#but then he goes 'oh. never mind.' and shuffles off. but like HUH

[girltakovic]

what is it about target that attracts the men with the fewest active neurons this side of the mississippi

[st3f13ily]

Dating The Impossible

• Reverse Romance Trope

• Instead of Fake dating, everyone is convinced you aren't dating.

• Itoshi Sae x Influencer Chaotic Reader

• Sorry, I don't really know how this will goes, probably gonna be confusing and all, I just put whatever is on my mind.

"You know how some people say their life is a rom-com? Yeah, no. Mine is more like a chaos-com. I wake up tangled in bedsheets like a burrito, burn half my breakfasts, and trip over absolutely nothing at least once a day. But hey, at least I make it look cute. Or so my fans say."

"You've probably seen me online."

"The loud, over-the-top influencer with an obsession for bubble tea, oversized hoodies, and singing off-key on live streams. Yeah, that's me. Sunshine's personality is a human disaster, and I'm proud of it. My life is like an endless string of events, collaborations, photoshoots, and the occasional scandal where people assume I'm dating half the industry just because I smiled too wide in a selfie."

"But... plot twist. The rumors were all wrong. The truth? I've been dating Sae Itoshi."

"Yes. That Sae Itoshi."

"The national heartthrob, soccer prodigy, king of the resting deadpan face. The man who kicks balls for a living and somehow looks like he invented the concept of "too cool to care." That's my boyfriend."

"Shocking, right? I know, I know. You're probably making the same face my best friend did when I told her."

"Mouth open, brain error, blue screen."

"But!—ah, ah, ah—before I spill the tea on how that happened... let's rewind."

"It wasn't on a fancy red carpet or an exclusive afterparty."

"Nope. The universe had something more... clumsy planned."

"It was just another Tuesday. I was running late, of course, because of punctuality and I have never been on speaking terms. Sunglasses perched on my head, iced coffee in one hand, and phone in the other, trying to post a "good morning" selfie to my feed without walking into traffic. Multitasking: my toxic trait."

"And then, boom."

"Literally. I slammed right into someone."

"My coffee went flying, my phone almost joined it, and I stumbled back like a cartoon character. I looked up, ready to apologize to whoever the poor soul was and there he stood."

"Tall. Cool. Expression flat enough to rival the moon’s surface."

"A guy in casual clothes, baseball cap pulled low, hands stuffed in his pockets like he’d rather be anywhere else."

"And me? The clueless fool who thought. Huh. Cute stranger."

"I had no idea I'd just bumped into Itoshi Sae himself. And him? Oh, he definitely thought I was just another random, overly smiley girl with zero spatial awareness."

"Funny, right?"

"But, I'm getting ahead of myself again. You want the real story, don't you? The how, the why, the wait, really? moments."

"Well... hold tight. Because that, my lovely little chaos crew, is a story for another day."

"And speaking of stories, my livestream timer's blinking at me. Time to hit the "Go Live" button and let the circus begin."

"Story starts now: me, my camera, my fans, and one accidental love story I never saw coming."

.....

.....

.....

.....

Beep.

Beep.

BEEEEEP.

You swatted your alarm clock like it had personally insulted your family name, groaning into your pillow. Five more minutes. Just five more, universe, please. But the sun was already slapping you across the face through your curtains like it had a personal vendetta.

Reluctantly, you peeled yourself from your cozy blanket cocoon and rolled out of bed emphasis on rolled because grace was never part of your brand. You did a little zombie shuffle toward the bathroom, catching sight of your bedhead in the mirror.

"Wow. A masterpiece." you mumbled to yourself, finger-combing your tangled mess like it would magically fix anything. Spoiler: it didn't.

Your morning routine was a wild mix of chaos and caffeine. Face wash? Check. Skincare? Check—uhhhhhh—mostly. Coffee? Priority number one. You fired up your machine and did a little dance while waiting, humming off-key to whatever pop song was stuck in your head. You were halfway through pouring your coffee when your phone buzzed.

[Your BFF]: 𝗔𝗿��� 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗲??

You grinned, sending back: 𝗕𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗹𝘆. 𝗖𝗼𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁, 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗱.

You flopped onto the couch with your mug and pulled out your phone, opening your livestream app. Your followers were already leaving comments on your last post:

"You're late today, queen!"

"She lives!! What's the chaos plan for today?"

You snorted into your coffee, holding up your phone for a quick selfie.

"Good morning, chaos crew!" you chirped to your camera. "Guess who overslept again? Spoiler: it's me. But plot twist, today I have a story. And it's about a certain someone."

You paused, flashing your most dramatic grin.

"But before that, let's talk about the day I met him. Because wow. Absolute definition of 'meet-cute,' minus the cute, mostly just me being a hazard to society."

You leaned back, letting the memory replay in your head.

It was an ordinary day. Well, as ordinary as your life ever got. You had a brand meeting to rush to, and as usual, you were running late because you couldn't pick an outfit. One minute you were posing for mirror selfies in your oversized hoodie, the next you were panicking because your Uber was two streets away and you couldn't find your left shoe. Classic you.

With only two brain cells firing on pure iced coffee and hope, you dashed out of your apartment, phone in one hand, drink in the other, and zero focus on the sidewalk ahead. You were too busy typing a caption for your next post, something about the universe always testing your time management skills, when the world decided to humble you.

Crash.

You slammed chest-first into someone.

Your iced coffee did an Olympic-level flip, your phone wobbled dangerously in your hand, and you stumbled back two steps, blinking like a deer in ring light.

"Whoa—sorry, I wasn't looking!" you blurted out, brushing imaginary dust off your clothes and finally daring to look up.

And there he was.

The stranger.

Tall, and lean, hoodie, cap pulled low, and hands in his pockets like life was just a long waiting room. His expression? A mix of boredom and 'Why is this human in my personal space?'

At the time, you didn't recognize him. To you, he was just another person having the misfortune of existing on the same chaotic sidewalk as you.

But him? Oh, he definitely looked at you like you were just another hyper, overcaffeinated civilian with no spatial awareness. Probably filed you away as background noise and kept walking.

You, being the ray of unbothered sunshine you were, had just smiled wide and waved, as if you hadn't nearly caused a traffic accident with your face.

"Have a good day, mystery man!" you chirped before bouncing off, completely unaware that you'd just met Sae Itoshi.

The Sae Itoshi.

The soccer prodigy. The media darling. The human iceberg.

And soon-to-be... your boyfriend.

You grinned at the memory, shaking your head as your chat flooded with emojis and question marks

"But—ah, ah, ah—that's just the beginning," you teased, sipping your coffee dramatically. "You thought I’d spill all the tea in one sitting? Pfft. Stay tuned, chaos crew. You know I live for the plot twists."

You winked at your camera, stretching your arms with a happy little hum.

"So, where were we? Right—me, being a disaster, and the world's most unexpected love story. But that's for the next stream."

And with that, you ended the live, leaving your fans screaming in the chat for more.

You sort of love it when your fans suffer.

༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻

You were lounging on your bed, blanket wrapped around your legs like a burrito, phone propped up against a water bottle, livestream running full blast. The chat was already exploding with:

"You left us hanging last time!!"

"Tell us about the first REAL conversation!!"

"DID YOU FALL OR DID YOU FLY?? Spill!!"

You laughed, cheeks hurting from smiling.

"Okay, okay, okay, calm down, gremlins." You raised your hands like you were surrendering to the internet police. "So last time, I told you about the day I bumped into him. Literally. But you thought the universe would let me off with one accidental meeting? Oh, honey. No, no."

You shifted to lie on your stomach, kicking your feet behind you.

"It kept happening. Like, a lot. I thought I was the main character in a bad rom-com."

You tilted your head back, replaying the memories like your own private highlight reel.

The second time was the most random. You'd been at that cute little coffee shop you loved, the one that did those overly fancy heart-shaped lattes you always pretended to hate but secretly adored. You were waiting for your order, nose buried in your phone, when someone brushed past you.

You looked up, and there he was again. Mystery Man. Hoodie, cap, same blank expression. For a second, you thought your brain had glitched. Wasn't this the guy you’d run into like, a week ago?

He didn't recognize you, or at least, if he did, he was very committed to pretending he didn't. You'd watched him leave with his black coffee like some kind of aesthetic Pinterest post, and you'd stood there clutching your caramel frappé like, Huh. Weird.

But it didn't stop there.

A few days later, different place, the same weird coincidence. You'd been out at the park, earbuds in, walking your snack-fueled guilt off when you spotted him again, sitting on a bench, casually scrolling his phone as if he belonged in the background.

At first, you thought, Okay, world, nice try. People exist. Whatever. But by the fourth time, when you ran into him at that tiny sushi place you swore no one else but you and your bestie knew about. You couldn't take it anymore.

You'd straight-up stared at him across the room, your mouth half full of rice, eyebrows raised so high they nearly left your forehead.

And the moment your eyes met? He raised his brow right back.

So you did what any reasonable, mature adult would do.

You marched right up to his table, planted your hands on your hips, tilted your head, and blurted out:

"Are you stalking me or do I just have main character syndrome?"

Silence. Dead silence. The poor waiter passing by almost choked on air.

And for the first time, the guy cracked the tiniest, barely-there smile like you'd just told a joke only he got. He tilted his head, lazily resting his chin on his hand and replied, "Funny. I was about to ask you the same thing."

You had stared at him, blinked, and then dramatically pointed a finger at him like some bootleg detective.

"Hah! Suspicious!"

Your chat was going insane by now, spamming.

"SHE LITERALLY SAID ‘STALKER’ LMAO"

"HE SMILED?!? That's a world record!"

"He was so calm too, I'm wheezing."

You grinned at your phone.

"Yeah, I know right? The man was so calm like his entire personality was set to 'unbothered.' Meanwhile, I'm the one flailing through life like a caffeinated pigeon."

You sipped your drink, shaking your head at the memory.

"At that point, I didn't even know who he was, not really. Just thought he was some suspiciously attractive stranger who clearly had a talent for showing up wherever I existed. Turns out... well, you guys know the plot twist already."

You let out a dreamy little sigh, flopping onto your back.

"But that was just the start. You think that's the cute part? Oh, no, no, no, chaos crew. The universe was just warming up."

You flashed a wink at the camera.

"Next stream, I'll tell you the part where I found out the truth. About who he really was."

You raised your glass like a toast.

"And spoiler alert: my jaw hit the floor. See you next time!"

You ended the live, still smiling like an idiot, heart full of those silly, sweet memories.

༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻

You tug your hoodie over your head, slumping deeper into the cold, unforgiving airport chair while the distant hum of suitcase wheels and boarding calls blend into background noise. One earbud dangles loose, the other blasting your "waiting-around" playlist at a volume slightly unhealthy for your eardrums.

Your phone rests against your knee, the livestream chat already buzzing like a hive of nosy bees.

"WHERE are you going?? Stop gatekeeping."

"Tell us, tell us! Your airport fit is 10/10 tho."

"Are you going somewhere or is this Kidnapping??!! Blink twice if you need help!!"

"WHERE ARE YOU GOING??"

"Airport fit check pls??"

You chuckle under your breath, stretching your legs out until your sneakers nudge your suitcase.

"Yeah, yeah. I know you're all dying to know, but I'm not telling you yet. Let's just say... it's gonna be a long few hours, and the flight's not boarding anytime soon."

You leaned back, stretching your legs out, sneakers tapping against the floor.

"So I figured, since we're all here, stuck together in digital purgatory, why not tell you the rest of the story? The full, uncut, slightly embarrassing tale of how I ended up with Sae Itoshi."

The chat exploded again, and you snorted, holding up a hand.

"Calm down, calm down! You already know about the 'Are you stalking me?' moment." You grinned at the memory. "But that wasn't the last time we crossed paths. Oh no, the universe was playing the long game."

You licked your lips, settling in like you were about to spill ancient gossip.

"Turns out, I was working on this brand deal, you know, usual influencer stuff, smile, wave, pretend I don’t trip over my own feet in front of professional cameras. My manager told me there was this promotional event, super casual, nothing fancy. Show up, look cute, shake hands, snap photos. Easy."

"What she forgot to mention was that it wasn't just some small event. No, no, it was one of those 'shared space' promo collabs. You know, influencers meet athletes, actors, streamers, the whole 'everyone's famous except you' type vibe. I was barely surviving the social anxiety."

You gestured at your own face, chuckling.

"And then, guess who walks in. The same guy I called a stalker—Sae. Freaking. Itoshi."

You paused for dramatic silence, watching the chat spam screaming emojis and caps-lock confessions of second-hand embarrassment.

"And the worst part? I still didn't know his full name. Not until the event started, and the host announced it like it was some royal entrance. 'Football star Itoshi Sae, everyone!' And I just—I swear my soul left my body."

You covered your face, laughing into your hands.

"I was standing there holding a plate of free desserts and staring at him like I'd seen a ghost. He? Oh, he was perfectly fine. Cool, calm, like this was just Tuesday for him."

You shift in your seat, tugging your hood lower, and let the memory pull you under.

༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻

The sky had been that weird, in-between colour, not quite sunny, not quite cloudy, just hanging there like it couldn’t commit to a mood. You were half-jogging, half-power-walking toward your favourite café, craving something sugary and caffeinated to survive your schedule.

Just five minutes of peace, you'd thought, before the next shoot, the next meeting, the next 'smile for the camera.'

The second you pushed the café door open, the little bell above the frame jingled and there he was. The same guy. Cool expression, soccer-star hair, the casual posture of someone who was definitely not expecting you either.

You froze mid-step, recognizing that sharp jawline and those ocean-glass eyes.

No way. No freaking way.

And he glanced up from his drink, raising one eyebrow like he'd just spotted a UFO. No fanboy moment, no awkwardness, just that signature, unimpressed Sae Itoshi stare.

You blinked, too stunned to even remember your coffee craving. "You again?" you blurted, before your brain could filter the words.

He sipped his drink like you weren't real. "Should I be asking you that?"

The universe clearly had jokes, because this wasn't the last time either. After that café, you saw him at a restaurant, same casual lean against the counter, the same unreadable face. Then at the park. Then at a bookstore. Every time you locked eyes, it was the same little pause, like both of you were waiting for the punchline.

The fourth or fifth accidental meetup, you'd finally folded your arms, tilting your head at him, amusement bubbling out before you could stop yourself.

"Alright, are YOU stalking me?" you'd asked, deadpan but half-laughing.

For the first time, his lips twitched into something dangerously close to a smirk.

"No." he'd replied, gaze flicking to you and back. "If I were, you'd never catch me."

And you had stood there, flustered, annoyingly charmed, and wondering if he'd always been this infuriatingly smooth.

But the real twist came later, your manager dropped the bomb about the upcoming event.

"A crossover gig." she'd said, breezy like it wasn't life-ruining. "You're going to meet some athletes and shoot some promo stuff. Super chill."

You'd thought nothing of it, until you showed up at the venue, makeup barely set, nerves barely managed, and there he was. Again.

This time, his name wasn't a mystery. The host's voice boomed through the speakers like an announcement in some royal court.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome Itoshi Sae!"

And you? Standing there like an absolute clown, holding some candies you snuck into your bag without your manager looking. Staring at the man you'd mistaken for a random guy for weeks.

I am going to dig a hole right here and move in.

The worst part wasn't even the reveal, it was how unbothered he looked. Smooth, sharp, camera-ready. Until the event wrapped, the photos were done, and he passed you in the hallway, hands in his pockets.

"Still think I’m stalking you?" he murmured, voice low enough that only you could hear.

Your heart had done a perfect backflip right into your stomach.

I'm doomed, you'd thought, completely doomed.

༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻

The airport speakers crackle, calling out some other flight and the chat floods your screen like you'd just dropped the juiciest scandal.

"OMG stop, the candy part got me dead."

"YOU MET HIM SO MANY TIMES AND DIDN'T KNOW??? Girl."

"How are you not married to him already, I'm crying."

You snort, flipping your phone so the camera only catches your eyes, full of fake dramatic regret.

"Yup, that's the story. The universe was practically waving a red flag in my face, and I still didn't get it. But hey, I never said I was smart."

You grin, voice going soft.

"That was the beginning of the mess, though. Things only got weirder, funnier, and... well, better from there."

You glance at the flight board, the 'Delayed' sign still glowing. Plenty of time to keep the story going.

"Should I tell you what happened after that event?" You tilt your head, teasing. "You might wanna grab snacks for this one."

You rested your chin on your palm, the corners of your lips twitching upward at the memory.

"But noooope. Plot twist, we kept running into each other even after that. Like, the universe wasn't done embarrassing me."

༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻

It started with the afterparty.

You weren't even supposed to stay long. Your manager had warned you: "Just smile, mingle, and leave before anyone asks awkward questions." But you'd stayed for the free food. Because of priorities.

