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asxgard · 3 months ago

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A Lesson in Romantics | [2/2]

Resident!Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x resident!f!reader

First Part: A Lesson in Vulnerability

Summary: A first date makes it obvious you two are out of practice. It’s perfect.

[ My Masterlist ]

Note: Expect more from/inspired by this Robby and Reader! I have plans for them💜

Word Count: 3.1k+

Most of my works are 18+ due to adult language and content

Warnings: foul language, SMUT (MINORS DNI!!), afab!reader, p in v, oral (f! receiving), pet names (sweetheart), some fluff, established relationship

not beta read

Michael’s heart raced the entire way to his apartment, mind foggy with the untold possibilities. His anxious mind kept running through all the scenarios in his head.

What if you were pregnant? What would that mean for you? For your relationship? For your jobs?

His gut twisted, feeling guilty. This was all backwards. He was supposed to take you out on a date first, bring you flowers, complete his residency and become an attending physician. Maybe get married, buy a house somewhere, maybe even get a dog, then have kids.

He could be robbing you of your residency, or at least throw it into unnecessary complications. You didn’t deserve that. You were competent. You were smart. You were great with patients, keeping a level head even in the worst situations presented. You were going to make a great doctor.

After the results showed negative, a relief filled him. But a part of him was also thankful. Who knew how long it would have taken him to admit his feelings otherwise.

Add in the way you were now grinning at him? He wouldn’t trade that for anything.

“So that date? You like Italian?”

—

Nerves were wreaking havoc on your stomach, butterflies threatening their escape from the moment you got back to your apartment after shift. Why on earth were you so nervous? You had hung out with Michael so many times before, shared meals, shared his bed.

But this is different. This is going to be our first date. You thought, wringing your hands together.

After taking a quick shower to wash off your day, you then had a decision to make. Michael had said it would be a nice place, just slightly above casual. You opened the door to your tiny closet, eyes flickering over your very limited options. With your residency, there was not much time to be social — you occasionally hung out with your friends, but aside from that, you were usually with Michael.

There was only one suitable option in your closet, which was a bit of a disappointment, but you could make it work. You tried to style your hair into something a bit more fancy than how you usually wore it at the hospital, but it was just not cooperating.

He knocked on your door right at 8, entirely too punctual for the mess you were. One last look in the mirror and you decided you looked good. Good enough, but who cares.

Michael was holding roses in his hand when you opened the door, thankful your roommate was doing an overnight. He took your breath away, standing in the doorway with sheepish eyes and a tiny smile. His beard was neatly trimmed, and his hair was perfectly styled.

“Hi.” You breathed out, looking back at the flowers in his hand.

His smile grew, “Hi.”

You invited him in, taking the flowers from him and inhaling their scent. You noticed a few were bruised, petals falling off one, but the thought of them warmed your heart.

“These are really pretty, thank you.”

“Yeah, of course.” He cleared his throat. “You look beautiful.”

You grinned at him, filling a vase you found in the back of your cabinet with water.

“So do you.” You told him. “I mean, handsome. You look handsome.”

It was true, dressed in simple dark blue slacks and a nicely fitted grey polo. Despite knowing all the freckles on his body, your cheeks heated at the sight of him in your kitchen.

The car ride to the restaurant was worse, trying to make small talk and failing miserably. The direction of conversation steadily moved back toward work. It was comfortable, but made you feel like you were just back in the hospital.

Once sat at the table, your eyes wandered over the menu.

“So, tell me about yourself.” He said finally, dark eyes watching you across the table.

It was such a simple question, but one steeped in the weight of what this meant. He knew your take-out orders by heart, how you preferred a specific herbal tea when it got late, how you liked to be touched, but he could not tell you a single thing about your past, your family, or life before residency.

You told him. Your hometown, your family, your friends. How, despite how curious you were, you refused to dissect the frog in sixth grade. It all felt pretty surface level when you turned the question around on him.

“I was born in California—” He paused over his pasta, eyes faraway while you watched gears turn in his head, “My parents set high expectations for me, but more so to go into surgery. I don’t know, I tried it. I just felt like I could make more of a difference down in the Emergency Department.”

For some reason, that surprised you. The passion and attention he brought, even as a resident, spoke more to someone who had considered the Emergency Department for a long time.

“Surgery?” You asked, smirking, “I don’t see it.”

He chuckled, “I think I was missing the necessary ego to make it work.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”

Your banter with him was familiar, a liferaft in the sea of uncertainty. You didn’t even remember the last time you had been on a date.

Over dessert, he asked about med school and you explained how you had chosen it.

“I think I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it and the ED just made sense. It’s grueling and tragic, and one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But I’ve always loved a challenge.”

He smirked, “Really? Never would’ve guessed.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smirk was back.

—

When dinner was paid for — you had offered to split the check, and he had laughed like it was a joke — you walked to the front of the restaurant to find rain pouring outside. He had parked several blocks away to avoid paying for parking.

“Let me go get the car, you wait here.”

You raised a simple eyebrow at him, “A little rain never hurt anyone. Come on.”

You grabbed his hand and tugged him forward, bringing a laugh from his lips. He ran forward with you, fingers intertwined with yours. You were both panting when you reached his car, and he pulled you quickly into a kiss — the awkward tension from earlier in the date completely washed away.

He kept you still, hands on your face, rain quickly soaking into your clothes. You moved your hands to his chest and softly pushed him off, looking into his eyes with a smile and noting how his hair was sticking to his forehead. He grinned at you and unlocked the car, and you quickly got in to avoid any more of the downpour.

When he put the key into the ignition, his car stuttered to start — clicking before giving up all together. He stared at his dashboard in what appeared to be disbelief.

Then he did something that surprised you, he laughed.

“This is not how I wanted this date to go.” He said, his tone breathy, before turning his dark brown eyes to you. Water dripped down his nose.

“Oh?” You wondered, wiping some of the rain from your eyes and forehead.

“Yeah,” he said softly, “you know, get you flowers, hold your hand, walk you to your door. Maybe kiss you goodnight.”

You could not help but smile at him, endeared by it. “We can try to catch a cab, call a tow truck in the morning.”

He leaned against the driver’s seat and sighed.

“This night is going so much better than I was hoping for.” You told him earnestly. “I’m not going to let a little rain ruin it.”

He looked over at you, gentle smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Cab it is.”

Back in the rain, his hold on your hand never slipped as you both tried to hail a cab. Thankfully it was not too late and one eventually was driving down the street you were on.

In the quiet, you played with his fingers, savoring the feeling of his skin on yours. A new feeling was beginning to invade most of your senses, flooding your body with warmth. It was different than the heat of desire, or the rush of excitement when you had first invited him into your bed, but it was also simultaneously both of those things. But was also this: the calm of his presence.

The cab ride was short, and after you were out of the car, Michael’s hand found yours again.

At your door, the awkward air began to return, though you were thankful for the overhang to keep you both out of the rain.

“I’m not good at this.” He told you, eyes on your hands.

“Practice makes perfect.” You whispered.

He lifted his eyes to meet yours, his sheepish smile returning. The emotional intimacy would take some work, but the connection was undoubtedly there.

“I just wanted—I hoped—”

“What are second dates for?” You asked, moving to unlock your door.

There was relief in his exhale, “Yeah, you want a second date?”

“I don’t let just anyone walk me to my door.” You told him simply, smile growing as you stepped into your apartment. With an eyebrow raised, “Do you want a second date?”

“I want you,” He said, tone deeper. “In whatever way you’ll have me.”

There was something deeper to his words, but your desire to have him had begun to flood your senses. You turned to find him impossibly close, dark eyes watching you, chest against yours. The heat of him was overwhelming.

“I want you,” You echoed. “In every way that matters.”

His lips crashed to yours, a clash of teeth and need, but you met him in equal measure.

You were both completely drenched from the rain, but between rushed, eager kisses, you found yourself laughing against his lips. Your happiness was overflowing and he swallowed it with equal need. HIs hands were on you, peeling the wet clothes from your skin.

The path to your bedroom was one you both committed to memory, even eyes closed and limbs tangled. Your dress was discarded somewhere in the hall, along with his polo, and your hands found his chest, moving up his shoulders and then his wet hair.

Your hands found his belt right as you entered your bedroom, and Michael kicked the door closed behind him, hands exploring your body. You were quick to pull off his belt, trying to tug off his pants before he breathed a chuckle, helping you.

His lips were on you again, moving from your jaw to your throat, hands exploring the skin of your hips. You backed up, pulling him with you until you bumped into your bed and then you pulled him down with you. You move up just enough to get your legs onto the mattress and his hot mouth followed you, eagerly taking your lips again.

He removed your underwear with one hand, his other arm keeping him upright beside you. You held him against you, senses hazy with the feel of him—his cologne, his lips, his hands.

Kissing down your throat until he found that particularly sensitive spot near your collarbone, you let out a whine, hands grabbing at his biceps. His chuckle was breathy against your skin, but he did not relent, moving steadily down. Across your sternum, between your breasts and down your stomach, his kisses wet and determined. Over your pubic bone before diverting to your thighs.

You groaned, grabbing a handful of his hair with one hand, the other at your side. Flames of desire licked up your belly, a throbbing need between your thighs.

“Please.” You weren’t sure what exactly you were begging for.

“Please, what, sweetheart?” He asked, brown eyes finding yours before sucking the skin along your inner thigh.

You tried to take a deep breath, but his lips moved up your thigh, forcing another whine from your lips, “Michael.”

“I’m right here.” It was gentle, tone huskier than usual. “Tell me what you need.”

“I want you to taste me.” You finally got out.

He raised an eyebrow in challenge, but decided to show you a little bit of mercy. His hot breath moved closer, hands gripped tightly on your thighs, before pulling you down slightly to meet his mouth.

The first drag of his tongue was divine, and you squeaked out a small moan, fisting the sheets below you. He sucked on your clit, tracing one of his fingers up your thigh, and you desperately tried to remember to breathe. His fingers were at your entrance before you processed it, gathering your slick and his saliva and then pushing into you.

You moaned again, fingers tightening in his hair, a burning working its way to your belly. The feel of his beard against your skin, his lips and his tongue, his fingers curling deliciously inside you.

It was all too much.

“Fuck,” you breathed out. “That’s so good.”

He hummed against your clit, the vibration making your eyes roll into the back of your head. He removed his mouth and before you could complain, replaced it with his thumb. He left a sloppy kiss along your hip.

“You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart. You like that?”

You moaned again, trying to ground down on his fingers.

His lips met your clit again and you felt your orgasm closing in — licking up your spine until it was all you could consider. His pace never relented, and the sound of his moan between your legs was what sent you hurtling over the edge, blinded by the white heat of it, disregarding how obscene you sounded.

Michael worked you through it until you try to bring his head up, one hand in his hair and the other on his cheek, guiding him to your mouth.

“Fuck, you did so good.” He said against your lips.

You tasted yourself on his tongue, moving your legs until they wrapped around his hips. You became painfully aware of his underwear still between you two. You moved your hand from his hair to pull him free. He was heavy in your hand, and despite your hazy thoughts, you did not move him where you wanted him most.

“Nightstand.” You breathed, opening your eyes to look at him.

He nodded, moving to stretch and open the drawer of your nightstand. He grabbed a condom and moved to sit on his haunches, putting it on. You drank in the sight of him, admiring the biceps he had gained from lifting patients to the patch of hair from his navel to his crotch.

You brought your hand to his hip, barely hiding your impatience, and you watched him grin. He was back on you in an instant, tongue entering your mouth and resting his arms on either side of you. He moved up just enough to guide himself to your slick entrance, and you huffed out a whine, putting your hands on his back to try to bring him closer.

Michael entered you slowly, eyes closing and face blissed out. There was a groan low in his throat, which reignited all your nerves, feeling the stretch of him. He filled you completely, the feel of him all consuming.

Hooking both legs around him, you brought him closer until he bottomed out. You could see in his expression that he was trying not to rush, allowing you time to adjust, but you just wanted him to move.

“Michael, please.”

He opened his eyes again, brown eyes holding an emotion you did not recognize, trapping you with his gaze. It was heavy, but it felt right. You brought one hand to the side of his face, smiling at him, before he kissed you again.

The drag of his hips was slow, inching out of you before gently thrusting back in. It was more sensual than you had experienced with him, but you relished in it. You threw your arms around his neck and held him close.

He began to pick up his pace, moans breathy and quiet. The feeling of him inside you brought the heat back, reducing you to moans and incoherent thoughts, centered on the man above you. Only him him him.

“You take me so well,” he said in your ear, kissing your jaw and your throat.

You keened below him, and he swallowed your moans with his mouth. He thrust harder, deeper, and he invaded every string of thought, your body blazing with pleasure.

“Michael—oh, oh!” You moaned into his mouth, legs tightening around his hips.

He slipped his hand between you, moving to wear your bodies met, rubbing fast circles on your clit. You clenched around him, eyes screwing tightly.

His hand was on your cheek, “I want you to look at me when you come, sweetheart.”

You tried to listen, focusing on his brown eyes and you shuddered. He adjusted his thrusts, brushing against that spongy spot inside you and your second orgasm ripped through you.

You kept your eyes on his until you lost yourself in the pleasure he was giving you. He groaned loudly as you pulsed around him, head dropping beside you, his breaths on your shoulder. He fucked you through it, his hips picking up the pace as he approached the edge of his own.

His next kiss was sloppy and full of unsaid emotion, and you took it all, hands in his hair. He came undone with a low groan, hips stuttering against yours until they slowed to a stop. He dropped his head back to your shoulder, breathing ragged.

You stayed wrapped up in each other while you caught your breath, his forehead eventually finding yours. You ran your nails along his scalp and he hummed, breathing through his nose, eyes still closed. Despite wanting to keep him on — and in — you, you eventually removed your legs from around his hips.

He took the hint, slipping out of you with the tiniest hiss, and you felt empty without him. He quickly discarded the condom into the trashcan near your nightstand before laying back on the bed. You were both quiet except for the heavy breathing.

He scooched closer to you, gathering you up in his arms until you were half on him, half on your bed, leg thrown over his. He kissed your hairline, his hand tracing lazy circles into the skin of your hip. You moved your hand up over his heart and enjoyed the feel of it below your palm.

“I saw there was an art exhibit opening next weekend. We should go.” He said.

You hummed, “Sounds like a date.”

“Hopefully it won’t rain this time.” He chuckled.

“It was the perfect excuse to get you out of your clothes, though.”

He laughed beneath you, “You never need an excuse.”

“Fair.”

“Maybe I’ll get better at this whole dating and romance thing.”

“I’ve got no complaints,” You said, with a lazy grin. “But hey, practice makes perfect.”

“I like practicing with you.”

And you enjoyed practicing with him, too.

[ Alternate Ending ]

All Dr. Robby Content: @cherriready @kittenhawkk

I haven’t written smut in awhile, so I apologize if it was trash

#the pitt #michael robinavitch #dr robby #michael robinavitch x female reader #michael robinavitch x reader #dr robby x reader #michael robinavitch/you #asxgard writes #resident michael robinavitch #carter with a beard is just robby #are you gonna look at me and tell me that i’m wrong??#my john carter era is coming #i can feel it

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deadhands69 · 6 months ago

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Laundry Detergent

MDNI

loser!Shigaraki x reader

One last fic for the year! Happy New Years!! Contains: gn reader/maybe afab if you squint, cussing, pacifying loser/sub!shigaraki by sitting on his lap/teasing him, light choking, male orgasm. [quick read; wc: 1k]

Shigaraki has been in a mood lately, which means the whole league is miserable. After the last failed mission, he’s been taking it out on everyone and everything for a week now. Between his snide comments and sulking, you’ve all had enough of it.

It was all your fault, really. Or so he decided. If you hadn’t worn that scent he liked, it would have been fine. You know, the one he would kill for. The one that makes him want to drop down on his knees for you and beg you to touch him.

‘My laundry detergent?’ you once asked.

Yeah, that. Or whatever. In any case, it drives him crazy and it’s definitely your fault the mission wasn't going as planned.

The idea was easy, or it should have been if he didn’t have a massive erection stealing the blood from his brain the entire time. All he had to do was decay four city blocks. He only made it through two before running off and ducking away somewhere private to deal with something. Leaving the rest of you to handle his task and your own.

He wouldn’t admit that part in front of everyone else (or to you) but the passive aggression continued to linger through the week.

After the last meeting abruptly ends with him rage quitting, you’re left in a room of your coworkers (if you could call them that.) They all stare at you.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do,” you assert, “he’s the one who blew the mission now he’s pissed at all of us.”

“I don’t know, fix it,” Dabi snaps before walking out.

Everyone shuffles back to their own spaces, in varying levels of anger. On top of this, no one has been sleeping well lately because Tomura keeps you up all night barking at his video game and slamming the controller on his desk every time he dies. Which is often.

It really has been getting to you all.

Later that evening, you’re walking past his room. The muffled sound of him grumbling at his most recent death radiates through the wall. And, like clockwork you hear the controller crack as he quits for the next five minutes to pace around his room in anger.

This has gone on for too long, you need to fix this.

“Shigaraki?” you try knocking.

No answer. Of course.

“Tomura,” you shove the door open, slamming it behind you.

“What the fuck, [y/n] get out of my room.”

“Not until you calm down, you’re making everyone miserable.”

It’s true and he knows it. He doesn’t have anything to say in defense so he settles for dropping back onto his chair, crossing his arms, and glaring at you.

