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sansaorgana · 1 month ago

Text

— HUMBLED (II)

PART ONE

PAIRING �� Sauron x fem!Vala!Reader // Morgoth x fem!Vala!Reader

SUMMARY — Driven by guilt after abandoning him, you went back to the place where Mairon had been slain. You find out that he is still alive but in the weakest form and shape. You take him in to nurse him back to health in the solitude of your Mirkwood fortress where you are hiding from the Valar, disguised as an ordinary human.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — 👀 The Reader in this fic is a Vala (and Varda's sister but she remains undescribed as well), so she changes her appearance like Sauron does but I am not describing any of her forms in any details. The smut part is not with goo!Sauron although I'm sure some of your freaks would probably want that. 😂 I know that the fortress in Mirkwood was built by Sauron much later in canon but I wanted to use it in this fic, although I didn't use its name, so it doesn't have to be the exact same one anyway. Once again I want to thank @dinsbeskar & @olchr-1 💚 Special mention to the queen of Sauron fics @just-trying-to-fangirl-in-peace and her fanfic Remade where the iconic evil!Reader is nursing goo!Sauron back to health as well. 🥺

WARNINGS — Reader is evil (reshaped by Morgoth but not completely evil), mentions of domestic abuse (with Morgoth) & of Sauron and Reader being tortured by Morgoth, goo!Sauron, murder, SMUT, dom!Sauron (with sub undertones)

WORD COUNT — 3,830

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

HUMBLED (II)

Perhaps it was embarrassing for a Vala to feel so enamoured with a Maia but you could not help it – Mairon was all you could think of after your departure.

And after finding out that he had been slain during his coronation after your departure, you could not help a pang of guilt filling what was left of your heart. You had abandoned him and left him all alone at the mercy of all those dark and rotten creatures your husband had created and lured. Of course your sweet Mairon would never handle them on his own, without your support.

You missed him, too – your devoted servant who had worshipped you like nobody else before. When you were being an object of his desires, it was as if you were no longer Varda’s rival because Mairon could make you feel like the most important goddess in the whole world.

Therefore, after many years of being tormented with guilt and yearning, you decided to go back North and inspect the fortress where he had been slain. You could easily trace the very floor where he had laid dead because a black stain remained there. And you tilted your head while examining the cracks between which his blood had to be streaming down.

Your instincts led you underground where you found yourself in a cold and damp cave filled with sinister, ominous presence. There was no doubt that whatever was left of your servant still lived there.

And then, as if it was drawn to you, you spotted an odd, small form creeping towards you on the floor. It was not humanoid but visibly alive although its breath was barely present. The way it moved caused your heart to clench inside your chest out of pity. When it found itself by your feet, it wailed pathetically and whined.

You had a new form now as you were disguising yourself as a young woman of the human kind but his spirit would recognise Mother of Flames everywhere and in every form. Just like yours would always recognise him.

“My poor, sweet Mairon…” You crouched down to touch the malicious substance gently. “I am so sorry for abandoning you,” you whispered as you opened your hands and watched him struggle to slide onto them. “Just a little, my darling, you can do it. And once you’re with me, I will take care of you,” you promised. “I will nurse you back to health, my Mairon,” you encouraged him as he eventually managed to crawl up to lay in your hands. He sighed out of exhaustion and you chuckled softly.

You stood up and brought him closer to your face. He was like a little, gruesome pet and you found it adorable in a way as your godly instincts to take care over weaklings awakened.

“I shall take you away from here, my sweet spirit. Rest now, darling, you are safe now,” you cooed to him.

And inside your hands you took him safely back to the place where you had been living in hiding these days – in the southwest of Mirkwood where Hill of Sorcery was and you spent your days there alone in a fortress long-abandoned, away from everyone, trying not to attract any attention.

Having Mairon with you in his odd shape was merely counting as a companion although you were speaking to him all the time and he would answer with squeals, whines or sighs. You prepared him a cosy spot near the fireplace, which was always lit up due to your control over that destructive element.

As a fallen Vala, you had no power anymore to create life – not in the same, pure way as the others at least. Therefore, you did not want to risk bringing him back to life with your will because it could end up badly. You’d rather the process of his healing take centuries than to bring him back twisted and deformed in any way.

You felt bad for not being able to help him more, so you devoted your days to finding him wild animals to feed on and sometimes you would allow him to feed off of your own godly energy to gain strength as you would caress his foul form and coo to him.

As time passed, slowly but progressively, his shape was growing in size and getting more and more humanoid. He was even more gruesome now because he no longer resembled a pet but became a dark shadow that was creeping around the fortress as he kept following you around obediently.

Oftentimes, he would exhaust his weak form by doing so and you would turn around with a soft sigh and a smile at the sight of him breathing heavily on the floor.

“My sweet, Mairon, you should rest,” you crouched down to help him move back to his usual spot by the fireplace. “I am not going anywhere, do not worry, my dear. I shall never abandon you ever again, you have my word,” you caressed him.

He reached out his limb towards you and you smiled lovingly at the gesture.

“You seem to be quite ready, don’t you think, my dear? Should I fetch you a bigger meal?” You asked him.

You were excited to finally bring him back fully but on the other hand you had grown so used to this shadow following you around for the past few centuries that you were not sure if real, bratty Mairon was someone you wanted to handle again. However, you did not want him to suffer anymore.

The dark shape nodded, eagerly and you leaned in to place some sort of a kiss upon where his forehead would be.

“Be patient, dear. Soon, you will be back with me. And now, regain your strength,” you assured him and watched him fall asleep.

When he did so, you left the fortress and hunted for a human or an Elf who would walk around unguarded. Not that you would not handle someone of this sort – you were a goddess, after all. You simply did not want any witnesses. The woods were dark and mysterious, therefore one disappearance would not alarm anyone but to have a rumour going around that there was some dark spirit living amongst the humans and the Elves of Mirkwood – that you did not want.

Therefore, using your craft of deception and luring, you teased a young lumberjack into your fortress. He was in a trance but once you locked him inside the same chambers where Mairon’s shadow laid, he screamed out loud with terror. However, he was too far away from the nearest village for anyone to hear him.

You smirked to yourself as you paced around impatiently, waiting for Mairon to deal with his prey. The sounds coming out of the room were concerning but you knew that an act of rebirth required lots of dirty work.

Finally, the doors creaked as someone opened them slowly and you turned your head around rapidly.

There he stood in front of you – your Mairon. He chose a new form for himself this time, a little shorter, with curly brown hair and beautiful green eyes. He was in a human shape but you assumed he was not strong enough yet to create a form as pure as Elven. In fact, he looked like a commoner – him wearing his victim’s clothes was not helping the impression.

He was smiling proudly and taking deep breaths in as you watched him with widened eyes.

“You… You look different,” you pointed out, taken aback.

“So do you,” he answered and you cracked a smile at the sound of his new voice. What a privilege it seemed to be now to be able to hear his voice. “My Lady,” he added and bowed his head slightly. “I am yet too weak to take more noble form but in this one we both look the same. I would never dare to take a form higher than yours. I know you need your disguise but so do I. I hope you do not mind this choice.”

“Not at all,” you shook your head and approached him. “I have nursed you when you were a… A shadow. How can you think I would ever be able to cast you away because of your shape or form?” You cupped his cheeks as his stubble scratched your hands.

Short silence occurred, in which you two were staring at each other intensely. You were the one to make the first move as you pulled his face towards yours to plant dozens of tiny kisses all over his face while your hands brushed his curls.

Filled with joy to be in your arms and to be greeted by you this way, he wrapped his new, strong arms around you and made an attempt to give back at least half of those hasty and desperate kisses.

“My Lady, my Queen,” he whispered between them, “my saviour, my Goddess.”

His kisses grew more hungry and passionate as his lips moved down to your neck, kissing it eagerly and sucking on the sensitive skin. His hands, shaky from anticipation, worked on the lacing of your gown. He was too desperate to ask if he could stain you with his touch but you would never reject him.

Whatever was between you two now had differed greatly from whatever you two had back in the day. After all those centuries of taking care of him in his weakest state while you two were hiding away from the outside world, you felt that the connection between you two was as strong as ever. Perhaps even stronger than the one you had once had with Melkor.

“Mairon…” You gasped when his hands finally untied the corset of your gown and he tore it off of you like a wild animal in heat, pushing you down onto the floor.

This time it was you underneath him, at the mercy of his will and his desire. And you should mind that but you did not – in fact, you craved it. It had been ages since he had a body and now his flesh was filled with uncontrollable desires. You wanted to be the only subject of them as you would never allow him to fulfil them with anyone else.

“You are mine,” you reminded him when he grabbed your wrists and crossed them above your head, pinning you down.

He looked deep into your eyes as his pupils widened and nearly overtook the beautiful green colour completely. He growled and leaned in to give you yet another hungry kiss and you wrapped your thighs around his waist, pulling him closer. You could feel his erection already because the clothes he had taken from the commoner were thin and loosely put on.

“You belong to me,” you whined between one hungry kiss and another while he took both of your wrists into one of his hands now to be able to remove his clothes with the other. He was chaotic while doing so, desperate to get rid of anything between your bodies. “Tell me, Mairon. Do you serve me still?” You asked.

There was a new energy about him in this form. He was still only a Maia but you were a very weakened Vala and he was no longer a pathetic spirit you had remembered. He reminded you of your husband in a way that you were now anxious about.

“I am yours,” he breathed out and held onto your hip with his free hand as he buried himself inside of you and groaned out of pleasure. You shivered as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your hips bucked up as your walls throbbed around his length, welcoming him in by greedily sucking him in deeper. “I am your servant and yours only. There is nothing holy to me except for you,” he confessed and let go of your wrists to squeeze your cheeks, which caused your hazy eyes to open and look deep into his.

They were no longer green; not even black. He was too driven by desire to be able to control his form and his eyes were terrifying and animalistic as if he was a serpent and not a human. Yet, the sight only made you throb around him some more.

“In your name I shall heal this realm and you will have your temple like I have promised,” he hissed out. “But if you ever abandon me again, I shall give up on you, too. Like I have given up on all the other gods,” he threatened and perhaps he had earned a reprimand for that but you couldn’t help a moan at his words as your hips bucked once more and he began to thrust into you.

His rhythm was far from steady; it was chaotic and desperate, rough and fast. He groaned and buried his face in the crook of your neck, assaulting your skin with kisses and bites as his big and strong hands held onto your hips to be able to fuck you even deeper.

You tangled your fingers in his brown curls and pulled on them, which only spurred him on and with your other hand you scratched the flexed muscles of his back. Your moans and whines filled the whole fortress and lucky were the habitants of the near villages to live far away enough to not be able to hear you.

Like two desperate animals with your clothes scattered around and torn, fucking on the floor. There was nothing holy about you two at that moment and nothing noble either. Even your forms were human, therefore you had to resemble two primal and primitive creatures instead of the regal and holy spirits that you had originally been.

“I will never abandon you again, sweet Mairon. Have I not promised you already?” You whispered. “Whatever path you want to take, I shall take with you. Reunite all the dark creatures of this realm for you again, command your armies, I shall do it. Stay here forever and get lost in each other’s embrace for the whole eternity instead? I shall do it, too,” you confessed.

Your devotion – the loyalty of the one he had been worshipping ever since his creation – was enough to make him spill himself inside of you with a groan of pleasure and relief after such a long time of yearning. He moved up to look at your face and he caressed your sweaty cheeks while he kept thrusting in and out of you to make you reach your peak, too.

“Once we heal and take over this realm, I will defile you on every altar built for you,” Mairon promised you in a raspy voice, his eyes back to normal now but still foggy from his orgasm. “There will be no more Valar for our subjects, there will be only you. The only goddess. Any form of worship of the other Valar will be considered blasphemy,” he whispered sweetly and you moaned, feeling the muscles of your abdomen tightening as your walls clenched hard around him but he kept on fucking you. In fact, he picked up his pace. “Such a goddess you are and look at you, so humbled underneath me. How humiliating it must be for you, my Queen,” he teased, cruelly and instead of getting angry or ashamed, you finally came all around his cock, shivering and moaning as he watched in awe with a smirk, fucking you throughout your orgasm.

He was slowing down alongside your breath going back to normal and his rough human hands were caressing your cheeks now, brushing out the hair strands away from your sweaty face.

“You forget yourself,” you breathed out eventually.

“You liked it,” Mairon pointed out. “And I shall do everything to please my Queen,” he chuckled with a sparkle dancing in his eye. “I bet you would like to do it again, my Lady.”

“I do,” you grinned but he shook his head as he laughed.

“Work before play,” he leaned in to place a kiss upon your forehead. “And we have a lot of work to do,” he pointed out and moved away as you whined at the sudden emptiness.

“What are you talking about? You have just regained your form back,” you sat up and tilted your head at him.