You were swiping the last mini cupcake from a passing tray when you noticed him, standing alone by the balcony doors, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. Same suit, same cool stare, but there was something... so normal about him when he wasn't surrounded by flashing cameras and interviews.

You hadn't meant to walk over. Honestly. Your feet just moved.

"Hey, stalker." you'd greeted, cupcake half-raised to your mouth.

He glanced your way, eyebrows lifting slightly.

"You've got the roles reversed." he murmured, sipping his drink, "I was here first."

You'd grinned around the cupcake. "Pfft. Technicality."

It was small, that first conversation. You talked about nothing, the music, the cheap wine, how awkward those ‘stand here and smile’ photos were. And when you'd finally left the party, you were sure that was the last of it.

But then came the run-ins. Again.

At the bookstore. At the same street-side ramen place. At the stupid laundromat of all places.

Each time, the same exchange.

You: "Okay, this is getting suspicious."

Him: Deadpan. "I live here. You're the one following me."

The universe was clearly shipping you two harder than your entire fanbase ever could.

But the real kicker came a week later when your manager ambushed you mid-photoshoot with a new assignment.

"Big commercial gig. Big brands, crossover style, you'll be working with athletes again."

You didn't even flinch this time. Please let it be someone normal, you'd prayed silently, half-joking.

Spoiler alert: it wasn't.

The day of the shoot, you arrived early, coffee in hand, only to find him sitting on the armrest of the studio sofa, completely at ease, scrolling through his phone like he owned the place.

The second your eyes met, he locked his phone and gave you the faintest nod, almost amused.

"Guess you're stuck with me again." he muttered.

You'd raised your cup like it was a toast. "Could be worse."

And honestly? It could've. The more you worked together that day, the more the weirdness of ‘Itoshi Sae the world-class footballer’ faded away. He was sharp, calm, and maddeningly good at making your heart do cartwheels with a single glance. But also... surprisingly soft-spoken, and just the right amount of sarcastic to match your chaos.

When the cameras weren't rolling, the two of you sat on the studio floor, sharing a pack of sour candies you’d stashed in your bag, the conversation flipping between random nonsense and quiet silences.

At some point, you caught yourself thinking.

Huh. This isn't so bad. Actually... it’s kinda nice.

༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻

You blinked, pulling yourself out of the memory, stretching your arms overhead like the story had physically weighed on you.

"Yeah." you muttered into the mic, "That's when things got... complicated. After that shoot, we started texting. Then hanging out. Not the usual ‘post it on Instagram and make it obvious’ kind of way. Just... quiet."

Your thumb swiped the chat, watching your fans lose their collective minds.

"I KNEW IT. Texting is the gateway to the heart."

"You two were so private, we thought you were single fr."

"So you're telling me this was a soft slow burn all along?!"

You smiled to yourself, your heart swelling just a little as you stared at the screen.

"Yup. No fancy announcements, no PDA, no hints on social media. Just... us. And honestly, I liked it that way."

You leaned back, glancing at the flight board again.

"But I'm getting ahead of myself." you teased. "If you want the full tea—the real ‘how we actually got together’ story��you're gonna need snacks, drinks, maybe a pillow, because that part?"

You tilted your head toward the camera, grinning wide.

"That's a whole saga on its own."

༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻

You leaned your head against the cold airport window, watching planes blink through the foggy glass while your phone rested comfortably against your knee, still live, your chat buzzing like a beehive.

You were mid-sentence, rambling about the "friendly" phase, when your brain hit that memory, the moment things stopped being just friendly.

Your lips twitched into a soft, secret smile.

"Alright, alright, so here's the part everyone wants." you chuckled, stretching your legs out in front of you. "You've all been dying to know how it went from texting, hanging out, to... official, right?"

The chat exploded with caps and emojis.

You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly.

"Yeah, the thing is... he never actually asked. Like—no ‘will you be my girlfriend?’ no rom-com confession under the rain, no dramatic gestures. It was just... Sae being Sae."

༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻

It had been months.

Months of quiet coffee shop meetups, walking side by side with your hands brushing but never quite touching, late-night texts about the dumbest things, and his deadpan humor paired perfectly with your endless chaos.

And then one ordinary night, the two of you were sitting on his apartment balcony, the Tokyo skyline stretched out before you like an endless string of stars. You were bundled in his oversized hoodie—correction: permanently borrowed hoodie, sipping canned peach soda, while Sae scrolled through something on his phone, utterly relaxed.

The silence wasn't awkward. It never was with him.

Out of nowhere, without even looking up, he spoke:

"You know my schedule, right? Next season's gonna be worse."

You glanced over, raising a brow. "Yeah, your manager already sent me the doomsday calendar."

His lips curved into a faint smirk. "Then you'll have to deal with it."

You blinked. "Deal with what?"

"You. Being stuck with me." He finally tilted his head, looking at you sideways, eyes soft but so unreadable. "You're already here all the time, anyway."

The soda can slipped slightly in your hands.

Wait... is this... is he... asking?

You tilted your head, squinting suspiciously. "Are you... asking me to be your girlfriend without asking me to be your girlfriend?"

His expression didn't even flinch. "If you need me to spell it out, you're dumber than I thought."

You gasped, mock-offended, shoving his shoulder lightly. "Excuse me?!"

But before you could launch into a dramatic fake argument, he reached over, pulling you back gently by the sleeve of his hoodie. His hand stayed there, warm and steady against your arm, anchoring you in place.

"That wasn't a question," he added, voice low but steady.

And just like that, that was it. No grand announcement, no perfect moment. Just simple, real, and entirely him.

༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻

Your fingers absentmindedly fidgeted with the zipper of your jacket, the memory lingering like warmth in your chest.

"Yeah... that’s how it happened," you told your audience, your grin softening. "No dramatic confessions, no fairytale scenes. Just him deciding we were already together without me even realizing it."

The chat blew up in every direction.

"HE JUST CLAIMED YOU LIKE THAT???"

"Sae Itoshi pulled the ‘you're mine, you just don’t know it’ move?? I'm screaming."

"Girl that wasn't even a question. That was a declaration!!"

You laughed, stretching out your legs again, letting the warmth of that night sink in all over again.

"Yeah," you whispered, half to yourself, half to the stream. "That's just... him."

The airport speakers crackled with another delay announcement, and you groaned, flopping back against the chair like your soul had just left your body.

"Guess I've got plenty of time to spill the rest now," you told your phone, your live stream still going strong, chat still wild, even though you were only halfway through your long-winded, slightly embarrassing love story.

You twisted your fingers into your hoodie strings, eyes flicking toward the camera, a little mischievous spark dancing behind your smile.

"So, here's the fun part. When we finally decided to tell people... no one believed us." You let the words hang for dramatic effect.

༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻

You flopped face-first onto your bed, phone dangling from your hand, notifications still blowing up your screen like a mini firework show. Your social feed was chaos—memes, clips, conspiracy theories, fan edits— and all for the same ridiculous reason.

The public didn't believe you and Sae were actually dating.

You groaned into your pillow.

"Why. Why is the world like this?"

Just earlier that week, you finally decided to post that one photo, the soft, cozy one of you wearing his hoodie, feet propped up on his coffee table, his unmistakable blue-and-white game jersey draped on the back of the couch in the background.

The caption was simple:

"Soft launch? Nah. Full send."

And Sae, the man of zero social media energy, actually liked it.

But instead of hearts and celebration, the media? The fans? The blogs?

𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌?

𝙿𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚝?

𝙰𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚝?

They refused to believe it. Your chaotic, sunshine personality, the influencer who couldn't sit still for five seconds, with Japan's most stone-faced, deadpan soccer prince? They weren't buying it.

Truth was, you avoided his matches like the plague.

Sure, you loved seeing him play, but you didn't love the VIP section. You hated the constant camera pans, the forced smiles, and the announcers awkwardly mentioning you every five minutes like you were the main event instead of him.

And even if you could handle that, the crowd wasn’t much better.

"Why do you even go, if all you do is get stared at?" you remembered Sae asking, poking the straw in your drink lazily as the two of you hid in a quiet little ramen shop once.

"Exactly! I don't," you shot back. "You wanna know how awkward it is to sit there, every second feeling like I should wave or pose for the camera? I'm not tryna be the soccer wife template, okay?"

And as usual, Sae just nodded, no offense taken, no guilt tripped, just casually accepting your boundaries without blinking.

And the interviews? His manager probably sent him a dozen pre-approved questions about you every week, and he still answered the same way:

"Private life's got nothing to do with the field."

"Next question."

"No comment."

You loved him for that. But the world? They took it as proof you were all for show.

You rolled onto your back, clutching your phone to your chest dramatically.

"I want everyone to know you're mine, damn it!" you whined out loud, even though Sae wasn't even in the room.

Your phone buzzed, and speak of the devil, his name flashed across your screen.

A text, short as always.

Sae: 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭?

You typed back furiously, thumbs moving like you were fighting for your life.

You: 𝐘𝐄𝐒. 𝐈 𝐚𝐦! 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐈𝐦 𝐟𝐚𝐤𝐞-𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮! 𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬? 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬!!

A few seconds passed.

Another buzz.

Sae: 𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞.

You let out the most dramatic gasp, holding your chest like you’d been mortally wounded.

He doesn't care. He's so... him.

But even in the middle of your whiny pout, your phone vibrated once more, and his last message made your stomach flip

Sae: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐬.

Your lips twitched into a defeated smile.

Yeah. That's true.

Bonus: Later that week, you caught him scrolling past some article about your "fake" relationship. His only reaction?

"Tch. They're dumb."

And then he slid his phone back into his pocket, grabbed your hand, and squeezed it liked the whole world could fall away and he'd still be fine, as long as you were beside him.

It wasn't just the fans.

It wasn't just the media.

It was everyone.

Even your own best friend.

You sat cross-legged on your couch, phone balanced on your knee, holding back a groan while your bestie's voice played through the speaker like the most supportive but suspicious customer service rep on Earth.

"So… Sae Itoshi, huh?" they hummed, voice full of that polite, careful tone people use when they think you’re about to tell them you joined a pyramid scheme. "You're really serious about this?"

You flopped onto your back dramatically, one arm tossed over your face.

"Yes, I'm serious! Why does nobody ever believe me?!"

Your best friend laughed, soft but teasing.

"It's just... you only post about him once or twice a week then it's just you with your routine. You're always hanging out with me or working. And he doesn't mention you in interviews either, so…"

You sat up and grabbed a throw pillow, clutching it like a lifeline.

"Because we like being private! You know how insane people are about celeb couples. We don't need the world crawling up our noses."

Your best friend didn't sound mean about it, or even doubtful in a harsh way, just unconvinced in that "I love you, but I’m side-eyeing this" way.

"Well, if it's real, I'm happy for you. But I'll believe it when I see him at a family dinner or something."

You froze.

Family dinner. Right. That wasn't helping your case either.

༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻

Your family was no better.

Every group call, every visit, every holiday, someone always asked the same thing:

"Are you still seeing that soccer guy?"

"Yes, I am!"

And always, the same suspicious, supportive-but-totally-judging smile.

"Mhm. Must be hard, dating a busy man like that. You two probably don't see each other much, huh?"

You wanted to yeet your phone across the room every time.

It wasn't their fault.

They weren’t being cruel, or bitter, in fact, they were probably trying to avoid sounding jealous.

But they hadn't seen Sae show up at birthdays, or in your Insta stories, or on the group vacations.

And every time you'd try to explain the situation, the words sounded faker and faker even to your own ears.

"He's busy with training."

"He doesn't like social media."

"We like keeping things private."

"It's not that serious to everyone else, but it is to us."

You knew it was true. You knew Sae wasn't some trophy boyfriend for display. But you also knew how invisible your relationship looked to the outside world.

The meet-and-greet was in full swing. Flashing lights, smiles so wide your cheeks hurt, laughter so loud it made your ears ring — you were in your natural habitat, bouncing from fan to fan like a hyper, overcaffeinated puppy.

You signed merch, posed for selfies, gave out warm hugs, and listened to all the sweet things your fans had to say.

"You're literally the best person ever."

"You make my day so much brighter."

"You're my comfort streamer, always."

And then, the classic.

"So… are you really dating Sae Itoshi?"

You smiled, the same smile you'd mastered over the past few months. The yes-it's-true-but-nobody-believes-me-anyway smile.

"Yup! Totally. 100%."

Cue the polite giggles.

They didn't mean it in a mean way. In fact, you loved how playful your fans were about it. But deep down, it still poked at you like an itch you couldn't scratch.

They were so sure it was fake.

Why wouldn't they be? You and Sae were barely ever seen together unless a manager forced it. You hated attending his matches. He hated social media. It all lined up too perfectly, like the plot of every fake celebrity romance scandal.

You'd whined about it to him just last night. Practically buried your face in his chest, grumbling like a five-year-old.

"Why won't anyone believe me? I want the whole world to know you're mine!"

And like always, he'd just ruffled your hair, kissed your forehead, and said.

"Let them think what they want. I know what’s real."

But apparently, Sae Itoshi had a limit, too.

Because while you were grinning at the next fan in line, mid-conversation, halfway through signing your name on a hoodie, the room shifted.

There were gasps, murmurs, and the kind of hush that only happens when someone so unexpected, so untouchable, walks into the room.

You lifted your head and froze.

Standing casually near the back, hands in his pockets like this was the most normal thing in the world, was Sae Itoshi himself.

Your jaw dropped.

Before you could even string a single thought together, he was walking toward you, eyes locked on yours like there was no one else in the world. And without stopping, without saying a word, without hesitation.

He leaned in and kissed you.

Soft but confident. No over-the-top drama, no staged posing. Just real. Simple. Certain.

When he pulled back, the silence was deafening. For once in your chaotic, noisy life, you were speechless.

Your fans were quiet, wide-eyed, some blinking like they’d just been hit by the plot twist of the century. But not in a bad way. No hate. Just pure, I-can't-believe-I-just-witnessed-that energy.

You blinked up at him, your voice breathless but happy, giddy from the surprise.

"What are you doing here??"

Sae tilted his head slightly, his signature deadpan expression softening at the corners.

"You kept whining about nobody believing you."

A pause.

"I can't take it anymore. So here I am, making sure they're convinced we're together until the end."

You wanted to melt into the floor.

The fans, finally breaking out of their stunned silence, burst into soft claps and cheers. No screaming chaos, no wild frenzy, just a wave of warm, supportive acceptance like, "Well, damn. Guess it was real all along."

And just like that...

All your whining finally paid off.

You couldn't stop smiling even as the meet-and-greet wrapped up, Sae waiting nearby like the world’s most casually overprotective boyfriend, hands tucked in his pockets, eyes glancing toward you every few minutes.

And this time, when you scrolled through your notifications later that night, the headlines weren't speculating with assumptions anymore.

Confirmed: Itoshi Sae And Our Influencer Queen Are Officially Together. For Real.

You stretch your arms above your head, rolling your neck side to side as the loudspeaker overhead calls out another delayed flight. Your phone, propped up against your coffee cup on the little table, is still going strong, the live stream timer blinking away.

The screen is flooded with hearts, emojis, and comment after comment, your fans practically vibrating through the chat.

You let out a small yawn, your voice light and teasing.

"—And that, my friends, is the full story. Yup. That’s how your favourite chaotic influencer and Mr Ice-Block Sae Itoshi became a thing." You grin at the camera, lifting your drink for a little toast. "No fake dating, no PR stunt, just real-deal feelings and a very stubborn soccer boy who took his sweet time making everyone believe me."

The comments start rolling in faster now that you finally stopped talking, and you lean closer, eyes flicking across the screen.

"OKAY OKAY I BELIEVE YOU NOW MY QUEEN I’M SORRY."

"THE WAY I DIDN'T BELIEVE YOU FOR MONTHS I FEEL SO DUMB."

"I KNEW IT! I FREAKING KNEW IT! You two are so real I'm crying."

"Plot twist: Sae is the softest boyfriend behind the scenes."

"Her telling the whole story at an airport like a rom-com main character."

You chuckle under your breath, heart swelling a little at the waves of support finally pouring in. The very people who doubted you for so long were now spamming apologies, excitement, and even edits waiting to be made the second this livestream ended.

You leaned back in the chair, looking out at the huge glass windows where planes rolled slowly across the runway. Your lips curl into a smile, fingers tapping against your cup.

"See?" you mutter under your breath, knowing full well Sae isn't here to hear it. "Told you they'd believe me eventually."

The screen blinks again with another message from a fan.

"Now tell us, where are you flying off to, Queen?"

You smirk playfully at the camera, pressing a finger to your lips.

"Ah, ah, ah—that's for me and a certain someone to know. Spoilers, you know?"

