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yelenasdog · 2 years ago

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vibrant, saccharine, his ☼ (fwb!mat barzal x fwb!fem reader)

genre: filthy smut, fluff, angst with happy ending

summary: pretending is getting harder, for both of them. and after a hard roadie, mat’s not sure if he wants to pretend anymore.

words: 8.7k (WOAH)

warnings: cursing, excessive use of parentheses, friends with benefits arrangement, smut, unprotected piv, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, blood (reader bit lip too hard oops!), pet names (baby, sweetheart, pretty boy), reader is described as having sisters and a dog, food mention, idiots to lovers, misunderstood situation, reader uses she/her pronouns, and i think that’s it.

a/n: when i started this, i originally was just writing a blurb and then it turned into a full ass fic with a plot?? and fwb??? idk man, im nervy to post this since ive never published for nhlers before but oh whale! and ty to @eminems-skittles for reading this for me and checking it over 🤍 love u

“You played so good, baby.” She breathed, welcoming him home with open arms.

“Not good enough, apparently.” He responded, letting her fingers card through his raven locks. Soft, freshly cut. She loved when he grew it out, but yet again it was him, so anything worked.

She sighed, letting her thumb fall to his cheekbone, knowing what he was referring to. It had been the last stop of the road trip, he’d had a hatty and despite making it to OT, it wasn’t enough in the shootout.

He’d had to wait an entire flight and car ride afterwards to see her, only giving her a brief text when he got off the ice (“We lost. Had a hatty. Fucking Toronto.”) (like she hadn’t stayed up to watch the game) and another when he landed.

And after so long of whatever the two of them had going on, she’d known better than to try to send him some long and winded attempt at a pick me up message. She settled for just responding “I’ll be here.” She didn’t need to say it though, he knew she’d be there.

She always was.

To anyone else it would’ve been sad, how she waited up for him, late nights spent lonely with just her and her dog, as he jetted around North America. In her mind, he was no doubt giving himself away to whatever random puck bunny threw herself his way.

Despite this, she was loyal, even though she had her suspicions about what he did when they were apart. And frankly, it wasn’t a part of the “deal” that they had to be exclusive, and it was none of her business. But truthfully, after so long, she couldn’t count on some washed up juniors player to give her even a fraction of the satisfaction he had.

So, she did this whole routine, whatever this was. She stayed up late watching his games, sitting on her couch in his sweatshirt he left. She wouldn’t admit it out loud, but whenever she wore it, she liked to pretend.

Pretend that she was an obedient girlfriend wearing her loving boyfriends sweater. That as she sat curled up waiting on the corner of the beat up black sofa, 3 coffees in at approximately 1:37 am, she would be rewarded for her efforts come morning time.

That her and said loving boyfriend would lounge around together in bed (after he woke her up in the best way he knew how, showing her how grateful he was. Like I said, she loved when his hair was long enough to tug on, and even though she endlessly made fun of his patchy stubble, she couldn’t deny how delicious it felt burning between her thighs. Especially after they’d spent so long apart.) Then they’d go and grab late brunch, holding hands under the table as they sipped mimosas, which were Mat’s guilty pleasure only her and the waiter knew about, before heading home.

Maybe then they’d FaceTime his mom back in Coquitlam, an early riser with the 3 hour time difference. Mat had felt bad interrupting her morning routine, but she’d never pass up an opportunity to talk to her boy and the girl who she hoped was her future daughter in law.

After they got off the phone, she’d tell him how much she loved his mom, how her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. He’d tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, watching as she leaned into his touch.

“Missed you, Mat.” She’d say, closing her eyes.

“I missed you more.” He’d respond, his voice nearly a whisper. Her eyes would flutter open, and he’d recognize the look in them immediately. He felt his blood rush, and suddenly their proximity, which he’d never get used to, was very obvious.

“Oh yeah?” She asked. “I doubt that.”

He swallowed, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. Her eyes hungrily swept over them, wanting nothing more than to lean forward and capture them with her own.

But patience is a virtue, she supposed.

“Want me to prove it, pretty boy?”

Words failed him, and all he could do was nod. He relaxed into the sofa, watching as she dropped to her knees in front of him. Her hands were on either thigh as he fought the urge to lay his tired head back onto the beat up pleather behind him. It had been too long, he thought. And he’d be damned if he was going to miss out on seeing her do what he’d only imagined in the shower, or over the phone for the past 16 days.

She reached her hands up from the muscle of his thigh up to his tummy, her cold hands shocking him as she reached under his sweatshirt- the same one she’d been wearing before.

Her hands drifted, down, down, down, to the waistband of those damn Lululemon shorts she’d got him for Christmas. He held his breath, watching as they danced around where he needed her most and then-

The doorknob turns, and she’s brought back to reality. Sleep had almost claimed her, iced coffee left abandoned on the coffee table, a ring of condensation already drying on the glass. She attempts to smooth out her hair, hoping that her brief almost-nap hadn’t left her too disheveled.

Not that he’d care.

She stood to greet him as he opened the door, hockey bag, and garment bag, and duffle bag, and backpack, and- God, did he really need all that- and suitcase, dropped unceremoniously as he entered the threshold. He kicked the huge bag to the side, and it landed right under where her keys and her leash for her old mutt, Warrior, hung from the wall.

Above the leash hung a picture of her and her sisters, with her running shoes on the floor beneath it for easy access. They were nearly squished by the gear, and if it had been anyone else’s shit crushing her 160 dollar sneakers, she’d be angry. But the sight of his bag near her shoes was so weirdly domestic, she could’ve cried.

She, yet again, was snapped out of her fantasy by the closing of the heavy door, watching as the man in front of her shuffled forward, immediately allowing himself to be held by her. His head fell to her shoulder, and rather than the usual clash of teeth and shoving to get to her room, (they never went to never his place after a roadie. He needed to be away from the constant reminders of it all for awhile, just to be surrounded by her) she simply dropped a chaste kiss to his temple, letting her arm drop from his hair to his broad shoulders, squeezing once, twice, three times, on either one.

He stood up, and she led him to her room, though he knew the way well enough. Her hand in his felt nice, comforting, even, and he wasn’t going to complain. In the beginning of the arrangement the two of them had, touches like that had been normal. But as time went on, the barely there brushes and gentle caresses stopped all together.

He wanted to say something, wanted to ask her what was wrong, if it was something he did. But when he was off the ice, Mathew Barzal was not a man who liked to push his luck. So he didn’t. He let the touches slip away, and took what he could get from her.

Which right now, was toeing off his shoes, and crawling onto the plush comforter of her bed. It smelled like that sparkly ”fairy dust” shit from Lush he saw sitting on her bathroom counter once, cotton candy and bubblegum infiltrating his senses. That, and her favorite floral perfume he was all too familiar with on her pillow. A combination of scents he usually would find too much, sickly-sweet. But it was her, and that alone made it the most soothing aroma he’d ever known.

Initially when he’d gotten off the ice, the adrenaline had been pumping, and his anger had been rampant. All he’d wanted was to get home to her, have his way with her. To have an outcome he could control.

He’d kept himself relatively calm in the locker room, not having any outbursts towards Ilya, or anyone for that matter. If any of the guys had noticed he was uncharacteristically quiet, they didn’t say anything.

That is, until the bus ride to the airport.

He had been typing out his text to her, (Hatty, lost in OT, Toronto, you know the one), when he had felt a pair of peering eyes. Sitting in the back of the bus, he’d thought he’d done well to avoid such glances, but apparently not.

“Y’know, you shouldn’t be sulking so much.” A certain French-Canadian spoke, the brunette man’s tired eyes lingering over Mat’s hunched over form.

If there was one thing he didn’t need right now, it was more pep talks from Tito. He’d had more than his fill in the locker room. And though he loved the guy, he didn’t need to be told again how he “did everything right” and had a ”killer game”.

Because he knows, and that’s partly why he’s so mad.

Partly. As the other part is the fact that he wants more than anything to come back to NY to her arms. He was exhausted at this point, and rather than having his way with her, he now just wanted to be welcomed home into those ridiculously cozy sheets. He wanted her to light up all those overpriced candles she loved so much from Bath and Bodyworks, and for Warrior to snuggle up by him, stinky dog breath be damned. He wanted her to turn on ”Miracle” in the back as white noise, and laugh as she repeated all the lines from memory. (He may be Canadian, but he can appreciate a heart warming story told by Kurt Russell when he sees one.)

More than anything, though, he wanted her. And not just for an hour or two before he inevitably dragged himself out of those silky sheets that felt heavenly on his back, leaving her sleeping beside him. She looked peaceful in those moments, and he often wondered what she dreamt of. If she was dreaming of him as he did of her.

Bottom line was, Mathew was the victim of a series of unfortunate events. And the man to his left could recognize that it wasn’t just the hockey that was bothering him. (Though, that whole situation did suck pretty bad, he’d admit.)

So when Anthony told him he shouldn’t be sulking, he flashed him a tight lipped smile and a nod, before looking out the window at the Toronto sunset. The oranges and pinks were stunning, and more than anything their vibrancy reminded him of her. The smile she’d give him in her post-orgasm glow, or of the orange blossom on the bottle of perfume on her vanity. Beauvillier’s gaze never faltered, though, recognizing the deep train of thought his close friend was experiencing.

The screen of his phone had begun to darken, the draft of his message just barely visible. Tito’s eyes quickly shifted from the screen and back up to Barzy, opening his mouth and pausing momentarily.

“Who’re you texting?”

Mat quickly turned off the device, the “click” sounding out in the quiet bus cabin, most of the Islanders players catching some shut eye or watching that new Game of Thrones spin off.

Personally, Mat didn’t get the appeal.

“Nobody, just… a friend I’m visiting tonight when we get back.”

Anthony’s eyebrows went up, making a face of understanding as he slowly nodded three times.

“A friend, huh?”

Mathew nods, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and letting it go. “Yup.” He adds softly for good measure, popping the p.

“You visiting a friend after a game like that, this late, hm?” Another pause. ”Must be an important friend.”

“Yeah.” His voice is soft again, compassion coming across his features and he thinks of her again.

“Well“, Anthony starts, popping in his earbuds and opening his phone to his Music app. “I’d say whatever’s going on with this friend seems worth talking to her about.”

Mat‘s head snaps up, and he scoffs, shaking his head.

“I didn’t say that it was a she-“

“You didn’t have to, buddy.” Tito winks in the most annoyingly-Tito way, and chuckles to himself. He then lays his head back onto the navy material behind him. Mat “hmph”s to himself, doing the same. He turns his phone back on again, going to the chat between the two of them. The still blinking cursor seems like it’s mocking him as he runs a hand over his face, hitting send.

If there’s gonna be any deep, emotional shit, it can wait until he’s not 2500 miles away.

7 hours later when he finally crashes through her front door, he swears the relief he feels mixed with the sense of dread it all might be over in an hour, gives him whiplash. But nonetheless, she welcomes him in, and she feels like home.

Warrior watches from the couch, his tail lazily wagging as he observes his owner greeting the man who occasionally slips him bacon from his Starbucks sandwich. His old man (old dog?) body doesn’t find the arrival of the hockey player worthy of leaving his nest on the sofa, as to him that’s all Mathew Barzal is. The bringer of bacon.

To Warrior’s owner, though, he was so much more.

The trek to the bedroom felt like it took an eternity, and as he laid on her bed, he couldn’t help but wonder if it would be a bad idea to push his luck for once. Risk ending it all to gain everything.

She laid down next to him, and he shifted, going from laying with his arms crossed under his head, to one next to her head, the other keeping him stable from his position on top of her.

Her hand crept up to push an unruly lock out of his eyes, and she leaned forward, and he met her halfway. They paused briefly, taking each other in after so long, before finally closing to distance.

He tasted warm, like cinnamon and something she couldn’t place, and she wondered if at the airport he’d gotten one of those pretzels she knew he liked so much. To compliment his psychopath reminiscent black coffee, of course.

His hand went from where it had been cradling her face down to rest on her hip. The soft touch elicited a whimper, and at that he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers.

She recognized that something was off, swimming around in that pretty little head of his. A small frown etched its way onto her face, and she lifted his chin up so he had no choice but to look at her.

“What’s wrong, Mat?”

He took in a shaky breath, looking over to his left, where the TV was on some random wallpaper, a sunset, he realizes. He scoffs, looking back at her.

“Can you just- can we- can I- fuck.” He mutters, slowly falling down so his body weight is nearly on top of her.

“Can you just… hold me?”

She swears she’s never heard him sound so broken.

“Yeah, baby, ’course. C’mere.” She replies softly, allowing him to fully rest on her. It was a miracle that he didn’t fully break down right there, at the feeling of her fingertips dancing over his skin, under his pushed up shirt. His nose was cold against her neck as he dragged it up against her to come to her cheek, pressing a kiss there. His eyes never opened, afraid that if they did, it would all just be another elaborate fantasy he’d created to pass the time.

“Is this a good idea?” Came her voice, cutting through the silence.

He sniffles. “What do you mean?”

“This. Us.” She says, not able to meet his gaze where he’s lifted his head.

“We’re going to get hurt. More than we already have.”

Oh. Oh, fuck this was happening right now. Mat sat up, feeling like a scared teenage boy. Damn you and the way you read people, Beauvillier. Maybe this would’ve been easier from 2500 miles away.

“We don’t have to.”

“What other option do we have?” She said, sounding defeated, like she already knows her answer and she doesn’t like it. “I-I can’t keep doing this no strings attached shit. Not when you do this. Not when you come here all beat up like some sad puppy.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. And he was.

“Don’t be. I should’ve known this would happen.” Her voice was soft, her eyes distant.

“That what would happen?” He questioned. She looked at him like he had two heads.

“That you’d leave, Mat. That this whole pretending bullshit wouldn’t be enough for me.”

He leaned forward again, catching her off guard.

“I’m not leaving you. I’d never leave you.”

She looked away briefly, mentally cursing herself for being so emotional as tears began to well up in her eyes. He fell to her side, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“Do you really want this?” She asked, the tears rolling down her face illuminated a hue of pink from the salt lamp on the bedside table. Mathew reached out a hand, dragging his thumb over the droplet. He hated that she was crying, but fuck, she sure looked pretty while doing it.

