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kissedsuns · 18 hours

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lovesick, lando norris

cw: slight smut, slapping, enemies to lovers, degradation

max, lando, and you sit on the worn leather couch in the press conference room. the dim lights cast a soft glow over you all, and the room is filled with the buzz of journalists eager for answers. they fire questions at you rapidly, eager to dissect every detail of the race.

earlier, you and lando had a bad crash at turn 11, and with the tension between you two, this incident has just pushed you both to the brink.

as you sit there, cameras trained on you, you notice lando throwing dirty looks your way, and you catch yourself doing the same. anger churns inside you, and you bite the inside of your cheek, while also trying to calm down by twirling a strand of your hair around your finger.

then, a journalist asks directly, "so, lando, who do you really think was at fault with, uh, the crash at turn 11?" the room goes silent, everyone waiting for his answer. your heart races as you look at lando, who’s already got this mischievous glint in his eye.

"well, i think it's pretty clear that the blame lies with the other driver," lando begins, his gaze fixed intently on you. "i had a clean pass down the straight, and then someone swerved right into my line, cutting me off completely. i honestly have no idea what they were thinking." he shrugs, his expression hard as he shoots another pointed look, making his frustration evident without even needing to say a name.

"maybe they should have their driving license taken away," he adds with a snarky edge to his voice, and when his head snaps in your direction, you fucking lose it.

once those words left his lips, you were more than ready to throw a punch right then and there. obviously, you didn't, but the look in your eyes was enough to show it.

your anger flared even more when his lips curled into a smirk, clearly enjoying this frustrating banter.

"can i also add to this?" you urgently try to wave the journalist over, and only did you just notice that max seems to be finding the whole situation far too amusing for some press conference as he sits back with a sly grin.

"i think that if it wasn’t for a certain someones terrible driving, we could have made it through with no damage to the car." you scoff, glancing in his direction with a smirk.

"i mean, let's be honest, i’m quite happy with p2, and i guess i’ll have to be the bigger person in this situation and not make any stupid comments about a license being revoked." you then drop the mic from your mouth, shooting him another dirty glare as the journalist, along with all the others in the room, eagerly takes notes.

"oh, well, i’m just expressing my opinion, and if the other driver can't handle that, maybe they shouldn't be racing in the first place," lando says with a shrug and a self-righteous look on his face, knowing his comments are getting under your skin.

"and as far as being happy with p2, i think anyone with eyes can see that you should be happy with p2 because you clearly aren't good enough for more than that."

"oh, you little—" you couldn't take it anymore. you wanted nothing more than to punch him square in the face. but before you could say anything else, max interrupts. "alright, alright, i think that’s enough questions. thank you very much, everyone."

max quickly yanks the microphone from both your hands, ushering you off the couch and out of the conference room. you were about to protest, but it was too late. somehow, you were already outside.

max had gone off somewhere, leaving you and lando stranded in the empty hallway.

on your left was the mclaren team hub, but obviously, you didn’t want to be anywhere near anything mclaren-related.

"you’re hilarious, you know that?" you glare at him, your eyes almost twitching with rage.

"and you're a spoiled little brat, you know that?" lando shoots back without missing a beat.

he leans back against the wall, a cocky smirk on his lips, casually surveying you from head to toe. he thought you were so hot when you were mad, but for now, his focus was more on riling you up even more, something you were growing incredibly sick of.

"god, if it wasn’t for max back there," you say, taking one step closer towards him, your index finger pressing against the centre of his chest. "my fist would’ve been in between your teeth."

the tension in the room is palpable, and the look on your face is full of pure anger. yet he stands there with that stupid look on his face, as if to tell you that he didn’t care in the slightest.

he chuckles as you poke his chest with your finger, glancing down at your hand and then back up at you.

he then takes hold of your hand, preventing you from pulling away. "oh, come on, is that the best you've got?" he scoffs, leaning in closer with a smirk, and you can tell he’s having far too much fun with this whole situation.

"go on, hit me," he taunts "hit me, you little brat."

suddenly, the person in front of you didn't seem like lando norris anymore. this wasn't the frustrating, rude, and arrogant lando norris who would shove past you in the paddock, purposefully bumping your shoulder and laughing as he walked off.

this wasn't the lando norris who would send you menacing stares whenever you passed his garage, or who would roll his eyes whenever you opened your mouth to speak during a post-race interview.

whoever this was, standing in front of you with that irritating grin, certainly didn't seem like the same lando norris you were used to.

your palm strikes his cheek without even thinking twice. the silent corridor echoes with the sound of the slap, and you can see his head instantly jerk to the side, revealing the fresh, red imprint of your hand on his left cheek.

realising what you've just done, you slowly retract your hand from his face, your fingers trembling slightly. a gasp escapes your lips, and you’re quick to cover your mouth with your palm, eyes wide with shock.

"oh, shit," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

"oh, did that feel good?" he asked, grabbing your chin and tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "did that make you feel like you won? because let's be real, you never win anything."

"you’re one to talk," you sneer, pulling his hand away from your chin. "you’ve been in formula one for years and still can't reach the top step," you say with disdain, your frown morphing into a shit-eating grin. "if anything, i’ve always been ahead of you. in everything."

he chuckles at your taunt and shakes his head slowly. "oh, really? you think you're ahead of me?"

then, lando’s hand slips forward, grabbing at your hip instead of your chin. he pulls you close to him, your faces now mere inches apart.

"in what? the number of mistakes you've made this season?" he retorts, a smirk playing on his lips. "because you're definitely ahead of me in that category."

you feel the urge to bite down on the inside of your mouth again, the sharp pain serving as a reminder to control your words and actions, in case you catch yourself doing or saying something you’ll regret.

"you make me sick," you spit, your voice laced with disgust.

"aw, poor thing," he mocks, while his thumb continues its gentle caress on your hip.

he observes how you almost melt at his touch, your body responding to him in ways you can't control.

with a deliberate move, his free hand glides to the nape of your neck, fingers tracing along the sensitive skin before gently pulling your face closer to his.

there’s a moment of silence, just the two of you staring at each other so intensely it's like you're communicating without words.

suddenly, almost on cue, you both lean in, and your lips meet in this forceful, aggressive kiss. like all the frustration you've been harbouring has been poured into that one moment.

in an attempt to explore every inch of your body, lando draws you in closer, pressing himself against you and nibbling harshly on your lower lip, before slipping his tongue into your mouth.

you press his body firmly against the wall with a sense of urgency. a few soft moans escape your lips, and your fingers manage to find their way into lando’s hair, gripping onto his curls and tugging gently.

your ears pick up on a faint whine that escapes his lips in response, only fueling your desire as you pull a little harder.

he follows by biting down on your bottom lip, before grabbing your ass and raising you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he spins around and pushes you against the wall.

growing more exhausted by the second, you force your swollen lips apart while your chest heaves with every breath, almost gasping for air.

with a little tremble from anticipation, you pry your hands out of lando’s curls, allowing your fingertips to trail over his shoulders.

you shiver as he presses light kisses along your jawline, enjoying the warmth of your skin before biting down gently on your neck. as he draws you in closer, his hand still firmly holding your ass, he tilts your head up to reveal more of your neck with his other hand, eager to feel every inch of your skin.

in mere seconds, your lips meet again, the kiss more sloppy and less controlled this time. like animals, you cling to each other tighter as you maneuver out of the corridor and into his team hub.

it’s a place where you aren’t particularly welcome, but right now, you couldn’t give a flying fuck.

lando stumbles his way into the lounge of the team hub, his lips refusing to leave yours.

everything else seems to fade into the background as he struggles to focus, his mind has gone foggy at the sensation of your body pressed against his.

finally reaching his private room, he gently lays you down on your back, climbing on top of you with the support of his trusty sofa the mclaren team installed for him.

no one would have anticipated lando would be using it for this particular purpose, which is making out with his rival, but hey, atleast it’s getting its money’s worth.

after a few moans and whines later, both of you eventually grew tired, your energy spent. lando and you reluctantly pulled your shaking bodies apart, slick with sweat and adorned with scratches you lacked the strength to point out.

you both lay there, catching your breath, the silence only being broken by the sound of your heavy breathing and the faint rustle of the couch beside you.

lando sits up on the couch, leaning back against it, his head spinning from what had just happened. raking a hand through his thick hair, he panted slightly, trying to calm his racing heart.

"that was.." lando let out a breath, his words trailing off as he tried to find the right word. he shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "wow."

you muster a laugh at his attempt to express himself. “didn’t think you were my type,” you tease, a playful glint in your eyes.

propping yourself up beside him, you run your finger along the outline of his abs, admiring his frustratingly flawless body. the sight of him leaves you practically drooling.

lando gives a casual shrug, his hand reaching out to pull you closer by the waist. "i’m everyone's type," he teases, a confident smirk gracing his lips. "you should've given in sooner,"

you roll your eyes and stand up from the couch. “i liked you better when you were needy,” you say with a scoff, scrambling to search for your clothes that have been tossed aside and scattered around the room.

"i was not needy," he insists, rising from the sofa as he goes to playfully nip at the skin on your neck.

you toss his mclaren shirt, and it lands on his bare chest with a soft thud. “sure you weren’t, needy norris,” you quip, a playful smirk dancing on your lips.

"oh, you're just so funny, aren’t you?" he teases back, rolling his eyes in a playful manner as he throws the shirt over his head.

once you’re both completely dressed, lando carefully opens the door and steps out of the room, waiting for you to follow suit.

"maybe next time we can do it in my driver’s room? you know, just for a change."

"sure, baby."

eventually, you two part ways, and lando decides to head down and hang out at one of the garages with a few other drivers.

as lando makes his way over to oscar, george and carlos, he becomes gradually aware of something.

it could have been the strange gestures they were doing, like thrusting the air and making absurdly high-pitched moans, or the fact that they all burst out laughing and cheering as soon as they saw lando approaching.

"holy shit, you weren't kidding," george exclaims, his eyes widening in disbelief. his smile widens when he points to the unmistakable handprint on lando’s cheek, as well as the numerous hickeys adorning his neck and collarbone.

yeah, lando had a feeling that he should’ve buttoned up his shirt before leaving the room. as for the handprint, well, you probably had it a lot worse given how many times lando had spanked and slapped you when he claimed you were ‘misbehaving’.

lando tugs at the top of his shirt, attempting to hide the hickeys. "it's not- i didn't-" he splutters, making an effort to protest but he knows deep down that there's no use.

he lets out a huff before storming off. "whatever, idiots."

it just so happened that on his way to change out of his race gear, oscar had walked right by lando’s driver's room. he did his bit before hurrying down to meet with the other drivers, doing his best to ignore the loud and disturbing noises coming from behind that door.

let’s just say that when max and daniel pulled you aside and almost begged you to explain to them why you had a bright red handprint on your face, you weren't exactly having the time of your life either.

looks like you’ll definitely have to be using your driver’s room next time.

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ceruark · 1 day

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ensnared. (yandere! prince! sunday x gn! royalty! reader)

synopsis: prince sunday invites you to dance the entwine with him. if you evade capture, he’ll finally leave you alone. but if you get caught, you’re his forever. cw: general yandere themes - obsessive & possessive behavior, implied stalking words: 3,991 disclaimer/inspiration: the dance “The Entwine” is not my idea! it's from the novel Entwined by Heather Dixon, an all-time favorite of mine :)

“The Entwine, also known as the Gentleman’s Catch, is an amusing and challenging redowa suitable for accomplished partners. [...] Similar to a trois-temps waltz, it is danced in open position with a long sash. The lady and gentleman each take ends of the sash, which their hands must not leave. In a series of quick steps (see below) the gentleman either twists the sash around the lady’s wrists, pinning them (also known as the Catch), or the lady eludes capture within three minutes’ time. STEPS. Twist (35), Needle’s Eye (35), Dip and Turn (36), Lady’s Feint (36), Bridge Arc (36), Under-Arm Swoop (37), Thread (37), Beading the Sash (38), the Catch (38).”

Excerpt from Entwined by Heather Dixon

It has been a year since the queen died.

You stand in the grand ballroom of your palace for the first time since your mother's death. It seems dimmer without her, lacking the light her laughter brought to it. Every shift of skirts has you looking for her, only to be disappointed when you catch yourself seeking out a ghost.

She ruled alone for nearly fifteen years. After your father died in battle when you were young, many other kingdoms tried to swoop in after she became widowed. They vied for her hand in marriage so they could expand their territory and get their hands on the lucrative gemstones that are excavated from your land's caverns. But the queen was unshakable, and she refused to remarry, continuing to keep her kingdom safe and opulent all on her own.

And she died last winter, an incurable sickness settling in her lungs seemingly overnight and stealing her final breath within the week.

You hardly had time to mourn her. With no one sitting on the throne, your mother's advisory court scrambled to find you a suitor so that you could marry and be crowned as soon as possible. There hadn't been a rush to find you one, but with the queen's sudden death, they need to get you on the throne before someone else came along to seize it.

Tonight, Welt— formerly your mother's personal advisor— had declared while you prepared for the ball. Tonight, we will find you a suitor. You will be coronated by summer.

You sigh as your gaze sweeps over the ballroom. Truthfully, you have no interest in any of the attendants. Most of them don't have anything noteworthy about their personalities, and those that do are individuals you've mentally decided are best kept at arm's length. You’re certain that more than half your selection pool were invited out of courtesy; none of them possess enough influence or value for your mother's advisory court to approve of a marriage between the two of you.

Except for one.

Penacony's beloved prince has been pursuing you for as long as you could remember. It started off innocent, a mere childhood crush. Long before you were adolescents, he would pluck flowers from the centerpiece vases on ballroom tables and hand them to you, ever the gentleman. You can still remember the sound of whichever court member was assigned to look after you cooing at the sight, endeared as you accepted the flower from his hands and spent the rest of the night at his side, discussing all the important matters that plagued the minds of young royalty.

And then, things changed.

As you two grew older, something about him shifted— you couldn't quite explain it. It made your skin crawl, the way his gaze trailed you throughout the ballroom, the way his fingers lingered just a little too long when he kissed your hand in greeting, the way anyone you shared mutual romantic interest with started avoiding you like the plague the second he heard of your budding relationship. There was something off about him— about his infatuation with you— and you distanced yourself from him as much as possible over the years.

Your mother's advisory court had been furious; they believed your eventual marriage to Sunday was set in stone given how taken you were with each other as children, and they planned for a prosperous future backed by Penacony's enormous and infinite wealth. They took your refusal to interact with him as rebellion and scoffed at your explanations, but luckily, you weren't alone in your suspicions. Your mother and Welt were also unsettled by the way he looked at you at formal gatherings, and your mother swiftly shut down her court's insistences on you trying to make amends with Penacony's prince.

We have no need for marriages of convenience. My child's happiness and safety will be valued above all else, she told them, and it was the end of the discussion.

Welt has upheld her and your wishes following her death, but the rest of the court are more willing to challenge him than they'd been to challenge the queen. Multiple court members have pestered you about marrying Sunday, stating that he would readily agree; you would get on the throne quickly, and the kingdom would prosper with his empire’s assets. Though they drop the topic the second you snap at them, you can tell they're still scheming, pulling at whatever strings they can to bring the prince back into your favor and push you into his arms.

And the undeniable proof of that stands across the room, piercing you with his golden eyes. Of course he's among the guests the court selected for you to choose your partner from. What else could you expect from them?

You sigh and swipe a glass of wine off a nearby table. It's going to be an incredibly long night.

As you sip at the bitter liquid and eye the blonde prince from Belobog, a familiar voice sounds behind you. "Something troubles you, Your Highness."

You turn around, relaxing at the sight of your faithful personal advisor. Veritas gazes down at you, face as neutral as ever.

"Someone," you respond, a frown tugging at your lips. "It appears the court is still refusing to let go of their little delusion."

He glances over your shoulder and hums noncommittally. "It appears so."

You swirl the red wine around in your glass, continuing your sweep of the guests. Certainly, Belobog's prince seemed like your best option right now. Albeit easily flustered, he was sweet and courageous— you would be able to fall for him given the time.

"Gepard Landau?" Veritas asks, his gaze having followed yours to the man standing beside his sister and her wife.

You look up, meeting his doubtful gaze. "Do you see any better options?"

He takes another glance around the room, then grimaces. You bring your hand to your mouth, covering your sudden laugh.

"Though he may be the most respectable of your options, there is not much Belobog can offer you." He tilts his head, still staring out at the crowd. "I suggest you reconsider."

You flash him a tight, sarcastic smile. "If that is the standard you suggest I go by, then my options are narrowed down to Aventurine and Sunday."

You get along fine with the blonde lord hailing from IPC territory, and he possesses charm like no other. He's gotten you more flustered than any other suitor has, but you know it's all fake. Something lurks beneath his picture-perfect exterior, and he keeps his cards too close to his chest for you to guess what his true intentions are. Someone like that can't be good news for you.

Veritas sighs. "I suppose Landau will have to do, then."

A flurry of movement and fabric draws your gaze to the dance floor. You light up as you watch two figures dance in the center of the crowd, one ducking and dodging out of reach while the other tries with fervor to capture them in their arms.

They've finally brought out the silk sashes used to dance the Entwine.

Your Entwine record is exemplary. When dancing as the gentleman, there were only a handful of people you hadn't been able to catch— Aventurine being one of them. Though your record dancing as gentleman is flawed, your skill when dancing as lady is unmatched and known far and wide.

In all your years, you have never been caught during a dance.

"Wonderful," you say, adrenaline rushing through your veins. You could already feel the exhilaration that came with successful capture and evasion. You turn to your advisor, eyes glistening beneath the lights. "Veritas, would you be so kind as to humor me with a dance?"

