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luminousbeings-crudematter · 2 months

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folie à deux

or: the toxic ex boyfriend Ghost AU

PAIRING: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

WARNINGS: || 18+ only MDNI || Toxic masculinity || Possessive & obsessive behaviour || Slut shaming || Groping || Gaslighting || Implied & referenced cheating || Mildly dubious consent

w/c: 5.7k (Read on AO3)

a/n: this was supposed to be like 5 paragraphs, so PLEASE if y'all hate it i dont want to know

It starts with a knock on your front door when you’re only half expecting to see Simon Riley.

He even knocks with a sense of entitlement, and it enrages you. Three hard raps, and that’s it. He won’t knock again. If you don’t open the door, he’ll kick it down to get to you—those were rules you’d learnt the hard way.

You mentally reinforce your motivation when you fling the door open: You’re scared he’ll break your door down, again, and this time, when they try to evict you, Simon won’t be around to terrify them into letting you stay.

How on earth you’d ever found the prick attractive is beyond you in that minute. Except, no sooner does the thought enter your mind do you dismiss it. Of course you had—and still—found him attractive. That had never been the problem.

He wore his military career on his face, much easier to see than the chest candy he bragged about but no less attractive to you–scars and burns, healing and the not-quite healed bruises plain to see on his face, a cacophony of yellows and purples. A nose that had spent more time broken than not, its slight curve most likely a combination of never having been set by a professional nor the opportunity to heal without being broken again. A thin scar dissected his lip, went all the way up the side of his face to his brow, almost like someone had taken a knife to him, carved him up like a piece of meat. You’d never asked, and it’s not like he’d ever volunteered the information.

It just sat there along with the three thousand other things he’d deposited in the chasm that stretched between the two of you.

“You…Jesus,” he breathes, and slams the door shut behind him, making you wince. “Where are you off to, then?”

“N’ wearin’ that?” He prompts again when you don’t answer, motions to your body with his chin.

You roll your eyes when he pulls you into him and plants a hard kiss on your mouth, ignoring your squirming. “Fuckin’ about to spill out, little dove.”

“Spill? Simon, I’m sewn into this dress.” You pluck at his shirt that has deliciously little give where it sits on his hard chest, leaving your palm there as a little treat for yourself. “You would know. You capable of wearing shirts your own size, or does the SAS make it mandatory to have your tits straining against them?”

When he doesn’t respond, you push away from him, and step back, crossing your arms against your chest, definitely not pushing your tits up slightly, and he mirrors your movement. He’s leaning against the wall by the front door now, blocking your exit, and you can only roll your eyes at the foreseeable display of machismo.

“Your stuff’s in the front room. Grab it and go, I have to finish getting dressed. I have plans.”

“With a pimp?”

Back when you were blissfully ignorant of Simon’s penchant for keeping you destabilised at all times, unconditionally wanting the last word, his crass words would have made you sputter and struggle to respond. Oh but you know him so much better now.

Now, the blatant transparency in his delivery just makes you laugh.

You interrupt his next words with a wave of your hand and turn to retreat to your room. “Get your shit and leave, baby.”

You hear his harsh exhale at the dismissal, and once upon a time, the repercussions of dismissing Simon in the middle of a conversation would have excited you. You used to do it to get a rise out of him, instigate him into chasing you around, fucking you silly when he caught you. Now, you just do it because you can.

“No need to be a bitch. I’ll be on my way in a second, just wanted to check on you, little dove.”

Your laugh is breathy, and you have to pull your mascara wand away from your eyes so you don’t end up stabbing yourself with it. “‘No need to be a bitch’ says the man currently being a bitch about me not telling him my plans.” Your laugh is mocking when you turn back to the mirror. “You ever tire of this routine, Simon? Because it’s tiring to me.”

Your words only make Simon’s eyes soften, and he looks at you almost indulgently, patronisingly, as though you were a child throwing a tantrum to get an adult’s attention. “Could never tire of you, little dove.”

“Stop calling me that,” you snap, but he only snorts in response.

It’s all a game to him, you know that. He makes it very clear how much amusement he derives from watching you fumble and fall, how much he gets off on the stress he gives you.

And yet, you’re drawn to him, every single time. Every single time, you play mental gymnastics to find a reason to write off his bad behaviour because, well, it’s Simon. He’s…like no one else you’ve ever known.

Your choices have always been limited between a cruel, mercurial god and inane, paltry men.

Except today. Today you hold your response back, try not to rise to the obvious challenge.

“Come on then, I’ll drive ya.”

“Are you insane?” you screech. “You’re not driving me to my date, you’re not driving me anywhere, what the fuck is wrong with you, Simon?”

A glimpse of his Adonis belt as he stretches his arms above his shoulders and cranes his neck from side to side briefly grabs your attention.

“Don’t be difficult, little dove,” he gently scolds you, and your eyes snap back to his—yours wide with incredulity, his calm and collected in that beautiful, honey brown. “What were y’gonna do, take the Tube with y’tits out like that? If the prick ain’t pickin’ you up, I’ll take ya to him.” He jerks his chin in your vanity’s direction and plops himself on your bed to watch. “Come on, love, finish yer preenin’ then.”

“Preening,” you mutter under your breath as you turn back to the mirror. “Fuckin’ weirdo.”

It’s only when you’re dabbing perfume behind your ears do you catch his eye just as he brings a cigarette up to his mouth, and you squeal. “Simon! The fuck are yo—don’t smoke in my bedroom!”

“Our bedroom—”

“What?!”

“—’n ya didn’t care before. Y’wanna share, ‘s that it, little dove?”

“Oh my god.” You turn around slowly, your hands against your lips, joined together as though in prayer. “Simon.”

“Yeah, baby.”

“You don’t live here anymore. This isn’t your flat, it’s mine. This isn’t your bedroom, it’s mine.”

Simon just continues to smoke as though he hadn’t heard you, dark eyes taking the slow, leisurely route back to meet yours. “Y’look good, baby.” His voice is hoarse, the words slow and deliberate and raspy, and…you can’t deny it. The pull he’s always exerted on you, the undeniably ruinous sirens call—you burn hotter and brighter than accretion, you’re a helpless sailor caught up in his thrall

“Simon”

“Did’ya always look so good?” The way he looks at you as though in a trance…you know he’s not listening, seeming to just be thinking out loud. When he stands up, you take an automatic step back, then cringe when the vanity hits the back of your legs. Nowhere to go to escape his looming presence. “No…not like this. Somethin’s changed.” He puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you around so you’re both facing the mirror.

The back of your neck feels particularly warm as he pushes his entire front to your back, and you can feel him there, hard and insistent against your lower back. When eyes meet in the mirror, he looks at you like you’re a puzzle for him to solve. “Nothing’s changed,” you whisper. “You’re still a dick.”

