#i knew it was coming but this one is not funny

[takes1]

aaa HI OMG!!!i love ur writing . i ate UP that kuroo x hard-to-get!reader.

i have a req; could youuu… write kuroken x reader nsfw? >< u can choose the gender, established relationship, reader is sooo neeedy, kuroo/kenma both please them together and continuously praise them for taking it all so well…

>_o whatever the answer may be to this,THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME!!!!!

p.1 kenma sharing you with kuroo

hi babes!! love this idea and it came at a good time too. this is a soft continuation of the needy!kenma fic

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / third!kuroo / established relationship / kuroo being so horny for you and kenma / crushing on kuroo / kuroo being rough / adult conversations / angsty smut / porn with plot / heavy petting / ass grabbing / getting walked in on / praise kink!reader / kenma being a great partner / 2.4k words / hopefully just a two-parter / pls reply to be added for next part!

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3.

"Ohh-Hooo-h shit-!"

Kuroo stuttered, eyes briefly getting their fill of that pretty body perched atop his best friend- who was- god damn- far more hung than he would've guessed.

Kenma raised his voice, half-sitting up to help cover you, with an incredulous, "Dude!"

That's right- he forgot that he was just standing there, mouth open under his palm. He was checking out the way you covered your tits with one arm, and attempting to cover your boyfriend with your free hand.

His surprise morphed into a guttural laugh at his honest mistake. He slammed the door closed behind him.

You could both hear a cackling that seemed like it was generated from the walls themselves.

"You okay?"

Kenma's hand cupped your face, cooling your warm skin down. It took you back to what had been a very intimate moment.

The sudden interruption, though nerve-wracking, didn't turn you entirely off like you thought it might. You leaned into his touch, a bit of worry on your brow, but didn't demand any extra coddling.

"I'm- I'm oka-y," You kissed his palm with a shaky sigh.

It didn't need to be a spoken thing; Kenma threw some sweatpants on, careful to keep an eye on you to ensure that was the truth, and slipped out to deal with Kuroo.

Kenma held his aggravation in a more grumpy, rather than wrathful, way. Where most guys would have flown off the rails, maybe keen to pick a fight with him, Kenma shut the door softly. He kept his tone even.

The taller of the two knew it was serious when he kept steady eye contact. That didn't necessarily mean he would suddenly stop finding the situation funny, but he respected -or, at least tolerated- the idea of privacy and 'territory.'

"Why are you here?" He mumbled, accusatory.

Kuroo raised his hands with a shrug, then let them flop to his sides in a defensive motion, "I was checking on you! It sounded like you were having a heart attack over the mic,"

"-I had no idea you were..."

His looked right through him, trailing over your lingering form in the door. He bit back a smirk.

It was such a prestigious opportunity at his fingertips. If he played his cards just right.

Kenma followed his eyeline to you, clad in his shirt that barely touched your thighs if you stood up straight. Good thing you were leaning on the frame, pulling a little on the hem, waiting for him to come back. His groin ached with the need to cut this short.

His voice lowered at your presence, "-Having so much fun."

The suggestive tone, worsened by the filthy expression that always made him look somewhat guilty, had you both warm at the topic.

"Well, thank you-," You were little raspy from what you had been doing, and moved forward to put a supportive arm around Kenma's waist, slowly pulling him back towards the bedroom, a little 'Let's Speed This Up.'

"For- um, checking on him."

Your partner couldn't help but smile, a soft and distracted look on his face as he turned to press a kiss to your cheek.

Physical touch, PDA, all wasn't a big deal to Kenma. It was how he loved, both with you and his friends. Kuroo had been an enthusiastic witness to some pretty raunchy stuff, over time.

Even a blind man could see that you two were checked out of this conversation already. You moved back into the bedroom, that shirt simply not enough fabric to cover your ass.

Before you could tell Kuroo 'Thank you,' one more time, he put a hand against the door.

He wedged half of his body in, like he was trying to squeeze into an already crowded elevator. You stayed standing just a little behind Kenma- not because you were threatened, but mostly because you didn't want to get in the way of their conversation. It felt like this should stay between two long-term friends. To make matters worse, the way you felt about Kuroo was confusing, and you weren't ready to dissect it yet.

"Ah-haha, you know," He laughed at himself, unable to find the right thing to say for the first time in a while, "I- I...I joke about it a lot-- but,"

He cleared his throat, mostly looking to see if Kenma was going to stop him, in the midst of what you all knew he was going to say.

"If you're looking to... 'spice things up,'" His nervousness was secondary to that cocky smirk across his jaw, "I know a guy who's available right now."

The 'You need a third?' joke was replayed so much that you and Kenma had grown desensitized to it. Now, it was catching up to you. You wished you had talked about it, sooner.

Satisfied with leaving Kenma to speak, you looked away, but realized all your toys were still out. The sight made you squirm, hoping Kuroo had not noticed (he did), and when you looked up- they were both staring at you.

"What?" Was so quiet that it was barely a word- so you swallowed and gave a panicked look to Kenma, whom you trusted, and figured would handle this in a conventional 'No, thank you' way-, "Why are you--?"

He wasn't so confident, especially not as sure as you'd have preferred, "I mean... It- doesn't sound too bad."

It felt like a test.

"Sweet," Kuroo laughed and stepped further inside- the only one able to be so lighthearted, with no difficult questions to consider.

"Wait-wait, wait, are you--," You were trying to decipher Kenma's passive demeanor here, "Are you serious? He's your friend."

Kenma nodded slowly, eyes closed, "I know."

He sighed, and made sure to be gentle with the way he worded this and the way he delivered it. It still felt like a knife to the stomach when he turned to you, took your hands, and said:

"But, I know you like him."

Heart racing, you looked both guilty and upset, and though you tried not to look at Kuroo, you couldn't help it. He was standing still, arms crossed, with one hand covering his mouth in concentration at the scene playing out before him.

"Hey," Kenma brought your attention back to him, "Hey, I'm not upset about it- look at me, baby."

You had to sit down. How could he know that, when you didn't- at least not yet? That wasn't what you had deemed it to be. In the midst of your conversation, Kuroo quietly slipped out of the room once more to give you both some emotional space. He did not mean for it to get that serious.

You were so faint that it was difficult to hear you, even standing right in front of you. He held your face in his hands and attempted to rub your stress away.

"I wouldn't say that, exactly--," You took a shaky breath in, and tried to find the right way to word it, "I think he's- attractive, I guess, but you know I love you. You're mine."

Kenma kissed your forehead a few times, relatively unbothered, "I know. And- I love you too. A lot."

You both smiled at one another and found comfort there.

"I'm just saying... It's okay to like him, too." He was the only one who could eye contact. The concept of it bothered you, but you liked the way you were being acknowledged, and validated.

"I promise."

His thumb brushed your cheek, and he caught another pretty, but still repentant, smile.

"It doesn't bother me," He asserted one more time for good measure, and let his lips fall onto yours.

It was warm, and kind, and soft- an 'I love you, no matter what,' in physical form.

His hands shifted, gentle and slow, up into your hair, his tongue swiped across your bottom lip before sucking on it, just to close out the kiss.

"We-," You lost your breath, so you took a moment to catch it, as he straightened back up, "Um- we don't have to, if you don't want to."

Five feet away, Kuroo was silently punching the air, absolutely geeking over the possibility that after all of that, there was still a chance he wouldn't get to fuck.

Kenma wiped his mouth of the trail of spit you hadn't caught in time, a little raise on his brow.

"I just wanna try this out."

He sounded so sure. Like he was only waiting to check that you were game, first. Where was the hesitation for him? Was this something he had already worked through, on his own time?

You watched him adjust, then rub a hand on the back of his neck.

He called to Kuroo.

His head peeked through the door, "Are you guys- uh, all good, ooor?"

Kenma opened the door wide for him. Their body language was just a little off. You couldn't tell exactly how, other than the energy between them as they looked each other over. It certainly wasn't aggression, like it had been before your conversation.

Kuroo stepped inside, rubbing his palms together, a big grin on his face.

"Good to see that you made the right choice."

Two big, rough hands had you by the middle so easily, so casually, that it startled you out of your wits. The instant reaction was to shut him down like you usually did. You pushed on his forearms with an awkward laugh.

He kept you plastered to his front after a small struggle, hand guiding your chin. Having to look up was new.

"Wooah- I know your little boyfriend just said you were into me-," His lids were low, and his grip was so strong that it made you weak in the legs, "So don't act all shy."

Kuroo was only single because he couldn't keep his attention limited to just one person. There had been countless times in the past year of dating Kenma that his girl trouble was the talk of the school; so-and-so was upset with what's-her-name because she was distracting Kuroo in class. Or, he was being too touchy with his girl-best-friend while trying to juggle two others in secret.

It was a good reminder that too much attention could spoil an otherwise great, fun-loving, guy.

In your attempt to look away towards Kenma- sweet, familiar Kenma, you finally felt his comforting presence behind you.

"Well," His hands trailed over your hips, eyes downcast at the way your ass was poorly hidden in his shirt. He hiked it up, a warm palm squeezing the fatty muscle there-- you couldn't help but slip your arms around Kuroo, hiding your warm, embarrassed face in his shirt.

"She's normally pretty shy."

You felt the bass in Kuroo's chuckle resonate through your chest, and remembered how surprised you were a year ago to hear him speak. He had a voice that always felt a little too deep.

A hand massaged through your already messy hair, grounding you.

His interested, "Oh, yeah?" made you clutch his muscular back.

Kuroo watched from over your head, fisting more of that shirt up to your mid back, as Kenma pressed his clothed hard-on between your supple flesh.

It felt exhilarating, both having somebody to hold onto and a dirty observer to all your bedroom activities. Kuroo's cock was already firm, trapped under his clothes, against your tummy. That didn't stop him from grinding into whatever he could.

The height difference would seriously take some adjustment. You and Kenma could fuck standing up-- you would need a step-stool for his bigger friend.

You gasped at his another hand gripping your ass, harder, sharper than you were used to. Kenma felt so good, even confined, grinding against your folds.

"Mn-!" Was muffled into Kuroo's t-shirt.

It should've been no surprise that he fisted a handful of your hair to make you look at him again.

You shut your eyes, resisting his hold, because you couldn't stand to look at him in this context. It was too new.

Instead of letting you go, he gripped you harder, eliciting a short, "A-ah!"

He took advantage of that, too, and tried to steal the kiss that he felt owed. But you turned your head at the last second and made it into a sloppy, unfinished cheek kiss. The remnants of which remained smeared across your warm cheek.

A defeated, audibly frustrated sigh-- he lost his grip on you, and in the process, you pushed him away.

Kenma pulled you close and out of Kuroo's arms. Onto his own chest, instead.

"The fuck?" Was a pitiful groan, and a look that you were embarrassed to receive, from Kuroo. He palmed himself freely, but stared at you like you broke some sacred pinky promise.

He ran a hand through his hair, stressed, and motioned to Kenma, "I thought you said she was into me. This- this isn't 'into' me. This is- is- like, fuckin' scared of me."

"She is into you-," His grip was soft, and nice, and though firm, it was still reassuring under your shirt.

Kenma laughed, thinking, as he kissed the side of your head. You still couldn't bring yourself to look at Kuroo, but you still found the strong desire to show off in front of him.

"Man, you're just--," He sighed, about to finish his thought.

"Just what?" Kuroo insisted, pissed off.

"You're too rough. Just... slow it... down."

Kuroo's hands rubbed down his face, brow working hard- he looked completely out of sorts, all frazzled and distressed.

An uneven tone, still worried as he tilted his head down, sideways, at you.

"O-kay, okay- yeah, I can..." He blew out a breath, "I can be... gentle."

As Kenma slowly peeled his shirt off of you- turning you around to face his best friend- revealing everything he ever wanted to see under that stupid uniform- his mind was made of stone.

He was not going to leave without touching you, tasting you. Kuroo lost a bit of feeling in his legs; he swallowed, dry, and nodded like a dumbass, over and over again.

"Yeah...Yea-h, I can slow it down for ya," He mumbled, mostly in an attempt to hype himself up. He pulled his shirt off by the back and closed the distance, with a different approach this time.

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

my masterlist. more haikyuu.

[cruel-seduction]

If I get more pretty? 

Content Warnings: Mild cursing, angst, emotional vulnerability, themes of insecurity, and crying.

Summary: You and Mattheo have been keeping your relationship under wraps. But when doubts and insecurities begin to creep in, you find yourself questioning your worth. Mattheo, however, won’t let you suffer in silence. He’ll fight through any storm—no matter how many times he has to face it—because the one thing he won’t ever allow is for you to feel unloved. And when it comes to loving you, he’s unstoppable.

Glimpse - You smirked, your lips quivering as you raised an eyebrow. “Don’t speak too much, Riddle. Or I might just impregnate you.”

He withdrew his hands from you in mock horror, covering his body as if you’d just said the most scandalous thing in the world. “I knew it,” he said, feigning shock, “You only want me for my body.”

a/n - I am writing this while I am in metro and I forgot to bring my headphones and there is a really cute guy sitting next to me who also have dimples and he looks like a nerd cause he is doing some maths equation and he even smiled at me so I am fucking happy.

The sun hung low on the horizon, its amber rays stretching lazily across the Black Lake, casting a soft, golden glow over the rippling water. You were sprawled out beneath a towering oak tree, its ancient branches providing just enough shade to temper the warmth of the evening. Your back rested comfortably against the rough bark, while Pansy’s head lolled casually on your shoulder. To your left, Mattheo sat close, his presence grounding you in a way you didn’t quite understand but had come to crave.

