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saintchrollo · 2 years

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machi x reader. pillow princess!reader, stone butch machi (no ! bc canon, next). anyways this is a very specific dynamic. unbeta'd. im horny. minors do not interact.

it’s only after she steps out of the shower that machi sees your text. drying off her hair, she picks up her phone and freezes.

coucou i have sauv blanc (with me, for us) and i am incredibly horny so i am on my way i miss ur face and even if ur not In The Mood i miss You x

sent ten minutes ago. machi freezes, before setting her phone on the table. she curses the entire time she rushes through her after-shower routine.

the doorbell rings as soon as machi pulls on her boxers. she hastily throws on a random t-shirt before heading to the door. she takes a deep breath to act normal, because it’s hard to be normal around you. it’s hard to keep her composure when she’s near you.

she opens the door and has to take another breath. it works against her. you smell wonderful, soft honeyed ouhd that fills every ounce of her senses, that will hopefully linger on her couch.

“hi, handsome. i hope you don’t mind,” you say, with your suitcase next to you. “i came in late and i dont want to deal with my apartment.”

“uh, it’s all good,” machi says, grabbing your suitcase from you. “you caught me off guard.”

“well i was worried you weren’t home,” you say, entering the house, frowning upon noticing machi’s wet hair. “did i miss shower time?”

machi looks back over her shoulder. “yeah, ‘s why i didn’t respond automatically.”

“boo, i wanted to save water.”

of course you did, machi thinks. “how environmentally conscious of you.” her gaze goes sideways at your giggle. “you’re a freak, you know that right?”

“are you complaining?” you ask, taking off your shoes inside and already heading towards the shower.

“uh, no. where are you going?”

“i gotta shower, i’m sweaty and like a plane.”

machi sighs. “i guess.” she’s not really annoyed.

you give her a big smile. “don’t be like that. i’ll only be gone a minute.”

machi pours two glasses of wine before she lays down on the couch, just as she’d been planning. laying with her legs spread out. tv on low. grey’s anatomy, because you won’t stay too much about it, because you secretly like it.

it takes thirty minutes. machi can only tell because you emerge well into the episode. steam curls after you, and you're dressed simply. one of machi’s shirts keeps you modest up top, and a pair of her sleep shorts low on your hips.

machi’s eyes follow you as you move from the doorway of the bathroom to the living room. the way you so casually drop onto the couch, getting all up in her space. cuddle right up next to her.

instinctively, one of machi’s legs slides between your own.

“what are you doing tomorrow?” you ask machi.

“nothin’” machi says. she has plans to go to the gym, but they can easily be canceled.

“wanna fuck after this episode?”

your forwardness makes machi’s thighs involuntarily clench just slightly.

“your insatiable,” machi huffs. “but yeah. after this episode.”

you get bored of waiting. instead of watching the show, you watch machi’s throat, her collarbones and her face. her lips especially. why would you watch a show when there’s the most handsome woman in front of you?

your lips migrate towards her, magnetic, really absolutely not your doing. they slide against hers all to easily. it’s her fifth rewatch, it’s not like she actually needs to watch.

one of your hands cups her hair, acrylics sliding through her grown out mullet. the scratches cause her to relax, eyes fluttering shut.

they flutter back open upon receiving a sweet peck on her nose. your eyes are hopeful, glittering and filling every aspect of her face.

before you can even begin to tease her, and to get you to stop staring so intently, machi leans forward and gives you what you want. lips slide against each other, eyes slipping shut.

you’re carefully maneuvered into your back, machi’s lips still working intently against yours. without hesitating, your legs spread to make space for her. she doesn’t dare break the kiss. her fingers slide against the plush of your thigh, lifting it up and securing it around her hips.

you slide your tongue against hers, curling and swiping and sucking on her tongue until a choked moan left her mouth straight into yours. beaming with pride, your smile breaks the kiss and machi continues to suck her way down your jaw, paying special attention to your pulse points. the nips she leaves have your thighs quivering with anticipation.

“machi…”

“let me take my time,” machi reprimands. “don’t rush me.”

you whine and flop your head back down, stretching out under her so your back arches slightly, so your breast press upwards against hers. not one to be distracted, machi continues her way down, pushing her shirt up until it exposed your breasts, sighing in relief. she bows her head to plant her face between top ur breasts, taking a deep breath of relief which makes you giggle.

the giggles quickly turn to hitched moans as she begins to leave little hickies on the underside of your breasts, one of her hands slowly massaging whichever breast she wasn’t paying attention to. she loves the way the metal of your piercings click against her teeth, how sensitive you are with you pretty pierced nips.

her unoccupied hand quickly occupies itself. fingers gliding over your stomach, hooking under the soft cotton of your panties. she gently begins to pull the fabric down, lowing her head to leave lovebites at the newly exposed, sensitive skin.

you bite your bottom lip to suppress the little moans. machi eases your thighs further apart, gentle to keep you comfortable. her fingers sink into the gorgeous plush, eyes trained on the way little hairs begin to peak out of your underwear. the cotton barely contains you, and machi is perversely thankful that not even victoria understands her own secret.

you hook your knee over machi’s shoulder, lightly encouraging her. “she missed you,” you say.

“who?” machi asks. she knows. she wants to hear you say it.

“my pussy,” you pout. “everyday she was lookin’ for you.”

machi raises her eyebrow.

“she doesn’t talk to me like she talks to you,” you huff.

a self satisfied smirk sits at the corner of machi’s face.

“that’s horrible,” machi says, without an ounce of sympathy in her voice. she keeps a hand on your thigh, gently sliding it up and down until the muscle begins to tremble with anticipation.

she places kisses down from your knee to middle of your thigh, leaving little nips as she went. every bite brought a clench, made the wetness on your panties ever more evident. machi couldn't tear her eyes away.

two of her fingers slid under the waistband of your panties, gently sliding down around the thigh. the fabric was pinched between her fingers and her thumb. wet. it sends shivers down her spine. yours too, at how her fingers barely touch you.

you let out an airy, impatient whine, which machi subsequently ignores. she slowly, deliberately, pulls your panties to the side, stretching them to take a better look at your pussy. you weren't lying. you're wetter now than in any of the videos you've ever sent her.

machi can't help but dip her middle and ring finger between your folds, from your hole to your clit, purely intent on getting your essence on her fingers, which she brings to her lips.

she maintains eye contact with you while slowly pulling her fingers from her mouth.

"you taste desperate," she says, and you blush, heat encasing your body from your face to your groin.

"machi," you bemoan. "don't be mean."

she raises an eyebrow at you, while her hand lowers again, covering your pussy with your pretty panties again.

you whine again. machi meets with with a soft yet sharp smack to your covered pussy. it makes your thighs tremble and a high pitched 'uhn!' leave your lips.

"that's being mean," she says. "but you like it."

and gods it's embarrassing. you just nod and cover your face with the crook of your elbow, letting out the tiniest hum of agreement. machi's fingers hook under the waistband of your panties and slowly ease them off of you. she doesn't know why you bothered putting them on in the first place, if all that was going to happen was you would end up here, in her bed, naked.

it's almost normal.

machi disgards your panties to somewhere in the room, and lets her hands roam from your ankles, up past your knees to your thighs. with each inching movement she pushes your legs apart more and more, until you're fully exposed.

she could look at you like this all day.

"give me your hand," machi insists. and you blindly do. she takes it, hooks it around the back of your thigh, and presses it closer to your chest. "now don't move."

one of her hands finally freed, machi lets her fingers drag through the warmth of your cunt again. spreads your lips so she can see what she's been daydreaming about for weeks. your hole clenches at the exposure, and a dribble of slick escapes.

it makes machi smirk.

her middle finger glides from your hole, collecting the breath of slick, before swirling it around your clit. you bite your bottom lip and your hips scoot closer to machi.

she doesn't tease you for it. not right now. instead, she slowly slides her finger into your heat. you practically suck her finger in, and machi almost feels bad for how horny you are. especially once you start to gently cant your hips against her finger.

"baby, it's just one," she says.

you lift your head up to glance down at her. even sitting up on one of your elbows, it causes her finger to adjust within you.

"look at my nails."

machi tilts her head to the side. "you think that you can come from just one finger?"

"i don't want to come from just one finger," you huff.

very slowly, machi begins to move her finger inside of you. a simple, easy coaxing motion until she can slide in a second. "no? how many do you want to come from, then?"

it's unfair, because she asks the question and swirls your clit with her thumb, despite the expectation on her face. the quirk of her eyebrow.

"however many it takes-- it takes to make me feel good." the 'o's are drawn out, as machi begins to pick up a steady pace of moving her fingers in and out of you. they curl as they enter, actively searching for the gummy, coarse spot within you.

"i think you felt good with just one," machi points out, "but you'd complain if i only let you finish with just one."

your whines turn into little, punched out moans, as her fingers keep a steady, steady rhythm. she can feel as your walls start to tighten and doesn't let up.

"c'mon, baby. you gotta have the little one to have all the big ones later," she says, coaxing you closer to the first wave of your orgasam. she lowers her head, fixing her lips around your clit. the moment her tongue swirls around the enlarged bud, your hands immediately knot in her hair, pulling her closer. her fingers dont stop their in-and-out of your pussy, and the saliva leaving her lips from where they're sucked around your clit just creates more wetness.

when you cum, it's with a whiney moan, your hands scrambling for the bedsheets and her pillowcase, your legs straightening out and vibrating as the orgasam shoots through you.

even as your chest heaves and your thighs stop quivering as much, machi doesn't move. she simply slides in a third finger, involuntarily bucks her hips into the mattress and moans along with you. she continues her steady in and out pace, and the warmth in your gut grows. grows and grows more than you thought it could.

machi glances up at you, through her lashes and up your body. your head is tossed back, your breasts shaking with each inhale, tummy quivering. it must have been a long time since you've touched yourself, machi concludes to herself, just as your hip buck wildly off the bed and she has to release your thigh to hold your hips steady to not break her nose as the second wave of your orgasam rocks through you.

satisfied, machi pulls back and very gently rocks her fingers in that coaxing motion inside of you, guiding your high down as her movements become slower and slower. when she removes her fingers from you, there's a wet shlick that follows.

you breath heavily, eyelids barely staying open as you look down your body at machi. an unspoken agreement floats between the two of you.

machi is quick to lean up your body press a kiss to your lips, tweak your nppl ewith her cum stained fingers, and heads to the kitchen to get you a glass of water from the kitchen and the strap from her bedside table, unused since you were last over.

#machi x reader #this is an ode to my réponse to the when i get asked if i am single at work #‘i like girls that look like young m.a””’#there is something about having having sex with a butch and they’re just ……#SCREAMING INTO MY PILLLOW

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missmonsters2 · 3 years

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today I feel awful... idk my insecurities are taking over me and I just want to curl into a ball and cry. maybe it's my hormones maybe the fact that I weighted myself and found out I gained weight (I can't fit into my jeans 😭) and the fact that I saw my sister in a tight skin dress looking perfect while I'm in my pj's just destroyed my confidence. I need something angsty to read to make me forget about my sad, miserable lffe right now. would you be down in writing sth angsty with nat maybe? you don't have to though. it's fine either way. I really appreciate all of your work and I keep reading on repeat whenever I'm feeling down. makes me cheer up. thank you, van ❤️

It's like we're the same person because I also went to visit my sister recently and my sister has gotten her life together and is living her best hot girl bod while I...let's not go there.

I just want you to know that you're hot as fuck and a body is just a body that we can change with time and effort. We're lit rally in this together. This time next year, we will be rocking the body that makes up happy and we'll be healthy!!! 💘💘

But I will still give you nat angst...but with a happy ending bc I said you deserve a HEA!!

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The Withers of Springtime Bloom

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spring is a time of blooming and when things come back to life. You can't help but notice things that may be causing your relationship with Natasha to wither.

Warnings: self-esteem issues, insecurities about body, relationship with working out and food, seasonal depression. angst with HEA.

Count: 2.1k~

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You're not sure when things changed.

Things change so slowly after all.

Without you noticing, things change and change and change until one day, you do notice.

You notice that Natasha has become quieter, somber.

You notice the lack of date nights and affectionate touches.

You notice that you've let yourself go a little.

You're standing in front of the mirror, staring at your body with a frown. You've gained weight since dating Natasha, but relationship weight gain was normal, wasn't it?

But you remember how Natasha was just as fit as she was before she met you. Sure, she was a superhero, and you were a regular civilian; there was no reason for you to train long hours as Natasha did.

Still...

You turn to the side and peer at yourself in the mirror again.

You can't help but wonder...were you becoming less attractive to her?

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It had been the beginning of fall when you met Natasha. You loved the season of change and when things turned into warm colors before withering away for winter to come.

Natasha had come like a blessing, and in the winter, she was just warm as the colors of fall. Instead of withering away, she bloomed and invested that warmth in your relationship with her.

Despite always being an early riser to work out, weekends were the days she stayed in bed with you just a little longer. There had been so many breakfasts, lunch, and dinner dates. You found yourself moving things around or neglecting to work around her busy schedule.

Perhaps that was when things began to change. Eating out so often and forgoing working out to spend time with Natasha was what led to this.

Spring has arrived, and things are coming back to life. Yet somehow, your relationship with Natasha was withering away.

"Hey," you greet her as you come home, shopping bags in hand. You bought some more clothes when things felt like they didn't fit comfortably anymore. The experience had been upsetting for you, and you didn't end up buying too much, telling yourself you didn't want to spend too much when you were going to lose the weight.

Natasha was working in her office, peering down over reports, and barely acknowledged you other than with a hum.

"Long day?" You ask her as you put your things away and walk over to her.

"Yeah," Natasha sighed. "Trying to get these reports done since Maria needs them tomorrow."

That had been Natasha's excuse for spending long hours in her office every night for the last two weeks.

You place your hand on Natasha's shoulder with a reassuring squeeze, but she leans to the side as if to readjust herself, but still away from your touch.

The sting immediately comes, but you try to push it down, so it doesn't hurt as bad.

"Right," you say hoarsely, but Natasha stares on at the reports. "I'm just going to get ready for bed. It's been a long day and all. Let me know if you need anything."

Natasha gives you a nod as you leave the room. You feel awkward as you lie in the bed you share with her. You wonder if you're taking up too much space.

There's a pang of something as you try to curl yourself to be smaller and only distantly realizing you've skipped dinner before you fall asleep.

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You fall back onto the mat, chest heaving and your lungs burning.

It's been a while since you've worked out, and now you're definitely paying for it with how unfit you are.

The gym is moderately empty with the hour it is. You hate going to a public gym because it always feels like someone is staring, but it's better for strangers to stare than working out at the Compound for people you know to stare at you.

The rational part of you knows that you should just talk to Natasha, but the emotional side of you whispers that you won't like what Natasha has to say, that she might even end it before you've had a chance to change yourself.

When weeks pass, and you weigh yourself again, you almost start crying because you've only lost a couple of pounds.

It's normal, you know it is. You're losing weight at a normal rate, but it's not enough. You know fast weight loss wouldn't make sense for your body but you also feel you don't have half a year to go back to your normal weight.

You sit on the bathroom floor for hours, debating what to do when you hear a quiet knock.

"Sweetheart, are you in there?" Natasha's muffled voice comes through.

You wipe at your eyes furiously as you stand up.

"Y-Yeah," you answer back. "I'm just in the tub soaking."

There's a moment of silence through the door before Natasha answers back, "Alright. Enjoy yourself. Did you want me to order anything specific for dinner?"

"No, it's okay," you tell her. "You order anything you want. I already ate on my way home." You think about the chicken salad you've been eating for the past two weeks and almost sigh.

Natasha answered that she just came back to see if you've eaten, but she actually had to head back to the Compound. You were Natasha shuffling around before leaving through the front door, and you let out the breath you were holding.

You actually take a long, hot shower before putting on sweats and a big hoodie.

The truth was, you were hungry. The chicken salad was okay on the way home, but it had been a couple of hours since.

You knew starving yourself wasn't the answer, so you went into the kitchen to see if you could find something healthy to hold you over until you could go to bed.

But you can't find anything in the fridge except for Natasha's leftovers from whatever she ordered the day before. You can't find anything except frozen pizzas and microwavable foods.

You check the calories on the back and let out a frustrated sigh. Checking your watch, you realize it's too late in the evening to go grocery shopping because, by the time you get there, stores will have closed.

You slump down on the floor, leaning against the cabinets as you let out a pathetic whimper while your eyes became hot with tears.

You miss Natasha. You want Natasha holding you and telling you it would be okay. But you couldn't have that until you were back to what you were when you met her.

The front door suddenly opens.

"Have you seen my—sweetheart?" Natasha started to call before she noticed you sitting on the floor. "What's wrong?"

You use your sleeve to wipe at your eyes as you sit up straight.

"Nothing," you sniffle before you start to stand. "I just stubbed my toe against the edge of the kitchen island. What were you looking for? USB? You left it next to the bedside."

Natasha stares at your back, hair still wet as she takes in your attire.

"It's a little hot to be wearing a hoodie and sweats, isn't it?" Natasha asks softly. "Doesn't seem like you turned on the aircon in here."

You keep walking, but Natasha starts to follow you.

"'m cold," you say quietly so she can't hear the tremble in your voice.

"Are you feeling sick?" Natasha asks with concern as you sit down on the couch, turning on the TV. You pull the blanket over you as if to make your point.

"No," you tell her because you don't want her to worry. "Just cold after a bath."

Natasha sets her things down before she takes a seat next to you. Even in the low lighting, she can see your eyes rimmed red and dampness of them.

You're refusing to look at her as you have your knees drawn up to your chest and stare stubbornly at the TV screen.

Then she hears it.

Your stomach grumbles.

"Are you hungry, sweetheart?" Natasha asks softly again. "We can just order food and stay in tonight."

Your cheeks grow hot. "Don't you have to be at the Compound?"

You don't mean to snap at her, but you can't help but feel embarrassed.

