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#again: they are both horrible partners
dreadfuldevotee · 3 months
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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
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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 · 3 months
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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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luveline · 4 months
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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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bluelockmaniac · 3 months
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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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ellecdc · 2 months
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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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pissfizz · 2 years
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Hi
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slvttyplum · 2 months
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there it was: the infamous elevator that you and satoru were in multiple times, finally getting fixed. normal functioning adults with half a brain would be happy that the elevator leading to their penthouse was getting fixed, but you and satoru were practically shedding tears watching the two handymen working on it.  the banging is giving you a headache, but tears also threaten to fall out of your eyes.
now, obviously, both of you weren't idiots. obviously, there was a reason the two of you were saddened by the sudden fix.
three months ago is what started it all. the elevator that went from the lobby straight to satoru's penthouse broke; it sat in an empty hallway, not being used by anyone, and satoru couldn't have that, so he did what any horn ball with a sexy partner would do: put it to use.
yall would have sex in it, yall fucked in it so much that you were certain it was going to break again even if it wasn't in use at the moment. the adrenaline of fucking with the chances of getting caught made everything ten times sexier; it was fun; there's not much you could say about it other than that.
you were supposed to be the one to tell satoru that it was a horrible and irresponsible thing to do, especially since people walked by the elevator at all times of the day, but you loved the thrill, and the fact that you had to be quiet when satoru was digging his nails into your hips while he slammed into you, the tip of his dick pushing firmly on your sweet spot.
"shhh, baby, you don't want to get caught, do you?" a smirk on his face as he whispered into your ears. you were so easy to please; that's why this was so fun. he knew you couldn't keep down your moans forever, and that's when the possibility of getting caught came into play, because, in satoru's words…
"a slut that can't help but express how they feel."
sliding his fingers in your mouth to keep you from moaning but pushing them so far back into your mouth that you start to gag on them, watery eyes and a wet pussy as he slammed into you back to back.
fucking you deep like you were at home, but you weren't, causing limp legs and an aching core, but you were always going to do it again.
sneaking downstairs at two a.m. for some excitement as satoru pushes open the door as his hungry eyes trail over you, ready to eat everything but drink everything that came out of you. to be fair, the both of you shared some special moments in the elevator. the sex was amazing in it; it felt so different than in the bedroom or anywhere else, for that matter.
the way his hands rubbed over you and held you up felt so good; he made sure you were comfortable while still fucking you rough and deep, his lips kissing the back of your neck as his tongue slides over your skin, softly sucking on your sweet spot, and moans erupting from your mouth.
it wouldn't even be thirty minutes in, and the floors were slick with your fluids and his combining, along with his cum dripping out of you as he fucked it deep inside of you. the sound of his hips slapping against your ass, leaving you concerned but also aroused at the fact anyone can come in.
everything was perfect in that elevator, but satoru had something better.
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blockedbykei · 3 months
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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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roosterforme · 2 months
Text
Mr. Right Now Part 7 | Hangman x Reader
Summary: There's a difference between sex and intimacy, and Jake is feeling the latter for the first time in a long time. When he tells you that it's important to make sure your partner knows what you want and need, your reaction feels like the nail in his coffin.
Warnings: angst, fluff, smut, adult language, oral sex, p in v intercourse, 18+
Length: 3600 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader
Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist
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You weren't exactly sure what to think of the fact that Jake took the time to get out a washcloth and soak it in warm water before setting you down on the bathroom vanity and cleaning you up. He kissed you softly, nudging your knees so you'd spread your legs apart, and he gently ran the washcloth along your most intimate parts. Both of you were still naked, and even the sight of him soft while he took care of you made your heart pound.
He just took your virginity, and now he was whispering, "Take your time to get cleaned up and get dressed, Darlin'. I'm going to get you some more ice water, and then we can finish the pizza."
"Okay," you replied, unsure what else you should say. He walked out of the bathroom leaving you alone with skin that felt too hot and a nervous energy that you couldn't identify. You wished he was still touching you, so you quickly used the bathroom and dug around in his dresser drawer for a clean shirt before rushing out to the kitchen.
You felt a little sore, but it was a delicious ache that left you on the verge of smiling as soon as you saw him filling a wine glass with water in his underwear. "I'm ready for cold pizza," you announced, and he turned to take in the sight of you wearing his Texas Longhorns shirt with wide, green eyes.
Jake grunted in response as he headed your way with the wine glass in one big hand. When he dropped down onto the dining room chair he vacated earlier, he lured you over with his smirk and the sentence, "Nothing else is going to taste as good as you." Your steps faltered as you sucked in a deep breath, but he wrapped his free hand around your bare thigh. When he patted his lap, you met his eyes. "Have a seat."
You settled down as gingerly as you could on his thigh as he slid your glass of water next to the open pizza box, but your lips were already so close to his, you ended up kissing him. His thumb skimmed along your hip as he parted your lips with his own, tasting your tongue. He groaned softly, and your fingers threaded through his hair like that's where they belonged. Jake smiled against your lips.
"Alright, feed me some horrible pizza, or else I'll just keep wanting to taste you all night," he murmured.
You pulled away from him slowly and reached for one of the slices in the box. It was cold, and the cheese looked honestly not so great now, but you bit the end of the slice before holding it out for him.
"I don't know what you're complaining about," you said, licking your lips. "This is delicious."
Jake hummed as you fed him another bite from your hand. "I would eat this with you all the time." Your blood felt warmer as it pumped through your veins, and Jake leaned in to kiss your ear. "Do you want to stay over again?" 
His place was comfortable to you already, but you were in so deep. You could hardly understand how you got yourself here, having the best weekend you could remember with this man who you barely knew but for some reason were certain you could trust. 
