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whoopsieintheuniverse · 3 years

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Hellooo! This is my first time asking for a request here! And I've only recently found this acc and I've enjoyed reading your fics ever since. As for the request, can I ask an angst scenario about vegeta x reader where vegeta treats the reader like trash because he doesn't know how to express his affections properly and they're both lovers (bulma's with yamcha btw if thats okay). Until one day, the reader just couldn't handle his actions and is tired of being treated like shit so she snaps at him and ignores him all day. Its up to you how it ends but it'll be great to have it fluffy.

So this turned out really long! I hope this is what you were looking for! My inbox is open for requests everyone :-)

Y/N sat, grinning, as Bulma, Yamcha, and Krillin tittered about Bulma’s most recent science venture.

“Look, all I’m saying is that I need a new test subject! You’ve been through worse, right? It’s also a paid position,” Bulma said.

“No way!” Krillin said. “Why don’t you use Yamcha? Your boyfriend, your guinea pig!”

“Krillin, it’s a hair growth serum,” Yamcha said. “You’re kinda the only one who fits the bill, pal.”

“Oh haha. You know I can grow hair, I just shave it all off.”

Y/N laughed along with Bulma as Yamcha and Krillin started to squabble. Bulma nudged Y/N’s hand, and she looked over at the bluenette.

“You know, you’ve been over here a lot, lately,” Bulma said.

“It’s nothing,” Y/N assured. “Just want to spend some time with some old friends.”

“You sure? You know, last time you were always visiting because of-”

Y/N raised her hand and shook her head.

“Yeah, I know. He’s still an ass, and I’m not gonna lie, it is nice to get away from him somet-”

A sudden impact shook the ground and the group. Krillin and Yamcha were the first to stand, with Y/N gripping the table and Bulma falling to the ground. Y/N scoffed, looking out into the flying dust. She spotted the hazy outline of a blue aura, and Y/N groaned as she helped Bulma up.

“Speak of the devil,” Y/N muttered.

“Earth woman!”

Y/N sighed as Vegeta’s figure quickly crossed the field. She crossed her arms and glared at him.

“Well, well. Done knocking yourself around for the day? Come to say hello, Vegeta?”

Vegeta scowled.

“Shut up! And who do you think you are, wandering off and not telling me?”

“Knock it off man, she’s just hanging with us,” Yamcha said. “Nothing’s gonna happen to her while we’re around.”

Vegeta ignored Yamcha and marched to Y/N.

“You should know better than to leave the house without telling me first, Y/N. I can’t train and make sure you don’t get yourself killed,” Vegeta barked. Y/N rolled her eyes and sat down. She grabbed her drink and looked Vegeta in the eye as she took a sip.

“Look. I’m fine. You don’t have to start an argument every time you see me, you know. How about you sit down with us? That way you know where I am and you can relax,” Y/N said. Vegeta scoffed before turning his back.

“As if I’d waste my time here. You want to stay with your pathetic little friends, fine. Go ahead. See if I give a damn,” Vegeta called over his shoulder. Y/N watched as Vegeta marched to the mound of dust and dirt he landed on, and she rolled her eyes again as he took off.

“He seems to be in a good mood,” Bulma said, dusting herself off. Y/N nodded before sighing and leaning back in her seat.

“He’s been a real ass lately. I don’t know what’s gotten into him,” Y/N said. Bulma patted Y/N on the back. Yamcha shook his head, and Yamcha scoffed.

“He’s not exactly Mr. Congeniality, Y/N,” Yamcha said. Bulma pulled Yamcha by the ear.

“And you’re the boyfriend of the year, huh?” Bulma asked. Krillin and Y/N laughed. Y/N then cleared her throat and rose to her feet.

“Well, it’s been fun, but I should probably get going. Vegeta doesn’t need any more reason to start yelling,” Y/N said.

Krillin stood to hug Y/N.

“Don’t let him push you around,” he whispered in her ear.

Y/N nodded and waved at Bulma and Yamcha before excusing herself to fly off to her house.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

The sun started to set by the time Vegeta arrived home. He walked in, expecting dinner. What he found instead was Y/N washing dishes and setting them out to dry.

“Woman.”

“I have a name,” Y/N said.

Vegeta ground his teeth and continued.

“I take it you haven’t cooked today.”

Y/N didn’t look up; she moved to the cabinet and grabbed a glass to pour herself a drink.

“I did cook. And then I cleaned the pots for you. Here you go,” Y/N said. She gestured to the pots and utensils on the counter, then passed Vegeta to go sit in the living room. Vegeta followed her, stomping as he went.

“And do you really think I’m going to do my own cooking?” Vegeta said.

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him.

“You will if you want to eat. You know, maybe if you weren’t such an ass today, I would have made enough for you to eat, too.”

Vegeta crossed his arms and glared at Y/N.

“I’m an ass? How about you, gallivanting around without a care in the world?” Vegeta said.

“I was just with my friends, Vegeta,” Y/N said, rolling her eyes. “You know, I don’t want to argue with you. I’m going to bed,” Y/N said. Vegeta followed her to their bedroom, and he leaned against the door frame and watched as she tucked herself into bed.

“So that's it then? You're just going to ignore me for the rest of the night? Vegeta asked. Y/N said nothing, running her hands over her face.

“What happened, Vegeta? Why are you acting like this? You know, first I thought the whole “loose cannon, lone wolf” thing was kinda cute, but now, you’re just plain mean. What is it? Do you not like me anymore? Am I just another “worthless human” to you now?”

“Shut up! You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Vegeta thundered. Y/N nodded, eyes drooping wearily.

“Yeah,” she said. “I guess I don’t know what I’m talking about. You know, I thought people were wrong about you. You were sweet for a while, at least to me. Guess that’s all down the drain, huh?”

Vegeta opened his mouth, then closed it. He grabbed Y/N’s doorknob and turned on his heel, slamming it shut behind him. Y/N sat in the silence for a while, before sighing and laying down.

The sun shone in Y/N’s eyes, rousing her from her sleep. She yawned and stretched, and then listened. The house was eerily quiet.

“Weird. Vegeta doesn’t go off and train this early,” Y/N said to herself. She walked into her living room, and found Vegeta sitting there, flicking through channels.

“Good morning,” Vegeta said.

Y/N stayed quiet. Vegeta continued flicking through channels, only stopping when Y/N came to sit next to him. His eyes slid to the side, examining her, before going back to the television.

“I’m not training this morning. I think I need to take the day off,” Vegeta said.

Silence fell over the room, with Y/N kicking her feet against the couch.

Vegeta shook his head.

“Look, about last ni-” Vegeta began. When Y/N said nothing, Vegeta scowled to himself and huffed.

“Forget it,” Vegeta said. He started flicking through channels again, and Y/N crossed her arms. Finally, she spoke.

“Vegeta. Please?”

Vegeta exhaled sharply through his nose, set the remote on the couch next to him, and turned to Y/N.

“Well? Done ignoring me now?” he asked.

“I want to talk to you. I’m tired of yelling at each other. I just…don’t know what to say. What’s going on with you?” Y/N asked.

“There’s not a damn thing wrong with me. You’re the one creating all the problems. All I want is to keep you safe, and you call me silly. I want to know where you are, is that so bad?” Vegeta questioned.

Y/N fell silent, squinting her eyes. She placed a finger over her lips and sat before she spoke.

“Vegeta, you want to keep me safe. I can get that. But you don’t have to be…you don’t have to…” She sighed, rubbing her eyes before continuing. “Vegeta, I understand that you want to keep me safe, but I do have friends. I’m safe with them.”

“And what if you aren’t? If you’re out and I don’t know or I can’t reach you in time, and something happens to you, what am I supposed to do? Have you even thought of that?” Vegeta said, crossing his arms.

Y/N tilted her head and leaned on Vegeta’s shoulder.

“Vegeta. All I’m asking is that you loosen up a little. You can come with me. I’ll try to communicate with you more, but I also can’t be cooped up here forever,” Y/N said.

Vegeta grumbled but said nothing. A light pink dusted his cheeks, and Y/N smiled and leaned in to kiss them.

“I love you, you know,” Y/N said. A dark rose took over Vegeta’s face and neck, and he sighed as he faced Y/N.

“Yeah. I know.”

Enjoy my work? Consider supporting me on kofi: https://ko-fi.com/whoopsieintheuniverse

#request #vegeta #dbz vegeta #vegeta x reader #dbz x reader #dragon ball z x reader #vegeta dragon ball z #dragon ball super #vegeta x yn #dbz x yn #x reader #reader insert

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meltwonu · 3 years

Text

| 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔦 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 | [CHAPTER 3]

pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x reader

this chapter’s notes; fratboy!wonwoo, possessive!dom!wonwoo, daddy!kink, sex toys, dirty talk, squirting, fingering, oral(fem receiving), sexy aftercare! YALL WHAT A WEEK EH? 🥴 I’m exhausted and about to sleep thru the entire weekend(in actuality☠️) fkjhsdh Will try to answer inbox msgs if I’m not too tired(if I am, def sunday!)💕💕💕 and maybe thirst posts in between sleep if I can! 😗 Exciting!! I’m trying to be a bit more active, at least on the weekends lol baby steps!!😭💕 Anyway, I hope y’all have a lovely weekend~ Enjoy ch 3! I love u!! 💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - x - x

“Is this… It?”

Wonwoo laughs; the smell of alcohol on his lips when he leans towards you. “No, I just thought we’d have a little fun before I gave you your real present later, is all.”

The party had ‘started’ at least an hour ago and Wonwoo, despite his dislike of parties, was already three drinks in by the time you were knocking on the front door of the loud frat house. He’d dragged you to the kitchen to make you a drink while you chatted with others for a bit before he was tugging you up the stairs and into his room.

“Unless you don’t wanna play, ‘cause that’s okay too.”

He twirls the vibrating panties around his index finger - head tilted slightly in your direction. You roll your eyes in return, reaching for the fabric as you lean in closer to his warmth. “Me? Not wanting to play? Do you even know me?” You quip back, already taking the fabric from between his fingertips as you reach under your skirt to start removing your panties to replace them with the ones Wonwoo had given you.

Biting his lip, he watches as you slowly slide your panties down your legs. “I’m trying to get to know you.” He mumbles - more to himself than to you but the slight giggle he hears from you lets him know that you heard him perfectly clear.

“I know. Although, let’s be real, we haven’t done much talking, huh?”

Wonwoo’s lips purse into an embarrassed smile; cheeks a pale pink when you finish changing and toss him your old panties.

“We can go on a date? Tomorrow? Sunday?” He offers - taking the fabric and putting it in his pants pocket for keeps.

Nodding, you reach for his hand, squeezing it before linking your fingers with his.

“Let’s figure it out when you’re not already 3 drinks in, hmm?”

You catch up and surpass Wonwoo’s level of drunkenness in no time; taking shots with Soonyoung before Wonwoo can finally catch you.

“H-hey!” The room spins as Wonwoo grabs your arm and you find yourself in the familiar empty kitchen as your eyes try to adjust to the brightness. “I was, hic, gonna drink another s-shot!”

“I know, but you need water and I’ve been trying to get you to drink some for the last 25 minutes.”

“Daddy, why’re you so meaaaaan…”

Wonwoo pauses, fingers frozen on the bottle cap before he turns to you. He hands you the bottle silently before reaching for his phone - eyes on you as you start to down the contents.

It only takes a few seconds before the vibrations start and you’re taken by surprise as you sputter and spill water all over the countertop and floor.

“Good girls know when to behave. And you’re not doing so well right now, sweetheart.”

Your thighs clamp together, fingertips almost crushing the plastic bottle as the vibrations send thrums of arousal pouring over your body in an instant. “Ah, I--hic, wh--what, but--but I…” The alcohol makes your body much more sensitive and your head feels hazy and overwhelmed with the toy pressed firmly against your clit. “Buh--but I just wanted to d-drink…”

“And I wanted you to drink some water and you ran to take shots, princess.”

Pouting, you shakily place the half empty bottle down onto the counter before you walk up to Wonwoo. You wrap your arms around his waist, quiet moans rolling off your lips as you stare up at his intoxicated expression. “Well, I was trying to until you decided to make me spill it...”

Wonwoo’s soft laughter reverberates in your chest and he’s quick to turn off the toy as you slump against him.

“Can we go back up to your room now, daddy?” Your voice is slightly slurred and muffled against his shirt; eyes fluttering shut as you inhale his addicting scent.

“Now where’d all the fun be in that, princess?”

Throughout the night, Wonwoo sporadically turns the toy on - making you jolt and latch onto the nearest person or object as your legs threaten to give out when he doesn’t always start off with the lowest setting.

“Whoa, you okay?” Mingyu asks, brows furrowed when your vice-like grip on his arm only tightens as Wonwoo sets the vibration speed higher. “You look like you’re gonna be sick. You might wanna slow down on those drinks.” Minghao nods in agreement, stepping closer to you to place a hand against your warm forehead.

“She’s kinda warm too. Must be all the alcohol.”

The pair nod to each other, convincing themselves it was all the drinks as Wonwoo shoots you a cocky smirk. You shift your weight to your left leg, making the toy sit perfectly against your clit in the process. The wetness in your panties was already unbearable and it was only getting worse.

“Fu--fuck… I’m okay, just---um, I think I need to go to the restroom.” You excuse yourself just as Wonwoo turns the toy off again and you pry your sweaty palm off of Mingyu’s arm before making a beeline for the restroom down the hall. Naturally, there’s a small line to get in and despite the fact you don’t really need to go, you figure splashing some water on your face would help you a little.

“My, my, who do we have here?”

It’s a voice you don’t recognize and when you lift your head to face the person in front of you, it’s a male you don’t know either. “Um… Can I… Help you?” You ask meekly. He’s very obviously inebriated, eyes unfocused as he gives you a once over before licking his lips.

“D’you wanna go in together? You can help me in there if you’d like.”

You can only grimace - fully ready to give him a piece of your mind when an arm slings around your shoulder and you feel yourself being tucked protectively into Wonwoo’s side.

“Sorry, but she’s going to be helping me right now, won’t you, princess?”

The tenseness in Wonwoo’s jaw is ever present even when he’s situated between your trembling thighs - the tip of his tongue running through your soaked folds before he slightly pulls away.

“Wanted to play with you downstairs a little longer but, ah, well… Isn’t this more fun, princess?”

“A-ah, will they b-be mad you’re, mmh, ditching your own p-party though…?” Wonwoo grins, eyes peering up at your slightly unfocused stare and your swollen lips.

“I don’t even think they noticed I was gone, sweetheart.”

Wonwoo leans in, dragging his tongue from your clit to your entrance as slowly as possible as you whine and start to ease your fingertips into his hair. “Oh, d-daddy…” You tug slightly, pulling him closer towards you as you start to grind against his waiting tongue.

“Oh, god, it feels s-so good… Been w-waiting for you to, ah, t-touch me all night…” He moves slow, circling your clit with his tongue before sucking the nub into his mouth. Garbled noises spill from your lips - mixing in with soft pleas for him to do more.

But despite Wonwoo’s original annoyance of someone else trying to hit on you, that being the reason he even decided to leave the party, he finds it all melting away the second you start moaning his name in pleasure.

He dips his tongue into your entrance, collecting the wetness on it as he moans against your skin at how sweet you taste. It sends shivers up your spine - toes curling and hips bucking up towards his mouth as you chase the feeling. “Wonwoo… D-daddy, more… Ah, please, w-wanna feel your f-fingers too…”

“Fucked your pretty ‘lil cunt so good yesterday and you’re still so needy, huh, princess?” He reaches his hand in between your legs, popping his fingers into his wet mouth before running them through your folds.

“So greedy. Always want your cunt stuffed full of me, hmm? Whether it’s my cock or my fingers. Even just having my tongue on you is enough to get you to cum.” Once he deems his fingers wet enough, he positions his index and middle finger at your entrance before he starts to slowly sink them both inside of you. “Pretty ‘lil cunt is always ready to take my cock, isn’t it?”

You’re so wet that his fingers slide in easily; already curling into your g-spot as you cry loudly into the air. “O-oh, fuck! Daddy, please…!” Letting go of Wonwoo’s hair, you opt to tangle your fingers into his bed sheets - simultaneously spreading your quivering legs further apart when he starts to thrust his fingers into you at a moderate pace.

“Please? Please what, sweetheart? Use your words.”

Wonwoo scissors his fingers, stretching your pussy open as you throw your head back against his pillows. “Ngh, want y-you to fuck me, ah, d-daddy… Wanna feel your cock i-inside…” He smiles, leaning back in to pepper kisses on your inner thighs before you feel his tongue on your clit again.

He flicks the nub with the tip of his tongue at the same time he curls his fingers into your g-spot, sending your overly sensitive body hurtling towards an orgasm as you whine and mewl above him.

“D-daddy… I c-can’t, I--ah!”

Your walls clamp down hard onto his fingers; entire body trembling as you cum on his fingers and his tongue. And he works you through it - curling and wiggling his fingers inside your pussy to milk your orgasm.

“Mm, now you’re even more wet, princess~ Ready to take my cock?” Your head is buzzing, fingertips loosening their grip on the bed sheets when he slowly starts to pull his fingers from inside of you. “Mmhmm… Ah, hurry d-daddy… fuh--feels so e-empty…”

Wonwoo slowly sits up from between your legs; popping the wet digits into his mouth to lick off your wetness.

“So insatiable.”

You realize when Wonwoo positions his cock at your entrance that this is truly the first time you get to see his naked body since he’d come back.

“Daddy, I--”

The words get caught in your throat as he swiftly bottoms out in a singular thrust; his abs tightening and showing off his toned muscles as you feel yourself start to drool over his physique.

You tell yourself to ask him for pictures later, if you can remember.

The oversensitivity in your body makes you whimper and you’re quick to wrap your legs around his waist when he starts a moderately quick pace.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty, sweetheart.” Admittedly, Wonwoo knows he won’t be able to hold out for very long himself - already too aroused to stave off his orgasm for much longer with your slick walls sucking his cock in deeper. “And you’re all mine, right?”

You nod back frantically, bleary eyes peering up at Wonwoo’s own blown out pupils. “Ngh, y-yes, fuck! I’m, hah, y-yours… God, I don’t wan’t a-anyone, ah, else, daddy…”

Your words go straight to his cock as he growls, “That’s right. Only daddy gives you what you want, right, princess? Only my cock satisfies you the way you want - filling you up to the brim and keeping you full, just how you like it.”

“Mmh, oh g-god, Wonwoo…” Whines pour from your mouth as you dig your heels into his lower back to press him closer into you.

His cock grazes against your cervix as you mewl; back arching off the bed with how deep he was fucking you.

