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blockedbykei · 3 months

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𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐏 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐎𝐖

🏐— tsukishima kei x f!reader

— synopsis: he hates your intelligence in classrooms and you hate his cunnigness at the court. both go at great lengths to defeat each other, but how is it that both of you were the only ones that can help each other be better?

— warnings: swearing, a bit suggestive, enemies to lovers (although kind of enemies)

You slam your paper on his desk.

Tsukishima barely flinches. He removes his headphones and hangs them on his neck, unbothered by your looming presence as he stares blankly at your paper. 96

The corners of his lips tug down, seemingly unimpressed. "Eh."

"Eh? Aw, is little Tsukishima disappointed at himself?"

He looks up at you, stares deeply into your eyes. And for a moment you'd think his domineering gaze would soften as he was overawed by you. But then he smiles, that annoying little shitty, narcissistic smile.

"Actually, not at all (l/n)," his smile is bright, almost genuine, but his sarcasm is radiating. "I got a 98. Not bad, though!"

You swear steam was coming off your body.

"96 at modern Japanese." He says. "Understandable."

"Understandable?!"

"Don't beat yourself up, (l/n). Not everyone's perfect," he leans back. "Not even me. I mean, I'm just being humble. But yeah, not everyone."

"I hate you," you take your paper off his desk.

"Flattered. Really, really flattered. Thank you for hating me, actually. I feel so honored to be hated." He puts his headphones back on and places his elbows on his desk, his chin resting on his joint fists. Tsukishima smiles at you again.

God, his smile is infuriating.

Tsukishima was someone you'd go to great lengths to defeat. He never bothered for your existence when first year began. He didn't even know your name; Didn't even look at your direction. He'd only known it a month later when you were paired to be partners and he decided to be such a condescending brat when he pointed out your handwriting.

At first you ignored it, took it by heart and started organizing your writings on your notes. Then he decided to put all his self-hatred on you and started to discreetly judge you.

Maybe he wasn't even judging you. Maybe he was just staring at your paper, scoffed to himself, shook his head and laughed because you got a better score than him and he was berating himself. But no, he laughed because he thought you were a tryhard and he was a prodigy.

Obviously none of those were confirmed. But he's a man and a man hates it when a woman's happy.

When he smirks you have the urge to rip his lips to pieces.

You walk away from him and sit on your desk, which was actually beside him.

His scent follows your flaring nostrils as you carefully shove your paper between the notebooks in your bag. Tsukishima looks out the window, hiding his smirk, his foot tapping lightly but never making sound. So you put your own headphones over your ears, in hopes to drown out his deafening aura.

🏐 —

"Shit!"

Tsukishima's knees bends the wrong way and almost falls onto his back as he lands on the ground. The ball echoes across the court as it ricochets off the floor. You laugh loudly, and everyone looks at you.

"You're too advanced for the block, idiot!" You say loudly. Yamaguchi giggles.

He rolls his eyes at you as he chases for the ball. Kageyama sits beside you.

"You know he plays horribly when you're here."

"Oh?" You raise a brow. "Is he not used to a girl looking at her?"

Kageyama scratches his nose. "Probably 'cause he hates you."

You laugh lightly. "Kinda nice that I'm here. I get to see him fuck up."

Kageyama snorts. "He feels pressured 'cuz you're here."

"Oh? He said that?"

"No. But I can hear him think."

You laugh and wipe your sweat off. "I'd play with you guys, but his remarks could piss me off and I might, uh, shove that ball up his ass."

When Kageyama laughs again, quite loudly, Tsukishima's head snaps at the bench where you're sitting. Heat rises to his head, his stance losing its usual strength, his arms weakening as he watches you—

Laughing, at some joke you said or Tobio said. Laughing heartily like someone just made the best joke in the world. The way your lips almost reach the wrinkles beneath your eyes. Oh, that's so funny Tobio. You're so funny you should quit volleyball and be a stand up comedian!

He knows you're talking shit about him, too. Idiot. Brat. Showoff.

He had the right to show off. He was better than you.

He was the better thinker; the better scorer.

Tsukishima is better than you.

I'm better than you—

The ball hits the side of his face, his glasses flailing to the side.

The first thing that reaches his ears—your sickening laugh. That monstrous, sadistic guffaw. Tanaka yells from the other side of the court and dives beneath the net to take a look at his face. Nishinoya hovers, hands on his knees, laughing.

"Pay attention, dumbass!" You cuff your hands over your mouth. "Stop daydreaming! It's embarrassing."

He bends to pick his glasses up. Alive, no cracks, frame not broken. He puts it on the bridge of his nose so that he could see your face clearly.

Hideously alluring.

"Do you think of scheming as daydreaming, (l/n)?" his voice, full of disdain, though hidden through feigned sweetness. "Like a child as always. Go back to middle school?"

"Do better at volleyball?"

"I ought to kick the both of you out this court," Daichi says loudly. "Oh wait I can't speak to (l/n) like that. S-sorry!"

Tsukishima sneers, his lips frowning. He approaches the rolling ball, watching as it hits the wall and propells back towards his awaiting feet. When he picks it up, he steals another glance at you talking to Kageyama.

The King and the Brat. The most annoying combination in the entirety of Karasuno campus.

Somehow, seeing you next to Kageyama and being given the nickname as if the two of you were a pair sends a tight rope around his chest that causes it to ache a little. Tsukishima huffs it out, an unsettling in his bones.

Please don't look at me.

The ball flies into the air, and his palm raises just in time to make contact with the ball.

He sees you watch from the corner of his eye, a blurried silhouette, but your figure was familiar enough for him to recognize you. His heart beats a little louder.

🏐 —

No.

Shit. Fuck. No

God damnit. 74.

Tsukishima stares at his paper in horror. In his entire life, he has always gotten two digits on his scores. However, they had always been ninety onwards. Never in the line of sevens. He doesn't know if his horror is displayed across his face. He prays it doesn't—he would die if you saw his expression.

He leans sideways to the right, his eye darting towards the side to peak at your paper.

98.

The english language was something that was easy to learn but never easy in exams. This—despite boasting that english was the easiest subject—was his weakness.

You're too preoccupied to notice his existence. Good.

He turns around to look at the green haired boy.

"Yamaguchi." He whisper-yelled. "Tadashi."

Yamaguchi looks up. "Yes?"

This was it. Years of built up pride, intelligence, boosted ego— down the drain. As soon as he'd ask him the question, it would forever alter the image of himself towards his friend. Tsukishima was no longer the brainy four-eyes of the Karasuno Volleyball Club.

He would now be Tsukishima, the idiot four-eyes.

Maybe I'm overreacting.

He stands up and sits beside the empty chair next to Yamaguchi.

"How- What's your score?"

Yamaguchi looks puzzled as he glances at his paper. "E-eighty eight."

God, this is depressing.

"Um," Tsukishima scratches the back of his neck. "Could you help me with English?"

There it is. His face says it all.

"Don't you even—"

"You, Tsukishima Kei, asking for my help?" He laughs incredulously. "Are you sure? What's your score?"

"Don't want to talk about it."

"Aw, c'mon Tsukki." He pouts playfully like comforting a weeping baby. "I'm sure it's not that bad."

Tsukishima tells him in a low voice. He never thought he could hate Yamaguchi's laugh. But he did, right after he laughed at his score. It wasn't even a failing grade.

"You know who should tutor you though?" He puts his paper in his bag. "(l/n). She's good, y'know. I heard her speak english once. I thought she was from, uh, some foreign country or something."

"She's not even that good." Tsukishima takes off his glasses and wipes it with the corner of his uniform. "She's good with memory but she forgets it right after the quiz like a ditz."

Yamaguchi snorts. "She's the one who got the best score out of all of us."

"Yeah, no thanks. I'd never let her teach me."

"I think you're forgetting I'm right here in front of you." You turn around, placing your elbow and forearm on the back of your chair and look at Tsukishima. "I can teach you."

Tsukishima scoffs. "No thanks. I'd rather repeat freshman year."

"Are you sure?" you pout, placing your chin on the back of your hand. "I can teach you, little Tsukishima."

"I'm not little."

"Yeah but your brain is."

"Yamaguchi, help me out here."

He can't ask for your help. Never ever. Never will he ever ask for your help. Tsukishima can study this himself. He's always studied by himself. He's never needed anyone, and certainly not you. He was independent, cunning as everyone says. Tsukishima does not need tutors.

Up until now.

"Please help Tsukishima study," Yamaguchi looks at you. "He's too prideful to ask but he really needs your help."

Tsukishima stammers. "T-that's not what I meant!"

"Aw, is this true?" You're taunting him. He feels like a child.

"I can study by myself. Fuck off."

You smile at him. In a way that he can't read. It was soft, almost kind, like you wanted to help him wholeheartedly and wanted his english to improve. Then he looked into your eyes and all the kindness in your smile had been washed away by this pity in your eyes that you enjoyed. Tsukishima huffs.

"No need to be shy about asking for help, little Tsukki," you coo. "We'll study in the locker room while everyone else plays. You're skipping practice today."

Tsukishima zips his bag and stands up. He towers over you, covering the sun that blinds you through the glass window. He looks down at your eyes—teasing, condescending eyes. His lips are turned to a frown, which makes you smile even more.

"I'm not skipping practice."

"Too bad. You are. You know, if you let me help you, you'd stop having that distraught face everytime you get your english paper." You take a step closer, neck bent backwards to look up at him. "Yeah, I saw your face."

Yamaguchi nudges his arm. "C'mon, Kei. Ask for her help. You know you need it. Don't be so prideful."

Tsukishima growls. He doesn't say anything yet, all the confidence in him washed away by a score that wasn't even a failing grade. His palm rubs the space between his eyebrows and mumbles:

"Help me."

You lean in, ear towards him. "Couldn't hear that. Sorry?"

"Help me study."

"Are you commanding me or asking?"

"Please help me study."

"Don't mumble, Tsukishima."

"Damn it!" He groans. "Please help me, dearest (l/n)." His voice drips in sarcasm, peering at you through his scratched lenses. "Help me get a better grade at english. Help me stop myself from strangling you! Idiot!"

You lean back, the bottom of your spine resting on your table as your left hand props you up. Tsukishima is almost seething, his eyes widened a little as his anger seethes through his nostrils. You hum, pretend to think, then slap his right cheek twice lightly.

"How kind of you to ask, little Tsukki." You wrinkle your nose at him, slinging your bag over your shoulder. "See you at the locker room."

When you leave, his head turns to Yamaguchi who smiles innocently. Tsukishima almost strangles him instead.

🏐—

The boys are thirty minutes late to practice. Including Daichi.

"It's the sequence of the words, Tsukishima," you point your pen at his test paper. "The spelling's no problem. You're good at it. It's just with how you've formed them together."

They all sit behind the two of you, watching silently. Tsukishima is red from embarrassment as he ignores them.

"What's so wrong about this sequence? It sounds correct."

"Just because it sounds correct doesn't mean that it is correct."

Hinata snorts. Tsukishima's head snaps at it. "Don't snort, dumbass. Last time I checked you got a twenty at your exam."

"You hit a nerve there, Shoyo," Kageyama giggles.

You sigh and slap your hands at your thighs. "Sawamura-san, why are you guys even here?"

He stammers, his back straightening as he fixes his bag on his left shoulder. "Jus–Just wanted to make sure you two will be fine. Let's go guys."

When they leave, Tsukishima relaxes in relief. He stares intensely at his notebook, figuring out the correct answer. You try not to laugh at him, but the sight was entertaining; seeing him suffer brought your heart at ease.

"Figured it out, moron?" You bring your own notebook out, flipping it to the last page you'd written on. "It's really not that hard."

"Shut up, (l/n.)" he says. You make a small sound, similar to "okay!" As you begin to write down on a blank page.

And you're like that for a few hours.

Tsukishima answers the questions you've written for him, and when he asks you for help, you cordially help him without telling him the answers. Then you both go back to formidable silence, doing your own perspective works.

He almost enjoys this newfound environment created with you. Somehow, his body is more tranquil, but at the same time his mind is racing, because you're here. Tutoring him. Tsukishima has always believed that he was one step ahead of you, making sure you were unable to catch up with him. But now he's slipped from that step and you've caught up and you're deriding him.

Nonetheless, you're his only hope right now.

He looks at you.

Your hair is tucked behind your ears and your teeth are currently creating dents at the eraser of your pencil. You're concentrating, seeming like you've forgotten that he's sitting in front of you. And Tsukishima's eyes are extremely blurred, but when he looks at you through the gap between his glasses and forehead, your face was somehow clearer.

"Are you a dog?" he raises a brow. "Don't chew on your pencil."

You huff like you're being scold and place your pencil down. But the chewing didn't last a second as your bottom lip is now tucked between your teeth. Tsukishima rolls his eyes.

"Here," he flips his paper and shows it to you. "Did I do it correctly?"

You take the paper from him and read it. He hopes you're at least slightly impressed, that you're not arbitrating his answers nor think they're half-assed. When your red pen moves into a slant, the corner of his lip twitches upwards. But when you circle the number, he has this urge to shove that pen into your eye.

"Hm, not bad. But not enough." you flip the paper.

70.

Four points less.

"Damn it." You can tell he's disappointed at himself. "You suck at teaching."

"Excuse me?!" Your eyebrows furrow. "Hey, I've spent the past four hours teaching you here, stickhead. The sun's almost down!"

"Do you have to go home already?" He asks. You shrug. "Then we can stay here until they're done with practice."

"Tsukishima, I have freshly cooked doburi waiting for me at home. Do you know what donburi is? Do you know what it tastes like while it's still hot? Fucking donburi, Tsukishima." You whine. "Would you like to study at my place instead?"

You seem to not have processed what you've offered, but Tsukishima has. He's surprised at your comment, watching you look so desperate to get home and eat that "fucking donburi." He waits for a moment until you realize and you do, but it seemed like you didn't care when you lean back and raise a brow.

"Well?"

"Sure."

His quick, almost unhesitant compliance surprises you. Tsukishima adjusts his glasses and brings his headphones out as you both head out the door. You lock it behind you, with Tsukishima already walking ahead.

You pass by the gym. "Sawamura, everyone, we're heading out!"

Tsukishima appears beside you. "We're going."

"To where?" Yamaguchi approaches you both. "Are you going to eat out? Ooh, can you bring food back here?"

"We're going to her place to study." He answers. "We can't come back."

The others seem to hear what he said, because Hinata yells: "What kind of studying are you going to do, Stingyshima?"

"Something that your tiny shit-for-brains can't comprehend." He retorts. "Focus on your receives, squirt!"

You wave to everyone and catch a glimpse of Yamaguchi's smile. You roll your eyes at him and poke your tongue out.

🏐 —

The way home was quieter than you expected.

Mainly because Tsukishima had his headphones on and all you hear was your un synchronous footsteps on the stoned sidewalk. You take small looks at your peripherals to see what he's doing. And, well, he's walking... like every other normal person.

But you're walking side by side and there's this space between you that's so close but also so far away. You feel his heat touching the fabric of your shirt, his hand twitching and just barely grazing yours. Then he speaks:

"You walk like a penguin," he says. "Why are you like that?"

"Why are you so annoying?" you roll your eyes. "I don't point out how you walk."

"That's because there's nothing wrong with my walk," he puts his headphones down, hangs them around his neck. "What? Got a stick up your ass or something?"

"I'll stab you with that stick."

"Gross."

You turn a corner and he follows suit like it was normal for him to follow you around. When you stop in front of your gate and unlock it, he bore no unhestiance as he removed his shoes and entered your home.

There was no one else around. And as soon as Tsukishima entered, you disappeared in his vision. Although, he hears you yell from afar: "Set your bag wherever. Stay in the living room though!"

He assumes you're either changing your clothes, getting a bowl of donburi, or both. He obeys, sets his bag on the floor and sits cross legged on the carpet of your living room, taking his notes out. He sees the sun inching away behind the roofs of the houses near by, waiting for you patiently.

And then his eyes roam to picture frames.

Never would he think that a picture of you smiling would be so endearing. That smile of yours, painting you an angelic aura, like people would never expect that you'd be the devil's descendant. Nonetheless, you were still beautiful.

The picture was you in a ponytail, face doused in sweat; the background, although blurry and dark, looked familiar. But Tsukishima was more focused on your gleaming smile, the way your eyes are almost closed and your lips were pale and your teeth were shiny.

"Hey, douchebag," you sit beside him despite the free space on the opposite of the coffee table, setting down two bowls of donburi. And yes, you had changed your clothes into something comfier. "Let's eat and study."

