#there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

#every time someones like ''AI will replace u" im like. u will have to fucking KILL ME #there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing #and the writing is what i need to be doing #writeblr #this probably doesn't make sense bc its sooo frustrating i rarely speak it the way i want to #edited for the typo wrote it and then was late to a meeting lol #i love u people who mention my typos genuinely bc i don't always catch them!!!! :) it is doing me a genuine favor!!! #my friend says i should tell you ''thank you beta editors'' but i don't know what that means #i made her promise it isn't a wolf fanfiction thing. so if it IS a wolf thing she is DEAD to me (just kidding i love her) #hey PS PS PS ??? if ur reading this thinking what it's saying is ''i am financially capable of losing this'' ur reading it wrong #i write for free. i always have. i have worked 5-7 jobs at once to make ends meet. #i did not grow up with access or money. i did not grow up with connections or like some kind of excuse #i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!! #i do not write for money!!!! i write because i fuckken NEED TO #i could be in the fucking desert i could be in the fuckken tundra i could be in total darkness #and i would still be writing pretentious angsty poetry about it #im not in any way saying it's a good thing. i'm not in any way implying that they're NOT tryna kill us #i'm saying. you could take away our jobs and we could go hungry and we could suffer #and from that suffering (if i know us) we'd still fuckin make art. #i would LOVE to be able to make money doing this! i never have been able to. but i don't NEED to. i will find a way to make my life work #even if it means being miserable #but i will not give up this thing. for the whole world.

[quiltedgold]

reader being saul's temporary secretary or assistant? and he's obviously got the hots for reader, but they tend to zay he's got to try better than that. that changes when he's drunk in his office after a long day, both of them Ray to get home, and when he tells reader to start closing up shop and they tell him yes sir, he calls them a good girl (which he doesn't realize goes straight to their crotch c: )

i went a little taxi gone wild with the drunk thing, hope you don't mind! i am such a sucker for intoxicated hookup fics, literally whenever i'm drunk i'm thinking "man if only saul goodman were here i would hop on him so quick😔" this one also features a cheeky reader who very much knows what they're doing to excite Saul but gets a kick out of denying him lol. thank you very much for the request dear anon, i hope you enjoy <3

Closing Time - Saul Goodman x reader

wc - 1.3k

warnings - smut, sleazeball saul bc duh, they/them prns for reader, fembodied reader, alcohol, boss x secretary

When Francesca took two weeks’ leave on account of her fractured kneecap, Saul worried at the thought of having to find a replacement on such short notice. Then, like an angel sent from heaven, you arrived at the door that very same morning, inquiring about a secretarial position. He hired you on the spot, thanking his lucky stars for small miracles. It didn’t hurt that you were a nice piece of eye candy, absolutely stunning in business casual and sporting a sweet smile and “innocent” look. 

However, Saul quickly realized you weren’t as naive as you looked. One afternoon he dropped a pen in your path, hoping you would bend over to pick it up and put your ass on display for him. Instead, you looked at the pen, then back to Saul with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re going to have to try better than that, Mr. Goodman,” you tittered before striding out of his office. 

He picked up the pen himself, face burning. Rats. Of course you weren’t going to be that easy, he’d been blinded by his first impression of you–the sweet, unassuming young secretary, shocked that an older man would show interest in them. He would just have to go about his pursuit in a different way. 

This didn’t stop him from eyeing you. Some days you showed up in short skirts or especially tight tops, teasing him with peeks of your cleavage or slivers of your smooth upper thigh when you crossed your legs as you took notes during client meetings. 

Whenever he tried anything, no matter how innocuous–inviting you to join him for your lunch break or inviting you back to his place at the day’s end–you responded the same as before: You’ll have to try harder than that, Mr. Goodman. 

And he could tell you were dragging him along, playing with his affections like a cat bats at a ball of yarn–you often bit at the cap of your pen while looking him right in the eye through hooded lids, or stretched your arms when you knew he was watching, buttons pulling taught against your chest. Sometimes you noticed him adjusting his pants after an especially flirtation-packed encounter, which you’d acknowledge with a little giggle and a toss of your hair. 

It drove him crazy. 

After one especially long day filled with interactions with some of his more unpredictable clients, Saul sought refuge in his office and knocked back a few glasses of scotch, relishing the loosening of his tense shoulders. 

“Sweetheart, would you come in here?” he called, tugging at the knot of his tie.

You appeared in the doorway, hands on your hips. It was obvious he’d been drinking, and his lips always got looser under the influence. Not that you minded the nickname, but you could at least put on an air of righteous indignation. “Yes, Mr. Goodman?”

“You can start closing up shop–thanks, darlin’. Good work today.”

“Yes, sir,” you turned to leave, just catching his reply.

“Good girl.” 

It was offhanded, you could tell he wasn’t really thinking about the words he’d just said as he took another noisy sip of his drink.

But you stopped in your tracks. The simple phrase sent a flood of warmth to your core. Had he really not said that to you before? Clearly not, based on your body’s reaction. 

“What are you waiting for? You want a drink or something?” Saul asked jokingly, expecting silence or your usual rebuttal. This was just another one of his propositions.

Yet… 

You turned back around and strode towards his desk. “Yes,” you said decidedly. “I would.”

His eyes widened, but he sat forward and grabbed a glass for you, tipping the decanter. “Lucky me, I get my secretary as a drinking partner. Say when.”

You waited until the glass was three-quarters full. “When.” Then you plucked the glass from the table and downed it, wincing a bit at the malty flavor. Hell, up until now you’d only known the cheap liquor of college parties and family holidays. But, the liquid quickly warmed your stomach, sending a wave of relaxation to the very tips of your extremities. You leaned over the table, waving the empty glass slowly in his direction.

Saul chuckled. “Woah there, champ, no one’s timing you. Here–” he gestured for your glass, which you gave and he filled back up. 

Instead of accepting the offered cup, you strode over to his side of the desk. 

“You know,” you began. “I really shouldn’t be drinking on the job. And especially not with my boss.”

Now closer, you could see his lined face begin to flush. The alcohol’s influence, of course, but also your body’s proximity. Not a coincidence that you’d worn the shortest shirt and tightest shirt that you could get away with today. 

“Believe me, I’m not tattling,” Saul said, putting his hands up in a “you got me” gesture, but his eyes were fixed directly on your chest.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not accusing you of anything,” you hummed, tapping at the arm of his chair. “But still. Maybe it’d be better if I have a story in case someone asks me about it.” 

Emboldened by the alcohol now coursing through your system, you lowered yourself onto his lap, one heeled foot keeping yourself grounded. You swore you could see the stars exploding in his eyes; you knew this was what he’d wanted since day one. 

You put a saccharine voice on, thickening it with innocence. “Oh, but I swear, I didn’t want to drink it. He practically poured it down my throat,” you purred, placing a hand on his chest. 

“So that’s your angle? Sleazy boss got you drunk to cop a feel?” Saul asked, eyes darkening, but now he brought the glass to your lips, which you parted immediately. “He sounds like a real piece of work.” 

You smirk. “He is.” 

Saul tipped the glass’ contents into your mouth, scotch splashing across your tongue and down your throat as you swallowed as much as you could, the excess bubbling over your lips and soaking the front of your shirt. His other hand held your jaw in place, fingers a little too rough against the soft of your cheek. 

As he withdrew the glass, you made a big show of licking your lips to catch the leftover drops, then captured your bottom lip between your teeth, waiting for him to make the next move. 

Saul patted your cheek, the warm metal of his ring knocking against bone. 

“Good girl,” he said lowly. His hand slid up the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. His thick fingers knotted in your hair, tugging ever so gently. 

“Thank you, sir,” you replied with a sharp intake of breath at the tug. 

Upon hearing the title, he let out a groan and pulled you towards him, mouths meeting messily. The taste of malt liquor mingled on both of your lips as you panted into each other, high pitched keening from you and small whines from the back of his throat. 

His other hand snaked down to grasp at your ass, collecting a generous handful and using it to hoist you closer to his body, his hips jerking up to roll against your thigh as the kiss deepened. 

“You’ve been–killing me–all, hah, all week,” Saul moaned through the kiss. “Your fuckin’--your body, the looks you give me, the–the goddamn pen biting.”

You laughed, which turned into a whimper as he worked a hand under your bra. “I told you–you were gonna have to try harder.”

“Well, Jesus, shit–If I’d known all that meant was getting drunk and–callin’ ya a good girl, hell–” he groaned as you ran a hand down his stomach and palmed his erection– “I woulda done it way sooner.” 

You kissed him again to get him to stop talking–he was cute, but more so when he knew when to shut up. All you really wanted to hear at the moment were his overwhelmed whines as you worked at his cock.

You had, what, one more week here? You’d already wasted the first with petty flirts and pretend prudence–you hoped Saul was okay with you rescheduling his meetings, because you were going to use the rest of your employment wisely.

#saul goodman x y/n #better call saul fanfic #saul goodman #saul goodman x reader #jimmy mcgill x reader #jimmy mcgill #better call saul

[dolliecworpse]

Aaaa I just discovered this blog and it's really interesting! I don't know too much about xenogenders/neopronouns since they kind of get me very overwhelmed due to my need to Absolutely understand everything and categorize/label stuff when I'm in a community (ex: fandoms, archetypes, tropes) so this might be a dumb question but.. what exactly are titles and what are they used for? And how should someone go about when making a gender-system? I'm asking because I plan on making one for a story and don't really know how to go about it.. anyways, so sorry for this dumb ask! I hope you're well and have a amazing day or night!!! Keep up the great work!!

there are no dumb questions here!! i’ll put the two explanations under the cut since it’z kinda long. sorri abt that! the gender systems i mention have alreadi been created, and i’ve linked them where i mention them if you wanna check them out!!

okk so titles are basicalli a name that describes someone or a certain aspect of them. does that make sense? it’s kinda like a name or pronouns in that they can give someone euphoria and they’re a way of describing a person. like a realli simple one that’z used outside the mogai communiti bc it’s an actual like position would be the prince!! more creative titles that aren’t used in day-to-day life might be “the creator of the heavens” or “(pronoun) who creates life.” these are more creative and descriptive than just a “job” title (i put in quotes bc i’m not sure if being a prince is considered a job LOL. but a more job-like one would be the baker). but yeah, they’re p much used as one would use a name or a pronoun, which is to address people.

as for gender systems, there are a few things that are considered sort of…gender system etiquette, shall we say?

1) think of the concept you want to convey. do you want a gender system where one’s gender is decorated with smth (genderdecorated)? or maybe one where one’s gender is related to certain fonts (genderfont)? then take that idea and turn it into a single word. most gender systems don’t have commonli seen gender endings like -ic or -gender, but just the word. am i making ani sense? i hope so 😅

2) take that word and put gender in front of it!! like with genderdecorated and genderfont. people will replace the word gender with the concept (or with genderfont it’z the font name) name of their choosing. like for example, if they want to coin a gender under the genderdecorated gender system where one’s gender is decorated in cuteness, it would be known as cutedecorated.

3) before we go ani further, check to see if the gender system alreadi exists!!!! look up gender_ in the tumblr search bar, and if nothing comes up, you’re probabli good to go!!

4) the next step is creating the flag template. try to make a unique flag template outside of just straight stripes, if possible. if you’re not sure how to do that, check out this quick tutorial here. if you have ani questions regarding this step, feel free to send in another ask!! below is the greyscale color palette i use for my templates. ik it looks boring, but people will use the template as a base and recolor it! this is commonli done w the bucket tool, but there’s probabli other methods. aniways, here’s the palette. simpli put an image layer into your canvas with this as an image and sample out the colors so that you can use them in your flag!!

ignore the colors above and below the greyscale line, i could onli crop it sm </3 keep in mind that you don’t need to use all of these colors in your template!!! they’re just there if you need them.

5) craft the definition, adding in blanks for people to fill in with the concept they want. for more info on what i mean, check out the coining posts to the gender systems i’ve mentioned above (dw, they’re linked!!) or check out any of my gender system coining posts, which can all be found linked in the pinned post of @bloodygendersystems !! sorri that i’m not great at explaining this part. it’z probabli just best to look at examples.

6) this part is optional, but it’z helpful for people who may want to coin under your gender system. upload your flag template(s) to deviantart!! when saving flag templates straight from tumblr, they get a bit blurri, making them harder to recolor. if this has ever happened to anibodi reading this, dw!! i got you. upload the flag you’ve saved from tumblr to this upscaler website, click the highest upscale option available to you, fill out the captcha, click download, and voilà! it should be readi for you to recolor!! ik the website name is kinda weird, but it’z upscale power is unmatched. i’ve also seen other people use it without issue so it should be good!!! i think it’z also an app, but i’ve onli ever used the website.

7) post your gender system!! if you plan on coining ani genders under your gender system, add the names of them into the post so people know not to coin those ones!! you could say smth like “planning to coin x, y, and z, so please don’t coin those unless i get overwhelmed and say you can.” some people might reblog with genders they’re going to coin as well, so make a mental note not to coin those ones.

i think that’z everithing? lmk if i’m forgetting ani important steps 😅

#— ˗ˋ ୨ talking with chu ୧ ˊ˗ — #tutorial

[aro-aizawa]

whumptober 2022!

okay im gonna try and get a headstart on writing for whumptober this year because i am determined to get further than filling 5 prompts bc if i can pass that goal then i’ll be in a better shape to keep the momentum going and do even better next year. THAT BEING SAID i v much would love to continue in the same manner and take requests. so! here are the fandom’s i’ll be writing for this year, and the characters i gravitate towards:

batfam (i have almost zero canon info outside of all the movies and whatever i read in fanfics but i love the family dynamics sm, and this is my current hyperfixation so prompts are v much more likely to be filled): - tim drake

miraculous ladybug - marinette dupain-cheng

danny phantom - danny fenton

avatar the last airbender - zuko

fullmetal alchemist - edward elric

my hero academia (maybe - my mha fixation is like the furthest orbit rn so no clue if it’ll come around before the end of october but if the prompt is good who knows - midoriya izuku

you’re allowed to request as many times as you like! however, sometimes i just won’t have any inspo from the request so it might not make the cut, sorry! i’m also pre-emptively replacing some prompts and blacking others out so i don’t have to write anything that makes me feel icky or just isn’t my jam, or so i can write prompts that are v much my jam. so here’s the prompt list!

1. a little out of the ordinary - stabbed / marinette ✔  [ao3]

adverse effects | alt: stabbed | "this wasn't supposed to happen”

2. nowhere to run - caged / izuku ✔  [ao3]

cornered | caged | confrontation

3. hair’s breadth from death - gun to temple / edward ✔

gun to temple | “say goodbye” | impaled

4. dead on your feet - hidden injury / marinette || can’t pass out / marinette

hidden injury | waking up disorientated | can’t pass out

5. every whumpee’s needs - hyperthermia / tim

blood loss | running out of air | hyperthermia

6. proof of life

ransom video | “i’ve got a pulse” | screams from across the hall

7. the way you shake and shiver

shaking hands | seizures | silent panic attack

8. everything hurts and i’m dying - stomach pain / tim

stomach pain | head trauma | back from the dead

9. the very noisy night

sleeping in shifts | tossing and turning | caught in a storm

10. poor unfortunate souls - waterboarding / zuko

taser | whipping | waterboarding

11. “911, what’s your emergency?”

sloppy bandages | self-done first aid | makeshift splint

12. what could go wrong?

alt: ambushed | cave in | rusty nail

13. can’t make an omlette without breaking a few legs

fracture | dislocation | “are you here to break me out?”

14. die a hero or live long enough to become a villain

desperate measures | failed escape | “i’ll be right behind you”

15. emotional damage

lies | new scars | alt: touch starved

16. no way out

mind control | paralytic drugs | “no one’s coming”

17. hanging by a threat

breaking point | stress positions | reluctant caretaker

18. let’s break the ice

“just get it over with” | treading water | “take my coat”

19. enough is enough - knees buckling or repeatedly passing out / danny

knees buckling | repeatedly passing out | head lolling

20. it’s been a long day

going into shock | fetal position | prisoner trade

21. famous last words

coughing up blood | “you’re safe now” | take me instead”

22. pick your poison

toxic | withdrawal | allergic reaction

23. at the end of their rope

forced to kneel | tied to a table | “hold them down”

24. fight, flight or freeze - blood covered hands / marinette

blood covered hands | “i don’t want to do this anymore” | catatonic

25. silence is golden

lost voice | duct tape | “you better start talking”

26. no one left behind

separated | rope burns | “why did you save me?”

