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userlando · 1 year

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fill her veins — lando norris

lando norris x fem!reader [3.5k] summary: your friend’d had you in all the different ways. fast and hard, deep and bone rattling but this was his favourite. lazy, slow and deep. warnings: 18+ explicit smut & language, friends with benefits, porn without plot, lazy sex, unprotected (piv) a/n: to the anon that dropped this concept in my ask box, I hope you don’t mind that I took the idea and ran with it. I have so many drafts to finish but this just wouldn’t leave my mind. consider this as a thank you for all the amazing love you’ve poured me with lately, I love you guys so much!! lmk what you think of this!

Lando has an odd taste for trashy reality tv shows. He claims that he doesn’t, that he usually puts them on for background noise but he always ends up settling down on the nearest flattest surface; Eyes glued to the screen. It’s funny, it’s not something you’d expect and most of all, you don’t really mind it. Because he doesn’t care if you don’t pay any attention to it, as long as you’re either in his lap or spooning him.

He’d texted you earlier tonight and you hadn’t expected it, not really. You figured that after the long weekend in Belgium, he’d be ready to travel where the wind took him without any worry about the next weekend where he’d have to show off his best side and bring home a win for his team. Lando had talked about the Maldives and even Singapore, hinting at you coming with him but you’d been quick to shut him down, claiming that your life couldn’t be put on hold. Because it couldn’t.

But he’d gone home, spending exactly three hours with Max before the fucker abandoned him to hang out with his girlfriend and Lando was bored out of his mind when the flat got too quiet, so quiet that he could hear the neighbours flushing their toilets. Then you’d sent him a funny video of cats and Lando had responded with an ‘are you home?’ after laughing himself silly to the video.

That was three hours ago, he’d pressed a smacking kiss to your cheek when you’d opened the door for him, sniffing the air because he could clearly smell the bolognese that you’d made, giving you a look that you recognised so intimately. You’d seen the pleading look plenty of times in various situations, and now it was saying ‘can I please have whatever’s cooking in the kitchen?’ And who were you to deny him?

Lando had shovelled a plate and a half of spaghetti, moaning over how good it was and completely ignoring your rolling eyes of fond exasperation and a little shyness, and then the both of you had settled on your sofa on top of each other with Love Island playing in the background.

You were dozing, half conscious and absolutely not interested in what was going on, but Lando? Lando was enraptured, eyes shining with interest in the dark when you tilted your head up to look at him. The glow of the television cast pretty shadows on his face, the long eyelashes and the beard he’d decided to grow out on his upper lip and chin. It looked good on him. And better yet, it felt good on your sensitive skin. There had been too many times to count where he’d rub it raw and sore, between your legs so you couldn’t wear dresses and skirts in fear of your thighs rubbing together, or your face when he kissed you as deeply as he did.

You still remembered the time when you’d put on an excessive amount of lipbalm after a night of heavy petting, catching Max’s raised eyebrows across the table. He didn’t say anything, but he might as well could have with how expressive his eyes and face were. It was unnerving.

Lando sensed you shifting on his chest, peering down at you with his bushy eyebrows pulled together. It was dark, the television the only provider of light but you saw the confusion clear as day in his eyes as they flitted across your face, trying to gauge your facial expression.

“What?” He asked, hands halting where they’d been stroking up and down your back subconsciously. You immediately missed the soothing motion of them, having gotten quite used to the impromptu back massage.

“Nothin’.” You murmured, laying your head back down with your ear pressed to his chest.

The steady beat of his heart was like music to your ears, lulling you to a slow sleep that you could almost see on the horizon and Lando wasn’t making it any easier to stay awake with the way his hands were gently scratching your back with his blunt fingernails over your shirt. He knew you loved it, did it as often as he could.

You let out a pleased little hum when his hands found their way under your shirt, fingertips mapping out the bumps of your spine. Up, up, up, and then he stopped with a small noise in his throat.

It made you hide a smile into his hoodie, knowing exactly where his mind was going when his fingers travelled to either side of your back; Right where your bra strap would’ve went, if you were wearing one.

Lando clearly seemed pleased with his new discovery, heart thudding just a little harder under your ear as he shifted beneath you. You sucked in a quiet breath, looking up at him just in time for him to stare back.

“No bra, eh?” His lips pulled into a slow, playful smile that had you smiling, tongue in cheek. “Cheeky.”

“I never wear one around the house, twat.” You pointed out.

“Fair enough.” He nodded, tightening his arms around you to force you upwards on his chest, putting you face to face. “Hi.”

He blinked up at you, slowly, like sleep was on the doorstep and knocking. Lando looked tired but there was an underlying layer of lust in his eyes that you’d come to recognise. It never failed to send a thrill up your spine and it was what prompted you to close the small distance between the two of you, noses brushing against each other as he exhaled teasingly.

“Lando…” You frowned as you went to kiss him, only for him to pull away.

It didn’t escape you how whiny you sounded, but you hadn’t gotten laid in almost two weeks and he’d been sending you very suggestive photos and texts when he was away.

Never mind that you’d started it, firing off a photo with no additional text of your tits, knowing that he was most likely in a briefing with his team and there was a major chance that someone nearby would see the photo over his shoulder if he’d open it up without any warning.

But you didn’t care. It’s what made it fun, after all. Especially when he’d sent a series of exclamation and question marks, cursing you out for doing it so publicly.

“You’re so impatient, darling.” He tsked you, nipping your lower lip when you pushed forward in hopes of him kissing you.

You pouted until his face broke out into a smile, bringing a hand up to the back of your head; Fingers sliding into your hair for a grip as he finally pushed his lips against yours.

It was slow and chaste at first, a kiss to your upper lip before he sucked on the lower one, relishing in the stuttered exhale you released into his mouth. There was no denying that Lando was a good fucking kisser, ever so patient and passionate and it was only made evident when he pried your lips apart to taste your tongue. His hand spanned against your cheek, thumbing your chin to keep your mouth open as he licked into it. You could taste the faint spices of the food he’d had earlier, along with the sweetness of the bag of Squashies you kept in your pantry, only because he liked them. It was a heady mix.

You couldn’t lie and say that it wasn’t erotic, that it didn’t make your toes curl and your spine tingle with all kinds of emotions when his tongue slid against yours so sensually. He truly took his time, loving on your lip and kissing you so thoroughly that you were out of breath and a little dazed by the time he pulled away. He thumbed your lower lip, his own smiling and pink, bitten raw.

Lando allowed the both of you a few seconds to catch your breaths, immediately going for another round but this time he dove straight in, kissing you deeply. It was when the both of you started to let out these breathy little moans against each other’s mouths and grinding slowly that Lando took action, sliding his other hand that had been idle on your back, down your spine and slipping into your shorts.

He felt the curve of your ass, his palm swallowing up your cheek as he grabbed it in a painfully delicious grip that had you grinding down against him, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Your lips dropped open, moaning into his mouth when you felt his hardness press against your crotch. It relieved a little pressure off of you, but there was no denying that you were soaking and in need of more. More of Lando, more of his touch.

“Fuck, I love this arse.” He trapped his bottom lip between his teeth when his hand tightened on the flesh of your cheek, fingers no doubt bruising the skin. It felt amazing. “Can’t wait to taste you.”

You made a noise of protest against his cheek, where you’d been pressing your face against it, hands cupping his cheek.

“No,” you murmured against his mouth before kissing him. “No tasting, just need you inside me.”

Lando nodded gently, reaching a hand down to your shorts in a practiced motion to run his fingers gently between your folds. His eyes left yours to look at your crotch, jaw going slack at the wetness he found there and you whimpered when his wet finger touched your clit, circling it until you were squirming.

“Need you.” You murmured against his ear, pressing your face to the side of his and nudging your nose against his cheek.

He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to because he was already slipping a finger into you; a second one joining him soon after. Lando stretched you out, feeling your warm breath against his cheek and hearing your poorly concealed moans of pleasure as he worked you, sounding a lot like heaven to his ears. He crooked his fingers and fucked you gently, thumb notching against your swollen bud just to hear your breathing pick up.

It was a telltale sign that you were close, hands clutching at his hoodie, right over his chest and it made his head dizzy how your legs were locking up around his hips the closer you got. He turned his head to find your lips, messily slotting them over your mouth and swallowing your high pitched groans as you came around his fingers.

Your body shook, hands flexing in their tight grip of his hoodie and Lando marvelled at the sighs and sounds you were making, letting you trap his bottom lip to suck on it. That one gesture made every ounce of blood rush to his cock, so fast that he almost went dizzy with it and he hurriedly pulled his fingers out of your tight clench, sliding his fingers into his mouth for a quick taste of your juices.

You made a small sound of protest, feeling boneless and too tired to chastise him for making such a show of it. He loved making you come on his fingers, loved it even more when he could suck the slick off of his digits because you’d always squeak in embarrassment and swat at him with your hands.

It took a lot of effort to adjust yourself on top of him, reaching your weak arms down between the two of you to pull at his shorts. Lando wasn’t much of a help, watching silently as you yanked his shorts down far enough to get his cock out. It was rigid, sticking up so lewdly and flushed pink and you licked your lips; craving to get your mouth on it.

But you were too tired, and Lando was clearly way too impatient to wait any longer as he pulled your shorts and underwear to the side, grabbing himself by the base to guide himself to your centre. You bit your lip, anticipating the burning stretch but he didn’t push in, sliding his length between your lips to slick himself up instead.

You opened your mouth to tell him to get on with it but the words died on your tongue along with your last brain cell when the head of his cock nudged your clit, making you shudder at the unexpected sensitivity.

“Fucking hell,” Lando cursed in a murmur, sounding dazed and not at all there.

Your eyes flickered up to him just in time to witness as he brought his other hand to his mouth, dribbling saliva onto the length of his fingers and bringing it back down to stroke his cock. It was lewd, so disgustingly hot and you had to have him right now.

Lando must’ve felt the same because he was finally moving, notching himself against your hole and waiting for your wordless consent that contained of a quick nod and a needy sound, before he raised his hips and pushed himself into you.

You responded with a keening sound, pushing your hips down and taking way more of him in the process than you were ready for. It burned, stretched to the limit with only spit and slick to help you take him, but you both had worked with less before.

And Lando knew how to read your body, knew that your fisted hands meant for him to pause, to breathe and let you get used to his size. It never got easier, there was so much thickness to him that could simultaneously bring so much pleasure, but also pain if you weren’t too careful.

A sadistic part of you loved it though. You loved feeling him for days after a good lay, would often rile him up to the point that he’d bend you over and fuck you silly.

Your skin still tingled when you thought of the early days of your arrangement, where you’d been at his place late at night. You’d played Call of Duty and gotten him so worked up that he shoved you down on the sofa, ass up and face down, pulling a bone shattering orgasm from you with the help of his sinful mouth before he fucked you so hard that you were drooling and muffling your moans into the cushions. It was a worthless effort though, Max had heard you and he’d made it clear during breakfast the next day.

“You good?” He asked, touching your chin with his thumb and you blinked, realising that you’d drifted someplace else completely.

You nodded slowly, holding his gaze as he pulled back and thrust forward, rattling your bones and pulling a moan from your lips. Your fingers ran through the hairs on the back of his head, pulling his face close to yours as he started fucking you slowly, reaching so deeply inside of you that the sensations made your eyes flutter and roll.

Lando had a hard time keeping his eyes open and on you, watching your mouth gap open and closed in unintelligible words and sharp gasps, eyelids fluttering shut. He kissed you when you started moving your hips against his, adjusting your positions so you were fully straddling him. It must’ve done something for you because you were suddenly pulling at his hair, his head going back with it and mouth going slack around a groan.

It put your mouth in level with his throat, thick and exposed, so pretty that you couldn’t help but suck bruises into the vulnerable skin.

You moved against each other, fucking slowly like you had all the time in the world, kissing and bruising each other up with the help of your hands and mouths.

Your friend’d had you in all different ways. Fast and hard, deep and bone rattling but this was his favourite. Lazy, slow and deep. Where he could feel every tight and warm crevice of you, feel you slicking him up the wetter you got.

Lando’s breaths grew deeper, groans becoming more guttural and you knew he was close to his climax; riding him just a bit harder to help him get there.

He slid both hands around your hips, slipping into your shorts and grabbing your cheeks in bruising handfuls with a moan; Needy and whimpering against your mouth and you kissed him harder in response.

His fingers slipped between your ass cheeks, and the slight touch to your hole took you by surprise, your body suddenly seizing up as you cried out your sudden climax. It was like the breath had been punched out of you, coming so hard on his cock that Lando had to stop the movements of his hips because the tightness became too restrictive.

The both of you grabbed at each other, mouth to mouth, stealing each others breath as Lando fucked up once, twice before he released a guttural moan; shooting off into you.

You could feel him inside, feeling all too sensitive and absolutely exhausted from your orgasm to do anything but take it. Lando was giving off these small moans, gasping like he couldn’t breathe properly and it was only when he started shuddering from oversensitivity that you attempted to get off of him.

He slid out easily, cock wet as you dripped with him and it was such a filthy sight that you couldn’t help but flush warmth all over.

You knew that you’d have to get up eventually and shower, feeling disgusting and entirely too warm to stay wrapped in each other. But Lando wasn’t ready to let you go yet, and neither were you, to be honest. You let him wrap you up in his arms, nuzzling his face into your throat and exhaling tiredly.

“That was exactly what I needed.” He murmured hoarsely into your throat.

You hid a smile into his damp curls, cupping the side of his face and bringing his head up to face you. He blinked, squinting eyes and blown out pupils, and you thought that he’d never looked as good as he did now. So relaxed with no worry in the world.

It was hard to refrain from kissing him, pushing small kisses to his cheeks and one to his lips that he tiredly responded too. It was like it took way too much energy to move his lips, and it made you smile when he whined.

“Can you carry me to bed?” He asked and you reached your fingers up to pinch the tip of his nose.

“Absolutely not.” You wiggled on top of him, pulling a strangled sigh from his lips. “We need a wash first, and you’ve got a lot of work to do.”

That made him crack an eye open to stare at you in confusion.

“Work?” He frowned.

“You came in me, you’ll get it out.” You said, like it was obvious.

Lando’s eyes narrowed, “You’re the one who likes it.”

“I didn’t ask for it.”

His hand came down on your ass cheek, the slap hard enough to make you jump with a yelp. You glared at him with no real malice, ignoring the spike of heat that the unexpected pain sent up your spine because now was not the time to delve deeper into your interests of pain.

“You didn’t have to.” He said, matching your defiant tone of voice now. “Your body said it all, baby.”

You faked a gag, moving to roll off of him and he let you go without any fight.

“You’re gross. Get out of my flat.”

Lando cackled, making a poor attempt at sitting up on the sofa. You watched him struggle for moment, trying not to smile in amusement at the way his hair was all messy, curls wild and unruly.

“I’ll help you out,” He said and you knew there was a catch coming, judging by the tone of his voice. “If I can go down on you.”

You grimaced, as if the thought of him licking you clean didn’t make you clench. It wasn’t really a normal occurrence, but it did happen on rare occasions. Lando was a lot filthier in bed than you’d originally thought, and discovering his kinks had been an adventure so far.

“Oh, fine.” You sighed with a flourish, like you were doing him a favour rather than the opposite. “But you have to wash my hair first.”

You had your back turned to him now, walking in the direction of your bathroom but you could almost hear Lando’s exasperated eye roll, making you a hide a smile as you pushed the bathroom door open.

“Blow me.” He muttered.

“Maybe I will.” You teased.

