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zuleyhasposts · 11 months

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Stand By Your Man (Negan/Reader)

Chapter Twelve - Who's She?

ou were in your room, writing on the new journal you brought with the points you gained. Every time you hesitated from writing your days, your thoughts or whatever you wanted to say, but this time you decided to change it.

At the beginning you looked at the blank page, unsure about what you could write. The idea of writing about Negan didn’t seem so bad, but you still felt sore about everything that happened.

When you finally let the pen touch the page, a loud bang came from your door. It was so hard and loud that it made you jump from the chair.

You could hear Negan’s voice yelling from the other side of the door. “Open this fucking door.”

You froze in the moment, wondering why he became this angry, until you remembered what you told Simon.

“So he told him.” you thought.

You waited a bit before actually opening the door, you didn’t want to look scared only because he was yelling and banging. You could see his face furious at you, making you understand that you really fucked up this time.

“What in the fucking hell are you fucking doing to not open this fucking door?” He almost screamed at you.

You pulled him inside your room by the sleeve of his leather jacket. “Do you think it’s normal to yell like that and to catch everybody’s attention?”

“I don’t fucking care about what others think.”

There were only you and him in the room now and you could feel the tension building up. You had to expect this moment to come, especially after touching one of Negan’s weak spots: respect. You both created at the beginning a friendship based on that and now you wanted to destroy it by using the same card.

You put your hands on your hips, walking around the room and looking at him in his eyes only sometimes. “What do you want?”

“I know what bullshit you told Simon this morning, I want to see if you still have your beach ball sized lady nuts and say it directly on my face.”

He was using his sarcasm to humiliate you, to put you in your place. It was a behavior you saw already, but never on you.

You laughed at him, making his expression angrier. “Did you really think I wanted to see you after what you have done to me? If you want me to repeat my same exact words from this morning, I’ll satisfy you: I’m not fucking interested in seeing you.”

He leaned closer, this time being face to face with you. “Do you think you’re gonna win this fucking game?”

You could feel his breath on your face, the same sensation a prey felt when it was about to get eaten alive by its predator. This time, again, you took your time to answer.

“No, Negan, I don’t think I’m gonna win because there’s no fucking game. I won’t play with you, I don’t want to see you again. So, have fun with yourself or your wives because I’m fucking out.”

There was only one thing for sure: Negan would have never hurt you and you both knew this. An episode like this one would have meant certain death for someone, but not for you. He could have said and done so many things, but he did none of them. Instead, he looked at you one last time before leaving you alone.

You started to pant again when the door shut down, feeling all of the adrenaline leaving your body. You fell on your knees, supporting yourself with your arms. Right now, even the idea of your head being smashed with Lucille was less terrifying of Negan’s silence. You didn’t know what to expect from now, but you couldn’t deny you were scared. Tears found their ways again on your face.

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Negan didn’t care if everybody was staring at him in the corridor. It wasn’t surprising that they had a concerned look on their face, his yelling echoed in these walls. His mind couldn’t stop replaying the discussion you both had moments ago, he couldn’t stop thinking about the pain he caused you right now. As to make things even worse, the memories of all the discussions he had with Lucille started to appear in his eyes. He felt he was about to blow up at any moment.

He slammed the door when he came back to his room, Simon still sitting on the couch, as if he was waiting for him. When he looked up to him, he stood up because he understood that staying was the worst decision he could take.

“What did she say?” He asked before leaving Negan.

“She said that she doesn’t want to see me again.”

Simon sighed, not expecting the situation to escalate this bad. “I’ll let you know every time if something happens to her, until the situation doesn’t get fixed.”

He patted his shoulder before leaving Negan alone in his room too. His hands were in his hair, looking how everything was slipping from his grip. He looked at Lucille, wondering if that was her punishment for all the suffering he put her into. After so long, Negan felt lost once again.

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You really tried your best to not let your mental health be so much influenced by what happened, but you couldn’t. The strength you had before all of this - before the Apocalypse - was disappearing from your tired body. You were falling into the same dark spiral you had to fight when you started to lose everything. You thought it was a matter of time before you became all alone and on your own again.

You started to isolate yourself to the point that you wanted to eat in your room, being in complete silence with your thoughts. No matter how much Simon tried to hype you up or make you talk about it, he failed every single time.

Every job you made, every guard turning you made, every reunion you did, was done with your expression lost in the void. You avoided every eye contact, every word, everything from everyone. Someone that couldn’t stop bothering you was the creepy guy named Edward. It got to an extreme point where you literally shouted him to fuck off. He kind of did, even if he still tried to be closer to you.

You did a great job by ignoring Negan in these past few days, like he never existed before; even if the tears in your room said otherwise.

Negan’s behavior became even worse than before. Alexandria was the main victim from his anger and delusion. He spent the majority of the time, only letting Simon in and telling him how you were doing. The hatred he had for himself grew every time that Simon told him you were doing worse than the day before. But still, nothing changed from the last time.

A week passed by and if you thought you passed the worst part, you were sadly wrong. Another challenge started for you when other people decided to join the Sanctuary. The day that happened you wondered what was wrong, why everybody was being so noisy about it when it was so common for new people to come here and work for their protection.

“For sure she’s gonna catch Negan’s attention.” A woman said and the one next to her nodded.

“She’s gonna be something new.”

Everybody was freaking out because there was a new girl, and she was all around Negan for the time she and her group came here. Almost like an octopus, you thought of it as a metaphor.

When you finally caught a glimpse of her, you could see how everybody was talking about her and the way she was “a breath of fresh air”.

“Thank you Negan, you saved my life!” Her voice sounded like a squeak. He didn’t say anything, he only smiled at her and kept talking about whatever he was saying.

She was probably younger and, for sure, she was more full of vital energy than you. You decided that scene in front of you was enough to bear, so you simply left the crowd with their chatters.

After that “introduction”, you didn’t catch her often, mostly because you were in your room or working, but the few times you did she was talking about Negan with other girls. You didn’t know what she knew about you and Negan, but, from the way she looked at you every time that you both made eye contact, she wasn’t really happy. You knew she was trying to be one of Negan’s wives.

The worst part came in when you saw her and Negan chatting in one of the corridors. You were trying to reach Simon to speak with him about job stuff and that was when you saw them.

“Please, Negan, when can I see you again?” Her tone was extremely euphoric, you could feel your nerves twisting.

“Marika, babygirl, you know that I’m fucking busy these days.” His tone, his sarcastic and charismatic tone came back and you couldn’t stop clenching your fists.

While you were completely rotting in your own room, Negan was having fun like he always did. He made you fool for a second time, you thought, but this time you didn’t have the energy to react to it. You wondered only if Sherry was annoyed again this time because of her.

“I know! But I miss you so much…” You could see her hand touching his beard, like a sensual invitation. But Negan didn’t touch her, instead, he moved her hand away softly. He smiled at her, which probably made her think that she only needed to try more to gain his touch.

You needed to walk past them, knowing you couldn’t look at both of them. You thought that you overcame the anxiety he made you feel these days, but it never left you. Your heart decided to pound anyway, making your chest almost hurt.

You bit your lip before starting to walk, completely ignoring both presences. You felt on your skin their eyes, like if they were ready to devour you. You kept walking, as you heard the new girl, Marika, making a disgusted sound. You were sure now that your presence bothered her.

Negan’s eyes were still on you, watching you walk away until you disappeared from them. It was Marika that brought him back to reality because he couldn’t stop looking at you.

“Negan? Are you here?” She asked innocently, trying to hide the disgust she had about you.

“Yes?” He pretended that nothing happened, but he could see that Marika liked it because she smiled at him again.

He knew what he was doing, but it only helped to grow the hatred sensation he had for himself inside.

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When you finally reached Simon, you had to support your back against the closed door. You couldn’t catch what exactly he was doing, but you saw in his hand an unloaded gun. Your shortness of breath and your sobbing were enough to make him drop everything on the table.

He got closer to you, with a worried expression on his face. “What the hell happened?”

Between all the tears, you were able to talk. “He already has someone new, he completely forgot about me. While I was crying because of him, he was laughing all the time!”

“Hey,” Simon’s hands reached your shoulder, “try to calm down, okay? Breathe some fucking air and then you explain everything to uncle Simon.”

You nodded and let yourself calm down with each breath you took in. When it worked enough, you started to talk again.

“It is about Negan. He has another girl, even if I don’t think it’s another wife because no one mentioned it. He clearly forgot about me already, Simon. While I was crying and rotting inside my room, he was happily fucking someone else.”

For all this time, Simon never talked with you about how Negan was doing, but he also was doing pretty shitty. He was surprised like you were when you mentioned another girl around him, because he didn’t know it.

“Listen,” he said while he looked at you, “why don’t you go back to your room and get some rest, mh? I’ll try to fix this shit.”

Tiredness was all over your body, but you didn’t want to stay in your room again. “No, Simon, please, don’t. I think the only solution is me leaving the Sanctuary.”

You didn’t lie about it: for all the time you were isolating yourself, you thought often to leave this place. You always stayed alone, so it wouldn’t have been a problem to survive on your own again.

The look that Simon gave you was an angry one, “Don’t try to say this bullshit again, you’re not gonna leave the Sanctuary. Now go and rest, I need to talk to Negan.”

You sighed again and left the room with Simon. You could see him taking the corridor that led to Negan’s room and you only wondered what they could talk about.

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AO3 Link:

#ao3 #negan fanfiction #negan x reader #the walking dead ao3 #negan smith #ao3 fanfic #negan smith x reader

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acldwash · 6 months

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Fixing my posture is a journey and its probably going to be a long one since its been years of fucking it up, but i do feel like im progressing

I figured out i need to chill with the shrugs and focus more on stretches and massaging my trapezius muscles and other tight muscle groups (tho the upper trapezius hold sooooo much tension so if u have trauma or deal with a lot of stress, or sit down a lot/have poor posture then these muscles are probably tight on u)

i thought excercising would be good way for it to release but it can make it tighter, so im probably going to still work them but along with stretches and massaging consistently (or trying to) and not focus on then so heavily until i can get then less tight. Also if have trouble with your trapezius and get a lot of neck pain and have poor neck posture and poor shoulder posture, you probably also have a very tight chest, especially where it connects to your collarbone and shoulders.

I spent like over an hour using one of those massage balls and really getting deep into my trapezius muscles, and holy shit the relief. Its extremely sore but the soreness is the blood flow, the soreness is apart of it healing. Bruising means u are going to hard but soreness and redness means its getting more blood flow

I do think you can store trauma in your neck and trapezius, when i was giving myself a massage i would feel like these releases when focusing on certain spots that felt like it was left over from expirences in the past. It felt like i was finally getting some relief when putting attention to these points of extreme tension/muscle knots. Working on my posture overall is very healing, im realizing how small i kept myself, how much of my body language was hiding away and shame and fear.

Very motivating each step forward, and being kind to myself whenever i can through this.

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riverpatel · 2 years

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NOVEMBER 3RD, 2022. Bradford Springs Cemetery

notes & tw: upon learning where Trix ( @trixstone ) and Del’s ( @del-walsh ) father was buried, River decided to go have the one and only conversation they would have with the man. There are allusions to abuse and neglect and of course, death. Basically, River would like to say some things they cannot say to anyone else and release a few frustrations into the universe so they no longer feel the need to hold onto them.

While River was the type of person who could be found almost anywhere, there were certain places they did not go. Hallowed ground was avoided unless it was absolutely necessary, usually making a point to block the spirit world from their minds eye. However, there were occasions that they faced their hesitation and ventured onto consecrated earth if the need was strong enough. This was one of those times. They followed the map they were given by the groundskeeper to their destination. Once the name 'Bridges' was spotted, River folded up the paper to shove in the back pocket of their black ripped up skinny jeans. They crouched down in front of the stone and took in it's entirety with dark eyes. Lips parted to let out a slow exhale while they searched for a good place to start.

"You don't know me." River cleared their throat of the frog mimicking their voice. "My name is River and I came here because I, uh," they sighed and glanced around before focusing again. "Thank you for your contribution in the creation of your child. But, you should have done better to try and raise them. You should have done more. I fell in love with both Kai and Trix, but no one else gets to know Kai and that's your fault." Their lips shrugged and they swallowed a lump forming in their throat. It was not a name they ever spoke out loud, despite knowing it as well as their own. The pieces of that strong, resilient child that held so much of Trix's fear, wonder, and innocence was never hidden from River. There were many things about the other half of their soul that they held close and never told anyone about. Not because they didn’t want the entire world to know just how amazing the love of their life is or how incredibly powerful they are, but because it is not their story to tell. They knew each other inside and out, the ugliest and darkest thing they thought would send the other running for the hills only proved to bring them impossibly closer together.

"I want you to know that despite what you did, and did not do, your child thrived. They went on to find who they were instead of learning it from you. Trix is beautiful, successful, loving, brilliant, and talented. They surmounted to so many things and not a single one can be attributed back to you. See, you could have gone with them on that journey but instead you caused them so much pain they erased any trace of your existence and your name is nothing now." River leaned in to whisper, as if the next words were too harsh to say in a normal tone. "Your name died with you and will never be spoken again. I will help them make sure of that." They sniffed and took a centered breath. "What really fucking sucks, is I can never introduce them to my parents. I couldn't bring them back to New Orleans after we met or flew either of mine to Seattle to introduce them to the person I would be with for the rest of my life and I could have met you. We could have shook hands and you could have given me the third degree while I tried to impress you so you would find me worthy of being their life partner. I don’t understand that and it bewilders me, man. How can anyone be that shitty to something so beautiful? What could compel anyone to look at their beautiful creation and choose anything but love and adoration?" They licked their lips and their fists balled up next to them then released the tension that built with their train of thought. "You don't deserve your children. They deserved your love and praise and care and got nothing instead. Addiction is not an excuse. I am an addict and I love both of your children so, so much. I love Trix with everything I can possibly offer and I will always keep trying to give them more. I will give them everything you did not and I will make sure every disgusting thing you put them through fades into the abyss. You will never hurt them again."

River straightened to stand again and fixed their jacket around their body. "I came here to introduce myself and make you that promise. You will never exist again. This is where your legacy ends. Some nothing name on cheaply fashioned granite." Arms crossed over their chest and they shifted the weight from one leg to the other. "There will be no chance for you to redeem yourself with them in the afterlife, wherever you are within it. We have so many more lives to live together and you will never be included. You lost all your rights to them. But, thank you, for giving me the other half of my soul back. Thank you, Mr. Bridges because I now have everything and the greatest love this universe will ever witness. Now I'm going to leave you with nothing. Respectfully." River gave a slight bow and turned to walk away. No anger or tears or love left behind. They left nothing but words for the man who partially composed their entire universe.

#drabble.#ft. trix #headcanons & development.

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y2fandom · 3 years

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Love and Support — Peter B. Parker

→ Summary: Peter is exhausted, thankfully he has you by his side.

→ Genre: Stablished relationship fluff :)

→ Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, a teeny tiny bit of superhero violence

→ Word count: 1.4K

→ A/N: This has been a WIP for a while and I was really nervous about posting it but I rewatched ITSV and Peter deserves some love so

English is not my first language and this is not beta-read, please let me know if there are any mistakes

itsv masterlist l navigation l fandoms | buy me a coffee

Peter likes staying positive, but he finds that right now, with Green Goblin, it is becoming increasingly difficult to do so. He grunts when he lands on the cold hard concrete and he is tempted to stay right there for a second before he is bursting right back into the fight. Peter sighs, mulling over how usually this confrontation would have been over by now.

He says as much, “Norman, you are being a real pain in the-”

Spider-man huffs, feeling his breath momentarily leave him when the Green Monster throws something at him. He grunts, starting to get annoyed. I have a date, he laments inwardly.

Peter recalls how, just earlier today, he had been on his way to you. He was tired from a long day of patrolling the city and genuinely looking forward to seeing you. And then the Green Monstrosity attacked. Alas, when duty calls…

Peter feels a surge of energy when thinking about you and your date and, using it to his advantage he starts some elaborate web patterns he hopes will finally stop the Emerald Grouch. Stop him from what? He wonders idly but it doesn’t really matter, at this point in time he knows that nothing good ever comes from the mutated man terrorizing the city.

Spider-man tugs at his webs and watches smugly as they fully immobilize the supervillain. The weird bat-snake protests and roars but the webs don’t heed. Spider-man makes sure to reinforce the hold and, once satisfied, swiftly leaves the scene. He is certain law enforcement will arrive soon and he has more important things to do.

Like getting home. Peter complains to himself, he hates taking the long way to your apartment. He has to walk for the most part and he just wishes he could just directly swing by. He knows it’s not safe though and the thought of putting you in danger makes anxiety pool in his stomach.

Peter does his best to drown out the sounds of the city as he walks, preferring to focus his mind on what’s awaiting him. Logically, he knows he is surrounded by gray and drab New York but the thought of you makes everything look a little warmer, a little brighter. His steps gain speed. He feels like there’s a thread connecting you both, and the closer he gets to you the more the tension in his chest eases away.

He keeps on thinking of you as he walks. His beautiful girlfriend. The thought makes him smile involuntarily. Y/N.

You are always so understanding, regarding everything, but especially when it comes to his hero duties. Not only do you understand, you encourage him to be a hero and welcome him back with open arms every time.

Your apartment comes into view and he feels his smile grow on his face. Darkness has descended over New York but your apartment window acts as a beacon to him, attracting him to the warmth that spills from that tiny square in an otherwise drab building. Peter regains his earlier speed, dying to get to the one spot in the whole world that promises light and warmth to him.

The doorman doesn’t even bother stopping him, already recognizing Peter from his several visits. He silently thanks him and immediately starts taking the stairs several steps at a time.

Peter huffs once he gets to your floor but refuses to slow down, sprinting to your door. He slides his hand into his coat, fully expecting to come in contact with a pair of keys. Instead, he grasps at air and a small ball of lint.

Peter frowns, and his brain helpfully supplies him the sequence of his hectic morning, rushing to what turned out to be a false alarm. He swallows down a groan but knocks, ignoring the warmth crawling up his neck.

“Coming!” Your voice pours over him like a balm, immediately having a soothing effect on his whole body. Peter feels every single one of his muscles unwind and despite not having set one foot inside he feels at home.

The door opens and there you are and every semblance of thought has disappeared from his central nervous system. All of it. He is suddenly back to the first time he saw you.

It takes him an embarrassing amount of time to form a word. He breathes out a small “hey” that he hopes doesn’t sound as breathless as he feels.

You duck your head a little but he can see the smile on your face.

Your eyes flutter back to him a second later and you giggle out a “hey” that makes a million butterflies flutter in his stomach.

“Come in, Pete.” you step aside to let him pass through the door.

No sooner has the door clicked behind him, Peter is wrapping his arms around you. A small squeak leaves you but after a second of processing, you melt into the embrace, humming softly.

“I love you,” you mutter, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“You missed,” he mumbles, and before you can say anything he captures your lips in a kiss.

You giggle and the sound makes him melt once more.

“I love you too,” Peter says as he tightens the hug ever so slightly before relaxing again. There's no hesitation in his voice.

“Aren’t you tired, Pete? Don’t you wanna go to the couch?” you suggest after a moment has passed and you are still standing, still in his arms.

Peter pretends to complain but he swiftly complies with your request. Without any sign of struggle, he lifts you up and starts walking to the couch. You let out an amused guffaw and Peter quirks an eyebrow at you.

“You are not even pretending to struggle,” you point out once you notice his questioning gaze, “Do I even weigh anything to you?”

Peter shrugs and you laugh. “It's like carrying a teddy bear.”

“I’m way scarier than a teddy bear.”

Peter snorts. He closes his eyes and lets himself fall backwards onto the couch, a small huff instinctively escapes him and he hopes it gives off the semblance of struggle you wish to see from him.

His spider-sense tingles after a second and he smirks knowingly. “You are staring.”

“I’m not…” you mutter petulantly and by what he can feel you are not lying, you’ve looked away. He chuckles.

Instinctively you place your hands on his hair and start playing with it. “How was the fight?”

Peter opens one of his eyes and promptly closes it again. “Didn’t catch the news?” There’s a light teasing tone to his voice he hopes makes you smile.

He knows he has succeeded because there’s a smile on your voice when you say: “I prefer the first-hand account,”

He chuckles at that.

“Plus,” you add, “you seem tired and I worry.”

Peter opens his eyes, you stare back at him with pure sincerity in your eyes. He pokes your side. “You do?” He teases.

“Just a little.” You answer, trying and failing to keep a straight face.

No longer able to stall on the topic he bites back a sigh and offers you a wry smile. “It was the usual,” he makes a vague hand movement you can’t see, “Green goblin creating chaos around the city.”

“Gettin’ old,” you mutter.

Peter doesn’t contradict you. He doesn’t voice it, but he is tired. Tired of things never improving, of evil and crime prevailing despite Spider-Man fighting it for decades. “Heroes don’t retire,” he says after a while, there’s no bitterness in his tone, just facts.

