#unusual skin buddies

[grasshopperqueen]

🐛 *wiggle wiggle*

Cockroaches/ Banana cockroaches

NOW HEAR ME OUT, Insecta considers this like a compliment, she fricken loves cockroaches and thinks of them very highly. There’s many different ways Joan associates people with bugs wether it be patterns and colors, traits they share, or just random things that remind her of them, and in khares case it’s a few things.

When she first met khare, it was mostly because cockroaches remind her of diners (not that paulis diner has a cockroach problem, Insecta actually does a quarterly search of them once she considered khare a friend) many diners that Joan would visit in her hometown had infestations of them, but once Insecta found out about khares mutation she had even more reasons why she reminded her of cockroaches. Cockroaches can regrow limbs (in the nymph stage) like khare can, and when Insecta got to see the eye growths on khare, taking note of the yellow ones specifically, the color reminding her of a subspecies of Cuban cockroaches. A switch in her brain flipped and she just thought “ah not common German cockroach no, Costa Rican banana cockroaches yes!!”

[feeder86]

Gluttons

It was strange how you could go ten years without seeing someone and yet suddenly remember everything about them the moment you came across them again.

Oliver had never understood the alarm system at the house he and his boyfriend had bought a couple of years ago. However, since it had been setting itself off whilst he had been at work, he knew it was time to get someone in to see it. He’d called a company, not knowing that his old high school buddy, Tom, worked for them. That was, until the guy showed up at his door that Thursday afternoon.

Back in the day, Oliver had mixed with quite a diverse crowd in high school. He’d never been one to shoehorn himself into a stereotypical group and had amassed friends across the entire spectrum of high school life. Tom had been on one of those extreme ends of the scale: a typically gorgeous, athletic jock who didn’t have much time for many people outside of the usual jock circle. However, Oliver had always found him relatively easy to chat to and even remembered them getting dared to kiss each other during an alcohol infused round of ‘spin the bottle’ at one of their friend’s parties. Unlike many of the other jocks, Tom seemed more comfortable in his own skin, not caring that Oliver was gay, despite only having an eye for the most athletic girls in the school. It was fair to say that Oliver only had good memories of the guy.

“Oliver!” Tom smiled in recognition as he stood on the doorway carrying his bag of tools. “I didn’t know you lived here!”

The man stepped over the threshold, placing his bag down and reached in for a hug that almost seemed out of place after such a long period of estrangement. The scent of him seemed so familiar. He was still so handsome and good-looking, but what was that Oliver could feel as their torsos bounced against each other? He looked down the moment they stepped apart again, noticing that Tom had developed the cutest, tight and firm-looking paunch on him. It stuck out under his toned chest, stretching the material of the cheap work shirt, looking incredibly out of place on the guy who had once been so fit and active.

“Long time, no see,” Oliver smiled back, trying not to stare at the unusual shape of his old high school buddy. The pair spent a few minutes reminiscing, with Oliver explaining how he and his ex, James, had come to buy the house and lived there together up until three months ago, when the guy had cheated on him and abruptly moved out. 

“I just remember that crazy old cat guy used to live here when we were in high school,” Tom laughed. “I never imagined it would be as nice as this inside.”

“Oh, it definitely wasn’t like this when we bought it,” Oliver laughed. “We pretty much had to start from scratch when we bought the place.”

Tom smiled at him, seeming to admire his achievement. It was the way he had always been, never jealous or competitive; just genuinely happy for others when things were going well; even if people beat him in a tennis match or smashed his high school athletics records. 

As Tom settled to work at the alarm box, Oliver couldn’t help staring at his old friend’s new shape once more. From behind, it was obvious that the tight little paunch on him had pushed around to his sides, providing him with the sweetest little love handles, further emphasised by how ridiculously tight his shirt was around his middle. There was an added thickness to his butt too; his old, slim glutes replaced with more bulbous, stronger-looking butt cheeks. After three months of being angry at the world and swearing off men, Oliver suddenly found himself swooning. He’d always loved guys on the larger side and Tom appeared to be the most perfect dad-bod specimen Oliver had ever seen. As the guy bent down to collect some wires from his bag, an expanse of skin on his lower back came suddenly into view, alongside a sweet shot of his delicious-looking butt crack that his stretched and undersized underwear failed to cover. There was no doubt about it, Oliver was finally getting over his break-up.

“Would you like some cake?” Oliver offered, pulling out the leftovers from the birthday party he had thrown for his mother the day before.

Two greedy little eyes looked upon the cake and the man swallowed a sudden build up of saliva. “Sure,” he nodded eagerly, sipping on his fresh coffee and feeling a lot more spoiled than when he called at most folks’ houses.

Oliver could feel his erection flexing as he pulled out the knife to start cutting the slice. Tom had always been so fit and lean, yet now Oliver was serving him cake whilst enjoying the round, bloated shape of his stomach. He went to dish out the portion when a wicked, kinky part of his brain began whispering to him: ‘More! More! Cut him a bigger slice!’ 

As Oliver listened to it, he felt even more blood pumping into his groin. The slice he had cut was ridiculously massive. He almost felt embarrassed as he served it up. Yet Tom didn’t seem in the slightest bit put off by it. He simply stood to the side, resting the arm holding the plate against his tight, rounded stomach, feeding himself with the fork. The sight was almost mesmerising.

“Can I get you some more?” Oliver asked cheekily, seeing that the plate was cleared remarkably quickly. “It’s fresh cream. I’ll probably end up having to throw it out tomorrow,” he lied.

“Well… okay then,” Tom nodded, seeming to know that he was overindulging. This time, Oliver didn’t bother cutting a slice. The remaining cake was only marginally larger than the slice he had served up last time. He simply slapped the entirety of it onto the plate, thanking Tom for freeing up some space in his refrigerator.

“It’s been really great to see you again,” Tom smiled later on as he gathered up his things and headed to the door.

“You too!” Oliver nodded back, having enjoyed the last half an hour immensely. He felt reinvigorated and irredeemably aroused, as if the time had been the best possible therapy to get him over the sadness of his break-up.

“Perhaps you might let me take you out to dinner sometime?” Tom asked next, suddenly a little shy.

“Dinner?” Oliver shot back in complete and utter shock. “As in… a date?”

“Sure. Why not?” Tom chuckled. “I always remember the two of us having a good vibe together back in high school. I’d like to see whether we still have it.”

Oliver was almost speechless. Sure, he’d been flirting the entire time, but he hadn’t expected any of it to land. Tom had never… Tom wasn’t into guys… What the hell was going on?

“You don’t want to,” Tom sighed, trying to interpret the stunned silence.

“No!” Oliver shot back. “Not ‘no’… I mean, yes. I mean…” he spluttered, grumbling at his sudden inability to communicate effectively. “Okay,” he nodded, trying not to laugh at his own good fortune. “But why don’t you come over here instead of going out? I can cook us a meal.”

Tom smiled brightly. “I’d love that. Tomorrow night?” he asked.

Oliver reflected the smile as he nodded. There really was no time to waste.

At the supermarket the next day, Oliver felt the same sense of arousal he had experienced when serving the cake. There were so many things a relatively overweight, former jock should never eat, suddenly getting thrown into his shopping cart: beers, potato chips, pastries and sodas. Something inside of Oliver was captivated by seeing how much Tom had let his eating habits slide and he endeavoured to create the most decadent dining experience for his date that he possibly could.

When Tom arrived, he looked smart enough in his pants and polished shoes. But just like any guy who wasn’t paying enough attention to his expanding waistline, his shirt was once again tight around his stomach. Even standing up, the buttons looked slightly strained, positively gaping once he sat down and started to eat alongside Oliver.

“You’ve got a great appetite!” Oliver couldn’t help marvelling as Tom reached out for a second helping of the dessert. He got up, spooning out another scoop of ice cream for the man as well, pretending that he was merely pleased that Tom had enjoyed his cooking so much. The guy hadn’t stopped complimenting his food all evening.

“I’ve always enjoyed my food,” Tom nodded back, already starting to spoon it all into his greedy little mouth. “I always used to get away with it when I was younger. But once I hit my mid-twenties, it all started to stick to me a lot more,” he explained, giving his rounded stomach a pat, showing, for the first time, that he was actually aware of it. “I reckon it’s probably the reason I’m still single.”

The shape of that gut was completely mesmerising to Oliver, yet he pushed his urge to stare and marvel at it to the side. It wasn’t normal to be so fixated on a guy’s belly; a feature that most people would find to be Tom’s least attractive attribute. “The last thing I heard about you was that you were engaged to Molly Simpson from the year below us,” Oliver enquired interestedly.

“Oh, yeah…” Tom mumbled back, trying to eat at the same time. “That was a couple of years ago now.” He shook his head, as if something still frustrated him. “I just don’t get it,” he grumbled. “What do people expect guys like me to look like these days? I’m nearly thirty after all.”

It was obvious that his increasing weight had put an end to Tom’s engagement. But the way that Tom seemed genuinely annoyed by it all seemed to suggest that he placed no blame on himself, or his overeating, whatsoever. The volume of food he had devoured was more than extreme that evening, yet the guy seemed to believe his expanding waistline was just a normal part of ageing?

“You remember Steve, my older brother?” Tom asked, still feeding himself. “He’s the same. Only he goes to the gym to try and keep his weight down. But,,, It’s not like I have the time for that, do I?” he shrugged.

Oliver nodded sympathetically. However, there was an excitement inside of him that he felt almost impossible to contain. Tom’s genuine greed had captivated him all evening, yet the multiple excuses and denial about his own part in his increasing weight was adding fuel to that fire; supplying another strange level of arousal to the whole proceedings. “Well, I’m just grateful to have someone who actually enjoys my cooking,” he threw back, resisting the temptation to make a disparaging remark about how his ex had never appreciated all the effort he put into their meals. “So is this why you asked me on a date? You think the girls don’t want you anymore?” he teased, adding another small scoop of ice cream into Tom’s bowl at the guy’s request.

“I told you I was bisexual years ago!” Tom shot back.

“No you didn’t,” Oliver laughed. 

“I definitely did!” Tom countered. “The night we played spin the bottle at Andy’s party. The night we kissed,” he chuckled. “You do remember that, right?” he asked, getting concerned.

“I remember us being dared to kiss,” Oliver nodded. “But I don’t remember anything else. I was pretty wasted. Did you really come out as bisexual to me that night?”

A small smile twitched from the corners of Tom’s mouth. “So that’s why you didn’t ever pick up on my flirting then,” he chuckled, rolling his eyes.

“You were actually into me back then?” Oliver asked, dumbfounded.

“Of course I was,” Tom nodded. “You’re gorgeous!”

The pair held a sickly, besotted look for a moment, before they both got up to move over to Oliver’s lounge space. Tom sat down first. He’d always carried a sense of presence about him, but with his imposing height and added mass, he seemed to fill the area with a deeply arousing, masculine air; his straining shirt gaping once more, bloating from all the food he had devoured; yet Tom appeared completely oblivious to it, with eyes only on Oliver. They talked for a short while about the people they knew from their school days; both of them realising that there were surprisingly few either of them were still in regular contact with. They’d both moved on, lived lives and experienced things that had altered them more than their eighteen-year-old selves could have contemplated. They were so familiar to each other, and yet excitingly new.

Oliver nestled himself under Tom’s arm and rested against his side; a gentle hand draped over the boy’s stout little tummy as they moved in for a sweet kiss. The smell of his body was arousing Oliver more than he thought possible; the gentle sweat and manly musk of a guy who had overindulged in stifling clothes, more than a little too tight for his fattened body. The kiss was good and followed swiftly by another, more passionate and almost frantic, as if their simmering attraction to each other had finally passed the point of no return. It wasn’t as if they were strangers just getting to know each other, and it was obvious what they both wanted.

Oliver’s hands wanted to explore more and more; to rip off Tom’s clothes and see it all. Thankfully, it was Tom who was leading the charge. Perhaps, just like Oliver, this was the first bit of action he had had in months. As such, the kissing progressed quickly, with hands sliding down into crotches and rubbing with gentle moans of encouragement. Tom grunted and unbuckled his pants, sliding them down to let his buoyant erection spring out. Oliver followed his cue, with the pair mutually stroking the other as they kissed; their breathing getting heavier and heavier. 

Finally, Oliver could wait no more. He wanted to see under Tom’s shirt. He wriggled his dropped pants clean off, then raised his own shirt off his slender, gently toned body. Immediately, Tom’s eager hands explored his torso, smiling with eager appreciation. Now was Oliver’s moment. Naked, he stood and smiled wickedly and he pulled Tom’s pants further down and threw them across the room. He sat himself on Tom’s lap, finally taking his hands to the top button of the guy’s shirt, unpicking them all, one by one, making his way down. At last, he spread the material apart, revealing the rounded, most handsome potbelly Oliver had ever seen in his life. The chest was strong and a little hairy. Only the very gentle softness of the nipples gave away the obvious forty pounds Tom had gained since Oliver had seen him last. However, the extreme, solid and heavy ball-shaped stomach was more than he had ever wished for. Here was a man who not only enjoyed his food, but had clearly packed it into himself with relish, growing such a firm, well shaped, spherical mass. It was all Oliver could do not to lament at how insanely arousing he found the sight of it. Instead, he kissed the guy more and more, leading him upstairs to finish the job.

Oliver’s friends were always going to be sceptical when he started a new relationship. They’d witnessed how heartbroken he had been after his split with James, glancing at each other with concern as Oliver had lamented about seeing an old high school crush.

“He’s staying over again tonight?” Mandy had asked. “Doesn’t he have his own place?”

Oliver had steered the conversation carefully, sensing their worries. These friends had only ever known him as the driven, assertive version of his twenties; mistaking that now for a reckless, foolhardy fall into a rebound relationship. In contrast, Tom seemed to know him so much more; that unrefined incarnation of his teenage years and the way it had evolved now into someone the man appeared to have fallen for just as much as Oliver had in return.

“Trust me,” Oliver had smiled at them all. “You’ll understand when you meet him.”

However, when the friends did meet Tom, Oliver soon realised how much of a serious misstep he had taken in laying the groundwork. He’d talked too much about how they’d known each other in high school and how popular Tom had been with the girls because of his athleticism. So when he arrived with a thicker, slightly pot-bellied physique, he should have been less surprised when their eyes kept flying back to Tom’s swollen middle. Of course they would be surprised. Oliver’s ex, James, had been obsessed with the gym, whereas it was obvious that Tom was not. Like a typical guy who had packed on a few pounds, Tom was continuing to wear his medium t-shirts that clung unflatteringly against the expanded waistline, emphasising it even more. It also didn’t help that Tom had arrived, feeling pretty hungry. He ordered more than everyone else and even reached across to grab the things people had left on their plates when they were too polite to refuse him.

If Oliver was honest, he felt a strange sense of embarrassment at Tom’s overeating and attire. His new boyfriend’s greed and appearance did not match in the slightest with the men his friends were used to him dating. Upon meeting Tom, they were quickly realising that Oliver’s taste in men wasn’t always quite so mainstream. On the other hand, however, it was incredibly thrilling to show off the kind of man Oliver found genuinely so appealing: overfed, under-exercised and swollen. As Tom ate, Oliver’s hardness built, realising that were Tom to continue on this path, this was probably the slimmest his friends would ever see his new lover.

In truth, Oliver knew that he was significantly overfeeding Tom whenever he came over. It almost felt like something he could barely control as he stocked his refrigerator and cupboards with all the decadent favorites he knew Tom wouldn’t be able to resist. Meanwhile, Tom relaxed into it completely, resting back into the couch as he sipped on his beers and allowed his new lover to spoil him. It was obvious how much he enjoyed it all, lamenting more than once how great it was to be dating someone who didn’t constantly nag him about his eating, as it appeared his previous girlfriends had all done. In Tom’s mind, this made dating guys so much easier.

The effects were instantaneous. When they first started sleeping together, Oliver could squint his eyes and still see the toned, athletic butt that Tom had had back at the end of high school, even with his slightly oversized glutes. Now, however, the tops of Tom’s thighs had started softening and the butt cheeks had pushed outwards, developing significantly more width to them through a lack of exercise. Tom’s ass had become that of a fat man, rather than a simple ex-jock, meaning that Oliver was able to finish with remarkable speed whenever they practised being versatile in the bedroom. But as Oliver thrusted and pounded, he wasn’t simply enjoying the feel and shape of Tom’s chubby butt; in his mind, he was imagining the size it could grow to with more time and encouragement. After all, it was obvious that Tom’s rear was only ever going to grow bigger.

Unlike other people, there seemed to be a genuine disconnect between Tom and the appearance of his body. He didn’t seem to notice how badly his clothes were fitting, nor become irritated by how obviously uncomfortable certain items of clothing must have been for him; his tortured, stretched out and exhausted underwear sliding further down his butt crack. After a performance management review, Tom came back wearing larger work shirts that had been issued to him after his manager saw the disastrous fit of the old ones. Tom had shrugged it off without complaint, nor alarm over how much thicker he was becoming. He was the type of man who didn’t make issues where there needn’t to be any. His weight wasn’t impacting his work, nor his sex life, so it surely mustn’t be a problem.

Out of both excitement and neccessity, Oliver took the initiative and started to buy Tom some new items to wear, finding that the man was more than happy to accept the guidance. Having never had an interest in clothes, he’d assumed that, as a gay man, Oliver would be a lot more knowledgeable about how to dress him. The casual look was so sexy on him as well; the sweatshorts and sweatpants, the sleeveless t-shirts and elasticated waistbands. It was obvious how Tom’s gain had been able to take hold of him. The guy had adopted a lazy lifestyle that Oliver had enabled with ease. As Tom drove around from house to house in work, he’d been making casual calls at fast food places several times in a week, as was evident throughout his work vehicle. He’d avoided walking as much as he could, always ensuring he parked as close as possible to the store he was visiting. When he got home, he would collapse on the couch and not move. Indeed, a brief look in the glutton’s kitchen cupboards would tell anyone that he had the taste buds of a five year old; with sugary snacks and tasty treats filling them up entirely.

For the first time, Tom was starting to carry a little more weight in his face, with cheeks that had swollen slightly and the start of a small chin. His pecs had softened, with fat beginning to spread under his arms as his rounded gut inflated once more.  Oliver realised that in only three months of dating, he had probably witnessed Tom gaining a further thirty pounds of fat on his tall frame without a care in the world.

It was around that time when Oliver was taken to meet Tom’s family. Despite only knowing for a few days that their son had flipped to dating a guy for the first time, Tom was still remarkably affectionate with Oliver in front of them. His brother, Steve, and his wife, Rachel, had been invited along for dinner at the same time, really piling on the pressure for Oliver to impress. 

Oliver had an image in his head of how he expected Tom’s parents to look; after all, Tom had done every athletics club under the sun when he was growing up, and it wasn’t unreasonable for Oliver to anticipate that this was as a result of his upbringing. However, Oliver quickly realised that the picture he had of them in his head couldn’t have been more wrong. Tom’s mother was short, round and carried an enormous amount of weight on her giant rear. His father was an even more extreme example of obesity, clearly weighing no less than four hundred pounds on his tall and broad frame. Oliver wondered if this had been a recent thing for the pair of them, but as he gazed upon the family photos around the house, he realised that Tom and his brother, Steve, had always grown up with very large parents. 

Steve’s wife, Rachel, was someone Oliver remembered clearly as the former editor of the high school newspaper; an extremely bossy and studious girl from the year above and not someone Oliver had been particularly keen to get to know. Perhaps it was just the fact that she had seen so many of Tom’s love interests come and go over the many years she had been a part of the family, but she did not seem in the slightest bit as interested in Oliver as the rest of the friendly bunch. She picked at and chastised her husband for reaching for a second helping of dessert and she positively scowled at her mother-in-law when she brought out further snacks after dinner. Her reason for this was simple. Much like Tom, Steve had packed on quite a good amount of weight since his athletic high school days. He’d developed a stout little tummy and his face had that distinct puffiness to it that his younger self had not.

“The boys always overeat when they come here,” Rachel grumbled quietly to Oliver later on, as the pair were alone for the first time. “Walt and Sue have absolutely no idea about healthy diets or portion control,” she sighed, referring to Tom’s parents; clearly wound up and frustrated by having to be there.

“Well, they’re clearly good cooks,” Oliver smiled back, trying to keep the conversation light.

“Steve and I went through a rough patch a couple of years ago and he moved back here for two months,” she replied, still attempting to make her point. “Forty pounds!” she exclaimed. “That’s how much he gained from just being here with those two, eating the same things that they do. He’s still carrying around some of it now.”

“I see,” Oliver nodded, not really wanting to get involved in Rachel’s in-law grumblings.

“Give these boys an inch and they’d turn into the image of their father,” Rachel nodded, finally seeming to reach her point. “Tom’s weight has gone up and down in the last couple of years, but I’ve never seen him this big before. You’ll need to start putting your foot down with him, like I do with Steve.”

With impeccable timing, the pair watched as Tom reached out and fed himself a large doughnut as he finally finished drying the dishes with the others. Three large bites and it was gone, like it had been nothing more than air. It was plain to see that Rachel was absolutely right. Left to their own devices, both Tom and his brother were exactly the type of men who could stumble into quite extreme obesity. If only Rachel knew that Oliver had no intentions of ever preventing that.

Oliver had never dated a guy with so little inhibitions when it came to his body. Despite the fat little tummy he had developed, Tom seemed completely at ease lounging around Oliver’s house in nothing but his underwear; even answering the door to the take-out delivery guy with next to nothing on. Perhaps it stemmed from the days when Tom had been the ultimate fantasy for so many women; tall, broad and handsome. But with his gut pushing out in one direction and his chubby rear in another, the guy was getting further and further away from the sleek form that had once made women droll. His laziness was evident by how content he was to lay about all weekend, making multiple excuses whenever Oliver suggested going for a hike, or getting out for some exercise. Overfed, oversexed and under-exercised, Tom had reached a level of contentment in his new relationship that was only ever going to have one result.

It was easy to become blind to it all. Tom’s eating was indeed quite extreme. He could arrive at Oliver’s place with a tray of doughnuts and go to bed that night with not a single one left. Despite being well catered for, he ordered in food later in the evening and he slurped on beers and sodas like he’d spent a month in a dry desert. It was as if he was so comfortable and happy in his relationship with Oliver, he was taking the best vacation from caring about his diet at all.