Lando gave you no time to turn around, crowding up behind you and wrapping his arms around your torso to bring you flush against him. The sharpness of his teeth on your shoulder made you squeal with a giggle, squirming in his hold but he was too strong.

“Come on then,” He pressed his face to the side of your neck and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Get your ass in there, I want to get my mouth on you before you start dripping.”

You’d never moved faster than you did.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x female reader #lando norris fic #f1 #f1 fic #f1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 fics

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punkpandapatrixk · 9 months

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🌟Blessings to Expect throughout 2024 ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

‘You’re always here. What are you doing?’

‘Nothing…nothing in particular.’

‘You’re Saibara’s grandson, right? Aren’t you working at the Blacksmith shop?’

‘I’m not interested in that. I want to go back to the city.’

‘Oh… I came from the city, too. My dad moved the family to this village because he was going to study plants. I felt lonely at first. But the people here are all very kind.’

‘I don’t feel lonely. But I can’t find what I want to do in this village.’

‘What is it you want that you can’t find here?’

‘Well, it’s…oh, nothing…’

‘My mother always says that if you can’t find what you want to do, then do what you can see to do now. Nobody finds what they want immediately. But if you waste your time every day because of that, you’ll never find anything... To tell you the truth, I haven’t found what I’m looking for yet, either. See you.’

— Mary and Gray’s conversation from Harvest Moon: Back To Nature

SONG: Somewhere Over the Rainbow by Judy Garland

MOVIE: The Wizard of Oz (1939)

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Welcoming Love, True Love

VIBE: Ready for Your Love (feat. MNEK) by Gorgon City

end of a struggle – King of Swords

You’ve been incredibly and marvellously responsible for…quite a number of years, I think? For some of you maybe a couple of months or so. But your struggles have ended; nearing ending; or you just haven’t realised yet how everything has changed for the better now. If you take a moment to really notice yourself, I’m sure you can tell just how much clearer you’ve become about many things pertaining to your surrounding and sense of Self. I feel you’ve worked really hard to overcome excessive trauma noises that have caused you a great deal of psychological pain.

Starting this year, you can feel more confident in your intellectual capacity to gauge situations right in front of you. Making choices will be a lot easier now because you’re clear about who you are as a person and what it is you truly want out of your own existence. You’ve clearly set enough boundaries with those who didn’t have your best interest. Seems to me you’ve learnt the hard way to be more selfish in the spirit of self-preservation. And so, the adventure of a lifetime begins right this moment.

In fact, I feel like your entire Life up until this point has been quite the adventure—only it has been filled with sorrow and misery, sorta. Surely it was your Hero’s Journey taking shape for the early chapters of your Life’s Story. A slow burn of a lifetime, if you will. Beginning this year, you’re entering the most exciting part of your rise to glory and everlasting happiness!

in your favour – 8 of Pentacles

You’ve been hustling behind the scenes for the most part. At least, those who aren’t close to you will never know just how much work you’ve put into bettering your world from the inside out. You worked so much on your mindset; you must’ve exercised a lot, too; tried to eat more cleanly and healthily; worked on your glow-up; brushed your skills; etc. You were investing in yourself for the future vision you’ve always held close to your heart. And for that reason, the seeds are now blooming.

You’re making me think of the bamboo plant. Did you know that a bamboo seedling takes around 5-7, maybe even 8-10, years to gestate underground? All alone in the dark without anyone knowing what’s going on down there. And when the seedling shoots up to the surface, the bamboo plant is famous for being the fastest growing plant there ever is.

So yeah~ fast or no fast in your mind, the point is that you’ve done the work on yourself and all the plans you’ve ever had for your Life. This year, 2+0+2+4=8, is the year you reap all the rewards and grow even faster from where you are now. Whatever undertaking you begin this year will gain traction super fast! Pat yourself on the back because when things get super good, you deserve to take a small break and just enjoy how far you’ve come~! Breathe~

catching stars – Page of Wands

Your Story is totally far from finished. With the Page aenergy—a kid’s aenergy—you’re only on the precipice of entering a Life of passion and purpose. You could almost say, it’s a new Story altogether just because this chapter of your Life is SO SO SO super good in comparison to the chapters about your struggles. I guess you’d call this a new arc huehue

You’re young Hercules now. Pretty soon, there will occur some big event that propels you into a bona fide hero, and then, you’ll meet your Megara~ This part of your Story is where you enter a circle of true—at least truer—friends and lovers who will motivate you throughout the next chapters of your Life. Sure, sure, struggles don’t just end, poof, like that and you will continuously need to learn to sift through these new breeds of friends and acquaintances. But that’s also part of your next level growing up, so don’t sweat the possibilities XD

Throughout 2024, you could be moving to a new environment and then meet new friends. Highkey you’re gonna be meeting Soulmates and Soul Fam members; these are the people who resemble you so much either on the inside or outside. These are people who think like you, care about the same things as you; basically you’re gonna finally feel like you truly belong somewhere on this Planet. Love is in the air because you’ve been giving so much Love to yourself before this point. You are Love. You emanate Love wherever you go because you love yourself, and thus you become a magnet for people who also will love you just as good~

APPLE STRUDEL🔻💛

honey lemon juice – Silver Magus (Merlin)

have a sweet time, honey – Priestess of Love

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Pile 2 – Rising Up to Accept Yourself Wholly

VIBE: She Said from Kamikaze Girls

end of a struggle – Knight of Cups

You’ve kinda just gone through a death of a paradigm of sort. I feel that in the past, you simply didn’t really know who you were or what you were meant to be. This confusion of an identity was caused by your parents/caretakers not really appreciating you for who you were as a child or it could also be caused by your environment, race, culture, custom, tradition, stuff like that. It wasn’t your fault, you know. You literally grew up on your own and finally got clear about your own identity—you stopped caring if your real identity is too weird, too eccentric for this world.

Basically, you got tired of rejecting yourself. And you realised that you were doing that because you knew others wouldn’t accept you. Then you realised people are shitty and lame for the most part anyway, so you learnt to be OK with embracing all of your weird heart’s little desires. And you nurtured yourself and nurtured yourself until you rose above the lameness of most of Humanity. Did you know? You did the right thing, really. Through and through.

You’re definitely an Advanced Soul. I think even when you were a kid you always felt like there was some spirit/shadow parental figure walking behind you, guiding your thought processes. This older/bigger unseen figure was really just your own Higher Self, you know :D More than others would give you credit for, you’ve been such a good gal/boi for always listening to the guidance of your Higher Self~

in your favour – 3 of Pentacles

Beginning this year, you’re going to finally meet people who are similar to you. Similar as in, you’re going to meet a lot of colourful characters, really. People who also feel somewhat like society’s outcast. These people are going to come from various backgrounds and they will each have very interesting back stories and life experiences that will entertain you for a long time. These people could also have very strange, unusual hobbies that will spark your interest in new, alien pursuits.

With that said, this year could be the year you begin a new passion project of your own, with these people, new friends, you share a vision with. They do care about you and want to succeed together, so you can trust that these connections are going to bear sweet feelings for you. Most importantly, this year you’re going to know the sweet feeling of doing something meaningful with your natural talents born out of your innate interests. When you finally get the money, you will first and foremost taste gratitude from those who seem to love and enjoy what you do or have to offer~

Life really is getting better now because you’ve mustered the courage to explore your possibilities in all your eccentricity. Your Higher Self never meant for you to fit in anyway. You were always meant to be some sort of a genius trailblazer—a source of inspiration for the other lameass Humans who are too afraid to be themselves.

catching stars – 10 of Pentacles

What more can be said? On top of embracing yourself fully, loving yourself wholeheartedly, and meeting kindred spirits, you’re also going to gain a massive amount of money! Life’s always good when you have a lot of money! More money means a happier heart and more to share as well. But in your case, if you’ve chosen this Pile as your main pile, know that before a lot of money even trickles into your reality, it is the sense that you’re serving your Life Purpose what will make you feel rich.

After all, there could people reading this who came from a wealthy background and you may think you don’t crave or even care about money. Exactly. You never cared about a lack of money but didn’t you struggle with grounding yourself to this Reality because you didn’t know what you were put on Earth to do? This ‘10 of Pentacles sense of abundance’ encompasses a sense of material abundance that feels deserving; you can now feel worthy of getting paid for some passionate, incredible, show-stopping contribution you’ve made to society. Isn’t that such a wonderful feeling?

Some of you reading this could mend some broken bonds with family; some others could finally find a tribe—a Soul Family—and feel that you belong; some could start a family of your own with someone worthy of your high-grade affection. Congratulations~! You’ve really made it this far~ Things can only get better and better from here♥︎

APPLE STRUDEL🔻💗

honey lemon juice – Green Historian (Herodotus)

have a sweet time, honey – Priestess of Patience

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Pile 3 – Stepping On the Pedestal of Destiny

VIBE: Cheer Up, Charlie from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory

end of a struggle – King of Pentacles

If you’ve chosen this as your main pile, I just know it that you’ve been working so hard on yourself, on a level that’s practically incomprehensible for most people. I’m sure you’ve survived so many deaths of the spirit—and perhaps even some of the more dramatic attempts. And you’ve come on top of your misery now. You’ve gotten healthier and clearer about where you’re going next. I sense sometimes you still doubt yourself but it isn’t a sin to doubt, it’s just a sign that you want to do well. And on so many levels, sometimes you’re afraid because you genuinely want this dream/vision to happen to you.

I assure you with this reading that you’re on the fast track towards a rendezvous with Destiny. Fast…is honestly relative to each Soul’s blueprint tho XD Time is on your side and what’s meant for you can’t miss you. So chillax, OK? One thing to know about this great dream/vision of yours is that you’re going to see it manifest because you’re different from the rest. Different in that you want to see it manifest to be of service to the rest! When you really think about it…

Don’t you just know from deep within your Soul that you’re deserving of this great destiny? It’s because you’re going to serve a massive purpose with it! So many people would benefit from your realising this dream. And that’s the very thing! You’ve been holding on to this vision, and you want it, because you’re MEANT for it.

in your favour – 4 of Cups

I’ll be referencing the 1971 ver. of Willy Wonka here. And honestly, I think you should watch it by the weekend or something because that movie’s whole vibe will feel tremendously validating to you, I sense hahah

Have you heard of the theories that say Charlie was literally singled out by Willy Wonka from the very beginning? That he had chosen all of those horrible brats because he wanted to punish, oops, teach them a lesson, and that principally he had been watching Charlie and wanted HIM to inherit the Chocolate Factory. If you watch the 1971 film you’ll literally get it! And with this 4 of Cups, know that that’s how the Universe feels about you stepping into your destiny. Willy Wonka, or God idk, doesn’t want anybody else but YOU to fulfil this role~!

You’ve literally been chosen and singled out by the Universe to win the grand prize! Just so you know, as I’m typing these words I literally have the Willy Wonka movie playing on another window and as I typed ‘grand prize’, the person in the movie is saying it right at the same time at around the 19:11 minute mark. Things can’t get any more synchronous than that!🤯

This year, you’ll really see how every single thing is going to work out in your favour. And knowing the inner work you’ve done on yourself, I’m sure you’re spiritually mature enough to sense, to notice every small nudge that tells you what you need to do at a given time😊New adventures are just around the corner, baby~!

catching stars – 5 of Pentacles

So you see, how is 5 of Pentacles appearing for a segment about you catching stars? This is, in fact, reaffirming that your dream come true will also serve as a salve for those who are wounded and hurting. You really are a medicine for this sick world. This year, you’re going to see serendipitous events and meetings what will open the door towards the physical manifestation of your dream Reality. Once you step on to the pedestal of Destiny, there’s no stopping you. You’ll be moving so fast it drives you mad!

This card is also saying you must be careful of possible leeches coming towards you; it’s best to use caution and discernment when revealing to others your plans and goals. Be stingy with information as per your gut instinct’s nudges, OK? Be mature enough to know not everybody will be happy at the prospect of your massive success that could potentially change Mankind. People get envious of such ideas, alright? Be careful not to hit the already low self-esteem of some people around you LMAO

I also feel that this year you will begin new routines that benefit your health and physical strength. If this is something you’ve been working on, you will see this year that the implementation of these routines feels more natural and effortless. You’ve managed to master your thoughts, emotions, and time management—or soon to do. Money will also come more abundantly, so all your basic needs are easily met. You’ve become a magnet for good luck—or soon to notice you’ve done so!🍀

APPLE STRUDEL🔻🧡

honey lemon juice – Red Astronomer (Johannes Kepler)

have a sweet time, honey – Priestess of Innocence

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]

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moonstruckme · 8 months

Note

i’d love to see a doctor!remus with a reader that has chronic pain, if you’re interested in writing that <3

Thanks for requesting! I read online that migraines are considered chronic pain, so I hope that's accurate

cw: migraine, period cramps

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 726 words

The bed dips as Remus replaces the cold compress over your eyes, and you feel like you’re sandwiched between two temperatures, heating pad on your belly and ice pack on your head.

“Can I have more painkillers, please?” you mumble.

Remus’ voice is usually quiet, but now he speaks softer than soft. “You can have more in an hour.”

A self-pitying ache starts up in the back of your throat. Which is great, because what you really need right now is more aches. “Can you pass me my coffee then?”

There’s a second of hesitation, and you can hear the denial forming in it. “It’s too late for caffeine,” he murmurs. “You need to sleep soon or it’ll only be worse tomorrow, lovely girl. I’m sorry.”

He sounds it, but a petulant whine works its way out of you anyway. A hot tear leaks from the corner of your eye, dribbling into your hair. You know crying will only make things worse, but you’re feeling so wretchedly sorry for yourself that you almost don’t care. Worse isn’t something you can conceptualize.

“It hurts all over,” you whimper.

Remus makes a sound just as miserable, and then his hand is at your hairline, stroking tentatively. “I know,” he whispers. “I know, I’m so sorry. Do you need the heating pad turned up?”

You murmur that you don’t. Your cramps aren’t great, but they pale in comparison to the throbbing agony of your head. And even if it helped your cramps, you don’t think you could handle the sensation of more temperatures right now.

“Okay.” Remus pets your hair gently, callouses scraping against the skin of your forehead. “All right, darling, let’s try this.”

He takes your hand in his, and you can feel the edge of his short nail as he presses into your palm, rubbing tiny, concentrated circles into your skin. For a minute you can’t muster the will to ask what he’s doing, but then the pain ebbs slightly, and you find your voice.

“What’s this?”

“Pressure point. Is it helping?”

“I think so.” Not a ton, but it’s something. You force yourself to relax the muscles around your eyes, and that helps a bit too. “Thank you,” you breathe.

Remus makes a soft sound, catching another tear as it skids down your face. His thumb still drills into that place on your palm. It hurts a tiny bit, but not near enough for you to ask him to stop. “It kills me to see you like this,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry I can’t do more.”

“Yeah, couldn’t you get me some morphine or something?”

The little laugh that follows is odd-sounding, like he’s stifled it with a hand. “Actually, it might be worth losing my license for that. If you really want me to, just say the word.”

“I’ll let you know.”

There’s a few seconds where you can only hear each other breathing. It’s always a little bit weird, knowing he can see you when you can’t see him. You wonder, distantly, shamefully, if you look pretty. There’s no sense in asking Remus. You know what he’ll say.

“Can I touch you?’ he asks quietly.

“You’ve been touching me, Lupin.”

Another half-smothered chuckle. Remus’ hand rests delicately on the top of your head, his thumb stroking an upward path along your forehead. You hum in approval.

