around you.
“please, baby, i need you!” he whined. you felt the embarrassment from his dramatic display heat up your cheeks, shifting uncomfortably as you mouthed apologetic words to the vendor lady.
“stop it, get off me, you're embarrassing me!” you hissed softly, trying to push his head away. his grip was too strong, maintaining his hold on you as his grin widened, revealing his shiny set of golden teeth.
“only if you get back with me?” he bargained, stepping back anyway as he sensed your growing irritation (and embarrassment).
you crossed your arms, shooting him an accusatory glare. “no way in hell. and you don't need me— you were after my money all along, weren't you?”
“t-that's... come on, don't be like that,” he stammered, his face paling as he avoided eye contact.
“you've only ever seen me as your personal walking credit card, hm?” you continued, “thank you, you've drained me of all my money.”
he watched as you received your medium-sized popcorn bucket, thanking the vendor with a polite nod before turning to leave. the lady called out his name, his own popcorn waiting on the counter, still unpaid for.
his head snaps back to you, that absurd, signature smirk curling on his lips, “wait, y/n, aren't you going to p–”
without turning to face him, you muttered under your breath, “no, i'm not paying for your popcorn.”
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୨ৎ 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐔
you felt a large pair of hands gently rest on your shoulders, giving them a slight squeeze. you stopped swirling your glass of wine, tilting your head up to meet a pair of beautiful, heterochromic eyes.
unfortunately, those eyes belonged to your fucking cheater of an ex.
“don't touch me, jerk,” you spat, cocking your head back down as you brought the glass to your lips and took a sip of the crimson drink.
he chuckled lowly, patting your head before shamelessly taking a seat beside you. wrapping his arm around the backrest of the sofa, he pulled you closer.
“c’mon, princess, don't be like that,” he winked, taking a sip of his own drink. he paused as he took in your irritated expression. “...are you really still mad at what happened a year ago?”
you shot him a dirty glare, and he immediately raised his hands in front of him in mock surrender. “sorry, sorry, i was only kidding.”
you finally downed the wine, standing up from the soft comfort of the sofa. before you could move away, his fingers encircled your wrist, pulling you back onto the couch, causing you to lean onto him with your hand on his chest.
“okay, but seriously, baby,” he said, delicately gripping your chin between his fingers and leaning in until his lips hovered right above yours. “i really messed up, i'm sorry, i swear she didn't mean anything, you're the one for m–”
“what the fuck do you think you're doing?!” you yelled, slapping his cheek hard enough to whip his head toward the dance floor where numerous women in skimpy outfits were dancing. his gaze lingered on their movements for a while before he felt you pulling away from him.
“yeah, i'm sure you're toootally torn up about it, huh?” you scoffed sarcastically, “keep your eyes wandering, i can see you're overflowing with regret.”
“baby, i only care for y–”
“your sincerity is blinding.”
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˗ˏˋ 𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗔𝗕𝗟𝗘 𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦 ˎˊ˗
𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐈 would never push you to the point of discomfort or pressure. instead, he’d approach you casually, genuinely apologizing for any past incidents that might have upset you enough to end things. if you both decided on a mutual break up, then he would definitely try to preserve your relationship to at least that of friends. his main focus would be rebuilding trust between you two, hoping that time and space would allow you both to reconcile in the future. overall, it would be very unlikely for him to verbally express how desperate he is for you, but subtle physical touches are a different topic.
𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐘𝐀 would literally show up at your doorstep, begging on his knees for you. he'd be desperately pleading for your forgiveness– he really didn't want to reveal that he had initially been dating you because of a dare, or rather, a bet from his friends. it just slipped out forcefully. he just really, really, really needed that ps5. despite the bet, his feelings for you had genuinely developed over the five-month dating period. however… to earn that prize, he was required to expose his original intent, resulting in heartbreaks, tears, insults, and many “i hate you”s from your side.
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© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !
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tomboy014 · 1 month ago
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But if Batman won't adopt Danny... who will?
Starfire, and she is all over her new little brother!
Shortly after establishing the Teen Titans, Robin (Dick) introduces “Phantom” to the group, because seriously, he’s not introducing him as “Danny.”  Kinda defeats the purpose of a secret identity when you use your name in your superhero moniker.  And shows Phantom his room.
Robin’s actual goal is to get Phantom to join the Titans, but even taking short cuts through the Ghost Zone, Jump City is still a good ways away from Amity Park, and he has parents, so… It’s still a nice gesture and all, and Phantom will come visit, but no.
Still, he’s never met other teens who are heroes in their own right like he is, so he’s excited to meet Robin’s new team.  The other Titans think it’s a little weird for this not-member to have his own room in the Tower, but the place is huge, and Robin trusts him, so it’s fine.  It’s a bit awkward at first as they’re all still getting used to each other, but Phantom quickly makes friends with all of them.
But it’s his friendship with Starfire that grows first and fastest.  As soon as he finds out she’s an alien from another planet, he latches on and must know everything.  Starfire more than welcomes the attention. While she knows the Titans care for her, they’re not always… receptive to the traditions and customs of her culture. Phantom, on the other hand, is enraptured as she tells him about her culture, her holidays, the planets she’s been to, everything.
So she asks if he’d be interested in learning Tamaranean? Yes! 100%! Absolutely! Phantom picks up the language quickly and returns the favor by helping Starfire with her English. While the ability to absorb language through lips is handy, it’s by no means perfect, and Phantom helps her with things like contractions, slang, idioms, etc.
It also helps that after a couple sparring sessions with each other, Phantom and Starfire realize just how durable their partner is.  For Starfire, the people and things on Earth can be so delicate. And for Phantom, if he doesn’t watch himself and hurts a human too badly, it’s just more justification to call him an “evil ghost” that should be ripped apart molecule by molecule. Both are thrilled to finally be able to fight all out again without worrying about the consequences if they lose. And Starfire also uses it to teach Phantom some Tamaranean martial arts for aerial combat so maybe he’ll stop crashing into so many walls.
But what really changes the relationship is the Body Swap incident (not to be confused with the Freaky Friday incident). Similar to what happened with the Puppet King in Switched, Phantom and Starfire switch bodies while fighting an enemy.  Unlike what happened in Switched, Phantom and Starfire and two teen powerhouses with green energy powers triggered by emotions. And the emotional triggers they use are in the same ballpark. Starfire’s “unbridled joy of flight” to fly is very similar to how Phantom revels in the pure freedom of flight he feels. Both get angry when they use blasts. It’s very much a “if you believe in it, you can do it” kind of power set. Starfire can’t really figure out Phantom’s more ghostly abilities like invisibility or intangibility, but they very quickly adapt to each other’s shared powers on the fly during battle.  But there’s one power Starfire wants to use against the hordes of minions that Phantom won’t share the trigger for: the Ghostly Wail.  He tries to tell her it’s not a good move, that it’ll use up too much power, it should only be used as a last resort, it’ll cause too much collateral damage, etc., but Starfire wants to know, and eventually he tells her.
“T-terror… and desperation.”
Starfire rushes to give Phantom the biggest hug ever because those are such horrible feelings, and she doesn’t want to imagine what conditions must have led to him developing such a power because no one should have to feel such feelings. He is right; and that is not a power she needs to use to win this battle.  The minions are defeated, the villain is forced into a temporary retreat, and the Teen Titans return to the Tower to regroup and plan.
However, Starfire doesn’t know how to power through and hold onto Phantom’s ghostly form, and as soon as the adrenaline from the fight wears off, rings of white light spread out of her middle, and Phantom turns back into Danny in the middle of the living room.
But more importantly, everyone needs to get out of the way RIGHT NOW because while Phantom can ignore his biological needs for days, Danny can’t, and Starfire has never had to pee this badly ever in her whole life and everyone needs to MOVE, PLEASE! as she rushes into the nearest bathroom.
Phantom/Danny is now panicking, because even as an alien, he’s pretty sure she’s bound to notice that some bits of male anatomy that should be there are… missing.  He’s begging her, through the door in Tamaranean, not to tell anyone about his secret.  He’s not ready to come out yet, and he’s honestly pretty scared he’s about to lose her friendship, too.  Starfire doesn’t really care. So long as you’re a strong warrior, Tamaraneans don’t care what’s going on in someone’s pants, and she’s just relieved she didn’t have to figure out different plumbing while in his body.  Starfire opens the door.  While she knows that the people of Earth are not always as understanding, Danny need not fear her.  She will not tell anyone he's trans until he is ready to tell them himself and supports him and goes in for a hug.
Except you haven’t washed your hands; gross!  They both laugh it off, but when Starfire goes to wash her hands, the water freezes.  The cold energy in Danny’s core is building, and Starfire doesn’t know how to let it out.  They need to switch back to their own bodies soon, or Danny’s body, and Starfire, might not survive.  A little more training so Starfire can turn back into Phantom, and the Titans are ready for the final act, take down the final villain and Starfire and Phantom are back in their own bodies. 
But after that, Phantom is no longer Starfire’s friend.  Danny is her little brother, and she tells him her name is Koriand’r, or Kor’i for short.
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hard-core-super-star · 3 months ago
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push me on the counter, call me princess [W.Maximoff; N.Romanoff]
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pairing: dom!wanda maximoff x sub!reader x dom!natasha romanoff
summary: you and wanda develop a connection you definitely shouldn't have with someone in a relationship. unbeknowst to you, it's all part of their plan.
warnings: PURE SMUT, MINORS DO NO INTERACT -> mentions of cheating! [no actual cheating, though! wandanat have an agreement, R doesn't know about it until things get spicy]; mommy + daddy kink; nipple play; impact play; wanda using her powers to hold R down; fingering [R receiving]; oral [Nat receiving]; twinges of humiliation; degradation + praise; nat's a little mean but we love her for it; use of the term 'slut'; probably more but i forgot
wordcount: 3.3k
a/n: so...i'm technically not doing anything official for kinktober this year because school is kicking my butt already BUT i have a few ideas for some very filthy smut fics so i'll be posting them this month. i haven't written for wandanat in a minute so i hope i did them justice. please let me know your thoughts, i hope you enjoy <3
* * * * * * *
It was supposed to be a one time thing.
That's what you told Wanda when she pushed you against the farthest wall in some dingy, badly-lit, New York bar.
The two of you had come back from a long, draining, mission and, instead of staying at the Compound and actually resting, you decided to go out and get drunk to let off some steam. The mission had technically been a success, but it had also been a pain in the ass...and in the shoulder, thanks to the knife wound you'd received.
So, yeah, maybe going out wasn't the best idea in the first place.
In your defense, it was borderline impossible to say no to the witch. Mainly because she was very convincing when she wanted to be, but also because of your massive, and borderline ridiculous, crush on her.
To make matters worse, Wanda was pissed off at Natasha for...something and you ended up taking the place of a supportive partner.
It would have been fine had the drinks in your system not made your inhibitions lower significantly, which rendered you helpless against the green-eyed woman of your dreams. Then again, it's not like you were particularly against that idea in the first place.
Maybe that made you a horrible person.
Maybe that made Wanda a monster.
But how could she be one when she whispered the sweetest words in your ear while taking you over the edge and destroying you in the most pleasurable of ways? How could there be anything wrong about her soft caresses and gentle smiles?
A part of you knows the answer. It's wrong because the witch's heart isn't yours. Or worse, because someone else's heart belongs to the witch.
Because for all their problems and arguments, Wanda and Natasha love each other. At the very least, they tolerate each other enough to stay together.
And you don't fit into their relationship.
You shouldn't.
But Wanda isn't a person you can just ignore.
She makes that perfectly clear no less than a week after your little "mistake".
You're in the kitchen at the Compound, eating some leftovers and scrolling through your phone to keep yourself occupied, when Wanda walks in. You don't need to look at her to know she's pissed off. Her energy is way too heavy to mean anything else.
"Hey, Wands," you say, barely looking up from your phone out of fear of falling under her spell once more.
She walks over to you, leaning against the counter and silently watching you for a second. Her silence honestly scares you, but you don't question her yet. You know better than that.
"You've been avoiding me," she says, her voice soft yet not gentle. "Why is that?"
A shiver runs down your spine at the question. 
You know you can't lie to her, she's a freaking mind reader, but you can't exactly tell her the truth. You've both been trying to ignore it since the morning you woke up tangled together in her bed.
A bed she shares with someone who isn't you.
"I've been busy," you reply with a shrug. "Kate's been forcing me to train every day."
Clearly, that's the wrong answer, considering the tilt of her head.
Yup. You're fucked now.
"Is that so? I didn't realize you two were such good...friends."
Wanda pushes herself off the counter, taking slow, calculated, steps until she's standing behind you. If you weren't so focused on keeping your voice steady, you might have been able to guess what her plan in.
"Well, we both love annoying Clint and making Yelena mad."
She hums in response as her arms wrap themselves around you, pulling you back until you're firmly pressed against her. 
The action almost makes you fall off your stool. You somehow stay put, though, even as every fiber of your being tells you to leave. The harsh truth is that you don't want to leave.
You want her so badly that the consequences don't seem to matter.
Nothing matters but her.
Which is exactly what she wants.
"You should be careful with the little archer," she says, her hands not so subtly caressing your sides. "You know she's just going to use you then throw you away when she's bored."
The irony in her words isn't lost on you.
You open your mouth to let her know that when her hands move up and brush against your chest. It takes all your willpower to stop yourself from gasping.
"Wanda," you hiss. "We're in the middle of the kitchen."
"Relax, detka," she whispers into your ear, your body instantly obeying her words. "You know I won't let anyone see."
"Do I?" you reply. "Because it seems exactly like something you'd enjoy."
The witch chuckles despite herself. "That's true but you're not the only trying to keep things a secret."
You know her words should make you feel worse about this whole thing but right now, they only serve to turn you on. As messed up as it is, there's something exciting about the situation. 
About how much Wanda wants you.
So, even though you know you should push her away, you lean back against her, allowing her hands to explore your body however she wishes.
Your obedience (if you can even call it that) is instantly rewarded by the other woman. Her hands sneak their way under your shirt, her fingers drawing teasing shapes on your warm skin as she makes the journey upward.
"You're such a good girl for me, baby," she mumbles almost absent-mindedly. "Letting me use you like this. Letting me play with you whenever I want."
A part of you wants to put up a fight. To show her you have a bigger backbone than she realizes. That you're able to switch the tables on her whenever you want.
Unfortunately, that part of you goes quiet the second her fingers find your nipples. "Look at you, all ready for me, huh?"
"Shut up," you mumble as your cheeks heat up.
Your words of defiance earn you a sharp pinch to your already sensitive nipples. "Watch your mouth, sweetheart."
It's impossible to stop your back from arching as the leftover sting rushes through your system. You'd learned the hard way that Wanda could either be the sweetest or the most unforgivable lover. In a way, it made being with her all the more exciting...and unpredictable.
Then again, you can't pretend you don't like it. If you didn't, you would have never gotten mixed up with her in the first place.
"Sorry," you whisper, not sounding particularly sincere.
If Wanda notices, she doesn't point it out and instead goes right back to playing with your chest, squeezing and pinching your nipples as she pleases.
Her actions only serve to make you more and more desperate for her. It's almost embarrassing how good she is at reading you. At knowing exactly what buttons to push to turn you into a shaking, pleading mess.
A part of you knows it's thanks to her powers that she can read your desires so well, but you ignore the thought for now. You could beat yourself up over all this later, right now, you had a very important task ahead of you.
"You're eager today," she teases, her eyes zeroing in on the slight movement of your hips. "Did you miss me that much?"
You're not sure why you're in such a defiant mood today but your mouth moves way faster than your thoughts. "Yeah, Kate was too busy today."
You don't see the scarlet that begins to overtake her eyes since you have your back to her. You miss the warning signs until she uses her magic to bend you over the counter, keeping your hands behind your back.
"You're going to regret talking to me like that," she says, holding you down easily thanks to her magic.
