#he hates u at first until u win him over and then he’d do anything for u

[astrobei]

something something mike wheeler is so used to being brushed off and ignored by his own family that he learns to make his feelings loud and obnoxious around most people because it’s better to be ignored when you’re being annoying on purpose than to be ignored when you’re being vulnerable on accident. he learns to roll his eyes and be slow to trust and be critical of newcomers because his friends are his people— his most trusted, his tried and true ride or dies, but after you make it into his circle he will die for you. he scowls and he glares and he tries so hard to be somebody he’s not because he thinks things will be easier for him that way, because he’s been bullied his whole life. he’s a little abrasive but he softens around his best friend, who can get him to open up without even saying a word. he likes syrup on his eggs and cheesy pop music. he’s the paladin, he’s a fighter, he’s a source of good. he’s will’s light in the darkness and he finds that same light in will too. he’s surprised every time a parental figure hugs him. he’s seen his best friends die and come back and die again. he spent a year searching for a purpose and he found it in will byers. he feels like nobody needs him, but all he wants is to be needed. to be wanted. he feels like he’s drifting apart from his people, until will reels him in, tethers him, and says hey, remember when you said asking me to be your friend was the best thing you ever did? well being your friend gives me the courage to fight on.

[yutarot]

deal or no deal (mark lee smau)

6) “i like you.” (written chapter) 888w

- game day -

“technically, me going to the game with mingi means you have to get some sharpie on that forehead.” you yell to mark in the other room, probably panicking to get ready considering it was 7pm and the game starts at 8. the routine of bangs which follow by a pained hiss confirm your thoughts.

“you okay in there mark?” natty shares your laughter as mark curses at you both from the doorway.

finally coming through the door in his green and black basketball jersey, mark stumbles across the kitchen of the boys’ frat house, house keys twirling round his finger. “technically, you and mingi aren’t even going on a date, let alone is he your boyfriend, just wait till i score a 3 pointer tonight.” he’s smug. you hate it.

“you won’t.” you reply but he only winks at you, heading outside to the minivan where chenle and the rest of the team are waiting.

once you make it to the SKU campus, you feel nothing but a pang of nerves cascading across your chest, nerves that have nothing to do with the result of the game.

“you can drop me here,” you call to jeno, who was driving, “mingi said he’d meet me outside, thanks jen.”

you wave goodbye to natty, jeno and donghyuck, straightening down your hair and wondering what is causing you to be so nervous meeting a man you’d known for over a year.

that was until, you saw his face infront of you.

“hey.”

“hey.”

never in your life had you experienced anything as awkward as this moment. wishing the band or anyone was with you.

“so, uh, you wanna take our seats?” you ask and he nods, not saying a single word until you enter the stands.

“you look really nice, yn.”

what.

whaaaaaaaat.

“what?”

he laughs a laugh u wish you will never witness again in your lifetime unless your with him, you nearly melt in your seat. “i said you look really nice.” he’s still laughing but you don’t find anything funny right now. you want to go home, back to the dorm with natty and julie where you can squeal to your hearts desire. instead, you have to hold yourself back, sufficing with a quick ‘thank you’ and turning your head back to the game as the cheerleaders run onto court.

you spot julie in her uniform, giving her a wave and giggling as she smiles back.

you forget completely about the man beside you.

“you’re friends with julie?” he asks. brows furrowing.

“yeah, she’s my roommate. why?”

“nothing.”

weird.

you soon realise you hadn’t messaged mark or chenle to wish them luck on the game. pulling out your phone, you find the groupchat , sending them a text and shoving your phone back into your pocket; hands clammy and shaking. you were so nervous.

throughout the game, mingi had said nothing but a few comments, occasionally criticising the play or yelling out chants everytime NCU scored. you couldn’t help but wonder why he had invited you in the first place, his sudden lack of disrespect towards you baffling and without reason.

that was until half time.

as you return to your seat from a quick bathroom break, mingi turns to you, eyes set on your own.

“look yn, i need to talk to you.”

you nod in reply.

“what’s going on between you and mark?”

you’re confused. is he asking if you’re dating? you and mark get that alot but from him�� he has no reason to ask that.

“we’re just friends. why?”

“i like you.”

oh.

it’s sudden, unexpected.

he didn’t hesitate.

you’re stuck in place, eyes unable to drift to his, mouth unable to close.

he’s everything you’ve ever wanted. lead guitarist of your college band, second most popular guy on campus (after jeno of course), and here he was telling you the three words you’d been waiting and waiting to hear.

and yet all you can think about is how you will win that stupid bet.

“you don’t have to reply, not yet.” he continues, “i just want you to know.”

your mind draws back to the practice you had in mingis garage where you first played your new solo, it was then. that was when his attitude changed. that was when he started liking you. only, you struggled to understand why.

after the game, you waved goodbye to mingi as you clambered back into the car with jeno, hyuck and natty, mark and chenle joining you after their win against SKU. if you were being honest, you weren’t watching the second half of the game, mind fixated on the three words mingi had told you. the three words that would be running in your mind over and over and over and-

“yn?” mark calls out from the seat next to you, a look of worry plastered on his face. why is he worried? he should be ecstatic right now? “you okay? you haven’t said a word.”

“oh sorry, im fine.”

mark knows you, and he knows you are in fact, not fine. but he dismisses it anyway, keeping a reminder to himself to ask you later.

the drive back to the house is loud and embodies the atmosphere of party, crammed somewhat illegally in the back of jenos car, the boys singing chants and natty cheering alongside them.

you should be happy, but your not.

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@therealbobbyshloby

[discokicks]

WHISKEY, TANGO, FOXTROT - ROY KENT.

PART FOUR OF ACES AT THE WATER'S EDGE.

(series masterlist!) (AO3!) (series playlist!)

pairing: roy kent x fem!reader (no use of y/n!) summary: it's your first game of the season at chelsea and rebecca’s got some press for you to do. however, thanks to rupert, the reporters will have some questions you’re not exactly ready for. the same could be said for 2012 roy kent, who’s abusing his new avoidance power to the fullest extent. but, as the two of you continue to work and get closer, you realize that there might just be something else there.

word count & rating: 15.4k (holy fuck this is why it took 6 months), R (language per usual) chapter warnings: swearing, references to sex, minor allusions to sexual harassment, mentions of alcohol, the beginnings of sexual tension (slow and steady wins the race), rupert is a dick, roy kent has got around and everyone knows it, keeley and rebecca are wine drinking pr besties, men are trash (but we know this) author's note: long time no see and happy olympics season! it felt fitting to post this now, so I got motivated to get my ass into gear and write. there's A LOT to this one, so buckle up. and make sure you stay until the end bc baby we're cooking with gas now. this took a lot out of me, so i hope you enjoy! love u tons! -mags

LONDON OLYMPICS, LATE JULY, 2012.

You’re up 1-0 when you retreat into the locker room at halftime during your third game of the Olympic Tournament against North Korea.

Despite the fact that you’re winning, it was a terrible showing from each of you, except for Mel, who’d been your lone scorer of the night. She’d had a breakaway and had managed to single-handedly beat three defenders for a pretty impressive goal. You’d practically jumped into her arms during the celebration, glad that someone was able to break the sleepy curse that had seemed to be placed on your team.

Your captain Katie O’Connor stands tall at the front of the room, ready to rip you guys a new one. She was the more… passionate of your three captains, potentially coming off as abrasive when things weren’t going your way or if she felt that things could be better. It was only because she cared so much. You all did.

“We should be beating them by four at this point,” she says, pointing out the door. A mumbling of agreements goes through your team, knowing that it’s the truth. “We’re playing like it’s fucking high school out there. It’s the fucking Olympics, act like we belong here, for fuck’s sake.”

The amount of ‘fucks’ that Katie drops instantly has you thinking of someone else. God damn it, he was probably watching, wasn’t he? You could only imagine the things he was thinking, or saying, for that matter. 

You know you shouldn’t care as much as you do, but… as much as you hate to admit it, you want to impress him. Or at least make it look like these training sessions have been worth it. There was something about him that made you want to prove yourself. It wasn’t that he demanded you to do so or that he’d value you less if you didn’t, but you wanted to. Unfortunately, you cared about his opinion. How tragic was that?

Curiosity gets the best of you. Before your coach can come into the locker room, you fish through your bag and take a peek at your phone, just to see if he, or anyone else, has said anything.

Sure enough, you see that you’ve got two texts from Roy Kent that were sent five minutes ago, right when you finished the half.

What a fucking atrocious half. I fucking dare you to hit the post one more time.

A scowl pulls at your lips, but you know it’s true. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t already thought yourself. He had an extraordinary talent for knowing how to be exactly the brand of jackass that pissed you off, though. It only became more apparent as you read the next message.

You could learn a thing or two about footwork from Rivera.

You scoff, glancing over at Mel, who, while she sat next to you, was staring blankly at the wall, undoubtedly in her own little world. Before she notices you looking, you’ve turned back to your phone and to his messages. “Asshole,” you mutter, but type out your response.

maybe i’ll get her to coach me then. she isn’t as much of a dick to me.

The response comes before you can put away your phone. Not your coach, he says, then sends another message. Relax out there. You’re somehow playing nervous and stiff at the same time. You’re a fucking anomaly. But before you can frown too hard at that, he says, You know how to see the field. So take a breath and fucking see it.

You throw your phone back in your bag with a huff, mind reeling as you attempt to think back to what the field looked like before the half. The last three possessions had you following Mel as she took the ball up the field. The defense had started favoring her side due to her dominance throughout the game, leaving… 

…Katie on the left side. And while they hadn’t left her open—

“Did you call me an asshole a second ago?” Mel asks from beside you, having broken out of her own trance. You flinch at the sound of her voice, instinctively flipping your phone over and against the bench you’re sitting on. 

She courteously spares you the weird look you know she’s holding back. “No,” you reply. You motion to your phone. “Roy’s texting me.”

Mel nods in understanding. “Gotcha. What’s Coach Kent have to say?”

“He’s being an asshole,” you repeat. “He says we’re ‘atrocious.’ Making fun of how much I’m hitting the post.” You turn to her. “He’s got good things to say about your footwork, though.”

Mel grins. “I knew I liked him.”

You scowl again at that. “He’s also telling me I need to see the field better.” Mel raises her brows at the look on your face, cueing you to go on. “I think Katie’s been open-ish for the last three possessions. They’re favoring your side.”

The two of you look back to your teammate once more as you consider this. “We could keep trying to draw the defense out,” Mel offers. “We scare them a little bit, hit her when she’s coming up.”

“She can beat that fullback in a heartbeat,” you agree.

“It’s worth a shot,” she says. “We can’t play any shittier than we already are.”

You nod at Mel with faux enthusiasm. “That’s the spirit.”

And that’s exactly what you decide. Mel jumps to her feet and explains your plan to Katie and the team, drawing up the X’s and O’s on the locker room whiteboard. You glance around the room cautiously, forcing yourself not to read into your teammates' expressions too deeply. 

But it’s hard. Especially when you’re an overthinker.

It’s a title you’ve resigned yourself to, much to Roy’s pleasure. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, it was the truth. And while you were still working to get out of that lifelong mindset, it didn't seem to be getting any easier. 

But your over-analyzing leads you to a result you like: all of your teammates seem to be on board with your ideas. You can’t deny that that feels good.

You especially can’t deny it when your coach walks into the locker room to see Mel’s play on the baker and says, “Well, you ladies are way ahead of me.” Because that’s exactly what she was going to draw up.

That feeling has you giddily awaiting the moment you can grab your phone before you head back out to the field to send a text to your newfound trainer. 

i’ll have a shot on net in the first ten minutes, you type to him, confidence radiating through the text. and it’s not gonna hit the post this time.

Your message reaches Roy when he returns to his phone at the beginning of the second half. He can’t help the chuckle that escapes him as he settles back into his couch, shaking his head when he glances up at the massive TV in his sitting room, the broadcast showing a close-up of you with a new sort of fire in your eyes. It’s a look that illuminates his dim and quiet flat, one that he can’t seem to part with until they cut away from you.

Within four minutes and fifty-five seconds, you draw the defense over to you and Mel, who wails the ball over to Katie’s side of the field. Katie has possession of it for five seconds before she catches her defender off-guard and sends it in between her legs to you. 

Five minutes in, you live up to your promise and send the ball into the corner of the net, the crowd roaring as Katie shakes you back and forth in excitement and Mel jumps on your back. One of the cameramen runs up to you to catch your celebration, and you stare down the lens with a satisfied smile and point in a way that tells Roy that you’re looking directly at him. 

He couldn’t stop himself from grinning even if he wanted to. With yet another shake of his head, Roy reaches out for the phone he’d thrown onto the couch cushion next to him.

I told you. Fucking anomaly you are, you stupid fucking Yank, he writes. Stay pissed off. It’s a good look on you, Fourteen.

When Roy sends that text, he keeps his phone closer to him this time, and somehow, his dim and quiet flat feels just a bit lighter, even if for a brief moment.

PRESENT DAY, MID-AUGUST, 2023.

Before you can leave the Richmond facilities post-Saturday afternoon practice, you’re suddenly called into Rebecca Walton’s office.

It’s a day before your first game of the season and after your rather animated talk with Roy in the Boot Room yesterday, you’re feeling a bit lighter. You slept better last night (though you don’t see yourself hitting REM any time soon) and don’t feel like you’re being dragged down by the massive weight of… well, everything. It’s a feeling you’re taking in stride and one you’re welcoming with open arms. 

Practices before game days were typically a bit easier-going, and you and your fellow coaches had decided to make sure the team was up to date and understood the best plays to run against Chelsea tomorrow. They knew who to stop, what defenses to watch out for, and what trick plays to expect. While you hadn’t lent your voice to the conversation as much as you probably should have, especially after being yelled at for it yesterday, you spoke more than usual. While that still wasn’t a lot, it was enough. And that made you feel good, above all else.

That feeling goes away the second you walk into your boss’s office to see her and an incredibly familiar face staring at you from the couch area. Your lips part the second you see her, hand unsubtly slamming against the doorframe, not just to stabilize yourself, but to keep you from dramatically heel-turning out of the room, to never return.

By the way that Keeley Jones is looking at you, you can tell she’s just about on the same page. You suppose she’s got the better end of this deal, simply because your arrival doesn’t seem to be a surprise for her. At least she had a warning about the foreboding awkwardness of this situation. Your boss didn’t exactly grant you that luxury.

Then again, you figure Rebecca had no real way of knowing just how strange this might be for you. She didn’t know the extent of your history with Roy, and the only person who may was sitting right next to her, probably having shared more of that history than either of you cared to admit.

However, what you’re not expecting from Keeley, is the way she gapes at you, then turns to Rebecca to whisper, “Fucking hell, you didn’t say she was hotter in person.”

The shock and confusion flowing through your body makes you blink slowly at them to readjust, and you lean back on your back foot. You manage to stammer out, “I-I’m sorry to interrupt, I can come back--”

“No, no,” Rebecca says, beckoning you in after she finishes rolling her eyes at Keeley, “come on in and join us! We just opened a bottle.”

Join them? You glance at the open bottle of wine on the coffee table, then back to them. Is this why you were called here? To indulge in some post-work girl talk with your boss and Roy’s first real, and only public girlfriend? Ex-girlfriend, you remembered, but still.

You’re sure the discomfort you feel is broadcasted on your face, and that becomes especially apparent when Keeley offers you a small, kind smile. However, the action is sweet and it makes your over-anxious mind ease slightly. If she’s not going to be weird about it, you certainly aren’t either.

Besides, you have no idea what she actually knows about you and Roy. He would be the type to tell her nothing. He was the type to tell her nothing.

However, something about Keeley’s demeanor tells you that’s probably not the case.

When you realize that you’ve been standing like a freak in the doorway for just a moment too long, you snap out of your haze and return the smile, nodding gratefully as you enter Rebecca’s office.

“We were just discussing the game tomorrow,” Rebecca tells you as she reaches for the spare wine glass on the table. She eyes you with a wry grin. “I’d ask if you drank, but that bar cart I saw in your apartment gave you away.”

A surprised laugh escapes you at the rather forward comment, but it helps you relax slightly as you make your way to them. “Yeah, well. It was probably looking pretty sparse when you saw it.” You reach your hand out to Keeley, continuing to smile softly as you introduce yourself.

“Keeley Jones,” she says to you, though there’s a mutual understanding that this is just a formality. You both know who the other is. “Bad week, yeah?” she asks.

You reach for the wine glass Rebecca offers you and send a look of confirmation to Keeley. “You have no idea.” Your smile stretches as you look over at Rebecca and sit down. “These last couple of days have made up for it, though.”

Rebecca returns it. “That’s wonderful to hear.”

“I can imagine it’s been a little different than West Ham,” Keeley says. “We know what Rupert likes to pull. All that shit he’s been saying about you leaving?” She shakes her head. “I don’t know how people aren’t seeing through him.”

The smile you wear falters slightly. “I, uh… haven’t really been keeping up with any of that,” you tell her. “Figured it wouldn’t be great to hear anything that anybody’s saying about me, y’know?”

“Totally get that,” she replies kindly. However, she hesitates. “...But you… haven’t seen anything that’s been going around?”

“Um…” you trail off, shifting in your chair. “No? Why? Is it really that bad?”

Rebecca and Keeley exchange a look. “It’s just—” Rebecca cuts herself off, looking back at you. “Remember how I said you wouldn’t have to do any press if you didn’t want to?”

Any remnants of the demeanor you had when you sat down completely drain from your expression. “Oh, my God. It is that bad, isn’t it?”

Keeley shakes her head, holding out her hands. “No, no, it’s really not. It could be so much worse,” she assures. “I mean, it is that bad with those weird little shits online who always have a problem with successful women in sports, but what else is new—”

“This is the worst of it,” Rebecca interjects, putting a hand on her friend's arm. She passes you a tablet as Keeley goes quiet and you take it cautiously. 

It’s a video of Rupert at a press conference, one you presume was taken this morning. The season kicked off tomorrow and Ted, Rebecca, and the rest of the team had been stuck doing interviews all day, something of which you weren’t sad to have missed out on.

You press the play button in the center of the screen to watch Rupert point at someone off-camera. “Yes,” he says. “Daniel, what have you got?”

Daniel, presumably, asks, “I was just curious how the team’s feeling with that coaching shake-up so close to Opening Day?” You hear a murmur go through the audience of reporters. “Losing someone like that and then watching her get picked up by Richmond must be tough on you guys, no?”

Rupert seems to take this in and sit with it, nodding slowly. “I won’t lie to you, Daniel,” he says after a moment. “I wasn’t happy with the note that we ended on. She had concerns toward the end of her tenure about her role on the team and with certain aspects of AFC culture. She knows just how talented I think she is, and how excited we were to have her working with us. And we had a wonderful couple of months working with her. But, unfortunately…” He shakes his head scornfully, like all of this was genuinely upsetting him. “...there were just some differences we couldn’t get past. The team was remarkably sad to see her go, but I don’t believe it’ll affect our performance this season.” 

He lets his answer hang there for a moment, but tragically, he’s not done. “Perhaps Richmond was willing to offer her some things that we weren’t able to. Perhaps their values align more with what she wanted out of her AFC career.” And then, with a nonchalant shrug, he adds, “Perhaps she just wanted to coach with her old friend Roy Kent.” Your lips part at that, brow furrowing in disbelief as the reporters chuckle. “Who knows? I wish her the best and I wish Richmond good luck. I hope they’re a better fit for her.”

The clip cuts off there and you glance up at Rebecca and Keeley who are both bracing for impact. “What the fuck?” 

If either of them find your words unprofessional, they do nothing to indicate it. However, there’s something about them that tells you they’re more than comfortable with that kind of language in the workplace. “Yeah,” Keeley says. “So, like I said. It could be so much worse.”

“He was the one who was unhappy with how it ended?” you quote. “He’s upset about the differences we couldn’t work past? How about you address my concerns with AFC culture and get upset with your—”

You cut yourself off before you can say too much, focusing your attention on the plant in the corner of Rebecca’s office to stabilize yourself. What a fucking asshole. What a self-serving, lying, fucking asshole. He’s not worth the tears. Don’t give him that satisfaction.

You understand why you were called in now, why Rebecca prefaced the video with that question. You’d neglected to personally get ahead of Rupert and make a real statement on your choice to part with West Ham and sign with Richmond. Now you were paying that price— the price of being afraid.

“What—” Your voice cracks as you attempt to speak, and you clear your throat. “What type of press do I have to do?”

Rebecca’s sigh is empathetic. “We think it’d be smart to send you out with Ted tomorrow after the game. Make a statement, answer a few questions,” she says. “That is, if you’re open to it.”

Your brow raises skeptically. “I can say no to that?”

Rebecca chuckles. “You can say no to anything,” she tells you. “Roy refuses to do any sort of press and he’s managed to be completely fine. Labeled as a bitter, old recluse, but he doesn’t seem to care.” Typical. But then, she adds, “We do think it’s your best move, though.”

You know it’s your best move. You know it’s what you should have done at the beginning of all of this. You know that there’s nothing that you want to do less. But somehow, having that small, offhanded-out Rebecca offered makes it all sit a bit easier with you.

“I think so too,” you finally agree, sighing shakily. Rebecca and Keeley grin at you encouragingly, watching as you reach out to take a hearty sip of your wine. “So, what’s the plan?” You look over at Keeley. “I assume that’s why you’re here.”

Keeley’s face lights up. “Exactly why I’m here,” she replies. “We’re gonna PR this shit so fucking hard nobody is going to know what hit them.”

Her enthusiasm makes the corners of your mouth rise despite everything else. “Can’t say I’m great in front of a crowd,” you warn.

“It’s rare to find people who are,” Keeley responds easily, flicking her hand like she’s brushing off your comment. “That’s why we’re going to make this as simple as possible.”

You nod. “Okay. Hit me.”

“Okay, three things you’re going to want to address,” she begins, tapping on her fingers. “The first is clarifying the ‘note that you ended on’ and those differences with the team. You don’t need to get into specifics if you don’t want to—”

“I really do not,” you tell her.

“Got it,” she says, and the look on her face tells you she really does get it. “Don’t get into specifics. Just say that you’re also upset things didn’t work out, but that it was nothing personal. Truly just leadership differences, like was first said. Even if it wasn’t.”

Your eyes narrow in question. “So, just lie?”

“Welcome to PR, babe,” she replies, and her grin gets more genuine when she sees you chuckle. “Alright, second; we’ve gotta say something about why you chose Richmond. Something that goes beyond our stale press release statement.”

“I didn’t think it was stale,” you offer.

“Aw, thank you!” The smile drops from her face. “But it was. All press releases are. They’re just words on a page, which is so fucking boring. And they get no feeling across. Which is what we need from you,” she says with a point. “You just need to actually say what we’ve already said.”

Once again, you nod. “So, you need it once more, with feeling?”

Keeley blinks back at you, then glances at Rebecca. “My god, I fucking love her.”

The smile that pulls at your lips is involuntary and smaller than the encouraging one that appears on Rebecca’s. “I told you that you would,” she says softly to her, but it’s just loud enough for you to hear. She then turns to you once more. “He brought up AFC culture and our values, but don’t even touch that.”

“'Values' is a loaded word,” Keeley says. “He used it for a reason, but if we’re looking to ignore all this, we shouldn’t be using those types of words.”

“Right,” continues Rebecca. “We’re not looking for a fight here. You don’t want to engage, we don’t want to engage. I think we can all agree we’re looking for this to be over and done with and forgotten about, yes?”

“Yes,” you confirm.

“So, just agree with his comments. Leave it neutral. Non-confrontational,” Rebecca says. “Make it easy. Even if you’re not disappointed to have left the club, say that you are. If you want to touch on ‘culture’ reference AFC culture as a whole. The culture shock of transitioning from womens to mens sports.”

Neutral, you think. Non-confrontational. Easy. You can do that.

After a moment, you nod in confirmation at Rebecca. Then, you refocus on Keeley. “What’s the third thing we need to address?”

Keeley folds her hands awkwardly. “That would be… uh, your friendship with Roy.”

Your face goes hot almost instantaneously. “Oh,” you say softly. You scratch the inside of your wrist, finding it increasingly hard to keep Keeley’s gaze, especially as she continues to sit in that tension with you. “Do I have to? Address that, I mean? We were just friends. A ton of people in the football world are friends with each other. I don’t…” The lie sours your tongue and you glance over at Rebecca, hoping for her to throw some kind of life preserver to you over here. “I didn’t think anyone knew about that. It wasn’t like we were Matt Damon and Ben Affleck or whatever. Our friendship wasn’t mainstream news.”

“Some intern at The Sun found some photos of you two after the 2012 Olympics at a club,” Rebecca explains. Your entire body flushes as you remember that night. “They resurfaced and became relevant after your move to Richmond.”

“Okay, but, if it’s the night I think they’re referring to, we were out with our teams,” you attempt to reason. “There’s no reason other than media speculation that people would think we were… what was implied.”

Keeley points at you. “And that’s exactly what you’re going to say if you’re asked about it.” Then, with a good-humored shrug, she says, “If you want to be petty, you can talk about how this speculation wouldn’t be happening if you were a man.”

Rebecca looks at her friend. “That’s actually not bad. Because it wouldn’t be.”

“None of this would be,” you say to the two women in front of you. The tone you’ve taken is scornful, and while they may not know all the reasons why… they get it.

Keeley reaches forward to grab the bottle of wine at in the center of the coffee table and tilts it to offer it to you. You nod almost immediately, mustering up a small smile as she pours. “So, our plan is to send you in with Ted after tomorrow’s game. They’ll probably, mainly, have questions for you because that’s the drama right now, so I’ve written up something that we can practice and workshop.”

“Ted’s won the press over and is practically on a first-name basis with all of them,” Rebecca continues. “So, he’ll be a lifeline if you need him at any time.”

Keeley nods at the glass she just poured for you. “So, drink up. Because we’re going to run through this shit and roleplay.” She pauses for a moment, catching herself. “The press conference, I mean. Not the sexy kind.”

“Probably better for HR reasons,” you reply.

As that joke slips out of your mouth, you can feel your comfort level with them rising. Something about them is just so… welcoming. You’re in a room with your boss and Roy’s ex-girlfriend. You should be guarded. You should be censoring yourself. But as you continue to sit here, you can’t see yourself doing so.

Perhaps Richmond was willing to offer her some things that we weren’t able to. Perhaps you were right, you fucking prick.

Keeley snorts softly and nods in agreement and you notice the smile that grows on Rebecca’s face. “I’ve heard the HR is rather easily swayed, so we might be able to get away with it,” Keeley responds, grinning as she sees you laugh.

Rebecca claps her hands together. “So. Non-sexy press conference roleplay?”

They both turn to you, and after a hearty gulp of your wine, you sigh. “Let’s get to it.”

LONDON OLYMPICS, LATE JULY, 2012.

You finish the game against North Korea with another win under your belt and return to utter chaos when you get back to the dorms.

While you were the only scorer of the last half, everyone stepped up their game in the ways that they had to. Things still weren’t perfect and there was plenty for all of you to work on going forward, but you were proud of the way your team had turned things around. 

When you return, it’s just past midnight, and all you want to do is go to bed. The game had drained you completely dry, and there was nothing more appealing than the idea of tucking into your horrendously uncomfortable dorm bed. Luckily, unlike last time, Mel’s on the same page as you.

She’d fallen asleep on your shoulder on the bus ride back for about an hour and spent the other three complaining that you weren’t paying attention to her. And why weren’t you paying attention?

Because Roy fucking Kent wouldn’t stop texting you. After you’d read over the text he’d sent to you during the second half (and ignored the weird feeling in your stomach and heat on your cheeks at him calling you an anomaly, God, why did that word land with you so well?), you’d returned to gloat. Hit the post again, he’d said. You hadn’t.

