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solxamber · 3 months ago

Note

can I request a twst males (maybe females)and nrc staff with a reader who kinda likes deforms when their stress , they could be like a human slime who 'slops' around , she's human enough but some parts of her are slimy (maybe like a human magma slime from minecraft) , they stresses a lot and one day they just blob into their hands (the twst males ans staff) whilst they start crying , if this is too complicated u can ignore this.(my English is not too god)

Slime! Reader with All NRC + Rollo, Neige, Najma Viper, NRC Staff

hi! i hope I've interpreted your ask correctly! and your English is totally fine don't worry about! also I added najma because i didn't know which twst females you wanted.

Riddle Rosehearts:

When Riddle first sees you start to "slop" around, he’s at a loss for words. He's usually composed and strict, but seeing you melt in his arms—quite literally—throws him off.

“Y-You're not following the rules of physical form!” Riddle stammers, attempting to keep calm, but inside, he’s panicking. His need to control the situation is overridden by concern when you cry softly, slimy tears soaking into his uniform.

He awkwardly pats your head, trying to keep himself together. “There, there. You can cry as much as you need to, but please… maintain some semblance of form.”

Trey Clover:

Trey, with his calm demeanor, isn’t too fazed by the fact that you’re half-human, half-slime. In fact, he’s probably the most accepting.

When you melt into a puddle of stress in his arms, he just holds you close, gently massaging your shoulders (well, where your shoulders should be in slime form). “You know, stress baking helps me,” he says soothingly. “Maybe once you’re feeling solid again, we can bake something together. Or… we can make slime cookies?” He smiles softly as your sobs slow.

Cater Diamond:

Cater's immediate reaction is to whip out his phone for a picture—but then he stops himself because this moment is actually serious. When you’re upset and melting all over him, he adjusts quickly.

“Whoa, hey, hey! No need to puddle-up on me!” Cater jokes lightly but holds you tightly, letting you feel safe. “You know, I’ve heard slime baths are all the rage on MagiCam! How about we figure out how to make this slime stress into a #trend?”

Despite his attempt to lighten the mood, his grip is firm, and he lets you cry it out.

Ace Trappola:

Ace, being Ace, doesn’t know what to do when you start to melt into slime. His first instinct is to make fun of the situation, but the second you start crying, he feels a little bad.

“Okay, okay! I didn’t mean to stress you out that much!” Ace protests, awkwardly wiping your slimy tears. “You know, some people use this stuff for beauty treatments, so really, you’re just giving me a free face mask.”

Even though he’s flustered, Ace sticks by your side, not moving until you feel better.

Deuce Spade:

Deuce’s first instinct is to panic when he sees you melting. His problem-solving brain kicks into overdrive, but there’s no quick fix for slime stress.

“I-Is this normal?! Should I be calling a healer?” he blurts out while cradling you, his heart racing. His protective instincts take over as he holds you close, even though you’re all slimy. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure this out. I’ve got your back, okay?”

Leona Kingscholar:

Leona looks down at the slimey version of you with a raised eyebrow. He wasn’t expecting to literally have you melting in his arms.

“You’re a mess, herbivore,” Leona grumbles, but there's a warmth in his voice as he holds onto you, preventing you from dripping all over the floor. He doesn’t let go, even when his tail gets a little slimy too. “Don’t worry about it. Just stick close, okay?”

Ruggie Bucchi:

Ruggie is caught off guard by your sudden transformation, but he’s adaptable. He scoops you up into his arms with a quick grin.

“Hey, hey, don’t go melting all over the place! I’ve got things to do, y’know?” Ruggie jokes lightly. But his tone softens when he sees your distress. “But I guess those can wait. C’mere, I’ll help you get back on your feet—or whatever you have when you’re not slime.”

Jack Howl:

Jack is momentarily stunned when you melt in his arms. His first reaction is to try to lift you back up, but, well, you’re slime, so that doesn’t quite work out.

He huffs, blushing a little. “Just… take your time. You don’t need to worry about anything. I’ve got you, okay?” Jack's protective nature shines through, his arms gently wrapped around what solid parts of you remain.

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul, ever the strategist, watches you melt with wide eyes, calculating all the ways to “fix” the situation. However, when you start to sob, his business-like demeanor cracks.

“Ah… There, there,” he says, awkwardly patting your head as you slime down his pristine suit. “I assure you, we can handle this… strategically. No need to cry.” Despite his words, Azul’s genuine concern for you is obvious as he holds you.

Floyd Leech:

Floyd thinks your slime form is hilarious. The second you start to melt, he bursts out laughing.

“Whoa! Shrimpy, you're all gooey now!” Floyd teases, poking at your slimy form. But when he sees you crying, his mood shifts in an instant. “Aww, don’t be sad, Shrimpy. I like this version of you, too!”

He wraps himself around you, squeezing you tightly—slime and all.

Jade Leech:

Jade is intrigued by your stress-induced slime form. While he finds it fascinating, he’s also quick to comfort you when you start crying.

“Quite an interesting phenomenon,” Jade muses, wiping away your slimy tears with a handkerchief. “But please, don’t distress yourself. There’s no need for that. I’m right here.” His gentle voice soothes you as he helps you reform.

Kalim Al-Asim:

Kalim is both shocked and amused when you start melting in his arms, but he quickly recovers, hugging you tightly.

“Oh no! You’re turning into slime! Is there something I can do? Wait, I know—let’s throw a ‘Feel Better’ party!” Kalim’s enthusiasm is infectious, but he holds onto you as you cry, offering endless reassurances.

Jamil Viper:

Jamil tries to remain composed when you melt into his arms, though he’s secretly panicking on the inside.

“I suppose this is a normal reaction to stress for you?” he says calmly, even though he’s not sure what to do. He strokes your hair (or, well, slime), patiently waiting for you to calm down. “You don’t need to worry. I’ll help you through this.”

Vil Schoenheit:

Vil’s immediate reaction to your slime form is a mixture of shock and mild horror—at first, he’s concerned about you, but also a bit put out by the mess.

“My robes…” he sighs, but his voice softens as he holds you, tears and slime alike. “You’re allowed to cry. But I refuse to let you stay in this state of disarray.”

He brushes the slime from your face and helps you regain composure, all while managing to maintain his usual grace.

Rook Hunt:

Rook is enchanted by your unique form. The second you melt into his arms, he’s already waxing poetic.

“Ah, mon cher! Even in your most vulnerable state, you are truly magnificent!” Rook exclaims, holding you tenderly. “Worry not, I will be your steadfast support, slime or not.”

Epel Felmier:

Epel is confused when you start to melt, but his protective instincts kick in fast.

“Whoa, whoa! Hang on there!” Epel says, panicking slightly as he tries to keep you together. “You don’t have to be all stressed out around me. Just breathe, alright?”

His attempts to soothe you are clumsy but genuine, and he won’t leave your side until you’re back to your usual self.

Idia Shroud:

Idia’s first instinct is to panic. You’re melting? This is definitely not something he can handle without freaking out.

“Oh no… oh no… this is bad,” he mutters, but when he sees your tears, he stops. “Uh, hey, don’t cry! I mean, sure, you’re all gooey, but… you’re still cool.”

Idia awkwardly pats your head, unsure of how to handle the situation but doing his best to comfort you.

Ortho Shroud:

Ortho doesn’t panic like his brother. Instead, he’s immediately analyzing the situation with his scanners.

“Are you alright?” Ortho asks, his voice full of genuine concern. “Don’t worry, I can help you! Maybe a temperature adjustment will help stabilize your form?” He hovers near, ready to assist however he can.

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus finds your slime form fascinating, though he’s more concerned about your well-being. When you melt into his arms, he cradles you gently.

“There, there, child of man,” Malleus murmurs softly, his voice like a calm lullaby. His powerful arms hold you securely as your slime tears drip onto his cloak. “You need not fret. I will ensure your safety, no matter your form.”

His dragon-like gaze watches you intently, the smallest smile forming at the corners of his lips as your sobs quiet. "Even in your most... fluid state, you are still precious to me."

Lilia Vanrouge:

Lilia finds your slime form to be amusing, but he’s quick to adapt. When you start melting in his arms, he lets out a cheerful laugh.

“Ah, how adorable! Don’t worry, my dear. I’ve seen stranger things in my time.” He pats your head reassuringly, not fazed at all by the situation. “Cry all you need to. I’ll be here when you’re ready to solidify again.”

Lilia hums an old fae lullaby while he holds you, and his mischievous side takes a backseat as he comforts you through the tears.

Silver:

Silver blinks slowly when you start to melt in front of him, but instead of panicking, he gently wraps his arms around your slumping form, not minding the slime at all.

“Hey,” he says softly, his voice steady and calm, “it’s okay. I’m here.” His hand moves to stroke your slime-morphed head with gentle care, his touch soothing despite your current state.

“I don’t know exactly how to help,” he admits, “but I’ll stay with you until you feel better.” He pulls you closer, letting you rest in his lap while he hums softly, his presence grounding you. “You don’t have to hold it all in. I’ll keep watch.”

His quiet, reassuring demeanor slowly makes you feel more at ease. He may not say much, but the safety you feel with him speaks volumes.

Sebek Zigvolt:

Sebek is utterly baffled when you start to melt into slime in his arms. For a moment, he just freezes, wide-eyed, trying to process what’s happening. Then he bursts out, “WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE YOUNG MASTER—!!”

His voice is loud, but as he sees the tears in your slimy state, his tone shifts—just a little. “H-Human! Cease this display at once! You cannot fall apart like this!” But even as he says that, he’s awkwardly attempting to gather your melted form without dropping any of it, his hands trembling slightly.

His frustration shows, but underneath it, he’s worried. “I—! Ugh, fine! Stay like this if you must! Just know I... I shall remain by your side, no matter what form you take! So, compose yourself, human!”

His stubborn loyalty shines through, and despite the bluster, you can tell he’s genuinely concerned. It’s a chaotic kind of support, but it’s Sebek, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Rollo Flamme:

Rollo is startled and somewhat appalled by your sudden transformation into slime, but he masks his discomfort with a dignified air.

"This... is highly irregular," he mutters, though his hands remain gentle as they hold you. "But I suppose even someone like you has their moments of weakness."

Despite his words, there's a hint of warmth in his actions, and he stays by your side until you're feeling better, his cold demeanor melting just a bit.

Neige LeBlanche:

Neige’s reaction is pure concern when you start to melt. He immediately wraps his arms around you, holding you close despite the slime.

“Oh no, are you okay?” Neige asks, worry etched across his face. “Don’t cry, please! You’re still beautiful, no matter what!”

His words are sincere, and he strokes your back soothingly as you sob, not caring one bit about the slime soaking into his clothes.

Najma Viper:

Najma is quick to comfort you when you start melting in her presence. She’s a bit surprised but reacts with ease.

“Whoa, that’s a neat trick! But hey, no need to cry, okay?” Najma smiles gently, holding you close. “You’re safe with me. We’ll figure this out.”

She’s calm and reassuring, her warmth helping you regain your composure faster than you thought possible.

Dire Crowley:

Crowley dramatically flails his arms when you start melting into slime, completely unprepared for this turn of events.

“Oh dear heavens, my precious student! What calamity has befallen you?” He panics, trying to scoop up your gooey form in a very uncoordinated manner. “No need to cry! Your benevolent headmaster will, um, fix this! Somehow!”

He’s more focused on not getting slime on his fancy coat than actually helping, but he makes a grand show of being concerned, which is as close to comfort as you’re going to get from him.

Divus Crewel:

Crewel’s eyes widen, but he quickly regains his composure.

“Well, this is... unexpected,” he says, eyeing the slime dripping onto his pristine coat. “But emotions, pup, are not something to be ashamed of. Even if they do involve... melting.”

He carefully wipes the slime from his hands, his tone softening. “You’ll pull yourself together soon. We’ll make sure of it. And once you do, we’ll work on controlling that stress—there’s no excuse for letting your emotions ruin your wardrobe.”

He pats your head in a surprisingly gentle manner, his usual sternness fading in the face of your distress.

Mozus Trein:

Trein, with Lucius perched on his shoulder, looks down at you as you begin to melt into a puddle of slime.

“Hmm,” he muses thoughtfully. “This is not something you see every day, but it’s nothing to worry about.”

He crouches down, his expression surprisingly calm. “When one is overwhelmed, their emotions can manifest in unusual ways. It’s important to take a moment and breathe.” He offers a hand, which Lucius bats at. “Compose yourself. You’ll recover, just as we all do from difficult moments.”

It’s unexpectedly wise advice, and his steady presence helps you feel grounded again.

Ashton Vargas:

Vargas is completely caught off guard by your sudden transformation into slime. He stares at you in disbelief before quickly scooping you up with a burst of energy.

“Whoa! That’s some serious stress! But don’t worry, we’ll get you back into shape in no time!” he says, flexing a bicep as if that will somehow solve your problems.

He awkwardly pats your gooey form, his optimism unshaken. “This just means you’ve got some inner strength waiting to burst out! Once you pull yourself together, we’re doing a killer workout to blow off all that steam, okay?”

It’s hard to stay upset with his over-the-top enthusiasm, even in your slime state.

Sam:

Sam chuckles when you start melting, entirely unfazed.

“Well, now, ain’t that something,” he says, leaning on the counter of his shop. “You must be feelin’ all sorts of stress, huh? No worries, I’ve seen worse.”

He grabs a cloth and gently wipes your slime tears. “Why don’t you take a seat, and I’ll brew up something that’ll help you feel right as rain? Stress is just like a storm—it’ll pass, and you’ll be stronger for it.”

His easygoing nature and the comforting atmosphere of his shop start to calm you down almost immediately. It’s impossible not to feel better in his presence.

Masterlist

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popponn · 11 months ago

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idk if you accept requests but i badly want to read the blue lock boys with the orange peel theory going around on tiktok 🥹

notes: anon, i was in a slump and then you come with this, please know i cant get it out of my mine for 2 whole nights. so, please have this, i hope u will enjoy it & your fave is there. also shoutout to @doobea for helping me with rin & barou esp <3 aso for standing my yappings. warning: none, post canon au in mind, reader's gender unspecified.

character: isagi, kaiser, bachira, chigiri, nagi, reo, rin, sae, barou + bonus

isagi

sweet boy will do it with a smile. is not the tidiest but you can now eat your orange while sharing with him. has a vibe that he is sort of used to doing this somehow. a total win still. if you do the same for him he will get flustered. also asking this is one of the quickest ways to get mr. egoist switches to mr. sweetheart boyfriend.