He uses a free hand to reach down to your clit, rubbing the swollen, sensitive nub between his fingertips as you immediately latch a shaky hand onto his forearm. “P-please, oh, mmh!”

Wonwoo smirks, watching as your eyes cross from the immense pleasure pouring over your body. “C’mon, princess. Wanna feel you cumming on my cock again before I fill this filthy ‘lil cunt of yours with cum.”

You’re reduced to rushed, broken cries of his name as the pressure builds inside your body quickly; only a loud gasp falling from your lips as the tension snaps for a second time, only this time, much stronger than the first.

“Fuck, that’s right, cum for me, baby.”

He works you through your orgasm, fucking you harder as you squirt all over his lower half and the bed sheets.

Drool dribbles down your chin, thighs shaking uncontrollably when Wonwoo pulls all the way out to tap the head of his cock against your sensitive clit - making your body jolt with each slap before he’s quickly sheathing his throbbing cock back inside your tight cunt.

“God, you’re so tight and wet, princess. Bet you feel so fuckin’ good, huh?” Wonwoo licks his lips, “Gonna cum inside your pretty ‘lil cunt now, okay?”

You nod, lips parted in quiet moans when you feel his thick cock throbbing between your walls. “H-hurry, give it to me, d-daddy… Wanna feel y-you, ah, cumming inside my p-pussy…”

He only groans in return, letting the pleasure wash over him as his orgasm starts to crest.

This time, you work him through it - clenching around his cock as he continues to thrust into you. “Mmh... suh--so good...” You slur out; head fuzzy as you bathe in the post orgasmic haze.

And Wonwoo fares no better - fingertips digging into your skin as he rides out his high.

“Oh... fuck.”

When you come to, it doesn’t even fully process to you what’d happened.

“Sweetheart? Princess? Baby?”

Wonwoo’s voice sounds muffled as you try to sit up, but he’s quick to slow you down as he sighs. “Ah, not--not so fast. You just passed out, I was... really scared for a second there, sweetheart.” He leans in close, checking your eyes before gently stroking your cheek. “Are you okay? Feeling faint? Does your head hurt? Or any part of you, really.”

“I--I don’t even remember that happening... Just, you were cumming and then everything went... dark.” You shake the tension from your body - already noting that you were re-dressed in your panties and one of Wonwoo’s big shirts. “I... Well, I’m not drunk anymore?”

He shakes his head as you laugh airily; trying to ease his nerves. “Baby, are you sure you’re okay?” The ‘baby’ makes your heart jump as you mumble a shy ‘mmhmm’ back.

“Okay, now you really need to drink some water. I got you cleaned up while you were out and put you in some warm clothes. I’ll grab you something to eat from downstairs in a bit, I’m sure there’s boxes of pizza still down there.” Wonwoo grabs a water bottle from the nightstand, handing it to you as he sits by your side. “I haven’t even given you your actual gift and you already passed out once for the night.”

Gently slapping his arm, you down half the water bottle before you pass it back to him.

“Can I still have it or will it also make me pass out again?”

This time, the two of you share a laugh as he gets up from the bed and walks over to his dresser to fetch a small box. “I mean, I guess it depends on how you see it?”

He passes you the small box - slightly nervous when you start to inspect it.

“You’re not trying to pull a Van Gogh moment with a cut off piece of ear or something are you?” Wonwoo laughs; loud and exaggerated.

“Sadly not. But open it, I think you’ll like it.”

You start opening the small box, pulling away the layers of printed tissue paper to reveal a set of two keys. “Keys?”

“Mmhmm.”

“To... The library?”

Wonwoo snorts, doubling over in laughter as he slaps his leg. “N-no... A key for the frat house and a key... for my bedroom. So you can have access here whenever you want. Or need, really.”

You’re taken by surprise as you dangle the keys in front of your face; cheeks warming up at the fact Wonwoo essentially gave you keys to his private space. “I--Wow, I--Wonwoo... This, wow... I don’t know what to say.”

“Good or bad?”

“G-good! Really really good but just... are you sure?”

He nods back - shy eyes avoiding the way you stare at him.

“I--I want to trust you more and I want you to trust me too. You don’t have to give me keys to your place or anything at all. I just want you to know that you have a place here if you want to study or just chill. I don’t have a big work load this semester so I’m in here a lot anyway. And let’s be real, we can’t alway mess around in the library, right?”

He chuckles gently under his breath, “But we can play all we want in here.”

You nod, mentally contemplating whether or not to do the same.

I’ll think about it later, you tell yourself.

“What if wanna just sleep here with you, hmm? Nothin’ sexy.” You ask, twirling the keys around your finger.

“You can do that. I’d like that actually. Why don’t we do that tonight, huh, baby? Stay the night and then we can go out for breakfast in the morning.”

Biting your lip, you place the keys back into the box before setting it on the nightstand. “I’d like that too.”

Wonwoo gets up from the bed, dusting off his sweats before readjusting his glasses.

“For now, I think you need to eat some cold pizza from downstairs. I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay~”

#fratboy!wonwoo #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt imagines #svt scenarios #wonwoo #wonwoo fic #uimy_meltwonu #jeon wonwoo #svt fic

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kakiwrites · 3 years

Text

lover boy

Genre: fluff

A Kenma kozume x reader

a/n: hey guys! @booksandhoneymilktea I kinda mixed your request with a brainrot I've been experiencing with this specific queen song! Hope you enjoy this! Let's get started.

Your relationship with kenma was… complicated, to say the least.

You transferred in to his second-year class in the middle of the year. You expected that people already had their cliques so you just took out your DS and started playing some good old pokemon to pass the time in between classes.

After a few days of being alone in your own little bubble, a boy with blonde hair with black roots approached you, in his hand was his blue PSP. "can I sit next to you?" he asked, his voice soft and quiet. You nodded and you watched as he dragged a nearby chair to sit beside you and played his game, glancing over your shoulder to see what you were up to from time to time.

This was the start of your relationship.

Kenma invited you to his volleyball practices everyday and told you that you can sit in the corner and watch his console for him while he trained. He would always join you in that corner so you could game in silence. He would glare at the tall, half-Russian boy, Lev, when he got too noisy and broke your train of thought.

Soon, his childhood friend, Kuroo, caught Kenma's interest in you. Every time the captain sees you with his pudding head friend, you would hear him humming and dancing to himself. "Ooh~ love, ooh~ loverboy." Kuroo sang out loud for the tenth time that week, nudging kenma and working him up. Kenma only rolled his eyes before taking your hand and pulling you out of his vicinity.

That only proved Kuroo's suspicions.

You really didn't mind. Kuroo and kenma were just joking around. They weren't serious, Right?

Right?

The very same day, kenma invited you to a sleepover at his place. You didn't really have anything else planned so you said yes. You've been there a lot of times already so you didn't feel any different when Kenma's mom opened the door for you, hugged you then told you that you head up to his room.

You knocked then opened the door to see Kenma on his pc with his video cam on, skyping with Kuroo and Lev. "hey kenma." you whispered, dropping your bag on his bed then approaching his set up to wave at the camera.

You both watched as Kuroo scrambled on his screen and played something that made Kenma groan and take off his headphones. "what is it?" you asked as you strained your ears from where you stood to hear the same song he kept dubbing as your 'theme song', playing on blast.

Ooh, love, ooh, loverboy

What're you doin' tonight, hey, boy?

Set my alarm, turn on my charm

That's because I'm a good old-fashioned loverboy

You giggled at kenma's pout before you jumped onto his bed and got comfortable, taking out your own console and continued with your game.

After all, Just being in his presence was enough for you.

You both sat in silence for a few hours. the only sounds interrupting the ambiance were Kenma's incoherent grumbling into his mic and the soundtrack of the current pokemon town you were in.

"for the last time, Kuroo, I am not confessing to her." Kenma slightly raised his voice, you perked up. Does he like someone? Who could it be? You told him that you would support him through anything.

So you didn't get why your heartfelt heavy when kenma revealed that he liked someone.

After a few minutes, kenma said a slurred and sleepy farewell before he left the call and turned his setup off. He looked back to see you still playing your game. His eyes then moved to glance at the clock. 1 am it read. The boy plopped down beside you, watching your screen sleepily.

"so…" you blurted out after a few minutes. Kenma hummed in acknowledgment, telling you that he was listening even though he was already half-asleep. "who was the lucky girl Kuroo was bugging you to confess to?" you asked, trying to make it sound casual as if you weren't feeling your heart clench at the thought of him falling for someone else then drifting away from you.

Kenma just sighed before he shifted. "you. He was bugging me to tell you what I feel. I'm not ready yet." he thought aloud before his eyes closed completely and his breathing evened out.

What did he just say?

You felt your face heat up, burying your head into your console. He was just sleepy. no way in hell he liked you, you thought. You turned your game off and laid down next to him.

The last thing you saw was his neutral face turning up into a smile, you felt warmth envelop your figure, drifting you off to sleep.

Kenma woke up, the pillow he rested on felt softer than usual. He took a deep breath, your scent wafting around him. His eyes confusedly fluttered opened to see you. His head on your chest as you played your game, your hand running through his hair. You were singing a familiar song under your breath. It made him smile and his cheeks glow a dark red.

"Ooh, love, ooh, loverboy

What're you doin' tonight, hey, boy?

Write my letter

Feel much better

And use my fancy patter on the telephone"

He sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to hide the big grin on his face. That didn't go unnoticed with you. You were about to play it off when you realized what you've been doing ever since you woke up. You blushed darkly, "i-I'm sorry! I was stunned with what you said last night and then you cuddled into me and-" you rambled but kenma cut you off by placing his finger on your lips.

What the hell did he say before he went to bed last night?

All he remembered was watching you play then he heard your inquisitive tone that drifted him off to sleep. He dug deeper into his mind when he finally remembered.

"who was the lucky girl Kuroo was bugging you to confess to?"

"you. He was bugging me to tell you what I feel. I'm not ready yet."

Fuck.

He knew that his face looked like a tomato. He buried his face into his hands. He confessed to you in one of the worst possible times. You scrambled to sit next to him. Patting his back sympathetically. "it's fine, kenma. I know you didn't mean it. You were half asleep and-" you tried to say only to get cut off when he grabbed onto you by the arms and pulled you to look straight into his golden eyes.

"I wasn't delusional. I know what I said." he said, unable to keep it in any longer. "it was all true. I wanted to confess to you. I just wasn't ready because I didn't know if you even liked me back at all so pushed that thought away. Then I ratted myself out. I didn't want to confess and overwhelm you like that and I'm-" he continued to confess but you stopped him by pressing your lips onto his. When you felt him stiffen up, you got terrified that he didn’t like it so you were about to pull away when he kissed you back, keeping his lips there until you both needed air.

"i-I don't-"

"I like you a lot, kenma. I have for a long time and your words made me realize that. Thank you." you smiled at him, pulling him into a kiss one more time.

"I guess that means I'm your lover boy now?"

"That was so cheesy, kenken~"

Kenma has never felt more embarrassed.

And there we go! Hope you guys enjoyed this one, especially so you, @booksandhoneymilktea! Requests are open so please don't be shy to leave anything in my inbox! Love you guys 💖💕❤️

General taglist (don’t be shy to comment your tumblr @ below): @tokyoghoose @macaronnv @reogou @midnightangelfox @wumboho @seiijixcia

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #haikyu #kenma #kenma kozume #kenma kozume x reader #kenma x reader #kaki writes

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write-orflight · 3 years

Text

Settle Down: Chapter 3

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev - Next

Pairings: SpencerXReader (kinda enemies to lovers)

Rating: M

Words: 2K

Warnings: None, suggestive language

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Y/N and Spencer don’t get along but turn to each other for the one thing you need someone else for… A baby. You can plantonically start a family, right?

AN: Unedited and ending might change as I wrote this half asleep. Comment on this chapter or inbox to be on taglist. thanks! much love, Cia.

Chapter 3: You’re really going to waste a Good Witch on this?

You still felt pretty normal. You knew not to expect or feel anything at least for another couple of weeks but that didn’t make you any less nervous about it. So now you were playing the waiting game. You and Spencer were doing good. For some reason it wasn’t awkward that morning after the sex at all. The two of you just woke up and got coffee before heading into work like nothing happened. It was fine until Spencer had suggested that night maybe having sex again would increase your chances of getting pregnant since you were also ovulating the second day. You agreed of course but you couldn’t figure out if it had been for the reasons you were supposed to. The sex had been great, as good if not better than the first time yet you still felt slimy, like you were tricking Spencer even though he suggested it and was probably right. Spencer gave no indication that it bothered him though so you figured you were in the clear.

You almost had been caught by Penelope when you went to work the following day. The second time around, let's just say Spencer was a lot less shy, a lot more ambitious and left a giant bruise on the side of your neck where he had been kissing practically the whole night. You couldn’t be that mad about it when you left your fair share of bruises on him.

“Whoa!” Penny said when you walked into the small work space the two of you shared. You knew what she was talking about instantly. You desperately tried to cover it up and he apologized profusely for it. You told him it was no big deal. It wasn't like you were making big moves to stop him at the time. “Someone had a fun night. Come on, spill!” She says, turning to face you.

“I burned myself on a curling iron. Not nearly as fun a night as you think.” You lie, shrugging the whole inquisition off so you wouldn’t suspect you lying to her. It seems to work because she groans.

“Ugh, nothing interesting ever happens here!” She groans. “What about you and Spencer?”

You look nervous for a second. “What about me and Spencer?”

“I mean, anything new in babyville?” She gestures.

“Oh! Nothing yet. We’re just playing the waiting game right now.”

“That was fast. So you might be pregnant right now?” You shrug. “I can’t believe you and Spencer are having a kid.”

“Yea, it’s kinda strange but we’ll manage.” You say as the phone rings. The team was out on a case, it wasn’t uncommon for them to call you guys for technological aid.

“All seeing, all knowing.” You greet them on the phone. You adapted Garcia’s jovial speech the more you worked with her.

“Hey, Y/N…” You hear Spencer’s voice say back to you.

“Oh, hey Spencer. I’ll patch you to Penny.” You say, hand on the button to do that. You’ve grown accustomed to transferring him to Penelope over the years since he preferred to talk to her.

“No! No, I’m actually calling for you…” He says.

“You never call for me.” You say. “You always ask for Garcia.”

“I know, I know. I just— how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, Spencer.” You say. “It’s only been a couple days.”

“I know, I know. I just wanted to see how you were doing.” Spencer says nervously into the phone.

“I’ll tell you if anything changes, but right now I’m fine, ok?”

“Ok.” He says back.

“Now did you have a question pertaining to my actual job?”

“Could you run financial records for Wilard Yannis for me?”

—————————————

It was a week later and the team was officially back from the case. It was a paperwork day which you and Garcia always used to review potential cases. You were doing just that when a knock came to your door. Spencer walked in brandishing two coffees and a pastry bag which he places in front of Garcia.

“What’s this?” Garcia asks, excitedly opening the pastry bag. “It’s a crossiant and it’s still warm. Oh, you love me and I love you.” She says, patting his cheek. You don’t turn from your screen but you smile at Penelope’s antics. You don’t look up until you see a cup being placed in front of you.

“What is this?” You ask.

“Coffee.” He says like it’s obvious.

“Why?”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” He rolls his eyes before walking out. You sip the coffee tentatively.

Ok, how the fuck does he know your coffee order?

You wait until he’s heading to the file room later to corner him. You follow in behind him and lock the door.

“Ok, you need to knock it off.” You say, crossing your arms.

“Knock what off, Y/N?” He asks.

“You know what!” You exclaim. “Do I need to remind you what your job is? What our coworkers jobs are? We work with Profilers for God's sake! Now, I was able to avoid suspicion even though you left a Texas size bruise on my neck. But you’ve got to knock it off and stop acting weird around me.”

“How am I acting weird?”

“For one, stop calling me for cases. You have always called Garcia and now you’re suddenly calling for me?”

“So I can’t call and ask you to do your job? That’s rich.”

“No asshole, you can’t ask me now. You’ve always asked for Garcia and while it was insulting that you would still do it even though I’ve been doing this for years, I’ve gotten used to it because that’s how you are, Spencer!” You exclaim throwing your hands in the air. “Spencer Reid doesn’t bring me coffee and he certainly doesn’t call to check up on me. Knock it off.”

Spencer’s silent for a second, thinking. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I never thought of it like that. And I certainly never meant to insult you.” He says looking you in the eye. “But we don’t need to worry about me.”

“What do you mean? You’re the only one who’s acting differently.” You say, confused. Spencer just laughs which only makes you look more confused.

“I’m the only one acting different?” He says, taking a step towards you, crowding into your space. You back up slowly until your back hits the wall next to the door. His eyes drift up and down your body and you shiver under the scrutiny. “You’ve been staring at me all morning and the past couple of days we’ve been back. Specifically my hands and mouth. And whenever you do, your hand drifts to that ‘curling iron burn’ you have. Like you’re trying to remember what it felt like.” He’s mere inches away from you now and when you look up you can see the smug smirk on his face. “If I can notice it then so can they. So we don’t need to worry about me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say, stubbornly.

Spencer chuckles darkly. “Yea ok, answer me this then.” He says, his face moving so he’s impossibly close to you. You tilt your chin up to look in the eye and show him you’re not cowering away from him. But for some reason, despite only having sex the two times, his smell takes you out of focus and you’re almost at the point of drooling like a Pavlov dog. He notices this because he always does and smirks and leans down close to you, your eyes drift shut thinking he was about to kiss you. You hate how ready you were for it. “If you were truly worried about me drawing attention to us…. Why did you lock yourself in a room with me?”

With that, he’s reaching behind you and unlocking the file room door, moving around you to go through it. “We’ll talk later.” He adds before leaving you alone, confused and surrounded by cabinets.

---------------------------------------------

You stop in the ladies room to collect your thoughts for a second before heading back into your shared workspace. When you do get back, Penny turns her chair towards you, hands folded manically. You look at her confused.

“You know, I knew something was up. I’m not a profiler or anything but I have a good intuition. So I knew by the way you flushed when I asked about your neck that it wasn’t an iron burn. But I let it go figuring if you wanted to tell me you’d tell me when you wanted. And then, when Derek told me he shared a hotel room with Spencer and saw some very interesting claw marks on his back when he was changing, I also didn’t say anything figuring you’d tell me if there was something to tell and I thought maybe, just maybe, it was a coincidence and the two didn’t correlate at all. But now, imagine my surprise when I was on my way back from the coffee machine that I saw both of you leaving a file room?” Penny smirks at you and you try to keep a straight face but your heart was beating so fast, you’d been had.

“I have no idea what you’re on about. I was just having a conversation with Spencer.”