“They don’t, but that doesn’t mean that they aren’t allowed to feel tired.” You say, giving his cheek a kiss.

Peter smiles under your lips.

Your hands grab the sides of his face, gently making him look at you. “You are not a bad hero, Pete.”

Eyes wide open and stinging with unshed emotion, Peter Parker finds himself speechless. He opens his mouth to say something, tell you how much what you said means to him but nothing comes out.

“I love you.” he laughs through the declaration, his voice thick with emotion and it trembles a little despite himself.

“I love you too, my hero.”

The term makes Peter’s heart skip a beat and he wonders if, in your proximity, you are able to feel it.

You continue placing small kisses all over his face, whispering reassurances in between each peck. He melts underneath the attention, drawing you closer.

Peter sighs, “You are the best.”

You beam at him, making everything around him warm up. “I know.”

And, finally, your lips connect to his. The kiss makes all the warmth explode in his chest and he is glowing with you. Peter finds that he doesn’t mind taking down a few villains now and then if he gets to come home to you.

#peter b parker x reader #spiderman into the spiderverse x reader #into the spiderverse x reader #x reader #peter parker x reader #peter b parker headcanon #itsv reader insert

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sinfulcries · 3 years

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hi sir! i really enjoy your works so could i request atsumu's senpai catching him jacking off while moaning reader's name in the locker room and reader takes his virginity on the spot?

maneater — atsumu x male reader

author's notes. UHM I AM SO SORRY THIS IS REALLY LONG I GOT REALLY INTO IT HAHAHA. this was also beta read by my lodicakes @bunbyy <3 thank you so much NJKNDKJA

tw. senpai kink, public sex, exhibitionism, mating press, caught masturbation, university au, virginity loss, peer pressure, belly bulge, size difference, unprotected sex, barebacking, facefucking, facial, sleazy senpai reader

Miya Atsumu, by all means, was never interested in dating or the concept of love and crushes and infatuation. All of those seemed vaguely unfamiliar to the boy who only had volleyball on his victory-hungry mind. When it came to a certain male on his team however, he would instantly lose his composure. His knees would feel like jelly whenever their fingers would brush against each others accidentally and his face would heat up like wildfire when the flirty, tall senior would attempt to flirt with him.

A crush, Miya supposed. These feelings would go away sooner or later but Osamu and his teammates who clearly caught onto Atsumu’s strange behavior, begged to differ.

More often than intended, you two would have the thickest and most uncomfortable sexual tension. And one of those instances was right now.

After one of your practice matches, you had peeled your shirt off to reveal your seemingly perfect body. Atsumu revelled in the way your skin glistened under the sheer layer of sweat coating your big arms and your toned abdomen, or the way the fabric of your shorts hung low and exposed more than what meets the eye, leaving Atsumu to imagine the rest of what laid beneath. The blonde made sure to take his sweet time memorizing every crevice of your toned stomach, failing to notice the teasing smirk plastered on your face.

Interrupting the male’s not so discreet sightseeing, you chuckled. “Enjoying the view, Tsumu?” You teased, making the said male blush embarrassedly. “N-No! Shut yer trap, Senpai!” He sneered only to receive a grin from you in reply. “You know, You’re really cute when you’re flustered, dollface.”

God, the things you did to him were dangerous and the cute pet name went straight to his cock, making it noticeably twitch against his thigh. The shorter man merely ignored your statement with a blush on his face, giving you an embarrassed wave before walking towards the locker room, “I'm gonna take a shower.”

By showering, Atsumu meant releasing his sexual frustration by jacking off to the thought of you fucking him. The wing spiker shut his eyes in pleasure as he flicked his wrist around his length shamelessly, lips parted ever so slightly as he moaned your name.

The thought of you manhandling him, having him pressed up against your chest as you fucked him raw made Atsumu shut his eyes tightly. His pace only increased as he fisted his cock much faster, imagining that it was your bigger hand instead. This was definitely more than a crush-- Miya just came to the thought of his teammate for fuck’s sake! Thank God you weren’t there to witness the sinful and humiliating act that he had just committed.

By the time he came, shooting thick ribbons of white cum onto the tile walls, he rinsed the rest of his body clean before reaching out of the stall to grab his towel. Before he could even grasp the cloth, another person snatched it before he could, making him groan frustratedly.

“‘Samu, I swear if this is you, I’ll cut yer ba—”

When Atsumu opened the shower curtain however, the culprit was not his twin brother but instead, you stood in front of him with an amused look on your face. Your teasing expression only making the shorter man gulp nervously.

Avoiding your coy gaze, you taunted, “You’re a bad boy, Atsumu.” while moving to pin the blonde against the tile walls. Atsumu let out a soft squeak, feeling your calloused fingertips rubbing teasingly against the rim of his ass.

“Touching yourself to the thought of me.” You growled, leaning in to lap at the expanse of his neck, your teeth slowly dragging against his skin leaving bite marks on the clean flesh.

The blonde let out a breathy moan, as he tried to explain himself, however his mind was clouded with nothing but lust and disbelief. “I’ll give you the real thing instead. How does that sound?” You whispered, making the blonde shake his head. “I-I don’t want to..”

As much as he desperately wanted to feel your cock messing up his insides, he was embarrassingly enough, a virgin. And to have his virginity taken in some dirty locker room had him thinking more rationally, holding himself back from succumbing into his desires.

“Why not? Are you a virgin?” You teased, making Atsumu pipe up with humiliation. “Am not!” He protested.

Not believing the blonde, your hand inched towards his ass, prodding at his entrance with one finger. The male immediately jolted forward into your chest, squeaking as you pushed the digit in. “F-feels weird…” Atsumu murmured.

Ah, a virgin. How adorable.

The best people to fuck, in your not so humble opinion, were virgins. They were quite similar to new toys— they’d have your cock inside of their cunts, getting a good feel of how big you are before they’re reduced to a sobbing mess, feeling your cock molding them into your shape.

“C’mon now, ‘Tsumu, don’t be such a buzzkill for yer senpai.” You mused, giving his ass a harsh slap. “I’ll take good care of you. I’ll be gentle.” Your words weren’t the most convincing especially paired with the predatory gaze in your eyes. Nonetheless, Atsumu complied hesitantly, deciding to trust you instead, “Ugh fine. Ya better be gentle or I’m backing out.”

‘You’d be too addicted to even think about backing out’ You thought to yourself, grinning as you pulled the blonde out of the shower, urging him to lay down on one of the benches before pulling your shorts off along with your boxers.

By no means were you remotely close to small. Atsumu shamelessly drooling at the sight of your thick cock leaking beads of precum in your hand. Miya could only gulp as you pressed the smooth head of your cock against his bottom lip, letting the fat head part his lips open. “W-Wait you won’t go too deep right?” Atsumu mumbled worriedly.

“Just trust me.” You responded, guiding the rest of your cock inside of his mouth slowly. And without a single warning, you grabbed the boy by the back of his head, pulling him in closer as he choked helplessly on your cock. “You can take it right Tsum? Senpai knows you can.” The condescending grin that wormed its way onto your lips made Atsumu moan against your cock, your hips now moving to fuck the wing spiker’s warm throat.

You could vaguely hear the sound of him choking and gurgling around your thick length, the younger man’s jaw now going slack with how long you’ve been mercilessly thrusting into his mouth. “Shh, Samu might walk in at any minute. How would he react to seeing his cute lil twin getting facefucked by his sleazy senior?” You whispered tauntingly, Miya only “mmf!”-ing in reply.

With your thrusts slowly becoming sloppy as you felt your high approaching, you took your cock of the blonde’s mouth before spilling your load on his pretty face, relishing in the way your cum dripped over the boy’s cute features. “S-Senpai…” The boy panted, shakily taking your cock in his small hand “Want more…”

Your prediction was proven to be correct. Miya Atsumu was already addicted to your cock and you haven’t even taken his virginity yet! What a charming lil whore, so easy for you to break and corrupt!

Smiling at the blonde, your fingers were now pushed against the puffy rim of his ass, the dampness from his recent shower making it much easier to prep his hole for your cock. Atsumu let out a soft gasp as you started to curl and twist your fingers inside of him, his body writhing cutely against the bench he was laying on. “Mm so tight, I can’t wait to fill this cute cunt up.”

Miya blushed at your words, the venom in your voice making him flush red with how needy he was for you. Jolting upwards, he could feel your fingers brushing against his prostate, a flurry of high pitched moans ripping past his throat as you continued to fingerfuck the poor boy. “Ssssso good~!” Squealing girlishly, Atsumu’s cock trembled before he came on his stomach.

“Fuck, you look so hot” You rasped out, admiring the way his chest heaved up and down, his oversensitive cock now twitching against his stomach. As much as you wanted to spend your time admiring the view, your patience was wearing thin, and you could barely keep yourself from climbing on top of his quivering figure, aligning the head of your cock against his puckered rim before pushing every inch inside of him. The pain was absolutely unbearable-- the thought of pushing you off of him was the only thing occupying his mind as he blinked back the fat tears forming in his eyes.

As expected, his ass felt so good wrapped around your cock. Nothing beats the feel of a freshly entered, young virgin, especially since he looked so pretty folded down on the bench with your cock filling his ass.

“It hurts! Too big--!” Atsumu whimpered, finally letting the tears he had been holding back stream down his pretty little face. You only grasped both of his legs in response, folding him with ease so that his ass was raised to take in more of your cock. With you, balls deep inside of him-- It was safe to say that Atsumu was slowly breaking. It was obvious with how his tongue was stuck out, eyes crossed lewdly as the tears, cum and drool on his face mixed messily together. The satisfaction of burying every inch of your cock inside of his ass only brought a wicked smile on to your face and it didn’t take long for you to start fucking him and breeding him against the dirty bench, each euphoric thrust sending atsumu overdrive as he breathlessly panted for more. His whimpers sent you into a frenzy, your hips pistolling deeper to abuse his prostate-- and the blonde could only scream for dear life as you pounded into his guts mercilessly.

Rich, deep moans spilled from your lips only aiding Atsumu into orgasming much faster. And Your brash, rapid thrusts made ‘Tsumu moan out in pure bliss, keeping himself balanced as he held onto your sturdy arms. “Such a fucking cockslut for a virgin.” You groaned, Driving your cock deeper inside of him so that you could marvel at the little bump bulging out of his toned stomach.

“Look at that, you can even see my cock in yer little tummy.” Teasing him never got old, especially with the cute whine that came out of his mouth. “If only the team was able to see just how much of a virgin whore you really are.”

That alone was enough to make Atsumu cum once more, and with one more drive of your hips against his colon, you watched as his body spasmed against your cock, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he cried out your name.

Although you did have a bad habit of tossing virgins away once you were done using them up, you were certain that you’d keep Miya Atsumu for a while. After all, he was quite fun to play with.

#sinfulcries works #top male reader #dark content #haikyuu x male reader #seme male reader #dark blog #dark haikyuu #hq smut #haikyuu smut #atsumu x male reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x male reader #atsumu smut #hqintheclub

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bibblelevi · 2 years

Note

i’ve had your sub angel!levi in my head since your first drabble i just ugh—

making him cum from just wing stimulation alone, or like dripping black candle wax onto them just UGH YES fuck this concept has me in a choke hold

Subby angel Levi is my new niche obsession. I am so in love with the concept and want to write everything under the sun about him.

Guardian Angel! Levi Ackerman x F! Reader

Warnings for Submissive Levi, bondage, gag, blindfold, wax play, nipple clamps, pain play, cock bondage, orgasm delay, ruined orgasm, wing play, overstimulation, crying

Levi looks gorgeous like this, but you think he’s wired to be beautiful.

Black ropes wound around his ankles and thighs pin them together, the plump skin squishing out from the tension of the knots. His arms are comfortably bound behind him, horizontal, and the rest of him is on perfect display. A cloth secured over his eyes blinds him from your antics, a matching one woven through his teeth, ensuring his silence.

So far, he’s been obedient. You know he likes to make you proud. You know he likes to hear how good he is despite the blank expressions and steely glances.

You have his cock in your hands, but you’re not stroking him. You have to physically repress the urge, especially with how hard he is, and how much he’s leaking already. Besides, you’re busy. Rope is wrapped around his base, then around his balls, squeezing them until they’re round and dark. You pass it around his shaft, using up the rest of length before knotting a bow. He moans when you finish, shifting on the bed, daring to close his thighs together for some stimulation.

“You naughty boy,” you chide him, a smile in your voice.

For now, you let him chase the beginning licks of arousal. He’s riling himself up, doing a wonderful job, and you’re waiting for the moment he realizes he won’t find his release so soon. He’ll realize he’s utterly helpless, at your mercy, that you’re the only person in the world capable of making him feel good. Has he ever been fully reliant on another person? Or has he always had to take the lead, in everything? Maybe that’s why he looks at you with such indifference, because he’s never known anything else.

You run your hands over his thighs, relishing in the buttery texture of the rope and the softness of his skin. He huffs harshly through his nose, shaking beneath your skilled hands.

“It’s okay,” you murmur. You reach up and rub your thumb over his cheek, and he eases back into the mattress, tension melted away by a few strokes. “There we go. Just relax, angel.”

You wait until he’s breathing regularly, until he’s still and waiting patiently for more. “Good boy,” you offer praise, and he exhales once again. “You look fucking beautiful right now, Levi. So, so beautiful.”

Your hands stroke up and down the soft muscles of his belly, up to his chest, firm yet still malleable. His nipples pebble from all the attention, standing taut, and you reach for the next thing.

“You’re going to feel a pinch, okay?” you warn him. “Remember what we discussed?”

He nods, holding his breath. When the teeth of the first clamp encloses around his nipple, his chest sinks in. You repeat on the other side, tightening the clamps, before lifting the connecting chain with one finger. The metal appears menacing on the body of someone you’ve always seen as pure and innocent. His cock bobs, spilling more precum on his pelvis. You smirk.

“I’m going to take them off in a bit,” you say. “It looks like you like them. You’re dripping from the pain.”

His wings are spread beneath him, massive and fluffy and delicate-looking. You stroke with your fingertips at the spot diagonal form his shoulder, tracing the grooves, scratching gently. Levi pants and twists in his restraints, his hips lifting from bed. You stroke with more fervor, until the first muffled whine sounds, then you switch sides, experimenting until you’re certain you’ve rediscovered the spots.

“You could cum like this, couldn’t you? From me touching your wings?” You apply more pressure, his legs snapping closed once again, no doubt trying to find more stimulation elsewhere. The ropes around his cock are a maddening, consistent tease on top of your wandering fingers. “You’re going to have to cum this way, because I couldn’t be bothered to take that rope off your cock. It looks too pretty trussed up like that.”

He moans quietly into the gag, his cheeks red. You give his balls a proper squeeze and watch his abdominals contract.

You let him adjust for a moment, assembling the rest of your tools. You grab the skinny black candle and light the wick, watching and waiting for the wax to begin melting. Once the first bead begins to roll down, you hold the candle over his chest.

The first drop lands near his nipple, and Levi jolts, pulling at his restraints. At first it’s white-hot, but then it’s cold-like (how can something be both?). The skin tightens underneath the drop, warmth spreading through, followed by a dull sting. He breathes hard and whimpers into the gag.

“Okay?” you ask, petting his hair.

He nods.

You smile, “Good boy,” then turn the candle, more droplets of black wax splashing his pale skin. He squirms and whimpers, the hardening wax cracking and crumbling with any abrasive movement. You cover his stomach and navel, sparing a few droplets over his thighs. You decide to spare his cock. It’s already suffering enough, hard as a rock, untouched. His balls are tinted purple, his tip pink and leaking arousal.

“You have my permission to cum,” you say, relighting the candle. You hold it over his wing, over that special spot he loves to be touched. “But only like this—“

And then, the wax falls onto his wing, clinging to him. He shudders, full-on whining, his head thrown to the side. His bound legs come together, thighs rubbing his swollen balls. You dig your palm into his pelvis to hold him still and watch the chain connecting the clamps sway.

More wax clumps together on his wings, and tears escape the blindfold, soaking his cheeks. Around the gag, his lips are puffy and bright pink, and he’s shaking all over, unabashedly thrusting having never known such stimulation.

He finally begins to plead a little into the gag, shy at first, not used to having to beg.

“What was that? I don’t quite understand what you said. You want more—?” You continue on the other side, and he arches, the notch in his throat bobbing.

Then, white sputters from his cock head, leaking over and staining the black ropes, painting his cock and tummy. He’s still half hard, still struggling in his restraints.

“Oh, baby, that was adorable. Did you really just cum?” You blow out the candle and wait for it to cool before setting it down, your fingers gathering his release. “Just a little?”

He mewls, pushing his cock towards you, and finally, you relent, taking him into your palm. He keens from the overstimulation, but braves through it nonetheless.

“Good boy. You’re gonna come again for me, okay?”

He nods, taking it.

#levi ackerman smut #levi smut #levi ackerman x reader smut #aot smut #snk smut #aot x reader smut

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love-toxin · 3 years

Text

plagas; leon.

a/n: in the midst of some writer’s block i stumbled upon an old concept i never finished. enjoy some good ol’ plaga leon <3

warnings: parasitic possession, yandere leon, female reader, violence, blood, groping, leon’s teasing is just straight up bullying, pet names, almost noncon, slight boot kink, chasing.

word count: 1.9k

“Leon..?”

The sun had set on your terrifying journey, and cast a shadow over the room you'd found yourself trapped inside. Not by locks this time, or villagers, or Saddler himself...but by the person you had trusted throughout this entire nightmare. The man that had saved your life stood between you and your only way out, and even then, you doubted that you'd be able to escape if you managed to slip past him. The road home was so long and the stifling, smothering Spanish heat had made way for a chilling cold that breezed through your body in the night and froze you to your spot.

And Leon was gone. His mind and body had succumbed to the disease he'd been injected with, the parasite that he'd protected you from...but instead of saving you, now all you felt was panic, fear, and dread when you looked into his eyes.

“You can’t suck the poison out of this wound, sweetheart...but I won’t stop you if you wanna give it a try.”

Leon took slow steps around you, his footsteps echoing in the marble hall of the castle as he eyed you up like you were his prey, while his fingers spasmed and twitched at his sides, like they were itching to either grab you or wrap themselves tightly around your throat. So much had happened since he'd rescued you from the farmhouse, and reassured you with infectious confidence that everything would be okay. It felt like a lifetime that you'd known him, even if in reality you'd only spent less than a day together--but running and hiding and waiting for Leon to dispatch any threats made the hours seem so long and torturous. You prayed for his safety at every turn, and felt terror grip your heart as you waited for him to come back and retrieve you from hiding…

And now you were here.

"Saddler wants me to kill you, you're not worth the hassle to him. But to me...you're my treasure. Mine."

The way that word rolled off his tongue sounded like an echo in your brain. He said it once before, and it stuck with you awhile--but hearing him say it now was like having it permanently seared into your head.

It wasn’t a secret anymore. You’d fallen in love with Leon, as so many had before. You fell for his confidence, his strength, his effortless teasing and sincere concern for your safety, and maybe it was all just backed by your appreciation for him saving your life and playing the hero so well. But even if it was temporary, you were in love and you wanted him to survive just as much as he wanted to save you, and even if he succeeded and brought you home just for you to never see each other again, there would always be a part of you that loved him, and you had accepted that fact.

But things had changed. Seeing Leon no longer filled you with relief and happiness, that smug grin on his lips as he greeted you after fighting off monsters you could only imagine in nightmares. He took a step towards you, and this time you took a huge one back--and he chuckled, his tone dark and biting, before continuing on and piercing through you with blood-coloured irises.

"I found you, I get to keep you. Finders keepers, huh sweetheart? That's fair, isn't it?"

His gaze held nothing less than a deep, ravenous hunger within him, the unsettling smirk on his face in no way easing that tension that weighed heavily on your mind.

“Maybe I’m just a monster, now...if I am, then so be it. If being a monster means seeing that look on your face forever, then I gotta say, it feels pretty damn good!”

"Y-You're not Leon!"

His shoulders suddenly tensed like he was about to lunge for you, but letting him have the upper hand would mean the end for you. You knew that fact so well that you acted on instinct, and unsheathed the knife whose handle you'd been stealthily gripping this whole time, to stab it into the eye of the man you wished you could have a life with. And you missed, the realization both relieving and terrifying, as the blade clanged and stuck into the wall behind him and barely clipped a few strands of his light-coloured hair.

"Is this my knife? Now that's pretty cute,"

A shudder violently wracked your body as Leon's tongue slipped past his lips, and he turned his head to lick a slow stripe up the gleaming, bloodstained blade. He'd ended plenty of lives with that thing, but it seemed as though his own had yet to be one of them.

"I've played the hero long enough. I want a reward for all my hard work...I want you."