27. pushed to the limit

muffled screams | stumbling | magical exhaustion

28. it’s just the tip of the iceberg - sensory overload / edward

alt: sensory overload | punching the wall | headache

29. what doesn’t kill me...

sleep deprivation | defiance | “better me than you”

30. note to self: don’t get kidnapped

manhandled | hair grabbing | “please don’t touch me”

31. a light at the end of the tunnel

comfort | beside vigil | “you can rest now”

#whumptober 2022 #PLEASE i need to get back into the habit of writing #this always happens when my gaming fixations over take everything #and it doesn't help i've got a new fandom fixation too so i've been consuming all the fanfic on that i can lol #im gonna try and write as many prompts as i can before october starts to give myself a lot more of a buffer #i think last year i started only a few days before october #we're in august baby so i wanna get a headstart by a month

[yangrdn]

cough cough

pairing: peter parker x gn!reader, non-superhero AU

a/n: this is my entry for @worldoftom's lolbrosgetsicktoo challenge! i loved writing sick!peter, it was v v cute. also, whilst writing this i'm sick, also a cold and my throat hurt until three days a go for three weeks straight. writing this was basically me wanting to have a peter to look after me, so i put him in my position. feedback is really appreciated and i hope you enjoy reading this <3

ps: i put the prompt at the end bc i assumed it'd spoil a little of the story if i put it at the start. so if you want to know the prompt first, just scroll down.

summary: peter gets a sore throat.

w/c: 3.8k

warnings: mentions of vomiting, description of taking painkillers, sick and whiny peter

my m.list

request | my taglist

there are a lot of things peter’s good at. he nails every test that is thrown at him. if you asked him a question about physics, he’d give you the right answer right away. basically, peter’s smart. like, really smart. now, there’s always that one thing he is not smart enough for and needs your help for.

taking care of his body.

with that, he could get all the help possible, and would still fail. may already tried her best, telling him to zip his jacket when going out and it’s raining. or you’d tell him how he should’ve stayed at home instead of riding his bike to your apartment right after taking a shower. he had worn only a shirt and a pair of jeans, saying it was hot and that the sun was out.

you, on the other hand, were just pissed your boyfriend had risked getting sick again, because you know you’ll have to take care of him. not because may told you to, nope. peter just didn't let anyone come near him when sick, besides you. although it does make you question whether he does it because he wants you close, even when he feels like melting because of his fever, or that he wants you to get sick, too.

and now, here you are. walking to peter’s flat after may called you and informed you about your “over dramatic” boyfriend. he was asking for you the whole day, and wouldn't let her sit down for even a minute, she said to you on the phone after you agreed to come over. you feel bad for her. She was up everyday, working her ass off, only to come home to Peter complaining about his pain. Taking care of him so she could at least get a day off from a whining Peter was the least you can do right now.

You knock on the door twice and start taking off your shoes. It wasn’t raining, but you don’t want to enter the flat with dirty shoes and leave more work when you leave. May opens the door, a tired smile across her face and a relieved sigh leaving her lips when she notices it’s you standing there.

“Hi, May,” you smile at her and give her a side hug, already peeking behind her and seeing two empty boxes of tissues. You frown and pull back as you enter the room.

“He won’t shut up about his throat. His voice is nearly gone, so he won’t be able to talk that much,” she informs you and closes the door behind you as you make your way to Peter’s room. You nod and turn around.

“It’s okay, I’ll make sure he gets enough sleep anyways,” you tell her. May silently thanks you with two thumbs up as she walks slowly to her room, closing the door quietly.

You knock on Peter’s door softly, not wanting to barg in if he’s doing something or wake him up. When you get no response, you open the door and step in. The room is dark, the only light coming in from the sun shines shining through the blinds. On Peter’s desk, books are piled up and you assume those are all for his missing assignments. A pout forms on your lips as you realize he’ll need to do all his missing work for school once he feels better. You make a mental note to help him as you roll up the blinds, only enough to illuminate the room more. When your eyes cast on the brown haired boy laid on the bed, the pout is quickly replaced by a soft smile.

Peter’s laying on his bed, blanket draped over his body and only covering his hips and left leg, soft snores leaving his lips. He’s only wearing a pair of boxers, his chest glistening with sweat. Your eyes widen as you walk closer to him, placing your palm on his forehead. A quiet gasp leaves your lips once you feel how hot his forehead is. He stirs awake slowly, only moving his head away from your palm and whining. You try to stifle a laugh and make the thin blue blanket cover at least half his body. His eyes open, blinking rapidly as he adjusts to the new light.

“Ugh,” he groans and hides his face behind his hands. Peter’s head is spinning, his eyes only adding more pain when he opens them. You sit on the bed, making sure not to touch him and hand him the glass of water on his nightstand. After revealing his face, he sits up slowly and takes the glass. Drowning it in slow and painful gulps, Peter lets out a hiss after setting the glass back down on the nightstand.

Now that he’s fully awake, you take a second to examine his sick state. His cheeks are rosy, you can basically see that the poor boy is burning up. His head is leaned back against the cool wall and his eyes squeezed shut due to his headache.

“I’m in so fucking much pain,” he whines and opens one eye, squinting and looking at you. You sigh, taking note of the crack in his voice. May wasn’t lying when she said he had a hard time talking.

“May told me. Did you eat today?” He frowns and shuts his eyes again.

“No, I- I-,” he stops talking and coughs, hissing as he feels more pain in his throat. You take the water bottle next to him and quickly fill up the glass again, handing it to him. After another painful gulp, he continues.

“May made me soup, but I didn’t finish it,” he croaks out. You purse your lips and nod.

“You lay back down. I’ll get you some painkillers, make you tea and then come back here, ok?” He nods and opens his mouth.

“Ah, ah ah, no talking for you. I see the pain you’re in right now. I’d tell you I told you so when you came over, wet and only with a t-shirt, but then you’d start arguing.” With that, you leave his room and make sure to leave the door open behind you, enough to hear Peter in case he calls for you. You make your way to the open kitchen and take out the water heater, a bag of camomile tea from the cabinet and let the water boil. While it’s boiling, you search through the other cabinets for painkillers, until you find a packet of Ibuprofen. After checking and making sure it’s not past its expiration date and that Peter’s old enough to take it, you place it on the counter and take out a teacup, throwing the tea bag in and waiting for the water to end. After a minute, you slowly fill the cup, careful not to burn yourself. You take the painkillers, turn around and walk back to Peter, balancing the full tea cup in your left hand as you softly blow in it. It should be hot, but not too hot for Peter to burn himself when drinking.

You shove the door open with your foot and step in, placing the cup on Peter’s nightstand. He was already waiting for you, glass filled with water in hand and eyes narrowed at the door.

“Take these,” you whisper, handing him the painkillers and sitting on the side of his bed, only close enough for your thigh to be touching his hip. He plops a pill in his mouth, gulping it down and shaking his head.

“I can’t even swallow pills,” he groans. You lift your hand up, caressing the side of his face with your palm. A content sigh leaves his lips as you let your thumb gently caress his cheekbone. Pecking his lips softly, you ask.

“Do you want to sleep? I can close the blinds again and-” He shakes his head and takes your hand in his. “Can we watch a movie?” He whispers. You nod and help him move to the side on his bed. He takes the blanket with him, lifting it up and patting the empty side next to him.

You shake your head. “You’ll lay on me. I don’t want to put my whole body on you.”

“What,” A soft laugh escapes your lips. “I’m always the one laying on you. Let me take care of you,” Peter’s about to complain, but you’re already comfortably on the bed and patting your lap.

“Next time you-” You shush him, pulling the blanket over the two of you and grab the laptop sitting on his nightstand. He chooses a movie and places the laptop in front of you two.

“You’re lucky we have no school tomorrow. Else you’d be drowning in work,” you whisper into his hair. He sighs and glances at the pile of sheets and books on his desk.

“Already happening.” You giggle at his statement and turn your eyes back to the movie playing.

Midst watching the movie, Peter fell asleep on your lap and started snoring. A small smile displays on your face, watching your boyfriend lay comfortably with you and feel safe. You start running your hand through his hair as he stirs in his sleep, face squished against your stomach.

When he wakes up, he starts groaning and raising his head to look at you. You grin at him and peck his lips.

“Sleep good?” He shakes his head and lets it fall back on your stomach, nuzzling his nose against the fabric covering it and letting out a content sigh.

“I’m still in pain, but I guess it’ll get better later,” he says, his voice muffled. You nod and purse your lips, thinking.

“Wait, Peter.” He frowns at your worried tone and looks up at you again.

“Didn’t we buy those tickets for the concert tomorrow?” You nod to his desk. His head turns to the side you’re looking at, eyes widening and staring back at you.

“Shit, you’re right. Fuck I’m-” he starts and lowers his gaze to your lap,” I’m sorry we can’t go to the concert tomorrow because of me. I know how much you like-” You quickly shut him up by cupping his face in your hands, pouting and shaking your head.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, babe. You’re sick and I want to take care of you. We can repeat this another time,” you say gently, staring into his eyes as the frown on his face deepens.

“But you always said how excited you were for this” he protests.

“I am, yeah, but I’d rather stay at home with you than going there alone and letting my boyfriend here. Or worse, dragging you with me,” you tell him. You see the corners of his lips pick up and feel your own eyes lit up as he tries to hide his smile.

“You don’t want me to go!” A dramatic gasp leaves your mouth and you throw your head back.

“What- no! I just- I like it when…” he trails off and leaves you silent. You stare back at him, raising a brow and waiting for his answer. “I said that I just want to spend time with you and I’m kind of happy you’re staying here,” he whispers.

You grin and pull his face closer to yours, noses almost touching.

“You’re so in love with me,” He rolls his eyes and pushes you back, not before kissing the palm of your hand. “Yeah yeah I am. Am I not allowed to?”

You smirk and drape your arm over him as he shuffles closer to you.

~

A week later, Peter’s still sick. Or at least, that’s what aunt May told you. He didn’t leave his bed for hours and you slowly started to worry whether to take him to the doctors or not. You noticed the dark circles under his eyes from hours of studying and doing assignments that were already due last week. Why would he stay up at night, if he was sick? It’s what made you think whether he’s really faking it. He wouldn’t fake being sick and stay up the whole night, right?

“Y/N, did Peter tell you when he’ll come back?” Your head snaps up to the teacher talking to you, frowning and shaking your head.

“He didn’t. He’s been really sick for a little more than a week now, I don’t think he’ll come back this week yet.” The teacher nods and carries on with the class, taking a pen and starting to write something into a brown book.

You feel a light tap on your shoulder and turn around, being greeted with Ned’s worried expression.

“You sure he’s alright? He didn’t text me either,” he checks.

“He did throw up like three times last week,” you trail off, thinking about how your boyfriend called you three times from Tuesday to Wednesday, telling you he threw up and asking if you could come over.

“I’ll go to his later anyways, should I tell him to talk to you?” Ned only nods, lowering his eyes back to the paper in front of him and starting to write down his answers quickly.

~

You knock on Peter’s door after May let you in. She was in a hurry, talking about having a job interview in twenty minutes and being late as she left you in the living room, closing the door to the bathroom behind her.

There’s a faint “yeah” when you open the door, looking through the crack into his room and staring at the figure hunched up under blankets. Your eyes soften as you step into the room, closing the door silently. The blinds are up, different from the other day. His room also looks cleaner. He must’ve cleaned up the pile of clothes that was there last week and tidied his desk. You frown as you look at his bed. Yesterday he told you his head hurt too much and that he felt dizzy when standing up. Must’ve been May, probably, you shrug and walk closer to his bed, sitting down at the end of it.

“Hey,” His voice startles you. There isn’t a crack in it anymore and his eyes don’t squint as much at the bright lighting in his room as they did the last time you were here. You hum and lean back on your arms.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

“Pretty good.” He peaks up from under the blanket, smiling at you. His eyes widen when he realizes what he just said and starts coughing. You frown and sit up straight, arm stretched out ready to grab the glass of water next to him.

“Uh, compared to last week. Yes, pretty good compared to last week,” he adds quickly and hides back under the blanket. You giggle and shuffle closer to his form, running your hand through his locks under the blanket and earning a sigh from him. He likes it when you touch him, whether it’s hugging, running your hand through his hair, or when you’d cling into his biceps as the headboard hit against the wall repeatedly. There is always physical touch between the two of you.

“Do you want to drink something? I’ll go make you another tea,” you propose and stand up, leaving his bed. He nods and smiles at you. You leave the room and walk into the kitchen. This time, you close the door to his room completely. He’s feeling much better than last week, but also acting suspicious. Peter wouldn’t skip school and act sick. It 's not like him. Like, at all. Right?

The door to his room is closed, so the first thing Peter decides to do when you leave is jump out the bed and walk to his desk, taking his phone and getting back into his comfortable bed. He makes sure you can't hear any frantic steps or movements.

After you left Peter's room the first night he asked you to stay, he started to like the attention you were giving him. It's not that you don't pay attention to your boyfriend. In fact, Peter may be in the center of your attention and you his. You two make sure to show each other the love you feel and that you care.

It's just that with your busy schedules and upcoming exams, spending time together wasn't your top priority anymore. He misses the days when you'd go to Delmar's with him after school, instead of instantly leaving because of an essay that was due that same week. So he decided to do what he does, in his opinion, best. Lie. Act sick.

He did feel bad when he first started coughing every time May was around and she worried for him, but at some point he realized staying at home a little longer wasn’t that bad and he could use some time away from school. Although he could’ve just told May he was in pressure and wanted to stay home for a couple of days, he’d rather use this option.

Peter suits himself in his bed and turns on the phone, already flooded by texts from Mj and Ned telling him the homework they got for today and texts from Ned asking where he was at, and why he stays home for this long. He stifles a laugh at the memes Ned sent into the group chat and glances to the door at the muffled steps he heard. When he’s sure there isn’t anyone close to his room, he returns his eyes to the screen of his phone.

You’re on the other side of the door, side of your face pressed against the door and holding in your breath to not get noticed. You heard a laugh when you were in the kitchen. You left Peter laying in his bed, he was too dizzy to get up and grab his phone. You raise a brow and lean closer to the door, daring to press down the doorknob and silently stepping in, halting in the open doorway with your hand on your hip and an expectant expression.

Peter is sitting up on his bed, covers long forgotten on the end of it and phone in hand. He’s laughing at something playing on his screen, not noticing you standing in the room yet. You click your tongue, pursing your lips and waiting for your presence to be noticed. When your boyfriend throws his head back, letting out another loud laugh, you decide to let him know you’re there.

“oh, ok. so i see you’re better?” you quirk a brow, smirking. his eyes widen and his head snaps to you, watching you through plate-wide eyes. he sucks in a breath and puts his lip in a thin line.

“uhm, you’re back?” he croaks out. a nervous giggle leaves his lips and he shrugs with a smile plastered on his face, biting his bottom lip. “i- i feel better,” you roll your eyes and place the cup of tea on his desk, making him frown.

“you didn’t really think i’d place it next to you? i see you’re better, go get it yourself.” he opens his mouth, only to shut it again. it was true, he looks and feels much better than last week. and peter knows he’s back to his healthy state, he just kept it from you. which is why he’s shocked at first, then frowns and groans.

“come on! yes i feel better, but can you give me the cup?” he asks. you shake your head, balancing your weight on one leg, jutting your hip out. oh, peter knows that look on your face. you’re not happy. not utterly disappointed, but you don’t seem the happiest either.

“no way you made me and may care for you for a whole week straight, when you didn’t feel sick!” you throw your hands up in the air, letting out an annoyed huff. he whines at you in a clearly irritated state and juts out his lip, trying to look as sad as possible.

“no, don’t pull that face on me. i’m pissed off,” you mutter as you walk to him, sitting down on his bed with your back to his figure. “please? i’m sorry i lied,” he starts. you frown, turning around.

“why did you, in the first place. you now have much more work to do. oh, and have fun explaining may why you lied about being sick. she stayed up with you at night, hell, i went to sleep at three for you! peter, we had school at seven!” you cry out.

the boy on the bed with you just shrugs, not exactly knowing what to say next.

“i guess i liked the attention i got.” you huff and take a glance at him. when he stays serious, you turn your whole body to him. “you liked the attention i gave you?” you ask in disbelief. he slowly nods.

“do i not give you attention?” you worry. he quickly shakes his head, arms out to reach for your hands. “no! you do, it’s just, with school and everything,...” he trails off. you nod and squeeze his hand, demanding for him to look up at your face.

“i know we don’t spend as much time together as we used to, anymore. but peter, you know i’m in so much pressure because of school! besides, don’t you have to focus on school, too? and may also told you you should look for an internship because you didn’t get one last year,” you reason. he lets go off your hand, clearly not amused.

“i told her i don’t want one. what will it do?” “uh, look good on your college applications?” you say, as if it was the most obvious thing on earth. he chuckles.

“besides that. i’ll find one, i just want to spend time with you for now,” he says softly as he scoots closer to your warm body. you put your arms around him, laying your head on his placed on your chest.

“i do too, pete. but i promise that in,” you stop and cran your neck to look behind you at the calender he’s got hung on the wall, “in five weeks we’ll be able to cuddle and watch movies like we did before again. now, we need to focus on school and you on your missed assignments,” you sigh. you feel him tense under you.

“what?! five weeks!” you smirk against his hair and squeeze him tighter.

“i was joking! two actually. but, until then, you’re stuck with me anyway studying so it won’t be that big of a problem if i stay away from you for one day,” you laugh and kiss his temple. he nuzzles into your chest, inhaling in your sent and sighing. “as long as we spend that time together, i don’t care how long it is until we finish all exams,” he whispers against you.