“Hmm,” he mutters, then lifts your face up with one hand around your neck, and brings his cigarette around to your lips with the other.

Your instinctive inhale makes him shift against you slightly, and your eye twitches from how good he feels pressed up against you like this. How he smells to you—that familiar mix of aniseed and icy menthol, fingers eking that potent hit of nicotine straight into you from where his fingers dig into your skin. “Definitely somethin’ different.” He pulls one strap of your dress down, and you exhale as he places one warm, lingering kiss on your exposed shoulder. “‘S good. Whatever’s different is good, little dove.”

“We can’t—,” you whisper, and his eyes glint at you with interest and arrogance through the mirror. “We can’t do this.”

“You’re so pretty all dressed up like this. Always were so pretty. So soft, and—” he inhales deeply at the spot just under your ear “—always smell so fuckin’ good.”

“You can’t,” you moan in response, but press yourself closer to him, anyway.

“But I can,” he responds gruffly. “‘Nythin’ I like, little dove. And I know y’like it too.”

“Fuck, just—” He interrupts you by giving you another hit, and this time you turn around in his arms to exhale in his face. He doesn’t even flinch. “What are you playing at, Simon? What do you want from me this time?”

Simon continues to look at your mouth as you speak, and almost as if on auto-pilot, slips his thumb into your mouth. You want to bite him for his audacity, you almost kick him in the shin, almost almost almost… But what you really end up doing is accepting it, licking the pad of his thumb and letting him push it into your mouth.

Your initials on the space between the base of his thumb and index finger catch your eye—it’s a new tattoo, and you know this entire game is a ruse to draw your attention to it—but you don’t react. You may be stupid horny for him, but you’re not stupid.

“Always such a good girl for me,” he praises, and it brightens you up on the inside, sparks hot and bright under your spine. “Tell me, love…still me you think about when you touch your pussy?”

Your harsh exhale and slightly narrowed eyes are the only indication you give of having heard him at all. In response, his thumb moves slightly deeper, sitting heavy on your tongue, and you let him.

Your stubborn silence makes him chuckle, and he stubs out his cigarette on the ashtray you (still) keep on your vanity, pushing your dress up over your ass so he can grab your cheeks possessively. The movement is so quick, so fluid that your protest turns to ash on your tongue when he finds bare skin and squeezes hard.

“Forgot somethin, did ya?”

“No.”

“No?” His hands grip you tighter and pull you harshly into him. The angle makes you grind into his cock, and you know that he’s not even half as unaffected as he pretends. “Gonna put out on the first date, then, like a slut? Don’t remember you givin’ me any the first time I—”

“It’s not my first date with him.”

Simon pulls back to look into your eyes, and you’re graced by the first genuine smile on his face all evening—the most brilliant of Rayleigh scatterings put to shame. “It is your first date, love.”

The blunt, matter-of-factness in his words gives you pause, your mind still coming to terms with what he’s just said, your heart starting to race at the barely concealed confidence about your whereabouts. “How do you—what are you saying to me right now?”

“Truth, little dove. Like I promised.”

The casual, off hand remark to one of the most devastating conversations in your life gives you whiplash and you have to physically shake your head to get rid of the feeling of something crawling up the back of your neck. You put your hands firmly on his chest and push him away, and he steps back easily.

“Are you…Simon. Are you having me followed?”

“Don’t need to. I know you, little dove.” He takes another step back from you and cocks his head at your dazed expression. “Put some knickers on. The white ones, y’know ‘em.” When you don’t move, he motions towards your underwear drawer with an expectant expression—as though you’re frozen because you’ve forgotten where they are rather than because you’ve just learnt that your ex boyfriend’s stalking you.

When he crosses his arms, you’re jolted to action. In a daze, you pick up the first pair your hands grab and pull them on. He thrusts your purse at you, and leads you out your front door with his hand clasped tight around yours.

You wish you could say that your ex boyfriend driving you to a date with another man is the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to you, but that’s not realistic for a life lived around Simon Riley.

***

The drive is silent, but one big hand remains on your inner thigh. His fingers are so long that they almost touch the seat on either side of your leg. It feels invasive but it’s also familiar, so you don’t say anything. Classic— he never had to try hard to get what he wanted from you.

When he asks you for a smoke, you light one up for him and stick it into the corner of his waiting mouth, and he kisses your fingertips as they retreat. You still don’t say anything. Instead, your eyes stay determinedly on your initials tattooed on his skin, his warm hand almost a brand on your thigh, and you think about your life with him in the .

The implication that things were normal in the before is wildly misleading, and a genuine disservice to the shit he’d put you through.

Once upon a time, you’d been delusional about your place in Simon’s world; now it just leaves a bad taste in your mouth. He threw special forces and taskforce and lads need me in your face every opportunity he’d gotten, and worse. Simon Riley was not a man who did or could be convinced to do something he didn’t want to—and you’d hardly ever asked for any explanations from him but still, the excuses were on the tip of his tongue, ready to be flung at you at Mach speed.

You’d bargained with yourself for weeks—oscillating between wanting to proactively end the relationship yourself or allowing its inevitable heat death. He was one of a kind. No one had ever made you feel like he had. No one had fucked you like he had.

No one had fucked you over like he had either, but on good days, you show yourself some grace and let that thought slide.

***

You find yourself falling into old bad habits easily—you wait inside the car until he’s on your side, opening your door for you and practically lifting you out of his car.

The warmth of his hands seeps through the material of your dress, through the skin on your hips, superheating the bones underneath. He squeezes the flesh there appreciatively, and though his expression remains hidden to you, you can safely guess the smirking just by the creased skin by his eyes.

“I never want to see you again.”

The words make Simon pause. He considers you for a second, the smirk never dropping. “Go’n, give us a kiss, then, if this is the last time.”

“I would never,” you insist, finger poking at his hard chest, and he retreats from you, puts his hands up in mock-surrender. “You’re a manipulative bastard, Simon,” you hiss at him. “And I’m going on this date.” With your piece said, you walk away from him.

“Never stopped ya, little dove,” he calls out, a hint of an aggravating laugh in his words.

You flip him off without even turning around. “Drop dead, Simon.”

To your great disappointment, your words don’t inspire the heavens to smite him where he stands immediately, and when you quickly shoot one last look back at him over your shoulder, he stands against his car, arms crossed, looking for all the world like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Asshole.

It wasn’t even that Simon was a bad boyfriend to you—though he was certainly the fucking worst—it was the fact that a) he was a bad person and b) you’d become a bad person by osmosis.