But you took too long to answer, and as you stared at him with the half eaten slice of pizza in your hand, Jake muttered, "I can drive you home after you're done eating."
"No," you whispered. His gaze dipped down to your mouth as he frowned slightly, but you kissed him before you said, "I want to stay."
----------------------------
Jake was enjoying the nasty, cold pizza and the way you made him feel warm while you sat sideways across his lap. He was enjoying all of it too much. Just like he'd enjoyed you in bed. It was all too much, and he still wanted more.
You said you would stay over again, but what did he expect to happen tomorrow night? Especially when he could already tell he'd want even more. When he finally got you all snuggled against him in the bath earlier, you told him you had classes every morning at eight. He was going to have to drive you home at some point tomorrow, and he didn't know how to ask you if that was it. Or if there could be more.
He took another bite of the pizza from your hand and watched you nibble on the crust. You seemed contemplative, but that eager look was always there. "What's on your mind?" he asked, and you leaned against his shoulder, burying your face against his neck.
"Just reviewing the lessons in my mind," you whispered. "Making sure I don't forget anything."
Great. You were thinking about his lessons now when he just wanted to go off script. Showing you so much of himself the first time he had sex with you was probably his worst decision of all. He should have kept lesson eight simple, but instead he put himself out there, insisting he could show you more. Show you that there was a difference between fucking and intimacy. And now there was a pain in his chest. That's what he got for needing to be the best and somehow falling for you in the process.
Jake could feel your eyelashes flutter against his neck as your hand trailed down his chest to rest on his abs. You had no idea what you were doing to him, otherwise you'd definitely stop touching him like that. Or else you'd agree to never leave. 
"Is there a ninth lesson?" you asked softly.
All Jake needed was for you to always be safe and get exactly what you wanted. He tucked his fingers beneath your chin and tilted your face up so you were looking at him. "There's always another lesson," he said, kissing you softly before running his thumb along your lips. "Lesson nine: make sure you tell your wants and needs to your partner. Then everyone will be clear about the expectations."
"That makes a lot of sense," you replied, chin still resting in his palm as your fingers skimmed the top of his underwear. Your eyes were wide with innocence and something more. "So, what do you want?" you asked boldly. "What do you need?"
Jake's cock throbbed against your leg, and your lips curved into a little smirk. "Come on, Darlin'. That's not fair."
You dipped your fingers into his underwear and shifted your leg as you whispered, "What's unfair about it?"
He swallowed hard, wrapping his hand around your wrist before you could touch his erection. "This is supposed to be about you. Not me."
You moaned his name, sending his mind into a frenzy as your other hand tangled in his hair again. "I got exactly what I wanted, and somehow you also gave me something I didn't know I needed."
He closed his eyes as your lips met his neck. "This is about you first and foremost, Darlin'. Remember? It's never about the guy."
You kissed along his skin as you asked, "Even when he's as sweet as you are?" His hand left your wrist so he could cup your face, and before he knew it, you were wrapping your warm fingers around his cock. "I want to give you head if you'll let me. Or I want to at least try."
Jake's head tipped back, eyes squeezed shut as he throbbed shamelessly in your hand. There was no way he could make up an excuse or lie to you, not after the day the two of you had together. "I both want and need your mouth on my cock," he groaned, already wondering if he could last long enough to enjoy it.
He stood up and hauled you over to the couch where he'd made a mess all over you earlier, prepared to do the same again now. He kissed you hard on the mouth, hand rough at the back of your neck. You whimpered in response and rubbed yourself against him. He wanted you every which way he could imagine. He wanted you to experience everything with you. But right now, you were the one pushing him down so he was sitting with his hard cock hanging out of the front of his underwear.
You looked too good in his Texas Longhorns shirt as you leaned down with your hands on his knees. "I've never done this before. Just so you're clear about your expectations."
"Jesus Christ," Jake grunted, and you sank to your knees between his spread legs as your hand slid up to wrap around his cock. He shimmied his underwear down lower on his thighs, and you looked up at him before pulling them completely off.
"But I have watched porn," you promised, letting your lips brush along his tip.
"Fuck," he growled. "Every time you say that, I lose my mind a little bit more."
You gave him a little nudge with your nose, clearly comfortable around him. "Will you tell me if it's bad? I don't want to be bad at this."
Jake held eye contact with you and slowly shook his head as you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock and gave him a little swipe with your tongue like you were enjoying a lollipop. His balls tightened up knowing you'd never had another man like this. Another slow swipe of your tongue and he had to reach for your cheek and stroke your soft skin to keep himself grounded.
"It won't be bad. It couldn't be," he promised, swallowing hard. "You're smart, and frankly guys are easy to please when it comes to some pretty lips and an eager tongue."
Your lips were a little puffy from all of the kissing between the two of you, and when you pulled him free, you gave him a little pout. "But I want to be good for you." He felt dizzy again. "I want to know what you like, the same way you told me to be vocal about what I like. You've had blowjobs from probably dozens or maybe hundreds of women."
You were probably overestimating those numbers, but Jake could barely think as you grazed him with your nose again. "Darlin'," he grunted without another single thought in his head.
"Should I... take this shirt off or something?" you asked, gaze innocent even as your lips brushed along him. "You know, to turn you on more?"
Jake laughed as his head tipped back against the couch, dizzy all over again. "If I were any more turned on right now, you'd have my cum everywhere."
"Oh," you gasped, voice sounding delighted, drawing his gaze back to your pretty face. That's when you let go of him to tug his shirt over your head, discarding it on the couch next to his leg, and all he could do was stare with his mouth hanging open at how damn bold you were.
He was hard as a rock as your tits swayed while you repositioned yourself, and then your took a few inches of him. It didn't feel like you didn't know what you were doing, and he couldn't decide if that's because you were a natural or because he'd find anything you did to be a turn on. Your eyes were trained on his face as you took another inch of his cock, clearly looking for some feedback, but all he could say was, "Please, don't stop."