“If you go to sleep now,” he says softly, thumb lifting from your hand, “your headache might be gone when you wake up.”

You take a deep breath, gauging your own tiredness. You think you can do it.

“And so long as you sleep for more than an hour, I promise to get out of bed to get you more painkillers.”

“You’d better,” you mutter, and you can feel his smile against your skin when he leans down to kiss your cheek. “Hug me?”

You intend for it to sound light, almost like a joke, but the question comes out laden with all the neediness you’d hoped to hide. Remus doesn’t begrudge you, one arm needling under the small of your back while the other wraps across your ribcage. He scoots closer until your arm is pressed to his front.

“This okay?”

“Better than okay. Thanks, Rem.”

His lips brush delicately across your cheekbone, the soft bit of skin just next to your eye. “Don’t mention it.”

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svltzmans · 9 months

Text

closer - f.g.

warnings: 18+ smut, weed smoking, fiona and reader are both high but everything is 100000% consensual, they are also not in an established relationship, but they might be after this 🫢, i can't tell if this is bad or not :(

y/n stares intently as fiona lights a blunt, inhaling sharply and turning away to blow out the resulting smoke.

"want some?" fiona gestures to y/n, clearing her throat.

"i've never tried it. i kinda want to though," y/n responds tentatively, trying to gauge fiona's reaction.

y/n and fiona had been pretty close friends for a while, but y/n had never cared to try smoking, despite fiona's own interest in it.

"wait, this is your first time? am i about to take your weed virginity?" fiona laughs, inhaling more of the blunt.

"you'll have to teach me how, though," y/n laughs back, feeling clueless.

fiona inches closer to y/n, flicking her lighter.

she gingerly sets the blunt between y/n's lips, lighting it for her.

"now just take a deep breath in," fiona instructs, watching y/n's mouth closely.

y/n exhales and coughs, laughing at her own inexperience.

"there you go," fiona praises, sending a shiver down y/n's spine.

"so, what do we do now, truth or dare?" y/n jokes, feeling her body relax.

"yeah, that sounds mature," fiona teases.

"you go first. truth or dare?"

"truth, but this is dumb."

"have you ever had sex with a girl?"

fiona freezes momentarily. sexuality hadn't been a conversation between her and y/n before.

"uh, yeah," fiona mutters, eyes heavy as they analyze y/n's reaction.

"hmm. wouldn't have guessed," y/n laughs, feeling herself blush.

"what's that supposed to mean? have you?" fiona quips, laughing alongside y/n.

"of course i have, women are beautiful," y/n effortlessly responds, her nerves melting away.

"ain't that the truth."

fiona lights the blunt again, taking another sizeable hit.

"your turn. truth or dare, y/n?"

"truth."

"boring", fiona teases, earning a feigned look of disapproval from y/n.

when y/n makes eye contact with fiona, it feels like the world slows down. y/n isn't sure if it's the weed or her attraction to the woman in front of her.

"have you ever thought about having sex with me?"

fiona knows she's being bold, but she can't help herself. she wanted to know, the coil in her stomach growing at the thought of y/n seeing her in such a way.

y/n can't help but quietly laugh at the sudden twist in the conversation, but she knows she can't get out of answering the question.

"i don't know, maybe," y/n practically whispers, knowing that she had just practically admitted to her less-than-platonic thoughts about her friend.

the pair both giggle at y/n's response, unable to contain themselves. somehow, the situation didn't feel awkward.

"have you actually?" fiona questions after she manages to stop her laughter.

y/n simply nods, suddenly feeling her nerves twisting in her chest.

"'cause i think about eating you out all the time."

for a while, y/n just stares at fiona. she's awestruck by her confession, yet turned on by the thought of it.

"you in there, y/n?" fiona waves in front of y/n's face, trying to bring her out of her haze.

"can i kiss you?"

fiona doesn't even take the time to respond before pulling y/n in for a kiss.

she pulls y/n into her lap, intoxicated by the way her body feels in her hands.

y/n wraps her arms around fiona's neck, pulling her even closer.

fiona pulls away, throwing her head back to move her hair aside.

she gives y/n a gentle push, encouraging her to lay on her back.

"i'm gonna show you what i was thinking about. that okay?"

y/n frantically nods, anticipation building in every inch of her body.

fiona pulls y/n's pants down, discarding them across the room.

she can't help but stare at y/n's entire lower half, admiring how effortlessly beautiful she looked.

she rests on her stomach on the end of the bed, hovering over y/n's legs.

"you still okay?"

"never been better," y/n reassures, giving fiona the green light.

fiona plants a tentative kiss on y/n's thigh, earning a content hum.

she continues to pepper y/n's legs in kisses, making her way higher as she goes.

y/n felt like she must be in heaven.

admittedly, she had thought about this a lot.

"stop teasing me, fi," she mutters, feeling more desperate with every touch from fiona.

without a word, fiona kisses y/n's clit before moving her tongue, instantly making y/n's back arch.

"even sweeter than i thought you'd be," fiona coos, resting her hands on y/n's hips.

the speed of fiona's tongue makes y/n dizzy, a mix of the pleasure and her ongoing high bringing her to cloud nine.

she instinctively brings her hand to her mouth to keep quiet, which only gets harder with fiona's relentlessness.

fiona pulls away, staring into y/n's eyes.

"none of that. wanna hear how good this feels," she mutters against y/n before continuing as if she had never stopped.

y/n lets herself go then, letting moans and whines escape from her lips.

"so good, fi. feels so good," she manages to say, her hand laced in fiona's hair.

fiona feels like she might be enjoying herself even more than y/n is. she squeezes y/n's hips and pulls her even closer, although it doesn't feel close enough. fiona feels like she could never be too close to y/n, as if she was addicted to her.

"fiona, i'm- i think," y/n pauses, her speech being overtaken by an almost scream-like moan.

"there you go, pretty. let it all out," fiona coos, coaxing y/n through the intensity of her orgasm.

it takes y/n a minute to readjust, her breathing and heart finally slowing.

fiona pulls her into a hug, suddenly feeling softened by y/n's beauty.

"so, was it like you imagined?" y/n questions, unable to stop herself from giggling.

fiona laughs, breaking the embrace and looking at y/n.

"somehow even better."

a/n: this was a request but i can't find the ask now? either way thank you for the request :)

#fiona gallagher #fiona gallagher x fem! reader #fiona gallagher x fem reader #fiona gallagher x reader #fiona gallagher blurb #fiona gallagher drabble #fiona gallagher smut #fiona gallagher fic #shameless fic #shameless x reader #shameless

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soaplickerrr · 1 month

Text

Accidentally Coincidental

CHAPTER 6 (click pictures for better quality)

| ⇠ Previous | Next ⇢|

a/n: updates will be slow, i'm working on a pretty long fic on my side blog.

pairing: Idol!Kim Seungmin x Fem!CollegeStudent!Reader

genre: contemporary romance

SMAU

synopsis: Y/N, a regular college student accidentally texts Seungmin, a star in the K-pop group Stray Kids while trying to text her Ex, Soonyoung to come pick up his things, leading to an unexpected connection that blossoms into a heartfelt romance.

ignore time stamps, dates ( other than tge ones mentioned during texting) and typos

THERES A WRITTEN PART SO DONT JUST SCROLL THROUGH THE PICTURES🙏🙏

The meeting room at JYP Entertainment was filled with a palpable tension as the key players gathered around the large, polished table. The CEO sat at the head, flanked by the editing team manager and Bang Chan's own manager. The atmosphere was serious, almost formal, as everyone waited for Bang Chan to speak.

Chan cleared his throat, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced by a more focused, determined air. He knew this wasn’t just any conversation—this was about convincing the higher-ups to take a chance on someone they’d never even met.

“Thank you all for taking the time to meet today,” Chan began, his voice steady and professional. “I want to talk about an opportunity that could benefit both our company and someone outside of it. I’ve recently heard about someone who has a passion for editing, specifically in the realm of music videos. Given that we’re currently short-staffed in the editing department, I think we should seriously consider giving this person a chance.”

The CEO raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical but willing to listen. “And who exactly is this person? Do they have experience in the industry?”

Chan nodded. “She’s not a seasoned professional, but she has talent and a genuine love for the craft. What I’m proposing isn’t an immediate hire. Instead, I suggest we put her through a rigorous test—a project that would allow us to gauge her skills. If she passes, we hire her. If she doesn’t, we look elsewhere. It’s a win-win situation. We get to explore potential new talent without committing prematurely.”

The editing team manager leaned forward, interested but cautious. “What kind of test are you thinking? We can’t afford to waste time on someone who might not be up to par.”

“That’s exactly why I’m proposing a test,” Chan explained. “We can assign her a project—something that’s demanding but realistic. She can work on a segment of an upcoming music video or even a practice reel. We give her a deadline, clear guidelines, and see how she performs under pressure. It’s a controlled environment where we get to see what she’s really capable of.”

The CEO interjected, his tone still carrying a hint of doubt. “And what makes you so confident in this person? We’ve had people with potential come through before, only to realize they weren’t cut out for the pace and demands of this industry.”

Chan met the CEO’s gaze steadily. “I’m confident because I’ve seen her work. More than that, I’ve seen her passion. This isn’t just about filling a role—it’s about bringing in someone who genuinely cares about what they do. Someone who sees the art in editing, who understands the nuances of our music and visuals. I believe she has what it takes, but I’m not asking you to take my word for it. That’s why I’m proposing the test. Let her work speak for itself.”

There was a moment of silence as the CEO considered Chan’s words. The room was thick with anticipation, everyone waiting to see which way the decision would go.

The CEO finally nodded, a small but decisive gesture. “Alright, Chan. You’ve made a compelling case. We’ll arrange the test. If she meets our standards, we’ll consider bringing her on board. But I want to be clear—this is a one-shot deal. If she doesn’t impress, we move on.”

Chan smiled, relieved but still composed. “Understood. I’ll work with the editing team to get everything set up.”

The meeting wrapped up soon after, with everyone agreeing on the next steps. As the others filed out of the room, Chan stayed behind for a moment, letting the success of the conversation sink in. He had done it—he had convinced them to give her a chance. Now, it was up to her to prove herself.

Once he was alone, Chan couldn’t contain his excitement any longer. He quickly pulled out his phone and sent Seungmin a message, his fingers moving swiftly across the screen.

Seungmin’s POV

Seungmin stared at his phone in disbelief, a grin slowly spreading across his face as he realized what this meant. He quickly composed a message to Y/N, his heart racing with excitement.

Your POV

Seungmin put his phone down, unable to wipe the grin off his face. He couldn’t wait to see how this would all unfold. For now, he just hoped that Y/N was ready for what was coming her way.

———

Seungmin’s POV:

BONUS:

I dont like this chapter and college sucks.

😃👍

TAGLIST - CLOSED - if your name is in pink, I couldn’t tag you

@disasterousdangerousbi @akitfffr @alexateurmom @jeonginplsholdmyhand @sunarins-whore @feelikecinderella @minniesuperversee @istglevi-gotmesimping @dreamerwasfound @whiteghostt @your-favorite-pirate @pnutbutter-n-j-elyy @chuuyaobsessed @ihrtlix @onlyhyunjin @jisuperboard @dazzlingjade @sellomaybe @lixiesbrownies333 @kkamismom12 @iatemycatfreckles @puppyminnnie @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @ayyonoona @missvanjii @jc003 @dontwannaexsist @everglowdaisies

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solarmorrigan · 22 days

Text

🪱Wiggly Worm Wednesday🪱

I was tagged last week by @devondespresso! Thank you <3

I've mostly been working on prompt fills for Steddie Spooktober, and that's taken up pretty much my whole entire brain, but in the spaces in between, I've been thinking about autistic!Steve

See, Steve sort of "lucks out" in that his special interests fall under what's considered acceptable for a boy to be interested in. He loves sports. He loves cars. He loves learning everything about them - about statistics, about the players, about how engines work, about all the different makes and models there are. He just... has to learn not to talk about these things so much, after a while. Or maybe not talk about them at all, because he thinks they're fascinating, but other people - maybe not so much, and he's bad at gauging when people have lost interest until they're telling him to just shut up already

But he learns

And stimming? Well, it turns out that exercising and playing sports are the perfect, full-body stims for Steve. Things like rocking and flapping his hands and wiggling in place? Not acceptable. Things like going for a jog, swimming laps, shooting basketballs again and again and again until he's perfected his technique? Great; encouraged, even. And for the times when he can't exactly go for a run or start doing sit-ups, he finds something to fidget with; he learns how to spin and twirl pretty much anything he can get his hands on (anything to keep him from doing those socially unacceptable things)

Emotions are harder. When he's a kid, and the world is too loud too close too much and he hasn't learned how to handle it yet, when he has meltdowns, he gets written off as a spoiled brat, crying because he hasn't gotten his way. That's no good, so Steve learns how to internalize it; when things get to be too much, he's likelier to withdraw and shut down. Outsized emotional reactions aren't cool, and they make the other kids pull away from him, so he swerves towards the other end of the spectrum and expresses very little. Being aloof, it turns out, is considered cool, so Steve keeps it up

So he's out there masking so hard that the thing is practically glued to his face when he falls in love with Nancy Wheeler. Nancy, who isn't impressed by his cool facade or by how well he can play basket ball or by who he's friends with, but who seems to like him when he's being a goof, when he lets tiny slivers of himself out

So he lets a little more out. Nancy likes it, likes him, and it makes him feel safe

It doesn't work out, of course - of course. Steve should have known better. No one likes it when he lets all his shit out. He's halfway through duct taping his mask back on when Dustin happens. The kid works his way into the cracks, widens them, makes himself at home there, encourages Steve to be loud and weird if he wants to - all of Dustin's other friends are, and they seem... happy for it

Maybe Steve can be happy that way, too

Maybe he can watch movies he used to consider himself too cool for and come up with a secret handshake that he practices the motions for over and over again because it's fun. Maybe when he and Robin become friends, he can listen to her infodump about foreign languages, and then he can tell her all about sports statistics without worrying that she's going to tell him to shut up. Maybe he can talk to Eddie about cars and learn about them from a new perspective, and he can soak the information up and never wonder if Eddie is getting sick of talking to him. Maybe, with time and distance, he can realize that he and Nancy just hadn't been what the other needed, that she had never hated him, and he can be a goof around her again, and they can make each other smile

Maybe, bit by bit, Steve learns that he doesn't have to cut himself into small pieces in order to be loved, and he thrives

Gently tagging @paperbackribs, @estrellami-1, @momotonescreaming, tag-back for @devondespresso, aaaand hell, anyone else who wants to talk about their brainworms. Tag me and show me, I love hearing about people's ideas c:

#steve harrington #autistic steve harrington #wiggly wednesday #stranger things #solar wrote #long post

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bigtreefest · 3 months

Text

Essie’s Summer Lovin’ 300 Follower Celebration!!

I can’t believe it, but I’ve hit 300 followers! Thank you so much for everyone who has helped me get here and all the encouragement and love you’ve shown me. You have no idea how much it means💗 *please excuse the terrible graphic that I made on my lunch break. I tried, I swear. 🥳🥳🥳🥳🤷🏻‍♀️

For the occasion, I’m hosting a writing event! I’d love for you, yes you! to join in the celebration!! I know what you’re thinking: ‘well Essie, how do I do that?’ Let me tell you!!

Gather up all the sweet, summer vibes you can muster, along with one or multiple of the prompts listed below, and write a fic! Prompts and rules below!

