#(tag fixed for the club! ty!!)

[ciearcab]

saw the bookclub’s reached vol 10 so i’m joining in on the sorrows :,)

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Enemies With Benefits (2)

Admit It

Wanda Maximoff X Reader 18+

Summary: Enemies. That was what you were. She was an Avenger, you were a criminal. You should hate her, she should hate you. So why do you love the feeling of her skin pressed against yours? Moans spilling from her lips? The taste of her on your tongue?

Casual, rough sex. That was all it was supposed to be but soon feelings start to get involved. Would something so scandalous be able to last?

Warnings/Tags: Smut 18+ MDNI, Strap on, Jealousy, Enemies, Rough sex, Dirty talk, Angry Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Wanda's Power's during Sex

General Masterlist | Enemies with Benefits Masterlist

Chapter 2- Admit It

---

Panic and anger flooded through Wanda as she frantically searched for the USB in her dress. The fear of letting Steve down another time for not completing a mission weighed heavily on her mind, the Captain trusting her with this mission and letting her do it instead of waiting for Natasha, who would normally have done a mission like that, to come back from her two week stake out with Clint.

Frustration with you also clouded her mind, this the third time you had stolen intel from her during a mission and at least the seventh time you caused her to not complete a mission. It had always ended in hot, rough sex (not that she was complaining) but that caused her to be unaware of your sneaky actions.

Clenching her jaw, she walked back into the club, her eyes scanning the dance floor to see if you were still there. She saw the blonde from earlier making out with some man, the kiss sloppy making her look away with a grimace. After a few moments of searching, she realised you must have left and quickly made her way out of the club, one place set on her mind.

***

Your body moved with the music, your hand holding a glass of whiskey while the other unbuttoned your shirt as you were getting warm. You briefly looked over at your laptop, the files from the USB almost downloaded so you quickly moved to grab the small box and tag. You neatly wrote ‘To My Little Witch’ on the tag, knowing how mad Wanda would get once the Avengers received your little present and downed the rest of your drink. The liquid burnt the back of your throat but you didn't care as you watched the files finish downloading and took out the device and placed it in the box.

Just as you were tying the bow on the box (yes the bow on the box, you had to be dramatic) a loud knocking sound was heard on your door. You turned off the music, now able to hear how loud the pounding on the door was and chuckled at the knowledge of who it was.

“Hello my little witch,” you say as the door opens, her eyes glowing red as she looks at you in anger. She didn't respond to you, only pushing you into your apartment and slamming the door shut. Her hand found your neck and she swiftly pinned you to the door, her magic holding your hands against the wooden door. “Anything I can do for you?” you tease, her grip tightening around your throat making you shut up.

“You,” her finger roughly slammed against your chest, “Need to stop fucking my missions up.”

“The only thing I’m fucking is you little witch,” Wanda tilts her head at you, a daring look in her eye to make you continue, “It’s not my fault you’re easy to steal from.”

“Give it back. Now. ” Her voice is laced with anger but you can’t help but annoy her more.

“Or what? Gonna send your friends after me?” She remained silent for a moment, thinking to herself and looking around. Her eyes soon met your unbuttoned shirt, your toned body on show for her along with your black lace bra. You caught what she was staring at and chuckled, her gaze snapping to your smug face. “I’ll make you a deal. Admit that you were jealous earlier, and I'll give you whatever you want.”

Wanda had to stop the trail of thoughts that filled her mind with the promise of whatever she wanted and focussed on fixing her mistake, even if that meant ignoring the throbbing heat building between her legs

“Just give me the USB,” she pleaded, her voice no longer angry.

“Just admit it then,” you rasped out while her body moved closer to yours subconsciously. Wanda clenched her jaw, her pride not worth failing the team again so she moved to whisper in your ear, trying to have the same effect as you have on her.

“I was jealous of her,” she purred, her magic slowly releasing your hands.

“More,” you whispered, still trapped against the door.

“I was jealous of how she had your hands on her, your mouth whispering words only I should hear,” you moved your leg forward so it slotted between her thighs, a breathy sigh escaping her. “It should have been me in your arms, not her.”

“Good girl,” you whispered back, your hands now free to move, immediately going to her hips, “Now what do you want?” Wanda thought for a moment before smirking at you.

“I want to ride you, hard,” you groaned at her words and the feeling of her hand moving from your neck to trail her fingers over your jaw. “Then, you can do what you do best and fuck me,” her thumb glides over your bottom lip, dragging it down and letting go. “And finally, you can give me the USB.”

“So greedy,” you whisper before kissing her, hands threading through your hair as yours went to the back of her thighs to lift her up. You carried her to the bedroom, placing her down and immediately unzipping the dress so you could pull it down. Her hands pushed off your shirt, scratching down your back causing you to hiss into the kiss. “You know, I should be punishing you for being so careless,” you murmur as you kiss along her jaw, “Losing such a valuable item.” You find yourself quickly on your back with her on top, strong, powerful legs straddling your waist as she glared down at you.

“And I should punish you for taking it from me, maybe I should tie you to the bed and use you as much as I want to in return for your actions,” she purrs, her hands unclasping her bra to show off her perfect breasts.

“You already said what you wanted, no take backs,” you murmur, her eyes rolling at you before you take a perk nipple into your mouth. Her mouth parts to moan while her hands clutch at your shoulders, your tongue swirling around her nipple before letting it go to do the same with the other. You only stop your actions when she climbs off your lap, swiftly pulling your trousers down and walking over to the drawer to pull out the strap on. You put it on as quickly as possible as the witch pulls down her drenched panties and returns to your lap.

“Fuck,” she groans out as she lowers herself down on the toy, your hands going to guide her hips but are restrained by her magic. She gives you a mischievous smirk that swiftly changes to an open mouth, moans tumbling out as you thrust your hips up to bury the toy into her. Her hands grip onto your thighs as she leans back slightly, her hips moving up and down the large plastic cock. You watch mesmerised as the toy is swallowed by her pussy, her arousal coating it and dripping onto your skin.

Soon, she’s bouncing on your lap like it’s the last time, the whole bed shaking as she brings her hips down onto yours. Pants and moans spill from her lips while she rides you into oblivion, her hips moving frantically as she nears her orgasm. With fervour, she moves her body upwards before slamming back down on the toy before sticking to rolling her hips hurriedly and clenching around you. Her hands dig into your thighs, leaving crescent shapes to mark you of your time together.

“I’m so close,” she moans out, releasing your hands so one can travel to her clit. You oblige her silent demand and circle the sensitive bud, her hips twitching in your lap as she gets even closer. Her hands move to grope at her own chest, pinching and pulling at her nipples.

“Come for me,” you husk out, her replying by screaming your name and tensing on top of you. Gradually, her hips slow, riding out the aftershocks, her body moving forwards and leaning down to kiss you. The kiss is messy, her too out of breath to properly make out with you. You take this as the sign to roll you two over, a whimper coming from her at the action while her hands go to grip at your back. “Still want me to fuck you?”

“What a stupid question,” she teases, pulling you down for another heated kiss. You quickly pull back, pulling out till only the tip is in before slamming your hips forwards. She moans into your mouth as you pound her into the mattress, her hands clutching at the sheets near her while you kiss at her neck when she can’t keep the kiss going. You snap your hips into her, panting against her neck as you feel the base of the toy hitting your clit. “Shit, you’re making me feel so good,” she sighs out, back arching as you thrust in harder.

“You look so pretty stretched out for me,” you mutter, moving back to ghost your mouth against her lips. You swallow her moans, her hands moving down to your back, scratching down making you hiss, then to your ass as you drill the toy into her. She pulls back from the kiss when you hit a spot deep inside her, head thrown back into the pillow showing off her neck and sharp jawline.

“Harder,” she begs and you want to scoff at her, is making the whole bed shake not hard enough? You grip at her thigh as she wraps her legs around you, pressing hard enough to leave a bruise that she’ll enjoy looking at another time, and change to slower but harder and even deeper thrusts. Sokovian curse words spill from her lips while you fuck her mercilessly, the sound sending another wave of arousal down to your core.

“I’m close,” you murmur, the friction against your clit having you so close. Her mouth reaches yours and with one final thrust, you climax, her following straight after. Your hips stutter as you experience the aftershocks, her body twitching under yours as her legs shake slightly.

You pull out when she is ready, discarding the toy and making a mental note to clean it later and leave the room to grab her a glass of water. Just because you’re supposed to hate her doesn’t mean you can’t be nice to her, right? When you return, she takes the glass with a quizzical look before exhaustion decides to take over her. You’re not sure what to do when she quickly drifts off to sleep, curled up against your pillow so you place the box with the USB on the other pillow and quietly retreat.

“Goodnight, my little witch,” you murmur, leaving your apartment with your laptop, ready to go through all the files while Wanda sleeps peacefully in your bed.

[theloveinc]

(kinda-divorced!kiri tag here!)

(warning: you’re in a dress + angst)

-

It’s not even a date that you’re getting gussied up for, yet almost-divorced!Kirishima finds himself more nervous than ever.

Sat on the corner of the bed you used to share, watching you hop around the room in between attempts at fixing your shirt, your hair, whatever it is that even needs fixing in the first place, he can’t tell. Your son, playing on the little gaming console he got him at the promise of no longer being ignored at the dinner table, across the room on the big blue armchair, looking up every few minutes as if chaperone to the hijinks of his falling apart family. 

You look better than he’s ever seen you, though Kiri knows that’s not really true, just some trick of whatever part of his mind wants to torture him for all the times he took you for granted looking like this before. Sure, he didn’t shy away from laying on the compliments that first hero gala he took you to all those years ago, but he remembers your last anniversary (14 months and 3 days ago, you skipped what was supposed to be your most recent) and how he left dinner at the agency’s request before he could say something about… anything.

Kiri is pretty confident you remember. Still, he tries not to let the memory get him down. He clears his throat.

“You look nice.” 

You barely spare half a glance (half a smile, really) at him from where you stand in front of the big mirror above your dresser.

“Thanks.”

“And you said...” he pauses, as if to wait for an automatic correction, give you the chance to read his mind like you always sort of have… but you don’t say anything, don’t even pause the fluffing of your hair, take the pins out of your mouth to acknowledge his presence. “You said you’re going to a club?”

“A birthday party. At a club.” 

Technically, he knew that already, though his stomach still lurches and flip flops at the thought of you at some dingy bar, alone, with no one to protect you. Even worse, almost, with other women, all of your friends, whispering that it’s okay to let loose, to have a drink, maybe even find someone new to share your slice of birthday cake with rather than taking it home.

“For who?”

You still don’t look at him. 

“A mom friend. You don’t know her.”

That’s right. He stopped making time for all the parent events you used to sign up for a long time ago. They’re probably not even events anymore, just tea while the kids all play screaming in yard. It was never your yard.

He has yet to forgive himself.

“At a club?” 

From out of the corner of his eye, he can’t help but notice the way son rolls his. 

“Yes, Eijirou.”

Somehow, his first name hurts even worse, and he tries not to say anything. Not to let out a gush of all the bottled up tears within him, or even worse, a stream of “how could you-s” and “don’t talk to any guys, okay? Alright? Okay?” 

He knows he doesn’t have the right to say any such things to you anymore. That it’s you who’s hurting, who has the right to do what you want… not that you would do anything crazy (in fact, he knows you wouldn’t, too focused on taking care of yourself, your son, all the things he ruined, by himself, without help), but you deserve to have fun when you can. You deserve to feel beautiful and loved and wanted, by men who actually take the time to tell you that you’re pretty, and friends who actually tell you they want you around. 

He feels his heart collapsing in on itself, the damage already done and yet still causing collateral on the rest of him... and yet, he still can’t bring himself to let go. 

“Do you... need any help?”

Kiri wants to do what he can, prove he’s still there for you the way you always were for him. Even if all that means is tying the sash around your little cocktail dress, helping to wedge your feet into the pointed heels you dug up from the bottom of the closet, smoothing oil into the tips of your hair. 

But his son replies instead, nearly interrupting as he immediately hops off his seat and haphazardly throws his expensive gaming device back in his place. “I can do it, dad.” 

He reaches you before he can even (get his head out of his ass) blink, instead forced to watch as you easily turn, accept, and smile at, the warmth of your son’s hands on the back of your neck as he doesn’t even have to reach for the clasp. Kiri wonders when he got so tall, when his dark hair grew so long, when he stopped looking so much like you and started looking tons more like him.

But he nods. Mindlessly, in acceptance, at least to look a little less pathetic and heartbroken over the fact that your son is taking his place (and you’re letting him).

[cas-skz]

Behind Closed Doors (Part 1.1)

Pairing: Choi San x Female Reader

Word Count: 818

Summary: Your favourite client shows up to celebrate a work promotion.

Warnings/Tags: MDNI, Suggestive Content, Female Entertainment, Pet Name, Club Environment

@littleforeignaffairs

The click of your heels hit against the floor as you take quick, short strides. Your feet practically drag, keeping you from tripping.

“You're late” A male voice teases in a sing song tone.

“Thank you Big Ben” You retort sarcastically.

“You’ve got VIP tonight. Your man is here with some others”

You smirk a little to yourself, fixing your uniform in the mirror. Though you couldn’t really call it a uniform, considering you were half naked. You’ve been working for the same club for a few years. It isn’t a dance or party club, really, but one where many wealthy men often come for entertainment.

You cup your hand into the top of your corset, pulling your breast up. Your chest already was a decent size, but you couldn’t help but flaunt it when the opportunity rose. You grab both your breasts pushing them up, catching a female figure entering the room.

“You know he’ll tip you well without that” She giggles. Tiff is not only your closest friend, but the manager of the “entertainment” side of the club.

“Hey, I have a reputation to uphold here”

Tiff tightens your corset for you

“Why bother, you’re leaving me anyway” Her complaints are always so dramatic. You roll your eyes, sighing

“Look, it’s just until the new lead settles. He’s already been with the company for a long time, he just needs a hand with new tasks”

During the night, a couple times a week, you were at the club with Tiff. Entertaining rather wealthy men. During the day, you worked a 9 to 5 desk job. Though now, you’re acting as an assistant to your new team lead. You know nothing about this man, other than he was with another branch in the company. No one on your team knew who the new lead was. It kind of seemed like a recipe for disaster. You purse your lips, wiping off a smudge of lipstick.

“You know I would much rather be in this playground” You wink at Tiff, tying your lacey masquerade mask over your face. You walk backwards out the door “Now, I must tend to Papi” You lean forward, shimmying you shoulders, allowing your breasts to shake.

The man you refer to as “Papi” is a regular client. As intimate as your hostess job could get, you always did well to keep things professional. No names. No personal information. Papi had an alpha male aura. Anytime you had seen him, he was surrounded by men who clearly treated him with superiority. You stand in the doorway of the VIP room, scanning the gentlemen. The smell of alcohol mixed with various colognes burned your nose. They all still wore their suits from their daily jobs, fitting their bodies well. Papi, as usual, was the center of attention.

He was handsome. Extremely. Especially when he came in like this, with his dark hair combed back and tight suit. You nibble your lip, finally entering the room. Some of the men cast their eyes to you, though yours stayed locked on one man

“Papi” You make your voice smooth, lingering in the air. He turns his body, you both finally making eye contact. His eyes were dark and sharp; Every time your eyes met, it made your shiver. It was no secret to anyone that you were Papi’s. He often requested you and always tipped you well.

Papi smiles at you, his eyes looking you over. Goosebumps. He extends his hand out to you, and you walk into his hold allowing his arm to wrap around your waist.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting” You pout playfully up at him, one of your hands sliding up onto his chest. It was firm underneath your fingers.

“Ah, for you I could wait” His lips pull to one side, grinning.

“Whats the occasion tonight, gentlemen” You raise your voice, addressing everyone in the room.

The men drank vigorously, keeping the bartenders busy and the price of the bill high. They often made toasts to Papi, who they were celebrating receiving a promotion. The men cheered, hooting like frat boys when you asked if you should praise Papi properly for his success. Papi raises his hands in innocence, laughing while the men horse around, shoving him towards you. You grab hold his neck tie.

“Come..” You say, walking backwards out the door leading Papi with you.

“Lola” Your name under the club “Come on, you know this isn’t necessary”

Although you often scheduled with Papi, he never treats you as the other clients do. It was rare he requested anything sensual or intimate from you. He did, however, like to have you by his side when he was at the club. You keep a tight grip on his tie, pulling him into a private room.

“Sit” You demand him, closing the door behind you. Papi half chuckles, hanging his head.

[itjazzbicch]

HellRaisers

Pairing:  Finn Balor x Fem Reader 

Summary: The reader has been friends with Finn Balor since he created the Bullet Club, being one of its first members. Ending up in WWE together, Finn distances himself when the reader joins Judgement Day, but even she is surprised when Damian reveals to her that Finn is the newest member and they plan to overthrow Edge, reuniting once again…

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY!) (Choking, rough sex)

Word Count: 2.6k 

Tag List: @demonqueen29 @peachy-satan00 @new-zealand-chic  @crowleysqueenofhell @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @thatpanpal @damnnhausen @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @linziland13 @xxx-jazz-xxx @writtingrose @cuzimacomedian @april-jeanette-wagner @starwithaheart @seeingstarks 

I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF:   

Joining Judgement Day sure was interesting. Edge had a different way of thinking in the aspect of wrestling now. I felt honored that he chose me to join and a new member was coming along? It really had Damian and me thinking.