Case in point: you wanted to leave your date mid-meal, battling the intrusive thought of just putting your drink down and walking out the front door, but you couldn’t even say why. Your date had kindly acquiesced when you’d insisted on the worst table on the floor. The one overlooking the car park. The window overlooking the only car parked there—the massive black one, with illegally tinted windows and a suspiciously missing owner.

At least the bar was nice. Great ambience, dim lighting and pretty interiors, it should have been the perfect first date. Your date himself was fine too—nice enough with a sweet smile he flashed at you, politely having taken to talking at you when you’d made it clear with your apathy that talking with you wasn’t going to happen.

After just two drinks, you start to have flashbacks—even an hour spent in Simon’s company clearly manifesting as literal madness—which was disconcerting by itself, but the uncharacteristic subject matter has you really worried. Every time you blink, you see Simon’s face…or his cock…and when your date asks if you’d like to share dessert, you answer, “Simon…” before hearing yourself, and feeling the heat of shame dance on your cheeks. Your date just looks confused.

A quick glance outside the window shows the empty car park and…nothing else. No car.

Had he fuckin’ left?

The thought incenses you, and the irrational nature of the anger makes you feel even more shame. Why should you care? When had he ever done what you’d expected of him? And when had he ever been there for you when you’d needed it.

Fuck it, you think.

Maybe you were finally free of Simon and his toxic, shameless, unbreakable hold on your life. Maybe it was time to move on.

You allow yourself a satisfied smile when, in what feels like divine approval of your plan, your date offers to take you home.

***

There are cracks in your ceiling that you’d never noticed before.

You resist the urge to wince, then try to moan but give up when it gets stuck in your throat, and your date misinterprets your sigh of boredom and discomfort as one of pleasure, choosing to go down on you with more enthusiasm than before. Things could not be worse for you—the man between your legs is clearly in need of a compass and a map and trying so hard that you feel guilty about the whole thing—but you’re determined to tolerate it. So that the point is made.

When your date finally leaves, your shaky smile and poorly concealed look of relief convinces neither of you of a second date. You suppose you should be grateful that he left without a fuss, but you’re just relieved that he’s gone. You’re contemplating—holding your head in your hands while your elbows rest on the kitchen counter—when you hear him.

“This is pathetic, even for you.” You turn around, and yep. It’s him alright. Sitting at your dinner table, your flimsy chair all but invisible behind his massive frame. “Breaking in, Simon? Seriously?”

“Y’gave me a key, little dove.”

“Yeah. When we were dating. A key that you’d returned?”

When there is neither a response, nor any change to his posture, you turn around and start to pour yourself a glass of water. Then change your mind and grab two whiskey tumblers and your decanter. “Pathetic,” you repeat. “How long were you planning this?”

His sudden breath on the back of your neck makes you exhale harshly, and he steadies your trembling hands by placing his on yours. Together, you pour two glasses of whiskey, but his hands don’t leave yours even when you’re done.

“How was the date?”

“You tell me, Simon.”

“Wasn’t invited, was I?”

“It didn’t stop you.”

He places a small kiss behind your ear in response. “No.” His hands knead at your breasts and your head falls back to his shoulder with a sigh, and he grinds into you. “Feel that? What even your fake little noises do to me?”

“You were listening?” The thought is…unbearably hot, and you stubbornly refuse to examine it any further in your mind.

“You belong with me, little dove, you know this. You’ve always belonged to me. All of you. Every single inch. Where would I go?”

You reach behind you to touch him, and he’s thick and warm to the touch, even through the layers of fabric, and it’s familiar, it’s all so familiar to you.. “This is fucked up. You were here listening when another man fucked me?”

In a quick succession of lithe, almost impossibly quick movements, he’s picked you up and placed you on your kitchen counter, one glass of whiskey shattering on the floor. “Made your point, baby?”

Your robe is off your shoulders and pooling around your waist in a second, and Simon doesn’t even bother hiding his smirk when he pulls off your panties and pockets them. You don’t bother protesting. It even feels like trouble when he runs a single finger over the seams of your cunt—you’re damningly wet and if you had enough withal to curse your body out for it, you would.

“You've got such a pretty pussy, little dove,” Ghost says as he fingers you, his voice half-muffled because he's pressing a possessive kiss to your forehead. “And so wet baby, you’re dripping on my fingers. All of it fo' me? Or was it that twat, hm?”

You're seething inside, raging that your plan backfired like this. “It was him,” you say, before you can help yourself. “You heard him fuck me, yeah?”

“Fuck you?” Simon’s chuckle is dark and ruinous. “He didn’t fuck you, baby. He just stretched you out for me. Good man. Saves me the work, innit.”

Before you can react, before you can breathe, he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, picks up his glass of whiskey in his other hand, and brings you to your bedroom. Fuck, your sheets are still rumpled, dress and bra strewn on the floor, sandals sitting like a death trap of heel and straps by the foot of your bed. The room even smells of sex and the cologne your date had worn—it’s disorienting. You almost feel bad. Almost.

But…Simon’s presence is all over your bedroom too. The smell of his aftershave lingered in the air, noticeable if you closed your eyes and breathed in deep. Other signs too—the faint bitterness of his cigarette from earlier that evening, it’s corpse in the ashtray on your vanity. When he sets his drink down on your nightstand, he sets it on the coaster you keep there—they’re strewn on almost every surface on your flat. Mementoes from Simon from different countries he’d go to on deployment.

“Told you he fucked me,” you say, cheekily—trying to dissuade your mind from leading you towards sentiment—and get a smack on you ass for your trouble.

“‘Course, little dove,” Simon drawls in response. “‘N you enjoyed it too, yeah? Tryin’ t’make me jealous. Took him to the same place we used to go, huh?” Another smack on your backside, this one hard enough to make you gasp. “Think I’d forgotten, baby? Fucked you in that car park, didn’t I?”

“Were you jealous?”

“Why should I be?” He sets you down gently on the bed so you’re sitting upright, then takes a sip of his whiskey. “Y’want this.”

“I didn’t think you were giving me much of a choice.”

“I’m not.” He takes another sip, and when he leans forward to kiss you, the whiskey floods into your mouth, rich and smoky and bitter. He continues to kiss you and you have to swallow around his tongue, which makes him kiss you harder. He’s a bully in every aspect of his life, and kissing you is no different. His fingers clamp around your cheeks and you have no choice but to kiss him back. Even in this he dominates you, trying to win even where there is no fight to be fought.

When he pulls away, your heart throbs at how he looks through the lights of the street outside pouring in through your window. You’ve seen his face before, you’re one of the trusted few that can say they know what Simon Riley looks like, but it’s been a while since you’ve seen him like this. The harsh lights from outside almost soften where they kiss the harsh angles of his face, where the sharp line of his clenched jaw disappears behind his ears, accentuating his thick neck.

He’s beautiful and cruel and bad for you and every adjective you can think of under the sun.