“Eh, why are peeling one too? I already… for me…?…I, uh—I see. Thanks… I—I am… give me a second.”

kaiser

you are the one who will peel for him—unless you throw a fuss and give him a silent treatment because this guy's pride is no joke. he can, he just doesn't want to. but to appease you and gain back his rightful spoiling, he will. afterward, at least, he learns his lesson and when you are about to peel one yourself, will take it and peel it beautifully for you like a second nature.

“…the fuck are you staring at? Just take it. You are about to eat it anyway, right? Then what's the big deal?”

bachira

yes, he will no question asked but is it worth it. probably will make a mess out of his energy. you will be laughing along with him somehow though so it is worth it. having the sunshine doing anything in front of you is a guaranteed smile-inducing routine. as for the orange, please do switch to other alternatives, for example: kisses, as suggested by him.

“Isn't this better than orange? Huum, huum! More healthy, sweeter too, right? Another one?”

chigiri

depending on his mood, you will either get a very cute orange peel or a half-peeled orange (at best) you have to finish peeling yourself. on the former, you get a smug bf who will feed you like it's a pocky stick. on the latter, you better be the one feeding him while hugging and cuddling him. multitask somehow. also, give him kisses because he is called a ‘princess’ for a reason.

“Ah, being in your arms being fed like this… yeah, yeah. I know don't worry. I will repay the favor.”

nagi

realistically, you will be the one peeling it for him and forcing him to eat one. because why would he even touch one? he is too lazy for that, nothing personal. but, let's say he really, really loves you: he still won't, he will just give you orange-flavored jelly in replacement. it does come from a place of love though, he genuinely thinks it's less troublesome to eat and, hence: better.

“Eating that is troublesome. It taste the same too. We can also do it while kissing. Mouth to mouth. Better right?”

reo

normally, will get a servant to peel it for you and him. though: can he do it? will he do it if it must be him? no question asked, absolutely will, all while chatting and staring at you with so much love. totally mr. k-drama male lead. you and your premium orange are in good hands.

“Oh, man, you are sometimes really …huh? Nah, I mean, I like doing this. It's just now I feel like I have to do this every time, so… yeah.”

rin

the first time, he will click his tongue and mess up. he will crush the orange. better never speak of it again, just know he loves you wholly despite everything. then a week passes and suddenly you will get a professional competitive orange peeler part-timer. without asking. just eat your orange. unless you are sick of it or it makes you actually sick.

“Did the orange taste good? … good. Nothing. You just look… nevermind. Do you want another one?”

sae

will he or will you. realistically, no? there are two possible reasons: 1) he can't. his whole stat is in soccer. 2) “you can't?” aka is it worth it getting judged by him. in case #2 though, just act cute and aim for his soft spot for you, he will fold and peel it with you pressed to his arm. he will grumble or glare but that's just itoshi-esque tsundere.

“You can't do something like this yourself? This will be the only time I’m doing this… Also who told you to move away?”

barou

our king. will peel the skin and the white fiber for you. tidy peels and if you know your way around his heart—you do just smile or blink and he is gone—he will also feed you. 10/10 execution no notes. probably will do this in kotatsu, dinner tables, and other domestic settings that are not bed while being a tsundere.

“I’m doing this just so you don't make a mess, got it? Also, scoot closer, your leg is kicking me—what do you mean I’m lying?!”

bonus

kunigami will, both before and after wc because you are his world. the difference would be in his expression only and there is that because his love for you would never change. shidou will but genuinely, please just peel it yourself. aiku will, not without teasing you though. gagamaru will either will or teach you how to eat the skin too. zantetsu wants to do it, but it will be really messy so please just don't. hiori will do it like a sweet boy, but if he is in his sadistic mood he will tease you for a bit before finally feeding you.

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unknownati · 26 days ago

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Hello! I hope you're doing well :3

Can I get something about Ekko (headcanons, short scenario... you choose the format) with a s/o with chronic migraines? I absolutely love how you write him!! And it would be very special for me, considering that this topic is not talked about enough.

Thank you so much for your contribution to the fandom! ily byee

vi. ekko x gn!reader w/chronic migraines (hcs)

a/n: twin. I GOTCHU 😭🤝 and tysm!

i'm sorry if this isn't up to your expectations, i tried to do extra research on it (i was on r/migraine and like 3 different medical sites for a WHILE.) to make sure i repped u the best i could! please lmk if there's any inaccuracies :(

from what i read, most people's experiences were pretty similar so i tried to keep it in that middle ground.

warnings/tags: fluffy fluffy fluff, lowercase intended, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader, descriptions of pain, reader gets insecure at the end (w/ comfort!), just ekko taking care of u like the gentleman he is really, i need this man

_____________________________________________

-ekko didn't quite know how to handle it when you first started getting close.

-you could tell he cared, constantly glancing over at you with worried eyes every time you rubbed your temples and took deep breaths. his hand would rest on your shoulder, and even though you brushed it off, he knew it sucked.

-you somehow managed to keep it pretty low-key until you two started dating.

-the first time he really got a glimpse into it was during a baaad week after you started dating.

-"doin' okay?" he'd murmur, kneeling down next to your duvet shielded figure. all you do is groan, sticking your hand out to find his, interlocking fingers with him.

"yeah, i guessed. brought you some meds, maybe it'll help make you feel a bit better."

he knew he was doing something right when you squeezed his hand and whispered "thank you."

it was the most grateful he's ever heard anyone sound for anything.

and even though those pain meds didn't do the best job in the world, it's the thought that counts!

-afterward, he started with peeking to see what meds you take, constantly keeping them restocked for you. he thinks you don't know he's the one sneaking them into your bag, your cabinet, on your nightstand, etc. you know. there's only one person in your life who you know would leave spray paint stains on the little bottles.

-he'd make sure to keep areas he knows you mainly hung around much dimmer. buys you blackout curtains and figures out how to make controlled light bulbs for you that can be dimmer or brighter as you needed.

-he carries a shocking amount of stuff on him. boom, canteen of water! boom, snacks! boom, painkillers! woah, what's that? ICE PACK! check behind your ears? holy shit it's a heating pad.

-one thing though; as much as he cares for you, he won't baby you. he knows just how capable you are of doing things...he will, however, give you major royal treatment. you will be getting that shoulder massage 🙏🏾

-during days where your migraines are less brutal, he just keeps an eye out for you. makes sure stay hydrated and well fed.

-he does your chores for you during those extended periods, tearing his gloves off to stick his hands into your pile of dishes and clean them up for you. when you shuffle downstairs later in the day to put a cup in there, you find a small little note in front of your now cleared sink.

'hope i could lighten your load (get it) ♡ - e'

-and it was such a stupid joke that almost didn't make sense but you'd be lying if you said you didn't smile wide as fuck when you read it.

-during the extended periods of your migraine attacks, when you're just in bed, he brings you literally anything and everything.

-when you wake up from a nap you can almost always find him cuddled close to you, drool pooling into your pillow.

-and he does not mind leaving where you are just for you to go get some peace and quiet.

-it hits you like a train when you're out with him and a few of his friends. the stinging, pulsing cluster of pain forming behind your eye made you groan. "fuck, baby 'm sorry my head is just...killing me."

"hey guys, we're gonna head out, okay?"

"what? no, you don't have to leave, i can just—"

he flashes you what is the most loving glare you've ever seen and just gets up, ushering you along with him. silence fills the walk back between the lanes, gravel and wrappers crunching beneath your boots.

"i'm sorry." you murmur, smoothing your fingers across the arch of your brow. the way he looks at you when the words leave your mouth made you think he was offended by them.

"why are you apologizing?"

"i just...don't want you to always have to stop enjoying yourself just for me."

"nah, don't say that. it doesn't bother me. plus, it means i get to go home and chill out with you more often, i'm fine with that."

"yeah, but what if i'm just too much? what if you get sick of...doing all this?"

he scoffs, pulling his glove off and stopping you from walking so he can raise your chin, looking at you with eyes so determined but so gentle. his thumb swipes between your brows, making you relax them. "you're never gonna be too much for me. and i won't. ever."

-and trust me.

-he doesn't.

#ekko x you #arcane ekko #ekko arcane #ekko x reader #ekko #arcane x you #arcane x reader #arcane x reader fluff #arcane fluff #ekko fluff

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anantaru · 1 year ago

Text

DAY 24 — BRAT TAMING

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — kazuha, alhaitham

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, brat taming, they're mean lmao, petnames used: love, smart girl, oral (male! receiving), cockwarming

𖧡 — KAZUHA

coruscating with a hot prickle underneath your cheeks and your arousal oozing out of you, kazuha wastes no time before he pulls your mouth back into his lower area with your lips open wide to receive his pulsating cock again— more so feel it stick and melt to your tongue so sinfully as you drag the roughness of your wet muscle against the underside of his dick, tickling the buzzing veins.

"i— ah, hardly notice anything," kazuha admits bluntly and chuckles as his fingers comp over the back of your head, "you need to try harder, i fear," what a distinguished way your boyfriend had with words, which, in any other case he does but not now, not when he was attempting to teach you a lesson.

and you reach in between his thighs at his blatant sentence, to properly take his balls in your warm palm— giving him two good squeezes as he instantly swallows back a groan at the harsh treatment you added onto him, being aware that he was exceptionally sensitive right there.

well, granted, this entire ordeal was placed on you for a reason— because sometimes you just cannot help yourself but be a little, mean brat to your handsome boyfriend, until his habitual and subdued personality gets spiked up with a dangerous notion affiliated with lust, desire, and the clear thought of putting you in your place.

"maybe if you, fuck— wouldn't have been so mean, my love," kazuha pauses, roughly curving his palms against your cheeks so he could softly brush his thumbs over the skin, breathing out a whispery moan when he could feel himself shallowly slip in and out of your hot mouth, "i wouldn't have to use such words on you."

you whine in attempt to spell out a witty comeback but are only being crowded with his fat tip grazing over the back of your throat— you hiccup and babble, perceiving him entirely, his slightly bitter taste penetrating your nostrils as your body grew to smell like his luscious fragrance.

kazuha shifts in his seat a little before pushing his hips up your flexed throat to catch you off guard— yet, little does he realize at last, when he fucks your throat and uses your mouth as he pleases, with your saliva and his pre dribbling all over your chin and his boxers, that in reality, you will never stop engaging in this sort of play and be all about the drama, so perfect when you act like a little brat, so kazuha could use your mouth again, no need to urge you on for anything when you're practically salivating at the taste of his salty cum on your tongue.

𖧡 — ALHAITHAM

"don't flatter yourself too much, i'm not even fully hard yet,"

whenever you were acting out— attempting to push and pull against alhaitham's usual stoic and unbothered demeanor, you are most likely defeated right away, yet do not be mistaken because, the moment you do achieve to, quote on quote, step onto the wrong tile, he almost needs to profess the power he held over you.

you take a sharp intake of air before exhaling it out with a tremble the moment he first sinks into you— although much to your surprise, he wouldn't move, he wouldn't even kiss you, only focusing on your sizzling hole swallowing him in like a wet suction pulling on his shaft.

"hey!" you whine, before slipping your hands around his neck so you could kiss him yourself, only to be met with alhaitham quickly turning his head so you'd clumsily hit his ear instead, "w-what's up with you?"

it's in a juncture like this where everything suddenly comes crashing down on your complete frame and holds you hostage against your will, the split second you can remember it in a spur of a moment, vividly, when you were oh so graciously disturbing his peace earlier, just because you felt like it.

"i'm not moving tonight," he proclaims, a little aloof and standoffish but holding your gaze with unapproachable eyes before he repeatedly slaps the plush flesh of your ass, making you squeak out.

"you do it yourself," alhaitham wasn't really interested in a heart-wrecking apology from you, truthfully, he had already planned out and structured how this night would end, obviously in his favor because you cannot beat him— he stops when you're begging him, full of brimming tears, to make you please please cum because you just cannot hold it in anymore!

"i can't," you attempt to move your hips but are being met with one large hand pinning you back down the mattress.

alhaitham was torturing you, that's what it was, at least in your eyes, and you dig into his scalp and ruffle his hair, aiming to make him kiss you again (and failing) before scraping your nails around his ears, where he was a little sensitive, yet not even that worked out so you ultimately go down to his neck— your lips curved up into a sweet and apologetic pout, hoping he'd show mercy tonight.

"okay, i'm sorry, i went to far, i'm sorry sorry sorry.." you mewl out in a frantic exhale, the heaviness of his throbbing erection melting within your walls was maddening, and it hurt, a mild pain battering your pulsing cunt as your pussy flutters greedily around his girth, wishing to chance his mind.

alhaitham noticed how you were glistening all over his dick, he feels how your cunt squeezes him experimentally too, but it's more than just wanting you to please him tonight and make it about him, which in actuality, the scribe didn't give a single damn about his pleasure— but it's about obedience, just how it's found in dogs following their owner, and instead of using words, he uses his thick cock stretching you out until you're whining and loosing all of your witty responses, both of you fusing and becoming one.

but that agonizingly sizzling tension in between your squished bodies, ugh, it was surrounding you, your soul and mind, it was beginning to simply steal your breath away.

"but you're such a smart girl, right? always having a comeback to everything, so try harder."

