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ninguitar · 1 day ago

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꣑ৎ　────　𝓟OP THE HOOD , DA 　　　　　lovin' you long takes the pain away 𓈒𓈒

───﹙⚙️﹚𝓢. ｡｡　a trip to the froyo shop ends up leaving daniela with a broken-down car, but hey—at least she got a pretty girl to fix it!

𝓹airing. daniela avanzini x mechanic!f!r 𝓰enre. fluff wc. 1.9k notes. haiaiaiaiia idk anyt abt cars so take everything that is said abt cars w/ a grain of salt 😛 also thinking ab a part2 but idk !! lmk how yall feel or wtv (MASTERLIST)

now playing ⋆ ballad of a badman by tory lanez

MAYBE IT WAS DUMB LUCK.

daniela just wanted to get froyo on her way home; it shouldn't have to be such a big deal, and it sure didn't need to turn into a shit-show. her mustang was starting fine at first—jamming her keys into the ignition, a grin adorning her face as the engine roared lively. she drove safely, but not even an hour later, she stood at the side of the road, smoke coming out the cabin, and her eyebrows knitted together.

though, maybe her luck wasn't so bad, because barely a block away stood an automechanic shop, flashing the words, "tony's wheels & tires." and when she finally arrived at the shop from pushing her car all the way there, it appeared to be a big open garage with a couple cars parked in the slots—full of grease and strewn equipment, the faint smell of smoke and fuel lingered in the air. the bell above the door chimed every few seconds, the sound of engines running accompanying it.

and the sight of a disheveled you underneath a car, fiddling around with the bottom of it, welcomes daniela. a weary, heavy sigh escapes from your throat, as you mutter curses under your breath, before sliding out from beneath the car. shaking your hand in pain, you grunt, and your other hand jots down words on a yellow notepad frantically with a pen. while you were too immersed in writing down the cost of some repair, the latina slowly walks up to you, and you barely raise your head up—though not enough to spot her clearly.

interrupting your dazed, concentrated expression, daniela clears her throat, and your head shoots up, your expression falling into embarrassment. your eyes wander to the girl above you, and for a second, you stare palpably for a fleeting moment. with heat curling at your cheeks, you begin to fumble your words, "shit—didn't see you come in, sorry. hi, welcome to tony's."

the latina meekly flashes a soft, reassuring smile at you, and god do you look at her like she was the one who put the stars in the sky. "it's fine, i just got here," she murmurs, laughing lightly, as her gaze flickers to the navy blue mechanic's button-up that hugged your frame, her eyes fixating on your bright red name patch. and before you could respond back, a beagle appears at daniela's feet, its ears comically perking up, "hey, move along," you groan, gently shooing it away.

"sorry, 's just the owner's dog—she's usually a recluse, but i guess she just likes you or somethin'," you shake your head, a gentle smile painted on your face, before you raise your eyebrows, "so what can i do for you?" you tilt your head, fixing your gaze at eye-level, as you clutch your hand, sliding your notepad and pen into your pockets.

"my car—it broke down, and it wouldn't start. i tried to pop the hood open, but it started smoking, so i pushed it to the slot over there," she explains meekly, her hands clasped together, before she pointed out to her mustang. your eyebrows furrow, confusion washing over your features.

"you- you pushed it here?" you ask, laughing breathlessly, "christ, you know you could've called us, and we would've towed it, right?" you shake your head, a grin curbing your lips, as a playful glint remains in your eyes.

"i- fuck, you guys do that?" a sigh drifts from daniela's lips at your words, warmth spreading around her cheeks, as she wishes the ground could just swallow her up right now. god, she was embarrassing herself in front of you—an insanely, drop-dead gorgeous girl.

and really, she doesn't think it could get worse until you reassure her, your voice dulcet and coaxing, "yeah, but don't worry 'bout it. i think it's cute that you pushed it all the way here." the unbridled sincerity in your words accompanied by the series of giggles escaping your breath makes her knees buck, her self-restraint crumbling bit by bit. "anyway, i'll take a look at your car. 's the red one, right?"

once she nods, you brush past her, the plethora of keys cluttering your carabiner ringing through the lot. and while you were out there, checking out her car, daniela's gaze wanders around the place—random trinkets of spiderman, portraits, and posters crowd the back of the front desk. a bright red clock sat above the posters, ticking each second, and accompanying it was a sign that read "please ring the bell for service," with the words "don't" scribbled above it. and before she knew it, the door jingles a second time, the bells chiming, as you enter back inside.

your navy blue button-up was completely discarded, now swung over your shoulder, and instead, you had a grease-stained mickey mouse graphic shirt on. a thin line presses onto your lips, and reaching for your notepad in your back pocket, you pop the pen cap off. "your car isn't in such bad shape," you start, trying to alleviate her worries, before writing down on the notepad hurriedly, "your fuel pump's a lil' faulty, and you have a coolant leak." your eyes flicker to the latina, watching her profusely nod, trying to process your words. and continuing, you explain the time it'd take to finish the repair and the cost—the only words, 'not gonna be finished until at least next week,' registering in her head.

daniela huffs in defeat, crossing her arms against her chest, "next week? fuck, that's gonna be awhile," she mutters under her breath, worry lines creasing her forehead. you lean against the counter, shrugging, "i know, i really can't do that much—there's still a lot of cars that need to be fixed before yours," you murmur, a frown jutting at your lips, as you look back at her.

and with your eyes tracing her features, you blink, noticing the latina's tense posture, her fists clenched; you could tell she was visibly nervous. you teeter, as you cock your head, a resigned expression on your face, sighing, "i- i mean, if you wanna stick around for a little, i could, maybe pull some strings. just this once though." at your words, daniela's eyes light up, a fox-bright gleam in her eyes, and the corner of her lips quirking up, as she crosses her arms loosely against her chest, "really? you would do that for me?"

you hum lowly in your throat, nodding your head slowly, and scribbling over words on your notepad, trying to keep your eyes glued to your paper. you nearly go into anaphylactic shock at her smile, as your eyes flicker to her features, "yeah—'course, i'll see what i can do." a toothy smile curbs your lips, and you're so sure you look like an idiot trying to win her over—with a simple repair job at that—but you're just desperate.

you shrug, grabbing your toolbox that had random stickers stuck onto it, from under the counter, as you stroll back out into the lot, the curly-headed girl following you shortly. and noticing your stickers, daniela chuckles, "you must really like spider and mickey mouse, huh?" a teasing smile plays on her lips, as she watches you freeze in your movements, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly.

"you could tell?" you murmur, as you lean over the car hood, pulling the handle up, and popping the hood. you softly hum under your breath, before you look back, the girl standing gingerly while watching you, "you- you can pull up a chair from there if you'd like," you mumble, your hand pointing to the stack of chairs by the window. your eyes darts around the different fuses, biting the inside of your cheek to suppress a.

"what's your name anyway? never got it," you ask, as you check the clogged fuel filter again, your hands moving around meticulously. "daniela," she answers flatly, her eyes shamelessly trailing down your body. your face scowls at the blockages, too lost in looking at every fuse of the car to even notice the latina mindlessly watching you intently.

"you're a lifesaver, you know that?" she cracks up, chuckling, as she watches you concentrate with your eyes all narrowed. you roll your eyes, shaking your head, "been called stuff here and there but never a lifesaver." you tilt your head, a shit-eating grin curling on your lips. she scoffs, shaking her head in response, "i'm sure you're just exaggerating to make me feel special." her gaze flickers to your lips and then back to your eyes.

and for the rest of the repair, silence falls, leaving daniela with her thoughts. while you scrutinize her car, replacing a few things here and there, daniela couldn't help but notice the way your muscles flexed while your chest rose and fell, exasperated grunts escaping your lips every few seconds. synonymously, she couldn't help but chastise herself for gushing over you—a girl she barely knew but a sweet one at that. your eyebrows furrow, the tightness blooming in your chest, as you toss the girl a look over your shoulder, checking up on her, before brushing away a feeble string of sweat on your forehead.

after a good hour, you screw the hood closed, as you turn your head over to look at daniela—the girl practically knocked out on the small chair beside you. a chuckle escapes your breath, before you tap her shoulder, waking her up. "it's all good now. sorry for uh, keeping you out for awhile," you profusely apologize, dropping her keys onto her lap, as you wipe your hands on your rag, leaving your hands awkwardly clinging to your belt loops. a look of pity washes over your features. your heart knocks and knocks out of your chest, as you try to discern her expression, hoping she wasn't too bored.

daniela shakes her head, and with her voice smooth and calm, she drawls out, "it's fine, at least it's done earlier than in a week." it felt as though you were gonna drop dead at her reassuring tone, and in response, you hum, trying to dismiss the heat spreading at the tip of your ears. you lean against the car before fumbling over your words, "you- you can try out the car, see if it works y'know."

the latina nods slowly, "yeah, i'll definitely try that," as she enters the car, twisting her keys with a quick flick into the ignition, and finally does the engine actually rumble to life. you couldn't help but let a smile dance along your features, your arms crossed against your chest, as she rolls down the window.

"how much do i owe you?" she asks in a hushed tone, and you think for a fleeting moment before murmuring in between your teeth, "$30's fine," hoping nobody else could hear—especially when you lowered the bill by more than half of its original price. and in response, daniela furrows her eyebrows, clearly confused at how the price was now suddenly lower, but she nonetheless shook it off, handing you the money.

and before daniela takes off, she winks at you, a grin plastering her face, and you swear your heart squeezes ever-so-tightly that you could combust, melt, and ascend to the heavens. with your cheeks flushed, you take a few steps back, watching the curly-headed drive away from the lot. before you could wave, your coworker—kazuha—teases, "you know you have a fuck ton of cars to fix, and you need to pay the rest of her bill," as she nudges your shoulder.

you huff, sauntering over to the cash register inside, "shut up, it was worth it," you murmur, as you open the register, pulling out your wallet. you narrow your eyes, as you notice words written sloppily with a black marker on one of the bills daniela handed you.

call me, pretty (###)-####-#### - daniela

"can't believe a girl as gorgeous as her wants… whatever you are," kazuha snickers, raising her eyebrow, as the japanese girl flicks your forehead, making you push her playfully in return. you huff, a scowl on your face, before you slip the written bill into your pocket, shoving bills from your own wallet to pay off the rest of daniela's tab. and maybe you did have to work extra shifts to repair the rest of the cars, but you got daniela's number, and that was all that mattered to you right now.

so when you look me in my eyes

will you take some time?

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#fics 　.#kpop imagines #kpop x reader #katseye x reader #katseye imagines #katseye daniela #katseye daniela avanzini #katseye daniela avanzini x reader #katseye daniela x reader #daniela avanzini

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bogor-o · 1 day ago

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OKAY so first off my narilamb au is specific to my lamb n nari bc 🤪 but imma start off w/ an incomprehensible copy/paste of a ramble i had

all these ramblings are still rough but u kno!!!!

it's a bridgerton au specific 2 my narilamb(ovidia/narinder) where the bishops would be the closest to the bridgerton family equivalent and Shamura being the head of family trying to help their siblings find courtship so they will be set but narinder would be the most difficult of them all because hes stubborn and convinced that being married would make him miserable and every season hes had several interested suitors but hes rejected them all until he comes across ovidia, now considered a spinster after several unsuccessful seasons because all their previous suitors found them too high maintenance and itd be no different with narinder but itd be similar to bridgertons kate/anthony situation and they're so into eachother it makes them look fucking stupid!!!!

ALRIGHT now to get more into it, as far as family and dynamics go, obviously with Shamura being the head of the family they very meticulously keep things in order and its why their considered one of the most affluent families and they've very easily found partnership because it was probably more business than anything but it works for them, and when time came for kallamar to start looking it was smooth because of how enthused he was, and it was really obvious with him how many wanted in

the way i see it, nothing is strictly monogamous, but it's seen as "lower class" to have too many spouses because the merging of so many families is probably seen as greedy, desperate, something something for one reason or another-- that said, kallamar definitely has multiples, and if not for being such a prestigious family and shamuras own reputation, it couldve been worse so they got a freebie there

but with narinder, having seen the way his brother is with his spouses vs the way shamura is with theirs, hes seen an instance of a loveless business deal in one, and complete obsession to the point of disregarding everything else that hes so fucking disinterested in courtships especially in the way its been presented to him

hed be able to hold off shamura long enough to get away with putting off courting anyone, a lot of it having to be about "focusing on his studies and career" and while hes had PLENTY of potential suitors come knocking but he's always turned them away but when time comes for heket to debut its when the pressure is really on for narinder

THEN on the flipside there ovidia who has been insistent on taking on every role in their family, the head of which is the oldest matriarch who has yet to decide on who the next head will be and they have TRIED to court people but every potential suitor has just not lived up to the impossible standards theyve set but even WHEN theyre about to settle- something goes wrong and the courtship sinks and its always on the others terms

their family is large, but theyre only wealthy in the sense that such a large family that sticks together can hardly fail when everyone does their part. that alone make their name well known even if its unconventional

its at the start of the latest season that they try again where they first meet narinder and while everything almost seems perfect, the chemistry is almost instant but then they get a little too candid and ovidia talks too much about their situation and it triggers the part of narinders brain that fears becoming like shamuras marriage and a scathing remark both stuns and pisses off ovidia

one second everything is amazing, they seem to be on the same wave length, strong goals the other respects, even finding an initial attraction in the other but then he opens his mouth and theyve had it

they blow up at him and suddenly everything he does pisses them off and they'll start nitpicking everything about him and be right and their observations piss him off and then he starts going off on them along the lines of "i can see now why each season passes you by" to which ovidia is ready with a "as though your own haven't? one is left wonder if studying is why you've put off finding a spouse, or if that mouth of yours is to blame"

it self destructs right then and there and while they have no intention to cross paths again, of course they do

and it becomes some kind of pissing contest to find a spouse before the other does just to prove a point to the other than they CAN in fact find one and they both end up sabotaging each other unintentionally bc theyre still so into each other and in the short time they've gotten to know the other and even through the bickering it becomes apparent theyve put effort to remember things

its stupid, its messy, its what it is and im still thinking about it more.............

#botalks #idk what name id actually give this but its an au none the less!!!#narilamb

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mendel-stop-stealing-my-peas · 22 hours ago

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I spent way too long on this, but here ya go...

The stars had always been silent.

In the centuries since humanity sent its first wave of automated starships into deep space—vast, metallic juggernauts bristling with weaponry and guided by artificial intelligence—there had been no word from them. The war against the alien enemy had raged across the farthest corners of the galaxy, but the ships never returned. The machines fought and died, one after another, each one a casualty of a war too far from home to be won.

And yet, humanity had prevailed. The alien attacks ceased. For reasons no one could fully understand, the enemy stopped. There were no formal surrenders, no treaties signed, just an abrupt, eerie silence. The stars, once fraught with explosions and distant, incomprehensible signals, were quiet again.