Even when he’s like this, you get the feeling he would do anything you say.

“Do you want to tell me why you’re still in such a shit mood?” you ask, bridging the gap between the two of you to where your knees nearly touch his as you stand above him.

“No,” he grumbles, eyes shifted down. He adjusts his sweatpants in a way he thinks is inconspicuous, but of course you notice it.

In response, you slide your hoodie off. Lightly grabbing the hem with both hands while you slowly tease it over your head and throw it on his bed. The fresh laundered scent drifting towards his face.

“What are you doing?” he asks, looking increasingly flustered.

Leaning forward, you whisper in his ear, “keep your hands on the armrests.”

“Huh?” He stares up at you, eyes filled with confusion and nerves.

The same eyes widen immediately when you sit on his lap. Twisting your torso to press his face into your chest.

You feel the drool of his lips as he gasps into the skin above your low-cut tank top. His chin nestled lower while he takes huge breaths. Inhaling the scent of you. His erection pressing into your ass as he tries desperately to hold his hips still. He’s not even trying to hide it anymore.

He could probably cum right now, but you have ulterior motives. You pull back and watch as his pretty lips quiver at the loss.

“Are you going to be a good boy and calm down?” you ask, index finger and thumb pinching his chin to force his face up towards you.

“Uhnhuuh,” he moans.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” he chokes out, “yeah. Anything.”

“Good,” you reply. “I’m not fucking you,” you say, then more quietly whisper, “at least not today.”

“Wait, you w- aahhhh”, he moans as you slide your hips back into the painfully hard bulge he tucked into his waistband.

Your hand slides down his chin to the soft skin on his neck. Grabbing tighter than polite, but you know he loves it by the way he squirms under you. His hips jutting up into your ass involuntarily.

Licking your lips, you twist your face to his. Mouth only millimeters from his and there’s nothing he can do but whimper.

Shifting your weight, you rub against him again. This time he gasps and grips his chair so tight you worry he might decay it. While he catches his breath under you, you watch the wet stain creep through his thin t-shirt.

That was fast.

Smoothly, you climb off his lap and head for the door with one last glance over your shoulder to admire the mess you made. Shigaraki is so fucked out his eyes struggle to stay open. Hands still dangling over the edge of the armrest. You did good, you think as you head back to your room to lay in bed. The whole place is quiet. Everyone in the league really owes you for that one.

Ten minutes later, your eyes shoot open.

Fuck, you forgot your favorite hoodie.

m.list

#youre definitely not getting that back #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura smut #loser!shigaraki #bnha smut #my hero academia smut #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #mha shigaraki #shigaraki x smut #bnha shigaraki #tomura shiragaki #loser shigaraki

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lightsoutmatthews · 26 days ago

Note

I am so happy I found your blog! Your writing is so addictive. Can you do a story with Willy where him and reader get into their first big fight and she ends up crying in front of him for the first time? Willy feels so bad and becomes a big softy :)

Oh god, the length of this got so out of hand. I binge watched almost the entire third season of "Welcome to Wrexham" while writing that´s how long it took to bring all my thoughts to life. The creative juices have been flowing last night.

And thank you SO much for the compliments, I´m so so happy people enjoy my writing 🙏🏼

I just want to feel like you care – William Nylander

You weren’t even sure how it started. The tension had been building for a while, you just never realized until it actually exploded.

William had been away on a road trip, you had been stuck working late almost every night, a somewhere along the line your texts to each other had started to shrink from full conversations to a few tired words here and there.

The day he returned he came through the door a little after 9 pm, dropped his bad by the wall next to the door and mumbled a “hey” as he walked straight to the kitchen, grabbing himself a glass of water. No hug. No kiss. Not even a smile like he was happy to see you.

You watched him from the couch, your heart dropping at the lack of acknowledgement. You hadn’t expected fireworks or anything, but something more than a “hey”. A sign that he had missed you as much as you had missed him.

After considering your options for a second you stood and followed him into the kitchen, arms crossed.

“Hey,” you said, voice hesitant. “How was the trip?”

“Long,” he replied. “Glad it´s over.”

You nodded slowly “I missed you.”

He gave you a tried half-smile in return, leaning against the counter. “Yeah. Same.”

And that was that.

You wanted, hoping he would say something else. Ask about your week. Notice how drained you looked but instead, he pushed away from the counter and walked back to the living room, grabbing the remote as he sat on the couch.

That was when something in you snapped.

“That’s it?” you asked, following him again. “You´ve been gone for over a week and all I get is a “hey” and a “yeah, same”?”

William blinked, clearly caught off guard by your sudden outburst. “I´m tired, babe. Can we not do this right now?”

“Do what exactly?” you shot, sharper than intended. “Have a normal conversation? Be excited to see each other?”

“I am happy to see you, but I just got home, like, ten minutes ago. Can I sit down for five seconds?” he argued, voice tired, like he didn’t want to deal with this right now.

“No. You had a week full of minutes, William. I´ve barely heard from you. You couldn’t even send a full sentence in a text.”

Now he glared at you. “Why are you coming at me like this?”

“I´m not coming at you,” you underlined the words with air quotes. “I´m trying to connect with you because I missed you and you act like I´m a burden for just talking.”

He rubbed his eyes, a heavy sigh leaving his mouth. “Don’t twist it. You know what I mean.”

“No, I really don’t because from where I´m standing, you walked in here, barely looked at me, and now I´m somehow the bad guy for wanting more than a grunt and a “same” from my boyfriend after he didn’t see me for a week,” you elaborated, trying to not get your voice to rise, but you were failing miserably.

“I didn’t say you were the bad guy. I said I´m tired. Can that be enough for once?” he grunted.

You stared at him, heart pounding, blood rushing in your ears. You tried to stay calm, have a leveled discussion about this, but his lack of interest in talking about this and lack of understanding your point was getting to you. “Do you even want to be here?”

His head snapped up and back towards you. “What kind of question is that?”

“A serious one,” you shot back. “Because I feel like I´m the only one trying half the time. I call, you´re busy, not even telling me what exactly you´re busy with. I text and you give one-word answers hours later. Now, you come home and act like I´m part of the furniture.”

He stood up, shaking his head but facing you head on. “I said I was tired. I´m doing my best.”

“Your best? This is your best?” you scoffed.

“I´ve been on the road, sleeping four hours a night back-to-backs, and now I come home, and you jump down my throat.”

“Excuse me?” you gasped.

“It´s always the same stuff.” he said, gesturing vaguely. “You always push, always pick at stuff until it blows up. I can´t even walk in the door without being interrogated.”

You blinked, stunned trying to process what he was saying. “Interrogated?” you paused for a second before speaking again. “I asked how your trip was.”

“It´s the way you ask,” his voice slightly raised. “Like you are just waiting for me to mess up.”

Your eyes widened. “I´m not waiting for you to mess up, William. I´m waiting for you to show me that you give a shit about this relationship.” You swallowed hard, trying to suppress the emotions that were making their way up your body. Trying to blink the tears that were picking at the corner of your eyes away.

“Of course I give a shit,” he snapped. “Why would I be here if I didn’t?”

“I don’t know, honestly,” you argued back, crossing your arms like you could use them as armor against his words. “Because lately it feels like I´m holding this together with duct tape and hope.”

He let out a short, bitter laugh. “Oh, come on. Don’t be dramatic.”

And that was the moment. You blinked once, then again a second later.

You felt your throat tighten, heat behind your eyes. You turned away so he would see, but the tears pushed forward too fast.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to compose yourself, trying to push it down, but your voice cracked when you spoke. “Don’t call me that.”

Before he could answer you were already walking again, past him, down the hall to the bedroom.

“Wait, babe, please,” he rushed out, following behind.

“Don’t” you said without looking at him. “Don’t follow me right now.”

But he did. He reached the bedroom doorway just as you stood by the dresser, breathing hard, you back to him.

He froze. “Wait… are you crying?”

You kept your back to him, whipping at your face. “Yeah, I guess congratulations are in order. You´ve never seen that before.”

The sound of your voice, quiet and shaky, seemed to break something in him. He stepped forward, but you moved away. “Hey, please look at me.”

“Don’t,” you mumbled. “Don’t act surprise and don’t come over here and act like you didn’t just dismiss everything I said.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you didn’t miss how his voice was much softer now. “I wasn’t thinking. I swear to God, I was just pissed, and I-?”

You turned around, eyes red, still whipping at them to not make him see the worst of it. “I´ve never cried in front of you before, because you never gave me a reason to. Do you know that? I´ve been upset, year, frustrated too, but this? This is new. And it is because of you. You made me feel small,” you said, still not turning around. “You made me feel like I was annoying for giving a damn about us.”

Now you turned to face him. Your eyes were red, your voice think. Williams face fell. “I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you,” he argued but you just shook your head.

“That’s the problem, William. You didn’t realize, because you haven’t been paying attention. I hate crying in front of people.” You mumbled. “I hate it and I especially hate that it is because of you.”

His shoulders dropped like he had taken a punch to the gut. “I know. I know, and I am sorry. I – shit – I wasn’t thinking. You didn’t deserve that, not even a little bit.”

You shook your head. “You don’t get it. I don’t want some grand apology. I wanted you to walk through the door and see me. To act like I´m your person and not an obligation to deal with after a long road trip.”

He stepped forward again, slower this time. “I see you now,” he uttered quietly. “And I hate that I didn’t earlier. I hate that I made you feel like this. I´ve been in my own head, stressed, tired, distracted with the season, but none of that excuses making you feel like you don’t matter to me, because you do. You matter so much to me.”

You said nothing, arms hanging limp at your sides now. Sleeves of his hoodie you were wearing wet from you whipping your tears away. “Then why does it always feel like I have to fight to matter?”

His brows furrowed. “You don’t. You shouldn’t have to, I´ve just been selfish. I get home and I shut down, and you end up carrying the weight for both of us.”

You nodded slowly. “I´m not sustainable, William. I can´t always be the one who tries.”

He looked down at the floor, then back to you. “You said it feels like you´re holding this together by yourself and I believe you. And I am sorry for making you feel alone in something that’s supposed to be both of us.”

You exhaled, finally letting your shoulders relax a little.

“I´m not asking for everything to be prefect,” you mumbled. “I just want to feel like you´re with me. Like I´m not reaching out into nothing every time I try.”

He closed the gap completely now and gently took your hand. “You´re not reaching into nothing. I´ve been here, but I know I haven’t been here. And that’s on me.”

Not knowing what to say you looked down at your joined hands. His thumb rubbed slow circles against you, calming you in a way it probably shouldn’t after what just happened.

“I hate that I made you cry,” he said, now his voice cracking just the tiniest bit. “That´s going to stick with me. I don’t want to be that guy. The one that takes you for granted. You deserve someone who shows up. Someone who listens and I want to be that person. I just… I need to do better, and I will.”

You still didn’t know what to say, but your silence was softer now. He gently pulled you into a hug, and this time you let him. You melted into his chest, and he held you like he didn’t want to let go, like he needed the contract just as much as you did.

“I´m sorry and I love you,” he whispered. “Even when I don’t act like the way I should. I love you, and I´m going to do better.” He took a short pause, taking in a deep breath, you head lifting on his chest as he did so. “You´re not dramatic, you´re just asking for the love you deserve.”

You sniffed, his words hitting you harder than you expected, because that was exactly what you wanted. “I didn’t want this to turn into a whole thing. I just wanted you to look at me like you missed me as much as I missed you.”

He kissed your temple. “I did miss you, so much, sleeping alone in hotel rooms instead of next to you is painful. I´m sorry I didn’t show it. I turned it into a fight because I couldn’t handle how right you were.”

You stood like that for a while, holding each other in the quiet of the living room. No yelling. No bitterness left. Just two people trying to meet in the middle again because at this point you believed that you could.

---------------------------

The next morning you woke up to the smell of toast. You sat up groggily, rubbing your eyes. William wasn’t in bed, but you heard quiet clattering from the kitchen.

A few minutes later, he walked in with a tray. Scrambled eggs, toast, strawberries, and a sticky note that read: I see you, and I love you and I´m sorry. In his scrambly handwriting.

You looked up at him, surprised.

“I know it´s not much,” he opened, placing the tray on the bed next to you carefully. “But I wanted to start today differently.”

You stared at the note, not really knowing what to say. A lump rose in your throat again, but this time it wasn’t painful.

He slid back into bed beside you, careful to not make the tray tip, tucking the blanket around your legs.

“I know I can´t erase last night,” he said softly. “But I want to start showing you that I´m here. That I want to be here and that I won´t let the stress of the season get in here. I want to be better, for real this time.”

You nodded, reaching for his hand. “Like I said last night, I don’t expect you to be perfect. I just want to feel like you care.”

“I do,” he immediately answered. “More than anything.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, letting out a breath. He placed a kiss to the top of your head.

This didn’t fix everything, but it was a start and you hoped the two of you could build on it.

#william nylander #toronto maple leafs #william nylander imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #william nylander x reader #nhl imagine

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catdia · 6 months ago

Text

Viktor with a Chubby S/o

(Modern AU / College AU)

You guys meet thanks to Professor Heimerdinger. Both brilliant students that were later made into TAs

He is a biomedical engineer major. You share many classes together but got official acquainted as Heimer’s personal assistants

Viktor is incredibly handsome and you fell for him right away. You love his dry humor and the way his mind works. He had been Heimerdinger’s TA a few months before you, so you sat in the classes he taught as a way to get yourself familiar with an assistants work

He teaches so good, almost at the same level as any other professor. He is witty and doesn’t hold back when he criticizes the students poor test scores

“If you actually paid attention for once you would have seen that all these problems were on the homework you were assigned over the week! Oh, but half of you didn’t do it in the first place. So I’m not surprised you failed miserably—”

Professor Heimerdinger definitely tries to set you two up from the start. He sees the chemistry every time you both are around the office working in lesson plans and discussions equations. Heimer sees how Viktor softens his gaze will looking at you. And how you get lost in Viktor’s impressive mind

“There is nothing like young love, my boy! One day you are sitting together basking in the wonders of progress, then in the blink of an eye you are hearing wedding bells—”

“I think what you’re experiencing Professor is something called schizophrenia.”

Viktor was the one that asked you out first! Then it was smooth sailing from there. Your simple coffee runs to finish up grading papers turned into you holding hands and sharing overpriced pastries

Jayce also became a very big part of your relationship, he was Viktor’s roommate in freshman year and have been inseparable since. Also a biomedical engineer student

Viktor survives most days on sweets and black coffee. So when you came around you finally made this man have a proper meal after class

“I actually have been starting to feel much better these past few weeks. I’m head doesn’t get foggy anymore.”

“That’s because I’m feeding the fuck out of you. So which one do you want? Chicken and rice or beef?”

Viktor is thin and lanky so he is the one that steals clothes in the relationship. Especially likes taking your cardigans and sweaters

Started buying bigger clothes just so you wouldn’t be felt out. Makes sure to spray his cologne on it so you can smell him all day

He has a very nice sense of style, a mix between dark academia and grunge. Likes anything to do with warm colors and cozy fabrics.

He uses a leather crossbody bag instead of a regular book bag. He thinks it makes him look cooler

Has an old wooden cane he got at an estate sale. It’s a beautiful deep shade of brown that almost looks reddish. Its handle is craved with intricate flowers and vines. Viktor has a medical grade one but hates how boring it looks

“It has character! If I have to use a cane to walk at least I can look the part while doing it.”

“And by “the part” you mean looking like a grandpa?”

You and Jayce like to play around with the cane every chance you get. From limbo to sword fighting. Once Viktor has taken a seat and looks comfortable it’s game over. You’re taking the cane until further notice. You and Jayce get into petty fights over who gets to take the cane all the time

“Jayce it’s not fair! You got to take it last time and it’s my turn!” You stood on your tippy toes as Jayce lifted the cane above his head

“Nuh huh, you lost so I get first dibs on it!”

“I’m going to shove it up your ass, Talis! Give it to me—” Jayce ran away and you followed him as he weaved across the various desks and chairs

Loves watching his two idiots fight over his walking stick knowing that it ends up with him scolding you two for playing rough

Lets you decorate it how much you want. He even gave you permission to carve your name on the bottom of the handle. You like to change it up, having little bats on Halloween and wrapping it up in Christmas lights in winter

Spends all his free time in the library. You and Jayce join him often, doing homework and studying. When it’s finals you stay until midnight in a private study room. Watching Jayce and Viktor bicker over math equations as you doze off

Speaks Russian, French and Czech! You get turned on when he switches languages when pissed

Thanks to his disability he gets a really big dorm room with a private bathroom and kitchen, almost like a full blown apartment

“I can’t believe they gave you such a nice place, Viktor! Not even my mini fridge works.”

“You should have came in a wheelchair with an oxygen tank like I did on orientation week.”

“Viktor, I’m sure what you did was illegal—”

The first time you were intimate with Viktor you were nervous! Viktor because he bagged a pretty girl and didn’t know how to handle it. And you because of the lack of intimacy you had. He is such an attentive lover! And made your first time so sweet

Even if he is all fucked up after sex he will do aftercare. Will get you water and a snack butt naked. Gives you lots of affection and kind words too

You both do laundry together on the week ends. Makes for good bonding time. After washing and drying your stuff you always go to his dorm room and put on music as you fold your clothes together

“This thing doesn’t even cover one of my ass cheeks.” You put his boxers next to your butt then threw it in Viktor’s hamper.