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #kazuha x reader #kazuha smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #al haitham x reader #al haitham smut #genshin impact drabbles #genshin drabbles #kinktober #alhaitham x you #heizou x you

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nanaslutt · 1 year ago

Note

Hi ur work is fucking amazing I love u imagine gojo having to pull away readers head bc he doesn’t want to cum too fast :p

OH MY GOD????? nonnie this made me light headed ur brain is braining

i love YOU tysm for this<3

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀: fem reader, use of ‘baby’ and ‘princess’, size kink i couldn’t help myself, dirty talk as always, satoru is absolutely whipped, sweet!gojo, throat fucking, hair pulling, mentions of face sitting at the end :p

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

“you sure u wanna suck it pretty? i’m kinda big.” gojo caresses your the side of your face with a large palm, using his other to give himself slow strokes

you nuzzle your cheek into his palm, looking up at him through your lashes from your place on the floor

“yeah, wanna make you feel good toru, i can take it, promise” you pout up at him, reaching both of your hands up to replace his in stroking his cock

he twitches when you make contact with his flushed dick, your hands barely wrapping all the way around him, “don’t gotta tell me princess, i know you can take it.” he sits on the edge of the bed, one hand on your scalp, the other behind him stabilizing himself, “always take me in ur pretty pussy so well.” he pets your hair softly

you cant lie that looking at him up close like this, seeing the sheer size of his cock compared to your hands is a little intimidating, but you’re nothing if not determined

you lean forward, making eye contact with him now as you stick out your tongue and kitten lick the pre from his tip

he inhaled sharply, hissing on the exhale as you take his tip into your mouth and draw circles on it with your tongue

“mouth ‘s so fucking warm, godd,” he bites his lip, keeping eye contact with you as his grip on your hair tightens

pulling back from his tip you let a glob of spit on him, lubricating the rest of his cock with it while you go back to sucking on his tip,

“you wanna try taking it a little deeper? hmm?how’s that sound princess?” he asks you, feeling good with your current technique but growing a little antsy to feel how your throat constricts his cock

you pull back and nod, still stroking his dick “uh huh, want it” you answer

taking a few deep breaths to ease your nerves before taking him back into your mouth

squeezing your thighs together and letting out little moans around him as you struggle to fit his thick cock inside your mouth,

“yeaahhh, doin so fucking good, keep goin” he encourages you, his thighs twitching every time your moans send vibrations around him

your mouth hurts from the size of him but his reactions are keeping you going strong, bobbing your head back and forth going deeper and deeper every time,

gagging around him when he goes a little bit too deep, “‘s it ok if i help you princess? makin me feel so good but i wanna go a little deeper, that ok?”

“mmhmm,” you nod on his dick making his abs clench at the intense vibration, “you spoil me baby,” he smiles before standing up and taking gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail,

“tap my thigh if you can’t take it,” you barely have time to register his words before he thrusts his hips to the hilt, balls pressed against your chin and he hold you there for a couple beats,

“yeaaahhh this is what i wanted, god stop squeezin ur throat baby,” he laughs before using the strong hold he has to bob you back and forth, “gonna make me cum too soon”

you squeeze your thighs together, his rough treatment on your throat making you feel a lot better than you imagined

continuing to fuck your face, jaw dropping as he lets out profanities, “good- fucking- girl- yesyesyes- take it, fuck!!” he groans with a smile

staring down at you, spit strings and tears covering your face and he’s looking at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen, having to close his eyes because your pretty messy face combined with how good your sucking his cock is just too much for him to handle

gaining a little brainpower back you hum around him, simultaneously rotating your tongue in circles around his cock to the best of your ability, it might’ve worked a little too well as he abruptly yanked your head back, holding you back from him while he quicky grabs the base of his dick with his free hand and squeezes 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝

his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as his breath stutters, short moans leaving him as he tries to concentrate on not embarrassing himself and cumming all over your face so soon

you look up at him after your small coughing fit, slightly confused why he pulled you away so harshly, worried you might’ve hurt him

“fffuuuck” he laughs as his eyes roll back into place from the back of his head and he smiles down at you, “holy fuck baby,” he takes a deep breath before easing his grip on his cock,

“where’d you learn how to suck dick this good huh? almost made me embarrass myself,” he lets you wrap your hands around his cock again, keeping his hold on your hair still, more just guiding you now, “felt that good?” you ask, leaving kisses on his pelvis while you stroked him

“so good baby, make me feel like a virgin.” you giggle, “but i want you to cum for me toru, that’s why i’m doin this,” you move from leaving kisses on his pelvis to kissing his the underside of his cock, all the way to his angry tip

“yeah? wanna give it another go then? already got me this close just by kissin it.” he bites his lip while giving you his signature cocky smirk

you don’t respond, opting to just take him into your mouth, using your hands and mouth together to bring him as much pleasure as possible

moaning around him, drawing circles on his tip, rotating and stroking your hands in time with your bobbing head, he repeatedly bites his lip and jerks forward,

“here is comes princess, you ready? gonna take it all in ur throat for me?” gunna swallow it all, right?” he’s babbling, his grip returning on your hair, wishing he would’ve sat back down as his thighs burn trying to keep himself upright

hips starting to meet your head halfway and you’re moaning, trying to talk around his cock wanting to tell him you’re gonna take it all, how you want him to fill you up, mark your throat as his and the coil snaps

hes hunching over you, gasps and whimpers of your name and little “baby, baby, oh my god”s falling from his lips as he fills your mouth with his cum

swallowing it all as quick as it comes and rubbing your thighs together hearing him sound so vulnerable

when he finally comes down from his high he’s panting so hard, he groans as he pulls his cock back, dripping with your spit and his thick cum away from your warm mouth, “you swallow it all baby?” and you stick out your tongue with a cute little “ahhhh” sound, smiling as you do so

“you’re too good to me princess, love you so much, did such a good job,” he’s caressing your face, spilling out praises, “now cmere n clean me up so i can have you ride my face n feel you squirt all over me.”

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lasciviouspoison · 2 years ago

Text

writing this while 🍃. tw: girl reader, written for black women, reader is chubby, etc etc. not proof read, too high nd horny 4 that. luv u.

firefighter!eren loves his job!! he loves saving lives and being there for the public. even if he gets a call for a damn cat being stuck up a tree, he truly loved his job.

firefighter!eren loves you so so much more tho!! comes home everyday all sleepy from a hard days work, but brightens up immediately upon seeing your pretty face. sitting on the couch in that pretty baby pink slip he bought you the previous week. glasses sliding down your nose with your head buried in a book. he can see a light outline of your pudge from under the pretty garment and his mouth waters.

firefighter!eren loves seeing your eyes perk up upon seeing him :((( loves seeing his pretty girl concerned for him with soot all on his face. simply says, “fire whooped my ass today sweetheart”, slight smirk on his pretty face.

firefighter!eren who feels so loved on when he gets out of the shower, only for you to force him to sit on the toilet as you give his skin a good cleanse and moisturizing treatment. you rub his face with all kinds of oils and creams, and how could you possibly forget about taking care of his hair too?! you put some of your conditioning creams and solutions in his hair, it’s to “keep it from drying out rennie baby”, as you always say. he couldn’t care less, all he needed to care about was ur fingers in his hair.

firefighter!eren who says thank you by fucking you relentlessly on the bed. your legs are pushed up on his shoulders and his pretty face is right in front of yours. you can feel his breath hitting your nose, each exhale matches almost perfectly with his deep strokes. they make you feel like you’re loosing your breath, only hanging on by listening to his praises.

firefighter!eren who calls you a “pretty girl” repeatedly while gripping your cheeks. puts his fingers into your mouth and licks your tongue once u stick it out. who giggles whenever you whimper and tells you that he does so well at work so he can come home and receive the perfect award; your pussy. who spits in your mouth and forces your legs back open after he cums in you. gets down to eye level and gives your pussy the sweetest of kisses. it’s so good you swear you can feel his tongue in your throat.

firefighter!eren who runs you a sweet lavender bath, washes you up, lotions you as you did for him a few moments ago. he tucks you into the newly changed sheets and kisses your forehead. “g’night my sweet girl.” is all you hear before finally resting with your lover.

#eren #eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren x chubby reader #eren smut #eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren x y/n #eren fluff #eren jeager smut #eren aot #eren x black reader #eren x black y/n

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4linos · 2 months ago

Text

—[lee know links] ≽^•༚• ྀི≼ mdni.

warnings: porn

lee know who sneaks you into the room that music core prepares for him during promotions so that you can help him relieve some stress.

after a day of giving him the silent treatment, lee know asks you to tell him why you’re upset you admit that you were jealous because he’d been too friendly with the waitress the night before so he shows you that you’re the only one he wants.

lee know plays with your pussy on the way to drop you off at the airport for a business trip.

when lee know finds out that your ex had been texting you and asking to see you he sends this video to your ex to remind him that you’re taken.

lee know who’s extra clingy and sweet when he knows you won’t be able to see each other for some time.

(nini's notes) 103024!

good morning, lee know links! I’ve been excited about this one 😆 i hope you’re all having a good day! only 3 more members left, i’m not too sure what’s after this if i’m being honest 😢 would part 2 for each member be a good idea? anyway thank you for sticking around! here’s another poll to decide who the next member links should be for..

asks are always open if you have a question, concern, or request!

-🎀

#stray kids smut #skz links #stray kids links #stray kids hard thoughts #skz smut #twt links #skz spicy links #x links #stray kids x you #lee know links #lee know hard hours #lee know hard thoughts #lee know smut

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m1ckeyb3rry · 3 months ago

Text

Series Synopsis: A series of (mostly) unrelated one shots, featuring Oliver Aiku somehow getting involved with the love lives of various Blue Lock characters — whether he wants to or not.

Chapter Synopsis: Oliver Aiku isn’t sure which entity he’s wronged to earn this kind of treatment, but somehow, in the days before the match against Blue Lock, he’s stuck watching over the team’s newest addition: Sae Itoshi, a rude midfielder who’d rather be in Spain (or in hell) than hanging out with him. Things get a little more complicated, though, when a cup of shitty coffee leads to a crush and Aiku is forced to intervene.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Sae x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 7.9k

Content Warnings: crack fic, sae my awkward goat, love at first sight, oliver aiku is such a bitch but he’s funny so it’s kind of okay, reader has to work in customer service 😓, this is really dumb please don’t judge my writing off of it, sae is 100% ooc don’t come at me i KNOWWW, split perspectives (it makes sense in the story), sae slander (from aiku), reader is a fan girl but she keeps it 𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖙, reader’s dad has cameos but he’s just chilling tbh

A/N: the people wanted sae’s version to be posted first so uhhh here we are!! LMAO it kind of got a bit long (as usual) but it’s very silly and goofy!! anyways so this is the first entry in “oliver aiku’s guide to getting girls” i hope you all stick around for the rest 🤩‼️

Oliver Aiku likes to think he’s a fairly nice guy. He visits his grandmother every weekend, he rescues kittens from gutters (okay, it only happened once, but he still did it, so it counts), and he’s good enough at being captain of the Japanese U-20s that none of his teammates really hate him, so all in all, he can’t be doing that bad of a job. Yeah, he’s pretty sure he’s a great person, a stand-up fellow, an upstanding member of society — so why the fuck is Sae Itoshi glaring at him like that?

“What?” he says, because it was fine for the first, say, twenty minutes or so, but now it’s gone from annoying to just plain concerning. “Something going on with you?”

Sae stares at him for a moment longer, and Aiku wonders if he’s trying to communicate via telepathy. That’s a skill he’s never picked up, though, so he can only wait for Sae to speak up, which, thankfully, he eventually does.

“This coffee is shit,” he says. The way he speaks is dull and blank, his lips pinched together and his brows low over his eyes. It’s kind of a shame, in Aiku’s highly professional opinion. He’d be handsome if he smiled more; or, if not handsome, at least approachable enough to not scare away every single girl that dared to even glance at him.

“It’s not my fault,” Aiku says. “Take it up with the barista or something.”

“You’re the one who brought me here, so it is your fault,” Sae says. Aiku crosses his arms, because isn’t Sae younger than him? This feels like a level of disrespect he shouldn’t tolerate, prodigy or not.

“Nuh-uh,” he says. In hindsight, it’s not the most mature response he could’ve come up with, and Sae seems to agree, snorting derisively before using a napkin to dab at a drip of coffee running down the side of his cup.

“What a captain,” he says with a sigh. “No wonder you guys need me to play for you against those Blue Lock idiots.”

Aiku should be offended, he really should be — and he is! He is, and he’s just about to muster up some scathing retort that’ll definitely leave Sae Itoshi trembling, but then Sae’s standing up with purpose, so now he’s just intrigued instead of insulted. He follows after him as Sae holds the coffee in one hand and marches towards the counter, and when he realizes what’s about to happen, he preemptively cringes.

“Don’t yell at service workers!” Aiku says. It would’ve been heroic if he had said it loud enough for Sae to hear him, but unfortunately, it’s more of a whisper than the brave shout he had intended for it to be, so he just looks kind of stupid, as if he regularly talks to himself or something.

“Hey,” Sae says to the boy at the counter. He’s young, probably no more than fifteen or sixteen, and Aiku prays that he’s not the target of Sae’s ire. “Who made this?”

The boy squints at Sae’s cup, reading the receipt, and then he smiles innocently. “That was Y/N. Did you want to talk to her?”

“Yes,” Sae says bluntly. Aiku is about to thank whichever deity was watching over him and that boy alike, but he pauses when the rest of the kid’s statement registers. Her? Her? Is Sae seriously about to yell at a girl for making bad coffee? If she’s hot, he’ll kill Sae, no doubt about it. “And tell her to make it quick. We don’t have all day, and she’s already wasted enough of our time.”

Yeah, he’s definitely going to kill him.

“Y/N,” a voice whispers. You’re untying your apron — your shift is just about over, and you’re ready to clock out, but for some reason your young coworker is peering into the kitchen nervously and gesturing for you to come with him. Normally, you’d tell him to handle things himself, but he’s new, so you decide to be responsible for once and follow after him, muttering curses to yourself as you retie your apron.

“What’s the matter? Did you spill something?” you say. He shakes his head, raising his hand and pointing at the counter, where two customers are waiting. You frown, because you’re pretty sure you already gave them their drinks, so there’s no reason for them to be standing there, unless maybe they want to reorder. “Wait. Did you call me to take their order? No way! My shift is over in thirty seconds!”

“No, no, I didn’t,” your coworker says. “They want to talk to you.”

“Me? Like me, specifically?” you say. He nods.

“Yeah, they asked for you by name and everything,” he says earnestly. “I think they’re mad, though.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, because the last thing you want to do is deal with a couple of prissy customers, especially not when you’re supposed to be heading home already. However, your coworker seems to be on the verge of tears, and some kind of sisterly affection tugs at your heartstrings, so you pat him on the shoulder and take his spot at the counter.

“Hi, this is Y/N. My coworker told me you needed to see me. How can I help you?” you say. Your voice is chipper and your smile is false, but they don’t need to know that. You’ve been working at the coffee shop for long enough that you’re practiced at pretending, and you know for a fact that your coworker is standing shyly at your side, probably astonished by the quality of your performance.