“I have had centuries to come up with a scheme and I do not wish to waste more time,” Mairon told you, gathering the scattered clothes from the floor to put them back on.

You sighed and rolled your eyes before laying back on the ground.

“What is it, my Lady?” He furrowed his brows at you.

“Nothing, my sweet,” you chuckled. “You’re back at it, are you not? You cannot ever just let it happen or have fun. You must always work and be a perfectionist about it.”

“I might have a new form and a new will but some things never change,” he answered.

“I wonder sometimes why the Valar have not found me yet,” you sat up again to look at him and he froze at the mention of the other gods. “I mean, they are not searching for me hard enough because I am not that well disguised. Yet, they have not come for me yet and I know that in their eyes I deserve a punishment.”

“Do you have any theories about it, my Queen?” Mairon asked, curiously.

“You are my punishment, I reckon,” you told him. “I am humbled to be enamoured with a servant and I have to endure your annoying ways,” you added but with a playful smile that signalled your affection.

Mairon smirked nervously. He had once fantasised about something similar when his heart had still been pure and he had been Aulë’s disciple in Valinor. In what a twisted way his dream turned out to be real. He pitied you at that moment.

He crouched down next to you and caressed your cheek gently before leaning in to place a kiss on the top of your head.

“I wish to perfect myself as much as it is allowed for me to but I will never be your equal, which I am aware of and it will forever be my biggest regret,” he confessed. “If only I could… All I want is to be worthy of you like he was. My master.”

You flinched at the mention of your husband. Melkor was immortal like you were, therefore he was not dead but locked away instead. You were still his wife because of that and you would forever remain in the eyes of many but at that moment, you would not mind to break the tradition and become Mairon’s bride. Even if it would be considered a great humiliation.

“I wonder what he thinks of us,” you mumbled out. “But I care not,” you looked up to meet Mairon’s concerned gaze.

“Even if he comes back by any chance, I shall not allow him to hurt you or take you away from me. No matter what it takes,” he promised with all seriousness and you batted your eyelashes to dry out your fresh tears.

“If he comes back by any chance,” you chuckled sadly, “it will be me having to protect you from his wrath, my sweet Mairon,” you caressed his cheek and leaned in to place a gentle kiss upon his lips.

You would never leave his side and you would always watch over him, take care of him and nurse him back to health whenever he would need it again.

He was your lesson in humility but you were a very eager student.

You were sitting by the fire amongst all those poor villagers who had lost their homes. Mairon had his arm wrapped around you as you clinged to his chest as if you were cold, pretending to shiver slightly. The old man named Diarmid who had taken you both alongside with him squinted his eyes at the two of you and decided to join you by sitting next to you after a while of hesitation.

You moved slightly to make more space for him and he smiled.

“Halbrand and Brynn,” he addressed you by your new and fake human names. “How much have you lost there if I might ask?” He asked but there was no rudeness about it, only genuine concern.

“Everything,” you answered, refusing to look him in the eye as you watched the flames dance. It was the very element you had full control of but now you just allowed it to burn naturally as you smiled at the memory of casting the very first fire that had ever existed in Arda. Mairon leaned in to kiss your temple and he was the one to look at the old man.

“This might be a second chance for us,” he said. “I like to think of it as such. We are free now from the burdens of the past. As if we were new people.”

“And that is how you should be perceiving it,” Diarmid pointed out as he nodded. You smirked a little because he was so naive and so oblivious to your Mairon’s malice.

“My husband’s always been the more positive one,” you mumbled out. “I like to perceive things the way they are,” you added.

“That is certainly a useful quality,” the old man smiled at you. “But sometimes we all need a little hope and a little white lie here and there. Such wisdom comes with age that the true purpose of the fairytales is not to entertain the children but to bring hope to grown men and women for the reality of life can get too gloomy to bear faith for a better tomorrow. Yet, we must keep going. No matter what.”

You looked up at that moment and locked your gaze with his as your heart skipped a beat. The man kept smiling at you softly and you would never tell Mairon about it but he was no ordinary human. He was a spirit sent to you – he was one of the Maiar with a task given to him from the Valar.

They knew about you and Mairon and they wished for you both to redeem yourselves and choose goodness this time. Indeed, it made your heart clench deep inside of your chest as you remembered them all, especially your sister – the one you had betrayed the most.

But it was too late for you and too late for Mairon. Melkor’s corruption and darkness were reaching deeper within your souls than the Valar’s lightness ever would. You two were the most exquisite subjects of the Dark Lord’s torment.

Instead of fixing your malice with his love, like Marion had once dreamed of, you both descended into the paths of sin and destruction disguised as the act of healing. Together, at least.

MASTERLIST

#sauron x reader #annatar x reader #halbrand x reader #lilysfiction

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animeyanderelover · 3 months ago

Note

Hello, I heard that your request box is now open and have an idea for a yandere reaction for a few for the Naruto fandom.

Yk how Sasuke/Itachi Uchiha had fangirls when they were kids/in their teens? How would the yanderes feel when their S/O had groups of fangirls/fanboys, wanting to be their partner, giving them gifts, wanna be train together, etc. With Yandere Asura, Indra, Izuna, Temari and Neji?

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, paranoia, stalking, threats, manipulation, abduction

Tags: @shumidehiro @swagenemyartisan @cachamata

S/o has lots of fans

Otsutsuki Asura

🔳Gosh, he is absolutely dying on the inside every single time your fans just swarm around you like bees around flowers. On the one hand Asura absolutely understands why you are so popular and beloved as he is in some way also a part of your fanclub but it is just so frustrating that he so rarely gets his chance to truly be left alone with you. There is a ton of competition as lots of people would love to be your significant other and he's not going to lie, his throat sometimes tightens when he sees all the gifts, the confessions and the affection you receive from others. He's always been labeled as the weak offspring who fails in comparison to his talented brother Indra and it is this gap in strength that will sometimes mess with him if this should be before he went on his father's quest in order for Hagoromo to figure out who the next head of the village should be. There are lots of other talented, kind and beautiful people in his village and Asura is humble enough to admit so himself. On the other hand it is also a sure way to motivate him to vie with your admirers for your adoration as he starts training harder, picks flowers for you on fields and tries to cook for you though he ends up burning a lot by accident.

🔳His jealousy remains even once he finds himself in a relationship with you though he feels more secure by that point as he trusts his darling. If he's at that point already head of the village most people are probably going to respectfully step back though you probably still receive a lot of gifts and love letters. He takes it very well though, often likes to joke that you're probably more beloved than he is which he honestly wouldn't even mind since you are nothing short of amazing in his eyes. However, he doesn't like if someone ends up confessing to you and asking you to be their lover right in front of him. It's awkward and uncomfortable and only leaves him with the option to clear his throat as he tries to be mature only to very quickly end up arguing with the other person in a way very much reminiscent of a child with the way he pouts and whines. After such an encounter he always grows clingier and more affectionate, deeply upset that someone was bold enough to confess to you whilst fully knowing that you are already with him. Your popularity truly is a two-sided sword yet Asura refuses to revert back to being the same pathetic stalker he was in the past now that you're actually together with him-

Otsutsuki Indra

💜Indra takes a very different approach than his brother as his patience is very thin and his possessive feelings for you very high. Once he has developed feelings for you he grows very quickly rather possessive over you and all of it is only sped up due to the adoration and love you're frequently showered with due to all of your silly admirers. This entire commotion is a waste of time in Indra's eyes as those people behave as if they were a sorry excuse of a circus trying to entertain you and gain your attention. On every single occasion Indra has made short work of them, always interfering their pathetic attempts to woo you and scaring them away with a scorching glare and equally searing threats before turning his wrath to you with a deep scowl on his face. Why would you even entertain such good-for-nothings? If any of them ever even dare to ask you to train with them he quickly shows them just how unfit they are to even consider such an outrageous thought, his opponents always left bloody by the end of it. At one point he starts claiming your entire time for himself, keeping you by his side and isolating you from others to calm his own burning possessive feelings down.

💜After Hagoromo doesn't acknowledge him though that previous arrogance he always had turns into an inferno of paranoia and jealousy he did not possess before. Indra projects his hurt on you as he starts believing that you would abandon and leave him as well and it is that thought that drives him to abduct you. It is likely that he might also murder some of your most persistent admirers who've always gotten on his nerves the most, people who he actually somewhat acknowledged and for that now views as the biggest threats who may steal you from him. It is after the abduction that Indra at the very least finds some semblance of peace again as he knows that there are no fans anymore who could get on his nerves and it eases his possessive urges somewhat. Yet his ego has been forever damaged which leads to you having to be very delicate as Indra needs a long time to get over the shock of being betrayed by his father and his brother. Every time you defy him as well he lashes out, spits angry accusations that you probably miss being swooned over and being spoiled by those weaklings in the village. Too unfortunate for you though because he'll never let you go back.

Uchiha Izuna

🔹For Izuna it will depend on whether your admirers are also Uchiha or not as he is someone who only believes in the good of his own clan which means that he would be much harsher and scarier with your fans if they should not belong to his clan. There will be only disrespect and intimidation as he would never allow his darling to choose anyone but him, especially if your other choice should be someone who is not an Uchiha. After all the young man is deep down quite a prideful warrior though he can be very charming and sweet around you as well. If your fans were to be Uchiha, Izuna is inclined to be more merciful though he still expects them to know their place, especially since he's the younger brother of Madara and one of the strongest fighters. Now, obviously the Uchiha feel quite intense which is why your admirers might be more persistent if they were to be of the same clan as he is, leading to potentially more conflict though Madara is going to fully support his younger brother once he's aware of Izuna's feelings. Sometimes there is a sense of satisfaction though knowing that you're so desired which would make it all the more satisfying once he claims you.

🔹Once you are officially Izuna's darling he is going to be less tolerant of your admirers antics. Any gifts you receive he expects you to reject on the spot or throw away later. None of them are going to be kept and if you try to still keep them he is going to burn them before turning to you with a disappointed glare on his face. He's the only one whose gifts you are allowed to keep. One's ego can never be boosted enough though so it happens that Izuna takes you with him on a stroll through the streets simply to bask in the jealousy of the other people who can only silently murmur and glare at him with envy as his arm is wrapped around your waist. It is this jealousy that results in that smug look on his face, knowing that he managed to court you and make you his though you had so many other admirers. It's not always fun though, especially if someone still believes to have any chances with you even though you now belong to Izuna. In such cases you always know better, quickly stepping away from them to not displease Izuna all whilst said man is already busily glowering at them, irritated that they still don't understand. Perhaps they need a reminder of why he is the only choice for you.

Temari

🌪️Temari is very much a no nonsense person so she is going to be irritated with your little fanclub long before she is even in a relationship with you. Temari isn't a very jealous person as she is a confident lady but it is very agitating to see the shinobi of her village courting you instead of training to get stronger. She wants the best of her village as she is aware that Sukunagakura didn't always have the best reputation amongst other villages and she is very determined to change that. So it isn't even jealousy but disappointment and frustrating anger that the shinobi who swore to protect the village now have nothing better to do than trailing behind you, swooning over you like fools and spending their money on presents instead of training to sharpen their skills. Worst of all is that you suffer from their infatuations as well, always stopped from training properly which is the point where Temari storms in like a hurricane and scolds all of them harshly for behaving in such an unsightly way. Her irritation even reaches you as she reprimands you for being too polite to your fans all the time instead of making your disinterest very clear as you instead gave them always hope.

🌪️It is in an actual relationship that she gets more possessive. It's basic etiquette to respect it if someone is already in a relationship with another and it is then that she truly figures out who the true idiots are, too desperate to give up on you. She expects you to inform you as soon as anyone of them even dares to suggest that you could still choose them and leave her. She doesn't let Kankuro or Gaara help her, firm in her decision to deal with this problem herself as she is the one in a relationship with you and it is her job to protect you. She is more than capable of doing that in this situation. There is no kindness your admirers still going after you can expect from Temari either, her entire face an angry mask and her words brash and abrasive. Are they not ashamed of themselves? There is no respect given to those people, their display of desperation nothing short of pathetic and unfitting for the shinobi of the village. On some days she is in such little mood to deal with your fans that she asks of you to stay at home for the day. She is going to make sure that all of them learn their lession though. They can admire you but they cannot try to be your lover.

Hyuga Neji

🕊️You absolutely deserve to be loved and cherished yet it isn't even the fact that you have fans but more the unsavory way that some of them behave that enrages Neji so much. They're loud, they scream your name and ignore your discomfort as they are pushy. Such people he finds himself actively despising the most and especially when he notices that you're uncomfortable does he get protective and scare them away with a stern glare and a few simple threats. Most of the time Neji is not jealous though as he would never view people with no behavior as rivals as they are nothing more than inconveniences he wishes to remove from your life. He doesn't mind those who show their admiration in more respectable ways by gifting you stuff though he observes such actions very closely as he makes shameless use of his Byakugan in such situations. His confidence remains largely intact though, secure in his knowledge that he is still going to love you better and treat you like you deserve to be treated. He prefers to do so in the Hyuga compound though where people who aren't part of the clan aren't allowed in unless with permission, giving him the chance to focus only on you and vice versa.