Prompts:

*feel free to adjust them accordingly to work better in your fic

- pick your favorite summer song and use it to inspire your fic (optional, and very much not necessary, but encouraged. I love the songs of summer)

Scenarios:

- a character gets a sunburn

- someone lost their bathing suit in the ocean/pool

- a popsicle dripping down someone’s skin

- sand. Sand everywhere.

- beach games got a little too rough

- reading and someone gets the book wet

- putting a flower behind their ear

- babe is a surfer

- watching a sunrise/sunset together

- a long drive together

- putting sunscreen on one another

- rain spoils your summer outdoor plans

- bonfire

- catching fireflies

Quotes:

- “it hurts when I _____” “then stop doing that”

- “I wore this purposely because I thought the tan line would drive you crazy.”

- “what do you mean you didn’t pack snacks?”

- “here, you can share with me”

- “aw man, that was the last one”

- “I’ve got something else you can lick”

- “ew, gross. That’s not what I thought would happen today”

- “who thought a place with mosquitoes was a good idea?”

- “yeah. I know” “I didn’t mean I was hot in that way”

- “you know that one’s my favorite”

- “we’re not supposed to be in here” / “not here”

- “why’s it…sticky?”

Kinks:

- praise

- size

- daddy

- equal partnership? That’s my kink.

- breeding

- oooo! hand

- public sex/trying not to get caught

- overstimulation

Tropes:

- friends to lovers

- enemies to lovers

- hurt/comfort

- last summer together before going separate ways🥺

- vacation fling cut short by having to go home

Environments:

- beach

- pool

- lake house

- ice cream shop/stand

- inside in the ac

- a bar

- resort/hotel

- out on the water/ in a boat

Rules/How to Play:

- Character/love interest must be a CE babe/Bucky (no other Seb babes, however you may be able to make a case for boedecker or destroyer Chris)

- No deeply dark themes, including noncon, murder and death, toilet stuff, incest, or anything you think would be too intense for my poor heart. Dubcon, stepcest, and soft!dark are allowable if you just keep it light and find it necessary, but use your discretion please

- Posts should be at least 300 words, with no upper limit! Please us a ‘read more’ past 150

- fics should be stand-alone. If they are part of a series, they should be able to be read alone.

- tag me @bigtreefest and put the tags #essie’s summer lovin’ 300 follower celebration #summer lovin’ celebration and #essie’s 300 follower special so I can reblog you and add your fic to the Masterlist!!

- be inclusive and considerate!!

- make/write as many posts as you’d like!

- this will run from Sunday, July 13 to Wednesday, July 31, 2024. Late entries will be accepted through the end of summer.

- happy writing and thank you for celebrating with me!!

Tagging those who interacted with my post gauging interest, but all are welcome to join!!

@stargazingfangirl18 @krirebr @ronearoundblindly @witchywithwhiskey @thezombieprostitute @darsynia @jesevans @navybrat817 @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @universitypenguin @gone-to-fight-the-fairies @delicatebarness @biteofcherry @dreamtinblackandwhite @levans44

#Essie’s summer lovin’ 300 follower celebration #summer lovin’ celebration #Essie’s 300 follower special #CE characters #Seb characters #Chris Evans #Sebastian Stan #300 followers #300 follower challenge #300 follower celebration

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starhvney · 6 months

Text

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: mystreet laurance x fem!reader

𝐂𝐖: none!

𝐀/𝐍: i remember being so upset when he stopped showing up in videos

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, how does he show his affection?

he’s the type to show his love for you through actions and not words. he’s always listening even if you think he isn’t, noting down the things you like and dislike. he’s also big on acts of service, both giving and receiving. he’ll put his jacket on you if he notices you shiver, hand you a water if he notices you haven’t been drinking any. doesn’t mind if you don’t return it as much, because he also loves the physical touch and flirting banter.

𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘, what does he find the most beautiful about you?

your eyes. even if you’re not looking at him, he’s looking at your eyes. he watches how they light up when you’re excited, or how they dilate when you’re focused on something. he uses them to gauge how you’re feeling too, looking into them when he thinks you might be upset about something.

𝐂𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒, how cuddly is he? how does he cuddle with you?

he’s not super clingy, but he can be. he’s sort of like a cat. he likes when you two have your own space, but if he wants to cuddle with you, he will literally crawl on top of you. likes to rest his head on your chest and listen to your heartbeat, or lay you on top of him.

𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂, what is domestic life like with him?

he’s husband material, to be honest. he likes to keep his space pretty clean, has a generally good sense of aesthetics, and is a super good cook. one day out every week or two when you both have free time is spent working together to split up chores evenly and then have a really nice home cooked meal together. he also likes to spend time in the same room together even if you’re doing different things.

𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, how vulnerable with his emotions is he with you?

he’s really good about letting you know if he’s feeling positive and happy, but sometimes he’ll bottle up his emotions until he gets riled up and lets it out. he never takes it out directly on you, and always feels bad afterward. you have to sometimes pry how he’s feeling out of him, but he definitely doesn’t expect you to do it every time and baby him. he works on it and eventually gets more comfortable at opening up to you the more your relationship grows.

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘, does he want a family with you in the future?

he definitely wants to spend time together as a couple and make sure you two are stable and in the right headspace to have a kid. he wants kids of his own for sure, i think to heal a part of him since he was adopted. if you don’t want kids though, he won’t pressure you. at the very least he wants to adopt one day.

𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐒, is he a gift giver? what kind of gifts does he give to you?

he’s the type to give you flowers on special dates, but not just valentine’s day. if it’s your birthday, anniversary, you achieved something you’re proud of, or you two just decided to go on a fancy date, he’s getting you flowers. he also pays attention to your style, and if he sees a piece of jewelry or clothing that he thinks you’ll like

𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐒, what is hugging him like?

he’s either super playful or super loving depending on the mood. sometimes he’ll grab your hand and spin you around before wrapping you in his arms, or he’ll hug you tightly to him and dip you down while giggling the whole time. if it’s a hug to comfort you or him he’ll hold you tightly and either bury his head into your neck or tuck yours under his chin.

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒, what is he insecure about in your relationship?

since he is so observant, he can catch himself sometimes overanalyzing or misreading small details and feeling like you’re upset with him or are losing interest. at first, he wouldn’t tell you, but once you caught on and had a good heart-to-heart with him, he gets better at talking himself out of feeling that way.

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘, how jealous does he get?

when he was younger, he got jealous and even possessive much easier, but as he got older, mellowed out, and matured he got a better reign on it. if he ever gets jealous, he usually realizes he’s reading too much into it and being a little silly. he never takes it out on you or blames you like he would’ve as a stupid teenage boy, but he might be a little obvious about it. he’ll get super clingy to you if he’s feeling jealous or upset and will whisk you away to cuddle or make out.

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆, what is kissing him like?

his kisses are slow and kind of teasing for the most part. sometimes he’ll pull away like he was done before tugging you back for more. if you two had an argument or he’s upset about something, he’ll get a lot more passionate.

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, who said “i love you” first?

it was him. he was surprisingly kind of nervous and shy about it the first time? he stuttered a few times and took a little to get to the point but he eventually told you and was super sweet about it. he gave you flowers and didn’t pressure you into saying it back, he just really wanted to let you know.

𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐓, who gets shy or weak in the knees more?

his goal is to constantly fluster you and make you shy, so most of the time, it’s gonna be you. whispered sweet nothings, quick kisses, and fleeting touches are all part of the package. sometimes, though, you can say or do something that completely catches him off guard. his cheeks will go completely red as he tries to come up with a comeback to no avail.

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄, does he use any pet names for you?

uses a few different ones, but really likes to add “my” in front of it. he uses it in front of your name mostly, a little grin on his face every time he says it. he likes using cutie, but sometimes he’ll call you honey bunchkins or schnookims in a stupid sweet tone just because he thinks your cringing face is funny.

𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐒, what are some issues you have in your relationship? how does he handle it?

at the beginning, you both struggled with jealousy and keeping issues to yourselves until it overflowed into an argument. after that, he really makes it a point to communicate with you more about how he’s feeling

𝐏𝐃𝐀, how does he express his love in public?

surprisingly not super big on pda, just because he likes to keep that side of the two of you special and between the two of you. he’ll stay close enough to you that people know you’re dating, though. also isn’t afraid of holding or kissing your hands, or guiding you with a hand to your lower back.

𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄, how do you spend your time together?

it’s very domestic. you two spend time either relaxing at home and watching a movie or just enjoying each other’s presence. if you’re crafty he likes to do little art projects with you, too. if you both feel like getting out, you go on cute dinner or cafe dates, or go to a theater, or find a new cool niche hang out spot together.

𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆, what are his plans for the future?

he knows you’re the one. he had a streak when he was younger of being flirtatious, but if he is dating you, it means he fully intends to marry you some time in the future. he surprisingly isn’t one to rush it though. he wants to take it slow and really enjoy getting to know everything about each other before he pops the question. when he does, he’s a really great husband.

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒, how open is he? does he keep anything from you?

he’ll keep a few things to himself, but nothing that’s super important. like, he’s pretty big on surprises and will hide little things from you that won’t spoil it.

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄, how long did it take for you two to get together?

it was kind of quick, but a healthy amount. it certainly wasn’t rushed, but as soon as he realized he liked you he spent a lot of time to make sure you were comfortable and liked him back, and confessed.

𝐔𝐏𝐒𝐄𝐓, what makes him upset?

he can get a little rolled up over a lot of different things, but one thing he gets genuinely upset over is when he feels like you’re being disrespected in some way. whether it’s you talking down on yourself or some creep making you uncomfortable, he’s gonna have some words to say. (of course, the words spoken to you will be much more gentle)

𝐕𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐘, does he do anything to spice up your relationship?

he likes to spice it up (literally) by trying new recipes and foods together. if he’s not attempting something new for you to try at home, then sometimes he’ll even drive you on a trip just to try a specific restaurant. sometimes it’ll even be far enough that he’ll plan other activities around it and make it a vacation.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒, how good is he at communicating?

he struggles sometimes with talking about really personal negative emotions, but he’s super obvious with his tells when he’s upset. usually, if you ask him, he cracks and tells you right away. he just feels a bit awkward saying anything out of the blue, so he’ll wait for you to bring it up. he gets better at opening up after a few good talks with you.

𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀, something random

he has a camera album full of pictures of you, both ones you were aware and not aware that he took. not only does it have you in it though, but pictures of things you said you liked or screenshots of things you wanted. if you also were to snoop around some of his things, you’d find a little notebook of little doodles and notes about you.

𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆, what are they like when you’re gone?

he’s super dramatic when you have to leave for a long time, but he can function without you. he’s someone who thinks a healthy amount of space is important. of course, he wants to be around you all the time, that’s a given, but he can still function. if it’s longer than a week though… he might not as easygoing about it. he’s part of the sassy man apocalypse, so expect a lot of sass and sarcasm if you don’t jump into his arms when you see each other again.

𝐙𝐙𝐙..., how do you two sleep? when you’re apart?

it’s the same way that you two cuddle. one of you is fully or halfway lying on the other. however, throughout the night, whether it’s him or you that gets sweaty or hot (it’s usually him), you two end up back on your own sides of the bed. when you’re apart he’s definitely not too happy about it, but he manages to sleep okay. he’ll complain and tease you saying he had the worst sleep of his life though, just to be dramatic.

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

#aphmau mystreet #aphmau #mystreet x reader #x reader #mystreet #laurance zvhal #aphmau laurance #laurance zvhal x reader #mystreet laurance #laurance x reader

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doodlegirl1998 · 1 month

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You know what's really funny to me? The trope of Bakugou in canon being super talented at everything that he does. In canon it's supposed to be for laughs when he's good at random shit, but I don't understand how it's supposed to be funny when the funnier route would have been that this guy has dedicated himself to nothing else but being extremely good at fighting with his quirk and to be a hero that he's actually super ass at everything else. But I guess having a complex version of Bakugou where he learns that there's more to life than heroics and maybe is way less of a demon isn't something that would have been interesting. ALSO ALSO, genuinely I'm confused as to why people think Bakugou is super smart. Like I get that he was excelling at school and was taking mock UA tests and shit, blah blah blah, but:

A) I can totally see his marks getting doctered by Aldera

B) Passing the UA exam doesn't tell me shit about his intelligence, since people who are "dumber" (Kaminari and Ashido) than him also passed the same exam. Without even knowing the proper format of the test (keeping in mind it's also a standardized test) there's no real way to gauge how "intelligent" someone has to be to do well. Also there's a bunch of General-Ed students who passed that test so again, doesn't tell me much.

C) For all the praise that he receives, there's nothing really like "intelligent" or complex about the plans that Bakugou comes up with when people suck him off for being such a good tactician. He fully somehow thought he could overwhelm fucking ALL-MIGHT with his explosions alone, if he's such a good tactician why would he all of a sudden fuck this up? Also, his "counter" to Uraraka's plan was just do bigger explosions, so again, nothing to do with his actual intellect, it's just his quirk. Which brings me to,

D) Bakugou fully should have been taken out by Uraraka's plan. I get that she was tanking hits and he wasn't, but he suffers no backlash at all from unleashing his quirk all day, and is even able to fire off massive explosions no problem. I don't care what bullshit excuse Horikoshi or the fandom comes up with, unless Bakugou has a second quirk that makes him indestructible or lets him cancel out forces, those massive explosions would have shattered his arms and legs from the recoil. But nooooooo, Todoroki suffers from acute frosbite and Midoriya shatters himself when he uses OfA. But Bakugou? Ah well, sometimes we'll remember that he's running out of sweat or his wrists will hurt a little or sumthin.

E) Why is Bakugou (and I guess Kirishima by extension as well) more ripped and buff then Midoriya when canonically somehow managed to balance a fucking small pick up truck on the last pile of garbage that he stood on when he cleared the beach. Midoriya should be jacked and stacked like Jotaro fucking Kujo in part 3 and be an immovable object, yet some how Bakugou is shown to be physically stronger than him??? Midoriya should be casually lifting couches with the entire class sitting on it so he can vaccum underneath.

PS. I think it would've been exponentially better to have IZUKU be the one who is good and talented at random shit. Like the kid who didn't have the one thing that is required of all heroes (a quirk) and tries to overcompensate for his "uselessness" by being insanely talented and skilled at tons of different hobbies would have been an awesome angle, he's genius enough to pull it off. Not only would it give us more insight on his life before All Might, but it would also make Bakugou less of a Mary Sue (seriously, the narrative bends over backwards for him) and Izuku less of an untalented loser (again, the narrative loves shitting on him, sweet Jesus). Having Bakugou be terrible at everything besides heroics and Izuku being good at everything "besides heroics" might've made for an interesting character parallel that Hori insists on shoving down our throats for 400 chapters straight 😒

Hi @stormiclown 👋

💯. I completely agree with this.

Bakugou being ass at everything that doesn't involve his quirk would have been much funnier, and it would have made more sense narratively for the reasons you listed.

In a good story, that fact would have also forced Bakugou to grow and realise that in UA, he's no longer a big fish in a small pond - he's just one of many talented children.

As you rightfully pointed out, it would have made much more narrative sense for IZUKU to be the ripped one, to be the talented and intelligent one. He would have felt like he would have had to prove he wasn't useless growing up, so it would have made more sense for Izuku to have dozens of hidden (and developed - where did Izuku's quirk analysis go?!) talents.

Then, for Izuku to feel jarred by the amount of praise and appreciation he is getting now, he isn't "useless quirkless Deku" that he felt like he was at Aldera. Then for Izuku to flourish and grow as a result.