However, as the months trickled by, it was clear that Tom’s eating was anything but temporary. Their first holiday season together had been an eye-opener as Oliver saw just how much Tom’s family indulged. Rachel had been a constant snarky killjoy the entire time, biting Steve’s head off anytime he went in for extra helpings in the same way Tom seemed to enjoy doing. It was obvious that neither Tom, nor his parents were all that keen on her, making it significantly easier for them to appreciate how laid back Oliver was instead. By simply not nagging or chastising Tom as his gut bloated up into an even more spherical shape, he’d become the firm favorire amongst even the extended family. It was something that Oliver didn’t mind too much. Rachel was abrasive and harsh. It was easy to feel sorry for Steve as they waved goodbye to them both after a meal at Tom’s parents; Rachel’s face set like stone because her husband had overeaten once more.

Moving in together had been the inevitable next step for Oliver and Tom. However, this process was sped up significantly by the fact that Tom’s landlord was wanting to sell. Although it had been less than eighteen months since Oliver had kicked out his last lover, there he was welcoming another into his home. He’d expected the usual teething problems as they learned to get along, living side by side. Yet the experience turned out to be nothing but pure pleasure. Not only was their sex life as rampant as ever, but Tom was considerate and funny, appreciating how lucky he was to have a guy who was not only willing to let him move in, but make the changes he wanted around the house: his significantly larger TV screen in the lounge, his ugly recliner chair in front of it; a beer dispenser by the refrigerator and a whole stack of games and console machines in what was the become Tom’s new man cave. Giving the guy his own space vital to making this work, Oliver reasoned. He’d had to set his own ground rules as well; chief amongst them that Tom tried his best not to sit down on some of the older pieces of furniture Oliver had inherited from his grandmother. Given the size of the man’s ball-like stomach these days, Oliver suspected that his lover had already surpassed three hundred pounds as the couch began grumbling under his weight.

In no time at all, Oliver’s home soon became a casual refuge for Steve as well. Being that Tom only lived a few blocks away from his brother now, the two guys were seeing a lot more of each other than they had in the ten years since Steve had first moved out of their parents’ place. With some amusement, Oliver would chuckle to himself as he saw Tom letting the guy in to watch the football on TV. Steve would always be dressed like he was heading to the gym and Oliver suspected that that was exactly where his wife had been told he was going. Instead, he was sitting on the couch, gorging on take out pizzas with his brother, whilst shouting at the screen.

Steve had always carried a stubborn, stout little paunch the whole time Oliver had been dating Tom. However, after only three months of skipping the gym to watch sports with Tom, the guy had packed on a considerable amount of additional weight, rounding him out further and bloating up his face in the same way that Tom’s had in the early days of dating Oliver. Judging by the amount of take-out boxes and emptied cans Oliver could come down to in the morning, it was obvious that Steve was every bit as much of a glutton as Tom was. The results of all those excess calories were staggeringly similar as well: the swelling ball of stomach, the widening of the rear. The more the boys ate, the hungrier they seemed to become.

Tom’s gut appeared to enter the room before he did and his hips had swollen outwards in a way that had completely altered his shape. There had always been at least a hint of the guy’s former athleticism in his physique: the strong chest, the biceps, the jawline. Yet all of that had now melted away, being replaced by a puffing fatness that had coated Tom’s entire body. As he slouched in his chair, the great mass of stomach fat arched out in front of him, expanding into his lap; his pecs long since succumbing to the build up of blubber. At what must have been 350lbs, Oliver could not get over how attracted he was to the man: the sheer enormity and size of him; the great appetite and joy he seemed to get from his eating, without caring in the slightest about how his body was changing.

Oliver had asked Tom to marry him whilst they were on vacation together in Las Vegas. Tom had gorged himself the entire time, going from restaurant to restaurant, and when they had won a sizable amount of cash on their penultimate evening there, it felt like everything had slotted into place as they headed off to the tackiest looking chapel they could find.

However, as one marriage began, it seemed as if another was ending. Steve and Rachel clearly weren’t getting along, meaning that the poor, hapless guy was soon spending more and more time in Oliver and Tom’s spare bedroom. Oliver tried not to pry but it seemed obvious to him what the main catalyst was for the couple’s troubles.

“Don’t you think you should go easy on the pizzas later when you’re watching the game with Steve?” Oliver tried to ask. “You know what Rachel is like about his weight and it’s clear that she’s not happy about how much weight he’s gained.”

Tom shrugged. Even he couldn't deny how much weight his brother had packed on in the last few months. After all, he had taken to wearing many items of clothing that Tom had outgrown himself: the sweatpants, the t-shirts, the sweaters. “What’s the point? We all know they’re not getting back together.”

Oliver sighed. Given how much of Steve’s stuff had been filling up the spare bedroom, he had come to a similar conclusion.

“And so what if they do get a divorce? Steve’s already starting to realise how much nicer life is without her.” He looked at Oliver, trying to get a sense of what he was thinking. “Unless… you’re frustrated at having him here?” he asked, suddenly concerned. “You know my parents would let him stay with them if it’s all a bit too much?”

Oliver shook his head. That wasn’t the case at all. Ever since Tom had quit his job for an admin role, working from home, he had worried that Tom’s weight would start to come down, now that he wasn’t roaming from fast food joint to fast food joint during his working day. But with Steve around, the pair fuelled each other’s enthusiasm for tasty treats, with an inevitable, incredibly arousing impact on both their bodies. In the last few weeks alone, Tom’s thighs had appeared to explode with additional size, stretching the capacity of even his most casual sweatpants.

Steve’s attitude seemed to change the moment he found out that Rachel had started to date one of his old friends. Rather than being angry and bitter, it was as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He could at last move on, rejecting the guilt he felt and enjoy his life.

“Steve’s out again?” Oliver chuckled as he came in late one evening. “Another date? Who is it this time?”

Tom nodded as he dipped his hand into a large bag of potato chips. “Some girl he met online,” he replied. “A new one.”

Oliver smiled, pleased that Steve was proving to be such a hit with the ladies, even with his larger stomach these days.

When Steve finally did bring a girl home, both Oliver and Tom quietly confessed to each other their surprise over how good looking she was: petite, slim and large chested, the woman could have had any man she wanted; yet she seemed physically incapable of keeping her hands off her new chubby boyfriend. As for Steve, he seemed blissfully happy and pleased with himself, knowing that he had struck gold. Gina seemed like the girl he had been waiting for his entire life.

“Your Tom’s a big boy, isn’t he?” Gina smiled, watching as Oliver’s husband and Steve retreated into the lounge after dinner.

“I guess so,” Oliver smiled as he tidied up the table, still undecided about the woman his brother-in-law was dating.

“You two must get a lot of looks when you go out together? You’re both so different!”

Oliver resisted the urge to roll his eyes. So many folks didn’t understand how he could be so in love with a man almost two hundred pounds heavier than him; yet few lacked the tack to keep that curiosity to themselves. “I guess so,” he replied disinterestedly.

“My Steve has a pretty big tummy on him as well,” Gina blundered on, chuckling nervously.

“Well, I think my husband is partly to blame for that,” Oliver smiled back. “He’s been teaching him some pretty bad habits since Steve moved in here with us.”

Gina nodded enthusiastically back. “Yes, Steve’s been telling me! He split his pants at work the other day,” she chuckled.

“I’ve lost count of the amount of pants Tom’s destroyed over the years!” Oliver joked back.

“So, are the boys done eating for the night? Or do they usually snack now?”

Oliver looked at his watch and shook his head. “It’s only eight o’clock!” he replied as if Gina’s question had been utterly ridiculous. “Tom likes something to eat around ten or so. Usually it’s a pizza.”

“And does Steve join him?” Gina asked, almost excitedly.

“Of course,” Oliver nodded.

Gina turned, looking towards the lounge area, sighing with pleasure. “I think this living arrangement is going to work out very well for all of us!”

Oliver simply wiped down the kitchen counter as Gina skipped off to snuggle under Steve’s arm on the couch, not quite understanding exactly what the woman had meant.

A couple of weeks later, Oliver nudged his husband as Steve came down the stairs ready to head out for dinner with Gina. His eyes had bulged at the tight shirt the guy was wearing; his stout, rounded stomach already straining the buttons. 

“You can’t let him wear that!” Oliver whispered, panicking as he saw Steve grabbing his keys. “Tell him it’s too tight!”

Tom looked up from his heaped plate of cheese and savoury biscuits, balanced on top of the shelf of stomach fat he had accumulated. He saw the ridiculous shirt and smirked to himself. “Have a good evening, buddy!” he called out, letting the guy leave without a word of protest.

“How could you let him go out like that?” Oliver cried, utterly shocked by his husband’s lack of caring.

Tom merely laughed to himself. “You worry far too much about him. Trust me, Steve knows exactly what he’s doing!”

Oliver paused, never quite knowing how far to pry into the brothers’ relationship. They got along better than any other siblings he had ever known and were certainly a lot closer than Oliver had ever been with his especially aloof older sister. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

Tom seemed to ponder how best to answer as he continued eating. “Well, Gina is quite forthcoming when it comes to her appreciation of the extra weight he’s been carrying lately. I imagine he’s going to get very lucky tonight when she sees him in that tight shirt!”

“Gina likes it?” Oliver asked, feeling a lot more surprised than he should reasonably have been, considering all the compliments he had heard the girl giving the chubby boy.

“Of course,” Tom nodded. “She wants him bigger.”

“She… what?” Oliver gasped. 

“Oh, come on!” Tom chuckled. “You can’t pretend you’re not exactly the same. It’s just like how you get off on my… what is it you say? My ‘big, manly appetite.’”

“That’s not quite the same thing,” Oliver mumbled, slightly embarrassed. 

“Well, Gina thinks it is,” Tom replied. “Her and Steve talk about it quite a lot. She thinks you enable me to gain weight because you enjoy it.”

Oliver blushed. He never lied to Tom, yet if he opened his mouth at that moment, he wouldn’t have been able to help one from slipping out, denying everything. “And what do you think?” was all he asked.

“I just think I’m a greedy boy who eats far too much,” Tom smirked. “But I do think that might be part of the reason why you married me…”

Tom’s responses were light and jovial, relaxing Oliver as he came to terms with the fact he would have to own up to his kinkier side. “But, I don’t make you wear tight clothes that people will make fun of you for,” he replied, trying to shift the spotlight back onto Gina instead.

“No,” Tom nodded in agreement. “But you’re hardly stopping me from outgrowing everything, are you?”

Oliver merely stared at his husband for a few moments as he finished up the last of his pre-dinner snack; all those additional calories and fats he had prepared for his husband. He’d been outed as a chubby chaser. “So how big does Gina want Steve to get?” he asked.

Tom pressed his thumb into the plate, picking up all the leftover crumbs, before sucking them off. “They’ve had some very kinky conversations about just that,” the big man nodded. “She makes these special shakes for him, loaded with calories! Then she sucks him off whilst he downs it all for her.”

“And Steve is okay with that?” Oliver questioned, trying to hold back his surprise.

“Did you not hear the bit about the blow job?” Tom chuckled. “He’s a guy. Of course he loves it.”

Tom’s casual nature was making it harder for Oliver to unpick how the man really felt about all this. His brother had fallen into a feedist relationship and yet Tom seemed utterly delighted for him. “Are you saying that’s something you’d like us to try?” he finally asked.

“I’d drink one of those shakes for you, no problem,” Tom nodded enthusiastically. “Especially if it came with some benefits…You should get the recipe from Gina. I’m sure she’d happily share.”

“And you’d find that exciting?”

Tom scoffed, not prepared to let his husband hide behind the mask of his supposedly naive enabling anymore. “We’d both get off on that, and you know it!” he laughed. “Frankly, I’d love it if you were a little more vocal about enjoying my appetite; like Gina is with Steve.”

At that moment, a knock came at the door, just as Oliver was trying to take in the enormity of the casual comments his husband had just made. Dazed, he walked off to the entrance way and opened the door up to the visitors they had been expecting.

“Jeez!” exclaimed Dex, fresh from a year-long trip to New Zealand with his girlfriend, Marie. “We just saw Steve heading out as we pulled up,” he rambled, having met Oliver and Tom as a couple only once before heading off on their trip. “I can’t believe how much weight he’s…”

Tom waddled in from around the corner, ready to see one of the only friends he still kept from high school, simultaneously shutting Dex’s ramblings down in an instant as the guy saw just how enormous Tom had grown. His girlfriend’s eyes bulged too; the pair of them trying to contain their surprise.

“Hey… hey there, buddy!” Dex cried, walking over to Tom and giving him the briefest of hugs. His voice was unsure and it was obvious how uncomfortable he felt to have been caught commenting on Steve’s weight gain, given how much more extremely Tom had grown. That giant gut really was the only thing anyone ever saw.

Oliver looked at the pair, not really understanding why Tom still kept in touch with them. Dex was every bit the high school jock he had once been; Marie a moderately successful social media influencer. They’d travelled the world, worked in several different countries, declaring that they could never imagine anything worse than living an insignificant life back home in the small towns where they had grown up. It was exactly the sort of ego that Oliver had disliked about Dex back in high school. Meanwhile, Tom lived for his pizzas and take-outs. He worked from home and had little interest in anything that involved getting up off his couch. How many days had it been since Tom had even bothered to leave the house?

It was easy to become blind to Tom’s size ever since Oliver lived with him each day. But with Dex there, alongside his petite girlfriend, the contrast was clearer than ever. Since when had Tom’s face become so massive? Did regular folks like Dex and Marie really eat such small portions? It had been a little while since Tom had started sitting at the head of the table, instead of at the side by Oliver. However, as the four of them were sitting that evening, it was more than obvious that the seating position was purely to accommodate Tom’s giant size. Oliver had to lean over and plate Tom's meal up for him, catching Dex and Marie glancing with concern at each other at just how much food Oliver was naturally piling onto their friend’s plate.

The conversation quickly became dominated by uninteresting anecdotes from the high flying couple’s global adventures. Oliver could tell that Tom wasn’t really listening; neither of them were. Oliver simply kept a keen eye on Tom’s plate, spooning on more of the different items as they started to get low. It was second nature to him now. However, from the little, uneasy pauses Dex made each time Oliver did so, his disapproval was getting ever closer to the surface. But the more Dex and Marie rambled on, the less concerned Oliver felt about upsetting them. It seemed like their egos had inflated tenfold with a little social media success. They spoke as if they were the authority on several issues, with an arrogance inside them that they both seemed completely oblivious to. 

Oliver slopped more food onto Tom’s plate. His husband was eating well; most likely because there was no opportunity for him to join in the conversation. If he kept it up, Oliver wouldn’t have to plate up any leftovers later. All the serving bowls could go straight in the dishwasher. He knew he was overfacing Tom by emptying the last of the cream and cheese potato dish out for him, but it was worth a shot, given that Steve wasn’t there to help out, as well as the fact that Marie and Dex had avoided it; seeming to know how calorie laden it was.

Afterwards, Tom stretched out and rubbed his swollen stomach with a grunt whilst Oliver dutifully cleared the table around him. He’d made a giant, hearty dish of sticky toffee sponge, leaving it out in the middle of the table for Marie and Dex to serve themselves. Unused to waiting for guests to be served first, Oliver tried to hold back a small chuckle as he heard his gluttonous husband swallowing back saliva as he watched on. Finally, the serving spoon was in Oliver’s hand, carving out a humongous portion and pressing it down until it fitted inside their oversized bowls. He’d made additional toffee sauce, pouring that on for Tom as well, before placing it down in front of him. The weight of it was obvious by the hefty ‘thunk’ it made onto the placemat; something that did not go unnoticed by the guests.

If there was one thing Oliver never had to worry about, it was Tom’s sweet tooth. But rarely had Oliver been so blatant as to start refilling his husband’s bowl the moment he dropped the spoon. The goal was simple: no leftovers. Having Dex and Marie there to witness it was even quietly thrilling.

“So, do you have any more plans for the house?” Marie asked, finally seeming to notice that they had been talking about themselves for over an hour by that point. “Last time we saw you, you mentioned wanting to extend out the back.”

Oliver shook his head. In truth, he’d lost a lot of his enthusiasm for the house ever since he’d met Tom. Houses and renovations were not the large man’s thing in the slightest. All Tom really cared about was having somewhere to rest his head at night. “I don’t think so,” Oliver replied, reaching under the table to rest his hand on Tom’s knee. “In truth, I can’t see us staying here for too much longer.”

“Oh, really?” Marie smiled back. “Are you guys thinking of moving out of town?”

“No, nothing like that,” Oliver shot back, realising that he hadn’t even discussed any of this with Tom. “But this place is old and has already been knocked around a fair bit. The shower is getting a little too small for Tom and there’s no way of making it larger unless we knock down the wall into one of the guest bedrooms. It’s a lot of work.”

“Or…” Dex began, looking at them both like they were simple, “...you could just put him on a diet.”

Oliver was surprised at the slight glee he felt at making Dex bite. Tom was busily scraping his bowl clean, determined to get every last crumb; oblivious. “Oh, I think that ship has sailed, don’t you?” Oliver chuckled, exchanging his husband’s empty bowl for the entire bowl that remained in the middle of the table. He lifted the jug of extra toffee sauce, emptying it entirely, before passing Tom his spoon back and slipping his hand under the table once more to rub his husband’s knee. His silent meaning was clear: eat it all.

Steve’s disgust was evident on his face as he simply watched his old friend annihilating the entirety of the remaining dessert without a thought. All three spectators were observing the masterful glutton taking on the sugary feast without even noticing he was being watched; the conversation halted. Oliver could hardly believe how erotic he found it and he was thankful that he was wearing an oversized sweater that covered his crotch as he stood up to collect yet another fresh soda for his husband. He imagined how boring it would be to be lumbered with a fit guy like Dex. Oliver knew he’d have to fatten him up with his calorie dense food and quiet enabling, until he got what he wanted; exactly as he had done with Tom, and now his brother as well.

“Check out this pic I found of us from high school,” Dex insisted, fumbling with his phone. “I found it the other day,” he explained, filling the silence as he clicked and swiped his way to it. Finally, he turned it around for Oliver and Tom to see: two handsome, shirtless jocks with glistening six packs by the pool. “Look at the pair of us! Man, I miss those care-free days!” Dex chuckled fondly.

Oliver tried to suppress a chuckle. Dex’s true intentions hadn’t been clearer, reminding his old friend of how fit he used to be.

“I don’t!” Tom grunted in reply between large mouthfuls. “I never liked being on the swim team. In fact, I haven’t stepped foot in a swimming pool since I graduated.”

“Seriously?” Marie asked in surprise. “In over ten years?” Given how many poolside selfies there were of her, it was a wonder she didn’t have gills.

“Tom’s not big on exercise,” Oliver confirmed, shaking his head.

Realising the conversation wasn’t going anywhere, Dex returned his cell phone to his pocket. “Dude, you’re starting to look like your dad,” he finally snapped as Tom began scraping the bowl for the last of the toffee sauce. 

Having cleared some plates, Oliver was just making his way back to the table as he said it, making him chuckle as he rubbed his husband’s large back proudly. “Actually, Tom can eat even more than his dad these days,” he smiled, as if this was an achievement to be proud of.

Tom, who seemed to be finally switching back onto the conversation now his food was all but gone, nodded in agreement.

Dex had clearly expected more negativity from his comment and he looked at Marie as if they were both thinking the same thing. He gazed down at his watch and Marie nodded subtly in agreement.

“Thanks for dinner,” Dex sighed, already getting up. “But we have to be up early tomorrow for our flight.”

Oliver beamed. He had thought he was stuck with the pair of them all evening. “Oh, we understand,” he nodded, hoping to sound disappointed. Then he looked down at a still seated Tom, waiting for him to echo his words of regret. However, Tom seemed far more concerned with the tightness of his stomach after downing such a large amount from his fresh soda. He rubbed at his stomach and looked almost like he might throw up, before a giant burp came rolling up from his throat. Sighing with relief, Tom grunted as he rose to his feet as well; his stomach so bloated that the underside of it was visible from the bottom of his t-shirt.

No one hugged in goodbye. Dex seemed disgusted and, at the same time, pitying towards his old friend. Tom raised his great arm and Oliver slid underneath, resting against the man’s bulk as the pair stood just outside the house and waved the pretty couple off. “Do you think we frightened them away?” Tom whispered as the car rumbled off the driveway. “You’ve never made me eat like that before,” he chuckled.

“It was more entertaining than listening to all their boring stories,” Oliver replied, trying not to move his mouth so much that the couple would have the chance to read his lips as they backed out onto the road. “Did you enjoy it, though?” he smirked, raising his hand for the final wave to Dex and Marie.

Tom didn’t reply. He simply trotted his way back into the house and embraced his husband in a giant kiss the moment the front door was closed behind them. Oliver was the one who pulled off Tom’s shirt, feeling a freedom now to enjoy the giant size of his glutton’s stomach that he hadn’t allowed himself before now.

“You like?” Tom asked, standing proudly and full of confidence, even pushing his fat tummy out a little more.

“I do!” Oliver nodded, slipping down onto his knees in order to kiss the giant mass. 

Tom grunted in approval, seizing the opportunity to lower his sweatpants and feed his stiff and buried hardness into Oliver’s mouth. He moaned loudly as Oliver settled to his work with such relish, rubbing his enormous stomach as if his own size was turning him on. As Oliver’s tongue worked him harder, Tom’s stomach rubbing only became more frantic and desperate, taking a hand to each side of it and bouncing it up and down.

“You’re never going to put me on a diet, are you?” Tom asked, his voice dripping with lust.

Oliver briefly pulled his mouth from Tom’s crotch to reply. “Never,” he teased back, noticing that Tom’s dick was even harder by the time he got it back between his lips. 

The next time Oliver came up for breath, he pulled Tom along towards the couch, letting the fat boy down on his back, legs splayed, as Oliver set back to pleasuring him. In this position, Tom seemed to be enjoying himself even more; moaning loudly and rubbing his giant gut like it was an enormous wrecking ball pinning him down. There was almost no effort required to make the man ejaculate.

Afterwards, Oliver looked on at his husband with a satisfaction that no orgasm could give him. Naked and well-catered for, Tom had fallen asleep in the same position he had landed in during the blow job; a giant, fat slug draped over the couch that constantly creaked under his weight. The fat under his chin had made his neck disappear in this position and a contented, calm expression filled his face as he dozed. This was the reason Oliver loved his size and greed so much; for only he could deliver this sort of bliss to a glutton like Tom: his perfect man.

Only eighteen months later, Tom stood, filling his plate full of items from the buffet table at his brother’s wedding. It had been a long day for the guy, being the Best Man, with plenty of time up on his feet for the photographs. Oliver watched on, admiring the sheer size of his husband’s rear from afar. There was something so cute that happened to those glutes once a man crossed five hundred pounds. They were so plush and soft, yet grotesquely oversized and extreme-looking, especially in the tight dress pants Tom had been made to wear that day. He wasn’t used to such restrictive clothes, and he wriggled and twitched in them the entire time, silently longing to get back into his sweatshorts which wouldn’t pinch him like these pants did.