Things had gotten carried away from there. What had started as a slightly antagonistic and taunting back and forth had devolved into a conversation about the sleeping accommodations in the dorms (big-time footballer in his posh london flat doesn’t even have the decency to drop off a mattress topper and some extra pillows? you’d complained to him), then to about which countries you wanted to visit (Australia. For no other reason than to meet a quokka, he’d told you), then to what the fuck a quokka is and why he knew about them (that’s the stupidest looking animal i’ve seen in my life. i want 10 of them, you’d said), to whatever you’d landed on next.

You’d put your phone in your pocket the second you’d pulled back into the Village, helping the team unload everyone’s stuff. Everyone seemed completely dead, something of which you celebrated, simply because it meant there was no team bonding preventing you from going to sleep as soon as possible. The only thing that was doing that for you was Mel’s incessant questions about Roy.

“I really think you’re lying to me about this being a weird sex thing,” she says, readjusting her grip on the bag slung over her shoulder. “Because there’s no other reason that you two should be talking as much as you are.”

You make a face at her. “It’s not a weird sex thing,” you say for what feels like the seventeenth time that night. “We’re just friends. Or, you know, whatever the closest thing to a friend Roy has is.”

“That’s exactly my point,” Mel replies. Her voice echoes through the quiet night air surrounding the dorm’s courtyard. “Roy doesn’t do friends. He hasn’t for as long as I’ve known him.”

“I thought you said you didn’t know him.”

“I don’t. And I say that’s because he won’t let me get to know him. Because he doesn’t do friends.” She shrugs. “I mean, ask Jack or anyone who’s played with him. They’ll say the same.”

When you approach the doors of your dorm building, you make a teasingly innocent face at Mel. “Maybe I’m just different.”

“Right,” she says dryly. “Or he wants to fuck you.”

“Why are you trying to ruin this for me?” you whine as you open the door. “I’m actually, like, kind of having fun with him and this training thing we’re doing. He’s a good guy.” 

Mel shoots you a blank-faced stare. “You were calling him an asshole less than six hours ago.”

“Because he is. But he’s a good guy too,” you respond. “He’s like… I don’t know. Like Ron Swanson or Harrison Ford. Total curmudgeon but in a fun way.”

Mel’s lips purse. “Well, now I can’t stop picturing him with the Ron Swanson mustache.”

You grin, sidestepping fellow Olympians who hang around in the lobby of the dorm. “Have fun sleeping tonight.”

A heavy, exaggerated, long sigh leaves her as you approach the elevator. “Just be careful,” she says, putting her hands up in surrender as you look at her incredulously. “Even if you are just friends. And even if you’re not. As your actual friend, I have to tell you to be careful. All men suck, but athletes tend to suck ten times more.”

“I’ll be fine,” you reply in a sing-song fashion. The elevator doors open and you and Mel step in. “I appreciate you, though.”

“You better,” Mel scoffs. “I’m getting gray hairs thinking you’re doing weird sex shit with Chelsea’s Finest on a random pitch in the middle of London.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, my God, can these things close any slow--”

“Hold the door!” shouts a voice from the lobby. On instinct, you reach out to stop the doors that were finally closing, feeling Mel’s elbow in your side. The voice gets louder as it gets closer. “Thank you. Did not feel like waiting for this thing again.”

Into the elevator walks (quite possibly) the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life. He’s got the quintessential surfer look to him, but in a way that works. He’s blonde (while you’re definitely more into dark hair, you can’t deny just how good he looks), at least six-three, and is built like a lean brick house. His curls fall into his eyes that squint into a smile as he looks at you and Mel.

“Oh,” he says as he walks in. “Congratulations on the win today.”

You and Mel stare at him in awe, snapping out of it as you realize that you’re gawking. “Thank you,” you manage to get out. You try to place his accent and what sport he could possibly specialize in, but your brain malfunctions. “I would say the same to you but I’m… uh--”

Luckily, he seems to catch on and saves you from your misery. “I’m Luca,” he says, holding out his hand for you and Mel to shake. “France. Swim team.”

“Nice to meet you, Luke,” Mel says, finally recovering from her trance. “You have any events today?”

“We did,” he says, though he seems to be talking more to you than to Mel. “Placed silver, so we can’t complain.” When you two congratulate him, he nearly brushes you off. “I have heard your team is looking like you’re going to go all the way this year. It is fun to watch.”

“We’re having a good run,” you respond, and he nods at you with that same breathtaking smile. “We’ll see what happens though.”

“Yeah, you are good.” Luca pauses for a moment, then shrugs coyly. “You’re American, so you are not as good as France, but you are up there.”

You see Mel’s head tilt out of the corner of your eye. “Easy now,” she warns with a light-hearted smile. “We beat them by two in our first match.”

Luca throws his hands up, grin turning teasing. “Just telling the truth. I must support my own.”

“Well,” you say, brow furrowed. “We’ll see when we get to the finals.”

“Oui. I believe that we will,” he responds. You notice that he’s leaned in closer than you had previously anticipated and the realization makes your face heat. “We should put a wager on it.”

“You want me to bet on my own team?” you ask rather bluntly, hearing Mel cough to cover a laugh.

“I suppose, yes,” Luca answers. The elevator stops at his floor and his eyes flick to the number on the small screen. “If France wins in your little tournament, you must purchase me a drink when these games are over. But if you win…” He trails off with a shrug as the doors open. “I’ll buy you one. It is only fair, no?”

You blink at him, trying to make sense of this entire situation. Is he flirting with you? Setting a friendly bet to get a drink? Just trying to be a jerk by referring to your Olympic Games as a ‘little tournament’? Then again, he was French, so many that’s just the way he spoke.

Yet another nudge from Mel finally has you answering. “I’m the one playing,” you say slowly, cautiously trying to read him. “I feel like I should have a better prize for winning.”

Luca seems to consider this but shrugs once more. “Those are my terms. Even I cannot make exceptions for beautiful women. Do you accept?”

Okay, so maybe he is flirting with you. This beautiful, French, god of a man is potentially flirting with you. You wish he’d upped the stakes by asking you to dinner or something to offer something more direct, but this is what you’re getting. As he exits the elevator, he puts a hand on the door while he awaits your answer. 

But, you don’t know him. You don’t know what he’s like, you don’t know if you’ll want him as a prize if you win, or as a consolation if you lose. But, you figure, it’s just fun. And he’s hot. So why not.

“I’ll consider it,” you decide, mirroring that grin of his.

Luca nods at you, motioning to the hallway behind him. “The deal expires soon. And now you know where to find me.” The smile returns. “So find me if you’re interested.”

And with that, your movie-star-looking, strange Frenchman saunters off down the hall, leaving you with a million questions and an American soccer player who’s gaping at you.

“That was the hottest man I’ve ever seen in my life,” Mel says, staring at the now-closed doors. “I’m not even into that and… And he… And you said you’d consider getting a drink with him?”

“He made a bet with me,” you argue. “He didn’t ask me out. And even if he did, I didn’t say no.”

Mel looks at you like you’re both insane and the dumbest person alive. “I think we need to get you checked for a fucking concussion, because… what?”

“He didn’t!” you insist, suddenly doubting your own instincts. “Did he?”

The elevator stops and Mel makes a break for the doors. “I can’t even look at you right now.”

You watch helplessly as Mel walks toward your dorm, muttering things about you under her breath that you can barely hear. The second you step off the elevator to follow, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. 

Get some sleep, Fourteen. You’ve earned it. I’ll see you on Wednesday.

You find yourself smiling down at your phone, and for a moment, all thoughts of missed signs and Mel’s words go quiet. you too, you reply. big game tomorrow. and you know i’ll be harassing you like you did to me, so you better bring your a-game.

Before you can open your door to tuck in for the night, you get a response. I’m counting on it.

PRESENT DAY, MID-AUGUST, 2023.

Returning to Chelsea is like having one foot stuck in a dream and the other in a nightmare.

On one hand, it’s nostalgic. It’s loud and boisterous and you can’t escape the blue even if you tried. The field’s in the same pristine condition as you remember and the liveliness of it all engulfs you completely. It makes you think about everything that happened here and how easy it used to be.

But, on the other hand… it makes you think about everything. Those aforementioned easier times were a precursor to your downfall, and it all started here. It was the catalyst. Somehow, this place that had been in your life for an inordinately short period of time still had the same effect on you as it did eight years ago. And when you stare out at the field, you can't help but wonder what if.

As those memories start to creep into your head, you suddenly begin to feel very hot and incredibly overwhelmed. The tunnel you’re standing in is quickly going from something familiar to something more liminal. You swear it’s getting smaller too.

But on a day like today, you know you really can’t be panicking about the past. Your team’s on the field and your coaches are waiting for you to join them. There were more pressing things that were worthy of a panic attack.

You force yourself to take a deep breath and turn to the light emanating from the field at the end of the tunnel. You’d never talked yourself out of a panic attack at the prospect of more important panic, but at this point, you’d take what you could get. Focus on the clamminess of your hands. Focus on how bright the field is and how much it’s hurting your eyes. Focus on running through the new plays you now know like the back of your hand. 

As you walk down the tunnel and go through your maniacal little sense check, you decide to focus on something that you hear. And what you hear snaps you out of whatever state you’re in and makes it all quiet down a little bit. Because as you realize what it is you’re hearing, a very different feeling of… something takes over. 

“—HERE! HE’S THERE! HE’S EVERY-FUCKING-WHERE, ROY KENT! ROY KENT! HE’S—”

It’s nostalgia. It’s dread. It’s pride. It’s irritation. It’s… so many fucking things all at once and you can’t possibly stop yourself from smiling at it. The twinge you feel pulling in your stomach stays with you as you suppress that urge. Damn it.

Despite his final years being spent at Richmond and despite his new coaching status, they still adore him. You’d jokingly called him a “Chelsea Legend” more times than you could count, but it was true. It’s what he was. Not that you’d ever say that out loud.

By the time you make it to the field, Roy’s standing up from the coaches’ bench to show his thanks to the stadium. The cheer is resounding, the song continuing amongst it and you swear under your breath as that feeling lingers. 

It doesn’t go away as he turns to sit back down and meets your gaze instead. And, in typical Roy fashion, while he refused to show any emotion when thanking the city that supported him for years, a fraction of a smile makes its way onto his face when he sees you. 

(God, you hate yourself for noticing.) 

Looking away, you take another steadying breath and make your way to him and the rest of your team. The Richmond pullover you’re sporting rubs against your neck uncomfortably, but before you can fix it, you realize something: the cheers are getting louder. Confused, you look up at the jumbotron, knowing that that type of volume couldn’t possibly be for you. 

Lo and behold, it’s so not for you. It’s for Zava in the owner’s box, who’s staring at the camera like a professional wrestler, egging the crowd on. Right. Of course. Fucking Zava. You take a seat next to Roy as you stare up at the screen. 

“You think we have a chance?” you ask him, and you see him turn to you from the corner of your eye. “I’ve heard Rupert’s been putting in work there.”

Roy huffs. “Fucking twat puts in work everywhere but the things that matter,” he mutters, looking back to Zava. Your brows shoot up in agreement. “Let’s hope Zava’s not stupid enough to fucking fall for it.”

“Rupert knows how to stroke an ego,” you reply, glancing over to Jamie, who was warming up on the field, unsubtly making a very conscious effort to not look up at the screen. “He knows how to get what he wants. Speaking from experience.”

Roy scowls, and it’s a bit deeper than you were expecting. But, before you can dwell on that, he’s moving on. “You alright?” he asks. 

You know it’s meant to be casual on his part, but there’s an undertone of concern that you try to ignore. “Yeah,” you say through a sigh, hesitantly meeting his stare as you feel it boring into your cheek. You sigh again. “I’m good.” There’s a bit more conviction behind your voice this time, and it seems to satisfy him enough. “I’m nervous, but y’know. It’s a game. I’m always nervous before games.”

“I know,” he replies. “I’ve been waiting for you to throw up.”

It’s your turn to scowl now. “I only do that for big games. This is basically summer league.”

(While your sarcasm was flat, it didn’t go unnoticed. This was, in fact, a big game. Perhaps one of the biggest of your life. You’d thrown up twice today. But he didn’t need to know that.)

Roy looks unconvinced, but you’re thankful when he doesn’t press you further. “You know what to do today,” he tells you, and the assurance in his voice is palpable. 

You do know what to do today. You’ve got to prove why you were hired. Be the coach you know you can be. Get over that crippling anxiety that’s eating you alive. But instead of getting back into that, you say, “I know.”

“Fucking shook on it, too. Means you have to do it.”

You refrain from rolling your eyes and slump back into your chair. “Yeah, Roy, I know. I made that rule up. I got it.” With another sigh, you say quietly, “Just let me get there.”

His eyes remain on you. You think he’s going to say something else, but before he can, Ted whistles, calling everyone to attention. As the team rounds up, you and Roy stand.

Instead of saying whatever he was about to, he offers you a nod. 

You got this, he tells you silently. 

And despite the weird, horrendous, painful nether space your relationship currently exists in, the action does make you breathe a little easier. 

You send him one back in thanks.

What doesn’t make you breathe easier, however, is the score at the end of the half. What makes it even worse, is the unprofessional, pedantic Kent Rule that Roy has placed on the team that doesn’t allow anyone to speak in front of Trent Crimm.

Roy’s arms cross over his chest as soon as the writer enters the room, your players quieting down in suit. Your head tips back in annoyance, bracing for whatever’s about to come.

But nothing happens. The team remains quiet and wildly awkward and Trent aptly reads the room. Before he can leave, however, Ted’s calling for him to stay and is asking for Roy to chat.

Roy sends you a glance, then follows his head coach to the back of the room. While the players continue their talks in hushed tones, Beard inches over to where you stand. 

“Did I see a playbook in your bag earlier?” he asks quietly, making you flinch in surprise. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you were listening in to their conversation.”

You shoot Beard a look. “I was not,” you say, even though you so totally were. “And yeah? I, uh, take that with me everywhere.”

Beard nods. “Are they your plays?”

“Most of them,” you reply, shifting uncomfortably. You hadn’t talked about that book with anyone since you coached your college girls, and anyone you had shown it to over at West Ham hadn’t given it the time of day. “Why?”

“I want to see them,” he says, shrugging at your surprised expression. “If you want to show them to someone, that is.”

A small smile pulls at your parted lips, and you nod back at him. “That’d be—”

“CRIMM!”

Roy’s voice startles you again, and this time, it gets Beard too. You both turn to see Roy walking back toward the showers, Trent hesitantly following in tow. Ted offers a small smile to both you and Beard as he returns.

“That’d be great,” you whisper to Beard, finishing your sentence. “Thank you.”

The next few minutes are just as awkward as the previous ones. No one knows exactly what to do, or how the conversation behind you is going to play out. You know how hard it is for Roy to let go of things. Forgiveness was never something he excelled at, especially when it came to more personal topics. Not that you were any better at it.

You look around the locker room, watching each of your players whisper animatedly amongst each other. You were down by one and there were no signs of giving up. Each of them knew they were still in this. Even more so, you hadn’t heard any unkind or unsupportive words spoken since you got into the room. 

Your mind takes you back to the second summer scrimmage you coached at West Ham. You were also down by one at the half, and the atmosphere couldn't have been more different. Blame was being shoved down everyone’s throat, clinging wherever it would stick. Nathan Shelley had reprimanded three players within a minute and all of this was for a scrimmage. Nothing about that game mattered or counted. This, of course, was remedied the second you started winning, and the locker room was a wildly different place when you ended up winning by three.

While West Ham seemed to like each other, there was no sense of camaraderie there. It was nice, but nothing was kind. Richmond seemed like a family. You were starting to see that now. 

It wasn’t something you were able to embrace right now, but there was a growing piece of you that was… hopeful that you’d be able to at some point.

At that realization, you feel your body relax for a moment. Only for it to tense back up again as you’re scared for a third time, by Roy and Trent coming back to the group. As soon as he gives the green light to the team that Trent’s safe, the locker room erupts into relieved chaos.

Jamie starts shouting about the passing lanes. Sam yells out something about Chelsea’s lack of defense. More and more voices begin to speak up to offer their insight, and while they’re all on the right path, nobody’s said the right thing yet.

You can feel the words rising in your throat. Your mind continues to spin. Every thought you’d held on to, every tip you wanted to say, every nerve you had about saying the wrong thing was bubbling within you and you could feel yourself about to burst. 

No more being quiet. No more being afraid. No more being passive.

I know that you know them on the field. But they fucking don’t. And they won’t know it until you fucking show them.

You can feel your hands begin to shake back and forth in anticipation of whatever it is you’re about to say. However, you don’t realize that someone’s been watching you until they step beside you.

“C’mon,” they chide, making you jump, “Fucking say it.”

You don’t have to look to know that it’s Roy, but you still turn your head. His eyes fall from yours, to your hands, then back to your face. He’s familiar enough with your tells to know what’s going on. One part of you is grateful to have that. The other part wants to kill him.

The expression you wear reads hesitance, and you’ve only got about three minutes before the team needs to head back out.

As he continues to stare at you, you can hear his voice in your head. This is your job. You signed up for this. You’re a coach. So fucking coach. 

You take a deep, shuddering breath and ball up your fists to stop the shaking. Fucking say it.

So, amidst the noise and the yelling and the bickering, you do.

“EVERYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

The silence that takes over the locker room is immediate and deafening. Every single person stares at you in shock, jaws agape and eyes wide as if they couldn’t imagine looking anywhere else. 

Every person but one. And if you were to turn and shake the sudden anxiety of having all attention on you, you’d see him smiling softly to himself, something like pride gracing his typically stoic expression.

It takes a moment before you realize they’re all waiting for you to say something. You glance over at Ted, who, while still a bit taken aback, nods at you encouragingly. 

You’ve got the floor, Coach. Let’s do it.

“You’re all right,” you begin, motioning to each of them as you speak. “Yes, Jamie, they’re blocking the passing lanes. It’s a straight-up wall once you get into the midfield. And yeah, Sam they’re not marking you guys. Because they don’t have to. You’re all just…” You search for the word, throwing a hand up when you land on, “...running around aimlessly out there because you’re trying to see what’s going to work. But you know what will?” 

They all just continue to stare at you. Whether or not it’s because nobody has an answer or because they can’t believe you’re actually talking like this, you don’t care. Because you answer for them. “You make them mark you. Force them to break down that wall. Draw them out, and then pass through the cracks,” you tell them, offering a small grin as you continue. “I know you guys. And I know it hasn’t seemed like it because I’ve been… quieter. But I know the type of team you are, and each of you are so, incredibly good at what you do. You’re way better than what you’re doing out there. Like, way better.”

Your team remains quiet, but you know they’ve snapped out of their surprised trance because they’re smiling at you. And they look on board. Your grin grows as you notice. “So, let’s go out there and start this season off right, huh?”

That gets them up and out of their seats. The boys erupt in a cheer, clapping as they gather around in a circle, each of them putting their hands in the middle. Dani’s voice echoes through the locker room as he yells, “For Coach’s first game!”

Another round of cheers follows before Ted looks over at you. “Couldn’t have said it better myself,” he tells you, and you feel a sense of relief wash over you. “Alright. I second everything she said. Now get out there and show them what you’re made of. Okay, four on three!”

Hands go up after their chant, and the team runs out of the room with a type of energy that you’re not sure you’ve seen before. You hang back for a moment to take a breath.

A hand clamps down on your shoulder, and you turn to see Ted smiling at you. “Nice to hear your voice, Ace,” he says, squeezing it softly. “I hope we’ll hear it some more.”

You send him a thankful smile, nodding in affirmation. “You will.”

Ted squeezes your shoulder once more, heading out behind the team. Beard nods in your direction, looking vaguely impressed in the way that only he can, before following suit. 

That leaves you and Roy in the locker room, and somehow, for the first time, you feel like you can completely relax. A shuddering breath leaves your lips, chest heaving down as you do so. You hear Roy huff when he moves to stand next to you. 

“Well,” he says. “That was one fucking way to do it.”

“I have no idea what I said,” you tell him. “I blacked out after I yelled at everyone to shut up.”

You get a huff of a laugh out of Roy for that one. “You did fine.” He doesn’t miss your dubious look. “I’m serious. You did well.”

“Yeah?” you ask.

Roy nods, expression turning a bit more earnest. “Yeah, Fourteen. You did well.”

The nickname makes a lump form in your throat, and it takes everything in you to ignore it. It’d been a while since you’d heard that one like this. It settles like cement in your stomach and you wish you could shake the feeling. He keeps his gaze on yours until you blink away, focusing on anything but him.

“Thanks,” you manage. Again, because he’s being nice, you suppose you can be too. “And, uh… thanks for pushing me. To do that, I mean.”

Roy nods, albeit a bit uncomfortably. “You needed it.”

“Yeah,” you say again. You hold his stare for one more second before returning his nod, the tension in the air easing within the moment. “Let’s go win a game, Coach.”

You don’t see the way Roy hides a smile as you turn to exit, the reflexive words of ‘not your coach’ on his tongue. But, he bites them back because, well… he is a coach. And so are you.

And as strange as all of this has been for the last week, it hasn't actually felt real to him until now. You’re here. You’re here and working with him and you’re not going anywhere.

The idea of it doesn’t make Roy panic as much as he thought it would.

(Though, unfortunately, that idea is what gets Roy to freak out. But he figures he’s got a bit of time to work that one out.)

LONDON OLYMPICS, EARLY AUGUST, 2012.

“You ever date a swimmer?”

It’s a question you pose to Roy seemingly out of the blue in the middle of one of your many footwork drills of the night. It was all he’d wanted to focus on for tonight’s training session, especially with your quarter-final game against New Zealand on Friday. While the idea of practicing again tomorrow was still up in the air, Roy had insisted on this practice being solely about fixing up what he viewed as your one weakness.

Roy looks up from your feet in confusion. “What?”

“Have you ever dated a swimmer?” you repeat, enunciating your words in a mildly obnoxious manner. “Perhaps a French person? But any swimmer will do.”

He’s still staring at you like you have three heads. “The fuck are you on about?”

You throw your hands up in a shrug. “I’m just asking. I find it hard to believe that amongst the slew of hook-ups I’ve read about, you haven’t slept with a swimmer.”

Those furrowed brows raise in interest at your statement. “Oh, you’ve read about those?”

Your eyes roll. “So not the point of what I was saying. Answer my question.”

“Foxtrot,” he says, watching you look at him in surprise. “Now shut the fuck up and finish your drills.”

“You really want to use our newly-established one Foxtrot of the hour on a simple topic like this?” you question.

Apparently, he doesn’t. “No, I haven’t dated a swimmer,” he finally tells you, exasperated. He glances down at your feet. “Stay on your toes. That fucking left foot of yours is always fucking flat.” Still staring at your feet and ignoring the way you roll your eyes, he inquires, “Why the fuck are you asking? And why do they have to be French?”

“I think I got asked out by one yesterday,” you say. Roy’s gaze meets yours with a speed that nearly makes you stumble in the middle of your drill. “But I can’t tell if he was being a weird little jerk or if he’s just French.”

While his lips twitch up at the last part of your statement, he seems more stuck on the first. “You think you were asked out?”

“Okay, it was strange,” you reply, sounding a tad defensive and slightly breathless. “He was kind of like, negging me? Which, you know, I’m now used to because I started hanging out with you.” Roy shoots you a look, but you carry on anyway. “But he was all, ‘oh yeah, you’re good. But not as good as the French team.’ And then he was like, ‘how about this, if France beats you guys, you have to buy me a drink. But if you win, I’ll buy you one.’ So, I’m kind of confused.” You stop your footwork as Roy’s stopwatch goes off and you take a moment to catch your breath. “And I’m honest enough to admit that I was only entertaining it because he was hot, but I truly can’t tell if he’s flirting with me and asking me out because he thinks we’ll win, or if he’s trying to get free drinks out of me because he thinks we’ll lose.”

“He was asking you out,” Roy says bluntly, continuing to look unimpressed. “He did a fucking horrendous job of it, but yeah. He’s interested.”

You nod, absorbing this for a second before throwing your hands up. “Why do guys do that?” 

“Do what?” he asks. “Ask girls out?”

Your expression quickly matches his. “Yes, exactly. I’d love for you to explain what happens when a man loves a woman, Roy,” you deadpan, biting back a smile as you see one grow on his lips. “No, dickhead. Why do guys think that… that’s the way to ask someone out? Like, I love a little banter as much as the next girl, but you gotta be good at it. And if you’re not good at it…” You shrug. “I don’t know. If you’re bad at flirting, you’re bad at flirting. That’s okay. That just means you’ve just gotta be direct with how you’re feeling.”

There’s a brief moment where Roy seems to consider this, but shakes his head soon after. “Some don’t know how.”

“Well, they should take classes from you or something,” you reply. “Because you’re the most direct guy I know.”

Roy’s scowl deepens. “Thanks.”

“That’s a compliment,” you say, pointing at him. His expression doesn’t change. “I’m serious. I appreciate it. You’re never afraid to tell me shit. It’s admirable.” A wry grin spreads across your face. “Flirting with you must be a three-sentence interaction.”

He casts his eyes up to the night sky. “Fuck’s sake, you’re on one tonight.”

“No, I’m curious. How do you do it?” you press with raised brows. “You told me when we met that if you were trying to ‘chat me up,’ I’d know it. So, c’mon. How does the magic happen?”

Though you were sure that it was impossible, Roy somehow looks even less impressed. “Foxtrot,” he all but snaps at you, making a low noise at the way you crush your lips together to hold back a laugh. “And I’m fucking serious about it this time. Using my one for the hour, or whatever the fuck.”

“Fine, fine,” you say, honoring your established rule with a surrender. “You don’t want to waste your succinct flirting charms on me, I get it. I won’t push you.”

Roy scoffs under his breath, fidgeting with his stopwatch. “They wouldn’t be.”

The words make you pause. “What?”

The stopwatch in his hand beeps as he finishes fiddling with the buttons. “You said they’d be wasted on you.” His eyes flick up to catch yours. “I can guarantee it wouldn’t be a waste.”

He speaks so casually that you almost don’t know what to do. You can’t tell what he means. Would his efforts not be a waste because he… likes you? That he wouldn’t even try if he wasn’t interested? Or is he just so confident in his abilities that he thinks he could get you that easily? That he could turn it on within minutes and make you rethink your entire, weird little friendship that you’ve started over this week? Because, to your knowledge, Roy hasn’t shown any sort of sign that he’s interested in you.

Or has he? Was Mel right again? Have you been reading this situation wrong? Was his bickering and negging his strange way of trying to flirt with you? Getting in your ear during drills? Texting you during games? Calling you an anomaly?

You nearly shake the thought out of your head. He’s Roy Kent. He’s quite literally known for being stoic, for his confrontational personality, and for his hotheaded tendencies. You’ve seen all of those traits since you started training together and nothing’s tipped you off that it could be anything more than friendly. Or whatever his version of friendly is.

You’ve also seen the kinds of women he dates. They’re actresses, singers, models, heiresses-- rich London elite. The shitty little one-bedroom you’ve got back home cries out in shame in the back of your mind. The Team USA Nike campaign that you were barely a part of for the World Cup taunts you. Actress, singer, model, and heiress you were not.

You’re not sure if he sees the look of confusion on your face, but you turn away before you can confirm anything. “Right,” you say, drawing the word out slightly. You kick the ball you’d almost forgotten about toward him. “Anyway. I’m bored of these drills. I need to do something else or I’ll go insane.”

Roy receives your pass, placing his foot on top of the ball with a quirked brow. There’s a hint of a smirk on his face as he attempts to gauge your reaction, momentarily throwing you off. “When have you ever had a say about what goes on in these sessions?”

“Well, never. But I think that says more about your coaching style than it does about anything else, despot.”

Roy rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time that night. He’s found that it’s something he tends to do frequently when you’re around. “I told you that footwork’s the only thing we’re working on tonight.”