Natasha remains quiet for a moment, quickly thinking over the last few weeks before she feels guilt trickle in.

She doesn't remember the last time she ate with you—doesn't remember the last time she saw you eat.

"Sweetheart," she calls you gently again, and you bristle at the tone. "Is there something wrong?"

The fragile dam you've built to keep the weeks of compiling emotions at bay breaks, and you're hurtling down the stream over the waterfall.

"Are you not in love with me anymore?" You choke out as you begin to cry.

You can't even register to feel horrified at your breakdown because you just need to know.

"I know...I know my body has changed since we first met and I've gained weight but I really am trying to lose it. I just—I feel like you're avoiding me. At first, I thought things at work have been really stressful for you, and I wanted to give you space but you're gone all the time. You're gone even when you're here."

Natasha can barely understand anything you've said after hearing you say the first part. Her breath hitches painfully in the back of her throat, and she legitimately feels appalled at herself.

She starts to say something, but you keep going.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to make this about me because if you're going through something then I want to support and be there for you. But I can't help but feel like you're grossed out by me. I mean—I feel grossed out when I look at myself. I feel like I'm taking up so much space—"

Natasha cuts you off abruptly, pulling off the blanket as she pulls at you until you're in her lap.

"Nat—"

"You're not gross and this is not about the weight you have or have not gained. You hear me?" Natasha says forcefully as she holds you close to her, hand over your thigh to keep you against her.

"God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry if I've been making you feel like you're not attractive me," Natasha's eyes well up as your tears wet her shoulder. "You're literally still the most gorgeous person I've ever met and you're always going to be that to me."

Natasha's hand at your waist dips underneath your hoodie, her fingers trailing up your back as she sighs at your warmth. "I should've told you, but the springtime is just really hard for me. It's odd because it's a time for things to come back to life but some of the worst things have happened to me during the spring and things blooming makes me think about things that aren't coming back. I think it's also just a little bit of seasonal depression too. I'm just the rare percentage that gets it in the spring."

The explanation makes your body sag with relief because while you feel so horrible that there is a reason Natasha doesn't like spring, she's not falling out of love with you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize that I was hurting you," Natasha apologizes again. "I didn't mean to be so distant but I didn't want to bring your mood down as well, which is why I've been working so much to keep busy."

"It's okay," you muttered as your turn your head, forehead pressed against her neck. "I'm sorry spring is depressing for you."

Natasha merely hushes you as she kisses the side of your head.

You begin to feel awkward, thinking about how you must be heavy on her and try to move, but Natasha doesn't let you.

"Sweetheart, I don't know how to convince you that you're perfect to me," Natasha says so seriously as she forces you to look at her. "If you want to lose weight because that is what you want, then I support you. But I need you to understand that I love you no matter what. I don't care either way because you're so fucking lovely to me always. Do you understand?"

Timidly, you reply, "Okay. Thank you."

Natasha presses her lips against yours in a long kiss before she pulls back.

"Now, I'm going to ask again. Are you hungry? We can order in and watch that new show on Netflix I heard was pretty good from Wanda."

You feel lighter. You think you might still want to work out because that would make you happy, but you don't feel the rush like you did just a couple of hours ago.

"Yeah," you say shyly. "But maybe something not so heavy?"

Natasha nods as she presses another kiss into your cheek as she helps you settle onto the couch right beside her to grab her phone.

"Anything to make you bloom."

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff oneshot #black widow x reader #black widow x you #black widow imagine #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #mm: my fics #g.angst #g.fluff

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mandareeboo · 3 years

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ok now im curious what your most petty thing is (regarding the dp post)

Oooh boy, here we go! Buckle up fuckers this is gonna be a longer one.

My senior year of high school, I took a creative writing class. Partially because I needed to fill the slot, mostly because I wanted to improve my writing (spoiler: I did not). Now, my high school was a three floor building- first was mostly gym, second was general, and the third was senior lockers and art classes. I spent a good chunk of my schedule senior year on the second and third floor, going between an art class to my earth science (I took that one entirely as filler, but also bc I like science) to my locker and so on.

Creative writing? Creative writing was in the fucking basement. Go to the first floor, go to a corner generally used for health and development classes, to another corner, follow a ramp and some stairs, and boom there it is kind of basement. (Side note but this teacher was REALLY into attendance and would get you in trouble if you were late which was really annoying since basically no other class was in that part of the building).

My creative writing teacher wasn't bad, per se. I've had worse teachers. I had an algebra teacher who delighted in making freshman girls cry and mocking them for it. I had a journalism teacher who would use her class time reporting how Hilary was secretly ill during the election. I had a history teacher say trans people weren't real to an openly gender nonconforming student (I didn't know them well enough to ask for specifics on their alignment, but they were using they/them at that point) and set up assignments just to mock students on the take they were told to make. It was more that she was uncreative and took it out on the kids doing creative writing.

She gave us two books to read. Basically “how I write” by published authors. I don’t remember the first one well enough and I donated it ages ago, but the second was Stephen King’s “On Writing”. It was 3/4′s personal stories about his life and 1/4′s “also write a bit every day”. I mostly remember the first author bc she had those fake dreadlocks white people do when they destroy their hair and she gleefully told a story about making her son have a meltdown at a party or wedding or something bc he got overwhelmed and she wanted him to learn that “sometimes you don’t get what you want”. So. You know. Not much there.

She also instructed us to write in a journal every day, which she would check every few months or so. It had to be at least half a page. She would leave little comments in every one else’s journals when she checked them, but not mine- I realized pretty quickly she was a bit uncomfortable with LGBT+ content, so I made it my mission to make every journal drabble as gay as possible bc I was bored and she couldn’t mark them WRONG when she just stated we needed to write.

But it doesn’t end there! Through the entire class, we got exactly five writing projects. Stories that follow very specific guidelines that we would then read in front of the class, group proofread, and then have the teacher give final grades for. These things were approximately like a thousand words a piece, and I was writing out my 10,000 word “It Starts off Small” story in class when I got bored, so it wasn’t difficult.

Our first project was a character going through a difficult decision. Or... something? I honestly forget the criteria. Anyway, I was HYPE. I’d had this idea for a long time now a human choosing between peaceful death or reincarnation, and this gave me the push to write it! I had a whole thing planned with death being a deer and reincarnation being a wolpertinger (bc reincarnation leads to many possibilities, ed boy, so a Frankenstein bunny made sense to me). Anyway I poured my heart and soul into this bastard and, bright eyed and bushy tailed, handed it in. My classmates all thought it was pretty good. Not to toot m’own horn, but there was some pretty bad ones going in, so I thought I’d get a solid B or something.

I got a D. I guess the struggle was too metaphorical, or it didn’t perfectly fit her criteria. I was devastated. Then I was mad. Bc I was a bored senior who thought they’d made something pretty decent for this completely optional class and her refusal to see that really hurt me at sixteen (I was always a year younger than my other classmates, so despite being a senior I didn’t turn eighteen until almost a year after graduation)

Well, fuck it, I decided. I’m going to parody the shit out of this class.

Our next project was a fantasy story. I was bitter and grumpy. The other fantasy stories read aloud were stuff like “yeah this dude fought a wizard and got a girl, then they went home and banged” (this was not hyperbole, he would’ve written and read the smut if allowed, I knew him personally) and “this girl that NO ONE UNDERSTOOD was called CRAZY but this S@!$ cheerleader who Stole Her Boyfriend so she killed them all” (fun fact: the girl who wrote that was my age and a sort of half-friend from middle school. She was a yaoi fangirl who didn’t mind lesbians as long as they, you know, didn’t FLIRT with her or something.)

So I get up there. It’s the last day of presentations. And I present with a polite cheer. My story is about two magical shepherd type figures who are called Sister Brighten and Brother Dick as they chase down a werewolf who was drunk off his ass and accidentally bit someone else. They then revealed they were basically supernatural designated drivers for the whole town. I made Brighten mention that Dick’s name wasn’t even Richard. I titled it “His Favorite Brand is Grayhound”. It fit every single criteria. I got an A. I could tell she didn’t want to, because there was no comments or anything like everyone else’s, but she had to follow her own criteria.

Our third was a conjoined effort thing so I didn’t pull any fuckery there, but the fourth one was about common myths and spinning them into real or fake. One girl did the hook-handed door handle thing and the boyfriend ended up above his truck hanging (somehow???). I think someone did the age-old adage of a haunted wedding dress? I kind of read through those presentations.

Now, I’m salty-salty at this point. I wasn’t expecting His Favorite Brand is Grayhound to get me a good grade. I half-assed a lot of it. I am in full Not Happy Teenager at this point. I grab a daddy long leg and settle in.

My fourth story of the year is “Paperskin.”

Paperskin is about a boy named Billy with the thinnest skin membrane ever. Just full on body horror. You could see his teeth behind his lips. Billy gets bored one day and wanders out of his house, tries to kick a soccer ball, and breaks a leg. As he’s laying in the grass a daddy long leg bites him- and his skin is so flimsy the fangs sink in and he dies. I’m actually still pretty proud of Paperskin. It’s a horrifying, Edgar Allen Poe of a monstrosity, but it made people squirm, which was the point. The teacher is clearly a bit unnerved at this point, but she gives me another A.

I wrote a more “normal” story after that of a contentious objector forced to house kids going to see if any confirmed soldier deaths were any of their parents as my final one and I could feel her spite as she gave me a B.

So, yeah. That’s the story of when I tormented my creative writing teacher with The Gays and my weird ass sense of humor after she called one of my best works at that age a piece of shit.

Here’s a google drive of these bad boys, because yes I do still have these things. I turned these fuckers in for grades, people.

#Ask #Anon #Question Mandar #Life #Humor #Writing #I was a good kid I swear #I didn't make much noise and I didn't argue much #It was just this one lady

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lsvdw-blog · 3 years

Text

Not a Minute More: Part I

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings; Rating: Minor angst at the end; General

Premise: Ethan and MC are living in a honeymoon bliss and going about their normal routine. Then something happens that rocks Ethan to his core and threatens to change his life.

Author’s Note: New series comin' at ya! This is my first time writing fluff, so please excuse me if it's cringey 😅 Thank you to @choiceskatie for pre-reading!! I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading 💖

~ Monday, 7:00am ~

“Good morning, handsome.”

Serena walks up to an omelette-making Ethan, wraps her arms around his waist, and places a gentle kiss on his shoulder blade.

Ethan places one hand over hers, a smile spreading across his face, while the other wields a spatula.

He plates the omelette, turns the stove off, and turns in Serena’s arms to face her. He tightly envelops her, placing a sweet kiss on her lips.

“Good morning, indeed,” he smiles.

“Mmm, that’s my line,” she says, her hands moving leisurely up his bare chest, and her eyes trailing hungrily over his gym-honed physique.

Ethan lets out a hearty chuckle, turning slightly to grab their breakfast.

“As much as I’d love to take you back to bed," he gives her a quick peck, "you have a big day ahead of you, so,” he hands her a plate, “actual protein.”

“Buzzkill,” Serena pouts as she takes the ham, cheese, and veggie omelette from him. Ethan shakes his head in amusement and places one hand on her lower back to guide her towards the dining room table.

“For now, but in 10 hours…” he raises an eyebrow and smirks at her.

“10 hours and not a minute more,” she responds, sitting down, and giving him a stern look.

He laughs again. Something he’s been doing a lot more of since she came into his life. “Yes, baby.”

That seems to please Serena as she smiles and does a little wiggle in her chair, cutting into her omelette.

His apartment overlooks the glittering Charles River and the towering Boston skyline — a view people would kill for. But he’s not paying attention. His eyes are trained on the woman next to him. His t-shirt falls to her mid-thighs, her midnight hair tied at the nape of her neck, and the dainty gold necklace she never takes off is brilliant in the early morning glow. Serena shifts slightly and the faint smell of sunscreen wafts towards him.

“SPF on the face is important!” He grins at the memory.

She spends most of her time at Ethan's place nowadays. It's more private, compared to her shared apartment, and there's more space for them to sprawl out and be a couple. They cook dinner together, with Ethan learning to make her favorite dishes and incessantly asking her to taste test to ensure he gets the flavor right. They've made loading the dishwasher and walking Jenner into a two person job. He's even caught her stashing away some of his clothes in her overnight bag before: "I'm borrowing them!"

On the off nights when she insists on staying at her place to catch up on laundry or spend time with her friends, Ethan goes home to a dark and unwelcoming apartment. There is no source of laughter, light, or warmth. He never noticed it before, but now, Serena is his source of all of that, and more. Home is wherever she is.

How did I get so lucky?

“Why aren’t you eating?” Her head is tilted to the side and her brows are slightly furrowed.

Her question brings him out of his trance. He stares at her for a beat, his azure eyes filled with adoration. “Just admiring the view.”

Serena rolls her eyes and goes to playfully smack his arm, but he catches it. Interlaces their fingers and brings it to his lips. Her eyes soften as they gaze at each other.

“I could get used to mornings like this, you know," he rumbles.

"Yeah?"

He nods his head. "Yeah. I love spending them with you."

"The feeling is mutual, Dr. Ramsey." She leans in, stopping a hair's breadth away from his lips. "But I gotta get ready for my big day now," she says with a glint in her eye.

Ethan tries, and fails, to catch her lips with his own as she leans away and gets up from the table. "You're such a tease."

"Am I? Or are you just getting slow in your old age?" She playfully retorts.

Ethan stands abruptly from the table, chasing after her. Serena squeals in surprise and takes off towards the ensuite.

~ 7:40am ~

Ethan is leaning against the doorframe, arms and feet crossed, admiring Serena as she applies the finishing touches to her makeup.

"How many times are you going to stare at me today?" Serena questions.

He pushes off the doorframe and walks over to her. "As many times as you'll allow Rookie."

He hugs her waist. "Are you ready for today?"

Serena sighs and leans back into him. "I'm a little nervous. If testing doesn't go well today, we'll have to start from scratch. All our work, gone."

For the past few months, Serena has been consulting on a classified research project headed by scientists and engineers at Harvard University. The team was incredibly impressed with her capabilities, shown in saving Dr. Banerji's life and being the 2nd youngest member of the renowned Edenbrook Diagnostics Team, and liked that she provided a younger perspective. They brought her on and Ethan makes the 15 minute detour to drop her off three times a week.

"You all are ready. It will go great."

She locks eyes with him in the mirror. "Thank you, E."

~ 8:15am ~

Ethan puts the car in park, turns on his hazards, and turns to look at her.

"I can't wait to hear all about how today was an absolute success. You don't need it, but good luck." He squeezes her hand.

She nods. "Only 8 hours and 45 minutes left."

"And not a minute more," he smiles at her before leaning in to kiss her.

Ethan pulls away first, not wanting her to be late, but Serena continues to go back in for more soft kisses. After the sixth one, she finally pulls away smiling. She opens the car door, swings her legs out, and walks through the secured entrance.

~ 11:00am ~

The Diagnostics Team currently has no patients, so Ethan's morning is mundane, filled with meetings and endless paperwork. He itches to call Serena to break up the monotony, but knows she won't have her phone on her until lunch: no cell phones allowed in the lab. He settles on sending her a quick text — it'll be waiting for her. He pulls up their messaging thread, sends the text, and his eyes wander upward to see the remnants of their last conversation.

She had gotten, and dressed, Jenner in a new bow tie. She then blew up Ethan's phone with photos of Jenner, photos of her and Jenner, and even a few where she was wearing one of Ethan's bow ties to match.

"Look, we're twins!!"

Ethan re-scrolls through all of the photos and can't help the smile that lights up his face at how excited she gets about a small accessory for his dog. God, I love her.

There it is again, Ethan thinks. The 3 words and 8 letters that he never thought he'd feel, let alone want to voice. This feeling has become overwhelming in the past few weeks. He's reminded of it whenever he inhales the lingering scent of her perfume in the office, when he finds one of her forgotten face products at his place, the small moments they share when she sneaks away to visit him, "just because." It consumes him and makes his heart swell.

But he knows she's been extremely stressed with project duties, on top of handling the Diagnostics Team and regular patients. It just doesn't seem right to blurt it out when she's juggling so many things. But if all goes well, her portion of the project ends on Thursday and she'll be back to her normal workload. That's why he's been secretly making romantic plans for this weekend, not only to celebrate her success, but to also finally tell her how he feels. He wants the first time he utters those words to her to be special. Magical. Extraordinary. Just like her.

Just then, his pager beeps and he's pulled out of his second Serena trance of the day. He sets his phone down on the table, pulls out his pager, and is met with a message from Dr. Delarosa, asking for a consult. Just as he exits through the door, his phone lights up with a photo of Serena and her incoming call.

~ 2:15pm ~

The consultation with Ines turned into admitting the patient under the Diagnostics Team and the rest of the afternoon was spent running through possible diagnoses. Before he knew it, it had been over 3 hours and Ethan hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning. He can't help but think how much easier this case would be with Serena here and her perspective. Not only does her presence help keep him calm, but she always comes up with suggestions that would inevitably lead to the correct diagnosis. He throws his glasses on the table and pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration.

He begins to stand, wanting to make his way to his desk, intending to call Serena on the off chance she picks up. However, before he's even able to reach his full height, Dr. Banerji walks in.

"My boy, are you busy?"

"No. Am I needed somewhere?"

Naveen looks at him for a beat too long, causing Ethan's confusion to spike. Naveen walks to the center table and switches on the TV. There, panning around the screen is an aerial view of the Harvard University lab complex, surrounded by police cars and SWAT members, as well as multiple aircraft. In bold letters, scrolling endlessly across the bottom of the screen is: Possible attack at Harvard University labs. On lockdown.

Ethan gawks at the screen with wide eyes and his pulse immediately picks up.