“Good thing that it only needs to cover the good stuff in the front.” He placed another sweater in his drawer

“You’re gross, Vik!” Viktor chuckled and looked at the pile of clothes you were folding. The slight hint of pink from the mountain of dark clothes caught his attention. He reached out and pulled a pair of lacy panties

“And who are these for?” Viktor had never seen these before and had the biggest grin on his face. Imagining you in them

“For your mom.” You shot back at him

“Mmm, she has my taste. She’ll like them.” He folded the pair in his hand and placed it inside is sweater stack

“Did you really just put my panties in your cupboard in front of my face?” You looked at him in shock. And you were flatter in a weird way.

“Yes, I made it obvious for a reason!”

He takes a plethora of pills through out the day, you’ve memorized the names of them and their effects. And even have some spare ones on you in case he forgets to take them

Definitely has tampons and pads in his book bag in case of emergencies!

There are some days where he has very bad flare ups. You stay with him in bed all day and miss class together. He loves cuddling with you, holding you from behind and having his bad leg thrown over your hip. Or him laying on your chest as you play with his hair

Likes grabbing fist fulls of your tummy when your together. It makes him feel so warm and cozy

I don’t see Viktor being an avid cannabis user, but he still has his license and buys from “independent sellers” because it’s cheaper. He uses it once in a blue moon, when the pain is unbearable. Doesn’t like smoking it in front of anyone. Not even you or Jayce

Is the type of guy that just stops and stares when you walk by him. It doesn’t matter if you’re in public or alone together he WILL stop whatever his doing and look at you

You buy him matching stuff all the time, like pencils and keychains! You got a pair of matching Dr Martens with him and funky socks for every occasion

Jayce got jealous and it ended up with you three going out to a Sanrio store and buying matching keychains for your book bags. Jayce for me screams Pompompurin and Viktor is definitely a Keroppi and My Melody stan!

Viktor has been independent with his disability since he was born. It makes him feel weird when you want to help him or even do acts of service that make his day a little less painful

He has been in relationships where his partners or even “friends” make him feel less then. They see his disability before his amazing personality and smarts

It takes time for him to get used to another person loving him and not complain about his leg being a burden. He doesn’t admit how much he likes having you help him out with simple stuff, he doesn’t care about his pride when his with you. It shows him that you accept all parts of him like he does yours

You like massaging his bad knee with his medical cream. After his showers you are already set up waiting for him on the bed

“You don’t have to do this for me, you know?”

“But I want to! And I like the smell of the cream anyways. It makes my hands soft.” You slowly worked your hands into the skin of his leg. Going over his knee surgery scar with your fingers

Viktor is the type of guy that doesn’t seem to have body insecurities but more capabilities ones. Like him doubting he could make you happy. Or if he can make you feel sexually satisfied and attached to him

Which he absolutely does because that man is a freak and knows how to work with what his mama gave him!

His beauty marks and moles are your favorite part of him. Especially the ones on his face. Before you even kiss his lips properly you have to kiss is moles first! He has many more all over his body. You know where every single one is on his skin. The one on his left side pelvis, the one behind is right ear, and the pair that cross over is bad ankle

Viktor’s favorite part of your body is your ass, then your personality (hahaha). He loves all of your equally but something about watching your ass jiggle as you walk away and how it feels so nice on his pelvis when he holds you from behind just makes him gushy

“Does this dress make me look lumpy?” You looked in the mirror as you were trying on the new dresses you ordered for the Innovators Competition coming up

“What are you talking about?” Viktor turned around in his chair, pushing his eye glasses into his hair. He was busy tweaking the final cables of his invention

“Like doesn’t my ass and pudge look out of place in this dress?” You pinched your skin as you looked at your reflection. Viktor knew you well, you were setting fire to yourself. He slowly got up and walked to your form, careful to not hurt his leg

“You look gorgeous, love. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.” He wrapped his arms around your middle, resting his chin on your shoulder as he looked at your eyes in the mirror. “The only thing out of place is that I’m not in between your legs right now.”

“Jesus, Viktor!”

Like I mentioned Viktor is a total freak! He knows how to seduce you when he wants to get down and dirty. The one that gets you the most is when he wears button down shirts and rolls in the sleeves to his forearms. Then unbuttons it until you can see the navel of his chest

“You’re getting distracted.” Viktor said

“Only because you’re making me flustered, you temptress!”

You’ve definitely have gotten freaky in Professor Heimerdinger’s lab. You sitting on the cold wooden desk top as Viktor was in between your legs. Working on pulling of your top, then undoing your bra

“V-Viktor— what if he catches us? We’ll be expelled!” He placed open mouth kisses on your exposed neck. Palms flush against the flesh of your breasts. Earning moans from your warm throat. Slowly pulling your skirt down your legs and discarding it

“He is out of office until Wednesday.” He took off your panties and placed them in his back pocket. Then slowly started taking off his belt and unzipping his pants. He pushed on your chest to make you lay flat on the desk. “Know be quite and let me make you feel good.”

He isn’t a people person, at all. So he likes to spent time alone with you the most. Watching movies, baking and building Legos together

He’s a puzzle nerd and always has one on his table that he builds here and there

You’ve tried to convince him to get a service dog, but I can totally see this man being disgusted by dogs. Doesn’t even tolerate the little ones.

“They’re so obnoxious and needy. So full of bothersome energy—”

“Whenever you talk about dogs all I hear coming from your mouth is ‘Jayce, Jayce, Jayce’!”

“Don’t you dare compare my friend to a mutt!

He is more of a cat person, or a reptile one. I believe if Viktor wasn’t an engineering major he would have chosen veterinary science

Viktor’s love languages are quality time, acts of service, and physical touch. Has to have his hands on you at all times

“Sit on my lap.”

“Viktor, if I do I’ll put you into cardiac arrest. Or hurt your leg. I don’t know which one’s worse.” You crossed your arms, watching as he pouted at you from the sofa

“I can take it! Sit on my lap, woman!” Viktor patted his lap aggressively and made grabby hands at you

“Okay, whatever you say…” You sat down on his legs, making sure that your back was supported by the armrest of the couch. You rested your head on his shoulder

“Mmmm, this is heaven—” He massaged the meat of your thighs. Nuzzling his head in your hair

“If you see a light don’t go towards it! You still own me a movie night.”

One of your favorite weekend activities is going to the park and feeding the ducks! Also going to thrift stores and farmers markets

Viktor doesn’t let you pay for anything! He says that it’s a man’s job to pay for everything and he likes spending his TA check on you

He grew up in a place where violence was in every corner, so he is very observant and protective when you are out together. Viktor has a lot of street smarts and knows when people are watching. He also has a pocket knife on him and even owns a firearm. Don’t ask him if he has a license for it because he doesn’t

Many times you’ve had witness Jayce carry Viktor up or down flights of stairs when the elevator is busted or when there’s a building evacuation. You call it his “princess time”. You walk beside them with Viktor’s cane and book bag in hand

“This is utterly embarrassing—” Viktor had his head hanging off the side of Jayce’s arm like a corpse

“I think you look dashing, Viktor!” You said playfully, kissing his lolling head

“That makes it even worse.” He grumbled on Jayce’s shoulder

“At least you’re not tumbling down the stairs, V.” Jayce chuckled

Viktor definitely plans on marrying you after college, he knew he wanted you in his life since the first month you started dating

He was the first to say “I love you”, and cried while saying it

The type of person that says they hate kids and doesn’t like them at all. But children just flock to them for some reason. Viktor is one of those people! Every time he is out and there are kids around you are in for a treat. Babies just stare at him and give him the cutest gummy smiles. Reaching their chubby hands towards him. Little kids always come up and ask him questions about his cane. He is so dry but so kind to the little ones that it literally makes your heart melt

“Are you a pirate, mister?!”

“No sadly. I’m a college student. Boring I know.”

You love doing self care nights with him. Putting your new face masks and hair care products to the test on Viktor

Viktor growing his hair out was the biggest blessing you could ever ask for! He lets you style his hair all the time in braids, ponytails and even lets you curl it. Having a half up half down hairdo looks killer on him

You definitely joke about him being a “chubby chaser”. He didn’t know what it meant until you told him and he just smiled and said:

“Well, what are bones good for if they don’t have meat on them.”

He’s your sassy skeleton man and you love it

#arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane x reader #chubby reader #viktor x reader #viktor league of legends #viktor arcane #viktor nation #viktor x you #viktor machine herald #plus size reader #fat reader

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incorrectfatui · 4 months ago

Text

some Fatui headcanons before we resume the quotes (some funny, some sad, some just random idk) these are all over the place but oh well Pierro: Really liked talking to Signora about magic. They both use very different kinds, but they still have similar understandings, and no one else really wants to hear him ramble

Capitano: Oblivious to romantic relationships. Thinks everyone is just really good friends.

Dottore: Got so seasick on the way to inazuma and back, that he genuinely considered never visiting again. Spent like 5 months trying to research medication against motion sickness and ended up poisoning himself. Intentionally makes mathematical mistakes in his budget reports, just to annoy Pantalone.

Columbina: can't swim.

Arlecchino: Says "I don't have a favourite child", but definitely has a favourite child. Tried making Dad jokes once and failed miserably, mostly because she didn't understand the joke herself. Sometimes forgets that most the Harbingers are immortal, so she'll have situations where she mentions researching some long dead person, only for one of the others to go "oh i knew that dude personally". Somewhat salty that she isn't hundreds of years old.

Crucabena: Her birthday is on christmas. She doesn't know what christmas is, so it doesn't matter, but she just gives off the vibe of being born in winter and I think it'd be funny. Wrote letters trying to get Neuvilette to implement the death penalty monthly, but never received a reply. Has, one more than one occasion, used Hydro not to fight, but to drown people, because she liked watching them struggle.

Clervie: her and Peruere once illegally operated an Aquabus while on a mission. Peruere may have used it to commit vehicular manslaughter. Also she made mother's day presents every year, despite them being thrown away. Tried to teach herself elemental magic, but couldn't figure it out without a teacher. Once overheard Crucabena praying to the Cryo Archon. briefly had hope that she changed for the better, only to hear "Thank you your Majesty for giving me the ability to give people hypothermia".

Lyney: Genuinely thought Arlecchino was a guy for like 3 months after being adopted. Also sometimes forgets that Freminet isn't his biological brother.

Lynette: More cat-like than Lyney. Has caught birds and eaten them raw before, but doesn't do it anymore, even though Arlecchino approves.

Freminet: More powerful than Lyney and Lynette, even if it doesn't seem like it. Doesn't have all that much control over his cryo vision yet, so he mostly uses it as a support for his claymore, instead of the other way around.

Pulcinella: Has a lot of fun calling everyone a child, even if he isn't older than them. Dottore? Unruly teenager. Scaramouche or Sandrone? Practically a toddler. Arlecchino and Childe? Babies. Only ones he doesn't do this to is Columbina and Pierro. Columbina because he's scared, Pierro because of respect.

Scaramouche: One of the only people who actually understands how Ei's Realm of Euthmiya works. Has tried to explain it to several people, including Pierro and Dottore, but get's frustrated every time because they don't understand it exactly. So overcharged with electro energy, that touching him may give you a small shockl (yes, even after Sumeru). Is actually not completely sure how his body actually works, and neither is Nahida. Dottore has a pretty level of knowlegde (although he still gets a lot of surprises), but the only one who actually understands his body completely is Ei.

Sandrone: Tried to become active in Fontainian politics at some point. Promptly fell asleep in the courtroom because she spent several all-nighters trying to complete a project of hers. Complicated feelings about Scaramouche, ranging from "I want to dissect him" to "no one understands this guy more than me, ignore the fact that we talk like once every 5 years"

Signora: Even with the cryo delusion, her body temperature runs really, really hot. Is basically a walking heater- Columbina likes using her as a portable source of warmth. Also, her blood being liquid fire is not an exaggeration- got wounded in the palace one time, only to burn down half a library.

Pantalone: Once suggested suing Raiden Ei for child support. It did not work.

Childe: Completely unaware that Arlecchino isn't the first Knave. Thinks she's immortal too. Also only figured out that Dottore has clones after about a year of being a Harbinger.

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gaywineauntsstuff · 2 months ago

Note

saw someone said dick should apologize to jason in the comics for having putting him in arkham

i am sorry i think the f*ck not 😭 like i love jason as much as the next guy dmw but come on guys

“Jason was in Arkham”

“Dick wanted to put Tim in Arkham”

I sincerely apologize to my whump friends but I fear yall don’t know Jason Todd’s game

First let’s not talk about the fact the only person Dick put in Arkham who was miserable was himself. We aren’t gonna talk about it. Or the Arkham reform thing he was doing a the time or the other 600 things that were going on

Hell I won’t even talk about what Jason did in blackgate (WHWRE HE WAS INITIALLY) b4 he killed a hundred people to end up in Arkham we don’t need to talk about it

I won’t talk about the menace that is the hottest version of red head Jason Todd okay we have, as a society moved past that.

But genuinely for a second can you imagine that conversation

Dick guilt ridden: Jason, I- I owe and apology

Jason cleaning his crowbar: ….

Dick: I never should’ve put you in Arkham I’m so sorry being near the joker-

Jason: was literally part of the whole plan? Why the hell do you think I TRIED to get into it

Dick: exactly! I shouldn’t have indulged your worst impulses, fuck I should’ve brought you home or kept you with a league member

Jason: I would’ve killed Tim and kidnapped Damian to use as a barter tool with Ra’s Al Ghul. You know this. I need you to tell me that you know this

Dick: fuck Jay you were nineteen! That’s basically a fucking child

Jason: I’m so sorry weren’t you ENGAGED TO BE MARRIED AT 19? Didn’t you run the league for a couple months at 18? Do you think you could do more than I could at 19 dickface.

Dick: No Jason you don’t understand-

Jason: oh perfect Grayson just because I chose to become a crime lord and YOU decided to do the cringe fail hero gig. Which was really. Cringe and fail since it’s so obvious you either wanted to be dead or a supervillain

Dick: wha-that’s not true!

Jason: sure sure go say hi to Donna Troy’s grave for me

Dick:…..

Jason: ANYWAY just because I spent my teenage years outside of spandex building a criminal empire DOESNT MAKE IT LESS IMPRESSIVE THAN YOUR STUPID TITANS GROUP R I C H A R D

Dick quietly: I’mstillsorry

Jason: well im not sorry for the fact i strung you and damain up nude to reveal your identities, im also not sorry for stealing your suit and killing people in it, while we’re on that topic im also not sorry for STEALING BRUCES SUIT, im not sorry for beating tim up that shit was funny as fuck and I’m also not sorry for laughing when bludhaven blew up.

Dick: ….

Jason: so shut your fucking ass up talking about ‘oh I’m so sorry Jason’ like we didn’t spend the past decade trying to ruin each others lives

Dick: I NEVER TRIED TO RUIN YOUR LIFE

Jason: MY LIFES DREAM WAS MURDER ERGO YOU NOT LETTING ME DO THAT RUINED IT.

Jason: we WERE assholes to each other past tense and I will 100% be taking advantage of your raging guilt complex to pretend those things are equivalent to each other and now that we are all happy family bygones will be bygones whatever I can fully abuse you to get out of league level shit.

Jason: anyway what are you gonna do next? apologize to Tim for Red Robin

Dick guiltily: he’s the next stop

Jason: omg your actually doing an apology tour

Dick: I FEEL BAD OKAY

Jason: dude you know what I’ll indulge you, go try and apologize to Tim but when he LAUGHS you out of the room for being a fucking dumbass I’ll be there with popcorn

Dick grumbling: Steph accepted my apology to HER

Jason: yeah because everyone in this family was a dick to Steph and she deserved better.

Dick: yeah she was a phenomenal batgirl i wish we worked together more now that she’s spoiler

Jason: did she really hit Tim in the face with a brick

Dick: yep

#dick grayson #nightwing #batman #jason todd #batfam #tim drake #BRUCE WAYNE apologize to Jason Todd sure #I am all in support of Bruce awkwardly apologizing for the way he handled Jay #but be so fr Jay Jay was a menace #he’d be so offended if we were turning him into a cringe fail whumpy meow meow #I mean he’s not Tim?#let Jason Todd stay cool 2k25 #DICK GRAYSON NEEDS TO APOLOGIZE TO DUKE THOMAS AND THATS IT #EVEN HIM ANS STEPH HASHED SHIT OUT WHEN HE WAS BATMAN #stop making bad blood #fucking use Helena or Duke or something #the gaggle of robin themed children have issues around birdy one but it’s really not what you think #I love bullying Tim in the tags #but canon Tim is my son #very normal he loops back around to supremely abnormal #as opposed to his big brother who is so weird he loops around to normal upstanding citizen #and Jason

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reds-references · 5 months ago

Text

Welcome to my corner of chaotic whimsy!

I'm Red or formally known as, Justine...

I am a multi-media artist. I am my own photographer, editor and model, I am an illustrator (HUMAN ARTIST, NOT AI) and seamstress. I am a crafty/fitness YouTuber, an OnlyFans model and a boxing instructor/fitness coach. I do hope you enjoy your stay in my wee corner of chaos and please feel free to use any and ALL of my reference photos for your artistic needs! Also do say hi!! I try my best to answer every message and comment! I just appreciate you being here so gosh darned much.