It's obvious you should apologize and yet you remain as composed as you possibly can given the situation. As stupid as it is, you're still mad at her for putting you in this situation.
Out of the two of you, she was the one who was in the wrong. She was the one fucking up her relationship just because she was upset with her girlfriend. And she had the audacity to pull you down with her.
To make you like it.
You couldn't place all the blame on her and yet you did it anyway. As if that would somehow fix the entire situation.
Her hand comes down on your ass before you can make your predicament worse. The sudden sensation makes you jump, the leftover sting taking over your mind.
"Wanda." Your attempt to sound mad falls completely flat since your voice is far too breathless for it to be convincing.
She spanks you again. Once. Twice. Each time striking both harder and faster.
"Try again, detka," she tells you, her voice unforgiving. "And then maybe, I'll go easy on you."
She won't.
You know she won't. But the idea that she could is more than tantalizing enough.
Although, then again, it wasn't like you didn't enjoy calling her by her beloved title.
"Mommy," you whisper, your voice sounding way too loud in the empty kitchen.
You don't need to be looking at her to see the proud grin that takes over her features.
This is the real reason why she wants you. Why she likes being with you. Because she doesn't need to fight you to get you to submit to her every whim.
"Good girl." Wanda's hands toy with the waistband of your pants. "Tell me what you want."
You allow the silence to drag on for a second longer than necessary. You both know you won't deny her, you can't, but that doesn't mean you can't keep her guessing. 
Maybe then she'll grow tired of you and stop using you so carelessly.
"Want you to touch me...please, mommy."
You half expect her to drag the moment out until you can't hold yourself back from begging for more. For her.
She doesn't, though, because unbeknownst to you, she's playing a different kind of game with you today.
Wanda uses her powers to undress you, barely giving you a second to register just how vulnerable she's leaving you. You know no one will walk in on you two, she promised you that much, but that doesn't make it any less scary...and thrilling.
"Look at you," she coos, her fingers spreading your slick folds. "So wet and I've barely even touched you. Such a needy thing, aren't you, sweetheart?"
It's embarrassing how hard your walls clench around pure air from the mere tone of her voice. It's that intoxicating mix between degrading and sweet that you want everything she's willing to give you.
"Yes, mommy," you whimper.
"Oh, I know," she says, pushing the tip of her index finger into your tight cunt. "She's such a good girl, isn't she?"
Your eyebrows furrow in confusion but her powers hold you down and stop you from turning to look at her. Your question is answered before you can even ask it, though, as a certain pair of black boots make their way into your field of vision.
"I'm not sure." The sound of Natasha's voice sends a shiver down her spine. "She looks like a desperate slut to me."
Wanda stops you from answering, thanks to her powers. "Oh, come on, Nat, don't be mean. Look how eager she is to be played with."
The redhead rolls her eyes. "That just proves my point."
The witch laughs, taking the moment to sink her finger deeper into your pussy, relishing the wet sounds that fill the kitchen. You're more than a little humiliated, but there's nothing you can do to stop it. Worse, there's nothing you can do to deny how wet the situation is making you.
How desperate you are for more.
Wanda knows. Of course, she knows. It's partly because of her powers and partly because she knows your body far too well. And because she knows you so well, she gives you a chance to call the whole thing off before it even truly starts.
"What's your color, y/n?"
It would be so easy to say "red" and stop everything. You know there would be zero judgement. That despite whatever agreement they've come to, they'd both take a step back and make sure you were okay.
And yet...you can't seem to form the word.
Because, as much as you don't want to admit it...you want this.
"Green..." you whisper.
Wanda leans in, taking your mind off of Natasha's eyes on you, and peppers soft kisses across your back. The softness of her lips is a stark contrast to her previous demeanor and it helps calm down your speeding nerves.
The Russian steps forward, her hand cupping your face and gently tilting it backward until your eyes meet. "You want this, don't you, darling?"
You don't want to admit it but you can't bring yourself to lie to her. "Yes...I want this."
The sharpness in her eyes fades away slightly. There's still an edge of annoyance in her features but she looks almost as turned on as you feel. "Good girl."
Your walls clench around Wanda's finger and she chuckles before starting to move in and out of your tight heat. "I think she likes you, Nat."
"Shut up."
Wanda adds another finger into the mix, expertly stretching you out and drawing out a long moan from your parted lips. "That's it, just give in, sweetheart. Doesn't it feel better when you stop thinking so much?"
It's startling how right she is.
She doesn't wait for an answer this time, though, she simply speeds up her movements, curling her fingers in the way that drives you crazy. The pleasure slowly overwhelms your mind, removing all other thoughts until all you can focus on is how good it all feels. How much you like submitting to them like this.
"Mommy..." You whine, watching the way Natasha's eyes darken in response to your sounds. "Please...need more."
"Aw, are two fingers not enough for you, baby?" The fake pity in her tone turns you on more than it should. "Does your greedy pussy need more?"
You nod desperately, ignoring the humiliation that lingers in your every move.
All that earns you is another laugh from Wanda and an eye roll from Natasha.
The redhead steps back from you, causing you to whimper, before her hands move to her belt. Her eyes remain on yours as she starts removing her garments, slowly revealing the red strap-on resting between her legs.
Your lips part almost instantly once you catch sight of the full size of it and just how incredibly dominant it makes Natasha look. You shouldn't be surprised considering what everyone, including Wanda, always say about her. Then again, seeing is believing.
"So fucking eager, aren't you?" You know the Russian is technically making fun of you, but you can't help feeling a bit proud of yourself for the grin on her face.
She steps forward, her hands coming up to tangle in your hair and guide you forward. There's something weirdly soft about her movements, about the way she takes her time with you. Maybe, just maybe, she likes you more than she's let on.
You wrap your lips around the head of the dildo, your eyes glued to Natasha's face. You can see the flecks of pleasure spreading across her features, the way she clenches her jaw to stop herself from vocalizing it. It's like you're stuck in a far too arousing competition with her. Each of you trying your damn harderst to break the other.
Unfortunately for you, you also have Wanda working behind you, her fingers restlessly pumping in and out of your soaked entrance. She knows exactly how to wind you up. 
Exactly how to keep you on your toes yet wanting more.
Natasha guides you further down her cock, working the length deeper into your mouth. "You look so much better like this, malyshka."
"I told you," Wanda pipes up, choosing that exact moment to work another finger into your tight heat. "You just wanted to be a party pooper."
"Keep talking like that and you'll be next, Maximoff."
"You're no fun."
You've never heard Wanda like this. So pouty and borderline bratty. It's a stark contrast to the dominant woman you've grown so attached to. To the one that turns your brain to putty with just a few words.
"Don't get any ideas, sweetheart. Mommy's still in charge here."
You moan in response, the sound muffled by the dildo currently stuffing your mouth.
"If you're Mommy," Natasha says, starting to thrust into your mouth. "Does that make me Daddy?"
You try to voice your approval for the title but neither of the women pay attention to you. They just keep talking like you're not even there, like all you are is a toy for them to play with.
"I thought you didn't like being called that."
The redhead shrugs in response. "I don't but now I'm curious."
"I think our good girl would like it."
You wait for Natasha to complain and say something about how you aren't theirs. Maybe make fun of you again for even thinking they'd ever entertain that idea.
She doesn't, though.
All she does is double her efforts as she keeps thrusting into your mouth. 
The kitchen fills with the sounds of your pleasure as they both play with your needy holes.
You feel yourself growing closer and closer to the edge, the coil in your stomach getting tighter with each one of their well-timed thrusts. You're completely at their mercy and you love every second of their never-ending show of dominance.
Of control over you.
Wanda's movements speed up and you do your best to ask for permission to cum, knowing all too well the consequences that would await you if you forgot. It's practically impossible to speak, though, considering the way Natasha is still thrusting into your mouth, her hips grinding against the base of the dildo each time she slips the length back inside.
"I know, baby," the witch reassures you. "You want to cum so bad, don't you?"
All she gets is a muffled whine in response, your body jerking forward when her thumb teases your swollen clit.
"Go ahead, darling," Natasha speaks up, her voice practically a low growl. "Cum all over Mommy's fingers for me."
You're not used to receiving such a command from the redhead and yet your body reacts immediatly to her tone. Your whole body seems to come alive as you fall over the edge, Wanda's fingers never ceasing in their movements. She expertly draws out your pleasure until you're left shaking and panting. 
The ringing in your ears doesn't allow you to hear the string of moans that leave Natasha's mouth as she watches the scene. The sight of you coming undone so violently causes her to fall apart, her fingers tightening in your hair until you're sputtering for air.
Thankfully, Wanda knows your limits well.
No words are exchanged as she uses her magic on you again. You're barely coherent, your mind still too muddled by pure pleasure and the cotton-filled haze of submission.
She gently sets you down on the couch, wiping down your soaked skin with a wet cloth, making sure to look you over in case their rough movements bruised you up.
"You okay, darling?" The witch asks as she settles down next to you.
You nod in response, shifting a little until your head rests in her lap. "Yeah...just tired."
"You should get some rest, detka. We have a lot to talk about."
Her words make you laugh. "That's an understament, Wands."
"Whatever." She moves her hand down to run her fingers through your hair, gently scratching your scalp as sleep overcomes you.
There's a lot you don't understand, a lot you really figure out, but you feel safe with the knowledge that you haven't ruined anything. That you're not an intruder in their relationship. If anything, you're a welcome addition.
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luveline · 7 months ago
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Can I please get the aftermath of a fight with Hotch? Maybe they’re both stressed after a particular case and things got a little heated?
ty for requesting !! fem, 1k
You hate when Hotch shouts. 
Morose, you lay in a slouch on the couch with your hand between your face and the armrest, knuckles aching from the pressure. You’re attempting to self soothe, but your misery is worsened by your own ministrations, your thumb a useless thing on your cheek. You can’t do it like Hotch can. There’s no second meaning. 
You assume him to be in the kitchen where you left him. 
Nobody likes to fight, but you think you might be the most unwilling participant for any argument with him. He’s patient, and mellow-headed the majority of the time, so when he does get heated you can’t help thinking you’ve done something really awful.
You get the worst of worries sitting there. That you’re too much effort for him, that you don’t fit. That he’s going to realise these things and cut you loose. 
Your tears are lazy. Your shoulders shudder with your breathing, but there isn't a sound to them, just heat where they well at the corner of your eye and drip over your nose. You sniffle, pressing the back of your hand to your top lip. 
It’s cold in the living room. Immediately hotter when Hotch sits down beside you. You lift your head on instinct, surprised at his sudden presence, tears jolting down your cheeks like flash floods. When you realise it’s him and what you’re doing, you turn your face back to the armrest with held breath. 
He hesitates for a moment.
“Please don’t be mad at me,” you mumble. 
He drapes himself over your contorted frame. Arm weaving under your stomach, face pressing firmly to the nape of your neck, his right hand on your shoulder. “Don’t cry,” he says, hand working into your tense shoulder blade lovingly, his thumb drawing lines. “Don’t cry.” 
“Are you still angry?” 
“No,” he says, his voice ladened with a light sincerity, “I’m not angry.” 
You feel like he’s holding back. Upset again, you attempt to find his hand where it’s cupping the space just below your chest and hold it weakly, smaller fingers on his, looking for a better forgiveness. It doesn’t come. You cry so much it starts to make you feel sick, and concern your weary partner, his frown getting deeper where it’s pressed to your neck. 
“I’m not mad,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry for yelling, honey, is that what’s upset you?” 
You just hate the idea that he could feel against you. It’s like a mixture of regret, anger, and now frustration, because you hadn’t wanted to cry at all, much less be comforted. Although, admittedly, the comforting is holding you together. 
“Come on,” he says, kissing your cheek between words, “let’s sit up before you hurt your back.” 
He sits back and pulls at your arm until you're sitting upright on the sofa. Your gaze falls to your legs, your hand curled uselessly on your thigh, your tears slowly pooling and falling in succession. You scrunch your face up as another wave of misery hits you. 
“I’m s-sorry,” you say. 
“For what?” he asks, far less emotional than you, and yet not completely stony, either. 
“I didn’t mean to cry.” You bring your hand to your face to wipe at your tears and runny nose, irked, not wanting him to see you. 
“It’s okay,” he murmurs.
Hotch leans down to kiss your shoulder, which works to calm you down. Another kiss to your neck and your horrible cloud of emotion starts to clear. 
He can’t hate you if he’s kissing you. 
“I’m sorry I made it a fight,” Hotch says, “I never would have if I thought you’d get this upset.” 
“We can’t not fight just because I might cry.” 
“That’s exactly why we shouldn’t. I never want to make you cry.” 
“I hate when you–” You cut yourself off, the confession sure to make you look small. 
“What?” he prompts gently.
“I hate when you yell because– because you never do.” 
He’d only raised his voice for a few words, and it hadn’t been to your discredit, he’d been telling you to leave it alone. Perhaps if he’d been insulting you it would make sense for you to cry this much, but yelling is part of any argument. You can’t work out why it’s affected you. 
“I feel so stupid,” you confess. 
“I’m sorry, honey,” he says, wrapping his arm behind your back to pull you flush to his side, “I don’t know how it got so out of hand. You’re never stupid, I’m just stubborn. I shouldn’t shout.” 
You twist to be facing him. He frowns at your wet cheeks. 
“Do you want to kiss and make up?” you ask tentatively. 
Hotch doesn’t roll his eyes or laugh at your question —he can tell you’re being serious. “Can we?” he asks, cupping your cheek in his hand. 
He rubs a loving line into the side of your face, and every tight string in you is cut. You kiss him quickly, worried it’ll be a bad one, but find yourself encouraged for a longer one by his hand, your eyes squeezed closed in stress relaxing the longer it goes on. He’s gentle with you, his lips parting atop yours. 
He pulls away. You hide your face in the curve of his neck. 
“Can you forgive me for being cruel?” he asks quietly. 
“You’re not cruel, Aaron. I hate being on a different side from you, that’s all.” 
His first name makes all the difference to him. He sneaks a couple of kisses into your temple and begins to relax as you have, two sad lumps on the couch who only want the comfort of the other. 
You rub loving lines up and down his side, finally feeling better as he breathes his own sigh of relief. 
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ellecdc · 6 months ago
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hello darling! I was wondering if I could request poly! marauders where they come home late or something and she’s asleep, but they discover her cuddling a stuffed animal for the first time and she gets all shy and embarassed but they think it’s adorable!!!
I have this stuffed animal I’ve had since I was little and as a 24 year I still cuddle him.
totally didn't write this based off of the little stuffed toy I still have on my bed.......
Scout's Honour
poly!marauders x fem!reader who still sleeps with a stuffed animal
CW: boys are maybe tipsy when they get home, reader feels shy and insecure for a second, Sirius makes that horrible Sirius/serious joke, James x Sirius get frisky at the end but nothing described
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Up until this point, Remus felt as though he had done a pretty good job keeping the boys quiet in their trek to the bedroom.
All that effort was for naught, it seemed, as Remus grimaced whilst he watched Sirius basically belly-flop face first onto the mattress, causing you to be jostled - quite violently - awake.
“What the-?” You gasped; eyes darting around nervously before they landed on your three boyfriends.
But no sooner had your face relaxed did you look alarmed again before quickly readjusting the blankets around you. 
“You okay, dovey?” Remus asked then. “Sorry for waking you.” He added, pointedly glaring at his long-haired boyfriend who looked quite pleased at his plans of having all of his partners awake at once come to fruition. 
“S’okay.” You responded; vowels and consonants running together as your mouth tried to keep up with the speed at which your brain was functioning. 
“Outside clothes, Jamie.” Remus quickly chided then as James tried to sneak under the covers to join you.
This seemed to perk you up for some reason, and unfortunately for you, not one of the boys missed the way your hand darted nervously under the blankets.
“My, my, what were you up to?” Sirius taunted salaciously, eyes immediately moving towards his ‘favourite’ bedside drawer.