He never expected that you'd get him a bowl, thought that he'd have to ask or drop hints of him wanting donburi. He takes it though, and it is freshly cooked. He now understood your eagerness to go home.

An hour passes by.

The bowls are empty and set aside. Tsukishima's notes are scattered, hair disheveled from him constantly running his fingers through them. That string of hatred between you has been put aside as you both seem to tolerate one another through this session.

"Tsukishima," you say, almost sternly, placing two cartons of strawberry milk on the table. "It's easy to determine an adverb in Japanese. It's no different in identifying it in English."

"I know that, dumbass. What are you, a consciousness?" He takes his box, taking the plastic off the straw and shoving it on the circular foil. "Gimme yours."

He takes your carton and shakes it before doing the same and handing it to you. You blush vehemently, murmuring your gratitude and wrapping your lips around the paper straw.

Tsukishima's eyes wander out of boredom, tracing every corner and every ridge of your home. Until his eyes land on the sliding door to your backyard and catch a glimpse of that familiar blue and yellow ball.

"You play volleyball?" he queries, both his eyebrows raising.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Back in middle school."

"Bet you were shit at it."

"I was a middle blocker."

Tsukishima's back straightens, staring at you in hidden surprise. "At that height?"

"I'm not that short! Asshole," you throw your pen at him. He catches it with ease, setting it beside his notebook.

"Why aren't you in the women's volleyball club, then?" his brow raises. "Too short? They didn't take you? Failed the tryouts?"

You look down at your fingers, covered in peeled up skin and charred fingernails. You feel embarrassed, avoiding his eager stare. You sense his want to know your reason, radiating off his eyes.

"Not saying," you push yourself up, now standing in front of him. Tsukishima's eyes follow you, trailing uo from your thighs up to your neck, his irises darkening until he meets your gaze. "Get up. Time to go home."

"Let's play."

You stammer. "W-what? It's late."

"And I want to see you play." Tsukishima stands, hovering over you. "It's only nine in the evening."

You purse your lips, arms going limp on either side of your tired body. Though despite being worn out, you walk towards the door and slide it open, being greeted by Miyagi's brumal air that raises the hairs on your body. Tsukishima tugs on the sleeves of his sweater, covering half of his fingers, before following you out.

Barefoot in the evening, with the moon casting a pearlescent glow on your enervated bodies, the thump of the leather ball is in sync with your beating heart; and at each thump, it seems to wake Tsukishima up more.

"Tell me why you're not in the women's volleyball club," he sets it towards your direction.

"No." Your wrists join, your right fingers placing themselves on top of your left fingers, both thumbs settled side by side as your wrist ricochet the ball towards him. "It's none of your business."

Tsukishima catches it with ease. "You're lame."

You scoff, returning the ball. "I am not."

The blue and yellow ball floats into the evening air, the bright colors darkened by the stygian sky, only luminated by the moon and the lights outside your backyard. Tsukishima sets it to you again. "Listen, I don't really care about whatever your reason is. I just want to know."

You huff. There's no harm in telling your enemy a secret of yours, right? It's not like he was popular enough to go on and tell people. And like he said, he didn't care.

The ball comes in contact with your wrists. "I got injured. Well, not seriously injured. I can still play but I'm not as good as I used to be." Tsukishima catches the ball and rests it on his hip, listening to you explain. "I actually got a surgery at my calf."

You lift your pajamas just below your knee, showing the healed scar at the back of your calf. "The bone got dislocated 'cause one of my teammates smashed onto my leg when she was trying to save the ball. She got injured too, actually."

"Obviously," he retorts, now staring at your calf. Something about Tsukishima staring at your scar seemed too intimate as it should be, staring at your bare skin. His blonde hair drapes over his forehead, glasses glinting in the moonlight. "So where do you struggle?"

"Blocking. I can't jump properly." You scratch the back of your neck. "I can set though. Just, it's not in my heart."

"It's just a club," he says. "Play whatever position you want." Tsukishima sets the ball to you again.

"Just a club, huh?" You smirk. "Why'd you fail your test?"

"Because I was thinking too much of what I was gonna do when I'm at court again."

"And it's just a club."

"What's it to you?" He snaps. "At least I'm in the Volleyball club. Have I taken your dream?"

"You're a child."

"Yeah yeah. Join the club or whatever. Don't care if you don't or you want to."

You set it back to him again. "I want to."

Tsukishima senses your melancholy longing for the sport, sees your disheartened look as you think about all the chances you've lost. His heart twinges just the slightest, holding the ball between his slender hands. He almost pities you.

"Tell you what," he sets it to you. "If I pass the retest tomorrow, I'll help you with your blocking. If not," he shrugs, catching your return, "good luck with your life."

"You sound like this is a once in a lifetime opportunity." You roll your eyes.

Tsukishima hopes he passes the retest tomorrow.

Mainly because it was import to him to ace it. Partly because he wanted to see you on court.

🏐 —

100.

You read Tsukishima's answers. In the fluorescent lights, his neat handwriting presents to you all the knowledge he's obtained from your chaotic teachings. He scoffs proudly, resting his lower back on the edge of his table.

"Not bad, nerd." You hand his paper to him. "And you beat me by two points."

"That's because you're an idiot," he sits down on his chair, though still facing you. "See you at the gym later."

Your brows furrow. "The gym's closed. Coach Ukai said today's rest day."

"But I'm not Coach Ukai," he fixes his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "It's just for today. And only today."

"Fine," you agree. You act like you're forced to say yes, but deep inside the vessels of your heart and every part of your brain, they throb with excitement.

So you meet Tsukishima outside the gym after class in a white shirt and gym shorts. He meets you there, clad in the same outfit, heat radiating off his body that warms your always cold flesh. For a moment he admires observes you, your attire unfamiliar but nevertheless appealing hideous.

When you enter, the court seemed bigger without the boys rousing around the court. It was quieter, no shoes squeaking, no balls slammed, no eager yelling. You set your bag down on the floor and see your untied shoe laces.

"Fuck," you mutter.

But before you could bend down, Tsukishima has already knelt in front of you.

His knee rests on the tip of your shoe, fingers ribboning the laces of your rubber shoes. Your eyes widen, body stiffening, and it felt like forever as he tied it (it was actually only 10 seconds).

"You're a dumbass for leaving your shoelaces untied." He makes no comment as to why he's decided to tie your laces, but you swear you see his ears turn a twinge of pink.

Tsukishima takes a ball and goes to the other side of the court. When you stand opposite from him, he rolls the ball to your direction.

"How long has it been since you've played?" he asks, loudly, voice echoing across the empty gymnasium.

"Uh, a year and a half." The ball bounces between your palm and the squeaky floor. "I'm a little rusty."

"You are rusty. Your receives were shit last night."

You growl at his tease.

"We're not gonna start with the blockings. We have to start from the beginning." Tsukishima positions himself, knees bent and apart, his hands on his knees. "Serve it."

So you do. You toss the ball into the air, your hand striking as it meets the ball, and it flies across the net. It goes outside.

"Idiot." Tsukishima laughs. "First, don't try to aim it to me. You don't want your opponents to save it. You have to aim it at an open spot inside the line. Second, don't serve too hard it goes outside."

"Okay!" You yell. And you serve again.

The ball grazes the net, but the momentum deems the ball to be inside the line. Tsukishima catches it and receives it back to your side.

Shit.

You race after the ball, joined wrists hitting it back to him. He dives, the back of his hand coming contact with the ball and it goes back to your court.

And it's high in the air, so you take the chance to bend your knees and jump, spiking it to his court.

Tsukishima blocks it.

He laughs. "You're horrible at this."

"I don't exactly have a libero to save it, don't I?" You retort.

Tsukishima smiles a little, laughing at your loss point. "Give me the ball." You roll it to his side. "I want you to try and block me."

"The net is higher than it is for girls, you know." You approach the net. "I'll have a hard time."

"The higher you jump, the better you can block the ball. And you'll even have an advantage against your enemies since you're practicing with a higher net, (y/n)." He dribbles the ball.

Tsukishima called you by your first name.

Not your surname, not some insulting nickname. Your first name.

Your knees weaken at the sound of his voice dropping the phonemes of your name.

But when he flings the ball upwards, you feel your body go rigid. And just before his incoming ball passes through the net, you jump, fingers stopping the ball.

But the ball doesn't go to his side, instead it falls down below the net, at your side. You land clumsily on your feet, ankle bending but not painfully.

"See, you got it. You just have to jump higher."

"Shut up, you stilt walking clown." Your leg throbs, shaking. "Hit it again."

"See this?" Tsukishima brings his hands in the air, his arms and hands bent inward. "You block like this. Don't straighten your arms. It sets the ball upwards and they get the point since you're last touch. Block me again."

You kick the ball to his direction. Tsukishima springs the ball into the air once more, his arm flinging back when he jumps and strikes the ball towards you.

Filled with adrenaline, you jump as high as you could, your chest as high as the edge of the net, arms and hands bent inward as you block the ball and ricochet it towards him.

He doesn't do anything and watches the ball roll outside the court. Tsukishima's eyes shoot up and look at you, the corner of his lips bent downwards in amusement.

"Not bad. Try harder though."

You snarl at him.

Hours pass and you're both drenched in sweat. His shirt sticks to his chest, his hair damp across his forehead. He's wiping his face with a towel and his glasses rest on top of his hair. You drink from your water bottle.

The sweat drips down the tip of his nose, golden eyes drowsy yet vigorous with adrenaline. His lips are parted to pant out tired breaths, his adam's apple bobbing, the veins of his arms protruding. And he's sitting at the same bench as yours.

You swallow the liquid in your mouth.

"One day of practice isn't enough to get me into the club, Tsukishima." you say, wiping your mouth. "Thanks for teaching me though."

Tsukishima sets his towel down. "It's whatever. Your receives are go-fine, anyway. And you're really not that tall enough to block. You're hopeless."

"I wish Hinata was here to say that so he could yell at you."

Hinata. Tsukishima feels something uncomfortable rise to his chest when you mention his name.

And it seems as though you have summoned that tiny tangerine devil.

"Oh, Kageyama! The lights are open, someone must be here," your head turns and see that Hinata's hair pokes out the door before his head fully goes in. His eyes roam around until they find you. "Oh! (y/l/n)-san!"

"Hinata," you smile kindly. "Why are you guys still here? There's no training today."

"Tanaka-san said we can train for as much as we want as long as we don't tell Sawamura." he hops inside, Kageyama following suit behind him, unzipping his jacket. "What are you doing here, Stingyshima?"

"None of your business." He replies, irritation dripping off his sharp tongue from the nickname. "What do you think we were doing? Playing kendama?"

"I wouldn't mind playing kendama," Hinata looks at Kageyama, who shrugs. "Can we join?"

"Hopeless child," Tsukishima rubs his face with his towel again. "It's getting late. We should go home."

His usage of plural rather than sigular denotes that his usual selfishness has been decreased due to your unwavering presence, having been spent multiple hours with you for the past two days than usual. Tsukishima has easily adapted to include you in whatever he was going to do next.

We should go home.

"Aw, well, can you leave us the keys?" Hinata asks you. Tsukishima shoves the keys in the small boy's hand. "Thank you, Stingyshima!"

Tsukishima slings his bag over his shoulder, approaching the exit. He looks at Kageyama. "Fix your sets, your Majesty. You wouldn't want to clip the wings of Karasuno now, would you?"

You can see the smirk formed in his face. Kageyama is fuming, his fists clenching. "You– I...– You piece of shi– Hnmgh– You dumbass! Hinata!"

"Why me?!"

Tsukishima walks away without waiting for you, although you follow suit behind him. And when you reach the school gates, he turns right rather than left—and his way home begins with him turning left.

Yours was to the right.

"You gonna walk me home?" You joke, finally catching up behind him. Your weary legs has made you walk slower, though enough to now keep up with Tsukishima's tired pace.

"Yes."

Tsukishima doesn't spare a glance at you. But you look at him in shock. Then you shoot him an upsidedown smile, humming.

"No longer Stingyshima, I see."

"I ought to leave you here and get kidnapped." He states bluntly, finally looking down at you through his peripherals.

"Why are you walking me home then?"

"Because I want to take a long walk."

"Yeah sure, whatever." Your hands meet behind you, hitting the top of your bottom at every step you take. "You wanted to take a long walk. Could've gone to the park, could've roamed around your street. But yeah, you're walking me home so you could have a long walk back to your home."

Tsukishima tuts, his arms crossing. "Are you implying something, (y/n)?"

Your first name. Again.

"Oh, I'm not implying anything!" Your eyebrows raise, looking fully at him. And Tsukishima turns his head and looks at you as he walks. "I'm just stating what I've observed, Tsukki."

"Don't call me that."

"Okay!" You turn to your gate. When you reach inside the small box and pull on the lever of your door, you sense that Tsukishima is still standing behind you wth his hands in his pockets, watching you intently. So you turn around when the gate unlocks. "Yes? Do you need to use my bathroom first? Want a carton of milk or something?"

"No." He says. "Get in already."

You rest your back at your gate. "Tell me the real reason why you walked me home."

"No."

"So you lied to me earlier?"

"N-no."

"So what is it?"

Tsukishima sighs. Then he takes a few steps, approaching you and bends down so that his face would be equal to yours.

His scent is sweet, like freshly picked strawberries. And his lips, though thin, was soft and pink. And the tip of his nose grazes just above yours. And his golden eyes narrow to gaze at every speck of your irises. The corner of his lip turns upwards.

"That shut you up." He says. You blush, and he seems to taunt you. "Still want to play volleyball?"

His breath is hot fanning over your cold face. You can't help but nod. You swallow thickly from the close proximity that Tsukishima has created.

"Okay. Well, I still need help with english. And you obviously still need help with volleyball. So you reap what you sow. We'll help each other."

Tsukishima says those words like they're a command. Like they're being read from sacred scriptures. An event waiting to be happened for a prophecy to be fulfilled. Tsukishima's tone was flat but his voice deemed importance.

"Okay," was all you managed to let out through a breath. "See you tomorrow?"

Tsukishima stands up, eyes you up and down. Then looks into your eyes again and you swear that his gaze softens.

"See you tomorrow."

🏐—

A few weeks pass by.

At mornings, Tsukishima has come to pick you up and you studied on the way to Karasuno. You spend your lunches together, along with Yamaguchi, as well as Hinata and Kageyama who—while also bickering like children—listen to whatever you teach Tsukishima.

After classes, you find yourself joining the boys at the volleyball club, with Tsukishima helping you practice your blocks and receives. Though you notice that the boys take their strengths down a notch, which you are somewhat grateful for — because they truly are strong, and you're not ready to catch up to their level yet.

And at nights, Tsukishima walks you home with a milk carton in hand and sharp remarks in his mouth.

There's still a thick smoke of hatred that covers the both of you, that string of annoyance wrapped around your fingers. Yet as days pass by, that smoke has been thinning at every civil interaction. Albeit that annoyance still lingered.

And until today, that smoke has turned into this very light fog, until you begin to question why you hated Tsukishima in the first place.

Your phone vibrates.

tsukishima. Where are you? 8:32am

you. almost there. forgot my bag at home. 8:33am

tsukishima. Hurry up. It's cold outside. 8:33am

you. will do. sorry :| Read at 8:34am

Tsukishima is standing outside the gates of Karasuno, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed as you quickened the pace of your walk.

"You're so slow it's annoying," his eyebrows furrow. "Why'd you forget your bag? Idiot."

"You pressure me, douchebag." You flick the bridge of his glasses. He yelps. "Hurry. I want to study already. We have a quiz at 9."

When you and Tsukishima sit on your respective seats, you quiz each other with lazily scribbled flash cards. He seems to have absorbed the passed on knowledge and had answered the questions with ease.

So after the quiz, he seemed content; confident.

"How well did you think you did, beanpole?" You zip your bag.

"Well enough to beat your ass," he replies. Then, he does something new.

He smiles at you.

It wasn't a bright smile. Not energetic, but radiates some kind of light happiness. Seemed like a smile of gratitude.

You feel your cheeks flare.

After classes, you meet outside the gym as always, both of you changed into training clothes. Then you spend hours and hours jumping and tiring your wrists out, squeaking your shoes off the floor.

By the time the sun has set, Tsukishima was waiting for you again.

"Let's study."

Your eyes widen and you look startled. Tsukishima looks bored. "I'm pretty sure you got yourself covered for the rest of the year, Tsukishima."

"And I don't think you can train by yourself in volleyball," he adjusts his bag. "Let's just study. Reap what you sow."

"You keep saying that."

He ignores you. "Let's study at my place."

"E-excuse me?"

Tsukishima begins to walk to his direction. And despite your reaction, you follow him either way. "Let's study at my place for a change. I'm sick of your living room."