🕊️The possessive urge to let your fans know that you are his sometimes gets the better of Neji even though he deems himself about such urges. Yet it can't be helped when he watches as they still try to capture your attention before he steps gracefully in, his hands holding yours as he presses a kiss against your forehead before white eyes glance at your fans with the silent but clear warning that you are his and that they should know their place. With his Byakugan he is able to easily avoid them as he guides you throuh Konoha and away from your fans yet he finds himself worried about the persistence some of them show which is why he starts keeping you more and more to himself in the Hyuga compound where their presence can't vex him as much as it would have outside of the district. It's in here that he truly feel like the two of you are finally in your own world where he can focus fully on you and you can do the same. It's not like Neji believes your fans to ever harm you but he fears that they might find you when he isn't there and make you uncomfortable without him being able to help you. It's this smothering worry that leads you to be isolated even though Neji only wants to do the best for you.

#yandere naruto #yandere naruto shippuden #yandere asura #yandere otsutsuki asura #yandere indra #yandere otsutsuki indra #yandere izuna #yandere uchiha izuna #yandere temari #yandere neji #yandere hyuga neji #yandere x reader #naruto shippuden x reader

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notthecutesttrash · 5 months ago

Text

Grey (Pt. 1)

Content: Miya Atsumu is a bully, and his fangirls are even worse. They make your life at school a hell.

Trigger Warnings: Verbal + physical bullying, language

Word count: 7.29k

PART 2, PART 3

The bell rings and you grab your books to sprint off. Frantically you open your locker, and as you do, a white crumpled-up paper falls at your feet. You open it and find angry scribbled words, all ranging from “Loser!” to “Get lost!” and “You're pathetic.” Exhaling a sigh, you place the books into the overhead space and grab the others.

This all started a week and a half ago.

You had been in class and the exhaustion was creeping up into your mind. It was the last hour, the sun was lowering, it looked to be a moody day, and you could only hear the teacher every other time she spoke. This time she was chewing out Miya Atsumu over a wrong answer which then turned into a long lecture.

All you could think at the time was huh, guess he only had one skill, and that was just wooing pathetic girls over.

The class went silent for a bit, and you exhaled a sigh, turning to the main board, only to see Atsumu and what felt to be every woman in the class glaring at you so strongly it could pierce.

You froze, sputtering a “s-sorry…” as you bowed your head. Ever since then, you could feel a heavy shadow looming at your back.

It was just a fleeting thought, you didn’t mean it negatively. Well, maybe you did. You weren’t sure anymore, but you don’t think you deserved this sort of treatment for such a stupid comment.

Every other girl you passed shot you a look like you were nothing but dirt beneath their feet, even a few men.

Was the whole world on his side?

You cradle your books to your chest as Atsumu begins to walk down the same hallway. Look down. Just look down and nothing will happen. He turns his head to look at you as you pass, and you can feel your breath stuck in your throat. Yet as you manage past him, nothing happens. Relief instantly follows. You were going to be all right, nothing big was going to happen. It was just a stupid little comment. Soon it will all be forgotten.

Suddenly an obstacle blocks your foot as you absentmindedly walk. You stumble and almost fall face-first into the floor. The books in your hands drop, and luckily your free hands are there to brace you. You’re on your knees, nose nearly kissing the floor as you feel a crowd pause to get a good look at you. They were snickering, and when you look up, Atsumu’s down the hall giggling, a terrible grin on his face. There's a woman in front of you, the one who presumably tripped you, laughing. You sheepishly go to grab one of the books and she kicks it to the side.

You can get through this, this was nothing. You were sure of it.

It's even worse when you remember that Miya Atsumu is one of the best volleyball players ever. Of course, you on the other hand, on the girl's volleyball team, are the complete opposite. Although your team was nice, they didn't talk to you much. One of the middle blockers, Angie, was giving you side eyes and little glares whenever you missed a receive. When another spike came, you dove and missed by a few inches.

"Sorry guys.." You exhale a disappointed sigh and the ones on the other side of the net are the only ones smiling at you.

"No worry Y/n! Maybe it's just not your day. That's okay, it happens!" Lucy shouts with a grin, giving you a quick thumbs up. You muster a begrudging nod.

Angie harrumphs with her hands on her waist, scanning you. "And you have the nerve to judge an all-Japan camp candidate when you can't even get one receive as our libero." You frown and cast a glare on the floor.

Lucy huffs on the flipside. "Stop it, Angie, we all know he's good, there's no need to shove it in our faces. The point is, he's not here, and he's definitely not going to be watching you, so move on." She gasps, and the other girls can't help but snicker. You're too exhausted to even pay attention to the conversation.

Your hands are on your knees while you desperately catch your breath.

"Inarizaki has no place for weak players." A quiet but stern woman speaks. Miyu. Her palm is holding the ball you failed to receive.

Lucy holds her hands up and waves them around anxiously, attempting to ease everyone. "Everyone has off days. let's not bully her about it."

Angie visibly rolls her eyes. "She's been having off days for like 2 weeks straight now."

Lucy opens her mouth to probably defend you with another sentence you don't deserve, so you just speak.

"I'm sorry, I will do better."

No one responds as you bow, but you can feel the irritation lingering in the atmosphere.

After practice is finished and all the girls leave, Lucy meets you outside the entrance. She has this sort of pitiful look that sinks your stomach.

"Hey.. listen, (Y/n).." she nervously trails. You had a feeling this was going a certain somewhere.

"The other girls seem to be complaining a bit about your performance lately.. and you know… I don't want to do this but.. the coach thinks.." She's fidgeting, struggling to come up with the right words.

You're pouting, tears pricking your eyes. "You're cutting me off..?" Your words leave in a choked whisper.

"No! No.. well… you might be… but! You aren’t yet. You can still prove him wrong..”

She sighs, and her hand gently holds your arm.

"Listen… I know you're going through some things right now. So just take your time. "She pauses, then looks at you pitifully. "Hey.. maybe if it happens.. it won't be necessarily the worst thing right now. Maybe you might even need it." She is coming from a good place, but you're hurt.

You fail to respond and that helpless look appears again.

“I’m sorry (Y/n)..”

You're striving to keep your expression as blank as could be as you nod. “Thanks for letting me know.” You turn fast, hoping she won't continue anymore. You just wanted to go home now.

Though, when you leave the gymnasium, you hear the boy’s side practicing. They're always extremely intense, and many times their practice runs late. You had an urge, and you decided to follow it.

Mustering up all the courage, you go inside, up to the second floor as quietly as possible while they play. Two squealing girls are already watching, too captured by the scene to care about you. Atsumi’s twin brother Osamu was there. Admittedly, they were an impressive duo. You didn't have to be good at volleyball to see that.

Osamu had a serene sort of confidence, while Atsumu.. well, he looked like the type to do a dump shot just to be petty because he knew he could.

You hated to say his sets were beautiful, perfect even.

Michinari, the team’s libero, receives almost every volleyball that flows his way. Even if the serve was a floater, a jump spike, or a simple one. It was impressive, and you aim to study his movements.

The way he holds his arms, the way he moves, his focus, everything you didn't do. The whistle blows and they get back into position, and you meet eyes with none other than the blonde twin who is currently serving. He raises his brow, his cocky face almost disgustingly amused. You glimpse far away to avoid him. It’s not like you came for him anyway, god, you hope he didn’t think that.

The whistle blows and he walks up 6 steps, jumps, and hits a powerful serve that Michinari almost wasn't able to bump.

“Nice receive!”

Michinari calls out, “Bit short, sorry!”

Atsumi touches the ball, and you're confused. He can’t set it now. Why would he do that?

Osamu is the one who jumps and sets the ball to Atsumi who runs to a side with no blockers and does an insane quick you've never seen before. The impact alone has the sound bouncing off the walls.

“Ahhhh! God, they’re so cool!!!” The girls go crazy beside you.

You hum to yourself.

You've seen enough. Besides you didn't want to be anywhere near one of the twins, so you left as quietly as you came. The gym was empty now, the girls were gone and you could practice without judgment.

You bounce the volleyball on the wall and attempt to receive it. Still, even with it being much slower than the average serve or spike, you were slightly off. Huffing, you bounce it against the wall and it comes to you, you were sure you got it this time. Your arms attempt to tap it, but it awkwardly hits your neck and topples over.

Maybe it was your position, either you were too close or too far. First, you try stepping a bit back and you serve into the wall. It comes at you fast, and you feel as if you could see it in slow motion. It was perfect, you were going to hit- it flies over your head and you're dumbfounded.

Okay, closer. Farther wasn't right.

This time you run to where the ball is headed, and right when it's about to come to you, you position your arms perfectly just for it to hit your knee. The next time it hits you in your groin and you grumble beneath your breath.

One more time.

You serve to the wall and it powerfully bounces off. You were ready. You could do this. Just position. The anticipation rises, and you sidestep the way it moves. A large grin stretches, you got it!

Your finger just barely graces the ball, but it sends it flying a few inches high and it hits your shoulder.

Michinari. Remember.

Remember the way he stands, the way he moves, the way he reads its direction.

Your arms attempt to replicate his, and your knees bend just a little.

One of the volleyballs hits the side of your head, but you did touch it, so that was progress.

It makes you smile.

Sure, you got knocked into the chest almost every other time, but all that mattered was after the 30th try, your arm made contact again.

The ball lifts only a few inches above your arms before it slaps you on the head and splats to the ground. It travels close to the other dozen that lay around the gym. You're groaning as another flies past you.

Another serve, you could do it, just one more. You push it and it slams against the wall, rebounding your way. Perfect! Getting into position, your concentration narrows as it comes to you. A forceful impact meets your knee.

You lift the ball and slam it with your palm. It was so fast you could barely keep up with it, and you were a second off from receiving it before it wacks your neck. Coughing out at the impact, you huff and try again. Just keep your arms down, don’t waver every time you see the ball coming towards you.

It was slow, but it flew your way, and you remained patient. Just get the timing down, not too early, not too late. Now!

You bump the ball perfectly into the air and gasp at the contact. You could do it! You could finally do it! Your eyes remain on it, waiting for it to come back down, a massive grin on your face.

"You're doing it wrong." A voice interrupts your concentration and the ball slams into your face.

"Ow.." you rub your nose, whining. The ball thuds against the floor.

When you eventually look up to the cause of your lost focus, you instinctively step back. Atsumu is there, sweat dripping down his skin after a long practice, eyes judging you.

You don't speak, and you can't even meet his gaze for more than a second.

He steps to the bin and grabs a volleyball. He does a quick normal serve against the wall, and it bounces to him in a split second. He positions his arms and receives it perfectly. You glue onto the way it cascades so beautifully.

He studies your look, amused at the ignorance.

"Bend your knees like this." He does the motion and you falter before hesitantly mirroring.

"No. lower." You do it and glance at him for approval. "Arms like this. This side showing more than the back."

He gets into a normal stance to throw the ball above your arms. You keep your arms together as you receive it, and although it wasn't very high, you couldn't help the happiness that befell on you. That was so much easier than all the other times.

Atsumu humorlessly chuckles "To think you're on the volleyball team and you don't know this." Your view averts, arms cradling the ball you just bumped like a trophy.

No matter the insult, you sucked up your pride.

You mumble a "thanks.." and he scoffs.

“Yeah, I’m going.” He starts walking to the door and you nod.

“Okay.."

Today was a rough day, but tomorrow will be better, you repeat this continuously as a sort of mantra when you get home.

Your parents greet you happily and there is a warm meal on the table. You slip your shoes off before stepping into the kitchen. "We got one of your favorites!" Your mother chirps.

You can barely fake a smile. Most days this would make you happy enough to forget everything that occurred in the school day, but not this time. The happy grins fall and they become worried.

Great, look what you did.

"Is something wrong (Y/n)?"

You swiftly shake your head at the tone. A smile spreads your lips wide, maybe a bit too forcefully. You sold that fake happiness by rushing to sit at the table.

"No, nothing serious. I was just a bit annoyed from practice today. I couldn't receive at all." Your dad raises a confused brow as he attempts to remember what receiving is.

"It's when you catch the ball, you know, like this-" you angle your arms down and put your hands together. He makes an o with his mouth and nods.

"Everyone has their days." Your mother is as optimistic as Lucy.

You share thanks and dig in.

"Even candidates for that All Japan youth camp have their days you know, and they're the same age as you, so there's still a lot of growth there." You're silent, and you set your chopsticks down. There's a big inevitable frown plastered on your face. You knew it meant to cheer you but to think of Atsumu and how talented he was after you insulted him and him helping you learn basics you should already know.

"Yeah, you're right."