Edge was handling things and I had a feeling we were going to get our hands dirty, so I was gearing up, finishing tying my boots when Damian walked in.

"So, do you know who the new member is?" I smiled up at him; I was never patient and hated waiting for surprises and when he smiled back, he sure knew:

"Brought him along with me actually."

"Oh yeah?" I smiled, looking past him as the door opened, freezing in my seat when Finn Balor walked in.

This was weird. For the past few weeks, we have been kicking his ass along with AJ Styles. Now, he was joining us? I needed an explanation, trying to say that with my quick glance at Damian.

"I know," He stood alongside Finn, "You're confused, but there's a reason why Finn is joining us."

I had no words. Finn and I had a long history. When he created the Bullet Club, I was one of the very first to join. We were best friends once upon a time, became distant but still were friends, all till I joined Judgement Day.

Once I joined, he turned into a ghost, enraged with me any time we crossed paths out there and now, he was joining us? Confused was exactly right.

"I know this wasn't what you were expecting," Finn fixed his jacket, being straightforward with me like he always was, "Tonight, we're taking over Judgement Day. We're taking Edge out."

"Damian," I shot up out of my chair, glaring at him, "What do you mean we're taking out Edge?"

"What happened to not letting anyone dictate your career, Y/N?" Finn stepped up to me, giving me a serious look and he wasn't kidding in the slightest, "Please tell me because that's exactly what Edge is doing."

"He's holding us back," Damian agreed, keeping me quiet and Finn continued:

"No one will limit us and if we join forces and get rid of that old man, just imagine all the things we could do."

I was always open-minded, listening to Finn's reasoning and he really topped the cake when he got a little closer, smiling and bringing back old memories:

"We made a promise to one another that we would take over any place we step foot in. We did it in Japan, NXT, and now, we're going to do it here. Hell, we could take over Raw and Smackdown. You know that we were a force to be reckoned with. It can be just like old times, but even better, Y/N."

Looking back at it, those were great times, peaks of my career, and Finn was right. No one dictated me. It was okay to have some partners in crime, but no one was going to guide me down a path except for myself.

"So," Finn wanted his answer, throwing up a too sweet and smiling, "Too sweet?"

Glancing between him and Damian, they were dead serious and they won me over, returning my smile back to Finn, giving him a too sweet, feeling so good to say once again:

"Too sweet, baby."

"Hell yeah," Damian had us all smiling, fist-bumping us, "Edge won't know what hit him."

We made sure we had a confirmed game plan before Finn left and we went back to meet Edge. I was fighting such a strong, devilish smile the whole time, blood pumping and holding back an adrenaline rush that I knew that I was going to get.

By the time we got out to the ring, waiting alongside Edge so he could introduce our new member, the crowd was very blown away when Finn's music hit. They all paid close attention when Finn made his way down, giving his explanation as to why he was there.

"I reached out to them last night after the show," Finn always gave me a look when things were about to go down and so, I got myself ready, "We realized that we have a lot more in common than we even realized and that is, we are tired of being told what to do."

I'm surprised that didn't give it all away at that moment, then Damian took the lead, our plan going into effect, saying to Edge:

"And I think now, we realized that in the time we spent with you, you told us to get rid of any limitation that would hold us back. We're ready. We are ready to shed the last bit of limitations holding us back..."

Damian turned to Finn and me with a smile, Finn and I reconnecting our devilish ways, smiling so evilly happy, Edge instantly knowing what was about to happen when Damian turned back to tell him:

"Which is you."

Before Edge could react, Damian clotheslined the life out of him, stomping him out, Finn and I gladly joining. After Damian delivered a nasty slam, we drug him to the corner for Finn to give him a coupe de gras, smiles on our faces, turning to the crowd to establish ourselves.

The crowd got rowdy again as Edge made it to his feet, Finn and Damian heading to the corner and beating him down, kicking him out while I hung on the ropes, instigating:

"Get 'em boys!"

They were really ready to take him out, Damian throwing him above his shoulders and sending him through the announce desk.

"Ya know what to do," Finn commanded, going off on Edge again and then throwing him into the ring while I grabbed three chairs.

Finn always had to get his dose in first, taking a piece of the chair, putting it in his mouth and choking him out with it, getting that big adrenaline rush that I was dying for, laughing in Edge's face while Finn yanked back harder:

"Want to try and control us now, Edge? Come on, answer me!" 

Looking behind me, Damian had a chair in the middle of the ring, Finn dragging Edge over and putting his face in it. Security started rushing down, but I wasn't letting them even get near us, smacking one of them with a chair, scaring them all away and before more could come out, I ran over Edge, chair up in the air, and letting out a vicious roar, smacking his head with the chair and crushing it between the one against his face.

"That's my girl," Finn smiled bright at me, my chest heaving when delivering it back, reminding me of just who I was and I certainly wasn't anyone's puppet, making that known with the message we just sent.

Giving Finn a too sweet, we took the center ring, posing together and letting the world know that we were the true Judgement Day, feeling like I was in a flashback when Finn wrapped his arm around me, whispering to me:

"Haven't seen ya smile like that in a long time."

"You were so right," I looked up to those blue eyes, my heart racing even more than it already was, "No one dictates us."

"Exactly right," He kissed my temple softly, waving to Damian so we could head out, being little assholes, and waving goodbye to Edge who was being attended to by medical personnel.

Heading up the rampway, I started reminiscing about Finn, thinking of all the hell we raised throughout the years and I needed to know something, asking Damian softly with Finn ahead of us:

"Hope you don't mind, but can I have a moment with Finn? Alone?"

"Sure," He nodded, knowing we had history and I'm sure Finn heard me, taking my hand once we got backstage and Damian parted ways with us once we hit the locker room.

"Ya said that we needed a moment?" Finn hung up his jacket, but still listened to me, trying to be calm and make sure that I made sense:

"We're really a part of a team again?"

"What?" He laughed at me, "Ya think I have a trick up my sleeve or something? If I did, ya would know."

"I know," I thought deeply, "I was your right hand, Finn. I would know."

"Then why ask me that?" It was a stupid question truthfully, there was no going back after what we just did, but he understood, knowing me so well, becoming calm too and relating, "I understand. It all happened so quickly, I can tell ya blood was really pumping, ya still panting."

I didn't even realize that, staring into his eyes helped slow my breathing to a normal pace, letting him know more:

"It just-; I felt like I just got blasted into the past. I don't remember a time we raised hell like that."

"Felt so damn good," He snickered, "Can't wait to do more."

"Me too," I smiled, wanting to confirm by reminding him, "Had you putting kisses on me again. I know you were having a good time."

"Ain't the first time and won't be the last," He kissed my cheek and the long-missed feeling made my eyes close, shaking at his whisper, "Had an opportunity to be with my girl again and I wasn't losing it."

"Is that what this is all about?" I needed to know the truth and thankfully, Finn was always honest with me:

"Edge was using ya and I know ya better than anyone. We said that we would take over this place, but kept hitting roadblocks. This was an open, straight road that we could fly down. Won't lie to ya, I missed us. And we have the chance to be in charge along with it? Again, I couldn't lose this opportunity."

"A perfect opportunity," I agreed, my words having a double meaning and showing him that when I turned my nose, kissing him right on the lips.

We have shared a kiss before and it had been ages since then, both of us shaking with excitement while kissing back, more thoughts opening up as he whispered against my lips:

"And seeing ya all fired up like that? Only made my blood get hotter."

"I'll burn this whole place down if it turns you on," I giggled, kissing deeper and growling playfully, "You know that I know how to start a big fire."

"Better believe that I know," His chuckle was so dirty, hands yanking at my leather shorts, "Wanna set this room on fire?"

"What kind of question is that?" I toyed, stepped back to throw my top off and free my breasts, able to kick my feet out of my shoes, "You know we already planned on it."

"Love to see that ya can still read my mind," He smiled, doing the same with his loosened boots, stepping out of his trunks to be completely nude, and seeing him so sexy from head to toe made my knees weak, but also crazed me.

"Always have, always will," I breathed in before I lost all control, "Now, get over here and give it to me, baby."

We were like wild animals, all tongue in our kiss, arms wrapped around each other, rubbing and tugging, running through our hair and nearly falling from how fast we were trying to go, but finding a stable spot when he dropped to his knees, pressing my back into the floor.

"My oh my," He giggled when spreading my legs, cock learning how soaked my cunt was, having to tease me, "I really turned ya on out there."

"Have you seen yourself?" I hummed, pulling his beard softly to kiss, "I get wet just looking at you."

"Ya did call me the sexy devil for a reason," He picked his head up a little to see how my jaw dropped then clenched, my grip tightening as his tip split me, girth splitting me wider and filling me right up.

"That you are," My body fell so deep into pleasure, getting one more tease in before I was completely gone, "Might need some holy water after this."

"Oh, shut up," That did make him laugh a little, but he went right back to being animalistic, thrusting deep and drilling his hips into mine, "Much rather hear ya moaning."

Oh, he sure heard my moans, working his hips just right, upright on his knees to hold my legs up by the thighs, giving it to me harder to see just how loud I could get, having my eyes roll to the back of my head and throat strained a little from how high pitched my moans grew.

"You little devil, I swear," The pleasure was so good, but I loved letting him know how he could be with small shots, and damn it, he knew how to turn the tables on me, his voice alone increasing my wetness, let alone his hand on my throat, pulling me up a little to growl:

"If I'm the devil, then ya my little demon."

"I don't have a problem with that," I cooed, the swirl in my head giving me an out-of-this-world experience, with orgasm so close, my sinful side spoke for me, "Choke and fuck me harder."

"And ya say I'm the devil?" He chuckled, gladly listening and having me weak with the grip on my throat, mouth wide open and needing the air, but I didn't care a bit, only wanting that amazing, hard pound that made me ache.

"I have my moments," I got out with a quick breath, smiling brightly with my eyes rolling again, the lack of air having me gasping, harder and harder at the feeling of my walls clenching death grip, hearing our wet skin slapping, sweet spot about ruined and couldn't take much more without a waterfall coming out of me.

"Bout to have a great one," He still had an arm on my thigh, leaning down and pushing my leg clear down to the floor, growling in his kiss, "Cum for me. I know it's happening."

"I am!" I was getting woozy, but all of the pleasure, heat, and stings were as intense as ever, making sure I felt all of it along with the fuzziness in my head, "I'm cuming, Finn."

Knowing I needed the moment, he let go of my throat, holding my other leg and going as quickly as he could, which was a lot, having my body shaking because my back was trying to arch meanwhile, I was folded like a chair, chest heavy but still getting out screams, my cries of his name filling the room while I gave way, orgasm spurting out when my head fell back hard with a cry:

"Fucking hell, Finn!"

"Hell must be our heaven," He panted, smiling while reaching his edge, dropping my legs and having to prop himself up on his elbows on the sides of my head, both of us panting and worn out, but still having a fun time.

"It's heaven for us, hell for everyone else," I phrased better, his response had me wheezing:

"Sounds about right and after all that screamin', I know everyone heard that."

"Well, they better mind their business if they know what's good for 'em," I met his gaze deeply, smiling because I was happier than ever, "Because we're back."

Like Finn said before, we were a force to be reckoned with and that was truer now than ever, smiling just as bright as me in his kiss, "Hell yeah." 

[darklydeliciousdesires]

The Dark Passenger - Chapter Twenty One.

Your weekly fix of Camille and EZ is here, besties! As usual, thank you so much for following this and offering your feedback :) Enjoy!

Previous chapters - One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen  Nineteen  Twenty

Words - 3,262

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed

“So, going forward, after our plan has been executed, it would leave the path clear to instead bring in another income. Nothing says we can’t revert back to the heroin trade at some point in the future, but for now, and especially after having your grievances in my ear for the last few months over the growing rate of dead junkies, we need to cease. Stepping back and shutting down the pipeline as well as the LNG will facilitate that entirely. We have to be smart, save us all seeing the inside of a cell for the next twenty-five years to live. I ain’t about to let that happen.”

The figureheads of the various Mayan charters who sat around the Santo Padre table all nodded, everyone in agreement that EZ’s way forward was preferable to the risks they were taking. Much too much heat was on them, with the government sending far too many pairs of eyes in their direction, in order to uncover the supply of fentanyl cut heroin that was causing junkies to drop like flies. Four hundred and eighty-three inmates within the Californian prison systems alone had died in the previous seventy days. They couldn’t continue on that road, which was now ablaze before them; it was only a matter of time before it burned them to nothing, should they continue to ride along it.

The gavel fell, the men all filing out to retrieve cell phones and weapons, EZ, Bishop and Angel remaining behind at the table, the latter smiling proudly at his brother.  

“This was always the way it was supposed to be.” He lifted his chin, nodding. “The way you’re running this club now, using your intelligence, we’re gonna be alright. It was scary for a minute back there, I can tell you. Me and Bish, you had us all kinds of worried when it was your tumour talking.”

“He’s right, mijo,” Bishop confirmed, sinking his drink. “The only thing keeping me awake at night these days is my wife, which trust me, I’m more than happy with.” His wink had them both laughing, the men standing from the table, a sense of relief tying them back together once more, those broken bonds now restitched. His plan, it was flawless. He just had to hope Charming would be on board, since they were the last cog in the machine to get running smoothly once more.  

EZ revealed it all again to a second and third set of ears, in an arranged sit down between himself, his VP, Chibs Telford and Tig Trager four days later, just them present to hash out the initial details they would then take to a vote at their respective tables. The Sons had returned to Teller-Morrow, the clubhouse rebuilt, Wendy selling the garage to the Telford family prior to her departure from Charming, Abigail overseeing the running of it around her other, less legal career.  

It was with a lot of hope for co-operation in mind that EZ and Bishop entered that very clubhouse, getting down to business immediately with a detailed explanation on a way forward.  

“Ultimately, Chibs, it would mean that we of course stop pushing heroin through your turf, which is what you’ve been pushing back against us over, the route of our war. I just need a way to cut the cartel down. What my VP and I are thinking, is that you’re married to that way.”

Chibs leaned back in his chair, his thumb and forefinger slowly stroking his beard. “Aye, lads. If you want decimation, you’ve come to the right place.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled his cell out, tapping around before holding it to his ear. “Darlin’, I need you in church, if you can come up? Got a wee bit of an explosive proposition for ye.”

A few minutes later, and the iron lady of Charming walked through the doors, eyeing EZ and Bishop suspiciously. Looking to her husband, he glanced at the empty chair to Tig’s right, nodding with a smile. Whereas former presidents of the MC would never even entertain the idea of an old lady having a say in the actions of the club, Chibs Telford was different. He realised what a powerful asset his wife was.  

“So, gentleman,” she began, lifting her chin as she eyed them. “I take it my services in eradication are required?”  

EZ nodded, looking to Bishop, who extended the same. If there was one woman within their world, even one slightly on the fringes of such, who they respected without question, it was Abigail Telford. She made Gemma Teller look like a Care Bear.  

“I do, Abi. What I need is for a cartel to disappear, if you can make that happen for us?” EZ put to her, watching the corners of her mouth upturn. Blowing things up was, after all, notoriously her turn on.  

She reached for the pack of cigarettes in front of her husband, taking one out and lighting up. “Aye, lads. It’ll cost you, but I can most certainly make that happen for you. I’ll need a couple of weeks to pull in a few fellas from across the pond to assist me, but just give me addresses and times, and believe me, your little problem south of the border will be eliminated within a blink.”

“Thank you,” EZ began, grateful to her.

Bishop sank his drink, nodding in her direction. “Never has the saying chip off the old block been more appropriate. I met your dad once. I’ve never been so fucking scared of anyone as I was of Michael. Back when my club were importing cocaine through the same port your weapons were arriving in, he met with us to discuss the heat of such, bartering for the Mayans to move our shipments away from the gun porting. Lady, and I mean with the utmost respect, you are all your father,” he spoke, honestly humbled that such a figurehead was willing to help them extract the club from the cancer that had cut into the heart of them.  

Abi smiled, reaching for the bottle on the table, taking a few glugs. “I appreciate your compliments, but truly, I am not my father. Because if I were my da, I wouldn’t be so magnanimous in what I can offer you in return, to boost my business, keep your club in profit, and the Sons clear of the heroin trade flowing through their areas. As you know, the IRA doesn’t involve itself in drugs, it goes against our code, but we can always be open to furthering our weapon trade.  

“Of course, my husband’s club doesn’t have the reach over the border, but you guys do. Take it to the other cartels, reach out and let them know that the Mayans now primarily are movers of arms for our cause, and I assure you, you’ll receive one hell of a discount, and only deal with me directly.”  

EZ leaned back in his chair, side eyeing his VP with a grin. Abi’s thoughts exactly matched his own. He always enjoyed when a plan came together seamlessly, two sides realising how they could join forces to net a substantial profit. Hell, when he thought about it, he could likely move arms for more of a fair cut than pushing the tainted heroin that was causing way too many news headlines for his comfort.  

Life? It was pretty good for EZ as he continued to discuss the finer details, standing to shake hands with Chibs, Tig and Abi before leaving. All he had to do now was survive surgery. Arriving back in Santo Padre hours later, the first place he called in at was the Luna Lounge, giving his girlfriend a very approving whistle as she hung upside down on the pole, just one leg keeping her on, the other extended back, her hand reached to grab it. Sure, she was in hot pink lace that definitely was not the kind of underwear she preferred, or which he liked to see her in, but she looked so elegant to him up there, with a group of rowdy women throwing a paper storm in her direction.  