His answer came without thought, he’d done enough of that on his way over.

“Yes. I want you in every way, if you’ll have me.”

A small smile came onto the corners of her face, and she nodded, shortly at first, but more exaggerated as they started laughing, a small “yeah?” escaping from Mathew. She responded with the same, and he took that as his sign to reach forward, closing the distance between them.

And like all the times before, they fell into their routine, her hands going down to his hips, lifting the gray material of his shirt over his head. He returned the favor, the two of them moving in sync as she lifted her hips and he gently slid off her shorts. He ran his palms along her bare thighs and she shivered at the feeling, a reaction that didn’t go unnoticed by Mathew.

“I missed you, y/n.” He admitted, running a hand through his, now, unruly hair.

Another vibrant smile came across her face, easing whatever nerves Mat had left over from his confession.

“I missed you more, Mathew.”

He shook his head, dipping down to leave sloppy kisses on her neck. Taken aback, she let a shaky breath escape. He pulled back, satisfied with the response he’d pulled from her.

“Not possible.”

In a moment of boldness (and a slight hope to allow a fantasy to come to life) she challenged him.

“Prove it, then.”

His eyes darkened, then, and he surged forward. Her remaining clothes, which was just his sweatshirt and a flimsy cami, were gone in an instant. She was left in just a pair of black undies, Mat nearly cumming on the spot at the sight, like he’s some horny teenager. His apparel soon joined the growing pile on the floor, as she made a remark about how it wasn’t fair he was still so covered.

She shamelessly raked over his naked form, save for the black boxers, with his firm muscles, sore from the roadie, prominent as ever. She might’ve been drooling, she wasn’t sure. He smirked, the effect he had on her not lost to him.

The two began to kiss again, and there was no other way to describe it other than that it just felt right.

Mathew wasted no time, allowing his hand to trail down and cup her clothed heat, his thumb passing over her clit and past her entrance with a feather light touch. She shivered, her hips lifting up to chase the brief sensation. He pulled her panties to the side, teasing her entrance with his middle finger.

It was immediately covered in her slick, as was the black fabric he’d moved aside. It made him groan just from the sensation alone, making her chuckle at his behavior. Her laugh soon was cut off as he sunk the finger in, giving her no time to adjust, not that she needed it with how ready she was for it, before adding another.

His palm just barely grazed her begging clit as he pumped in and out slowly. And as she continued to lift her hips trying to feel him deeper, push his hand closer to her clit, she fully expected him to push her down and put her in her place.

But this whole thing was about showing him how much he missed her, how much he appreciated her. To show her that he was staying. And him staying meant that he’d have plenty of chances in the future to be an insufferable tease, but right now wasn’t one of those times.

“Matty, please-“ it was more of a breathy whine, not intelligible to an untrained ear. But thankfully for her, that wasn’t Mat.

“You want more, baby?” He questioned, knowing the answer. She nodded, hair splayed around her like a halo on the pillow. She was still illuminated from the TV screen and the salt lamp, making her look like an angel of sorts, not of this world.

“Look at me then, sweetheart. Wanna see that I’m makin’ you feel good.”

Her eyes that met his were glazed over and doe like, and it melted Mat’s insides at just one look. He did his best to push down the mushy feeling that arose, before realizing he didn’t have to anymore. He could feel as sickeningly in love as he wanted, no consequences.

“You’re so beautiful, baby. So needy, fuckin’ perfect girl.” He remarked, adding in a third finger. She let out a borderline pornographic cry, and Mat picked up his pace. His gaze only faltered from her face, contorting in pleasure, back to where he was pumping in and out of her, unable to resist the urge to watch in amazement.

Though her legs were flailing, going from propped up to sliding down and spread, rustling the comforter, she somehow had enough mind to reach a hand down. She attempted to run tight circles around her clit, but not before her hand was pinned to her side by the center above her,

“No, baby. Lemme.”

His range of motion was wider and his thrusts harder as he curled his fingers to perfectly hit that spot inside her that made her see stars, fully trailing his hand over her sex. He repeated the action again, and again, and again- and fuck, she didn’t know how long she’d go on like this but she never wanted the feeling to stop.

He felt her tighten around him, and he picked up his pace, knowing she was almost there.

“Mat!” she managed to get out between strangled moans and panting breaths. He leaned down, kissing below her ear on the one spot he knew drives her crazy. She was halfway thinking, well, less than halfway with her state at the moment, that he would cruelly pull his hand away as she reached her peak. So she clamped her thighs together in an attempt to trap him, subconsciously more than not.

It didn’t stop him from grinding his palm against her like he had been, leaning down to capture her lips with his in a searing kiss.

Everything at once was just so much, the obscene sounds coming from both their mouths and her wet heat, the feeling of Mathew’s bare skin on top of her, the feeling of warmth radiating from his body, and oh my God, after so long it’s fucking finally happening-

He felt as her chest seized and she pulled away from the kiss, her head slamming back before falling to the side. She cried out, her orgasm hitting her like nothing had before.

He found her lips in the chaos beneath him, his hand parting her thighs as she went lax, lazily pumping in and out as she rode out her high. Her slick coated the inside of her thighs, and Mat pulled away momentarily and she whined, like the little brat she was allowing herself to be.

He only smirked, leaning down to kiss on her collarbone, letting his tongue sweep over the seemingly shimmering expanse of skin before him. He moved further down, savoring the taste of her, how it felt to be so close to her. No guards up, no shields, no screening involved.

She moved her ring clad hands to run fingers through his locks, that fucking smile coming across her face. He looked up from where his hands were holding either side of her waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh just enough to not make it hurt, but to say “I’m here. I’m not leaving.” His chin rested above her bellybutton, and he felt suddenly seen, bashful almost. He continued his trail down in a half assed attempt to hide his face, her breath hitching when he made it to her mound.

Her breath barely returned to her as he skipped over where she thought he was headed, instead opting to take her right leg over his shoulder, moving down the expanse of it to her ankle. He brought his eyes to meet hers, and a tender hand ran up and down the distance of it. He kissed the inside of her ankle, making his way up to the skin where her thigh met her already aching sex.

He lightly nudged his nose against the area, before attaching his lips. He started sucking on the skin there, licking her clean. Satisfied, he moved to the other side, beginning his good work.

“Mat,” she broke her silence, her voice splintered and low, “don’t tease. Please.”

He raised his eyebrows, seemingly in jest.

“I think we’re a little far gone from teasing, eh?” He asked, and truthfully, one mind blowing orgasm later, they were.

She chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever hotshot.”

“New nickname?” He questioned. “I like it.” He huffed, returning to his place between her legs. “But I fucking love this pussy, baby.”

And with that, he dove in. He immediately groaned at what he had found. (Which, obviously, caused her to tug at that perfect head of hair, eliciting another groan.)

If possible, she had become even wetter with the mix of his spit and her nectarine juices. It dripped down his chin, and he wanted to stay there forever. He’d found solace there, he thought. No Maple Leafs, no Tito, no hatty that meant jackshit in the end.

Just her and her consummate being. Vibrant, saccharine. His.

He wasn’t sure how long he spent drawing her closer and closer to the edge, but somewhere between repeated chants of praises and whatnot, he’d slipped.

“Fucking love this cunt, fucking love you-“

He hadn’t realized what he said, and if he had, he didn’t seem to care. But his words alone were enough to rip an unassuming orgasm from her. She didn’t allow herself long enough to think about if he meant to say it or not, or even to ride out the aftershocks rolling through her nerves. She grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him away from her glistening cunt and up to where she connected their lips.

A small sound of surprise, not reluctance, escaped from where they were joined. Her hands came to cradle either side of his face, and Mat thinks that he might’ve cried from the tender action. He wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t going to ask. Hey, it’d been a long day.

“You mean it?”

He realized what he had said, then, eyes wide and somehow his face even more flushed than before. He considered lying, like when Tito had asked who he was texting and he’d said a friend.

But where would that leave him, he wondered?

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I did.” He added after a beat of silence.

And in those few moments nothing had seemed scarier.

Not when he was 18, getting skipped over by teams in the draft, and that voice in the back of his head had told him that, somehow, everyone had collectively decided to skip Mathew Barzal. Not when he was 19 playing in his first game for the Isles, having to follow up Auston Matthews first NHL game where he had four goals. Four. Fuck.

No, all that was topped by this. By the same fear he’d had earlier when he’d been on the bus, or when he’d arrived at her apartment.

But all of that fear was dissolved in a second after her laugh sounded out in the small bedroom, her eyes crinkling at the edges. She pulled him down towards her, and the sound of her laughter pulled a radiant smile from the hockey player that he felt like hadn’t seen the light of day in a long time.

She rolled over on top of his chest, leaning forward and throwing her arms around his neck. His chain was glinting, now, in the light she had previously been bathed in, and it caught her eye as it rested against his milky complexion.

“You looooove me.” She regarded in a sing-song voice, and Mat rolled his eyes despite the smile growing on his face. She leaned down, and Mathew’s grip on her bare hips tightened, all too aware of the wet spot left on his stomach from her leaking sex.

She mirrored his previous movements down his chiseled body, a regular Adonis in his own right. She left open mouthed kisses, the wet patches from them adding to the thin sheen that covered his body. She made her way down to his boxers, the obvious tent making her stifle a laugh. He caught it though, of course, and rolled his eyes for what seemed like the millionth time.

“Laugh it up, babe. Laugh at my misery.” He commented, to which she only shook her head.

“Patience is a virtue, Mathew.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Well, he had a point there.

So rather than talk, she decided she’d put her mouth to good use. She pulled down his boxers at a painstakingly slow rate, watching as his cock slapped up against his stomach. Her mouth watered at the sight, the tip red and weeping, begging to be attended to. He kicked off the boxers, paying no mind to how they slipped onto the floor, forgotten. She didn’t either, as she was sure he had to have some extra in one of his gazillion bags sitting in her entry way.

Her nails scratched down his stomach, angry red lines puffing up and decorating around the expanse of his skin. They were accompanied by freckles and marks and scars that she could have mapped together with her eyes closed. She knew Mathew like the back of her hand. And with that, came knowing how to make him come undone in her hands.

She started leaving small kisses at the base of his shaft, before swiping the bead of precum from his head down to the rest of him. She pumped her hand a few times, and Mathew let out a strangled moan. She thought he couldn’t get any louder, feeling bad for her neighbors at whatever hour in the night it was, but she was quickly proven wrong.

She licked a long stripe from the bottom to his tip, before taking as much of him into her mouth as she could. She bobbed her head a few times, jacking off whatever she couldn’t fit with her hands. She hollowed her cheeks, and the rise and fall of Mathew’s chest quickened. The sound he let out was animalistic, and it sent another wave of arousal through her body. She moaned involuntarily, and the feeling caused Mathew to buck his hips.

“You’re doing so good, baby. ‘M not gonna last with you going at me- shit- like that.”

He brought a large hand down to the side of her face, lightly stroking her cheek. It was a moment of wholesomeness that reminded them what they were now, what he had said.

Mat could tell she was tired, her pace decreasing. The look in her eyes never changed, though. And as he went to speak to tell her it was okay, and she didn’t have to (and because since it had been so long, he was scared he’d bust his load if she wasn’t careful), she pulled off.

A string of saliva followed, and the sight looked like a thumbnail of a shitty porno. Her eyes were droopy and glazed over, and Mat’s hypothesis was proven correct.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to finish. Let me take care of you.” He repeated his sentiment from earlier. She only shook her head, continuing to jack him off with her hand. Oh. He thought. That’s not what I was expecting.

“S’okay, Matty. Wanna make you feel good.”

She ran her thumb over his tip again, her glassy and swollen bottom lip hanging ajar as she concentrated. The moans he was letting slip free could only be described as pathetic, the 190 pound hockey player putty in her hands.

“I’m gonna cum if you don’t, God, baby, shit! I-If you don’t stop.”

And then she pulled her hand off, and he let out a quick breath at the momentary relief, if that was even the right word. But it was short lived, and she managed to hoist herself up, dragging her folds along his cock, before stabilizing herself with hands on his chest. He slid inside of her, and the sounds they both let out echoed off her walls.

She started moving, and then it was “You’re fuckin’ amazing, you know that? So fuckin’ amazing. My girl, my perfect girl.” He rambled, the events of just that day alone scrambling his mind trying to keep up. Similarly to how she felt earlier, everything was just too much for the poor man. She felt like Heaven around him, and he watched in awe from below her as she moved, enamored by the woman he loves.

As she became more and more tired, her movement slowed, reduced to her grinding herself down on his cock. Mat was barely hanging on, trying to make it last as long as possible. He could tell she was close too, as she squeezed him like a vice, and put her energy into picking up her pace.

“Fuck, Matty. Feels s’good. Love you- shit! I love you so much, baby.” She told him, her eyes closed and her face screwed up as she chased her high. But something snapped in Mathew at her confession, and with a quick “fuck” under his breath, he flipped the two of them without ever leaving her.

He was relentless.

He slammed in and out, and at the sudden change in position and pace, she was blindsided. She thrashed around him, her hands everywhere at once. Her hair, his hair, grasping at his shoulders, scratching down his back. She settled for his biceps, as his hands were planted. One on the right side of her head, the other gripping her hip bone so hard, she was sure it’d bruise.

“It’s only ever been you, baby. I promise you.”

“Shit, Mat!” She cried, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She loosely draped her legs around his middle, allowing him to reach new depths within her. He was fucking her senseless, and they fucking loved it.

“It’ll only ever be you. I love you. Fuck, I love you so much, Y/n.” His hair hung in his eyes as he fought to keep them open. He shook it out of his eyes, wanting to see her as she came in all her glory.

“Love you, Mat. So much, baby. You have no idea.”

His pelvis snapped harder against her, just barely reaching up and grazing her clit in the most exquisite way. The rope in her stomach began to tighten for the third time that night, so close to breaking she could almost taste it.

Actually, she could taste it, she realized. She had been biting down so hard on her bottom lip she could taste the metallic tang on her tongue, and fuck, it was all the more delectable.