He says it like he's spent years hanging out in your living room. Your feet runs on the cobblestone to catch up with him. "But- What else are we gonna study?"

"Whatever I want."

His house wasn't actually that far from the campus. When you've turned a corner, he opens the gate and lets you in. When you enter his home, it's warm and clean, so you set your shoes aside and walk in your socks.

No one's home.

Tsukishima could've led you to their living room. Instead, he goes directly to his bedroom. And when you don't move, he looks at you through the door with a raised brow, as if to say "well? why aren't you getting in?"

So you do.

You sit on the edge of his bed, watching him unzip his jacket and set it aside. You decide to stop acting so wary and let you back fall to his bed, taking your phone out.

"So when are your tryouts?"

You look at him, placing your phone on your chest. "Next week. Michimiya was nice enough to let me try this late into the school year."

"I'll be there." He sits down on the other side of his bed.

"Oh," you're stunned. "Okay. Um, what do you want to study?"

You pull yourself up until your whole body is on his bed, sitting up and resting your back at his headboard. Tsukishima brings his legs to the bed, resting them beside your socked feet.

"Chemistry." This is new. "Can you run me through it?"

And you do. You take your notebook our and run him by all the lessons discussed for the past week. Tsukishima's pretends to listen but he actually doesn't.

Instead he's staring at your scar at your leg, up and down your very exposed thigh, but mostly at your scar.

You notice this immediately. "Tsukishima, why are you staring at my scar?"

"It's Kei," he looks at you, his hand resting just beside your calf, index finger twitching to trace the ridges of your scar. "Call me Kei."

Kei.

"Okay, Kei."

Your voice, filled with dulcets, his name sounding mellifluous as it rolls of your tongue. Tsukishima's heart beats wildly, and has decided to come with the terms that he hates you— because he likes you.

"Your scar looks... cool..." his index finger finally sets on the soft skin of your healed wound. You shiver at his featherlight touch.

And he's so near you now. As near as that time he walked you home and bent down to your height. And gods, he was so handsome. Even with his scratched glasses. Your mouth gapes the slightest, shaking hands reaching to remove the spectacles off his nose.

Tsukishima lets you. You see sweetness of his stare, all that hatred you used to see seemed to have melted and dripped from his sweat. This kind of Tsukishima is new– foreign, yet seemed right. Seemed destined to happen.

"Kei," you murmur. "What are you doing?"

"Is your skull too thick to process your environment?" his laugh leaves him in a huff, smirking.

"You're so eager for me to teach you something you're already good at so you could keep training me," your brows meet in the middle the slightest, a crease on your forehead that Tsukishima wants to wipe away. "Why?"

"Because you're good, (y/n)." He declares. "Your injury isn't stopping you to perform your best. You're just scared."

"Then why not just train me without me having to tutor you?"

"Because I don't want to lose these kind of moments." he whispers. "Jesus, (y/n), I like you. It's why I brought you here, for fuck's sake."

His lips are warm compared to his cold hands.

You gasp, though eyes fluttering shut, and your eyelashes tickle his soft cheeks. Your fingers wrap around his wrist as he holds your delicate face in the palm of his hands, careful not to hurt you as his lips remain planted on yours.

When Tsukishima pulls away, he's not far from you. His lips hover over yours, breathing your air, his forehead resting just slightly on yours. Your fingers come up to tangle themselves on his silky hair.

"Lose moments like what, make out with me?" you giggle. "If you wanted to make out, Kei, just tell me."

"You never shut up, do you?"

His lips meet yours again in an open mouthed kiss, his tongue unabashed to graze your shy muscle. You hum in surprise, feeling yourself fall backwards when he gently cradles your head to rest on his sweet-scented pillow.

Somehow, you did meet up with your end of the bargain, only with something better.

Something better– like his hips slanted against yours as his mouth spreads shameless ardor across your body.

Something better– like how he whispers your name against your lips like a sacred prayer before he kisses you again carefully.

Something better– like a newfound relationship with Tsukishima Kei, someone you swore was your enemy, but now was someone you could spend your days with in his bed getting warm in ways fire couldn't.

Tsukishima looks into your eyes, tells you his secrets through his dilating pupils. His calloused fingers push your hair behind your ears, and then he kisses your forehead, followed by silk petal kisses on the plump of your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and then your lips.

His hands wander beneath your shirt, palms no longer cold as they're heated by the fervor of your body.

"You're so pretty."

"What a sap." you tease. "You're in love with me."

"I am." His nose rubs against yours lightly. "I so am. I'm in love with a dumbass. My ego has exploded."

You hit his face with a pillow.

reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated!

#tsukishima kei x reader #haikyuu #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima fluff #kei tsukishima x reader #tsukishima haikyu #tsukishima kei #haikyu x reader #haikyu fluff #haikyuu tsukishima #kei tsukishima #tsukishima x you #tsukishima x y/n #hq tsukishima

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nerdy-novelist017 · 3 months

Text

Rooftop Conversations (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader Pt 4)

On my drive home yesterday, I heard Zach Bryan's Oklahoma Smokeshow for the first time and I realized it's so Benny x Bunny coded :) I'm curious to know what song reminds you of Benny x Bunny! As always, I so so so appreciate all your comments!

Benny x Bunny Masterlist here!

Word Count- 3.1k+ (longest one yet!)

Summary- Another night spent with Benny was sure to be an adventure filled with firsts for both of you.

******

Benny told you he knew a place to eat that had real food. You were about to tell him that Ricardo’s did have good food, but he all but pulled you into the back of his bike in an effortless move that silenced your voice with a soft gasp. The adrenaline surged through you as fresh as the first time he had given you a ride and you wondered if you would always feel this feeling riding on the back of his bike.

He drove you to the other end of town again and you couldn’t hide the surprise on your face as he pulled up to a bar, parking next to a lineup of other motorcycles.

“A bar?” You asked as he helped you off the bike.

“Not exactly what Pete would have picked,” Benny replied coolly as he dismounted. “But the best food ‘round.”

“Well, I’m mad at him so who cares what he’d pick.” You grinned as you followed him to the door.

Inside, the bar was alive with music, voices and bustling bodies. Benny’s hand found the small of your back and gently guided you toward the far tables. Ignoring the rush of butterflies at the contact, you tried to focus on the familiar faces from the picnic who cheered when you entered with Benny but you blushed, looking down at your feet. A couple people clapped Benny on the back as he passed and you felt sort of like a prize and he was the winner. He found an empty table at the back, and you took a seat, facing the room.

“I’ll get you a drink,” he announced before he disappeared into the crowd, moving towards the bar. You glanced about the bar, taking in the rustic setting and colorful characters. Then suddenly, the leader of the Vandals himself was in front of you, sliding into the unoccupied chair.

“You’re Benny’s girl, right?” Johnny asked and before you could correct him – or rather ask exactly what he meant by that – he continued, “It’s nice to see you here again. The boys all really liked your cookies. Sure was sweet of you to bring that.”

You nodded, muttering a soft thanks.

“My wife was wonderin’ if you could give her your recipe – for the cookies, I mean. Maybe you could tell her at another meeting,” he said, tapping his fingers over the tabletop. He’s trying to be friendly, you realized. Trying to include you in the club somehow. Warmth filled your chest at the idea of a club filled with bikers could possibly like you enough to want you around. You wondered if they just aimed to make you the center of every inappropriate joke that would inevitably be thrown out. Regardless, you still felt flattered at the notion.

Charmed, you replied, “I–It's nothing too difficult. I’m sure she could recreate it.”

He hummed. “Well, maybe some of the guys would like to see you ‘round, too. It’s good for ‘em to be ‘round such a civilized lady as yourself. Might even be able to whip ‘em into shape.”

“I don’t know about that,” you grinned sheepishly, rubbing your shoulder. For being the leader of a motorcycle club, he wasn’t as scary as you originally thought. Intimidating, definitely, but not terrifying.

“You whipped our boy Benny into shape! And hell, if you can do that in just the few hours you spent with him, think of all the good you could do for the Vandals. You’d be like a god amongst men here.” The lines around his eyes creased as he bantered.

Heat climbed up your neck at the implication and you broke his eye contact. “I’m sure Benny acts like that with every girl he’s trying to sleep with.”

“I’ve never seen him act the way he does when you’re around. It’s like you’ve hypnotized him.” A mirthful grin overtook his ruggedly handsome face. “You’re not a siren, are ya? Leading him off to his watery demise?”

You giggled, shaking your head.

“Good, can’t have that – it’s bad for business.” He stood, using his foot to slide the chair back in. “Plus, ya know, I kind of like that kid. He’s rough around the edges and damn near feral at times, but he’s a good kid. Has a good heart. I think he’d take care of ya. That’s all he wants, I think. Someone to love ‘em and someone he can show he’s capable of lovin’ too. ”

Bemused, you fell quiet and before you could reply, Benny reappeared, two bottles in hand and he nodded at his friend, “Johnny.”

You glanced between the two as you felt the gravity of their friendship sparking. It was clear that Benny had not heard Johnny’s previous words because if he had, you were sure he wouldn’t appreciate the wingman stunt. And though you didn’t know Benny hardly at all, it was clear in the way he nodded at Johnny that this was an important relationship in his life, possibly one of the only friendships he had. Something heartening stirred in you as you pictured Benny going to him for advice, for brotherly connection.

“Benny,” Johnny returned innocuously and he shot you a secretive smile before disappearing into the crowd again.

“He wasn’t teasin’ you, was he?” Benny asked lightheartedly as his gaze found you again.

“No,” you replied with a small smile, mind still sifting through the information Johnny had left you.

“Good, I’m the only one that can do that,” he stated and your eyes widened slightly at his confidence. “I didn’t figure you were the type to order a beer,” he explained as he slid the coke bottle in your direction. You wrapped your fingers around the cold glass, internally beaming at the thought of him second-guessing himself when it came to ordering you a drink.

“Not usually,” you answered as he sat down in the seat next to you, a fresh beer bottle in his hands. “You must think I’m pretty boring.”

“I think you’re anything but.” He smiled, his eyes seeming to be alight with a playful seductiveness. A dare, you realized. That’s what his mischievous look was; a dare, to be bold, to be adventurous. It stirred something in your gut chest that you didn’t know was dormant until now.

“Well, in that case . . .” You quirked your brow as you slid your coke bottle across the table stopping in front of him and grabbed his beer bottle which he had already opened and took a swig from. You brought it up to your lips, the smell making your stomach flip before you sipped a generous serving. The alcohol burned as it went down and you winced, nearly coughing.

Benny laughed. You were certainly something to keep him on his toes. He opened your soda bottle and moved it forward to cheers with you. The bottles clinked together and you smiled, making his heart flutter. Without breaking eye-contact, he lifted your coke bottle to his mouth and drank from it and nearly lost it when you mirrored him with the beer bottle. You sip was considerably shorter than his and you screwed up your face at the taste afterwards but he was still impressed by your sudden intrepidity. Just as he thought he was starting to figure you out, you’d surprise him with a new and exciting action. And Benny lived for the thrill of it. It was his turn to surprise you.

“What do you want out of life?” he asked abruptly as he set the bottle down.

Your brows rose at the severity of his question. “That’s . . . a deep question.”

“You don’t have an answer?”

“I have an answer, it’s just . . . that’s not something I expect on the first date. First date questions are more like ‘What’s your favorite color? What kind of music do you like? If you could travel anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?’ Stuff like that.” You explained, voice lowering as you played with the wrapping on the beer bottle. A nervous distraction, he realized as he watched your delicate fingers.

“This is our first date?” he quipped, living for the way your eyes shot back up to his, a blush coating your nose and cheeks. “I thought it was when I gave you a ride home last night.”

“No, that was just a ride home.” You stood your ground, but gaze still fluttering back to the bottle.

“Oh,” he pretended to look down as if he were in deep thought. “Then what’s your favorite color?”

He watched as you tilted your head and fought to hold back a smile. “Yellow, like the sunrise in the early mornings. What’s yours?”

He made a mental note of that. “Red, like that red lipstick you're wearing right now.”

At that, your smile grew and he felt a swell of confidence so he continued, “What kind of music do you like?”

You giggled at the realization that he was playing into your game. “I listen to a lot of The Ronettes . . . and Elvis. Let me guess, you like The Rolling Stones?”

“Are you judgin' me by my cover, Bunny?” He grinned. “I also like Johnny Cash.”

“That makes sense. You seem like a character Johnny Cash would sing about," You said flippantly and brought the beer bottle back up to your lips for another sip and Benny was so enamored by the way your head tipped back, delicate neck exposed that he didn’t even realize you had teased him.

“If you could travel anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?” he continued after a moment to compose himself as he drank from the coke bottle, wishing it was something stronger.

You seemed to ponder that for a second. “I’m not sure. I’ve always wanted to go to California.”

“Why is that?”

“I’ve never been to the beach and when I was a little girl, my mom had this magazine that dedicated an entire issue to the beaches of California. It looked so fun,” you described, your eyes lighting up.

Benny imagined the sight of you in a swimsuit – one of those new bikinis he’d seen Aubrey Hepburn wear on tv – and he nearly groaned.

“What about you?” you asked innocently, drawing him back to reality.

“The beach in California,” he replied instantly.

“Why?”

“Because you’d be there.”

You blushed, a smile encompassing your beautiful face and you looked down at the glass bottle again.

Benny leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. “What other first date questions do you have for me, Bunny?”

******

The night was spent with smiles, stories and plenty of teasing (the latter of which was mostly Benny’s doing) and you hadn’t realized how late it was getting, too absorbed in the attention of the ocean blue eyes of the man sitting next to you. You both ate dinner (Benny insisting on the best meal was their burgers and you had to agree) and you had finished the beer but Benny replaced it with another coke afterwards. Hours passed and the rest of the patrons began to leisurely shuffle out, each calling out goodnight as they went. There were only a few left now, you realized as you glanced about the bar. Then, Benny asked if you wanted to see something.

He seized your hand in his and took you through the back of the bar, down the hallway and out the back door. The cool nighttime air was a refreshing change from the cigarette filled clubhouse. He led you around back to a closed in ladder leading to the roof. He opened the cage door and motioned for you first. You shot him an expected look.

“I’m not going up first!” You tried to act serious as you crossed your arms playfully, feeling an funny buzz from the drink.

“Why not?” he grinned, yeilding.

“Because, you just want to look up my skirt as I go.” You quirked a brow at him. “I’m not stupid, you know.”

“No, you definitely aren’t stupid. And I would never. I’m a gentleman.” He held a hand over his heart as if he was hurt by your insinuation.

“Yeah, sure you are,” You said, holding your ground.

He held up his arms in an appeasing way. “Alright, I’ll go up first. Just don’t trip and fall on your way up.”

You laughed as you began making your way up the ladder after him. You climbed up the two stories, the ladder clinking beneath each heel until you made it to the top where Benny offered a hand to help you up. A gentle breeze guided you to the far end of the rooftop where a generous view of the town lights, each twinkling like the stars above. You’d never seen this perspective of your little home town and it almost looked magical.

Benny went forward and lowered himself to sit down. He beckoned you to follow and, though you were scared, you moved to mirror his seat. He held your hand as you took a seat next to him. Your legs, significantly shorter than his, dangled off the edge, bumping lightly against the brick wall. He was close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body, close enough that your shoulders touched slightly.

“Wow, what a view, huh?” you said, voice barely above a whisper as the scent of his cologne wrapped around you.

Benny only nodded and you looked at him with a small smile, falling into a comfortable silence. Your gaze fluttered over his face, taking in the details in this dim lighting. His dilated pupils made his eyes darker and the shadow of his nose blended beautifully onto his lips. The gentle curl of his hair looked so soft and you didn’t even realize that your hand was reaching out. And maybe you tried to tell yourself that it was from the alcohol, but you knew you weren’t drunk. You touched him because you wanted to. Your fingers found the blonde tendrils and a gentle sigh escaped your lips because they were soft. His eyes were locked onto you and he remained unmoving, letting you take the reins.

“Do you actually want to marry me? Or were you just sayin’ that to get a reaction out of me?” you whispered, hand dropping back to your lap, fingers still tingling from the contact.

“Yes, I want to marry you.” His voice was a low rumble disrupting the silence of the rooftop.

You studied his face carefully, unable to look away. “How could you know that so soon?”

“You make really good cookies,” he retorted playfully and you gave him your best unamused look despite the fact that he left you very amused.

“I’m serious,” you said, fighting the smile tugging on your lips.

“I know you are,” he murmured, gaze flickering down to mouth. “I’m serious too – about marrying you and about your cookies.”