“God, what I wouldn’t give to offer her a seat right on my face,” one of the women announced as EZ stood next to her. He looked down at her with a soft chuckle, shaking his head.  

“Take it from me, you’d never be happier.”

Her eyes immediately widened as she swigged back her beer. “Jesus! Sorry, man! I didn’t realise she was your girl!”

“S’okay,” he reassured her with, reaching to pat her shoulder. “She’s a cutie, I get it. Believe me, I know how lucky I am.”

“Hell yeah, you are! I mean, I ain’t into dudes, but I can see from her point of view that she’s the same, lucky with you on your arm. Y’all got any kids? I bet they’re beautiful little things if you have.”

Her friendlily delivered words suddenly made something in his chest pull tight. Kids with Camille; it was the future he dreamed of, one day, but would he survive his impending operation in order to actually see it? No matter how confident Doctor Shepherd was, it of course still played on his mind with such risky surgery, being under anaesthetic with his skull partially opened up for a procedure she anticipated lasting for twelve hours at the very minimum.  

“Nah, no little ones just yet. I think I wanna enjoy it being just me and her for a while longer,” he revealed, the woman nodding knowingly.

“Oh yeah, give yourselves time. My wife and I had been together for ten years before we decided to bring kids into the mix. I carried the first, she the second, and they were twins, so we got our hands full!” she chuckled. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go put a nice little wedge in your girlfriend’s bra.”  

She patted his back, grinning before taking a fifty from her wallet and scurrying over to Camille, pushing the money in and receiving a kiss on the cheek, beaming while she was danced for. He hung back until she exited the stage, passing her a large diet Coke and kissing her forehead. “Just thought I’d call in and say hey on my way home. Charming went well.”

EZ had decided to do as his brother had and let the girl he was with know everything. It was easier that way, and Camille appreciated him for it.  

“Oh, that’s a relief!” she began as they moved to a free table and sat down, Camille taking her wedge out from her thong and bra, stacking the bills neatly. “So, I get to finish earlier tonight since I worked the afternoon shift, meaning I’ll be at your place for about ten thirty. Want me to bring Chinese food with me?”  

His stomach rumbled at the thought of chicken noodles. “Please. Can I have my usual and a Szechuan pork? I’m fucking starving!”

“And some plain beef strips for little one?” Oh, how Sally would be excited to be given that particular treat.  

“I dunno who loves you more, me or the dog.” He headed off soon after, kissing her fleetingly, promising her many more as soon as she arrived. Once she’d finished, Camille was glad she checked her phone, EZ messaging to increase the other by quite a lot, telling her the guys had decided to stay and hang out, and that beer munchies were required, an extra one hundred dollars transferred to her account to cover the expense.  

“Get it while it’s hot!” she announced after kicking the clubhouse door open, her arms full with the large box of takeout containers, being ran at by several very hungry men.

“Oh, I will!” Bella purred, wrapping her arms around her waist and kissing her cheek with a giggle. “How was work, peachy?”

“Tiring! I made a nice little wedge though, so I’ll be well stocked up to spend some serious cash come out little shopping excursion.” In fairness, it was more of a girl’s weekend than anything, her, Amelia, Nala and Tallulah (unfortunately Mai couldn’t swing it) all going up to LA to stay overnight and get some serious shopping done, Bella needing new clothes for her long-overdue honeymoon. Being signed with a record label just three months after she and Angel had eloped, and then so busy for the following two years, they’d put it on the back burner until then, heading off to Brazil for two weeks.

Their honeymoon clashed with the time EZ was set to head to Seattle for his operation, both of them wanting to push it back in light of such, with the former telling them in no uncertain terms that he didn’t want them to cancel. The three weeks between that night and the moment EZ sat down aboard a plane two days before his operation passed by in a blur, reaching for Camille’s hand as they took off. He was a nervous flyer, and she knew too, how much that was impacting him with his nerves over the surgery, gripping his hand as she leaned against his shoulder.  

“I couldn’t do this without you,” he told her once they were in the air and clear of the nerve-jangling turbulence.

“True, since nobody else would allow you to cut off the circulation between their hand and fingers.”

“Shit.” He loosened his grip, Camille flexing her hand a couple of times. “Sorry, baby.”

“You will be,” she winked. “That’s my hand job hand.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, releasing her hand and resting it to her thigh instead. Throughout their flight, they separately read, listened to music, chatted, and quietly laughed at Bella’s Instagram stories, she and Angel visiting Christ the Redeemer (‘We’re going to see big Jesus!’ as Bella had comically put it) and Angel’s utter ire in the wake of someone thinking that Bella was his daughter (‘Yo, that’s my WIFE, dude!’) the many stories giving them a lot of much needed comic relief.  

“Fucking hell,” EZ exclaimed quietly as they entered their hotel room not long after landing. “You didn’t tell me you were choosing something this nice.” Camille had put everything in order, telling him to leave all the travel and hotel arrangements to her, since he had enough to deal with, being silenced when he’d attempted to object.  

“Well, I figured since we’re going to be up here for two weeks, then we might as well be comfortable, if not a little luxurious.” If the surgery went well, then Doctor Shepherd anticipated that he’d be all set for discharge around five days post-surgery, but wanted him to remain close by for check-ups for a few weeks before she gave him the all clear to fly home. “So, what do you want to do? Just relax, or head out?”

EZ had said he wanted to see a few of the local Seattle landmarks while visiting, the obvious of the Space Needle as well as a visit to the beautiful natural beauty site of Snoqualmie Falls, but with two days until he was due to arrive at Grey-Sloan, they had plenty of time. EZ wasn’t keen to waste any of it, though, it would seem.

“Let’s head out now, shall we?” Camille changed out of her comfy sweats into a pair of jeans and Timberland boots, figuring sensible footwear would be the best choice, grabbing her jacket before they left the room.  

“Oh god, oh my...” The little squeak that preceded Camille’s turning to bury her face into EZ’s shoulder had him laughing, wrapping his arms around her. “It’s so high! I knew it would be, but...” She gasped a little, looking back out over Seattle, her little hands grasped onto his hoodie before she turned back to hide her face once more.  

“Look out over the bay, though, baby. It looks incredible,” he suggested, pointing towards the water.

She emerged for all of five seconds. “Oh yeah, beautiful. And return to hibernation.”  

He laughed hard, hugging her, taking pictures with his free hand. “You’re so fucking silly. You made no mention of being afraid of heights before now!”

“I didn’t think I was, but I’ve never been up a tall building. Well, actually that’s untrue. I went to the top of the Empire State Building when I was two, but I don’t remember it. Apparently, I hid in dad’s hair the entire time, so perhaps I should have seen this coming!”  

For her sake, he kept the visit short after snapping a couple more pictures, taking a few cute ones of them up there too before they headed to their next attraction, taking a boat tour across the harbour. Camille was much better on water than she was a few hundred feet off the ground. Keeping with the aquatic theme, they moved onto Seattle aquarium afterwards, EZ warmed by the sight of Camille watching her favourite fish, the puffers, her face alight with delight.  

She couldn’t help but notice, though, the fact that he seemed to be in a hurry to fit in as much as possible into their afternoon, only slowing in pace once they reached the restaurant that had been recommended highly to them by the friendly hotel staff, taking a seat outside in the beautiful, casual surroundings of Un Bein, waiting on their order.  

“Baby, are you alright?” She noticed thar he wasn’t still, his leg bouncing, his hand twitching, motion still running through him even though sat in place.  

“Yeah, yeah I’m good.”  

She knew by that point in their relationship when he was lying. She’d noticed all the little tells that would have given him away back when he was under the duress of his tumour now that he wasn’t, the way his eyes darted around for just a fraction of a moment before he concentrated on her. “EZ, that isn’t true. Come on, tell me the truth. I can’t understand the kind of nerves you must be going through with what you have looming, but I’ve noticed how you’ve been rushing through today, so you need to share that with me.”

He inhaled deeply through his nose, letting the breath out slowly, reaching for her hands. “I’m trying to fit in as many memories as I can for you, just in case the unthinkable happens. In case I go into that OR and die on the table. I didn’t want to say it in as many words, I know you’ve likely considered it a possibility too, should a complication arise. All I want is to fill these two days full of things you can cherish, just in case.”  

Her eyes become glassy in a second, her emotions rocked by his revelation. “Oh my god.”

“And now I’ve got you all upset, and I didn’t want that.” Getting up, he moved around to the empty chair beside her, pulling her into the comfort of his arms as soon as he was seated. “Come on, beautiful. It’s okay.”  

She cried softly against him, her hand curling around his neck, stroking, emerging from his embrace to kiss him. “It is, and it will be okay, but hearing that you’re doing this for me is more touching than I can even begin to explain. I love you so much.”

She didn’t need to explain either. EZ felt it strongly in every single moment that passed with her. He just hoped he would have years ahead of him to experience many, many more.  

[marveltrumpshate]

April 2023 MTH fills

Wow, can you believe it’s been half a year since the auction ended? We love all the works that have come in so far and are looking forward to more fills over the next six months.

The best way to see all the fills that have been shared with us is our monthly roundups tag or our #MTH-fills channel on our Discord, but you can also view them through the following methods:

Our Tumblr tags: 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022

Our AO3 collections: 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022 (only has works posted to AO3)

Completed works tag list

To find specific content, use our completed works tag lists above which includes instructions on how to search for a particular character, gen or romantic relationship, universe, and fanwork type. 

SOLO CHARACTERS

MARC SPECTOR

Kerr Avonsen/@kerravonsen - Moon Knight fingerless gloves for @yersifanel

GEN/PLATONIC RELATIONSHIPS

KOBIK & STEVE ROGERS

Embroidery by Rebecca/@embroid-away - Needlepoint watercolor mixed media embroidery of 616 Kobik and Steve telling Bucky they’re going to him from Secret Empire #10 (2017) (MTH 2021)

MATT MURDOCK & PETER PARKER

@not-madder-red - “For the Interim” (MCU Matt & Peter meet-ugly fic) for @spagbol99

PETER PARKER & TONY STARK

geeky/@geeky-writes - “Project: Pathfinder” (MCU fic where Peter tries to fill Steve’s shoes as an unofficial Avenger when Steve goes missing and Steve tries to make his way home) for @spagbol99​

SHIPS

BUCKY BARNES/CLINT BARTON/NATASHA ROMANOV

Nix - Art of 1872 Clint sitting on a bed, being held and kissed by Bucky and Natasha for lou2 (also on AO3)

BUCKY BARNES/HELMUT ZEMO

finiorian - Art of Bucky and Zemo holding hands in front of a fire on a night with a full moon for @ruquas

BUCKY BARNES/NATASHA ROMANOV

Eustacia Vye/@eustaciavye28 - “Heart Full of Bullets” (MCU Bucky/Nat TVA fix-it fic featuring Kate and Yelena’s friendship) for @drivingyelenabelova

CLINT BARTON/PHIL COULSON

ArielT and NickiB - “Second Time Around” (Clint/Coulson post-breakup undercover mission fic) for @winter-angst

CLINT BARTON/PHIL COULSON/NATASHA ROMANOV

Ravin/@shadowravin - Podfic of “Food Is Love - Chapter 3: Natasha Makes Tacos for Dinner," a domestic post-TWS Clint/Coulson/Natasha fic where Natasha cooks dinner and Clint helps for E_Greer

LINCOLN CAMPBELL/DAISY JOHNSON

CorinaLannister - “practice does indeed not make perfect" (Lincoln/Daisy undercover mission at a BDSM club fic) for @cassandrasfisher (MTH 2020)

LOKI/THOR

black_feather_fiction/@black-feather-fiction - “Your eternal sunshine versus my spotless mind” (MCU Loki/Thor amnesia fic) for Mech

STEVE ROGERS/TONY STARK

@artgroves - Art of 616 Tony tying Steve's bowtie as they get ready for a formal event for @nostalgicatsea, @betheflame, @captainneverever, @hundredthousands-art, @ishipallthings, @jules-of-the-crown, @magicasen, @massivespacewren, @sabrecmc, @sineala, and @t0nystark1er

geeky/@geeky-writes - “Project: Pathfinder” (MCU Steve/Tony fic where Peter tries to fill Steve’s shoes as an unofficial Avenger when Steve goes missing and Steve tries to make his way home) for @spagbol99

@gyrhs - “Alpine Glow” (Noir Steve and Tony having an intimate moment camping in the Swiss Alps during WWII) for @magicasen and @nostalgicatsea (also on AO3)

@onlymorelove - Podfic of “Breakwater," a post-TWS canon divergent Steve/Tony hurt/comfort fic where Steve drowns in the Potomac and comes back as a changed man for @becci-chan​

STEVEN GRANT/MARC SPECTOR

finiorian - Art of Steven solving a Rubik’s Cube while lying down on Marc’s lap for a1668320

[chthonicgodling]

🏳️‍🌈 PRIDE COLLECTION - ELYSIUM🏳️‍🌈 Part Four!

featuring: Ty [they/them, nb + bi] & Karpos [they/them, nb + bi]

june fun continues with the next round, another extremely random pairing to pose next to each other!! mind daemon Ty who’s  newly formally announced themselves as nonbinary shortly after the birth of theirs & fiancée Libby’s baby Vid;; and Karpos, one of the ghosts of Elysium, honorary Flower Shade as a former nymph-esque-mortal-demigod of springtime fruit or whatever before their untimely death, who has ✨always been✨ nonbinary, though they are among of the ranks of peak obscure background characters hence why prrob none of you know who tf they are- oopssss still cute though both of them!!

 DESIGNATED NOTES;;

🌈aaand once again a conspicuous absence of Ty’s aforementioned fiancée/WIFE TO BE ANY DAY NOW LITERALLY Libby, also of Karpos’ longtime boyfriend & actual Flower Shade Kalamos (ghost, the river reeds) - once againnnnn both of them just default into the bi umbrella so they get left out

🌈with pending marriage in the ol’ rpverse I have been circling through old convos like constantly and only just now realized after like 6 years that Ty’s (AND BEL’S) ears are supposed to be pierced so really most importantly this is an amendment picture to fix that detail forever after thank you

🌈quick worldbuild elaboration for the uninformed; Karpos the ghost was not actually turned into agriculture upon death hence the adjacent status to the Flower Shades, which have now been mentioned THREE times, so: Elysium, land of the blessed dead, chock full of shades (aka ghosts, spirits, etc), employs several specific shades as gardeners, due to their lucky statuses of dying as mortals and then being transformed into various flowers and plants by whichever deities had been in favor-granting mood (usually bfs and gfs). hence the little club called the Flower Shades!

🌈….Which I’m sure technically, due to Chal’s (yknow Libby’s sis, also engaged to Ty’s twinbrother) friendship with Gany, & Gany’s engagement to prominent Flower Shade Cinthy, &&&& the rest of the Flower Shades thus being around; probably at some point Karpos and Ty HAVE interacted but????? not in the sacred texts that I know of lmao sO??? Gosh they sure both are standing next to each other!!

stay tuned tomorrow for the next installment! Pride collection tag can be found here! Ty belongs to @fenixethekid!

[fbfh]

last first kiss - dustin henderson x reader fluff

wc: 1.3k

genre: FLUFF!!!!!!!!!!, friends to lovers, pining

pairing: dustin x gn reader

warnings: some suzie mentions, steve is bad at relationship advice (what's new), dustin is crushing hardcore on you, kissing in mike wheeler's basement, mentions of past encounters with demogorgons and monsters, allusions to events from seasons 1 - 3, ambiguous timeline but takes place after season 3, Will catches you kissing lol

summary: while waiting for your friends, you and dustin get to talking and he tells you that he broke up with suzie. he doesn't tell you he broke up with her because he's had a crush on you since the snowball, but maybe finally working up the nerve to kiss you will be a good way to confess.

song rec: young love - coby grant, last first kiss - one direction

a/n: i tried to fix a typo in a JJ fic and it got posted like a week early because tumblr is a hellsite :) anyway please enjoy this ty for the request it was literally so adorable!!!!!

tags: @yesv01 @hopefullhearts @littlewinter1917 @thatawkwardlittlefangirl  @sad-brunnettee @ilikemypolarbear @lubsana @cowboylikekelsey @paris-loves-dustin

With all the crazy things you and your friends have been through lately, especially Will, it seemed long overdue to surprise him with a fun night together. Mike, Dustin, and Lucas came up with a plan, roping you, Max, and El along with them. You were going to surprise Will with a DnD campaign Mike has been working on, and it’s finally ready. Mike and Lucas are distracting Will, dragging him around downtown, running errands and taking him on various wild goose chases. El and Max are getting the real supplies - snacks. That leaves you and Dustin right here in Mike’s basement, painting cardboard monsters and villagers so they’re ready by the time everyone gets back.

You’re sitting on the floor across from each other, putting the finishing touches on the goblin you’d been working on. You’re pretty much done, and ahead of schedule too. The rest of the party should be back pretty soon, then you can start playing. Even though you and Max don’t really play DnD, you’re still excited to hang out with everyone. 

You’ve been in the same class as the party since you started middle school, but you were in a different friend group. At the Snowball you couldn’t believe how rude your friend Stacey was to Dustin. You had always been nice to kids in other clubs and friend groups, and you thought she was the same. You told her off  and marched right over to ask him to dance. Ever since that night, Dustin has been harboring a huge crush on you. 