"Isn't Serena at Harvard labs today?"

~~~~~~

Disclaimer: I know Ethan starts his day and gets to the hospital at an ungodly hour, but let's ignore that bc I am my MC is not a morning person 😅

#ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #playchoices #ethan ramsey fanfiction #ethan ramsey fic #ethan ramsey open heart #choices open heart #open heart #open heart fic #choices stories you play

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fantastic-bby · 4 years

Text

ATEEZ vs. college

Pairing: -

Genre: Headcanon

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: Swearing

Masterlist

Hongjoong

Fine arts major with performing arts minor

Has a slightly scuffed sleep schedule but it’s decent

But has a routine that he follows most of the time

Always on time for class and pays attention like his life depends on it

Gets teased by Mingi a lot

Shares an apartment with Seonghwa

Covered the apartment in cute DIYs bcs he wants to make the place more homely

Spends his money on artisan coffee at the overpriced café on campus

Teacher’s assistant

He’s very patient when it comes to tutoring students

President of the performing arts club and is usually the director for plays bcs the professor in charge trusts him a lot

Usually sticks to traditional scripts but likes to go a little bit more original whenever he feels like it

Uses the same tote bag everyday (one he made himself)

Dresses in whatever he’s made himself because he thinks they’re cute and he wants everyone to see his creations

Has to wake the others up for class he complains that it’s annoying but he still does it even though no one asks him to

Practically lives in the fine arts building bcs he’s there all the damn time until he has to go home

Finishes his assignments on time

“Hwa, is this cute?”

“Okay”

“That’s not an answer, asshole”

Seonghwa

Language and literature major

Is the only one with a good sleep schedule

Has a routine he sticks to

Never late to classes but zones out sometimes when he’s really bored

Has to wake Hongjoong up whenever he pulls all nighters studying for tests

Works at the library because it’s quiet and he moves around a lot which gives him a lot of alone time

Has to kick Yunho out a lot

Drinks expensive artisan coffee with Joong

Part of the nature club and has plants all over the apartment bcs he thinks they light up the place

Everyday is a different bag and all of them are super stylish and also seem to hold everything

Has to bring around things like tissues, bandaids, water bottles bcs he cares for his friends

Dresses well all the time even if he wakes up late

Part of the campus heartthrob line

The entire campus fawns over him even the single professors

Spends most of his time reading books wherever he’s comfortable usually the park or whatever bench is the most calming

Finishes his assignments early and submits them early

“But hyuuuuuung”

“Yunho, if you don’t get your loud ass out of here—”

Yunho

Nutrition major with a dance minor

Does not have a fixed sleep schedule, he sleeps whenever he pleases

His routine is nonexistent

He does whatever he wants whenever he wants but actually isn’t that reckless

He just doesn’t really have a routine

Late to class and also doesn’t seem to be paying attention because he’s preoccupied with a funny meme that Mingi sent him

Is usually the first to be awoken by Joong and always waits for his hyung to hang up because he doesn’t want to accidentally cut him off mid-sentence

Shares an apartment with Mingi

Drinks convenience store coffee

Sometimes he visits the library just to tease Hwa usually gets kicked out by said man because he’s being loud

Works part time at a bakery where the owner hired him because she thought he was really sweet

President of the swimming club

Has one bag for everyday use and it’s the same black backpack with random pins on it

Wears cute fuzzy sweaters when it’s not hot and wears plain t shirts when it’s too hot for sweaters

Spends his time at the swimming pool with Mingi

Finishes his assignments right before the deadline

“Yunho, darling, how long have the muffins been in the oven?”

“Uhm…”

Yeosang

Computer science major

Does not give a single flying fuck

Sleeps whenever he wants

Does whatever he wants

No one ever sees him in class but he still gets good grades

Drinks at least 4 cups of cheap coffee everyday which makes everyone wonder how his heart is still alive

Even though he sleeps at any time, he always wakes up on time and never answers Hongjoong’s morning calls because he thinks it’s funny

Shares an apartment with Wooyoung

He has a job but no one knows what it is because he’s never told anyone they just know it’s something he does online

Usually has to wake Wooyoung up

He just walks into his room and repeatedly calls his name until he wakes up leaves if Woo doesn’t wake up at all

Uses a simple black backpack with nothing on it

No one on campus really knows anything about him because he strictly sticks to his circle of friends and no one ever sees him on campus unless he’s at club events or meetings

President of the robotics club

Spends all of his time in his room when he’s not on campus

Dresses in smart casual outfits (blazers, slacks, sneakers, t shirts)

Is never seen doing his assignments but he still manages to finish them on time

“Woo, look this robot I made”

“Holy shit, that’s so cool!”

“Be careful with it!”

San

Majors in dance

Also kinda doesn’t give a fuck

Shares an apartment with Jongho

Has the most fucked up sleep schedule

He sleeps at like 7 pm right after classes and wakes up at 3 am (like his brain is programmed on another time zone)

Picks up Joong’s morning call whenever he feels like it

Comes to class on the dot but sometimes just doesn’t show up at all

President of the dance club

Drinks whatever coffee he can get his hands on

Spends most of his time in the public dance studio and sometimes rents the private rooms because he wants alone time

Dresses in t shirts and sweats because he wants to be comfy

Is part of the campus heartthrob line

The girls, the gays and the theys are in love with him and love watching him dance

Volunteers at the local pet shelter because he wants to spend time with the cats

Likes to go to invite himself into WooSang’s apartment where he bothers Yeosang who pretends he’s not there because he couldn’t care less

Doesn’t have a bag

He manhandles his laptop all over the place because he really doesn’t care that much his laptop is a beast tho it handles all the shit San puts it through

Finishes his assignments whenever he wants

“San, you should be nicer to your laptop”

“It’s fineeee”

Mingi

Medicine major

Doesn’t ever seem to sleep

Like ever

Disappears and reappears out of nowhere most of the time

Whenever he disappears, no one really knows where he is and he never picks up calls everyone thinks he’s finally sleeping

Because he’s always awake, Yunho always comes into his room to see Mingi either vibing or literally doing anything but sleep

Comes to class but is always doing something else

Prefers tea over coffee

Always picks up Joong’s morning calls and greets him really loudly just to bully him

Part of the swimming club with Yunho

Works part time at the music studio because he likes being able to use the studios when there’s no bookings

Barely has to try to get good grades bcs his brain is so sexy big

Always filled with energy

Is also really strong and quite unaware of his strength

Dresses in v casual baggy clothes and always looks really comfortable

Uses his height to tease Joong and holds his coffee above his head

Playfully wrestles Jongho regularly

Has a cute orange messenger bag that he uses all the time

Finishes his assignments minutes before the deadline

“Whoever holds their breath the longest wins”

“Mingi, we’re not five”

“I don’t care, Yun. It’s fucking fun”

Wooyoung

Culinary major

Is always asleep

Bothers Yeosang during the day

Has a very relaxed routine that he somewhat sticks to

Likes to break into Yeo’s room to bother him but usually gets a book thrown at him

Wakes up to Joong’s morning call but likes to go back to sleep afterwards

Always in class but no one knows whether or not he’s paying attention

The neighbours know when he’s laughing but he doesn’t care because he’s happy

Works part time at a café

Refuses to give discounts to any of his friends because he tells them he won’t get money that way except for Yeosang bcs he has a soft spot for his best friend

Vice president of the dance club

Dresses in casual layers (t shirts, loose button ups, jeans, sneakers)

Part of the hearthrob line

The girls, the gays and the theys love his laugh

Likes to drag San out of his apartment to do anything

Has a cute pastel backpack that he takes a lot of care of bcs he loves it

Spends most of his time in the culinary building bcs he wants to learn new recipes so that he can cook for his friends

Does his assignments last minute and has missed the deadline a couple of times

“Yeosang, try this”

“Mmm, can I spit it out?”

“You fucking—”

Jongho

Sports major with a vocal minor

Also has a decent sleep schedule

Drinks only coffee and protein

Doesn’t have a routine unless it involves him going to the gym

Early to class and pays attention most of the time

Wakes up on time so he answers Joong’s morning call just to say hi to both of his hyungs

Works as a personal trainer at the on-campus gym because he likes helping people work out

Asks San to sit on his back while he does push ups at home

The two of them are always working out together

President of the wrestling club and the entire campus absolutely fears him

Always wins wrestles against Mingi but only because he knows more technique Mingi thinks it’s not fair

His love language is aggression

Likes to playfully bully his friends to the point where even they’re slightly scared of him

Dresses casually

Has a dark blue backpack that he’s had for years and is in need of a replacement

Spends most of his time at the gym or just working out in general if he’s not practicing singing

Finishes his assignments a day before the deadline

“Make sure you’re not using your back when you’re lifting things”

“Dude, I don’t even know what muscles I use when I walk”

“You’ll figure it out”

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retro-rezz-the-est · 5 years

Text

Brat Tamer (Roman Reigns/Reader smut)

Summary: The reader’s not a wrestler, but she’s being intentionally bratty bc Ro doesn’t come back home to her. Ro decides to take things in his own hands when she takes her brattiness and her teasing too far.

Word Count: 6,510

Warnings: voyeurism, a small tiny large ass bit of possession/possessive behavior, Roman being an absolute beast who I want to wreck me into oblivion, mutual masturbation and I believe that’s it??? Forgive me if I’m wrong.

(A/N: This was supposed to be for reaching 600 followers, but I’m re-purposing it so it’s now @writing-reigns’s birthday gift! To my lovely talented amazing fantastic beautiful sassy big sister: thank you. You’re an absolute delight to be close to and I hope you know how much I love you. Happy birthday, darling!)

(A/N #2: Bracket texts are Roman’s btw lol)

You never did like it when he was away for so long.

In fact, you hated it.

You knew this was a part of his job: the leaving for long periods of time, the sparse days that he spent with you when he was home with you, the repeated sadness of seeing him leave. But, you knew that he loved you and you loved him, so you supported him anyway.

It would always be months before you saw him again, all smiling and warm with him in your arms. Video calls and late night chats on the phone weren’t enough for you. You needed him here and at home with you.

You longed for his touch, the warmth of his body seeping into your skin at night when he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him. But now, his side of the bed was empty, and his babygirl would curl herself around his pillows to imitate the feeling of him against her.

You missed the way his hair would flop forward into his face and his constant struggle with trying to push it away, you laughing every single time because it was just too damn cute. Just thinking about all the little things he did just brought a smile to your face.

But, you also missed the more…sensual parts of your relationship.

He would always do things to you that none of your previous lovers ever did, and just thinking of them sent excited shivers down your spine. You missed the way his hands felt on your skin, pulling at your hair and tugging at your nipples as he too you with wild abandon and left you satisfied for hours.

You missed the feeling of his mouth on yours and his body pressed against you as he made love to you and made you cum more times than you could ever count on one hand. You missed the way he'd wrap a hand around your throat and hold you down on the bed as he pounded you from behind, banging the headboard against your bedroom wall as he called you his good slut over and over again.

He always had a way of making you feel like the most pampered princess in the world and the most dirty, naughty brat to ever exist and that was just perfect. You missed the sting of the marks from his hands on your ass whenever you misbehaved; doing it to yourself just never felt right at all.

You pined for his hands groping your slick breasts as he took you against the wall in your shower right after he got home from a long day at the gym, and you craved the feeling of him burying his tongue in your pussy whenever he woke up early on weekends.

All in all, you just…fuck, you needed him.

Which is why it hurt so much when he rang you up that night right as you were about to leave.

“Wait, what?! What do you mean you can’t come home yet?!”

“I mean, I can’t come home because I’m still on the road, babygirl,” Roman told you again, him sounding frustrated over the phone. You could hear the rumble of the bus he was on in the background, and the sound of the other Superstars chatting away right after.

“Ro, I’ve been planning this dinner for weeks! You said we’d go out when you got back, and that was supposed to be today!”

He was supposed to come home that Saturday afternoon, with his princess welcoming him at the door as he finally got back from the European leg of the company’s tour. It would’ve been your birthday the day he shou;d’ve been back and when you told him, he had promised to take you out for a nice dinner and left it to you to plan out the details.

You both were supposed to have fun, celebrate him coming back from the latest leg of the tour and you surviving another year on this planet, and come back to your apartment to reconnect after months of being away from each other.

It was supposed to be perfect.

But it wasn’t and he wasn’t here, and you were left without your man, fully dressed in the skin tight red sleeveless number he always loved, hair and makeup done with your heels on only to be left alone at your door.

“You can’t just cancel on tonight because of your stupid fucking job!”

You kicked off your heels and stormed into the living room, throwing your purse on the kitchen counter and stomping over to the couch. You glared out into nothing, hoping that he could feel the weight of your stare through the phone. “I literally got all dressed up for you to just ghost on me!”

“You watch your tone with me, babygirl,” Roman warned, venom seething from his mouth. “I’m sorry that I can’t just hop off this fucking bus, grab my bags and stow away on a plane for you and get there in five minutes! You said you supported me going away when we started dating, so support me.”

You’re full-on yelling at this point, red in the face and close to tearing his eyes out when he actually gets back. “How can I support you if you do shit like this to me?! You fucking promised-”

“Stop!” he shouted, shutting you up immediately. He never used his dom voice outside of the bedroom before and frankly, it scared you but you weren’t going to let down your front that easily. “Don’t fucking tell me what I promised, babygirl. I said I was sorry and Daddy will make it up to you when he gets back, as long as you stop being a fucking brat about all of this.”

“What-me? Being a fucking brat?! Excuse me, Roman, but I am completely justified in-”

“Babygirl, look,” he sighed, the deepness in his voice fading slowly. “I swear to you that I’ll make this up to you, okay?”

You could feel tears pricking your eyes. Whether they were out of pure anger or sadness, you couldn’t tell. “B-But Daddy-”

“No buts, princess. I’ll see you when I get home. We’re about to reach the hotel, and I’m really fucking tired. This conversation is over.”

And with that, he hung up, the dial tone beeping in your ear before you turnt your phone off.

You managed to call the restaurant and cancel your reservation, take off your dress and your makeup and remove your jewelry without throwing your phone across the hall or punching a hole through your bedroom door. Slipping on one of Ro’s old merch tees, you climbed into bed and sniffled, crushing his pillow against your chest and sighing angrily. You contemplated between tearing your hair out before you went to bed that night or just screaming into the pillow. So, you chose the latter.

“How dare he?!” you yelled. “Fucking hypocrite saying that he doesn’t break his promises, and yet goes and breaks one himself! And he called me a brat for being angry? The audacity!”

All he had to do was give you a warning beforehand, a message or anything but nothing! Nothing from him because he put so much attention on his fucking work that he never even thought about you at all!

You flopped onto your back and kicked the blankets away, grumbling and staring into the dark void that was your ceiling for what seemed like hours until an idea popped into your head. You grinned deviously as you began to weave the idea into a full-fledged plan and you rubbed your hands together maniacally.

If he wants a brat, fine. I’ll give him a brat. Let’s see how much good that does him in the long run.

Game on, Daddy, you thought as you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, a grin slowly making its way across your lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was in the hotel gym with a few of the other Smackdown Superstars when you had texted him that morning. Setting down the weights he was lifting, he paused his music and wiped the sweat from his brow. Just seeing your name light up his phone made him smile a little, even if he did insight the argument the two of you had a few days ago.

Y/n (Daddy’s Babygirl)

morning Daddy 😚😚

[Gmorning princess. How've you been?]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

just missing u, that's all 🥺

[You know I'll be home in a few days. We've been over this]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

i know, but i can't help it. i miss having u here to take care of me 😢💙. ur babygirl's pussy is so wet rn & she needs her Daddy to come take care of her 🥺

[I'll take care of you and all your needs when I get back, just how you like it ;)]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

you better, or i may have to do it all by myself 😏😏😏

Roman looked down at his phone with wide eyes, sensing that you had something up your sleeve.

[Babygirl, what are you planning to do?]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

nothinggggg 👀😏

[Don't lie to me now, princess]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

okay fine, you're no fun >:P. i'm rubbing my clit thru my panties rn. they're

the ones u got for me for my birthday, and they're *soooo* soaked rn 💦💦

i'm all wet and aching and needy bc i miss u, Daddy 🥺

He could feel his eyes getting darker by the second and quickly got up, saying his goodbyes to everyone in the gym before grabbing his gym bag and speed walking through the door. He made his way to the elevator and felt his phone vibrate again, cursing to himself as the doors opened and he leaned against the back wall.

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

fuuck Daddy it feels so good but it doesn't feel the same

i miss your big fingers, Daddy. mine are too small and yours make me

feel the best 😻

[Princess, did I tell you that you could touch yourself?]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

...no???

[Take your fingers away, princess. I didn’t give you permission]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

...no

[What did you say?]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

i said no 😈😊

fuck, my pussy is so wet for you, Ro. i’m sliding my fingers thru my folds and they’re so wet for you 😩

i have to text with one hand bc lefty’s busy with my slick hole rn

[You better stop teasing me like this or else]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

or else what? you’ll punish me? i already have two fingers in me, about to be three

She’s really testing me today, isn’t she? Roman thought as the elevator doors dinged and opened on his floor. He quickly walked to his room, placing the keycard in the door and swinging it open. Throwing his gym bag somewhere near his suitcase, he walked outside onto the balcony and swiped a hand over his face, imagining you in one of his merch tees with your legs spread and your folds wet and swollen for him.

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

i can’t hit my spot like you do, Daddy. you always finger-fuck me so good

fuck, i feel like i’m gonna cum already from this 😩💦

[Babygirl, I said no]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

too late, Daddy. i’m pushing in my third finger ;3

it feels so damn good Daddy. i can’t wait until you get back anymore

His eyes got dark and clouded over with lust as he felt his cock grow in his gym shorts. Fuck, what is she doing to me?

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

i’m rubbing my clit with my thumb now. dragging my nail across it too

i’m picturing it as your teeth bc you love to use them when you go down on me 🥺

[I said to fucking stop already. Listen to me, (Y/n)]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

Hmmmm….how about…no 😋