“Yeah, but I’m bored,” you repeat. “Don’t you have like… I don’t know. Games we can play?”

“Games?” he parrots. He almost sounds offended. “What, are you five years old?”

You completely ignore his comment and gasp, pointing at him. “Let’s play knockout.”

“Again, I ask, are you fucking five years old?”

You look at him, pouting as you slouch over. “C’mon,” you practically whine. “It’s totally a footwork drill. But it’s fun. And it’s better than you just standing there menacingly with a stopwatch like you’re Frankie Dunn.”

Roy looks at you, then hesitates. “You’re a terrible fucking negotiator.”

That moment of hesitation lets you know that you’ve almost got him. While you may be a terrible negotiator, you’re something else: observant. The thing you’ve learned about Roy is that he physically can’t back down from a challenge. You know that there’s something ironic in that, but you figure that’s why you two have worked together so well so far.

So, your eyes narrow and you allow yourself to step forward to do just that; challenge him. “And you’ve got South Korea in a couple days. From what I saw last night, you need the practice.”

Roy’s head tilts, the beginnings of a dangerous smile twisting the corners of his lips. “Is that right?”

“I recall a lost possession toward the end of the first half that easily could have been avoided,” you say, sticking your leg out to kick the ball out from beneath his foot. The faux passive tone you’ve taken on nearly dissolves at the way his eyes darken. “For the amount that Chelsea's Finest goes on and on about footwork, you’d think he’d be better at it.”

Something between you two shifts the second those words leave your mouth. You’re not sure if it’s the way he’s looking at you (or continues to look at you, God, you don’t think he’s blinked yet) or if it’s your new proximity, but things feel completely different from when you started. The stare you’re holding is charged. It’s not just a challenge anymore— there’s something else there. It makes your mind whirl.

Roy’s voice is low when he asks, “What would you have done differently?”

It’s not what you were expecting, but it offers you a reason to look away from his piercing gaze, take a breath, and shrug. “I don’t know,” you say. “Crossed my mark up a little. Probably would have sent it up the field. Your striker was practically begging to be passed to.” You glance back up at him, with a smile that borders on teasing. “Definitely wouldn’t have hit my mark as hard as you did when you lost the ball.”

“He fucking dove,” is his response, sounding only slightly annoyed. But, when he sees you chuckle, he comes back to, “Who was open upfield?”

His question is genuine, like he’s actually interested in hearing your answer. “I don’t know. Didn’t recognize him. I think he’s a rookie,” you reply with yet another shrug. “But if you led him a little bit, he would have been open.” Roy’s brow draws as he hums something affirmative. When you realize he’s actually thinking about the play, considering what you’re saying, you can’t help but throw in, “Plays like that happen when you’re thinking ahead, Coach.”

Your tone has Roy glaring down at you, and you can feel the look sear through you. “And the goal that happened immediately after that was all instinct.”

“Maybe,” you say noncomittally. "But it could have been better if you all had thought ahead."

That tension between you shifts again, but this time, it’s in a way you’re really not expecting. When Roy looks back at you, there’s something disbelieving in his eyes. As if he can’t figure you out. But it’s also something almost… fond. “You really watched the game last night.”

It’s a question that comes out sounding like a statement. You’re not sure why he looks so surprised or why the emotional state of this conversation keeps going back and forth, but you say the only thing you can think to: the truth.

“You watch mine,” you reply as if the answer was obvious. “And believe it or not, I like watching you play.” Roy blinks at you, obviously not expecting that. For good measure, you add, “Being on the field actually gives you a reason to be a dick, so.”

That same searing stare returns, and it fixates on you long enough to make you itch. You don’t break it, but you rock back and forth on your heels, thinking for a second, maybe you said the wrong thing. Maybe it was a little too real, or a little too friendly.

But before you can sweat it too much, Roy dips his head. “Fuck,” he mutters, shaking his head in disbelief. “Fucking hell, fine. One round of knockout, you fucking child.”

“Seriously?” you ask, not even trying to hide the excitement in your voice.

“Yeah. Get the ball. Let’s go.”

You beam at him, running to go grab the ball you’d kicked away from him previously. When you turn back, you find he’s moving to get his own. “If I’d known you’re this easily swayed by flattery, I would have started being way nicer to you earlier.”

“Don’t push it,” he calls out. Despite the fact he’s not facing you, you can picture the look on his face. “And don’t be fucking nice to me. I want to see you pissed.”

“But we’re playing knockout,” you say, as he turns and kicks his football in your direction. “How can I be pissed?”

Roy smirks. “I’m sure I can find a way.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can too. But why do you want me pissed?”

“Because you play better when you’ve got something to prove,” he tells you. Then, he shrugs. “That, and… well, I wasn’t lying.” 

You scrunch your brow. “About what?”

“It’s a good fucking look on you,” he says, meeting your gaze once more. “I might have to piss you off more often.”

Oh. Right, right, right. Totally. Ignoring the way that that makes your cheeks go warm, you reply, “Well, like you said. I’m sure you’ll find a way.”

That’s when Roy smiles at you. It’s accompanied by a chuckle and while it’s not a full grin, it’s something warm and mildly sweet. However, for the first time, you’re stuck by how good he looks. You’d always thought he was good-looking, but you’d never been attracted to him. But for some reason, right here, right now, some switch has flipped. 

The realization churns your stomach and makes you physically look away from him. “C’mon, let’s play,” you say, hoping your forced nonchalance hides anything you’re currently feeling. “I like watching you lose.”

Roy huffs, sounding just a bit incredulous. “Whatever you say.”

PRESENT DAY, MID-AUGUST, 2023.

You walk away from the Chelsea pitch with a tie. And frankly, you’ll take it.

You’ve never seen a team more excited about a draw. They’re rowdy as they gather back into the locker room, and you feel a hint of a grin rising as you watch them from the hall. The petty part of your brain again has you comparing what this would have been like if you still worked at West Ham. Shelley would have berated your players (and likely his coaching staff) about how pathetic a draw was. West Ham was the superior team of the league, after all. Their record had to show for it.

It’s then that a sudden realization comes crashing down on you. Fuck. West Ham. PR. You have to do press with Ted.

As if he could hear his name rattling around in your mind, your head coach steps in beside you. He nudges your elbow with his. “You alright there, Ace?”

You nod quickly, like that’ll hide the panic you know is written across your face. “Yeah, Coach. I’m alright.”

When he folds his hands behind his back, you know he isn’t buying what you’re selling. “You still okay to do this with me?” he asks, motioning to the press room down the hall.

“I’ve done press before,” you reply, though your mildly defensive tone tells him that you’re not certain if you’re assuring him or yourself. At the way he dips his head, you sigh in defeat. “I’ve done this before. Just… never at this level. Or for these reasons.”

Ted nods in understanding. “You know you don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

“I know,” you say, because you do.

“And I’ll be there beside you the whole time. I can take over whenever you need me to.” He nudges you again. “I ain’t too bad with all this press stuff. And I’m more than happy to make a fool of myself if it gets too tough. Really give ‘em something to talk about.”

That gets you to look up at him wearily. “I’m scared to know what that means.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t think we’ll get there,” he says, earning a chuckle from you in response. A beat passes before he looks at you again. “You ready?”

A long, sharp sigh exits your body. When you inhale, you turn back to him. “Yeah.”

“Good,” he says, nodding toward the room. “Let’s go quiet ‘em all down.”

You surprise yourself with an involuntary smile, but it gives you the confidence to follow him.

The press room is abuzz as you approach it and they get even more lively when you enter. You can hear your name being said from every direction and the chaos makes your hands shake. You’ve done this before, you tell yourself. You used to be good at these. It’s part of being a coach. You wanted this. You know how to do this.

Ted, who’s been leading the way, steps out to allow you to go up the stairs first. You clasp your hands together as you walk up, praying that this isn’t the moment your feet choose to fail you and make you trip. Luckily, you avoid disaster and make your way to the further of the two chairs on stage.

You look out into the sea of reporters, eye each of the cameras, and continue to play with your fingers as if it’s the answer to calming your nerves. You don’t realize things have gotten started until you hear Ted’s voice.

“Alright, alright, alright,” he greets the room, and you can’t help but envy how easily the words come out. “Afternoon everyone. What have you got for us today?” All hands in the room immediately go up, each reporter’s eyes shifting from you, to Ted, then back to you. Everyone’s got the same question on their minds. Everyone, except the guy that Ted picks, apparently. “Yeah, Alec. What do you got for us?”

Alec The Reporter stands. “How are we feeling about starting the season with a draw, Coach?”

Thank you, Alec, for starting with the easy question. “Well, I mean, I think we both would have liked a win,” Ted replies, looking over at you. You try your best at a smile and nod along. “But we’re proud of our boys. They turned it around after that first half, due mostly to the insight of our new coach over here. So, I think we’re feeling good about this start.” 

Alec sits down, satisfied with the answer. Before Ted calls on the next reporter, he glances at you. You nod once. You’re ready.

Ted points at a blonde woman toward the back of the room. “Sarah, how are we doing?”

Sarah The Reporter stands now. “Very well, thank you.” Her attention is immediately on you. “Coach,” she says, addressing you. “How was your first game with Richmond?”

Easing it into it, are we? You clear your throat and keep that smile plastered on your face. You can practically hear Roy yelling from the locker room for you to loosen up. “Not echo Coach Lasso, but I’m feeling good. Definitely would have liked a win, but it’s not a loss.”

You don’t think you could have given a more generic, neutral answer if you had tried. Maybe simply answering with ‘good’ would have been worse, but you doubt it. Sarah’s not done with you. “I was more referencing the dynamics of the team in your first game. The culture, if you will.”

Then come right out and say that then, don’t be weird and coy. You fight back a scowl and in doing so, your grin cracks slightly. The phrasing isn’t lost on you. Dynamics. Culture. They’re all words Rupert used just days ago. Stick to the script. Talking points. Don’t let them bait you.

“The Richmond culture’s definitely different,” you reply, perhaps putting too much emphasis on the word. To save yourself, you add, “But I think that’s to be expected when coaching Men's sports. Bit of a different world over here.” You offer a shrug, hoping your smile returns to what it was. “I’m very grateful to the Richmond team and staff for welcoming me with open arms into the warm environment they’ve created.”

You hope Rebecca and Keeley are somewhere cheering you on. That was sweet, neutral, and non-confrontational. Everything you wanted to be. Everything you should be in this line of questioning.

Ted nods at Sarah, cueing her to sit down. He points to a reporter in the front. “Marcus, yeah.”

It’s Marcus The Reporter’s turn to stand. And he comes out swinging. “No use in beating around the bush,” he says, eyes on you. “Do you have any response to Rupert Mannion’s comments about you and your tenure at West Ham?”

This is it. You feel Ted’s foot nudge yours encouragingly as you nod at Marcus and take a breath. Just as rehearsed. You got this.

“There’s not much to say that Mr. Mannion hasn’t already,” you answer slowly. “Unfortunately, some things like that just don’t work out. I too was not happy with the note that we ended on and wish it could have worked out our differences. But that’s all it was. Differences. There aren’t any hard feelings or any sort of bad blood between us. West Ham is a great team that I was honored to be a part of for the time that I was allowed. I’m sure they’ll have a fantastic season and can’t wait to meet them in a couple of weeks.”

You nearly let out a sigh of relief when you finish, thankful that that’s fucking done. The lies don’t sit right on your tongue and feel as though they’re rotting your teeth, but you don’t care. You got it all out, didn’t slip up or trip up, and can hopefully put this to bed.

However, unfortunately for you, Marcus doesn’t seem to be satisfied. Because he’s got a follow-up question you’re not at all prepared for. “And what of Tom MacDonald’s recent comments?”

The world stops. It comes to a complete, emergency-braked fucking halt and you feel as though someone’s punched you in the stomach. You feel like you’ve been ambushed, but you know that if you could have been prepared for this, you would have been. This must have happened today. Perhaps, even moments before this. You can feel Ted’s eyes on the side of your face almost immediately.

He… made comments? He spoke about you?

You can feel your throat constricting, but manage to get a couple words out in a relatively neutral-sounding tone. “I’m not sure what comments you’re referring to.”

“In his post-game interview about a half-hour ago,” Marcus says, glancing down at his notes to read. “He said, quote, ‘My best wishes are to Miss USA and her new Richmond team. I hope she finds her place with them, as I don’t think she ever really found hers here. But, you know, I guess you can’t really know until you really try to get to know the lads in the locker room and in the Coaches' Offices, huh?’”

Your breath’s been stolen from you. You can feel your nose and eyes start to burn as you stare Marcus down, steeling the look on your face. Refusing to show any type of emotion or reaction to that, you gather yourself.

What a fucking prick. What an absolute, horrendously evil, fucking asshole he is. You can imagine the look on his face when he said that. The smarmy fucking smile that accompanied it, the casual nonchalance of which he spewed that last part out with. You want to burn him. You want to destroy his life, his career, everything. The audacity he was to even bring up the locker room and the… 

You feel physically ill. You could throw up on the spot, but there’s something in you that’s keeping you from doing so. As the silence in the room festers, you feel Ted’s foot tap against yours again.

Do you need me to make a fool of myself? His eyes ask as you meet them. 

Quickly, you shake your head. You can do this. You’ve done this before. You used to be good at these. Don’t let him get to you like this. Don’t let either of them win.

You know you won’t come forward with what happened. You can’t. But you weren’t going to sit on your hands anymore. You wouldn’t be neutral anymore. Neutral. That was the word of the day. 

Fuck the word.

You allow another moment of silence to pass before you blink and refocus on Marcus. “I…” you begin, collecting yourself. You can feel the anger rise within you and you know it shows in your eyes. You’ve never been able to hide that. “I do, actually.”

(Somewhere in the Chelsea facilities, Rebecca Walton and Roy Kent are glued to different TVs broadcasting your conference. Rebecca’s unsure if she should be praying that you’ll tear West Ham apart or writhing in fear at the idea of what’s about to come out of your mouth. Roy, however, clocked the look in your eye immediately and can’t remember the last time he’s smiled this big.)

“As I said previously,” you start, straightening your back with a new, harder, more confident tone, “I’m also disappointed with the way that things ended between me and my former team. I also wish things could have been different and that I could have found my place. However, Mr. Mannion was correct when he assumed that I experienced a bit of a culture shock when I joined the club. However, I can’t blame anyone or anything for that but my own expectations for what I assumed AFC Football was going to be.” You offer a smaller, slightly more pleasant grin to the reporters and cameras. “But I can confirm that Richmond has met all of those aforementioned expectations within my first week. I’m excited to continue my journey with them and can’t wait to see where we go this season.”

Hands immediately fly up in response to your answer, follow-up questions galore. You glance over at Ted for a moment (who looks like he’s unsure whether he should be proud of you or sweating this), then suddenly find that a group of people are being ushered into the press room. You eyes lock with the man in the center, and he stares right back at you with an intensity you’re not sure you’ve seen before. Zava.

“And on that note,” you say, quieting everyone down. Relief washes over you now that you have an excuse to leave the room, “I think we’ve run out of time for questions concerning me. We’ve got something much more important to cover.”

When they all see that you’re referring to Zava, the room erupts into even more chaos. You couldn’t possibly be out of your chair faster, ready to make a break for it, and run to the bathroom. Ted’s on your heels as you exit, running in front of you to stop you as you make it to the hall.

“Woah, woah, slow down there,” he says with a soft laugh. “Runnin’ out of there faster than Tom Cruise in— well, any of the Mission Impossible movies, I guess.” You don’t meet his eye, or offer him any sort of pity laugh, something he catches immediately. “You alright, Ace?”

“Yeah,” you say shortly. God, you don’t want to cry in front of your head coach. “I’m good.”

He sees right through you. God, why is everyone at Richmond so fucking in touch with other people’s emotions? “Is there something you want to talk about? Maybe something I should know about—”

“No.” It’s a conversation ender and Ted steps back from you. You squeeze your eyes shut, wanting nothing less than to deal with this right now. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” With a deep breath, you move away from him. “I’m fine. Really. Thank you for your help in there, Coach. And thank you for a wonderful first week.”

You even don’t hear what Ted has to say in response to that before you’re beelining for the bathroom and locking yourself in a stall, finally allowing the tears that had been welling in your eyes to fall.

Zava announces that he'll be joining Richmond and thirty minutes, later you find yourself in a 'Coaches Group Chat' reading a message from Ted.

After you'd collected yourself, you had the full intention of pretending like everything was normal. You refused to let him win or get the better of your emotions, or fucking... whatever. So, the second you received that text, you immediately signed yourself up for whatever Ted wanted you to do. 

Coaches’ Celebration at Crown and Anchor, the text from him reads. Be there or be square.

However, apparently, you’re the only one who’s concerned with being square, because none of your fellow coaches have shown up yet. There’s a group of three guys sitting at a table in the corner, yelling things at the screen every few minutes. You see a couple who are throwing darts at the end of the bar. There’s a lone man with a pint at the hightop by the door, texting away on his phone. But Ted, Beard, and Roy were nowhere to be found.

The bartop’s nearly abandoned, so you choose a seat in the middle, making sure to reserve three extras. When the woman behind the bar turns to serve you, you can tell she immediately recognizes you, and the smile she offers is warm.

“Good showing today,” she tells you. Then, she shrugs. “Would have liked a win.”

A surprised laugh escapes you. “You and me both.”

“What’ll it be?” she asks.

You hesitate for a moment, glancing at the door. “Um, I’m meeting people here. I—”

“Oh. Right. That’s tonight,” she says, with a knowing look in her eye. Your brow scrunches. “When he gets here, call me over. My name’s Mae.”

Before you can question that cryptic fucking sentence or correct her and let her know that you’re meeting people (plural) here, the pub door opens. Roy walks through, nodding once he sees you.

He grabs the stool to your left. “Nice press conference today,” he says in greeting, taking a seat. 

The teasing note in his voice makes you scowl. “Shut up. I was nervous.”

“I liked the part where you called Rupert a lying prick who needs to keep his mouth shut.”

“That’s not even close to what I said.”

Roy chuckles. “You might as well have. That was a media-trained ‘fuck you’ if I’ve ever seen one.”

God, you could really use that drink now. “I wasn’t even trained for that one,” you admit sheepishly. ”I literally don’t know where that came from. I was like, possessed by some bitchy politician or something.”

“She’d have my vote.”

“She shouldn’t. She’d start a global thermonuclear war because someone implied that she was difficult to work with.” You make a face at Roy as he chuckles. “Besides, I don’t think a Roy Kent endorsement would do her any favors.”

“Probably not,” Roy agrees. “Only person I’ve ever endorsed was you, and look where we are.”

You roll your eyes, casting them to the door. “Oh, my God. Okay, where are Ted and Beard?”

“They’re not coming,” a voice says as they round the bar. Mae stands before you once more, wiping her hands on a rag. 

You and Roy stare at her. “What do you mean they’re not coming?” you ask.

“I mean, they’re not coming,” Mae repeats matter-of-factly. Confusion takes over your expression. “They lured you two here and I’ve been given a ridiculous amount of money to keep you here until the two of you…” She glances down at her phone. “Fix your issues and…” Mae squints at the text she’s reading from. “...’Have whatever conversation you’ve been tiptoeing around.’”

By the time Mae looks up, you’re gaping at her and Roy’s already out of his seat. 

“You’re kidding,” you say faintly, praying that she’ll answer yes.

You have no such luck. “I’m not.”

“Fuck this,” Roy mutters. “I’m not getting fucking trapped at a fucking pub with you on a Sunday night because our stupid fucking team doesn’t understand fucking boundaries.”

You throw a thumb over your shoulder in the direction he’s looking to leave. “I second that. No offense, you seem lovely,” you tell Mae, “but I’m not staying here.”

“Unfortunately, you are,” Mae responds, nodding to the man who was sitting alone at the hightop, who stands up to block the door. He’s got to be the tallest man you’ve ever seen, and he’s built. You have no idea where he came from, but the sight of him alone gives you pause.

Roy’s on that same wavelength because he stops in his tracks, glaring at him. “This is fucking insane,” he says, looking back over to Mae.

“I agree,” she says, then nods to the window. “Take it up with them.”

You follow Mae’s line of sight to see Ted and Beard, sharing a pair of binoculars to stare at the two of you When they realize they’ve been spotted, Beard slowly removes the binoculars from his eyes and glares at Roy. Ted at least offers the dignity of a pity wave.

“Whatever they’re paying you,” you begin. “Roy will double it.”

Roy narrows his eyes. “I will?”

“Yes. You will.”

“Why the fuck am I the one paying? We’ve got the same fucking salary now.”

You whip around in your seat to glare at him, exasperation in your voice as you say, “Oh, my God, you played in the AFC for twenty years. I was in women’s sports for thirteen. We’re not even close to the same tax bracket.”

Roy considers this for approximately two seconds, then turns back to Mae. “Whatever they’re paying you, I’ll fucking double it.”

Mae shrugs, clearly not budging. “I’m a woman of my word, Mr. Kent,” she replies. Then, she motions to the clock on the wall. “I’ve promised to keep you here for at least an hour. What you do after that is none of my business.”

As Mae walks away, you stare at the bartop, truly unable to accept that this is happening in your present reality. There’s no way you’re doing this— no way that Roy’s doing this. This is fucking ridiculous, it’s wildly unprofessional, and—

—And Roy’s sitting down. You slowly raise your head to watch him pull out the barstool, slump into the chair, and put his face in his hands as if he can’t believe he’s actually going through with this. 

He’s giving in. He’s not putting up a fight. He’s obeying the wishes of his friends, he’s resigned to the cause, he’s… he’s putting himself in a position to have the conversation you two have been dreading since you began at Richmond.

Oh, fuck. Fuck. This is really happening.

You glance back over to the window where Beard stands, and he lowers his binoculars when he sees you looking. He sends you a simple, affirmative nod, raising the device to his eyes once more. 

“I assume you’ll be needing those drinks now,” Mae says from the end of the bar, two pint glasses in her hands.

You don’t think you or Roy have ever said ‘yes’ faster.

TAGLIST: @dark-academia-slut @tegan8314, @csigeoblue, @confessionsofatotaldramaslut, @thatonedogwithablog, @hawkeyeharrington, @jamieolivia27, @seatbacksandtraytables, @luvr-bunnyy

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Can we get some more dark Raiden 👉👈

(ignore this if it makes u uncomfy at all)

Like what is like with a darling who needs a wheelchair regularly, maybe the darling has a genetic malfunction with their legs idk

(based off of my legs but it's up to u)

A/N: Hii thank you so much for requesting! I absolutely do not mind writing this. We need that representation in the writing department. 😫🫶I’ve had this in my drafts for a while because I’m very cautious to hopefully not offend or make anyone uncomfortable with this. Please *respectfully* correct me if I got something wrong or may have accidentally used offensive language. I mean no harm to anyone and I want to be able to respectfully give representation for everyone!

That being said this focuses specifically on being disabled and the changes it makes in the relationship.

Warnings: Toxic and abusive behaviors, stalking, slight patronizing/ infantilization, over protectiveness, ect.

Masterlist

Requests: open 24/7

I don’t really think that the relationship would change too much other than that I think sometimes Raiden would unintentionally be a bit patronizing. (But then again when is !dark¡ Raiden not???)

Raiden loves you a lot and he knows that you’re just as capable as the others despite your disability. Your resilience and intellect alone was enough to win his evil little heart buuuttt…that doesn’t change the fact that he’s still a bit flawed in his ways

We all know this dark side of him is extremely authoritarian so he can’t help but be a little too overbearing when it comes to you.

I want to start off with some of the good things first though.

!dark¡ Raiden is sweet in the ways that matter I think. If you’re having a flare up or in pain. He doesn’t mind dropping everything to come to your aide. Even if the medication isn’t working. He’d hold and massage you until you’re feeling better.

The other nice thing about Raiden is his thick skin. You don’t phase him even on your worst days, not even when you’re a bit snippy do to your pain and frustration. He won’t take it personally. Staying up with you all night also isn’t a hassle for him in the slightest. He actually appreciates that his darling yearns for him when they aren’t feeling too well.

If physical therapy is something that you partake in, he’s eager to learn and help you the best ways he can.

Secretly searching for ways to alleviate some aches you may face with your disability, even if that means going against the elders and seeking help from darker powers.

He’s also unapologetically obsessed with you, he feels no shame when you’re beside him. He wouldn’t wish for you to be any different from how you are now.

Raiden would be just as jealous and possessive over you as he would be with an abled body S/O.

Speaking of this, he has no issues with disposing of anyone who has anything disparaging to say about you.

Oh and he especially hates when someone touches you or your wheelchair. He knows how uncomfortable it makes you when people try to wheel you or lean/sit on it without your permission. This easily sets him off.

It doesn’t matter who it is that touches it, how dare they disrespect you like that? Have they have no manners?

“I fear that I did not hear y/n speak up and give you any kind of consent to touch their chair. Release your hands from it or I will do it for you..”

He’s 100% willing to be your advocate anytime you may need. I mean honestly you don’t even have to ask, he’s tussling the second he sniffs an ounce of disrespect towards you. Lol

Okay here is some of the more unfavorable headcanons. This touches on a bit of patronizing behavior and infantilization. I feel like Raiden would struggle with doing this a bit in the relationship.

Raiden doesn’t like when you go off or do things without telling him first. Yes, you are capable of protecting and providing for yourself. Even though he’s seen this capability first hand, he just can’t help thinking about if something were to go wrong. What if that day you’re too fatigued and you end up hurting yourself?…or worse…what if someone severely injures you? what then??

This is why he prefers to keep you couped up in his temple, right by his side. He even had things around there altered to perfectly suit you.

No more stress about the outside world and how frustrating it can be for a wheelchair user. Plus Raiden made arrangements so you can have 24/7 access to outworlds best doctors and remedies to help with any issues you may run into.

How could you even think of leaving when you got everything you need right here?!

Best of all, he knows exactly where you are at all times in the temple and it keeps his mind at ease that you’re okay.

He has a bad habit of immediately rushing to assist you with very mundane tasks and sometimes wheeling you even when you don’t need it. (Ironic because he hates when other people do it to you but because you’re his darling he thinks it’s automatically okay for him to.😭)

This has to do him worrying about your safety and trying to make your life easier but it instead makes things worse.

Raiden can also quite bossy with what he allows you to do and what he doesn’t. Sometimes this means speaking to you very sternly and even down to you. This often ending up in a back and forth with each other.

To him he’s just doing what’s best to help keep you safe and according to him these rules will ensure that. Raiden couldn’t live with himself if you got hurt, especially when he could easily prevent those things. This is his way of loving you, he genuinely doesn’t mean any harm to his darling by doing this.

You protest this behavior and tell him how hurtful this can be for you but I fear it might take a little while for him to fully realize what it is that he’s doing wrong. Just like a lot people in everyday life, he’s convinced he knows what’s best for you.

“I’m afraid I do not understand, Y/N. How is keeping you safe, hurtful? I can assure you I am only simply doing the duties as your lover.”

he’ll slowly give in by letting you go out and do things “without” him. Just know that he is always lurking behind each and every corner making sure that you’re safe.

And if he can’t, he’ll send a servant to hang around you and report back to him.

Yeahhhhh. I know. He’s so damn-

Just bear with him, he doesn’t process others feelings the same way as you and I. Empathy isn’t his strong suit but he will try his best to correct any errors, simply because he does truly love you.

Notice I said ‘try’. He’ll try but there are just some things he just won’t budge on. !dark¡ Raiden can be stubborn and rather selfish at times if he seriously believes in what he is doing is right.

For example you are absolutely not allowed to be anywhere near the tournament or Kombat in general. He doesn’t care that you may fight well. It’s far too dangerous for you. He will immediately shut down any conversation that has to do with it.