And just like that, the screen explodes with more theories, more hearts, and more love.

You close your eyes for a moment, listening to the soft airport hum, your mind wandering to the boy who'd flipped your world upside down without even trying, the boy who wasn't so icy, once the cameras stopped rolling.

You're still grinning at the endless flood of comments lighting up your phone screen, fans spamming:

"WHERE YOU GOING?"

"IS SAE PICKING YOU UP??"

"TELL USSSSS."

When suddenly—A voice from behind, smooth and slightly amused, cuts through the airport noise.

"So that's why you didn't greet me."

Your breath catches, and your whole body stiffens for half a second before you whip your head around. There he stands, casual as ever in a hoodie and cap, hands in his pockets, Itoshi Sae.

You blink like your brain short-circuited.

Oh.

He's here.

The chat explodes the moment the camera catches the hint of him standing behind you, leaning over slightly to glance at the screen. The comments spiral into full-blown chaos:

"IS THAT SAE?????"

"WHAT THE ACTUAL—"

"NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY."

"SAE APPEARED IN THE FLESH. CONFIRMED."

"I CAN'T BREATHE."

You laugh, cheeks heating up as you tilt the phone slightly toward him, watching as Sae raises a brow at the scrolling flood of reactions. He gives the camera the most casual glance, like he hadn't just walked into your live stream unannounced, and then looks back at you.

"You done?" he asks.

Because, of course, he knows you've been here talking about him for who-knows-how-long.

You roll your eyes playfully, bringing your hand up to brush a strand of hair away from your face. "Almost," you reply with a soft grin, turning your attention back to your fans, who are practically foaming at the mouth at this point.

You lift your left hand, casually wiggling your ring finger right in front of the camera, the glint of a sleek, simple ring catching the light. Your grin widens when you say, sweet as ever:

"Oh, right. Almost forgot to mention—we're engaged."

And with that, you reach over and hit the "End Stream" button, the last thing your fans see being your smug little wink and the chat blowing up so fast the app almost lags.

Phone off, you glance back at Sae, who—for once—lets out the softest huff of a laugh.

"You just had to drop that like a bomb, huh?" he mutters.

You sling your bag over your shoulder, nudging him lightly. "You didn't want me whining anymore, remember? Plus, I love it when I leave my fans with cliffhangers."

And without another word, he reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, as the two of you stroll off toward the gate, away from the flashing cameras, the exploding comments, and the doubters.

Just the two of you.

Till the end.

[yokumirumerafan]

HELLO I JUST DISCOVERED YOUR PROFILE AND I LOVE IT!

What would the Hashiras think of a reader reading their tarot cards? Would they think it was nonsense? Would they be curious? Would they ask for a reading? Tarot reader readings are always accurate and very good!

EEEE HI BBG 💛💛💛 THANK YOUUUU FOR THE LOVE AND FOR BEING HERE YOU’RE AMAZING MWAH 🫶🫶🫶 Okay okay LET'S DO THIS — ✨Tarot Reader S/O with the Hashira✨

🪷 Giyuu Tomioka

He's skeptical at first. Like “cards… tell the future?” 👁👄👁

Sits there silently while you shuffle, lowkey nervous

When your reading is scary accurate, he just nods like: “Hmph. I never said I didn’t believe you.”

Starts coming to you secretly for guidance and never tells the others

🐍 Obanai Iguro

Pretends he doesn’t believe in it… but watches very closely

Kaburamaru slithers near the deck like 👀

Gets flustered if you pull a card about romance, immediately accuses you of cheating the deck lol

Actually very curious but will only admit it in private

🐗 Sanemi Shinazugawa

“THESE FLIMSY PIECES OF PAPER AIN’T TELLING ME NOTHING.”

Immediately offended when you pull “The Tower” for him 💀

You read his energy like a book and he gets all mad like “TCH I’M NOT SENSITIVE.”

But still comes back later like “…so what did the cards say again?”

🔥 Kyojuro Rengoku

VERY INTO IT. “AH! HOW INTERESTING! YOUR SPIRITUAL TALENTS ARE EXCELLENT!!”

Treats it like a ceremony, sits respectfully and asks thoughtful questions

Takes your readings seriously, especially anything about danger or fate

Will absolutely ask you to do a reading for his whole squad

💎 Gyomei Himejima

Instantly respectful. He believes in unseen forces and fate

Meditates while you shuffle, treats your work with utmost reverence

Gets super reflective after each reading, may weep in gratitude 🥹

Will bless your deck and make you a wooden tarot box to protect it

🦋 Shinobu Kocho

Skeptical scientist mode engaged.

Tries to explain probability and logic at first… until you read her emotions perfectly

Starts asking casually like “You wouldn’t happen to have time to pull a card or two, would you?”

Secretly finds your tarot readings calming

🌸 Mitsuri Kanroji

OH SHE’S OBSESSED. She thinks it’s SO romantic and fun!!!

Gasps dramatically at every card and gets so excited

“Omg the Lovers card!! Does that mean we’re soulmates???” 💞💞💞

Will ask you to read her cards every week and then hugs you after every reading

☁️ Muichiro Tokito

Huh? Tarot? Oh, cool.

Doesn’t really “get it” but doesn’t mind either. Mostly just stares at the cards and thinks they’re pretty

Somehow your readings always unlock a weird memory or feeling in him and he goes blank mid-session

Says “thank you” in the softest voice ever and wanders off deep in thought

🎋 Tengen Uzui

Flashy as hell about it.

“A fortune told by my beloved?? Now THAT’S flamboyant!”

Demands you give him a ✨Tengen-special✨ reading with glitter and incense

Brings his wives too for a group session and they all take it super seriously (especially Suma who cries when you say she’s gonna have good luck 😭)

[cinnbar-bun]

Trading Cards- Cross Guild's Day Off 1 (Cross Guild x Reader)

Summary: In which you work with the three Cross Guild officers and stumble across a new trading card game to introduce to them. Hilarity ensues.

Rating: SFW/Crack

Word Count: 1.8k

Notes: No relationships are defined, so feel free to headcanon whatever you want. I know it says x Reader up there and I wrote it in mind that it's a weird ass polycule but I made sure to leave it ambiguous for your reading pleasure. Reader is GN and gets Gumshoe'd, while Mihawk gains a gambling addiction. Minor swearing and violence (but funny).

A/n: Yes I collect the trading cards and I'll be damned if I don't put these three men through hell for funsies in this series (guess what's gonna happen next time).

"What's with all those boxes?” Buggy rubs his red nose as he twirls a knife in hand as you walk into the office. 

“You’ll never believe this! Apparently, someone’s been selling trading cards of famous pirates and marines! It’s a crazy new thing!” You happily plop the boxes on your desk. “And so, I managed to nab a few boxes!” 

Crocodile lowers the newspaper he’s reading to reveal his agitated face. “With whose money?” 

“Oh, that’s no biggie,” you wave off. 

“I’m docking your next paycheck,” Crocodile states as he goes back to reading. Mihawk raises a brow. 

“I have to ask, can they really just sell cards of us like that?” The swordsman questions. “Besides, what makes cards like that so interesting? Isn’t this simply a child’s collection?” 

“That’s what you think! But apparently, there are some secret rare cards everyone’s been dying to get their hands on!” 

You get a dark blue box and marvel at it. 

“Hey, why the hell is that Straw Hat on it?!” Buggy screams. “He’s a nobody! Who the hell wants a card of him?!” 

“Don’t worry, there’s cards of you, I think,” you respond, and Buggy gasps before lunging for the box. “Where?!” 

“I think it’s in one of them,” you point to the many boxes, and Buggy huffs. 

“Well hurry up and get to them!” 

“Don’t you guys wanna open them? They’re meant to be played in fun games,” you ask. “Here, I’ll separate them by fours, and everyone gets to make a new deck!” 

“I have no desire to-” Crocodile begins as you drop the card packets on his desk. 

“This is a strange form of games, but my interest is slightly piqued. I’ll take some,” Mihawk says, extending his hand. Buggy pouts as he’s the last to get them. 

“Now, open!” You yell, while you and the Cross Guild leaders begin to open the card packets. Buggy is tearing through them, shuffling through the cards manically. 

“HUH?! ALVIDA?!” He screams. “That’s not fair! How is she in this?!” 

He gets more frustrated as he opens the remaining packets. “They all say ‘C’ on them!” 

“They’re all common then,” you explain. Buggy lets out a sob at his bad luck. Mihawk and Crocodile ignore Buggy’s wails before Mihawk clears his throat. 

“I’m not asking for any particular reason, but since this is supposed to contain the most famous pirates, does that mean Red-Haired Shanks is a part of this?” Mihawk asks, a curious tinge in his voice. 

“I believe he is in here,” you nod. At your confirmation, Mihawk glares at the cards in his hands and tears them up. 

“C. C. C. C. SR. SR. C. C. R. R. C. UC,” Mihawk reads aloud his card rarities as he opens the pack. 

“Woah, who’re the SR’s?” You ask before Mihawk tosses the cards to the floor and opens another pack. 

“C. C. C. C. C. R. R. UC. UC. R. C. C.” 

“Mihawk, are you-” 

“C. C. C. C. C. C. C. UC. UC. R. C. L.” 

“Holy shit,” Buggy stares in awe as Mihawk’s hands move faster and his eyes frantically roam over the cards. 

“C. C. C. C. C. C. C. R. R. UC. C. L.” 

Crocodile rolls his eyes as Mihawk eventually covers his face with his hands, the non-Shanks having pile of cards a mess on the floor.

“What do you have?” The hooked man asks you. 

“Let’s see…” you open some packets and shrug at the some of the common cards, before you smile at an SR card. “I got you!” 

You proudly show off your new SR rarity Crocodile card. Crocodile motions you to step closer and gazes at the card. “Huh. That’s interesting. I better be strong.” 

“Maybe. I mean, it is an SR, and that’s pretty good!” 

“Why the hell are you an SR?! That’s bullshit! You got your ass handed to you by Straw Hat-” 

Crocodile immediately silences Buggy by pressing his hook onto the clown’s throat. “Want to finish that?” 

“N-no-” 

You continue to hum as you go through more cards. “Oh, Boa Hancock!” You squeal. “She’s so cool!” 

“Not as cool as us…” Buggy whines. Mihawk is still despondent on the couch. 

“Woah, I got Mihawk, too!” You gasp as a very cool card of Mihawk sitting on his throne is in your hands. 

“Okay, now that’s complete and utter crap! These two get in, but I don’t?! What the hell! I should burn these guys!” 

“How did they find out how my outfit and room looked like…” Mihawk mumbled as his face scrunched up. 

“You guys are getting so worked up over some silly cards,” Crocodile clicks his tongue as his cigar hangs from his lips. 

“Easy for you to say! You at least have a card in here!” Buggy whines. “This is so stupid! (Y/n), give me the other boxes, now!” 

“Hey, don’t grab them!” You swat your hands at the clown. “Crocodile still has to open his.” 

“I don’t care about him! I want to find me!” Buggy grabs the first box you opened and notices a pamphlet. 

“Huh? ‘Get your starter packs to begin playing’?” Buggy squinted as he went through the listed starter packs. “Let’s see… Straw Hat, that red-head-” 

“Shanks?!” Mihawk jumps. 

“Not that red-head,” Buggy interjects, and Mihawk sighs. “Kaido, Big Mom, Crocodi- wait a damn minute! How are you the face of one of the starter packs?” 

“I am?” Crocodile blows a puff of smoke. 

“Yeah! ‘Seven Warlords of the Sea’ starter pack! You jerk! Why is it you?!” Buggy screams angrily as Crocodile chuckles and twirls his cigar in his fingers. 

“Well, I am the obvious choice, aren’t I?” Crocodile strokes his chin. “I am strong, handsome, and far more intelligent and renown than the others. Why wouldn’t they put me on the cards?” 

“And humble,” you mutter. 

“Another dock to your paycheck,” Crocodile adds, the smile on his face returning to his usual humorless appearance. 

You slump your shoulders pitifully. “Crocodile, I can barely afford instant ramen at this rate.” 

“Aw, it’s okay, Buggy’s here for you,” Buggy chuckles as he pats your back, relieved he’s not at the receiving end of Mihawk and Crocodile’s torment. 

The four of you continue to open box after box of booster packs, with you mostly happy to just see the cool art, and Buggy hitting the floor in retaliation to his awful cards. 

“Nothing! Not even one of me! And they’re all commons!” 

“I really don’t know how that happened…” you pitifully look at him. 

“You making fun of my nose?!” Buggy screamed, looking up at you as his makeup smeared down his face due to his crying. 

“Oh…” you wince at the sorry state he’s in. “It’s okay, we can always-” 

“Shiny foil!” Mihawk shouts, making everyone in the room jump. “Is it finally-” 

He pulls out the card, only to scream in agony as he drops to his knees and lets the card fall through his fingers. 

You curiously pick up the card, only to see it’s sadly not Shanks, but someone called… “Sogeking”? 

“Who is this?” You stared at the card. 

“(Y/n),” Mihawk shakily fumbles through his pockets and pulls out a bag of berries. “I don’t care what it costs. Go. Buy more boxes.” 

He drops the bag in your hands and shields his eyes with a hand. Crocodile opens another packet and lets out a chilling laugh. 

“What’s so funny, Croc?” Buggy asks, nervously anticipating how badly things will go when Crocodile is laughing like that. 

“You’re looking for a card of Red-Hair, aren’t you?” Crocodile’s voice lowers, the smirk on his face widening. 

“No we’re not!” Mihawk and Buggy shout at the same time, making you and Mihawk raise a brow at Buggy’s admission. 

“Oh? So then it’s fine if I keep this card? Perhaps sell it even?” Crocodile holds up the card and everyone’s eyes are wide as you three gasp. 

In his hand, is the Secret rarity Shanks card. 

“You…” Mihawk says under his breath. 

“How the hell did…” Buggy’s eye twitches. 

“Woah… so lucky,” your eyes lighten. Crocodile’s chest rises with every laugh he lets out. 

“Since no one else wants it, I think I may just sell it and get back the money (Y/n) stole for this!” He proclaims. 

In an instant, Mihawk stands up and pulls out Yoru, pointing it at Crocodile. 

“Hand it over.” 

“You don’t get to make the demands here, Hawk Eyes,” Crocodile shakes his head. “What are you willing to offer?” 

“Give it, or I’ll kill you.” 

“Okaaay, well, there’s no need to kill each other-” you stand up, trying to get between the two men. 

“I’m not asking again, Crocodile,” Mihawk threatens. Buggy scowls and then jumps to his feet, pulling out his knives. 

“Yeah! We aren’t asking again! Hand it over!” Buggy yells, feeling confident with Mihawk’s strength at his side. 

Mihawk locks his gold eyes onto Buggy and Buggy cowers in fear. 

“N-never mind! Have it!” He surrenders. 

You nervously think of what to do before you rip up the last packet in the room and pray to whoever is listening for another Shanks. 

C. C. C. C. C. C. UC. UC. C. C. C. 

You gulp. There’s only one more card. This card can either save your life, or lead to a massacre from Mihawk. Your fingers reach in and pull out the last card, and you raise a brow at the shiny gold border. 

“What is this,” you murmur as you finally reveal the full card. 

A Secret rarity Shanks card. But unlike Crocodile’s card, yours is a stunning art piece of Shanks. With a gold border and a badass look in Shank’s eyes, you’re in awe. Even Buggy gasps at the sight. 

“M-Mihawk! We got you a Shanks!” You flail the card in your hand to draw his attention, and Mihawk swipes the card from you. 

“Don’t do that! You’ll ruin it!” He lectures you and stares at the card. “Incredible. I never knew this was in here.” 

He drops Yoru to the ground and presses the card to his chest, as if all the weight in the world was finally gone from him. Crocodile rolled his eyes and promptly threw his card to the ground in front of Buggy. 

“Come the hell on, (Y/n)! I was negotiating!” Crocodile sighs in frustration and rests his chin on his hand. “I’m not paying you at all this week!” 

You don’t even care anymore, crying tears of joy at the fact the sword that clattered on the ground beside you was not spearing your chest. 

“Since we all got decks now, why don’t we try and play the game?” You innocently suggest. You lay out the multipage rule guide and manual as the three men surround you to take a peek. 

Immediately after seeing the abundance of rules, all of you grimace and shake your heads. 

“Maybe another time.” 

“Yeah.” 

“That’s good.” 

“Great idea.” 