“She was asleep, Pads.” James slurred as he nearly fell in his attempt to free himself from his jeans.
“Yes, until someone so rudely woke her.” Remus added.
Sirius did appear to go bashful then, turning to look at you apologetically. “Sorry, doll.”
“But if you’re not- fuck, if you’re not hiding something fun.” James interrupted himself as he tripped over nothing before he finally weaselled his way under the covers. “What are you hiding?”
“M’not hiding anything.” You argued petulantly, looking at Remus as you answered James’ question as if he would somehow protect you from further questioning.
And though Remus could protect you from further questioning, he had to admit he found himself just as curious. 
“It’s a surprise for me, isn’t it?” Sirius queried haughtily then as he changed into his pyjamas. 
“It’s not for you.” You groaned; sleep-addled brain not capturing that you sort of gave away that you were, indeed, hiding something. 
“What d’you have there, dovey?” Remus asked finally, moving to stand above you on your side of the bed and tipping your head back so he could press a kiss to your lips. 
You brought your hands up to hold Remus’ wrists as you reciprocated the kiss, but made a reluctant sound in the back of your throat when he wouldn’t let you turn and look away from him. 
“Oh my goodness!” James shrilled then, causing both you and Remus to turn your attention to your slightly tipsy boyfriend who was now holding a tiny plush dog in his hands. “She’s so cute!”
“James!” You shrieked; tearing yourself from Remus’ hold as you made for James.
For as uncoordinated as James had been mere moments ago, the sight of you lunging at him seemed to reawaken some dormant muscle memory from his time on the school rugby team as he hastily tossed the toy to Sirius. 
Sirius - not prepared in the slightest for a game of catch at such an hour of the morning - let it hit him in the side of the head before it fell unceremoniously to the ground. He quickly collected it though and moved behind Remus in hopes of protection from you as he inspected the worn and well-loved looking toy. 
“Is this a stuffie?” Sirius asked then, turning the plush dog to examine it. “Babe, that’s so cute!”
“Give it here.” You demanded; eyes wild, now fully awake as you stared at Sirius imploringly. 
“But-”
“Sirius, please.”
“Dovey.” Remus began cautiously, bending at the waist in an attempt to make eye contact with you. “Hey, dove.” He continued when you didn’t respond. 
You reluctantly pulled your gaze away from Sirius in order to appease Remus. 
“We’re not making fun of you.”
“Yes you are.” You whispered miserably, causing any teasing from James and Sirius to drop immediately. 
“Nonono.” James chanted as he army crawled his way across the bed to you. “M’so sorry, angel. I was making fun, but I wasn’t trying to make fun of.” 
“I wasn’t lying, doll; I really do think this is so cute.” Sirius added.
You didn’t seem to agree, however, when your bottom lip jutted out and your shoulders slumped.
“Baby.” James moaned sympathetically. “I’m sorry.”
You reluctantly leaned into James’ side as he all but draped himself over you. 
“Dove, why have we never seen this before?” Remus asked as he took the pilfered toy from Sirius’ hands and inspected it himself. 
“‘Cause it’s embarrassing.” You moaned. 
“It’s cute.” Sirius argued.
“It’s childish.” You countered. 
“It’s human, sweetheart.” Remus declared before handing the plush dog back to you. “I still have my teddy from when I was a kid.”
“Yeah, packed up in a box somewhere.” You deadpanned.
“That’s only because he roomed in a dorm with three boys back in school who would’ve razzed him mercilessly for it.” Sirius offered.
“Yeah, and now I’m sleeping with them.” You responded as you looked down at the plush in your hands. 
“Who have grown and matured, surely; you wouldn’t be sleeping with them otherwise.” Sirius said as he sat at the end of your bed and nudged your knee with his. 
“What’s her name?” Remus asked then as he nodded to the aged stuffed animal. 
You glared half-heartedly at him in response. 
“I’m serious, dove-” Remus started before catching himself none-too-quickly.
“No, I’m Sirius.” Sirius cut in; smiling proudly as his three partners glared at him. 
Remus sucked in an exasperated yet loving breath as he turned his attention back to you. “This little thing was - is - obviously important to you; so what’s her name?”
You sighed in defeat as you turned it over in your hand. “It’s a him.” You corrected petulantly. 
“Terrible sorry, good sir.” James offered graveley; nodding his head so deep that he nearly lost his glasses. 
You breathed out a chuckle as you looked up shyly. “His name’s Scout.” You offered in a whisper; your answer being rewarded by cooing from your boyfriend’s.
“That’s so cute.” James repeated.
“I can’t believe you’ve loved another man before me.” Sirius teased with an unimpressed shake of his head. “And he’s been in my home this whole time?”
You turned bashful again and looked at Sirius timidly. “Erm, I’ve sort of been hiding him between the mattress and boxspring.” 
Remus threw his head back in laughter as he finally had an answer as to why your side of the bed was so lumpy.
“Another man!? In my bed!?” Sirius teased as he clutched at non-existing pearls. “And you didn’t even introduce us!?” 
“For shame, angel.” James added with a disappointed shake of his head. “I know the bed is small, but there was certainly room for one more.” He continued as he booped ‘Scout’s’ nose with the tip of his finger. 
“That’s right.” Remus agreed readily as he stood to change into his own pyjamas. “No more hiding that cutie from us sweet girl.” 
“Yeah, I already like him more than Sirius.” James joked, earning him a scolding ‘hey!’ from both you and Remus and an indignant scoff from Sirius before Sirius bodily tackled him on the bed. 
“That’s not what you were saying last night there, handsome!” Sirius laughed as he jabbed his fingers into James’ ribs where he was most ticklish. “Take it back!”
“No!” 
“Tell me you love me!”
“I love Scout more!”
“You little-” Sirius started, but he never got to finish when he pulled his boyfriend into a searing kiss.
What had started out as laughter and playful wrestling was quickly becoming heated and then bordering pornographic when you turned to look at Remus who was simply watching in exasperation.
“Should you, me, and Scout have a cwtch on the couch, dove?” 
You chuckled as you gathered a throw blanket and Scout from the bed, and trotted out the door with Remus as you left your boyfriends to tire each other out. 
Remus really couldn't imagine the four of you making room for another again, but he was more than happy to share you with Scout and he knew the same could be said for Sirius and James.
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blockedbykei · 6 months ago
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𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐏 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐎𝐖
🏐— tsukishima kei x f!reader
— synopsis: he hates your intelligence in classrooms and you hate his cunnigness at the court. both go at great lengths to defeat each other, but how is it that both of you were the only ones that can help each other be better?
— warnings: swearing, a bit suggestive, enemies to lovers (although kind of enemies)
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You slam your paper on his desk.
Tsukishima barely flinches. He removes his headphones and hangs them on his neck, unbothered by your looming presence as he stares blankly at your paper. 96
The corners of his lips tug down, seemingly unimpressed. "Eh."
"Eh? Aw, is little Tsukishima disappointed at himself?"
He looks up at you, stares deeply into your eyes. And for a moment you'd think his domineering gaze would soften as he was overawed by you. But then he smiles, that annoying little shitty, narcissistic smile.
"Actually, not at all (l/n)," his smile is bright, almost genuine, but his sarcasm is radiating. "I got a 98. Not bad, though!"
You swear steam was coming off your body.
"96 at modern Japanese." He says. "Understandable."
"Understandable?!"
"Don't beat yourself up, (l/n). Not everyone's perfect," he leans back. "Not even me. I mean, I'm just being humble. But yeah, not everyone."
"I hate you," you take your paper off his desk.
"Flattered. Really, really flattered. Thank you for hating me, actually. I feel so honored to be hated." He puts his headphones back on and places his elbows on his desk, his chin resting on his joint fists. Tsukishima smiles at you again.
God, his smile is infuriating.
Tsukishima was someone you'd go to great lengths to defeat. He never bothered for your existence when first year began. He didn't even know your name; Didn't even look at your direction. He'd only known it a month later when you were paired to be partners and he decided to be such a condescending brat when he pointed out your handwriting.
At first you ignored it, took it by heart and started organizing your writings on your notes. Then he decided to put all his self-hatred on you and started to discreetly judge you.
Maybe he wasn't even judging you. Maybe he was just staring at your paper, scoffed to himself, shook his head and laughed because you got a better score than him and he was berating himself. But no, he laughed because he thought you were a tryhard and he was a prodigy.
Obviously none of those were confirmed. But he's a man and a man hates it when a woman's happy.
When he smirks you have the urge to rip his lips to pieces.
You walk away from him and sit on your desk, which was actually beside him.
His scent follows your flaring nostrils as you carefully shove your paper between the notebooks in your bag. Tsukishima looks out the window, hiding his smirk, his foot tapping lightly but never making sound. So you put your own headphones over your ears, in hopes to drown out his deafening aura.
🏐 —
"Shit!"
Tsukishima's knees bends the wrong way and almost falls onto his back as he lands on the ground. The ball echoes across the court as it ricochets off the floor. You laugh loudly, and everyone looks at you.
"You're too advanced for the block, idiot!" You say loudly. Yamaguchi giggles.
He rolls his eyes at you as he chases for the ball. Kageyama sits beside you.
"You know he plays horribly when you're here."
"Oh?" You raise a brow. "Is he not used to a girl looking at her?"
Kageyama scratches his nose. "Probably 'cause he hates you."
You laugh lightly. "Kinda nice that I'm here. I get to see him fuck up."
Kageyama snorts. "He feels pressured 'cuz you're here."
"Oh? He said that?"
"No. But I can hear him think."
You laugh and wipe your sweat off. "I'd play with you guys, but his remarks could piss me off and I might, uh, shove that ball up his ass."
When Kageyama laughs again, quite loudly, Tsukishima's head snaps at the bench where you're sitting. Heat rises to his head, his stance losing its usual strength, his arms weakening as he watches you—
Laughing, at some joke you said or Tobio said. Laughing heartily like someone just made the best joke in the world. The way your lips almost reach the wrinkles beneath your eyes. Oh, that's so funny Tobio. You're so funny you should quit volleyball and be a stand up comedian!
He knows you're talking shit about him, too. Idiot. Brat. Showoff.
He had the right to show off. He was better than you.
He was the better thinker; the better scorer.
Tsukishima is better than you.
I'm better than you—
The ball hits the side of his face, his glasses flailing to the side.
The first thing that reaches his ears—your sickening laugh. That monstrous, sadistic guffaw. Tanaka yells from the other side of the court and dives beneath the net to take a look at his face. Nishinoya hovers, hands on his knees, laughing.
"Pay attention, dumbass!" You cuff your hands over your mouth. "Stop daydreaming! It's embarrassing."
He bends to pick his glasses up. Alive, no cracks, frame not broken. He puts it on the bridge of his nose so that he could see your face clearly.
Hideously alluring.
"Do you think of scheming as daydreaming, (l/n)?" his voice, full of disdain, though hidden through feigned sweetness. "Like a child as always. Go back to middle school?"
"Do better at volleyball?"
"I ought to kick the both of you out this court," Daichi says loudly. "Oh wait I can't speak to (l/n) like that. S-sorry!"
Tsukishima sneers, his lips frowning. He approaches the rolling ball, watching as it hits the wall and propells back towards his awaiting feet. When he picks it up, he steals another glance at you talking to Kageyama.
The King and the Brat. The most annoying combination in the entirety of Karasuno campus.
Somehow, seeing you next to Kageyama and being given the nickname as if the two of you were a pair sends a tight rope around his chest that causes it to ache a little. Tsukishima huffs it out, an unsettling in his bones.
Please don't look at me.
The ball flies into the air, and his palm raises just in time to make contact with the ball.
He sees you watch from the corner of his eye, a blurried silhouette, but your figure was familiar enough for him to recognize you. His heart beats a little louder.
🏐 —
No.
Shit. Fuck. No
God damnit. 74.
Tsukishima stares at his paper in horror. In his entire life, he has always gotten two digits on his scores. However, they had always been ninety onwards. Never in the line of sevens. He doesn't know if his horror is displayed across his face. He prays it doesn't—he would die if you saw his expression.
He leans sideways to the right, his eye darting towards the side to peak at your paper.
98.
The english language was something that was easy to learn but never easy in exams. This—despite boasting that english was the easiest subject—was his weakness.
You're too preoccupied to notice his existence. Good.
He turns around to look at the green haired boy.
"Yamaguchi." He whisper-yelled. "Tadashi."
Yamaguchi looks up. "Yes?"
This was it. Years of built up pride, intelligence, boosted ego— down the drain. As soon as he'd ask him the question, it would forever alter the image of himself towards his friend. Tsukishima was no longer the brainy four-eyes of the Karasuno Volleyball Club.
He would now be Tsukishima, the idiot four-eyes.
Maybe I'm overreacting.
He stands up and sits beside the empty chair next to Yamaguchi.
"How- What's your score?"
Yamaguchi looks puzzled as he glances at his paper. "E-eighty eight."
God, this is depressing.
"Um," Tsukishima scratches the back of his neck. "Could you help me with English?"
There it is. His face says it all.
"Don't you even—"
"You, Tsukishima Kei, asking for my help?" He laughs incredulously. "Are you sure? What's your score?"
"Don't want to talk about it."
"Aw, c'mon Tsukki." He pouts playfully like comforting a weeping baby. "I'm sure it's not that bad."
Tsukishima tells him in a low voice. He never thought he could hate Yamaguchi's laugh. But he did, right after he laughed at his score. It wasn't even a failing grade.
"You know who should tutor you though?" He puts his paper in his bag. "(l/n). She's good, y'know. I heard her speak english once. I thought she was from, uh, some foreign country or something."
"She's not even that good." Tsukishima takes off his glasses and wipes it with the corner of his uniform. "She's good with memory but she forgets it right after the quiz like a ditz."
Yamaguchi snorts. "She's the one who got the best score out of all of us."
"Yeah, no thanks. I'd never let her teach me."
"I think you're forgetting I'm right here in front of you." You turn around, placing your elbow and forearm on the back of your chair and look at Tsukishima. "I can teach you."
Tsukishima scoffs. "No thanks. I'd rather repeat freshman year."
"Are you sure?" you pout, placing your chin on the back of your hand. "I can teach you, little Tsukishima."
"I'm not little."
"Yeah but your brain is."
"Yamaguchi, help me out here."
He can't ask for your help. Never ever. Never will he ever ask for your help. Tsukishima can study this himself. He's always studied by himself. He's never needed anyone, and certainly not you. He was independent, cunning as everyone says. Tsukishima does not need tutors.
Up until now.
"Please help Tsukishima study," Yamaguchi looks at you. "He's too prideful to ask but he really needs your help."
Tsukishima stammers. "T-that's not what I meant!"
"Aw, is this true?" You're taunting him. He feels like a child.
"I can study by myself. Fuck off."
You smile at him. In a way that he can't read. It was soft, almost kind, like you wanted to help him wholeheartedly and wanted his english to improve. Then he looked into your eyes and all the kindness in your smile had been washed away by this pity in your eyes that you enjoyed. Tsukishima huffs.
"No need to be shy about asking for help, little Tsukki," you coo. "We'll study in the locker room while everyone else plays. You're skipping practice today."
Tsukishima zips his bag and stands up. He towers over you, covering the sun that blinds you through the glass window. He looks down at your eyes—teasing, condescending eyes. His lips are turned to a frown, which makes you smile even more.
"I'm not skipping practice."
"Too bad. You are. You know, if you let me help you, you'd stop having that distraught face everytime you get your english paper." You take a step closer, neck bent backwards to look up at him. "Yeah, I saw your face."
Yamaguchi nudges his arm. "C'mon, Kei. Ask for her help. You know you need it. Don't be so prideful."
Tsukishima growls. He doesn't say anything yet, all the confidence in him washed away by a score that wasn't even a failing grade. His palm rubs the space between his eyebrows and mumbles:
"Help me."
You lean in, ear towards him. "Couldn't hear that. Sorry?"
"Help me study."