Nothing really came of it because you ran in different circles, until one night when you saw a demogorgon in your backyard. None of your friends believed you, so you didn’t know what to do or who to turn to, until you saw Dustin pass by in the hallway talking about different monsters and their hit points with Mike. 

They’re into all that nerdy fantasy stuff, you realized, they would probably be able to tell you what you saw if you described it to them. Once you started grilling them about monsters, they put two and two together pretty fast. Ever since then, you’d been right beside them through every crazy thing that’s happened in Hawkins. Now you’re here, sitting across from Dustin and talking while the paint on the last few villagers dries. 

“It’s so weird that me and Will are the only two in the group not dating someone,” you muse, fanning the wet paint with your hand before setting it down. 

“Yeah, well, I mean it’s three now, but…” he murmurs, and you look up at him, confused. 

“I thought you and Suzie-”

“Yeah, we, uh… I kinda broke up with her…” he picks at the carpet. 

“What happened?” you ask quietly, “Just if you want to talk, I mean,” you amend. Breakups are tricky, and you want him to know that you’re there for him. He looks around the room, not quite meeting your gaze. 

“Well, you know, her parents are really strict and everything,” he begins slowly, “and it’s a lot harder dating someone you can only see during summer, and can only talk to in secret, you know…” 

“Yeah, it sounds hard,” you agree. He fidgets with the brim of his baseball cap, then continues.

“I think it’s better to date someone you’re close to.” 

You look up at him. 

“Like, physically closer to, same area… geographically…” he sputters, correcting himself. 

“That makes sense.” you say with a chuckle. 

“Maybe…” he says quietly, “you know, someone who goes to the same school, or something…” he murmurs. You consider. 

“If you go to school together you could see them every day,” you smile. He’s reminded of all the times his day has been made just by passing you in the halls, the little wave and smile you greet him with. In spite of the dim lighting, the pink tint to his cheeks doesn’t slip past you. 

“Yeah,” he agrees, avoiding your eyes. “That would be nice.” 

“It sucks though, I know you really liked Suzie.” 

“Yeah,” he sighs, “she was really smart and pretty, she reminded me of you…” he trails off, eyes going wide. “Of… I mean, like, of what you would want… in a girlfriend…” 

Your heart flutters a little as he sputters out a response, hoping he saved it and you don’t know about his impossible to hide titanic sized crush on you. You look down, fighting butterflies, then back up at him with that sweet smile of yours. You place your hand on his arm. His heart pounds harder. 

“You’re… the best, Dustin. You’re going to find someone really, really lucky who sees that.” He can feel the sincerity of your words, and it makes him blush harder. The tips of his ears are pink as your words sink in. 

It’s quiet for a second.

You start to lower your hand so you can check if the paint is fully dry. Before you can, he leans in close to you, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. You stare at each other for a moment, breathless. You let out a flustered giggle, smiling like you do and making his heart do backflips. You place your hand on his cheek, leaning in to kiss him again. His eyes go wide, heart pounding, as you press your lips to his. 

He can’t believe this is happening. He couldn’t believe it when you asked him to dance at the Snowball, he couldn’t believe it that day you walked up to him between third and fourth period and asked him how much he knew about monsters, couldn’t believe it every time since then when you’d backed up his crazy plans and fought by his side. He never thought he had a chance with you, so when he met Suzie at camp, all of Steve’s terribly hypocritical dating advice about not getting hung up on one person who’s not into you like that came rushing back to him. Look at him now, getting to kiss you. 

You’re really flustered. More flustered than you’d expected to be. As your lips move against each other’s, you realize how much you really, really like Dustin. He’s always been so sincere and nice to you, and never two faced like some of your old friends. You’ve been there for each other through so much, you can count on each other for anything, and you’re overwhelmed by the feeling of how much you like him. He really is the best. You wonder why you didn’t realize how you feel sooner. 

“What?! No!” 

You pull away suddenly, heads whipping around to Will, who’s standing on the stairs.

“Not you too!” he cries. You both start talking over each other, scrambling for an explanation, but he cuts you off. 

“Look, just-” he sighs. “I won’t say anything.”

You let out a sigh of relief.

“But no pda!” he adds. You agree, thankful that didn’t go worse. He starts to go upstairs and you giggle, causing Dustin to giggle. You lean in to kiss him again. 

Behind you, Will pokes his head down, shooting Dustin a thumbs up, which he returns, clearly excited at this whole turn of events. Will knows how bad Dustin has had it for you for so long, how much this must mean to him. He’s really happy for him, for both of you. You’re like, the nicest person ever, and Dustin is one of his best friends. You deserve each other, he thinks. 

When you and Dustin finally pull away to catch your breath, he smiles bigger than you’ve ever seen him. He can’t believe this is real, that you like him back. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this happy. He can’t wait to tell Steve everything. 

[boo-nito-flakes]

Synopsis: With the deadline for your third year Photo Club exhibition fast approaching, you turn to old projects for inspiration. You get more than you bargained for, though, when that inspiration leads you to a volleyball training camp hosted by your school.

Rating: teen (swearing, a lot of kissing, implied sexual content)

Word count: 11.2k (part one), 9.9k (part two), 14.2k (part three)

Tags: f! reader, getting together, fluff and (light) angst, mostly fluff, mutual pining, friend drama, first love, summer training camp

are you busy? :You

Takka: depends

i think my zuiko is scratched :You

 Takka: hmmm this involves me how? 

ouch :You 

Takka: its easy to tell if your lens is scratched

Takka: you just look at it 

you do a better job removing them though :You 

Takka: lol so it is scratched…

Takka: and you’re trying to con me into doing your dirty work

Takka: they pay me at the lab to do this shit you know 

i can be at our spot with pork buns and a maybe scratched lens in an hour :You 

Takka: okay

It took a long time for the last message to come through. His messages all came with a slight delay—short enough that you knew he was holding his phone, but long enough to tell he stared hard at the screen before hitting send. That was how you sent each of yours, at least. Mostly because you chickened out and replaced the ‘ lets meet up and talk ’ with a lame excuse about a barely used camera lens (that actually was scratched… but you’d known about it for at least two months and deemed it not important enough to fix right away) at the last second. 

You flipped around on your bed until your feet were on the floor instead of propped against the wall. The longer you stared at his last message, the more your stomach hurt. Okay. One word that felt like a thousand. One word that felt like too much and not enough all at once. Takami was a lot of things, but he wasn’t stupid. As you tossed your bag together (it took you way longer than you would’ve liked to find the zuiko lens, the case buried beneath lost socks and uniform bows under your bed) you came to two realizations. 

Takami undoubtedly knew this meetup wasn’t just about a scratched lens.

And even if he didn’t, the conversation was still going to happen. It still needed to happen. 

“You’re heading out?” 

Startled, you dropped one of your sneakers and looked up from the genkan. You hadn’t heard your mom return from work for the day, and from the look of it—she hadn’t been home for more than a few minutes. Still dressed in office clothes, open laptop propped on a pillow, she looked at you from the couch with an arched eyebrow. 

As much as that eyebrow annoyed you, you were relieved to see it. A veritable sign of life after weeks of closed bedroom doors, muffled tears, and stacks of dirty dishes.

“Oh, yeah.” You waved at your bag, camera gear peeking from the top, in lieu of an adequate explanation and resumed tying your shoes.

She hummed a knowing sound and said, “Don’t stay out too late, okay? And take an umbrella, it’s supposed to rain later.”

“Really?” Skeptical, you peered over your shoulder to look through the curtains in the living room. There wasn’t a cloud in sight, the sky a perfect gradation of pinks and blues as the sun teased the horizon. 

“Yes, really. It’s summer storm season, don’t give me that look.”

“I’m not giving you any look,” you iterated, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth, “this is just what my face looks like.”

“So I’ve heard.” 

You didn’t really have the time to bicker with your mom about Tokyo weather patterns (even though the thought of staying in to do so instead of leaving to probably maybe end a three year friendship crossed your mind), and carrying around a cumbersome umbrella to make her happy was the least you could do. You fumbled around the front closet, draping your body over winter jackets and dusty board games, until you found a collapsible umbrella tucked away in a corner. Your mom’s voice, subdued by the capacious Narnia-ness of the front closet, drifted your way as you reemerged.

“—I’ll just get take away, then. Any preference?”

You thought about Takami and the pork buns you promised him; you were fairly certain neither of you would have an appetite for them, but you’d take them anyway.

“Whatever is fine,” you dismissed as you checked your phone for the time.

Behind schedule, of course. Not wanting to waste any more time (while simultaneously wanting to waste ALL the time), you rushed through a goodbye, waving your umbrella in your mom’s direction—door already propped half open with your foot. Beating Takami to your typical spot would take a miracle. At the very least, an empty train station and a perfectly timed order at the convivence market.

Your spot wasn’t special by any means, but you’d spent too many evenings drinking beer stolen borrowed from Itagaki’s brother or geeking out over photo comps on the dental clinic roof for it to be anything less than sacred in your eyes. Emiyo’s mom worked at the clinic and didn’t seem to notice or mind that her daughter not only duplicated the fire escape key but frequented the roof with her friends. The former, you assumed, since Emiyo and Itagaki also used the roof for… whatever it is they did alone (you knew exactly what they got up to alone—Emiyo was the type to kiss and tell) when they were desperate for a little privacy.

Some of the best times of your life were spent on the clinic’s roof. Bickering over who got to be in control of the music. Lying on your backs trying not to appear too buzzed from a single beer—being buzzed enough to pretend you could see stars through the city’s light pollution. Camera tricks and pretentious artsy photo compositions. The smell of developer powder and burnt ginger. Melted candy forgotten in the bottom of your bag. Scraped knees from the fire escape ladder (the third rung was perpetually loose) and sweaty collars. Long nights tempting fate, talking about everything and nothing until well past curfew.

 It was poetic, you decided, in a fucked up way that things with Takami would come to a head on the clinic roof. Your spot. 

The A-Line wasn’t busy and you only waited a few minutes for fresh pork buns, but the popped lock on the fire escape was as sure a sign as any that Takami arrived before you. Swallowing your heart—it worked its way up your throat on the short walk from the market to the clinic, a rapid thump, thump, thump that threatened to betray you with every step—you climbed to the rooftop.

Sure enough, Takami was waiting for you. Back propped against a humming air conditioning unit, one leg pressed up to his chest. He barely spared you a glance as you walked towards him.

“Hey,” you greeted once you were a little closer.

Nonchalance was hard when you were both annoyed and hurt by Takami’s cold shoulder. You deserved it, though, so you grit your teeth and kneeled beside him—eventually tucking one leg beneath your body as you tried to get comfortable. The grease stained bag of pork buns, paper curling from the steam, felt like a peace offering as you dangled it at arm’s length.

“I waited for fresh ones,” you said, waving the bag around until he took it from you. Hands free, you tugged your bag around and pulled out the rest of your 7-11 bounty: custard puffs and bottled teas (because there was no way you were getting through this conversation without sugar and caffeine). You nodded at the drink as you handed it to him. “This is the new flavor you really like, right?”

He rolled his eyes, twirling the neck between two fingers. “Yeah. Thanks.”

It was sarcastic and brassy. It grated against your ears, and even though you were able to suppress the urge to roll your eyes back you couldn’t help but bite back. 

“Fine.” You pinched the bottle out of his hands, finding way too much satisfaction in his rumbling protest. “If you’re going to be a dick, I’ll keep it for myself.”

He said your name despairingly. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. Ask nicely and maybe I’ll consider sharing.” 

A beat passed, tense and drawn out, before he scoffed, “Childish.”

Takami looked at you, his dark eyes unreadable. It was the first time he looked at you—really looked at you—all evening. Your skin crawled under the sudden scrutiny, but you held your ground. Raised an eyebrow and stared back. The seconds ticked by and then slowly, you raised the bottle—dangling it between your fingers the way Takami had—wiggling it back and forth in front of him.

“No, this would be childish,” you said pointedly, tutting when he reached for it. The noise he made didn’t sound like an apology, so you peeled the plastic seal with your nail and popped the top. “Or this,” you said before taking a sip, humming at the sweet fruit flavor. You met Takami’s eyes as you lowered the drink, quirking a brow to meet his furrowed ones. Because you could, you tugged at your eyelid and stuck your tongue out at him. “Or that. That was pretty childish.” 

The gulf between the two of you felt wider than it ever had, deep trenches carved by your hands. You were the liar, after all. Takami’s eyes were wide and incredulous, holding you in place. You were less sure of yourself under the weight of his stare this time. Blood pulsed in your ears like rushing water. Your shoulders dropped and you looked away, focusing on the rusted corner of the air conditioning unit.

Then—

 Takami laughed. He laughed . The bitter edge chipped away, leaving nothing but pure amusement. It swelled like frothy waves, as surprising as any summer storm. You looked up, questions swimming in your eyes.

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot,” he said, shaking his head a little.

Your grin cracked slow, eating away at some of the tension. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” You swirled the bottle between your fingers. “Are you going to ask nicely or am I finishing this?” 

“Like I want your spit juice.”

“Spit juice, huh?” you wiggled a brow and laughed, delighted at the pink hue coloring Takami’s cheeks. “Sounds kind of kinky.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled as he swiped the unopened tea from the bag at your side.

“What exactly is spit juice, anyway? Like that little dribble—”

 Takami groaned your name, more exasperated than flustered. “Stop, stop. We’re not talkin’ about this.” 

“Party pooper.”

 “Pervert,” he shot back, snickering, then gestured towards your bag. His eyes were softer—they were still guarded, giving Takami an edge that made him look older than he was—but there was a hint of tenderness in the way he looked at you. You only got a glimpse before he cast his eyes down. “Let me see how bad you desecrated this lens.”

“Now whose the dramatic one,” you muttered, setting the drink aside so you could grab the lens. “I didn’t desecrate it—it’s just a scratch.”

“Hmm. That’s what you said about that beaker of ammonia in the Chemistry Lab last year—”

“We agreed to not talk about that ever again!” 

“—right before ya’ broke it and spilled it on like, four other chemicals.”

“It was only three, and it was an accident.” 

“You made a toxic gas.” Takami said your name for emphasis, chuckling, “We had to evacuate the building.”

“It’s always ‘she almost killed us’ and never ‘thanks for getting us out of the rest of the exam’. Matsui gave everyone a pass on that unit… so you’re welcome .”

“Hayashi passed out.”

“I apologize to Himi-chan!” you exclaimed, narrowing your eyes. “And she feinted from the excitement, not the gas.” Around a bite of a now cold pork bun, you added, “She’s always been skittish and timid. You heard about the time she passed out during Calligraphy Club when someone got a papercut, right?”

Takami stopped squinting at your damaged lens to squint at you, his frown deepening by the second. “Your inability to take responsibility for things is truly amazin’.”

You stopped chewing, taken aback by the sudden callousness. It felt a hell of a lot like an olive branch snapping. Whiplash—sharp and dizzying. You forced yourself to swallow, clearing your throat before reiterating, “I said I apologized.”

“Two different things,” he murmured, gaze returning the lens temporarily before fluttering back to your face. “Sayin’ sorry and takin’ responsibility. They’re two different things.”

You didn’t need him to tell you that.

The tase in your mouth—all coagulated grease and tinny oyster sauce—soured. Of all people, you didn’t need him to tell you that . You needed to tell him. Should’ve told him long ago. Shouldn’t have kept pretending, even when it was painfully obviously to everyone you were lying through your teeth. 

“Takka—”

“How’d you scratch this, anyways?” he interrupted. 

Being dismissed hurt almost as much as the almost arrogant nonchalance he spoke to you with. You pressed the pads of your fingers to the ground, nails digging at the vinyl rooftop tiles, and exhaled through your nose. Maybe you deserved it… but Takami’s apathy stung, all the same.

“I don’t know.” Voice hoarse, you shrugged, “The flea market in Yurakucho?”

It felt like an eternity passed before he finally said, “That was months ago.”

Again, you shrugged. “Yeah.”

What else was there to say? The silence stretched. You could’ve fessed up—taken responsibility for the way your friendship had fallen apart (taken responsibility for a lot of things, really)—but the moment didn’t feel right. 

Instead, you sat and watched Takami remove the faint scratch on your lens. He rummaged around his messenger bag for the supplies before setting to task, dampening a fresh microfiber with rubbing alcohol. The cloth squeaked against the glass in short, delicate strokes. He inspected the lens, brows bunching as he spun it in the dimming evening light, before buffing the surface again. You’d seen Takami do the same routine enough times to know he was going purposefully slow.

His brows were still tense when he eventually handed you the lens. Absently, you chewed on your bottom lip as you pretended to check over his work. The glass sparked, smooth and unmarred. It hadn’t been all that scratched to begin with…a  superficial mark, neglected for months until you needed a convenient excuse. 

Takami sipped his tea while you hummed, but you could only stall for so long.

“Why did you message me?” The way Takami said your name made your chest ache . “Don’t give me some bullshit about the lens.” 

“It’s not about the lens.” You wiped your clammy palms on your bare knees, biting back a comment about how the lens really was scratched and needed fixed. It was an excuse; you both knew it. “I’m sorry, Takami.” 

You winced as you said it. 

Saying sorry and taking responsibility were two different things.

“I didn’t think you’d want to meet up if I didn’t have a reason. Stupid, now that I think about it. I should have just asked.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve been a really, really shitty friend. I’ve been ignoring you—ignoring everyone, I guess. Ignoring your feelings.”