Your mood drops significantly. They give each other a side-eye.

When you're done you clean your dishes and head to your room. Wrapping the blankets around you in a sort of burrito you sigh as a few tears slip down your cheeks. You wish you hadn't said that.

Back to another miserable panic-inducing day.

Before class, you open your locker to now see two notes falling to your feet. You stop and stare while some girls giggle maniacally behind you. Sighing, you pick them up, crumbling the paper beneath your fingertips. Grabbing your books, you head to class and ignore how it feels like all eyes are on you when you pace.

"Look, it's the libero who can't even receive a ball." Someone starts the moment you walk in. Frowning, you hold your bag tighter as Atsumu's eyes glue to you, a smirk dawning on his expression.

"She-"

His words are interrupted by a shy woman who is holding a cute pink-wrapped box in her hands. A blush dusts her cheeks, and she crosses her legs. "I-I.. made this for you Atsumu… I-" An eek leaves her as Atsumu scowls hard, an expression that could terrify just about anyone. Class starts and she nervously bolts to her seat.

You never liked long lectures or busy classwork, yet now you've learned to appreciate it. This was the only peace you'd get until you had to traverse the hallways or go to practice. You should just feign sickness, it's not like they'd miss your presence anyway.

For lunch, you typically sit outside on one of the benches in the shade. You liked being here lately. It was nice, and when the wind rustled the trees nearby, the sound would calm you.

You lean against the bench and sigh, placing your bento atop your lap. You undo the cute little cat wrap your mom gave you. It did cheer you up a bit. You open up the box to see your favorite. You smile sweetly.

"Look who it is, little miss (Y/n)" A sudden catty voice alerts you.

Panic rises, and you shift your view to the sound. A group of girls known as the cheering squad for the boy’s volleyball team are walking toward you.

They have angry expressions, and their hips jut to the side as they near.

"So, what do you have to say for yourself?" The "main" woman in front, named Kiyoko speaks to you like some dog. You tilt your head, anxious and confused. What was the right answer here?

You shouldn't be scared, you wanted so desperately not to be, but instead, you're cowering under their scowls, holding your lunch tighter to you.

"For what..?" You genuinely ask.

They growl like mutts, and suddenly the open box in your hands is viciously yanked from you. Before you can register what was happening food began dripping down your hair, a weight on your scalp tumbling.

"Did that jog your memory?"

You're quiet, and your teeth grit against one another, hands bawled into fists. Don't say it. Don't say it.

"I'm sorry." You whisper.

A thick sauce drips down your hair.

Kiyoko leans down, cupping her ear. "What was that? I couldn't hear you." You suck in a sharp breath.

"Aw look she's going to cry." A voice in the group erupts.

"Whose pathetic now?"

They giggle together, and your knuckles turn white.

You speak louder. "I'm sorry."

"That's what I thought." She pats your cheek condescendingly. "Have fun cleaning that up."

They leave as quickly as they came, and you dissociate as they laugh horridly while walking. Food begins to fall onto your jacket. If you didn't clean it up now, you would just be more of a laughing stock later.

A gust of wind flows, and the tree sways. Yet not even that makes you feel at peace right now.

Water runs down your neck as you're in the bathroom, attempting to scrub the smell of curry out of your hair. The stickiness is hard to get out, and your scalp looks like some mangled mess. You pool warm water into your hands and splash it over the grains of rice that are glued together. It takes pretty much the entire lunch period until you get it all out.

Luckily you have your volleyball jacket in your locker that you can swap out for the other. Fortunately, because it's a little oversized, it falls at your sides, just enough to cover the splotches of stains on your skirt.

The teacher furrows her brow at you when you walk into the deafened room. "(Y/n).. you're la-.. why are you wet?" Your hair is drenched and tangled as you walk to your seat. The girls who know what happened are snorting to themselves.

"I fell into the lake." It was a stupid excuse but it was enough for the teacher to awkwardly continue with the lesson. That was until a loud laugh cuts the tense atmosphere.

The teacher sighs, “Yes, Atsumu, do you have a question?" You turn to the sight. At the opposite end of the class, there he is, poorly stifling a laugh.

Atsumu is chortling as he talks. "I guess not even that can wash away your horrid smell." The girls in the class laugh a little too hard at that.

"Enough. I didn't want to start it now, but since you two have a problem, you will be assigned together for the new project coming up. You will work together and makeup, whether you like it or not. I will not tolerate unkindness in my classroom. I don't want to hear any ifs or buts." The teacher calms before continuing. "Now, make sure you all listen up, I will now say the rest of the assigned partners."

You meet Atsumu's instant cold glare and your eyes widen in fear. A jolt of anxiety rushes to your stomach. You feel sick.

"Now, we will use the rest of this time today and tomorrow to come up with a plan. You should be about halfway done at that point. This is due next Tuesday. Do whatever you need to do outside of the time, go to the library, discuss outside of school, meet up, exchange emails, whatever, but you will only have these 2 days in class to work on this." Great, a worse sentence couldn't have been said when your partner was Atsumu of all people.

The teacher gives you and Atsumu a firm look. "Do I make myself clear?" He's annoyed, you're terrified, yet you both nod either way.

"Good, now disperse." She flicks her hand and everyone begins moving.

Most of the girls in the class, or all, including Kiyoko and her group, send you angry glances. It's not like you wanted to be paired with him either.

You're anchored in your seat, too scared to move. Would he come to you? Would you have to come to him?

Will you just not at all talk for these 2 days and do the work independently? Will you-

"Let’s get this over with." Atsumu has his hands in his pockets, his eyes refusing to look at yours. You nervously clear your throat.

"R-Right.."

It's a bit begrudging, but he sits near you and starts to work in his notebook. You do the same, occasionally not aiding the way you're examining his hand move so efficiently. He even had pleasant handwriting.

He doesn't glimpse your way, but you can tell he's getting peeved. “Are you going to keep looking, or are you going to work?" You swiftly avert, awkwardly beginning to mimic the speed at which he writes. Your hands are shaking but you become so adamant you can't even focus on the way there are stares and whispers behind you.

"Does she even shower, why does she smell like that?"

"She's such a loser."

"Did you hear she can barely even receive the ball?"

"As the libero too, it's literally her job. Talk about lame. The audience would probably cheer if she got switched out."

"Seriously, I don’t even know why she's the main one, the other one is so much better."

Atsumu side-eyes you for a second, then goes back to his writing.

The bell rings, and your focus ultimately gets cut off when he begins packing. You mutter an oh and do the same.

You're getting dreary thinking about going to practice now. Your stomach grumbles and you hold it. Maybe you could go to the vending machine, the one with milk and protein drinks so you can get some energy.

Yeah, with what money?

Rushing into the hallway, you ignore how Atsumu is still standing outside until he calls you.

“Hey (Y/n).” Atsumu sing songs eerily, and you halt, fear swarming inside you.

He wouldn’t do anything to you like the girls would right? You could deal with a few prissy ladies shoving you to the side, tripping you, and grabbing your lunch, but him?

You timidly rotate his way and he's holding that usual pompous sneer.

His tone is sadistic and light. “I heard you might get kicked off the team, what a shame.”

Small tears brew in your eyes at the mention, fingers bawling into a tight white-knuckled fist.

“Oh? Did I strike a nerve? But really, I think it’s a relief, don’t you?” He continues, “I couldn’t imagine getting kicked off my own team."

Atsumu snickers and his orbs quickly darken. "But that would never happen, because I’m more than just a guy who can swoon a few pathetic girls over you know. You though.." He fakes a pondering gesture. "I wonder. Are there any skills you possess?"

There's a lump in your throat that you can't bear to swallow and he chuckles. "Right. That's what I thought." He turns to leave.

“Well, at least the female side won’t have to be ashamed anymore.”

Tears meet your cheek. An inevitable sniffle escapes when the tightness in your throat closes. You wish you could scream out how much of a jerk he was, but all you did was whirl around and run away.

A hand touches Atsumu's shoulder, pulling his focus away. “Don’t you think that was a little mean?” Osamu is gazing at him seriously.

Atsumu scoffs. “Anyone who can’t take the truth doesn’t deserve to be playing a competitive sport, especially if they suck.”

Osamu wacks his brother’s head, and the blonde-haired twin growls, raising his fist to do the same.

The next day you smell like soy sauce.

Though, at least It was a lot easier to clean.

You rung your hair of water. Your hands press against the sides of the sink, and you gaze at yourself in the reflection. From staying up late crying, not eating breakfast in the morning because you had to rush out, to not being able to eat lunch, you're a mess. The bell rings and your expression darkens.

Maybe if you pretend you didn't hear it... Maybe if you went to sleep in the stall you could just rest for a bit.

The bell repeats its terrible tune.

You pat your face dry and force yourself to return. On this occasion, you're on time so no one would notice you. Or so you would've thought.

"Did you enjoy your lunch (Y/n)?" A girl speaks, a snarky trail at the end of her words. There is laughter amongst another little side posse. You turn to her, quiet, and staring.

She zips her lips and you go to your seat.

"What's her deal?"

"It was just a joke."

“You know the whole ordeal. Everyone, get with your partners. This is the last day in class to talk with each other."

With that, everyone gets together and unfortunately, yours does too.

Atsumu is sighing as if completely forgetting the day before. “Let’s get this done, the last thing I want to do is meet up.”

You nod and open your notebook. It's silent for a couple of minutes until one of you ruins it.

“Why is your hair wet again?"

Atsumu raises a snide brow. "Go for another swim?"

"Yes."

He didn't expect that straightforward answer but still chuckles.

It doesn’t get to you, and you keep writing. He appears amused that he wasn't managing to aggravate you. You’re not surprised. This is Inarizaki, the school that tries to make other teams cheaply mess up by booing or playing loud music when they serve.

A moment passes and you tiredly declare, “I’m sure neither of us wants to talk to each other, so let’s just focus, then we won’t have to meet up later.”

He looks amused. “You’re a lot of how I expected you to be.” You turn to him, and he shrugs.

“A teacher’s pet.”

You frown, mumbling mainly to yourself, “I don’t see anything wrong with that.” Atsumu chuckles.

“Of course, you don’t”

You fixate on him, and his expression remains.

You just had to get this done, then he wouldn’t be at your side bothering you any longer.

The time is ticking, and the last thing you want is to have to text him. You’d rather take a 0 then do that.

Well, maybe not to that extreme, but you sure as hell didn’t want to be in contact with him, or worse, have him come to your house.

He would have that annoying smug gleam as he sits at the table and makes conversation with your parents. Your mom would be so charmed, and she’d be nice enough to make him dinner. Then he’d eat it and make dramatic gestures about how good it is, meanwhile, deep inside all he wants to do is probably throw it at you.

A shudder cascades just thinking of it.

The more time passes, the less confidence you have in finishing this project today. There was maybe a quarter left, and that would’ve been fine if again… it wasn’t a team job.

Maybe if he was doing his side, you wouldn’t be in this predicament.

You're writing faster, while the pompous ass turns in his seat and starts cracking jokes with the pair behind him. If you could just finish these parts.

You just need to do a few more. Your breath catches in your throat the more you glance at the clock. With a few minutes left, there was surely no way you could finish. Albeit, if you give up now then it'd only prove that. You just have to keep writing and hope.

Anxiety is pacing your heart, and you're getting sloppier and sloppier the more you go. The laughs of the row behind you, the tick of the clock, the sound of your pulse expanding and expanding drags you to the edge.

The bell rings, signaling the end. You slump in your chair, defeated. Atsumu grins and grabs his bag, considering he didn’t even take anything out, all he had to do was just get up and leave while you pack.

What a jerk.

Somehow, he still manages to take his sweet time, and he practically traps you in, making it irritatingly impossible to leave. You throw your bag around your shoulder and stuff your fingers in your pockets.

Your head hangs low as Osamu is at the door again, waiting for his obnoxious twin. You didn’t know who was a little older, but god you hoped it was the grey-haired one.

"Hey." Atsumu starts, and your heart speeds up. This was going to be just like yesterday, wasn't it?

You nervously fixate on him. He's tall, much more than you remember, maybe around 180 cm.

"Give me your phone number."

You're taken aback, tilting your head confusedly.

"F-For.. what?" You blank and he impatiently glowers.

His voice is deep when annoyed. "What else for? The project."

You quickly nod. "R-Right.. sorry. It's um.." You nervously push your hands into your bag, struggling to find your phone. Most are already out of the classroom at this point and he's becoming more visibly impatient.

You feel it and immediately pull it out. Opening your contacts list, he yanks it out of your hand and starts typing. Once finished, he throws it at your desk and you fail to catch it as it slams against the wood. He casually turns to leave.

He suddenly rotates his head over his shoulder and gives you a sharp look. "You should quit volleyball," he says.

"Everyone has a job on the court and you can't fill yours, because you suck."

You're frowning again.

Osamu gives you a momentary glance before leaving. You're frozen in place, his words echoing in your head.