But I will say that I don’t think that this really has to do with the fact you’re in a wheelchair. I think he’d be against any of his darlings doing anything that could potentially harm them. He’s already lost so much, he refuses to let you go too.

I can also see him occasionally brushing you off when you offer to do certain tasks. He’ll immediately order someone else to do it even if you are the better fit.

(There he goes babying you again)

“I appreciate your willingness to help but your efforts will not be needed. Stay here and rest, Y/N. Liu Kang will handle this task instead.”

I guess one other change is that maybe he’s a bit more physically gentle with you?

I could see him being a bit more restrained when it comes to punishment? I think they’d be more among the lines of mental harm or emotional deprivation. (Locking you up, social isolation, food deprivation, avoiding affection ect.)

He’s cautious of man handling and weary of using his electricity too close to you because he’s afraid that it might conduct through the metal on your chair. No matter how angry he is with you, you’re the one person who Raiden would never turn against like that.

I think the only times he’ll get physical is when you’re being extremely defiant towards him when he’s trying to “protect”you.. He wouldn’t hit you but he’d pull you, carry and throw you down roughly. Worse he’d do is bruise you from his grip on you.

Ultimately though I feel like Raiden is just a bit more ignorant with some things. He really hadn’t spent time around humans on a deep emotional level so I think he’ll do unacceptable stuff sometimes. I don’t feel like Raiden would mind that you’re in a wheelchair or try to ever put you down because of it. He’s just so stuck in his ways at times he comes across a bit…::

Like I said I think He would be just as overprotective with any-other darling, only some thing’s slightly change.

[poisonsage808]

hiii i just read ur sandor clegane fic (need) and omg it was SO GOOD. I have a request if it’s okay with you. can u please write a sandor clegane x fem reader where reader is a daughter of a lord and she’s constantly in the red keep because of that, and the tension between them when their eyes meet or when they bump into each other is THICKK. After a while they both can’t take it anymore lol. Sorry for how specific this request is lol.

♡ The Risk Game ♡

Sandor Clegane x F!Reader

warnings: unwanted advances, suggestive themes

• He’s heard your father’s name many times in court, followed by giggles and snorts like an inside joke. Lords and Ladies roll their eyes and make the snide remarks they always tend to, but if it wasn’t your house it’d be someone else’s. Better yours than theirs. Your father was a laughingstock almost comparable to Lady Stokeworth, unable to marry off his eldest daughter, your sister, but he refuses to entertain the idea of wedding you before her.

And not that the Hound should care… but he’s fine with that.

• Second daughter of some bureaucrat lord from The Reach, Lady Lilac they’ve begun calling you though it wasn’t your name at all. “It suits you,” the queen herself said and, worse, you embraced it with glee. If the name was born of endearment perhaps the queen would’ve been right to bestow it on you, what with your pale purple gowns and rosey-vanilla scent.

Joff made a comment about that once when running into you in the gardens, his Hound two steps behind. The first time he met you, my, how your eyes went wide that day. You averted your eyes but of course he’d already seen you staring before you curtsied, “My prince. Ser.”

When you stood up your eyes fell on him again this time with a smile, first at him then the prince. He couldn’t smell the fear that should’ve been wafting off you in waves by that point. Only lilacs. The Hound snorted and turned his head.

“Don’t be rude, Hound. Apologies, Lady Lilac,” the smirk could be heard from miles away in Joffrey’s voice, “My dog isn’t a fan of flowers. Hates the smell.”

“Oh.” Your smile fell instantly. Eyebrows pushing up in embarrassment, your hand darted to your hair as if your tiny palm could conceal the smell.

Pleased with himself, Prince Joffrey pushed on and continued his walk.

Sandor regrets telling the little lion he hated the garden. He thought he hated floral scents but when he happened to pass you, he longed to catch a whiff of lilac. It plagued him to wonder if you did that because of the prince’s comment, or because of... no. You wouldn’t change anything for a dog.

Would you?

• Eyes lingered on him in court after that day, and the next.. and the next. The Hound made a game of it. He found if he looked at you immediately, you would grow embarrassed and not risk any more peaks at him the rest of the duration in the Great Hall. He would wait until you looked away before stealing his own glances.

You soon joined this game.

At the risk of upstaging your sister, which in her eyes you did by simply existing, you wore slightly more revealing gowns on hotter days. Shivers went up your back and goosebumps tickled your skin when you felt his eyes on you. Your arms, your chest, your neck and finally to the smile you were literally biting back. The Hound went rigid when your eyes met his across the large gap, over the heads of other people, but he didn’t look away like you would.

He captured your gaze until your cheeks went warm and your knees went weak. Then he would smirk and give you a drop of mercy, averting his eyes. Sandor didn’t always let you win. Sometimes he would lick his lips and watch you slap your hands over your cheeks in a desperate attempt to hide what he was doing to you.

• You’re a greedy little thing, he notes with adoration. With a tantalizing hand, you brushed your hair off your shoulders when you noticed him rounding the corner behind the prince. Sandor never had anyone wanting his attention. He soon becomes greedy as well, starved for another smile, for your eyes to land him. But downright feral for a touch, just to feel your hand in his. Seven hells, when did you turn him into a lovesick puppy? He was the Hound and yet near you he wasn’t.

Because his eyes were on you whenever possible he saw your sister, the spoiled brat, step on the hem of your purple dress. She thought it would be amusing to trip you in front of Joffrey. No one accounted the Hound would be so willing to rescue anyone that wasn’t the prince.

You yelp, arms shoving forward to brace for the impact that never comes. Instead your torso is hooked by a strong arm coated in well used armor. Through your gown you can feel how cold the metal is, and the way Sandor’s fingers dare to sprawl over your stomach. But when you don’t pull away, he wills himself to. Joffrey still ends up relatively amused by the way you avert your eyes and attempt to hide your rosy cheeks, though he doesn’t realize it’s not for the reason he thinks.

• “Lady Lilac looks uncomfortable.” The queen’s smirk matched her son’s in moments like these. Relishing in the embarrassment of others, even if it wasn’t because of her own doing.

Sandor could only glare from a distance when a particularly irritating cunt made a fool of himself trying to woo you. He would rather die of boredom with Joff in his lessons than stand a moment longer with Cersei and her flock of gossips. It was about as close to torture as he was willing to get, just to see you. However it was becoming a battle of restraint, watching you grow more and more nervous, not to kill that lord with wandering hands.

It started on your arm then you covered up, the wrap over your shoulders was gripped tighter in your hands. Then while facing your sister, he chanced a touch at your knee. You jumped and Sandor’s hand went to his sword. The worst sight of it was the regret clear across your face as you searched the area for a way to make an exit without being rude.

“Even if he could wed the older one, her husband would still lust after the youngest.”

“He might as well strike a match and be done with it. Who cares about the order?”

“Neither of them are getting any younger.”

The queen, normally pleased with the brainless hens that serve as an echo chamber, is suddenly annoyed with them.

Cersei places her goblet on the table and folds her hands on the surface while turning her head ever so slightly, “Clegane, fetch Lady Lilac for me. Her sister deserves unrivaled attention.”

Sandor had to force himself to stay to hear the whole command.

Like he was your savior, a true knight, your eyes lit up upon seeing him before you. It was a sight that clutched his heart so tightly he thought it would burst.

“The queen wants a word.” Sandor surprises both you and himself by extending a hand.

Your fingers glide over the black leather of his glove and he wonders what they would feel like on his bare skin. It doesn’t matter, the touch is fleeting now that you’re on your feet and—

One hand still holds the wrap closed over your chest but the other is spared to hook around his arm. Again Sandor can’t feel your touch and yet he’s all too aware that it’s there. You don’t seem bothered that the area suddenly went silent and eyes jumped to you in shock. The tightening of his heart squeezes tightly again and a hint of lilac hits his nose.

• Weddings were luxurious affairs where dogs weren’t allowed. Sandor ran his hand along Stranger’s coat in the stables while Joff and his family attended your sister's wedding out of politeness. The lord of wandering hands had won her heart, though it didn’t take much to do so.

Sandor tried not to think about you returning to The Reach but it was that, or see you betrothed before his very eyes. Safe to say he doesn’t think he could show your actual suitors the same restraint he did for your sister’s now-husband. He’d consider chopping off wandering hands, gouging out lingering eyes and potentially worse.

Sandor sighs. That wasn’t fair, you weren’t his.

“Stranger looks handsome,” Your voice pulled Sandor from his thoughts. What the fuck were you doing in the stables? And looking like that?

All things considered it was one of the more conservative gowns he’d seen you wear. Nowadays anything you wore sent his body into a heated frenzy, it hugged your body in all the right places. When he realized he’d been staring long enough to make you smug, he turned his attention back to his horse.

You giggle, politely covering your mouth to try and hide your amusement. It was rare to see the Hound of all people turn bashful, “You’ve lost at your own game.”

Sandor’s lip twitches but he refuses to let it spread to a grin, “Shouldn’t you be at a wedding?”

Strange huffs at your outstretched hand, searching for an apple you occasionally would bring him to earn his favor. The animal snorts when he only receives an apologetic smile but allows you to pet his nose.

“My sister was mere moments away from smashing cake in my face. I thought it smart to find safety.” You chuckled, a smidge of bitterness in your tone.

The man quirks a brow but continues to not look at you, best make it easier on himself, “And you thought you’d find it here?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Sandor’s out of the stable and hovering over you within seconds, determined to rid you of your smug attitude. It works to a certain degree. Your eyes widen slightly, your cheeks are rosy but your bottom lip is trapped between your teeth. In his nose is the scent of lilacs he’d begrudgingly missed.

He wanted more. He wanted you to leave.

It was too much. It wasn’t enough.

“This isn’t a game, girl. I may be a dog but I’m still a man,” His hand comes to your hip and you melt closer, “Man’s got needs. You wave scraps in my face and expect me to stay sane?”

“I don’t think I’ve done enough,” You challenge while your fingers dip into the slit of his shirt and roam along his hairy chest, you rarely see him without his armor. Your palms are cool on the back of his neck, he blames them for the shiver he feels, “After all, you’ve gone this long without so much as a kiss.”

Sandor scoffs out a laugh, “Do I look like some maiden? You think all I’m after is a kiss?”

Your smile widens, “And yet you’ve taken nothing.”

When the man doesn’t reply, your hands move up to his face. You have to stand on the tips of your toes to reach him. Sandor suppresses a flinch when your thumb runs over the craters of his scar. The ghost of your touch on one side is heavier on the other. Whatever supernatural force thought itself stronger than the fucking Hound finally collapsed and gave in to the mutual want, the invisible magnets were no longer held back.

You want him to kiss you? Kiss you he does.

Sandor’s lips capture yours over and over again. Soon your back is against the wall, his hands are groping and squeezing you like the starved man he claimed he was. You have no qualms with this. Legs wrapped around his torso, even though Sandor’s holding you up with ease, you make sure he’s unable to go far. Your fingers comb through his hair and tug when he grinds against you. The moans and whimpers you let out are delicious, but served as dangerous reminders he couldn’t take you here! Anyone could walk by and peep— or worse, tell.

“Gotta stop, flower.” He pants, dropping his lips and nose into your hair.

“Why?” You ask legitimately confused, it’d make him laugh if he wasn’t so damn hard. Frustration was clouding his judgment.

He’d had a solid reason not a moment ago and now… Why?

Sandor growls, inhaling your sweet scent as he grinds against your cunt. You gasp when his fingers dig into your plush waist, tugging you closer to create more friction.

“Sa-andor!” You half whisper, half squeak, but his name comes out like a plea.

He needs more of it, he needs all of it. You called his name and the sounds that followed were caused by him. Fuck any peeping Tom, fuck anyone that thought to interrupt him, fuck anyone that dared to take you away from him.

Taking a bone from a dog wasn’t a game anyone would play.

[leclerced]

im an oscar and carlos angst truther….maybe bunny going to carlos a lot more than usual and oscar’s like >:( and maybe he starts unintentionally icing her out and she’s all :(( until lando forces them to spend a nice slow night together where oscar just marks her up because she’s his and not carlos’ : ((

pls 😭 oscar pretending nothing is wrong but he doesn’t realize he’s being passive aggressive like. yk how stereotypically women are like “nothing is wrong. im fine.” thats oscar. he doesnt know how to use his words to talk ab feelings. lando can read him like a book and knows something is wrong, and one of the tells is him icing bunny out without realizing it. he’d just distance himself from her mentally, put up walls he’d just taken down. he’s not laughing at her dumb jokes or pulling her into him when she walks by, all the little things he usually does without thinking just stop.

he’d stop them all without realizing it until lando tells him bunny thinks he’s mad at her and she doesn’t know how to talk to him bc he doesn’t do that. oscar would feel worse bc lando’s good about talking about his feelings, he doesn’t ice people out or clam up. he just tells bunny what he’s feeling and they deal with it together. he hates that he can’t give her what she needs, he can’t give her the open communication she has with lando because he’s scared the way he feels ab her will be too much.

as soon as lando finds out its just bc she’s spent a few more nights than usual w carlos he’s like ): aw lando u should feel bad for carlos bc his car is shit and it’s practically a pity fuck. and oscar’s just like “that doesn’t make me feel better. i don’t want her to feel bad for him. i don’t want her to feel anything for him, or anyone else. he could crash, and bunny would be all over him making sure he’s okay, and that’s what bothers me. him having a shit car just makes her want to comfort him. if he had a great car and was winning, she’d be celebrating with him. there’s no end to it.”

as soon as lando finds out that’s whats bothering him sm he’d feel awful bc like they wouldn’t rly think ab how oscar feels ab her w other drivers bc he used to be one of them. it’d change the dynamic a lot when they realize just how possessive oscar can be, and like realistically it’s a normal amount, any normal boyfriend wouldn’t be okay w what goes on, but oscar wouldn’t be able to be a normal bf like he wants. tbh he wouldn’t share bunny w anyone if it was an option and he shows her that when lando forces them to be alone together for the first time in like two weeks. he doesn’t know how to use his words so lando would let them have some alone time where they could hash it out whatever way they can and when lando sees them the next morning she’s in his lap giggling at something he’s whispering in her ear. she’d be in jeans and a turtleneck despite the heat and he knows its bc she’s covered in love bites from oscar.

[sibillascribbles08]

@hotmothsummer tumblr continues to hate your main : ( but I got u

28.Teaching the other something new (I decided hey I just posted them flying around, why not Donnie teaching Jase how to do that)

“This is absolutely the worst idea you've ever had, Donnie.”

“Nonsense, you and I both know I’ve had far worse.”

Jason wanted to argue with that as he stared down at the street below. Why did they have to do this from such a tall building to start? He was going to be sick. 

“Come on, it’ll be easy.” Donnie smiled at him as his hover shell opened up and he practically walked through the air to stand in front of him. “You’ve already made yourself hover during training.”

“Yeah. Hover. Not fly!” Jason gestured at the grey, night sky above them. “There is no guarantee I can stay attached to my dragon for that long. Or whatever it is that does it.”

“If you fall I will be right here to catch you.” 

Jason tried to glare at him, as if he wasn’t buying it, but Donnie only gave him a soft smile in return. 

“This is so stupid.” He let out a shaky breath. 

“Jase, you flew with this thing when you first got it.”

“You think I remember how I did that?” Sometimes he tried to forget that whole ordeal. He’d been scared out of his mind. When he first got ninpo, when he first summoned this dragon, he acted without really thinking about anything other than the fact he had to save Donnie. He had to save him no matter what. 

Since then, the Hamatos had been doing everything they could to help him figure out how it works. By now he could reliably summon it, he could control it, but having the thing lift him into the air? Far more difficult.

He looked down at how far the street was again. “You couldn’t have picked a shorter building?”

Donnie shrugged. “A shorter fall means I have less time to catch you. Come on, summon it and at least try to float up. Then we can focus on moving outward.” 

Jason let out a tired sigh. He wasn’t winning this argument it seemed. Even if he could just head back to the stairs and walk away, he really did need to get more in the habit of facing his fears. 

He took a few deep breaths, feeling the mystic energy center in his chest before it moved outward. The dragon, like a creature made of light, twirled into the air and grew and grew until it towered behind Jase. 

He lined his back up with its chest, feeling the energy sink into his skin. Bit by bit his feet left the ground.

His anxiety spiked. The dragon’s grip on him faltered, but it thankfully didn’t drop him. 

“Yes, perfect.” Donnie shook his hands a few times before moving up to float at eye level. “Feel the lack of gravity? The freedom of it?”

“Freedom is not how I would describe this.” Jason focused on keeping his breathing steady. 

“I’m sure it’ll feel better if you move around.” Donnie flew backwards, doing a twirl as he did. A faint trail was left behind by the propellers on his shell. “Come on, try to reach me.” 

Jason took one more deep breath. Moving the dragon did become second nature recently. Raph taught him how, since the creature was so similar to the turtle’s projections. Think of it as an extension of yourself. 

So he stepped forward, feeling it linger at his back. It definitely didn’t feel like he stepped onto anything solid, but he didn’t fall either.

He did, however, make the foolish mistake of glancing down. Seeing his legs over the open air made his heart stop.

“Jase.” Donnie snapped his fingers. “Just look at me.” 

His gaze snapped back up, trying to focus on Donnie. Focus on how the light from his dragon faintly reflected on his scales.

His boyfriend held out his hand. Jason reached for it as he kept steadily moving forward, but he could feel the presence on his back slipping away. Deep breaths. Just a bit closer.

His fingers brushed against Donatello’s and then gravity ripped him free from his dragon’s grasp.

Jason screamed the moment he fell. He tried to not panic, to pull his dragon back, but seeing the street getting closer and closer made it impossible to do so. 

Then arms wrapped around his middle and he jerked to a stop. The air flew out of his lungs and his glasses even slipped off his face. His hand shot out to catch them before they got very far. 

He put them back on, ready to turn and look at Donnie, but the turtle tossed him into the air again. Jason shouted as he flipped over, now landing on his back. 

Donnie smiled at him. “Told you I’d catch you. Also, maybe we should take your glasses off for this.” 

“I have spares. You know this.” Jason rolled his eyes. He used the snarky comeback to pretend he wasn’t shaking. “Are lessons done for the day? Can we go home?”

“Don’t give up so easily. Try and summon your dragon again.” 

Jason gave a tired sigh and let his head drop against Donnie’s shoulder. “I don’t think this is going to work.” 

“You only tried once.”

“Donnie.” He hardened his tone. “I am stressed, freaked out, and feel like I’m about to throw up.” 

“I don’t get it. You let me fly you around all the time.”

“Because you know what you’re doing. I trust you. I don’t trust myself, not yet.” He crossed his arms, practically pouting in his boyfriend’s arms. At least being this close helped slow his heart down. 

“Then let’s try a different approach.” Donnie had to shatter that peace by jostling Jason once again, turning him upright. His arms wrapped around his chest. 

Jason wanted to flail about in protest, but decided against that when they were still so high up. “Donnie, what are you doing?”

“We’re going to fly. Hold your arms out.”

“No, that’s stupid.” 

“Put a hand out then, I don’t care. Just focus on the sensation, okay? Close your eyes if it helps.” 

“Donnie can we just—”

No arguing about this either it seems. Donatello took off, rocketing straight up before twirling around. 

Jason didn’t feel that frightened. Donnie had flown him around in so many different ways before. Holding him upright, sideways, and three times upside down due to catching him wrong. It took some getting used to at first, but at this point his boyfriend could plummet them both towards the ground and Jase wouldn’t even flinch.

He still thought this was stupid, but the air rushing through his hair and past his face lulled those thoughts away. He watched the city lights rush past them, then caught a brief glimpse of the sky as Donnie flew into a loop. 

“Come on,” Donnie shouted over the roaring wind. “At least have your dragon fly with us.” 

Jason sighed but once again gave in. He summoned the creature once more, letting it weave through the sky next to them. He thought way too much about what the people in the city would think about it if they saw it. Hopefully they’d assume it’s some kind of drone trick and not ask too many questions. 

Jason shut his eyes. Might as well try to practice seeing through his dragon’s eyes instead while Donnie kept flying them around. Just how long did he plan to do this anyway? 

Shifting his vision was something he still barely got the hang of. Even if he managed to access it, it came out so blurry. He hoped he didn’t need to give his dragon glasses too. 

Even with the blurriness, he caught the flash of purple. Then it shot across the sky again. 

“See?” Donnie’s laughter sounded farther away than it should. “You’re a natural at this.” 

Jason opened his eyes. 

Donnie flew in front of him now, just underneath the head of the dragon. 

Jason stopped flying in an instant. His dragon did as well. His breath caught in his throat as he felt the weightlessness around him. He hadn’t even noticed when Donnie let go of him. Once again his dragon held him in the air instead, and this time it felt far sturdier. 

“Stop overthinking it.” Donnie flew around him in a few circles. “Your dragon is an extension of yourself, yes? Just the image of both of you flying should do the trick.” 

Jason crossed his arms, his dragon mimicking the motion. “You’re one to lecture me about overthinking.” 

Donnie shrugged and flew higher. “Now try to catch me if you can, hm?” 

Jason watched his boyfriend take off at such a speed, the only way to track him was by the trail of light he left behind. 

So he narrowed his eyes, took one more deep breath, and flew after him. 

Funny how normal it suddenly felt. Just as easy as letting Donnie glide him around in the sky. His gaze followed the softshell as he zipped through the air. His dragon would follow along his trail, like being pulled by an invisible string. Bit by bit Jason was catching up. He had the dragon open its jaws, trying to grab hold of Donnie, but the turtle would twist to the side to avoid it. 

Jason found himself laughing as they both spiraled upwards, spinning around each other like a strand on DNA. 

Finally within range, Jason’s dragon reached out with its claws and grabbed Donnie right out of the air. 

“Hah.” Jason tried to shout, but took a moment to catch his breath from all the exhilaration and the laughter. “I won this round, Von Ryan.” 

Jason brought his boyfriend closer, and Donnie stayed rigid as a poll, gently pressed between the dragon’s massive paws. His eyes were wide, was he frightened? No, with the way his mouth slightly hung open it was more like he was in awe.

Jason still worked on catching his breath. “What?”

“Ah, nothing.” The faintest of smiles crossed his face as he kept on staring. “Just looking at you. Backlit with all that purple light, your hair wild from the wind, and smiling so wide you can’t help but laugh.” 

Heat rushed to his cheeks. His dragon immediately let go of Donnie who fell for a second before catching himself and hovering back up, though he still floated lower than Jason did. 

“W-whatever.” Jason stuttered. “Are we done for the day now or—”

Donnie obviously wasn’t as he reached up, hands brushing against Jason’s cheeks. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” 

Jason grabbed his wrists and tugged them away. “Ugh, Donnie, I told you to quit saying that.” 

Despite saying this, his dragon immediately betrayed him. The beast leaned its head down to brush its whiskers against Donnie’s cheek, then gently nuzzled his face.

The softshell laughed, scratching it under the chin. “Well, I think someone appreciates the compliment more than he cares to admit.” 

“S-shut up.” Jason grumbled. “And you, knock that off.” He pointed at the dragon which didn’t listen to him in the slightest. It wrapped its neck around Donnie, tugging him closer. The entire time a low rumble hummed through the air. “Ugh, if I wasn’t flying above the city right now you’d be gone in an instant.” 

“Well, maybe you should be the one hugging me instead.” Donnie smirked. 

Jason rolled his eyes, but reached out to grab hold of Donnie’s face. His dragon finally let go in the process. 

“I am not that pretty.” He insisted. 

Donnie just kept on smiling, the lids of his eyes slowly falling. “Oh great deity of the sky, what a privilege it is to even be in your presence.”

“Okay, now you’re getting way too corny with it.” 

Donnie laughed and Jason chose to cut it off with a kiss. 

Huh, smooching his boyfriend while steadily floating above him felt kinda nice.

Maybe they could spend a few more minutes up here.

[wri0thesley]

Could I get a request for Nanami somnophilia? Maybe he’s had a hard day at work and wants to destress a little by making you feel good? ~ 💖 u///u

Sweet Dreams, Darling - Nanami x Reader (2.1k)

You’re so pretty, and Nanami’s so stressed, and he just can’t resist you.

warnings: afab reader, no pronouns (reader wears a nightgown). not sfw, somnophilia* (not discussed in the fic but implied to have been agreed upon), coming inside.

Today had gone far beyond overtime.

Nanami is buzzing with unrestrained feelings when he opens his own front door, crackling with cursed energy that hasn’t yet worn off him even after defeating the curse. He can feel it tensing his muscles and shoulders, making everything seem all the more intense, like shivers and electricity running through his fingers.

He can’t remember the last time that a mission had left him feeling like this; so on-edge and stressed. Usually by the time he gets home after work, he’s bone-tired. Even when he hasn’t put in any overtime, it’s all he can do to keep his eyes open and strip off his work clothes and accept the kisses you lavish on his cheeks as you admonish him for working too hard, telling him he needs to take a break every so often.

He wearily strips off his jacket, his harness, his weapon and hangs them on the coat rack in the hallway. It’s dark, and he doesn’t want to turn on the lights and perhaps alert you to his presence when he knows you probably stayed up too long waiting for him anyway, so he tries to ensure his feet slide almost-silently across the wooden floor, until he can open the door to the shared bedroom and--

His breath catches in his throat. He’d been right, that you’d stayed up to greet him and welcome him home – but you’d evidently grown too tired to keep your eyelids propped open, and you’d fallen asleep in the warm golden glow of the bedside lamp, your book fallen onto the floor beside you. He kneels to pick it up, to place it on the night stand; and he can’t help but notice how pretty you look in the light.

Your mouth looks so soft and plush. He knows what you taste and feel like against his own lips, intimately, but every time he catches a glimpse of your mouth again he wants to suck it into his mouth and bite until you groan. The curves and lines of your peaceful face are positively angelic, the fan of your eyelashes against your cheeks making him want to brush his thumb over your skin and see how warm you would feel beneath the places he’s calloused from gripping his weapon too hard.

You haven’t pulled yourself down under the blankets, because it is a summer’s evening and the air is cloying. You're wearing a thin white nightgown, a confection of satin and lace – the straps dig into your shoulders, cling to your breasts and hips, emphasising the curves of you that Nanami knows will fit so well into his big hands. He knows you like he knows the back of his hand; he’s spent countless nights entangled in you, studying you with his lips and mouth and fingers. Knows the places that make you sigh, make you bare your throat, make you twist your fingers into his hair and murmur; “Kento, please,” like it’s an invocation for him to grant you release. The lace-trimmed hem barely skims your thighs, and Nanami can already tell that you’re wearing nothing underneath it.

His cock gives an answering throb to that assumption in his slacks.

You’re always so unfairly pretty. He doesn’t know how to deal with it – this rush of affection whenever he sees you, the fact that his body responds to your curves and your smiles and the glitter of your eyes like it’s betraying him. He knows he’s handsome, but he’s never considered himself desirable – but you look at him like he hung the stars, cling to him at night, brush kisses over his neck until he believes you when you tell him how perfect he is.

“You can do anything to me,” you’ve breathed against him, too many times to count. “Any time you want, any place – I’m yours.”

You wouldn’t mind. He hesitates for a moment, before he brings up a hand to his tie. Loosens the knot. Unbuttons his shirt. Unzips his slacks. Through it all, it’s like he’s on autopilot – his eyes do not for one moment leave your prone form, so peaceful and unbothered in sleep. You look like an angel. How’s he supposed to resist?

The thought of parting your soft thighs has his cock stirring again, and he palms it through his underwear, his eyes flickering closed for a moment as he remembers that this morning, you’d ground your ass against him in bed when he’d had to get up. You’d batted your eyelashes, pouted; “Just stay for ten minutes?” You’d asked him, and he’d had to sigh and kiss your forehead.

He hates denying himself, but he hates denying you even more.