#mha critical #bnha critical #anti bakugou #anti bakugou katsuki #izuku deserves better

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simplepotatofarmer · 3 months

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Personally, the stream where Tommy is hiding in Techno’s house is really the perfect example of their friendship. The constant teasing and Dream frustration but also like trying (and failing) not to laugh at some points. The fact that Techno just commits to the bit in the moment. Like Dream is coming in to try and convince Techno to give Tommy up, maybe use a little—just a tiny bit of—manipulation and extortion for it, and Techno just… ignoring it. Just like “cool story bruh, anyways give me a sec, Chat is giving me money” while Dream just fumbles. Also the way Techno can just knock Dream completely off his game and have him screaming “I HAVE A HOUSE” when he’s trying to be all imposing and mysterious.

The prison podcast is a close second only because of the magnitude of horror so subtly implied beneath all the jokes Techno throws at Dream. As if he’s trying to gauge just how bad it’s been and trying to relieve some of the awkward and scary moments.

Their entire dynamic easily makes me laugh and mourn at the same time.

yes!

i think it's very telling how quickly c!dream commits to the bit of being homeless and building a house. it's pointless, there's no reason for it. at this point, dream is already deeply Not Okay, nothing is normal for him. and he stops, literally in the middle of something important to his plan, to play into techno's bit about him being homeless to a pretty intense degree! he's literally building a house!

there's something about how willing dream is to play along when it comes to techno's shenanigans, how he absolutely does fumble and get flustered over the whole thing, how much he laughs about being relentlessly mocked, y'know?

then, during the prison, it seems like techno is a bit out of his depth, knowing dream isn't okay, and is scrambling for that same dynamic again, to get dream laughing and fake annoyed and calling him an idiot. he absolutely is trying to gauge it, trying to make things a bit better, but it's really bad! it's interesting to see.

'laugh and mourn at the same time' is a really good way of putting it.

if things were just a little different for them then. who knows.

#loyal answers things #c!techno #c!dream #rivals duo #rivalsblr #dreblr

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laroserie · 8 months

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— characters : Alastor, + the hotels residents (vague mention - expect for Charlie)

— content : x gender neutral reader - reader is a baker, reader is naive (for a sinner), Alastor manipulate reader into coming to the hotel, Alastor is Alastor but he's also OOC (kinda but uh who write canon Alastor anyways)

— author note : this is the second part of an (potentially yandere!) alastor x baker reader - the first part is here (also the words count is : 1.7k ) (saying that because i outdid myself lol) (also yes i know Alastor canonically do not like tea idc this mf is gonna drink tea) ++ honestly considering doing a third part because I have so much more to say and write about this

After Alastor came back from his seven years hiatus and he came for at your bakery again, he could come so often, like once every two days.

But it could take him a while to make a 'move', try to get closer to you or talk to you about the hotel but one day, he comes to your bakery and asks for an unusual amount of pastries. You don't comment on it as it's not your place - you are just a simple baker ! But you can't help but raise an eyebrow.

Alastor meant to talk to you about the hotel, not because he wanted you to reedem yourself or because he wanted to do it for Charlie - well maybe a little but he won't admit it - but more or less to keep an eye on you. By then, he isn't sure as to why he wants to keep an eye on you - his assumption is that he feels the same way toward you as he does toward Rosie. He sees you as a friend but not quite - you are the sweet baker who makes quite good pastries and you are by far one of the less annoying sinners he ever spoke to. But he feels some kind of protectiveness over you - probably because he sees you as quite meek and weak.

So obvious what could be better than inviting you to stay at the hotel ? A place where he can both protect and keep on eye on you at -nearly- all time.

Alastor took this opportunity, 'These aren't all for me, dear. They are for ... my friends ?' he started while you were wrapping up what he purchased, 'You see ... Have you heard of the Hazbin Hotel ?' he asks.

'Uhm ... The hotel run by the princess ? Yeah I've seen a bit of talk about it, why ?'

'Well ! I am the facility manager of that, hotel ! And the ... pastries are for my fellows workers and residents.' He stopped for a second to gauge your reaction to that information - which was a simple nod and a 'ohh' - he continued. 'Hm, the goal of the hotel is to help sinners redeem themselves ... could you be by chance interested ?'

This question probably takes you by surprise. By then you already finished packing Alastor order - you push it toward him on the counter. You respond hesitantly 'Ha, well ... Is it possible ? To even redeem yourself ... ?' Your smile falter a bit and you look in the void for a bit. 'I don't think redemption is for me ... If I'm here it mean I deserve it and that it's already too late ...' Alastor didn't fully expect you to react like this - he did expect that you could say 'no' at first but not that.

'But ! Anyways, there is your order, enjoy !' You said trying to end the conversation there. But alas Alastor was not the type to give up so easily.

He took his order but continued on, 'If you couldn't mind dear, please just come and visit once, to be truthful, we haven't had a whole lot of sinners coming, you just simply visiting could be wonderful, and you could help bring Charlie mood up, oh and you both could get along so well !' As he finished his sentence he turned and walked toward the door and threw you a 'Goodbye!'.

Alastor knew you enough to know that he could pull at your heart strings to get what he wanted - you were always the sensitive type, the type to care even about strangers. He was sure that he could see you 'visit' in the near future.

And well he was right ! A mere three days after you found yourself at the doorstep of the hotel. You had been waiting for a few minutes already - you were still debating on entering or just turning on your hells and going back home.

But before you could do anything the hotel door in front of you opened in a big 'slam'. And once again before you could do anything, you were dragged into the hotel in a very enthusiastic manner.

'Hello !! Are you interested in the hotel ?' A cheerful voice asked you, as she dragged you into the hall, you recognised quite easily who is was - the owner of the hotel - Charlie Morningstar. It wasn't your first time seeing her, but it was your first time seeing her up close. You had to restrain a laugh at her over-enthusiasm, you didn't want be irrespectful toward the princess of hell.

'Good morning, I am simply visiting as it was recommended by ... a friend of mine.' You saw her be a bit disappointed hearing that. 'Oh. Is there anyways you could I don't know change your mind ? Maaaaybe ?' She asked.

You a small smile appeared on your face 'Maybe. If your convincing is good enough.'

Charlie took it as a challenge, she started by showing you around the hotel, and then made you meet the residents - you spoke a bit with everyone - at the exception of Alastor how was visiting his friend in Cannibal Town. To say you were surprised knowing that the two sole residents of the hotel were one of the biggest pornstar of hell and somekind of mad inventor could be an understatement. The staff of the hotel was also something - you knew already Niffty and Husk having heard about them from Alastor and you saw and spoke with Husk a few times when he picked up orders at your bakery for Alastor. And then there was Vaggie, she seemed to be quite suspicious of you and it feel like she could gut you out as soon as you do something wrong.

By the end of the day, Charlie asked you once again if you wanted to join the hotel - you struggled to answer her - a part of you seriously started to consider joining the hotel and trying to get redeem but the other one was still wary of the idea.

But you asked her if you could come every once in a while to visit and she was overjoyed by it - you didn't join the hotel but it was still an advances to have someone visit the hotel.

You did end up visiting the hotel a lot - at some point you could come once a week - you ended up befriending most people from the hotel.

One of those day, most of the hotel residents were out - only Alastor and Niffty were at the hotel. Niffty was running around chasing cockroachs - you were having tea with Alastor.

Alastor had finally decided to move to the next steps of his plan - to have you under his grip. He started by asking you a few questions about how you felt about the hotel.

'I told you, you could get along with Charlie !' You nodded as you sipped on a cup of tea. 'Are you thinking of joining the hotel officially ?' You sighed and shake your head, 'Alastor, you already know my answer ...'

'Are you sure dear ? I truly think it could be beneficial for you to join.' He persisted. 'But, I have a bakery to run, I, I have responsibility.'

'You can continue to run your bakery while being a resident here darling ! Honestly, why don't you want to ? Please don't tell me you seriously believe you cannot be redeem, we all know that it's not true. You by far one of the most ... redeemable sinner there is' Alastor tone of voice was serious - the atmosphere shifted and suddenly the way you were sitting became uncomfortable. 'Alastor please ... Don't.' You managed to utter, your looked down at the cup between your hands.

'What, I am simply saying the truth. I am just asking you to enlighten me as to why you don't think you should at least try to redeem yourself and join heaven.' You looked up to see Alastor with his usual smile plastered on his face - it felt wrong, you felt yourself crack. 'There is no real reasons to be frank, I just know that it's not possible, that it's not right ...'

Alastor shacks his head, 'If you don't do it for yourself please do it for Charlie, you both are dear friends now right ? Couldn't you like to make her happy by becoming a resident and attempting to cleanse yourself of your sins ? Ah, it could even make me happy ...' He pulled out the last card in his deck - once again he knew that playing with your feelings could be the easiest way to get you to stay - and so he did.

He could see you hesitate a bit, 'Are you sure ...? What if she learn that I don't believe in it truly ? I do not wish to be hypocritical ... isn't that a sin itself ?' Alastor laughed a little hearing you, 'You shouldn't worry about that darling. The important thing is the end result - not how you got it. Who cares if you aren't honest ? And if it's stay between the two of us, Charlie will never know.' You took a few minutes to think - weighting the pros and cons.

You sighed and nodded your head, 'Sure, I mean what could go wrong ... ha.'. Alastor smiles 'Exactly dear !', he took a sip of tea, 'Now, shall we do the paperwork now ?', he didn't wait for an answer and just pulled out a stack of papers and a pen out of Satan know here and slided them toward you.

You didn't brother to question him and just took the pen in hand, 'Do I really need to read all of that ?' you said pointing to the small toward of papers in front of you, 'Oh of course no, it's just good 'ol paperwork, you don't need to read anything ! Just sign the bottom of each pages and ... we should be good.' you probably didn't notice the way his smiles twisted as he uttered those words or if you did you just preferred to not question it.

Looking back you probably should have - it could have saved you from the collar and leash attached to your neck and the overall pain that was having your soul being owned by Alastor - with the added layer of being a full time resident of the hotel.

#a magic piece ?#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #alastor headcanons #hazbin headcanons #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #hazbin x you #alastor smut #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor

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bump1nthen1ght · 5 months

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Across a Crowded Room (GN!Reader x M!Goblin)

Pairing: Flirty!GN!Reader x Male!Knight!Goblin

Genre: High Fantasy, Flirting, Sexual Tension

Word Count: 2576 words

Summary: You had entered the tavern with innocent intentions; to dance, to drink, and maybe take someone home, if they were interesting enough. But a certain goblin knight catches your eye, and you’re just dying to see him blush.

Request: Can I ask for your goblin knight x flirty reader? I want to see my boy blushing

If you want to read more about the goblin knight, check out here (SFW Headcanons) and here! (NSFW Headcanons)

No one throws better parties than knights, especially knights just fresh from a victory.

The clamering group came into your town just this afternoon, blood-soaked and smiling, shouting about free rounds at the local tavern. For a boring town just a couple miles from a well protected capital city, it was the most exciting thing to happen in months. Naturally, anyone and everyone who loves some good fun and alcohol was quick to congregate.

Including yourself.

The tavern is packed, sweaty bodies and beer all clashing together as people dance and drink, the band playing to rapturous applause and intoxicated cheers. Soldiers have stripped most of their armor, surrounded by groups of desperate hangers-ons, here for the fascinating tales or to catch the eye of a handsome knight.

You’re more interested in the free alcohol and the music, but you can’t deny that these soldiers are good-looking. Would it be bad to have those calloused hands pushing up your shirt, salty lips sucking on your neck, all pent up and ravenous from weeks on the road?

Damn, maybe you’ve had enough to drink.

You drop off your half-empty ale and pick up a fresh cup of water instead, thankful for the magical ice chest the tavern owner had just purchased/stolen off a drunken wizard. Your cheeks are still hot, but any dizzying fog fades quickly from your mind. Your eyes wander around the dance floor, wondering if anyones sober enough to be a good dance partner, or if it’s time to call it a night. Everyone seems to be partnered up already, and you think you’ll be walking home alone in the dark, when-

Bingo.

There in a corner booth, surprisingly free of drunken party-goers, sits a goblin knight in gleaming armor. His bulkier pauldrons have been removed, but his chest plate remains shiny and in place. He sips on something bubbly, something light and clearly not the hearty ale everyone else is indulging in. Yellow eyes survey the dance floor with a clear mind, a reserved smile on his face.

Welp, guess I can stay another hour or so.

You slink between dancing and flailing bodies, trying not to seem too eager as you make your way to the lonely knight’s table. He only glances up once you sit down in his booth, giving you a polite smile, probably thinking you just need to rest your feet.

Now that you’re up close you can see just how handsome he is. With that sharp jaw and slicked back hair, you’re surprised he isn’t fighting off propositioners with a stick.

“Hey there.”

“Hello.” The goblin gives you a nod, taking another sip of his prosecco. His eyes go back to the dance floor, still calm and casual. You slide across the booth seat, closer yet not to close, still trying to gauge interest.

“Not much of a dancer?”

The knight seems a little shocked you’re still talking to him, stopped half-way through another sip. He sets it down.

“I enjoy it, though I have less experience in this sort of dancing.” He waves his hand generally to the crowd, which are less dancing and more bouncing. The tavern is too crowded for any proper dances, so most people divulged into a mixture of shimmying and skirt tossing, often grinding someone to slide up next to and go back and forth. “Plus, my men are having a lot of fun already, it seems someone should stay behind and be responsible.”

“You’re the captain?” You slide another inch over. “That’s a hefty title, lots of hard work, sounds like you deserve most to let loose and relax a little.” You’re even more shocked now that he’s all by his lonesome; the captain is the one with most of the glory and prestige, someone you’d be proud to be on the arm of, even for just a night. The knight just laughs, gesturing to his drink.

“I appreciate it, but the wine has proven to be good company. Besides, I was never one to find getting into a drunken stupor to be very relaxing. A little too much vomit for my taste.” The knight runs a clawed hair through his slicked back hair, tucking back any loose strands. It shows off the strong muscles of his neck, just hidden behind his armor. You take an intake of breath.

“I see, I see. Are they any other ways you like to relax?” You finally close the gap between, the fabric of your pants legs touching his own, and throw your arm over the back of the booth. His tail twitches and his eyes glance down to your chest, clavicle exposed by your loose tunic. But this knight is a gentleman, and is quick to meet your eyes.

“I garden. Nothing too exciting, just some vegetables.”

“Really?” The curiosity in your voice is genuine, not the kind you force to keep the conversation alive. “I do too, mostly windowsill flowers, and the occasional herb and succulent. Though those tend to die on me, though. I’m not as familiar with desert plants.”

The knight's brow furrows thoughtfully, a thumb to his chin.

“How often do you water the succulents?”

“Uhm, maybe every 3 days.”

“Ah, that’s the issue.” The knight has locked in, turning his chest toward you. You become aware of how close your hand is to his leg, or his shoulder to your shoulder. “Succulents are small, but hardy. They only need water every week or so, some even less.”

“Oh, I never realized. I must have been drowning the poor things!”

“It's a common mistake, I made it myself the first time. Now they’re one of my favorites. Small but mighty.”

Much like yourself, Mr. Captain.

The stirring in your stomach is familiar, your heartbeat just a little bit faster. Handsome, polite, and knowledgeable without being condescending. Where has this goblin been hiding?

Well if no ones gonna snatch him up…I better do it myself.

“I’m so sorry, I forgot to ask your name. How rude of me.” You scoot on more, fully breaking the normal boundaries. You hold out your hand. “I’m ____.”