"Are you commanding me or asking?"
"Please help me study."
"Don't mumble, Tsukishima."
"Damn it!" He groans. "Please help me, dearest (l/n)." His voice drips in sarcasm, peering at you through his scratched lenses. "Help me get a better grade at english. Help me stop myself from strangling you! Idiot!"
You lean back, the bottom of your spine resting on your table as your left hand props you up. Tsukishima is almost seething, his eyes widened a little as his anger seethes through his nostrils. You hum, pretend to think, then slap his right cheek twice lightly.
"How kind of you to ask, little Tsukki." You wrinkle your nose at him, slinging your bag over your shoulder. "See you at the locker room."
When you leave, his head turns to Yamaguchi who smiles innocently. Tsukishima almost strangles him instead.
🏐—
The boys are thirty minutes late to practice. Including Daichi.
"It's the sequence of the words, Tsukishima," you point your pen at his test paper. "The spelling's no problem. You're good at it. It's just with how you've formed them together."
They all sit behind the two of you, watching silently. Tsukishima is red from embarrassment as he ignores them.
"What's so wrong about this sequence? It sounds correct."
"Just because it sounds correct doesn't mean that it is correct."
Hinata snorts. Tsukishima's head snaps at it. "Don't snort, dumbass. Last time I checked you got a twenty at your exam."
"You hit a nerve there, Shoyo," Kageyama giggles.
You sigh and slap your hands at your thighs. "Sawamura-san, why are you guys even here?"
He stammers, his back straightening as he fixes his bag on his left shoulder. "Jus–Just wanted to make sure you two will be fine. Let's go guys."
When they leave, Tsukishima relaxes in relief. He stares intensely at his notebook, figuring out the correct answer. You try not to laugh at him, but the sight was entertaining; seeing him suffer brought your heart at ease.
"Figured it out, moron?" You bring your own notebook out, flipping it to the last page you'd written on. "It's really not that hard."
"Shut up, (l/n.)" he says. You make a small sound, similar to "okay!" As you begin to write down on a blank page.
And you're like that for a few hours.
Tsukishima answers the questions you've written for him, and when he asks you for help, you cordially help him without telling him the answers. Then you both go back to formidable silence, doing your own perspective works.
He almost enjoys this newfound environment created with you. Somehow, his body is more tranquil, but at the same time his mind is racing, because you're here. Tutoring him. Tsukishima has always believed that he was one step ahead of you, making sure you were unable to catch up with him. But now he's slipped from that step and you've caught up and you're deriding him.
Nonetheless, you're his only hope right now.
He looks at you.
Your hair is tucked behind your ears and your teeth are currently creating dents at the eraser of your pencil. You're concentrating, seeming like you've forgotten that he's sitting in front of you. And Tsukishima's eyes are extremely blurred, but when he looks at you through the gap between his glasses and forehead, your face was somehow clearer.
"Are you a dog?" he raises a brow. "Don't chew on your pencil."
You huff like you're being scold and place your pencil down. But the chewing didn't last a second as your bottom lip is now tucked between your teeth. Tsukishima rolls his eyes.
"Here," he flips his paper and shows it to you. "Did I do it correctly?"
You take the paper from him and read it. He hopes you're at least slightly impressed, that you're not arbitrating his answers nor think they're half-assed. When your red pen moves into a slant, the corner of his lip twitches upwards. But when you circle the number, he has this urge to shove that pen into your eye.
"Hm, not bad. But not enough." you flip the paper.
70.
Four points less.
"Damn it." You can tell he's disappointed at himself. "You suck at teaching."
"Excuse me?!" Your eyebrows furrow. "Hey, I've spent the past four hours teaching you here, stickhead. The sun's almost down!"
"Do you have to go home already?" He asks. You shrug. "Then we can stay here until they're done with practice."
"Tsukishima, I have freshly cooked doburi waiting for me at home. Do you know what donburi is? Do you know what it tastes like while it's still hot? Fucking donburi, Tsukishima." You whine. "Would you like to study at my place instead?"
You seem to not have processed what you've offered, but Tsukishima has. He's surprised at your comment, watching you look so desperate to get home and eat that "fucking donburi." He waits for a moment until you realize and you do, but it seemed like you didn't care when you lean back and raise a brow.
"Well?"
"Sure."
His quick, almost unhesitant compliance surprises you. Tsukishima adjusts his glasses and brings his headphones out as you both head out the door. You lock it behind you, with Tsukishima already walking ahead.
You pass by the gym. "Sawamura, everyone, we're heading out!"
Tsukishima appears beside you. "We're going."
"To where?" Yamaguchi approaches you both. "Are you going to eat out? Ooh, can you bring food back here?"
"We're going to her place to study." He answers. "We can't come back."
The others seem to hear what he said, because Hinata yells: "What kind of studying are you going to do, Stingyshima?"
"Something that your tiny shit-for-brains can't comprehend." He retorts. "Focus on your receives, squirt!"
You wave to everyone and catch a glimpse of Yamaguchi's smile. You roll your eyes at him and poke your tongue out.
🏐 —
The way home was quieter than you expected.
Mainly because Tsukishima had his headphones on and all you hear was your un synchronous footsteps on the stoned sidewalk. You take small looks at your peripherals to see what he's doing. And, well, he's walking... like every other normal person.
But you're walking side by side and there's this space between you that's so close but also so far away. You feel his heat touching the fabric of your shirt, his hand twitching and just barely grazing yours. Then he speaks:
"You walk like a penguin," he says. "Why are you like that?"
"Why are you so annoying?" you roll your eyes. "I don't point out how you walk."
"That's because there's nothing wrong with my walk," he puts his headphones down, hangs them around his neck. "What? Got a stick up your ass or something?"
"I'll stab you with that stick."
"Gross."
You turn a corner and he follows suit like it was normal for him to follow you around. When you stop in front of your gate and unlock it, he bore no unhestiance as he removed his shoes and entered your home.
There was no one else around. And as soon as Tsukishima entered, you disappeared in his vision. Although, he hears you yell from afar: "Set your bag wherever. Stay in the living room though!"
He assumes you're either changing your clothes, getting a bowl of donburi, or both. He obeys, sets his bag on the floor and sits cross legged on the carpet of your living room, taking his notes out. He sees the sun inching away behind the roofs of the houses near by, waiting for you patiently.
And then his eyes roam to picture frames.
Never would he think that a picture of you smiling would be so endearing. That smile of yours, painting you an angelic aura, like people would never expect that you'd be the devil's descendant. Nonetheless, you were still beautiful.
The picture was you in a ponytail, face doused in sweat; the background, although blurry and dark, looked familiar. But Tsukishima was more focused on your gleaming smile, the way your eyes are almost closed and your lips were pale and your teeth were shiny.
"Hey, douchebag," you sit beside him despite the free space on the opposite of the coffee table, setting down two bowls of donburi. And yes, you had changed your clothes into something comfier. "Let's eat and study."
He never expected that you'd get him a bowl, thought that he'd have to ask or drop hints of him wanting donburi. He takes it though, and it is freshly cooked. He now understood your eagerness to go home.
An hour passes by.
The bowls are empty and set aside. Tsukishima's notes are scattered, hair disheveled from him constantly running his fingers through them. That string of hatred between you has been put aside as you both seem to tolerate one another through this session.
"Tsukishima," you say, almost sternly, placing two cartons of strawberry milk on the table. "It's easy to determine an adverb in Japanese. It's no different in identifying it in English."
"I know that, dumbass. What are you, a consciousness?" He takes his box, taking the plastic off the straw and shoving it on the circular foil. "Gimme yours."
He takes your carton and shakes it before doing the same and handing it to you. You blush vehemently, murmuring your gratitude and wrapping your lips around the paper straw.
Tsukishima's eyes wander out of boredom, tracing every corner and every ridge of your home. Until his eyes land on the sliding door to your backyard and catch a glimpse of that familiar blue and yellow ball.
"You play volleyball?" he queries, both his eyebrows raising.
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Back in middle school."
"Bet you were shit at it."
"I was a middle blocker."
Tsukishima's back straightens, staring at you in hidden surprise. "At that height?"
"I'm not that short! Asshole," you throw your pen at him. He catches it with ease, setting it beside his notebook.
"Why aren't you in the women's volleyball club, then?" his brow raises. "Too short? They didn't take you? Failed the tryouts?"
You look down at your fingers, covered in peeled up skin and charred fingernails. You feel embarrassed, avoiding his eager stare. You sense his want to know your reason, radiating off his eyes.
"Not saying," you push yourself up, now standing in front of him. Tsukishima's eyes follow you, trailing uo from your thighs up to your neck, his irises darkening until he meets your gaze. "Get up. Time to go home."
"Let's play."
You stammer. "W-what? It's late."
"And I want to see you play." Tsukishima stands, hovering over you. "It's only nine in the evening."
You purse your lips, arms going limp on either side of your tired body. Though despite being worn out, you walk towards the door and slide it open, being greeted by Miyagi's brumal air that raises the hairs on your body. Tsukishima tugs on the sleeves of his sweater, covering half of his fingers, before following you out.
Barefoot in the evening, with the moon casting a pearlescent glow on your enervated bodies, the thump of the leather ball is in sync with your beating heart; and at each thump, it seems to wake Tsukishima up more.
"Tell me why you're not in the women's volleyball club," he sets it towards your direction.
"No." Your wrists join, your right fingers placing themselves on top of your left fingers, both thumbs settled side by side as your wrist ricochet the ball towards him. "It's none of your business."
Tsukishima catches it with ease. "You're lame."
You scoff, returning the ball. "I am not."
The blue and yellow ball floats into the evening air, the bright colors darkened by the stygian sky, only luminated by the moon and the lights outside your backyard. Tsukishima sets it to you again. "Listen, I don't really care about whatever your reason is. I just want to know."
You huff. There's no harm in telling your enemy a secret of yours, right? It's not like he was popular enough to go on and tell people. And like he said, he didn't care.
The ball comes in contact with your wrists. "I got injured. Well, not seriously injured. I can still play but I'm not as good as I used to be." Tsukishima catches the ball and rests it on his hip, listening to you explain. "I actually got a surgery at my calf."
You lift your pajamas just below your knee, showing the healed scar at the back of your calf. "The bone got dislocated 'cause one of my teammates smashed onto my leg when she was trying to save the ball. She got injured too, actually."
"Obviously," he retorts, now staring at your calf. Something about Tsukishima staring at your scar seemed too intimate as it should be, staring at your bare skin. His blonde hair drapes over his forehead, glasses glinting in the moonlight. "So where do you struggle?"
"Blocking. I can't jump properly." You scratch the back of your neck. "I can set though. Just, it's not in my heart."
"It's just a club," he says. "Play whatever position you want." Tsukishima sets the ball to you again.
"Just a club, huh?" You smirk. "Why'd you fail your test?"
"Because I was thinking too much of what I was gonna do when I'm at court again."
"And it's just a club."
"What's it to you?" He snaps. "At least I'm in the Volleyball club. Have I taken your dream?"
"You're a child."
"Yeah yeah. Join the club or whatever. Don't care if you don't or you want to."
You set it back to him again. "I want to."
Tsukishima senses your melancholy longing for the sport, sees your disheartened look as you think about all the chances you've lost. His heart twinges just the slightest, holding the ball between his slender hands. He almost pities you.
"Tell you what," he sets it to you. "If I pass the retest tomorrow, I'll help you with your blocking. If not," he shrugs, catching your return, "good luck with your life."
"You sound like this is a once in a lifetime opportunity." You roll your eyes.
Tsukishima hopes he passes the retest tomorrow.
Mainly because it was import to him to ace it. Partly because he wanted to see you on court.
🏐 —
100.
You read Tsukishima's answers. In the fluorescent lights, his neat handwriting presents to you all the knowledge he's obtained from your chaotic teachings. He scoffs proudly, resting his lower back on the edge of his table.
"Not bad, nerd." You hand his paper to him. "And you beat me by two points."
"That's because you're an idiot," he sits down on his chair, though still facing you. "See you at the gym later."
Your brows furrow. "The gym's closed. Coach Ukai said today's rest day."
"But I'm not Coach Ukai," he fixes his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "It's just for today. And only today."
"Fine," you agree. You act like you're forced to say yes, but deep inside the vessels of your heart and every part of your brain, they throb with excitement.
So you meet Tsukishima outside the gym after class in a white shirt and gym shorts. He meets you there, clad in the same outfit, heat radiating off his body that warms your always cold flesh. For a moment he admires observes you, your attire unfamiliar but nevertheless appealing hideous.
When you enter, the court seemed bigger without the boys rousing around the court. It was quieter, no shoes squeaking, no balls slammed, no eager yelling. You set your bag down on the floor and see your untied shoe laces.
"Fuck," you mutter.
But before you could bend down, Tsukishima has already knelt in front of you.
His knee rests on the tip of your shoe, fingers ribboning the laces of your rubber shoes. Your eyes widen, body stiffening, and it felt like forever as he tied it (it was actually only 10 seconds).
"You're a dumbass for leaving your shoelaces untied." He makes no comment as to why he's decided to tie your laces, but you swear you see his ears turn a twinge of pink.
Tsukishima takes a ball and goes to the other side of the court. When you stand opposite from him, he rolls the ball to your direction.
"How long has it been since you've played?" he asks, loudly, voice echoing across the empty gymnasium.
"Uh, a year and a half." The ball bounces between your palm and the squeaky floor. "I'm a little rusty."
"You are rusty. Your receives were shit last night."
You growl at his tease.
"We're not gonna start with the blockings. We have to start from the beginning." Tsukishima positions himself, knees bent and apart, his hands on his knees. "Serve it."
So you do. You toss the ball into the air, your hand striking as it meets the ball, and it flies across the net. It goes outside.
"Idiot." Tsukishima laughs. "First, don't try to aim it to me. You don't want your opponents to save it. You have to aim it at an open spot inside the line. Second, don't serve too hard it goes outside."
"Okay!" You yell. And you serve again.
The ball grazes the net, but the momentum deems the ball to be inside the line. Tsukishima catches it and receives it back to your side.
Shit.
You race after the ball, joined wrists hitting it back to him. He dives, the back of his hand coming contact with the ball and it goes back to your court.
And it's high in the air, so you take the chance to bend your knees and jump, spiking it to his court.
Tsukishima blocks it.
He laughs. "You're horrible at this."
"I don't exactly have a libero to save it, don't I?" You retort.
Tsukishima smiles a little, laughing at your loss point. "Give me the ball." You roll it to his side. "I want you to try and block me."
"The net is higher than it is for girls, you know." You approach the net. "I'll have a hard time."
"The higher you jump, the better you can block the ball. And you'll even have an advantage against your enemies since you're practicing with a higher net, (y/n)." He dribbles the ball.
Tsukishima called you by your first name.
Not your surname, not some insulting nickname. Your first name.
Your knees weaken at the sound of his voice dropping the phonemes of your name.
But when he flings the ball upwards, you feel your body go rigid. And just before his incoming ball passes through the net, you jump, fingers stopping the ball.
But the ball doesn't go to his side, instead it falls down below the net, at your side. You land clumsily on your feet, ankle bending but not painfully.
"See, you got it. You just have to jump higher."
"Shut up, you stilt walking clown." Your leg throbs, shaking. "Hit it again."
"See this?" Tsukishima brings his hands in the air, his arms and hands bent inward. "You block like this. Don't straighten your arms. It sets the ball upwards and they get the point since you're last touch. Block me again."
You kick the ball to his direction. Tsukishima springs the ball into the air once more, his arm flinging back when he jumps and strikes the ball towards you.
Filled with adrenaline, you jump as high as you could, your chest as high as the edge of the net, arms and hands bent inward as you block the ball and ricochet it towards him.
He doesn't do anything and watches the ball roll outside the court. Tsukishima's eyes shoot up and look at you, the corner of his lips bent downwards in amusement.
"Not bad. Try harder though."