Prompt: Non-Superhero AU. Peter gets a sore throat! Which is very ill-timed, because him and the reader had plans to go to a concert, but they ditched in favor of the reader taking care of Peter. Days pass by and Peter is still "sick". Spoiler, he's just faking it at this point because he's enjoying the extra attention he's getting from his partner.

taglists

permanent

@bi-lmg @aayaissaa @fandomxreaders

peter parker

@samscaptain @emistrash @hermayone

#peter parker x reader #lolbrosgetsicktoo #peter parker #peter parker x gn!reader #gn!reader #gender neutral!reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #sick!peter parker #peter parker AU #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker one shot #peter parker oneshot

[sunatooru]

Uh idk if this is weird but like would it be okay to request a head canon where like the reader has a vagina & penis it can be gn or female s/o but like they’ve been very nervous about having sex bc they think their partner will think their genitals are weird (maybe they had a bad experience with an ex). And so they are dating one of the boys and he wonders why you keep swerving around sex so u finally show him why thinking he’s gonna break up with you and be creeped out but he’s like totally,... turned on??? Like he sucks you off while fingering you or like jacking u off while he’s fucking you and thinks it’s so hot as the cums is like dribbling out of your dick at the same time. Mans is in LOVE 😍. If you don’t feel comfortable writing this THATS TOTALLY FINE I was jus trying to see if any of my fav writers would be into it. If you do do it can you do it with kuroo, atsumu, bokuto, and you can pick the fourth!! I’m so sorry this is so specific

Heyyy here is your long awaited request (I’m sorry I’m late). this idea is very hot and I know the boys would get crazy over this. Also I appreciate being one of your favs, thank you xx

~ 

warnings: minors dni, 18+ smut content, may be timeskip spoilers, intersex reader (futanari/ futa), intercouse, fingering, blowjob, mentions kitten and daddy and bunny, praise kink?, creampie and just the boys indulging into you

~

Kuroo

* He’s so lovely to you

* Always holding your hand, kissing your forehead and looking at you lovingly

* And although sex wasn’t necessary for him, he would always wonder why you never got further than making out and leaving hickeys

* Your hands always pushing against his chest when he would carefully slip a finger under your waistband

* And today was no different

* When you break away from his kiss, he worries when you don’t meet his gaze

* “Baby, what’s wrong? Am I doing something wrong?” He questions and you’re quick to shake your head no

* He can see your hesitancy, you’re chewing your lips and you finally tell him. You watch his eyes widen when you tell him you have both sex genitals, and that your previous partner mocked you for it

* He feels a lot in that moment. He’s both angry at the audacity of your previous partner but also curious as to how you look and mostly how you’ll feel

* “Baby, screw them. I don’t care about that. I just want to make you feel good.” And you let him

* He lays you down on the bed and kisses down your neck, your shirt already off and he drags his lips across your chest, grin plastered when you whine as he toys with your nipple

* “So beautiful” he whispers, tongue point out when he slowly pulls your trousers down

* He feels his cock twitch at the slight bulge forming in your underwear

* His own dent forming as he sits between your thighs in only his shorts

* He groan when he takes off your underwear, hips unconsciously rutting forward as he sees your pussy glistening and your pretty cock tip swollen

* “You’re so fuck hot. Look at what you’ve done.” He locks his eyes with yours and watches you trail down to see him free his hard cock out, giving it a few pumps

* He drags his finger against your folds, your own cock twitching at his touch and it’s enough for him to tease his tip at your entrance

* He clenches his jaw when he slides in, eyes shut as he feels your pussy swallow his hard cock

* “Fuck baby just like that.” He groans when you moan our his name, walls tightening when he slides his whole length in

* He places both hands on your hip, holding them down as he begins to rock against you

* “Tetsu- tets- so goo-“ he grins at your inability to form your words, thrust getting faster when you arch your back

* And then he sees your cock stand tall, he doesn’t even think as he wraps his large hand against it

* You yell at his grip, body thrashing in the sheet as he begins jerking you off

* The double stimulation has you stuttering

* And his eyes are just watching how your pussy pulls him in and your cock growing redder with every pump

* “Fuck you’re so hot...so sexy.”

* “Pleas- I.. I’m so close.” And so he moves his hand faster, you tending body sigh you’re about to cum

* And then he sees they way your cum sprays onto your chest, the liquid drops decorating your skin, he feels his balls tighten

* “Shit Kitten!” He moans as he slips out and cums between your folds

* Your now softening cock reaching to touch some of his load and he just knows he’s keeping you forever

Atsumu

* He’s instigated sex a couple of times

* He never got mad when you brush it away though, he really likes you and he wasn’t going to let it come in the way

* And then one day while you’re making out, his hands start to travel down your stomach, almost making it to your crotch if you didn’t stop him

* And now he’s concerned but doesn’t say anything until you tell him the issue

* To say he’s shocked is an understatement

* He’s trying to visualise how you look down their, a cock and a pussy, fuck he instantly got hard

* “That’s not gonna stop me, you know. That’s actually got me fully hard, sweetheart. Ya gonna let daddy give you a good time?” He’s not sure if the image of your cunt and cock made him slip out the ‘daddy’

* “Yes please, daddy.” He groans so loudly when you shyly reply, he drops his face back to yours and kisses you hungrily

* He spreads your thighs apart and starts grinding against you, both of you still dressed

* Your moans has him consumed and he quickly sheds off his shirt, lowering his pants and stripping you that you’re only in your underwear

* A clear outline of the effect he has on you showing

* “Shit babe, who said you could be so fucking hot” he hoots as he kisses down your stomach, slowly lowering your underwear and the small slap of your cock hitting his face has him jumping your thigh

* He licks his lips hungrily, ripping your underwear away and slipping your cock into his mouth

* Your hands immediately goes to his head, fingers gripping his hair as his wet tongue dances around your tip

* “Mmm” he groans and the vibration has you thrusting your hips upwards, dick deep into his throat as he gags

* You try to pull away but he hold you into position, one hand trailing to his own fat cock, stroking it as he makes eye contact with you

* He bobs his head, your whines and whimper making him speed up and when he finally pulls away, he watches as his spit covers your cock, quickly pushing his cock into your pussy, eyes rolled back at the sensation of your tight wet walls hug him

* “So tight, fuck you gonna take my cock like a good bunny?” He demands as he begins moving back and forth

* He hunches over you, gives you sloppy kisses and feels yo it hand travel between where you’re connected

* He bellows a moan as he watches your pump your cock fast, he matches up it pace, his balls slapping against your ass as you use jerk yourself off

* When he feels you tighten against him, he thrust sharply and bellows a groan, eyes stuck on your hand as you arch your back and shoot out a little bit of cum and cums inside you

* “That’s a pretty fucking sight..” he smirks as his cum oozes out

Bokuto

* You actually enclosed to him about not being comfortable with sex yet, not really explaining why but he respected it

* Until one night you’re both rubbing your hands against each other and he accidentally places his hand over your crotch and you tense

* “Huh ? Baby baby what’s wrong? I - I’m so sorry.” Starts apologising over and over until you calm him down

* And then you tell him about having both a dick and vagina, also telling him that you had a bad experience with your ex because of it

* He just looks so confused, why would your ex have an issue at being able to pleasure you in two different ways?

* “Baby, if you let me I’ll replace that memory with something amazing.” He gives you a small smile and you agree

* His eyes grow when he sees your semi hard cock and how pretty your pussy looks

* He kisses you hard, biting your lip as he pulls away

* He grins and then stuffs one of his fingers into his mouth, making sure to coat it with enough saliva before slowly pushing it inside your cunt

* “Aghh..” you roll your hips and he smirks and looks at you determinedly

* He pumps his finger inside you, surprising you when his tongue flicks at your folds

* He synchronises his thrusts and licks, getting faster and faster until he feels you’re wet enough for another finger

* The stretch of him adding another thick finger makes you mewl, you clasp around him, thighs pushing together as his face gets struck between

* But he doesn’t mind, in fact he loves it

* “Taste so good, pretty” he tells you and then he uses his over hand and strokes your cock from the base upwards

* He releases a groan when he feels you pulse both on your cock and pussy

* And then he gets to business

* His fingers continue to fuck your hole, the sounds of squelching motivating him as you cry while he fists your cock harshly

* “You like this baby? Like how I’m fucking you together? Use your words, go on.” He bites his lips when you cry out

* “S-so good don’t stop please Kou...” your nails scratching at his hand when he curls his fingers inside of you

* He feels pride fill him, knowing that no one has made you feel this good, knowing that he’ll continue to make you feel good

* He thinks you look so sexy, sprawled out as you suck his finger into your cunt and wither as your cock is in his tight grasp

* He feels himself straining against his joggers, but he doesn’t care, his goal is to make you scream

* He pulls away from your cunt to spit on your cock, letting it act as lube and gets back to eating your out like his life depended on it

* It’s too much for you. You good, you scream as you feel your stomach tighten and you push his face further into your pussy as you cream around his tongue

* Your chest rising rapidly at the orgasm, you look at his smirking face that’s wet with your juice

* “That was so fucking hot.” He states, lifting his body up and your eyes fixate on his joggers

* A small wet patch growing against his cock

#intersex anon #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq headcanons #hq smut #hq x y/n #kuroo testuro x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo smut #kuroo x you #kuroo headcanons #atsumu headcanons #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu smut #bokuto headcanon #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto smut #bokuto x reader

[pascalpanic]

“You can call me whenever you want… Even if you don’t have a reason to.” with Javi 😩 OR marcus moreno bc I think it fits him too

Personal Number (Javier Peña x f!Reader)

Summary: You’re lonely working as the American ambassador’s secretary. You miss the days of being down with the agents as a receptionist. At least you get to talk with Javier Peña on the phone somewhat often.

W/C: 1.5k

Warnings: language, brief mentions of sexual content. this is pretty tame.

A/N: I LOVE JAVIER. can you tell?? thank you for this idea Thea!!! I love it so much and I hope you like it too. Also, can you tell I like writing phone calls? I just think it’s so fun and a medium that isn’t covered super often.

it’s definitely not because I like not having to write about body language or action.

Javier Peña was a flirt. You knew that from the start, from the stories you’d heard from the other women around the embassy. He was cute, you admitted. Tight shirts and equally slim-fitting jeans, dark hair, lean and strong. He walked with power in his stance.

You liked him. He was a nice man, respectful. He flirted with everyone, but he never went too far. Sure, he’d slept with a solid chunk of the women who worked here, but he was supposedly a wonderful lover. His methods were unorthodox in the field, but he got what he needed. He was incredibly clever, setting up traps and getting information by any means necessary. You talked occasionally, when he’d stop by because you had a message for him at the receptionist desk. He was good for conversation. He liked the cinnamon candies you kept on your desk.

The other women talked with you more than he did. You and the other women chatted, ate lunch together. The rare female presence was much appreciated in such a testosterone-laden environment. You all got along well. Even compared stories of sleeping with certain agents, how their skills at finding the clit ranked, how snuggly they were after, how receptive they were to certain acts. It was fun.

Javier was a busy man. The phone on his desk rarely rang. If someone needed someone around the embassy, they went and talked to them in person. It was an excuse to get away from your desk, people figured. You rarely used the phone too, even as a receptionist. You’d answer calls when they came, but they were usually directed other places, with specific extensions. People here were more direct.

That was before you’d been appointed as the ambassador’s secretary. It was an honor. It meant you were good at your job. You’d taken it, bragging to the other girls over lunch. Everyone was excited for you.

The job, you found out, was dry. It consists most days of making phone calls. Stechner, Ambassador wants you. Ambassador? Stechner’s here. Yep. I’ll let him in. Hi, we’ll take three orders of arepas- sorry, yes sir? Scratch that, he wants four. And can you throw in a coffee- one second, yes sir? Got it- with four creams and two sugars.

You doodle on a notepad many days. You read newspapers or reports. You proofread memos for the ambassador before he sends them off to someone important. It’s draining and dry and you have to admit you hate it.

“Peña,” a voice answers the phone.

“Hi Javier. Are you busy?” You ask.

He smiles a little as he hears your voice, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs. “When am I ever around here?” He asks, and you chuckle.

“I know the feeling.”

The two of you had talked a few times before. He was nice enough, if curt. Usually, he was busy. People only came to you when they needed something as a receptionist, and now even more so as a private secretary.

“How’s the promotion treating you?” He asks. He’d heard word as he talked with others. Noticed your spot was empty for a day or two before being replaced by another woman. He missed the little candies you kept on your desk. You always kept cinnamon disks stocked in a separate jar from the seasonal candies for him.

“It’s… good,” you nod, drawing a little fish on your notepad. “Kind of feels like a demotion sometimes. It’s boring up here. And lonely. I miss being around to talk with people.”

“We miss you,” he admits with a smile. “You still keep those cinnamon candies on your desk up there?”

You shake your head, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder. “No. Ambassador doesn’t like them, so I switched over. I did get some new fun caramel flavored stuff though.”

“Damn,” he chuckles.

“Would it make you come up here if I had them?”

“I may have to visit the ambassador more often if you did,” he teases, and you chuckle softly. “Poor little social butterfly, cooped up on the highest floor, away from humanity.”

“I do feel like Rapunzel some days,” you sigh, still smiling. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. I was supposed to ask if you were busy for the ambassador, not for myself. He wants to see you if you have a minute.”

“Yeah, I’ve got time. Right now?”

“Right now.”

You can hear shuffling on the other end. “Let me put my signature on one more paper and I’ll be up.” He hangs up and you sigh. There was the most interaction you’ll get for the day.

-

It seems that the closer the men get to Escobar, the more the ambassador needs to see Murphy and Peña. You don’t mind. The two men are funny, and the way they interact makes you smile.

Peña talks to you more than Murphy. Steve is more likely to go outside to smoke, while Javier smokes at his desk. That means you dial him more often simply because there’s a higher probability he’s at his desk. Not because you enjoy talking with him more.

The two men had picked up on calling you Rapunzel. Your energy and excitement was draining day by day, and they compared your new position outside of the ambassador’s office, high on the top floor of the embassy, to Rapunzel’s tower.

You playfully called them Javi and Stephen in return to annoy both of them. It didn’t work on Javier. It turned out he liked that, and you could tell by the way his voice softened. So you kept that.

“Peña.”

“Guess who?” you ask dryly, tapping your pen against your notepad.

The man chuckles. “You must be having an exciting day up there. I can hear it in your voice.”

“Ha.” The word is humorless and flat. “Ambassador wants to see you two.”

Javier groans. “Kind of busy.”

“Well, I’ll tell him that,” you nod and write down on a legal pad- separate from your doodling pad- Peña busy. 11:30. “How are things going down there today?”

“Annoying. Steve is a pain in my ass- hey, shut the fuck up,” you can hear him say even as he removes the receiver away from his phone. You giggle at that, smiling as he speaks again. “Sorry. Can you guess who that was?”

“What was he saying this time?” You ask, twirling the cord to the phone around your finger.

“Nothing,” he insists, but you can hear Murphy shouting. Some message he’s trying to get to you.

“Well, alright. Call up when you’re less busy,” you ask him and hang up.

You really want to know what Murphy was going on about. You dial his desk and he picks up. “S’this Rapunzel?” A southern accent twangs.

“Of course,” you chuckle. “What were you shouting into Javi’s phone?”

“Oh, nothing. Oh, hey, wait,” he says, pulling the phone down and pressing it to his chest. You can hear the muffled voices of the two men, but not what they’re saying. He puts it back to his ear quickly after. “Anyway, it’s nothing. We’ll call you back when we’ve got a minute to come up.”

Odd, you think, before going back to your work on your desk.

-

The phone rings again an hour later. “Ambassador’s office,” you say with a gentle lilt to your voice.

“Hey, Rapunzel,” a kind but rough voice speaks through the phone. Javi.

“Hey,” you chuckle a little. “You guys ready to come up?”

“Uh, no, not yet. But I do want you to write something down for me.”

“Anything,” you nod, priming your pen above the piece of paper.

Javier rattles off ten numbers, and you diligently write them down on the paper. You repeat it back and he affirms that it’s correct. “Got it. What is it?”

“It’s my personal phone number.”

“Javi, the ambassador already has your phone number.”

“No, I know. It’s for you.”

Oh. Your heart flutters excitedly in your chest, causing you to let out a soft giggle.

“I like talking with you. Our phone calls are the highlight of my day. You can call me whenever you want… even if you don’t have a reason to. I just… like hearing your voice. I like you.”

You clutch the paper, grinning ear to ear. “Well, I like you too, Javi. I’ll be using this,” you assure him, looking down at it and beaming. “Now, you said you’re busy. Get back to work.”

“Yes ma’am. See you in a bit.”

Click. Dial tone. Your heart fills with sparks and little fireworks, sending you into a loud laugh of excitement.

The thick oak doors swing open. The ambassador looks at you with concern. “Everything alright out here?” He asks you.

You nod, biting your lip and looking down to hide your grin. “Yeah, yeah. Great, sir. Peña and Murphy aren’t ready yet. They’ll be up later.”

The man gives you a nod and closes the door behind him.

The grin returns. You trace the freshly-dried ink, the nine numbers that will connect you directly to Javier at any time you want. You pull your contact book from your purse, sitting beneath your desk, flipping to a clean page.

Javier Peña, you write.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

personal number

You go back and draw a small heart next to his name.

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javi peña x reader #javi peña #narcos fanfic #narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pascalpanic

[harrywritingsbyme]

Story: y/n feels sorry for being herself. sometimes she has trouble accepting and loving herself..even tho she has no problem loving Harry, with all his flaws. he definitely helps her with that ;)

Beautiful

Anonymous Said: 11 and 20 from the prompt list

Based Off Of This Ask

A/N: I got a request for 11 and 20 from the prompt list and they fit perfectly with this. I definitely wrote this with myself, my own struggles, and the struggles of the other beautiful ladies out there in mind. I also wanted to make it a lil bit deeper by incorporating some post-pregnancy y/n had Harry up in there. Also, I wanted do something real fluffy bc what I have planned for Friday is insane. Enjoy🙃

11. “Fuck you have no idea what you do to me.”

20. “Such a beautiful body, why would anyone hate it?”

You were really going through it this morning. For starters, when you woke up you were immediately drawn towards going back to sleep and recouping some of the sleep you’d lost recently. On top of that, your nipples were incredibly sore from breastfeeding and your body was still drained and recovering from giving birth three months ago. But luckily for you though, you were blessed with an amazing husband who didn’t hesitate to take care of you guys’ baby boy. You didn’t even have to ask him, as soon as he saw the exhausted and overwhelmed look on your face when you two woke up to the loud cries of your son, he immediately sprung into action and ordered you to stay in bed and take care of yourself while he tended to the baby and gave you your space. You were able to get a bit more sleep and feel way better than you did earlier on in the morning. Another hour and a half of sleep did wonders for you at this point in your life. That small window of time allowed you to feel rested enough to get up out of bed and get yourself together.

You wasted absolutely no time stripping your sleep clothes off and hopping right into the shower. The water was the perfect temperature and you just stood under it. The hot water pouring down onto your body felt absolutely amazing and you could hands down feel your stress and tension just melting away from it. You were relaxed. Even though you loved your son with your entire being and then some, it was hard. You were so grateful for Harry and you felt like you shouldn’t have any complaints at all.  But it’s just that you weren’t used to having anyone depend on you the way your son just about solely depends on you. So times like these where you were granted a little time to regroup were cherished and seized.