For a moment, neither man speaks, so you get to stare at them and make your own assumptions about who they are and what their backstories might be. It’s kind of like a hobby, a pastime for when things are slow or you’re generally annoyed about your job. You’ve developed it over the years, and luckily, these two are prime candidates for the game.

The one on the left is tall and broad, with dark hair and mysterious eyes. Curiously, one is a bright green, while the other is a softer violet, and there’s a few-days-old stubble growing on his square face, like a shadow running along his jaw. It gives him a rough appearance, like he owns a motorcycle and frequently wears leather jackets, but you want to believe that he’s gentle at heart. Maybe he has a fondness for baby animals or he likes to bake cookies or something along those lines.

The one on the right is shorter than his counterpart, and his hair is red like a sunset, pushed carelessly out of his haughty face. He’s wearing a sweater that matches his eyes, though the teal of the knitted fabric is much more muted, and you’re about to come up with some kind of fantastical explanation for who he might be when you realize that you know him.

He clears his throat, and you scramble to stand up straighter, internally screaming, because what are the odds that you’ve somehow managed to piss off the star player of your favorite soccer club’s youth team? You wonder what your father will think of you now. You wonder what you think of yourself now. What should you do? Should you tell him you recognize him? Ask for an autograph? Or should you play it cool and pretend like you don’t know him? What if he yells at you?

Actually, you wouldn’t mind it as much as normally do. When everyday customers start screaming at you for some perceived wrong that you’ve supposedly committed, you typically tune them out, and then you make fun of them with your coworkers in the back, but if it’s Sae Itoshi…well. you’ll certainly listen to every word he says, and when you return to the kitchen, you’ll write them down somewhere so you can remember the moment forever.

“He didn’t like his drink,” he says, pointing at the dark haired man.

“What?” the man shrieks. The pitch is higher than you would’ve expected from someone of his size, but it appears he realizes that, too, because then he’s coughing. “I mean, what? What are you talking about?”

“You were just complaining, Aiku,” Sae says. “You even made me come up here and get mad at this girl for you.”

The other man, who you guess is named Aiku, is turning a strange shade between magenta and beet-red, and you’re surprised there isn’t steam coming out of his ears. Given that you don’t really care about him that much, you’re instantly irritated again, because why would it matter if he didn’t like his drink? Still, you have to keep up appearances.

“My apologies, sir. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” you say.

“No!” Aiku says. “No, it’s — hey, Sae, you were the one who was all upset, so why are you putting it on me?”

“Hm?” Sae says, obviously uninterested in the conversation already. “I dunno. Maybe it happened like that, or maybe not.”

“I’m sorry,” you say again, more than a little bewildered. “Ah, I’m new here, so I’m still learning.”

Aiku, who has returned to a more normal and human color, smiles at you kindly, and he’s about to respond, ostensibly to reassure you, but then your damned coworker pipes up: “No, she’s not.”

“Ah, sorry?” Aiku says.

“She’s not new,” your coworker says again.

“‘New’ is a subjective term,” you say mechanically, wishing that it was acceptable for you to turn around and hit him in public whenever you wanted.

“I don’t think anyone would consider you to be new when you’ve been working here for three years,” your coworker says. You can imagine the innocent, guileless expression on his face right now. You want to do something violent to it.

“Ha, ha,” you say. You think your eye might twitch, too, but if Aiku or Sae notice, then neither of them point it out. “What a knowledgeable fellow we have back here.”

“It’s alright,” Aiku says. “I didn’t mind the drink. Sae’s the one who threw a fit about it.”

“I liked it,” Sae says stubbornly. “It was fine.”

You step in before Aiku can turn magenta again, because that’s probably unhealthy for him, and you don’t want to be held liable for a customer dying on your watch when you’re not even being paid for it.

“Anyways, is that all? I’m actually done with my shift, so if you guys don’t need anything else…” you trail off, though inside you’re screaming something along the lines of Sae Itoshi, please notice me and give me your autograph and oh, if you could fall in love with me, too, that would be amazing!

Of course, you can’t verbalize anything like that, so you just smile and wave until the door slams shut behind them. Then you’re yanking your apron off and balling it up before chucking it at your coworker’s face. It hits him in the nose and slides to the ground; he gives you an offended look before picking it up.

“You’re lucky it was only an apron,” you say. “You owe me big time, you little shit.”

“Huh?” he says.

“I won’t forget this!” you warn him, stomping towards the small locker room, where your precious phone is waiting for you. “You’re a major-league jerk, okay? Don’t ever ask me to cover another shift for you again!”

“Huh?”

“What the hell was that?” Aiku snaps as soon as they’ve left the cafe, because this is totally not what he was expecting when his coach told him that he had to treat Sae nicely and make him feel welcome.

“What was what?” Sae says. He’s sipping on his coffee sedately now, even though he was complaining about it only minutes earlier.

“Since when was I the one who was upset about my coffee?” Aiku says.

“I have a bad memory,” Sae deadpans. “I guess it could’ve been either of us.”

“That was not believable in the slightest,” Aiku feels the need to inform him. Judging by Sae’s expression, it wasn’t meant to be believable, though, and Aiku sighs. “Seriously, what’s your deal? You were just going crazy and glaring at me because you thought the coffee sucked, and now you think it’s good?”

“I should’ve waited for it to cool,” Sae says. “It’s better now. I was being hasty.”

“Uh-huh,” Aiku says. “Sure. Let’s do something else tomorrow. I don’t ever want to go back there. I don’t think I can face that girl again. She was so hot, too, and now she probably thinks I’m some ungrateful asshole…”

“I want to go back,” Sae says immediately, throwing the now-empty cup into the nearest trash can. Aiku furrows his brow at him, trying to puzzle out this latest contradiction and finding himself utterly unable to. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Aiku repeats dubiously. Tomorrow he has practice, and technically so does Sae. However, they both know that Sae doesn’t need anything as ridiculous as practice in order to win against a team of eleven high-school forwards, and he’s fairly confident that his coach will tell him to accompany the bratty Itoshi instead of showing up, since the JFU is pulling out all of the stops if it means getting Sae to stay in Japan for good.

“Tomorrow,” Sae reaffirms.

I’m a nice guy, Aiku tries to remind himself. This is what nice guys do. I’m boosting team morale. Yeah. That’s all. Captain’s duties.

Still, as he chases after Sae, who apparently doesn’t know what the word ‘stroll’ means and prefers to do everything at a brisk pace more akin to a jog, he thinks that this entire ridiculous assignment feels more like a babysitter’s duties than anything.

“Are you serious?” your father says. In the background, the TV is playing a game between Re Al and Barcha, which is rather fitting.

“Deadly,” you say, untying the laces of your sneakers and putting them with the rest of your shoes. “It was actually him.”

“Sae Itoshi,” he says, shaking his head. “He’s back from Spain?”

“Seems like it,” you say, though now that he mentions it, you’re as confused as he is. Why is Sae Itoshi here instead of Madrid? You glance at the TV — Barcha has just scored, and the cameras are sweeping through the crowds, showing the excited fans cheering — and wonder if maybe he was fired or something. You doubt that that’s what happened; after all, he’s a consistent player, and the last time he was in a match, he even managed to outmaneuver that freaky striker who plays for Bastard München, so it would make zero sense for Re Al to let him go. Besides, even if they did, you’re sure there’s dozens of clubs that would be willing to take him, so there must be another reason for his presence in Japan.

“Huh,” your father says. “Well. Good for him.”

“I guess so,” you say. “If I ever see him again, I’ll ask him what he’s doing in town.”

Your father chuckles, taking a sip of his beer and giving you a thumbs up. “Yeah, you do that. Let me know what he says.”

You laugh, too, sitting down at the counter and eating a plate of reheated leftovers, because you know as well as your father that the idea of you ever seeing Sae Itoshi again is more than a little far-fetched. But it’s a nice thought, and anyways the chances are never zero, so for the moment, you allow yourself to imagine.

Aiku is seriously questioning if Sae Itoshi was sent to this earth — or at least to this country — as some kind of punishment for him. He’s not really sure what’s done that would invite such cosmic retribution, but maybe it’s one of those…what did that girl call them? Karmic debts? She had said something about the sins of his past life and all, though he can’t recall the specifics.

Wait. That’s wrong. He just never learnt them in the first place, so how could he remember them in the first place? He had broken up with her before she could explain her theories to him. This prompts a wince from him, which is further fueled by the way his t-shirt sticks to his back with sweat. It’s a distinctively uncomfortable feeling, and he’s contemplating complaining, even though it probably won’t do much.

“Shut up,” Sae says.

“I didn’t say anything!” Aiku protests, more than a little spooked, since he actually had been about to say something before Sae had cut him off.

“I can see you making faces at me,” Sae says. Considering Sae is walking ahead of him and to the side, Aiku’s not quite sure how he could tell anything about what sorts of faces Aiku is making, but unfortunately, he’s uncannily correct as always, so Aiku schools his expression into a smooth, neutral one that won’t beget reprimand from his companion.

“I can’t believe you insisted on going here straight after practice,” he says.

“This is the same time we went yesterday,” Sae says. He’s kind of an insufferable smart-ass, Aiku thinks to himself, though he’d never say as much to Sae’s face. After all, unlike his counterpart, he’s considerate like that, and he always has been.

“So? We didn’t have practice yesterday,” Aiku says. “You couldn’t even let me shower?”

“You take forever in the showers,” Sae says. This is rich, for Sae is notoriously obsessive with his skincare, and of the entire team, he takes far and away the longest to get ready. But, then again, Aiku supposes that idiocy is one of those illnesses which spreads further and further until all of one’s perspectives are tainted with the virus.

“I could’ve been quick,” he says. “It would’ve been better if I could’ve at least rinsed off so I didn’t look so gross. I want to impress that Y/N girl if she’s there again today.”

“You’re not her type,” Sae says dismissively. “So why bother?”

“How do you know? Are the two of you childhood buddies or something?” Aiku says. Sae glances at him, and of course he’s way too holier-than-thou to properly sneer, but the corners of his lips turn downwards to the same effect.

“Not too hard to figure out,” he says.

“Well, hold on just a moment! I got the vibe that she was totally into me yesterday!” Aiku says. He actually did not get any such vibes from the barista; the only thing she seemed into was clocking out, but he’s Oliver Aiku. If he can’t get a girl, he can’t do anything. Besides, it’s not like Sae would be able to tell one way or another — Aiku and his teammate Sendou have a theory that Sae was created in a lab as some kind of experiment to make the world’s best midfielder, because the guy really doesn’t have any knowledge or concern for anything that’s unrelated to soccer.

True to form, Sae blinks unsurely. “Really?”

“Yeah, one hundred percent,” Aiku boasts, although then he’s narrowing his eyes, because such a question is so out of Sae’s character that for a moment, he wonders if there’s been a mistake and he’s actually taken some other team member of his along for this ridiculous errand.

Messy red hair. Teal eyes. Forehead creased with a frown. No, it’s definitely Sae Itoshi, that’s for sure. Just Sae Itoshi in a mood that he’s never seen before. If they were a little closer, he’d ask him what’s the big deal now, but as it is, the question would probably go unappreciated.

“Hm,” Sae says. “Whatever. We’ll see.”

“Sure,” Aiku says slowly, reaching out to hold open the door of the cafe so he can enter behind Sae, since his lovely, amazing, wonderful, kindhearted teammate so generously left it to slam shut in his face.

What a total dick. He makes a mental note to ask the JFU for a raise, because whatever they’re giving him at the moment is definitely not enough.

“They’re back again!” your coworker says. You’re still mad at him for yesterday, so you’ve been giving him the silent treatment the entire shift. It hasn’t gone unnoticed, but his pitiful attempts at reconciliation never include an apology, so you haven’t budged yet.

He waits for you to respond, but you’re pretty sure he’s making stuff up to get you to pay attention to him, and anyways they could be in reference to anyone, so you continue to pour milk into a cup, acting like it’s an all-consuming task which you cannot possibly complete without the utmost of concentration.

“I’m being serious! Y/N, it’s Sae Itoshi and, uh, that other dude!” he says. Your hand wobbles for the briefest moment, but you conclude that he’s most likely lying, so you steady yourself and continue pouring the milk. “Fine, be that way! I’ll serve them myself!”

You can’t even say something snarky in response, because that’ll still be a win on his part, so you huff particularly loudly to no one in particular and leave it at that.

A few minutes later, he’s back, looking so contrite that if you weren’t upset with him, you’d actually be worried. Unfortunately, you very much are upset with him, so you find it on the whole to be rather hilarious and have to suppress a laugh.

He must take your amusement as a signal to talk, because he speaks eagerly and quickly, stumbling over his words and clasping his hands together in front of him.

“Y/N, Y/N, they’re insisting on seeing you, I told them you’re working right now — I’m sorry, I’m not supposed to do that, right? But I did, and now they really want to see you!” he says.

You’re still not entirely convinced, but if this is an act, then it’s a dedicated one, and you don’t think that he possesses that much dedication in all of his body, so maybe he’s actually telling the truth.

“Fine,” you say. “But if you’re lying, I swear I’m telling our manager to fire you.”

“I’m not!” he squeaks, darting back to the counter, rocking back and forth on his heels as he waits for you to catch up to him.

When you reach the front, you’re surprised to see that it is in fact Sae Itoshi and…whoever that other guy is. Aiku? Yes, that sounds right. It’s Sae and Aiku, and one looks supremely inconvenienced — this would be Sae, of course — while his friend is running a hand through his sweaty hair, flashing you a grin.

You smile back at him, because that’s what you’re trained to do, and you don’t want your coworker to tattle to your manager that you’re not abiding by the cafe’s standards of customer service. Then you stare at them until one of them starts speaking, because that’s what your entire job is, and no matter how badly you want to start gushing to Sae Itoshi about how big of a fan you are, you have to remain professional.

“Is there anything I can do for you two?” you finally say. This prompts Aiku to nod, nudging Sae in the side, which earns him a dark glare.

“I want the number two, and he’ll take the number five,” Aiku says when Sae does not speak up. You want to tell him that nobody orders like that, but you’re not supposed to and it’s really not that big of a deal either way, so you just ring up the order.