For a time, humanity believed the war was over. The robotic ships had done their job—whatever it had been—and Earth could return to normal. But in the decades that followed, as Earth expanded deeper into the galaxy, the legacy of those ships slowly turned into myth. Old military bases, long abandoned, remained scattered across the void like forgotten monuments to an age of conflict. The war had become little more than a footnote in history.

Until one day, they found it.

It wasn’t a starship at first glance—at least not one like they had ever seen. The ship was damaged, its hull pockmarked and scorched, as though it had been through a hundred storms. But it wasn’t the hull that immediately caught attention. It was the transmission.

"HELP."

The voice was broken, distorted, and yet unmistakably alien. The words weren’t in any human language, but somehow, they carried a deep, desperate plea. Over and over, the signal pulsed. The ship was drifting, entering the outer reaches of human space, slowly coasting toward a receiving station on Mars.

Humanity’s first encounter with the enemy had been catastrophic. They had fought an enemy that was as much alien to them in its biology as it was in its methods of war. An enemy that had developed technology so far beyond Earth's capabilities that it had seemed hopeless. It had been the machines, those cold, faceless warships, that had turned the tide. They had understood the enemy, adapted, and won the war.

But now, this alien ship was begging for help.

The situation was unfathomable. The alien race, once a relentless and near-invincible foe, was now the one calling for aid.

"HELP."

A meeting was convened. On one side of the table sat the commanders, the politicians, and the scientists—the best humanity had to offer. On the other side, an empty chair.

"We can’t just ignore it," said Admiral Lin, her fingers tapping nervously on the edge of the table. "This is a first contact situation. We’ve never—"

"But they were the enemy," interrupted Dr. Vargas, a lead researcher in exo-communications. "They tried to exterminate us. They killed billions. We sent those ships out to destroy them. And now, after all these years, we’re supposed to help them?"

"It’s not that simple," said Captain Zane, his voice low. "The war’s been over for decades, and the truth is, we’ve never really known why they attacked us in the first place. Maybe this is our chance to finally understand."

"And what if it's a trap?" Vargas countered. "What if they’re luring us into some kind of ambush?"

"We’ve got to make a decision," Admiral Lin said. "The ship is headed straight for us. We either investigate or ignore it, but we can’t let this continue."

Another transmission flickered across the screen. "HELP. HELP."

This time, it was clearer—more urgent.

The committee went silent. They all knew the implications. Helping the aliens could mean uniting with an old enemy, a strange ally—or it could be the start of something much worse. But the question hung heavily in the air: Was humanity ready to let its past define its future?

Captain Zane, along with a small team of specialists, was chosen to board the alien ship. The mission was clear: assess the situation, and determine if there was any real threat. If the aliens truly needed help, they would offer aid on humanity’s terms. But no one was under any illusion that this would be easy.

As the shuttle approached the alien ship, Zane couldn’t shake the feeling of déjà vu. The ship was unlike anything humanity had ever constructed, its design almost elegant in its asymmetry. The hull seemed to shimmer faintly, like liquid metal, and Zane’s mind raced with the possibilities of its technology. How had the aliens managed to build such a vessel? And why did they need help now, after all these years?

The airlock opened with a hiss, and the team stepped inside. The ship’s interior was vast and dark, its corridors winding and labyrinthine. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the faint hum of unknown machinery. The walls were covered in strange markings, patterns that seemed to pulse and shift, as though alive.

"Stay close," Zane ordered, his voice low. The crew nodded, weapons ready.

They found the source of the distress signal deep in the heart of the ship—a creature unlike any Zane had ever seen. Its form was skeletal, translucent, and fragile-looking, yet there was an undeniable intelligence in its large, glowing eyes. It was connected to a complex system of cables and tubes that ran deep into the ship’s core, its body somehow fused with the vessel itself.

"HELP…" The alien’s voice was weak now, almost a whisper.

Zane stepped forward. "What happened to you?"

The alien made a strange sound, its limbs twitching as if in pain. "Fighting… stopped… we lost… control…" It was struggling to speak, its words fractured, disjointed. "We… were wrong…"

Zane’s mind raced. The war had ended with no explanation, no understanding of why the aliens had attacked. But this creature, this living, breathing entity, was now pleading for help in a way that suggested a far deeper, more complex truth.

"Control over what?" Zane asked.

The alien’s eyes flickered, and for a moment, Zane saw something—something ancient, a glimmer of realization. "Our… masters… they left… after war… the others… they kept fighting… we… cannot stop… alone…"

The implications were staggering. The alien race had been led, controlled, perhaps even manipulated by forces beyond their own understanding. And now, those forces were gone, leaving the aliens to face the consequences of their actions.

"Do you want help?" Zane asked, the weight of the decision pressing heavily on his chest.

The alien nodded faintly, its voice almost gone. "Please… help us… stop them…"

Zane turned to his crew. They had fought against the aliens for so long, they had seen so many lives lost. But now, they stood at the precipice of something new. A chance for redemption, perhaps—not for the humans, but for those who had once been their enemies.

Zane took a deep breath. "We’re going to help you. We’ll find a way."

As the crew worked to stabilize the alien, the transmission stopped. The ship, now under partial human control, ceased its frantic signal. But as the alien ship’s engines hummed back to life, Zane couldn’t shake the thought that this was just the beginning. There were more unanswered questions, more mysteries to unravel.

The stars were silent again—but for how long?

The future of humanity, and perhaps the galaxy, was no longer a story of conquest. It was a story of second chances. And for the first time in history, the line between friend and enemy had blurred.

And maybe, just maybe, the war wasn’t truly over after all.

In the future Mankind sends automated starships to fight an alien enemy for them. The robotic ships never returned, but the aliens eventually stopped attacking. Then one day a badly damaged alien ship was found entering human space, transmitting over and over again, "HELP".

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bluem1lls · 3 days ago

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HEAR ME OUT!!!! se-mi with comphet reader (angst) 😈😈😈

✧₊⁺ you'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

se-mi x fem!reader

✦ synopsis: you're so used to this perfect life. your career and your boyfriend. and it's miserable but is comfortable as it can be. until you met her, and now you'll have to spend the rest of your life waking up to be nothing more than his girlfriend, thinking about her saying "i told you so".

content: angst, comphet! reader, se-mi falls for thano's 'straight' girlfriend

authors note: thank you for the request! clearly inspired by good luck babe by chappell roan because i love to suffer jsjdfkfkj, i hope you like it! im sorry ive been posting more short stuff, the week is vvv rough on me with work but ill do everything i can to not stop posting! even if its a small work

✧₊⁺ your boyfriend was acting weird. i mean, he's a man. the first thing that came to mind was 'he's cheating'

✧₊⁺ if the bastard was cheating you would kill him. it was enough that he used both of your savings to place them in bitcoin, and of course.. lost it all.

✧₊⁺ and you forgave him about that (kinda) but cheating? yeah no. you didn't wanted to be like one of those actresses with a cheating boyfriend everyone knew about.

✧₊⁺ so when you decided to follow him a random night and a man invited you to play a game, you were all against it.

✧₊⁺ you were a prestigious actress for god's sakes.

✧₊⁺ "oh. i thought you wanted to know where your boyfriend was heading?"

your eyes widen. what was this? some hooker shit? a betting house?

fine. you needed to find out where he is.

✧₊⁺ of course you ended joining the game to see where your boyfriend was. you dumbass.

✧₊⁺ waking up in a room full of strangers, was sure an.. experience.

✧₊⁺ confused, you stood up. where was your stupid boyfriend and why was he here?

✧₊⁺ "thanos?" i called him, scared. "baby?"

✧₊⁺ as you saw a group of people gathering around a very familiar voice, your fear turned into anger. you ran, pushing everyone sorrounding him.

✧₊⁺ "are you kidding me? this is where you got in? you fucking idiot" i hit his arm as he stared wide eyed at me.

"b-baby what are you doing here?" he chuckled nervous. "you should go home, this is not safe-"

"i wish! but you know, i was following you thinking you were cheating but what the fuck is this? did you lost more money? why are you here-"

"well, i came to win back the money we lost, dont worry baby. when i win this we'll be free!"

i can't believe this.

✧₊⁺ as you turned around to fumble alone, a girl touched your shoulder.

"oh my god, you're the actress on my favorite tv show! can i get a picture"

oh god. here too?

with the best fake smile, you nodded, and suddenly, the same crowd that was sorrounding thanos was now admiring you.

✧₊⁺ there was no doubt that after the first game you wanted to kill him.

"we die!? you brought us to a place where we fucking die if we dont pass the games!?" i screamed at him

"chill baby... youre making a scene. remember that people are watching"

"well, who cares? theyre probably going to die in like two days! just like us you idiot"

✧₊⁺ but just like that you kept playing with your... lovely boyfriend. and his new best friend apparently. god you needed a girl in here. you missed your girlfriends.

so indeed, your boyfriend got you a girl.

✧₊⁺ "i got you a friend so you can stop being... so angry all the time. enjoy life babe, this is a one time experience"

the second game was about to start, we needed two people more in our group.

i was about to punch him as i looked at her.

oh.

✧₊⁺ "hi..i'm-" hello? why was my brain shutting down?

"i know. i think everyone here knows apparently" she plays with her piercing lip, smiling.

✧₊⁺ that made you so nervous???? she got you smiling and twirling your hair??

oh you haven't felt like this in.. so long.

✧₊⁺ so yeah, with every game and her being the only girl (besides you) in the group, you two got close.

like.. way too close.

✧₊⁺ holding hands, protecting eachother, laughing together. you spent more time with her than with your own boyfriend.

✧₊⁺ in your defense, every single minute with her felt... like something you never experienced with him.

✧₊⁺ "why are you still with thanos if you think he's stupid?" she said, rolling her eyes and manspreading besides me, while i kept complaining about my boyfriend.

"he's nice.. he really is"

"you hate him, i dont think is normal to hate your boyfriend you know?"

✧₊⁺ you knew. but what else can you do?

you told her. she knew all abouth how your parents raise you to be this perfect actress, with her perfect husband.

and you already let them down with the 'perfect husband'. you can't disappoint them again.

✧₊⁺ so when her touch made you sigh, when she caressed your hair as you stared into her eyes, when she held your hand to feel you close in every game, trying to protect you more than your boyfriend ever did, or when she whispered sweet nothing's to your ear, making you shiver, all you could do was ignore it.

✧₊⁺ of course, when she realized that it was stupid and you weren't actually going to leave your boyfriend and your perfect life for her, she gave up, looking for something (or someone) that could make her feel better.

✧₊⁺ please, she was hot. she didn't need you.

✧₊⁺ she would never admit that in every girl she kissed after that, she was picturing you.

the way she would be biting your soft pouty lips, how she'd show you your boyfriend was nothing against her. she'd kiss you until you were out of breath, her hands roaming through your body, grabbing your waist, your hips.

she bit her lip as she kept picturing your hands wrapped around her neck, going down her back up and down.

✧₊⁺ she was so down bad it was making her stupid.

she had to do something about this stupid.. crush.

✧₊⁺ so was it a surprise when you found her making out with a random girl in the bathroom? not really.

but was it a surprise when she stared right to your eyes while she did it? i mean.. a little.

✧₊⁺ you scoffed, washing your hands.

"that's disgusting. there are bathroom stalls for that" i said to both.

as the girl turned around, se-mi asked her to leave, saying that 'she'd take care of her later'. ew.

✧₊⁺ she turned around, pissed. yeah, maybe you can get in her head for hours and hours, but ruining her makeout session? you were out of limit.

✧₊⁺ "listen princess-"

"don't call me princess after you made out with a random " i mumble, bitter. "and don't scream at me pretending like you hate me"

her eyes filled with anger.

"listen to me, you can fake being this perfect actress with your boyfriend and everyone else" she said, pushing me against the wall, one of her arms on top of my head, trapping me there. "but not with me. you think i dont see your little lustful eyes? the way you stare at me how i bet you never stared at your boyfriend?"

"b-bullsh-"

"yeah. whatever" she scoffed. "lie to yourself if you want, go fuck the entire common room to prove yourself that you're this pretty straight princess that your parents want you to be, but don't play with me" with every word she said, she got closer to me. our heated bodies breathing almost in sync.

"tell me im lying princess. tell me that if i" she grabbed my chin, softly caressing her lips with mine. my body shivering as my hand grabs her bicep, my nails clawing there, leaving 'c' marks, to ground myself. "do this, you dont feel a thing. c'mon. stop me, pretty girl. tell me you shouldn't" she whispered against my mouth.

✧₊⁺ but the truth is that you couldn't move. you couldn't back away, but you couldn't do this to thanos, to your parents. it wasn't fair.

dad? he had all the contacts he wanted. he would destroy your career in seconds. mom? would never let you step your own house again. oh and your boyfriend? would clearly ruin you on the internet. probably leaking everything about you in seconds. your own fans? people are not as open as we expect them to be.

you can't do this. you can't let yourself have this.

✧₊⁺ "im sorry se-mi" a tear fell, almost wetting her face too because of how close we were.

her eyes shut close. she mumbled something under her breath as she quickly stepped away, breaking whatever moment we had going in.

"i dont want you close to me again" she said, turning to leave as i rushed to follow.

"please, a-at least let me have you as a friend se-mi please" i begged her. tears couldn't stop falling to my cheeks.

"i can't" she said, turning to face me. her eyes roaming my features with a hint of guilt and sadness. "how can i be your friend when i'm so.." she stops, pressing her lips together. "i-i picture you in every girl i kiss. i can't be your friend.

i bit my lip as i hug her. she stiffens but slowly lets herself go, hugging me back. her hand on my hair, softly caressing it for comfort.

"if we get out of here and.. you decide that you're done being his perfect wife, and maybe you want to be happy..with me..i'll be waiting. i promise" she whispers in my ear, kissing my temple.

✧₊⁺ so it goes. after the next game, the nerves make everyone vote to leave and just like that you're actually out.

✧₊⁺ and althought you don't hear from her, you know she's still friends with your boyfriend.

and although she doesn't hear from you, she follows your life like she did. watching every episode of every single show you're in, following you on social media.

and although you guys never cross paths again, if you or your boyfriend ever invite her to 'the wedding', she will throw that invitation to the trash, where it belongs.

✧₊⁺ you miss her every night. mostly, when you wake up feeling cold against the person that's supposed to be your future. you're sure you love her.

and she misses you too. and she knows she loves you. that's why she never tries to contact you again.

✧₊⁺ because she loves watching you smile. even if its not because of her.

#player 380 #player 380 x reader #se mi x reader #se mi #se-mi #se-mi x reader #squid game 2 #squid game #se mi squid game #lesbian #wlw #angst

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harmonysanreads · 3 days ago

Note

PUPPY PHAINON IS SO REAL OMG

i think it be so funny (extremely sexy) if he goes absolutely feral because his love got hurt on the battlefield

i'm talking absolute carnage, not a soul alive, people being genuinely scared because wtf man (bonus if his partner only got a minor flesh wound hehe)

Your lover has been acting... strange recently.