The knight looks at your hand, then looks at you. You think you catch a hint of a blush at the tips of his ears, right before he grabs your hand and presses a kiss onto your knuckles.

“Leon, my dear. A pleasure to meet you.”

His smile is infectious, one curling up at your lips.

Oh, I see.

“Should I call you captain? Seems only right with such an honorable position.” Your hand rests on his armored knee. There's two solid layers between you, but you can still feel him twitch at the touch.

“No need, I get enough of that from my men. Just Leon.”

“Ok, just Leon. Gardening’s a yes, dancing’s a no, what other things do you do for fun?”

“Training, mostly. Not very exciting, but I personally enjoy the rigor and discipline of my work.”

“I disagree, good sir. I’ve seen knights train before, it is far from boring. In fact, me and my siblings used to make trips to the capital just to see them spar.” You chuckle, the old memory of betting on the good-looking knights resurfacing. Your teenage years were voracious. “Seeing them move so gracefully, so powerfully, with all that heavy armor and weaponry. It was enthralling. And if I’m being honest….” The hand on Leon’s knee moves upwards. Leon’s throat bobs, “...very attractive.” Your hand changes its course and moves to the outside of his thigh, tracing the empty sheath still tied to his waist. Leon exhales heavily out of his nose, his tail flicking by his side. “What weapon do you prefer most, captain?”

“Ah, my rapier.” Leon's voice only catches a bit, well-practiced dn maintaining his composure. If only that cute blush didn’t give him away. “Light, quick, and efficient. I am also proficient in a short sword, but I always find myself going back to the rapier.”

“Hmm good to know, I’m sure to become Captain you must have studied quite rigorously. I would love to see you spar one day, Leon.”

A tint of pride curls up the side of Leon’s lips into a smirk, his shoulders raising. He had been so bashful, but it seemed this was a skill he was comfortable bragging about.

“Well…” Leon looks at his men, all still drunk but most of them having found a suitable partner, a place to sit, or a bucket to throw up in. “I could show you right now.”

You sure your eyes are sparkling, your voice almost a squeal.

“Yes please.”

—

And that’s how you find yourself outside, away from the warm fire and flowing alcohol, goosebumps all over as you watch Leon demonstrate. He had procured his rapier from the tavern keeper, who had shown you a nice area outside with the proper amount of room. It was hard to say no to the Captain, after all.

“First you bow to your opponent. Respect is paramount to a proper duel.” Leon zips his feet together, bowing at a perfect angle, hand not even on hilt. “When it’s called, you may draw your weapon and ready yourself.” The gleaming metal shings as it’s pulled out from Leon’s sheath, his forearm muscle flexing with the smooth movement. He holds the weapon out and forward with only one hand, stepping his non-dominant foot backward. Yet Leon keeps his weight centered, his front toe ready to jab at any moment. “This is my preferred stance, as it allows me to be quick and fluid. Once the the match has started, I can make my first strike.” Leon is just as quick as one would expect, shoulder bursting forward to throw the sharp end of the rapier into his imaginary opponent's chest. “If I am blocked, I can easily move back and adjust.” He bounces on the balls of his feet as he scoots back. “I survey their next move, and then I may strike again-” Leon jabs forward, “-or parry a blow-'' Leon swipes his rapier diagonally, the force blowing a breeze across your face, “-or even block, and strike again.” Leon turns his blade, muscles holding steady as if real weight was applied, before he easily swipes his blade again. “If I hit, that is the end of the duel. As in real life, it only take one blow to slay you.” Leon flicks his blade in his hand, adjusting it to slide back into his sheath just as smoothly as before. He turns and gives a gracious bow, waving his hand to his single person audience.

You clap furiously, cheeks flushed from both the cold and your excitement. Seeing a person of such skill perform was always a thrill.

And very, very sexy.

You stand up from your seat, mimicking the excited whoops of a crowd. Leon plays into it, putting his hand on his chest in a faux-sense of embarrassment.

“And of course, always check on your opponent, and give a good handshake.”

Leon shakes his imagined fighter's hands, even mouthing words of “good fight, good fight.”

A strand of Leon's hair has come loose from his slicked-back style, hanging down in a curl against hsu forward. His cheeks are also flushed and his gloved hand goes to rub the back of his neck. You watch the bones crack as he stretches, the muscles flexing.

Oh my gods, thank you for this sight.

“So, how about we-”

You’re rudely interrupted by a stool being thrown out a window, a mixture of excited gasps and the angry yells of a barkeep about paying for that echoing across the lot. Leon is next to you in a moment, grabbing your wrist and pulling you close. He only comes up to your waist, yet you’ve never felt more shielded.

“ALRIGHT, EVERYBODY OUT, NOW!”

Drunken patrons and knights spill out of the front, you and Leon forgotten out in the back area. No one seems harmed, mostly embarrassed and/or delirious. Probably a prank gone wrong.

“Seems that ale was much stronger than it tasted.” You murmur.

“Quite. So was whoever threw that stool.”

You guffaw, shocked once again by this Captain’s sense of humor.

“Well, if the tavern is closed, let me walk you back to your abode. I hadn’t realized how late it had gotten.” Leon looks up aht stars, the moon high in the night sky.

“Uh, wouldn’t you like to check on your men?”

“They’re big boys, they can handle themselves. I would much prefer making sure you get home safe.”

Leon holds out his elbow for you to take. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you eagerly take it.

—

“I must thank you for your time tonight.” Leon pants, pushing back strands of loose hair behind his ears. “I was quite ready to spend the night with only my drink, left with my thoughts in that corner booth. But it has been a delight speaking with you. ”

“It was my pleasure, Captain. It’s easy to make fun when with such interesting company.” You nudge his shoulder with your hip, giving him another wink.

Leon chuckles, a tinge of dark green colors at the tips of Leon’s ears.

“I could say the same.”

There’s a lingering something in the air as you two walk side by side, the brisk night air against your sweaty skin. Your eyes can’t help but wander over his exposed shoulder and neck, see the way his tail flicks back and forth in a slow pattern. The space between your paths slowly close, your clothes and his armor only breathes apart by the time you reach your doorway

“So,” Your hand brushes across Leon’s shoulder, goosebumps pebbling the back of his neck, “...would you like to come in?” You gesture with your head, a wry smirk curling up your lips.

For once, the captain seems lost for words, something almost caught in his throat. His gaze dances across your exposed shoulders, shooting hack up in an instant. Your index finger tucks another stray hair behind his ear, an almost imperceptible shiver running down his spine. You can hear your blood pumping in your ears.

A gentle, gloved hand daintily grabs your wrist, pulling it away from his shoulder with a polite smile. Your stomach sinks a bit, but you try not to let it show.

“Best if not.” Leon’s thumb rubs across your pulse before gently setting it down to your side. It’s a polite rejection, but you can't help feeling slightly embarrassed for reading him incorrectly, words knotting up in your stomach. So you nod, placing your hand into your pants pocket, hoping he doesn’t see it shake.

Idiot, Idiot, Idiot-

“Of course, Captain. Have a good night.”

You turn to your doorway, trying not to let the disappointment hit too hard.

“There’s a market tomorrow morning, in the grove. I’ve heard they’re supposed to have the most beautiful plants on display from all across the kingdom.” Leon worries the bottom of his tunic in his hands. “Would you like to join me?”

A childlike giddiness fills your stomach, how lighter than ever. You don’t hide your smile.

“I would love to.” You linger in your doorway, feet kicking as a blush heats up your cheeks. “Meet me here at 9?”

Leon’s canines gleam in the lamplight, his lips curling as he drops into the bow.

“It’d be my honor.”

#my writing #reader insert #monster x reader #monster romance #gender neutral reader #goblin #goblin x reader

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wttcsms · 4 months

Text

excerpts;

i have over 100k+ words in unfinished drafts/wips in my google docs. yikes.

in an attempt to gauge general interest + also to motivate myself in attempting to at least finish half of the projects i've started, i'm going to share some of the fics i think y'all will be most interested in 🤍 (and also because these are my usual first rough draft attempts, so these are just the best of the worst LOL)

as always, lmk what you think, what you're most excited for, and i'm always open to chatting about any of my concepts in depth 🤭

featuring keiji akaashi, atsumu miya, sae itoshi, tobio kageyama, naoya zenin, satoru gojo, + a plot that's still open for any character so tell me why ur fave deserves it (all with fem reader)

— brace for impact, keiji akaashi elevator pitch: rich college girl with daddy issues is roommates/put under the care of old-time family friend, 20-something y/o keiji akaashi

“I just don’t want you to waste your life away.” He answers, which is the truth. He really hates picking you up when you’re drunk off your ass, unable to defend yourself against the swarms of sleazy college guys that are attending the same party as you. He hates the fact that you’ve been raised — if the dozen father-daughter interactions you had with your dad counts as him “raising” you — to believe that money can solve all your problems. Because, sure, having money has gotten you out of many tight spots, but it wasn’t money that drove to a college on the other side of the city to pick you up, it was him. He has to stand here and watch you push the universe’s boundaries, trying to test your luck, to see if there’s a problem or a bad situation that you can’t get out of this time. You’re reckless and privileged and insecure and rich — the deadliest combination for any college age girl to be. You’re going to ruin your life before it even fully begins. It’s like your default mode is self destruction.

“Not this speech again.” You sigh, shifting your body so that your knees are turned towards the door instead of him. “Y’know, Akaashi, you’re not my dad.”

“Yeah, because unlike him, I actually care about you.”

You’re silent now, still staring out the window. He’s usually better at keeping his mouth shut, but it’s hard to do whenever you’re constantly pushing and pushing and testing his patience and he’s just so—

“—sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” His knuckles are white from how hard he’s gripping the steering wheel. It’s a wonder how the words leave his mouth; you think the way he’s clenching his teeth acts as a formidable enough boundary.

Actually, you think, it’s entirely justifiable. You’re coy, not dumb. You know when you’ve pushed Akaashi too far, and this is one of those times. And, really, you kind of — scratch that — you do deserve it. All of it. And then some. You’re irresponsible, and you drag him out to the other side of the city so he can act as your guardian, your protector, even though that is most certainly not the role he planned on playing. Honestly, you’re just surprised that he hasn’t left you out to rot like everyone else, and you’re thankful, you really are. But what are you supposed to say? That? The truth? Probably.

You don’t, though. You just mutter some weak ass retort that sounds an awful lot like “you need to get laid” before staring out the window for the rest of the ride.

— devil on my shoulder tellin' me i'll die soon (i don't really want that to impact you), atsumu miya elevator pitch: yakuza au but a healthy amount of porn and plot. sequel to this.

The first time Osamu Miya meets you, you’re unconscious, and he has a feeling you’d be grateful about this fact considering the state you’re in.

Atsumu’s carrying you bridal style, and even in your sleep, you still cling to him. The sight would be almost sweet, but Osamu’s not an idiot. There can never be anything sweet in his dear older brother’s life. Even in the pale moonlight, Osamu can see the bruises and hickeys lining your neck, a trail of them that seem to disappear underneath your clothes (he wouldn’t be shocked if there’s a map of hickeys littering your skin). Your hair is sticking up at odd angles, your lips are swollen, and you are knocked out in every sense of the word.

If the situation wasn’t serious (even without verbal confirmation, he’s well aware of how dire this situation is right now; Atsumu wouldn’t have visited him if it weren’t), Osamu thinks he would have made a comment about his brother’s rough handling.

(He doesn’t, though, because Osamu knows all about just how rough his brother can get — after all, they both had the same upbringing.)

“‘Samu,” Atsumu says, and his voice makes him sound like he’s worse for wear. He sounds like when he was fourteen and had his first taste of initiation, when a group of the strongest men would beat him relentlessly for thirty seconds and he wasn’t allowed to fight back. The crack in his voice is subtle, and even though Osamu rarely speaks to his brother anymore, he’s still a master at reading him.

“Who’s the girl?” Osamu nods to your sleeping form, trying not to focus on the purple and red marks. God, he can’t tell if he, Atsumu, you, or all three of you are lucky it’s so dark. Osamu can’t really believe it’s possible to go out in public after a night with his brother; not without being on the receiving end of a few concerned looks.

“I need a favor.” Atsumu ignores his question, which is typical behavior for him, so Osamu’s not entirely too surprised or annoyed. “She’s in danger, and it’s—”

Atsumu grimaces like the next words he’s about to say are going to leave a bitter taste in his mouth. And maybe it’s because that’s his brother and they grew up together, or maybe it’s because ‘Tsumu’s always been a little predictable (or has Osamu just always been good at predicting?), but Osamu can almost mouth what his brother’s about to say.

“—my fault.”

So, you must be someone awfully important to his brother then. Important enough that Atsumu would finally visit him in person after all these years (with barely any warning beforehand, too). Important enough that Atsumu would treat you so roughly (if the marks on your body are any indication of what you’ve been through) and still care about you so deeply. Important enough that he’s finally taking accountability, finally taking the blame for his actions.

He didn’t think it was possible, but Atsumu’s left him genuinely speechless for a moment.

“Please, ‘Samu.” Atsumu Miya is not the type of person who breaks down easily. He does not beg, he commands. But right now, Atsumu sounds like he’s this close to getting down on his knees and clasping his hands together if that’s what it’ll take to get Osamu to help him. “You told me you would owe me after what I did for you. Consider this your repayment.”

Apparently, you’re someone so important to Atsumu, he’s cashing in a favor that’s worth his life just to ensure your safety. Osamu can’t tell if that’s true idiocy or true love — then again, there’s hardly a difference between the two, is there?

“Idiot. I would have helped ya regardless, y’know.” He means it. Every word.

“I know.” And Atsumu means it, too. Because even if they’ve went years with little to no contact, even though they both belong to two completely different worlds, they’re still brothers. Which means that they also know each other as well as they know themselves, and Atsumu knows that Osamu can never truly be at peace until he feels like the completely imaginary debt he owes is paid back in full.

The universe must have a taste for irony, though, because Atsumu thought that ensuring your safety and bringing his brother peace would make him feel good. Instead, transferring you to his brother’s arms allows the weight of the world to rest more comfortably on his shoulders.

Osamu takes one last look at his older brother, and he’s not entirely surprised to see that his attention is on you, dark eyes staring so intensely at your sleeping figure, he wonders if he’s trying to commit your face to his memory. He’s worried about Atsumu. Sure, he’s got a whole entire gang on his side, a rather powerful one too, but ‘Tsumu’s never been the greatest at being left alone to his devices, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

But then Atsumu looks up at him, and Osamu feels like they’re both fourteen again. Trapped, vulnerable, in immense pain… But not alone, never alone.

“Thanks, ‘Samu.”

“Any time, ‘Tsumu.”

(It’s the same words exchanged by their teenage selves years ago, whenever Osamu would help him clean his cuts and sloppily stitch him up.

To them, it was another way of saying “I love you”.)

— it always leads to you [chapter one], sae itoshi elevator pitch: literally the long ass, long awaited start to this series. if you listened to taylor's new album (ttpd)... yeah, that's basically the new soundtrack for this fic. do what u will with that info <3

A hard pill to swallow is that people never get over their first loves.

It’s like, scientifically proven, or something. There’s been studies, you think. Not to mention that you belong to the group of people who have never gotten over their first loves.

You’re aware that it’s probably embarrassing and should be something that brings you shame, but when Sae comes knocking on your door, infrequent, surprise visits that always catch you off-guard, you find yourself opening the door for him.

(He has a key. He can let himself in any time he wants. You think he must forget.)