“Mat!” It was another exclamation, followed by more babbles. “‘S too much, Matty, can’t do it.” Her voice was small, and despite the nature of the statement, Mat felt his heart flutter.

He shook his head. “Yes, you can, baby. I know you’re tired, but you can do it, Y/n. You’ve got another one in you sweetheart, pull through for me. I’ve got you.”

And never one to disappoint, especially not her Mathew, she did.

She came, and she came hard. But it wasn’t dramatic the way you’d think it’d be, at least not outwardly. Her breathing stopped, her toes curled, and her nails dug into the skin on Barzy’s arms. It wasn’t accompanied by a loud scream, or a drawn out, high pitched moan. It was a breath of relief that left her when she came, her head falling to the side and her eyes closing. A quiet moan of Mat’s name, and she was clamping down on him.

The sweet way his name fell off her tongue, mixed with how she was so damn tight around him as she came, and he was done for. It triggered his own orgasm, and he felt the same feeling of peace wash over him that she had as he spilled into her. He fucked her through it, soft thrusts calming whatever aftershocks they both were experiencing. She had gone limp under him, her eyes opening as she gave him the sweetest smile he’d ever seen.

He stayed in her, lowering himself onto his side, then maneuvering them so she was laying on him. They were a cliché and they knew it, but they couldn’t seem to care. A few moments passed in comfortable silence, before it was broken by Mathew’s scratchy post-sex voice. Swoon.

“So,” he started. She raised a brow, wondering where he was going with this.

“You looooove me, too, then?” He mimicked her tone from earlier, and they broke out in a fit of laughter as she slapped his arm and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I guess you’re alright.” She feigned annoyance, propping herself up on her right arm as she faced the man she loved. Mat scoffed, blowing a strand of hair from his forehead. “Just alright? You’re crazy, lady.”

“But you love me.”

Not a beat passed before “I do.”

She smiled softly, lifting up a hand to run a finger along his jaw. He caught it with his own, never breaking eye contact as he kissed her palm. Again, swoon.

“I know.” She responded, wanting to stay in that moment forever. But, she knew that if she stayed where she was too long, she’d more than likely fall asleep in record time. So, she pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, which he turned to catch before she could go, pulling her back for a “real” kiss at his protest.

A petulant child, that’s what he is.

She pressed one more to his lips for good measure, before pulling himself off of him. They both let out disgruntled sounds at the sudden losses, and it took all her energy to sit up on the edge of her bed. She felt a strong jaw on her shoulder, and she leaned into it.

“Where you goin’? Leaving me all alone isn’t very nice.” She could hear the frown in his voice, and even though she knew he was joking, it tugged on her heartstrings that little bit.

“Gotta pee.” She said, standing up and walking towards the connecting bathroom. “Sorry baby, no UTIs for me.”

The frown stayed cemented on his face.

“You should be grateful,” she threw over her shoulder, shutting the door. “No UTIs, more fucking, yeah?”

He chuckled at her bluntness, deciding to go and get her some water and maybe a snack. Shit, he didn’t know. What was he supposed to do? Usually when they fucked before, her or Mat would be out the door as soon as possible, still trying to ward off those pesky feelings. But now, he was allowed to feel said pesky feelings, and he’d be damned if he fucked it up.

So, snack. And water? Yeah, water, for sure. He was hungry and thirsty, why wouldn’t she be. He had no idea the way around her kitchen, nor how to, er, actually make anything, so this would be rough. But, first, a pit stop.

He would have walked butt-ass naked into her kitchen, really, but then he remembered Warrior was out there and he didn’t have a need to traumatize that dog any further than he already was.

(It was one time, okay? He didn’t know she had a dog, he’d been asleep on his bed by the TV when they’d gotten to her place. And at the time, Mat was too preoccupied to notice.)

He looked around on the floor for the offending clothing item, slightly grossed out when he did finally find them. It was only for a minute, tops, is what he told himself, as he pulled on the boxers from earlier in the night.

He tiptoed, for literally no apparent reason, through the dark apartment until he found the bag he was looking for. He grabbed what he needed from it, struggling with the zipper while trying to close it, before giving up. On his way back to her room, he gave Warrior a nod and smile, and he swore the mutt gave one back. Okay, actually, on second thought, he remembered the clock on her microwave saying it was 3:18 AM, so, maybe he didn’t.

It was late and he just had the best sex of his life with the woman he loves. Give him a break. So what if he’s delusional and thinks he can communicate with dogs? At least he’s pretty.

When he gets to her room, he pulls on the newer, clean, pair of boxers, setting the other pair he grabbed from his bag on the bed for her when she got out of the bathroom, along with an Islanders shirt that he’d secretly always wanted to see her in. Too soon? Maybe. But after so long yearning for everything domestic and wholesome and good that he was convinced he didn’t deserve with her, he was indulging a little bit. So sue him.

His next stop, snacks. And water, can’t forget the water.

The water was easy enough, he got lucky. He grabbed her “emotional support cup” as she’d called it before when she thought he wasn’t listening, and went over to the fridge. He got a few ice cubes and put them in, and then went over to her Brita. He stood there, pressing down on the little lever, watching the steady stream of water into the cup. It was almost laughable, how he stood there in the dead silence, concentrating so hard. He was determined not to somehow do something wrong, even though it was just pouring a cup of water. Cute.

He checked the pantry once the cup was full, with the lid safely screwed on top. The rustling about caught the attention of Warrior, who hopped down from where he’d been on the couch, moseying on over.

Mat, who still was slightly wary of Warrior, despite the fact the dog would cause him no harm, shook his head at the mutt.

“Sorry, buddy. I don’t have anything for you.”

He turned his head and gave him puppy dog eyes, pulling out all the stops. Mat sighed, looking back to the pantry. He saw a box of Milkbones, and looked back to Warrior, who was egging him on. (They’re telepathically connected, remember?)

He reached in the box, pulling one out, and tossing it down. Warrior gratefully accepted, taking his treat and waltzing off to his bed to chow down. Mat looked in the pantry, going to close the box, when he sees it, his saving grace.

White bread, hallelujah.

He can do toast. Mathew Barzal is a totally capable 25 year old man who can make toast. So, he takes the bag, going over to the toaster. And-

One look at all those fancy buttons, and he’s tapped out.

Okay, it’s okay, he can remember seeing a vending machine on his way into her apartment. Yeah, he remembers her telling him about having to sign off on some HOA form for it, even though she was just renting. Apparently, her landlord hadn’t signed, which made it her job. Whatever, that’s irrelevant.

He figured that there wouldn’t be anybody out in her hallway at 3:23 AM, so he grabbed his coat with his wallet, shrugging it on over his bare back. His slides were somewhere in his hockey bag and the last thing he wanted to do was stink up her whole place by opening that Pandora’s box. So, barefoot it is.

He does his best to sneak out the apartment, leaving the door ajar as he makes the short walk to the vending machine, grateful his search was over. He let out a long sigh as he stood, wondering what to get her.

For himself he decided on a bag of cool ranch Doritos, and a bag of those tiny cookies. For her, he racked every corner of his brain for potential options, before realizing how long he’s taking, and how long he’d been gone. So, not wanting to waste any more time, he elected for one of everything.

He punched in the numbers and paid, attempting to grab them from the machine. Trying to pick up the few that had fallen, he leaned down. His attention was called elsewhere by the ”click!” of a door a few units down. His head snapped to the source of the sound.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” He muttered under his breath upon what he saw.

A man probably not much older than himself, suitcase and backpack in tow, donned in, you guessed it, a New York Islanders hoodie a lá number 13.

The man had yet to notice the star player down the hall from him, and Mat was considering just making a run for Y/n’s place. But either way, he would have to go past the man, or the man would have to go past Mat to get to the elevator. Maybe he’d take the stairs? He hoped. Shit, who was he kidding, he’s not taking the stairs.

Starting his walk over, the unnamed Islanders fan lifted his head, stopping in his tracks. His jaw dropped, and if it wasn’t purely because of being in the presence of Mat Barzal, he had a hunch what it was.

Said hunch, was that it was due to the fact Mat Barzal was standing in front of him, in an apartment complex definitely not boujee enough for him to be living in, at 3:25 in the morning, naked, except for boxers and some fancy trench coat, holding several bags of snacks.

Mat would’ve laughed at the guys face, but he thought he wasn’t quite in the position to do so.

“Hey, man. How’s it going?” And a stupid bro nod, was all Mathew could manage.

While he was facing that debacle, Y/n was having one of her own.

After she’d gone to the bathroom, she decided to try to do her nighttime routine, too. She put on her robe from where it had been hanging in her bathroom, beginning her little routine.

When she emerged 10 minutes later, Mat was nowhere to be seen.

His bags were still by the door, albeit one of them hastily thrown open. Was he leaving and had gotten some clothes and an Uber? Did he have last minute regrets? The door to her place was left open, and an overwhelming sadness began to take over her system. As the tears began to well up, she looked over to Warrior, only to notice him chewing on… a milkbone? How the hell did he get a milkbone?

She sniffled, wiping her sleeve under her nose. She sat down on her couch, looking at where her iced coffee from earlier was still sitting, ¾ of the way empty. The tears started to flow freely again after that, and she stood up, deciding that she should at least shut the door. She didn’t need to deal with a robbery, too.

As she stood and turned, she was met with a very discombobulated and very underdressed Mat trying to shove his way through the door.

“Have a good flight, man. Enjoy Miami!” Mat called over his shoulder to what sounded like her neighbor Gian, based off of the “Thanks bro, good luck this season!” she heard back.

She slapped a hand over her mouth, trying to not bust out laughing at the sight in front of her. Hearing her snickering, he looked up gesturing to the bags in his arms.

“Hungry?” He asked, the smile on his face falling when he saw the red around her eyes. He dropped all the snacks on the couch to his right, making his way over to where she stood.

“Hey, hey, why’re you crying? What’s wrong sweetheart?” He questioned, and his sincerity made her smile widely.

“Nah, I’m all good, don’t worry about it. Just thought you’d left, that’s all…” A pause. “But I see now that you just had a case of munchies, apparently.”

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders pulling her towards his chest. His chin rested on her head, and she closed her eyes, inhaling his scent.

“No, baby. God, no, I’m not leaving. I just wanted to do this whole thing right, and I thought you might be hungry, and I tried to make toast- your toaster is really complex by the way,”

She pulled away from him as he rambled, her smile reaching her eyes.

“And I filled your water and set out clothes for you and I really did try, baby. I didn’t mean to fuck anything up, really.”

She giggled again, taking hold of the shoulders of his jacket, shrugging it off. She folded it over the back of a barstool, then turned back towards Mat.

“And Gian?”

“Oh yeah, he’s cool. Ran into him in the hallway and introduced myself. Going to visit some family in Miami.”

She raised an eyebrow, nodding her head in understanding. She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his middle.

“So, am I gonna have to compete with him for your attention now whenever you come over?”

He reciprocated the action, one hand coming up to rest on her chin.

“I mean, he’s gonna be gone for two weeks, but after that…” he shrugged, trailing off. She hummed, and he smiled at her, leaning forward. He searched her eyes for any remaining upset, unable to find any, before he pressed his lips to hers. It was sweet and gentle, with not a hint of rush or fervor.

When they pulled apart, she was smiling again. Her hands found their way back to his neck.

“And baby, you’re amazing. You didn’t fuck up anything at all, I promise.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” She whispered, leaning in again to connect their lips. She let her tongue sweep over his bottom lip, biting down just barely before pulling away. She pushed down the sleeves of her robe just a bit, exposing her shoulders. Y/n took his hand, and started walking backwards, letting it slowly slip out of hers as she did.

“Come on, hotshot. Come to bed. Snacks will still be there in the morning.”

She smiled again briefly, before walking towards her room, the robe slipping down as she went. Mat stood watching her in total awe, glued in place, until he was knocked out of his trance.

“Hurry up! And lock the door, too, please!”

He had never obliged to anything quicker in his life.

(And as for the snacks, they were not still there in the morning, thanks to a certain mutt who managed to rip open all the packets on the couch. The next morning was spent at the vet, who had told them Warrior would be fine, just fat. The vet had only said this, though, after Mat had consoled a crying Y/n, who was under the impression he was going to be poisoned.

The rest of the day after that? Making up for lost time.)

FIN.

YO idk if that was good or not i kind of feel like i imagined writing the entire thing and it was a fever dream. but. anyway! if you liked it, be sure to reblog <3 thank u i love u! go eat some protein and drink some water.

xx, hj

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skibidilando · 7 months ago

Text

A Day at quadrant: LN4 (Part 2)

Author note: I don’t even know how to post anything on this and never wrote a fic but I hope this is good but I think it’s pretty shit and I haven’t finished it yet and if any writers want to use this idea you can for sure just @ me please oh and if you have feedback please let me know thanks xx

Also i tried to change my like writing style thing cause i feel like it was shit last time but yeah idk

Lando x quadrant fem reader

Blurb: reader is a member of quadrant, she games most of the time but also likes f1 along with her best friend Ria bish. She is friends with all members at quadrant and finds it a good laugh with all her mates, but maybe her view of someone in particular is more than a mate..

Warnings: sexualising, swearing, mention of a gun, leaked tape, sad distraught reader, friends to maybe lovers if I make it a series? Smut-ish? If I missed any let me know (I don’t know how to do warnings sorry x)

Well wasn't last week a fucking eventful week. You still cant stop thinking about Lando right next to you comforting you about what happened. You're starting to feel better about the whole issue and get some support from people online and all the other members of quadrant, but fuck that was just shit. You haven't been in any quadrant videos since, but you're in a better place now and probably need to start participating in them more.

Lando and ethan make the idea of quadrant meeting up at landos apartment and trying to train like him for a day. You aren't exactly looking foward to it but oh well, at least Ria is going. You text your gc back and tell them that you will do it too. Then, you get a message.

Lando: are you 100% sure ur okay to come back and film already? you dont have to if you dont want to.

Y/n: yep. I need to get in more videos and im feeling better anyways, thanks for asking.

Lando: all good

Well that was polite and unexpected of Lando to reach out, but whats more unexpected is for your panties to be soaked right now over 2 text messages. well fuck, oopsies.