[ddejavvu]

ok so personally, Im usually so adverse to romantic interactions that even if I click on that someone is genuinely pursuing me, ill ignore it or pretend they arent. maybe a defence mechanism? idk BUT it does make for the most rabid situations and thoughts ever ever ever

imaging best friend!James and reader maybe getting into the situation in which they have to share a bed sometime. maybe its a group vacation or something. in my head - James potter is a serial humper in his sleep sometimes. hes a big guy in all aspects, and he also cant help but wanna cuddle with you to sleep!! but that also means he wakes himself up a couple times by grinding softly on u, and he feels so bad, but thankfully youve never woken up cus of it. separately, youve also learnt to not mention that you can quite clearly uh..feel him some mornings when ur both drowsy, pressed together n still groggy. and you, oh so conveniently also never mention that you kinda like how it feels. but, hey-ho.

its the middle of the night, and as usual, James is spooning you from behind, he has to be bent a little to fit his head in ur hair, and hes pressing his entire body against ur back. the air still smells of washed-off sunscreen and sea salt, and theres a fan going in the corner of the room. and this time James wakes up to YOU humping HIM. im talking, his breath hitches and everythingggg until he realises ur sleep. ur asleep and grinding back on him and ur breathing is all stuttered and he always guessed youd be a little quiet but ur little noises are so breathy and holy shit ur wet????? theres no way you get this wet.. until James realises that hes propped himself up on his arm and is just staring down at where ur moving ur hips on him and he tries to snap himself out of it by waking u up. ur still groggy but absolutely mortified when he tells you "yeah bug, you uh- y'got a little excited 'bout me in ur sleep, huh? s'okay yknow, its okay :]"

and he 100% offers to help you out. even when u say that friends arent suppose to do that, AND also mumbling about how guys normally didn't really make girls cum and mentioning abt how you always hear people say its too complicated, he just brings up how you just grinded on his lap in ur sleep, and that felt good, so, how can it not be allowed? its just a friend helping out a friend! :) and that he can definitely get u off, he'd be sooo good at it!! the only way this goes in my head is that not much shuffling around is done, all that changed is that ur on ur back now, and hes licking his bottom lip into his mouth as he looms over you slightly from ur side, his hands moving down and down. he'd definitely be tilting his head and "yeah, this part feels really good, yeah? yeah" all nodding and smiling n shit. 'best friend' James from that point on, takes any opportunity to 'help you out', he'd transition into using more than his fingers too. he was in love with you before this but now???? hes a goner.

babe thank u for blessing me with these cause i did NOT feel like writing today so i let you tell me a story and it was amazing <333

this post is 18+, minors dni.

james potter sleep slut is canon in my mind... just the way he wakes up with his big beefy arms wrapped around you while his hips move?? mhm. and he wakes up and is like ohshitohshitohshit but he doesn't wanna let go!!! so he just tries to dial himself back in, but he most likely needs a minute in the bathroom to compose himself </3

no but if you feel it in the morning.. you don't wanna point it out 'cause what if he says something like 'oh sorry i'm just really sensitive' or 'sometimes the wind makes it do that' LIKE NO. YOU WANNA KNOW IF IT'S REALLY BECAUSE OF YOU. so you just keep quiet, but in the early morning when he's sleepily begging for fivemoreminutes and isn't quite in tune with his body yet, you're definitely hyper aware of his hard on digging into your thigh or butt or hip or belly or whatever <3

when HE wakes up to YOU grinding on HIM he's mindblown.. he knows he likes you, he knows you're pretty, but he marvels at how amazing you look while dragging your hips back against his, like how could you look this amazing??

but he feels even worse watching you than he does accidentally doing it in his sleep, 'cause this isn't an accident!! he's not catching you in the act by mistake anymore, he's just watching you grind on him and getting all worked up about it, which in turn is only making him more hard. finally he decides to just wake you, smoothing your hair away from your face and kissing your cheek, murmuring your name softly until you finally rouse. and when you're blubbering sleepily at him 'why'd you wake me?' he just smiles like :] oh you were having a wet dream :] just wanted you to know :] and you're !!!!!!! WHAT !!!!!!!

you're instantly apologizing a million times but he's reassuring you like no no no!! it's okay bug, really!! happens to the best of us <3 but if you want some help w that i can help you!! i mean i've got the facilities, trust me. just say the word and we can make your dreams come true :]

you're just instantly terrified. you're shaking your head, sitting up like no, that's not what friends do. and- and it's hard! to make a girl- y'know... and he's like ?? no it's not ?? i promise i won't have a hard time with you bug.

so once you've suggested that he won't be able to do it.. he's gonna do it. he'd never ever force you to do anything against your will but the only excuses that you have are that friends don't do that (and they totally do!!! james is right now!!!!) and that it would probably be hard for him, and nothing about you not wanting it. so when he finally gets it out of you that yes you want it, but no he won't be able to help, he's gonna go to town. he begs for a chance to prove you wrong and you should have known with his super competitive nature that challenging him would be dumb, but i mean. worst case scenario he can't do it. you're already expecting that. why not??

so he tries, rubbing your pretty little clit and stroking over your folds before dipping between them, only a little upset that you're already wet because it means that he can't get you all worked up first, he can't kiss the slick out of you, he can't suck on your neck until you're wet, it's already there </3 but next time for sure, for now he's very excited about just being able to touch you

your cunt is warm and wet and everything he's ever dreamed of, but he's too nervous about overstepping to ask to eat you out, so he doesn't.. but in future, it's coming.

but he absolutely soaks in the moment, humming and cooing and crooning at you about how good it feels, asking you every time you whimper if it feels nice, if he's doing it right, if you think he'll be able to finish you off. and it's so intoxicating having him that close that you absolutely have to use all of your willpower to not kiss him while he hovers over you. he guides you through your orgasm and brings you down gently, absolutely the perfect lover, and he even asks if he can lick his fingers clean. he's like wouldn't think it was weird, would you, bug? I can clean 'em off? and when you nod he sucks them clean, humming at your taste and grinning giddily at you.

now you have a helper ! he will not leave u alone. bed sharing is a must now, and the more you sleep together, the more horny you are for him, and the more you wake up in the middle of the night, and the more he 'helps you out', and it is a cycle that you couldn't break if you tried, not that you'd ever want to.

[actuallysaiyan]

Call Me Mom!(Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader)

warnings: fluff, Izuku calling reader mom by accident, blood, mentions of having children, awkwardness word count: 1k pairings: Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader summary: When Izuku accidentally calls you mom one day, you decide to have a talk with Inko to clear things up. But she's more than happy to know her son has someone else to look up to and that supports him... a/n: dividers by @adornedwithlight

It all happened so fast. Within a blink of an eye really. 

“Thanks, mom!”

The words almost sounded like they came out of his mouth in slow motion. You looked over at young Midoriya, your eyes wide. Before any of you could say anything else, Toshinori is coughing up blood and excusing himself.

“Uh–no I mean thank you, sensei!”

But the words had already come out of Izuku’s mouth. Your heart was racing. Your mind was trying to catch up with everything else. Then you look down at the young man you were just helping with his equipment.

He’s blushing and muttering to himself, trying to make himself feel better about the blunder. You don’t even know what to say or how to react to make it all better. In fact, you’re muttering to yourself now, making Toshinori worry about the both of you. You feel a strong hand on your shoulder and when you turn to face your partner, you notice that he has such a soft smile on his face.

“It was an accident, dear. Right, young Midoriya?”

Midoriya nods his head, “Y-yeah!”

But this accident leads you to having dinner with the boy’s mom. His actual mother.

You fussed over what you’d wear. You were nearly tearing out your hair trying to look presentable. This was an important night after all.

Ever since you and Toshinori started dating, you have taken a liking to Izuku as well. How could you not? The boy was so charming, despite his neurotic and obsessive tendencies. Seeing him idolize your lover, you knew that Izuku was a genuinely kind person. And it didn’t take him long to become attached to you as well. That’s how you got into this mess anyway.

Toshinori is your rock in this situation. He rings the doorbell, a box of gourmet pastries shuffled in his hands. You try to smooth back your hair for the umpteenth time. You feel so nervous about this. You had never met Inko, but you heard lots of good things about her from both Izuku and Toshinori.

Izuku opens the door, his eyes alight with joy and idolization when he sees both you and Toshi in your best outfits. He invites you both in, guiding you to the dining room. You finally get a chance to see the home where Izuku grew up. 

Inko is standing at the counter, her own cheeks slightly pink. When her son set this dinner up, she wasn’t quite sure how to react. But she knew that it was important for you and her to finally meet. Especially since Izuku wouldn’t stop talking you up.

“Mom, they’re here!” Izuku calls. 

Inko gets a good look at you and she’s blushing even more. You aren’t sure how to react to any of this. Your hand clutches Toshi’s in a form of settling your already frazzled nerves. Inko turns to Midoriya, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

“ Izuku, you didn’t say she was so young! And you tell me they are dating?! ”

Her words cause your lover to cough up blood. You’re so quick to pull a handkerchief from your purse and you wipe the blood away. When Inko sees how tender you are with the older man, it’s obvious to her how much you love him.

Despite the little setback, dinner goes off without a hitch. You and Inko actually find you have much in common. And you even help her with the dishes afterwards. When Izuku leads Toshinori into his room, this gives you and her a moment to actually talk.

“I can see why you two are together,” she says as she hands you a plate to dry. “Toshinori-san is very taken with you.”

You blush and nearly drop the plate. “Huh?! Oh…we met through this job. When he started teaching, I found myself wanting to help him out.”

Inko laughs, “Izuku told me you were sweet. I’m glad I get to see this.”

You want to tell her about what happened the other day. You nervously look around before you turn to face her. Her eyes widen a little at your now serious face. Then she’s growing worried when you begin to cry.

“Inko-sama. I’m so so sorry! Izuku called me mom by accident the other day! I didn’t want to make this awkward and now I’ve gone and ruined everything! I’m so sorry.”

When you begin bowing to her, she knows she needs to stop you. With a motherly touch, she places her hand on your shoulder. Immediately you find yourself calming down. You sniffle softly, looking at her curiously.

“It’s fine. Really, it is. Please don’t apologize.” Inko smiles. “I’m so happy my son has someone else to look up to. And it’s only natural that he would see you that way.”

You cock your head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t see me as often as he used to. Me and Izuku used to do everything together. I know that he’s growing up and becoming stronger, but he needs someone to watch over him in a motherly way. And I’m glad it’s you.”

She pulls you into her arms, rubbing your back soothingly. You begin to feel so much warmth radiating from her. Inko was a very good mother, but there was something even more there that you couldn’t put your finger on. Izuku was a lucky boy to have her.

“Thank you. Inko-sama.”

She laughs., “No need to be so formal. Inko is fine.”

The two of you return to your task. Then she turns to you and smirks.

“So, I suppose this means you and Toshinori will be having children of your own soon?”

The question causes you to drop a plate this time. You turn to watch as your husband coughs up blood for the second time this evening, his eyes wide. Izuku and Inko look at each other and laugh.

“What’s so funny?! How can you laugh at a time like this?!” You ask, trying to pick up the pieces of the broken plate.

Izuku smirks. “Because you both had the same look on your face!”

Inko and Izuku both imitate you and Toshinori, leaving you and your partner just a little speechless. Then he takes your hand in his, smiling at you. Then he looks at Izuku.

“That would make you a big brother, wouldn’t it, young Midoriya?”

Izuku’s eyes widen and his cheeks burn. Toshinori gets the last laugh tonight.

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2024– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

[msbigredmachine]

New To This - Chapter 5

MASTERLIST

“Sup, trick,” a soft voice chuckled next to Delilah, and she turned to see Tiwa, her co-worker at the supermarket, presenting her a can of Mountain Dew and a bowl of jollof rice and stewed chicken as she joined her to sit on the staircase outside on their lunch break. “Want some?”

Delilah grimaced and bit into her carrot stick for emphasis. “You know I can’t have that. I’m workin’ out and shit.”

“Oh yeah, I keep forgetting about your wrestling. Shoulda brought you a salad or somethin’,” Tiwa joked, causing Delilah to roll her eyes good-naturedly. The two women had known each other since high school and had run in different social circles back then, but working together for the past four years had closed that gap between them.

“So, how’s wedding planning going? You still got time for that with your wrestling and all?” Tiwa asked as she threw her braids behind her shoulder.

“It’s going,” Delilah shrugged, staring out into the empty backlot of the supermarket. “My Mama’s making sure it’s going, anyway. We’ve put a deposit on the reception hall, but haven’t decided on the catering. I haven’t even thought about a dress yet. Luckily I got my mom’s wedding dress to fall back on if everything else goes to shit.”

“You sound bored outta your fuckin’ mind,” Tiwa pointed out, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve never heard any woman sound this uninterested about planning her own wedding.”

“It’s not boredom. I’m just…tired,” Delilah insisted, shuffling her feet on the step she sat on. “Training and working two jobs hasn’t given me much time to think of anything else.”

“What about your man? Is he going to Panama City with you for the show? I mean, that’s gotta be exciting, right?”

“For me? Absolutely,” she responded, turning her face toward the sun. “The networking opportunities are beyond my wildest dreams. For him? Not really. He’s never been a wrestling fan. And he still thinks I’m outta my mind,” she added with a roll of her eyes. In reality, she knew that half the town thought the same way, but she never let it deter her. What she wanted to do with her life was no one’s fucking business.

Tiwa nodded in what seemed like understanding and chewed her food slowly. “That bad, huh?”

“Yeah, that bad. He’s not cooperating at all.” Delilah huffed, feeling her blood begin to boil already. “First off, he refused to come to my first match. My very first match! He bitches about my training schedule all the fuckin’ time now. What is scaring him so much?”

“Gee, where do I start?” Tiwa snorted.

Delilah looked back at her co-worker, startled by her response. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, girl. Look at it. Y’all supposed to be getting married soon and then your wrestling picks up. I saw your match on YouTube and it’s already at like a hundred thousand views. That’s a fuckin’ big deal, ya know? Not to mention you’re spending time with that steaming hot Jey guy that just might end up being your co-worker. And from all the buzz you’re getting, it’s only gonna be a matter of time before that happens. That’s gotta make Andre uncomfortable.”

She didn’t know her match had made it onto YouTube, but she would get back to that later. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am. And I’m happy for you. This town is boring as fuck. Someone needs to get outta this dump and do something interesting with their lives.” Tiwa took a swig of her Mountain Dew. “So back to you and this Jey dude. He seems to be giving you a lot of attention.”

“Y’all making it sound like me and him are seeing each other every day or somethin’,” said Delilah, her tone a little gruffer than she wanted. “That ain’t the case. Jey’s been like a second coach, like Tank. I want to make it to the big time, and if Jey can help me get there, I’ll take it.”

“You sure he hasn’t hinted at something more? Like, you know…”

Delilah shook her head. “Nope. We only talk about wrestling, that’s it. He’s been very professional.”

“Or he’s just waiting to get you alone,” Tiwa cut in. “Maybe that’s why he invited you to Panama City.”

“He invited both Dre and me. I won’t be alone. Tank’s coming along with me since Dre can’t make it.” She wasn’t sure what Tiwa was trying to insinuate, and though she didn’t like it, she tried not to show it. “Girl you trippin’. Relax. I’m getting married to the man I love. Jey’s already married, I think.”

“You think?” Tiwa repeated, and only then did it dawn on Delilah that she’d never seen a ring on his finger. Still… “He knows better and so do I. I got only one goal in mind, and that’s all I care about.” It had been two weeks since her first match, and she was just getting started with building a reputation for herself within the independent circuit. She was working hard and earning every bit of respect she was gaining, and she really didn’t want to throw all of that away.

“Okay,” said Tiwa. “I’m just looking out for you, girl. Do you, and make sure you’re happy while you’re doing it.”

“I know.” Delilah smiled and looked at her watch. Their break was almost over. “You coulda come with me to Panama City too, ya know.”

“Ha, if I do, who’s gonna cover your shift?” Tiwa said, getting to her feet. “Besides…I got a date on Monday night.”

“Oh. So you’ve finally gotten over your crush on Tank, then?” Delilah smirked as they walked back into the supermarket.

Tiwa gasped and avoided her friend’s teasing stare. “How many times am I gonna tell you, Parrish, it ain’t like that with Tank! It never was.”

“And yet, you’re blushing.”

“…..Bitch, bye.”

—------------------

From her place on the ring apron, Delilah watched in complete awe as Liv Morgan and Becky Lynch practiced in the ring for their match, still a good three hours before Monday Night Raw was set to air. The women were opening the show tonight, and she was very excited to see how it all played out. But watching them rehearse was so much better than anything she could have imagined.

The only thing that would have made her day better was Andre being with her. Of course, they had argued about the trip, in which Tank had tried to step in. He was being completely asinine and paranoid. She would never have stopped him if he had the chance to meet LeBron James or Patrick Mahomes, his favorite athletes. This was a once in a lifetime chance for her, and she really couldn’t understand why he was taking all of this so poorly.