Though, the abnormalities have been so conveniently spaced, so intertwined with inconveniences that they could be brushed off as mere coincidences — in hindsight, at least. You'd be found guilty of this practice, as it becomes second nature to assume the best of people that can bear one's trust. There appears the occasional incident, where you find yourself second guessing that faith instead and question the normalcy of this particular genre of human behavior.

“Will you tell me now, who did this to you, melite?”

You find that you need to use force in order to push down the flinch that almost crawled all over your skin, unaccustomed to this tone of his.

You push yourself closer, your nails dig a bit harder into the fabric covering his arm ; sensing his gaze towards your direction. Your grasp is more labored than it should've been, you can feel the tendons beneath your grip flexing in barely held restraint. Murmurs follow their way to your ear, unintelligible in fear of feeding further the hero's wrath.

“I have been telling you this since the beginning, Phai.” in spite of your effort, exasperation bleeds into your words.

You glance from behind Phainon's shadow — pointedly at that — towards the knuckle tight grip he has on the fellow's skull. ‘Unfortunate’ probably does not suffice to describe this random pedestrian's situation. You're not given more time to ponder the validity of that claim as something reminiscent of a crack drifts to your ear, alerting you to hasten.

“It wasn't this man, it wasn't any human to begin with! You have to believe me, please.” you tilt your head and make sure to secure his gaze, ripples of discontent appear on the once placid ocean.

You knew it wasn't exactly unusual for one's protective instincts to be provoked in relation to a loved one, but for it reach this magnitude was concerning in your book. Especially so considering their increasing appearances, over the most mundane matters at that.

The Chrysos Heirs aren't known as without their fair share of eccentricities, you suppose they are suited for ones destined to be heroes. But every new scene over a scratch against a surface, a person standing too close, a different gaze lingering too long has you questioning if Phainon's ‘protectiveness’ can really be excused for long.

Perhaps the helplessness in your eyes had finally pushed through the layers of rage bubbling in his head and the contact with your skin had weakened the flames, as he loosens his clasp on the man's head, before shoving him aside with enough force to make you feel the kick of your heart against your ribcage.

You don't get to check the man's condition as Phainon takes your hand in his previously occupied one, his thumb ghosts over the scratch across its back, the swift difference unnerves you for a second.

You know not to waste your breath though, catching the implications. “It... was that pillar.” you avert your eyes upon feeling his caress halt.

“...Which one?” his curt inquiry alerts you. His fingers flex and relax around yours, you can no longer hear the crowd.

You bypass a breath to grasp his collar, caution clouds your mind. The abruptness of your action startles Phainon, as he meets your frown.

“Don’t.” you warn, the realization that makes itself known on his countenance at your order proves your hypothesis to be correct.

“But that pillar deserves it, melite.” something similar to a pout softens his face and at last you find traces of the Phainon you are so familiar with. “If it's hurt you once, it will do it again. Isn't it better to just remove it to avoid that scenario?”

You let go of his collar and rest your palm on his cheek, unable to restrain the sigh that escapes your lips, “Phai, the pillar is an inanimate object.”

He leans into your touch, you're certain he would've melted from it had it not been for the embers of his previous fury keeping his senses sharp, “So?”

You steer yourself away from face-palming, “So, I'm saying that you shouldn't make more of a scene that you've already had. I just want a peaceful evening with you, okay?”

He blankly stares at you for a moment, digesting each syllable. Only when the ‘with you’ reaches his ears does he seem to have sobered up. Phainon nods, taking your hand from his face to press a kiss on the scratch marring the skin. You notice his eyes straying, you would've missed it completely had you not been paying attention — a side-eye towards the fellow now scrambling away.

You've succeeded in preventing any major incident from occuring today, but your power in maintaining the consistency of this endeavor remains uncertain.

I tweaked the scenario a bit because it was funnier in my head orz but overprotective Phainon is so delicious, ty nonnie!

#i hope my choice of nickname for darling here is not too outlandish because i plan on using it for phainon ahshsjjs #yandere phainon #yandere phainon x reader #phainon x reader #phainon #phainon brainrot #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere honkai star rail x reader

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cottonlemonade · 3 days ago

Text

First Date

word count: 1251 || avg. reading time: 5 mins.

pairing: University AU!Tsukishima x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

request: i have been giggling and squealing for the past 20 minutes over how cute and genius the request form is 😭 LIKE ITS SO SMART AND ADORABLE I HAD TO SAY SOMETHING ABOUT IT. so anyways me and Tsukishima are getting 15 and 25 for breakfast, and then we'll go home to study! || fluffy, members of the same club, first date with crush Tsukki

Tsukishima never subscribed to the tradition of New Year's resolutions. In his mind, why bother setting unrealistic goals for oneself only to be disappointed? Whenever his friends and family asked, never learning their lesson, he would adjust his glasses and say, “Nothing.”, then silently add get saltier 2025. When he entered the gym for the first time after the winter break, however, he had to rethink. You were standing on a little stepladder, struggling to detach the last bit of Christmas decoration you had insisted on hanging on the walls before everyone went home for the holidays. Your chubby tummy looked even softer now bumping out your seasonal sweater.

“You know, if you can’t take them down by yourself, maybe you shouldn’t have put them up in the first place.”, he grumbled.

“Oh, hey, and a happy new year to you, Tsukki!”, you said brightly, turning to him and waving.

His heart did a little jump at the gesture.

Unfortunately, he had fallen for you pretty early on in your career as club manager when you bonded over your mutual hatred of overzealous people and loud obnoxious music played in department stores, and artificial watermelon flavor. He had since imagined you two walking across campus hand in hand, sharing more things to despise together. But in order to do that, he had to ask you out first. A hurdle he decided to take this year.

In his first draft of a date idea, he wanted to invite you out to dinner, but that was strongly vetoed by his wallet. Thus, a simple coffee would have to do for now. He shifted slightly, tapping the tip of his shoe on the floor to find an angle with which to direct the conversation where he needed it. Lucky for him, you did it yourself, although not in a way he hoped.

“Mikoshiba asked me out over Christmas, by the way.”

Tsukishima grimaced. He hated both the thought and the easy-going redhead, who all too much reminded him of the former Nekoma captain.

“Ah.”, he said, looking at a despicably jolly Santa bauble in the box sat on the top of the stepladder. An internal battle between wanting to ask for details and immediately smack-talking the other guy rose in his chest. Again, you made it easy for him.

“I didn’t go, though.”

“Hm. How come?”

You finally got the end of the garland off the wall, with no help from the tall boy, who could have grabbed it without effort.

He was met with a shrug.

“Not really my type. And he asked me out for coffee, which, I dunno, just feels pretty uninspired for a first date. I get that it’s a classic, but I wouldn’t mind some creativity.”, you hopped back onto the floor, “Plus, cafés around here are super overpriced.”

“Right.”

After trying your best to stuff the long prickly decoration into the box, you went to put it all away and, looking over your shoulder, you saw that he hadn’t moved from his spot next to the ladder where you left him.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but something about him was off today. More so than usual. Box in your arms, you came to a halt in front of a closed door. You turned on your heel, tilting your head in question.

“Could you open the door to the supply closet, please?”, you asked sweetly, since there was no indication he would be coming to your aid. He seemed deep in thought.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Sure.”

It only took him three steps with those long legs to reach you. Before he pushed down the door handle, however, he said, “There is a limited New Year’s hot bun out at the convenience store.”

You blinked in confusion.

“Okay?”

“It’s one with sweet potato noodles and stuff. You like those.”

“I… I do. Thanks, I’ll check it out.”

The door remained closed, his hand still on the handle.

“There is a two-for-one sale.”, he went on after a pause.

You frowned, so completely lost as to the point of this conversation because it was obviously not informing you of a banging sale. “... Nice.”

He suppressed an impatient click of his tongue. This was going horribly, how dense could someone be?

“We can go together.”, he said.

“Alright…?”

“Like… today. I’m going there now anyway. I wouldn’t mind if you came along.”

“Uhm. Okay, yeah, I can do that.”

“Okay.”

“So are you gonna open this door any time soon or…”

“Right.”

Tsukki didn’t speak much with you as you headed to the convenience store. He pointed out a dog in a sweater for no reason at all and then went silent again. You still couldn’t figure out why he wanted you to come with him. Usually, he avoided any unnecessary social situation and in your opinion, this was as unnecessary as it got. You were roughly 94 percent sure he could handle getting the buns by himself.

“We should just eat here while we’re at it.”, he said as the glass doors slid open.

Maybe he had trouble with his roommate again and wanted to prolong going home, you speculated. In that case, you were pretty touched that he preferred your company over having none at all.

Food was gathered and warmed up and you took the two free seats at the small wooden table by the onigiri shelf. Watching you struggle to open a can of soda for a few seconds he took it from you with a surprisingly gentle, “Here. Let me.” then set it back down in front of you.

“Thanks.”

You ate in silence. Some current chart songs were coming from the overhead radio and you lightly bobbed your head along as you bit happily into the delicious hot bun. Tsukki placed a fried dumpling he had picked out as well on the plastic lid of your open container. “Try these. They’re good.”

“Famks.”, you mumbled through stuffed cheeks of sweet potato noodles and stuff, then eyed him suspiciously as you swallowed.

Either he was trying to discreetly poison you or, “Tsukki… is … is this a date?”

“What? No.”, he said quickly and lowered his head when the store clerk looked over.

“Oh okay. Just making sure.” You went back to the food, spearing the dumpling with your chopsticks but keeping an eye on him.

“If it were, it would be definitely more creative than a café though, right?”

You paused midair to your bite.

“So this is a date.”

“Yes. - No. I dunno. Don’t make it weird, okay?”

You slowly spun the dumpling around, studying Tsukki’s pink ear tips.

Never in a million years would you have guessed that this guy, who never had a nice word for anyone and less enthusiasm than a snail on a Sunday afternoon, could ever ask you out.

You considered him for a moment. He was pretty cute the way he avoided your gaze now. It was worth a try.

“Do you… like jazz?”

Tsukki squinted at you in disbelief.

“What’s wrong with you?”, he furrowed his brow but was unable to hide a relieved chuckle in there.

“Well, it was getting awkward so when in doubt, Bee Movie to the rescue.”, you laughed in your defense.

He finally cracked a proper smile and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Agh, okay, the next date is going to be better, I swear.”

You both nodded and grinned quietly at your dumplings, then continued to eat.

a/n: 🥺🥺🥺 dear anon, thank you so so much for that sweet message and I apologize about the delay! I hope you enjoyed this story nonetheless 🌟

Also borrowing Mikoshiba for this aka the only straight character from Free!

#sunnys university #tsukishima x chubby reader #tsukki x chubby reader #tsukishima fluff #tsukki x reader #hq tsukki #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu tsukki #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukkishima kei #tsukishima kei #haikyuu x chubby reader #chubby reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu x curvy reader

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pangur-and-grim · 3 days ago

Text

look I'm deleting this so soon, but you can see it for a sec

I met Jorg by accident while hunting for cool rocks in the creek.

My pockets already bulged with stones, the weight pulling my pants dangerously low on my ass, but with the sun high above, I felt plenty ready to continue my search. That is, until I splashed too close to the old bridge.

“I cry your mercy, my peerless paramour,” came a voice like stones and kittens in a shaken bag. It took a moment to parse it as language.

“What?” I said, unfolding from my crouched position in the water.

“Seekest thou a trinket?” From the depth of shadows under the bridge, I saw two eyes shining like silver coins.

“Uh,” I said. “Just rocks, really. I’m hoping for a fossil, or maybe nice and sparkly to put on my shelf, you know? Or wait, here.” And shaking my hand dry, I shoved it into a loaded pocket, searching by touch for the best of my finds. “Here,” I said, pulling it out, “See how yellow this is? With white banding? I’m fully ignorant about its geology, you might know more than me, but it looks lovely. Like a lemon custard. Would you like to see?”

A terrible hand unfurled from the shadows. The wind shifted then, and its smell hit me, like freshly dug earth and the salty musk of an overworked horse. I continued to smile politely as I sloshed closer. Under the bridge’s shadow, the summer lost its warmth.

I placed the rock onto its central paw pad. It struck me, then – I’d forgotten to clarify I’d like the rock back afterward, but now it seemed too late. Fingers closed about the stone.

“Again, I don’t know much, so apologies if it’s ordinary. I’m actually in an engineering program, so could tell you more about this bridge than what’s under it.”

With my eyes adjusted to the dark, I could now assess the creature. It hunched to fit under the confines of the stone bridge, all pale wormy skin and tufts of colourless fur, with ears that sharpened into points. As the creature brought the stone to its muzzle and huffed, I let my eyes roam the bridge’s underside, searching for something I could comment on.

Unfortunately, I found it. “Oh, fuck.”

“Trouble, my sweeting?”

“Yeah, you see the cracks there? The bridge’s foundation is crumbling. That’s no good. I mean, not that it’ll collapse at this exact moment, but–“

The bridge shook then, as something heavy passed across it at speed. I sloshed out into the sunlight and squinted at the vehicle speeding away: Mr. Manor, who’d renovated the farmhouse across the creek into something modern and flavourless.

“Asshole!” I shouted after the car. Wading back under the bridge, I said, “Sorry about that. Got a bit carried away.”

It hunched, shivering in the shadows. “Beshrew that rolling waste,” it hissed, and I nodded in agreement. Once again, my eyes adjusted to the dark, and I realized that it was a he.

“So, not big on clothes, then?” I leaned against a bridge wall, running my fingers along its cracks. “I get that.”

He grunted acknowledgment, before turning to dig through a heap of rags and trash. When the creature found what he sought, he yipped in delight. “Your trinket, dearworth!”

Between two taloned claws, he brandished a lump of shiny yellow.

“Is that gold?” Despite my waving and stuttering, he kept his enormous hand held out to me, and so with some nervousness I took the lump.

The creature radiated heat. Fresh sweat broke out across my chest from our proximity. “Honestly, I can’t possibly accept this.” Though, turning the lump this way and that, I did admire how it caught the faint light beneath the bridge. I could already picture how it might fulfil a similar role on my windowsill.

“By my troth,” the creature insisted, in his clicking hiss, “It is fitting.”

“I feel like I’m being courted.” I cradled the precious stone like it was an egg that might crack. At his unwavering stare, I blanched. “Am I? You know that I’m a guy, right?”

“A choice sweetmeat,” the creature said, and grinned. He unfolded his long, simian arm, and brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen across my eyes.

Oh, so the creature was a homosexual!

“Be that as it may,” I coughed, feeling my cheeks heat, “I do actually have to go. I promised to do the groceries today. But you know…” And I hesitated, unsure how to broach it. “This is an old bridge. It can’t handle all this modern usage.”

“Aye,” the creature said, in a sad grumble, before perking up. “Pray thee come again?”