You think it's the light playing tricks on your eyes when he flushes red. Before he can respond, though, Welt strides up to the two of you and places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"Perhaps you could get to know your potential suitors better through the Entwine, no?" The man you've come to think of as a father figure smiles down at you, the corners of his eyes creasing as he does. "You enjoy it so much, hopefully it can be used to bring you closer to someone— both literally and figuratively speaking."

Your smile matches his. "I think that's a great idea."

"Perfect." Welt turns toward the dance floor. "Allow me to announce—"

He stops dead in his tracks, freezing just in time to prevent himself from walking into someone. He backs up, and your blood runs cold at the sight left behind.

Sunday stands before you, pristine as ever, with a silver sash draped over his arm.

Welt finds his voice before you do. "Prince Oak," he greets, dipping his head into a bow. "A pleasure to see you again. We are very grateful for your attendance."

Sunday looks at him. The fond expression he had fixed on you smooths out into his perfect half-smile. He nods at Welt in acknowledgement. "Imperial Advisor Yang." He turns to your left, appearing less enthused to greet Veritas. "Imperial Advisor Ratio."

His eyes land on you again, and a chill runs down your spine. You force a polite smile onto your face, bowing your head slightly. "Prince Oak. An honor to see you again."

He sounds breathless when he responds. "The honor is all mine."

When his gaze starts to grow heavy on your shoulders, Welt clears his throat. He eyes the fabric hanging off of Sunday's arm. "I suppose you are here with... intent, yes?"

"Correct," Sunday says. He glances down at the silk, reaching up to pinch a part of it between his fingers.

He meets your eyes again, his face imperceptible. It's more terrifying than his openly longing and lingering gaze.

"I wish to dance the Entwine with you," he says, voice diplomatic and devoid of emotion. "If you are willing."

You clench your hands behind your back. "Will you be dancing gentleman or lady?"

"Gentleman." He pauses, voice lowering a bit. "I wish to try and catch you."

You smother a scowl before it can crawl its way onto your face. Of course he would want to dance as gentleman. How typical.

But there's something to his demeanor that tells you there's more to it than he's letting on. It's sitting on the tip of his tongue: his real intent behind asking you to dance with him.

"For what reason do you wish to dance with me?" In a quieter, harsher tone, you add, "Be honest with me, or I will refuse outright."

His fingers run over the fabric, smoothing out any wrinkles that snag them. He tilts his head to the side, and the desire that swims in his eyes leaves you shaking.

"If I catch you," he says slowly, "you will give me your hand in marriage."

Bile burns at the back of your throat, your anxiety clawing its way up and trying to escape. It's a bold declaration, especially when directed at someone who has never been caught before. Your faith in your skill is resolute, but the sheer desperation on his face is enough to make you hesitate.

Your voice trembles slightly when you speak. "And if you fail?"

He hums, flicking his gaze off to the side. "If I fail, I will never ask for it again."

You latch onto the statement like a moth to a flame. All you have to do is avoid capture— something you've done time and again— to get him to leave you alone. You've never seen him dance the Entwine, or show any interest in it; undoubtedly, your skill will lead you to successful evasion.

This is your chance to get him off your back, for good.

Before you can respond, a firm hand comes down on your shoulder, pulling you backward.

"Your Highness," Veritas whispers into your ear, barely contained urgency lacing his words. "Please consider this carefully. Is this a risk you are willing to take?"

You look up at him, eyebrows raised. "I have never been caught," you mutter back.

His brows pinch together. "There is a first time for everything, and you cannot afford to let this one be that time."

You clench your jaw and cast Sunday a sidelong glance. He stares back at you, his posture perfect and features serene despite the way his eyes drink you in, ravenous. There is, as always, truth to what Veritas is saying; you've never seen Sunday dance the Entwine, but that doesn't necessarily mean he doesn't know how, or that he isn't good at it. There's still a high chance you'll be able to evade him given your record, but the chance of him being able to successfully pull off the Catch, though small, is still a potential outcome that shouldn’t be overlooked.

After all, he wouldn't be asking you if the possibility was as slim as you believe it to be.

You bite your lip, hesitating. You look to Welt, pleading for direction. He locks eyes with you briefly, looking just as concerned as Veritas, before he steps forward and partially shields you from Sunday's view.

"Perhaps another time," he says, a polite grin finding its way onto his face. "We are just coming out of mourning, and though it is nice to be part of festivities again, perhaps dancing is still a bit too much for Our Highness right now— the late queen was very fond of the Entwine. Please understand."

Sunday's mask wavers, irritation seeping through the cracks at Welt's excuse. His sharp gaze cuts back to you, but you let your eyes drift back to the dance floor, refusing to meet it.

The tension is broken by the sound of clapping. You turn your head, frowning at the sight of a member of the advisory court approaching.

"Oh, how lovely!" She swoons, pressing a hand to her chest. Her face is flushed from the wine and she speaks loudly, drawing the ballroom's attention to the cluster of people around you. "Our Highness is going to dance the Entwine with Prince Oak!"

All eyes are on you. Your guests whisper to each other, their excitement tangible and filling the air with charged energy. A long time coming, they think to themselves, oblivious to the unfortunate predicament you've found yourself in. Sunday's affinity for you isn't a secret, especially not to the royal families who watched you two grow up at each other's side. To them, this dance is simply an age-old rumor finally coming into fruition, the first step toward solidifying your relationship with Sunday. And to the advisors scattered around the ballroom, watching you like hawks, it is their efforts finally paying off— the final nail in your coffin that will secure the future they envision for your kingdom.

Refusing him now, under countless pairs of hopeful eyes, would undoubtedly leave an ugly smear on your reputation and the integrity of your kingdom.

Your tongue sits dry and heavy in your mouth. You almost choke on it when Sunday's hand finds the small of your back, gently guiding you toward the dance floor. He practically preens under the attention and pressure. It makes you sick.

Another hand catches your elbow in a bruising grip, and you jolt back, only barely catching yourself to make it seem as though you tripped. You angle your body in a way that prevents the crowd from seeing Veritas's vice grip on your arm.

"My Highness has not agreed to anything yet," he bites out in a low whisper, venom dripping off his tongue.

Sunday's eyes snap to him. His scathing glare does nothing to deter your advisor, who glares back at him in response.

When he looks back to you, the deceptively serene look has returned. With the arm not holding the sash, he extends a hand out to you, tilting his head to the side in question. The guests closest to you all coo fondly.

There's a hint of a smirk on his face. "May I have this dance?"

You place a hand over Veritas's, gently prying his fingers from your arm. You can't bear to look at him right now. "It will be fine," you murmur. "I promise."

You run your hands along your sleeves, wiping off as much of the sweat as you can. You inhale shakily, trying to keep the ballroom tile beneath your feet from swimming.

You look up, a practiced, graceful smile tilting your lips upward. You delicately place your hand in his, suppressing a shudder when he brings it to his lips and presses it to them. The steadiness and strength in your voice surprises you when you say, "Of course, Prince Oak."

The ballroom erupts into a mixture of chatter and cheers. Court advisors pester the crowd surrounding the dance floor, ushering them back and trying to clear a pathway for the two of you. You swallow thickly as Sunday closes his hand around your trembling one.

You turn to Welt and gesture at his pocket with your free hand. "If you would be so kind, Advisor Welt."

He nods stiffly, reaching into his coat and producing a golden pocket watch. "Of course, Your Highness."

Your heart hammers against your ribcage as Sunday guides you to the dance floor. A numbness settles over you, and you robotically nod and smile at the guests that you pass. Their eyes shine with an adoration that you could never possess for this supposed relationship— for him.

Sunday releases your hand when you two reach the center of the dance floor. His eyes are dark as he holds one end of the sash out to you. You take it into your hands and back away from him, toward the other end of the floor. Sunday does the same, and you both stop when the sash is pulled so taught that it tugs you a few steps forward.

The familiar fabric and set-up do little to comfort you.

The crowd shifts again, and Welt emerges from it, standing front and center before the dance floor. He holds the pocket watch up to his face, and your breath hitches with anticipation.

"Your three minutes begins..." His voice reverberates off the ballroom walls, resounding clearly over the jubilant tune the orchestra plays.

"Now."

Adrenaline shoots through you like lightning, and you fly into motion. Your vision sharpens, focused in on every movement Sunday makes as you analyze the arc of his arms and the force behind his tugs on the sash. With each under-arm swoop, you dip beneath his arms and twirl away from him with ease, the steps of the dance coming to you the way breathing does.

He's an adept dancer, you'll give him that. Perhaps if his partner was anyone else, he would have already caught them already, within the first minute of the dance. But you are untouchable on an average night, and on this one in particular, you push yourself past your limits, propelled forward by a fervor and desperation to evade his every attempt of entangling you in his arms.

Twist. Needle's Eye.

"Two minutes," Welt calls out.

Approaching another under-arm swoop, you glance at Sunday's face just in time to see displeasure flicker across it at Welt's announcement. As you glide away from him once more, unfurling the sash between you two, he gives it a sharp tug, causing you to stumble a bit and lose your footing. Your heart skips a beat, but you quickly recover, forcing your limbs to move faster and smoother and match the rapid tempo he has now set for the dance.

Sweat beads along your upper lip as you duck under Sunday's arms repeatedly. You're managing just fine, but you've never had to push yourself this hard before; keeping a close eye on his movements while making sure the sash doesn't get tangled around your wrists is a delicate balancing act, and you can feel yourself teetering back and forth, dangerously close to falling off.

He's a far more formidable partner than you could have ever imagined.

Dip and Turn. Lady's Feint.

"One minute."

Sunday furiously yanks on the sash mid-twirl, and you stagger forward. The sash wraps around your wrists once, twice— three times before you regain your footing and lean back, narrowly avoiding Sunday's sweeping arm that almost hooks around your own.

A chorus of gasps ripples through the crowd at your near capture. It worsens your fraying nerves.

You exhale with exertion, trembling on unsteady legs as Sunday raises the stakes yet again. The tempo he sets is merciless, and your body is jostled between the last of your will and the harsh tugs from the other end of the sash. You grit your teeth. The silk digs tighter into your flesh and sends pinpricks of pain up your arms with each snap of his wrists.

Bridge Arc. Under-Arm Swoop.

"Thirty seconds."

The speed at which you weave in and out of spins leaves you dizzy, nauseous. The ballroom melts into incomprehensible shapes and colors around you. You bite down on your lip hard enough to draw blood, a pitiful attempt to ground yourself so you won't trip up.

You do anyway; Sunday's movements are too fluid and swift to keep up with.

The sash binds around your wrists five more times, bringing you even closer to him— too close. You're not sure if it's skill, luck, or sheer force of will that allows you to continue to dodge his attempts at ensnaring you, but you know that you shouldn't be able to do it at this distance.

Frustration peeks through his graceful disposition. His golden eyes trail you, chasing after you as you elude his grasp once more.

Thread. Beading the Sash.

"Fifteen seconds."

You throw yourself into another dip, eyes locked onto the floor just beyond the arm obscuring your line of vision.

If you dodge this one, you'll be free.

Sunday lifts his arms suddenly and pulls, bringing the sash as far back as he can without letting go. Your arms twist in the air behind your back. A strangled gasp leaves you as you lose your footing. In a whirl of fabric, you stagger backward, away from the other side of his outstretched arm.

The Catch.

Your back slams into something solid, and before you can process what has happened, a firm arm snakes itself around your waist, pulling you flush against the body behind you. Your hands, still bound together, dig into your collarbone, suspended at an awkward angle from the sash held above you.

The crowd erupts into noise.

In front of you, a little girl pulls on her mother's sleeve and points in your direction. "Mommy, he caught Our Highness!"

Behind them, Veritas stares at you, petrified and speechless.

Snapping out of your stunned stupor feels like coming up for air after almost drowning. You suck in a shuddering breath and writhe, yanking your arms against the sash and leaning forward, futilely trying to escape. Sunday gathers the last of the fabric in his hands and gives it another sharp tug, keeping you in place against him.

He lowers his head, and his lips brush over your ear as he speaks. "Magnificent," he whispers. His voice rumbles with pleasure, almost to the point of purring. "You are truly a talented dancer."

"Let me go," you rasp out. You're physically exhausted, and your racing, panicked heart prevents you from catching your breath.

Sunday hums again, bringing the hand holding the sash to brush your cheek gently. "Why would I do that?" He chuckles softly, and it's so genuine— not the slightest bit mocking— that it leaves you all the more unsettled. "I caught you."

He brings his arm down, settling it around your waist. His fingers brush over your bound hands, and he presses a tender kiss to your cheek.

"You're finally mine."

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lordandladywhistledown · 22 hours

Text

More proof that Colin’s flirtatious character was just on the outside/for the show is that in the part of Colin’s journal that Pen reads, he says how he's lying next to a beautiful woman, touching her face and wondering how is it possible to be so close to someone yet still so far away.

He's clearly not confident in himself or his choices because his heart is still telling him that it's not right. He changed only to attract attention, but that was not what he needed (and he deep down knew that), but he just didn't want to accept it. He still persued ladies because his clever older brothers and friends put the idea of that in his head. He was taught that every man must seek pleasure even if he doesn't even want to in his heart, and if he chooses not to do that, he will be laughed at.

He flirts so much like it’s the only thing he learned and did when he was gone, and shares very little of the actual travelling he did. But the only person to whom he shares the details is Penelope - in his letters, when he's apologising and when he doesn't start hating her for reading his journals (she tells him he's a great writer and he believes her, even if he doesn't show it)

Only Penelope is able to get to his heart because she knows what he truly wants and loves and desires, and that's also why she's able to read his fake persona and write what she did in Lady Whistledown. And he got so mad at that because someone else finally realised the truth about him - someone actually understood him - and it pained him that out of all people, the first person to do so was Lady Whistledown herself.

And instead of people understanding that, reading just a little bit between the lines, they go ahead and shout at how he's a dick and that Penelope doesn't deserve him.

Please, please understand that emotions, feelings and behaviour are all very complicated things and also very easily influenced by the outside world, and that Colin is the same as he was in S1 on the inside. It's just that he's insecure of that part of him so he chooses to hide it. And he so quickly realizes he loves Pen because when they are together, he doesn't feel the need to be anything other than himself and still be loved and appreciated.

End rant.

#this has been my ted talk for part 1 #thank you #see you june 13th #no but for reals #my boy colin is just shielding his heart because he thinks no one will take it as it is #but pen does #and he understands that #polin #bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton s3 #nicola coughlan #luke newton #bridgerton 3 #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton

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bitterchocoo · 1 day

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Can you do Boothill with a male reader who has the abilities of Absolute Solver from murder drones

Male reader went missing after the ICP destroyed Boothill's homeland. Many years later, Boothill and the other met male reader but male reader already got possessed by the Solver

I want an angst with a happy ending story please

Absolute

Boothill | M. Reader as the Absolute Solver [Murder Drones]

----------

"The flesh demands invitation."

----------

"What are you doing all smiling like that?"

"Huh? Oh nothing."

[Name] narrowed his eyes at Boothill's words, not believing it. He says it was nothing, but his scans say otherwise. The other can't help but laugh at [Name] expression, those neon [Color] eyes that narrowed on his visor. "I was just thinking about what to get my daughter."

"I see, got any ideas yet?"

"I'm thinking..."

Without saying anything else, [Name]'s visor changes to that of a shopping list. "Well there are countless gifts you could get from across the galaxy so—"

"Wait wait wait!"

His visor glitches and goes back to normal. [Name] looked at Boothill for a second seemingly confused. What was that about?

"I want to make it special."

"Oohh.." [Name] blurred out as he finally understands. "If you're going to handmade it. I could help if you like."

"Heh, thanks [Name]."

For as long as he knows [Name], the robot is a kind person who's happy to help those in need. He was a joy. Everyone was. Everyone on his home planet was a joy, like a small neighborhood. Everyone gets along with one another, there's rarely any conflict it's just a nice and welcoming place. Home.

Therefore [Name] didn't deserve this, none of them deserved this. It's outrageous. What did they do? What kind of sin did they commit to have on this planet. Their home. Destroyed in such a way.

As Boothill look at the surrounding fire and destruction of his home, he began to search around the area. Any place he thinks people will be at. Anywhere.

There are at least survivors right? Surely there are some people who survived this.. who saw the attack an immediately run towards a safe place.. surely..

Right..?

But nothing..

Boothill find nothing but ashes and ruins of once someone's home.

Everything..

..is destroyed.

Why.. why does this have to happen? He was happy. They were happy! What did they do to deserve this?

SCREW THE IPC!!

----------

"Upgrading models? cutting maintenance costs? There are many reasons the client may wish to disassemble a drone individual or a series after a period of use. Following these two simple steps is key to avoid—"

"Incompletely disassemble drones may occasionally reboot from software death alone. More than undead federal fine hazards. Its corrupted AI carries an increased risk of future errors."

He stood there completely motionless. How is he supposed to react to that? After so many years...

Staying at the Express may be the best call for him. It's a free ride after all. Not to mention everyone is quite nice. Dan Heng was even willing to show him the Data Bank but...

This is one of them..? One of the information they've obtained during their travels? Don't get him wrong, it's useful, incredibly useful. But... if Boothill were to obtain such knowledge long ago..

He would have properly disassembled him.

To prevent such a fate from happening to someone he holds in high regards. If he were to do that... none of this would have happened!!

He—it screeches as it tries to get out of its restraints. That's not him. That's not [Name]!!

This was just another planet. One where the Nameless has set their sights on. They thought it was just another Stellaron Crisis. But... this is not the work of a Stellaron.. but the work of a drone that's not been properly disassembled.

It continues to screech as the researchers expose the drone to the artificial sunlight. It screeches in pain and agony as the researchers run around, trying to put a stop to this... thing..

He can't watch this.. he can't watch this any longer.

Without saying another word Boothill leave the Cathedral to get some fresh air. He can't. He just can't watch that.. whatever they were doing to someone he cared for.