His hand crept up your waist before you could react to it, rough fingers spreading warmth through your stomach as they grazed the exposed skin of your hip. But once you tried to break away from the touch you wished you didn't crave more of, his other hand shot out to grab you by the waist and keep you pressed uncomfortably close to his body, so close that your lips were mere centimeters from his neck and breathing in gave you a good whiff of that faint scent of cologne that still lingered on his skin.

"Don't fight me, pet. I can already hear you crying for me to use you...you know, you're so cute when you're scared."

You squirmed even still, thrashing and shoving against his chest to try and find some way to twist out of his hold--but moving him was like trying to push a brick wall, and his grip on you got tighter and tighter until you whimpered with pain. The things he was saying just didn't make any sense, and you never wanted the real Leon more than you did in this moment. Knowing what it felt like to have his strength used against you instead of to protect you...it was becoming too much to bear, and in your terror you found comfort in Leon's touch again even if it was brief, his thumbs rubbing circles into your skin and working to relax you enough that you weren't so tense.

"You're gonna forget all about that fear when I'm balls deep inside you."

What little comfort you found was gone once he whispered that into your ear. You felt your eyes widen and Leon's fingers worked their way under the waist of your shorts in a moment, the danger so imminent that your reaction ripped itself from your throat in a scream, and you returned to struggling against the unmistakable stiffness that dug into your inner thigh through his tight pants.

"Leon, stop!"

You wailed, beating your fist against his chest and even catching him in the jaw, not that you really noticed in your frenzy nor did he react save for his brow furrowing in fury. It didn't last forever though, it was easy for him to use his leverage to shove you off, your back hitting the ground hard enough to sting while he loomed over you and watched with sick glee as you trembled too hard to get up.

"You don't want me to stop. Be honest, doll."

You weren't expecting this kind of violence from him, especially not when he brought his foot down right between your legs, as was evident by the way you shrieked and tears pricked at your eyes at once. Somehow he managed to aim the heel of his boot right at your clit, and you were certain now that it was by no way an accident by the way he ground into it in slow circles, and watched with a smirk as your hips shakily followed his rhythm of their own volition.

"You want me to take everything from you, and I swear to you I will. I'll strip you of every inch of your pathetic life and make you mine."

The pressure was starting to hurt, and your arms shot out to grab his calf and try in vain to wrench him off of your sensitive areas. It seemed to just entertain him, however, and his taunts were starting to sting your broken heart even more than any physical pain he had inflicted. Even worse was watching him lick his lips as he reveled in your suffering, and one of his hands descended beneath the belt of his trousers to stroke himself under the tent that was so clearly obvious. He loved watching you in pain, and nothing but rage bubbled up in your chest from the humiliation of loving somebody so depraved, even if he wasn't really Leon anymore.

"I hate you,"

You muttered through gritted teeth, trying so hard to hold back your tears that your whole body was shaking. He let slip a soft moan as he twisted his grip on his cock, and didn't stop even as he focused those bloodred eyes on yours and growled in time with an especially rough tug.

"Liar."

Leon's grip fastened on your shoulder, but instead of pushing you back down to the filthy ground, he yanked you forwards and crushed your lips against his. Nothing but heat and the scent of blood overwhelmed your senses, your eyes fluttering closed when he started sucking on your lower lip and grazing it with his teeth. You wanted to hate the shivers that snaked up and down your spine from his kiss, but when it was from the man you still loved, it was difficult to brush those feelings aside. It wasn't impossible, however, because when he prodded past your lips with his tongue and moved in close enough for you to feel his cock twitching through his pants, panic flared up in your throat and you bit down on instinct, the coppery tang of his blood flooding your mouth at once. Leon shoved you off him much harder this time, but with the pain causing him to stagger you managed to scramble to your feet and back away a few steps to get some distance. But the fear of turning your back to him kept you frozen in place.

"You wanna be a brat, huh?"

Despite inflicting some much deserved pain, his glare barely wavered as he pulled his hand from his pants and wiped the blood that dribbled from his mouth, eyes gleaming with a lust for violence that you feared right now more than ever.

"I'll let you have a ten second head start then, sweetheart. Better hurry."

You hesitated, his offer confusing you for a moment, but once the realization dawned on you your feet moved on their own. Sore and stained with tears and blood, you tore off down the castle corridors to search for an escape, and if not, then just a place for you to hide until Leon gave up on you, which would never happen. The thought of monsters barely dwelled in your mind when the most dangerous one was Leon himself, but little did you know that it would only take a short while for you to realize how fragile you really were when he wasn't protecting you, and that escaping without him was just simply not possible.

"...Cheeky little slut. Let's just see how far you get before you come crawling back to me."

#yandere leon kennedy #yandere leon kennedy x reader #yandere leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #yandere lemon #yandere resident evil #resident evil #resident evil 4 #love-toxin #1k

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free-pool-trash · 4 years

Text

dancing with our hands tied - peter maximoff

here it is you guys... the ✨very spicy✨ sequel to delicate which can be read here <3 (had to keep the rep song title theme going here)

please for the love of god let me know how this is I’ve never written smut before so please go crazy with the asks/comments/reblogs on this one I’d really appreciate it😩😓

word count: 4k 😳 (it’s not all smut dont get too excited)

warnings: +18 content, sexy times, unprotected wrap it before you tap it, swearing, i tried to keep vulgarity on a low level but i decided to just commit towards the end lmao, insinuation to sex from the beginning , some fluff and a tiny bit of angst sprinkled in there too, wandavision spoilers

You can definitely read this as a stand alone but it’ll make more sense if you read delicate first !! enjoy <3

masterlist

The days you spent in WestView had been tiring. Wanda seemed to be losing her composure with each day that passed, you watched how she became more and more skeptical of Peter and found yourself growing all the more anxious with the situation you’d run head first into. But, you were with Peter, your mind and his mind were free of Wanda’s influence and she’d been kind enough to appoint the pair of you your own house in the neighbourhood, a few doors down from her own, so, you couldn’t complain too much.

Today was a relatively quiet day, but you had a feeling that just meant you were in the calm before the storm. Tonight was, apparently, Halloween. Despite the fact that it was nowhere near October, you were more than happy to play along with Wanda’s over the top festivities.

Peter and Tommy had just zoomed into your and Peter’s bedroom, sporting matching outfits and excited expressions as they looked at you expectantly, “Well? What’d ya think?” Peter asked, motioning between himself and Tommy. The littlest speedster awaited your answer with wide, hopeful eyes, wanting validation from his cool uncle’s even cooler ‘friend’.

Yeah, you’d made out on Wanda’s couch but you still hadn’t addressed the question of where exactly your relationship stood. It felt as though the pair of you were both actively avoiding the awkward conversation, opting instead to simply fall into bed together every single night and completely disregard the boundaries of friendship in favour of hearing each other moaning until the early hours of the morning.

With a smile you let out a low whistle, “Looking good boys. I gotta say, Tommy, I think you’re outshining your uncle right now.”

You had to laugh when Tommy smirked triumphantly at Peter, “I told you she liked me more than you.” He boasted proudly and your laughs grew louder when Peter huffed angrily. He crossed his arms over his chest and jutted his bottom lip out childishly.

“Y/n, tell him you like me more.” Peter demanded, again, childishly.

You only grinned, “No comment.” You told him airily, making your way to your closet and hesitantly pulling out the latex costume Wanda created for you off of the rail, holding it by the hanger skeptically.

It was Peter’s turn to let out a whistle when his eyes scanned the skimpy looking leotard suspended by the hanger. The fabric mimicked the design of Peter and Tommy’s outfits although it seemed Wanda had gone out of her way to make yours ever so slightly sexier. The leotard was strapless with a sweetheart neckline and a silver lightning bolt ran through the light blue material. The only saving grace was the silver tights that hung from the hanger as well, at least you’d have some kind coverage. With one last peek into the closet, your eyes landed on a pair of white, knee high gogo boots.

“Christ…” You muttered, eyebrows furrowing at the thought of wearing the ensemble out in public, if it was cold tonight Wanda would be in for an aggressive telling off. With a deep sigh you turned to the two speedsters who were both staring at you, waiting for you to say something. “I guess we’re all gonna be matching tonight.”

“Sweet!” Tommy exclaimed while Peter only smirked. Peter, with a lot of effort, moved his attention from your costume to his nephew.

“Why don’t you go hang out with your brother for a while? I gotta talk to Y/n for a sec.” Tommy welcomed the suggestion, only nodding his head before he had sped out of your house and back to his own.

A gust of wind hit your face as Peter sped himself in front of you, the man didn’t hide his intentions as he gripped your hips and pulled you flush against him. Swaying his body against yours and bringing his lips to the exposed skin of your neck. He trailed his lips up your neck, sucking and nipping, smirking when you let out small noises of approval. When his lips reached the spot behind your ear, he gave a final, harsh suck which had your breath hitching and whining when he pulled away.

To be honest, you’d love to be able to call him your boyfriend and be certain that he thought of you as his girlfriend, but at the moment you were perfectly happy with whatever the fuck the two of you had going on if it meant you could keep feeling him against you like this.

“I cannot wait to see you wearing that.” He all but groaned against your ear, his voice deep and gravelly. The butterflies in your stomach went feral at his words and you had to pull your bottom lip between your teeth to keep from letting out a moan from his tone of voice alone, not to mention the fact that his crotch was pressed up against yours, he was excited to say the least.

Your hands slid up his chest and settled on either side of Peter’s neck, you gently pulled his head out from the crook of your nape and teasingly raised an eyebrow at him, “Maybe later I’ll let you help me get out of it.”

A wicked grin spread across his lips, he squeezed your hips in response, tugging you into him even further for some kind of relief then pressed his lips to yours briefly, murmuring against them, “That’s definitely a plan I can get behind.”

Giving him one last kiss, you pried his hands from your hips and pushed him away, “Alright, get lost I need to get ready.”

“Meet me at Wanda’s?” You nodded at his question, letting out a deep sigh you hadn’t noticed you’d been holding when he finally sped out of the room.

After a second of cooling down, you pulled on the outfit and you’d be the first to admit; Wanda knew what she was doing with this one. You looked incredible, albeit a little stupid in the costume, but still incredible.

When you made your way over to Wanda’s to meet up with the others, you let out a laugh seeing as Wanda was essentially wearing the same outfit as you, only with the added extras of a cape and gloves.

“Hey! Why are you dressed the same as Uncle P and Tommy?” Billy asked you curiously, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he glanced between you and Peter for answers. The speedster in question was smirking proudly, his arm finding a spot wrapped around your shoulder.

“Because she’s totally obsessed with me.” He lied with an over dramatic sigh, causing Tommy to laugh.

You rolled your eyes, elbowing him in the ribs playfully before focusing your attention onto Wanda, “I think it’s safe to say that Wanda and I will be winning best couples costume.” Wanda gave you a knowing grin and a not at all subtle wink in response to your statement.

“Only the best for the best.” She replied, walking forward and linking her arm with yours, stealing you away from Peter who whined in protest, “Oh hush, you can have her back later.”

Telepathy definitely had its perks, one of those perks being you could tell there was more to Wanda than just being an evil puppeteer. The two of you got along extremely well, you were actually growing to see her as a friend. It helped that you knew her story, though. You sympathised with her, knowing full well that if you lost the love of your life you’d probably create a false reality to be with him too. You’d already followed him into a fake reality so you supposed it wasn’t really too much of a stretch to imagine yourself in Wanda’s position.

As the night went on, yourself, Wanda and Peter were sitting around in town square, the twins having run off somewhere. Tensions were high between the interreality siblings at the minute, Peter seemed to be having the time of his life getting on Wanda’s last nerve, poking and prodding at her lifestyle choices.

“Lay off, Pete.” You warned quietly, your stare serious as you felt Wanda becoming impatient with the mutant. Your breathing stopped for a moment and you let put a horrified gasp, your hand clapped over your mouth as you stared at the image in front of you.

Peter’s skin was grey, his eyes were milky and he was littered in what you could only assume to be bullet holes- he was dead- no, you realised as you caught Wanda’s pained expression, he was Pietro.

Wanda regained her composure after a few seconds but the sight of Peter dead was enough to shake you to your very core and you found yourself shaking where you stood.

You didn’t even have a chance to regain your composure before shit had hit the fan. It had happened in a blur, Billy and Tommy were frantic and worried about Vision being in trouble and next thing you knew Wanda was sending Peter flying with a ball of energy after he made a smartass comment about Vision not dying twice.

Quickly, you ran to Peter’s side, he was groaning in pain and looking up at you through squinted eyes, “What the hell was that all about?” He grumbled, hiding his head in your lap when you got down on your knees beside him.

With a sigh you let your body fold against his, wrapping your arms around him and letting your head rest against his shoulder, the image of him bleeding out still too fresh and real in your mind. You could berate him for his brash behaviour another time, for now though; you just needed him close.

“Come on, dumbass. Let’s get you home before you decide to cause more trouble.” You mumbled, pulling him up with you. Ignoring his whining while you led him home, your arm remained firmly around his waist the whole way despite the fact he’d recovered from the blast Wanda dealt him after only a few minutes.

When you got back to the house that Wanda had deemed yours upon your arrival, you finally allowed yourself to breathe. Peter was staring at you with a guilty expression as you released a heavy breath through your nose and shuffled into the kitchen, the heels of your boots scraping on the hardwood as you walked.

Like a lost puppy, Peter followed you. Once he reached you lent against the sink he wrapped his arms around you from behind. He knew you weren’t angry at him by the way your arms immediately moved to grip his and tug them tighter around you.

“You know, her real twin- Pietro… he died,” Peter’s face contorted in confusion when you began to speak, he listened with concern as he could already hear your voice beginning to shake, absentmindedly he caught himself tucking you closer against his chest. “For a second… you must have said something that hit a nerve but for a few seconds…” Your voice hitched and you shook your head in an attempt to knock the image out of your mind, though you had a feeling it would haunt you for as long as you lived. When Peter noticed you’d started chewing at your bottom lip, as you always did when something was causing you anxiety, he gently turned you around in his arms so that he could look at you, his arms remaining firmly around you, yours finding a place resting against his chest.

“What happened, sweetheart?” He cooed, his eyes very much alive and staring into yours.

Swallowing thickly you answered, “You looked like him. You were dead.” You told him quietly and he was sure the look of grief on your face, brought on by the thought of him dying, would haunt him for a lifetime.

Your eyes watered as you took in his face. Scanning every part of it, his brown eyes that made you melt, the dimples that could still be faintly seen even when he wasn’t smiling, the lips that took up the vast majority of your thoughts and that tiny furrow between his brows as he looked down at you with worry.

You loved him.

Of course, you’d known this for years. But you needed him to know, and even though you were already well aware the overwhelming feeling is mutual, you needed to hear him say it.

His thumb running under your eye pulled you from your thoughts, “I’m not going anywhere, baby.” He whispered softly, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb ran back and forth over your cheek bone. Your stomach flipped at the pet name and you nuzzled against his touch.

“Good. I don’t want to lose you ever again.” You confessed, looking up at him through your lashes fondly as his lips formed an almost sad smile.

Gently, he brought his lips down to meet yours, pouring his heart into the kiss, hoping it would make up for the turmoil he felt responsible for causing you. Too soon, he pulled away.

“Believe me, I’m never leaving your side. I mean come on, I’m without you for like three days and I end up being mind controlled by my sister who isn’t even my sister.” He chuckled out, a grin growing on his face as you began to smile too. He let his eyes close blissfully when you brushed your nose against his, a toothy smile on your face.

“You, Peter Maximoff, are completely hopeless.” You whispered through your smile as he opened his eyes to look at you. His own face sporting an adoring smile.

Your heart skipped a beat the second his next words passed through his smiling lips, “Without you, Y/n L/n, yes I am.” Within a second your arms were around his shoulders and your lips were moving frantically against his. Peter’s hands wasted no time in sliding down to your thighs, gripping them and propping you up onto the kitchen counter.

Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist and your hands got lost in his hair, keeping him as close as humanly possible while his lips migrated to your jaw.

An appreciative hum left your throat as he lapped at the underside of your jaw, leaving a mark before trailing his lips back to your mouth. His tongue licked at your bottom lip as he kissed you, moving it into your mouth the first chance he got. Peter moaned into your mouth when you gave his tongue a light suck.

You grinned at the sound and leaned your weight forward so you were primarily resting against his body, your arms and legs wrapped tightly around his body, your ass barely resting on the counter by that point. Welcoming your movements, Peter’s hands glided up from your thighs to grip your ass and pull you from the counter completely.

He carried you clumsily through the halls of the house, bumping into furniture and pausing to press your body against walls, his eyes closed and lips never separating from yours. You were about a foot away from the stairs when you felt your back make contact with the plaster behind you, your chest heaving when Peter abandoned your lips in favour of littering wet kisses across your chest, no doubt leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake.

You let your head fall back against the wall, enjoying the sensation of Peter nipping and licking at your skin, the man diving back to your neck as soon as he realised that your head thrown back made it entirely exposed to him. You released a breathy moan when his lips ghosted over a sensitive patch of skin, he moved his tongue frantically and you shuddered at the feeling of his hot breath hitting your bruised skin.

“Peter…” You whined when he pushed his crotch up against yours, pressing you further into the wall smirking against your neck when you called his name.

“Yes?” He asked teasingly, rutting his hips against yours once more, deliberately attempting to pull another moan from you, he obviously succeeded. His smirk broadened when you let out a huff and tugged his hair so he’d look at you.

Peter swore he was in heaven when his eyes met yours again, your face was red and your eyes were half-lidded, pupils blown wide with lust as your chest heaved. He could’ve exploded on the spot when you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth and looked at him innocently, all the while grinding your hips slowly and firmly against his. Peter clenched his jaw and let his eyes fall shut, his hands gripping your hips so tightly that you were pretty certain the area would have bruises come tomorrow. You were struggling to care about that though, focusing your energy on the man who had you pinned against the wall.

You brought your lips to Peter’s neck, repaying the favour, not detaching until you left a dark, albeit small, purple bruise on the underside of his jaw. Deciding to prolong the teasing for a little while longer you moved your lips up and let them hover by his ear and you began to let out soft little moans in response to his grinding, the action caused Peter’s movements to become more frantic and your lips to form in a smirk as you felt him hardening against you.

His breath was laboured when he murmured, “Let’s take this upstairs, yeah?” Before you could even answer he had sped the pair of you to the bedroom and you let your feet return to the floor.

As he stood in front of you, you took him in, swollen lips and Halloween hair completely tossed, not to mention the tent in his trousers that was very visible despite the layers of his costume. When your bodies collided again, it was a frenzy of hands, the both of you practically tearing the fabric off the other until you were in nothing but your underwear, kissing sloppily and stumbling towards the bed.

Peter’s lips attached to your chest again the second your back hit the mattress. He groped at your right breast while his tongue sucked on the other, swapping over before you pulled him back up to you.

The way he slotted between your legs and how his forehead rested on yours felt so perfect, you couldn’t help but grin.

“You’re gorgeous, sweetheart.” He muttered between kisses against your lips, his hands kneading your breasts as he did.

You were practically dripping by the time his hand slid down your stomach and under the band of your underwear. For someone with super speed he was moving agonisingly slow at the moment, his hand rubbing languidly over your wet core while he swallowed your moans.

“Fuck- God, Peter please.” You whined, your hips bucking into his hand, desperate for more friction than he was giving you.

The sound of your voice, so needy for him, was all he needed before he was pulling your underwear off, tossing the thin material over his shoulder haphazardly and shimmying out of his own boxers, clumsily kicking them away from his ankles, earning a giggle from you.

When he kneeled on the bed between your bent and separated knees you sat yourself up, sliding one hand up his bare chest and resting it against his shoulder while the other slid downward, only stopping once it was wrapped around his shaft. Peter sucked in a harsh breath when your began pumping him softly, the man completely losing it when your thumb swiped over his tip collecting the precum that had gathered and using it to wet the length of his dick as you continued to fuck him with your hand.

As much as Peter was loving the image and feeling of you jacking him off, he knew if you carried on he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. Still, he didn’t have the heart to pull your hand away when you were making him feel so good. His head found it’s favourite spot in the crook of your neck and he groaned out against the skin that was littered with little purple and red marks from his earlier work, which he’d be sure to admire later, “Shit, Y/n-“ He croaked through a moan, hands gripping your hips as he fought the urge he had to thrust into your hand, “M’not gonna last much longer if you keep doing that.” He groaned out, almost reluctantly, not truly wanting you to stop while simultaneously craving more.

You stopped your motions at his statement, giggling when he let out a strangled noise of disappointment at the sudden lack of pleasure. Doing the honours, you lined him up with your entrance, letting him take over when his lips connected with yours.