He’s undressed now, and he climbs onto the bed to look at you. Your face shifts as the bed dips under his weight, eyebrows furrowing for just a moment before they smooth back out and your face is perfectly peaceful once more. A hand comes up to caress the cheek, to rub his thumb along your lower lip – your mouth opens slightly, allowing him to slide his thumb into your mouth. Still sleeping, your tongue brushes the digit, sucks on it gently before he withdraws it.

The submissive little action has his belly all full of flames.

Hands caress your collarbones. Fingertips stroking along your bare shoulders, the place an old love bite from him has faded to be barely noticeable. He slides his palms over your breasts, relishing the warm, heavy weight of them. You curve out so beautifully, fit in his hands like you were made to be held there. You shift again in your sleep, unconsciously leaning in to the hungry heat of his touch. He can’t help but lean in as his thumbs caress your nipples, coaxing the buds to hardness beneath his touch. He breathes in the scent of your hair, so familiar – smooths his lips across your forehead, the bridge of your nose, your cheeks. Brushes his lips against your mouth, winning a soft exhale of breath from you, one that has a little bit of a whine hidden behind it as he continues to play with your chest, squeeze the weight of your breasts in his hands.

You unconsciously press your thighs together, sighing, and Nanami cannot wait any longer. Those two big hands slide past your waist, over your hips, over your outer thighs so he can dig his fingers into the softest parts of your legs and gently part them. The nightgown’s hem is pushed out of the way with the movement, folding and bunching over your hips to reveal that his attentions have certainly had an effect on the slit nestled between your legs.

Even in lamplight, you’re wet enough that Nanami’s mouth practically waters. Beads of your slick glisten, clinging to the softly furled petals of your sex – the pearl of your clit peeking out from beneath the hood. The feel of the cool air hitting your heated cunt makes your face scrunch for a moment, the expression so lovely and raw that Nanami wants to kiss it off your face.

His cock is pulled out of his underwear, encircled in his fist – the shaft is thick and hot and hard, pulsing with need for you. The glans is slick with his own pre-come – not that it needs to be, as he shifts his hips and rubs the head through the lips of your labia, smearing your arousal all over him.

A full-body shiver goes through him at the feel of your cunt’s folds clinging to his cock – he’s not even inside you, and he feels like he could come. He hadn’t realised just how pent-up he was from today’s nightmare of a job until he had come home to the refuge of your body – even asleep, you manage to calm him. He feels like a ship that’s come into port, as he rubs the head of his cock up and down your cunt. You shiver every time it makes contact with your clit, and he feels your own body pulse beneath his. In your sleep, you still want to be fucked by him. As he repeats the motion, making sure the head drags faster over the swollen bundle of nerves, you sigh so prettily and cant your hips so adoringly that he thinks he’s woken you up--

No. Your mouth has dropped into a soft, small ‘o’ shape, but your eyelids do not even flicker. There’s the lightest sheen of sweat on your forehead, and muscles in your thighs are twitching, but you are still deep in your dreams.

He wonders what you’re dreaming about; selfishly, he hopes it is him. He hopes some part of what he’s doing has permeated your consciousness. Judging by how wet you are, the way he can feel your cunt clenching when his cockhead drags too close to your tight hole, he knows you’re at least having a very good time in your own imagination.

Rubbing his cock through your slick is all very well and good, but it’s not sating the urge inside of him. It’s not enough. He wants to feel your body around him – your heart beating, your breath catching.

He adjusts himself with his thumb and forefinger, letting his cock head catch on the rim of your entrance.

This one makes you let out a soft;

“Aaah—,” in your sleep, so quiet that it may as well be a puff of air as Nanami takes his time sheathing himself within you, enjoying the tight cling of your walls, plush and wet and welcoming. He’s buried his cock in you so many times, and you’re always tight enough that it feels like the first one all over again – your breath shaking your chest, your mouth open, the pulse of both of your hearts pressed against one another.

As he bottoms out inside you, your head moves restlessly; your pretty mouth shapes a wordless moan, a whimper, that soon turns into;

“K-Kento, mm, please--”

You are dreaming about him. The thought makes his gut twist hot, almost pushes him over the edge. He pulls out gently before driving himself back in, not wanting to wake you up by being too enthusiastic in his pumping. It’s nice, having you like this – feeling the way you’re sucking him in, being able to sense every little pulse and clench of your walls. His front presses against yours as he gathers your thighs up, holding them further apart. You seem to get what he wants even in your half-asleep state, soft thighs locking about his hips. Oh, fuck. He tries to keep his pace steady, but you just feel so good around him – like you were made to take his cock.

One of his thrusts is particularly hard, the wet sound of his cock inside of your cunt echoing about the walls, his pelvis grinding perhaps a bit too forcefully into yours – and your eyes flicker open, dark and hazy with sleep. They half-focus on him above you, all misty and pretty. Your mouth curves into a sleepy smile as you look at him, one of your hands gently reaching above you to cup Nanami’s face and trace the sharp line of his cheekbone and jaw.

“Kento?” You murmur. “Mm, feels . . . feels good--”

“Shh,” Nanami murmurs, smoothing a kiss onto your palm. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

You sigh.

“Love you,” you say to him, sleep-laced – and then you do fall back to sleep, your eyes drifting closed again even as Nanami’s hips are still driving into you. Your hand drops from his face – but your lips don’t lose the smile, tired but wicked, and Nanami is staring at that perfect curve of your mouth as his orgasm tears through him.

His cock twitches inside of you as pleasure blinds him for a moment, all whited out heat and his cock pulsing spurt after spurt of his release inside of you. Your body clings to him, greedily drinking in everything he gives you, and he waits, slowly rocking his hips against your inner walls until he’s sure that he’s utterly drained and that every drop of his come has been pushed as deep inside of you as it can go.

Only then does he let himself pull out.

Your eyebrows furrow as he does it, as your cunt is suddenly found empty – but then, Nanami crawls to lay beside you, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you spoon-fashion so you mould to his body. The soft, pleased smile on your face hasn’t faded at all.

He feels bad that you haven’t gotten to come - ordinarily, Nanami considers himself a gentleman. He likes having you come two, three times before he’s so much as gotten his cock inside of you - but tonight had been different. Tonight he had needed this. Needed you.

You snuggle into his embrace though, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world – and he consoles himself. It’s not like he doesn’t have a hundred nights in the future to make it up to you - he wants to spend the rest of his life kissing you, making love to you, holding you, fucking you. Loving you. 

He drops another kiss on your shoulder, murmuring softly into the crook of your neck;

“Love you more.”

[l4verq]

crossed out | b.b

bucky barnes x reader

in which you’re one of the names on bucky’s list

warnings : angst, fluff?, mentions of choking

fic : one shot

a/n : u know i’m a sucker for therapy bucky lol

He should have skipped today’s session.

Cause he’s starting to regret coming when she brings it up.

“You gonna tell me about her?” Cecelia questions, casually flicking through a thick folder labelled James B.B.

But it was never casual.

Bucky knew she was observing his every move, his every tick. And he’d been pretty good at faking through every session until now.

“I thought you were helping me make amends.” He forges an unamused smile, which was second nature now.

“Yes and that’s why I asked you about her.” She looks up from the folder, the smallest smile tugging at her lips.

“It says here that you guys were complicated.” She continues, eyes skimming over a particular page.

Complicated was the last thing he’d use to describe it.

Cause it was the one thing that gave him some clarity, hope that he could be deserving of love again someday.

“We used to date. We broke up.” He gruffs, crossing his arms.

Maybe he should fake a mechanical failure in his arm, reschedule for another time.

“Do you still love her?”

He doesn’t answer but it’s written all over his face and Cecelia can read him like a book.

She turns over his list that she’d assigned him to make, eyes trailing down names until it reaches a hastily crossed out name at the end.

“Why don’t we pick this up next week? I hope you’ll be more comfortable to talk about it then.” She hands him back the small, black notebook.

He hesitantly takes it back, his feet already springing to get out of the room.

Was it just him or was the air running out in this tiny room.

“And, James?” She calls out.

He looks back, slightly winded.

“Remember, sometimes you need to just take a leap of faith, trust your heart.”

He nods solemnly, almost tripping over his legs trying to get to the door.

Hands fumbling over the handle, he’s greeted by a rush of cool air when he finally opens the goddamn door.

He stuffs the notebook in his pocket, taking big strides towards the exit.

It’s the same everyday.

Keep his head down, one sharp left, stop by the nearby cafe if he feels like it.

But today, he takes a right, taking out his flip phone he prefers to the touch screens these days.

Punching in the only number he knows, his stomach’s doing flips.

Don’t pick up, don’t pick up.

“So you do know how to call someone.” Sam picks up after a few rings.

He could almost hear the stupid smirk.

“How are you?” He cringes, the grip on his phone tightening.

It’s a small pause before Sam chuckles, “Y/N’s doing fine. In fact, she just got back from a mission in Prague yesterday.”

Of course, you’d still be going on missions, it was the only thing you knew.

“That’s not why I called.” He huffs, leaning against his car now.

It was an old, beat up Honda that he’d fixed up from the local junkyard.

“Really? Then enlighten me.”

It was Cecelia’s fault for bringing you up. If she hadn’t brought her up, he wouldn’t be here doing this.

“Where is she?” He closes his eyes, wanting the ground to just crack open and swallow him whole.

“Right where you left her.”

He mumbles a hasty goodbye cause he’s not sure he can trust himself to keep his composure any longer.

Getting into the car, he pulls out the notebook, going through the list.

He’d ticked off the list last month, even adding a few more names just to avoid the crossed out name at the end.

He jams the keys in, the car purring to life, before he can change his mind.

-

The door is taunting him.

He doesn’t know how but it is.

A quick exhale and he raises his hand to knock on it, half hoping you won’t open it.

But you do.

He always loved your eyes cause they held so much life to them.

Like for now, confusion morphing to recognition and rage in an instant.

You’re in bad shape, he can gather from the slight limp and bruises.

It feels like forever before you call his name in disbelief, what he’s longed to hear for so long.

He wishes you’d curse him out, hit him or tell him to go away cause that’s what he deserves.

But you don’t.

Instead, your pretty eyes brim with tears.

“Don’t.” He grits his teeth, unable to meet your eyes.

He always hated to see you cry.

“Then, why’d you leave?” Your voice breaks as months of bottled up heartache pour out.

He had to.

You were the only right thing he’d done in a long long time and he couldn’t mess it up.

“I needed to fix myself before I could trust myself around you.”

He grimaces as he remembers the life draining out of your face, while his hands were wrapped around your neck.

That very night he’d left, requested for therapy and could only hope it would work.

But it didn’t.

There was no fixing anything, he’d realised that waking up from nightmares far too many times.

“You could have picked up the phone.” Your voice barely above a whisper, stinging like a nasty burn.

He almost did, everytime.

But he hated himself too much to allow that.

“I’m sorry.” That’s all he can whisper, fighting the urge to take you in his arms.

“If you’d just let me in, realise that I do understand you.” You’re basically pleading at this point but you don’t care.

“I know you do. But you don’t have to. You deserve a better guy.” He says the same thing when he left like a broken radio.

“There is no better guy for me, Bucky. Why can’t you get that through your thick skull?” You limp over closer to him.

You know he’s focused only on your limp, eyes filled with concern as they rake over your wounds.

“Does it hurt?”

The same thing he always used to ask after a mission while tending to your injuries.

“Yea, here.” You pat the left side of your chest, biting down a smile.

He has to fight back one too, but it’s kinda hard.

You meet his eyes, a little too long cause you’ve missed gazing into them every morning.

Maybe this is the leap of faith Cecelia keeps droning on about, he thinks as he leans in, “We should take a look at that, then.”

You sniffle, “I’m still mad at you.”

He laughs, which involuntarily makes you 2% less mad.

“I missed you.” He whispers, his lips inches away from yours.

You don’t have to say it back cause he knows.

He leans in closer, ghosting over your lips, waiting for your approval.

You close the distance, lips crashing into his almost in desperation.

Which you regret almost immediately cause you taste blood.

A split lip and kissing, not so pretty.

He pulls away and you mewl, pulling him back.

“You’re only making your lips worse.” He chuckles, hands slipping into yours.

Instead, he kisses your forehead, trailing all the way to your lips where he pecks them gently.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers again, head leaning on yours.

“I forgave you a long time ago. I was just waiting for you to come back.” You sob, tears springing out again.

He pulls you into his chest, steady hands you’ve craved for so long.

Gently rocking you back and forth, he strokes your hair, fleeting kisses to calm you down.

You’re struggling to keep your legs stable as your eyes grow heavy but you ignore the blatant aches in your body cause you don’t want to leave his embrace.

And he somehow always seems to notice.

“You need to rest.”

You shake your head, holding onto him even tighter.

He knows he won’t win against your stubborn ass so he lifts you up carefully, legs swinging over his arms while you snake your hands around his neck for support.

“Stay.” You mumble as he takes you in the room you two used to share.

And he does.

Boy, was Cecelia in for a ride next session.

-

a/n : im cringing as i post this🧎🏻‍♀️🔫🏃🏻‍♀️jsneyswjausowkaw but supeerr excited for tfatws this friday :)) also i named bucky’s therapist for convenience lol im pretty sure she’s not named in the first ep? i could be wrong tho

[pastxlscorp]

Bully! Mitsuya Fanfic (pt.3)

Chapter III: Abidance

✿ Word Count: 3.2k

✿ Pairing: Takashi Mitsuya x reader

✿ Topics covered: (Eventual) Enemies to lovers trope, Hakkai POV, Y/N POV, Mitsuya POV, tsundere-Mitsuya, bully! Mitsuya, fem. reader, minor manga spoilers, slight angst

Awakening from his slumber, he found that the woman was no longer taking up space in his bed. He heaved a sigh of relief, only to, unfortunately, see a message from an unknown number on his phone saying “Text me when you’re free ;)” Ignoring the text, he found he had a message from Hakkai and remembered that he had abandoned him to sleep with that damn woman. However, Hakkai didn’t confront him about it, but instead acted as if nothing happened.

🗨️ Hakkai: Is the party still on for today? (Sent 2:00am)

🗨️ Mitsuya: Yeah, sorry about yesterday. I wasn’t feeling my best, I should have let you know. (Sent 10:00am)

🗨️ Hakkai: No hard feelings. Ya feeling better now Taka-chan? (Sent 10:01am)

🗨️ Mitsuya: Not really, but it’ll pass. What’d you end up doing yesterday after I left? (Sent 10:02am)

Picking up on the subtle curiosity of Mitsuya’s text, it became clear to Hakkai that he did see him with you. As much as he admired Mitsuya, the anger building inside of him got the best of him. Therefore, in response, he chose a reply that he knew would get Mitsuya boiling.

🗨️ Hakkai: Caught Y/N outside of your class, had a wonderful lunch with her! She’s so nice, Taka-chan! Why are ya so mean to her? (Sent 10:04am)

Vigorous fingers typed in reply.

🗨️ Mitsuya: Why the fuck were you hanging around that slut? She’s just gonna try and get in your pants. What did she say to you? (Sent 10:04am)

🗨️ Mitsuya: Hakkai? Hello? (Sent 10:05am)

🗨️ Hakkai: Sorry Taka-chan, I’m back. She didn’t say nuthin bad, actually she was so sweet. She saw I was alone and we both had some tea together back at her place. Ended up sleeping over, I’m still here actually! (Sent 10:05am)

🗨️ Mitsuya: BACK AT HER PLACE? I told you, she’s just trying to get in your pants and you let her win! I can’t believe you let a whore like her win you over, Hakkai! Where the fuck is your brain? She probably was enjoying every minute of your sorry ass. (Sent 10:05am)

🗨️ Hakkai: Who said we slept together, Taka? (Sent 10:05am)

Silence enveloped the room.

🗨️ Mitsuya: Sorry… I just assumed that’s what you meant by sleeping over. (Sent 10:07am)

🗨️ Hakkai: Awh, it’s okie Taka, I know you were only looking out for me. (Sent 10:07am)

Absolutely, looking out for Hakkai. That’s what this was, that’s what he was doing. There couldn’t have been any other reason why he was so upset at the thought of you sleeping together. He was just being a good friend.

-----

┃ “Y/N!” the hoarse voice spoke to you, feeling the smooth cloth of his jacket pressed against your face as you bumped into him.

You looked up only to recognize Hakkai, kind thoughts flooding your mind, diminishing your anger stemming from your interaction with Mitsuya moments before. He grinned at you giddily, eyes relaxing any sort of tension left in your body. You slowly began to forget why you were mad and allowed yourself to indulge in his presence.

┃ “Good afternoon Hakkai! Waiting for Mitsuya?”

┃ “Mhm, you takin’ Designer 101 too, right?”

┃ “Yup! How come you aren’t taking it? You’re very fashionable, y’know?”

┃ “You’re too kind,” He giggled, his grin beginning to somehow grow wider on his cheeks as he raised his hand to pat your head.

┃ “I’m serious! Why don’t you join the class? It’s not too late, the second semester is about to start!” You eagerly pushed on, rejoicing in the positive energy he emitted.

┃ “ ‘m not really into making clothes, just showing them off...” He let out a hefty chuckle before getting cut off by you.

┃ “You don’t have to be good at making them! Some students choose to learn how to stylize different clothing and patterns, it’s all about the latest trends.”

┃ “Really?” He went silent for a few moments, smile morphing into a straight line as he contemplated your words carefully. Not to fret, as his smile quickly returned as he said: “Well then, might have to ask Taka-chan to help me sign up!”

You both shared a laugh and began to discuss the enrollment process in order for Hakkai to join the class-- if he were to drop another class, what class would he drop, or would he simply add it to his current schedule? While your conversation was nothing more than an innocent developing friendship, unbeknownst to you, Mitsuya had witnessed it all and declared it once more another betrayal. You were such a slut, flirting with anyone and everyone. Irrationality began to consume him-- instead of seeing your interaction with Hakkai for what it truly was, a genuine developing friendship, his brain refused to comprehend your behavior with other men. He never got to the level of comfortability you had with Takemichi, and he had lost the sense of ease you had with him to Hakkai and god, god did it piss him off. Unfortunately for that kohai, she was just another doll for him to play with just until he could get your attention again. Even a single drop of your attention, your attachment, it was enough to drive him for weeks just to be able to be near you again. Your kind words squeezing his heart tighter and tighter the more you spoke, your laughter ringing in his ears at a corny joke he told you during club meetings, it enveloped him into infatuation which later developed into a larger feeling. Such a large feeling over the progressing months that when he began bullying you, when your lack of presence and absences during meetings began to grow, an emptiness began to root in his heart, waiting for you to touch it once more and let it grow.

He could go on and on listing things about you-- the way he loved your sense of fashion, the way he loved your sense of humor, your compassion to helping others, your intellect that allowed you to read everyone like a book, everyone except him. Why couldn’t you see that he didn’t hate you? Oh, but that jealousy, the first time he’d admit that it was jealousy, it gripped him so tightly around his neck that it felt suffocating. Every shove, every clasp of your hand, your wrist, your chain, your chain, it made his heart shutter seeing that dead watery look in your eye, but your attention was like a drug that he just had to keep getting more of. It would never be enough to satisfy him, not until he could call you his and you would call him yours. He pitied using them, he really did, but he needed someone to satiate his needs. He was a womanizer, after all-- if one left he would just charm another into his bed. They all had high respect for Mitsuya, his intellect, his charm, his skill, and his kindness. Yet no matter how hard he tried, all those women, they were never you and they could never try and be you. He found that he no longer sought sex for his own pleasure anymore, but for your own, pretending so desperately that the one trembling out of pleasure beneath him was you. Imagining, no, fantasizing that he was making you happy and leaving you satisfied.

Upon seeing your interaction, he quickly left with his kohai for their own exchange, leaving Hakkai unfortunately confused as he waved you goodbye, patiently waiting for his friend to meet him. You were still on campus because you had taken additional extracurricular activities to build up your transcript to make up for your absences in Mitsuya’s Home-economics club. At first, you attempted to make it through the club meetings but he made every single one as unbearable as possible. The second semester, could it come any sooner? Hakkai, too focused on organizing his schedule with you previously, had failed to notice Mitsuya leaving with a woman. He waited, he waited, and he waited, coming to a good hour until he realized Mitsuya wouldn’t have left him waiting for this long without a heads up. He looked at his phone, expecting some sort of contact-- a phone call, a message, anything. All that awaited him was several unread messages from group chats and friends, none of them from Taka-chan. He sighed, placing his phone away just as he noticed your presence once more, planting a fake smile on his face to disguise his obvious disappointment. Unfortunately for him, his smile only instantly alerted you something was wrong.

┃ “Hakkai? Why are you still here, weren’t you supposed to be meeting Mitsuya?”

┃ His phony smile stood in place as tears began to fill his eyes. He croaked: “T-taka-chan left me. Do you think he’s mad at me for sumthin’, Y/N? I don’t ‘member doin’ anything.”

You instantly rushed over to comfort him, witnessing what appeared to be an intimidating giant become undone into a fragile teddy bear at the thought he had upset his best friend. Your disdain only kept growing for Mitsuya, first it was his lack of maturity during class, and now he had abandoned his best friend for whatever reason it was. Hakkai was a sweetheart, you couldn’t imagine what he may have done to upset someone. Therefore, you came to the conclusion Mitsuya had thrown a tantrum of sorts and took it out on him. It irked you, however, Mitsuya always remained respectful and loving to his best friend in addition to Yasuda-san, so you couldn’t help but raise your brow wondering what got him so upset for him to entirely ditch his friend. Pushing those thoughts aside, you placed all of your focus on bringing a smile back to Hakkai’s face, gently rubbing his back and placing your forehead against his temple as he crouched over in defeat. You desperately attempted to think of anything to cheer him up.

┃ “Ah, how about some tea?”

┃ “...Tea?”

┃ “Listen, I have absolutely no idea what you like and I want to calm you down so-”

┃ “Tea sounds good.” He said softly, a small smile returning to his face.

You escorted Hakkai comfortably back to your dorm, located on the east wing of the campus. Women and men could go to each other’s dorms, they just had gender-separated wings because it was just easier to contain the chaos if everyone was allowed to sleep with their girlfriend or boyfriend. The boys had their dormitory on the west side, thus you noticeably got some glances as you strolled with Hakkai. Mitsuya was always surrounded by Hakkai and Yasuda-san, so obviously most of your classmates were shocked to see you hanging out with his right-hand man. Were you both sleeping together? Ooh what a scandal (not). Although you didn’t mind the glanes too much, Hakkai on the other hand made sure to shoot down them all with a nasty side glare, quickly causing them to turn their cheek. It was a cute sight after all, seeing how you subconsciously had reached for his hand and began to rub gentle circles on it in order to ease him, which succeeded in doing so. Once you arrived at your dorm, you opened the door and gave him a show of jazz hands as you toured him around your dorm. Your dorm wasn’t the largest compared to his and Mitsuya’s dorm, which made him realize the privilege of not having a financially aided dorm. Your queen bed comfortably rested on the right side of the room, covered with a curtain and fairy lights on the wall behind it. Your desk was not too far away, maybe a good 15 feet across your bed, not too messy but not too neat. It was obvious you were working on something, as there were papers still out and scattered but the rest of the desk had the pens, pencils, and stapled papers sorted in a clean pile. Your pinboard was half-covered with your calendar, cluttered with small sticker reminders while the other half was your schedule, nicely decorated with washi tape sticking it to the board. Next to your bed was a wooden closet and you led him into the cramped kitchen that made him gasp, seeing how you make such a tight space so comfortable and presentable. You had a small glass coffee table in the middle, a small fridge cramped in the kitchen underneath a cupboard and next to a cabinet holding the sink on top. Next to that was a stove with a microwave on top, both color-coordinated black, contrasting the white of the room. You guided him over to the table and motioned for him to sit and he obediently did. Walking over to the countertop holding an old-school kettle, you used it to strain and brew the tea. Gleefully, you dropped a few ice cubes in his glass and carefully poured his tea and then your own, sitting across from him at the table. He took a sip of the tea you had placed in front of him, smiling not at the delightful taste but the awaiting face you had fixated, putting your hands under your chin waiting for a response.

┃ “This tea is delightful, thank you Y/N.” He said warmly and you basked in his praise.

┃ “Ah, sorry if I made you uncomfortable with the staring. I don’t… really get visitors. It’s nice to have someone over.” You replied, your face beginning to glow a light pink as your lips formed into a slight frown, embarrassed to admit how you had no friends.

┃ “Mm, I should be the one thankin’ you,” The softness in his voice made your crouched posture fix itself as you looked up to him. “You made me sum tea, opened me to your home, all ‘cuz I was sad and overthinkin’. You ain’t hafta do that, but you did anyway. I appreciate ya!” His iconic grin was now back where it belonged as his eyes glazed over you in pure adoration. You smiled in return, both returning to take a sip of your tea.

Hours passed and he was still at your house, you both gossiping and talking like old friends. You discussed your classmates, praising them and disapproving of the behavior of others. He began to confide in you about what he witnessed during his time as the second-division’s vice captain. You eagerly listened to him as he described to you his tales with his brother and his amazing sister Yuzuha, anything and everything was up for debate. At least, almost everything. Despite being the main reason he was so upset, you and Hakkai had not discussed Mitsuya’s treatment of you. He was mentioned in a few gang stories, but it seemed as if Hakkai was opting out of speaking about him out of respect for you. However, his head began to slump, implying he was tired. You grabbed your phone, which had been placed upside down on the coffee table, and looked at the time and saw it was well past midnight. You leaned over to rub Hakkai’s shoulder and you gasped when his head turned back upright, alert as if he just remembered something. Drunk on drowsiness, he began to speak:

┃ “Mmh, y’know Mitsuya used to talk about you a lot. Always went on about this pretty girl who was awfully sweet, really smart…” He trailed off, fighting off the sleep that clung desperately to his eyelids. “He never gave me a name but after club meetings when I woulds wait for him, he would tell me about his conversations. I always saw him looking at ya. What did ya do to make him so pissed off?” Although he had no malicious-intent in his questioning, it was enough to cause goosebumps all over your body.

┃ “I didn’t do anything, ‘kai. Really, nothing different happened that day. All of the sudden, the next day during his club he humiliated me in front of everyone and then made me stay after hours to yell at me even more.” You went silent for a moment, before your curiosity got the best of you and you questioned: “He used to talk about me? Are you sure?”

┃ Ignoring your question, he replied to your initial response. “You didn’t do anythin’ different at all that day?”

┃ You contemplated his question carefully, before realizing the one event that was an outlier to the rest. “I was waiting for my friend outside campus gates that day. He offered to wait with me but I insisted he didn’t, mainly because my friend had said Mitsuya wasn’t very fond of him so it was better if he didn’t see him.”

┃ “Who’s the friend?”

┃ “Hanagaki Takemichi.”

┃ The tired man in front of you took a full minute to process your sentence before bursting out and crying of laughter a few moments later. You looked at him, pure confusion coating your body as he continued to sob. Finally, after a few minutes, he wiped his eyes and sat back up, gleaming at you. “Well that’s your problem, Mitsuya fucking hates Takemichy. Probably spied on ya because he was worried, saw Takemichy, and boom-- he got jealous AHAHA!” He went back to crying of laughter, leaving you a few moments to yourself to process his words.

It was embarrassing to admit how Hakkai was half-asleep in front of you and somehow managed to put together your puzzle of confusion together months after said incident had happened, in under 20 minutes. However, you couldn’t find yourself disagreeing with his theory. Suddenly, Hakkai stopped laughing and looked up at you, all serious.

┃ “Now wait… that’s not funny! He’s been pushing ya around all the time just cuz he’s jealous of you being with other guys?! That’s fucked up! ‘M gonna beat his ass, Y/N! Just for you!”

You now began laughing, taking Hakkai’s hand in yours over the glass countertop and tapping it gently.

┃ “That won’t be necessary, ‘kai. How about we come up with a solution?”