----------

"MacGuffin." The robotic voice echoes throughout an empty.. bloody.. ruined.. Cathedral.

Is this the type of thing the Nameless has to handle? Not the Absolute Solver no no... Fighting for your muddle fudgling life! Dodging an attack Boothill ready his revolver and shoot the claw-like thing.

It laughs at their attempts. It's six against one and yet they're losing how pathetic! "Thank you for the new host." It stated casually before narrowing avoiding an attach by Himeko's laser with a smirk on it's face the Solver summons it's claws once more and began it's onslaught of attacks. In a blink of an eye, all of them experience multiple near death situations left, right, and center. Fighting someone who can regenerate is cheating! They could be here for all of eternity!

Where's the cure!?

Its perpetual grin seems to widen every time any of them try to harm it which of course never worked as the Solver's regeneration rate is incredibly high. It laughs, summoning a miniature blackhole that was quickly disabled by Welt as he attack the Solver. "Have any of you find it get?" "No, we're still looking!" March replied, firing an arrow at one of it's claws while looking around for the crucifix that holds the data. The cure for the Solver. "Well I'm sorry, but fighting while searching is not easy!" Caelus cuts in, looking around the place as he ducks under the benches to avoid a stray attack. "Just focus on searching, we'll try to cover you!" Dan Heng stated firmly, using his powers as a Vidyadhara to at least land a critical attack on the Solver.

With each attack the Solver just keep regenerating! But each time they themselves is inching closer to their own demise! Boothill took cover as he reload his bullets while looking at his surroundings for any potential threats. But something else caught his eye..

It's the crucifix!

Quickly taking it from the bloody floor, Boothill examine it for a moment, making sure it's the real deal. After a quick and swift examination, the usb connector pops out at the bottom of it. It's real alright. The cure for the Solver and the key to ending this nightmare.

"Cover for me!" He signaled before making a run for it. The Nameless did their best to keep the Solver at bay until Boothill does the finishing blow and slammed the crucifix usb model straight into the drone's visor and just like clockwork it let out a glitched robotic groan as it tries to take out the crucifix and in its efforts the cure done it's job. Motionlessly throws crucifix away the drone immediately slump to the floor.

Looking amongst themselves, the Nameless stood their ground not knowing whether the fight is over or is the Solver playing tricks on them. With caution Boothill slowly approached his old friend. Surely he's still there right? The Solver is dead. The patch worked! It has to work! Or else it....

Kneeling in front of him Boothill extended his hand. Waiting for a respond from the other. Anything! Much to their surprise the drone took the other's hand, slowly looking up, revealing it's---no, his neon [Color] eyes on his visor while the crack where they inserted the patch is slowly being healed. Yes! It worked! Letting out a dry, pained laugh Boothill gave [Name] a tight embrace. He's back. His old friend's back.

#seme male reader #top male reader #x male reader #x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x male reader #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr x male reader #hsr boothill #boothill #boothill x reader #boothill x male reader #murder drones #absolute solver #murder drones absolute solver

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vigilskeep · 1 day

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I'm curious what you don't like about dao Leliana? If you've got any posts about it could you please point me in their direction?

i probably have posts somewhere but god knows where they are now. i will present a little overview

and to be clear, because i know this website, this is completely a matter of personal taste in writing and character, i am not, um, cancelling leliana dragonage or having anything but appreciation for those who like her, i am saying i probably wouldn’t want to hang out with her. i am also not attempting to convince anyone or justify anything, i am explaining my own feelings since i have been asked about them. i am going to use language that sounds a little overly harsh because i am trying to express those feelings succinctly without making this post very long by apologising and minimising with caveats about when i do like her

i find her a little grating. i find her characterisation based on her backstory irritatingly inconsistent, with genuinely confusing naivete for someone with a supposedly hardened backstory. she’s a literal bard, and she’s always always on the back foot in dialogue with quicker thinkers who can easily shock and scandalise her, and she believes horrors are too ugly for anyone to write about (literal bard!). i’m also vaguely baffled by the amalgamation of vibes they went for visually, like, idk for example, repeatedly mentioning the supposedly ragged boyish hair of someone incapable of understanding a lack of interest in high fashion and who expresses friendship by talking about nice shoes and hair specifically. it makes me struggle to buy into her as a character, and i find her hard to picture.

i think her compassion for others rings fairly false, possibly just on a poor voice acting level; if they wanted me to believe in it from listening to her dialogue when she chimes in during side quests, they got it wrong, i don’t. those bland comments, as cloying on the tongue as artificial sweetener instead of real sugar, are a let-down when i could have someone more entertaining in the party. i hear her talk and think: i wish i’d brought someone else. and her kindness is often shallow, buying into prejudice easily when left unchecked. which is again, weird for a character whose entire concept is being more worldly than she appears. part of that backstory is also definitely growing up mostly surrounded by elven servants, which makes those biases in that direction even more notable to me than they otherwise would be. she’s someone who’s absorbed in her own internal struggle yet who has never noticed the struggles of those around her until directly confronted. i am constantly disappointed by the missed opportunities with her character, like her mixed cultural identity barely being discussed in a game where the backdrop of the ferelden-orlais conflict being under-explored is to me one of really very few big storytelling mistakes, or like her mechanic where you can ask her about wherever you are—a really fun idea, for a bard!—and she literally never not once has anything interesting to say. like, come onnn. im the worldbuilding enjoyer. hit me with something

some of this is going to be affected also by me having spent the most time with her as my surana, who happens as a character to be a natural born hater, and also predisposed to share some of these feelings. i do find dao leliana much more fun to hang out with when playing a non-elven, non-mage character, but given the in-world context, that in itself is perhaps not a glowing recommendation? (obligatory note again, i am not up in arms that this fictional character has fictional prejudices against fictional people and i in fact think this part is good writing that suits the world. the version of her i adore is, after all, in dai when she has done significantly more wrongs including against elves and mages specifically.) it’s more that kindness should be what leliana has going for her as one of the most prominently good-aligned companions, and i don’t believe in hers. if i’m committing to this being me disliking the character rather than disliking some writing flaw, i could say that i read her compassion as a performance, and that’s something i happen to never really like in a person or character: when they act because they want to look like a good person, and feel like a good person, rather than because they truly care about the impact of their actions. maybe i don’t prefer her in dai because she’s somehow better written; maybe she just drops that mask i don’t care for. hard to say!

also her personal quest has some of the worst writing and acting in the game i never want to hear marjolaine again. please.

#and now for a childish addition: also i cant believe i get leliana and maric gets katriel. i shouldve had katriel #i wouldve treated her right.#leliana enjoyers please dont hate me for this i love your work. i love that you love your girl shes just not for me #top ten posts i am going to regret in the morning. hits that post button

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eemamminy-art · 3 days

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You have turned me from a Zenos hater into a Zenos ambilaventer keep posting and you might manage to turn me into a Zenos lover

If you already hated him though is me drawing him really going to make that big of a difference? 😩 Like I know I give him a fat ass and extremely delicious nose in my artwork but now I feel compelled to give you my tedtalk on why I like zenos lmao

This is about to be really long and also contains spoilers for stormblood, shadowbringers, and endwalker

This might surprise you but I like Zenos for his characterization and storyline in the game itself! The fanart is just kind of a bonus. He's one of many examples in Stormblood of a character that is shaped by their experiences, though I think it's not told as successfully as it is for like, Fordola, Arenvald, or Yotsuyu, because a key part of his backstory was locked to a short story in a print-only book (which I think is out of print now). The most you see of it in the actual game is this blink and you miss it line from Lyse at the very end of 4.0:

(Dialog from the quest "Stormblood", patch 4.0)

What really, really appeals to me about Zenos though, is that he is the personification of depression and that really resonates with me. He has anything he could possibly want, he has accomplished a great many things, but he feels completely hollow inside. He's miserable. He slaughtered countless Domans including their leader and felt nothing, commanded to do it by his father because (as shown in that short story) he only ever was acknowledged to even exist to his father when he practiced violence. So it's a given now, that's what's expected of him and that's all his life is. He's completely desensitized.

He finds one thing that makes him feel alive, that is the warrior of light challenging him, and it becomes his sole focus. Nothing else matters but chasing that high, because every single other thing is a low. After being bested by the warrior of light for the very last time, faced with probably prison for his crimes, he decides to die by his own hand on that high note rather than go back to the drudgery and misery that is everything else.

It's why in endwalker he can be swayed to do something good at the very, very end. He doesn't have a moral compass because he was shaped into an attack dog by his father, he sees "righteousness" as an excuse for war. Because I mean, what else is Garlean propaganda but righteousness from their twisted perspective? He asks Jullus if he would be happier had he a good reason to kill so many garleans after killing his own father— he makes it plain that death is death and there is no justice or good or evil in his eyes. He did have a reason, and it was that his father's use of black rose would likely kill the warrior of light, the only person or thing that gave Zenos any joy in life. Later, it was that Fandaniel dangled the idea that the warrior of light would be attracted to the slaughter and would come running to stop him so he killed more people during the civil war after the emperor's death. But he doesn't need to say that that was why. The reason doesn't matter, he knows the action would not change no matter how it was justified. Even if it was a "good" reason, death is death.

(Dialog from the quest "The Time Between the Seconds", patch 4.0)

(Dialog from the quest "As the Heavens Burn", patch 6.0)

I often see people take Alisaie's part in that scene as her convincing him to be a better person but that's really not what happens. He knows if he takes that action that others perceive as good and helps to stop Endsinger, he could have that high again in facing the warrior of light one more time. He could find joy and meaning, even for a fleeting moment. Then once again end it all because he fears returning to the low monotony of life. It's all over his dialog, especially in Endwalker. The dialog at the very end where he asks the warrior of light if they feel fulfilled, I know is meant to be a bit more of a meta question toward the player themselves, but I'd like to think it's Zenos comparing how different his outlook is to the warrior of light's. The warrior of light has many things keeping them going, whereas Zenos is drowning in despair with only one bright spot that he is constantly chasing time and time again.

(Dialog from the quest "Friends Gathered", patch 6.0)

those three tiny lines can hold so much zenoswol yearning in them AAAAAAAAAAAAA I AM not well

I personally still feel like there was room for him to survive that and to be gently guided into more and more good and try to undo some of that conditioning but I think he might be too polarizing of a character for him to become a permanent ally in canon. Much as I would love to see that! I have to wonder if the mentions of him in the 6.X patches that bounced between positive and negative were testing the waters, but I will leave my tinfoil hat aside because this post is already WAY too long lmao

I understand why people dislike him: they think he enjoys murder because he does it without "a good reason", they don't like how obsessive he becomes toward the warrior of light who is an extension of the player themselves, they don't like that in Fandaniel's scheme in "in from the cold" Zenos is the one inhabiting the warrior of light's body. Totally get it, totally understand.

I'm just saying I see the complexity to him and I find it compelling. Just as I found the overwhelming grief and despair that motivated Nidhogg or Emet-selch or Elidibus to be compelling. I think what people miss though when you like an antagonist is that feeling empathy toward them means you don't feel empathy toward the people they harmed, or that you somehow agree with what they did. But really, I just love seeing these characters that are faced with such tragedy or misery that they start to lose sight of right and wrong. They're driven entirely by emotions. For a story where emotions are literally power, I think it's a really interesting angle to take with the antagonists of that story.

Man, where was I going with this? 😂 I just love Zenos... I don't think I will be convincing anyone to like him who doesn't already, and that's not at all my intent. I just thought I'd share my perspective a little bit after getting this ask!

#ffxiv #zenos yae galvus #replies #hope this all makes sense #also please don't come at me with wank or discourse about how much you hate zenos #I've heard it all before and you're not gonna convince me to hate him with wank I'll just block you lol #endwalker spoilers #long post

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sweetheart4you · 2 days

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Hiii so I have an idea for a request~ how about illumi with a male reader (preferably cis) who can transform into someone else by drinking their blood? Btw he has to keep drinking that person's blood because a drop does that he can only be that person for one hour (if he drinks multiple people's within the same time period blood he can switch between them)

How about he's sly and flirty, but the moment someone gives him a compliment he freezes not knowing how to react... Also you know what I'm going to ask for.. he has boob windows in most of his clothes

-🧸

I'm gonna make this A/B/O, I hope you dont mind :). Other than that, I don't have anything to say, so...

When he first met you, he didn't care, mostly because you had been in disguise and hadn't smelt like, looked like, or been yourself.

The second time Illumi met you, you were yourself, though with extremely strong scent blockers.

He couldn't help but adore you immediately. You were a strong, capable, beautiful omega. What's there not to love?

Illumi started to stalk you, trying to understand you more. Which is how he got the scent of your pheromones. God, he loved that smell and needed more.

Stalking is also how he figured out how your power worked. He fell more in love with you and finally knew the perfect gift to give you!

You stepped outside your house to find a package that you didn't order. “Hm? Where'd this come from?.."

You took the package inside your house and opened it. Inside was a minty chocolate scented oversized hoodie, a vial of blood, and some of your favorite snacks.

There was a note at the bottom that you picked up and read.

“Hello my dear. You are the most perfect omega I've ever seen. I have sent you some courting gifts; one of my scented hoodies, some of my blood, and snacks I have seen you have an affinity for. I hope you will agree to my courtship.”

I am so sorry not all of the things you asked for were specifically mentioned, but I got inspo and ran with it (╥﹏╥)

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thezombieprostitute · 20 hours

Text

Dragonfly - Part 2

Summary: Steve has just about everything he could ever want in life. He's got you, a baby on the way, and a successful Family. No one would dare interfere with that. Right?

A/N: Reader is female, pregnant. No other descriptors used.

Word Count: ~1k

Warnings: Death threats, Implied violence, Pregnancy. Please let me know if I missed any!

Part 1 -- Part 3

You’ve been stuck inside the house for days. It’s a beautiful house, you feel comfortable in it, but knowing you can’t leave makes you want out more than ever. You try to distract yourself by cooking and baking whatever it is the baby is craving but that only goes so far. Especially when you can feel Steve’s frustration adding to your own. Something needs to actually be done but, with nothing you can actually do, it’s just building up a lot of frustrated energy for both of you. He can at least use the home gym for some of his energy but all you’re allowed to use in there is the treadmill and it’s just not enough.

Bucky finally has some news and calls you both into Steve’s office. You vaguely recognize the person with him as God the Bounty Hunter, or GBH as he allows only his closest circle to call him. Steve sets you in the chair behind his desk, the most comfortable one in the office, before sitting on the desk facing the two men.

“GBH has been able to get an appointment with the person who runs the boards,” Bucky starts. Steve’s fists clench as he grabs the edge of the desk, fighting the urge to punch the faceless person. “It’s at the Cairo Hotel and I’m gonna recommend neither of you is there for it.”

“What?” Steve’s anger is evident in his clenched jaw.

“There are a few factors, Steve,” Bucky raises his hands. “Namely, I don’t think you can control yourself to follow the rules of neutrality at the appointment. We can’t afford to lose Pine’s support.”

Steve lowers his head in understanding. You get up and gently rub your hand between his shoulder blades, trying to help him keep calm.

“Another factor is my professional standing,” GBH adds. “I have a reputation and clout to uphold. These aren’t the kind of people you want to piss off. Anything happens to Mr. Smith at an appointment with me, I’ll be done for. And not just professionally.”

“GBH assures me that there is procedure for a target to remove their contract or for someone else to do so on their behalf,” Bucky offers. “It’s likely gonna cost a lot, but I know that doesn’t matter.” Steve nods. “Plus, it’ll keep her off of the contract postings for at least five years.”

“But I am highly doubtful anyone will get any information on who posted the contract,” GBH confessed. Steve turned to glare at him but the other man seemed unaffected as he continued, “again, lots of regulation and factors. Namely trust within the business. No one’s gonna post a contract if there’s a chance the target finds out they’re the ones who opened it.”

“Just business, huh,” Steve mocks.

You hug him from behind, “just getting the hit on me removed would be a major quality of life improvement.” You nuzzle your face against his shoulder. “And maybe we can send one of the Garbage Men to the appointment? They’re good at getting subtext and negotiations, right?”

Steve and Bucky both nod at your assessment.

“I was planning on just me and God,” Bucky admits. “Would it be acceptable for us to bring a third?”

GBH contemplates, “it shouldn’t be a problem. The key thing is that it’s at Pine’s establishment and he doesn’t have to worry about someone trying to hurt him in retaliation for doing his job.”

Steve’s grip on the desk makes his knuckles go white. He hates the idea of his wife’s life or death being a matter of ‘business’. But he knows that’s how it is for everyone outside his circle. It’s the kind of thinking that he’s worked hard to make sure he doesn’t fall into. “Whatever you need to do, do it. I want this contract burnt.”

It’s finally the day of the contract appointment and you do your best to distract yourself and Steve. He’s always been willing to do whatever you needed but it’s been magnified since your confirmed pregnancy test a few months ago. Thinking it might help both of you to relax a little, you ask him to help you out.

A foot massage for your swollen feet, keeping his hands busy and his thoughts focused on your moans of pleasure.

A warm bath to help your muscle aches, keeping his attention focused on your naked body and the temperature of the water.

Which, of course, led to the two of you in bed so he can properly worship your body. Part of you misses the rougher sex but you understand Steve’s hesitancy. And damn if he doesn’t still make you feel so good you forget your name.

Steve holds your sleeping form in his arms, gently rubbing your belly. He knows you’ve been trying to distract him and he’s so grateful to you. He’s barely been able to keep from punching walls and checking his phone every five minutes. But taking care of you really helped to settle him.

He hears the telltale chirp of his phone and moves as carefully as he can so that he doesn’t wake you. The message is from Bucky, Contract burnt. Possible lead thanks to Teach. His shoulders go lax as he finally feels the relief he’s been longing for.