“Y’want this,” he repeats.

“I want this.”

And then Simon moves so suddenly. There’s no preparing for it, no accounting for speed that has no build up—one second you’re sitting upright looking up at him the next you’re on your back and he’s hovering over you, fingers making quick work of his zipper before, in one push, he’s buried in you. Your breath feels like it’s literally been punched out of your chest. He’s so deep in you, you can feel him in your throat—he allows you one deep breath before he’s got a large hand wrapped around your throat. The one with your tattoo on it.

The thought of it incites something foreign deep in your belly, low and simmering hot—you can’t believe he’s tattooed your name on his hand after telling you that he didn’t think you were what he’d wanted.

You can’t imagine your expression right now, but he tightens his fingers around your throat and it drags your attention back to him. He’s gritting his teeth, his jaw clamped tightly shut while he grinds his pelvis into yours, each thrust driving you further and further away from him and towards the centre of the bed. You don’t even understand the movement of his hips—you’re displaced and jostled from the sheer power of his thrusts—but the motion itself feels like it’s more of an up and down motion, dragging against your walls, punching into your G spot. When your head falls back on a low moan, he jerks your body to alertness just by your throat, and you clench at the feat of strength even when he’s buried in you as far as he can go.

Simon groans in response, the noise sounding like it tears through his throat on its way out, but you’re helpless to do anything at all, just trying to breathe through the foreign sensations inside you right now, clamp tighter and tighter around him, threatening to break. You’ve given up trying to look up at him anymore, the pleasure making you squeeze your eyes shut, one hand intertwined with his by your head, the other clawing at his forearm.

“Shit, baby, hold on, fuck, jus’ let me—” He moves to adjust you, grabbing one thigh to spread you open, push himself deeper inside you, when he freezes.

“Wha—Simon, what—”

“The fuck is this?” His voice is pitched lower than usual, dark and dangerous. You follow his line of sight and he’s transfixed, eyes unblinking, looking at a spot on your inner thigh. You know what he’s seeing, and in the midst of everything that’s happened, everything that’s about to happen, you wonder if you’re seeing the evidence of the existence of a just God.

“You weren’t…you weren’t meant to see it. It’s from ages ago…” He reaches out a slightly trembling hand towards it, stops inches away from it—and oh this is better than anything you could’ve imagined—before he brushes two reverent fingers over the little skull you have tattooed there. “Simon?”

When Simon looks back at you, he seems more determined, somehow. Like the final part of a puzzle has clicked into place, somehow, and a decision has been made.

This time when he moves, it’s deeper, more powerful but equally as deliberate. The hand around your throat moves to your face, brushing sweaty strands away from it, and framing the entire side of your face where it rests. “Got my mark on you, yeah? Want t’keep me, is that it?”

“I want…want to keep you,” you nearly whine at him, and his hips kick up, hammer into you, in and out, in and out— “Want to keep you Simon. Want to be yours.”

He bends over you, his grip on your thigh unyielding, long fingers digging into the tattoo on your skin. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I—” He uses your neck to muffle his own sounds for a second and then leans to kiss you. But it’s more than that. You feel Simon’s surrender in that kiss—the acceptance of the inevitable, your months of torturous longing for your torturer finding release—and when you come, you bite down hard on his lip.

It feels like your body is hot enough to melt the world into soft, sepia tones around you, and you don’t even understand what he’s doing to your body right now as he fucks you through your orgasm. He readjusts your hips as you come, and the slightest brush of the coarse hair at the base of his cock against your clit makes you vibrate from the shock of what feels like your second orgasm bleeding into your first.

And when he comes, he slams his hips into you like he’s trying to crawl inside of you. His groan is long and tortured, and for a man who’s usually silent when he fucks, the sound is delicious. You never want him to stop. “Fuckin’ shit,” he murmurs, and traps you as he collapses on top of you.

In the aftermath, there is quiet.

Simon lifts his head, once, to try to feel his way to the glass of whiskey on your nightstand, all while kissing you deeply. Turns out, fucked out of his mind Simon is clumsy as hell, and so you grab it for him, draining it yourself before offering him the empty glass.

“Fuckin’ whore,” he mutters, unimpressed, before burying his face in your neck.

“Says the man who slept with the entire British army in a matter of six months.” You kiss his sweaty hair and his grip on your hips tightens. “Bunch of slags.”

“Don’t call my sergeant a slag.”

“Your serg—” you gasp, feeling your restart its pounding in its cage. “Not Johnny! You slept with MacTavish? He fuckin—he fuckin’ offered to meet me for coffee so many times when we were broken up! I thought he was being nice!”

“Was bein’ nice, innit. Lookin’ out for his CO’s girl.”

Your head falls back to the bed as you stare up at the ceiling again. “This is messed up.” His casual tone feels like a barb, reopens old wounds and threatens to ignite a fresh wave of hostility inside you. But before you can stew in your bitterness any longer, he kisses the side of your neck and moves off of you.

“Can’t keep doing this, little dove.” He says, gathering your clothes from where they’re strewn all over your room.

You get up on your elbows and cock your head, feigning innocent confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Gonna have twats all over town stretchin’ you out fo’ me before I fuck you?”

“Why? You offering to put the graft in yourself?”

“Maybe,” he mumbles, and when he stands up to face you, he’s got a cig hanging off the corner of his mouth. “Y’got a light around here somewhere, can’t find mine.”

You roll your eyes, reaching over to the nightstand to grab one and throwing it at him. He catches it deftly, and lights up his cigarette. “What’s next for you then, Simon Riley? Off to the pub to find the next victim for the evening? Send me a recording of when you fuck her in the disgusting toilet?”

“Victim? Shit baby, give me ten, we’ll go again,” he says, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

“You’re staying?”

He leans forward, smushes your face with his large hand. “You got me inked on you.” You squirm away from him and he lets you go.

“It’s just a skull, Simon. Not my initials on your hand.” When his eyes narrow, you gasp theatrically and your hand flies up to your chest. “Or was I not meant to see that?” You lean up to pluck the cigarette from his fingers and take a long drag. “Obnoxious, by the way.”

He leans forward and kisses you, hard. You inadvertently end up blowing smoke in his mouth, but he doesn’t move, kissing you until you melt. “Love you, little dove. You're a massive bitch, though.”

“Pot meet kettle,” you whisper against his mouth.

You know what they say about history repeating itself. You’ve been through this cycle before, you and Simon. And you know what he promised you when he fucked you—he may have asked you if you’d wanted to keep him, but you hear what Simon doesn’t say. And what he doesn’t say is that you don’t have a choice in any of this. Simon operates like a bully, thinks like a bully because he is one. Like with most other things, Simon brute forces your relationship, moulds and bends and twists to his liking, does not care if anything breaks. You have no doubt that in two or three weeks’ time he’ll be across the world from you, bouncing someone else on his cock but it hardly matters. You’ll get your lick back. It’s what he’s taught you, afterall.