After a nice long shower that was filled with pampering, you turn the water off and you step out to get yourself dried off and dressed. You wrap the fluffy towel from the counter around your body and you head back into the bedroom to grab some clothes. After picking out your daily attire of a t-shirt and sweats, you station yourself on the bed to get ready. But unfortunately for you, you’d stationed yourself right in front of the full body mirror. The second you unwrap your towel from your body, the good feeling that was flowing through you vanished and was replaced with a sad and embarrassed one. This feeling hadn’t reared it’s ugly head in a good while. You hadn’t had the time since the baby was born to take a good look at yourself; and you were starting to feel like you were better off that way.

You always struggled when it came to you having a positive viewpoint of yourself, and in particular your weight. You were constantly battling against the negativity that was coming at you from almost every part of your life. You were in an uphill battle with losing weight and getting to a place where you felt comfortable all the way around. Whenever you took strides to get to that better place, you were always pulled back down. That force was the little comments from family members, people online, and yourself. Whenever you saw or heard what people had to say, you let yourself be overcome with that negativity and in turn it was harder to keep going and push forward. You felt like all your efforts were going to waste and you were never going to see results, inside and out. And at some point you just stopped loving yourself. You managed to love Harry despite his flaws but you couldn’t seem to do it for you. You pretty much gave up on loving yourself. And to make it even worse, you put all of the love inside of you that was supposed to be dedicated to yourself into loving others. The only way you got out of that enormous rut was because of Harry. He made sure to consistently and constantly reassure you that you were beautiful and worth loving. He did daily affirmations and did everything in his power to help you get back on track and work towards your goals.

And for a year you were able to have success in doing that.

After a little over a year of loving yourself, working towards your weight goal, and just feeling good, you got pregnant. When the news broke, you and Harry were over the moon. The two of you were extremely happy and in love that you both could’ve just burst from joy. You were head over heels for Harry and for yourself, and Harry was head over heels for you and the fact that you were head over heels for yourself. Everything was the way it was supposed to be and it was only getting better now that you guys were expecting a bundle of joy. Fortunately for you both, you were able to glide through your pregnancy with only minor hiccups along the way. Since you were always exhausted and you were actively changing, your solid workout and extensive selfceare routines fell by the wayside. You were so tired and just not in the mood that you couldn’t even do the low intensity workouts that your doctor said were okay. The only things you had were your mental wellbeing which was fine, and Harry. You felt bad that you weren’t keeping yourself up the way you’d been doing for the past year and you came down on yourself for it at times. But of course, Harry nipped it right in the bud and brought you back. You couldn’t imagine what you’d do without him throughout all of this.

So seeing yourself in the mirror and taking in your body now was incredibly disheartening and to you it was like a slap in the face to all the hard work you put in along with the tremendous amount of support from Harry. You fully understood that your body wouldn’t be the same after giving birth but you were hoping that it wouldn’t be as bad as it was. That is, as bad as you thought it was. Because you were constantly fighting with those negative thoughts and trying your hardest to love yourself the way you deeply love Harry, everyone else, and now your son, you tended to over exaggerate in your mind how bad something was. If you saw something you didn’t like, you didn’t like it all. And as a result of that, you spent a good amount of time standing there in front of the mirror critiquing your body and asking yourself over and over again how in the hell am I supposed to get back to normal?. You were so engrossed in overanalyzing and critiquing that you didn’t even notice Harry come back into the room.

While you were having some alone time, Harry went into full dad mode. He was able to get bubs to quiet down and let his dad take care of him. He did a quick diaper change so that bubs could be comfortable while Harry made himself something quick breakfast. He played with the baby for a while before giving him a lukewarm bath to get him cleaned up for the day, and he fed bubs, lulling the little boy right into a milk induced sleep. And hopefully, it’d stick for an hour or two so that he could spend some time with his wife. When he makes his way into the room, Harry’s feeling good. He got the baby squared away and taken care of, and his wife was taking some much needed time to herself. He knew that it was a big adjustment for you and he wanted to take as much off of you as possible because you deserved it. After your struggles in the past with your weight and loving yourself, Harry could only imagine how difficult it must be to keep yourself in a good headspace and just enjoy motherhood to the fullest without focusing on the “negatives”.

That’s why when he saw you looking at your naked body in the mirror with a downcast and almost disgusted look on your face towards your reflection, Harry knew exactly what was going on and he had to step in. You were doing so well and the last thing he wanted was for you to fall back into that deep hole of negativity that you worked so hard to get out of. He immediately makes his way over and stands right in front of you so that he’s blocking your view of the mirror. When he does this, your head still hangs low and you can’t even bring yourself to look up at him.

“I look horrible.” You whisper sorrowfully. At this, Harry extends his hands out to cup your cheeks and lift your head up to look at him.

“Baby…” He coos, seeing the saddened look in your glassy eyes. “You are the most beautiful woman in the world, you always have been. You’re even more beautiful now.”

“No I’m not. Everything is worse and I won’t be able to get back from this.” You sigh pessimistically.

“Yes it’ll take time, but you can do it and I’ll be right here by your side to help you through.” He begins, lovingly reassuring you of his full commitment to you. Harry then lets go of your cheeks and moves so that he’s behind your body and so that you can see the mirror again before wrapping his arms around your naked waist. “When I look at you, I see a badass and a strong woman. I see the woman who carried and delivered our son. I see the beautiful mother of my child. I see the woman I married three years ago. I see you Y/n, the love of my life.” He whispers, trying his hardest to hold back his own tears. Seeing you be so harsh towards yourself was not okay with him and it tore him apart. You are his rock, and to see you falling apart was causing him to break down himself.

“I just- I hate it.”

“Such a beautiful body, why would anyone hate it?” He whispers, trying to reason with you. “You’re beautiful.” He reminds pointedly. “Now say it with me.” He instructs further.

“You’re beautiful.”

“I’m beautiful.” The both of you say in unison repeatedly, every time Harry gives you a kiss to your neck. As this continues on, Harry couldn’t stop himself from stiffening up in his pants. The two of you hadn’t been this intimate in a good while and he missed it. He knew that you were still feeling insecure and that his purpose was to reassure you that you’re not what you’re saying you are and that he loves you so much. That’s why Harry was absolutely loving the idea of making love to you so that you could really see how amazing you are and the effect you have on him.

While his kisses and affirmations continue, Harry’s hand slowly strays away from your lower stomach. He slowly but surely makes his way down to the area between your legs, cupping you in his hand with his fingertip resting on your button between your folds. He then begins to circle his finger around your button. You hadn’t felt his fingers in a good while, and you had to admit that they felt really good against you right now. When your pants and small moans begin to hasten and you begin to enjoy him more, Harry swiftly turns you around to face him before lifting you up and lying you down on the bed. Once you’re lying on the bed, Harry quickly undresses himself  before lying on top of you.

“Fuck you have no idea what you do to me.” Harry admires, taking in all of your amazing features. He then begins to work your body, starting with your neck and working his way down. He peppers kisses all across your skin and he continues with his affirmation as he kisses down and up your body. “Wanna make you feel good, wanna make love to you. Can I baby?” Harry asks softly, bringing his lips to yours.

“Please?” You sigh needfully up to him. You really needed to feel good. When you give him this answer, Harry is quick to keep himself propped up on one hand as he reaches down to line himself up with your entrance. When you feel him nudging at your hole, you reach up to pull his face down and connect your lips with his before lifting your hips up a little to give him the signal to keep going. As he pushes into you, you both keep your mouth’s against each others, moaning into one another as he enters you. It felt a bit weird, but it felt really good. You felt full and Harry was filling you. Everything was perfect.

Harry continues to slowly and deeply rock his hips into you while whispering sweet nothings into your ear through his moans and  keeping two fingers on your clit. The both of you were on cloud nine. You were being fully pleasured by Harry and he was pleasuring you and you feel special the way you deserved while receiving amazing pleasure as well. Since the both of you were a bit more sensitive due to the fact that there were so many emotions involved, you and Harry reached the edge pretty quickly. The pleasure was outstanding and you both needed to let go and fully experience it all.

“Wanna cum with me darling?” Harry coos through a moan, continuing to rock into you and rub at your clit.

“So bad.” You whine, feeling his cock hit that sweet spot deep inside you.

“I love you so much baby.” Harry grunts down to you, deeply pushing in one final time  as he begins to let go inside you.

“I love you too!” You gasping response, feeling your own release wash over your entire being. It was amazing to say the least.

“Y’so beautiful.” He says again as he rides the wave of his release. When he says this, he is subliminally signaling for you to repeat it.

“I’m beautiful.” You say softly, still feeling the major shocks of your release.

One round of loving wouldn’t do the ultimate trick in changing how you felt, but it was definitely a good place to start.

Masterlist

#Harry Styles #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #my harry writing #concepts of h #dad!harry #husband!harry #pregnant!y/n #harrywritingsbyme

[luvteez]

bassists do it deeper

pairing: yunho x genderneutral!reader genre + tags: smut, band au | kink discovery, exhibitionism, a brief segment of semi-public sex, hand kink, size kink, yunho monster cock bc this deserves a tag, power play, switch dynamics (i think??), dom!yunho pulls through in the end, unprotected sex wc: 6.3k

note: big thanks to my fav babie @lustjoong​ for motivating me to combine the two ideas i had for the prompt into one and motivating me to finish this!! here’s my take on the unspoken obligatory yunho size kink fic every ateez smut writer should have written once but make him a bassist. also, the band au to this pwp is literally just there as an excuse to make yeosang the lead singer of the band bc if kq won’t give yeosang lines, i will 

A lot can happen throughout a single weekend, as your English professor suddenly quitting her job, your brother Yeosang almost burning down the kitchen from deep frying an egg, an influx of voicemails in your inbox all sent from Wooyoung, as well as Yeosang’s punk rock band losing a member. It’s a lot to process when all you’ve done is stay the night at Yuqi’s, even harder so when Wooyoung keeps repeating every five seconds that Seonghwa quit the band. (”Why did it have to be Seonghwa who left Stereowave? He was the hottest one!”)

That being said, you expected to come home to a beyond grumpy Yeosang who was trying to find a replacement asap. A band without a bassist sounds empty, and while Stereowave has garnered a big enough fanbase over the years that wouldn’t mind the band continuing as a trio, it just feels wrong. Besides, branding a group consisting of Yeosang the frontman, San the guitarist, Mingi the drummer, and nobody covering the bassist position a band doesn’t sit right.

You were prepared for the worst; a messy kitchen, Yeosang walking around in clothes he wore for five days straight, possibly the outbreak of World War III depending on how shitty he’s feeling. But instead, you find the kitchen exceptionally clean and Yeosang acting as if nothing ever happened.

“Can you help set up the camera? The guys and I wanna film a new song.”

“Uh, sure,” you answer irritatedly. “Shouldn’t you be more concerned about finding a replacement for Seonghwa though?”

“Oh, we already have a new bassist,” he waves off casually, “What are you gaping at? Shut that jaw of yours before flies fly into your nasty mouth.”

“First of all, rude.” Yeosang rolls his eyes at that comment. For a split second, you’re contemplating letting him figure out on his own how to use the camera because he’s the walking embodiment of a technology illiterate, but your curiosity about the new band member is bigger. “But how did you manage to find a new replacement so fast? It’s been like, what, a day since Seonghwa left?”

Yeosang sighs. “He’s been thinking of quitting for weeks now, so I had enough time to look for a new bassist. It’s not that big of a deal anyway.”

And this is exactly why you should never get dicked down by your bandmate several times in a month, you think to yourself. Seonghwa and Yeosang thought they were slick, but everyone figured they were more than friends. Needless to say, it was only a matter of time until the strain of their relationship wreaked havoc within the band.

“So,” you say as you two walk to the makeshift studio in the basement, “Is the new guy good? What’s his name?”

The change of topic makes Yeosang relax visibly. There’s a sheepish smile on his face and he replies, “You’ll see.”

You arch a brow. For some reason, that doesn’t settle comfortably in your gut. Then there’s the fact that Yeosang is slightly skipping, and that makes you more concerned than relieved. Because Yeosang barely skips, only when he’s being petty and is planning on pranking somebody. (Most of the time, it’s San.)

The faint vibrations of drums and guitars ring in your ears before you step a foot into the basement. Mingi is the first to acknowledge your presence, immediately dampening the cymbals before waving at you. That causes the other two guys to stop playing their instruments and turn their heads around. You greet San like you normally do, and when your eyes flit to the new addition, all brightness drops from your face.

“What. The. Fuck.”

Yunho cocks his head to the side almost tauntingly, eyes challenging. The corners of his mouth quirk upwards, though more with the intention of saying hah you thought you’d never see me again. “Hello to you too, honey. Looks like fate brought us together once more, eh?”

You blink multiple times to make sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you. To your dismay, they sure aren’t. It really is Yunho standing right next to an utterly confused San, and the bass in his hands just confirms it furthermore.

“Since when do you play an instrument?” you gawk. There’s no fucking way he could’ve had time to pick up music, not when his schedule was already jammed with basketball training and student council activities. Then again, that was his schedule in middle school.

“Since I was fifteen,” he drawls, unaffected by your outburst. “Any other questions, honey? Preferably something along the lines of how have you been? I expected a warmer welcome from you, not gonna lie.”

“What does Yeosang even see in you?” you splutter instead, disgust prevalent in your voice.

“Talent. Believe it or not.”

“Guys, no fighting,” Yeosang warns, but you’re too busy sending Yunho daggers and every pg rated curse under the sun your brain can wrack up.

Meanwhile, San shifts his weight on one leg awkwardly and asks in the background as your verbal dispute continues, “Are they exes or something?”

“Nah, just childhood enemies,” Mingi mumbles, clearly used to your interactions to the point where he’s becoming bored of it. He’s heard all the profanities too many times coming out from the same mouth, hence why he isn’t as disturbed as San is.

“Listen up, you piec—“ 

“(y/n), the camera. Help your older brother out, will ya?” Yeosang cuts you off urgently, the warning tone in his words hard to miss.

“Yeah, help your brother out, shorty,” Yunho snickers. Appalled by his blatant shamelessness, you scowl.

“I’m not that short—!”

“Still shorter than I am, shorty. Or do you prefer honey?”

World War III would’ve broken out right then and there if it weren’t for Yeosang’s death glare — you know, the look he has etched on his face whenever he means business and is willing to go so far and expose all of the nasty mishaps you’ve done in middle school, which is definitely something that should never see the light of day.

“I prefer neither,” you mutter after weighing the gravity of Yeosang’s wrath, avoiding any eyes before you set up the camera. Luckily, nobody further comments on that and eventually, everybody resumes practicing their parts of the songs.

Just in time as Mingi takes another short break to chug his water down, you stumble across a problem. “Uh, Yeosang? You should buy a new camera. This is still usable, but you might have to reset every ten minutes or so.”

A groan leaves him, followed by a shrill guitar riff, and you can see that he’d prefer death over spending money for a new one. “Can’t you just stay here during practice and reset it? You also get to hear some new tracks of the upcoming EP!” That fucker, he’s just too lazy to run forward and press a button every few minutes.

“I have to be on standby for the Block B ticket sale,” you lie. Technically, it’s not really a lie because you do plan on going to the Block B concert with Wooyoung, but 1) the ticket sale isn’t even today and 2) it’s always Wooyoung who buys the tickets. Yeosang doesn’t need to know that though. Any excuse is better than having to sit through practice and see if Yunho is as good as he claims.

Seems like Yeosang desperately doesn’t want to keep running back and forth to reset the camera as he suddenly says, “You can do it here too.” You would argue that the garage has its separate WiFi and only the band members have access to it, but then: “You can use my laptop instead.”

And letting you use his laptop is something he never does. You failed to submit an assignment in time because your own laptop broke down and he didn’t let you borrow his computer for even that.

“Fine,” you sigh in defeat. Yeosang thanks you with a smile so obnoxiously sweet it makes you gag. When all he gets in return from you is the middle finger, his demeanor drops and he mutters something inaudible under his breath, pointing to the small table at the side where all their phones and laptops are lying before he goes back to the others.

Once all four of them are in position and ready to play, you press the record button before flipping yourself onto the old patchwork couch Yeosang bought at a garage sale for only thirty quid a few years back. To your surprise, Yeosang’s MacBook is already unlocked, the default wallpaper of mountains and northern lights quite jarring to your eyes.

When given the rare chance to have unlimited access to your sibling’s devices, it’s self-explanatory what to do. You either a) go through all of their accounts and find as much dirt as possible about them that serves as good material for future blackmail purposes or b) sign them up to as many online subscriptions as possible that will make them go crazy. Unfortunately, that doesn’t work on Yeosang because 1) he doesn’t mind online subscriptions, and 2) he never checks his email account, hence why his inbox is filled with over 2000 mails, a third of them most likely unopened. On top of that, his MacBook is strictly meant for work, so if you really wanted to find out his most embarrassing secrets, your only shot is his phone.

That being said, you’re left with option c) which is checking out Block B’s concert merch since that’s the only sensible thing you can do right now. Forget productivity; that isn’t doable when Yeosang’s deep timbre is blaring in your ears along with the instruments. To be honest, you really enjoy Stereowave’s music and that’s on their music, not because your brother is the lead singer. You’ve enjoyed each of their performances and perhaps you’ve been indulging in the privilege of hearing their new songs first.

But now that Yunho’s involved, suddenly the prospect of having a new favorite band sounds tempting. What was Yuqi’s favorite band again? Day6? You should take a closer look at their discography.

As much as you want to mute the sound, from San’s riffs to Mingi’s drum solo, you fail to do so. One moment you’re opening the search browser, and in the next, your eyes are set on the group. They’re practicing like they usually do; fun etched on their faces as they lose themselves in the music. Yeosang is singing as if he was performing in front of a million viewers while San improvises a solo on a whim. Mingi messes up the beat for a split second after failing to catch his stick and somehow, your eyes have zoomed in on Yunho. It doesn’t take you five seconds to realize:

Yunho is good.

