#which I wrote up at one point to get it out of my system

[kiwiana-writes]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks @cha-melodius and @stereopticons for the tags! I know I’ve done this in the past, but it’s been a hot minute…

How many works do you have on ao3?

239!

What's your total ao3 word count?

822,937—but that’s a collaboration-boosted lie. Per my writing tracker, words that I have personally written and published on AO3 is 693,613

What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly RWRB these days, but the majority of my back catalogue is Schitt’s Creek, with a few others sprinkled in for fun. The Pairing definitely made my brain whirr… we’ll see.

Top five fics by kudos:

With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest), RWRB, 65.5k, the Much Ado About Nothing stage actor AU

Kinda think that I might be his type, RWRB, 12.8k, Alex and Bea fake date and Alex gets a little distracted by Bea’s brother

We were supposed to find this, RWRB, 3.3k, soulmate AU

We always walked a very thin line, Happiest Season, 2.7k, Riley character study/alternate ending

All the Lonely Starbucks Lovers, RWRB, 5.8k, barista Henry repeatedly putting his foot in his mouth in front of his coworker crush

(This is how I learned Puck It has been knocked out of my top five 😭)

Do you respond to comments?

Yes! And absent a Schitt’s Creek resurgence of some kind that sees me absolutely inundated I don’t see that changing.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Five ways it could have ended (and one way it still could), Schitt’s Creek, 1.2k, for the love of god read the tags

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Like… most of them? I love to end on a good HEA haha. For sheer joy, though, it’s probably With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest)

Do you get hate on fics?

From time to time. I’m very free with the delete button. Weirdly, it occasionally pops up in the AO3 comments but mostly seems to come to me via anons on tumblr??? I have no idea why.

Do you write smut?

It’s been known to happen, I guess 👀

Craziest crossover:

I haven’t written any AO3-era crossovers! A few fusions/media AUs, but no crossovers.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope. I’ve only been asked once, and they wanted to post off AO3 which is a big heck nope for me (and my permissions statement has now been updated to reflect that)

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Heck yeah I have. I’ve done several anthology-type collaborations where we each wrote a chapter in a fic, and I’ve fully cowritten fics with @ships-to-sail several times. We have another collab coming up for @aroyallybigbangrwrb and I’m also cowriting The Big Secret AU with @indestructibleheart which is essentially us one-upping each other on emotionally devastating ideas until someone writes them down. Good system 😂

All time favorite ship?

Stop making pansexuals choose things.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Look, the chances of kinktober 2021 being finished at this point are slim 😂

Schitt’s Creek kinkverse… I don’t know. I have little snippets written of future fics and they’re great but… idk. Maybe I’ll write one vignette-y wrap up fic one day.

What are your writing strengths?

Narrative POV, dialogue that feels like the characters, epistolary bullshit, smut apparently.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Coming up with actual plot lmao. Visual descriptors — I’m not even remotely a visual person so I really really struggle with writing the sorts of things people can visualise. Also like… the passage of time? A scam.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Love it. I’ll shoulder tap a fluent speaker if I need an actual sentence/anything Google isn’t super reliable for. Forever heartbroken that there are no fics in my second language in AO3 and no reason for me to be able to sprinkle it into my own writing (though one of the subscriber shindig prompts might be about to change that 👀)

First fandom you wrote in?

HP

Favorite fic you've written?

Stop! Asking! Pansexuals! To! Choose! Things!

I don’t know there are 239 of the bloody things 😂 I’m far more interested in what other people’s favourites are than what my own is!

I have no sense of who’s done this already so apologies if this is a double up but tagging @agame-writes @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @cricketnationrise @getmehighonmagic

@happiness-of-the-pursuit @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @nontoxic-writes

@read-and-write- @rmd-writes @sparklepocalypse @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play!

#20 questions for fic writers #kiwiana-writes

[5ummit]

Stucky used to be my comfort ship.

I used to think Steve and Bucky cared for each other so deeply and tragically that their love – even if only viewed as platonic – could not be denied by anyone. Not after Steve spent THREE whole movies, the entire Cap trilogy, proving how much Bucky meant to him over and over and over. Steve was willing to fight for him and die for him in every single movie. I used to think that even if Marvel gave Steve another love interest, even if he died in Endgame, it wouldn’t change or negate how devoted they were to each other. That they would still be friends “til the end of the line.”

Little did I know what awaited me in Endgame was a fate worse than death.

Steve left and in doing so rewrote everything we thought we knew about him and his relationship with Bucky. About who Steve is as a character entirely. It wasn’t just that he abandoned his supposed best friend, who he had been chasing and obsessing over for years. Who was there for him and looked after him ever since they were children. If Steve had left the Bucky he used to know in the 1940s for some love interest and a life without him, it would still be pretty out of character, but I would eventually get over it. 1940s!Bucky was confident, happy, and had family and friends who cared about him. Endgame!Bucky is not that Bucky.

Endgame!Bucky is broken and lost and just now learning how to be a person again. Endgame!Bucky has no friends and no family. Endgame!Bucky just spent the last 70 years of his life going from one fight to another, being brainwashed and tortured and manipulated and abused. Endgame!Bucky is clinging by a thread to the one and only thing he knows and values in this world: Steve.

This is the Bucky that Steve chose to leave.

If Steve was any kind of friend at all – if Steve was truly a hero and the morally upstanding person he’s portrayed as, a person worthy of wielding Mjolnir – he would know these things about Bucky, his best friend since childhood, and at the very least, would refuse to leave his side until Bucky had some sort of support network and seemed well-adjusted enough to handle it. But he doesn’t. Even in their farewell scene when Bucky (looking like a kicked puppy) says to him “I’m gonna miss you” Steve won’t even echo the sentiment. He just says “it’s gonna be okay,” as if he’s aware of the pain Bucky must be in and essentially tells him, “don’t worry, you’ll get over it.” And I’m not even going to get into the terrible way Steve treated his other best friend, Sam, by keeping him completely in the dark about his plans for absolutely no reason and abandoning him as well.

Marvel didn’t just make Steve act out of character in Endgame in an effort to no-homo him and create a ~surprise twist~. They didn’t just make him a bit selfish and a bad friend. They straight up made him a villain, and I will never ever forgive them for it.

#in honor of the endgame anniversary #have this rant that I've had sitting in my drafts for like two years #which I wrote up at one point to get it out of my system #still just as true now and I'm still mad so I figured I might as well post it #the whole thing would be absolutely shakespearean if it weren't so goddamn out of character #stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #anti endgame #marvel #my words #marvel wank #my meta

[paganinpurple]

AO3 Etiquette -UPDATED

Based on both decent and not so decent replies, I have made some changes to my original post below.

It would seem a whole new kind of AO3 reader/writer is emerging and it is becoming clear not everyone quite understands how the website community works. Here is some basic guidance on how most people expect you to go about using AO3 to keep this a fun community archive that funtions correctly:

As well as likes, kudos is for when the story was interesting enough to make you finish reading. If it sucked or was badly written, you probably left. If you finished it, you liked it - so kudos.

If you really liked it, you should try to comment. It can be long and detailed or a literal keysmash. Writers don't care, we just love comments.

No critisism unless the author has specifically asked or agreed to hear it (so use your notes to say if you want some constructive feedback). Even constructive critisism is a no-no unless an author note tells you it's okay. No, posting it online is not an open invitation for that. Many people write as a fun hobby or a way to cope with, among other things, insecurity and just want to share. Don't ruin that for them. I've seen so many authors just stop writing coz they can't handle the negative emotions the critism brings, and it's only meant to be a fun thing shared for free (pointing out tagging errors is not included in this).

Do not comment to ask the author to write/update something else. It's tacky and off-putting and will probably have the opposite effect than the one you want.

There is no algorithm, it's an archive. Use the search and filter function to add/remove the pairings/characters/tropes etc. you want to read about and it will find you the fics that fit the bill.

For this to work, writers must tag and rate stories. This avoids readers finding the wrong things and missing the stuff they want. I don't care how cringy that trope is in your eyes - it gets tagged.

The tag exception is if you don't want to tag a million things or spoil your story, you can rate it as "chose not to use warnings," and maybe tag the bare minimum.

Don't censor tags. How can someone exclude a tag if the word isn't typed out correctly? There are no content bans for terms so don't censor them.

If the tags are mostly content/trigger warnings, especially if they are things considered very fucked up or graphic, you might want to use "dead dove - do not eat" to ensure people know that you're not messing around with tags and what they get is exactly what you've warned them about.

Character A/Character B means a ROMANTIC or SEXUAL relationship of some kind. Character A&Character B is PLATONIC, like friendship or family.

Nothing is banned. This is an rule because banning one thing is a slipperly slope to banning another and another, until nothing is allowed anymore. Do not expect anyone to censor for you. Because of the tags system, you are responsible for your own reading experience.

People can create new chapters and sequels/fic series any time after they "complete" a story. So it's considered perfectly normal to subscribe, even to a finished story. You can even subscribe to the author instead just to cover your bases.

Do not repost stories or change the publishing date without an extremely good reason (like a complete top to bottom rewrite or an exchange youve written for going public). It's an archive, not social media. No one cares what's the most recent, only what fits their tag needs.

Instead of deleting a story you wrote if you hate it - consider making it anonymous or orphaning it so others can still enjoy it, without it being connected to your name anymore. If you still want to delete it, fair enough.

It's come to my attention that metaworks ARE allowed on AO3, which is something I wasn't aware of. So if you do post an essay or theory, please tag it as such so others can choose to search for it or exclude it. Art is also allowed.

The only reason this archive works is because NON ONE PROFITS. Do not link to your ko-fi or patreon or mention monetary gain in any way or you violate the terms and risk having your account removed. If anyone does link, it leaves the archive open to people claiming it's for profit and having the whole thing removed.

I KNOW there's plenty more I missed but I'm trying to cover most of the basics that people seem to be struggling with.

I invite anyone to add to this, but please explain, don't berate.

#ao3 #using ao3 #archive of our own #fanfiction #fanworks

[qqueenofhades]

i registered to vote for the first time ( i feel old) now that im an adult but my state has closed primary elections which i was wondering if you have an opinion about. my initial thought was that its bad because i had to register democrat (rather than my states green party which represents my beliefs more) just so i could vote between democrat candidates, which feels like being pressured into supporting the weird pseudo two party system we have. but then i looked it up and apparently a reason for this is so that people from opposing parties wont purposefully mess up the votes just so that their preferred candidates have an easier time winning, and i think that makes sense too. but is that actually the reason theyve closed it or is it just to force us dem/republican?? cause it feels strange

Okay, look. I respect the fact that you're a young person, and I appreciate that you have not only registered to vote, but plan to vote in the primaries, so I don't want to lecture you too much. That said: I am taking you out for coffee, I am sitting you down, I am looking into your eyes, and I am urgently telling you the following:

The Green Party is a scam. It is a scam. It has existed for decades in American politics as an empty shell corporation weaponizing the good intentions of young people like yourself, because all it theoretically stands for "it's good to save the planet maybe." Which is not something that any non-insane person seriously disagrees with, but there is no world in which that cause is actually furthered by registering/voting Green (you mentioned that you did vote for Democrats, which -- good, but listen to me here, youngun, okay?) It ran Jill Stein in 2016 to siphon more votes from HRC, and this election it plans to run Cornel West, a pro-Russian tankie who positively equated Bernie and Trump, as another spoiler candidate. It does not stand for "protecting the planet" or America in any real way. It has never elected a single senator or congressman, let alone a president. It stands for empty performance/grievance political theater by those people who feel too morally superior to vote for/affiliate with Democrats, often because the internet has told them that it's not Cool or Hip or Progressive enough.

If your main priority is climate/the environment, you're doing the right thing by registering as a Democrat and voting for Democrats. (Also: the adjectival form is Democratic. It is the Democratic party and Democratic candidates, otherwise you sound like the Fox News host who wrote a book literally entitled "The Democrat Party Hates America.") They are the only major party who has in fact passed major climate legislation and have made environmental justice a central tenet of their platform. As opposed to the Republicans, whose Project 2025, along with the rest of its nightmare fascist prescriptions, openly pledges to completely wreck existing climate protections and forbid any new ones, just because we weren't all dying fast enough under their death-cult rule already. That's the main logical fallacy I don't get among both the Online Leftists and the American electorate in general: "the Democrats aren't doing quite enough as I'd like, so I'll enable the active wrecking ball insane lunatics to get in power and ruin even the progress we HAVE managed to make!" Like. How does that even make sense?

On a federal level, the Greens have contributed nothing whatsoever of tangible value to American or international climate policy/legislation, environmental justice, or anything else, because as noted, they don't have any elected candidates and mostly focus on drawing voters away from Democrats. There might be plenty of good candidates on the local or city level, which -- great! Vote away for Greens if they're available, or the only other option is a Republican! But on the federal/primary level, please understand: once again, they are a scam. There is no point in affiliating yourself with them. You're welcome to register Green and vote Democratic, if that makes you feel better or if you prefer having another label next to your name, but once again, I'm telling you in my position as a salty Tumblr elder that they have done nothing but harm to the causes they claim to care about, because "environment" is such a nebulous priority and has demonstrably been hijacked to stop the American government entity, i.e. the Democrats, that is actually working to improve on it.

As for your question: nobody is "forcing" or "pressuring" you to vote in primaries. By your own admission, you made a conscious choice to register as a Democrat in order to vote for Democratic candidates. If you were just a regular registered voter of whatever party affiliation, you would vote in the general election for whatever candidate the primary process produced. But if you are sufficiently vested and committed to that process that you would like to have a say in who is running under that party label, it is not unreasonable that you would register as a member of that party. Nobody has twisted your arm behind your back and made you do so; you are taking a considerable level of initiative on your own. Likewise, open primaries can be both a good and bad thing. This falls under the "the political system we have is flawed, but we can't magically pretend it doesn't exist and act according to our own fantasyland versions of reality" thing that I keep saying over and over. So yes, if you want a role in shaping the Democratic candidates who emerge from a Democratic primary process, you will usually register as a Democrat, and nobody has forced you to do that. It's that simple.

Likewise as a general programming note: I'm trying to cut back on politics a bit right now, because I don't have the spoons/bandwidth/mental health to deal with it. I apologize. So if you've sent me a politics-related ask recently and haven't received a response, I'm not deliberately or maliciously ignoring you; I just am not able to handle it as much as usual and will have to put it on pause. However, I feel as if this is important enough to be worth saying, so, yeah.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts

[idyllic-ghost]

title: What A Man (What A Mighty Good Man) pairing: idol!S.Coups x gn!reader genre: fluff, comedic, suggestive warnings: BSS drunk karaoke, second-hand embarrassment, pet names (pretty, babe, baby, etc.), alcohol mentions, mentions of explicit material, implied that reader is smaller than cheol (cheol can carry reader over his shoulder), reader has a bit of a lumberjack fantasy about cheol synopsis: Everyone knows you're down bad for Seungcheol, it's just extra obvious when you're drunk. wordcount: 2k taglist: @enhacolor, @shuabby1994, @junhui-recs, @dkakapizzaboy, @just-here-to-read-01, @loviehan, @userjunhuii, @novalpha, @bubblymoon, @aaniag, @d0nghyuck, @fantasy2wonderland, @seunghancore, @woozixo, @niktwazny303, @lllucere, @uniq-tastic, @wonwoospartyhat, @stariightjoyy, @hyneyedfiz, @cali-snow, @pearlygraysky, @crazywittysassy, @yeosayang

rating: 18+

a/n: idk why i wrote this, i was just listening to the song and then i got the idea- procrastinating on work is my biggest source of motivation for writing

join my taglist

masterlists

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Seungcheol knew that tonight would end in chaos as soon as he saw the karaoke machine. Whoever thought it was a good idea to put in a karaoke machine in the living room area of the vacation home, was immensely wrong. He knew that at least a couple people in the group were going to start using it after a few drinks tonight, and luckily managed to get one of the bedrooms in the smaller cabins nearby instead of one in the main building. However, he didn't expect that one of the people who would hop on the karaoke machine would be you.

It was already getting late when Soonyoung, Seungkwan, and Seokmin had "discovered" the karaoke machine. One of the members, or maybe even one of their partners, had attempted to hide it under a blanket - to no avail, seeing as the three of them were able to sniff it out.

It all started with a solo from Seungkwan, which Soonyoung joined in on. Soon enough, the entirety of BSS was singing together once Seokmin had joined them. Once the song finished, everyone expected them to start singing again soon enough - but they didn't expect to hear your voice echo from the speakers.

Seungcheol sat in the corner of the room, talking to Joshua about how nice it was going to be to spend some quiet time alone with you, when he heard "Whatta Man" by Salt-N-Pepa and En Vogue start playing over the systems. At first, he thought nothing of it - maybe he was a little surprised that Soonyoung knew all of the words to the first verse, but there was nothing in particular that got his attention from his conversation. That was, until you started on the second verse.

"My man is smooth like Barry and his voice got bass. A body like Arnold with a Denzel face-"

Your voice was giggly, but you surprisingly managed to sing all of the words quite clearly . Joshua snorted as he looked up to the mini-stage that Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungkwan had made out of a few tables. Seungcheol didn't dare look up at first, but it was impossible to ignore your loud voice over the speakers. As soon as he lifted his gaze to meet yours, your face lit up. From your face, Seungcheol could tell that you were drunk - he could tell that you were very drunk from the way you danced as if no one was watching... despite everyone definitely watching.

"Yeah, the ritual, highway to Heaven. From 7 to 7, he's got me open like 7-11," you shouted into the microphone while pointing to him.

Soonyoung was on the floor, dying from laughter, Seokmin was staring at the lyrics on the screen, and Seungkwan was singing back-up vocals while you kept going. Eventually, Seungcheol excused himself from his conversation with Joshua to walk to the front of the room. While he only thought this was cute, he knew that you would be embarrassed as all hell in the morning. It was time to put this to a stop. Seungkwan had since taken over, while you were holding your arms over your head and moving your hips in circles - completely unaware of the eyes on you, despite the many whoop's and wolf whistles. When you saw him approach, you stopped what you were doing and bounced over to him.

"Seungcheollie~," you slurred directly into the microphone. "You're a mighty-mighty good man!"

"Uh-huh." Seungcheol looked up at you, holding his hands out to catch you in case you fell off the table you were standing on. "I think you're ready for bed, pretty."

"Noooo," you whined as your boyfriend managed to take the microphone from you. "The song isn't done yet..."

Seungkwan and Soonyoung were still singing, while Seokmin was still looking at the lyrics and shouting out words at random, and not paying attention to you anymore. With a sigh, Seungcheol put the mic down on the ground - though he couldn't hide his big smile as he looked back up to see that you had started dancing again. He managed to take ahold of you, grabbing your legs and putting your body over his shoulder.

"Cheollie, nooo..."

Seungcheol excused himself to the room of people, and didn't wait for their response before going away to the bedroom the two of you had picked out. To get you more comfortable before he carried out in the chilly night, he maneuvered you to sit with your legs wrapped around his waist. Your face naturally found its way to the crook of his neck, and he heard you let out a delighted sigh as he hugged you a little tighter. He managed to put on his slippers without looking - or at least he thought it was his slippers - and decided to leave your shoes there to be picked up in the morning.

"Comfy?" he asked.

You hummed in response, and Seungcheol opened the door to step outside. The walk to the cabin wasn't far but it was getting pretty cold outside, and you shivered in his arms.

"We'll get you in bed soon, baby," he cooed at you.

"Seungcheol," you said in a very serious tone - you definitely hadn't heard what he had just said.

"Yeah?"

"Why aren't you a lumberjack man?" You lifted your upper body up to look at him.

"Why am I not a what now?" Seungcheol laughed, doing his best to give you his attention while still keeping you off the ground. "A lumberjack man?"

"You're so strong- you can definitely carry wood for a living." You gripped onto his biceps. "And you'd have, like, a husky or something... not that Kkuma isn't cute, she should come with us too... and we'd live in the woods- I think it'd be very hot of you."

"Are you fantasizing about me as a lumberjack man?" He opened the door to the cabin and stepped inside. "I thought I already was a mighty good man."

"Oh, you are." As he set you down on the bed, you refused to let him go - your arms wrapped around his neck to keep him close to you. "I just wanna watch you chop wood."

Despite you smelling of alcohol, Seungcheol pressed a kiss to your lips. His heart melted as he saw your big smile when he pulled away. As if his kiss was the password for you to unlock your arms, you let him go. Your eyes stayed on Seungcheol as he walked around the room, preparing for the night. He went into the bathroom to grab the painkillers you had brought and when he came back out, you were still looking at him. Your legs were crossed, leaning back on your arms, and your head was cocked to the side. As if he wasn't looking right at you, you looked him up and down - very obviously undressing him with your eyes.

"Babe," he said, interrupting your staring. "Get your pajamas."

"You're not going to undress me?" You pouted.

You were that kind of drunk. Seungcheol sighed and walked over to your bag, taking out your pajama pants and a t-shirt. While he was usually always intrigued whenever you tried to initiate something, tonight was not the case. You were almost too drunk to stand up straight, so no amount of complimenting his strong arms or fluttering your eyes at him was going to make Seungcheol give in. Still, he agreed to help undress you - and did so quickly, while you giggled as you tried to interrupt him.

Your hands never left his skin as he guided you around the room to get you ready for bed. After successfully getting you to brush your teeth, it was time for your skincare. He sat you down on the counter in the bathroom to help you, all the while you were feeling up his arms and shoulders. It was a little distracting, but Seungcheol put all of his energy to get your face clean. His hands were gentle as they traced the features of your face, and you closed your eyes in pure bliss.