FAQ

ONLYFANS: I know, when you hear "OnlyFans" your mind goes to some pretty wild places. I am a non-spicy model, which means I censor everything as tastefully as possible! You can think of me as a whimsical lingerie model! I started my OF as a way to raise funds for my FREE boxing gym for underprivileged children and to provide artists with cheap art packs.

YOUTUBE: I started my YouTube channel as a way for me to express myself even further with my art. My OF photoshoots aren't always the artistic sets I would like them to be and I stopped drawing years ago (attached are a few of my illustrations, including the cover to my web comic "The Nun's Mistake" and the cover for Colm McGuinness' album "The Colm Before The Storm" on Spotify) so I figured I would try and make photography my new medium for "paintings". Even with that in mind, I still wanted to be crafty and what with my day job in concrete/construction, I don't get a lot of free time to myself. Hence, YOUTUBE! YouTube has given me the chance to make content that I can be free to have fun with and Patreon is helping me to continue pursuing that dream!

MY ART: I spent 10+ years working as a freelance artist between my other jobs. My art never sold, I barely got a single commission and people always tried getting things for free. Safe to say my art failed miserably and I gave up on it for a few years. My OF and ESPECIALLY YouTube are helping me find that spark again! (P.S art commissions are not open, I see where your sweet little brain was going!)

BOXING: I have been a trainer/professional boxer for over 8 years now. I trained with world champions and fought on a professional level and found a love for teaching along the way. I got tired of how expensive boxing classes are, seeing as there are so few "trainers" who actually know what they're doing and aren't just MMA people pretending to know what Boxing is. SO, I and the other trainers decided to dedicate our lives to opening a completely FREE boxing gym for underprivileged children. We have put every penny we earn into this gym. Everything I make in my day jobs and OF helps to fund the gym, while the Patreon helps me to fund my dream of quitting my back breaking job in concrete and work full-time as a YouTuber/Creator.

WHAT ARE YOU: I am a cisgendered woman. I got my dad's tits and his jaw, I know, I appear more masculine than femme. I also work out a lot, hence the muscles.

WHAT ARE YOU ON: Bro, if I was on roids, THERE WOULD BE SIGNS. I am a SMOL, natty Muscle Mommy!

Thank you for taking the energy and time out of your own life to show me kindness, love and support. Thank you for being here.

TAGS to use: #DrawRedInYourStyle #RedsReferences

#art reference #cosplay #cottagecore #lgbtq #classical art #art resources #artwork #photography #drawing reference #drawing #myreferences #redsreferences #drawredinyourstyle

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ballsandbabes · 1 month ago

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GOM + Kagami: S/o wants to learn basketball

Summary: Basically cute chaos on the court <3

Authors Note: Not proofread// Gifs are not mine// y/n= your name

Genre: Fluff, Chaos and lots of teasing

Aomine Daiki

It all started as a joke.

“I could totally learn basketball,” you said one afternoon while watching a game with Aomine.

He smirked, tossing popcorn into his mouth. “You? On the court?”

You gave him a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” he said lazily. “Just... you trip over air.”

You threw a pillow at him. “Shut up!”

But the next afternoon, you showed up at the local court in sneakers, shorts, and a determined scowl. “Teach me,” you said, spinning a ball on your finger—and failing, miserably. It fell and bounced away like a taunt.

Aomine blinked. Then grinned. “You serious?”

“Dead serious.”, you said. He stretched, standing up with a yawn. “Alright. But don’t cry when I school you.”

“Just try not to cry when I actually score on you.”

That earned you a deep chuckle. “Sure, princess.”

—

It started off innocent. Dribbling drills. Footwork. You tripped once—okay, twice—but you got better. His hands brushed yours when correcting your grip. His voice dipped low whenever he leaned in to explain something. “Keep your knees loose,” he said, coming up behind you. His hands lightly guided your stance. “Like this. You’re too stiff.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re too smug.”

“That’s ‘cause I’m right.”

You shot. It hit the rim and bounced off.

“Close,” he said, catching it with one hand. “But not good enough.”

You glared at him. “Again.”

This time, when you shot, he stepped in and blocked it. You gasped. “You jerk!” He grinned. “What? You said you wanted to learn. That includes rejection.”

You chased him around the court, smacking his arm while he laughed like a kid at recess. “You’re the worst teacher ever!”

“Nah,” he said, easily holding the ball above your head. “Best teacher. Just a realistic one.” Then—without warning—he leaned in.

Not quite a kiss. Just close enough for you to feel his breath on your cheek. “You’re cute when you’re trying,” he murmured, voice dropping to that smooth, teasing tone that made your knees a little less loose.

You swallowed. “Is this part of the lesson?”

“Depends,” he said, spinning the ball once before flicking it toward the basket. Swish. “You learn better when you’re flustered?”

You tried to hit him again, laughing this time. “I hate you.”

“Nah,” he said, that familiar smirk back on his lips as he tossed you the ball. “You just hate that I’m good at everything.”

You held the ball, heart still racing. “Bet you can’t teach me how to beat you.”

Aomine’s eyes sparkled. “Oh yeah?”

“One-on-one. Tomorrow. No mercy.”

He leaned in again, this time brushing a kiss to your temple before whispering, “Looking forward to it.”

Kise Ryouta

You barely finished the sentence before Ryouta lit up like a golden retriever being offered his favourite treat.

"You want me to teach you basketball?!" he gasped, hands clutching his chest like you'd just proposed marriage. “____-cchi! I'm honored!” You laughed, slipping on your sneakers as he bounced around the court like a kid on caffeine. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

He pouted. “This is serious! You’re willingly entering my domain! That’s romantic!”

“It’s not romantic.”

“Yes it is.” His eyes sparkled. “It’s a total romcom set-up. Beautiful girl gets private lessons from the handsome ace player, sparks fly, they fall in love—” You raised a brow. “We already are dating.”

“Exactly,” he said, grinning. “We’re halfway through the movie. This is the training montage part!” You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. “Alright, coach. Impress me.”

He cleared his throat, switching to Serious Athlete Mode™. “First—dribbling. You’ve gotta stay low and keep control.”

He demonstrated, of course with unnecessary flair—one-handed, then behind the back, then spinning it casually on a finger while winking at you. You deadpan stared. “Yeah, that’s definitely beginner level.”

Ryouta laughed, then came closer, gently placing the ball in your hands. “Okay, okay. For real this time. Just bounce it low, like this.” He guided your hands, standing behind you, practically melting against your back with his arms around yours. He smelled like cologne and sunshine.

“You’re very close,” you said.

“Just helping,” he said, voice low and way too pleased with himself. “It’s called hands-on learning.” You elbowed him gently. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“I’m the luckiest,” he replied, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before stepping back. “Okay, now try shooting!” You took the shot—it missed entirely. Clunked off the side of the rim and bounced off the court.

Ryouta blinked, then started clapping dramatically. “We have liftoff!”

“Don’t mock me!”

“I’m not! I’m encouraging you, ____-cchi!” he said, wiping a fake tear from his eye. “So proud of your journey.”

You grabbed another ball and threw it at him. He dodged with a laugh, arms wide.

"Hey, hey! Violence won’t help your form!"

“You won’t help your face if you keep teasing me.”

Ryouta jogged over, took your hand, and looked at you like you were the most precious thing on the court. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll be serious now. I just—” he shrugged sheepishly, “—I really love being out here with you.”

You blinked. Your heart did that stupid flutter thing.

“…I’m bad at this,” you muttered.

“You’re learning. And honestly…” He spun the ball on his finger and grinned, “you look adorable doing it.” You groaned. “That’s not helping.”

“It’s helping me,” he said, wrapping his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Can we do this every weekend?”

You smiled, leaning back against him.

“Only if you stop acting like this is an anime opening.”

He gasped. “How dare—! This is an anime opening. And I’m the handsome male lead who falls hopelessly in love with the cute girl who can’t dribble!”

“Okay, that’s it. I’m switching sports.”

Ryouta grinned and kissed your cheek again. “Fine, but I’m following you to whatever sport you pick. Deal?”

“…Deal.”

Kuroko Tetsuya

You should’ve known Kuroko would take this seriously.When you casually mentioned, “Hey, I think I wanna learn basketball,” he blinked at you once, nodded… and showed up the next day with a handwritten workout schedule, color-coded tabs, and personalized notes.

“Tetsuya,” you blinked at the binder he handed you. “This is... more organized than my entire life.”

“I want you to improve efficiently,” he said simply, like it was obvious. “Also, I included water breaks.”

You flipped through it, a mix of touched and slightly overwhelmed. There were even little encouragements in the margins: “Keep your knees bent, not your spirit!” “You’re doing better than yesterday.” “Don’t forget to stretch your smile, too.”

You glanced at him. “Did you write motivational quotes for me?”

He looked away, ever so slightly pink. “I thought they might help.” You smiled so hard it hurt.

—

The court was mostly empty that afternoon, with just the two of you and the echo of bouncing balls. Kuroko started you off with basics—dribbling drills, some footwork, and soft passes that somehow always landed exactly where you could catch them. He wasn’t loud. He wasn’t flashy. But he was incredibly good at guiding you. Every correction was gentle, every compliment honest and understated.

“You’re improving,” he said as you finally managed to dribble down the court without fumbling. “Your hands are learning.”

“My hands are dumb,” you muttered, wiping your forehead.

He handed you a water bottle without missing a beat. “They’re not dumb. They’re just inexperienced. Like your jokes.”

You stared. “Did you just sass me?” He blinked innocently. “No.”

“…You totally did.”

The corners of his lips tugged up ever so slightly. His version of a full-on laugh. You stuck your tongue out at him before returning to the drills. Later, when you missed a shot for the sixth time in a row, you groaned dramatically and collapsed onto the court. “I am a disgrace to the sport,” you moaned.

“You are not,” he said, stepping beside you and offering his hand. “You just need more practice. And maybe to lift the ball with your arms, not your hopes.”

You gasped. “Okay, that was sass.” He tilted his head. “Constructive sass.”

You let him pull you to your feet, still laughing, your fingers slipping against his for a moment longer than necessary. “Thanks for taking the time to do this,” you said quietly. “Even if I suck.”

He looked at you with that steady, unshakable gaze of his. “You don’t suck. And even if you did, I’d still enjoy this.”

“…Why?”

“Because you’re you,” he said, so simply that your heart actually stumbled in your chest.

You bit your lip, stepping a little closer. “Well, since you’ve been such a good coach today…” He raised an eyebrow, curious. You leaned up and brushed a soft kiss to his cheek. Kuroko blinked. Then stood still for a full two seconds, processing.

“…Thank you,” he said finally, a faint red dusting his ears. “I’d like to receive more rewards like this in future sessions.” You grinned. “Only if you keep the motivational quotes coming.”

He nodded seriously. “I’ll prepare a new batch for next time.”

You laughed, tucking yourself under his arm as he handed you your water bottle again, the sun beginning to dip behind the court. Private lessons with Kuroko might not be flashy. But they were perfectly you.

Taiga Kagami

It all started when you wandered into the gym after his evening practice, sneakers in hand and a hopeful look on your face.

"Hey, Kagami," you called. He turned from the hoop, sweat dampening his tank top and forehead, ball tucked under one arm. “Yo. What’s up?”

You grinned. “I wanna learn basketball. Teach me?” He blinked. “You? You wanna play basketball?”

“Why does everyone say that?” you groaned. Kagami rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly flustered. “No! I didn’t mean it like that! I just—uh, I mean—yeah! I can teach you! Totally.” You snorted. “That was the smoothest sentence I’ve ever heard.”

“Shut up and stretch before you pull something.”

—

You expected drills. What you didn’t expect was for Kagami to go full-on coach mode — minus the yelling.

“Okay, first—stance. Feet shoulder-width apart.”

You mimicked him, a little stiff. “No, no—looser.” He stepped behind you, hesitated, then placed his hands on your hips to gently adjust your stance. “Like this.” You froze. His hands were big. Warm. Very there.

“Better,” he muttered, stepping back quickly, ears glowing red. You turned your head and smirked. “Aw, Taiga, are you blushing?”

“I’m not—”

“You totally are.”

“Shut up and dribble!”

—

You were bad at it. Like… really bad. But Kagami was weirdly patient, correcting your hand placement, gently swatting the ball back when it rolled away, and smiling whenever you managed even a half-decent move. “You’re seriously trying,” he said, slightly breathless as he jogged to retrieve a wild shot of yours.

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

“I’m not,” he said, tossing the ball back with a grin. “It’s just… kinda cute.”

You blinked. “What is?” He shrugged. “You. Out here. Trying. Messing up. Getting mad. Sticking your tongue out when you concentrate.”

You flushed, throwing the ball at his chest—he caught it effortlessly.

“You’re such a dork.”

“Says the one who just missed five layups in a row.”

“I swear to God—” He laughed. “Kidding! You’re improving. Seriously.” You watched him smile at you like it meant something. Like you meant something. And that’s when you realized—you kind of loved this version of Kagami. Slightly awkward, but warm. Goofy, but gentle. A little clumsy with words, but so good with his actions. You stepped closer, reaching for the ball he held. Instead, you tiptoed up and kissed him on the cheek. He went still, eyes wide like you’d just dunked on him mid-game.

“That’s for being a good teacher,” you said casually, snatching the ball from his frozen hands. He touched his cheek like it was the first time anyone had ever kissed him there.

“…I think I need more private lessons,” he muttered, blinking in disbelief. You grinned. “We’ll see. Only if you don’t make me run suicides next time.”

“No promises,” he said, finally smiling again. “But I might go easier on you if I get another reward like that.” You turned away to hide your blush. “Shut up and stretch, Kagami.” He chuckled, jogging after you. And somehow, that late-night gym session felt more like a win than any buzzer-beater ever could.

Akashi Seijuro

The Akashi family ball was everything you expected it to be: glamorous, gilded, and intimidatingly formal. But you weren’t nervous — not with Seijuro at your side, hand resting lightly at the small of your back, his presence a steady, unshakeable calm. He guided you through introductions, dances, and whispered compliments like a man perfectly in control. Until you leaned up during a slow waltz and murmured in his ear: “You know… I still want that basketball lesson you promised me.”

He blinked, just once. Then he smiled — slow, knowing, a little amused. “Now?” You gave him your best innocent look. “Why not?”

His eyes flicked to the side — toward the Akashi estate’s private indoor court. Empty. Polished. Lit by soft overhead lights. You’d passed it on the way in, and now the idea of you both playing there, dressed to the nines, was suddenly deliciously ridiculous.

“You’re serious,” he said softly.

“Only if you are.”

His gaze dropped briefly — from your perfectly styled hair, to your elegant dress, to your heels — then back up, eyes gleaming with something equal parts fondness and challenge. “Very well,” he said, offering his hand once more. “Let’s make this evening more… memorable.”

—

You kicked off your heels at the edge of the court, the cool wood under your bare feet. Your dress swished around your legs as you tried to dribble the ball he handed you. Tried. It bounced off your foot with a loud thunk and rolled away. Akashi caught it with one hand.

You sighed. “I’m hopeless.” He smiled — warm, amused. “Hardly. You’re just distracted by the setting.”

You tilted your head. “And you’re not?”

“I have excellent focus,” he replied, stepping closer. “Even when someone as beautiful as you is breaking dress code and attempting a crossover in a ball gown.”

You poked his chest. “That sounded like a flirt and a scolding.”

“Why not both?”

He gently guided your hands to the proper position. His fingers lingered longer than necessary. “Bend your knees slightly,” he said, his breath warm against your temple. “Control the ball — don’t let it control you.”

“You say that like it’s easy.”

“It is, with the right teacher.” You looked up. He was very close. “You always get this smug when coaching?” He tilted his head, eyes gleaming. “Only when the student looks this enchanting under gym lights.” Your heartbeat kicked up.

“Seijuro…”

“Yes?”

You shot the ball just to break the tension. It missed. Badly. He caught it again, tucking it under one arm. “I think,” he said, stepping even closer until his chest was brushing yours, “this lesson may need… additional incentive.”

“Oh?” you breathed, suddenly hyper-aware of how your dress clung to you. “Like what?” He leaned down slowly, eyes locked to yours. “A reward for progress.”

Then his lips brushed yours — soft, deliberate, slow. You melted into him, arms wrapping around his neck as the ball dropped and bounced away. He caught your waist like he never wanted to let go. When you finally pulled back, breathless, you laughed. “I think I’ll be requesting private lessons more often.”

Akashi smirked, brushing your hair from your face with court-level precision. “Then I’ll make sure every lesson ends in victory… for both of us.”

Murasakibara Atsushi

"Ne~, ___-chin… you're serious?" Atsushi blinked slowly at you from his place on the gym floor, lying flat on his back like a bored cat in the sun. An open bag of strawberry Pocky rested on his chest, one stick hanging out of his mouth. You nodded firmly, bouncing a basketball between your hands. “I want to learn. You’re the best player I know.”

He sighed dramatically, like you’d asked him to run a marathon in the rain. “But it’s sooo annoying to teach stuff... and my arms feel sleepy.”

You walked up and squatted beside him, poking his cheek. “You can dunk without trying and block shots like you're swatting flies. If anyone can make me look good on the court, it's you.” He squinted one eye open at you, then closed it again. “Mmm... flattery’s kinda working.”