He returns to his place in the bed, holding you close. You barely wake up, just enough to make yourself comfortable and kiss his neck. It’s not completely safe for you and your baby boy yet. But now that the overarching danger has been taken care of, he can focus on finding and crushing the source. Whoever Dragonfly is, Steve vows they will die in agony by his own hand.

Part 1 -- Part 3

Tags:

@alicedopey; @aryhyuuga; @cynic-spirit; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jamneuromain; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @ktficworld; @leryg0; @rayofdawnworld; @rebekahdawkins; @texmexdarling

#mob boss!steve rogers #mob!steve rogers #mafia!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #mob!steve rogers x reader

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that-ari-blogger · 2 days

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"Eda, do you have kids?" (Eda's Requiem)

The Owl House is a series about identity and the freedom to express oneself the way they wish. It explores the ways in which that affects relationships with others and oneself. Self-image, mental health, love, all fall under this bracket. This is partly why I would refer to The Owl House as a queer story rather than just a story with a queer protagonist. It engages with the concept in a nuanced way that I think is interesting.

The Owl House is also about family. The theme was present at the beginning, but it was very much a background thought. However, season two examined this idea in a ton more detail, through the Golden Guard, through Amity, and even through the side characters.

But the single best part of The Owl House is its ability to weave themes together. Family and identity are parts of each other. A family is a group of people with a shared identity, and a persons sense of self is usually defined by their experiences with their family. That is why found family is a part of family, it’s not about blood, it’s about connection.

This duality is directly the cause of my two favourite episodes in the show, Reaching Out, and Eda’s Requiem, the latter of which deals with a crisis of identity and a juxtaposition of past and future.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD (The Owl House)

How does Eda define herself?

That is a question that grows more complicated over time. She is the Owl Lady, the most powerful witch in the Boiling Isles, which is a neat thing have while it remains true. However, she stops being that at the end of season one, and still clings to the moniker, why?

“How did you become the Owl Lady with your stage fright?”

It’s a persona, an act that she puts on to impress everyone, including herself. It is an identity that she wears like a mask, and who would know more about wearing masks than Raine Whispers.

I’m going to take a brief moment to talk about my favourite little detail in the series, and I give all credit to @Idlescreee’s video, Names in The Owl House: Breakdown and Analysis, which pointed this out to me.

I am one of those people for whom silence makes my skin crawl, and so I like to put on music or white noise while I work. One of my go to sounds is that of rain, I am literally listening to it as I write this post.

So Raine Whispers is a quiet name about the beauty of nature and the quietness of a natural sound. Perfect for a bard, right?

Well, not exactly. Context gives meaning more than anything else, and Raine’s context is the Boiling Isles, in which the rain is acid, making a hissing sound as it destroys everything in its path. Raine Whispers is a name that refers to the fury of nature. It is quaint at first glance but could destroy you if given the chance. A fitting name for a spy.

In any case, the purpose of Raine in this episode is to provide a contrast to Eda, they are someone from their past who has changed a lot since the two last met. Raine is unconditionally the wisest character in the series, and their ability to read people is unrivalled. So, they can see through any illusion she throws up.

They are also the first named non-binary character in the series, and it is a neat piece of storytelling that a character who’s sense of identity involves not being confined by binary gender would be against a villain who runs on categorising people. It’s not dwelled on, which is a strength of the show’s normalisation, but it’s cool, none the less.

The mirroring of Eda means that the audience can notice the two’s similarities more easily. Most importantly, Eda has also changed, although not as much as she thinks.

I am going to bring back the concept of a lowest common denominator style of character analysis. Essentially, a character can be boiled down to a single concept that cannot be changed for the character to stay the same person. The character can switch up their entire identity, allegiance, or even body in some cases, but it is this attribute that keeps them recognisable.

For example, Hunter is brave. He switches up characterisation almost entirely over the series, going from the Golden Guard to the most precious boi over the course of two seasons, but he keeps the fact that he is, at all times, bone numbingly terrified, and still able to persevere. Hunter is brave.

Eda, meanwhile, is complicated. She is an agent of chaos, but she brings stability to the lives of everyone she is close to. She is against authority, but that is an allegiance rather than a descriptor. So, with the full understanding that this is inaccurate, I will say that Eda is free.

Again, this is inaccurate, and oversimplifying, but it’s the best I can come up with. Eda is unabashedly herself, and the primary conflict of this episode is trying to work out who that is. So… Eda is Eda? That’s unhelpful but hold onto it for a moment.

The episode itself follows an opportunity to live the good old life with an old friend, and Eda jumps on it. She is growing distant from Luz and King, and she doesn’t quite understand why this upsets her as much as it does. She has become a parent without even realising it.

So, she takes the chance to go with Raine, chasing the high of connection and creating the persona of Mama Eda, although that is where the analysis gets weird.

Maternal and paternal behaviours are different across cultures, but they are usually not specifically necessarily reliant on gender. Yes, they are linked by association (it’s part of the words), but it’s not intrinsic.

Case and point, in the culture that I read this story from, Eda is absolutely terrible at being maternal. So she doesn’t try to be, instead, she fills a ton of paternal roles in the lives of those around her. But it’s also inaccurate to read her as entirely paternal. Instead, she fits both roles, leaning further into one, but not entirely.

Essentially, Eda parents in her own way, and struggles when trying to live up to “the right method” of doing things. Eda is Eda. She excels at doing her own thing. Trying to define her as one archetype is reductive and misses the nuance of her character.

What I think is really interesting, is that Eda realises she has become a parent when the story essentially threatens to take her family away, and she is surprised by how she feels.

While I have my opinions on the fake out, it is an effective way to see what the fear of loss does to a person, or rather, the fear of unimportance.

Being a parent is about guiding your children, but its also about letting go. Eventually, every bird will eventually leave the nest. However, that doesn’t mean the relationship is over. People still need guidance, even as adults.

Eda is willing to throw her life away as a last-ditch effort to help her family without having to say goodbye. She doesn’t think they need her anymore, so she is willing to go out with a bang. But she is wrong.

Eda clings to the instrument, even as it kills her. She thinks that love means dying for the people she cares about, but that's not entirely true. You have to live for them as well. I wonder who else in the series could learn that lesson.

A rhapsody is a musical piece associated with strong, enthusiastic emotions. A requiem is about remembrance. Raine’s song is about hope, and the joy of a future yet to be. Eda’s is about a past well lived, and the memory of that love. If you put the two together, you get a song that can bring down a mountain.

“Eda, do you have kids?” “Uh, they're not mine-mine. Well, it doesn't matter. They both have real families to return to.” “I don't know what you're running from, but a great witch once told me... something about punching fears in the face? What I'm trying to say is don't give up so easily. They probably need you more than you realize. We can find another way to stop Belos together.”

Remember what I said about Raine being wise? This is that.

Raine teaches Eda that she is still needed. She lets Eda know that her purpose isn’t gone, its just different. You are different people all throughout your life, you just need to remember what you have seen, and change with the times.

Why is the line read of this girl realising she's back in the conformatorium so heartbreaking?

I also want to point out the fear of insignificance from a found family perspective. Eda thinks that her relationship with Luz is less valuable than their blood relations, but I don’t really believe that. Eda has taught Luz magic and sheltered her from a literal dictator. She has raised King from childhood. I think those are pretty important things for a family member to do, whether through direct relation or not.

In the resolution of this episode, King changes his name to be an official part of Eda’s family, which, sure, that’s how things work in the Boiling Isles.

“Surprise, Eda! Now we're connected for life, and there's nothing you can do about it!”

She’s a parent now, and that relationship is as important to king as finding out who his biological father is. In other words, Eda still has a purpose, and the fact this surprises her means that she has a lot to learn, but she is better at it than she thinks.

One last thing I want to talk about before I go is that Raine is a unique rebel. Usually, in stories about fighting an authoritarian regime, the cost of rebellion comes up. This is the conceit of Andor, but also part of Wicked, and She-Ra and the Princesses of Power. In these stories, the idea that one person must use the tools of their enemy. Not as bad as their opponents by any stretch of the imagination, but sacrificing their own morality in a small way for future generations.

Raine doesn’t do that. Raine is fighting for a better world, and at all times, they will sacrifice their plans to save the individual. Raine has plans in motion that can counteract any single “failure”, but crucially, preserving the world they want to protect is never a failure to them.

So, in summary, found family is just as important as blood family. More important in some cases. Eda has built her identity around being a parent without realising that is what she has been doing, this episode is her confronting that. Raine is cool. Defining people is difficult and takes away from who they are as people. The Owl House is a good show.

A Kikimora is a creature associated with sleep paralysis. So her ability to paralyse people is a neat thing, as well as that "night night" line.

Final Thoughts

This season has a string of episodes that are determined to break me, but I will stay strong. Through The Looking Glass Ruins, Hunting Palismen, and now this. But I’m fine, I’ve got this.

Eda’s Requiem is one of my two favourite episodes in the series. I can’t gush enough about the music, the pacing, the purpose seeking. This is so compelling, and it really works as a piece of storytelling.

The episode does have one flaw, in my opinion, and to me, this is an example of how one weird piece of direction can mess with my suspension of disbelief. The extended syllable whenever anyone says “legally” in this episode is so… off putting. It’s like King is expecting to be cut off, and it’s asking for Eda to misunderstand him. It’s such a small detail, but the episode is almost perfect otherwise, and this sticks out to me like a sore thumb.

The episode is still phenomenal though, and so to balance out my criticism, here’s a small detail I really liked. When Eda punches the guard, his head spins around 360 degrees. First up, the casual worldbuilding that this guy can do that but also the fact that the outfit doesn’t react that much to it means that it has been made especially to fit his anatomy. That’s a cool detail.

Anyway, next week I’ll be looking at Knock, Knock, Knockin’ on Hooty’s Door, which is a Hooty episode. Something fun, and entertaining. I’m sure nothing plot relevant will happen then, right? Right?

Stick around if you want to see my analysis of that chaos.

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#rants #literary analysis #literature analysis #what's so special about...?#character analysis #the owl house #toh #toh eda #toh raine #toh raeda #raine whispers #eda clawthorne #lgbtq #nonbinary

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dira333 · 20 hours

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Who's gonna break my heart - Daishou Suguru x Reader

Friends to Strangers to Lovers - Title inspired by my current dopamine song "Dangerously Anxious" by MUNN

Words: over 8k so pace yourself

- 18/17

You know something’s up when Suguru enters the gym with a girl. He’s already late, but the girl’s not wearing any gym clothes. So not a new manager.

She’s one year above you and you’ve seen her around. Yamanaka Mika or something. She’s cute and bile rises up your throat at that thought. No.

“Guys,” Suguru’s grin is genuine, playful, a little proud even, “I want you to meet someone. This is Mika, my girlfriend.”

Sō immediately stands guard beside you. He’s the libero and the second-closest friend you have on this team. Well, he might get bumped up as of today.

“Mika, this is the team.” He introduces them by name and the first-years blush under his praise. The third-years are not impressed, hitting him back with sly remarks that have Suguru blush instead.

Finally, he ends with you.

“And this is my best friend from childhood. I told you about her,” he introduces you and you have to fight everything in you not to snarl at him. Instead, you offer Mika your hand to shake, boiling inside.

She stays around to watch. You keep your distance.

When the first break runs around and you start handing out water bottles she slinks up beside you, asking for Suguru’s. You’re more than glad you don’t have to give it to him, couldn’t stand the risk of touching him right now.

You manage not to talk to him about anything other than volleyball until training ends.

He leaves quickly, aiming to walk Mika home. You stay behind.

“You okay?” Sō asks quietly as you gather your things.

“Mhm,” you nod, “Just peachy. Thanks for asking.”

“I don’t like her,” he promises and you snort. “You don’t have to. If he wants to get himself a girlfriend, that has nothing to do with me. She might be nice, you know. It’s not her fault he’s the way he is.”

Sō nods, but he doesn’t seem convinced. He asks if you want to walk home together but you decline. The quiet will do you good.

- 5/4

“Well, you stink,” Daishou declares with an air of finality. He’s small for a five year old, you’re almost the same height.

You don’t blink. He starts to grow anxious, his legs twiddling as if he has to pee.

“Why aren’t you crying?” He asks, clearly annoyed you don’t react like anyone else he’s met before.

“I was waiting if you’d come up with something better,” you say, “But I should have known you don’t have any good ideas.”

“Hey!” He yelps, “That’s not fair! That was a good insult!”

You snort and his lip starts to quiver.

“No way,” someone whispers behind you, “Is Daishou going to cry? What a whimp.”

“I’m not a whimp!” Daishou declares, eyes already reddening. “Take that back.”

You turn your best lazy stare at the person who had muttered that insult. In less than a second he backs away. You might not be a pretty little girl like your mother wanted, but you know how to keep the boys at bay.

“Come,” you take Daishou’s hand and pull him toward the far edge of the playground, “I’m gonna teach you some cool insults.”

- 18/17

“What do you want?” You ask instead of a greeting. Suguru snorts into the phone.

“Wow, what hellhole did you crawl out today?”

“It’s called a period, thank you very much.” That’s a lie. But he doesn’t like that topic, so it’s always safe.

“Whatever,” he grunts, “I just wanted to ask what you think about Mika.”

“I’m not into her if that’s what you’re asking.”

He gasps before laughing. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“How did that even happen?” You ask, hoping against hope that he doesn’t hear the despair lacing your voice. He needs to believe you don’t care. “Did you pay her to do it?”

“Excuse me?!” Suguru’s affronted. “I don’t have to pay girls- You know I could-” He sighs before starting anew. “She asked me out. Can you believe it? I never had a cute girl like me before.”

That stings. But, you try to comfort yourself, he doesn’t know you like him. So maybe you’re still a cute girl in his head. Just not one he’s interested in.

“Miracles happen every day,” you tell him, working around the clog in your throat, “But I need to get going, okay? I still have homework to do.”

“Oh, okay, sure. I’ll see you in the morning. We can walk to school.”

“Yeah, okay.” You hope he forgets.

He doesn’t.

Suguru’s always been touchy. He was the kid who sat on his mother's lap until she pushed him off and though he made you swear on your life that it didn’t happen, he used to be the one grabbing your hand on the way home from kindergarten.

And it used to be your thing.

How he pulls on your arm when he’s excited or slings his arm around your shoulders, shaking you. How he presses his face against yours, eye against eye, to make sure you really got his joke.

But you can’t help but feel sick now, at the thought of it. Because it doesn’t mean what you thought it meant. And he’s probably going to do it with Mika now.

“Hey,” he pulls on your backpack as a greeting, dragging ice-cold fingertips along your neck. You shiver and he shows a wicked grin. “Still cranky?”

“Was I ever?” You snap back and he cocks his head, tongue slipping out as he musters you. It’s adorable and you hate yourself for thinking so.

“You wanna get chocolate milkshakes after school?”

“I’m fine,” you point out. “And you’re going to walk Mika home, right?”

“Are you jealous?” He asks and your heart stops for a painful moment until he laughs. “Come on, we’ve been best friends forever. I’m sure she’d like some Milkshakes too.”

And it’s like that, for days, and weeks on end.

Everything you used to do together is now something you have to share with Mika.

Until she breaks up with him.

- 9/8

“Can we play family?” You ask, a bit more confident in the coziness of your own bedroom. Your parents make more money than Suguru’s, you can tell. It’s no surprise he likes hanging out at your place more. You prefer it the other way, like the warmth of their kitchen and the noise, always someone around to talk. You like his older sister who teases him relentlessly and his mother who always calls you cute.

But you’ve got better toys so you’re hanging out at your place. And since it’s your place, you call the shots.

“Again?” He asks, but already picks up the Squishmallow you usually use as a kid. You own two and the other one’s sitting next to your bedroom door, playing dog.

“Today,” you declare your newest idea proudly, “I’m going to make a lot of money. I work in finance, like my dad.”

Suguru nods, gently nursing the Squishmallow kid in his arms. “Should I stay home with the kid then?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “You could make some dinner for when I come home. Do you want to have a Hobby, like Mom?”

“Oh yeah,” he grins, “I’m going to be a famous volleyball player on the side. They only have to train and win games, so I have more then enough time to care for our kid and the dog. Do we have a daughter or a son?”

“I don’t know. What do you want?”

“I want a daughter,” he lifts her up, squinting as if he can see a real kid in the soft pink plush. “And she looks like you.”

- 18/17

It’s Sō who tells you. He happened to walk past them on the way to training, couldn’t help but overhear.

“You’re such a bore, all you ever do is focus on club activities,” Sō repeats before you can stop him.

He opens his mouth to ask, but the gym doors open. Suguru looks positively mad.

“What are you doing?” He asks Sō, voice sharp. “This is supposed to be training. Start running!” He turns to you but you don’t even let him open his mouth.

“Suguru,” your voice is cold, clear and cuts through him like always. “Can I talk to you outside for a second?”

He huffs. “What if I don’t want to?”

“Then I’ll have to ask Coach to tell you to talk to me. You want that?”

“No,” he snarls, turning back to where he came from. “Hurry up, I want to train.”

“Warn the others,” you whisper in Sō’s direction and follow Suguru outside.

There’s a group of trees not far from the Gym that’s pretty much secluded.

Suguru swings as if to punch one of the trees but you’re faster, grabbing his elbow and pulling back.

“We still need your hands,” you huff, “Keep it together.”

“I don’t want-”

“I know,” you pull him in, hug him as tight as he allows. “I know.”

You don’t know how long you’re standing like this, Suguru trembling like a leaf. He’s always been a crybaby, even if he’s a little ashamed to admit it.

“Want me to egg her house?” You ask, wishing that just once he’d hug you back.

“No, that’s stupid.”

