#this is completely unproofread

[leashybebes]

i don't have a prompt to give you but like. thank you for all of your writing today, it really made me feel some kind of fantastic way. (did you have an idea for a prompt that hasn't been sent in? consider me asking for that.)

you are so kind and i am so late with this. HOWEVER. have 1.7k of...something.

5 times tommy kisses someone on the cheek, one time someone kisses him on the cheek

1.

His date to junior prom is called Michelle. She's his lab partner in chem class, and she has pretty brown hair, tumbling in curls to her shoulders. Tommy picks her up from her house, because Michelle's really sweet and there's no way he wants her anywhere near his asshole dad.

His friends are all talking in the run up about how they're gonna get laid, and Tommy jokes along because, well. It's not like he doesn't wanna have sex. Of course he does. Michelle's great.

So he picks her up from her house and he hands her a corsage and her mom takes photos and her dad gives him a hard glare that rolls easily off the shoulders of someone who's lived in Thomas Kinard's house all his life and Tommy's hands are sweating and his suit is uncomfortable and her dress is pretty and he doesn't know how to dance and he's so fucking relieved that someone spiked the punch and at the end of the night he walks her home and kisses her on the cheek.

He kisses her on the cheek and she does the same to him, leaving a peachy-orange smear of lipstick and Tommy walks around the neighbourhood until it's late enough that he doesn't think his dad will be awake to bust his balls for being home early, and he doesn't try to figure out whether the feeling rolling in his gut is relief or disappointment. 

2.

His mom won't look at him in the aftermath. It's the first time his dad's ever been on his side in an argument. Well, kinda. If shut up, Sarah, it'll make a man out of him and Christ knows I haven't been able to can really be called being on Tommy's side. His dad had signed the paperwork when his mom had refused, so they all knew this was coming, but his mom's been tearful and furious and a little drunk ever since. 

Tommy's seventeen and he leaves for basic in the morning and his mom still won't look at him.

"Mom, c'mon," he says, trying one last time. "I'll be fine."

"You don't know that," she says, and he hates and regrets how scared she sounds, but he just - he can't stay here.

"I'll write you," he promises. She still doesn't look at him, so he bends down and kisses her cheek. Her skin still smells of the same Nivea Creme it has his whole life, the stuff that comes in the little blue tin.

"I love you, mom."

He lets the door close quietly behind him, doesn't make the trip down to the den to say anything to his dad. Nothing left to say there.

3.

The first man Tommy fucks more than once is called James. They meet in a bar, Tommy blows him in the bathroom, and James suggests they get a motel. They do, and he proceeds to make Tommy see god for the rest of the night and into the early morning hours. They talk after - James works in finance (boring, he says, but I'm not complaining about the money. Tell me more about firefighting, though), he's lived in California his whole life. He tells Tommy how cute he is, how much he'd like to see him again.

He's maybe ten years older than Tommy and so handsome it makes him ache. Tommy's so caught up in it that he doesn't think twice about the fact that they either go to Tommy's little shithole apartment, or James says something about treating him and whisks Tommy away to a fancy hotel in San Francisco or Malibu or even Portland once, for a three night stay where they barely left the bed.

He doesn't think about it until he sees James at the grocery store one day and approaches with a smile, with his heart beating harder in his chest the way it always does when he sees that handsome profile, that scattering of salt through the thick pepper of his hair.

"Hey," he says, and in the aftermath, he can hear the excitement in his voice, the ridiculous way it dips and rises on a single syllable.

James's eyes widen for a split second and he says, "Oh, hey. Tommy, right?" and Tommy has a split second to be confused before he registers the woman at James's side, the way James is putting an arm around her waist, the way he's saying, "Honey, this is Tommy, we go to the same gym. Tommy, this is my wife Suzanne."

Tommy feels sick. He feels like he's going to pass out. He feels like he isn't real. James's eyes are wide and terrified, and Tommy can't believe - 

He smiles and shakes her hand, ducks his head to kiss the cheek she offers him (whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck). 

"It's lovely to meet you," he says, like he isn't in the middle of his own personal apocalypse, like fire isn't raining down on him from the sky.

Stupid, he thinks as he walks away from them, abandons his basket, has a panic attack in his truck. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He doesn't hear from James again.

4.

Tommy's been dating Jackson for three months. They haven't really defined it yet, haven't had the are we exclusive talk, because Jackson's a little younger and he hasn't been out for long. Not that Tommy has, either, but he's trying to be cool. And anyway, it's not often that Tommy gets to feel more experienced than the people he's dating, more knowledgeable, more settled, more queer.

The sex is crazy good, and Jackson's cool with Tommy's weird schedule - they met on a call, after all, so he knew right from the start - and more than anything, it's fun. They don't just fuck, which has been most of Tommy's relationships since James, and that's not - it's not a complaint. Tommy's pretty settled in his own company. But Jackson likes art, and karaoke, and baseball and hiking, so they date. They're dating. Tommy likes it a lot.

And then.

"I think I met someone," Jackson says, and his eyes are sparkling, his smile bringing out a dimple Tommy doesn't think he's ever seen before. Tommy can't even be mad. "I think he's really special," Jackson says, as though that needed saying, with the look on his face.

"I'm happy for you," Tommy says, and he is. He is. He's just also a little…wistful. Not all the way to sad, but…yeah. Wistful. A sense of oh, that could have been something.

They part outside the coffee shop which, on reflection, should have been a sign. They've never just met for coffee before.

"Hey," Tommy says, and gives Jackson a hug, kisses him on his soft cheek. "Don't be a stranger, okay? Good luck with your guy."

"You're so cool, Tommy," he says, and Tommy smiles like that's enough.

5.

Tommy was not expecting Evan Buckley.

Wasn't expecting him to capture so much of Tommy's attention as he's flying through the tail end of a literal hurricane. Wasn't expecting to spend so many hours dissecting that tour and their texts running up to it. (Was that flirting? Was that? Okay, but that had to be, right?) Wasn't expecting to kiss him in his bougie-ass kitchen and watch a softly stunned expression spread over his gorgeous face.

Wasn't expecting that mortifying first date to leave him feeling anything other than like he'd dodged a bullet. Wasn't expecting Evan to reach out again and look at him in the sunshine with so much hope on his face that it makes Tommy feel like he's turned completely transparent and Evan's looking right into the mess at the heart of him. He certainly wasn't expecting an invite to a wedding, of all things. And he definitely wasn't expecting Evan to kiss him - try to fucking inhale him - in the hospital lobby in front of god and everybody and then drag him into the wedding like he's the guest of honor or something.

He also wasn't expecting the enthusiasm, the abandon, the sheer confidence with which Evan took him home that night and took him to bed and took him apart. 

Oh god, Tommy thinks, once Evan's fallen asleep and Tommy's wide awake in the city lights that aren't muted at all by the decor appropriate but definitely not black out blinds on Evan's huge windows. This one's gonna hurt.

He kisses Evan's cheek, warm with sleep, rough with stubble. Evan turns towards Tommy in his sleep, one hand reaching out, a soft murmur leaving his parted lips.

Yeah. This one's gonna hurt real bad.

+1. 

Another coffee shop. Another hopeful smile. Another time that Tommy's heart turns over in his chest at the sight of Evan Buckley.

But everything is different now. Evan is different now. He's marked by grief, and he's more serious than Tommy's seen him, and he's so - he's so calm as he lays it out:

"Listen. I haven't stopped thinking about you. Through all - all this. Through everything before. I miss you. I really miss you, Tommy. I miss the way you see me. The way you know me. The way you like me. I miss your shitty sense of humor and your bitchy eyebrows and how kind you are. Tommy. God, Tommy, life is so short. I want to try again. What do you want?"

Tommy feels like the world is tilting under his chair, like the coffee is going to come back up, like he's on fire.

"That," he makes himself say through numb lips. "I want that. Evan, I want - "

"Okay," Evan says, and smiles, small and real. He leans across the table, big hand tilting Tommy's head, soft lips pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to the angle of his cheekbone. "Okay."

Tommy closes his eyes, tries to imprint every little part of his moment into his memory. Wants to go to his grave remembering exactly how that kiss felt, the smell of Evan's aftershave, the touch of his fingertips, the warmth of the sun.

Evan sits back in his chair and Tommy thinks be brave. Be brave for him. Be brave.

"Hey," he says, and fiddles with his cup. "I'm pretty sure you're the love of my life."

Evan smiles and catches hold of Tommy's hand, brings it to his lips and kisses it. "Well. That works out nicely."

[sidneycarter]

love the idea that post The Situation thomas is just increasingly obtuse when it comes to jimmy's feelings.

so when one day mrs hughes mentions in passing at how much easier it is to handle james now he's settled down, thomas is incredibly confused. and a little bit heartbroken too of course.

it gets even stranger when on valentine's day alfred sulkily asks jimmy how many cards he's sent that year and jimmy merely shrugs and smirks. mrs patmore chastises them for gossiping and announces that surely, jimmy's only got one to be sending.

then one night, most of the staff are enjoying a rare night off in the pub. as usual, a host of pretty girls surround jimmy, and one particularly brave one asks jimmy if he's got any plans on one of his half days. jimmy throws her a cheeky wink and says "sorry, darling, but i'm spoken for."

thomas starts feeling really rather hurt. he's known all along that this would happen eventually - that jimmy would eventually move on and find a nice village lass, but it still stings to hear it. somehow, it hurts even more knowing that clearly jimmy has fallen for someone but he hasn't even told thomas.

thomas puts on a brave face and elbows daisy in the side. "d'ya hear that? jimmy's kept that quiet 'asn't he?"

daisy looks at him with a frown and cocks her head to the side. "well, not really--" but before she can say anything else she's swept up into the rowdy conversation of the table.

a few weeks later, thomas and jimmy are alone in the servants hall, with thomas reading the paper in his rocking chair and jimmy tapping out melodies on the piano. the tune he's playing is sweet and gentle, and thomas finds himself swaying his head along. as the song draws to a close, a gentle round of applause sounds from the doorway.

baxter stands smiling. "let me call you sweetheart is one of my favourites. it was beautiful, jimmy."

jimmy blushes prettily and stands, closing the piano lid. "thank you, mrs baxter. good night."

after he's gone from the room, baxter enters to fill herself a glass of water. she smiles fondly at thomas. "he's so smitten you know. head over heels." she rolls her eyes affectionately.

it takes months until thomas finally figures out the truth of what's going on. well, to say he figures it out is somewhat generous.

he's in the servants hall again, this time feeling a little despondent with a cup of tea. jimmy had gone to the pictures with alfred of all people, their friendship seemingly improved since jimmy's given up on chasing ivy's skirt. thomas is resolutely not waiting up to make sure jimmy gets home safe. anna is the only other person still up, and she sits opposite thomas stitching one of lady mary's hemlines in companionable silence.

thomas dwells on his own thoughts for a while, until anna rests her sewing on the table and fixes him with a worried look. "are you quite alright, mr barrow?"

"hm? oh, yes anna, i'm very well thank you." he takes a sip of his tea to hide his moue.

anna looks unconvinced. "thomas," she says seriously, "is it-- have you and jimmy had a falling out?"

that genuinely surprises thomas. for all his worry and sadness over jimmy's as yet unknown love interest, they'd never fallen out. "no, no, of course not. he's just busy, that's all, which is to be expected now he's, you know," thomas waves his cup vaguely in the air, "courting the mystery lady."

anna chokes on a laugh. "the mystery lady?"

"yes. he's-- he's courting someone, isn't he? everyone keeps saying that he's... or suggesting that he's taken with someone." Thomas adds somewhat bitterly, "seems quite serious if you ask me. not that he's told me anything about it of course."

anna stops giggling and looks at him oddly. "thomas you-- you can't mean--"

"-- do you know who she is, anna?" thomas interrupts a little desperately. he's becoming tired of it all and he just wants to know-- how bad it is, for how long he's going to have to tend to his broken heart.

"thomas. thomas, jimmy's sweetheart is-- well, it's you."

"me?" thomas has a brief, sickening memory of his feelings before, and how miss o'brien toyed with them so badly. but he knows in his gut, that anna would never, and could never do that. he knows she's being honest, as confusing and terrifying as the statement may be.

"yes." anna smiles. "he's like a little puppy when he's with you. surely you've noticed? he gazes at you with stars in his eyes. he wants to do everything you do, and it seems like every other conversation is all about what you've been telling him this week. he only ever plays love songs on the piano when you're in the room. he laughs at all your jokes and he's not even glanced in the direction of a girl since last year." anna shakes her head. "i thought you knew and were just letting him get used to it."

"no i didn't -- i didn't know, i thought," thomas can feel himself blushing, "i don't know what i thought."

anna stands with a stifled yawn. "you make each other very happy. if you really didn't know, i think you ought to talk to him. good night, mr barrow."

"good night anna. and thank you."

thomas is left in the still and quiet of the room, watching the steam spiral up from his cup. a private and hopeful smile spreads across his face. yes, he thinks, nodding his head, perhaps we should talk.

[unknownati]

xiii. tap tap tap

a/n: im. Cooking. I swear

idk whether to finish my reqs first or my wips 😭 but lowkey i've been busy asf sorry 😞 i am slooowly chipping away at them

warnings/tags: no use of y/n, no desc of reader's physical features, gn!reader, sub!ekko, crop top, living my truth, orgasm denial, handjob, short bleghhh, unproofread THIS ENDING 😒

_______________________________________________

a small groan rumbles in ekko's chest as he leans over his workbench, papers scattered across the wood surface in a chaotic organization.

"ugh," ekko's head shook, nose scrunching in frustration. nothing was adding up—none of the math circled back to the main problem.

his z-drive got messed up in a fight, and the whole thing was completely off now. not being able to figure this stupid thing out had his forehead heating up, his fingers flicking his pencil between his fingers, a constant rapping against the table reminiscent to a clock ticking.

a whole room over, the sound made your ears twitch at the familiarity, your mind's attention shifting from the book you were reading to that consistent noise.

you've asked ekko many times to try to not make that noise—it's a distraction, gritting to your ears. each word you read gets replaced with a 'tap tap.'

you know the context behind that noise too—so why not help him fix it?

you peek into ekko's room, the tapping filling your ears more clearly. your presence is thick, even with your lack of noise, ekko realizes you're there. he gives you a small grunt of acknowledgment, no time to think about anything more.

your chin rests on his shoulder, palms running up and down his forearms. your eyes pass over the work he has, not a clue in the world what any of this means. what your eyes dart to instead was that pencil. still tapping. you hum. "what's wrong, baby?"

his nose scrunches and he sighs, shaking his head. "i just can't figure this out."

you let the sentence linger in the air, squeezing his shoulders, fingers slipping to kneed his biceps. "hmm...well, what are you tryna do?"

his lips form a line and then he opens his mouth, explaining the entire plan out to you with reasoning, showing you pictures, showing you evidence, everything. you weren't listening to a word.

"but the thing is, i tried both, and doing the first one leads me down a complete different road. and i'm wondering if it's because—"

"mhm," you hum as he continues speaking, your eyes trailing up his gesticulating arms, then down. his shirt was cropped, his midriff peeking out from the angle you were at. casually, both of your hands begin snaking down. they both stop at his waist. he doesn't notice—it's a regular occurrence. you're always touching the visible skin when he's wearing a crop top.

you couldn't lie, the sight was tantalizing. every time he reached up for something, the shirt would raise and give you a larger view of his abs. something about the crop top was so much better than seeing him shirtless.

it wasn't until your hand started creeping up his shirt that he fumbled over his words. "what are you doing?"

"nothing, sorry. keep talking."

he cleared his throat, stuttering for a moment but then getting back on track to his sentences. he asks something, some question related to the papers in front of him.

"hmm, well i dunno baby. talk me through it, what do you think?" you throw the ball right back into his court. good thing ekko likes talking, because he immediately had an answer for you, his mouth running once again.

you give half-hearted noises of acknowledgment between pauses in speech, meanwhile, the hand that wasn't up his shirt was slooowly making it's way down his pants. once you breached the band of his boxers, he stuttered again.

"what are you doing?" he re-asks, more emphasis on his words. you shake your head.

"focus on what you have to figure out, not on me."

he doesn't respond, zoning out as your fist closes around his dick. it's slowly growing in your hand, twitching at your touch. the hand up his shirt taps. "focus." you repeat.

"um," he groans, picking up the next sheet of paper. "i just think that—"

his sentence was cut short by a gasp, since you gave him no time to prepare himself, immediately starting to stroke him. he thinks he knows what game you're playing.

"think that...maybe i should try thinking about it the other...way around...i–f-fuck..." his sentence trails off, shaky breaths filling the air and ghosting around him. the tapping grows weak until it finally stops, wood clattering and rolling against the desk.