While he might not seem as fired up as the other three, he’s visibly relaxed. Just like Seonghwa, he plays smoothly and isn’t overpowered by the others, but he seems to have an easier time gliding his fingers across the fingerboard. The bassline is easy to filter out, not the generic pattern you can find in every second pop song, yet still compliments the other instruments.

He can play, fair game. However, that’s the least of your worries. You’re more attentive to the ratio of his hands to the bass. His hands are larger than Seonghwa’s by far, no doubt. That makes sense given his height, maybe an inch taller than Mingi. But Mingi doesn’t have that big hands. Doesn’t that mean that Yunho’s body is disproportional?

Before you know it, you drag your gaze from his shoes up to his legs and stop at his hands briefly, only to proceed upwards until you see the cocky smirk and amused eyes directed at you. All clogs in your brain come to a stillstand and despite that, that’s when you realize you’ve been 1) enjoying his music, 2) checking him out, and 3) checking him out and caught red-handed.

It feels as if you were living on the sun instead of on Earth as you burn up in embarrassment. Knowing there’s no way you can deflect what you just did, you quickly turn back to the laptop, the Google search bar staring back at you.

You’re about to type in something when the search history pops up, catching your eyes. A gasp leaves you but it goes under the music, everyone too immersed in their own thing to notice the prevalent horror settling on your face.

exhibitionism

getting off in public

best crowded places to have sex and get away with it

You blink, thinking that your sleep deprivation got the worst out of you and that you’ve finally reached the stage where you start hallucinating. Except, you know you’re not hallucinating. After going through the words again and again, you know that you’re really not fucking hallucinating and that your nonexistent sleep cycle isn’t as bad as Yuqi makes it out to be.

When you said you wanted to dig up dirt on your brother, you didn’t mean it in the form of his kinks. Money can’t buy everything, but how you wish it could so you could unsee that shocking discovery.

Since this is Yeosang’s work computer and he’s signed into his Google account, he must make use of the drive to save a copy of his ideas. It probably won’t amount to anything since he’s the walking embodiment of staying unbothered, but writing him a note on his docs about how he’s made your life worse by not clearing his search history is better than staying silent.

You click on the little icon on the top right corner, expecting to see Yeosang’s name right above the email address. But then you see Yunho’s name instead, and suddenly everything makes much more sense.

This was never Yeosang’s laptop to begin with.

To say you’re at a loss of words is an understatement. There’s no way someone could have as little self-awareness and leave their laptop unlocked, let alone Yunho out of all people. Then again, the last thing you expected from him was to play the bass and blend well with the rest of the band as if he’s always been the bassist of Stereowave and not the newly found replacement.

This is absolutely bonkers. But:

You could have fun with it. Maybe it’s for the better that money can’t buy everything.

Besides dozens of articles about semi-public sex and even a blogpost titled Shagging in Broad Daylight for Dummies, his search history of the last 24 hours consists of many forum links discussing the morality of exhibitionism, conspiracy theories, and hand care guides. You wheeze when you see the private playlist he saved on his YouTube account; a collection of videos about filing your nails properly and the best hand cream brands for dry skin.

Yeosang calls in for a break, and everyone’s grateful for it. San lets out a relieved noise as he places his guitar on the stand before catching the water bottle Mingi chucks at him.

“My arms are beat,” Mingi complains.

San sends him an incredulous look and snorts, “All you do is bang! crash! ppang! while my throat is fucked! And so are my legs!”

“Not my fault if you keep doing your high pitched oows! while jumping around like a— like a cricket!”

“A cricket? Are you serious?”

“I’m tired, okay!”

“Then that means we should call it a day and go home and rest, right?”

“Choi San, I think you’re onto something.”

“Absolutely not,” Yeosang deadpans, causing the bickering duo to pout in sync. “We have lots to do especially since Yunho’s now part of the band.” When all he’s met with is an attempt of cute puppy eyes that rather looks like a bad rendition of any horror movie featuring creepy dolls, Yeosang sighs, “I ordered chicken for dinner and yes, it’s on me.”

In an instant, Mingi and San’s faces brighten up and they’re celebrating as if they won a free cruise to the Bahamas. They don’t hesitate to envelop Yeosang in a bear hug, crushing the life out of him. A chuckle escapes you at the sight of your brother wringing for his sanity. Sometimes you wonder how on Earth those three guys are the same three guys who perform in abandoned warehouses, jamming out their punk rock songs while looking all edgy (in a cool way that has at least half of their fans thirsting after them).

Meanwhile, Yunho drops himself on the other end of the couch. Propping his right leg on the coffee table in front, he digs around in his pockets before pulling something out.

“Since when do you file your nails?” You pointedly raise a brow at him. Although your extensive research on his browser history already answered that question, you ask him just for the sake of it.

“Hand care is important, shorty,” Yunho replies, keeping his eyes trained on his fingers as he works the file around a nail. “If Kageyama Tobio files his nails, I can too. But enough with the small talk, what do you want?”

“I didn’t peg you as an exhibitionist.”

His hand stops moving. Yunho looks up at you, irritation written all over his features. “Because I file my nails...? A bold assumption, honey.”

There’s a reason why Yunho has always gotten away with pretty much everything. He’s a good actor who’s able to feign innocence at any time. His posture is relaxed, voice genuinely sounding flabbergasted that not even your shit-eating grin can throw him off guard.

You can’t, but your proof will do the job.

“I never said it’s because of your hand fixation.” You turn the laptop screen his way and once his eyes flicker on it and decipher the words, his face falls. Gone is the faux-confusion; as all color drains from him, his eyes look like they’re about to fall out of their sockets. “Is it really a bold assumption now, honey?”

Yunho inhales sharply when you scoot closer to him and put a firm hand on his left leg, his laptop now closed and long forgotten. Your fingers are placed too high for it to be friendly, skimming lightly on the inside of his thigh. Yeosang and the others are busy minding their own business but the chance of getting caught in the act is still there. The simple realization has adrenaline running a hundred miles an hour in your veins, and with the way Yunho clenches his jaw — a desperate attempt to fight the groan that’s threatening in the back of his throat — you’re not the only one who’s aroused by the setup.

Slowly, your hand inches closer to his growing bulge. Before you can dare yet another experimental squeeze, Yunho’s hand surges forward and holds your wrist in a vice grip.

“Don’t,” he snarls through gritted teeth, but it sounds sadder than it is intimidating when he’s sporting a boner right in front of your eyes.

You cock your head to the side, almost in a mocking demeanor. “You sure? Think about it, it’s a win-win situation. You get to live out your exhibitionist right here in front of your new bandmates, and I get the confirmation that you’re into it. But if you really don’t want to…” you try to retreat your hand but Yunho doesn’t let you budge, hand still enclosed around yours. That won’t do as an answer.

“Which one is it? Say it, Yunho,” you assert, narrowing your eyes. Yunho looks distraught, feverishly biting his lip while he’s internally fighting with himself, but he eventually chokes out a response.

“As long as nobody notices—”

“You either say you want me to touch you or not. I don’t want any roundabout stories.”

“Touch me,” he whispers defeatedly and the grip on your hand disappears completely. “But I swear to God if anyone realizes what you’re doing— hhnh—!” he cuts himself off with a low moan when you cup him over the material of his jeans.

“Yes yes, I get it. I don’t need Yeosang to know about this,” you dismiss. “And oh wow, you’re getting hard fast when I’m just touching you over your pants.”

“Just get to it.”

The snappish attitude causes you to stop dead in your tracks. “You think you’re in the position to tell me what to do? I can be mean too, y’know,” you start nonchalantly, a stark contrast to the way your heart is shaking in your ribcage. The power you suddenly hold is exhilarating. “I could just leave you like this, and then you’d have to try to cover your situation down there while practice goes on. How would the others react if they only knew your dick is hard? Probably won’t take them too long to find out since standing for a long time can be tiring, hm?”

Yunho’s head lolls back in response as he’s struggling to keep his eyes open. His breathing is uneven and the resulting moan that follows suit makes you smirk. You lightly smack the inside of his thigh, causing another wave of arousal to rupture in him. He chokes out a hushed ‘f-fuck’ and at this point, the constriction around his cock must be bordering painful.

“Who would’ve thought that the big bad Jeong Yunho is actually a submissive bitch who’s hungry for attention?” you ask gleefully, delivering another slap before stroking the area. “Who would’ve fucking thought you were a sub?”

“I-I’m not— shit, s-stop that, hngh— a fucking sub.”

“Yeah yeah, say that to yourself.” You rip your gaze away from Yunho’s flushed face to check if the coast is clear before targeting his fisted hands. He stiffens when you pry his hand open and bring three digits to your lips, sticking your tongue out to give kitten licks to his fingertips before pushing them into your mouth. You hum, suck, swirl your tongue around his fingers, giggling when all he does is stare at you wordlessly, unable to form any coherent thoughts. “See? Not even once have you put up a fight.”

That seems to snap him out of his daze. In an instant, his eyes darken and his jaw clenches.

“Oh honey, you know, you really shouldn’t tease me.”

You snicker, seeing through his bluff. “Wow, I’m so scared. What do you wanna do? Leave practice right now? Drag me to my room and pound me into the mattress?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“You could never, sub.”

Whatever strands of self-control were still residing in Yunho have turned to dust by now. One moment he’s towering over you in full height, looking down on your sitting form in bitter distaste, and in the next, he’s dragging you out of the basement, unaffected by the sudden silence and Yeosang, Mingi and San’s confused expressions.

Once you’re in the living room, Yunho wastes no time crowding you against the wall and crashing his lips against yours. The kiss is a messy clash of teeth and tongues, but it leaves you hot and lightheaded and aching for more. Yunho knows no limits and snakes one arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, the other hand fisting your hair. He tugs harshly and the sharp sting sends all your nerves into a frenzy.

“Bedroom. Now.” The sudden huskiness in his tone catches you off guard and you wonder when his voice has ever sounded so rough. You moan into the kiss, fisting his shirt as you stumble your way to your bedroom.

Yunho pins you against the door once you’re in your bedroom. His lips are addictive, just like the groans he slips in kisses and his hands roaming your body. He gets rid of your clothes until you’re left in your underwear, then forces a knee between your legs to keep them from closing. Your eyes roll back at the friction, growing needier and hotter when he presses his thigh against you harder. 

When you finally pull away, his eyes are hooded and his lips are red and swollen. There’s no trace of inhibitions left in him as he watches you like a predator. With horror, you realize that the tables have turned, and when he easily locks both of your wrists above your head with one hand only, that’s when you know you’re undisputedly powerless against him.

“Who’s the sub now?” he pants, eyes sparkling with glee.

“Still y-you.” The response sounds pathetic to your own ears, but you have too big of an ego to admit it out loud. Yunho doesn’t buy it either if his quirked brow wasn’t telling enough.

“Still in denial, honey? I see. Guess I’ll have to do more then.” His free hand reaches down to tug on the waistband of your underwear, only to let it snap against your skin. The slight sting is enough to render your knees into mush and set fog into your vision. He does it again, and then he actually tugs the fabric down and you finally grab his motives.

“You’re bluffing— y-you wouldn’t put y-your fingers,” you ramble, hyperaware about how dangerously close his fingers are. Just when you think he’s about to shove a digit in, he pulls away completely.

“You know, you keep talking about my hands. It’s always my hands this, my hands that,” Yunho says casually, giving his nails a quick glance before meeting your eyes. “Rather than me having a hand fixation, it’s you who has a thing for hands. My hands specifically.”

You don’t like how every word is true. You don’t want to acknowledge that he’s correct. Verbally, because your body is moving on its own and has betrayed you long ago.

Yunho taps on your bottom lip and you comply reluctantly, letting him shove the same three fingers you sucked before. Mumbling unintelligible words under his breath, he watches intently as you hum around him, eyes fluttering shut when he slowly moves them in and out of your mouth. A whine escapes you when he pulls them out for good, soaked wet with your spit.

“Tell me.” Yunho grins, “Tell me what you like about them. Or else I’ll leave you hanging.” He’s not lying and you know it. The look he sends you is enough proof that he wouldn’t hesitate to leave you high and dry.

You don’t like how he’s stringing you on like a rag doll. You don’t like how he’s stripping you off your dignity step by step. Strangely enough, you feel yourself leaking and wanting nothing but his pretty long fingers inside of you.

“I like how they, agh I— I l-like how—” you stutter, losing all levels of rationality when he suddenly circles around your entrance. Yunho urges you to continue and it takes up all of your brainpower to pick up where you left off, “—they’re so long and big and pretty—”

“So you have a size kink.”

You stare at him in disbelief. Now that, that’s something he shouldn’t have deduced. “W-wha— I don’t!”

“Seems to me that you have one though. You kept stressing how big and bad and tall I was after all.” You stiffen. Did you? Did you really? You don’t recall saying it that many times but it's hard to think straight when Yunho still has your wrists above your head and is looking down at you in a downright patronizing way. It leaves you trembling pitifully, feeling called out and feeling so, so small.

He really wants you to hit your lowest peak because he doesn’t stop there. “Who’s the real sub here? Is it really me? Or is it you who likes feeling so short, small, tiny.” His smirk widens when your breath hitches ever so slightly. “I fucking knew it.”

“You don’t know shit,” you bark back, but to no avail. Your credibility has diminished the moment he caught up to your kinks.

“Say whatever you want but that won’t change the fact that you’re tiny baby,” he pauses, takes his bottom lip between his teeth as he’s giving you a thorough once-over and then enunciates the next syllables with such clarity that forces time to stop, “My tiny, helpless baby.”

The pet name breaks you. It’s the final trigger that takes all your inhibitions away and the pathetic size of an ego that was left in your stubborn head.

“Please,” your voice cracks but that’s the least of your worries. You can’t move, can’t talk back, and won’t get anything in return. Yunho is right in front of you, finding satisfaction in your internal destruction and yet, after all of the things he’s slaughtered you to, he won’t give you anything in return.

“Just a little bit more, baby. I’ll give you what you want if you repeat after me; I’m your—”

“I’m your tiny, helpless baby who desperately wants you to fuck me.” Yunho is mildly taken aback that you were still able to think and get it right before he even finished his sentence. “Now get on to it, Yunho. Please.”

You’re sniffling at this point, begging for any kind of stimulation that shoots you to the stars. You’re fucking sniffling, and that’s all it takes for Yunho to manhandle you on the bed. A gasp escapes you, not expecting this turn of events at all. It all happens in a flash and the next thing you know, you’re on all fours, face buried in the pillow.

“Yunho, I t-thought y-you’d fuck me,” you complain, glancing behind to see what’s taking him so long. Your mouth waters at the sight.

“Patience, baby,” he says as he’s unbuckling his belt, taking his sweet time. You rub your legs together to ease the tension, but you can’t really say you’re not enjoying the show. Yunho’s lean, slightly defined, and once he’s only left in his underwear, you swallow heavily. There’s a large, dark patch on the fabric and the bulge seems more prominent than before.

If your mouth was only watering, you’re drooling by now. Yunho takes off his boxers, revealing his painfully hard cock, tip red and oozing precum. Just like the rest of him, he’s abnormally huge.

You have two thoughts. One: Fuck, you want him. Now. Two:

“That’s never going to fit inside of me.”

“Oh it will,” he says with such confidence it gives you shivers. “I’ll pound you into the mattress and you’ll take it all.”

He grabs you by your thighs to pull you closer to him before positioning himself right behind you. “W-wait!” you cry, heart suddenly feeling heavy in your chest, “D-don’t just put it in without prep— o-oh, hnngh—” your body feels like jelly when Yunho presses two spit-coated fingers past your entrance, stretching you out with finesse.

“I’m not that heartless,” he chuckles amusedly, right at the same time he curls his digits right against your sweet spot, sending you headfirst into bliss. “You’re so small you wouldn’t be able to take an inch without prep.”

You only whine into the pillow, arching your back as he continues his ministrations. Once Yunho deems you stretched out enough, he retreats his fingers and replaces them immediately with his cock.

The difference is like night and day. It’s like his fingers didn’t amount to anything compared to this. The high-pitched cry that escapes you is loud as you grasp onto the pillow for dear life.

“How can you be so big?” you pant. There’s no way he’s past four inches deep inside of you. You’re far from being filled, but your walls are already clenching hard around him.

“Bassists do it deeper for a reason.” The innuendo is tacky but in your current headspace, it sounds like the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard. Yunho stills his hips, letting you get used to him. “How are you feeling?”

“Guh—” he chuckles at your inability to form coherent words, let alone thoughts. “So big.”

“You’ll get used to it, honey.” He leans forward to pet your hair. “Tell me when I can move,” he adds gently, and you swear you could melt right then.

It takes you a moment to get your breathing steady, and then he pushes more of his length inside. Whimpering, you writhe beneath him, feeling as if you’re being torn apart. Meanwhile, he’s breathing hard through his nose, trying his damn hardest to go as slow as possible. At a certain point, Yunho stops pressing for more and pulls out ever so slightly before rocking his hips back forward. It starts out slowly, but he gradually picks up the pace and you lose yourself into him.

“Faster,” you moan, bending your back for an even deeper angle. “Hnngh, so full. Want m-more.”

“You were right, you can’t take me to the hilt.” Yunho readjusts his grip on his hips and you know that bruises are going to last until the end of the week. “God, you’re so fucking small that you can’t take me to the fucking hilt.”

Your vision turns foggy once the meaning gets through you. Now that he’s saying it, how much of his cock is inside of you? Half of it? A third? He’s stretching you out so well, filling you up so impossibly deep and that wasn’t even his everything?

“That’s not— want more of you, all of you,” you stammer, not realizing what you’re even saying. “Baby wants all of you.” God, you’re so drunk and desperate for his cock that you can’t refer yourself in the first person anymore.