i’m about to cum Ro. gonna squirt all over my fingers for you 💦

Is she really going to…? No, she wouldn’t disobey me like that, would she?

[(Y/n), you better not or else you’ll regret it when I get back]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

shit, i’m cumming Daddy fuuuuck

His mind is immediately bombarded with the vision of you soaking your bed, your juices flowing from you and staining your sheets. He heads back inside, closing the balcony door before throwing his phone on the bed and sitting down himself.

[You done having your fun, princess?]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

mmhm ^^

i came so hard for you, Ro. you wanna see?

He gets a picture right after, opening it to see your inner thighs glistening with your juices, your hand forming a peace sign as your digits are coated with your cum. Growling deeply, he closes his texts and moves to call you, the phone seeming to ring endlessly in his hand before going straight to voicemail.

“Hello person calling my phone, you’ve unfortunately reached the phone of (Y/n). Someone must’ve pranked you or something, because this is obviously the wrong number. But, if you meant to call this number, I’m clearly busy with something important so if you need me, leave a messa-”

Roman hung up quickly, throwing the device next to him and sighing, flopping onto the sheets and staring at the ceiling defeatedly. The concentrated throbbing of the hard-on in his gym shorts made him angry. You were testing him, teasing him, and he was buying into it big time. The phone buzzed next to him suddenly, making him grab at it and lean his head up.

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

gotta go, Daddy. i’m gonna go take a nap. byeeee 😚💗

[You’re really gonna do this to me?]

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

yep ^^. Talk to you soon 😘

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For almost a full week now, he’s had to deal with the torture you put him through, showing up to press talks and photoshoots and working out non-stop with a constant hard-on from the things you’ve been sending him. For a full week, the sexts became an almost daily thing as you recounted all of the things you were doing to yourself behind his back: touching yourself constantly in the bed you shared, grinding against his pillows and taking selfies with only his shirts on, sending him pictures of you in your newest dresses.

The “home movies” you sent him were equally as troubling, showing him exactly how well off you were without him there to take care of you and please you by teasing him with the various vibrators and dildos that you had in your chest.

You even had the nerve to call him during a meeting with Stephanie and tell him that you were wearing the vibrating panties he bought you last year for your birthday while you were out with friends, causing him to shoot up in his chair and try to hide his erection.

And for a full week, he’s been pent up with sexual energy, counting down the days and waiting for when he can finally come home to you and punish you for what you’ve been doing to him.

But, they’ve also been dragging on for what seemed like an eternity. So when he pulled up to the arena that Friday night, Roman was more than a little pissed off. You tagged him in a selfie you took on Instagram of you in a fitted black and turquoise lace bodysuit with a black lace collar, posting that you “had a surprise waiting for a special when they finally gets back to you”.

He felt a hot streak of possessiveness run clean through his system when he shut off his phone, and his fingers twitched with the need to let everyone know that you were his as he read through the comments. But he persisted, gripping the steering wheel of his rental tightly before getting out with a plan in mind. Grabbing his bag from the trunk, he pushed the doors open and walked inside with a grimace on his face as he tried to maneuver around the various stage crew and other wrestlers that littered the hallways.

Roman was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t seem to acknowledge bumping into one Mustafa Ali and walking straight through the man. He fell back with a yell, rubbing his shoulder as the Samoan continued on his way with his suitcase rolling behind him.

Rising to his feet, Mustafa brushed himself off before chasing after the other man, cupping his hands over his mouth to yell over the countless voices around him. “Hey, Roman! Hold up, man!”

Oh fuck, he groaned internally as Ali pulled up beside him, a smile on his face as he tried to match Roman’s pace. “So, how you been, buddy? It’s been a minute since we last talked, huh?”

Roman grunted, brows furrowed as he ignored him. His phone buzzed in his pocket again - most likely another message from you - and his mind immediately went back to you, thinking about how delicious you looked in that bodysuit.

She’s gonna fuckin’ get it when I get to the locker room, he thought, his hold on the bag’s handle tightening as Mustafa continued to try and speak with him.

“Ok, not much of a talker today. That’s fine. I just wanted to discuss our strategy for our match tonight. You know, for our tag match against Ziggler and Corbin? I was thinking that maybe you come out first and give ‘em the verbal one-two hit before I come out since they don’t know I’m your partner yet, but we could change that if-”

“It’s fine the way it is,” Roman replied, moving some stray hairs from his face before making a left towards the locker room and finding the one with his name on it. Before opening the door, he turned around to see the smaller man looking back at him holding his thumbs up and smiling.

He entered the locker room and shut the door, his mood somewhat lightening as he rolled his bag into the corner. Shoving his hand into his jeans pocket, he pulled out his phone and opened the newest message from you.

Y/n (Daddy's Babygirl)

(photo attached)

bought another one for you, Ro 💜💜

Roman walked over to the bench and sat down, taking his hair out of the messy bun he put it in earlier with his free hand and sighing as he felt the crotch of his jeans grow tight. There you were, spread out on the couch on your back wearing a lavender keyhole lace teddy with one of your legs bent towards the camera. You were smiling back into it and biting your lip, which made him groan and tug his hair a little as he ran his hand through it.

[You’re really milking this teasing thing, aren’t you?]

Y/n (Daddy’s Babygirl)

Why yes I am. This is why you don’t lie to me, Daddy

[Oh, you’re gonna fucking get it later, (Y/n)]

Y/n (Daddy’s Babygirl)

Can’t wait for it ^3^

He smirked deviously when he read that, loving how coy and innocent you sounded but knowing how wet you became just from him sending that. He did secretly love this game you were playing with him, riling him up with texts and pictures and videos, but as your Daddy he had to put you in your place. You had to know who was really in charge.

Standing and shoving his phone back into his pocket, he walked back to the door to unlocked it, only to hear the sound of someone suddenly knocking on the other side. He opened it to find a stagehand standing in front of him with a clipboard.

“Um, excuse me, Mr. Reigns?” she started, tapping her fingers nervously on the board, “I know this is kinda sudden and we only have, like, an hour and a half until the show starts, but the big man and some of the other guys upstairs switched around some of the matches on the card for tonight’s show.”

“And? What does that have to do with me?”

“Your tag match was one of the ones moved and, well….it was moved to the beginning of the night. Like, right after Baron’s segment. So, you’ve got to start getting geared up since some of the people in the film crew wanna start shooting some of your pre-show promos in a bit.”

She then turned on her heel and scampered away, reaching in her back pocket for a pen and clicking it to scribble something down.

He sighed, closing the door as he looked up at the clock on the wall and noticed that he only had a few minutes before someone else came knocking. Roman walked over to his suitcase and turned it over on its side to open it as he sighed.

Guess I’ll deal with you later, babygirl.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The crowd was roaring in his ears and he was loving all that energy, soaking it up like a sponge as he knew you were tuning in to watch him fight. He loved knowing that you could see the Big Dog in his natural habitat, watching him kick the crap out of anyone he was put in front of and feeling the apex of your thighs tingle from how turned on you were becoming.

Adrenaline pulsed through his veins throughout the entirety of the match, from when he slapped the taste out of Corbin’s mouth before Mustafa made his presence known to when he finally pinned Ziggler after hitting him with a third Spear during the nearly 15 minute long tag match.

Seeing “King” Corbin pull his new lackey from the ring and scamper to the back while holding him by his arms brought a quick smile to his face as he yelled “You can’t handle all this!” and the ref raised their arms in victory.

“I’ll see you around, okay? You were awesome out there!”

“You too, Ali,” Roman said smiling, panting slightly as the duo made their way through the curtain. Promising to check in on him some time later on, the two pounded fists and shared a brief hug before Ali began limping to the back with one of the medical personnel in tow, leaving Roman by himself.

“Now,” he told himself, smile dropping and eyes narrowing as he tore his way through the halls to get to his locker room, “time to take care of business.”

He immediately locked the door when he got inside, ripping his tactical vest off and throwing it into one of the open lockers before going over to his bag and unplugging his phone from the wall next to it.

His chest was shiny with sweat underneath the fluorescents, so he grabbed a towel that one of the stagehands left on the bench inside to wipe himself down. Drying off his hair with one hand, he used the other to unlock his phone and video call you, with you instantly picking up after only two rings.

“Hi, baby! You were so great out there during your match tonight! That was probably one of your best this ye-”

Your voice died down when you saw the look he was giving you: eyes holding yours in a steely gaze, neck vein starting to pop out a bit and a clear glint of mischief running across his entire face, but he disguised it all with a smirk. It sent shivers down your spine to know that secretly, you were the one to do this to him, to get him like this.

“How’s Daddy’s favorite little tease doing?”

“A tease? Me?” you feigned shock, mouth dropping open as you placed your hand on your chest. “Why would I ever have the gall to tease you in any way? I’m a good girl, remember?”

Roman’s face deadpanned and you had to stifle a giggle from bursting. “You know exactly what you’re doing to me, (Y/n). You’re not slick, and your Daddy isn’t a dumbass.”

His eyes flowed down to your chest, and how you were starting to angle the phone to show him more of what you were wearing. He chuckled at your latest attempt to get him riled up but unluckily for you, he was filled to the brim with pent-up energy and was all too ready to take it out on you.

You pursed your lips and blew a kiss to him as you crossed your legs on the bed. What seemed like miles of red mesh ran up your legs to your upper thighs and was held up by a frilly garter belt, leading his eyes up your body as the other two pieces of the red lace lingerie set hid all of your goods from his heated gaze.

“You like it? I bought this little number a while back and I was gonna send you a pic of it as a congratulations gift but since you called me, I figured now was as good of a time as any! So, what do you think?”

He could feel the crotch of his ring pants grow tight as you giggled again and stuck your tongue out, dropping the towel next to him as he ran his hand over the newly formed bulge. “I think,” he started, moving towards the bench and sitting down, “that it’d look much better on the bedroom floor. Speaking of which, take it off.”

“Huh?”

“The bra. As much as I love how it frames your perfect breasts, I want it off. Now.”

Furrowing your brows in confusion, you placed your own phone on your bedside table and angled it against the lamp that stood there before reluctantly reaching around and unsnapping the lacy piece, sighing as the room’s cool air made your nipples perk up. You tossed the discarded garment in the direction of your closet, smiling faintly and awaiting further instruction.

“Now, since you wanted to tease me for over a week with those fucking texts, those videos, those tags on Instagram, now I’m gonna do the same damn thing to you. And this time, you’re gonna fucking take it.”

Oh shit was the only thought that ran through your head as you gulped and felt your fingers twitch.

“So, what I want you to do is take out that cute little toy chest you have under your bed-”

“How do you know about that?!”

“-and take out the dildo you got molded for me. You know the one I’m talkin’ about, right?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” you muttered under your breath as you stood up, wondering how in the fuck he found out about it and turning around to bend over suggestively and give your man a show. You could hear the jingling of his belt clasp and heard him suck in a breath, smirking to yourself as you pulled out the black box from underneath your bed frame.

For Roman, he loved the view that he was given, loving how the lace and the garter belt framed your ass as you reached into the box to pull out the silicone toy and show it to him. It was shaped and colored to look exactly like his own cock but before he could say anything, you climbed back onto the bed and sat cross-legged with it in your lap. He could see a slight flush dusting your cheeks and he laughed darkly.

You could see him fully now, his arm with his phone in his hand partially outstretched while his other hand held his half-hard cock as he coaxed himself to full hardness. Looking down at the dildo resting on your legs, a shudder went through your body. Although your new toy will never compare to the original, you’re gonna make damn sure that your money is well spent.

He watched as you let out a shaky breath, moving to lay down on our back at the head of the bed and picking up the dildo. You raised it to your lips and suctioned your lips around the head, getting it nice and wet for him before trailing it down your neck and circling it around your breasts and nipples until they were shiny with your spit.

With wide eyes, you looked back into the camera and asked, “What do you want me to do now, Daddy?”

“Cut the innocent crap, babygirl,” he sneered, making you moan softly. “Trail that thing down your stomach and run it over those pretty panties you bought.”

You answer him with a “Yes, Daddy” before doing as he told you, dragging the dildo down over your stomach and circling your belly button with it before running the head over your pelvis and throwing your head back with a moan.

It felt good running it over your skin like that, almost as good as if Roman was actually there with you and teasing you himself, but you’d never say that to him outright. Raising your hips to meet it, you slid the toy’s shaft in-between your legs and ran it over the thin strip of fabric that kept it away from your lower lips. You could already feel how wet you were becoming, seeing as after a few seconds of this that the dildo was faintly glistening with your juices when you held it up.

“Babygirl, don’t you fucking stop until I tell you to,” he growled over the line, making you jump out of your own little fantasy world. He was angling his phone downwards towards his hard-on, showing you how he’s already leaking cum onto his fingers as he touched himself at your expense. “Keep rubbing that dildo over that wet little pussy of mine.”

You spent the next few minutes running the toy over yourself, grinding it against your clit and moaning but taking it away when you got too close to cumming as to prolong what you had going on. The arch in your back became more prominent as time went on and as sweat began to bead on your own temple, making every moan made and every breath you took much heavier.

He finally told you to stop, seeing how he could spot your juices staining your inner thighs from where your phone stood on the bedside table. “Pull those soaked panties to the side, (Y/n), and fuck yourself with that toy for me. I want you to be fucking dripping and soak that thing so badly that I can see your cum from my end.”

You can audibly hear him stroking his cock now, his pre-cum making it easier for him to pump and twist his thickness. A smile broke out onto your fae but by the look in his eyes, you knew it wouldn’t last as you pulled the red panties to the side with your free hand and rubbed the head of the toy between your lips before sliding it into you slowly.

A heady groan rang out from within you and your eyes snapped open as you began to fuck yourself with it, pressing the silicone balls against your clit to drive you to climax quicker. Moving back into your own little world, you could feel it moving against your inner walls and running against every spot that made you tick.

You threw your head forward with a moan, both of you watching how perfectly all of it fit within you in one go and how quickly you started thrusting it. You raised your hips to meet it with every pass, sighing whenever it filled you to the brim.

You were so lost within this space, your mind so cloudy with arousal, that you almost didn’t hear him call your name.

“Slower, babygirl. I don’t want you cumming yet. You’re not the only one who wants to drag this out.”

So from that point on, he directed your pace and your every movement, telling you to go slower or faster and leaving you hanging on a damn thread every time. Roman laughed heartily when you huffed and puffed out your cheeks, calling you adorable despite being a teasing brat.

“I’m only giving you what you asked for, so don’t blame me for any of this.”

He made you grind down on it every time the dildo went balls deep, making you cry out when he made you take it out right after and pass the sticky head over your clit. You were balancing on nearly nothing at that point, a heavy sheen of sweat now covering your body and seeping into the mesh tights you were wearing until he finally tossed you a bone.

“Now ride it. Ride that fucking toy like you will once I step through your goddamn door. Ride that dildo until you’re screaming my name and letting everyone on your block know who fucking owns you.”

He says this with a snarl, tightening his grip around his shaft and stroking himself quicker as you rose to your knees and moved a pillows between your thighs to suction the dildo onto it. You sunk down on it immediately, your juices making it much easier for you to slide it in and your walls hugging it closely. You grabbed another pillow and moaned loudly into it as you started bouncing, bits of your hair flying around your face and lightning running through your veins.

Your hands started to move in opposite directions; one drifted towards your breast to pluck and pull at your nipple, and the other fell to your pelvis as you began rubbing at your clit with your fingers. Looking at Roman through the phone didn’t do you any better at all, him showing you how hard and thick and ready he was for you.

His chest and forehead were covered in a thin layer of sweat as he stroked himself to a climax throwing his head back with a moan and tugging at his long hair. You could see thick streaks of white fly from the head and splatter his chest and stomach, making you moan as he lowered his head and looked straight back at you. His eyes were cloudy and lost but still dominant and utterly him which made you close your own eyes to keep yourself from reaching that peak.

But despite that, you could still feel it building up in your abdomen as the dildo hit all of your deepest spots and made you cry out to the heavens. Words could no longer spill from your mouth when you felt that twinge of arousal run directly through you and drive you closer and closer to that edge you were seeking. He was finally going to let you cum after what seemed like hours and hours of teasing…

...which is why it shocked you so much when Roman told you to end it.

“Stop.”

“....wait, what?”

“Babygirl, I said stop. Take the dildo out now.”

Even through your daze, you could hear him clearly. His eyes were nearly black, clouded fully with lust as he gripped the phone with one hand and held his softening cock with the other. Isn’t this what he said he wanted? You were so close, why should you stop now?

So you kept at it, grinding the toy down harder as you moved closer to the phone so he could see. You arched your back and pretended not to hear him, lost in your own little world of pleasure and dipping your hand back to your hard bud to rub at it furiously.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna-”

“(Y/n), I said to fucking stop.”

And stop you did, ceasing all movements and quickly taking your hand away from your clit. The tone he used surprised you as he never really used his dom voice outside of the bedroom, so you knew he was fucking serious.

You moved to grab the phone from its place on the bedside table and whined as you slowly slid off the toy, the crotch of the lace panties a deep marroon as your walls clenched around nothing. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you put the dildo next to you and were sure to get it in frame, all shiny and glistening with your juices.

“Now what, Daddy?”

“Pick it back up and clean it off, baby.”

You did so without hesitation, moaning obscenely as you made a show of picking the toy up and running your tongue along its sides. He let out a low moan as he watched you watch him while you licked your juices off of it, swirling your tongue around the fake head like you would’ve if he was laying right there with you.

He hummed, the deep noise sending shivers down your spine as you placed it next to you and held the phone up before resting your head on the pillows behind you.