"you...?" you pick the sentence off where it ended, your wrist flicking rapidly. his knees feel weak— he leans his weight onto his palms, which rest against the edge of the table.

"god, i–i don't know. i can't focus with you doing that..."

you allow him a few more moments of bliss, and you can tell he's close. you're leading him right into your trap, moving faster,

"ah,"

faster,

"baby, please, i'm-"

faster,

"oh fuck,"

...then it's all gone. the tight coil in his tummy simply...crumbled rather than unraveling. he almost collapses, arms wobbling to hold himself up on the desk.

"that's how i feel when you tap that pencil."

before he can even process his confusion, you're out the room, door shutting behind you.

maybe an unconventional approach—but you never heard that tapping again.

[likelysobbing]

𖥻 the sun so bright. kk arnold x lowkey npc!reader

synopsis: you don’t know if kk arnold, #2 in jersey and #1 in your heart, likes girls. well, more specifically, likes girls like you.

notes: guys this is my humble offer to the fans. please accept it even tho it is lowkey dogwater i swear i do better with headcanons lmfao aslo MAJORLY UNPROOFREAD LOL

cw: reader’s a uconn ncp LMAOOO she’s an average student and thats gonna be a big part of the fic, readers down bad for kk but aren’t we all, reader and kk love eachother, established friendship, kind of friends to lovers and subtle sun & moon trope (subtle i say, subtle it IS NOT.)

you don’t know if kk arnold likes girls.

well, you can assume that she does, with the tiktok audios she uses and her tomboyish fashion sense (would that be the right word to use?), you can assume that she does.

but even then, you don’t know if kk arnold likes girls like you.

kamorea is the sun.

brighter than most, bringing her light toward select places and people, blinding them with her own smile—kamorea is the sun. she’s a bit more… out there; a complete social butterfly that just never seems to die out, always fluttering around and landing on people … worthy enough, if you were to describe it. she’s the sun, the burst of energy everyone needs—especially on the court.

kamorea shone bright, and when she dimmed, she did not do it for long. there’s a spark in her, one that refuses to go out. it likely never will. she would possibly always be like this; surrounded with the ambition to be the best she could be and the curiosity to match it, it was no doubt that kamorea— kk, would go far. nothing was holding her back.

so why did she choose to stop?

and why was it because of you?

uconn was what you made it.

it could be good, it could be so horrifically bad, and that was up to you. there was rarely ever a middle ground, apparently; you either had lots of friends, fun, and as a result a scary amount of school spirit— or you couldn’t stand the academic rigor—or, just, rigor—uconn threw at the back of your head, and you ended up face first in the abyss of burn out and loneliness.

there was rarely ever a middle ground, but here you were.

balanced.

good grades, a group of friends, a little bit involved in organizations and clubs, maybe you even went to a game here and there—there was balance. in the sea of university life, you did not stand proud at the prow of one of the bigger ships— you aren’t walking the plank, either, though. you are merely… keeping yourself afloat.

all this to say you are painstakingly average.

and yet, here you are, and here kk—the little social butterfly— is, sitting next to you because apparently when you returned her pen to her she started seeing you around a lot more and took that as a sign to land on you.

you look at here and you only really see light. nothing else; just light.

you listen to her speak about paige (bueckers, uconn’s #5. an… unnaturally big hit with the ladies—but you understand) and how the girl nearly ‘snatched her tru fru from her own damn hands’. you listen to her speak about basketball and the logistics of it all even if you know next to nothing about it and continue not to because you only ever absorb information when it’s the sound of her voice you hear.

you listen to her speak.

and your mind starts wandering.

you don’t know if kk arnold likes girls.

girls like… average girls. girls that aren’t all that to write home about. not because they’re insecure and just can’t seem to see themselves as ‘amazing’, but because they’re actually average.

you don’t know if kk arnold even likes you. you look at her and you see the sun, and she looks at you and she just—

“you good?”

you blink.

her hand is on top of yours, palm on your knuckle as you snap out of whatever you had been zoned in on (her; it’s always her). she’s smiling slightly, eyebrow raised. you don’t know if shes fighting a small, awkward laugh or just.. genuinely concerned. or both.

“yeah, yeah i’m good. just thinking.” you reply,

“what could you be thinkin’ about? girl, i been here yapping your ear off for like a good ten minutes…” kk trails off, a chuckle escaping her. it’s true, she has been. that’s exactly what you’re thinking about. she’s been here.

why is she still here?

there are better things to do. there is more she can possibly find interesting than sitting here yapping your ear off (eventhoughyoucan’thelpbutlookforwardtoit), there is more to her world than just these little moments with you— so why does she extend them? there is more to her. there’s more she should be doing. your eyes flicker to her for a moment, and she tilts her head, waiting for an answer—“what? you gonna keep staring or something?” she teases, that same lilt in her voice that has you pulling at the hem of your shirt. kk shrugs, smug, “yeah, i know, sometimes you just gotta stare thats coo—“

“why are you still here.”

it slips out of your mouth naturally, and kk’s smile? it doesn’t drop. it gets wider.

it’s odd. you expected a great wave of sass and attitude.

regardless, you jump to explain yourself, “sorry, that wasn’t—“

“nah, i know you ain’t mean it that way.”

“i know, i’m sorry, i—“ you pause. “wait.” there’s a beat of silence where you just stare at eachother—you not believing she’s not mad over it, and her just blinking at you with that dorky smile on her face. “what.” you say; you’re confused, obviously, because … well, what? what??

“why am i still here? mm, yeah, let’s think about it—“ she claps her hands together, rubbing them warm as she nods her head and pretends to think on it. she is not, infact, thinking on why she’s still here. she’s thinking about you.

but you? you don’t know that.

you’re out of your mind terrified under a newfound sense of scrutiny from her that isn’t like the usual friendliness she regards you with.

so when she opens her mouth, you open yours and you both speak at the same time:

“i like you.”

“i can leave.”

your eyes widen in disbelief,

“what?!”

kk nearly jumps trying to stop you from standing up,

“no, don’t leave!”

by then, you’re whisper-yelling at eachother.

“what do you mean you like me?!”

“what else would i mean?!”

“why would you like me?!”

“does there have to be a reason?!”

that stuns you.

does there have to be a reason?

kk looks at you, pretty features in a frown, eyes twinkling with a smidge of hope you don’t want to crush. a smidge of hope you … can’t crush at all.

“i didn’t—“ i didn’t know you liked girls, you want to say. i didn’t want to assume. kk doesn’t flinch when she interrupts you and says, “i do. if you’re thinking about that one live, i think it was pretty obvious i was bullshittin…?” she grins, referring to when she announced she had a ‘boyfriend’. as if.

you blink. oh. kamorea laughs and you feel warmth, and the hand on top of yours squeezes you tighter.

oh, you soften, okay.

your hand turns, your palm against hers, your fingers intertwining, your eyes widening slightly as hers crease with the impossible widening of her smile, and she laughs. again. as if this is the funniest thing she’s ever seen, as if your sudden shyness is amusing enough to acknowledge, and god bless her soul.

you want to hear that laugh forever.

kamorea is the sun.

brighter than most, bringing her light toward select places and people, blinding them with her own smile—kamorea is the sun.

you feel your skin warm at the sight of her and the feel of her fingers on your skin, intertwining with your hands—and yet, just as one does to the sun, you look for more of her light in the crook of her neck and the flutters you feel whenever she gives you a kiss.

you are the moon.

you don’t complete her. you complement her. that’s everything she wants.

without you, kamorea would continue to shine, but with you—she shines brighter. she completes you, brings you fullness, makes you whole, and with the way she giggles during kisses? the way she runs to you first after every game, win or loss? the way she keeps you close, especially when you try to pull away?

there is no moon without the sun.

—and there is no you without her.

@likelysobbing.

[kirbysdreamlandd]

Hamzah takes you christmas shopping

Hamzah X Y/N (FEM),

Fluff, SFW, One-shot

Hamzah comes home on Christmas Day with a surprise—A whole day of shopping just for you.

Oof, I rushed to post this since it’s already New Year’s! Hope you all have a fantastic year ahead and enjoy this unproofread, late fic!

You were comfortably sat on your bed, fingers tapping on the keyboard of your laptop while your lilac Apple AirPods Max—so kindly gifted to you by Freddie Dredd—rested snugly over your ears, drowning out the world with a soothing mix of your favorite jazz songs.

In your hands was your “Out of Character” mug, its handle cracked and glued back together—a casualty of Hamzah’s infamous lack of attentiveness. The poor mug had met its fate during one of your kitchen debates over what to DoorDash, a conversation that had somehow spiraled into a messy, laughter-filled makeout session right there by the countertop.

Every time you held the mug, you couldn’t help but recall that memory: Hamzah half-apologizing between kisses, both of you too caught up in the moment to care about the loud crash behind you, and the mug shattering to pieces on the floor.

Hamzah had insisted on replacing it a with another. “We have millions of others in the warehouse.” But for you, this wasn’t just any mug. It was the one that had seen you through everything. From your first awkward visit to his apartment after a Hinge date, all the way to the day you packed up your tiny studio and moved into his house.

You both had ended up buying so many other mugs over time; ones with stupid sayings like “Mama Needs a Coffee” to match your equally ridiculous “Mama Needs a Blunt” shirts.

But no matter how many novelty mugs came and went, it was always that one “Out of Character” mug that ended up in your hands.

That piece of history was now filled with the hot chocolate you and Hamzah had lovingly prepared together that morning, the steam rising in soft spirals before meeting your lips.

That morning had been full of festive joy. You and Hamzah had spent hours decorating the Christmas tree, hanging each ornament turning into a competition for who had found the most ridiculous cringeworthy decoration at Walmart.

The free time after finishing up the Christmas decorating quickly became Hamzah’s excuse to pull off your matching set of pajamas. “What? I’m unwrapping my Christmas present.”

You smiled softly to the screen of your laptop, recalling Hamzah telling you at some point that this was the best Christmas he’d ever had. “I actually feel like I’m part of a family.” he had said. It wasn’t just about you two, it was about everyone: Mandy, Martin, and all the others who had made this Christmas feel complete for him.

You were so absorbed in your memories and hypnotized by the soft voice of Kali Uchis humming in your ears that you didn’t notice Hamzah returning from his trip to the store.

He started calling your name, the third time being when you finally heard the faint sound of his voice through your headphones. You quickly got up, pulling them off as you heard him make his way to the bedroom, still calling your name.

“Babe?”You raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you greeted him. “Hey, what’s all this?” you asked, nodding toward the bags.

Hamzah grinned, shifting the bags around in his arms. “Christmas presents for the kids. Got a little carried away when I encountered the toy isle.” He paused, setting the bags down making a heavy clunk.

You peeked into the bag, spotting a huge Lego set that seemed to be Spider-Man related.

“D’you think Martin’s gonna like it?” he asked, catching you eyeing the purchase. “Bought a similar one for Freddie.”

“Oh, I checked out that Kawasaki we saw the other day,” Hamzah continued, his voice a mix of excitement and hesitation. “The owner said it’s a custom motorcycle, so it’ll probably cost a fortune. It’s not worth it, man.”

After setting down the other bag, Hamzah walked over and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you tight into him. “I got a present for you, too.”

You tilted your head back to make eye contact, and for a moment you saw that usual smug expression on his face soften with sweetness.

“Hm? What is it?” you asked, your arms swinging around his hips. You couldn’t resist giving his butt a playful squeeze, but he immediately dodged it with a playful chuckle.

He grabbed your hand gently and placed it over his chest. “Me. I’m the present.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the playful scoff that slipped from your lips. His grin widened, and he giggled softly, still holding your hand, his fingers nearly intertwining with yours.

“I’m joking.” he added quickly and slowly pulling your hand from his chest, his grip firm as he moved it to the side.

You glanced down and noticed he was still wearing the pajama pants you’d bought him, the ones covered in little Santa Claus prints. The soft fabric clung to his legs, highlighting the shape of his thighs and emphasizing the curve on his crotch area.

“I know you wanna take these off me, girl.” he blurted. Your head snapped up caught in a guilty expression. “I’m sorry, but we’ve got things to do.” he said, his voice light and teasing, until his gaze flicked down to your outfit. He paused, his expression unreadable for a moment, and you suddenly felt a wave of self-consciousness.

Hamzah wasn’t usually one to critique your outfit choices. If anything, he always found a way to compliment your carefully chosen looks, especially if they incorporated his own clothes.

“You might wanna dress up.” he stated, his voice low, but his eyes betrayed the sharp flicker of desire as they lingered on the flushed mark on your collarbone and neck, a reminder of that morning’s passionate need for each other.

You couldn’t help but flash a flustered smirk, but quickly snapped back, wondering what in God’s name he meant by “You might wanna dress up.”

You watched as he pulled away to carry the bags away, completely unbothered by your utter confusion.

“What the fuck does that mean, Hamzah?”you asked, crossing your arms as his head shot up. “Where are we going?”

He smiled, giving a smug yet amused look. With his hands now free, he fished his wallet out of the pocket of his hoodie.

“I’m splurging on you, babe.” he said casually, flipping his wallet open. Neatly stacked credit cards glinted under the light, and a Polaroid of the two of you awkwardly touching tongue tips in a photo booth peeked out from the folds.

You continued to stare at him, waiting for the punchline, unsure if this was still part of his joke. But his expression remained genuine, his smile softening into that familiar playful look Hamzah wore when he was truly happy.

“Come on, I’m taking you to wherever you want.” he said, walking toward you with a playful grin. “I know you like the matching PJs, but you’ve got to wear a lot more than that. It’s below freezing out.”

As he veered off to greet the cats with an exaggerated, high-pitched voice in response to their meows, you stood in the hallway for a moment before retreating to the bedroom. Your laptop still displayed the test you’d been taking. You closed it with a soft click, unknowingly letting out a relieved sigh.

Rummaging through your closet, you pulled out a long-sleeved black top and a comfy black silk skirt, simple but elegant. To keep warm, you layered on a fuzzy coat and wrapped a red scarf snugly around your neck.

For the final touch, your hand hesitated for a moment before reaching for the red lacey tights—the ones Hamzah always said made you look “like a sexy office siren”. A small smirk tugged at your lips as you slipped them on, pairing them with sleek black heels that completed the look.

You gave yourself a look in the mirror. The outfit was bold, a little outside your usual comfort zone, but that was part of the fun. You loved dressing up for dates; not just for the way it made you feel, but for Hamzah’s inevitable amazed reaction and silly comments every time you jokingly runway model-walked to him.

When you walked back into the hallway, his reaction was immediate. He paused mid-sentence, one hand still extended toward a cat that had been nuzzling him, and his eyes widened slightly before a lopsided grin spread across his face.

“Damn.” He said adjusting his beanie while attentively scanning your whole body. His gaze darted quickly, from your face to your chest, down to your legs, and back to your face before lingering there, his lips parting slightly as if he wanted to say more was left speechless.

“Blue got your tongue?” you teased, twirling around playfully, letting the silky skirt flare out slightly.

His only response was a breathless laugh, shaking his head as if to snap himself out of it, but his dark widened eyes were still glued to you.

You sauntered over, the click of your heels echoing in the hallway, and leaned in close. Pressing a soft kiss to his jaw, leaving behind a faint red lipstick mark.

“Girl, I want you to get my tongue.”He teased, laughing softly, before his hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer just as you tried to pull away. Your faces were inches apart now. His eyes flicked down to your lips, a hungry look quickly growing in his pupils, as if the red lipstick unlocked a new craving in him.

But before he could lean in for the kiss, you broke away, giggling, leaving him standing there with his lips slightly parted. You grabbed your bag, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips as you made your way toward the door.

-

The mall was alive with the chatter of couples picking out Christmas gifts, the soft clinking of cash registers blending with the festive music playing. Despite the cold air that that clung to your fuzzy coat when you’d stepped inside, the warmth of the mall enveloped you, Hamzah’s presence beside you only adding to the coziness.

You couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze would occasionally flicker to your outfit. How his lips curled into that knowing smile, along with the same teasing glint in his eyes.

Hamzah inisisted on getting you the chocolate-covered strawberries you’d been eyeing every time you passed the food stalls. The vendor, grinning at Hamzah’s excitement, threw in a jar of pistachio cream and even offered a Christmas-themed spoon for free, saying that Hamzah was “doing the right thing by spoiling his lady”.

Your next stop was a cute pink store filled with Hello Kitty and other Sanrio gadgets. You picked out a few skincare products, making sure to grab some that could be shared between you two. Hamzah had a habit of stealing your moisturizers anyway, so it only made sense. When he showed you the cherry-scented lip balm, bejeweled with tiny Hello Kitty figures, you couldn’t help but tease him. “Yeah, you could use some of that too.” Then you found yourself rummaging through Hello Kitty blind boxes, your hands practically trembling with excitement. You had to complete the collection, and Hamzah simply shook his head as you grabbed a handful of them.