You smiled. “I'll give you snacks after.” That did it. He sat up immediately, looming over you with his ridiculous height, the Pocky still dangling from his lips.

“…Fine. But only if you’re fun to coach, okay?”

You stood up, grinning. “Deal.”

—

Lesson One: Dribbling: It went as expected. “Your hands are too stiff,” he mumbled, chewing lazily on another Pocky as he watched you fumble the ball. “You look like you're swatting a bug.”

You glared. “You could actually help instead of commentating like a snacking grandma.”

“Mmm… maybe.” He lumbered over and reached down to gently adjust your grip. His fingers dwarfed yours — warm, slow, surprisingly careful. “Like this,” he said, pressing your hands into the right position. “Let the ball bounce, not your brain.”

You snorted. “What kind of advice is that?” He shrugged. “It made sense in my head.”

—

Lesson Two: Shooting: It involved him standing behind you and lifting your elbows gently like you were a human crane game. You shifted awkwardly. “Atsushi, you’re way too close.”

“Makes it easier to help,” he mumbled, head resting against yours as he leaned down. “Plus, you smell good.” Your face lit up like a traffic light. “You’re not supposed to say that in the middle of a lesson!”

He smirked lazily. “You said this was a private lesson.” You groaned, threw the ball up — and to your shock, it actually went in.Murasakibara blinked. “Whoa. You made it.”

“Did you just sound proud of me?”

“No. I just didn’t think you’d get that lucky.” He smirked. “Maybe I am a good teacher.” You turned and flicked him in the forehead. He pouted.

After a few more shots (some airballs, some miracle baskets), you collapsed onto the floor beside him, both of you sweaty, tired, and smiling. “That was fun,” you said, grabbing your water bottle. “Thanks for actually getting up and moving.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, lying back down. “You did good for someone tiny.” You leaned over him, grinning. “Was that… praise from Murasakibara Atsushi?” He stretched lazily, arms above his head. “Maybe. But don’t let it go to your head.”

You reached out and pecked him on the cheek, soft and quick. He paused. Then turned his head to look at you, violet eyes blinking slowly.

“…Can I get that again?”

“Only if you keep teaching me,” you said playfully. He cracked a sleepy smile. “Okay, but next time… we bring snacks first.” You laughed, curling up beside him on the gym floor, where the basketball still slowly rolled to a stop. With Atsushi, everything might move a little slower… but it was always worth the wait.

Shintaro Midorima

You should’ve expected it. You told Midorima you wanted to learn basketball — expecting maybe a casual one-on-one in the gym. Instead, you walked into the court to find a whiteboard. A clipboard. A perfectly stacked pile of printed drills. And a USB loaded with video analysis. "Shin-chan…" you blinked, stunned. "Are we training for the NBA?"

Midorima pushed up his glasses, entirely unfazed. "If we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly." You approached the whiteboard, noticing hand-drawn diagrams of shooting form, angles, and—was that trigonometry?

“Did you seriously do math for me?”

"It’s geometry,” he corrected. “And yes. It improves arc precision.”

You stared. He didn’t blink. This man.

—

At first, the structure helped. Dribbling drills. Shooting angles. Footwork. But an hour in, your brain was fried and your hands ached. You missed a simple layup for the third time, the ball rolling away with a sad bounce.

“I hate this,” you groaned, collapsing to the court. Midorima adjusted his glasses again, checking the clipboard. “Your form collapsed because you didn’t pivot properly on your left foot. We can isolate that and run it again.” You flopped dramatically. “You know what I’d like to isolate? Your clipboard. Into a trash can.” He opened his mouth to reply, but you cut him off by sitting up, crawling toward him on your knees with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Maybe I just need... a different kind of motivation.” His brows furrowed. “What are you talking about—?”

You leaned up slowly and tugged his tie — because yes, Midorima Shintarō came to a basketball lesson in a button-down and tie — and smirked.

“I think you’re taking this a little too seriously, Sensei.” Midorima froze, ears turning pink. “I-It’s important to—t-to have structure in training!”

“And what if I do better with... hands-on instruction?”

You leaned closer, just enough for him to register how close your lips were, how your breath fanned against his skin.

“…You’re misusing the concept of kinesthetic learning,” he muttered stiffly, though his voice was suddenly rougher, his hand twitching slightly at his side. You tilted your head, fingers still playing with the knot of his tie. “So teach me your way. But if I make the next shot... you owe me something.”

He blinked. “Like what?” You grinned. “A kiss.” His face turned a brilliant shade of red.

“I—! That’s—! Completely unnecessary!”

You stepped back, grabbed the ball, and with mock ceremony, squared up like he taught you. He watched, arms crossed tightly, lips pressed into a line. You shot. It hit the rim… and went in with a clean swish. You turned around slowly, arms lifted in silent celebration. “I believe you owe me, Midorima.”

He looked like he wanted the earth to open and swallow him whole. But after a second… he walked toward you. Every step was measured, tense. And then, in the most Midorima-like act of romance ever, he placed his hands gently on your shoulders, leaned down, and kissed you — carefully, almost scientifically — but when your hand slid up to cup his jaw, something changed. His posture eased. His grip tightened. His kiss deepened.

His clipboard clattered to the ground. You pulled away, breathless and smiling. “Still think it’s unnecessary?”

He cleared his throat, glasses askew, voice low. “...I may need to revise my reward system.”

You laughed and grabbed the ball again, tossing it lazily toward the hoop. “Better start preparing your incentives, then.” As it bounced off the rim this time, Midorima caught it one-handed and looked at you — and for once, there was a smirk behind that serious face.

“…You’ll miss on purpose next time, won’t you?”

“Maybe,” you teased. “But I think you’d like that.”

He didn’t deny it.

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thecuriousbeauty · 3 days ago

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Different Frequencies- Part III (Harry Styles!Au x autistic!reader)

Series Synopsis- College heartthrob and football captain Harry Styles needs extra credit to survive the year. His only shot? Mentoring Y/N, a brilliant but blunt autistic student who couldn’t care less about his charm. What starts as an obligation soon sparks something neither of them expected.

A/N:- Most awaited Part 3! Please like and reblog if you like it, and here's the link to Part 1 and Part 2 if you haven't checked those out yet. Now gear up for lots of soft fluff!

Warnings: Talks of abuse, mild violence.

Word count: 6,043

_________________________________

The soft buzz of chatter and the clink of dice filled the air, mingling with the scent of melted cheese, warm chocolate, and too many fizzy drinks. The Game Den, a cozy corner café was a haven for people who liked their socializing with a side of strategy and snacks.

y/n was in her element.

Curled into the corner booth, she arranged her game tokens with careful precision, sleeves tugged halfway over her palms. Her eyes scanned the board like it was a puzzle only she could decode, and she looked completely at peace doing it. The golden glow from the overhead fairy lights caught the curve of her smile as Zayn cracked open another can of soda beside her.

Harry, on the other hand, looked like he’d wandered into a high-level math exam by accident.

“Okay, so, if I land here,” he said, pointing to a space marked with a tiny wizard hat and a skull, “do I fight the goblin, or summon a storm?”

y/n tried to hold back a laugh and failed. “No! That’s the negotiation tile.”

“The what now?”

Zayn grinned, sliding a card toward him. “You barter with the next player. If they roll a five or higher, they get your amulet. If you roll a six, you steal their spellbook.”

Harry blinked. “This is illegal. I’m reporting both of you.”

“We didn’t do anything wrong.,” y/n said, wondering what made him say that. Then it slowly clicks. “Wait..that was a joke, right?”

“Yes, Cherry, it was a joke.”, Harry grins, poking her nose and her cheeks tint a little red.

“You already signed the wizard code, by the way.”

“I what?”

She giggled, and the sound, soft, sudden, real, hit Harry like warm sunlight through stained glass. He didn’t care that he was losing miserably. He didn’t care that he had absolutely no clue what the rules were. She was laughing, and for the first time in days, she looked light again. Not floating, but steady. Present.

They played for two hours, switching games mid-way and half-finishing a plate of curly fries while Zayn waged war against the soda machine and Harry tried to convince Y/N that his strategy of “vibes only” would eventually pay off.

It didn’t.

When their energy mellowed and their fingers were sticky from too much candy, they found themselves in the quiet back booth, arms brushing now and then as they leaned in over the table.

“Leah told me everything’s fine,” Y/N said softly, her voice different now, flattened, quiet. Her eyes didn’t lift from her drink.

Zayn, halfway through a caramel pretzel, froze.

“She actually said that?” he asked, wiping his fingers on a napkin.

Y/N nodded. “She said he didn’t mean it. That he just gets angry sometimes. That he loves her.”

Harry’s stomach twisted. He pushed his fries away, appetite gone. “That’s bullshit.”

“Harry,” Zayn warned gently, but the sharpness in Harry’s eyes didn’t fade.

“No, I mean it. Darren’s a dick. I’ve seen the way he talks to people. He’s a walking red flag. The guy’s had three warnings already this semester from Coach.”

“Yeah, but warnings about his attitude in practice,” Zayn pointed out. “That’s not the same as this.”

“He’s dangerous,” Harry muttered. “All I need is something solid to get him off the team. Just one reason.”

y/n looked down at her hands, quiet. “But Leah doesn’t want to report anything. She says it’s her choice.”

“It is,” Zayn said gently. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t do something.”

“I can talk to Darren, it’s probably end in a fight but if I can get him to-”

“-No, no fights.”, y/n cuts Harry off and Harry nods, pressing his lips together. “Then you just have to get through to Leah..any other ideas?”

“We could keep an eye out for any other abusive instances.”, Zayn says.

The evening began to wind down as other patrons started clearing their tables, folding boards, and placing cards back into boxes with reluctant goodbyes. Someone flicked the lights above the café door, a subtle nudge that it was almost closing time.

y/n stretched her arms over her head with a small yawn, the kind she tried to hide behind her sleeve.

Harry smiled at the sight.

“You okay?” he asked, sliding the empty fry basket to the side.

She nodded. “Tired, but… yeah. This was good.”

Zayn stood, brushing crumbs from his hoodie. “We should do it again. Maybe next week?”

y/n turned to Harry, uncertain. “Would you… come again?”

He raised his eyebrows, mock serious. “Even after getting destroyed by the ‘Wizard’s Union of Honor and Card-Stealing’? I’d be honored.”

She laughed again, softer now. Her shoulders didn’t look so tense anymore.

As they walked out into the cool evening, the sidewalk quiet under their feet, Zayn had parked the car somewhere at the back, he ran off saying he’d go get it and pull up. That left just Y/N and Harry.

They stood near the curb for a beat, neither quite ready to say goodbye.

“So,” Harry said, rocking back on his heels a little. “We’ve officially eaten our weight in carbs and lost all sense of board game logic. Want to take it to the next level?”

Y/N blinked at him, confused again.

He grinned. “Come to my game. Day after, evening. Home match. You don’t have to stay long if it’s too much, but..I'd really like it if you were there.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “You want me to come watch you play?”

“I do,” he said, more gently this time. “It’s loud, yeah. But I can save you a seat. Somewhere quieter. You’d be safe. I’ll make sure of it.”

She hesitated, not out of fear, but out of surprise.

Then, after a second, she gave a tiny nod. “Okay. I’ll try.”

His smile broke slowly across his face, wider than he intended, and warmer than he could hide.

“Good,” he said. “It’s a date.”

She looked up sharply, eyes wide again.

He backpedaled instantly. “I mean, not a date date. Unless you want it to be? Or we could pretend I didn’t say that. Up to you.”

Y/N bit her lip, hiding another smile. “Okay.”

“Okay, okay or okay to ignore it?”

She turned and started walking toward the dorms, her voice drifting behind her like a ribbon. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Styles.”

Harry stood there a second longer, watching her disappear down the sidewalk, heart doing something stupid in his chest.

Then he exhaled, shoved his hands in his pockets, and grinned at the empty street.

_____________________________________________

The squeak of sneakers and the sharp echo of bouncing balls filled the gym. Whistles blew. Sweat dripped. The energy was off.

And Harry felt it crawling under his skin.

Darren was playing like the court belonged to him. Hogging the ball, ignoring plays, showboating with unnecessary spins, and shooting from angles that made zero sense.

“Pass it, Darren!” Harry barked as he ran for an opening.

Darren ignored him and launched a wild three-pointer that hit the rim and bounced hard off the backboard.

Missed. Again.

“That fucking shithead.”, Nate groaned, the rest of the players murmuring curses as well.

Coach blew the whistle. Hard.

“Enough!” he snapped. “We play as a team or we don’t play at all.”

Harry clenched his jaw. His fists were already twitching. Not just because of the selfish play, but because every time he looked at Darren, all he could hear was y/n’s voice from last night.

He didn’t mean it. He loves her…

Bullshit.

“Get it together,” Coach growled, throwing Darren a sharp look. “One more screw-up and you’re benched for game day.”

Darren muttered something under his breath and jogged to the bench, sulking like a child.

“Harry?” Harry realizes Nate was talking to him and unclenches his fists, slowly moving his gaze away from Darren. “I was saying how coach himself will throw him out soon if he keeps this up.”

“I hope he does.”, Harry mumbles. The only reason why Darren was still in the team was because he is a good player. Doesn’t miss the basket often. Only if he gets in his head too much.

Practice ended ten minutes early. Coach stormed off and the players scattered.

“Not coming mate?”, Nate asks him as Harry head’s towards the locker room. “I’ll catch up, you get going.”

Harry stayed back, and so did Darren.

The locker room was nearly empty when Harry finally walked in, towel over his neck, sweat still cooling on his back.

Darren was at his locker, shirtless, humming like nothing happened. Harry didn’t wait.

He slammed his locker shut with a loud bang that echoed through the room.

Darren didn’t flinch. Just smirked over his shoulder. “Problem, Captain?”

Harry stepped in close, voice low but sharp. “You’re done. One more stunt, one more attitude, and I’m taking it to Coach. All of it.”

Darren raised an eyebrow. “What’s all of it, huh?”

Harry stared him down. “You and Leah. I know.”

Darren scoffed. “You know nothing.”

“I know enough.”

There was a moment of silence, heavy and charged. Then Darren turned around fully, tossing a shirt over his shoulder as he sneered.

“Oh, wait. This is about that little weirdo you’ve been babysitting, isn’t it?”

Harry’s jaw tensed.

Darren leaned in mockingly. “She got you wrapped around her quiet little fingers? I saw her, all twitchy and awkward. Speaks so damn slow and looks like she’s in play school still. Heard she’s quite stupid and hopeless. Freaks like that are easy to-”

Crack.

The punch came before Harry could think. It landed hard, knuckles against jaw, skin against bone.

Darren staggered back, hitting the locker door behind him.

“Say her name again,” Harry snarled, his voice shaking with fury. “Go ahead. I dare you.”

Darren wiped blood from the corner of his lip, staring up at him. His cocky grin was gone now. “You just screwed yourself.”

Harry didn’t back down. “No. You did. And if I hear anything about you putting your hands on Leah again, or so much as breathing in y/n’s direction, I will make it my entire mission to make sure you lose everything. Team, scholarship, reputation, everything.”

Darren glared, chest heaving.

Harry turned and walked out before he could throw another punch. His heart was still pounding, but not from adrenaline.

It was rage.

____________________________________________

A half-empty coffee cup sat forgotten beside Harry’s open textbook, and he hadn’t turned a page in fifteen minutes.

y/n noticed.

She sat across from him, legs tucked under the chair, her pencil tapping lightly against the edge of her notes. She tilted her head slightly, studying him, noticing the way he kept drumming his fingers on the table, how his eyes kept flicking to the window like something outside was pulling at him.

“You’re not reading,” she said quietly, touching the tip of the pencil to his nose.

Harry blinked, startled out of his thoughts. “Huh?”

“You’ve looked at the same sentence four times.”

He dropped his gaze and gave a sheepish shrug. “Yeah. Sorry. Just… got a lot on my mind.”

She hesitated, chewing the inside of her cheek. “Is something wrong?”

He looked up at her then, her eyes soft and searching, and immediately felt bad for not being fully there.

“No. Nothing’s wrong. I think I’m just… nervous. Big game tonight.”

Y/N nodded slowly, accepting the explanation, though she didn’t entirely buy it. Still, she didn’t push.

Instead, she smiled a little. “I’ve never been to a basketball game before.”

That caught his attention.

His lips quirked into a grin. “Seriously?”

She shook her head. “Not even one. I don’t know the rules. Or… where to look.”

Harry leaned back in his chair, suddenly amused and more relaxed than he’d been all morning. “Alright, well… it’s not rocket science.”

“Zayn has said that to me before. He said the same for social cues, and it’s not true.,” she rambled.

He laughed and the tension in his shoulders finally began to ease.

“Fair point,” he said, grinning. “Okay, let’s do a crash course.”

He pulled his notebook toward him and drew a rough outline of a court. “This is the hoop. You want the ball to go in the hoop. Not rocket science. We’ve got five players on each team. Two guards, two forwards, and a center.”

“You?”

“Me? I’m point guard. I run the plays. Set up passes. Kind of like the guy with the map.”

“So you’re the map guy.”

“Exactly. Except if the map guy is also yelling and sweating and trying not to get elbowed in the ribs.”

She leaned forward, chin resting on her hand. “Is it dangerous?”

“Nah, I’ll stay safe.”, he smiles, leaning towards her too.

“I’ll be honest,” she said, voice softer now, “I’m a little scared. The noise. The crowd.”