“All done,” you said coyly, biting your lower lip again as he ran a hand through his hair on the other side of the screen. Always did love when he did that.

Roman told you to put the toy back in the drawer where you found it and to change - both of which you did, dropping the dildo back into your toy chest and swapping out the soaked red panties for a tank top and silk shorts.

That’s future me’s problem, you thought when you noticed the wet spot staining your sheets, wearily moving around it before slipping under your blanket.

“I miss you, Ro. When are you getting back? Like, actually?” you asked, pouting your lips.

“I’ll be home in a week, babygirl,” he told you, out of breath and nearly falling back into the open lockers behind him. “You better not touch yourself until I get back.”

Your eyes went wide and you scrambled to sit up. “Huh? Why not?”

He ignored your question, moving over to his left to grab the towel that laid on the bench. Wiping off his chest again, he said assertively, “Your Daddy’s giving you a command, (Y/n). Follow it, or else I’m gonna put the belt on you for as long as I want.”

You gulped audibly, holding your tongue as your eyes grew wide. After a few seconds, you let out a soft “Ok” and he nodded in approval.

“That’s my girl. Now, be a good girl for me, and I’ll see you when I get home.”

He didn’t even wait for your reply, hanging up the call and shutting off his phone. Roman threw it back into his bag and sighed as his deep brown eyes wandered to the ceiling and he slumped back against the wall next to it.

She’s gonna end up killing me someday, he figured, wiping his hand down his face, but what a hell of a way to go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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yikeswtfmate · 5 years

Note

So quick question, have any of R's friends from work tried to hook her up with some guy and bug her enough to where she goes in a date with them and how did Bonky feel/react to it? And vice versa if Bonk went on a date?

First thought: ooooh R’s not gonna like that

Ok so I think we all know R does not like to be told what to do (Bonk is the only one who knows how to convince her to do anything without her flipping out)

So she starts getting so irritated when idk let’s call them Agnes and Blanche cause I can’t be assed with names rn tell her about this guy for the fourth time this week (and it’s only Wednesday wtf)

Don’t get me wrong, the guy sounds like a dream, but she’s seen photos of him – his hair is too short, he doesn’t have a beard, and his eyes are the wrong colour (although she doesn’t know which is the right colour, she says HA HA HA) and there’s something off about him

But fuck it, she agrees bc why the fuck not, she hasn’t had any in some time and she’s so goddamn tired of listening to them go on and on and on about this whatshisface guy

So when Friday evening rolls around and R gets out of her bedroom – tight dress, bright lipstick, curls bouncing off her shoulders – Bonk nearly jumps up from his slumped over state where he was watching tv

So confused, but he can’t physically take his eyes off of her, while she’s transferring stuff from her day bag into that tiny clutch

“I didn’t know you were going out with the girls tonight?”

“I’m not. I have a date.”

He doesn’t say anything, just nods and gets back to the tv, but he can’t concentrate anymore

His teeth start hurting at one point from clenching his jaw so much, and there’s a tension in his back he hasn’t felt in a long time

He really doesn’t like this, but who is he to say anything?

Maybe he’s so annoyed bc he feels there will never be a guy good enough for her, she will forever be too kind, too smart, too funny, too beautiful for anyone; no matter who she will end up with, that guy’s going to be a loser – he’s seen enough of the guys she’s brought home to be certain of that

It’s definitely not bc he’s jealous

So when she leaves with a kiss to his forehead, making him promise her he’ll be there when she comes back, he just grunts and reminds her that

“Whatever you need, just send me a text and I’ll be there in 5 to get you, ok? I love you. Take care. If he does anything you don’t like I’ll break his neck.”

“I know you will, babe.”

He would’ve wanted to go home or better yet, go to the gym – punch some bag bc he really can’t get the image of some guy putting his hands all over R, caressing her face, kissing her, making her moan and whisper his name (“James”) – fuck, ok he might need a cold shower as well (I have a whole ass HC about Bonk & R’s dirty train of thoughts but I’m not gonna go into that here)

But he doesn’t go anywhere, bc he promised and if she knows he’s here, there’s no chance she’ll spend the night with that guy

So when she comes back, 2 hrs later, rolling her eyes and puffing a strand of hair out of her face, he can’t help but grin

He’s won this round

“Oh my God, this dude was such a snorefest. Please remind me to never go on dates again, if it’s not with you. God, that was the worst!” she grumbles as she makes her way into the bathroom to change into her pjs

“Sorry for making you wait, baby. What are we watching?”

And they end the night cuddling on the sofa, while watching The Office yet again

ALTERNATIVELY

When Bonk sends her a message that he’ll be late to Nat’s birthday party bc he’s going on a date

Oh boy, oh boy oh boy oh boy

She hates it, she’s snappy, she’s huffy, she’s irritated, she only communicates in grunts and grumbles

And tbf Nat has got enough of her and just pours her one glass of wine after the other, just to make her shut up

Puts Wanda in charge of R and hopes for the best

And the best obviously ends in a shouted rendition of I Will Survive as a duet bc of course R’s got Wanda just as drunk

Bonky steps in the apartment right when R hops on the sofa during the first chorus, and guess who’s a fucking dumbass and nearly falls off

Thank God for Bonk bc he catches her right at the last second and she’s about to hug and kiss her saviour until she processes that it’s him

“You! Traitor! Leaving me here! Alone! All by myself! Left me to suffer!”

Hamlet’s got nothing on her

But Bonk just manoeuvres her until she’s snug under his chin, although she keeps trying to punch him but he just pecks her forehead while chuckling

“I know you missed me, baby. Stop. I said stop, babe. Stop trying to hit me, you know you’re only going to hurt yourself.”

She eventually huffs and hugs him back, rubbing her cheek into his Henley

“I hate you.” She mumbles and he just rocks her from side to side like a rag doll

“No, you don’t. You’re just needy. I’m here now, it’s ok.”

And she ends up sitting in his lap for the rest of the party bc he’ll be damned if he’ll ever let her out of his arms again

3 pages worth of HC, who am i

IAFAG Masterlist

#iafag talk #ellie answers #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes headcanon

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uhhhhyandere · 5 years

Note

hey! hope it's not too weird to ask this on a yandere blog, but what nice or considerate things (if there are any lmfao) would Light from Orphic do for his s/o? it can be in a headcanon format, but I don't mind either way!!

headcanons??? i have never done them... but i want to so bad bc they always look so much fun to do and i love having fun. also, im sorry this was lost and you’ve had to wait three centuries i really am a terrible person who doesn’t know how to run a blog yet

so after writing my last glorious peace lets have some nice Light Yagami. just nice. considerate??? we’ll see. these turned out more light yagami in general.

anything nice light yagami does is for a greater purpose. nothing is genuine. nothing. he’s 0/10. (love him tho)

♢ So, Light obvi knows that if yall are together he can’t be manipulative, asshole, and bitch all the time, (he needs to hold things over your head and keep his charm so you still at least kinda like him)

♢ So, in this Orphic universe post-canon, he’s all about showmanship. His next step in his plan is building his own name so he can “come out” as Kira, so he kinda becomes like famous like L but everyone knows who he is kinda like Sherlock Holmes a bit

♢Getting that out of the way, Light is going to take you to those expensive ass restaurants and parties where high names are, where he knows he’s going to be seen. You just get to come along (you have to look nice in his eyes. u dont look good enough? get changed) yeah... not very nice

♢At parties as such, he’s all about appearances as a loving, doting boyfriend/fiance to his s/o. his arm is around your waist, he is joking with you, dancing with you, flirting with you like a high schooler, fixing your hair, giving you small kisses, everything

♢because he has to (but they’re nice at the moment)

♢in those restaurants he is pulling out your chair, holding your hand from across the table, smiling at your attempted jokes

♢another not so fancy, elegant, showboat date is shopping!? grocery shopping, clothes shopping, etc. ignore the fact it’s about how he can control what you wear, eat, etc. ,

♢clothes shopping you get to try on outfits while he waits in the waiting area, having you turn and help you zip up a suit or dress, experiment with new clothes, and judgment from the store clerk who wants him away from the changing areas (if you identify as a female in the female locker room, that is)

♢he buys the clothes too

♢grocery shopping is fun too. you get to ask for snacks and he says no. you also get to ask to go out for lunch after and he also says no. it’s quality time???

♢also buys the groceries

♢sometimes he will sneak a cake-like treat in there for you.

♢another outside date I think he’d do is exercise dates. so playing tennis, going for walks/runs, going to the gym. he has to take care of himself to keep up his image, and, if you’re with him, your image as well.

♢but he’s actually nice in these areas bc if you’re not so used to working out often he’s supportive and vocalizes his pride you’re there with him (is it just for show? the world may never know...)

♢late night impromptu dates? you have to drag his ass but he will not have you walking to a grocery store at 3am for ice cream by yourself. With dark circles, he will accompany you and stand half-asleep next to you in the aisle as you decide between peanut butter blast, triple chocolate, or peanut butter triple chocolate with fudge. he’s protective after all. you did run off for four years.

♢more low-key inside the house stuff does happen

♢cooking for you. he always be firing up the stove and trying new recipes. a big headcanon i have for him is being a super good cook given how self-sufficient he is. loves when you tell him it’s good.

♢when he’s uhh “writing” he’ll allow you to rest your head in his lap if he’s doing in on the bed or couch bc your home is hella private. Might use your head as a table though if his arms getting tired.

♢when he’s done he’ll set it aside and run his fingers through your hair while he watches the late news. othertimes he’ll toss your head aside and walk away. it’s always a surprise with him.

♢also reads to you. mostly news and stories about kira from newspapers and scholarly articles. one day you’ll convince him to read you If You Give a Moose a Muffin. One day.

♢showering together! it’s going to be moreso of you washing him. another headcanon i have is he loves being bathed and washed by someone else. makes him feel powerful. especially if they’re your hands. you though? maybe.

♢if it’s a bath, then sure you can slide in between those long legs and lie up against his back. not for long tho. when he gets stiff, he’s pushing you right out of there, but it’s nice while it lasts.

♢movie nights! if you want to have one he better not have work that next morning or you’re SOL. but he will because he knows a lot of times you end up falling asleep and he can go to bed as well.

♢he’s warm under the blankets.

♢if you watch a scary movie and get scared, light will hit you with that “what’s scarier than a god of death?” and all of a sudden clowns aren’t so scary anymore considering who you’re cuddling with.

♢loves when you hide into him. that power he has over you in those moments.

♢speaking of the c-word

♢yes! honestly, okay. on the outside he’s like “bitch you’re disgusting don’t touch me” but on the inside, he loves having control over you. To have you cuddled up to him like he’s protecting you? he’s wanted you like this for so long. he’s going to enjoy it.

♢it’s moreso you wrapping your arms around him and him taking you all in. whether you be on the side, or lying on his chest and listening to his heartbeat.

♢he’s the knife big spoon. always. if you were the big spoon it’s an insult to his pride. he doesn’t need to be coddled. he wants to feel your form against him. focusing on how it feels and nothing else. nothing else but him.

♢in the end, this is light yagami. whether he is yandere or not, he is going to manipulate, put his appearance and yours first, have his facade game strong in public, and when not in public, he does things to remind himself and you that you are his to control, and he is yours to love and devote yourself to. He’ll do what he has to to make sure you know that, no matter if he hates it or not.

#headcanons? yes #light yagami headcanons #yandere light yagami headcanons #light yagami x reader #death note #yandere light yagami x reader #yandere death note #yandere x reader #yandere light yagami

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mymanskabu · 5 years

Text

Kabu One-Shot:

A Kiss in Ten Seconds

Anonie requested: ❝Idk if I can req anything for the holidays or if it's too late but, just in case. Can you do something for Kabu finding out his champion!s/o will be too busy on New Years Eve and New Years Day bc of all the events that are going on? Then how would he react, when people are literally doing the 10 second count down right before midnight and he sees his s/o burst into the room/wherever he is, panting, out of breath, looking for him just so they could be there to kiss him when the countdown's over?❞

× IM UPLOADING THIS AT 11:59PM Or at least that's the time it is for me as I post this! I know its 2020 already for many of you! I wish you guys a good New Years!

× sorry some of y'alls requests will have taken a year to get done. Please don't unfollow, I am a hard-working person with one brain cell.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

No one told you just how tedious and time consuming being a Champion would be. No wonder the former one appears much less stressed, the poor guy barely had time for his family on this schedule. You were constantly on the move and everyone wanted to talk to you. Leon came around to check on you after you had sent him a text saying, "Help, why are they coming for my life, I have a shit to do."

"Your schedule is very full," He said, looking at you apologetically. "There should be a warning before people try to become Champion, this is a workload that would surely scare off a lot of trainers."

"I don't even have time for my hobbies!" You flip the page to your schedule and half of next month was already full. "I'm lucky enough to manage a call to my mom and one of the only times I see Kabu is when I am going home in the middle of the night." You were surprised the man hasn't decided to leave you. You would completely understand if he couldn't handle being with someone so busy.

"I was undefeated for a very long time," Leon starts explaining. "Your schedule is much fuller than mine was because you beat someone that no one else could for many years. Even those older than me and with perhaps more experience couldn't defeat me."

"You're telling me your schedule wasn't this hectic?" You stared down at the calendar, realizing that talking to Leon was going to get cut short anytime soon.

"It was hectic definitely. Not like this." Leon gave you a comforting pat on your shoulder. "The workload will lessen later on, not sure by how much but you can only repeat a story for so long before people get bored. Then you have to worry about people trying to force a story to happen. At least you have off time when the Gym Challenge is not at large."

"I'm going to lose to the next challenger on purpose," You said. It got a chuckle out of Leon who raised a brow at you, questioning the honesty of your statement. "Or not." You sighed. "Too many benefits outweighing the negatives right now. Well, I'm happy you're able to have more time for other projects Leon!"

"Thank you... Champion."

You were getting many challengers nowadays. People who couldn't defeat Leon come back thinking they can defeat you, plenty of Challengers coming for your title, and new ones in the making. You had a lot of paperwork as well, surprisingly enough. A lot of interviews, so many damn interviews, and your privacy? Almost completely gone. You were grateful for having been with Kabu since before you even challenged the Gyms to attempt being Champion.

Unfortunately your relationship with him was outed rather quickly because of that though. Even if it was a secret, the ring on a specific finger would have also given you away. That was quite recent, it was his surprise for when you became Champion so now wedding planning is somewhere quite far in the schedule. Your management didn't consider it as important as you did, it's something you had to force into your schedule. They only care about managing your public image, personal problems don't rank high on their list of priorities when they're organizing your calendar.

Champions also have to be very involved with Galar and it's people. You had to understand the public opinion, the government opinion, and manage almost any incoming threat. That was terrifying, they sent you to anything just because you happen to be strongest around right now. You had to suck it up and protect the people, show them that their Champion can do probably anything.

You read over your schedule with Leon for a bit longer until you saw something in it that was irritating. "Leon. Why in the world do I have interviews for both New Years Eve and New Years. They can't take those days! I wanted to... I need to be..." You were fuming. You told them not to fill the holidays and they didn't for the past ones, but for some reason they filled those two dates.

"There isn't much you can do about that," He says. "You can try but I remember trying and they... if its urgent, its unlikely." Leon continued with saying that they probably gave you the prior holidays so that you didn't have room to completely complain about your management.

Your phone started ringing. You hesitated to pick up the phone knowing that it'll be someone to take you away for another interview, photoshoot, or fan meet. You didn't hate the people that wanted to meet you, your anger was mostly directed towards the people that were stuffing so much into your schedule. Leon was right though, they can't keep this up forever and hopefully later on it will get more tolerable.

"Are you alright?" His familiar voice caused your shoulders to ease up. You were crossing your arms on the table with your head laid on them. You had came home tired of socializing and still having to do some paperwork having to do with former Chairman Rose.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm tired though, mentally tired to tell you the truth." You stretched your arms upwards then felt two arms wrap around your shoulders when you put them down. "Kabu, I can't be with you during New Years Eve or New Years. It says its urgent but I very much doubt these Talk Shows need me that badly."

You didn't hear anything from behind you for a long moment. He was most likely thinking, you were too, and depending on what he says, you might just consider the idea of letting him go. It hurt you to ponder upon such a thing, but there's other people out there that could give Kabu much more of their time.

"I understand," He finally said, "I'll open up the Stadium for those that need a warm place to be on those days and I will be thinking of you when the countdown starts."

"You don't have to be like that, you know? You don't have to understand, you can be mad at me, you can be frustrated at me, I won't... I won't blame you!" You got up from where you were sitting to face him. He held your hands and promptly shook his head in response.

"I'm not sure you knew this, love but you do not plan your schedule." He kisses your knuckles to comfort you. "If I am to be frustrated at anyone it will be whoever made you busy on those two days. Was there anything you could do about it?"

"I tried, but they just repeatedly tell me that it's an urgent thing I need to be at," You reply, a frustrated sigh escaping past your lips.

"You do what you have to, and think of me as I will think of you during the countdown." With a hand gently on the back of your neck he guides your mouth to his in a much needed relaxing kiss that made your body melt.

"Of course, you're right... you're right," You mumbled. Your eyes remained closed for a bit after the kiss before you were able to open them without feeling like they held sadness in them. "I love you, you know that?"

"I love you too."

Your stylist dressed you up nicely for the interviews, these events to celebrate a new Champion and a New Year. This is wrong, why does it feel like you were just rubbing it in everyone's face that you were now Champion? You were backstage waiting to be introduced, slouching in a nearby couch with your elbow on your thigh and your hand holding your chin. Finally you heard your name, you could see the crowd cheering on the screen, all anticipating your presence through the hall that all guests walk through.

Kabu opened the Stadium as he said he would, a lot more people came than he thought would. He had announced that it would be open to celebrate the New Year and there would be food and drinks. It wasn't going to be like that at first but you offered the funds and he couldn't say no. It was open for people and Pokemon alike and that brought his heart a pleasant feeling.