"Maybe you shouldn't be a lumberjack man," you muttered.

"No? Why not?"

"Your hands are so gentle," you whispered, as if it was a secret.

You let go of his arms to start touching his hands instead. Seungcheol tried his best to keep your hands away from his own, but you were relentless. With your hands on top of his, you pressed them against your cheeks. They almost covered your entire face, but you didn't seem to mind.

"Soft hands," you muttered. "Wow, you're warm."

"Baby, just let me do the last step..." He sighed and removed his hands from you to pick up your face lotion. "You're a menace when you're drunk."

"Can you cuddle me when we go to bed?" you asked sweetly, ignoring what he had just said again. "I want to steal your warmth."

"Sure, babe." He looked up at you with a soft smile. "Now, close your eyes again."

Once you were tucked under the covers, he got you a glass of water. When you saw him, standing in front of you with a glass of water and looking tired, your eyes started tearing up. Seungcheol was quick to crouch down, putting the water on the bedside table, and reaching out to cup your face in his hands.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he cooed.

"You really are a good man," you mumbled with a pout. "Like- not just in the hot way."

Seungcheol hung his head down to hide his laugh from you. If you had seen him laughing at you, he knew that you'd take it as a personal attack. He looked back at you, trying to keep a straight face.

"You deserve the best, alright?" He let you go and picked up the glass of water again. "Now, drink up. I'll get you another glass for you to drink in the morning."

You nodded, tears still in your eyes over his sweet act, and started drinking. After putting painkillers and another glass of water on the bedside table by your side of the bed, Seungcheol got ready for bed. When he crawled into bed, minutes later, you were already half asleep. He kept his promise, and cuddled up next to you. You snuggled your head against his chest, and put your cold feet against his legs. Seungcheol froze up, but was careful not to make a sound as you were about to fall asleep. He knew that you were going to hate yourself in the morning, that you were going to ask him a million questions about what you had done, but now you looked so peaceful and he hoped that you could stay like that for as long as possible.

✦ . B O N U S . ✦

Breakfast was set out in the living room of the main house, made by the few that weren't experiencing a hungover that morning. You walked in behind Seungcheol, wearing one of his hoodies with the hood pulled up and sunglasses sitting on the bridge of your nose to protect you from the strong sunlight. As soon as a few people saw the two of you, they started singing:

"Whatta man, whatta man, whatta mighty good man!"

You groaned and reluctantly sat down by the table, apologizing to everyone that was there about your drunken behavior the night before. People started joking around about it and while you were embarrassed, you couldn't help but to laugh at their jokes.

"Seriously, Seungcheol, you should be proud." Chan said from beside you. "No sane person would ever get up on a table and sing that song like that to a person, if they weren't down bad for them."

You slapped Chan's arm lightly, but you knew it was true. Choi Seungcheol was a mighty good man, and you were 100% down bad for him.

#svt #svthub #kvanity #seventeen #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop writer #svt fluff #fanfic #seungcheol smut #seventeen seungcheol #seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol #seungcheol fluff #bee buzzed εїз✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[respectthepetty]

Dunk and Joong could have offered me anything in 2024, and I would have taken it, gladly, no questions because my ass is a Jaidee fan first and a human second. But to hand me The Heart Killers? Oh! Let me list all the reasons y'all gonna hate me when this comes out.

Joong plays Khao's older brother

Khaotung is older than Joong, but in BL Land that doesn't matter because Khao is playing the hopeless romantic little brother while Joong is playing his stern older brother. Someone already wrote it was 10 Things I Hate About You/The Taming of the Shrew, and Shakespeare would be thrilled to know one of his masterpieces is getting the queer treatment and it's not Twelfth Night.

Dunk is playing the crazy seducer

Boy wants a car and is willing to go to great lengths to do it, including distracting some dude, so his buddy can play house with that dude's little brother. But the whole point is they had to find a guy who was crazy enough to accept the offer in the first place >insert Dunk's character< so the guy isn't just wanting the car. He is doing this for the thrill of getting tied up, stripped down, and threatened.

And I respect that.

Jojo is apparently directing

I wanna have beef with Jojo after Only Friends, then I look at his resume and remember this is the man who gave me puppy play in The Warp Effect, poly in 3 Will Be Free, and a chaotic stripper named Judo in Dirty Laundry PLUS the YinWar trailer for their Partner in Crime concert which has now lead to YinWar doing Jack & Joker, so as a vegetarian, I'm gonna be like Elsa and let that go.

Which means Rath is probably the cinematographer

I don't give men compliments easily, so when I state that Cinematographer Rath has never disappointed me, I mean it. The man knows what he is doing, and if he is in on this series, I know if anything, it will be visually stunning.

First and Khao being the Beyonce of GMMTV

I'm in Jaidee's corner always, but I have eyes and First and Khao could really do whatever they want and I'd eat it up. I have believed them with whomever they have been partnered with in the past, and if they want to play high schoolers in an oppressed school system or a banker willing to see his ex and his ex's new man just to flirt with the boy from the market, I'm buying the tickets, I'm sitting in the front row, and I'm holding up homemade posters. Basically, I'm shutting the fuck up and experiencing whatever they want me to experience.

First and Khao tears

This is its own category because when they cry, they are in a league of their own. They claimed this series was going to be lighter than their previous work, but what is a First or Khao series without tears? I hope they are drinking water right now because someone is crying in this series, and JD's faces are already wet for other reasons.

DUNK'S BODY!

Not to objectify the man's body, but . . . it's a banger, and he has been done dirty by wardrobe for two solid years. His face card never declines. His arms are solid. His waist is snatched. His hair is perfect. Even Tay, New, and Jan were talking about him in the BTS for Peaceful Property because they were saying how New's character was based off of Dunk - pretty, fashionable, and COCKY! But wouldn't we all be that cocky if we were walking around looking like this?! Like shut up fives. A ten is speaking!

It's high time that man got to stunt like Force always does just taking off his shirt for no reason. Good for him. And good for us.

Oh, yeah, and the plot

Sorry, I mean the plot.

SHIT, THE PLOT!

You know what? Nah. I honestly do not give a fuck about the plot. Joong and Khao are hired killers. First is out to get them. Dunk gets involved (although, I think he knows a lot more than he leads on), and . . .

All will end well.

Because if anything, Jojo ain't never been allergic to a happy ending *wink*

So just know this show hit its target audience

ME!

¡Salud!

#the heart killers #gmmtv 2024 #joongdunk #firstkhao #this was meant for me! #rath and jojo save me! #give me chaos and visuals #I'll take whatever you give me #I'm still gotta talk smack about everything else #but I'll be quieter about it

[thepersonnamedsam]

hiii, love your stuff<33 could I maybe request a gen z reader blurb where after getting in a crash due to a mechanical issue everyone worries about her and she’s pissed because she felt seen as weak and vulnerable?? THANK U SO MUCH

life goes on

pairing: genz!driver x '23!grid and some seb cameo

summary: see request :)

word count: 2.1k

warnings: crash, blood, injury, anger issues, tears (idk if that’s a warning), media talks bad about genz!driver, foul language

note: thank you so much for the request!! i am not quite sure if i should write the genz!driver stories in a you pov or a she/her pov, what would you prefer, please let me know, ty :))

masterlist / taglist

It started with a bad day. FP1 was shit, FP2 was also not great. Her day was just not great. Free practice 3 was better, the car had finally responded to her again. In the first two laps, everything went smooth. She was already singing Smooth Operator in her head. But suddenly the car stirred, luckily she saved herself and didn’t crash, but she did retire from the session.

Her engineer and her sat together for Qualifying. She told him everything she noticed whilst driving.

„I feel like the steering wheel is not responding on time. It’s like it’s two seconds delayed, which is not good.“

He nodded and wrote it down on a notepad. „I feel like there’s nothing we can do, I can check with the mechanics, but qualifying is in two hours, which may not be enough time“, her race engineer told her. She sighed. The last two days were bad for y/n, she hasn’t slept good for at least four days. She nodded and told him that she’d be in her drivers room.

As qualifying started, she only got in one good lap before she had to retire. She was right, her steering wheel indeed had a slight delay. Which made turning corners very hard. She ended Q1 in P19, her worst result in qualifying yet. She was disappointed, in herself and in the car.

Her mechanics tried to fix the issue until the race started, but with no hope. She prepared herself for the race, knowing it would not be an easy one. She was scared, like scared shitless. She tried to call Sebastian during Q2, but he did not pick up. Opting for a quick text, she asked him to call her back as soon as possible.

Lewis heard what happened to y/n car during Q1 and wanted to comfort the young driver. With long strides he went to her motorhome. Her engineer just pointed to her drivers room as soon as he saw Lewis approach him. Three short knocks. Her head snapped up as the door opened. Lewis was standing there, looking pitiful and held his arms out.

„Are you okay, darling?“, he asked her as she nuzzled her head in his shoulders. She let her tears fall freely. Shaking her head she told him how she felt. „The steering wheel is delayed, which is so difficult to drive with and also dangerous. But my mechanics can’t fix it, they don’t know why it’s happening and a whole reboot of the system would take too long! I’m scared, Lewis. I don’t know what to do.“

His hand firm on her backside, he just held the young woman. Telling her to retire to not cause a crash would’ve been the best thing. Tell her to refuse to race. But he didn’t, knowing the girl and her ambitions. She would race, no matter what. She didn’t want to be seen as weak or even worse, girly.

She was girly, but not in the sense of racing. She was just as ‚manly‘ as the other drivers.

„I know that you will make the right decision about the whole situation“, Lewis told her. Oh, how wrong he was.

Q3 was finished with Verstappen on pole, as always, Perez on P2 and Leclerc on P3. Happy to see Charles starting this high, she went into the race with somewhat a good feeling. The first three laps were okay, she sank down to P20, DeVries overtook her with ease on the second corner, as she slowed down as much as possible to control the car. But the longer the race was, the more angry she got. It was not fair, the steering wheel was just not responding.

On lap 24 y/n’s car crashed. In corner eight, her steering wheel stopped working. Instead of a turn, the car just went straight into the pit wall. The front wing smashed against the wall, squashing it against her own car. Her head was spinning. What just happened?

„Red flag, the FIA just announced a red flag in corner eight. Seems like y/l/n crashed. Let’s hope she’s fine.“

Several team radios went through.

„Charles, y/n crashed in corner eight, there’s a red flag, be careful.“

„Lewis, there is a red flag.“

„Be careful, Max. You are approaching corner eight where y/n has had a crash.“

And many more. Everyone was concerned. What has happened? What did she do to crash her car like that. Was she responsive? Responsible? What was going on?

„y/n, please respond. The race has been stopped. What happened?“, her race engineer tried to speak to her, she was non-responsive.

„What the fuck, what happened?! Is she responsive? Are the medics on their way?“, Lewis was the first to address the situation. „We don’t know, we don’t see any medics yet, Lewis.“

And as Max pulled up to corner eight he hopped out of his car. He ran towards hers and yelled for her, to show him a sign that she was still alive, without a response. He was worried, he was always worried when someone crashed, but he was extra worried when she did.

„y/n! What happened? Are you okay? Please give me a sign!“, he tried it again, with no luck. He saw her helmet move, the flashy colours moving from side to side. „Ach godzijdank Ah, thank god“, he mumbled.

The medics arrived and ushered Max to the side. Taking her out of the car and laying her on a spinal board. Transporting her into the ambulance.

She was devastated. It was not her fault she crashed. But the media didn’t know that. They would accuse her of crashing yet another car. That she wasn’t good enough to be in Formula 1. They would report about her as if she wasn’t a human being and just something they could play with. They would talk about her like a doll. It was not fair.

Meanwhile on the paddock the talking began. Lewis was the most worried, he should’ve just told her to refuse racing. What if she suffered a serious injury? Like a neck or spine injury and couldn’t race anymore. It was his fault, that’s what he thought.

Lando was worried too, not really knowing what happened, he was just worried. She could be injured. The minutes went by without any news from her. They were hard for Lando.

Even Checo, who wasn’t usually a companion of y/n, was worried. He didn’t see what happened, but he heard from Max how the crash looked - bad, it looked bad.

„We hear from the medics; y/n is okay. At least that. Let’s hope the race will continue without another crash.“

Lewis released a breather, not knowing he heals so much air in his lungs. He was glad y/n was okay. He still felt bad, always feeling responsible for her. And now that she crashed, his head was spinning with gut wrenching thoughts and worry.

The FIA announced the green flag and the race continued without y/n. When she got back to her garage, her motorhome, she expected a angry team principal, angry mechanics and engineers, expect she was greeted with relieved sighs and shoulder droppings. Her engineer was the first one to embrace her. He told her how sorry he was and how everything was definitely not her fault.

She was still angry, no points, no race, no happy ending for that day. Everything was shit. She had a shit day that race. And it was not even her own fault.

Her team principal came towards her, gripping her shoulders hard and said: „I know this seems bad, it is, but we can fix it. I wish I could send you home, but media still awaits.“

So she waited, she waited lap after lap until eventually Max won the race. She waited until her PR got her out of the drivers room and took her to the media pen, where the post race conferences will be held.

Sky Sports interviewed the todays winner. So, y/n waited for Max to finish. She hoped he would never finish, that she would never have to face the camera and talk about the incident.

But that didn’t happen.

„Hello y/n, how do you feel? Everything okay, no pain?“, the nice interviewer asked her. „Uh, yeah, everything is fine“, she struggled with her answer, not believing herself that everything was fine.

„Can you tell me what happened? We just saw you crashing?“ - „Uhm, yeah“, she looked towards her media PR, what was she allowed to say? She shook her head - no bad words about her team. „I-, uh, I lost control of my steering wheel.“

The interviewer nodded. „We saw you retire from the race after Q1, having struggled already in FP1 and 2. Did you have problems with your steering wheel during them as well?“

She sighed. She was tired, her neck ached and she just wanted to be in her bed.

„I mean, kind of, yeah you could say I struggled with it during free practice.“

If she told the interviewer that she struggled with it during the whole yesterday and today, she would’ve bad mouthed the team.

„Last question for today, y/n. We asked Twitter for some comments, would you be so kind to make a statement to some of them?“

She really didn’t want to, knowing exactly what most of them had to say; women don’t belong in motorsports, etc.

„Sure“, she sighed. Her PR nodded, happy that y/n decided not to refuse.

„Alright, @motodports_2 said: That’s the second time this season that y/n crashed her car and we are only on the 7th race. What do you have to say to that?“

She closed her eyes, the headache creeping in like a madman with a desire to kill. „That’s true, that was the second crash of the season. And I am sorry for that, my team doesn’t deserve me crashing that many times during the season. I apologise.“

Sebastian was sitting at home, watching the race from his couch. He couldn’t believe what she was saying. The team doesn’t deserve a driver that crashes so much? Bullshit.

He missed her calls earlier that day, he wished he would’ve picked up his phone or at least called her back. But what she was telling to that interviewer was absolute bull.

Charles, who was next in line, also couldn’t believe the stuff you were telling Sky Sports.

„Okay, @maydrive says: The way y/n is throwing away her career in F1 with those shenanigans. Get a grip, will you?“, the interviewer read from the screen in front.

Charles was shocked, he never had to respond to any comments like that. How was she experiencing something like that?

„Uh yeah, thank you @maydrive for that. I will try to get a grip, and you are right, I am throwing away my F1 career like that, but I don’t want that, that’s why I will keep trying to get better“, her eyes were starting water. Just don’t let those tears fall, y/n. They want to see her cry, don’t give them the satisfaction of it.

„Thank you, y/n. Rest up and good evening!“

Her PR pulled her away and onto the next interview. After all that, she was exhausted. Exhausted and angry. How could they be asking her questions like that? Not fair.

Back in her garage, she let the emotions flow. Tears were streaming down her face, sobs were heard and her body was shaking. Her PR handed y/n her phone, leaving her again with a gentle pat to the shoulder.

Seb was calling her.

„Before you say anything, don’t let them treat you like that ever again. Not your fault, if you had problems with the steering wheel, it is not your place to apologise“, Seb interrupted her, before she could even sob into the phone. He heard sniffles. „Don’t cry, liebes dear. You did nothing wrong today.“

„Seb, I wish you’d be here“, she sobbed into the phone. It broke his heart. Comforting someone over the phone was hard, much more if the person being comforted was a teenager.

„It’s gonna be okay, life goes on, okay?“, he told her. „I just feel so weak and vulnerable. They hate me, they always find something wrong with my driving.“

„You are not weak! Who told you that?“, a voice from behind her sounded from the dark. Fernando Alonso stepped out of the shadow. Seb instantly recognised the older spaniards voice over the phone. Glad y/n was not alone in a time like this.

Fernando embraced her. Hugging her tight and firmly. He felt her heartbeat against his chest, beating like crazy. „Breathe with me, y/n.“

They were standing in her motorhome, embraced in one another. If a camera had noticed, headliners would say: Alonso and y/l/n dating confirmed? But there was no camera around.

She had her family here in F1. She belonged here, just as much as any other driver. She was not at fault. She was not weak or vulnerable. She was strong.

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @missskid , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23

#f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #fernando alonso #gen z problems #gen z funny #genz!driver #female driver #genz driver #crash #f1 crash

[y-rhywbeth2]

D&D Vampire Lore Dump #1

Feeding and Diet It's actually more complicated than just "they bite you and eat your blood." Plus what they're able to eat; how often they need to eat; what happens to you if they bite you and what happens to them if they don't feed- spoiler: it's unpleasant. Incidentally, you should reload and kill Cazador again.

(I was comparing stuff across editions and compiling it into something more coherent and then figured I'd info dump about it in case my fixations are useful to somebody out there.)

DISCLAIMER: There are two things to note about the lore presented here: First, while the standard stat block in the monster manual is the default, in terms of lore vampires have this annoying tendency to be incredibly, stupidly varied. They are magical monstrosities ruled by the power of symbolism and superstition above anything else.

The next is that D&D is decades old, spans five editions, several settings and hundreds of writers. One guy establishes a piece of lore, and then the next picks it up goes "nah" and writes something else. I collected info from four different source books, all from different editions, which naturally don't entirely agree on how vampires work. Lore never stays consistent and may contradict itself. You may see information somewhere else from a source I don't have that contradicts what I wrote here. If you read this and like some of this stuff but not other bits, take the good and ditch the rest.

Basically, in D&D, canon is what you decide it is.

Feeding | "Biology" | Hierarchy | Weaknesses and Cures | Psychology

They only need to feed once in a 24 hour period. Vampires can survive between 3-9 months of starvation, but it's a terrible idea. -

There are three different categories of "Undead Hunger." Vampires have two of them and actually need to consume more than one thing to stay "healthy": Blood and life force. -

The blood is obvious. This is categorised as a "diet dependency." It's required to preserve their bodies and powers, and without it their powers* are suppressed as their bodies begin to shut down. *This refers to the powers a vampire gains with age; they cannot lose power they had as a newborn (the base stat blocks given for vampires and spawn given in the monster manual) A vampire requires the equivalent of 12 hit points of blood a day, or it begins to revert into a corpse-like state. Mentally they slowly regress into a desperate, mindless animal frenzy where they'll kill and drain anything containing blood they can get their hands on. Ultimately, if they don't get any blood then they revert into a corpse and they're trapped in their own body as it begins to wither and mummify. They're trapped in a coma, vaguely aware of the passing of time in flashes of awareness until somehow they are fed blood. If they ever wake up again, they will probably wake up feral and absolutely ravenous. -

Vampires rely on the victim's blood pressure to expel blood from the wound they create, lapping and mouthing at the wound rather than actually sucking on it. Being bitten is a highly pleasurable experience that victims can't help but desire, even when they know they shouldn't. -

While the damage done remains, the wounds from a Vampire bite closes itself quickly after the feeding (assuming you're still alive). It does however leave a mark. The bite mark itself is often "less than half an inch in length", and leaves behind a significant bruise that causes no pain or sensitivity to touch. Other side effects include fatigue and a weakened immune system. -

Vampires typically target sleeping victims (less likely to fight back) and favour the blood of their own race above others. So theoretically, Astarion finds elf blood tastes best. -

Drinking animal blood tastes bland and is health-wise akin to drinking tainted water: yes it might keep you alive in desperate times, but it's ultimately bad for you and will probably make you ill. That said, it has no mechanical detriments and a vampire that's forced to live on animal blood will be just as strong as its kin, but considerably bad tempered about it. -

A vampire's secondary feeding requirement is called an "inescapable craving", which means that if a vampire doesn't get that fix then their hunger begins to devour them instead. The pain is described as a spike boring into the vampire's brain, obscuring their awareness. They begin to obsess over feeding to the exclusion of everything else, they become willing to take ridiculous levels of risk to stop the hunger as they become more and more desperate. As they are consumed they become progressively more feral until they're just a rampaging mindless horror driven only by horrific hunger. For vampires, their inescapable craving is life force, which a vampire leeches from their prey through touch leaving the victim weak. Direct skin contact isn't required, if you're wearing full plate and/or the vampire is wearing gloves and they lay a hand on you they can still drain you. Mechanically these were combat abilities, energy/level draining occurred when a vampire struck a target with their own body (usually their hands). Before 5e hit them with a nerf bat, vampires could permanently weaken you this way (you could lose character levels from this). 5e also seems to have rolled life drain into the biting, so a vampire can consume your blood and energy at the same time. -

Post feeding, a vampire starts to look alive. Their skin is flushed and warm and they feel elated and energetic. In contrast, a vampire that hasn't been feeding properly becomes more corpse like and feels "sluggish" (I'm interpreting that as flu-like symptoms). It's purely emotional however, the vampire is no less capable and dangerous and suffers no mechanical penalties. -

Vampires can feed on other vampires, which is actually more filling than living humanoid blood and gives them the ability to communicate telepathically for a few hours. They don't like it though. If a vampire drinks from another vampire then they can be controlled by that vampire and the link forces them to feel affection for each other against their will until it wears off. The results of both vampires in question feeding on each other is described as "debilitating" since they both paradoxically become enslaved to the other's will and forced to "love" each other creating an absolute dysfunctional mess of control, obsession and resentment. The good news is that it only lasts a few hours. -

Some vampires can eat regular food (no nutritional value in it for them) while others would regurgitate it if they tried. As they retain their tongues, vampires can also taste food. That said, it's a bad idea for them to eat garlic, even if they can eat solid food. -

Some kinds of vampires don't drink blood. There's all kinds of weird and wonderful stuff a vampire might be required to consume instead. Spinal fluid stands out. Or the bit about ones who drain the ocular fluid from your eyes. Gale might find interesting things to talk about with the magic eating ones who prey on mages. They're much less common, probably something to do with most people not finding that very sexy. I don't think any of them exist on Toril.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion #vampire tav #long post #the screaming into the void will continue until the hyperfixation is out of my system

[apomaro-mellow]

I finally wrote about stobin carhops

“I can’t believe we got another job using one resume”, Steve said.