“Now that’s a finisher right there,” Tank interrupted her thoughts as Liv Morgan hit Becky backwards in her signature Oblivion to get the pinfall.

Delilah turned back to look up at the huge Titantron as Liv’s theme song rang out in victory. “This is so cool,” she whispered. How amazing would it be to see her own name in lights that bright?

“Ayyy, look who showed up, uce,” a familiar deep voice sounded from the shadows behind her, and she looked over to see Josh making his way down the ramp. 

Without thinking through it, she rushed towards him and leapt into his arms. “This is so amazing! Thank you so much, oh my god,” she squealed happily, not caring if she sounded like a total fan girl at the moment. Never did she imagine she could ever experience all she had since coming down to Panama City; the backstage access, getting to meet the amazing wrestlers she watched on TV every single week; it was sensory overload for her as a fan.

Josh laughed as her legs tightened around him, supporting the woman in his arms with her round backside in his hands. “You welcome, baby girl. You enjoyin’ yourself?”

It was then, as he set her back on her feet, that Delilah noticed how good he looked in his Nike tech fleece outfit. At the same time, Tank appeared from the corner of her eye, and she quickly took a step back from Josh. “Yes! Everyone’s been so nice. The wrestlers, the officials, it’s been awesome.”

“Good to hear. Wanna go talk to the girls?” Without waiting for an answer, Josh grabbed her by the hand and tugged her toward the ring where Becky and Liv now sat on the apron. They looked over at the approaching trio and waved. “Hey, Jey, hey Tank,” greeted Liv, her eyes skating over Delilah’s form. “Wanna introduce us to your friend?”

Sneaking behind her, Josh shoved the shy woman closer to his colleagues. “This is Delilah Parrish. She’s an indie wrestler in the Pensacola region,” he introduced.

“Oh, fellow hometown girl, huh?” Becky’s friendly nature was infectious as she extended a hand toward the new woman. “Nice to meet you, Delilah. I’m Becky.”

“Delilah. Like Samson, right?” Liv inquired. When Delilah nodded, her smile widened. “Such a cute name. I like it. You stickin’ around for the show tonight?”

“Yeah.” Delilah muttered shyly. It was the exact same tone she had taken with pretty much everyone she had met so far. It was all so overwhelming, she felt like she was in a dream.

“Ay Livvy Liv, you busy?” Josh asked. When she shook her head, he nodded toward Delilah. “How ‘bout you show our guest here how it’s done in the big leagues?”

Liv set her towel aside with a shrug. “Sure, why not?” she answered, turning her gaze to Delilah. “You up for it?”

Shocked, the trainee looked back and forth between them. “Wait, you want me to wrestle her? Right now?” 

“Now’s as good a time as any,” Josh shrugged, raising an eyebrow. “Unless you think you can’t do it.”

Offended, her eyes darkened right away. “Hell yeah, I can do it.”

He stepped closer to her, staring her right down, “Then show me,” he whispered.

Liv leapt back into the ring and backed up, beckoning for Delilah to join her. “Come on, show me what’cha got,” she challenged.

Before she knew what was happening, Delilah was locking up with Liv freaking Morgan in the middle of the ring, listening for her rushed verbal cues as they sparred like old partners. So immersed was she in the match they were constructing, Delilah didn’t notice that Josh and Tank had been joined by a few other men.

“Who’s the girl?”

Turning his head slightly, Josh took his boss’s hand in a handshake and then returned his attention to the action in the ring. “She’s one of Tank’s,” the Samoan spoke of the trainer who was now shouting instructions to his pupil from outside the ring, while Becky cheered on Liv on the other side.

Triple H watched with a critical eye as the new woman launched herself off of the ropes and knocked Liv to the mat with an impressive, albeit stiff clothesline. “She’s unpolished,” he deduced.

Josh shrugged. “She’ll get better,” he assured the older man. “Her very first match was just two weeks ago and she killed that shit, man. Two hundred thousand views on YouTube already,” he added, a hint of admiration creeping into his voice.

“I see.” The multi-time World Champion nodded his head, his gaze still fixed on the story the women were trying to tell in the ring.

As Liv wedged her horizontally between the ropes by the turnbuckle, Delilah glanced to her left, her heart nearly jumping into her throat when she saw Triple H of all people, watching intently a few feet away, as though waiting for her to do something special. She was so distracted that she didn’t hear Liv’s reminder to brace herself for the impact of her double-knee attack. Liv’s knees and shins colliding with her sternum knocked the air right out of her, causing her to collapse hard in the corner, limbs twisting everywhere as she hit the canvas.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” Liv screeched, as Delilah rolled to her side and slowly made her way to her knees with a moan. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It was my fault,” she puffed, taking the other woman’s extended hand to pull her up.

“Yeah, Triple H has that kind of effect,” Liv said, winking at her. “I was the exact same way the first time I saw him.”

Risking another glance at the base of the ramp, Delilah breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that Hunter had left them alone, but dread quickly filled her insides as she wondered what he’d thought of her performance.

“What the hell was that?” Josh’s laughing voice interrupted the ladies’ conversation. Delilah blushed wildly and ducked under the bottom rope. “I panicked,” she admitted softly. “So tell me the truth,” she said. “How bad did I fuck up my only chance to impress that man?”

Josh helped her out of the ring and set her down on her feet. “You tried. Let’s just leave it at that.” Her nervous expression caused him to wrap an arm around her waist for a quick hug. “But ay, you went for it, and Hunter appreciates that,” he whispered.

The feel of his breath on her ear sent shivers down Delilah’s spine. She shook it off quickly, deciding that she was still being a fangirl, that it was just his breathtaking presence that still affected her. She would have felt the exact same way if it had been Andre holding her like this.

Mistaking her inner turmoil for something else, Tank nudged her from her other side. “You did good, kid. I could tell Hunter liked it,” he said.

The uncharacteristic compliment from her usually no-nonsense teacher caused Delilah to blush, but before she could respond, a stage hand called for Tank to follow him up the ramp, leaving her all alone with Josh. She felt very self-conscious as she walked next to him towards the backstage area.

Somewhere along the way, Josh had invaded Delilah’s thoughts and fantasies on more than a few occasions. Never, since getting with Andre, had she ever thought about another man while making love to her fiancé, until lately. She wanted to blame it on seeing him every week on TV, recalling his deep, seductive voice on the phone, all of which left her imagining things she never dreamed of. Yeah, he seemed to be a bit touchy feely, but he had never made an outright pass at her, and had done nothing beyond a few flirty words and gestures. Maybe she was overthinking it too much and just needed to relax.

Josh looked down at her, trying not to stare into her tank top from his considerable vantage point. She was engaged to be married, but he couldn’t seem able to tell himself that it meant she was off limits. He was drawn to how unaware she was of her beauty and her sexiness, and it made her that much more attractive in his eyes. “You quiet. What’s on your mind?” he asked her, forcing himself out of his wayward thoughts.

Delilah followed him into a huge locker room. “Just thinkin’ about how surreal all of this is. It’s one thing to see it on TV. It’s a whole ‘nother thing to see it all up close…” she trailed off, shaking her head in awe.

Grabbing two bottles of water, Josh directed her to a table and sat across from her, opening her bottle before sliding it to her. “Yeah. Wait until you become an actual employee.”

Scoffing, she drank from the bottle and leaned back in her chair. “Right. Like that’s gonna happen.”

“What makes you think that?”

With a sigh, she looked around the empty room. “I don’t know. For all intents and purposes, I’m still a rookie,” she reasoned. “I got so much more to learn. I don’t even look like the typical WWE Superstar. My hair’s too damn big and curly. I haven’t put on enough muscle yet.” Casting a glance over her own body, she sighed again. “And I’m gonna need implants, which I definitely can’t afford,” she added.

Josh looked her over, zeroing in on her chest. After seeing her in her wrestling outfit a couple of weeks ago, he was convinced there was nothing wrong with her hot body. “You don’t need no implants,” he assured her.

Shock washed over Delilah at his blatant assessment. “Okay, um, so where else are we going after this?” she asked nervously, hoping to break the suffocating tension building between them.

“Whatchu doin’, Delilah?” Josh ignored her question, watching her brush her hair out of her face for the hundredth time, the glint of the rock on her engagement ring seemingly taunting him every time she did so. “What exactly are you puttin’ in all the hours training and wrestling for? To achieve your dream? Or to get away from your fiancé?”

Recoiling a little, Delilah narrowed her eyes at what he had asked. Why was he being so intrusive? “Dude…” she stammered, her defenses going right up. "I’m not…I’m not sure how that’s any of your business.”

“Baby girl, this business is everything to me,” Josh said to her, his tone strangely serious. “It’s my whole life. And I get a kick out of seeing other people who love it too and get immersed in it for all the right reasons.” Shaking his head, he crossed his massive arms over his broad chest. “I need to know which side you’re on, so I’ll know whether I’m wasting my time with you or not.”

“Wasting your time? What the fuck…I never asked for your attention, Josh!” she shot defensively, staggered by this sudden change to their conversation. "To be honest, I don’t even know why you are showing any interest in me.” Behind her, she heard the door open, and she forced herself to lower her voice, even though she was seething at his audacity. “Maybe I should ask you. What’s in this for you, huh? Why me? There are a million other new wrestlers that you could be focusing on.“

Shrugging a shoulder in agreement, Josh leaned back in his chair and let his dark gaze scan her from head to toe. "Maybe,” he conceded, a smirk playing on his lips. “But it’s not them I wanna fuck.”

The words struck her like a blow to the gut. Did she hear him right? Was he suggesting that he wanted to sleep with her? That he was as attracted to her as she was to him? Did he fantasize about her too? Did he forget she was engaged? Wasn’t he married? How could he make such an open confession?

Before she could say something, the room began to fill up with members of the Raw roster, Josh stood up and gestured for her to do the same. “Come on. Let’s go find Tank,”  he said to her.

--------------

Thoughts?

🏷️: @jxtina-86 @wrestlingprincess80 @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @alyyaanna @squishyguishy @jstarr86 @murrylove @thewarlordsworld @mzv11 @cozyaliensuperstar7 @nayys-world @hunnidmilly @cyberdejos2 @papireigns-05 @niknakbucks92 @captainwithoutmakingitlove @sovereigngoth @aisharmi @kennedi0818 @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @herwickedlittlesins @questionable-behaviour @tribalchiefreigns @2-muchsauce @thatbxtchsblog @raya-hunter01 @marchi36753 @lovelysuccess @christinabae @wooahmiri @thatonecarebear @tabletheofhead @rheaanddamianfan @vebner37 @hanley1577 @princessesareforsuckers @-naturally @joannasteez @bbygirlky18 @lilucey @theninthwonder @melaninsugababy @chocovibesonly @msbluehaz3 @scarlettnoir01 @heerah34 @empressdede @tbmotw @darkangelchronicles @visionarymode @marasdeathnote @aintnorainbows @meggylynnloves @shantinextdoor @harlemblipster @trc-punzel @afterdarkprincess @nbanenefrmdao @sassginaswanmills @purplehairgawdess @holisticcoach @girlwhogaf @royalkay23 @heyitsnajabrinee @stoner2k @reci1996 @catxo @iamimanim @lookmais @ts1mp0ne @shonny09 @lizzyd1ish @m3llowww @skyesthebomb @final1miya @mzv11 @kia1996 @randomuser0711 @yourtribalqueen @caramelcleopatraa @katymae12344 @that-one-anxious-mango @yana3sworld @ajenae @truefant4sy @thetribalqueen @bhjszsdxc @paigereeder @christinabae @justazzi @maknaehyucks @mindairy @headoftheetable @paigereeder

[whumpsoda]

I bet roommate Malak isn’t as enthralled at first cause yk, Adrastus needs him to keep up appearances for awhile to not cast suspicion on themself.

But imagine Malak comes home and Adrastus gets one of those adult cool decorate mobiles that move constantly as a sort of chandelier esq thing and Malak just slowly goes under the more he looks at it, but it’s agonizingly slow.

Just?? Adrastus enjoying the subtle protests of Malak’s psyche

WOHEO Masterlist “I’m home!” Malak announced, as always, keys jingling as he yanked them out from the lock of the front door. Adrastus focused in on the shuffles of his feet kicking off his boots, tuning out the television they’d flicked on as soon as they’d heard him arrive home.

“I’m right here, darling!” They called back, preparing to project just the right hypnotic spiral to the screen and capture their soon to be thrall’s full, drowsy attention. “Come right over to the couch, okay, dear? I have to show you something you’re just going to adore!”

They swiped through until they found their favorite, a bright, bubbling pink that always had Malak’s mind dozing through clouds of vibrant cotton candy any time he saw it. “Malak, c’mere please!”

Realizing the room was fully silent, save for the buzz of the television, their heart dropped. It was almost as if Malak wasn’t there at all. They nearly made the effort to turn around, but-

All of Malak’s belongings slammed to the floor, a sharp thud that had Adrastus recoiling. They thought they’d find him on the floor - their mind going to the worst possible outcome - but instead he was-

Adrastus melted into a thick puddle of delight, surprise boiling down into joy in an instant.

They’d completely forgotten about the newest ceiling fixture they’d installed, a spiral looking thing that twirled in a seemingly never ending loop. Malak’s jaw was falling slack, his shoulders a drooping mass as he stared with unbroken focus and awe, completely enraptured by it.

They had hoped that would be the case, and the sight of it had them wanting to hug and squeeze him as hard as they could. Jumping to their feet, they made a quick stride to do just that.

“Malak?” No answer, just as they had suspected. He was much too overcome by a trance to even hear them. “Oh, baby, aren’t you so cute.” They grabbed him by the cheeks, pulling him to face them.

Malak blinked. “Ad…?” He mumbled, brows furrowed in sleepy puzzlement.

Giggling, they smooshed his cheeks in and out. “That would be master to you, baby. Isn’t that right?”

He nuzzled into their touch, warmth and docility seeping from their flesh. Slightly he nodded, a smile creeping onto his face. “Uh huh… master…”

Guiding him to the couch, Adrastus snaked their hands from his face to his fingers, rubbing in circular motions that only worked to put him further under.

Almost he sat to the couch, before they were able to stop him. “Uh uh, honey. Couches are for masters, not sillies like you. Sit here.” Gently they had him slump to the floor before their legs, already scratching through his hair.

“S- sor… y…” trailing off as his gaze caught on the screen, Malak sighed into mellow tranquility that he would remain in for the remainder of the night with his master.

Taglist- @softvampirewhump @iys-cloud @battyfantasy @xx-adam-xx @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @mis-graves @3-2-whump @whump-till-ya-jump

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

[fishiefishieluvr]

hiya! this is my first contribution to the fandom… i used inspiration from the song daddy was a sailor by marina diamandis. if you wanna give it a listen, here is a link! i recommend listening during the read! the reader’s backstory is entirely based off this song… well. at least waaaayyyy in the past.

i used myself a bit for inspiration because i have a sea creature tattoo t_t

there’s no warnings aside from slight angst and mentions of brief injuries. rafayel continues being a shithead in the fic… i wanted to depict his lemurian form accurately so i tried to utilize good interpretations of mermen and mermaids lmao. this is just a mere interpretation of what could’ve happened! afab reader so she/her pronouns!

word count: 2.3k

🪸

would she, could she, be home when the stars came out to party?

His fuschia gaze darts to her petite, bony shoulders. Wearing a t-shirt in 90 degree weather… What is wrong with this woman… And thus, he feels compelled to point it out. Rafayel was never one to bite his tongue. He’ll state what needs to be said, regardless of what it pertains to.

“Aren’t you brave, huh? Wearing a t-shirt, risking the idea of getting a farmer’s tan…” He clicks his tongue and smirks as he sees the glare etched into her eyes.

Y/N playfully sticks her tongue out, rolling her eyes. Her fingers tug at the hem of her thin shirt, yanking it off of her form. A tight charcoal hued bikini hugs her features.

Almost immediately, Rafayel’s gaze flitters over the curvature of her waist — right over the tattooed flesh. His jaw goes slack when he sees precisely what it is. A seahorse, an inadequately drawn one, at that.

His head pangs as his jaw is clenched tightly. As much as he wants to desperately think that now is not the time to reminisce, the memory still is etched into his mind.

🐠

The morning rays of sun were tortuous on Rafayel’s scales, drying out the cool flickers of fuschia pink and turquoise blue. Webbed hands curled around the sand, wincing as the burning sand sizzled into his scaled skin. His gaze travels down, eyes widening as he peers at the new burn wounds. Rafayel doesn’t want to call out for help, as his heartbeat is pounding in his ears at the mere idea of entrusting a human to help him return to the seas.