You weren’t exactly close friends with the group gathered here. Pansy was an acquaintance at best—though her sharp wit and biting humor had grown on you—but Mattheo? He was your secret. Your boyfriend. A relationship that defied logic and societal expectations. On the surface, you and Mattheo were opposites: you, measured and reserved; him, chaos wrapped in dark allure. You had loathed his reputation once, the stories of his recklessness and destruction, but now you knew the truth—the tender boy beneath the mask, the one who would move mountains just to see you smile.

Still, it was your idea to keep things private. “Private until permanent,” you had insisted, brushing away his protests with a laugh. “People are too eager to cast their evil eye.” It wasn’t that you didn’t want the world to know. You did. But you couldn’t shake the instinct to protect what was precious to you, even if the irony of shielding someone as notorious as Mattheo Riddle from harm didn’t escape you.

Your voice broke through the tranquil atmosphere as you finished recounting a story, one that had the group doubled over in laughter. “It’s not that funny, you assholes,” you muttered, though a smile tugged at your lips. “I’m actually concerned about it, okay? Like, it’s true, but still…” You rolled your eyes, your chuckle mingling with the fading laughter. Eventually, you let your head rest atop Pansy’s, her dark curls tickling your cheek. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Mattheo watching, his dark gaze fixed on where Pansy leaned against you. His jaw tightened ever so slightly, and you couldn’t help but suppress a grin. Jealousy suited him.

As the laughter ebbed, Blaise leaned back on his elbows, a smirk playing on his lips as he turned to Mattheo. “So, Riddle,” he drawled, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “What’s the deal with that redhead who’s been mooning over you?”

Mattheo’s brow furrowed, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. “What redhead?”

“Oh, don’t play coy,” Blaise replied with a laugh. “You know exactly who I’m talking about. The redhead—absolute knockout—who’s been fawning over you.”

“She doesn’t,” Mattheo said firmly, his tone laced with mild irritation. “She just assumes we’re friends.”

“Friends, huh?” Blaise quirked an eyebrow. “Let me enlighten you, Riddle. Do women usually parade around in barely-there clothing for their so-called friends?” His teasing earned him a sharp slap to the back of the head from Pansy.

“Any girl can wear whatever she damn well pleases,” she snapped. “And it doesn’t have to be for anyone, let alone a man. And If I hear you say such nonsense I will chop your dick and feed it to that three headed dog, you understand?”

Blaise rubbed the back of his head, chuckling. “Alright, alright. I am sorry, ma’am. But come on, Mattheo. She waits for you at Quidditch practice every morning. Five a.m., mate. No one studies that hard in the field when we’ve got a perfectly good library. She’s practically throwing herself at you.”

Theodore, lounging nearby, chimed in with a smirk. “I have to agree. She’s got a killer figure. Honestly, Riddle, she seems tailor-made for one of your infamous one-night flings. Speaking of which, you’ve been suspiciously… alone lately. Someone caught your eye?”

Before Mattheo could respond, Pansy interjected, her tone light but edged with sarcasm. “Please. Mattheo fawning over just one woman? Not possible. It’s probably against his DNA or something. The man’s practically programmed to bounce from one hot girl to another.” She leaned back, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. “And some of those girls, I’ll admit, are downright smashable. Even I’m tempted sometimes.”

The group laughed, the conversation shifting seamlessly to lighter topics, but their words lingered, carving fissures in your confidence. Their teasing shouldn’t have bothered you—you knew Mattheo’s heart belonged to you—but doubts began to creep in, unbidden and persistent. Were you enough for him? Did he deserve someone better, someone more dazzling, more suited to his world?

The thoughts gnawed at you until you felt a warm hand slip over yours. Startled, you turned your head to find Mattheo watching you, his gaze impossibly tender. His lips curved into a small, genuine smile, one that spoke of unspoken promises and quiet devotion. You mustered a smile in return, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

And Mattheo noticed.

He always noticed.

Later that evening, you made your way back from the library, your bag slung lazily over your shoulder and your thoughts preoccupied. Mattheo had skipped your study date, and though disappointment gnawed at the edges of your mind, you reasoned it away. He was probably busy with Quidditch practice—the final match was looming, and the pressure was mounting. He’d make it up to you after the match, you told yourself, because that’s who he was. He always found a way to make things right.

Still, the morning’s conversation lingered, casting a faint shadow over your thoughts. You didn’t want to overthink it—it wasn’t worth ruining your mood—but the words from earlier replayed in your head like an unwelcome echo. To distract yourself, you silently recited the lyrics to a song, focusing on the rhythm of your footsteps as you made your way toward your dorm.

And then, just as you turned a corner, you saw them.

The sight froze you in place, a wave of nausea churning in your stomach as your heart plummeted. There he was—Mattheo—standing with a girl so breathtakingly beautiful it felt like the universe was mocking you. Her golden hair fell in perfect waves, her face framed with elegance, her height poised like a model stepping off a magazine cover. She was flawless. Perfect hair. Perfect face. Perfect everything. She was everything you weren’t.

Your chest tightened as you watched her lean toward him, her laughter like a siren’s call, and bile rose in your throat. You wanted to scream, to curse her, to tear her apart with the fire burning in your chest. But then the sharp edge of reality cut through. Was she really at fault? She didn’t know. To her, Mattheo was just another unattached, impossibly attractive boy. It wasn’t her fault she was flirting with someone who everyone believed was fair game.

Still, your gaze locked on her hand as it brushed his shoulder, and the lump in your throat grew harder to swallow. He moved his arm away, subtle but deliberate. Yet your mind refused to accept it. Why wasn’t he doing more? Why wasn’t he stopping her outright, shutting her down completely? Did he… like the attention? Or worse, did he realize he was better off with someone like her? Someone perfect?

The thought shattered something inside you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you stood there, frozen, watching the scene unfold. The voice in your head whispered cruel truths: He deserves someone better. Someone who fits his world. Someone who isn’t you.

You loved him so much it ached, but wasn’t love about sacrifice? About letting go? You told yourself it was. And so, that’s what you did.

For the next week, you committed to what you bitterly called your “stupid mission” of letting him go. You ignored Mattheo at every turn, cutting off the moments that had once been routine—canceling dates with feeble excuses, skipping his Quidditch practices where you used to show up just to watch him, even avoiding the places where you knew you might run into him. If he was better off without you, you wouldn’t stand in his way.

But boy, you were so wrong.

Which is how you ended up here, in the dim light of an abandoned classroom, your back pressed against the cold stone wall. His dark eyes burned with intensity, locking onto yours as he caged you in with both hands planted firmly on either side of your head. His body radiated heat, and the tension in the air was palpable.

“Mattheo,” you hissed, shoving at his chest, though it was futile against his unyielding strength. “Let me go.”

“Not until you tell me what the hell is going on,” he snapped, his voice low and rough. “You’ve been avoiding me all week. Canceling on me. Ignoring me. And don’t even try to lie, because I know you’ve been doing it on purpose.”

You glared at him, your hands curling into fists as you shoved at him again. “It doesn’t matter, Mattheo. Just—just let me go, fucker.”

“It matters to me,” he growled, his face inches from yours now. “You don’t get to just disappear from my life and act like it’s nothing. Tell me what’s going on.”

Tears pricked at the edges of your vision, but you blinked them away, refusing to let him see you break. “Why are you here?,” you choked out, the words slicing through you like broken glass. “You certainly were enjoying that blondie’s attention..”

Mattheo’s brows furrowed, confusion giving way to something deeper—something that almost looked like heartbreak. “Blondie who?”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat threatening to choke you. “The girl from the last week. The one for whom you cancelled our study date for—”

But before you could finish, Mattheo leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper that sent shivers down your spine. “Stop.” His hand found yours, his grip firm but gentle. “You seriously thought I would cheat on you?”

Your breath hitched, the fight draining from you as his words sank in “But—”

“You don’t even have this much trust in me?” His voice cracked, barely above a whisper, the hurt and disbelief evident in every word.

You shook your head, tears streaming freely now. “No, Mattheo, it’s not about trust. It’s about reality. You deserve better. Someone like her—perfect body, perfect everything. And I don’t think we’re meant for each other. I’m not perfect, not even close. So, it’s not that I think you would cheat,” you choked on the words, your heart breaking with every breath, “but I think you’re better off with her.”

By now, your sobs had overtaken you, the rawness of your feelings too much to contain. You were crying—really crying, like you hadn’t in years. Mattheo’s expression shifted from confusion to something deeper, darker, as he moved towards you.

Before you could even react, his hand found the back of your neck, his touch cold against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. His other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you close, as he pressed your head to his chest, the steady beat of his heart grounding you. His lips brushed over your hair, his voice low and insistent.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” His words were like a punch to the gut. “Don’t pull this movie bullshit on me, babe. That I deserve someone better? Cause we both know that I don’t. Come on, I don’t. I have more than enough. I have you. The fucking real goddess.”

You felt his arms tighten around you, his words sinking into your soul. “I don’t believe in reincarnation or any of that shit,” he continued, his voice softer now, “but I do think I’ve done something right in this life, something good, because I get to be with you. And trust me, baby—you and I are the only endgame. At first, I thought this was just some fling, but now? A day without talking to you feels like a waste. And I want to say some romantic shit like I’ll be with you even if the whole world is against you, but fuck that. I’m not weak, baby. I’ll kill anyone who dares go against you. Do you understand?”

A strange, tearful smile tugged at your lips as you looked up at him. His hand ran up and down your back, comforting, reassuring.

“I know now’s not the right time to say this, but you’re getting your snot all over the only clean dress I have, baby.”

You lightly slapped his shoulder in mock annoyance, but the tension in your chest began to ease. He made you laugh, even in the midst of everything. You pulled your face back to look at him, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. The kiss was slow and soft, unlike any other kiss you’d shared. It was filled with something tender, something fragile, as if he was holding you close, afraid that if he let go, you might vanish.

When you finally broke the kiss, his gaze was fixed on you—his eyes filled with an intensity that spoke volumes. You could see it, clear as day: he was yours, and you were his. You were the endgame.

“You think I’d waste my time with anyone else when I have you?” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Baby, you’re the only person who can handle all of me—the good, the bad, and the downright shitty. You believe in me. You worry about me when I get sick. You scold me when I’m being an idiot. And most importantly, when I look in your eyes, all I see is love. Not fear. Not ‘Riddle’s son.’ Just me.”

You smirked, your lips quivering as you raised an eyebrow. “Don’t speak too much, Riddle. Or I might just impregnate you.”

He withdrew his hands from you in mock horror, covering his body as if you’d just said the most scandalous thing in the world. “I knew it,” he said, feigning shock, “You only want me for my body.”

And you laughed, the sound of it echoing in the empty room, light and carefree, a stark contrast to the heaviness that had settled earlier. But it didn’t matter.

Mattheo Riddle, for all his faults, his arrogance, his unpredictable nature—he was yours. And you loved him. Maybe love wasn’t about letting go, after all. Maybe it was about holding on, cherishing what you had while it was still yours. Because if you had to let go of your love, then maybe it wasn’t meant to be in the first place.

Main Masterlist || Divider - @bernardsbendystraws

[retiredteabag]

Unknown Rivals

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader

Synopsis: There was only one thing worse than being paired with Sukuna for an important school project, and that was realizing the slacker somehow had a higher class standing than yourself.

Tags: Academic rivals, enemies to eventual lovers, type A reader, mentions on anxiety.

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - next part

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

You had been partnered with Sukuna for weeks now, and you were starting to lose it. After turning in your draft for the final presentation, you had learned of your classmates status as a student.

After having assumed that every meeting the two of you held was more of a free tutoring session for the lazy man, it would turn out Sukuna was the only student in class who was rivaling your own grades.

After this information had been absorbed, you left class without so much as a glace the boy's way.

It killed you to know that he was so nonchalant, that he barely put any effort into class and work yet he was up there with you.

He likely thought you a fool, all that time "teaching" him, he probably spent mocking you.

You couldn't help the flood of thoughts that overtook you, thoughts of him mocking you to his friends, thoughts of him screenshotting your messages to send to some group chat, thoughts of him making jeers at your intellect while you explain a concept ad nauseam.

Oh, how you hated him.

It didn't help that you so desperately craved approval from others. Teachers, friends, parents. You wanted it all. If you hadn't their validation, what did you have?

You worked tirelessly to earn the grades you maintained, even if people teased you, called you stuck up, or a sycophant. Was it so wrong to want to be liked?

And here he was, above it all, putting little to no effort into his work and still coming out on top.

He must have found it real funny. Probably had a good laugh every Friday when you met to "work" on your project.

That is why you found yourself writing up a short email, explaining how you no longer had an interest in meeting with him to prep. Requesting he develop his final presentation alone and informing him that from that day forward you would research, write, and present separately.

You hadn't even requested he send in his work for your review, though he had never done it before. No, you would do your part as far away from Sukuna as you possibly could and hope he never looked your way again.

This project was a big deal, you would be presenting it not just to your classmates and professors, no, but company stakeholders as well. They would be coming out to the auditorium to see students speak during finals. Some might even be looking for possible interns.

Apparently Sukuna knew what he was doing so maybe you didn’t need to monitor his work.

You were still going to stress about it though.

--

"UGH! I just cringe to think of every conversation. Why was he even meeting with me?"

You and your roommate had gone out for dinner and you were regaling her with the woes of your school project while she dipped her fries in a generous coating of milkshake.