“I can’t believe you said we were managers at Scoops”, Robin said.

“How are they gonna check, Robs?”

“Good point. You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

The new job at a local burger joint was decidedly in the ballpark of both of their abilities. The only drawback for Robin was....the skates.

“So these are a requirement? Not like, a suggestion?”, she asked, looking at the roller skates warily. Steve was already lacing up.

“They are in fact a requirement”, Cheryl, their current manager said.

Robin slipped and slid while on wheels. Which was why for about 90% of their first shift, she rolled along arm in arm with Steve.

“What’s even the point of having someone skate your food to you? I mean it seems like a total novelty. Purely for shits and giggles for customers.”

“You nailed it. It’s novelty.” As they rolled around the lot, Steve used the hand that was free to deliver food to the different cars. Robin used her free hand to write down the orders.

This system worked for about a week before Cheryl told them they couldn’t do that anymore. The very next day, Robin dropped five orders (two of which were on purpose) and was removed from her carhop responsibilities.

She kept her post at the register and the pick up window.

The uniform consisted of a white polo-style shirt with red accents. Most of the staff wore red pants to match. Some of the girls beat the heat with red shorts though.

“What are you wearing?”, Robin asked when Steve clocked in one day in those very same shorts.

“Uh, the uniform?”

“Uh-huh. Feelin’ the heat lately?”

“It’s been pretty warm the past few days”, Steve said.

“And I best the change has nothing to do with the fact Eddie said he’d be by on your lunch break today.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Steve tried to look neutral but his voice was way too chipper for someone who had to smell grease this early in the morning.

Robin knew for sure Eddie had arrived. She didn’t have a full view of the lot when she was at the register but she did see Steve lose control and skate right into a light pole. That could only mean Eddie was nearby. She let them have their lunch alone, knowing they would be sickeningly lovey-dovey the whole time.

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

“You know....”, Steve started. “I bet Vickie would lose it if you were in shorts.”

“Actually, she said my teeth are my best feature”, Robin smiled wide.

“You two are so weird”, Steve laughed through it while mopping the floor.

“This from the guy who spent two whole hours staring at his boyfriend’s hands.”

“I didn’t-”

“TWO HOURS!”

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

Steve let out a sigh when he saw that Eddie had driven Erica along as well.

“You already know”, Erica said. “Chocolate vanilla swirl.”

“Erica, I know I said free ice cream for life but-”

“But nothing. You thought you could get out of it by switching jobs. But karma always finds its way back.”

“I don’t think me working at a fast food place is karma. Right?”, Steve looked to Eddie, like he was worried this really was the work of cosmic forces.

“I don’t know...” Eddie leaned out of his open window to get a better look at Steve’s legs. “Feels like karma to me.”

Steve grinned when he noticed being checked out and leaned in towards the window. He opened his mouth but Erica beat him to it.

“You can flirt when you’re not on the clock. Ice cream. Chop chop!”

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

It was a slow day for once, so Robin and Steve were sitting on the hood of his car, sharing some fries between them.

“What do you think our next job is gonna be?”, Steve asked.

“I think after this we should branch out. Maybe go for the federal government? Or at least look for managerial positions.”

“Would a place hire two managers at once?”

“One for the day shift and one for the night?”, Robin said, pointing at herself for day and Steve for night.

“But then we’re not gonna see each other.”

“Shoot, you’re right. What about working as mail carriers? You drive, I’ll put them in the box.”

“That’s actually perfect.”

“Great!”, Robin exclaimed. “So when this place burns down or gets destroyed by a quake-”

“Or a flood, or a tornado, or another fire-”

“Point is, we already know what our fallback is. And it’s perfect because everybody always needs mail.”

“It’s kind of crazy how we’ve never been fired. And that our past work places have been leveled”, Steve said. “I really think we could put anything on our resumes at this point.”

“Lemme get a couple of college credits before we start lying to get better jobs.”

“So another couple of months?”

“And you’ll be talking to the new CEO of something or other.”

“Co-CEO”, Steve reminded her, holding up a medium soda.

“Co-CEOs”, Robin tapped hers to his in a toast.

@little-gae-shit

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #platonic stobin #steddie #robin buckley #steve harrington

[a-kaash-me-outside]

not fair - ch1

in which your boyfriend is perfect in every single way... except for one and kei can't just sit back and watch you suffer... ch1 | next [masterlist]

// "i don't know if you could handle me" ~ ᴛsᴜᴋɪsʜɪᴍᴀ ᴋᴇɪ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 9731 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter/tw: 18+ super nfsw!, cheating (seriously, major plot point), use of character first names (idk what got into me when i wrote this 3 years ago), degradation, choking, face-fucking, dom/sub undertones, face slapping, stop light system, squirting, dirty talk, mentions of unconscious fucking, the smallest amount of plot that becomes more prevalent as the chapters continue on, soft after sex kei, cross posted from ao3, afab reader she/her pronouns

send an ask and i’ll add ya to the taglist! ~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

It wasn’t unusual for Kei to be over while Tadashi was out of town. It happened quite frequently, actually. You two were best friends, even before Tadashi was in the picture. You never let anything come between you two, not even Tadashi. Tadashi understood too. He was never jealous of the time that you spent together or accusing towards the two of you and flirting remarks you would pass. You and Kei were just… well, you and Kei.

But tonight was different. Tonight, you were in yours and Tadashi’s bedroom, which wasn’t the unusual part. Tonight, you were both on the bed, which also wasn’t the unusual part. Tonight, you were sitting with your chin on Kei’s chest and your leg between his legs, your knee resting on his crotch. This wasn’t even an unusual position for the two of you, who often would press yourselves together in intimate positions. Tonight, you finally admitted to Kei that Tadashi has only made you come twice in the entire time that you’ve been together. 

“What? Like, dating? Or?” Kei asks, his eyebrows furrowed together, looking thoroughly disgusted and confused, “because it could just be that you’re both too soft n-.”

“Like, ever, Kei,” you interrupt, looking just as confused and disgusted as Kei was. 

“That’s horrible,” he scoffs, “You just let that happen?”

“I don’t let it happen, Kei. It just happens.” You rest your head completely on his chest, sighing dramatically. “He’s amazing. He’s incredible. He’s so nice and he’s kind and he’s pretty and he’s everything that I need!” 

Kei scoffs again at your words, “but he can’t make you come?”

“But he can’t make me come,” you repeat, shaking your head against Kei’s chest and then look back up at him. “I just, I haven’t gotten off from someone else in so long. Only me, alone, in the bathroom.”

“That’s so sad,” Kei says, the disgusted look still lingering.

“What else am I supposed to do about it?” you groan, frustrated. 

“Get someone else to fuck you,” Kei shrugs. He doesn’t laugh or hint at a joke. He’s being serious.

“Wha- What? I can’t do that…,” you hide your face from Kei, ensuring that he doesn’t see the redness on your cheeks.

“Sure you can. Look, you have needs, okay. He can’t satisfy them. You just have someone else do it.”

“I don’t trust anyone enough to do that.” You feel horrible even contemplating the option. A terrible light bulb goes off in your head. 

“You…,” you start, hesitantly. Kei’s eyes widen immediately at the start of your sentence. 

“No. No, absolutely not. He’s my best friend,” Kei shakes his head.

“You’re my best friend,” you say, softly. “I don’t trust anyone else! You said it yourself. I have needs, Kei. He can’t satisfy them. I have to find someone else to do it.”

“You’re really going to use my own words against me?” 

“Yes,” you state so matter-of-factly. 

“No. I won’t,” he shakes his head, looking away from you, but not moving you from on top of him.

“Kei, please! I couldn’t do this with anyone else, but I’m just,” you take a deep breath, ready to lay all of your shame out on the table. “I need this. I’m so desperate, please.” Kei introduced this idea to you and so quickly you needed it to become a reality. You needed it to become a reality with Kei. 

Kei looks you over, your chin pressed against his sternum as he breaths. “Fine. You want to know the real reason?” Your interest is piqued. You tilt your head, curiously. 

“Hm?” You can’t believe you’re even having this conversation, but now you’re in too deep. 

“I don’t know if you can handle me,” Kei pushes you off of him and promptly gets off the bed. 

“Wha- What do you mean?!” You’re offended. He’s acting like you’ve never had sex with a condescendingly cold person before. You scoff at this statement, rolling your eyes dramatically, and standing up with him, following him.

“I mean, I don’t think you can handle me,” he repeats himself, not wavering his tone or message. He adds after a second of your angry face, “You’ve been with Tadashi for almost 2 years. You guys have probably been having vanilla, missionary sex, maybe doggy style if you’re feeling extra spicy, the entire time you’ve been together.” He waits for your objections before continuing, interrupting them, “I know I’m not wrong and I know Tadashi. He’s just as nice and “sorry, (y/n)!” in his day to day as he is in bed.” You’re silent. You know he’s not wrong. 

Tadashi has always been so accommodating and kind in every aspect of your relationship. He tries so hard in bed, he really does, but he’s made you cum maybe twice in your entire relationship with the help of yourself, though he would probably claim many more times than that seeing how often you fake it. You hate yourself for it, but you’ve tried so hard to teach him, to show him, to tell him exactly what you want and how to do it, but he never gets it. It’s exhausting and has been way easier to just to fake it and then finger yourself later in the bathroom after he’s gone to sleep.

You want Kei so badly. You want to come so badly and you know that right now is your only chance. “I- I can handle you.” Your voice is much more timid and much less convincing than you anticipate it being. 

“I don’t think you can.” Kei’s voice, in contrast, is steady and low, already causing your core to feel warm. 

“I can, Kei, I can. Please,” you hold onto his arm, looking up at his face, pleading, “please.” You sound much more confident, and also much more despairing as you whine for him. He looks at you for a few moments, his eyes trailing up and down your body and finally stopping on your eyes, searching for the overwhelming excitement and consent that he needs to move forward.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks. This is the final time he’s going to ask or question you. He needs you to be absolutely positive because he’s not going to hold back. You nod desperately. “Verbal consent, (y/n), I’m serious.”

“Yes, fuck, yes, Kei, please. I need this. Please, I can handle it, anything, please.” The string of words leaves your mouth quickly. Kei waits another few seconds after, giving you plenty of time to change your mind before closing the gap between you both. His lips are on yours and his tongue is in your mouth so quickly. He’s holding your jaw as he tastes every inch of the inside of your mouth. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, hard, allowing you to explore his mouth. His tongue is harsh against yours, but it feels so good. He pulls away abruptly, already lifting your shirt over your head and running his hands down your body, his hands sculpting around every curve. 

“If at any time this gets too much for you,” he presses kisses into your neck, nudging your chin upwards as he starts to softly roll the skin between his teeth. “Yellow means we’re moving to somewhere you’re uncomfortable with.” He licks your neck, pressing his entire tongue against your skin. When he pulls away, the air is cool against the freshly wet flesh. “Red means that you’re uncomfortable and you want to stop immediately.” He moves down to your collarbones, nibbling on them and breathing heavily against them. 

“If you can’t speak,” he grabs your hand and taps 3 distinct, hard times against your skin with two fingers. “3 taps, hard so that I can feel them without a doubt, and two fingers to know it’s intentional.” His eyes are on yours, his look stern and serious. “Do you understand?” You nod, overwhelmed with all of this information.

“(y/n), verbal consent. I don’t fuck around,” he says, his eyebrows raised expectantly. 

“Yes,” you nod confidently, despite the questions forming in the back of your mind. Maybe you couldn’t handle him. You weren’t expecting this level of safety precautions, maybe just a safeword considering how he made out that you couldn’t handle him. Maybe he was right. 

“Repeat.” Kei’s lips are back on your throat, sucking the skin so hard that you feel the bruises forming almost instantly. His hands are reached around to your back, one hand sliding down over your ass and the other unhooking your bra before you notice what he’s doing. He tosses it to the side and presses himself against you, your nipples dragging against the fabric of his shirt as he massages into the flesh of your ass. 

You can’t exactly think straight, but it’s important that you remember these even when you can’t think. “Y- Yellow means caution, that I’m starting to f- feel uncomfortable about something.” Kei digs his fingers into your flesh as he moves his head down, capturing your nipple in his mouth and twirling his tongue around it. “Fuck,” you moan, tilting your head back. 

He pulls away from your nipple, the cold air feeling even colder on your spit sheened nipple, causing it to get even harder. “What else?” 

You answer quickly, just wanting to feel his tongue on your nipples again. “Re- Red means that you- that I- I want you to stop because I’m- I don’t like it- I’m uncomfortable.” Your nipple is back in his mouth. He’s sucking on it with such purpose, the suction sending waves of pleasure through your body. 

“A- And, I’m going to, ta- tap on you to- to show you, but please, please don’t stop, Kei.” You grab onto his shoulder and tap with two fingers against his back, 3 times with enough force for him to feel them. He listens to you, nodding as you tap against him, but keeping your nipple in his mouth. He rolls it between his teeth, bringing his hand up to pinch the other one between his fingers. “Fuck,” you breath. 

He stops, coming back up to face you. “Good.” His fingers are making quick work of your button and zippers and are quickly in the waistband of your jeans, pulling them to the ground, but leaving you in your underwear. On his way back up, he runs his hand up the inside of your leg, following your ankle to your calf to your inner thigh leading to your pussy as he uses one finger to rub once between your slit, pressing harder into your clit, rubbing two circles before stopping and stepping backward. You can’t help but moan at this tiny, delicate touch. He’s still fully dressed and you’re suddenly aware of what you probably look like. Your instinct is to try to cover yourself up from Kei’s hungry eyes, but he starts rubbing his cock through his pants. Your eyes are drawn to the bulge in his jeans. You feel your panties get even wetter as you see how big the bulge is. You’re almost positive that Kei could see how much wetter you got, how the dark spot on your panties grew when he started rubbing himself. 

He pulls his own shirt off and you marvel at how toned his body is, how perfect his skin is. He takes a step towards you, his hard bulge only inches away from your thigh. Your breath stills. “Take them off, baby,” he encourages. You listen to him, beginning to lower yourself to your knees, but he holds your elbow, not allowing you to drop. “From here.” You’re confused at first until he uses his hand to rub in between your lips through your panties. “I want to be able to touch you.”

You nod, your breath skipping as you try your hardest to focus on undoing his buckle. It seems like such a difficult task right now, your mind completely infatuated with the feeling of Kei’s long finger rubbing against the doused fabric of your panties. You seriously can’t figure out how to undo his stupid buckle, but he just lets you struggle. You think that he’s being nice as he pulls his finger away, allowing you a moment to think straight, but he brings the finger up and sticks it into your mouth. “Suck,” he says, low. You listen, sucking on his finger, trying to multitask and undo his buckle. “Sloppier, baby,” he coerces. You listen again, your fingers on his buckle stilling and focus on the spit drooling out of your mouth. He pulls the finger from your mouth and places it back between your lips, pressing harder into your clit and moving faster, pushing your panties in between your lips until your bare lips are exposed and your panties are bunched up between them, completely hidden. Kei’s finger slips past the panties, dipping into your flood for just a moment before running his finger back down the strip of your panties, pushing at your hole. Your moans are fluttering as you try to sink onto his fingers. He holds on in place harshly. 

He starts counting down. You’re confused, so confused. You don’t know why he’s counting down or what will happen when you reach the end of it, but you’re hoping for the finger to enter you. “3… 2… 1…” You close your eyes in anticipation, but he pulls his hands away completely. 

“I- Kei- No, please, why?” you beg.

“I told you what to do and you were too busy and concerned with what you wanted. Now I’m not going to touch you,” he says so matter-of-factly. You wanted to laugh. You thought it was a joke. You needed it to be a joke, but now Kei is taking off his own buckle, which he does in 10 seconds, might you add. He’s taking off his own belt, throwing it gently to the side and undoing his zipper and button. 

“Kei,” you whine, “It’s… It’s not fair.” You’re pouting. You know he doesn’t find it cute and amusing when you see his facial expressions. “It’s just… You were making me feel so good.”

He scoffs, “Just from that? Tadashi must be treating you worse than I thought.” Your cheeks burn at the mention of your boyfriend’s name. You want to tell him to stop saying his name, but you know he won’t listen to you anyways. Instead, you just nod at him. He laughs.

“Please, Kei. I couldn’t focus,” you complain, trying to excuse yourself, but he’s not listening or he doesn’t care or maybe both. He pulls down his jeans, only the thin fabric of his boxers are covering his hard, long member. You swallow, hard, looking at how big he is. Tadashi isn’t necessarily small, but he’s definitely not big, and more so, he’s definitely not this big. Your eyes are glued to Kei’s boxers as he pulls them down, releasing his cock. A gasp escapes your lips, a sharp inhale into your lungs as you truly take in how big he is. He’s not just long, but he’s thick. You’re getting even wetter as you think about everything you want to do to him and what you want him to do to you. 

“Can you listen this time?” he asks, condescendingly, a disgusted look on his face. You nod excessively, so quickly that your vision blurs. You’re ready to do anything that he asks you to do. You just want to touch his cock. He smirks at how eager you are. “Take your panties off for me, baby. Nice and slow. Turn around when you do it.” He knows exactly what he wants. 

You start pulling your panties down, slowly, like he’s asked of you. You want to have them completely off, but you know you have to listen to Kei especially after last time. When the panties are to your knees, you’re facing completely away from him. “Bend over.” His words are so commanding and harsh. You do as he says, bending over to pull your panties all the way down to the floor. You can feel how exposed your pussy is from behind in between your legs, can feel the air highlighting every inch of wetness.

You hear Kei step closer to you as you stand their frozen, your panties around your ankles. You can feel his cock graze in between your legs just briefly before he controls it, ensure that no part of you is touched. He leans forwards, pressing his hips against your ass and brushing his cock between your lips for the smallest fraction of a second. “What does Tadashi call you while he’s fucking you?” The question stuns you, your knees buckling and your heart beginning to race. You know that you’re almost fucking his best friend, but you don’t need to be reminded of him every few minutes. Still, you know that Kei wants an answer and you want Kei to be good to you, so you answer. 

“H- He calls me sweetheart,” you stutter. Kei actually laughs, stepping back away from you and holding his stomach as he repeats it. 

“He calls you sweetheart when he’s fucking you?” he asks, trying to make sure he heard that right. 

“Yes.” You suddenly feel more embarrassed at this admission than you do at the position you’re in. He grips onto your hips and you want him to enter you so badly, but instead he turns you around to face him and gently pushes you onto the bed, lying flat on your back, your head propped up against a pillow. 

“Spread em,” he gestures towards your legs as he spits into his own hand, slicking his cock as you spread your legs open, exposing yourself to Kei. 

Kei is towering overtop of you, a knowing smirk on his face as he moves the fist he’s made around his cock, stroking slowly, squeezing his hand as he gets to the head and letting the pressure off as he returns back to the base. You know how desperate you look underneath him. You don’t need to see it in his glasses to know, but you do, and it makes you even wetter. Your legs are spread apart, the breeze from the fan making you painfully aware of how warm and flooded you are and how erect your nipples are. Your hands are beside each retrospective hip, gripping onto the sheets, waiting for him to enter you, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t even get closer. 

“Touch yourself,” Kei sneers. You don’t know what to do. You heard his words clearly, but your body isn’t making any move to do what he’s asked of you. You wanted Kei to touch you, you didn’t want to do it yourself. He takes a step towards you, his hand around his cock moving faster. “Let me see you play with yourself, sweetheart. Show me,” he coos, his tone changing to endearing in such a short amount of time. Hearing Kei call you what Tadashi calls you shakes your entire soul. You feel so conflicted but so hot. You want to hear it again. It sounds so much better coming out of his mouth. It makes you want to please him. You want to make him proud. 

You nod at him, timidly moving your hand down to clit and rubbing small, diffident circles into it. Your fingers don’t feel nearly as good as Kei’s did a few minutes ago. It doesn’t help that he’s watching you so intently either. It’s embarrassing to be completely open and on display like this, lying underneath someone who wasn’t your boyfriend, but, rather, your boyfriend’s best friend, your best friend. You have to shake the thought out of your mind before your body doesn’t allow you to get off. You close your eyes, trying to focus on the sensations of your fingertips brushing against your swollen clit. Your eyes are only shut for a few seconds before Kei is clearing his throat. 