You made a soft sound as you took more of him, and as soon as your lips brushed his trimmed pubic hair, you gagged. Stars clouded his vision as his fingers wrapped around the discarded shirt. You gagged again and started to withdraw him, and when he was able to look at you clearly, he was panting slightly.
"Does that feel good?" you asked, mindlessly pumping his wet cock with your hand while you waited for an answer.
He nodded and said, "I'm going to finish distressingly fast. Especially given how long I was able to last in your perfect pussy."
You looked so proud of yourself as you whispered, "Tell me what you like."
As soon as your lips wrapped around him again, he placed one gentle hand at the back of your head and muttered, "I'll show you."
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Jake's breathing grew more ragged each time you took him deep enough to make yourself gag. And you loved the sound of his grunts and groans as much as you loved the pressure of his hand on your head and neck.
"That's it," he crooned when you sucked on him just like he had instructed. "That's it, Darlin'." His hips were rolling slightly now as you licked and sucked, absorbing everything he said and did. While he only gave you subtle instructions, it seemed like it was all designed to make you more curious. And now you desperately wanted to make him come. You wanted to taste him and feel him in your mouth at the same time.
When you needed to catch your breath, you licked around his balls, and the sound he made was one of the hottest things you'd ever heard. "You like that?"
"Uh huh," he grunted, eyes wild as you did it again. "Fuck. Fuck. I'm getting real close. Jesus Christ, your tits look good. You're fucking killing me."
You smirked, knowing taking the shirt off had been a good idea. The only problem was that you wanted to taste him, but your pussy was also wet with desire now. He did tell you to let him know what you needed and wanted, so you went for it. "Jake, my pussy is soaked," you whispered before licking a steady line back to his tip. "Will you fuck me again later?"
"For the love of god," he groaned, rubbing his free hand over his face. "I'll do anything you want. I'll fuck you all night. Anything, Darlin'."
You felt strangely powerful as you took him all the way again, reveling in the way it felt to gag on his cock. When you bobbed your head, you could feel how tight his entire body became. Like a coil ready to snap.
"I'm so fucking close," he whined as you sucked. "You don't have to swallow." You frowned up at him with your mouth full. "You want to swallow?" he asked softly, and you nodded which made him groan again. "It'll be different than when I came on you, and some women don't like the taste."
You pulled him free and said, "I already tasted you earlier. I want to feel you to cum in my mouth," before taking him deep one more time. Jake moaned your first name as his fingers tightened around the back of your neck. 
"God damn, god damn," he chanted, cheeks ruddy. "So good."
And then he came, and you tasted him. It was shocking how suddenly your mouth felt full, but he tasted as good as he did before, and you tried to swallow him quickly. But you could feel some of his cum drip down your chin as you looked up at him. 
Jake dragged his thumb through it before coaxing your lips apart. You licked it clean before he scooped up a little more and fed it to you. His breathing was calmer now as his cock softened and rested on his thigh, and you couldn't stop looking at what you'd turned him into. He was somehow relaxed and also more keyed up than ever.
"I love the way it tastes," you whispered, already feeling your face heat up at the simple admission. "I already want more." You weren't sure if it was just Jake who tasted so good that you'd happily drop to your knees at the mere suggestion of it, or if it was every man. But his next sentence had you scrambling onto his lap.
"You already sound like a cum slut."
But you knew no shame whatsoever, completely naked in his arms. "Will you cum in my mouth again? Please?"
He kissed you, swiping his tongue along yours, and you could imagine just how that tasted. Then his fingers dug into the tops of your thighs, and he pulled you up so you were standing on his couch on shaky legs with your pussy right in font of his face. "I said I'd do anything you wanted, and I meant it. But right now this is what I want to do."
Jake was being bossy, and you loved it. He guided you where he wanted you, and then his mouth was all over your pussy. Lesson nine... lesson nine... make sure your partner is clear about what you want and need. "I want to come all over your face," you gasped, tangling your fingers in his hair to keep yourself upright as his tongue traced a devilish little circle around your clit.
"You will, Darlin'."
-------------------------------
The floodgates had opened. You were just as insatiable as Jake was. It was so late now as you and he worked through the rest of that box of condoms you found in his bathroom, exploring each other in every way imaginable. Every time he even looked at you, it was with more intent than he was used to, and that was just fueling how badly he wanted you. And you welcomed his every suggestion, surprising him at every turn with some of your own.
There was a condom wrapper abandoned somewhere near the couch where you'd asked him to fuck you doggy style. The lack of eye contact didn't feel any less intimate when he had his lips pressed to your neck and ear, coaxing your orgasm from you one word at a time. 
There was another condom wrapper on the bathroom vanity where he was currently giving you a slow thrust from behind where both of you could watch each other in the mirror. His cheeks were flushed pink as you gasped his name, and his lips connected with the side of your neck. "Good girl," he whispered, praising you every time you thrust back against him. "Get what you want. Tell me what you want."
The front of his body was pressed to yours, and he was gently squeezing your breasts, enjoying the look and feel of them as his thrusts made them bounce. You grabbed his wrist, never breaking eye contact in the mirror as you dragged his hand lower and said, "Make me come."
Sex was never this simple or this complicated for him before. Being with you felt effortless. Both of you were making your expectations known, and he was enjoying every second of being in your presence. But he was already hesitant about dropping you off at your dorm. When he kissed your shoulder and dragged his fingers along your clit, he knew he needed to say something about the feeling in his chest, but he just couldn't do it. That's not why you were here.