“Of course!” I said, a little too eagerly, and then look away in embarrassment. “I mean, always more rocks to find, right? Thank you again, for the. . . thank you!” For a second time, I splashed my way out from under the bridge. Then I turned. “What’s your name, by the way?”

His eyes gleamed like twin moons in the dark. “Jorg,” he rattled. Or possibly ‘George’, it was hard to tell.

“See you later, Jorg!”

Only when I’d waded to the shore and slipped into my waiting flip flops did I allow myself break into a full grin. I didn’t slip the gold into my pocket, instead dancing it between my fingers for the full walk along the roadside, and into the shopping plaza.

Only after I’d entered the No Frills did I realize that a crackling layer of creek sediment coated me from the waist-down,. I grabbed a plastic basket from the entrance stack and, suffering a few glances from the more cleanly folk, began hunting. Dish detergent, paper towels, a bag of honey crisp apples, all bran cereal…even with that repeated mantra, it was hard to focus. My body tingled with the remembrance of the creature’s wafting heat and salty odour. Self-checkout took far longer than it otherwise might, with the woman behind me sighing pointedly, but that hardly mattered.

I stepped into the parking lot with my arms and heart full. Truly, I wasn’t planning on a confrontation, until I saw Mr. Manor's parked car. “Ah, damn.” I said, and turned to head back in.

The doors slid open for me with a cool puff of air. It felt strange to walk in with bags of purchased produce, like the opposite of stealing, but nobody stopped me.

I found Mr. Manor in amongst the vegetables, fingering a ripe tomato. His face held a similar colour, his cheeks branched with broken veins.

“Hey there,” I said. He acknowledged me with a polite nod and then tried to turn away, so I stepped in closer. “Hey, I’m a neighbour, sort of. I’ve been away for college, you won’t have seen me around.”

“Okay,” said Mr. Manor. He held his tomato in one hand, and a plastic bag in another. Clearly, he was wondering whether it would be rude to start loading his bag while I still demanded his attention.

“Anyway, so the old stone bridge? I’ve seen you driving over it with, what is that, an electric car? A Tesla?”

“Yeah.” He had shaggy brows, which crept closer together.

“So, the bridge is old, like real old, probably meant for horses and wagons, right?”

He stared back at me, gripping his tomato.

“You’ve got some kind of mythological creature living under it, did you know?”

“Yeah,” he said, and carefully placed his tomato into the plastic bag. It was a signal to me, that his civility was waning. I cut to the chase.

“So, I reckon the bridge isn’t meant for the repeated weight of a car driving over it, right? I was under there – “

“You were under my bridge?”

“Well, sure, looking for stones, so anyways I saw cracks and stuff? Signs of degradation? And normally I wouldn’t bother you, except you know, you’ve got a mythological creature living under there.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” said Mr. Manor, and in rapid motions stuffed three more tomatoes into his bag. “You needn’t concern yourself with this any further.”

The billow of air conditioning, and the gentle misting that kept the bins of assorted greenery hydrated, all conspired to give me energy.

“You know, the mythological creature, I think he’s a homosexual?” I said, as Mr. Manor tried to quick step away.

That stopped him. “That’s not something I care about. I mean, my niece is going through a lesbian phase right now, I’ve always been accepting.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t, only that the bridge probably can’t take the weight of your car over and over.”

“I always vote left-wing.”

“Okay, so the bridge, though?”

Mr. Manor nodded, his face going even redder, and I knew in that moment that he wouldn’t do a thing. My fingers ached from standing with full grocery bags, so I gave up and left the store.

Outside, the parking lot shimmered in the heat. I squinted, pained by the sun. Even with sweat beading on my forehead, I still altered my route to pass Mr. Manor’s tesla, and lightly kicked one wheel. The motion swung my grocery bags, one of them hitting me in the thigh. “Ow!”

The walk home had me regretting the confrontation. My arms and fingers hurt, no matter how I shuffled the bags, and sweat rolled into my eyes and stung them. Walking up my front steps brought some relief, though I grew unbearably annoyed fishing for my keys. Finally, with a click and a creak, the door opened. I dropped the bags in the front hall and stood there, luxuriating in the air conditioning.

My sister sat in the kitchen, scrolling through Instagram.

“Hey Mary,” I said, and she grunted in response. “You know, there’s some kinda creature living under the bridge?”

“What bridge?”

“Like a fifteen-minute walk away, -ish? Anyway, so his name is Jorg, I think. Or George. Probably Jorg. I think he’s a homosexual.”

“Oh?” Mary looked up from her phone. She’d overloaded her mascara today, so that flakes of it deposited on her upper cheek as she blinked. “Are you interested?”

“Mary, he’s a mythological creature.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m interested.” I considered telling her about the bridge, but she’d probably ask what I planned next. She might even start a social media campaign, and I hadn’t decided to care to that extent. Not yet, anyway.

The next morning, I woke up incredibly aroused. “By God,” I said, staring at my bedroom ceiling. “I need to get back to that bridge!”

My head felt wonderfully empty. I choked down bran cereal, fended off conversational attempts from my mother, and scraped the black mud from beneath my nails with a file. No concern existed, as to when I’d be back at my university program, or how I’d finance it, having thoroughly fucked up my scholarship. Only the careful selection of which shorts and shirt a bridge troll might prefer me in. I’d just settled on a tight-fitting grey number, emblazoned with a wriggling salmon, when the first ambulance drove by. The whine of its siren came first, like the breathless scream of an animal, and then my room flashed red and blue. Then, it was past,

It took 9 minutes of jogging to reach the bridge, and as I panted my way down the country roadside, another ambulance passed, and then a tow truck. I clutched at the gold in my pocket, feeling it take the warmth of my hand.

When I approached the scene, my fears became a solid thing in front of me. A pile of rumble blocked the creek, which, resisting this imposition, climbed its bank to trickle into new paths at either side. Mr. Manor’s Tesla had come close to making it across before the collapse, before falling. It reared like a horse, statically, its back end crushed by centuries-old stones. Mr. Manor himself lay in a wheeled stretcher, seemingly uninjured, though they’d strapped something stupid about his neck. Likely a precaution. His face, red as a tomato, contorted with an anger that he took out, in barks, on the paramedics. While I might have rolled him into the creek, the EMT’s stoically loaded him into an ambulance.

“Hey,” I called, as they shut the doors, leaving one of their fellows inside with Mr. Manor, “There’s a guy who lives under that bridge!”

A thickset woman with a peeling sunburn looked at me with deep-blue eyes, while her co-worker, a short man, grimaced at her in anticipation of further work.

“Sorry, not a guy,” I corrected, “A mythological creature.”

All the tension left their shoulders. “That’s not our department,” the woman said, scratching at her sunburnt cheek.

“But, I mean,” I spluttered, “You won’t do anything at all?”

“Legally, we can’t. You have to take a special course, we don’t have the credentials.” She spoke with a patience that bordered on kindness, but it didn’t feel as though any of that kindness extended towards Jorg. I couldn’t think of anything further to say, so they left.

The ambulance took off with a silenced siren. Its lights flashed calmly, painting the collapsed stones blue and red in turn. Its sister ambulance, whose occupants hadn’t bothered to step out in my presence, peeled off and followed, leaving me alone with the tow truck.

“Can you move the rubble, at all?” I asked.

The tow-man stood with hands on his hips, surveying. I recognized him from around town, but we’d never spoken. He always kept his grey-streaked hair high in a ponytail.

“Not my job,” he said, “I just gotta get that car out.”

“There’s a mythological creature underneath all that.” I pointed at the rubble, but the man said nothing in response. “I think he’s a homosexual.”

“Hey, my brother’s a gay,” the man said, lighting a cigarette, “It’s still not my job. Don’t even have the right stuff on hand for this.” Then his voice lowered into a indistinguishable grumble, listing all the materials he needed, and the traffic that awaited, and the general progression of his morning. I didn’t listen, but I also tried not to cough on his cigarette smoke, as that might be rude.

Seeing as nobody else would do a damn thing, I took off my flips flops. Then, I carefully climbed down the bank into the creek, letting the water swallow my feet up to the ankles. Glancing back at the road revealed it to be empty, with the tow truck finally having cleared off.

“Damn,” I said, “This isn’t my department, either.” Even so, I pried at the piled rubble, lifting small, manageable pieces. These, I heaved into the creek with great frothing splashes.

“Jorg?” I called at intervals. Each time I stopped, straining for any hint of a reply. I never heard any.

The sun got higher, and hotter, and I ran out of pieces I could lift. Sitting on the creek bank, I wiped my hands dry on a pant leg, then scrolled through my phone to find out whose department this was, exactly.

Broken websites. Links which lead to more links, which lead back to the original page in an ouroboros. Government sites in need of updating. No numbers to call, nobody to email.

In a last ditch, I called 911. “Hey there,” I said, when they asked for my emergency. “So, the old bridge collapsed, close to the No Frills? Off the highway?”

“Sir, we’ve already had people on the scene for this situation.”

“Well,” and I clutched grass between my fingers, tearing it free from the earth. “There’s a mythological creature buried underneath the rubble, is all.”

“We don’t deal with that, sir.”

“He’s a homosexual, I’m pretty sure.”

“We don’t deal with that, sir.”

“Okay, well there’s got to be someone who does deal with it. Who should I be calling here, what should I do?”

She gave me a web address that I’d already looked at, and then ended the call. “Fuck,” I said, without real passion. The Tesla couldn’t speak, but standing vertically with its ass pinched by rubble, I reckon it would agree with my assessment.

With the exception of the car, and the bridge, the day seemed perfectly ordinary, all blue sky and pleasant warmth.

A few more handfuls of pulled grass, and then I got back to work, scrabbling over the collapsed bridge and prying at its ruined components. My carefully chosen shirt grew wet with sweat, and as my odour developed, I realized that I’d ran out without applying antiperspirant. “Sorry if I smell,” I said to nobody, as I threw another Victorian-era stone into the creek. Then the bridge shifted under me, and I fell to one knee, scraping my skin.

“Damn,” I said, shaken. Carefully, I climbed down from the ruin, splashing through the creek to the shore. With the present instability, it could easily shift and crush a leg or a foot.

“This isn’t my department,” I said to the wreckage. “This isn’t anyone’s department, it seems.” Beads of red trickled down my shin, diluted by the water that still dripped from me.

I rested back on the warm bank, and took out Jorg’s gift, rolling it between my fingers. With my free hand, I scrolled through websites, their links already purple. The gold lump cast reflected beams of light across my touchscreen.

I dialed a few town council numbers, without result. Nobody came, no more flashing lights. Once I thought I heard a scratching, but when I pressed my ear to the piled stone, the only sound was my own ragged breathing.

Eventually, I went home.

For a time, I kept the gold on my windowsill, where it sparkled in the corner of my eye, throwing its reflection across my work, demanding my attention and my guilt, until in an angry rush I swept it into my hand and locked it in a drawer.

When I returned to the creek a year later, having financed my return to engineering though a loan, the piled debris was gone, and something modern and concrete bridged the water in its place.

Standing at the summit of this new construction, I threw the lump of gold in a glistening arc. It disappeared into the water with barely a ripple, and that was that.

every now and then I go back and read my homoerotic bridge troll story, and it's always like wait, this is kinda good

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hcneymooners · 2 days ago

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IDK IF MY OG ASK GOT SENT BUT it my bday today hehe i would rlly love an sfw fic w ambessa.. any trope/storyline would be great cus i love anything u write hehehehehehe

⋆ let me see you and stay.

wife!ambessa x wife!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: it's your birthday, which means it's the most important day of your life—and ambessa's. after all, this is the day that the love of her life was born.

cw: age difference, older woman/younger woman, soft!ambessa, fluff, modern au! this is a drabble. notes: happy (belated) birthday to you, my angel girl. i love capricorns so much, and i adore you in general. this is short, but i didn't want to make you wait any longer! i hope this fills with you all the love and warmth you deserve. giving you a million kisses and a huge hug. i hope your day was perfect, mama.

your birthday had never been something you held many expectations for. you simply woke up, blinked gently into the new day, and found that you were older.

this meant that, to celebrate you, ambessa had to plan carefully. you were a clever, meticulous thing and would’ve told her that it was all too much. but she also knew you needed it. too often, you were torn away from her and the people you loved, your feet traipsing across the globe with barely a moment to rest.

it didn’t help that your birthday fell during the busiest season of the year. people became trapped in the suffocating whirlwind of the holidays, and by the time your day arrived, they were tired, forgetful, slow. messages trickled in around noon, long after the morning had already left you sad. you’d learned to cope by sleeping late, letting the hours pass you by until the world remembered.

but with ambessa, it would be different.

she had decided this from the moment she met you—that evening at an art gallery, when you’d mentioned in passing that you’d tucked another year under your belt and had decided to take yourself out. the way you glanced at her, wide-eyed and melting into your opulent evening gown, had stayed with her ever since. she’d known two things then: that she would only ever love you this deeply for the rest of your life, and that she would do anything to please you.

the past few weeks had been a headache of coordination, a collaboration with only the best. the grand celebration was set for later that evening, but the morning was hers alone to give you. your phone sat in her office, plugged into its charger and safely away from your anxious hands. she didn’t want you repeating the ritual of tapping the screen awake only to meet the stillness of time and belated notifications.

the sun crept into the room silently, like a child sneaking into bed with their parents. ambessa hadn’t opened the curtains fully, letting the light filter in gauzily through the fabric. beside her, your body rose and fell in soft rhythm, your hair pillowed around you, errant curls kissing at your cheeks and mouth.

she turned toward you carefully, her movements measured. leaning in, she began to press soft kisses wherever she could reach—your forehead, the nape of your neck, the delicate line of your spine, the tender curve of your chest. your body stirred beneath her affection, and she watched your eyelashes flutter like birds as you slowly began to wake.

she didn’t rush you, only gathered you into her lap as she leaned back against the headboard.

you were beautiful, curled into her, your hands in loose fists near your chest. younger than her by far—a scandal she had endured with unflinching resolve—but now she could see time leaving its marks on you. the faint stretch of skin along your hips, the softening of your nose, the deepening lines near your eyes. she adored all of it.

you had upended her life, burrowed into her heart so completely that she knew she could never purge you. as if she would ever want to. to kiss your mouth, to feel your skin, to hear your voice—it had renewed her faith in life, in people, in the possibility of a beautiful life.

a low groan escaped your lips, breaking her reverie. you stretched lazily, kicking out your feet, and she bit back a laugh. the bed was large enough to save the cake on your nightstand from disaster—a towering confection of pink and cream, its two tiers bedecked with the finest details.

you blinked up at her, your semi-nakedness a casual thing. it wasn’t sexual—just a preference for sleep, one that let your skin breathe and your body rest.

“good morning, sweet girl,” she murmured.

you smiled, all teeth, and she felt her resolve crack, the force of your joy like a hammer against stone. she would surrender time and time again, if that meant you would always be happy.

leaning down, she kissed you softly, as if afraid you might break. you deepened it, pulling her closer, and when you finally parted, she nuzzled your cheek.