But it’s futile. The Lumerian boy will certainly perish if his wounds persist without aid.

So, he swallows his pride. His jaw is clenched tightly, the pang of his wounds and dried out scales aches throughout his entire body.

“Heeeeh…” Rafayel shakes his head. God, that was a pathetic sound, his voice cracking as he called out hoarsely. “Help, please..” It’s a quiet plea, hardly even audible.

His vision is fading in and out, only seeing the blurriness of the sand and the sunlight shimmering down onto the beach. The Lemurian boy hardly even notices the approaching silhouette.

“Oh my goodness! Are you a-alright?” It’s a feminine voice. He can hardly even see straight, but he feels the sensation of… Softness beneath him. A guttural groan slips past his cracked lips.

Rafayel hears the noises of shuffling, then nails… Tapping along something metallic? Before he even knows it, the cool metal is brought to his lips, water spilling down his throat. It feels… Peculiar, this isn’t the same water of the sea. The lack of saltiness sends a shiver down his spine. Then, the freezing water hits his tail and abdomen. He harshly flinches and winces.

That’s when his vision returns to normal, his head cradling upwards. His fuschia and sea blue eyes widened. It’s… A human. Not like any of the other humans he’s seen. Her shimmering (hair color) hair shines beautifully underneath the morning sun, lips parted revealing the loss of her front tooth. She has to be around his age, young… No older than 11 years of age. And, that’s not even the worst part… His head is cradled upon her thighs.

The Lemurian boy sharply pries himself away, stumbling back as his tail flips around with the movement. Humans aren’t to be trusted, not after the torture they thrusted upon Lemurians. He’s heard all different types of horror stories from his people…

He holds up his injured webbed hand, his claws out and ready if needed. “Get… Away from me. You’re a human. I won’t accept your help. Your kind slaughters my people mercilessly. How am I to expect you to be any different?”

The girl’s eyes widen, her features shifting into an expression of brief panic. Her hands wildly flail in the air. “I-I don’t want to hurt you! I.. Need to wrap that, uh… Hand of yours. You have to trust me. Please, I’ll do anything for you to believe me..” Her shoulders sink, a frown creasing upon her lips.

Rafayel’s eyes narrowed into slits. As much as he wants to believe her… The things he’s heard echoes throughout his mind. He shakes his head, his lilac tresses slightly swaying. “Swear it.” It comes out as a hiss, face contorting into one of firm seriousness.

“I swear on everything I love. Now..” She shifts forward, rummaging through her bag, pulling out some wraps of gauze. “Let me see that, uhhh..” Her gaze lingers down. Can these… Be considered hands? Webbed fingers and all?

He rolls his eyes, letting out a pfft. “You humans are so stupid. Lemurians have hands too. Don’t be dumb.”

The girl lingers forward, delicately taking his hand within her own. Despite being the same age, his hands… Are larger than hers. “Lemurian?” Her head tilts to the side. “I…. Thought you were a merman.”

Rafayel feigns offense, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he lets out a gasp. “The audacity of this girl. We are, very much, different from mermaids and mermen.” He lets out a contented sigh as the gauze wraps around his palm.

Her expression shifts into one of… Guilt? Shame? He can’t quite put a word on it. “S-sorry… Good, your hand is all wrapped up.” She clasped her hand over it briefly, Rafayel’s heart skipping a beat at the intimacy of it. “I dunno much about Lemurians. But my mama is a mermaid. Well… Turned into one.” She shakes her thoughts away. “Anyways! I should probably introduce myself. I’m Y/N.”

“Rafayel. And do tell me more about this… Mermaid mother of yours.” His eyebrows are knitted together in curiosity. This all sounds so incredibly… Unreal. There’s no way her mother is a mermaid, right?

She bites down on her bottom lip, contemplating on explaining. Y/N’s gaze seems to blossom into one of pain. “My grandma said she died, but my aunt — who took me in… She said she turned into a mermaid when she got really sick. I don’t know what to believe, but I don’t think my aunt would lie to me. I like to think my dad is searching the seas for her, and that explains why he’s away all the time on a ship.”

Rafayel’s heart clenches in his chest. He knows the truth, but he can’t bring himself to hurt her further. Even if they had just met mere minutes ago. He’s not exactly the type of Lemurian to crush someone’s fantasy that helps them sleep at night. “I haven’t seen her down near where I live. I mean… That’s assuming she looks anything like you, like I’d imagine.”

Y/N’s eyes soften, her cheeks tugged into a grin. “I’m sure she’s off being mysterious somewhere in the deep ocean. And yeah, I’ve been told that I look like her.” Her hands retreat downwards further into her lap, her gaze lingering on the glistening scales adorning his tail.

He notices this, playfully rolling his eyes. He might as well lighten the mood. Well, at least attempt to. “Wanna draw a picture of me while you’re at it? I can guarantee you I’ll outdo you in that regard. My mother taught me the refined arts at a young age.” Rafayel smirks, revealing his pearly white teeth.

Her face flushes red in humiliation. Immediately, she breaks her gaze away from him. This seems to make Rafayel pout a bit in disappointment. “I-I’m sorry… Are, uhmm, all Lemurians artistic? I wanna know more about you and your people..”

Rafayel shifts, gnawing at his inner cheek. He’s having an internal debate with himself. As much as he’d typically deny it, he desperately wants to feel her skin brushing along his scales. “Most of us, yes. I happen to be exceptionally gifted of my kind, though. A prodigy, if you will.” He acts on his better judgement, his webbed hand gently wrapping around her palm. “C’mon… I know you’re curious. I’ll play nice and indulge, I won't bite… Hard.”

“R-Rafayel!” She squeaks as he brings her fingertips to his scales. Her mouth is hung open, the pads of her fingers brushing along the scales. They’re softer than she expected… Almost silk-like, smooth to its very essence. “So you’re an artist…? I always wished I was creative like that.”

Rafayel lets his head fall back, a pleased hum vibrating in his throat as her fingers caress his scales. “All of us are talented in our own, unique and independent ways. I happen to be very talented at art. My mother taught me at a young age. I scavenge for stuff for my paints at the bottom of the sea. I’ll have to show you sometime.”

Y/N’s heart swells within her chest at this, giddy at the thought of seeing his art firsthand. “I’d be honored, Rafayel. I’d love to learn how to properly draw. I’ll be pretty lousy at first… I think I wanna draw my favorite sea animal..”

He quirks up a brow, feeling her soft, tiny hands still graze along his tail. “What’s your favorite sea animal, then?” Rafayel’s head tilts to the side, his interest piqued.

She hesitates for a moment. Her hand freezes its movements on his tail. “Seahorse. I just think they’re cute… And it’s especially adorable how the male seahorses carry the babies. I like…” Her cheeks are tinted an adorable pink hue, and this only makes Rafayel’s heartbeat quicken. “I like how they mate for life. I’ve always been a sucker for true love.”

Rafayel feels… Scorching hot. And it’s not because of the sweltering, morning sun. He shakes his head as the air runs through his lilac tresses. “Alright, you’ve had your curiosity with me. Now is my time.” Rafayel states. It’s not like he’s entirely unaware, he’s seen many humans before… But he’s taking this as an opportunity. The lavender haired Lemurian gently peels her hand away, raising her fingertips to brush along his cheek briefly. The sensation of her touch running along his scales is almost too intoxicating. Rafayel allows her fingers to brush over his lips. His breath tickles her skin as a contented sigh slips past his lips.

“I’ll show you a seahorse in person. You can come, see my homeland for yourself. We’ll find a pair of mates, and you’ll be mesmerized not only by the beauty of where I live, but by my dashing good looks also.” He murmurs against her skin, noticing the slight tremor in her hands. “And I’ll teach you to paint, to create, with these small, pathetic human hands of yours.” Rafayel playfully snickers.

Her eyes narrow and she flicks him on the cheek, which causes him to whimper. “You ruined the moment. Are all Lemurians this rude?” Y/N mocks him, grinning widely at him.

Rafayel doesn’t seem to be too impressed with that, crossing his arms over his chest. “Only when an irritatingly kind human stumbles across them.”

“Y/N! Where are you, my dear? Have you gone to secure some seashells?” The sound of an old lady’s voice calling out causes Y/N to harshly flinch. She scrambles back, her hand reaching for her leather backpack.

Her eyes are wide and she wraps her arms around Rafayel’s neck. “I have to go. And you should too. My grandmother can’t see us, can’t see you. I’ll be back at dawn this time tomorrow. I hope you get home safely…” A warm, tender smile crosses her lips.

Rafayel’s hand reaches upwards, his clawed fingers scratching against her scalp. Her hair is so delicately soft.. He wonders if it’ll maintain its softness under the sea. “You better make it tomorrow. I’m looking forward to that, y’know?” As she pulls away, her feet wobble into the sand. Y/N brings her index and middle fingers to her lips, kissing them and holding her fingers in the air as she pulls away.

And with that, she grins toothily, giving him one final glance before she darts off. Rafayel’s heart sinks in his chest slightly at her farewell. He yearns for her fingers to instead be his, to feel the sensation of her lips on his scaled flesh. His body staggers slightly as he retreats into the sea, his tail flailing in the air.

As he swims away, gliding through the bright water, he grins. Rafayel has decided — when he arrives home, he’ll paint a small portrait of the image of her in his quarters back home. His heart races in his chest as he wonders precisely what tomorrow will entail.

The same heart that has already set its sights on her. She will forever be etched into his memory, his heart belonging to her the moment her gentle hands caressed his scaled skin. And just like her beloved seahorses, he plans to do precisely the same. After all, who isn’t fond of a story of true love? It always prevails until the very end.

🌊

“Are you going to catch up, Raf? The water is going to be cold by the time we get there!” Her voice shouting out is enough to bring him back to reality. Y/N turns, flashing him a grin, and it’s exactly the same as the one he had once seen before. Except, obviously, this time all her teeth are intact. Adult ones, at least.

Rafayel snorts, jogging behind her. “Last one to the ocean is a shriveled shrimp!” His hand reaches over, fingertips gliding over her inked flesh. “Maybe we’ll find a seahorse in the water?” His brow quirks up, yanking her gingerly into his bare chest.

Y/N gasps, looking up at him with widened eyes. “If only! I always loved them.”

I know you have, cutie. Rafayel thinks to himself, his lips tugged into a wide grin.

[dreamyautumns]

TreyMal fanfic for my boyfriend💚🖤

Crack!

Trey turns around. The basket in his arms creaks a bit as he searches for the source of the mysterious noise.

“Did I just imagine that…?”

Trey goes back to walking down the path to Riddle’s house, when he suddenly hear’s something again. This time, it sounds like a low growl.

Something’s definitely in this forest…

Trey pulls out the magic pen from his pocket and looks around, wondering what the source of the noise could be.

“Hello, human…”

Trey finally decides to look up. He’s suddenly caught trapped within the gaze of jewel green eyes. A dark shadow casts over the land as he realizes what it is.

Oh damnit… it’s a dragon!

~

It’s hard for Trey to become particularly frightened since he’s so calm. But being face to face with a gigantic dragon, who he assumes is around 50 feet tall, was highly unsettling. Trey slips the pen back in his pocket and backs away, holding his hands up.

“L-listen, sir… I don’t want any trouble. Honest. I’m just delivering goods to my friend who lives in the village through the woods…”

The dragon dips its head down to meet Trey’s golden, amber eyes. Smoke pours out of its nostrils as it inspects the basket, flicking it’s tail back and forth. Trey holds his ground, but it’s hard for him to resist the urge to drop his basket and run.

“You… are a baker? I can smell sweets,” the dragon rumbles.

“Uh… y-yeah! Yeah, I’m a baker. I live with my family in town? We got a whole bunch of sweets there,” Trey answers. “Did you… wanna try one?”

The dragon pulls back before tilting its head. “Hmm… they do smell rather delectable. Alright, then. Indulge me with your “sweets”, human…”

The dragon suddenly glows bright green. Trey’s eyes are blinded as he feels the cold, ominous shadow fall back a bit. When the light fades, he looks up to see the dragon no longer there.

“Huh?”

In the dragon’s place now stands a man who towers over the forest. His skin is pale, and his horns glisten in the light. His eyes remain as bright and peridot green as ever, and his fingernails are painted black. Trey assumes it must be to match his claws. The man seems no older than Trey by a year.

“Fufufu… are you startled by my appearance?” The dragon asks. Trey rubs the back of his head awkwardly.

“I mean… can’t say I was particularly keen on knowing you were also a giant human…”

“Correction; I am a giant fairy. I am half dragon, half fairy. My name is Malleus Draconia.”

“Malleus Draconia…” Trey repeats. “Quite the strong sounding name you got. I’m Trey Clover. Nice to meet you…?”

Malleus exhales, a puff of smoke surrounding the baker. Trey coughs a bit as his glasses are fogged up. “The pleasure is mine, Clover. Now, I’d like to try one of your sweets, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Trey nods, pulling out a small loaf of bread he packed for extra measure. Malleus takes it and swallows it as if it were no more than a mere crumb.

“So, was it t-to your liking?” Trey asks nervously.

“It was quite delicious… you make these goods yourself?” Malleus asks, shuffling. His movements cause a slight tremor to run through the ground. Trey holds himself against a tree to stabilize himself.

“Yes, m-me and my family make them.”

Malleus turns and dips his head down, looking at Trey at eye level. The dragon fae smiles in a teasing manner before blowing another puff of smoke at him. Trey coughs once again and wipes his glasses off.

“How lovely~ you’re quite the charming human.”

“Charming?” Trey chuckles awkwardly. “I’ve never really been described as “charming”, to be honest.”

Malleus chuckles again, his laugh rattling the trees. “You’re quite funny. I think I wish to keep you.”

“Huh? Keep me?” Trey asked. “Malleus, what do you-“

Before he can even get a word out, the giant scoops him up in the palm of his hand and levitates off the ground, smiling at the boy in his hands. Trey holds onto Malleus’ fingers and looks down in a state of worry.

“U-uh, Malleus?! Where are you taking me?!”

“You’re coming home with me, only for a little bit. You fascinate me. Do keep me entertained, human~”

[rebornologist]

Hello babe! I love you so so much and your fungus + fish pictures ;)) Can't wait to see you again and go crazy for girlie night kekekeke 🤪 Anyway time to indulge in my toxic trait 👁👄👁 Can I have an imagine for 🔧 where he has a fight with their s.o. over him always working and never making time/canceling last minute on date nights 😭but you know instead of the typically they both say some hurtful shit and cool off and apologize and makeup, I WANT IT DRAMATIC, MY TOXIC TRAIT! I WANT S.O. TO LEAVE WITHOUT A WORD LIKE 🔧 SAYS SOME SHIT LIKE I ENJOY WORKING THAN GOING ON THESE STUPID DATES AND LEAVES TO HIS WORKSHOP AND S.O. IS JUST SHOCKED PACK THEIR BAGS AND LEAVES NO NOTE NO NOTHING. eh you can decide to end it however you want whether he finds s.o. and makeup or he ain't see them ever again 🤡 love you bby gurl my best stem major girlie 💓 💗 💖 💕 😘

hiii baefie ♡♡ I didn't adhere completely to the prompt and ngl I just lost steam at the few hundred words pt, but I hope this is some juicy drama for you :') xx

♡ SPANNER/READER silly date night drama˚₊⁺˳✧ warnings: ngl reader just stonewalls him, I don't condone this behaviour count: 1035 words

༚✧⁺˳₊˚‿︵‿︵‿୨୧ · ˳ · ♡ · ˳ · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿˚₊˳⁺✧༚

It wouldn’t happen again.

You told yourself that you wouldn’t let it happen again, and he promised you the same.

So you sit there, scrolling on your phone, checking your texts with him, wondering why it seemed to be happening again.

‘bb?’ you shoot him a message, chewing on your bottom lip as you try to suppress your dreadful thoughts. He doesn’t even read the message for a while, and you spend a few minutes fixing up your jewelry and makeup before nervously checking the phone again. Nothing.

You decide to call him.

He doesn’t pick up, and that’s when you feel that familiar frustration light up inside of you, like a match was struck.

Your phone pings with a new text.

‘srry working.’

You scoff when you read it, and call again.

“Hey, babe—” he mumbles, speaking with the same lazy tone and muffled by the lollipop in his mouth. He’s working.

“Hi, how much longer are you working for?” You nearly spit out, trying and failing to put a cap on your mounting annoyance.

He doesn’t reply for a moment, and you just hear rustling as he puts his phone on speaker and sets it down to return to the task at hand. You raise an eyebrow, and he finally clears his throat.

“I’ll be in the shop overnight, one of the—”

“So no date night??” At this point, you’re unable to mask the disappointment in your voice.