You snarl at him.
Hours pass and you're both drenched in sweat. His shirt sticks to his chest, his hair damp across his forehead. He's wiping his face with a towel and his glasses rest on top of his hair. You drink from your water bottle.
The sweat drips down the tip of his nose, golden eyes drowsy yet vigorous with adrenaline. His lips are parted to pant out tired breaths, his adam's apple bobbing, the veins of his arms protruding. And he's sitting at the same bench as yours.
You swallow the liquid in your mouth.
"One day of practice isn't enough to get me into the club, Tsukishima." you say, wiping your mouth. "Thanks for teaching me though."
Tsukishima sets his towel down. "It's whatever. Your receives are go-fine, anyway. And you're really not that tall enough to block. You're hopeless."
"I wish Hinata was here to say that so he could yell at you."
Hinata. Tsukishima feels something uncomfortable rise to his chest when you mention his name.
And it seems as though you have summoned that tiny tangerine devil.
"Oh, Kageyama! The lights are open, someone must be here," your head turns and see that Hinata's hair pokes out the door before his head fully goes in. His eyes roam around until they find you. "Oh! (y/l/n)-san!"
"Hinata," you smile kindly. "Why are you guys still here? There's no training today."
"Tanaka-san said we can train for as much as we want as long as we don't tell Sawamura." he hops inside, Kageyama following suit behind him, unzipping his jacket. "What are you doing here, Stingyshima?"
"None of your business." He replies, irritation dripping off his sharp tongue from the nickname. "What do you think we were doing? Playing kendama?"
"I wouldn't mind playing kendama," Hinata looks at Kageyama, who shrugs. "Can we join?"
"Hopeless child," Tsukishima rubs his face with his towel again. "It's getting late. We should go home."
His usage of plural rather than sigular denotes that his usual selfishness has been decreased due to your unwavering presence, having been spent multiple hours with you for the past two days than usual. Tsukishima has easily adapted to include you in whatever he was going to do next.
We should go home.
"Aw, well, can you leave us the keys?" Hinata asks you. Tsukishima shoves the keys in the small boy's hand. "Thank you, Stingyshima!"
Tsukishima slings his bag over his shoulder, approaching the exit. He looks at Kageyama. "Fix your sets, your Majesty. You wouldn't want to clip the wings of Karasuno now, would you?"
You can see the smirk formed in his face. Kageyama is fuming, his fists clenching. "You– I...– You piece of shi– Hnmgh– You dumbass! Hinata!"
"Why me?!"
Tsukishima walks away without waiting for you, although you follow suit behind him. And when you reach the school gates, he turns right rather than left—and his way home begins with him turning left.
Yours was to the right.
"You gonna walk me home?" You joke, finally catching up behind him. Your weary legs has made you walk slower, though enough to now keep up with Tsukishima's tired pace.
"Yes."
Tsukishima doesn't spare a glance at you. But you look at him in shock. Then you shoot him an upsidedown smile, humming.
"No longer Stingyshima, I see."
"I ought to leave you here and get kidnapped." He states bluntly, finally looking down at you through his peripherals.
"Why are you walking me home then?"
"Because I want to take a long walk."
"Yeah sure, whatever." Your hands meet behind you, hitting the top of your bottom at every step you take. "You wanted to take a long walk. Could've gone to the park, could've roamed around your street. But yeah, you're walking me home so you could have a long walk back to your home."
Tsukishima tuts, his arms crossing. "Are you implying something, (y/n)?"
Your first name. Again.
"Oh, I'm not implying anything!" Your eyebrows raise, looking fully at him. And Tsukishima turns his head and looks at you as he walks. "I'm just stating what I've observed, Tsukki."
"Don't call me that."
"Okay!" You turn to your gate. When you reach inside the small box and pull on the lever of your door, you sense that Tsukishima is still standing behind you wth his hands in his pockets, watching you intently. So you turn around when the gate unlocks. "Yes? Do you need to use my bathroom first? Want a carton of milk or something?"
"No." He says. "Get in already."
You rest your back at your gate. "Tell me the real reason why you walked me home."
"No."
"So you lied to me earlier?"
"N-no."
"So what is it?"
Tsukishima sighs. Then he takes a few steps, approaching you and bends down so that his face would be equal to yours.
His scent is sweet, like freshly picked strawberries. And his lips, though thin, was soft and pink. And the tip of his nose grazes just above yours. And his golden eyes narrow to gaze at every speck of your irises. The corner of his lip turns upwards.
"That shut you up." He says. You blush, and he seems to taunt you. "Still want to play volleyball?"
His breath is hot fanning over your cold face. You can't help but nod. You swallow thickly from the close proximity that Tsukishima has created.
"Okay. Well, I still need help with english. And you obviously still need help with volleyball. So you reap what you sow. We'll help each other."
Tsukishima says those words like they're a command. Like they're being read from sacred scriptures. An event waiting to be happened for a prophecy to be fulfilled. Tsukishima's tone was flat but his voice deemed importance.
"Okay," was all you managed to let out through a breath. "See you tomorrow?"
Tsukishima stands up, eyes you up and down. Then looks into your eyes again and you swear that his gaze softens.
"See you tomorrow."
🏐—
A few weeks pass by.
At mornings, Tsukishima has come to pick you up and you studied on the way to Karasuno. You spend your lunches together, along with Yamaguchi, as well as Hinata and Kageyama who—while also bickering like children—listen to whatever you teach Tsukishima.
After classes, you find yourself joining the boys at the volleyball club, with Tsukishima helping you practice your blocks and receives. Though you notice that the boys take their strengths down a notch, which you are somewhat grateful for — because they truly are strong, and you're not ready to catch up to their level yet.
And at nights, Tsukishima walks you home with a milk carton in hand and sharp remarks in his mouth.
There's still a thick smoke of hatred that covers the both of you, that string of annoyance wrapped around your fingers. Yet as days pass by, that smoke has been thinning at every civil interaction. Albeit that annoyance still lingered.
And until today, that smoke has turned into this very light fog, until you begin to question why you hated Tsukishima in the first place.
Your phone vibrates.
tsukishima. Where are you? 8:32am
you. almost there. forgot my bag at home. 8:33am
tsukishima. Hurry up. It's cold outside. 8:33am
you. will do. sorry :| Read at 8:34am
Tsukishima is standing outside the gates of Karasuno, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed as you quickened the pace of your walk.
"You're so slow it's annoying," his eyebrows furrow. "Why'd you forget your bag? Idiot."
"You pressure me, douchebag." You flick the bridge of his glasses. He yelps. "Hurry. I want to study already. We have a quiz at 9."
When you and Tsukishima sit on your respective seats, you quiz each other with lazily scribbled flash cards. He seems to have absorbed the passed on knowledge and had answered the questions with ease.
So after the quiz, he seemed content; confident.
"How well did you think you did, beanpole?" You zip your bag.
"Well enough to beat your ass," he replies. Then, he does something new.
He smiles at you.
It wasn't a bright smile. Not energetic, but radiates some kind of light happiness. Seemed like a smile of gratitude.
You feel your cheeks flare.
After classes, you meet outside the gym as always, both of you changed into training clothes. Then you spend hours and hours jumping and tiring your wrists out, squeaking your shoes off the floor.
By the time the sun has set, Tsukishima was waiting for you again.
"Let's study."
Your eyes widen and you look startled. Tsukishima looks bored. "I'm pretty sure you got yourself covered for the rest of the year, Tsukishima."
"And I don't think you can train by yourself in volleyball," he adjusts his bag. "Let's just study. Reap what you sow."
"You keep saying that."
He ignores you. "Let's study at my place."
"E-excuse me?"
Tsukishima begins to walk to his direction. And despite your reaction, you follow him either way. "Let's study at my place for a change. I'm sick of your living room."
He says it like he's spent years hanging out in your living room. Your feet runs on the cobblestone to catch up with him. "But- What else are we gonna study?"
"Whatever I want."
His house wasn't actually that far from the campus. When you've turned a corner, he opens the gate and lets you in. When you enter his home, it's warm and clean, so you set your shoes aside and walk in your socks.
No one's home.
Tsukishima could've led you to their living room. Instead, he goes directly to his bedroom. And when you don't move, he looks at you through the door with a raised brow, as if to say "well? why aren't you getting in?"
So you do.
You sit on the edge of his bed, watching him unzip his jacket and set it aside. You decide to stop acting so wary and let you back fall to his bed, taking your phone out.
"So when are your tryouts?"
You look at him, placing your phone on your chest. "Next week. Michimiya was nice enough to let me try this late into the school year."
"I'll be there." He sits down on the other side of his bed.
"Oh," you're stunned. "Okay. Um, what do you want to study?"
You pull yourself up until your whole body is on his bed, sitting up and resting your back at his headboard. Tsukishima brings his legs to the bed, resting them beside your socked feet.
"Chemistry." This is new. "Can you run me through it?"
And you do. You take your notebook our and run him by all the lessons discussed for the past week. Tsukishima's pretends to listen but he actually doesn't.
Instead he's staring at your scar at your leg, up and down your very exposed thigh, but mostly at your scar.
You notice this immediately. "Tsukishima, why are you staring at my scar?"
"It's Kei," he looks at you, his hand resting just beside your calf, index finger twitching to trace the ridges of your scar. "Call me Kei."
Kei.
"Okay, Kei."
Your voice, filled with dulcets, his name sounding mellifluous as it rolls of your tongue. Tsukishima's heart beats wildly, and has decided to come with the terms that he hates you— because he likes you.
"Your scar looks... cool..." his index finger finally sets on the soft skin of your healed wound. You shiver at his featherlight touch.
And he's so near you now. As near as that time he walked you home and bent down to your height. And gods, he was so handsome. Even with his scratched glasses. Your mouth gapes the slightest, shaking hands reaching to remove the spectacles off his nose.
Tsukishima lets you. You see sweetness of his stare, all that hatred you used to see seemed to have melted and dripped from his sweat. This kind of Tsukishima is new– foreign, yet seemed right. Seemed destined to happen.
"Kei," you murmur. "What are you doing?"
"Is your skull too thick to process your environment?" his laugh leaves him in a huff, smirking.
"You're so eager for me to teach you something you're already good at so you could keep training me," your brows meet in the middle the slightest, a crease on your forehead that Tsukishima wants to wipe away. "Why?"
"Because you're good, (y/n)." He declares. "Your injury isn't stopping you to perform your best. You're just scared."
"Then why not just train me without me having to tutor you?"
"Because I don't want to lose these kind of moments." he whispers. "Jesus, (y/n), I like you. It's why I brought you here, for fuck's sake."
His lips are warm compared to his cold hands.
You gasp, though eyes fluttering shut, and your eyelashes tickle his soft cheeks. Your fingers wrap around his wrist as he holds your delicate face in the palm of his hands, careful not to hurt you as his lips remain planted on yours.
When Tsukishima pulls away, he's not far from you. His lips hover over yours, breathing your air, his forehead resting just slightly on yours. Your fingers come up to tangle themselves on his silky hair.
"Lose moments like what, make out with me?" you giggle. "If you wanted to make out, Kei, just tell me."
"You never shut up, do you?"
His lips meet yours again in an open mouthed kiss, his tongue unabashed to graze your shy muscle. You hum in surprise, feeling yourself fall backwards when he gently cradles your head to rest on his sweet-scented pillow.
Somehow, you did meet up with your end of the bargain, only with something better.
Something better– like his hips slanted against yours as his mouth spreads shameless ardor across your body.
Something better– like how he whispers your name against your lips like a sacred prayer before he kisses you again carefully.
Something better– like a newfound relationship with Tsukishima Kei, someone you swore was your enemy, but now was someone you could spend your days with in his bed getting warm in ways fire couldn't.
Tsukishima looks into your eyes, tells you his secrets through his dilating pupils. His calloused fingers push your hair behind your ears, and then he kisses your forehead, followed by silk petal kisses on the plump of your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and then your lips.
His hands wander beneath your shirt, palms no longer cold as they're heated by the fervor of your body.
"You're so pretty."
"What a sap." you tease. "You're in love with me."
"I am." His nose rubs against yours lightly. "I so am. I'm in love with a dumbass. My ego has exploded."
You hit his face with a pillow.
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reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated!
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alexiroflife · 7 months ago
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“stubborn”
fluff, sickening fluff
toji fushiguro x reader
Synopsis: you finally ask your boyfriend Toji to help you with something after months of pushing him away
to sum it up: reader is a stubborn, independent woman who despises asking for help, but you're just too short to reach your top-shelf
WC: 1,778
Warning(s): none
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Toji knew he was done for when his heart flipped after you had asked him such a simple question, so stubbornly and quietly, your arms crossed over your chest and eyes casted to your feet.
“What was that, doll?” he asked you, smugness clear in his tone.
“Shut the hell up.”
You had to be one of the most stubborn people he had met right after himself. You were a small, pretty thing. Toji was twice your size and towered over you like a damn skyscraper. At first glance, he hadn’t taken you for someone with such a persistent habit of trying to handle everything on your own, but you surely had proved him wrong. 
In the two months you had spent together, the assassin had watched you turn down his help time and time again. 
He offered you money if you mentioned that you were a little low on funds? Hell no, you were finding a way to rack up the change you needed for your next meal. You couldn’t find what you were looking for in the store? You’d turn down his offer to ask a clerk and wander the isles for damn near forty-five minutes before you finally found what you were looking for. Someone was giving you the stink eye as you walked by? You didn’t need him to defend you, you’d turn around and tell the stranger off yourself.
Toji had to admit, he admired how dedicated you were to handling yourself. He found it attractive, how much of an independent woman you were. Half the time he hardly even felt like you needed him around. He was your boyfriend, sure, but you never let him do the things that ‘boyfriends’ typically did. You spent plenty of time together and stayed over at each other’s places, but getting him to kill a spider or put together a new work desk or help you move around your furniture was never something you expected, asked, or even wanted him to do. 
Toji almost didn’t know what to do with himself. Here you were, a young woman hardly taller than his pectoral muscle, pushing him away anytime you were clearly struggling when you had full access to a ginormous mountain of a man over six feet tall. While he commended you for your hardened spirit, he worried for you just the same. You were more willing to wear yourself down to nothing for the sake of your stubborn pride rather than to ask him to pick you up from work after putting in overtime. 
At times, he almost felt foolish as your partner. He was there to help you, and when you still didn’t want the help he willingly offered after weeks, he had begun to grow annoyed.
You both were pretty horrible at expressing your feelings and relying on people other than yourselves. You were both incredibly self-sufficient, and you came together because you enjoyed each other’s company rather than depended on it. Toji enjoyed being with someone who could hold their own, but did you really have to hold your own to such a drastic extent? Hell, he had found himself asking you for more things than you’d ever ask for him. Since when had he become the vulnerable person in the relationship (though his definition of vulnerability was hardly the same as an ordinary person’s)? 
He knew that he cared for you and was only falling deeper into your relationship, so he wanted you to rely on him more. He wanted you to ask him for things. He wanted to give you more than what you needed. He wanted to give you the world.
But you never appeared to ‘need’ or ‘want’ anything outside of his company and presence. 
He loved it and hated it at the same time.
So when you approached him where he lounged on your couch, lips twisting and leg bouncing, looking surprisingly bashful for such a tough woman, and fighting against yourself internally to ask him quietly:
“Can you help me with something?”
His heart burst and his mouth fell agape. 
“...Heh?” he squinted, leaning forward and craning his neck as if he hadn’t heard you.
You flushed, crossing your arms tightly and chewing on the inside of your lip. You looked so angry with yourself for coming to him, but you truly had no other choice in the matter. Besides, you and Toji had shared enough disputes about your hesitation to open up and seek his shoulder to lean on. He wanted to take care of you. You were his girl after all, and he was practically useless as a man if he wasn’t there for you when you needed assistance. 