Heat filled your core. Like the undeniable pull of a magnet, you felt yourself drifting closer to him. “I bake more than just cookies, ya know.”

Benny groaned, “You’re teasin’ me, Bunny.”

“No, just letting you know what you’d be signing up with if you married me.” You smiled.

“I know exactly what I’m gettin’ myself into with you, Bunny,” he admitted slowly as he dipped his head lower, only a few inches from your face. His thumb and forefinger touched your chin softly. “Why else do you think I ran off Pete?”

You paused, brows furrowed at his words. “Wait, what?”

He didn’t seem to hear you as he continued forward and you lurched back before he could kiss you. “You did what to Pete?”

“I ran him off,” Benny explained as if it were obvious. “Had a talk with him.”

“Oh my god,” you breathed out harshly, a feeling of being drenched in icy water washed over you. “You saw him? Where?” Then it dawned on you. “You saw him at Ricardo’s? He actually showed up?”

He remained quiet, watching as you turned from the ledge, standing and began to pace as you worked through the thoughts hitting you faster than you could process.

“You ran him off? Oh my god, Benny. Is that code for something? Did you kill him?” You squeaked, the possibility of poor Pete being having to fight for his life played out like a complete disaster in your head.

“No.” He shook his head as if annoyed.

“Well what does that mean, then?” Your voice raised an octave as unease gripped your heart. “Did you beat him up?”

“I told you. I had a talk with him.” He said simply as he turned, flipping his legs over the ledge and faced you.

“You intimidated him! You with your loud bike and leather jacket and mean look, it wasn’t just a talk. He doesn’t deserve that. Pete is a good guy.”

Benny lifted his hands up in a placating way but the sarcastic look on his face caused anger to spike through you.

“What makes you think you had the right to do that?” You demanded as you planted your hands on your hip. “Where do you get off from?”

He opened his mouth to say something but thought better and closed it.

“You intimidated my date,” you snapped. “A date I was actually excited for by the way. He was kind and . . . had a nice smile.”

“I don’t see the problem,” he mumbled, narrowing his eyes at the ground in front of you.

“You don’t–” your mouth dropped open in shock, blood boiling at his audacity. You threw your hands up in exasperation as you spun away and made your way back to the ladder.

“Where are you going?” Benny called out as he trailed after you.

“I’m going home so I can call Pete and apologize.” You retorted over your shoulder. And probably check to see if he's not been put in the hospital because of the biker behind you.

Benny laughed. “I thought you said you were mad at him,”

“Well, I’m not anymore. I’m mad at you now,” You fumed as you shot him a look before you descended the ladder.

“Me?” Benny scrambled down the ladder after you but you didn’t slow your pace as you rounded the outside of the bar, heading for the sidewalk. It would be a long walk home, but you had no interest in getting a ride home from him.

He jogged to catch up, grabbing your arm to halt you. “I didn’t hurt ‘em. I swear.”

You spun around to face him. “That’s not the point. You men all think alike, don’t you? Thinkin' you can stake your claim like women are just . . . just objects, toys.”

Benny’s jaw clenched tightly. “I’m not goin’ to apologize for it if that’s what you’re thinking.”

You scoffed as you wrenched your arm free and turned away. You picked up your pace as you made your way down the sidewalk in the direction of you home.

“Can I at least give you a ride home?” He called out.

“Nope, I think it’s a perfect night for a walk, don’t you?” you replied without looking back, leaving Benny standing in the middle of the sidewalk in a stupefied silence.

-Tag List-

@imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos s @astrogrande @themorriganisamonster @pearlparty @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @eugene-emt-roe @charmingballoon @sunnbib @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @killerqueenfan @cynic-spirit @pomtherine @tranquilty @m00npjm @twisteduniverse5 @justsomewritingblog @nhlfs @thepassionatereader @rebecca-hvnstn @nethanybear @dreamlandcreations @buckysteveloki-me @simsiddy @zablife @sansaorgana @autumnleaves1991-blog @butler-trouble @lindszeppelin @wavyjassy @real-lana-del-rey @ilovehyperfixating @xcallmetaniax @lovenewfandoms @youngestxhearts @abaker74 4 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @thefallofthedamned @hottpinkpenguinreads

#i'm desperate for some better quality gifs of benny #benny's in trouble hehe #benny x bunny #benny cross #the bikeriders #austin butler #austin butler x reader #benny cross x reader #benny x reader #fluff #imagine #austin butler fandom #austin bulter x you #tom hardy #jodie comer #bikeriders #jeff nichols #benny #motorcycle

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mcflymemes · 2 months

Text

TREASURE PLANET (2002) PROMPTS * assorted dialogue from the disney film, adjust as necessary

you're gonna rattle the stars.

now you listen to me, [name]. you got the makings of greatness in you, but you got to take the helm and chart your own course.

look at you, glowing like a solar fire.

you're something special, [name].

let me make this as... monosyllabic as possible.

how did i describe them?

i said something rather good this morning before coffee.

there you go. poetry.

i'm an astronomer, not a doctor!

i am a doctor, but i'm not that kind of doctor. i have a doctorate. it's not the same thing. you can't help people with a doctorate.

you just sit there and you're useless.

i won't bore you with my scars.

oh shut up. you know i don't mean a word of it.

i'm starting to see my life pass in front of my eyes.

you have wonderful eyes.

yes, you. i have a question.

is it that your body is too massive for your teeny-tiny head, or is it that your head is too teeny-tiny for your big fat body?

i have one more question.

is this yours?

well, this has been a fun day.

without the map, we're dead.

if we try to leave, we're dead.

what a joke.

at least you taught me something.

that's just what i'm gonna do.

you still don't know how to pick your fights.

are you saying this because it's the right thing, or because you really want to go?

playing games, are we?

thanks for the lift, guys.

don't mention it.

this is the answer to all our problems!

don't you remember? all those stories?

would you please explain how ridiculous this is?

it's totally preposterous! traversing the galaxy alone!

now at last we hear some sense.

you flatter me, [name].

i feel like such a useless weakling.

stay out of trouble!

that was more fun than i ever want to have again.

so... uh. how'd that happen anyway?

i've got two new friends i'd like you to meet.

are your parents around?

i've got some plans to make people see me a little different.

sometimes plans go astray.

you take care now.

this should be a wonderful opportunity for the two of us to get to know one another.

with the greatest possible respect, zip your howling screamer.

we're about to get under way!

i'll follow you.

you know the rules.

maybe your ears don't work so well.

i just don't want to see you throw away your entire future.

i don't know how you manage it.

did you actually aim for that?

what is all this stuff?

wait wait wait! what about the treasure?

i don't want to lose you.

i'll make you proud.

i'm sorry, my memory isn't what it used to be.

i say we kill them all now.

all my life, i've been waiting for an opportunity like this.

#rp meme #mcflymemes #rp memes #rp prompt #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters

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st4rfckerz · 1 year

Text

car troubles | james kelly x reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: MDNI 18+, unprotected sex, breeding, praise, age gap, pet names (baby, sweetheart, pretty girl etc), very brief dry humping, a lottt of banter, mention of masturbation, cockwarming (?), afab reader

summary: your neighbor james kelly fixes your car for you while you're home alone.

a/n: i lowkey don't like this fic 😭 but it's probably not as bad as i think it is, BUT hopefully you guys enjoy it more than me :)

it was a blessing and a curse for owning an old car. it was a curse since issues flared up so frequently, but it was also a blessing because it prompted your neighbor, james kelly, to fix it for free.

james was hunched over your car's hood, with a number of tools arranged next to him.

"i doubt this'll take long at all. you just have a dead battery, and maybe a few other mishaps but other than that your car is fine." james explains.

"sounds great. thanks again for fixing my car." you give him a friendly smile. james quickly returns the smile, followed by a small laugh.

"of course, you can always count on me for these kinds of things."

"noted." I fiddle with my fingers nervously before turning away.

"i'll just be inside so just come get me if you need anything."

"alright, will do"

he gives a small nod as he watches you disappear inside. his attention turns back to the vehicle.

ever since your family moved into your home when you were 15 years old, you'd always had a small crush on james. but after you entered college and spent so much time away from home, he had aimlessly plagued your thoughts.

you didn't mean for it to happen, but he just always managed to be the only person you'd think about when you're in bed by yourself. thinking about his tall frame, his long, slender fingers, and the way his arms would shine with sweat from fixing cars all day long always sent a flash of heat through your body.

some time passes and you hear a faint knocking at your back window, followed by the door creaking open just a tad.

"hey, she should be good to go now." he spoke to you as you sit at your kitchen island.

"that was quick, usually the shop takes like, 2 hours. i'm impressed." you chuckle. james gives you a smile and a shrug.

"no need to flatter me sweetheart, I've been doin' this forever."

a shortly lived tinge of arousal goes straight to your core after hearing the sudden petname. it always surprises you when he calls you something other than your name because he rarely ever does.

"if you want you could stay and rest for a little while." you had articulated the plan earlier that day of keeping him in your home while your parents were out, just to see where it would go.

"You wouldn't mind?" james' tired, weary expression lit up and he seemed more hopeful than he had in a while.

"I wouldn't be intruding on anything?" he nervously asked.

"not at all, it's just me here anyways. my dad's at work," you explain, flashing him an innocent smile.

"there's fresh lemonade in the fridge, and if you'd like you can use the shower, i know how hot it is outside."

james cleared his throat and looked over towards you.

"that'd be really nice, actually."

you didn't think it would be so easy to have such a smart man like james fall into your trap, but somehow it worked perfectly. he was in your house, and was about to use your shower. the only thing that was on your mind was simply how much of a genius you are.

"the bathroom's right upstairs, here i'll take you," he follows you upstairs and you lead him to the bathroom.

"there's the shower, soap, shampoo all that stuff." you explain as james stands awkwardly beside you.

"sounds good, thank you i really appreciate it." his voice sounds sincere and soft.

"its no problem really, take as long as you need, i'll just be in my room." you walk out the door before closing it behind you. soon, you hear the sounds of water running from the showerhead.

eventually, you hear the bathroom door open and a small cloud of steam escaping the doorway.

james spots you laying on your bed wearing tiny blue shorts, and a small white tee.

his mouth suddenly goes dry and millions of thoughts begin to swarm around in his mind.

how could you just lay there and look so perfect?

james has been a nervous wreck ever since he arrived at your house. he knew it was wrong to be so attracted to you because of the obvious age gap, but he just couldn't help himself.

he's seen you in so many ways, so many times; outside in the pool wearing nothing but a bikini, laying in the grass wearing your skimpy shorts and tank top casually trying to get a tan, he's even watched you change your clothes right in front of your bedroom window.

he always saved those mental images of you so he could fuck his fist later on.

james clears his throat and looks over at you, standing awkwardly at your doorway.

"oh hey." you smile. james glances over your room and notices your college flag plastered on your wall.

"college huh?" he points at the flag and begins walking towards your bed.

"yeah, I'm almost done actually." you reply sitting up and swinging your legs across the side of your bed.

"how much longer do you have?" he crosses his arms and leans against the wall.

"about 6 months? i'm so ready for it to be over," you sigh heavily.

"did you go to college?" you ask him.

"trade school." james nods

"i figured, you don't seem like you were the frat boy type." you joke.

james' face lights up in amusement as he laughs a little walking over to you. he decides to take a seat right next to you on your bed

"yeah... no. definitely not the frat boy type. never saw the appeal in them."

"me neither they can be obnoxious, can't stand them." you explain. an awkward silence stills before you both.

he looks at you, the corner of his mouth curling slightly in anticipation.

"you must have boyfriends back at college, don't you?" his slight change in tone and lift in confidence makes you a little nervous.

"oh no, i-i don't, college guys aren't really my...thing." you stutter. your gaze lingers on james, drinking his presence in.

his hair, still wet from the shower, glistened in the sunlight coming through the window. you could drool on the spot at the sight of his broad shoulders, muscles barely peeking out of from under his gray t-shirt.

"then what is your 'thing'." james shifts his body to face you more.

you shrug and shake your head.

"i don't know, i guess i just always went for older guys." you confess. you knew it was slightly obvious what you were suggesting but it was now or never.

a sly smirk appears on james' face before speaking again.

"really?"

"always have." you look down at your legs quickly. the way james was staring at made you feel like you were on fire.

"do you like anyone in particular?" james was itching at some kind of answer that could miraculously allude to himself.

"that's confidential." you try to avoid looking at him so he doesn't see the obvious blush spread across your cheeks.

"right, right." james had a small grin on his face as you revealed the answer.

he was almost giddy with joy. he knew what he wanted to hear, but he never expected you still had feelings for him.

"it's dumb, i know," a wave of embarrassment rushes through your body and you immediately regret admitting something so elementary.

"i'm sorry if it bothers you i don't-" james cuts you off

"it doesn't bother me."

"it doesn't?" james shakes his head and smiles slightly.

"no, does it bother you?"

"no." he begins leaning towards you slowly and your brain shuts down completely.

james was close enough to feel your breath as you spoke. his face was a few inches away from yours, and he was looking straight into your eyes.

there was a long pause for a moment. It was as if james thought you were gonna do something.

his voice was a little quiet as he spoke his next words.

"good."

james finally closes the gap between you and presses his lips softly against yours.

a tingle went up his spine as your lips came into contact with his. he had never anticipated this, but it felt different. it felt right.

his hand reached to touch your face and he pulled you in closer slowly, your bodies connecting more and more as he leaned into you.

the kiss deepens and a small whimper erupts in your throat.

james noticed the noise you made and smiles against your lips. his big hands grab your thighs and pulls you onto his lap.

he gently pulled you closer to his body again, his arm wrapped around your waist, and his other arm reached to caress your body as both of your lips touched.

james' lips connect to your neck, nipping at the skin along your jawline.

you moan slightly and subconsciously rut your hips against his.

he let out a groan as he gently broke the embrace to look at you.

"needy girl." he teases.

james grabs your hips and moves them harder against his center. he began kissing your neck as you rested in the position he held you in.

you feel his hand suddenly slip into your underwear.

"oh, sweetheart," james breathes out. he could feel how wet and needy you were for him

a pathetic whine escapes your lips as his finger draws antagonizingly slow circles around your clit.

"james please, i need you." the words that escaped your lips sent a jolt of electricity through his body.

he kept kissing your neck, his hand slither up your shirt, caressing and pinching at your nipples.

your words sent him over the edge and he let out a soft groan.

you needed so much more than his single finger. you mindlessly began to toy with the waistband of his pants, itching to just rip them off of him completely.

james was more than ready to let your hands do there work, as he lifted up his hips slightly.

"can i take these off?" james asks you softly, he begins pushing your shorts down your thighs.

you nod your head quickly and discard your shorts along with your shirt leaving you only in your underwear.

james' eyes shoot straight down to your chest.

"so perfect for me," he coos as he quickly latches his mouth onto one of your nipples, soon leaving little purple bruises on them. your eyes squeeze shut as you feel his tongue flicking against the bud.

the sound of a belt hitting the ground makes you jump slightly.

"i can't wait any longer." james mutters against your lips before pressing his mouth against yours.

his fast hands move your underwear to the side.

the feeling of his cock finally entering your dripping hole made your head fall onto his shoulder and a long breathy moan fall from your lips.

you can feel james' body shudders under you.

"oh, fuck," james waits a few seconds before finally thrusting upwards, moving your hips to meet his simultaneously.

the sound of yours and james' moans followed by the slight slapping of skin filled the air of your bedroom.

"you feel so good baby, so good for me."

if james kept speaking to you in that velvety tone you were sure that you were gonna cum a lot quicker than expected.

your mind was completely empty, not a single thought popped into your brain.

that was soon interrupted by the sound of your cellphone.

"it's my dad." you tell james urgently but he continues to litter your neck with small kisses and bites.

"answer it."

you stare at him blankly, the annoying ringtone still erupting from your phone.

your fingers hesitate for a moment before accepting the call and pressing your phone up to your ear.

"hey dad." you try to stiffle a moan as james begins thrusting up into you again.

it was so difficult trying to contain your moans while still trying to have a conversation with your dad.

"yeah, james came over mm-" your hand flies to your mouth.

you could feel james smirk against your neck as he continues to thrust into you at a faster pace.

"no-sorry, it was a cough."

he was relentless with his hunger for you, and didn't want to keep it at bay.

"be quiet baby, we don't need daddy hearing how good i'm making you feel hm?"

his voice was suddenly filled with a deep and lustful tone, but you loved it.

james heard the talking from your phone but it didn't distract him, it only sent a tinge of excitement in his heart.

he let his hands to roam all over your body, causing goosebumps to spread all over your body.