This time, he’s not knocking on your door, but he is waiting in the stairwell near the entrance to the floor of your apartment. He’s got a baseball cap on and a dark sweatshirt, and you want to tell him that everyone who lives here is most definitely getting shitfaced at the college bar you just left (the one whose only redeeming qualities are that it’s by campus and the drinks are cheap). He doesn’t have to worry about hiding his identity.

You frown when he approaches you.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” you pout and complain about this halfheartedly, but it’s all for nothing. Sae never tells you when he’s coming; it’s almost like you’re just a spur-of-the-moment decision to him, which doesn’t feel right since the Sae you grew up with was always meticulous and purposeful with his actions. Granted, the Sae you grew up with left on a plane to an entirely different continent four years ago, and the one you have standing next to you now sometimes feels more like a doppelganger than your ex-boyfriend.

He doesn’t answer, because of course he fucking wouldn’t. He waits for you to fumble with your keys; if you knew he was coming, you wouldn’t have let Akane convince you to take as many shots as you did. Now everything is kind of blurry and hazy, and your hands shake despite the lack of coldness you’re feeling.

You delude yourself into thinking that there’s something of the old Sae left inside of him as he gently pries the keys from your fumbling fingers and unlocks the door to your apartment himself.

Entering your apartment feels like traveling in a time machine, only instead of traveling back in time or to the future, Sae is entering a present-day parallel universe. This apartment, with its best (and only) amenity being a short distance from campus, could have been his. Could have been shared by the two of you, even.

If he had stayed, that is.

Sometimes Sae ponders what his life would be like if he stuck around. If he had never had the ego or the audacity to want to see more of the world. You know better than to ask him why he never visits you when you’re on a holiday break from school, and he thinks it’s because you still know him the best out of anybody, even Rin. The truth is, Sae is too uncomfortable to come crawling back to his childhood home that he grew up in, the one he’s spent years determined to grow out of. He only comes back home when absolutely necessary — out of eldest son/family obligation.

This college apartment, seeing remnants of a life you’re living that he doesn’t know much about (even though all he has to do is ask, and you would gladly tell), feels wrongly nostalgic. Like, the sweatshirt lying haphazardly on the couch displaying a big, fat Tokyo U logo on its front could have been his instead of your roommate’s. He could have played college ball instead of trying to get recruited directly to the big leagues. Sae’s good enough to get a scholarship. Even received a letter informing him that Tokyo U would be more than glad to have him, full-ride.

(The letter resides in the back of his closet, crumpled up but never forgotten.)

And, most importantly, you wouldn’t be looking at him like this.

Even drunk off of cheap alcohol, you sober up startlingly fast when you see him. You shouldn’t give him so much power over your life, but he’d be a damn liar if he said he didn’t relish in the overwhelming relief that you still love him just the same. Nothing ever changes back home, and he says this with disdain, but when it comes to your unshifting affection for him, he figures staying the same can’t be all bad.

“Y’know, it always feels like you’re judging me when you just stand there and look at everything.” An intoxicated you is an honest you. If he wasn’t so determined to mask everything about himself, he would have smiled at your admittance.

He doesn’t smile, though. He just continues to let his cold eyes roam across the entirety of your cramped, college apartment.

— an indentation in the shape of you, tobio kageyama elevator pitch: idol!reader who goes into hiding after a major scandal despite being the victim x pro!tobio who's been hopelessly pining after you since forever. now you're in hiding, but also living in the apartment right across from his.

SEARCH NEWS: [NAME] [SURNAME] > TOP RESULTS (SORTED FROM MOST TO LEAST RECENT)

WHERE DID [NAME] [SURNAME] GO? *INCLUDES EXCLUSIVE PHOTO OF HER MOST RECENT SIGHTING!*Posted on March 10, 2019

[NAME]’S SOCIAL MEDIA ACCOUNTS HAVE BEEN TAKEN DOWN, IDOL HAS NOT BEEN SPOTTED IN A WEEK Posted on January 4, 2019 BREAKING: [NAME] [SURNAME] GOES SOLO! LEAVES IDOL GROUP TO START HER OWN CAREER! Posted November 6, 2018

KENTARO TANAKA NOW DATING J-POP IDOL AYAME MATSUMOTO, [NAME]’S FELLOW GIRL GROUP MEMBER!Posted on November 1, 2018

AFTER RECEIVING BACKLASH FROM ANNOUNCEMENT OF HER RELATIONSHIP, [NAME] [SURNAME] ISSUES AN APOLOGY ON ALL SOCIAL MEDIA ACCOUNTS Posted on September 3, 2018

NEW COUPLE ALERT! IDOL [NAME] AND HER RECORD LABEL’S EXECUTIVE, KENTARO TANAKA, SPARK DATING RUMORS Posted on August 16, 2018

When you spend most of your adolescent and young adult years standing in front of a camera, constantly served on a platter for the masses to scrutinize during your most formative years, you get used to being seen. People’s eyes locked in on you isn’t a comfortable feeling, but it’s one you’re very well acquainted with. Watchful, judging gazes cling to you like a second skin.

It comes with the job is what your personal manager, Fumiko Gima, tells you, right before she tells you to toughen up. You had been fifteen at the time and saw a blogger discussing how you were the least attractive cast member on the children’s ensemble show you starred in.

All eyes are on you from this point forward. You really going to let them see you cry? Fumiko is not a nice person, but she is incredibly kind, in her own way. She’s the type of person who believes in tough love, all while claiming that she doesn’t even think love exists.

You think about the disapproving frown on her face when you revealed your relationship with Kentaro Tanaka.

“You think you’re in love with him?” Sometimes it’s hard to believe that Fumiko is barely seven years older than you. Her youth is evident in her flawless skin and shiny hair (both of which are maintained by very meticulous routines), but the flat expression she wears on her face makes her seem like a woman who found out the hard way that her thirties are not going the way she planned. You’re eighteen when she asks you this question, and you don’t know how a twenty-five year old woman can have such an intimidating aura, but you think that only adds to her beauty.

“He told me he loves me.”

“People like him and I don’t believe in love.” Fumiko makes a face; sometimes, she lets her poker face drop in favor of making a face of disgust, annoyance, irritation, or extreme smugness. Right now, she looks disgusted. “Well, I wouldn’t normally place myself in the same group as him, but our industries are pretty much the same. You don’t get to where we’re at because of love, that’s for damn certain.”

At this point in time, you’re adamant that it’s love because that’s what he says it is, and you’ve never been in love before, but you know that it’s something great. You’re eighteen, and insecure, and he’s in such a powerful position — he could have anyone he wants, and he loves you, so he picks you. Maybe Fumiko is just bitter because no one’s ever chosen her.

— angel of the morning, atsumu miya elevator pitch: historical, ambiguous war au ft. soldier!atsumu x the civilian sweetheart reader who nurses him back to health

It’s the thunder that wakes you first.

Lately, you’ve been a light sleeper. Paranoia is a good companion whenever you’re a young, pitifully unmarried lady who lives alone. You keep a chair propped under the knob of the front door, and you no longer open any windows, scared that you’ll forget to lock them at night.

Normally, it’s the ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer, or the creaks that come and interrupt the silence of the night (your parents used to swear that old houses just make those noises) that keeps you up. Sometimes it’s the neighbors next door; they like to get into screaming matches that seem to be so loud, they shake the walls of your home.

It’s not your neighbors’ arguing that rattles the walls tonight. It’s the thunderstorm that the sweet old man at the farmer’s market warned you about. You be safe out, miss. Take some extra apples. It might be too flooded for you to go out like you normally do.

You pull your blanket over your head, enveloping yourself in darkness but doing very little to block out the noise outside. The thunder seems to only grow louder, each boom punctuating the lightning that you’re certain is striking through the sky. It’s too loud.

And rhythmic.

You listen closer… Three booms in succession. A pause. Three more booms. After a minute of this pattern, the sound only comes more rapidly — louder than before, too.

The loud booms — it’s not from the storm, then.

There’s someone knocking at your door.

You debate hiding under the blanket forever. Maybe this stranger will go away and leave once they realize that no one is going to answer the door. Besides, no one trustworthy is roaming the area at this time of night, right? What possible explanation could there be for someone to be stranded outside at midnight during a major thunderstorm?

But the knocking persists. Whoever this stranger is, they don’t know when to quit. You’d be annoyed if you weren’t so paralyzed with fear.

“Open up!” A muffled voice still manages to cut through the front door, traveling all the way to your bedroom. It only serves to make you more afraid; what sort of monster is waiting for you outside? The storm rages on, and the knocking won’t stop.

What happens if this person is in genuine trouble? Would a murderer truly be going through such lengths to kill someone? A thief?

Well, you rationalize, it’s not as if you have many items worth stealing. Besides, you have no family, no marriage prospects, and a dwindling stash of money with no means to make more. You’re just existing at this point, and you’re surviving on limited time.

So you make your way to the front door, cringing as one section of the floor creaks as you tiptoe through the darkness of your home. You highly doubt the stranger outside can hear you, but you still hold your breath as you peek through the curtains. It’s too dark inside and out for anyone to notice the movement, and all you can make out is a large figure. There’s a knapsack by their feet and hanging off their shoulder is a gun.

The knocks shouldn’t catch you off guard by now, but one particular hard bang against the door has you jumping in surprise, away from the window.

This stranger must be a soldier.

There’s not a lot of fighting to be done down here. The southern towns have mostly been unaffected. Most of the war is being fought up north. All the southern soldiers write back home, telling stories about the cities they visited, careful not to mention the red that runs through the streets and the way the citizens will have to update the population count on the sign outside their City Hall.

But still, you know what everyone knows — when a soldier, especially one from your side, shows up on your front step, you better let him know that this home is now his.

You slide the deadbolt with shaky hands, turn the lock on the doorknob, and only hesitate for a few seconds before removing the chair that serves as your last barrier. He’s a soldier, you remind yourself, hoping that you’re not wrong. The least you can do for him is offer him a hot bath for leaving him outside for so long.

You open the door, revealing a blond-haired soldier weighed down from the weight of his sopping wet uniform, his hair sticking to his forehead because his face is also covered in rainwater, and it’s now that you notice that he’s got one arm wrapped around his abdomen. His hand is pressing down on his side, and you don’t think the dark liquid coating his fingers is water.

��Finally.” He says. “I’m First Lieutenant Miya, and I fight for the south. I am seeking temporary refuge in your home, and I require only what you can afford to give me. I–“ Before he can finish rattling off what he’s been forced to memorize for times like these, First Lieutenant Miya falls forward, his body crashing into yours.

It’s been a rough day.

A rough week.

A rough month.

A rough life, really, but Atsumu Miya’s long past the days of whining and complaining about things he can’t control. For example, he no longer dwells on his father abandoning his mother right before she gave birth to him and Osamu. There’s still a bitter taste that gets left on his tongue when he mentions dear old pa, which is why, for the most part, he chooses not to discuss him at all. He can’t control the way the north and the south view each other; sure, the mandatory draft isn’t his definition of a fun time, but he honestly didn’t have many plans after school, anyway. He probably would’ve joined the cause, regardless of the law or not. It’s just… A choice is nice to have, y’know?

Like, if he had it his way, he wouldn’t have gotten caught up in some ambush tonight. If only he weren’t just a lieutenant. If only his captain weren’t such a dumbass.

If he had a group to command, Atsumu’s certain that he wouldn’t lead his men into obvious traps, unlike some captains. But newly promoted Brigadier General Kita isn’t here to force people to listen to what Atsumu has to say. Kita has bigger problems to worry about, bigger troops to organize.

Atsumu’s morning starts off bright and early with a five mile trek in the woods. The sky is overcast, and anyone with eyes is capable of predicting the storm that’s coming. Atsumu suggests building temporary shelter before the rain makes it too hard to walk; it’s already hard enough to navigate now, but Atsumu’s visited this town before, when he was a little boy. It floods easily, too easily.

His captain doesn’t listen. Typical.

Around noon, they take a short break to eat. Rations are getting lower. Atsumu suggests that two or three soldiers turn around and head towards town to get supplies. His captain argues that their group is already small enough and sneers that Atsumu must be a northie lover since he’s trying so hard to sabotage this plan.

The plan is shit, by the way. The captain swears his intel is good, that he’s just oh so certain that a troop of northern soldiers are planning to invade a series of small southern towns. They’re supposedly cutting through the woods to be discreet, and they plan on striking at night.

Atsumu thinks that the captain is just falling into their trap (spoiler: he’s right). There’s no way anyone would bother capturing small towns, just like there’s no way people ever want to listen to someone who’s just a lieutenant. Nobody thinks they have anything to offer, so it’s not worth the time to even pretend to care. These towns aren’t loaded with resources. They aren’t located in any coveted areas. There are only a couple of farms, but even then, they’re not big enough to justify wasting troops to terrorize the townspeople.

But First Lieutenant Miya follows his orders anyway because what else is he supposed to do? Unfortunately, talking back comes to bite him in the ass because as nighttime starts to settle and the first drops of rain start to fall, his captain gives him a slimy smile before telling him, “Since you have such great ideas, Lieutenant, why don’t you go ahead and turn back into town to get us some of those supplies we needed?”

Well, Atsumu has a few choice words in reply, none of which will get him back into his captain’s good graces (not like he cares to be anyway). Atsumu can argue that it’s dark out, and no one in their right mind is going to be up at night. Atsumu can throw back his captain’s words and remind him that their measly team is already lacking in numbers. He can make the captain look dumb and ask him where the supposed enemy troops are at, since apparently they’re supposed to be capturing the town right about now. He can abandon the men, go back home, and enjoy a homecooked meal from ma. She wouldn’t care enough to scold him for being a dirty deserter; the lecture will come, surely, but she wouldn’t be too harsh with him. Atsumu misses home. He misses his brother, who belongs to a different troop. He misses Shinsuke, his former captain. He misses his mom.

What he does end up doing, though, is biting back his tongue. He barely nods, clenches his teeth as he reluctantly says yes, sir, and treks off on his own.

He’s about three miles in when the bullets start flying.

Isn’t this just a lovely way to finish off the night, he thinks, before sprinting through the trees, weaving between them, trying to ignore how loud and how close the shots sound. He thinks he’ll probably go deaf by the time this damn war is over. A bullet narrowly misses his face, and then he starts to think he’ll probably be dead before then.

He can’t see. If he can’t see, he doubts the enemies can, either. That’s when he gets an idea. His legs are sore, he’s thirsty, and every step he takes is punctuated by a sloshing sound because the area is flooding, just like he predicted it would.

(Sometimes it’s a pain being right all the time.)

The shots are still coming at him in rapid succession, and he believes maybe it’s because they still think they have to shoot at him. If they think they got him, maybe they’ll leave him alone. It didn’t sound like anyone was bothering to chase after him, meaning they’re all probably perched in trees or hiding in bushes, shooting blindly into the night, hoping to land a lucky shot on a target.

Before he can pretend to be hit, though, some bastard does get a lucky shot on him.

“Fuck!” He can’t help but yell out, the bullet piercing the side of his abdomen. A burning sensation begins to form on the spot where the bullet decided to make its happy home, and Atsumu can’t help but fall to the ground, clutching at the bottom half of his body.

A minute goes by with no more shooting, and he’s glad he’s in enough pain not to realize that had he thought of his little plan of pretending to be shot sooner, he probably wouldn’t be in this predicament right now.

It’d be so easy just to lie down and die. It’d be a slow death, sure. Painful, very much so. But no more fighting. No more captains belittling him.