“I could put eggs into her shoes,” you point out. “Like I did with that girl that bullied you in Junior High.”

He snorts wetly. “That was amazing, but no, I don’t… I just wanted her to like me.” His face is pressed against your shoulder now and you can feel his mouth move against the fabric of your shirt when he talks.

“Maybe I should quit Volleyball.”

“Because some girl told you it was boring? Suguru, you’re better than that.”

“Mika’s not just some girl.”

You swallow thickly, unable to snap back for the first time since you can remember.

If only he’d say such things about you too.

“Well,” You manage after a while, “You’ll just have to win Nationals then. Show her what you’re made of.”

“Yeah,” he nods and pulls back, your sign to let go. “You’re right.”

He wipes his eyes and tries a shaky smile.

“Let’s beat Nekoma to a pulp.”

You roll your eyes. “You and that team. But if it makes you happy, we will.”

- 13/12

“Have you kissed somebody yet?” Suguru asks.

It’s a nice day out and you’re using your huge garden for Volleyball practice.

You don’t like playing it that much, but since Suguru doesn’t have that many male friends to play with, you don’t mind helping him out.

“No, you?”

“No.”

You wait, knowing he’ll eventually explain himself.

“Haizaki said it’s lame if you haven’t kissed anyone yet,” Suguru explains and leaps into the air to spike a ball.

You receive it, albeit a bit clumsily, and the ball tapers off into the shrubbery to your left.

“I told him that I kissed you,” he says instead of moving, and since you don’t really like Volleyball all that much you stay where you are. You have to move enough as it is already.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Suguru’s glaring at the shrubbery now. “Haizaki didn’t believe me at first. I showed him that picture from the festival last year. Now he thinks you’re too cute to be kissing me.”

You snort and drop to the floor, too lazy to keep standing. “Did you tell him how I bit your chin when you tried to put your arm around my shoulder for that picture.”

“No,” now he’s the one snorting. “But I should have.”

“Mhm.”

“Do you wanna kiss?”

You knew that question would come. Still, you don’t really have an answer to it.

You put your head on your knees and pear up at him, blinking through your eyelashes until he blurs into a shapeless blob.

You don’t really care about kissing. Or boys. There’s no one in your life that’s as close to you as Suguru is. You’re friendly with your classmates, but most of what they want to talk about is boring.

Maybe you don’t want to kiss. Or think about it. But Suguru wants it. So you can at least try, right?

“Fine,” you stretch out your hands, ask him to pull you up. As soon as you’re standing you press your lips to his.

It’s awkward, and not at all nice. His mouth is slightly open, a little wet with saliva or maybe sweat and his nose bumps almost painfully into yours.

Suguru squeaks as you move away, grabbing your hands to pull you back in. This time your teeth knock against each other and it hurts even more.

“Maybe,” you say, your face pressed against his shoulder when he’s still not letting you go, “Haizaki also never kissed a girl. Maybe it’s totally overrated and disgusting but he just thought you’d believe him.”

“You think?” Suguru asks, clearly downfallen by this failure. He always just wants to be cool.

“Yeah, you just need to be really confident when you tell him that you’re not interested in that. You know? Like, tell the class that Haizaki’s so bad in school because all he thinks about are girls. If you sound like you mean it, everyone will gang up on Haizaki. I do that too and it works all the time.”

His arms, clammy with sweat, loosen their hold on you. His adams apple is bobbing up and down as he steps back.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he says, voice still a little unsure, “Can we… can we play some more volleyball?”

“If we must,” you groan and his smile flickers back to life, this mischievous teasing thing you’ve grown fond of.

He pinches your side and moves toward the shrubbery.

“Fifty receives or you don’t get any ice-cream.”

“This is my house, you know!”

- 18/17

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

Sō’s eyebrows shoot up but you remain calm.

“Of course,” you say, following Mika out of your classroom and down the hallway into an empty classroom. You think this one’s reserved for Music Club.

“I wanted to ask,” she looks nervously to the side before continuing, “if you and Suguru… Are you… dating?”

You allow Silence to settle before you answer. The question hurts you just as much as it might hurt her to ask and if you can make her suffer a little longer, you will.

“No.”

“Oh,” she looks like she expected a different answer, as if she’s not sure where to go from here.

“Is there anything else?”

“Yes!” She surges forward, boxing you in. “I… I want to apologize.”

“For what?”

“For breaking up.”

“You’re talking to the wrong person then.”

She huffs, crossing her arms now. “Could you be any less helpful?”

“What do you want me to do?” You snap, losing the small of patience you had.

She slinks back, shrinking into herself. “I just… I kinda think it was a stupid decision. But I don’t know. Do you think Suguru liked me? Like, really liked me? You’re his best friend.”

“I don’t know,” you offer helpfully, “I’ve never been in a relationship. I don’t know what really liking someone means.”

And you’re being honest this time, even if she might not believe you. You only know that Suguru doesn’t really like you like that.

“Kaya… my friend… she said that maybe you’re into him and that’s why we broke up.”

You straighten, hands balled to fists.

“You broke up with him,” you hiss, “Don’t you dare pin this on him.”

“I know!” Mika howls, clearly exasperated now. “I know! I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing. That’s why I’m asking you for advice!”

You stiffen, turn toward the window. You can think better when you’re not looking at her, when you can pretend she’s not looking at you.

If someone asks you about this, if someone ever dares to question it, you will deny it with everything you’ve got, but you can’t… you just can’t-

“Just come to our next game,” you tell her, voice tired. “We’re playing against Nekoma for the Qualifiers. He hates that team. You can decide there how you want to go on.” You turn and move for the door. But something just needs to be said, even if you don’t want to speak it into existence.

“And he’s not into me. Suguru, I mean. We’re friends. I just don’t have that many and I’m not used to sharing, that’s all.”

You leave her standing there, don’t turn back to look.

Instead, you go straight to the school nurse, wait until she calls your mum to come and pick you up.

You feel sick to your stomach and even though the Congee she cooks does little to soothe that kind of hurt, you don’t argue against it.

Mika doesn’t ask to speak to you again.

But she’s at your match against Nekoma, you can spot her in the crowd. When she approaches the team after your loss you’re glad that the team moves away in unison.

You don’t want to be there when it happens.

“Maybe you should date someone too,” Sō offers. He’s remarkably calm about their loss. “Kuguri and you are quite similar. You could get along.”

“What?” Kuguri turns to look at you, “I heard my name.”

“You have ears,” you praise him, “Good job.”

He scowls and turns away again.

You close your eyes, lean your back against the wall.

“I think I’m going to focus on school work,” you admit, “Leave the Club.”

Takachiho gasps. “Leave the Club? You?”

“What?” You scowl, “Like you care. You’re leaving this year anyway.”

“Yeah, but the Club needs you!” Seguro sidles up to you, “You’re our Manager.”

“Like you can’t fill your water bottles without me,” you snarl.

“I bet,” Numai mutters darkly, rubbing his chin, “If you’d get your ass on it, you could turn this team around.”

“Is that a dare?” You ask, stepping up to him. “Do you really think you can dare me to do better?”

“Absolutely! I bet you could get rid of these cheap tactics and get us to Nationals without Suguru interfering.”

Hiroo snorts. “You do know, Numai, that our dear Manager is worse than our Captain when it comes to trashtalking, right?”

Your smile grows as Numai’s flickers and fades.

“But,” he starts just as someone clears his throat behind you.

“Something going on?” Suguru asks.

Looking at him feels like a punch to the throat. You can tell that he’s happy without him having to say it. Mika’s nowhere to be seen but it still feels as if she’s wrapped around him.

The team lunges forward.

If anyone notices that you’re not taking part in their playful attack, they don’t address it.

You sneak away undisturbed.

Seguro’s named Captain a few days later.

Mika must have talked to Suguru because he’s not dragging you with them anymore. And while you had thought that there could be nothing worse than being the third wheel on one of their dates, being forgotten is so so so much worse.

School is boring you. Training is torture. You need something to occupy your mind.

- 18/17

“All alone?” Someone settles heavily on the chair next to you.

You don’t have to look up. You’d know that honeysmoothed voice anywhere.

“Not interested, roosterhead.”

Kuroo chuckles softly. “Don’t bite, Snakelet. I just want to make some friendly conversation.”

“Sure, sure. So you’re not here to scope out the competition?” You don’t take your eyes off the game.

Below your seats the game is reaching it’s Finale.

“Which one do you want?” Kuroo asks, mouth so close to your ear his breathe washes over your face. You don’t flinch.

“If I had to guess you want the Captain. He’s got an amazing defense. And with your stupid First-Year you’ll need some good defense.”

“Now now, don’t insult Lev like that.” Kuroo stretches, yawns and rests his arm on your shoulder. “He’s even dumber than you make him out to be.”

You can’t help but laugh at that comment. At least he’s self-aware.

“Go on,” you nudge your elbow into his side, “Tell me who I’m picking.”

“You want both Outside Hitters. They are both tall, broad shouldered and have a lot of energy and drive, so you think that would balance out your lethargic teammates. But that’s a risky move. One of them moves like he’s chugged ten cans of Monster before the game and the other feels like this game is the beginning of his murder-spree.”

“I need someone with Stamina,” you agree, “If I can get both of them, I will. If I can get only one of them, I’ll take Mr. Murderspree.”

“Good.” Kuroo grins. “I don’t want our games to get boring.”

You roll your eyes. “They’re not our games, Roosterhead. You’re graduating.”

“Ah,” he pinches your chin. “But I’m still watching, you know. From the shadows.”

You snort. “Sure. If that gives you closure.” You get up. “You can stay here if you want, I need to get going. First one to get a student to sign on your team wins.”

“Loser pays the drinks,” he calls after you.

You’re not sure how it happened or when. You don’t even know what to call this.

Suguru is your best friend, so Kuroo can’t be it. Kuroo is Suguru’s enemy and you’re pretty sure you don’t feel the same way about him, so he can’t be that either.

You’d call him an annoying cousin you’re not related to if these conversations wouldn’t sound so much like flirting nowadays.

In some weird way you think he understands you, or at least how your brain works. He’s pointed out, often enough to remember, that you remind him of Kenma.

And you’d argue against it, but he’s never once insulted Suguru in front of you. Talking shit about Kenma feels like disrespecting that truce. Even if you feel a lot smarter than a guy who’s cosplaying a bowl of pudding.

“Congratulations,” Kuroo sets your coffee down in front of you before taking a seat, “Both Outside Hitters and the Setter, I’m impressed.”

“He’s more of a glorified Pinch Server, but thank you.” You drag your spoon through the foam in your cup, destroying the artwork the barista created. You’re not in the mood for little foam hearts today. “How’s your new Captain doing?”

“Terrible, but that’s to be expected.”

“Same.” You let your eyes wander through the café only to get caught on something outside. You know that jacket, that haircut, that smi-

“Everything okay?” Kuroo peers down at you.

“Dropped my earring,” you claim, patting the floor. Outside Suguru kisses Mika goodbye and turns with one last wave of his arm before jogging of.

You get back into your seat, ignore the amused twinkle in Kuroo’s eyes and dare to think that you’ve got out of this alive - until someone appears next to you.

“Oh, hi!” Mika blinks with a smile, “Suguru just left, what a surprise! I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Likewise,” you press out.

“Hi, I’m Kuroo,” Kuroo offers her his hand, “You’re Daishou’s girlfriend, right?”

“Yeah,” her smile brightens, “I’m sorry, I don’t know you, are you from Nohebi?”

“No,” he shakes his head, but doesn’t disclose his own school. You don’t flatter yourself with thinking it’s because of your glaring. “Just visiting a friend.”

“Oh,” Mika rests a hand on her chest, “Sorry, I didn’t know- of course, I’ll leave you to it.” She all but flutters away. You want to leave.

Kuroo, however, leans over the table, grinning like the literal Chesire Cat.

“She thinks we’re dating.”

“I don’t care what she thinks,” you snarl.

“Oh?” His eyebrows lift to where you can’t see them. “Ohoh?”

“Not like that,” you groan, “Get your head out of the gutter.”

“What? I could date you,” he twirls his spoon between his fingers, “Don’t all girls want an older boyfriend?”

“I think it’s more about wanting a smarter boyfriend,” you point out, “So I doubt we’d fit that scheme.”

“You wound me,” he huffs playfully, “But if you ever want to make someone jealous you can call me up anytime.”

“Thanks, I already hate that idea.”

- 18/17

It’s a shame you cannot skip graduation.

It’s not even your own but you know Suguru would never let you live it down.

So you force yourself to smile in every picture, pretending you don’t see the second button of his blazer missing.

Ever since Kindergarten he’s been one year above you. Ever since Kindergarten, you went out for ice cream afterwards, you paying for his on his graduation and him paying for yours the next year.

This year he asks if he can bring Mika along. You pay for him, he pays for her and when it’s time for you to pick your own ice cream all you want to do is go home and sleep.

But you can’t, so you pick the first flavor you see, not wanting to ruin the taste of your favorite ice cream with this awful memory.

“This is a cute spot,” Mika announces when you’ve found a spot outside under an oak tree, “We should come here for a date. What do you think?” She addresses you all of a sudden, “We could do a double date.”

Suguru chokes on his ice cream.

“Double date?” He asks. “Is there something I don’t know?”

Mika’s eyes widen. “Oh, was it a secret?”

“No,” you grind through your teeth, “It’s not a secret because I don’t have a boyfriend. Or date anyone. I just met someone I know while I was scouting new players.”

“Who?” He asks, brows furrowed.

“He’s got dark hair,” Mika explains, “Kinda messy like Kuguri-”

“Kuroo?” Suguru bristles, eyes turning wide. “You went out with Kuroo?”

Something turns to ice inside you.

“Yes,” you say, “I went out with him. Who cares?”

“He’s-”

“The Ex-Captain of a team that didn’t win Nationals. Wow. How outstanding.”

“My arch-enemy!” Suguru thunders, “And you know that.”

“Please,” you huff, “He barely knows you exist.”

“Take that back!”

“No.”

“I didn’t think-” Mika starts but you shut her up with a glare.

“I don’t butt into your relationship,” you clarify, “So you don’t get to butt into mine.”

“You’re dating-?” Suguru gasps for air, “Kuroo?”

“Does it matter? No. I was here to celebrate your graduation not to discuss my lovelife.”

“If you’re dating Kuroo we can no longer be friends,” Suguru bites out and you nod, get up and throw your ice cream in the trash.

“Fine. If that’s how you want it, I’ll accept. Goodbye.”

You march away, don’t look back. You don’t want Suguru to see that your eyes start to water as the ice inside you slowly melts.

You: If your house gets egged this week, Suguru thinks we’re dating.

Roosterhead: Oh? Buy me Dinner first.

You: I’m not dating you.

Roosterhead: I’m heartbroken. You good though?

You: I will be after we demolish Nekoma.

Roosterhead: Looking forward to you trying.

- 19/18

Seguro and Yamamoto are shaking hands but all you care about are the glowing eyes of their setter who rest on you, unblinking.

You’ve lost this time, but you’re not giving up. It’s only a Training Match after all and as soon as you’ve figured out how to balance out your team, you’ll be fine.

Still, it sucks that you’ve lost to Kenma. Of all people.

“Hey,” Sō nudges you with his elbow, nodding toward the door. “We’ve got a visitor.”

He didn’t need to tell you. You spotted Suguru half an hour ago but decided to ignore him.

The last two months have been filled with somewhat strained communication, mostly held up by Mika who’s trying her best to mend a friendship you no longer believe in.

He’s chosen Mika over you. You’ll be able to live with that, someday.

“Hey,” someone else speaks up from your other side. You turn to Kenma, who’s looking the other way.

“Yeah?”

“Kuroo mentioned something… about you…”

“So?”

He huffs. “I think I have an idea you’d be interested in.”

You’ll never admit that you only agree to buy into Bouncing Ball Corp because Suguru is watching you, but in all honesty, you’d probably agree to selling fridges in the arctic if it buys you a few more minutes away from him.

It doesn’t matter in the end. He stays until everyone else has left, hands buried in his pockets, nodding at the players that know him, rolling his eyes at those who don’t.

“What’s going on?” You ask when you’ve run out of reasons to avoid him, the gym empty besides the two of you.

“Can’t I come see my best friend?”

“I don’t know, are they in the room with us?”

He huffs.

“I mean you.”

“Could have fooled me.”

You turn away, take a few steps just to put space where there used to be none.

Suguru calls out your name. There’s something in his voice, a softer, more vulnerable tone, that makes you turn around. His shoulders are down and he’s staring at the ground and you know, just by looking at him, that he lost.

You don’t know if it’s a game or a thing, a person or an idea, but there’s something to it, the fact that he comes to you for comfort, that soothes some of the hurt.

“What did you do now, you fool?” You ask and maybe there’s something in your voice too, because he takes a few steps and pulls you in, rests his head against your shoulder where no one can see if he cries or not.

“Coach kicked me off the starting Line-Up,” he admits, “I’m just a pinch server.”

“So?” You ask, “You were a Pinch Server when you started at Nohebi. Those things take time.”

“Yeah,” he croaks, “But I also failed my first exam.”

“Mhm,” you hum, “Math?”

“Yeah.”

“What else?”

He huffs. “Who says-”

“What else, Suguru?”

“I can’t get a job. Like, I’ve tried but the only shops that might take me are the fast food joints around College and the hours there are terrible. And I need to train.”

You sigh. He hasn’t changed at all.

“Have you talked to Mika about it?” You ask and you know your voice sounds a little condescending right now, but he deserves it, right?

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want her to know,” he huffs, tensing as you try to push him away. “Please?”

“I’m not your manager any longer,” you point out. “You’re old enough to get yourself out of the mess you got yourself into. I’m not here to-”

“Please,” he repeats, but there’s a different tone to it now, “This is not why I came, okay? I just… you always know- Ugh, you just understand me, okay? I need to talk to someone who understands. Please?”