“Eyes open. Look at me,” Kei clarifies. His hand hasn’t stopped moving as he’s scanning your body, evidently very happy with what he sees. Even with this gorgeous sight in front of you, it’s hard for you to lose yourself in the moment being stared at so eagerly. “Both hands.” He tilts his chin up at you, gesturing at your hand that’s still gripped onto the sheets. 

With your other hand, you cup your tit, rolling your hard nipple in between your fingers while maintaining your pace with the other hand. “Good girl,” he says under his breath. A moan escapes you. He raises his eyebrow, cockiness seething from his smile. “Yeah? Are you my good girl?”

You nod obnoxiously, a strangled noise coming out of your throat as you move your attention from your nipples to your wet hole, teasing yourself with your fingertip. You’re getting into it now. The situation is weighing on you but in the best way possible. You look up at Kei and your mind is still screaming that he’s not your boyfriend, but the louder the voice gets inside your head, the wetter your desperate pussy gets. He’s not your boyfriend, but he’s here, watching you tease yourself and torture your own clit as he jerks off above you, because your boyfriend can’t get you off like Kei can; no one can get you off like Kei can. He knows it too. Even when you would try to get off in the bathroom after having sex with Tadashi, it never felt this fucking good. 

“Do you want to be a really good girl?” he asks, his hand now gently rubbing on your inner thigh. 

You know that he’s just using those words, that phrase, to get exactly what he wants, but it only makes you want him more. You would do anything to be good for him. You want him to use you, to satisfy his every need with any part of you that he wants to. “Please, please, Kei. I’ll do anything.” Your own voice surprises you at how desperate it sounds. 

“Sit up.” His tone has switched back to the harsh, commanding asshole that he was before as he grabs onto your arm right as you’re about to insert your finger fully into yourself. You let out a defeated sigh before sitting up, looking at him innocently. “Stay still,” he demands. Kei walks over to you, getting closer and closer until the tip of his head is pressed up against your lips. You go to open your jaw to take him into your mouth, but he stops you, holding your head still. 

“What did I say?” he growls at you, grasping a fistful of your hair as punishment. “Repeat it.” 

“Stay still,” you repeat, your lips opening slightly around his head, allowing some of the precome to line the inside of your lips. You want so badly to lick your lips, but you know that Kei wants you to just sit there, so you don’t move. Your head is still as he swipes the spongy head across your lips, stroking the length as he does so, causing more precome to drip out of the slit and onto your lips. He pushes forwards, but you keep your mouth still, the tip only entering into your mouth when he nestles it in there. It touches your closed teeth and you shutter, trying to keep as still as you can.

Kei moans as he drags his sensitive head across the fronts of your teeth, your cheek bulging as he slides it into the side of your mouth. The combination of his grunts, his hands in your hair, and the thought of him using you for his pleasure all have your pussy aching to be touched. You want to touch yourself so bad, but you know that Kei will be angry. 

“Open,” he finally tells you. You let your jaw fall open as you look up into his eyes, fluttering your lashes at him, but he doesn’t look at you like you’re adorable or cute or pretty, he looks at you like he’s starving. “Tongue out.” You instantly stick your tongue out. “Good girl.” Your pussy throbs. That’s all you wanted to hear from him. You want to hear it again. 

“Lick the precome from my slit, sweetheart.” There’s that name again, shaking your being. Kei positions his cock at the tip of your tongue. You’re not expecting the name and the specific language has you blushing. You do as you’re told, focusing the tip of your tongue to lick the precome from his slit. The salty sensation on your tongue makes your mouth water for more. Kei drags his head down your tongue before taking a step back. He hasn’t told you to move your head or your tongue, so you don’t, despite everything in your body telling you to whine and pout at how far away his cock is from your mouth now. You’re so focused on where his cock is that you don’t notice that he’s bent over towards you or the glob of spit that falls onto your tongue until it’s already coated it. 

You barely have any time to react, only savoring the taste for a moment, before Kei stands back up and rests as much of his cock as he can on your tongue without actually entering your mouth. The slickness of his spit on your tongue and your warm breath from panting causing Kei’s cock to pulse. You can feel it. Kei looks down at you and lets more spit drop from his tongue. You’re not sure if he missed or if this is where he was aiming, but the spit lands right beside your mouth, dripping down your chin and onto your chest. 

He’s thrusting his hips slowly, gliding the underside of cock across your tongue. Your jaw is already starting to ache from staying open so wide, but you don’t dare relax. It’s like Kei can read your mind. “Wider,” he grunts, angling the tip of his cock down. You force your jaw to open uncomfortably, but the smirk that Kei gives you is worth any amount of discomfort that you feel.

Kei gives you no warning as he forces his entire length down your throat in one swift movement, groaning as he feels how tight your throat is around him. You try to gasp in surprise, your gag reflex triggering as his cock slides down your throat, but he’s blocking your airway. You take in air from your nose, but it’s not enough. Kei doesn’t budge in the slightest, just strokes your hair as he mutters “good girl” over and over again. You focus on his words and your breathing and the fact that you’re making him feel good right now. 

“Tongue out,” he demands, his hands grabbing your hair now instead of stroking it. Your nose is pressed up against his stomach and your tongue is sticking out as far as you can force it out of your mouth. You can feel it grazing his balls, every time you flick your tongue, his grip in your hair gets tighter and his groans get more guttural. 

Drool is leaking out of the side of your mouth as Kei’s cock pulses in your throat. Your head feels light and you’re pushing back into Kei’s hands, desperately trying to get air. You need to get a good breath or you’re going to pass out. He pulls you off of his cock. You’re coughing and inhaling deeply several times trying to recover. Kei gives you these few seconds of reconciliation before starting to get annoyed. 

“Open,” he nods down to the spot that you were in before. You assume the same position, chin tilted up, tongue so far out that it’s painful, jaw aching from forcing it open so wide, your lips swollen and sheened with spit and precome. “Good girl. Fuck, you’re such a good girl.” You love to hear the praise coming out of his mouth. It’s making you drip. 

You’re expecting his cock, but see his eyes close to yours and now you can’t breathe for another reason. He spits in your open mouth, but not on your tongue this time. The spit goes directly down your throat and you let it slide all the way down. His fingers are wrapped around your throat putting pressure directly on your airway, quickly getting so tight that you can’t breathe again. “But I decide when I’m done with your throat. I decide when you get to breathe again. I decide when I pull your pretty fucking mouth off of me. You don’t get to make those decisions. If I want to fuck your throat until you pass out and keep fucking your throat when you’re unconscious on the floor, I’ll do that.” You want to moan at these sentences, at the thoughts that are now flooding your head, but you can’t. No noise comes out of your throat at all, it can’t. Your hand comes up and wraps around Kei’s wrists, your eyes roll back into your head as his grip gets tighter. He’s waiting intently to see if you want to tap out, but when he doesn’t feel any pressure against his wrist, he tightens even harder, his fingers shaking. “Do you understand?” he commands. You nod as best as you can. When he pulls his fist away, you take in so much air that your head starts to pulse. Your breaths can’t be large enough. “Now open.”

You assume the same position. Your breathing finally slows when he rests his balls on your tongue. You’d never done anything this dirty with Tadashi. This was foreign territory for you. “Suck.” You can feel him above you, stroking his cock as you take one of his balls into your mouth. The entire situation feels so dirty , but you can hear Kei’s moans and grunts and you never want to stop. You continue sucking, focusing on the ball in your mouth and your tongue against it. 

“Take both in your mouth, you fucking whore,” Kei says, getting into this very quickly. The degradation makes your clit throb and pussy clench. You open your mouth wider, taking the other ball into your mouth. Your mouth has never been this full before. Your nose is pressed against the underside of his cock, but you can barely focus on that. “Stop,” he grunts. You release both balls from your mouth with a pop , your tongue still sticking straight out, waiting for whatever he wants to do with you next. 

“Good girl. Deep breath” You listen to him. He slides his cock into your mouth as soon as you’ve taken a good breath, grunting at every inch that slides down your throat. He holds it there again. You close your eyes, focusing on your breathing, and making sure that you make it through. Then you feel a sting on your cheek, startling you. Kei’s palm had made contact with your cheek. Your eyes snap open. “Eyes on me. Look up at me, sweetheart.” You moan around his cock and he inhales at the vibrations around his length. A single tear rolls down your cheek as the residual sting lingers. Your breathing is okay, manageable this time until Kei plugs your nose. 

“You better open your throat wider or I’ll have to fuck your unconscious body and you won’t be able to cum. It’ll be just like Tadashi, huh?” Your eyes open even more so at this sentence. Kei pulls his hips back, taking most of his length out of your throat before slamming back in. You missed your small window for air. You sit, patiently waiting for him to start moving again. You breathe as much as you can as soon as he pulls back. You’ve forced your jaw open even wider and have allowed your throat to open, allowing the smallest bit of air in. 

Kei’s thrusts into your throat get more and more frequent each time until he’s pistoning into your mouth. His hips are thrusting into you, abusing your poor throat, at such a fast speed. Every few thrusts, he buries his cock as deep in your throat as he can, holding it there until he feels you starting to fall, your eyes rolling back, and your jaw relaxing. 

“Gag on my cock,” he commands, continuing, “I want to feel you gag on my cock. It feels so good when I feel your abused throat constrict around my cock. I’m too big for you, aren’t I? You’re so used to small cocks, aren’t you, sweetheart? You can barely handle how fucking big I am.” It’s true. It’s all true. 

He hits the back of your throat, your body convulsing slightly as you gag. You can feel the muscles in your throat tighten around his cock. He loves the feeling so much that he does it again. And then again. Your stomach is twisting as he hits it for the 4th time. He glides his cock down your throat. The noises that he’s making are magical. 

“Swallow.” You swallow whatever liquids you can. “Yes, fuck,” he groans, “again.” You swallow again, significantly less fluid in your mouth. “Again.” You swallow again. “God, your throat feels so good, I might not even need to fuck you.” You can’t help but to whimper, swallowing again around his cock. “Fuck, I could just cum down your throat right now and leave you on the bed for when Tadashi comes home. Maybe he can help you.”

You want to shake your head no. You want to beg for him to stay, to touch you, just to tell you to cum. If he just told you to cum right now, you think you could. You’d do anything for him right now, but you can’t. You can’t do anything except let him use your throat for whatever he wants to use it for. He laughs at the panic in your eyes as he pulls out of your throat, stroking his cock above you. “Or maybe I won’t even use you to cum, huh? Maybe I’ll just make you watch as I blow my load onto your pretty face. Tadashi would love coming home to that, wouldn’t he?” 

You don’t know how to answer that, so you don’t. Kei doesn’t like that. You feel a sting across your cheek, harder this time. “I asked you a question.”

“I- N- No. No, he wouldn’t like that,” you answer truthfully, even though you don’t think it’s the answer that Kei wanted. It’s exactly the answer Kei wanted.

“But would you like it?” he smirks, waiting for your answer. He hasn’t stopped stroking his cock, moaning as he swipes his thumb over the head. “Don’t lie to me…,” he pauses, “sweetheart.” His smile is pure evil.

You nod timidly before verbalizing it. “Yes. I would like that a lot, Kei.” 

He laughs again, shaking his head. “Tch. Pathetic.” Your entire body feels warm and embarrassed. He leans over you, getting so close to your ear that his low whisper sounds like a scream. “It sucks that I want to ruin you, then, huh?” A shiver disperses through your entire body as you shake your head no. No, it definitely doesn’t suck that he wants to ruin you. 

“I want you, now.” Kei finally decides. He pushes you back on the bed again. “On your side.” You’re conscious of how little you know about sex positions, particularly ones where you lay on your side. He pulls you to the edge of the bed, laying almost completely on your right side, save for the small parts of your back that are touching the bed. He positions himself between your legs, lining himself up with your throbbing pussy. It hasn’t been touched since you didn’t listen to Kei. You know your hole is tight, but so lubricated that it’ll swallow him just as easily as your throat did. He takes your leg and rests it on his shoulder. 

He rubs his head in between your lips, pressing up against the hole. “Please.” It slips out of your mouth, but you’re not going to apologize for it. Kei rubs his thumb against your clit, using your own wetness to lubricate your swollen nub, his finger moving effortlessly against it. You can’t stop whimpering. 

He doesn’t stop to ask if you’re ready, or prep your hole with fingers, he just starts sliding into you. He’s not even halfway inside of you when you decide that you’ll never be this full again. It takes your breath away. You can’t breathe, but you’re trying. You’re gasping for air as he inserts his entire length into you. “Kei, Kei, Kei, fuck, Kei.”

“I haven’t even started fucking you, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss into your leg next to his face as he slides completely into you, not stopping until his hips are pressed up against you. You’re waiting for him to let you adjust to how thick he is inside of you, but he doesn’t. He starts moving almost instantly, rocking his hips backwards and then thrusting into you completely. You’ve never had anything so deep inside of you before, not even your own fingers or a dildo. 

Kei picks up the speed, rocking his hips into you repetitively, in such a rhythmic pattern that you’re already almost there. You know, and he does too, that all he has to do is angle just a bit down and he would be obliterating your g-spot. Even without it, you can feel your arousal heightening so high. His thumb is still rubbing circles into your clit. “Kei- Kei, I think, I-,” you breathe, stuttering over your words, so filled with cock and pleasure that your head is foggy. 

“Already? You’re already going to cum? God, you really are starved of some good cock, aren’t you?” he teases, picking up speed even more. “I’m not even hitting your g-spot. I’m not ready yet. You’re going to cum without me even trying?”

You know you should feel embarrassed, but you’re not. You have no shame in letting yourself go. “Fuck, Kei, I’m coming, fuck.”

Your eyes squeeze shut. Your head presses back so far into the bed that you know how messy your hair is going to be. Your toes curls and your knuckles are white against the sheets. The entire time, no noise comes out of you, despite your mouth being completely agape. The pleasure is obliterating you. You can’t think of anything at all except for the pleasure. How good everything feels. Kei hasn’t stopped fucking you. He’s slamming into you as you ride your orgasm to completion. As soon as you’ve stopped cumming, you want to cum again. You need him to make it happen again. 

“I’m not stopping until I’m finished. If that means that you’ve cum so many times that your orgasms hurt by the last one, then so be it,” he thrusts into you again and again. His hand has moved from your clit and is instead wrapped around your leg, using it as leverage to fuck into you even harder. Every time you think he can’t fuck you harder, he proves you wrong. He’s almost growling at this point, fucking you so deep and hard that you exhale every time he pounds into you. 

“You’ll never cum from anyone else again,” he slams into you, “Every other guy that you ever take will never compare to me, will never be as good as me. Their cocks won’t fit inside you like mine does. They won’t fill you up as much as I can. I’m ruining you. I don’t even think you’ll be able to make yourself cum after this. Every time you want to feel pleasure, real pleasure, you’ll have to call and beg for it. When you’re in bed with Tadashi, so late at night, and he’s sleeping next to you, you’re going to have to call me and beg to meet up with me so that I can get you off.” His words are just making you get closer again. You know that he’s just talking dirty to you, but you know how much truth weighs in those words. He’s right. 

“You know that, don’t you?” he asks, breathless from how relentlessly he’s fucking into you. 

You nod at the sentence, still thinking repetitively over the words he said to you and how true each of them is. Kei reaches down to start rubbing your clit again. He can see you’re close. He can feel that you’re close. Your pussy is gripping his cock, the rigid, wet walls milking him as you have your second orgasm.

“Yes, yes, Kei, fuck. I’ll never feel this full ever again. Please, please, will you fill me after this time? Please, I can’t imagine never fucking you again. Please,” you moan through your orgasm. You want confirmation of something to look forward to. You need him again. 

He laughs at how unapologetic you are at begging for him again before he’s even finished with you. He doesn’t answer but instead asks a question. “Tadashi fucks you doggy style, sometimes, doesn’t he?” He fucks you through the end of your orgasm. 

You nod, hesitantly, still blown away by cumming twice already. “Sometimes,” you reply. Kei snickers. 

“On all fours,” he directs you. “I was serious when I said I wanted to ruin you, baby.”

You assume the position on all fours, a position that Tadashi will sometimes have you take him in. You’ve never understood the hype around this position, but you’re hoping Kei teaches you. A sting spreads from your ass as Kei spanks you. You’re already feeling the hype. You whimper. 

“Again?” he asks, smirking. You nod, wanting to feel the pain but knowing that he’s going to do it regardless. He spanks you again, harder this time. He doesn’t ask if you want it again, just spanks you for a third time, even harder. You won’t be able to sit tomorrow if he continues on. You kind of want him to continue on. You’re not met with another sting, but Kei’s cock thrust completely inside of you until his hips are pressed against your ass in one motion. You choke on your own breath, coughing in surprise. 

He brings his hands up and snakes one into your hair, grabbing a fistful, and the other on your shoulder, using it to pull you back onto him. You hear your skin slap against his, hard. You can feel the sting on your ass from where Kei spanked you as it smashes against his thigh. He’s so deep inside you, you think you can feel him in your stomach. 

Kei’s chest goes flush against your back. He whispers into your ear, “The next time he’s fucking you, you’re going to say my name.” It’s almost hypnotic, how low and intriguing his voice is. “You won’t be able to get me out of your mind,” he tells you, each thrust into you punctuating his words. He straightens back up, gripping your hips as he fucks into you. His fingertips are going to leave bruises. “Do you know why?”

You shake your head no. You want him to tell you why. You want him to say anything to you, anything at all. 

“Because you’re my bitch,” he says so seriously, moving quicker as your wetness grew, slicking him even more at the sentence, “and Tadashi has never hit this…” Kei thrusts, angled into your g-spot. The sensation makes it feel like lava has erupted in your stomach. “and it’s all you’re going to think about when you’re in this position.” He knows exactly where it is and he won’t stop smashing the head of his cock into it repetitively. “How this is what it could’ve felt like, but he’ll never make you feel like this. So you’ll be thinking of me the entire time and you’re going to say my fucking name.”

It’s too much. Everything about this situation is too much. You’re speechless. You’re aware of every part of your body that Kei has gripped onto or smacked. Your eyes roll back into your head. You don’t even know what’s happening, only that Kei’s cock feels so good against your walls and slamming into your g-spot. You feel a warm sensation run down your legs slowly at first, but then explode onto the sheets beneath you and Kei’s cock and his lap as you scream for him. “Kei! Fuck! Yes, Kei. I won’t ever think of anyone else. Only you. Only you, Kei, fuck. Oh fuck.”

“Fuck, you just squirted all over my fucking cock, fuck.” For the first time tonight, Kei sounds like he can barely speak. He can’t think of a witty retort about how good he made you feel, he can only keep repeating those words. “Fuck, you squirted so fucking much all over me, baby. Fuck, good girl. Fuck.” He pulls himself out of you. If it weren’t for the mind-blowing orgasm you just had that you need a minute to recover from, you would’ve whined endlessly until he was back inside of you. Kei looks so focused right now and you’re realizing that his hand is on his cock, wrapped around right where his head meets his shaft, squeezing, not stroking. His chest is heaving and he’s swallowing excessively. He had to stop himself from cumming too early. (Define too early?) He’s made you cum 3 times already, feeling your pussy tighten around him as he didn’t even stutter, and has fucked you for over an hour, not even mentioning the abuse your throat went through.

You think he’s waiting for the sensation to pass before entering back inside you, but he drops to his knees, pulling your hips towards him. “You’ve earned this, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your skin. You feel his nose press up against your ass, his tongue sticking out and licking from your clit to your hole. He doesn’t use the tip like Tadashi does, he uses the flat side of his tongue, exploiting every part of the surface of his tongue. Your arms shake as he sticks his tongue into your hole, fucking it, moving his face back and forth. “Fuck, Kei.” 

He moves back down to your clit, flicking it with the tip this time, fast, before sucking it into his mouth and running his tongue over it again and again as he suctions onto it. “Holy fuck. Oh my God.” Your face is down in the bed, your arms refusing to support you anymore. The sounds that are coming from behind you are almost enough to make you cum on their own. Kei is slurping all of the juices that he’s created since he first started touching you.  You can’t see him, but the sounds are incredible. You can’t see him. 

“Kei, Kei, can I lay on my back? Can I see your face? I want to see your face.” You know you’re not in any position to ask him for anything, but you hope he listens to you. You want to watch him eat you out so badly. He hums into your pussy, nodding as he flips you over, spreading your legs even further. He looks up at you, his mouth completely clamped over your entire pussy, his tongue working particularly hard, creating an insane amount of pressure on your clit, swirling around it, in between your lips and slit, fucking into your hole as deep as he can. His eyes never leave yours. You try to keep up with him, but it’s too fucking much. Your head falls backward, staring up at the ceiling. Kei’s arms reach up, grabbing onto your tits, rolling both of your nipples between his long fingers.

“Look at me,” he mumbles into your pussy quickly before continuing his expertise. You listen to him. It’s the least you can do. You look at him, your eyes watering at the pleasure that he’s creating for you. It sounds so messy, so sloppy, so fucking good . 