“Something happened and you’re going to tell me.” She says. “Good Witch.”

Good Witch was a phrase from way back in your hacker days to indicate a I scratch yours, you scratch mine deal between two parties. Since then, you and Garcia coined the term to mean no matter how big the ask the other had to say yes when it was called. Though it was typically used for moving or picking up the other from a bad date, it was never used like this.

“You’re really going to waste a Good Witch on this?” you ask and she nods profusely.

“Fine.” You throw your hands up before sitting across from her. “But my Good Witch is that this stays between us, no one else, including Spencer, can know. She nods and complies you sigh. “We went to the clinic and the Insemination cost was way too high. So we decided we’d you know…. Try the old fashion way.”

Garcia looks at you wide eyed. “You guys didn’t.”

You nod, awkwardly. “It was nothing. Just two times while I was ovulating and if I’m pregnant now, never again.”

Garcia hums. “And you’re sure you don’t just like each other?”

“Garcia, Spencer hates me. We’d never work.”

“You said, Spencer hates me. Not we hate each other like you usually do.” She points at you. “You’re starting to like him.”

“No, I’m not! Just a slip up on my words.” You exclaim, but Garcia gives you a look that screams she doesn’t believe you. “Anyway, you used your Good Witch to ask a question I already answered so I don’t need to tell you anything else.”

“Can you at least tell me this?” She asks. “Was it… good?”

You groan into your hands. “That’s the problem! It was good! Too good! Earth-shattering, mind blowing good that I can’t focus or think of anything that’s not it. And Spencer knows that and he’s being a dick about it.” You sigh. Garcia pats your back, looking sympathetically.

“Well, it’s just like you said, it was just to have the baby, right? So at least you know if you’re pregnant now, you never have to deal with it again.” She smiles before turning back to her screen. She was right, Spencer wouldn’t play games with your emotions like back in the File room if you were actually pregnant now so you could go back to less stress-inducing, Spencer-free mornings, at least until the baby was here.

That was what you wanted.

Right?

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#spencer reid x you #spencer x reader smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer x you #spencer x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid #spencer x y/n #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds #bau x reader

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quillsareswords · 4 years

Note

Could you do something with Damian and a really cuddly, clingy, touchy-feely reader? I feel like his brothers would be v confused about the whole situation bc Damian's just chillin and always seems neutral to what's happening while reader is just like, koala bear hugging him and stuff all the time.

Firstly. I love this concept with every fiber of my being because, oh good god, it's me. Thank you so much for bringing this to inbox, because I've been lacking on inspiration lately, and this is just what I need right now. Thanks doll!!

Prompt List // Masterlist (in bio)

Tim stops dead in his tracks, cereal bowl nearly slipping from his hand as he halts in the doorway to the huge living room. He pauses, before cautiously asking, "What is this? What am I looking at?"

Damian's arm twitches against your back, the only give away that he's been caught off guard. You seem just as relaxed, sprawled on top of him like you've been there your whole life.

You don't even look at him, eyes still glued to the phone screen shining up at you from the floor, which you're facing with your face pressed against Damian's shoulder. "You've known me for five years and you still haven't learned my name? Rude."

He blinks. "Sure, sure. Right. Because it's absolutely normal for anyone to successfully get within a foot of Damian and not get knocked out."

You snort, but it still isn't enough to pry your attention away from your phone. Damian either, as he reads a book over your shoulder, which is settled under his chin. He must be tired or in a terrifyingly good mood, if he hasn't shoved you off in hopes of hiding emotions from his family. That's what he usually does when he gets caught with you, anyway.

He's been tiptoeing around the subject of you for a solid year and half now. It wasn't exactly easy, seeing as you're also a family friend, what with being a vigilante and all. You're Damian's partner, have been for three years, and you're in the manor often enough that you have your own room, right next to Damian's.

Still, even with no clear answers from either of you, the whole family has suspected a relationship for a long time.

But Damian isn't very touch oriented. In fact, he's been known to go to nearly astonishing lengths to avoid being touched at all.

And now here he is, you laying on top of him, out in the open, absolutely unbothered by Tim catching it.

Tim decides quickly not to risk Damian's mood spoiling while he's around, so he backpedals and heads for his room.

• • •

Jason doesn't come to the manor often, but when he does, there's usually a decently concerning reason for it. This time, he's waiting out a possible kidnapping by one king pin or another. You haven't been paying as much attention as you probably should.

Now, he's trotting down the steps from Bruce's office to fix a suspicious rattling noise his motorcycle has been making for a shameful period of time.

However, he stops beside the super computer, looking a little aghast and far too dramatic for the sight.

Damian side-eyes him, still typing away, but his head doesn't move. It really can't, because you're resting your head on top of it.

You're resting your full weight on the back of the chair, which Jason now realizes isn't the tall backed chair that usual sits there, with your cheek buried in the soft looking bush that is Damian's hair. Your eyes are closed, and your arms and draped over his shoulders, hands laying on his chest.

Jason catches himself staring when Damian's side-eyeing turns into a curious glare. Tentatively, Jason points to you, and raises an eyebrow.

Lowly, Damian somewhat patiently answers, "She's half asleep."

Your eyebrows slant together. "Hmm?"

Jason's expression becomes more confused. "She sleeps standing up?"

"Apparently," Damian mumbles.

Jason, more than a little perturbed but Damian's oddly placid demeanor and your absurd sleeping habits, shuffles the rest if the way to his bike, grabbing the toolbox on his way.

• • •

Dick sitting on the floor, wrapped in a blanket—correction, three blankets, facing the rest of the living room, where Damian sits on one couch, and Duke occupies the other.

"No no, I'm not saying Bella wasn't smokin, I'm just saying that those facial expressions and life decisions were questionable enough to make a guy think twice," Dick tries to reason.

Duke makes a face. "Bro, are you kidding? If a chick stares at you from across a lunch room and you've never spoke to her, you don't even try."

Damian scoffs. Duke raises an eyebrow, and just when he's about to beg for the story of who tied him to a steel chair and forced him to watch Twilight, you shoulder the double door open.

Damian doesn't look up from his newest book, which could be deemed rude if you weren't so close and comfortable with one another. "Evening, Beloved, how was your drive?"

You say nothing. You drop your bag by his feet, crawl the rest of the way onto the couch, and collapse. Your head in on a pillow between Damian's thighs and the arm of the couch, the rest of you divided unevenly between his lap and the rest of the couch.

He glances away from the pages briefly. "Traffic?" His hand slips under your shirt to gently run blunt nails up and down your spine.

For a moment, you're quiet, and neither of the two older men know how to react.

Then, without warning, you wail into the pillow. "Who the everloving fuck drives a Winnebago through central Gotham at six o'clock going fourteen miles an hour?"

Duke barks a loud laugh, before he claps a hand over his mouth in fear of a punishment. But a man can only do so much, so he sits with his hand over his mouth, giggling like a fifteen year old listening to a dirty joke with his parents in the room.

Damian chuckles lightly, white teeth peeking through a little smile that he's trying to suppress, much for the same reason Duke is doing his best not to let you hear him laugh.

Dick is more focused on the two of you, and the fact that his baby brother has grown up and changed for the better so much—

• • •

Cassandra climbs the stairs with some difficulty, thanks to two new sets of stitches and a few too many fresh bruises.

It's nothing a few days of relaxation won't fix. It was worth it, to see Poison Ivy put back behind bars—even if it did take four of you.

Shortly after arriving back, you and Damian had disappeared up to his room, after you'd both been checked over by Alfred. Aside from some intense bruising and a fee cuts and scrapes, you'd both been spared.

She knocks on his door a few times. With no answer, she loudly turns the handle and pushes the door open slowly, giving you enough time to correct her if need be. She knows at least one of you are in here, because the light is on. "Alfred sent me to tell you that there's dinner, if you want–"

She stops. You are, in fact, both in the room. However, neither of you are conscious.

Damian is sprawled haphazardly across his bed, face half squished into a pillow.

You're flopped across his back, horizontal across his bed, likely also with a pillow, but she can't see your face to be sure.

For a moment that feels a little intrusive, she stares, eyes wide. Not because he's in only boxers and you're in shorts and a sports bra (neither are necessarily a new sight, with one makeshift locker room in the Cave and a city with way too many privacy-surpassing emergencies), but because she's never witnessed Damian allowing another person to be so close to him while asleep.

Even on week long stakeouts that confine them to one room, he claims one corner for himself and doesn't tolerate that invisible boundary to be broken, especially when he's asleep.

She wouldn't even be so surprised if you were passed out in his reading chair, or even on a pile of blankets in the floor, or hell, even if you were on opposite sides of the bed. But you're literally as close to him as you could possibly be. And he's still sound asleep.

She closes the door and backs away slowly, a little smile on her face, even though she was too tired to laugh at the joke Bruce tried to crack a few minutes ago.

• • •

Bruce sits, almost impatiently, on a stone bench by the fountain the middle of Gotham City Gardens. The whole family had come here for the day, on invitation of the organization's owners. Of course, not everyone was officially recognized as family by anyone outside the Manor, so there were quite a few plus ones—you being one of them.

Of course you were. You're always invited. Over the years, it's become a running joke. A trip to the grocery store? (Y/N) must be invited. Walking from the W.I. building to an ice cream parlor and back? I bet (Y/N) is invited. At one point, Damian became so simultaneously annoyed and amused by it that for a week, you really did join him on every single outing. No one knows how exactly you made it across Gotham in six minutes flat to help him pick up cereal but by golly you managed it.

Bruce is currently waiting on you and Damian, who swore to meet him here for a few pictures (at Alfred's request). The pair of you had gone off on your own after about an hour of meandering around with his family, and no one has heard from either of you since. He would be worried, but you were both too excited about this to get into any trouble that would risk being sent home early.

Your laughter finds him before you do. It comes from around a corner of tall hedges, and shortly after, so do you.

You're smiling ear to ear, giggling like a school girl, elbows balanced on Damian's shoulders, about as precariously as you are on his back. That is to say, quite stable. Damian is grinning as well, his arms linked around you're knees at his sides to keep you as stable as you are. You've got an ice cream cone in each hand, one obviously having had more attention than the other.

Bruce's heart swells in his chest at the absolute joy on his son's face.

Damian stops not too far, shifting your weight to free one hand. You help, carefully resituating yourself to hold yourself up easily. You hand him the neglected ice cream, resting your now free hand on his shoulder.

"Sorry, Father," Damian sounds a little winded, and Bruce wonders if the running he heard earlier had been you two. "Somebody found an ice cream bar and insisted we stop before meeting you." He doesn't sound apologetic in the least.

"Hey!" You laugh, flicking the back of his ear as payback.

As payback for payback, he takes the edge of his cone between his teeth, and uses his free hand to give the back of your knee a quick pinch, before he occupies his hand again to tilt the odds in his favor.

You squeal and jerk. "Damian! You're gonna make me fall, and if I go down, you're coming with me!"

Bruce laughs loudly.

• • •

Alfred is on his way to the library to finish the afternoon chores. All he needs to do is straighten up in there, and he can call it an evening. Just in time, too, as one of the local channels is running a Downton Abbey marathon tonight that he doesn't particularly want to miss.

He pushes open the doors to get a little extra fresh air, but pauses just inside the doorway.

Damian is stretched out in one of the plush leather chairs, his long legs propped up by his ankles on the coffee table, head resting limply on the back of the chair. You're curled up in his lap, head on his shoulder, legs folded up on either side of his thighs, arms wound around his back. His hands are folded together on your back. You're both fast asleep.

The elder man is suddenly flooded with memories of the boy's first few months in this manor. In this room, even. He was politely feral, as Bruce had once put it. He was so uncomfortable all the time, though he fought not to show it. It was so new to him, to be openly cared for the way his family tried to care for him. Most people he met back then treated him as the cold, rude, trained assassin that he presented himself as.

So many overlooked the terrified ten year old boy that shook beneath the armor and the weight of the mantels he was expected to take up in so few years.

Of course Alfred had been paying attention to him all this time, all the growing he's done and the man he's becoming. He's always been proud.

But it's here, in this exact moment, that Alfred really takes in how different he is now, compared to then.

Not only did he find the strength and the trust to forge a close bond with you, one that would arguably outlast just about anything it was forced to endure, but he'd fostered such a sweet affection for you. He's found the space within himself to make room for a great love for you, and his family, and his friends.

And you're so good for him. You remind him of the things he could be, if he wanted, and not of what he should be or could have been. You provide him a sense of normalcy when he needs it, and battle ready companion when he needs that.

You look past the blazing armor of controlled aggression and lessons learned to reach the beautiful soul he is. And most importantly, you love him for all of it. You manage to dig so far beyond what he's been taught and the walls he's put up, that you look at what was meant to be the perfect soldier and you see a pillow to sleep on. You trust him with everything, including your vulnerability, just as he trusts you.

Alfred marks the page of the open book on the floor, closes it, and leaves it in the table for you later. He leaves as quietly as he came, in hopes of leaving the two of you undisturbed.

#damian wayne imagine #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne headcannon #damian wayne blurb

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footballfanfictions · 3 years

Text

The thrill of the chase - Chapter One

Pairings: Mason Mount/OC, Ben Chilwell/OC

Warnings: None for now but you know me, I like a little smut here and there...

-------------------------------------------------

"If I have to edit and upload one more post about golden boy, I'm going to scream" I groaned, rubbing my temples. It's not even 10am on Monday morning and I already want to quit my job.

Brianna is sat on a chair, flipping through a magazine opposite my desk, and although her job doesn't require her to be in an office, she spends most of her time here.

"At least your job involves more than just washing and folding sweaty socks with your dad." She mused.

I rolled my eyes at her. She didn't quite get how annoying it is to be a graphic designer and social media manager that is only given the same images to work with over and over. My eyes flick back to my computer screen and the grinning Male on it. He isn't completely unattractive but him being a footballer and what all the praise he has been getting lately must be doing to his ego was enough to put me off. I would go as far as to say I disliked the guy.

"So if you don't like Mason, who do you watch from this window?" Bri was suddenly up on her feet and standing at my office window. It was floor to ceiling and had a good view of the training complex and sliding door access. The office had used to belong to Jose Mourinho both times he had been the manager here, shunning the actual managers office for one where he could see the pitches clearer. The first team trained about 5ft from where she was standing and if one of them were to look up from their drills they would see her staring out at them.

I pulled her away from the window by her arm.

"I don't sit here looking out of the window all the time, I have a job to do"

Occasionally, if I was on a particularly boring phone call I would let my eyes wander over to the window just to see what they were up to, but never watched any one player in particular. I didn't even know who some of the new faces were.

"Personally I think all the ones around our age are really hot -" Bri then started listing the names off and it sounded like she named the entire 23 man squad by the time she was finished.

We were then interrupted by a knock on my office door and Bri's father Dave stuck his head round it and said "sorry to interrupt girls but Bri and I have some kits to organise." He looked more amused than angry, being pretty used to his daughter avoiding her duties by now. "You wouldn't mind bringing us two of those fancy coffees of yours would you Katie?" He asked.

One of the other perks of having Jose's old office was the coffee machine. He had it installed and compared to the muck that came out of the cafeteria's coffee machines, it produced gold.

"Will do." I replied as Bri scurried over to her father and out of the door.

I decided coffee delivery was a good way to get out of having to stare at all the social media channels for a few minutes.

Once the coffees were made I tipped them from the plastic cups into two mugs from the cupboard beneath the machine, it felt nicer to take them to my friend and her dad that way.

It was tricky negotiating opening my office door with each hand occupied by a steaming hot mug, but I managed to nudge it open with a combination of my elbow and the heel of my shoe. I was just praising myself internally for getting the door open when something knocked into the side of me, tipping the contents of the mug into my right hand over whatever it had been.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry."

I looked up from the hallway carpet which I was worried was stained with coffee, into the smiling face of someone wearing a training kit.

"No that was me, shit sorry. Have I just poured boiling hot coffee all over the star striker or something? Marina will kill me." I put both of the mugs down on the floor and ran back into my office, coming back out a few seconds later with a wad of tissues. I tried to dab the stain on his top with the tissues but they were pretty useless and he knew it too because he put his hand over mine to stop me.

"Don't worry about it love, I'm not star striker, I'm just the left back."

He didn’t seem mad about having coffee thrown all over him. Being a footballer I was half expecting him to throw a fit and go all ‘do you know who I am?’. But he didn’t. Instead, he gave me the nicest smile.

“Please let me get you another training shirt at least? I was just heading to the kit room with the coffees.” I balled up the wad of tissues and put them in the bin in the hallway just to the side of us and picked the mug that I hadn’t dropped back up. Brianna would have to go without and it served her right really for avoiding her job for most of the morning.

“Alright then.” He agreed. “Lead the way, I haven’t been here long, so not sure where to go if I’m honest.”

“Oh right yeah, of course.” I pretended like I knew who he was and that he had only just signed, unsure of whether he could actually tell that I had no idea. He probably did know that as I asked if he was the star striker, when in fact he’s a left back.

He followed me silently down the corridor to the kit room. I knocked once before entering.

“Is that you Katie?” Dave called from inside.

“No, it’s Starbucks” I laughed.

He opened the door, a pair of socks slung over his shoulder.

“Cheers love, come in.” He said.

I looked back at the footballer behind me and gestured for him to follow.

“I had a bit of an accident on the way here Dave and ended up pouring Brianna’s all over…” I was about to ask his name when Dave cut me off.

“Ben Chilwell! I was so chuffed that you’d signed. It’s about time we got an English core to this team back. God Katie did do a number on your shirt didn’t she?” he laughed, clapping Ben on the back, before he went over to a stack of the blue and white training tops.

Ben. Yeah he looked like a Ben. Undeniably he was quite handsome. I saw Brianna out of the corner of my eye, she was sat gawping at him with her mouth half open.

I tried to gesture to Brianna that she needed to put her tongue back in her mouth. She seemed to get the hit and straightened the way she was sat, playing it cool. I tried not to laugh.

Dave passed Ben a fresh shirt, and I got a whiff of the freshly laundered scent as it passed in front of me.

“Thank you so much.” Ben said, accepting the new shirt gratefully. “I’ll try my best to watch where I’m going in the future.”

He gave us all a smile and apologetically said that he needed to get back to training before he left the kit room.

“Blimey!” Brianna sighed once he was gone.

“What?” I asked.

“Sorry that you have to hear this dad, but bloody hell he was fit. I’m disappointed that he didn’t want to change here.” we both started laughing and Dave shook his head, muttering a ‘you two’ under his breath before going back to matching the socks up.