“Fine,” you let your bag slip from your shoulder, “You carry my bag and I’ll listen.”

And it’s a tale as old as time, you think, as you walk next to him, almost knocking your hip into his from.

Suguru’s not stupid. He just gets too much in his head about how things should be like until he can no longer see the big picture. And as much as he enjoys dishing out, he cannot take a hit for the life of him.

“So?” You ask when you reach the cross roads that separate your houses, “Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “I- I wanted to say… If you want to date Kuroo, that’s fine.”

You balk. “What?”

“Yeah,” he grimaces, “I mean, I don’t like him, but if you think he’s decent enough…”

“I’m not dating him.”

“Kenma then?”

“Just shut up, okay?” You snarl. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not- I don’t care- You know, let’s just say you won’t mind and forget about this, okay?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I want to talk about this. You’re my best friend. I’m sorry I neglected you. You’re doing a good job with the team, better than I did when I was Captain last year. And Mika… she’s sorry too. This is my idea, coming here and talking to you, but I know she feels bad too. She’s just… I think she got a little excited at the idea of us going on double dates. But it wasn’t right putting it out like that.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you repeat, too stubborn to give in, “But I appreciate it. What are you going to do now?”

“Oh, study for math, keep looking for jobs,” he huffs, dragging his hands through his hair.

“I meant today,” you snort and he blushes awkwardly.

“Then say it like that, idiot. You wanna play some volleyball? I have the time.”

“No,” you shake your head, “But I could use some math practice.”

- 19/18

It’s weird, still.

Suguru makes an effort to come over once a week. It helps that you can give him pointers in his math studies, but it’s not the way it was before.

He’s too touchy for a guy with a girlfriend. And though you’ve got your heart on a tight leash you can tell it’s much too easy to get lost in this until something reminds you of the truth.

So you do what everyone would do in your situation.

You ask Kuguri out.

It goes about as well as one would expect.

Sure, you could ask Kuroo. You’re pretty sure he’d do it, but you don’t want to ruin a perfectly fine friendship - if you could call it that.

Soon matches and exams turn up back to back and all you see of Suguru are the short messages he sends whenever he remembers.

He doesn’t forget your graduation, but ice cream just doesn’t taste the same way it used to.

You wish you could have stopped this ritual when it was still fun.

- 20/19

If someone would ask you for the name of your best friend, you’re no longer sure what you’d answer.

There’s Suguru, who you rarely talk to, yet know better than yourself most days.

There’s Sō, who’s taking the same Classes as you, who you’ve shared quite a few wins and failures with since attending Nohebi.

And then there’s Kuroo, who’s an absolute pain in the ass, but at least he’s reliable.

“I want to get paid for this,” you tell him when you hand over the CD. “I spent a while analyzing all that footage.”

“Ah, you love doing it,” Kuroo teases, moving to ruffle your hair, “Besides you always bet on Bokuto. I’m just helping you get your money through that.”

“I do not,” you grind through your teeth. You hate him sometimes.

“Do to,” he jokes, turning when something catches your attention. “The Barista has the hots for you.”

You snort. “Yeah, sure.”

“Absolutely.” Kuroo gestures with his hands before grinning. “See? He wants your number.”

“What?” You squeak, turning to look for yourself. The guy isn’t bad-looking at all. Maybe a bit less athletic than you’re used to. And he’s waving at you, gesturing in a way that can really only mean one thing.

“Well, I’m not giving it to him.”

“Why not?” Kuroo leans back, eyes twinkling. “Would you rather go out with me? Oh, Snakelet, I’m honored.”

“Fine,” you bite out, “I’ll get his.”

Kuroo’s still grinning when you come back, leaning over the table to look at your phone.

“Ah, so that’s his name. Now, I’m waiting. Text him.”

“Why?”

“Because I won’t believe you otherwise.”

“You’re sick in the head.”

“Mhm, you too. Now chop chop, we don’t have all day.”

If you say that your first relationship only exists because of Kuroo, you mean it.

Moriwaka isn’t all that bad. He might just be exactly what you need.

He studies Psychology, works part-time as a Barista, and collects Star Trek memorabilia, which means you have literally nothing in common and so much more to talk about.

And it’s nice, how he never once asks about Suguru - they’ve only met briefly - or Volleyball - he doesn’t like Sports - or your parents - he’s not into Finance.

He doesn’t push you either.

You don’t like being touched? That’s fine with him, he’s happy sidling up to you on the way to the Cinema - he bought two tickets for the newest Star Trek movie.

All in all, it feels a little more like having a new best friend, just that Moriwaka likes to tell you how good you’re looking every single day.

- 20/19

“I’m going to use the bathroom,” you say, getting up from the Couch.

“I’m pausing the movie,” Moriwaka announces, “This is the best part.”

You’d probably disagree with him if you cared enough, but it’s fine. Star Trek is important to him and he never once complains when you make him rewatch a Volleyball Game.

The doorbell rings just as you close the door behind you.

“That’s probably the Pizza,” he announces. You yawn.

The window doesn’t close properly but you don’t care, no one can see you pee anyway.

“What are you doing here?” Moriwaka’s voice floats up.

“I’m looking for someone.” You freeze, the voice too familiar. What’s Suguru doing here?

He says your name.

“Ah, she’s not here.” You can hear Moriwaka, your heart thumping awkwardly in your chest. Why is Suguru looking for you if he could just call you?

“No, no, I’m sure she’s here.”

“So what? She doesn’t want to see you.”

You fumble the door lock trying to get out. What’s Moriwaka doing?

It doesn’t take long to get out of the apartment and down the stairs, but it feels like half an eternity.

The door is open and you can hear Moriwaka before you can see him.

“I’ve seen your messages,” he announces, voice weirdly cold, “You only call to unload your baggage on her. You’re a pathetic, wet rag of a man.”

“And you’re any better?” Suguru snaps back, “You have no idea what’s between me and-”

“I’m her boyfriend,” Moriwaka announces just as you slide out the door behind him.

Suguru’s face turns perfectly blank at your sight, but Moriwaka isn’t lucky enough to get the hint.

“I’m not allowing you to talk to her.”

“I don’t think that’s your decision,” you tell him coolly.

He turns, surprise evident on his face. But no guilt.

“Listen, I’m just trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need your protection.”

He scoffs. “What? So you’re just going to let him drag you down again? He probably just lost another game. Or his girlfriend ran off or whatever.”

Suguru flinches. The breakup happened a few months ago, but he’s always been bad at taking hits.

“It doesn’t matter,” you tell Moriwaka snidely, “He’s my best friend. You don’t have any say in that.”

“You’re just in love with him,” he spits out, “Right? That’s why you’re pushing me away all the time. You don’t really want to date me, you’re just passing time with me hoping he’ll suddenly turn around and be interested in you.”

Suguru steps forward, fists balled but you’re a little faster, always more inclined to use your tongue instead of your fists.

“Go,” you tell him, your calm facade your biggest weapon, “Your movie’s waiting. I’m sure Captain Whatever has some inspirational quotes for you to flirt with next time.”

Moriwaka huffs, but he’s not dumb enough to take the bait. Or maybe he doesn’t care enough either.

“Go, be unhappy if that’s what you want.” He slams the door shut behind him.

The night is warm, the air around you humid and heavy.

Suguru’s looking up at a nearby street lamp, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

“You were looking for me?” You ask, not ready to deal with the can of worms Moriwaka just opened.

“Yeah, I…” He clears his throat. “I got… I got a deal. For the Yotsuya Motor Spirits. I know it’s only Division 2 but they’ll let me finish College while I play.”

“Oh, Congratulations,” you step forward, not really sure what you want to do, just knowing that you want to be closer.

“Thanks,” he clears his throat again, “I was… I was talking to my parents about it and when they hung up all I could think about was that I wanted to tell you. We haven’t… we haven’t talked in a while, right?”

“Yeah.” You want to ask him who’s fault that is, but really, isn’t it your fault too? After all you were the one who fell in love in the first place.

“How’d you know I was here?” You ask when he’s fighting for words, tongue slipping out between his lips as he thinks. It’s a habit he’s had since you’ve known him and altough you’ve tried to hate it, it just endears him even more to you.

“Ah,” He drags a hand through the hair at the back of his head, “I was at your place but you weren’t there. And I figured you might be out with friends, but Sō said you’re out with your boyf- some guy but he doesn’t know where that is.”

“So?” You did not miss the way he stumbled over the term boyfriend. Your heart’s beating too fast to be healthy, but there’s a smug grin on Suguru’s face now, a look that tells you this story is going into a different direction now.

“You’ve been posting pictures of your favorite drink lately and there’s only one shop in Tokyo who makes it exactly the way you like it, so I thought I’d try over here. Remembered the dude’s name too, can you believe it?”

You laugh. He’s unbelievable, so proud of himself and his most basic deduction skills.

“You did great,” you tell him, “You wanna talk a walk? I need a bathroom and I’m not going back up there.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” he ushers you along, “There’s a 7-Eleven down the street.”

And it feels like yesterday, hips almost knocking into each other, walking down the street.

It feels like you’re six years old again and Suguru’s walking you home from school, his hand clutching yours because even though he’s older, he’s a bit more scared of the world.

It feels like you’re thirteen, only beginning to understand that some boys are gross and some boys are cute and why your heart flutters softly when Suguru’s tongue peaks out whenever he’s lost in thought.

It feels like you’re seventeen, heart heavy yet ready to leap, calculating all the ways a confession could go wrong - and the one way it could go right - only to miss your chance.

“He’s right, you know,” Suguru points out in the too bright lights of the store when you come back from the bathroom.

He’s staring at the cut up fruits in the fridge and maybe he’s thinking what to get for a late night smoothie, but maybe he’s thinking the same thing you’re thinking about.

How all 7-Eleven’s are kinda the same and if they are, is this a place out of time? A place you can stay in without getting older, without the consequence of change?

“I really am a pathetic,wet rag of a man.”

“Hmm,” you make, stepping so close to him your shoulder brushes his. If you’d be a little braver, you’d take his hand.

If you could have a chance to get stuck in time, you’d take it if it meant being with him, hands not quite touching, bare faces reflected in the clear doors of an oversized fridge.

“I swear I’m not doing this because I’m lonely,” there’s a wetness to his voice that your ears are used to, grown fond of, even. The back of his pointer finger touches the back of your hand and his skin is warm and a shiver races down your back.

“And I should hate myself for breaking up what you had with that guy, but-”

You want to turn, look directly at him instead of his reflection in the glass, but you’re frozen in place, heart thundering so loud he must be able to hear it.

“I’ve had a crush on you since… since way before I asked to practice kissing. You’re the coolest person I’ve ever known, and I… I’m so tired of pretending that someone else can compare. I’m sorry.” He whispers the last words, hiccups softly when your hand grabs his, squeezes as tight as you can.

You’re going to cry any second, you know, but you don’t want to, even if it’s him you’re with.

You don’t want any tears to blurr your sight when you can look at him, see him, face flushed and eyes watery, all 179,5cm of pathetic, wet rag of a man.

“Do you want to play family?” You ask, voice a little rough, eyes a little watery too. “We can even get a dog.”

He smiles so wide you can barely see his eyes.

But when he leans in and kisses you, nose softly bumping yours and chuckles ringing through the air, you have to disagree with your younger self.

Kissing isn’t overrated at all. If anything, it’s probably underrated.

- 21/20

“Oh no, we have to play against you guys?” Bokuto’s voice’s too loud to ignore even in the bustle of a packed stadion.

Suguru bristles next to you but relaxes a little when your elbow digs into his side.

“Like they’re going to give you any problems,” Kuroo’s voice is smooth and sticky, clinging to your ears like caramel to the teeth. “Right?”

“Kuroo,” Suguru drawls, “You’re here too?”

“Well of course,” his grin reminds you of the famed Chesire Cat and your arm slings around Suguru’s waist, pulling him in.

He stumbles a bit, turning to look at you. Surprise, joy and then deep adoration wash over his face in a way you’ll never grow tired off. Suguru’s hand slides into the back pocket of your jeans and you know, would there be less people around, he’d be kissing you too.

“Aww, cute,” Kuroo sings, “You didn’t hear anything I just said.”

“Should we?” You ask, “If I want to hear an asshole talk I can just fart.”

Suguru snickers even as Bokuto howls in the background, clearly excited to have a new insult to try on someone else.

But Kuroo wouldn’t be Kuroo if you could best him with one lame insult.

“Funny,” he smiles, “You’re managing today too?”

“No,” you shake your head, “Just here for Suguru.”

“And we’re going to win,” Suguru declares, “MSBY has no chance against the Yotsuya Motor Spirits.”

He says it with conviction, but you know the chances of him winning are low. MSBY have been rising to the top ever since they drafted Miya Atsumu right out of highschool. Now they’ve got Bokuto too. If they’d gotten Sakusa Kiyoomi too like they’d been planning for months, you’d bought the consolation cake already but at least he’s insistent on finishing College before he starts playing professionally.

It doesn’t matter, though.

You’re not with Suguru because he’s got the best chance at winning the game and he knows it. And no matter the outcome of this game, there’s already a small velvet box at home that he thinks you don’t know about.

Like he could keep any secrets from you.

- 27/26

“That’s all,” you cut off your assistant’s questioning, “Everything else has to wait until tomorrow.”

“I understand. Have a good evening.”

“You too.” You cut the call and park the car, thinking for the umpteenth time that you need to start looking into the possibility of hiring a driver. Some of these calls get too intense to be held at the wheel of a vehicle.

There’s a Volleyball on the front lawn and a chewed-up dog toy. You drag your keycard through the scanner and stifle a yawn as the door opens.

“I’m home,” you call out over the pitter-patter of feet.

There’s Princess, your husky-mix and Kuroo, the little black Frenchie that his namesake gifted you at your wedding.

“Kitchen!” You hear a voice over the Princess howling. She’s always so excited to have you back home.

“Hey,” you can’t help smiling as you step into the kitchen, both dogs hot on your heels. Suguru’s standing at the stove, Hime tied to his front. Only a tuft of her dark hair is peaking out and you lean in to kiss him first and then the top of her head.

“How was it?” He asks, “Tired?”

“Extremely so, but everything’s going well. Even Dad is impressed. How was your day?”

“Mh, no, you’ve got to tell first,” he insists, pulling you into his side, “Because I wanna hear your voice a bit more before I tell you about the absolutely disgusting diaper change I had to go through today.”

You laugh. “Okay, so you remember Mamushi, our Client?”

“Mamushi with the thick eyebrows or Mamushi who slurps every beverage?”

“Slurper Mamushi.”

“Okay, I’m following.”

“So, this morning I got an email from him where he claims that we’re charging him too much. He gave us two options: Reduce the cost or dismiss the contract altogether.”

“Oh, that’s spicy. What did you do?”

“Well, remember how I had to cut our lunch call short? I met up with him for coffee right after and got down to business and you won’t believe it: he settled on a different contract that actually costs him more but he’s happy with it. Apparently he doesn’t like how it’s done nowadays and the old times were far better.”

“Amazing,” Suguru drops a kiss on your temple, “I would love to see the face of this man when he realizes how stupid he is. You’re a genius.”

You giggle.

“How was your day, then? Apart from the diaper catastrophe?”

“Well, I regret to inform you that Hime already has an admirer. Koji’s head over heels for her. I had to threaten him with bodily harm to get her back.”

“Oh, is that your libero?” You think, “The one with the Iro?”

“Yep, he died it pink last week.”

“Well, pink suggests he’s sensible. If Hime likes him too-”

“Don’t say that!” Suguru’s hands come down to cover Hime’s ears, “My princess isn’t going to date anyone until she’s at least thirty.”

“Mhm,” you lift your eyebrows, “And how are you going to explain to her that we had her way before we turned thirty?”

A blush works its way up his cheeks and you lean forward to sink your teeth into the flushed skin only to press your lips onto it right after.

“Love you,” you tell him, voice a bit raspy with emotion.

Sometimes, in moments like this, you can barely believe that this is how your life played out.

tagging: @lees-chaotic-brain @daisy-room @missalienqueen @marti-mp4 @itsmippe @jus-jazzy @wavesofchaos @moonlit-mizukage

#my writing #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #daishou suguru #daishou x reader #daishou fluff #daishou #nohebi #nohebi team

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uriekukistan · 3 days

Note

Hope your day or night is going well!! ✨

Okay, top five Megumi lines/scenes?

ahhh thank you i hope yours is as well!! and thank you for the ask!!

im in the car rn so some of these i couldn’t track down the specific chapter/page bc i dont wanna use all my data :’)

1 - “i’m not like itadori, i have no problem earning 100 points for myself.” or something along that line

one of the things that fascinates me the most about megumi is the way he places value on lives, and this line is just so cool to me. he’d said before this that he saves people unequally, but this shows just how far that goes. he’ll kill anywhere from 20-100 random people so tsumiki and itadori, the two people he cares about and thinks are worth saving more than anyone else, don’t have to get their hands dirty, and their lives hold more value to him than others. it’s also so interesting to me because of the way megumi doesn’t consider himself a good person like tsumiki or itadori, and therefore doesn’t really see himself as worth saving, so it’s just a necessary burden he has to carry as the “bad” person for those two. also add that in w this line, and im on the floor

2 - his battle vs sukuna at the detention facility/“i’m not a hero, i’m a jujutsu sorcerer”

another moment where we get an insight into his ideas on good/bad people and who deserves saving, can you tell i love this aspect of his character? i mean, he’s about to sacrifice himself for itadori to live (hopefully), even though he literally met the guy two weeks ago, because he thinks he’s a good person who deserves saving. it’s the first insight we get into megumi’s thought process, and this was really the moment that made me start paying attention to him more. i also love how he kept a softer expression on his face and didn’t cry until after itadori died, like he didnt want itadori to feel sad or guilty in his final moments im SICK also the fact that he took the name-tag to that guys mom even though he didnt have an interest in saving him, like he was paying a respect to itadori….ugh…anyway yeah i love dissecting the way he values life.