"I think you made me good at sex," you whimpered, bracing both hands on the sink vanity as you tossed your head back and came on his cock. It was beautiful. All of it. He slowed his fingers as you rode out your orgasm, and his hand came to rest low on your belly. 
"There was never a single moment when you weren't," he promised, and then you were kissing him over your shoulder. It wasn't just sex either, because now he couldn't wait to get you cleaned up and take you to his bed for the rest of the night. And that thought was enough to make him come inside you for what felt like the hundredth time today.
He was exhausted. Wrung out. He had nothing left to give you physically at the moment, but as if by instinct, you turned around in his arms to face him as soon as he was done grunting your name, and you tossed your arms around his neck. He kept you caged in there between his body and the sink in his dimly lit bathroom while you gave him the sweetest kisses, bodies slick with sweat. Neither of you said a word for a long time, even as the kisses tapered off so your cheek was simply resting on his chest, and he traced soft shapes along your hip. He felt you yawn, and he had to fight the urge to as well as he finally forced himself to take a step away from you.
"It's late, Darlin'. Let me get you cleaned up," he whispered as he removed the condom, not bothering to find the wrapper to join it in the trash can. He reached for a clean washcloth, and you let him take care of you while you yawned again, and then the two of you brushed your teeth side by side before he took your hand.
The window was still cracked from last night when you had asked if he could hear the ocean in his room, and he pushed it open a little further as you climbed into his bed like you belonged there. He was going to be completely unable to separate his feelings from the physical acts between you and him this weekend, but he tucked himself in behind you anyway. Once again fell asleep to the sounds of your soft breathing and the waves crashing in the distance. 
-----------------------------
I love them, but they are so oblivious about what the other one is feeling. Darlin', there's a reason you're so comfortable around Jake. Jake, there's a reason you can't get enough of her. Just a few more chapters left. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 8
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funlovinzara · 2 months
Text
Monster trio rejecting you Pt.2
The long awaited part 2! I absolutely loved writing Zoros part🙏
Warnings: angst, a bit of fluff
———-
Luffy
Surprisingly it wasn’t as hard to get over him because you knew he was just a knuckle head like that
On your new adventures you met new people, one specifically caught your eye.
Ace.
Ace was caring, funny, charming and very welcoming to be around. You both shared contacts on a transponder snail and talked 24/7, 365. Everyone knew the bond you had and left it alone, except luffy. He always saw you speaking on the snail but never knew who was on the other side.
The crew made a stop to a new island but everyone was waiting for you, who was talking on the transponder snail in your room.
“Finally a new adventure!! Lets go-!”
“LUFFY! Wait we cant leave without y/n!! This island is larger than anything we’ve ever seen before and ANYONE can get lost anytime!!”
Luffy sighed in annoyance and stomped off to your room and busted in
“Y/N!! LETS GO ALREADY!!” He yells with his chest
You jump in fear and quickly whisper to the other side of the snail “i gotta go!” And hung up.
“Who are you always talking to on that thing anyway?”
You sigh in defeat and answer “Ace, i talk to ace.”
“Ace? Huh? Why?”
“Well, I think he’s pretty cool and i like him.”
“I thought you liked me?”
“What?”
“You cant like-like me and like-like Ace? I thought we were just starting to get closer?”
You have a dumbfounded look on your face and you laugh at the misunderstanding. Maybe he understood after all, but i wonder why he would hide it.”
———
Sanji
Of course it was ALOT more difficult to get over him. You were devastated at how unreasonable he was, it was ridiculous.
So you decided to just not respond often when Sanji would speak to you, it was pointless anyway. He was still trying to pick up a conversation even after all that.
Sanji had a really bad dream one night, it was him re-experiencing the events at Sabaody, you werent there during that time but he dreamt that you were.
He woke up inna horrible cold sweat and immediately walked to the front of the ship, he needed some air. However when he walked out to see his crew doing there normal shenanigans, something was off.
He looks over at you to see you chatting, with brook?? How come your more comfortable around brook than him? He was an even bigger pervert than him.
“Y/n, may i see your pant-.” You swat brook on the side of his arm and slightly yell/giggle “no way brook!”
You clear your throat and begin to say “Thank you brook for helping me get over Sanji though, its really nice to have someone to talk to when no one else is around.” You leaned in and gave brook a deep hug.
“YOHOHOHOHO! Y/n it is a pleasure!! You flatter me, im blushing!! Although i am a skeleton so i cant really blush!! Yohoho!”
He hugs back and swings you around and you both laugh in glee. Sanji saw all of this and he thought, what did he even do wrong.
————
Zoro
In this you ARE included in the Sabaody Arc
It was VERY difficult to get over Zoro especially since he would never talk to you anymore. Nami being the jerk she was partnered you and Zoro together to walk around. She said it was for the “bonding experience”
She kept trying to bring back the spark that you and Zoro had but it will never work anymore.
You heard that day there was going to be an auction so you left to go check it out, you found the auction house and decided to take a seat not paying attention to your surroundings.
“X’cuse me?” Said a man next to you. It startled you and you jump. turning your head to look at him.
“That seat isn’t for you.”
His voice was DEEP.
“Oh- ill move- sorry.” A bear in a seat behind him leans over and says. “Come on boss lets let her stay! Shes really pretty!”
“Bepo-.” “Pleaseee!! Come on you need more allies than foes in this place anyway!”
The man grunts, allowing you to sit down again once more. “Law. Trafalgar D. Law.”
“Y/n L/n.”
“Nice to meet’cha Y/N!”
“You’re a straw-hat aren’t you? Hmh. What a tease your Captain isnt first here.”
You chuckle a bit scared at the power law might consist..
Zoro searches nearly the whole place for you, and finally lands at the auction house, he busts in and frantically looks around. He sees you sitting with a man, he cant see his face but he sure can see yours. And your enjoying yourself, this sets something off in him.