“I’m going to go too, do you want to get lunch later Bri?” I asked, hoping that she would want to walk to the shops with me. I needed a few things and I wouldn’t have much time after work to go.

“Only if we’re getting it here because I want to be in the canteen when they all come in from training.” she was gazing toward the tiny window in the kit room dreamily as she spoke.

I rolled my eyes but agreed.

I spent the walk back to my office wondering if Ben Chilwell actually was as fit as Brianna was making him out to be.

Sitting back down at my desk, I logged back into my computer. I had new emails sat in the inbox. One of them happened to be pictures of the new players for me to edit. I had an edit of every player in the team that I had ready for match days. On a match day I would be in charge of adding time stamps for any goals and then uploading the goal scorer’s picture. Recently, more often than not I had been having to upload the same few pictures of Mason Mount and it was getting a bit boring. The fans loved it though, he was our most retweeted player and often I would read the social media comments, all singing his praises. Especially the young women.

———————————————————————————————————

By the time it got to lunchtime I was sick of photoshop. My program wasn’t running very smoothly, probably in need of an update and I had grown more and more frustrated as the morning went on, having to restart it twice.

Brianna came to my office just before 1 and waited for me to finish off my last edit and lock my computer.

“Good morning?” she asked. “Because no offence you look mega stressed and we don’t need that kind of vibe if we are going to be around fit footballers for the next hour.”

I wanted to eye roll for the millionth time but I cut her some slack. She had recently had a really bad break up and her ex had been a proper bellend. Unfortunately for Bri, she didn’t have the greatest amount of luck when it came to guys. Her ex had broken up with her for another girl and had then continued to hook up with Bri, who had stupidly let him until I had convinced her what a bad idea that was. She was clearly feeling really lonely.

“Someone will come along you know, it doesn’t have to be a footballer.” I said, putting my hand on her arm and squeezing reassuringly.

“But Liam supports Chelsea, so how mad would he be if I got off with one of his favourite players? He’d be begging me to take him back then.” she smirked.

“That’s not what you want though right? To get back with him I mean.” I opened the door and we started to walk down the hallway towards the canteen while we chatted.

“No, I just want him to feel the sting of rejection and know how it feels for once.” she shrugged.

When we reached the door to the canteen there was a young lad with mousey brown hair kind of hanging around. His face lit up at the sight of us and I was slightly taken aback by it.

“After you.” He said, opening the door for us. He had a really strong Scottish accent that I hadn’t heard before. I guessed he must be part of the youth team. He’d probably end up out on loan after loan and we’d never see him again.

“That was strange.” I mumbled to Bri.

She shrugged, walking over to the back of the queue to get food. I followed her and grabbed a tray for myself.

I reached into the chilled drinks cabinet and picked out an iced coffee placing it on my tray.

“Glad to see that isn’t a hot coffee!”

Turning my head to the side, I saw that it was Ben again, standing behind me in the queue and then just behind him, my favourite person of all, Mason Mount.

“Yeah I’m on a final warning about spilling hot drinks over footballers so I’m only allowed cold coffees from now on”. I joked.

“I’m sure Benj will keep you warm in the winter.” Mason piped up.

I tried not to curse under my breath that he was butting into our conversation.

“Mate.” Ben said to Mason, shaking his head.

“What? she is fitter than you said.” Mason bantered back, looking at me rather than Ben.

“Thanks but I don’t need validation from you.” I bantered back, before moving along to the next chiller and picking out a caesar salad and an apple.

I heard the word “feisty” from behind me, but couldn’t tell which one of them had said it as I caught Brianna up in the queue.

She gave me a puzzled look and I shrugged, simply mouthing the word ‘boys’.

As employees we didn’t have to pay for any of our food which was a nice perk of the job and saved me a lot of money in eating out and packed lunches.

We took our food over to one of the tables that we usually sat at whenever we used the canteen and we were joined as usual by some of the other members of support staff.

Brianna was filling them in on my mishap with the coffee that morning while I scrolled through twitter on my phone. I liked to check how our social media platforms looked from the perspective fo the intended audience.

“You’re such a workaholic” Bri scolded me.

I looked up and apologised, tucking my phone away into my pocket.

“You two are polar opposites” Jane, one of the physios said. “I do agree with Brianna to an extent about some of the new faces. If I were a few years younger…”

Jane was a bit like our work mother. She was in her mid 50s and happily married with two teenage boys of her own to contend with. Because she had never had any daughters, she took particular care of me and Bri and loved to join in with our girl talk.

“I don’t think it would be worth the hassle personally” I shrugged.

Jane grinned. “You’re so sensible Katie, and probably right. Young men with too much fame and money probably don’t make the best partners. I tried to say that about my Martin too, back in the day. He was in the army and you know what they say about them!”

We both looked at her waiting for her to give us the answer.

“You know, a girl in every base town.” she laughed. “I tamed him though. Maybe don’t write them off completely.”

I wasn’t sure that I wanted to attempt to find a partner at all. I had been single since things that fallen apart with my ex when we both left uni. At uni we had a lot more time for each other, despite the different schedules and studying. When I had started working for Chelsea I put everything that I had into my job, desperately wanting to make a good impression. Hundreds of people had applied for the position and I wanted to make them feel like they had made the right choice in hiring me. So long days in the office turned into long days and evenings in the office, especially when Chelsea had late kick offs. I just found it easier to be in my office with the radio commentary on, sending out the tweets as the goals went in.

“Katie, are you listening? You zoned out a bit again.” Jane said, waving her hand in front of my face.

“Sorry just thinking about my to do list” I mumbled, trying not to admit to them that I had been thinking about Rory again. Sometimes it isn’t the person that you miss, just the feeling of having someone.

“I was just making you aware that are three young men constantly looking over here.” she said, trying to keep her voice low.

I was curious so I looked, there were a few of them sat at the furthest table, but none of them were looking in our direction.

“Who?” I asked.

“Oh I don’t know the names, I just deal with the injuries.” she shrugged.

“Well that’s helpful then” Bri said, pouting. “I wanted to know which ones fancied me so that I could target my flirting.”

———————————————————————————————————

Ben

“Go and talk to her.” Mason encouraged me.

I shook my head, trying to focus on eating my food, although I hadn’t really been able to. I had just been using my fork to move it around my plate aimlessly.

“No.” I mumbled. “I barely even know the girl. She spilt her coffee on me then got me another training shirt.”

“Oh yeah.” Mason smirked. “Did she help you put it on too?”

“She got you a new training shirt?” It was Billy that spoke now. He looked really nervous and was pretty much doing the same as me, forking his food around rather than actually eating it.

“Yeah from that room with all the kits in” I responded.

“Oh.” he said quietly, looking down.

I caught on then. Billy had been ahead of us coming off the training pitch and I had seen him wait and then open the door for the girls with a big grin on his face. I had thought he was just being polite, but I now realised it was more than that. He had waited on purpose and obviously liked one of them.

“It was the brunette one. The little blonde was in the room too but it wasn’t here that me and Mase were talking about” as I explained I watched Billy brighten back up again. It was the other one that he fancied, not Katie, and for some reason I was relieved.

Mason caught on then too.

“Hang on, do you like that one or something? The kit man’s daughter?” Mason asked him.

He had raised his voice a bit in excitement so I gestured for him to speak quieter.

“Yeah only for the last few years, you know.” Billy responded, blushing a bit.

Mason would probably take the piss out of him for the rest of the afternoon and god forbid if Tammy or Jorginho found out, poor Billy would absolutely never hear the end of it.

“Have you ever tried to tell her?” I asked him.

“Only once, but I chickened out because I heard she had a fella” he shrugged.

“When was that?” I pressed.

“Couple of years ago, but then I kept being sent out on loan so couldnae’ really have asked her out any way” he sighed and put his fork down at the side of his plate.

I decided then that I was going to make it my mission to get Billy to ask that girl out. The worst she could say was no and he wouldn’t be any worse off than he was now. I could even use it to my advantage and casually speak to Katie about the two of them.

I looked over at her table again, she looked a little sad.

I had promised myself that I would focus on my career for a bit and not get involved with any girls for a bit, but here I was on day bloody one simping over a girl I’d only just met. I cursed myself for it.

#ben chilwell #mason mount #football fanfiction #football fanfic #billy gilmour

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digitalworldbound · 3 years

Text

one step forward

Pairing: Ken x Miyako

Summary: “I can’t talk to cute people, okay? I don’t know how to flirt!” (#30 on the prompt list) Requested by @digichijouji02

Author’s Note: I’ve never written a “song-fic”, but I love Olivia Rodrigo’s album AND Kenyako, so this?? was the result. (this is unedited and kind of abrupt)

Called you on the phone today

Just to ask you how you were

All I did was speak normally

Somehow I still struck a nerve

Daisuke had given her Ken’s number as a preemptive measure. “Even if he isn’t apart of our team right now, I’m sure the others will come around soon.”

His oppressive optimism was almost worse than Takeru’s. Iori had made his stance clear on the situation, and Miyako could feel the guilt bubble up in her stomach as she punched the digits into her house phone. Nerves settled into her hands, her fingers desperately rearranging her hair in an effort to feel in control.

Three short rings later, the line picked up. His breath ghosted over the receiver. Miyako’s carefully planned greeting died on her lips. “Ah, is this Ken?” It was a stupid question – how else would she have his number if she didn’t know who he was? She pushed the phone closer to her ear, straining to discover any sound through the cloud of white static. Nothing.

Her heart pounded in her chest. In all of the reactions she prepared herself for, Miyako hadn’t expected silence. She wanted him to be angry; he had every right to be. She wanted him to yell at her or cry or scream. Screaming would be more bearable than the static he was giving her now.

“How have you been? You know, since…everything?” The sharp intake of breath short-circuited her brain. Ken had just watched his partner dissolve in front of his eyes, and she had the audacity to ask how he was holding up? A flush of shame crawled up her neck. She prayed for the ground to open up and swallow her.

The receiver clicked. Miyako hated the way the dial tone mocked her.

You got me messed up in the head, boy Never doubted myself so much Like, am I pretty? Am I fun, boy? I hate that I give you power over that kind of stuff

Winter air nipped at her exposed cheeks. It had taken her a while to find his apartment; her toes felt like ice in her boots. He hadn’t really spoken to her since the phone call, only acknowledging her when the situation called for it. Nevertheless, he had invited them all over for a Christmas party, and who was Miyako to say no?

His mother opened the door, the smell of freshly baked gingersnaps escaping into the night. “Come in, dear. You must be Miyako! My Ken has told me a lot about you.” The woman ushered Miyako towards a bedroom door before her shock could register. What is there to tell? The only time I’ve talked to him was to slap him in the face.

Ken’s mother knocked lightly on the door, announcing Miyako’s arrival. For some reason, she could feel her cheeks burn when Ken gestured her further into his bedroom. “You look nice, Miyako.” His voice was barely a whisper, the boisterous arguing of Takeru and Daisuke nearly drowning him out.

Self-consciously, she caught her reflection in the glass of a clock on the wall. It had been a harsh winter, the snow getting the best of any potential customers to her family’s convenience store. Her sister’s skirt was too short for Miyako’s long legs, so she layered her old ballet tights underneath. They did little to fend off the cold, but it preserved what little dignity she had around her friends. The attempts at curling her hair were futile. Snowflakes clung to the curls, the strands now hanging limply around her face. She grumbled a bit under her breath, racking her brain for the reasoning behind Ken’s blatant lie.

A card game was in full swing by the time Miyako wedged herself between Iori and Takeru. They both smiled at her before turning back to the issue at hand: Daisuke was cheating.

“Just because I have natural talent doesn’t mean that you can be jealous, Takeru.”

“I don’t think it takes natural talent to look at Hikari’s cards.” The blond deadpanned. Iori sighed and exchanged a look with Ken. They, unlike Takeru and Daisuke, seemed to have formed a companiable silence in the midst of the chaos.

Daisuke’s bickering rattled her brain. With Ken’s unsolicited compliment and the constant arguing, Miyako was already at her wit’s end. “Can you both just shut up and stop trying to mark your territory like untrained puppies?”

Her voice echoed off of Ken’s bare walls. Their Digimon temporarily stopped their feast to look at her curiously. Poromon bounced into her lap, snuggling into her chest. Five pairs of wide yes regarded her with surprise, and Miyako could feel herself grow uncomfortably warm. A giggle burst from Ken’s lips, his cheeks rosy. She had never heard him laugh before.

Soon, they were all laughing. Cards were strewn about as they rolled on the floor, laughing harder when they realized they couldn’t stop.

As the party wrapped up, Miyako was the last to leave. Poromon and Minomon snuggled together underneath a blanket while Ken talked. Her cheeks warmed under the attention, but Ken either didn’t notice or was too kind to mention it. The hands on the clock ticked forwards until his mother startled them with a knock. “Miyako, it’s getting late. I wouldn’t want your parents to worry.” Her eyes were soft and full of kindness; Ken had inherited her smile.

“Of course! I apologize for staying so late. Thank you for allowing me to come over.” She stood and bowed clumsily. Her family valued no such formalities, but if anyone deserved them, it was Ken’s mother.

Ken walked her to his threshold, a hand nervously resting on her back. Despite being underdressed, he stepped out into the chilly night air behind her. A smile played on his lips, causing a swarm of butterflies to erupt in Miyako’s stomach.

“I wasn’t joking, you know?” His eyes looked out onto the horizon. Miyako raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?” The cold had already wormed its way through her tights; she was ready to get home.

His dark blue eyes met hers. “You do look nice tonight.” For someone so shy, so quiet, Ken said it with a conviction that made Miyako’s cheeks color.

Her hands were sweaty, her heart was so loud. Maybe I’m getting sick.

Ken’s eyes were so earnest, so full, waiting her response. The ball was in her court, and she was fumbling. “Ah, um, Ken, I don’t know what to say.” His shoulders drooped, eyes tearing away from hers before fixating on some imaginary point in the distance.

“You don’t have to say anything. Goodnight, Miyako.”

He didn’t have a chance to turn the doorknob before the older girl began to panic. She grabbed his wrist, pulling his backwards.

“No! Ken, that’s not what I meant! I mean, at first I had no idea, and then Daisuke was being all, well, Daisuke. But then the cards were all a mess and this isn’t even my skirt, and I had no-“

Ken’s lips twitched upwards, his eyes empty. “Miyako, you don’t have to make me feel better.” He glances at his watch, “It’s getting late, you should be on your way home.”

“No.” Her hand tightened around his wrist. Ken looked so small and confused that Miyako’s heart gave a painful lurch. Ken couldn’t leave until she said her piece.

The air burned her throat; she was sure that he could feel her fingers tremble against his skin. “I’m trying to say thank you. It’s just that I can’t talk to cute people, okay? I’ve never been in this situation before, and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.”

Silence, then “You think I’m cute?”

'Cause it's always one step forward and three steps back I'm the love of your life until I make you mad It's always one step forward and three steps back Do you love me, want me, hate me? Boy, I don't understand No, I don't understand

It must have been something in the eggnog, she thought. That’s the only explanation. It was the fourth of January. Her D-Terminal had remained silent since the defeat MaloMyotismon, Ken ignoring her messages with a practiced ease. It was hard to not take it personal. She knew that they all needed the space and time to grieve, but Ken hated to be alone. Miyako had been so sure that they were finally getting somewhere, finally becoming friends. Her inbox was empty.

The shrine was also uncharacteristically empty, her family making up the majority of the crowd. Her family had also remained silent. Ultimately, they were glad she was safe. Her siblings were miffed that their little sister had been trapezing between worlds while they focused on their math homework but were incredibly proud of the way she handled herself. Her parents hadn’t looked in her eyes since.

She had tried to message her friends about it, but not even Iori would respond. Lost in thought, her brother shoved her forward when it was her turn to pray. Muscle memory was the only reason she was capable of tossing in her coins and clapping.

Prayer seemed superficial in the face of the battle they had fought. Prayer hadn’t saved the children from their Dark Seeds or made the fight any easier to win. Still, her head bowed in thanks. At least her friends had been spared.

She prayed for strength, to face whatever came next. She prayed for the wellbeing of her family, and her partner. She prayed for her friends; she prayed for Ken.

Her D-Terminal beeped.

#kenyako #ken ichijouji #miyako inoue

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poutyniall · 2 years

Note

About your mother, I may have the same struggle but with my father so I know what it feels like to just simply be exhausted of the family you were born in. Idk anything about your financial condition but bestie the best way for you (and for me) is to collect enough money and move out. You said it yourself in that post about the Pompei tower that distance puts alot of things in perspective and lets you breathe a little clearer. Speaking as a person who's tried to be silent and diminish her entire existence just so she could get a little peace, these parents will not stop. They WILL find a way to make you go through terrible feelings and then act the victim. It's sad but it's true and it's time we take life into our own hands.

And I know it's easier said than done, especially if there's a cultural barrier to overcome too woth moving out, but I believe in you. We can do this. I'm rooting for you!!!

Ps, my inbox is always ALWAYSS open if things get overwhelming bcz people who provide safe places to others often times don't have them for themselves, please don't hesitate to shoot me a text and we can talk through whatever new shit your mom cooked up (I'm sorry but I can't be respectful to her after reading all the bad ways she makes you feel)

My father always made sure, and still does, I had everything I needed when it comes to material things but for the emotional and psychological part it's like I grew up without a father. He has always been a mere physical presence. One of the things that hurts me the most is the fact that I have never ever heard him say my name (which I hate but they both chose). But I try to ignore the hurt from the present also because I know that even if he'd start caring now it's not going to fill the emptiness that the little me grew up with. It's not gonna fix that. But I'm also trying to focus more on the skills I got from those painful experiences. It's because I was almost always alone (apart from school and form 6/7 pm), since I was 11 years old, that I love reading and books, they've been my friends since then, and I know how to stay by myself and gods and all the saints above help whoever the fuck try to steal my alone time from me, I need it! And always thanks to that I am responsible, whatever the fuck that means, and I can take care of myself, of my body at least. And it thanks to the fact that I could never count on them that I can get by almost everything on my own. This also means I don't know how to ask for help, but let's not focus on that now. Example: every time I know I'm going to drive somewhere farther from the area I live, which happens because I like going on adventures with my car, that by the way is just a Fiat 600 so it's quite small and omg! one of my short term goals is to go to Roma, just me and my little car! Aaaahhh I gotta do it!! Sorry, I get distracted easily. So anyway, when I know it I always check the water, the oil, the tires… I prevent.

And all this rumbling to say that I hope you have a better relationship with your mother instead.

And yes, money is always one of the biggest problems. I can't afford do move out but still the main goal is to break the connection inside, because yes, I could move to the other side of the world but what's the point if I still have the tiny version of her in my head?