Peter gently pushed you back until your head was resting against your pillow and your back was flush with the mattress. His lips continued to mesh with yours as he pushed into you inch by inch until he bottomed out. The deep groan he released was music to your ears and your hands gripped his biceps when he began to thrust in and out.

A symphony of moans filled the room as Peter had managed to set a steady pace, trying his best not to let his mutation get the best of him, as much as he wanted to just go to town he was determined to make you feel as good as you made him feel and judging by the way your head was thrown back and his name fell from your lips like a prayer; he guessed he was doing an okay job.

In only a few minutes Peter had you gasping and clutching onto him like your life depended on it as he picked up speed, one of his hands reaching down between your bodies to rub your clit, his hips snapping against yours. Soon enough, you felt the pressure in your stomach release, your walls clenching around Peter’s dick as your back arched and you released around him. After only a few more staggered strokes, Peter moaned your name against your lips, finishing inside of you and thrusting lazily, riding out his high and subsequently helping you ride out yours.

You let out a blissful sigh when Peter pulled out and rolled over to lay on his back beside you, his chest heavy and his blonde hair sticking slightly against his forehead.

“That- that was awesome.” He mumbled, intertwining his fingers with yours, holding your hand by his side.

Over the last couple of nights you and Peter had, admittedly, ended up in a similar position but neither of you intended for it to happen. It’d usually start off innocently enough, with cuddling or just talking and then one of you would move in just that little bit closer and things would escalate. But there was something about this time that felt a lot more emotional than the few times before. “It was.” You agreed with an airy giggle, squeezing his hand affectionately.

A gust of air shook you from your haze. Peter had taken it upon himself to clean up the mess the pair of you had left between your legs, a pair of his boxers and one of his t-shirts now adorned your body matching him as he wore the same.

He was on his side facing you, his arms holding you against his chest securely the same way they had the night you’d shown up in WestView and urged him to kiss you. When he took you in, he kicked himself for missing out on so much of you for so long.

He was certain, one of these days he’d actually speak the three words that followed him around whenever he thought about you, but as he watched your eyes flutter closed, he decided the words would be best spoken some other time. He was well aware you already knew, just as he was well aware that you loved him, it needed to be said. Eventually, but not quite yet.

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff smut #peter maximoff imagine #wandavision x reader #wandavision spoilers #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader

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parkers-gal · 3 years

Note

Tom x reader where reader wants to move out & live with Tom only (not with boys). Tom doesn’t want to move out, maybe Nikki has a talk with him

the one T.H.

➢ a / n | went a lil overboard, heh, but enjoy this ! sorry it took a lil while :,(

➢ wc | 2.5k <3

｡☆✼★━━ requests are closed ━━★✼☆｡

There’s too many dishes in the sink, you note. There’s so many, that they won’t all fit for one load in the dishwasher. It’s a pain, and you know nobody in this house has the patience to wait for two full loads to carry through, so you have to hand wash half of them and allow the whirring machine to do the other half.

If this were a romantic comedy, you’d have Tom standing next to you and you’d hold hands under the suds while you wash the dishes together and chat about your future. This isn’t a rom-com, though. In fact, you don’t even know where the boys are right now. You were certain they went into the den to play Call Of Duty — or whatever it is that they play — but then you thought they went into the backyard with Tessa, but now you’ve just given up on figuring their whereabouts.

Not that you’re angry at Tom for not helping, though. He did the laundry with you earlier, so you’re content with his keeping end of the deal. It’s the other four that you’re a bit fed up with. Sam had just recently joined the Holland-Osterfield-Barrett household of mates, and while you’re all the more happy to welcome him in, it also means more work. There’s a chore schedule, but sometimes someone has work in a town or a country away, and the gaps in the schedule are only ever left for you to fill.

It’s tough, considering you have your own job, but you’re content with the situation — for now. You have Tom, the love of your life, and you have the best people of your life - Harry, one of your closest confidants, and Harrison, one of your partners in crime.

There’s a lot of baggage that comes with being the only woman in a household of boys that practically grew up with each other. You love Tessa with all your heart, but it’s not like you can really gossip to her about your day.

You’re not too worried about everything, anyway. The second anniversary of your relationship with Tom is coming up; it’s only a few months away, and though you’ve been pondering the idea for awhile, you’re thinking of getting a place with Tom, on your own, without the nagging and intruding fellow in-laws (to-be, hopefully).

Six weeks, today marks, for how long you’ve been thinking about the idea, debating whether it’s valid enough to bring up to Tom, deciding when the best time to talk to him would be. He’s a hard man to navigate — getting a spot in his busy schedule is like fighting to the front of a One Direction mosh-pit. That makes it practically impossible.

But, you’re Y/N. You’re his sweetheart, his darling, his weakness. You’re the most important person in his life, and when you want to have a serious conversation with him, Tom’s all ears and eyes, attentive and caring, understanding and, hopefully, supportive.

You’re hoping it won’t take much convincing — he’s lived with these people all his life, and if it’s truly hard for him to decide, you’ll know what he really wants then.

Ringing out a few glass cups, you let them dry on a dish rack that sits on the countertop. The buzzing and whirring of the dishwasher alerts you that it’s still happily running, and you walk towards the glass sliding doors that lead to the patio and backyard. Peering out, you see all four housemates and Paddy, playing with a frisbee and wrestling with Tessa and messing around with a rugby ball on the trampoline. They look like kindergarteners on the playground, and you decide then to bring them some lemonade like a mother in summertime.

“Hope you’re all a bit thirsty,” you set the tray down with a warm smile. Sam shuts his book of poetry to smile up at you from his seat. He’s been reading for a good fifteen minutes, but you reckon he’ll hop on the trampoline when Harrison gets off. For now, he watches as the Irregulars star jumps happily with Tuwaine.

“Oh, sick,” Harry runs over with the frisbee still in his hands, reaching for a glass and taking a big gulp. Tessa’s at his feet, awaiting for the frisbee game to resume, and you pet her head for a moment before Tom runs over to you, hair matted to his forehead in sweat.

“You’re the best, love,” his hand finds the small of your back as he kisses your temple. You smile again, eyes shutting in bliss at the feeling of his lips, but his hand maneuvers you so he can reach for a glass without bumping into you.

One by one, they come over for refreshments, before picking up where they left off beforehand. Tom’s last to leave, wanting to talk to you before playing with his brothers again.

“Oh, I have to talk to you later,” you whisper, fingers tracing down his damp (sweaty) shirt with a giggle. Tom raises a brow, and you nod softly, “Just, when you have time. Now have fun,” you push him off, and though he’s still just as curious, he leaves you alone on the patio. Taking one last glance at the rowdy group of boys, you bring the tray of empty cups inside, sliding the door shut and sighing to yourself. More dishes to do.

——

Tom’s drying his hair with a purple bath towel when he comes out of the steamy bathroom. He sighs contentedly, before remembering your words from earlier. He brings it up, “What was it that you needed to talk to me about?”

He walks over to the dresser while you look up from your phone. You hum as Tom puts something away, and you shut the electronic device off, setting it on your nightstand and twisting to face his direction.

“I wanted to talk to you about… us, I guess.”

You see Tom’s movement slow, and he removes the towel from his damp curls, turning around hesitantly. You smile, waving him off, “Nothing bad, I promise.”

He lets out an inaudible “phew,” and nods. “Good.” You agree with a nod of your head, and he furthers on with the questions. “What is it, though? Is it something important?”

“I mean…” Tom places his towel on the rack before walking to the opposite side of the mattress “Sorta?” You offer, and you see the gears turn in his head. He sits down across from you, on the bed, and he smiles encouragingly, still a bit suspicious.

“Well, I’m all ears, darling.”

You smile at the familiar pet name, and with a final breath in, you admit what’s been in your head for the past few months. “I was thinking maybe we could… move out… without the boys.”

It’s dead quiet for a few beats while the words sink into his mind. You’re not sure how he’s going to react, but you watch to gauge his reaction.

His mouth opens, almost as if he’s about to say something, but then he closes it, as if he’d suddenly second guessed himself. For once, you truly can’t read him.

“I thought… I thought you liked living here?” he says softly, almost a bit saddened.

You sigh with your words, “I do! Really, I do, but…”

“But…?” He bites his lip.

“Well, I mean…” you exhale again, “We’ve been together for almost two years,” he’s still listening, “Don’t you think we should be a little more independent?”

“I mean, sure, if we were a normal couple.” He laughs at the joke, and while you do too, it’s not really genuine, but more forced for the awkward tension in the air. “I just thought you… y’know, enjoyed spending time with everyone.”

You nod understandingly. “I do, Tom. Really, I do. But… y’know, we’re not getting any younger. I just thought maybe it was time for us to get a place of our own.” It comes out as more of a suggestion, a question for him to respond to. You quietly bite your lip while Tom nods at the information he’s taking in.

He looks down at his fingers, before locking eyes with you. “Can I think about it?”

You shut your eyes softly while nodding. Tom blinks, before standing from the bed, giving you a kiss on the forehead and bidding farewell, heading downstairs for more quality time with his brothers.

——

It’s been a week since that conversation took place in your room. You didn’t think it’d go so… bad? You’re not sure if you should say that, because he didn’t exactly say “no,” he just didn’t seem enthusiastic about deciding at all.

It’s a quiet Saturday. You’re out bowling with a few of your friends, news of one of them getting engaged spreading like wildfire. She’s having a dinner party later, but for now, you’re keeping the meeting small, inviting your closest circle for the fun day at the bowling lanes.

Tom asked you if you wanted to reschedule the dinner with his family, but you insisted that arriving late would be fine. It’s only four o’clock — the Holland family likes to come for late lunch and spend the night playing games and drinking beer, until the clock strikes midnight and Paddy’s passing out in the backseat on the way back home.

At least now, only one Holland brother stays with the parents.

Somehow, someway, the conversation had shifted to you. Everyone’s gathered in the living room, scattered on sofas, couches, beanbags, armchairs, loveseats. Tom misses you at his side, but the conversation of how your work is going just reminds him of what you’d proposed a few days ago.

“How’re things with her in general, though?” Nikki, Tom’s mom, asks with a smile. The eyes shift towards Tom, and he can feel his face heating up.

“Yeah, how’re things with the lovebirds?” Harry teases.

Tom chuckles, anxiety bubbling in his stomach, twisting his. “Uh- they’re- they’re good, yeah,” he assures them, though shaky.

“You sure, there?” Harrison teases. “Did someone propose or something?”

“No, no,” Tom airily chuckles. “Nothing like that.” “Oh?” His dad picks up, “What, then?”

“She- uh…” he licks his lips out of habit. “She wants to move out. Find a place for us, she said.”

The tone in which Tom tells them lets them know that he’s a little less than enthusiastic about the whole ordeal. It’s something that raises a red flag for Nikki; it’s something that makes her brows furrow in confusion.

“Oh,” Sam breaks the silent. “I’m happy for you, bro,” he pats Tom’s shoulder.

Tom smiles, though it’s forced and a bit spaced out.

“What’re you gonna tell her?” Harry asks. “You want it too, right?”

Tom shrugs weakly. Nobody talks about his responses, his reactions. It’s all a bit unexpected, for Tom to not be on board with the next step of the relationship.

“I mean, I don’t know, really.” He confesses with a nervous laugh, running a hand through his curls. “I’d miss you all so much. I just… I don’t know, I guess I just thought she liked living here too, y’know.”

A collective number of “yeah’s” and “mhm’s” go around the room, and Tom nods nonchalantly before the conversation switches to something more exciting. For now, Nikki lets it go, just until she can get her eldest in a room by himself, and before you get home.

It’s when Tom’s getting snacks for the group that Nikki decides to offer her help in the kitchen. They’re just putting dinner in the oven and preparing appetizers, but still, any opportunity to talk to Tom.

“So,” Nikki smiles, and Tom giggles while she puts another slice of tomato on the dish they’re preparing. “Moving out, huh?”

Though her tone is teasing, Tom can’t help but get shivers. He nods, quieting down a bit. Nikki’s movements remain, but Tom stops working altogether. “I don’t want to move out.”

His mum turns to look at him, and she nods, almost as if anticipating the confession. “Why not?”

Tom clicks his tongue, looking down as if he’s ashamed of feeling this way. “I just like things the way they are right now. I know at some point, someone’s gonna move out and the clan’s gonna go our separate ways, but I don’t want to be the one to go first.”

At this, Nikki fully turns to talk to Tom, no longer making dinner. “Tom…” She wipes her hands on a kitchen towel, and Tom does the same. “You were the first to go, you know.”

His eyebrows pull together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she sighs, “Your career was first to take off. You ran out that door so fast, we couldn’t keep up.” Tom laughs, reminiscing to himself. “You’re going to keep growing,” she says softly. “You can’t stop that. You can’t stop everyone from growing apart. Sure, you might not grow apart, but you won’t always be this cute little boy band from your school days.”

“Not a boy band, mum,” Tom grumbles. The two of them share a knowing smile.

“You can’t blame yourself for growing, darling,” she steps closer, grabbing one of his hands just like he had grabbed hers the day he was first born. “You can’t expect to be the glue that holds this- this temporary situation together forever. You’re not a superhero,” the two of them laugh again, but then Tom nods knowingly, and Nikki can see a faint batch of tears spring in his eye sockets.

“No, I know, mum.” He sniffles. “I guess… I don’t know, i’ve just always been afraid of never being there when everything changes. I always come back and everyone’s a different person, just…” he searches for the words, “with the same faces.”

She nods, turning back to her dinner dish. Tom keeps his eyes trained on his hands, which are planted on the countertop.

“She loves you a lot, you know.” Nikki says after a few beats. “She just wants a bit of privacy, a bit of your relationship without your annoying brothers.”

“Annoying is right,” Tom teases. They laugh again. “Yeah, I guess I just never thought of that.” Nikki hums, and the kitchen grows silent for a few moments. “Thank you, mum.”

“For what?”

“Being there.” Tom replies. “You never gave up on me, and now… I don’t know. It means a lot to me that you’re helping me with something so important to me.”

Nikki’s eyes soften, and both of them tear up. She nods, this time breaking the silence again. “I know how much you love her,” She says quietly. “One day, she’ll be yours for forever. She’s the one — I can see it in both of your eyes.”

Tom sucks in a breath and wipes his eyes. “I know she’s the one, too.” He adds in another tomato to the dish. “She’s always been it for me.”

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wornoutmouse · 3 years

Note

May I request Ogun with a Black shy female reader doing a training session that leads to a little bit more 🙈

Anon please

You’re a second-generation pyrokinetic (Like Joker and Maki). Idk why but I made up in my head that you have flint-bottomed tap-dancing shoes that briefly light when you scrape your feet against the floor…..so that’s where you get your fire from 🤣🤣🤣

This one is a bit longer than normal cause i gotta build the tension

I am terrible at action scenes bruh

Chug- lift heels, slide forward, and then drop the heels at the end of the slide forwards

“Hey, Y/n!” You look up from the bland mashed potatoes and corn Company 5 had prepared. It was a hot Sunday morning and your partner in crime was as excited as ever. He stood a few feet away at the back entrance in the cafeteria. Cocking a thumb behind him, he dawns a toothy grin. “Want to play a quick game?” The game Ogun hinted at was one you were quite familiar with and one you should have known he would ask you to participate in today. “Fine, but don’t cry when I win.” You scoop another spoonful of corn before tossing your tray away for recycling. You’d need all your strength cause Ogun never lost without asking for back-to-back redos.

.You didn’t quite understand the need to be sweaty all the time, but always gave in to his whims

Ogun preferred to train in the field where the sun shined the most throughout the day at the far left of the Company. Often as you went on throughout your day-to-day training, you’d spot Ogun doing laps and practicing his attacks throughout the day.

“I’m feeling fired up today Y/n, you might want to be worried.” You close your eyes as you stretched an arm over your chest. You had yet to lose but you knew Ogun only saw that as a personal goal to get past. “Let’s get this over with, I’m tired.” The smell of smoke enters your nostrils giving you enough time to dodge Oguns boosted attack. “I told you about letting yourself known Mr. Montgomery.” You open your eyes, Oguns skin was lit ablaze with his pyrokinetic abilities.

From afar you’ve always admired the swirls that decorated his skin whenever you got amped up, and this time was no different. “I see you’re already using “Flaming Ink” what, you already scared?” Ogun widened his stance, glowing white eyes watching you shift your feet. “I’ve been working on a new move that I want to show you so why don’t you try your little fire trick.”

Curious, you scuff your shoe on the floor and draw your fire...only the fire doesn’t come. You do it again and the light goes out just as quick as it came. “What did you do?” You narrowed your eyes at Ogun. “Oh nothing, I’m just faster than you now.” You take a few steps back, “Oh that’s how you want to play it? Okay!” You take off running at the very edge of the field and Ogun is fast behind you. Internally you admit that he had gotten much faster, but a simple fact as that wasn’t going to make you lose.

Doing your best to maintain speed, you chug and draw the flames close to your chest out of Montgomery’s line of sight. It was small, mostly snuffed by the kick of your legs as you ran but it was big enough to get the job done. Similar to Ogun in his natural state, you too could throw projectiles just not as damage-inducing.

Turning around as you run, your eyes widen when Ogun appears just inches in front of you, “Surprise!” Your flame is snuffed and you tumble bringing Montgomery down with you. You prepare to feel your body be crushed by his muscled one but at the last minute your shoulders are grabbed and you flip again. The change in elevation causes you to lose a bit of focus, but you can still clearly feel Ogun cushion your fall.

“Oh wow, this looks like something out of an anime.” Ogun laughs when he finds himself lying flat on his back, you positioned comfortably on top of him. The position was completely ridiculous with your thighs straddling his stomach but you were thankful that you wouldn’t be in any sort of pain later.

“Looks like I’ll need to train harder huh?” You playfully punch Ogun’s shoulder. Even though the whole ordeal only lasted 6 minutes, you could feel your back drenched with sweat. While you couldn’t wait to get in the shower, Ogun seemed content with being in a salty state. “You’re dripping all over me you know?” Your head immediately snapped down to look at Ogun with wide eyes, “Excuse me?”

Ogun had a neutral look on his face not hinting at any humor behind his words. “You’re sweating really bad. Did little ole me get you all worked up?” He had to be teasing you at this point, but you couldn’t find a single crack in his facade. “Yeah well, maybe if you didn’t choose this big ass field with no trees I wouldn’t be 2 seconds from passing out.” You stand up, a bit wobbly, and help him up. “I’m going to go shower, you can stay out here if you want to.”

Ogun happily joins you on the way to the showers. You could hear his excitement from finally beating you. “Don’t get cocky, it was a one-time occurrence Ogun.” An arm is slung over your shoulder. In a smug tone, Ogun mocks you, “Don’t be mad cause you lost. You’ve had enough time to be cocky on your own terms.” You gasp mockingly before turning your head to spit back a remark but lose your breath from how close his face is to yours. At such close proximity, you become aware of small details. How his skin shinned in the sunlight, how Oguns eyes contained such a very specific hue of orange that they mimicked the fire of Sol almost precisely. You even wouldn’t be surprised if they would burn to the touch.

“What’s the matter, got nothing to say?” Out of instinct, you shove his head away with so much force he goes flying before landing on his ass. Before any questions are asked you deflect, “Gross I got your B.O all on my shoulders.” From behind Ogun scoffs, “How dare you, any other fine lady would be blessed to be near my manly musk.” Stifling a laugh you utter one final tease before slipping into the girl’s shower, “Yeah, manly must.”

It was endless labor as your captain followed you around, blowing that damn whistle. Given laundry duty, you had to take multiple shifts back and forth throughout each level of the building to collect everyone’s clothing. When you came across Ogun’s level your job was hindered as you were forced to wait as he sifts through his piles of dirty laundry, “Trush me Y/n, there’s a shirt that I accidentally put in here but it’s actually clean.” “Ogun if it’s in the dirty clothes then it’s dirty.” You try to haul his stuff out but he stops you. “I swear if you don’t move I’ll burn your stuff.”

Ogun chuckles, “You burn my clothes and it’ll catch your clothing as well.” Ogun reaches inside the pile you held pulling out a blank white T-shirt that looked annoyingly similar to the 12 other T-shirts you had watched him toss to the side. “Unless of course, you’re trying to go streaking which by all means I encourage you to.” You ignore his joke and pretend it doesn’t strike a certain feeling in your gut.

For your next task, you had to prepare different levels of activities for a group of 5th graders coming to the company the next day. Of course, Ogun would be assigned to the same task as well so while you worked diligently to bring equipment from the storage room, Ogun spent his time using each of the items incorrectly. “Please stop bouncing the footballs with the tennis racket before you get hurt.” Ogun ignored you as he dribbled with the racket. “Don’t be mad cause you’re not as creative as me.”