The last part came out too fast, eyes drifting back to the rusty patch of metal on the air conditioning unit. Takami deserved more than your fumbling apology though, so you exhaled steadily through your nose and gathered your thoughts before meeting his gaze again.

“I thought if I pretended not to notice everything would eventually go back to normal. You’d stop liking me like that and everything would be cool between us again. Fuck, that sounds so selfish and like, messed up … and when I realized that wasn’t going to happen, I just… I just panicked? I don’t know. That’s so stupid.

“I backed myself in a corner pretending not to notice, and then suddenly I couldn’t pretend? I couldn’t lie …You’re just like, really fucking important to me, Takka. You’re one of my best friends… and that’s all of what I feel for you, Takami. So I’m sorry for being a bad friend and a shitty person and not saying anything. And I’m sorry about the way I’ve been treating you—its disrespectful and horrible, and God , you deserved to hear all of this so fucking long ago. I was so afraid of ruining our friendship—look at all the good that did me. It’s just… everything is changing so goddamn fast, I just want—want ed —things to stay normal. It was selfish and cruel, I’m sorry. 

Takami pretended not to notice your warbly, teary tone. Just like you pretended not to notice the way he winced every time you referred to him as just a friend.

You swiped your open palm across your cheeks. It took all your resolve not to look away—to return to that stupid, rusty spot on the air conditioning unit.

“I could have said somethin’.” Takami laced his fingers around his neck, his head rolling with a long sigh. Despondent and a little sheepish, he said, “I knew. You uh, were a little obvious about it. About knowin’. You’re a really, really bad actress.” He snorted, one shoulder shrugging, and added, “Much better at takin’ pictures.” 

You laughed, fresh tears tickling their way down your cheeks. “Ah shit, a career in cinema was the backup plan to my backup plan.” 

“Maybe silent cinema.”

“Wooow!” you gasped, wiping your tears before curling a dramatic fist to your chest. “That hurts, Takka.”

Something cracked between the two of you, tension pouring back in.

“Yeah, well…”

“Shit. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

Your name was brusque on his lips. “Just stop apologizin’ for a second and take a breath, okay?” He rubbed his neck and sighed, “It’s not like there is a right and wrong person here… it’s just a really messed up situation. I’m not blamin’ you for anything.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Tch.” Temporary silence lapsed, seconds long and drawn out, before he nudged his shoe against yours twice. It was a barely-there movement, but you still wanted to crawl out of your skin. “Hey. What did I just say?”

“Uh,” you sniffled, eyes bouncing in confusion as you replayed the last minutes of your conversation. The hum and rattle of the aging air conditioner harmonized with your sputtering.

Taking pity on you, Takami sighed—a long, tired noise that undoubtedly rattled his bones—and  ran a hand through his hair. “I know you’re really tryin’ to get me to hate you or somethin’, but I coulda said somthin’, too… I uh, shit . I didn’t even realize I liked you until you started datin’ Kenzou.”

Unable to hold back your curious surprise, you sucked in a breath. Until Kenzou? You dated Ken for just over a month the previous fall… weeks after your backyard make out session with Takami. Dating was a generous term to use for your relationship, too. Most of your time together was spent in his bedroom—Kenzou took breaks from playing songs on his guitar to shove his tongue down your throat and his hands down your pants.

“After you broke up I ah… I-I realized just bein’ your friend was okay. Until it wasn’t. All that stuff you said about not wantin’ to…ruin our friendship, I get it. Okay? So just stop thinkin’ all that shit about bein’ a bad person or whatever.”

Takami wasn’t supposed to be comforting you after you spilled your guts and fessed up to your bad behavior, but there he was—fessing up, too. Taking ownership of something that was your fault. Tenderness wasn’t Takka’s selling point; he was brash, arrogantly opinionated at times, and a self-proclaimed asshole.

Maybe part of you wanted Takami to hate you as much as you hated yourself. He sat across from you open and vulnerable, the leg drawn up against his chest bouncing anxiously. It was the most human you’d ever seen him, you thought. It was overwhelming. Something doleful cracked in your chest, and you squeezed your balled fist at your size to keep it contained.

“There’s more.”

You didn’t even realize it was you who said the words until Takami turned his head a little, as trepidatious as he was interested. There was no way to take the words back, not when there was both a dare and a question roaring in his eyes.

He deserved to know. (Both as your friend and as the person whose heart you’d so carelessly considered the last few months.) No, he needed to know—needed to hear it from you and not someone else. For what it was worth, Takami was one of your closest friends; that meant you respected him enough to spit the words out.

“I have a date next week.”

And yeah, maybe you did want him to hate you more than you hated yourself. Punishing yourself wasn’t enough. You wanted Takami mad—vitriolic and sharp, doling out a harsh penance that eased some of the restlessness in your heart—not crestfallen and exposed, flayed open for your twisted satisfaction.

After what felt like forever, Takami’s head bobbed once with a curt acknowledgement, your words settling on his shoulders. The soles of his sneakers scraped against the roof as he stood. “I uh… I think I’m gonna go now.”

You scrambled to your knees, suddenly feeling panicked. “Takami, wait—”

“I’m leavin’,” he said tersely, certitude punctuating his words.

The tone made you cringe, but you tried one more time. “Takka—”

Your name sounded harsh on his tongue, loud and biting. It was the complete opposite of how he’d been speaking to you. Surprised, you leaned back until you rested on your heels and blinked up at him. His chest heaved with something you didn’t want to understand . You forced yourself to stare at him, anyway, guilt gnawing at your windpipe until it felt impossible to breathe. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, jaw tense and tight. Instead of saying something— saying anything —he bent a little, swiping his bag from the ground, and walked away. He didn’t want you to follow him, so you didn’t.

It started raining on your walk to the station. Distant thunder started as you picked up the scraps of the neglected connivence market meal on the rooftop, but the storm hit much sooner than you anticipated. In the short time it took you to fumble with the umbrella (if you weren’t so busy wallowing in your own misery you would’ve had some snarky comment queued up about how your mom was always right about these types of things), you were absolutely soaked. The rain was warm, adding to the uncomfortably muggy weather instead of providing any kind of relief.

For a moment, you considered dunking beneath a business awning to wait out the rain. Summer storms never lasted all that long. In spite of the poor weather, the streets were still busy as the evening wound down, and there were plenty of people already taking refuge beneath covered signs and cement archways.

You desperately wanted to be at home, though. Preferably cuddled in bed in comfy pajamas, a Miyazaki film on the hand-me-down flat screen in the corner of your room, and a big bag of ume chips. You avoided the widening puddles on your way to the station, jumping around them as you nearly ran the rest of the distance. You swiped your PASMO a few minutes before the next train was set to arrive—and since a businessman in a very nice looking suit was scowling at you, you took the time to dry yourself (i.e., ring out your hair and fan your damp clothes from your body) and double-check the zuiko lens was still safely tucked away in the bottom of your bag.

By the time you made it home, you were absolutely miserable. Sticky and sweaty, fine hairs slicked to your face and neck, while still damp and shivering from the rain. You could only air dry so much, and the wet coldness from your clothes steadily sank into your clammy skin on the last part of your journey home. Not entirely caring about the noise or mess you were about to make, you flung the door open fully intent on sloshing your way straight to the bathroom.

But your mom was still sitting on the couch… and maybe worse, your dad’s face—slightly laggy and in okay at best resolution—stretched across her laptop screen.  The computer was positioned on the side table facing the couch where your mom sat in her pajamas, bright eyed and smiling around a slice of pizza. When she turned to look at you—a tease about the umbrella no doubt on the tip of her tongue—her smile morphed, the corners of her lips wavering down as she examined you. She said your name affectionately, knowingly , and you winced. You didn’t have the mental energy to pretend to be okay, nor did you particularly want to talk about the situation with your mom, so you busied yourself with the act of taking off your water-clogged shoes.

Your dad’s voice had a slight echo to it when he called your name. The laptop screen was fairly small, but you could tell he was in some ultra-beige, ultra-American hotel room. Behind him, the sun was starting to peek through the partially opened curtains.

“Come say hi to your dad!” he exclaimed, obviously not picking up on the mood.

(How could he? He was thousands and thousands of kilometers away in some stupid, boring looking hotel in America while you and your mom were just… there in Tokyo, always there in Tokyo , waiting for him to come back.)

Your mom chirped his name, shifting to her knees so she could bring the computer closer. “If she doesn’t already have a cold, she’ll get one standing around chatting. You two have a lot of catching up to do, right?”

You felt nauseous. You loved your dad, but the absolute last thing you wanted to do was talk to him.

“The different time zones makes it hard,” he explained. Like you didn’t already know this . “It’s almost six in the morning here in Durham.”

You didn’t know where Durham was; the word sounded fragmented and foreign as you repeated it in your head.

“There are places here that serve fried chicken with waffles for breakfast.” He said your name with a fondness that made tears prickle the corner of your eyes. It reminded you of being younger, tiny hand enveloped in his much larger one. Of sitting on his shoulders at the street fair and being twirled beneath falling Sakura petals.  “You would love it here.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek and cleared your throat, hoping it didn’t sound like you were on the verge of tears. “Send me pictures.”

“Ah, I’m not a talented photographer like you, musume,” he said, chuckling. “But I will make sure to take a few photos for you.”

Again, you felt a surge of tears.

“You should really dry off, sweetheart,” your mom instructed as she angled the laptop a little more towards her. “Why don’t you take a bath? I changed the water before mine earlier, so it’s all fresh and ready for you.”

You nodded, shoulders sagging with relief, and bowed a goodbye across the room at your dad before skittering down the hall to the bathroom. You undressed, clothes hitting the ground with a squelching thwack, and quickly showered—almost on auto-pilot. The bath water steamed when you peeled back the cover; you hissed as you toed the surface, temperature almost too hot to be relaxing. Almost . You grit your teeth and sank into the water, choosing to focus on the ripples of water and not the stream of silent tears that started the moment you were alone.

You could sort through your emotions later, you thought—self-effacing and dismissive. (Maybe much, much, much later. Maybe never.) You dunked your head beneath the water, holding your breath until white starbursts burst behind your eyelids. It was harder to tell if the wetness on your face was from the water or your own tears after that. Yeah, you’d deal with your baggage later. Things were always better after a bath, after all.

“Come on, Emiyo, stop messing around.” You glared at her reflection in the floor length mirror. She was too busy being a nosy menace to notice or care, sprawled out on her stomach on your bed as she thumbed through stacks of photo paper. You barely resisted stomping as you turned around, choosing instead to wave your arms dramatically at her while you pouted, “You’re supposed to help me get ready.”

For your date with Bokuto.

“Kind of hard to help when you’ve shot down every outfit I’ve picked out.”

“I’m not wearing long sleeves in August!”

“They’re bell sleeves— don’t make that face , there is totally a difference—and the shirt is so short it’s practically a crop top. August is one of the only months you can wear it.”

“Fine, fine. I’m not wearing it on a first date.” You snatched the shirt in question from the back of your desk chair and held it up to your body, nose wrinkling as you hummed, “Doesn’t it look too… I don’t know, desperate for a café date?”

Emiyo cackled, “I don’t know how to tell you this, but you are so far beyond desperate—”

“Hey!” you scowled at her reflection in the mirror.

“I’m teasing.” She bit her bottom lip, a giggle slipping through, then lifted two pinched fingers in the air. “Okay, I’m a litttttllle serious. But it’s like, kind of adorable. I can tell you really, really like this guy.”

A jolt of guilt forced you to look away. “Yeah.” 

The day after your rooftop conversation with Takami, you invited Emiyo over to come clean about your general shitty-ness. She showed up with an overnight bag slung over her shoulder and an almost comically large plastic bag from 7-11 stuffed with the finest junk food on the market. You were almost more nervous to talk to Emiyo than Takami. She was your best friend—your first real best friend—and one of the few people whose opinion you actually gave a shit about. Damaging your friendship with her was the last thing you wanted to do. You were a little clueless without her, to be honest.

You told her as much later in the night. You were both snuggled beneath the same blanket. Empty wrappers littered the ground by your bed, the menu screen flickered on the television, and your eyes were already puffy and red-rimmed from a long night of teary conversations. It was too late to have any rational, coherent thoughts. Which is maybe why Emiyo just laughed and squeezed you into a hug, muttering that you were a little clueless with her—without her you’d be a risk to society, and really she was just doing a public service—the most important kind, she iterated, poking your cheek—by being your friend for the rest of your lives.

“Stop making that face and come over here.”

Emiyo waved an impassive hand in the air as she shifted to her knees, her focus on the messy photo stacks on the bed.

“I’m not making any face,” you pouted, definitely still making a face as you crossed the room with your arms crossed. “This is just what I look like.”

“Yeah, right.” She rolled her eyes. “It’ll get stuck like that if you keep saying that, you know.”

You stuck your tongue out and said, “Good.”

“You say that now,” Emiyo clicked her teeth before letting out a little ‘ ah-ha! ’, thrusting one of the photos from the disposable camera in front of you.

Unlike most of the pictures on the bed, this one was in color, fluorescent gym lights giving it a too-yellow tint. Bokuto sat at your side, your shoulders touching and arms intertwined. It was hard to look away from the sight of Bokuto’s face so close to yours, both of your cheeks flush—both wearing goofy, too big smiles.

You had a feeling your face looked a lot like it did in the photo. Ruddy cheeks, big pupils, unfocused lovesick smile.

“You’re staring,” Emiyo laughed, bopping you on the nose. Before you could squeak out a protest, she added, “It’s cute. You’re cute. He’s cute .”

“Yeah,” you breathed.

“And an athlete, huh?” The teasing quality to her voice wavered when she bumped your shoulder and admitted, “You’ve never liked guys like that before. I thought your type was emotionally unavailable and artsy.”

“I don’t have a type! ” you scoffed.

Emiyo raised an eyebrow and started listing names. Ida. The first-year you passed at the school gates every morning who, in your defense, had a really cool hairstyle. Literally everyone in the Taiko Club… and everyone in Art Club. Your second-year class president (his pouty-scowl was absolutely devastating to the female population at your school). Your first boyfriend—the one who broke your heart, the one who led to that night with Takami. You cut her off before she finished articulating the syllables of his name.

“Fine. Maybe I have— had a type. But this is different. Bo is different. Good different. Like…he’s really intense, but in a way that makes me feel all fluttery and gaahhh inside. He doesn’t feel like, real, sometimes.”

Emiyo’s lips twitched. She said your name a little hesitantly. “If you keep thinking like that, you’re setting yourself up for disappointment. Bokuto is a real person. Actually, he’s a teenage boy so I don’t even know if he counts as a person yet. Fluttery and gaahhh is like, fucking amazing for you, but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to make mistakes.”

“I know, I know that. He’s always making mistakes—it’s one of the things I like about him, actually… he doesn’t try to be anyone but himself. Makes me feel like… like it’s okay to be myself, too.”

Emiyo scoffed incredulously, “Of course it’s okay to be yourself.”

“I know that, it’s just… hard sometimes.”

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled. It wasn’t exactly a lie: knowing you could talk to her and actually talking to her were two totally separate things.

“Like, I know you feel guilty about the whole Takami situation, but you’re my best friend—I know you, I know how you process things. Don’t you think I would’ve kept pushing if I realized you were ready to deal with it? You would have freaked if I crowded you… but maybe I should have.”

“Do you think Takka is ever going to forgive me?”

She clicked her teeth. “There’s nothing to forgive—”

“I’ve been rude and insensitive and like, generally the worst.”

“I say this with nothing but love but—,” she sighed your name, a teasing smile curling at the corners of her mouth, “you’re so stupidly dramatic sometimes. We’ve already talked about this, right? You don’t have to keep apologizing. It’s okay, I get it.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“You aren’t going to make everyone happy all the time. It’s your life,” Emiyo said your name, “and at a certain point, you have to stop thinking about everyone else and think about you. You said you like Bokuto because he makes you feel like it’s okay to be yourself, right? So be yourself.”

You forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

“Was that a ‘Emiyo I am going to wear the cute crop top on my date’ kind of yeah okay?”

“I’m not wearing the crop top,” you laughed, smile much more genuine. Before she could protest, you leaned over and bumped her shoulder with yours. With a sing-song tone to your voice, you conceded, “Buuttttt, I promise not to complain about whatever it is you pick out.”

Emiyo pretended to think about it for a few long seconds (and she had the audacity to call you dramatic when she sat there, humming and tapping her chin) before her spine straightened and she exclaimed, “Deal!”

Nervously, you fiddled with the strap of your bag as you scanned the wave of people spilling onto the platform. The crowd was dense, bodies bumping together as they fanned out. Despite being a perpetually tardy person, you arrived at the station entrance a whole twenty minutes earlier than you’d agreed to meet with Bokuto. You could only pretend to be interested in your phone for so long (there was no way you played that new trendy mobile game for more than two minutes, tops…) before you took to people-watching— people waiting? — in the hopes you’d catch a familiar shock of two-toned hair.

He hadn’t been in the first wave of people pulsing from the entrance, and you really didn’t expect him to be early. Even though the volleyball team had a few days off from mandatory practice following the training camp, Bokuto’s personal routine included daily cardio and strength training. A mix of roadwork and weights. It’s just what the ace does , he’d said the night before—laughter crackling over the phone. You couldn’t help but think it was just what Bokuto did. He did that lot, assumed what was normal for him wasn’t extra-ordinary for somebody else.