There had come a point a few months back when Oliver and Tom had decided to take a step back from the deliberately fattening regime Tom had seemed to take himself on. To some extent, it had worked. Tom was no longer growing at the rate that he had been. However,  there was no denying the fact that the man was indeed still growing. Those unplanned pounds had made his body swell and soften in a way that none of the previous weight ever had before. His upper arms had ballooned with fat and his hips had widened so that he had broken more than a few chairs. It had been fat building upon already well established fat. Of course it was going to change his shape, thought Oliver, rolling his eyes as Tom finally began to have second thoughts once even his parents had shown some concern. But the weight was still finding him; still sliding onto his overfed physique and quietly arousing them both by the seemingly uncontrollable nature of it all.

Steve, and his new wife emerged onto the dance floor. It was almost pitiable to watch her dragging such a fat man out to dance with her. With such a hectic day, Steve had become dishevelled and a little sweaty; his large shirt untucking itself in all but a couple of places around his large circumference. His blossoming love handles an underbelly showing in just the same Tom’s had only one hundred pounds earlier. As for his new wife, she seemed to be loving every minute, showing off the giant, spherical man she could now call her own. Without much family to Gina’s name, the guest list seemed saturated with friends of hers with similarly bloated, overfed husbands; most likely undergoing the same transformation that Steve was under a feeder’s care. Oliver had seen them all looking across at him, nodding in approval at Tom’s size, as if they were all a part of the same strange and unspoken club.

“Are you not coming to watch?” Oliver asked his overstuffed husband, wiping his mouth after completing his monstrous mountain of buffet food.

Tom shook his head lazily, pretending to want to rest his feet.

Oliver smirked, spotting the vast quantities of pre-cut wedding cake sitting on the table not far away and knowing that Tom was secretly plotting a way to get more than his fair share whilst everyone was distracted. Indeed, if there was one thing Oliver could always rely upon, it was Tom’s sweet tooth.

“Okay, honey,” Oliver smiled, pretending not to have figured out his gluttonous husband’s real intentions. “You just rest here for a minute,” he smiled, turning his back so that Tom could quietly gorge himself, unnoticed by everyone else in the room. Given how well the man had been eating today, there’d certainly be fresh fat to explore on his body by tomorrow morning….

Life was sweet.

[servicpop]

nude beach adrien ( deliquent oc ) x ftm reader

ⓘ⠀reader has top surgery , use of cunt & pussy , fingering , public ( on beach )

Tans, seashells, crisp soda and icecream, perfect for a hot sunny day.

It was an idea pitched by one of your friends to hold a class beach day, and as the student president, you agreed and began to plan. The message you sent into the class group chat was bombarded with positive replies the moment you mentioned the word 'beach.' It seemed like alot of your classmates either wanted to escape studying or needed a break to cool off.

A familiar icon popped up underneath your message, Adrien's, but he didn't reply so you just guessed he would skip this event out too.

Stuffed in a car with all your friends, you allocated each friend to bring different things like drinks, food, beach balls and towels. You were in charge of packing the beach umbrellas and foldable chairs.

It was about a 3 hour trip to a beach nearby; one that wouldn't be bombarded with little children and an abundance of people.

When you got there with your friends — a little earlier than the set time — you took the initiative to start helping out with things and putting down your chairs and umbrellas. As you're hauling out the items from the trunk, you could faintly hear the raspy sound of someone calling out.

“Adrien, give me a hand here!” Your head instinctively turns to meet eyes with that stupid deliquent who seems to always show up wherever you are.

He was unusually early, perhaps earlier than you.

Adrien shoots you a toothy smirk before turning back to his buddy, helping the guy lift a cooler filled with sodas and probably beer as well. You shrug him off with a small scoff, rolling your eyes before going back to set up your things

You've successfully put up an umbrella and a deck chair away from the water, letting your body relax on the chair.

You weren't even planning on swimming today but you brought a shirt and some swim shorts just in case you wanted to just dip your feet into the icy water and feel the waves crash against your knees.

Staring out to the shore you watch as your friends run into the water, splashing and kicking sand up st eachother. You would join but, swimming wasn't something you particularly liked, especially the feeling of your wet swimsuit sticking to your skin.

“What are you doing all alone, prez?” His voice comes out smooth and almost tantalizing as a hand slides over your shoulder. You flinch harshly, whipping your head around to see Adrien in his full glory, shirt off, slightly damp hair and crystal clear water droplets gliding down the curves of his muscles.

Before you could say anything, Adrien pulls up another chair and slides it right beside you. The wooden bits of the deck chair clink together and he lowers himself on it with a small sigh of relief.

“The boys are playing like gladiators out there, felt like I was gonna die,” He laughs and you see his chest stutter as he does. He lets his head rest on his hand, elbow jutted out as he turns to face you.

“But really, why aren't you swimming? I'd love to see you shirtless and wet.” You roll your eyes and scoff, shaking your head as you stretch out your legs.

“I just don't feel like it,” You hum nonchalantly which earns a breathless laugh from Adrien. He places a hand on your stomach, inching closer to you. His fingers lightly drum on your stomach, earning that slight hollow sound.

He flicks your shirt up and burrows his hand underneath it, making a slow ascend to your chest, tracing over the raised lines underneath it.

“They're healed enough,” he points out, “Just let me see them.”

Your eyes quickly dart around, making sure that no one is watching. The beach stretches out quite far so the majority of the people were situated towards the middle with you and Adrien being in a more empty area.

You don't fight it, you just look away as he pulls up the shirt to your chin. The cool ocean breeze hits your bare chest, pulling out a view shivers from you. Adrien has seen your scars, multiple times but its always a surprise to see how his eyes soften and how he caresses them so delicately.

“Y'know people won't care if you just swim shirtless, you're a dude it doesn't matter,” He's leaning his head over to kiss your scars in which you push his face away. He laughs and moves his hands back down to rest on your lower stomach.

“You should get out of here before anyone sees you talking with me,” You manage to breathe out, moving your hand to his, attempting to pry them off your exposed skin. Being in such an open area with all your classmates undoubtedly gets you anxious, especially considering how long you've kept your relationship with Adrien a secret.

“Why? People can't handle me spending time with my boyfriend?” It just rolls off his tongue the way he claims you're his — even when you're not.

You're about to retaliate, about to shout whatever insult that comes to mind but you feel his hand move down to cup your crotch. Your body jerks at the touch and you shoot him a glare but he returns it with a sly smile.

“You're not my boyfriend,” you manage to force the words out your throat.

“Yeah but can any guy make you feel like this?” His fingers dig into the fabric of your shorts, pushing pressure onto your cunt. You can't help the curses that flow from your lips and the fact that you're arching your back into his hands.

“They don't know how to treat you right, only I can,” You can hear the jealousy drip off his tone like honey on a stick: thick and sickly sweet.

His fingers are brought back up and now he's pulling at your waistband, dipping his fingers underneath your shorts. His hand just glides over the smooth expanse of your pelvis, dipping down to your sweet, slick sex. Adrien starts by parting your folds with his index and his ring finger, skimming his middle over your fluttering hole.

You're so wet he can hear every movement his finger makes on you.

His thumb finds your clit, pushing the tip of it against that bundle of nerves. He's massaging circles on it, punching out a loud whine from your throat.

“Shit cutie, you're sensitive there?” He laughs, moving his hand lower so he could press his palm against it. Your little mewls and the way you grip onto the side of the chair so tightly makes Adrien want to rip your clothes off and fuck the daylights out of you, but he can't, he'll get caught almost instantly.

His fingers finally meet your hole, pushing in one finger slowly. You gasp, hips rolling up to grind your clit against his palm as he stuffs his finger into you. Adrien laughs again like he's having fun drawing all these reactions out of you.

Your warm, gummy walls hug his finger so snugly he has to slip in another one just to loosen you up a bit. He groans, driving his middle and ring finger into you. Everytime he pulls them back and slams them in your legs tremble and that obscene wet noise rings through his head like the aftermath of a drug.

“You like that prez? Such a good boy f'me aren't you?” Adrien bites his own, chapped lips, repeatedly ramming his fingers into you, watching as you laid your head back and let the moans spill out from your parted lips. The moment he starts curling his fingers up your body tenses and you absent-mindedly grab onto his forearm.

You're seeing stars with the way he's hitting your G-spot every single time he drives his fingers deeper into you.

“Fuck— ah– Adrien,” You cry out, moving your hand down to push down on his, encouraging him to put more pressure on your pussy. He gladly obliges, moving his fingers faster and pushing his palm against your clit with more force than before.

The familiar feeling of a knot wells up in the pit of your stomach and you know you're about to cum.

“C'mon, that's it.” Adrien can tell you're close from the quivering of your knees and the way sweat trickles down your forehead. He kisses the salt away before groaning as he feels his fingers get soaked from your orgasm.

He pumps his fingers slowly, letting you ride out your high before stopping completely.

“Shit, let me eat you out next tim—”

“Stop talking.”

doctors note ; hope i did alright for my first time writing for ftm reader T T

[capricornlevi]

nsfw, mdni

your study-buddy choso who shares three of your postgrad classes, who took about three months to start up a conversation despite you waving at him every morning as he sat at the desk next to you. it took another month for him to ask if you wanted to meet for coffee, and it wasn't until winter break that you came to your current arrangement of meeting for two hours every second night to help each other with assignments.

after that, you took pity on him; it wasn't fair for you to expect him to make all the first moves.

and so, at your university's valentines party, you'd been the one to close the distance and pull him in for a kiss, feeling him stiffen with surprise before relaxing into it, his silver tongue piercing brushing against your lower lip and making you shiver.

since then, you'd managed a balance: every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday night you study together, and every Tuesday and Thursday, you work out your stresses together. this usually consists of choso driving his hips into yours until your throat is hoarse from crying out his name, or going down on each other until your legs are too shaky to support you.

sometimes, especially around midterms, you do weekends, too.

but recently, things have gotten a bit blurry. it started when he kissed you goodbye on Monday, which was unusual but not unpleasant. then, on Wednesday, you felt his hands drift to the small of your back as he guided you out through the library bookshelves, his thumb tracing soft circles against the exposed skin above the waistband of your jeans.

and now it's friday night in the library, the atmosphere quiet and studious as always, but even though he had his face buried between your thighs not twenty-four hours ago, you can't help but want more,

as the clock ticks closer to midnight, you worry he's lost his nerve. maybe he's realised things work better with rigid boundaries. or maybe (and your stomach drops at the thought) ... maybe he's losing interest. maybe there's someone else.

but then you feel his fingers brush against your thigh - you'd worn the same skirt you'd worn on valentines, shamefully hoping he'd notice - and they don't stop there, trailing up slowly and slowly until they're --

you gasp as his index finger trails over your underwear, glancing around to make sure you're alone on the library floor.

you are.

"want me to stop?" he asks gently, mistaking your caution for reticence. you shake your head no before the words even settle in the air.

when choso's fingers slip inside you, you bite down on your lip to keep quiet, your back arching against the uncomfortable wooden chair as your thighs spread under the table.

you should feel embarrassed, ready to cum on choso's fingers in public, especially since you've been hooking up for weeks now. he shouldn't still have this effect on you.

but he does, and when you finally come down from the high, when he finally pulls his hand away from your puffy clit only to be rushed into packing up his books so you can escape to your apartment and return the favour, you realise those original rules are now dead in the water.

and you can't wait.

[lulunothulu]

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Robert “Bob” Floyd x Latina Reader

Summary: Bob doesn’t drink but when he does, he turns into Hangman 2.0

Content: flirty Bob, 18+ some touching, kissing

For the sake of this fic, you’re a beautiful Latina baddie also bc I’m selfish and wanna see more Latina rep. in fics lol

Hard deck was unusually louder than any other Friday night. There were ten times more people here because of Labor Day weekend and Bob didn’t know if he liked it or not.

“Baby On Board!” Jake shouts over the noise. “Why don’t you drink and mingle? Maybe finding a girl to fuck will do something good for you.”

Bob could smell the alcohol on Jake’s breath and he pinched his lips together.

I guess one night of drinking wouldn’t hurt.

Bob didn’t drink often. He wasn’t really a fan of the taste of beer, he preferred something fruity but drinking that in front of Jake would’ve definitely riled him up.

So instead, Bob took the beer Jake handed him and began to sip on it. Next thing he knew he was five beers in and smiling like an idiot at Natasha.

“What’re you smiling at?” She asks, a smile on her face.

“I think I wanna go mingle,” he slurs, looking around the room at all the beautiful women.

He stops when his eyes fall on her. She’s sitting in the back corner of the bar, laughing at something her friends say before her own eyes meet his.

He was in shock. She was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Big brown eyes so dark they were almost onyx, head full of unruly dark chocolate curls that fell down her back…and that smile. God that smile could’ve made a man melt right then and there.

“I’m talking to her,” Bob says as he begins to walk toward the beautiful girl he just laid eyes on.

~*~*~*~

You were sitting on a stool, sipping on the last of your beer as your friends talked about the aviators to your left.

“Hey, Y/N,” your friend Kate slurs. “There’s a cute guy coming your way.”

You turn to your right to see a man in the khaki uniform Aviators in the Navy wear. His eyes are dark blue, basically navy. On his thin lips, a sloppy smile appears when you finally make eye contact with him.

“He’s cute,” you tell them.

“And he’s coming,” Kate laughs.

“Hi,” the man says, a hand placed on the table next to you. “I’m Bob.”

He’s even more handsome up close. His glasses are pushed down the bridge of his nose, so you reach up and lightly push them back up.

“Hi, Bob,” you respond. “I’m Y/N.”

“I saw you over there,” he starts, pointing to where his buddies watch. “And thought you were the most gorgeous woman in this bar.”

You blush and smile. “Thank you, you’re not too bad yourself.”

He blushes at your remark but leans in and whispers, “Wanna dance?”

~*~*~*~

A dance turned into two dances, and then those two dances turned into three dances, including your ass pressed up against his already hard dick—which then turned into you pulling Bob into a dark hallway.

His large hands desperately grasped at your hips, sliding up your body and tangling at your scalp. His lips expertly searching and hungrily chasing after yours to deepen the kiss.

To him, you were soft in so many ways. From your soft lips to the smoothness of your skin, Bob wanted to stay here. Hell, he’d live in this dark hallway if he could.

His hands rake down your sides again, they stay at the waistband of your jeans.

“Can I?” He asks, playing with the button.

“Please do.”

His fingers move quickly as they unbutton and unzip your jeans before his right hand slides down the front of your pants. They move between the slickness between your folds and you moan in agonizing want.

“You’re so wet already,” he groans.

His fingers move in a circular motion over your clit, pleasure ringing and erupting all over your body.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” he whispers in your ear.

“I want you to fuck me with your fingers,” you whisper back, surprising yourself in the process.

He smiles against you, snaking two fingers lower into your jeans before sliding up and into you.

He moves them slowly, making sure you’re comfortable with his touch. But when you start to groan and grind against his fingers, he quickens his pace—kissing and sucking on your neck.

You wrap your arms around his neck, lifting a leg and feeling his other hand hold it up for you. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

“Yeah? You want me to make you come?” The vibration of his deep voice against your neck, sends a shiver down your spine and all you can do is nod.

Bob chuckles before quickening his pace inside you. It’s like his fingers know exactly where you need him to hit because each pound, every movement, is hitting exactly where you need him to be.

“I’m so close,” you moan.

“Come for me baby,” he groans. “Come on my fingers like a good girl.”

Obediently, you feel your body writhe in pleasure before shuddering an orgasm.

But Bob doesn’t stop.

He continues pumping into you, only stopping after you grab his wrist and pull his lips to yours.

“Keep doing that and I’ll be done for the night,” you mutter against his lips.

He pulls away, looking down at the beauty below him and is instantly struck with how beautiful you are up close. He realized it while you both were dancing, but the feel of your body grinding against him was clouding his brain. 

“You’re beautiful,” he rasps.

You blink up at him. “Are you saying that because you want me to go home with you?”

“N-no! Well I-I wouldn’t mind,” he stutters. He clears his throat, searching your eyes before smirking. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

When your sweet laugh reaches his ears, he realizes you were joking and leans down close to your ear.

“You could definitely come home with me if that’s what you want.”

“Can we?” You ask sweetly, redoing your zipper and button. 

Bob leans down to kiss you one last time, grinding his hips against yours.

“Absolutely.”

“Then take me home, Bob.” You tell him. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He kisses you one last time before taking your hand and guiding you to the exit door.

Multiple people (your friends and his) whooping as you both walk out. 

Listen, I was in the mood for some Bob and let me tell you this has been in the works for the past week because I just could not get into it. So I apologize if it seems like this is all over the place. I just needed to get finger banged by Bob 😏



[shiraishi-mai]

[7:40pm]

“Where is he?” You asked softly. Your eyes roamed across the volleyball members occupying the hallway before looking back at the boy beside you. 

Osamu looked at you with a grim look and stuck his thumb behind him. “Sitting in the locker room. There shouldn’t be anybody else in there right now.” 

You nodded. “Thanks ‘Samu.” 

He dipped his chin in response before continuing to pack his duffle bag. There was a somber tone amongst the team as they began to slowly make their way out of the building. 

You headed to the locker room, slightly dragging your feet along the way. Once you were faced with the pale grey door, you found yourself hesitating to open it and laid your hand flat on its surface. Sighing, you turned around and leaned your back against it. What were you doing here? 

“Sooo what’s going on there?” Your friend had asked a few weeks ago while grinning like a Cheshire cat. You both had just watched a yellow-haired boy cheerfully wave at you through the classroom window before heading to his own class. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you opted to stare straight ahead at the board.

“Oh c’mon. You and Miya have been acting all buddy-buddy recently.”

“Yep because we’re buddies.” You began to doodle on the corner of your notebook. 

Your friend snorted.  “When did that happen?”

You couldn’t help but smile softly at the memory of meeting Atsumu for the first time. Your friend was right - Atsumu and you used to have an awful relationship. 

You had started Inarizaki a bit later than everyone else. Your family had decided to move into the area after your father had a job transfer, and so you found yourself the awkward new student a few months after the school year had begun. Volleyball tryouts had already passed, but the coach had seen you play at your previous middle school and graciously accepted you after giving you a chance to play a practice game with the rest of the team. The girls were amazing and you found yourself right at home with them - something you were thankful for since you weren’t looking forward to making friends from scratch. 

You knew the boy’s volleyball team at Inarizaki was excellent, therefore when the captain needed someone to accompany her to run an errand to the other gym, you eagerly volunteered. You hadn’t had a chance to see them in action and were dying to get a peek at their practice to see just how good they were. 

An orange court identical to the one the girls practised in greeted your eyes as you both stepped in the building and your captain turned to you upon entering the gym. 

“Just wait here while I go talk to their coach!”

You nodded and curiously began to watch the practice. The familiar sounds of sneakers squeaking and balls hitting the floor put you at ease and a starstruck expression crossed your face as you saw a tall, darker-skinned boy spike.

“Oi.”

Another boy with a leaner figure and slanted eyes spiked with a weird twist to his form and your eyes widened. That was unusual. Impressive.

“Oi.” 

I KNOW someone is NOT trying to get my attention by saying ‘Oi’. Who is this uncouth- 

You turned to see a boy with yellow hair and an unamused expression on his face. 

“Yes?” you said sweetly.

“Cheerleading tryouts aren’t in this gym,” he said shortly. 

The fuck? 

Okay, technically you and your captain were wearing ponytail holders with ribbons in Inarizaki colours and you both hadn’t changed out of your regular PE tracksuit, so you could maybe see where he might have gotten that. 

“Excuse me?”

“This is a volleyball court.” He spoke in a tone that implied that you were a bit slow.  

No shit Sherlock. “I’m not looking for tryouts.” 

He groaned in exasperation and put his hands on his hips. “Well if you’re looking to watch our practice, we can’t have an audience today. We’re going over some serious stuff and don’t need any distractions.” He turned and left you with your hand half raised and mouth open before you could respond.

“These pigs just think they can crash practice when they don’t even care about volleyball…” 

Pigs.

Pigs?? 

Who the fuck does he think he is?? This little- 

Okay, you know what, breathe y/n. Don’t do anything rash. Remember what your therapist said.

You felt a faint tap on your foot and looked down to see a stray volleyball had rolled over to you. 

I really shouldn’t. You thought, picking up the ball and ran a finger along the curves and dips. 

This is a bad idea. You tossed the ball in the air. 

Well, when life gives you lemons. You hopped and felt a satisfying smack as you hit the ball towards the back wall. 

Now, the intention was to hit the area beside the offensive boy and give him a little scare, however you forgot that your hits tended to curve a bit (a problem you were trying to fix).

So you watched, horrified, as the ball flew straight towards the boy.

It was almost like the trajectory itself was in slow motion but sped up as it impacted and there was a dull thud sound as it hit his back.

“OW!”

He turned around, eyes flashing and mouth curled angrily. 

“Oh god I’m so sorry.” 

Is what you meant to say. But you had your pride and also had kind of already committed to going down this path. 

“L/n y/n,” you said, matching his glare. “[insert favourite vball position here]. Nice to meet you.” 

The noises from the gym all halted and the air was still as the other members of the team stared at the scene. 

The boy with the slanted yellow eyes and middle parted hair snorted which prompted the boy beside him to begin laughing as well. You were stunned to see the same face except framed with grey hair. 

There’s another one??

There was a sudden ‘eep’ noise and you felt someone rush over beside you. “Oh my goodness I’m so sorry.”

Your captain grabbed the back of your head and wrenched your head down into a bow. “We’re so sorry. RIGHT?”

You yelped when you paused and she sharply tugged on one ear.

“Yes, my apologies.” You muttered. 

The girl dragged you out of the gym berating you but sighed and ran a hand down her face as you recounted what had happened.

“Honestly I guess I can’t blame you too much. That was Miya Atsumu.”

“Oooh he’s one of the Miya twins.” They were first-years like you but already quite famous around the school.

She nodded. “Osamu is fairly nice but Atsumu is known for being…difficult.” 

You snorted. “Seems like it.”

“He’s a damn good setter though,” she continued.

“Still,” you frowned. “This sport is about teamwork. You can’t be too difficult or else the team can’t function.” 

“Agreed,” she said before narrowing her eyes and looking at you from the side. “Though I’ll make you eat your words if that temper of yours makes an appearance on our team.” 

You shuddered before walking quickly ahead of her back to the girls’ gym. 

—-------------------------------------------------------

After that, your interactions with Atsumu Miya didn’t get much better. 

It didn’t help that he was in the class next door to yours. Everytime you met in the halls (which happened a good amount of times during the week) snide remarks were exchanged. 

“Oh look, it's the school’s kpop star,” you said drily when you exited the classroom for lunch and found yourself, yet again, in front of him. “Raaah raah.” 