Well, as you predicted Ogun ends up getting punted in the face when he tries to toss the football in the hoop. Even though the sound it made on impact was loud and hollow, Ogun barely flinches when it ricochets. “Wow you seem pretty experienced with getting hit in the face with balls, you barely moved.” Ogun glared as he watched you pick up the football. Absentmindedly you spin the football as you speak, “You know if I didn’t know any bet-” Your speech is gargled when your mouth becomes stuffed.

While you weren’t watching Ogun through a basketball at your hand making you push the end of the football in your mouth. “Wow you seem pretty experienced with balls in your mouth, you gotta show me some time.” You cradle your mouth, it throbbed with dull pain and resentment filled your mind. “I’m sure it’ll be easy, there aren’t going to be too many inches stopping me.”

At this point, both your nerves are on high alert, and the energy in the air shifts from playful to angry. “Oh yeah?” Ogun walks slowly and calmly towards you, raising a brow when you stumble back yet still maintain your glare. The hand cradling your jaw is held tightly in his grasp, “Would you like to try?” The dare only eggs you on, “You won’t last a second.” The faint twitch of his temple lets you know you hit a nerve.

*Wheeeeze*

Both you and Ogun’s heads snap to the left. Pan stood at the gym doorway arms waving and whistle blowing, a clear attempt at reprimanding your laziness. The playful aura comes back and you and Ogun are subjected to extra work for your negligence. “This is your fault you know.” he shoots back, “I don’t want to hear it Montgomery.”

Ogun walked down the hallway in search of a new victim to torture, so it was only pure convenience when he stumbled near your living quarters and caught you just before you walked inside. “Y/n! You were absent for dinner.” You take one look at him before dashing into your room. All you wanted was to sleep, training with Ogun, and then having to complete your own set of chores plus extra was tiering. So seeing Ogun wandering out and about during the late hours only met trouble.

You jolt from your train of thought as your door is banged on. “Go away Montgomery, I’m trying to sleep.” Ogun whined, “Well you weren’t trying too hard cause you weren’t in your room yet, now let me in.” You kicked the door back, “No, now go away!”

No sound is heard, not even a shuffle. Sighing you walk towards your bed with a content smile, you’d apologize to him later but now it was your time for rest. Heavy wind billowed through your opened window making you shiver as the curtains tickle your skin. The sharp coolness made your teeth rattle but it was just the right amount of cool you needed in order to head off quickly to dream land. Turning the dial of your lamp, your room is shrouded in darkness and you climb underneath the covers. Nothing could stop the relaxation you were about to receive…….nothing but the feeling of “something ain’t right.”

Opening your eyes and expecting the worse, you are then greeted with the worst as the same fiery eyes you admired hours before, hovered above your face. “You should really close your window.” You scream and throw a punch in Oguns direction but it is in vain as he catches it and pins it down. “I should really get you back for doing that earlier.” Ogun doesn’t make any move to let you go or even speak again. “How the hell did you get there so fast?” You are unable to look away from his eyes, nothing else would have mattered anyway.

More wind blows through your curtains. “I told you I’ve gotten faster.” You can feel his breath caressing your cheek the closer he gets to your face. The hand wrapped around your wrist tightens despite your body being slackened. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah”

No one knows who moved first. All you know is that your pajamas were being ripped off of your body as Ogun aggressively devoured your lips. Tossing everything to the ground, Ogun sits above you, with his shirt was off, you are given the liberty to admire his chiseled body. Ogun makes quick work with fingering you open, watching with a toothy grin as your chest shakes and your breath stutters. “Not talking much now are you?” He doesn’t care if you respond, all he cares about is wearing you down. You pull him closer, nails dragging down his back, as your orgasm overwhelms you. “Ogun!” Your legs are hiked up and over his shoulders as he positions below you.

“Good job, I don’t want to hear anything else but my name.” The stretch was burning and filled you tightly. “How many inches you think that is?” You weakly slap Ogun’s arm as he weakly ruts into you before pulling out completely, “S-Stop making fun of me.” “ Aww, but it’s fun!” Ogun is slow and precise as he mashes his hips forward. There is no hesitation and the pace stays at a fluid toe-curling pressure. “You’re so silent now Y/n. Tell me, how does it feel, huh?” Your back raises from off the bed, “It...good-I oh god!��

The simple fact that you couldn’t speak sent tremors to Oguns cock. He wanted to tease you more, make you break. Your pussy was wet and sopping for him and not even Sol could make him stop fucking you, not when you looked so beautiful underneath him. But a mischievous streak doesn’t go away that easy.

Leaning back on his haunches, you are put back on top of Ogun, the same position you were in when on the feild. He doesn’t move and just looks at you, “What are, what are you doing?” You try to bounce but he holds you down making you pulse around him. “Please let me move.” But he doesn’t, the only movement you get is when you’re held down harder on his cock. “How many inches Y/n?” You shrug, “I don’t freaking know like 5 or something!?” You just wanted to cum not answer a random questionnaire.

Ogun uses his strength to lift you up and slam you back down. “Wrong, try again.” It takes a moment for you to catch the breath that got knocked out at the second stroke. “Do you really want me to stroke your stupid ego, fine 8inches!” You are slammed down again and this time it hits a special spot just short of your G. “Wrong again, don’t be a smart ass Y/n” He rubbed your side. “Come on, play my game for a little bit, don’t you want to cum on my dick?” Oguns hands squeeze your breasts, thumbs rotating the dark circles of your areolas leaving your nipples to tingle in need.

“Si-Six damn it! It has to be like 6.” your answer is mumbled but is loud enough to satisfy Ogun. As if you weighed nothing less than a piece of paper, Ogun uses his thighs to bounce you on his cock. Your chest bounces in his face taking his immature mind to cloud nine. He could feel the tell tell sign of his own orgasms cumming, as your ass slammed down on his shaft. “Stop squeezing down so damn hard!”

Being the person you are, you don’t listen even after you feel Ogun spill inside of you. “Oh fuck!” You rearrange your own legs and start bouncing at your own pace. The tight grip on your waist means nothing as you chase your second cumming. “Hurry up you little shit my balls are burning!” Ogun tossed his head back as his mouth releases cracked moans. His cock continued to twitch as it became softer but still stimulated. Soon, Ogun couldn’t take the stimuli anymore and pushes you down on the bed. The feeling of his fingers thrusting in and out of your pussy was a little less satisfying than his cock but you cream around it just as easily.

You lay down giggling while Ogun goes in and out of sleep. “I was right, you didn’t last a second.” “Shut the hell up, you’re like a vice.” Your sweaty state somehow doesn’t bother you as you rest in the afterglow. Your blinds continue to shimmer as the wind continues to blow. “Five and a half.” The numbers mean nothing to your muddled brain, “What?” Ogun looks at you, “5 and a half inches is the correct answer but I appreciate the 6.”

Suddenly the glow was no longer worth it.

#ogun x reader #ogun smut #fire force smut #anime smut #poc reader

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cloudy-leonhart · 4 years

Note

DID I SEE YOU WANT ANGST REQUESTS???

i gotchu mamacita🙊🙊

Alrighty so;

After an expedition, Levi’s (crush or s/o, whichever you want) was reported missing. Of course, he felt so useless that he wasn’t near you so he can make sure you get back to the walls safely. He did care about deeply, more than anyone else he was close with, it was like he knew you two were soulmates ya’know? Levi sent out many MANY soldiers, and Erwin wasn’t going to stop him. He knew why Levi was doing this. But what he didn’t know, was that Levi’s heart was slowly tearing into many, dozens of pieces. Many soldiers wanted to go back to the walls, since they have families. Levi didn’t care and tells them to keep searching. They would not return until they found his (crush / s/o). on the third day. They have finally found you. Levi was shocked, yet happy they’ve found you. They took you back to the wall. You had to be taken to the infirmary. But little did Levi know. You died two days earlier. When Levi found out. His heart was completely teared. Levi was different, and he would never be the same.. he cared about you, he loved you.. now you’re gone.

I SUCK AT PLOTS, BUT HOPEFULLY YOU’LL TAKE THIS😭👩🏼‍⚖️/ anyways have a good day/night. Take care of yourself mwah

oh and;

happy hange :D

Levi’s just; 🧍🏻

Holy- well- break my heart why don’t you :D I’m going to edit around the plot a bit, instead of waiting, let’s just say they couldn’t find Reader’s body just yet, and I will also make this a harder pill to swallow with.. unrequited love.

---

We Never Stood A Chance. (Levi x Reader ft. Erwin)

Summary: Levi felt so stupid for leaving you behind, he thought you were with him, he thought he could’ve saved you, he thought that maybe he’ll be able to keep you away from the horrid creatures of the world you were both born in, but you guys never stood a chance.

Pairings: Levi x Reader, A SMUDGE of Erwin x Reader.

Female Reader.

Recommended Song: The One That Got Away. - Katy Perry.

Theme: Angst, Canonverse.

TW: Death, injuries, blood, swearing, fighting, aggressive behaviour.

“Damn it!” Levi kicked his desk, making a prominent dent into the oak wood. He took deep breaths, anger running through his veins. “Damn it, damn it, damn it!!” He repeated over and over again, punching the stone wall of his office, almost being able to make a crack into it.

He should’ve checked if you were there before going back to the walls, god knows what happened to you while they left you there, he felt a shiver creep his back, as he clicked his tongue, pacing his room out of anger and worry.

A bang from his door was heard as his gaze quickly focused themselves to the noise, hoping, begging, it was you who stood in the doorframe. He doesn’t care if you were dirty, just you. It has to be. Instead, he made contact with Erwin’s angered expression, the blonde’s jaw was clenched, as he took big strides getting closer to Levi’s unresting figure.

Erwin’s hands balled up the fabric of Levi’s shirt, the blonde looking like he had steam coming from out his ears, “You lost her?!” Levi grunted pulling away from Erwin’s touch, angry.

“Get your dirty hands off of me,” He spat at Erwin’s face, glaring straight at the blonde’s blue orbs, an unexplainable anger burning in Levi’s eyes. Erwin was angered, he couldn’t control himself and had punched Levi straight in the face, the black-haired captain grunting and falling back against his desk.

The room stayed quiet for a few moments, their heavy breaths and the droplets of blood into a puddle were the only sounds they could hear. “I’m not going to deny that I lost her during the retreat, but soldiers are already out there searching for her.”

Levi grumbled, pulling his cravat from out of his neck, he clicked his tongue, seeing the trail of blood stains, and deciding to use it to wipe the blood away from his face, which was scowled in disgust.

“And don’t care for her now, you didn’t care then, that’s why she chose me.” Erwin shut his eyes in denial as he started to walk away. “The survey corps-” Levi stopped him from answering any further. “The survey corps is more important than personal affairs. I get it.” Levi looked straight at Erwin’s retreating figure.

“How dumb do you have to be, choosing the same option twice, first, Marie. Then, Reader.” Levi took a jab at Erwin, the blonde’s fist tightened, stopping him from beating the life out of the captain. “You don’t get it.” He couldn’t make up a defence against Levi, knowing that he did feel dumb, choosing the same thing rather than being selfish.

“I do get it, being stubborn is going to get you killed. Reader loved you too, you know,” Levi threw the cravat on his desk as he sucked in a breath, his nose aching in pain. “If I hadn’t been there, she would’ve probably died in your arms.” He spat out every insult in his mind, slowly breaking down Erwin’s lies.

Erwin opened his mouth, his throat running dry, not being able to respond to Levi’s words, knowing it’s true. Before he could ever say anything, a soldier had barged in, a bit shocked at the heavy tension the soldier was faced with.

“Captain Reader, she’s been found-” A heavy push has stopped the soldier from talking, Erwin watched as Levi left with haste.

---

Running into the hall, Levi didn’t have anything on his mind besides you, he wants to know if you’re okay, if you were breathing, if you were alive. He made turns around the headquarters, his chest heaved up and down, signalling his erratic breath.

He stopped in front of the infirmary’s curtains. He regained his breath, his hand took hold of the rough fabric of the curtain and pushed it aside, seeing the busy nurses running around like crazy. Various doctors and nurses worked on different, injured cadets. Their uniforms covered in blood stains, the nurses no longer knew who’s blood on their uniform was who’s.

Levi paid no attention to the crowd of nurses and doctors and peeked on their patients, some he knew, some he didn’t. He was just looking for you, for your face. He didn’t care whether he’d be dirtied with the messes in the infirmary.

He looked and looked, went through the same rows over and over, making sure he didn’t miss a single cadets, he thought you were here, was the cadet lying to him? you were not in any of the infirmary beds.

He internally panicked as he went to leave the room, the stench of blood reaching his nose, when a hand came to hold his shoulder, he froze and turned around, making eye contact with a doctor, the man had a grim expression, which made Levi’s stomach curl.

“Mr. Ackerman. Follow me.” His voice laid low, his eyes flickering from the ground to his face, he felt compelled to follow, but did so either way. They passed the injured cadets, walking to another part of the infirmary, it was way more noisy compared to the area where nurses and doctors were working.]

The doctor came in, his hand making a ‘come here’ motion to him, the doctor’s figure disappearing into the room, Levi felt a shiver run down his spine, he took hold of the curtain and entered, being faced with crying families, and deceased cadets.

Levi stopped, taking a step back. He looked around, a tight feeling starting to surface in his body, he stitched the loud cries easily to people around him, he shook his head, wanting to retreat back into his office when a hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Mr. Ackerman.” The same doctor called out, Levi’s head whipped around, a perplexed look on his face.

His steel blue eyes looked for a motive on why he was being brought here, he looked into the doctors eyes, searching for clues on reading this man’s purpose.

The doctor no longer waited for a response, dragging Levi by the upper arm, the black-haired captain still baffled, confused and getting a little claustrophobic. The doctor stopped at a certain closed curtained spot way in the back of the infirmary. He looked at Levi and gave him a pat on the shoulder, before leaving.

Levi was still confused, what does the doctor want to show him? His hands pulled at the curtain, entering and closing the curtain, so that whatever this is, nobody could see. He could see a body outline on the sheet of the bed, a throbbing pain started to pound in his chest, walking up to the body.

He ignored the throbbing pain, taking hold of the sheet by the corner, with each second he used to uncover this dead body, the pain worsened, as if it’s telling him not to, or he’s going to regret it. Levi grunted and pulled the cover away.

His breath was caught on his throat, it was you. The one person he came to the infirmary for. He could feel his chest pounding extremely hard, as if someone had shot him in the chest, or stabbed a knife in his back, he held the dusty night table as a support, feeling his legs start to go jelly-like. His eyes were widened.

He couldn’t believe his eyes, it wasn’t you, it couldn’t be, he wouldn’t forgive himself if it’s you. He could never live with himself happily, he promised he’d protect you. His eyes widened for a few moments before it relaxed, not finding the energy to cry, scream, even to be angry.

Another person had entered the area, and from the expensive cologne, he could tell it was Erwin. Levi didn’t bother acknowledging him as he sat on the edge of the bed, caressing your pale skin, his thumb ran across the dry lips, blood decorated your used-to-be rosy lips, he sighed, it was probably painful when you died, painful and lonely.

“Levi..” Erwin called out softly, standing by him, both of them silently mourning over your dead body, Erwin’s hand tightened around Levi’s shoulder silently, he felt his eyes stinging, as he pushed aside the quarrel they both had in Levi’s office.

“She was strong you know,” Levi mumbled, his eyes grazing over your pale and discoloured body, your hair looked faded and grey, no longer shining, “if I had to pick someone, who’d survive being left outside the walls, I would’ve picked her.” a small pathetic chuckle left after Levi’s sentence. “But, I guess I was wrong, seeing as she didn’t even last a few hours.” Levi pulled the bloodied stray hair from out of your face.

You looked peaceful at least, he knows it was painful. He hopes that you didn’t endure it long, you didn’t suffer, he hopes. Levi and Erwin mourned together, but their words stayed in their hearts, they both silently grieved, both scared of forgetting you.

---

“Levi!” You jumped up and down, waving your hand like a maniac, a field surrounded you both, you ran towards the man you truly loved, and still do love. You jumped in his arms as his caught you, spinning around lightly. “What’s got you so happy this morning?” He asked, pulling you close, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek.

You laughed as your hands connected around his neck, your warm hands making shiver a bit. “Nothing, just you. That reminds me, let’s go on our picnic now, yeah?” You pulled away from him, walking down the hill, making sure you don’t tumble down and ruin your sundress, it would be a shame to go to a picnic in dirty clothing.

You both spent most of the morning laughing and telling stories to each other, the sun was beautiful as it started to set into the afternoon. Yours and Levi’s laughter had died down softly as you held the cup of juice in your hand, you looked over to Levi who you think was enjoying the view.

“This is the longest you’ve ever slept, Levi.” You stated, swirling your cup of juice around. He hummed, looking over the field, scattered around you, daises and other types of flowers decorated the lush grass. “You picked the field again. Why not the corps headquarters?” You asked, Levi turned to you, making eye contact with you. Your eyes held curiosity for him.

“I guess, because that’s where I last saw you?” He more so sounded like he questioned rather than he stated. You smiled. “Levi,” You sat closer to him, face-to-face. “Don’t say it, please.” He softly begged, looking down. You grab hold of his chin, making him look at you, you made contact with the mechanical blue eyes you fell in love with.

“I can’t stay forever. Levi, you did your best.” Levi pulled away from your hand, “No, no I didn’t, I couldn’t do it. I promised and I broke it-” You sighed and took hold of his shoulders. “Levi, enough! You fulfilled your promise, you did do it, and you did one hell of a job at it. I’m so proud of you for doing so, Levi.” You held onto him as he clutched your dress in his palms, his teeth gritted, trying to accept that he did an amazing job protecting you.

“It’s okay, Levi. It’s okay, you can let go.” You comforted him, pulling him into you. He nuzzled his head into your neck, as he let out a sigh, trying to remember how you smelled. You were fading away from him, he wasn’t ready to let go.

The beautiful scenery started to grey, the world he tried so hard to envision living with you started to fade. “You’re waking up, Levi.” You mumbled, still holding him in your arms. “Please don’t go, I never begged in my life but I’m begging you to stay.” He held you closer and tighter as you smiled. “I’m never gone Lee..You can’t see me but I’ll always be with you,” You pulled him arms away, “It’s okay, it’s time to let go.”

“Wait!-” Levi sat up abruptly, a cold sweat coating his body. His chest felt tight, his hand running through his hair as he tried to remember his dream, each time he dreamt of you, it was more real than the last one.

He could feel something went coming down his face, his hand wiped at his cheek, a clear liquid on his hand, he was crying. He felt shocked, before he started to chuckle silently, you’re still affecting him even when you’re gone.

He pulled his covers out, he knew he wouldn’t be able to go back to bed, and so like he always does, he went to make himself tea. He came back with two teacups, he walked towards the table in your former shared room with Levi. He placed the teacups facing each other.

“You loved drinking my tea during this time, I hope you can still enjoy it, Reader.” Levi said, taking a sip of his tea as looked out the window, watching the sky turn into a midnight blue to a beautiful yellow.

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hes-writer · 3 years

Text

Patreon Masterlist

These are exclusive fics that you can read on my Patreon!

* = complete, ^ = in-progress, + = will be posted on tumblr, (s) = smut (implied or mentioned) writing count: 78 pieces

**billing cycle currently paused** | new patrons will still be charged

This is a reupload of my masterlist with sneak peeks of each piece so you know what's up :D

Multi-Part Series | One Shots | Drabbles | Extras

* Unwavering (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) - 6.5k, the one where harry cheats (again)

"Right. Maybe we can go out tonight to grab some dinner," She suggested, a hopeful glint in her eyes and he almost felt guilty for putting her on the back burner of his mind. "I really have to go, baby," Peeking his head around her frame, he spotted the untouched toast and apple juice resting on where he should be. "I'm sorry."

^ + Roommate Series (3) (4) (5) (6) - 9.8k, the one where harry and y/n are roommates

He sighed, “I finished my coffee ages ago. I was just waiting for you to finish studying so we could leave together and go home,” Y/N dropped her fingers from his wrist, slouching the slightest bit as butterflies attacked her stomach. “Don’t look at me like that. I just wanted you to get home safe,” He nudged her forehead with the ball of his palm, his face contorting to annoyance.

^ + Notes on Camp (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) - 16.5k, the one where harry and y/n are camp counsellors

Y/N looked around to be met with puckered lips and clenched hands as the campers practically requested for her to kiss their favourite counsellor. Wide, hopeful stares were willing her to commit.

“Alright, alright,” She bent her upper body to reach his cheek, licking over her lips once before pressing it on his skin. It was only a quick peck and then she pulled back. He stayed unmoving.

Jacky and Emy poked their finger at him on opposite sides. His cheek dimpling with their small indents. “Maybe you should do it again?”

* Friends Don't (1) (2) (3)- 3k, the one where lines are crossed

“It’s Harry Styles fanfiction on Tumblr,” She suggested a conversation, shyly smiling in embarrassment. “I can see that,” He murmured, using his thumb to scroll through the rest of the story, “It’s . . . interesting. People write these about me?” His retort made the situation seem like an utter surprise.