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tgcg · 8 months

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ms paint. you know her. u used her age 8 to make loads of rainbow ovals all over the canvas and then scramble it with selection tool. now u will know her true powers with my handyrandy tips under the readmore. some will be pretty basic and others are very special.

this post has 8 cool trix to learn for you. enjoy and i may do another in the future if i remember/learn more stuff

some of it might be common knowledge. but its got some deep cuts. all tips have gifs to show process easily.

🙂 enjoy and i hope this encourages you to fuck around in mspaint more

soundtrack for this post (loop it while you learn for advanced learning experience)

TIP 1) the right click trick

left and right mouse click correspond to col1 and col2 respectively, which u can see in the top bar. this applies to all brushes and the fill tool like above. when using shapes col2 will be the fill colour (if you have solid fill selected). right clicking with shape maker will reverse the colours use on the shape.

TIP 2) right click eraser

this one is extremely helpful for lineart or add shading. the eraser always uses col2. so your eraser can technically be any colour. but here's where you get powers: right clicking with eraser will only erase onto col1, with col2.

TIP 3) transparent selection change a guy destination

the beloved transparent selection tool works based on what is selected as col2. so long as you have the correct colour as col2 you can make any image transparent and put it on top of anything else. and yes this works with photo bg as you can see.

TIP 4) the gradience

this one is a little more complex. you want to start off with any canvas size, and make as many diagonal coloured bands as you want. (protip: holding down shift makes a perfectly diagonal line with line tool)

then you need to resize the canvas to a width of 1px (make sure you resize by pixels, and do not maintain aspect ratio). then resize again back to its original width (or a different width i cant stop you). you will have your lovely gradience.

TIP 5) superimposter

so. you got a cool gradient and wanna put a guy on it. heres what i do:

i open a 2nd mspaint with same canvas size and draw whatever i want on there. i then pick a completely unrelated colour to my entire piece, and set that as the bg. you could use white, pink, geen, whatever you want as long as it doesnt appear somewhere else in ur drawing. copy the guy.

go back to your gradient tab. ensure that col2 is set as that bg colour you picked (lilac for me). have "transparent selection" enabled. paste your guy in. cue fanfare

TIP 6) advanced superimposter

the great thing about this method is u can put multiple gradients in multiple areas of the image. this is where it gets all japanese printmaking type of shit. ukiyo-esque

all you need to do is make another canvas with a new gradient, ensure col2 is set as the colour you want to replace, then paste your original piece onto the new gradient. now my guy has a soft fade. you can do this as much as you want. (you could even make a canvas with a texture or photo and paste your drawing onto there)

TIP 7) "sketch layer"

so as you now know, col2 is what is removed when you click "transparent selection". which means you can also remove any instance of a colour from ur drawing. which means you can have a unique colour for sketch layer and remove it from the drawing later. i admittedly dont do this but it is a great trick to have.

now combine this with lowering your dpi for smoother lines. may seem obvious but it helps. its like a free stabiliser whenever u want.

TIP 8) rainbow art

now this is where you can get dizzee rascal "bonkers". check out my small and shitty rainbow trick. you can select anything and hold down shift, then drag with left mouse, to turn that selection into its own brush. i even did it with a guy. and you can of course do this with a photo as well.

🙂well that it for now. hope you liked it thanks for reading now back to your regularly scheduled tgcg programming

#randytime #mspaint guide #ms paint guide #tutorial #ms paint tutorial #mspaint tutorial #ms paint

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tofupixel · 2 months

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Do you have any advice on how to get into pixeling larger scenes, or how you go about the process? I dabble in pixel art occasionally and am interested in pursuing it more, but whenever I try large scenes I always tend to fall flat

Love your art, by the way!

thank you!

my first step i always go get a ton of references. i think if you are struggling with pixel scenes it can help you to get some pixel art references too. for example if you arent sure how to render a tree, look it up on pixeljoint hall of fame im sure you can find something that inspires you.

this is the moodboard for my current knight crowley/statue azi piece im working on (software is called pureref btw. i have a dedicated monitor just for this but you can do transparency and overlay it if you lack space)

i think this is mostly preference but i always begin working with large areas of value/colour rather than an actual line sketch

i usually only save the wip process if im sending it to clients, so here is an example of how i worked through a commission

at this point im just going for the vibes. colour is more important and shape/size and having random pixels everywhere doesnt matter cos u can just remove them later !!

its kind of an anomaly/doomsday thing so i wanted the red sky and chaos all over

i work really quickly at this point and try for energy

just beginning to work my way through and detail things up. im still changing things around and adding more stuff in different places. its digital art so you can change things however you like, just keep moving forward

final ver sent to client after some revisions. pixel art is 99% rendering so you just need to keep pushing forward

i also want to say i did like 3+ years of sporadic studies. mostly studio ghibli and shishkin. if you have someone who inspires you you can study their work and figure out how they do it.

it cant be overstated how many of these i have done lol and im still not even close to where i want to be (its a process)

anyway sorry for the long post but you really should go for it. ive done the same concept like 3 times over my career (so far) cos i enjoyed it and want to come back to it now that im a little better. so u dont have to make it perfect the first time but doing it is better than not doing it!

sorry for the long post but i kinda got carried away anyway lmk if u want more specific tips i like talking about pixel art :--3 GL with your art

#qna #pixel art #pixel art tutorial #art tutorial #tutorial

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thedeathwitchescats · 6 months

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Okay, review time!! If you are one of the oddballs who thinks you cant be critical of something you love I suggest you stop reading now before I ruffle your feathers. Iron flame, second in the empyrean series. I am gonna start with what I was not a fan of and then go into the shit I adored.

1) what in the actual fuck was the pacing of this book?? I can tell you what, it was non existent. There was none. Where I thought there was a lot of filler in the last book there was none in this one. We got snap shots of conversations and then *boom* more plot flew at you. The timeline of this book greatly suffered for it i think bc we end only a couple weeks, if that, after threshing, which happens sometimes in October. This book was actually so wild with times.

2) while it was a spectacular cliff hanger, xaden becoming venin pisses me off. Especially if Rebecca yarros isnt going to have him tell violet. Like if that small tid bit of a conversation we got wasnt him telling vi that he was venin then the entire romantic conflict of this book was rendered pointless and their going to be having the same fucking fight for the rest of the series and at rhat point I give up.

3) I understand that the revolution is trying to take down basgaith and make the world better or whatever the fuck but can someone actually formulate a real plan for me?? Because I feel like their mission is just, giving violet and xaden something to be pissed at each other about.