┃ “My solution is beating his a-”

┃ “A non-physical solution.”

┃ He went silent for a few moments, looking away from you to the window to think. You could tell he thought of something when a smirk began to plaster itself on his face. “How about we test our theory?”

┃ “Elaborate.”

┃ “If that pain in my ass is done with whatever it is he’s doing, there was supposta be a party tomorrow. Not at our dorm, but our friend’s. You might have heard of him, Manjiro Sano?”

You responded with silence.

┃ “Mikey. The Invincible Mikey.”

┃ “Not ringing any bells.”

┃ “Brother of Emma Sano. Brother of Izana.”

┃ “Emma Sano is so nice!”

┃ “Captain of the Tokyo Manji Gang, Y/N.”

┃ “Oh.”

┃ “Point is, he’s having a party tomorrow. We could get some revenge, I bring you as my date~”

┃ “Won’t that make him angri-

┃ “That’s what revenge is.”

┃ “Why don’t I just talk with him?”

┃ “Has he tried talking to you?”

┃ “...no.”

┃ “I rest my case.”

Silence enveloped the room once more. It wasn’t an awkward silence, no, it was quite a comfortable silence actually as he patiently awaited your response and allowed you to process and think.

┃ “When is the party exactly?”

✿ tags: @haiq-trash @blackmysticalsimp @the2ndl @bren-heron @delicatejudgecopcowboy @skiwalkers

✿ a.n. // First of all, thank you so much for 102 followers <3 I appreciate the support being given to me! I would like to address one thing, however, please don't rush me to write! I've gotten very kind messages of support but others have been demanding more of me and it's important to remember that I have classes, chores, a social life, and many other things happening. I love writing but rushing me makes it unenjoyable and it won't be my best work. My goal for this ongoing fanfic is to post weekly. Just a little ted-talk there, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter though! I had such a fun time writing it :)

[misora-msby]

embarrassing moments with inarizaki

inarizaki always looks so cool but you know they’re actually dorks and i am here to provide you the content to show theyre clowns. enjoy the headcanons :)

Kita Shinsuke

firstly. kita shinsuke being embarrased? making a mistake? unheard of.

he’s a perfect man and we all know it.

anyways

you two were having a nice dinner out together. 

it was a pretty fancy place so you decided to dress in a different style today

but you were beginning to wonder if kita liked it or not because he seemed to keep looking past your shoulder instead of at you

he was an observant guy so you were wondering if something had happened behind you

but you couldn’t hear anything weird so you assumed not

you decided to just stay quiet about it at first but now it was beginning to become annoying! 

why wasn’t he looking you in the eye to speak?

midway through your dinner, kita finally spoke up tho

“y/n, your shirt is slipping... yer bra’s showing.”

oh.

right. you were wearing your off-shoulder top.

“o-oh. shin, it’s that kind of shirt, you know?” you had to explain your outfit to ur bf with a pink face.

“oh... that so... well it’s cold these days so if yer feelin’ cold lemme know. i’ll give ya my jacket.”

GOD HES SO PERFECT KITA SHINSUKE I HOPE U MARRY HIM???????

Ojiro Aran

another man with next to no flaws.

but nature says everyone has to make some mistake.

so it was a regular school day, our aran has just come to class from morning practice and there’s still some time left until class starts.

all the girls in class are gathered around a table

he’s not sure why, it’s probably watching an idol video

but ur man wants to be a little romantic!!

plus he just showered so he smells Great uwu

he goes over and hugs you from behind, placing his chin on ur head.

“hey, bb whatcha ya doin”

all the girls gasp.

he doesn’t get whats wrong, it’s not like it’s a secret y’all are dating

pda to this level aint bad either

especially compared to his teammate miya atsumu

“ojiro aran.”

why is your voice behind him

he looks down and nearly faints when he sees he hugged the wrong girl.

to be fair she looked a lot like you from behind, just maybe 1cm shorter.

“i’m so sorry!” he keeps apologising to literally everyone and all the class is giggling bc they never seen their school’s ace so red before.

“didn’t think i’d come back from the toilet and see my bf cheatin”

“IT WAS A MISTAKE! I’M SERIOUS! Y/N U KNOW I LOVE YA!” 

hes so funny i swear

the volleyball team hears of it and it gets even better 

Miya Atsumu

it’s not a secret that miya atsumu, setter of the inarizaki volleyball team and invited to national youth training camp, had a gf

he was very much in love with u 

the whole class knew it because he’d show it off whenever he could too

so here comes valentines day

last year he received like... 50 different gifts from girls and guys aiming to win his love.

you didnt even give him one lmAOOOOO 

but this year, he had been not so subtly trying to hint that “i better not receive any chocolates this year when i’ve got a gf!”

he reaches school and plops into his seat.

there’s an anonymous box of chocolates with “please accept my love, miya-kun! <3″ on it

“the hell’s this?!”

“oh? chocolates?” - osamu who just popped his head into the class to shove into his twin’s face how much chocolate he got.

especially since the blond was off limits, the grey-haired twin had a bigger following now.

“do they not know i have a girlfriend...”

“well, ya might as well eat it. ya dont know who to return it to.”

“that’s like receivin’ their love!”

“no it ain’t. it’s just food.”

atsumu couldn’t argue with that and popped a piece in.

it was very delicious. the chocolate practically melted on his tongue and was the perfect sweetness and was filled with a delicious ganache too.

it was perfect

but he couldn’t accept this!

“it ain’t even good. too sweet and the filling’s sticky.”

“ah. really? is that what you think, tsumu?” you ask from the door where you had been watching the exchange take place.

“y/n! look at this! some weirdo gave me some choco and like... samu said to test it but i’ll toss it out, promise.”

“tsumu, i made that... i wrote it anonymously because i thought you’d know it was me and i wanted to tease you a little.”

“huh.”

osamu: “yeah actually i went over to her place to teach her how to make it.”

atsumu: “you said you went to suna’s place?!”

osamu: “i went there later but i first went to help her.”

you: “anyways if it’s not good i don’t mind if you toss it out...”

tsumu: “NO NO BABE I PROMISE IT’S GOOD”

you: “you just said-”

“BABE I SWEAR IT’S GOOD I JUST DIDN’T WANT TO ACCEPT A STRANGER’S STUFF”

“you’re always so honest though... are you sure?” you were having your fun teasing him now.

“BB PLSSSSSS”

he still cringes at the memory 4 years into ur marriage

Miya Osamu

osamu would DEFINITELY make home made dinner dates a regular thing.

this alone shows he’s the better twin - miya atsumu stan

he loves cooking and eating with you so sometimes when he’s got a day off you guys’ll set aside the afternoon to make a real nice dinner

imagine candlelit dinner with miya dorito body osamu in a suit

of course some fun stuff happens after too ;)))

and today’s your third anniversary!!

so osamu adds lots of ‘natural aphrodisiacs’ to the meal

i’m talkin

garlic bread and soup for an appetiser, a nice juicy steak with garlic and red wine sauce for the main, and chocolate coated strawberries for dessert

mm yummy

you two cleaned your plates completely (it was very delicious) and as you were washing the dishes, osamu comes up behind and wraps his arms around your waist

“yes, ‘samu?” 

“i’ve already prepared us a nice bath with yer favourite scents.” he’s got his head resting on ur chin

“really? thank you~ i’ll be there in a bit”

but he doesn’t let go of you while you’re still scrubbing at the baking sheets.

“osamu, you can let go for now.”

“don’t feel like it.”

“i gotta wash the dishes since you did most of the cooking.”

“mmm, i’ll do it if ya gimme a kiss.”

you roll ur eyes bc what a cutie 

u turn ur head to give him a kiss but suddenly he 

he burps

that garlicy wine smell is just kinda there

“ew! ‘samu!!”

his face is real red but he’s also trying not to laugh because he’s still a dude and this is absolutely hilarious to him

“want another?” he starts teasing

“i’m not getting in the bath with you.”

“wait wait wait i’m sorry, i’ll go brush my teeth and give you a proper kiss”

Suna Rintarou

you two were taking the train home today

it was quite late due to practice going a little longer than usual, so he insisted he walked you back home today.

sunarin can be a good boyf sometimes ok

it was getting a little crowded on the train tho, since people were heading home or going out for dinner

luckily you had already grabbed seats so you were quite comfortable sitting side by side. 

you and suna have the type of relationship were you dont have to talk all the time

silence is v comfy.

he’s just scrolling through twitter on his phone while you’re looking around the car, lost in ur thoughts

suddenly you notice an old lady standing a little bit away from you and you stand up

“baa-san, please take my seat.” you whisper in the crowded carriage

“oh how kind of you. thank you, dearie.” she smiles and takes your seat while you stand in front of her and suna instead.

suna doesn’t realise this exchange has happened tho

(he’s on his phone as usual)

probably starting some fights on twitter

he decides to try to be a little romantic and pretends to stretch his arm around (who he thought was) you.

“rin.” 

why is your voice right in front of him?

“young man, i appreciate it but i’m married.”

suna jumps as he sees someone he did not recognise next to him.

he looks up and notices you had moved.

you’re giggling

the granny’s giggling

atsumu and osamu sitting opposite on the carriage look like they’re going to cry because they’re trying not to laugh

“i was just stretching. really.” he mumbles and crosses his arms, face red as a tomato

he’s so embarrassed.

Ginjima Hitoshi

sometimes the inarizaki vbc would go for an after practice snack at the nearby family mart

they were really hungry after an intense preparation for nationals which was in two weeks so kita insisted they all get something to fill them up on the way home

but lucky lucky ginjima hhehe

you (his classmate who he had a crush on) were working at the cash register today.

“welcome!” you greet everyone as they enter

he cant help but stiffen up a bit 

why are u so cute and cheery today

the 2nd years already know what to do.

“heyy, i think last week i bought ya that ramen right? ya owe me my konbini snacks today!” - atsumu

“yeah. you lost a bet to me last week so u gotta pay up. a pack of jelly fruit sticks please.” - suna

“forgot my money today, mind payin’ for my snacks too?” - osamu

“like hell i’m paying for all of you. especially you, osamu. you eat too much all the time.” 

aran’s noticed what’s going on,

“hey, if it’s just for today you can do it right? if ‘samu don’t pay ya back tomorrow i’ll nag him ‘til he does.” 

“fine...” his basket is full when he goes to the counter.

he’s trying his best not to have a red face while watching u scan the items, ur hair swaying slightly as u look back and forth between the objects and the screen.

“alright. 4,890 yen please!” GOD he hated how expensive it was, that’s almost all his weekly allowance but bc it’s u and ur voice saying it it’s kinda ok

“mm, ok.” he still has his eyes on you while he takes out his wallet and puts it on the counter.

yes

his wallet, not the money

“...” “...”

“excuse me, sir. this is...”

he almost slaps his face wtf he’s so embarrassed.

“s-sorry. just a little absent minded after practice.” he starts pulling out his cash.

“it’s fine! i know how hard you guys practice!” you smile while performing the rest of the transaction and pass him his big bag of goods. “good luck for nationals, ginjima-kun!”

he almost runs out of the store and is about to fight the rest of the 2nd years for watching and (suna) recording

[robinofinashiro]

request from anon: “Hi, can I request yandere alphabet for Kyojuro Rengoku 👉👈Thank you and have a good day Queen.”

pairing: yandere! kyojuro rengoku x fem reader

request status: OPENED

A - Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

rengoku does not give a singular fuck who sees him when it comes to giving you affection! you’re in the public? you’ll be holding his hand, kissing your cheek when he feels like it, and if it’s that bad, he’ll do a quickie in the bathroom. 

B - Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

very messy! he doesn’t care. if he sees someone getting too close to you, he’ll make sure to get rid of them as soon as possible. he can’t let anyone get close to you. he’ll go to the ends of the earth to make sure that you’re by his side and that no one comes in between the two of you. 

C - Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

honestly, he’ll mock the hell out of them when he feels like it’s necessary. if you’re purposely doing things to annoy him or going out of your way to piss him off, he’ll make sure to remind you that you’re never leaving him. other than that, he’ll treat you like you’re a princess! you deserve everything in the world and he’ll give it to you if he feels like you deserve it. 

D - Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

despite from the sweet nature that he gives off, he will do ONE thing against your will and that’s to have kids. he needs to continue his family line and since Senjuro isn’t working to be a pillar anymore, he needs to make sure that someone continues that and it might have to be his kid. 

E - Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

rengoku, when he feels like the time is right, will bare everything to his darling. come on now, you’re gonna be his wife, right? it’s only right that you know what his baggage is! he doesn’t care if you judge him or not, when it comes to this sort of thing, he kinda wears his heart on his sleeve. 

F - Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

he would be kinda pissed. you’re supposed to be this perfect wife/darling and by you acting out, he doesn’t sit well with that. why can’t you be more like Sanemi’s wife? a perfect little darling that just sits there and waits for her husband like she should. punishment is a whole other ballgame that i will touch on later. 

G - Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

absolutely tf not. how can this be a game to someone? rengoku is the kinda person where if he meets someone that he falls madly in love with, he’ll stick by you until one of you dies first and even then, he might commit sewerslide if you happen to be the one to go first. however, he might get a kick watching you trying to leave him bc it’s nearly impossible to leave where you’re trapped.

H - Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

rengoku’s affection, jesus christ. that shit could get mad annoying. if he’s had a particularly bad day, just brace yourself and let it happen bc he will be one affectionate mf. it could get to the point where he’ll be affection even into the next day if it’s that bad. 

I - Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

literally a picture perfect life. (very much the american dream in a sense). he wants kids, hell, if you want pets of some sort, he’s down to adopt a few dogs or whatever you or your kids want. he just wants everyone to see that his family is perfect and how far he’s willing to go for them. 

J - Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

oh absolutely. rengoku is the type of mf that if he sees someone flirting with his darling, he’s ending that shit QUICK. he cannot and will not let it happen. clearly it isn’t your fault so he’ll console you that you had no way of knowing what that scums intentions were and after he’s done with that, he’ll try to find the person to give them a lesson. 

K - Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling

he will be very clingy like i said. he wants everyone to know that his relationship is perfect but in private, double that. he’ll make sure that you know you’re loved and that he wouldn’t trade his life with you for anything in the world. 

L - Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

he would try the attempt to court you at first. rengoku is someone who is very charming so 8/10 times, it’ll work. however, if you’re being stubborn, that’s when the other side of rengoku comes out. but if you do decide to date him willingly, he’s the sweetest mf ever. he’ll bring you courting gives to every date, etc, etc. 

M - Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

honestly, rengoku is seen as the black sheep in the sense that he’s always readily happy and enthusiastic. not much changes when he’s in the public. unless you happen to piss him off in public, seemingly the only time when he would change his personality. 

N - Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

he doesn’t try to do it often, he hates seeing you hurt. but if you happen to actually piss him off to the point where you need to be punished, anything ranging from being alone for days to sexual punishment (that i wont be going into detail for).

O - Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

not many tbh. you have free range into his entire estate. however if he has maids working around, they know it’s best for them not to talk to you. he wont let you leave his estate to speak to anyone. you have the right to anything as long as you’re not trying to leave or get into contact with someone. he’ll even let you visit your friends or family as long as he’s there. 

P - Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

eh, he’s about 50/50. he can be very patient with you or be ticked off almost immediately. more than likely tho, he’ll deal with your shit most days. the days that he doesn’t, it’s probably bc he had already probably had a bad day and you’re just making shit worse. 

Q - Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

if you die, rengoku won’t move on and like i said before, he’d probably commit sleep forever. if you escape, he’ll spend the rest of his days looking for you. regardless if you escape or die, he won’t move on. you’re his and you will remain that way important person in his life. 

R - Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

to a certain point, he’d feel guilty. i think the only thing eating him up is the unethical part in all of this. the fact that he’s basically abducted you and refuses to let you go. but will he ever let you go? absolutely not. you’d have to kill him before that happens. 

S - Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

i see the only way this happening is bc of his life. his childhood wasn’t the greatest but it wasn’t exactly the worst so idk, i think more than anything it was out of curiosity and probably seeing others do it that make him snap. 

T - Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

if rengoku isn’t at fault for making you upset, he’s HEARTBROKEN. he doesn’t like seeing you that way and he’ll find the person that did it and make them pay for it. HOWEVER, if he was the cause of it, he almost turns into a wall and brushes it off, probably murmuring that you deserved whatever it is that made you cry. 

U -Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

honestly no. he wouldn’t only bc he’s very much the person that finds the classics of being a yandere as the only way to do it. anything like killing your darling or along those lines are way to extreme for him and he doesn’t like it when others step out of line. 

V - Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

SENJURO RENGOKU. his little brother is also his world and i think if you catch kyojuro in a situation where you can exploit senjuro, he might give in but honestly, it probably won’t hurt and it’ll be worse for you when he finally has you alone. 

W - Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

like i said before, only if it was necessary. he wouldn’t ever intentionally hurt you if you didn’t deserve it. he doesn’t like seeing you hurt and he hates seeing you cry so only if it came to you being a brat would he then actively physically punish you. 

X - Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

ehhhhhh, not really. he sees this relationship as 50/50 however he did kinda worship you when he wasn’t your boyfriend/husband but he would go different lengths in order to win you over. he doesn’t really care what he has to do, he will make you his whether you like it or not. 

Y - Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

tbh, it doesn’t take long before he snaps. if he sees you going out with someone and he feels like you might leave him, that’ll be a point. if he sees you being too free, that might be another point. in general, less than a year before he snaps. hell, less than half a year. 

Z - Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

mentally, YES! physically, if he needed to. but not to the point where he’s killed you. 

[heyheyloki]

U&I

Summary: The reader begins to realize his feelings for Saiki.

Saiki x M!Reader

Word Count: 8711

1. The Best Friends

Being friends with a psychic definitely had its ups and downs. At first, you didn’t notice a thing out of the ordinary with Saiki, well, granted you were kids when the both of you met so naturally you just wanted to be friends and thought nothing more. However, he noticed something odd with you the moment you two met.

He couldn’t read your mind.

Actually forget being about to read your mind, none of his psychic abilities worked on you. He couldn’t see through you and when he touched you without his super thin transparent gloves on nothing happened. You were basically immune to him.

At first, he thought something was wrong with you, or that maybe you had some psychic powers as well. That wasn’t the case at all. In reality, you were a normal human without any powers or tricks. That stumped Saiki even more, but it also became the soul reason he wanted to be your friend as well.

For one, he didn’t have to deal with your thoughts. Two, his image of you wasn’t ruined because he can’t see under your skin. Three, your calmer personality made him relax. And of course all those other things like your kindness and stuff, but those were irrelevant the moment he knew he couldn’t read your mind.

It’s been years since he met you in the park during recess, and now here you guys were, 16 years later and still friends. Oh, there was one thing that bothered him about you.

“What to hang out today?” You asked as you slung your bag over your shoulder.

“Sure.” Saiki said. Yep. That’s right, since he can’t get in your mind, he actually has to move his mouth when he talks to you.

It was a bit weird to others that he never did it with anyone else other than you, but he didn’t care.

On the way home he couldn’t help but notice you eyeing his antennas, the things that keep his powers stable. He turned his head towards you and gave you a curiosity look.

“Do those things poke at your head at all?” You asked, moving you hand up to poke at the top of the pink ball. “Like, does it make your head ichy?”

Saiki shook his head. He knew he had to talk to you at some points, but times like these he didn’t. He enjoyed that about you too, that you don’t force him to talk all the time. You knew it was a bit weird for him to talk, he explained it to you when he told you all about his powers.

“Hm,” you hummed out. Your hands going back at your side and into your pant pockets. “It would for me, if I was you. They just look painful, but I guess you gotta do what you gotta do if you don’t wanna blow up the world.”

Saiki nodded his head, his eyes continuing to linger on you. It was one days like these when he saw you thinking so hard about something that he wished he could just take a peak. At some points, he loved the silence, especially when the both of you were watching movies, but right now, especially in this moment, he’d give anything to know. It was mostly prominent when he’d stare at you during class and you’d have this far out look in your orbs, you drew him in, and perhaps that’s why he fell for you.

Though, there were other factors that won his favor. Mostly the fact that, unlike everyone else, he can’t stare right through you and just see your raw muscles and pumping organs. Instead, he was able to focus on your handsome face and not get side tracked about your racing thoughts. You were the only person in the world that make him feel somewhat normal. That was a love-hate relationship at times.

“Think I could sleep over tonight?” You suddenly asked, “we don’t have school tomorrow.”

Saiki stared at you for a moment just to relish in that fact that nothing worked on you. No telekinesis, mind control, no nothing. He was going to have to win your favor just like everyone else. To him, it wasn’t normal, but looking at you, he didn’t seem to mind the extra work.

“Sure,” Saiki said. He still had trouble talking aloud, hell, sometimes he will actually use telekinesis and wait for your response only to have pure silence. “My parents are leaving for a wedding, so the house should be free for a while.”

When the two of you got to Saiki’s house, it was a bit peaceful until his parents had to head out. You liked his mom and dad a lot, they were like your second family, so you wanted to wish them a good time. It was for one Saiki’s dad’s coworkers.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come with us?” Saiki’s dad asked his son. “You’ve met Kirishima before, and you can bring [Name] as your plus one date.”

You knew Saiki wasn’t going to be interested in a wedding. He always told you normal happy events for others is misery for him since he can hear the jealousy and pity that the crowd is thinking. You felt sorry that he couldn’t turn it off, but you were glad that you were the only person he could catch a break with. However, when you looking over at Saiki, he seemed to entertain the thought.

It was a new side to Saiki, one that made you confused. It was always either you or no one. You could tell the way he wanted to get away from many of the people in his class that seemed to have declared themselves his friends from a small interaction. Sure, you felt their interest, but it was just a bit sad to you that Saiki could never actually enjoy friends unless they were pure. Otherwise, he could hear all the backstabbing thoughts or otherwise stupid comments that go around in their brain that was thought to be private to them.

“I’m going to have to pass,” you commented. “I don’t have a suit, besides, you two should enjoy the night. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you both go out alone.”

Saiki’s mom smiled widely at you. Her eyes clouding over with a wet film before wrapping her arms around you for a tight hug. “Ah, thank you, [Name]! What would we do without you?”

You chuckled softy at the comment before saying, “Who knows, I rather not think about that.”

When she finally let you go, you and Saiki waved the both of them off as they left. Honestly, you weren’t sure if they’d even make it back at a reasonable time. It was a wedding, after all. Oh well, as long as they make it back drunk and safe rather than drunk and not safe, you didn’t mind. You were sleeping over anyway, so right now, you just wanted to hang out with your childhood best friend.

“What do you wanna do?” You asked with a calming tone.

Saiki turned his head to you. “TV?”

“Sure,” you smiled. However, as soon as you turned to the living room, you noticed the absolute mess his parents left behind. So, out of the goodness of your heart, you said, “How about you find something and all clean up this in the meantime. Sound good?”

Saiki nodded once more. He truly thought your actions were kind, but he rather have you watching TV with him than picking up his dad’s dirty clothes. He knew his father tended to be sloppy, but this was just a mess.

As you were about to pick up a pair of jeans, all the clothes that were strewn about the floor suddenly started to float in the air and shoot into the open washing machine. The trash floated itself into the garage while everything else was moved around to make it look clean until otherwise.

You pressed your lips together as your brows furrowed in annoyance. Once you turned to Saiki and saw his innocence face, you knew you couldn’t be angry but you had to ask, “Do you really want me to watch TV with you that bad?”

“Yes,” Saiki stated.

You sighed, your lips parting as you left the oxygen leave your lungs. “Fine, but let’s both clean up a bit before than. It’ll be a nice surprise and a way to thank your parents for letting me stay the night.”

Saiki nodded. “Okay.”

It took a bit of convincing on your end to let him let you help out. You may not have powers, but you didn’t want to take advantage of his. You knew it was effortless and he made it seem like it didn’t affect him whatsoever, but you knew every time he does something it takes a toll. His powers aren’t perfect.

You both ended up cleaning the living room, Saiki’s room, and now you were in the kitchen sorting the trash. Saiki was using his powers to sort while you whipped down the countertops.

“Good grief,” Saiki said aloud, his voice drawing your eyes to him. He was crouched down with two bags in front of him and the garage floating upside down, it’s contents was either going in the first or second bag.

“What?” You asked curiosity. It wasn’t all the time that he speaks from his mouth without you talking first.

“How could anyone have let it get this dirty in here?” He asked aloud. “I mean, really it’s a wonder we don’t have bugs.”

You were going to respond. That was until he suddenly shut his mouth, a chest deep grunt leaving him as you notice him stare at something on the furniture next to him.

It was a cockroach.

Mind you, the moment you realized what it was you weren’t the least bit surprised when he suddenly teleported. Saiki hates bugs. He could read the minds of humans, as well as animals, but he couldn’t with bugs. He thought they were small minded icky things. Hell, he couldn’t even let his powers touch the thing.

You counted down the seconds before he came back. It was around ten, maybe fifteen. He also teleported right behind you.

“Welcome back,” you greeted and watched as his eyes dart towards the floor.

“Sorry, I may have overreacted.” He muttered. “I just hate them.”

“I know,” you hummed out before looking around and grabbing a cup and piece of paper. Saiki watched you as you let the roach crawl on the piece of paper before placing the cup over it so it didn’t run away. You were quick to put it outside and close the window after so Saiki didn’t worry about it coming back in.

“All gone,” you cheered with a smile. “Now, let’s watch TV, ya?”

2. Saiki’s Pushy Friends

PK Academy was a school were many different personalities and people collided. It was always fun to meet new people in this school, yet on the other side of the coin, sometimes they were more than a little odd. Not like you can speak, your best friend was a psychic. Though, he wasn’t delusional like this one guy in your class that declared himself Saiki’s friend. His name was Kaido. He thinks he has powers and has an evil organization following him around.

Then, you have Nendou. Basically, he’s stupid. Not that you minded, but sometimes being stupid isn’t the best thing in the world, especially now.

It was the sports festival at PK and Saiki and you had to participate in it. You both were on the same team since all the teams were decided by class. This also gave you a good idea of the friends Saiki has made. It was safe to say that Kaido was growing on you. You felt a little bad for the guy, what can you say.

Let’s not forget about Hairo as well. You knew him a bit more from hearsay than the others, plus he was class rep. Though, you had to say, he was a little too overly enthusiastic.

It was kind of a surprise to see Teruhashi, the most popular girl in school, try and interact with Saiki. Though, it was a bit amusing since to him, she’s nothing more than walking muscle. However, you did think he would swoon over her like all the other guys in your school if she was like you. However, you knew Saiki had no interest in romance so you don’t care either way.

Finally, Nendou. You were originally going to say that you didn’t mind the guy that much and thought maybe he would be a good thing for Saiki. However, after just watching him take out one of the antennas from Saiki’s head, you started to wonder how much of a danger his stupidity is to Saiki.

You watched that pink haired friend of yours collapse to the ground with a hard thud as soon as Nendou pull the thing out of his head. You were quick to rush over to him and sit by his side. When you flipped him over, since he fell face forward, worry grew about your body and infected your bloodstream.

You heard protests about turning him over, but at this point all the worried voices drowned before they were even audible to you. His lips were parted as drool leaked from his mouth and went down his chin, his eyes dead and without life as darkness surrounded them. It didn’t take you long to recover and swipe the antenna Nendou was holding and pop it back in its rightful place in his pink locks.

You didn’t know how long it would take for him to wake up, or if he’d wake up at all. All you knew was to sit and wait for him to wake up. To your surprise, he woke up rather quickly. Maybe a mere minute or so after you fixed him up. When his eyes opened, you felt yourself suddenly get surrounded as Saiki’s friends crowed over him to ask how he was.

You noticed him using telepathy to talk to everyone when Hairo said, “You passed out after Nendou took that think out of your head, lucky for you, [Name] put it back right away!”

“Yeah, he saved your life!” Kaido spit out next, their hands placing on my shoulder out of respect and gratitude. 