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Don’t you expect to hear crowd noises everywhere you go? You’re always strutting around like you’re the shit and eating up the attention people give you. Well until they start messing with your serves,” you smirked. “It’s too bad you aren’t good enough to not be so easily distracted.” 

He looked at his twin beside him. “I told you, squealing pigs.” 

“At least I don’t go around grunting like a giant ape.”

The lanky boy whose name you learned was Suna tried to hide a snicker behind his hand.

“Well I almost didn't give someone a CONCUSSION.”

“Oh please,” you turned away from him and waved your hand in a shooing motion. “Your head is too thick to get a concussion.” 

“Tch more like your spike is too weak for it.”

“What did you say??” You whipped back around only for a teammate of yours to magically materialise and drag you away by the collar. News of your ostensible assault to Atsumu had spread amongst both teams and your incredible dislike for him was well-known by now. 

“I fucking dare you to show up to practice Miya and see for yourself it that’s true!”

“Hai hai that’s enough,” your teammate said tiredly and you crossed your arms, fuming, as you saw him sniggering before turning the corner. 

The students in your hallway quickly became accustomed to your face-offs, opting to give you two a wide berth whenever they occurred. Suna often stopped by to film and told you he was going to make a compilation of the best 10 fights at the end of the year. 

“He’s not that bad you know,” Osamu said, sipping on his drink. Your eyes rolled up to him from where you were lying down on the bench beside him. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

“He’s…passionate. With a one-track mind. I think it’s good you’re so direct to him. It’s the only way that really gets through to his stupid brain anyway.”

You laughed. “How are you guys so different?” Osamu was in your class and at first you had been wary of him - he did share Atsumu’s genes after all - but were relieved to find out he was actually super chill. 

“I didn’t wanna end up like him.” He said simply and you chuckled again before frowning. 

“It’s a shame…he plays beautifully though,” you said under your breath.

You didn’t notice Osamu side-eye you quickly with an eyebrow raised.

Inarizaki had one of their games recently and you were honestly a bit curious to see how the evil Miya played and also so you could see if he made any mistake for your own satisfaction. However, you had to admit that Atsumu was talented. He was reckless and got ahead of himself but his sets were perfect. Most of the time at least. They were the type that you knew spikers were itching to hit and you wondered what it’d be like to play with someone like him.

Definitely a shame. 

—-------------------------------------------------

Of all things, the school’s annual fall event was the reason your relationship with Atsumu improved. 

Your friend’s class was putting on a production and she asked you to help paint some of the set pieces as a few people had canceled on her last minute. 

“y/nnnnn pleasseee” your friend whined. 

“I spend 90% of my life at school and the one free Saturday I have YOU WANT ME TO BE AT SCHOOL?” She grinned, enthusiastically nodding.

“You got some nerve-”

“It’s not my fault my classmates are lazy…I always get stuck doing busy work” she interrupted, shooting you her best puppy eyes. You bit your tongue as you wanted to retort that it was her fault for being the class’s student rep. 

You sighed. “Okay fine.” 

She squealed and clapped her hands. “Perfect, meet me at 1pm.”

A pit had formed in your stomach that you couldn’t explain as you opened the door to the auditorium. When your friend spotted you, she brightened and grabbed you by the arm, dragging you behind the stage. Large set pieces that outlined what you think was a castle and some trees were set-up but you barely noticed as your eyes found an offensive figure. 

Miya Atsumu turned his head to the side, flashing you his signature smile and opened his mouth. 

“Nope,” you said and turned on your heel and headed back towards the front. Your friend quickly ran and stood in front of you.

“What is Miya doing here??” 

“Apparently he and Osamu crashed into the principal while they were racing to the cafeteria and knocked him down so he’s forcing him to help out as punishment.

“Why is he the only one in there? Where’s Osamu??”

“Technically Atsumu is the one who knocked the teacher over. Osamu managed to skirt away in time so he wasn’t seen.” 

You groaned. “I can’t do this. Honestly, we might end up ruining your scenery fighting or something.”

She glared at you. “You wouldn’t dare.” 

You winced as she stared at you for a moment with a pensive expression on her face.

“What?”

“Maybe you should hang out with him. Both of you play volleyball…just talk about that.” 

“I don’t want to talk to him period.”

She snorted and said, “Just be open-minded. And don’t kill each other. Or destroy my set pieces.” She quickly added at the end.

“No promises.” 

You walked back and went straight to the paint rollers, blatantly ignoring the heavy gaze trained on you. Picking it up, you went to the end of the half-painted castle furthest away from him and began to roll. 

Atsumu raised an eyebrow. “That side is done.” 

You didn’t say anything and scooted a little to where it was unpainted.

“I don’t bite.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if you did.” 

“Shouldn’t I be more afraid of you?”

You glared at him and instead began to talk to one of the other people painting beside you. There were only three others and they had been fairly quiet at the hostile energy radiating between you two. 

However, Atsumu remained eerily quiet as he worked on his set piece and as you focused on yours, you found that time passed fairly quickly. You were finishing up and went to get another paint bucket when you blanched upon seeing Atsumu’s work. 

“Oh my god please don’t tell me this is all you’ve accomplished.” 

“This is harder than it looks!” He said defensively and you bit back a laugh. When he had whipped around to retort, he revealed that he had paint smudged on one of his cheeks as well as a bit of splatter on his shirt. 

“It’s straight lines Miya. I know you act like an ape but I didn’t expect you to have a monkey brain too.” 

He opened his mouth with an indignant face but stopped when you stood beside him. 

“The lines go this way - see then it looks like bricks.” You brushed lightly on the cardboard. 

Atsumu looked at you, eyes wandering around your facial features. He’d never seen you up this close before and without a scrunched up expression on it. Your elbows were almost touching and he frowned. 

“She’s pretty ya know.” Osamu grinned as if he knew a secret. It pissed Atsumu to see that expression on his face.

“So what? She’s mean and bitchy.”

“Oh c’mon. It’s partly your fault she acts that way too. She can be sweet sometimes.” 

“L/n. Sweet. Right.” 

“What, you don’t want my help?” You felt your hackles raise at his frown. 

He shook his head. Your eyes were lit with a bright fire - not necessarily one that was hostile but rather with a lively quality in them - and the stage lights cast shadows across the planes of your face in a way that made you look both glowing and vibrant. 

Pretty. 

His eyes widened slightly and he shook his head a bit to get out of his daze. He must be crazy. The fumes from the paint had probably made him a bit high and out of his mind. Right?

—---------------------------------------------------

After that, your relationship with Atsumu seemed to improve. Your face-offs slowly became more light-hearted and you both began to chat about volleyball, schoolwork, how Osamu and Suna bully him and on and on. He was surprisingly funny and by that, he was easy to tease and rile up. The two of you still fought but it was more so bickering over whether horror movies were better than action movies rather than actual malice. 

He’d come to watch a few of your practices and even began going to games if he’d finish his first. You’d find him, arms leaning against the railings of the second-floor seats and a shit-eating grin gracing his lips. You groaned internally when you saw the flash of blonde in the corner of your eye but refused to take your eyes off the service. 

There was a yell from the stands. “In!”

You froze momentarily watching the ball hit just outside the line.

“Out!” The referee called. 

“ATSUMU MIYA.” 

You whipped your head to the offensive boy and mouthed an aggressive “GET OUT.” 

All you got in response were mini finger hearts.

Mentally facepalming, you turned your attention back to the game and grumbled about him being lucky that this was just a practice match. You’d definitely get back at him on the walk home later.

Yes, indeed, Atsumu had begun to walk you home. He’d wave Osamu off and claim that he needed to walk off his post-practice high and it was getting darker quickly now anyway and he couldn’t make fun of you if you died on the way home. Most of the time, you guys continued the bickering from the day and joked about stupid things, and sometimes, when practice ran late deep into the night, the two of you would just walk side-by-side in comfortable silence. 

And honestly, being friends with Atsumu Miya was nice. 

—--------------------------------------------------

Unfortunately, your heart betrayed you and you could pinpoint the moment it did. 

You were watching the boys play a match and Osamu had gone in for a spike only to change it into a set straight to Aran. Atsumu looked stunned momentarily before he let out a boisterous laugh. The sound was just like a child’s - a refreshing sound full of joy and pure amusement - and you could practically feel his adrenaline amp up another notch. 

Aran scored the point (ofc) and the team gave each other excited high fives before the buzzer rang, signalling the other team calling a time out. You watched him chatter away upon reaching the sidelines and Aran gave him a slap on the back in annoyance while Suna shook his head. You chuckled at their antics but your smile slowly faded as your eyes found the blonde setter again. 

The slight chill from the stadium’s A/C, 

the feel of your hand gripping the end of a yellow cone,

the excited chatter of your classmates beside you, 

the itch at the end of your fingertips to hold that blue and yellow sphere.

You felt your heart beat painfully when you heard Atsumu’s laugh again. 

If you learned anything about Atsumu, it was that he was passionate and wore emotions on his sleeve. Life was simple for him - he said what he was thinking and unashamedly acted the way he felt. When he was elated, his joy was infectious and his face would shine excitedly about some new cool thing he pulled off. He was blunt, but honest and you felt a sense of trust in him because of it. 

And he had his kind moments. 

Once, he found you sitting on the lowest bleacher in an empty gym after a match when your team had lost a crucial game to qualify for the quarterfinals. 

Your eyes blankly stared at the ground as you absentmindedly spun a volleyball in your hands. 

“You guys put up a good fight.”

You snorted in response. “I could’ve done more.” 

“The team worked hard - you worked hard all year. Just get better and kick ass in the fall.” 

“Yeah I tried my best and all it got me was there. I made so many mistakes.” You shook your head. “I should have hustled after more balls…I missed the timing on a few blocks…geez,” you inhaled sharply and leaned back on your hands. “I feel so incompetent. What have I been doing this entire time?” 

“Hey I didn’t stay after all those sessions just for you to complain they didn’t help.” 

You wrinkled your forehead. “Sorry, that’s fair.” Looking up, you gazed into his warm brown eyes, you smiled softly. “Thank you for helping me.” 

He stared at you hard for a moment before turning his head away. “This just means I’m forcing you to train harder next year.” 

You groaned. “For fucks sake.” 

“But really,” he continued. “You aren’t incompetent. You’re like - you’re good.” He said a bit lamely before hesitantly continuing. “You’re good at volleyball, get good grades and get along with people easily. You’re better than most of these scrubs by far.” 

“And I’m pretty.” You swept your hair over your shoulder jokingly. 

There was a pause. “And you’re pretty.” 

“Not to gas you up or anything,” he quickly added. 

You giggled, ignoring the sudden increased palpitation in your chest before responding, “Aw since when is Atsumu Miya a sweetie.”

“Shut up, I take it back.” He stood up and plucked the ball from your hands. “C’mon you need to practice serving.” 

You narrowed your eyes. “My shoulder hurts.”

“Yeah and your serves sucked so let’s go.” 

You were pulled back into the game when the crowd surrounding you stood up, roaring in delight after Suna whipped a point in. Atsumu punched the air, roaring with them and you felt your chest squeeze painfully.

Oh god. 

—--------------------------------------------------

Just as you came to terms with how you felt, things soured with the blonde Miya. 

Atsumu was passionate and wore his heart on his sleeve. This meant that when he was upset, he was upset. Essentially he turned into a stubborn child. 

You were hesitating to open the door because you hadn’t talked to Atsumu in weeks. You were just as stubborn as him and maintained it wasn’t your fault. Both your heads would turn the other way and there was no more bickering - just an icy silence. 

And it all started with a stupid bet.

Atsumu had been teasing you for weeks about how someone seemed to daydream more during class recently and it seemed to result in him somehow getting a higher grade than you on a quiz. In response, you shot back that you’d beat him at midterms.

“Okay bet,” he said easily. 

“And if I win,” he crossed his arms and tilted his head with a smirk. “You have to wear the Inarizaki cheerleader uniform AND yell ‘GO ATSUMU’ during our game.”

You looked at him unamused. “I thought you didn’t like people distracting you.”

“During my serves. Do NOT do it during my serve,” his face darkened. 

“Okay okay moody. But if I win,” an evil look crossed your face. “You have to do the same thing.”

Suna’s eyes widened. “I would literally pay money to see that.” 

Atsumu’s eyebrows raised. “You want me to yell ‘GO ATSUMU’?”

You blinked at him in response. “This will be so easy.”

“The pom poms would look so small,” mumbled Suna quietly as Atsumu yelped indignantly.

Your eyelids pressed shut.

I’m so done with the boy’s volleyball team at this school.” 

However, what you didn’t know was that Atsumu, though lacking in other areas, was fairly good at math when he tried. This, and the lack of sleep you claimed to have, resulted in him scoring a lousy 2 points above you. 

Hence you stood in a uniform, pom–poms in hand and a bow in your hair at the game that would qualify Inarizaki for the fall tournament. 

“Suna, please tell me you got this on camera.”

The tall boy waved his phone up. “Oh yeah, with many different angles of her scrunched up angry face. You know-,” He leaned down, hands placed in his pockets, to your eye level. “You’d be prettier if you smiled.” 

Your eyes narrowed into slits. “Suna Rintaro you did not just say that. It’s so offensive and plays into traditional gender roles and on behalf of all girls I should-”

“Ap-buh-uh,” his slanted eyes turned upward into crescent moons as he straightened with an easy smile. “Just a joke, princess. You genuinely look good.” 

You huffed in annoyance. “I look good in anything.”

You waited for a comment from the annoying setter beside Suna but just found him blinking at you. 

“What are you doing?”

“Enjoying the moment,” he said with an oh so innocent smile. 

“Creep.”

“Hey I’m not the one who stinks at math.” He threw his hands up in defence. 

“TWO POINTS MIYA,” you moved to smack the back of his head and he dodged easily before speed walking down the hall.

“Oh what’s that I think we have to go warm-up,” he exclaimed loudly before smirking. “Don’t forget to cheer me on.”

“UGH.” You sighed in defeat.

“So when are you confessing your undying love for him?”

You squawked at Suna in protest. “I do not - I- it’s Atsumu - he -”

“I got it, breathe y/n,” he ruffled your hair and gave you a peace sign in farewell before walking off after Atsumu.

“Cheer for your guy loudly Ms. Cheerleader.” 

You huffed and you felt a hand slip into yours. Your head spun before you relaxed, recognising one of the regular cheerleaders behind you. She had been kind enough to lend you her spare uniform and teach you some of the cheers. 

“Y/n we have to get to our seats!” 

“Yay,” you said. Your voice fell flat despite trying to sound enthusiastic. 

She laughed and began to tug you into the gym. “Aw c’mon, you look gorgeous. Your boyfriend must be pumped to have you cheer for him!”

“He isn’t my boyfriend.”

“Hmm sure,” she said and made a knowing face at you. 

“He isn’t!” 

“Oh look, they're warming up. Let’s go to our seats before they start.”

And so you let yourself chant along with the girls beside you, throwing up your pom poms a little late but trying your best nonetheless. Atsumu was on fire as usual, syncing perfectly with Suna and Aran. Osamu made a few service errors, but you knew that he had been a bit ill the past few days. Some of your friends from the volleyball team even joined you and all of you screamed your support from the stands.

Finally the match came to an end and naturally Inarizaki won. You were so proud of the team and as they went around to high-five the other team your friend turned to you. 

“y/n, we’re going to the mall to hang out after. Wanna join us?” 

You nodded absent-mindedly, your gaze fixed upon the team below. “I think I can join you later. I want to say hi to the boys before I go.” 

She giggled. “Of course, gotta see Atsumu before you go.”

“Hey! I want to see Osamu and Suna too!” 

She simply laughed. “You’re practically bouncing in your seat. Hurry up and go say bye, we can wait for you outside.”

You nodded in response and took off towards the locker room. Normally, the guys would have a brief talk before changing and Atsumu would be standing outside, a smile on his face and with a slight wave of his hand. You’d thought about changing first to spare yourself from his teasing but honestly, you secretly thought you looked kinda cute in the uniform and wanted him to see you in it again. 

A sudden hand clamped around your wrist before you could make it down the corridor and you turned your head in confusion, locking eyes with a stranger. You recognised him as one of the players on the opposing team.

“What the hell are you doing?” You nearly squawked. 

“I couldn’t help but notice you in the stands today and was wondering why our side didn’t have any supporters as gorgeous as you,” he said with a wink.

“Thanks for the compliment but please don’t touch me.” 

“I saw you with the team before the game too. You’re a popular girl~” 

“So what?” Trying to calm your rising panic and you attempted to rip your arm away from him but his grip was too strong. 

“What’s wrong? You seem to be already whoring yourself out to them so what’s the problem with one more.”

“Fuck you,” you spit and thrashed against him. You reached your other hand up to slap his face but found yourself pinned against the lockers.

Your eyes widened as he leaned his face toward you with a fake smile plastered on your face. The feeling of being so helpless made your blood run cold and you froze, unable to understand what was actually going on. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself to headbutt him when you heard a loud crack. Your eyes snapped open and you saw the boy holding his cheek and a fuming Atsumu was standing in front of him. You felt a pair of gentle arms slowly pull you away from the two and you looked up to see Suna had wrapped his arms lightly around you, his gaze flatly looking at the other boy.

“Are you okay?” he murmured. 

You nodded faintly but you were focused on Atsumu’s face. His face - you had never seen any expression even close to that. Fury was radiating from him as he roughly shoved the boy against the locker and raised his arm again.

You wrenched yourself free from Suna’s grip and ran to stand by Atsumu.

“That’s enough Atsumu!” You gripped the arm that he had balled into a fist. “I’m okay.”

“Miya look at me!” you said when he didn’t reply. “Please!”

He finally dragged his eyes away from the boy and you shivered as he focused his glare on you.

“It’s fine,” you repeated softly and he thankfully put his arm down.

“He isn’t worth you getting kicked off the team,” you continued firmly and Atsumu finally let go of the boy whose face had gone white as Osamu showed up. The trio stood angrily in front of him and you realised in that moment they were quite intimidatingly big. 

“Don’t show your face in front of us again or I’ll beat the shit out of you,” Atsumu spit.

“C’mon Atsumu,” Osamu pushed his twin away and roughly pushed him in the direction opposite of the player. 

“Don’t touch me,” he said growling. 

“Atsumu,” you began cautiously as you trailed after him outside the exit doors. “Atsumu is your hand okay?” 

“Just what the fuck were you doing?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Why were you just standing there? Why the hell were you not fighting back?”

“I was fighting back!” you said, eyes flashing in anger. “I just froze up for a second! Heaven forbid I was fucking scared.” 

He shook his head as if your words were bouncing off of him. “How stupid are you? You’re always doing this - not taking care of yourself and acting all airheaded and zoning out. It’s a goddamn chore to watch out for you!”

“Nobody asked you to watch out for me,” your voice increased to match his. 

“Maybe if you stopped daydreaming like an idiot you’d start playing like an actual decent player instead of just sleeping on the court. Hell maybe your team would be able to stop being shit enough to fucking qualify for nationals for once.” 

“Dude that’s enough,” Osamu looked at him incredulously. 

You took a step back. Atsumu knew better than anyone else how hard on yourself you are, especially about volleyball. You had been overstressed recently as your grades were suffering because you kept staying so late to keep practising and you felt like you were drowning trying to balance everything. 

Your arms came up to wrap themselves around you protectively. 

The anger drained out of his face almost comically fast. “Y/n,” he said, a hint of fear on his face. 

You started to back away and shrugged nonchalantly. 

“No no, you know what you’re right,” you hated how your voice came out shakily. “It’s my fault that someone harassed ME, it’s MY fault our team keeps losing, and it’s MY damn fault that I’m not strong enough to have it together all the time.” 

“Y/n that’s not what I mea-.”

“No, that's exactly what you were saying,” you said, cutting him off. ���Fuck you Atsumu.” Tears pricked at your eyes and you blinked them away, refusing to let him see you cry. 

“Y/n? Is everything okay?” 

The group of you all shifted to see your friends cautiously looking at you. “We heard yelling and you never came out so we were worried.”

“Yep,” you said, attempting to sound cheerful. “Everything’s good. Let’s go, I’m finished here.” 

“y/n,” Atsumu said with a hint of desperation in his voice. 

“I’ll see you guys around.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at any of the boys and simply sped off towards your friends. 

“That was a low blow,” Osamu shook his head.

Atsumu stared after your retreating figure before groaning and banged his fist against the locker. “I’m so fucked.” 

—------------------------------

And that’s the last time you really talked to Atsumu. He made multiple attempts to talk to you in school but always found you surrounded by your friends. They looked at him reproachfully and you were grateful to have such great people supporting you. He tried to confront you a couple of times before and after practice but your captain always made sure to kick him out of the gym and after you would practically sprint home before the boys’ had finished their practice. 

“He’s pretty hostile nowadays,” Osamu sighed from beside you. He’d found you hiding on the rooftop during lunch one day.

“What a surprise.”

“He’s beating himself up for it for sure though.” 

“Miya, are you defending your brother for once,” you tried to joke. 

“I dunno,” he leaned against his arms behind him. “You know how he gets. He’s an ass for sure but he was so worried that day. I’m not sure I blame him entirely though. It’d be infuriating to see anyone in that position. Let alone the girl he -” he paused. “Let alone our friend.” 

There was a silence long enough you felt Osamu glancing at you repeatedly. 

You really weren’t upset with Atsumu. At first, you were admittedly a bit scared of him - you’d never seen that side of him before. BUt you realised that it was probable that the anger was never directed at you. He defended you without a second thought and likely risked a suspension. Atsumu had supported you these past few months and had been a good, albeit kind of annoying, friend. He had his moments - enough so that you had fallen for him. Was it fair that you cut him out of your life?

“I miss him.” you admitted and tucked your knees against your chest. “I don’t really know how to talk to him though. I just keep hearing his words and I’m scared, like what if he loses his temper and says something hurtful again.” 

Osamu nodded. “I can’t promise ‘Tsumu won’t get mad again or say something hurtful and you definitely shouldn’t have to deal with it or make excuses for him. But he cares for you a lot and he doesn’t know how to be concerned since he’s emotionally stupid.” 

“Also,” he finally added. “Ma beat him with a spoon when she found out what happened so the likelihood of him doing it again seems very low.”

You giggled. “Aw Mama Miya putting the fear of god in her boys.”

“Mama Miya is very scary.” Osamu made a face. “She’s probably the only person Atsumu will listen to.” 

Your giggles rang out across the rooftop and Osamu huffed in amusement. As the sounds faded, your eyebrows drew together. You just needed time. You’d get over his words - they were empty after all - but until you could just see him for the boy you liked again, it’d be better to take a break from seeing him. 