4) the entirety of cats character. I get that she was set up as a spin on the typical jealous ex. Like having her be bitter about xaden picking violet over her but OH WAIT it wasnt actually about the man it was about the crown, oohh not like other girls. Im a writer too I see the point. I dont care. I think it was trashy. If you wanted her to be a bitter spiteful ex then have her be a bitter spiteful ex, the whole crown thing was shallow.

OKAY haters your time is up now onto the shit that made my heart hurt with joy and sadness

1) xadens arc in this book. I really liked that he went from "transparency is never gonna happen" to losing his fucking mind over violet and giving her everything. I love feral men and he qualifies. I think his arc was really well done and i liked it.

2) I appericiate that violet stuck to her guns for this book. She wouldnt let xaden off without a fight and I loved that. She made him bow and scrape and I was eating it up. It was spectacular.

3) the throne room scene. Violet on the throne. "Im making a temporary point not a lasting vow of maschocism" xaden being feral.

4) that gets its own point actually, just xaden being completely feral this entire book healed a part of my soul.

5) andarna's little speech at the end where she was like "I waited for you violet" made me ugly cry. That was just so hopelessly good I loved it. Andarna in general heals my heart but that part was just *chefs kiss*

6) tarin being completely and utterly ready to eat people this entire book. Just, at every turn "I want lunch their pissing me off " was spectacular

7) every scene their squad was in. Rihannon, violet, sawyer and ridoc are my roman empire. Their bond is so amazing. The fact that they launched a rescue mission for violet. Rihannon being ready to kill xaden at every turn. Ridoc being so platonically and adorably in love with violet. Just- augh happy cries happy cries. I love it all. Their so special tbh.

8) I love xaden actually, just, the whole book every scene hes in lives in my brain.

9) I liked that we saw a small bit of violet being feral this book too. I hope that we get more of that in future books. I want more of violet losing her fucking mind. Hot, badass women covered in blood

10) Liam. Fucking Liam. When violet was kidnapped and Liam was there. Now, do I logically understand that he was a hallucination, yes, do i care?? No. He was a gift from Maleck I will be hearing no critiques on that. It was so fucking sweet and amazing. I love violet and Liam and Liam being dead so horribly breaks my heart. I loved Liam. Liams death lives rent free in my skull.

#i might add more to this later #please #i am begging yall #dont get weird #i am allowed to love this book and have critical opinions abt it #if i start getting threats about my fandom opinions again i might lose my mind #haters get fucked #anyways #i need the third book right now and the fact that i wont get it until next year kills me a little #i loved iron flame #i loved fourth wing #xaden riorson #violet sorrengail #violet and xaden #fourth wing #iron flame #book review #iron flame review #🪓

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thecynthh · 24 days

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end game - M.S

synopsis - through matt and y/n’s life both of them never thought they would be hooking up, but what happens when everyone finds out about them and it blows up in their face.

2.6k words

notes - IM NOT HATING ON MADI I JUST NEEDED SOMEONE TO USE FOR STORY PURPOSES. (im her biggest fan dont cancel me)

(synopsis for a new series that i’m working on is featured)

this is for @annamcdonalds67 contest!! i saw the post and saw how many taylor swift songs were there and this was one of my favourite ones out there and i got insanely inspired. please share some love to anna as well bc she deserves it for organizing this !

warnings - smut->angst, small matt sub, riding, oral (fem receiving), childhood best friends to fwb to lovers, badboy!matt x goodgirl!reader

for lacysturniolo and her amazing work and dedication to her fans, i’ll look up to you, forever and always

matt barely made it through the door before his arms were strangling me in a death inducing kiss. in my whole 17, almost 18, years of life i never expected in my life did i think my childhood best friend would be the one crushing me with his lips. we’ve both dated around but through it all we ended up here.

“fuck, matt” the breathy name escapes from my mouth feeling him move down to my neck leaving stinging hickeys with his talented mouth. “god im glad your parents aren’t here, don’t think my good kid image would keep up if they heard you.”

“you’re so inappropriate matt” my eyes roll listening to him rub in how much my parents love matt. “come on, i don’t like the idea of you fucking me on any other surface than in my room especially in my parents house.”

“whatever you say princess,” the small smirk he’s always had since he was 12 still looms over me as i lead him towards the grand staircase. he followed very close behind me keeping his arms and mouth on my neck.

it doesn’t take long till he’s holding my arms above my head with his fingers intertwined with mine. “matt, fuck, please can you just fuck me now.”

“you don’t get to be impatient, you called.”

“and you came.”

“you are about to as well.” i wanted to wipe that smirk clean off his face if his body didn’t feel so right pressed up against mine.

we haven’t told anyone about us yet, not even nick or chris. we both knew it would only make things worse, and i was alright with keeping it a secret. i’ve spent enough of my closeted and innocent. I'm a teenager, teens are supposed to do this type of thing. teens may hook up but maybe not with their childhood best friends

his mouth trailed down from my neck, to my sternum, all the down to between my thighs before he yanked my legs down to come closer to the edge of the bed.

3RD PERSON POV

matt’s hands never seem to have left y/n's body, exploring every last inch of her body. her arms, legs and heart were his. matt spends no time wasted connecting his lips to her clothed heat, within seconds she’s shimming her pants and underwear off.

there was a small knock on the door with an awaiting friend, madi was there to meet up with y/n to pick up the homework she had missed that day. without an answer from the door, madi looks around the house through windows and cracks in the blinds.

only seeing a light shown through from the living room, she wanders off to the balcony and fire escape on the side of the house. it was only a flight of stairs and a half till madi was on par with the balcony, it was a short climb till she was onto the balcony. the only thing blocking madi and the couple was a transparent creme coloured cloth with embroidered rose accents.

y/n’s loud moans escaped flooding her bedroom, escaped through the window. the curtains sway giving madi an opening to see matt fully down on her friend and her enjoying it. madi’s mouth gapes open as ashe slides her phone out of her pocket.

the camera app opens quickly as she swipes to record.

the small blip of her phone pipes up as she capturns the full scene on camera, the summer sunset gave a yellow glow to the recording. matt rips off his shirt with one arm dipping right back to y/n’s core.

madi’s only thought was to share it to her best friend, nick. little did she know nick wasn’t the only one she sent it to, but her homework group. madi continued to record through the small slit of the window.

science 4 group

madi 🩷

* view one attachment *

HOLY SHIT LOOK MATT AT Y/N’S HOUSE!!!!

Y/N’S POV

“matt, matt, matt” the release came to me in an instant. “come on baby girl, you did so well. you ready?” the sound of his belt come undone only made me hotter. before another word could be exchanged i grab his shoulder pulling him down to the bed rolling on top of him.