Yunho reacts just as perplexed, eyes widening. His hips still once more, and though you’d want to shout at him to keep on moving, you don’t find the energy to move your head, or even lift a finger.

“So fucking greedy,” he growls, pulling out of you completely. Not even a second later, he flips you around on your back so that you’re facing him dead in the eye, and then he pushes back in. The new position has you gurgling on broken words as your arms flail around for dear life.

Yunho throws a leg over his shoulder, creating a deeper angle. You don’t know if he’s actually giving you more if he’s managed to force more of him into you. All you register is the messy squelch of liquids and your moans bouncing off the walls. You can’t even see properly, everything a blur and a mix of different colors.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper, sensing your demise nearing closer and closer.

“Then cum,” Yunho orders in between groans, then adds in a louder voice, “You hear that baby? Cum and make a mess out of yourself.”

Your orgasm crashes onto you in a big singular wave as you tremble under his frame, walls clenching around him tightly. His name leaves your mouth like a mantra as you continue to convulse. Yunho pulls out moments later, just to spurt white on your abdomen. His face is flushed and beads of sweat are forming on his forehead while he jerks himself dry.

It’s a miracle that Yunho hasn’t toppled on you once he slowly comes down from his high. The fog in your vision clears up gradually, but your limbs are as good as worthless. You won’t be able to move freely for a good day or two.

As you continue to blink at the ceiling, only finding the energy to breathe, Yunho grabs the box of tissues from your nightstand and wipes himself off before doing the same to you. His touch is gentle unlike before, and you’d thank him if your vocal cords were still functioning.

You’re about to drift to sleep until he suddenly leans down and pecks your lips. In an instant, you narrow your eyes at him and ask, “What was that for?”

“You had some cum on your lip. I wanted to taste too.” Yunho smiles cheekily and runs his tongue against his bottom lip, then grimaces. “It tastes... yikes.”

He cleans you up in silence before plopping onto the bed right next to you. No words are exchanged up until you say, “Yeosang is going to kill you.”

“He can’t afford to kill me. He needs me for the band,” he muses.

“He’ll still kill you.”

“I appreciate the concern, honey.”

“Just scram back to practice.”

“Don’t you want to go to the bathroom first?”

“I can do it myself.”

“Oh really?”

“... Yunho, help me on my legs and then scram back to practice.”

Meanwhile, back in the basement, the guys are waiting for their bandmate to come back so they can finally finish practice and then eat chicken.

“You sure (y/n) and Yunho are only childhood enemies? They’ve been going at it like rabbits if he isn’t back here yet!” San exclaims, throwing his arms up for dramatic effect.

Mingi can’t counter that because San has a point, so he whips his head to Yeosang. “Dude, you sure they’re not in a relationship? They have to be at least fuckbuddies! Or fuckrivals? Fuckenemies? Or…”

“I do not know and I do not care,” Yeosang says blankly, looking like he’s about to bang his head against the wall because he sure won’t walk into your room and curse his eyes for the rest of his life. Damnit, all he wants is to practice and get the band together; their next gig is only a few weeks away. “In fact, I want to unsee what I just saw and unhear what you just said.”

#blame 5*os for the creation of the band au idea #ateez smut #yunho smut #jeong yunho smut #ateez hard hours #atz smut #luvsmut #the ending is rushed oopsie but i never know how to end smut scenes ahahaha

[killemwithkawaii]

That feeling when your f/o is the main thing reminding you to take your meds even when you don't feel like it, the fear of dissapointing or worrying Sal or Larry usually kicks my ass into gear to at least take them before I go to bed. ~R

[CW: mental illness]

Honestly bro i fucking feel you on this- I do some very similar things when I'm not doing my best, and it makes me really happy to hear that you're using your f/o(s)/ selfshipping as a healthy coping mechanism, too! 🥺💖💖💖👏

(my f/o ted talk is under the cut bc it got long lol)

Imo one of the best things about having a fictional other is always having someone who understands you around to support you whenever you need them, however you need it. Of course, f/os are absolutely no replacement for an IRL support system, but real people have their own needs and limitations that need to be recognized and respected. Its unreasonable to expect anybody to carry your baggage for you 24/7, even if you are struggling 24/7. That's where f/os can help fill the gap! c:

Because they 'live' in your head, they can be there for you instantly any second of the day, they can listen the things you need to get off your chest without you needing to speak it aloud, they will hear your confessions/worries/complaints without judgement, and they know exactly what you need to hear when you need to hear it. In my experience, having an f/o has been incredibly helpful when I'm going through something rough mentally bc I tend to isolate myself when I'm at my worst. In those times, I've had some long internal dialogues with Sal when i didnt feel comfortable talking to a real person (because i have trouble expressing myself verbally, feel I may not be understood, am in need of very repetitive/frequent/specific reassurance, etc.). I've had some major breakthroughs in those conversations (because they were essentially long sessions of self-examination/reflection via daydreams), and can't count how many times I've used the thought of him being there to calm down when i was anxious or having a sensory overload just needed to be really petty and complain for a second.... He's pretty much become my live-in personal confidant, handler and hype-man on top of his imaginary bf duties and hes helped me so much over the past couple years that i got soft thinking about it while writing this and now im just sitting here with my feels like 🥺👉👈💘💘💘

TL;DR: I say that as long as it's a positive influence on you, embrace the self-love and use all the support your f/o can offer you!! 🤗💖💖💖

#k.e.w.k. answers #r anon #f/o #fictional other #selfshipping #tw mental illness #k.e.w.k. selfships #k.e.w.k. x sally #selfshipping positivity #f/o community #selfshipping community #again f/os are not a replacement for therapy meds or IRL personal support #but damn they can still help a lot 🥺🙏

[heyitsyn]

Manager!Seijoh IWA ROUTE

a/n: uwuwuwuwuwu my mans iwa chan :’)

IM A SIMP FOR IWAIZUMI HAJIME (27) ATHLETE TRAINER

uwu filo!iwa in this :)

and also, listen to lauv while reading this since i wrote this and that song was playing on repeat O_O and also this song

this is my self-request uwu

HES SUCH A POUTY BABIE BLS LOVE ON HIM

onwards we goooo

hihihihihihi yey im so excited for this yall dont even know

ANYWAYS

so,,,,

when iwa first saw you, he thought you were just a cute little thing

your shorter height, your puffy cheeks, and the wide eyes you had whenever you saw someone, or him, do a really cool spiking move

he initially thought of you as a cute little sister hes never had

ehehe that finna change

then the,,,, bullying thing happened

if youd like to read this part, its right here

when he saw you bloodied, all battered,

dear lordie he was finna break some ankles

ONG I WAS JUST TALKING ABOUT SANGWOO YET HERE I AM

like that image of you will probably stay in his memory until he dies of the ripe age of 200

ngl it kinda traumatized him a little bit of how tired and pained you look with the tears rolling down your face and the blood that was escaping your body through your wounds

god you didnt deserve any of that

you deserved the world and the universe yet some people dared to take away your worth

ooo he was so mad

miyo was,,,, hurt??

can i say that??

i dont wanna,,,, explain bara arms iwa hurting a girl so youre gonna have to imagine that for yourselves

but at the end when they said slap, he didnt just ✨S L A P ✨ her

he ✨ B R O K E   S O M E   A N K L E S ✨

oiks is actually scared of him after that

like oiks had to peel him off of her and towards the infirmary where you and the team were

‘IWAIZUMI HAJIME, STOP!’

oof the first and last time oikawa tooru ever said that full name

he was breathing heavy and he was so ✨ A N G R Y ✨ with what she did to you yet he hears your soft scoldings, telling him off for hurting a girl

he wanted to see you

like right now

iwa tore himself from oikawa’s grasp and ✨ N Y O O M E D ✨ himself to the nurse’s office

there, you sat on the bed with the others scattered either on other beds or on the floor 

you smiled at the sight of him and he walked towards you and engulfed you in his arms

‘youre okay now. im here’

he whispered and you buried your face into his chest, breathing in his unique scent

lavender mixed with peppermint

he refused to leave your side so he ✨ M A D E ✨ some room on the bed beside you to sit and he wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you close

you held his hand while oikawa talked to you and as you shamefully bowed your head

but you were forgiven and everything was all good until the third years really got into plan

makki and mattsun promised to handle it all as they had family in the justice field while oikawa would go and get the girl suspended

‘but what about me?! i want-’

‘iwaizumi, you literally hit her. it’d be best if you’re not involved right now as you were the only one who physically touched her in a harmful manner like that’

ong when it come to y/n, the meme team is replaced by the assassin team

he tried to fight but in the end, 3 overpowered 1 and he was forced to sit back and opted to comfort you instead

he made sure you were safe to walk home but that day, you were the one who asked him to spend time with him

just you two

like after seeing him seethingly enter back into the room, you reached out and held his hand in yours, eyes trained on your fingers fiddling with his

‘iwa-san,,,, you said you downloaded the new godzilla movie?’

you whispered but he could still hear you and his heart swelled at your meek voice

‘yea, i did. and my mom bought those chips you like’

your eyes flitted up to meet his eyes and a soft smile spread on your lips and there was this thumping in his heart

maybe that was the first time that iwaizumi hajime felt differently towards you

a smile that seemed to be differently perceived than the rest

and it wasnt for the whole team

it was for him

and him alone

the trek to his house was quiet but you would hum nursery rhymes or the songs you heard earlier in the radio while skipping every few steps and tightly holding on to his hand

iwaizumi’s olive eyes watched you still radiate energy despite being so hurt for a long time

they then trailed to your linked hands and he unintentionally squeezed it, only figuring out he did it when you looked up to him and squeezed it back with a smile

he wanted to do something to make you forget of what happened

he didnt want you to think about the cruelty and pain so he was going to make sure you would continue smiling 

thankfully, his parents werent home so he wouldnt have to explain why he has a bandage-covered girl with him 

iwa led you upstairs to where his room was and your eyes widened when you saw what was inside

tiny action figurines of animes like bakugo from boku no hero academia or a tiny pikachu on his desk

there was a large country flag that you didnt recognize and a few godzilla posters and volleyball players decorating beside it

however, besides those normal things you wouldve expected,

there were many polaroids

polaroid pictures that were everywhere with no specific layout pattern and just placed anywhere that had room

iwa watched as you dazedly walked forward and entered the room to move towards the wall by his desk that had the most pictures against it

from pictures of him and oikawa to the third years to him and his parents or just the sunrise and human silhouettes

your fingers reached forward and traced the picture of him and the third years when they were still first years and took a spontaneous trip to the beach

‘mattsun stole his dad’s car and drove us to the beach without a license’

iwaizumi’s voice answered your questions and you looked back, shimmering eyes

this room,,, wasnt just a normal, teenage boy’s room

this was a room that represented iwaizumi hajime

from his natural character description like his love for volleyball evident in the volleyball player posters to the underneath description that was hidden like his love for godzilla and his love of taking pictures of the people he cares about the most

it was all that made up iwaizumi hajime

your feet took you to stand in front of him, still standing at the doorway, and you stood on your toes to try and be eye-level with him

‘youre really cool, iwa-san’

you whispered and his ears turned red, not from the compliment, but by the close distance between you two

iwa clearedhis throat and ruffled your hair roughly, pushing you down slightly back to the balls of your feet

‘i already knew that, brat. now go and sit over there and be comfortable or whatever while i go get the food’

he hurriedly turned to hide his growing red face but you stopped him

‘iwa-san,,, ano,,, can,, i borrow a hoodie?’

you mumbled, nervously thinking he might refuse 

but he grunted a response, not bothering to turn around

‘take your pick’

you smiled and thanked him before bounding over to the wardrobe that was pushed against the wall across his bed that was against the corner by his window

inside had so many hoodies and there were also shirts that were hung up on the other half

they were all graphic tees that either had american bands or anime or game references

opting for a mint green hoodie that says ‘SONIC NYOOM’, you had an undershirt under your button up and as you slipped the bloodied long sleeve off, he swung the door open, eyes focused on the tray of coke filled glasses

then he looked up and almost dropped it at the sight of you,,, like that

‘OH MY GOD SORRY’

he shrieked and carefully but hurriedly backtracked back to the hallway

ofc you were shocked too but you quickly put the hoodie on and went to get him

iwaizumi’s heart was hammering in his chest and he was VERY red with embarrassment 

how could he see you like that?!

a girl who wasnt his shouldnt be seen like that by his eyes!

a touch on his arm reminded him of his position and he was still holding the tray but it was clear from the liquid in the cups that he was shaking slightly

‘iwa-san, its okay. i still had a shirt on so dont misunderstand’

you reasoned and he nodded, still not looking at you

the beginning of the movie was quite awkward as you both were sitting next to each other on the floor, backs against his mattress while the laptop played godzilla in front of yall

but it seems it was just him who was feeling this way bc you were intrigued at this weird monster that was squshing building under its foot and you continued munching on the food

iwa stood up and coughed

‘im going to take a shower’

you paused it and stared up at him, a chip halfway in your mouth

‘oh? you want me to wait for you?’

he agressively shook his head

‘no! its okay i watched it already. just,,,, watch it’

at the end, his words came out jumbled in his hurry to go and calm his heart down

you shrugged and unpaused the movie to continue watching

iwa spent his time in the shower, thinking and trying to think of stupid thoughts like the time oikawa almost choked on a peanut when they were in middle school to distract him of thoughts of how adorable you were

ONG HE WAS JUST SHOWERING AND INNOCENTLY DOING SHOWER THINGS

‘no, i said she was like a sister to me. and a sister she’ll remain’

okay ngl even though theyre not related, im worried yall would be like ‘iNcESt’ but bls a lot of people have tried to sibling-zoned people yet realized they liked them in THAT way

as he wrapped himself with a towel, he then realized

oh my god he didnt bring clothes

LMAO NOOOO IWAAAAA

iwa frantically looked around and he saw his mother’s sakura themed robe and he paused, arguing silently with him if he should wear it

well, it was either that or he went back into the room and showed you,,,,,, this

sucking in a sharp breath, he kept the towel around his waist and slipped his arms through the tight arm holes and he awkwardly tried to keep it tied since he was so much bigger than his tiny mom

what is happening

you saw the door opening and excitedly turned to tell him about this one scene when your voice died down in your throat at the sight of him 

here was iwaizumi hajime, ultra muscle buff man who gets abs with a simple glance of the gym, wearing an all too-tight pink, cherry blossom print robe that was so tight the tie around it was shaking to keep it together

‘dont’

he whispered and that snapped your remaining surprise to double over in laughter

‘its so cute! iwa-san, youre so cute!’

you shrieked and he growled and hurriedly went to to grab grey sweatpants and a shirt before running straight back to the bathroom

when he finally came back out, his face was still red and he was pouting as he sat next to you back to his seat

he could feel you staring at him while looking constipated as you held your laugh in and the second your eyes met, your giggles fell out

iwa rolled his eyes

‘yes yes let it out’

‘hehe, iwa-san, i didnt know you had that style’

‘it isnt! i didnt want to walk in here practically naked with you in the room!’

he growled and you nodded, still not quite believing it

‘hai hai. just say you like pink, i wont tell’

you waved and iwa felt offended

‘what do you mean ‘hai hai’?! its really not!’

your lips pursed to keep more giggles in and iwa growled again before lunging to grab your sides and tickling you 

of course being careful to not touch your wounds

you shrieked at the ticklish feeling and iwa laughed as you made weak attempts to push him off

‘huh? what was that? whatd you say? cant talk anymore, can ya?’

he teased

‘NO!!!! IWA-SAAAAN!!!!!’

you shouted in between your laughter and he finally let up when you squealed out your apologies and promised to never say it again

you breathed air into your lungs and sat back up to recollect yourselves 

iwa saw the strands that escaped your bun and they were scattered everywhere looking messy with your flushed cheeks and teary eyes

oh my god you were beautiful

he was so happy that you still kept that smile despite what happened and he was going to fight to keep it there

forever

it was about nearly the end when you finally realized how different iwaizumi’s hair looked

‘oi, iwa-san, your hair is not naturally spiky?’

he continued eating the chips while still watching the movie

‘what would you expect? even shittykawa’s hair is like this. did ya know that he wakes up extra early to curl it into that shitty mess?’

your jaw dropped

‘EEEHHHH???!!!!!!!’

later, you asked him how he does his hair for school and he blindly reached for the gel that was resting on his desk before tossing it to you

‘here’

you looked at it and flickered over to his hair and then you had the greatest realization

‘GODZILLA-SAMA!’

you pointed and he stopped eating, turning to give you a confused look

‘ha?’

you shrieked in an another round of laughter

‘IWA-SAN LIKES GODZILLA-SAMA SO MUCH HE DOES HIS HAIR AFTER HIM!!!!’

you doubled over to the floor, clutching your stomach and iwaizumi’s flustered expression made you laugh harder

he knew you were smart but,,, not this smart

you figured out his secret

the secret he’s hidden since he was practically a toddler

even his best friend, the guy hes known since he was born, never made the connection

yet here you are, figuring it out not even a year of knowing him

was this part of the many reasons he,, felt his heart beat for you?

oikawa was relieved that you had the bright twinkle in your eyes the next time he saw you and you were actively talking to iwaizumi in that early morning practice

‘oh? y/n-chan, is iwa-chan your best friend now?’

he tried not to sound jealous for his own best friend’s closeness to you and he added a teasing smile for extra measure

okay that hurted me a bit

iwaizumi snarled and blasted the volleyball towards his face before he could even yell or shout

‘iwa-san, dont do that’

you chided softly, small hands wrapping around his muscly arm

but iwa patted your head

‘deserving people deserve things to happen to them’

you rolled your eyes but smiled at him

‘hai hai’

the next week, iwa still kept a close eye on you in case someone else decided to mess with you 

but you told him that you swear youd tell him if someone did and he trusts you so he backed off a little

one day, he was eating lunch with the other third years in their classroom when you busted through the door, excitedly holding your phone