“It’s an obsession” he muttered, the familiar reference slipping from his lips before he sighed dramatically. “I miss Martin.” he added, the usual remark he weaponized to draw your attention back to him.

The next stop was a high-end boutique, the kind brimming with luxurious fabrics and well-dressed staff who hovered nearby, ready to pounce on you the moment your gaze lingered on anything, ready to recommend the priciest item in the store.

Though your first reaction was to scoff at the price tags, Hamzah was relentless, insisting you try on a couple of dresses. You hesitated at first, but once you stepped out of the fitting room, you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes widened along with a bright smile.

You ended up buying two dresses, each one serving a different vibe but equally gorgeous to you.

The first dress was a chic, long-sleeved design, its soft fabric and delicate details perfect for the cottagecore look you liked. The way it hugged your figure and complimented your features made you feel like you were stepping out of a Pinterest board. As you twirled in front of the mirror, the airy fabric flowing around you, Hamzah’s voice cut through the fantasy you were immersing yourself in.

“Nara Smith can move over,” he said, his eyes wide, pointing at you and pretending to talk to an imaginary audience. “This is the perfect trad wife.”

Then came the second dress, a complete contrast. It was a lacy, see-through, short dress that had you questioning how you’d even find the occasion to wear it. It clung in all the right places and left little to the imagination, with a daring open back framed by pearly curtains. The moment you walked out, Hamzah’s face shifted from playful to serious as he quickly stood up, his hand instinctively reaching to shield you as you turned.

As you passed the sneaker store, a couple of pairs caught your eye. Shoes that matched some of the items on Hamzah’s wishlist. The temptation was too strong, so you subtly steered him inside. He hesitated, but you were persistent, convincing him to try on a few pairs making him walk around the aisles a few times.

“Are you sure they fit well?” You asked worried, follwing Hamzah with your eyes as he awkwardly paced up and down the store aisle.

“Yes, mom.” He plopped back on the chair with an exaggerated sigh, while you leaned down to press on the tip of the shoe, making sure that there was enough space for his toes.

After much deliberation, he finally settled on a pair of black metallic shoes, admiring them with a satisfied look on his face. As you both approached the cashier, he fumbled for his wallet. You quietly handed over your card as the cashier processed the purchase, a small smile exchanged between you and the employee behind the desk while Hamzah continued make small talk, oblivious to the transaction happening right in front of him.

Once the bag was handed to him, you made your way out of the store, giggling to yourself about the little secret you held from him.

The mall had completely drained both of you, the energy spent on shopping, teasing, and trying on clothes leaving you feeling more tired than you’d expected. You both ordered two caramel macchiatos at the Christmas-y looking coffe shop and made your way back to the parking lot.

Hamzah’s tired smile, the smell of coffee, and the undeniable Christmas spirit that seemed to be everywhere around you ignited in you a calming serenity.

The warm AC hummed through the car as Hamzah turned the key, the motor rumbling to life. The car’s screen lit up, and the soft, jazzy tones of “Santa Baby” by Laufey spilled through the speakers.

“Oh my god, the spirit of the Christmas is here, literally.” Hamzah said, faking a surprised expression while extending a hand towards the screen.

“Santa, if you’re hearing me, please bring Hamzah that Kawasaki he’s always wanted.” you said, glancing at him with a playful smirk as he chuckled, steering the wheel with one hand.

Little did he know, his beloved motorcycle was waiting for him in the garage, tied up with an exaggeratedly big red bow and a red lipstick-stained note resting on top of it.

[stillmonsterz]

sunghoon + heeseung + jay workplace bullying abuse (unproofread)

noncon dead dove etc etc

You're interning for a large corporation, which initially excited you. However, you quickly find that your talents are being wasted on drudgery: fetching papers, pouring coffee, writing notes, and even taking out the trash.

Two of your coworkers take particular enjoyment in watching you occupy yourself with menial tasks. One is Heeseung, a gangly, quiet man who hangs around Sunghoon, whose smile greatly contrasts his otherwise cold features.

At first, they largely left you alone to your own devices, but one day, as you're making coffee in the staff room, Sunghoon comes up behind you and presses himself against you. "I'd like some coffee, too," he said, "with a lot of milk." At that, he harshly squeezed your breasts over your work blouse. You gasped in surprise, and Sunghoon got off of you, guffawing as he walked back to Heeseung.

Heeseung, who had been observing from the hallway, snickered as he watched you fumble with two mugs. "One for me, too," he called.

You turned around to face him. "Did you want sugar or milk?" You needed this internship, as it could be an essential stepping stone for your career, but you felt humiliated.

Heeseung pretended to think. "I'll take care of it." He strode over to you and stared at you as you poured the coffee into three mugs. When you feebly pushed one towards him, Heeseung hacked up a wad of saliva and spit it into the mug. "For you," he said. Sunghoon stifled a laugh.

Your eyes widened as Heeseung held the mug up to your lips. "Just a sip," he said, grunning amicably. "Just one sip, hm?"

As you swallowed your pride and drank the coffee, you could feel the thick globule of saliva slither down your throat. You gagged, and Sunghoon laughed once again.

"Nice, Heeseung," Sunghoon said, high-fiving his friend. They left you alone in the staff room with three mugs of coffee.

--

Things got worse from there. They had caught on to your subservient nature and relished in making you uncomfortable. Sunghoon liked to call you into his office, pretend to drop something on the floor, and make you search for it on your hands and knees. As you did so, he would peel your skirt up so that he could see your panties. Other times, he would ask you for a report about a client that didn't exist. You would go into the archive room, rummaging through file folders while Sunghoon groped your breasts and rubbed his hard-on onto your ass.

Heeseung was different. He would outright ask you to strip as soon as you entered his office. Instead of creating useless tasks for you to complete while he got off to your co fusion, Heeseung would use you to do the grunt work that he didn't want to do. You would sit around in the chair beside his, completely naked, typing away on his laptop or filling out forms. Occasionally, Heeseung would reach out and idly feel you up, as if you were just a sex doll who happened to be sentient enough to do office labour.

There was a couch in the staff room, and one day, as you were swallowing down a bitter mug of black coffee (a coping strategy you had developed over the weeks) Heeseung and Sunghoon walked in.

"There she is," Heeseung said, pointing at you. "Come on, let's just fuck her."

Sunghoon shook his head. "And what if someone walks in?"

"They can join in." Your heart started to race at their words.

"What about a higher-up?"

Heeseung looked conflicted for a brief moment before shaking his head. "Nah, there's no way. They're on a different floor." Heeseung walked over, grabbed your hand, and jerked you towards the couch. "Look, if you're so pussy, then I can just have fun with her all alone."

You squirmed in his grasp, but he brought you onto his lap and started kissing you. His lips tasted acrid, and he didn't hesitate to start unbuttoning your work blouse. As Heeseung kissed you, he pushed you down further onto the couch so that your head was resting on the armrest. You tried flailing your arms, but he held your wrist above your head. Then you tried kneeing him in the groin, but Heeseung shoved his own knee between your legs.

"I'm going to fuck her loose," Heeseung taunted, unbuckled his belt. He shoved his knee into your crotch, the friction causing you to gasp.

Sunghoon appeared to have changed his mind, quickly coming over to the couch. He, too, loosened his belt and lowered his pants down. "We better not get in trouble..."

Soon, Sunghoon had positioned himself so that his knees were on opposite sides of your head. His cock was lodged in your throat, his balls slapping your chin every time he thrusted.

Heeseung was occupying himself with your pussy, pounding it relentlessly. Initially, he had been slow as his cock adjusted to your warm, wet pussy. After that, he had taken up a wild pace. He had let go of your hands; instead, you grasped at Sunghoon's thighs, digging your nails into them. He didn't seem to notice.

"Her mouth isn't bad," Sunghoon said through laboured breaths. "You want to try after?"

"Nah," Heeseung said. He sounded as tired as Sunghoon, panting loudly. "I'll be done once I nut in her."

The staff room door had been closed, and you couldn't hear it open. You did hear an imposing voice say, "What are you doing?"

Heeseung stopped fucking you, and Sunghoon looked up. You turned your head in the same direction and saw one of the board of directors, Jay Park, standing a few metres away.

"It was his idea," Sunghoon said in a juvenile tone. Heeseung slapped his arm.

"Sorry, sir," Heeseung said, sounding genuinely apologetic.

Jay raised his hand and stepped closer. Finally, you were going to be saved. Maybe you could tell him about the other evil things they'd done, and they'd be fired. Jay placed his hands on his hips. "How is she?"

Heeseung blinked. "What?"

"Is she any good?"

"Well..." Heeseung looked down at you. "I mean, she's not very lively or anything, but she's nice and tight."

"Her mouth is great," Sunghoon interjected.

Jay glanced between the three of you. "Get off of her." Heeseung quickly pulled himself out of you and Sunghoon did the same, nervously tucking his cock into his boxers. "No," Jay said. "No, you can keep fucking her. We just need a better position."

Heeseung and Sunghoon looked at each other in confusion.

"Heeseung, you can have her ass, and Sunghoon can have her mouth..." Jay sat down on the couch and pulled you on top of him so that your breasts pushed against his suit jacket and your ass faced outwards. "See, you can fuck her mouth if you stand up..."

"Wow," Sunghoon said in a cocksucking I-want-a-raise way, "great idea, sir."

Heeseung still looked as though he were in disbelief, but he shrugged and came towards you. He stuck his finger into his mouth, wetting it, and shoved it up your asshole. The tight band of muscle stretched painfully. "It'll be tight as shit," Heeseung muttered.

"You boys should be doing this in private," Jay chided, unbuckling his belt. "Back in my day, we'd take whores into the storage closets and fuck them there."

"Another fantastic idea. Permission to do that next time?" Sunghoon said before plunging his cock back into your whimpering mouth.

Jay smiled. "Permission granted."

[mydearesthrry]

love in secret - h.s.

a/n: ohhhh my loves this one is a mess. please bear with me!!! it gets better. i promise. i love this one so so dearly and its very special to me so please be kind :’( i love you i love you i love you, thank you for choosing to read my work. enjoy <3

🎀 warnings/cw: a really weird creepy uncle (weird comments/advances on yn), a weird creepy guy at a bar, a weird girl at a birthday party, angst, harry yells lol, FLUFF CANT EMPHASIZE THIS ENOUGHHHH, PROTECTIVERRY nothing too out of the ordinary for me

🐇 pairing: best friend!reader x harry styles to lovers

💐 wc: 5.9k (not edited, completely unproofread)

summary: 5 times when Y/N and harry communicated with just a look to each other, or, 5 times where they just understood.

— 1

The lights in the restaurant were bright. Blinding, really. YN had a hard time even keeping a conversation with someone due to the lights being so bright and her needing to shut her eyes tightly every couple of seconds. It was unfortunate enough that she showed up to the dinner with a headache beginning to brew at the nape of her neck, and she cursed herself in her head at the fact that she let herself just ignore it. The room was filled with loud chatter and laughter, the other patrons enjoying themselves and letting loose with the alcohol provided to them. Her head was hung, hair falling around the sides of her face, allowing for a nice shield to dim the lights a little bit, providing her eyes a little bit of solace from the intrusive brightness. 

“Alright y’guys, I’m really tired and I think ‘M gonna head out now.” She could hear Harry announce to the table, pushing his chair back with his legs as he tapped on YN’s thigh with his right hand. Pushing himself up with his legs, he leaned down to whisper a quick ‘get your stuff’ to YN. She agreed without another word, and stood to grab her purse from where it was hung on the chair, pulling it up onto her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling chilly out of nowhere. Harry noticed this– of course he did– and draped the jacket he had resting on his forearm over her shoulders. YN and Harry both said their goodbyes, no one questioning YN packing up her things. Everyone knew that wherever she went he would follow, and wherever he went she would follow.

Slinging his arm over her shoulder, Harry gave one last goodbye from the both of them, before leading her to the back entrance to avoid paparazzi, knowing how much that would hurt her head. He could sense that she was feeling weird from the second she grabbed a seat next to him, but didn’t question her about it. As the night went on, he noticed how she kept blinking harshly, kept rubbing her temples with her fingertips, or rested her forehead on his shoulder for comfort. Suddenly, when she let her head fall, he realized exactly what was happening– she was having a migraine. 

Little to no words were shared between them during dinner in an attempt to catch up with their friends who they’d hadn’t seen in a long time, but they were still reminded of each others presence. Harry's been placing soft kisses onto her hair when he felt the weight of her head drop onto his shoulder while also keeping conversation to whoever he was talking to. YN linked their pinky fingers at the beginning of dinner, letting it hang between the two of them for the rest of the night until she had to rub her temples to try and ease the pain. While they didn’t really speak, they had conversations with their eyes that only they could understand. 

Harry initially checked on her when she lifted her head from his shoulder the third time, turning his head to look at her only to see that she was already waiting for him. He gave her a look that asked if she was okay, and she answered silently with a small head nod. Even though he didn’t buy it, he left it alone since he knew that they’d be leaving soon anyway.

When she finally got to the sweet solace of Harry’s car, a sigh of relief left her at the darkness inside. The interior of his car was all black with tinted windows, so the dim of the streetlights couldn’t bother her as much either. 

“Lovie, y’should’ve told me y’had a migraine, would’ve gotten y’home instantly.” Harry scolds in a low, quiet voice, a frown on his lips when he saw the way she slumped down into the passenger seat, head falling back onto the headrest. 

“I know, I’m sorry. Just looked like you were having fun.” She whispered, knowing her voice at full volume would hurt her head. 

“Y’are way more important to me than a dinner with our friends. We can see our friends whenever, and it would be much more convenient for the both of us if y’were healthy while doing so.” He grumbled, grabbing the steering wheel with his left hand and reaching over to rest his right hand on her thigh. 

“Well, I’m sorry to hear I’m such a burden,” She spat, voice still low. She opened her eyes when she heard nothing but silence to see Harry giving her a look to which she sighed at, grabbing his hand to twist the rings around on his fingers. “I know what you mean. Jus’ being stubborn right now.”

He snorts, “Trust me, I know. ‘S like it’s y’middle name.” He squeezes her hand at the soft laugh she gives, his heart pumping the slightest bit faster.

“Back to mine?” He whispers.

“Obviously.” 

— 2

YN rested her back along the arm of the couch, knees pulled up so that she only took up one cushion. Even if the rest of the couch was completely unoccupied beside her, she wanted to be as respectful as possible. The room was almost full by the way producers, writers, and managers scattered around, but she was only there for one of them; the boy in the booth. Harry’s been recording for about 2 hours now and she knew that he was overdue for a break, however, she also knew that he wouldn’t step foot outside of the booth until what he recorded was 100% to his liking, and they both knew that his perfectionist tendencies was his vice. 

She sat around for a bit longer, silently playing games on her phone mindlessly while periodically checking the time, until she heard a muffled shout come from the booth– the booth that she knew only had Harry in it. Looking up, she saw Harry with the studio headphones pulled down to hang around his neck, stepping to the side so he wouldn’t be shouting into the microphone. She rolled her eyes and stared at him in annoyance, waiting until he would eventually catch her gaze. Right when he did, he could already see the look in her eyes which made him look down ashamedly, taking the headphones from his neck to put on the mic stand, coming out of the booth like a puppy with its tail between its legs. He already knew he was about to get chewed out by the way she looked at him, almost disappointed by the way he seemed to lack self care when he was working. 

“Can we break for a minute, everyone? 30 minutes, tops.” She said loudly enough so everyone could hear her. Everyone immediately agreed and began to shuffle out of the room, leaving only YN and Harry in the space. Once the final person left and they heard the door click shut, she turned her head back to him with a distinct glimmer in her eyes. 

“Really, H?” She sighed, gesturing to him to join her on the couch. She slid her legs down and opened them a little, already knowing that he was going to fall and put his entire weight onto her. And she was right. The second she opened her arms, he slumped down into a sitting position at first, before laying down with his head resting just below her chin, head turned toward the soundboard with a pout on his raspberry lips. 

“I know, ‘M sorry,” He sighed, arms coming round to rest underneath her back in a loose hold, trying to get as much comfort as possible. “Jus’ hate when it doesn’t come out exactly how I envisioned it.” 

“I know, but overworking yourself and your precious voice doesn’t equate to anything and it especially won’t equate to perfection if you’re tired. Looking at it all, especially from my perspective, it jus’ looks like you’re being mean. Like, lashing out on all of those people… they’re tired too, bub. They don’t deserve this kind of treatment from you, especially not when you can help it. Are you seeing what I mean?” She tried to lay it out in the most delicate way possible while also knocking some sense into him, and it all started to make sense to him after all. 