—----------------------------------------------------------

A few months passed and Atsumu largely left you alone after a while. You could still feel his eyes on you if he passed by your classroom and you gave quick nods in his direction when you waved at Osamu and Suna. 

And then suddenly, here you found yourself after a game, knowing that he was probably in a shitty mood and asking yourself if you were willing to have him lash out at you again. The men’s volleyball team had gone to nationals and lost at the quarterfinals. You had given him a quick good luck after you stopped by to check on Osamu and Suna before the game but had screamed your lungs out cheering him on during the matches. You were shocked and your heart dropped when they lost after fighting so hard to break the tie. 

You knew he was taking it hard and would be blaming himself for everything.

How is he? You’d texted Osamu.

Not good. We’re leaving him alone.

Yikes is he being hard on you guys?

Nah tbh he’s p down and not saying much. 

The corners of your lips turned downward as you stared at the text. Before you knew it, your feet had led you to the team where they had directed you here.

You took a deep breath and opened the door praying Atsumu was still in there. He was your friend, the guy you had fallen for, and a source of comfort for you when you were having a tough time. It didn’t even matter if he had harsh words - you wanted to be there for him. 

The tall blonde was sitting on the bench, his arms bracing his back, and a towel covering his face. 

“‘Tsumu.” 

No response.

“‘Tsumu.” You called again, standing in front of him. 

“Not a good time, princess.” 

You reached a shaky hand out to place on his shoulder. 

You heard him inhale and a warm hand lifted to cover yours. The other came up to place itself on your hip and his head lolled forward onto your stomach. Your unoccupied hand gently began to rub small circles on his back. 

It oddly felt relaxing in that position and you didn’t feel anxious. It reminded you of those quiet walks home where there was a muted comfort between the two of you. 

“I’m not going to tell you ‘it's just one of those days’ and anybody gets them. While it’s true, you aren’t ‘anybody’. The standard for you is high - you set it yourself after all. But you always pull through.” You gave a little laugh. “You’re a great guy. That’s why all the people in your life stick with you no matter how callous and insensitive you can get.” You rolled back the towel so you could see his face. 

“You too?” His eyes peered intensely into yours. 

“Yep. Me too.” 

“M’sorry,” he said in a low voice. “Please don’t be mad anymore.”

“I’m not,” you said, your face softening but then frowned. “But I’m not sure if I forgive you yet.”

“I’ll take whatever I can get.” He half-heartedly gave you a crooked smile. 

“Dummy,” you shook your head, “I missed you.” 

He laughed, getting up and pulling you into a hug. The two of you stood, smiling idiotically at each other. 

“Is this a bad time to mention that Suna says you have a crush on me.”

“What???” 

You tried to untangle yourself from him but he merely squeezed you tightly in response.

“Take all the time you need. Just let me know when it’s okay to ask you out properly, alright?”

You groaned and buried your face into his chest. 

“Okay? Hello y/n are you there? y/n?”

“Fine, shut up, I'll let you know.” 

Fin.

[slytherinshua]

RUBY OUT OF CONTROL

genre. fluff. brief angst(?). friends to lovers. steven universe au (post steven universe future by a few decades). nicholas is half-gem half-human like steven :D warnings. yn and nico arguing (before the fic starts). nico produces some fire accidentally. just two flustered friends in love with each other. not proofread. pairing. half ruby!nicholas x fem!human!reader. wc. 2k. request. no. a/n. i need to write more steven universe aus fr why is this hitting so hard skdjks. net. @kstrucknet

You had never really fought with Nicholas, at least, never like this. You’d been best friends for years since you met one Summer at an ice cream parlour when you were 16. It seemed like fate when you started talking and bonded immediately. He lived only 5 minutes away from your house with his dad, so seeing him every day started to become routine. 

He said he didn’t really have many friends, besides some gem buddies. You were his first human friend, but you didn’t find it unusual. Gems had assimilated to human society for a few decades since the infamous Crystal Gems created Little Homeworld. You’d had some fun conversations with a few introspective sapphires and a rambunctious peridot yourself. You were always curious to learn more about them, if you ever got the chance. 

Over the years, Nicholas learned everything about you, and you thought you knew everything about him too. You had never expected him to be hiding such a big secret as… this. He was half-gem himself. A rarity, even since the population of gems came to Earth. As far as you knew, there had only ever been one other; Steven Universe himself. 

It wasn’t the fact that he was a half gem that made you upset. You were always ready to accept Nicholas for whatever he was. But the fact that he hid it from you for so long had you confused, and regrettably, you had let your hurt emotions lash out at him. To make matters worse, in the heat of the moment, your feelings for him had slipped out in a messy spew of upset rambling. You weren’t ready for that— neither was Nico. The result? He hadn’t texted you in 3 days.

You were a bit scared to reach out, and too busy overthinking and beating yourself up about how you reacted to even think of how to make it up to him. He deserved better than his closest friend starting an argument when he was vulnerable. It was so easy to see now that he had probably been scared to tell you for years. Of course it was a sensitive topic; and now you had fucked it all up by making it about yourself. 

It was painstakingly clear now that you could put the pieces together. You were almost surprised you had never suspected him of being a gem before. You’d sometimes spotted over the years a hint of red peeking from under his hoodies or t-shirts. And you often wondered why he didn’t like swimming, or wouldn’t show off his muscles like other teenage boys. He was obviously in shape, you’d seen his arm muscles enough times to know that at least.

The red mark you always spotted wasn’t a birthmark, or skin irritation, or acne, but his gem. You felt so dumb for not putting the pieces together earlier, and even dumber for not being gentler with him. But, after the third day of stewing in your regrets and sorrows, you decided enough was enough. 

You were going to apologize to Nicholas at the very least, and hopefully, he would put the argument behind you (and forget about your stupid confession). You really didn’t want to lose your best friend after almost 8 years. You didn’t care about the secrets or even your feelings for him anymore. All that mattered was saving the friendship and seeing him again. 

So, you bravely walked out the front door and started the dreadful 5 minute walk to his house. You hoped he was home. Chances were high that he was. He had never been one to get outside on a Saturday morning when he could be lazing around in bed instead. When you knocked on the door to his house, his dad answered it. 

“Y/n… You looking for Nico?” He asked gently. He looked tired, and you were sure it wasn’t just because it was 9 am on a Saturday. You hoped you hadn’t hurt Nicholas that much…

You nodded, “Is he home?” You were surprised at your own ability to regulate your voice. Although you were seconds away from crying in reality, you tried not to show it to Mr. Wang.

“Of course, of course— he doesn’t go anywhere on a Saturday. I was hoping you’d stop by, actually. Nico’s been having a tough time for a few days; I was hoping you’d be able to cheer him up.” You tried not to get too disheartened by hearing that. You didn’t have the heart to tell Mr. Wang that you were the very reason he must have been having a hard time. He opened the door wider for you to step inside. When you did, you were met with the distinct smell of smoke. 

“Is something burning in the kitchen?” You asked immediately, assuming that your knock on the door had distracted Mr. Wang from cooking his morning breakfast or something.

“No, that’s just… Nicholas.” 

Your eyes widened in confusion, but Mr. Wang merely ushered you towards Nico’s room, backtracking to hand you a small fire extinguisher before allowing you to knock. You didn’t have time to ask why in the world you would need it, before he was knocking on the door for you and then disappearing to a different part of the house. You gulped nervously before forcing words from your throat. 

“H-hey, um, Nico? It’s me… If you don’t want to see me right now, that’s okay, but… I wanted to say I’m really sorry for the other day. I shouldn’t have reacted like that and—” 

The door swung open, and Nico’s dark eyes and red hair came into view. He was in a loose t-shirt, and you could notably see his gem poking up from the neckline. Now that you knew about it, you couldn’t help but stare at the shimmering jewel. You forced your eyes back up to meet his, though.

“—I hope I can make it up to you.” You finished quietly. 

Nicholas sucked in a breath, pulled you into the room by your wrist, and shut the door. Neither of you said a word, and you avoided eye contact with him or even looking at him, surveying the room as a distraction instead. 

“Are you aware your bed is… on fire?” You whispered, not sure whether to be alarmed or not about it. There was already so much else going wrong that a small flame in the room somehow wasn’t your biggest worry. Now the fire extinguisher that Mr. Wang had handed you made sense. 

“Uhm… yeah. Sorry about that.” He awkwardly patted out the flame with his hand, but soon another one sprouted. Flustered, he tried to smack them with his pillow, but as his face grew redder, the flames only grew.

“Is it from your gem?” You took a guess, fairly certain that the fire wasn’t of natural causes. 

“It happens when I’m… angry. Or flustered. Or when I can’t think.” He explained softly, a pain and confusion to his voice. He gave up on the flames, knowing that they wouldn’t catch on anything else in his room. 

“I see. Are you angry at me?” You asked, hoping it wasn’t the case, but with no justification to blame him if it was. You deserved it.

“No. I’m not. I don’t blame you for reacting like that. I was the one hiding something so big from you for so long. I think it’s just cause I’m overwhelmed. I can’t really get myself to stop thinking about 3 days ago.” 

“Me too.” 

“You meant it, right? That you like me?” He dared to maintain eye contact with you, anticipation and nerves bubbling in his chest. They manifested themselves as little puffs of smoke surrounding him. 

You were embarrassed that he asked about it right away. Part of you hoped he would forget you ever said anything, but you supposed there was no way to go back and unsay it. 

“I did mean it. I still do. I’m sorry for the way I reacted, but I promise it was sincere when I said that.” 

It was almost as if you could see the relief wash over Nicholas at your words. The room, which was quite hot when you came in, noticeably cooled in temperature, and the flames on the bed died down. 

“Thank you.” Was all he said, yet the emotion in his voice cut deep into your heart. He took a seat on the bed, and you followed suit. Soon, both of you were shoulder-to-shoulder, sitting in silence. But unlike when you first came in, it was a comfortable silence. A familiar silence. The kind that usually happened naturally whenever you spent time together. But still, something had shifted. There were still unanswered questions to get to— you were both waiting for who would be brave enough to address them first. You took your shot first.

“So… I assume you’re part ruby, right?” 

He nodded, “To be honest, I don’t know much about my gem. My dad tells me stuff about my mom sometimes, but I still feel disconnected from it. Rubies are pretty weak. They used to just be low-ranking soldiers for Homeworld. That’s the capital gem planet out there in space. I’m not sure why or how… I came to be. My dad won’t tell me much about that. He’s a little sensitive when it comes to the whole… self-sacrifice thing.” 

You nodded along to his explanation, all of it making a decent amount of sense for what you knew already about gems. 

“Can I see it? Do you mind?” 

Nicholas could see the sparkle in your eye, filled with curiosity and wonder. He smiled— he always loved your excitable fascination with new things. This reaction to his gem was one he infinitely preferred. He pulled the neckline of his shirt down a bit, revealing the entire gemstone. It was even prettier when you saw it up close. A dark rich red colour with glints of shimmer and sharp cut edges just below his collarbone. 

“Can I…?” You asked softly, hesitant to touch the gemstone without his approval. A cute flush of red covered his ears and cheeks and he nodded, eyes following your hand as it made gentle contact with the gem. He could feel his heart beating faster in his chest at the contact, his suppressed feelings for you growing to an uncontainable size. As if it was about to spill over. As if he was about to do something that he might regret. 

You looked so beautiful, admiring him and his gemstone like he was the most precious thing in the world. He had never felt precious, or like anyone cared about him in this way. His dad loved him, but he could feel how he missed his mother every time he looked at the ruby. Other gems found him unique, and naturally compared him to Steven, only to get disappointed once they realized he would never be as influential or powerful as the legendary diamond. 

But the way you looked at him was different. You didn’t see him as a replacement to his mom, or falling short of a living legend. You just saw him as Nicholas. Nothing more, nothing less. He was the same in your eyes; still your best friend, still the boy you had a massive crush on, still the most important person in your life. 

The feelings exploded, just as Nicholas feared, and a small spark lit under his hands, producing the smallest of flames.

“Oh my god—“ You laughed, eyes travelling down to the flame and then back up to his face, “Are you flustered right now?” You were smiling so fondly, giggles escaping past your lips in a hypnotising and beautiful way. He was frozen— all he could do was stare at you, his face turning a deeper shade of red as butterflies swarmed and his heart raced from your presence. 

And then he felt your lips kissing his cheek softly, and it broke him out of his trance. You still had that same smile on your face. A mix of adoration and amusement towards him. And there was a particular glint in your eyes, as if teasing him, telling him to make the move and kiss you properly. The chance was laid out right in front of him. Who was he to let it run away from him?

↳ &team taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @kpoprhia,, @weird-bookworm,, @candewlsy,, @blossominghunnie,,

@chiiyuuvv,, @seunghancore,, @sobun1est,, @bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,,

@talking-saxy,, @nicholasluvbot,, @hursheys

[mimisplayground]

Traveling Buddies ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶ (Vash x fem reader)

Warnings: Monsterfucking :3, inhuman vash, loving sex ngl like making love…, biting (briefly), NOT MUCH ITS A SOFT ONE LET ME KNOW IF U WANT A ROUGH VER :3, made with 1998 vash in mind but really can be read as either!!

—————

Going along with Vash after that one night. You never brought up how inhuman he looked that night, and you felt he almost appreciated it. When all was said and done you were laid out next him, panting like a dog.

When your vision had cleared, the man laying next to you was the same he looked when he brought you to this rundown inn. The next morning when you woke up, you stared wide eyed as you watched him pack his own stuff and yours as well.

You maybe vaguely remember a conversation along the lines of “wanna follow you everywhere Mayfly, wanna bring you with me” as he pounded you so hard you were walking with a limp.

And then next you knew you were out in the deserts of No Man’s Land, riding along with Vash and digging through a sack to give him a donut as he rode. Looking off into the distance as you continue along the path set by Vash. He seemed to know where he was going. On the breaks where you would stretch your legs and drink water in the heat were marked with a soft peck on the lips from Vash. Sharing the canister of water and a small meal that wasn’t very good. The end of the break was always signified with a deeper kiss from Vash where you felt a familiar inhuman rumble deep from his chest.

Coming to the next town was a multiple day venture, leaving you tired and worn out. Sighing in relief when you were able to eat a full meal and wash up.

Settling into the inn’s bed and ignoring the kisses you feel at your neck for a moment before eventually allowing Vash to move his kisses down to your chest. Letting him suck at your nipples as he purrs softly.

He was more open with his inhuman nature this time. Glowing before your eyes get blurry. Working you open on his fingers and letting you see his cock, that seemed to sprout from a…flower of sorts? You couldn’t bring yourself to think about that much. Watching as a tapered and ridged, and almost bioluminescent blue, entered you slowly. Listening to Vash whine in a double toned vocal. You finally get to see the exact ridge that rubs against your clit on his harsher thrusts.

Feathered wings encapsulate you both, leaving you unable to see other than the faintest glow from inside of you where you are both connected and the glow from Vash and his skin all over.

“Mayfly…” Vash groans in your ear “love you, need you so bad. Gonna make me a good man…” He sighs, loud clicks coming from him that you can now identify as a sound of pleasure. He wasnt human, there was no way you were making things up in your head.

He was too fast with his thrusts, bumps that you can feel the whole time as your thighs tighten around him and you claw the only human flesh you feel on his shoulder as you silently scream. Vash rubbing small circles on your clit as you come undone with him, listening to the trill and buzz that comes from him take over your mind again like nights prior. Whining when his teeth sink into your shoulder possessively.

Laying with him and his unusually cold body, wings craddling you both in tight together as clawed fingers run up and down your side. Humming and purring like an engine as he traces your face and leaves kisses all over you.

[xenyasplacex]

Baby Trapped — Chapter 1

Chris Sturniolo x Fem!OC

Summary: Chris is in a toxic relationship and the only thing keeping him there is his daughter.

warning- Toxic relationship, Miserable Chris, Shouting, Abuse, Physical Abuse, Talk of miscarriage

A/N : This is so bad it’s concerning but oh well, i’ll fix it later. Enjoy xx

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, REPOSTED OR TRANSLATED

Prologue <—> Chapter 2

It all started on a quite joyful note. Nate was in town visiting the triplets and they had gone to a bar the night before he left back to Boston

“Alright,” Nate said over the loud music to Chris, looking around before spotting someone.

“I bet you $40 you can’t pick her up.” He said turning to Chris. 

Matt who was next to the pair laughed while shaking his head. “Her? i’m surprised she even got in here. I’ll bet you $60”

The girl was tall, not taller than Chris but still fairly tall, She had almost perfect skin with curls falling on her shoulders beautifully. She was definitely Chris’ type however it was rare that you saw Chris hit on a girl and even more rare that he hit on a girl and succeeded.

Chris turned to face his brother astonished, “What? You don’t think i can do it?” 

“Girl your age, not staring at you like you’re  a dancing monkey, that pretty. Good luck buddy.” Nick interjected before taking a sip of his drink.

“You know what,” Chris started, quickly downing his drink and stand up, “I think i will got talk to her.” 

That night a slightly Tipsy Chris went to talk to a very pretty girl, a girl that he didn’t know was actually as safe as poison. That night marked that everything changed. From that exchange of phone numbers led to a toxic relationship, an unplanned pregnancy and a whole load of problems that none of the triplets had even thought could happen.

To be completely honest it had all happened at an unusually fast pace. Within 2 months of talking they were together, the honeymoon period lasted for about a month before the relationship started to turn ugly. What used to be simple taps turned into being hit with hard object which turned into being left on the floor, bruised and bloody. After about 6 months Chris had tried to break up with her but he couldn’t. She threatened to stop eating, to cut herself, to kill herself, and even the possibility of her going through with these things because of chris was enough to make him stay. When he tried to leave again she made the same threats but Chris stood up for himself and that’s when she told him she was pregnant. That night was still foggy for Chris but after a few too many drinks, a couple of kisses, apologies and a plane ticket to vegas later, Chris woke up hung over and married, and 10 months later his daughter, Adriana was born.

Adriana was the one thing that kept him going all these years, the idea that he finally had a daughter to love and care for, a daughter that was all his, a daughter that loved him as he loved her. His daughter. He didn’t want to leave Aaliyah because he knew if he did she could be taken from him and that made him stay. It made him put up a fight. It made him strong.

It started when they came back from tour. Late. 

“Daddy!” Adriana cried out as Chris fell to the floor, Aaliyah stood over him.

“You were supposed to be back at 3 o’clock Christopher, 3!” She screamed adding more punched to his face.

It was currently 6. In all honestly, Chris had just come back from tour and their flight home had simply been delayed. However, in Aaliyah’s eyes Chris staying out late just meant that he was cheating and she couldn’t stand for him cheating. 

“Daddy!” Adriana cried again this time leaving her safe spot behind the door frame and coming to try and stop her mother. That had never happened before. Usually when Aaliyah went crazy on Chris she was like hide under her bed in her room and wait for Chris to come and and rock her to sleep saying everything was fine however this time things were different, Aaliyah was hitting harder and faster. Adriana has to protect her dad the way he protects her. It was only fair.

“Adrian get back!” Chris yelled as he watched his daughter toddle over to her mother. It was only when his wife’s elbow connected with his daughter’s nose that Chris fought back. He quickly grabbed Aaliyah by her arms and pushed her off him. Hard. Hard enough to knock her into a shelf that was near them and had some of the books fall on her.

In that moment Chris quickly got up, ignoring the immense pain he felt. He quickly picked his daughter up and ran downstairs to her room before locking them both in it. At that point Adriana was still crying saying her face hurt and Chris was trying to pack a bag of everything she needed. Her clothes, her night time dipears, her kindergarten uniform and her favourite stuffed animal, Jeff the 

giraffe. As he started shoving everything in a bag he heard Aaliyah starting to move so he quickly put his shoes on, put adrian’s shoes in his bag, picked her up and ran for the door before quickly putting her in her car seat and driving away from the house.

Chris was speeding, running red lights, cutting people off and breaking almost every rule of driving to get them away from the house but at that point he didn’t even care about himself, he needed to get Adriana out if there. After a while Chris finally parked his car at a Mcdonald’s around 20 minutes from his brother’s house. If she went straight there she would find him. He finally turned to his daughter who was still breathing heavily from how she had been crying. 

“Oh baby,” Chris said softly as he got out of the car and went over to the back of the car to pick her up and hug her tight. Adriana started crying into Chris’ shoulder again, gripping his hoodie tightly. Chris simply rocked her, humming soothing tunes and playing with her hair, the same things he used to do whenever Aaliyah would be destroying things around the house and so Adriana couldn’t sleep. Eventually, she stopped crying and was simply sniffling. 

“I’m sorry Adi I’m really sorry. I love you so much i’m sorry you saw that. How’s your nose huh?”

“Better”

“I’m sure it is you brave brave girl.” Chris said ticking her side finally making her giggle. “There we go, you’re laughing now.” He said happily before kissing her cheek. “Let’s get something to eat okay?”

“Chris?” Matt spoke through the phone gently, “Where are you?”

“I’m at Mcdonald’s, the one near your house,” Chris replied rubbing the exhaustion of his eyes. They had been at that mcdonald’s for no around 5 hours now and the realisation from what had haken had started to kick in. Now Adriana was asleep in her car seat and Chris was trying to stop his hands from shaking.

“Chris!” Nick yelled faintly before grabbing the phone from Matt. “Chris Aaliyah was just here, she’s left now but she was screaming that you left and she was going to go to the cops.” No. This couldn’t be happening. He only touched her to protect his child. If she went to the cops would they even believe him?

“Chris? Chris come here okay. Look Matts phone is about to die and i can’t find mine just come here and we’ll sort everything out okay? come here and we ca-“ Was the last thing Chris heard before thephone went dead.

Chris considered his options. He could go back and beg Aaliyah not to call the cops or he could go to his brothers house and keep him and his daughter safe.

“Adi’s asleep, she went out like a light.” Matt laughed quietly before joining his brothers on the couch.

“Chris, i know you don’t want to but you have to tell us what happened.” Nick explained as Chris rolled his eyes and got up from the couch.

“Nothing happed Nick, she’s just mourning that’s all.”

“Oh my gosh Chris I am so tired of you using that tired excuse every time she messes up. I understand losing a child can be hard.” Nick yelled before Chris cut him up.

“Shut up Nick, just shut up!”

“But if she’s doing something to you that’s so bad that you had to take your living child and run then you have to do something about it. Chris what if you need a lawyer?”

“Shut up, i said shut up!” Chris screamed, grabbing Nick by his collar.

“Wow wow Chris chill out, he’s just trying to help you.” Matt shouted trying to get in between the two. 

“Yeah well your help isn’t needed,” Chris said much quieter now letting go of Nicks collar, “my wife is mourning our child okay? And so am I.” Chris said sincerely before waking upstairs to find his daughter.