That night all you can think of is Lando, it's a bit embarrassing to admit, but he was circling around your head like it was an f1 race. You decide to get your head out of it and call Ria to come over and have a chat, since she is your best friend after all. Shortly she pulls up to your apartment in Monaco, funning in bursting of excitement to see you.

"RIAAAAAAA!" you shout when you open the door for her. "Y/NNNN" she replied back. You give her a hug and make her a cup of coffee just how she likes it. You guys sit and chat about the f1 grand prix in Bahrain coming up, and how you hope Lando continues to have a good season with Oscar this year. "Did you see the chat about the new yt vid we doing" You ask Ria. "omg yes and they are bringing angry ginge in I heard" Ria replies back.

"STOP IT" you yell back laughing. You love ginge and his videos, who wouldn't? he's a very very funny bloke. "OMG i''m definitely coming tomorrow then to the recording are you kidding?".

Unfortunately time goes by when you're having fun, and Ria was the most fun, so she had to go a few hours later which felt like minutes. Besides you both need sleep for the youtube vid you're filming tmr at Lando's. You go to bed and try to sleep as much as you can, which didnt happen lol.

rise and shine love. It's already 6am and time to go to Lando's place to film. Normally you don't have to wakeup early as fuck but for the purpose of the video and "being Lando Norris" you had no choice. You get to his apartment after parking at the front and knock on the door, to which he opens. "hi y/n" he says nicely and gives you a hug. "So good to see you Lando, where is everyone?".

"first here mate" he says almost excitedly. "so what are we actually doing today like playing video games or some shit" you say. "haha your funny mate, we are lifting weights, eating what i eat, using the sim, and neck strengthening" he says laughing at you. "fuck r u taking the piss" you say laughing. "oh my days Landoooo do I look like an f1 driver" you also reply with. "well yeah thats the whole point of the video ya dumb fuck" he replied jokingly.

"hahaha get fucked lando nowins" you snap back. he laughs as you proceed to miss the chair you went to lean on making you flinch and stumble looking like an idiot. he is still laughing which makes you laugh too. "Lando norizz" u reply. "haha you think I have no rizz, funny" he replies egotistically. "yeah i do actually" you don't at all, in fact he hasn't even tried yet he has rizzed you up. "wanna bet?" he snaps out.

you don't have time to think before he pins you against the wall and just looks at you with those hot eyes of his. you can already feel your cheeks burning and your thong getting wet. "you say I have no rizz yet your cheeks are burning, and I bet those panties are more soaked than that porridge you tipped over the counter when you stumbled at my gaze, huh?" he grunts out.

what the fuck just happened, first how did he know and secondly did he just pin you against the wall. not the first time you want that to happen. you know what fuck it if we wants to be like that then he may as well be uncomfortable the whole video.

"how did you know about my tight, black lacy thong i'm wearing over my tight pussy hey? not your first time thinking about it aye?" you tease him, but while walking over to him you see him looking uneasy.

why? because ginge was at the fucking door and heard that, and can see Lando's boner from a mile away. "well bonjour" ginge says laughing. "bonjour mate" lando says as he daps up ginge covering his boner and trying to ignore what just happened.

You already know this video is gonna be the longest set of your life..

sorry its a short one x

#lando norris #formula 1 #quadrant #ln4 #f1 fanfic #ln4 x reader #lando fic

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wnbnny · 9 months ago

Text

happiness looks good on you- lee felix

summary: you love felix, but he doesn't love you back.

warnings: sad ending, angst!

author's notes: hi everyone<3 this is my first fic, kinda wrote this at like 3am on a whim instead of sleeping but like😭 idk why i made this so sad (is this a sign im depressed or something) but hope u enjoy!! please to comment ur user if u want to be tagged in this or my future posts<3

"happiness looks good on you."

raging storms and unshed tears.

"happiness looks good on you."

heartbreak and rainy days.

"hurry up lix, we're going to be late," you complained, brow furrowed as you stuck your bottom lip out in a pout.

"if you really want to go to school that early just walk there yourself." felix taunted, knowing you were scared to walk alone. he was your long-term best friend, inseparable since kindergarten 'til today.

the two of you argued and bickered on the way to school, throwing insults at each other. by the time the both of you had gotten to school, you were both given a scolding and told to sit down. you glared at him as you were being scolded while he just snickered.

the audacity of this man, honestly .

by the time class had finished, you had cooled down, just like felix knew you would. otherwise, he could just stick out his bottom lip while you huffed and pretended to be mad.

"y/n!" he gasped, clutching at your arm, "areum just looked at me!"

he squealed, like a little kid at the toy shop, over his long time crush.

if only you looked at me in that way.

because i do.

"nah, she probably was just looking at someone else." you lied through your teeth, feeling your heart sink.

"hey, stop being mean!! she clearly looked at me," he pouted.

you sighed.

i've loved you for years and you've never noticed.

"well just confess to her already then."

it was painful watching your own crush and best friend fall for someone else, someone that wasn't you.

you wished, rather selfishly, that areum would reject him. then you could be the shoulder he would cry on. not her. but honestly, you couldn't bring yourself to hate her. what was to hate? she was pretty, got good marks, and was friendly and easygoing. not to say you yourself weren't pretty, but you just weren't as pretty and hardworking as her.

and you weren't the one he wanted.

maybe the pain would end if they just ended up together and you were out of the picture. it was obvious she liked him too.

"you really think i should? but what if i get rejected..."

you're so blind but i still love you.

"yes, how many times do i have to say this, she likes you. it's obvious." you rolled your eyes.

"should i just confess tomorrow? better late than never..." he trailed off, worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth.

gods you look so cute when you do that.

"yeah. get her some flowers and write her a note."

why were you breaking your own heart? you didn't know why. maybe you just wanted to end your own heartbreak.

"good luck with that, anyways i need to go to s house for a project." you actually didn't, but you would do anything to just escape from this.

"why~~are you really just going to leave me alone to plan my big confession by myself," he whined.

"sorry lix, but you'll figure it out." ruffling his hair, you walked out the classroom.

you did, in fact, go home. then sat on your bed and cried until you couldn't physically squeeze any more tears out of you. so this was what heartbreak felt like. you had known him since the both of you were ten. you had have multiple crushes here and there, but they were just passing, fleeting moments, nothing of importance. until him.

you didn't know when you had first started to like him. maybe it was that time in the library where he was helping the librarian stack books. maybe it was that time in the rain where he danced in it for hours.

maybe it was one summer day where your world just exploded in colours.

and now it felt like it was fading back to grey.

the next day, felix came bouncing up to you.

"i got her peonies, do you think she'll like it? i told her to meet me in the garden."

"yeah, she'll definitely like it. i would've too... " you muttered the last part all to yourself, turning away and blinking rapidly as tears threatened to prick your eyes. you offered him a smile of encouragement.

"good luck."

when lunch came, you watched as the nervous australian carried the peonies and went to the garden.

then you watched as they walked in ten minutes later, smiling bashfully and holding hands like schoolchildren in love.

because they were.

you went home, not even bothering to call in sick. you just grabbed your bag and went home. you would deal with the consequences later.

your heart hurt.

you were numb.

you were hollow.

you were crying.

you hated everything.

the next few days were spent at home. you called in sick. felix texted you countless times but you ignored him.

lixie<3

y/nie?

where r u?

she accepted!!!

im so happy>.<

read at 2:03 a.m.

yeah, right. good for you. but what about me?

lixie<3

...hello?

y/n?

can u please respond...

im worried...

what happened???

why didn't you come to school today??

read at 3:46 p.m.

you turned off your phone then turned over and cried again. you hated this. why did you have to fall for him in the first place?

finally, after four days of missed calls, texts, and school, you had to go back. its not like you had a choice anyways. you missed your parents. they lived overseas though, so you lived alone. but you really couldn't continue living like this for the rest of your life, even if you wanted to.

"y/nie!!!" felix exclaimed, running up to you. "why didn't you respond to my texts? are you okay? it's unlike you..."

"im sorry lix, i was just under the weather. im ok." you offered him a tight lipped smile. "congrats by the way." you closed your locker door and rushed off before he could ask you anything more.

"huh? thats unlike her... why is she acting so weird lately?"

and so you avoided him, as much as you could. you kept your conversations short and brief, not talking to him as much as possible, and even switching seats to sit far away from him. you watched his hurt face the day he walked in and saw you sitting somewhere else, but then cheering up as areum sat next to him. you watched as he laughed and held hands, ate tteokbokki and ramen with her in the cafeteria. that should've been me.

but honestly, it did nothing to fill the felix-sized hole in your heart.

you drifted apart. he barely texted you now, barely said hi to you, barely even saw you in the hallways anymore.

then exams were finished, and graduation started to roll around.

you watched as they attended prom and twirled around on the dance floor giggling.

you watched as they broke up on the doorstep of his dorms, watching as felix's face fell when she dumped him for another guy.

you didn't have the heart to tell him i told you so.

so you busied yourself in your exams, earning a scholarship to your dream university. felix tried reaching out to you several times to rekindle your old friendship, but you would always politely decline, preferring to be detached instead of going through more heartbreak.

you still loved him, but the once burning passion had now been reduced to a soft flicker every now and then, sparking ever so slightly whenever you saw him in the corridors. your own felix-shaped hole in your heart hadn't decreased over the years, but your heart became bigger, expanding so that other people could fit in it. the hole would always be there, but at least there was space for healing.

you turned around in the backseat of your friends' car to see the campus you had once called home fading away into the distance and felix along with it.

goodbye, the wind whispered.

"happiness looks good on you, lix. i hope you make the best of it."

#lee felix x reader #felix x reader #skz x reader #skz #stray kids #gn reader #angst #sad ending #lee felix #high school au #heartbreak #lost love #heartache #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x gender neutral reader #stray kids x you

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strwbrryeyes · 5 months ago

Note

can u do daichi and/or tsuki x tennis player! reader who plays singles (1v1 instead of doubles which is 2v2 lool)? hcs or fic would be fine :3 esp w a reader who hurt their wrist mid season n is rlly frustrated bcus they can’t play until next season unless their wrist gets better bcus that happened to me <//3 (i play anyway even if my wrist is shit bcus i love tennis; daichi would scold me so bad for it too <//3) thank uuuu, i think u mentioned exams (or finals idk the difference) in ur latest posts so i hope they went well!!!

𖦹°｡⋆ Wristache and heartache (daichi x reader)

⟡ cw: angst, reader has an injusry and feels hopeless, comfort, fluff, lmk if i missed anything

⟡ a/n: i dont know anything about tennis. im alos bad with titles.

Daichi Sawamura had always admired your dedication to tennis. As the captain of the Karasuno volleyball team, he understood the love and passion that athletes carried for their sport. Daichi also knew the importance of listening to your body, something you seemed to be struggling with ever since you badly injured your wrist.

The injury has been a big setback and it was starting to take a toll on you. The season was in full swing, and you were supposed to be playing singles matches, something you were no doubt the best at. Yet here you were, on the sidelines, forced to sit out due to the sharp pain in your wrist. You couldn’t even try to step foot onto the court during games or team practice because your coach had made it clear: no matches until you were fully healed and cleared by the doctor and although this decision was the right one and a necessary one, it still left you feeling frustrated and heartbroken.

Despite the pain and coach’s orders, you couldn't stay away from the court for too long. Every day after school, you'd find yourself at the community center’s tennis courts, practicing your serves and forehands, wincing occasionally when the pain shot through your wrist. You knew it was risky, but tennis was your entire life and ticket to a scholarship for university. You couldn't afford to be away from it for possibly the rest of the season. However, your secret trips to the tennis court were short lived.

Daichi watched you from a distance one afternoon, his brows furrowing with concern. He had come to pick you up like he has been for the last few day, but seeing you push yourself despite your injury was beginning to worry him more than usual. He approached you slowly, hands in his pockets, trying to find the right words.

“[name],” Daichi calls out with a firm voice that had a hint of worry “we need to talk.”

You looked up, surprised to see him there. You hadn't expected him to come this early. "Hey, Daichi. Just give me a few more minutes. I need to work on my backhand." You said before turning back to throw a tennis ball into the air until Daichi took the tennis racket away from you.

Daichi shook his head, his expression stern. "No, we need to talk now. You're pushing yourself too hard. You need to rest."

You sighed, frustration bubbling up inside you. "I can't just sit around and do nothing, Daichi. Tennis means everything to me. If I don't practice, I'll lose all I’ve worked for these past three years!" you say as you snatch your racket back from him.

He walked over to you, taking the racket from your hand gently once again and setting it aside. "And what good is practicing if it only makes your injury worse? You won't be able to play at all if you don't let your wrist heal and then that’ll make you feel worse!”

"But what if I never get better? What if this is it for me?" Tears of frustration welled up in your eyes as you shout at Daichi.

Daichi's expression softened. He reached out, cupping your face in his hands. "You will get better but to do so, you have to be patient. I know it's hard and the last thing you want to do right now, but sometimes the best way to keep going is to take a step back and heal. I'm here for you, and I am sure your team is too. You don't have to go through this alone."

"I just miss it so much, Daichi. I feel so useless." You leaned into his touch, finding comfort in his words, allowing you to let a few tears roll down your face.

"You're not useless," he assured you, his thumbs brushing away your tears. "You're one of the strongest people I know. Strength isn't just about pushing through pain, it's also about knowing when to rest and take care of yourself."

You nodded, his words sinking in. "Okay," you whispered. "I'll try to rest more."

Daichi smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "That's my girl. And don't worry, I'll make sure you stay out of trouble."

You chuckled softly, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "I'm counting on you."

The following weeks were a test of your patience but as promised, Daichi kept a close eye on you, making sure you followed the doctor's orders and rested your wrist and the rest of your body, making sure you were fully relaxed and at ease. It wasn't easy, and there were days when you felt like giving up, but Daichi's support helped you stay strong the whole way through.

He'd often join you at the courts, not to practice but to keep you company as you watched your team practice while you were on the sidelines. He'd even bring his volleyball team along, turning your forced downtime into fun, supportive gatherings as everyone loved their captain’s sweet girlfriend. It wasn't the same as playing tennis with your team in the moment, but it reminded you that you had a strong support system no matter where you went, and that made you feel so much better about this tennis break.