This way of acting is very subtle and cruel, like privacy, personal space and no don't exist for her. She always goes through my stuff, walks into the bathroom without knocking, used to eavesdrop my conversations but she can't do it anymore because I only text now, hugs and kisses me even if I say not to and what's her answer? ''Jesus, I'm your mother, can't I even hug you know? I don't even have this right anymore?'' and of course I feel guilty. And I also feel guilty saying this, but this whole dynamic is soo damn toxic.

Aish, I ended up venting, I'm sorry. And thank you so much my dear, for the kindness, the availability, the time you gave me, for everything. And same here, you can talk to me anytime and about everything, this will always be a safe place for everyone.

Also, I'm rooting for you too!! We'll get there, one little step at the time.

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spiltscribbles · 3 years

Note

Any chance you could give us some Arabic speaking Remus headcanons? Loved your latest fic ❤️ 📚

OMFG gorgeous sugarplum! I legit only just was reminded of this while scrolling through my inbox right now! But my heart is finna burst!!! Thank you SO SO much and yes I would love to give some Headcanons about this! Especially since the next long story I’m working on includes this dynamic, and I’m so excited about it!! However, common disclaimer that while I am Arab and culturally Muslim even if I don’t practice like the rest of my family lol, I am Palestinian and not Syrian. So with every identity there are different experiences and customs no matter how closely intertwined. So I apologize for any inconsistency that a Syrian may read and disagree with, and please feel free to correct me<3 <3

The FIC this HC is from

So first off some background on his mum in the story

I chose the name Vivian based off a friend of a friend who’s uncle married a woman by that name back in Palestine, so it’s definitely extremely uncommon, but a fully Arab lady was named it, so like it’s my defense bahaha. But it also means lively, and coupled with Hussein as her maiden name which means beautiful, it just fit her personality to a t!!

She was born into a pretty secular family in Syria in the late 1920s, so there was a lot going on in that time period. But her dad was pretty influential, working in the government and such. Vivian was also the youngest of four girls and three boys so she was pretty spoiled tbh

She attended a boarding school in France through out her adolescence and decided to go to university there too, so she’s fluent in both Arabic and French, with pretty great English as well. Though she wasn’t exactly white passing, even though like a bunch of Syrians/Palestinians/Lebanese folk she was somewhat fair, she had distinctly Arabian features, like the large almond shaped eyes and thick lashes and thicker brows, and a long, largeish nose, accented by full lips. So she experienced a good amount of jeers and discrimination, especially when folks found out her surname. So I think she’s able to relate to Remus in that sense of being a wolf at least, and later on when he comes out as gay.

It was 1950 when she and a few of her girlfriends went to Wales for holiday after completing university. The second Lyall first spotted her in the woods while she was trying to make it back to the cabin near the Irish Sea with her mates, it was something like love, because duh. She was a fucking knock out!! A babe and a baddy! Literally so far out of his league its ridiculous! But on Vivian’s side, she was mostly just amused and a bit enamored by this cocksure Welshman who had the most endearing of crooked smiles that their son would inherit a decade later. So obviously she didn’t make it easy on him, but eventually she let him take her out on the last night of her trip, and was pleased to find out that they had the same sort of humor and the same passion for their careers and even the same love for the outdoors too.

They had a long distance relationship for two years while she went to grad school so she could teach about classics while Lyall himself was rising the ranks in the Ministry for regulation and control of magical creatures— Unbeknownst to her, the Floo network was very helpful with the distance. Just thank God Lyall himself is a Muggle born because he really had to fake the hell out of it lol.

So just to speed things up they got married on a lovely June evening in 1955, subsequent to Vivian excepting a professorial job in Cardiff after Lyall told her about the Wizarding world. At first Vivian thought e was tripping on some subpar edibles until he proved it by transfiguring her snuff box into a lovely broach that she kept for the rest of her life, So after Vivian was convinced, she became absolutely enthralled by all of the magic so completely.

They were trying for a few years when she finally became pregnant with Remus in 1959, and they were both so over the moon (pun unintended).

So like I said above, Vivian’s family are pretty secular, so I see her mostly practicing the cultural aspects of Islam. For example, every Friday— which is the equivalent to Sundays being the holy day for Christians— she lights up the instance that she always keeps herself stocked up on after her annual trip to Syria, instead of the typical candles she ordinarily prefers. And Remus swears that for the rest of his life whenever he smells it, he’s back to being a baby, puttering around the house and watching her dusting the shelves while humming quietly an Arabic song that’ played out the gramophone by a man who’s music would soon become regarded as the song of the people. Or Remus would recall being snuggled into her lap while she read him a novel on the windowsill. Or he’d simply remember listening to his parents laughter fluttering in the air while he fell asleep by the fire, subconsciously making the flower buds closest to him bloom with his untapped magic.

Remus’s first clear memory— thanks to the endless pictures— is when he was around four years old, before the attack, and they were staying in Vivian’s home town in Damascus. While the men congregated out doors for cigars and cards and the women in the living room chatting while snacking on watermelon seeds, his older cousins— who were all girls— dragged him off to one of the bedrooms and doted on him because he was the baby of that side of the family. And he remembers walking out in a set of one of their heels and a headscarf wrapped around his head which made his Mama and Tata and Aumties laugh out loud and croon over him, and all his uncles and Sido call him Aumty Remus.

The attack by Greyback happened soon after they returned to Wales, and I’m not gonna touch on it becs I’ not finna depress myself. But it was a January morning after his first transformation and he remembers that when he woke up, he saw the cookies stuffed with dates resting on his bedside with a glass of milk that Lyall had put a cooling charm on. And they’re indulgent treats that Vivian makes for both Eids every year even though they don’t celebrate them in any other way lol. But the cookies always reminds him of family and of feeling safe in his mother’s arms, and they still work to make him feel better even after the worst thing he has ever experienced in his short life.

Remus’s love of poetry came from both sides of his parents, but it was listening to his mother recite the story of Majnun Layla in it’s original Arabic that really made him glow for the art form, and brought him to discovering his favorites like Auden and Neruda.

There’s a ornate, wooden prayer box that has been past down on the Hussein side of the family for five generations, it was originally meant to hold a Qran but for the past three it’s simply just been a beautiful piece of decoration. So when Vivian gave it to Remus when he was headed off to Hogwarts, little Remus asked McGonagall to help him with locking charms so it could become a safe place for him to keep his most cherished of nicknacks ant momentos, so obviously, she silently added a charm to keep the wood nearly unbreakable and the extension charm atop of that, like Hermione with her bag, so that he could keep as many happy memories as possible inside of it, and she prayed that there would be so many that it threatened to burst.

The last time Remus opened the box was in 1996, when he was putting away the ring Sirius gifted him as a match to his own in some feeble promise of forever only weeks before James and Lily’s own engagement.

Once during first year, he and the lads were staying up late, trading stories about how they got their most ridiculous scars— after seeing the one that scraped across Remus’s left shoulder blade— But it got to a point where they were all feeling a bit nippish, so they went down to the kitchens for some of the chocolate pudding that was served during dinner that night. And Remus idly asked the house elves if they could make him a batch of Kinafa because he was getting home sick and missed when he and his Mama would dash over to the city whenever they were feeling antsy, and she’d take him to their favorite hooka bar after buying a round of the dessert— which is basically sweetbread stuffed with cheese— from down the block. And they’d stay sitting beneath the starlight, and talking about her job and his lessons from school while she’d let him try a discrete puff or two and they’d laugh about everything and nothing at all.

The next time they stopped by the kitchens one of the younger house elves presented him with the snack gleefully, and it tasted fine, just not like how they do back home. So Remus smiled warmly at Tipsy, the house elf, and thanked her with real sincerity.

But his face must’ve betrayed him because after easter break, Sirius plops down a fresh batch of them on Remus’s bed before leaping into his own, casually mentioning that he saw how grossed out Remus looked when trying the one the house elves made, and it was from a restaurant close to Grimmauld so it’s not that big of a deal, and then he rushed to cursing at James for stealing his favorite pen and swearing that if he broke it he’s gonna have hell to pay. Remus had only blushed and chuckled with a small smile on his face when he cut himself a small piece and finished the half sheet off with the rest of their house later that night during an impromptu party that the Marauders would become infamous for in later years.

It was the summer after second year when all the marauders visited Remus back home in Wales and when they heard Vivian call him Qamar practically every other sentence, which of course lead to endless ribbing and eventually to his nickname of Moony— even though it’s so fucking obvious and Remus loves and hates it in equal parts. God his friends are so fucking stress inducing!

Remus teaches the other marauders funny Arabic curse words and they use them in class so that they can talk shit about particularly disgusting Slytherins without them being any of the wiser. (Yes I did do this with my friends, and I’d do it again! POW! POW! POW!)

It’s from Vivian that Remus has an affinity for coffee as strong as shit, but also prefers his tea weak— specifically two sugars and a dash of milk. But seriously, if you’ve ever tried Arabian coffee you’d understand, that shit is so fucking strong it’s literally a hate crime LMFAO. But yeah, this habit is definitely a point of contention between him and Sirius— who’s actually so fucking posh no matter how much he wants to be punk, and he stands by only drinking black tea— like Merlin intended— and saying bugger off to any and all coffees. “Leave that shite to the French and Americans.” And Remus would try to keep himself from making eyes at him from across the table, because God Sirius is hot when he’s all fiery and impassioned, even when it’s about the dumbest, most inconsequential shit.

Something that’s sort of funny is that Remus was the first among them to become a fucking pot head and could drink them all under the table even though Sirius himself has got two stone and three inches on him. But Remus still refuses to eat ham, purely because he never grew up eating it and doesn’t care too now. Sirius had to specifically ask Euphemia and Monty to make turkey for Christmas dinner their sixth year just because he knew that Remus’s head would probably implode with the decision between being rude and not eating it or forcing himself to gag down the unfamiliar meat.

When Remus is really, really fucking drunk he definitely spends the night only speaking in Arabic! (Don’t look at me I’m trash just because I stole this from my own life lmfao) But yeah, it’s really fucking hilarious and Sirius swears to God he’s so fucking in love with him while listening to Remus ranting in the unfamiliar language. And he’s like positive that half the time he’s actually just cursing Sirius out but he doesn’t even care because it’s SO! DAMN! CUTE! And sometimes Sirius decides to speak French at a drunk off his arse Moony, who occasionally replies back in a stiff staccato before returning back to the easy Arabic. And it’s just a mess.

Ok so sadness warning

In my head, Vivian loses her fight against breast cancer the July after the Marauders graduate from Hogwarts, and afterwords Remus gets a tattoo of her name in Arabic on his chest, and the word for soul on the nape of his neck. He locks away that battered copy of Magnun Layla in the wooden box she gave him years ago, along with a woolen scarf that smelt like her perfume.

It’s Sirius who buys a set of prayer beads to hang off her photo above the mantel in the flat he and Remus share, and when Remus sees it he literally feels like he might crack open with tears, but opts to kiss Sirius thank you instead, and they stay tangled on the sofa for the rest of the day in quiet contemplation.

One night, in late 1979, while the war was only getting worse and worse— Sirius was hit by a cutting curse to the ribs. And it was really fucking bad, but thankfully James got him to his house in time for Lily to help and heal. He slept for the most part for nearly an entire day, but remembers snippets. Like when Remus had sprinted into the room with fear painted all over his soft features, and when James put a cooling cloth to his head. But most distinctly, Sirius recalls Remus gingerly lying besides him and Sirius talking gibberish at his boyfriend while Remus plunged his entire face against his back, eyes wet with tears and body shuttering as he squeezed him softly, saying something quietly in Arabic. Sirius obviously didn’t understand like 99.9% of it, but he did catch the word “Habibi,” which he instantly remembers as an old pet name Vivian use to call Remus with so much love it made her entire countenance sparkle. It’s an endearment that means beloved, or darling, and it feels like Remus is begging Sirius to stay with him and Sirius’s throat is still raw from the screaming, so he can only reply by dragging Remus’s hand up to his mouth and kissing his knuckles tenderly. And he knows that whatever he does for the rest of his days, he loves Remus Lupin with every cell in his body.

Oof this got mad depressing…. Chow anyways, I can add a picture of the container you’re suppose to use for the instance if anyone wants that?

Thank you again dear Nonny!!!

Ask Me For Headcanons About A Story I’ve Written Or For One You Want To See Written

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #MARAUDERS #THE HARRY POTTER SERIES #SIRIUSXREMUS #REMUSXSIRIUS #HEADCANONS #HEADCANONS BY LEN #FIC: MAMA LUPIN IS A BABE

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doc-pickles · 3 years

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i saw mommy kissin’ santa claus

Hello! And welcome to “Festive Fridays with Two Dumb Bitches So Dumb They Can’t Stick to the Schedule They Make for Themselves” featuring me and @odd-birds-and-booksellers We wanted to find a day of the week for December to post our Christmas fics on and decided on Thursdays (this was originally titled ‘Two Dumb Bitches Thursday’ but we are both terrible procrastinators so now we have that fancy new title up there)

Will you get posts on Thursdays? Fridays? Who knows! But we’ve both committed to posting once a week every week of December with a fun festive fic! (Please don’t come to our inboxes and hound us about them, we yell at each other enough as it is and Lay is mean.....)

Anyways this is my first fluffy fic entry of the month and it’s definitely not inspired by real life events. Hope you enjoy! :)

(also this is not my best work because i’m sleep deprived and also my pregnancy brain is not letting me write how i normally do soooo cut me some slack please and thanks)

“Karev!”

Both Jo and Alex turned at the sound of Bailey’s voice behind them, the woman looking expectantly at Alex. Now that he wasn’t a young resident, Bailey rarely evoked a feeling of fear in him but today her stern voice had him racking his brain for anything he’d done wrong recently.

“What can I do for you, Chief?”

“Doctor Peterson retired earlier this year,” Bailey waited for either Jo or Alex to make a connection from her words, but both stared blankly at her instead. “Doctor Peterson used to dress up as Santa every year for the Peds Ward Christmas party. Since he’s no longer available, I need a replacement.”

Jo’s eyes lit up in delight as she turned to Alex who wore an unamused expression, “Absolutely not, I am not putting on that ridiculous costume.”

“Oh c’mon! It’s for sick kids Alex,” Jo settled a hand onto her husband's arm as she batted her eyelashes at him. “It’ll be fun! You should do it!”

Alex looked between his wife and his boss, Jo smiling excitedly at him while Bailey fixed him with a glare. A groan left him as he realized he didn’t have a say in the matter, “Fine I'll do it. But I’m not happy about it.”

Jo let out an excited squeal as Bailey thanked him, walking away with a satisfied smirk. Turning to his giddy wife, Alex wrapped his arm around her waist and leaned down to whisper in her ear, “You better make this worth my damn while.”

“What, do you want me to come and sit on Santa’s lap and tell him what I want for Christmas,” Jo rolled her eyes, but Alex kept his gaze fixed on her. “You’re serious? You really are a pervy old man sometimes I swear.” Alex swatted at Jo’s ass playfully as she walked away from him. If she hadn’t happened to be standing next to him when Bailey asked he wouldn’t have caved so easily. His eyes narrowed at the thought, knowing that at least one of the women had planned that out.

“Stupid freakin’ Santa costume…”

There was a reason that he’d avoided the Christmas party for the Peds ward all these years and he finally realized why. Alex was surrounded by dozens of sugar high children who hadn’t seen outside of the hospital walls in weeks. He loved his job and working with kids, but he rarely had to deal with them when they were running around and screaming at the top of their lungs.

“Well you look like you’re having a great time,” Meredith sidled up to Alex, chuckling as she pulled on his fake beard. “The white doesn’t look so bad on you, maybe by next Christmas you won’t even need the fake beard.” “Oh shut up, I’m only here because Jo made me come. And she hasn’t even bothered to show up and make things around here more enjoyable,” Alex grumbled as he swatted away Meredith’s hand. He’d been sitting with kids on his lap for almost an hour and a half now, asking them what they wanted for Christmas and listening to their lists. “I’ve got fifteen minutes left before I can go home and drink beer and I can’t wait.”

“I’ve gotta go find my kids in this madness, but it looks like you have another visitor,” Meredith gestured to the little girl patiently waiting to meet Santa, bright blue eyes staring up at Alex in awe. “Have fun Santa!”

As soon as she was gone, the little girl bounded up to Alex and settled herself onto his lap, a gap toothed grin appearing on her face. Alex recognized her as one of his own patients, five year old Lauren who had a gastrointestinal problem that kept her in the hospital for weeks at a time, “Hi Santa!”

“Hi Lauren,” Alex almost chuckled at Lauren’s wide eyed expression when she realized that ‘Santa’ knew her name. “What do you want for Christmas?”

“I want a Barbie dream house and a pink glitter ballerina Barbie too,” Lauren was full of giggles as she relayed her wish list to Alex. Her expression softened however and she leaned in close to him, whispering her next words. “And I want my tummy to feel all better so I can go home and have a real Christmas. Christmas in the hospital is no fun.” Alex’s heart broke at the little girls words, realizing just how much of a toll being here was taking on such a young girl, “You know what, I think your doctors will do their very best to get you home for Christmas so you can play with all your new Barbies. How does that sound?” Lauren’s face lit up at Alex’s words, her arms wrapping around his neck as she giggled in delight. A string of thank yous left her as she hopped off Alex’s lap and reunited with her mother, who sent an appreciative wave in his direction.

“Well aren’t you the best Santa in the world,” Alex turned at the sound of Jo’s voice, holding back an eye roll as she lifted her camera to snap a photo of him. “See, I told you it wouldn’t be that bad! Your mom is going to love that photo, I hope she puts it on the mantle.” “Did you come here for any reason besides to mock me,” Alex grumbled. “I’m almost done with this and then I’m never doing it again no matter how much you beg.” Alex couldn’t help but smirk at Jo’s amused expression. She looked so happy that he was doing this, like it had made her whole year. If nothing else, Jo’s excitement made the stupid gig worth it.

“Well I came here to tell Santa what I want for Christmas but if he’s too grumpy…,” Alex reached for Jo’s hand, pulling her into his lap as she laughed at his antics.

“Now what do you want for Christmas,” Alex pressed his face into Jo’s neck, more laughter coming from her at the feel of the fake beard against her skin. “I’m sure Santa would be more than happy to oblige.”

“You realize you’re trying to talk dirty to me at a children’s party right,” Alex pinched Jo’s leg at her remark, a squeal leaving her as she jumped. “Okay okay, what I want for Christmas is… a baby.”

“A baby?”

“Yes a baby,” Jo grinned widely, leaning in close to Alex with a twinkle in her eyes. “I want you to knock me up. Preferably not wearing the Santa costume.”