On Thursday, you feign sickness to stay home.

You wrap yourself in a burrito of blankets while you watch TV. At least at home, you can eat freely. You also won't hear mean gossip behind you. You're never absent anyway, so one day was easy. Just one day to yourself. One day without seeing either of the twins’ faces. No fangirls, no volleyball team, no stress, just one peaceful weekday beneath the sheets.

You sleep until 10.

Although a bath sounds wonderful, it's refreshing to just walk downstairs with pajamas and messy untouched hair. “Good morning.”

You yawn, grab a cup, pour yourself orange juice, then sit down at the table. It was a nice day to eat breakfast together without any rush to be somewhere on time.

Rubbing your eyes, you set a plate down and stare at the empty chairs beside you. That's right. You're alone, your parents are off to work.

Once done whisking together a lovely omelet, you eat peacefully savoring every bit of silence. This was nice.

You can do anything today. Maybe even go to the market and get yourself a little desert. Milk bread, curry donut, strawberry shortcake, whatever. Your mouth waters at the thought.

Though rest sounds nicer still.

That project wasn’t due till Tuesday, and it should take you about 2 days to complete alone, maybe 1 if you were going to meet up with Atsumu, but that wasn’t going to happen.

Faceplanting into bed, you moan at the feeling of the bedsheets. They surround you like a heavenly cloud. Yes, this is what you needed, an escape into bliss.

You wake up again at 12.

Stretching wide, you exhale a yawn. A bath would do good now. Your hair probably wasn’t completely free of food anyway.

You take off your shirt in front of the mirror, revealing a few bruises on your back, knees, and thighs. These most likely occurred when you fell to the floor a few times after being tripped. They're tender, but nothing too big. You didn’t want to think of it now anyway.

The warm water envelops you and you draw out a whispered moan. You stay like that for who knows how long until you're aggressively scrubbing all the smells out of your hair. You lean against the rim, lids closing blissfully.

The next time you open your eyes you feel groggy. You don't know what time it is. Your fingers and toes are all soggy, and the water isn’t hot anymore.

You drag yourself to bed after drying off, closing the door to seal the darkness in. A buzz vibrates your phone, and you pick it up, tiredly blinking at the brightness. It was probably your mom trying to see if you were okay.

“When do you want to finish the project?”

Why would your mom text that?

You scroll to see the name Miya Atsumu, and you stare for what feels like a minute before finally gasping.

You didn't actually expect him to go for it and text.

What do you say? You begin typing, then stop, then start, then stop.

Tomorrow? The weekend? Monday? No day in reality makes a difference. You just don't want to work with him.

A part of you is relieved you wouldn't be doing the rest of the project alone, but another side is terrified at the idea.

You bite your lip and write “Tomorrow..?"

Maybe that was too direct, maybe you should’ve sent a "haha", or a "anytime that works for you."

What if he’s not available Friday? What if you just assumed? No no, it should be fine, he asked you, besides, it isn’t going to be a hangout, just a quick 1-2 hour session of working.

You groan, your brain going into circles. The anxiety that fled you today begins revisiting in vicious waves. You’re going to go to school tomorrow and he’d ask you the same question if you don't text back. You can’t avoid him, nor the deadline. The girls will pick on you again, you won’t be able to have lunch, you’ll be hungry, you’re about to be kicked off the volleyball team, everyone hates you, every- a notification makes you blink to reality.

Miya Atsumu: “Sure. Time?”

You let out a shaky exhale and type, “Whatever is fine with you.”

Miya Atsumu: “6 pm, after practice.”

6 pm?? That was a bit late.

You’re about to type a denial until you remember that you're the one who said whatever is okay. You can’t just complain now.

“Sounds good.”

He doesn’t respond. A few minutes pass and you’re still staring at the screen. Fretfully you type, “.. where.?”

A bubble pops up, then disappears. You’re anxiously biting your lip, waiting. The bubble comes up again, jumping for a few seconds then going away. You hold your phone to your chest and groan, your other hand draping across your forehead. You hope it’s somewhere decent, really the scariest thing he can say is "My place."

A few tantalizing minutes pass and you hear a ding.

Miya Atsumu: "Wherever you want.”

That response didn't settle your nerves at all. Why did you have to pick?

Hovering over the letters on your phone, you think hard.

Your place won't be as nerve-wracking as his, and besides it’d be weird if you text that anyway, like “Hey let’s go to your house.” Not only would you just be dealing with him but a duplicate as well. (Though you heard Osamu was a bit nicer.) Still, they probably live in some fancy house with a beautiful mom who makes amazing food. If he comes to yours he'd probably be judgemental as it was nothing lavish.

Where else could you pick? The library? It's a lot more peaceful and less scary than your house. Here, you imagine him, arms crossed, judging your stuffed animals and colorful sheets, saying, "What are you, a kid still?"

A shiver runs down your spine.

But in the library, Kiyoko and other girls are bound to be working on their projects as well.

Nowhere was safe but your home, and besides you had your mother and father there if anything went wrong. Mustering up all the courage you write.

“You can come to my house..?” No that sounded too provocative.

Holding the delete button, the sentence is wiped.

“What about my house?”

Too direct, what if it comes up rude or even flirty?

“We can go to the library?” No that sounds like you're avoiding the situation now.

You hover over “Maybe-“ then delete. Too indecisive. “How about-“ too decisive. “What about-“ too shy.

It’s already been more than a few minutes and the phone buzzes impatiently.

Miya Atsumu: “Well?”

The fear in your stomach is worse than when the girls would bully you. Which is ridiculous considering you're only sending a text.

What if he shows it to all his friends and makes you a laughingstock?

You ease your stammering. Relax (Y/n). No one can harm you here. You're not gonna hear his laughs directed at your face. You’re home in your safe space. It’s just you, and it’s just a text.

"My house?" You press send and hold your breath. A minute passes and now the doubt explodes in you again.

God, why did you type that? That sounds way worse than the other ones, it's almost creepy even. You stuff your face into your pillow and groan loudly.

A soft vibration takes you out of the self-loathing cycle, and it reads, Miya Atsumu: "Sure."

Your heart pounds and anxiety floats into your stomach as you think of tomorrow.

You wish you used your sick day for then.

Although in the end, it wouldn't have made too much of a difference. It's bound to happen. At least you had until tomorrow to plan, to think what you were going to wear, and what spares you would bring for whatever was going to be dunked on your head.

You hear the front door open and close. Your mom always gets home first. You're timidly stumbling down the stairs when she sees you.

"Hey, sweetie. Are you feeling better?" She hangs her jacket up and takes off her shoes.

"Oh- Yeah.. um.. so.." your lips purse as she strides into the kitchen, already planning on dinner even if exhausted. You appreciate that. You just wish you had the guts to tell her what happened to those cooked meals at lunch.

She grabs a pack of spaghetti and fills a large pot of water to boil. She raises an expectant brow.

"Yes?"

You fidget, averting your gaze. "Um.. so I have a project due Tuesday… it's with a partner.. but our teacher is not allowing any more time in class. So-"

"Oh okay, yeah, that's fine. When do you want her to come?" She grabs a few spices and herbs while talking, and you nervously clear your throat.

"It's.. a guy.." She halts for a moment and you can see her mull over your words.

You continue hesitantly, “So... he's coming tomorrow around 6, you know.. after practice usually ends." It's silent for a few seconds and you're pursing your lips, scared.

There's a bright beam stretching her lips wide.

Oh no, it was either this reaction or disgust. You didn't even know which you wanted.

You start again, mainly to cut off whatever she was going to say.

"By the way.. you don't have to pack lunch for these next few days." She raises a thoughtful look.

"Why? Have you been dropping it lately? Do you not like it? Is that you've been smelling like it when you come home?"

Tensely giggling, you curl your hair behind your ear. "No Mom.. I just.." You trail off, unable to think of a perfect excuse. Nothing to resemble reality. Eventually, her lips curl again.

"Ah.. so it's all to do with that boy."

What?

You're surprised, rushing to stammer out a no, but she's set in her thoughts.

"I've been wondering why it's emptier than usual, you've been sharing it with him, hm?" She has that trail in her tone as if she caught you.

"No! A friend has just been giving me some of there's so I haven't been able to eat mine." She laughs and your face is pink.

"Ah I see, so you've been swapping lunches? How cute" You huff at this reasoning, giving up.

Maybe you should just let her believe this anyway. It'd make her happy.

"Nothing’s happening with us Mom, we're just school partners. He's not even all that nice, you know," you mutter that last part to yourself.

She snickers. "Men struggle with their emotions a bit more than we do when it comes to love-"

You shout, "It's not love!"

She waves her hand, gesturing for you to calm down. "Right right, well maybe he's just struggling to convey it to you." Huffing again, you cross your arms. That's not it. She's not listening to you, and you sigh angrily. Seriously, if only she knew.

"I promise you, Mom, that's not it, just believe me okay? We're going to do the project and that's it, he won't be here ever again.." You pause, then point accusingly toward her. "And no being weird!"

"Fine fine, I’ll act normal don't worry, I would hate to embarrass you in front of your crush."

"Ugh, just.. no lunch tomorrow please!"

You squeak out an awkward "thank you!" and she hums, a grin still lingering.

Stomping off to your room, you lightly slam the door and stuff your face into the pillow. You could hear the front door open again, and you're sure your mother is now going to start talking about this mystery "crush" to your father.

You let out a frustrated sigh.

#angst #x reader #fanfic #anime x reader #miya atsumu #miya osamu #miya twins #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #bully x reader #dark x reader #fluff #fluff x reader

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cursedvida · 6 months ago

Note

Honestly. Every two or three days someone publishes a post saying "oh why do you like nomae? If mae is bad, she's the villain, blah blah blah" that makes me wonder if these people have a life beyond wasting their time hating.

If you don't like something, can't you just block it? Or can't you just focus on promoting what you like?

Oh my god, do something productive with your lives.

It's good to see that lately even those who don't ship nomae are against these people.

There are many points we can discuss about this.

For example, we can talk about how absurd and pointless it is to throw hate at a ship. I mean, what do people gain from it? Making others feel bad? Do they really get satisfaction from shaming and trying to make people feel guilty for just trying to escape reality for a while by shipping and fangirling over things they like in a healthy and purely playful way? Do they seriously find any pleasure in it? Does it give them dopamine or something? Because if they really need to crush people to feel better about themselves, what I would recommend is to leave the internet and start therapy because these are indeed very sadistic and sociopathic behaviors.

Putting aside the melodramatic and catastrophic moment, we can also talk about how sad it is to waste time hating something instead of doing something productive like, for example, creating content. They complain that the KotPotA tags are infested with things about Nomae, but do they contribute anything beyond the hate? Do they write dissertations, present theories, upload gifsets or fanarts? No, of course not, they just throw crap. I mean, if it bothers you so much that when you enter the tag 90% of the content is not to your liking, then I invite you to fill the tag with things you do like. You are free to do so. But I guess it’s much easier to just complain instead of making an effort to contribute.

This brings me to another point that I find very ironic. Yes, everything is full of Nomae, but that is precisely what keeps the fandom alive. Every day someone uploads some fanart, some video, some comment or fanfic. Every day there is someone talking in this tag about the topic that, whether many like it or not, means talking about the movies. Let’s be honest, those of us who keep fandoms alive (and I speak in general) are the shippers, especially when they are fandoms of franchises whose content are movies that take years to come out. If it weren’t for people fangirling all the time, there would be no content on social media. I’m sorry if you don’t like that content, but once again I invite you to use your freedom of expression to create rather than try to destroy people’s self-esteem.

But well, as you say, at least there are people with common sense and enough mental maturity to understand that if you don’t like something, the best thing to do is ignore it and that’s it, as well as understanding that shaming people on social media is very much a thing of 15 years ago and today it’s just pathetic.

#kingdom of the planet of the apes #nomae #kotpota #planet of the apes #mae x noa #kotpota mae #kotpota noa #noa x mae #mae #noa

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user472974844 · 4 months ago

Text

noriaki kakyoin x (fem) reader

a little out of character but the world keeps spinning 🤑 he's obv at least 18 in this... i'm doing god's work because there's a heinous lack of kakyoin smut.

this is kinda some kinky fucking shit... basically you edge him and he cries :3

"hahh fuck..." your boyfriend hisses, teeth clenched as you furiously lick and suck at his neck.

"you're mine, noriaki," you whisper in his ear, hands grasping onto his large shoulders, feeling them tense and ripple as he strains.