Saiki’s eye then direct to you, his voice never leaving his lips for a moment before you noticed him flinch.

‘Ah,’ you thought. ‘He tried to use telepathy with me again.’

When he noticed, Saiki just nodded in your direction. You knew he was thanking you, he didn’t need to word it out to you. The look in his eyes was enough.

Lunch came immediately after Saiki ended up waking up, and it was understatement to say he didn’t want to be bother with anyone else besides you. He was quick to drag you to the roof of the school to eat.

The both of you sat against the railing, lunch in your laps. You wanted I just forget about the scare that Saiki gave you, but the after effects he was having wasn’t making that easy. He was having trouble, and it was easy to see when his hands were shaking so much that he couldn’t even pick up his food without it falling back in the box.

You side eyed him, his expression one of concentration as he tried to pick up his food again. Though, he dropped it again.

He sighed quickly after that, only looking down at his food as you saw his mind wonder off.

Once you finished chewing whatever food you had in your mouth, you placed your food to the side and moved so that you weren’t side to side, but rather across from Saiki’s body now. He didn’t register your movements until he saw a hand come into his view and pick up an item of food with his chopsticks.

When he turned to you, you had the chopsticks in your dominant hand and your other under the food so it didn’t drop to the filthy ground.

“C’mon, lemme help,” you said. It was easy for Saiki to pick up the worry in your tone, however he knew not to address it or else you’ll just either deny it or baby him. “Open up.”

He obeyed your command after a moment, opening his mouth wide enough for you to place his food in his mouth. The hand that was meant to catch the food if it fell made sure Saiki closed his mouth, his fingers placed a bit of pressure under his chin to shut his jaws before slowly trailing away. The food wasn’t nearly as satisfying as the chill that ran down his spine at your lingering touch that crawled on his skin.

“I could hurt you.” He suddenly spit out. It was pained. “Having my antenna taken out messed up my powers.”

You leaned your head to the side, your eyes never falling from his. “Yeah, I kinda figured.”

“You should go.” He stated.

“Why?”

“I just told you.”

You smiled. “Saiki, you could never hurt me.”

He looked at you like you had something stuck in your teeth. “You don’t know that, I may not be able to read your mind, but I don’t know how my other powers react to you.”

You remained quiet for a moment before shuffling your body side by side again, your head falling to rest of Saiki’s shoulder. You felt him flinch at the contact, his muscles even began to tighten just out of fear.

“Yanno,” you started out saying, your hand coming up to play the antenna that you could reach. “It’s odd to me how these things are the only thing keeping you stable.”

“Is it?”

You chuckled and nodded. “Small things like these verses your powers. The thing that gets me is that these things actually win in that fight. Though, I suppose it does complete the look you have.”

“And what look is that?” Saiki asked as he gazed down at you to see your eyes already on him. He could feel his fingers twitch as he watched you say shamelessly, “The cute, mysterious loner type.”

Saiki’s lips parted as he gazed at you. He quickly recomposed himself when he noticed you waiting patiently for him to respond. He sighed before asking, “Mysterious loner? Where’d you get that?”

You laughed before sarcastically questioning, “yep, I wonder where.”

3. Your friends are my friends

You don’t know how you got wrapped into this, but perhaps it’ll allow you to know Saiki’s friends better.

Currently, you were walking with Kaido, Nendou, and Saiki to a good ramen shop Nendou suggested. You were dragged along when Nendou remembered you from the Sports Festival and as Saiki’s friend. They never really got the chance to speak to you since you’re usually out the door as soon as the bell rings, but today they finally caught you.

At some point Teruhashi joined the group, though you feel like she kinda took over since now the boys, except for Saiki and you, were fawning over her. Saiki and you took it upon yourselves to give them all room to talk to her, so you both sorts trailed behind.

It was silent for a while, the only noise was Nendou or Kaido talking to Teruhashi. However, you caught the, “what does that even mean,” that Saiki mumbled under his breath.

“Hm?” You hummed. “What does what mean?”

It was obvious to you he didn’t realize he said that aloud. But he just seemed to be glad that only you heard that.

“Teruhashi wants me to go ‘oh wow’ or something to her.” Saiki revealed. “I don’t even know what that means.”

You kept your gaze on Saiki for a moment. “So, she likes you?”

“I guess,” he muttered. “I think it’s more that I’m the only guy that isn’t kissing her feet.”

You watched Teruhashi interact with Nendou and Kaido. You know that, normally, she wouldn’t take time to hang out with these guys. However, because of her crush on Saiki, she bares with them. In all honesty, she seems a bit perfect. Being able to deal with them just for the person she adores. It’s easy for anyone to do, and not a lot of people would even bother.

“She seems like a good fit for you.” You suddenly uttered out.

When Saiki heard that, he felt his hands twitch. He didn’t like that, not one bit. What irked him the most was that it seemed natural, like you actually meant it. And, of course, he had no way of knowing if those words were genuine or actually forced.

“No way,” Saiki stated coldly. “Never in a million years.”

“Damn, that’s cold, Saiki.” He heard you say, a teasing tone wedged in your voice.

“Why do you keep calling me Saiki, anyway? We aren’t acquaintances.”

“Hm?” You questioned. “I thought you don’t like me calling you by your first name in public?”

Saiki sighed. “Well now I’m telling you I don’t care.”

Saiki knew this way of showing that you were closer to him than anyone would ever be may have been childish on his part, but when he heard his first name come from your lips in front of his other ‘friends’, he felt more than satisfied. 

4. Friendship Can Bring Romance

Being able to rest during class was one of your guilty pleasures. Even if you got called out by your teacher, you didn’t mind. It was better when it was raining outside, the patter of rain when it hit the window made you want to nap.

“Hey,” a voice called out to you. You didn’t listen though, it wasn’t important.

“Hey, [Name],” it called out again. Okay, maybe you should wake up. Then again, sleep. You could always sleep later though.

You fluttered your eyes open as you felt your body being pushed around. When your sight became focused, the blurry figure in front of you showed a blue hair kid. You knew him, but from where?

“Saiki asked me to wake you up, sorry,” he confessed.

Oh, right. That’s Kaido, Saiki’s friend.

“Hm? Where is Kusuo?” You asked in a groggy voice, your hand coming up to wipe your eyes.

“Oh, he went home.” Kaido informed you. “Something just came up, I guess.”

“Alright,” you hummed before the end of your lips pulled upward. “Thank you, Kaido.”

It wasn’t easy for Kaido to wake up the quiet kid. Kaido only met the guy once or twice, and when he was hanging with him, you only stayed close to Saiki. It was kinda odd, but Kaido understood your attachment to the pink haired man. Saiki was Kaido’s first friend, after all, so he knew how awesome the guy was.

Though, he’s never got the chance to speak to you. He knows Saiki never really goes anywhere with you, and somehow you always end up by his side. He just always seemed to miss you when it came to getting the chance to introduce himself so Kaido was pretty glad when you came along the trip to that ramen place, even if it was a dumb and he got distracted by Teruhashi.

Kaido knew you were the closest person to Saiki. He’s pretty sure that not even Nendou is as close to Saiki as you are. And those two are best friends. Kaido didn’t know the extend of how long you two have been friends, but he does know from watching that Saiki has respect for you. So, it was critical that he makes a great impression with you so that he can become closer to Saiki and maybe you as well.

“S-Sure, no problem!” He stuttered, his bandaged hand retracting from your shoulder and holding them up in the air in a surrendered notion.

“Do you live around here at all? I’ll walk you home as a thank you.” You said as you stood from your seat and began to search for your bag.

“What? You don’t have to do that, really, it isn’t necessary!” Kaido spit out quickly, his words jumping all over the place.

“It’s really no trouble at all,” you stated as you put your bag over your shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get going before the rain gets worse.”

The rain eventually stopped when both teens got closer to your house. Kaido’s was further ahead, so he thought it would be better if he just walked you home instead so you didn’t have to walk more than you have to already.

“So, you’ve been friends with Saiki since he was little, huh?” Kaido asked as you explained why Saiki trusts you so much. “That’s pretty awesome! What was he like back then?”

“Pretty much the same.” You answered. “Though he did get more handsome throughout the years, and he used to be kinda sweet. Now, not so much.”

“I see, so you guys have been through it all together.” Kaido replied.

“Basically, though, he did start to worry me a bit since I was his only friend for a really long time,” you confessed. You paused as you looked up at Kaido and gave him a smile, “But I’m glad he finally made a friend like you.”

Kaido could feel his heart beat a million miles an hour just at the words you strung together. He never heard kinder words than those, and he was even more thrilled that he succeeded in making a good impression on Saiki’s childhood friend!

“It’s, uh, n-no problem, really!” Kaido muttered out as his whole face began to fluster, his hands going everywhere.

“Oh,” you hummed out.

“Hm?” Kaido questioned. His nerves going down. “What is it?”

“Did you know you were dragging your scarf the whole time?” You asked curiosity as your hands started to real in the extra fabric.

“What?” He asked out of pure shock. Though, realizing that he doesn’t make a fool out of himself he said, “O-Of course I did! It’s a fashion choice.”

“Not the best one,” you stated as you stepped closer to the blue haired male.

Kaido’s eyes widened as he stated directly into your colored orbs, watching them dance solely for him. It was like getting attention from a loved one, but this attention make him nervous to the point where he thought his face was going to explode with red. Kaido’s lips slowly started to disappear as the scarf started to build up around his shoulders and neck.

“There you go,” you said, “much better. Now your scarf doesn’t get more dirty and you look even better.”

‘Even better? What’s that supposed to mean? Does it.. does it mean he thought I looked good before?!’ Kaido thought.

Kaido let out an awkward laugh as he played with the end of the scarf. “O-Oh, haha, thank you.”

“Sure,” you hummed. “Now let’s get going.”

5. Blessing Turned On Jealousy

What’s that saying, the enemy of my enemy is my friend? Yeah, that’s it. See, that could apply to this yet at the same time it would go a little different.

More like, the enemy of my best friend is my friend. At least for your situation. You see, walking home with Saiki has now turned into walking home with Saiki, Nendou, and Kaido. Not that you mind, but sometimes you really do wish it was back to when Saiki and you got to spend time alone together. However, being friends with Saiki and then having his friends automatically become your friends may have some perks.

Like now. Bumping into Kaido’s mom was totally accidental. But, in the end it payed off. Why?

Because coffee jelly.

“I know it’s not easy being friends with my son because he’s so shy, but please be patient.” Kaido’s mom announced as she placed the coffee jelly down in front of Saiki and you.

“Please don’t say that mama—I mean—mother.” Kaido pleased, his voice cracking as it got higher with embarrassment.

Overall, the beginning was a very nice. Hell, it was damn near perfect. Although, you just had to snoop around. Well, it was more like exploring Kaido’s room.

Your fingertips brushed along the spines of the many books Kaido had stacked up in his bookcase. It was seriously amazing how many books he had, he even had some original copies of some famous old books.

“This is pretty awesome,” you muttered to yourself before your eyes spotted something that didn’t quite match with the others. In all honesty, you were simply curious. However, curiosity did kill the cat. In your case, more like awakened the Saiki K.

“Hey, Kaido, what is the Jet Black Wings?” You asked aloud as the group sat down eating whatever snacks were about. You would always hear either chewing or at least some conversation, but after that question left your mouth it was dead silent. You felt like you killed something, but when you looked over you noticed Kaido’s face beat red. Seriously, his entire face was as red as a blood moon.

“P-Put that back!” He stuttered out, the blue haired boy suddenly running up to you to snatch the book from your hand.

As he reached for it, you held it higher. Even if he was about the same height or maybe a inch or so taller, you just needed to make him miss his hand from grabbing it.

“Don’t be embarrassed, I’m just curious.” You calmly said. “Is it bad or something?”

“N-No! It’s nothing, uh, bad! Just give me it back!” Kaido begged this time around, his hands trying desperately to grab it from you. Okay, maybe you were being a little mean at this point, but it was kinda fun to tease him.

You began to back up as Kaido trying to nab the book in your hand. “Just explain it!”

“No! Never!” He shouted.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little, though, that was your fatal mistake. Having yourself distracted by your own humor, your mind didn’t take into account the pile of prep books scattered about until it was too late. You quickly lost your voice, as well as your balance before slamming your head hard against the wood floors.

“Woah! You guys okay?” Nendou asked out of genuine concern.

As much as you would have liked to answer him, you were too concerned with the pain pounding into your skull like a jackhammer. Seriously, this is gonna give you one massive headache.

You scrunched your nose as your finally gave effort to open your eyes, though, they permanently remained open when you noticed a face staring down at you, a body on top of yours. You guessed that during the fall Kaido tried to save you, but only got dragged along instead.

“H-Hey, um, are you okay?” He asked under his shaky breath.

You only nodded before trying to avoid his gaze in any possible way. The position you were in didn’t help whatsoever in that department. Instead, you hoped that Kaido would take the hint and get off. That plan wasn’t looking too good cause all that was running through his mind was how you looked under him. Let’s say, the thoughts he had left a distaste in Saiki’s mouth.

Originally, he was just gonna let you handle it, but after hearing Kaido’s perverted thoughts about you, that plan blew up.

Saiki stood up, leaving his coffee jelly half eaten before grabbing Kaido by the back of his shirt and yanking him off of you. Saiki gave some strength into that but not enough to launch him into the bookshelf like he wanted too. He knelt down to come to your level and help you up, your massive headache being noticeable when you held onto the back of your head.

“Damnit, that really hurt,” you muttered to yourself but Saiki heard it clear as day.

It wasn’t long after that he took you home as well as the left over coffee jelly. Saiki advised you to stay home a day just to let the pain die down a bit before going back to school, so, the pink haired boy was all alone today. And all alone to everyone else meant to bother him more than usual.

Teruhashi, Nendou, Hairo. All of them. Though, it was a bit weird that Kaido wasn’t bothering with him today. Not that he was complaining, but he couldn’t pinpoint the answer until he heard Kaido’s thoughts, ‘I need to ask Saiki for permission. They’re best friends, it would be rude if I didn’t ask permission to ask out [Name].’

Never mind. He didn’t need to know that.

It was around lunch time that Kaido walked up to Saiki for the first one, the blush that littered his cheeks made Saiki want to gag for a moment.

“So, uh, Saiki, I have to ask you something.” Kaido uttered out lowly. Clearly, this was nerve wracking for him.

“What is it?” Saiki asked telepathically.

“Well, it’s about [Name], yanno, our [Name]?”

‘What other person has that name?’ Saiki thought. ‘And don’t say our, it’s creepy.’

“You see, I, well, I think I like him and I’d like your blessing to ask him out!” Kaido shouted, his body bowing at an almost 90 degree angle.

Normally, Saiki would just say to do whatever since he could read [Name]’s thoughts and see that he doesn’t like Kaido in that way. However, the one person in the world that Saiki actually wants is immune to his powers. He knew he needed to shut this down fast.

‘No way.’ Saiki responded.

“Thank you so much, Saiki, you won’t—wait—why not?” Kaido asked aloud, his voice getting higher the more he freaked out. He thought this would be easy, he means, it was Saiki. The most chill guy ever actually gave him a hard ‘no’ to asking out his best friend. Kaido shouldn’t be surprised, even though he is.

‘Because I said so,’ Saiki strictly put. He knew it was wrong to say this, who was he to say no to something that isn’t his business. Though, the feeling of relief that he still had a chance was more satisfying in the end.

By the time Saiki got to your house it was basically as soon as school ended. He used teleportation to get here as fast as he could, as well as just appear in your room. He wasn’t expecting you to still be asleep, though, he supposed this wasn’t too bad.

The pink haired male carefully walking up to the bedside of his best friend. It was odd to see your hair going in one direction instead of all over the place like normal, and don’t even get him started on the soft snores that came from your nose. Snoring isn’t usually the most attractive thing in the world, but this light snores from you made him think of the habit as cute.

Now, he would normally wake you up. But, just allowing himself to look at you for a moment longer without any consequences never hurt anybody. Saiki sat himself down on your floor, his eyes keeping to your closed ones as they slowly began to travel down to your lips. He doesn’t know what came over him, but it seriously began to freak him out when he started think about Kaido touching his lips with yours. After the freak out, jealousy was spiraling around in the psychic. He never knew that Kaido, of all people, would actually develop romantic feelings for you. If he did, he would have never allowed the both of you to interact the way you did at his house the other day.

Saiki let out a sigh before standing up once more, his hand came up to your shoulder slowly and began to shake it. It wasn’t long after that your eyes fluttered open and gave him that soft smile that caused his heart to skip a beat.

6. School Trip

The school trip was always the most looked forward to activity in high school. This year it was a three day trip to Okinawa. While you were excited to spend some time at a gorgeous place like Okinawa, Saiki was definitely less excited.

As kids talked with their friends in a group or just at their desks, you were currently sitting on top of Saiki’s desk with the pink haired boy sitting in the chair. This wasn’t something you always do, especially since at times Saiki has pushed you off out of retaliation, but after a moment or two of still being there, you knew he didn’t mind today.

“You excited?” You asked him.

“No. I don’t get the appeal.” He spit out, his eyes closing as he moved his head down. “I could get to Okinawa in three minutes.”

“Kusuo, not everyone is like you.” You explained. “So don’t go getting moody on this trip, I’m not letting you ruin it for me.”

“I won’t, I’m just saying a fact.” He replied.

You were about to continue with things you’re excited to do during the trip before Hairo came around to the both of you with a clip board in hand. He was responsible for dividing rooms.

“Saiki, [Name], did you guys decide on your group for the class trip?” He asked politely. “You should have three boys and three girls in your group.”

Saiki didn’t say anything, instead he just rested his head against your forearm. Perhaps he wanted Hairo to think he fell asleep and leave it to you, or maybe he was actually saying that he didn’t care as long as he was with you. Either way, you smiled at the contact and said to Hairo, “Kusuo and I will be rooming, it doesn’t matter who else is in our group.”

“Okay, great!” Hairo exclaimed as he wrote it down. “Kaido and Nendou are still available so I’ll just place Kaido with your group, and then randomly place you guys with a girls group.”

“Thanks, Hairo,” you hummed out as he walked away to probably inform Kaido about the rooming.

You never minded contact with Saiki, in fact, you sort of enjoyed it. However, seeing him still like this, even with Hario now gone, you worried.

“Hey, Kusuo,” you called out.

No answer.

“Kusuo?” You asked this time. And when he didn’t answer again you unconsciously moved your hand up to his head and moved it back to where you could look him in the eyes. Saiki’s face was still without expression, though, those eyes worried you. He seemed, almost, upset.

“Kusuo?” You asked. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, signaling that nothing was wrong. You knew he was lying.

You tilted your head, some of your hair moving with gravity to expose part of your forehead. “Why are you lying to me?”

“I’m not.” He said, his voice was steady and yet, that look in his eyes still bothered you.

You knew he wasn’t going to budge but still, just because you’re going to let it go now doesn’t mean that you weren’t about to keep an eye on him.

Throughout the beginning and the first day of the trip, you kept an eye on Saiki. He seemed way more tired than usual, but that didn’t startle you. Instead, it was how he was by your side more often now when Kaido was around. You weren’t an idiot, it was pretty obvious. You didn’t mind Saiki’s attention, but you didn’t want him to think just because you were friends with Kaido that he’d be put second.

“Kusuo, can we talk?” You asked him as the two of you had the room to yourselves. The others were out and about, but the two of you decided on an early night.

“About what?” He asked as he set up his sleeping area.

“Today.” You started out. “You’ve been acting weird around Kaido. Did something happen?”

You watched Saiki carefully, so carefully that you noticed his fingers lightly curl around the blanket. You didn’t want to push him, so instead of pushing him to speak, you allowed yourself to be silent and let him take his time. You don’t remember how many minutes pasted, but you swear it felt like decades.

“Nothing happened.” He informed you. “His thoughts just aren’t for my taste at the moment.”

“His thoughts?” You questioned as you slowly approached Saiki on his blanket until you were right in front of him. “Okay, then, what’s got you all bothered? Let me guess, he’s thinking dirty things, right?”

“Sort of.” He replied.

“I bet it’s about Teruhashi,” you theorized. “Is that why you don’t like it?”

“No, it’s not about Teruhashi.”

“Really? Then who?”

Saiki went quiet once more.

You sighed. Your head moving down to get a glimpse at his face. It wasn’t until you moved your hand over by his, your finger tips brushing with his accidentally to get more stability as you leaned in did you hear him finally confess.

“It was about you.”

To say that you needed a minute to take that in was an understatement. Kaido was a good guy and all, but it was kinda startling to realize he liked guys, as well as girls, since you didn’t suspect that even for a minute with him.

“Seriously?” You asked once more.

Saiki nodded. “He asked me if he could ask you out.”

“And what did you say?”

“No.”

You couldn’t help a smile crawl upon your face with that one. You knew it was a bit hard to read Saiki, especially when it came to you, but you were just beyond happy to hear that.

“Good,” you suddenly shot out. Saiki’s head moving back up in an instant to see your happy features. “I don’t like Kaido like that anyway, saves me from breaking his heart.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope.” You hummed out. You knew this may backfire on you in more ways than one, but right now, you didn’t care. The happiness you felt told you to take a chance and throw out the bait. “I know you can’t read my mind, but I actually do have someone I like.”

Saiki aimlessly stared at you for a moment and took in the words you confessed to him. It was an odd feeling, the rapid beating of his heart, but perhaps this was finally the start of things going his way for once.

On the second day of the trip, everyone went to Emerald Beach. It was one of the many places were people could stare at others and no one would think anything of it. A perverts dream. Though, for Saiki, he just wanted to hang out with you.

“Where’s [Name]?” Kaido asked Nendou as Saiki stood behind the two.

“He said he had to go buy a swimsuit. The one he brought apparently went missing.” Nendou told the blue haired boy.

Now, that want a mistake. Sure, it may have been a dirty trick but Saiki rather die than see you in the swimsuit you brought. After all, you bought a shirt with it. He knew you didn’t take off your shirt often, even at the beach, but he was determined to see you with just a pair of shorts.

Much like how all the guys that crowded around the girls changing house waited patiently to see Teruhashi in a two piece swim suit.

It was a while after Teruhashi came out, and when everyone was in the water that you made your appearance. You had your hands wedged into your swim shirt pockets as you allowed your feet to take in the hot sand that felt magical between your toes. You gazed around for a moment before noticing pink hair sitting under an umbrella.

A devilish smirk crawled on your features as you began to slowly approach the male. This may give Saiki a heart attack, but it was worth it. As you stood over him from behind, you attacked. Your body shot down as your arms wrapped aruund his neck and pushed your chest into his bare back.

“Hey, what’s a cute guy like you doing all alone at a place like this?” You teased, allowing your voice to go on for some time so that he realized it was just you.

Saiki immediately flinched at the contact before noticing it was just you. However, when he noticed the touch of your skin against his, he could feel his entire body heat up. The sensation was new, he’s felt his face go hot before, but his entire body was a new one.

“What took you so long?” Saiki tried to play off.

You just sighed and got a tighter grip on the male, your chest pushing more into his back. “Someone stole my swimsuit. Sadly, I didn’t have enough money to replace the whole thing, so I had to go by some swim shorts.”

“Hm, as least you’re here.” Saiki stated, making sure not to comment on the ‘stolen swimsuit’.

“Yeah,” you uttered as you released Saiki from your grasp and sat down next to him. You gazed out at the beautiful ocean that was filled with laughing people with this loving look in your eyes, all the while not realizing Saiki’s held that same gaze as he stared at you.

When you did turn to him, he completely lost himself in his mind as his eyes wondered about your figure. You weren’t the most fit guy in the world, but you did have these subtle yet enchanting muscle lines along your upper body that made Saiki lose himself.

“I saw that.” You suddenly said. Saiki’s eyes now darting back to yours. “You just checked me out.”

Saiki saw no way out of this one. So, he just confessed it. “So what if I was?”

In all honesty, he just expected you to laugh and tell him that it’s only fair if he does the same. However, the twist was unexpected and, well, definitely appreciated. He watched as you gazed down, this bashful look in your eyes as you did everything to avoid his gaze. Your body language wasn’t helping either. Your fingers were tapping against the towel and the heel of your foot was moving back and forth.

Maybe this trip wasn’t totally for nothing.

7. All That Was A Secret

Spring break. It was one of those weeks that Saiki went to go visit his grandparents all the way in the middle fo nowhere. So, for the most of this break, you were home alone. 

It was kind of boring. This break was definitely not one that you looked forward to, more now then before, especially after the beach during the class trip. Those words always ended up repeating in your mind, way too much then you thought they would. Then again, you shouldn’t be surprised. All those days that you’d try to subtly touch him, tease him, it was just a way to relieve yourself of the pent up emotions you’ve had for him for a few years now. 

Currently, you were in your room upon your bed, hugging one of your pillows close to your chest. You never tried to dwell on if Saiki felt the same or not, but recently, it’s been clawing at you more and more. It wasn’t like you didn’t think you had a chance, but more if Saiki was more comfortable just staying friends. You would understand, even if it would hurt, you’d do it for him. You’d do anything for that guy. 

You sighed before slowly lifting your body off the bed. Today wasn’t a good day for being sad, it was summer break, after all. You knew you had to get your mind off Saiki, and him being away made it a bit easier. So, you grabbed some clothes from your closet and laid them on the bed. You weren’t sure what you were going to do, but you were determined to fine something to take your mind off him. 

You let your pants drop to the ground before taking the ones on your bed and letting your legs slip through each of the pant legs. Next, you stripped your shirt off and took in a deep breath. You paused for a moment before dropping the dirty shirt on the ground and grabbing the new one. In all honestly, you never really pay attention to your surroundings when changing. But, does anyone? It wasn’t until your head went through the hole on the top of the shirt did you realize that the bed in front of you was now missing and the wall you were staring at was not the wall of your bed room. When you turned your head, you locked eyes with Saiki in an unfamiliar room. 

“Huh?” You uttered under your breath before your eyes widened, your face felling hotter than usual before frantically pulling your shirt all the way down. Once down, you opened your mouth and said, “You can’t do that without me knowing! What if I was in the middle of a shower or something and not just changing?”

“I would have given you some of my clothes.” He replied nonchalantly.

You bit the inside of your cheek before crossing your arms over your chest. “Why did you teleport me anyway?”

“I can’t stand it here.” Saiki confessed. Of course, you knew he didn’t exactly enjoying visiting his grandparents but he has never done this before. “Just hang out with me. I’ll send you back after.”

You sighed. You can’t exactly say no after that, so, with that Saiki and you began to watch a movie. It wasn’t one you two watched before so it was easy to get lost in it. Though, it was also easy to focus on Saiki when he suddenly placed his hand on top of yours as you guys watched. You weren’t too sure if he thought you wouldn’t notice, but there was no way you were going to pull away. After all, it’s not like he placed his fingers between yours, if he did that, you don’t know if you could handle it. 

After a half an hour into the movie you finally got the plot of it, and you weren’t amused at all. It was a best friends to lovers troupe. More specifically, childhood friends that drifted apart only to be brought back together by work and now slowly are developing feelings for one another. Let’s just say now, you were a little more than nervous. 

Thank god Saiki couldn’t read your mind, because now, you feel like you’d give him a headache. You couldn’t help but ask yourself if he knows and is only doing this to taunt you, or maybe this was all just a big coincident. Yeah, one massive coincident. In reality though, Saiki was just teasing you. He had no idea of your feelings but he wanted to watch the movie with you to implant the idea in his mind of the possibility.

Well, his plan was working. Maybe a little too much. Though, as you were about to spit something out, your eyes suddenly shot down to the floor in embarrassment. Yep, a make out scene. Of course, Saiki had no idea about that, but it was better than just the sappy stuff cause now it was really ingrained in your head. 