‘iwa-san! i figured out what country your flag was!’

he was halfway of shoving rice in his mouth when iwa looked at you

‘oh? you couldve just asked me though?’

you pouted and went to pull a chair from another desk to sit beside him

‘nooo. i wanted to work for that information. so you’re from the philippines, iwa-san?’

he nodded proudly

‘yep’

your eyes shone with interest

‘really?! you look japanese so it must be one of your parents. hey, iwa-san, which island are you from? i read about them and they have like 7641 islands-’

the others watched as you read through the article in your phone and iwa wasnt even following your words, instead staring at you with a dazed look and a lovesick smile

mattsun, makki, and oikawa exchanged looks of surprise because in all the years theyve known him especially oikawa, iwa was never interested in girls and such

he was a straight forward man with goals and straight sight to get them done with no distractions like relationships or love

yet here he was

slowly falling in love with you without even knowing he is

he continued to fall with the simplest things about you

from the perfume that you wore everyday to the way you would tuck your hair behind your ear when you were talking to someone

little quirks he used to miss was now being noticed even if you were right behind him and not in his line of vision

now, the boys were starting to see the difference of their precious ace

it was as if when he started to like you, they knew immediately by how he was acting

then one day during practice, you were late and they were all looking around for you and when they couldnt find you, they met back in the gym with nervous looks

iwa was already pacing around, a scary aura radiating off of him, and kindaichi, who went with him to look around the school, warned the others of iwaizumi’s worry

‘he was slamming doors open and he was walking so fast i had to run to even keep up with him’

then you busted through the gym door

you were actually picking up food for the team and sweets and you were held up when makki’s puffs were still being cooked

they rallied around you to make sure you werent hurt and you assured them but iwa pulled them away like picked them up and threw them off to the side and took you in his arms

iwa thought you were hurt and he was so worried something happened to you again

the hug was bone-crushing with how hard he was squeezing you but you felt his worry though and you freed your arms to wrap them around his neck

‘im okay, iwa-san’

you whispered in his ear and he nodded

‘let me hold you for a second’

he mumbled and you nodded

‘oi, theres food in the bags so make sure you eat it all. coach paid for it all so dont leave behind anything’

the mention of the food distracted them from you and iwa and they piled on top of each other to reach their food first

iwa was grateful that you distracted the others from seeing him being vulnerable towards you

‘i thought-’

‘shh,,, you have me right here, right now. safe and sound’

you knew how much seeing you all battered messed him up and his attempt of making you forget about it has been

and his worry of you being gone without no sign of where you went will forever be there and he will always have that thought in the back ofhis mind

the next time you came over, you actually met his parents

since you went home early before, you didnt catch his parents when they came home around 10 minutes after you left

but this time, they were already home with his mom cooking dinner while his father was sitting on the dining chair reading a newspaper

iwa walked through the door, shouting he was home, and you did the same thing to be customary

oof his parents were surprised

his mom turned around to share a look of surprise with her husband

sure they havent seen tooru in a while but they were pretty sure his voice wasnt that high pitched

right?

‘hajime, did you hit tooru so much you ruined his-’

then his mother stopped talking at the sight of you holding iwa’s hand tightly when yall stepped around the corner

you sheepishly smiled at them and bowed your head in greeting

oh my

so this was why iwaizumi hajime-san was really really really handsome

his parents were freaking good looking

like his mother was aphrodite with her flawless melanin skin and doe shaped eyes with a mole under her left eye

and his father was like ares, so handsome yet still manly and his appearance was a special type of good-looking with his buffness and ruffed appearance

‘iwa-san, i didnt know your parents were gods’

you mumbled, still staring at them

iwaizumi choked and coughed, flustered

‘oh my!’

his mother placed a hand over her mouth

‘hello’

his father stood up to walk in front of you and held his hand out

‘i’m hajime’s father’

you let go of hajime’s hand to shake his own with both of your hands

‘really nice to meet you! i’m l/n y/n! seijoh volleyball manager! first year!’

you introduced then stepped aside to fully bow 90 degrees

iwaizumi thought it was so cute of how flustered you were at meeting his parents

‘ay nako! nak, i didnt know you had such a beautiful girlfriend!’

she squealed and hurriedly went to stand in front of you and gently grasped your arms to stand you back straight and took a good look at you

‘youre so beautiful, iha. nice skin, pretty eyes, ang ganda!’

even with your research of tagalog, you didnt quite understand what she was saying

iwa noticed your slightly confused expression and he laughed, tucking his hands in his pockets

‘sorry, my nay speaks in taganese when she gets excited’

‘t-taganese?’

‘tagalog and japanese’

you nodded in understanding

it was time to put your basic reserach to test

‘hello po’

you greeted her and nervously took her hand and pressed the back of it to your forehead before slowly lowering it down and letting go

her wide eyes made you think you did something bad or even offensive!

‘i-i’

‘HAY NAKO, HAJIMEE~!’

she shrieked 

‘YUNG-!!! YUNG-!!!’

okay im terrified

iwa noticed his mother’s malfunction and gently wrapped his arm around her shoulder and veered her back to her kitchen

‘sorry about her, l/n-chan. its just,,,, hajime hasnt brought home a girl before. and you doing that mustve done it in for her’

you worriedly watched hajime calm his mom down with a smile and talking to her hushed

in their perspective,,,

‘shes so nice, nak! marry her, okay? shes very pretty and she made an effort to please your nanay, so go and marry her!’

ohmylord im nervous

initially, iwa only wanted to go and hang out with you and watch a movie

not have a full dinner with his family

lmao i shouldve told you that youve been friends for months now

his mother cooked sinigang and adobo and more filipino dishes, adding even more when she saw you were joining them

the dining table was covered with a large plate full of food and you were so fascinated because this was a side of iwa that you wanted to know more about

‘wow!’

you said, not thinking, at the deep-fried fish that still had its eyeballs intact

iwa genuinely thought you would’ve shyed away from it in disgust but your eyes were glistening with genuine interest

‘iwa-san! youre so lucky you get to eat this stuff!’

you told him, looking over at his direction

while mrs iwaizumi was lading in the soup into the big bowl, mr iwaizumi was sitting at the dining table, watching your interaction and hajime telling you what each food was and your noises of surprise

he watched his son laugh when you said the palabok reminded you of the orange boy hinata 

and he also watched his son look at you so lovestruck and exactly like how he looks at his wife

soon, his mother finished and they rounded the table before saying a quick prayer to bless the food and digging in

‘so, what do you want to start with, iha?’

mrs iwaizumi asked and your wide eyes looked around

‘hm, im not sure. whats your favorite iwa-san?’

you looked to your right towards hajime who was busy eating and stopped before pointing his lips towards a direction

‘that one’

‘hah?’

you asked 

mrs iwaizumi laughed at her son’s actions

‘sorry, l/n-chan, my son has adapted my traits. he was pointing to this, adobo. do you want some?’

‘yes please’

the smell made your mouth water and you started to tuck in

maybe it was your managerial instincts, but you used your napkin to wipe hajime’s lips and he was also used to this and turned his head to make it easier for you then he went to grab the water jug and re-fill your glass

once it was done, you both silently went back to eating

his parents watched his exchange and it was like watching a married couple taking care of each other

‘so, l/n-chan, you said you were their manager’

mr iwaizumi started and you nodded, wiping your lips

‘yes. i have been for a while now and please, call me y/n’

‘hajime actually told us he had a new manager for his team and tooru told us too. but we didnt know you were a girl. its just so interesting for hajime to bring you home as he has never really had any female friends’

mrs iwaizumi’s comment made you chuckle and iwa’s eyes widened in embarassment

‘nay! of course ive had female friends! ive had friends from all genders!’

he reasoned but you teasingly smiled at him

‘ah, im not really surprised. iwa-san doesnt exactly have the appearance that girls are brave enough to approach’

he sent you a betrayed glance

‘hah?! what’s that supposed to mean?!’

you shrugged, going back to your food

‘im just saying that you always have this intense look in your eyes and youre always frowning. but its cute so its fine. and besides, i dont think theyve seen you laugh since you dont really smile a lot, iwa-san’

‘but you’ve seen me smile!’

‘eung. but its only to me. if they knew the stuff i knew like you being a godzilla fan or your collection of succelents, theyd see you like oikawa-san’

‘HAH?! YOU SEE ME LIKE SHITTYKAWA?!’

mrs iwaizumi held her husband’s hand on the table as they watched you both bicker and tease each other with a smile

hajime has always been on the rougher side of things and he doesnt really have many close friends other than the team and even then, tooru is the only one he can really be himself around

yet here you are, bringing out the boy hajime really is and making him laugh, a sound his parents dont really hear outside the house

and your eyes

god, your eyes held admiration, life,,,, and you might not know this yet,, but love

her eyes trailed her son who teasingly headbutted you and you faking a surprise and doing the same

then you heard his father’s cough which brought you back to where you were and the situation and the people that were there

you felt embarrassment creeping up inside you and you bowed

‘im sorry for acting like that, iwaizumi-san. i-’

‘no, dont apologize, darling. please, dont’

her soft smile made the nerves in you ease and hajime’s father winked at him and he knew exactly what his father was trying to say

after dinner, you volunteered to wash the plates but they veered you away from there and towards the living room 

‘oh my god, pops! stop her!’

hajime whined because he knows what his mother was going to do

she was going to show him his baby pictures

you sat on the beige couch and watched as she reached under the coffee table and revealed a few albums that had iwaizumi hajime written on the cover

‘now, y/n-chan, hajime wasnt always this pouty. in fact, he used to always have a smile on his face and laughed at the littlest things! like right here! a leaf fell on him and he-’

stories of his childhood was exchanged throughout the night and you were laughing so hard that tears were falling out of your eyes while hajime wrapped your shoulders with his arm and he would squeeze you tightly whenever you made fun of him

‘oh dear! iwa-san! you-!’

you didnt finished as you continued to laugh and he sighed

‘nay, can we go eat dessert now?’

he asked his mother and she was beginning to feel sorry for him so she smiled and nodded

‘okay. hajime, come help me’

‘iwaizumi-san, i can-’

‘no, y/n-chan. dont you worry your pretty little head about anything and just look through more of these pictures’

hajime followed his mother to their kitchen before she stopped and turned around

his mother’s height was around 5′1 so she had to look up to meet his eyes and her hands were clasped around his biceps

she is definitely beautiful and he cursed at how little he got from his mother other than her skin color

mrs iwaizumi married her husband and immigrated to japan to have a family and your polite action from earlier moved her as she hasnt experienced that in nearly 2 decades

‘nay, shes,,,, just a friend’

he reasoned, a wobbly smile to cover up his want for that title to change

yet mothers def knows best and saw right through it

she gave him a firm look with furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips

‘nak, dont lie to yourself. i raised you to never tell a lie and lying to yourself is considered lying to someone. she’s not your KAibigan, shes your kaIBIGan’

now, hajime knew a little bit of tagalog as his mother made sure he was able to at least speak to his relatives back home

so he got a hint of what she was saying yet was confused 

then he realized it

his blush creeped up his neck and he chuckled, ducking his head low to avoid his mother’s eyes

‘nak, listen to me. papunta ka pa lang, pabalik na ako. youre still growing and you may be confused right now, but make sure to think wisely and dont live with regrets. nanay doesnt want you to go through it all by yourself since she knows how hard it was. so please, listen to me and pursue her. shes special, hajime. she makes you so, so happy. i see it in your eyes, her eyes, god has fated you together. i feel it’

now if a filipino mother actually tells their son to go after a girl, thats a pretty big thing as its known that mothers are the hardest to convince and are fiercely protective of their sons, especially if its an only son, but mrs iwaizumi literally tells hajime to go court you because she sees how happy you make him and is willing to let hajime go to you 

definitely his mother’s words stuck to him and as he walked you home, he was busy thinking that he was quiet and you were worried as he would be talking right now

‘iwa-san? you okay?’

you asked and he blinked, taken back to reality from his daydream

‘hm, yea’

he answered to look at you

hes been pining for months now and he slipped his hand into yours, holding it tightly

uwu if you want to see iwa moments with y/n, read through the seijoh manager series as theres a lot of them in there

he wanted you yet, he knew it would be selfish of him to keep you in the future

he would be a college student while you’re in your 2nd year

would you want to be so far away from him?

could you handle it?

‘yanno, iwa-san, your dad told me something interesting’

you suddenly said, squeezing his hand and kicking rocks while looking up at the night sky

‘what was it? something embarrassing?’

he immediately feared that they told you that story when he was still potty training and he fell straight into the toilet 

‘hmm,,, no. he told me that he met your nanay when she was a high school student and he was a in an intern at your lolo’s company’

iwa listened and he had a smile at how you said the tagalog word for grandfather

‘he said she almost ran him over by her bike and she fled but they met again when she visited your lolo. through that, they became friends and then she confessed to him. apparently, he declined because she was younger than him, although just 3 years, and he was leaving for his own country in a few months so he didnt know if she would wait for him’

were,,,, you reading his mind?

iwa knew of his parents story yet with you telling it, it sounded a million times more interesting

‘yet she promised him. thats it, just a promise. that she would remain faithful to him, she would keep herself for him and when she finally graduates, she would go and find him and they could be happy together. he said it was the longest 3 years of his life yet when he saw in the airport, he felt like the wait was worth it. because he gets to hold the embodiment of happiness in his arms for the rest of his life’

you finished and he hummed

‘times have changed, y/n’

‘even you?’

you stopped walking and he naturally stopped too

‘would you wait for me like he did if i promised myself to you? if i promised you that despite the few years of waiting, i would still be yours and remain yours until we’re ready to be together?’

WHAT IS HAPPENING!!!!!!!

iwa’s heart was drumming in his chest and he wanted so desparately to look at you in the eyes but you were making that impossible as your head was bowed and your eyes were fixed on the concrete you both stood on

‘of course, i would’

your head snapped up and e/c clashed with olive eyes 

‘i would wait for you. we may,,, be young right now. and they might think we’re,,, being impulsive. but i dont care. because right now, all that matters, is you and me. we can think about the consequences later, but right now, i just want to kiss you’

he admitted, red ears seen by the moonlight

your body shook

‘do it, no balls’

well,,,, he has the balls

and under the moon, at 8:34 pm, iwaizumi hajime kissed you

OML THIS REMINDS ME OF THAT SEIJOH SHORT WHEN HE WAS TALKING TO OIKAWA AND HIS NEIGHBORS ARE LIKE ‘AH SHITE HERE WE GO AGAIN’

it didnt come as a surprise to the team when yall announced your relationship

well,, you both actually didnt tell them outright until like weeks later

what can you say?

you and iwa are very private people and you dont really like to show off in public

even though yall lit rally are stuck to the hip and he does things that he doesnt even think hes doing but he is totally doing

you were only caught by,,, guess who

mrs iwaizumi

it was weeks when she met up with mrs oikawa bc theyre totally best friends and thats why their sons are best friends

she told her of her son’s girlfriend and how sweet you were and how mrs oikawa should be jealous that her son doesnt have a girlfriend like that and the standards for oikawa’s future girlfriend was raised just by that teasing

oikawa literally came into after school practice after a phone call with his mother, fuming

you were talking to kindaichi and yahaba with iwa beside you, arm around your waist totally not obvious guys

and yall just saw an angry oikawa stomping towards yall

‘y/n-chan, iwa-chan, why the hell did my mom just call me and tell me that im not allowed to bring home a girl if she doesnt have h/c with s/c (skin color) and e/c and h/m (height measurement)?’

you shrugged

‘oikawa-san, i’ve never even met your mom before’

but iwa had a hunch

‘ahh,,,, my mom mustve been bragging to your mom. yanno how they are’

oikawa shot him a disbelieving look

‘IWA-CHAN! ITS BAD ENOUGH THAT YOU GOT A GIRLFRIEND AND I DONT! BUT ITS WORSE THAT YOUR RELATIONSHIP IS AFFECTING MY FUTURE ONE!’

he ranted, completely unaware that he just outed your entire relationship to the team

tbh they werent even surprised

like they were all ‘damn now shes taken. but cant say i didnt see that coming’

they took it pretty well too

they know how iwa is and they literally respect this mans and if anything, out of the whole team, he is the best candidate for your boyfriend

dating iwa is totally normal and yall just have increased touches?? like i dont know how to explain like he’s constantly holding your hand or arm around your waist or shoulder etc

literally nothing changed

you still have dinners at his house and iwa also knows your family and all that

and the most important thing is,

he kept that promise

even when he was literally at the other side of the world,

he still remained yours and you kept your own promise and waited patiently for his return

OOOOO TIMESKIP IWAIZUMI HAJIME (27) ATHLETE TRAINER

a little girl with bouncing dark brown hair was giggling as she maneuvered herself around the tall people

a shout from her parents and little sister was only making her run faster until she crashed into the legs of the person she’s been looking for

his blue jersey was similar to hers and she raised her arms up with a bright smile

‘uncle!’

she yelled and he chuckled before hoisting her up to his arms

‘ah, reyna-chan, didnt mom and dad tell you to wait for them? look! tala-chan is crying because you left her’

she followed his finger to her little sister, who was in her father’s arms, crying and reaching out for her

‘nee-chan!’

she screeched

finally, her parents were there and you were scolding her for running off

‘reyna, just dont do that again’

you said and she nodded, pouting and holding her uncle’s thumb

‘thank you, tooru-san. i dont know what i would do if she got lost’

oikawa grinned then gently patted the hat-covered head of the newborn baby girl that was strapped to your chest

‘hehe, its okay, y/n-chan. after all! uncle is always there to save reyna-chan!’

she shrieked when he held her up and hajime shook his head in his antics

‘where’s the others? i saw them in the stands but-’

he was cut off when he heard the shouts and yells from the other side that could only belong to your boys

‘woooo!!!!’

kindaichi’s voice echoed through the place and mattsuhana were rushing to greet their goddaughters

tala shyly accepted the arms of mattsun while makki was squealing quietly when darna was holding his finger tightly as she slept

‘taka-san, wanna hold her? she’s easier to hold when she’s sleeping’

‘oh can i?’

his eyes held the stars as the 11-month-old raised her fist then lowered it back down, sleep still heavy on her

‘waaa~ darna-chan is growing really quickly’

kunimi whispered, peering over his senpai to look at the baby whos eyes kept fluttering

you chuckled while looking at oikawa and him playfully bouncing reyna

‘tooru-san, congratulations on your win. it seems you’ve beaten hajime this time’

you complimented and the brunette smiled brightly at you, adjusting the little girls in his arms

‘ei, y/n-chan, i’ll beat him next time, and next time and the next time!’

every time he said ‘next’ he gave his goddaughter a kiss on her cheek making her giggle

your husband was pouting at the reminder of japan’s loss and you reached over to wrap your arms around him causing hajime to turn his head away from you

‘aww, my 4th baby is sad now’

you cooed and cupped his face delicately on your hands making him sulk and whine

the others, watching the scene, continue to be surprised at this side of their captain that remains to only be caused by you

‘ugh, nearly a decade later and theyre still sappy’

yahaba gagged and watari slapped his back

‘let them be happy’

‘come on! im in the mood for spaghetti! you like spaghetti, tala-chan?’