So you really shouldn’t have been surprised to see him appear at mouth of the station nearly as early as you were, almost like you’d summoned him by sheer will. 

You noticed each other almost at the same time, a stuttering grin pulling at Bokuto’s lips while he waved his arms in big circles to greet you. It was the first time you’d seen him dressed in something other than a uniform or training clothes, you realized belatedly. 

You should’ve prepared yourself better for the sight of him in a collared short sleeve shirt the color of cornflowers, buttons undone at the neck, and a pair of khaki shorts that hit right above his knees. His hair was spiked, swaying with his movements as he practically danced through the crowd–twisting around oblivious salarymen, dodging the foam ball a kid threw on the ground in the middle of a tantrum, swerving to avoid a group of tourists in bucket hats who stopped in the most inconvenient place to take a group photo. 

And then he was in front of you. Close enough to touch, close enough to–

Bokuto’s eyes shined bright when he said your name, arms wrapping around you before you could register what was happening. You returned the hug on instinct, your hands sliding up his back in a way that felt so… intimate. If you hadn’t missed him so much, you would’ve been mortified at the little hum you let out at the feeling. He squeezed you hard–too hard–for half a second, like he was making sure you were really there, before his grip loosened, fingers hooking at your lower back to keep you rooted against his chest.

You took advantage of your face being pressed into his chest (you’d seen Bokuto in enough athletic wear to consider it a blessing, honestly) and breathed in his smell, all clean with the faintest scent of coconut. Absently, your fingers climbed until you felt the baby hairs at the base of his neck. 

It took you way too long to realize you were practically groping him in a very public place, but before your embarrassment could fully settle in the soles of your feet Bokuto squeezed you one more time and took a step backwards.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he grinned, gaze momentarily sliding to your lips. 

You pressed your nails into your palm to keep from kissing him. If you weren’t already getting the stink eye from a tutting older woman nearby you would have kissed him; you would lean up on your toes and kiss him the way you’d been dreaming about for days. A proper kiss, not a rushed peck goodbye or a stolen moment in front of your peers. A kiss that sat in your belly, warming you all the way to your toes. A kiss you’d think about alone at night. A kiss that said I know, I’m here, I feel it too.  

Instead, you met his smile with one of your own. “Hi.” 

A beat of silence stretched as the two of you stared at one another and then–

“You look–”

“I hope–”

Bokuto laughed as your voices overlapped, eyes crinkling at the corner. “Sorry, you first.”

“Oh, ah, I was just going to say I hope you had an okay trip in–this station is extra busy during the summer. I kinda avoid it at all costs, actually.”

It was always busy with professionals rushing from one place to another, to jobs you didn’t understand and cold office buildings that overwhelmed the part of you that desperately looked for telephone lines and open skies. During the summer months, though, school kids and groups of teens clogged the platform. Families on day trips filled the cracks and barely there crevases on the train. Tourists flooded the line, all paper maps and shopping bags. It was closest to the cafe, though.

“It wasn’t too bad. I don’t come to this part of the city often, so I tried to enjoy the ride.” He flashed a smile before cheekily adding, “Plus, I knew you would be waiting for me.”

“You knew , huh?” you teased, cheeks warm. The matching blush that rose-tinted Bokuto’s face gave you a headrush, a mix of heady confidence and adrenaline. Sure, you were easily riled up if Bokuto was involved, but there was something almost overwhelming knowing he felt the same way. “I guess now is a good time to tell you I’m like, criminally late to everything. I’ve been lectured by so many teachers about my tardiness, I swear I have their disappointed speeches memorized. It’s honestly a miracle I’m early today.”

Honestly a miracle , you said, as if you hadn’t begged Emiyo to show up bright and early to help you get ready. Yeah, you’d definitely be lost without her. 

“I guess I’m lucky, then,” Bokuto chuckled.

At that, you leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. It was a chaste kiss, all things considered, but you couldn’t wait a second longer. Especially when he looked at you with such a fond twinkle in his eyes. 

“And,” you admitted as you rocked your feet back, “I was excited to see you.”

“ Definitely lucky,” he said, fingers coming up to briefly touch his cheek. “I was excited to see you, too, Kuma-chan.” The corners of his lips curled up almost impishly, and his voice shifted an octave lower when he added, “You’re so pretty; you look so good in that dress.”

Emiyo tried one last time to get you to wear the cropped shirt with the flowy sleeves before pulling a black mini dress with buttons down the front and a plain white tee to go under it from your closet. It was a short dress, and you usually wore a pair of tights with the dress but Emiyo promised it was better without them. Instead, the two of you agreed on a ruffly white pair of ankle socks beneath your Keds. 

If the way Bokuto looked at you was any indication, she was right. 

The way his eyes moved over your body gave you goosebumps. A shiver inched down your spine, a tingle settling at the small of your back where Bokuto’s hand rested during your hug. Suddenly, you wanted to be anywhere but the busy street. You wanted his hands back on your waist, his mouth on yours. You wanted to feel calloused fingers on bare skin, the wet warmth of his tongue against your own. You wanted Bokuto more than you could remember ever wanting anything. 

You found your voice long enough to say, “Thank you, you look good, too.” You let yourself look at him the way he looked at you (borderline indecent) and teased, “I do kind of miss the knee pads.”

“My knee pads?” he questioned, head canting to the side. There was a heavy, dazed look in his eyes that made your stomach swoop when you met his gaze. 

“Yeah, they ah…they make your legs look really good. Like, wow, you know? I mean–” 

“Kuma-chan.” It was half a whine, half a laugh. Bokuto covered his red face with a hand. “ Hah .” 

“Sorry, sorry!” 

You really hadn’t meant to say the leg part out loud, but your mouth had a mind of its own, apparently. And it wasn’t like you were lying. Embarrassing as it was to admit, it was true. You had the photos from the training camp in your bag to prove just how much of your time was spent daydreaming about Bokuto (and his thighs).

“Don’t apologize, it’s just ah, a lot hearing you say that.” He reached for your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles before he laced your fingers together. Voice fervid, Bokuto said your name. “I really like you.”

“I really like you, too.” 

The words didn’t seem to truly capture the way you felt about Koutarou, but then again… you weren’t sure if words ever could capture the lightning in a bottle that was your name on his tongue, his hand in yours, the future ebullient and so sure as it twinkled in the depths of his gemstone eyes. 

Someday, you would find the words. 

Someday, you would tell him.

Someday, you knew, Bokuto would still be by your side.

So you smiled up at him as you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his chapped lips, just long enough to feel the puff of his breath on your mouth, and squeezed his hand as your heels rocked back on the concrete. Someday , you promised. 

A promise not just to Bokuto but to yourself. Someday, you would figure things out. Someday, you would have words for all the emotions bubbling in your stomach. Someday didn’t have to be today, or tomorrow, or the next day. Growing up fucking terrified you. Ominous, like a black cloud looming in the skyline, the future never failed to send anxious shivers down your spine. It was hard not to spiral when you thought about life after graduation. And maybe… maybe it was okay to be freaked out. Maybe it was okay to not know. Maybe part of growing up was figuring it out as you went. 

For now, you were happy just to be with Bokuto. You kissed him again because you could, and this time when your feet touched the ground you felt less nervous than you had in days. 

“We should probably get going so we don’t miss our reservation at the cafe,” you said, chagrinned. As much as you wanted to stay on the street corner – prying eyes be damned, at this point – and kiss Bokuto until your lips were swollen and red, you would probably only last another thirty minutes (the thought of kissing Bokuto for thirty minutes made your whole body warm) before you got hangry. Maybe a little longer any other day, but you were so nervous for the date you skipped breakfast and the lack of sugar in your system was seriously a threat for anyone and everyone within a three block radius. 

Bokuto’s cheeks were flush, his eyes wet-rimmed and twinkling. “Can we kiss more there?” 

You snorted, and when you attempted to drop his hand in embarrassment so you could cover your mouth, Bokuto refused to let go. He squeezed harder, letting you wiggle your arms in a pitiful attempt to escape. Instead, you squawked your mortification as his playful laughter reverberated down through your joined fingers. 

Bokuto had a personal training regime and a body toned by years of athleticism. There was no chance you were winning your weird mid-air arm wrestling contest, so after an appropriate period of dramatic wailing, you huffed your defeat. Wordlessly, and with your hands still entwined, you started walking towards the cafe. 

The two of you made it half a block before Bokuto asked, “Are you mad?” 

The question took you by surprise. Sure, you were kinda embarrassed he got you all flustered on a city street corner, but his teasing had you far from mad. Maybe the theatrics were too much. You slowed your pace a beat, pulling your lip into your mouth when you looked over and saw the worried look on his face. A lack of confidence where there was just bright excitement. Yeah… the theatrics were definitely too much, at least without reassurance. A sick feeling settled in your stomach seeing Bokuto upset, knowing you were the cause. 

Once, he called you late. Whisper in the bathroom, voices thick with sleep late. Cuddled under your blanket you listened as he apologized for calling, for bothering you, but he couldn’t sleep because he was so upset with himself for something that happened at practice. He forgot, he said. He got in his own head, he said. Everybody hated him, he said. He got like this sometimes, he said, apologizing for what felt like the hundredth time. Your jaw was tight, clenched the entire time he spoke in a tiny, crackled voice, but you cleared your throat and told him it was okay, sometimes you got like that too. You told him he was good – he was the ace, after all. That nobody hated him, especially not his teammates. You whispered kind words over and over again, wishing you were there with him, wanting nothing more than to hug him until he felt okay again. 

This time, you were with him. 

You squeezed his hand and smiled at him as you assured, “I’m definitely not mad.”

“So… you’re not mad?” he asked, repeating the words slowly. His eyebrow was still quirked, but the rest of the tension on his face was gone.

“At you? No.” Because you couldn’t help yourself and because you could, you teased, “That we can’t kiss more at the cafe? Absolutely. Am I still going to try?”

You shrugged, a coy grin playing at your lips.  

It was only fair to fluster him back. (And he got flustered, all right; a ‘haah’ slipping through his freshly wetted lips before he chewed on the bottom one, face getting redder by the second.) Flirting with Bokuto was fun . He was good, so so good, and you wanted him to know. He wore his emotions, for better or worse, and watching him react to you … yeah, you wanted him to know you felt it, too. The warm heat down your spine. The itchiness in your palms. The restlessness thumping low in your stomach. It was all because of him, because he made you feel good and happy and loved. 

Someday, the two of you would be alone enough to kiss him the way you wanted.

Someday, the two of you would be alone enough to touch, to sink to the bed and let your hands explore.

Someday, the two of you would be alone and you would let him touch you the way you imagined when you were in bed, fingers between your thighs. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” you said belatedly, “I’m sorry. Sometimes I take things, uh, a little too far? No, yeah, I definitely take things too far sometimes.”

“I know. I mean, I know you weren’t trying to upset me.” He took a second before admitting, “I was so nervous for our date, I barely slept last night. And this morning, Akaashi spent two hours getting me to come out of the bathroom. You’re just so nice and cute and talented, I don’t want to… to mess anything up. And… and don’t apologize for being yourself. I like you.”

You pressed your free arm against your face and whined his name, smiling as you groaned, “S’not fair to say things like that.”

“You started it!”

Well, you couldn’t argue that point. You could, however, pout about it. 

“Like I wasn’t gonna kiss my boyfriend when he’s standing there–what?”

“Hey, hey, hey…,” Bokuto stopped suddenly, mouth opening and closing for a few wild, desperate seconds before he squeaked, “I’m your boyfriend?”

Oh. Oh . 

You kissed in the shadows of the gym at his training camp and confessed under a humming light post, but you never actually put words to your relationship. Bokuto hadn’t been lying when he said he couldn’t text much during the camp, and he only messaged you a few times in between its conclusion and your date. Small things, like confirming their reservation and a reminder to bring the stacks of photos they’d yet to look through together. Not big things–emotion things, relationship-defining things.

A flutter of panic stuck to your insides. You let yourself wallow in it for all of three seconds before reminding yourself it didn’t have to be a big thing. Someday, it could be a big thing. But today, it could just be the two of you, flustered and bright-eyed. 

“Ah… yes? I mean…,”As bravely as you could, you asked, “Koutarou, will you be my boyfriend?”

You’d always been on the other side of the confession, blushing as you nodded your acceptance. There was something about the thrill of asking, the words coming out easier than you thought they would. Easier when you got to watch Bokuto tilt his head back, groaning into the sky. You couldn’t see his face, but the tips of his ears were redder than you’d ever seen before. He muttered something you couldn’t quite decipher before looking at you, citrine eyes big and glossy. When he grinned, it was sure-fire, and an unshakeable confidence rounded his features. It was a look, you realized, you’d seen from the sidelines of the court. 

“Yeah,” he said your name and it sounded like liquid sugar, like the sweetest honey, “I will.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he mimicked, head bobbing, “Yeah, I’m going to be the best boyfriend there is, Kuma-chan.”

You giggled, not caring much about how silly or childish it sounded, and leaned into his side. Something you could only describe as content settled in your stomach, nestling between the butterflies. “Why doesn’t the best boyfriend there is tell me about the rest of camp? I want to hear all about it.”

Bike horns chirped, car tires squealed, and the summer breeze tickled the tops of trees into the slightest breeze. You and Bokuto walked slowly, hands locked, lost in each other more than the city. People streamed around you, families and tourists and businessmen and you were pretty sure a classmate waved at you. If you remembered (you wouldn’t), you’d apologize when the school year started again.

Bokuto told you about each match, a string of names woven into each story already bursting at the seams. You followed the best you could, nodding along as you laughed and gasped, piecing the games together behind your eyes. When he got to the last match Fukurodani played against Karasuno his voice slipped, and he recounted how much he was in his head as a result of the first year duo’s eccentric gameplay. The dejected tone stuttered away with a confident fist pump and a detailed play-by-play of the match, culminating in his scoring of the final point.

 He was telling you about the BBQ hosted for the teams–something about a meat war with Hinata–when you arrived at the cafe. Miraculously, you were on time for your reservation. You checked in and ordered (two espresso banana milkshakes, three orders of the specialty bear dango, and a ginger pork sandwich to share), both you and Bokuto ‘oohing’ and ‘aahhhing’ at the menu and trendy decor as you were seated in a cozy booth. 

Before you could even tuck your messenger bag next to you, Bokuto said your name excitedly. “You remembered to bring the pictures, right?”

“You want to look at them right now?” 

“Of course,” he whined, sliding into the seat. If there wasn’t a table between the two of you, you would’ve leaned over and kissed him. You gripped the fraying edge of your bag instead. “Everyone was talking about how cool the pictures were, I wanted to look so bad.”

“You didn't?” you asked, genuinely surprised.

“Okay, maybe I looked at some of them,” he admitted, “but I couldn’t help myself! It was torture, listening to people talk about how talented you are and how badass the pictures are and how cute–”

“Okay, okay,” you interrupted, face warming. “I get it. I don’t mind; I told you to look at them.” You were proud of the photos you shared. You wanted him to see them. Maybe, just maybe, you wanted him to be proud of you too. “Plus, I ah… I have extra ones. Of just us?”

Excitement jumped his features. “Really?”

You hummed, pulling two overstuffed photo envelopes out of your bag. Bokuto propped his elbows on the table, tucking his chin in the palms of his hands, and watched quietly as you pulled the glossy photos from their sleeves. 

You thumbed the first photo in the stack from the Nekoma camp, a too-dark shot of Lev bent at the knees with a fierce expression on his face. Despite being taken only a few weeks ago, it felt like a lifetime had passed since you first stepped into the gym. You’d learned so much about taking good sports photos since then. Learned so much about volleyball, in general. The Nekoma camp photos were good, but the Shinzen camp photos were… well, they were fucking amazing. 

You were proud of almost every photo you took (even the blurry, out of focus, ill lit, accidental shots), but looking at the camp proofs the first time, you got goosebumps. Some of the photos were okay. Others needed work – a better angle, different lighting. But mostly, the photos gave you a heady feeling of nostalgia and something… well, something incredible and indescribable. It felt like being there – on the court, not behind a camera. Squeaking shoes. Strong menthol. Rallying cries to push, to not mind. Memories that weren’t necessarily yours, just stolen through your viewfinder, pulsed beneath your fingertips. You were there . 

Bokuto looked carefully at each photo, much quieter than you anticipated. If it weren’t for the small smile creasing the corner of his lips you would have been worried he didn’t like them. You didn’t mean to stare… except, you kind of did. Watching him was quickly becoming your favorite pastime. Koutarou was becoming your favorite pastime. 

Every now and then he’d hum a little, looking up at you through his lashes to offer praising words that kept your cheeks stained red. He chuckled once, a low rumbling noise (you definitely didn’t squirm in your chair at the sound), flipping a photo of Hinata around to ask how you managed to make him look so tall. 

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” you teased, a little breathless still from the way his laugh felt on your skin. “Trade secret, and all.”

There was nothing gentle about Bokuto’s laugh this time; it was boisterous, bouncing to fill every corner in the cafe. Your name tangled in his guffaw. It had never sounded better. You could feel eyes on you, but you hardly cared. Not when Bokuto looked at you with crinkling eyes and a toothy smile. Especially not when his ankles hooked around yours under the table. A breath stuttered in your chest at the gesture. He was so… infuriatingly cute and you liked him so, so much. 

His grin grew, like he knew what you were thinking. 

“Would you feel bad about it, at least?”

“And people think I’m dramatic,” you pouted, bumping your legs together more as you leaned forward in your chair to lean an elbow against the table. 