You closed your eyes tightly and opened them again, looking off to the floor in embarrassment. “I need your help… reaching something on the top shelf…”
Then and there, Toji realized just how doomed he was. He felt fireworks burst, heard bells ring. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, for he almost had to pinch himself to ensure that he hadn’t fallen asleep in your living room and wasn’t dreaming up this entire conversation.
But no, this was real. You, his gorgeous, stubbornly independent girlfriend, who wouldn’t have dared to ask him for help with anything over the course of the two months you had been together, had finally approached him with a rather mundane task. 
And you looked like it was destroying from the inside out to do so. You would have thought that you’d just asked him to strip down completely before her and do jumping jacks by looking at your bashful face… as a matter of fact, you probably would have looked far less tightly wound if you had been asking him to do something as ridiculous as that.
Toji smiled, a warmth spreading over his chest. 
“What was that doll?”
“Shut the hell up.”
He chuckled lowly, pushing himself to his feet to stand before you. You didn’t look at him, too humiliated to meet his eye as his hand curved over the side of your neck, his frame towering over you. He tilted his head to look at you, lips quirking up in a smirk. “You askin’ for my help, baby?”
You were visibly fuming, jaw clenching and unclenching, lips puckered forward in an adorable pout. “I don’t wanna hear it.”
“Ask me again.”
“Fuck you.”
“Come on, you getting this worked up over asking for my help?” he murmured, leaning down. “Ask me again.”
“Why are you getting off on this, you freak?” you bit, snapping your fiery eyes to meet his. Toji melted. He just loved that fire in you.
“I’m not getting off on it. I’m just pleasantly surprised, is all.” His hand dragged down to your waist, holding you gently. “Why ask me now, all of a sudden? What’s at the top of the shelf?”
Your nose flared as you hesitated once more. God, you were absolutely adorable. 
“A bowl,” you answered stiffly.
He raised a brow. “A bowl?”
“Stop asking so many damn questions! Will you help me or not?” you frowned, face heating.
“Not until you tell me what you need it for,” he teased, and you growled. He was having entirely too much fun with this, but how could he not? It was your first time asking him for anything. He had to make the most of this moment and treasure it.
“Toji, stop being an asshole.”
“Just tell me what you need it for, baby, and I’ll do whatever you want.”
You rolled your eyes, grinding your molars together. “I wanted to start trying out baking…”
Toji smiled. “That’s all?”
“Yes, that’s all, and I need the big glass bowl at the top of the shelf to make you these fucking brownies with the new recipe I found.”
He laughed, thoroughly amused by the whole ordeal. “You wanna bake for me?”
“It was gonna be a surprise, but I can’t…” you swallowed your pride, practically choking on it while doing so. “I can’t reach. Haven’t been able to since after I moved here. Used to have a stepping stool, but I can’t find it.”
Toji couldn’t believe how happy he felt to have heard that stupid request come from you. His stomach was doing flips and his smirk was brightening, leading you to believe that he was making fun of you.
“Shut up, Toji!” you whined before he had even responded.
“C’mere,” he pulled you into him by your waist, your face colliding with his chest. He kissed the top of your head sweetly, rubbing your back. “You’re cute, you know that?”
“Whatever,” your voice was muffled by his shirt, arms hanging limply at your sides as you flushed furiously.
“Of course I’ll help you, doll. ‘Coulda asked me a long time ago. It’s just a bowl.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just hurry up and do it before I find a way to climb up there myself.”
Toji pulled away to look down at you, green eyes gleaming tenderly with affection. “What’s the magic word?”
You glared at him. “I’ll kill you.”
He shook his head, entirely too please with himself. “Nuh uh. Try again, or no bowl for your brownies.”
“That harms you more than it does me!"
“Say the magic word, doll.”
Your blood was boiling, heart pounding with the shame and anxiety of vulnerability. You knew he wasn’t going to let you off the hook unless you indulged him, but you knew why and he had good reason. 
He wanted you to ask him for things, and that desire of his was sweet enough for you to indulge him.
“...Please.”
You ruined him, truly. You had asked him to carry out such a small task, one that in the end would be serving him and not even yourself, but had taken everything within you to muster up the strength to even walk over to him after battling against it for so long. 
He was proud of you. Your first steps were small, but they were steps further toward him nonetheless, and he couldn’t have been more grateful. He would have grabbed a million bowls off of a million shelves for you if it meant that you finally felt comfortable enough to rely on him for something. 
He was done for, because he knew at that moment that he had fallen so deeply in love with you. You in all of your stubborn glory.
His smile crinkled his weary eyes as he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. He pulled back to find that your angry pout hadn’t gone away, leading him to kiss you again. “Atta girl. Now show me that shelf you're talkin' about.”
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pissfizz · 2 years ago
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Hi
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bisexualiteaa · 13 days ago
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Give me this dance
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Alternate Silco x fem reader (fluff and smut!)
MDNI!!
Synopsis: In every timeline, you were a part of his life. Right there by his side to bring him outside of his comfort zone and show him some fun. Soon, what started as a mere dance turned into a night neither of you would forget.
Songs for inspo/to listen to while reading:
CW: slight season 2 spoilers! Established friendship, mutual pining, mutual feelings, unrequited feelings, reader is AFAB, reader is a bartender at the last drop, reader has hair, alternate Silco, softer/happier Silco, brief mentions of alcohol, fluff w/ smut, cursing, fïngering, 0ral (fem recieving), nïpple pläy, unprotected seggs, p0rn w/ feelings, rïding, cream 🥧, fluffy ending, proofread, potential spelling/grammar errors, slight OOC Silco, no use of y/n
AN: The way he looked so happy in this timeline, he looks so happy and even more handsome somehow it’s CRAZY!! 😭 Had this one in the works for a while now but it’s finally done! I hope you all enjoy! 🥹♥️
You smiled happily as you were finally able to find your way out from behind the bar, a momentary reprieve from the hustle and bustle, the demand of drink orders that had been steadily building all night. “Come dance with me! I love this song” you remarked to Silco, making his eyes widen with something akin to a look of fear. He was a horrible dancer, and the last thing he wanted to do was embarrass himself in front of you of all people. He looked to Vander for any bit of advice or help he could give, only earning a grin from the man in response, telling him he was on his own for this one. “I-I’m not very good at dancing I…” Silco tried to explain, stuttering terribly as your hand grabbed his upper arm, causing a blush to trickle across his face and his heart to race in his chest out of nervousness. He didn’t want to turn you down, but he didn’t want to embarrass himself in a bar full of people either. Or embarrass you, for that matter, with being such a terrible dance partner. “Me either, it’s okay! Promise I won’t judge” you reassured with a smile, the faint smell of liquor and mixers entangling with your perfume, creating a smell that was so comforting, so familiar. It was so you and so incredibly intoxicating. “C’mon, let’s have some fun! Dance with me” you tried to persuade him sweetly, gorgeous eyes looking up at him so excitedly, almost twinkling in the warm glow of the lanterns that hung around the bar. How could he possibly say no when you looked at him like that? “What’s the harm? Doubt anyone will even be lookin’” Vander jutted in, cleaning a glass as he spoke and took your side on this, hoping that maybe if Silco danced with you, he would finally tell you how he feels, possibly ending the constant back and forth cycle of mutual pining between you two for good. He was two to one now, leaving him no other choice but to relent. “I suppose I’ll step out of my comfort zone, just this once” he remarked cheekily, making you nearly jump for joy at his response, an elated smile stretching across your lips as you eagerly led him out on the floor to dance. Vander could only laugh as he watched you both act as if you were teenagers all over again, pushing the boundaries of friendship and testing the waters of romance.
You looked up at the taller man in front of you, hazel and green eyes gazing upon you with such light of a man so deeply in love. Your bright, contagious laughter filled the air as you danced to the music, caring not for anything but this moment. Who cared if anyone else was watching? Who what anyone else was thinking? If they were judging. The only person you cared about looking at you was the man you were dancing with. Seeing his eyes glued to you, smiling as he attempting to follow your pace and rhythm was all you needed. This had to be heaven, surely. “I’ve never seen you dance like this before” Silco commented with a cheeky grin, happy to see you so comfortable and carefree while in his presence. “I normally don’t, but for such a special occasion I decided to make an exception” you replied, making him laugh as you both continued to let the beat carry you, finding your feet moving nearly in sync all on their own.
Before you knew it, one dance had turned into quite a few, then quite a few turned into spending nearly all night out there getting caught up in song. Silco found himself enjoying the moment and the chance to be with you far more than he could have ever anticipated. Who knew stepping out of your bubble a little could be so much fun? Suddenly the music had taken on a much slower turn from the rest of the music that had been playing, even the lights had dropped a little to add to the almost romantic atmosphere. You’d never slow danced before, and you figured that you’d likely pulled Silco out of his element for long enough, so you took it as your sign to hop back behind the bar. However before you could, his voice stopped you. “Where are you going?” He asked softly, looking confused and almost hurt that you were going to leave. “Oh, I figured you were probably done dancing for the night so I…I thought I’d head back behind the bar. I didn’t want to force you to stay here dancing all night if it isn’t what you want” you explained, feeling a pang of guilt hit you in the chest as he looked upon you so sadly. Any chance he had to spend with you he would do in a heartbeat, so long as it was with you, he’d do just about anything. “I don’t feel forced. You’ve brought me out of my element yes, but I’ve enjoyed dancing with you. I’d be even happier to continue” he admitted wholeheartedly, making you perk up a little to hear he was enjoying himself, finding yourself a little surprised at the prospect. “Really?” You asked, voice hopeful as you looked to him, watching him shake his head yes, easing your every worry. “Would you give me this dance?” He asked bravely, hand extended out for you to take. You looked to it before looking back up at him with a blushy smile, heart feeling as if it would beat out of your chest from both excitement and anxiousness. “I’d be delighted to” you responded sweetly, grabbing his hand and allowing him to lead you both to a spot that allowed you enough room while also granting you a little bit of privacy compared to before. “Full disclosure, I’ve never slow danced before” you finally confessed, a little embarrassed but it only made him chuckle. “Me either, it’s okay. I won’t judge” he repeated back to you the exact same thing you’d told him when you asked him to dance, making you laugh at the witty comeback. It was only fair, you supposed. You’d brought him out of his comfort zone and showed him a great time in doing so, it was only fair to allow him to do the same for you. Besides, when would you be able to get this chance to share with him again? Better to take the opportunity, make the best of it and be able to look back on it as a memory someday than not and mourn what could have been. “Clever play, using my own words against me” you replied, making him only grin wider. “Just follow my lead” he spoke confidently, bringing your arm to loop around his neck as one of his hands rested at your hip, the other holding yours as you both stepped and swayed to the beat, keeping it simple. You couldn’t help the rouge that ran across your cheeks however that this was even happening right now. From the close proximity of your chests being pressed together, to your hands being intertwined as he looked down at you with a soft, love struck smile, all of it was so romantic. So intimate. It left you nervous, not wanting to mess up and ruin the beautiful tension that had begun to set in between you now. Yet you felt so alive, so free. It felt like one of those romantic moments you’d only ever heard of in the books you’d read. You could hardly believe it was actually real. That this was real.
You smiled up at him as you stared into his gorgeous eyes, finding your hand moving from its original place to instead come and rest along the scarred side of his cheek almost instinctively, your thumb rubbing soothing circles against the textured skin there. He was always so self conscious about his scars, especially around you. He didn’t want you to think less of him because of them, or find him less attractive because of them, often covering them with makeup to at least cover the color of the scar tissue and make it blend in with his natural skin tone better. Yet you thought that they were what made him so stunning. Paired with his piercing eyes and the confidence he carried about himself so effortlessly, even the way he dressed, everything about him was just so incredibly special. He stood out amongst the rest of the crowd. Gods he was so handsome. He was so handsome it was almost intimidating, yet you’d known him long enough to know there was no reason to be.
Your sweet gesture made his heart skip in his chest, beating harder and faster than it already had as he smiled down at you. He wondered to himself if it was loud enough for you to hear as it slammed against his sternum. You couldn’t help the way your eyes seemed to curiously flit between his and his lips occasionally, silently wondering how they would feel if they were pressed against your own. Would they be soft? They looked soft. Would they fit well against your own? You hoped to find out. It made you start to think that perhaps the slower song was chosen on purpose, strategically placed so you would dance with him to it. A plan to get you to get him out of his comfort zone, show him some fun, all while setting you both up with the perfect opportunity to speak on feelings that rested unspoken between you for far too long now. Or maybe you were just lucky enough to have fate hand you such a beautiful opportunity. Who were you to turn it down if so? “You’re quite good at this” you complimented, making him give a breathy chuckle. “You’re better than you give yourself credit for” he replied, making you hum with a sweet smile as you looped both of your arms around his neck, taking the bold step and resting your head against his chest as you continued to sway. He froze for a moment as you did, his hands finding your hips before wrapping his arms around you as it set in that you were leaned against him like this. That you felt safe enough with him to do so. It made him nearly dizzy at the thought of having you like this, to have you so close, for you to want this with him. It left him to silently thank every deity above for the opportunity as he shut his eyes and rested his chin on top of your head for a moment, allowing the both of you to sway to the rhythm and just enjoy each other’s warmth.
When the song had finally come to an end, you lifted your head up to look at him, eyes once again flickering between his gaze and his lips with that same curiosity. Only this time it was much stronger than it was before. “Thank you, for dancing with me. For…for choosing to share this moment with me” you said meekly, making him look to you as one of his hands cupped your cheek, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin just as you’d done to him. For a moment the world was completely lost on you, it felt as if it was just the two of you here. “No matter the options, no matter the occasion I’d choose you, always” he confessed, tone so genuine, words so heartfelt that the butterflies in your stomach had returned tenfold, leaving you to bite your lip as you bit back a school-girlish giggle. If your mind wasn’t screaming at you to kiss him before, it most certainly was now. “Sil?” You inquired softly, watching as his eyes now trailed to your plush lips before returning your gaze, doing the same to you that you’d been doing to him this whole time. It nearly drove you wild, seeing the want in his eyes, the admiration. All for you. “Yes?” He asked in reply, watching a smile stretch to your lips before you spoke, looking at you expectantly. “Do us both a favor and just kiss me already, would you?” You responded in a cheeky but confident tone, making him hum in amusement at your boldness. He loved it about you, so unafraid to go for the things you wanted or that made you happy. He was honored to be that for you. “I thought you’d never ask” he answered, not wasting even a moment before his lips were on yours, finally answering all curiosities and all thoughts as he held you close. Vander gave an excited whistle and clap that left you smiling into it as you pulled him down against you a little more, showing him just how much you’d wanted this. He chuckled into it, responding by squeezing your hip as your lips melded together for a little while longer, a good handful of people cheering you both on before finally pulling apart. You smiled up at him excitedly as his hand grabbed yours, squeezing it lovingly.
“Well, as delightful as this has been, it’s about time for my shift to be over. Do you…maybe wanna get out of here?” You asked, hoping he would say yes, praying that when you went to put your apron back behind the bar and walk out, you’d be walking out with him. He tried so hard to hide his surprise and excitement at your question, but the way his brows raised a little and eyes opened a little wider didn’t go unnoticed by you, making you giggle softly as you saw it. “Are you asking me to come home with you?” He asked curiously, wanting to make sure he understood exactly what you were implying, not wishing to misread you and do something that would make you upset or assume something incorrectly. “Yes, yes I am” you replied as you looked up at him, awaiting his answer. He was dreaming, he must have been. Had you really just asked him to come home with you? “After you” he said, making you smile and giggle. “G-Great! Yeah, uhh just…let me put this behind the bar for tomorrow then we’ll head out” you replied, skittering behind the bar to quickly take off and fold your apron before tucking it away, informing Vander that you were headed home for the night. He shot you a grin and Silco a knowing glance as you walked back over to him, collecting your things before heading out the door together.