He missed you a lot though. He understood that you had things to do but he didn't realize just how attached he had grown to you for your lacking presence to impact him so much. His Stadium was playing the interview for everyone to see and the people that came; majority of them knew Kabu was engaged to the new Champion of Galar. He wondered if you were going to complete your end of the promise and think of him.

"Here's our new magnificent Champion, (Name)!" The cheers were loud, the "I love you's" came from all directions, and so did flowers. Roses, vibrant red roses that reminded you of Kabu. You sat down, a big smile on your face that only managed to be genuine knowing Kabu would see it. "How are you on this beautiful night, Champ?" The interviewer asked.

"I'm doing great, thank you! I actually have somethin' to say real quick, is that alright?" The interviewer furrowed his brows and pointed towards the camera you should speak to.

"Let's hear what (Name) needs to say folks! I wonder what it is! Sounds mysterious!"

"Perhaps it would be mysterious if paparazzi didn't exist," You responded. "I want to say I'm thinking about you, I'll see you soon!"

"Would my guess be wrong if I say that message was for your to-be husband and Fire Type Gym Leader Kabu!?" The interviewer raises your hand, the one that had the ring. "How is the wedding planning going anyway? Any progress?"

"Its somewhere in my schedule, we have ideas we hope to bring to life." The answer was simple and clearly not to the interviewers' taste. They had to remain unaffected though and continued smiling.

"We have a few fan questions we would like you to answer! First one being, would you date a fan?!"

"Absolutely not. I'm engaged, are you people not getting the memo?" You said this sarcastically, but with a tone of seriousness. It got you a laugh from the audience and you laughed along with them as truthfully as you could. "Not to be inappropriate or anything but I think— no. I know I'll be with Kabu for the rest of my life."

Kabu was almost as red as Gym outfit shirt, hearing the "Aww" from both the crowd in the Stadium and the ones where you were. In all honesty though, he would have said the exact same thing about you.

"A curious fan has asked: Do you sing in the shower?" You didn't think for long and answered it with a brief nod.

"I do sing in the shower, Kabu says it sounds good but I think he may just be losing hearing." Once again, the crowd laughed. "Who knows though, only he has ever heard me sing and no, I'm not singing!"

"You and Kabu live together as you've implied multiple times, has there been any mishaps in the kitchen by one of you?" You pondered on this question for a few seconds.

"Not yet, Kabu is a pretty good cook and surprisingly good baker!" You tried to think of an incident once again but nothing came to mind as of now.

"Have you used the 'Is your Dad a baker' pick up line on him yet?" You chuckled at the question and so did the crowd. You covered half your face as you nodded, confirming that you have used a pick up line on him. "I didn't expect that! How'd that go?"

"He still has no idea what I meant by the line and I suppose now is a good time to get it out in the open." It took you a moment or two to compose yourself. "When I said you had a nice set of buns, I was talking about your butt, Kabu!"

He was sitting in the middle of his Stadium, on the ground and when you said that, he fell back laughing much more than he usually would allow himself to in front of a crowd. He should have known that's what you meant then, all he wished to say in response was that he felt the same way. He knows you would have playfully hit him on the arm or something and thank him for the compliment.

A few more questions passed until it was getting close to the countdown. There was an ad break a few minutes before it started. You didn't want to be here, your heart was telling you to leave, take a flying taxi, find Kabu, find home, and be where you know you want to be. You slowly got up from the waiting area, ignoring the calling security, interviewer, and anyone else you just left.

Ten.

You ran, forgetting you had a flying taxi even though you thought about it moments ago. You only had one thing on your mind and that was reaching Kabu before the countdown was over. You ran, your legs wanting to stop but you wouldn't allow it, your lungs trying to take in all the cold air, and the fancy shoes on your feet making it even more difficult. You stopped and took them off, hastily picking them up then running again. No rock on the ground was stopping you from being where you wanted to be tonight.

Nine.

When the show came back on, you weren't there and he was confused. Apparently you had left abruptly, this caused him to worry and tried getting a hold of you through a text then called you.

Eight.

Kabu didn't know you ran off, leaving your items behind with only one goal in mind. His destination was within your line of sight and it made you push forward much faster, pushing your legs harder to make it before the time ran out.

Seven.

He wanted to be able to at least to see you through the screen as the countdown started. Where did you go? Why did you leave? Were you even okay? Now all he could think about was your well-being.

Six.

You were jogging past the hair salon, the many small stores on the sides, some which had people. People watching the Champion run to the elevator that would take you to Motostoke Stadium.

Five.

No one asked questions as you walked in, your legs almost wanting to give in. You continued, waving off others that wanted to help you walk towards the doors to the Stadium itself.

Four.

You stood in the tunnel for a couple of seconds, your eyes searching for Kabu. He who was watching the screen, hoping for your appearance or any news on your location.

Three.

The crowd spotted you first, the loud cheers startling Kabu as his eyes met yours when he turned his head in your direction. He never felt more relieved to see you there, why you had disappeared made much more sense to a lot people now that you were here.

Two.

With all the strength you could muster in your legs, you practically limped forward. Absolutely tired by the run and feeling like a whole idiot for not using a taxi when you could have at any point on your way here. He saw you panting, no shoes on your feet, you looked like quite the beautiful mess.

One.

No words are exchanged as you throw your arms around his neck, holding him in a tight embrace before your lips passionately meet his. He was slightly taken aback by the roughness of the kiss, you had his body right against yours, and a hand clutching the hair on the back his head. How long had it been since he has had something like this? He had forgotten how amazing this physical contact could feel and experiencing this made him feel as if it was a first kiss. Then the clock strikes twelve, your hold on him loosens, and its just you and him.

Your forehead was on his, you two were sharing breaths because of how long and sudden it was. Embarrassment hit you randomly when you realized there was a crowd, you left an interview, and Kabu was probably staring at you while you didn't dare open your eyes. Not until you could look at him and say something that didn't sound like you didn't know how to form sentences.

You could hear the crowd now, the whistling, the clapping, the stomping of their feet, any form of cheering the could make they did it.

"Another year of you and me," He said. "I am looking forward to another one." He gave you one chaste kiss for his own pleasure and you smiled.

"I look forward to another one too."

#request #happy new year #!!#kabu swsh #swsh kabu #pokemon kabu #kabu #kabu is all i need lmao #kabu pokemon #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon shield #pokemon sword #pokemon #sword and shield #swsh #pokemon swsh #drabble #oneshot

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imaginethathaikyuu · 5 years

Note

your scenarios are basically canon to me can you write a scenario for tsuki and his s/o who gets into a heated argument and he says something to the effect of maybe we should breakup? and maybe they make up instead bc happy ending :,)

thank you for the request!

fem reader

There hadn’t been a day at work as bad as the day you just got home from. You were exhausted, and all you wanted to do was come home, relax, and forget the day had even happened.

Thank goodness you were off for the weekend.

When you walked into the living room, you expected to see your boyfriend, but instead, you just found the remains of him. His gym bag was on the floor in the middle of the room, his jersey and knee pads were thrown onto the couch, and you nearly tripped on a lone volleyball that sat on the ground.

Of course he’d leave a mess. Could you expect anything else from him?

Tsukishima was usually tidy - keyword: usually. After a long practice or a hard game, he had no regard for cleanliness or organization. He just wanted to get out of his sweaty clothes and lie down as quick as he could.

But you weren’t okay with it, especially when he’d leave his shoes lying in the middle of the foyer, or when he managed to throw his sweaty, smelly knee pad onto your pillow, cursing it with his scent.

You had talked about it with him. He said he’d stop, he’d be more respectful of your shared space.

But obviously, that was a lie.

“Tsukishima!”

Maybe, in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t that big of a deal. But right now, this was the only thing that mattered. It was the only thing available for you to be frustrated at - and you’d get all your frustrations out.

“What?” you heard him call back. When he walked into the room, he was shirtless and missing his glasses.

“Can you pick up your shit?”

“Okay, mom.”

He snickered as he walked by you - and he shouldn’t have done that.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, putting a hand on your hip. “Is it the fact that you act like a complete toddler?”

He’d picked up his jersey and thrown it over his shoulder by the time you said that, and he had to stop and turn to look at you. “What?”

“Toddlers are more tidy than you are,” you replied. “I’m sure you heard me the first time.”

“Sorry, didn’t know I was dating a saint,” Tsukki said. “The fuck’s your problem?”

“You!” you said, though you were basically yelling. “How many times do I have to tell you not to leave your shit lying around the house? Am I going to have to trip over a volleyball and break an arm so you get the point?”

“Sorry your majesty, I’ll make sure the castle is kept up to your standards.”

“I am so sick of your shit -”

“Feel free to break up with me, then! Sorry I was such a shitty servant.”

With that, Tsukishima picked up his gym bag and walked out of the room. It wouldn’t take long for him to walk back in, now fully dressed, carrying the same gym bag; but he walked right by you. Didn’t even look at you.

“Where are you going?” you asked, your voice just as strong as it had been before.

“Out.” The door slammed shut, and you were left alone.

He could’ve just been going to the gym. But after he’d been gone for over three hours, the thought struck that maybe he wouldn’t be coming back.

You felt so stupid. There was no reason for you to blow up at Tsukishima. Him leaving his things around did not call for a break up. And you had no right to make him feel like that’s what you wanted.

The only thing you had to blame it on, besides yourself, was your bad day at work - but now, your bad day was your fault. It wasn’t anyone else’s.

So you decided to turn in early, and you hoped that when you woke up in the morning, Tsukishima would be lying next to you.

You were giving your social media a final once over before you shut your phone off and went to sleep when you found a post from Bokuto on Twitter.

Late night gym session with my boysss

Underneath, a photo was attached, and in it was Bokuto, Kuroo, Akaashi, and, hiding his face in his arm, Tsukishima.

Oh, yeah. It was Friday - and the four of them always go to the gym together, sometimes a bit late into the night.

You hoped Tsukki was having a good time, despite what happened between the two of you earlier.

With that thought, you were just about ready to roll over and get some sleep - until you heard the front door opening.

That meant Tsukishima was home.

Without even thinking, you jumped out of bed and went to find him.

He was in the kitchen pulling a water bottle from the fridge. His shirt was visibly soaked with sweat, and you’re surprised he hadn’t taken it off already.

“I’m sorry.”

Maybe you should’ve waited for him to turn around to speak, but you couldn’t hold it in any longer.

He ignored your words. He didn’t even look at you when he turned around or when he walked by you. But you grabbed his hand and pulled him into you, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I’m sweaty -”

“I don’t care.”

Tsukishima sighed, and wrapped an arm loosely around your shoulders.

“I’m sorry. I had a bad day and I took it out on you. I don’t care that you leave your things lying around sometimes. I’m sorry.”

“Okay. Can I go shower now?”

“Do you forgive me?”

He sighed again.

“Don’t be stupid.”

He expected you to let him go, but your arms tightened around him instead.

“I’m sorry, Kei.”

“I know. Forget about it, Y/N. It’s okay.”

You nodded. But you didn’t pull away.

“You need a shower now, too. Come on.”

He pulled your arms off of him, only to find you teary eyed and frowning. So he put his hands on either side of your face, kissed your forehead, and whispered, “it’s okay. Stop being upset. Come shower with me. I’ll make it better, okay?”

You nodded, albeit quite sadly, but it was good enough for Tsukishima to pull you into the bathroom and treat you to the pampering you desperately needed - but maybe didn’t deserve.

It didn’t matter to him, though. He’d be there to wash your hair or cuddle with you no matter what; even on the days you didn’t deserve it.

got a request? send it in. i’ll write it.

#tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu one shot #haikyuu imagines #scenario

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calif0rnia-lovers · 5 years

Text

fake it ‘till you make it

chapter 1: you were mine first.

summary: a trip down memory lane as Tre returns home to find his best friend dealing with the fallout of her divorce proceedings.

a/n: this chapter is really long. it’s essentially full of backstory. i didn’t want to post each part as its own chapter bc that would end us up with four short chapters. so...prepare for time jumps. kinda wanted to get the backstory out the way so that i can get into the good stuff. let me know what you think. i know it’s a reader fic but i just think aja naomi is so pretty that’s why you see her face :)

if there are typos bare with me. I forced myself to stop making changes and just posted it. songs are linked because i’m hella dramatic and moody when i write.

words. 8,960

2006: junior year in high school. (gif).

You say we're just friends but I swear when nobody's around You keep my hand around your neck, we connect

You're seated, alone, in the corner booth at Happy's Diner. The AP Calculus book and notes spread out across the table are the perfect repellants for teenage boys hoping to "keep you company" until your friend arrives.

Your friend who just so happens to be running extremely late. Halfway done with your second glass of soda kind of late.

Trevante comes strolling into the diner, pausing long enough to say hi to Happy before heading in your direction. Climbing over the booth, he slides in next to you.

"Sorry I'm late," he huffs as he settles in next to the window.

His arm drapes over your shoulder, as he reaches forward to drag your plate towards him. Keeping your focus on the problem you're solving, you blindly lift his left arm, turning it so that you can see the face of his watch.

"You are forty-eight minutes late." You shove his arm off your shoulder, it finding its place back to your shoulder instantly. "Why do you wear a watch if you don't know how to use it?"

"Why buy me a watch for my birthday if you know I can't use it?"

Trevante narrowly avoids the slap you send towards his hand, stealing a french fry and popping it into his mouth.

His neck rolls, a groan escaping his lips as you move the plate out of his reach.

"Come on, Y/N. I can't have any-"

"No. You can tell me where you were. What was so important you left me waiting for forty-eight minutes? I already ordered the dinner you promised me."

"You clocking me now?" His brow arches as he drags the plate across the table.

"When it affects me? Yes. Yes, I am."

Trevante lightly shrugs his shoulder before retrieving the ketchup. The fact he doesn't want to tell you causes you to lift his arm from over your shoulder.

Resting his arms against the table, he silently busies himself with cleaning your plate.

"Why can't we study at your place?

Trevante watched as your shoulders rise and fall, your brow furrowing as you reach in your backpack. You're willing to acknowledge his question isn't that strange. From the fifth grade, the two of you have always studied at your house. Your dining room table has years worth of homework sessions. When you entered high school, your study sessions had migrated to your bedroom.

Trevante could usually be found sprawled across your bed; arm tucked behind his head as he lounged on your pillows. While you were found seated on the floor, books and notes displayed neatly around you. You would kill to be back in your room right now. Both of your giggles mingling with the latest playlist Trevante has downloaded on his computer. However, ever since your last study session, that doesn't seem like a great idea.

Your mind is still trying to make sense of what exactly happened. You were slightly hopped up on coffee, the late-night study session keeping you and Trevante up well past your parents. Trevante...was wired by something else. What exactly? You're not sure. He'd arrived at your place, hours before, in a shitty mood but refused to tell you why. You'd initially thought it was because you'd rejected his invitation to attend William Prescott's party because you needed to study. Trevante had gone to the party before meeting you. Whatever happened at the party had stopped him from being a semi-decent study partner.

You were used to the textbook attempts of avoiding his work. The television, conversations about something he'd heard in the locker room, etc. What you weren't used to was his fingers toying with your hair, or brushing against your thighs. His lips brushing against your shoulder.

You'd nearly caused him to break his neck on the stairs with how fast you got him out of your house that night.

You grip your eyes closed for a brief moment, an all familiar heat spreading across your skin as he studies your face.

"It's just, my mom...she said something about us having an open-door policy and raging hormones, and it just...weirded me out?"

"Raging hormones," he scoffs, his attention focusing on the problem you're finishing up. "Your mom thinks we're having sex? We used to take baths together."

Erasing your mistake, you try again. You don't respond until you've finished the problem. Sliding the nearly completed homework assignment in Trevante's direction, you pick up your soda.

"I know, that's what I told her. She seems to think guys became sex-crazed when they turn sixteen."

"It's earlier than that," Trevante teases as he looks over the work.

It takes him a moment to realize the assignment is his not yours. He'd given you the completed homework during third period.

"Can you look this over?" He'd asked, hastily placing a kiss against your cheek before starting down the hall after William. "I'll make it up to you tonight. Dinner at Happy's at seven!"

You'd marked up most of the assignment in red while waiting for his arrival. The fact he'd attempted to do the homework without your help leading to you redoing it for him to soften the blow.

Releasing a sigh of relief, Trevante grins in your direction.

"You're so fucking smart, Y/N. It took me all last night to finish that."

You wince as his grip tugs against your shoulder, pulling your closer. His lips briefly press against your cheek. Your giggles fill the air as a second kiss follows.

"Stop," you giggle, lightly pushing against his cheek you watch him place a kiss against your palm before returning your focus on the math problem to his homework. "Don't think compliments will get me to finish your homework for you. You're finishing the rest. Right now. I'm only helping you make the corrections from now on. I only fixed it early because I can't be here until ten again."

Trevante's eyes roll as he accepts the pencil you offer him. "I've got plays to remember. I don't have time to ace AP Calc."

"And I have an entire European History essay to finish when I get home, so focus."

You spend the next thirty minutes helping Trevante finish working through his assignment. By the time you're finished explaining his mishap in the last problem, he's got a headache, and you're on your second plate of fries.

"You got that?"

"Yeah."

"Tre?" You wince at the sigh escaping his lips. "You don't sound too convincing. Do you need me to explain it again?"

You look up to find him watching you. His brow furrowed.

"What do you think of Prescott?" Trevante asks.

Your brow furrows as you concentrate on finishing the remainder of your shake.

"Prescott? As in William Prescott? The quarterback?"

"Yeah."

You attempt to read his expression, but whatever is on Trevante's mind, he isn't giving much away.

"He's...nice? I don't know, Tre," You laugh. "I don't know him. I mean, he's spoken to me maybe...three times. Each of those times is because I'm with you."

William Prescott was hard to ignore. Even if you weren't acquainted with him, it was impossible not to know who William was. His father was mayor, his mother, a member of the school board. Not to mention William was captain and quarterback of your school's football team. You share two classes with William. The fact you tend to sit in the front, and him in the back, making it difficult for him to talk to you. You can't even remember the last time he looked in your direction, let alone acknowledged you.