Him being your ex-best-friend and all, Hes only used to seeing him make you laugh, but this. This is so different and weird, why does he care?
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delphi-shield · 30 days
Text
SAY IT BACK ↪ letting them leave without an ily
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finishing up some smaller things from my wip folder before i buckle down and work on the big stuff again. here's this doofy little fluff piece.
characters included: chris redfield, leon kennedy, jill valentine, ada wong
content: fluff. just fluff. established relationship. mildly ooc behavior for the sake of fluff (also known as being in a relationship and acting stupid)
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You found it on TikTok - or maybe it was Instagram, or Facebook - doesn't matter. One of the media conglomerates had given you a horrible idea about how to tease your loving, devoted partner.
It's simple - when they said 'I love you' before they left for work, you just wouldn't say it back. What could go wrong?
Chris Redfield ↪
Did not notice. Secure. In his lane. Unbothered. Probably not moisturized. (Get him a nice oil, fragrance free. He'll like it more if you massage it into his muscles for him, spend a little extra time smoothing along the curve of his spine, up and over the tightness of his shoulders.)
If you're at the point with Chris where he's saying “I love you” in place of a goodbye, he doesn't need to hear you say it back. He's confident in your relationship. Hearing it is just a nice bonus.
You're going to get your own feelings hurt here. Sent yourself into a spiral. Like, damn, does he not listen? Does he not care? What the fuck is his deal?
Chris is legitimately confused when you bring it up to him later. Doesn't get the point of the whole thing. “Why wouldn't you just say you love me?” Head cocked to the side, so puppy-like you can practically see the velvety ears flopping over.
Really doesn't do the whole social media thing. Even when you show him videos as an example, he's just shrugging. "I'm pretty sure those are skits, honey. No one really reacts like that."
If only he knew. Hey - at least now you know that Chris is perfectly content in your relationship and won't let anything silly like this bother him. It's just a sign to ramp up the pranks - more practical jokes, less subtle, harmless emotional manipulation.
That's what you thought, at least, but when Chris flips the light off that night and sidles up behind you in bed, strong arms slipping around your middle and tugging you back to him, his voice rumbles in your ear - "You gonna tell me you love me, or is this gonna be a problem?"
And Chris is really good at extracting confessions. How badly do you actually want to get some sleep tonight?
Jill Valentine ↪
Doesn't seem to have noticed that you ignored her. Walked right out the door without missing a step, didn't even glance back. Her car pulls out of the garage, her sunglasses on - she seems entirely unbothered.
Oh, she’s bothered.
Jill Valentine is Not Petty™️. And she does not pout when her partner doesn't say ‘I love you’ back. She's in a pissy mood at work for a completely unrelated reason. She's not returning your texts because she's busy at work, not because she's trying (and failing) to give you a taste of your own medicine.
She definitely doesn't carry that storm cloud all the way home with her, doesn't rain on your parade when you cheerfully announce that dinner's ready and on the table.
You're trying everything you can think of to cheer her up. Asking about work got you a noncommittal shrug. You'd offered to draw a bath for her - or (preferably) for the both of you, but she'd dismissed the idea, talking about how it would take up too much time.
She didn't have the heart to shrug you off when you started massaging her shoulders. Despite your silence in the morning, you were clearly intent on taking care of her. Maybe nothing was wrong. Maybe you just hadn't heard her.
Her palm presses against your cheek, turns you to face her. She searches your eyes for a moment, her gaze unreadable. "Thanks for dinner. I love you."
Nothing. Fucking nothing. "You're welcome."
Jill knows that look on your face, that shit-eating grin that you're trying to cover up by glancing down, by pretending to be flustered. Her hands grip your hips. She manhandles you into her lap, chair scraping against the floor to make room for the both of you.
"Okay - spill. What's up with you?"
Once you explain, she's not mad about the whole thing, not really. But you can't help but notice that she's been withholding kisses lately, and-- wait.
Fuck. Now she's turned the tables on you.
Leon Kennedy ↪
Keeps finding new and inventive ways to double back inside the house. He's not going to outright ask you what's up - that would make him look desperate, which he’s totally not. He’s definitely not concerned at all that you didn’t complete your morning ritual and send him out the door with an ‘I love you’. He’s a big boy - this isn’t high school, this is his very mature, very adult relationship.
Excuse number one: “Sorry, forgot my keys,” as he makes a show of dropping his keys out of his pocket, onto the living room floor. His eyes are on you when he reaches to grab them. Leon tosses them in his hand, making as much noise as he possibly can. “All right, love you.”
You hold strong. Still no ‘love you’ back. He’s gone for all of 60 seconds when he comes back with excuse number two: “Ah, damn, forgot my badge. I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached.”
His badge is attached to his belt. You can literally see it. When you point that out to him, he makes a show of being relieved, goes so far as to press a kiss to your temple, and says, “God, what would I do without you? Love ya. Have a good day.”
But you hold strong. Until excuse number three:
“Babe, have you seen my gun?”
You laugh, which only makes him laugh - and then he hits you with ‘no, seriously’ while he leans against the doorway, hip cocked. He’s got you figured out by now, knows that if he can make you laugh then you’re not doing this because you’re mad at him or anything. He can't even be mad when you explain it to him. He can only warn you:
"I'm gonna get you for this. Now, c'mon - say it."
Ada Wong ↪
I don't know why you would do this to her to be honest. She just said ‘I love you’. You should be marking your calendar and turning this into a holiday.
She doesn't say it often, at least not while you're conscious. Whether she presses her sentiments into your hair while you sleep against her, drooling against her collar bone, is up for debate. You have no hard evidence and she'll deny the allegations.