“i’ll ride you till your dick is limp and your begging me to stop.” matt’s reaction only made me feel even more aroused. “anything for you baby,” matt said copying my tone of voice.

stationing my legs on either side of his i bend down to kiss him, pressing my pebbled nipples onto his bare skin, slowly grinding down onto his raging hard on.

his whines only intensify the burning seer of his skin touching mine. my hand follows in suit with my hips feeling every last vein of his dick through his boxers. “a-ah!” matt whines due to me pressing my finger into his slit.

pushing his boxers down his dick springs out slapping against his happy trail. “please please please y/n please.”

“please what, pretty boy?” i mock feeling the surge of power flow through me.

“please fuck me,” he whimpered out. for such a bad boy exterior, he sure doesn’t act like it now.

without waiting another second for him to say something else i sink down onto his throbbing dick feeling him fill me up so well. “mhhm, matty you feel so good.”

“ugh, only for you b-baby.” matt’s barely keeping it together, while i bounce up and down on his cock. speeding up every second. i begin to grind onto his pelvis as i slam down onto him with his body slightly grazing my clit in the best way possible.

“matty, im a-about to c-cum. do it with me.” his hands sneak onto my love handles as i lean up against him again, he attaches his mouth to my nipple that was dangling in front of him. his hips snap up and down, pushing insanely deep inside me. “m-matt!” a loud pornographic moan comes out of my mouth feeling the knot in my stomach break, feeling a huge relief. he follows soon after letting out a guttural grunt.

i roll down beside him, both of our deep breaths fill the room. “fuck, oh my god.” i breathed out, heaving my chest. i turn to face him, putting my hand against his chest and my head onto the arm that was stretched out near me. my curtains move and sway with the blow of my fan as i see a shadow fall off of my window, it must've just been an animal.

“i don’t think i can walk,” i confess feeling him look over to me. my hand travels to feel his scruff that he’s been growing out the past few weeks, it’s never gotten that long but it’s still very apparent. “hmm, lemme take care of you okay? we can even get mcdonald’s, im fine driving out to the further one if you're scared of people to see us.” he combs his hand through my hair, tugging a little relieving some heat and pressure my head has collected.

he pushes himself up and goes to the bathroom, turning on the shower and coming back to retrieve me.

this whole day it felt like people were staring at me left and right, i haven’t even been in the building for more than 20 minutes and i’ve had three people quickly lose eye contact with me when they were the one staring first.

i haven’t matt yet but i was really hoping we would be able to meet up at our usual spot, im snapped out of my trances feeling someone's hand on my shoulder squeezing it a little. i jump a little whipping my head towards the rest of the hands body, thank goodness it’s just nick. “babes, we gotta talk.” he said in a monotone voice, “why what’s up?”

“just give me a second, stop moving.” i listen to him and stop in my tracks seeing nothing wrong with today but the staring. “okay now what happened last night,” nick said now holding me down with both hands.

“well if you must know, my parents are out of town, like you knew and i stayed home studying before going out for mcdonald’s.” the lie slipped out from my mouth with ease hoping to keep matt and my secret a secret for a little longer.

“okay then maybe it isnt that serious…” nick trailed off, his shoulders were very visibly tense, not letting off since he caught up to me. “what are you talking about? but come on lemme at least go to my locker.” he reluctantly let’s go knowing i’m stronger than him.

“y/n wait– just know i have no clue if its true or if it's even you.” he says following in suit with me. “nick, still no clue what you are talking about.” my locker lock clicks a few times before i'm able to get it open.

a large barrage of papers fall out of my locker all having the same image pasted on them. my mouth drops open as i turn my head to nick. he picks one up from the top of my locker, unfolding it and making a sour face to it. “what? what is it?”

he slowly hands it to me, folding it back up before i get ahold of it.

my heart dropped.

it was a grainy picture of me riding matt last night, his hands on my hips and my face looking at him with pure lust. it was taken through my window and luckily you couldn’t see much of matt’s face and next to none of mine. but people knew, everyone knew it was me.

picking up a few other copies, some of them have the words slut and whore written on them in large words. if they printed a picture it must’ve been everywhere online, i cannot stand being here another minute.

stuffing a couple copies into my bag i storm out of the building feeling tears stinging my eyes, y/n how could you let this happen? what’s going to happen when harvard finds out about this? there goes your life, your friends, your boyfriend and your future. quadruple kill.

i sit in my car and just drive, drive to the only place that’ll bring me any kind of peace at this time. it was only a 3 minute drive from the school to the large forest that surrounded the school. i parked my car on the slightly wet gravel, hearing the crunch of the rocks beneath the tires.

i walked and walked till the trees seemed to clear a bit, the grass was wet and squished under my shoes. brunette hair peaks from behind a tree, it was like the picture was being painted in front of me this whole time. matt came here too, he came to where we met the first time.

he stumbled into the forest after getting chased by a couple of guys once he tried to start a fight.

something brushed by the bushes alerting me, a boy in an oversized hoodie over his stained red white tee. jeans scuffed and a little dirty as he flops down on the grass in front of me. i can hear him panting as his chest rose and fell with deep breaths.

he tilts his head to finally see me, i still sit there frozen with my book in hand slowly reaching for my keys being cautious incase he tries to go for me next. “i see, you know. im not gonna hurt you. i would never hit a girl.” his words are slow and very unconvincing. “do you talk? he asked, glancing at me again. he finally sat up and came closer to me, my hand clutches the house keys even harder as he steps plop in front of me.

his body collides with the tree as he sits next to me, his sweet and salty cologne fills my senses, feeling it cloud my thoughts. he takes the book from my hands and closes it looking around at it.

“everything has changed by cynthia atlan, we crave love so much we would trade anything for it, including ourselves. caleb and cam grew up together, had their first kiss together but still haven’t thought about getting together. when highschool life takes a horrible turn the two become separated and distant, caleb doesn’t wanna let cam go but life takes turns and loops. how are they able to navigate hormones, relationships and life? sounds like a hoot.” his sarcastic voice says otherwise.

“this caleb guy doesn’t sound like he really deserved her huh…” he flips through the pages quickly glancing at a couple words per page.

“well, i guess i should go, but i’ll see you around here i hope.” his smile beamed brightly as he pushed himself up and looked back at me.

“hm, maybe” it comes out almost as a whisper. his face lights up as he takes my words as an accomplishment. “yeah, i’ll see you around here, tomorrow.”

he never gave me my book back before he left and i didn’t even realise it. i guess that’s one way to make me come back

“matt?” i get out between choked sobs. i didn’t even need to see his red eyes and face to tell he’s also been crying.

he peered over to where i was looking up and down before attempting to wipe away his tears and sadness. i didn’t think twice before joining him.

his brown hair is tousled by him running his hand through it many times and his tear stained eyes tell more than what he wished.