More rustling and shuffling sounds, the quiet clang of metal against metal. “Huh..? Oh, tonight? I can’t.”

Your response was delayed as well, but for other reasons. You look at the little gift that you had so thoughtfully put together for him. You weren’t sure how it happened, but next thing you know, there were warm tears streaming down your face, as your mind swirled with thoughts of him having the audacity to sound like he was brushing you aside yet again. And you were probably screaming, but your ears felt clogged and he sounded even more muffled over the phone.

“You never can! Maybe you might as well build a robot partner for yourself, because you clearly cannot respect the needs of a human one!”

“[Y/n], when did I ever.. say anything about dis..respecting you?” he groans, biting down on the stick between his teeth.

“You don’t respect my time, Spanner! Over and over again, you keep canceling on me, completely abandoning our plans, leaving me waiting. I don’t want all of our time spent together to be in your musty workshop. We’ve been wanting to go out for so long!”

That seemed to strike a nerve with him. He whips his head over to face his phone this time, quickly pulling the lollipop out and clearing his throat.

“Maybe I enjoy spending my time in my fucking workshop?!”

He’s met with silence. You swallow your sobs quietly, and end the call.

He goes back to work, but not before quickly sending you a text: ‘will talk to yuo tmrw’.

He does not get to talk to you tomorrow. You decide it yourself. You pack your essentials, realizing that you don’t even want to be here when he comes back to your shared living space. You pull up to Colonello and Lal’s place, spending the weekend in their guest room and talking through some of your feelings with them over take out and a bottle of wine.

When Spanner returns the next day to find all of your key belongings missing, he completely just bluescreens and his brain is scrambled. He sends a string of confused texts, calls a few times, gets left on delivered and sent to voicemail, and finally he reaches out to ask Irie what the fuck happened. He panics for a solid day, checking his phone every few hours, turning over pillows for any hidden notes, biting every lollipop stick down to just pulpy paper sludge before spitting it out bitterly.

What makes it worse is that he finds the wrapped gift on the dining table, the one thing that slipped your mind when you left. You also left your key behind; it may have also just slipped your mind, but it signaled to him that you did not intend to return.

Now, depending on whether and how you decide to get him back in the loop of what you were thinking, feeling, and doing, the situation could resolve itself fairly amicably or very unfortunately.

If you contact him later on, explaining yourself and actually discussing why you felt the need to up and leave, he would.. do his best to understand, and express that he would rather you not do that again and leave him in the dark like that, but the experience might actually light a fire under his ass to commit to the time he promises to spend with you. Unfortunately, I think that also means that he makes less date plans with you just so he can be realistic about fulfilling them, especially when it’s crunch time for him. You get your fill of quality time by spending it with him in his musty (it's really clean, actually) workshop in addition to the very sweet dates he takes you on every once in a long while.

If you just go on ghosting him, it would take him a good week to come to the conclusion that you.. don’t want to see him ever again. He opened the gift box in case there was a note from you in it, and there was. It was a really sweet little message encouraging him to cut himself some slack and take some time off for rest between working on his machines, and that you’re here for him when he needs to turn his brain off and just bask in your affection… clearly, you’re not always here for him. That note and the little gift you had included makes his head hurt every time he looks at it, so he sets it aside in a corner of his shop with the intention of leaving it untouched until you come back to him. He’s sooo avoidant rip. SpannerY/n, y’all had a good run.

fin.✧

[lifesver]

@fcused said: ❛  you have snowflakes in your hair.  ❜

she catches him looking stupid at just the opportune moment; tongue stuck out trying to catch snowflakes on his tongue. at the sound of her voice, leland snaps his head around in an instant, visibly startled;

❝ oh — hey con! ❞ crooked smile beamed in connie's direction, as he jogs up to meet her. honestly, in his defense, it never snowed this much. it kind of made him feel like a little kid again, who for-sure didn't know about gpas or taxes. of course — it wasn’t a particularly arctic day, or anything, but they're both woefully underdressed for it anyway. as was most of the campus; struggling down iced paths to the classroom buildings, and spending as little time in the freezing in-between as they could.

❝ — so the fake dandruff look isn't doing it for you? ❞ his smile eases into something playful — and he promptly shakes out his snow-littered hair on her, exactly like a wet dog. connie makes a sound — somewhere between a laugh and a complaint as she dodges away from him. she keeps him at a distance with one hand planted on his chest, until he’s done.

but, as soon as her hand drops, there’s no stopping him from sweeping her up into his arms for a hug. leland hums, and gives a pointed look down at her; ❝ — actually, ❞ he begins, ❝ i don’t think you have enough snowflakes in your hair, taylor. ❞

she frowns up at him like she doesn’t understand where he's going with that. then her lips part, in realization, or horror, brows dropping down in pre-emptive incredulousness. before she can retaliate, leland ducks down, scooping her up under the knees. she squeals a protest of ' leland don't you dare— ' which is certainly not enough to stop him from tossing her into the nearest snowbank.

' jerk. ' when she emerges from the connie-shaped dent in the snow, she's tossing a loose handful of the stuff at him. leland puts up his hands half in surrender, and half to shield from the onslaught; ❝ see? very stylish.❞ he's clearly very proud of himself. but like any good gentleman, leland shuffles over and extends a hand to help her back out. for a moment, she goes to reach for it, and then a look of mischief passes in her expression.

and this time it's leland's turn to get caught mid-way through a ' oh-no-no— ' before he's being pulled off balance — and sent tumbling into the snowbank right next to her. he barely catches himself with a punctuated oof — still gets a face full of snow for his crimes. but he's too busy laughing himself breathless to mind too much.

leland shakes the frost away, again, and then reaches over to more delicately dust some out of connie's hair. now they're both cold and damp, and amusement warms his stinging cheeks; ❝ sorry,❞ he says, looking not all that sorry at all. ❝ guess we have to go change now, huh?❞

[diamondangelkitten]

Vierapril 13: Horizon

Alira holds onto the siding of the ship for dear life as the waves crash upon the boat. “I hate boats.” Alinea looks up from where she’s located at the helm attempting to draw. “Still seasick?” A murmur of assent, before the viera empties her stomach again into the ocean. Alinea grimaces. She’s taken a few boats before and has never felt sick herself, so she’s at a loss as to what to do. She decides to head down and check if Aurora has any suggestions.

As she passes by the sleeping quarters, she hears Aurora’s voice, “Annabeth, lying in here is not going to help.” “Just let me die here.” “Stop being so dramatic.” Alinea wonders if all Viera just dislike sailing, but decides now’s not the time to ask questions of the crew or Alphinaud. She enters into the sleeping bay, “Hey Annabeth, not feeling so great?” The look on Annabeth’s face would make Alinea cower, if it wasn’t for the shade of green that tinged her cheeks. Aurora sighs, “She hasn’t found her sea legs yet and she refuses to get fresh air to help.” “The same air is making its way into here isn’t it?” Alinea looks between the two of them, before interjecting, “I hate to say this, but Alira’s also still feeling ill up there. Isn’t there anything you can give them or do?”

An even deeper sigh originates from Aurora. “Is she looking at the horizon?” “What?” Aurora sighs, “Okay, Ali, hoist Annabeth from her hammock. Mind your toes and meet me up on deck.” Annabeth glares at Alinea, but she holds up her hands, “I’m just following the First Mate’s orders.” Annabeth rolls her eyes before shutting them and swings her legs over the side. “I hate boat travel.” “Yea, I do too now.”

They slowly shuffle-step their way to the deck where they see Alira slumped where Alinea had left her earlier. As they move closer to her, Alira lifts her head, “You too, huh?” Annabeth removes herself from Alinea’s grasp and falls down next to her friend. “I hate it here.” A few short moments later, Aurora emerges and heads straight for them. “Okay, here, eat this.” The two Viera look at her like she’s crawled out from the woodworks. “Look, it’s called hard tack. It’s not tasty, in the least, but it’s bland and will help settle your stomachs. At least a bit. Please won’t you try nibble on it?” She puts on her cutest puppy dog eyes and Alira and Annabeth can’t deny her. They both take a piece of the proffered hard tack and after a cautious glance between them, start to nibble. “Any better?” As they’re about to reply, a wave hits the ship, and Alira furiously shakes her head no.

Carvallain comes up behind Aurora. “Still struggling, eh? Well, Aurora, cast your eyes out, and help them remember the first rule of sailing yea?” She turns her gaze towards where her father points and a smile lights up her face. “What’s rule number one?” Alira groans. Aurora extends a hand to each of the Viera, who sigh and heave themselves up. Alinea, who’s picked up now on the lesson, goes to stand behind them and braces them, putting a hand on their shoulders. “Always keep your eye on the horizon.” Annabeth and Alira look at each other and back to the horizon as Kugane comes into view. “Oh my gosh.” Alira laughs, “that’s really it?” Aurora nods, “We’re almost there.” Annabeth pulls them into a group hug, “Well girls, almost time to be off this blasted ship and into one of their famed hot springs.” The girls laugh, before Carvallain sneaks up behind them, “Aren’t you meant to be liberating some country men or whatever? There’ll be time for relaxing later.” “Yes Papa.” He smiles as he turns back towards the helm. Aye, as long as the girls keep an eye on the horizon, on the coming dawn together, they’ll be just fine. 

[brothershardy]

If Joe was going to be honest, he'd been looking forward to finding the kitchens himself, and now that Hermione had done so, he made note to remember the doorway that led them down the brightly lid corridor decorated with pictures of food. Seeing so many house elves dressed in white togas pressed with the Hogwarts crest was rather astounding, and he was more along the lines of looking around than paying much attention.

He followed the rest when Dobby took them to Winky, who predictably burst into tears when she saw them, as if she blamed them for her plight of being a "disgraced" elf. When the tea and cookies arrived, Joe obligingly sat down and accepted a cup, as well as one of the cookies, taking a big bite.

"Delicious," he told the elves, and they beamed with pride, bowing back to him and returning to their work. At Dobby's declaration that he wanted to be paid for his work, Joe nodded. "Good on you, Dobby."

"Thank you sir!" Dobby said cheerfully. “But most wizards doesn’t want a house-elf who wants paying, sir. ‘That’s not the point of a house-elf,’ they says, and they slammed the door in Dobby’s face! Dobby likes work, but he wants to wear clothes and he wants to be paid, Harry Potter. . . . Dobby likes being free!”

Some of the elves hanging around to listen in on them suddenly looked a little embarrassed, and the more Dobby talked, the more they shuffled back, as if he were carrying some kind of contagious disease. It was honestly really sad.

Dobby, cheerfully oblivious, kept going with his story. "And then, Harry Potter, Dobby goes to visit his friend Winky and he finds Winky has been freed too--" and at this Winky slid off of the stool and lay facedown on the floor absolutely howling her misery, and Hermione hastily dropped to her knees beside the poor creature to try and comfort her "--so Dobby suggests that he and Winky find work together, and so they come to Hogwarts to see Professor Dumbledore, and Professor Dumbledore took us on!"

He grinned rather toothily. "And Professor Dumbledore says he will pay Dobby, too, sir, if Dobby wants paying, and so Dobby earns a Galleon a week and one day off a month!"

"That's not very much," Joe commented while Hermione looked briefly outraged.

"Well, Professor Dumbledore offered Dobby ten Galleons a week and weekends off." Dobby shuddered with some semblance of horror. "But Dobby beat him down, sir, yes, Dobby likes being a free elf, and he likes being paid, but Dobby likes work much more."

"Huh." Joe took another bite from his cookie. "Alright."

"And how much is Professor Dumbledore paying you, Winky?" Hermione asked, trying to sound kind.

That was what caused Winky to stop crying abruptly, and she pushed herself back to a sitting position to give Hermione the look of death, which might have looked a little intimidating had she not been red rimmed in the eyes and with snot on her nose. "Winky is a disgraced elf, but Winky has not sunk so low as to be paid! Winky is properly ashamed about being freed!"

Hermione was shocked. "Ashamed? Why are you ashamed, Winky? It's Mr Crouch who should be ashamed, he was horrid to you--"

But Winky wasn't hearing it, yanking her ears down as if to block out the girl's words. “You is not insulting my master, miss!" she screeched. "You is not insulting Mr. Crouch! Mr. Crouch is a good wizard, miss! Mr. Crouch is right to sack bad Winky!” “Winky is having trouble adjusting, Harry Potter,” Dobby said confidentially. “Winky forgets she is not bound to Mr. Crouch anymore; she is allowed to speak her mind now, but she won’t do it.”

"Can't house elves speak their minds about their masters?" Ron asked, a little surprised, and Joe blinked when he saw the redhead had managed to get a sandwich to go with the cookies.

"Oh no sir," Dobby said somberly. “ ’Tis part of the house-elf’s enslavement, sir. We keeps their secrets and our silence, sir. We upholds the family’s honor, and we never speaks ill of them — though Professor Dumbledore told Dobby he does not insist upon this."

Joe agreeing that they had to stop Hagrid doing the interview was sobering, because it meant that whatever came of it in the original story wasn’t good. If they could protect their friend….well, they had to, of course.

As for the skrewts being guaranteed gone, well, thank God for that.

Divination was perfectly pleasant, aside from being in a stuffy tower, and having Trelawney declare his doom every other sentence. “It’d be easier to indulge her and pretend I was impressed still if she didn’t do it about eighty times a class,” Harry snorted as they finally regained the fresh air of the staircase. “But if I’d dropped dead every time she’s told me I’m going to, I’d be a medical miracle.”

“You’d be a sort of extra-concentrated ghost,” Ron agreed, chortling.

Joe’s warning had them cutting off the laughs as they headed into the common room–and ambushed they were, by a breathless and stuttering Hermione. Harry almost fell on his face as she started hauling him along, Joe and Ron on their heels, back down through the entire castle to a corrido behind the Great Hall.

“Oh, blimey,” Harry sighed, when he spotted the painting and heard Joe’s words. “Hermione–”

Well, they were already there, he supposed. Watching her scramble in, Harry sighed at Joe’s teasing grin and climbed in after her. He had one brief glimpse of an enormous, high-ceilinged room, as large as the Great Hall above it, with mounds of glittering brass pots and pans heaped around the stone walls, and a great brick fireplace at the other end, when something small hurtled toward him from the middle of the room, squealing, “Harry Potter, sir! Harry Potter!”

Next second the wind was knocked out of him as the squealing house elf hit him hard in the midriff, hugging him so tightly he thought his ribs would break. “D-Dobby?” Harry gasped.

“It is Dobby, sir, it is!” squealed the familiar voice, from somewhere around his navel. “Dobby has been hoping and hoping to see Harry Potter, sir, and Harry Potter has come to see him, sir!”

Dobby let go and stepped back a few paces, beaming up at Harry, his enormous, green, tennis-ball-shaped eyes brimming with tears of happiness. He looked almost exactly as Harry remembered him—all except the clothes, which were very different. Unlike his old dirty pillowcase from when he had been Lucius Malfoy’s servant ,now he wore…

“Wow,” Ron coughed on a laugh. Dobby was wearing a tea cozy for a hat, on which he had pinned a number of bright badges; a tie patterned with horseshoes over a bare chest, a pair of what looked like children’s soccer shorts, and odd socks. One of these, Harry saw, was the black one that he and Joe had tricked Mr. Malfoy into giving Dobby to begin with. The other was covered in pink and orange stripes.

“Dobby, what’re you doing here?” Harry asked in amazement. He looked at Hermione, who beamed back, clearly delighted with herself for having discovered this.

“Dobby has come to work at Hogwarts, sir!” Dobby squealed. “Professor Dumbledore gave Dobby and Winky jobs, sir!”

“Winky?” Harry repeated. “She’s here too?”

“Yes, sir, yes!” Dobby seized Harry’s hand and pulled, leading all four of them deeper into the kitchen between the four long wooden tables that stood there. Each of these tables, Harry realized, was positioned exactly beneath the four House tables above, in the Great Hall. At least a hundred little elves were standing around the kitchen, beaming, bowing, and curtsying as Dobby led Harry past them. They were all wearing the same uniform: a tea towel stamped with the Hogwarts crest, and tied, as Winky’s had been, like a toga.

Dobby stopped in front of the brick fireplace and pointed. “Winky, sir!” he said.

Winky was sitting on a stool by the fire. Unlike Dobby, she had obviously not foraged for clothes. She was wearing a neat little skirt and blouse with a matching blue hat, which had holes in it for her large ears.

“Hello, Winky,” Harry offered kindly. Winky looked up at him, and then her lip quivered, before she suddenly burst into tears.

“Oh dear,” Hermione sighed. “Winky, don’t cry, please don’t…”

Winky continued right on weeping, while Dobby beamed up at them all. “Would Harry Potter and his friends like tea?” he squeaked loudly, over Winky’s sobs.