"m-mhm i'm yours... 'm so sorry..." he whispers, hands gripping your hips, holding you close. "i didn't mean to..."

he trails off, eyes fluttering closed as you bite into his neck, pressing your body further into his.

earlier that morning, some of jotaro's fangirls caught sight of kakyoin with him, and took quite the interest in him. the moment you stormed off, kakyoin felt his heart drop and immediately wished he'd told all of them off. he spent the rest of the day dreading seeing you, knowing you would have that same sad look you'd had that morning in your eyes.

while you assured him you weren't mad at him, only the girls, he wasn't convinced, and promised he'd spend the rest of the weekend with you.

which is how he found himself in this position, his uniform shirt unbuttoned and falling off of his shoulder, you straddling one of his thighs.

his breathing is labored as you continue kissing his neck. "good thing my dad thinks we're asleep," you breathe in his ear, his entire body erupting in goosebumps. "he'd kill you if he saw us right now."

kakyoin chokes back a whimper. "please... i- i've never f-felt like this before." his head lolls back, encouraging more kisses to his neck. "feels so... so good..." he sighs.

you suck a small bruise right under his ear, another down his neck, and another and another until he's squirming and gasping. his cock's throbbing against his slacks with need, and his hips twitch forward, pressing ever so slightly into your knee.

when you continue your assault of hickeys and marks down his neck and across his broad shoulder, his eyes just barely open, glancing down at the way your skirt rides up your thighs. he fully whimpers at this and lets his head flop back again, breathing erratic.

"please... more..." his hips buck against your leg again, mind on nothing but the feeling of your soft, plush lips against his sensitive skin. he's almost convinced he can cum, just like this, with nothing more.

his breath catches in his throat and he gasps as your hand finds it way to his bulge, giving it a small squeeze.

"y-you--" he starts, his voice cracking before he shuts it in embarrassment. "i n-- i need you... oh god please." he breathes, hips bucking slightly. "i'm... please more..."

his hand finds its way up to your hair, gripping it gently and guiding your head to kiss his neck further, harder. "i need you," he repeats, voice filled with a desperation.

you smile into his neck, trailing your hand down his chest, his torso, and back up. he exhales a sharp breath. "please," he whispers, his other hand landing on the small of your back. "stop teasing..."

you continue rubbing his chest and stomach and he whines, head flopping forward as you run a thumb over his nipple. he's convinced he's never needed anything in his life as much as he needs you to touch him. the thought of you stopping sends a rush of panic through him, and he instinctively presses his hand harder against your back, trying to pull you closer.

"i'm not going anywhere, my love," you breathe out, finally, finally bringing your hand back over his bulge and giving it a small squeeze. he moans whorishly and tilts his head back. "yes... thank you... don't stop... please..."

you pull your hand away and he lets out a pathetic noise. "no--" his voice cracks and his face flushes. "i- i'm so sorry, i'm so sorry my beautiful girl, i'll never let them even look at me again, please, i love you so much..." he babbles, voice a couple octaves higher than normal. you've barely even touched him and he's so desperate.

deciding to take mercy on him, you slowly unbutton his pants. kakyoin almost grimaces at the continuous teasing. he immediately lifts his hips for you to pull them down, bunching them up at his mid thighs and leaving him in his boxers.

kakyoin wonders how he got to be like this so quickly. whenever he'd imagined times like this, he always pictured himself fucking you, and while he wouldn't fully admit it to himself, he loved the thought of being rough with you, completely overpowering you and making you a mess. but now, as he lay beneath you, gasping and twitching, he finds himself loving the way you so easily weaken and control him. it makes his mind numb, desperately wanting more.

"you want me to take care of you, noriaki?" you slowly rub your hand up and down his cock over his boxers. he nods frantically.

"y-yes... yes p-please."

you continue stroking him through his boxers, the friction making him hiss loudly. he lets his hands make their way up your body, slightly trembling hands finding the buttons on your own uniform shirt. "can i?" he whispers.

you nod with a smile and he undoes the first few buttons on your shirt, giving him a direct look at your tits in your bra that leaves very little to the imagination. he groans, hips bucking and grinding up into your hand.

you lean closer to him, tits pressed right against his bare chest and he breathlessly moans. your cold hand dips inside his boxers, finding its way around his cock. the coolness of your hand makes him arch his back with a small grimace, hands finding the sheets to ground himself.

"you're so desperate noriaki..." you giggle, not yet moving your hand.

"yes... yes i'm so desperate, please just--" he's cut off with a gasp for air as you begin moving your hand, torturously slowly up his cock, then back down.

kakyoin sighs, closing his eyes. his abdomen twitches every time your hand comes in contact with his tip and he realizes he's never known how sensitive he is. his hair is disheveled, some strands sticking to his face and neck with sweat. he processes that he probably looks like a mess right now, with his heaving chest and trembling legs, but can't really bring himself to care.

"please..." he whimpers softly, his gaze pleading. you grin and pull his boxers down his hips, leaving them bunched up with his slacks and fully freeing him. the sight is terribly lewd, with his rock hard cock an agitated red color, tip glistening and leaking with precum. his entire length is visibly twitching and throbbing and kakyoin's mouth hangs open.

he squeezes his eyes shut, a violent blush creeping up his chest, neck and face at the way you gaze at his cock. "s-- please-- stop staring, i-- it's--" he trails off with a hard swallow when you look up into his eyes, cocking an eyebrow. "fuck..." is all he manages to breathe out.

kakyoin's hand comes up to cover his gaping mouth when you grasp his cock in your hands again, eyes rolling up as you rub your thumb in circles along his frenulum.

"don't stop... please don't stop, i can't take it if-- if-- if you-- fuckfuck hnngg--" his body tenses as you begin to stroke him slowly.

a bead of sweat drips down his face, and he squeezes his eyes shut when you leave wet, open-mouthed kisses along his chest. he's never been touched like this, and finds himself very overwhelmed.

"noriaki..." you say sweetly. "i have a little idea... you wanna bring out hierophant?"

he looks at you with a desperate look in his eyes, not fully processing what you said, but letting out a whiny "mhmm" nonetheless.

he summons hierophant green, and you have kakyoin sit it next to him. feeling very odd about your actions, you run your hand up and down hierophant's thigh. "so... if i jerk him off, will you feel it?"

kakyoin lazily lifts his head to look at you "y-yes-- in theory--" he chokes. "please h-hurry-- i don't think i can take m-much more--"

a hand comes to cup his cheek and he immediately leans into your touch, cock twitching at the treatment. you shake your head. "you're such a strong boy, i know you can take it," you say, thumb stroking his cheek. with that, you trail your fingers the rest of the way up hierophant's leg, up to its dick. "the safeword is cupcake."

the feeling of wrapping your hand around a stand's cock isn't a normal one, but the reaction kakyoin has makes up for it.

he gasps loudly, hands pulling and twisting at the sheets. the sensation of his stand being touched and not him is too much and not enough all at once and it sort of sends him spiraling.

"oh my god oh my god i need more... i-- i-- cant cum like this, p-please don't make me, not enough please i need more," he pleads, hips bucking wildly. he knew he'd make you pay for this one way or another, but wasn't too focused on that at the moment.

"please," he sounds like he's gonna cry. you take pity on the poor boy, wrapping your other hand around his cock too. the dual sensation is almost too much and he cries out, back arching as he forcefully presses his head into the bed. "FUCK."

"is that too much? should i stop?"

"NO--" his voice cracks. "no p-please you-- you can't stop i can't-- please don't stop," his voice is terribly whiny and many octaves higher than normal.

"god noriaki, you're a mess right now..." you move your hand, torturously slowly, up his cock. he lets out a small, tearless sob when you rub your thumbs along the slit of both his and his stand's cocks.

he gasps and writhes, head thrashing back against the pillow he's laying on. "pleaseeee please please m-more-- pleaseee i'm-- i'm gonna c-cum--" he hiccups, jaw clenching as he throws his head back.

"please... please say i can cum... tell me i can, i need you-- y-you n-need to say it puh- please P-PLEASE..." his voice raises in urgency as he hurtles towards his climax much too quickly for his liking. "PLEASE SAY IT--" he stops, gasping, right on the brink.

and you pull away. his entire body jerks and he cries out, back arching as his cock throbs painfully.

"NO, PLEASE--" his voice quivers. you clap a hand to his mouth. "noriaki, you're gonna get us caught... fuck you're so hot like this though."

kakyoin's eyebrows are furrowed like he's about to cry, eyes pleading with you, his chest heaving with every sharp breath he takes.

you pull your hand away from his mouth and kiss him gently. "this is your punishment for earlier. i don't fucking like it when you let other bitches flirt with you."

he tilts his head back, eyes shut, breath heavy. "fuck im so sorry..." he whines. "i don't-- i don't know w-why i w-would--" he shudders and his hips jerk into nothing as another bead of precum leaks from his tip. "fuck..."

you begin to slowly move your hand along hierophant's cock, and kakyoin lets out a high pitched, frantic whine.

he's drenched in sweat, his entire body shaking. his usually well-styled hair sticks to his face in clumps and his hands hurt with the death grip he has on the sheets.

"do you need me to stop? i don't want it to be too much."

"no, no," he gasps. "i c-c-can-- i c-can take it--"

"god noriaki imagine someone else seeing you like this. imagine jotaro seeing you like this."

kakyoin's hips arch up and he squeezes his eyes shut, nostrils flaring. "stop... don't... d-don't say that-- i c-can't-- i don't w-want them to s-see m-e like this..." his voice trembles violently and you wonder how much more of this he can actually take.

"poor baby, i'm sorry for being so mean...

i just love seeing you like this." you press some more kisses to his chest, intensifying your ministrations. his breathing had finally settled, until you nip and suck at the skin on his chest, shuffling down to give the same treatment down his lean stomach. you can't help but leave many marks, loving the way he squirms and gasps under you, bottom lip bitten to the point of swelling. his ears and face burn a bright red color, extremely flustered. "please..." he whispers.

you continue to only jerk off hierophant green and kakyoin tugs at the sheets, eyes rolling almost completely up into his head. "p-please i-- im sorry-- i promise it won't happen again--" his voice is incredibly strained, and to your shock, a couple tiny holes have been ripped into your sheets from his nails.

you run your hand up his abs and chest, nails gently raking down his skin on the way back down. finally, finally you wrap your hand around his cock again. kakyoin whimpers, his body tensing as you tighten your grip.

he forces his eyes to stay open, focusing on the way your small hand wraps around his large cock. the sight expels any breath he has in his lungs sharply and he gasps for air. "you're so beautiful..." he breathes, the whine in his voice audible.

finally you begin to move your hand again and his jaw falls open, trembling. his eyes squeeze shut yet again beneath furrowed brows and he can only mewl pathetically.

you keep a horribly slow pace, one that ensures he can't cum, and he gasps for air like he's dying. so dramatic.

"let's hope my dad's asleep, noriaki, wouldn't want him hearing you, would we?"

he shakes his head furiously, eyes still shut tight. he imagines you in his position, trapped under him, begging and whining and pleading for more. he'd make you wait until you couldn't take it anymore, and then draw it out even longer. he would make a fucking mess out of you. he groans breathlessly and pictures you tied up, begging pathetically for his cock. in his fantasy, he's not as whiny and desperate as he is now. in his fantasy, he's in complete control, fucking you brutally while you scream his name. he can practically hear the way your voice would sound, hoarse from crying out his name. your plush lips would form into a beautiful pout as you silently beg him to let you cum.

kakyoin shudders and is pulled from his thoughts by you kissing his neck again. he realizes how sensitive his neck is and panics slightly. "w-wait wait wait 'm gonna cum-- you-- you gotta stop-- 'm fucking sensitive--" his voice is frantic.

noriaki kakyoin has always been such a calm, reserved, collected person. he realizes he loves being forcefully taken out of this state.

"i love you so much, please let me cum-- i need it so bad. i'll do anything you want, i don't care-- please just let me--"

he almost squeals as he nears his climax again. he attempts to speak but he's so beyond fucked out, his words come out as incoherent jibberish. he gasps and pants and writhes and--

you pull your hand away from kakyoin's cock, but not his stand's. he lets out a long, pained groan and arches his back hard. "NO, PLEASE, YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME--" he cries out, immediately clapping a hand to his mouth. he feels tears pricking in his eyes and he closes them, chest and shoulders heaving.

when he opens his very bright eyes, he looks at you with a quivering lip. "p-please i-- i can't t--" he hiccups, a tear rolling down his cheek. "i can't take anymore." he lets his head flop down, each intake of breath shaking as another tear falls from his eyes.

you feel your heart break and your pussy throb at the same time. fuck. "noriaki, my sweet boy i didn't mean to make you cry. i'm so sorry, please don't cry," you cup his face in both of your hands, pulling him towards you to kiss him tenderly.

you pull his head in gently so he's resting against your chest, hiccuping, and he lets out a sob. "are... you gonna let me cum?" he whimpers, looking up at you with shining eyes. his hands find their way to your top, which is hanging off one of your shoulders, and he clings to it, shaking.

"of course i will, you've been so good," you coo, stroking his hair. you feel truly horrible for making the poor boy cry, and you hold him tighter. "i'm so proud of you. you're doing such a good job, i'm so sorry for teasing you so much."