"he did a great job, the car...the car should be ok now."

your dad just kept talking. completely oblivious to what was happening on the other side of the phone.

james grins widely and let out a quiet moan, feeling your pussy squeeze around him.

his lips left your neck and he let his head lean back on the headboard. he didn't even stop his advances as he heard your dad talking. he just enjoyed seeing you try your hardest to stay quiet as he abused your cunt.

your dad finally says his goodbyes after asking a million questions regarding james' visit and you have never felt so relieved.

"that was a close one." james chuckled.

you let out an exasperated laugh, still not able to fully function. especially now that his fingers begin rubbing furiously at your clit, causing you to moan louder and buck your hips harder against his.

"j-james..." your body was shaking uncontrollably. that familiar not began to form in your stomach and fiery heat began to spread through your legs.

"you gonna cum for me pretty girl?" he taunts.

your face contorts in pleasure as you try to muster up any words that come to mind.

"m'so close-"

"i know baby i know, me too." the grip he has on your thighs grows firmer and his nails begin to dig harshly into your skin.

"come on sweetheart, give it to me." james thrusts harder into you, swiftly hitting your sweet spot everytime.

your walls clench around his cock as you cum, earning a loud, throaty groan from james. his warm seed coats your insides, leaving you feeling full and absolutely satisfied.

"there you go," james coaxes you through your orgasm.

james felt your sweat covered body collapse onto his and he kissed your forehead softly.

he kept his arms wrapped around your back, holding you close to him.

"are you okay?" was the first thing that came out of his mouth after a moment.

"mhm, m'ok" you flash james a tired smile.

he slowly opened his eyes as well and kissed your forehead. he let out another sigh as his arms were still wrapped around you.

then he spoke again, his voice filled with curiosity.

"so...what did your dad want to talk about?" he asked softly, still laying back on the bed with you on top of him.

"he was just asking if you had already come over and everything," you let out a snort.

"i definitely came." you look up at james to see a cocky smile across his face.

"stop," you giggle and slap his arm playfully.

"he also mentioned that he would be staying an extra hour at work."

james' demeanor shifted once you told him the good news of your dad staying longer at work.

"good," james leaned forward and kissed you again, grabbing your hand and pulled you down to the bed.

his hands slowly traveled down to your thighs, and he caressed it slightly before pulling your legs apart and situating himself in between them.

"because i'm not done with you yet."

#nai writes ୨୧ #james kelly #james kelly x reader #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #anakin skywalker

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chsopnk · 13 days

Text

「 ✦ MY COFFEE BLACK… ✦ 」

☆. # SHIP — satosugu x m!reader

☆. # AUTHOR’S NOTE — you work at a cat café and two guys keep coming back—but not for the coffee… or the cats. ;; requested.

☆. # WARNINGS — none! (cut bc its quite long and i dont want to clutter someones dash!)

The gentle hum of conversation and the quiet purring of cats filled the cozy atmosphere of Neko Haven, a small cat cafe tucked away in a quiet corner of Shibuya. It wasn't flashy or well-known, but for Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, it had become a regular haunt over the past few months. Every Thursday, without fail, they would slip into the cafe after work, sinking into their usual corner by the window, sipping lattes while the cats curled up around their feet.

But it wasn't the cats or the coffee that kept them coming back.

It was you.

From behind the counter, you moved with practiced ease, serving drinks with a quiet smile and a soft "thank you" as you took their orders. You were different from the hustle and bustle of the outside world-calm, collected, and gentle in a way that drew them in without effort.

"You know," Satoru murmured one Thursday evening, watching as you expertly frothed milk for a cappuccino, "I'm starting to think this place might be my new favorite. Best coffee l've ever had."

Suguru, who was longing beside him, snorted softly. "It's not the coffee, and you know it.”

Satoru leaned back in his chair, long legs stretched out under the table, a teasing smile pulling at his lips. "You think so? Maybe it's the cats. I do have a soft spot for them."

"Sure," Suguru replied, eyes flicking over to you as you handed a cup to a customer with that same warm smile. "The cats."

The two of them had known each other long enough to recognize the tension that had been building over the past few weeks. The shared glances, the way Satoru would straighten up whenever you approached their table, the slight shift in Suguru's expression when you laughed at one of his dry remarks.

They didn't talk about it, but it was there, unspoken but understood.

It had been Suguru who noticed you first, the quiet bartender who seemed to carry a sense of peace in every movement. Satoru had followed suit not long after, his curiosity piqued by your composed nature, so different from his own chaotic energy. What had started as friendly teasing between them quickly became something more complicated.

The bell above the door chimed as the last customer left for the evening. You were wiping down the counter when Satoru stood up, slipping off his sunglasses and tucking them into his pocket. Suguru followed him, quieter, more thoughtful, but his dark eyes flicked over to you with a warmth he rarely showed to anyone else.

"You're here pretty late tonight," you said, smiling as they approached the counter.

Satoru shrugged. "We like the quiet."

"And the company," Suguru added, his voice low but sincere.

Your cheeks warmed slightly, but you didn't look away, meeting their gazes with a soft chuckle. "You two are flattering me again."

"Can you blame us?" Satoru leaned against the counter, his bright blue eyes glinting mischievously. "We wouldn't keep coming back if you weren't the best bartender in Shibuya."

"Second best," Suguru corrected with a small smile. "But only because you refuse to let us help."

You laughed, the sound light and genuine, and they couldn't help but share a look. The tension that had hung between them for weeks felt like it was about to snap, but neither of them was sure what would happen when it did.

"You're here enough," you teased, setting a clean cup aside. "Maybe I should put you two to work."

"Careful," Satoru said, leaning in slightly. "We might take you up on that."

Suguru glanced at him, then back at you.

There was something different tonight, something in the air that hadn't been there before. He felt it, and judging by the way Satoru's smile softened at the edges, so did he.

Your hands stilled for a moment, eyes flicking between the two of them. You could feel the weight of their attention, the unspoken question in their gaze. It wasn't just about the café, and you knew it.

"I like the company too," you admitted softly, a small smile playing on your lips. "It's nice to see familiar faces. Especially when they’re as interesting as yours.”

Satoru grinned, but it wasn't his usual teasing smirk. It was softer, warmer.

"Interesting, huh?"

You shrugged, leaning against the counter now, close enough to catch the warmth in Suguru's eyes and the way Satoru's fingers drummed lightly on the wood between you.

"You're good company. Both of you."

Suguru's gaze lingered on you, something unspoken passing between the three of you.

There was an understanding in the quiet, a shift in the easy banter that had marked your conversations before. It was something deeper now, something real.

Sator broke the silence, his voice gentle in a way that was rare for him. "We were thinking... maybe next time, you could join us. After your shift."

Your eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across your face. "Join you?"

Suguru nodded, his voice calm and sure. "For coffee. Or something else. We don't mind."

You felt the warmth spread through your chest at the invitation, your heart beating a little faster. It wasn't just coffee they were offering, and you understood that. There was a connection here, something that had grown between the three of you in the past weeks.

Suguru nodded, his voice calm and sure. "For coffee. Or something else. We don't mind."

"I'd like that," you said softly, meeting their eyes.

Satoru's grin widened, and Suguru's lips curved into a rare, genuine smile.

"Good," Satoru said, stepping back from the counter with a wink. "It's a date, then."

As they left the cafe, the bell chiming softly behind them, you couldn't help the way your heart fluttered in your chest. The two of them had been regulars for weeks now, but this felt different. The cafe was still, the cats curled up in their usual spots, and for the first time in a long while, you found yourself looking forward to something more than just another quiet evening behind the counter.

And when Thursday came around again, you knew they would be there, waiting. For you.

#₊˚ෆ lovely words #thank u for requesting!#¡! ❞ ship.#jjk x male reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #satosugu x reader #satosugu x you #satosugu x y/n #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #suguru x reader #suguru x you #suguru x y/n #satoru x suguru

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lila-lou · 9 months

Text

✨ His only exception - Pt. 4/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, sorta prostitution, kinda dirty, violence

Word Count: 1834

A/N: This is part 4 of “His only exeption”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

After another agonizing silence, you turned on the radio. But even Bob Seger couldn't lift the mood with his night moves. You groaned in despair and let your head fall against the window. Soldier Boy watched you out of the corner of his eye for a while before he patted your thigh and got over himself. “C´mon (y/n)! Don't be a grumpy little bitch", he tried his best to sound relaxed and cool but you just turned to him with your eyebrows raised. "Are you kidding? You broke my damn wrist!”. Your voice was filled with amazement and anger.

“Uh-uh! A bit more than sprained. Not quiet broken. There’s a difference”, he raised his index finger for emphasis, moving his gaze back and forth between you and the street.

“Ben!-”. “I fucking apologized, didn’t I?! It was… not intentional and certainly not planned… Who would have thought that you-". This time you interrupted him. “That I what? That I don't suddenly take off my panties for you? Ben! I thought we were friends?”. Your voice cracked slightly towards the end.

“I don’t have any friends,” was all he replied.

“Well, thanks for the clarification!”, you bit back. “How the fuck am I now the bad guy again?! I apologized! I'm trying to do the fucking right thing here and you're making it fucking hard for me not to kick you out the damn Car!". Ben was really trying to understand you, but he was new to this. It was new to him, not being adored and worshipped.

“Are you really listening to yourself, Ben? I'm probably the only person on this damn planet who cares about you. And you…why did you have to ruin that?”. This time even he could hear the disappointment in your voice. Still, he didn't know how to make amends for what he had done. “(y/n) I-”. Ben rubbed his beard and looked at you discouraged. “Why did you think I would… let you sleep with me?", you looked at him and felt the heat rising to your cheeks. "Shit, you can barely say it without blushing". Despite the depressed mood, Ben couldn't help but chuckle a little about that fact.

Another silence followed.

“You’re fucking hot (y/n), okay? And I'm horny. Since Russia it feels like I`m horny 24/7. And you doll can’t deny that it would be handy for you to let off some steam too”.

Ben’s eyes found yours. He wasn't lying, but you knew he was hiding something from you.

No matter how long your dry spell had lasted and no matter what Ben would say or do, you could never confess to him that you had been attracted to him from day one. Those words would never pass your lips. Towards no one. Ben was pretty “nice” to you, well at least by his standards. And even though you got along pretty well, it could never be anything more than friendship. Soldier Boy just wasn't a good person. He was incapable of showing emotion, let alone loving anyone but himself. So why should you get involved with him? And even though you had dreamed countless times about him giving you pleasure, fucking you stupid and giving you orgasms like no one else could, you had your principles. No sex without feelings.

“Flattering, but no”, you said, trying to be gentle.

"Why not? A shitload of women would fucking pay for that, do you realize that?”, he replied, stunned. “Okay, listen", you turned to him in the passenger seat and fixed him with your gaze. “Why do you want to sleep with me so badly? Why me? If there are so many women who would do anything to have you fuck ´em unconscious, why clinging to me? Tell me what makes me different? and… well, if I like the reason, maybe I'll think about it". You obviously upset Ben with your words. You could see all the wheels in his brain turning and even after a few minutes he didn't have an answer to your question.

"I thought so. We’re here”, you sighed, getting out of the car. “Give me 5 minutes head start”, you added before slamming the car door and walking with fast steps across the large parking lot. “Day drinking and prostitution, here I come,” you grumble to yourself.

What Butcher had told you, went absolutely against your morals, but you had felt beyond useless for the last few weeks, which was why you finally wanted to prove to yourself that you were useful for more than just tracking down Supes. Although you couldn't imagine anyone more disgusting to set an example than the Deep.

When you entered the bar, the first thing that hit you, was the smell of marijuana and cheap perfume. Even though it appeared to be an upscale local, the owners didn't seem to have much to offer their employees. You looked around and saw half naked girls dancing on poles, fat old men on the sofas in front of them with drool running down the corners of their mouths and in the middle of it all, the Deep. “You got this”, you motivated yourself before taking off your coat, placing it over a bar stool and smoothing down your too-tight and short dress. With a smooth movement of your hand, you threw back your laboriously curled hair and walked past your target's lounge with confident and elegant steps. “Three, two, one-”, you whispered as you felt a hand on your forearm.

“Hey beautiful, where are you going with those beautiful legs of yours?". Oh, how you wished you could have rolled your eyes. Instead, you spun on your heels to find the Deep leaning back into the sofa, letting go of your arm. “Don’t you want to join me?”, he grinned at you. Unfortunately, putting on a show and playing ´hard to get´ didn’t work for him because his brain cells weren’t up to it. “Oh shit, you’re the Deep, aren’t you?”, you feign surprise, holding a hand over your bright red lips. “That’s exactly what it looks like, baby. Come here, come to me”, he didn't pat the sofa, but rather his lap.

After a few minutes of small talk you could finally see Ben from a distance, but he first looked at all the dancing ladies. You tried several times to get his attention but to no avail. He was only a few steps into the bar and two girls were already grinding on him. And Ben being Ben, he wasted no time and starting with cupping their asses. One of the two pushed him onto a bar stool while the other started giving him a lap dance, wearing nothing but a lace thong.

“So baby, don’t you want to show me a little bit of yourself?”. Kevin’s right hand stroked your thigh under your dress while you lay in his left arm. He pushed you further into the sofa, his hand squeezing your ass and making you gasp. In order not to completely give up control, you pushed against his chest with all your strength and quickly slipped onto his lap. With your legs on either side of his thighs, your dress rode up. Anyone walking behind you would have been able to see your bare butt if Kevin hadn't immediately covered it up with both hands. "Hmm… You want to be in charge, don't you?". You could already feel his erection against your thigh, which only disgusted you more. “How about we dance first?”, you grinned at him, hoping to buy some time. “No, no, no, but you can sure dance for me, baby”, the Deep replied with a big ass smirk. You took Kevin's glass and drank it in one gulp before slipping off his lap and taking a few steps back. Your heart began to beat like crazy, but you gathered all your courage, ignored the lustful looks from the other guests and Kevin and started moving your hips slowly to the beat of the music.

That was also the moment when Ben finally noticed you. He sipped his whiskey, licked his lips, and watched you from his spot at the bar. He ignored the two women who were still dancing for him. His attention was solely on you. "Uhh, someone's getting really hard", the blonde moaned in his ear while her colleague stroked up and down Ben's upper arm. While your eyes were on Kevin, Ben was looking at his crotch. “Shit”, he growled, pushing both women away with a jerk.

Meanwhile, Kevin didn't hesitate anymore, grabbing you by the hips and pulling you onto his lap with a strong tug before grabbing your face and pressing his lips to yours, which was absolutely not the plan. You should only distract the Deep long enough for Ben to put something in his drink at the bar.

When Ben saw the Deep stick his tongue down your throat, anger overwhelmed him. Within seconds, he ripped you away, pushed you onto the sofa and grabbed the Deep by the collar of his supe suit. Kevin didn't know what was going on and could hardly say a word. “Ben! What are you doing?", you shouted at him as all the other customers stormed out of the bar one by one. “This son of a bitch is fucking disgusting. A worthless piece of shit. I should rip his head off here and now”, Ben hissed.

“Ben, stick to the damn plan”, you admonished him, slowly lifting yourself up. Ben's eyes darkened with anger.

“You better listen to your little friend”, Kevin gasped, trying to save his own dear life.

"You'd better keep your damn mouth shut, fuckface". Ben let go for a split second before sticking his large hand through Kevin's supe suit into his gills, lifting him up and shushing him.

“Ben! we can't kill him! Ben… Please.” While the Deep was panting in pain, Ben finally looked at you.

"You're going to let that fucker rub his cock on you, but make a fucking scene when I kiss you?!".

In the middle of his sentence, Ben's mood changed from angry to stunned to angry again.

Very angry.

Ben's suit-covered chest began to glow and his hand relaxed, which Deep used to escape. “Shit, shit, shit!”, you gasped. “Ben, stop!”, you tried to calm him down, but to no avail. Knowing that you had absolutely no chance of getting out of here alive if you stayed, you ran towards the exit as fast as you could. You ran for your life. Seconds later you heard a loud bang and everything around you went dark.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 5

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x y/n #the boys #billy butcher #the deep #the boys fanart #the boys amazon #the boys tv #spn #ackles

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lafleshlumpeater · 3 months

Note

hi i’ve been trying to find someone perfect for my request cause tbh it’s one i’ve been thinking about for a while and i think your writing and style is absolutely amazing and idk i want you for my request. i understand you usually write fem readers but if you could please make like a gn!reader i would really really really appreciate it!! i was thinking a luke castellan x reader and everyone always jokes about you guys dating but you’ve never really had a crush on him. and then he suggests you guys just start fake dating just to make it better, and then you end up falling for him and just like yeah. fake dating to lovers yall please. thank you so much for even considering!!!