"I'm pretty sure he's gonna try and ask you out."

Your eyes roll as you uncap the highlighter in your hand.

"Right." You snort.

Concentrating on highlighting the formula before you, you glance up when you realize nothing else has been said.

"He asked me if you were seeing anyone," Trevante responds, his expression unreadable.

"And? What'd you tell him?" You ask the urgency in your voice, causing Trevante's eyes to roll.

He shrugs.

"I said not that I know of."

You let his words sink in, your brow furrowing. You're not sure what to say to that. If there was anyone who knew about what was going in your life, it was him.

"Okay..."

"I mean...I told him you weren't really looking for him. I figured he wasn't really your type. He's the quarterback, and you're..."

You wait for him to finish, but he doesn't.

"I guess you're the only exception to my newfound hatred for jocks?"

Lifting his arm, Trevante didn't bother responding as you gathered up your belongings before heading to the door.

two weeks later.

You keep your hands out before you. With your palms an inch away from the vent, you struggle to keep your entire body from trembling. Your dress is clinging to your wet body, the fabric's weight adding to the uncomfortable sensation on your skin. The air pumping through the ten-year-old jeep is a struggle on a good day. Paired with pouring rain on a chilly October night, it seemed the old vehicle wasn't going to be up to the task.

The rustling alongside you isn't enough for you to open your eyes, or move away from the slowly heating vents.

Trevante continues rustling through his gym bag. He is in search of an extra set of clothes. The spur of the moment thunderstorm that had erupted at the end of the game left everyone unprepared. You were in the stands, only really attending to cheer on your best friend, so you hadn't brought an extra pair of clothes. With the downpour, exiting the stands was a disaster. You didn't want to twist your ankle running down the slick foundation. By the time you made it through the gates of the field, you had to trek up the hill to the parking lot. You had struggled against the crowd to reach Trevante's jeep. By the time he'd met you in the parking lot, you were soaked to the bone.

After retrieving his shirt, Trevante grabs his letterman jacket for good measure.

"All right," he huffs as he tosses his duffle into the back. "This is all I've got."

Tugging the wet dress over your head, you toss it into the backseat before gladly accepting the longsleeved shirt.

The initial stripping off your clothes left Trevante frozen. In his haste, he hadn't considered the idea you might have to undress to get warm. His eyes had widened, his gaze instinctively drifting down your chest to the light pink bra you wore. He pauses to admire how the light fabric contrasts against your skin. You are too busy struggling to tug the shirt over your head to notice. Clearing his throat, Trevante shifts in his seat before focusing on adjusting the radio.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into coming," you mumble as you slip your arms through the sleeves of his shirt.

"You can use my jacket." Stealing a second glance in your direction, Trevante felt his shoulders relax once it became apparent you were decently covered. "It wasn't like you were doing anything anyway."

Shoving your arms through the sleeves of the jacket, you can't deny him a smile as a warmth passes over your body. The fabric is thick, capturing his scent. It feels as though its nearly twice your size.

"I was because, believe it or not; my world does not revolve around you, Rhodes."

"Right," he scoffs. "It's just boring when I'm not around."

Trevante glances apprehensively in your direction.

"So…" You wait for his sentence to be completed. When he doesn't speak, you glance across the car to find his thumb tapping against the steering wheel. "Will Prescott?"

A heat flushes over your skin at the mention of his name.

A light shrug rolls off your shoulder, your gaze diverting. "What about Will?"

"You're going out with him next week."

"Sounds like you already know the answer to that," you mumble.

The laugh that fills the car brings the heat to your face.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Trevante shakes his head before shifting the car into reverse.

You reach forward pushing it back into park.

"No, hold up. What?"

He looks at you for a moment before releasing a deep breath.

"It's just...he's kind of a player."

"William Prescott, a player?" Now it's your turn to scoff. "He's the captain of the football team-"

"That should tell you-"

"Oh, so does that extend to you?"

Trevante smiles, motioning for you to finish your sentence.

"Besides, you didn't even let me finish. Will's the second smartest kid in our class, and I know that because I'm the smartest. He's the poster child of our town. You can't be a poster child, slutting it up without everyone knowing. I haven't seen him date anyone since freshman year."

"Yeah you're right...must just be locker room talk." Resting his head back against his seat, Trevante runs his hand over his face. "What'd you wanna ask me?"

Suddenly your motives for attending the game seemed stupid. You'd texted Tre before the game, asking if he could give you a ride home.

"I need a favor." Your text had read, followed by "A big one. However, you have to promise not to tell anyone. Ever."

"Depends on how many laws we break," he'd responded.

"It's…" Your voice tapers off as you concentrate on the working windshield wipers. "A terrible idea."

"A bad as you picking William Prescott over me?"

When his teasing isn't enough to make you smile, Trevante sits up.

"I'm not a cheerleader, Tre. I don't have guys lining up after me like girls do you. I don't want my first kiss to be with a guy I barely know."

"Look, Y/N, I was fucking around about Will. He's not that bad. Pretentious, but not a complete dick…" Trevante's eyes widen. "You want me to…"

Suddenly the idea sounds stupid, and you're backpedaling.

"It's just I mean, he's the quarterback. Also, I know guys talk and-can't you tell when someone's like inexperienced with that kind of stuff? I don't want that being the only thing he thinks about when he's kissing me-and then he goes back and tells everyone during "locker room talk." Next thing I know, the school newspaper will be publishing that I'm a virgin-"

"Whoa-chill," he chuckles, the smile on his face stopping you in your tracks. "Okay?"

You nod. Your gaze drops to your hands. You're almost sure the heat burning your cheeks is visible to him.

You reluctantly look at Trevante as his touch finds your chin.

His lips press against yours, pulling your eyes closed. It takes a moment for your body to respond. By the time your brain processes what is happening, his lips are gone. His eyes are on you.

"Relax, y/n." He chuckles, his tongue passing over his lips at the sight of the range of emotions flickering across your face. He gently brushes his thumb along the curve of your jaw. "I'm not looking to break your heart. It's just a kiss."

"Just a kiss. Right."

You nod, but the action only causes Trevante to laugh for a second time. He knows the wheels are churning in your head. That, just like every aspect in life, you are beginning to overthink.

"Relax."

"Easy for you to say, Cassanova. Besides I am-"

A squeal comes out mangled with a gasp as his hands find waist and he's pulling against you. He's lifting you into the passenger seat and resting you against his lap. Your hands find his shoulders, the urge to push some space between you the first thought that crosses your mind.

There isn't much space you can put between the two of you with the steering wheel behind you.

You blink. Meeting Trevante's gaze, you feel the pulse of your heart skyrocketed as his hands move from your waist to your lower back.

Sensing your tension, Trevante smiles softly.

"I'll let you take the lead. I know you're big on learning on your own."

Suddenly you're aware of your surroundings.

The smell of rain against your skin. The soap from his rushed shower. The tap of the rain against the window, and roof of the car. The feel of his jeans against your thighs. The sensation that rushes across your skin with each shift of his jeans against your skin when you move. The muscles of his shoulders beneath the fabric of his t-shirt. The slight spike of his heartbeat as your touch drifts to his chest. The rise and fall of his chest as he takes a deep breath as he waits for you to kiss him.

Relax, Y/N. It's just a kiss.

When you blink, and your eyes lift to meet his, you find Trevante's gaze on yours. A tiny smile is on his lips, his head resting against the headrest. The sense of calm that seems to cover you from head to toe stems from the steadiness of his heart against your palm. His thumbs gently massage the outside of your thighs.

The sight of his growing smile causes one to spread across your lips in response. With a slight shake of your head, you place your hands along either side of his neck and lean in to kiss him.

His grip tightens around your waist, shifting your body forward so that you straddle him. Trevante's fingers are in your hair, keeping your lips pressed against his. The desire to feel as much of you as he can eliminate any remaining space between the two of you. Neither of you can keep track of who does what first. Who's tongue brushes against who's lips first, who's hands start to wander first, who's giggle melts into a groan as your hips shift instinctively against his.

Time seems to fall away as quickly as the rain.

His lips linger along the curve of your neck. The pain that had pulled a gasp of irritation from you, a few seconds prior, has been replaced by a much more addictive sensation. The kind that sends a shiver down your spine and digs your fingers into his shoulders. Your hips instinctively shift against his as the coolness of his breath fans the sensitive bruise forming against your skin. His lips press a kiss against the bruise, retracing their steps until they’re pressing against your lips suppressing your giggles.

The tap that echoes off the walls of the jeep causes you to jump. Your back pressed against the steering wheel, your heart skipping a beat as the horn fills the air. Trevante’s hands instinctively grip your waist, pulling you forward, steadying your body. He winces as your weight shifts, your hand pressing against his chest.

Through the damp window, you can make out a single figure. As if that isn’t enough to scare you, you realize the figure is surrounded by something much more frightening than a peeping Tom. The blending of red and blue lights flooding the car distorts the figure. A second tap, with the butt of the flashlight, against the glass follows.

“Don’t-” you catch Trevante’s wrist as he reaches to roll down the window.

“What? You think they’re gonna go away? We can’t exactly say we didn’t know they were there.”

The rain has stopped, leaving just the chilly October night air. You shiver against Trevante as he rolls the window down. There’s no point in climbing into the passenger seat, moving would only draw more attention to your current situation. Your face turns towards the passenger seat, Trevante’s hand lifting to shield his eyes as the flashlight floods the driver side.

Trevante blinks, allowing his eyes to adjust to the light residing on his face. His grip painfully tightens around your waist, his fingers attempting to send you a message, once he realizes who’s on the other end of the flashlight.

Your heart jumps into your throat as a man’s voice floats through the window.

“Game’s over Tre,” came a familiar voice. “You kids need to go ahead and clear out the lot. Take this somewhere else…Preferably with a condom, and off school grounds.”

Trevante nods quicker than intended. He clears his throat, his mind torn between focusing on hiding the fact you were half-naked in his lap and wrapping up the conversation so that he could roll up the window.

“Yes, sir.” He stammers, his weak smile arching the cop’s brow. “We’re – uh, we were actually getting ready to go grab some food. Kinda just lost track of time. But uh – we’ll go now. Sorry for the trouble.”

Trevante moves to roll up the window, but pauses as the officer rest his hand against the door. Cutting off the flashlight, he reaches in to clap Trevante on the shoulder.

“That was one hell of a game, kid” the cop whistled. “You’ve got some speed, son. Those boys from Eastside didn’t know what to do with yo-”

You grip your eyes shut as your father’s words come to an abrupt halt. His gaze lingers on the backseat, Tre’s eyes drifting shut once he remembers what’s in the back. Discarded in haste, your dress rested on top of his gym bag. The same dress your father had zipped for you this morning before you gave him a kiss and ran to catch the bus. You don’t have to turn and face to him to know that your dad’s shooting daggers into Trevante.

A shiver runs through your body as the door is yanked open flooding the jeep with the night air.

Pain shoots through your arm.

You wince as your dad’s grip tightens as he tugs you out the car. Your stomach flutters as nearly fall face forward towards the ground. Your dad pauses long enough to ensure both of your feet have planted before heading towards the awaiting squad car. You stumble forward as you struggle to match his much longer strides to prevent from tripping.

The initial shock is what allowed him to get you halfway to the squad car. But once you notice Ramos, his much younger partner hesitantly shrugging off the squad car, your heels dig into the ground.

“Dad, you’re hurting my arm –” You yank your arm back, the force causing your father’s grip to tighten. For a brief moment you both pause. The adrenaline from just a few moments before seems to have kicked into high gear as you meet your father’s gaze. “I can walk myself to the car.”

Trevante is already out of his jeep, partially afraid he might be drug out next. He watches you storm off to the car and takes a step in your direction. The more rational part of his brain tells him he should get back into his jeep and head home before your dad’s gun is out of its holster.

“Sir, I promise you, it’s not what it looks like-”

"Get your ass in the car, Tre."

It's not until you've slid into the back of the squad car, slamming the door as hard as you can for good measure, that Trevante realizes he was meant to join you.

Trevante hesitates. Pointing over his shoulder, he takes a step back towards the security of his jeep.

"Uh-my pop's will flip if I don't bring the car home."

"Don't worry about that," your dad smiles as he pauses to clap his hand on Trevante's shoulder. His grip digs into Trevante's skin, causing the young man to wince. "I'll explain it to him when I drop you off."

Once your dad is seated in the driver's seat, you lean forward, your fingers pressed against the grate.

"You're not going to let Ramos cuff me? Take me down to the station to prove a point?"

Your dad doesn't speak to you. Instead, he lifts his radio and shares that he's dropping two teenagers off at home.

In fact, he doesn't speak to anyone for the fifteen car ride home. He pulls up to the curb in front of your house and comes to a stop. You get out. You hop back as the squad car takes off. Driving past Trevante’s house, it does a quick U turn before speeding out of the neighborhood.

You take the front steps two at a time, not bothering to check if the door closes fully behind you. The last thing you need is for your mom to see you. You head straight to the shower, locking the door, and hoping no one will bother speaking to you. But as you cut off the light and head to your room, you know that is impossible.

You enter your room to find your mom seated on top of your bed, patiently waiting for you.

Your shoulders tense, your body bracing for the screams. But, your mom surprises you by quietly asking.

"Are you okay?"

"It's embarrassing. I wasn't doing anything-"

"That's not what your father told me." She interjects, your face falling into your hands. "He said you and Tre were...closer than usual."

You find yourself wondering if your father had recounted precisely how he'd found you.

"It was a kiss," you sigh. "Nothing else -- We didn't do anything else. We weren't going to."

"We're not surprised, sweetheart." Your mother's response causes you to blink in confusion. She was not lecturing you. She was using this opportunity to have yet another sex talk. "I mean -- your father is pretty surprised. But your father and I have had this conversation already. The two of you spend an awful amount of time together. You and Trevante have been friends for a while. You're both growing older, and your bodies are changing. He's noticing how your body's changing. You're noticing his-"

"Mom-"

"Your hormones are through the roof, your body might feel like it's hypersensitive around him. That's normal. You find yourself wondering if sex is as good as it looks on tv--"

"I don't need the sex talk again." You groan as you cross the room. Taking a seat beside her, you pick up your pillow before laying back. “And, what is it with you and hormones? This is the second time this week you’ve brought them up.”

Your mom doesn't quite believe you. "A mother’s intuition. The last time we had the sex talk, honey, you were a freshman. You weren't thinking about boys-"

"And I'm really not now," you mumble from beneath the pillow covering your face.

"Take that off."

You groan.

Doing as she says you allow her to tug against your hands pulling you up. Sitting against the headboard, you tuck your knees into your chest.

"Kissing can feel good. But it often leads to something more serious. I'm not as naive as your father. You can't stay a little girl forever. I just don't want you rushing into something you're not ready for. Or at least not with a clear head."

"Mom, I wanted to get my first kiss over with. So I'm not the only girl in the entire junior class that has never been kissed. Tre just did it as a friend. Nothing is going on between us. We're still best friends."

Your mom is silent for a moment. You feel nervous as her gaze studies your eyes before leaving your face. It feels like with just a look, she can visualize every moment from before, and what is to come. Heat races across your skin as you think of Trevante's lips against yours. It rushes to your thighs as her eyes find your neck. The place where his lips showed you that kisses didn't have to be on your lips to feel amazing. The place where your flesh was tender, bruised.

"Best friends still need to understand the importance of condoms." She smiles as your brows raise. You're not sure how you didn't notice it before, but she lifts the box of condoms from her lap. "You can't depend on a guy to have one. In fact, most will try and say you don't need them."

Noting your wide eyes, she says quietly. "It'll give your father more peace of mind if he knows you have these. Even if you're not planning on using them."

You take the box, tossing it towards the chair in the corner.

She gets up pausing long enough to press a kiss against your forehead.

"I think it might be best if Tre doesn't stop by for a while. At least until your father can cool down."

"Fine," you huff.

"Night sweetie."

You watch the door close behind her, listening to her retreat to her room. A few moments later, you hear her speaking to your father through the phone.

You get up, crossing the room. You retrieve the previously discarded box of condoms. Opening the top drawer putting the box of condoms inside. You're about to close it when you stop to rearrange the clothes inside. You cover the box from your sight. Pushing the drawer shut you take a deep breath.

You study your reflection in the mirror. You swollen lips, wide eyes. The bruise on your neck. You realize it won't be easy to hide it in tomorrow's heat. When you cross the room, you pause by the window. You realize Tre's curtains are open. The light in his room is on. From your windows, you can see directly into each other's bedroom.

No matter how many times you've shared this tidbit, Trevante doesn't seem to utilize the blinds. You tend to keep your blinds shut in the morning and after his return home from practice. Accidently spotting him walking around his room, stark naked in the eighth grade has made you overly cautious.

You are in the process of untying the string holding back your curtains when you realize he's moved in front of the window. From what you can tell, your father hasn’t done any physical damage to him.

Trevante tugs his shirt over his head lazily tossing it in the direction of his hamper. He pauses to release the breath he was holding. As he turns towards the window, you take a step to the side. Your breath hitches in your throat as you bump your elbow.

He waits a moment. The light flooding from your bedroom making him hopeful you’ll check to see if he’s home. But you never do.

two and a half years ago. (gif)

Catching my breath, pounding my chest

I’m loving you less, I need to confess.

What is it about firsts that the human brain loves so much?

It seems as though we always remember our firsts.

Our first kiss, the first time we heard our favorite song. The first time we felt an inkling of true love. We can remember everything down to what we were wearing, how fast our heart was beating, the weather. Everything. Down to the smallest of details.

When you're in love, being able to remember all of your firsts is a beautiful thing.

What about when you're no longer in love? When only one of you is still in love?

Suddenly, your firsts are different.

You begin to remember the first time you notice his lips felt different against yours. The first time his hand stops pressing against your lower back as he passes you in the kitchen for his morning coffee. The first time he stops whispering how beautiful you look when stealing a second kiss.

You remember the first time his phone lights up, illuminating the bedroom ceiling when he thinks you've dozed off. The first time he calls to tell you he's working late, so there's no need to postpone dinner. The first time dates that once seemed important only seem important when he is reminded of their significance. You even remember the first time you gave up on sending him reminders.