“Sounds good. Would you like to pay with cash or credit?” you say.

“Credit,” Sae says, pulling out a card that probably has a monthly spending limit higher than what you make in a year. “And we’re splitting the bill, just so you know.”

What you want to say is Wow, Sae, you’re somehow even cooler in real-life! Who’s your favorite soccer player? What’s your favorite food? Do you like Spain better, or here? What you actually say is: “No problem. I’ll have those right out for you.”

“Thanks,” Aiku says. He’s kind of charming, in a sense; you can think of several friends you have that would probably swoon at the way his smile stretches across his face, but you don’t really see the appeal. Or, maybe you would normally, but at the moment, he’s standing next to Sae Itoshi, so it’s a little hard to focus on him at all.

“Yeah,” Sae says. “Thank you. Y/N.”

He’s probably just reading off of your name tag in an effort to seem more friendly and relatable and humble and all. It’s a classic PR move that he was probably taught as soon as he joined Re Al. You know about it, though, so it shouldn’t work on you. It won’t work on you. He’s just doing what he’s trained to, the same as you are.

It works on you. You run to the back and hide your face in your hands and squeal, because Sae fucking Itoshi just said your name.

“Holy fucking shit,” Aiku says.

“Are we just listing curse words now?” Sae says dryly. “Bitch, cunt, hell. There’s three more for you.”

“You like the barista!” Aiku accuses. If Sae was drinking something, he would’ve spit it out just then, but he’s not, so he just chokes on his saliva.

“No way,” he says.

“Yes, you do! How else can you explain this?” Aiku says, pitching his voice up in an imitation of Sae’s. “Yeah. Thank you. Y/N. Since when do you say thank you to people?”

“Since always? I have manners,” Sae says.

“I’ve never heard you say it,” Aiku says.

“Maybe that’s more telling about you than me,” Sae suggests. Aiku scowls at him.

“You definitely like her,” he says. “No judgment here, man. She’s pretty.”

“Whatever,” Sae says. “Even if I did like her — mind you, I don’t — she’s clearly into you.”

“Me?” Aiku says. “I was just messing with you earlier, you know. Anyways, yeah, I think she’s hot, but, like, you’ve never liked a girl before, right? So I wouldn’t get in the way of that. This is a big step.”

“You’re not getting in the way of anything. Do what you want,” Sae says.

Aiku’s already pulling out his phone and texting Sendou: big news. Lab experiment just evolved. Feels attraction and jealousy now.

“Uh-huh,” he responds absentmindedly. Sendou texts back with about fifty mind-blown emojis, and he snickers to himself, liking the message.

“Anyways, who told you I’ve never liked anyone before?” Sae says defensively. Aiku just about drops his phone, leaning forwards in interest. Could it be? Are he and Sae actually bonding? Is Sae about to tell him about his first love — who apparently is not this barista?

“I just guessed. Was I wrong?” Aiku says. He’s already trying to come up with who Sae might’ve liked — a childhood neighbor or friend? A women’s soccer player he admired? A girl he saw once in Spain but never again? Oh, that last one is particularly romantic…he’s just about accepted it as fact when Sae glares at him.

“No,” he says. Aiku’s dreams are shattered in an instant, but he can only shake his head while chuckling, both because Sae has inadvertently admitted that he actually does like that Y/N girl, and because he was an idiot for believing that ‘Sae Itoshi’ and ‘romantic’ could ever belong together in one sentence.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“What do I do?” you say. You and your coworker are back on speaking terms, mostly because you have no one else to talk to and are so desperate that you’re willing to temporarily forgive him.

“Make their drinks?” he says. You give him a dirty look as you begin mixing up their orders.

“Not about that. I’m such a huge fan of Sae’s, and this is the second time I’m making a drink for him. It’s kind of like fate, don’t you think? Should I try to talk to him or something?” you say.

“Do you want to?” your coworker says. It’s a slower time of day, so he has nothing to do but sit and watch you — at least, nothing immediate. There’s certainly things he could be doing, but you’re not about to chide him when you’re the reason he’s slacking off.

“Obviously! But what am I supposed to even say? I’ll sound like a creep if I just start acting like a fan-girl!” you say.

“That’s true,” your coworker says. “You kind of sound like one even now…”

“Ugh, if you’re not going to be helpful, then go organize the storeroom or something!”

“What about her makes you like her?” Aiku presses.

“Are we still on this?” Sae says, as if they’ve been talking about it for hours. “I don’t like her.”

“It’s not like you talked to her for a while…was it really just her looks?” Aiku says. “Damn. Didn’t think you were the shallow type.”

“I am not the shallow type!” Sae says.

“That sounds like something that a shallow person would say,” Aiku teases.

“Shut up,” Sae says. Aiku doesn’t have enough fingers or toes to count how many times Sae’s said that particular phrase to him. Maybe if he counted all of the fingers and all of the toes of every single person in the world, he would get kind of close to what that number might be. “I’m not shallow, I don’t like her, and she’s obviously way more interested in talking to you than me, so get off my back.”

Aiku whistles. “Someone’s jealous.”

“I’m telling the JFU that you were the one who sent me back to Spain,” Sae informs him bluntly. Aiku isn’t sure if that’s a joke or a legitimate threat. It’s hard to tell with Sae sometimes.

“Are you serious?” Aiku says.

“Deadly,” Sae says.

Yep, Aiku decides. He’s serious.

“If only that Aiku dude wasn’t there,” you lament, setting the first drink in the pick-up area and calling out Aiku’s name before returning to finish Sae’s drink. “It’d be way easier to talk to Sae without someone there to judge everything I’m saying.”

“Do you think he’d even care?” your coworker says. You shrug.

“No idea. It’s intimidating to talk to guys around their friends, though. You’re a guy yourself, so you wouldn’t get it,” you say.

“Are they even friends?” your coworker says. “Doesn’t seem like they get along that well.”

In unison, the two of you turn so you can look at the duo, who are sitting at a table right within your line of sight. As your coworker said, they don’t look like they’re friends in the slightest. Aiku is sipping on his drink with a smirk, and Sae looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, doing anything else, than be sitting there with his not-friend.

“The point still stands,” you say.

“Guess so,” your coworker says. Just then, Sae Itoshi happens to glance over, making direct eye contact with you. Your eyebrows raise, and your face warms as you realize you’ve been caught. Aiku turns to follow Sae’s line of sight as you weigh your options. Should you pretend like you weren’t doing anything? Should you wave?

You decide to just smile again before returning to the drink you were supposed to be working on. Your coworker, who saw the entire exchange, cannot stop laughing.

“It’s over for you,” he says. “He definitely thinks you’re a creepy fan-girl now. You can kiss that autograph goodbye.”

“You’re lucky I’m too lazy to remake this drink,” you say. “Because otherwise, I’d spill it on you.”

“That’s against company policy,” he says.

“By accident, of course,” you say with a malicious grin.

“That’s against company policy, too!”

“Look, she just smiled at you. I bet she was looking at you the entire time,” Sae says coolly. “You should ask for her number. You already said you think she’s beautiful.”

“I said she’s hot. I’m not all poetic and shit like that,” Aiku says. “And I wouldn’t do that. It’s against the bro code.”

“We’re not ‘bros’, so you can put that out of your head,” Sae says.

“What if I help you get her number?” Aiku says. Sae tries very hard to maintain his nonchalant look, but Aiku can tell that his curiosity has been piqued. “Will you consider me a bro then? At the minimum, will you tell the JFU that I’ve done a great job at showing you around and making you feel welcome?”

Please please please please please I really need a fucking raise Sae I’m broke please please please —

“Sure,” Sae says.

“Sure?” Aiku says. “Yes! Okay, this will be easy.”

Sae scoffs. “Yeah, okay. If that’s what you think.”

“Believe me,” Aiku says. “You’re in the presence of a master.”

Sae doesn’t even dignify that with a response beyond the most disgusted look Aiku has ever seen on anyone, Sae or not. He’d say something, but he’s pretty sure he deserves it at least a little, and anyways a possible raise is way more important to him than being right, so he keeps his mouth shut, simply giving Sae a double-thumbs-up. He’s going to ace this new assignment, and then maybe he’ll actually be paid what he’s worth instead of pennies on the dime.

You’re about to call out Sae’s name when you realize that for some reason, both Aiku and Sae are standing there and waiting for you. You furrow your brow, because it’s both a menacing and a comical sight — the hulking Aiku, who looks like he’s about to go punch a criminal on television before flipping his hair and telling the ladies that there’s enough of him to go around, and the slender Sae Itoshi, who you can’t imagine doing anything but slamming a winning pass to one of his teammates, invariably leading to a soccer ball in his opponent’s net.

“Uh, hello,” you say.

“Hello,” Aiku says.

“Hi,” Sae says.

“I have your drink,” you say to Sae.

“I know,” he says, taking it from your hand. Of course — why else would they be here? They must’ve seen you finishing up the drink and rightly assumed that it was theirs.

“Right,” you say. Neither of them go to leave, and now you wonder if they just don’t understand social cues or something like that. “Did you guys want to order something else? My coworker would be happy to take you at the counter.”

“No,” Sae says.

“Okay,” you say slowly. “Well, I hope you enjoy your drinks.”

“We will,” Sae says with the utmost of confidence. Aiku groans and then thumps him on the back. You have a feeling you probably don’t want to know what the significance of the gesture is, but then you realize that this is probably the only chance you’ll get to have a proper conversation with Sae Itoshi, so you shove your concerns aside.

“Wait! If it doesn’t bother you too much, can I ask you a question?” you say. It’s an incredibly awkward way of going about it, but given how awkward this entire interaction has been, you don’t think it’s a huge deal.

“Go ahead,” Aiku says. You weren’t asking him, but you guess the permission covers them both, so you square your shoulders and face Sae Itoshi, who seems entirely confused that you’re looking at him instead of Aiku. You’re not sure why he would be, since between the two of them he’s the celebrity, but maybe there’s some weird dynamic going on that you’re unaware of.

It doesn’t matter to you, though. You only have one thing to ask. You’ll never cross paths with Sae again, will you? So it’s fine. You can act a little embarrassing, and anyways, you barely make above minimum wage, so if your manager gets too upset and fires you for ‘unprofessional conduct’ or something, it won’t be a huge loss. It’ll be worth it, even, considering this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance and your coworker is busy reorganizing the storeroom like you told him to, so he’s not around to spy on you and report back to your stodgy old manager.

Taking a deep breath, you open your mouth and begin to speak.

Aiku hadn’t dared to even dream of the possibility that the barista might already like Sae, too. Why would she? Sae had just been all weird and rude to her in the couple of times that they had spoken, so all in all she’d have to be somewhat of a masochist, or a Re Al fan (which was essentially the same thing, given the losing streak that Re Al had been on for the last month or so), to be into him. But sometimes miracles did happen and baristas were masochists, because the girl was turning to Sae with shimmering eyes and a hopeful expression and it was all going to go so well—

“What are you even doing in Japan in the first place?”

Did he hear her right? Sae is bewildered as well, but Y/N isn’t acting like she’s just asked the most ridiculous question she could’ve possibly asked. What is Sae doing in Japan? Well, he happens to be a citizen of the nation, so there’s one explanation…Aiku wants to facepalm, because now his plans have been ruined and Sae’s confidence has probably been crushed.

“Pardon?” Sae says. Aiku had told him not to act so cranky and old-man-ish when he approaches the girl, but honestly, at this point, there’s no helping him, so he doesn’t even bother with a correction.

“Why are you in Japan?” she says again, all bright and innocent and cheery. It somehow feels like she’s been faking things so far, and that this is the real her, which she’s been holding back up until this point. Aiku isn’t so sure if that’s a good thing; privately, he believes it would’ve been better if she kept holding back just a little bit longer. Long enough for her to reject Sae — who still claims he’s not into her and is just trying to ‘be friendly’, as if friendliness is something he’s well known for — and then move on with her day.

“My passport expired?” Sae says, phrasing it more like a question. “So I had to come back and get it renewed?”

His voice ticks up at the end of every sentence unsurely. It’s almost cute, like he’s a little baby chick. Aiku’s fond of chicks, so he decides he’ll step in. Just this once.

“He’s visiting from Spain to play for the Japanese U-20 team in an upcoming exhibition match,” he explains.

“Oh, wow,” she says. “But I thought you said you would rather give up on soccer or play with German college kids than ever play soccer for Japan?”

Aiku raises an eyebrow. He wasn’t aware of such sentiments, and though he’s not exactly shocked, he can’t help feeling a bit miffed. When he glances over at Sae, there’s not a trace of remorse on his face, and so he wrinkles his nose.

Forget the raise and the baby-chick-esque mannerisms alike. He’s done helping this ungrateful, no-good, lame-as-hell, girl-repelling loser for free. If Sae wants any further assistance, he’ll have to beg for it.

“How did you know I said that?” Sae says. You clap your hand over your mouth when you realize you’ve exposed yourself.

“I, um, I was just guessing!” you say.

“Guessing?” he repeats. You swear, because that’s actually a worse explanation than the original one, and then you hang your head, because if the cat’s out of the bag, then there’s no way you can put it back in.

“It’s a quote from one of your interviews,” you mumble.

“What?” It’s Aiku, who immediately frowns when he realizes he’s butted in. Sae gives him an odd look out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m a big fan of yours,” you say. “The last game you played in, when you stole the ball from that Bastard München striker, was amazing! To tell you the truth, I’ve been trying to figure out why you’re in the area instead of back in Madrid. It’s a little unbelievable, you see.”

“Ah,” Sae says, and for some reason he looks uncomfortable. “Well. Yeah. It was just the issues with my passport and all. I decided to play for the U-20s because I was offered a good deal, but it’s right back to Madrid for me after that.”

“That makes sense,” you say. It’s awkward again, but in a different way. You don’t know what to say. You don’t think he does either. His drink is probably cold now, and you’re surprised that Aiku’s eyes aren’t stuck in the back of his head, given how frequently he’s been rolling them. “Can I have your autograph?”

“No,” Sae says immediately. You’re a little taken aback, and to be honest, he looks kind of horrified himself, but you know better than to nag, so you only nod at him.

“No worries—” you begin before you’re cut off by a grumbling Aiku.

“He’ll give you his number instead. Here,” Aiku says, listing off a series of digits too rapidly for you to remember. “He’ll write it down, for you, right, Sae?”