Bokuto was your boyfriend, after all. You were allowed to touch him. He wanted you to touch him. A lot, if the blooming color on his cheeks was any indication. Bokuto leaned into the touch, his legs tightening around yours. You were so much closer like this: calves pressed together, his fine hairs tickling against your bare skin. When he moved his muscles flexed, and you felt that too. If you weren’t already so love drunk on him you would’ve at least pretended to be embarrassed at how flush the contact got you. Instead, you stretched a hand across the table and linked your pinkies together. 

Your legs were still tangled when a server came by with your order, balancing the tray on the edge of the photo covered table. Bokuto wasn’t all that far in the stack; apparently, it was hard to flip through photos while holding hands. Who knew? The photos were put to the side in favor of espresso banana milkshakes and dango so cute you almost felt bad for eating it. 

Bokuto held one up, your name a syrupy laugh on his tongue, and said, “It looks just like you!” 

“Bo-kun,” you scoffed; the delivery was a lot less annoyed sounding when it was mixed with a giggle. “So mean.” 

“What are you talking about? It’s so cute!” He leaned across the table, wiggling it closer to your face. “Look! This one even has a little grumpy face. It really does look just like you.” Before you could make another indignant noise, he grinned and said, “My Kuma-chan.” 

My Kuma-chan. 

It felt different than a cutesy little pet name or even your given name. Your body prickled, flashing hot all over, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek. You repeated it in your head over and over again – my Kuma-chan, my Kuma-chan, my Kuma-chan – feeling more agog with each chant. There was something about the gentle possessiveness, the way he claimed you as his so easily, that kept your heart beating a steady rhythm in your chest. 

It made you feel fluttery and warm and so goddamn alive you couldn’t help yourself – you wanted to kiss him, right there in the un-privacy of your booth in the corner of the cafe. 

So you did.

It was quick and chaste, his chapped lips warm against yours, but your toes still curled in your shoes. It was, perhaps, the best kiss of your life. (It was, at the very least, right up there with the kiss you shared under the flickering campus lights when he walked you to Reo’s car.) Bokuto chased your lips when you pulled away, looking a little mystified as he muttered your name.

You offered him a smile… and bit the ear off one of the bear dango still dangling in his hand. 

The dazed look on Bokuto’s face shifted to surprise and then disbelief before settling on amusement. “Wow. My girlfriend is a cannibal.”

“That sounds like it could be a manga,” you snorted as you sat back down.

“It kind of does,” he agreed before biting the other ear of the dango, humming his approval. “Oh wow, this is good!”

“Who's the cannibal now?” 

“Hey, hey, hey! You were a cannibal before me, so it’s only fair.”

“That doesn’t make, like, any sense.” You were feeling a little reckless and way too emboldened from just his presence. Wanting to see how far you could push your luck, you hooked your legs together again and teased, “C’mon, Bo, just say you wanted to taste me.” 

It was supposed to be a playful, flirty comment. You weren’t prepared for how suggestive the words sounded rolling from your tongue. The words were heavy as they swirled between the two of you. Even from across the table, you could hear a breath stutter in Bokuto’s throat. It wobbled on the exhale, a soft little puff that kept the corners of his mouth curled. You wanted to kiss him again. Tuck your hands in the back of his pants to keep him close to you. 

Glossy yellow eyes turned towards your lips. You were biting on your bottom lip so hard you swore you tasted blood–you let up under his gaze, wetting the spot until it felt tender. 

“Yeah, okay.” Bokuto’s head bobbed once; you tried in vain not to watch the movement of his neck as he slowly swallowed. You wanted to trace the motion with your lips. He shrugged a shoulder and grinned, tone unapologetic when he said, “I want to taste you, Kuma-chan. You got me.” Your body somehow got warmer. You didn’t think it was possible. “But I don’t want to get kicked out of this cafe. Besides–we still have some pictures to look through.”

You lost track of time somewhere between Bokuto crying actual tears as he tasted the milkshake and him demanding you get your camera out of your bag to take a commemorative photo of the two of you on your first date. (He stumbled over the word but wore a smirk so proud you couldn’t help but smile into your shoulder. And when you propped your camera on the edge of an empty booth behind you, self-timer set, Bokuto rewarded you with a kiss on the cheek as the photo snapped.) Being with Bokuto made you feel kind of weightless. And it was hard to care about much of anything, time included, when he smiled at you. 

Bo provided commentary as he flipped through the photos. Clicking his teeth at ones snapped during matches Furkurodani lost. Beaming brightly at those where he or his friends looked particularly cool. Pressing his mouth into his palm shyly as he looked through the photos from Gym 3, his segmented limbs and your flushed, moony faces pressed close under the fluorescent lights. He asked to keep the one of your fingers intertwined, hands resting on the spot where his knee-pad clad leg bumped against your jean shorts. When you told him you had the negatives and could print more copies for yourself, he thumbed through the stack and pulled out two more photos–both of the two of you molded to each other’s side. 

Neither of you were particularly eager to leave, but the host was giving you the type of stink eye reserved for guests who way overstayed their welcomes. As you packed your bag, you realized the cafe was a lot busier than you remembered it being when you arrived. Oops. At this point you didn’t really care if half of Tokyo saw you being disgustingly lovesick with Bokuto in the middle of a cafe. You did, however, feel bad about annoying the staff. You forced your way through a few red faced ‘thank you’s’ on the way out of the building. With a confidence he didn’t have at the beginning of your date, Bokuto reached for your hand as the two of you emerged onto the sidewalk. 

After a few silent steps he admitted, “I don’t want this date to be over yet.”

You didn’t either. 

“There’s a halfway decent arcade nearby,” you said entirely too quickly, “that has a few DDR machines.”

“DDR?” His eyebrows hopped with surprise, at first, then excitement. You’d told him about the hours you and your friends spent playing the dancing game. For as clumsy and uncoordinated as you tended to be in most aspects of life, you were pretty fucking good at arcade games. Even rhythm games … no, especially rhythm games. Not even Itagaki could beat your DDR high score, and he was stupidly good at video games. (Something you never failed to mention when the opportunity presented itself.) Ever since he heard you were the best in your friend group, he wanted to play against you. There was a challenging glint in his eyes that defied the hesitancy in his voice. “Really? Are you sure?” 

You bumped your shoulder into his arm and teased, “Duh. What, scared you’re gonna lose?” 

“No, not really. It’s just… you’re wearing a dress.”

You rolled your eyes. “I can still kick your ass in a dress.”

“You’re going to try, yeah,” he rebuffed casually. Almost too casually, like he already had the win secured. You were going to really, really enjoy absolutely demolishing him in points. The hand that wasn’t holding yours waved in the air in a rambling motion, like he was trying to find the right way to phrase whatever was ailing him. “Aren’t you worried about um… well, it’s kind of a short dress?” 

“You’re about to lose spectacularly and you’re worried about my modesty ?” you scoffed, both legitimately annoyed and touched. 

“Hey, hey, hey–”

Because you could be as surefire and confident as Bokuto (and because you felt a little reckless, body still embarrassingly warm and tingly from his hand in yours) you squeezed his palm and taunted impishly, “When you lose–and you will lose–you better not blame it on being distracted because you saw my panties.” 

Bo sputtered your name, only a little petulant when he said, “So not fair, but I’m the ace for a reason. It’ll take a little more than that to break my game, Kuma-chan.”

“Is that a challenge?” 

The flustered noise he made in response was quickly becoming your favorite sound. 

It was dethroned quickly. A few matches of DDR quickly. After every spectacular loss, Bokuto made a little whining noise of disbelief. And then after a few seconds of pouting he would laugh and toss his arms around you as he showered you with praise. That was your new favorite sound. 

Where he lacked in rhythm game skills, Bokuto excelled at basically everything else at the arcade. He took the lead, lacing your fingers together and pulling you between whatever machines got his attention. He got such a big lead in Mario Kart you refused to play a second game. To make it up to you (as if you hadn’t rubbed in your multiple victories at DDR and Taiko), he won a prize at four crane games in a row, gifting each trinket with a pleased smile. Seeing a cute alien keychain bounce against the rest of the charms on your bag made your stomach flip. 

Bokuto had worked his way into so many parts of your life already. The realization was as anxiety-inducing as it was thrilling. It was easy to think about everything that could go wrong, filling gaps with self-doubt. But it was just as easy to look forward and brace yourself for life and whatever it brought to you. 

You thought about Bokuto, butterflies and fist-pumps. You thought about the way Emiyo lovingly rolled her eyes everytime you said something she thought was stupid. You thought about the way Ita always shared his bento with you, and how Takami believed in you even when you didn’t believe in yourself. You thought about your brother’s drunken confession last New Year’s, he wanted to marry Reo–as soon as he finished university, he was going to propose. You thought about Reo–gentle hands developing your film, soft eyes listening to you spill your guts on a park bench, giggling into your brother’s shoulder during his drunk holiday confession. You thought of your mom leaving notes for you throughout the house, little smiley faces and hearts dotting everything, and the way your dad would text you a photo of food when he missed you. 

For the first time in a long time–maybe what felt like your whole life–you were excited about the future. Sure, it was still terrifying to think about things like figuring out what to do after graduation or if your friends were going to drift apart in a few month’s time or any other seemingly terrifying adult problem that kept you up at night. But you weren’t alone. You’d never been alone. 

Your relationship with time was a funny one: selfishly, you stole slivers through a viewfinder. Shuddering moment after moment in a desperate attempt to stop, pause, let-you-catch-your-breath, remember, dream. Sometimes you felt like your thievery would come back to haunt you, like time would come for its penance. You still felt the compulsion to rest your finger on the shudder, greedy for whatever scraps of the universe you could stamp on film. Instead of feeling like there wasn’t enough time, though, you were starting to get the feeling that there would never be enough time–

“Hey, hey, Kuma-chan.” Bokuto wrapped his fingers around your wrist, thumb pressing to your pulse point. His face was scrunched in concentration or concern. Maybe a mixture of the two. “Are you okay? Is your sugar dropping or something? I think we passed a crepe stand on the way here. No, we definitely did because I really wanted to stop but you were bragging about your high score–” you scoffed, he smirked but continued otherwise unbothered, “–and you were so cute, I didn’t wanna interrupt you. If this is a sugar emergency, we have options.”

You did have options. 

The best choice obviously being pushing Bokuto against a broken down machine in one of the many desolate retro game aisles and kissing him until your lips were swollen and someone was clearing their throat loudly, asking the two of you to leave the arcade. You laughed all the way to the crepe stand around the corner. 

There were only two trains running in Fukurodani’s direction by the time Bokuto managed to pull up the schedule on his phone. He missed the first one because halfway to the station he decided to go back to the crepe stand and buy something for Akaashi. Tasked with getting it back to campus (and not eating it along the way, despite buying an extra for himself for the trip) gave Bokuto a reason to stay on track on the way to the station. He only stopped to kiss you twice, and you were only briefly distracted by a fluffy black cat perched on a set of stairs as you passed. There was an announcement running when you got to the station, a five minute warning, but the train was still there so it was a win in your book. 

Bokuto’s eyes flitted between the gate and you, his teeth holding his bottom lip. “I should probably go.”

“Probably.”

Instead of stepping towards the train, he took a step towards you. Even though he’d spent the better part of the afternoon kissing you, his hands still shook a little as he cupped your chin and tilted your head towards his. It was the tenderset kiss you’d gotten all day, soft and yearning. It was a kiss that said “I miss you already” . At least, that’s what you hoped your kiss said back. From the starry eyed look Bokuto was giving you, you were pretty sure he understood. 

“Let me know when you get home.”

“You too. And if Akaashi-san likes his crepe.”

“Okay. Don’t forget to ask your mom about going to the sanctuary next week.”

The bird sanctuary in Karuizawa–the one with the trails and the bird baths. The team didn’t have practice on Thursdays during the summer, and he wanted to go on another date. The birds were chattery this time of year, apparently, and Bokuto wanted to take you to the sanctuary. “ The weather will be nice for the trails, too,” he pitched–as if you’d need to be convinced to go anywhere or do anything if he was involved, “And I’ll bring lots of snacks, I promise.”  

“I will.” 

“And make sure you send me a picture of Totoro in his new home.” 

Your hand instinctively went to your bag, palming over the lump where the plushie Totoro crane prize was tucked away, then leaned up and pressed a kiss to Bokuto’s cheek. “I will, but Bokkun, you really should go. I don’t want you to miss the train when we’re standing right here.”

“Yeah,” he huffed. “You’re right. Okay, okay.” Your name rolled off his lips like honey. “I like you so much. Today was… today was awesome. Let’s have more days like today.” 

Let’s have more days like today.

You didn’t know what to say, so you nodded and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. If you weren’t interrupted by a departure announcement, you could have kissed him all night. Bokuto grinned, stumbling over his feet as he ran backwards so he could yell his goodbye to you. 

Before the train could really start moving, you reached into your bag and pulled out your camera. It was second nature, powering it on and setting the shot. Your finger slotted against the metal trigger, and you looked at the station through the viewfinder. The setting sun filtered through arches and buildings, shadows stacking like abstract blocks on the near empty platform. It was dark enough that you could see inside the lit train, all the empty padded seats… and Koutarou, waving at you through the glass.

Your finger pressed the release, and you waved back.

[lannisterdaddyissues]

W - A trope which you are virtually certain to hate in any fandom.

And

X - A trope which you are almost certain to love in any fandom.

For the ask meme <333

omg aww @lauwrite1225 @fleurdufeu ty all for the asks!!! also @faeratil bold of you to assume you can retract your challenge just like that, watch me do all of them anyway

A: Ships/platonic pairings that you currently like a lot ok so thanks to @potatoesforsamoo i am simping on main for steven stone and flannery from pokemon which is such an obscure ship but she writes amazing fic for them!! i also love twiyor from spy x family rn! as for platonic pairings i'm obsessed with literally everyone in major. the father-son relationships in that show are EVERYTHING and i love the friendship dynamics so much. in my head i've written over 1 million words of meta about them

B: A pairing that you initially didn't consider, but someone changed your mind franky/nightfall from spy x family... i was a yuri/nightfall shipper for a while bc i thought it would be comedic and hilarious but i saw some art of franky and fiona and honestly it would be the FUNNIEST thing if he had a crush on her. they would be like fix-it felix and sergeant calhoun from wreck-it ralph if they were a couple i think. and i love it

C: A ship you have never liked and probably never will sheith i guess?? i'm trying to think of ships from fandoms im actively in but not sure. anyway yeah whenever i see sheith i'm like ew. not even bc of their familial dynamic, like i don't care who ppl ship or anything go ahead and ship them all you like i just cant see them together. it makes my blood boil for no reason at all. it might be bc i ship klance or smth idk i'm gross

D: A pairing you wish you liked but just can't i guess all the thomas ships in downton abbey but i just don't Like thomas that much and im not very interested in his subplots sorry... it seems like everyone who stans thomas is having a genuinely good time tho and i wish i could be one of them bc im starved for good fic in the dabbey fandom :(

E: Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom? If so, what? how easily you forget all the memes i made for tlk lmao... as for my current fandom i made this thread summarizing the entire plot of major through memes bc watching the anime made me so mentally ill. if u actually click on the second link tho don't read the tags i beg you... i thirstposted in there and it was bad

F: What's the longest you've ever been in a fandom? i've been in the fullmetal alchemist fandom for going on 8 years now and it's been pretty good. after that i was in the man from uncle fandom for 3 years or so

G: Have you ever had an OTP? If so, do you remember your first one? gee it was so long ago but i believe the first ships i ever actually shipped were like kimron and drakkgo from kim possible. the first ship i actually consumed content for was either shirogane and ichigo from tokyo mew mew or yullen from d-gray man i think. if we're talking actual brainrot otps tho then it was stony jdkfsjskfds

H: What is your favorite source text for fandom stuff? oh anime 100%! i watch so much anime its a wonder i haven't magically turned into an anime character already

I: Has Tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why? h*zbin h*tel bc the fandom was toxic as fuck and the show is actually so, so evil...