It simultaneously is and is not a big deal. She didn't say it because she craved the validation of having you repeat it to her. She said it because she meant it. There's so few concrete truths about herself that she can share with you, but that was one of them. Does it sting a little not to have it returned? Maybe.
She turns the moment over and over in her head, letting it haunt her. You had given her time, she thinks, why can't she give you yours? But your silence is a specter that tinges every moment. It creeps at the edges of every thought, it–
“Hey, you forgot your coffee.”
She turns to see you in the door of your apartment, hanging from the frame with one hand, her cup extended to her in the other. She clicks back to you in her stilettos, and your press a kiss to her cheek when she claims her drink. The guilt of it all ate at you before you could let her leave your sight. “Love you. Be safe.”
She'd spiraled before she even got down to the parking lot. Total loser in love.
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fallingdownhell · 1 year
Note
Genshin men when you bring them home to meet the parents and they find out that your sister is the favored child of the family and she now has her eyes set on them.
Uhhh, I really like that idea.. It has so much angst potential... but am I gonna do it...?
Characters Included: Heizou; Thoma; Alhaitham
Content: gender neutral reader; reader has a sister; slight cursing; some jealousy themes; nothing else besides that
Word count: 2k words
Have fun reading!<3
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Heizou
He is so fucking nervous!
He is good at hiding it, but you know him by now, you know how he gets and how he acts when he doesn't want others to know his true feelings, so you know and are aware of it
Heizou knows about your strained relationship with your family. Your parents having favoured your sister over you, no matter the circumstances
you did have contact with your family, but it was on a very low, unregular basis. Not that he minded that, though. It was your life, your decision. He's sure you wouldn't do that without having a good reason for it.
You had agreed on a nice, easy dinner at your parents house where they would get the chance to meet your boyfriend for the first time
upon arriving at the house where you spent your childhood, Heizou got more and more nervous. Somewhere along the way, he grabbed one of your hands, holding it tightly in his own.
you tried reassuring him, giving him a small smile as you held his hand, and it did help him a bit
soon, your mother answered the front door, followed by your father and introductions were made
Heizou held your hand throughout the entire thing, not daring to let go of you, but he seemed to relax more and more as the seconds went by
your parents noticed this as well, looking briefly at your joined hands, but chose not to say anything about it
you sat down on the table and a few minutes later, your sister arrived
she was acting entirely over the top with you, throwing herself at you and acting far too friendly. It made you somewhat uncomfortable, but you didn't say anything, not wanting to ruin the good mood that everyone has
for the first few minutes of dinner, everything seemed fine. Conversations were held, your parents asked Heizou some questions, nothing too bad
but then, your mom made some comment about you again, and it all went downhill from there for you
"You know, you're exactly the type of man we always wanted for our daughter. Are you sure you want to settle with (name)?"
then, your mother proceeded on to tell him every little thing about your sister. How she was working a much better job than you with better hours and more pay. How she was more beautiful than you. How she was just in general the better choice between the two of you
Heizou was dumbfounded by this behaviour and he now understood entirely why you had almost no contact with your family. This has been your entire life? Archons, he wanted to rip them a new one, for your own sake..
your mother was still rambling on, your sister just sitting there, smiling at Heizou, thinking that he was considering his options
everyone, including you, was surprised when he suddenly slammed his hands on the table, making all eyes fall on him
"With all due respect, Ma'am. I would rather die than do something so horrible to (Name). They are a wonderful partner, the best I could ever wish for. So, pardon us, but we are going to take our leave now."
with that, he grabbed your hand and you both walked out of the house, ignoring the calls of your family for you to come back and that they didn't mean it like that
secretly though, you were so glad and relieved. When your mother started saying stuff like that again, you just mentally accepted that this was it, yet again.
But Heizou surprised you and stood up for you against your own family. It made you feel so incredibly loved and cared for
that night, he hugged you closer to him than ever before, now reassuring you that you were his number one, that he loved you only and would do everything in this world, just to see you smile again...
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Thoma
He's such a sweet partner, always caring about you and making sure that you're comfortable with him
Thoma likes to be a provider in a relationship. In the sense that he likes to cook for you, help you clean up, doing little things for you around the house. It's his way of saying "I love you"
Thoma will never push you into doing anything you don't want to, or making you open up to him
he's more than happy to take things slowly, earning your trust
and when you finally open up to him about whatever things you want to talk about, he's there for you, listening to everything you have to say without interrupting you
he also knows about the strained relationship with your family. He might not know all the details, but he knows enough to trust you in your decisions regarding the matter
he would never comment on it or make you do anything since it's not his place to judge or intrude on
with that being said, it just so happened that one day, while out shopping for ingredients, he ran into a certain someone
well, more like, a certain someone that ran into him. She profusely apologized for running into him and somehow got him tangled up into conversation
Thoma, being the nice person that he is, tried finding a way out of the conversation without coming across as rude. But, honestly, he just wanted to get home to you as soon as possible
Somehow, the conversation shifted and the topic of partners came up. Thoma said that he was happily taken right now, but she just kept pressing with her questions until your name slipped out his mouth
Thoma could clearly see how her eyes lit up at the mention of your name and he had a feeling that she would just bombard him with thousands more questions
so, he quickly made up an excuse and got out of there, walking home at a fast pace
once he arrived, he told you about the encounter he just had, which made you think. It all sounded strangely familiar to you, even his description of the person rang a bell somewhere in your mind
however, you didn't have much more time to dwell on those thoughts as a knock could be heard from the front door
exchainging glances, you went to answer the door, only to find your sister standing in front of you
eyes wide, you wondered how she found you here, but that question was quickly answered
"Oh, so you ARE his lover! God, now I'm so glad I followed him all the way back here!"