3 - “so start by saving me, itadori”

see as an itafushist of course this had to make the list like this whole chapter has me on the floor but anyway aside from that, i love thinking about this scene because the words he’s saying seem so contrary to how he thinks? like he’s asking to be saved but he doesn’t think he’s worth saving? so it needs an extra layer of consideration. i feel like he really said this more to motivate yuuji (and save tsumiki) than actually wanting to be saved himself. plus the “it’s our fault, don’t be selfish and give up all alone” aaahhahahsj i just love this moment i feel like it shows his character very well….when the idgafer actually very much gaf….

4 - his first domain expansion

hellooo this was so sick and cool and badass of him like i dont think there’s anything i need to say for this. huge character development moment for him too. add this with the simple domain he had in dagon’s domain + the part in the culling games arc where he literally hides himself in the shadows……he’s crazy powerful and i dont wanna hear anything abt it! if u were traumatized like that you’d be curled up on the floor too

5 - “if you die, i’ll kill you” both times

again as an itafushist i couldnt not include this….of course there’s implications for megumi’s character as well but i feel like there’s only so much i can talk about his moral code in one post yk? but yeah i think it just shows how much the people he cares about matter to him

also bonus i love just any culling games megumi, his determination to save tsumiki and make it so itadori doesnt have to kill anyone makes him grow so much as a character and as a sorcerer, i love it sm

thank u for the ask! any excuse to yap about megumi 🤞

#me when i queue an ask game and then forget #i have no idea what’s in my queue tbh #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk spoilers #megumi fushiguro #itafushi

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starsurface · 3 days

Note

I had an idea for an angsty one! Padded babyspace MK1 Liu getting homesick for his old timeline and missing Dada, while being ultra clingy to Rai Rai?

And maybe the cozy flip side of that, MK11 babyspace Liu being ultra clingy-cuddly and snuggly with Dada Raiden?

So sorry for how late this post is!!!

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

CG Raiden w/ Clingy Babyspace Liu Kang MK1 Hcs

🌩️ Sometimes Liu Kang gets really, and i mean really, bad memories of his old timeline

🌟 ^ These moments make him feel incredibly icky, physically and mentally

🌩️ He doesn’t wanna get up, he deosn’t want to do his Godly duties, he just wants to hang out with his Lao, or cuddle his Kitana, or show his Dada his new pretty picture, so he just kinda rots in bed, feeling too little and unwilling to getup and face the changes he made

🌟 Raiden’s the one to come check on him, since he had to personally train with Liu Kang for the Tournament and Liu didn’t show

🌩️ He wasn’t expecting to see Liu hiding in bed with his old monkey plush, face full of tears and deep in babyspace

🌟 This isn’t the first time Liu Kang’s had a bad memory that causes him to regress, but it’s definitely been the worst so far

🌩️ Normally he'll rush to Raiden (or Kung Lao, depends on the memory), trying to pretend that it's his Lord Raiden (which Raiden will softy, but very firmly, shoot down)

🌟 But right now, Liu’s tiny tiny, and even when Raiden tries to shoot him down, he’ll just shake his head and call him Dada on repeat, as if he’s wishing it was him instead

🌩️ It really breaks Raiden’s heart seeing him like this, so distraught and upset, knowing he can’t really do anything to help other than be there for him, and that he technically isn’t even the one that Liu Kang wants anyways

🌟 He’ll gently coax Liu Liu out of bed, getting him into a nice bath to help him feel less icky

🌩️ It does help!! Atleast a little bit. While he’s upset about having to put his monkey plushie away, the bubbles make him very happy (also helps him not as physically icky)

🌟 Raiden knows how deep Liu is in babyspace, and he’ll put him into some padding, which Liu doesn’t actually fuss too much about

🌩️ He’s more fussy about the fact that Raiden has to put him down and he can’t stay in Raiden’s arms while Raiden changes him into something soft

🌟 But afterwards Raiden will sit Liu on his lap and brush his hair and it makes Liu very happy and a bit sleepy

🌩️ Raiden is not allowed to do anything without Liu Kang

🌟 Liu Kang has to be attached to his hip at all times, or else he’ll start fussing again

🌩️ The two spend the rest of the time outside, surprisingly

🌟 Mostly because Liu Kang wants to play outside, like he use to with his old Dada, but also because outside makes him feel better

🌩️ He’ll also wear Raiden’s hat, mostly because it’s like his Dada’s hat!!

🌟 Raiden doesn’t mind his hat being stolen, but he’ll still try to remind Liu Kang that he isn’t his Lord Raiden, he’s just Raiden

🌩️ Which causes another storm of crying because Liu Kang knows it’s not his Dada, but still really misses him

🌟 He does know that trying to pretend that Raiden is his Dada isn’t healthy or okay either, and he can’t make Raiden be something he’s not, even if it wasn’t a fate he ever wished for

🌩️ Raiden’s very patient about it all though, like really patient, and he’ll just let Liu Kang cry and babble to him, he’s hard a hard enough day as it is, and clearly this is more of a not regressed conversation to have with him

🌟 They spend the rest of the day decorating Raiden’s hat with stickers!! Or one of his extras!!

🌩️ It sounds a bit funny, but Lord Raiden would never let Liu mess with his hat, and this Raiden really doesn’t mind as long at Liu’s having fun and giggling instead of sobbing his eyes out

🌟 The regret Lord Liu Kang has about the whole situation when he’s bigger isn’t very fun, but Raiden’s always been a patient person with him, so it does end all okay

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

CG Lord Raiden w/ Clingy Babyspace Liu Kang MK11 Hcs

⛈️ You thought you wouldn’t get more angst?

❤️‍🔥 WRONG! Think again! >:)

⛈️ You want to know a time that Liu Kang was ultra clingy-cuddle and snuggling with Lord Raiden?

❤️‍🔥 After the tournament

⛈️ During tornomant training

❤️‍🔥 When he was overworked and over stressed about having to win, about the aftermath of winning, where he was Champion and had all the pressure of being Champion

⛈️ It makes him tiny, small, and needing his Dada near him

❤️‍🔥 And Lord Raiden isn’t any better, he feels terrible for having Liu Kang slip so deep into babyspace because of his new training

⛈️ Or when Liu Kang starts having accidents from nightmares about the tornoment

❤️‍🔥 Okay I’ll be nice now-

⛈️ Liu Kang’s always on his best behavior around Raiden, especially while regressed (have you seen his face when he is with and without lord Raiden? He turns mishevious the moment he isn’t there)

❤️‍🔥 Liu Kang likes to show Lord Raiden all his pretty pictures, or the castle he just built, or anything that will get Lord Raiden to acknowledge and praise him

⛈️ Not that Raiden doesn’t already praise him!! He just likes Dada’s attention (he’d probably be a bit of a tattle tail if it meant that Raiden was happy with him, especially if he’s littler)

❤️‍🔥 You know what gets Liu Kang out of trouble when Dada finds out he misbehaves? Puppy eyes

⛈️ Normally they don’t work at all, but Liu doesn’t like it when Raien’s mad at him, and that’s when he gets realyl cuddly with him (half to get out of trouble, the other half because he wants comfort)

❤️‍🔥 ^ This is mostly when he’s more ina a younger headspace, toddler Liu Kang has a bit more spite to him

⛈️ Baby Liu loves cuddles, especially Dada’s cuddles

❤️‍🔥 Raiden’s very tall, and he’s had a habit of making a lot of regressors feel small by his hugs

⛈️ Is Lord Raiden good at cuddles? . . . It’s like hugging a brick at times

❤️‍🔥 But that’s okay!! It just means that Liu can just cling to him and hang off him like a monkey!!

⛈️ Raiden would never admit it, but he also adores Liu Kang’s cuddles (he’s like a personal heater)

❤️‍🔥 Sometimes if Liu’s feeling really clingy but Raiden has important Godly work, he’ll let himwear his hat!!

⛈️ Liu Kang loves wearing Raiden’s hat!! He’s just like Dada now!!

❤️‍🔥 Although if Liu Kang can . . . he might follow Raiden to wherever he has to go do important big kid work (maybe he can color in the corner . . . or Raiden can just skip the entire event!! :D)

⛈️ Clingy Liu’s hard to get off Raiden, especially if everyone else is busy or Liu just really wants his Dada

❤️‍🔥 Raiden’s not against having Liu Kang come with him, but he does find it quite entertaining when Liu Kang ‘secretly’ (very loudly and giggly) follows him to his next meeting

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

I dunno why but I was struggling writing this one. Hope you guys enjoyed it though!! :D

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nicnacsnonsense · 2 days

Text

The thing about Willow’s magic addiction is that magic both is and isn’t the problem.

Compare Willow erasing Tara’s memory of their fight to Willow harassing Oz with her apologies for cheating on him even after he told her he wanted some space. In a lot of ways these two things are substantively the same. They are both Willow having a conflict with her partner where she is so focused on “fixing it” that she is willing to violate her partner’s boundaries to make it happen, in part because Willow’s concept of fixing it is not about addressing the actual issue, but just making it so her partner isn’t angry at her anymore. Her use of magic in service of this in the situation with Tara is in some way incidental; it was just the best tool she had for what she was trying to accomplish.

But in other respects, the use of magic makes a huge difference between these two situations. While she crossed Oz’s boundaries, it was still significantly less of a violation than erasing Tara’s memories. Furthermore Oz was able to see her crossing his boundaries and push back, forcing her to respect them. Tara had no idea Willow had even done anything and never would have known had Dawn not accidentally tipped her off. While Willow’s motivations are the same, her actions with Tara are much worse.

And that’s the crux of it. Willow is a person with certain quirks and character flaws, but no more so than anyone else. They are things she needs to work on, because it’s always good to work to better yourself, but the problems that they might sometimes cause for the people around her are ultimately just a part of being an imperfect human being interacting with other imperfect people. But having access to magic, and a lot of it at that, serves to enable and magnify all those character flaws and makes the negative impact on the people around her much worse.

#btvs #willow rosenberg #spoilers for poetic

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rebelliousstories · 6 hours

Text

I Know Now

Relationship: Spencer Reid x Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Request: No

Warnings: Angst, Light Fluff

Word Count: 1,032

Main Masterlist: Here

Criminal Minds Masterlist: Here

Part One: Did You Know?// Part Three: Somebody Knows// Part Four: What We Know

Summary: When it comes time for Reid to come home, everyone is happy. Everyone except the one person he wants to see more than anyone else.

“Cherish every moment with those you love, because tomorrow is never promised.” - Unknown

Spencer had no idea what was going on as he was brought into the visitors room. He was not sure what was going on, but within a few minutes, he got his answer. Jennifer walked into the room with a teary smile on her face as she looked at her best friend.

“We’re taking you home.” For the first time in three months, Spencer voluntarily touched another human being. Weight was taken off of him as he hugged her close, but he was waiting to see one specific person.

Checking out of the prison felt amazing. He was never going to go back to those walls again if he could help it. Reid dressed in the suit he wore in again, and waited for the gate to be opened. On the other side, he was delighted to see his friends and coworkers. Garcia came up and wrapped him up tightly, to which he smiled at, but as he looked around, he could not help but be disappointed. His wife was nowhere to be seen. Pulling away, Spencer realized that he must have had a confused look on his face because Penelope spoke up.

“We tried to get into contact with her, but she wasn’t answering her phone.” She whispered, ushering the man into the SUV that was awaiting them. With everything happening with his mom, Lindsey, Scratch; the one thing he needed was her to keep him sane.

Penelope gave him a portable battery charger for the drive, because after three months, his phone was definitely not charged enough for a call. Spencer sat impatiently as he waited for the phone to power up. They turned the corner to go into headquarters and he felt relief at seeing the beautiful building again. He thought he would never see it again. Once his phone was online, he immediately began to try and call his wife, only to be met with her voicemail every time.

Jennifer offered to take Spencer by their apartment to check, as Cassie’s phone was also going to voicemail. It was starting to become weird for the team as they tried to piece together the pieces of this puzzle. Spencer stepped inside of his apartment and immediately spotted the scrapbook that was left out in the open. Two pieces from the book were not where they were supposed to be. A picture that he had made of himself and a tightrope walker, and a picture from the very first time that his mom had met his future wife. Spencer remembered that day so clearly after all these years.

“Mom, hey. How are you feeling today?” Spencer spoke softly through the room as he walked inside. Sitting in a chair, facing the window, was his mother. She turned her head at the sound of his voice and was shocked to see her son, and someone behind him.

“Spencer, what a pleasant surprise. I’m feeling okay today. They had pancakes for breakfast so it was a good start. Who’s this?” Diana jumped straight to the point. Stepping to the side, Spencer presented the young lady that was behind him. She gave her full name as she made her way to the elder Reid.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Reid. Spencer couldn’t stop talking about you the entire time here.” She held out her hand, and waited, but the older woman only looked at it. Sensing the awkward tension beginning to arise, the younger woman held out the present in her hands towards her boyfriend’s mother.

“Spence told me you weren’t a fan of flowers, or chocolates, or anything of the sort so I thought this would be a good thing to bring.” Diana took the object, and look down inquisitively. In her hands, rested a book. Not just any book, no; this was a gorgeous ornate version of Parliament of Fowls. The same stories she used to read to Spencer as a young boy. Trailing her hands over the cover, she felt the embossing and looked up at the stranger with her son.

“Are you two going to stand forever, or come sit down and join me?” Turning to her boyfriend, she smiled as he walked her over to where two chairs sat side by side.

“Spence, are you okay?” JJ asked, resting a hand on his shoulder. He jolted out of his seat at the touch, causing the woman to step back with her hands up in defense.

“Sorry, sorry,” came his panted breaths, “just realized that these two pictures aren’t where they’re suppose to be.”

“Is there anything significant about them?” She inquired, looking over his shoulder.

The one of him as a child looked unmarked, but turning it around showed him the note in lipstick. XX-XY. However, the other picture was very clearly marked. The same red lipstick was scribbled over his wife’s face and stomach. He knew what the first clue meant, but what on earth did this mean? Spencer stood up abruptly, and went to look around his apartment. There was no sign of his mother or wife all through the humble abode, sending him further and further to the edge. Cassie was not there either, which added another layer to his frayed state already.

It should have been more of a shock to find Cassie dead, and Lindsey on the run, but it was not. At least not to Spencer. This was the natural escalation of things, he supposed. He felt relief when he heard that the victim at the gas station was male; his mother and wife were still alive. But as he sat in the BAU again, trying to crack this case, he kept getting tunnel vision. What was he not seeing? What was alluding him?

When they finally got a break in the case, he was not sure whether or not he was thankful. Because the second that face popped up on the big screen, he felt like he could break it. The screen and the person on it.

“It’s me.”

George Eliot wrote, “Only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love.”

#rebelliousstories #writing #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #diana reid

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junggunz · 10 hours

Text

Like. Comment. Subscribe! ft. Goo Kim |🔞

summary: before your official collaboration with Goo, you wanted to take him for a test run cw: fem bodied!reader x camboy!goo, reader is also a streamer, smut, a tiny bit of plot, filming, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, squirting, cumshot/facial, p in v, reader gets slapped once, reader chokes goo, creampie, all characters featured are 18+, this got longer than i anticipated so let me know if i forgot anything wc: 4.5k an: BET YOU DIDNT THINK I WAS GONNA WORK ON THIS DID YOU LOL. my bad this idea was only half baked when i wrote the first part.

Part 1: Like! | Part 2: Comment!

You spent at least four weeks talking to Goo daily about the upcoming stream you had planned. Just from the first couple messages you exchanged, you knew he saw things as strictly business. Discussing protocols like scheduling, whose channel the stream would be cast from, the split of profits, STD paneling and other things along those lines that would once again be discussed with lawyers present so the two of you could come up with a contract. This type of professionalism he displayed soothed any nerves about whether Goo would be good to collaborate with.

A big dick and a business savvy mind; you had seriously struck a goldmine with him.

Naturally, the topic of kinks and hard limits would come up—though it was technically still a work related question, it was the precursor for more personal questions and allowed you to get more of a feel for who Goo was outside of his streams. Much to your surprise, there was very little—if any—difference. Having what seems like an obsession with money, he was one of those eccentric rich guys that you had only seen in movies. However, he lacked the overtly creepy flair that a lot of those men had. Goo was funny, flirty, and overall just interesting to talk to; it made you briefly wonder about if he was open to the idea of seeing you outside of work…but the idea comes and goes with the wind as you open up a window in your bedroom, starting to feel stuffy from all the lights on you while you sat at your desk.

“Would it be too slutty to let Goo creampie me the first time we hang out?” You giggle to your viewers, teehee and haha-ing for now since you didn’t have time for a normal, full length stream in the evening. “I’m seeing him later today to talk about our collaboration. I’m so nervous.” You casually mention as you read over the chat.

antisimpsimpclub: plz record it if u do 🙏 FiveStarDickVinJin: lol I’m way better looking than him. Is that why you were too shy to ask me to collab? BIGDADDYJANGHYUN: wowww you said we were gonna collab again soon wtf…you know i have a kid to feed SEONGEUNSPANTIES: Goo is so hot in person. trust. JaneKim123: I don’t like Goo tbh. He’s giving….SCUMBAG vibes 🤢

Face illuminated by a light blue glow as you read over comments on the screen, you hum softly in amusement at the varied opinions your viewers had about the other streamer. It would be a lie to say that you were a fan of his prior to watching his stream; as he was a newer and still growing content creator, you never saw him pop up on your social media feeds or be recommended to you. Only with the push of a few viewers who had enjoyed both your content and his had begged for you to check out Goo after he mentioned that he wouldn’t do anything collaborative unless it was with you.