"That boy looks like he's never held a coherent thought in his head, I doubt he cared to spare any consideration to something other than himself." She spoke with her mouth full, taking another bite, "He looks pretentious."

She wiped her fingers off on her jeans and reached for another handful of fries.

"But that's just the thing" You sigh, "he looks like he wouldn't handle complex thought but-" you're cut off by her giggle but you push onward, "-I'm serious! But he's apparently some wonder boy, a reeeeeal academic." You end your thought with a huff, dipping a nugget into some ketchup, and finishing your meal.

"Well now your Fridays are free, that's nice at least." She shrugs and all you can do is nod. "Who would have thought popular Sukuna is a nerd like you."

"He's not a nerd." You point a finger at her, "He doesn't even study! And I don't get why everyone likes him, he pays nobody the time of day."

"Are you kidding me?" She makes an incredulous laugh, raising her browns.

"What?"

"You haven't the slightest clue why he's so popular? Have you seen the man?"

As much as you hate to admit it... she was a little right. He was undeniably attractive. And his tattoos stretched across his body in a way that made him look like art. He wasn't a peacock either, flaunting himself, he seemed indifferent to the whole thing. He really was just one lucky bastard.

I seriously hate that guy.

--

The next week was filled with your typical busyness, avoiding your project partner didn't really occupy too much space in your mind, especially since he hadn't taken the curtesy to even respond to your email.

That was why, when you eventually saw him straighten his posture the second you entered the shared class, him stalking your movements carefully, you couldn't help but feel frustrated.

Did he say anything? No. Did he try to get your attention? No. But he kept looking at you, and every so often during the lecture, you could feel his gaze in your direction. Serving to annoy you further. He could pay no attention in class and still catch up to your academic level.

Stop being a distraction.

Ugh.

--

After the last fiasco with this professor, you weren't exactly looking forward to sharing a word so you found yourself packing up the moment class was over. It hadn't even taken you putting away your folder for you to feel a hand on your shoulder.

"Hey."

You narrowed your eyes in his direction. Sukuna spoke.

"We should probably discuss the presentation."

This might have been the most you had ever heard him say at a time. About school or otherwise.

"I sent you an email, you know?"

You shuffle your bag to fit everything comfortably and zip it up. Continuing on, "We already split everything up, if you'd like to see my slides so you can match my format you'll find them in the email I sent." You swung your bag over your shoulder, "Last week."

You were making your way to the classroom door, fully prepared for him to shrug it off, but he seemed to have kept up with your pace, speaking down into your ear as you made it to the threshold.

"I've looked over your slides. That's not what I'm talking about." He followed behind you, opening the classroom door wider to stand next to you.

"Sukuna. I emailed you. I've emailed you several times. What about our project do we need to discuss that you couldn't have just emailed me about?" You try to keep your voice down, your professor was still at his desk.

"Shouldn't we... I don't know, be practicing?" He shrugs.

"...What?"

"Practicing? For our presentation? I don't know, I figured you would be the type to want things to flow smoothly."

You pull back, "I do want things to flow smoothly, like I already stated in the email, I am going to present first, then wait for questions, and then you'll go and do the same."

He raises a brow, "I got that." The way he looks at you and speaks so patronizingly distinct as if to suggest you were the slow one. "I'm just saying, we should practice at least once, I want to make sure you can do it."

It took you a moment to understand what he had just said. No way, NO WAY he had just suggested that YOU didn't know what you were doing. You bark out a laugh. "I'm sorry? You want to make sure I can do it?"

He stands still, looks up at the ceiling, and hums, "Well, you're so anal about stuff, I figured you'd want to."

You can hear the blood pounding in your ears, "I'm sorry I like things to be done right." You swing your bag a little more aggressively. "I'll send you my presentation notes so you can make sure I can do it."

You start to march down the hall, offended by his lackadaisical insults when he swoops up to you in just a few strides. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying.... wouldn't it soothe your anxiety to go over it together? I don't think it's wrong to suggest that we would do better after having gone over it at least once."

Oh sure, he was thinking about your anxiety, how kind. You roll your eyes.

You saw him out of your periphery and clutched your bag to your chest as he approached. When you turned to see him he had his arms raised in defense. "If you really care so much I'll add my slides to the presentation and send it to you."

"Good." You swung back. "I've only been asking for," you roll your eyes, walking backward to one of the campus exits, "oh, I don't know, weeks?"

"Fine." He huffed, squinting at you, "But we seriously should go over it so I can be sure you don't ruin my work with your public speaking." He was smirking at you, you had never seen that look on his face and you hoped never to see it again.

"Oh-" You gasp, "my gosh." You stomp away, whipping out your keys, "Thanks Sukuna, I'll try not to ruin all your hard work since you're such a team player."

That man was dead to you.

--

You would never say it to his face, but as finals approached, you were beginning to feel the typical sickness in your stomach. You made recordings of your note cards to listen to at night, practiced your speech endlessly, and changed the batteries in your clicker at least three times.

You had always been anxious, memories of puking before tests as a child still live on in the churning of your gut. This anxiety helped to motivate you but was unnecessarily intense, your own mother had told you to loosen up in the past but that was simply not something you were capable of controlling.

"Well, you're so anal about stuff-"

Oh, that man pissed you off. And after all that effort to seem cool and composed in all of your "tutoring" sessions, he could still tell that you cared. Cared more than you should.

You would never be the cool girl.

And this was why you were growing more upset with the understanding that you felt- you knew you really would feel better if you could just have the chance to practice your speeches.

But your pride had gotten in the way.

Couldn't he have just said that he wanted to practice instead of making it seem like he didn't believe in you?

His email did come, by the way. No words, just an attachment.

And damn him, the slides we good, not too crowded, and perfectly concise, he even had his speaker notes included and as you whispered them to yourself while sitting on your mattress you became determined.

You would not let this man outperform you. There would be employers present looking for interns and if you wanted to be noticed you could not be seen as the weak leak between the two of you. Especially not if it was Sukuna.

You started your email at 11 that night and rewrote for far too long.

Yes, you would practice your presentation with him, because and ONLY because you wouldn't allow him to drag you down.

It would also help settle your nerves, but he didn't need that confirmation.

It was on. Partner or not, you were fighting for the top spot in class and if your speaking ability fell short in comparison to his, you could not ever stand to look at him again.

But one thing you knew for sure as you sent the email, was that your advisor would be receiving some correspondence about avoiding a certain someone in future semesters.

It was past midnight. You started drafting a note about your class enrollment needs.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Tags: @blueyesuguru @monimonster57

[little-boyyyy-blog]

i forgot!

alessia russo x reader

when alessia meets the one just for her she makes sure she the right one before showing her off. even if there was really no doubt. well. besides your college. but you got her to forget about it for a while.

“are you a model?” you asked the blonde girl that you had been shameless watching move throughout the paris night club you were currently in. people were swarming the bars, leading to arms laying across a sticky counter with debit cards in hand and very close proximities.

a surpsied expression to your bold question came from the girl, her moving her ear away from your lips with a tint to her cheeks that wasn’t there before. you could swear.

“a footballer actually. are you?”

alessia was automatically attracted to you. her eyes genuinely scanned your body painfully slow as her eyes filled with a obsession

“basketballer actually. aren’t you competing?” alessia peaked up at the more familiar accent, she knew she had heard it before. leaning forward towards the american stranger, enjoying her memories of the united stated

“my nation didn’t qualify. but innit that funny, i went to school in america?”

“what a shame. i’d love to watch you play. shame it wasn’t at duke either, i would have seen you before that. i know that for sure.”

“and you lost me there. you were doing well too” you watched as disinterest comes across her face at the mention of your alma mater. not like it mattered to you, the footballer in front of you was all your mind was interested by.

“i never said i hated unc” you had to yell for her to hear, pulling her closer to you by her waist as another body tried to squeeze behind her.

“that’s because it’s the best in the country”

“in my country?”

“your country.” her smile came back, bringing a burn deeper in your stomach. the bartender swiftly dropped off both her drinks and yours. “vos cartes.” you don’t know what came over you; because it definitely wasn’t logic when your hand came on-top of alessia’s as she tried to start a tab. it was early in the night and you were still on a contact in the lowest paid league in america; but you had no problem treating the girl you were admiring for the night.

never had you thanked you agent more for sponsorships.

“mets toutes ses boissons avec les miennes ce soir. tout ce qu'elle obtient, je l'ai” the bartender nodded to your fluent french and turned away without hesitation; only taking your card.

“put all her drinks in with mine tonight. whatever she gets, i got”

“what did you just do? also i thought you were from america? you sound great. ”

“i gotta make my money somewhere, you went to america for experience no? just stay around for a while so i have something to look forward, remember to come say bye too.”

the sharpness to you, your undeniable looks, the free drinks.. how could she say no?

“i just might have to, and who do i come looking for?”

“you’ll find out if you come back. what’s you’re name?”

alessia’s eyes rolled at your secrecy, but bit her lip in enjoyment. she knew she’d be coming back, how couldn’t she. just look at you.

“alessia.”

“less these were out front?” leah announced as she entered alessia flat; confusion being noticed on the kent natives face until her eyes caught onto the pink peonies that we beautifully arranged for her.

leah carried them in carefully; not glancing to hard at them before handing them off. “theyre beautiful”

she would have kept an eye out front for them if she knew they were coming, but she never knew when you’d send them.

her cheeks when flushed and the pink in those flowers were so similar that you had secretly dedicated those flowers to her.

“oh my god, i didn’t hear a ring. thank you le.”

“who gave you those?” a question that gone unanswered.

alessia hadn’t spoken a word about you to her teammate. you were too good to be true in her mind; she didn’t want to ruin that before anything could actually happen.

quickly plucking the card off the floral pick and walked causally into the kitchen. “oh my those are beautiful less, who sent them?”

“someone from the states.” she slipped the card away into her back pocket before the overbearingness of the arsenal women’s team started.

“ohhhh”

“a college fling?”

“how many times have they’ve sent them?”

less pressed her lips together to hide the ever small smile from crossing her face. “once or twice.”

“oh my god!”

“a man sent those??”

“ay dios mío..”

the room continued with the chatter of who they may believe it to be. but surprisingly the room had two silent watchers. ones that alessia noticed instantly.

alessia felt as lotte watched her throw away the same peonies, now a week old. she felt emily watching as she cleaned the vase and put it in a cabinet. a cabinet with definitely more than one or two similar vases. emily would count on at least 7 or 8.

but of course they already knew that the american would have to be someone new to alessia.

they were alessia’s bestfriends at her time at unc; and they knew she spent her time there as a stepping stone to make it where she is now. meaning she was focused, studious, and committed to soccer while there. she wasn’t at unc to date, she was there to become better.

but alessia wasn’t stupid. her eyes meet with lotte’s and emily’s, giving them the look to please keep quiet for now. and that’s what they did. because they didn’t care that much.

well they did. but they knew if they pushed they’d never know. and trust. they wanted to know so badly that they were willing to wait.

alessia didn’t know why people cared so much if it didn’t involve them; but what she did was learn was that people will always want to know too much.

the spotlight makes you learn that damn last.

and as the flowers became a second thought to the arrival to the skipper, that gave alessia an escape from the attention to do something she couldn’t wait to do.

excusing herself to the bathroom from her guests once the timing felt right. her heart beating as she already pulled out her phone from her back pocket to text you a ‘thank you’ for the flowers as she walked through her flat.

pressing her back against her own bathroom door as she locked it. pulling out the card that was placed in the flowers from her back pocket so fast it may have ripped a corner. rubbing her thumb over the similar words as those that have brought her ease for the past 7 weeks.

i bought these flowers the same night i bought your ticket. you’ll be here in a week and these should last you til then. ill spend my days waiting for you until then. xo

you had finally made your way back with lunch for the two of you and less couldn’t hold back her excitement. she had jumped into your arms the second you had entered the apartment, giving you no time but to catch her. and that’s what you did. “finally”

holding her up against you with one arm as you held onto the food bag in your other, you walked the both of you into your apartment. letting the front door close and automatically lock as you walked you both into your kitchen. placing her and the food down on the counter before quickly placing a kiss to the british girls lips.

“hi hun” you whispered against them as she snuck her hand up your shirt, leaving a comforting and warm hand on your side. in a way to remind you she was real. a reminder you were grateful for as you looked at her longer. “hi baby”

“i got us our last american meal for a bit”

“enjoy your messy burger because you obviously can’t live without one for two weeks.”

“that’s why i got it obviously..” you rolled your eyes back at her, “you know you talk a lot of shit for someone who likes being in america”

“that’s because you’re here.” alessia had sent butterflies to your stomach ever since the moment you had met her at club. and over the months you had gotten to learn her; you had learn that her comments like those. meant something. not only to you; but her too.

“is that why you had me push back your return flight?”

“are we not going to mention how you bought yourself a ticket to come back with me” a teasing smile on her lips.

“no we’re not”

your phone rang on the counter taking you both out of your moment together; her eyes moving subconsciously to see who it was. and when she read another woman’s name she automatically sat up straight and let her hand quickly fall off of your waist.

alessia couldn’t help herself. as much as she’d love to say she hadn’t been looking for a red flag in you. she knew she had to be right about you being too good to be true in her mind.

“hey what’s up?..”

and honestly; for a good second. she couldn’t believe her eyes when you picked up your phone so nonchalantly infront of her, answering the call from the girl with not a second thought to you.