“Don’t- Don’t stop. ‘M gonna-,” you moan so loudly that it scares you as Kei works even harder, sucking your clit into his mouth and nibbling it softly before using his entire mouth, his lips, his nose, his chin to rub against your pussy, spitting on it repeatedly to slick it up. “Fuck!” you’re screaming now and you can’t help the sensation release from you again, the clear liquid spraying from between your legs onto Kei’s face. You can’t even feel apologetic, but you don’t think he wants you to. He doesn’t stop rubbing your clit through your orgasm, you clench your thighs together, completely overstimulated, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps rubbing your clit through the pain and into another wave of pleasure that quickly crashes into another orgasm. You’ve never come that quickly together before. There’s no squirt this time, only insane pleasure washing over you as you pant and scream Kei’s name. 

You’re out of breath. You can barely move. You’re so tired from all of the times that you’ve come, but you know how hard Kei is and you know how badly you want his fucking cum. 

“I want to be all the way inside of you,” Kei states. You’re confused and he can see the confusion on your face as he cleans his glasses with the blankets on the bed. 

“How? I mean, like, weren’t you… already all the way inside me?” you ask him, innocently.

“Deeper,” he says, laying down on the bed next to you and flipping you on top of him so your soaked pussy lips are wrapped around his length. He grunts at the feeling. You lift off of him as much as you can muster with how weak you’re feeling right now. He helps you, grabbing onto your ass and lifting gently until you’re up high enough for him to line himself up with your hole. 

“Sit,” he commands. You listen to him for the millionth time tonight, lowering yourself onto his cock. His cock hasn’t grown since he fucked you doggy style, but it feels so much bigger. It’s so much deeper inside of you as you’re seated on his cock. Your walls grip him on the way down.

“Fuck, you’re tight. How does Tadashi last so long in you?” he asks, genuinely wanting to know. 

You laugh for the first time all night, “He doesn’t.”

He holds onto your hips, looking up at you and how breathtaking you are. Your tits are out, moving with every breath that you take. It makes Kei’s cock twitch inside of you. “Bounce on my cock, baby.” He’s asking so much of you with the state that you’re in right now, but he knows you’ll listen to him. “Be a good girl. Bounce on my cock. I’ve done all the work tonight, sweetheart.” That’s all it takes. You get a sudden surge of energy as you nod, using your knees in the bed as springs to slide up and down his cock. 

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. His fingernails dig into you again, bruising the already bruised skin. How are you going to explain all of these marks to Tadashi? You don’t even care at this point. You want Kei to keep making more. He’s guiding you up and down, though you’re doing most of the work. “Faster, baby, fuck.”

You listen. You bounce up and down on his cock faster, getting higher before slamming down against his lip. Your tits are bouncing just as wildly. He moves his hands from his hips to your tits, grabbing onto them and massaging them as you milk his cock. You purposefully tighten around him on the way up and relax on the way down. Your tight pussy desperately gripping at each inch of his length, coaxing the cum out of his cock. “God, fuck. Milk my cock, baby, yes.” Kei’s lines are becoming less demanding and more appreciative. They’re still commanding, but less harsh. He moves his hands back to your waist, lifting you almost completely off his cock, your head only tightly squeezing his head. 

“Ready?” he asks. The bliss on his face is still there, but there’s so much devilish intent now too. You don’t have time to ask questions or to even tell him yes as he fucks up into you. His hips are moving so quickly up that even though your body isn’t moving, the ripples of energy are tearing through you, shaking them violently. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, Kei.” You’re already there. You’re already ready to cum just from penetration alone. 

“Not yet.” This is the hardest demand yet for you to listen to. “You can only cum when you feel my load fill you up.” You swallow hard, but nod frantically. 

He’s grunting so loudly as he claps into your pussy from underneath you. He’s getting so deep inside of you with every thrust. You’re speechless. You’re so on the edge the entire time that he’s fucking you like this that you can’t focus on anything else. He pulls you down completely on his cock and stops thrusting for a second. He’s breathing heavy as he snakes his arm around your waist, pulling you onto his chest, his cock still just as deep inside of you, but this time when he fucks into you, he hits you g-spot on the first thrust. “Kei, Kei, Kei,” you can’t stop saying his name, “I can’t- I can’t hold it.” You barely even notice the tears running down your cheeks as the pleasure is so built up inside of you. 

“Fuck, baby, fuck, almost.” His thrusts are getting sloppy, his cock is pulsating, you feel so fucking good wrapped so tightly around his cock, but he needs to feel you cum. He needs to feel your pussy tense up as he drills into you, knowing that he’s the reason you look so pretty, your face contorting from pure pleasure. He wants to feel you milk him, coaxing his big fucking load out of his balls and deep inside you. He can make you cum. He doesn’t have to ask you. He can just make you cum, even despite you trying to be such a good girl and listen for him. 

He holds your hips steady, slowing down for a few seconds, catching his own breath, letting himself relax. You’re both grateful and so sad about this. You’re grateful because you would have cum just then, but you’re sad because you wanted to cum so bad it hurt. He stills for a second and then he’s fucking into you again, but differently this time. His arms are shaking from holding you down against him so tightly, not letting you move, despite your numerous attempts to squirm, as he thrusts up into your tight, aching pussy mercilessly. You’re sobbing into his shoulder.

“I- I- I can’t hold it, Kei, please.” You’re trying to be so good for him. It’s making his balls tighten, but he doesn’t want to come yet. He can’t come until you milk it out of him. Do it. Cum, he thinks as he picks up speed, like sprinting the last half mile of a marathon. It’s as much as he can give and he wants it to be enough to push you over the edge without having to ask. You’ll feel so much better tightening around him while you apologize to him for not listening. 

“I’m going to cum, Kei, please, please, please, I’m sorry, fuck. I can’t hold it any longer,” the string of words come out so fast that they practically overlap each other. You cum around his cock, your pussy throbbing, gripping so tightly onto his cock as he keeps up the intensity of his thrusts. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you scream out. You start repeating his name over and over again, unable to think of anything else in the world. 

With your pussy clamping so hard down on his cock, it’s exactly what he needs. He feels his balls tighten, his cock throbbing inside of you as his hips start to stutter messily. “Fuck, sweetheart, fuck, you’re making me cum, fuck,” he grunts, snapping his hips into you as hard as he can as he unloads inside of you, strings of cum filling up your insides, squeezing out of your pussy as he tries to fuck them deeper into you, but has already overfilled your abused pussy. He’s still cumming, feeling it leak out of his cock, when he pulls his cock from your pussy, letting it land on your ass and back down on his own cock. He slides his cock back into your pussy, going as deep as he can as before exhaling a final breath. 

You’re both quiet for a second, not talking about anything that just happened, just breathing. You’re still pressed up against his chest, cum dripping out of your pussy and onto Kei. You know that you should both clean up, but you’ve never been this tired in your life. You can’t even roll off of him and you don’t think he could push you off. 

“When will Tadashi be home?” he asks, panting, trying to regain himself. 

“He doesn’t get back until tomorrow morning,” you hum happily, listening to his accelerated heartbeat. You don’t move, but he doesn’t ask you to move. Your breathing is more irregular than his is as you close your eyes. “Can we nap? I need to nap. That took so much out of me.”

Kei’s quiet for a moment. There’s no laugh or retort, he just nods, wrapping his arms around your waist and stroking your hair. He grabs the cleanest blanket that he can from where he’s pinned to the bed, draping it over top of both of you. You hum at the warmth. He knows that this is a part of the whole degradation thing, the comforting at the end. That’s why he’s doing it.

“Goodnight, Kei,” you smile up at him lazily, kissing his chest before laying it back down. “Oh, wait, Kei,” you look back up at him. 

“Hm?”

That’s why he’s doing it. 

“Thank you,” you smile at him, blinking slowly. You’re so tired that you don’t even notice his heart skip a beat as you thank him. 

Right?

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima smut #hq smut #haikyuu smut #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima x female reader #toriwritesshit

[its-time-to-write]

mine of you with me

Been busy this week bc my ex is getting married and I have to go to the wedding. His fiancée (wife?) asked me to be there and I love her, so I said yes, but I regret it big time. Requests are still open! I’m working on the requests in my inbox, but wrote this to get it out of my system. It goes with/happens before “three times ‘cause I’ve waited my whole life.” Anyway. Here ya go. mine of you with me

You love going to Jamie’s games. You love watching him play his heart out on the pitch. It’s fun, being in the stands and screaming for Richmond. You wear his jersey (his actual jersey, one that he owns) and deck yourself out in Richmond gear. You think your favorite part, however, is sneaking around.

You’re dating Jamie Tartt, star footballer, and no one knows.  

Today is a game against Crystal Palace. Jamie had left before you with a single “Bye babe,” and a kiss. 

After he leaves, you debate stealing one of his orange kits (they’re the most comfortable) but decide against it. Too obvious to be in a sea of red and blue. You settle for a regular “Bantr” shirt and head out the door to meet Keeley. 

Keeley and Rebecca were aware that you were with Jamie. Keeley, because Jamie swore you’d be best friends. Rebecca, because there was a ticket mixup and Keeley was busy so she sent Rebecca to the ticket booth to sort things out with “Jamie’s special guest,” which led Rebecca to be very surprised when she saw you instead of one of his family members. 

It made things easier, really, to show up on Nelson Road under the guise of seeing Rebecca and/or Keeley. Time passed and it became less of a guise. You really enjoyed their company, and having someone to talk to about Jamie. 

But here you are, back in the present, with Rebecca trying to convince you to sit in the box while Keeley threads blue, red, and gold through your hair. 

You just laugh and hug them goodbye, heading your separate ways. Them, up; you, down. 

You settle into your seat right up to the pitch, and wait for the game to begin. Jamie’s picked a seat that’s right where the teams line up, so you’ll get a good view of him before it starts. 

Shortly after, the teams begin to walk out onto the pitch. You look for Jamie and catch his eye. 

I like your hair, he mouths, pointing slightly to his own. 

Thanks, you reply with a small grin. 

Jamie gives you a look that says I’m going to be pulling it later so you return with one that means I was counting on it.

Is it bad that you two understand each others expressions that well?

No time to dwell on that, because the game’s beginning. 

—

Richmond’s done alright, they haven’t lost necessarily, but they did tie. You can feel the tension through the building as you weave your way through players and staff, carrying a stack of papers from Higgins to Rebecca. You’re almost to the stairs leading up to her office when someone crashes into you, sending papers flying. 

“I’m so sorry!” you say, “that is totally my fault, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“No it isn’t,” a voice replies indignantly. “He was walking backwards!”

Jamie mumbles, “Shut up, Isaac,” while bending down to help you shuffle your papers together. 

“Sorry about that,” he says softly. “Weren’t looking where I was goin’. I’m Jamie, by the way.”

He holds out his hand and you shake it, mentally commending his presence-of-mind to act like a stranger. “Nice to meet you, Jamie,” you reply. “I’m a friend of Rebecca’s.”

“He knows,” Colin pipes up, followed by an “Oi,” because Isaac smacked him. 

“I’ve uh, got to go,” you say. “See you around.”

“See ya,” the lads chorus, Jamie watching you and Colin and Isaac watching Jamie. 

Jamie turns around to see them grinning at him. 

“Oi, what,” he says, hands in the air. 

Isaac states, “You like her.”

Colin interjects, “Don’t even try to deny it, boyo, we saw how you looked at her. You think she’s fit.”

Jamie is sure he played it cooler than that. Maybe they just know him too well. 

He laughs it off all the way to the locker room, changes, showers, and waits for Dani to walk out the door. They leave in a group, him, Isaac, Dani, and Colin, and as they turn the corner past the boot room you appear with Rebecca.

“Ladies,” Dani grins. Dani has a bit of a crush on you. 

You and Rebecca smile back. 

“Oi,” says Isaac, “do you want to join us tonight at the club? Trying to forget our tie streak.”

You open your mouth to decline when Rebecca replies, “We’d love to. I’m assuming Keeley will be there as well?”

“Becca,” you hiss, “I can’t go the club tonight.”

“Whyever not?”

You blush slightly. “I was planning on spending the evening with my boyfriend.”

The boys share furtive looks amongst themselves and not-so-subtly poke Jamie.

Rebecca says, “I’m sure he’d be more than happy to join you at the club. It’s settled, we’ll be there,” with a smile to the lads. 

It takes every ounce of your willpower not to look at Jamie and to walk away with dignity. 

“Did you hear that, Jamie?” Isaac asks, “She’s got a boyfriend. Sorry, mate.”

Jamie shrugs and does his best to look disappointed. “Must be a lucky man,” he says. “Now can we please go? My hair’s a fuckin wreck.”

“Mine too,” Dani says with a sorrowful shake of his head. They boys laugh and head out the door. 

—

You’re at the club, standing at the bar with Rebecca. Jamie is there too, with the Richmond boys. Trent and Beard are there too, but Ted has opted to stay home. He’s not big into the club scene. Jamie’s sitting and laughing with the boys, but his eyes keep flicking over to you. Isaac notices and thumps him on the chest. 

“Oi. She’s got a boyfriend, remember?”

Jamie nods and tears his eyes away from you. 

“Dani, mate, you need a drink?” Jamie doesn’t even wait for a response before he’s out of his seat and headed over to the bar. Headed over to you. 

Colin rolls his eyes, Isaac shakes his head, and Dani shrugs. “I cannot say no to a free drink,” he says. 

Meanwhile, Jamie leans against the bar, holds up two fingers, then turns to you while waiting for his drinks. “Boyfriend didn’t show up?”

You grin and look around the room. “He’s here somewhere. We came separately. Not really sure where he’s gone off to.”

Jamie smiles back. “Not much of a boyfriend if he leaves someone as fuckin’ pretty as you at the bar all by herself.”

You shrug. “I’m with Rebecca. And he’s ok, I guess. When I find him, I’m going to tell him I’m leaving in fifteen minutes, and ask if he wants to meet at his place or mine.”

Jamie’s eyes become hungry. “His place. Definitely his. In fact, I think I just saw him slip out the door. D’you mind taking Dani his drink? You can have mine.”

You nod, unable to speak. Just a glint in his eye, and he’s become almost feral. You swear his teeth are pointier and your mouth goes dry.

Nice hair. I’m going to be pulling it later.

He’s gone before you can say anything else, and you have to press your hands to your face to cool down your cheeks.

Rebecca has been graciously pretending as though she can’t hear while scrolling on her phone. She looks up only when you grab Jamie’s drink, down it in a single gulp, and then pick up Dani’s.

She raises an eyebrow. “I take it I’m on my own for the rest of the night?”

You shake your head. “Isn’t Keeley here?”

There’s a ghost of a smile on Rebecca’s face. “Pretty sure she’s trying to take Roy home, so she is here in body but not so much in mind.”

You make what you hope is a neutral face. “Bec, you could get a man.”

She laughs. “Let’s get Dani his drink, shall we? I believe you’re leaving in twelve minutes.”

You set Dani’s drink down in front of him as Isaac asks, “Where’s your boyfriend? I thought he was supposed to be here.” 

You shrug for the second time that night. “He had to go. I think I’ll be leaving soon too.”

There’s a chorus of wolf-whistles and you blush, again.

“Where did Jamie go?” Sam asks. “Did you break his heart that badly when he was flirting with you?”

You shake your head. You can feel Rebecca, poised as ever, next to you. It’s taking all your composure to maintain a straight face. 

“I don’t- I’m not sure. He said something about training and sleep and I think he had to go? And I didn’t break his heart. He’s not into me.”

“Oh please,” Jan Maas speaks up, “His eyes follow you whenever you come to see Ms. Welton.”

You’re positive your face has caught on fire. “He just- he must- I don’t know. I have a boyfriend… He’s really great, and- I mean- I’ll talk to Jamie.”

“I did not mean to make you uncomfortable,” Jan Maas shrugs. “It is just the facts.”

Sam puts his hand on your shoulder. “It is alright. We will take care of it. Jamie is the type of person who falls hard and fast, and sometimes he does not care if the other person is unavailable. He sees what he wants and just goes for it. It’s why he is such a good footballer.”

You smile. “Thanks, Sam. I should probably go.” You turn to Isaac and Colin. “Thanks for inviting me. I really did have a great time. And maybe next time you can actually meet my boyfriend.”

They wave, you poke Rebecca and glance at Sam, then head out, pretending you don’t see her panicked absolutely not face.

—

You text Jamie, I’m on my way, and he taps back with a heart.

Door’s unlocked he replies, and then you’re off.

He doesn’t live very far, so you’re at his house in no time at all. You can see a few dim lights on inside, so you walk up the steps and push the door open.

“Jamie?” you call, “I’m here!”

You hear his footsteps clamoring down the stairs and in a moment he’s on you, fingers threaded through your hair as you kiss. He’s pulling you close, impossibly close, then without warning he picks you up, bridal style. He’s still in his clothes from the club.

He kisses you all the way up the stairs, then places you on the edge of the bed.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he says, voice pitched low. “I fucking loved your hair.”

You shiver as he lifts your dress over your head and runs his knuckles along your sides. You note that the room is bathed in dim light, from candles Jamie has lit and placed around. There’s soft music playing somewhere and you’re honestly surprised he pulled this together in fifteen minutes. You look at him on his knees in front of you, one hand on your waist and the other on your thigh. You fumble with the buttons on his shirt then settle for lifting it over his head. 

“God,” you say, “you’re beautiful.”

He smiles, eyes hungry again. He gently pushes you back down on the bed and climbs on top of you. “Pretty sure that’s my line, babe.”

—

You don’t really talk until you’re both laying under the sheets, hours later, arms wrapped around waists and shoulders and legs intertwined.

Jamie’s kissing a trail from your shoulder to your inner elbow when you whisper, “Babe.”

He hums softly. “Yeah?”

“Do you think- do you think you should tell the team about us?”

Jamie pulls back slightly so he can look into your eyes. “Where’s this coming from?”

You shrug as best you can between his arms. “I just think it would make things easier, you know? I mean, I still think sneaking around is sexy and all, but like- it’s just getting harder and harder around Nelson Road.”

Jamie kisses the tip of your nose. “Whatever you fucking want babe. I’d give you the keys to me house if you asked.”

You smile, then let yourself drift to sleep.

—

The next morning, Jamie makes his way to his locker and tapes up a new photo. He’s holding a girl in front of Big Ben, and they’re both laughing. It’s his favorite photo. Sam sneaks a look and then does a double take.

“Jamie,” he says, disbelief written on his face, “Is that Rebecca’s friend? When did you take that?”

There’s a clamor while the team crowds around Jamie’s locker, Jamie grinning smugly.

“She’s me girlfriend. Been dating for months now. Didn’t want her to be harassed by press and you lot, so we kept it a secret.”

“I fucking knew you liked her!” Isaac says. “Body language doesn’t fucking lie.”

Jamie shrugs. “Never said I didn’t.”

“What about her boyfriend?” Dani interjects. “Does he know?”

Jamie turns to look at him, trying to gauge if he’s serious or not. “Muchacho, I’m the boyfriend.”

“Ohhh,” Dani replies, “that makes much more sense!”

“Oi, you lot!” Roy shouts. “You can discuss Tartt’s love life after fucking training. Get on the fucking pitch!”

There’s a chorus of “Yes coach, sorry coach!”

Jamie takes one last look at your picture, grins, then follows the rest of the team out the door.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

[lightlycareless]

hiii i rly love how you portray naoya and i really like how you got naoya's character on point like...... HOW

but like im imagining this headcanon wherein y/n and naoya are lovers and naoya brought up the topic of having an "open relationship" and naoya ends up getting no bitches/loses them in the process and y/n ends up getting approached by men who naoya respects a lot or someone he really looks up to and naoya becomes jealous and very insecure even though he was the one who wanted to open the relationship (reminds me of what you wrote about naoya's jealousy towards nanami)

Hello anon!

Awww, thank you so much ❤️❤️ I spent a lot of time thinking how to make Naoya as realistically possible, how to redeem him and such, which was difficult, but satisfying at the same time.

Yet, something a-hole behaviors of him would remain, lol it has to, or it wouldn't be him, you know???

And the open relationship thing is soooo in character for him. Ugh that man, seriously... As much as I want to deny it, I feel like he would bring it up (but in a universe he isn't like completely devoted to you, like he has yet to realize just how much you mean to him—all paths point to the same destination, it's just... how he gets there that matters lol)

Anyways, here are the warnings of this oneshot 😏: y/n has a harem essentially. gojo, suguru, nanami, and an extra one I've been dying to write. :)))) mentions of infidelity, naoya is a bastard. and a sprinkle of smut. fluff, and angst.

Without any further a do, happy reading!!

When the idea of an open relationship is suggested… the first of many fractures unwittingly struck your relationship.

First by shattering the image you had of him.

Sure, your feelings for Naoya remained, which is what made this ordeal far more painful…

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t harbor other emotions, such as anger.

“—just before we finally settle.” Is the lousy excuse he gives you when confronted, another stab to your heart. “Get it out of the system, you know?”

No. You don’t know, because for the past few years, Naoya is the only man you’ve had eyes for, to the point of imagining a future with him—and solely him.

It hurts to even consider he hasn’t been doing the same, probably already interested in some other woman, the reason behind his suggestion in the first place.

“I don’t want to…” you murmur, doing your best to not leave the table, or at least not shed a tear.

“It’ll only be a short time.” Naoya insists. “This way, we can know if we’re truly meant for each other. See if we don’t feel the same with others, hm?”

It’s stupid.

It really is—

Naoya’s suggestion… and your devotion to make him happy.

Because even after all the dumb things he said to justify the unjustifiable, you still wanted to please him.

“I guess we could go through restrictions or something, not that I have an—”

“No sex.” The rapid way in which you reply is something Naoya can’t help but find adorable, interpreting your eagerness as jealousy, overprotectiveness… before brushing it off as silly.