“You do know you need to apologize to them, right?” She mutters into his hair, pressing the tiniest of kisses to his hair. 

“I know.  You’re right. I mean, you’re always right, but you’re especially right, right now. I dunno how y’always know me, or how you always know how t’make it better.” Harry grumbled. He hated this part. He hated when what he was envisioning didn’t come to full fruition right away. 

“It’s because I’m your best friend,” She could feel the way they both collectively tensed at her words, “It’s just what I do. I know you better than anyone else in this world and I have since we were toddlers. There’s no way you can be surprised now, ‘M basically your only friend.”

He laughed along with her, trying his best to mask the rejection he felt when he heard her say that she was his best friend. “Y’are, lovie. The only one who knows me like this.” 

She hummed. “The only one who ever will,” She said in full conviction. He lifted his head to meet her eyes, their faces close to each other. He could feel her breath on his face, and when he went to lift himself up a little to be able to meet her lips, she cleared her throat and nudged up a bit, creating distance between them. 

Tangling her fingers back into his hair, she awkwardly whispered, “Now, rest for a little bit, bub. I’ll wake you up when they’re ready to go.”

— 3

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for YN and Harry to have dinner with each other’s families, but there was something about tonight that made the both of them have a weird twinge in their stomachs that tonight would be different. It started off normal, really. They showed up to YN’s parents house, one of her hands pushed into the crook of his arm. YN had a bottle of wine in her other hand while Harry had his shoved into his pocket. Ringing the doorbell, there was something about the lack of commotion coming from inside that made them share a weird glance, before they shrugged their shoulders in unison and put it to the side when they heard the lock click. 

YN’s mom opened the door with a sheepish grin on her face, and YN already knew she was going to spew out an apology for something.  

“Hi, my loves, missed you. But, before you both come in,” Her mom wiped her hands on the apron tied around her waist, “Uncle Rick is here.” 

YN and Harry both groaned, already dreading the dinner that hadn’t even started. They knew something was up when they didn’t hear the shouts of little kids wrestling each other to get to the door, and now it was completely explained why. 

Uncle Rick was her dad’s estranged brother who had only started coming around 5 or 6 Christmases ago, and the entire family has had a weird dislike for him since the beginning. He was creepy! As simple as that. He used to make weird comments on her and her sisters bodies, and he liked to talk to Harry about how much money Harry had, while also trying to push out a sob story so Harry would flit him some cash. It never worked, by the way. 

“That explains why the rascals weren’t here t’open the door,” Harry muttered, an annoyed and pouty look already on his face. He was excited to see the little ones, and they weren’t even here!

“Harry, stop with the look, don’t be a brat. Both of you, lighten up! I dislike him as much as you do but you two are the only ones who showed up for dinner. Your sisters bailed the second I mentioned him, so please just try to be nice?” YN’s mom scolded Harry. Since they’ve known each other since they were practically still in diapers, she treated him like her own and Anne did the same for YN. 

“I’ll try,” Harry grumbled, patting YN’s bum when her mom stepped out of the way to let them in. Unhooking their arms from each other, they pushed their coats off and hung them up. Turning to each other, they shared a look before inhaling deeply at the same time, entwining fingers. “We got this, lovie. I believe in us.”

YN only nodded, trudging forward with him trailing behind her, his arm lifting a bit from the small pull where their hands were conjoined. Walking into the kitchen, she greeted her dad with a side hug in an attempt to not let go of Harry, before pulling back to let Harry greet him as well. They stepped back and looked at her dad expectantly, a sigh emitting when he saw their faces. “Sorry, kiddos. Would’ve told you, but mom wanted you guys to be here to keep us sane.”

“It’s okay, dad, but you have to shut him down if he says something about me. You promised last time.” She sighed, leaning into Harry the slightest bit for no reason other than familiarity and comfort. 

“I will, Princess. I promise.” He shook his head fast, immediately abiding to the promise he made a couple of months ago. 

“Alright, bub, let’s go say hi,” YN mentally prepared herself as they walked over to the living room, humming when her mom told her to get him for dinner. YN subconsciously tightened her grip on Harry’s hand, him doing the same. “Hi Uncle Rick, you remember Harry, right?”

“How couldn’t I remember? Y’bring that bugger around more than anyone else, I woulda thought he got you locked down. Quite annoying, that one is.” Uncle Rick’s feet were propped up onto the coffee table, a feeling of disgust already swirling in both of their chest when they could smell the mix of beer and smoke oozing from his pores.

“Um– He’s literally right here, and you just called him annoying?” She said quite exasperatedly, a muffled groan leaving her lips. “Whatever, it’s fine. Mom wanted us to tell you that dinner’s ready.”

“God, finally! Your moms been taking forever, annoying how long she takes to get everything ready. I mean, isn’t that her job? To cook and clean? She does a pretty shit job at it if I’m honest.” The man groaned, struggling to even get off the couch. He walked past them and placed a hand on YN’s waist when he passed by, making her jump and twist into the front of Harry’s body. He caught her with ease, letting go of her hand to wrap his arms around her body. He could feel how tense she was, her unease and anger radiating off of her in waves. 

“Fuck. My. Life.” She muttered, leaning her face fully into his chest, banging her forehead against it with each word. Harry hummed, placing a few kisses onto her head to conceal the fact that he too, was bubbling with anger. 

“Gonna kill him, lovie. The fuck was that, anyway? Calling me annoying when I’m right here? 5 feet away from him? Not a lot of cogs turning in tha’ one’s head, I’ll tell ya,” Harry snorted, trying to relax his best friend a little bit. “Calm down, babe, practically shakin’ in m’arms.” 

She sighed, nodding into him. Comfort slowly seeped into her when she felt the gradual pressure of his arms behind her back. “I know, I’m sorry. Thank you for being here, though, you’re the bestest friend I could’ve ever asked for.” 

Harry isn’t afraid to admit his heart shatters the tiniest bit at this. He even goes far to unwrap his arms from her frame prematurely, plastering on a fake smile before she can see the frown he had on. “‘S what I’m here for.” 

A confused look made its way onto YN’s face, wondering what she said wrong to make him let her go. Opening her mouth to ask, she shut it right after she heard her mom call to them.

“Kids, come eat now!” She shouted.

“Coming!” YN called back, giving Harry one last look, a small look of hurt in her eyes, before pivoting on her heel to walk to the dining room. 

They sat down, Uncle Rick at the head of the table with YN and Harry on one side, and her parents on the other. Harry frowned when she didn’t scooch her chair over a bit to be closer to him, and he looked at the amount of space that was between them. Taking initiative, he moved his chair over and rested his hand on her thigh, YN grumbling under her breath but grabbing his hand anyway and interlocking their fingers. Although he was right handed, he’d sacrifice his dominant hand to hold hers any day. 

The four of them talked easily, Uncle Rick staying out of the conversations mainly, but he hummed or protested every so often to give pieces of mind (even though it was severely unneeded).

“So, YN, I heard that you graduated a couple of months out of medical school? How’d that go? Normally girls your age sleep around to graduate from something so difficult, hm?”  Uncle Rick commented disgustingly, food spewing out of his mouth since he was talking with his mouth full.

“Um– sorry, what?” YN choked on the wine she brought, a fiery look already in her eyes. Her parents’ expressions dropped instantly, her dad already trying to sputter out an apology.

“If you’re implying that I slept with the higher ups to graduate then I’m sorry, you’re dead wrong. I worked so hard to get to where I am now, and maybe if you hadn’t been estranged, mind you, we didn’t even know who you were, then maybe you would’ve noticed. Or maybe, you’d still be the same sleazy prick you’ve always been. Either way, it’s no bother to me, I know how you feel after all. The way you try to subtly touch me and my sisters, we all notice it, but we’ve been biting our tongue for so long, because you know what? You’re family. But I’ve honestly had enough of it. Mom, Dad, me and H are leaving, thank you for dinner, but I really, really can’t.” She spewed out without missing a beat, tugging Harry up with her. He turned his head to look up at her, but he could see the upset look in his eyes and stood up without another word. He let go of her hand to go around the table to kiss her moms cheek and to clap her dad on the back. 

He walked over to the threshold to leave, before deciding to give a little to this conversation as well. “Y’know, Uncle Rick, I tried m’hardest to be respectful as well, and I always wanted t’make a good impression, especially since I was with my best friends family, but I’ve been here f’longer than y’have to know that they’d love me either way, so I’ll just say this before I go; I didn’t mind when you’d make comments about me, but it’s another thing when y’making weird comments about her. She’s everything t’me, m’soulmate, really, and I feel bad that you’ve probably never had one. It would explain why y’so miserable, wouldn’t it?” 

Rick tried to say something, but was quickly cut off. “And I pity that you’ll never get to see how wonderful YN is. I really do pity y’for that. She’s incredibly smart, beautiful inside and out, and y’threw away the chance to have something amazing with her. So for your own benefit, I hope something changes f’you so you can get t’know her. But if not, don’t worry, really, we’re very fine off without you, anyway. Goodnight, Y/M/N and Y/D/N, it’s been wonderful seeing y’both again. ‘M sure we’ll be back soon in better circumstances, I hope.” 

And with that, he leaves the kitchen, leaving the three of them in awe.

Grabbing the both of their coats, noticing how YN had forgotten hers, he slammed the door shut and stalked quickly to the car, noticing how she was already in her assigned seat (He’d always joked about how she was the prettiest passenger princess), gnawing on her lips as glimmering tears lay stagnant in her eyes. He walked faster when he clocked this, knowing that her biting her lips was an anxious tic of hers. Popping open the door, he sat and settled into the driver's seat as fast as possible, turning on the ignition to power on the heater as quickly as he could. 

She turned her head to him, and he grabbed the back of her head in a tight hold, his other hand wounding around her waist. Sobs starting to fill the car, followed by soft shushing by Harry. 

“It’s okay, bub, y’so okay, I’m here, it’s okay.” He reassured, heart clenching at the gutwrenching sobs that left her. 

“Love y’so much, you’re s’perfect, and he’s so so wrong. You’re m’best friend in the world, the best person I know... Precious girl, wish y’saw yourself the way I see you.” He placed the softest of kisses to the side of her head, whispering sweet words to her until her sobs calmed and he felt her move her eyes from his shoulder, resting her chin on his shoulder. 

“I love you, H, no one I trust more in this world than you,” She whispered, pulling back to lay her temple on his cheek. Pulling back a little more, they now looked at each other, his eyes searching her watery ones. Their breaths hitched when they realized just how close they were to each other, knowing that if they were to move even an inch their lips would touch. They both moved forward a little, before jumping away from each other when Harry’s elbow pushed a little too hard on the center of the wheel, the horn honking. 

A shy laugh left her lips as she spun back to face the windshield, a soft blush coating her cheeks. “Home?” 

Harry cleared his throat, nodding slowly, a smile growing on his face when he realized that she referred to his house as home. “Yeah, bub, let’s go home.” 

— 4

“Harry! YN! Come in, come in!” They smiled at her friend Alex, who was already noticeably drunk, a pink flush on her cheeks. As much as they didn’t like parties, they decided to show up to Alex’s birthday party, the decision hard for the two of them since they knew it would pretty much be like a party at a frat house. Alex pulled on YN’s hand, dragging her inside to the party, Harry being tugged along as well when he grabbed YN’s outstretched one. They get dragged to the kitchen, being heavily encouraged by Alex to make a drink, before running away when she gets distracted by another one of her friends. 

“I guess bartender Harry’s making an appearance,” Harry shrugged, “What can I make f’you, bub?” 

She tilted her head, thinking it over. “My usual, please.” 

“One cherry vodka with sprite coming right up, sweets!” They talked for a little, giggling when Harry had opened a fresh liter of Sprite to make sure it was safe, which started spewing everywhere and in turn, all over his white shirt. “Fucks sake!” 

“Messy boy.” She giggled, taking the drink with a gracious smile. She took his hand to lead him to the living room, finding a few of her friends and talking to them, also making conversation with Harry who they knew because of how many times he’s met them. When YN had thought about it, she realized that he really is there every single time she goes out with her friends. It’s like she had her own personal bodyguard. 

After a few of her friends had come and gone, she placed her now empty cup on the counter that Harry was resting his back on, trying to stabilize himself as she relaxed herself into his body. “‘M gonna go up and use the bathroom real quick, will you be okay down here?” 

“Of course I’ll be okay, but you be safe, bub.” He sent her away with a pat to her bum, a squeal leaving her lips. He watched her walk away with a smile on his face, not even realizing how lovesick the grin must’ve looked. A poof of blonde hair in front of him distracted him from her figure, and when he looked down, he saw a girl with curled and messy blonde waves, thick eyeliner paired with red lipstick that’d grown messy throughout the night. “Hi?”

“You’re so hot.” Blondie commented bluntly. He stepped back to create some space between them, sliding his arm out of her rough grip. He couldn’t pinpoint the reason why her hands felt like sandpaper on his tanned skin, but it felt like he’d just been burned with a flat iron. 

“Oh, um… thank you? That’s very sweet, but I’ve got a girl-” He started. 

“She doesn’t need to know…” She purred, and disgust filled Harry’s face. 

“I’m flattered, but I really do have a girlfriend, and she’s here with me tonight, I’m not comfortable with this, ‘M sorry.” He tried again, but every time he would take a step backward, Blondie would take a step forward. Can she not take the hint?!

“Is the girlfriend in the room with us?” She started to get annoyed. A small weight lifted from his chest because he thought maybe if she got tired of him, she would just leave. He tried to wait for this plan to work, but he realized he didn’t even need to when he saw his precious girl descend down the stairs. Her eyes caught his, and he tried to iterate in his eyes that he needed help, and fast. She noticed and tried to go down the stairs a bit faster, not even caring if she stepped on someone. She walked fast to close the distance between them, burrowing herself in the space Harry provided when he lifted his arm as she was on her way over. 

“Hi baby,” YN started, pecking a kiss to his cheek sweetly, before turning her gaze to the girl in front of Harry. “Oh! I’m so sorry, that was so rude of me! Hi, I’m Harry’s girlfriend, YN. And you are…?” 

Blondie stared at YN’s outstretched hand in confusion, rolling her eyes and flipping her messy blonde hair over her shoulder, whacking YN in the face with the tips as she walked away. YN pulled a face of disgust, Harry immediately brushing her face off softly with his hand.

“Fuckin’ bitch, thinks she can take y’from me,” YN muttered under her breath, quiet enough to the point that even Harry himself couldn’t hear, which said a lot since they were practically telepathically connected. 

“Hm?” Harry questioned, but she didn’t say a word. 

“Nothing, just crazy to think that these girls think they can get you without getting through me first, that’s all.” She smiled up at Harry innocently. 

He snorted. “I send my luck out to anyone who even ends up trying. Thank you for saving me, bub. I owe you, big time.” 

“Just take me home now. Can we watch a movie?” 

“Anything f’you, Sweetheart.”

— 5

They didn’t really like these galas. 

To be honest, it wasn’t really their scene and they’d much rather be at Harry’s house, cuddled on the couch with her feet on his thighs, his fingers digging into the heels and soles of his feet mindlessly. 

They were in matching outfits, a silky emerald dress hugging her body whilst also accentuating her curves. Harry was clad in a velvety dark green suit, a black button up buttoned to just the middle of his torso matching her black YSL purse that she got as a graduation gift from him (among many other things against her wishes). They walked into the event arm in arm which wasn’t unusual for the pair. She tended to be his date to these once in a while events he’d agree to going to. The two had already walked in whispering and giggling about how they caught Glenne and Jeff sucking face in a darkened hallway near the entrance. 

Harry found a couple of his friends he’d made while in the process of making the album, YN standing close to his side with a polite smile on her face. After a couple of minutes, she’d become thirsty and, unnoticeably to anyone else, tapped her fingers on his forearm that her hand was hanging on. He looked to her, a soft but questioning smile on his face, and she scrunched her nose, clearing her throat to speak. “‘M gonna get a drink, bub. Getting a little thirsty, do you want anything?” 

He shook his head, turning fully to face her. She unhook her hand from the crook of his arm, nodding toward the bar. “D’you want me t’come with you?” 

She shook her head no, already stepping back to move towards the bar. “I’ll be okay, jus’ keep an eye on me in case I need saving, yeah?” 

“Of course, only have eyes f’you anyway.” He unashamedly flirted, chuckling at the bashful look on her face, turning her gaze to anything but him to will away the blush begging to make itself known on her cheeks. 