“y/n i-i’m so s-sorry.” his tears spilt once more making any effort of wiping them away futile. he wrapped his arms around something and hugged it tight. it was my book he stole from me when we first met. “i’m so so so fucking sorry i’m such an idiot.”

“matt, please it wasn’t your fault. but i am terrified, i don’t want to ever go back to school.” my voice cracks while trying to get through that sentence. matt doesn’t even utter another word before he tugs me into him, straddling him as he wraps his arms around me in a tight hug.

“i’m so sorry y/n, i didn’t wanna face anyone after i left. when i walked in everyone was applauding and people shook my hand, i had no clue why until chris and nick texted me about it.”

his pure sincerity makes me suffocate him a little more not wanting anyone else around but him. he puts a hand around my cheek guiding it to him to kiss, i get a good look of his equally dishevelled face.

“we are so fucked.” i giggle a little thinking about how much a shit show this will be when we get back.

“is this what they mean in everything has changed that high school life would take a bad turn? because i’m happy to go through it if it means we get our happy ending. you’re my end, end game.”

“yes matt, this is everything. we are the happy ending. we are end game” my quivering lips connect with his.

#sturniolo triplets #syn speaks #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matthew bernard sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #smut #sturniolos #Spotify

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lovely-keii · 10 months

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being their sibling

characters: kageyama tobio, miya twins, iwaizumi hajime, hitoka yachi, ushijima wakatoshi

a/n: comeback?! 🫣

KAGEYAMA TOBIO

he thinks everything you do is normal, it skews his perspective of the real world. you’re a great painter? suddenly he’s asking his seatmate why her drawings look like that. you sing well? he tells some kid with an average voice that he can’t sing. you’re rich? suddenly he’s calling someone’s car cheap.

obedient, whether or not you’re younger than him. “get me a glass of water, tobio” “ok.” // “my feet hurt, tobio.” “put them on my lap, ill massage your feet.” honestly, really reasonable and kind

he’s so loud when he gets annoyed though. stubs his toe on the coffee table and the next day, you receive a noise complaint. swears a lot too. god forbid he loses one of his volleyball equipment. he’s going to absolutely flip the house upside down.

kageyama is so transparent with you, literally almost no boundaries. he’ll literally go into your room and is confused why you tell him to get out. “why? is there something you need to hide?” somehow knows your password always “why can’t i use your phone? you can use mine.” bro has nothing to hide, hes too comfortable around you

just dont mess with his volleyball things and you’re all good.

MIYA TWINS

you three are so loud all the goddamn time, your neighbors hate you guys. the two might baby you or look up to you, but you’re never exempted from their mischief. but at least you have your very own bodyguard and sidekicks.

you own literally nothing. things will go missing from your room, and appear in atsumu’s desk. one time, you see your hand cream in atsumu’s hand, and he’s using it to massage his foot after volleyball practice. “what are you doing?!” “i ran out of foot cream. plus, what’s the difference between feet and hand skin anyways? oh hey, it smells nice.”

you can’t store your food just anywhere too, you have to hide it in the most creative spots just to make sure osamu doesn’t get his hands on it. always makes excuses too. “this is OUR house so this is also OUR food” “sharing is caring, and i’m your brother.”

when osamu and atsumu fight, you either get dragged in or you have to start haggling to get between them. you three will fight about literally anything. mainly because you three love to intentionally annoy each other “get out of my room!” “my feet are outside so it doesn’t count.” BAM BOOSH POW!! knuckle sandwich for everyone!

and you three love to pretend to be characters in the show. powerpuff girls? osamu is bubbles, you and atsumu fight over who’s blossom. alvin and the chipmunks? osamu is theodore, atsumu is alvin, and you’re simon. god forbid spongebob comes on, because atsumu insists he’s pearl.

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

he’s a great brother, in all senses of the word. you leave something at home and he’ll bring it for you. you get into an accident and he’s the first to show up. you lose something and he’ll find it for you.

you see oikawa so often he might as well be your brother too. when you’re talking to people, the two are so irritating lol. oikawa’s teasing you and giggling about it, and iwaizumi is giving you “the talk” which he’s given you dozens of times.

he likes to scold you, but he’s only really looking out for you. he doesn’t like to encourage you when you cause trouble, but a single text from you, and he’s already grumbling and on his way to open the window for you to sneak in.

if you like any of his teammates and he finds out, you’ll get an earful. “there are so many guys in the world and you like him?! you can do better but you’re settling on so little!” and if it’s oikawa, he’s literally gagging and telling oikawa he isn’t allowed to come over anymore.

but also, he’s paying for your deliveries, opening the car door for you, and making you walk in the inner side of the sidewalk, so you win anyways.

HITOKA YACHI

she makes you talk to your mom and ask permission for her, because she’s too scared to do it herself. feels bad and gives you some cash or snacks to make it up to you if you get scolded in her place.

brings you to volleyball practice with her, and if you’re classmates or in karasuno too, she makes you sign up as manager with her too. you two are almost inseparable, mainly because yachi doesn’t want to do things with strangers, and wants to be with someone she knows.

loves to go out and hang with you. she’s not really a shopping kind of girl, but you two will literally get lost when you get to stationery. you two will frequent cute cafes too. you go under the guise of studying but get distracted by everything.

in the nights, she’ll do your hair and skin routine, and you’ll do hers. you two have a shared playlist and everything, and the both of you will just talk about everything under the sun.

surprisingly has a large appetite around you. she’ll ogle your sweets. “um…are you going to eat that? just asking…”

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

sibling or not, he’s really quiet. doesn’t like small talk or messing around since he doesn’t see the point in it. also can be super blunt with you so he hurts your feelings sometimes, but he’s always quick to apologize once he realizes you were upset by it. “you might have gotten a higher score if you didn’t waste time on your phone last night.” “toshi…” “sorry, i mean it as advice.”

has really good insight into things, so you often go to him for advice. he’s straightforward and likes to cut to the chase, so he’s rarely in between decisions. on the other hand, he can occasionally misunderstand your intentions and feelings and doesn’t understand why some things bother you.

he’ll call you to the backyard to toss to him every so often. you’ve spent a majority of your childhood passing ushijima volleyballs for him to hit and receive, and waiting for him to finish watching a game so you can watch your cartoons.

he always has tickets for you to watch his games. if he hears your cheers, he’ll give you a determined smile. he’ll find you after a game and ask you how it was and if you had fun. has you ride in the team bus to and from games and no one really pays too much mind. (except for tendou who’ll pester you)

on his way back home after a long practice, he’ll stop by your favorite restaurant and get some take out for you.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #miya twins #yachi x reader #yachi hitoka x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama x reader

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