“Y/N—my love, you’re not seriously thinking we can reach a conclusion without that now, can we?”

Truth to be told, you didn’t want to find out. Not through this way at least, by laying in the arms of another…

Thus, could he really blame you for trying to fight it?

“Besides, don’t you want to try it out too?” Naoya smirks. “I’m fine with it, really. It’s a two-way street, after all. What’s good in me having all the fun?”

What hurts more?

That fact that Naoya wanted to pursue other women with your permission?

Or that he was pushing you onto other men, appearing careless to whatever you did or didn’t do with them?

It’s not that Naoya doesn’t care—far from that, really. He doesn’t like when men do as little as glance in your direction.

But he doesn’t worry because he knows there’s nothing to worry about.

Trusting that his hopelessly-in-love girlfriend would never betray him like that. Aware that your attention and devotion has been on him the moment you took him into your heart—and that no matter what, you’ll always come back to him.

It’s why he suggested the idea in the first place, because he’s long acknowledged that even past your limits, you still tolerate him.

Thus, unsurprised that you agreed to this change—Naoya leaving the apartment soon after that.

Looks like you were right in assuming he already had someone in mind to debut this new arrangement; willing to bet anything to prove he’s already on his way to her.

…Well, you hope that Naoya at least respects the only condition both agreed on: to not bring any partners to the apartment.

Not that you’d be there to see much of it anyways, opting to stay in your friend’s—Shoko— apartment for the time being.

“Can’t say I didn’t think him capable of doing something like that—but I guess I never thought he’d actually do it, not after dating you as long as he did.” She’d say, before taking a deep huff of her cigarette and exhaling.

You always found it endearing how she’d release the smoke to the side, as if it didn’t permeate the air around you… but at least Shoko cares enough to try. Not sure if you think the same of Naoya anymore…

“So much for having faith on him…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you say, offended yet intrigued by her implications.

“I mean, you knew of the rumors before dating him, Y/N.” Shoko adds, you sigh. That, you did. “I don’t want to say I told you so, but…”

“I guess I was hoping they weren’t real, either.” You slowly admit. “…What am I going to do, Shoko?”

A breakup isn’t exactly what you had in mind, certainly not what you wanted to do….

But why do that now when you could take advantage of this exploitable opportunity? An opening all too obvious to Shoko, which she doesn’t hesitate to let you know.

“Give him a taste of his own medicine.” She suddenly suggests. “He told you, didn’t he? That you were good to be with other men.”

“But I don’t want to.” You shake your head. “I don’t—I don’t think I can.”

“It’s exactly the same, just another face if that’s what you’re wondering.” Shoko explains, but to you, it was much deeper than that, always has been, for an emotional personal like you.

It’s why she was so angry that your beloved boyfriend was quick to disregard your feelings.

“Ok, sure, let’s say I agree.” You play along. “How do I even start? It’s been a while since I’ve been in the dating scene—I don’t even know if I’m still… desirable.”

Oh, if you only knew some were dying for this moment.

The first to approach you, and shockingly no less than a day after, was Gojo.

It was through an unexpected text, making you surprised he still had your number after all that time—or at all, considering you didn’t really text anyone outside of your family, close friends, and… Naoya.

Satoru once belonged to your social circle, but due to unknown reasons of his own, most likely to do with Suguru, he strayed.

Either way, you responded as amicably expected.

S: [Are you doing anything tonight?]

Y: [No… why?]

S: [Let’s get something to eat 😋]

Y: [Did you text the wrong person?]

S: [Wait, is this not Y/N’s number?]

Y: [It is…]

S: [Then I’ll pick you up later at Shoko’s apartment, 7 alright for you?]

Y: [Wait, how do you even know where I’m staying?]

S: [It’s a date, then! See you soon!]

It was good to see that Satoru remained as… well, pushy as ever. Not that you were glad to have been pulled into this outing without further precedent, but you eventually succumbed to the flow, and soon, you were in one of the fanciest restaurants of the city, sitting at a table Satoru had gotten through a reservation (difficult to do so given the status of the establishment, guess he can do anything that he sets his mind to), while chatting the evening away with just about anything that crossed his mind.

Regardless of how… oddly this situation came to be, you still found enjoyment in catching up with an old friend of yours. It had been so long since anyone had seen him, many even thought he had left the country all together.

Not that you had a way to know, since your connections were already limited thanks to Naoya—One of the many things you’ve had to sacrifice in to keep your attention solely on him.

…

Was your relationship with him always this consuming?

Well, you had lots of catch up with Satoru either way—it almost felt like you were getting to know him all over again! Happy to see that he essentially remained the same (somewhat irritating) goofball he always was.

But unfortunately, just as the good remained, the bad also prevailed, which you’d be reminded of when going for a walk around the city, just a few blocks down the main road when both were approached by a group of women, who upon catching sight of him and his undeniable attractiveness, knew they needed his attention.

That’s the thing with Satoru. Raised as the heir of a highly prestigious company, he just never got enough of it. Always wanting more and more, and not afraid to do whatever necessary to get it, careless if it was to the detriment of others.

Thus, you assumed it wouldn’t take long before he completely ignored you in favor of them, leaving you behind.

When talking about him, you normally wouldn’t care if he left you or not. He was just another friend, long accustomed to his ways. It was just… never like that.

But after all that happened with Naoya, it’s like your still-healing wound reopened, pain sharper when slowly reminded that even with a friend, you weren’t good enough to retain their attention, less their care…

Well, at least it was a good distraction, and you got to see Satoru again. You wonder how much would a taxi cost to take—

“Seriously, couldn’t you be any denser?? I’m on a date here!”

As if you’d been showered with a bucketful of ice-cold water, you freeze, blinking while slowly turning to see him and his angered face.

Did you… Did you hear him right?

“Get lost.” Satoru doesn’t even bother letting them respond before his hand is already on your back, gently pushing you forward and away from the group, leaving behind both the distraught, slightly spiteful women…

And your erroneous preconceptions.

As he goes back to the previous conversation you two were having, acting as if nothing happened, even suggesting getting something sweet to serve as dessert —your choice, he’d tease— all the self-doubt you felt for his actions immediately evaporates.

It was simple, more likely unintentional, but his gesture in defending your importance, highlighting the fact he wanted to be with you, against how he usually behaved…

Made you feel special, realizing that perhaps it wasn’t that hard to be somewhat of a decent person.

Yet, your feelings…

“It was a nice night out.” Satoru would say once parked outside Shoko’s apartment complex, signifying the end of your unexpected yet pleasurable evening with him.

“Yeah, it was… nice.”

“I hope we can do this again.” But you don’t keep your hopes up, not when your feelings for Naoya were still there, prickling at the back of your mind, inundating you with a sense of wrongfulness, for you were never one to offer the other cheek, regardless of what your estranged boyfriend was or wasn’t doing.

Unless Gojo were to do something to make you… well, not change your mind, but rattle your beliefs, if only for a moment, when he ruffled the top of your head, giving you a smile, before softly kissing your forehead.

Alongside the reminder that…

“You’re too pretty to be upset about someone like him.”

Albeit archaic, his words convinced you that perhaps… you could do with another day like this.

The second to approach you, yet again to much of your surprise, is Geto. Just a few days after Satoru did. Although his invitation was much more… palpable.

In other words, you were getting lunch with Shoko when he made his “sudden” appearance, joining the two for a bite, before driving both back to her apartment, only voicing his intentions when she was out the car, leaving you alone.

Although sweet, wholeheartedly intending to spend time with you, you could still that some of it lingered the realms of an unspoken competition between him and Satoru—which you didn’t know whether to be flattered by, or worried…

“—and let me guess. He spent the whole evening talking about himself.”

Somewhat, not that you cared to justify, really, for you were far more enthralled in learning all that he’s been up to since he left.

But it was the truth either way.

Geto sighs.

“We’ll do something better.” And so, is how the date begins, by first taking you to the mall, window shopping through essentially every store that crossed your path, while catching up with him—he too had disappeared for a while, motives unclear, although the common theory was that he had a nasty falling out with Gojo. But now it seems they’re on good terms given the way he occasionally mentioned him throughout the conversation.

Beyond that, you assumed Geto also took this visit as a good opportunity to go through some pending errands, maybe get something for himself as well—or… for someone else.

The things he was looking at were quite eye-catching, after all, very gift appropriate.

Regardless of who it was intended to, you were right to assume they were special to him if he was considering buying a diamond necklace…

But yet again, that’s what you believed—reality was simply much different.

Or obvious.

“Why don’t you try it on?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you wanted to try it on— I know it’ll look beautiful on you.” He’d say that, genuinely, with just about anything he deemed suitably for you, ranging from jewelry to clothes…

With your face flaring every single time.

“Oh—I—I don’t—” you stammer, struggling whether to decline his offer because this is all too luxurious for your taste…

Or because you were still processing the words that made you blush in the first place… alongside the fact that at one point, his hand had reached for yours without even noticing, intertwining his fingers with yours and staying that way while the two continued to walk around the mall.

Just… why did Satoru and Suguru decided to appear out of the nowhere?

“No, thank you.” Is what you eventually manage to say. If he’s noticed your nerves, he doesn’t say, instead, he simply gives your hand a soft squeeze, followed by another equally charming smile. “I don’t feel like trying out things either way.”

“Don’t worry about it, then. Perhaps another time.”

At his promise, you can’t hold back your skin from growing increasingly hotter, doing your best to instead focus on the movie the two agreed to watch, with little to no success, of course, considering Geto also took this opportunity to unconsciously drape his arm over your shoulders and move you closer.

While stereotypical, it still manages to fluster, and that’s how you’d remain for the rest of the date: even when getting something to eat, or when it was time to take you back to Shoko’s apartment once late enough.

But on the way back to the parking lot, you’re able to snap out of this trance when something catches your attention, just by the corner of your eye, effectively stopping you on your tracks.

Something simple, like a minimal black halter dress… unintentionally the same model you’ve wanting to try since forever, but never daring to do so, believing that your body was unbefitting of such style—and quickly, you moved on.

Your gaze didn’t linger much on it beyond a few mere seconds, certainly not for Suguru to notice, or so you considered…

But when the next day comes, a package is suddenly delivered at Shoko’s apartment, with your name on it, that by various personal reasons you open with great anticipation, growing distraught when seeing it had to do nothing with what you projected—

Quickly flustered upon realizing that the sender was Suguru all along, demonstrating his attentiveness by gifting you the same dress you saw last night, as well as his intentions of seeking something more with you.

“I enjoyed our time together. I wish to see you again—hopefully with this dress.”

You didn’t think you were too obvious when it came to your reaction, but at Shoko’s mention, you finally acknowledge you’ve been smiling, heart loudly pounding against your chest as you lovingly held the dress, moved by his gesture…

For when was the last time someone had gifted you something to your liking, without having to beg for it? Without having to justify why you wanted it?

…

…

Had it really been that long?

Just what else was missing in your relationship with Naoya…?

Or perhaps, not wanting to face?

…

Your feelings, to begin with.

Because as attentive and caring Satoru and Suguru had been, neither were courageous enough to acknowledge the situation that put you in their reach in the first place, opting to instead reap the benefits, but ignore the rest.

It wasn’t malicious, not at all. It’s been stated by now that they truly cared for you, always checking in on you whenever possible.

It’s just that… they didn’t feel comfortable doing so yet, believing they were far from appropriate, or close enough, to do so.

Judging by those characteristics, the only one worthy enough, and the one that would end up confronting you for that matter, was Nanami, who wanted to see you as soon as he found out the horrible situation Naoya had forced you to but struggled to do so thanks to his strenuous new job.

But once he was free, the first thing he did was call you, eventually meeting in Shoko’s apartment (she was gone for the day, for privacy matters, how convenient) and thus, everything else unfolded.

“Why are you even dating Naoya if he’s hurting you so much?”

“I—I don’t think that’s for you to discuss.” You objected, going through a roller coaster of emotions, a combination of unwillingness to speak of the matter, and fear of admitting the truth.

To talk about something like this was never an easy matter, more so when the situation was already deep in hot water…

Yet, his assertive nature didn’t come as a surprise to you anymore, nor permitted you to avoid it.

Nanami had always been this way, the one willing to speak about difficult things, rip the bandage, careless if you were prepared for it or not.

And let everything that is meant to happen, happen.

“My relationship is something only I should speak about! And when I feel ready for it…”

“Not when I see how much it’s hurting you.” He rebutted. “When was the last time you were genuinely happy at his side? Or where you didn’t have to sacrifice your personal life just to keep him happy?”

It’s obvious what he’s referring to—Nanami is another one of your friends you’ve lost contact with due to Naoya’s… jealousy. But different from Satoru and Suguru, he cared too much to just let you go, consistently reaching out to you whenever possible—even when you never answered.

“You don’t know what we agreed on—”

“I don’t think that losing your friends was part of that.”

“You don’t know him, you don’t know Naoya at all!’

“And you do?” Nanami counters, breath hitching at your throat, upset by his abruptness. “You once said Naoya was crude, but he’d never do anything to willingly hurt you—and yet, here you are, in an open relationship you clearly didn’t want.”

“Kento—that’s—” your voice trembles, his words too close for comfort. “That’s not—"

“Then why? Why do you keep tolerating him?” Nanami frowns. “Do you hate yourself that much?”

“What? No!” You shake your head, aghast by his accusation. “That’s not it, at all!”

“Then what is it, Y/N? What could possibly entail sticking around with a man that has done nothing but hurt you?”

“Stop it…”

“Seeing other women while still being with you? Is that your idea of a good relationship?”

“Kento, please—”

“It’s never my intention to offend you, but I can’t help believing you’re growing desperate—seeking for something you can’t have with him! So why? Why do you try so hard to make it work, when he clearly doesn’t deserve—"

“Because I don’t want to be alone, ok?!” You eventually shriek, tears in your eyes as his words stung your heart too deeply, too much to handle in silence anymore. “It’s just as simple as that!”

Nanami’s eyes widen, taken aback by your unexpected outburst and confession, yet, as surprised as he was, if not bothered, he was also very, greatly hurt by its meaning.

Your words unknowingly disregarding everyone else that had ever been there for you.

And such, he cannot believe it. He doesn’t—not when he’s been there all along.

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N.” Nanami insists. “What is the truth? Is he forcing you to this??”

“No, Kento, he’s not!” you objected. “I truly want to be with him, because he’s the only one that has ever wanted to be with me.”

“You know very well that’s not true.”

“Seems like our perspectives vary greatly.” You frown. “I remember attempts of trying to get close to people, only to be pushed to the side when someone better came along. Person after person, they all just… ignored me; either because I was overshadowed by my family, or because I was too mundane to compete with others.

Until… Naoya came along. He was the only one that saw me for who I was. Even though it was mostly because I fit the mold he wanted.

But even then… I was happy to play along, because it meant that for the first time in my life, I meant someone to something.”

“That’s what you think? That you didn’t mean anything to no one else?”

“It’s not what I think—It’s what I know.” You sniffle, doing your best to hold back the tears pooling in your eyes from falling. “…Even now I know I’m only relevant because I’m Naoya’s girlfriend… but once that’s gone, I’m sure no one will look my way—"

“That’s not true.” He swiftly interjects.

“…And how would you know that? How would you know that this time, fate wouldn’t be cruel to me, like it has always been?!”

“Because there is someone that cares for you.”

“Let me guess, my parents.”

“No—I didn’t mean them.” Nanami frowns.

“Then who—” you breathe. “Who are you referring to??”

And suddenly, thanks to his softening eyes and growing silence…  something clicks in your mind and all makes sense.

His anger, his protectiveness, his insistence…

There was a reason behind them all, only now does it become clear to you.

“…Why didn’t you say anything?” you softly ask, heart sinking when looking back at the dismissive way you treated him, always standing by your side, and yet…

“Because you seemed happy with Naoya.” Nanami adds. “Perhaps I was at fault too, for not having spoken of my feelings before, but… after seeing the way you smiled with him, I supposed it was for the best if I instead, supported you as a friend.

But because I’m your friend, I can’t allow you to go on thinking no one has ever cared for you. That no one has loved you for who you are… or will never do.

And most importantly, remind you that this—this isn’t what happiness looks like.”

At his open declaration, you couldn’t stop the wave of overwhelming emotions from washing over you, a combination of shock, sadness, and perhaps… longing, wondering what would’ve happened if you knew of his feelings back then.

Would you have accepted them? Or would everything continue as it does now?

Well, one thing is for sure—Nanami would’ve never suggested something like this; the thought wouldn’t even cross his mind!

But it’s too late now. You’ve made your decision and now, you were suffering the consequences…

However, you didn’t have to be alone anymore—and Nanami would reassure you of such by the following words, the same one’s he wished to have told you back then… and possibly save you from all this pain.

“I love you, Y/N. I always did, and I’ll always do. Even if we never see each other again—you’ll always remain in my heart.”

Because he would rather die than to make decisions that hurt you.

Leading you to unwittingly discover what it was to feel loved, for the first time in your life.

A heartwarming sensation, with no strings attached, just… someone that wishes your well-being above everything else, alongside your happiness, and nothing more.

And such, something grows inside you, something that pushes you to be closer to him, far beyond this day—

Coincidentally, he’s also the first one you kiss.

After Nanami’s visit, your days would slowly become brighter, although the grey cloud of Naoya’s seeming infidelity still lingered in the background.

But even then, your mind didn’t dwell on him for long, difficult to do so thanks to Satoru’s, Suguru’s, and now, Nanami’s interventions, as well as Shoko’s advice of enjoying the best of your new status.

The men involved didn’t seem to mind… too much.

Sure, their jealousy would sometimes rise to the occasion (from one person in specific) but as long as you continued to be attentive with them, they were willing to “share”, believing it was only a matter of time before you left that jerk-of-a boyfriend of yours once and for all, settling for on them instead.

Long story short, everything seemed to go on peacefully with your new routine…

Until the sudden appearance of a man you never expected to see, less set his eyes on you, since the only time you’ve seen him was that one instance you became acquainted with him thanks to Naoya’s business, never to speak again, disrupted all you held true.

While you might’ve seen this moment as expendable, forgettable even, to him, it was the fated day he knew he must have you—a growing desire to make you his when the time was right.

Naoya’s stupidity opening that door.

Sukuna was the owner of a rival company, a fierce competitor that always made the Zen’in uneasy whenever mentioned, constantly keeping them on their toes—because with a man as belligerent as him, to let their guard down, if just for the slightest, meant the complete loss of all they’ve worked for.

It’s safe to say that Sukuna had garnered the reputation of being aggressively intimidating, thus it was only right to assume that his approach would be of the same nature.

“I—I can’t” is what little you manage to muster through the fear constricting your throat; you still remember the eeriness you felt when meeting him that one time, never believing it could worsen… until you had him just a few feet away.

“I wasn’t asking.” He responds, the tone in his voice not only highlights his sincerity, but also warns you there won’t be a second chance.

Urging you to do what’s best for you, less…

Perhaps out of fear of experiencing his anger, some kind of retribution, or because deep inside, past your worry and hesitation, you were genuinely intrigued to know what a man like him might’ve found interesting in you… you accept.

Because after all was said and done, he was far different to what you were normally accustomed to…

As well as to willing to bargain for.

You don’t know what it was—maybe it was your blinding intrigue, your desire to taste something way beyond your reach… or because you took Shoko’s words a bit too literally, even though with him, she insisted you to be careful…

You ended up following Sukuna into his apartment; And not only that, but you also let him show you what true desire meant, in more ways than one, sure to never forget.

“Su—Sukuna—!” you’d breathe, whatever little you could muster through the tightening of your chest and the fuzziness of your mind, harshly gripping his arms, as he pushes you over the edge and into your release for what seemed to be the nth time that night. “Sukuna, please—I need—I need a break—”

“No—you will take it!” he groans, holding your waist and keeping you in place as his cock deep into your core, each time harsher than the last one, bruising that spot that always made you see stars over and over again; unexpectedly, a place that Naoya was all too ignorant of, Sukuna being amongst the few, if not the only, to achieve such feat.

No wonder you were reacting the way you were, losing yourself in pleasure, because just as he teased…

“This is the first time you’ve ever been with a real man, isn’t it?” He laughs when feeling you quiver against his hold, feeble against the sensations he’s relentlessly giving you, finding your numbing reaction, eyes rolling to the back of your head, mouth agape, and toes curling… to be quite adorable.

Doing all in his power to get more of this reaction—hopefully, beyond this night too.

“They simply don’t make the cut! —But how could they? With a cunt as lewd as yours, one isn’t enough!”

Sukuna doesn’t find satisfaction in seeing you with other men, less when you’re still “taken”.

But ever the one to seek advantage, even in the most uneven of fields, Sukuna was quick to see the endless possibility this opportunity provided—more than ready to exploit them…

“Don’t—don’t say that!” you’d moan, with such an exciting cry, Sukuna just couldn’t help prolonging this night. “That’s not—that’s not tru—ah!”

And keep you all for himself.

“I don’t want you staying at that hideous apartment anymore.” Sukuna would mutter the moment you opened your eyes; having fallen asleep soon after the strenuous ordeal, and suffering from its aftermath as soon as conscious.

“It’s not… nasty.” You groan, slowly blinking as you look back at him, doing your best to push yourself up from the bed, only to fall back down when resulting too weak to do so. However, even when dealing with the sharp pains across your body alongside unbearable drowsiness, you’re capable enough to defend Shoko. “…It’s a nice place.”

He chuckles.