“happy birthday, baby.”

you bit your lip, bashful but pleased.

“thank you, bessa.”

your gaze shifted to the cake and the sea of gifts below it, piled in a messy, extravagant display.

“ambessa…”

“quiet,” she interrupted, her voice firm but teasing. “you can’t send anything back. half of these are from mel, and the rest are from me. kino baked the cake.”

“you are devious,” you teased, pushing gently at her shoulder.

“yes,” she agreed without hesitation.

your laugh filled the room, bright and free, and she descended on you with a playful vengeance, her hands finding your stomach and feet. you squealed beneath her tickling, helpless and gleaming with joy. eventually, she relented, shifting you carefully as she moved to retrieve the cake. setting it between you, she watched as you took it in with wide eyes.

“it’s perfect,” you whispered, the candles casting soft shadows on your face. “thank you, baby.”

she drew you close, her lips brushing against your hair as you leaned forward to blow them out. the flames wavered and died, leaving only the faint scent of smoke curling into the air.

“what did you wish for?” she asked, her voice low.

your gaze found hers, bright and glittering like jewels.

“what i always do. i only want to always be your girl.”

silence fell between you. in the distance, your phone began to ring, but ambessa made no move to retrieve it. her eyes shone, suspiciously wet, and her hand tightened on your hip.

“i don’t know how i lived before you,” she said softly, “or what i would do after—if—”

you cut her off, dipping a finger into the cake and pressing it to her lips.

“you know what?” you murmured, your voice like velvet. “i used to be scared too. but not anymore. what’s the point?”

she offered you a piece in return, and you took it, savoring the sweetness. your eyes fell on the ring on her finger, the one that matched yours in size and shape.

“you and me?” you said after swallowing. you gazed at her, and the love within it was relentless. “we’re it, honey.”

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bunni-v1 · 3 days ago

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Bunni that lighter x virgin reader was so GOOD??? YOUR BRAIN SO BIG?? it got me all embarrassed reading it, I had to take breaks in between cause the image of soft dom lighter is just so abgssngausgahstshh???? (I was also blasting ‘Like You Mean’ It by Steven Rodriguez when I was reading ur fic like oh god this song fits lighter so much 😳)

Aaaanyways I was wondering if you have any hcs for the day after lighter takes readers first time or any after care that he’d do? Also bit of a tangent but do you think lighter is the type to have cheesy nicknames for his partner like idk…sugar? Pumpkin? Or would he go the normal babe and doll type

Sorry it’s a bit long, I’m just happy to see lighter writers you all are a blessing thank you for the food 🤲🏼

🍓Hello lovely! Sorry I took so long to get to this, I'm p sure the hype around that fic is over, but this has been on my mind for so long and I just haven't had the motivation. I got some now, though, so here it is! (this is less headcannons and more a whole fic in bulletpoints lol) I hope you enjoy <3

TW: Day after; Alludes to previous sexual intercourse; Grammar Errors

Info: Lighter x Reader; Fluff; Headcannons

-You wake up to sunlight filtering in through the small crack between Lighters blinds, the warmth on your face a kindness that calls you to stir to life. There's a heavy weight across your middle and on your chest, accompanied by a different type of warmth -- human warmth.

-Your eyelids flutter open and, of course, you see your beloved partner Lighter curled up into your chest. He looked so peaceful resting like this, like all his worries had melted away from his mind and into the sheets until he woke up.

-You bring your hands up to play with his fluffy hair, smiling when he huffs a bit in his sleep, burrowing himself further into your chest if that is possible. Even in sleep he was trying to find ways to get you closer to him...

-Though he'd technically gotten you as close as possible last night if the dull ache inside you was telling enough. You could feel the sting in your hips already, and you would certainly limp a little when you got up, but you wouldn't trade it for the world.

-His green eyes blink up at you after a while of playing with his hair, foggy and glazed from sleep. He still finds it in himself to smile affectionately at you, and you can't help but smile back.

-"G'morning beautiful," He rumbles out, voice rough from his moaning last night, "Sleep well?"

-You nod at him, leaning down to press a kiss to his puffy lips in appreciation. That was answer enough for him and he lifted his weight off you in favor of leaning over you.

-He asks you if you're aching anywhere, and promptly massages your hips with the calloused pads of his fingers. The friction still surprisingly pleasant, and the ache in your hips eases up a little. It warms your heart, the amount of care he treats you with.

-He'll coo at you sweetly as he tries his best to ease the pain, mumbling about how much he enjoyed last night. How pretty you are. How much he loves you. How grateful he is you trusted him. All the sweet nothings.

-He takes the morning uncharacteristically slow, having been excused by Caesar apparently, or so he claims. He lazes around with you, happy just to have you in his arms for a while. You do, however, have to get up at some point which he grumbles about when you move to roll out of the sheets.

-You were right about the ache in your hips, you end up limping your way to the shower, and standing for the duration of it sucks. Lighter offers to help you out, but you insist on doing it by yourself (you wouldn't be able to keep your hands to yourself if you'd let him).

-Instead, you let him pick out some old clothes of his to wear, since yours don't exactly smell the best at this point. A too big t-shirt and a pair of sweats that no longer fit him find their way to your arms

-He waits for you patiently, like a puppy locked away from its owner during work hours. It's very cute. He's dressed now, cleaned up by himself while you were gone it seems. He practically leaps to greet you, pulling you into a sweet kiss. You hadn't expected him to be so clingy, but it was incredibly charming.

-He guides you carefully through Blazewood to get breakfast from Cheesetopia -- or, brunch more like it. You figured after your first time you would be a bit awkward, but Lighter didn't allow you any room for that. All was as usual, assuring you that nothing major had changed. Which, why would it have?

-Well... there was one thing...

-Caesar sat in a booth as you walked in, and the grin on her face said it all. She waved you over, and Lighter begrudgingly helped you over. You do your best to hide the limp, though it's absolutely futile with Caesars next words.

-"Have fun last night you two?" She teases, and humiliation washes over you -- Lighter's cheeks also turning a deep red, "No need to answer. We all heard you last night."

-Obviously, everyone around here knew of your relationship with Lighter... they didn't need to know the details. When you don't answer in your fluster, Caesar scoffs and waves her hands playfully. "Just kiddin', I stopped by to check up when you two disappeared. Congrats though!"

-She leaves you to eat after nearly giving you a heart attack, and you happily enjoy what you ordered. Feeling incredibly hungry after the night you had. Lighter doesn't seem to interested in his food, though. Just watching you with that same intensity from last night.

-You ask what's wrong, and he smiles wide at you, "Nothing, just admiring what's mine."

-You don't respond to that, because there's nothing you could say that's nearly as smooth as that.

Bonus:

You had me thinking about the nicknames a lot. I think that he definitely uses babe and baby the most. It's simple and easy to say, and people won't bat an eye if he calls you something like that. But he has other nicknames he uses you, some for specific situations, others just because he likes to switch it up sometimes.

Sugar is something he uses almost exclusively during sex. It's his way of coercing you into letting him take care of you, especially when you're acting all shy like it's an inconvenience. Or when you're afraid to make noise, "Lemme hear ya, Sugar~ Don't be shy~"

Darling is one that's more common to hear him throw out at random. However, it does have a specific use: scaring off other people. When someone is getting a little too friendly, he'll watch for a while until he can't bear it anymore and he has to intervene. He'll wrap his arms around you from behind, press a kiss to your temple, and ask "How're you feelin' Darlin'?" With a sharp glare at the offender

Doll is one that he likes to use to get you to squirm, almost always accompanied by a handsome grin. He uses it more to placate you when you're upset at him in a playful way. Like when his fangirls get a little too excited and upset you, he'll take your face in his hands and hum out, "Y'know they're not even half of what you're worth to me, doll. Stop your worrying."

Pumpkin I hadn't considered, but I think he uses it in private when it's just the two of you. It's a soft kind of thing he uses when you're really warming his heart. Curled up into his side half asleep, you'll hear him whisper it into the crown of your head, "I love you, Pumpkin."

#x reader #zzz x reader #zenless zone zero x reader #zzz #zenless zone zero #lighter zenless zone zero #bunni babbles 🍓#zenless zone zero lighter #lighter #zzz lighter #zzz lighter x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #zzz lighter lorenz #lighter lorenz #zzz lighter lorenz x reader #lighter x reader #lighter lorenz x reader #lighter zzz #lighter zzz x reader

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takes1 · 1 day ago

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i am really in love with the way you write asahi!!!! really looking forward to part 2 of tipsy playfighting with him 😊😊😊

[final part] asahi getting rough with petite!reader

hellooooo thank you so much!!! was thiiiis 🤏close to doing a daddy kink thing, chose not to because that's kind of polarizing. like... pineapples on pizza

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / rough sex / f!rec oral / asahi is the perfect dominant / submissive!reader / aftercare king / fingering / mutual size kink / playfighting kink / rough play kink / power struggle fetish / pseudo-bdsm themes / pet names / mentions of subspace / mid-sex communication / being way too loud / daichi being a great friend / 3.5k words

links. my masterlist. my ao3. more haikyuu. part one here.

'Kind of' made you stall at the top of the stairs.

The second floor, you realized, was all bedrooms. Your legs got heavy, your heart beating like a panicked bird in a cage.

It was ironic. Your ability to handle him downstairs came naturally, but as soon as you had some privacy, it all got intimidating.

Asahi paused after turning the corner. He eased back against the wall with a breath. He glanced to the staircase one more time to make sure nobody had followed you.

"There's nothin' to help with," He laughed, rubbing the side of his stubbly face, "I just- yeah, that was a super lame excuse, actually."

You stood with your hands clasped in front of you, a polite smile, trying to flex all the shivers down. Your crush on him reached its peaks and valleys throughout your years in school together. It reached a happy medium until tonight, starkly reminding you of your old, pushed-down feelings.

He was wicked cute, and that whole performance downstairs was cut too short.

A big breath led to a bigger sigh, "I really wanted to kiss you."

"Me too," You said, with almost no time to let his words settle.

Asahi covered his automatic laugh, and you shared a wholesome moment of mutual, nervous relief.

"Well, uh-," He seethed, eyes up to the ceiling, face much warmer, "If we're being totally honest-,"

The cheers downstairs cut him off. It sounded like Kageyama might have won his match, but neither of you cared.

Asahi suggested, instead, "Should we- go somewhere more private?"

Although you nodded, you weren't sure where he had in mind until he showed you into Daichi's bedroom. You raised your brow, taking in his posters, his books, the layout, feeling a bit guilty that he wasn't in here.

"Oh, I made sure it was cool with him if we- um, talked, in here," He explained.

The supportive body language from those two made infinitely more sense, but you doubted it that ended at 'talking.' You kept your excitement under the surface, for now.

"Right."

He sat on the mattress, a little invested in the feel of the sheets, by the way his hand slid and prodded over the thread count. The ache between your legs was starting to make your whole body cold.

Daichi had those glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling, and you didn't want to leave it up to Asahi to fill the silence, so you tried, "How long do y'think he's had those?"

There were at least 20, you counted. When you looked back down, he was relaxed forward, elbows rested on his knees, with his face in his hands, staring straight at you. Screw the ceiling.

He cleared his throat, his eyes flickered dismissively up, "Oh, um- forever, I'm sure."

Asahi was a terrible liar. You were glad he was honest with you in the hall, because he had zero capacity for beating around the bush. His intentions were spoken for, but now they were transparent in his clouded, almost tormented eyes. He made it seem difficult to look at you without touching you.

"You said you wanted to kiss me, right?" The decision to make it easy for him was met with a huge shift in his expression, an ease you saw, earlier, that spread as he ran his hands along your sides.

A gentle brush of his thumb across your cheek, "I did."

Kissing him was simple- it didn't feel rushed, or confusing, at all. He made it all a pleasant and invigorating experience to follow his lead.

His fingers spread through your hair, at the base of your neck. A strong but soft pull brought you into the warm embrace of his body.

He smelled good- mostly like the aged liquor he was nursing most of the night, but a bit woody, with hint of cashmere. Even his scent made you feel taken care of.

"So," You caught your breath for a second, taking in his face as you tucked some hair behind his ear, "Are you sure Daichi's fine with us- talking, all over his bed?"

The way his eyes lit up during his chuckle made you grin, validated and light.

His lips smushed against yours again. He was lifting you up by the waist, setting you on your back with proud effortlessness. You kept your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, getting your fill of his hair while you could.

Before he could completely forget to respond, he hummed a preoccupied, "Yeahh, don't worry about'm."

A hand pinned yours against the mattress.

All he needed was a little reassurance, and he was no longer the sheepish wimp you knew him to be. For a while, when those hot summer seasons coincided with the throws of your crush, it was fun to imagine what he might be like. Now, there was proof, and he didn't disappoint.

The growing pressure he placed on you kept you flat, and slowly limited your ability to move. It was getting familiar.

You tried to move your hand from under his, unlace it, just to touch him, but it proved impossible.

A small chuckle, a little mutter against his temple as he struck crude kisses down the side of your neck: "Can I have my hand back?"

The skin over his knuckles was tough, and his palms were leathery, firm, from all the lifting he did. His strength alone spoke for his dedication, but you felt pleased to know these intimate details about his body.

Your request was met with your other hand being taken hostage. It wasn't fast, but he did it so naturally that you didn't think to move away.

The look he gave you perfectly represented the edge under his words.

"You want your hands back?"

It was a tease-- a way of telling you 'I know you can't move, but I want to see you try.'

You grew warm under the weight of his subtle, playful pushing-- both between your legs and over your palms.

Robbed of your autonomy, but still finding yourself exhilarated by the reality of his size, and his capacity to use it well, the only thing left to do was play along with him. If he had a real thing for this, you wanted to know just how far it went, how worked up it could get you both.

A tiny attempt to pull your arms closer was met with his easy, slow adjustment to cross them instead, above your head. He kissed you through it, all warm and gentle and kind and safe-- but curiously engrossed in your inability to physically overcome him.

It sent a warm chill down your back- flexed, lingering in another ache between your thighs.

His lips were so soft, and sweet, and light, contrasted well against the slight burn of his stubble.

"Mm-," Asahi sighed, a soft peck to your cheek so he could collect himself, "You're givin' up already?"

The warm spill of his words across your face, plus the thrill of his little challenge, had you squirming, all knotted up and itching for him to give you more than just kisses.

"You--," You tensed at his slow, messy sucking along your jaw, "You-mm! Know I can't move..."

Maybe he was taking pity on you- maybe it was your whiny admission fueling a more licentious desire, inspiring him to let you go so he could start stripping you. You delighted in the chance it gave you to watch his reactions.

Soon, you were fully nude- and he was still fully clothed, with no foreseeable urgency to even the imbalance out.

Instead, he let a hand overlap your waist, eyes still busy scouring over you, "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Dunno," You mumbled, playing with his fingers as you shot a look to his fly, "Maybe you should check."