“I get that,” he said gently. “I’ll save you a seat near the front, by the benches. It’s not as loud there. Less people. Coach will be cool with it.”

Her eyes flicked up to his, grateful.

“I’ll be okay,” she said, more to herself than him.

“I’ll make sure of it,” he promised, without hesitation. He reached out to gently tuck away a strand of her hair that came out of her side braid, behind her ear. y/n just smiled but her heart beat just a little faster at his soft gesture.

“Green.”, she whispered, her focus shifting.

“What’s that, Cherry?”, Harry watches as her eyes focus on his, which rarely happens.

“Your eyes, green like the forest. There’s gold too, like..like sunlight and the left one has more brown around the iris.”

Her brain panicked a little, maybe she made things weird and said too much. She quickly looked down. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, I think about yours too.”, Harry mumbled and his gentle, warm fingers grab her chin and tilt it up so she looks at him again. “They’re soft. Quiet, but not dull. Like they’re always thinking ten layers deeper than what you say out loud. You know, even if it’s for a few seconds, I love it when you give me your eyes, Cherry.”

She took a few seconds to process what he meant and when she did, she felt warmth unfurl in her chest. And she was still maintaining her eye contact with him, his green eyes staying still too.

She realized that she was starting to trust him. With her words, and with her eyes.

______________________________

y/n stood in front of her bedroom mirror, staring at herself like she wasn’t quite sure who she was tonight.

It was just a basketball game.

Except it wasn’t.

It was his game. And she was going for him.

She tugged at the sleeves of her soft navy sweater and smoothed her jeans, mentally checking the list of things she needed. Fidget cube. Water bottle. Small weighted lap pad folded into her tote bag, just in case. She didn’t know what the bleachers would feel like. Or how loud it might be. But she was going. Because he asked.

A quiet knock came at her door, and then her mom peeked in. “You look great, honey.”

y/n turned, suddenly self-conscious. “It’s not… too much?”

Her mom smiled. “It’s just right. He’s going to love seeing you there.”

She blushed. “It’s not..it’s not a date.”

Her mom raised an eyebrow. “Mm-hmm.”

Before she could protest, a honk sounded from outside.

“Zayn,” she muttered.

Her mom pulled her into a hug before she left. “Be safe. Text me when you get there. And after. And if you need to come home early—”

“I know,” y/n said softly. “I’ve got it.”

And strangely… she really felt like she did.

Zayn had music playing low, one hand on the wheel and a smug grin on his face.

“So,” he said, after five whole minutes of silence, “are you gonna tell me what you’re wearing under that sweater, or do I have to assume it’s ‘I heart Harry’ merch?”

She groaned. “Zayn—”

“I mean, I get it,” he teased. “Hot basketball guy? You? Mentorship turned romance? It’s giving a YA novel realness.”

She turned her face toward the window, biting back a reluctant smile. “It’s not a date.”

He snorted. “He invited you to his game, is sitting you front row, probably gonna win MVP while looking at you dramatically mid-free throw… Yeah, alright. Not a date.”

She sighed, cheeks hot. “You’re annoying.”

“Extremely. Also, if he so much as breathes wrong near you, I’m throwing hands. Don’t care how pretty he is.”

y/n laughed quietly, and Zayn’s smile softened at the sound.

“You okay, though?” he asked more gently. “We don’t have to stay the whole time.”

“I think I’m okay,” she said. “I want to try.”

And she did.

The moment they walked into the gym, the shift hit her like a wave. Lights. Noise. Movement. A dull roar of voices. The smell of popcorn and sweat and the sharp echo of basketballs bouncing.

y/n’s fingers found her tote bag instinctively, grounding herself.

And then she saw him.

Harry.

He was already walking toward them, towel slung around his neck, jersey half untucked, curls wild and damp with pre-game sweat. The second his eyes landed on her, his face changed, lit up in a way she’d never quite seen before.

“You made it,” he said, a little breathless. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she managed, voice soft.

Zayn gave Harry a look, protective and unreadable. Harry gave him a polite nod, then turned his full attention back to Y/N.

“I saved you a seat,” he said, gesturing toward the far side, near the team bench. “It’s quieter over there. You’re not too close to the student section.”

As they walked, he pulled something from behind his back. “Also… got these for you.”

Noise cancelling headphones. And it was a baby pink shade.

“I figured it might get loud,” he said, trying to sound casual, but his voice held a nervous edge. “And uh, I also brought those chewy mints you like. For, you know. Sensory stuff. Read that it helps.”

She stared at him.

“I just wanted to make it easier,” he said, quieter now.

For a long second, she didn’t speak. Just stood there, heart doing strange and sudden things.No one had ever done that for her before. She didn’t know what to say, so she just gave a tiny nod and mouthed, thank you.

His smile returned, softer, just for her.

“I have to go warm up,” he said reluctantly, already backing away. “But I’ll see you after, yeah?”

“Okay,” she whispered.

He turned, jogged a few steps, then looked back, just once. Like he had to make sure she was still there.

_______________________________________

Harry reached the bench, jaw tight again.

Because he felt it.

Eyes.

Darren.

Sitting just across the court, lacing his sneakers with a slow, mocking smirk on his face. He was watching Harry, like he knew something.

Like he was waiting.

Harry’s fists clenched.

He didn’t care if he threw another punch tonight. Didn’t care if it cost him the game. The season.

But if Darren so much as looked at y/n the wrong way-

He’d bury him.

He scanned the crowd one more time, just to be sure. And there she was, settling into her seat beside Zayn. But something else made his stomach twist.

Leah.

Sitting only a few seats down from Y/N, alone.

Too close.

Harry tore his eyes away and jogged back toward the huddle, trying to shake it off.

Focus. Play. Win.

And after that?

He’d deal with Darren. One way or another.

The gym was electric.

Music pumped through the speakers. Students screamed in waves. Sneakers squeaked across the polished floor. The scoreboard buzzed as the numbers climbed. Harry’s team was holding the lead, but barely.

Y/N sat near the bench with Zayn beside her, hands pressed against the warm cup of cocoa he’d insisted on getting her from the vending machine outside. Her headphones dulled the roar of the crowd to something distant, like waves crashing behind thick glass. She breathed easier because of it.

But she was still watching him.

Harry.

Number 7.

He moved across the court like he belonged to it. Fast, sharp, focused. But every few minutes, after a pass, a rebound, or a timeout, his eyes found her again. Quick glances. Like silent check-ins. She didn’t know how he always knew where she was, but he did.

“Damn,” a girl a few rows behind her giggled to her friend, loud enough to hear through one ear cup. “Is it just me or is Harry Styles actually looking over here?”

y/n smiled faintly.

He was.

But not at them.

She didn’t need to turn around to feel their curious stares. She just lowered her eyes to the cocoa again, her fingers curling a little tighter around the cup.

She didn’t need to say anything.

She knew.

The buzzer rang and players jogged off the court toward the locker rooms. The gym roared around them, full of cheers and music, and Zayn got up to stretch.

“I’ll grab you a protein bar,” he said, heading toward concessions.

y/n gave a small nod.

She didn’t notice Leah until she was already beside her.

“Hey.”

The voice made her turn, and the tone made her stomach twist.

Leah looked pale, too thin, her hands shaking slightly as she folded her arms over her chest. Her makeup was smudged in the corner of one eye. She didn’t look like someone enjoying a basketball game.

She looked like someone trying not to fall apart.

y/n sat up straighter. “Leah… are you—”

“You need to stop,” Leah cut in quickly, eyes darting around. “This thing you’re doing. Trying to tell people something’s wrong.”

y/n froze.

“He didn’t do anything,” Leah said, too fast, too rehearsed. “We’re good. We’ve worked things out. You misunderstood.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You did,” Leah insisted, voice a little louder now. “Just… drop it, okay? I know you think you’re helping, but you’re not. You’re making it worse.”

And there it was.

y/n could see it. In Leah’s trembling hands. The way her eyes never met hers. The small flinch when a loud whistle echoed across the gym.

He’d threatened her.

y/n’s heart ached.

“Did Darren tell you to say that?” she asked quietly.

Leah blinked hard, jaw tightening. “Just leave us alone. Please.”

And before Y/N could say anything, she was gone. She was distracted for the rest of the game, repeatedly running the conversation with Leah in her head, her body cues, her tone, everything.

The buzzer blared, the crowd roared, and just like that it was over.

Victory.

Harry’s team had won.

Confetti cannons went off somewhere near the student section (probably Niall’s idea), and people were flooding the court before the players could even make it to the benches. Teammates clapped Harry on the back, ruffled his hair, shouted his name like he was royalty.

But all he was looking for… was her.

And there she was, still in the same seat, standing up now, hands clasped in front of her, headphones pulled off, eyes wide.

He pushed through the crowd to reach her, breath still heavy from the last quarter.

“You saw that?” he asked, grinning like a kid. “You watched the whole thing?”

y/n smiled, a little softer than before as she gives him a victory pat on the shoulder. “You were incredible.”

His heart swelled.

But before he could say anything else, Niall threw an arm around his neck, dragging him backward.

“C’mon, Styles! Team photo! You can flirt later!”

Harry groaned but let himself be pulled back, looking over his shoulder. “Don’t leave! I’ll be right back!”

She nodded.

But she didn’t say anything.

___________________________________

y/n turned to sit again but before she could reach the bench, a voice cut through the noise behind her.

“Didn’t think you’d actually come.”

She froze.

Darren.

He stepped beside her, too close, his breath hot with sweat and something sour. His smile was twisted like it always was when no one was watching.

“You’ve got a real hero complex, huh?” he said, voice low so no one else could hear. “Trying to fix things that aren’t yours?”

“I’m not trying to-”

“You are,” he snapped, eyes narrowing. “And you need to stop. Leah’s fine. We’re fine. Whatever Harry thinks he knows, he doesn’t. And if you don’t want things getting messy for you, you’ll keep it that way.”

Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

He leaned in, voice a whisper of venom. “I’ll say this one last time. Drop it.”

Then, just like that, he slipped back into the crowd, smiling, laughing, blending in like he hadn’t just poisoned the air around her.

_____________________________

Harry was finally free from the circle of teammates and photos and coach talk. He ran back to the bench, looking for her and found her standing quietly, arms wrapped around herself, her eyes distant.

“Hey,” he said, gently touching her arm. “You okay?”

She blinked, like coming out of a trance. “Yeah. Just tired. I think… I want to go home.”

His smile faltered. “Right. Yeah, of course. Do you want me to drop you or-?”

“Zayn said he’d drive,” she interrupted quickly, her voice light but hollow.

Harry frowned, searching her face. “You sure you’re alright?”

“I am,” she said. Too fast.

He didn’t believe her. But he could already see Coach waving him over, teammates calling his name again.

“I’ll text you later?” he offered, reluctantly stepping back.

She nodded, forcing a smile. “Good game, Harry.”

He watched her walk away with a strange ache in his chest.

Something was wrong.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

__________________________________________

y/n sat curled into the far end of Zayn’s couch, legs folded under her, hands wrapped around a mug she hadn’t sipped from in an hour. Her eyes were on the rug, distant. It was the next day, and her radio silence with both the boys had made them curious, or rather concerned.

Zayn paced.

Harry sat in the corner armchair, elbows on knees, bouncing one leg restlessly. He’d come over as soon as she stopped responding to his texts, because something was wrong, and he couldn’t stand not knowing.

“I just don’t get it,” Zayn muttered, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not saying anything. Either of you.”

“Because we’re trying not to overwhelm her,” Harry said, a little sharper than he meant to.

y/n didn’t react.

Harry turned to her again, more gentle now. “y/n… did Darren do something to you? At the game?”

She blinked. Slowly.

Zayn looked between them, brow furrowed. “Wait, why Darren? What does he have to do with anything?”

Harry’s mouth opened, then shut. He exhaled through his nose.

Zayn stared at him. “Harry.”

“...After practice the other day,” Harry started, reluctantly. “He said something. About her. About y/n. It was disgusting. I hit him.”

Zayn stared. “You what?”

“I didn’t tell you because—” Harry glanced at Y/N. “I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. I thought I could handle it. And I thought maybe he wouldn’t try anything.”

Zayn’s jaw locked. “He talked about her how, exactly?”

Harry looked away. “You don’t want to know.”

“No, see-I do want to know,” Zayn snapped. “Because I let her go to that game, Harry. I left her there while you were taking photos and Darren was, what? Circling her like a fucking vulture?”

“Nothing happened,” Harry said quickly. “I swear.”

“But he could have! You knew he had a problem with her and you still—”

“Stop.”

Both boys froze.

Y/N’s voice wasn’t loud. But it cut straight through them like a knife.

She looked up slowly, eyes clearer now, voice shaking but steady.

“Just stop.”

Zayn swallowed, guilt pooling in his throat. “y/n-”

“You’re both talking about me like I’m not sitting right here,” she said. “Like I’m not the one who got threatened. Twice.”

Harry went quiet. So did Zayn.

She put the mug down. Stood up.

“I know he’s dangerous. I know Leah’s scared. I know none of this is easy. But I’m not made of glass, okay?”

Harry stepped toward her, careful. “We’re not trying to treat you like-”

“Then don’t,” she said. “Don’t yell at each other and keep secrets and make decisions without me. I’m tired of everyone trying to protect me by excluding me.”

They both looked gutted.

Zayn cleared his throat. “Okay. You’re right.”

Harry nodded. “You are.”

y/n’s voice was quieter now, but still firm. “What we need to do now is stop panicking and think. Because Darren isn’t going to stop. And if Leah won’t speak up… then we have to figure out what comes next.”

Harry looked at her with something close to awe.

She wasn’t shaking anymore.

She was steady.The living room had shifted.

No more pacing. No more arguing. Just three people sitting on the floor, a half-empty snack bowl between them, and tension humming like static in the air.

Zayn had a pen in hand, tapping it against his knee. Harry was cross-legged, frowning at nothing. y/n sat between them, blanket draped around her shoulders, focused in a way they hadn’t seen since before the game.

“She won’t say anything,” y/n said, breaking the silence. “Not unless she feels safe.”

Zayn nodded. “Then we make her feel safe. Pull her aside at school.”

Harry shook his head. “That won’t work. He watches her. All the time. He’s like... attached.”

“Then what?” Zayn muttered. “We can’t go to the dean with nothing but vibes and bruises we haven’t seen.”

Y/N was quiet for a second. Then: “What if we don’t ask her to come forward?”

They both looked at her.

Harry’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she said slowly, “what if we find a way to prove it without needing her to speak first? Something he’s already done. Or is going to do.”

Zayn leaned forward. “Like… catching him in the act?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Not baiting him. That’s dangerous. But maybe… maybe we just need Leah to know she has a way out.”

There was a pause.

Then Harry’s voice came low.

“What if we talk to someone she trusts?”

“Does she even have anyone else?” Zayn asked. “She’s always with him.”

“Maybe we’ve just never seen her alone long enough to know.”

y/n looked down at the blanket around her, then back up.

“I can try,” she said. “I know how to be quiet. Invisible, even. That’s what people expect from me. But I see things. If I can find her… just her…”

Harry leaned closer. “You’d do that?”

“I have to.”

Zayn exhaled sharply. “Alright. We try to reach her. We give her a safe out.”

Harry added, “And if she still doesn’t talk, we make sure Darren doesn’t have anywhere left to hide.”

y/n looked between them.

“Then we need a plan.”

Zayn grabbed a notebook, flipping to a blank page, pen at the ready. “Okay. Let’s start with where she goes when she’s not with him—”

Harry’s phone buzzed just then. A text.

He glanced down and tilted his head in thought as he read the message.

y/n saw it immediately. “What?”

Harry didn’t answer at first. He read it again, then looked up, slowly.

“Coach,” he said. “He just texted to ask if I knew where Darren was. Said he never showed up to review.”

Zayn frowned. “Weird. Wait..Leah didn’t show up for the morning class. I heard her friend say that they hadn’t seen her after the game.”

“And you’re telling this now.”, Harry groaned.

“It was the first class Styles, I was barely awake! And I was busy thinking about what can happen to my grade if I skip my next class because you two losers called an emergency meeting-”

y/n’s fingers tightened in her sleeves.

“Both of them?” she whispered. “Gone?”

Harry nodded. “Looks like no one’s seen either of them since the game.”

The silence in the room turned cold.

y/n swallowed hard. “Then we’re already out of time.”

_____________________________________

Harry jogged down the front steps of the Fine Arts building, phone to his ear. “Nothing. Checked the studio wing, the greenroom, even the vending machines. No Leah. No Darren.”

Zayn’s voice crackled from the other end. “Try the back exit near the theater. I’m heading toward the library now.”

“You sure this isn’t just some Romeo and Juliet ‘run off together’ kind of thing?”

Zayn sighed. “Leah didn’t even look at Darren after the game. She looked… terrified.”

Harry muttered, “Yeah, well, if this is Romeo and Juliet, I hope we skip the dagger-to-the-heart ending.”

He hung up and turned, nearly crashing into y/n.

“Whoa,” he said, grabbing her arms, steadying himself and her. “Didn’t see you there, Cherry.”

She rolled her eyes, and Harry moved his hand to grasp hers, looking into her eyes. “Hey, I want to apologize for not telling you about the locker room incident. I just didn’t want to overwhelm you. But I shouldn’t have kept it from you, I understand it now.”