She threw herself in your arms, then quickly abandoned you and went inside your home. You were still so shocked and didn't realize this but when you came back to your senses, you quickly went inside again to the kitchen were you heard her voice from
Thoma was looking at you confused as well, but she just continued talking to him like nothing had happened and they were still out in the city where she ran into him
"...I mean, I'm so glad it was you! You're so handsome, and strong apparently for carrying all those bags back here! Say, why are you with (Name) anyway? Like, they have no redeeming qualities. You should look for more suitable partners, like me! I could give you so much more!"
She smiled at him like her little speech would be all it takes for Thoma to change his mind. The sad part was, you were expecting it to work as well, having dealt with exactly that your entire life, she always got what she wanted
"...Out.", Thoma said. It was the only thing he said, but his tone was so unusal from his normal self. It was cold and demanding, making your sister shiver in her place.
She quickly grabbed her stuff and left your home again, not saying another word
You looked after her for a second, but then in the next you felt two strong arms wrap around you from behind, his face burrying itself in the crock of your neck
for a long time, he remained silent, before he spoke again. "Sorry. I'm so sorry you had to deal with that for so long."
you were perplexed at his words, but quickly hugged him back, silently thanking him for staying by your side
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Alhaitham
To most people, Alhaitham comes off as a cold and calculated person without any emotions
most people will be surprised when they find out that he was indeed in a committed relationship
and they were even more surprised when they find out how sweet, loving and expressive you are
most would think that he would want a partner similar to him, closed off and not all that social. But you are the exact opposite to that
Not that Alhaitham was paying any mind to the opinions of others about him and his love life in the first place
To you, Alhaitham was the most ideal partner you could have hoped for
he was caring, attentive towards you, listened to you even if he didn't give that impression
his attention was always on you, you were in his thoughts when not with him. Just completely head over heels for you
However, he would not know about the strained relationship with your parents. He knew you weren't in much contact with them, and that's all he really needed or wanted to know. He never bothered you about it
But then, one day, you asked him if he wanted to meet your parents. You seemed unsure about the proposal, but in the end, he agreed to it nevertheless
the days before the event, you became a nervous mess. Alhaitham had no idea what was going on, but he tried to be there for you and support you
he did ask if you wanted to talk to him about anything, but you declined and he didn't push you anymore after that
then, the evening finally arrived where you were meeting up with your family at a local restaurant
when you arrived, your partents and sister were already there, waiting on the two of you. your mother spotted you first, waving to grab your attention
you then went over to sit with them
Introductions were a bit awkward at first, but after a few minutes, things seemed to settle down a bit as your parents engaged in conversation with you, trying to catch up on things
However, it quickly became clear to Alhaitham that your sister was always trying to upstage you with absolutely anything. You got a good job? Well, she got an even better one. You got paid so and so much? Well, wouldn't you look at that, her numbers were even higher than yours
at first, you tried to ignore it, but as always, your parents quickly began ignoring you again, instead congratulating your sister on how good she was doing for herself. It dampened your mood quite a bit, but you still wanted to give this a chance
that was, until your sister said something very specific. "Yeah. The only thing missing to top it all of would be an amazing boyfriend now. Say, Alhaitham. Why don't you dump my sibling and get with me instead?" She even winked at him after saying this
Immediately, your parents agreed to her proposal, looking expectantly at Alhaitham
said man only took a quick glance at everyone at the table, before throwing some money on the table, grabbing your hand and standing up, heading for the exit
"I listened to you disrespecting my partner for long enough. And you wonder why they hold no contact with you anymore. Really, I'm glad they got out of your grasp."
With that, you both left the restaurant. None of you spoke a word until you got to Alhaitham's house again, where he immediately pulled you into his arms as soon as you were inside
so for a while, you just stood there in his embrace while he silently reassured you that you had nothing to worry about
you were the only one to him and he would spend his entire life proving this to you if necessary..
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UR...SMUT...IS...AMAZING... COULD YOU DO headcans of 141 and Kõnig and their fave sex positions? Thanks!
Hehe, thank you! I'm not super confident with it, but I appreciate all the support and compliments!🩷🩵
Added a little extra to this one!!! Did a general hc!
141 + König Favorite Sex Positions/ How They Enjoy Sex
Warnings: sexual references, swearing
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Simon Ghost Riley-
MISSIONARY!!!!!!!
Simon's not a particularly rough lover, especially given his traumatic past, so to him, there's nothing better than being on top of you and taking this slow
That's not to say this man doesn't go HAM on you sometimes. If he gets horny enough, or stressed enough, this man will POUND you into the mattress
Huge fan of eye contact during missionary, too
He doesn't get too experimental, but he'll try just about anything if you ask
He's a giver 100% and loves to go down on you
He'll very rarely ask you to go down on him, but won't ever say no if you offer
He's primarily the dominant partner in bed but will let you take control every so often
Takes sex seriously, and before you, I honestly don't think he was one to just sleep around
NOT a fan of quickies. Liles to draw the pleasure out for both of you for as long as he can
Gets HORRIBLY embarrassed if he cums too quick if it's been awhile since you two had sex, and will make it up to you 10 times over
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König-
YOU ON TOP!!!!!!!