“Cheeky boy, I’ll be back.” She smiled, shaking her head. He pulled her in a little, pressing a soft kiss to her temple before sending her away, following her figure with his eyes to ensure she was safe on the less than eight feet walk to the bar. Once assured she was there safely, he turned his gaze to his gaggle of friends, making small talk with them, nothing more than work and the weather. He’d shared a couple of laughs before his brain made itself aware that his other half wasn’t back to his side as quickly as it would normally take her, and he turned his head to look for his girl– not his girl, but– no, she was his girl. They’d both known it anyway. 

His heart dropped to about his toes when he saw her turn her head too, a quick panicked glimmer in her eyes. He was unsure if he was reading her correctly, but when he kept his gaze trained on her for a little longer and watched as she gave him the same panicked look, he knew she was in trouble. She looked back forward, trying to be as polite as possible, and he excused himself from the group in the blink of an eye. Striding over as fast as his legs would allow, he slowed his pace down a little to not look suspicious to any onlookers. He found her quickly, her head turning once more, a now relieved and slightly amused look in her eyes. Clocking the creepy looking guy standing in front of her, he said fuck all to looking suspicious and picked up his pace once more. 

He closed the distance between them quickly, pressing his front against her back gently, trying his best to not be overbearing. The heat radiating from his body automatically calmed her, feeling the way he let his arm snake around his waist to let his hand sit on the small space between her hip and her waist, a large tattooed hand resting on her tummy. She placed the drink onto the bar, laying her cold hand onto his warm one. He leaned towards her head, kissing her hair and humming when she leaned her head a bit into his lips. 

“Hi m’love, who’s this?” He asked while tilting his head down to look at her, finding her eyes to send her a message to go along with him. She looked up too, reading his eyes instantly and knowing what they were going to do. Just like they did at the house party, they were going to fake date for a little bit. This was him returning the favor.

“Hi baby, this is Jack, Jack, this is my boyfriend– um… Peter.” She giggled, not being able to think of a better name. “He said that he’s Jeff Azoff’s personal assistant,” Looking toward the guy who shriveled into himself with fear, a smirk present her lips. Obviously they both knew that Jeff didn’t have a male personal assistant– Glenne had given the job to her friend’s daughter, and they were just as close with her as they were Glenne herself. “He even said that he’s gotten to know Harry Styles quite well himself, also offered to take me to meet him after this event, isn’t he so sweet?” 

Harry had to lift a hand to rub his lips to prevent himself from laughing. “Oh yeah, darling, that would be wonderful. Think I can tag along with you? I’m a huge fan, and would love to meet the guy. Tonight might not be the best, though, I heard he’s at a fancy event or something.” 

“Oh, of course, baby, how could I forget? Could I have your phone? I could get Jack’s number so we can arrange something,” Turning to fully face Jack, she giggled a little at the way his complexion now was pale like he saw a ghost. The three of them knew he’d been caught in a lie. She felt the weight of his phone on her hand and pulled it up to her face, her face ID unlocking it instantly. “What was your number?” 

Jack stumbled over his words. “I- um… Uh- I just– Forget it.” Scrambling away as fast as he could, the two laughed together as she turned in his hold. She moved her arm down to drop his phone back into his pocket. She wounded her arms back up to place her arms on his biceps, a satisfied smile on her lips.

“Boyfriend, huh?” He grinned, resting his chin on the top of her head when she dropped it onto his chest, a groan leaving her lips.

“You started it!” She whined, lifting her head back up to meet his green eyes.

“I know, I know. Can’t believe it took you a Rory imposter to call me y’boyfriend, though. Been waiting forever for that, really. Sounds pretty coming from y’lips, if I’m honest.” A sigh tumbled from his lips, trying to subtly let her know what he was feeling. 

“Me too. In our very own romance book, eh? Fake dating trope and all.” She giggled, lifting her arms to wound around his neck, obviously picking up on what he was putting down.

They were finally having their moment. 

“Gonna let me make it real, Sweetheart?” He whispered, ducking his head down to be level with hers. 

“God, hurry up with it will you? Been waiting for this since we were teenag- oh!” She was cut off by his lips on hers. 

It was natural. Of course it was. 

The way their lips met made her truly believe in the romance books she was just joking about not even a second ago. She could taste the sweetness from the cookies they snacked on in the car on the seams of his lips, softness from the chapstick he borrowed from her still moisturizing his lips. He could feel every dip and crevice in hers if he focused enough– as if he wasn’t completely drowning in all of her. Her perfume, her hands on his neck, the taste of her lips. 

Pulling away with a quiet smack, he grinned as widely as humanly possible, bunny teeth making its full appearance, as well as his dimples. He placed another sweet kiss to her nose, making her scrunch up her face.

“Fuckin’ finally. So in love with you, sweet girl, m’best friend.” 

“Mm, love you, H.”

[kitorin]

LOVE ALL PLAY. - ITOSHI RIN

FOUR - SARDINES AND DEBT SARDINES.

contents. unproofread , reader is unhinged ( some dark humour , but i've said much worse tbh ) , written at the time of the 2024 thomas cup so there's stuff about that , sexual humour once again but really subtle

The chime of the bell finally announces break, your sign to finally sit up and to stop napping. With a groan or two accompanied by a groggy yawn, you stretch and you swear something in your back cracks. Multiple times.

“Shut up already, will you?”

Rin grumbles, and even from your peripheral vision you can notice him scowling while shoving everything in his pencil case with an odd fury.

Another yawn claws itself out of your throat, your insolence amplifies it, the exaggeration earns an annoyed but entertaining glare from Rin, and a cheeky grin from you. He doesn’t say anything, his chair yelling as it’s dragged along the floor when he leaves.

“Where are you going?” You intercept his path, pushing your chair backwards too.

Rin walks sideways, slipping between the back of the classroom and your chair. “Bathroom.”

“Can I come?” His features scrunch up in disgust, an amused sneer pounces on your lips as he stalks away with a firm ‘no’.

“Bye bye~” To which, Rin points up the middle finger towards you without so much of a glance, and soon he disappears out the classroom door along with other students.

You gaze remains on him until he’s completely out of view, then it’s rediverted to the bag resting under Rin's table.

With ease, the zip exposes its contents, you scoff to yourself while making use of this opportunity.

His money that he (tried) to pay back makes its return to his possessions, into a random pocket which held nothing but tissues and a box of mints. There goes his two thousand yen.

What part of ‘it’s my treat’ did he not get? You’ll acknowledge his timing and how he managed to slip the money into your bag without you noticing; maybe even applaud him, but if you say you’re paying, then you’re paying.

“Um.” Isagi approaches you, greeting you with the slight tug of your sleeve. “l/n, what are you doing to Rin’s bag.”

The worry on his face tells you that you’ve behaved too suspiciously (a fair reaction, you just snooped into another’s bag). “Givin’ Rin his money back.” Hands go up in the air, opened. “Don’t worry, I’m not stealing shit from anyone.”

To this, Isagi sighs with relief, his features relax into a polite smile. “Sorry for suspecting you.” You wave it away, leaning on your desk. “Speaking about money, I need to pay you back too.”

His hand digs around his pocket, but you interfere, placing yours on his wrist. “No you don’t.”

“But—”

“Shhhh.” A finger goes on his lip. “Pay me back with your time, I’ll be spending the money.” The wink was the cherry on top, and you swear Isagi goes pink.

“I knew you said you were acquainted with y/n, but not in that way.” Anri observes from behind Isagi, who yelps and immediately waves his hands.

“It’s not what it looks like, I swear.” You swallow a giggle, almost trembling from amusement. Anri still gazes at him with doubt, but nods anyways.

“I just came up here to ask you about how soccer’s been going. Coach wanted me to ask you about anything you wanted to improve on.”

Aaaand that’s your queue to leave. “I’ll see you later ‘ichi! I’ll leave you guys to it.” You skip out of the room, leaving a flustered Yoichi explaining the situation to a confused Anri.

Rushing past people and down the stairs (and barely dodging Yukimiya, who was carrying a large stack of books precariously), you make your way to class B, where Hiori resided. He’s your victim for today.

You peek through the open sliding door, and immediately met with a disgusted look from him.

“Do you sprint here or something?” He opens his lunchbox. “Don’t you have other friends to bother?”

A chair groans loudly as you drag it across the floor. “You’re my favourite.”

Hiori deadpans. “Great. What an honour.”

“Have you been watching highlights?” You unwrap your own lunchbox, noticing how Hiori had rested his phone against his pencil case.

"Yeah." Hiori turns his phone and its temporary stand towards you.

"You should've stayed up to watch it with me." Watching games live with Hiori was always a blast, screaming at the TV together through a phone call and placing bets (which consisted of free passes to yell at each other). But with Hiori insisting that he has to sleep more, you refrained from talking about the results. "I mean, you'd make it to school even if you slept in."

He unplugs his headphones, stuffing them into the pocket of his trousers. "I was exhausted. I would've passed out midway as well."

"I didn't even tell you about that—"

"You didn't have to. You sounded like you were going to drop dead during Malaysia and Japan's match last night."

"My bed was comfortable."

Hiori sighs as he gets out his chopsticks out. "Sure buddy." He frowns. "Maybe I should stay up next time. First result on youtube spoiled the result for me."

"Seeee?" China had emerged victorious, 3-1, a shame since the two of you were cheering on for Malaysia, after they defeated Japan the previous night.

"Was each game at least close?"

"Not really. In the singles games Lee Zii Jia seemed to struggle, and Leong was close in the first set." It was a shame, especially when Lee had been playing so well the night before, and was close to winning the first set. You also swore you noticed a point of his not being counted, but with Shi Yuqi's significant advantage, realistically, it wouldn't've made much of a difference. "I passed out for Goh and Izzuddin though."

Hiori shoots you a glare, one that screams I told you so.

"Shi Yuqi plays so well...even if Lee Zii Jia was in his best form I doubt it would've been easy." Hiori keenly watches his phone. "Makes sense because he's second in the world but wow."

You nod. "I should watch more of his games."

Watching full matches had never occurred to you, you viewed highlights and compilations of the sport's best shots, but watching the full game seemed like a hassle. You followed Coach's recommendation, and enjoyed it much more than expected.

The two of you watch in silence, while eating, as Shi Yuqi's score rose rapidly. "Shame they didn't add the part with his abs." Hiori chokes on his rice, coughing and gulping down tea from his water bottle.

"They're very nice abs." You add on, as if clarification was really necessary.

Hiori finally swallows, hand on his throat just to be sure. "We were told to watch professionals to learn. I don't think you're learning."

"I'm learning of this man's beauty. Besides there's no harm in appreciating how hot these people are as well."

"You only use 'as well' when you do both things."

"I did."

He doesn't seem to mind when you pull out your phone and vigorously type. "Name at least one takeaway then."

"Aim at the opponent's dominant side's hip."

The video gets paused. "You already do that."

"Not as well as the pros do." Your thumb eagerly taps the right constantly, in search of the point you were searching for. "I hit in the right side, but at the body or between the arm and hip is better."

"At least you learnt something." He mumbles.

You turn off your phone, placing it under your bottom lip and letting it rest there. "There was also how easy it is for someone to break."

Curiosity blooms across his features. "What do you mean?"

"When we played Malaysia, Nishimoto was in first singles against Lee Zii Jia."

"Right."

"And he didn't do that well. At first I thought it was just a significant difference in skill. But he's only one rank below him, and I saw a reel the other day and he only lost a set by two points and won the next one."

Hiori nods, letting you continue.

"He must've been flustered. And the next game Lee Zii Jia played the same thing happened to him. I guess Shi Yuqi was a lot higher ranked but y'know. There were a lot of shots I swear he could've returned. And in previous games even when he lost he was still close."

"I guess the same thing happened. Being nervous and losing confidence during a match. It's the sort of thing you'd only get through experience too. Or having a therapist that specialises in sports psychology." He absentmindedly plays with his rice, gathering the final bits into one bite. "There was a lot of pressure too, quarter and semi finals. Not to mention it's their career."

You nod, staring at the wooden floor.

"Why? Are you worried the same will happen to you?"

"I wanna do that to our opponents at national qualifications."

Hiori shoots you a disgusted look. "Oh my god you don't know how weird that sounds."

"What? The Stasi did that to political opposition and it worked—"

"Don't compare the fucking GDR secret police's psychological torture to a sport."

"Fine, fine—but my point still stands. If we can pull that off then it'll make stuff easier."

"We can talk to Coach about it. Also, did she tell you about the playing order?"

She hadn't. "Nope, what happened?"

Hiori sighs, as if it's difficult news. "We can't do doubles together."

"What do you mean??"

It comes out much louder than intended, as you stand up hurriedly and everyone turns towards the yell of your chair, almost capsizing. You mumble out a 'my bad' and an awkward slight bow.

"She wants to swap me and Nanase for first singles. Since he needs to focus on studying for college, and she reckons I can do well in singles as well." He counts off each member. "You're in first singles, Kurona's good at predicting stuff and setting up attacks, but he's struggling with offense. Kiyora's already doing third singles and only because he's the best option available. Nanase's done fine, he just wants to focus on getting into college so he asked to swap with someone."

Hiori also playing in singles simply means it's against the rules for the two of you to do doubles together.

"I see." It's been a dream for you to compete properly alongside Hiori, but there's nothing you can do about it, and you have plenty of opportunity as a first year. "It's fine, we have the next two years left."

"Yeah, we'll play together eventually. Plus, I'm looking forward to singles too. It's a win either way, Nanase can play and study and I get to learn more."

"Mhm, we're doing everyone else an honour."

"What do you mean by that?"

"We're the strongest. We should at least give others a chance before we go dominate the country."

Hiori blinks. "I can't believe you."

"C'mon, you know I'm right." You tease and prod, but deep down believe in. As long as Hiori's by your side, you feel as though nothing appears to be a challenge. "We'll give them a chance this year."

"I can't with you." But Hiori grins. "We'll win either way."

You nod, high fiving him in agreement. "Also, this is the highlight I was talking about." You had finally found the moment you were talking about, before discussing strategy; pointing the phone at him.

"Fine. He does look good though. Really good." You raise an eyebrow at Hiori staring for a bit too long, to which he shoos you away and mutters something about you influencing him negatively.

Why did I have to be separated from Hiori...?

You stare at the front without a thought, disappointed and still hungry (It's not your fault your mouth had better things to do), and dreading history. Your head goes back to rest on your arms, preparing for another long, nice nap before training.

"I thought you were a good student."

Rin comments, seating at his usual spot next you, a bit of sweat framing his face with his hair.

"I'm smart. There's a difference."

"A smart person would be listening."

"A smart person doesn't need to listen to a teacher waffle on about dead people and whatnot."

"There's more to history than dead people—" He's silenced by a familiar scold from the front.

"Itoshi, how many times do I have to tell you to be quiet?" You swallow down laughter, but don't bother concealing the proud grin on your face. "And y/n, you haven't even opened your book." Now it's Rin's turn to smirk.

"Sorry sir." Confident but not arrogant, you apologise, earning a mumble but sir returns to his lesson anyways. You'll do the bare minimum of pretending to take notes, you open up your textbook, then your pencil case. A two thousand yen note falls out.

You know exactly where this is from.

"Idiot."

"Fucking bastard." You mumble back.

You'd wrestle your way to his bag and shove it right back into his wallet, where it belongs, but with your teacher already sick of your shit you resort to something else.

With an annoyingly loud (but not too loud) rip, a page comes out of your notebook.

Take your fucking money you idiot.

its yours i owe you

I never said you needed to pay me back, did I?

and i never said i cared about that

I'm going to punch you.

sure have fun in detention and never competing

To be honest, he had you there.

You're a debt sardine.

Rin stares at your with disgust, as he continues to scrawl and pass the sheet to you. Quite aggressively, too.

what the fuck is that

Like a debt shark But reversed Since you keep thinking you're in debt And sharks are pretty fucking cool so you're not a reverse debt shark

Sardine isn't the right fish. At least those are yummy. If Rin were a fish he'd be dry, obnoxiously salty and bad for your skin (eating him would make you break out).

you sound like a kindergartener

And you sound like a debt sardine.

Rin's left fist tightens, lividly.

then your just a sardine no debt a miserable sardine

Of course he would. Of course Itoshi Rin would make such fatal mistake.

*you're just a sardine

He slams his fist against the table, and sir does the same with chalk against blackboard.

"Why are you like this?"

Hiori punctuates his words with light pants, whereas you don't find the breath to, thanking god for the final lap reaching it's conclusion.

"Not my fault he keeps trying to pay me." He gives you a moment to pant a bit. "I'm going to shove this right up his ass if he doesn't stop." As annoying as it is, bill remains in your pocket, you grip it from outside with frustration.

"You sound happy." Kurona murmurs. "I've never seen someone so insistent to not be paid back."

You grab him by the shoulders and gently shake him. "I told him it was my treat. It's not a treat if he pays me back."