She nodded, weirdly comforted by his hand in hers. “Okay. Now search.”

Harry smiled, letting her hand go with a kiss on the back of her hand, making her blush furiously. He kept looking at her, so she said, “Not for me, Harry, for Leah.”

“Right. Sorry, Cherry, you’re distracting.”

Zayn joined them a few minutes later, slightly breathless from running. “Nothing at the library. But guess what? One of the assistants said Leah didn’t return her books this morning.”

“She always does that. Like… clockwork.”, Harry said.

“So either she’s sick,” Zayn offered, “or she’s being held hostage in Darren’s basement while he reads her feminist theory books out loud in a threatening tone.”

y/n looked at him. “You’re not helping.”

“Dark humor is a coping mechanism,” he said, hands up. “I’m fragile.”

Harry laughed softly, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Why do I feel like I’m in a true crime documentary and you’re the sidekick who gets us all killed?”

“I might die first,” Zayn agreed solemnly. “But I die hot and beloved.”

y/n looked at both of them and groaned. Why did she have friends like them?

__________________________________________________

“I don’t like this,” Harry murmured, frowning as he slowed. “Something feels… off.”

They were heading down the sloped walkway behind the old Science building, a quieter part of campus students usually avoided unless they had class or were hiding something. Cracked concrete, empty bike racks, the back door of the greenhouse padlocked shut.

Zayn glanced around. “Creepy. This is definitely where I’d lure someone if I were a serial killer.”

“Stop saying stuff like that, Zayn.” y/n muttered, walking slower now.

Harry stopped.

“Wait.”

He crouched near the base of the wall, beside a utility shed.

“What is it?” Zayn asked, stepping closer.

Harry held up a phone.

A pink case.

Cracked screen.

y/ns heart dropped. “That’s Leah’s.”

Zayn reached for it but Harry was already staring down at the screen.

A message was still open.

One that hadn't been sent.

“Please don’t tell them. I’m fine. Just needed space. Don’t—”

Harry read it aloud, then stood slowly.

“She didn’t get to send it.”

Zayn was quiet for a beat. “This wasn’t just her skipping class.”

Harry looked around again, closer this time. His eyes caught something on the side of the shed.

A mark. Red chalk?

A crude arrow. Pointing toward the woods behind the fencing.

y/n followed his line of sight.

Her stomach twisted.

“Guys,” she whispered. “Darren wants us to follow.”

Zayn squinted. “That’s weirdly theatrical, even for him.”

“No,” Harry said, voice low. “It’s a setup.”

And just then-

A buzz.

Harry’s phone.

One message.

Unknown number.

“So predictable. Come find her.”

--------------------------------------

Please let me know if there are any changes to be made to the tag list.Taglist: -@livypops12352568 @harrydeary, @harryswifee, @harrysbxtchh, @gracelovesethan, @kiwitsayedsugar, @angeldavis777,@madstyles3204, @youngpastafanmug, @fruity-harry, @wannaliveinparadise@hermionelove@mayalove014 @vikiii07@ell0ra-br3kk3r @thelooneytoon @charlesleclercwifey, @stylesftcher @mads3502 @somewiseguy @huhidontknowstuff @sincerely-yours-marsbar @p3ach-m1lk

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lcvclywon · 1 year ago

Text

touch

back to masterlist

synopsis ᯓ ᡣ after finding yourself buried with stress one night over exams, you eventually break down. thankfully Riki is always there to catch you

now playing > •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10 touch - CAS

warnings ˎˊ˗ crying, mentions of anxiety, mentions of not eating, kissing, skinship, pet names, reader overworking themselves, not proof read

genre ⭑.ᐟfluff

pairings: non-idol bf!riki x female reader

wc ᵎᵎ 0.8k

thoughts frm yuya 💭 this is super bad and super rushed and super self indulgent lol ! i've got finals currently so this idea popped into my head >< sorry if it's bad kbgdkjgb

1:50 AM

It was well past midnight and you were still hunched over your laptop endlessly working on practice questions and practice papers. The lines of exhaustion and determination blurred together leading you to continue working on your papers out of sheer anxiety that you would fail your exam.

You knew you were prepared, you studied countless hours, did hundreds of practice papers, and knew the textbook through and through; but a small voice in your head kept incessantly haunting you, plaguing your mind with anxious thoughts and worries. You had to do well. If you didn’t do well then none of this would be worth it. All the hours of studying, the nights of revision, the tears shed, none of it.

Looking down you realised your paper had been stained with teardrops, the pressure had gotten so suffocating that you couldn’t even realise that your thoughts were being verbalised as panting sobs. You wanted to stop, you wanted to tell yourself to snap out of it and finish studying, but you couldn’t. The tears just kept coming, like you had no control over your body.

“YN? Are you okay?” looking up to see Riki’s head peering through the door he held slightly ajar, your bloodshot eyes met his own. Seeing how defeated and miserable you looked he rushed over instantly, kneeling down to be on eye level with you and interlacing your fingers with his.

“Hey hey hey, what’s wrong? It’s so late why are you still studying baby?”

You tried to pry your hands out of his grasp to wipe your tears away, but his strength overpowered your attempts. “Oh Riki I’m sorry did I wake you? It’s nothing really I just-”

“YN, please don’t say it’s nothing it’s obviously something if you’re crying this much over it,” gently grabbing your shoulders he slowly lifted you up to stand, eyes never leaving your own, “is it the exam?”

With that all the walls you had up before crumbled in an instant, running into his embrace you sobbed into his chest. Cries muffled and his shirt drenched in tears you could only mumble out “What if I don’t do well?”

“YN what are you talking about, you’ve been studying non-stop,” his hands gently ran over your hair, lulling you into a relaxed state, “you’re pushing yourself over the edge here, you know all the material, it’s no use worrying over it hm?”

“But what if I forget something in the exam?”

“YN listen to me” he slowly pried himself from the embrace to cup your tear-stained cheeks, tilting your head upwards to face him, “You’re going to do fine baby, but if you don’t get enough sleep or rest that won’t do you any good will it? Have you even had anything to eat?”

Sheepishly you nodded your head while your eyes lay fixed on the floor, too embarrassed to meet his intense gaze, “I had some coffee earlier…”

“Aish that’s not enough is it? You need food for your brain to function, come on let’s go eat something…” his arm wrapped around your wrist in an attempt to lead you out of the room, but you stood there frozen.

“Can we just,” you let out in a hushed mumble, “can you just hug me for a bit, it felt nice…”

Wordlessly he pulled your body into his: chin resting on the top of your head, fingers raking gently through your hair just as he did moments ago, whispering sweet comforting words in hopes to calm you down.

Riki knew how much you stressed over exams, this wasn’t the first time he witnessed you breaking down over one. And he always knew the exact thing to say every single time you did. His gentle words and comforting touch always managed to calm down your nerves, this time was no exception.

Slowly pulling away you looked up to meet his face adorned with a warm smile, his eyes however still had a glint of concern in them.

“Feel better now baby?” he reached over to wipe off remnants of tears dripping down your cheeks

“Yeah…thank you riks.” your words were laced with so much love it took everything in Riki for him not to melt on the spot.

“Of course my YN. Let’s go eat now alright, and no more studying after okay? You need to sleep my love.” you nodded in understanding and slowly followed him out of the room like a lost puppy. After a quick warm meal, Riki helped you wash up before tucking you into bed (as well as himself).

His arms engulfed you in a soothing embrace and your limbs tangled together as you let his gentle reassurances wash away any worries you had about your exam. Slowly drifting off into sleep, you managed to whisper out a small “I love you” not caring if he could hear it.

It seems he did as he responded with a quick “I’ll always love you more.” and with that you both allowed yourself to fall into a deep slumber.

perm taglist (send an ask to be added!) @floweryang @cupidhoons @dimplewonie @msauthor @cholexc

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gunnerfc · 1 year ago

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Whatever it Takes | Alexia Putellas x Barça!Reader

Summary: Alexia is head-over-heals for you but won’t confess those feelings to you. Knowing about her crush on you, you take matters into your own hands.

Warnings: none that I know of!

WC: 1.6K

AN 1: I didn’t specify what national team R plays for, but it's not Spain since I mentioned playing against Alexia!

AN 2: all translations are from google, Apologies if they are not 100% accurate!

AN 3: to the anon that requested this, I hope you enjoy despite it taking a while!

Alexia has always been in awe of you, who wouldn’t be? You were one of the best in the world and Alexia was no different from all the fans who loved to watch you play. Every time your national teams met, Alexia was always focused on you. Even though you were competing against each other, Alexia couldn’t help but be fascinated by you.

The other Spanish players always gave their captain a hard time whenever you were set to play against each other. Most of the jokes came from Mapi, Patri, and Pina but Alexia always tried to ignore their jokes. She tried her hardest to convince them and herself that she was simply impressed by your skills as a footballer. None of her teammates believed her when she said that and she didn’t believe herself either.

But for the most part, Alexia could put those thoughts of you out of her mind since you didn’t play in the same league and international breaks weren’t always happening. She didn’t have a reason to have her thoughts solely on you.

Until you signed for Barcelona right before the World Cup.

Signing for Barça was one of the best things you could have done for your career. It opened the door to play for one of the best teams in the world and consistently get minutes that helped at the national level. However, signing with Barcelona meant Alexia got to see you way more often than she could handle.

Being this close to you, seeing you every day at training or on off days when you both hung out with some of the other girls meant the admiration the midfielder had for you grew into something more. Alexia tried her hardest to keep those growing feelings to herself to avoid more teasing, but she failed miserably.

The teasing she would receive during international breaks seemed to increase drastically when Patri and Pina discovered the captain’s crush on one of their new signings. The captain could deal with the teasing, as long as you didn’t find out about her crush. However, Alexia was unaware you were one of the first on the team to realize her feelings.

You felt drawn to Alexia the moment you joined the team for your first training session. You obviously knew who she was, everyone knew who Alexia Putellas was. But you didn’t know her as a person but the moment you locked eyes with her, you wanted to get to know her. You made an effort to introduce yourself to your teammates, wanting to make the best first impression you could but speaking to Alexia made you nervous. Unbeknown to you, Alexia felt just as nervous.

While Alexia was trying to keep her feelings at bay, you let yours blossom into a full blown crush. This obviously meant you also got teased by some of the new friends you had made, but you didn’t particularly care.

You could feel Alexia’s nervousness and how tense she was whenever she was around you. You knew that if anything was going to happen between the two of you, you were going to have to make the first move.

You started doing little things to show Alexia you felt the same but Alexia didn’t want to get her hopes up and chalked everything up to you being friendly. After openly flirting with the midfielder didn’t work, you decided to take things up a notch.

So here you were, mid-practice trying to get Alexia to realize you felt the same. Jona had called for a break so everyone could get some water and as you made your way toward the staff, Alexia held a water bottle for you to take once you got close enough.

“gracias, bebita,” you cooed as you passed her, giving her a quick kiss on her cheek. With your back to her, you missed the bright blush that coated her face.

You could hear Mapi and Pina snickering behind you but you chose to ignore them. Giving Alexia a small kiss in front of everyone was a bold step but since it seemed like the blonde was not going to do anything about her feelings, bold steps needed to be taken.

Practice on the training grounds continued a bit longer before Jona decided to end training in favor of going over the next opponent Barça would be facing. You and your teammates made your way toward the film room, taking your time to cool off from the intense training you just finished.

You made sure to enter the room right behind Alexia so you could the seat next to her before anyone else could. You were still mid conversation with Aitana when you sat down, completely missing Alexia’s eyes widening at how close you were. Aitana ended the conversation as she found her seat next to Keira.

When you turned to face Alexia, she had her focus locked on the blank screen at the front of the room, trying her hardest to not make eye contact with you.

“¿Estás bien, Ale? (you okay, Ale)” you whispered so only the blonde would hear you, placing your hand on her thigh as you spoke.

Alexia’s gaze landed on your hand faster than you thought possible, her eyes burning into the back of your hand. The midfielder swallowed before giving you a hurried nod, not trusting her voice to answer you verbally.

You tried to hide your smirk from her, enjoying how affected she was by you yet not doing a thing about it. “Solo quería estar segura, (just wanted to be sure)” you mumbled, giving her thigh a quick pat before pulling your hand away. Your hand left a burning sensation on Alexia's skin that drove her crazy the entire meeting.

During the meeting, you could feel the blonde’s eyes on you every so often, but every time you turned your head to meet her stare, she jerked her head forward. Each time you held back a small laugh at her actions, though you were starting to wonder if she would ever tell you how she felt about you.

Jona finished the meeting and dismissed everyone to go home for the day and your teammates started filtering out of the room. As you stood, you stretched your limbs trying to stall to give Alexia the chance to talk to you.

“Y/n, espera un minuto, por favor (y/n, wait a minute, please),” you heard the blonde mutter from behind you. You quickly waved goodbye to Aitana and Keira before giving your full attention to Alexia. As the remaining players left the room, Patri and Pina made fake kissing noises but were stopped with one look from Irene.

“¿Qué pasa, bebita (what’s up, baby)?” You teased, sending the blonde a bright smile.

This time, you saw the red tint grace Alexia’s features. She avoided your eyes as the silence grew around you. As the seconds ticked by, your hope that she was going to confess started slipping away.

“Me gustas mucho, (I like you a lot)” the blonde mumbled, her eyes focused on her hands that were fidgeting in her lap.

You bit back a big girn, opting to tease her to get more out of her. “Eso espero, somos compañeros de equipo. (I hope so, we are teammates)” you joked, earning an eye roll from your captain.

“No quiero decir.. Me gustas más que amigas, (No, I mean.. I like you more than friends)” Alexia said as she finally looked at you. You could see the nervousness in her eyes. Alexia is someone who tends to keep to herself so this was a big step for her.

You sat back in the seat you were in during the meeting, grabbing Alexia’s hands from her lap to hold on to them tightly.

“Lo sé Ale. Estaba esperando que me lo dijeras tú mismo, (I know, Ale. I was waiting for you to tell me yourself)” You smiled, Alexia’s eyes growing large as you spoke.

“¿Supieras? (you knew?)” the blonde asked, the surprise lacing her voice.

You laughed lightly at her response before nodding. “No eras la mejor en ocultarlo, bebita, (you weren’t the best at hiding it, bebita.)” you cooed, a loving look on your face.

Alexia’s face turned red once again, she was sure she had everything under control. Before she could respond, you beat her to it.

“A mí también me gustas, por cierto, (I like you too, by the way.)” you professed as a deep blush gracing your features as well.

Alexia’s eyes locked with yours before dropping slightly to look at your lips. She didn’t have time to debate with herself over whether or not she should kiss you before you made the decision for her. Your lips met her in a soft kiss, letting her dictate how it went. One of Alexia’s came to rest on the side of your neck, holding you still as the kiss got a little bit more heated.

You pulled away before it could get further, needing a breather more than anything. You wanted to take Alexia out on a date before things went any further.

“¿te gustaría tener una cita conmigo? (would you like to go on a date with me?)” as you spoke your eyes dropped to your interlocked hands, despite both of you just confessing you were still nervous she might say no.

Alexia’s hand that was resting on your neck moved to your jaw, tilting your head up to meet her gaze. The blonde leaned in for a quick kiss, whispering “sí” as she pulled away.

Both of you sat in the film room with bright cheeks as you planned your future date. You were glad your teasing ended the way you wanted it to. All you could hope for now was that the date with Alexia went well and that maybe it progressed into something more.

#woso x reader #barca femeni x reader #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #espwnt x reader

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bad268 · 1 year ago

Note

omg im obsessed with your work! could i please request kimi antonelli and a reader who is just kind of sad and cries a lot? or just like some general comfort? xx

Strawberry Margarita Mix (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Menstruating! Reader)

Clingy Antonelli Universe

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (Also, combined this with #3, Figure Skating Anon <3 I love both of you and I hope yall don't mind I made this part of Clingy Antonelli)

Warnings: Menstruating reader, midol mentioned, aged up Kimi

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1430

Summary: The reader's period makes them a little emotional, but Kimi knows the trick.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

It didn’t happen a lot, but whenever you were the clingy one, it meant everything was wrong and the world was gonna end. It was usually only a problem when you didn’t feel good, which was rare. The other common reason occurred every month like clockwork. Your period was one of the worst things you could experience, and it was always a role reversal for you and Kimi.

He was usually the clingy one, but during your monthly hell week, your level of cling outweighed him easily. It sucked when he had a race, but the summer break was one of the few times you did not have to worry about being separated for races or the like. He made it very clear to any team he signed with that there was always one week a month that he would not be coming in for anything unless it was absolutely necessary. Mercedes was no exception.

Granted they knew about you since you and Kimi had been dating for as long as they could remember, but when he got signed to the F1 team, they continued their original agreement.

And that’s where you were now.

You were supposed to be on a boat somewhere in the Maldives, but no. You were curled up in your room, crying because you ran out of strawberry margarita mix. You may have been completely miserable, but you wanted to at least pretend you were on vacation, and when you saw the mix was gone from the last time you wanted to get into the vacation vibe, you just cried.

“I can get you more, amour (love),” Kimi comforted as he wrapped you in his arms, trying and failing to keep the smile off his face. He really wanted to take you seriously, but this was the seventh time you cried today.