And then, to your utter disbelief, Sae Itoshi is pulling out a pen and a piece of paper from who knows where, and he’s humming in agreement.

“Right,” he says, and then he’s handing you a note with his phone number written on it in neat print and his signature in flowing cursive. “You can call me later. If you want. Y/N.”

The way he speaks is stilted and low, but you don’t mind it. Tucking the piece of paper into your apron pocket, you beam at him.

“Alright,” you say. “I’ll call you. I still have more things to ask you, so it’s good that you gave me this.”

“Yes,” Sae says. “Yes, you can do that if you’d like.”

Then he and Aiku are leaving the coffee shop, their drinks in hand, and you’re standing there in awe, wondering if that actually just happened or if it was nothing but a particularly vivid flight of fancy.

If it’s the latter, then you almost hope it’s one you don’t ever escape from.

“You’re welcome,” Aiku says as they leave the cafe.

“I didn’t say thank you, you lukewarm oaf,” Sae says. Aiku shrugs. He’s hard to ruffle, after all. It’s the reason why he stepped in and rescued Sae from that little mistake of his. He just couldn’t bear the thought of his dear junior losing the girl of his dreams because of a slip of his tongue, even if aforementioned junior is the insufferable smart-ass type.

Well, the thought of the money he’ll make if Sae speaks of him highly to the JFU doesn’t hurt, either, but that’s less altruistic, so he prefers to stick to the first explanation.

“I bet you feel it, though,” Aiku says.

“Shut up,” Sae says.

It’s a good thing babies are born every minute. Otherwise, given how frequently Sae says that particular phrase, Aiku really might run out of things to count on.

You’ve typed the number on the piece of paper into your phone, and now you’re staring at it blankly, wondering if you should press the green call button. What if it was a prank? What if it wasn’t? Because then you’ll have to actually talk to Sae Itoshi, and you’re not so sure you can do that.

In a fit of inspiration, you slam your index finger against your screen and hold your phone up to your ear. It rings a couple of times, each subsequent one worsening the pit in your stomach, but then it stops ringing entirely, which can only mean one thing: Sae, if this really is his number, has answered.

“Hello?” you say.

“Hello?” he responds. “Y/N?”

“Yes!” you say. “It’s me. Y/N. Like you said.”

“Cool,” he says. “It’s Sae. Which I guess you knew, since you called me.”

“The confirmation was nice,” you say, internally sighing in relief. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he says. It’s mannerly but also a little sarcastic, albeit not in a mean way. You don’t mind it much. “You said you had to ask me some things?”

The two of you spend the next few minutes in a setting kind of like an interview, in that you drill him with questions and he answers them all patiently. He’s kind about it, humoring you even though he doesn’t have to, and he never threatens to hang up, which you do appreciate.

“Would you mind if I ask a question, too?” he says when you’ve taken a break to drink some water.

“Go ahead! Although I’m not as interesting as you are,” you say.

“I think you’re probably way more interesting,” he admits. “Anyways. Are you free next weekend?”

“Uh, I think I have a shift on Saturday, but to be honest, my coworker owes me, so he can cover it. Why?” you say.

“The exhibition game that I’m playing with the U-20s for. You should come watch,” he says.

“Oh! Sure, where should I get tickets? I’d have gotten them already if I knew you were playing,” you say.

“I’m allowed to invite someone,” he says. “Friends or family. So I’m inviting you.”

“Don’t you have actual friends that you can invite?” you say before gasping. “Sorry! Sorry, that was super insensitive and rude of me. Of course I’m honored to come, I’m just confused about why I’m the one you’re inviting. Me. I’ve literally made coffee for you twice, and that’s about it.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” he says before pausing. “Um, look, Aiku told me to say this, so if it’s uncomfortable, then blame him…but I think you’re, er, beautiful?”

Your mind short-circuits. “Huh?”

“I don’t know! He’s the one who has experience, I’m just taking his advice!” Sae says, his tone souring immediately afterwards. “Trust me, it’s not like I want to. There’s many things I’d rather do than follow Oliver Aiku’s advice, but at the moment, it’s the best I can do.”

“Beautiful,” you repeat. It’s such an elegant adjective. You’ve been called pretty before, and there’s been a fair share of guys who have considered you to be hot, but beautiful…it’s nice. It’s really nice.

“Yeah,” Sae finally says. “Basically.”

“I’ll be there,” you say. There’s something like a scream bubbling in your throat, but you fight it back, knowing that it’s of the utmost importance that you maintain a relaxed demeanor.

“Great,” Sae says. “See you.”

“See you,” you say, and then you hang up before he can say anything further, because you’re already on the verge of combustion and you don’t think you can handle anything more.

Throwing your phone across the room, you give in and scream. There’s thundering footsteps, and then your father is throwing the door to your bedroom open, whipping his head around wildly.

“Is everything alright? Why are you screaming?” he says, heaving for breath, probably because he just sprinted from his spot on the couch to your bedroom in record time.

“Sae Itoshi!” you say.

“Yes?” he says, the rate of his inhales and exhales lowering as he realizes there’s no active threat to your life or property. “What about him?”

“He told me I’m beautiful and invited me to watch his game next weekend,” you say, knowing that this is going to make your father — a fellow Re Al fan — freak out.

You wait, counting down as he processes the news, unable to contain your exuberant grin, knowing exactly what’s coming. Three, two, one—

“What?”

#sae x reader #sae x y/n #sae x you #itoshi sae #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #modern au #oliver aiku’s guide to getting girls #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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almostempty · 2 months ago

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dieter's party (dieter x f!reader)

Dieter’s party (dieter bravo x f!reader) | wc: 3k | other fics

summary: after fighting with your bf and reluctantly attending a party, you find yourself complaining to the host who offers to let you sleep off your emotional hangover headache in the pool house. when your boyfriend finally shows up, it’s a welcome surprise and you accept his apology in the form of sex. but, when you wake up in the morning you’re faced with another surprise.

note: this is my other version of the accidental adultery trope, only it’s the involuntary cheating/wrong bed trope bc that’s what i thought the prompt was originally! other version is here with stalker!frankie. (this is like a month late for the actual challenge but time is an illusion idc; it’s for u bb @auteurdelabre)

warnings/tags: explicit mdni, smut, this IS noncon– but it’s not dark vibes (like how the wrong bed trope in media is somehow played off as a ~hehe whoops~ ???), infidelity/cheating, oral sex, piv, prone bone, drugs mentioned at the party but reader and dieter are sober, boyfriend frankie, again, i repeat, this is noncon- but they’re not real and also they’re into it, REAL LOOSEY GOOSEY flimsy plot pls don’t poke at it there are already enough holes to drain ur pasta, kind of ooc dieter tbh

standard warnings for me at this point: unprotected sex with no consequences bc it’s fiction; f!reader is able-bodied otherwise, no specific descriptions; no y/n, likely many mistakes aka no beta and limited editing on this bish

You sit sideways on the lounge chair, digging your toes into the sand and massaging your temples. The voices from the party behind you are easier to tune out as you look out over the water. The adrenaline rush of your anger has passed, and now you’re just left with a throbbing headache.

It’s not a bad view. But you resent it anyway. You’ve been abandoned by your friend who dragged you to the party in the first place. She’d assured you that it would be low key, just some people on mushrooms having a bonfire on a private beach. The names and the drugs didn’t sell you on it, but the free night at a fancy beach house was appealing

You didn’t know anyone else, and she’d assured you she’d stick with you until your boyfriend showed up. But so far nothing had gone to plan. The cute little beach house is actually more like a mansion. There is technically a fire on the beach and people on some kind of hallucinogenics, but there’s also a party by the pool, and rooms filled with people on the main floor of the house.

Your friend folded immediately–swooped up by the hot production assistant that told her about the party. You weren’t keen to follow them as they disappeared in search of a quieter room in the house to play tonsil hockey.

You don’t really blame her. Your boyfriend was supposed to be meeting you anyway. Or, at least, he was before you’d got in another argument before he went to work. You’re miserable when the two of you are on bad terms.

Frankie and you are both stubborn and can dig your heels in over the smallest arguments. Currently, you don’t actually know if he’s giving you the silent treatment or if he’s just working late. Either way, you figure you’re allowed to be a little pathetic over the situation.

Yet, you can’t even slink off to have your moody moment watching the waves and the stars. Someone is walking up behind you causing you to sigh. Stiffening, you turn to address none other than the life of the party himself, Dieter Bravo.

He’s undeniably nice to look at, but you’re still moping. Emotionally hungover and irritable. And stuck at loaded jagoff’s party full of nobody you particularly want to get to know.

“Party is that way,” you point past him towards the pool surrounded by drunk people with shiny white veneers and ugly jewelry. He’s unfazed by your snark and sits down next to you.

“Thought you could use some company.” His voice is low and sexy in a stupid movie star way that makes you roll your eyes.

“That’s not even a clever line,” you chastise him.

He flashes a grin at you that makes it hard to keep up the glum aura.

Whatever they say about actors looking better in person rather than on camera is true, and even more so when they’re sitting so close you can smell their expensive cologne. He’s dressed more casually than the rest of the party, but you wonder if it’s part of the quiet luxury mystique with the four hundred dollar t-shirts or if you’re overestimating his net worth.

Dieter likes a challenge. The more you try to shut him down, the more he turns on the charm and flirts with you brazenly. You aren’t immune. He’s fucking hot, and that builds up your ego. You figure it’s harmless to flirt. You’re busy complaining about the social climbers in attendance and how they must be inflating the ego of whichever rich asshole is throwing the party, when he cuts you off.

“And which one are you? Social climber or rich asshole?” He asks, squinting at you like he’s going to take a guess. You play into it, making a few exaggerated model poses–framing your face with your hands and batting your lashes–for him to base his decision off of.

He grins at you with a dazzling smile that makes you break character and laugh. But he doesn’t laugh with you. He just keeps his eyes on you, his sparkling dark brown eyes. Suddenly the moment feels charged, you didn’t realize you were so close, face to face.

“Time’s up,” you say, “I’m neither.” But he’s looking at your lips now and you’re hyper aware of your heart beating faster. Until his hand slips onto your knee and you balk, turning away with a sharp inhale to recenter yourself.

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” you give him a glare and he frowns briefly.

“Like that’s real,” he scoffs and turns to watch his pseudo-girlfriend flirting with someone by the pool whose hair gel shines under the string lights.

“Oh.” You didn’t realize. “Sorry.”

For a moment, there’s a vulnerability between the two of you that draws you in, wondering what’s behind the curtain with Dieter. His hand, still resting on your knee, squeezes you slightly, and you snap out of his spell. “Well, my boyfriend most certainly is real,” you say. “Unless he doesn’t show up tonight,” you mutter, “then maybe he won’t be much longer.”

Dieter hesitates as if he might have something to add, but you grimace. You don’t want to answer any follow-up questions. He’s too close for you to think clearly. You stand, brushing off his hand, and give him a smile. “I’m going to do a lap. Maybe find my friend or my boyfriend before the sun comes up,” you sigh and give him a final look before you walk back towards the house.

Eventually, Dieter follows.

You go through the motions, introducing yourself to people, laughing along with whoever you find yourself standing next to, and always staying aware of Dieter’s presence. You avoid his path as the two of you mingle and socialize with different clusters of people. But you keep finding yourself catching his eye in every room you enter.

You weave through the house, pilfering some snacks and avoiding anyone’s attempts to talk one on one. You catch a glimpse of your friend, still entangled with her work crush, and continue on your path.

The later it gets, the less tolerance you have for the other partygoers. You find yourself back on the chair on the beach. Alternating between staring at your phone, debating composing a text to Frankie, and watching the waves break along the shore.

It’s not long before your suitor returns, joining you on the lounge chair again. Just as close, if not closer, than earlier in the evening.

“No luck?” he asks.

“Avoiding you?” you quip, and he shakes his head.

“Finding your friends.”

“Friend or boyfriend,” you emphasize for both of your sake, but he only smiles in return. “What about you? No luck with… whatever your goal was?” you ask.

He sighs deeply at that. “There’s no goal. I’m just the host.”

“Oh,” you blink. “I didn’t know this was your…thing,” you wave your hand towards the party.

“Would you have treated me differently if you knew?”

“Worse, maybe?” you laugh genuinely. “I’ve got a few complaints to lodge. Too many people, too loud, nobody is any fun,” you list them off on your fingers, “honestly–”

“Why are you here?” he cuts you off.

“I don’t know,” you pause to think about the real answer. “Thought it would be better than being miserable at home, a friend convinced me, thought it would be fun to stay at a fancy beach house with my boyfriend. Some combination of those?”

You pick at something invisible on your dress. Avoiding the heat of Dieter’s gaze. “Now, I’m just stuck outside with a headache. Why are you here?” you counter.

“I just told you. Did you take something from the guy in the studded jacket?”

“No. I mean, why are you outside with me? Aren’t there drugs you could be doing? Or there was that guy begging you to do body shots in the kitchen?”

“Kind of bored of it all,” he muses, scratching thoughtfully at his bearded jaw.

“Maybe you need a more intellectually stimulating scene,” you suggest. It was more a grumpy dig at the belligerent attendees, but he seems to be genuinely considering your suggestion. You let yourself ogle his handsome features as he thinks. Then his eyes light up and he snaps his head towards you.

“Do you want to go to the pool house?” he asks.

Your eyes narrow into a fierce glare and he raises his hands in surrender. “No, I mean there’s a bed. You said you have a headache. If you want to lie down.”

“That’s not where the orgy is happening?”

“No,” he snorts, “I think there’s a sex party across the street, though, if you’re interested,” he smirks at you. You roll your eyes at him exaggeratedly and give him a playful shove. “You wish, Bravo.”

You take him up on the offer to lie down, though. There’s a code to unlock the pool house, giving you a private little escape.

You decide to send the code to Frankie, letting him know you’ll be here all night. Hoping he still decides to show up. You enlist Dieter’s help. He repeats after you, “Broad, brooding, brown hair, brown eyes?”

“Exactly,” you confirm. “If you see him, tell him where he can find me?”

“Of course,” he agrees with a chuckle.

You spring to your feet, eagerly seeking out your solitude. Halfway across the yard you look back over your shoulder to mouth thank you at your generous host. He gives you a nod and a wink that is criminally hot.