“..damn. no i can’t watch tuck this weekend; im going out of town with less..”

but of course she was being dramatic.

of course you had been telling everyone about alessia.

you had been treating her like your girlfriend since the moment she had arrived and alessia loved it. but never admitted it.

a small smile cracking out from your lips and a sly wink was all alessia needed for her cheeks to become that signature pink and her forehead to come planting on the center of your chest.

and as you ended the call and pulled her head away from your chest. there was that light smile still on your lips “jealous over a dog”

all alessia wants to do is kiss that smile off your face too. “it was the girl; and so what about it?”

“you’re all i want less”

“no way. you’re not dating her less.” emily stood firm in alessia apartment. another wide smile coming across your face as you knew why. a laugh coming out after alessia looked at you crazy.

“what?” you stood in the center on alessia living room in a pair of her arsenal shorts and an college college hoodie.

“emily i’ve told her” you had met emily before due to emily’s time in the nwsl and you’re continuing friendship with her u-19 national teammate tess boade.

“told me what?”

“she’s a blue devil?”

“what?” lotte quickly pipped in as if you had killed someone.

“she went to duke? are you kidding less? how could you fall for the rival.”

“oh my god. i forgot.”

“are you actually doing this right now? baby i told you the night we met?”

“i forgot!” alessia exclaimed.

“what do you mean?! how could you forget?”

“she was buying our drinks and she was looking really nice, i guess it just flew right over my head that night!”

“god less you’re kidding.”

she wasn’t. and maybe the enemy wasn’t so bad after all.

[marshiewritesfics]

Hey so how do you think the bat boys would deal with having a civilian s/o who doesn’t know they’re the bat boys yet and the boys start gushing about their alter ego a lot and s/o’s just like “Hey, do you have a celebrity crush on Nightwing/Robin/redrobin/Redhood?” (It’d just be funny if s/o was smart enough to notice their boyfriend’s odd behaviours, but coming to the wrong conclusion which they’re very chill about).

Civilian! S/O Who Is Clueless About the Batboys Alter Ego’s But Eventually Finds Out

A/N - Thank you so much for the request, @nesting-dreams ! I hope that you enjoy!

DICK GRAYSON-

- Dick subtly drops many hints a day stating that he saw, Nightwing, and you’re just wondering how he sees him so often

- “You’re really infatuated with this Nightwing guy, aren’t you?”

- Dick stammers out, “Uh…no why?” Trying to play it off that he’s not secretly him.

- You’re suspicious but you shrug and go to read some books in the study.

- “Whew that was close.” Dick thinks to himself.

- Later on you kept pestering him with questions about Nightwing seeing if he would slip up and spill his secrets but Dick learned and isn’t telling anything now.

- He offers short answers and dismisses your questions with short explanations.

- Every day after that you kept tabs on whether or not he would mention Nightwing and then take notes on what he said.

- Each time he would slip up a little and mention his signature blue or the suit or even some of the gadgets he had.

- You figured Dick was either a major fanboy or he was hiding something so you decide to do a little research.

- You take notes about when Dick leaves during the day, odd behaviors, and new scars that mysteriously appear on his body.

- You knew something was up but you wouldn’t confront him yet until you had concrete evidence.

- That is until one day you were doing the laundry and you find a blue and black spandex suit buried in the bottom of the laundry basket.

- You whip out your phone, take a few pictures of the suit, in all different angles and stuff the suit back in the bottom of the basket pretending to not have seen it

- You had your evidence now you just had to wait till Dick got home and you would see what’s really going on

JASON TODD-

- You notice that he’s out one night until almost midnight and you’re worried.

- So you decide to stay up all night and wait for him to get home.

- Jason arrives home at around 2am, and, he’s bruised and has quite a few scrapes on his arm.

- He was smart though and removed his Red Hood suit off earlier and hid it in a safe place.

- “Jason! What in the world happened to you? This is what you’ve been doing all night? Getting hurt?” You exclaimed, rushing over to help bandage his arms.

- He stares at you in shock not expecting you to be up so late waiting for him. Normally you were fast asleep by now. He honestly doesn’t know how to respond.

- “This? Oh, that’s nothing. I was just out for a little late night walk.” He said with a shrug but you could see him wince ever so slightly.

- “I just saw you wince! That was no ordinary walk, Jason!” You say, as you get him all bandaged up.

- Jason stares at you in bewilderment that you’re getting so worked up over this. You never acted like this before.

- “Like I said, it was nothing. Now that my arms all taken care of, I’m going to head up to bed. Thank you for taking care of me, y/n.”

- Jason leaves to go upstairs but before he does, you whip out one of his Red Hood jackets that you found one day behind the house.

- “If you were just out for a little walk then what’s this?” You exclaim, holding up his jacket.

- Jason’s eyes grow huge in shock. “Y/N, where did you get that? I don’t know what that is.” He said, quickly trying to cover his tracks before revealing his secret.

- “Uh huh. Well, go get some rest but we’ll talk about this in the morning.” You say, staring at him suspiciously.

- You have never seen Jason move so fast. He grabbed both the jacket and a stray bullet that had fallen from one of the many holes on the jacket before racing upstairs to clean up any other evidence of his escapades.

TIM DRAKE-

- You had a feeling that Tim was hiding something from you but you didn’t know what it was.

- Tim spends countless tireless hours in his workshop making things but you didn’t know what they were for.

- So one day you make your way down to his workshop while he was out running errands.

- You sneak inside (you already had the password written down and hidden for safe keeping) and explore his workspace

- Various sharp objects and things that looked vaguely like weapons were strewn about onto various tables or mounted on the walls

- A high tech monitor was installed on one of the far walls complete with vocal recognition and retina scans

- You weren’t going to mess with that so you made your way over to a tall, case that was located next to some scraps of fabric

- Curious, you reach up to open the door to see what was inside, but before you could Tim burst through the door of the shop.

- With a squeak, you turn to hide but before you could, Tim spots you and he is visibly unnerved and surprised.

- “Y/N! How did you get down here? What did you see? This is nothing! Don’t worry about any of this stuff.” Tim exclaims, hurriedly trying to hide any evidence of his alter ego but you’ve already seen too much.

- “I’ll just be going now…” you say, your voice trailing off as you make your way back towards the door.

- “Wait! Y/N, I can explain everything just give me some time.” Tim calls after you.

- “Ok! Just don’t be doing anything that I wouldn’t do while you’re out. We’ll talk about this later.” You say, rushing upstairs to document everything that you saw before he tries to deny any of this (or tries to get rid of any evidence)

- You were not going to forget this any time soon no matter what Tim tries to deny.

[thatonesonicfanfictionwriter]

Platonic, Sonic and sibling reader, Sonic reacting to Shadow showing signs of liking reader, and just him being an over protective older brother about it. Also extra funny because imagine your sibling just casually holding hands with your biggest rival

i love crack

“Not On My Watch!”

Pairing(s): Sonic the Hedgehog & Sibling Reader (platonic), Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader

Requested: Yes (by an anon).

Description: No one knew Sonic had a sibling, let alone a twin sibling that looked nothing like him. So why did Shadow feel so strongly for someone related to that faker?

Notes: This one has potential to be both funny and cute so I’m excited to write this one! Also sorry for always introducing Reader in the same way-

(Reader will be gender-neutral.)

(Not proof-read/beta-read.)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

It was your typical day for Sonic and Shadow.

Get into a race, start sparring, somehow get stopped by Eggman, be forced to work with the faker, save the day.

Except this time, it was different.

They defeated the robot like they usually do, but Shadow was badly injured, and a large piece of metal from the robot almost fell on him. Shadow could barely move, so he squeezed his eyes shut, expecting the hit, only for it to never come.

He opens his eyes, expecting to see the faker’s smug face, but instead, it’s someone else’s.

Yours.

You’re a hedgehog just like him and Sonic, but you seem to excel in strength rather than speed.

And he’s mesmerized by you.

“You alright?” you ask him.

“I’m fine,” Shadow states, turning his head away and avoiding eye contact, controlling his blush that threatens to cover his face.

You shrug and place the metal down next to you.

“You sure? You look like you’ve been through hell and back,” you tell him.

“I said I’m fine,” he spats.

He feels your gaze on him, causing him to feel uneasy.

“Yo! [Name]! What brings you here?” Sonic asks after rushing over to you and Shadow.

“([Name]…I’ll have to remember that.)” Shadow thinks to himself.

“I happened to be in the area and thought I’d come see my…” you start, dragging out the ‘y’ before you pull Sonic into a headlock, giving him a noogie. “Annoying twin brother!”

“Ach! Assault! Shadow, help me!” Sonic says dramatically. “I’ve been ambushed!”

“Fight your own fights, faker,” Shadow tells me. “Since when did you have a sibling?”

“Uh- Since birth! Duh!” Sonic says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Did you really not tell anyone about me???” you ask him. “I think that earns you another noogie!”

“Noooooo! Spare meeeee!” Sonic says, laughing as you give him another nookie.

“Anyway! I’m gonna keep exploring,” you tell him, releasing Sonic and pointing finger guns in their direction. “Make sure you get that cute friend of yours bandaged!”

“(Cute?!)” Shadow thinks to himself, desperately trying to keep the blush from rising to his face and ears.

You wave goodbye to them both and jog off.

Sonic waits until you’re out of earshot to say anything about your comment.

“Did they just call you cute???” Sonic questions. “There’s no way my sibling called you cute.”

“I don’t understand it myself,” Shadow mutters.

“Are you blushing?!” Sonic asks.

“No! You’re seeing things!” Shadow states, his face tinted green.

Sonic lets out a groan.

“Touch my baby sibling and I’ll kick your butt,” Sonic threatens.

“Oh no. How threatening,” Shadow says sarcastically. “Why don’t you let them date who they want to date, faker.”

“I’m not having them date some faker!” Sonic states, causing Shadow to roll his eyes.

Unfortunately for Sonic, Shadow had the world’s best love-advice giver living with him.

Rouge the Bat.

“Sooo, spill the beans. What do you like about them?” Rouge asks.

“Well, they’re just generally attractive,” Shadow starts, Rouge nodding along. “Not to mention they risked their life for mine, they’re a strong person, and…I feel like we’d make a good match.”

“I could set up a date for you if you’d like…For a price,” Rouge states.

Shadow pulls out a decent-sized diamond from his quills, causing Rouge to gasp.

“DEAL!” Rouge states.

A few months and many dates later, it’s official. You and Shadow started dating.

Now Sonic had to deal with you talking constantly about Shadow and see you two hold hands.

How’s that for a faker, Sonic?

[concreteangel92]

“Have You Ever Tried This One?”

Noah Sebastian x female popstar reader

18+

Got this idea from @lunabuna991’s post and couldn’t get it out of my head haha this idea is so cute and I just had to do something for it but of course I added in a little bit of spice haha

Warnings: smut, PiV, praise kink, talks of edging

Permanent Noah Taglist: @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lacy1986 @fadingangelwisp @theanarchymuse95 @w0manof-flesh44 @dream-machine-love @thisbicc @amelia-acero @badomenslullaby @fadingintothegrey @tosoundlessdarkistare @ichoosetenderomens @hurricanesfollowyou @concretejunglefm

Let me know if you wish to be added!

Masterlist

The large crowd in the stadium was screaming and chanting your name as the lights came up on the first night of your sold out world tour.

You were one of the hottest A-listers of the moment with your latest album still number 1 in the charts and you were living your ultimate dream. All of the hard work has lead you to this, you had the most incredible fan base, you were selling out arenas all over the world and your music was adored by everyone.

You felt the butterflies in your stomach as you waited for your queue to take the stage, microphone already in hand.

You felt more nervous tonight, not just because it was the opening night, but because your boyfriend was watching in the VIP area of the crowd tonight.

You and Noah had been dating for 8 months now, he was your perfect man, loving, kind, funny and an absolute beast in the bedroom, he matched your energy in every way.

Hence why a lot of your songs had very provocative lyrics in them.

A particular fan favourite was your song called ‘Juno’ and you knew you wanted to give the fans a show on this tour by mimicking sexual positions after the line “Have you ever tried this one?” and then changing it in every country.

Tonight you knew you were going to do one particular move, it was going to be the same position that your boyfriend had you in the night before

Flashback

Noah’s inked fingers dug into your thighs in a bruising grip as he held your crossed legs up against his chest as he pounded into you mercilessly.

“Shit…you feel so fucking tight!”

You couldn’t respond, the only sounds that would come out were your choked cries as you squeezed your eyes shut and your head fell back onto the pillow and your hands gripped the sheets beneath you.

You could feel every inch of Noah, like he wanted to make sure you remembered all of him while you went on tour for the next few months.

Noah’s hips continued to slam into you, the sounds echoing around the room.

“You were made for me angel…so fucking perfect”

You knew you wouldn’t be lasting long, Noah had edged you by having his face in between your legs for an hour before he showed some mercy on you and gave you what you wanted, said that he’d been enjoying himself too much and needed to make sure he’d had his fill before you were separated.

“Noah…oh my…”

You felt your thighs shaking under his hands, your back arching and your body convulsing on the mattress as you screamed the house down, not caring if anything was heard.

You barely had time to come down from your high before Noah suddenly pulled out and hooked his arms around your thighs and went to dive back down again.

“I just need a little taste baby, I bet you taste fucking delicious after cumming all over my cock like that, got to make sure we make the most of tonight”

••••

You skipped out into the stage and the crowd went wild, you smiled and waved before you started your set.

You sang and danced along side your back up dancers, loving every second but what made you smile more was when you finally caught sight of Noah.