The first was because you couldn’t find the remote. Then it was the sunrise was so pretty, it brought tears to your eyes. Then the water was too cold when you took a bath. That was Kimi’s fault, and he apologized. Next, you accidentally stained your favorite pair of sweatpants which were actually Kimi’s, and your throw blanket. You had two separate episodes from that. One because you stained the paints and blanket, and another one because you didn't want to do laundry. Lastly, you cried because you felt like you were missing out.

This vacation in the Maldives had been planned with a group of your friends, and seeing their posts on Instagram made you feel like you were missing out. However, a small part of you also knew you would be miserable in the Maldives too. You’d rather subject Kimi to your moodiness rather than your entire friend group, but you were experiencing some major FOMO.

Then Kimi had the incredible idea of doing similar things at your apartment like drinking margaritas and tanning, and you planned to go to a beach later in the week. It sounded like a great plan at first, but as soon as you saw there was no strawberry margarita mix, it felt like the end of the world.

“No,” You wined as you hid in his chest. You wanted to stop the tears, but it was harder said than done.”I wanted strawberry margaritas.”

“We have classic lime. Does that work until we can get more?” Kimi tried to offer as he swayed you two back and forth and ran his fingers along your back in a comforting manner.

“No,” You dragged out again with more tears as you sort of melted in his arms to sit on the ground in the fetal position. You weren’t crying about the margarita mix anymore. Your cramps started flaring up and the last thing you wanted to do was stand. “I hate this.”

I know you do amour (love),” Kimi consoled as he sat on the kitchen floor beside you as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He also snaked his hand between your thighs and stomach to place his hand on your tummy as a makeshift heat pack for the time being. “I know it hurts now, but you’ll get through this. You’re the strongest person I know, and I know you always prove to be stronger each and every month.”

“I don’t feel very strong,” You muttered as you turned to bury your face in his neck, inhaling his calming scent. “Why does it always have to be so painful?”

“How about this?” Kimi starts, He moves his arm from your shoulders to hold your chin, forcing you to look at him. He gently whipped away the stray tears from your cheeks before placing a light kiss to your lips. “I think you just need some pampering and cuddles, so why don’t we go and watch a movie in our room? We can have all of the snacks you want, and if you’re feeling up for it, we can go out for your favorite pasta later. How does that sound?”

“I think that sounds like heaven,” You sighed as you leaned into his hand.

“Good, you go get comfy, and I’ll grab anything and everything you could want,” Kimi left one last kiss on your nose before standing, holding his hand out to help you up as well.

“Except the margarita mix?” You joked lightly when you stood up, smirking at Kimi as you teased.

“Except for the margarita mix,” Kimi sighed with a small smile. “Now, go before I leave you in the bed all alone.”

“No!” You shouted as you immediately clung to his arm as tears sprung into your eyes again., “Don’t say that!”

“I’m kidding amour (love),” Kimi chuckled as he kissed your forehead before looking back at you. “I promise, I’ll be in our room in like 5 minutes. You go pick a show or movie, and I’ll get all of the snacks for you. I’ll also get your hot water bottle. Let me handle all of it while you get comfy.”

Begrudgingly, you left his side to go take a quick shower to wash off before putting on a new t-shirt and sweatpants, taking care of your products as well. Then you set up in bed. You laid out a towel on our bed just in case a leak happened again before you got comfortable under your comforter and loaded up Netflix. You went to your comfort movie/show and prompted it up for when Kimi came in. Speaking of Kimi, it had definitely been more than five minutes. You gave him a couple extra minutes, thinking he lost track of time, but it didn't take long for him to walk in the room with everything.

Every comfort snack, drink, candy, and ice cream you had ever mentioned. He had everything for you. He also had a glass in his hand, but you couldn’t see what it was. You assumed it was your comfort drink already poured out. He set all of the snacks around the bed before setting your Stanley cup on your bedside table beside a couple of Midols. He always put water in it and encouraged you to stay hydrated. Then, he put the glass in your hand.

“Thank you, baby,” You said as you took a drink from the glass and immediately made a shocked face. “Strawberry margarita?”

“Don’t be so shocked,” Kimi chuckled as he sat next to you under the covers. “It was pretty easy when you can get things delivered. I have us stocked for a while, so any time you want a margarita, you let me know.”

“Not just any margarita, Kimi,” You graned as you leaned into his side, “A strawberry margarita.”

“Oh, my bad,” He teased back as he played the movie/show. This was what you needed. Just to be held by him. That’s all you wanted and needed in this moment. It was like as soon as he wrapped his arms around you, you were gone. You snacked a little on what was around you, but honestly, crying took a lot out of you. You were ready to just collapse for the next week. You didn’t want to yet, though. You still had one more thing you wanted to say.

“Kimi,” You whispered as you looked up at him from your place on his chest. He hummed in response, almost asleep but not totally gone yet. “Thank you for putting up with me. Ti amo (I love you).”

“Ti amo di più, mia vita (I love you more, my life),” He whispered back, pulling you tighter against his chest. “Sempre (Always).”

~~~

Part 4 ->

Series masterlist

~~~~~

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musetheapothecary · 3 months ago

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good girl

itoshi rin x fem!reader

Sleep-stuck eyes and jaw cracked wide around an endless stream of yawns, snatches of muffled music from a pair of headphones forgotten in the folds of an over-large hoodie. It’s dark out, the world still and silent and chilled, and the transition from star-studded shadow to pale fluorescents is blinding. She buries her face into his shoulder with a grumble, fingers slipping through his as he taps both their passes against the sensor.

She’s led, blind and stumbling, through the stark grey reception and deposited outside the women’s changing rooms. Warm fingers tuck tangles of hair behind her ears and cradle her night-cold cheeks.

“Put your stuff away,” Rin instructs lowly. “I’ll meet you back here in five.”

She hums and nuzzles into his palm, wondering how he’s always so warm. She presses a kiss to the fluttering pulse at his wrist before letting him slip away. She half-falls through the changing room door and shuffles towards the lockers, stowing her bag and shucking off her tracksuit pants and hoodie. Her trainers get caught and she groans miserably before kicking those off as well. She’s glad no one is there to see her struggle–it’s beyond early, and the rest of the gym’s patrons are sensible enough to use the night for its intended purpose. Sleep. She lets out a mournful noise.

It’d been especially difficult pulling herself from bed this morning, given that Rin had stayed over the night before. She’d been blissfully cocooned in warmth, nuzzled up against his throat, when his blasted alarm had gone off. She’d begged for a rest day, tried every trick in the book; pleading, bargaining, seduction.

But Itoshi Rin is not a man who is easily swayed. She loves his dedication, adores his perseverance, and thinks the borderline religious way he takes care of his body and mind is impossibly attractive.

Just not when he drags her into it.

There’s a knock at the changing room door.

“Coming,” she calls, voice hoarse from lack of use.

The gym’s air conditioning sucks the moisture from the room and sends shivers skittering up her spine, she hurries to the door and wraps herself around Rin between one step and the next. He grunts, but accepts the weight of her body with a not-quite laugh, steering them both towards the mats to begin their warmup.

“You’re such a leech,” he mutters, fondness and exasperation all balled up in one. She gasps but doesn’t release him, merely chomps down on his arm in retaliation and peers up to see red creep out from under the collar of his tank top and up towards his neck. “What are you doing? We’re in public.”

She bites down harder, just for a moment, and grins at the strangled noise that escapes him. “Gym’s empty, hotshot. And you called me a leech, so I’m going to act like one.”

He wraps a hand around the back of her neck, fingers pressed to her rabbit-quick pulse, scruffing her like a misbehaving kitten. She doesn’t feel tired, not anymore.

He dips his head down to be level with hers, voice low and syrupy. “If I call you a good girl will you act like one of those, too?”

She freezes in his grip, vision turned to pin-prick points until all she can see is the electric blue of his lidded gaze. Her head feels foggy, thoughts melting like molasses out of her ears.

Rin huffs a laugh through his nose and releases her, tucking his hands in his pockets as he continues on towards the mats.

Her jaw works, trying and failing to form words, before she stumbles after him with a whine. “That’s not fair.”

#itoshi rin #blue lock x reader #blue lock #blue lock drabble #blue lock headcanons #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader

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errielovesu · 1 year ago

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Sesshomaru x Fem!Reader (smut)

Cw: Violence, drugging, breeding, oral sex, sex in general, humiliation (?), mentions of sex work/prostitution

A/N: first smut, first fan fic what feels like since 2021, I would’ve wrote this in second person pov but I just ended up doing first pov, I hope you enjoy (^^)

Word count: 2,131 words (wow)

The flash of blush that passes through my body could be enough to warm me up…foggy vision and no knowledge of what or where i’m at.

“Wake up.” I hear a voice say, funny that this thing thinks i’ve slept, I sit there immobile, i’m not afraid but i’m unsure on how to address the current situation. “I know you heard me, you low level thing” thing? i’m not some thing? I slowly peak my head towards the door where the voice comes from, tall, long haired, that’s as much as my eyes can figure out. “Who are you? What did you do to me? Where am” I got cut off by the sudden steps towards me, slowly he comes into my vision.

A demon! “Tell me, why does your kind always say so many words with no meaning.” I asked what I think are very meaningful questions! “What do you want” I snark, quickly i’m met with pain. He slapped me. He slapped me? “Do you not seem to remember? You tried to kill me. Pathetic attempt as you failed miserably and got yourself into this situation.” he said, his voice deep and cold, he reaches down and pets my back, leaving a trail of goosebumps along my body, “i’m not sure I understand, before coming here i was…? i was?” I don’t remember anything at all, “What? You can’t recall your stupid actions, can’t you own up?” I shiver, usually I can get out these situations with a quick smile and wink but I sure this time it might be over for me.

“My name is Lord Sesshomaru” Lord? who actually is this guy. “Lord..?” I stammer out, “Yes, that’s what I just say did I not?” yet another smart ass response, he slowly sits down in front of me, his face more visible now, “Lord Sesshomaru whatever I did i’m sure I can fix but I don’t wish to be tied down like livestock.” I don’t think i’ve been here for a short period of time, i’m starving and weak, I need to do whatever I need to do to get this so called demon lord to release me. “You can fix?” Slowly his hand approached my face, the stands of hairs framing my face get moved out the way, his long nails caress my face enough to give me goosebumps once again, my body is afraid but i’m not, I want out of this place. “If you claim you can fix this attempt of murder that you tried to commit, what shall you do?” Trying to make out his face for some kind of weakness but I fail once more, i’m blind into this, only a figure talks to me, “I can pay you a lot of money, I kn—“ Pain meets my face one more, the familiar slap i felt before, “I’m not in need of money you pet” this time his voice scares my body once more, my body is slowly becoming numb, my joins hurt and i’m losing hope, money always works? everyone wants money? “What do you want then, demon.” I spit out almost defeated, his hand reaches out, I prepare for the slap i’ll get, “You’re willing to do anything? Without denying me?” No slap? Anything? What is he thinking, i’m afraid now, my senses slowly returning and I can smell this place, i’m terrified. “What do you need, Lord?” I vomit out, I don’t enjoy feeling defeated this way. “What is it that your body can do?” My body? Oh. My pride swallowed the fact I am naked, I look down to my figure, my breast, my core, quickly I pull my legs to my chest covering myself, he reaches out and slams my legs down to their original position, “You said anything to get out, you can’t fight? you’re too weak…you should just give up yourself to me now.” Give myself up? Slight beads form in my eyes, I gave up this kind of work ages ago, “I know what kind of filthy work you did…it’s no secret you used to give yourself up to other demons” Sesshomuro? Have I worked with him before? “Yeah I did, years ago, are you forming some kind of revenge plan because I didn’t do you?” My mouth is going to get me killed, “You didn’t do me because I would never pick some thing to help me through my issues, your body wouldn’t even be able to hand my touch” His cold voice makes me want to snark at him, his hands reach out to me once more, this time i’m afraid of where he might reach, my breath hitched his hand wonders around my neck, afraid he’ll lower his hands more my body trembles in his touch, my hands tied behind me and my ankles tied as well. Sesshomuro gets up and leaves the room quickly he comes back with a tea cup, “You should drink this. I don’t want to mess with such a weak body” He holds up the cup to my mouth, I drink the liquid, not to worried what it could be from the strong smell of tea the tea cup gives out, slowly I consume the liquid, my body feels warm again. “I’ll be back.” He closes the door behind him, a big sigh leaves my body when seconds later I lose consciousness.

“You can’t handle anything can’t you?” A muffled voice interrupts my sleep, “You’re body is warmer than usual. Pathetic how the body can submit itself.” What is he talking about, my eyes feel too heavy to open and my body even heavier to move, my face is lifted up by his cold hand, “Tell me human, why is it that your body yearns for me” I can’t formulate a coherent sentence for him, “Too stupid to talk?” His thumb caresses my lower lip, slightly parting my lips together his cold finger slithers its way inside my mouth, “If you’re mouth is this warm I wish to see what other places are.” My eyes slowly wake up once more, his face close to mind, his finger in my mouth it’s all so weird and I can’t process anything around me, his finger slips out of my mouth, “Please what do you want from me?” I whine out in desperation, my body slowly regaining strength, “I want you to serve me with your body” My body snaps away from him in protest, I don’t want to ever touch a demon in that way ever again…I promised myself. My thoughts merge together I can’t formulate thoughts again, what is going on with me. “Seems that it’s finally taking action, wether you want to or not your stupid cunt will be attracted to me”

What? I feel a heat rush through my body, my heart beat accelerating, Lord Sesshomaru drugged me? For sex? I can’t think straight, slowly I feel it, the wetness build up on my sex, my nipples hard and my face flushed, “Shouldn’t you be embarrassed? hah..your body is dripping for me you animal.” My body is too weak to stop his advance, his face close to mine, his hands grab my waist and pick me up, my legs wrap onto his body uncontrollably my body needs to be close to his, I need friction, my body needs pleasure, it feels as he’s carrying me away, shortly my body is pressed into a floor, Sesshomaru towering over me and my body, he lowers down and kisses me, not gently, these are desperate kisses, sloppy kisses, my body only responds by kissing him as well, the interchanges of kisses fuels my body more, I need more, Sesshomarus hand slowly wonder on my body, caressing my neck till he reaches my harden nipples, he isn’t afraid to start playing with them as he stops kissing me and moves his mouth towards my neck, he pushes his teeth into my neck, my body is feeling so much pleasure I can’t feel any pain, I want more. He cups my breast and slaps them, the feeling only fueling my desire for more, his hand move to my face and quickly he lifts me up, “Your mind has sure changed, you’re wet and warm” looking up to him his eyes are red, his fangs longer than before and quickly he grabs my hair and positions me right on his lap, my face…close to his cock, it’s begging to be taken out, “You’ll do me a big favor you pathetic whore” he’s sitting down and i’m on all fours, my ass up in the air exposing everything there is to hide, he slowly pulls his twitching cock out, no time is wasted when he pulls my face straight down, stuffing my mouth with his giant member, I slurp and bob my head for his pleasure, he moves his hand and grabs my ass in the air, my ankles still bonded together pushing my thighs together, Sesshomarus finger wander around my body till he gives in and starts running his finger down my slit, wet and warm, all he can think about his shoving himself deep in me. His other hand pulls my mouth from around his cock, he grabs my face and leads my body to his lap, my dripping sex begging for his cock to fill it up, “You help yourself to it, i’m not going to do everything for you” Slowly I start to position his big head around my entrance, i’m afraid he’s too big for me and he’ll break me, when I slowly ascend into him, Sesshomaru slams himself inside me, he isn’t gentle, rapid strokes meet my core, I can’t help but let out moans and whines, my breast bouncing on his face as his red demon eyes seem to almost want to eat me whole, hands tied behind back as he forces and uses me as his doll, he growls and hums as I squeeze around him. “You gave up this work for what reason? Your tight cunt should always be put to use, you’re unbelievably stupid for doing this, you’ll have to endure me for however long I want” Sesshomaru snarks at me, he stops and throws me on my stomach, positioning himself once again and slamming himself in me, my cunt swallowing every single inch of his cock, unsure how i’m taking him so well I only have pleasure in my head, I need to finish, I need to make him finish, his cold hand lift me up and once again he sinks his teeth into my neck this type more aggressive than before, moans escape my mouth and I can’t contain it anymore, it feels so good, he feels so good, he throws me back on bed and drags my ass up again, slamming once more into me, his hand grabbing

my hips and i’m used like his doll again, all I feel is him. His strokes start to get more sloppy as I feel him twitch inside me, I can’t help but beg for him, beg for his seed in me, i’ve never gotten any in me and right now my body is only asking for it. “The stupid thing wants my cum? Are you even deserving of such treatment, to carry my off spring inside you?” I can’t help but just nod at his words, I want every single drop he has to offer, his strokes filling up every single part of my canal, begging more he shoves his finger in my mouth and forces me up, he cover my mouth with them as he becomes more aggressive, his cock feeling bigger than before in me, my muffled whines and begs only makes him go even faster and faster, he keeps going until I feel it, everything inside me, the warm liquid filling up my womb as he keeps fucking it into me, more whines follow my climax as I clench around his cock and shiver in pleasure. Sesshomaru quickly removes himself from inside me and flips me over, his tounge swirling around his bite marks as he cleans up my blood, his face, his hair, everything you see. He leaves the room and snarks, “If you did give up such work years ago, why does your body still swallow me up everytime, what would others think? A human girl submitting herself to yet another powerful demon, think about that while my warm seed is inside you, farewell.”

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