“Yeah, I’m sure it is.” Sukuna then reaches over to the nearby bedside table, sliding the first drawer open and taking out a pair of keys which he’d give over to you soon after.

You look at it perplexedly, confused as to their meaning… before growing shocked, slumber completely gone from your body when listening the following statement.

“From now on, you’re staying in my apartment.”

“Wh—what?” First that, and now, this? Sukuna meant no joke when it came to you. “No, I can’t accept this!”

“You sure love making me repeat myself, woman.” He scoffs. “It’s not a matter of whether you can or cannot—you will.”

It’s an amazing talent of Sukuna to always sound threatening even when dealing with the most ordinary of things, but either way, you’re not interested in testing how far his limits went, and thus, (not that you had any other option) you accept the keys while silently wondering what the future holds for you by making this decision…

“Uraume will help you move your things. I better see you here when I come back after work—less you wish to be punished again.” He smirks, fingers sliding along your skin before pulling you close to him once more, a whine escaping your lips as you realize what is to transpire next yet again.

Guess you’ll find out soon enough.

…

…

…

As well as what Naoya’s been up to, for the day Sukuna allowed you to, you decide to go back to your shared apartment to pick up a few things to take with… him, now that you’re essentially living together.

It was a very awkward arrangement, if you thought about it, one that Shoko was strictly opposed to, but… well, you would be lying if you didn’t admit you were having a good time (outside of the painful pleasures he pushed you through every night) for a plethora of luxurious reasons. Far nicer than what you were used to seeing with Naoya.

Which you could openly enjoy due to Sukuna’s absence, rarely getting to see him due to work commitments, Uraume representing him instead… not that it was any better, for they were just as awkward as awkward can get.

And yet, not as much as what happened when you walked through the door of your shared apartment with Naoya, welcomed by the one person you did not expect to see there, believing him to be completely enraptured in his new freedom, given the silence he always responded with whenever you texted or called him.

“Naoya?” You asked, although confused, you were more… shocked to see his distraught appearance, almost as if he hadn’t been able to sleep for the last few days—or at all.

“What are you doing here?” you add. “I thought… well, I thought you’d be… somewhere else.”

“I can say the same thing about you.” He frowns. “Is it true that you’re staying with that woman?”

“Her name is Shoko…” you murmur; even when away, Naoya remains…

Either way, given his attention on her, it seems like he doesn’t know about Sukuna, yet.

Or Gojo.

Or Geto.

Or Nanami.

Because if he did, it would’ve been the first thing he mentioned; his jealous nature never one to take as a jest.

Unless…

“But yes, I am staying with her.” You confirm. “What about… you? Where have you been staying?”

… and still, you can’t help but worry for him.

“Here.” He confesses, you blink.

“…Really?” Even when skepticism is evident in your voice, he doesn’t not say anything else. Instead…

“Yes. And… it’s time for you to come back home.”

“Why? What happened?” you fret, naturally fearing the worst…

Which you were right in assuming, just that… it wouldn’t be what you expected.

“You—you had enough fun.” Naoya unwittingly stammers, a scowl on his face, or was it sorrow? As he continued. “It’s time for you to remember you’re mine and come back home.”

“Enough… fun?” You slowly repeat, invertedly hurt by his words, as if he weren’t the one that set up this situation in the first place, yet, still overwhelmingly confused as to what he meant.

Suspicion that perhaps he did know about your flings after all begins to settle in your mind, but it isn’t until his following words that it finally takes roots.

“Don’t hide it, Y/N—I know you’ve seen others. And quite frequently too!”

“You’re… you’re doing the same thing.” You immediately respond, scurrying to defend yourself. “And you don’t see me complaining…”

Even if you wanted so much to do so.

“No, of course not—too busy with them, aren’t you??”

“Excuse me? You’re—You’re one to talk! You never answered any of my texts, or calls!” you gasp. “Do you even know how… how…”

Hurt I was?

Guessing by his absence, you assume not.

… Oh, how you wished Naoya kept silent. Kept his words to himself and went on acting as he always did, because maybe, you wouldn’t have felt this burning anger stirring inside you, created by the reassurance by those around you, the reminder that you were still deserving of being cared for, appreciated.

Far more than what Naoya has ever done for you in the past few years.

That much you see now.

“… Let me get this straight, Naoya… you want me to come back… because you don’t want me to see others, even though you did the same thing??” you say, and by the gloomy look in Naoya’s eyes, you could tell you guessed right, stinging a nerve while in the process.

Yet not a sentiment that insulted him, but rather… reminded him of the shocking truth he’s keeping away from you.

Hoping it stays that way, unless you place the pieces together yourself.

“Do not talk to me like that.” He warns, you frown.

“I’m just stating the truth—you went to see someone as soon as you left that day, didn’t you?”

“That’s not—why does it even matter at this point? You did the same afterwards!”

“Again with that—You were the one that suggested it in the first place!” you gasp. “Why does it bother you so much?? Didn’t you…. Weren’t you encouraging me to it?!”

“Yeah, but it’s not like I expected you to actually—”

Realizing the imprudence of his words, he suddenly goes silent.

“Expected to actually… what?” you frown.

Naoya doesn’t answer, all he does is scoff before looking away.

A few more seconds of silence, something clicks in your mind.

Anger finally taking a hold of your emotions.

Because just how foolish could you have been?

“Please, come back.” Is what Naoya eventually says. “I don’t want an open relationship anymore—let’s just forget about this and… move on.”

“And why would I do that?” you scowl. “Don’t you have other dates to go to?”

…

Silence yet again.

“Naoya?”

“I don’t. I… never did.”

The truth jolts you far more than you imagined, for it completely contradicts all that you once believed to be true, replacing the pain you’d been feeling since that day, the tears, the anger, and all your actions… with nothing.

As if everything you suffered… was void of any true meaning.

But that was only one point of view, you had yet to see Naoya’s. The truth as to why he hadn’t gotten any dates.

Or at least… successful ones.

Naoya did go out with women that caught his interest, having his go-to procedure ready to go when it came to impressing them, such as taken them to an expensive restaurant, gifting them luxurious jewelry, or simply showing off the privilege his family name provided— things he was sure would get him in their pants.

But when he thought it was only a matter of seconds before he got lucky, they would coldly ignore him, turn around, and… disappear.

It was difficult for him to understand why that happened, considering all that he “offered” …

What he failed to realize, though, is that one simple yet big problem stood between him and his ultimate goal: a personality many weren’t willing to tolerate, especially with the intensity he seemed to go on about, no matter the amount of riches he represented.

And soon, it wouldn’t take long before rumors of his personality began to spread into the circles he was involved in, not like it wasn’t happening already beforehand, Naoya was already well-known as a bratty heir with an equally explosive temperament—he just became more… popular.

Rumors he never had issues with, unbothered by them, because you… well, you seemed to not care for them. Willingly tolerating him instead, perhaps far more than he was deserving of, and keeping by his side, no matter what.

Giving him a false sense of confidence.

Unfortunately, he wouldn’t come to realize this until seeing you with someone else—whispers and sightings of your dates, far more successful than any of his attempts, and without even trying, was enough to ignite a fire under his ass and come rushing to you.

Falsely believing it was just a matter of calling it off for everything to return as it was—you by his side, and his blinding jealousy effectively gone. Because only he deserved to have you.

Failing to realize the damage he’s already struck onto this relationship,

Yet, he still came back, shamelessly expecting he’d be received with the forgiveness, compassion and care you unconditionally provided, no matter the gravity of his mistakes…

But what seemed noble, prophetic even, for him—

Was only insulting to you, and when the nature of his actions reveals itself to you, your anger transforms intofury.

Because a man like Naoya shouldn’t have the freedom to openly discard you, and then want you back when things aren’t going his way—without facing consequences.

You were not there to be a steppingstone of sorts, be there through every single step of the road, sacrifice your life… only to be replaced just because he wants.

It was painful, it was unjust…

And it was unpunished.

For him to make it up for you, he’ll have to face the repercussions of his acts, experience just how much you suffered…

Only then, would you consider going back to him.

“I’m sorry, but I have things to do.”

“What?” Naoya’s eyes widen. “What do you mean you have things to do, Y/N? What could you…—you’re going to see someone.”

“And what if I am?” you frown. “I’m not doing anything I’m not allowed to do.”

“I don’t want this anymore!” He gasps. “I don’t want you to see anyone else, just me!”

“…Then you’ll just have to wait until I’m done. Until I’m sure we belong together, you know? You said so yourself, I just need to get it out of my system before I make a decision—” At being served a spoonful of his own medicine, the color in Naoya’s face disappears. “Only then, will I’ll come back.”

If you ever do.

“Y/N—Wait!”

Because after what you have planned for the following weeks, Naoya would only be lucky if you even do as little as think of him.

Shoko is the one that let everyone know of your new "single" life. Except Sukuna, that man has ears everywhere, and when he saw it as his moment, he rose to the occasion. Nice.

Not gonna lie, this idea has been on my mind for a while now, like, as soon as Y/N is single people begin to hound her. Everyoneeeeeeeee Naoya really does not realize the stupidity he committed until it's too late. :)

And there you have it, my take on an open relationship with him! I once read that open relationships don't work, unless you're talking about celebrities, and I'm honestly inclined to accept that...

But yeah, him doing this is like the worst thing Naoya could think of; there's just so many things that could go wrong—safe to say, in another universe 1) Naoya would never suggest it. 2) Y/N would never accept it lol.

Anyways, thank you so much for sending in this ask! I hope it was to your liking :> ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Take care, and hope to see you soon!

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

[windvexer]

What counts as a spell? Is intent all you need or do you have to do something before to get it all juicy and stuff.

Hi Anon! What a fun question, because there is no answer except this CAN OF WORMS you just opened.

There is no consensus anywhere as to what constitutes a "spell."

There is even LESS consensus as to what makes a spell go.

Intent is a good starting place. It is probably where you should start for all acts of practical magic.

But I find that in it's common form, the idea of intent + willpower = magic has been diluted past the point of utility for most people.

Like if we're talking about "intent is everything" I'm reminded most closely of Chaos Magic. But Chaos Magic is not a school of "just set your intent and you've worked magic!". It's a very rigorously developed system.

In Hine's Condensed Chaos, he lists the third Core Principal of Chaos magic as technical excellence, and I quote:

One of the early misconceptions about Chaos Magic was that it gave practitioners carte blanche to do whatever they liked, and so become sloppy (or worse, soggy) in their attitudes to self-assessment, analysis, etc. Not so. The Chaos approach has always advocated rigorous self-assessment and analysis, emphasized practice at what techniques you're experimenting with until you get the results you desire. Learning to 'do' magic requires that you develop a set of skills and abilities and if you're going to get involved in all this weird stuff, why not do it to the best of your ability?

Later in the book, Hine likens "magical powers" to the concept of achievements, and goes on to say:

Something which is an achievement is the result of practice, discipline, and patience.

Shortly after:

Chaos Magic is not about discarding all rules and restraints, but the process of discovering the most effective guidelines and disciplines which enable you to effect change in the world.

(In above quotes, all emphasis my own)

But these ideas get taken - and I'll give a big nod to the LOA which is just the worst kind of brainrot for encouraging the "intent is all that matters" mindset - and the ideas get diluted so much that people are literally out here saying, "so all those people who spend years studying magic in order to get results are buffoons? All I have to do is imagine what I want and it will be delivered to me? All humans since the start of history just have to decide they want something and it will happen in a miraculous manner?"

(Not you, Anon. I'm just in a mood)

In my mind, yes - something beyond intent must occur in order to make spells go.

But what?

Anon, have you ever heard that dumb belief floating around that all herbs in a spell can be replaced by rosemary, and all stones in a spell can be replaced by clear quartz, and these two things are "universal substitutes"?

I am 95% sure that this nonsense was based on two very popular dictionaries Cunningham wrote in the 80s, the Encyclopedia of Crystal, Gem & Metal Magic, and Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs.

In the very long entry for Clear Quartz:

Quartz crystal is used as a power amplifier during magic. It is worn or placed on the altar for this purpose.

And from Rosemary:

Rosemary is generally used as a substitute for frankincense.

And I believe that someone somewhere got the idea that since clear quartz amplifies all other powers, it therefore somehow magically Ditto-copies all other powers, and like a shapeshifter somehow becomes something it is not nor ever was.

And, you know. What's the difference between subbing out frankincense and blackthorn between friends?

These beliefs have become so popular that sometimes when unscrupulous blogs rip off entire Cunningham encyclopedia entries and paste them into tumblr posts (without credit), THEY INCLUDE THE EXTRA MADE-UP BIT ABOUT ROSEMARY BEING A UNIVERSAL SUBSTITUTE.

Anon, your question is "is it just intent or do we need other stuff to make it go," but sadly,

IMO common beliefs about the stuff that makes spells go have also been diluted past the point of utility for most people.

Because if I sat here and said, "hey Anon, it's not just intent, you also have to use correspondences ^-^/" then the very first thing you are likely to run into is absolute nonsense about correspondences. IMO, effective utilization of correspondences is a skillset based in research, theory, and technique.

Or if I said, "you also have to raise energy! 👍", this may be mistaken to mean, "set intent but also visualize white light inside of a candle," because the concept of raising energy and visualizing has been (IMO) diluted past the point of utility for most people. I believe that effective utilization of energy work is a song composed of many notes and chords, several of which you must practice before you can utilize it.

And to complicate all of this, which non-diluted things in which combinations you need to make the spell go depends on what paradigm you operate off of, because while there are approximately one billion ways to do magic that works, my currently very dim worldview is that most people who are talking about magic are doing magic that doesn't work,

and in my opinion the actual basis and reasoning, like the rationality behind the magical systems is really important. Because you need that shit to understand what it is within that system that makes the spell go.

And you need to understand what makes the spell go to make the system fit into your life without breaking it, and in order to troubleshoot problems without making things crumble further.

Because when people don't understand the basis and reasoning you end up with "rosemary is a universal substitute" and "imagining white light makes the spell go."

There are a few circumstances where you can totally strip technique from theory and be successful, but there are also a hell of a lot of people out here feeling shit about their practice because their spells never seem to work.

So.

I really just recommend choosing what school of magic you would like to learn about and participate in, and reading an introductory book on it.

This is because it is the job of introductory books to explain the principles and theories behind a system of magic, and most importantly, what makes the magic go, and a step-by-step primer on what you, the practitioner, are supposed to do to make that kind of magic go.

Despite above rambles I'm really not a Chaote, so I can't recommend a strong primer. As far as I'm aware, Liber Null & Psychonaut by Peter J. Carroll is a core text.

For Traditional Witchcraft, try The Crooked Path by Kelden.

For something more Wiccan, I can't recall having anything bad to say about Psychic Witch by Mat Auryn.

If either of these things are too Witchcrafty for you, try Six Ways by Aidan Wachter, which is still witchcraft, but it hits different.

For a general primer on helping your spells go, try Elements of Spellcrafting by Jason Miller.

#answered

[cosmerelists]

What Happens When You Read Stormlight Archive first...

Personally, I ignored all of the “reading order” advice and chose Way of Kings as my very first Sanderson book. No regrets, to be honest! But from personal experience, here is what happens when your first stop in the Cosmere is the Stormlight Archive.

[Spoilers for Mistborn & Stormlight Archive & Warbreaker]

1. You don’t know who Hoid is

At first, Wit was just another character to me. Then the hints that he was, like, immortal or super old or some sort of god kept piling up. When Dalinar asked Wit if he was a Herald, I thought, “Ah ha! I was right!”

I was not right.

2. You don’t recognize any Worldhoppers

Zahel was just a grumpy guy who could do weird things with laundry. Azure was cool but I didn’t understand why she just sort of left the plot at one point. When people were called “oddly short” by Roshar standards, it meant nothing to me.

3. You don’t recognize non-Roshar magic

Seriously, that laundry scene with Zahel made NO SENSE to me. And when Hoid used non-Roshar powers, I just figured it was, like, some sort of bard thing.

4. You get very impatient with the interludes

I didn’t want my world to be expanded or to understand the nuances of spren or fabrials. I just wanted to get back to Kaladin! I remember being completely baffled by that one interlude where three men I didn’t know where looking for some dude with white hair and a narrow face. 

It was definitely only on a reread that I appreciated them. 

5. The big reveals are lost on you at first

When Szeth’s sword asked if he wanted to destroy some evil today, I thought, “Huh! Neat!” When Ialai namedropped Scadrial, I thought it was probably a person. And when Thaidakar was revealed as the Lord of Scars, I don’t think I even noticed really? I was too busy weeping as I tried to remember the difference between Thaidakar and Restares. 

6. You buy into the Shallan-Adolin-Kaladin love triangle

Honestly, I wasn’t sure which way it would turn out! Would Shallan leave Adolin for Kaladin? It felt so plausible! I had not yet learned the ironclad rule that all arranged marriages in a Sanderson book will be successful. By the time I got to Warbreaker, I was like, “Oh, Siri is being married against her will to the evil, tyrannical god-king? I guess they’ll get along!” And I was right.

7. The magic system feels like so much

I was hanging on by a thread trying to keep straight Surgebinding and Honorblades and Shardblades and whatever Hoid had going on. Not to mention fabrials. By the time I got to Mistborn, it was like, “Three completely independent magic systems that depend on their own rules and can interact? Yeah! I can handle that!”

8. You want to read them all

For me, starting with Stormlight Archive was best! I loved it so much that I was suddenly wanting to read everything Sanderson wrote. Plus, the backwards reveals were pretty fun. Oh, you’re dead, are you, Kelsier? That’s not what Book 4 of Stormlight says...

And hey! Crazy how the King’s Wit keeps showing up!

#cosmerelists #Stormlight Archive #Mistborn #cosmere #Hoid #Kaladin #Shallan #Adolin #Zahel #Azure #warbreaker #Siri

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling For the Devil [Part one: "The Night You Met"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader [Series Masterlist]

Summary: You have a bad Monday back at work and grab a few drinks at a nearby bar with a co-worker who takes the opportunity to have a certain attractive lawyer buy you a drink.

Or

How you meet Matthew Murdock and then repeatedly embarrass yourself.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 4.2k

a/n: So I'm finally sharing a few of these installments on tumblr, but I've been posting them on AO3 since the beginning of the year. Currently there are 74 parts posted on AO3 (almost 300k words total) and still counting. I update this series a few times a week and I figured I'd finally share a few installments here and maybe, eventually, post them all on tumblr? Please heed the warnings--there is a ton of sex later in this series (y'all who've read it know what I'm talking about) and some hurt/no comfort for a bit later during what I deemed Big Angst. If you haven't heard of this series, I certainly hope you enjoy it!

Tapping your fingers lightly against the cold bottle in your hands, your eyes fixed on your beer, you blew out a rough breath. Classic rock was playing in the dimly lit dive bar, a random one you and Katy had last minute ducked inside after work. Neither of you had been here before but after the rough Monday back at work, both of you were dying for a drink and it didn't really matter where.

"I feel like I'm chasing a goddamned dead-end," you complained, glaring at the half-finished beer. 

"Maybe you need a new angle?" Katy suggested. 

She threw back the rest of her beer from her place beside you before raising a hand, flagging down the surly bartender. The older woman behind the bar headed back towards you both and Katy ordered another drink. 

You were lost in thought for a moment, focusing on the story Ellison had been telling you to drop for over a week now. Running a hand through your hair exasperatedly, you picked up your beer in your other hand and took a long pull from the bottle. Your head was buzzing from more than just the alcohol in your system as you swallowed the drink down. 

"Didn't Ellison give you a new piece today?" Katy asked, her attention returning to you when the new beer was set in front of her.

"Yeah," you answered her with an eye roll. "Fluff piece on the local animal shelter. Which, don't get me wrong," you said, raising a hand, "I love dogs and all, but I'm not really in this to write about dogs. I didn't bust my ass to get onto The Bulletin to write fluff." You sighed, eyeing Katy beside you. "What's he got you working on now?"

"That warehouse murder last night," she answered.

"Fuck," you grumbled, slamming your head to the bar counter. Immediately you regretted the action, raising your head and pulling a face as you rubbed at the sticky dampness the bar counter had left behind. "Ugh," you grunted. "I'm on his shit list this month, aren't I?"

"Yup," Katy answered bluntly. "You know he doesn't like any of us chasing dangerous stories about mobsters after…everything that happened a little while back."

You groaned in frustration before picking up your beer and finishing the last dregs of it. Katy nudged you abruptly in the arm, just about causing you to spill the beer. You swallowed, turning to shoot her a pointed look. 

"Isn't that Karen Page?" she whispered, gesturing her head towards the blonde at the pool table. "The one everyone whispered about saying Ellison supposedly fired her because she might know Daredevil's identity?"

Your eyes turned to the pool table, examining the blonde who was laughing with two other gentlemen. "Yeah, looks like her," you answered. 

"Now she had some good shit she wrote," Katy said with a grin. "You know, before Ellison started doling out pieces on animal shelters."

Your eyes returned to your empty beer, but Katy continued to stare at the pool table, fingers drumming on the bar.

"Maybe we should stop talking about work," you said. "The point of grabbing a drink was to forget about this shitty Monday. I'm currently not forgetting."

"Mmm, I wouldn't mind forgetting about my Monday by getting underneath him," Katy replied, her eyes still on the pool table as she gestured her beer towards someone.

You glanced back over, your eyes landing on the man drinking back a beer with Karen Page. It was obvious Katy was drooling over the dark haired gentleman with the red glasses and cane. His jawline was perfect, his hair practically begging to have fingers run through it, his body clearly well-built under that tight dress shirt with buttons tempted to pop when he moved just right, and he had an absolutely breathtaking smile.