Slowly but surely, your wrist began to heal and you started feeling better. The day you were finally cleared to play again was a moment of pure happiness, not just for you, but for everyone who had supported you through this slump and setback.

As you stepped onto the court for your first match back, you looked over to the sidelines where Daichi stood along with his own team, cheering you on with a proud smile. You knew you couldn't have made it through without him.

And as the match started, all you could feel was happiness, determination, and most importantly, thankful for your loving boyfriend who was there for you every step of the way because without him, you aren’t sure you would have made it through these last few weeks.

With Daichi by your side, you can do anything.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu x reader angst #daichi sawamura fluff #daichi x reader #daichi sawamura x reader #daichi sawamura #daichi x reader fluff #daichi x reader angst #daichi sawamura x reader angst

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player1064 · 5 months ago

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gary goes into business instead of broadcasting post-retirement. carra still goes into puditry. they don't know each other/end up as friends.

they both end up on the same season of I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here and fall in love. this is highly apparent to the entire audience.

I've not done a request fic in like two months bc I've been so zoomed in on the beville fic but I wanted to write something quick and silly and yes this request has been sitting in my inbox for more than THREE months but dont worry i did not forget about it I haven't forgotten about ANY of u.

and this really is quick and silly it is Mostly dialogue bc idk how else to convey the Vibes of im a celebrity but I had soooooo much fun with this dkjfgdfjsgkk...

---

“I’m Gary Neville, I’m a businessman but I’m probably best known for my football career, playing 602 games for Manchester United and earning 85 caps for England.”

“What am I doing in the jungle? Mid-life crisis, I suppose.”

“I’m no stranger to public humiliation – just look at my coachin’ career! My only worry is the food – I do love a dairy milk, to be fair.”

“I’m Jamie Carragher, and I’m best known as a football pundit with Sky – am I allowed to say other broadcaster’s names on here? – and for winning the Champions’ league with Liverpool.”

“I’ve always said the jungle is the only reality show I’d consider doin’, so I guess it’s time to put me money where me mouth is.”

“Scared? Eh, no, I don’t think there’s many challenges I wouldn’t do. You don’t get to where I’ve got without that drive to win.”

Jamie walks into camp, takes one look at the group of people stood in front of him, and almost considers walking straight back out. Would that work, saying the catch-phrase outside of one of the challenges? ‘I’m a celebrity, get me away from Gary fucking Neville?’

“Jesus Christ,” Gary mutters. “Don’t you ‘ave some children to spit at or somethin’?”

“Don’t you ‘ave a football team to coach – oh no, sorry, they both fired you.”

“How the fuck are they lettin’ you take three weeks off in the middle of season? What’re people gonna do when they want to listen to two hours of Scouse gibberish?”

The rest of the campers watch on, no longer even attempting to come and introduce themselves to Jamie.

“And how’s your club gonna manage without yous, eh? What if they need someone to fire another manager?”

“Yeah, I uh… is it mean to say I hope one of them gets voted off soon? Don’t get me wrong, they’re both perfectly nice guys, but…”

[yelling heard from outside the hut]

“…Yeah.”

The first pairs challenge, shockingly, goes off without a hitch.

This is not a surprise because the challenge was particularly difficult – it’s early days, they’re still easing everyone in – but because of who the public had voted to complete it. Because the public is the public, and they’re nothing if not predictable.

“All twelve stars! I’m pretty pleased w’that, you know.”

“Typical fucking Neville, taking the credit for his partner’s hard work.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t seem to recall you crawling about in the mud to get the –”

“—I was the one doin’ all the heavy lifting!”

“Of course you were doin’ the heavy lifting, look at the fuckin’ size of you!”

“Ugh.”

Jamie storms off camera and back into camp, leaving behind a bewildered looking Gary.

“He’s a bit of a diva, in’t he?”

“The first few days? Erm, it’s been goin’ alright, I think. I’ve been told I’m not always the easiest person to get on with, so it’s a pleasant relief that the others seem to – I mean, obviously not all of the others, but – but he’s –”

“Oh, I’m loving camp. Missing the gym a bit –” for emphasis, Jamie slaps his bicep – “but the food’s not as bad as I were expectin’, and the banter is sound – we’re all great friends already –”

“—well, no, but you can’t count him. He’s so weird, ‘ave you seen him? Like a little robot, doin’ everything exactly the same every day.”

“Another pairs challenge…”

“I don’t get why people keep voting for us to do these trials. You’re useless at ‘em anyway, do they want to see us starve?”

“Maybe I’d be able to get more done if you didn’t always insist on bossing me around, James. Can barely hear myself think over that Scouse screech of yours, it’s a wonder me eardrums haven’t burst yet.”

“It’s a wonder nobody’s killed themselves in the boredom of having to listen to you drone on and on all day. Did I actually hear you talkin’ about the stock market the other day?”

“The stock exchange, oh my god. It’s my hotel, which you’d know if you took part in any conversation that’s not about you.”

“I can’t believe they let you have that.”

Jamie looks with pride down at the football he’d chosen as his luxury item, then drops it and kicks it towards Gary’s head. It’s wide by about a metre.

“Oi! If you were a half decent footballer that could’ve actually hurt me, you twat.”

“’least mine can benefit everyone in camp, what even is yours?”

“Fidget toy, innit. My niece got me into them, gives me something to do with my hands.”

“You’re a strange little man, you know that right?”

Gary, who’s still positioned closest to the football, picks it up and lobs it into the trees surrounding camp.

“Come have a kickabout with me?”

Gary looks around but there’s nobody else sat nearby. “Me?”

“No, Cristiano Ronaldo. Of course you, who else would I be askin’?”

“Literally anyone else here?”

“It’s not as fun when you’re better than everyone else –”

“—ah, so you admit I’m a better footballer than you!”

“That’s not what I said!”

“What are you actually doin’ in here? ‘cause no offence, Gary, but you don’t really seem the reality show type.”

“Dunno. Was having a rough week when the email came through, thought it might be nice to get away from everythin’ for a bit.”

“’and you, Jameh?’” Jamie says in a squeaky parody of a Manc accent. “Oh, thanks fer askin’, Gaz. I was worried I was goin’ soft, now that I’ve been retired for so long. Wanted to prove to myself I can still be a winner.”

“Still? When were you ever a winner before?”

“I’ve won a Champions’ League, I’ll have you know!”

“I’ve won two!”

“Have you fuck.”

“Who’s your letter from, then? Missus?”

“No, my brother,” Gary says absently, then he looks up from his letter with a frown. “I don’t have a missus, what’re you on about?”

“Don’t you? I could’ve sworn, in Baden Baden with the WAGs –”

“You’re basing your knowledge of my relationship status on a tournament we played in more than fifteen years ago?”

“You realise you’re literally wearing a wedding ring.”

“And you’re not. Any other observations you’d like to make? Sky is blue, maybe?”

“Normally people wear wedding rings to show they’re married.”

“Maybe some people wear them to avoid annoying questions. Anyway, Philip says that I’m coming across very well so far and that ITV has received hundreds of complaints from people who can’t understand your accent.”

“He did not fucking write that, give it here –”

“Am I getting along better with Jamie? I dunno, I never had a problem with him to be fair, it’s him that’s always –”

“Friends? With Gary? Behave. Have we managed to go a single day so far without him shoutin’ at me for somethin’ I did, or somethin’ I didn’t do right, or for – for breathing in the wrong direction. Christ, I’ve never met anyone this fussy. He’s too easy to wind up.”

“He must be doin’ it on purpose, surely nobody is that thick – I mean, is it so hard to stack a couple of dishes when you’ve finished washing them?”

“Well, no, yeah, he did stack them, but did you see – they were all out of order, there’s no stability – they’re certain to all fall and break in the night thanks to him.”

All the effort that goes into the Dingo Dollars task and all the camp has to show for it is a single square of chocolate each. Gary nibbles carefully at his, trying to preserve it for as long as possible.

Jamie gets up and goes to sit beside him.

“Here.”

“Wha?”

“Here, I don’t like sweets.”

“You don’t – what kind of a psychopath don’t like sweets?”

“Will you just take the bloody chocolate before I change my mind.”

“You’re limping. Why are you limping?”

“Done my ankle in the last trial.”

“Trust you to get injured doin’ a trial. What’d you do, you slip or somethin’?”

“Why don’t you ask your mate, he’s the expert on slipping.”

“Ha ha. But really, Gary – you alright?”

“I’m fine, Carra, ‘s not even strained. Just a bit achy. Twenty years as a professional athlete will do that to you.”

“Give it here.”

“You what?”

“Give it here, I do an okay massage. Maybe that’ll stop yer whining.”

“I literally didn’t say a word until you brought it up.”

“I don’t know, he’s – ugh, he’s…”

“He’s not what I expected. I dunno. He’s just not what I expected.”

“D’you know how many times me and Gary played a full ninety together with England? One. We only ever played one full match on the same side, and it was shite.”

“It always felt like there was only room for one of us, so I just – I fucking hated him. ‘cause it wasn’t me the managers were picking, was it?”

“Carra?” Gary whispers

“What.”

“Carra, I can’t sleep.”

“Don’t give a fuck.”

“Jamie.”

Jamie reluctantly sits up in his camp bed, squints at Gary in the dark. “What.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“You already said that.”

“I want to go for a walk, clear my head.”

“Good for you.” Jamie lies back down and pulls his sleeping bag over his face.

“Jamie.”

“I swear to God, Gaz…”

“Yer not gonna make me go out there alone, are ya? It’s the middle of the night.”

“What are you, twelve? Fine, just give me a minute to find my shoes.”

“It’s very dark, isn’t it?”

“It’s the middle of the night.”

They hadn’t ended up walking very far, just to the log benches in the next clearing over before agreeing the risk of tripping over tree roots was too high and sitting down to just talk instead.

“My internal clock’s all thrown off, we’ve been here nearly two weeks and I still can’t get the hang of it. At home to be fair I’m normally in bed by ten, half ten.”

“I remember, from England. You and Phil were such geeks, weren’t you?”

“Most capped brothers in England, thank you very much.”

“D’you miss him?”

“Nah. Don’t get to see ‘im much anyway, to be fair. He’s off in America, Trace is out here, they’re both just – getting on with it, aren’t they? I prob’ly miss my house more’n anything else.”

“Your house… not your friends? Not football?”

“I like my house! It’s got everythin’ just the way I like it.”

“Alright, alright. Fine, you can miss your house.”

“Wha’d’you miss? Your kids? The missus?”

“I dunno really… kids are both all grown up now, missus went back to being a ms a long time ago.”

“Oh.”

“Is what it is. Anyway, I miss football even if you don’t, honest to God, what kind of a footballer are ya? I wish someone would slip me this week’s standings, feel like I’m going insane tryin’ to imagine all the results.”

“Should’ve said something sooner, twat. I can tell you how the league’s going.”

“You can?”

“Yes. Manchester United are on a – how many games’ve we missed now? – they’re on a three game winning streak and have shot to the top of the league.”

“Oh yeah? What about Liverpool?”

Gary tuts and shakes his head. “Relegation zone, I’m afraid.”

“We were top of the table when I came in ‘ere!”

“Well, you know what they say – anything can happen in football, can’t it?”

“You’re right, what’s that… I’m getting reports from Old Trafford that Salah’s just scored a hat-trick, Stretford end as well –”

“You twat! As if your Liverpool could win away against United, you’re dreaming!”

“Erm, yeah… it’s good to be going home, ‘course it is. Glad I wasn’t the first voted out, hah, I actually think I’ve done alright in ‘ere.”

“Yeah, no, it’s been a brilliant experience to be fair. I never thought I’d make such good friends – yeah, even him. I know, I’m as surprised as you are! Anyway, I’m wishin’ them all the very best of luck in the semi-finals.”

“I mean, I know fourth place isn’t bad, but I do think I deserved to get to the finals. I’ve worked harder than anyone else here, so –”

“Well yeah, ‘course, it’s up to the public, so – if it’s my time then it’s my time.”

“What’ll I be doin’ when I get to the hotel? Dunno. Check my messages first, probably!”

“What, Gary? I saw ‘im yesterday, it’s not like I’m missin’ him already! Might get ‘im to buy me a pint, though, least he could do after I had to put up with him for three weeks.”

#u just KNOW the first thing jamie did when he got out the jungle was a) shower then b) immediately find gary and kiss him stupid #carraville #drabbles

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seongminiz · 6 months ago

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okay… well i will dump some thoughts here but ofc as usual no pressure😓😓 and i hope u feel better soon<333

i was having a LOT of thoughts but i’ll try to keep this message more concise at least.

1. i love matthew’s voice, when he sings it kinda like cracks a little sometimes? like in a cute sexy way i feel like his moans/whines would be just… the sexiest ever omg i wanna hear him so bad

2. and then also just like, jiwoong edging you at the country club but sorry like not edging but like teasing you? idk just like keeping you guessing if he has any interest or taking it a step further and like getting progressively more touchy with you the more he loses control but never gives you want you want fully, will put his hand in the small of your back when he’s showing you something, leaning in towards your shoulder, close enough you can feel his breath on ur neck (he would smell like whatever the most expensive, masculine, yet subtle fragrance would be) and maybe even when you get more bold, you’d get him alone, in his office or smth sitting on his desk while he’s in his chair, leaning towards him so your breasts begin to spill from your active tank top a bit😣 squishing your thighs together while you ask him to leave early on friday to go hang with your friends, “please jiwoong?” and your pout is so irresistible but he knows as soon as he gives you what you want, you’ll become uninterested.. you’re so spoiled after all, he knows you want him only because you can’t/shouldn’t have him. maybe he’d slide his hand along your knee to the hem of your skirt and you’d shiver immediately because you swear this is the most he’s touched you. ever. and he’d experimentally lift the edge of your skirt to push his fingertips a little further, sinking them into your soft flesh only slightly, but he can’t go any further he knows he’ll lose control, he looks up at you, moving that hand on your thigh to your chin, lightly holding your jaw, tilting your flushed cheeks to meet his eyeline “hmm,” he’d hum and tilt his head, your lips parting, so flustered, praying he’ll lean in and kiss you, your eyes are fluttering closed, but he lets go and says “yeah, you’ve been a good girl lately, you can go, that’s fine” and would push his chair back, standing up, you’d be face to face with his abdomen, watching the way his tight white dress shirt pulls against his firm body, gulping audibly. “run along.” he tsks when you don’t move, so you jump off his desk and scamper away.

yeah. i did not keep that shit concise.