He didn’t mean to lash out at his brother, but it’s hard to do so when someone is in your head like that. Chris may not be sure if he truly did love Aaliyah but she was the mother of his only child and that was enough to make him protect her, even if it meant killing himself inside in the process.

He didn’t even remember falling asleep near his daughter, all he knew was the next morning he woke up to Aaliyah rubbing his back telling him to wake up so they could go home.

Caught. They were caught.

“Common babe, you go have breakfast with you brothers downstairs i’ll go get Adi ready okay?” She asked lovingly before pressing a soft kiss to his check and lips. 

Yes, the same woman who had been beating on him yesterday was know kissing him like nothing had happened. She was mean and manipulated by she was a pretty damn good actor.

Chris riddled downstairs where he heard Matt and Nick gossiping.

“He was about to sucker punch me in the mouth!”

“Nick, you said his wife should get over their dead son. I would’ve done the same.”

“I didn’t say it like that.”

“I’m sorry okay?” Chris said in the door frame causing his other triplet brothers to turn their heads and look at him. “I was in a bad room. I’m sorry for taking it out on you.”

“I’m sorry for what I said, but Chris, if she is doing something to you, you have to tell us. We can help you but we can only do that if you let us in. Please?” Nick begged.

Does he tell them what’s going on? Does he try to explain to them that they can’t let him leave with her. He has to. He has to save his child from her. From what she could do to her. Not only that but he had to save himself. He had to save himself from the pain this whole relationship had caused, he had to save himself from all the suffe-

“You ready to go babe.” Aaliyah whispered as she turned the corner, a sleeping child resting on her chest and her baby bag in another hand. 

“Yeah, yeah i am.” Chris stated quietly, watching as his brothers shoulders dropped and he looked down in defeat.

Chris quickly brought his brothers into a hug and whispered a quick ‘Thanks’ to them before the small family left the house. It was only when they got in the car the Aaliyah facade dropped and she turned to Chris with a serious face.

“Christopher, the next time you run of with my daughter after laying hand on me, i promise you i will go straight to the police, and take you to the cleaners. Are we clear?” She asked.

 Chris didn’t say anything, to shocked at her change in tone.

“I said are we clear?” She asked again, this time with our agitation in her voice. 

“Yes, we’re clear.” He replied quietly before staring the engine and pulling out the driveway.

That was his life, a woman who treated him horribly but who he still stayed with, because he had a child to protect, and if that meant protecting her mother as well then so be it.

Hehehe, Luv ya ~ Xenya

Chapter 2

[artsy-hobbitses]

I've seen the headcanons with Megatron (ıt's delightful but i get a little sad at the headcanons involving Op and his blackling disease). I wonder if you have headcanons for Optimus or Strongarm Sideswipe ? 👉👈

By popular demand, please enjoy this compendium of Daddimus headcanons!

Optimue Prime/Omar Parvez used to smoke while he worked in the Dead End (mainly due to the stress), but gave up the habit when he was demoted to a dockworker.

He's the long-suffering mediator between the souls of the twelve Primes currently locked in the Matrix which he now bears. It's not unusual to hear him seemingly talking to or negotiating with himself, and Prima and Megatronus' catfights comprise the majority of his headaches.

Omar doesn't like being called Prime, but accepts it reluctantly as a rank. Those close to him only refer to him as Omar, or Optimus on a more formal basis. 'Prime' is who he is to the wider world, and was a rank unwittingly accorded to him by Alpha Trion/Aillard Toussaint. This happened when Aillard, upon facing an increasingly megalomaniacal Sentinel/Sedgewick who was trying to fashion himself as the next Prime and had arrested him under sedition charges for associating with Omar and owning banned literature, told Sedgewick that Omar was "more of a Prime than you'll ever be." That was captured on recording, and went viral very quickly, and Omar was being associated with the rank 'Prime' at a time when he was still using 'Orion Pax' as a codename. Optimus ('the best' ie. 'the best of us'), was co-opted by his supporters to counter Sedgewick's attempt to fashion himself as 'Sentinel Prime', defender of order. It's not until Omar comes back from the dead with a strange bauble embedded in his chest that he starts going by Optimus -sigh fine- Prime, to distance himself from his a nickname given to him by a now-enemy.

He has a love for rearing pigeons passed down from his father, who built a makeshift dovecote on the roof of their apartment. The pigeons on Aillard's estate know his face and answer to his call when he goes out to feed them daily. He has each one named and tagged, and even without food, they still flock to him.

He is the imam of the Muslim Autobot prayer congregation which comprises Hotspot/Hassan, Trailbreaker/Tariq, Steeljaw/Salim, First Aid/Fatima, Ramhorn/Raminah, and later on Streetwise/Shamar.

As such with the info above, is usually the first person awake on the base on any given day.

Excellent in the kitchen. Loves making Tapsi (a Kurdish aubergine casserole) for himself as a post-battle treat, but also makes a beef stroganoff bonkers enough that old college buddy Elita-One/Alisa Ivanova, upon finally being able to land on earth after dealing with Liege Maximo's bullshit, immediately hauls Omar into the nearest kitchen so he can make that specific dish for her.

You'll notice that Ratchet/Ronan has a patch of dark skin on one side of his face (Inspired from Osamu Tezuka's Dr Blackjack). As part of his torture when he was captured and held by Bludgeon, half his face was flayed. After Omar rescued Ronan, he donated skin to him for a temporary allograft. However, even at a point where Ratchet was well enough to receive an autograft from his own body, he refused since his body had not rejected Omar's allograft, and he wanted to keep it as it was as a symbol of the deep friendship the two of them share and the sacrifice Omar made for him.

Omar keeps a sketch that Bumblebee/Benjamin drew of him on his desk.

He makes time for Ben whenever Ben is laid up in medical bay, whether it's reading to him, watching his favorite shows he missed during field missions together, or just humming to him until he sleeps.

He's a pianist who plays by ear mostly, and time spent with Ben includes playing during Ben's ballet practice. You can tell what his stress levels are by the tempo of the pieces he's playing---if he sounds like he's setting the keys on fire, he has grievances he clearly needs to work out.

Omar has in his possession the once-beloved water-damaged notebook in which Megatron/Morgan first wrote notes for Towards Peace in---he had wanted to return it to Morgan when he found it outside his precinct station, but was too late as Morgan had already been shipped to Messatine when he came to the mines. For a decade, he kept it with him, and when Morgan came back, he tried to return it. However, Morgan, while grateful for the gesture, refused to take it back and told him to toss it or burn it, as it was "penned by a witless, childish fool", which he wasn't anymore. Omar refused to do so, and it remains in the drawer of his study desk---when he's feeling quietly hopeless, he'll open it up and see the pages where he and Morgan in their youths had drafted ideas together for a better system, and he's back to the drawing board. He refuses to give up on the hope for a better world, or that the Morgan he knew is completely gone.

His mother was a journalist who had experience running an underground publication network in Iran, and it was from her experience that Omar collated and distributed the notes from Messatine written by Morgan, which made up the full copy of Towards Peace. In essence, for better or worse, Omar is the reason Morgan's words spread as swiftly as they did on earth.

He also has a Youtube channel specifically dedicated to a little book club Blaster/Brandon had encouraged him to open up, after Brandon one day invited him to speak on an Autobot radio show and the number of listened spiked significantly. On this channel, he usually reads from a book of the month and discusses its themes/characters, as well as fields questions about his favorite written works in general. He has also at times, chosen books that Morgan enjoyed in their younger days. Whether he knows that Morgan sometimes listens in on him is something he'll brush off, but on the off chance that Morgan does tune in… he still thinks about you, old friend.

Turkish tea fiend.

Green thumb from setting up an urban garden in the Dead End, regularly tends to the communal garden at the Autobot base alongside Sludge/Slavomir and Hound/Hale.

In his early days as Optimus Prime, suffered from internal burns, severe chest pains (he said it felt like the sun burning up in his chest) and shortness of breath after major use of the Matrix's powers in battle. Note that back then, using the Matrix's powers wasn't aways a choice he consciously made, as it treated him like a host and would react to/be triggered by serious threats. The only reason the Matrix stayed in him then, was because neither Ratchet nor Wheeljack could figure out how to safely remove it, and there was fear that despite the way it was affecting him, it was what was keeping him alive and was too ingrained with his neural network to be parted from him.

Per the above, he was actually in chronic pain which he was medicated for and hid very well, up to the point where he finally made contact with the volatile, conglomerated mess of Prime souls in the Matrix during a coma and managed to calm them down/'untangle' them.

There is a little cairn at the roots of largest tree in Alpha Trion's estate where Omar's pigeons most often roost, which he set up for his father, Mirzan, who was killed by his former mentor Sedgewick on charges of disseminating seditious literature. He's never been able to retrieve his father's body and consequently, give the man a proper burial, and he feels guilty about it to this day.

[grasshopperqueen]

need me to run out and grab a few things?

“Yes please… as many cans of soup as this can buy…” Insecta mumbled as she handed khare a fistful of waded up, crumpled bills of varying value. She usually steals these kinds of things, but since khare was taking care of this for her, she decided to try it the normal way.

Insecta was a pitiful sight at the moment, she didn’t like people seeing her like this. She was going through a molt, which meant days of itchy hell as her skin sloughed off in patches and made doing normal things difficult, and thus refused to go outside to obtain her food since light felt uncomfortable on her new layer of skin. From what khare could see of Insecta as they stood on the docking area of the ship, she had a blanket covering her like a shawl with a patchy pink and yellow arm extending the handful of bills towards her, the bags under her eyes were prominent from lack of sleep durning the process. Since she wasn’t a full bug, she wasn’t afforded the luxury of this only happening to her three times in her life. her rare meta-human mutation gave her the benefit of an exoskeleton like any normal insect with the downside of having to fully shed it once every few months like a human usually does with its outer layer of skin, and she hated it.

“…thank you for this…” she uttered, before she scurried back into the safe darkness of the ship.

[shiorimakibawrites]

Day 4 - Dusty Rose

Prompt: 4 - “Are you blushing” + 6 - Love Bites Character: Matt Murdock Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader Word Count: 728 Warnings: Referenced sexual activity, swearing, teasing Tags: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @yarrystyleeza, @justvalkyrie Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist

Dusty Rose

Matt just wanted to surprise you with breakfast.

It seemed like his plans were going off without a hitch. He had left you sleeping, naked and sated, in the bed while he dressed himself and silently slipped out of your room. He left no note, confident in his ability to return before you woke up. While Nevermore wasn’t the closest coffee shop, it was usually less busy at this hour than the Coffee Crab.

His first clue that something might be gone awry was the number of girls who giggled when he walked past them. A few wasn’t unusual but it seemed like every girl he passed ended up giggling and whispering to her friends comments like ‘true facts’ or ‘absolutely agree’. 

And he had no idea why.

It was a little tempting to stop someone and ask what was so funny. But he had a limited time to complete his mission so he decided to ignore it.

As predicted, Nevermore wasn’t too busy. The giggling continued to follow him but he continued to ignore it. Right up until he heard Foggy’s familiar heartbeat walked into the cafe and immediately began to snort like he was trying not to laugh. He had almost regained control of himself when he joined Matt at the back of the line. Only to immediately struggle again.

“Hey buddy,” Foggy said, throwing his arm over Matt’s shoulder. “Have fun last night?”

“Yeah,” Matt said, attempting to sound nonchalant. “Got a lot of studying done while I was sexiled from our room.”

“I’m sure,” Foggy said, his tone extremely skeptical. “Didn’t know you were taking biology this semester.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Dude, you’re wearing your girlfriend’s sweatpants,” Foggy said.

“What?!” Matt felt the pants and realized that Foggy was right. He had been so concerned about not waking you that he grabbed the wrong sweatpants out of the drawer . . .

“Which sweatpants?” he asked, having a sudden horrifying suspicion.

The grin spreading across Foggy’s face was clear as he answered, “Bright pink with ‘hot stuff’ written in red across the ass.”

Matt felt the blood flooding his face and knew he was blushing.

“Also . . .”

“There’s more?!”

Foggy couldn’t contain his laughter anymore. “Foggy!”

“That vee neck you’re wearing is showing off those hickies running down your neck. Didn’t know your girl was such a vampire.”

He hadn’t been unaware of those little bruises forming last night but he had been rather . . . distracted. “Oh . . . didn’t realize they’d be so visible.”

“Curse of that pale Irish skin, buddy,” Foggy said with a mixture of real and pretend sympathy. “Hickies are the most vivid purple on the planet. And you all but glow in the dark when you blush.”

This only brought more blood rushing to his cheeks. “That bad?”

“Your face is almost as red as the lettering on those pants.”

Foggy was momentarily prevented from further teasing by them reaching the counter. And thank all that was holy and good, the barista was utterly professional the entire time. Matt was able to get his order and walk back to your dorm with what little dignity he had left.

That you had woken up before he could return only added to his disappointing morning.

“Hey Matty,” you called out. He knew when you had spotted the sweatpants mishap by the quickly stifled laughter.

“You can laugh, sweetheart,” he said with a sigh. “Everyone else has.”

You immediately took him up on that offer. Managing to say between giggles, “Can’t say I disagree with those pants.”

Matt grumbled a little as he held out your coffee.

“Matty, are you blushing?”

“No,” he immediately denied.

“I don’t know, Matty,” you said, pretending to be thoughtful. “That dusty rose looks an awful lot like a blush to me.”

“It’s your imagination.” Which only made you laugh at him again.

“What woke you up?” He asked, hoping to change the subject.

“E-mail notification,” you said. “Our morning class was canceled.”

“Really?”

“Yep, nowhere to be until noon.”

“Darn, I could have slept in.”

“You could get some more sleep, if you want,” you said. “Or . . .”

“Or?” he asked huskily, feeling his cock swell as your scent of your arousal began to fill the air.

You let your robe drop to the floor. Leaving you naked once more. His mouth watered.

“Or you can fuck me, Hot Stuff.”

[dashofmonsters]

Dreamers & Delusions- Pt. 7

merman x female reader

"Would you like to move in with me then?" Tao asks.

You gape at him in disbelief of what just came out of his mouth before shaking your head, "Wait a second, wait a second... You'd be ok with me living with you?"

"Yes, that's why I asked." Tao confirms.

"Because you know if I agree to this and I move out of my grandmother's, she won't take me back and I can't afford rent in this area even with a double shift at the diner and all," you wave your hand about as you rant your concerns.

Tao nods and reaches for your hands, "You can stay here if you want. I would never, could never abandon a shoal mate."

You know he's being sincere, know that he'd never kick you out or leave you behind. But you're also scared, scared of these feelings that you have for him. He's your friend and you trust him so much that it hurts sometimes.

You want to jump up and say yes a million times over but there's this part of your heart that weeps at the idea of growing closer to someone you've decided is off limits. It would be torturous to stay with him, to be any closer than what you'd allow.

"Let me... let me think about it ok?" you finally say, poking the remnants of your cake slice.

"Oh... uh Of course," Tao stutters, sounding unusually shocked. "It's a big decision, I understand"

"Yup, for sure." you shove the piece of cake in your mouth and try and think of something else to talk about but nothing comes to mind.

There's a stretch of awkward silence that Tao eventually breaks when he takes a sip of coffee and nearly chokes on it. You jump down out of your seat to check up on him but he laughs it off. You can't help but to notice he's a bit dry to the touch, his usually moist and slightly leathery skin feels a bit scratchy.

"Tao, buddy, I think your overdue for a jump into your tank." you poke his arm and he looks down at it with a grimace.

He quickly hides his arm behind his back, his pointed ears have flattened like that of a cat's and he's backed away from me a good few feet.

"Should I not have mentioned that you need to rehydrate? Is that some cultural thing?" you ask.

Tao looks to the hatch and then at the floor and then the closet and then basically anywhere that's not you. He looks visibly uncomfortable and like he might run off at any second.

"Dude, you gotta talk to me or else I'm not sure what to do here." You sigh.

Without looking at you he nods and groans, "It is a cultural thing and it is a bit embarrassing to my kind... I am well hydrated, I just uhh missed a spot when I was scrapping off my dead skin..."

"Ok, no big deal then. Easily fixable right?" you smile at him, hoping that it'll help him be less uncomfortable but he still looks like he's ready to sprint.

"It is indeed a very big deal my friend, please excuse me." Tao dashes off and kicks the hatch open, and before you can say his name he's plunged right in. Water splashes up and around the living room floor and you're left alone.

The house in quiet once more but less awkward. Now that he's gone into the tank you're left alone with your thoughts and you're not quite liking them. If you had your phone you'd be texting Jess all about this, hoping for some sound advice. For the first time in a long time though, you're absolutely alone.

So you do the one thing that's always taken your mind off of anything and start cleaning.

You knew Tao's tiny beach house like the back of your hand since it's a pretty finite space and well organized. Usually he keeps his home spotless but since he rescued you he hasn't been paying much attention to keeping up with his house.

Lucky me, you think as you riffle through the cubbies of cleaning supplies under his kitchen sink.

Tao buddy, your house is about to be attacked by anxiety induced cleaning.

You attack the kitchen first, getting into every nook and cranny you can. At some point you get inventive in order to get the hard to reach spots as intrusive thoughts creep in here and there. A full hour passes and though your fingers are now wrinkled from being damp and your back sore from bending over in ways you weren't meant to, you continue on.

It's not till one of your wounds opens and blood drips that you realized you went a little too hard too soon. You groan and clean the spot off before holding a wad of folded paper towels over it. A makeshift bandage till you can find one of Tao's many first aid kits.

You look under the sink and in the pantry but you don't see high nor low of any band aids or antibiotic ointment. You run down the hall to the bathroom hoping you'll find one in there when you start to feel dizzy. You look down and see that the paper towel is almost all red.

Well that's not fucking good...

You're not one of those people who faint at the sight of blood but for some reason you've never been too ok with seeing a lot of yours exiting your body like this. You do your best to continue your search with shaky hands and a calm mind but your anxiety has other ideas.

Your vision blurs as tears sting the corners of your eyes and you do your best to hold back the pathetic whimpering but you crumple in front of the bathtub and cry as you hold onto your wound.

A small part of you hopes Tao won't find you like this and that you'll be passed out already but the larger part of you is hoping he'll get his tall merman ass over to you ASAP.

In desperation you remove the shirt you borrowed from Tao and start to wrap your arm with it but your hands are too shaky. You curse and cry and then gasp as you feel yourself being lifted up. You don't have it in you to protest until the cold water of the tub makes you yelp.

A soothing hand holds your shaking arm still as the stinging effects of the healing potion bubble along the wound.

"I should have warned you that this only acts as a temporary fix but doesn't completely heal the wound unless you use it a few times a day," Tao rubs his thumb against your hand, his voice is filled with remorse and worry.

All you can do is nod as you attempt to curl your body into a ball, both out of embarrassment for being pretty much naked in front of Tao and ashamed that he's seen you in this crumbled state. Being pathetic from nearly dying out at sea is one thing but being pathetic because you can't handle the sight of your own blood is another thing entirely, at least to you it is.

"You've lost even more blood, you must be exhausted..." His hand slowly leaves yours and pats your shoulder. "I'll be back with a towel and then I'll take you to my nest. Try and get some rest tonight."

Without meaning to, you start sobbing. You're completely inconsolable as you cry into your hands. You feel childish and Tao makes it even worse as he scoops you up into a towel a wraps you up. He holds you close as if you mean the world to him so you cry against his chest. You're a shaking shivering wet hot mess who is crying so hard in the arms of her crush that she starts falling asleep.

Your eyes sting with the salt of your tears and your throat aches from crying but you feel at peace. Like you can finally sleep without having to worry about getting you ass beaten for no fucking reason. You don't feel scared or on edge.

Suddenly the heat from Tao's body is missing and is replaced with a large comforter. He tucks you in and you whimper. He soothes his hand against your cheek and you turn into it and cry some more. You haven't felt this safe in a long long time nor this amount of pain and agony.