"Isn't that Murdock from Nelson, Murdock, and Page?" Katy said after a moment, her eyes narrowing. "They're the guys who took down Fisk. Shit, he's hotter in person." When you didn't respond, Katy glanced back at you, eyebrows shooting up on her forehead. "Is your silence you disagreeing about that man’s perfection?"

You shook your head, your eyes landing back on the man. It almost seemed like he was looking at you and Katy at the bar, but considering he was blind, that would have been impossible.

"He's attractive, yeah," you agreed with a shrug. 

Katy's eyes widened at you. "Really? That's it? That guy looks like sex on legs and I'm pretty sure I've heard rumors that he is amazing in bed and…that’s all you’ve got?"

"Your point?" you asked.

"Are you serious right now?" she asked in disbelief. "You wouldn't want a night with that guy?"

You let out a heavy breath, your eyes returning to the now empty bottle of beer as you debated on another or just going home and making dinner and writing that pointless article for Ellison.

"I wouldn’t know what to even say to a guy like that," you muttered. "You know outside of interviews I am shit with human interaction."

Katy chuckled lightly before shaking her head. "You do have a knack for being awkward. But you wouldn't need to say anything, just let him fuck you senseless as you're screaming his name on your back." 

Katy abruptly threw out some light, breathy fake moans that had you slapping her arm sharply and your face burning up. 

"Pretty sure you could handle that ," she teased you with a light laugh. 

"You're a fucking animal," you joked, burying your reddening face in your hands.

"You're thinking about it though," she shot back. 

You glanced at the man between your fingers, face still buried in your hands. He was holding a beer in one hand as something that looked like a smirk broke across his face. He was standing by the pool table, his gaze in your direction as his friends focused on the game they were playing. Your heart sped up at the thought of him throwing you onto your bed and you swore you saw his lips pull up even higher before you turned away. 

"Would literally never happen," you mumbled. "Guys who look like that don't talk to chicks like me." 

"Sexy and awkward?" Katy supplied. 

You snorted, rolling your eyes. "Only one of those is an accurate description," you replied. "Anyway, I should probably get back. Make dinner and slam my head into the wall repeatedly as I write that piece for the next issue."

"Or you could stay and see if you're awkward enough to scare away Hell’s Kitchen’s sexiest lawyer," Katy suggested with a playful grin. "Maybe end up finding God on your back."

She opened her mouth and got out one moan before you kicked her shin. 

She laughed, waving a hand at you. "Alright, fine. Let me chug this and I'll leave, too. I've got a lead I need to check out tonight anyway."

You watched her raise the beer to her lips and toss it back, downing the last half of the bottle before slamming it to the counter. You slid off the bar stool and turned to leave only to run head first into someone. You stumbled backwards muttering out an 'oh shit' as your back hit the bar counter, and then your eyes went wide when you saw it was the attractive lawyer you and Katy had just been talking about.

"Shit, sorry, I didn't see you there," you blurted out an apology. 

"Neither did I," he answered, a grin spreading across his mouth. 

"Right, because you're…" you trailed off quickly realizing how rude it would be to point out his disability. 

Katy appeared just beside him, her eyes going wide as she gawked at you, shaking her head sharply. 

"Blind?" the man finished for you. 

Your cheeks burned as you awkwardly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. He was somehow even more attractive up close and he had a nice, deep voice. For a moment you couldn't help but imagine him on top of you in your bed again and your heart stuttered in your chest.

"And I'm tactless," you breathed out. "Sorry, I didn't mean to literally run into you and then be completely rude. I'm just going to go," you said quickly, trying to skirt around him.

"Or you could buy her a drink," Katy blurted.

Your eyes widened as you stared open-mouthed at her, entirely taken aback. Katy shot you a look, shrugging a shoulder. The man chuckled, the sound drawing your attention back to him beside you. He was grinning in your direction and you internally groaned.

"You want me to buy your friend a drink?" he asked curiously.

Your eyes narrowed to a glare at Katy as you quickly answered him. "She's kidding," you told him. "You know, just a bad joke ," you said, the last two words coming out at Katy between gritted teeth. 

"Well," the man mused, "I may not be opposed to the idea."

Your palms immediately began to sweat as Katy sent you a wicked grin. Your heart was thundering wildly in your chest as you chanced a glance back at him. He looked entirely calm and collected as he stood there with a charming smile on his face.

“That’s uh, that’s nice and all, but I actually have work to finish tonight–”

“No you don’t,” Katy cut in sharply, eyes narrowed. “You could write that article in thirty minutes with your hands tied behind your back using only your tongue. You don’t have work.”

The man whose first name you were still unaware of chuckled good-naturedly beside you at Katy’s words. “I have absolutely no idea what she’s talking about, but that sounds like quite the talent you have,” he teased.

Katy snickered loudly as you audibly groaned, shrinking back into yourself. This was easily the most humiliated you had felt in a long time. 

She turned towards the man next and pointedly told him, “She had a bad day, she’d love another drink.” And then her attention returned to you, a sly grin on her face as she said, “Now I actually have a lead to follow up with. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.” She proceeded to mouth ‘you’re welcome’ before she turned and left.

You were torn between trying to chase after her and feeling obligated to converse with this insanely attractive man who was for some reason giving you the time of day. You were tightly gripping the strap of your crossbody bag with indecision as you stood there uncomfortably. Thankfully he spoke and broke the awkward tension.

“Would you like another drink?” he asked, gesturing towards the bar beside you both. “You could maybe tell me your name?” he suggested. “And why you’re having such a bad Monday?”

“Look,” you began, “you really don’t have to. She was just being a pain in my ass thinking that she was–” You stopped short. You couldn’t exactly finish that thought and tell him she was trying to help you talk to him because you obviously thought he was attractive and you would never approach him on your own. That would have been even more embarrassing. “I just–you’re clearly here with your friends and I don’t want to pull you away,” you quickly shot out instead.

His dark brows rose up behind his glasses, a slight amused grin forming on his lips. “Oh? You were paying attention to who I was with before you even ran into me?”

Wincing, you wished a bus would just barrel through the bar and hit you, putting you out of your misery and ending this embarrassing conversation. How the fuck were you even supposed to deny that?

So you decided to do what you always did when things got too uncomfortable–run.

“You know what, I really do need to go,” you said, quickly turning and stepping away.

“Wait,” he called out.

And you did. For some unknown reason you actually paused, back still towards him. You could see his two friends at the pool table still enraptured in their game, currently either unaware or uninterested in the fact that he wasn’t back with them.

“Okay, I really am blind, so you’re going to have to actually, you know, acknowledge that you’re still here so I know I’m not just talking to myself right now,” he said.

You cleared your throat nervously, your eyes dropping to your scuffed up dress flats. “Wouldn’t exactly be too out of place in a bar, at least,” you muttered.

He laughed lightly, the sound causing you to glance back at him over your shoulder. He was smiling and the sight nearly gutted you. You wished he’d take off the glasses so you could see the entirety of his face–his eyes were probably as beautiful as the rest of him.

He slid onto the bar stool beside the one you’d just been on, folding up his cane as he patted the seat beside him. “Please, sit. Let me get you a drink,” he offered again.

The words flew out of your mouth before you could stop them. “Why, are you just that curious how far I can shove my foot into my mouth?”

Your mouth immediately clamped shut, one of your hands flying up to cover it as your eyes grew wide in horror at how your sarcastic comment actually came across. His eyebrows once again flew all the way up to his forehead, his lip twitching up at the corner in amusement. 

“Another one of your curious talents?” he asked with a slight laugh.

“Fucking hell,” you groaned, taking a step back. “This is the most embarrassed I’ve probably felt in years,” you blurted. “Which is saying something because I have a tendency to make things incredibly awkward and uncomfortable and I should just really go home now.”

He was fighting the grin on his face as he shook his head. “No, please, don’t be embarrassed. This conversation has honestly been the highlight of my day.”

“I’m glad my mortification brings you joy,” you said flatly, taking another step back, “but I’m pretty sure I’m teetering on the edge of being the first person to actually die of embarrassment. So I should probably really go now.”

“I’m Matthew,” he said, extending his hand out towards you. “Usually I just go by Matt.”

Your eyes dropped down to his extended hand, staring in silent confusion at it. Why the fuck was he offering his hand and introducing himself to you?

He cleared his throat, hand still outstretched. “I know you said you’re a bit awkward and all, so I’ll let you know this is usually the part where you shake my hand and introduce yourself, too.”

“I–” you began, hesitating as you continued eyeing his outstretched hand. “I just told you like five times that I should go…”

“I know, I’m blind, not deaf,” Matt said, grin still intact, causing you to flush further. “But yet you’re still standing here instead of actually leaving. So,” he continued, extending his hand out further towards you, “my name is Matt, and you are?”

“Dying of embarrassment,” you muttered, unable to resist the slight smile on your mouth when he chuckled again. 

And then you caved and against your better judgment you shook his hand, offering him your name as you sat on the bar stool beside him. 

“That’s a pretty name,” he told you.

“And that sounds like a line,” you quipped back.

He raised a single brow at you this time, the corner of his mouth quirking up. You watched as the bartender made her way over towards the pair of you, the surly expression on her face morphing into a large smile when she saw Matt.

“What can I get you, Murdock?” she asked.

Matt turned towards the woman, a charming smile on his face as he said, “Just another beer, Josie, and whatever this lovely lady is having.” His head tilted towards you and Josie’s eyes followed curiously.

“Uh, just a beer, thanks,” you muttered awkwardly.

She nodded, lightly tapping a hand to the counter before sauntering off to grab two beers. You took a moment to take a deep breath, not entirely sure what to make of the evening so far. Normally you’d have scared someone off by now, making them entirely too uncomfortable to try to endure conversation. But not Matt. He was still sitting beside you, clearly relaxed and comfortable.

“So why’re you having a bad day?” he asked.

You glanced over at him. He was studying you, head tilted to the side and one arm resting along the bar counter, the cane folded up on the surface beside him. With the way he was turned towards you in the bar stool, and you towards him, your knees were almost brushing.

“Just a bad day at work,” you mumbled. 

“Where do you work?” he asked curiously.

“The Bulletin,” you told him.

He appeared to perk up instantly, sitting up straighter in his chair as his head shifted further to the side. “You’re a journalist?”

“Uh, yeah,” you answered. “Or at least, I try to be when my boss isn’t throwing fluff pieces at me instead of letting me chase real stories.”

You briefly noticed the thinning of his lips at your words before Josie’s return with two beers caught your attention. You thanked her with a smile, surprised when she returned one, and watched as she disappeared. You took a deep drink from the beer, definitely feeling like you needed it to survive in Matt’s presence. When you set the beer back on the bar, your right hand absently playing with the condensation on the bottle, you turned your attention back to Matt and noticed the slight frown on his mouth.

“So you’re…chasing a dangerous story and your boss doesn’t want you to?” he asked curiously.

“Yeah,” you answered simply.

“Maybe you should listen to him,” Matt suggested.

Your eyes narrowed at him. “And what, write about the upcoming adoption event at the animal shelter forever?” You shook your head. “No, that’s not what I signed up for with this career. Your friend over there is Karen Page, right? She was the same way when she worked at The Bulletin, too.”

“Yeah, and you see how she no longer chases after the dangerous stories for a newspaper anymore, right?” he replied, his tone more serious than it had been.

“I’m sorry but, I just met you literally minutes ago and now you’re trying to dictate what I should be doing?” you asked skeptically.

Matt abruptly shook his head, his charming smile returning. “You know what? You’re right. I just remember Karen having some terrible situations arise because she was chasing a story. I shouldn’t project that onto you. I apologize.”

You continued to study him curiously as you raised your beer to your lips, taking a drink. You swallowed, voicing your thought aloud as you asked, “Why’d you want to have a drink with me so badly?”

“I liked the sound of your voice,” he answered easily. “You sounded nice and I thought I’d like to continue hearing you talk for a bit more tonight.”

You snorted loudly, shaking your head. “Okay, now that is a terrible line,” you said.

“Says the woman who wanted to show me how far she could shove her foot into her mouth before she even knew my name,” he countered.

You blushed furiously, shaking your head with a grin. “No, I said you wanted to see that, not that I wanted to show you,” you shot back.

“Well,” Matt said with a shrug of his shoulders as he brought his beer to his lips, “I’m blind anyway so I couldn’t actually see it one way or another.”

“How many blind jokes are you going to make tonight?” you asked him.

He grinned smoothly back at you, swallowing down his beer. “As many as you continue to easily drop into my lap,” he answered.

You laughed, your eyes darting to the beer beside you. Matt’s knee nudged yours and you glanced back at him.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asked softly.

You shrugged a shoulder, eyeing the beer again. “I can’t decide if I’m regretting staying for this drink or not yet."

"Oh, ouch," he said, feigning hurt. 

You laughed, rolling your eyes. "I mean I’m still debating whether or not you laughing at my intense embarrassment has been worth it or not yet for the current conversation."

"Uh huh," he replied. "So where are you landing with that? On a scale of one to ten?"

You pulled a face, head tilting to the side. "How would I even rate that on a scale?" you asked him curiously. 

"Well, one would be 'Oh shit I'll just stop talking and slip away since he can't see me’–'"

"Jeez, has that happened to you before?" you asked, cutting him off.

He shook his head, bringing his beer to his lips again as he answered. "No, but I get the feeling you might."

Your face reddened further as you watched him take a drink, eyes lingering on the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed. "No," you corrected, "I'd at least blurt out something weird and then sprint out of the room. You'd at least have some warning."

"Oh, well I appreciate that at least," he teased. "But really, scale of one to ten how much are you regretting staying for the drink?" 

You eyed him, bringing the bottle to your lips and thinking over your answer for a moment as you studied him and took a drink. He was charming, that was obvious, and he didn't seem even remotely put off or like he was struggling with conversation no matter how awkward you'd been so far. In fact, you'd go so far as to say that you were surprisingly having fun.

"Okay I'm pretty sure you just told me you'd at least blurt something awkward before you disappeared on me," Matt joked.

You grinned, unable to help it. "A seven," you answered. 

His eyebrows shot up onto his forehead again, an amused smile still on his lips. "A seven isn't bad but I was hoping for higher," he mused. "Why so low?"

"You could do with some better jokes and your lines are terrible," you told him.

"Duly noted," he answered quickly. 

"So what about you?" you asked somewhat nervously. "On a scale of one to ten, how much do you regret asking me to stay for this drink?"

You anxiously took a sip of your beer while he cocked his head to the side as if he was in thought for a moment. 

"An eight," he answered. "But only because I'm still waiting to find out how far you can shove your foot in your mouth."

You choked on the beer you were drinking, coughing lightly as Matt laughed and asked if you were alright. It was a moment before you recovered but his next question had you reeling again.

"You want to stay longer than that one drink? Meet my friends?" he asked when you'd recovered. 

Your cheeks flushed as you bit your lip, taking only a few seconds to think over your answer. "Yeah, sure," you said. "I've got time."

"Considering your friend said you could write your article in a half hour with your hands tied behind your back using only your tongue," he mused, "I imagine you do. You need any help with the restraints for that, by the way?"

You threw your face in your hands, groaning loudly as Matt let out another bark of laughter beside you. "I cannot believe you just said that," you mumbled.

"Really?" he asked curiously. "In the probably fifteen minutes you've been conversing with me you really can't believe I would say that?"

You began to laugh behind your own hands, turning your face to peek at him through your fingers. He was smiling wide, perfect teeth exposed, as he gazed in your direction. 

"Okay, yeah, maybe I can," you answered. 

"But you seem a little more relaxed now," he pointed out. 

He was right, too. Somehow after all the awkward tension and comments you'd found him funny and a little disarming. And he still hadn't run off, instead he seemed like he was also enjoying your company and he clearly didn't want you to leave yet. Which you certainly hadn't expected.

"Yes, maybe marginally less embarrassed," you agreed.

"Good," he responded. He slid off the bar stool, knees briefly grazing yours before he grabbed his cane and began to unfold it. "So, would you like to meet my friends? Stay a bit longer?"

You smiled, shrugging a shoulder. "Sure, let's give my anxiety a bigger audience," you joked, sliding off of your bar stool. 

"I have a feeling they're going to like you, too," he assured you.

You smiled nervously, feeling your palms sweating a bit again and trying to discreetly wipe them against your dress pants as he led you towards the pool table. He'd just said he liked you and you felt yourself becoming a bundle of nerves all over again.

But he couldn't possibly have meant it like that , right?

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x fem reader #matt murdock fic #matt murdock series #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil x female reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock #matthew murdock x reader #fftd #falling for the devil

[fuck-customers]

Ok hi hello, how the FUCK are we supposed to reach the "goal" if we're literally not told what the fucking goal is? And wtf is this passive-aggressive bullshit?

So my work has one of those phone number scams where they make us bully customers into giving us their phone number to have in our computer system that does not benefit the customers in any way. No rewards. No discounts. Nothing.

SO I had assumed that the register system automatically kept track of how many signups we were getting and all that shit. Literally what's the point if it's not? I still don't know. All I know is last week, one of the managers said "we're going to start keeping track of signups again" and I was like you weren't doing that the whole time?? Why the fuck did I bother doing the stupid ass signups for all that time then?

ANYWAY

The point of today's story is this:

I go into the breakroom at work and there's a printout of all of us employees and our phone number percentages. (employee numbers only, at least we weren't 100% put on blast, but it wouldn't be that difficult to narrow down which number was whose) with the employees who were under a certain percentage highlighted with a passive-aggressive note written that these employees need to reach "the goal."

1. WHAT fucking goal? Nowhere on this stupid public shaming attempt does it have any indication what the goal is that were supposedly working towards. Are we trying to reach 50% signups? 60%? 70%? Fuck if I know.

2. Even if there WAS a numbered goal, there's no way for the cashiers to know if they're hitting the goal or not until the week's results have been printed out and posted, which it appears management intends on doing. It's not like the registers have a little percentage in the corner so we can keep track of our own progress. Literally only management has access. So we have to blindly hope that we're reaching this unspecified goal.

3. There was absolutely no reason whatsoever to post that information to shame us. None of us were informed that we were supposed to be working towards any goal at all.

And 4. Ok so let's say we reach this mystery goal....and? What? What is that going to do for us? Or we don't reach the goal? And? So what? Management has lied in the past about if our numbers go up, so will our hours and that was a fucking lie.

I cannot stress enough just how useless the phone number thing is. It is not a store credit card signup where customers have to get approved or anything like that. The customer gets absolutely nothing out of providing their personal information. If they want coupons or discounts or rewards, they have to download the store app onto their phone. We cannot access any rewards or discounts on the register. At first, managers tried to lie to customers to say that if they provided their phone number, they could do returns without a receipt.

Except...you can do a return without a receipt no matter what. It's the exact same process/policy for every single customer. Whether or not they provide their phone number, every single customer doing a return without a receipt will automatically get the lowest price for those items in the last 90 days back. Period. There's not even a way to pull up old transactions from a customer's phone number if they lost their receipt. It is 100% useless. I personally suspect there's something shady going on and the company is selling customer's personal information or tracking their spending habits for advertising or something sketchy.

So anyway, someone who definitely was not me wrote a note back telling them to tell us what the goal was or else we cannot reach it.

If you decide you want to fudge the numbers a bit here are some random numbers to use.

Buena Vista Water Sports 407-239-6939 Sky Venture 407-903-1150 Orange Blossom Balloons 407-239-7677 Kennedy Space Center 407-522-5911 Silver Springs 352-236-2121 Cypress Gardens 1-863-324-2111 Fun Spot 407-363-3867 Gator Land 1-800-393-jaws or 407-855-5496 Green Meadows Petting Farm 407-846-0770 Holy Land Experience 1-866-872-4659 or 407-872-2272 Orlando Science Center 407-514-2000 WonderWorks 407-351-8800 Ripley’s Believe it or Not 407-345-0501 Boggy Creek Airboats 407-344-9550 Orlando Museum of Art 407-896-4231 Central Florida Zoo 407-323-4450 Leu Gardens 407-246-2620 Old Town 407-383-6126 Daytona USA 1-386-947-6530 Wekiwa Springs State Park 407-884-2008 Richard Petty Driving Experience 1-800.BE.PETTY Jungleland Zoo 407-396-1012 US Astronaut Hall of Fame 1-321-269-6100 Magical Midway 407-370-5353 Citrus Tower 1-863-324-2111 Sky Coaster 407-397-2509 Scenic Boat Tour of Winter Park 407-644-4056 Orlando Helitours 407-397-0226 Star Flyer (located at magical midway) 407-383-6124 Dotties Orlando Comedy Theatre 407-226-3680 192 Flea Market 407-396-4555 Visitors Flea Market 407-396-0114 Maingate Flea Market 407-390-1015 Medieval Times Dinner Show 407-396-1518 or 1-888-WE JOUST Pirates Dinner Adventure 407-248-0590 or 1-800-866-2469 Sleuths Mystery Dinner Show 407-363-1985 or 1-800-393-1985 Capone’s Dinner Show 407-397-2378 or 1-800-220-8428 Arabian Nights 407-239-9223 Walt Disney World Resort 1-800-W-Disney or 407-824-2222 Hoop Dee Doo Review 407-WDW-DINE Wide World of Sports [phone] Disney’s Polynesian Luau 407-WDW-DINE Sea World 1-800-327-2424 or 407-351-3600 Discovery Cove 1-800-327-2424 or 407-351-3600 Universal Orlando Resort 407-363-8000