"it's o-ok--" he whispers, another tear rolling down his cheek and onto his trembling lip.

you kiss his forehead and hold him close. "i love you noriaki, i can't believe how good you're being. can you forgive me for making you cry?"

he nods, sniffling. "please make me cum," his voice is barely audible.

"of course baby, im so proud of you."

you let him go and he sniffles again, taking deep, shaking breaths.

you wrap your hand around both cocks again and begin to slowly stroke. kakyoin gasps and brings his grip back to your shirt, twisting and pulling the fabric between his fingers. he buries his face in your neck and pants, preparing himself to be edged again.

"please don't tease me anymore, i'm begging you. i can't take it anymore, i've been so good, please just-- AH--" he's cut off as you rub his and his stand's tips.

the feeling of being jerked off alone is enough, and the way you also touch his stand creates an unbearable amount of stimulation. no wonder he's crying.

"shh it's ok noriaki, just relax, i promise i'll let you cum, ok?"

he nods frantically and you speed up your hand. kakyoin nibbles on his lip, hard, and he groans at the slight pain.

you tighten your grip around his and hierophant's cocks and he shudders, nails digging into your shoulders as he desperately holds onto you.

"it hurts... it hurts so bad... i just... need to cum..." he says between gasps. "i'm... i just... i can't..." his words come out mildly slurred and a small spot of drool seeps from the corner of his mouth.

"you're so good for me, noriaki, good job, baby, i love you so much," you whisper in his ear, kissing his head as you continue your ministrations. "i love you too," his voice is a high-pitched whisper, and he's finally not crying anymore.

his lips slowly and gently kiss your neck, inhaling your scent. he groans shamelessly and kisses harder, sucking and licking. you let out a breathless chuckle. "thank you noriaki, that feels very good."

he hugs onto you tighter, hips involuntarily twitching and bucking up into your hand. he's impossibly close and he mewls loudly, throwing his head back as his adam's apple bobs. his neck looks incredibly enticing and you can't help kissing it again.

"that's it... that's it fuck i'm g-gonna cum im gonna cum im gonna fucking cum please... p-please say i can-- i need you to say it... please please say it... i-- i-- PLEASE SAY I CAN CUM--" his voice is nothing short of hysterical and his body shakes violently, muscles tensing and un-tensing.

"go ahead noriaki, you've been so good."

kakyoin's body freezes for a moment, you speed up your hands, and he falls apart. his nails scratch into your back as he shakily clings to you, his neck stains as his vision goes white, overwhelming shockwaves of pleasure coursing through his body.

"FUCKFUCKFUCK--" he cries out, letting out filthy whimper after filthy whimper. his cock, hot to the touch, pulses as he finally cums an ungodly amount, releasing all over his stomach and your hand. you jerk him through his climax, kissing his forehead and face all over. his abdomen spasms and his toes curl. his orgasm lasts almost painfully long, the pleasure beyond overwhelming. he finally lets out a dejected whine of overstimulation and you let his cock go.

his body finally relaxes and he flops against you, still clinging to you lazily. "thank you," he whispers, his voice back to his regular low, smooth grumble.

"of course. can you forgive me for being so mean?"

he nods against you, heavy breathing slowing down. "'m not mad..."

"can i clean you up now?" you stoke his hair softly, holding him closer to you. he shakes his head. "wanna lay here some more..."

you nod and hold him even tighter. "thank you for taking it so well, i'm so proud of you."

he nuzzles his face further into your chest, breathing evening out. "thank you," he breathes out, almost inaudible. "i love you."

"i love you more," you whisper. he closes his eyes and you grab his face. "noriaki, let's get you cleaned up before you fall asleep, yeah?"

his eyes flutter open, looking at you and nodding. you grab his shoulders and lay him back softly. you grab one of your stuffed animals and set it on his bare chest. he snorts in laughter and grabs it, grinning. "doggy? i feel honored."

you smile and kiss his forehead again, running to your bathroom to grab a rag.

you wet the washcloth and fill up a cup of water. returning to your room, you see kakyoin's eyes shut peacefully, mouth slightly agape as he snoozes, holding your stuffie. in an attempt to not wake him, you gently wipe his cum off of his stomach, and off of your hands. you wipe his cock gently and he wakes, eyes fluttering open with a soft gasp.

"i'm sorry, i'm just getting you cleaned up. drink some water," you help him sit up and hand him the glass of water. he gulps it down quickly, some water dribbling from one of the corners of his mouth.

"thank you," he whispers, grabbing your waist and pulling you down on top of him, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"sleep with me," me murmurs. "i'm exhausted."

"i bet you are," you say. "i put you through the wringer."

he chuckles softly and lets his eyes close again, almost immediately shutting his eyes. kakyoin quickly drifts off to sleep, holding you tightly, very content.

i'll make another part if anyone fucks with this

#jjba #noriaki kakyoin #jjba smut

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mysicklove-main · 1 year ago

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Uzui Tengen is known for his dramatics. You knew that when you first decided to marry him, and have grown used to it with the years. His flashy appearance and bold words don't even phase you now. That's just who he is and who you came to love.

Until he gets sick. The dramatics pick up to a whole level you've never thought could occur. Of course if other people saw him that we're not you, or his other wives, he would pretend to be fine, grinning and showing off. But he would never let his lovers off the hook like that, it would be not flashy at all.

“I think it's time I say my final goodbye.”

You roll your eyes, placing a damp towel on his forehead. He coughs, and honestly you can't tell if it's fake or not, but you hold out a cup for him to drink a water out of. When he doesn't move, you sigh and press it to his lips, watching with amusement at the way he gulps it down. “Your fever is bound to break soon, maybe if you stopped complaining and rest, you'll feel better.”

He glances at you when you pull the cup away, a small pout on his face. “Hurts so bad, I must be dying. I feel so weak," His voice is horse, and his body is unusually warm.

You can't help but want to dote on him at his words. He's got to be acting just a bit, but he truly does sound broken. But before you could comfort him he says, “Is this how you feel like all the time? This weak?”

You sigh, pinching your brows, but you can't help the smile that creeps on your face. He's so ridiculous, but at least he keeps you on your toes. In his sickly state or not. “Really?”

“Just joking. I know you aren't this weak.” You can see it in his eyes that he wants to boast about his strength again, but your watchful eyes shut it down. You adore how powerful your husband is, but you weren't Suma who fangirls every time he spoke about himself (Of course you did love that side of Suma as well, it was cute seeing her so excited).

You roll your eyes again but smile at him, and adjust the bedsheets, pulling them higher up on his chest. He let's out a throaty complaint, but doesn't fight it. “Hey, where are the others? Can't bare to see me this pathetic?”

“No, “god” of the dramatics.” He frowns at the mock nickname. “You scared the daylights out of Suma, who actually thinks you're going to die. Hinatsura is comforting her outside. And you know Makio, she isn't the one to be near when someone is sick.”

He hums, closing his eyes for the first time in the past hour with a content smile on his face. “So I get you all to myself, huh?”

You grin, puffing up his pillow again before sitting in the chair next to him. “Guess you can say that. Until your fever breaks at least.”

“Nurse Y/N,” He sighs, breathlessly with a grin on his face. His eyes are still shut and by the looks of it he is imagining something lewd.

You shut it down immediately. “No. I'm not a nurse. I'm an assassin.”

He ignores your words. “Why arent you wearing the cute outfit. I'm sickly, please treat me nurse!”

“I'm leaving,” You deadpan, but before you can stand up a hand flies to your wrist. He tilts his head toward you with a small apologetic smile. His cheeks are flushed from the fever and his neck is slightly beaded with sweat.

“Sorry. I'm done, I'm done, promise. Just stay with me? Honestly, I am a little scared about how week I feel." The tone of his voice is solemn, and his hands slightly tremble on your wrist. You grab onto it and set it back down on the bed, and grab the cloth to dab the beads of sweat on his neck.

It's been ages since he has gotten sick. The last time probably in his early teens, so you aren't too surprised he is uncomfortable, but it was surprising for him to admit something like this. “Scared” is not in his vocabulary, or at least he preaches.

So you take pity on him, and smile at him. “Of course, Lord Tengen. Close your eyes and rest, I'll be here when you wake up, promise.”

He glances at you for a final time, and closes his eyes. “Thanks, Nurse Y/N.”

You shake your head slowly, and take in his appearance. Even in his sweaty, weak state he wears his signature smug grin that you've grown to love. You can't be too mad at him.

#another one #i wonder if u guys like when i write drabbles #they r so fun #anyways tags #tengen x reader #uzui x reader #tengen uzui #uzui fluff #tengen fluff #tengen uzui x reader #kny fluff #kny x reader #uzui drabbles #tengen drabbles #x reader #reader insert #kny fanfic #tengen kny #mello.writes

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exo-raskreia · 1 month ago

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I have always been an IR shipper. Earlier, I used to be indifferent to IH but now I just hate it. Thousand Year Blood War Arc is trying so hard to push IH that it's irritating. Ichigo is not in his character. He's a completely different person now. He's not that brash but endearing character I knew. Funny how he's acting lovey dovey around Orihime but still calling her Inoue lol.

I hate how IH shippers compare their ship with every every other Canon ship especially Naruhina, IzuOcha, Erenmika. When they get called out they try to uplift their ship by bringing other ships down. Like do they realize theirs is the only ship Where they Boy and the Girl don't understand each other at all. Theirs is the only ship where the Boy and Girl don't call each other by their names( though they are supposed to be friends but idc) Seriously every single thing Orihime knows about Ichigo is hearing it from someone else. Ichigo never told his insecurities to her. I seriously wonder how does their marriage even work? Like does she have to call Rukia every time Ichigo gets depressed. For real, she cannot even cheer him up lol. Ichigo also does not really know much about Orihime. Give me one instance where He called her strong. There is none.

IH shippers force people to believe that Orihime's love for Ichigo was real. Funny thing is IH started from Orihime crushing on Ichigo but Never once I felt that Yes, she really does love him. She NEVER had that impact in his life. She never fought for him, nor risked her life for him. Who did all of this? Rukia. She made an impact on his life and Saved him countless times. Ichigo considered her his true soulmate and Saved her too. It's So insulting how IH shippers call Ichigo was returning the favour to Rukia by saving her or He was obliged to save Her. They try so hard to downplay Ichigo and Rukia's bond that in the process they shit on Ichigo's character.

They compare Orihime to Masaki, the mother who died protecting Ichigo. They also compare Orihime to Hinata, who made sacrifices for Naruto and almost died protecting him same as his mother Kushina did. Like Ori has no Character of her own and only by mentioning other great female characters who actually impacted the Main character's life they think they can give validation to IH.

TYBW completely removed Rukia from anywhere near Ichigo. Why so? To develop the already Canon ship. IH has always been a minority group and Kubo is so scared to even give a single IR scene since he knows The IR fandom is still active and still massive. It's so funny how Rukia has to be completely removed from Ichigo's life to make his relation with Orihime function. Must be pathetic to be in the IH fandom. They say We IRs are the ones insecure of them, when it reality their own fav Ori was so jealous and insecure of Ichigo and Rukia's relation that she cried pathetically. She even commented about their 'Chemistry'. She tried to convince Ichigo not to save Rukia by manipulating him but it didn't work. Ichigo had no idea what kind of a person Ori was by then otherwise he would have cut off what tid bits of friendship he had with her.

Sorry of the lost post. Wanted to get things off my chest. I just couldn't stand this IH glazing in TYBW arc..😮‍💨

Totally agree, anon! You cooked!

The fact Kub0 & Pierrot have to push Rukia aside to "try" throwing some scraps to IH says a lot... Her presence is too powerful, too impactful, that she gets Ichigo's undivided attention every time... Their interactions overshadow everything else around them...

I don't watch the TYBW anime, but I heard IH got some crumbs, tho it doesn't seem like anything to fangirl over? Like the bar is too low 😬. He still ignores her from what I've heard? They can't make him pay too much attention to her cuz then it'd be OOC, lol.

It's pathetic how IH's try to compare IH to other canon ships. Ships it only shares superficial similarities with. All those ships came to an understanding, impacted each other's lives, have actual content from the authors themselves (even if little), & are quite beloved by fans to this day. IH is NOT a beloved ship & despite being canon for almost 10 years, they have no content nor apparent love from the author nor his affiliates. Saddest canon ship in battle shounen (alongside RR) 💀.

No chemistry, no development, no color spreads, no big confession (Ori's silly confession to an unconscious Ichigo does NOT count), no kiss, no bonding moment, nothing. Severely unpopular for a canon ship in a battle shounen (the impact of IR was, & still is, too strong). Japanese fans don't even care about IH (maybe that's why SJ & Pierrot don't bother giving IH much of anything; they know how unpopular it is 💀). Maybe that's why IH's try to ride on the coattails of other canon ships, as they can barely stand on their own. The "canon" label is the only thing keeping IH afloat. And the "non-canon" label is the ONLY thing keeping some ppl from shipping IR (and/or openly, at that) 🫢.