You hate to admit it, but you really like Tao... no, you're in love with him and this is going to fucking hurt.

~~~~~~

Your soul nearly jumps out of your body when you wake up to the loud clap of thunder. You jolt up and gasp as you look around in the dimly lit nest room. Your heart is beating a mile a minute and then it nearly stops when a very large hand plops onto your shoulder. It takes you a moment to realize that it's Tao's arm.

It takes you less time then that to realize that you're naked and Tao's large arm is across your body and rubbing up against your chest.

Tao groans and turns up against you as his hand slowly roves down to your hip, pulling you down until he's spooning you. And then, he begins to purr. His large cold hands absent mindlessly roam until one settles on your hip and the other on your shoulder. His mouth is dangerously clothes to your ear and his um... um...

Your mind goes blank because you've dated and you know what morning wood feels like and this... uh... he's either got a very big package or he got two very good size packages.

Right now, you feel as if you're both in heaven and hell being wrapped up in the arms of the merman you've finally admitted to yourself that you're in love with. Unfortunately, he'll regret this because you're not his mate.

You allow this to go on for a few more moments before you start wiggling out of his arms as carefully as you can before locating something you can wrap yourself up in.

With your now strapless blanket dress on you decide to tip toe to the kitchen for a quick midnight snack. You find the soup that Tao had made for you and toss it in the microwave while munching on some chips. Thoughts of the day and years past start to rear their ugly head as you stare at the spinning bowl. All your worst fears and nightmares circling around. You've told yourself you're not meant for love for so many years because if you were no one would have betrayed or left you.

And that's why you hate how fast you fell for Tao. You know he won't betray you or leave you without a damn good reason. He's been blunt and brutally honest with you to the point that it hurts sometimes. You trust him so much and feel so safe with him that it scares the shit out of you.

The soup pops in the microwave snapping you from your deep dark thoughts. You quickly clean up the mess while trying not to burn yourself on the hot bowl. You stir the lukewarm contents before shoving it back into the microwave, this time covered up.

You sigh and turn to head towards the fridge but end up bumping right into the rock hard chest of your heart's tormentor.

Like a bumbling idiot you jump back and nearly trip yourself up in the saddest attempts to gain composure. You obviously failed.

Tao sort of catches you, sort of pins you against the counter. Either way, you're both flustered and awkward.

"I uh... are you well enough to be walking around?" Tao asks as he helps you straighten up.

"Oh um yeah, just a little sore. Mostly hungry," you shrug and nod towards the microwave.

Tao nods his head and for the first time you notice that his eyes are all black. Not a single fleck of gold in them.

"Did you come out here for a snack too?" you ask as you start towards the fridge again.

You barely make it past Tao when he hoists you up in his arms and walks you to one of the bar stools.

"Oh come on, I'm not that bad off," you groan as he sets you down.

He glares daggers at you and frowns, "Need I remind you that you're still healing and that your wounds are only temporarily closed."

You want to joke or make some kind of snide remark but the incident is still fresh so you end up just curling into yourself. You gently clutch your sore and bruised arm and turn away from Tao.

Tao's fingers brush against your arm but quick retract when the microwave goes off. He takes the soup out and sets it front of you before going back to grab some rolls and pour you a glass of water.

You stare blankly at your food, your stomach sinking and appetite disappearing. You fidget with your fingers as your eyes start to blur from the heaviness in your chest.

Tao tries to reach out to hold you but you dodge his arms and slide off the chair. You're breathing is a little labored as you crumple to the floor. You needed more time before seeing him again, needed more time to compose yourself so you can continue lying to yourself.

You hear Tao talking a mile a minute, panic in his voice but once again his words are lost on you. You feel him get close so you scramble back, putting some dramatic distance between the two of you.

"Why are you running from me!?" he yells, the panic having evolved to pure distress and confusion. His black eyes are wide and his usually well kept hair is a mess and sticking to his face.

The bottle holding your years and years of pent up emotions finally shatters and without warning you cry out every frustration, every bold face lie you told to keep yourself safe, and every terror you've ever faced.

At some point you jolt up and start pacing circles like a mad woman, ranting and raving about your family, your jobs, your school, basically your whole damn life. You've told Tao bits and pieces but never the whole damn story.

You never told him that you almost died from starvation thanks to your estranged mother's fairy magic drug habits. You never told him how the girls in high school would lock you in the school over the weekends. You never told him or anyone how many times you had to lie, cheat and steal to keep your siblings fed since working in fast food hardly paid enough.

"The worst part is that I thought I finally fucking escaped my shitty ass family only to get tormented by my own grandmother on a daily fucking basis!" You shout, your chest heaving and your eyes now dried and crusted. "Who fucking tells their grandkid that their an overweight piece of shit? Who fucking does that?!"

It was a matter you used to joke about, something that you'd act like it didn't bother you but the truth is that it always got under your skin. You hardly got to eat anything decent growing up and now that you're all grown up you get to eat whenever and whatever you damn well please. It's not like you gorge yourself, but no one, especially your grandmother, should have any fucking say in your weight.

Tao slowly walks till he's right in front of you before crouching down. His hand slides against your cheek and he whispers some sort of spell that soothes the ache in your eyes. You crumble into his arms, truly exhausted now. He gently kisses your forehead before carefully lifting you up.

"You're safe here, you can rest," he tells you, his voice cracking.

You nuzzle up against him and his hold on you tightens. You always felt safe with him, it was an immediate thing. Like the second you met him you had this feeling deep down that you knew you could trust him.

Little by little you drift in and out as he walks you back to his nest room and tucks you back in. You feel him hovering over you before he leans in to kiss your cheek and then your nose. He slowly peppers your face in gentle and soft kisses expect he never kisses your lips. You can't help but to laugh before you sit up just enough so you can quickly steal a kiss from him.

It was meant to be a quick kiss goodnight before you pass out but that low rumble you hear from Tao catches you off guard and you get lost in the moment. He leans into you, holding you close. One kiss turns to two, turns to three and before you know he's lowering you back into his nest, lips still locked.

His large hand cups your face and you feel your heart pounding like crazy as your face heats up. You and Tao have kissed before, but not like this. He's kissing you like he actually likes you, and more than just a friend. He's kissing you like...

You turn your face from him and fake a yawn, "Oh god, sorry... I'm just-"

"Get some sleep," He kisses your cheek and sits up. "We'll talk in the morning."

You smile at him as he gets up and heads to the door. He nervously mentions that he's really dehydrated and it might be a bit before he comes up for air tomorrow. You wave him off and tell him goodnight before rolling yourself up into a ball of blankets and woe.

"I really fucked up..." you grumble as you clutch at your heart.

~~~~~~

Tao:

I really fucked up, I think.

I allowed myself to get caught up in my emotions and fell into her arms. I haven't even told her how I feel nor have I given her the space to heal.

Gods and goddesses I am the absolute worst.

I lament myself as I droop over a pile of rocks. I knew she had a tough upbringing and has issues with he family but I never realized just how much she was hiding. How long has she been suffering on her on?

She laid herself bare, screaming in agony of every sad story no one probably ever cared enough to listen to.

My heart bleeds for her, truly. For I know what it means to be alone in that regards. I had started opening up to her little by little. I never felt compelled to talk about myself but with her I feel safe enough to do so.

Suddenly my heart stops and I realize that's why she ranted for hours on end now.

She feels safe with me.

I start cursing myself in a similar fashion to my... my shoal mate.

The neutral tasting words leave behind a numb sensation. I can no longer call her my friend in private. It just tastes too awful. I can call her my shoal mate, it's a honest statement but it's still further from the truth.

When I held her earlier as she laid in my arms fast asleep I felt this need to protect her. It was similar to how I felt compelled to protect my shoal back home but there was more to it. I was anxious and every little creek or shuddering of the house had me on the edge. It wasn't until she rolled over and curled into me that I started calming down.

I started thinking long and hard about how to approach her once she was well and fully healed. I want to ask her if I could court her, tell her that it doesn't matter if we're not fated mates that my heart has chosen her. I want her as my mate and I can only hope she feels the same way.

But all that will have to wait a little while longer. She has more than just the physical wounds I must worry about. She needs to heal from the years of pain this world has wrought upon her.

I know she hasn't answered me on moving in but for her safety I will greatly insist. She cannot begin to heal properly if she's under the constant scrutiny of a woman who feigns love and concern.