Alex stared dumbly up at his wife for a moment, her grin never fading as she watched him process what she’d said. A baby… Jo wanted to have kids. Kids with him.

“You know there’s easier ways to say that you want to try for a baby,” Alex chuckled as he leaned up to kiss Jo, his fake beard getting in the way of his attempt. “C’mon let’s go home, I finished my duty for the day. Maybe if you’ve make it on the nice list I’ll put in a good word for you with Santa.” A string of giggles left Jo as she watched Alex try and sneak out of the room, instead getting ambushed by almost all of the kids that were running around. After a quick goodbye and a promise to work hard on their wishes, the pair finally made it out of the room, Alex turning to Jo with a grin, “You want one of those? You sure?”

“More than anything. Now kiss me,” Jo pointed upwards to the doorway where a sprig of mistletoe hung. “It’s tradition.”

“I can’t believe you volunteered to do this this year,” Meredith stared dumbfoundedly at Alex, who sat in his chair with a smirk peeking through his fake beard. “Seriously, are you feeling okay? You couldn’t stop complaining last year.” “Would you pipe down, it’s different this year,” Alex shrugged, waving at one of the kids that ran by. “I wanted to spread some Christmas cheer to sick kids, is that so wrong?” “Don’t listen to him, he didn’t want some ‘germy mall Santa’ to hold Peyton for photos,” Meredith turned at the sound of Jo’s voice, a grin lighting up her face as she took in the sight of the small baby cradled in the baby sling across Jo’s chest. “Although the peds ward of a hospital can’t be much better.”

“Stop whining and come over here,” Alex held his arms out, expecting Jo to hand the baby to him but instead having her sit across his lap. “Really? You’re gonna sit on my lap again?”

Jo shrugged, pressing a kiss against his cheek as Alex reached up to uncover the baby’s face, “I figured my Christmas wish came true last year, might as well go again.” “Listen I love you but this one barely sleeps through the night as it is,” Alex gestured to Meredith, who was smiling at the happy family with her phone in hand. “Now would you smile so we can have a semi decent first Christmas photo for our daughter.” Jo and Alex both wore bright smiles as they looked at Meredith, the two month old between them not even batting an eyelash as she slept soundly on her mom’s chest. The warm feeling in Jo’s chest almost made her tear up, thinking to just the year before when her husband had begrudgingly put on a Santa costume to please her. This year he had eagerly gone through the motions, excited to create memories with their daughter without a care about all of the patients that came with the deal.

“What’s on your mind? You have that blissed out look on your face,” Alex’s fingers on her cheek snapped Jo out of her daze, her lips coming down to press against his briefly.

“Nothing, just thinking about how lucky I am and how much I love you.” “I love you too, but you can’t just kiss me like that,” Jo’s brows furrowed as she took in Alex’s serious expression. “The kids are watching! What are they gonna think when they see you kissing Santa like that? I’ll get a bunch of angry letters.” “You’re the worst, Karev.”

#alex karev #jo karev #jo wilson #jolex fic #jolex fanfic #jo x alex #jolex #greys anatomy #greys anatomy fanfic #christmas #TDBT #nina writes

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themechaneer · 3 years

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Hey all, I just wanted to say again how very much I appreciate you all for being so patient with me ; ;. I have a number of drafts to reply to and a handful of inbox things both for hc prompts & rp things alike, as well as amazing partners waiting for me to plot out something with them for a starter interaction. I’m lucky I know. I don’t think I could ask to have better friends or writing partners on this site. I need you all to know that my slowness is NOT for lack of enthusiasm or excitement over things regardless if they’ve been plotted out or not. I don’t follow for follow. If I follow you it’s cause I’m interested in knowing your muse and with writing with you, I promise that.

And I’ve very much been agonizing over how much I want to reply to literally all the things both ooc and ic. The problem the last few weeks has literally been my work schedule. They’ve got me working 4 day shifts rn while I train someone to take over my late co-workers place so I can go back to my old schedule and it’s been rough to say the least. This wekk they’ve actually got me doing a 5.5 day shift and ahaaaa (I’m dying). And the thing is I feel like every night I get on my laptop to try and knock out drafts only to find I have no energy and all I’m really good for is dash stuff or shorter things in people’s inboxes via prompts or one off asks. I am deeply sorry for this and I feel guilty as hell making everyone wait for more substancial writing from me even though I know none of you mind and I shouldnt fret.

I just----- I hope you all know how much it means to me that you are all willing to wait and don’t mind and how supportive each of you are in your way. How supportive you are not only of me generally but how much you love Joel, and appreciate what little things I can do rn as an rp partner even though I feel it’s the bare minimum and you all deserve better from rp partners. Each of you is such a blessing to me and while things are rough rn if all goes well I should have a break coming up soon where I’ll finally have the time and energy to myself to actually write anf hopefully catch up on things. Till then, thank you all so much for baring with me. You’re all amazing and I love you.

#‟ I am but a sensitive pillar of salt ” || ooc #; ; <3 #don't mind me im just--- soft thinking about how good I got it knowing all of you and #cant believe how damn lucky I got to meet each of you and have you all like Joel/my writing enough to stick around like you do even though #I take ages to reply to anything substancial #ya'll are aces and ilu

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dreamcatcherfication · 4 years

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We’re Lost and Delirious and Can’t Be Found - Part 1

I’m genuinely concerned @katherinehxward hacked into my google drive and read my murder mystery au before requesting this, haha. But I still loved the prompt, and I’m happy to write this! I’m dividing this request into two parts because the plot I wrote doesn’t really fit in one long fic.

Hello (almost forgot that part)! This fic was requested by @katherinehxward who had a very specific request you can read here. I’m happy to deliver, and thus this fic was born! I don’t have much more to say other than I hope you enjoy! Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, I’m a sleep deprived cracker.

Writing Masterpost

If you want to send a request or a prompt, my inbox is always open! I publish a story at 8:00 AM PST everyday, so I’m always in need of new ideas. If you want to be tagged in my works, just let me know and I’ll be sure to tag you!

Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Original Prompts

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of murder, panic attacks, suffocation

Of all the queens to make bad decisions, Anne was notorious for doing so. Usually it was Kat she dragged into her shenanigans, but this time it was Cathy who she had roped into her adventures. It was innocent enough, so Cathy didn’t question Anne’s sudden interest in checking out their neighbor’s garage sale. There wasn’t even anything interesting, besides the occasional old plate with a strange stain on the side.

Despite Cathy’s disinterest, Anne kept picking up and inspecting new items. For someone who tended to be so reckless, Anne was being extremely delicate with the antiques of the garage. “Cathy! Look at this,” she called, waving Cathy over to one of the corners. Anne was staring directly at an old answering machine, one so old that even the queen herself had trouble figuring out how it would work.

Unimpressed, Cathy raised an eyebrow. “It’s an answering machine.”

Anne still had an excited grin on her face. “Exactly!”

“So…?” Cathy trailed off, unsure of Anne’s intentions.

Picking up the dusty machine, Anne presented it like a prize. “Do you know how cool it would be to have one of these?” She spoke in an old, mocking voice, “Ah yes, and we Tudors love all things old fashioned, here is our most modern technology,” she gestured to the machine and broke out into giggles. “Come on, it’ll be funny!” she pleaded with Cathy.

Rolling her eyes, Cathy couldn’t help but agree. “It’s an incedibly stupid joke -”

“It’s still funny though.”

Cathy relented and pulled out her wallet. “This is the only thing we’re buying. We’re not covering the entire house with antiques.”

Eagerly, Anne nodded. “You got yourself a deal.”

With that, Cathy went to the woman in charge of the sale and started pulling out her money. “How much is it for the answering machine?” she asked, pointing to the device in Anne’s hands.

The elderly woman’s eyes went dark as she stared at the machine. “No one ever wants to buy that. It’s been collecting dust for too many years. If you’ll take it off my hands, you can have it for free.”

“Done!” Anne agreed before Cathy could contemplate the strange actions of the old woman. Already dragging Cathy out of the garage and back to their house, Anne was jumping on the balls of her feet. “We got this thing for free Cathy! That’s one helluva deal.”

A nagging tugged at Cathy’s stomach, making her feel sick, but she ignored it. There was nothing to be worried about, so she didn’t waste her energy trying to figure it out. “Yeah. We should go through it later, see if there are any old messages.”

“Ooh, spooky. Maybe we’ll hear the secret love confessions of the old owner,” Anne theorized.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

It was sometime around midnight when Anne crept into Cathy’s room, the answering machine securely in her hands. She had been waiting all day to go through the messages with Cathy, and it was finally dark enough to set the proper mood. She knocked on Cathy’s door, the only one with light still peeking out beneath it, and presented the machine when Cathy opened the door. “It’s time,” Anne smirked, pushing her way into the room, setting the answering machine down on Cathy’s desk.

Sighing, Cathy closed her door behind Anne and walked over to the answering machine. “You don’t even know if it will work.”

“Of course it’ll work,” Anne gasped. “It may be old, but it’s not broken.” On that cue, the handle of the machine broke off and clattered to the floor. “That doesn’t count,” Anne defended her statement, glancing at the broken piece on the floor.

Cathy ignored the blunder and sat down at her desk, playing with the machine. She had checked the Internet earlier on how to replay some of the old messages, so it didn’t take long for voices to start playing. Anne leaned in next to Cathy as she waited for something interesting to be said. The voice on the line was a husky male voice who slurred his syllables together more often than he had a consistent accent. “Martha, I told you to stop calling me when the kids aren’t at school. They like picking up the phone, and sooner or later I’m going to have to explain to them why you can’t come over anymore.”

Anne and Cathy shared a look before playing the next message. “Goddammit Martha, you’ve got to stop calling. I get that you’re lonely and all that, but don’t bother me anymore.”

“This is the last straw, I’m telling you Martha.”

“Rich.” This time the man’s voice was stronger. He was confident in his words, each sound carefully practiced. “I buried the body. Now you have to come through on your end of the bargain.” And then the machine clicked off, all messages done playing.

Unable to take their eyes off the machine, Anne and Cathy were both stuck in varying degrees of horror. Anne didn’t expect the answering machine to actually have anything interesting to say, but right in front of them, it had just played something about, “A body,” Cathy murmured, her eyes wide and unblinking. “Did we just listen to someone admitting to burying a body?!”

“I think we did,” Anne replied, shock still in her system. And then she burst out, “We have to call the police or something -”

“Woah woah woah,” Cathy cut her off. “First off, we don’t know who died. We don’t even know who sent the message. We don’t know where the body is buried, and we don’t know how old this message is. For all we know, this guy could be dead, or in prison. This machine has to be - what - at least fifty years old? We aren’t going to find anything.”

Standing and throwing her hands up, Anne huffed, “So we aren’t going to do anything?”

“Anne, there’s nothing we can do,” Cathy spoke reluctantly. Her eyes were trained on the ground, burning a hole into her carpet.

Marching to Cathy’s door, Anne pulled it open and spit, “Well this was a waste of time.” She slammed the door behind her, going back to her own room.

Cathy knew Anne wasn’t actually mad at her, but it still stung to have her friend yelling at her. There was so much Cathy wished she could do. She wanted to find the murderer, figure out who died and where they were buried. But the fact of the matter was all they had was a vague message from an antique answering machine. Who knew if it was even real?

“Hello?” Anne broke the silence around her. Slowly spinning in circles, she glanced up and down trying to find anyone else. “Is anyone there?” she called again. The only thing surrounding her was infinite blackness, the crushing weight of nothing holding her in place. She couldn’t move, could hardly breathe and couldn’t see. Everything was black.

It was stifling, the way the black suffocated her throat after each breath Anne took. She inhaled and only choked more on the inkinesss around her. “Anyone,” Anne begged, when the darkness started to press on her chest. She wasn’t having a panic attack - she knew what those felt like - but it was an eerily similar feeling. The tightness of her chest, the inability to breathe, the fading of the world.

“What’s going on?” Anne kept asking for answers she wouldn’t receive. “Please, let me go!” The blackness only got tighter and tighter. A tear slid down Anne’s cheek as she blinked rapidly, trying desperately to keep it from falling.

Momentarily broken from the bonds holding her in place, Anne lifted her hand to her face. A sob came from deep in her chest when she couldn’t even see her hand through the darkness. All the light was gone. Anne couldn’t even see her body to prove that she was still there. A deep, existential pit took root in Anne’s mind. If she couldn’t see her body, was she really here? Or was she just another part of the endless blackness. Was this death? Anne couldn’t remember her first death, but if she couldn’t manage this for the short time she had been here, (how long had she been in the dark?) how had she made it through five hundred years?

A frantic shaking started to jerk Anne around, pulling her back and forth. She screamed in pain as she was forcefully ripped from the black and back into reality.

“Anne!” Cathy shook the beheaded queen, trying to get her to wake up. She needed to talk to her, but Anne was stuck in sleep. She kept shaking and calling for her friend before Anne practically flew out of her bed, tackling Cathy to the floor.

When her eyes dilated back to normal, Anne scrambled away from Cathy. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, rubbing her head. “I just…” her voice trailed off, unable to explain what had happened.

“Did you have the same dream I did?” Cathy asked, her voice trembling.

In a split second, Anne’s head snapped towards Cathy. “You had it too?”

“With the…”

“Blackness?” Anne finished for her.

Nodding, Cathy looked down at her hands. “Yeah, that one.”

The two sat in silence for a moment as their breathing evened out. “I think I know why this happened,” Anne piped up, her voice small and fragile.

“Why?”

“We both dismissed that answering machine, and whatever that guy meant by ‘burying the body’. Maybe it’s guilt trying to tell us we can’t let this go.” The more she spoke, the more convinced Anne became of her theory. “We have to try and find that body.”

Cathy was not convinced in the least. “No, Anne, we shouldn’t. It was a weird dream we both shared, but that doesn’t mean we should go looking for a body. Not to mention we have no idea where to look.”

Anne stood up robotically and made her way to her door, wide open from Cathy’s entrance earlier. “The answering machine will lead us there. Trust me.”

Fumbling her words, Cathy groaned and followed Anne. “How is an answering machine supposed to lead you to a dead body? Anne, this is crazy.”

Ignoring Cathy, Anne moved through the halls until she was in Cathy’s room where the answering machine was still perched on her desk. “It might be crazy,” she shrugged, “But you’re the one who keeps me from doing anything too stupid. So are you going to let me do this alone or what?”

Grunting in frustration, Cathy shook her head. “Of course I’m not going to let you do this alone. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it. Let’s try not to get too deep into an old murder plot, okay?’’

Winking, Anne picked up the machine. “Can’t promise anything.”

It was cold out, the winter frost biting at Cathy’s exposed nose. She had been smart enough to bring coats and scarves, knowing that Anne would forgo those in her need to find a body. “‘Do you have any idea where you’re going?” she asked when Anne made yet another sharp turn across the street. The two of them had also neglected to use a car for fear that the rumbling of the engine would wake one of the other queens.

“Nope,” Anne replied confidently, “but the answering machine does.”

Sighing heavily, Cathy simply gave up. “Okay, fine. I trust the magical answering machine.”

“You have to really trust it for this to work,” Anne urged, grabbing Cathy’s hand. She put it on the answering machine and watched her hopefully. Despite the cold surrounding them, the answering machine was warm, it’s circuitry practically humming with life beneath Cathy’s fingertips. The warmth ran through her fingers and up her body, leaving behind a pleasant tingling sensation.

Shrugging, Cathy whispered, “It does feel kinda nice.”

“If you trust it, then we’ll find what we’re looking for.”

All the skepticism in Cathy’s brain turned off as she nodded. “I trust the machine. It’ll lead us to what we’re looking for.” She and Anne shared a grin and followed the answering machine further from the queens’ house.

The lights around them slowly faded as they came across a wooden gate with the words DO NOT ENTER! carved into the side. Bypassing the warning, Cathy and Anne hopped the fence and made their way onto the grounds. There was a menacing house at the end of a cobblestone walkway, but they didn’t walk towards it. Instead, the answering machine told them to go around the house to the under kept backyard.

When they made it to the backyard, Cathy and Anne froze. The answering machine fell from Anne’s hands onto the ground with a soft thunk as the two girls were brought back to reality. “Is that...?”

“I think it is,” Cathy responded, her breaths coming out as shivers.

Because right there in front of them was a body-sized mound of dirt with two shovels laying on top.

------------------------------------------

Tag List:

@radcowboyalmondtree@boleynhowards@annabanana2401@babeebobo@dont-lose-your-queerhead@everything-insanity@mindless-pidgeon@i-wanna-dance-and-sing-six@thedemidisaster@its-totes-gods-will

#six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fic #six fanfiction #six fanfic #sixfic #anne boleyn #catherine parr #request #this is a mess #i hope it makes sense for any of you #because oh boy was this strange #the title is from the song #alone now by preston max allen #it absolutely slaps #and i've been listening to it on repeat #i don't know when part two will come out #because i have a ton of requests waiting to be written #*incoherent screaming*

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wosoimagines · 5 years

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Roller Coasters and Popsicles

So, I’m back. This is the first story I’m going to be posting today. Keep sending me requests. I’m getting all of them and I’m working on them. I’ve got most of the ones that are in my inbox jotted down into my notebook. You guys can send me ones for certain players too. I get a lot of requests for baby R on the USWNT, and I love those, but I don’t want you guys to feel like that’s all I write.

prompt: I love your writing my dude!! If you don’t mind could you write one where Reader is the youngest on the USWNT and also the smartest and goes to Harvard. She’s always ranting about random stuff to the team and one day after a hard practice she’s ranting about something random. But someone snaps at her and so she never does it again. Flash forward and everyone notices she doesn’t talk as much and they all feel bad cuz they were just tired and didn’t mean to make their baby feel bad.

warnings: Swearing.

words: 1879

(Y/N) POV

It was weird being for me to actually be preparing for the World Cup. I had been with the national team since I was 17, but it was still hard for me to grasp now that I was an 18-year-old soon-to-be 19-year-old. The team was really easy to get along with for the most part. I was sure that it was mainly because the team saw me as the baby and they just loved being overprotective.

With a family as big, weird, and dysfunctional as we were, it wasn’t too surprising to me that they loved to be overprotective. The whole team could be that way with all of the younger players. Because of that, I always had to remind them that I didn’t want them to go easy on me.

“Come on, Sonnett. You haven’t been able to stop me all day,” I ran past the defender after getting another ball into the goal. I was aware that it wouldn’t be this easy to get a goal at the World Cup.

Sonnett grumbled as we both ran to get set up again. Jill had us scrimmaging today and I wanted to take advantage of going up against the women who made up the best team in the world. Especially since I was the only one on the team that was in college. It was why I had to give every practice everything I had, and I couldn’t allow the others to go easy on me.