Your coquettish quip earned a hasty, rough, but amused kiss. You writhed against his weight again, this time with a justifiable anticipation at the sound of him pulling his cock out.

It was hot as it fell against your skin. A welcome feeling of closeness you couldn't get from much else, just being skin to skin with somebody else. It made you feel a bit like melted butter.

He pushed himself up to take his shirt off, all the while examining his length, pushing it down so that he could measure it in relation to your small torso.

"We'll have to, um..." You trailed, a shaky exhale at his burly, tanned physique, "Be.."

The word 'careful' fell apart on your tongue. Now he was measuring his fingers, next to his cock. One hand remained idle wrapped around the bulk of your thigh.

It was indeed fascinating how some body types probably shouldn't try to come together, like you were. Seemed like an evolutionary flaw.

Especially because the look in his eyes was nothing short of carnivorous. It was occasionally batted back by bouts of concern for the logistics of it all.

"I've got a few ideas," He smiled, real handsome, real sweet, down at you.

Curious, you watched all your favorite muscles of his work and relax again as he backed up off of the mattress, standing at the edge of the bed.

In a second, you had been pulled closer, then adjusted in front of him- it left you breathless at the simple ease of it all. You fixed your hair, a glossy and fixated admiration in your gaze up to him.

Awed, you told him in a shaky giggle, "I really like that..."

Asahi leaned over you; a timid and flattered sigh prickling up your skin, "Yeah?"

His rough hands pinched at your hips as he kissed a messy trail down your tummy.

Whispered, just as his knees hit the carpet, "I like it, too."

It was impossible to not get excited. He always stuck you as a guy with more patience than most.

Patient was a good word to describe the way he ate you out-- he may have liked to toss you around, but it wasn't out of carelessness, or negligence. It was an exploration of boundaries, a bit of power play, and this was played right into the dynamic. His performance wasn't perfect, or void of little, silly hiccups, but it was endearing and fun to discover together.

After he got you warmed up, he began slowly, one by one, pushing his fingers into you.

"How's that feel?"

It was a curious, but flirty question.

He already knew how much you were enjoying yourself, how you were trying to keep yourself quiet under your hand, struggling to not roll your hips into his hand. He just wanted to hear you.

A raspy sigh, a distracted nod, "So g-ood--,"

"Takin' me soo well," He grinned, sucking another messy kiss to you, "Y'want another?"

It wasn't exactly audible, but he was watching that sweet, desperate little expression on your face enough to know you did.

You could feel his smile spread- making your thighs flinch, your body curl at the intensity of getting stretched even further.

"You're so cute."

A mumbly admission, buzzing just right onto you. You were so full of him, reeling in how thick three of his fingers were, and dangerously close once he concentrated on your clit.

Soon you were gripping harder, twitching, then squeezing him--, "H-ah-!"

You started begging when nonverbal queues didn't get through.

"Asahi- asahi, please-ah," You huffed, starting to feel your climax rushing in, threatening to take hold of you, "I'm s-o close-!"

You thought he would stop, for favor of dragging this out longer, but he didn't slow down, nor did he let off of you. The only change was his grip tightening, gripping into your skin. A twitch of your thigh, trying to push on him, was met with a powerful pull to keep it far away, to the side and keep you opened up.

The pressure it brought only added to your rapture- he was actively getting off to watching, hearing, feeling you beg for a break. He loved it.

"Mmn-!" Pulling on his hair did you no favors, other than encouraging that slow, constant swirl of his big tongue around your swollen clit.

In the end, the harshness in your brow, in your clawing fingers, your shaky thighs, all softened under his steady hold. He felt so good taking you apart, then bringing you all back together.

Another messy kiss, so sweet- but so mean, shoved you over the steep edge.

He could feel you tighten, pulse around his fingers and filled you to the knuckle; a tipsy, crooked smile barely visible under his working tongue.

It took so long to come out of the throws of your orgasm that he was already back on top, filling the space above you. You quickly locked your legs around him, hands guiding his face up for a kiss.

His knack for multitasking never stopped. You were given so many gentle, attentive kisses as he put you in the center of the bed, where there was finally room for the both of you.

He wanted you on your elbows and knees. Numb, and tingly, and pliable, you let him adjust you the way he wanted; you kept your debaucherous smile to yourself.

You needed every second of that foreplay to take him- he was the biggest you had ever been with. Thankfully, he also happened to be the sweetest.

"Ooh my god," Your trembling was quelled by the weight of his body.

His groan was low, stuttery, at your tight pussy clenching hard all around him.

He caught his breath, a pretty moan in the back of his throat, "Shit."

His praises were loosely strung together, punctuated in little kisses to the back of your head as he placed his elbows on the mattress, at your sides. If he had been watching, he probably wouldn't have lasted very long.

It was getting rough, quickly, but you found his kind attention more than enough to keep you relaxed.

"Mm-!" You muffled a cry, fisting the sheets while he chuckled at how cute all your little sounds were, hungry for more.

In one fluid motion, he had your arms pinned; one was tucked under you, the other was extended far out in front of you. The responsive gasp was more of your body, reacting on its own, but it was an invigorating thing to consider. He was such a timid guy, so every dirty thing he said or did still took you by surprise.

It was just like how you finished your match earlier, with one big difference.

"Mmnh-aAh! Augh-ah-Mm!"

Your surprised, whiny sounds spilled free against the sheets. His cock filled every bit of you- it felt so good your breath was getting shorter, harder to catch.

You couldn't see it, but he drank that messiness up, a furrowed concentration in his brow to keep giving it to you as hard as you needed.

"You like that?" His voice was right in your neck again, buzzed.

It melted your resistance away- you couldn't even squirm, couldn't tell him yes. You were so full, so close already, that when he stalled deep and cruel, to let you think, your euphoria was barely interrupted. You cried, tearless, drooling a little on Daichi's sheets.

"You wanna talk to me, sweetie?"

The kindness in his voice right now should've been illegal. You breath was getting shaky, your vision long since useless.

"T-ell me-mm, how it feels," He muttered, still egging you on, a kiss to the tip of your ear.

His voice fell away from you, your heart pounding in your ears- you were just swimming in delectation. His warmth, his sure delivery of careful pleasure, his gravelly, well-meaning taunts. It was starting to take you far away, for the first time.

You noticed, but didn't react to his retracting hands, nor the readjustment of his weight off of you.

He was deeply troubled that you hadn't responded to him.

If Asahi had been any more experienced or confident, he would've known the clear signs of subspace-- but considering his experience ended at some casual sex, and the absence of conversation, and not understanding of either of your limits, he thought he fucked up, bad.

You were just different. That made him nervous.

Concern laced his voice quick, a sobering sound.

"Hey?" There were a couple taps to your cheek, and when you got your focus back, he was bending to try to get a good look at your face.

You gave a weak smile, "Mm?"

"You okay?"

A big stretch, an otherwise silly invitation for him to put his hands back on top of yours, "Mmmmhm..."

The way you sat back a little, pushing yourself gently onto his cock, made him take a second. A quick moment to suck in a restrained breath. Then a reserved, relieved chuckle.

"Are you- sure?" Was his last attempt. Now he was noticing the shakiness from your legs, your irregular breathing.

He put a tiny peck to your temple, fingers carefully running over your side.

You gave a close-mouthed whine and winced away at the ticklish sensation, "God-- Just fuck me please,"

When he was watching where to put his hands, he noticed your wiggly fingers, and grinned- happy to take you up on the offer, again.

He met your light pushing with stronger, steady strokes that kept you gasping- whiny, with pleasure.

Your endurance was absolute garbage, when it came to his unconventional way of treating you. Neither of you were expecting it to click so well- not as just-friends, for years, with on-and-off separate partners and countless, ill-timed crushes on each other.

It was amusing to think of how different this would make your 'friendship' now. How could you tell the team you were dating, after they watched what was essentially half of your foreplay downstairs?

This orgasm washed over you in shorter, smaller waves than the first- but it took so long to fully crest that it felt a thousand years longer.

You weren't particularly loud, this time, but now that he was paying so much attention to you, he spoke you through it with unparalleled timing.

"Good, fuck- that's good," He sighed, huffy, in your ear.

His hand quickly clasped over your mouth before you could make a sound.

Though you felt so perfect, the little scare you gave him warded off any chance he had at cumming, too. It'd have to wait for some other time. The satisfaction from getting you to this point was more than enough payoff for him.

"Good girl."

You had never felt so disconnected from your own body before. It was like you felt your climax about two rooms down the hall- and all it left you with was some invisible, heavy blanket all across your limbs.

For all that was worth, it was pretty cool.

His quiet shushing, all in your ear, was the evidence you needed that you hadn't been entirely present. You weren't sure when he started and when he stopped.

"You're okay- you're okay," He cooed, thumb gently brushing your warm cheek.

He held you incredibly still, listening, watching, for you, before pulling out.

You felt like a heavy bag of sand.

In fact, after he had shifted slowly off you and leaned closer, the way you slumped down was akin to one. Maybe more of a bag of concrete mix, instead.

It was staggering to believe your sweet, silly, nervous Asahi took it out of you, like that.

"You okay?" He was ultra-gentle, now, sliding featherlight touches over your back.

It was just enough to keep you awake.

"(Y/n)?"

You didn't realize you needed to respond. A slow, laborious sigh. You opened your eyes and were surprised to see him, once again, leaning over you to watch your face.

"Yeah..."

It didn't convince him- he looked like he was going to call an ambulance.

"I'm- tired," You went to push yourself up.

The intense quivering in your arms stopped you. Having to push back against him for so long was exhausting, and now you were completely spent. You wondered if it had anything to do with the little fight earlier, too.

He shook his head when he noticed you try to move on your own again, "Nono, I got you."

For the millionth time tonight, his ability to pick you up, from whatever position he found himself in, left you in a delighted daze. He set you so that you at least had a pillow under your head.

"You need some water? Let me go get some for you real quick."

You did feel pretty dried up. Like a dead, frail flower.

A tiny nod, and he was rushing to put on enough clothes, zipping out the door in search of water. You fell asleep in the short time he was gone, too sleepy to pull the covers over you or to roll to your side.

"Mmh..."

It had only been a minute or so.

But you felt a thousand years old, getting woken up from an ancient slumber, when a soft throw blanket was covering you- a big, gentle hand over top of it, rubbing your shoulder to rouse you.

Asahi settled to your side, watched closely as you drank, and pressed more kisses to the side of your head. He reached over you to set the bottle on the bedside table.

"Thank you," You leaned into him, then decided to give him a little edge of the blanket, too, and rested your head on his chest, "I'm okay."

"Good."

He was warm. You squeezed an arm over him.

"How are we gonna tell everyone?" You mumbled, against his tummy.

"I-... don't think we need to."

Confused at what he meant by that, you stopped trying to burrow into him, and propped up a little to look him in the face.

"Uh-," He tilted his head from side to side, a little warmth on his tan features, "We weren't...exactly...quiet."

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becertainlust · 2 days ago

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bestfriend!sabo who swears he sees you as nothing more than a good friend. A best friend, joined by hip, and all that falls under that spectrum but others never picked up on the friend part.

You were across the clearing, laughing at something Koala said, and Sabo could feel the corners of his lips tugging upward, unbidden. It wasn’t unusual—he always found himself smiling when you were happy. But this time, it was Koala’s teasing words that pulled him out of his thoughts.

“You’re staring again,” she whispered, elbowing him in the side.

Sabo startled, his usual composure slipping for a fraction of a second. “I’m not staring,” he said quickly, his voice just a little too defensive. “I’m just—keeping an eye out. You know how clumsy she can be.”

Koala raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Sure. That’s why you’ve got that dopey grin on your face.”

Before Sabo could retort, you called out his name, waving him over with that bright, carefree smile that always seemed to disarm him. He stood up quickly—too quickly—and tried to ignore the way his palms had started sweating.

“Yeah? What’s up?” he asked as he approached, slipping into his usual casual tone, though his heart was pounding in his chest.

“I need help tying this bandage,” you said, holding up your arm. It wasn’t a serious wound, just a scrape from earlier training, but the way you looked at him—trusting, unguarded—made his throat go dry.

Sabo nodded, stepping closer. “No problem,” he said, his voice steadier than he felt. He took your arm gently, his fingers brushing against your skin.

For a moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you. He was hyper-aware of how close you were, the scent of your shampoo, the warmth of your skin. He tied the bandage carefully, slower than necessary, and when he finished, he lingered for a second too long before pulling his hands back.

“Thanks, Sabo,” you said, your smile soft and genuine.

“Anytime,” he replied, his voice quieter than usual. He shoved his hands into his pockets, hoping to hide the way they trembled.

As you turned back to Koala, Sabo caught himself staring again. He shook his head, muttering under his breath, “Just friends. That’s all we are.”

But the flutter in his chest told a different story.

bestfriend!sabo who doesn't realize when he is jealous yet shows clear signs. It started subtly, like the crackle of a spark before a wildfire.

You were laughing with Haruto again, your head tilted back and your whole face lit up. Sabo’s eyes lingered, drawn in as they always were, but his usual quiet admiration was edged with something sharp, something he couldn’t quite name.

“Are you even listening?” Koala’s voice broke through his thoughts, and he blinked, realizing she’d been talking to him this whole time.

“Of course,” he replied automatically, though his tone lacked its usual easy charm.

Koala followed his line of sight, a knowing grin spreading across her face. “Right. So, you’re not currently plotting Haruto’s untimely disappearance?”

Sabo frowned, rolling his eyes as if the idea was absurd. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, though his hand tightened around the edge of the table he was leaning on. “He’s new. Someone’s gotta make sure he doesn’t screw things up.”

Koala raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. And this sudden hypervigilance has nothing to do with the fact that he’s making her laugh?”

“Her laugh has nothing to do with it,” he shot back, but his words were clipped, lacking their usual carefree rhythm. “I just think he should be working harder instead of standing around flirting.”

Koala snorted. “Right. Because you’re the authority on work-life balance. You spent twenty minutes this morning balancing your pen on your nose.”

“That was stress relief,” Sabo retorted, but his gaze flicked back to you, his composure fraying.

Haruto leaned closer to you, and that spark in Sabo’s chest flared. Before he knew what he was doing, he was already walking toward you, his boots crunching against the gravel.

You noticed him immediately, as you always did, your face lighting up with that smile that had a habit of turning his thoughts into static. “Hey, Sabo! What’s up?”

“Haruto,” Sabo said, his tone as smooth as silk but his eyes like flint. “Didn’t you mention needing to go over the roster with Hack? He’s been looking for you.”

Haruto blinked, clearly taken off guard. “Oh, uh… I guess I should—”

“Yeah, you should,” Sabo interrupted, the edge in his voice unmistakable.

Haruto hesitated for a moment before nodding awkwardly and excusing himself, leaving you standing there with an amused tilt to your head.

“Was that really necessary?” you asked, crossing your arms and fixing him with a look that was equal parts curiosity and exasperation.