“Er—yeah, okay,” Harry said, awkwardly, unsure how to comfort Winky. Instantly, about six house elves came trotting up, bearing a large silver tray laden with a teapot, cups for Harry, Joe, Ron, and Hermione, a milk jug, and a large plate of biscuits, and they conjured four stools more suited for humans to sit on.

“How long have you been here, Dobby?” Harry asked as Dobby handed around the tea.

“Only a week, Harry Potter, sir!” Dobby said happily. “Dobby came to see Professor Dumbledore, sir. You see, sir, it is very difficult for a house elf who has been dismissed to get a new position, sir, very difficult indeed. “Dobby has traveled the country for two whole years, sir, trying to find work! But Dobby hasn’t found work, sir, because Dobby wants paying now!”

Harry sighed as Hermione preened, giving her a look. “What, he wanted that for himself,” she said defensively. “It isn’t as if we’ve been pen pals as he looked! I didn’t know he was here till now, either.”

[thrawns-babygirl]

Discomfort (Crosshair x GN!Reader)

Should I be working through my asks? Yes. Do I just really want to give Crosshair head? Also yes. Is Medic!Reader my favourite Crosshair trope? 100% yes. So have this self indulgent smut that I tried to add plot to

Also wanted to practice GN stuff so let me know how it goes. Also if it's not obvious the author is not a doctor and will never be one so please don't judge that part too harshly lmao.

Rating: E

Summary: Crosshair comes home from a mission injured and comes to see you after hours

Warnings: Oral M!Receiving (yes 2k words and that is literally it lmao)

Word Count: 2231

Masterlist

Did I write my longest fic yet just to give Cross some sloppy toppy? Abso-fucking-lutely. And I regret NOTHING

It was late when the Batch arrived back on Kamino, a ping on your comm failing to wake you from your heavy slumber. It had been a rather hectic day after all. Although you were officially the medic assigned to Clone Force 99, while they were off world you earned your keep looking after other squads who had gotten injuries while training or taking care of groups of clones that had to return to Kamino for medical emergencies. Which in the past few rotations was a lot of clones.

You were however roused from your slumber when your door chimed indicating a visitor. Grumbling to yourself and pulling on some loose fatigue pants and a tank top you shuffle over to the door of your modest quarters prepared to give your unwelcomed guest a piece of your mind.

Hitting the door panel, the door whooshed open to reveal Hunter and Crosshair, the former looking tired and apologetic with the weight of the latter slung over his shoulder.

“Sorry to bug you so late doc, but the long necks over in medical told us to come to you if it wasn’t life threatening, something about being over capacity at the moment” Hunter explained gesturing to the taller man next to him.

“I’m fine Hunter” Crosshair grit out, but you didn’t miss the slight wince as he tried to put pressure on his right leg.

All previous grouchiness leaving you as you took in the sight of an irate and obviously in pain Crosshair leaning against his brother. They both looked exhausted and given that it’s been a good number of rotations since you’ve seen them, you’re not surprised they look a little worse for wear.

Smiling softly, you move out of the doorway and gesture for them to come in. Hunter deposits a grumbling crosshair into one of the chairs in the corner of your room that seldom saw use. It’s not like you got too many visitors.

“I didn’t realise you were back home” you say as you head over to your cabinet to grab your supplies, given that he was still walking, you didn’t think there was too many problems with the sniper, but better to be safe than sorry.

“We only just got back, Tech tried to comm you, and when you didn’t reply we went to your bay in Medical only to be told to Kriff off basically by the regs there who-” Hunter attempted and failed to stifle a yawn “-seemed to have their hands full”.

“Go back to the barracks sarge, I’ll patch up Mr. Talkative over there and send him back over when we’re done” You smile as Hunter gives you a relieved look and nods at Crosshair “Behave yourself” he says as he heads towards the door leaving you alone with the sniper, who has yet to say a word to you.

“So Cross, what’s the problem?” You ask as you haul the remarkably taller man over your shoulder and guide him towards your bed to lie him down and you can begin examining what appears to be his right ankle if his limp is any descriptor.

“Meddling team mates and an annoying doctor who won’t let me go to sleep” he bites back slipping a toothpick into his mouth as he lies back on the bed that you were occupying not even ten minutes ago.

“Oh, a comedian now huh? Well, the jokes on you because the sooner you tell me what’s actually happening then the sooner I’ll be out of your hair and you can actually get some sleep. Just like your brothers are probably doing right now. So, I’ll ask again smart-ass, what’s wrong?” you slide on some latex gloves and begin reaching over his lithe legs to remove his boots and the hard plastoid of the lower half of his armour.

“Right ankle. Rolled it wrong retreating from the seppie’s base at the end of our last mission. Tech checked it over and said nothing was broken and to get you to look at it when we got back. Here I am.” He finally answers.

“See? Was that so hard? I know you’re tired but this whole process goes by a lot faster when you cooperate” giving him a small yet genuine smile, you start rotating the ankle, applying small amounts of pressure to see where it hurts the most and taking mental notes as you go. His replies are short and clipped the entire time, even as you dropped the snarky façade you usually had when dealing with this specific clone in favour of your usual bedside manner.

You slowly place his leg back down onto the bed, grabbing some supplies from the box beside you before inputting your findings into your data-pad.

“You’re especially talkative tonight. Credit for your thoughts?” this was your olive branch. Any time the two of you were together you would banter, bicker and generally be a headache for whoever was unfortunate enough to be in your presence, usually his brothers.

He remains silent, avoiding eye contact and facing the wall towards the other side of the room. The smell of you was invading his senses as he laid his head back on your pillows and making his resolve crumble. You were always so willing to play his games, always willing to bite when he would bait you into the sort of banter that gave Hunter a headache and made the others worry you actually hated each other. But you didn’t hate him, you both knew that.  

He wished you would just hate him like everyone else. He wished you would have just turned him away to deal with the pain until you were actually on duty tomorrow instead of inviting him into your room, lying him on your bed as you looked over him in nothing but loose sweats and a thin tank top. He never saw you outside of your uniform and he wasn’t prepared for his body’s reaction to the sight of your skin, his blood rushing south. He was only hoping this would be over as soon as possible and that you wouldn’t notice his slowly growing arousal.

“-if that’s alright?” Crosshair is shaken from his stupor as he realises, you’re talking to him.

“What?” he asks eloquently dragging his eyes over to you.

“I won’t be able to fully examine your ankle through your blacks, they are compression suits after all so I can’t exactly roll them up your leg without possibly exacerbating whatever’s wrong. I’ll need you to strip from the waist down so I can see the full extent of the bruising and check the scope of the swelling to make sure there are no torn ligaments or anything like that. It shouldn’t take too long” you give him a tired smile, your words free from any of the venom they usually have when you address one another.

“Now doc, if you wanted me alone and naked in your room you just had to ask” he smirks over at you. Trying to stall for time and will his semi hard cock to go down.

You roll your eyes, but you are acutely aware of the blush that has bloomed over your face. You can’t say you’ve never thought about it, that would be a huge lie. You’ve thought about it a lot. You were thinking about it as you went to sleep a few hours before being awoken by the object of your desires standing in the doorway to your quarters. But you were a doctor, and he was your patient, now was not the time to be having such inappropriate thoughts, now was the time to bury those feelings deeper than you usually would and just do your job.

“Oh? Alright then, pants off di’kut” you bite back, hoping that your snark covers up how you’re genuinely curious about what he’s hiding under his blacks. Looking up from your data-pad, you notice he’s blushing, Avoiding eye contact with you again.

You’re taken aback, even when your banter turns flirty, you’ve never seen the man in front of you blush, let alone seem embarrassed as he does now. Clearing his throat, he shifts on the bed, lifting his hips slightly to slide his blacks down. You’re about to tell him that if he’s uncomfortable he doesn’t need to undress in front of you, but the words catch in your throat as your eyes are drawn to the source of his discomfort.

He’s huge, long, thick and impossibly hard, the sight makes your mouth water and clears every professional thought from your head. You shake your head and attempt to get back into your ‘doctor’ headspace but its impossible to drag your eyes away from his length. Finally looking down to his ankle you begin to poke and prod and ask questions.

You determine that there is no severe damage and finally swallow your pride and meet his gaze again. His near permanent scowl is replaced with a smug smirk as he takes in your flustered expression.

“See something you like doc?” he all but purrs at you and your face feels like its on fire.

“Y-yes well there doesn’t appear to be anything that will require urgent medical attention, some bacta and a bandage as well as two or three days of rest will be all you need” your eyes burn into his, refusing to travel any lower as you remove your gloves.

“I don’t know about that doc… I can think of something else I might need. I do have some other areas of… discomfort” he’s teasing you now, happy to finally have the upper hand again.

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry as you refuse to break eye contact with him.

“And- uh- how would you like me to help with that… discomfort, trooper?” your words are just above a whisper as your common sense loses out to your desire and your gaze return to his throbbing length, you notice a bit of precum has gathered at the tip and you want nothing more than to lean down and taste it.

Kark it. You two have been dancing around this for too long and professionalism is overrated anyway.

“You’re the doctor, you’re the one who should know what the patient nee- Ah” you cut him off by licking a line from the base of his cock to the tip, swirling your tongue along the tip to gather the beaded precum that has gathered over the course of your examination. He lets out a hiss, teeth clenching down on the toothpick in his mouth as the feeling of your warm mouth engulfs him.

He was just teasing, he didn’t think either of you would actually take that final step and he’s thrown off guard. You sense you have the advantage over him now and suck hard, running your tongue along the veins on the underside of his cock.

“Kriff doc, just like that- karking perfect” he grunts out above you. He’s panting now, his voice has lost its teasing edge and his hips are slowly rising to shove himself further into your warm mouth. You bring your hand around to stroke the part of him that you can’t fit into your throat.

He moves one of his hands to the back of your head, forcing you further onto his length and causing you to gag slightly. He lets out a sinful groan at the sound of you gagging on his cock, it sends jolts of electricity down his spine pushing him closer to the edge faster than he anticipated.

The sounds he’s making are downright addictive, causing you to double your efforts. Right now, you decide, you are going to give this man the best head of his life. Saliva runs out of your mouth down his shaft and onto his balls as you gag and moan around him. His heavy pants and soft slurping sounds are the only things that can be heard in your room as you bring him closer and closer to the edge.

The hand that’s not wrapped around his shaft moves down to his balls, moving and fondling them before your mouth leaves his length and you run your tongue along his balls, pumping him as you take one and then the other into your mouth sucking them lightly, savouring the strangled groans that he tries and fails to stifle.

“Kark- doc- I’m gonna-” you take him as deep in your throat as you can, swallowing around him as his hand tangles in your hair and holds you there as he spills down your throat, emptying himself into your welcoming mouth, hips thrusting up of their own accord.

You release his cock with a ‘pop’ and move to look up at him. He looks utterly ruined. Wide eyes, blown pupils and heaving chest stripping away all his prior cockiness. His mouth hangs open slightly, toothpick threatening to fall from its current position perched precariously on his bottom lip as he stares at you.

You apply some bacta patches, a bandage and hand him his previously discarded pants. You input some information into your data-pad before turning back to him.

“Well, if that’s everything I recommend returning to your barracks for a good night’s rest trooper. If any further… discomfort arises you know where to find me” you wink down at him.

@where-is-my-mind-tho

@starborncyare

[lottiecrabie]

I fear this new line cook! matty content is driving me to a point of no return... the asylum is calling me rn

why does the concept of a more greasy, gross and depraved matty turn me on MORE? like the concept of being younger (but not so young it's weird cmon now, no nonce vibes) and him corrupting you... YUP!!!!

do you have any concept on how it all starts? my brain goes to you need the extra money and host! Adam needs someone to stay late one night and clean, so he asks if you'll do it. you reluctantly agree bc you really need the cash but think you're alone in the restaurant so you have music full blast whilst cleaning and eventually from behind you hear "nice music taste sweetheart would've have guessed you were a - fan" (I can't think of an appropriate musician rn so you fill in the blank.) Obviously you scream and turn around to see sweaty and slightly gross (but unbelievably attractive) line cook matty leaning on the door into the kitchen with a lazy smirk on his face.

one thing leads to another, and you eventually start chatting and are sitting at a table across from each other when he pulls his cigs out and goes, "you don't mind if I smoke in here right love?" and you get all shy and embarrassed and say "no no it's fine... I've never actually smoked a cigarette before, you know?" and this is just like catnip to him bc GOD you're so innocent and cute. you ask to try one if thats okay but he doesn't want you hurting your pure lungs so says "okay sweetheart how about this, instead of you getting your own one and hurting those pretty lungs, let me shotgun you" he then has to explain what shotgunning is bc you're just that new to everything and he's trying to deny in his mind that it makes you even hotter.

he pats the chair next to him and says, "come and sit here babe, it'll be easier." so you shyly get up and shuffle over whilst matty tries not to obsess over how sweet you smell and how short your skirt is riding up your thighs. "I'm gonna take a drag, and then as I breathe out the smoke, you're going to breathe it in. can you do that sweetheart?" obviously completely enthralled by this hot guy teaching you how to smoke you nod and shuffle closer saying "okay" and matty has to close his eyes and force himself to breathe bc of how soft and innocent you sounded. he takes a drag and grabs the back of your head, and out of instinct you grab the his arm and lean in. as he breathes out, you breathe in with a shy smile on your face. he stops and says, "good job baby, now breathe it into your lungs a little... there you go, good girl, " and if you weren't already coughing and spluttering from trying to inhale, that comment would have made you do it anyway.

you do that a couple more times, and then your phone is vibrating on the table. you look and say "shit it's 11pm already?? my roommate was expecting me home hours ago. oh god I've gotta go" you start grabbing everything and then suddenly freeze. matty notices and is like "love? everything okay?" and you sigh and go "not exactly... I forgot Sam (a fellow waitress idk) was my lift home and I can't walk home at this time. I don't know what to do" and matty being the gentleman he is says "don't worry baby ill give you a lift" you stare at him slightly anxious but so excited at the concept of more time with him in a smaller space and go "really matty?" and he just scoffs and goes "of course love, what kind of bloke would I be leaving a pretty young girl like you stranded huh?"

you get his car and tell him your address, he goes to turn the ignition and the car backfires (idk if that's how it actually works I cannot drive lmao) so obviously you jump and he instinctively puts his hand on your thigh and goes "its okay darling just the car warming up don't worry" you just nod with a red face trying not to overthink the fact that he's touching you and keep a straight face. matty sees right through you so keeps his hand there, takes it off to change gears and puts it right back to see you get re-flustered everytime.

eventually you get to your place and he walks you to your door you say "really thank you again I appreciate it" and he's like "it's okay I'm glad you're home safe" . not wanting to be too creepy, he goes in to kiss your cheek but in some bold confidence boost you turn and kiss him on the lips. he shoots back and looks at you and starts to say "look love i-" but when he looks back at you with your lips slightly parted and they're red and puffy and you're looking up at him with doe eyes he can't help himself so he just goes back in full force groaning and how soft your lips are and how sweet you taste when he licks in your mouth. it gets hot and heavy pretty quick, so out of breath from kissing matty asks "now where did that come from angel? what happened to the pretty little thing who didn't know what shogunning was huh?" and giggling you respond with assured nods and sarcastically say "it must be the cigarettes, you're such a bad influence" and flutter your eyelashes at him. whilst in this strangely confident state you ask, "Do you want to come upstairs?" and matty just smirks and says "not tonight love but come see me in my office tomorrow and we can definitely discuss this more" so you get all shy and say "okay then... I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" and turn to put your key in and he goes "oh you certainly will sweetheart you aren't getting away that easily" which makes you giggle and walk away with slightly more sway in your hips than necessary. you turn back and see him standing there through the lift doors so you do a coy little wave and matty teasingly does the exact same wave back as the doors shut.

I'm SO sorry this got so long and I'm not a writer so ignore all the shit BUT you get my concept

anways going to get a lobotomy now brb

SCREAMING don’t say you’re not a writer that was so good!! also so so funny to receive a full blown blurb into my ask like damn we are switching places here! didn’t even have to write it for the thoughts to exist🥰 felt like i was being serenaded with smut. (and when i do a reverse blurb night where i post prompts and other people send the blurbs in instead🤨)

‘why does greasy, gross and depraved turn me on more’ that is the linecook paradox that is the ultimate question!!!

omg he would 100% drive her home anytime she’s closing Even before they’re ever hooking up. he’s just not letting a young pretty girl like her walk alone at night. also i Love shotgunning in stories (it’s literally in my smut ideas list😭) like damn getting all close and personal with ur lips??🤭 why so sensual