Practice never got harder when I went against Sonnett and it didn’t completely surprise me when she had to stay back and talk with Jill. I waited around for her since we normally sat together on the bus. When Sonnett got out of the shower, I joined her side as we were the last two heading to the bus.

“You should get a popsicle,” I said causing Sonnett to look at me. “I eat popsicles all the time after I have a rough practice or game. Always helps me. I guess that’s why I keep eating them.”

“I don’t want a popsicle, (Y/N),” Sonnett said. I slowly nodded and I didn’t blame her. I only had popsicles after I had rough games or practices because it was something my Dad had started to do with me.

“Did you know that popsicles were created by complete accident?” I asked as I knew my eyes had to light up like they always did when I got to tell anyone about the facts that I knew. “A boy named Frank Epperson created the first one on accident in 1905 when-”

“I don’t care about your stupid facts, (Y/N)!” Sonnett cut me off as I looked at her. “I don’t care that you know everything that you do, (Y/N)! I don’t care that you go to Havard! And I don’t care that you’re the smartest one here! If I wanted to know the fucking history behind popsicles, I would have asked Siri instead of you. At least she isn’t as annoying.”

I ducked my head down as I refused to let her see the tears that the harsh words were brought to my eyes. Sonnett stalked on ahead of me as I wiped at my eyes before pulling my headphones out. I pulled them on so that the others on the bus wouldn’t talk to me on our way back to the hotel. Sonnett climbed onto the bus before I did and I saw her sitting by Lindsey, so I slid into a seat by myself upfront.

I was the first one off of the bus when we pulled up to the hotel. I kept my head down as I headed into the hotel with my headphones still on. I just wanted to get to my room to take a nap before we went out for team dinner.

Tierna POV

I sat next to (Y/N) throughout dinner, but it seemed like I was the only one who she would talk to. She stayed pretty quiet throughout dinner. The most surprising was that we hadn’t gotten any of her weird facts that we normally heard from her.

“You ok?” I nudged (Y/N). She looked at me a little confused but nodded. “Haven’t heard any facts from you tonight.”

“Guess I’ve just run out,” (Y/N) shrugged. I furrowed my own brow in confusion as (Y/N) turned back to listen to what Pinoe was saying. I couldn’t help through the rest of the night as I paid a bit more attention to (Y/N). She wasn’t even talking a lot much less telling anyone her little weird facts we had started to know her by.

I stuck close to the younger college player when we headed back to the hotel. I noticed that she was also hesitant to hang out with the rest of us. She did drift closer to Tobin and even A.D. throughout the night. It wasn’t entirely surprising since (Y/N) was closer with the Thorns players on the team since she grew up in Portland so she was in Portland all the time when she wasn’t at Harvard. It was a little surprising, however, that (Y/N) avoided Sonnett and, by extension, Lindsey.

Eventually, Alex forced (Y/N) to head to bed. Alex turned to have me make sure that (Y/N) got to bed since we were sharing a room this camp. I had assured her that (Y/N) would get to bed before 1:00 am. (Y/N) didn’t even seem like fighting the bedtime that Alex had set for her. (Y/N) just seemed off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Has anyone else noticed the change in (Y/N)?” I asked as I sat down at the large table to eat breakfast. It was our day off and (Y/N) had decided to sleep in today so, I was leaving our room when she was getting up. It was the best time to bring up the unusual behavior from (Y/N) last night. Everyone turned their attention to me.

“What are you talking about?” Kelley asked. I was a little surprised that Kelley and Alex hadn’t noticed the change in (Y/N). The two of them had named themselves as (Y/N)’s moms on the team.

“She didn’t talk a lot last night,” A.D. pointed out.

“So, (Y/N) didn’t talk last night, that’s not unusual,” Crystal said. I rolled my eyes because it seemed that no one else had noticed the change in (Y/N).

“I didn’t hear a fact out of her any last night after dinner,” Tobin said.

“She didn’t say any during dinner either,” I added to draw the attention back to me. “When I asked her about it, she said that she had run out of facts.”

“(Y/N) ran out of facts to tell us?” Kelley asked causing me to nod my head. “Impossible. She’s like the encyclopedia of weird facts.” Alex put a hand on Kelley’s shoulder so that Kelley would lower her voice.

“So what happened?” Alex asked. Sonnett winced when that question was asked, and I wasn’t the only one to notice.

“What did you do?” Kelley turned to Sonnett. It was a little weird to see Kelley trying to get to Sonnett. She would have if Alex wasn’t holding her back. We were all looking at Sonnett. But Sonnett seemed like if she wasn’t sure if she would tell us what had happened or not. “What did you do, Emily?”

“I didn’t mean to. It just happened,” Sonnett defended. Alex let go of Kelley so that the older defender could get into Sonnett’s face.

“What did you do?” Kelley’s voice dropped and we could hear the anger in Kelley’s voice.

“I had a bad day yesterday and I took it out on (Y/N),” Sonnett said. Most of us were throwing glares at Sonnett. Kelley opened her mouth to probably ask Sonnett what exactly had happened, but she didn’t need to. “I couldn’t stop her yesterday at practice and afterward she told me that I should get a popsicle before trying to tell me how popsicles were created.”

“What did you say?” Alex asked with a glare pointed at Sonnett. It was obvious how much Kelley and Alex cared about (Y/N).

“I told her that I didn’t care about her facts or that she went to Harvard,” Sonnett ducked her head down. Some of the others launched their food at the defender in question.

“You’re a dumbass,” Ash called out. Ali slapped Ash’s shoulder but kept a glare pointed at Sonnett.

“You can’t just fucking tell someone that, Emily,” Pinoe added. The others were nodding in agreement. Some that were closer to Sonnett, made a point to hit the defender.

“You’re going to fix this,” Kelley hissed. Sonnett looked up at the older defender. “I don’t care how, but (Y/N) better be her normal self by dinner.”

(Y/N) POV

Today had been a little weird as most everyone on the team had come through to spend some time in mine and Tierna’s room until the past hour. There was a knock on the door and I was going to ignore it, but whoever it was wouldn’t stop.

“I’m coming,” I called out as I rolled out of my bed. I opened the door without looking through the peephole, and I tried to shut the door when I saw who was on the other side. Sonnett stopped me from shutting the door.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” Sonnett immediately said. I was still trying to shut the door as she was pushing to keep it open. “I brought you some popsicles since you probably had a bad day after what I said.”

I stopped pushing the door and leaned my head against the door. I groaned but I held my hand out for the popsicles. Sonnett put the box in my hands and I looked at it. Sonnett stayed outside the door. I pulled the door open some more so that Sonnett would come in.

“I shouldn’t have said what I did yesterday,” Sonnett started. “Your facts are stupid and I do care about hearing them. I do care that you go to Harvard. You’re probably the smartest person on this team, you know.”

“Why did you say those things?”

“I had a rough day yesterday. You were just easy to take it out on,” Sonnett looked away from me. I couldn’t help but think that I was the cause of that as well, though. I shut the door as I turned and got back into my bed. I opened the box of popsicles and held one out to Sonnett. Sonnett took the popsicle before joining me on the bed. I smiled before picking out my own popsicle.

“Tell me something.”

“You know how roller coasters were created?” I didn’t have to wait for Sonnett’s shake of her head because I knew that she didn’t. “They were invented to distract Americans from sin.”

Sonnett shook her head in disbelief. I smiled because she seemed like she really wanted to know about the fact. I couldn’t help but tell her about the history of roller coasters before going back and finishing the history of popsicles as we ate through the box of popsicles.

#uswnt #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader

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pointy-hat-witch · 3 years

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Title: Are you going up or down? Series: Leap of Faith Show: Haikyuu!! Pairing: Daichi/Sugawara Summary: Office AU in which Daichi and Suga after getting stuck in an elevator late after work become friends and other shenanigans :D A/N: the first part made me fall in love with the setting and I had to follow up on that! Hope you enjoy it!

You can read Chapter 3 on AO3 if you want to! :)

When Suga walked in the open office area as the first one at around 6:30 in the morning, he was in a good mood. It was strange, since it was Monday, and he was excited to be at work. Maybe, probably, because of the prospect to interact with Daichi, at least via email.

Suga had made a decision that weekend. Daichi and he were friends, not really close yet but Suga wanted to work on that and if something between them will unfold, then he won’t be against it. But it didn’t have to. He was content for now.

He had turned on the light in the office and when he pushed his suitcase under his table, he turned on his small desk lamp as well. With a short glace over the desks, his eyes found the small slit beneath Oikawa’s door illuminated. He huffed in annoyance. His feet flew determinedly over the floor as he walked over and opened the door without knocking.

“Oikawa-senpai.” His trademark angelic smile was plastered on his lips. Oikawa didn’t even flinch before looking up, nose scrunched up and lips in a scowl.

“Suga-chan.” His voice was raspy as if he hadn’t slept at all. He probably didn’t. Suga sighed as he leaned against the door frame, arms folding loosely before his chest.

“You really need to go home and get a good amount of sleep, you know?” Suga couldn’t help but hear his own voice waver in concern. He had seen Oikawa work himself to the ground already and he was on his way to that point again. But Suga made it his mission to prevent exactly that. He really ought to keep a better eye on Oikawa.

“I slept”, came the short answer from Oikawa as he rolled his eyes once before they were fixed on his monitor again.

Suga pressed his lips together, exhaling slowly through his nose. His eyes scanned Oikawa’s office and saw a folded blanket on the small couch. Figured. He walked over to the desk, grabbed the empty coffee mug and walk outside again silently. He filled a glass with water, brought it back to Oikawa and tapped his knuckles against Oikawa’s forehead.

“You know I’m still here, right? If you have so much to do, give something to me as well. I still have some spare time.” He knew that Oikawa would still refuse to hand over some of his workload, but Suga was not about to back down. And if he had to pry some of Oikawa’s assignments from his cold, dead (or sleeping) hands.

Oikawa hummed non-committedly but at least took the glass, emptying it halfway. It was a small victory, Suga took it.

The rest of the morning until lunch was straight out of a horror movie. Each and every inbox was filled with new assignments that came in over the weekend, Suga and Yachi had their hands full to skim through them, assigning different jobs to their co-workers, informing new and old clients about current developments, and have their usual Monday meeting to discuss the tasks for the coming week.

It was already 2 p.m. when Suga finally had time to breath and his stomach was calling for his attention. Thankfully, past-Suga prepared some hearty lunch beforehand, acutely aware of the Monday rush. Suga pulled his old suitcase from under the desk, noticing that he probably needed a new one. It was already pretty worn, skid marks on every side, and the color fading in a more grayish tone. He sighed.

Grabbing his lunch box, he was about to walk over to their small kitchen/break room to warm up his lunch in the microwave, when the door to their office was opened and his eyes found Daichi’s eyes almost naturally.

A smile was on his lips before he could even think about it. “Daichi!”

Daichi mirrored his smile and strolled over to him. “Hello, Suga.” He lifted one hand in which he held a plastic bag with two food containers.

“I wasn’t sure, you didn’t reply, but are you up for lunch?” Daichi scratched the back of his head, a sheepish smile on his lips. It was adorable.

Suga blinked and leaned over to his monitor, opening his email program with a single click and scrolled through his emails. And there it was, an email from Daichi, left unread, with the subject “Lunch?”

“Oh my god!” Suga exclaimed and stood up straight. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t even see it.” He dropped his own lunchbox back on his desk. Take-out sounded so much better than his homemade food, he could still eat it for dinner anyway. “But, yeah, I’d love to.”

“Great! If not, I’d had too much food.” Daichi chuckled a little embarrassed. Suga shook his head.

“Don’t worry, I think you’d find someone who would help you with that.” Unsure of where to go, Suga stood a little awkward in front of his desk until Daichi motioned him with a short nod to follow him. Daichi lead them to the staircase and Suga thought for a second, they would actually eat on the stairs.

Daichi must have seen the look in his eyes and huffed out a laugh. “Do you know about the small roof where people smoke?” Suga blinked and nodded slightly.

“Yeah. But I don’t know …” he trailed off. Lunch between cigarettes was something he, in fact, didn’t need to experience. Apparently, his expression showed exactly what he was thinking, since Daichi laughed again, this time a notch more. He patted Suga on the back before his hand slid down to the small of his back, lingering for just a second before he went downstairs.

“There is a similar roof at the 21st floor but, I don’t know”, Daichi took a look over the shoulder to Suga who followed him, “it seems no one knows about it.” He finished a lot more quietly. Suga’s skin prickled. Not only on the small of his back where he still felt Daichi’s large hand, but also his cheeks and his hands and his ears.

“How come you know about it then?”, he asked, pushing the tingling feeling to the back of his mind.

“Well”, Daichi chuckled, “I kind of grew up in this building. I probably know every corner of this building.” They reached the 21st floor and instead of walking through the door to the hallway, Daichi lead Suga towards the fire exit.

Suga cocked his head but followed without question. Daichi pushed the door open, holding it for Suga, and he stepped through. It was just a small patch of roof, actually barely enough space for 3 people but completely open space. A metal railing closed off the edge of their small space and to their left, a ladder went down. They were faced directly by the sun, absolutely no shadow and Suga relished in the warmth.

“How did no one ever find this place? It’s incredible!” Suga hummed. He took two steps towards the railing and looked down. It was steep. And a long way down. For a moment he got dizzy and had to grab onto the railing a little tighter. He turned around to Daichi, leaning against the railing but still holding on to it with both hands.

Daichi was smiling at him warmly and just shrugged. “No idea. Maybe they actually follow the rules and don’t use the fire exit to smoke, for once.”

“Well, I don’t think anyone has a reason to use this fire exit.” Suga took another glance over the railing, following the ladder this time. It went down for about ten floors and ended on another small roof, but more spaced out than this one.

“Better for us.” Daichi grinned and held up the plastic bag. Suga beamed at him. They sat down with their backs against the railing, letting the sun warming them up. Daichi grabbed one of the food containers and handed it to Suga who eagerly took it. It was a small miracle his stomach wasn’t already growling out loud.

Suga opened the container and let out the tiniest gasp. “Daichi”, he whispered in awe. Alarmed, Daichi looked up and bit his lower lip.

“Not good? I wasn’t sure what you liked, just that it had to be spicy as-” “It’s perfect”, Suga interrupted Daichi’s ramble. He took in the brownish glistening tofu pieces sogging in the deep red sauce. “It’s my favorite, actually.”

Daichi let out a relieved hum. “Good.” Suga nudged his shoulder ever so lightly. For a few minutes they ate in silence, Suga relishing in the almost unbearable heat that pulsed over his tongue, in his mouth and down his throat.

“How was work this morning?” Daichi broke their comfortable silence. Suga made a face.

“It’s Monday, Daichi. What do you think?” He chuckled dryly but then shrugged. “The usual. Getting yelled at for being too slow by clients, discussing designs over and over again until we decide on the first draft yet again, making sure Oikawa doesn’t drop dead because of all the work and “incompetence” “, Suga did quotation marks in the air, “we showed today.”

Daichi arched an eyebrow. “That’s what he said?”

“Well, yeah”, Suga shrugged again, taking another spoonful and talked with his hand held in front of his mouth, “it’s not personal, we know that by now, but, well. It was pretty hectic today and we had a slow start and I think Oikawa didn’t leave the office over the weekend and he gets more stressed by the second.” Suga looked unfocused towards the door. It was conspicuously and everybody knew. But they couldn’t do more than to try their hardest to get some work off his shoulders. But they can do only so much.

“Sounds rough.” Daichi agreed and chewed on his bread roll that came along with his curry. Suga nodded.

“But don’t worry, I’ll get that fixed.”

“You?”

“What? Am I not reliable?” Suga turned to Daichi in mocked offence. “I’ll let you know, my peers and co-workers are well aware of my strength and unwavering stubbornness.”

“I’m sure, they are.” Daichi chuckled. “Don’t go breaking your pretty head with all your stubbornness.”

Suga felt his ears heat up and that was not because of the spice of his food. “Well, my pretty”, he purred, “head can take a lot of stubbornness before it breaks. Especially when it comes to Oikawa. That man is a disaster.”

“Aren’t we all?” Because Suga had turned back to his food as he spoke, he missed the slight blush on Daichi’s cheeks.

“Well, not me. I have my life together. Working almost 12 hours every day doesn’t leave much room for doing stupid stuff.” Suga coughed and jerked his head around it almost gave him whiplash. “N-not that I criticize your company or anything. Lately, it’s just a bit more-”

“Everything?” Daichi provided and hummed. He leaned his head against the railing, tapping his finger against his food container. “Don’t worry”, he said almost only as an afterthought, “you didn’t say anything wrong. And for the record”, he turned his head back to Suga who eyed him still a little warily, “I want you to be honest with me.”

Suga huffed out a small breath before forming another smile. “You bet I am, your highness.”

Daichi laughed. “Where did that come from?” Suga grinned at him.

“When your father is reigning this company with an iron fist as a king, it makes you the crown prince.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “I just want to be on your good side when you’re finally overthrowing your father.” Suga laughed and scrapped the last of his mapo tofu on his spoon.

“I hope you’re ready for an awful lot to stay on that side.” He raised his eyebrows and gave Suga an arrogant glance.

“Everything you ask me to do, my prince.” Suga mockingly bowed his head but couldn’t stifle the laugh that bubbled up. Daichi followed suit and within seconds they were laughing loudly, slightly hunched over, and invading each other’s spaces. Suga wiped a happy tear away and patted Daichi’s shoulder.

“We have to work on that.”

“What do you mean, ‘we’? Obviously, it’s you who has to work on taking me seriously.” Daichi tried to say deadpanned but he rather scoffed through the last tremors of his laugh.

“You tell yourself that.” Suga shook his head and sighed, finally leaning back. He tried not to think too much of Daichi's intense aftershave scent. Or the way, he could take a peek at Daichi’s collarbone since Daichi decided to not wear his tie and had the first two buttons undone, again. He evened out his breathing, trying to play with his plastic spoon as inconspicuously as possible.

“So”, he dragged out the ‘o’, “still have that spot on 4 p.m. on Wednesday open?”

Daichi blinked at him, mouth opening in confusion but then remembered his remark a while ago. He closed his mouth again, humming quietly. “Depends.” He settled on.

“On what?” Suga squinted his eyes and chanced a look at Daichi.

“Well”, Daichi made a vague gesture, “as you stated, I have a kingdom to overthrow, what business do you have to ask for my precious time?”

Suga pursed his lips and had to turn away to keep his composure. He turned back to Daichi, holding his stare with a straight face. “It is my duty to keep your well-being as high priority and, therefore, ask for your time to accompany me to an early cherry blossom viewing to keep your mind relaxed.”