OMG. ANON. you flatter me too much, ilysm for this. i hope i did this justice and i'm so sorry for the long wait <3 (there will definitely be more than one part to this!!)

warnings: gn!reader (pls lmk if i accidentally used any gendered language so i can fix it), teasing, percabeth being 'that' couple- it's not really specified whether this is book!luke or disney!luke but for any future requests if you'd like a particular one don't be afraid to ask <3

luke castellan masterlist

“So,” Annabeth begins, clearing her throat, and just from the teasing cadence lilting her voice, you already know what she’s itching to comment on. You exhale, rolling your eyes and praying internally to every god in existence that you know of to spare you from this incessant battle. “You and Luke, training together.” She makes a pretence at nonchalance- you know her better than that.

“Yes, Annabeth,” you sigh as you take a sip of water. “Just like how practically everyone else in camp has also done. You included.” Excluding Percy, it was non-negotiable; Luke was the most experienced and skilled fighter at camp. Everyone was eager to learn a thing or two from him, and understandably so.

“Yeah, but, like- the chemistry.” The blonde counters, rubs her hands together deviously. “No-one else in camp has that with him.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with your boyfriend.” Percy; the main instigator of all of your friends, and even campers who you didn’t even know too well, encouraging the idea that there was something inexplicable going on between you and Luke Castellan. You couldn’t sympathise with the notion whatsoever- apparently, two people being of the same age and occasionally passing time together who also happen to be paired up with one another in most affairs (no doubt with the meddling of Chiron, which Luke himself seemed blissfully oblivious to), meant they were suddenly applicable for a relationship which goes beyond the boundaries of platonic.

You didn’t get it whatsoever.

“Speak of the devil,” Annabeth starts, the remnants of her scheming smirk blooming into something more genuine and pure at the sight of her boyfriend walking towards the pair of you.

“I saw Luke just now.” The playful quip forming regarding the lack of greeting from him dies on your tongue. You couldn’t be dealing with this now- all you wanted was a productive day of training followed by a bitingly cold shower. Instead, you’re being verbally taunted- by your friends, no less- about how good of a match you are for the Hermes boy. It’s a painstakingly obvious reminder about how life never goes a demigod’s way.

The tall boy jabs a thumb vaguely behind his shoulder, his free arm sneaking around his girlfriend’s waist. Absently, she leans into him, the sickeningly sweet reaction automatic. “He was like, completely red in the cheeks. Blushing. And then he tells me the two of you were sparring just now?” His lips quirk into a grin, all teeth and mischief. “Very interesting.” You open your mouth again, with no particular retort in mind. “Oh no, but it’s all coincidental,” he continues, feigning a solemn tone. “Right. That’s my bad.”

Annabeth snorts at Percy’s antics as he holds his hands up as if in mock surrender when you swat at his shoulder. “We were sparring, Percy. Obviously he was going to be red in the face. Out of breath and all.”

He nods gravely, lips set in a straight line. You narrow your eyes, distrustful towards the mirth shimmering in his irises. “Out of breath from being so close to you.” He swoons as if imitating Luke, hands clasped together and batting his eyes up at an unknown entity- you correctly assume this imaginary being is supposedly you.

Before you can tell him off like you have oh-so-many-times in the past, he sobers up of his own accord, lips twitching from the effort of suppressing a well-humoured grin. His eyes flit to somewhere behind one of your shoulders. “Hi, Luke.”

You turn on your heel instantly. He’s standing in front of you, cheeks still tinted a delicate pink, a mere ghost of what Percy had sworn to, hair ruffling slightly in the breeze, the muted colour of his eyes a stark contrast to the startling neon of his camp t-shirt. You curse your friend to the high heavens, taking a mental note to throttle him later. “Hey.”

He nods briefly to all parties, before redirecting his attention to you. “I forgot earlier. I’d like to talk to you about something.” He shifts slightly, repositioning himself so he looks less uncertain, back straightening and arms folded across his chest. “If you don’t mind.”

You glance behind you at the indiscreetly tittering couple, obviously amused at your expense. No matter how oblivious Luke may have been towards the magnitude of your mutual friends who were certain that the two of you were destined soulmates and it was just a matter of time and waiting, he wasn’t blind to the fact that the common belief was there. Especially now, with Percy and Annabeth whistling and hooting in a manner which was meant to be encouraging behind you. As if they didn’t take years to acknowledge that they had painfully blatant feelings for one another.

“No, yeah, we can talk,” you say casually. The two of you begin to walk, side by side, facing forward. For a few beats, there’s silence.

The quiet itself isn’t uncomfortable- the anticipation and tension of waiting for what he has to say, is.

“I want to say sorry,” Luke commences, simultaneously shattering the silence, previously only permeated by distant chatter and careless laughter. Fixing him with a befuddled frown, you rotate your head to look at him- he’s facing forward, hands are stationary in his pockets, side profile the only thing in your field of view. “I don’t know when or how, but for some reason everyone has the idea that I’m…” You watch him ponder for a moment or two, wondering how to phrase the predicament in a manner which isn’t too blunt. Dread climbs up your throat. “- romantically interested in you.”

Oh. So he isn’t as oblivious as you’d hoped.

“No, it’s all good.” You muster a polite smile, though you’re internally dying. Whether it’s from the fact that it’s being mentioned aloud, or him actually acknowledging it, or the way you can see two of your siblings brazenly ogling the interaction in your peripherals as you try to ignore them in vain, you’re clueless. “It’s not your fault… or anyone’s really.”

“I know,” he says, a tad quicker than you finish. He raises his eyebrows, suppressing a self-satisfied smirk directed in the distance. “But anyways, I think I have a solution.”

Your interest is piqued. Anything to stop the rumours that the two of you had kissed behind the Apollo cabin, to silence the snorts and innuendos thrown at you whenever Luke’s name was mentioned in your vicinity. “Really?”

He swivels to face you, halting the little stroll. You mimic his movements. “A possible solution. I mean, it would definitely work, but-.”

You tilt your head at him quizzically. “Then why is it only ‘possible’?”

He inhales. “It involves you. A lot. And you might not want to do this.”

“Do what?” Your impatience amplifies with Luke’s every ambiguous phrase. What is he thinking of?

He looks around, ensuring there’s no-one in earshot. “Date me.”

He says it so coolly, so quickly, you think you’ve heard him wrong. He must be talking about the weather, or about the arrival of a new camper, or-

Your eyes are fixed on him, jaw slack. “What?”

Eyes widening in understanding, he realises his mistake, backtracking quickly. “Not, like, dating-dating. Fake dating. Pretending to be in a relationship.” He lets it sink in for a second. “Everyone would shut up about how good we are for each other, and how we should start dating, because we actually would be. Or it would look like it, anyways. But it’s your choice.” He gauges your expression as you mull it over.

He has a point. Multiple, in fact. It’s not that you’re disgusted at the prospect of being paired with Luke- you’ve just… never considered it before, the thought foreign. The relationship between the both of you has always been friendly, borderline formal, even. So it would be nice to live your life without the unrelenting teasing and mocking from half the camp…

“Sure,” you say, attempting to mirror his casual demeanour. “I don’t mind.” His surprise directed at your compliance is evident; his eyebrows arch slightly.

He smiles at you, bemused, eyes reflecting the golden rays of sun beaming down from the summer sky. “Cool.”

An uncertain, electric thrill rushes through you. Nothing like this has ever happened before, and it’s so exhilarating already, and even more exciting. The pair of you shake on it- what’s the worst that could happen?

idk how to feel about this but i hope you like it<3

taglist: @doyouknowwhoyouare13 @explosiongamora @brutal-out-here @absolutely-existing @quickslvxrr @bibliophile-dendrophile

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

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hexgaywire · 4 months

Note

hello! (◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉI hope you're having a great day! i wanted to ask if it's okay to make a request (⁠;⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠)

I'd like to request where reader is also a streamer and whenever a collab horror stream with vox and hex and (separately), reader's heart beat always speeds up at the start (the game is not on yet and chat can see since she's already set up her heart beat monitor) like at some point chat notices it's a recurring thing that only happens during horror collabs with vox or hex and the chat kinda outs reader to them, and their reaction to that information.

i dunno if that makes sense exactly 😭🥹 (also please do not mind the request it if you're not up to writing 🥹 it's just me projecting how how my heart beats absolutely fast when i hear these two 😞)

I'm here to deliver Hex and Vox brain rot! One thing about me I will always write for Hex if given the opportunity. To preface I have not watched a Vox stream in a moment so I apologize if he seems a little OOC. Mentally I'm still in his ASMR era. Also shout out to Hex Haywire for currently, as of writing this, unable to go live on YouTube bc he posted horny on main.

»»————-　☾　————-««

Heart Monitor Shenanigans with Vox and Hex

Rating: SFW

Pairing: Streamer/Vtuber Reader / Vox, Hex (separate)

Warnings: Implied hidden crush. That's it that's the intro.

»»————-　☾　————-««

"Are you excited chat?" Vox entertains your combined chats as you struggle to set up your heartbeat monitor; horror game menu lopping every couple minutes that ticks by. "I'm so sorry guys, this happens every time. I even tested it out a couple hours before the stream so we would have this issue." You sheepishly say. " That's quite alright, Y/N, your chat is lovely and so are my Kindred. They get a Zatsu, a collab and a heartbeat monitor all in one stream." He chuckles. Finally after restarting the program and refreshing it on OBS your heartbeat monitor springs to life. " Thank God!" You exclaim. "Thanks for your patience everyone!" "We are finally ready? Let's gooooo! No 'Shupport' needed, nice work Y/N!" Vox praises you. Your heart jumps in your chest at the praise.

> Ayo why is Y/N BPM so high lololol

>Y/N!!!! You do this every collab with Vox

> That's kinda high....

You watch in horror as your chat blatantly drags you under the bus. You cough awkwardly and quickly try to divert the conversation. "With the scuff out of the way, why don't we get started?" You glance over at Vox's POV and his chat and man the Kindred's are also throwing you under the bus.

> Y'all are seeing what I'm seeing right?

> Love how the game hasn't even started yet and their heart rate is off they hearts HAHA

> My tsundere oshi and oblivious oshi

Vox, you can tell, is trying his best not to tease you you can tell by the tone in his voice. "Thank you for the Supa, remember to follow rules chat, this is a collab Y/N is a guest." Vox starts the game and also tries to take the attention of you, which makes your heart rate spike again. The chat goes nuts. Both you and Vox continue as normal though and begin the game.

"Thank you all for watching and thank you to Vox for the collab! I can't wait for the next one!! Say bye chat!!!" You say enthusiastic as you both prepare to end your streams. Once you end stream Vox immediately starts to haze you. "So are we gunna talk about the high BPM or was it just the anxiety of the monitor not working?" He asks smugly. "It's uh gotta be the anxiety thing..." You mumble. "Yeah, I think Kyle said the same thing last time though, Y/N... " " Vox I-" " I'm teasing you, it's fine. Honestly I find it flattering." You roll your eyes but the heat rises to your cheeks. " Thanks for the collab today, we'll definitely have to do this again soon." " Hey maybe next time we can do an off collab? " Vox suggests. A million thoughts run through your head and before you can respond Vox cuts in. "Think about it. I'd love to do it sometime. Have a good one Y/N! " Vox leaves the call. You sit there staring at your monitor which once again, spikes.... You don't know if your heart can handle an off collab.

»»————-　☾　————-««

"Chat I think Hex forgot about us." You sigh dramatically. You frantically message him over Discord for the third time asking him if he's awake. Hex wasn't streaming his POV and did warn you he might be a few minutes later but as you sit here, dedicated sicklings and your own chat, anxiously waiting.

"I'm giving him 5 more minutes then we are jumping in without him." You huff. You hear the discord " join" noise and you don't register it until you hear his voice. "You'd really start without me?" His voice as raspy as ever cuts in. Your heart pounds in your chest, partly because you weren't expecting him to join so suddenly. "H.. hex Haywire everyone!"

> Hexy!!!! Welcome

> Hi Hex!

> Woah morning voice TSKR

"Sorry for the wait... I over slept..." He admits. "You're stupid." You giggle. "You leave your collab partner and your chat, alone, unsupervised, we could've been planning to overthrow you." You joke. " You wouldn't do that, you're too sweet." He yawns. " Right chat? Aren't they the sweetest." You can see your heart rate monitor skyrocket.

> They are the sweetest!!! So true Hex

> Sus monitor

> Y/N Did you forget you have a monitor on? Www

Man the sicklings don't let anything slide. "Let's uh... Start the game." You cough awkwardly.

"Sicklings please remember to thank y/n for streaming their POV today." Hex hums out. " And thank you to Hex for coming on! Everyone say bye to Hex!!! Thank you all for coming to today's stream and I'll be back tomorrow with some more Stardew Valley! Byee!!" You say as you mute your OBS and change to your ending scene. "You're resting heart rate is concerning Y/N." Hex comments nonchalantly. "I.... pump blood really fast?" You try to avoid this topic like the plague. "Listen thanks again for breaking your sleep schedule for me, next time we'll stream in your time zone." You say. "Next time huh? Already excited for the next one." You can hear the smugness in his voice. "So what." You huff. He chuckles. "Just let me know, you know I love collabing with you. Good night Y/N" Hex hangs up and you're left with a huge grin on your face.

»»————-　☾　————-««

Psst down here... My requests are open 🗣️

#nijisanji en #luxiem #nijisanji #hex haywire #xsoliel #hex haywire x reader #hex haywire x you #vox akuma x reader #vox akuma #my writing #vox akuma x you #sfw

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wordssricochet · 4 months

Text

💬 — Hello !! Just the usual reminders, I am still learning. Please do not expect my work to be perfect, English is not my first language. That is all, thank you.

⚠ — rejection, bullying, draco being stupid, hurtful words, mischaracterization of Blaise Zabini (I guess, we had to do it for the plot)

📝 — ♡ (fluff) + ☣︎ (angst)

#⃣ — 1270 words

📹 — based on the movie "Flipped" (one of my comfort movies)

_________________________________________________

Flipped | D. M |

by wordssricochet™

_________________________________________________

Growing up as a troublemaker kid, you were always rejected for affection. Thus, anyone who would even look at your way would be bombarded with your attention and affection.

And that anyone, fortunately —for you— is Draco Malfoy.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

"Heart eyes again, yeah, Y/N? " Fred Weasley —your best friend's brother who is also your best friend— elbows you.

"I honestly don't get what you see in that blondie, " George adds, "I mean, he's.. good looking and all, but his personality? Askaban! "

You simply just roll your eyes at the twins, focusing your attention again on Draco. Or Dray-Dray, as you nicknamed him (He never liked it, and would glance at you with a disgusted look. You loved his face though.)

A few minutes passed by and the boy and his gang of Slytherin friends leave for their classes. Now, you were left wondering about what Draco's type is. It just suddenly came up in your mind! But what is his type? Is it like you? Or is his type those pureblood girls that bullies first years? Hopefully not, hopefully not Pansy Parkinson.

"I wonder if his type is even closer to me.. you know, a fun but serious girl? " You questioned yourself.

"Oy, don't flatter yourself, Y/N. Since when were you serious? " Ron snickers, followed by Hermione hitting his arms.

"But seriously, Y/N, why him? I mean, there's Cedric-", " Too old for me" You interrupted Hermione.

"Okay.. what about Longbottom? He's a nice guy. " She gives you a warm look.

You almost wanted to cackle at Hermione's suggestion, "Seriously, Hermione? Neville is the complete opposite of Dray-Dray. "

"And that's exactly why I wanted you to give him a try, plus, the Yule Ball is in 2 weeks already, " She plastered a smirk on her face, "Let's be real, Y/N, You have no chance with Malfoy.

"I'm aware.. but still! " You insist.

Hermione gave a long sigh, "Do what you want then. But remember, I warned you! " She glances at you with a worried look.

"I'll be fine. "

Your classes for today ended and you went straight to Fred and George.

"Okay.. How do I look? " You fixed your hair. You put a clip on it and put the remaining hair behind your ears.

"Stunning", " Gorgeous" , the twins replied at the same time.

"You got this, Y/N! Plus, if ever that Malfoy prick rejects you, I'll go with you at the Yule Ball. " George says with a reassuring smile.

"Now, off you go! " Fred says, as he gives your back a soft tap.

"Dray- Draco, can we talk? " You ask while fiddling your fingers. It's been at least 5 years since you guys last talked, since his father found out about your friendship.

Draco and his friends glanced at each other, a smirk coming up on all their faces.