Ori only had a shallow crush on Ichigo cuz not once did she prove any real love. As u said, she had no impact on him, never risked her life for him like Rukia did or any other shounen girl like Hinata & Mikasa did for their loves. Definitely a disservice to those girls, even Masaki & Kushina, to compare Ori to them. Ichigo never acknowledged her. He never thought her strong nor amazing. Ori did NOT have what it takes to be a heroine nor love interest to the MC (and that's Kub0's fault for not developing her & wasting her early potential).

But yeah, must be sad to be in the IH fandom... being canon but have no real content to brag about & mostly dudebros seem to defend it 😬... Imagine your ship being carried by dudebros... 💀

#anti ichihime #ichiruki #anonymous #reiapost

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junlordofeggs · 6 months ago

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If the two ever met, Trinity would tell Tetra lots and lots of stories about her youth, including her life with the god who would later go onto become Fresh.

Her relationship with current day Fresh brings to mind the mangaka of Sailor Moon who said that she liked her men "just a little bit pathetic", and her husband, the mangaka of Hunter x Hunter, is notorious for being bad at taking care of himself.

You wanna know who else is horrible at taking care of himself? My favourite old motherfucker. Sorry fangirls, but this old man is stinky because he never learned how to use deodorant.

#just shapes and beats #jsab #jsab art #jsab au #jsab blixer #jsab: coda au #jsab square #jsab cube

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stars-over-ice-cream · 17 days ago

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hello and happy holidays!!! my secret santa was (surprise surprise lmao) @klance-daydreams :)) kd i hope you're having a great time and that you enjoy reading my fic lololol this was so much fun it even has two parts!! ty for organisning this <3

part one | part two

For the record, Lance blames this entire situation on Keith. After all, it’s his fault that Lance’s tongue is positively burned to a crisp, and it’s his fault that around fifteen cups of hot chocolate are missing from the kitchen.

“You need to take a course for damage control,” Pidge mutters, handing him a mop. Lance stares at it, shuddering.

“Pidge. Please, don’t make me go out there.”

“Hunk’s an angel, I’m busy taking inventory, and no one else is here right now,” they count off their fingers.

“I’m an angel too and you know it,” Lance mutters.

“You burn kitchens. The only thing Hunk burns is a crème brûlée.”

Lance ignores the urge to fangirl over Hunk’s cooking—there are more pressing matters at stake, believe it or not, like who should be the one to face the chocolate war zone outside.

“What about Keith?” he asks. “He’d love to be sacrificed.”

“What if you two went out together?" Hunk proposes, clasping both his hands together.

Lance almost short-circuits, replying in what feels like a delayed reaction. "Ew!"

His voice comes out high-pitched and wavering. He’s all for blaming this on the mess outside, it’s probably making his brain lag more than usual.

“What?” Hunk asks innocently. “What I meant is, uh, you two would be very efficient cleaners out on the battlefield. Not as in went out, like, on a date. Obviously.”

Lance doesn't like that look in his eyes.

"I'm revoking your access to my Netflix," he threatens, as Keith’s voice just so happens to echo through the kitchen doorway.

“Lance, if you’re blaming me for your pathetic heat tolerance, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Speak of the devil." The brunette rolls his eyes as a slightly miffed Keith swings the door open.

Despite being inside for at least an hour, his nose is still red from the below freezing temperatures outside, and his whole face actually seems slightly flushed, the more Lance thinks about it. A scarf dangles from his shoulders like an afterthought.

Lance raises his eyebrows. “Shouldn’t you have taken that off, like, last century?”

It’s a low blow, but Keith set the bar when he decided to—what was it again?—oh, yeah. Chug three boiling hot chocolates in the span of two minutes. Then, with a stupidly pretty grin that Lance couldn’t say no to and eyes that seemed tipsy, challenge him to do the same. And because he’s such a trendsetter, which is a given, at least four other groups try the same task.

The result?

Altea Cafe, trashed. Hot beverages spilled on the floor, tables, even on the walls. Someone had the nerve to call it abstract art, as if they were doing Lance and his lot a favour.

“Very funny," Keith says.

“I do that sometimes.”

Giving him a signature scowl, Keith turns to Hunk and Pidge with a considerably nicer look on his face. “For the record, I’m sorry for the mess.”

“What?” Lance says. He does his best to ignore the curiously smug look on Pidge’s face—he knows that his mouth has been talking nonstop around Keith, but it doesn’t mean anything. Or at least nothing that Pidge and Hunk keep insinuating.

Keith stares at the blue-eyed boy, deadpan. “For the record, I’m sorry for the mess. I know an otorhinolaryngologist, if you want.”

Smartass.

Lance can’t deny that long words suit him, though. It just fits with the three piercings on his ears, the quick quips of his tongue, the sharp cut of his jaw. Long words are Keith’s thing, Lance decides. And it’s not because it makes his throat a little dry.

“Grab a mop and start cleaning, if you’re so sorry,” he says, suddenly fully aware that he’s probably been staring. Chucking an old mop over, it lands a metre from Keith’s feet.

“Impressive,” Keith says, sarcasm dripping off his tongue.

“As if you can say much!” Lance snaps. “Last time I checked, the mess outside is all because of you, so.”

Unaffected, Keith says flatly, “You were the one who dropped at least three cups from ‘adrenaline,’ and then proceeded to—”

“Nope! Sorry, I’m not fluent in lies and slander.”

Pidge snickers, exchanging looks with Hunk, who in turn clears his throat.

"Maybe you two would like taking this outside?" he offers, and if Lance hadn't known him for three years, he would've thought that Hunk was trying to be genuinely helpful.

Alas, he's actually playing the matchmaker card.

"No thanks," Lance says through gritted teeth. The last thing he needs is for his frankly embarrassing attempt at sweeping under tables to be seen by, well, him.

Him, at this moment, is a pain in the ass. But other times—when he’s not spouting libel against Lance like it’s his job—he can actually be quite nice. And pretty. And funny. And kind of hot.

Lance could go on about him for a while, really. It's a scientifically proven fact. Hunk once recorded a fifty minute swoon session for Lance so that he could realise just how far gone he is.

“Whipped,” Pidge snorted after Hunk texted them about it.

So, yeah. The severity of Lance’s romantic attraction is well known in his friend group, and yet he’s still subjected to knowing looks and waggling eyebrows with no mercy.

It’s honestly ridiculous! One day, Lance is going to explode with embarrassment. How much can a guy take? High doses of Keith Kogane—aforementioned pain in the ass—and relentless teasing have probably been proven fatal, after all. It's a lethal combination.

Lance would know, seeing as sometimes, it actually does feel like he's fighting for his life. Even though he’s come to the conclusion that if he ignores Keith for long enough the crush will magically disappear. Despite what his friends think, it is a phase. Just like his thankfully short soft spot for Nyma, or Allura.

He just has to get over himself.

Interrupting his thoughts, Pidge says, "Lance, you must've got Keith really worked up if he's taken his hands out of his pockets."

"Hm?" he asks, neck craning to see the ever rare phenomenon.

"—anyways, all I'm saying is, if you weren't so loud about it, no one would've heard about the challenge, right?" Keith's saying to Hunk, hands widely gesturing.

Lance doesn’t find it cute. At all. But that's where he and Pidge disagree.

“Dude, you’re staring,” they mock whisper.

“No I’m not!” Lance shoots back, heated. Just to give himself something to do, he pulls himself up onto the counter.

Keith seems to have finished his recounting of the hot chocolate challenge, and he turns to Lance, eyes piercing, locking onto him with absolutely no precision—almost dazed, blurred. They’re so bright yet dark at the same time, nothing like what Lance has seen before, and the realness of the moment catches up to him in a heartbeat.

His throat is giving up on him, Lance is pretty sure. Go figure.

“What did I do now?” he asks defensively, forever on autopilot, preparing for another verbal jab. “Did I, like,—”

And that’s when it happens.

The voice crack.

Lance cringes so bad he nearly falls off the counter. He said goodbye, hell, he yelled goodbye to voice cracks in middle school. Hunk stifles a laugh, turning around to the cupboard, and Pidge closes their eyes, sighing as if to say you’re fucking kidding me.

And Keith?

He snorts, staring at Lance’s truly and deservedly red face, and starts giggling. Throwing his head back and laughing, the scarf almost unwinding itself from him because he’s shaking that much.

What the fuck.

Keith turns around to face Hunk as if to say, you heard that too, right?, and the few seconds of silence dissolves into what Lance would officially clarify as hysterics. Great, lovely, absolutely perfect! At this rate, he’s going to have to give him back to Shiro with a no return policy: Lance cannot, and will not, look Keith in the eye again. Ever.

It’s a matter of respect and dignity, and Lance really doesn’t appreciate the Pidge inside his head doubting the fact that he has any left. Whatever. This entire day has been a shitstorm, and if he even glanced at the cafe it would only be physical evidence of that.

But the worst part?

Mortifying as it is, Lance can’t find it in himself to look away from Keith’s face. The kitchen’s overhead lights catch a glint in his eyes, and all of a sudden Lance deems his laugh the best sound he’s ever heard, even if it’s an outcome from possibly the most embarrassing moment of his life.

As the seconds wear on, Keith’s laughter doesn’t really subside (which is a pro and con for Lance, the more he thinks about it) and soon he’s wheezing, doubled over. Honestly, it’s a wonder he hasn’t collapsed yet. Pidge has their phone whipped out—who needs paparazzi when you’ve got a gremlin with a penchant for blackmail?—and Hunk is batting his eyes at Lance, gesturing at his cheekbones, mockingly swooning.

“Shut up,” Lance would’ve hissed, if it weren’t for the fact that he doesn’t trust his own tongue anymore.

“It’s official,” Pidge says. “You’re a safety hazard. Look at Keith, Lance—” Lance wants to cry, that’s literally all he’s been doing—“you’ve broken him.”

“I think you should do something,” Hunk suggests. “To make up for his… malfunction.”

“I’ll apologise to Shiro when he comes around,” Lance replies, wondering if he should text him in advance. It might cause a little bit of whiplash, after all.

“Uh, no,” Hunk says, affronted. “You should make it up to Keith.”

“Maybe us, too,” Pidge says wryly, “we deserve financial compensation for listening to that voice crack.” Lance scoffs. “But seriously, Keith.”

“You guys are making this into such a big deal,” Lance says. “I didn’t even do anything!”

His two apparent ‘best friends’ give each other a Look, and it’s almost like clockwork, the way they subtly try to leave.

“Would you look at that?” Pidge yawns, staring at their watch. “God, I forgot. Me and Matt have to get dinner ready. Oops.”

“It’s four in the fucking afternoon, Pidge.”

“Dinner takes a lot of time to prepare, Lance,” Hunk reasons. Traitor. “And I have a date with Shay, too. Guess I’ve gotta go.”

“Guys, please,” Lance almost begs, “I can’t be alone with Keith! Not when he looks drunk off his ass!”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he is,” Pidge mutters. “It’s, like, the only cure for crushing. Not that I would know.”

“What?”

That’s the second time—nope, scratch that, third time—today that Lance has nearly lost it. What do they mean, ‘only cure for crushing’? Is that the Pidge way of letting Lance know his crush on Keith is, well, unrequited? That he’s in love with someone else?

Christ. Well. Thanks, Pidge.

The door slams behind the two, a quick and cheery ‘bye!’ being Lance's only answer to the question.

He turns to Keith out of pure confusion, only to find the raven head slumped against one of the counters, sitting on the floor with his eyes closed.

Yeah, hands down, this is the weirdest day of Lance’s fucking life.

Keith hums, and Lance wonders whether he’s actually drunk—that would explain a lot, like his flushed face and skewed behaviour.

He doesn't really know what to say. Or do. It's awkward, and the silence only paves way for what Pidge said: it's, like, the only cure for crushing.

"Hi," Lance says, because if he thinks about it too much he will probably start crying, the tightness of his throat tells him that much. Hopefully he'll be blessed with Keith saying something dumb instead as a distraction.

"God, I sound like a loser," Lance mutters after a few moments of no reply. "What say you, Kogane?"

Nothing.

"You're dry as fuck."

Rinse and repeat.

"Practically burnt toast."

Once more with feeling, he supposes.

"But Keith, the thing is, expired bread grows mould, not ugly mullets."

The asshole doesn't stir at all—and no, Lance definitely isn't upset about it. He just thinks that it's too smart a line to be wasted on an unconscious Keith.

It's stupid that he's getting ghosted by him in real life. Embarrassingly stupid.

So, like a good Gen Z, he gets out his phone.

part one | part two

#voltron #klance #klance secret santa 2024 #i have to go rightttt now so ill add links in later ack #tyty kd !!!

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