Most importantly, you remember the first time he tells you he isn't in love with you anymore.

It had come in your favorite restaurant: The Gold Eagle. William always took you there when he had news to share whether it be a promotion, the winning of a case, or when he wanted to renew your vows.

You weren't expecting any news in particular when he asked you to book a babysitter for Colby. Certainly not the end of your marriage.

The words had come abruptly -- or maybe it seemed abrupt to you.

How else would can you describe the shift in conversation from plans for your son's birthday party to not being in love anymore?

Abrupt. It is the only way to describe it.

When he'd first spoke the words, you didn't respond. Will had thought you hadn't heard him. Under the music and laughter surrounding you, he couldn't be too sure.

Will cleared his throat, shifting in his chair as he paused the action of cutting his steak.

"Did you hear me?" He'd asked. His brows knit together as he studied your face for any sign of acknowledgment. "Y/N."

You had heard him. Loud and clear.

Your mind concentrated on his word choice. It was meticulous. There was a time when you loved that Will spoke that way. He never strung people along, or beat around the bush. He always told the truth, sparing someone's feelings came second.

You always knew where he stood, or so you thought.

"I don't love you anymore." Those were the five words that had come out of his mouth.

He hadn't said, "I'm falling out of love with you." He wasn't giving you a warning as to what might come. He was careful with his words because he knew you. He knew you were hoping he hadn't made his mind up. He wanted you to understand that there was no room for repairing.

There was a tiny part of you that was not shocked. That little voice, in the back of your mind, that has been whispering to you the last year. The tiny voice that has been telling you to trust your gut each time you doubted Will.

Reaching forward, you picked up the wine glass before you. Will's eyes observed as you downed the red contents of the entire glass.

He wiped at his mouth, his jaw tightening as you reach across the table for his untouched glass. He doesn't bother objecting as you down the entire glass of wine. He subtly waved off the young waiter approaching with a fresh bottle in his hand.

Will cleared his throat, sitting up in his seat.

"I've already drawn up an agreement. I believe you'll find that it takes both you and Colby into consideration."

He reached into the pocket of his suit jacket. He produced a white envelope.

"William-," you gasp, the air in your lungs escaping you for a moment.

For a brief second, the sound halts his passing of the envelope. He watched the welling of your eyes. His throat clenched as he tried to swallow.

"I don't want to fight you for anything. I told my lawyer that the money's not an issue."

"The money you got because I stayed home with your son? The money you earned being able to show up at all hours at the drop of your boss's hat because I put off getting my masters and furthering my career? Now you’re kicking me and your son out of my house --"

"I told my lawyer that the money's not an issue." He repeated. "I have opted to split it all, 50/50. I'll pay a set amount the first of each month. It will be enough to keep you and Colby comfortable. It will cover his tuition-"

"What do you want me to fix?" Your question had come out softly. The raised question pulled Will's eyes from the envelope. "I'll do anything you want. I'll-Please do not break up our family."

William knew this would happen. He knew that letting you down wouldn't be easy, no matter how much he tried. That is why he can't meet your eye as your plea hangs in the air. He can't watch you cry, his gaze returning to the envelope before him. The tears which blurred your vision are his one weakness.

As he watched you wipe at your eyes, Will found his confidence slipping away. He leaned forward and placed the envelope in the center of the table. He needed to present his out, needed to make the break clean. There was one piece of information he knew would make you take your previous plea back.

"She's pregnant," Will continued as you concentrated on finishing the wine in your glass. It takes a moment for his words to sink in. You blink, meeting his gaze. "She wants to keep it, and...so do I."

Suddenly, everything made sense — Will's insistence on hiring a babysitter. There was a reason you were having dinner in a public place as opposed to the privacy of your dining room.

Will didn't want you to cause a scene, or at least knew you wouldn't. Not here.

"We can't have another kid right now, baby." You recited, the words halting his movements. "I'm swamped at the office. They're finally giving me a shot. I wouldn't want to leave you at home taking care of two kids just as I'm getting a break in my career."

Will shook his head. "I...It hasn't been right between us for months, Y/N. What's the point of staying together if we're drifting apart? Please don't say we need to stay together for Colby. I'm not leaving my son. But kids pick up on shit. No matter how good we are at faking it in front of him."

"Come on, y/n," he sighed as you glanced over your shoulder in search of your waiter. When you spotted the young man, you lifted your empty wine glass in the air. Will continued speaking the feeling he was digging himself into a deeper hole heavy against his chest. "This isn't a surprise to either of us-"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," you scoffed as you watched your hesitant waiter arrive. Sensing the tension between you and your husband, the young man quickly attempted to uncork the fresh bottle of wine. "I wasn't aware that my husband was fucking someone else while he was also fucking me-"

"Alexis and I-"

William watched your movements freeze.

The mentioning of the young paralegal's name seemed to break through the haze that had started forming on your mind.

"Could you be even more cliche? You fucked the office's teenybopper paralegal? And you got her pregnant? You could have just used a condom."

For a moment, William didn't react. He watched the range of emotions wash over your face. The frustration that morphs into disappointment. The resolution that forms as you reached forward taking the bottle of wine from the hands of the struggling waiter.

"He'll pay for it."

You removed the napkin from your lap, sitting it on the table. You picked up the envelope and shoved it into your purse. You're halfway to the door by the time Will can take out his wallet and pay.

The cold air hit you hard. The intake of fresh air causing your head to swirl. The burn of your chest and rush of your heart made the task of retrieving your valet ticket from your purse difficult.

Once you found the ticket, you turned. The wind was knocked out of you as ran into a solid barrier.

"Whoa. You okay?"

Trevante caught his breath, his hands instinctively finding your waist to keep you from falling back.

You looked up at him, the recognization on his face causing his brow to furrow.

"Fuck," you groaned, your hands instinctively pushing against his chest.

The look on your face caused Trevante to ignore your request of space; his gaze drifted over your shoulder in search of an explanation.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He asked, the warmth of his hands finding your cheeks. His grip was firm, forcing you to stop your attempt to turn your face away.

You shook your head; your eyes gripped closed.

"I can't see you right now. You of all people. I cannot handle seeing you right now."

"Are you okay?"

Will's grip found your right elbow, his touch seeming to snap you out of it. Wiping at your eyes, you allowed him to guide your body closer to his.

"It's all good, man," Will smiled as he watched Trevante reach out to take your left hand.

"You sure?"

With one look, William knew he was not the one the question was directed to.

His weight shifted forward as Trevante takes in the scrunching of your nose. He knows the action very well. He knew that the silent breaths you take are an attempt to stop the tears in your eyes from spilling over. But you also won't meet his gaze.

"Yeah, look, man. Y/N just had too much wine." Will chuckled as he retrieved the bottle from your hand. "I figured it'd be best she finished this one at home. You know how she is. Could never keep up with the guys."

You wrapped your arms around your waist, your eyes remaining on the ground before you as Will draped your jacket over your shoulders. You nod.

"I'm fine. Just ready to go home."

Trevante was thrown by how fast your entire demeanor had changed before his eyes. The tears were gone, along with the shaking of your voice. He almost thought he'd imagined it.

Before Trevante could respond, Will had led you back towards the valet. He helped you into the passenger seat, pausing long enough to give Trevante a wave before walking around the back of the car and getting into the driver's seat.

2019: this morning.

Concentrating on your son, you smile as Colby absentmindedly toys with the phone in his hand.

The headphones resting over his curls, obstruct any sound or conversations you don't want him to hear. After your reunion, he'd climbed into your lap to watch an episode of Teen Titans.

You're both seated outside of the courtroom, patiently awaiting your turn. The clock on the wall, states you have five more minutes until your lives officially change.

They have changed steadily over the past few months, more noticeably for you than Colby. It took a while for him to understand that his dad was no longer living with you. William tried to stay present. He saw Colby more than you initially thought he would. The two of you alternate pickups and drop-offs at school. William stops by to share dinner with the two of you on Sundays, taking Colby to eat with him and Alexis twice a week.

When he's feeling up to it, Colby spends a week with his father. Usually, he opts for weekends. He hasn't warmed up to Alexis yet. Or their daughter.

Today is the first time you've physically held your son in two weeks. William had taken him to Atlanta to visit his parents for their wedding anniversary at the start of summer break.

"Thanks for letting me take him."

Instinctively, your eyes leave your Colby to find Alexis.

She is waiting beside William's lawyer, by the courtroom doors. She is cradling their daughter, Lola, in her arms. Although William's lawyer is speaking to her, Alexis's attention is focused on you.

"He is your son."

"I know, Y/N." William takes a deep breath. He releases it before adding. "I know two weeks is a long time, and you didn't want him to go...so thanks. It meant a lot to my parents."

You nod before looking in his direction.

"I'm shocked Alexis didn't show up with balloons, streamers, a "bride to be" sash, save the date cards...a marriage license for the judge to sign after she notarizes the divorce decree."

Your words harden William's jaw, his gaze sinking to his lap.

"We haven't spoken much about it," he breathes, but the wiping of his palms against his pants legs begs to differ. "We're still trying to settle in with Lola."

"But you have talked about it."

"She wants it to happen sooner than later."

"Well, you can come back here tomorrow and make it official. As of today, you are officially free of me, Mr. Prescott."

Most of the court proceedings are a blur — stipulations, and compromises going in one ear and out the other.

You didn't need to focus in on the words. You'd memorized that divorce agreement front to back. It's impossible not to when you've found yourself crying over it as many times as you have the past few months.

Many of those tear-filled nights, when you'd settled for a glass of wine over blowing William's brains out, you'd thought of calling your lawyer. She and everyone who learned the details of your split urged you to file under claims of adultery. It could increase the amount of child support and alimony, but it wouldn't give you any satisfaction. Your mother didn't care about satisfaction. She wanted you to hit William where it hurt, or at least where it would hurt Alexis the most, in his pocket. But you didn't.

It when you are having a lasting doubt about your decision when a slight nudge comes to your side.

Looking up, you find the judge's expectant gaze on you.

"Mrs. Prescott, would you like to keep your last name?" She asked for a second time. "You have the option of remaining a Prescott, or returning your legal name to that of your maiden."

"Um..." Alexis's brows shoot up at the hesitation. She leans over, whispering to William. He looks away from you long enough to respond to her. Keeping his last name had never crossed your mind, for more than a few brief seconds. It always seemed unimportant compared to ensuring you were financially stable for Colby. "I would like to keep it, your honor. It's the same as my son's."

William nods, his reaction falling on the opposite end of the spectrum when compared to Alexis's.

"Mrs. Prescott will keep her legal name," the judge noted. "As of today, upon the signing of the presented documentation, from both parties, your divorce will be finalized."

William meets your gaze. His fingers gently ruffle Colby's hair. Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss against your son’s forehead. He finds himself reaching out to wrap his arm around you, his arm giving you a gentle squeeze. He accepts the pen offered to him by his lawyer. William’s hesitation catches the attention of his fiance, but not yours as you place a kiss against Colby’s cheek.

"To new beginnings," his lawyer smiles, squeezing William's shoulder. The pressure a mixture of reassurance and urge causing WIlliam to remove the cap before leaning over the document.

"Yeah...new beginnings."

2019: later on in the day. (gif)

"Do I have to wear this?"

Tugging against the collar of his shirt, Colby attempts to undo the top button. The light green polo button-down was one of the many gifts found in Colby's suitcase, courtesy of William's parents. Each time he visits them, they send him home with an entirely new wardrobe.

He needs to start dressing like a young man, Y/N. William's mother would always say.

"Yes," you sigh. Taking a step forward, you ring the doorbell for a second time before moving back to stand alongside your son.

"Daddy's always making me dress like this," Colby huffs, giving the collar another tug. "I hate dressing like this."

"It's because you look so handsome," you gently tease. "If I unbutton it, will you feel better?"

Nodding, Colby allows a grin to slide across his face as you kneel down before him. Undoing the top button you watch him release a dramatic sigh of relief.

"Hold on, let me get my glasses. I believe my eyes are deceiving me. Y/N Prescott?" Stepping onto the front porch, Trevante's father joking adjusted the frames resting on his nose. "I can't remember the last time that husband of yours let you come down to this part of town. Last time I saw you, you definitely weren't this tall, little man. How are you, Colby?"

"Good, sir. Thank you for asking." Bouncing his weight against his heels, Colby pauses long enough to shake the hand offered to him. He attempts to take a step inside in search of the children's laughter from inside the house. But you catch his shoulder causing him to stay put.

Mr. Rhodes looks over your shoulder, his gaze scanning the street.

"Speaking of husband's, where's yours? I wish I could say I've forgotten what he looks like, but his face is all over town now that he's made partner at that law firm. What is called now?"

"He couldn't make it." Offering up the platter of brownies in your hand, you feel your shoulders relax as his attention shifts to the snacks. "I made your favorite."

Lifting the lid, Mr. Rhodes sneaks a brownie out.

"Go ahead and takes those in, sweetheart. You know the way. Let's not tell, the misses that I had one."

"Your secret's safe with me."

You keep your free hand on Colby's head as you make your way inside. He knows he must stay at your side until he delivers the gift for Trevante's mom.

With each step, you find you're surprised how familiar the house feels despite the number of years since your last visit.

The music blasting outside is muffled by the shut screen door leading to the back yard, and the laughter and voices coming from the kitchen.

Nearly all of the wives and mothers from the neighborhood are in the kitchen, ducking under and stepping around one another as they balance different plates and bowls. You remain off to the side, suddenly feeling out of place.

Trevante's mother spots Colby first, her squeal of excitement pulling a shy grin from your son.

"Colby Andrew Prescott, my angel!" Scooping him up, she quickly places a kiss against his cheek before stopping to give his face a good once over. "You have gotten so big! And so handsome, just like your father. I've missed you. Both of you!"

Pulling you into a tight hug, his mother places a quick kiss against your cheek.

"Can you be an angel, and take these out to Tre? We're running behind with the food."

Before you can respond, Trevante's mother has replaced the platter of brownies with a plate stacked high with hamburger patties.

She gives you a gentle push towards the back yard, leaving you no room for opposition.

When you'd gotten the call from her, a few days prior, you thought it was a mistake. Trevante was coming home, and she was inviting everyone in the neighboorhood to stop by the house. Your initial plan had been to not show. It wasn't as though the two of you were that close anymore. Surely no one would notice if you didn't attend.

Maybe that's why you pause in the doorway when you spot him across the deck.

He's peppering playful kisses against the cheeks of his niece. Her giggles fill the air as he catches her fingers before her lips before pressing a final kiss against her forehead.

Placing her down, Trevante picked up the tongs before removing the hot dogs from the grill.

"Can I have two of those?" Colby asks as he stops at your side.

"You can have as many as you want," Trevante chuckles as he takes a step in your direction. "Man, you've gotten big, kid."

Colby nods, his smile growing as he tilts his head back for a better look at Trevante.

"That's what everyone keeps telling me."

Smiling, Trevante squats down before Colby.

"How old are you now? Five?"

"No!" Colby's laughter fills the air as he rolls his eyes. "I'm eight. I turn nine in fourteen days."

"Fourteen, huh? I better start looking for a gift."

Colby's eyes widen at the offer, his head tilting back to meet your gaze. "My momma has the list...if you need help."

"Alright. I'll get a copy. Up top." Trevante winces as their palms collide, shaking his hand out. "Take it easy on me, lil' man. I'm not as strong as you anymore. How 'bout you go play for a bit. Work up that appetite?"

Lightly ruffling his hair, you watch as Colby takes off the yard towards the other kids. Your focus remains on him for a moment. When you look back to Trevante, you find his gaze on you.

He accepts the plate of patties you offer him, his gaze remaining on your face causing you to redirect your attention.

He knows the source of your gaze's redirection is him, but he doesn't look away. He finds his mind picking up on the visible changes you present. It seems now that you're in one another's presence, it occurs to Trevante the last time you were this close to him was two and a half years ago.

Placing the plate aside, he reaches into the nearby cooler.

"Want a beer?"

"Uh, no, thank you." You look up, watching as he twists the cap off of his bottle before taking a sip. "I'm Colby's designated driver. We're going to get ice cream later, so...lemonade for me..."

The heat on your skin causes you to point over your shoulder. "I'm actually supposed to help your mom. So, I'll see you later -- when I come back for the burgers."

"Okay." Trevante smiles. The passing of his eyes over you for a second time causes you to take a step back. "Look, don't be stranger. I don't want another two years to pass before you give me more than five words."

You nod. It takes you a moment to realize you haven't spoken. When you do, you manage an, "Okay."

There is a silence that rests between the two of you for a brief second.

"Just uh...come find me. Colby and I are at my parent's old house."

Trevante nods, his brow furrowing as his eyes linger on your bare ring finger.

"I know the one."

Turning, you start back towards the house but pause as you near the door.

Biting your lip, you release the breath weighing against your chest.

"Tre." At the sound of his name, Trevante glances back. You wait until he turns to face you to speak. Your gaze falls to your shoes. "What did my dad say to you that night?"

It was a question you found yourself pondering more frequently as of late. One you'd never mustered the courage to ask when the first shift in your relationship occurred.

His silence makes you think he's having trouble remembering what night you're speaking of. You had nineteen years worth of consecutive nights spent together to catalog.

When you look up, you find his gaze is across the yard. A soft smile is on his lips. Lifting his beer to his lips, Trevante takes a sip before taking a step back.

He meets your gaze before smiling, "these should be done in about twelve."

Taking a second step back, he turns and focuses on laying out the fresh patties across the grill.

..... to be continued .......

tags: @chaneajoyyy @kemkem101 @l-auteuse @doublesidedscoobysnacks@ghostfacekill-monger @blackpinup22 @blkroyalltea @essaysbyciara@wakanda-inspired @eyestheyseeyou @hufflepuff-ish

#let me know what you think?#aja naomi king is who i think of when I write this #but i made it a reader fic for ya'll #Trevante Rhodes #trevante rhodes fanfic #trevante rhodes imagine #rome flynn #trevante rhodes x reader #fake it 'til you make it

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