He was in the VIP section with Nicholas and Matt, he was smiling and singing along to every word you sang and they wolf whistled and cheered for you after every song.

Finally Juno had come on, you had such a cheeky smile as you got to the line “wanna try out some freaky positions?”

You ran to the front of the stage, made sure you looked directly at Noah before you lied down in your back and lifted your legs up and crossed them over each other.

“Have you ever tried this one?”

Noah’s face was priceless as the crowd roared, he smiled and his hand came up to his face as if to hide the blush on his cheeks as he shook his head, Matt and Nick instantly laughing and giving him the elbow with raised eyebrows as they laughed.

You winked in his direction, smiled and carried on with the song.

•••••

Later that evening, the concert was over and Noah had joined you at your hotel, instantly lifting you up into a huge hug and telling you how incredible you were.

You settled down in bed together knowing it was the last night for a while as you were jetting off in the morning early.

Your social media had been flooding with the fans telling you how good you were and what an amazing night they had.

Your favourite video of the night however was a video a fan had taken of Noah during ‘Juno’ and his reaction.

Just as you went into the position, Noah’s face instantly showed he remembered the night before and he was all smiley and almost blushing. It was the comment underneath it that made your night.

“Noah watching y/n’s set and you just know that he was twirling his hair and kicking his feet when she done this! Clearly something he’s seen recently 😏”

[danibeanie]

Astro notes :P

hi these are just my personal observations! :)

-I noticed that virgo placements are more inclined to smoke weed and I think it's because they're always anxious, so they need something to chillax them.

-virgo placements are natural helpers their analytical energy is sometimes positive in this sense.

-if anyone's mars falls into your 12th house be WARY of these people because they're more likely to project their anger onto you. (12th house is hidden enemies & mars is anger, coming from personal experience)

-Im obsessed with scorpio risings (coming from a taurus rising) They're the realest people I've ever met and every single one of them has gone through their trials and tribulations, but they always come out on top in the end :,)

-ALSO their eyes tell a story like very deeeeep

-gemini placements are always willing to learn anything whenever and wherever! which is why they become bored easily, they're always intrigued which is something I love about us.

-this is so stereotypical but capricorns are really workaholics like it's okay to take a break y'all lmao.

-another observation is that any authority figure that I've had has a capricorn placement, wether that be moon, sun, or mars. they naturally have that discipline and ambition which is noticed.

-If someone has a case of rbf (resting b**** face) they more than likely have an aries placement in their big three OR chart ruler. my bestie has a aries stellium and people always thinks she's mad, but she's literally chillin.

-taurus energy is hard to go unnoticed ESPECIALLY in the big three. You can have the most extroverted sign or stellium, but you'll always feel that earthy, rooted, in nature presence somewhere.

-also if you see someone with a prominent style or just a great fashion sense , more than likely they got prominent taurus in their chart. *taurus is ruled by venus after all!*

-cancer moons are very affected by outside energies which is why they're so emotional and sensitive. the crab is very representative of their outside demeanor=guarded which unintentionally makes them perceived as mystical. (in reality we just don't wanna get hurt LMAO)

-one thing about cancer moons is that if you f with them be ready to be left in the cold forever. these people give you their all and if you take that for granted they'll act as if they never knew you.

-leos confidence doesn't have to be loud it's just there... like you can feel it and that's what makes them stand out. they know they the shi LOL

-libra woman really have that hourglass figure like it can be venus, moon, or mars, or sun. The funny thing is that libras image is the balanced scales which makes sense. they don't even have to have a hourglass fig they just naturally have a pretty figure, glamour vibes.

-sag moons are a breath of fresh air like you just wanna have fun and travel. very easy going energy

-sag venus men are SO into anyone they really don't have a type, more into exotic people or someone unique or different than their culture.

-aqua moons are so interesting to me because they come off as disinterested or very vague? lmao I don't know how to explain it but most of the aqua moons I've encountered have a neptune conjunction which is prob why I can't read them.

-I do believe that aqua moons are deep in thought tho.(very interesting people)

pisces placements are on par with gemini placements when it comes to adapting to energies and environments. they're both mutuable signs but with pisces they're elusive and sort of passive meanwhile gemini elusiveness is more outward/blunt because of the mercury influence.

[clarkeyhill]

Bandaid | George Clarke

Fluff.

It started as a small step into George’s world—a world I had admired from a distance for so long. George, my boyfriend, had a natural charisma that made his social media posts shine. He’d share everything from his adventures to silly little anecdotes, and people loved him for it. Inspired by his success, I decided to give it a shot myself.

At first, it was slow and steady. I wasn’t expecting thousands of followers overnight, and I didn’t get them. But there was something comforting in seeing a few likes pop up here and there, a handful of comments cheering me on, people genuinely enjoying what I had to share. George was my biggest cheerleader, always liking my videos, leaving comments, and giving me tips.

And then, things began to pick up. Slowly but surely, the numbers grew. My content was reaching more people, which was thrilling—but also terrifying.

Some of the comments were lovely, warm, and kind. “Your energy is so refreshing!” one person wrote. “Love seeing you and George together—such a sweet couple!” said another. Every kind word felt like a little burst of sunlight.

But with the good came the bad.

I’d scroll through the comments and sometimes stumble upon words that felt like stones hurled in my direction. “Why would George even date her?” “She’s punching way above her weight.” “She’s not even that pretty.” And, the one that cut the deepest: “He deserves someone better.”

At first, I brushed them off. I told myself not to let them bother me, that people on the internet could be cruel just for the sake of it. But the words lingered, like tiny splinters burrowing under my skin. I started second-guessing every video, every picture I posted. Was I good enough? Did I really belong in this space—or in George’s life?

George began to notice.

It was subtle at first, but he could read me like a book. One evening, as we sat on the couch scrolling through our phones, he looked at me, his brows furrowed with concern. “You’ve been quiet lately,” he said. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I replied quickly, plastering on a smile.

He didn’t buy it.

“Come on,” he insisted gently. “I know when something’s bothering you.”

I hesitated, not wanting to burden him with my insecurities. But George had a way of waiting patiently, his warm eyes encouraging me to speak.

Finally, I told him.

As I spoke, his expression shifted from curiosity to disbelief, and then to something that looked like anger—but not at me. When I finished, his mouth hung open slightly, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d heard.

“Are you serious?” he said, his voice tinged with disgust. “People actually said that to you?”

I nodded, my shoulders sagging under the weight of it all.

Without a word, George scooted closer, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me into his chest. “I’m so sorry you’ve had to deal with that,” he said softly. “But those people don’t know you. They don’t see how amazing you are, how much you mean to me. They’re just… idiots, honestly.”

His words were like a balm, soothing the sting of every cruel comment I’d read. He pulled back slightly, holding my face in his hands. “You know you’re incredible, right? Like… genuinely. You’re beautiful, funny, smart, kind—everything. And anyone who can’t see that isn’t worth your time.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, a mixture of relief and gratitude.

George wasn’t done. “And just so you know, I don’t care what anyone else says. I love you for you" he smiled

In that moment, I felt lighter, as if George’s words had lifted the weight from my shoulders. He was my bandaid, covering the wound with care, helping it heal.

Later that night, as I scrolled through my comments again, the harsh words didn’t seem as sharp. I knew they were still there, but George’s voice echoed in my mind, drowning them out with kindness and love.

And for the first time in days, I felt like I belonged—not just in this online world, but in George’s life, exactly as I was.

-

🫶🏻

[jinx-isha-forever]

Good luck charm

(Jinx x fem!reader)

Summary: Vi, Caitlyn, and Jinx are playing Risk. You and Isha are watching.

(Risk is a strategy board game)

Warnings: none.

A/N: This is a silly idea I had over the holidays. Enjoy!

(Also, first post ever kinda nervous) 😅

“Just roll the dice already!” Jinx says dramatically, throwing her hands up.

Jinx, Vi, and Caitlyn were currently playing Risk. You and Isha decided to observe the masters at work.

“I will…. I’m just thinking it over.” Vi says looking at her troops intensely.

“Well you’re taking forever.”

Jinx grumbles folding her arms, slouching in her chair.

You return to the board game with a fresh pot of coffee, Isha following close behind with a cookie. Smiling at Jinx’s childish behavior.

“Okay, I’ve moved my troops.” Vi says with a smirk leaning back in her chair.

“It’s your turn cupcake.”

Caitlyn side eyes Vi for a sec, before she starts to strategically set down her troops.

“Soooo.” You say looking over Jinx’s shoulder.

“Do you have a plan? Or are you just making it up as you go along?”

You say teasingly to Jinx. You knew she always started with a plan and then kinda drifts off, attacking whoever she chooses to take revenge on.

Jinx turns her head looking straight at you with a dramatic, hurt look on her face.

“Do I have a plan. What kinda question is that? Of course I have a plan, and it’s a really good one too toots! You just wait till it’s my turn.”

She says putting her hands behind her head.

“I’m going to attack one of Jinx’s territories!”

Caitlyn announces picking up the dice. Jinx quickly sits up and grabs her dice as well.

“So you think you can just take one of my territories.” She says looking at Caitlyn, beginning to shake the dice.

“We’ll see about that.”

The little war goes on for a few minutes, Caitlyn ultimately winning Jinx’s territory.

“Well… I think I’m finished….for now.” Caitlyn says confidently, arranging her last troops. Clearly proud.

Jinx surprisingly says nothing. She just folds her hands together waiting for Caitlyn to finish.

It was finally Jinx’s turn.

You look over at Vi knowing she was probably the first to go.

“Ooooookay.” She finally speaks scanning every single troop. “Y/N, Isha…..drum roll please.”

She says looking over at you with a spark of mischief in her eyes.

You and Isha began to do a little drum roll with your fingers against the table.

“I have saved every single territory card this whole game and now……I’m cashing them in.”

She says in a funny voice, laying down 5 cards.

Vi and Caitlyn look at her with shocked faces.

“Noooooo.” Vi groans. Putting her head on the table.

Caitlyn watches in horror.

“I was going to do that next turn.” She says looking at You and Vi.

“Well you snooze….. you lose.” Jinx says with a smug smile, sitting down her huge army.

Jinx begins her warpath, taking out everything in her sight.

It wasn’t long before Vi’s last troop got destroyed.

“Whyyyy.” Vi cries out annoyed.

“I was so close to victory too.” She huffs.

“Are you sure about that sis.” Jinx says under her breath in a grumbled voice.

You kinda chuckle at Jinx’s words but try to stifle it when you see Vi giving you both a sharp look.

“Okey dokey.”

Jinx says picking up the dice once more, turning her attention to the last player ……Caitlyn.

Caitlyn looks up, grabbing her dice as well.

The game goes on. Jinx’s troops are starting to get pretty thin as she try’s to finish off Caitlyn.

And then finally it comes down to one more roll.

You sit there holding Isha in your lap both of you watching intensely.

Jinx picks up the dice.

Everyone nows this ones got to count. Otherwise, it will go to Caitlyn, and she will cash in her cards and do the exact same thing to Jinx.

Caitlyn looks over at Vi. She looks confident. Like she knew this was going to happen.

Jinx begins shaking the dice. But stops suddenly.

“Hey toots, Isha.” She looks at both of you. “Blow on these for me.”

She holds the dice right in front of your face. Isha looks up at you.

“This for luck or something?”

You question looking at the dice.

“Well yeah it’s for luck, and I need both of you to blow on them.” She says rolling her eyes playfully.

You look down at Isha before you both blow on the dice.

Jinx smiles. Caitlyn face palms.

The room gets quiet as Jinx rolls the dice. You hold in a breath as she lets the dice fly.

They hit the board and everyone is leaning over the table to see.

“YOU WON!” You shout!

Isha hugs you, giggling at all of the excitement around her.

Jinx moves her hand in a gun motion “pow” a smile on her face, moving Caitlyn’s last troop off the bored.

Vi sits there with a smile.

“Guess you should’ve asked me to blow on your dice.” She says nudging Caitlyn softly.

Caitlyn shakes her head in disbelief.

Jinx is now doing a victory dance and Isha joins in laughing and giggling.

You stand from your seat, Jinx tackling you in a hug.

“I guess you and Isha are my lucky charms now.” She nuzzles her nose in your neck smiling.

You smile, rapping your arms around her.

“I guess we are.”

[infiniteglitterfall]

One common statement you'll hear about it is that -- as I just now read in an Al Jazeera piece -- "The proposed partition, alas, was neither fair nor agreed upon by the parties. It allocated 44 percent of the land to the Palestinians though they were 67 percent of the population."

It's true that the UN allocated about 45% of the land to Palestine and 55% to Israel. Could have been 44%/56%.

It's also true that the Jews were only about a third of the population.

It's not true that the part the UN offered to create Palestine was the only part it gave the Palestinians.

It's just the only part that was almost Jew-Free.

Under the UN's partition plan, Palestine would have been about 90% Arab Palestinians, and 10% Jewish Palestinians. Israel would have been about 57% Jewish Israelis, 43% Arab Israelis.

So right off the bat, although the UN was offering Israel 55% of the land and Jews were only about 33% of the population, that land wasn't just being offered to 538,000 Jews. It was also being offered to 397,000 of the Arabs there.

But also, the two areas weren't really comparable. About half the part allocated to Israel was the inhospitable Negev desert.

Even if the UN had given that sparsely populated desert land to Palestine too, Palestinian leadership would still have rejected the deal. Because Palestinian leadership at that point was the Arab Higher Council, headed by Amin al-Husseini, a Nazi war criminal in exile.