J: Name a fandom you didn’t think about until you saw it all over Tumblr duh it's the gay pirate show and the vampire book club... i'm not in them but they ARE all over tumblr so i have to think about them obviously

K: What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc? JOE GIBSON MAJOR JOE GIBSON MAJOR JOE GIBSON MAJOR!!!!!! I CANNOT EMPHASIZE ENOUGH WHAT AN INCREDIBLE CHARACTER HE IS!!! MY BRAIN IS SO ROTTED FROM THINKING ABOUT HIM ALL THE TIME OK YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT HE MEANS TO ME NONE OF YOU KNOW HIM LIKE I DO

L: Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves ugh... ok aethelwold WAS admittedly really funny sometimes. i hated him but he made me laugh and sometimes i miss the levity he brought to a scene with just his overall existence

M: Name a character that you’d like to have for a friend alice from major!!! she's just so cute and i think we would get along super well i love her <3

N: Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom content, content, and more content. the major fandom is a barren wasteland i hate it here

O: Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of? the first song to come on was if u seek amy by britney spears... idk why but it reminds me of junior from major bc i think he would have the trashiest white girl taste in music i just know he would be belting out an impeccable falsetto in his fancy jag while bumping his hand on the steering wheel. i know it

P: Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas) courtesy of ro i am still thinking about a major au where gibson adopts goro and raises him and junior together with momoko after shigeharu's death to atone for his mistakes. i just want gibson to be a father figure is that so wrong

Q: A fandom you’ve abandoned and why there are a lot of them so i can't really give one answer but like i said, the h*zbin h*tel fandom is so toxic i will never go back

R: Which friendship/platonic relationship is your favorite in fandom? GIBSON AND GORO ARE SO IMPORTANT TO ME!!!! despite their history there was never any lingering hostility or anything between them. they respected each other so much and took so much inspiration from one another and grew as people because of it. like gibson had been so arrogant and almost selfish in his debut eps but he transformed thanks to goro's influence and became such a humble and selfless person like even when he was dying he never put himself first. it was all about keeping his promise to goro, and making up for lost time with junior, and upholding the pride of his country, even if it meant putting his life on the line to do so. and in the last arc of season 5 we saw how he touched the hearts of fans all around the world with his resolve and i think it's so so beautiful

S: Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged) major au where no one dies and everyone is happy that's my personal headcanon right there. bc if shigeharu had lived i actually think he and gibson had such potential for a rivals to besties dynamic like it was all there. in my heart shigeharu lived and he and gibson became reluctant carpool buddies during the little league arc. i just really wish they had been friends that's it. nothing else to see here

T: Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending? toshi is so in love with goro it's not even up for debate he is in LOVE with goro!!!! also i think goro and alice dated for a little bit. i just need it to be true

U: Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites roy mustang from fma/b, jaime lannister from game of thrones, and joe gibson from major. they're all war criminals (only emotionally in gibson's case) who are traumatized by the sins of their pasts but later redeemed themselves through their actions thanks to an excellently-written character development arc (in the case of jaime, this was all erased at the last minute. thank you d&d for your service)

V: Which character do you relate to most? KAORU MY BELOVED!!! i too am a spaz who loves sports but can't be normal if her life depended on it and i for one would LOVE to be goro's girlfriend so if she would just hand him over please <3

W: A trope which you are virtually certain to hate in any fandom i hate breakup+makeup/divorce+get back together aus i just can't stand the relationship drama smh

X: A trope which you are almost certain to love in any fandom slow burn mutual pining gets me every time its so basic. but if we are being oddly specific here then it's when a character who's the last person you would imagine to be competent in this type of situation is actually terrifyingly competent and you are So Confused and a little turned on right now like who is this and what have they done with [insert character here]

Y: What are your secondhand fandoms? succession, yuri on ice, she-ra reboot, attack on titan, mdzs and tgcf, and riverdale

Z: Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go! uhhhhhh i guess with the new pjo adaptation i'm a bit concerned with alleged racism in fandom spaces now?? so many people are up in arms about annabeth's casting like "you're racist if you don't support this casting!!" like it's not that we don't support it? i love that annabeth will be black in the show! it's great! but... in the books and the movie... she is still... a white character... and maybe... it's not so bad... if people PREFER the books and the movie... so they continue to think of annabeth as a white character as a result... like, it's not erasing black annabeth at all! it's just they will continue to think of annabeth as white bc it's the annabeth they know and love! either way, the character is still annabeth! same source material and everything! anyway that's it, people will probably come after me for this but i just wanted to say it :/

[wooahaes]

I really like your Wonwoo stories so I’m REALLY looking forward to lonely hearts club! You write Wonwoo so well, especially the soft sweet side of things which is hard to come by as a soft fan myself. Can I make a request though? Since you noted that this is a chubby fem! reader, and also mentioned about people writing POC readers, would you consider noting if the reader insert will also likely be fairer complected? Its always a bit of a bummer just how often a reader insert mentions the reader blushing, but didn’t make mention of the reader being fair skinned… kinda sucks for us POCs who don’t blush visibly— not to say you can’t have a reader blushing, it would just be helpful if that was mentioned somewhere in the info on the fic you know?

hiya lovely! thank you for the ask and i'm glad you're looking forward to lonely hearts club <3

typically when i write, i try to exclude any indication of reader's body in general unless i tag it (like with chubby reader fics). usually this means reader not blushing and instead doing something like fidgeting when embarrassed or their face getting hot (which as far as i know doesn't imply a change in color--just that you're embarrassed enough to feel it if that makes sense?) or just in general feeling flustered.

if any of those imply skin tone, my bad! feel free to let me know since i'm still very much a white girl who can mess up from time to time. if i ever write something and don't put an indicator of reader being fair skinned, absolutely just send me a quick ask/message and let me know and i'll most likely fix the wording instead of putting in a disclaimer since i like for my fics to be as inclusive as they can!

ty for the polite ask btw <3 i'm happy to do whatever i can to make my fics accessible for as many people as they can or at least tagging them appropriately! it's definitely not the same as imagining yourself as another race, but i know i like... always get super taken out of a fic when reader is just easily carried by whoever since there is no way some of these men are picking me up, or at least picking me up easily (unless they've got superpowers lmao then ur 100% good)

[heavensenthearty]

Well, I've been tagged by @stars-and-darkness, @kaligraphy, @badlucksav and @adorkablemamebean, so I guess I can't keep running away from my endless files 😅...

WIP/Tag Game

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it.

Note: For obvious reasons, I'm putting only the ones which I have enough of a clear idea to answer asks about them.

Miya/Takashi (SK8):

If I had you (that would be the only thing I'll ever need)

GrayLu (Fairy Tail):

Gray checks out Lucy's writing

Gray and Lucy get teleported together to the labyrinth

Azulaang (ATLA):

Aang goes to visit Azula at the mental hospital

A reformed Azula touches the scar on Aang's back

Teoaang (ATLA):

Teo goes with Aang to a flying race and ultimately tricks him into giving him a kiss

On Jaang (ATLA):

Aang goes to apologize to On Ji for deceiving her when they met

On Ji's family is living at Omashu AU

Jinkotara (ATLA):

Jin, Zuko, and Katara sent letters to each other

Makroh (TLOK):

Mako is the one to save Iroh after the Equalist attack

General ATLA:

The GAang goes camping like the old times

An AU where all the GAang are childhood friends — (the odd childhood friend group)

Boarding School

Kanej (SoC/S&B):

Kaz and Inej hold hands. (That's it. That's the plot.)

Kaz visits Inej's ship

Thomastairs (TLH):

Alastair and Thomas POV on the Academy

Kitty (TWP):

Kit goes to visit the L.A. Institute while Ty is there

Jetko (ATLA):

Zuko saves Jet from the Dai Li

Jet joins the GAang on S3 and they go to a hot spring therapy

Making out after stealing the Captain's food

Zukaang (ATLA):

Before Sozin's Comet, Zuko doesn't believe himself worthy of fighting and Aang tells him he wants him there

Mailee (ATLA):

Flower Shop AU

Jinko (ATLA):

City of Heavenly Fire AU

Sokkla (ATLA):

Secret relationship fic (ft. Zutara)

Zutara (ATLA):

Fic inspired by House/Thirteen scene

Kingsman AU

Team Avatar goes to Chan's beach party

Modern AU Breakfast Club-inspired

S3-B rewrite

Band room one-shot

Shapeshifter Phoenix Zuko/Tennyo Katara

Katara's necklace gets broken during a fight with burglars and Zuko fixes it

TyLuko (ATLA):

Zuko goes to defend Ty Lee from the guys hitting on her

Bakudeku (MHA):

Hiking fic

Deku says goodbye to Kacchan

Kacchako (MHA):

Meeting her parents

Eating lunch

Todomomo (MHA):

Texting fic

Trapped together and they depend on Momo's Quirk to get out

Ulquihime (Bleach):

Night fic

Jordelia (TLH):

After fighting Belial

Jetkotara (ATLA):

Vigilante AU

TSR rewrite featuring Jet

Blackstairs (TDA):

Travel year fic

Keitor (VLD):

Team Voltron tries to not interrupt Keith's date with Lotor

Goldric (TOH):

Belos sends Hunter to Blight Manor again

Lumity (TOH):

Luz finally takes Amity to an appropriate Tunnel of Love

Masami (TLOK):

Pool boy Mako working for Asami's family

Jiangtara (ATLA):

Katara visits Jiang after the War

Note: Next I'm going to put more general fics that don't have any specific ships yet or are still subject to change.

ATLA/TSC crossover

Avatar!Zuko AU; The Banished Prince Series

Avatar!Zuko AU 2

Avatar!Zuko AU 3

Avatar!Katara AU

Avatar!Sokka AU

Avatar!Toph AU

Avatar!Azula AU

Avatar!Suki AU

Aged-up Aang AU

Avatar!Yue AU

Avatar!Jet AU

Avatar!Jin AU

Avatar!Ty Lee AU

Avatar!Haru AU

Avatar!Jiang AU

Comics rewrite

Kyoshi novels if Yun lived AU

Zuko is adopted by Piandao AU

Zuko as part of the Batfam AU

Zuko gets his scar cured and his hair white

Nikolai as the Sun Summoner

VLD Role-Swap Fic 1

VLD Role-Swap Fic 2

*sighs* Well, that was fun 😅

Tagging anyone who wants to share!! 💖💖💖

[janethepegasus]

About Jane, the shameless self-insert

When she arrived to Twisted Wonderland, apparently she magically de-aged to be 16 years old, which absolutely shocked her when she found out. Her actual age back home? Around her early 20s. Though she’s mentally the same as before.

Of course she’s not gonna be romantic with a majority of these boys, they’re 16-18 anyway and even if she’s in that age range in Twisted Wonderland, it just doesn’t sit well with her. Though the only people she would possibly feel comfortable dating is Leona (he’s 20), Malleus, and Lilia.

She’s actually kinda mature for her “age” and there are moments where she shows this maturity (such as her offer to Azul in Episode 3)

She’s autistic, showing few traits of it sometimes such as fidgeting. Though a lot of students interpret this differently.

In moments in complete distress, Jane would go into an emotional meltdown, feeling the crushing weight of the fear, sadness, and hopelessness from whatever situation caused it.

She has knowledge of the various interests she has back in her world. She even shares some of this knowledge to some people (sometimes reference these things too)

However, she’s silent about anything Disney, especially about the villains the dorms are based off of. The reason why is one, she doesn’t wanna cause a mass panic and have several people have a midlife crisis for looking up to these people, and two, she just assumes in Twisted Wonderland, the Great Seven are just “villains who are misunderstood”

Because of her already existing knowledge of these movies, she doesn’t see the usual dreams MC/Yuu see. Instead they’re more symbolic and surreal, tying into whatever’s going on in reality.

Personally-wise; she is generally nice, showcasing her kind and joyful nature to others. She can also be a little mischievous and playful, cracking jokes if she feels like it.

Sometimes Jane can be a little hyper, everyone on Happy Beans Day witnessed the wrath of an adrenaline-high Jane who’s having WAY too much fun in a simple game of tag.

Though as she adapts to her life in NRC, she slowly changes as a person. She starts to become bold, more assertive in what she says, she adapts to how students at NRC can be and uses it if she feels like it’s necessary, and she learned to be courageous in dangerous moments, especially during Overblot fights.

Speaking of Overblots, a strange little coincidence keeps happening in the aftermath; the Overblot monster falls over her and lands on her, a wave of blot covering Jane and the Overblot victim. Jane would find herself in an odd dark space, essentially the mind/heart of the person. This is where she tries to learn the source of their behavior, what caused them to resort to whatever actions they did, she learns of their past and all the pain they went through, and from there, she tries to comfort them, validate their pains, and try to guide them to a path of healing. She calls this odd phenomenon, “Diving into the Heart”

She would find herself making a ton of friends at NRC, some more closer than others. She greatly appreciates having all these people who care for her and the same with her, in a way, they’re almost like…..her new family.

Additional notes;

Out of all the First Years, Jane is like the mom of the group. Constantly trying to keep these kiddos under control whenever they’re all together.

She goes to the Board Game Club, she felt like it suited her best after seeing what every club had in store. On some days, Jane would try to outsmart Azul while he playfully teases her for trying, meanwhile Grim and Idia just…watch.

She sees Ramshackle Dorm as a home away from her real home. She tries to keep it as clean as possible, but no amount of cleaning would hide the fact the building is crumbling apart. She tried SOOO many times to suggest to Crowley to renovate the building, only to be dismissed with a “perhaps I’ll get to that but not now!” She’s starting to bribe Azul to invest fixing the place.

She got a phone from Cater for her birthday, since then she’s been using it for two things; to be in contact with all her friends and Magicam. Her Magicam account is best described as a jack of all trades. With various pics and videos of whatever Jane felt like posting; from actual good pics of random spots throughout the school, to pics of her and any of her friends, to pics of her art, to simple jokes (such as a parody of Riddle’s Magicam posts with a picture of Grim)

[al3x1ss]

Just a Friend to You

Chapter 20: Make a wish

After tying her apron, Y/N gave a light pat to Akaashi’s cheek, stepping out to grab menus from the incoming table. As the girl passes, Akaashi gives her a smile, grabbing the ringing phone from his left.

Walking up back to him after he ends the call, the boy lets out a small yawn.

“Tired and it’s not even the second hour, wow Keiji.” She snickers, Akaashi giving her a glare in response.

“I’ll leave right now-“

“wAit wait wait okay okay”

Akaashi let’s a smile tug at his lips, shooing the girl away as he wipes down the front counter once more before being called over by a family.

Continuing to take orders, the two work for a while, with Y/N going to answer for another order. Akaashi bumps into her, the pizza plate almost falling to the ground with a clang.

Y/N and Akaashi look at eachother wide eyed, Y/N fixing the plate in his hands before moving towards the counter. Delivering the pizza, he looks back at her, wiping fake sweat off his forehead as she giggles.

Y/N finishes wiping up a table, walking towards the front counter as she hears the door ring.

“Welcome to Kiyos! Can I get you a booth-“

Turning, her smile slowly drops, beginning to stare at her four friends in front of her. Ine shyly waves, seeing Y/N’s expression as she sighs. Nodding her head, Y/N motions for them to follow.

After handing them their menus, Kaori puts a hand on Y/N’s forearm.

“We promise we won’t bother too much, just a pie and a pitcher please.” Kaori says, giving Y/N a smile as the girl nods, smiling in return and making her way back to the counter.

Akaashi tilts his head at Y/N, confused by the exchange he just witnessed.

“They came but they said they would keep it calm.” Y/N says, handing the order sheet to another worker. She places her head in one of her hands, letting the other arm fall onto the counter.

“Do you want to deal with the family and ill deal with them?” He says in a soft tone, running his fingers along her forearm in comfort.

She smiles at him, shaking her head no. “You’ll get more shit than I will,” she says, turning her head to look at them as they talk, “Trust me Keij,” Y/N looks back at him, their faces close as Y/N gives him a smirk,

“I can do this all night.”

Reaching behind the counter, she grabs a pen as he gives her a smirk back, heading to the back room.

Ine let’s out a quiet squeal, repeatedly smacking Yukie’s arm.

“wHAT OW motherfucker Ine what?”

“He 109% likes her.”

“Huh?”

Ine rants about what she witnessed whilst stalking, her smile becoming wider and wider and Yukie squeals along.

Aika shushes them, giving wide eyes as Akaashi approaches their table with two pitchers of soda.

“Hi Akaashi~”

Akaashi sticks his tongue out at the greeting from the four girls, giving them a light wave. After a while, the boy makes his way towards the back room, seeing the light already on.

Walking in, he sees Y/N huddled in her sweater, scrolling on her phone as she eats a slice.

Y/N would look cuter in my hoodie.

“What did you mumble over there?”

Akaashi’s eyes go wide, keeping his eyes on the ground.

Shit did I say that out loud-

“It was nothing.” Akaashi mumbles, sitting next to her.

She puts her head on his shoulder, still on her phone whilst letting out a yawn.

“We get to clock out in 4 minutes, you wanna grab a soda and we can leave?”

“Yeah sure,” Akaashi says, standing back up and rubbing his palms on his thighs, “I’ll treat.”

Y/N nods, grabbing his sweater and his card, swiping both their employee ids and waving goodbye to the manager in the back.

She heads out, faced with Akaashi handing her her soda. They wave at their co-workers, heading outside the door.

Passing by the window, Y/N taps on it, Kaori turning as she sees Y/N making faces at her with Akaashi recording.

She smiles, and with the flip of a finger from Aika, the pair begin to walk home.

Notes

Akaashi does not like Y/N

Y/N does not like Akaashi

They both applied to the pizzeria, deciding that neither wanted to walk home alone incase of a long shift

Akaashi has only just started using reaction memes from how many he has had sent from Kuroo

That is the first pizza they actually ended up catching instead of it falling to the floor

Ine believes Akaashi likes Y/N

Back to Masterlist

C. 19 <- C. 20 -> C. 21

Tagging: @winunk @kurushiisaboss @babymattsun @haikyuu-appreciation-club @pumpkiethepie @mint-mai @writingfreakk @tendousfingertape5 @bbyouamazin @navymacaroons @helloalex80 @heavenini @tchalameme @foxxtrot-116 @kageyamasgirl @noya-sleftankle @mariachiii @rory-cakes @sailorstrawberi @iidanotlida @animeflower26 @anngelllla @kyorinkun @reina-de-tay @ish-scribbles @javj @little-dark-empress @athenarosaline @sugawaras-simpsquad @elianetsantana @peteunderoos @thatswhatmakesyoumiserable @ntimacy @thatrandom-bitch @420-uwu @halesandy @immxnty @yamayoomi @ohmsjedi @tazzi-baby @marissaraeblr @briidge

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