* Digress, Progress, Regress Series - 5k, the one where harry falls out of love

Y/N wondered if there was a chance to fixing what has been lost--what has disappeared as the canvas soaked through in a permeated osmosis. Coating the brush of blue with white paint took several layers to completely cover the mistakes. There had to be an effort in wanting to make the faults and errors completely opaque from the eye; the bleary, watery irises soaked with tears, dampening her lashes in a thick haze as she cried.

Tickle Fights (1) - 1.2k, the one where bff!y/n teases harry about his boner

“What’s going on here, Harry?” The light tone of her voice indicated that she was teasing him, paired with the subtle movements of her lower half. Harry whined in response, feeling the blood rush downwards to make him even stiffer. “Does this feel good? Got hard over me straddling you, huh?” It was almost degrading, the way Y/N formed her question yet Harry couldn’t help a whimper from lingering in the air. He nodded, hands sliding down to grip at her moving hips.

Real Mature (1) (2) - part two is patron exclusive! - 603 words, the one where bff!harry and y/!n fight

“You shouldn’t have. I’m sorry for being bitter about you and Ruby,” She rested her forearms on his shoulders in a slant when he stood to his full height. “I know you’re happy with her,” Harry gave her a shy smile that confirmed his words. Ruby is someone special to Harry now and Y/N had to learn how to share his time, attention, and affection. “I reckon I’m just missing you a lot more now,” Y/N’s tone was sad and despondent, trailing her gaze to the floor where she almost chuckled at Harry’s fuzzy bunny slippers which she had gotten him.

^ Fine Line Series: Adore You - 1.1k the one where harry and y/n are friends with benefits

Still, with her back against the wall and Harry’s fingers still gripping her hips—she waited for his response. I told you I loved you. Say it back, Y/N thought. “I love her, Y/N,” He mumbled against her neck in a drunken stupor. So close.

Kinkmas Blurbs (1 - 7) - 4.6k, the one where it’s all smutty

Maybe it was the way that his jaw ticked harshly every time he threw his head back at a particularly good stroke. You wondered what he was imagining that had him bucking his hips to his fist before realizing that the movements would probably cause you to wake up. Still, his hooded lids didn’t peel open—not until a core shaking fondle of his heavy balls forced a choked whine out of his throat.

Harry’s neck snapped to your figure, catching the way you looked at him as if you were in distress that he wasn’t cumming anytime soon—not when you were there, willing and able to help.

“Fuck, love. ‘M sorry,” He mumbled, not stopping the flicks of his wrist. In fact, you swore that you could hear the squelching of his clear pre-cum squishing between his fingers.

The Secretary (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) 11k, the one where harry is the CEO and y/n is the assistant (cheating fic)

Two months ago, Y/N unburied a not-so-hidden secret that Harry tried to bury. Two months ago, Y/N walked in on her boyfriend and his secretary fucking on his office table. Two months ago, Y/N experienced everything from pain and discomfort, to disappointment and being scornful. She threaded the line of confronting him or waiting for the day he came forward and admitted it himself. There was a desire for Y/N to see Harry sweat beneath her beady eyes, watching him scratch the back of his pants in a nervous manner. She wanted to hear him stutter as he spat an excuse, she yearned to see him pleading with his gorgeous green eyes for her to stay. Y/N craved for his throat to close up, whimpers choked from his trachea because he was losing his stability as she walked away from him.

(s) Tension (1) (2) - 5.3k, the one where harry and y/n hate each other

“S’that why you hate me so much?”

His fingertips tapped his thigh methodically, crumpling a faint thud against his jeans. With how close they were sitting, Y/N’s bare knee brushed against his clothing. A burn of desire and anticipation lit inside of her like a dose of gasoline another in a flaming hot fire.

Harry shook his head, “Don’t hate you."

Champagne Problems- 4.4k, the one where marriage is a sensitive topic, the 1 - coming soon!

The freshly popped bottle of champagne poured into the flute on the table beside her bubbled and simmered, the sizzling reaction of the golden liquid ignited a moment of realization within her. The reason why her body felt more weighted, why tears filled her glazed eyes, pricking her corneas and threatening to spill down her face. Y/N’s heart had cracked–she was certain that everybody around her could hear it.

One Shot

(s) Achy Back - 813 words, the one where harry draws y/n a bath

A pout sat on her face as Harry stopped himself from ducking his head and catching her plush lips with his, craving the sweet taste of her and her strawberry lip balm. Her arms wrapped around his snatched waist, halting his breath at the tightness of her embrace and settling for a kiss on her forehead, the scent of her shampoo wafting in his nostrils, knowing that she had taken shower hours prior.

A Letter to the Man I’ve Loved - 1.5k, the one where harry receives a letter from his ex

Is it really worth it to look back in retrospect about ‘what had been’ when she can think about ‘what could have been’ if both of them realized their faults? Granted, he was more resilient in that sense than her, but he was no better at the time. She made mistakes and it had haunted her to this day, practically killing her with each moment she spent without him by her side.

Renegade - 981 words, the one where harry and y/n do a tiktok dance

“What are y’doing?” Harry asked, his eyes wide as his large palms ruffled the fluffy towel on his damp curls. The steam from the bathroom escaped to your bedroom where you were panting with effort, your chest heaving so hard that the peaks of your breasts rose with each breath.

“Uh, what are you doing?” You retorted slowly, hiding your hands behind your back were your fingers gripped your phone. Your thumb dug hard on the volume bottom, frantically trying to decrease the music from the phone speaker.

(s) Drop the Towel - 644 words, the one where harry does the ‘drop the towel’ challenge

You gasped at the sight, the knife clanging on the marble counter, “Ooh, hi there,”

He smirked cockily, watching your eyes observe his body, tongue subconsciously peeking out between your lips until you snapped your head to the window, “Oh my god! There are people out there, Harry!” You wailed in alarm, bending over to hand him his towel.

All I Ask - 2.2k, the one where feelings aren’t mutual

“I don’t want to be scared of what will happen tomorrow or if all we have is right now because we’ll have nothing left but I am,” A sob ripped through his throat, emotions were heightened tenfold because she was so close yet so far and they were still Harry and Y/N but at the same time they weren’t. They’ve changed over the span of one night. “All we have is tonight,”

Little Prince - 583 words, the one where 7-year-old harry takes care of his best friend

“Y/N? Y/N! Are you okay? I’m so so sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen. I swear I wasn’t mad at you, I was just jok- Why are you smiling?” Harry yelped, panic evident in his shrill voice. His hands wandered towards her face, tilting it left to right, up and down, searching for any visible and invisible injuries besides the bump on her forehead.

Stressed Out - 1.8k, the one where y/n has a huge term paper due

“What d’ya mean I don’t get it?” He closed the paperback, making sure to clip in his bookmark to save his spot.

A pregnant pause slithered the room. Her fingers typing against the keys of her laptop ceased as she shot him a glare, “You’re not studying, are you? All you do is write songs, fiddle with a few instruments and sing it in front of people who adore you,”

Valentine’s Day - 1.5k, the one where harry runs into trouble and y/n is there to save him

“Shit! Are you crazy?” Y/N gasped in surprise when the passengers seat was occupied, the door opening and slamming shut all while the car moved at a speed of 15 km/h —cursing her forgetfulness for not clicking the locks shut.

“Keep driving!” The passenger shouted, looking back through the windshield.

Dream With Me - 1.3k, the one where y/n has trouble sleeping

Harry’s admiration gets interrupted when a sudden jolt took over Y/N’s body. He dropped his mouth open a little in shock, rubbing her back soothingly when she whimpered quietly, “Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe with me,” She must have had experienced one of those moments when she was falling until her vision drooped to a shaded black.

Pet Name - 1.2k, the one where bff!harry just wants y/n to call him by his pet name again

His voice emulated a soft, syrupy tone that lingered in the air whenever he spoke. He was the colour honey itself–golden and yellow like the colour of the sun. Harry was bright in its sense of intelligence and the way he illuminated the whichever room he entered. His kindness catered to everyone’s needs and left pieces of his heart wherever he went.

Harry was honey.

Shave - 768 words, the one where harry helps y/n shave her coochie

She sniffles some more, “I’m trying to shave, H. It’s so itchy but I-I can’t reach down there,”

Y/N began to sob. The rattle of the razor clanking on the bathtub floor where she sat her bum on the edge. Her baby bump was causing her to teeter over the porcelain which urged Harry to swiftly plant his hands on her to keep her steady.

“I’m so huge! I’m the size of a house,” Y/N palmed the crest of her bump, rubbing it loosely as she admired the stretched skin yet slightly wishing that it would disappear and she was holding their baby in her arms instead.

(s) Don’t Worry, Darling - 1.5k, the one where y/n rides harry

He slipped down the headboard, resting his back flat on the mattress with Y/N sliding with him. She positioned her feet to rest near his knees, wrapping their limbs together so she could have some sort of sanity whilst Harry incepted on his shattering thrusts. Feet were planted on the mattress to give his lower half elevation to propel his hips against Y/N’s core. Harry’s fingers left white marks on her skin, gripping the plush flesh and essentially spreading Y/N open as he rapidly shoved his dick over and over inside of her with no signs of slowing down. He staggered for a few moments when her pulsing core emitted dazing throbs over his leaking cock but Y/N was quick to duplicate and resume the pace he had set with the movement of her hips.

To Be Loved - 2.3k, the one where y/n’s feelings are more than friendly

“I love you. Don’t you love me back?”

Harry’s eyes visibly widened, clearly taken aback by the question spewing from Y/N’s mouth. Her heat cheeks and a shy stance; knees knocking against his knobby ones while her dainty hands interlaced her fingers.

Revelation - 2.1k, the one where famous!y/n and harry are spotted together (pre-relationship)

Before there were Harry and Y/N--the power couple--there was Harry and Y/N.

Y/N, who was one of the most sought after female artists in the industry because of her angelic voice. The woman who had managed to catch the lingering stares of every household and the ears of many listeners with her truthful songs; narrative from the experiences she had gone through and shared through the art of songwriting.

Harry, who was quite the artist for the night. Harry’s limbs were being pulled metaphorically every which to ensure that the cameras captured him clapping respectfully in the audience. Others were asking him to stay for a bit more time backstage for content for an upcoming video. Right now, he was sat in his uncomfortable chair beside a handful of producers and well-known singers. A brief hug and whisper with Ariana Grande were enough for their fans to implode about a possible collaboration, granted that Harry had written a song for her album before. But Harry was certain that that feature wasn’t coming for a long while.

Apple Cheeks - 1.1k, the one where harry says something and y/n isn’t listening

Clearing his throat, he began, “I love you, Y/N. And I know that it might be too soon considering how short our relationship has been so far but I-I really do have strong feelings for you,”

Harry dropped his gaze as soon as he managed to peel off the first three words from his hoarse throat. “You don’t have to say it back. I just wanted to let you know that I really care for you and me. I definitely something for us in the future and I hope you feel the same,”

Dreadful seconds shivered up Harry’s spine. His stare was still fixed on her shuffling feet and the floor. It was painful to hear nothing but silence so Harry decided to courageously lift his head up.

Affliction - 1.5k, the one where Harry breaks down (TW: depressive thoughts)

It wasn’t even that Harry did not know how to say ‘no’ because he truly did. However, anyone would be worn-out by the amount of exhaustion carried on his back. That cold shudder of loneliness--even when he wasn’t alone-- because nobody shared the experience of defeat with him. The twitch of his ears straining to listen when nobody would do the same for him. A subtle jerk of the corners of his lips because he could not keep the smile plastered on his face like paint chipping off the drywalls. The flutter of tired lids waiting to be shut tightly as tears were wrung from his green eyes, lashes tickling his skin underneath the violent colour of his eye bags.

From the Dining Table - 748 words, the one where y/n’s new boyfriend looks a lot like harry

Y/N wondered if her former lover shared the same thoughts as she did. The girl that he woke next to—was she still there? Did they share the bed together—not just in the morning—but the nights as well? If so, did Harry love her like he did with Y/N? Or was he just pretending to be okay like she was?

Blanket for Two - 990 words, the one where y/n kicks harry out of bed

And now, Harry was in bed with the woman he loves. Her light snores echoing in the dim room and he was staring up at the ceiling, shivering in his bones. If she were awake, Y/N probably would have made a snide, joking comment about how he shouldn’t sleep naked, especially in the winter. Not like she didn’t do that either--she was practically naked with the thin camisole over her body. The difference was that Y/N had an extra layer of blanket keeping her warm, shielding her skin from the night air and Harry only had the friction of his palms rubbing against his arms. He was sure that he was a hint away from his teeth chattering. Harry had half the mind to dip his freezing feet beneath the blanket and jolt her awake with the change in temperature.

That’ll show her, he thought.

Around 1:32 - 3.2k, the one where y/n has a wet dream

“What?” Harry spat, tugging his shirt over his head, waiting for you to form a coherent excuse. “‘Think that jus’ because you woke up horny from a dream that y’can touch yourself? What a slut. Are you that desperate?”

Your cheeks flamed at his words of degradation, doubling your arousal and one that had you smushing your thighs together to relieve the ache. You rolled your eyes as he continued his rant instead of using the time to keep you satisfied. That was his job, wasn’t it? To make you cum and make you feel nothing but pleasure, yet here he was shaming you for touching yourself. Granted, you did it without his permission and done so while he was asleep beside you, but still.

“Wouldn’t have touched myself if you treated me well.”

+ Stories in My Eyes - 1.2k, the one where dad!Harry gets woken up in the middle of the night

And while he liked to think that he had gotten the hang of—quite literally— his kid dangling on his leg like some sort of koala, pulling on his hair every time he gave Beau a piggy back ride, and the random visits late at night where the small child would stand at the doorway with his teddy bear so quietly only to say, “Can I sleep with you and mumma?” He was not at all prepared for tonight’s’ events.

+ Feather Boa - 1.5k, the one where harry comes home after the Grammys

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Oh, stop that!”

“Stop what?” Harry nudged the strap of his custom tote bag higher on his shoulder.

“You just won a Grammy, you goose!”

Harry’s gaze softened, endeared at how happy Y/N was for him. She was jumping on the tips of her toes, hands clasped in front of her as she stared at him with admiration and awe.

(s) Roughed Up - 2.8k, the one where harry’s domestic and y/n’s mind wanders

You whimper in return, almost collapsing straight on his body when Harry uses your body to move you up and down his cock. His curls flop on the soft pillow beneath his head, sweat matting the tiny hairs to his face. The way he looks at you with such intensity and a certain kind of awe as if he couldn’t believe that this was really happening is rewarding. Hooded eyes observing how your body twitches in his grip, gasping at how strong he felt underneath you like you were merely a ragdoll to be played wit

Pudding Cups - 1k, the one after harry steals food from the kitchen (Notes on Camp Extras)

“So is it common practice for counsellors to steal food from the kitchen?”

Harry lifts his head up at inquiry, shifting his attention from gently taking out the contents of the reusable bag towards Y/N. She was laying on his mattress, flat on her back as she stared at the wooden ceiling. If she looked closely, Y/N was sure that his light bulb was flickering the tiniest bit and usually, she would’ve been freaking out over the fact that she was in the middle of the woods, hovering over a potential power cut. But the fear subsided once she reminded herself that Harry was around.

“Hopefully not,” He muses with a suggestive eyebrow.

Drabbles:

(s) Drabble #1: Fratboy!Harry - 469 words, the one where y/n meets fratboy!harry at a party

Y/N snapped her head towards the member. When she applied for the rush, she didn’t expect that she would have to sleep with someone in order to officially join the sorority. “What? Why him?

Sadie chuckled, sensing the panic in her voice. “Don’t worry, Harry’s nice. Besides, everybody does it,” She swirled her drink around, mixing the liquids together. Her lashes draped over her cheeks, almost touching the apples. “Are you in?”

Drabble #2: Asshole!Harry - 848 words, the one where harry cheats

You were calm, silent, and patient to see where he would take the conversation. Guilt was not present when you stood face to face in a battle of tranquility that pierced through your heart. His eyes gleamed in concealed smugness while his tongue curled in endless apologies. You knew him too well that he didn’t even stand a chance to hide his true intentions. But to Harry, you were a naive little girl that failed to acknowledge the difference between his acting and the truth.

(s) Drabble #3: Tease - 1.4k, the one where harry teases y/n

Harry plunged two fingers in her hole carefully, biting his lip to suppress the sound he was bound to release from the feeling of her wet walls suffocating his digits. He delivered punctual thrust, making sure to graze her sensitive spot to heighten her arousal. “Harry,”

He stepped back abruptly, pulling his fingers out and creating distance between them. “We have dinner to get to,”

(s) Drabble #4: Dessert - 1.7k, the one where y/n makes dinner but harry wants dessert

His thoughts were always about her no matter how hard he tried not to. And the fact that she took the time out of her day to prepare him something that he will enjoy; well, Harry’s heart just about swelled up to three times the size in his thumping chest.

She pulled away, shaking her head adamantly, “No way! I spent all day cooking and you’re not gonna skip it just to eat my pussy,”

He the corners of his eyes squinted in offence at her description, “Your pussy’s top tier, baby.” Harry ‘tsked’ his tongue, “If yeh didn’t know that already, then I’m doing a horrid job,”

(s) Drabble #5: Mine - 579 words, the one where harry is obsessed with y/ns tits

But he couldn’t exactly do that when all Harry wanted to do was do her. The smooth skin was supported by a navy blue push-up bra; he could tell by the lace mesh that he could see peeking out. It gave Y/N every favour because Harry was trying so hard not to let saliva pool in his mouth and drip out in a line of drool, his eyes widening with each movement she made with her arms, jostling her boobs a little bit here and there.

“Hello? Can you hear me?” Y/N waved her arms to catch his attention. A frown creased her brows as he blinked sluggishly before finding enough coherence to recognize that she was trying to talk to him.

(s) Drabble #6: Early Mornings - 1k, the one where harry thinks y/n is prettiest in the morning

“Get to see ya’ when you’re most beautiful,” Harry tickled his nose on hers, smiling at the way the feature scrunched up as she giggled. He groaned at the contractions her walls gave while her tummy flipped in gentle laughter. “Oi! What’s so funny?” He smushed her face with kisses, pausing his thrust halfway through which had her whining.

Drabble #7: Getaway - 952 words, the one where harry is always cold in the mornings

"Y/N, have you taken my purple bathrobe?"

“No,” Y/N tugged the lavender coloured fabric by the sleeves first. Then, by the lapels draping over her chest, drawing them tighter to block the gust of wind currently caressing Harry’s floppy curls.

Twisting his body, a knowing look overtook Harry’s face as Y/N exited the cabin door. The sheepish smile on his lover’s face granting all the information he needed for this morning’s chilly inception.

There she was, clad in the said purple bathrobe.

Drabble #8: A Little Chilly - 451 words, the one where harry sleeps on the couch

“‘S my bed. Dunno why Lydia can’t jus’ stay on the couch,”

“It’s Y/N!” She wailed, walking closer to the doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Dear, we didn’t know that you were coming home,” Anne tried reasoning with him, not seeing the gravity of the situation as Harry was making it out to be.

Text Messages:

Text Messages #1 - ‘would you love me if I was snail?’

Text Messages #2 - ‘did you know we had a quiz today?’

Text messages #3 - ‘did you steal my hoodie?’

Notes/Behind the Scenes

Notes: Tarnish

Notes: Stressed Out

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #masterlist #hes-writer

69 notes · View notes

crescentsteel · 4 years

Text

Keeping a Secret - Part 3

pairing: Tsukishima x f!manager of Sendai Frogs genre: sexual tension/crack/fluff/slow burn warnings: lots of swear words, tsukki being a a closet softie wc: 7.3k (Ill just stop apologizing for this long chapter updates at this point)

[a/n]

Let me know if you want to be part of the taglist uwu

AO3

Part 2 || Part 4 || masterlist

“Remind me again why are we here.” Tsukishima tells you as soon as he steps foot inside your room.

He scans the room and immediately notices the mess that it is, particularly the top bunk of the bed which he doesn’t doubt must be your share of it.

On the wall on the left side of the room are posters of seascapes and sea animals of different varieties while the desk bolted under it are framed photos of Sendai Frogs. He recognizes them all;, one was taken from the first win of the team on the first year you joined as the manager. The second is a photo of the team at the gym with the new members that year, including Kyoutani who had just recently joined. The last one is a selfie of you on the bus doing a peace sign and winking at the camera while everyone was sleeping.

He kinda feels bad for your roommate now. You’re practically hogging the whole room.

You put down your bag on the floor and shoot him a confused look. “To do our project?”