Even though Suga kept his eyes locked with Daichi’s, he still saw the blush creeping on Daichi’s cheeks, and he found it utterly adorable.

“Sounds good.” Daichi blurted as his eyes widen just a fraction.

“So, it is reason enough?”

“Y-yeah.” Daichi finally averted his eyes, fumbling with his food container, putting it back into the plastic back. “Well, should I send you an e-mail to confirm our appointment?”

“Appointment.” Suga snorted but grinned, nonetheless. “Yes, please confirm my reservation.”

Daichi made a face at him even though his lips were stretched into a wide smile.

Their lunch break was over way too soon, hoewever, they felt refreshed and ready for the rest of the day. They both stepped back into the building, Suga following Daichi into the elevator even though it was only one floor. It meant just a few more seconds with Daichi. They said their goodbyes, Suga stepping out of the elevator and waited until the doors slid close again. He let out a sigh, fighting down the smile that threatened to split his face.

“Had a nice lunch?”

Suga’s head jerked up, meeting the eyes of the receptionist who nonchalantly sorted through some documents. Feeling his cheeks warm up, Suga cleared his throat.

“Uh, yeah. And you?”

“Nothing out of the usual.” Looking up through their down casted eyes, Suga could see the hint of a smug smile, making his face flare up even more.

“Well, uh, gotta go back to work.” Suga huffed, turning around on his heel and walking back into the office, feeling their eyes on his back.

-----

Tuesday

From: [email protected] To: [email protected]

Subject: A-J. Meeting ＼(º □ º l|l)/

Hey Daichi!

Just wanted to let you know that I’m heading over to A-J. right now! If I need anything, I’ll let you know. (And expect you to come flying to my rescue as you promised)

Yours, Suga

From: [email protected] To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: A-J. Meeting ＼(º □ º l|l)/

Hello Suga,

Thank you for informing me. I’ll check my emails regularly and keep an eye out for your possible distress signal.

Good luck.

Regards, Daichi

Suga exhaled deeply after closing his email app in the cab he took to get to A-J.’s. He didn’t know what to expect at all. They still held on to their offer and Suga could only imagine how often he’ll have to turn them down today, just to get some work done. Though he expected some kind of professionalism of them, you never know, better be mentally prepared.

The cab turned into a parking spot right in front of their studio to drop Suga off who was a little awestruck when he stood in front of the building. J-Marketing was by no means not as impressive, but it was something else if it was not the building you were working in.

With another nod to himself, Suga finally mustered up the courage to walk up the outer stairs to the entrance, falling in line with all the other people that came in and out of it. Patiently Suga waited for his turn at the reception to introduce himself and his upcoming meeting with Kunimi.

The receptionist made a short phone call and told him that Kunimi will be here shortly, and he can sit down in the waiting area, e.g. an open space with the most expensive looking chairs he had ever seen. They weren’t really comfortable.

Suga was just adjusting his shirt and blazer when Kunimi came around the reception area to greet him.

“Sugawara-san, it’s a pleasure to finally meet in person. I’m sorry for the wait.” He extended his hand as he approached and Suga couldn’t help but notice the deep bags under his eyes despite his attempt to cover them with make-up.

“I would hardly call that a wait, don’t worry, Kunimi-san. And likewise, thank you for having me. And please”, Suga shook his hand, “call me Suga, Sugawara sounds too formal.”

“As you wish, Suga-san.” Kunimi nodded and led him through the gates into the staff area and they rode the elevator up in silence. It kind of fueled Suga’s anxiety, he kind of hoped for a little bit of small talk to calm down his nerves but he didn’t feel like the one to start the conversation.

When the doors opened on their floor, Kunimi walked up ahead. “We first stop by Iwaizumi-san, our … lead designer”, Suga took up on the short hesitation, “who will supervise this project, to get to know each other. Then you’ll meet the rest of the team and we’ll start the briefing.”

“Sounds good to me.”

The first thing Suga, obviously, noticed when they entered the office area from the hallway that this company worked with the cubicle style work area. It took Suga a lot of self-control not to make a face. If not anything else, cubicles were a valid reason for him not to work for this company.

Kunimi walked up to the back of the room where two single offices were placed and entered one without knocking.

“Iwaizumi-san, I brought Sugawara-san.”

Suga entered and was greeted by a rather small office, where a single desk took up almost all the space and was overflowing with stacks of papers. Iwaizumi with his spiky hair looking up over the paper, put down the phone he was just talking into.

“Sugawara-san, nice to meet you.” His outstretched hand followed his words more like an afterthought and though the handshake was firm it was short. “I’m sorry for the mess. We got a lot of commissions coming in.”

“Oh, I don’t mind. We’re in the same business, remember?” Suga shot him a reassuring smile. He knew all too well how it felt like being swamped by work and having Oikawa waltzing over to give him a disapproving look when he didn’t work through all of them at once.

“Great. Okay, first things first”, Iwaizumi mumbled more to himself as he rounded the desk to step halfway out the door. “Kindaichi!”, he yelled, “come here!”

There was some shuffling to be heard and only seconds later another person, hair even higher spiked up than Iwaizumi’s, walked in. Both the newcomer and Iwaizumi bowed down deeply.

“I want to apologize formerly again for the behavior of my kouhai. Having an outburst and demand you work for us to your employer nonetheless was out of line. Please accept our utmost regret about that incident.”

“I am so sorry!” Kindaichi, Suga assumed, added.

Such a turn of event Suga didn’t expect in the least and was almost overwhelmed. “Please”, he held up his hands, “there is nothing to be sorry about. I feel flattered for someone to be so passionate about my work. I don’t mind. And my boss doesn’t either, for that matter”, Suga added for good measure. Good impressions and all that.

They both straightened back up, Kindaichi with an embarrassed flush on his cheeks and looking mortified. Iwaizumi, on the other hand, didn’t look that miffed and gave Kindaichi a smack on the back of his head.

“Oi, don’t make that face, it’s pathetic.”

“Iwaizumi-san!” His blush only depends as he looked over back to Suga from the corner of his eyes. “Please don’t embarrass me.” He added mumbling.

“It’s what you deserve. Your acting was, like I said, way out of line.”

“Uhhh”, Kindaichi’s gaze went back to the ground, pouting.

Suga’s smile didn’t waver. At first glance it seemed pretty chaotic and hostile, but all three of them radiated a great harmony, with Iwaizumi grounding them all.

“Kunimi probably already told you”, Iwaizumi continued, walking back to his seat, “though Kindaichi wasn’t in any position to make that offer, it was still meant to be brought up. Though more professional. Just keep that in mind.”

“Thank you, Iwaizumi-san, but-“ Iwaizumi held up one hand, interrupting Suga.

“I know, I know. Just keep that in mind is all I ask.”

“I will.” Suga nodded earnestly. And he didn’t lie about being flattered to be asked to work for them, so the least he could do was to give them an earnest answer after he saw them work. He didn’t expect his answer to change, not by a long shot, though.

He was then lead out of the small office, away from the cubicles where Iwaizumi picked some of them to come with them, to a conference room. They all sat down, both Kunimi and Sugawara next to Iwaizumi who remained standing and didn’t even wait for everyone to be seated, before starting. It followed a small round of introduction of their six headed team, including Sugawara. Iwaizumi as the senior lead designer and Kunimi as the project manager. Followed by Yahaba for conception, Kageyama for illustration and Kindaichi for the layout.

Iwaizumi had a simple presentation at the ready to explain their project which was for a billboard in the heart of the city for a new dating app. It will be an eye catcher for everyone in the city center and, therefore, a high paying job with lots of expectations. The billboard should stand out with its color but not be provocative and first and foremost not be distracting for traffic.

They all were given a handout with the most important bullet points this project had to adhere to.

“Is it possible to try out this app?” Suga asked as he skimmed through the list, one hand at his chin as ideas came pouring in.

“Pardon?” Iwaizumi looked over to him.

“The app”, Suga blinked, “can we see it to get an understanding of how it works. Just having the general color palette and knowing in theory what's it about gets us so far.”

“Someone is desperate”, Yahaba chuckled with a smirk on his lips.

“Wha-“ before Suga could say anything, Kunimi had already threw his elbow against Yahaba’s rip cage. Ignoring Yahaba’s violent cough and wheezing, Kunimi nodded toward Suga.

“That would definitely be possible. We were provided a demo version. The final version will be out on the market in three weeks, until then the billboard had to be up.”

“Three weeks?!” Suga already forgot his embarrassment over Yahaba’s remark. “We have three weeks, did I hear that correctly?” His eyes shot over to Iwaizumi who nodded.

“Time is of the essence here.”

Suga leaned against the backrest of the chair, already jutting down the overtime he will have to pull for this project. He won’t have any ground to reprimand Oikawa for staying late in the office, either. They’ll have to take turns to sleep on the couch.

“Alright”, Suga huffed. No need to fret over spilled milk. He’ll get this job done and his client will be more than pleased with the result.

Kunimi send him the file for the app via email and followed the short instruction to get the demo version running. Right when he opened the app, Suga liked the colors and design right away, giving him some hope he’ll be able to come up with something nice. He clicked through the various settings and created a fake account to see what options and features this dating app had. And what it brought to the table in comparison to all the other dating apps that already existed.

It had been a few years when Suga tried out dating apps which he regretted after the first evening with getting a lot of unsolicited dick picks and didn’t use them anymore so he was more than curious how they improved. All the more he was pleasantly surprised to see that when setting up your profile, you could choose between a variety of gender identities and sexuality options, you could even create your own term.

And if that wasn’t enough to convince him of this app, there was beside the usual chatting function the option to get to meet someone at suggested meeting spots depending on similar interests. The user can decide if they want to chat with that person or if they want to arrange a sort of blind date.

“Huh”, Suga pursed his lips. He had a feeling that could be something people would really like to use. At least, he would.

The next two hours they started on assigning roles and tasks and upcoming meetings this week. Suga would still work at J-Marketing most of the times but when he would come over for the meetings he would have a desk at the ready to continue working from here, which he didn’t mind at all. Running back and forth was unnecessary waste of time, anyway.

There was a knock on the door and someone with dark blond hair walked up inside, without much care if he interrupted something or not. He handed Iwaizumi some papers, talked in a hushed voice and was out of the room without as much as a glance at Suga.

Suga didn’t mind at all, it just seemed impolite in his opinion but everyone and every company works with different attitude. So, he tried not to notice the stone-faced expression of everyone around him. It wasn’t his business, anyway.

“That fuckin-“ Kindaichi yelped when someone hit him under the table, shutting him up for good with everyone glaring at him.

Well, if that didn’t kill the mood.

“How about a short break?” Suga suggested, a patient smile radiating warmth through the room. “I could definitely use a coffee, I’m only running on two cups.”

That earned him at least a relieved sigh from Iwaizumi. “Of course. Kunimi, show him the kitchen and get everyone something to eat. I’ll join when I’m”- he held up his papers –“done sorting that out.”

“Sure thing.”

Though the atmosphere wasn’t as tense as a few moments ago, it was still chilly as they walked through the corridor in silence. Suga could hear some animated whispers behind me, probably from Kindaichi but didn’t pay them any mind. Not his business.

When they arrived at the kitchen and Suga had a few minutes for himself while the others went through the different drawers for cups and something to eat, Suga checked his phone and warmth spread inside his chest when he saw an email notification from Daichi.

From: [email protected] To: [email protected]

Subject: Sign of life

Dear Suga,

could you please tell Oikawa that you’re, firstly, still alive and, secondly, still won’t start working for A-J.? He has sent me at least 10 emails and called me a few times (yes, I found the phone) because he wanted to make sure that I told you to come back for sure.

He also said not to tell you.

How are things?

Regards, Daichi

Suga held his hand over his mouth to not snort too loudly. What the fuck? He didn’t know if Oikawa being such a baby or if Daichi being so nonchalant about throwing him under the bus was the better part of this email.

From: [email protected] To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Sign of life

(ノ_<。)ヾ(´ ▽ ` ) you’ll get used to him, just you wait!

They treat me all very nicely! It’s just … different than I expected? I’ll tell you later in detail, but there is nothing to worry about :)

Yours, Suga

From: [email protected] To: [email protected]

Subject: ψ(▼へ▼メ)～→

Mom, don’t embarrass me in front of my boss

I’ll be home late

Don’t worry about me

Love u

Suga

Suga pushed his phone back into his pocket, smile still stretching his lips and he couldn’t fight it down.

“Is ramen okay with you?” Kunimi turned around halfway, holding up a variety of flavors.

“Of course”, Suga scanned the few packages and pointed at the spicy shrimp one, “if that’s not taken?”

Kunimi raised an eyebrow before shaking his head. “Finally someone will eat it. Don’t know who bought this abomina- well, this flavor but no one ever wanted to eat it.”

“Cue me, your saving angel”, Suga chuckled as his phone vibrated for a text message. Suga blinked, it was unusual to receive a text from someone he didn’t blocked while he worked. And to his surprise it was one from Oikawa.

It simply said, “I’ll kill him” and nothing else. Suga burst out a short laugh, stifling it with one hand and turning away from Kunimi.

“Sorry”, he mumbled, trying to compose himself. Sorry, Daichi.

He earned a few glances but no one commented on it, Kunimi just nodding at him.

When everyone had their bowl filled with hot water and waiting for their noodles to get ready, Iwaizumi entered the kitchen as well, giving Suga only a short nod before striding over to Kunimi. They whispered for a few seconds until Kunimi’s eyebrows furrowed and he then left the room.

“Is everything alright?” Suga tilted his head, hands relaxed in his pockets.

Iwaizumi sighed, rubbing his neck. “Yeah, sorry. Today is … a bad day for the start of this project, and for you to see how things are run here. Well, not really”, he muttered at the end, making Suga rising an eyebrow. But before he could inquire further, Kunimi was back in the kitchen.

“I’m sorry, Suga-san, can lunch wait a few minutes? Mizoguchi, our supervisor, would like to meet you.”

Suga wasn’t sure on what to concentrate more. The fact, that the air was completely charged with animosity the next moment or the fact that he thought, Iwaizumi was their supervisor.

“Sure, no problem at all”, he caught himself easily, following Kunimi out in the corridor again. They walked back into the office area with the cubicles and toward the other single office, opposite of Iwaizumi’s. This time Kunimi knocked and waited for an answer, body tense, though his face didn’t show any of it.

“Come in”, a voice said lazily.

Kunimi opened but didn’t enter, motioning Suga to walk up. Suga entered the small office space which was lot tidier than Iwaizumi’s office. Though, almost too tidy, Suga would say. There were no files or folders whatsoever on the desk, only a small cabinet in the back with some but seemed from older cases anyway.

To Suga’s surprise the voice belonged to the blond who more or less interrupted their meeting a little while ago without introducing himself.

“It’s nice to meet you”, Suga bowed slightly, still trying to figure out what was going on here.

“Likewise. Mizoguchi Sadayuki. I’m the supervisor of the A-J. design department. I hope my boys treat you well?” He leaned back into his chair, arms relaxed on the armrests and a well-trained customer service smile on his lips.

“Very well, sir. I’m excited to work on this project with your team.” Suga matched his smile, hands folded in front of him.

“That’s good to hear”, Mizoguchi sighed, “maybe you’ll get them back on track.”

“Excuse me?”, Suga didn’t stop smiling but cocked his head to one side.

“They slack off lately”, he continued, “so I reeled in this job with a tight schedule, so they don’t have an excuse anymore.”

Before Suga’s eyes flashed the mental image of Iwaizumi’s overflowing desk and the penny had finally dropped.

“There is no need to worry, Mizoguchi-san”, Suga’s smile even widened, not reaching his eyes, “there won’t be any problem with finalizing this project and meeting every expectation and going beyond.”

“That’s the confidence I like to hear. Thank you, you can leave now.” Mizoguchi turned back to his PC, not paying Suga anymore mind which almost infuriated Suga so much he was willing to slam the door shut to show what he thought of this disrespect.

Kunimi was waiting a few steps ahead, leaning at the wall of one of the cubicles with his phone in one hand. When he heard Suga coming out of the office he straightened up, putting his phone away.

“Lunch?”, he asked but Suga heard the strain in his voice and he finally understood all the tension from before.

“Yes, please”, Suga smiled, balling his hands into fists inside his pockets, trying to control his anger. It lasted until they entered the kitchen again.

“Mizoguchi is an asshole, isn’t he?” he blurted out as he stepped over the threshold.

Kindaichi almost let go of his chopsticks while Yahaba snorted out his broth. Nobody paid them any attention though as they stared at Suga who was now crossing his arms, tapping his foot furiously.

“I mean?!” He threw his arms in the air. “The audacity he has when talking about you guys?! In front of some outsider? Hello?! Has he seen anything you guys worked on in the past, I don’t know, five years?! Has he seen how much work you guys have?! And devotion you put into everything that gets wonderful feedback by the way?!”

Suga huffed out a frustrated sigh at the end and rubbed his face until he froze mid-motion. He blinked and slowly peeked through his fingers.

“Oh god”, he gasped, “I’m so sorry! That wasn’t- that so unprofessional, I-“ Suga was already writing apology emails to everyone in the room and to Daichi and Oikawa for being such a brat, regardless the circumstances, when Iwaizumi barked out a sharp laugh.

“You’re not wrong there”, he grinned, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Sorry you have to see the sorry state we’re currently working in, though.”

Suga shook his head. “Don’t be. It is absolutely astonishing how you can still produce such amazing work despite having such an asshat for a boss.”

“Asshat”, Yahaba wheezed, coughing out some more noodles.

“Ugh, disgusting”, Kageyama commented but didn’t say much more on the matter but concentrated on his own food.

“We’re gonna make sure this project will be a huge success”, Suga nodded resolutely, “and make him eat his own words. And hopefully apologize to you all.”

Even Kunimi showed the hint of a smile after Suga angrily took his own bowl and slurped his ramen, spice punching in right away. But he kept on slurping, trying to show his own way of determination.

“It’s good to have you on board, Suga”, Iwaizumi said earnestly, holding up his own bowl. “Here’s to a successful partnership.”

----

From: [email protected] To: [email protected]

Subject: (ノ°益°)ノ

I’m gonna design the shit out of this billboard

(omw back to the office now, btw, you up for a coffee and me?)

Yours, Suga

From: [email protected] To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: (ノ°益°)ノ

Hello Suga,

I’m always up for coffee and you.

See you soon.

Regards, Daichi

#Haikyuu #DaiSuga #fanfiction #Office AU #Sugawara Koushi #Sawamura Daichi #leap of faith

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