Kurona agrees with a hum and a nod. "I guess that's irritating. At least you have good reason. Reason."

Kiyora peers over Kurona, doing a cross arm stretch with his racket in one hand. "It's a free two thousand yen. If you don't want it I'll have it." He eyes your pocket, and you instinctively turn your right thigh away.

"If I do anything other than return it then he wins—"

"Two thousand yen is two thousand yen."

"He called me a sardine—"

Kiyora doesn't counter, he's too busy stifling a laugh. "Really?"

"Yeah—"

"Whitebait suits you more. Sardines are too big for you."

He's lucky you don't have your racket, nor a shuttlecock. "Come here you little shit, you're only five centimetres taller." You lunge forward for a (gentle) kick but he dodges, delivering a flick to your forehead.

"Five centimetres is five centimetres. That's massive, no?"

Kiyora's fast, probably the fastest in the club. You counter it by pouncing on him. "Not even average."

He yells. "Coach, it's attacking me again."

"Kiyora, good luck fighting whitebait then." Coach Akiba doesn't bat an eye, checking if each net was set up correctly.

"Coach are you agreeing with him?" The betrayal. She's strict yet gets along well with everyone, but you never expected her to side with Kiyora.

"If it'll get you off of him yes, c'mon, you're here to practice. Go join wrestling if you want to jump on other boys." She calls everyone else other (in other words, Kurona, Hiori, and Nanase) and you release Kiyora.

"For someone so short you weigh so much..."

You shrug. "I like food."

"And I'd like it if you guys would shut up because I don't want to run anymore laps." Hiori says, not very quietly. "Hurry up you idiots."

Coach shoots a glare, that's more than enough for you and Kiyora to scramble towards everyone else.

"Right. Now that we're adjusting our playing order, we're going to get Hiori and l/n to try out different pairs." You and Hiori share a glance. "Play a set, write down who wins, then swap. I'll do drills with whoever's not on. Sounds good?"

Strong and united, a confident 'yes' echoes in the gymnasium.

"Hioriiiin I'm ready to off myself and go see jesus."

He ignores your whining, swallowing a large gulp of energy drink. "You're not even religious."

Hiori stares at you with disappointment, while you lie on the gym floor. You muster up the strength to roll over onto your stomach. "So it's you and Nanase, me and Kurona..."

You roll back around, sitting up and accepting a drink from Hiori's. "Called it. They're the most balanced options too."

Nanase's tactical and defensive style compensates for your impulsive offense, which makes up for his fear of risk taking. Getting into nationals should be in the bag, you cover Nanase's weaknesses and he covers yours.

The only worry is singles.

"Good job y/n, you did great. Great." Kurona pats your back, settling down next to you to stretch. "Summer really sucks, doesn't it? My hair feels all sticky 'n gross." He eyes his braid, holding it up with his fingers in disgust.

You lean forward to touch your toes. "You too, Kurona. I hate you for making me run so much though." The amount of trickshots he had under his sleeve was impressive, you'd sell a kidney to do them half as well as him, or at all. "Only two months until qualifiers start..."

"We'll be fine." Nanase joins the small circle of you, Kurona, and Hiori. "Haven't known ya long but ya improving a lot already."

"What are the opponents like?" Hiori pushes against Kurona's back after he asked. "How come our school's never been to nationals?"

"I've never been to qualifications. Before you two it was just the three of us."

"Actually?" You whip around to Nanase. "Then it's also Kurona's first time competing for a place at nationals."

Nanase nods. "Before Kurona there were a bunch of third years. They got close but Kamakura High beat them in semi finals."

"Are they the powerhouse of our province?" If that's the case then they would've went to nationals at least once in recent times. There should be something online to analyse if you dig around hard enough. You pirate plenty of shows, footage of national comps shouldn't be that bad.

"Exactly. We lost 3-2. Coach only put on the best members." Nanase takes off his headband, about to wring it out for sweat before deciding that'd be too gross for now. "There was a really good player that was my age though. He played in doubles, he's definitely going to be a big threat now."

"What his name, name?" Kurona pulls out his phone. "We could find something about him online."

"Ryuusuke? Ryuuji? It's been a while I've completely forgotten." Your senior scratches his head.

"Eh. We can ask someone else no?"

"y/n, ya know I'm the only person left from the club since three years ago."

Your jaw drops. "Actually?"

He nods. "Actually. I was the only first year that joined. That's why I was relieved that we just had enough to enter a competition thanks to you guys."

Silence prevails for a while. Kurona stares at god knows what in the distance and Hiori fiddles with his fingers. Nanase seems fine though, smile remaining without falter.

"Is our sport really that unpopular?" Hiori's brow furrows. "I know soccer and volleyball are massive but we only have the bare minimum. Which is like, crazy."

"And Kiyora had to go home early." Kurona adds.

"If we don't do well it'll be the end for us." You vocalise what everyone's been thinking, an uncomfortable truth. The school won't bother with a team that's barely counted as one and doesn't produce any results.

"That gives us more reason to train hard, doesn't it?" Nanase still grins without a sign of it fading soon. "Bare minimum or not I'm grateful to have you guys here, I want to the best we can for my upperclassmen's sake.

You slap your cheeks, to which Hiori flinches out of surprise. You jump to your feet. "Nanase's right, we have to make the most of what we've got. I'll destroy Kamakura High and that Ryuuji guy."

Nanase chuckles. "Pretty sure it was Ryusei."

"Ryusei's the energetic one on our soccer team." Hiori corrects. "But yeah, you're right. No point in sulking. Why'd you stand up to say that though?"

You shrug. "It just happened."

Hiori laughs, a giggle cascading into almost wheezing.

"Shut up." He doesn't, you're ready to tackle him.

"Oh, Coach!" Nanase waves to her, and never mind, tackling Hiori will be for another day. "Is everything okay?"

She hurries to where the four of you sat. "Just a couple of phone calls with other schools."

"About national qualifications?" You can't name anything else it could be, maybe joint training.

"You could say that." She glances at her watch. "I'll have to lock up soon, you all ready to go?"

"Yeah, we just finished with stretching." Everyone else nods in agreement, you stand up and they do the same. "Thank you for today."

"Good work today, take it easy and rest plenty on the weekend, okay? Get home safely."

"I don't like where this is going."

Hiori complains, but follows you to the classroom anyways.

"What are you on? Now is perfect. They're still in the middle of a practice match." And you're spot on, you can see them play from the window, tiny dots chasing around an even tinier dot; black and white blurring into grey.

Nanase and Kurona were long gone, going their respective ways while you went on your little side quest; returning the money.

"You look like you're trying to rob him." Yet here he is, accompanying you as you make your way to where you sit together. "You guys are lucky, the view's nice from here."

"Yeah but to look at the view I have to look at Rin, to look at Rin means to declare war against him." Rin had left his stuff on his table, so had Isagi, the muscular friend of Isagi and the hyper friend of Isagi (you never learnt their names).

Hiori nods, definitely to get you to shut up rather than out of understanding. "What's this?" He grabs the sheet of paper near the bottom of your desk, opening it. "Oh my."

Without looking up from Rin's bag, you reply. "That's what I was talking about. When he got yelled out then sent out."

"I can see why he's so angry all the time now..." Hiori skims through the 'conversation' you and Rin were having in class. "By the way, won't he know if you just put it into his bag again?"

"That's why." You pull out his lunchbox, wrapped in fabric. "I'll slip it into the fabric. So he won't notice until he gets home."

"Should I be impressed or disappointed at the amount of effort you put into this?"

You pack up Rin's stuff. "Disappointed. At Rin, not me." There you go, it's as if you never snooped around. "C'mon, let's get out of this place."

Hiori nods, readjusting the strap of his bag on his right shoulder in the hallway.

"Gimme that." Hiori tries to protest, but it's easy to take away from him. "My bag's lighter than yours anyways."

"But still—"

"Nope. You pushed yourself a lot during training."

"I wonder who's fault that was." You both know it was you; always aiming for any neglected areas of the court, forcing him to run and dive everywhere. You shrug, rushing ahead of him anyways. "Thanks though." He rolls his right shoulder a few times before catching up.

"No worries." It's not heavy, not remotely if it's for the sake of him. "By the way, didn't coach seem off today?"

"Yeah. But I'm not sure if I've known her long enough to make that sort of observation."

Good point, maybe you'll check with Nanase. "That's true."

"You look awfully happy." Hiori comments simply. "Was returning his money that important?"

"Nope! I just feel excited for qualifications. I mean we finally have a coach and have a team now. High school's so good."

It's thrilling, even if it's a bare necessity for any athlete it's a luxury in your eyes. Gourmet you've never tried, grandeur that you couldn't afford.

And there's Hiori.

You stare at the roof in awe, for no apparent reason; just caught up in fantasy. Scoring a beautiful match point and moving onto nationals, screaming in triumph and running into Hiori's arms. "I'm going to soar higher than ever and I get to do it with you."

"I like that." His pink lips curl into a smile, eyes squinting with joy. "We'll beat Kamakura High."

"Then to the nationals we go! Let's go get shaved ice today! We deserve it. Just because."

"Just because." Hiori echoes with a smile.

THREE | MASTERLIST | FIVE

pairing. itoshi rin x reader

synopsis. all itoshi rin ever wanted was a peaceful high school career, his plans go to ruin thanks to the school's badminton genius; entangling their lives—and emotions together.

contents. rivals to lovers, badminton player!reader, sports romance, fluff, high school au

a/n. malaysia v china has made me a shi yuqi fan (haven't watched him before but GOD DAYUM he's so cool and yes i'm projecting onto reader). also i tried to depict the kansai dialect the same way english manga does (idk what i'm doing)

taglist. @yuzurins, @silly-ez, @chigirizzz, @kaiserkisser, @httpshujii, @saesins , @yoimyas , @saetorinrin, @hxniplayz , @certaindreamchopshop , @rroxii , @jar-03m, @celestair , @satoruukisser , @kaitfae , @biaonww , @hellothere9597 , @its-ur-pillow, @saesofficialwife, @miyanaranagikenmal-intp , @popponn , @kascar-chronicle , @junberrry , @sereniteav , @raphsimp, @lectris00

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

[svltzmans]

waves - r.b.

surfer!reader x lifeguard!robin

robin moves as far away from hawkins as she can - to california. to afford her rent she picks up a lifeguard gig at the local beach, and meets someone she could have only dreamed about in hawkins.

warnings: implied smut, injury, (almost) drowning, unproofread writing Lol

a/n: HI GAY PEOPLE OMG!!! i truly was not expecting so many people to see my last post and all of your likes made my day omg <3 i've been on vacation and thinking about this robin au for days so i knew i had to write it. i hope you like it <3 my request box is always open if you have any ideas of something you want to see me write!!

robin wasn't quite sure what the breaking point was that forced her out of hawkins, but considering her trauma related to the starcourt mall (and the events that followed) and the constant homophobia, she wasn't surprised.

california seemed ideal. everyone there looked eccentric and cool. robin was hopeful that she would be able to make new friends, even though she had promised steve she would stay in touch.

she packed everything she had into the trunk of her old convertible and drove across the country, feeling terrified to be leaving everything she knew, while simultaneously feeling a sense of freedom that nothing could damper.

she had managed to afford a one-bedroom apartment off the coast that she spent all of her savings on, although it was completely worth it. she was free. like, really free.

despite her sense of freedom, robin needed a job. her savings from scoops ahoy and family video could only get her so far, leading her to start applying everywhere she could find. record shops, libraries, cafés. anywhere that had a bright "we're hiring!" sign in the window.

but no luck.

robin was feeling exasperated trying to find a job. the stress was getting to her quite a bit, and the thought of having to move back home came to mind.

she had the same coping mechanism ever since she was in middle school, and nothing had changed with her big move.

"fuck it," she thought. "i'm going on a walk."

she threw on her converse and a light hoodie (it got cool at night, she remembered), and stepped outside the apartment.

as dusk fell over california, robin's walk led her to the most beautiful beach she had ever seen, albeit one of the only ones. she was from indiana, after all.

the waves were crashing quietly yet so loudly at the same time, and robin found herself mesmerized by the sound.

she scanned the beach, realizing she was one of the few individuals left. a young couple and their dog and an older gentleman walking by himself were the only other inhabitants of the beach at that hour.

she quickly forgot about her solitude when her eyes landed on a "lifeguards wanted" sign hanging on the back of one of the many lifeguard chairs.

bingo.

lifeguard training was much easier than robin had anticipated. she found out through her week long excursion that she was a much better swimmer than she'd imagined, and that it seemed like the town she was living in would hire just about anyone as a lifeguard. it was truly lucky.

admittedly, she was nervous. she didn't know if she'd actually be capable of saving someone's life in any capacity. at the same time, however, she was ready to try.

the first several days of being a lifeguard went off without a hitch, albeit a bit of boredom. it wasn't exactly the most fun job, getting nasty sunburns and staring off into the ocean while listening to screaming little kids.

that was, until, she noticed a young woman running towards the water with a surfboard, her salty waves blowing in the wind.

"holy shit," robin thought.

robin was absolutely fixated. she couldn't keep her eyes off the mysterious surfer, watching in awe as she caught countless waves and rode them back to the surface of the sand.

robin took note of the way the surfer's bodysuit hugged her curves in all the right places. she had to keep herself from drooling and focus on the fact that she had to potentially keep a beach full of people alive.

but every day, the surfer was there. the same time every afternoon with her surfboard. robin couldn't avoid her. so she stared, and stared, and stared...

robin quickly started looking forward to heading to work, knowing she would get to see the hottest girl she had ever seen, in a skin-tight body suit, no less.

although many days came and went without robin having to make any saves, she knew she would eventually have to put her training to use, and she was right.

the beach was practically completely empty, with the local news warning of the roughness of the tide and the danger of swimming in the ocean.

nonetheless, the mysterious surfer was still effortlessly catching each wave as she did every day.

robin watched closely, seeing the ways the surfer climbed up onto her board and balanced herself so perfectly.

she had never wanted to learn to surf so badly.

while robin continued to gawk, she noticed that the surfer was losing her footing as the waves got rougher. she struggled to get back onto her board and stand up without wiping out.

robin knew in her heart that this was bad. really bad.

as she continued to watch, she witnessed the wavy haired surfer get hit with a wave, knocking her below the surface of the water. her board emerged, floating without the beautiful girl on top of it.

without thinking, robin sprung into action. grabbing her gear, she dove headfirst into the ocean and swam as fast as humanly possible. she was pumped full of enough adrenaline to not feel tired, despite this being the most intense workout of her life.

reaching the spot the young woman had fallen, robin finally sees her emerge from underneath the water, struggling to catch her breath. robin instinctively grabs her and lifts her up, holding her high above the surface.

"hey, hey, it's okay. i got you. you're safe," robin coos, watching as the surfer's face starts to gain color again.

the surfer coughs, trying to regain her strength.

"well, that fuckin' hurt," the surfer mutters, letting out a dry laugh. her accent is so undoubtedly californian.

"holy shit. i'm glad you're okay. you had me scared there," robin utters, suddenly becoming very nervous with the beautiful sight in front of her.

"isn't it, like, your job to see this stuff happen?"

"well, yeah, but it never has actually happened before."

"so i'm your first save, huh?"

"i guess you could say that, although you kinda saved yourself."

the still unknown surfer laughs quietly.

"i'm y/n."

"robin. we should probably get out of this water now."

"yeah, i think so. although i can't believe it calmed down enough for us to swim after i almost died."

the pair both chuckle at that.

robin and y/n finally swim to shore, robin quickly grabbing a towel and throwing it to y/n, who is still shivering.

in a moment of bravery, robin decides to try to get closer to y/n's freezing frame.

"do you want to go back to my apartment to warm up? it's like, a block from here," she asks, taking in y/n's face up close. it's covered in freckles and a light tan from the sun.

"that would be great, actually," y/n responds. "i think i might have hypothermia."

"okay, let's not be dramatic here," robin laughs, beckoning the girl to follow her.

as the two women enter the apartment, y/n sighs with relief, feeling the warm air of robin's new home.

"it's so nice in here," she compliments.

robin simply smiles, taking in the sight in front of her. y/n's wet hair is thrown into a bun, and her cheeks are newly rosy after being blue for quite some time after being in the water.

"let's get you something warm to wear, okay? i don't want you to actually get hypothermia," robin flirts.

"yeah, that would suck a lot," y/n responds, gently chuckling at robin's jest.

robin leads y/n to her bedroom where she lends her some warm clothes to change into. she begins to leave the room, but as she does, y/n rips off her bodysuit, revealing a matching pink bra and underwear set.

robin knows she shouldn't stare, but she can't help herself. she's in a trance, staring at y/n from the doorway.

before she can leave, y/n turns around.