- 🧁 anon

omg this is so long .... /pos i'll try to write answer without frying my brain halfway through it 🙏🏻🙏🏻

1. yesssss omg matthew whiny moans :(( n ngl i just think he would be soooo vocal in bed i feel crazy

2. i.... i genuinely have no words to express how this made me feel . U R INSANE . n like atp thats a whole fic damn‼️

[somehow switched to semi-proper grammar/writing halfway through this oops so like ,, ofc not proof read who do u take me for warnings ? pool sex , semi-public sex , dry (wet ? they r in the water idfk) humping , unprotected sex :3 kinda switch/subby leaning!matt , finger sucking]

but yeah he'd be such a tease :( at the end of the day hes just giving back the same energy u always give him , but since u r sooo used to getting whatever/whoever u want with no effort it pisses u off sooo much .. which unfortunately also just makes u want him more ,, n get even worse with ur own teasing :3 wearing shorter skirts n more revealing clothes everyday until jiwoong has to avoid u or he'll get hard on the spot just by seeing u ....

+ to bring back lifeguard!matthew in this mattwoong sandwich summer special country club insanity , the more jiwoong avoids u the more it makes u want to act out , the riskier the places u have sex with matthew become . he doesn't even mind that ur using him, as i said in the other post , getting to fuck u before his boss gives him a massive ego boost .

n im just saying , he rlly cant be blamed when he steals the keys to the pool just so u two can sneak in after closing hours .

'just to swim without all the other people around' he says , helping you out of your clothes between one kiss and the other . you both try to be quiet , not knowing if or when a security guard might come by and catch you, but it's hard when basically everything makes you giggle like two teenagers on their first date - and honestly, matthew would like to think of this as almost a date .... bless his heart , he's convinced at some point you're going to catch feelings for him like he did for you :')

matthew gets in the water as silently as he can, and before you can figure out how to do the same - half sitting on the edge of the pool, half trying to slowly push yourself into it - he grabs your waist and lifts you almost effortlessly before lowering u into the water with him (all that free time spent at the gym rlly paid off , didn't it)

you don't have much time to react before matthew kisses you, caging you with his arms against the pool wall (? is that what its called hwlp i hate the english language) and it turns into a heated makeout session pretty quickly , with only the thin fabric of your swimsuits separating u two ,, he'd get so whiny and sensitive just by grinding against your clothed cunt to the point you have to pull down his swim trunks for him or he'll just cum without even getting to fuck you properly :') he's so needy , doesn't even bother taking off your swim bottoms n just pulls them to the side , moaning so loudly as he sinks into you that you both kind of panic thinking you're going to get caught . when you're sure the coast is clear , matthew starts fucking you and he just gets so whiny and can't keep quiet , he has to bury his face into ur neck n bite all over it n your shoulders just to stop himself for moaning out loud again ,, idk , shut him up with your fingers in his mouth , that might be more efficient (n will get him to cum quicker)

n if jiwoong happens to walk by for some reason and catch you ,, just put on a show for him , he might be a little more lenient with your punishment if u do :3

#🍰 seongminiz !#🥯 jebewon !#💭 . 🧁 anon !#🥪 mattwoong sandwich #will i ever stfu abt switch/subby matthew ? (no)#zb1 hard thoughts #zb1 hard hours #zerobaseone hard hours #zerobaseone hard thoughts #zb1 smut #zerobaseone smut

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whorbidmore · 6 months ago

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OMGGG IM SO SORRY (first anon here) I LITERALLLYYY saved ur post last month n was like "im gonna send u another anon :)" (i forgorted)

ANYWAYS HI HOW R U idk what to say my brain is dead rn i am literally just thinking about leon instead of sleeping 😔

- gonna tag myself for the future with 🐕

AAAA omg hiiii :3!!!

i am actually so fucking late to this and literally every single ask that's been sent cus i have been going through it the last couple months (not in relation to mental health but like def not helping yk?)

but actually ive been sitting on this ask since you sent it fully giggling and kicking my feet cus hehe :3 i got asks :3 and yes ofc you will gladly dub you as my puppy anon <3 🐕

and actually that kinda got me thinking just now how leon is ABSOLUTELY the lover that always has you on their mind. he's going to get himself food at the grocery store? he has to fight himself not to get something he thinks you'd like.

he always loses, but could you blame him! how could he refuse himself from the highest praise of "omg you remembered?!! i love these!!"

sometimes he sneaks on his phone whenever there's a spare moment just to reread text convos. never ask him if he does that, he will lie and say he doesn't, even though he is a terrible liar. does he fully understand the memes you send him? not in the slightest! but the fact you showed him something that put a smile on your adorable little face makes him feel proud. like, you trust him enough to share what made you laugh with him? with the hopes of making him laugh?

deadass would be smiling at his phone, then someone will come up behind him like "aw, your partner text you?" only to see something like

with leon just sitting there like :) i don't get it either :)

the more memes you send him, the more he wants to be with you. you send him one meme? he thinks about coming home early and just hugging you until you both fall asleep together. you send him memes back and forth between his dry ass old man responses of "👍" "😂" "haha" (cus bffr he would), and he's only thinking in censor bars. all pixelation and beeps. goes through all the stages of grief as he realizes he still wants to fuck you after all this.

then he sends you a corny ass dad joke and you go through the exact same thing.

idk what this is but i desire this man carnally and tbf i am on my knees for him like 🐕 whenever. wherever.

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil leon #babyfangs.txt #🐕 anon #fangswers #← perfect anon tag im ngl. fang do be answering

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proshippers-against-censorship · 16 days ago

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-> long winded rant ahead soz xx

im a 17 y/o proshipper (i refer to myself as neutral sometimes) and ik we're all in the same boat here but im someone who hasn't been groomed or assaulted at any time in my life and im very grateful for that but im someone who interacts w antis a lot on my main twt and a lot of the times I'll see posts that call people who r proships freaks and that they're weird or somethings deeply wrong w them,,,

I kinda take it to heart (esp bc I have low self-esteem, and im working on it), and it kinda makes me doubt myself and think that maybe i am weird or like a freak bc like.... idk there's no "reason" (not to say that I think being groomed or assaulted is a good "reason" to be a proshipper i know this is a slippery slope and I'd never want to mean anything like that but ik how this is coming off rn im sorry 😭 but thats not my intention at all im just wordinf this badly) that I have for being a proshipper and that maybe I'm just some like perverted incel loser who gets off on this shit or whatever whatever blah blah blah who gaf but it's just so AVHAHSUHHH it's so frustrating that i let what they say get to me and I hate that I feel like this and there's not really a point to this it's just been bugging me for a while but idk man.. it just sucks to see antis say that type of shit and then turn around and say not to send death threats or shit to people it's like how can u sleep at night knowing that you said something like that to some1 like idk that doesn't sit right w me idk

also I'm sorry if hwta I said early implies that you need like some tragic reason or something to be proship I truly do not believe that and I didn't know how to word it the best way bc I do see a lot of people who went through something like that turn to proshipping as a coping mechanism and for me it's just not like that so i always feel like im a bad person for it..? idk what I was trying to say I'm really just venting here so im really sorry I know this is out of left field tumblr is the only place I feel okay w interacting w proship stuff and I feel pretty safe and comfy here bc on twt its a DUMPSTER FIRE so I hope that what I'm saying comes off in the way I intended 🙇

sorry for da yap 🦒💯

#its a vent yall know the drill #proshippers against censorship #proship please interact #proshippers please interact #proship positivity #proship #proshipper safe #proshipping #proshipper #anti anti #ask #asks #pro stance

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marineflamez · 1 year ago

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Your interpretation of Spamton is really interesting, do you have any specific thoughts about each section of his life??? ( like addison, big shot, puppet)

warning, this is a huge autism rant LOL

addison era: i havent headcanoned much about his addison self tbh... the most ive got is hes transmasc and is very bird-like with feathers.....also cat-like too. i think the addisons in general act like that. another headcanon i have is that the addisons are naturally social creatures! they stick together and get depressed when alone, which is sad to think about considering the CircumstancesTM

big shot era: i think spamton during this era was at his highest career wise, and his lowest mental health wise (aside from his current mental health state). my headcanon is hed have a super inflated ego and lash out at people, but only to hide the deep rooted insecurity from knowing he only became successful from a phone. i imagine hed also feel paranoid and constantly anxious at the thought of losing it all, which ended up happening. the social nature of being an addison prolly also contributed to his decline since the addisons left him. so hed stick by the phone not only for advice, knowledge, etc... but for some type of social contact, albeit incomprehensible.

if you wanna see my headcanon for his character In ActionTM, i made a video on his big shot era here: https://youtu.be/OWeStag3dJk

puppet era: this is the most confusing one for me. i still to this day do not know how he became a puppet, if the addisons are puppets, when he became a puppet, etc... its such a confusing thing to wrap my head around. im a big fan of the acid theory and that it kinda melted him away ! however, i dont think it made him shorter bc he states he was always small in the qna, i believe... another theory that could be plausible is the force behind the phone slowly turned him into a puppet as like a "you get success, but only if i get to control you" type curse. idk! its a confusing timeline. regardless, i love his current form the most, aside from sneo. i think hes ageless, but still has the energy and features of a late 40-early 50 year old dude. i draw him with a receding hairline and damage to his puppet body. still transmasc also!

a huge thing i adore about his character is how unapologetically evil he is. he doesnt hide it, he admits hes evil and/or uses you for evil (in snowgrave). and the thing that fucks me up the most is, he had that thornring planned REGARDLESS OF THE ROUTE which is so scary. like if you beat his ass, hes like "whoa there dude! at least buy my ring! fuck you!" and runs off. that and the fact he kept trying to get that neo body. he is so desperate that he has multiple plans to get that body for god knows what.

also the trans allegories for him!!!!!!! love it!!!! like him really hating his puppet body and wanting to be bigger.... or like when u put the emptydisk in the mannequin with the dress, only for it to not wanna go in. like yeah it could be a interpreted as him wanting to go into sneo and not the mannequin, but given his connection to mettaton, who has some heavy trans allegories, i think it has more meaning than just "this isnt sneo!!!!" .,,, also the fact he gets such intense euphoria from being sneo. godddd i love trans spamton allegories!!!!!

spamton neo: my second favorite (almost first favorite) form of spamton. incomprehensible armor, but still killin it with those heeled boots!!!!! girlboss honestly

post sneo fight, i always found it interesting how his ark ends in a less hopeful, and more existentially dreadful manner. it almost feels unnecessarily cruel, but i think that the sad ending to his story is essential to get that hopeless "your choices dont matter" theme across. it also just shows how his hubris fucked him over in the end no matter what he did. ALSO HE DID NOT DIE!!!! people keep saying he died. he didnt. he literally has dialogue if u fill your inventory where hes like "bro???" so like. i think he just kinda gave up and turned into an item on his own accord, like jevil.

however, my favorite iteration of sneo is snowgrave. it really shows how genuinely fucking evil spamton is. he literally tries to stop you from being evil so HE can be evil, its so fucking awesome KJDJGSNKJSDNG

but like. fuck man, the dialogue is crazy good??? just peaking into his actual thoughts and insecurities and absolute self hate... muah. and getting that info from him self projecting onto kris? MUAH!!!!! i think its such a perfect battle for sneo because of how he tries to evade responsibility and hatred toward himself, or at least tries to make it sting less, by self projecting it onto kris. he hates kris, yeah, but its mostly just hatred toward himself, what hes become, and how far hes fallen from grace. and him trying to claw his way back to being successful- no BEYOND successful- and into world domination, is fucking harrowing. he is a fucking force of nature in the form of a YTP puppet.

i adore everything about the buildup to snowgrave sneo, the environmental storytelling, everything!!! it was only recently that i realized the scribbly lines around the mansion were his glitched advertisements.

also another thing that fucks me up: he killed his ex friend by proxy. absolute insane behavior its so. ohhmygod. i also love the connections to noelle and her being an angel. an angel sent to help him reach heaven... godddddd i love this shit

another thing i find so fascinating: his glitched speak in his sneo form is not as incomprehensible? its so eerie. hes like... he can better communicate his thoughts better and more coherently, which is genuinely so freaky because youre just so used to his nonsensical bullshit so its like. whoa. he was There Mentally all along, he just couldnt say it because of how fucked up and glitchy he was.

yes, i do believe he is like Completely There Mentally throughout the entire game. hes crazy as fuck, but he hasnt lost grasp on reality like jevil has. spamton has multiple plans concocted to get what he wants. hes smart! he knows what hes doing, and thats fucking Horrifying.

im tired of people saying he isnt evil or that hes just misunderstood. like yeah his circumstances are so unbelievably sad, but hes not some precious little creature who deserves to be protected... he is evil!!!!! he is evil and uses people to kill, or straight up tries to kill you himself! whether it be for freedom or his own demented plans of world domination!!!! and he outright says hes evil!!! he knows hes evil and doesnt give a shit, fuck, or damn!!!!

ok autism rant over :3 sorry if you read all that and were confused the entire time, spamton is my babygirl

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tinukis · 10 months ago

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(OKAY. I KINDA GOT CARRIED AWAY (i got REALLY carried away.) AND NOW I WILL PROVIDE VERY FEW INFO ON SABOSAN HISTORY AS EARLY AS 2014.)

sabosan existing on here since at least 2017 is crazy

(it's ask blogs and im lazy to know the lore but all ik is that sabo and sanji have kids while sanji is in extreme denial abt being gay)

i wanna know how far back sabosan goes... like at leasT 2015 or 2016??? (anime timeline) and maybe 2014 (manga timeline) idk im just guessing bc i dont know what year sabo returned so

OK BUT THE SLIM CHANCE THAT SABOSAN BECAME A THING LIKE ALMOST A DECADE AGO DRIVES ME INSANE I NEED TO INVESTIGATE WAIT

on pixiv in the sabosan tag (サボサン) the oldest works on there is from 2015. (i mean when u look up サボサン you get this cactus mascot which is p hilarious)

i theorize that sabosan became recognized because of zou/wci. bc thats when we learn about sanji's history. i notice that it seem to be more recognized by a few fans as early as 2016 (when wci started)

so those big brained individuals were onto something then. they saw two blonde characters that shared similar histories and went. "wait a minute. i can cook something with this"

and you know what sanji's good at? taking any ingredients and making something amazing out of it. thats what early sabosan fans did

there are Very Little content of them/i cant read japanese and i just mostly find the cactus mascot, but they were there. at Least as early as sabo's return. and at that time, fans did not receive sanji's past. they just took these guys like barbie dolls and made them kiss... anyway i need them to meet and i want to see the longtime fans react as theyve waited nearly a decade for that very moment

(kinda doubtful but let me dream!!!)