But if you die, a tiny voice in his head reminds him, it wouldn’t just be you that dies. It’d kill ma. It would ruin Osamu. Don’t be a selfish bastard.

He allows himself only one more minute to stay absolutely still. He thinks the adrenaline pumping in his system helps to numb the pain, which is saying a lot, considering the fact that death would be preferable over this excruciating sensation. When he’s certain the coast is clear, he struggles to stand and keep himself steady.

He cannot die like this.

Atsumu Miya knows better than to get upset at things he can’t control. He can’t control flying bullets aimed at him. He can’t control enemy soldiers; hell, he doesn’t even have soldiers he can control, enemy or ally. He can’t control a lot of shitty things that seem to happen to him, but as long as his heart is still beating, Atsumu Miya controls his own fate. He decides what happens next.

It’s only a matter of putting one foot in front of the other, he rationalizes. He walks all the time. It’s not such a hard task. The storm continues to rage on, and Atsumu pretends he doesn’t even mind the water. He pretends that he’s not freezing. He pretends that he doesn’t care that his uniform is sticking to his body, making the dirty fabric cling onto him as if to act as a second skin.

There’s a white flag in his knapsack. During training, they said to use it as a last resort. Die before you wave it, or something like that.

He knows the intended use for it, but right now, he needs it as a tourniquet. He tightens the flag around his waist, using all his diminishing strength to get it as tight as possible. He can trick himself into thinking it’ll stop the flow of blood leaving his body, but at least it’ll slow it down. It’ll grant him enough time to make it into town and get help.

He doesn’t choose the first house he sees; he chooses the one he likes the best. It’s nothing all too impressive — certainly not the biggest, but from what he can make out in the dark, it looks quaint. It reminds him of home, almost. There’s a porch with a bench outside and flowers on a window sill. It seems to glow in the darkness of the town, its paint a much brighter shade than the surrounding houses. A nice family must live here then.

He knocks on the door, and there is no answer. Atsumu Miya did not walk this far with his life literally draining out of him to only make it this far. He knocks and knocks, and because he is too stubborn, even to the very end, he doesn’t quit. Someone must answer the door. It doesn’t cross his mind that perhaps this lovely family he’s envisioning might not even be home. It feels like ages since he first started banging on this door, and he thinks this might be it.

And then the door swings open, revealing a young lady with a certain glow about her. Maybe it’s the blood loss talking, but right now, you look like an absolute angel. His bright beacon of hope.

“Finally.” He swallows hard, trying to remember what he’s supposed to tell you. The proper words are evading him right now. Honestly, even standing is a struggle now. He thinks he does a good enough job, but then he blinks, and his eyes don’t open back up after that.

— to the victor belong the spoils, naoya zenin elevator pitch: the dark longfic i mentioned abt borderline yandere naoya + how he basically slaughtered your whole entire clan and is going to force you to marry him because you have a cursed technique that will basically grant him invincibility

“Who did this?” You’ve seen Naoya so angry that his words seemed to shake the very interior of the room he was shouting in. You’ve seen Naoya so furious that he had everyone in his vicinity cowering in fear, scared to face his merciless wrath. Never have you seen him so enraged that he can hardly speak, the sentence coming out from between bared teeth; they’re discernible growls more than they are words, but his message doesn’t need to be understood in order to know his intent.

Naoya Zenin is out for blood.

“Tell me who did this.” He demands, hand gripping your chin, forcing you to tilt your head up and stare him directly in the eyes. You know why he does this; he can read you like a fucking book. He’ll know if you’re lying before you can even finish whatever fabricated story you’ve spent forever formulating. There’s no point in trying to trick him because it’ll cause him to get angrier, and then what? Then, you’ll have the whole entire room’s blood on your hands. A massacre dedicated just for you.

You hadn’t cried when he had taken you from your home. You hadn’t cried when you were about to be killed by that curse. You hadn’t shed a single tear despite the unfamiliarity of the Zenin Estate, despite the fact that you were forced into a marriage with a man you did not know, despite the fact that you’ve never been this far from home, suffering silently in feelings of isolation and despair. You hadn’t cried after all of that, yet now you’re sobbing? Now you’re here, struggling to stand on your own, clutching onto the material of his shirt as if he’s your only lifeline, dangerously close to burying your face in his chest and crying your little eyes out. He’s been angry more times than he’s ever felt any other emotion. He’s numb to the feeling of his blood rising, of his vision being tainted with red, of having nothing but sick thoughts and vivid memories of torn flesh and severed limbs surrounding him. This emotion isn’t foreign to him; it’s a part ofhim. And he’s angry, yes, but there’s something else that he feels when he looks down and sees you making yourself smaller, as if trying to use him as your own personal shield.

— balancing act [chapter one], satoru gojo elevator pitch: the first month of your bet will you and gojo inevitably get together <3 the start of this series.

You have what you order down to a T. You first started your tried and true method of restaurant ordering when you were but a wee little intern, too shy to go to town on a rack of ribs in front of your peers and bosses. Once you entered the city’s dating scene (which is actually Dante’s tenth circle of hell — it’s just never discussed because that’s truly how vile trying to find a good man in a big city is), you realized that there’s not much difference between lunch dates and client lunches.

You have the obligatory greeting exchanges (“hi,” “hello,” “how are you,” etc.), the awkward smiles, the mental countdown going off in your head as you wait for the perfect moment to get right into business (“what do you expect to gain from this partnership?” — a line surprisingly used more often in your meetings with potential investors and clients). There’s the pained professionalism, the tight-lipped smiles, the napkin resting in your lap, the battle to maintain constant eye-contact. When you sit across from someone at a table, date or client, you don’t see the person; you see a goal.

And you’re good at working towards a goal. It’s why you’ve always been the analyst your managers rely on, why you’ve morphed into the senior associate that all your juniors look up to at G&G Capital, and why you automatically figure that if you set your sights on a man only to have him end things, it’s not you who was at fault. It has to be him. You’ve charmed the toughest clients and built fantastic working relationships with the most well-connected M&A lawyers; if you’re this good at professional relationships, why wouldn’t you also be fan-fucking-tastic at a romantic one?

All the men who have taken you out on dates before wanted to sweep you off your feet. An ex-boyfriend once admitted to you that you appeared so unimpressed at everything, it had become this fun, twisted competition with himself to see what he had to do to get a look of amazement on your face.

“I can tell by the look on your face that you’re impressed.” Gojo says gleefully, holding open the dirty glass door so you and Utahime can walk in.

Utahime looks like Gojo just slid open the backdoor to a white van and told her to get in. There’s shock with a hint of disgust evident on her pretty, doll-like features, and you know you’ve got a similar expression, too.

The floors inside this restaurant — if the dingy, dimly lit shack crammed with small tables and rickety chairs can even be considered a restaurant — are sticky with decades’ worth of mystery liquids that have congealed into the half-inch thick residue that coats the floorboards. You have to purposely think about moving one foot in front of the other in order to walk because actual pressure needs to be applied if you don’t want your heels to become glued to the floor. You’re walking in front of Utahime and Gojo, and you end up choosing a table in the far back; it looks the cleanest. Briefly, you wonder if you’re allowed to be here, then think better of it as Utahime takes the seat next to you, and Gojo takes the one across. You highly doubt there’s a hostess here that’s dictating where the customers sit.

Especially since, upon one glance of the whole place, you realize that it’s empty save for you three.

“Gojo, if we get killed, I hope they murder you in front of us first,” Utahime hisses. Her family’s so rich (and traditional), she’s never willingly been to a restaurant that doesn’t have a Michelin star. Before college, she’s never even eaten out at a chain restaurant. Being caught in a place like this has Utahime mentally spiraling towards rock bottom.

“I hope they would, too. I don’t think I have the stomach to watch you meet your grisly end.” Gojo says serenely. Usually, he says things loudly, teasingly, gets all up in your face. When it comes to Utahime, he likes to play at being nonchalant. He’s been doing this to her for over a decade now, and it still grates her.

Before Utahime can reply, the shaky voice of an older woman is exclaiming, “Oh! Welcome in! Have you gotten a chance to look over the menu?” The voice belongs to a short, plump woman with gray hair, a wrinkly face, but a kind smile that reveals yellowing teeth. She’s got a slight hunch to her back and nails with overgrown cuticles. You try to do a mental calculation of what you could buy this building for, to ensure that this sweet old lady never has to work a day in her life ever again.

“You know what I want, Mrs. Kimura.” Gojo is giving her one of his signature dazzling smiles. “You can just double the portions today since my friend Utahime here eats enough for a family of five.”

Mrs. Kimura lets out a throaty laugh. Utahime kicks Gojo in the shin from underneath the table. You’re wondering what Gojo orders from this place, and why does he order here so often to the point of them memorizing his meals?

“I’m glad you brought friends with you today, Satoru. Meals always taste better when shared with loved ones!” She directs a warm smile in your direction, and you feel bad for returning it with your normal polite one. Tiny and brief. It’s more muscle memory than born from any real emotion. She’s shuffling away to the kitchen before you can try to summon a genuine smile for her, and Utahime’s phone is ringing, filling this near empty space with the tinny, anxiety-inducing sound of an iPhone ringer.

She doesn’t excuse herself; just looks down at the glowing screen, grabs her phone, and heads outside to take the call.

Which leaves you sitting across from Gojo. Just the two of you. Just the two of you in a dingy restaurant seemingly run by only one old woman. The table looks older than you. The chair you’re sitting on makes a weird squeaky noise with any slight movement of your body. There’s no decor on the walls, no windows either. Nothing to distract you, nothing for you to feign interest in as you wait for Utahime to come back.

You straighten your posture, try to discreetly look out the front door to gauge how close Utahime is to wrapping up her conversation, and find yourself with no choice but to look in front of you. All you see is Gojo.

He’s tall, you know that. Broad shoulders. Definitely not hideous, you can give him that much. You just feel shocked at how much space he takes up, how it feels like your eyes have to stretch to try to accommodate all of him.

You don’t know why you feel so awkward, almost like a teenager going on her very first date with a boy she barely knows but still, for some inexplicable reason, wants so badly to impress. You can’t remember the last time you’ve ever felt this way, and you definitely don’t like this feeling at all.

“How’d you find this place?” You ask him.

“I like to support small businesses.” He’s not teasing you, but Gojo has this bad habit of always adding a playful inflection to his words.

“I hope you tip well. You look like their only supporter.” It’s not meant to be an insult to the painfully empty restaurant. You know how much Gojo is worth; when Itadori Googled “Satoru Gojo net worth” and showed the results to everyone, Gojo caught him in the act, looked at the top result, and threw his head back in laughter as he told Itadori to “add an extra zero and triple the number.” You think back to your calculation and assessment of the place. “Might as well buy the business.”

“You make capitalism so cute.” He has to be teasing you now. You scowl.

(He means it.)

— i wish to know the fatal flaw that makes you long to be magnificently cursed, satoru gojo elevator pitch: yandere gojo, royal au, nanny!reader... yeah idk what happened to this fic either, just that it was depraved and i wish i wrote more to share LOL

You’re acutely aware of the noise you’re making, every huff and small, desperate gasp for breath only further betraying your location, but you can’t find it in you to care.

You know, deep inside your pounding, frightened heart, that it doesn’t really matter how fast or how far you run.

I will always find you.

Just the mere thought of him is enough for you to ignore the ache in your legs and push forward. If you can find the exit, if you can just see the daylight, surely you’d be able to—

You stop in your tracks.

There are two paths: one right, one wrong. Left or right? Freedom or imprisonment?

There’s no time to waste, but you can’t make a choice. Which decision would be the right one? Surely either route would still be able to lead you to the exit, right? The sharp snap! of a branch being trampled on leaves you even more frightened. Without thinking, you take a left.

— i think you're too divine for my human mind, undecided elevator pitch: rough around the edges but w a heart of gold underground fighter!character x ring girl!reader. i think this was gonna be for bakugo LMAO but i do not have bnha brain rot so maybe a bllk or jjk or hq boy... NO ONE SAY ATSUMU I DON'T WANNA GIVE IT TO ATSUMU

The couch seems to shift with his weight, and you swallow hard, staring straight ahead at the same cement wall you’ve been staring at for the last ten minutes because you’re still too much of a fucking wimp to navigate this area by yourself.

Despite the two of you sitting at opposite ends of the couch, there’s only about one foot of space separating his knee from yours. You suppose that he gets away with the manspreading since he probably has no qualms with punching anyone who voices their offense. After witnessing just how brutal the infamous [ring name nickname] can get, you know that you’re definitely not going to be the one to say shit to him. You can’t even look at him.

Where the fuck is your sister? You have your arms crossed, covering your torso, and you think you must have subconsciously pressed yourself as far back into the couch as you possibly could. Everything about you must scream out “she wants to disappear!!!”, and the worst part of it all would be the fact that it’s the truth. You knew coming down here would be a bad idea, and the sinking feeling of regret is practically solidifying itself into your stomach. You think you could throw up.

“Hey,” a voice — a deep voice, scratchy and low and so scarily close to you — breaks the silence. “You must be…”

Of course, you’re used to it by now. Always being referred to as “Akemi’s little sister” no matter the situation, the person, the setting. It makes sense, you rationalize. Everyone knows Akemi. And so, by extension, they must know you — her shadow, her little sister.

“...helped out Sakura.”

“What?” You don’t know anyone named Sakura, but you finally turn your head to properly look at him as you answer. He’s got on a white shirt now, incredibly form-fitting, and he’s staring right back at you. You're quick to meet his eyes before getting too nervous and focusing on the space just below his eyes. Then, that becomes too close to eye contact for comfort, so you settle for staring at his jaw. It’s a nice jaw. Sharp. He could probably cut you with it if you contradict any of his statements, so maybe you should pretend to know this Sakura girl.

“You must be the girl that helped out Sakura.” He repeats. He says it slow and almost carefully, like he thinks you must be some sort of idiot who can’t comprehend the most basic of statements. “Gave her your jacket.” He clarifies, and it makes sense. The girl with the hot pink colored hair must have been Sakura.

“Yeah.” You nod.

“So why are you here?”

“Huh?”

“Y’know… Pretty girls like you don’t normally end up here without a reason. So what’s your reason?”

He says it so casually, throwing it out there as easily as a punch. He probably means nothing deep by it, probably doesn’t even realize the fact that it is a compliment.

He called you pretty.

“My sister.” You answer, finally looking away at him to look down at your hands that have settled nicely into your lap. Your cheeks feel a lot warmer than they did a second ago. You decide to blame this as a result of too many sweaty people in one basement.

“She a ring girl?”

“She’s dating a fighter here.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you dating a fighter here, too?”

You look him properly in his face after that comment, almost resisting the urge to laugh. Fear that he’ll get offended and smack you into the floor stops that reaction. Instead, you stare at him, slightly surprised, lips almost curled up into an amused smile at just how unbelievable it would be for you to date anyone like him.

“You finally did it.”

“Did what?”

“Look at me.” He holds eye contact, almost as if he’s trying to challenge you into looking away. “I don’t bite, y’know.” He smiles, showing off a surprisingly straight row of white teeth, not a single tooth missing despite the nature of his… job. “It’s against the rules.”

Yeah. Because [character], the fucking [ring name nickname], looks like the type of man who follows the rules.

#atsumu miya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #satoru gojo x reader #keiji akaashi x reader #sae itoshi x reader #tobio kageyama x reader #UGH i hate going thru my drafts #bc im like damn why didn't i finish writing these #anyway lmk ur thoughts. i have to work on comms so no plans to release these this month but perhaps june

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