You let yourself in and explore the space. It’s bigger than your apartment. You pass the living space and mini kitchen, down the hall to find the bedroom. It’s like a luxury hotel suite. You slip out of your shoes and crawl directly into the bed.

Dieter is still dumbstruck by you. Your our smile, your prickly yet playful aura, your sexy confidence. He lingers outside, caught up in his daydream of you, before he resigns himself to circling back through the house. He shares a few stories, laughs at some jokes, and does his best to enjoy the rest of the night. But his eyes constantly wander back to the the pool house.

He’s drawn to it like a moth. Except–it’s dark. The lights are off.

You’re wrapped up in a down duvet and crisp, clean linens. The noise from outside is significantly dulled, most people filtered back into the main house or down to the beach.

You drift into a hazy slumber, fading in and out. Unsure of the time, too stubborn to check your phone afraid of being disappointed the sun rises before you hear from your boyfriend. It’s still dark out whenever you peek at the windows though, so you keep drifting back off, hoping to wake up to your man. You’re rolling over to stretch, once again, when you hear a soft knock on the door.

“Yeah?” you reply, not fully awake.

The door swings open, and he can see you in the glow of the light from the hall.

You’re luminous even in the near dark, and he pauses before the critical thinking skills come to life and he can see the scowl on your face. “Sorry,” he starts.

Dieter had been wavering since you walked away from him. Wondering if he was reading the right signals. If you looked back hoping he was following. If he was the brown eyed prince you were really waiting for. Now he worries that he waited too long in his indecision.

You squint, eyes aching from the bright light in the hallway, only able to make out the silhouette of the broad shoulders in the doorway.

“Sorry, I thought you might still be up,” he trails off, in that familiar gravelly voice.

“Fucking finally,” you groan. “I thought you were going to just leave me here.”

Finally? He was right.

“Just get in here, please.” You toss the corner of the duvet back, inviting him in.

He’s still smiling in the doorway, thinking of something perfect to say when you lose patience.

“Look, you can either get in here and show me how sorry you are for making me wait for you all night, or you can fuck off–but don’t just stand in the doorway blinding me. Please.” You huff, covering your eyes and rolling onto your side to bury your face in the covers.

You hear the door shut before you feel the familiar weight of his body slipping into the bed behind you, and it’s comforting to finally have Frankie here. You thought you’d be left tossing and turning until the sun came up. Wondering if he was upset or just late.

He rests his hand on you, feather light but deliberate. You melt into his touch, stubborn words forgotten at the familiarity of his body heat. He moves slowly, tentatively caressing your shoulders as his nose grazes the back of your neck.

“Finally,” you murmur sleepily, arching you back to press closer into him, moving on instinct.

“Yeah?” his voice is low, husky and rich. Your favorite thing about him.

“Mmhm,” you mumble, pushing back against him. “So late…” Your body responds to his presence, a heat stirring that’s impossible to ignore.

Dieter’s ego flares. He knew there was something simmering behind your jabs.

“You sure about this?” he whispers against your warm skin, hand sliding up your side.

You assume he’s worried you’re still mad at him. Or maybe he thinks you’re too tired. You reassure him with whispered affirmations and a soft moan as your back arches instinctually, pressing closer to him, drawn to his warmth.

It’s the breathy please that spears hot down his spine. Hearing you beg for him, it’s more permission than he needs. He kisses your neck, unhurried, letting his lips linger on your skin as his hands move along the dips and curves of your body. There’s a tenderness in his touch that surprises even him.

He doesn’t rush, savoring the sounds you make, the way your body responds, and hoe pliant you are for him. Encouraged, he moves lower, rolling you onto your back, and settling between your legs. The sensations are overwhelming. Blurring the lines between dream and reality as he goes down on you with expert precision.

He always knows how to make it up to you without needing words. You run a hand through his hair and when he groans against your soft, wet cunt it draws you to the edge. He’s greedy as you shudder and wriggle beneath him, eagerly sucking at your clit until it’s all too much. Lost in the moment, you’re floaty, murmuring praise between moans as you come undone beneath his skilled mouth.

When you tell him to fuck you, he doesn’t hesitate. He rolls you onto your stomach, sliding his cock through your sopping folds, coating himself in the mix of your arousal and his saliva.

“Oh, fuck,” his raw desire for you makes your tongue go numb. Unable to respond, until he starts to ease into you and the stretch, the angle, the intimacy of his body covering yours–it makes you both groan loudly. He fits against you so perfectly. You’re too drunk with the pleasure to question any unusual differences.

Too lost in the heat of it all. He presses kisses into your spine while thrusting slowly, languidly, and deeply inside of you. When he lowers his chest against your back you can feel his heart beating loudly, like it’s calling to yours. With the heightened sensations and his velvety rich voice in your ear, he urges you closer and closer to a hypnotically intense, rolling orgasm.

When your thighs tremble beneath him and you beg him to come for you, his body responds like he’s under your spell. Throbbing and pulsing inside of you until his weight collapses on you. He rolls you to you side with him, staying connected, limbs tangled like vines and he’s mesmerized by you. Listening to your breathing as you fall asleep in his arms, sated and secure.

When you wake up in the morning, groggy and confused, the first thing you notice is the wrong smell. It’s not your boyfriend’s–it’s Dieter’s. Cold panic floods your body as you realize you’re in the wrong man’s arms. You try to pull away but Dieter’s still asleep, trapping you under his heavy arm.

A dense, searing mix of guilt and arousal swirls within you like lava as you register his hard cock pressed against you and your recollection of the night starts to clarify. It makes you hesitate.

Dieter, feeling your movement, tightens his grip around you and shifts. He’s hard and leaking against you and your traitorish pussy is slick between your legs, throbbing like a siren song for him to fill you up again.

His body unconsciously grinds against you. Your heart races, mind scrambling to make sense of everything. Every kiss, every touch, the way he’d been so gentle and tender. It wasn’t your boyfriend at all. But he made you feel so desired, cherished. Things you haven’t felt in a long time.

Your breath catches in your throat. The shock is dizzying, but there’s a quiet moment of mutual awareness as his breathing changes. You know he’s awake. Waiting on you before he dares to move again.

Without thinking you press back against him, heart fluttering in your chest. It’s instantaneous. He flips you around and you’re finally facing him in the soft light. Barely able to take in his besotted expression before your lips are drawn together in an impassioned kiss.

Your mutual arousal reignites like a blazing fire in the quiet early morning. It’s wrong. But in that moment, the connection between you feels inevitable. It’s as if it had always been building, a force of nature you couldn’t stop.

The shock and guilt fall to the side. Regret doesn’t get enough light to grow. The anger at your boyfriend’s absence whispers convincingly in your ear.

None of it matters when you lower yourself onto his cock, eyes fluttering shut, as his hands knead your thighs. None of it matters when you watch the lust cloud his eyes and his plush lips part as you start to move. None of it matters until you’re startled by the jarring sound of your phone buzzing on the night stand.

You’re frozen in place as the buzzing continues. Dieter grabs the phone, reading the name on the screen. His other hand trails over your hip moving with purpose until his thumb draws a slow, firm circle around your clit.

“You better answer,” he says, handing the phone to you, “think it’s your boyfriend.”

dividers by @cyberangel-graphics

General tags 💗:

@lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar @swankyorange

#dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter x reader #dieter bravo smut #pedro pascal #ppcu fanfic #dieter x you #dieter bravo #pedro pascal fanfiction

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clownattack · 9 months ago

Text

Add on: Contrary to what these guys seem to believe, i have not been reading crinkles fic past what he shared with me via google docs. They're flattering themselves, ego issues as per uj. I dont feel the need to read whatever crinkle puts out, not when i know at this point what kind of person he is and how unhealthy his attitude towards his writing is, and that he puts it above everything else, even his spouse & "friends". All i know is that shit was talked about me, and neither my partner nor crinkles spouse were happy about what was said. I dont think it matters much what they spew, seeing how disconnected from reality crinkle and krys are.

Adding some stuff for posterity:

I have never encountered a more dedicated liar than Crinkle. He will act like he loves what people close to him are like and what they do, only to change his mind drastically the moment anyone has an issue with him. Extremely inauthentic.

Romanticizes self harm and suffering - idk what type of person gets envious of people who self harm, but thats Crinkle. Allergic to the idea of getting help.

Dishes it out but cant take it whatsoever. Makes mountains out of molehills while actually being the one to say/do fucked up shit to people.

He mistakes boundaries with extremely questionable expectations for people close to him. Krys thinks mediating means they can talk shit about people behind closed doors. No. You absolute snake.

He can only blame himself for damaging his relationship - i know irl's were telling him what he's doing is unacceptable and he chose to ignore them. Blaming people around him for the messes he causes is just something cr does, doesnt matter how obvious his fault is.

Crinkle was actually the person who couldn't help himself but to keep contacting me even after i said goodbye. He kept going off and was extremely rude and inflammatory, only to then make a surprised pikachu face when it made me justifiably angry (entitlement, acting like i should deliver him a link to my kofi on a silver platter so he can give me a refund after EVERYTHING he already did, name calling someone he already mistreated, petty teenager behavior... like yeah who wouldnt get mad? Both cr and krys acted in snakey, infantile ways and thats that).

I havent gone on a blocking spree because unlike krys and crinkle i dont need a baby gate; i havent looked at their socials since waaay before the fallout, and after the fallout i had even less interest in going anywhere near them. The only time i actually commented on crinkles ao3 was after krys went off on my partner after they left a comment there - an understandably critical comment, considering they are not happy with how i was treated by crinkle. Unlike crinkle and krys, i know what it means to have my partners back and i decided to leave replies of my own. That was the only time i made ANY SORT OF CONTACT with these two, even though cr was baiting me previously.

From what ive heard crinkle and krys were the ones going feral and blocking me everywhere in a panic, even though i made absolutely no attempts to contact either of them, at any point. I do go off abt them in tags on my personal blog posts etc but these posts are never @tting anyone, they can only be found if you lurk on my blog. Which both of them did to an unhealthy extent (obsessive in krys' case. Youre 35, get a grip). Like why even block someone if youre going to be sitting on their blog anyway..?

CrinklyTinfoil bs

Just a collection of receipts since krys decided to go ahead and spew such backwards bs im no longer willing to keep this to myself - i only did in the first place because crinkles spouse (nightjarteeth) asked me to keep it tucked away for a while (Night is aware of the events and supports me in the situation last i checked). Crinkle really hates the idea of their behavior backfiring & someone they hurt speaking about the experience. They will do anything to discredit people, doesnt matter if they caused the sitch in the 1st place. Its all about appearances, distorting events and grasping at straws for them. If you're their reader and you choose to believe them - remember they were comfortable pulling wool over the eyes of their spouse and someone they called a "dear friend". Ask yourself why anyone else would be exempt from this. I might update this when i have more time on my hands.

#idk why/which one of them assumed i read anything they put out but its not like more delusions & entitlement from them are surprising #other fics exist #from authors without sticks up their asses #from authors whose priorities are real people and making sure they dont impact ND people around them negatively #we are built different #also i dont need a handler to stop me from interacting with ppl and stuff i dont like #the same cant be said abt these guys #lurkers #yikes #iykyk #remember to show highest reverence to the barely edited amongus r*pe fics guys #again this is surface level stuff. its so much worse when u actually know what these ppl are like irl. especially krys lmao #crinkle thinking he can betray people the way he did and still get fair treatment is baffling. Everything these bozos get is well deserved #crinkle really is the type of peep to say he wants big dick energy and then act the opposite of it at all times / be the biggest wimp ever #running away from his actions and issues etc #big dick energy would be owning up to the damage sincerely without continued insults @ ppl he wronged #apologies sandwiched between insults are not apologies lmao #shameless behavior

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thebisexualdogdad · 5 months ago

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can u make a sequel (or maybe even a prequel 😉) to ur tim x male! chen reader fic?

Lucy's brother part 1

Tim Bradford x Male!reader

So finding out that you had slept with your sister's training officer was pretty awkward to say the least but you really liked Tim and talked to them separately to see if there was any possible way you could continue to see him.

They each had valid concerns and neither wanted anyone to think Tim would give Lucy special treatment just because he was dating her brother but after a couple of weeks the two of them decided you and Tim should give this relationship a real shot.

You didn't necessarily keep it a secret but you weren't so open about it either which wasn't hard for Tim since he already preferred keeping his private life private… well, except for his best friend Angela who still found this whole situation quite amusing, most people at the station didn't even know he was gay.

Lucy on the other hand had a much harder time not spilling your relationship to everyone especially Jackson and Nolan.

“Tim seems in a good mood, maybe he'll take it easy on you today,” Jackson laughs as they collect their war bags for their shift.

“Huh? What? I have no idea what you're talking about I wouldn't know why he's in a good mood,” she rambles, avoiding eye contact as she ejects herself from the conversation and hurrying out the door to the patrol cars.

You rarely brought Tim to the apartment, usually spending time at his house to avoid creating any awkward run ins like the time he used your shower after a day at the paintball range and Lucy came home to him walking around in only a towel.

Tonight however Lucy told you she was going to be gone due to plans to go bar hopping with Jackson, Nolan and some of the other rookies they graduated with from the academy and her crashing at Jackson's apartment afterwards.

You took the opportunity to invite Tim over for a date night in, cooking him dinner and watching a movie however the movie was forgotten about half way through when Tim started kissing your neck.

Now you were on top of him making out on the couch, your phone on the kitchen counter where you couldn't hear your it buzzing with texts from Lucy saying how plans changed and Jackson was crashing with you guys instead.

The movie was too loud for you two to hear the front door opening and Lucy turned the light on to the sight of you in Tim’s lap, both of your shirts gone but luckily you were still dressed from the waist down.

“Oh my god,” she says covering her eyes.

“Hey Tim what are you doing here?” Jackson says pretty tipsy, taking him a minute to put the pieces together yet, “woah wait, are Y/N and Tim dating?”

You quickly hop off Tim and you scramble for your shirts, “you can open your eyes Lucy we’re decent.”

“You really couldn't go to your bedroom to do that?” Lucy questions, her words slurred, “now I have to burn the couch.”

“Don't be so dramatic nothing happened,” you sigh, “come on you are both drunk you should drink some water and go to sleep.”