OKAY ANOTHER UPDATE (YES IM TYPING EVERYTHING IN ONE POST) i learned how to search dates on the bird app once more and. im seeing posts from jpn about sabosan !!!

one of my favorite ones:

the people understanding since 2016... that sanji goes well with ASL brothers :'D

ok found another tweet (and the users are still active !!) and translation seems butchered so im not gonna share but from what i could understand, this other user also likes sanji with ASL... this is amazing. LIKE im aware of the impact acesan had, especially bc of the anime including ace in alabasta (i understand deeply. i mean have you SEEN the way ace acted around sanji⁉️⁉️ lighting his cigarette... smirking at him when sanji turns his back... i know what you are. they Definitely spent an entire night (or more) alone together <3) but for sabo to be included to since this long ago, esp considering the two never met?!?? and the one connection is being royal blood...

again i cannot include everything, esp long posts bc the translation gets butchered but aaahh just ppl talk about the pairing, any potentials about it makes me happy... and gives me hope for the agenda to spread wider lol. what looks like that has been said is that a couple of people really like pairing sanji with multiple characters, esp ASL... and i understand so well. theres just something about sanji being so shippable

there are also fans speaking to other sanji ships fans, and they ask/say "i want to see your sabosan !!" it's great...

ahahhaa AHAHAHA FOUND ANOTHER POST I CAN SHARE:

sabo POP figure from 2016 (aaah i want it so bad...)

and the suit he wears in this figure, it does look like sanji's fit now that the user mentioned it 👀👀

okay i dug a little more and found another sabosan fan! at first i was unsure as they could be talking about another user or a cactus or something. but as it turns out, they are indeed a sabosan fan! they've said things like "i wish sabosan was more popular"/"i wish for sabosan" and this is dated back in 2016! plus one of my favorite posts (translated into deepL as i had a feeling that twt had butchered the translation and...)

they get it. they got it. as i mentioned earlier, the fans definitely knew what was up when wci happened. THEY WERE COOKING BACK IN 2016!!! which... i believe i should now start digging as early as i can. maybe for zou or dressrosa years!! bc certainly, this pairing was actually talked about during 2016-2017. it was wonderful to see!

oh my goodness... i decided to look from start of 2015 to the end, and so far in late 2015, the same user from the above translation, has been talking about them still! they mentioned sabosan fanworks, and how they read a heartbreaking fic⁉️⁉️ i cant tell you how happy i was to read that. sabosan being a thing and having angst works, even if i can't read them. (never mess with one piece fans, especially if they are fujoshi !! they'll find their ways. im honestly fascinated. i love fandom history if you couldnt tell by this post!)

plus, some fans calling themselves delusional for thinking of this pairing... if only i could be there with you, longtime fan.

and i'll be real here, i dont know of the popularities back then but the comparison of sanji and sabo being nobles are great :] (maybe bc i've just seen ppl being mean to sabo recently 😔)

okay im sure this post is getting wayyy too long so i'll try to wrap up my investigations. bc there are many posts to look through but sabosan being talked about as early as 2015 (as i write this) is just... very joyous news to me ;w;

im sure i will be missing lots of good posts (despite the horrible machine translations) but i am shaking hands with 2015-2017 fans in solidarity... at most 9 years later

!!! GREAT NEWS. 2014 posting!!

original tweet and deepL translation... dated mid december 2014. nearly a whole decade ago. i swear sabosan will go viral, way more than when zou/wci was in progress. im sure of it

i really cant put into words how im feeling or what im really thinking. just know im happy to find fans from 2014 !!

OH MY GOD.

⁉️⁉️⁉️ AUGUST 2014 BTW. and im assuming its supposed to be "sabo started with" or something but... the content. sabosan content. 2014. it's out there. SHAKES YOU. THE CRUMBS (also this user is a sabosan fan and i think acesan fan too as i did see mentjons of them... so this just...)

THEYVE BEEN HERE FOR A LONG TIME AAAAAHHHH 😭😭😭😭😭

NOW IM CURIOUS WITH HOW MANY POSTS IVE BEEN MISSING⁉️⁉️ yall the agenda must spread farther

ASL/sanji mentioned! august 2014

omg again from the same user

shaking your hand in spirit (april 2014!!!)

there have been fans of this pairing as early as april 2014!!!! and have been manifesting for their popularity for awhile 😭😭😭 (plus this user is still active! im not sure if theyre still into one piece but... i hope for the longtime/past fans to see it all soon)

i think my investigation into sabosan history ends here after a long post and hours of searching... unless i somehow find something earlier than april 2014, the earliest moment that sabosan was first talked about was in the year 2014. Q2 2014. back when dressrosa was still ongoing. do you know how insane that is? before wci.

i think we can come to a conclusion that sabosan was a concept as early as 2014 was all becaude of acesan. thats the pattern i noticed. ace/acesan was often mentioned. and i believe it's bc not only are ace and sabo brothers, but bc sabo aimed to eat the mera mera no mi. and if sanji were to meet sabo, sanji would be reminded of his late lover, ace. and the angst potential is so real... sanji looking at sabo... just as a replacement for ace? ouch

i know the fans were having a field day when they learned about sanji's blood family :']

side note: there are likely things lost due to users deactivating or whatnot... and i doubt i'd be able to search via wayback machine. and as much as i dont like pinterest for reposting art, there are pieces of the two ive never seen before

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alienaiver · 2 years ago

Text

Tales of Meet Cutes

Kozume Kenma x gn!reader

warnings: this is pretty fluffy! while reader is gender neutral, they are cosplaying male characters and are being described wearing makeup, so beware if thats not ur thing! :’) wordcount: 4.4k content: FLUFF, genderneutral reader, poc!friendly reader, canon compliant, post-timeskip, meet cute, kenma FALLS IN LOVE... HARD!, cosplayer!reader meeting kenma at a convention basically, kuroo’s the worst wingman but he swings it anyway!, kenmas a bit awkward but hes got the spirit, weirdly enough became an advertisement for the tales of games..., unbeta’d bcos i am sobbing about my con, reader cosplays mikleo from tales of zestiria and jack vessalius from pandora hearts! heres mikleo and heres jack (theres no switch release of zestiria this is just me dreaming btw </3)

notes: hihey!!! i was at a convention this weekend and have been ruDELY STRUCK by the post-con depression and its... its GIVING ME feelings. so i wrote this. im aware that conventions in japan are usually simply called ‘events’ and not cons like in the west but it felt sO UNSPECIFIC so ye. i actually do Not know what bouncing ball corp DOES... so im playing around. this is all based off of my own convention experiences but theyre obviously very local to my country so idk how it is in others <33333333 i hope u enjoy AWKWARD KENMA who stutters <3

It’s Friday afternoon and Kenma’s plugging the Nintendo Switch’s HDMI into the television’s port that the convention provided for their booth. Kuroo’s humming by their table as he places the flyers nice and orderly next to the game cases. Kenma turns to his friend, “you didn’t have to do this.” he says, flustered that Kuroo had to take a weekend off for him. Kuroo smiles, “’course I didn’t have to,” he looks knowingly at Kenma who bites his lip and stares pointedly at the floor, “but I wanted to. It’s a free convention, a weekend with my best friend plus, you’re paying me.”

It's true, Kenma has agreed to pay all of Kuroo’s meals this weekend no matter what he wanted – he knows Kuroo will seize the opportunity and ask for food he’s normally too cheap to buy himself, but Kenma’s happy to indulge.

Bouncing Ball Corp has for many years sponsored a big part of Tokyo Expo’s Game Room. It was one of the first places that properly introduced Kenma to streaming so it’s become like a silent thank you to them. The community is nice too and he knows a lot of his fans come here. For just as many years that he’s been a sponsor, they’ve tried to get him to have a booth or maybe even a panel but he’s been dodging them successfully every year. The attention seems like it’d be too much for him to handle for a whole weekend so he’s always declined and showed up stealth as a regular convention guest and enjoyed the Game Room. He was almost found out once because he beat a high score on the big center screen in front of an audience. He’s never ducked out so fast of anything in his life.

But this year’s dodging and parrying proved unsuccessful due to circumstances out of his power. You’d think running your own company would make situations like these impossible but alas. Kenma has been playing the Tales Of game series on his channel since the early beginning and after the third game, Bandai Namco reached out and they made a rather fruitful arrangement that’s served both of them well. Now, they’re releasing an anniversary Nintendo Switch release of Tales of Zestiria and wanted Kenma at the convention, advertising. He was put between a rock and a hard place when the game company reached out to the convention on his behalf – he knows they did it on purpose to render any of his moves ineffective.

So here he is, plugging the television into the massive outlet that runs through the room to accommodate every booth and game (is this even fire safety regulated?) with Kuroo by his side. One of the volunteers, a Gopher, has already stopped by multiple times to offer their assistance in setting up. Kenma thinks they might be a fan because the Game Room’s volunteer-leader has already been by upon their arrival and walked through whatever they might need from the convention and what they’ve brought themselves to the booth with him.

There’s usually not a lot of booths in the Game Room, traditionally focusing more on just having a lot of platforms and screens available with games ready to be played by the guests but it’s not uncommon to see a company or two advertise for something. At the far end, Kenma knows an indie-game developer is going to be. She’s also going to host a panel on how to make your own games and where to start. He’d like to stop by for that out of curiosity. There’s also a booth from a school where you can become a game designer who advertises for their education and tells people of the way you’ll have to go to reach that.

And then Kenma’s. He certainly feels out of place as he sets up the brand-new Switch with only one game inserted provided by Bandai Namco. He originally connects it to the Convention Center’s Wi-Fi but decides his own might be faster for the final download of the software. He hears Kuroo talk to someone behind him as he fiddles with his phone settings. The convention opens in just a few hours and he’d like to get lunch before anyone arrives. He dreads how he’ll have to be available here until at least after the dinner rush. He’ll have to eat a heavy lunch. He has a gnawing suspicion that Kuroo’s got food or snacks in his bag if the size of it is anything to go by. He hopes there’s the red bean Taiyaki that he likes in that bag. He really wants one now.

His stomach is gnawing, reminding him of that Taiyaki he imagined earlier. It’s past 7PM now and there’s been so many people that he really doesn’t want to come back tomorrow. Kuroo’s currently out, there was a tabletop event he wanted to check out and since there wasn’t that many people when he left an hour ago, he had said yes but they’re all coming back from their dinner and filling up the room again. The heat is unbearable; poor ventilation and so many machines turned on making it worse on top of the people crowding it. More than once he’s had to explain how the Switch controls work for curious guests and it’s getting repetitive in a way that he really doesn’t enjoy. Is he really an asset as a sales representative? He thinks not.

Maybe he should just take a peek in Kuroo’s bag. He probably wouldn’t mind, right?

Turns out that he definitely wouldn’t mind given that all there is in said bag is snacks that only Kenma likes and that he knows Kuroo doesn’t even the least bit pretend to enjoy. He stays crouched and rummages through it and lo behold, a red bean Taiyaki shines from the bottom of the bag. Out of the corner of his eye he spots two people nearing the booth, one whose color scheme is glaringly blue. He hears talk, someone jumping in excitement and thinks it might be an old fan of the game excited about the remake. He’s surprised by how few knows the game – it’s not that old, he keeps telling himself.

“It’s you!” a voice exclaims and with the Taiyaki hanging from his mouth, Kenma looks up with confusion and an accidental glare. Before his booth stands two people. One is dressed like an anime character from that fighting show he’s heard about and the other… Well, the other is none other than Mikleo, a character from the game he’s currently advertising. You’re standing with the game in your hands, sparkles flying from your eyes in excitement, your underlip worried between your teeth.

Kenma drops the Taiyaki from his mouth as his brain decides you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

(Luckily for him the snack lands on the bag and not on the floor. He doesn’t notice that at all though.)

“I shouldn’t buy it. I already have it at home for the PS3,” you start arguing resolutely, putting down the Switch case with much reluctance. Your friend laughs at you, “yeah that would be silly. But you were so sad about not finding any merchandise with Mikleo or Sorey on it in Dealer and Artist, so I’m glad we saw this!” you nod to your friend, eyes still glued on the game, “me too. I hope this remake will get it the revival it deserves. Maybe we’ll actually meet people who knows the game now,” you sigh before you start to continue on, “I don’t want to be late for the Tekken tournament though and if I stay here much longer, I’ll end up buying the game.” Your friend follows and you look back at the game one last time with mock sobs and an arm reached out towards it. Your friend laughs and drags you along.

Kenma stays crouched and frozen for a few more moments until Kuroo’s voice breaks through, “that cosplayer’s the character from the game, aren’t they?” his eyes are turned towards you before he looks down at Kenma, “you found the snacks?” he walks around the tables to get inside the booth, “we can go get dinner in an hour or so, is that fine?”

Kenma barely registers any of the questions that Kuroo asks him, still looking after your form. It’s easy to see where you’re going with your cosplay prop, Mikleo’s staff being his guiding star as you’re walking towards the big screen for the Tekken tournament.

Maybe he should join the tournament.

No, he definitely shouldn’t.

Right?