I close my eyes and slowly doze off as I start planning her move and how she'd be living here and getting to work.

~~~~~~

Your everything hurts when you wake up. You somehow someway rolled into the corner of the nest room and woke up with your body curled in a way it shouldn't. You're well and tangled up in your blanket dress and something sort of sharp has left an imprint on your leg.

Ever so elegantly you toss around till you're free of your bindings and dig around for the object that left a deep dent in your thigh. When you finally find it you nearly drop it from shock. It's the crown your wore when you and Tao were dancing on the cliff. You remember leaving it here so your grandmother wouldn't ask you a million questions or worse, throw it away...

But why's it in here?

Maybe he meant to put it up somewhere safe and accidentally sort of just left it lying around, you think before quickly dismissing the thought. That wouldn't be very Tao of him.

You wrack you brain for a moment longer before you hear a knock. Turning your attention to the open doorway you see Tao's hand tossing a bag towards you.

"I woke up early this morning and it seems like the storm has mostly cleared up. I uh... I hope those are the right size," he clears his throat before excusing himself to the kitchen.

You scramble towards the bag and pull out the shirts, dresses, and pants and stare at them stunned. These were all designer brands and they all looked like they'd fit you perfectly. You want to try them all on, only problem is that you kinda wish you had some undergarments.

Picking up the bag to set it aside you feel that there's still some weight to it and see a couple of thin black boxes in there. You roll your eyes hoping that there's not over priced accessories in them or you'll have to chew Tao out for unnecessary spending.

When you open the first box your jaw drops and you feel your eyes widen to what it probably a cartoonish size. In the first black box was a set of grey and black lacy under things that looks like they'd fit like a dream. That being said, you quickly check the other box and see a black and blue set with a gold little details on it.

Your brain short circuits because both of the sets are Tao's colors. For a moment you start thinking that there's some weird hidden message here but knowing Tao who is straight forward you quickly abandon that thought. He probably just asked for help or something and they picked out sets based off of his colors thinking it's a gift for his girlfriend or some shit, you reason with yourself.

Feeling a bit more settled knowing that Tao would never gift you lingerie in his colors you set to trying on the black and blue one. As you thought, it fits perfectly. You toss on a simple light grey shirt and shimmy into a pair of blue jeans before gathering all the clothes he had gifted you into a neat folded pile.

You trot to the bathroom first before heading to the kitchen when you get the silly idea to go back to the nest room and put your crown on. You quickly settle in on your head and tip toe to the kitchen. You see Tao chopping something up but he quickly stops like he knows you're there.

"Did anything in that bag f-" He stops talking the second he turns around and his eyes widen and mouth straightens like he got caught doing something wrong.

You wave your hand at him, "Earth to Tao, you good buddy?"

He shakes his head and runs his claws through his hair before promptly returning to the chopping block, "Just fine... I uh see you found something to wear in all of that."

"Oh yeah, thank you by the way." You smile as you walk up to his side. "What are you working on?"

"I'm trying my hand at pastries. I gave up too soon the first time so I thought I'd try again," he shrugs, continuing his chopping of what looks like pistachios. "Oh and I... I made you some breakfast, it's on the bar."

You look up and see a crazy ass spread of every breakfast food imaginable. Part of you is confused but your stomach could care less about you being confused because you're hungry ass hell.

Circling around the counter, you make a jump start to the barstool and stick the landing as you grab at waffle and take a quick bite.

"Oh by the way," you pause to swallow. "You should return some of those clothes."

Tao stutters his knife and nearly slices a finger, "Did they not fit?"

"No, they all look like they'll fit perfectly it's just that they're high end brands... You shouldn't have to pay that much money for clothes. Like, I appreciate it, don't get me wrong... But this is too much," you look down and feel a bit of guilt for almost readily accepting these gifts.

You hear Tao chuckle and look up to see him shaking his head, "Believe it or not, I know what designer brands are. I bought those for you on purpose, no one ripped me off, and yes, I can afford to spend like this ever so often."

"But-"

"I'm not returning them," he looks down and swipes the chopped nuts into a bowl on the side.

You mutter something about how he should save that sort of thing for his mate and you swear you hear him grind his teeth. You quickly dig into your breakfast as you try to ignore the strange tension in the room. You notice Tao is acting a little off, not just with the clothes and breakfast but with his entire demeanor.

He seems more stern with you than usual and a bit more attentive than you care for. Your glass is empty for hardly a minute before he refills it with juice but somehow avoids looking in your general direction.

You try to ignore it but it's bothering you way to much, "Tao, buddy, are you ok?"

Tao turns and before he says anything you hold up your hand, "Because you've been acting really weird since I got up and please don't tell me this is because I trauma dumped on you yester because if it i-"

"It is, and it isn't," He admits and sighs as he tosses down a towel he was using to wipe off the counter.

"So what's wrong then? Are you mad at me? Annoyed? Is this... is this a pity thing? Oh gods please tell me this isn't a pity thing..." you start to panic and sprint out of the stool to the nest room.

Gifts are one thing but pity gifts piss you the fuck off.

Tao catches you before you make it past the bar and holds you in place, "I did none of this out of pity! I would never do something like that to you, I only wanted you to feel comfortable and provide you with the clothes of your own."

You feel yourself tensing, not used to others giving a rat's ass about your comfort without some sort of strings attached... But this is Tao, there wouldn't be a 'but' or 'however' or 'you owe me' added to his gifts and if he says he doesn't pity you then he doesn't pity you. Simple as that. Right?

"It just feels wrong somehow... I don't know why but it does," you slump. "Like I'm not worth the trouble of doing all this stuff for or getting really nice gifts."

"And who said that you're not worth it?" He crouches down in front of you, still holding your arms. His gold eyes search your face as he brings a hand up to cup your cheek. "Was it the girls who harassed their starving classmate? The mother who got high while her children suffered? Or the grandmother who shamed her granddaughter while she's healing? Because not a single one of those imbecilic curs has any room to speak of your worth nor judge you."

You feel your knees buckle and your eyes blur, "How can I be worth anything though? If I was, none of that would have happened to me, right?"

Tao shakes his head, "Your life isn't defined by your worth. You are not a commodity or currency but a person."

That's something you've always tried to tell yourself after moving away but it never felt real, never stuck its landing. But hearing Tao say it, verify that he knows there's more to you than what you can bring to the table just somehow settles you.

You fling yourself at him and give him the biggest hug you can manage that he quickly reciprocates. For the first time in forever, you feel seen. You feel safe.

"Hey Tao, buddy? If it's my day off you better let me sleep in." you laugh as you pull away, wiping the tears out of your eyes.

Tao sighs in relief and smiles, "So you'll move in?"

You smile back and nod, "I guess I should, I don't think I can go back to that hellhole."

"Thank the goddesses! I was trying to think how I should convince you to stay." He nervously laughs as he stands up,

"Honestly dude the breakfast kind of helped." you jokingly pat your stomach and he arches a brow at you.

"Really?" he tilts his head.

"Listen I was convinced when I woke up, breakfast just sealed the deal man. I'm a foodie!" You give him a silly pose and laugh.

"Oh I am going to regret some of this aren't I?" He rolls his eyes but smiles all the same.

"No takesies backsies." you grin.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Tao says and takes your.

[robiinurheart33]

I’m SUCH a sucker for drunk calls/texts confessing their love and y’all know I gotta project it onto ghoap (buckle up guys its a long one I had to break it into two parts SORRY) pt. 2 (clicks for Palestine)

Soap’s blood is pumping. He can feel it heat up in his cheeks in the form of a blush, giggles bubbling up in his throat and his mind loose enough to just sew together a semblance of a bad idea.

Deployment had been boring at first. Stuck at home with unending nervous energy, fingers twitching and aching for the solid feel of a gun, the rough texture of his vest, the adrenaline clapping him on the shoulder before shooting through his veins like a drug. It was so unendingly dull. It’s not like he had anyone waiting for him at his apartment in Glasgow, and their break time was too short to visit his Ma.

So why not invite a few buddies out to drink? No harm, no foul.

Well, that’s what he initially thought. A couple hours later of wheezing and pounding of the table, shoes sticking to the ground and the smell of booze wafting though the air, Soap could confidently say that he was wasted. He’s leaning heavily on his buddy, chum, pal, that he for the life of him cannot remember right now. He’s swaying from side to side, feeling unusually breathless as he mumbles what could be the song that’s playing right now. He’s not sure. He combs his fingers through his hair, scratching a bit anxiously at the nape of his neck. Soap’s not sure if he wants to cry or laugh or vomit right about now. Pretty sure that’s a sign to fuck off, pass out on his bed and deal with the rest tomorrow.

Soap pushes off his… friend? Wait, did he even come with him? And heads towards the general direction where the toilet is. Might as well not look like a homeless person before heading home, wouldn’t wanna scare anyone. His head is spinning, pounding, loud, loud, loud, and nowhere near done with its madness. Soap slams his hand on the wall beside the toilet door, squinting and hoping the door he’s reaching for is the actual door, not it’s double. He does, in fact, get the right door (small miracles), and pushes it open.

He fumbles with his zipper and exhales heavily as he relieves himself. The man beside him in the toilet exits with a sniffle and stumbles out, the music getting louder for a second before the door closes again. Soap leans heavily against the sink counter and washes his hands, placing his fingers together and splashing water onto his face. Soap drags his hands down before greyish-blue eyes look back at him with a piercing stare. He blinks, and re-evaluates again. His hair is flopping to one side, weighed down by sweat. His face is flushed and his skin glows slightly with a thin sheen of sweat, his freckles just shy of being seen under his rosy cheeks, eyebags evident through the haze. He looks down and- oh. It appears his attempt at splashing his face with water wasn’t as successful as he’d hoped, half of his shirt drenched in water. Soap tugs loosely at the corner of his sleeves, releasing the bundled up fabric at his pits. He frowns in discomfort as the sticky heat of his arms lay back down against his skin. He sighs once more, not really feeling like his lungs are filling with oxygen, turning around and laying his hip against the counter lazily before pulling out his phone. 0237. He swipes down on his home screen and pouts at the “no new notifications” tab. He unlocks his phone and swipes through his contacts, unsure of who to drunk text at this hour. Gaz is probably asleep by now, if anyone has a spotless sleeping schedule, it’d be him. Price would have his head on a platter if he texted him about anything non-military business. Laswell, no. Ghost?

Huh.

Ghost…could be someone he could text. Soap isn’t quite sure if he would be awake right now. Do ghosts even need sleep? He huffs at his little comment, tapping on their chat together. Do they have the kind of relationship where soap can dramatically drunk text Ghost at 2am right now? Soap lets out a little bemused huff when he sees that he reached a dead end to their chat after one swipe of his thumb. Of course. Right bastard doesn’t text anyone. He tilts his head up to meet the flickering white light of the bathroom ceiling, watching water damage and mold streak across the concrete. Ghost… how is he during deployment? Does he still wear that mask around the relative safety of his own apartment? Does he have any hobbies? Does he go to the gym as well? Does he long to be back on base? Does he long to be back in the chaos of the war zone, alongside soap? Does he think of soap? Does he ever think to- before Soap knows what he’s even doing, his fingers clumsily type out a greeting.

Hwlli

That’s not quite right.

Gellp

Nope.

Hellu

Oh my god.

Hello

There we go! Soap smiles giddily at his screen, bringing it closer to his face before very carefully writing a much more sophisticated and brilliant follow up.

U up?

He’s the smartest person in the entire world. He supposes a part of himself preens at the thought of even just being able to text someone like Ghost. Big, bad, Ghost. He decidedly does not giggle like a schoolgirl. Just as his mind starts to wander back to the world outside the sickly bathroom, his phone vibrates, and looks down in confusion.

Drunk?

Soap frowns.

Who

You.

Wanna try anf gues, Lt?

You are drunk.

He says it like it’s a fact, like he knows everything. It annoys Soap, much more than it should. He supposes that it could maybe be something to do with the massive amounts of alcohol thrumming through his bloodstream at the moment, but he knows for a fact that it slices through his brain, presses against his throat and contracts his chest.

Yiu think so?

I know so.

Soap thinks Ghost is being a real dick right now.

Ittle know iy all

You’re drunk, Johnny. What do you want me to do about it?

Johnny. Johnny. Johnny. His head spins. If he closes his eyes and imagines hard enough, he can hear the raspy gravel of Ghost’s solid, thick British accent murmuring commanders into his ear. Speaking of noises, his brain starts to register more of the music from outside, the start of a song that Soap can vaguely remember, but he can’t quite put his finger on it right now. The electric guitar, drums and bass all purr in his subconciousness, his lips parting over the words, moving silently as he tries to pinpoint exactly where in the song he is right now. There’s this tune… think of you.. repeat, until I fall asleep, spilling drinks on my settee…do I wanna know? Soap whispers, his mind curling and his ribs creaking. He feels like he’s truly, deeply losing it now, fingers slowly loosening over his phone. His head feels too big and his cheeks are burning, his shirt too tight against his chest and arms and his toes too restricted under his shoes. Everything was funny and everything was too bright and shiny and yearning and blurring and he wishes Ghost was here and he wishes everything was different and he wishes life could just be a little bit easier and-

His phone is vibrating.

Crawling back to you.

[artinvain]

𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔩𝔣 𝔬𝔣 𝔴𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔱 (pt. 1)

sevika x reader modern au (fluff & weed smoking… mdni)

characters: sevika x reader, silco & vander .

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓₓ˚. ୭

when sevika joins one of the biggest financial firms in her district, it’s not a big deal to her. it’s not her passion, but she makes money, work is stupidly easy for her, she lives way over comfortably and if she wants she can choose her own hours. of course — she keeps to a basically military routine, she likes it, it helps her stop thinking. about her dad, where her mom could be, the last person she loved.

she’s waiting to meet up with the same old college buddies she always does. they meet at a dispensary cafe maybe once or twice a week. but sevika goes almost everyday — because it also helps her not think.

when she walks in vander and silco are making a noise in their usual nook, greeting her with hugs and a cig to start. when they were all together like this they became idiots. usually intellectual conversations about philosophy or politics, the latest in news, the latest in their lives and careers. but here it was babble filled laughter and no thoughts at all.

“do you guys want coffee or some of the stuff on the munchies menu?”

your voice is new, vander and silco quieten down in her ears as she looks up at you, the sun shining like a halo bouncing around your locs. she wants to say something, tell you you’re pretty. It’s what she usually does when she sees a girl she likes. flirts like crazy but now sevika can’t say a goddamm thing.

it’s the way you’re looking at her and only her. your lip bitten and a small smile poking through as you notice she’s staring. and you can’t help but look on with some strange affection, her soft dark skin, muscles underneath it flexing. her grey eyes — so unusual, smoky and cool. your manager had told you she was a regular so if you wanted a tip you needed to be nice. to sevika you are lovely — she can’t really describe it but you make her blush.

when you walk away with their orders, the boys are immediately hounding her. “would you have preferred vander and i left the both when you did all that?”

“I - did you - are you fucking blushing?” silco laughs so hard he’s coughing and slapping vander’s arm when she rolls her eyes. “my hearts, my stars, my god — you are! I haven’t seen you look like this in years,” he gasps.

“weed makes you overly dramatic, silco,” she retorts gulps gratefully at a bottle of water while vander continues

“seriously though, you’re looking at her like you have something other than ice in your veins” vander howls at himself

silco lights up his cigarette and leans back, “come now vander, sevika’s just afraid of her feelings, if anything — her blood burns too hot-“

“shut up.” sevika mumbles. it’s not untrue, she’d bounced around from girlfriend to girlfriend, but no one ever stuck and she never seemed to mind. the sex was good — sometimes okay. they never could quite match her though. “it’s not my fault I don’t get along with them,”

“oh yes it’s always something - no banter, not intellectual enough — but I think -“

“yes, what do you think vander?” sevika spits with a snarl

“I think you’re sabotaging yourself.” he says more seriously than intended. she has nothing to say. no remark - she can’t explain away a truth they’d been skirting around whenever it came to sevika’s love life. they’d been badgering her about settling down for once, let herself be known outside of their little trio.

“drop it, vander,” she glares and he only rolls his eyes leaning forward to snatch a lighter in her hand for his joint.

it just has to be then that you walk back to their table, startled by the sudden silence as you hand out their snacks. “is everything okay?” you ask and Sevika’s smile is small but fleeting.

“do you have a strain that can lift the mood?” ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

sevika greets you by name every time she comes in now, over tips you, pulls you into conversation when she knows you should be working but she knows your boss and he’ll let it slide for her.

“so, how’s the wolf of wall street?” you whistle handing sev a clear vile with her joint in it. “you have to stop calling me that,” sevika laughs, loosening the deep blue, tie, embroidered with silver stars around her neck. “but you are! you told me yourself you’re up at 6am every day to make your matcha latte before gym, and you look at your stocks, in your giant loft —“

sevika laughs albeit a little nervously at your teasing “I did not say I had a loft,” and you smile at her coyly scratching her neck. “but am I wrong?” you ask and she ducks her head, her shoulder moving with her laughter.

“ah fuck,” she groans with a smile “leave me alone,” sev says jokingly, and you roll your eyes “okay, if you really want me to.”

but you don’t move, and sevika doesn’t say anything. she’s just looking at you, taking you in — grateful your job doesn’t have a uniform so she can see you in your wide leg pants, dark green flowers springing forth and your tight top — purple, strappy and your breasts, pressed up against them. she looks away from a moment and you chuckle having seen where her eyes ended they’re tour of you.

“you look pretty today,” sev mumbles, taking a sip of water.

“thank you sev, you look pretty put together yourself — meeting with investors ?”

“yeah,” she grunts, “something like that — I don’t know, first time I’ve felt off my game. the company’s just very white and male. I don’t know if I got the deal.” she stretches her neck, “and I hate failing,” she lets slip. furrows her eyebrows at herself because why would she tell you that?

“hey, you’re good at your job, or you wouldn’t be up for a promotion,” she shrugs at your response “plus,” you sit down next to her, “if anything you can depend on the diversity token,” you smirk and nudge her with your elbow, smoke billows out of her mouth as she laughs. coughing slightly before sitting up straight.

“I know it must be annoying, always having to shape yourself up into this heterosexual role,” you sigh, sev offers you some of her joint and you take it without question, knowing it was just you and andy your co-worker today,

“and your jobs are always with all these white, men determining whether you look good enough or if you’re well spoken enough, it’s bullshit,” you sigh and sevika nods

“it’s like I’m never doing well enough I’m tired of it,” she responds.

“you should be tired of it, but you are,” you say firmly, “good enough — don’t let them define you sev, your work shows that you’re good for it.”

“thanks,” she smiles, she’d heard it before but it felt different coming from you, because you understand her. you’re not just trying to make her feel better. it is bullshit and you let her know that it’s okay to feel that way.

“vander and silco don’t really understand it. i mean don’t get me wrong they try. but they’ll never really know.” sevika sighs and takes the j back from you when you offer it with a smile.

“I get that,” you nod and tie your locs up out of your face. “hey, I have to go check on that table,” you spot a couple with their coffee cups empty. “but I’ll be back,”

she turns the words over in her head. she didn’t ask you to, but you were coming back to her — like you always did. the first to check in on her when she came in and rarely did you leave her without at least some conversation, even when the cafe was busy. you grab sev’s hand and give it a tight squeeze and it jolts sevika’s body feeling your soft hand in hers, so warm and you trace a circle on the back of her hand that she can feel long after you’ve pulled away.

sevika should be at home by now, instead she’s following you around, watching you clean counter tops and pack away snacks for the night shift to open later.

“so, I told andy like I can’t take her every table just because she doesn’t feel like serving — do I have something on my face?” you stop rubbing at a sticky spot on the table where someone spilled something, staring at her quizzically as she looks down at you.

“no,” she smiles and then her eyes dart nervously around the room, “sorry, I was just… looking at you.” you don’t say anything for a moment, “I think you’re really pretty,” she says nervously. she hadn’t complimented someone so gently in a while. it’d all been heated praises while her hands were guided to someone’s neck. so sev chuckles uncomfortably and turns her head to stare at a painting when you say forger.

“I could have painted that. like better probably,” she says and when she looks back at you, your standing so close to her she can feel your breath on her neck.

“I think you’re beautiful,” you say, and sevika chokes on her words. she’d always been “sexy” or “hot” or “super attractive” but no one had called her beautiful. cupping her cheek so softly and with no intent.

“I just was never sure how you felt, so I didn’t say anything,” you said, and sevika holds her hand over yours, looking down at you and smiling sheepishly as you lean up and kiss the side of her mouth. “I like you,” you grin at her blush and the way she tumbles over her words.

“of course yeah, i um - do you want to come back to my place?” she rushes out and a pit forms in her stomach when you blink slowly and swallow.

“I’m sorry, did I just ruin everything?” sevika asks bluntly and you shake your head, she holds your hand to her cheek, hoping you don’t pull away.

“no it’s fine. I want to, I do. but, I’ve done that a lot recently, I mean finishing my masters it was really bad. I kind of want something real,” you say shyly, trying and failing to pull away from sevika,

“we can take it slow,” what the fuck is she thinking. she’s never taken it slow. her longest relationship was three months and she fucked it up because she always priorities work. but, you’re beautiful and kind and smart and funny and she doesn’t know if she can just let you go. at least not that easily.

“let me take you home,” sevika offers as you lock up, the sun’s not down yet but she doesn’t want you to go. you agree and whistle when you jump into her jeep.

“wolf of Wall Street— this is impressive,” sevika rolls her eyes with a smile and turns her car on.

“just fucking give me the directions,” she answers and you laugh, getting your maps out “it’s not far from here,” you say.

“if you’re not busy, maybe you can come inside, talk and have some tea or — I don’t know, maybe not-“

“no yes. I would love to,” she replies eagerly, making her way down to your place, following the maps stoic directions.

“so you said you could paint something better than what’s in the shop?” you turn to her and she blushes — she shouldn’t have said that.

“I used to paint, and sketch,” she admits, used to as if she didn’t pick up her charcoal for the first time in months to sketch every detail of your soft face.

you nod, looking around her clean car, it didn’t look like one of an artist “you should show me sometime,” you mumble and flick the boulder of the sisyphus bobble head stuck to her dash. “this is a really fucking specific bobble head,”

sevika laughs and agrees, “I got it in greece at some really overpriced tourist shop. I don’t know, vander and silco got something too, all philosophy shit because we’re—“

“really pretentious,” you laugh and she nods along “yeah yeah. we all met in our first year greek mythology course and then again in philosophy and we kind of just stuck together. and I never buy myself anything so I figured.”

“why this though? why the reminder of eternal punishment on your dashboard, every day?”

“other than the fact that it reminds me of my oldest friends?”

it’s not like you didn’t understand. you have an embroidered quilt of plath’s fig tree poem hanging in your kitchen.

“yeah, other than that,” you dig, you know there’s something more there.

“I don’t know, I felt like I was sisyphus for a long time,” she admits. something about your aura was so damn relaxing, like she could say anything around you and you wouldn’t care. “I had accepted that I had to suffer.” she drums her thumbs on the steering wheel, “that being who I am was some cosmic punishment, but then. I don’t know I figured if my boulder was who I am, I’d have to keep pushing it, even if people failed to see how light it is to me,”

you nod, finally satisfied with her answer and look over at her. she doesn’t feel like she has anything more to say. and for once she isn’t scrambling for charmed words or flirtation, she just lets herself listen to you breathe.

“paradoxical but that’s what it is to be brown and queer in this world huh,” you say and sevika nods falling into a comfortable silence until you reach your flat.

a small victorian brick building, that’s much bigger when you’re inside. stairs leading up to what you explain are two other apartments. the tenants quiet but very nice and hardly home. you walk her down the passage to your apartment door.

she’s greeted by warmth and the smell of fading incense. you turn on orange lamps and a sunset one in the living room,

“you can put your jacket on the stand there,” you say, looking at her from over the kitchen island. “and take your shoes off, please,”

sevika complies and feels a tight knot it her stomach. nerves. why is she nervous when she knows you two won’t be doing anything. the way you’d seen through her in the car, you wanted to know her, not just her body and that scared the shit out of her. should she just leave? she’s ready to put her shoes back on when you walk past her into the living room with a tray, a teapot and two cups and some honey. it’s so sweet she decides against herself to sit down on your couch beside you.

she looks around while you pour her tea, the couch is plush, you’re venitian carpeting soft under her socks. you have a feature wall painted dark green and covered in abstract paintings and one family portrait.

“that you?” sevika asks, making out our plump cheeks and toothy grin, as you lean over who she assumes in your father. she thanks you for the tea and takes a sip of the warmth,

“yeah,” you smile, “my brother is late, but my sister lives like two streets down,”

“I’m so sorry,” she offers and gently lays a hand on your shoulder. you take it and kiss the back of her hand.

“shit, sorry,” you apologise and let go off her, but she wants you to do it again, can feel the outline of your lips tingling on her hand. “s’okay,” she nods and keeps her hand on your shoulder.

“viktor was my adopted brother, he was really sick.” you stop there and turn to her with a watery smile. “I loved him a lot,”

she can tell. nods solemnly and lets you have a moment, and then your laughing a little embarrassed and wiping your eyes.

“It was a long time ago, sorry,”

“don’t be,” sev says, “I wanna know you,” she smiles and you smirk back at her, your cheeky attitude back in play, “then ask me a question,” you say, she doesn’t know where to start because she has a million.

“how’d you know you were… I don’t know sapphic?” she asks tentatively. “well, I’ve known I was a lesbian since I was like twelve. there was this girl I alway hung out with —“ you’re smiling fondly and sevika lays over your words.

“yeah?” sevika answers getting ready for your story.

she leaves way too late, all you two did was talk and laugh and she hadn’t checked her stocks or taken any calls and she can’t remember the last time she wasn’t always working, even partially, even in her free time. when she gets home she’s on her laptop until midnight, taking an international meeting and all the while, all she can think about is sitting and watching the rest of the stupid magician show she’d started with you before she saw the time.

when she clambers into bed, for the first time she notices how cool the spot beside her is. she bundles herself up in pillows and falls asleep with you on her mind.

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

”I wanna take you on a date,” sevika smiles leaning on the counter where you’ve just finish letting a group of friends pay.

“you do?” you ask, “you doing it because you think I’ll give you discounts ?”

“I know you’ll give me discounts,” she laughs “I got something for you,” she pulls out a novel from her work satchel. “I know you wanted a physical to have, but you said you were too distracted to get one so”

the picture of dorian gray. inside the first page were names of people who had had the book before you, dating back to ‘97. you’d wanted a hard cover since you’d read it a year ago. but she’d gone above and beyond getting you a thrifted version, you liked the idea of a hand me down of something so many others like you had enjoyed and now you had one and she knew that. the thought made your heart thump.

“where did you get this?” you ask, touching over the names of all the people who’d signed it,

“just looked at like four different second hand book stores,” she shrugs and looks on fondly as you excitedly flip through the annotated pages.

“thank you!” you lean over the counter and kiss her cheek.

“and not that that was a bribe or anything but-“

“I obviously want to go on a date with you vika,” she blushes at the nickname, her heart beating a little faster. “yeah?” “yeah,” you nod and jump at andy’s snide remark for you to start your shift.

“I’ll pick you up after work,” she taps on the counter and smiles widely, the bell on the cafe door ringing loudly in her ears as she exits. for the first time in a long time, she’s more than just living. the air smells fresh, colours and bright and her heart is pumping hard, hot blood coursing to her cheeks as she thinks of you. tonight, tonight, tonight.

okay next chapter is the date and maybe a sexy little smut scene hehehe or angst. who knows? not even me. 🏷️ @iamaboringrattat @archangeldyke-all @sevsbaby @sapphicsgirl @bimboprincezz @opropheticsoul @ariariarr @sexysapphicshopowner

[hyugaswhore]

are we exclusive? ft. suna rintaro

syn✧psis : you loved him. and he loved you. but neither of you wanted to admit it; leaving you in the throes of your non-existent relationship.

c✧ntains : mdni. f!reader. slight bit of smut in the beginning. all characters 20+. minor spoiler (league team/ejp raijin). smut to fluff to angst. angst no comfort. you shout at him and he shouts at you in return. no happy ending. 2.5k words.

life's all fun and games until someone falls in love.

your eyes close in pleasure as suna kept thrusting, hitting that spot over and over again. moans and grunts accompanied the skin slapping echoing through the room as he pistoned his hips rhythmically.

wrapping an arm around your waist, he started to rub your sensitive nub, bringing you closer and closer to your high. "fuck, baby, y'feel so good around me," he grunted, his husky voice sounding like music to your ears.

a whine escaped your lines as you gripped the sheets harshly, digging your face further into the soft cushion. you babbled his name like a mantra, as if those words were all you've ever known. your back arched alerting suna the knot in your belly tightened.

pride swelled in his chest making him quicken his pace, his fingers becoming rougher on your poor clit. while your moans grew in volume until you were pushed off the edge, harshly coming on his cock, a final scream accompanying it.

the man didn't stop, trying to chase his own high. after a few more thrusts, he stilled as he pumped his cum in you, the warm filling sensation becoming all too familiar to you.

he collapsed beside you as he pulled out, the sticky white liquid oozing out of you. bated breaths sounded through the empty apartment, no other sound being heard.

the middle blocker slung an arm around you as he nuzzled his face affectionately in your neck while a small smile started to crawl its way onto your lips.

you both lay in each other's arms as the sun's rays shone through your blinds, the soft light kissing your skin as you both chuckled. you savoured the moment as you both stared at each other. so many things unsaid swirling in the pools of emotions you never admitted.

"...rin?"

the man hummed in response.

your mouth opened as you wanted to ask the question you've wanted to for months now. just three words. just one sentence. just one question. then i'd know.

the unexpected pause made him look at you in curiosity, a whisper of your name leaving him.

"i..." you sighed. "nevermind."

he reeled his head back as sharp yellow eyes narrowed at you. after receiving confirmation that you're not gonna speak again, he sighed too. removing his arms from you, he got up from the bed and the pitter-patter of his footsteps sounded as he wandered around your apartment. you find yourself frowning due to missing his warmth, not thinking he'd be leaving so soon.

the sound of water made your ears perk up, the middle blocker suddenly leaning on your doorway with a small smile, "let's get you cleaned up yeah?"

a grin soon replaced your sullen look as you nodded, "yes pleaseeee," you whined playfully, extending your arms in a grabby motion.

the athlete chuckled as he hooked his arms under your knees and neck, carrying you over to the sweet-smelling bath. he carefully put you down as he pecked your forehead and got in himself, rubbing circles on your back in an attempt to alleviate the soreness.

your relationship with suna rintaro was unusual. it wasn't one that could be defined as a simple friendship, nor was it a normal romantic relationship.

no, you two were fuck buddies.

on the notion that you two would strictly keep a friends with benefits relationship. no strings attached. a relationship that didn't have to deal with all the nonsense and problems that came with being a couple.

but even with your mutual agreement, even with all the stupid decisions, even with all the unsaid 'i love you's,' you had fallen for suna rintaro.

you stirred awake by the heavy footsteps frantically scurrying through your apartment. "rin...?" you called, rubbing your eyes to force yourself awake somehow. when you didn't hear a response you groggily got up and walked to your doorway.

eyes darted to the man speeding through the living room, trying to get all his stuff in his duffle bag.

with a yawn escaping your lips, you looked at the man in unconcentrated confusion, "why such the rush? you don't have practice today, come back to-"

"captain texted, he said we should go practice today 'cuz the storm died down," he said with uncharacteristic edge and haste.

ears perked up and becoming more alert, you asked, "what time is it now?" worry laced in your tone.

"2 pm," upon saying that, the brunet dashed out your front door with you quickly following him in tow. "did you even eat anything?!" you shouted in concern.

the middle blocker didn't miss a beat as he turned the corner swiftly, "no time!"

your eyes narrowed in irritation as you let out a sigh rubbing your temples, "this man will be the death of me."

the next half hour was spent with you showering, getting ready, and of course, preparing his food: two egg rolls, four sausages, two meatballs, broccoli and sliced carrots, some cherry tomatoes, coupled with white rice and a plum in the middle. and if it wasn't already enough, you put three onigiri left over from last night's takeout. you wrapped the lunchbox neatly before promptly rushing out the door.

luckily, your apartment was close so the drive to the gym only took seven minutes. you parked your car and briskly walked inside the building. a certain friendly libero greeting you as soon as you walked through the glass doors, a hearty hello with your name as he waved cheerily.

turning your head in the direction of his voice, a smile made its way onto your face, "mori! hey!" you waved back.

he approached you in four quick strides and gave you a hug. as he let go, a smirk appeared on his face, "ohhh, you here for someone? visiting your boyfriend?" he teased, eyeing the bento box in your hand.

blood rushed quickly to your cheeks, and you playfully shoved him away before he could notice. which he did. calling a quick 'shut up' and walking past him towards suna.

he was talking to washio, probably about their next game you guess. the raven haired man saw you approaching and waved to you, a pleasant 'nice to see you' from him. this caught the brunet's attention as he swiftly spun around with genuine confusion calling your name, "what are you doing here?"

a prideful grin broke through your face, closing your eyes and showing him the wrapped lunch, "i made you food!"

as you held up the box, you failed to notice the fox-eyed man's flush and his friend's extreme side eye.

"that's really nice of you," washio chuckled behind him, "though why only bring him lunch now?" he asked, looking at the clock near the doors, 3:47 pm.

you didn't miss a beat, "he didn't eat anything before he left the apartment," you replied, a slightly annoyed expression meeting a sheepish one.

but washio eyes widened as he easily caught your slip-up, "the apartment? you two live together?"

both of you stilled, panic glossing over your eyes. the brunet whipped around, clicking his tongue, "we don't. i was just walking by her house when the storm started to get bad." you nodded behind him confirming his lie.

"ah, very lucky you were close by," the black-eyed man said as he looked between you both, seemingly not buying it. but your shoulders both slumped in relaxation as a chuckle left his lips. "no wonder he's extra sluggish today," he joked, slapping the brunet's back. "i'll go tell the captain about it, i'm sure he'd like to have you back at top form, so go on ahead and eat," he waved to you both as he walked away.

the middle blocker stood a bit stunned as he mumbled a thank you to his teammate before turning around and pushing you to one of the quiet corners of the room. he sat down and pulled you with him, a confused "what the hell are you doing?" escaping you.

he took the box from your hands and started to unwrap it, "you didn't eat either, did you?'

he rolled his eyes when his question was met with silence, "dumbass."

the man grabbed the chopsticks and picked up one of the meatballs, holding it up to your lips.

blood once more rushed to your face, "rin what if someone sees?" you panicked, holding your hands in front of your face.

clicking his tongue in annoyance, he shoved the food further in your face, "do you wanna eat or not?"

you groaned in frustration as you dropped your arms, accepting defeat and opening your mouth.

"see that wasn't so hard was it?" he teased, the corners of his lips tugging into a smirk.

but what you didn't know was that he had fallen too.

footsteps trudged through your apartment as you sat in your studio, hand-sewing the layers of tulle onto your client's dress. the sounds of the steps coming closer until they seemingly stopped at your doorway. casting a quick glance towards the man standing there, you smirked slightly, a giddy feeling blooming in your chest. "couldn't keep away from me, huh? i know i'm irresistible rin but you were here three hours ago," you teased.

the middle blocker mirrored your own smirk, "i wasn't the one shouting 'more! more! more!'" raising his voice to mock you.

you looked at him in shock and offense as you pointed your needle at him with a flushed face, "shut the fuck up!"

his laughter boomed through the walls causing your own laughter to mix in with his. soon enough the sounds of joy died down and the room overcame a comfortable calmness.

sparing one more glance, a small smile tugged at your lips as you saw a tiny grin resting on his handsome features. chuckling, you decided to tease him one more time, "you know, if i hadn't known any better, i'd think you've fallen in love with me by the way you're looking at me like that."

your eyes trained back on the dress, not ready to see the inevitable look of disgust and call of rejection. so you weren't able to see the red quickly painting his cheeks. "keep dreaming, princess," he defended with just the slightest hint of edge in his tone.

the smile you once held quickly dropped into a frown, obviously hurt and embarrassed for even saying that. you wanted to just drop into the ground and never appear again; clinking glasses with hades was never a bad idea, no? pulling the dress closer to your face, you squinted at the non-existent details of the stitching in an attempt to hide yourself.

a suffocating stillness replaced the once peaceful silence.

the brunet coughed, trying to break the awkward atmosphere. "i'll uh, go cook dinner," he said, walking away briskly.

hearing this alarmed you, rising from the floor in an instant and walking to your doorway shouting "but rin i don-"

"samu said you haven't had a good break in a few days," he shouted as loud clangs echoed from the kitchen. "so 'm cooking our dinner and we're binging ghibli movies after!"

"i didn't agree to any of this?! i could kick you out right now you know?"

"wasn't asking babe and you wouldn't do that!"

the falling wasn't immediate, no, it was slow, and envious, and livid.

neither of you realized the starving touches, the longing looks, or the details paid attention to, but it was already too late because you both had fallen too deep.

a defeated sigh left your lips as you reluctantly double tapped the photo; a sour tase left in your mouth as you glared stared at the lucky person your boyfriend fuck buddy was on a date with. the frown settled on your lips only grew wider as you tapped into the comments.

you laughed lightly as you read the team's banter. it was adorable how they all act the same even after all these years. but that same smile soon disappeared as you typed your comment, a bitter feeling blooming in your chest. "fucking hell..."

fingers hovered over the post button before a loud ring sounded from your phone, surprising you as you recognized the familiar tone, "rin..." you shook off the nervousness and answered the call. "why're you calling me, dumbass? aren't you on a date right now with akira?" you said, trying to hide your irritation.

although the brunet knew you well. too well. he could pick up any and every tone change in your voice, even the slightest bit of annoyance, no matter how much you tried to hide it. "jesus calm down, 's almost like i'm on a date with you from the way you're saying that."

'god i fucking wish.' "you idiot it's rude to call someone else when you're on a date," you emphasized 'date' with slight venom in your tone, disliking the way he's with someone, being public about it when he never wanted that with you, and still having the audacity to call you of all people.

"yeah yeah, jus' wanted ta ask you something" he said quietly, sounding a bit guilty? sad? you couldn't quite pinpoint it.

"what?"

silence came from the other side before you heard very faint mumbling, not being able to make sense of what he said. what you could hear was 'date,' and 'instead.' your brows furrowed in confusion, "ri-suna i can't hear you, you keep mumbling."

you could hear a grumbled 'call' and 'rin' before getting agitated, "suna speak up! what do you want from me?" you yelled, voice booming in the quaint household.

the athlete flinched in surprise at your volume, your frustration, and especially that you shouted at him of all people. "fucking christ what's your problem? if you're just gonna be a bitch about me being with akira then i never should've called you in the first place!" you stared blankly with eyes and mouth wide open as the end call sound played from the device in your hands.

you shook with wrath from the abrupt and sour end to what may have been your last phone call with suna, throwing aside the gadget on the couch before you looked away. eyes suddenly meeting a framed picture of you and him. he had his arm slung around your shoulder, pulling you close as your backs faced the camera, looking out into the crashing waves and setting sun. a humourless laugh escaped you, 'it almost looks like a honeymoon photo.' you were glad that both of your expressions were hidden from the world. so that you could keep his love, or what you thought it was, a little secret to yourself. you'd never forget what he looked like—how he looked at you. as if you hung the stars in the sky, as if the world he lived in wouldn't be worth it without you by his side, as if you were the breath of fresh air he needed to survive. god how you wished it so much.

pinpricks of hot tears started cascading down your cheeks, aggrieve filling your chest. in misery and vulnerability you scrunched yourself up and buried your face in your knees, quiet sniffles and desperate breaths of air echoing in the broken home. your throat closing up as you recall the events following that photo. your heart throbbed excruciatingly, grieving for a love that never lived.

"...hey."

"?"

"are we exclusive?"

...

"no."