“Goo hasn’t worked with anyone else on the site yet. It’s only natural that I claim him first before anyone else can get their filthy paws on him.” You state as a fox-like grin graces your features, idly rocking your desk chair back and forth with your freshly manicured toes on the floor.

KIMMIRU: power move antisimpsimpclub: Y/N is such a sweetheart helping out a smaller streamer. We love to see it. dxgxxx: i hope u make him cum so hard he cries FiveStarDickVinjin: Goo is a greedy clout chaser. hmu later

Quite honestly, collaborating with Goo was the last outcome you would have expected after you watched his stream. You clicked on his profile, thinking you would troll him and call him out for trying to be a social climber but when you first laid eyes on him and that perfect cock of his…you knew you had to have him.

When you questioned him about why he wanted to work with you specifically, he had no qualms explaining that you were his best bet at rapidly increasing his viewers. Despite him trying to claw his way up the platform’s hierarchy by using you as a stepping stool, you appreciated his honesty. Seeing that garnering a large following and being able to capitalize off of that was Goo’s incentive for streaming, you kindly invited him over to give him some pointers. Totally not having any ulterior motives.

Your short stream comes to an end when you hear your doorbell ring and you wave goodbye to all your viewers, thanking them for stopping by and tipping. Turning off your computer, you wander out to the main space of your apartment, surveying your surroundings one last time to ensure everything was in place before finally opening the door to reveal Goo standing at your doorstep. Decked in designer from head to toe as usual, he hands you a gift bag while he steps inside your apartment once the door is open wide enough. Not polite enough to say hello, but gracious enough to bring you two bottles of champagne. And not to mention, it was the brand you casually mentioned liking during one of your conversations…

“Nice place. Mine’s nicer, but not everyone has exquisite taste like me.” Goo muses, examining your living space as he makes his way to your couch and settles down on the plush surface. “So, Streaming God, what knowledge can you bestow upon me?” He questions, getting straight to the point of his visit.

Double checking that you locked your front door, you go to put the champagne in the fridge for the meantime. Following that, you grab your laptop that had been sitting on the kitchen island before going over to where Goo was sitting and taking the spot beside him. Pulling up his profile on the platform you both streamed on. Stony expression to hide the heat tickling your belly, you scrub through a few of his previous streams then ask him to show you his other social media accounts.

“For someone streaming on an adult website, your streams are too tame. It’s almost boring.” You say bluntly, opinion now fully formulated as you continue to scroll through his highlights. “Viewers are already paying a subscription fee to the website just to see content and you’re begging them for more money only to see the outline of your dick.”

“If they want to see the goods, they can check my OnlyFans.” He shrugs with a small laugh.

“As a content creator, you need to at least be able to give the illusion that you’re letting your audience into your life.” You explain, turning toward him with a serious expression. “Putting everything behind a paywall just increases the likelihood of someone leaking your stuff and making you lose more money.”

The mention of losing out any sort of capital gain has Goo listening more intently to the advice you give him. He cringes at the notion of giving previews of his dick for free; but if you say that’s the surefire way to draw people and their wallets in, who is he to complain? Even with over one thousand subscribers, he's not making nearly as much bank as you.

From your long winded lecture, there are three points that Goo takes to heart.

Be open to the suggestions of your viewers. They love feeling like they’re being listened to.

Express gratitude for your donations. Rewarding your highest tippers almost always leads to them spending more money.

Make your viewers think they have a chance at fucking you.

“Why don’t we film something tonight? I’ll even edit the preview for you and show you how to do it yourself.” You suggest to him after wrapping up the lengthy conversation on how to improve his content. “You can upload the full length, uncensored video as a pay per view.”

“What? Like as a teaser for the upcoming stream?” Goo questions, arching a brow curiously upon hearing your idea. Perking up, he sits up a bit straighter as he looks at your expression, waiting for what you had to say about the idea you seemingly hatched out of nowhere.

“Exactly.” You respond, more than delighted to see that you’ve gotten his full attention. “Plus, if we wait until the stream to fuck, the viewers are most definitely going to talk shit when things are awkward.”

Goo pretends to think it over and “check his schedule” to see if he had time tonight. It’s a ruse to hide the fact he was eager borderlining on desperate to get into your pants. He can’t remember the last time he went out and got laid since hookups long lost their appeal and having strangers throw money at him just for being hot was enough of an ego boost.

And so the first filming session ensues.

For an “amateur” style set up, Goo notices that you’re very meticulous about where you place your tripods and lighting; having no problem ordering him around and telling him where to go as you figure out the best configuration for things. Lights and cameras in place, all that's missing is the action. There's no director to yell cue or remind Goo to get in place. It's just you. Though you do offer some instruction, the male is unsure what to do because never had he been in a sexual situation quite like this.

“Just pretend the cameras aren’t there.” You tell him once everything is all arranged to your liking and the two of you are sitting next to each other stiffly at the edge of your bed.

Well acclimated to the environment, you don’t think twice before leaning in to make the first move; a soothing hand on Goo’s thigh as your lips find his. Your boldness catches him by surprise at first but it takes only a moment before he matches your energy, reciprocating your kiss even more fervently as his hands reach to cup your jaw. Thumbs lightly pressing into the hollows of your cheeks, Goo’s tongue slips out in search of yours; dancing along your lower lip until your mouth opens for him and he’s able to get his first taste of you. Long fingers spidering down the column of your throat, he applies the lightest amount of pressure on the side of your neck and causes your breath to hitch as his tongue sweeps along the warmth of your mouth. Breaking the kiss for just a few moments, he looks at you with a mischievous smile.

“You like that?” Goo whispers against your lips, giving a light squeeze to your neck which provokes a shaky sigh from you.

“Yeah—” You manage to get out in a breathy voice, swallowing thickly as you try to retain some semblance of control; but quite honestly all you can think about is tearing off his clothes and hopping on his dick.

“Jog my memory a bit. Tell me what else you like.” He coos, holding you in place as he stares you down. “What did you say you wanted to do with me?”

A short laugh tickles the back of your throat when you hear Goo’s question and start to hark back to all your raunchy conversations with him. Lighthearted in nature, you never would have guessed that the casual naughty back and forth through texts had him struggling to reply with one hand holding his phone the other hand stroking his cock. But as your hand crawls up his inner thigh and cups his bulge while you’re speaking to him, you understand the impact your words have on him.

“Aw, what’s the fun in that?” You croon with an impish grin, your fingertips already dancing toward the buckle of his expensive belt. “I’ll just show you.”

It becomes very clear to Goo why you’re the top earner on the website. The way you speak. The way you move. It’s all so effortlessly seductive. If he wasn’t watching you slink down to your knees right before his eyes and pull his pants down to free his throbbing cock, he would have sworn this was some sort of fantasy or augmented reality. Seeing you in the flesh, you were definitely too good to be true but that’s what made you the perfect virtual girlfriend in the line of adult streaming.

“You really are prettier in person.” You murmur, the warmth of your breath gently fanning against the head of his length when you speak.

You might be fixed on his pulsing dick right in front of your face but you look so, so, so good to Goo; your mouth just an inch or so away from his cock. The hunger in your eyes mirrors his and it’s something he doesn’t think he’s seen before. After being disappointed one too many times, getting head stopped being exciting for him. All his hook ups always missed the mark. Whether it be his cock being too long for them, their jaw aching, or not liking the way he bucked his hips into their face; it was all the same. But you? You seem absolutely thrilled by the fact his dick would definitely be blocking your airways when you took him into your mouth.

So you do it without thinking too much.

To be embraced by your warm mouth is what Goo assumes it's like to be welcomed to the gates of heaven. It's an all consuming feeling of elation that fills his field of vision with white. He can't even fathom the level of pleasure he'll feel when you make him cum–just the sensation of you gently sucking him off and massaging his shaft with your tongue seems like the pinnacle of bliss. Caught between a rock and a hard place, Goo is unsure if cumming too quickly or if starting to cry from how good he felt would be more embarrassing. Both seem like very viable options when you're paying so much attention to him and giving him the sloppiest top he'll probably ever get in his life.

“F-fuck, what are you?” Goo rasps in disbelief of how good you felt, blinking back the tears that formed in his eyes from the overwhelming pleasure.

He doesn’t think it can get any better than this; but it does. Your mouth inches further down his shaft, swallowing carefully with your tongue pressed against the underside. When you gag the first time, Goo expects you to pull off immediately but you just keep going; your eyes teary just like his as you drool around him. Once the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, Goo is sure that’s where you’ll stop– he was more than content like this. Breathing slowly through each gag, you push yourself until your chin grazes his full sack; swallowing around him to stimulate his length because it was too difficult to suck when your lips were stretched around his girth like this.

Even though you’ve taken him fully, Goo is greedy and he wants to just yank on your hair then start fucking your face but it’s his legs feeling like jelly that stop him. All he can currently do is moan like a slut, enjoying the slick heat of your mouth as you take him in; not leaving an inch out. Running a rough hand through your hair, Goo grips it tight before using that strong hold to bob your head along his cock faster. Squeezing your eyes shut, you whine around him, breathing heavily through your nose to fight your gag reflex.

You really hope that your camera’s microphones are able to pick up the pornographic noises of the wet sputters, groans that are closer to whimpers from him, and the needy gasps and gags from you. It’s downright vulgar and the sound alone is to make anyone feel some type of way. So wrapped in the pleasure of your mouth, Goo forgets that everything is currently being filmed. He can’t be bothered to hold back when he feels his balls tightening up before shooting his load right down your throat, the thick white ribbons of his cum continuing to spray across your face when you pull your mouth off him.

Sitting back on your knees, you wrap your hand around his slick shaft to pump every last drop out of him; letting more of it splatter on your face and chest and drip down your hand. Using your clean hand to lightly slap his thigh and bring him back into the present moment, you motion for him to grab your phone that was on a handheld stabilizer.

Thank god for the equipment you owned; Goo was shaking so bad he definitely wouldn’t have been able to film properly. Just looking at you covered in his cum had prevented his cock from softening. Seeing how pathetic he was when he reached his climax, you can’t help but smile when you see length aching for more. After getting a few clips of you swallowing his seed, you get cleaned up then move into the next act.

Laying back on your bed with Goo between them, eyeing your clothed cunt hungrily, it’s now your turn to film him.

“Most male content creators forget that their female dominated audience don’t wanna see them fucking some girl; they wanna be able to imagine that they’re the girl getting fucked.” You had told Goo during one of your conversations with him about growing his platform.

Peeling your panties off your body carefully, he wants to look at you and see your reaction to his touch but he’s only met with a camera lens of your phone. Maybe seeing your face would be too much for Goo anyway; he felt like he was being suffocated by the delectable scent and the succulent visual of your pussy in front of his face. You watch him through the screen with bated breath, trying your best to keep your sounds to a minimum when you feel his tongue make contact with your pussy for the first time. Gripping your thighs tight, Goo licks fat stripes of your folds; spreading them just enough with his tongue so he could taunt your swollen clit with the feathery contact. He can feel your legs lock up as your toes dig into the sheets as an attempt to ground yourself and stop your hips from bucking against his face.

Goo can’t remember the last time he went down on someone, but he definitely doesn’t recall the last time he’s felt this needy while doing it. The way you drip all over his tongue is addicting; he can’t stop himself from shoving the wet muscle into your pussy deeper and deeper until his nose is pressed against your clit. He would gladly suffocate himself between your thighs if it meant he could taste every last bit of you. His fingers nearly bruise your skin when he grips you tighter to yank you closer to his mouth; ravenously eating your pussy all while the tip of his nose stimulates your pearl.

Moaning into your flesh, he can’t bear even the idea of you trying to pull away from him before he’s had his fill of you. The way you clench on his tongue sends heat straight to his cock much like how each of the sounds he makes makes you drip all over his face. Meanwhile, you feel like you’re gonna burst from having to keep your voice down. You had mentally prepared yourself for leg shaking orgasms that would be brought on by Goo’s perfect cock but you did not anticipate how good he would be with his mouth. Guess his mouth was good for more than just talking big game; he could definitely back it all up.

Holding on to the glorified selfie stick with a death grip, you can’t hold back the moan that pours from your lungs when Goo’s tongue moves to swirl around your clit while his fingers dip into your leaking hole. The naughty expression gracing his beautiful face as he stares at the camera while curling his ring and middle fingers inside of you has your thighs trembling. He finds your sweet spot so easily, it’s unfair. The dual simulation of his fingers pressing into your walls while his lips envelope your clit drives you mad with pleasure. It’s a paradox of emotions as you crave more of him yet feel like you’re gonna combust if he doesn’t let up on you.

“F-fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me.” You pant quietly, teeth sinking into your lower lip as you try to keep back any more of your sounds.

“Aw, sweetheart, we haven’t even gotten to the good part.” Goo chastises you, lips momentarily leaving your clit before he spits on the pulsating bud then rubs over it in circles with his thumb. “Your pussy is just so wet– it’s the perfect thing for quenching my thirst.”

He chuckles in amusement when he feels your walls squeeze around his fingers in response to his words.

“I bet I could make this juicy little pussy cum in just three…two…one.” In a mere three rough but very precise pushes against your g-spot, a surprised squeal escapes you as you squirt all over his fingers.

You were definitely going to keep a copy of this video for yourself.

Goo laps up the aftermath of your release hungrily, slurping up every last bit of your juices until he could only taste his own saliva on you. After that, both of you shed your remaining clothes, double checking that the rest of the tripods were still in a good position to capture everything.

“You wanna fuck me missionary? I didn’t know you were a romantic.” You tease as Goo mounts you after pushing you to lay back against the bed again; now able to take in the sight of you fully.

“Or maybe I want you to get a good look at the person who’s about to make you cum so hard you forget your name.” He taunts, gripping his shaft in one hand while dragging it through your slick folds; tapping the head against your sensitive clit.

“Haha, so fu–ck!” Goo takes the words right out of your mouth when he abruptly dips into your heat.

One hand finds its way to clutch onto your leg while the other holds himself up beside your head, watching the way your pussy swallows up his length oh so eagerly. The fat tip of his cock makes your head spin– stretching you out in the best way and molding your walls to fit him. Giving a few slow but incredibly deep thrusts, you feel the plump tip of his cock digging deep into your sopping cunt so animalistically it has your vision going spotty. Setting off a brutal pace, the force of his hips rutting into you feels like a truck just slammed into you. It rips the moans right out of your throat and you can only let out a surprised gasp.

“Feels so much better to have me inside of you instead of some stupid toy, doesn’t it?” He asks between deep thrusts, filling you the hilt.

Everything is so sloppy and wet; your pussy does all the talking for you as it squeezes him tight and produces lewd squelches every time he pushes into your heat. His thick cock tickles deep in your gummy insides and it has you salivating from how ridiculously good it feels. The moment your eyes start to droop as your mind drifts to who knows where, Goo gives your cheek a light slap.

“I told you, I want you to look at me while I fuck you.” He says, his voice lowering menacingly; the usual look of mischief in his eyes gone and replaced by a dark lust.

Licking his lips, he can still taste you on them and it makes his cock throb even harder when it’s paired with you looking up at him with that blissed out expression on your face. The way your body bounces each time he slams into you. The way you grab at the sheets so desperately. Everything about how you look beneath him in this very moment makes him want to tear into you like no other.

Sure, Goo is putting on a performance that would definitely cause his viewership to skyrocket; but he doesn’t give a fuck about that right now. All he cares about is fucking you so good that you get hooked on him; because he’s definitely developed a taste for you. Holding his cock deep inside of your pussy, his mean thrusts turn into rough grinds of his hips; making sure to very deliberately press his pubic bone against your clit each time the tip of his cock kisses that special spot deep within you.

“Oh, fuck me–” You groan out between gritted teeth as Goo pushes into you, tremors running through your body as you get dangerously close to your finish.

“Isn’t that what I’m doing?” Goo laughs, rolling his hips into you harder. “You want more, don’t you? You’re gonna make a mess all over my dick if I give it to you?”

Moaning in frustration because of how much just his words affect you, you relinquish your hold on the sheets; your hands sliding up his strong arms and landing on his shoulders. You catch Goo by surprise when one of your hands wraps around his throat, squeezing lightly.

“Just shut up and make me cum.” You tell him, masking the desperation you truly felt with a malice filled voice.

“You don’t need to tell me twice.” He snickers before starting to slam into your sweet spot hard, pulling his hips back until the tip only remains then disappearing inside of you again.

Your pussy was already clinging on to him so good. As he feels your walls fluttering around him as you approach your finish, it spurs his on as well. The urge to cum builds up so fast, but Goo’s hips move faster; encouraged by the way your hole just keeps squeezing tighter and tighter with every slam of his hips.

“A-ah…I’m cumming.” You whine out, unconsciously gripping Goo harder in all the right ways. The combined sensation of your juices soaking his dick while clamping down on him and your hand on his neck choking him harder makes his brain short circuit. Tumbling head first into orgasmic bliss, he can’t think to pull out and thoughtlessly floods your cunt with his cum, spilling it all right into your cervix. He pumps every last drop into you before finally pulling out, flopping on to the mattress and trying to catch his breath and make sense of what just happened.

Surprising him yet again, you’re quick to recover and hop out of bed–despite your trembling legs– to end the recording and turn off all your cameras. Closing his eyes, Goo hears you walking back and forth around the room doing whatever you need to do but he jolts back into full attention when you rather aggressively plop back in bed beside him; this time with your laptop.

“Are you ready to work? Or should I give you a few more minutes?”

#lookism smut #lookism x reader #goo kim smut #goo kim x reader #goo kim scenarios #kim joongoo smut #kim joongoo x reader #junggunz.txt

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