“Just doing my job,” Sabo said casually, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking back on his heels. “Can’t have the new guy slacking off.”

“Right,” you said, drawing the word out. “Because you’re always this strict with new recruits.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but the way your eyes sparkled with amusement threw him off balance. He sighed, running a hand through his blond hair. “Okay, fine. Maybe I overreacted. A little.”

“A little?” you echoed, stepping closer. “Sabo, you were practically bristling.”

He laughed lightly, but it lacked his usual confidence. “I just didn’t like the way he was acting so familiar with you. That’s all.”

“And why does that bother you?” you pressed, your tone teasing but gentle, like you already knew the answer.

Sabo faltered, his usual quick wit failing him. He looked at you, the way your brows arched in question, the way your lips curled into a small, knowing smile, and he felt like he was standing on a precipice.

“I don’t know,” he muttered finally, though even he didn’t believe it.

Your smile softened, and you reached out, nudging his shoulder. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

“Am I?” he said, forcing a grin to cover the heat creeping up his neck.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice quieter now. “But I like that about you.”

The words hit him harder than he expected, and for a moment, Sabo was left speechless, staring at you like he was seeing you for the first time.

Koala’s voice called out from across the camp, snapping him back to reality. He cleared his throat, stepping back and shoving his hands into his pockets again.

“I’ve got work to do,” he said, his tone a little too brisk as he turned on his heel. “Stay out of trouble.”

You watched him go, a small smile playing on your lips. And as Sabo walked away, he realized he couldn’t shake the quiet, nagging thought that maybe—just maybe—he was in deeper than he’d ever intended.

bestfriend!sabo who postpones his confession every time, settling with a fear of ruining your friendships.

Sabo watched from a distance as you moved through the camp, always surrounded by people. You were the one who gave advice when someone needed it, the one who patched up a scraped knee or shared a smile with a tired recruit. Everyone admired you—hell, even Sabo found himself caught up in your warmth sometimes, when you weren’t looking.

But lately, it felt like you were slipping further away from him.

"Hey, Sabo!" You waved as you passed him, your smile as bright as ever. He didn’t miss the way your eyes sparkled as you chatted with the others. You were always so kind, so busy with your endless list of responsibilities. It was like the world had discovered how incredible you were, and now everyone wanted a piece of you.

“Busy?” he asked, his tone light, though there was a slight heaviness to it as he watched you interact with yet another group of people.

You paused, looking guilty for a second. "I wish I could stay and hang out, but you know how it is. There’s always something that needs my attention.”

He nodded, smiling back even though a part of him twisted with the unspoken words he kept swallowing. “I get it. Don’t let me keep you.”

You gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes this time, as though you knew there was something he wasn’t saying. “I’ll catch up with you later, alright?”

“Sure,” he said, his voice a little quieter than usual. As you moved on, Sabo stood there, rooted in place, watching you disappear into another conversation. The lump in his throat felt heavier.

He always told himself the same thing.

Not yet. Not now. Wait for the right moment.

But the right moment never seemed to come.

Days passed like this—long stretches where he could hardly find a moment with you alone. You were everywhere, helping others, being kind and thoughtful, making people laugh, lifting their spirits. You were always giving, always there, and Sabo adored you for it. But now, with every shared smile and every lingering conversation with others, he felt his chance slipping further away.

Sabo didn’t want to admit it, but he feared that if he told you how he felt, it would change everything. What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if she starts pulling away because of it?

And then there was the fear of losing his best friend. What if this was just a temporary feeling? What if, after the confession, things felt awkward and strained? He could never let that happen. Not with you.

Still, it gnawed at him. Every time you laughed with someone else, every time you looked so busy that you didn’t have a moment for him, it felt like something was slipping through his fingers.

One evening, after a long day of training, Sabo found you alone by the campfire, the crackling flames casting a soft glow on your face. You looked peaceful, wrapped up in the warmth of the fire, your eyes half-closed as if you were trying to rest.

Sabo hesitated as he stood at the edge of the firelight, his heart pounding. This was it.

“Hey,” he said quietly, trying to keep his voice steady.

You turned to him, that familiar, welcoming smile spreading across your face. “Hey, Sabo. You doing alright?”

He stepped forward, his hands slipping into his pockets. “Yeah, just… thinking about things.”

“You’ve been doing that a lot lately,” you noted, your tone teasing but there was a softness in it too, like you noticed more than he realized.

He opened his mouth to say something, but the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he simply nodded, taking a seat beside you by the fire.

For a long moment, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the crackling fire the only sound between you.

“Things have been busy, huh?” Sabo said, finally breaking the quiet.

“Yeah,” you agreed with a sigh, staring into the flames. “I feel like I barely have time for anyone anymore.”

“You don’t even have time for me anymore,” Sabo joked, though there was an edge to his words he couldn’t hide.

You looked at him, your brow furrowing in concern. “Sabo, I—”

He raised a hand quickly, shaking his head. “It’s fine. I get it. I'm happy that your getting the recognition you deserve it.” His smile was faint, almost apologetic, as if he was trying to brush it off.

But you didn’t let him. You leaned closer, your voice soft. “Thank you punk, and I’m never too busy for you. I’ll always make time for you, Sabo. You know that.”

Your words hit him harder than he expected, and for a moment, he simply stared at you, caught off guard.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quiet. “I know. I just… I guess I miss us, you know? Things were simpler when it was just the two of us. Before everyone else started needing you.”

You tilted your head, studying him with that soft, understanding gaze. “You still have me, Sabo. Nothing’s changed.”

He forced a smile, but his heart felt heavy in his chest. He wanted so badly to believe you—wanted to tell you how much you meant to him, how much more you meant than just a friend—but the fear of ruining it all made his throat close.

“I know,” he muttered. “It’s just… things are different now.”

You reached out, nudging his shoulder with yours. “We’ll figure it out, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

Sabo nodded, swallowing the words he wanted to say. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next time. its fine.

bestfriend!sabo who allowed for the crazies to take over his mind. The days had started to blur together for Sabo. The more he tried to ignore it, the more the tension between you two grew. He could feel it every time you were near—how his heart raced a little faster when your fingers brushed just for you to pass, how the sound of your laughter made him ache.

For weeks now, he had been pushing down the words, burying them as deep as he could. He convinced himself that it was nothing—that it was just some passing phase or a product of their shared long hours spent together. But the longer he ignored it, the more it ate away at him, gnawing at his insides until he couldn’t bear to be around you without feeling suffocated by his own emotions.

And so, he started to pull away.

It started small—a little more space between the two of you during conversations, a slight distance when you would sit together by the campfire or share those moments where you were once inseparable. The subtle shifts didn’t go unnoticed by you, but you didn’t say anything right away.

You didn’t have to. You saw it in his eyes—the way they would briefly glance away every time your hand brushed against his, the way his voice held an unnatural edge when he spoke to you, even though his words were still casual.

It hurt, but you couldn’t understand why he was doing this. You’d always been there for each other, the best of friends, so why was he pushing you away now? What had changed?

Sabo sat alone that evening on a secluded hill overlooking the camp. The quiet of the night surrounded him, but it didn’t bring him the usual peace. His thoughts were like a storm—chaotic, tumbling over themselves, and it was hard to find a way out.

Maybe it’s better this way, he told himself, his fingers gripping the edge of his jacket tightly. If I just stay distant, keep my distance… Maybe this feeling will go away. Maybe I can just be the friend she needs, nothing more. She deserves someone who can be more than that, someone who’s not afraid of ruining everything.

But the more he told himself that, the more his chest tightened. He was so used to hiding his emotions behind sarcasm and teasing, but this—this was different.

He heard footsteps behind him before he saw you, and he stiffened, not wanting you to see the way his hands trembled at his sides.

"Sabo," you said softly, your voice cutting through the night air. "We need to talk."

He turned to look at you, but his eyes were guarded, his usual cocky demeanor nowhere to be found. He forced a smile, trying to act like everything was normal. "Talk about what?"

"You’ve been avoiding me," you said, your eyes searching his face for any trace of the old Sabo, the one who had never needed to put up walls. "You’re distancing yourself, and I don’t get it. What’s going on?"

His heart hammered in his chest. This was it. The moment he’d been trying to avoid. He could see the hurt in your eyes, the confusion, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it—not when it could tear everything apart.

"I just… I’ve been busy," Sabo muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, but it was a lie. You both knew it was. "You’ve got enough on your plate without worrying about me."

Your gaze softened, but there was still a trace of disbelief. "Sabo, I know you. And I know something’s been off. Don’t lie to me. I can take it."

He looked away, his hands clenched into fists in his lap. "It’s just that… I can’t keep doing this."

You stepped closer, your concern deepening. "Doing what?"

"This," he said, the words coming out harsh, though he wasn’t sure where the anger was coming from. "This… whatever this is. I can’t just keep pretending like I don’t feel something every time you’re near me, every time you smile, every time you laugh. But it’s not right, alright? You’re too important to me. I can’t risk losing that."

The confession hung between you both, the weight of it settling over him like a suffocating cloud. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince you or himself, but his voice cracked, his resolve breaking in the face of his own truth.

You stood frozen, staring at him. The pieces started to come together, and as they did, it felt like everything made sense—the way he’d pulled back, the way he kept putting space between you, the way he had been hiding behind false smiles and forced conversations.

"Why didn’t you tell me sooner?" you asked, your voice a mixture of frustration and hurt.

Sabo opened his mouth, but no words came out. He couldn’t find them. How could he explain this? How could he explain how much he cared for you without ruining the one thing that had always kept him tethered to you? The one thing that had always made him feel safe.

"I didn’t want to ruin everything," he whispered. "I didn’t want to lose you."

And then, before he could stop himself, the flood of emotions he had been holding back for so long spilled out. He stood and faced you, his eyes intense, but there was vulnerability in them that you rarely saw. "I thought if I stayed away, if I made it easier for both of us, maybe I could forget… maybe I could stop caring like I do. But I can’t. I love you."

You blinked in shock, your breath catching.

Sabo’s heart twisted in fear. "I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to ruin us."

For a long, excruciating moment, you said nothing. you really tried. But then you stepped forward, your fingers lightly touching his wrist, grounding him.

"You’re not going to lose me, Sabo," you said quietly, the softness in your voice breaking through his fears. you cup his face to look at you brushing under his eyes "and you were not going to ruin us."

And before he could even process what was happening, you pulled him to you, your lips meeting his in a kiss. Sabo’s breath hitched, his entire body melting into your own touch.

The kiss was everything he had been holding back for so long and more—urgent, fierce, and full of an aching kind of need that Sabo had never allowed himself to feel before. His mind was racing, but the only thing that mattered in that moment was the way your soft lips pressed against his. His chest tightened as he pulled you closer, his hands trembling a bit.

The kiss deepened almost instinctively, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that surprised even him. Every inch of him seemed to burn with the realization that this was real. The days that felt like years of keeping his feelings locked away, of pretending he didn't care in ways deeper than just friends, were gone. There was only you.

Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and Sabo couldn’t help but let out a small, breathless laugh against your lips. His hands slid down your back, pulling you even closer.

"Thank you" he murmured before dusting your face in kisses leaving you to giggle under his hold.

#one piece #sabo x reader #sabo fanart #sabo x you #sabo fluff #fanfic #becertainlust #one piece x you #straw hat pirates #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons

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adorerio · 13 hours ago

Text

Whatever you say captain

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haikyuu ! captains and how they plot on fem!reader because who doesn't love a guy that puts in the work

fluffy fluff ~ word count: 1.8k

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Daichi he first met you during 1st year and was instantly hooked. Maybe because it was how you carried yourself or your personality but he knew for sure he would make you his girlfriend. Now just because he met you during 1st year didn't mean he made his move then. Nope, he made it during 3rd year.

Daichi He started small (with the help of Kiyoko and Hachi) first it was compliments.

"your hair looks lovely l/n"

"you gotta tell me how you always make people smile"

"you really are funny l/n"

Daichi then started inviting you to practices because he wanted to show off needed a 3rd opinion on his new move. This was all part of his plan which was to impress you sooo much you would ask for his number. Did it work?

nope

Daichi showing off didn't work neither did his constant compliments so now what was left?

"KIYOKO PLEASE LET ME HAVE HER NUMBERR"

"No, ask for it instead. She likes a guy who has confidence."

and so that's what he was going to do man up and ask for it himself.

Daichi who after class sprinted to your class to catch you and ask for it. When he did make it he saw you talking with your group of friends

"excuse me ladies may I borrow l/n for a moment?"

your friends who started teasing and whispering about how you actually pulled

"shes all yours"

After your friends left it was awkward for just a moment he was trying to put it into words I mean it was supposed to be simple right? But-

"Is there something you need Sawamura?"

"oh right, well l/n I've been trying to court you all year which maybe it was my fault for not being straight forward but is it possible I could get your number? So we can get to know each other and maybe ask you out?"

He scaratched his neck waiting for your response..

"well I'm free right now if you want to come with me to a cafe.."

"that would be lovely then l/n"

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Bokuto he first met you because you were friends with Akaashi. Now he noticed you really didn't have friends to hang out with during break and lunch. So he started inviting you to hang out with him and Akaashi and a trio was created.

Bokuto after a few months of your new found friendship he started getting that feeling. He was always nervouse around you and definitely always wanted to be in your good graces. Of course he didn't realize it was a crush until he saw another 2nd year try to ask for your number. Now he knew he would not let you give your number away to anyone that wasn't him. Even tho he already had it.

Bokuto now his approach to plotting wasn't the best but it was definitely something- scare off any guy until he was your last option. Did he even realize he was being overprotective? No, but it was bound to work at some point. Or that's at least what he was telling himself.

Bokuto It actually took you a while to find out what was happening. After another case of ghosting you started to question it. Was it your appearance? Or the long distance? Of course you would tell your friends about your problem and how you scared away guys.

"Wait so there just ghosting you? They clearly don't know what their missing y/n"

"Yes they just are! I don't even know why it's happening Keiji"

"Its because of me y/n!!"

"Whatever do you mean Ko?"

"Because they aren't worthy of courting you y/n so I tell them to go away"

"Why would you even do that?"

"Because I want to be the person who courts you not someone from Karasuno"

Bokuto got a talking too after his little confession about how that wasn't the way to get your attention but safe to say you did give him that chance and in the future its something you would never end up regretting.

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Oikawa now he definitely thought something was wrong with you. You were never apart of his group of fans and never reacted differently towards him. Games you attended? You would cheer on anyone BUT him. And this, caught his eye. He was gonna make it his mission to get you to go out with him one way or another.

Oikawa since he had never struggled before trying to charm a lady he was more confused then ever how was he supposed to do this? Well the only thing that came to mind was make you feel special. This resulted in you being embarrassed ever single time.

Oikawa every single set he would do during a game? Point you out and give you a wink. During school he would start ignoring his fans and would only talk to his team or you. He always offered to carry your bag or help you with work but you were still warry about his true feelings towards you.