Al-Husseini wanted the entire land to not only be Palestine -- and be under his rule -- but to either be Jew-Free or (at most) only contain those Jews who had already lived there, under Ottoman rule, for centuries. And thus, knew their place.

(He wasn't in exile for being a Nazi war criminal. He became a Nazi war criminal while he was in exile.

He went into exile after he spent 1936-39 using a Nazi-funded and -trained militia to terrorize anyone in power who supported coexistence with the Jews. I'm actually not even sure if he was forced to leave, come to think of it.)

It's also true that the partition was based on who was the majority in which areas, which is why the map is a fucking mess.

It's funny that you can see from the numbers that the Arab leadership was trying to have as few Jews there as possible, and that the UN knew it.

And, conversely, that the Jewish leadership would (and did) accept anything that came with even a slight Jewish majority.

Meanwhile, al-Husseini was like, "Fuck you guys. I've been lobbying the Arab League countries for months to get them to invade and destroy Israel, ideally before it even declares independence. I'll just do that instead."

Cue almost six months of volunteer armies from Jordan, Egypt, Lebanon, Syria, and Iraq trying to ethnically cleanse the Jews and take the land for themselves.

And then Britain left and the Arab League could officially invade, with their own armies and war planes and everything, without starting World War Three.

(I fully picture Britain walking away, hands up in frustration and annoyance, going, "NOT OUR PROBLEM NOT OUR PROBLEM NOT OUR PROBLEM NOT OUR PROBLEM--")

So this is a great example of a fundamental misunderstanding of history!

In 1948, the land that is now Israel/Palestine was controlled by the British Empire. It wasn't owned by either Jews or Arabs in its entirety, and additionally there had not been an independent state in the land since the Jewish Kingdom of Judah was conquered by the Roman Empire in 63 CE.

Secondly, the pre-State of Israel agreed to a UN partition partition plan in 1947 that guaranteed an Arab state and Jewish state in the borders shown on the map below:

On May 14, the State Of Israel declared independence within the borders shown in blue on the map. Rather than accepting an Arab state and a Jewish state, the armies of surrounding Arab states, including Jordan, Egypt, Syria, Iraq, attacked the nascent State Of Israel with the intention to destroy it in favor of an Arab state in the entirety of the former British Mandate of Palestine.

Before it was attacked, the State Of Israel had no intention to fight the Arab states or hurt the Arabs living in the borders of Israel. This is shown clearly in Israel's Declaration of Independence.

WE APPEAL — in the very midst of the onslaught launched against us now for months — to the Arab inhabitants of the State of Israel to preserve peace and participate in the upbuilding of the State on the basis of full and equal citizenship and due representation in all its provisional and permanent institutions. WE EXTEND our hand to all neighboring states and their peoples in an offer of peace and good neighborliness, and appeal to them to establish bonds of cooperation and mutual help with the sovereign Jewish people settled in its own land. The State of Israel is prepared to do its share in a common effort for the advancement of the entire Middle East.

Direct quotes from Israel's Declaration Of Independence.

However, during the 1948 War* the majority Palestinians living in Israel fled out of fear or were kicked out. Similarly, all of the Jews living in Judea & Samaria/the West Bank were kicked out by the Jordanian army.

Massacres were committed by both sides during the war, including the Deir Yassin massacre, in which many Palestinians were killed by right-wing Zionist militias and the Gush Etzion massacre in which many Jews were killed by the Jordanian army.

Both Palestinians and Jews had to flee/were kicked out of places in which they had resided for centuries - some examples being Lydda/Lod (for Palestinians) the Old City of Jerusalem, specifically the Jewish quarter which was later looted by the Jordanian army (for Jews).

Israel ended up winning the war -- and winning more territory than had originally been given to them. This was what the map looked like after the Armistice Agreement at the end of the 1948 war:

At the end of the war, Egypt occupied Gaza and Jordan occupied Judea & Samaria/the West Bank. There was no Palestinian state.

During and in the aftermath of the 1948 War, 700,000 Palestinians became refugees from Israel, and between 17,000 and 40,000 Jews became refugees from Judea & Samaria/the West Bank and Gaza, and about 1 million Jews became refugees from the rest of the SWANA region.

This post is in no way an exhaustive or authoritative history, but it shows clearly the history of the 1948 War is much more complicated than "forcefully took that land from them".

If you would like me to make a post about history pre-1948 I can do that as well.

*I chose to call this war the 1948 war so as to be impartial as possible. Other names used include the 1948 Arab-Israeli War, Israel's War Of Independence, and the 1948 Palestine War.

Keep reading below the cut for sources.

SOURCES:

[anniflamma]

hi anni! I wanted to share some information from my family Bible from my mom’s mom’s side of the family that’s history section only goes up to 1877 when it talks about Russo-Turkish war staring. And the pictures might be horrible.

The antediluvian patriarchs apparently lived during the Neolithic era which just happened to be when us humans were first starting to use farming and we started to domesticate dogs, sheep, and cattle. It personally helps with me as I’m a historically accurate nerd when it comes to clothing and just searching up ‘Neolithic era’ clothing rather than ‘caveman’ clothing is much more specific. Enoch in Islam, Idris, was also apparently the first man who learned how to write with a pen.

now, onto Greece! The Trojan war happened in around 1204 bc (Eratosthenes of Cyrene says it happened around 1194-1184 bc but judges still happens at the same time) which during that time, the judges Jair to Abdon were alive and the book of judges happening the same time Odysseus, Achilles and Patroclus, and hector were doing their stuff I just funny to me.

Troy was also a vassal of the Hittite empire, a major power in the Bronze Age by Uriah’s people, since 1400 bc. Troy was called Wilusa by the Hittites. Later, in 1240 bc, in a historical note called the Milawata letter mentions a ‘recently disposed pro-Hittite king of Wilusa’ which the king of the Hittite king Tudhailya IV intended to re-install as the king, who was named Walmu, was dethroned due to possible occupation of the raids by the Ahhiyawa people who most believe are homer’s early Mycenaean Greeks. During the Trojan war, the Hittite empire fractured and the Egyptian new kingdom fell into disarray , two of the major powers during the Bronze Age. I personally believe that might be a reason why in the Bible the tribes want a king (for safety and unity reasons) but I don’t know.

and here’s a timeline in the book with the year, the biblical event, and the non-biblical events: ⬇️

There were also two Jonathan’s in the era between the old and New Testament.

One of the advertisements of the book, in the book, was that it had 1500 illustrations and I wanted to share some!

David and Michal during the dancing naked incident and Michal looks like she’s SO ANNOYED and about to hit her head on that stone wall like she’s had enough of it all.

This is in the second book of Samuel illustration, and I think it’s David with Bathsheba and Solomon but idk if it actually is because it didn’t say.

and also here’s part of the Daniel illustration.

that’s all I’ve shared, I hope I got enough right history-wise and again, sorry this was SO long and sorry if you already knew some of their stuff!

This is genuinely some really cool stuff, especially who it shows the timeline and comparing to other non biblical historical events. I seriously need to read more about the Hettites. They were like one of the first major civilizations in the bronze age and I know barley anything about them.

[iid-smile]

★★ RUSSIAN ROULETTE ⋆

CHAPTER 01 — MiSFiT

series m.list — next >>

content — itoshi rin x gn!reader, spiderman au, crack (its not funny 🙁), bickering, basically just a lil intro of spiderman and the readers friendship, heights, lil mentions of motion sickness, a tiny tiny bit suggestive if you squint but nothing too obvious, protective rin, also mean rin

wc — 1.2k (+0.4k)

a/n — since im planning on having rin being both in and out of his suit, im just gonna call him spiderman when he's actually spiderman to the reader (youll get what i mean l8r) also can we take about how the masterlist actually suits rins colours and this doesn't? there was no way i was going to sit there and edit each and every one of my headers so it would look more like rin's suit. nuh uh... yes anyways me thinks i'll introduce the real rin and the reader in the next chapter

it was both a blessing and a curse to say that you've met spiderman more times than anyone else in japan. that's minus the fake ones at mall meet and greets by the way. time and time again, he comes to rescue you, whether that be in a real life or death situation, or minor inconveniences when you're out and about.

he's like a little guardian angel, but add in an insult every other minute.

once again, he's saved your life, effortlessly swooping in at the perfect moment and pulling you out of a sticky situation that could have ended (not) very badly. you weren't in any dire danger at all, but it's too late to say that when you're already hundreds of feet into the air that you really could've handled it yourself.

as he gripped onto you by the waist, a rush of adrenaline surged through your veins, sending your heart racing with a mix of fear and excitement. the wind whipped around you, and the world blurred in a dizzying, blinding dance of colours and light as he spun you effortlessly.

thank god this wasn’t your first time being swung around like this, otherwise you would've been guaranteed to get motion sickness. okay, maybe you are, but still, you couldn’t help but marvel at how he seemed unfazed by all of the comotion. your squeals of terror echoed in his ears as you clung to him, feeling as if you're going to teeter out of his grasp.

sure, you could have easily sidestepped the trouble if you were watching where you were going, but there's nothing better than a pair of strong arms protecting you from any and all sorts of harm. and what better way was there to draw him in than to create a moment where he feels like the hero?

well, he is a hero, just... not a very... good one.

as you finally approach an open clearing where you're unlikely to smash into a skyscraper, you build up the courage to properly open your eyes, taking in the busy streets and traffic below you. this doesn't feel real at all.

"you're unlike anyone i've ever met, spidey!" you yell loud enough for him to hear you as he cuts through gusts of wind. your hands manage to land on his shoulders, lifting yourself up more for a better view. as scary as it was, you knew he wouldn't drop you.

spiderman's heart starts to pick up from the simple, random declaration, already beating ten times faster than it was before. put it on a scale; it's about as fast as... um... it's really fast. was this the moment he's been waiting for?

"what do you mean?" he tries to keep his voice as even as possible, not letting the anticipation get to him as he awaits your answer. the side of your face was now pressed against his, allowing the both of you to speak normally.

"you're weird as hell!"

oh.

his expression immediately drops back to his usual scowl behind the mask. was that supposed to be a compliment, or..? that was the only word that came to mind in your tiny word bank, apparently. his eyes narrow as he avoids yet another shortcut back to your apartment, opting to take the "safer" way.

not very safe when he purposely makes a hard left, leaving your body threatening to slip out of his hold with your fingers digging into his suit. this guy is a piece of shit. "i don't think you can say that when this is the third day in a row that i've had to save you." he grumbled.

your grin turns sour, pursing your lips and squinting your eyes as you look off to the side in mock offence. if he's gonna play this game, then there's no way in hell you're backing down. "i don't think you can say that when you literally saved me from a piece of gum."

"you were stuck to the road."

"it was blocked off and under construction."

"and you know how quickly construction workers work. what if you got buried under concrete?"

"i wouldn't!"

"of course not." he flatly replies, though his arm tightens around your waist. "you're hard to miss." (he meant that in a good way, but it came out wrong. cons of having a grumpy voice)

wow. isn't he so sweet? "fuck you!" you hiss, kicking your legs to throw him off balance, but it only makes you feel worse. you want to lift your hand, hit him or just do something, but it's like it's glued onto him. "do you want me to start screaming?"

"please don't."

"i will—"

"no." the last thing he wanted was to go deaf from your voice in his ears. was it too late to add in a noise cancelling feature to his mask?

still, he makes another risky decision to swing underneath a bridge, staying attached as the two of you do an entire loop around the structure before shooting into the air.

obviously, your first instinct was to scream.

with your arms securely clasped around his neck, you clung on as if your very life depended on it (which it did), your voice rising in panic as you shouted out into the air. your eyes squeeze shut, head banging from what felt like a headache as you rambled whatever sentences came to mind. "just say that you like hearing me scream then!"

"...what?" his mind goes blank for a split second but he shakes himself out of it, switching the conversation. "hang on tight, we're nearly there."

your legs wrap around him. "can you not see that i'm—"

"just shut up, will you?" he whispers, a "mysterious" heat starting to spread hotter and hotter over his cheeks.

spiderman finally returns you to your bedroom balcony, landing on the railing with light feet before carefully easing you off of him. he keeps a hand on your shoulder, making sure you stay upright and don't tumble over. yes, you were dizzy. yes, you definitely needed to lay down. but you cannot deny that was so fun!

you let out a lazy giggle, pretty much falling into his arms once more from your legs giving out. "thanks for the joyride, spidey..."

he scoffs, pushing you off him and ushering you through your bedroom door. "i got you home safe. that's all that matters." he sounded almost bashful, but your silly self didn't notice.

amid the silence between the two of you, a piercing alarm blares in the distance, its urgent sound slicing through the a a quiet like a knife. the mechanical wail rises and falls, echoing off the buildings and rolling through the streets, creating a sense of urgency that captures the attention of innocent pedestrians.

spiderman glanced over his shoulder, assessing the situation. spidey senses — or something like that. another bank robbery.

you smile playfully at him, your body leaned against the glass door. "i think actually saving the city is more important right now."

though you couldn't tell too well, he wasn't looking directly at you. "...right." reluctant to leave, he stalled for a few seconds, not knowing if he should say goodbye or... no. no. he doesn't need to. it's already hard enough to talk when he's around you.

and just like that, japan's hero was off.

bonus! block blast newbie

after a long day, nighttime started to settle in, though the amount of people outside barely decreased. spiderman was crouched over the edge of a tall building, considering this his "rest time."