You smiled and giggled with excitement into your shared kiss as your back hit one of the walls in your home that you’d only just stepped foot in but a moment ago. You’d barely even made it in the door that was haphazardly shut with his foot, your hands running up from his chest to tangle in his neatly slicked back hair as your lips melded together in a sinful dance. His one hand rested against the wall, propping himself up with his arm and caging you in a little as the other sat at the back of your thigh, allowing your leg to rest against his hip so he could slot himself even closer to you. He’d spent long enough without you, long enough chasing circles around you, any space between you now was eliminated the moment it was noticed. You felt him slide closer to you between your legs, his other hand coming down from the wall to do the same to your other thigh, tapping it so you would hop up and wrap your legs around his hips. As you did so, he had you effectively pinned against the wall, your hips pressed against his with a moan as your tongues fought in a battle for dominance over the other. One he was delighted to let you win, allowing your tongue to explore his, the taste of whiskey, smoke and tobacco still hanging heavily from his lips. It was an addicting taste. You gasped into the kiss as he rolled his hips against yours, leaving you to pull away to rest your head against the wall as his lips trailed your neck, kissing and nipping at all your sensitive spots. He simply couldn’t get enough of you, your warmth, the feel of your soft skin against his own, the sounds of your melodic moans filling his ears, it was all such bliss. And Janna almighty was he a lucky man to be the one who gets to see you like this. His nimble fingers danced curiously beneath the bottom of your shirt, calloused hands caressing your waist. He aided you in removing your shirt, leaving you there before him in your bra and the sight alone made him throb against you, earning a quiet gasp with delight as you looked to him excitedly. Lust filled your gaze, pupils nearly encompassing the entirety of your irises as a smile still rested on your lips, waiting for his next move. His hands found their way behind you, undoing the clasps to your bra and watching as you tossed it aside without a care. “Beautiful” was all he could say as he gazed upon you, leaving you to blush and give a hum in response.
Once you’d finally made it to your bedroom, you aided in the removal of his shirt, undoing the buttons, unraveling all the stylish layers teasingly yet carefully slow while looking up at him. You notified his fingers twitched with anticipation, patiently waiting for you to finish so he could feel your skin against his once more. Once they’d finally been undone, they trailed along your floor towards the foot of your bed, allowing you to gaze upon his slender form. You smiled with all the kindness in the world as you gazed upon him, looking at him as if he were a god standing before you, offering himself to you. It all felt so unreal. Your hands rested on his chest once he’d leaned in closer, begging for the taste of your lips against his once more, helping you to lay on your back as he kissed you much softer this time. Your arms looped around his neck to hold him close, inviting him to continue. He eagerly straddled your frame, one of his hands coming down to caress the curve of your waist before reaching upwards to your chest. He paused for a moment, unsure of whether it was okay for him to touch, so you took the chance to grab his hand, placing it there for him with a playful grin into your shared kiss before looping your arms back around him, hands splayed against his lithe figure. You moaned sweetly in response as he massaged your breast in his hand, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth and tangle with your own, deepening the kiss.
Before you knew it his hand was trailing down your frame once again, fingers slipping past your naval and down towards the waistband of your pants. He broke the kiss to work at the button of your pants, leaving you panting for air as a flush set against your cheeks. You giggled as you watched him fumble with the button and zipper for a little bit, the eager shake of his hands making it prove to be a bit more difficult before he was finally able to get it undone. He looked to you for permission as his fingers hooked in the waistband, waiting for you to tell him it was okay. When your hands pushed down against his own to help them inch down your hips, he took that as his answer, pulling them, along with your panties, down and off of your legs before tossing them behind him unceremoniously, making you laugh. “Eager, are we?” You teased with a grin, making him chuckle. “I don’t think you understand just how long I’ve wanted you” he replied, sending a pleasant shudder down your spine and stoked the fire burning in your core at the thought that he’s craved you like this. That he’s fantasized about this. “Then what are you waiting for?” You asked, making him shoot you a crooked grin before sinking down and settling between your legs, laying gentle yet hot kisses to your inner thighs. “For you to scream my name for all of Zaun to hear as I please you like no one else can” he responded confidently with a much deeper tone, hands resting on your thighs and keeping them spread as he brought his lips to your throbbing clit.
Your reaction was immediate, back arching slightly from the mattress as your hands flew down to tangle in his hair. “Fuck…” you cursed quietly before moaning as his tongue licked flatly up your slit then fluttered against your aching bud. He moaned into you at your taste, opening his eye to look up at you as he sat between your legs lavishing you with attention, and gods above was he graced with a beautiful sight. Your eyes screwed shut, mouth open as moans billowed from your throat unrestrained, your chest heaving up and down with each labored breath. His every fantasy was ruined in this moment, because nothing, absolutely nothing would ever look better than you do right now. Nothing will ever hold a candle to your beauty as he pleased you. You looked fucking ethereal. Nothing could have possibly prepared him for it, for how perfect you looked, how delicious you tasted, how sexy you sounded moaning his name like a mantra for a lost god. He’d give anything to stay here, like this. All you’d ever have to do is ask.
You felt as one of his nimble fingers prodded at your entrance, easing its way in thanks to the mix between your slick and his saliva before searching for any of your sensitive spots. You gasped as he curled his finger within you, feeling him rubbing against your gummy walls as his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking it. It left you dizzy, weak even, with just how good it felt. “Gods, yes! Just like that” you encouraged, one hand smoothing through his hair as you looked down at him while he worked you with his mouth, your fingers of your other hand coming up to toy with one of your sensitive nipples, adding to your pleasure. He groaned into you as he took notice of this, enjoying the sight of you playing with yourself as he brought you pleasure, listening to you moan his name like a prayer. None of Zaun would be able to mistake who had you feeling this good once he was through with you. His free hand came up to mirror your ministrations, showing your other breast some much needed attention. You gave a louder moan in surprise as he pinched it playfully between his thumb and index finger before rolling it beneath the pad of his thumb to soothe. The pain sent a bolt of pleasure straight to your clit, making him grin against you as he worked a second finger inside of you whilst skillfully tweaking your nipple.
You started to feel that all too familiar feeling of tension beginning to fester and rise in your lower belly, so close to snapping any moment now. Your hips rutted against his tongue and fingers, making him moan into your cunt as you used him for your pleasure, trying desperately to gain any bit of friction you could to propel you over the edge, and allow you to tumble into euphoria. “So close, please…” you begged through breathless pants, absolutely desperate to cum. It was when his fingers curled and rubbed against your walls once more that he found that spongy spot within you that lit your every nerve ending on fire. “Right there! Oh gods, Silco please” you let out, making him continue exactly what he was doing, hearing as your voice raised a bit higher in pitch, feeling your walls begin to tighten around his fingers. Before you could even think to warn him, your orgasm was rushing over you, consuming you whole as you screamed his name without a care for any consequence. Your back arched from the bed, eyes rolling back and your legs attempting to shut tightly as you twitched and writhed with every movement of his tongue and fingers that worked to help you down from cloud nine and draw out your pleasure for as long as possible, careful not to overstimulate you. Perhaps that could be saved for another day, should he be lucky enough.
He wiped his lips of your slick with the back of his hand before trailing them back up your body, stopping to suck gently on one of your nipples purely to see you writhe against him with need. He chuckled at your pathetic whine as your fingers came to the waistband of his pants, giving them an impatient tug. “Need me that bad, do you?” He asked with a cheeky grin down at you, the sight of you beneath him like this better than any dream he’s ever had. Seeing your hair settle around you against the sheets, the sight of you naked before him, glowing from the after effects of your orgasm that *he’d* given you. Seeing you wanting him just as much as he’d wanted you. It was unreal. “I don’t think you understand just how long I’ve wanted you” you replied cleverly, using his own words against him like he had done to you earlier, making him chuckle once more. Could you be any more perfect? “Then what are you waiting for?” He asked, making you grin deviously as you flipped him over on his back this time, straddling his hips now as your hand pressed against his chest, keeping him pressed against the mattress beneath you. His eyes looked to you with surprise at your quick and dexterous movements before waiting to hear what you had to say in response. “For you to take your pants off so all of Zaun can listen as you please me like no one else ever will” you replied with a confident grin, watching as he did exactly as you asked.
You both moaned pleasantly as he bottomed out, fully seated inside of you now, the angle allowing him to sit deeper within you as you straddled his hips. You gave yourself a moment to adjust, leaning down to kiss him once more to distract yourself from the momentary pain of the stretch. You could feel him throb inside of you with excitement, each pulse of his cock sending a pleasant tingle to your core. It was as he shifted his hips a little to get more comfortable that both of you moaned, the movement accidentally causing him to thrust into you a bit. So you started to move up and down on him at a slow pace to start, testing the waters to see if you were ready. And fuck, were you ready. He was in so deep like this that his tip nestled against your cervix each time you would sink back down onto him. It was heavenly. “Fuck…” you sighed as you started to pick up the pace a little, the sounds of his thighs meeting your ass, your shared panting and the slight creak of the bed becoming louder with your efforts, filling your room with the sinful symphony of sex. His hands slipped down your body to rest at your hips, gripping them tightly as he watched you skillfully bounce up and down on his cock, enjoying the sight of his length disappearing inside of you then peeking back out. “Janna almighty…” he let out, absolutely enraptured with the way your cunt wrapped around him so well, welcoming him so perfectly, he couldn’t help it. You were so warm, so wet, so tight around him that it left him breathless, fighting to not cum so soon. You couldn’t help but to giggle at his remark. “Feel good?” You asked between breathless pants, watching as he looked up at you, bewildered that you could possibly ask such a question. “Better than good, you feel incredible” he replied, a groan leaving him upon a particularly harsh thrust of your hips, watching you get lost in your pleasure as you rode him. You were quite the sight to behold while in the throws of your pleasure, watching your beautiful tits bounce as you moved, your head tilted back and eyes close as you’d find that perfect rhythm that drove you both wild. Every bit of you was so perfect in his eyes, he just simply couldn’t get enough. He watched as you bit your soft, kissable lips, teeth working at them and it made him crave the taste of them again, the feel of them against his own.
He sat up for a moment, bringing himself now eye level with you as you continued to ride him but now at a different angle. One that was even better. You hadn’t even thought that possible. He chased your lips, capturing them with his own as he started to thrust his hips up into you, matching your pace with precision. With each roll of his hips, not only was he hitting deeply inside, but your clit was getting new found attention, leaving you to moan into the kiss as you met his thrusts eagerly. “You’re perfect” he complimented, his lips trailing kisses down your neck to your shoulder as you felt that ever familiar coil begin to wind tight in your core again. It was as you were about to reach your peak that the words left you before you could even register that you’d said them. “I love you” you confessed, panting as you looked upon him with a blush tinting your cheeks and a hopeful, yet vulnerable look in your eyes that told him your sentiment was completely sincere. That this meant something far more to you than just a heated moment to be forgotten about or never spoken of once morning came. You loved him. He smiled so purely, so joyfully as the words graced his ears. “For so long I’ve dreamt of hearing those words from you” he replied, making you smile back as you finally realized that the feeling was mutual, no longer scared of the potential of rejection. “I love you” he reciprocated, making your heart race as you kissed him, your hands cupping his face as he held you, rutting his hips up into you with newfound fervor. “So close…” you panted once you both broke apart for air, feeling yourself sit dizzily at the edge of bliss as his lips trailed along your neck. “Cum for me, darling. Give it to me” he said, angling his hips perfectly to stroke that spot deep inside of you that had you keening. That was all it took. The tension within your core blossomed to warmth as your every nerve ending surged with fiery pleasure, your walls clenching around him as you moaned his name loudly, clinging to him for dear life whilst your orgasm consumed you. The sight of you twitching and nearly convulsing in ecstasy, mixed with the way your cunt squeezed him even tighter sent him toppling over the edge soon after, spilling himself inside of you with a deep, almost guttural groan. You gave a pleased hum at the sensation, feeling him throb within you and fill you so incredibly full as you both sat there, fighting to catch your breath and looking upon one another in awe. Enjoying the buzzing sensation of your shared afterglow, you leaned in to the press a gentle, loving kiss to his lips, further solidifying that your words genuine and that this moment had indeed meant something. When you pulled back, your hand resting gently on the scarred side of his cheek, you were graced with the most love struck look, making you smile and giggle. “What?” You asked, a cheeky grin stretched to your lips. “Nothing, just taking in the view” he said, making you hum. “Is that so?” You asked. “You’re incredible” he said, turning to kiss your palm as he held his hand against the back of yours, leaning into your soft touch, simply wishing to stay there and enjoy the intimacy of the moment together.
It was as you were both lying there in your bed peacefully, having come back from getting cleaned up, you’d even gone another round whilst in the shower, as an entertaining thought came to you. “You wanna know something funny?” You asked, propping your head up on your hand, leaning your weight on your elbow as you laid on your side, facing him. “What’s that?” He asked, eyes trailing over your frame with wonder, in awe of the fact that you truly were here before him, and that you both shared such an intimate moment together not only once, but twice. Your top half was peaking out from beneath the blanket, allowing him the view of your chest and all the marks he’d left upon your delicate skin as he waited with much anticipation for what you had to say. “If you think about it; it took us dancing with one another to stop dancing around each other. Kinda funny how that worked out, don’t you think?” you spoke with a grin, making you both laugh. “I suppose it is” he replied, making you smile and hum as you looked to him lovingly, happy to see him here with you, happy to have shared what you did with him. “I love you, Sil. Thanks again for tonight” you said sweetly, making him smile as you said it. “I love you too, and thank you” he replied as you cuddled up to him beneath the covers, his arm slung around your frame protectively as you began to drift peacefully to sleep in his arms.
Perhaps heaven wasn’t a moment in time, or an action to be taken, but rather a person, and as you sat there in his arms, he could confidently say that you were that person.
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archangeldyke-all · 1 month ago
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giggling so bad imagining R shaving her bush and sevika being like oh my god do u hate me?!?! what did I do?!?! how can I make it up to u I'm sorry pleeeeeease never do this again we can talk it out next time please 😭😭
LMAOOO
men and minors dni
last month, your period crept up on you, and you woke up half convinced you'd been stabbed in your sleep.
you and sevika didn't even try to salvage the sheets, just throwing them in the trash before re-making the bed. your pajamas were ruined, and, grossest of all, your crotch was a sticky, bloody mess.
so, this month to avoid any more incidents, you've been sleeping on a towel in anticipation, wearing a pad to bed just in case, and... you've shaved.
you haven't shaved in years. you and sevika are both bush enjoyers, and neither of you have ever felt the need to take a razor to your pits or legs since you started dating. finding a razor to use is almost impossible, but you manage to find one buried in the far back of your bathroom closet.
you feel so... cold. and smooth. you're hyper-aware of the feeling of your underwear rubbing on your skin. it's strange. not unpleasant, but strange. with one last look down your pants at your hair-less pussy, you shrug and crawl into bed.
you think that's the end of it.
you go to sleep easily, waking up about an hour later when sevika crawls in bed behind you. she kisses you gently and you hum, wrapping your arms around her before you both fall asleep.
in the morning, though, you wake up to a horrified gasp.
"what!? what is it, is someone breaking in?" you ask, sitting up in bed and rubbing your eyes. as you pull your hands away, though, you don't find sevika sitting beside you where she should be. she's hovering on top of you on all fours, a horrified look on her face. "sevika, what?!" you ask, your heart pounding in your chest.
"you shaved?!" sevika cries. you blink, your mind still half asleep, before finally looking down at your crotch.
you burst into laughter as you do. sevika's pulled your pants down your thighs in your sleep, clearly trying to give you a nice wake up call, and she's just now seeing your bare cunt. "sevika, for fuck's sake, i thought something horrible happened!" you laugh.