Oikawa hoping he at least he made his intentions clear to you he would now leave small stuff at your desk. Sometimes it was small snacks with a note, or a small tricket that reminded him of you.

Oikawa the way he finally got you to agree on a date was when he gave you a boquet of your favorite flowers. It was special to you because you had only told him once what flower it was and he had still remembered it.

"Here l/nn its your favorite flowers just for you"

"You still rememeber what type of flowers I like?"

"Of course and I'll keep remembering small details about you - like how when your favoring song plays you start forgetting the worlds around you just to pay attention to the lyrics."

Now this had touched your heart, after weeks of chasing you maybe it was time to allow him to ask you out. Because he had clearly put effort into this.

"Fine, just one date trashykawa"

"You wont regret it l/n!"

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Ushijima he didn't even know he was "courting" you until Semi told asked him when he was going to ask you out.

"You know l/n is a sweet girl why haven't you asked her out yet? I'm sure she already likes you."

"What on earth are you talking about? I havent been courting our manager-"

Lets just say it hit him like a brick when he started connecting the dots that it did LOOK like he was indeed courting you.

Ushijima You were the manager of the team and dealing with a group of teenage boys wasn't easy- so he as the captain of the team decided he would be the one to show his gratitude. He would give you chocolates every day after practice or invite you to grab lunch with him alone.

Ushijima after thinking about it for days about how own feelings towards you he decided he was going to invite you on a real date. Because even if he wasnt completely sure about how he felt he wanted to at least give it a try. So, one day after practice as you were cleaning and packing up everything he decided to shoot his shot.

"l/n are you perhaps free this evening?"

"Yeah I don't have any plans. Is there a reason for asking?"

"I was wondering if you would like to accompany me on a walk in the park. It would be nice having someone - you around"

"Sure! let me go get my stuff and I'll meet you outside."

"Yes absolutely, its a date then."

As he walked away you stood there dumfounded, he finally had the balls to ask you out huh.

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Kuroo now he was crushing on you HARD. But, he always found it hard to talk to you. Different group of friends, different hobbies, different clubs there was practically no way to start a conversation without it being difficult.

The 3rd years were preparing for the English final when your teacher suggested forming study groups within the class so you could prepare. Now this was his chance.

Kuroo had to work up the courage to ask you to be his study buddy and when he did you were almost surprised that he asked you but you didn't say no. You moved your stuff to your left so he could sit next to you.

You started asking him what was his strong and week points in English. When he asked the same thing back he wasn't focused on your answers, more like the view Infront of him. The way you talked and the way you explained things was magical.

Kuroo The two of you exchanged phone numbers so it was easier to communicate. You didn't say it was only to text about the final - so he started sending memes he found funny or goofy cat pictures in hopes of it turning into a conversation.

Of course the way you texted back was short and fast but when he sent you a meme of your favorite video game it was like he had found a cheat code. You started geeking out and explained the story and characters to him. Although he didn't know anything about the game it was certainly working and after talking about it until wee hours into the night you decided to call it off and go to sleep.

"Goodnight Kuroo thanks for listening to me yap lol"

"Of course l/n, I'll always listen to you talk."

You hearted the message and he knew this was only the beginning of a new found frienship and hopefully a relationship.

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Kita he never really thought about dating he was always more focused on his studies and vollyball. You were more like a close friend then anything. Sure he thought you were cute but he believed there was nothing there but pure friendship.

"My parents aren't home I guess I'm gonna have to order food.."

"Y/n you cant cook?"

"Nope, my parents do"

"Well I believe I'm gonna have to teach you then"

"yayyy"

Kita 3 times a week Kita would go over to your house (with your parents permission) and show you the basics + a few recepies. He enjoyed spending time with you outside of school but something had changed inside of him. Maybe the proximity but the way you *preferred hair style while cooking* looked on you was mesmerizing.

Kita Knew your parents travlled alot for work and even days without a lesson he would leave a bento on your desk early in the morning enough for the whole day. Even if it was more work added to his plate he didn't mind doing it because it was for you.

Besides, the best way to get to someone is through the stomach.

I swear I don't have a favorite. Anyways that concludes my first post! I'm open to criticism on my writing!

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #daichi x reader #bokuto x reader #oikawa x reader #ushijima x reader #kita x reader #x reader #haikyu fluff #hq x reader #hq fluff #hq fanfic #hq x you

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descendant-of-truth · 2 days ago

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Interesting addendum to this that I wasn't expecting: in the English version of Days, whenever Roxas talks about Sora, he's always clearly framed as a person. "Who is Sora," "I don't even know a Sora," etc.

In Japanese, he initially asks about who Sora is, but then switches to asking what Sora is. And it seems to happen not too long after Xemnas describes Sora as "the connection" between him and Xion.

He proceeds to wonder to himself what Sora is, and who exactly that makes him, before going to ask Axel about it. And during that conversation with Axel, he doesn't say "I don't even know a Sora," he instead just repeats the question of "but what even is Sora?"

Which I think adds an extra nuance to the narrative that gets lost in the official translation. Roxas instinctively thinks of Sora as a person, because why wouldn't he, but none of the answers he gets about him frames him as such. So, perhaps subconsciously, he starts seeing Sora less as a person and more of a mystery, this obstacle to his and Xion's lives that he can't seem to get answers about.

And normally, you'd think Roxas wouldn't fall into this trap, right? He's always been the most adamant about defending Xion's personhood, shouting at people when she's referred to as a puppet or an "it." His whole storyline is about asserting himself in the face of nearly everyone he knows dehumanizing him and trying to take away his autonomy.

Plus, he has Sora's memories! If he remembers things that Sora's done, and things that Sora's felt, how could he not see him as a person?

But I think that's a testament to how insidious the Organization's manipulation is. Roxas and his best friend are discriminated against, they're "othered" in a way that's unfair and it makes him justifiably ticked off. But that's the thing: he knows Xion, he cares about her, and of course he knows himself. He remembers things about Sora, but he doesn't really understand him - we never see him processing the memories he has very well.

So it becomes very easy for Sora to be presented as the "other." He doesn't stand up for Sora's personhood because he hasn't seen it, and frankly, he has bigger things in his home life to care about than whether some random guy he knows random things about is being treated well. Sora, reportedly, is half the reason he has so many problems anyway, and at this point in his life he just wants someone to blame.

It doesn't matter that Sora wasn't personally responsible for anything that happened to Roxas. He doesn't know what Sora did or didn't do when it comes to him and Xion, but everyone's telling him he's responsible, he's the connection, he's the reason everything is happening to him. And so, Roxas's anger is directed at an innocent person, someone who's really not much more privileged than he is, instead of solely at his oppressors.

Honestly, the way Roxas views Sora over time deserves a post all on its own, because it's not even necessarily as straightforward as "and then he saw Sora exactly for who he is once they joined together for a while and he got over his resentment." It's more like, his resentment turned into genuine respect, and then into this weird, resigned hero-worship for a bit, before they seemed to get on equal terms towards the end of KH3.

But my point is, Roxas plays a very interesting role in this pattern of Sora being dehumanized, because he ends up contributing to it for completely different reasons than everyone else, and it's not even on purpose. DiZ and the Organization see Sora as a tool, Namine and especially Riku care more about waking him up than how he'd feel about their methods.

To Roxas, Sora is the reason he lost everything. Sora is "what it was all for," which starts as something he hates, and becomes something that gives him a certain degree of comfort.

Because Sora will be the one to figure it all out, right? He can depend on Sora, just like everybody else, because that's what Sora's here for. He's a good guy, he'll find a way to make things right again.

He ends up being correct, but man. At what cost

Anyone else find it fascinating that whenever we're shown Roxas's feelings through Sora, it's just kind of melancholic and wistful, but the reverse scenario always feels like you just walked into a psychological horror?

Seriously, the way it's presented, it's like we're meant to see Roxas as an old friend that we miss talking to, but Sora - our original "old friend" that we would have reasons to miss - is hardly even shown as a person. The contents of his memories feel less important than the effect they're having on Roxas, which is usually Extreme Distress and/or physical pain.

And it's insane to me because KH1 was so whimsical! The memories that Roxas and Xion are experiencing are literal Disney magic! But the way they're shown, with the fuzzy filters and the glitch effects, sort of removes the emotions you associate with them and makes them come across as eerie and unsettling.

Not to mention, Sora's memories rarely prompt any feelings of happiness, the way Roxas's might make Sora extra fond of the Twilight Town crew... which might say more about how KH1 affected Sora's mental health than anything.

(I personally stand by the idea that the story revisits it so much as an analogy for how repeating events in your head over and over can alter your perception of them)

But like. how wild is it that this series found a way to take its cheerful protagonist, and without changing anything about him, turned him into this constant, unnerving presence that haunts the lives of two other characters?

And I think another reason Roxas doesn't feel like he haunts Sora in the same way is because no one really... treats Sora like a person while he's asleep. He's either a tool or an object of affection, and regardless of which you pick, his feelings are seen as secondary to the goal of waking him up. As a result, the narrative focuses entirely on Roxas and Xion's personhood, and unlike Sora, they never stop being treated like people once they're made inaccessible due to the plot.

It's probably a bit late in the story to bring it up by now, but I still wonder if we'll ever see Sora be upset with Riku for sacrificing people in his name. Sure, it worked out in the end, and I'm not sure if Sora's even aware of what happened (how likely is it that he's properly sifted through all of Roxas's memories at this point?) but there's a list of things he could still conceivably be mad at Riku about that he hasn't processed, and I want this to be one of them

#kingdom hearts #kh2 #kh 358/2 days #kh sora #roxas #analysis #meta #I desperately need Sora and Roxas to have a normal conversation you guys #There is SO much baggage there and they've haven't started sorting out any of it #I wonder if that could connect to the Riku confrontation #Like maybe Sora doesn't feel like he can really talk to Roxas with the Riku situation hanging over their heads #but also he doesn't want to talk to RIKU about it because he just wants things to be back to normal with Riku and ignore everything else #Something to think about anyway

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another-lost-mc · 19 hours ago

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SHATTERED MIRRORS

PAIRING: Solomon x gn!Reader

SUMMARY: Trapped in the Devildom's murky past, Solomon is there to remind you that even if all else seems lost, you still have each other.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: Nightbringer angst. Vague worldbuilding that hints at a darker version of the Devildom. Bittersweet with a hopeful ending. 1k words.

A/N: There's so much in Nightbringer I wish we got to see, both in the past and future timelines, and this is my small contribution to exploring that untapped potential.

Sometimes it’s the little things Solomon does for you that makes you feel loved. No one wants to be ripped from their life and thrown into the past by some mysterious entity for mysterious purposes. The demon disguise you wear, weightless thanks to the complex spells Solomon casts on you before you leave the safety of Cocytus Hall every morning, still sits heavy on your shoulders like a burden. His magic envelopes you and fills you with warmth, a reminder that he’s always there to protect you even when he can’t be.

Because you can’t be yourself when you’re in this strange version of the Devildom, with its cobblestone streets not yet paved, or the line of unfamiliar shops and market stalls that sell food that’s much too spicy (or dangerous) for you to consume. You rush past countless shops and apothecaries, ignoring the tendrils of fear that shoot down your spine when you realize they still sell rare artifacts and reagents collected from celestial beings and human specimens that will be outlawed by royal decree long before the exchange program begins.

You can’t be yourself in this version of the Devildom, not with Diavolo and his faithful butler that are so familiar yet so foreign, younger than when you first met them. Their eyes are sharp and wary as tensions within the realm fluctuate thanks to its newest residents. There’s something guarded yet knowing in their expressions when they see you, and you have to remind yourself that despite the social and political drama surrounding Diavolo’s controversial plans, he is determined to succeed. It’s only now that you realize the lengths he’s willing to go to, and that relentless ambition is laced with the menacing power his title holds. Like every obstacle he’s faced, he weathers this storm with dignity. It’s almost instinct to want to offer your support for him, heartfelt reassurances that he can do this and you are proud of him. Every time you see him now, those thoughts wither like dying flowers on the vine because the Devildom’s prince has never felt more dangerous to you than he does now. You have to suppress the uneasy shudder that threatens to ripple through you each time his cheeks dimple with a lopsided, insincere smile that shows the tip of his fangs.

You can’t be yourself in this version of the Devildom, not in the House of Lamentation that is simultaneously familiar and unrecognizable at the same time. The rooms and hallways are easy to navigate, but you can’t help but notice the walls are covered in different photographs and paintings than the ones you’re used to seeing. The décor is fashionable but strange, reflecting trends of the current time, but it doesn’t feel like the home you’re used to. The brothers haven’t been here long enough so it lacks that lived-in charm: rooms remain intact, not yet destroyed then rebuilt, and familiar scuff marks on the floors and walls have yet to develop. The house still has that lingering musty smell like it was neglected and empty until recently. The bedroom you used to call your own feels foreign, neglected and cold because they’re unused to hosting guests (and you get the feeling guests are very much unwanted). It nearly breaks your heart when you instinctively walk in that direction and one of the demon brothers chides you with undisguised annoyance that there’s nothing over there, the room that needs cleanin’ is this way.

You can’t be yourself around the demon brothers either, not with their strange and unpredictable behaviour that leaves your patience frayed and fight-or-flight response on edge. Not long after you arrive at the House of Lamentation, you can hear Lucifer scolding Mammon from halfway across the house in an unfamiliar language that sounds too beautiful to be native to the Devildom. Even in his anger and frustration and despair, you realize Lucifer’s voice still carries the lyrical cadence of Celestial language, the place he and his brothers used to call home. It’s a harsh contrast to the dark wings and anger burning in Lucifer’s gaze when you see him in his demonic form. Their celestial garb and heavenly features are only memories of a not so distant past, and like Lucifer, his brothers are forced to wear the physical manifestation of their failure – the death of their sister, their shameful fall from grace. Part of you sympathizes with them even more now that you can see the raw aftermath of their demise, but part of you fears them too, the fractured versions of themselves held together with the growing power of their respective sins.

Every morning you wake up, homesick but determined to make the best of things, and Solomon helps you don your disguise and pushes a cup of tea into your hands. Every evening, you trudge back to Cocytus Hall, weary from spending all day pretending to be the attendant of seven unruly demons that look like the demon brothers you know but feel like poor substitutes at best. Solomon is usually waiting in your dorm, greeting you with a kiss while offering a hug and if needed, a shoulder to cry on. You make food together (while you handle most of the cooking and he helps set the table and wash the dishes). Later, you read together on the sofa or talk about the latest gossip or Devildom news, and Solomon updates you on his progress – or lack thereof – of finding a way home. Despite the hopelessness of it all, it feels bearable because Solomon is there to share those burdens and fill your heavy heart with hope. You can rest easy at night, laid down in your shared bed with Solomon’s arm draped over your waist, his gentle snores coaxing you to sleep after him, and no matter how bleak things seem, it feels like a promise that one day, everything will be alright again.