"i don't get why they're obsessed with this..." rin pulled off his mask, squinting at his phone illuminating his face as he tried to make sense of the empty blue grid before him.

it was merely a cheap, money-grabbing knock off of tetris — designed for those who seemed to specialise in incompetence and lacking the ability of putting on shoes and going outside for once in their lives. honestly, he doesn't get the hype, and in his experience, only genuine idiots seem to play this game. that doesn't include you, of course!

frustration bubbled beneath the surface as he wondered how something so straightforward could be so interesting that it risks your (and others') safety. actually, even worse, how bad good could it be that it dragged you right into the fate of stepping on a piece of gum?

this might be dangerous...

"oh?" he was expecting the tiles to fall, but instead they stayed exactly where they are, stuck in their position in some sort of awkward shape. coincidentally, the next shapes were a perfect fit, and it was easy enough to fit them into the right space, clearing the board.

'excellent!' his eyebrows furrow at the random male voice coming from the game, weirded out from the sudden praise just from getting a combo. "...i don't appreciate that." he mumbles to himself, quickly turning his volume down until it was on mute.

this was the game that you're obsessed with?

"huh?"

so then, a few minutes passed...

"just how was i supposed to fix that?"

and then an hour... maybe two...

"what—!?" his exclamation was drowned out by the distant but approaching sound of of police sirens, interrupting his little gaming session. he was this close— this close to throwing his phone over the edge.

with a childish huff, he raises a hand to rake his fingers through his hair, pushing back the strands before yanking his mask back on. duties come first, but his battle with this shitty tetris lookalike was not over.

rin never got pass his high score of three thousand eight hundred and nine that day. and he broke his duolingo streak. he was pissed for the rest of the night.

fun fact! — rin is currently learning spanish on duolingo. why? um... he cannot say.

taglist (open!)

@aise-30 @faylvrs @17020 @sara4uuu @adoresia @defnotciara @levihanmyotp @withlovesai @thenightsflower

[enviedear]

little red riding hood—even bad wolves can be good ｡𖦹° r.sukuna

🎧ྀི your next door neighbor both unnerves and entices you. caught between staying away and running right into his dimly lit apartment, you're sure ryomen sukuna is all too keen on you waltzing into his trap.

wc 3.2k | neighbor!sukuna, lowercase intended, fem!reader, i have no clue what his dynamic is w/ reader, but think big bad wolf meets red riding hood, he's absolutely bad news in this, don't talk to men akin to this irl (they're not even hot enough anyway), tw for mentions and consumption of w33d and a1cohol. this has been in the drafts 4ever it should see the light of 2025.

even if you tried your absolute hardest—you knew you'd never be able to ignore to man leaning beside your apartment door. tall, strong, but deft, he looks somewhat stoic. his face is almost wholly uninterested, save for a wince as he exhales smoke from the joint dangling carelessly in his tattooed fingers.

the lights lining the outside entrance cast him in a more eerie light than you'd appreciate. shadows of night and smoke dance across his face, recasting the ink on his features into something nearly ominous.

you're not looking for a fight or any sort of altercation, but you do feel a tug of irritation. you’re not one to hark about decency, but for a split second, you want to be. for a split second, you want to unload all your irritation onto your formidable neighbor.

that is, until he calls out your name. his voice is deep, deeper than you expect, and filled with what could only be described as...derisive intent.

"thought you were a ghost. haven't seen you since i moved in." he flicks his joint, ash settling by his feet.

you furrow your brows. despite yourself, your previous irritation has evolved into an uneasy confusion. you shift your purse from your arm to your shoulder, moving on your feet as you respond, "not a ghost—just late nights at the office."

your response is nothing if not cordial, a bit bristled maybe. yet, the man smirks in a way that makes you feel as if you said something taboo and unseemly. there's a sinking deep within your gut, a warning, you assume.

he lifts his head, smoke billowing from his nose as he exhales, chuckling slightly, "you're real fuckin' funny."

he leaves it at that, taking another drag. you finally look away from him, placing one foot in front of the other until your hands are fumbling with the lock of your door. you have zero inclination as to what he's implying—you were never trying to be amusing.

you manage to unlock the door, but right before you open it you think you can feel his eyes on you. burning into you from behind and almost beckoning you to look back. as if you stumbled into some demented version of orpheus and eurydice, called to look back to your own peril.

but when you crane your eyes over to him, his gaze is focused ahead. dark brown eyes, almost maroon, stare straight ahead. you feel idiotic—for a split second—before those simpering eyes turn back to you. slow, melodic, and full of indecorous enjoyment.

he tilts his nearly-finished joint toward you, sighing before he speaks, "here's to more late nights, little ghost." he flicks the joint to the ground, stomping it out before tossing you a nod and sauntering into his own apartment.

days later, you're fumbling with your groceries. another attempt to take in all the bags at once, stupidly naive. the setting sun casts the world in dim golden hues and you notice smoke lingering in the air—coming out of the propped open door beside your own.

then, you hear it—sultry and slow jazz music faintly fills your ears. your eyes focus on your enigmatic neighbor's door. it's open enough for you to make out the scene. he's perched on a large armchair, fist holding up his head as his eyes flit around some hardcover.

you don't mean to stare, truly, but he looks so intriguing lost in his own thoughts. he looks less brash, less daunting, and almost, benign.

as soon as the thought graces your mind—his eyes dart to you. and within an instant, that smug expression befalls, or rather, marrs his features yet again. he doesn’t seem surprised when he spots you. in fact, he watches you for a moment before the corner of his lips curl into that irritatingly knowing smirk. as if he's adulating in your predicament.

then, without missing a beat, he leans forward slightly, his voice smooth and almost teasing. “normally people ask to join instead of watching, little ghost. do you want to join me for a drink?” he's so irritatingly coy, you want to snap.

but you don't, instead, you shift your grocery bags in your arms, forcing your expression into something...friendly, "oh no, sorry. got to get these put up."

you assume it'll be left to that—he wasn't particularly pushy last time. just foreboding.

"you're fine." he nods toward your apartment, "just swing by when you're done. you look like you could use a drink, neighbor."

you almost go visibly rigid as the words leave his lips. you can feel a flicker of something—something like temptation, curling in your chest but you force it down. you’ve been inadvertently avoiding him since you met, keeping your distance, but now he’s made it near impossible to maintain that boundary. and he’s so casual about it too, like he’s already won something. something utterly lost on you.

you shift your weight from one foot to the other, avoiding his gaze, focusing on the door to your apartment instead. his words echo in your mind—swing by when you're done.

it’s an invitation. but not just any invitation—one that feels laced with something resonant, something calculated.

you’ve never engaged in something like this. never played this...illogical game that he's begun. but there’s something in the way he watches you that makes you question if you're already playing along.

you offer a tight smile, still holding onto your groceries, trying to shrug off the unnerving feeling that he sees right through you as you speak, “we’ll see.”

it’s a weak response, and you know it. but it’s all you can muster before you force yourself to head inside your own apartment.

you slam the door behind you, taking a few moments to steady your breath before putting away your goods. you lean against your counter for a while, stuck thinking back to the man mere walls away. the light outside your window is dimming now, and you can’t help but wonder—should you go over? the thought nags at you, pulls at your mind until you feel lightheaded. maybe it’s curiosity, or maybe it’s the foreign feeling you’ve been getting when he looks at you. either way, you can’t shake the weight of his voice, the tension in his words.

the longer you stand there, the more it feels like a choice is being made for you.

it’s as if the decision is already in motion, the momentum of your thoughts carries you forward despite your better judgment. each moment you spend second-guessing, you feel like you're pushing yourself closer to something you might regret—perhaps human error.

you tell yourself it's a simple drink. that’s it. nothing more. just a neighborly gesture. but the more you replay his words, the more uncertainty creeps in, making you question if you even want to say no. you’ve always kept your distance from people like him—enigmas who play games—with your patience, with your curiosity, with you but somehow, there’s something raw, almost natural, in his challenge. something daring.

you grab your phone and keys, perhaps too eager, your fingers slightly trembling as you slip them into your pockets. you’re doing it—just one drink. you can leave if it gets uncomfortable.

that’s what you tell yourself.

you step into the breezeway, and as you approach his door, you feel an odd weight settle on your chest. it’s that same feeling from earlier, the knowledge that you’re out of your element.

you knock once, the sound of it seeming almost too loud in the quiet hallway and you wince. for too long a moment, there’s no answer. but then the door swings open, and there he is again—leaning in the same casual way, like he just knew you’d come, like he was waiting. his eyes flick over you, and for a brief beat, something milder flashes across his face. then, that sardonic smirk. the one that always makes your stomach twist in a way you wish it didn’t.

“i thought you weren’t coming.” he hums, but there’s no disbelief in his tone, only that same cool, confident manner. like he knew you’d give in eventually.

you step inside, and the scent of earthy smoke and dark liquors immediately wrap around you, familiar and intoxicating. the low hum of jazz continues, setting the mood in a way that feels like it’s meant to pull you into something you won't quite want to escape from. your very own lotus flower.

the way he’s watching you—casually, almost relaxed—makes it seem like he’s done this a hundred times before. like this is truly his normal display of neighborliness.

“i don’t usually take drinks from strangers.” you blurt, your voice not carrying its usual edge. there’s something more…anxious this time.

sukuna, eyes low, chuckles abjectly, and the sound sends a ripple down your spine. his voice is deceptively cool when he says, “we’re neighbors, little ghost. that’s not quite a stranger. besides—you’ve been haunting my hallway since i moved in." he shrugs, "thought we should be acquainted.”

sukuna leans against his bookshelf, his posture, as relaxed as ever, dark eyes watching you with a half-lidded, smug expression that makes your abdomen tense. it’s unsettling, how easy it seems for him to exist like this—equally terrifying and saccharine. you feel like a fly to his honey trap, even as you stand aimlessly, trying to mask the nerves swirling in your gut.

you steady your breath, fingers nervously playing with a loose thread from your top. for a moment, it feels like the space between you and him has expanded—but the tension in the air only coagulates. you’re not sure what you expected when you bent to this, but it certainly wasn’t this odd feeling of inevitability, like every choice you make is being weighed for some unknown end.

“jus' glad i didn't scare you off.” sukuna says, his voice low, and there’s something in it that almost sounds…pleased? the smirk on his lips deepens. it’s like he’s already bested—what? you're not sure—he’s just waiting for you to catch up.

you stand there for a second too long, seemingly caught in the web of his stare, before you finally force yourself to break eye contact.

you feel like you've made a mistake, but your feet are rooted in place, your own body betraying you.

“sorry, it's not you—” you finally murmur, trying to regain your composure, “like i said, i don’t usually take drinks from strangers, or, new neighbors.”

your voice wavers just a little, and you mentally curse yourself for it. you wanted to sound firm, but it came out wimpier, almost unsure. sukuna’s smirk widens at the sound of it, and he takes a slow step toward you, the distance between you shrinking.

“thank you, for reinterating.” he says, voice smooth and almost satirizing. he reaches for the bottle on the counter, uncorking it with ease, as if this entire exchange is commonplace.

your breath catches in your throat. you almost ask him what he means by that, but you already know. he's most definitely playing a game.

with deliberate movements, sukuna pours two glasses of amber liquor, the liquid catching the dim light as he slides one across the table to you. his eyes remain on yours, a challenge in the depths of them, daring you to take it, to cross that line that’s been drawn between you two ever since you first met.

“sit down.” he commands, almost like a suggestion, but one that doesn’t leave room for argument. there's a smirk on his lips as he adds, “you’re already here, might as well.”

you hesitate. every part of you is telling you to turn around, to leave before things get out of hand. but your body doesn’t listen. you’re already stepping forward, almost against your will. the chair creaks as you lower yourself into it, the cool air in the room making your skin prickle.

his gaze doesn’t leave you for a second. you try to keep your hand steady as you reach for the glass, but the tremor is still there, just enough for sukuna to catch it. you can by the way his eyes glimmer. you feel like a lamb—sheared and lost—completely corned by...whatever sukuna’s intending.

“is something wrong?” he asks, his voice dripping with amusement. "if you don't like bourbon i think i might have a—fuckin'—wine cooler or something."

"oh, this is fine." you force a smile, edges tight, and take a cautious sip. the liquor burns down your throat, a warmth spreading through you that feels electric, and oddly comforting.

“you’ve been avoiding me, you know.” he continues, the words rolling off his tongue with easy confidence. “trying to keep your distance—but here you are.” his eyes narrow, watching you closely.

you lower the glass, suddenly aware of how tense your body has become. “i’ve been busy. i rarely even seen the other neighbors.” you reply, though the lie tastes bitter on your tongue. it’s not just that. there’s something about him, something magnetic, that keeps pulling you in, despite all your better instincts.

he chuckles, low and rich, and it sends a shiver down your spine. “yeah, i bet.” his eyes flicker to your lips for a split second, and you swear you feel a pulse of heat rush through your chest.

“you know," he adds, almost lazily, "you’re not as good at hiding shit as you think."

the words hang in the air, starkly plain and utterly forward. but the longer you sit there, the more it feels like you’re already too deep into this mess to give up—so instead—you play into his hand. forcing your best poker face.

“hiding what, exactly?” you ask, lifting your glass again, masking the waver in your voice with the pretense of taking another sip. the burn of the bourbon is sharp, grounding, as you let the question hang between you.

his smirk stretches wider, dangerous and knowing. sukuna leans forward slightly, resting his forearms on the edge of the table. the movement brings him closer, closer than you should let him be, but you don’t lean back. his dark, piercing eyes lock onto yours, pinning you in place like a moth beneath glass.