"Sure, what is it that you want to talk about? "

"Can we please talk in private? "

".. fine. "

"So, what is it? " Draco started, looking down at your rather smaller figure.

"Um, look, I've been meaning to tell you this since we were kids, " You gave a short inhale,

"Malfoy, I really like you. You were the first person to ever look at me like I'm a normal person, and not some nuisance to society. I've liked you since the day that I met you, the day that we met by the sea shore when you were taking a rest because of all the moving houses thing going on. I really appreciate your kindness toward me.. Well, towards me in the past. I hope that we can be friends again, or even more than that. So Dray-Dray, will you please go to Yule Ball with me? " You let out a long exhale as you said all those words in a span of 30 seconds.

"How pathetic can you be, Y/L/N? " He lets out a chuckle, "For Merlin's sake, are you even capable of being embarrassed? You're honestly the most annoying person I've ever known in my whole life! Since the day that.. "

You couldn't even hear what Draco was saying anymore, you just stood there, your ears ringing. Your vision started to blur. Your body can't physically move at this moment, like you've been paralyzed. After what seemed like an eternity (which is just 3 minutes for Draco), you finally gained consciousness.

"- I feel disgusted and offended that you can even think about being with me, hell, being friends with m-" You cut him off by saying sorry and ran away, just like you did when all those kids from your childhood bullied you.

It all started coming back to you, and you hated Draco for being the reason why.

You headed straight back to your house's common room and straight to your dorm. You ignored all your housemates asking if you were okay.

You flopped on your bed, head onto the pillow. You started letting all your emotions drain you.

These past few days, you started ignoring Draco more and more. You flooded yourself with academics and friends, specifically George Weasley.

You never stare at him in classes anymore, not even in the Great Hall. You started avoiding him at all costs. You couldn't even handle being in the same hallway as him. It makes you teary eyed whenever you remember the things he said to you.

Of course, Draco Malfoy had noticed the drastic change in your demeanor, too. He no longer had this Gryffindor stalking him around. He no longer had this girl that would send him chocolate frogs whenever she goes to Hogsmeade.

He should be glad, that's what Pansy tells him.

"Well, well, well, congratulations, Malfoy. You no longer had an obsessive stalker that would smell your hair whenever she's beside you in charms class! " Blaise Zabini chuckles, as he claps his hands together.

"Mission successful, I guess, huh? " Theodore Nott added.

Draco stayed silent, not answering any remarks, not looking at anyone.

"Anyway, Draco, would you mind going to the Yule Ball with me? " Pansy asks with hope in her eyes.

Meanwhile, Draco was dying inside at the faint mention of the Yule Ball. He remembered what he had said, and what he had lost.

Draco suddenly stood up from the couch of the common room and left the room before anyone could even ask what's going on.

"'m going to make things right, " Draco muttered to himself as he looks for you. Little did he know that Blaise was following him.

"Dude! Malfoy! Wait up! " Zabini yells as he grabs his best friend's arm, "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing? Pansy Parkinson, the finest Slytherin, just asked you if you wanted to go the ball with her. And you're here, bailing? Completely ignoring her? " Blaise yells, trying to put some sense into his friend.

"I already have someone I'm going with. "

"Who? Astoria Greengrass? Merula Synde?"

"None of those, idiot! "

"Who then? Y/N Y/L/N?"

Draco went silent at the mere mention of your name. Blaise looked discombobulated.

"What the hell, man? You're bailing Pansy Parkinson for Y/N Y/L/N? Are you insane?! "

"I don't know anymore, Zabini! I-I don't know what I'm feeling! "

"Are you really that bloody stupid, mate? You rejected her! Countless of times! We even laughed at her silly love letters together with Nott! "

"They were not silly, Zabini, you just.. don't understand. "

"Oh, I don't understand, alright! You hate her, Y/N, since the first year! "

"That's the thing, Zabini, I don't think I hate her now. "

"You've gone mental, man! I'm telling you! Have you flipped?! "

"Trust me, Blaise, I have no idea. "

💬 — hi !! OM GOSH, idk how to end this!! but i'm thinking either angst or fluff.. i still haven't planned. although, i finally found the perfect schedule when dropping fics (not like anyone cares); sundays in philippine time. anyway! i MIGHT make a masterlist now (with 2 fics in them lmao)

Sincerely, March.

#draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy x reader #weasley twins x reader #harry potter #fanfic #please support #support me please #draco malfoy x reader angst #angst #flipped

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etherealyoungk · 5 months

Text

strangers to lovers | moon junhui

seventeen as romantic tropes series ✩ masterlist ✩

PAIRING: junhui x reader

THEMES: strangers to lovers trope, blind date

WARNINGS: fluff

WORDCOUNT: 850

A/N: enjoy <3

you reached the restaurant a bit early and sat down at a table, waiting for your date to arrive. it was your first blind date and you were really nervous about it, but also a little hopeful because he seemed like a nice guy when you had talked and he seemed really eager to meet you. you wore a simple yet pretty outfit and some minimal makeup. you checked the time on my phone and it was almost 5:00pm. he should be here soon. but 15 minutes have passed and he's still not here.

"are you ready to order miss?" the waitress asks.

"no i'm actually waiting for someone", you say and she gives you a small nod and goes on her way. another ten minutes pass and he's still not here. you call and text him but he isn't taking your calls and isn't seeing your texts either.

dread and realisation wash over you as you realise you've been stood up. but some part of you doesn't want to believe it and you keep waiting, hoping that he's just late. the waitress makes her way to your table again and you try your best to keep calm as you tell her the person you're waiting for is running latel but she just gives you a look like she knows.

as you look around, people are glancing at you and giving you apologetic looks and you suddenly feel so embarrassed, looking down at your lap, and fiddling with your fingers. it's been almost 45 minutes and now you really don't think he's going to show up - you've been stoop up. you finally get the courage to get up and leave when a man you've never seen before and is damn well not your date sliding into the seat across from you, flashing you a pretty smile.

"hey babe, i'm so sorry i got late, i had a small setback at work", he says loudly, like he wants everyone to hear. you furrow my brows in confusion.

"'i'm jun, just go with it okay?" he adds quietly, and you don't know why but you went with it. maybe because he was trying to help you from this embarrassing situation.

"finally! i was so hungry", you reply, surpressing the urge to laugh out loud at what you were doing right now.

"oh really? you should have ordered something for yourself then, i'm so sorry for being late", he replied and you couldn't help but chuckle at this exchange, and he chuckled along too.

you both go quiet again, just looking at each other. "whoever didn't bother to show up is an ass", he says, breaking the silence. "so you don't mind if i join you right?" he asks, looking at you intently.

"no, it's fine", you say and we order our food.

"how did you know i was stood up?" you ask, leaning forward.

"oh, you're going to think i'm weird", he rubbing the back of his neck "like this situation isn't weird enough", you prompt, giving him a look.

"i see you in the bus almost every day and i thought of asking for your number so i followed you. but it looked like you were waiting for someone so i just sat on the bench outside. and when i saw no one had come after 20 minutes, combined with the look of dread on your face, it was easy to put it all together", he explains sheepishly.

"oh, was it that obvious?" you asked, feeling embarrassed and shy again. "yeah, but i think i came and saved you just in time didn't i?" he asked, proud. "yes you did, thank you for that", you say smiling.

he's so sweet and so cute not to mention really handsome. you both talk some more over dinner and he insists on paying even though you barely know him and you offer to pay him back.

"thank you again, it was really sweet of you", you tell, grateful and he smiles.

"no problem, i still can't believe that such a pretty person like you got stood up", he said, flattering you.

"you should really give your boyfriend a piece of your mind when you see him, he shouldn't have stood you up like that, he could have at least called and told you", he added as you furrow your brows in slight confusion.

"actually it was a blind date, i don't have a boyfriend", you said and you didn't miss the face light up at this piece of information, suddenly looking hopeful as he tried to hide the smile on his face.

"in that case, you do want to have lunch tomorrow with me?" he asked, and he was definitely nervous by the look on his face. was he asking you out?

"sure", you tell because why not? he seemed like a really sweet and cool guy and he was 100% better the guy who just stood you up.

he grinned when you said yes and you both exchanged numbers and parted ways. tonight was the best non-planned date ever.

taglist: @biboramp3 @naaaaafla @weird-bookworm @icyminghao @blue-jisungs @wootify @n4mj00nvq @itsveronicaxxx @fallingforshua29 @frankenstein852 @lvlystars @mirxzii @wheeboo @fairyhaos @kikohao @rubywonu @odxrilove @writingmeraki @asilentreader @kwonshiho @belladaises @graybaeismytae @mykpopficblog @seunghancore @emotionalsupportbrat @moodays @avaaahuang @foxinnie8 @wonvsmile

#skye's 4k event!#seventeen as romantic tropes with skye!#caratlibrary #k-labels #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen soft hours #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen drabbles #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt x reader #svt fanfic #svt scenarios #jun imagines #jun fluff #jun x reader

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nahoney22 · 2 years

Note

Howdy!! Congrats on 3k!! That’s awesome sauce and you deserve all the love❤️ could I have a sfw fic with the prompt ‘wait, you think i’m cute’ with echo? 💜💙🤍

Prompt List Celebration 3000 Followers

Echo X F!Reader

word count: 820

SFW

prompt:

“Wait, you think I’m cute?”

warnings: none, pure fluff. Female reader, reader becomes flustered around Echo, Echo being a flirt.

Authors note: thank you dear! Kicking and squealing writing this one. Enjoy.

"Do you have a type?"

The unexpected and whimsical query made you stifle a chuckle, almost spitting my drink across the bar.

Sitting with Bolo and Ketch, two regulars of Cid's bar, although it often felt as though yourself and the Batchers were becoming regulars as well. "What do you mean?" You asked, taken aback by the sudden question, clearing your voice from the surprise.

Bolo, with a mischievous grin, nudged Ketch and asked, "You're single, right? So, what's your type?"

"Definitely not you," You quipped with a playful smile, earning a round of laughter from the two.

Despite their jesting, they persisted with the same question. "To be honest, I don't think I have a type," You admitted, though it wasn't entirely truthful. There was one characteristic you looked for in a partner, but it just so happened to belong to a certain Clone.

"Hasn't any of those guys you hang out with asked you out?" Bolo, the lthorian, asked with a hint of intrigue, causing a warm blush to rise to your cheeks. The compliment was flattering, but the thought of being asked out by your friends was both awkward and endearing. But with Echo and his kind heart and constant support, immediately came to the forefront of your mind.

He was always there for you, a shoulder to cry on (although the was a little timid about it at first) and your go-to in times of need. He was simply… lovely.

As you glanced around the dimly lit bar, you’re reminded that your friends were off on a mission and it was just the three of you. Perhaps it was a moment of bravery, or perhaps foolishness, but you decided to share a secret with the two fools. "If I tell you something, you have to swear not to tell the others."

The pair of them gazed at each other in surprise, clearly taken aback that you were willing to confide in them. They nodded eagerly, leaning in closer with interest.

"I, uh," your voice carried a stammer, feeling bashful as you prepared to divulge your feelings for Echo to these two. "I do have a crush on one of the guys."

"Yeah?! Who?" they asked in unison, their grips on the table tight with excitement.

Taking a deep breath, chewing on your lower lip, Echo's name escaped past your lips.

"Him? Killjoy?" They both looked at each other, confused. "Why?"

You couldn't help but giggle, swirling the last remnants of your drink around in my glass bashfully. "I just feel happy when I'm with him. He's kind… dreamy." You trailed off, seemingly lost in thought and forgetting I was with company.

"Dreamy?" Bolo scrunched up his brows in mock disgust, though you could sense his excitement at this new revelation.

Your cheeks flushed red as you realized you had spoken your thoughts out loud. "He's cute. Okay? Are you happy now?"

“Wait, you think I’m cute?”

The sound of Echo's voice startled you, causing your heart to skip a beat and your eyes to widen in surprise. You’re frozen to your seat as you stare straight ahead at Bolo and Ketch who are now instantly standing up and running off.

Slowly, you turned around on your chair to find him standing behind you.

“Hi.”

“Hello.” He says with a soft chuckle escaping his lips and placing his helmet down on the table beside him before approaching you.

"Hi," you repeated again, obviously feeling a little flustered by the sudden appearance of the man who had been the subject of your secret confessions.

"Anything you want to talk about, pretty girl?" Echo prompted, standing in front of you as his fingers gently push a strand of hair behind your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"I-I-I uh-," you stammered, feeling completely tongue-tied and flustered as he gazed down st you with warm, sparkling eyes

"Well for the record," Echo interrupted your stuttering, tilting his head as he looked at you with a charming smile. "I think you're cute too. And dreamy." He repeats what you had said previously which only adds to your embarrassment.

But… he said you were cute? And dreamy, too? Does this mean…?

His words sent a rush of heat through your body, leaving you feeling completely enamored and unable to say anything in response. To which, Echo takes pity on you and almost cockily, a sudden boost of confidence shooting through him, leans forward and places a kiss to your cheek which was very, very close to your lips. “Speak after? I need to have a chat with Cid.”

He takes a step back, scoots up his helmet and sends you a wink. Where did that confidence come from?

You watch him leave through to the back room and as soon as he’s out of eyeline, you sucked in a deep breath, finally catching your breath back and let out a squeak of excitement.

Did that just happen?

Masterlist

Prompt list

Tags: @nunanuggets @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @cwarssimp @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @megafrost4 @theroguesully @equalityforcats @mustluvecho @misogirl828 @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @chxpsi @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @cosmic-persephone @imalovernotahater @the-good-shittt @whore4rex @photogirl894 @s1st3r @taskfork-archive @by-the-primes s @swiftiexstarwarssimp @therealnekomari i @autumnleaves1991-blog @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @lucyysthings @tinyreadersmur @agenteliix @myinnerwonderlandmind @rintheemolion @kaminocasey @hotpinkplastoid

#bad batch echo #echo x you #echo x reader #tbb echo x reader #tbb echo x you #clone wars #nahoney22 writes #tbb #bad batch echo x you

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reorientation · 8 months

Note

Rest stop anon again 😊 it's been about 9 weeks since I got knocked up by a stranger and a lot has changed for me. Most of the physical changes aren't noticeable enough yet for my friends to mention but my family has been slipping up by calling me a girl again and I haven't once corrected them. I stopped taking T as soon as I got a positive pregnancy test and I've been putting a lot of effort into taking care of myself and following doctors advice which has made me look much more feminine in general. I've been slowly phasing out all of my more masculine clothes for softer colours and more fitted clothes, I even went and got fitted for bras for the first time in years! Pretty soon I'll completely present as a girl again and then I'll tell people to treat me like it again ^^

I went back to that rest stop a few more times hoping to hook up but also maybe hoping to find the man who got me pregnant in the first place. I'm not sure if it's hotter to me to let the man stay a stranger or find him to show him what he did but I think I'll give up on looking for him. I've been much more horny and sensitive lately so I downloaded some apps for hooking up because I can't go into the mens washroom anymore now that I've stopped trying to look like a man so I've spent most of my free time being used by men 😌 the last guy practically worshipped my tits before fucking them and cumming all over them and since then I've been obsessively playing with them. Maybe I should get my nipples pierced some day..

This kink has made my life spiral into something so so good and I can't wait for when I'm further into my pregnancy and the only thing I'll be seen as is a woman. Thank you for letting me share this with you and everyone else ❤❤❤

(Previously)

You're always welcome here, good girl. ❤️

One of the most beautiful things about pregnancy - especially in former "boys" - is that "yet". The changes aren't casually noticeable enough yet. They don't all know what a stranger did to your body (or rather, what your body is doing for a stranger) yet. But they will. Every day it becomes a little more obvious, even as you pull that day of discovery a little closer by picking out clothes that flatter your changing curves.

It almost feels a little futile for you to finally get fitted for a bra at this stage, though. You're only nine weeks in, little first-time-mommy. Your breasts have so much more to grow.

If it were me who had knocked you up, I think the sweetest way to find out would be to see you again at that rest stop eight or nine months later - fully transformed and looking radiant in a maternity dress. I'd love for that to be my two memories of you: a scared little "boy" dripping my cum in a men's bathroom stall, and a woman whose body and life had been reshaped by the baby I put inside her.

But for now, you've got more growing to do, and that pregnant little pussy of yours deserves the rewards of serving men. Have fun on those apps, sweetheart. It's not like you can get any more pregnant, after all. ❤️

#kink interactions #reorientation writing #reor: anon ask #ftm misgendering kink #ftm detransition kink #ftm breeding #ftm girl #reor: anon life story #reor: rest stop anon

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Text

Wasted 5

Warnings: drug dealing/use, violence, noncon, and the usual. Proceed with caution.