"like what you see, huh robbie?"

did she just... call her robbie?

completely in shock, robin just nods. she can't manage to respond verbally.

y/n doesn't feel cold anymore. her body is full of heat now that she had caught the lifeguard watching her change.

she approaches robin, her hands quickly finding her waist and pulling her closer.

before either of them know it, their lips are clashing, and they collapse on the bed.

"you saving my life today was pretty cool," y/n mutters. "but you being so fucking hot is a huge bonus."

a/n: should i do a part 2 to this this was so fun to write

[verdantcrimson]

Gourmand Fragrance Chapter List

Written by: Kanata Haruka

Status: Complete, Unproofread

Season: Winter

Characters: Keito, Kuro, Souma, Rei, Tomoya, Nazuna, Mitsuru, Hajime, Anzu

With the theme of 'Wagashi as the star of Valentines day', Keito decides to take on the challenge of creating fitting traditional Japanese sweets for Valentines. He conducts some market research alongside Nazuna.

Wagashi Revolution: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

[hunluan-writes]

can we get some psyborg smut? Please? -Starved Stargazer&Comfydant

PSYBORG OMG I WAS LITERALLY WATCHING THEM BEING CUTE A COUPLE DAYS AGO I GOT U MY FELLOW STARGAZER AND COMFYDANT

and looking at ship art on pinterest along with some sonnyban ❤❤

PSYBORG BULLSHIT GO-

PSYBORG SMUT FIC (CLEARLY SCUFFED AND UNPROOFREAD) Summary: Uki's a bit drunk and Fulgar tries to get his ass to bed. Ends up being more than just that... after a night of sleep of course because Fulgar as you see in Ukimama's (drunk) streams always takes care of him. Author's note: I had to do a lot of research because I haven't done a mlm smut fic in so long 😭😭 cute fluff sprinkled in bc yeah ty for requesting my first ever request wahhhh WARNING: WOAG GAY MEN HAVING SEX?! NSFW?! MINORS DNI?! Or not idgaf THERES PLOT FIRST BECAUSE UHH

"Fufu-chaaaaan," Uki whines softly, a smile playing on his lips. "Can you give me a kiss?"

"Uki, we're on stream," Fulgar laughs and elicits another drawn out sigh from the Psychic. "We're on call with the others."

"Yeah save it for later," Alban jokes light-heartedly. Sonny makes an agreeing noise.

Uki whines a bit more before going silent. The rest of them continue their conversations with one another. Little did the others know that Uki and Fulgar were actually in the same house together. They decided to meet each other IRL and was planning to do an off-collab. The two hit off right away, conversations full of laughter and affection.

"Fufu-chan, you're so cute," Uki mumbles, leaning back in his chair and his head resting on the headrest. His eyes began to flutter. "Very cute."

"Well, you're cuter Ukiki," Fulgar laughs and Uki could hear him from the other room. Uki smiles gently. "Remember to drink some water and eat some food, yeah?"

Uki murmurs a "mhm" before his eyes flutter shut. The talk of his friends became like background music to him and he began to nod off. The others haven't realized just yet until the Comfydants began asking questions.

"Hey, Uki, are you alright? I just realized when the Comfydants kept asking heavily."

"Uki?"

Startled awake upon hearing his name, Uki sits up and sits straight, rubbing his eye. He says with a drowsy and drunken tone, "Huh yeah?"

"Were you sleeping?"

"Yeah, sorry... you guys were just talking and I feel asleep. Like, background music. I think I might've dozed off for a few..."

Fulgar nods. "Uki, would you like to end your stream and just chill in mine? Or if you're really tired, you can just end stream and go rest."

"...yeah." Uki mumbles, agreeing to the first option.

"Alright, alright," Fulgar replies softly. "Whenever you feel like you need to go, I'll continue or just end stream."

The crew say their goodbyes and Uki goes to Fulgar's stream. They talk for a good half an hour, and Fulgar notices how sleepy Uki seems.

"Uki..." he starts with a chuckle. "Are you sure you don't want to sleep?"

"'M fine," Uki responds, all the while with a yawn. "I want to stay and talk to you more, Fu-chan..."

"You can later. you need to rest. I will end this stream," Fulgar threatens, but he says it with a smile on his lips.

Uki sighs heavily. "At least give me a kiss first."

"I will if you listen first."

Uki rolls his eyes with a laugh. "Fine."

Fulgar waits until Uki logs off completely. He talks to his Comfydants a bit more before finally saying his farewells. He switches off and removes his headphones. He rises to his feet and stretches for a moment.

He opens the door carefully and walks out the room. They booked a hotel together for a good couple of days. It was a nice place, and they got separate rooms. The two mostly spent their time in the living room, where they would relax with each other. Fulgar enjoyed his time with Uki; the Psychic had such a soothing prescence and never once made the Cyborg feel uncomfortable. In fact, he felt very at home with Uki. And he always made sure to let Uki know that. Uki was very dear to Fulgar, and he always wanted to make sure Uki was okay as a whole.

He steps close to Uki's door, rapping the wood with his knuckles gently. A slurred, "come in" answered and Fulgar enters. He finds the purple-haired man laying on his bed, a hand to his forehead. As Fulgar approaches him, he sees a flush to Uki's cheeks. Fulgar stands over Uki with a chuckle, Uki watching him with soft and bleary eyes.

"Now, where's my kiss, Fufu-chan?" Uki asks, letting his hand rest on his chest now.

"Yes yes, you're getting the kiss you oh-so deserved." Fulgar leans down with a playful grin, his lips brushing against Uki's forehead for a brief moment. He quickly stood back up and turned his back, his heart rate strangely increasing and a heat to his cheeks. "Well, good night Uki. Have a nice rest."

His metal hand wraps around the door knob and he was just about to open the door when the Psychic calls out quietly, "Fufu-chan."

Fulgar turns his head, cocking it to the side. "Yes?"

Uki gazes at him for a good minute, his expression blank. He whines softly, "Can you stay? just until I fall asleep?"

"...oh." Fulgar blushes a tad, smiling affectionately. He expected it, but also didn't quite expect it either. "Of course. Anything for you, babe."

Uki laughs and turns on his side to watch Fulgar places himself in the chair at Uki's desk, where Uki was previously streaming. His pretty eyes twinkle and crinkle a bit, obviously finding Fulgar endearing. It was kind of hard to connect to someone on such a level, but here he was, wanting to be with one person and that person was Fulgar Ovid.

"Would you like me to sing a lullaby?" Fulgar teases, resting a elbow on the armrest with a expressive wave of his hand.

"Thatd be nice, actually," Uki smirks, his hair falling in his face.

Another chortle from Fulgar as he opens his mouth to sing a sweet melody just for Uki Violeta.

Uki woke first, groaning softly as he turns onto his back. He lays there for awhile, eyes closed as he breathes, his slight migraine subsiding with each exhale. Uki hears another set of breaths and he opens an eye. Fulgar sat in his chair, fast asleep. Slightly leaning to the left, arms on arms rest and his legs crossed at the ankles. Fulgar's expression is peaceful and at ease, soft snores filling the air. Uki smiles at the sight, the sweet and funny Cyborg sleeping in the same room as him with such a sweet expression.

Uki rolls out of bed quietly and tiptoes to Fulgar. He stands in front of him, just observing him. His ruffled clothes, his smooth hair that covered his eyes, his jawline, his partly opened mouth. God, never has Uki wanted to kiss someone so bad before. His heart races at the thought of it, and his cheeks flame a bit.

'He wouldn't want to kiss me,' he thought to himself, leaning down so his face was level with Fulgar's. 'Although he did give me a goodnight kiss, I don't think it was anything more... but I wish it was.'

Uki brushes Fulgar's hair out his face, his fingertips trailing down to his jaw and then cupping his face with one hand. It fit perfectly in his palm he noted, rubbing gentle circles against Fulgar's cheek bone. The Cyborg makes a small sound and it takes all of Uki's will to not recoil immediately. He was afraid he had waken him up, but Fulgar just shifts, towards Uki's touch with a content exhale.

Uki's heart swells. Oh. My. God. He presses his lips together to stop a related squawk from slipping past his lips. Holy shit, this man was fucking adorable!

Uki wanted to return the kiss from last night suddenly. (Or rather, he just wanted an excuse to have contact with Fulgar's skin with his lips.) He inches closer to Fulgar's face, anxiety creeping in. The Psychic swallows hard, blushing profusely. He stayed a few good centimeters away from Fulgar's lips and was debating whether or not to go for it.

Uki inwardly sighs, deciding against kissing Fulgar because thatd be one hell of a ride if Fulgar suddenly woke up and found Uki... well. you know. Uki raises his head a few inches and presses his lips against Fulgar's forehead gently.

A hand seizes Uki's wrist, causing Uki to make a sort of strangled sound as he jerks back. A sleepy, but now awake, Fulgar narrows his eyes at Uki, who now looked like he was caught red-handed.

"Uki, what were you doing?"

"Uh... I..." Uki desperately tried to find the right words without sounding like a complete idiot. Cheeks bright red and slightly sweating. "How long were you awake?"

"The moment you woke up. I heard you groan."

'Well, fuck me,' Uki thought, cursing himself.

Fulgar studies Uki for a moment, then moves Uki's hand back to his face again. Uki stares, surprised, as Fulgar smirks. "Uki, you need to learn boundaries. However, since it's you..."

He sits up and leans close to Uki's face. "I don't mind what you do to me."

Hard. Hard as a fucking diamond.

"You don't?" Uki asks, without complaint going along with whatever was happening. He brings Fulgar's face close. "What if I decided to kiss you right now?"

The Cyborg's gaze slides away, cheeks burning. His gaze slides back and he tilts his head. "I'd let you."

So Uki went for it.

Uki's lips brush against Fulgar's own, hesitantly. He felt anxiety wracking his body because what if Fulgar suddenly realized, this isn't what he wanted? That he didn't want Uki?

Fulgar must've felt his distress because he takes Uki's face with his cold metal hands, deepening the kiss. He pulls the Pyschic into him, Uki having no choice but to sit himself in his lap. Not that Uki minded, not one bit.

Uki's other hand runs through Fulgar's hair, and Fulgar hums happily. He would have never thought Uki's lips were so soft, like he was kissing angel's wings. Fulgar suddenly wanted to taste him further, his left hand grasping the back of Uki's neck carefully as he nips at Uki's lower lip.

Uki immediately knows what Fulgar wants and opens his mouth and they make out passionately, Fulgar's tongue dancing with Uki's at a fiery pace. Uki can't help but moan into the open-mouthed kiss, pressing himself close to Fulgar.

They break away for a moment, panting. "Uki," Fulgar breathes, his hands finding refuge on Uki's hips as he rises. Uki wraps his legs around Fulgar's waist as he falls back onto his bed with Fulgar in tow.

"Yes?" Uki exhales, chest rising up and down quickly.

"I want you. So bad."

"You have me."

Fulgar dives towards Uki's neck, kissing down to his shoulder as Uki's breath hitches. He notices Uki's mole and gives it a hot kiss, making Uki shiver. Underneath the Psychic's jaw, he sucks on the skin, creating a hickey and several more on both sides of Uki's neck.

"Fu-chan," Uki says breathlessly, his arms around Fulgar's neck. He buries his face in Fulgar's neck and he can feel Fulgar's laugh reverberate through his chest.

"Getting all shy with me now, Ukiki?"

"Shut up bitch."

Fulgar, out of nowhere, hisses. He didn't realize one of Uki's arms left his neck, instead Uki's hand palming his hardened erection. He grunts, almost bucking his hips into Uki's hand.

"Look at you. So needy," Uki teases, a smirk on his puffy lips from kissing. Fulgar releases a growl, tugging on Uki's shirt.

"Off. Now," he orders.

Uki giggles, sitting up to remove his shirt. "Yours too."

Fulgar wasted no time in doing so, to crawl right back on Uki once more. He kisses Uki hard, then goes to give kisses on his neck, his collarbone, his chest, his stomach, all he way down...

Uki makes a noise right as Fulgar pauses above the obvious tent in his pants, grinning devilishly. "Where would you like me to kiss next, babe? here?"

Fulgar kisses his waist, watching Uki's heated expression. "Here?" He kisses Uki's inner thigh, but not quite where Uki needed it most.

Uki raises his hips, giving a soft whine. "Fu-chan..."

"Hm? What's wrong darling?" Uki's breath hitches. "Cat got your tongue? Youll have to speak up if you want me to give you want you want."

"I want you to... kiss me..."

"Mm?"

"Kiss me right..." Uki places his hand on his hard-on. "Here."

"Say pretty please."

"Please, Fu-chan. I need you..."

"Alright, alright." Fulgar hooks his finger into one of the hooks of Uki's sweatpants, dragging it down slowly. Uki raises his hips once more, and the pants slide down to his ankles. Fulgar, agonizingly slow, pulls down Uki's boxers and Uki's cock springs to attention, the tip an angry red. "Look how hard you are for me, how cute..."

Uki whimpers as Fulgar wraps a hand around Uki's pulsing dick, giving a few pumps as pre-cum beads on his tip. He seems to be admiring the work of art before him, and Uki squirms.

Fulgar takes the tip in his mouth, his tongue swirling around it and kitten licking the pre-cum. Uki lets out a soft moan, his stomach quivering in anticipation. Fulgar chuckles at the sight, licking his cock up and down all while keeping eye contact with the man he's about to go down on.

Finally, he puts the entirety of the Psychic's cock into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and tongue flat against his tip. Fulgar begins to bob his head up and down, at a slow pace at first, before quickening. His tongue traces a vein that goes down Uki's shaft and Uki moans.

"Oh fuck... babe you feel so-" A louder moan interrupts what the Psychic was going to say. "Mph- so g-good... oh shit..."

Fulgar chortles, sending electricity up Uki's spine. He could feel something coiling and tightening in his lower abdomen. Holy shit, Fulgar's mouth felt like heaven! Uki couldn't help but jolt at the pleasure he was feeling, moaning between his fingers as his other hand grips Fulgar's hair. Twisting and licking and sucking... oh god.

"'M gonna cum," Uki moans. "Doing such a- mm! Great job- a-ah...!"

Fulgar moans against Uki's cock and that just about does it. Uki lets out a noise, unloading himself into Fulgar's hot mouth. Fulgar swallows greedily, licking the shaft clean as Uki shakes, breathing hard.

"God, you're so fucking perfect," Fulgar practically growls, going back up to capture Uki's mouth in another heated kiss. Uki could taste himself on Fulgar's tongue and it groans into his mouth. "Need to feel you..."

He sits back, yanking off his pants harshly and discards of the useless thing at the moment, his cock erected. Uki almost drooled at the sight, a shuddered sigh escaping his lips as he reaches over to pull the drawer beside the bed out. Uki grabs a bottle of lube as Fulgar crawls back on top of him.

"It's almost as if you knew this was going to happen," Fulgar muses.

"I'm a Psychic. Of course I'd knew this would happen," Uki purrs and it takes all of Fulgar's strength to not just shove himself inside Uki right now.

"Sneaky whore, huh?"

"Your sneaky whore, yes."

Fulgar takes the bottle of lube and squeezes the contents into his hand. He spreads Uki's legs wide, letting the lube drip down his fingers for a moment before tracing Uki's hole with it. Uki shivers at how cold it is and Fulgar laughs deeply. He continues circling a moment before sliding two fingers inside.

Uki arches off the bed a little as Fulgar pumps his fingers in and out of him, stretching Uki out. Uki pants as he does so, sweat clinging to his skin. Fulgar watches with fascination and Uki's hole swallows his fingers again and again, prepping the Psychic for what was about to happen.

"Hmm, think that's perfect, no?" Fulgar asks, and not waiting for a response, puts his tip at Uki's entrance and enters. Completely sheathing himself in Uki's warmth.

"Fuck!" Uki cries out, his arms snaking around and digging slightly into Fulgar's back.

Fulgar groans, "Oh, you're so fucking warm. Shit. You're squeezing around me..."

Fulgar sits inside Uki for a moment, letting Uki adjust to Fulgar's rather large size. After a moment, he begins to move, in and out slowly, his hands on either side of Uki's head. Uki whimpers underneath him, reveling in the feeling of Fulgar's dick inside him for so long. He could feel Fulgar's veins and his shaft pulsating in his walls.

"Faster," Uki gasps.

"Beg. Beg me to go faster," Fulgar breathes, his eyes dark with lust.

"Please please please, faster faster faster-"

Fulgar's hips snap forward and a noise escapes Uki's mouth. His pace is quick, just like what Uki requested, but not hard enough to bruise. The idea of hurting Uki made his heart squeeze, and it went both ways as Uki dropped his hands back to the mattress. Fulgar intertwines his fingers in the man's fingers underneath him, breathing heavy as passionate moans and gasps fill the air.