When you told him to meet in your dorm, he agreed because he thought you meant the common area. After all, he had no reason to think you’d invite him to your room. You two may have disregarded the club incident, tucking it away as a sordid memory from a night of insanity, but that doesn’t mean it is forgotten. However, that doesn’t seem to be the case with you as you appear to genuinely find nothing wrong with the current situation.

You seat yourself at your table, taking out your laptop and notes from the trip last time.

“Go sit, Tsukishima,” you say without even looking at him as you spread out your notes on the table’s surface as your laptop boots up.

“We could’ve just done this in the library, or at least in the lobby,” he says as a matter-of-factly.

“True, but I also don’t see any problem with doing it here,” you answer passively, still occupied with arranging your papers.

He was right. It really does not bother you at all. So, he shouldn’t be bothered with it either. This way, at least, no one would see you and him together. You’re a person he doesn’t want to be associated with hanging around with anyways.

“Do you always invite your groupmates to your room?” He asks out of curiosity since it didn’t seem like anything for you to just invite him in, as if you didn’t care much about your privacy.

“Hmm. Depends,” you answer.

He takes out his own laptop, but still eyes you as he prods further. “On what?”

The curve of your lips tugs up slightly as you sit up straight and lift your gaze away from the notes you took out and finally turn your attention to him.

“I welcome those who won’t get handsy with me.”

“Even if you’re the one who’d get handsy with them?” he boldly counters.

You cock your head to the side with hints of amusement playing across your features, which vexes him. The question was supposed to tear your composure, not entertain you.

“Alright, let’s get the fucking elephant out of the room since it bothers you so much,” you announce with levity.

If you’re going to be honest, the kiss still finds its way to your mind sometimes. You just keep pushing it off so that you won’t get stressed out by it. What you find interesting is that he still keeps shoving that fact that you kissed him as if you wanted to do so.

Well, you literally did kiss him, but it’s not like you sought for it prior to the incident.

It just … happened.

“I’ll come clean, good sir, if you’ll allow me,” you declare sarcastically before setting a more serious tone. “I admit it. It was one hell of a mistake to kiss you. But I didn’t mean to. As ridiculous as it sounds, I really didn’t. It was just one of those stupid, off-the-cuff things people do.”

Your voice takes an accusatory note when you ask, “And why do you sound like I harassed you or something? Hmm? ‘Cause if I remember correctly.”

You cross your arms and look up, pretending to be deep in thought before facing him again with a fraudulent shock. “Oh right!” you exclaim exaggeratedly. “You kissed me back,” you add in almost a sing-song manner.

You put an elbow on the table and rest your cheek on your palm as you hold his glare with a snide grin. “How about that?”

He continues shooting daggers at you but you don’t falter. Quite soon enough, he lets up and returns to the passive, apathetic face he usually wears, which signals your victory for the argument. “Like you said, it was one of those dumb on the spot whims.”

You nod agreeably. “Alright, great. Now that that has been established, let me reassure you. It’s never ever gonna happen again. Ever.”

Your eyes are devoid of any humor while your words drip with firm resolve. Yet, he finds it off that you’re not asking him to do the same given that you both just agreed that you are equally accountable for that imprudent act. He is almost just as guilty.

“Aren’t you going to ask the same from me?”

Your somber expression breaks into a humored one as a laugh rumbles from your throat. You shake your head in comical delight while you look at him. “No, I won’t. Actually...” you drift off as you scoot closer to him until you’re right beside him. “Give it your best shot.”

You close your eyes and tilt your chin up. Did you really just dare him to kiss you? Kiss those stupid lips and have a repeat of that appalling night?

Should he?

He would do it just to erase the smug off your face, just to prove you wrong. But similar to that night, he can’t bring himself to do it. He hates the idea of instigating such a thing.

Even more so now that he’s already had a taste of those lips. Those lips that felt too exquisite that it infuriated him. Those lips that took away his logical thinking. With you offering those lips to him so generously, you make him hate them even more. That pretty face and that playful smile of yours do nothing but add to his fury.

“Can you get your face away from me?”

You peek one eye open before bursting into laughter, making his displeasure towards you skyrocket. Why the fuck is he always your laughing stock?

“See? This is why I don’t mind you coming over, Tsukishima. I bet if I strip naked right now, you’d walk out in a heartbeat.”

His scowl deepens. The mental image of your unclad body is very much unwelcome and unappreciated. “Bring that up again and I really will leave,” he snaps.

Even with your smile intact, your humored expression dissolves a bit and is replaced by a curious guise.

“You know, everyone likes me except you,” you say with no shred of diffidence.

You really are full of yourself. You might be ‘likeable’ for a lot of people, but that doesn’t mean every single person you meet actually likes you. He’s certain there are people who you rub off the wrong way -- people like him.

“Isn’t that a bit too conceited, even for you?”

You shrug your shoulders indifferently. “Maybe so. But you’re the only person who shoves your blatant dislike on my face.”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it for the past three years,” he replies as he flips his laptop open and boots it up so he can turn his attention somewhere other than you.

“I didn’t need to work with you like this for the past three years.”

He doesn’t know where you’re going with the conversation so he doesn’t respond anymore. He’s certain you know why he finds you a pain in the neck. You constantly get on his grill with every opportunity you get. Maybe if you didn’t, he could actually tolerate your topsy turvy persona. But it’s as if it’s your personal mission to aggravate him.

“I’m putting the deal I offered during the trip,” you announce.

“What deal?” he asks as he starts typing bullet points of what should be done today so he can go home already.

“Forget I’m the annoying manager when it’s just us two. And I won’t deliberately piss you off.”

He types the last bullet point before returning his attention on you. “Then what? I suddenly become nice to you?”

“Hell no! I’m not asking for a fucking miracle. It’s not like you’re ever nice to anybody. Geez!” you explain derisively. “I just want us to have a conversation where you’re not giving me death glares.”

You give him a smile, one that lacks your usual haughtiness. Still, he can’t tell if you’re being serious or if you’ll actually manage to hold the deal you’re proposing. Truth be told, he wants it. He can’t handle you being your usual if you two have to meet beyond training hours and, even worse, in private.

If this keeps up, he might end up cursing this subject by the end of the semester, which would be a waste because likes this subject way too much for you to taint it with your idiocy.

“Deliver your end of the bargain. Then you’ll have mine.”

Your eyes twinkle with glee at his semi-approval. “We have a deal then.”

You go back to where you’re seated a while ago and proceed to start discussing at hand.

With the start of the game season, training has become more intense. Coach Mira had the team work on the weak points she identified with the help of the data you tallied from last season’s games.

“Kyoutani! Do not lower those arms just yet. Keep those elbows up when you block,” Coach yells at him, as Kogane spiked from the other side of the court.

She looks over at the other players practicing their jump serves. She furrows her brows at something. Following her line of sight, you see that it falls on Tsukishima.

On his next serve, the ball spins ferociously but is of low height that it hits the middle of the night.

“Y/n,” Coach calls out. She didn’t have to say anything else as she cocks her head to Tsukishima’s direction with a telling expression on her face. She’s asking you to handle him, and you know exactly why.

Before he can toss the ball for another jump serve, you yell out merrily which you know will definitely catch his ears, “ Tsukki!! ” and jog to where he is. His blank expression turns into a scowl when you reach him.

“Can you stop calling me that?”

“You’re so mean. Aren’t we close enough for me to call you ‘ Tsukki ’?.” You ask with a dramatic pout and exaggerated false woes that he visibly cringes after hearing it.

He doesn’t respond to your pretentious act. “Why are you here?”

You instantly lose the cheeky act and get to what Coach Mira wants to let him know. You’re just going to twist the words a bit to his ‘liking.’

This is the problem you noticed with Tsukishima, one worse than his rotten way of interacting with the team. He can be incredibly unmotivated at times, and when he is, he only gives the bare minimum amount of effort.

It’s the one thing you can say you truly dislike about him because he’s a professional athlete for crying out loud. It doesn’t matter if he’s unmotivated, uninspired, or doesn’t feel like trying. He should be disciplined enough to push himself to put as much work as he usually does when training.

“You’re not going to get those serves in with that half-assed attitude of yours,” you say sternly while you eye him with a threatening stare.

His face scrunches in utter displeasure. He’s well aware that he’s not feeling his best today and he’d rather do blocking drills for the whole raining than do ten consecutive jump serves.

“Since enthusiasm is the answer to everything else, why don’t you try it?” He bites back, which you obviously weren’t expecting. He’s always irritated when you point out his mistakes, but thus far he has always stayed silent.

Maybe the amount of time you’re spending together outside the gymnasium has made him reach the limit of his patience… which isn’t even a lot to begin with.

“Are you serious?” you ask incredulously.

Of course he wasn’t. You might have some sort of experience with volleyball (although he doesn’t know to which extent), but jump serves are difficult. The coordination of the toss and the run up to hit it at the right angle is aggravatingly hard to pull off, especially for him since jump serves need tons of practice.

He detests the practice for it; he needs to run, jump, and swing his arm over and over. It is boring and tiring for him because it is purely based on physical prowess, compared to practicing blocking where he’s actually thinking.

He thought you’d leave him alone when you stepped away. Instead, you come back with a ball in your hand. You dribble it off the floor with unbendable focus as if you’re trying to recall something.

“Are you serious?” he’s the one who asks this time. He was just fucking around. He didn’t expect you’d actually respond to his provocation.

“Yep,” you answer with your full concentration on the ball in your hand as you spin it vertically. Some of the players notice what you’re up to and briefly stop what they’re doing to watch.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You bat them open with burning determination before you toss the ball.

Instead of watching the ball, he watches your form. There’s no trace of awkwardness in your movements, almost like you’ve done this frequently before. The three-step approach is nearly perfect as you propel yourself up to jump.

The sharp sound of the ball hitting your hand causes the rest of the gym to look at you. The ball spins ferociously at a height he’s not sure is sufficient to get over the other side of the court. He wishes it won’t. That would be the second worst thing you could ever do to him, the first one being that certain occurrence he’d rather not think about again.

You falter on your feet when you descend from your leap but you immediately look up to see if your serve makes it. Everyone else, including him, is on the edge as they watch whether the ball will get in or not.

It roughly scrapes the edge of the net, effectively thwarting its velocity. Still, it bounces off and lands inside the opposing court, causing the rest of the team to cheer you on as the ball hits the floor.

You seem to forget for a short while that you did it to spite him as your face beams with inexplicable joy while his contorts with ire.

Even if the momentum of the ball was broken, you still managed to get it over - the one thing he hadn’t been able to do from his last eight attempts. Meanwhile, you did it on your first.

You definitely had a lot of experience in high school. No beginner can manage to do a jump serve like that, even if it was flawed.

‘Shit,’ he silently curses when you face him with a cocky grin disguised as a pleasant one.

“Who knew that my experience being an outside hitter and captain of my high school team would still be useful as your manager?” you ask as you slowly walk towards him.

He doesn’ expect that your knowledge about the sport came from first-hand experience. He thought you’re manager of another team previously or just a crazy volleyball enthusiast.

You pick up another ball and softly push it against his rib as you look up to him with contempt. “Don’t tell me I can do better than you,” you spur him on with squinted eyes.

He snatches the ball away from your hands and steps back from the serving line. He spins the ball one time and tosses it high. Instead of a three-step approach, he makes it a four to increase his vertical jump. He tosses it high enough and channels all his rage for you at the ball.

With how high he jumped, the ball easily goes over the net. Its trajectory curves when it crosses over and hits a spot a little bit just beyond the end line.

He clenches his fist at his another failed attempt despite exerting more than necessary effort for that shot. He avoids looking at you for he’d be put in an even worse mood if sees that taunting grin of yours.

But of course you had to make yourself seen and intentionally go in front of him with an impressed look in your face instead of a condescending one.

“That was great! Holy shit. It was just a smidge out. Wow.” You applaud him earnestly, and as much as he despises it, it makes him a little less bad about that missed shot.

“Can you leave me alone now?” He drives you away to fend off the stupid feeling. He’d rather you just walk away and don’t say anything. “Not like that serve mattered,” he mutters in annoyance.

“What are you talking about? It was awesome!” you yell out with your eyes shining with flagrant admiration, which annoyingly strokes his ego.

“Just a bit less and it would have been in a spot difficult to return,” you remark as you pat his shoulders approvingly before heeding his request to leave and go back to where Coach is.

“Sorry, Coach. I distracted everyone else,” you scratch your head with an apologetic smile when you return.

“I’d tell you off, but everyone seems more motivated now, so good work I guess,” she commends you with a satisfactory tone.

“He looks really pissed though,” Coach Mira adds as she glances at the blonde middle blocker.

“More than you know, Coach,” you reply with a wide smile as he serves another ball and gets it in this time.

Prior to your meeting with Tsukishima today, you proposed to finish the project as soon as possible so you can both focus on other other uni subjects on top of training hours. He immediately agreed, which didn’t surprise you because even though it’s not game season, you’re pretty sure he can’t wait to stop having to see you.

The project’s deadline is in three months, but you believe you can finish it in less than two if you meet up at least twice a week to work on it.

It should be okay, given that you both agreed to have a truce of some sort from the usual dynamic of your relationship. You actually think that it’s not going to work out smoothly, but you still suggested it with the hopes of decreasing his animosity towards you. Yes, it’s fun and amusing most of the time, but outside the gym where you’re just a classmate and not his manager, it’s kinda draining to deal with it.

“Won’t your roommate mind if there’s a stranger in your room?” he asks as he sits down and rummages through his bag.

“Oh.” You thought he already figured it out because he didn’t ask about it on his first visit. “Didn’t I tell you before? I don’t have a roommate.”

His eyes immediately go to your bunk bed that you didn’t bother getting replaced because it’s convenient when you’re too tired. You usually just mindlessly throw your stuff at the top bunk for a later clean-up.

“Wanted the whole room to myself,” you add.

“Spoiled, little rich brat, aren’t you?” He really doesn’t have much basis for his statement. He just wants to say something nasty and sneer at you because he wants to get back at how you called him out during training the other day.

When he meets your gaze, you raise an eyebrow at him, reminding him about your agreement while working on the project. He purses his lips to the side and returns to his passive expression without saying anything. You roll your eyes in response.

“Well if being a scholar while working as your manager is being a spoiled rich brat, then by all means. Do consider me one,” you answer before looking back on your screen.

He would have never thought you were a university scholar. You don’t look like the type. You’re way too carefree and all over the place. He would’ve thought it was a joke, if not for the tiny offended glint he caught when he said you’re a spoiled brat.

That’s exactly the reaction he wants to get from you, yet it didn’t feel satisfactory. On the contrary, it’s making him feel like a prick. He is being one, but he doesn’t expect to feel like one, especially towards you who does nothing but get on his skin.

Still, hell would freeze over before he apologizes. Instead, he prods on the topic.

“Why would you even work as a manager if you’re already a scholar?”

It doesn’t make sense to him. You don’t need the work if your university fees are already waived. It will just pile on to the academic requirements you will need to maintain.

Your hand stops scrolling on your mouse as your eyes soften, still remaining on your laptop. “Cause I love it,” you utter like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

The look in your eyes is instantly replaced by mockery when you lift them to meet his.

“Someone’s being inquisitive today.”

He gets his headphones out and plugs it to his laptop. He really is curious why you chose you to be their manager, but you just had to be an obnoxious bitch and break the agreement you offered to him just the other day.

He knows you’re too much of a chaos to actually pull it off, so instead of wasting his energy by being irritated by you for the day, he’d rather pretend you’re not there.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” you say loudly with a wide smile, yet he can see the sincerity of the apology through the slight panic in your orbs. You must have realized he’s had enough of your shit. “My bad. Old habits hard.” You laugh nervously.

You speak again when he puts down his headphones on the table. “I may have quit the sport, but I still love it. I love taking care of players like you guys who have the same passion for it.”

“Doesn’t seem like it’s worth it,” he comments with unheld honesty. You could have a lot of time off of your hands if you quit being their manager. You don’t even need the job.

You plant your hands on the floor and lean back as your gaze drifts to the photos of the team displayed on your desk.

“You might be right. A marine science student dedicating her time on sports even though she’s not an athlete? It does sound impractical. But,” you revert your eyes back to him as you continue on, “it makes me happy. That alone makes it worth it. Even if I don’t get paid, I’d still do it.”

Your face glows with pride and joy with your last statement, completely undeterred by his earlier cynicism. If anything, you look even more convinced that you’re doing the right thing.

He can’t tell if he finds it admirable or disturbing. Probably the latter.

“There’s more to life than just sleep, study, and survive, don’t you think?”

It was a rhetorical question that he would’ve still refuted if someone told him that years ago. Back in his freshman year in high school, he thought overzealous passion was stupid. Unless an individual is some sort of prodigy, it wouldn’t get them anywhere even if they keep trying to death.

Still, he put in a lot of work -- more than he should -- when he was playing in Karasuno. What was just a club became entirely something else for him, which, up until now, he still hasn’t put quite a finger on.

When he graduated from Karasuno, he wasn’t sure what to do. He wanted to continue playing, but there was a nagging feeling behind his head that he shouldn’t. He thought that that part of his life was already over and while it was good while it lasted, it was time to move one.

Yet, when he was handed out an application form for the university’s college team, he found himself grabbing the sheet of paper.

He didn’t have any reason to pursue it beyond high school. He knows he’s good, but he’s not that good. He was at university already. It was time to focus on his future and ignore the itch to hold the ball with five other players on his side of the court.

What’s even more absurd was the next day, he submitted the application form and tried out for the team. He said to himself it wouldn’t hurt to go on playing until he has finally had enough. He’d just ride it out until he got tired of it.

In his sophomore year, he was scouted by Sendai Frogs and that’s when he knew that the unreasonable passion he has for volleyball is not going to go away. Even now in his graduating semester, he’s still not ready to give it up.

He won’t admit it in your face, but, in a way, he can agree with what you just said. Life is more than just getting by and surviving. That’s the only reason he can think of to justify his choice to continue volleyball: so that he wouldn’t have this constant dissonance that pursuing the sport is a vacuous path he’s treading on.

“Anyways, back to work now, yeah?”

You smile briefly at him and return to the research you’re tasked to do. He puts his headphones back in his bag and gets back to his own task as well.

He thought all is well and you won’t pester him until you both finish what you’re supposed to accomplish for the day. Unfortunately, he thought wrong.

You suddenly close your laptop and start whining.

“Tsukki.”

As usual, he does his best to not acknowledge your existence.

“Tsukkiii, ” you whine louder.

For the love of God, you sound the most annoying when you use his nickname. Even though you’ve used it several times now, he’s still not used to it. In fact, he does not believe he will ever get used to it. Shimizu and Yachi not even once called him that, and they were more respectable managers than you are. Sort of. It doesn’t matter that you’re more active and hands on when managing the team.

“Tsuuuk -”

“What?!” You successfully manage to get his eyes off the screen.

“I’m bored,” you pout.

He glares at you unbelievably. What are you, a five-year-old?

“And that is my problem, how?” he asks with disdain.

“Aren’t you getting tired?” you ask back, unfazed by his blatant irritation. But then again, you never are.

He is getting tired too, but he’d rather drag his brains and eyes out than rest and extend the time he’s going to spend with you.

“Let’s take a break, please, ” you cry out with pleading eyes.

“I don’t care what you do. Just leave me out of it.” He puts his attention back on his laptop and looks for the journal article he found significant among the other tabs he opened.

“I’ll feel guilty if I see you still at it while I goof around,” you admit.

He really couldn’t care any less. None of what you’re blabbering about is any of his concern. If you keep at it, he’ll just take out his headphones again to drown out your childish whining.

“I know!” You suddenly perk up. “Let’s review for our quiz,” you suggest eagerly. “We have one tomorrow, right?”

He almost smirks at your suggestion, but he manages to suppress it. He’d rather not let you see that he’s pleasantly amused with your suggestion.

He didn’t expect that that was your idea of taking a break. He thought you were going to propose something completely absurd like watch stupid videos online because that’s something he could totally see you doing on your free time.

But yeah, he can definitely use a review. It would be a productive break from the strenuous researching and writing you two have been doing.

Even though he still hasn’t verbally agreed, you continue on. “To make it interesting, there’s a penalty for every wrong answer.”

He sits up straight, pushing his glasses closer to his face as you successfully gain his full attention. “What penalty?”

Your smile widens when you realize that he’s finally acknowledging your idea of taking a break.

“Okay, okay.” You rub your hands together in excitement before you clasp them together. “For every wrong answer you get, you need to say something nice about me. And of course vice versa.”

He scowls at the idea. “I prefer the opposite. Get the answer wrong and you get insulted. That sounds more of a punishment.”

You shake your head with your lips pressed into a thin line from disapproval. “Nope. If I get even one wrong answer. I’m sure you’ll get into a litany of rude shit you piled up against me over the years. And I’ll just sit here uncaringly receiving your fury. Does that excite you?”

Hell no. It will infuriate him even more if he throws something at you and you just take it apathetically. But he still doesn’t agree with your initial mechanics. It’s not fair to him.