Feedback is always welcome. Love you and thanks for the wonderful responses so far.♥♥♥♥

The other girl in this one is from Black Light

Part of The Club AU

You limp along the pavement, your platform dragging slightly with each step. You swallow a grumble as you try to ignore the persistent pang deep in your pelvis. It's easy to distract yourself as your bubbly companion continues her rambling.

You're still in disbelief. You really can't figure out how you woke up in a heap of trash. You've made bad decisions before, but you're not that desperate.

"You okay?" She calls to you as she stops and you keep walking.

You turn back as she opens the door of a storefront, the bell jingling loud enough to make your head throb. You assure her that you're fine as you follow her inside, welcomed warmly by the lowlights.

"Hot chocolate?" You confirm with her as you squint at the menu.

"Oh, sure, and whatever cookies they have," she trills.

"Right, well why don't you find a–" you begin as you flip open your purse and shove your hand inside. Your phone is gone and your wallet too. There's no more than your lip gloss and some old receipt. "Ah, fuck."

"What?" She bats her lashes fearfully.

"I got fucking robbed."

"Oh, it's okay, I can pay–"

"Thanks but… that's not gonna solve the issue," you mutter, "they took my phone."

"Ah, oh," she frowns, "I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's fine," you wave her off as she pouts, her fawning eyes making your chest give an unusual twang, "look, I'll figure it out."

"Excuse me," the worker behind the counter chimes, "how can I help you today?"

"Oh, uh," you step up, all too aware of how she eyes you up and down. You know you look like the trash you woke up in. "Sorry, I'll have the largest coffee you got with a shot of espresso."

"Great," they key in the first item.

"Er, can I get a small hot chocolate and a half dozen of the smores cookies?" The other girls asks as she searches her pockets, "can I get whip cream on my hot chocolate too? Please and thanks."

"Sure thing," the barista chirps and reads out the total.

You feel a sear of guilt and somethinf you won't acknowledge as the girl pays for you. You sigh as the employee assures you she'll come to you. You turn and trail after your new companion to a table in the corner. You flop onto the plushy chair and brace your head.

"So…" she squirms as she sits on a beanbag, sinking a bit too deep, "you got the summer off?"

"Summer off?" She asks.

"Uh, no, I'm a bit past those years," you shrug, "flattering of you to assume."

You lean your head back and exhale. You remember a vague silhouette. Something fucky is going on. You can barely even picture arriving at the club. The whole night is just wiped from ypur mind. Still, you know what happened. You feel it deep in your guts.

You shift and try to ignore the tenderness as your thighs brush together. You rub your eye and lean your chin in your hand. You watch the girl as she watches you.

"Well, your friends, they okay?"

"Um, yeah, they're fine. Amanda ditched us. Again. And Kam is mad at her. Again," she giggles, "they're so dramatic."

"Mhmm," you chew your lip as you think, "this guy that tried to drug you, you remember what he looks like?"

"Huh," she taps her finger to think, pausing to thank the barista as they come with your order and lay it out on the table, "the lights were flashing a lot but… tall. Uh, sandy blonde– no, brown hair… you know that shade where you're not quite sure. And his eyes were super blue. You know, he's cute enough he doesn't need to be doing that–"

"Yeah, well men do a lot of things they shouldn't," you scoff, "if you saw him again, do you think you'd recognise him?"

"Maybe," she shrugs and takes her cup, swiping her tongue through the mound of whip cream.

"If I need you to, can you?" You ask more urgently.

She blinks and her expression turns dire, "did… did something happen to you?"

"Look, I didn't just lay down with a garbage bag as a pillow. I didn't drink that much last night. Not enough to black out."

"Oh," she gulps audibly and her eyes sparkle, "oh, I'm so sorry. I… should we call the police?"

"Pfft, they won't do shit," you roll your eyes, "they never do. Not even when my ex climbed through my window– doesn't matter," you stop yourself, her rambling must be contagious, "what matters is I'm gonna find the fucker and get his ass back."

"What?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna drug him and leave him in the trash."

"Wait, er, what, you can't–"

"Why not? I have every right to fuck him right back."

She looks around as your voice gets louder. You ignore the looks from other diners and you lean forward, lowering your voice.

"You don't have to, alright? I can find the jerk on my own–"

"No, I'll help," she insists, "you can't go back alone."

"I don't want to make you–"

"No, no, I want to. Just thinking… if he did it to you, he'd do it to someone else. He almost did it to me," a tear wobbles out and she tamps her cheeks with a knuckle, "sorry, I… I just… you don't deserve that."

"Shit happens," you try to sound steady but your voice wobbles just a little. This isn't the place to let it in. "Hey, don't get upset, okay? I'm alive. Just…" you search around and reach for the tray of cookies, "have a cookie, they look delicious."

She sniffles and nods, taking the cookie from you and biting into it with a hiccup. You watch her chew and swallow. She gives a tight-lipped smile, "they are delicious," her face crumples again and she falls back into sobs, "I'm sorry."

"Shhh, hey, hey, it's fine. Look at me," you snap your fingers at her, "it's fine. You and me, were gonna get him back, right?"

She nods and takes another bite. You smirk and grab a cookie of your own.

"Alright, so we just need to come up with a plan."

#the club #wasted #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #drabble #series #au

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rainrot4me · 1 month

Note

I have never made an ask or whatever this is called to anyone before, but I just had to send one to you. (I blame the voices in my head. I had this idea of writing something to you inside my head for the whole day, and I'm writing this right before going to sleep.)

I quite literally adore your Creepypasta works. You're seriously one of the top writers I follow here on Tumblr. There's just something captivating in the way you write the characters. I feel they truly come to life in your writing. I can literally picture each and every scenario in my head so clearly, it's crazy. I especially like how well you can describe the backgrounds, the sensations happening, and the world around the characters, it really brings the whole story together. Your world building is seriously really good. I also love how you make them more "canon". It just makes so much sense to write them in a less flattering way and show that they're damaged murderers and very complex and such, and not write them in a way where they immediately change into this sweet, non-murderous guy once they meet y/n, and everything is all sunshine and rainbows. (No hate to people who write them like that, it is sometimes my guilty pleasure to read fics like that as well lol.)

You seriously make the best types of fanfics of all, "porn with plot". Truly the elite way of writing.

You inspire me to start writing here to be honest. (Even though realistic I couldn't, cuz I can't focus on writing everything that goes on in my head without me thinking it's not good enough, cuz I can't capture each and every detail perfectly. But that's my problem lol.)

Every time I get a notification that you've posted something I get so excited to see what masterpiece you've come up with now.

But, since this is still an ask, all I ask of you is that you write more Creepypasta fanfics, mostly about the guys, cuz that's my preference personally, but I ain't obviously gonna stop you from writing about our murderer gals. And keep up the good work. Plus, please remember to take breaks and be fully rested before writing anything.

Thank you so so so so so so so so much for your incredibly WONDERFUL message! It truly made my day to read your thoughts and feedback. Knowing that my Creepypasta works resonate with you and that you can vividly picture the scenarios I describe is incredibly rewarding and heartwarming 🤍🤍🤍🤍. I put a lot of effort into bringing the characters and their complex natures to life, so it's wonderful to hear that it comes through in my writing and brings such a comfort to others as well.

Your encouragement about my world-building and character development means a lot, especially since you appreciate the more canon approach I take with these idiot murderers. I so so love reading porn with plot so i want to reflect that in my own writing- it just makes it feel so much more meaningful and interesting imo!

I'm genuinely touched that I inspire you to consider writing yourself. Remember, this is a stupid fandom with stupid characters who just love what they’re doing, so don’t think that you have to portray them a certain way or write them exactly how others think they should be: make them your own, give them your own personal flare, and don’t be afraid to make them all lovey dovey if that’s what you really want. You’ll find people who appreciate you!

I'll definitely keep your request in mind and aim to write more of the boys fanfics. Your support and excitement mean the world to me, and I'll make sure to take breaks and stay rested so I can continue creating content you love. But make sure you all do as well! I can’t imagine what Id be doing without all of your love and abundant support, so thank each and every one of you for pushing me this far 🤍 Thanks again for reaching out and for your wonderful message! LOVE YOU ALL!!! 😊

#rainsbrain

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theclaravoyant · 3 months

Text

rotten work ~ bucktommy (rated T)

AN ~ a sort of sequel to Fireworks, prompted by @/chanelle on AO3. thanks for the idea and encouragement! hope you like it <3

also fills a kiss to the eyelid for my personal prompt challenge

sick!fic, hurt/comfort, fluff

Read on AO3 (~1700wd)

rotten work

“Tommy coming tonight?” Chimney asks.

Buck frowns down at his phone. He hasn't heard from Tommy since lunch, but he'd seemed fine. Excited, even – debating wine as a host gift, and deciding flowers might be a better option for the Grant-Nashes. Chimney looks to Eddie as well, who shrugs: he hasn't heard from the man either.

“Probably just getting cold feet, you know, meeting the parents,” Buck jokes. For such a stoic and hard to read guy, Tommy had been awfully caught up in the dilemma of to wear a tie or not the night before. “I'll confirm when I know he's still alive.”

Or maybe, Buck thinks, it's the other thing. PTSD, or so Buck had inferred at least, had driven Tommy to bail on the Fourth of July at the last minute. He can't think of anything obviously traumatic about this perfectly random Friday night, that had been chosen for no reason other than that most of them were free after getting off shift, but he's been doing a lot of reading around PTSD and triggers. They aren't always obvious or predictable, like fireworks, and Tommy isn't always able or willing to articulate himself about them. Then again, at least last time he had actually got to the bailing part albeit with a text before going dark. This was just... weird.

So Buck drives past Tommy's place. He's picked up Tommy's favourite sandwich, a meatball sub from Botticelli's, since that apparently went a long way to helping last time. He tries not to hold it so tightly he destroys it as he winds himself up over Tommy's silent suffering all the way there. Hopefully, hopefully, it's just the tie thing.

The lights are off just like last time, but there's no music to speak of. The place is dead silent.

Buck's got his own key this time, and as he pushes in through the door his hand goes to find the light switch immediately. Automatically.

“Huh. That's weird,” he mutters to himself and lowers his hand again. Because everything's on already, and on the bench Tommy has laid out his wallet and keys and a bouquet of flowers wrapped in yellow cellophane. And a box of nice after dinner mints, apparently. The suck up. Buck bites his lip; he has to admit that he's flattered by the effort.

“You know,” he calls, “nobody else is going to be wearing cuff links, but if you really want to, I say go with the black ones.”

He's more than half expecting Tommy to come out of the bedroom with that smile he gets when Buck knows him too well. Or maybe hold up one sleeve with the black cuff link and one with plain silver and start the previous night's conversation all over again. But nothing happens, and Buck feels a slight twinge of panic. Call it firefighters' instinct, Buckley bad luck, or the curse of the 118; either way, in his defense, it's not entirely unreasonable for his thoughts to gravitate toward the worst. Especially when he notices Tommy's phone is on the bench, with the rest of the outgoing things, and with the notifications starting to pile up.

“...Tommy?”

“Evan?” comes Tommy's voice from the other room. It's sort of… weak, and strangled-sounding. “'m not going to make it tonight, I'm sorry. I'm kinda – indisposed.”

Just like last time, when Buck had found him hiding out in his basement blasting High Voltage to drown out the fireworks, the truth is somewhere in the middle.

He hears the dull thud of plastic on porcelain, and follows it to Tommy's ensuite bathroom, where the man himself is curled up looking not unlike death warmed up. The room is too small for him to comfortably fit like this, so his limbs are a tangle and he looks all the more miserable for it.

“You look terrible,” Buck says.

“Yeah?” Tommy gives a weak chuckle. “Pretty sure I feel worse. I don't know if it was Lyndon's eggs, or the cruise ship we helped out the other day, but something evil is happening inside me.”

“You didn't want to call?”

“Didn't want to move,” Tommy corrects, but he can spare a little smile. “I figured you'd come for me soon enough.”

Buck dives forward to help, and Tommy gags.

“No. Get that away from me.”

Buck has forgotten, until this moment, that he's still carrying the sandwich. All that meat and cheese and rich, delicious sauce – it must turn the stomach at a time like this, and he can't do that to Tommy's favourite restaurant. He runs back out to the kitchen, puts it in the fridge, and exchanges it for a bottle of water. Tommy moans in agony, relief and gratitude as he takes it, and presses the bottle to his forehead for a moment.

“Oh, sweet cold.” He sings its praises, before screwing the lid off and taking a hesitant, fragile sip. “Thank God, Evan. You're the best.”

His hand shakes on the bottle, fever and exhaustion leaking free, and Buck hates the crease it puts between Tommy's brows. The man still hates being vulnerable, it's like jumping in a vat of hot water for him, and in a weird way, Buck gets that. Not everybody was raised to get attention by any means necessary. Guys like Tommy, like Eddie, even Bobby, they were more and more ignored the more they cried out until they stopped crying, and that only makes Buck want to glom himself all over them and scream until he knows that they know that he loves them. Of course, they'd hate that. But he wants it nonetheless.

“You can-”

“I'm not going to dinner,” Buck insists. “Hand me that washcloth.”

“Evan,” Tommy groans, and he can't exactly say 'I'm fine,' so instead he says, “it'll pass.”

He hands over the washcloth nonetheless, and Buck navigates his way across the very Tommy-filled bathroom and runs it under the tap. Then he lowers himself into the crook between the toilet and the bench as best he can, and dabs at the clammy sweat on Tommy's forehead. Slowly, slowly, the tension fades from Tommy's brow, from his shoulders, from his whole frame as he surrenders. He folds drowsily into Buck's lap, and Buck wipes the cool cloth everywhere he can reach: over his face; down his neck; he helps take the uncooperative dress shirt off and runs it over his chest for good measure. He even strokes Tommy's hair, which has no medicinal value whatsover, but if he had to defend the decision, he's sure he could drum up something about the power of stress reduction on healing. It's just like meditation, really.

(And like screaming, I love you, in a way Tommy might just be able to hear it).

Tommy lets the gentle rhythm of Evan's fingers through his hair soothe him. As trivial as a bit of potential food poisoning might be in the grand scheme of their lives, maybe it's good practice: he's still getting used to the idea of somebody being there for him through things he would normally be soldiering through on his own. He's grown enough to try, at least; the drawbridge may be rusty, but he's doing his best to let it down, and he likes it. He really likes it, actually, even if the excuse of illness makes it a little easier to embrace. Evan's hands are gentle and steady and patient, and it makes him feel light, and the tiles around him are clouds, and Tommy imagines dreamily that he could drift off to sleep right here. He doesn't even notice his eyelids have fallen closed, until a soft kiss is pressed to one of them. He really likes that too.

“What do you think,” Buck asks, after a moment. “Are you – uh, finished here?”

“Hope so,” Tommy murmurs.

“Then... can we please get up before I lose circulation to my ass?”

Tommy laughs. He might be in the clouds, but his boyfriend is not so blessed by the delirium of fever and exhaustion. He's loathe to think what sort of contortions poor Evan has had to work himself into to fit, beside Tommy no less, on the not overly generous bathroom floor. So Tommy braces himself for a freshly angry stomach, and sits.

He lets himself lean on his boyfriend and they struggle to a stand and then stagger into the bedroom together. Evan brooks no argument as he gently but firmly tucks Tommy under the covers and leaves him there a moment to bustle around. He knows the place well enough now, to go and find towels and a bucket from the laundry and Tommy's phone charger and set up a little sick station for him by the bedside. He even brings a fresh pyjama shirt, but doesn't put it on him; just leaves it nearby, easily reachable for later, when the fever breaks and he realises how cold being half naked and slightly wet actually is in this weather. Tommy doesn't know where Evan picked up these little things; maybe from Maddie, who looks after him even now, or maybe from taking care of Christopher. Maybe something about it is just in him, in his drive to care for the people he loves so much that of course he would think of that. Tommy's always loved that about him.

He loves that Evan never backs down; whether it's in the field or here, in the bedroom, bringing in a laptop and depositing himself, gently but firmly, under the covers like it's a promise not to leave. He pulls Tommy against him, encouraging him to tuck into his side, and Tommy can hardly argue with that, even if the firm line of Evan's lips looks like he expects that he might.

Evan looks down at drowsy Tommy with fondness in his gaze. His finger traces a soft, meaningless like on Tommy's back and his lips quirk into a smile.

“So,” he proposes. “Notting Hill or Love, Actually?”

#evan buckley x tommy kinard #tv: 911 #911 fic #kinley #bucktommy #tevan #clara's fic tag #prompt me stuff

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