“I can't wait to tell Nolan that you and Tim are dating Y/N, he didn't believe me when I said Tim was totally gay,” Jackson laughs.

After getting Jackson set up on the couch and Lucy in her bed you stand outside your apartment door with Tim saying goodnight to him.

“Sorry our date was a bust,” you apologize.

“It's alright let's just stick to having dates at my place,” he chuckles, “but uh could you talk to Jackson? I don't care if Nolan knows about us but I don't need him going and blabbing my personal business to the whole station.”

“I'll talk to him in the morning,” you smile, “but you know he's gonna tell Angela about this right.”

“Oh great, something else for her to tease me about,” he laughs, kissing you sweetly, “are you still in for the double date with her and Wesley next weekend?”

“Looking forward to it,” you say, kissing him one more time.

Dating your sister's TO was a lot harder to navigate than you thought it would be but you had fallen hard for Tim so you wouldn't change a thing.

#the rookie imagine #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford x reader #x male reader #fic

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its-time-to-write · 1 year ago

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hi sweetheart! i was wondering if you could do a jamie imagine where the reader is a physical therapist and he’s always finding the most ridiculous excuses to go see her, like getting a paper cut and things like that. i would also love if it could be before they got together :)

it’s okay if you don’t want to do it or already did it and i didn’t see it. thank you anyway, you’re one of my favorite writers here on tumblr 🩵

you called me sweetheart, so now I would die for you. pet names are the way to my heart, in case u didn’t know. hope u enjoy🍊

(important disclaimer, I don’t know how physical therapy works so if I’m wrong about things, remember this isn’t a medical journal, I am just a girl)

before you go

Apparently, it’s impossible to purposely give yourself a paper cut, but Jamie Tartt has been doing his damnedest all day to get some kind of ailment, so if that means being careless with some photographs in his locker then so be it.

He really wishes his leg would cramp or something, but Will’s been keeping him far too hydrated for that.

So Jamie has to settle for slipping a picture of his mum at just the right angle to draw blood.

“Shit,” he whispers softly. He puts his finger to his mouth to catch the first beads of blood.

“Paper cut?” Sam asks sympathetically. Jamie nods, finger in between his teeth.

“Ay, sí, you should go see the physio for that one, amigo. Ask for the Rojas special,” Dani says with his ever-present grin.

“It’s just a paper cut, mate,” Jamie says in order to keep up appearances.

Sam knocks his arm. “You have to go. Dani only just let me request the Rojas special last week, and Richard still won’t talk to me about it.”

“Ça c’est merde,” Richard calls from across the locker room. “Put on a bandage and go home.”

Jamie won’t. He sticks his tongue out at Richard and turns to go to the treatment room because he needs treatment right away. Never mind that it’s a cut and not a muscle injury. He can hide under the excuse that Dani sent him.

Jamie taps on the door and pushes it open to find you sitting on the table, absentmindedly tapping your fingers on your knees. You jump down at the sight of Jamie.

“Hi! I was wondering if anybody’d be over today,” you grin. “Where does it hurt?”

Jamie holds up his finger. “Dani sent me.”

“Ah, right,” you nod, grin never leaving your face. Jamie wonders if your sunny disposition is why you and Dani are such good friends. Suddenly, he’s gripped by uncertainty. Maybe you and Dani are morethan good friends. After all, Dani is strangely tight-lipped about his affairs and besides, it’s not good for the physio to be openly screwing a player.

Maybe he should go.

But you’ve already come back to him after rummaging in a cupboard, small box in hand.

“Technically, this isn’t part of my job,” you say as you select a band-aid, “but I’ve been doing this since I started going to my nephew’s footie matches. Kid’s almost ten now, but he still asks for me every time he gets a scrape. First time I was here it was like, force of habit, but Dani said it reminded him of his sister, so…” you trail off. “I dunno, it’s funny that even big strong footballers still want silly bandages, yeah?”

Jamie watches as you open a green bandage with yellow flowers and wrap it carefully around his finger. You press a kiss to it and smile up at him. “There. All better.”

Jamie is… well, he’s flustered. He’s heard about the so-called Rojas special and how it’s available through recommendation only, but he wasn’t prepared for the sweet way you cradled his hand or the fact that your lips touched him. In fact, he wasn’t prepared for anything beyond a bandage and the fact that you slipped sweets to Sam and Dani to numb the sting of injury.

“Thanks,” he chokes out, aware of the fact that you’re still holding his hand. You give it one last squeeze before dropping it.

“See you around,” you say.

Jamie mumbles something unintelligible and finds his way out the door.

“Fuck you,” he says to Sam as soon as he catches him in the car park.

Sam raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t get a chocolate. Did you not hold still?”

“I- you- it- fuck you,” Jamie says again. “You fucking knew.”

“Knew what?” Dani asks. He’s a horrible liar.

“You knew I thought she was fit. You didn’t tell me she’s, like, emotionally fit as well. So fuck you both for that.”

Sam mouths emotionally fit as he and Dani dissolve into laughter.

“Which band aid did you get?” Dani asks when he finally regains control of himself. “She ran out of Peppa Pig last week, but she promised to get some more soon.”

Jamie holds up his finger, wishing the cut were on the middle one.

Sam and Dani lean into inspect it and nod once.

“Well?” Jamie demands. They just look at him with stupid grins.

“Good night, Jamie Tartt,” Dani says, opening Sam’s passenger seat door.

“Good night, Jamie,” Sam echoes.

The fuckers just leave him standing in the lot, heart racing like a fucking idiot.

—

Jamie’s ankle is barely twisted. Like, barely. But he grew up watching football so he knows how make an injury seem worse than it is. He’s mastered the art of not going overboard.

“You should see the physio,” Beard tells him. Jamie pretends to protest a little bit, ignoring the way Ted shoots Dani and Sam quizzical looks. They’re making some sort of face and Jamie’s not going to figure out what they mean because he doesn’t care.

(Or maybe he already knows what they mean. But he doesn’t give a shit.)

So he hobbles his way to the treatment room where you’re typing something on the computer. Reports, probably.

You look up with a smile when you see him, the quickly school it into a frown. “Where does it hurt?” you ask.

“My ankle,” Jamie grimaces.

You pat the table and he obliges, sitting down on the crinkly paper.

You squat to undo his boot and Jamie realizes that maybe this isn’t the best way to get you to fall for him but it’s too late now because you’re gingerly sliding it off his foot.

“D’you mind if I get the sock as well?” you ask, and it’s all Jamie can do to mutely shake his head. You lightly run a cool hand over his ankle.

“Feels a bit swollen,” you say. “What happened?”

Jamie has to gather his thoughts firmly away from the way he could feel the callouses on your palm. “Tackle,” he says.

“Hm,” you reply. “Does this hurt?”

Jamie gasps as you press your thumb at just the wrong spot.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you say. “Lie down. I’m going to massage it for a minute then put it on ice. You’ll be good to go in an hour.”

Jamie obeys, trying to ignore the way his breath hitches when your hand squeezes his calf for a fraction of a second.

You’re able to find all the right spots, gently pushing the muscle back where it needs to go. You pat his foot gently and go to get an ice pack. “Keep this on for fifteen minutes, off for five, then on for another fifteen. If it still hurts I’ll get you another pack, or maybe a heating pad. Depends on what type of pain you have, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“You sending me back?” Jamie asks in a feeble attempt to be his usual confident self.

You hesitate. “I mean… the other option is you stay here. I won’t lie to you, it’s pretty quiet back here but it doesn’t smell. Will got me on these scent diffuser packs, so this is one of the least-gross rooms on the lower level. I usually just type reports, but I’ve finished for now so I was going to read but we can chat if you like. You don’t have to, but I can monitor your ankle for the next hour if you’re here. It’s up to you.”

Stay and flirt with the pretty physio or sit on the bench instead of practicing?

Jamie positions himself better on the table. “What’s your book about?”

—

Jamie wishes that he were just making an excuse to come see you, but if that were the case he’d have made sure to be showered. Instead, he’s fresh off the pitch after a long day of practice and he needs his joints like, replaced or some shit.

He stumbles into the treatment room and practically flops facedown on the table. You’re up in an instant, combing his hair away from his face with your fingers.

“Where does it hurt?” you ask, voice filled with concern.

“Everywhere,” Jamie groans.

“Okay, so full-massage with the extra-large ice pack at the end, then,” you say.

Jamie just grunts in response and tries not to think about the fact that this is the most unromantic way he’s ever tried to date a girl. He tells himself that you’re a physio, that you’ve seen grosser, and that you’re not even interested in him anyway. It still doesn’t stop him from asking about your day and cracking stupid jokes the entire time you’re popping his muscles. His voice squeaks every time you forcibly release tension, but you just laugh and tell him, “You should hear Isaac.” So yeah, the worst training of his life has now turned out to be a goddamned blessing in disguise because you’re joking back and forth for a solid twenty minutes.

“Come back any time,” you tell him with a wink as he heads out the door. “You don’t have to be injured to say hey.”

Jamie smiles at that, and goes to tell Sam and Dani that they’re shitheads but he loves them very much.

—

It’s been a long week and an especially long match, but thank fuck it’s over. There’s a bit of an ache in his legs but he doesn’t give a flying shit. They’ve won, for once, so as a reward to himself he’s going to invite you out with the lads. Proper, like, probably with the words, “Hey I think you’re fit,” except he’s thinking he should probably swap “fit,” for beautiful, or stunning, or the most wonderful, funny, amazing woman he’s ever met and no, it’s not just because of the magical healing powers you seem to possess.

Jamie showers, changes, then heads purposefully down the hall. He knows you’re still here, you never leave after matches until everyone who might possibly need physio is gone.

He bangs open the door, ready to regale you with the shit Ted’s up to post-match when he catches sight of your face. Or rather, the fact that it’s in your hands as your shoulders shake.

He rushes over to the desk and turns your chair so you’re facing him.

His hands are on your knees as he urgently whispers, “Where does it hurt?”

“It doesn’t,” you gasp, wiping your eyes. “I’m fine, I don’t know what came over me, I’m good, I promise. What’s up?”

You move to get up but Jamie presses lightly where his hands were resting. “You don’t look fine, love,” he says, then internally winces. Not a good thing to say to a girl, no matter how true it is.

“I’m good, swear down,” you choke. You move to wipe away another tear but Jamie beats you to it, swiping it with his thumb. You shudder involuntarily, trying not to notice the rough feel of his skin on yours.

“I’m not hurt,” he says tentatively. “Came to see if you wanted to go out with me ‘n the lads.”

“Oh!” you exclaim, still trying your absolute best to pull yourself together and failing miserably. “Right. I um, I’m going to be here a while so you should just go, yeah? Tell Dani I’m proud of him.”

Jamie shakes his head. “Ain’t leaving you here all by yourself.” He realizes your hands have found their way into his, and he has no idea who put them there. He lifts one to his lips and brushes a kiss to your knuckles. “Just tell me where it hurts, yeah?”

Another shiver wracks your body. “You can’t- I can’t- you have to go, okay Jamie? I need you to go.”

Jamie will, he’ll do anything you ask, but first he has to know-

“Why?” he asks, so softly. “What’s wrong, beautiful?”

“Don’t-” you half-choke. “Not- I’m gross right now.”

Jamie can’t stifle his laugh in time, so he does his best to save it. “Love, you’ve seen me at my fuckin’ worst. We’ll call it even.”

You’re breathing a little easier now, but just barely. You don’t seem too eager to get rid of him so Jamie pushes his luck and stays kneeling on the floor.

“Tell me,” he urges again, but you just shake your head.

“You really should go,” you say, breath catching in your throat. “You don’t want to keep Maia waiting. Heard actresses are notoriously particular about being on time.”

That’s confusing. Maia- do you mean Maia Stanwood? You must, that’s the only Maia he knows. But how did you know her, Jamie had run into her at dinner the other day and there’d been a brief article in the papers, but nothing that connects to what’s happening here.

Unless-

No.

Except- it’s the only thing that makes sense.

But you don’t like him like that. At least, he’s pretty sure. And anyway, isn’t it prickish to assume everyone’s in love with him?

But you’re not everyone, you’re the team physio with nice hands and a sweet smile and an affinity to fix people, to mend what’s broken in the best way you know how.

“I love you,” he says instead of everything else he had planned.

You’re silent, and he’s not sure you’ve heard him so he says it again.

“Yeah, alright, I love you too,” you sniff with a half-smile, except it’s the way you’d say to a brother, the way you’d say it to Dani or Sam.

“No,” Jamie says more insistently, “I love you. That’s why I’m here. I wanted to tell you, wanted to take you out proper. Impress you with my dancing and chat you up at the bar. Make the lads jealous that I’ve got a beautiful girl on my arm, then sneak out early to kiss you like I’ve been fucking thinking about since that fucking paper cut. Had a right crush on you like an idiot since you got hired.”

You’re staring at him open-mouthed, unable to believe what he’s saying, and Jamie doesn’t know much all the time but he knows that you’re gripping his hands like it’s a lifeline. He knows your eyes are wide open and that he was on the mark about you thinking he was with someone else. So he does what anyone in his position would do.

He captures your lips in his, letting go of your hands only so he can slip one hand around your waist and another in your hair.

God, you feel like you’re melting.

Jamie Tartt is kissing you like there’s no tomorrow and the floor is tipping out from under you, but apart from that vague feeling all you’re aware of is his hands on you and the fact that he tastes like spearmint.

His lips are soft against yours, mouth warm and inviting.

It’s like taking a breath of air for the first time in months.

“I love you,” you say as soon as you break apart. You’re breathing heavily as if you’re the one who just played a 90-minute match. Jamie’s lips are swollen and your hair is mussed, but you both share the same look.

“All better?” he asks, and you nod.

“Good. You want to get dinner? I know a few places we can go, don’t have to worry about paps.”

“The team-” you begin, but Jamie waves that away.

“They’ll understand,” he says. “Been flirting with you for ages, getting injured all the time. Think Ted’s starting to get fucking worried.”

You run your thumb down his jawline. “I always wondered about that,” you murmur. “Thought it was in my head how much you were down here. Didn’t want to be unprofessional.”

Jamie reaches up to hold your wrist and you just sit there, on the floor of the treatment room, looking at each other in the dim light. You’ll get up, eventually, but for now you’re going to savor this moment you have together.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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