Once it was over and you had somewhat of your cool back you couldn’t help it. You needed to ask. If it blew up in flames, then so be it. 

“Hey, Saiki,” you uttered out lowly. Saiki caught it immediately and turned his gaze on you. “I have a.. question.”

“What?” He asked.

“Well,” your voice trailed off as you moved your eyes down to where both of your hands connected. “We’ve been best friends for a long time now but, have you ever, um, thought about doing...that?

Saiki remained quiet for a moment, his thoughts going everywhere before thinking to himself, ‘All the time, actually.’

As much as he wish he could have said that telepathically, he could never try to say that vocally. So, he just opted for a nod and watched your body flinch. The hand he touched growing warm.

“You’re hot.” Saiki suddenly spit out. This time, you brought your hand back to your body so he couldn’t tell anymore. 

“S-So what?” You stuttered out.

To say that Saiki didn’t like this side of you was an understatement. He’s never never seen you so flustered before, and it was really adorable to look at.

“It’s cute.” Saiki commented, his body leaning in just to see your face closer.

You turned your head to the side, eyes darting to the tv just to look away for a moment to compose yourself. You knew that there wasn’t gonna be another perfect moment like this so, you slowly reached over to place your hand on the back of Saiki’s neck. It was warm. When he noticed what you wanted as you started to lean back and gently pull him with you, he complied quickly until he gazed at you from above. Suddenly, he was jealous at the fact that Kaido got to see this view before him. 

He stared at you for a moment before watching you bite down on your bottom lip, his mind doing backflips at the want to read your mind, but also at how good you looked under him. 

“Kiss me.” You whispered under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear. 

“If I do,” Saiki uttered lowly. “I might not be able to stop.”

“That’s okay.”

[earlgreydream]

unrequited.

| draco malfoy x reader | fluff | smut | angst |

anon requested. hey can u do draco x reader when its like unrequited love?? (this request was super long so i’m only including the first line. I loved this one though, angel baby)

You’d spent an entire lifetime of loving Draco Malfoy. 

He knew it, everyone knew it. You grew up playing in the halls of Malfoy Manor with the young prince, and you’d loved him when he made flowers grow magically at his feet. You’d loved him when you’d started school together, making potions under Snape’s watchful eye. You’d loved him when you showed him the stars in astronomy, seeing them glitter in his eyes. You’d loved him, even when his father, Lucius, didn’t. You’d loved him, always. 

As far as you and everyone else knew, Draco Malfoy didn’t love you back. You were friends, and he cared about you, sure. Draco kept you at a distance, pushing you away as you showered him with constant attention. You never meant to suffocate him, you just had so much love to give.

Everyone erupted into screams around you, even the Gryffindors, as Draco caught the golden snitch, winning the quidditch game for Slytherin. The players dropped down onto the field, celebrating, and you got lost in the sea of excited students. You went down to the field to congratulate him once some of the students had cleared out. All the players were still around, as well as their significant others and friends. 

“Draco!” You called, and you saw him sigh before turning to you.

“Y/N,” he nodded, greeting you. His friends all watched the two of you interact, and Draco tried to be patient, but he was on edge.

“I wanted to congratulate you, you did a great job,” you smiled, and he nodded.

“Thanks,” he said shortly, trying to move past you, wanting to follow the others back to the locker rooms to clean up.

“Draco, are you okay?” Your brow furrowed, and he whipped around to look at you.

“Can you just fuck off? I know you’re obsessed with me, but I don’t love you. I never will! Leave me alone!” Draco snapped, bottled feelings exploding. 

Everyone went silent, staring at Draco in shock. Despite Draco’s ability to be an ass, he’d always exercised patience and kindness with you. He stood up for you, and even when he was annoyed with you, he never let his friends mock you or make rude comments. 

His response cut through you like a knife, and you stepped back. The two of you stared at each other, and everyone stared at you. Immediate regret washed over Draco, and nausea twisted his stomach.

“Understood,” you breathed before he could speak, before he could tell you that he spoke in annoyance, that the words were empty, and he didn’t mean it.

You turned, unable to look at Draco anymore. You felt like you were going to break, and you didn’t want to do it in front of an audience. You walked off the quidditch field, pain aching in your chest.

Draco stood on the field, watching you go. He swore, and turned to his teammates, uncomfortable expressions on their faces. Everyone else left, the tension dampening the excitement.

“Pansy-”

“That was fucking cruel, Draco,” Pansy shook her head at him. 

“I didn’t mean it. I don’t know why-” Draco stammered, and Theo grasped his shoulder, cutting him off. 

“Let’s get cleaned up,” Theo felt terrible for you, knowing you didn’t deserve it. 

You were headed back to the dorms when a hand wrapped around your arm, stopping you. You turned and tried to shove the person off, assuming it was Draco coming after you. 

“Get off!” 

“Okay, okay. It’s only me.”

You looked up to see George Weasley, concern in his eyes. You apologized and started to cry, wrapping your arms around your friend. George hugged you tightly, and led you from the hallway as you started to sob. You were brought into the Gryffindor common room, and you leaned against his side, curled up on a red couch. 

Your friends that had witnessed Draco’s harsh rejection sat down with you. You were suddenly surrounded by sweets and students with blankets and sweaters and muggle movies, anything to cheer you up.

“I hate that foul git!” Fred sighed, and George hugged you, letting you rest on his chest. 

“Forget him,” Hermione said, patting your leg gently. 

Draco was sick. He wanted to apologize to you, swear he didn’t mean anything he said. He was nauseated, and he cried to Theo, telling his best friend he had fucked up.

“I love her, I want to apologize... I went to apologize but she was gone,” Draco sobbed. He’d gone after you, but George had already taken you to the Gryffindor common room. He’d spent hours looking for you, but everyone who knew where you went were locked up with you where Draco didn’t have access to. 

“I know, Draco. I know you love her.”

“What was I thinking?” Draco dropped his head into his hands. 

You avoided Draco as best you could, even convincing Snape to let you switch partners in potions so you wouldn’t be forced to work with him. You’d spent time with George, even going to Hogsmeade with him. He was sweet to you, swearing that you deserved much better than the way Draco had treated you.

It had been weeks of you avoiding Draco, managing to miss him, even when he’d tried to come searching for you at your dorms-- you’d been in the twins’ room.

You were alone studying in the library when someone approached the table. You looked up to see Draco Malfoy, looking sleep deprived and emotionally worn.

“Please, don’t leave, we need to talk!” he begged as you closed your book and pushed out your chair.

“How’d you even get in here? It’s after hours and I have special permission to be here, no one else-”

“Theo,” he answered, and you didn’t dare to ask, not wanting to know how Theo managed to get Draco in the library.

“You hurt me, Draco,” you said finally, and he nodded.

“I know, and I can’t apologize enough. Y/N, I am so, so sorry. I should’ve never snapped at you. I didn’t mean anything I said, I was stressed and upset, and you didn’t deserve that. I love you, I have always loved you. I’m so sorry, please forgive me!” Draco was crying, his words coming out in desperate rambles. 

“You love me?”

“I love you more than all of the stars. I love you more than anything, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for hurting you,” Draco apologized, and you couldn’t stop yourself from crying. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He held you, breathing out repeated apologies. 

You heard heavy footsteps, and Draco’s eyes widened.

“Go, I’m not letting you get in trouble for apologizing to me,” you whispered, and he kissed you briefly, shocking you. He waved his wand and vanished, just as the librarian walked around the corner. 

“Miss Y/N, why don’t you head back to your dorm, it’s past midnight?” 

“Of course.” 

You’d forgiven Draco, and he had expected you to return to hanging around him, he expected the two of you to become exclusive. You didn’t ignore his existence anymore, but you continued hanging around the golden children and their friends, particularly George Weasley. 

He watched you giggle at George’s jokes, hanging off of his arm and flirting with him. Theo had insisted that there was no talk of the two of you actually dating, but you hung around him a lot. 

It had been almost two weeks, and Draco hadn’t been able to spend any time with you, both of you overwhelmed and busy, and your friends taking up what free time you had. You had explained that you’d forgiven Draco, but they still ostracized him and shamed him when he tried to hang around. 

Now, nearly all the students were out in Hogsmeade, and you were at George’s side, giggling at a joke he was telling. You squeezed his arm, and Draco was infuriated. Jealousy tasted like acid in his mouth, clouding his judgement and twisting his stomach. He loved you, and he couldn’t bear to see you touching and talking to others the way you were.

You were surprised when Draco approached your group, calling your name. You smiled, ignoring the harsh looks from the Weasleys. You raised your eyebrows as his arms snaked around your waist, hugging you against his body. 

“Hi, beautiful,” he spoke, and you blushed. Your friends stared at him, and Draco didn’t let you go. You could feel the jealousy and possessiveness radiating off of him in waves, and you couldn’t deny that it was attractive.

“I’ve got to show you something, I found the book you were looking for,” Draco spoke, and both of you knew there was no book.

“Sure, of course,” you nodded.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later, okay?” You nodded at George as Draco intertwined your fingers, his hold tight on your hand. They tried to protest, but Draco was already dragging you down the alley, out of sight. 

“Draco-” you breathed as you were pinned against a cold stone wall.

“I can’t stand to see you hanging off of that redhead,” Draco seethed, and you looked up into stormy grey eyes.

“No? George is sweet,”

“Enough with that. You know I can make you feel a million times better than he ever could.” His words dripped with vicious jealousy, and he was kissing your neck, leaving a mark from his mouth against your delicate skin.

“Prove it,” you taunted him.

His gripped your arm, hauling you after him down the alley. Your body was pulsing with anticipation as you were being pulled into a hostel. A maid nodded at Draco, slipping him a room key, and you nearly tripped over your feet trying to keep up. Draco swore and picked you up, draping you over his shoulder. 

You squeaked as he landed a hard slap to your ass to stop your squirming, and you let him carry you like that into the room. 

“You’ll never want another man after me. I’ll have you screaming my name until you forget your own!” Draco’s threat had you dripping, and a whimper escaped as you rubbed your thighs together.

“Can’t even contain yourself and I haven’t even touched you yet,” Draco hummed, embarrassing you in the best way.

The air was knocked out of your lungs as you were dropped on a soft mattress, Draco towering over you. You watched him silently as he removed your shoes and stockings, dragging off your skirt with it.

“I want to be rough with you. I want to make you know that you’re mine,” Draco said, and you nodded. You’d hooked up before, once a few years ago, so he was less apprehensive about railing the life out of you.

“Please, make me yours.”

Draco’s breath came out in a sharp sigh at your beg, and he rid himself of his clothes while you pulled off your own. Your eyes hadn’t left Draco, and he stood in front of you at the end of the bed. His gazes dragged over the curves of your body, and you were tempted to beg for him to touch you. 

Before you could speak, Draco hauled you back farther on the mattress and kneeled in front of you. You let your head fall back, and you moaned when you saw the mirror overhead, giving you a full view of your actions. 

“Oh my god,” you breathed, and Draco smirked as he kissed your inner thigh. 

“You’re soaked, my love,” Draco teased, lightly brushing his fingers against your core. 

You whined, pushing your hips into his touch. You jolted with a shriek as Draco slapped your sex, his dark laughter sending vibrations through you as he kissed the area. 

Your hands went to his hair, pulling roughly as he began to eat you out, the sting fading into overwhelming, passionate pleasure. As you began to squirm, he pinned your hips down, forcing you to take the pleasure he was giving you. Your chest rose and fell heavily, and you watching him eat you out, moaning as his fingers stroked you from the inside. Your sounds got louder and more high-pitched, and you were practically crying Draco’s name.

“Draco, I’m going to come, please, I’m so close!” you squealed, dragging your nails up his back, making him moan into your heat. It sent you over the edge, screaming his name as your back arched, your thighs squeezing around his head. 

You struggled to draw oxygen into your lungs when he didn’t let you go, drawing out the ecstasy until it became torture. You fulfilled his promise, his name echoing off the walls desperately. 

Draco forced a second orgasm from you, making your vision tunnel and fire spread through your body. The intensity of it was almost painful, and you were gasping and spasming from his touch. 

You whimpered in relief as the boy pulled off of you, giving you a small break from the stimulation. Your breathing was ragged, and he smiled down at the mess he’d made of you, trailing his fingertips along the curves of your body. You choked out his name, shuddering as he circled your nipples, amused by your sensitivity. 

“We’re not done yet, love, I want you fucked braindead for me,” his tone held feigned sweetness, and you nodded weakly.

“I love you.” You spoke, and some of the softness returned to his gaze.

“I love you, sweetheart.” Draco leaned down and delicately kissed your lips.

“It wouldn’t be fair not to let me get off, would it?” Draco hummed, and you shook your head. 

You spasmed as he tapped his head against your aching clit before lifting your legs over his shoulders. You threw your head back as he pressed into you, snapping his hips against yours in one thrust. A strangled scream ripped through you at the force, the rough thrusts making your mind melt and your body shake. You felt like Draco was splitting you open, but you didn’t want him to stop. 

Your hands searched aimlessly for something to grab on to, and Draco caught them, sliding his fingers in yours. He smiled down at you when you squeezed his hands, letting him take your body. He could feel his orgasm quickly approaching, and in a split decision he buried himself all the way inside of you, brushing your cervix, ripping another orgasm from you. Your broken cry echoed in his mind as he spilled inside of you, painting the sensitive muscle with his release. 

“Y/N? Are you there, love?” Draco’s voice was much more gentle, and he carefully pulled out of you and let you rest down into the sheets. Your incoherent whimpers were like music to him, and he waved his wand to clean the two of you up. 

“Draco?”

“I’m here, my love.”

He leaned down and kissed you, pulling you into his arms. You rested against his warm chest, feeling him press kisses to your head, draping his arms over you and playing with your fingers. 

“I’m all yours,” you whispered, feeling him grin into your hair.

“All mine.”

[shotorozu]

hellooo,, i saw another tiktok video(and since ur like the elite on writing this type of reqs im requesting to you aha) https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSJYsk4CY/ for shoto, kaminari and monoma (if u write for him) ty 💕

‘bae lol’

(the greenscreen heart, then kiss tiktok trend)

character(s) : todoroki shouto, kaminari denki, monoma neito (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] for monoma reader’s a part of class 1-A, they/them pronouns used, quirk’s not specific

headcanon type : fluff (x reader)

note(s) : oh, i absolutely love AND hate this trend, it’s mostly bc im single though :,) not like i can get a partner in the pandemic. anyways! i love your thinking, anon <3 also no proofread bc its like,, 2am here </3 will edit later!

»»————-　♡　————-««

todoroki shouto

he’s very aware of your tiktok antics, but out of all of the ones you’ve pulled on him, and asked him to do

he loves this one the most.

because shouto doesn’t have to get the lights scared out of him, and it doesn’t have a chance in ending terribly.

you brisk towards your room, knowing that shouto rests inside— “shou!” you call out to him, and he tilts his head up

“Y/N, tell me it’s not—”

“no, i swear!” you drop next to him on the bed, and you play the video. “this would be fun to do, right?”

he doesn’t say anything at first, but he definitely wants to do it, judging by the fact that he’s replaying the tiktok over and over again.

abruptly standing up, he tugs at your wrist “let’s do it.” he says with determination hinted in his voice

you’d think that he’d get the hang of doing tiktoks because of you but LMAO NO— the greenscreen failed you both multiple times in a span of 40 minutes.

the first take, the heart was blurry, the second take, the kiss was captured seconds before the kiss, and the third take— your phone fell 💀

plus, his movements were a little stiff the first few times, but after the third try— he definitely got the hang of it.

and,, he doesn’t understand tiktok effects, not even the slightest.

on the brighter note, he has more excuses to kiss you so,, it’s a win for him! he won’t get sick of doing any retakes :))

you knew the moment he focused on making the perfect heart, as he firmly pulled you close to kiss you

that, would be the perfect shot there. he almost forgot that there was a camera recording

shouto is seen replaying the filmed tiktok over and over again— and it might’ve looked odd to anyone else

but not to you, definitely. for you, it’s the norm to see him like that.

“do more trends where i could kiss you more.” he pecks you on the lips, before he leaves you be temporarily only to edit the tiktok, ofc

the tiktok itself blows up by a ton, gathering 2M likes, and 5M views, in a surprising amount of time, and you didn’t even notice how he placed his hand on your hip

until the comments pointed it out to him. which shouto replies with “i always do that. you just didn’t seem to notice.” it’s fine bc you do now

the comments consisted of “where can i find a guy like this 💔” “haha that’s so cool *blocks*” “okay but we sEE THOSE HANDS 👀”

nonetheless— please do more trends like that with him. don’t be afraid!

shouto rates the entire ordeal a ♾/10. can and will do it again. oh— and he saves his home and lockscreen as the final outcome from the tiktok. he did a screenshot it, and decides to keep it like that for a very long time

kaminari denki

again— this man is ALWAYS on tiktok, so he’s aware of most of the trends there. but that doesn’t make them any less scarier

but oh wow, he loves this trend. denki was just praying that you’d see it— and ask him to do it with you.

he was grateful that luck was on his side, since he was ecstatic when you skipped over to him— asking him to do a tiktok trend

“oh, what tiktok trend? wait— please tell me it doesn’t involve me breaking up with you for a week so you could listen to drivers licenses—”

“what? no— let me show you” and when you showed him the tiktok, he showed you this cheeky little smirk

“let’s do it! the sooner the better!” he says, and he seems more excited that you 💀

denki’s so enthusiastic, to the point that the first few takes are a total fail— as he makes you fall over your feet, as the result of quickly pulling you onto him for a kiss.

“denki— one of these days, you’re going to shatter my face”

“sorry, sorry!” he grins sheepishly. and it’s a miracle that he didn’t accidentally short circuit!

you guys try again, still persistent in getting at least a decent video, and this time— when he yanked you, causing you almost slip

he tightened his hold on you, a hand pressed against the small of your back and another hand dangerously close to your bank

the kiss is eager, passionate— and he holds you like you’re on the verge of death

and this flusters you because MAMDKWDK what happened to the goofiness 💀 i suppose that’s what happens when you have an eager denki kaminari.

you upload the video, thinking it would only get 5 likes at the very most— but it exceeds your expectations

though most people couldn’t get a clear view of your relationship dynamic with him, denki’s enthusiasm did attract the attention of 2.8M people

and in a good way, because the video did get 800k likes

the comments consisted of “when he caught you when you almost fell :,)” “damn he was EXCITED” “hey, have you told us where you got your boyfriend? i need the link to find someone like him NOW‼️‼️”

the bakusquad fawned over the video weirdly, but it quickly gets overplayed by denki— since that’s all he watched for a week or so 💀

monoma neito

bruh </3 as much as he loves you, you’re going to kill him with pranks one of these days.

he’s totally in on it if HE’S not the one being targeted, but most of the time,, neito’s the subject of your pranks

so he thinks it’s another silly prank, where you make him pick a number between 1-5 and ghost him for that many hours.

but when you show him the video one day, when you guys were chilling in your room— as per usual, he declined :,)

“sorry dear Y/N! but no. that’s my answer”

“but whyyy?? it’s so harmless!”

“the class is going to tease me for being a part with a silly tiktok like that.” and besides,, he’d be a hypocrite for participating in that kind of tiktok with someone from class 1-A.

in reality, he did want to do it. he wasn’t so sure on why he said no— but he does want to show that something so easy isn’t really a bother to him.

“oh- don’t be so sad about it! you know what?” he gently pulls you up, “let’s do it. i don’t care what those silly class 1-A kids will say anymore.”

“what? i thought you said you didn’t want to.”

“have you ever heard of a lie?” he clicks his tongue, but he’s glad that you’re feeling much better than you did 10 seconds ago.

when it comes to it, he’s actually really shy about it. not like a ‘i don’t want to be seen with you!’ more like ‘gosh, how many takes is this going to take? will i be able to kiss them properly?’

“what if i end up accidentally copying their quirk? neito— focus, damnit.” he thinks to himself, brushing the anxious feeling away.

he’s determined enough to stay focused— but man struggled a bit with cooperating with the heart shape.

“neito— not that heart!” “well, you said to make a heart, so i did!”

it takes a few tries for the greenscreen to cooperate, and for you guys to get in sync

and when he finally has to kiss you, he grins at you— a very obvious blush adorning his cheeks, as he smashes his lips with yours

then he remembers that he actually has to break free from you— and forces you guys apart, still trying to play it cool

“wow! i look awesome. only i could kiss you like that, right? i don’t need an answer, because i know it’s true!” he says with that proud laugh of his, but it immediately dissipates after the second replay

neito leaves you be, not only for you to upload the tiktok— but also because he needs to THINK WHAT JUST HAPPENED he’s running laps in his mind rn

you upload the tiktok, not worrying too much about it— as you wanted to let it sit for a while, before checking up on it

however— when you open your phone again, you get bombarded with multiple text messages from kendou, and the other class 1-b students.

“you and monoma went viral!” is what you can sum up about most of the messages, and you have to see for youself— wanting to know if the tiktok really did get 800k likes and 1.9M views in a short amount of time.

spoilers ‼️ — it did

the comments were mostly like “why can i smell the dynamic from a mile away 💔 i want that.” “he’s definitely annoying to everyone but you” “sHEESH the way he smirked before he kissed you 😩✋‼️‼️😔”

monoma flexes on a daily that he did that to your class— but he HATES how class 1-b wrecks havoc on him, by teasing him

in short— he does prefer this more than being scared. and! he didn’t have to verbally ask you for kisses 💀

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

bakugou thoughts pt 2001847471 :)))

- if u go to the park, and somebody is like, walking their dog n the animal barks at y’all??? bakugou is barking back. mans full on squares up, n barks at the dog until it backs off

- he rarely gets into shows/series, but when he finds one he likes, he’ll only watch the first few episodes and then make u watch the rest with him. he’ll always say sum “if i dont watch with you, then i gotta make extra time for your needy ass. ‘m prioritizing my fuckin’ time. it doesn’t mean anything, shut up.” ...... he’s lying. it does mean something. it means he wants to share the things he likes with u

- pls he’s so smart, and generally pretty aware, but sometimes he’ll just do something so duMb. like, u kno that thing that happens sometimes with hair?? like, when it sticks to ur fingers and no matter what u do, u can’t get it off?? bakugou is literally breaking his wrist a foot away from u, shaking his hand back and forth and cursing soooo loudly. u just gotta go up to him and gently remove the hair from him like “oh honey- no.”

- peanut gallery comments. lots of them. mans will sit fully dead silent, not talking for the whOle day, but the second u do something embarrassing?? like trip??? suddenly he has a LOT to say ..... smh men

- animals just always like him. its absolutely unexplainable bc he’s so loud n moves super suddenly,,, but the amount of street animals that follow him home is ridiculous. srsly. sometkmes he even has other people’s pets trying to follow him home

- respects absolutely no one n that somehow strangely makes him the most respectful u’ve ever seen??? like- he hates everyone the exact same so u won’t ever catch bakugou in an act of discrimmination

- he can’t draw at all but if u asked him to draw something, it’ll be the same skull every single time. it’s a good skull, but it’s soooo obvious he learned how to draw it from a tutorial in the midst of his emo phase

- will fully make fun of others for baby-talking around their s/o, n then just fully go home n look at you like “tired.” “hungry.” “kiss.”...... like okay baby man, maybe try putting a full sentence together before u start trying to run your mouth. hypocrite.

- probably sleeps like the dead. contrary to popular belief, i absolutely do not believe he’s up at every single noise. man’s could sleep thru an explosion, im sure of it. that being said tho, it’s probably actually hard for him to turn his brain off n fall asleep. he prob goes to bed so “early” bc he has to wind down for a good hr or two until he’s ready to actually sleep

- he’s got a vendetta against salespeople. like, if his phone rings with some bullshit about a product? if somebody, god forbid, tries to walk up to your door? fully frothing at the mouth annoyed. will chew out any employee who’s too underpaid not to listen to him

- eats like an absolute animal. no rlly, its bad. holds his spoon with a fist and digs at his meal like its the gold rush. the worst table manners you’ve ever seen rlly

- he gets sorts antsy if he sits for too long, so he’s always off doing random shit. like, u’ll look out the window n he’s just like, raking the .3 leaves from ur driveway, probably trying to guess where the wind will be so they wont blow back

- ik this with my heart and soul okay,,, bakugou has never had a conversation with u that wasnt from exactly .2 meters away. like,, if he’s comfortable, then he’s just close all the time. like he’s waving his hands around and yelling and you just have to take his face in ur hands and go “im literally right here. ily but pls tone it down for the sake of my hearing.”

- very much guard dog behavior when y’all go out. absolutely will not leave ur side for even a second, like, at a bar or during a concert. even if u go to the bathroom he’s like, leaning against the wall and waiting right outside the door

- gets absolutely bitchy about your phone blowing up while you’re hanging out. its not that he’s suspicious that ur, like, cheating on him, it’s just that he doesnt understand why u’d even leave ur phone on in the first place since he always has his turned off when ur around. if he gets annoyed enough he’ll fully take the phone out of ur hands, say sum “yeah, you don’t fuckin’ need this anymore. you’re done with this.” n toss it across the room while he kisses u senseless

- tbh his ultimate love language is 100% playfighting. v much would go heart eyes if u even seemed like u might try n wrestle him. obvi u dont win, but his favorite is how u laugh while he pins ur hands above ur head

- he sneers at other angry people. will fully, fully sit there like “jesus christ, they need to calm the hell down. annoying as shit- fuckin’ loud too.” ....... -i. who’s gonna tell him

- silent conversations with ur eyes. no rlly. if y’all are with friends and somebody says something questionable, bakugou is immeadiately turning to u, eyes hardly even shifting but u just know he’s hurling insults in his head

- he doesnt realize his own strength sometimes. like- he knows he’s strong, but if u ever open a door n ur like “woah, careful, this is heavier than it looks” bakugou is .2 steps behind u practically ripping the damn thing off it’s hinges. he’ll look at it, huffing like he doesn’f even understand the issue

- he rlly likes when u call him by his name. pet names are fine, but he srsly is super soft for the simple stuff. like when u look over at him, all excited, smile wide like “hey katsuki, u gotta see this! c’mere!”

- his road rage is severe. no rlly. bakugou drives like every day is a race n he’s one win away from going formula one. you’re pretty sure that the only reason he passed his license test is bc the instuctor was too terrified to tell him no

- bakugou probably does that thing where if you’re sitting on the counter top, watching him cook, he’ll stand between ur legs. hands on ur thighs or resting on ur hips while you tell him about your day

- can’t explain this one, but he doesnt kill spiders. he takes them outside. says sum “they eat ticks, idiot. what- you actually want a fuckin’ blood disease? Hah? ‘m not gonna kill it. motherfucker’s gotta earn his keep before dyin’ just like the rest of us.” while he v gently picks the spider up into his hand and walks it outside

- ik that his one cheat food is sugary cereal. like, he’s a health freak, but the one thing he can’t help but make a concession for is sugary cereal on the weekends

- he’ll sometimes get in this over-stimulated mood where everything pisses him off, n the only thing u can do is leave him alone. u learn this quick bc his anger doesn’t discrimminate and if u push him even after he tells u what’s up?? pls bakugou will lash tf out. at u. like, ik y’all like to write it but that whole “it’s okay- it’s just me. just look at me.” thing does not work with him,,, u literally gonna get merc’d if u try

- he’s probably a guy who’s gonna be super big on passing touches. like he drops his hand on ur head when he passes, or bumps his shoulder into urs when he laughs. no footsies tho. too sappy even for him- pls if u tried to initate that he’d crush ur toes under the table aHAHAHA

- feeds every street cat he comes across. is probably super fond of the ones with a bunch of scratches/scars on them. he’d die if u knew, but one time u caught him feeding a scratched up calico n going “bet u beat his stupid ass, right? that’s my girl. we always win, huh?”

—/—

surprise suprise,, my brain rlly never shuts the hell up about this man