"something horrible has happened! why the fuck did you shave!?" sevika asks, her eyes wide and heartbroken. "d-did i piss you off, or something? whatever it is, baby, i promise i'll make it up to yo--"
"sevika!" you cackle. sevika pouts as she looks up from your pussy to your face. "baby, i shaved because my period's on the way and i didn't wanna deal with the mess again."
sevika's looking at you like you've lost your mind. "wha-- fuck that!" she whines. you chuckle. "what the fuck am i supposed to do when i'm goin' down on you now? my nose is gonna get all cold, i won't have anything to run my fingers through..." sevika looks seriously upset. you giggle just a little at the absurdity of the situation, then reach up to cup her face.
"it'll grow back, baby." you promise. sevika frowns.
"but then you'll just shave it off again!"
"no, i won't babe." you say. "not if you feel this strongly about it. plus, it's a lotta work-- i was scared to death i was gonna cut one of my lips off or something."
sevika chuckles. "thank you." she sighs, kissing your lips. you grin.
"thank you. y'know, most people have to deal with the opposite-- their partners forcin' them to shave before any intimacy at all... i'm glad you prefer the option that requires the least amount of work possible for me."
sevika giggles and kisses you. "i am pretty amazing, aren't i?" she asks. you nod.
"the fuckin' best." you agree.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette
@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp
@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner
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@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed
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rawbin-hsr · 2 months ago
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Rating HSR characters in relationships
Title is self-explanatory <3
Characters: Boothill, Dr Ratio, Blade, Aventurine (separately)
⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰
CW: cursing, mostly fluff and some crack
CW Aventurine's part: toxic dynamics, emotional neglect, jealousy, Aventurine in general
Lmk if there's any warnings I should add!
Had to restrain myself on Dr. Ratio I have soo bad brain worms about him rn he’s all I think about
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
Boothill
10/10
DO NOT. AT ME. I PROMISE I’VE THOUGHT THIS THROUGH. I know most people who read that will be like “what the fuck Boothill would NOT be a perfect partner” and that’s where you’re right ! No, he would be an awful partner !
For MOST people. 
But see, he wouldn’t be just ANYONE’S partner. 
If you’re dating him, it means you’re exactly his type and he’s exactly yours. You wouldn’t date a guy like him if he wasn’t exactly what you wanted. He lays out all his cards on the table right away. Your relationship won’t have the chance to even begin if you’re not head over heels immediately bro 😭😭😭
With most characters I can imagine them in a relationship with a lot of different kinds of people. Like for example yeah I can imagine Aventurine both dating someone more reserved and sweet or someone bold and loud. Or someone like Argenti Lord knows that man could love ANYONE (or anyTHING tbh), but with Boothill there’s just a very narrow range of personalities I can imagine him with. Hence the rating cause he’d only be in one kind of relationship. 
You guys are a POWER COUPLE I tell you. It’s SICKENING how much you love each other and how well you fit together. Two peas in a pod. I’m gonna throw up. 
You both love the exact same things, you both HATE the exact same things, and you are both equally deranged and insane
The IPC hates to see you coming 💀🙏
You’re constantly in a friendly competition to outdo each other. Who has the higher bounty ? (Usually him) Who can drink most alcohol before blacking out ? (You, surprisingly) Who can kiss the other the most times during this high-speed chase ? (You always tie on this)
He swallows a bullet. You say “I’ll do you one better!” and swallow a knife. You are a human and so he needs to take you to the hospital so you don’t fucking die
(You both think it’s funny afterwards so it’s okay)
Even when you guys “argue” it’s never really that serious. Honestly you both think it’s kind of hot…… you argue in a devious, sexy way……. *smirks mischievously*
Sorry I cannot take him seriously
You match his freak <3
Nobody fucking likes you together. Separately ? Sure people like you. But the moment the two of you are in the same room it’s like you merge into one singular, horrible, annoying entity and NOBODY wants to be around to see it 😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏 neither of you have gotten a lecture about how inappropriate pda can be and also the two of you speak total nonsense it’s incomprehensible to everyone else
Considering putting Boothill on my “do not request” list, not because I don’t like him but because even I don’t understand how the two of you would fit together I can’t write it y’all are that weird
Boothill is for the freaks and he is PERFECT FOR THEM !!!
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
Dr. Ratio
9/10
Okay I’ll be honest I’m not very caught up on Dr Ratio (I briefly hated him I only recently started liking him again HELP) so forgive me if there is some mischaracterisation in this I’m working on it my view on him isn’t complete yet 🙏🙏
Though Ratio is very ruled by logic, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have emotions. Furthermore, he views these emotions as important. Logic is not inherently opposed to emotions, and in fact, ignoring them would be illogical. 
That is to say, yes, he’s an intellectual man. But he also has a high emotional intelligence 😇😇
Like not in the way of knowing how to cope with them. I don’t think he feels many strong emotions regularly (except for annoyance lol), so I think he in fact gets kind of overwhelmed by them around you and never knows how to regulate them properly HELP
But what I meant to say is that, in a relationship, he considers your thoughts and feelings a lot and makes an effort to prioritise them. He does not want for you to be unhappy. 
He values you very highly. He takes all your opinions into consideration and treats them with respect.
He loves you a lot it’s actually ridiculous. He frequently gets annoyed at himself for how much he finds himself downright SIMPERING over you. 
And like yes Ratio can be very harsh in the way he speaks but I think that 1, his care for people (including the “fools” and “idiots” he seems to scorn so often) shows and it shows even more apparently for people he cares about, and 2 I think he realises it would be inappropriate to be as rude as he usually is to you. You two are in a relationship, you are not some stranger. He cannot go around criticising you constantly, that would not be a healthy dynamic. Meaning he softens his vocabulary for you. 
His care for you is very blatantly obvious. In the beginning I think he’s a bit embarrassed to show you affection. He hasn’t ever dated anyone, much less been in a relationship, with anyone before you (I honestly don’t even think he’s had his first kiss 😭😭), so I think his inexperience plays a part in it. But he still shows you as obviously as he can that he loves you, and he doesn’t shy away from vulnerability in private moments. 
Bro has researched how to be a good partner trust 🤞
He communicates very clearly with you as often as possible. He hates misunderstandings, and tries to avoid them whenever possible. The two of you are almost always on the same page. 
Whenever you argue, he still does not want you to leave the argument feeling unloved. Type to sigh, let his eyes soften and say “I believe it would be best if we both had some time to cool down”, then squeeze your shoulder as he passes you out of the room. Kisses you goodnight before you go to sleep. It’s often easier to talk it out the next day. 
The only things bumping him down from a 10/10 for me is the fact that he doesn’t have that much time to spare for time with only you (his schedule is very packed), and the fact that he cannot cope with his OWN emotions 😭 Great with yours because he can logistically figure out how to handle them, terrible with his own because they’re affecting his own mind and he isn’t used to it
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
Blade
7/10
Surprisingly high rating for a guy like him but I swear I’ve thought about this ok don’t leave 😔😔😔
I think it takes…. A lot. Like a lot a lot. To break through Blade’s tough outer shell
He hates letting people in so much it’s actually crazy
The closest person he has before he meets you is probably Kafka, and that’s not really by his own choice he would shut her out too if he could 😭😭
(Not to say he isn’t like, calm and polite to people. He’s pretty reserved and just, like, quiet ig usually, he only really gets weird and aggressive when the Mara flares up or he needs to be for a mission. I just mean he isn’t gonna be open and available for basically anyone lol)
It’s mainly difficult to GET INTO a relationship with Blade, but if you do manage it, it turns out a lot sweeter than you’d expect
He’s just a deeply tired man. He is not malicious, he is not unnecessarily cruel. He is worn out and sick of living, of never getting the rest he so desperately craves. He finds some sort of respite in you, and so he treasures you. 
He trusts your judgement. He stands by you, no matter what. He’s loyal to a fault once you have him. The worst that could ever happen to him now is losing you. Even when he thinks you’re about to do something stupid (and he always tells you when he thinks it’s stupid), he’ll come with you. Better he’s there to take the hit for you than letting you go alone. 
Even with the smaller things, he shows it even more obviously. He cooks you dinner and lunch every day, so you don’t have to. He lets you decorate his apartment, and he never adjusts the things you place in it, even when it clashes horribly with his own style. He lets you drag him along anywhere, whether it be a concert or a park, without complaint. 
The main downsides with Blade are that he never, ever, verbally tells you that he loves you. Maybe once during your entire relationship he’ll say it, and probably when you’re on your deathbed, but he usually won’t. Even if you try to pry it out of him. 
He can be really mean in the way he says things sometimes, like telling you straight up your ideas are dumb, but it’s always softened by the way he agrees to do whatever you want anyways.
Another frustrating thing is how he cares very little for his own wellbeing. It’s a regular occurrence for him to come home with guts spilling out of his abdomen, and it’s really uncomfortable to see even if you know he can’t die. He can still feel pain, even if he’s learnt to cope with it well. It’s scary to see him so hurt so often. 
But you wouldn’t get into a relationship with him if you didn’t already know all this, hence why I rank him so high. He’s a lot better than you expected when you met him, which means you’re effectively in a better relationship than you’d have hoped 😭😭
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
Aventurine
4/10 💀💀
I love him so much (my content is mostly Aventurine centric) but holy fuck man,,,
I have never and will never sugarcoat it Aventurine is TOXIC. Like GENUINELY. I wouldn’t say abusive but he can be really cruel. He gets lost in his own head and takes it out on you in ways he doesn’t really mean to. Aventurine is not a good person. 
He’s fucked up in all sorts of ways and it’s no surprise it could easily destroy any relationship
Trust issues ? Jealousy issues ? Commitment issues ? Attachment issues ? Insecurity issues ? Mommy, daddy AND sister issues ? Every kind of possible issue you can probably imagine ? Yes on all fronts, bro’s the full issue package 💀
It would take a very special kind of person to endure in a relationship with him (I would not be able to do it if he was real I’ll be so honest)😭
When things are good, they’re really good. He can be so fun and playful and sweet and he loves to spoil you and everything that belongs to him belongs to you. He loves you more than the air he breathes and he’d do anything to make you happy
The issue is, most of the time, things are not in fact good. 
I keep mentioning it but his relationships are always such a push and pull. A game of hot and cold. One second he clings to you and begs you to never leave him, and the next he won’t respond to your calls or messages. 
Even worse, sometimes he’ll be outright mean in order to push you away, insinuating you’re “holding him down” and that you’re “wasting his time”. You’ll find yourself questioning if he actually does love you, because what sort of person does this to someone they love?
(It keeps him up at night when he treats you badly. He hates doing it, but he needs you to hate him as much as he hates himself.)
Usually he’s a really smart guy. Even when he does stupid things (things like making a purposeless high-risk gamble, playing Russian roulette), he’s fully aware of what he’s doing. (He does it because he kind of hopes he’ll actually die this time.) But with you, he loses all his composure and can’t really think straight. 
He feels safe with you, and that scares him. He’s a danger to your safety, and it’s better to push you away, make you hate him, than it is to let himself be happy with you. His life is beyond saving, so all he can do to you if you stay is drag you into his mess. He can’t fix himself, not even for your sake. 
He lies to you, he neglects you (sometimes for weeks at a time), he builds up new walls between you constantly, but at the same time he gets insecure and jealous when you hang out with others. Only when you threaten to leave him does he finally start getting his act together, because he realises that now that he’s had you, he couldn’t bear to live without you (even if he knows that’s very selfish of him). 
He gets better with time, but I really, really doubt he’ll ever be fully healed. It doesn’t help that his job wouldn’t really allow it, and he can’t leave the IPC through any other means than death. 
I originally ranked him as a 3/10 (diabolically low rating I know 💀💀) but I bumped him up one because he will get better. If you stick around long enough, he’d probably make it to a 7/10, but since that would take like over 4 years of being in a relationship with him I felt it would be unfair to rank him much higher 😭😭 At the start he really fucking sucks dude I’m so sorry my condolences 
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
My inbox is open, feel free to send in asks or requests, I'd love to ramble about things <3
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redflowersociety · 2 months ago
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Reacting to you getting hit on - Mouthwashing HC
Includes all characters. Pretense of you being their partner (excluding Swansea, though he is included).
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Jimmy
He is beyond pissed off. Both at the person hitting on you for coming anywhere near what’s supposed to be his, and at you (as if it’s your fault for being perceived). He curses the person out, making it clear to them and everybody around that you’re HIS partner. He makes a show of it in front of this stranger to repair his ego after the event. He’s the type of guy to drag you away, and forcefully make out with you within eyeshot of the person. He made a point to push all the right buttons to get you melting into his touch and meeting all his demands. He knows how to get you subservient, and that fact reassures him of his control.
After this, though? Expect him to be extra insecure for the following days. He’s completely convinced that you’d try to wriggle out of his grasp given the chance, and he just couldn’t let that happen. So he doesn’t let you go out the house without him, and when you both *are* out, he’s always got a hand on you, never allowing you out of his grasp. He needs both you, and everyone around to know that you already belong to somebody: him.
Curly
Curly trusts you. For him to settle with you, he must have a connection strong enough to reassure him that he won’t be used for his kindness, so of course he trusts you. He watches as you gently turn down the stranger, standing by but never once moving his gaze off of you two (mostly you). If he notices the stranger doesn’t take the first no, he steps in. He doesn’t mean to make you feel like a damsel in distress in need of saving, but he can’t bring himself to stand by and watch you get harassed. He promised to himself he wouldn’t stand by instead of protecting those he cares for, so he won’t.
Overall, it doesn’t stick with him in a negative way. Instead, your handling of the situation reassures him that he’s your only interest.
Post Crash
Although he has the same mentality as pre-crash Curly, there is an extra piece: He is horribly insecure of his appearance, and all that it represents. He shared to you the events that transpired on the Tulpar as a way of holding himself accountable. Every moment that passes, the guilt and hatred of his body plants seeds of doubt into his mind: Anybody is more attractive and could provide for you better than him. His past with Jimmy doesn’t help these feeling either.
So, it’s safe to say that the situation sticks with him. It makes it harder for him to accept reassurance. It takes a long time, and a LOT of reassurance for him to move on from it.
Daisuke
Daisuke is completely trusting of your love for him, but not of his own abilities or accomplishments. So, when he sees a guy with expensive jewelry or a well-kept appearance trying to get your number, it stings his heart. It’s not jealousy, as he knows that he’s the only one you want: it’s shame. He feels shameful that he can’t the perfect guy for somebody so perfect (you).
It’s not hard to notice that he’s feeling down when you hurry towards him after the interaction. You pull him somewhere a bit more private and cup his squishy cheeks, asking him what’s got him so upset. He hesitates for a moment, but soon leaves his emotions in your hands with the tears in his eyes that he just can’t manage to keep back.
He’d spill his guts to you about his worries, how he feels inadequate. You would have expected this, seeing how hard he tries to impress Swansea for approval. With a whole heap of kisses all over his face and neck, and soft spoken reassurance and words of encouragement, he’ll be back on his feet in no time.
Anya
Anya struggles to accept that others may see her for more than her body. So when she sees a woman with a more conventionally attractive body or face than her own hitting on you… she can’t help but feel a twinge of fear. Watching you reject the stranger kindly, however, reassured her again: she knew you weren’t that kind of person. You were never that shallow.
If a man happens to approach you, and won’t leave you alone, Anya pretends to be your sister or something similar to try to drive the man away. Safety in numbers, as they say. She’ll pull you away, and when times get desperate, it’ll be the first time you found out Anya never leaves her home without pepper spray!
Generally speaking, seeing you hit on doesn’t make her jealous or anything! She just wants you happy, letting your actions do the job at reminding her why she decided to give her heart to you.
Swansea
Who you share time with isn’t Swansea’s concern, he’s not your dad (or at least that’s what he tells himself)! But, if he did catch a glimpse of somebody making you uncomfortable…? Yeah, he’s stepping in and intimidating the shit out of the other person. Like hell he’d let some creep treat you that way when there’s something he can do about it!
If he caught you flirting back with someone, knowing you’ve got a partner… he’d definately be dissapointed.
Unless your partner was Jimmy. If it’s Jimmy, he’s hoping this stranger plays their cards right.
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