A palm suddenly touches Kenma’s forehead and Kuroo’s form is crouched next to him, looking only mildly concerned, “you okay? You need to get out a bit? Too many people?” the questions are many as Kuroo tries to locate what Kenma’s issue might be. It’s not a fever, so the redness in his face much be account of the crowd, Kuroo thinks. Kenma scrunches up his nose before he gets back to his feet, “I’m fine.”

Kuroo shakes his head before he picks up Kenma’s abandoned Taiyaki and gets back up, “let me know if that changes. I’d be more than happy to duck out for food early.”

Kenma reluctantly grabs the Taiyaki from Kuroo and continues to eat it in silence. Kuroo does what he does best and try to sell the game to whoever stops by even if they’re only stopping briefly. There’s an influx of people for the tournament and Kuroo manages to sell a few copies to old fans. Kenma fiddles with his water bottle as his eyes are glued towards the tournament area, hoping he’ll see you on your way out. He definitely doesn’t want to go for dinner before it ends.

Sadly, he doesn’t see you in the crowd leaving the area, all morphed together into one blob of mass. The Game Room is finally breathable again and they get ready to leave the booth, putting up the “Out for dinner, be right back!” sign and notify the Gophers that they’re leaving so they can keep an eye on the unattended booth for them.

Kuroo wanted something from the food stalls, much to Kenma’s chagrin. Kenma doesn’t particular like going out to eat but a restaurant’s volume levels is miles apart from the food halls of an anime convention’s. The line luckily isn’t long as Kenma stands with his phone, playing Valkyrie Connect on it to pass the time. Kuroo talks to the people around them in line, blending in even though this normally isn’t his crowd.

“Ah, thank you for holding the line! It was such a bother going to the bathroom in this,” you laugh, sounding out of breath as you pat your friend’s shoulder.

Kenma’s afraid to look up because out of his peripheral he spots the blue of the bottom part of Mikleo’s pants. The tail ends of your cap sways as you move around too and he feels his tongue grow a few sizes in his mouth. Kuroo continues talking with your friend who introduces you to him.

The good thing about Kuroo, that Kenma’s always appreciated, is his uncanny way of knowing when to push Kenma’s social buttons and when not to. So Kuroo simply lets the conversation flow with the two people in front of him, not letting their focus shift to Kenma in an effort to relief him.

He chances a look at you without lifting his head and you’re even more beautiful up close. Your wig seems to be of high quality and well taken care of, even after a whole day at the convention. Kenma doesn’t know a whole lot about makeup, but he can see that yours is sharp and accentuating the parts that make you resemble Mikleo the most. You’re wearing purple contacts and Kenma’s brain is fuzzy with the thought of what your real eye color must be like. Is your hair long underneath the wig? Or short? Your face seems perfectly sculptured and he has to look back down at his game so he doesn’t pass out from the way you shine.

“Whatcha want?” Kuroo suddenly asks Kenma and he realizes it’s already their turn. Kenma gulps loudly and shakes his head at Kuroo, hoping his blush isn’t too obvious. Kuroo nods at his non-verbal response before he orders two sets of bibimbap with two chicken bao buns. Kenma fumbles to get his wallet out of his pocket to pay for the food and Kuroo wordlessly takes the wallet from him so he can hand them the correct amount. “Anyways, have a great con!” Kuroo gladly tells you and your friend as they go to leave the queue and wait by the side for their order. Kenma stomps his feet mentally and looks you squarely in the face. Your smile is gentle and warm as he gets eye contact with you, “you’re a… b-beautiful.. Mikleo.” he stumbles over his words and hurries to join Kuroo by the side, feeling very childish with his breathing ragged and heart beating. He hears you making a reply behind him but he doesn’t make out the words as he focuses on Kuroo’s shoes and quieting his own heart.

When he reaches Kuroo, an unfortunate but very teasing smirk is on the bastard’s lips. “So it wasn’t a fever.” He teases, ruffling up Kenma’s hair. “Shut up,” he bites back and punches Kuroo’s stomach. Kuroo leans forward in mock pain and whispers close to Kenma’s ear with a teasing lilt, “they’re still looking at you. I think they’re flustered.”

Kenma just hits him again but dares not to look back to confirm whether or not Kuroo’s right, a pout evident on his face from Kuroo’s teasing.

Saturday morning comes around without too many hiccups and Kenma’s playing Octopath Traveler on his own Switch, precariously tipping the chair to alleviate boredom. Kuroo only teased him mildly yesterday and this morning, so he thinks he might be safe with his private crush. It’s lunch time soon and the big cosplay show is currently underway, which makes the Game Room pleasant, only a few people sitting by different platforms quietly playing games.

Kuroo’s at the cosplay show too, leaving Kenma behind. He’d offered to go together, but Kenma thinks the noises will be too much. He can always watch the show online at another date and he doesn’t technically mind manning the booth when it’s this quiet. A few fans have found out he’s here and passed by for pictures, but it hasn’t been too wild. He misses his cats even if he briefly saw them this morning.

He yawns as he finishes off one of the chapter 2 bosses, checking his battery percent as the victory screen loads. He’s still good to go for at least some time yet before he has to get up and dig the charger out of Kuroo’s bag.

“Excuse me,” your voice rings as you clear your throat and Kenma’s head whips up so fast at the sound of your voice that he loses balance and with a leg raised tall in the air, he falls backwards with a yelp that he’ll deny until the day that he passes.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” he hears the worried wobble in your tone as you shuffle around towards the little entrance to his booth but stops in front of it, unsure if you’re allowed to enter, stomping your feet anxiously. “I didn’t mean to give you such a scare, I’m sorry!”

As Kenma groans and places his Switch carefully next to him on the floor, he realizes that you’re trying to hold back a laugh at the scene in front of you, but your brows are still furrowed in worry.

You’re not Mikleo today.

He’s not sure who you are, really. He doesn’t recognize the design but then again, he hasn’t watched a lot of anime. But even if you’re in a total different outfit, with a different hair and eye color than yesterday, there’s no mistake who you are. You’re the one inflicting psychic damage on Kenma’s heart and he’s not sure how to handle this properly.

Your outfit is no less detailed or well-done than yesterday, with a blonde wig styled with a ponytail and a very exquisite-looking, long green coat lined with gold. You’re wearing a ruffled shirt underneath a black vest, knee-length boots and white pants. You must be hot in all that. He feels heat flush to his cheeks at his own staring and throws his head back to the ground, staring at the ceiling to avoid your gaze, exhaling a deep breath. You crouch down, still by the entrance to his booth and look at him, careful of the length of your ponytail – he can see now that it’s a braid. “Are you sure that you’re okay?” you ask, biting your lip in worry about how he has yet to reply to you. Maybe you shouldn’t have walked up to him at all.

Kenma tries to make his eyes meet yours but he finds that he’s not really able to. He’s frozen staring up at the ceiling, feeling his blood pump faster than he’d like. His palms are lying spread but he can feel the sweat gathering there and there’s quite a bit of saliva gathering in his mouth that he seems to have forgotten how to swallow.

“Uhm. Was it Kazu?” you look up at the ceiling to see if Kenma’s found anything interesting, “ah! Kuroo! He said you’d be here when I saw him during the show break…” there’s a pause as you seem to think about what you want to say and Kenma finds the courage to move slowly to sit up, the thought that you sought him voluntarily out replenishing his HP bar.

You follow him with your eyes, a triumphant yet tense smile on your lips at making him blush so exceedingly. He’s pretty when he blushes, you think.

“I was wondering if you’d like to… Uh, get some lunch together from the food stalls?” Kenma whips his head towards you again, his expression more constipated than positive and you raise your arms in alarm with an apologetic smile, “y-you don’t have to of course! Kuroo just suggested that you might be hungry and well… I am too, but my friend didn’t want to miss the award ceremony so I thought… maybe… you’d like to? We could talk about the Tales of games, if you’d like?”

Kenma nods and looks away to regain control of his voice, “I’d like to, let me just close up here before we leave,” he says and a new excitement rises in him from being able to speak a whole sentence without stuttering to you. He chances a look at you he feels like he shouldn’t have because the smile that adorns your features is absolutely breath-taking and Kenma feels his heart stutter at brightness in front of him. You move to get up and dust off your thighs before reaching out to him, “need a hand?”

The walk to the food stalls isn’t as awkward as Kenma feared it’d be with his newfound inability to compose proper sentences. You let the conversation flow freely and naturally, filling in when his answers are stunted. You’re so calm and patient that Kenma finds himself opening up more naturally as you reach the stalls, taking a walk through the area to figure out what you’d like. Kenma also learns that you’re dressed as a character from Pandora Hearts today, a character named Jack. “Don’t get the curry,” you warn in a whisper-voice and lean in close to continue what Kenma supposes is gossip but his heart is beating so loud in his ears he barely hears why you issued such a warning in the first place. He simply nods and trots along, hands buried deep in his hoodie’s pockets.

You settle on the food stall that sells pizza slices. It’s a small food truck with a pizza oven inside that Kenma’s frankly fascinated by. There’s not a lot of options that he likes on their menu and he feels embarrassed to order something where half of the ingredients needs to be taken off in front of you but he would also like to be able to eat said food in front of you.

When it’s your turn in the line, Kenma motions for you to go first and as he hears your order, his mind immediately relaxes – he’s not the only one with special requests to remove certain ingredients. As it turns out, you end up wanting the same exact pizza as him, so he taps your shoulder and quickly asks if you want to change it from two separate slices and just share a regular sized pizza. Your eyes shine at his question and you nod excitedly before turning towards the cook on the other side who happily takes the new order.

You’re seated in front of each other with the pizza between you, the conversation flowing naturally and freely between games. “Have you ever played Fire Emblem?” Kenma asks through a bite of pizza and you hum through your chewing, “not yet. I only recently got my hands on my own Switch and that’s my first Nintendo console so I think it’ll take me a while to rack up my arsenal,” you laugh and Kenma nods, “you could always watch a stream of it?” he tentatively ask and you shake your head and put down your slice of pizza to take a sip of your drink, “I can’t really concentrate on streams… they’re kind of boring,” you admit with a sheepish laugh and Kenma’s back straightens as he tries not to take it personally. It’s technically not a big deal and he usually isn’t bothered by whether or not people would like him but he has a very deep-seated need for you to like him right now.

“What do you do on the daily? Outside of cons?” you ask after you’ve swallowed your last bite of pizza, “something with sales?”

Kenma raises a confused eyebrow at you and you laugh apologetically, “I just thought maybe for Bandai? Since you’re selling their game at the con.”

That’s when Kenma realizes.

You have no idea who he is.

And hey, Kenma isn’t that conceited that he thinks everyone knows him but with all the games you have the same interests in, he’d figured you at least knew his name or something of the sort. He also had a tiny drop of fear that you might just be seeking him out due to his status. He’s not sure he wouldn’t just let you, given how infatuated he is with you. What a wonderful way to get played, he absentmindedly thinks.

He's glad it seems to be in a whole other alley. You might just be interested in him for him.

“I uh, I own a company.” He tries not to sound like too much of a jerk but the sentence makes it hard to not sound high and mighty, no matter how he’d said it. Your eyes widen and you slap your palms onto the surface of the table, “that’s so cool!” you exclaim and Kenma tries to will down a blush. “What kind of company?”

He must look like a deer in the headlights to you because you shrink in on yourself and apologize for prying. He’s not sure why he didn’t expect such a follow-up question but his brain malfunctioned at the way your eyes shone. You’re wearing contacts again today, bright green and making your eyes seem bigger than they actually are. There are golden lashes lining your eyes and once again your makeup best accentuates what he believes fits the character because it’s different than it was yesterday but still just as sleek and beautiful. He hitches a breath before he can properly reply, “uh, it’s called… Bouncing Ball Corp.” he admits with a hand scratching the back of his neck.

Realization seems to dawn on your face as your eyes narrow, seemingly in deep thought. Then your mouth opens in an ‘o’ shape before you burst out laughing, a hand to your stomach. Kenma’s sitting like a duck, watching you go through all of these motions, confused as to what they might mean. Then, you wipe a stray tear from your lash line and apologize for your outburst, “it’s just. Oh my God, please apologize to your friend. When we met him at the show…” you laugh again, trying to breathe calmly, “I thought he was trying to hit on me because he started talking about knowing some kind of CEO and a streamer. My friend knew who it was but I didn’t and he seemed embarrassed that I didn’t. Oh God,” you’re still laughing, hiding your face behind your hand as Kenma puts two and two together.

That blathering idiot.

How many times does Kenma have to tell Kuroo not to be his wingman? He groans as he hides his face on the surface of the table, letting out strings of apologies on behalf of his friend. “I’m so sorry he’s just… like that,” Kenma bites out as he raises his head back up, licking his front teeth. You wave your hand with a smile, “don’t worry, don’t worry. He seems… fun. And he really seems to care about you.”

Kenma nods and plays with the woody veins on the table, unsure what to say when you grab his hand, “but you can thank him for his meddling, I think. It got the two of us talking, right?”

Kenma’s body seems to freeze at the contact as he feels the warmth of your hand in his. Your eyes look hopeful as you worry your lip between your teeth, a half-smile on your face. Kenma smiles in what he hopes is a reassuring way as he squeezes your hand back with a courage he hadn’t felt in a while, “yeah, I’ll be sure to treat him to a nice dinner later. But I think I’d like to treat you to one first.”

You giggle as you look down at the table in front of you, “that’d be lovely. But I think you need to see me out of cosplay before you decide, don’t you?” you ask with nervousness teetering in your lilt. Kenma shakes his head, “I cannot imagine that you’re not beautiful underneath your costume. Besides, your personality’s what’s important and I like that a lot already.”

The smile you send his way make his heart pump again. Yeah, he definitely needs to thank Kuroo, no matter how stunted his attempt were, it ended up working.

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #kenma kozume x reader #haikyuu fluff #kenma kozume fluff #nohr.writing #I HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE...... AGAIN IT IS UNBETA'D AND MY BRAIN IS STILL AT THE CON. I THINK I LEFT IT IN DEALER HALL LMAO #TRADED IT FOR A HAWKS FIGURE #i hope i got across how absolute STRUCK kenma is w reader. how bamboozled he is by their beauty

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