“oh, you know,” he drawls, voice like silk unraveling. “you keep looking at me like you’re afraid of what i’ll do, but you’re still here. sitting at my table. drinking my liquor.” he gestures lazily toward your glass. “it’s almost like you like me, little ghost.”

the nickname lands heavier this time, carrying with it a weight that makes your chest tighten. you want to argue, to deny it, but something in the way he’s watching you makes the words die in your throat.

“maybe i’m just polite.” you finally say, though it comes out weaker than you intended.

“polite,” he repeats, the word rolling off his tongue like it’s something foreign, something absurd. he chuckles again, low and rich, shaking his head. “sure, we’ll call it that.”

you hate the way he says it, like he knows something about you that you don’t. like he’s already mapped out all your weak spots, and this is just a game to see how far he can push.

“you’ve got this whole mysterious thing going on, huh?” you shoot back, trying to shift the focus, to regain some semblance of control. “the jazz, the bourbon, the…attitude.” you wave a hand vaguely in his direction. “feels a bit rehearsed, in my opinion.”

his smirk doesn’t falter. if anything, it deepens.

“is that what you think?” he asks, leaning back now, casual and entirely unbothered. “that i’m just some guy putting on a show for you?”

“maybe.” you don't even believe the sound of your own voice.

“interesting.” he picks up his own glass, swirling the amber liquid slowly before taking a measured sip. the movement is so deliberate, so practiced, it’s almost infuriating.

“what’s interesting about it?”

“just that you think you’ve got me figured out.” he shrugs, setting the glass down with a soft clink. his eyes catch yours again, like a light to a match.

“you don't.” sukuna quips, his voice a perfect blend of arrogance and amusement. “which i guess means i’ll have to work harder to keep you entertained.”

you roll your eyes, though the small gesture doesn’t carry the weight of real dismissal. no, you're enjoying this game. “entertainment isn’t exactly what i’d call this.”

“no?” he leans forward again, close enough for the faint scent of smoke and something darker, sharper, to bully your senses. “then what would you call it?”

your breath hitches, but you recover quickly, meeting his gaze head-on. “a mistake, maybe.”

he laughs—deep, and rumbling—a sound that feels like it’s sinking into your very bones. “funny thing about mistakes,” he hums, eyes gleaming, “you don't strike me as the sort of woman to willingly make them.”

the room feels trimmer suddenly, the walls pressing in as his words hang heavy in the air. you’re not sure if it’s the bourbon, the heat of his gaze, or something else entirely, but the tension between you feels like a living thing, coiling tighter with each passing second.

“you’re awfully sure of yourself.” you manage, voice steadier than you expected.

“confidence comes easy when you’re right.” sukuna’s lips curl into a grin that’s equal parts smug and predatory. “and you’re still here, aren’t you?”

you hate that he’s right, hate that your body seems to defy all logic and reason when it comes to him. but most of all, you hate the flicker of curiosity, the pull that has you leaning into his orbit even when you know better.

“maybe i just wanted a drink.” you counter weakly, lifting your glass as if to prove a point.

“maybe.” his tone makes it clear he doesn’t believe you, not for a second. “or maybe you just wanted a closer look at me.”

your lips part, a retort already forming, but the words never make it out. sukuna moves before you can react, his hand closing over the bottle to refill your glass with a smooth, practiced motion. the intimacy of the gesture, the deliberate care in it, makes your pulse quicken.

“you’re full of assumptions, you know that?” you say.

“and you’re full of surprises,” he chuckles, sliding the glass back to you. “guess we’re even.”

the silence that follows is thick, charged with unspoken words and unacknowledged truths. sukuna doesn’t press further, doesn’t break the moment with more of his usual taunts. instead, he watches you, waiting, like a predator content to let its prey come willingly into its jaws.

and then, without fully realizing it, you lift the glass again, the cool rim brushing your lips as you take another sip. his eyes follow the movement, dark and unrelenting, and you can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking—what he’s planning.

“so,” he says finally, his voice a low hum that cuts through the quiet. “you gonna keep avoiding me after this?”

“probably.” you reply, though the word feels hollow, your resolve already crumbling under the weight of his gaze.

“or probably not,” sukuna counters smoothly, his smirk returning with a dangerous edge. “you’ve got that look, you know.”

“what look?” you ask, despite yourself. you shouldn't encourage him.

“the one that says you’ll be back.” his voice dips lower, the words brushing against your senses like a physical touch. “sooner or later.”

you should deny it, should stand up and leave and never look back. but instead, you find yourself lingering, the warmth of the bourbon spreading through you like a slow-burning fire. his smirk widens, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking, like he’s already won.

and maybe he has.

because as you finally rise from your seat, his eyes tracking your every movement, you know this isn’t the last time you’ll find yourself here.

not by a long shot.

[saintzweig]

tashi duncan x ditzy gf!reader hcs <3

୨ৎ think season 1/ pre-lobotomy cat valentine!!!

୨ৎ tashi could not remember how the two of you even became friends, with your personalities being so far off each other. she's more ambitious and disciplined while you were carefree and ... silly :p

୨ৎ you was adopted into her friend group after a project (art and patrick) and the next thing she knew, you were following her around like a puppy.

୨ৎ she felt kind of protective and possessive over you, to be fair you were very accident prone so it felt natural but unlike anything she's ever felt towards anyone.

୨ৎ like during parties, when you've had too much to drink (your limit is like, three sips) she gives you water disguised as champagne. she thinks it's funny you get giggly like you were actually drinking alcohol.

୨ৎ has one hand on your backpack every time you're walking together so she can pull you away from anything that can potentially trip you.

୨ৎ the transition from being friends to girlfriends wasn't hard and surprising to anyone, you two have been acting like you were more than friends even before she realized she likes you. the only difference now is tashi's not fighting the urge to kiss you whenever she felt like it.

୨ৎ she has a hard time controlling her temper when she hears other people talk about you and your 'airheadedness'. she hates backhanded compliments especially, "oh it's so cute that your girlfriend is so dumb, i bet you like taking care of her"

୨ৎ she does like taking care of you, but you weren't dumb. you're just ... easily excitable.

୨ৎ tashi enables your lip balm hoarding addiction too, buying you the silliest flavors she comes across when shopping. loves playing 'guess the flavor' with you too :")

୨ৎ when she's busy with training or she's far away for a competition, she sends art to make sure you're okay. has him walk you to class during his free time and join you during meals to make sure you finish your food.

୨ৎ doesn't like you hanging out alone with patrick ... you're easily persuaded and god knows what he'll have you do, it's nothing bad, but knowing patrick he'll be reckless.

୨ৎ the last time you were left alone with him, he convinced you to convince tashi to do a car wash charity thing because he wants to see college girls in their bikinis :/

୨ৎ she said no

୨ৎ will say yes everytime you ask her the question 'will you still love me if i was a worm'

୨ৎ you gifted her a worm named after you so she can take care of it but she lost it three days later. (only art knows that it crawled out of it's box and ended up climbing on patrick ... it's in heaven now)

୨ৎ she spent a week trying to woo you into forgiving her, trying to convince you she'll be more careful if you actually turned into a worm.

୨ৎ leaves you alone during exam weeks because she knows you're so easily distracted, but once it ends she'll make it up to you by taking you out on well deserved dates and having sleep overs.

୨ৎ helps you dye your hair every time and will use the left overs on the tips of her hair so you can match :)

୨ৎ wears your bra strap on her wrists during games for good luck <3

[billysgirllol]

"you'll do that for me?" really, she should stop askin' him that. clearly, he'll do all the good deeds for her. but surprise once again comes and takes over all over again. she just can't believe it. "just be as careful as you can, i'm sure you will be though." a gentle smile spills over her visage, if he's been this gentle with her tangled up curls without making her wince once. the warm water he spills over her back chases out the shivers that were creeping up, how much more tentative could he possibly be? "well we didn't, til you pointed it out." a little laugh bubbles up. "'course. it's the truth." about him and horses being very intelligent, she wonders why no one's told him that before. it's an admirable trait. "why not? you're allowed to." saying sweetly, figuring he just feels like being polite which is kind of him once more.

"i believe that is what i'm sayin'..." didn't really know what she wanted to believe herself. "one time in the woods, we spoke on that. i told 'im everyone's born with a natural goodness. and how.. it's up to us whether to use it or not. he thought that was funny when he scoffed at me and didn't think it was true. i see why now." jaw clenching at the reminder, "i guess he knew deep down he didn't feel any goodness. and i understand... getting angry is a valid reaction. yelling, throwing things, stormin' around... that's a valid reaction. that doesn't make a person evil. but he tried takin' my life, he took three lives. he wanted to make me a fourth. if i didn't upset him that day, it was just a matter of time he strangled me or somethin'. he pretended to care and then has capability to take my own breath. ...does that still mean he was born good?" questioning herself, "i'm not sure." lucy gray really didn't want to believe people were born evil, but what does she think when someone tries murdering her. "i think about that, too. a lot." on what would happen if she turned back around when he kept yelling at her, they could 'talk it out'.

"but like birds... i didn't trust it. i don't know if he'd still point that gun at me. but i have a bad feelin' he would've pulled the trigger even if i had been loyal. i don't think coriolanus is the type to freak out and then expect he'll calm down and still be nice to you." that would've been enough alone for him to put a bullet in her. so it was definitely best she kept running once she already made the move. "oh, it is. it's definitely accurate." the story is insanely accurate, she's witnessed it firsthand. "i appreciate you wantin' to look out for me..." the add in about reva blue cute and making her smile but the worry takes back over. "i just don't want you getting involved, he could hurt you too. i wouldn't be able to live with myself." and what if he'd hurt her over his own brother when it came down to it? nothing can be trusted anymore. "coriolanus may never care a single thought about wonderin' if i'm alive or not. he may be convinced i am, for all i know. so hopefully... it never has to be an issue. but it's the unknown that worries me." knees still folded, arm wrapped around her legs, turning back to face him in the slightest.

“once we’re done here, i’ll wash it and it’ll be as good as new,” he promises, knowing how much sentimental value the dress has. fingertips absently stroking her hair, not even trying to brush it anymore, just trying to make her feel good and help her relax. “i haven’t, by the way. gone through your songbook, i mean.” in case she’s wondering. she gave him permission to do so last night, but it seemed too personal, too invasive. “thank you, lucy gray.” it’s been a while since someone complimented his heart. people often admire what’s on the outside — his blue eyes and dark curls, his nose or cheekbones. she’s one of a very few who seem to care more about what’s underneath. “it means the world to me. i won’t let you down, i swear it.” scooping up a handful of water, he carefully pours it over her back to ensure she stays warm. “so are you, little bird. you’re very smart, too. way smarter than me.” she wouldn’t be here with him if she wasn’t highly intelligent. she wouldn’t have escaped coriolanus. which is still such a strange thought… “oh, yeah?” thankful for the distraction, he lets out another laugh. “never noticed you were also bird-sized and i was horse-sized,” he counters, getting to see her sense of humor for the first time and letting it bewitch him. he adores this side of her, but it has him wondering if this is the girl that she used to be — full of sassy remarks and giggles and sweetness. maybe she’ll be that girl again one day.

“i see…” billy hums, nodding his head even if she can’t really see him. he quickly picks up on what she’s implying, putting two and two together. the stories that she told him last night… “you don’t think my brother was born with a good heart, is that what you’re sayin’?” as children, they were like daylight and dark. polar opposites. but can he call that little boy evil? sure, they’d had their differences, but he wasn’t bad to the bone. he didn’t chase stray cats around the neighborhood or rip the wings off flies. “i’m not sure if i agree. maybe the capitol and our grandmother did that to him.” or maybe he was born with evil already inside him and it just came to light later in life. who knows? “i’m not defendin’ him, just thinkin’ out loud,” he says quickly when lucy gray’s head snaps around, looking at him with something that he can’t quite name or understand. it has him wondering if he’s said something wrong. a small, uncertain smile remains plastered to his visage, his own heart picking up pace. “did i —” say something wrong? but before he can get the words out, she’s speaking up again and he’s falling silent. gesturing for her to carry on.

“you planted a snake to scare him away and slow him down?” dark brows lifting, impressed and wary in equal measure. what if she still thinks he’s coriolanus? will he wake up with a snake under his pillow one morning? and lucy gray nowhere to be found? the idea has his heart missing a beat, chest constricting. but if she wanted to run, she would have done that while he was out by the creek. “i didn’t know ‘bout that. i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to bring back any bad memories with that story.” features softening, understanding her reaction better now. amusement fills his eyes, and he can’t help but think it’s such a badass move, setting a snake trap. “oh, i bet he thought it was venomous. what does he know ‘bout snakes? nothin’. i think that was a smart move. risky but smart. and it served its purpose, right?” it’s scary to think that his own twin brother was trying to hunt her down, shot at her, but then he thinks about their father, the kind of person he was… and it’s not so surprising anymore. “you think he would have hurt you anyway? if you came back to him instead of runnin’ away and plantin’ that snake?” is his brother truly as ruthless and heartless as their father? his heart aches for lucy gray, but for coriolanus, too. it must be awful, living that way, filled with hatred. “mhm, yeah. it’s just a silly story, but the moral is very accurate, i think. if you go through life with hatred festering in your heart, you’ll never be happy. but if you learn how to forgive and focus on healing from the bad experiences, you’ll be alright.” as if reading her thoughts, he adds, “he won’t ever find you, lucy gray. reva blue and i won’t allow it. we will always protect you. i will protect you.”