“No, it doesn’t. But the consequence of a wrong answer is too easy for you.”

You place a palm on your chest and gape at him. “Me? Too easy for me ?”

You break into a boisterous laugh while still maintaining eye contact with him. He just stares back at you stupefied with no idea what you found so hilarious.

“Tsukishima,” you say after recovering from your disparaging hoots of laughter. “I can think of literally one nice thing about you. Maybe two if I tried hard enough,” you explain with your face still crinkled with the laughter you’re trying hard to contain.

If you’re trying to provok him to take on your challenge, you definitely succeeding. “Fine,” he hisses.

Your laughter is completely thwarted when your eyes widen with delight as he succumbs to your plan.

“Great! Okay, two more rules. One, objective questions only. Two, we can’t say anything that involves Volleyball. For example, you can’t tell me that I’m a great manager, because I’m very much aware of that already, okay?”

His frown only deepens from your conceitedness, only to realize that that’s the only aspect of you he’d consider complimenting you about.

“But there is nothing else nice about you other than that,” he says without any trace of sarcasm or ridicule, only stating what he considers the truth.

But you don’t take any offense in his statement. You’re expecting as much. That’s why you added two more rules to push the both of you to take the review seriously.

“Better not get anything wrong then,” you counter easily because it’s as simple as that. It’s a review just for a quiz after all. He shouldn’t be that worried.

“Thirty minutes to review. Then let’s start the quiz?”

You take that he’s fine with it since he closes his laptop and gets his set of notes from his bag.

You get your phone and set a thirty minute timer. You do just as he does and focus on your own notes, skimming over the last two chapters covered during lectures. You concentrate on your learning materials but the alarm sets off after what seemed like ten minutes to you.

You frantically check your phone to see if you put the wrong time, but you didn’t. Thirty minute have indeed passed.

When you glance at Tsukishima, he’s already looking at you with crossed arms and a self-satisfied smirk. He must have finished before the timer went off. He wouldn’t have that smug expression if not.

Even though you haven’t fully gone over the last parts of the lesson covered, you can’t help but be enlivened at how competitive he is. He must really hate losing.

You notice it too with the way he plays volleyball. He might look calm on the surface, but you know he wants to crush his opponents. And right now, that opponent is you.

His muted excitement affects you. Even though you’re not totally prepared, you’re confident with your own wits.

“Ladies first, so go ahead, Tsukishima.”

He clicks his tongue, his usual habit when he’s irked with something, but this one was forced to make it appear as if he didn’t like what you said. But you can tell that he doesn’t give a shit about that and he actually can’t wait to ask away just to so you can get it wrong.

Unfortunately for him though, you two are just exchanging questions when your mini game starts. He answers your questions without hesitation and you do just the same since most of his questions are in your own list that’s supposed to be for him.

“What’s the movable membrane found on the eyes of amphibians?” It’s his sixth question that has you racking your brain for the correct answer. When you don’t respond immediately, he sniggers like he’s already won.

But you do know the answer, or at least the first letter of it. It's the letter N. N-something membrane.

“Nictaling membrane,” you answer unsurely.

The spread of his wicked smile immediately tells you you’re wrong. “It’s nictating,” he corrects you.

“Oh come on! I’m just one letter off,” you strongly reason out.

“Yeah, and that would still be marked wrong in the actual quiz,” he refutes.

Damn it. He’s right. That one letter makes a whole lot of difference your professor will definitely not let go.

He places one elbow on the table and rests his chin at the back of his hand, keeping his eyes trained on you as he silently anticipates for you to pay the price of your penalty.

You bite your lip disquietly when you realize the rule you set was a double-edged sword for you can’t also think of anything nice to say about him. There’s that terrible attitude of his which is usually your source of fun, but not exactly something you can call nice.

You have something in your mind, but your pride won’t let you voice it out.

He starts tapping the table with his fingers. “You’re wasting both our time, y/n.”

You accept your defeat and tell him anyway. “Fine. I think you’re smarter than me,” you confess.

You expect him to agree unanimously, but instead he looks at you stupefied, blinking a few times without saying anything.

“But you’re a scholar,” he remarks. You’re not sure if he just disagreed with you or he’s just putting that fact out in the open.

“Well, yeah. But I’m just really good at studying and have good time management. You’re actually smart. You’re critical with stuff,” you explain.

You cheated a bit with your answer since most of your basis is from volleyball games. Although your trip last time is also proof of that. He provided really good input on how you should go about with the project.

“Okay! Moving on,” you proceed before he can comment further on what you just said and milk it to his benefit.

You ask another question, which he also knows that correct answer to. Originally, you just wanted a fun but effective way of reviewing, but now you kind of want him to get at least one question wrong so you can get even.

“What do you call the structure the lower vertebrae of anurans is fused into?” he asks another difficult question.

You rub your palms on your face, your frustration clouding your mind from recalling what it could possibly be. You push your hair back and sigh when you realize that you’re not getting this one either.

“I don’t know,” you surrender.

His current expression is the most lively one you’ve ever seen from him outside volleyball games, but it isn't a pleasant one. He looks like a villain whose evil master plan is coming to fruition.

Maybe you should’ve just agreed with his earlier suggestion to get insulted when you get it incorrectly. You would’ve just sit it out and brush it off afterwards, not make your brain hurt even more from thinking about non-existent good traits from the guy across your table.

You look around as you desperately try to think of something remotely nice about him.

“Oh,” your eyes meet his right the moment you recall that instance, and form a genuine smile as you remember it once more.

“It was real nice of you to let me lean on you on the way back to Miyagi last week.”

He removes his elbow from the table and fixes his posture, losing the lax and confident aura he had two questions ago.

“You would have woken up face down on the bus floor if I didn’t,” he says defensively as if what he did needs that explanation for it to be acceptable.

You honestly thought he’d rather let you fall flat on the floor. You’re about to ask him back then if he was sure, but you just accepted his angry, yet generous offer which you didn’t expect to come from him.

“I know. I just didn’t think you’d let me rest on your shoulder, so thanks,” you say earnestly, not a trace of your usual cheekiness present.

“It felt nice and comfortable” you add reservedly. You’ve been wanting to thank him but you didn’t know how to bring it up without being awkward for you’re only used to dealing with grouchy Tsukishima.

It’s only then you realize that despite his palpable dislike towards you, he’s not a complete asshole and still cared enough for your welfare that time.

He remains expressionless with his eyes drifting down to his notes, avoiding your gaze as he does so. “The answer is coccyx, also called urostyle,” he ushers back to the question you got wrong, dismissing what you just divulged, which you’re thankful for because you feel like fidgeting with what just dawned on you.

“My turn again then!” you said too loudly as you try to shake off the feeling and put your focus back on the review.

You read the only item left in your list, still hoping that he gets it wrong since this is the last.

“What part of the amphibian nervous system regulates heart and respiratory rates?”

Unlike previous questions, he doesn’t answer off the bat this time.

“You’re wasting both our time, Tsukishima,” you repeat what he said to you earlier even though it's only been seconds after you uttered your question.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I know the answer,” he declares with reassured confidence. “It’s the cerebrum.”

You decide to hold his gaze for two second before you burst his bubble. “Fucking finally!” you rejoice in his defeat.

“Close enough, Tsukishima. It’s the cerebellum,” you announce all too cheerfully.

He hurriedly gets his notes and cross checks if you’re actually telling the truth. You just watch him scramble with a very pleased smile on your face as he goes rigid.

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself. He must have seen that you were telling the truth.

You start squirming in your seat. Oh man, you’re way too excited to hear what he has to say about you. You want to egg him on, to tell him to hurry up but that might affect what he’s going to say so you force yourself to shut up.

He raises his gaze at you while you make sure you’re not smiling too wide to annoy him even though you’re reeling from anticipation.

He still doesn’t say anything, but you know he’s thinking based on the way he’s studying your face.

“You have a slightly above average face.”

You run that by again in your head, not understanding what he meant by it at first.

Above average face? Did he just say you’re pretty if translated from a socially incapacitated person’s language? Is that why he was staring so hard at you?

Of all the things he could choose to say something about, he decides to compliment your appearance? You know that you're a bit good-looking, but you don’t think he notices it. He doesn’t seem to be the type to care about that stuff.

Even when you first met, he just looked at you with a vacant expression and greeted you blandly out of courtesy while the rest of the team ogled at you. His apathetic eyes eventually turned scornful over time because of how often you pick on him, and despite that, he does acknowledge that you are pretty.

You’re used to being showered with admiration because of your face so you’ve developed a natural response to it: a gleeful smile with a spritely ‘aww, thanks!’

But with Tsukishima, it doesn’t kick in. Instead, you avert your gaze away from the unwanted fluttering in your chest. You can’t even look him in the eye as you try to collect yourself and think how you’ll respond to that without looking flustered.

What the heck is wrong with you? That could hardly be called a compliment. Now that you think about it, it actually sounded sort of like a product review with its lack of any fondness.

With that in mind, you manage to regain some of your composure and offer him a faint. “Um, thanks.”

Tsukishima looks at his two remaining questions he listed and even though he’s winning the game, he doesn’t feel victorious at all. Your confessions did nothing to make him feel good about himself. They were too sincere that they made him uneasy.

He also doesn’t like that he had to admit you’re pretty. He expected you’re gonna make a fuss about it. He actually would’ve preferred that than you being uncharacteristically embarrassed about it.

Something weird is definitely going on. You’re not acting like yourself and neither is he. There had been too many opportunities to badger you, but he just let them pass by. Same with you. You could have easily teased him about letting you know he finds you attractive.

“I’m out of questions,” he lies to end the damn review.

“Me too, actually,” you say with an apprehensive laugh.

So it’s not just him. You also feel the change in the atmosphere between you two. Your smile is uncertain and you look like you don't know what to do to remedy the situation -- that is, if you even know what’s wrong with it because he sure as hell doesn’t.

But even if he has no idea what’s going on, fortunately, he knows how to end it.

“I’m tired. I’m calling it a day,” he says as he starts packing up his stuff.

You seem to agree since you don’t say anything and just watch him collect his things. You only react when he stands up.

“Oh yeah. Sure!” You stand up as well.

“I can see my way out on my own,” he stops you when you start to head for the door.

You freeze on the spot then nod timidly. “Okay.”

As soon as he steps out and closes the door, you plop yourself back to where you were sitting. You grasp the edges of your table as you softly bang your head against it, gasping a heavy breath of relief when the air becomes undoubtedly lighter after he is gone.

“What the fuck was that?” you mumble with your cheek against the wooden surface.

Part 2 || Part 4 || masterlist

taglist (those crossed out can’t be tagged)

@ameliaxo @suikrem @akaashisslave @tsumurai @babythotshq @loving-unicorns106 @flairlust @geektastic84 @anaiss97 @berna-dette @just4readingfics @suteorra @xxekitten69xx @simp4tsukkii @music-is-all-i-need @keshinslittlegirl @raspberrysunshinebby @iminlovewhaikyuu @pdiddy11 @lightyagamami @sailorscout1902 @lovershaikyuu @expectonothinfromme @mitzuya @yamigoop

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima smut #tsukishima angst #haikyuu x reader #tags pls work

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secondhand-trash · 4 years

Text

Sealed

Kinktober 2020 — wax play

A/N: whoop I actually tried to do research for once

Pairing: Tendou Satori x f!reader

Description: Tendou was always certain that you were flawless, but perhaps you could use a few splotches of red for him to seal his devotion onto you.

Warning: wax play, sensory deprivation, bondage, dacryphilia (I finally learnt that there is a word for it), choking, vaginal penetration, slight reference of possessiveness

Word count: 2235

All were red as Tendou stood at the foot of the bed, his eyes curling into two thin strands as he drank in the view. The satin sheets that dent under your weight, the strip of ribbon covering your eyes, the marks on your wrist from the friction of the rope that tied you to his headboard, the candle in his hand, and the matches that he was toying with between his nimble fingers.

Thrill sparked through his body from your defenseless state. He could do anything he wanted to you and you would let him.

He couldn’t find a hint of imperfection on your body as you laid there, completely naked and exposed to his sharp gaze. Your skin glistened under the dim light from the baby oil he spent hours leathering you in. He had taken the time to run his finger around each swell of your body, getting you all worked up and skin warm for him before he even cut to the real fun.

You were flawless in his eyes and there was nothing he would want to alter perfection, except for a few more splotches of red to your skin to show his claim.

Your chest rising and falling to the rhythm of your breaths that you carefully controlled. Your senses were heightened with the soft fabric that blocked your sight. Each drag of his heel against the floor had goosebumps raising on your skin in anticipation, your back arching up as he ghosted the tip of his finger down from your neck to the valley of your breast, then lightly pulled away as he danced it across your naval.

“Satori...” you whimpered, his touch still phantoming on your skin.

The blood in his system boiled as you weakly shifted around the bed, pulling against the restraints on your wrists. Was he sick for being so excited at the hoarseness in your voice? Or for wanting to taint your body with red marks and stimulated tears down your face?

Your breath hitched when you heard a sharp scratch of a match against the cartoon. Tendou darted his tongue out and wet his bottom lip as the flame flickered, twirling shadows danced across the wall behind him as he lighted the candle in hand. He watched as the flame sparked like he was doing the holiest task.

You gulped, knowing that it was to come at any moment but not able to predict when. You felt like you had waited for so long when you heard a soft coo as he stared at the wax at the very middle slowly melt until it slid off the side as a bead of red, rolling down and down and down...

“Ah-!”

The surprised squeal you let out tingled on his scalp, the dull ache between his legs getting all the more obvious but he could divert his attention just yet, not when you just made the sweetest sound. The droplet of wax landed on your stomach, already cooling down moments after it touched you with how high up he was holding the candle before letting it fell on you.

The sharp pain pulsed through your system, making you clench your eyes tight from reflex underneath the blinds. Your legs tensed up and you could feel wetness gushing out of you from the burn on your skin.

If he was sick for wanting to see you cry, then you were just as bad with how aroused you got from the very first streak of red that painted across you.

The mattress dent around you and you felt the side of his knees rubbing against your legs. He had now kneeled on top of you, looking down directly to get a better view of each twitch and shiver of your body.

The next drop of wax fell down onto the swell of your breast, just far away from your nipple enough for the pain to be bearable but close enough that the sensitive bud perked up even more. You whimpered as he rolled it between his fingers, squeezing and flicking to coax you down from the burn of the wax. Your legs were shaking, the reflex to kick around suppressed by his weight pressing you down.

“I wish you can see yourself,” he said with a sing-song voice, tilting the red stick in his hand as his tongue curled. The tip of his tongue was pressed against the back of his teeth as his hand hovered above you.

Your voice came out as a string of hiss and moans when you felt the wax drizzled down on you. It started off as drops after drops down the center your torso until you felt him pushing the half cooled wax around. The calloused pad of his finger brushing past where you just came in contact with the wax had your back arching against his touch.

“Hmph-” your head threw back as the sensation slowly had your mind melted into the blotches of wax that was on you, “Sa- satori!”

He felt an overwhelming rush of adrenaline as you writhed underneath him but still panted his name out with such pleading. You mewled when the next contact of heat on your body led to a sequence of stimulation on different parts of your body.

One drop right above your navel, a dribble on your thigh that glided down to your calf, another pour right under your tits which he then spread around with his thumb.

“Such a pretty little thing,” he cooed, his cock all hard with each cry and whimper you let out as he poured the wax down on you seeping into the back of his head. Your walls clenched around nothing as the wax slowly solidify on your skin, the tension and hardness a sharp contrast to the numbing pain it replaced.

Your lips were parted, trembling as nothing but erotic noises were being ripped out from the back of your throat. Your cunt clenched around nothing as you experienced the aftershock of the heat and pain, the clear essence of your arousal coating your folds as you waited for his next movement with bated breath.

Tendou put the candle to the side to free out his hand. He traced his finger along your jaw, his thumb rubbing against the tears that glided across your face horizontally and rolling down the line of your neck. You could taste the saltiness of your stimulated tears in your mouth and the ribbon on your face felt sticky with the tears it soaked up.

You blinked when the piece of ribbon was lifted from your eye, blinking a few times to see past the blur.

Tendou watched in awe as your eyelids fluttered, the droplets tainting onto your lashes as you looked at him with blown out eyes. Each blink had the tears that were pooling at the corner of your eyes threatening to leak out, and the trail down your chin was now so much clearer without the makeshift blindfold in the way.

You tilted your head back when he leaned down, collecting the droplet that was rolling down your face. He groaned at the taste and the soft gasp that you made when his tongue came in contact with your skin. He could feel his cock pulsing, the heat in his body like he was the one being lit on fire. His lips trailed down, pecking each and every spot where there was wax hardened up on you. The moisture of his warm breath against the wax and where your skin touched the solid had every hair on your body standing up. He darted his tongue out to run across the patterns on you, going lower and lower until he was hovering just above your cunt.

You shuddered when he placed a chaste kiss on your clit, before pulling away completely.

A sharp cry was ripped out of your throat when he bottomed out in you with a sudden hilt, burying his cock inside you completely. You slammed your head back against the mattress as your eyes shut tight, the arch of your body pulled at the muscle on your arms that connected to your back as the rope tugged at your wrist.

He let out a loud moan at the feeling of your warm cunt sucked him in with each thrust, the loud squelching of the wetness that allowed his length to drill into you at a vigorous strength had his skin tingling. Your skin was slippery under his touch with the oil you were covered in and he dug his fingers into the plush flesh of your hips in order to get better leverage.

Your hand clawed and pulled at the rope above your head, your fingers curling from the intense pleasure from his relentless thrusts but unable to hold onto anything else. His name rolled off your tongue like a mantra, the feeling of his nails on your skin and his cock pivoting deep inside you again and again being the only thing you could focus on. He only got faster and faster as your pleas got more incoherent and your moans got louder, his lips curling up as he threw his head back as he abused your clenching walls.

The knot in your core tightened when he brought his hand up and wrapped it around your throat, pressing his long digits down just enough as he forcefully tilt your head up.

“Open your eyes,” he said with a breathy chuckle, his chirpy tone a huge contrast to his rough handling on your body, “let me see those pretty eyes.”

You fought to open your eyes, seeing white at the corner of your eye from the slight dizziness in your head mixed with the numbing shocks that spread from the pit of your stomach all over your system. He was grinning ear to ear as he looked at your glassy orbs, the expression deep within making him all the more ecstatic.

“How did I get so lucky to have such a pretty little fuck hole...” he sang. His other hand slid up from the root of your thigh, running over all the little bumps and pieces of wax on your body. These would leave such a nice mark even after he cleaned you up. He licked his lips, taking note of the way you clamped down on him when he flicked against the wax beads on your stomach.

“P- please!” you stuttered, looking into his eyes and hoping that he would give in to your teary beg.

“Urgh, you know I can’t stand it when you do that,” he groaned, the hand that was on your body just earlier now holding onto your thigh to hold it back. He hummed at the new angle, loving the sound of his balls slapping against your ass with each snap of his pelvis, “hmph- cum for me. Cum all over my cock. There you go... Yeah, that’s it, let me see you cry from having your brains fucked out...”

You whimpered when he tightened his grip around your neck, your moans came out as broken sobs as the shocks of your release pulsed through you.

A loud gasp filled his ear when he let go of you, watching as you panted underneath him. His squeal came out like a laugh as he rested his hand right next to your face, staring at the prints that were left on your cheeks from the tears that fell down. You shuddered under his touch when he wiped them away from your face before bringing his hand to his lips, darting his tongue out to lick them clean.

Tendou was certain that this was what euphoria felt like.

The note of his voice was broken as his thrusts got sloppier, taking advantage of how your sensitive walls were still contracting around him post-orgasm to chase his own high. He pulled out of you right when he was about to cum, his head thrown back with a loud moan as ropes of his release painted across your stomach.

“Good girl,” he said with a shaky coo, not even caring about getting the mess on him as he leaned down to give you a soft kiss on the lips.

You were a shuddering mess underneath him. He could not help but let out a satisfied hum when he stared at the wild patterns of red wax on your body and the splatters of white on top that was slowly dripping down your waist. Your own juices were soaked onto the sheets beneath you, the shiny liquid still visible on your legs.

And your face.

Oh, don’t even get him started on your face, with the most fucked out expression and tracks of tears running down.

“Satori...” you whimpered when he spread his cum around on your stomach, scooping some up on the tip of his finger before curling his tongue around it.

He pressed a reassuring kiss on your collarbone, “Sh, I’ll clean you up in a second...”

But for now, he wanted to burn the sight of you covered in wax and his cum at the back of his head. Fuck, he shook his head at the thoughts that roused up in his mind, he was starting to feel the itching again just from looking at you.

You were all his, and he now had the seals to prove it.

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #tendou x reader #tendou imagine #tendou imagines #tendou smut #kinktober 2020

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