König is very conscious about his size and has fears he may crush you in bed, so he prefers if you're on top
If you get too tired, or don't want to be on top, he'll pull you to the edge of the bed while you're on your back, so he can fuck you while he's standing
Took you two while to have sex for the first time, I stan this man was a virgin before you, and he was very nervous
If he's feeling particularly kinky, he'll carry you so your legs wrap around his waist, while he fucks up into you (preferably in the shower)
Man has a raging size kink
LOVES giving and receiving oral. Let's just say he's very skilled with his mouth
You are the dom in bed. Again Königs always worried he'll crush you, so you have to take the lead
Constantly reassures you that you're doing well, that you're beautiful, and that he loves you
Makes you feel so good about yourself, both in physical and emotion ways
Man will NOT let himself cum until you do first. And if he happens to cum before you, he'll apologize profusely
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Johnny Soap MacTavish-
Literally any position, just please fuck this man
If he HAD to choose, mating press is probably his favorite
LOVES the way you feel, squeezing around his cock while he's pushing your legs against your head
Is totally up for trying new positions. In fact, he probably looks some up in his free time that he wants to try
Also, it isn't opposed to toys. He prefers to get you off on his own, but he won't protest if you want to add in something extra
If he ever goes down on you, it's with you sitting on his face. He loves being suffocated by you
One of his kinks is role-playing, and if it's something you're into as well? Oh boy
Be prepared to laugh during sex with him. He doesn't take it too seriously and just wants to have fun with it
When he does take sex seriously, it's usually a very loving affair. He'll be overly gentle as he whispers sweet words in your ears
Overall, he's a very fun partner to have in bed. Sex is never, ever dull with him
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John Price-
Doggy. Doggy. Doggy. Doggy.
Drives him fucking wild
Also thoroughly enjoys shower sex
He's such an ass man, so it's the best angle for him to get the perfect view of your ass while simultaneously pounding into you
If you have longer hair, this man will definitely be using his hand as a makeshift ponytail to yank on while he fucks you
Isn't opposed to you being on top, and he won't last long if you do reverse cowgirl. Again, this man is an ASS man
Raging Daddy Kink (obviously)
Honestly? He's a mean dom, but will never go far enough to where it truly hurts you
Handcuffs, blindfolds, whips- this man is here for all of it
This man will RARELY let you take the lead. He's a man of control and likes to show that in the bedroom outside?
100% will make you beg him to let you cum
Loves, loves to spank you. Drives him feral when he sees his hand prints on your ass cheeks
Will most definitely take it slow if you ask, man has a wicked romantic side
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Kyle Gaz Garrick-
Truly believe this man "makes love", and doesn't "fuck", at least not habitually
He LOVES having sex with you when you're both in bed, laying on your sides
Enjoys leaving love bites all over your neck and chest. Likes to know you're marked as his
He's fairly "vanilla" in bed, he just doesn't understand the appeal of all the toys and "extra stuff"
But he NEVER leaves you feeling unsatisfied
He will work for hours to get you to cum if that's what it takes
100% a soft dom. Doesn't like making you do any work unless you absolutely want to
He's not necessarily opposed to trying new stuff out, he just gets nervous
Firm believer that your first time with him, was on a bed covered in rose petals, he wanted your first time with him to be special
Like the others though, if you ask this man to fuck you senseless, he would, but not often
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Am I writing too much smut? Feel like I should be throwing some fluff in here🤣🫡
Also, I wanted to note again that I'm doing my very best to keep all of these GN, unless gender is specifically stated in ask! If I slip up anywhere, please don't hesitate to tell me!!🙂🩷
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silver-tangent · 10 months
Text
You know… the bait and switch of Scott Pilgrim takes off was needed.
Scott Pilgrim was meant to be a subversion of tropes, and it got picked up by a bunch of nice guys, myself included at one point, who turned it into their anthem.
The original comic was about Everyman Scott Pilgrim having to win a woman by fighting her evil exes, and on the surface that’s what it was. Between the fanbase and the movie, that’s as shallow as anyone goes…
Except that Scott didn’t win her by defeating her evil exes. Scott was troubled and problematic. In the end he wasn’t abusive but he was neglectful and took Ramona for granted to the point that her abusive and manipulative ex managed to convince her to go back to him… mostly out of fear of what would happen to dumb, hapless, Scott.
Scott was an exceptional fighter in his videogame world… he beat like… one of the seven. The rest of the time he was saved by complete dumb luck, by his friends, and by Ramona.
The entire point was slowly realizing how silly the situation was, and how he wasn’t a white knight… he was set up to be a white knight only to knock that idea down and have Ramona and friends help him.
They learned, they grew, they were both toxic and broken people for different reasons, Scott through ignorance and a lack of experience and Ramona through trauma and abusive relationships…
And in the comic… they don’t exactly break up but she ghosts him. Horribly… and he ends up fighting Gideon anyway, and rescuing her… by gaining the Power of Understanding. That’s right, not self-respect. Understanding…
And the last page they decide to try again, but we don’t know what that means… everyone moves on to a better place in their lives, a lot of them move on from Scott and Ramona romantically… and Scott and Ramona get to just… see where this goes…
and that’s a sweet note to end on. Two people who didn’t know how to be healthy partners growing up, and timidly trying it all over, with no confirmation of how it works.
Movie? Movie came out before book 6, audiences didn’t like the ending where Scott chases after Ramona (differently from the books like he literally chases after her) so Scott earns the power of self respect, and gets back with Knives…
And intended or not, it just sets up this idea that Ramona was the bad guy. Ramona, the abuse victim, was friend-zoning Scott; the nice guy…
And for a decade, the fandom has kinda devolved into that mentality; Scott Pilgrim is the savior of the nice guys. Ramona is the unobtainable girl. Knives is the victim…
O’Malley’s original point, that relationships are hard and trauma is hard, and nobody can do it alone… lost.
To the point that we are so deep in this nice guy culture that making a sequel disguised as a reboot (will not spoil more) was necessary. He had to make the point more obvious, that the story was always about Ramona working through her relationship trauma… Scott was the house husband. He was always meant to be.
Everyone I see complaining about the twist… does not get the point of the comics… and I’ve been bitching about the movie for more than a decade so I’m sorry… it’s not a *bad* movie… but it’s clear most of the fanbase only watched the movie. And it’s clear most of the people complaining are Gideon in denial… no… Future Scott in denial… which is in fact the point.
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