"Uki," Fulgar chants underneath his breath, biting down on the Psychic's neck and leaving behind another gift for Uki.

"F-Fulgar!" Uki exclaims, small tears at the edges of his eyes. Not because of the stretch, no, he fucking loved that because of the pleasure causing his toes to curl and the heat to build up in his stomach. "M close!"

"So am- I-I, darling," Fulgar moans, kissing Uki's ear lobes as Uki sinks his teeth into Fulgar's neck. "Fuck, you're doing wonderful, my darling. C-cum for me now. You got this- taking me so fucking well."

Fulgar's praises help send Uki over the edge, cumming all over his stomach as Fulgar grunts, spilling his seed inside Uki. The hot warmth suddenly in Uki's guts cause him to whine quietly. It felt so good.

Fulgar's arms shake as he pulls out, plopping beside Uki with heavy breaths. Uki turns his head to admire the man before him, his breaths quick. His albino hair frames his face, sweat sheen across his brow. Uki reaches a hand, cupping Fulgar's cheek. Fulgar rests his hand on Uki's.

"That was perfect," Uki murmurs.

"You're perfect, Uki," Fulgar sighs, observing Uki. "You're so fucking beautiful." He glances down. "So let me clean you up, yeah?"

"And I'll help too-"

"No, no, let me spoil you." Fulgar gets up and walks to the bathroom to retrieve a towel.

Uki props himself up with an arm, smiling affectionately at Fulgar's ass as he sauntered off.

Yup, this is his man alright 💜

[jdnclaymoresbitch]

His large hips drilled into you deeply...slowly. Agonisingly slow. Your whines music to his ears;his groans to yours. You let out a loud groan as he stops the chase for the sweet relief for the 3rd time, "aw whats the matter darlin'? can't wait?" he teases "someone's got to teach you to be more patient" he smirks and pistons into you slowly once more. "tell me love, can you be patient for me?", he speeds up and grabs your cheeks between his fingers squishing your face as you squirm "yes or no doll?" the husky scottish accent asked. you shake your head whimpering, you need this, his torture had gone on long enough to leave you needy and wanting. He chuckles lightly smirking "consider this your first lesson then" Drew pulls out completely leaving you so drunk on him,you would do anything for him to be back in you....you would worship him like a god,at his feet everyday just for him to fill you back up in that moment.... He reaches behind you and ties your hands behinds your back then settles back;an arm holding his torso up his legs sprawled out "Drew" you whine,he smiles and speaks "you get to watch me,but you got to wait sweet thing" he put emphasis on 'watch', your face contorts and his smile widens "don't worry love, you'll get your turn....eventually"

@cherrytheeredheadmamaclaymore YOU ASKED FOR STEAMIER W DREW I HOPE I FULLFILLED UR REQUEST

THIS IS EXTREMELY UNPROOFREAD BUT YOLO(?!?)

slowly getting back into writing so hopefully the other request shall be done soon but here is one for now

see ya later hoes

xoxo

[streetlightyeri]

and the old men that i've swindled really did believe i was the one

hope that anon who wanted me to write for Javi is still here cause this idea came to me while I was having my weekly Everything Shower and had evermore playing (she's defrosting guys). here's a peek at one of my many wips, this time based off of cowboy like me. I really like the idea of pre-movie Javi where he kind of doesn't care that he's chasing Riggs for money and is willing to do anything to get his business off the ground, which leads him to high society New York where he meets a girl who kind of doesn't care where the money she spends comes from either. trying not to spoil everything, but I really am enjoying writing this so far! I feel like a lot of my FMCs fall into either the grumpy or sunshine archetype, so this FMC is very fun to bring to life.

please let me know how yall feel about this, I feel like this might not have a great reception since this is pre-redemption arc javi with a morally gray FMC, but im really interested in everyones opinions, good or bad.

as always with my tip posts, unproofread. <3

The rain pattered on the tent above the tennis court where Robert Tomlinson IV’s wedding reception was being held. His wife was dressed in a beautiful silk wedding gown, outdoing all the other women in the venue, as to be expected. But from the moment Javi was introduced to her, he couldn’t even remember what the bride looked like.

A business partner of Riggs grabbed him by the elbow, one too many drinks in, and brought him to a standing table towards the center of the room. “Javier, I’d be delighted for you to meet my date for tonight! I think you two would get along wonderfully.”

The way he said his name, so whitely, irked him a bit. But Javi had no room to say no; insulting this man, no matter how drunk, could put an even deeper strain on his relationship with Riggs. And Javi needed his money. While Javi gathered that most of the men in this layer of society had married up (in the sense they married way down their age), he at least expected someone who matched the man in attractiveness. There was no outward signs that this man, who Javi eventually learned was stock broker Albert Hemingway VI and a distant relative to the Belgian royal crown, was a complete and utter creep, but the jokes he laughed at at the bar and the way his eyes lingered a moment too long on his date’s bust made it clear to Javi he was just like the other men in the room who told said jokes. This man, no matter how sleezy, had money and sway and, evidently, was a man Riggs wanted pinned to his lapels.

“Javier, this is my date, Violet.” That’s how Javi found himself eye to eye with the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She wore a black silk, floor length gown that he wasn’t sure she’d be able to even sit in, paired with the reddest lipstick he’d ever seen. Her lips were wrapped around a cocktail straw, sipping lightly at the dirty martini in her hand. Her nails were a perfectly manicured nude. And she didn’t seem to care about Javi’s opinion of her at all, if anything, she was judging him. Which was fair in his eyes - he was dressed in his army dress uniform, and who in this walk of life joined the military? He was brushing shoulders with the same people who paid to dodge the Vietnam draft; these were the people whose names were on the buildings and tanks and weapons Javi interacted with every day on base. He had been mistaken as venue staff more than once, empty glasses held out to him by people who didn’t even bother to look away from their conversations.

So, he opted for a tight-lipped smile and nod of acknowledgement for the girl. Her crimson lips pulled into a small smirk. “Hello,” her voice was sultry, a note of an accent that Javi couldn’t place; he just knew that her vowels were wrong, an inkling that she was just as out of place as he was. She just played the part better.

The night proceeded on, Javi’s eyes following Violet the entire time. He had to swerve to avoid glasses and hors d’oeuvre plates being thrust at him. At one point, he accidentally took one as he fixated on the way Violet covered her mouth as she shook her shoulders and crinkled her eyes at one of Hemingway’s jokes; Javi saw the way her mouth stayed stoic behind her hand. Hemingway didn’t look at her long enough to care, instead turning his attention back to his friends. By this point, Violet had abandoned the cocktail straw and downed the rest of her glass when his hand found her waist.

The night continued. Violet was holding her liquor well; Hemingway was not. He was with other men Javi was with at the bar earlier in the night, his forehead connected to the bartop, the other men not far behind. He scanned the crowds, finding her standing outside the coverage of the tent, smoke billowing from her lips. He found himself making his way towards her, the perfectly manicured lawn of the Tomlinson’s Hamptons home squelching under his dress shoes until he made it to the small gazebo she was standing in, alone. It was clear she heard him with the noise his shoes made against the granite floor, but she didn’t turn to look at him. Under the stained glass gazebo, the rain pattered at a more comforting pitch, as though the raindrops were singing to them. A breeze tunneled through the small building. The bottom of her dress was muddied and damp.

“I think you’re in the clear, as far as sleeping with him goes.”

Violet looked at him from the side of her eyes before averting her gaze back to the front. Her voice was coated in that posh accent that he had a feeling wasn’t real. Her Gs weren’t polished and her As extended. “What if I wanted to?”

“Did you?”

She took a long drag before responding to him. “Would you?”

He let a puff of air out from his nose in a humorless laugh. “Would anyone?”

She mimicked him. “He has eight kids.”

Javi’s eyes widened and a real, shocked laugh fell from his lips. “Eight?”

“Yeah, I think he’s hopin’ I can round him out to double digits.” She laughed as well. “He and every other sad, lonely man with too much money on Wall Street.”

From the tent in the distance, a French love song began to play, the live string band increasing their volume, signaling the newlyweds were preparing to depart. A cheer went up by those who were still coherent. Javi repositioned himself, one hand behind his back. He bowed slightly to Violet. “Would you care to dance with me? Have a good moment to remember from this night?”

She tossed the cigarette onto the ground and extinguished it under the toe of her still-wet stiletto. “Dancin’ is a dangerous game, Javier.”

She departed from him, walking back to the tent, no doubt to collect the drunk Hemingway and put him in a limo back across Long Island Sound. He called after her, “It’s Javi.”

She looked back at him over her shoulder, a mischievous grin that Javi couldn’t exactly pinpoint the meaning of. “And it’s not Violet.”

She disappeared into the crowd of people as he gazed down at the extinguished cigarette drenched in red, trying to make out what was her lipstick and what was the moonlight seeping through the red, stained glass rose above him.

[minquiec]

Jade Coin Au

Spirit Jia + Antique shop worker Hobie

This is also unchecked, unproofreaded and ALSO written at one am

RAHHH I MADE THIS AU W A FRIEND @gumitoes (gmito28 ON INSTA GO FOLLOW 🦅🦅🦅) we literally just screamed abt it in one go thru dms and I'm just regurgitating it here so enjoy

---

Hobie owns this antique store that sells all kinds of old stuff that even he doesn't know where it came from. He kinda took over it after working as a part timer there when the old owner passed.

One day he finds this jade coin that looks like SUPER out of place cause it's really clean looking and almost glowing if he squinted.

So he holds it up to inspect it but when he takes it away again, he finds himself in a completely different location.

Unbeknownst to him, the jade coin is a key to the spirit realm and acts as a gateway which accidentally brought him there.

The jade coin also belongs to the spirit (Jia) who manages a certain domain of the spirit world known for entertainment especially gambling.

So he kind of stumbles around the spirit world a little disoriented and confused cause one: spirit logic and magic and shid and two: the aesthetic of this spirit world is very different to where he lives (london..?)

But at one point he finds a seemingly 'abandoned' store and enters. Unknowingly, the building belonged to a spirit, Zee (GUMI'S CHARACTER RAHH 💥💥) who helps Jia run a casino (her main establishment) discovers that the jade coin is in his possession and takes him to meet her. Although the meeting was a bit startling since she had a gun pointed to his back AHSHAHSHSJ

--> The casino acts as second chances for souls to win certain wishes ie. visit human world as ghost, more idk ghost powers and shied, etc

And ofc he's not dumb and recognises that the jade coin has some form of importance and essentially bargains with Jia to let him go back or at least teach him how to go back.

(Maybe win/bet on a game but he's just crazy lucky and manages to beat her) she's just like 😧

He manages to return back to his little shop in london but ever since visiting the spirit world he has this nagging curiosity abt the world since it's so incredibly different.

And so he would go exploring in the spirit world, occasionally taking back antiques. However he realises he'd totally get super lost in this new place and somehow coerces Jia into acting as his spirit tour guide HAHSJA

Jia isn't super strict on rules and stuff unlike other leading spirits of other domains so she kinda just goes 🤷‍♀️ and follows him around.

Because he's human it sometimes causes conflicts with more aggressive spirits but because the jade coin has a form of connection to Jia, it acts as a summoning object to summon her if he ever needs to.

Like she'll literally appear in a cloud of smoke and then cast some spirit spells or smth HAHSHA

Over time, he spends more and more time in the spirit world but it has consequences on his soul as it starts to wander from his mortal body.

And at the point where his soul finally fades to fix itself into the spirit world, Jia essentially see his mortal body disintegrate in front of her,

However he doesn't seem alarmed at all in a way where it seems like he knew it was going to happen to him. He was willing to take the risk to continue exploring the spirit world as well as by her side.

Over the next few days or so, his soul needs to be readjusted to the spirit world so his presence disappears for a while (standard soul procedure and stuff) but Jia never stopped looking for him.

Until the day she finally sees him again but souls don't recall memories of when they were alive, he forgot about her since the time he spent with her was when he was still alive.

She feels so guilty for what had happened as she spends another couple of days before finally deciding that she was willing to trade her souls for a him to be resurrected in the human world again since he didn't even die fairly.

So he is resurrected like nothing ever happened (time passes differently in spirit world cause plot hole 😍)

His memories of everything that ever happened in the spirit world and all that he is left with is a weird jade coin he doesn't remember having and a empty feeling in his chest.

The end 😁😁😁

[ao3feed-ds9]

I Would Follow You

https://ift.tt/2GyYVCE by Up_T0wn_Rat They Bicker like a married couple. They fuck like one too. Almost like--no, it couldn't be... (I'm going fucking insane) Words: 3222, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: Lower Decks (Cartoon) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Julian Bashir, Elim Garak, emergency medical hologram alternative universe Julian Bashir, starfleet surgeon alternative universe Elim Garak Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak, emergency medical hologram Julian Bashir/alternative universe Elim Garak Additional Tags: alternative universe guys!!! - Freeform, unbetaed, and completely unproofread, you guys are getting it RAW - Freeform, and so is Julian, Hologram Sex, Anal Sex, Top Elim Garak, Bottom Julian Bashir, It is implied that they switch tho, Bottoming from the Top, Married Sex, Bickering, (Obviously), arguing as foreplay, not really much more to say, im insane about them rn guys - Freeform, ohhh mein gotd, oooohhh my godd, yeag, :)

[1mnobodywhoareyou]

Can I get 500 words for the wip that’s giving you the most trouble. Please and thank you.

thank goodness i put that 1k limit up... (thank you) this is unedited. unproofread. but written. near future of kinder devil. i hope. i now have a bunch of half scenes that i need to actually put together into a chapter...

Julie runs into the studio, Flynn hot on her tail.

“Guys! GUYS!” she calls breathlessly when they don’t immediately greet her.

“Hey Jules! Where’s the fire?” Reggie asks, looking up from where he’d been plucking on his bass. 

She desperately waves at them, wordlessly encouraging them to gather by her. 

It doesn’t take long for the trio to take the hint. Luke stands in front of her, stooping down to look her in the eyes, mild concern taking over his face. “What’s going on, boss?”

Julie takes a deep breath to recenter herself before explaining. “You remember that lady at Eats and Beats? Who wanted to talk to us before I got caught?”

The guys nod. 

“Okay, well. She just called.”

“What?!” Luke exclaims before unleashing a litany of excited questions Julie’s way. 

“Luke,” Alex says gently, putting his hand on Luke’s shoulder. 

Julie watches in amusement as Luke continues his spiral, completely unaware of Alex’s presence.

“Luke!” Alex tries again, much louder this time and with a shake of Luke’s shoulders. 

Luke slowly comes back down from his excited rambling and stares at Julie. “What did she want?” he asks, much more coolly than he’d been capable of for the last several minutes.

Julie laughs. “She wanted to talk about representing us. She obviously loved our ‘gimmick’ but also our sound. She’d been hoping to get in touch with us after the Eats and Beats fiasco but, well, it’s not as easy as looking someone up in the phonebook any more.”

“Well, she could have messaged any of the band pages,” Flynn counters. “Social media exists for a reason.”

Julie directs a soft glare her friend’s way. “Yeah, well. That’s obviously not how Andi does things,” she turns her attention back to the guys who are watching her expectantly, “anyway. She came across some stuff about our performance at the Orpheum and then our Youtube channel, did some digging, found the landline info that thank goodness Dad keeps installed for some reason…” She trails off, waving her hand around, “None of that matters. Destiny Management wants us. Andi wants us. But we need an adult because we’re… I’m still a teenager. So I need to talk to Papi.”

“Well what are you waiting for?! Let’s go talk to Ray!” Luke cries, grabbing Julie’s hand and pulling her toward the door.

“Luke!” Julie cries, pulling her hand out of his grasp.

He stops short and turns to look at her, a betrayed expression on his face.

“He doesn’t know about you, remember? How can I ask him to let us do this if he doesn’t have all the information?”

“Can’t we just… pretend that it’s just you?” Reggie asks. 

Julei stares at him. 

“A band of four people, three of whom presumably exist somewhere else in the world, need all four members to be involved in any dealings, Reg.” Alex explains. 

“Right. I knew that.”

“How do we navigate this kind of thing if three of us barely even count as people?” Alex wonders.

Julie shrugs, “I guess that’s what we have to figure out.”

Flynn pokes at Julie’s shoulder, silently asking for Julie to fill her in on the conversation that she’d been left out of. Julie obliges, ending by posing the same question Flynn’s way. 

“Well, how attached are you to doing things the ‘traditional’ way?” Flynn asks. 

Just as Luke’s about to answer, Flynn puts her hand up. “Arrange yourselves so I can hear you please. We’re not playing telephone for this.”