‘eung!’

mattsun cheered with kindaichi and she raised her hands to share the same energy

once everyone was situated in a restaurant and ordered, small talks were shared around the table of the past

‘haha, spaghetti is how your baba found out about you, tala-chan’

yahaba’s comment made the walking group laugh at the memory of seeing the video you sent in the seijoh group chat

‘i wanted to be creative with my second child since my firstborn was revealed by this loudmouth’

oikawa winced at the indirect diss at him

‘y/n-chan! i was really excited to find out i was going to be an uncle!’

‘youre already an uncle, bakakawa!’

hajime has toned down the insults to keep it pg for the children

‘but-!’

they started to argue, the oldest daughter looking disinterested as she sees this happening or hearing it whenever her dad and uncle video chat

‘it took me forever to find a ‘prego’ pasta sauce in the grocery store like i dont know why. was there a shortage?’

you complained, remembering the frustration

your fellow first years snickered at you and kindaichi prodded fun at you

‘is that why you just outright told him you were pregnant the day you found out?’

you rolled your eyes and watched makki and mattsun and tala watch the youngest as she wiggled her fists in the air and was awake enough to babble ‘makki’ over and over again

that was her first word and although she is now able to say a few words, she still repeats her first word over and over again

‘we had a fight and it just came out so of course i didnt have time to prepare!’

you defended and hajime finished his antics with oikawa just as you said that

‘what-what was your words again? ‘i really want to push you off the roof right now but i want my baby to meet their bastard father first?’‘

you gasped at that regretful statement and punched him in the arm

‘hajime! stop!’

you whined and covered your face with the sleeves of your his hoodie

‘hehe, y/n, you should do that again’

kyotani teased and you glared at him

‘shut up kyotani’

eyebrows were raised

‘eh? are you more hormonal?’

‘do you realize you already have 3 daughters?’

‘iwaizumi-san really wants to have a volleyball team family’

‘at least wait a year and a half, you animals’

‘so,, like hes that good huh?’

hajime growled and leaned over to intimidate but you snarled and jumped on your feet, being held back by the arms by kindaichi and hajime to stop yourself from leaping across the table to kill yahaba

‘keep talking like shite and i’ll make sure none of you become the godfather of this baby’

okay what

one, did you just curse

and two, this baby?!

‘im big sister again?!’

reyna ruined the surprised silence and then chaos ensued

‘WHAT!’

‘BABY?!’

‘THIS BABY?!’

you just realized what you said and smirked at the chaos you created and sat back down, leaning on the back of the chair and smugly taking a sip of your water

‘oh the power i hold in my hands’

you teased and oikawa pointed at you

‘when! how long!’

you looked at hajime who was so shocked that his eyes glazed over and a passerby wouldve thought he was dead

‘apparently 3 months’

oikawa started counting and his eyes widened at that thought

‘you-! you stayed in argentina! in my house! my house-!’

‘yep. both of them created under your house’

what 

!!!!!

hajime fainted 

oikawa screamed

a/n: okay i admit i got a little too carried away with this one. i just love filo!iwa and this was mostly written in his pov bc cmon we all know we love iwa and fell in love w him the moment we saw him

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!! headcanons #aoba johsai #aoba johsai x reader #aoba josai x reader #aoba josai #seijoh #aoba johsai imagines #aoba josai imagines #seijoh imagines #seijoh manager #haikyuu manager #haikyuu!! manager #aoba johsai manager #aoba josai manager #seijoh x reader #aoba johsai headcanons #aoba josai headcanons #seijoh headcanons #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!! fluff #aoba johsai fluff #aoba josai fluff #seijoh fluff

[spencerspecifics]

Okay yes hi hello this is me gracing y’all with my writing Bc I’ve had this idea forever!! This is going to be multiple chapters, here is chapter two. Enjoy :)

~

Technical Analyst (ch.1)

~

Short description: Spencer works as a technical analyst alongside Garcia and Kevin, though he hasn’t ever really worked directly with the BAU team, he works more in filing and researching. But when Garcia goes on vacation leave, and Kevin is busy with his own work, Spencer steps up to help- and that’s when he meets Derek Morgan.

———————————————————————

Spencer hated technology. He hated computers, tablets, cell phones, he hated it all. He hated everything and anything that isn’t on printed onto paper. So how the fuck did he end up as a technical analyst- whose entire job was based around proficient use of technology? In very short, budget cuts.

He originally worked in domestic terrorism, though he never fit in well there. He was a good worker, fast and able to do a lot. But his coworkers never let him feel included. He would hear them make plans without him, ignore him in conversations, only reaching out to him for his great memory to help solve a case. It was dehumanizing. He was just a brain for them, nothing more.

Then, the budget cuts came. And he got removed from the team, as he had the least amount of hours in the field- which wasn’t his fault. The rest of his team always forced him into the research position, so while they were off chasing the bad guys, he was stuck researching with a computer he doesn’t trust.

So yeah, he wasn’t an asset to them. But the bureau knew a mind like his in general was an asset, a fountain they’d like to keep a tap on. So they made work for him. It was mostly menial. He would assist with intense cases when necessary, but even then it was just research. No one knew what he would be like in the field, because they never gave him the chance.

Spencer tried not to think about how unfair this was, how stupid and purely tedious it was. He would rather be working as a T.A. at this point- which wouldn’t even be that bad. At least he gets heard and seen then.

~

Spencer’s normal day consists of going from his apartment to the bureau building, to directly into his cramped little office that was about the size of a jumbo walk in closet. A nice size to store clothes, but not so nice when you have to have a person, a desk, a chair, three computer monitors, two filing cabinents, a trash can, a fax machine, and a printer all crammed in there.

Yeah, his workplace was entirely too small. Thankfully it didn’t impact his ability to work, though, most the time Spencer finished his work quickly; and would end up reading. Spencer didn’t venture out from his office that much at all, (he always brought his own coffee so he didn’t have to worry about bugging the field agents.) the exception to leaving his office was to go across the hall to Penelope Garcia, his only sort of friend that he had at work. She was always so bubbly, it was a breath of relief for him to go see her- she reminded him of all the positive things, he definitely couldn’t do the job without her.

Not to mention, she had to train him from starting point zero. Spencer hated technology, after all. So he never made an effort to learn coding, hacking, how to re-route and track things. He knew nothing like that, hell, he struggles with his cellphone turning on sometimes.

Thankfully, she was able to get some sense into him, and he was pretty good at what he could do. Though he was still working out python coding, he was enjoying the learning process of using technology.

That being said- he still despises technology, and he hopes that once he leaves the job, he can throw away his very unnecessary but work mandated laptop.

~

Spencer made his way into the bureau building, messenger bag slung over his shoulder awkwardly as a thermos of coffee was held tightly in his right hand, while the left one reached for the door handle to enter. He got in no problem, security didn’t stop him anymore, thankfully. Though in the beginning, they did check him constantly, verifying that he belonged there. After all, he looked young, and he definitely didn’t belong in the bureau building. But then again, Garcia didn’t look like she belonged there either.

Security just made presumptions about people, he shrugged that thought off as he made his way to the elevator. Thankfully no one else was in there, he pressed the button for floor six, and the elevator doors shut.

The elevator whirred to life, taking him up to the sixth floor slowly. Thankfully today was a slow day, there wasn’t really any important case he had to work on. (Not like he ever really got given cases to work on, anyways.) So Spencer was hoping he would be able to finish his work quickly, as he had some books he brought with him that he wanted to read and re-read before the day was finished.

The elevator dinged, a signal it had reached its necessary location, before the doors finally slid back. He stepped out, taking his usual left down the hallway immediately. Forward through the glass doors was the bullpen with the agents who worked in the BAU. And god, what he wouldn’t give to be a field agent, working as a profiler. That’s why he wanted to join the bureau, and yet he was so close- his office only down the hall. But he was simultaneously so far, not being trusted by all the bureaucratic bosses, who didn’t know if he would be a good agent to warrant being put out into the field.

He hated it, but he tried not to think about it as he reached his office, Garcia’s door was shut, she was on vacation, or so he had heard. Spencer pulled on his office door, entering with ease as he moved into the cramped workspace.

Spencer sat his messenger bag down onto his desk, sitting himself down in his office chair and taking a minute to breathe in and out before continuing. Spencer hated this job. It was mind numbingly boring, he was so close to quitting. He knew the bureau would fight tooth and nail to keep him, however, but if that was the case, why not give him a better job- he didn’t want a nicer office, he wanted to help people.

He sighed, today was just one of those days where he was extra mad about not being treated right, he tried to ignore this thought process as he got ready to work; setting his coffee down by his computer mouse to his right, setting his messenger bag onto the floor next to him, pulling off the scarf that was wrapped loosely around his neck and hanging it over the back of his chair. Now he was ready for the day.

~

Penelope didn’t mean to forget to tell the team that she was going to be gone- she assumed they knew. At least Hotch did, all the rest of them knew was that she was going to take a week off to relax, they just didn’t know when (she had too many vacation days saved up, so she had to use them or lose them. She chose the former.) It was just a total brain fart moment on her part, so while she decided to hit up her favorite stores, spas, and websites; the team had no idea, they assumed she was holed up in her office, hacking away at whatever she normally does.

This would only show itself when Derek needed her, calling her office number and it going to voicemail “Hi, this is Penelope Garcia with the FBI and I’m too awesome to come to the phone right now, if it’s an urgent matter please call Aaron Hotchner-“ yeah, Derek hung up his phone by then, deciding to call her personal cell.

“Hi, hot chocolate!” She answered cheerfully, the sounds of people talking and laughing could be heard in the background, which Derek took note of. “Babygirl- your work phone sent me to voicemail, where are you?” Garcia was quiet for a second, before practically blowing Morgan’s eardrums out; “Oh- damnit! I knew I was forgetting something!” “Care to fill me in?” He asked her curiously, “Yes-“ Garcia sighed before continuing on, “Sorry. I’m taking those vacation days Hotch told me I had to use or else I’d lose.”

“So you’re not at the office.” He stated, “That I am not, I’m sorry I forgot to tell you! But my pal Spencer Reid should be covering for me.” “Spencer Reid?” Derek asked, unfamiliar with that person, “Why not kevin?” “Ugh, I don’t know- he’s doing that thing where he’s actually busy with other work for once. But Spencer is good, I taught him everything he knows- and I’m pretty sure he’s got three PhDs, so yeah, you replaced one genius with another- so don’t worry!” “Okay, well...” Derek took a second, “You sure I can ask Spencer about everything I’d ask you?” He meant work related, within being able to hack and get everything that Garcia would be able to get. Because Morgan knew that her talents were very special, and having someone else replicate them seemed near impossible, so he was a bit hesitant to trust someone new.

“Oh yeah- he’ll find everything easy peasy lemon squeezy. Don’t worry yourself, sugar.” “Okay, thank you mama. Have a good week of rest.” “I will! I have an appointment for a spa, and oh my god Derek- they do a seaweed wrap thing, isn’t that crazy?” “So you’re gonna get rolled up like sushi?” “No! Ew! Don’t compare me to raw fish!”

The phone call continued for a bit after that, as Derek wasn’t in an urgent matter. It was just a filing day at the office, before he hung up he asked where Spencer was, though; “Oh, he’s in the office next to mine, across the hall!” Garcia told him happily. Derek had thought that was a storage closet, but he didn’t tell her- instead thanking her and hanging up.

Now to pay this mystery computer whiz a visit.

~

Spencer was in the middle of re-routing a bunch of information that Garcia needed to send to her boss, Aaron Hotchner. Spencer didn’t share the same boss, since he was technically working in a more basic division of the bureau, he instead answered to Strauss- which was a royal pain in the ass, but he always turned his work in on time, came in when needed, he had never had to face her wrath yet, thankfully.

Spencer typed away, trying to get all the data to get to Hotchner as quickly as possible so he didn’t have to wait, though it wasn’t crucial the work did get completed right now. Spencer just liked to get things done.

A knock sounded Spencer out of his methodical typing, it wasn’t Garcia, obviously. And he knew Kevin was in a meeting right now with some IT people over his keyboard acting funky (Kevin could fix it by himself, but office administration forced him into talking to IT.)

“Yes?” Spencer asked curiously, turning around in his office chair, because he had no clue who it was that could be interrupting his work. The door pushed open, revealing a tall, classically handsome, muscular man carrying some files in his hands. Fuck, that would be Spencer’s luck. An attractive guy swooping in and making his IQ of one hundred and eighty seven go down to sixty in two second flat

“Hi- you Spencer?” The man asked, stepping forward into the cramped office. Spencer stood up instinctively, “Yes, I am. How can I help you?” The man handed the files over awkwardly, “I’m sorry, I usually ask Penelope Garcia for this but she’s on vacation and she referred me to you- I just need these put through VICAP, I’m not too familiar with the system as a whole, ‘cause Garcia usually handles it.”

Spencer nodded, taking the files and looking through them briefly, there were nine of them. “I’m sorry, I know that’s a lot of work to do... I’m sure I can figure it out myself-“ Derek started, doing his best to apologize. Little did he know Spencer could get this done within an hour or so.

“Oh no- not a problem at all, this should only take me about an hour, two at most, but that’s a generous estimate.” Derek raised his eyebrows, “An hour or two? Garcia usually finishes up this many files within three or four. How are you able to get this done faster than her?”

“I have an eidetic memory, which helps me recall anything that I read. I can read these files once and put all the information into VICAP knowing it’s accuracy is one hundred percent without having to double check, that cuts down my speed by half per case file.”

Derek looked confused and shocked. Yeah, Spencer could understand why. “Sorry, um. That’s a weird explanation, but it shouldn’t take me as long. I’m assuming you’re out in the bullpen?” Spencer asked him, putting the files down atop his keyboard.

“Yeah, I’m Derek Morgan with the BAU.” Derek finally introduced himself, reaching his hand out. Shit, this was Derek Morgan? Garcia has mentioned him a few times to Spencer, saying he’d love him “oh he’s so handsome, but so sweet and loving, like the hottest man on earth- I’d marry him in a heartbeat, but we don’t roll like that, Y’know?” That’s how she described him once, and of course Spencer remembered that word for word. Spencer felt like it was just his luck, that his only work colleague was best friends with a man so attractive that his mind isn’t working fully.

Not to mention he was in the BAU, Spencer guessed he was, since Garcia was their technical analyst. But still, it would be just his luck to know this insanely attractive man was part of the team he wanted to belong to so bad. Spencer wasn’t sure how to respond as he kept his composure. After all, yeah, Derek was attractive. But they probably wouldn’t speak again after this exchange. It wasn’t worth Spencer thinking about him, or how Garcia described him.

“I’m sorry, I don’t shake. But it’s nice to meet you, I’ll find you once I’m done. If you need anymore help, feel free to let me know.” Spencer told him, looking back at the files on his desk as a distraction away from this hot guy that was just standing so calmly in his office, as if Spencer ever had any visitors into the cramped space besides Garcia and Kevin.

By the time spencer looked back up, Derek’s arm was back down by his side. “Okay, thank you.”

~

Derek was surprised by their exchange, to say the least. How did he not know about this genius before? How was he not more well known, a memory thing, three PhD’s- that would be a useful asset? How come he was hidden away in a closet sized office? He had to know more. Even if it was nosy and stupid.

Normally, he’d call Garcia and ask her if it was about an employee. But in this case, he couldn’t. And he couldn’t go to Spencer, that would be weird.

So, he did the next best thing. He asked Hotch.

~

He knocked slowly on Hotchner’s door, hoping he wasn’t going to tell him to mind his business and not ask about employee facts when they definitely were irrelevant.

Derek was smart though, he figured out a foolproof way to play this. So when Hotch said, “Yes?” He came in, starting his plan into motion.

“Hotch, where’s Garcia?” He asked him, as if Derek hadn’t immediately checked up on his babygirl when he couldn’t find her. “Oh,” Hotch started, setting a file down that he had been looking over, “She took some vacation time.”

“So, who am I supposed to go to for computer help?” Derek asked, “Well,” Hotchner started, matter of factly, while he reached for a thin, unopened file on his desk. “We have a new guy helping us. Kevin’s busy with helping the child abduction unit reset their computers, as well as he’s in an IT meeting right now, so we have..” Hotch stopped, looking down to read the name off the file; “Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m sure he’ll be just as good.”

“Hotch. No ones as good as Garcia.” Derek pointed out, Hotch shrugged. “Maybe not. But this guy has a glowing personal history- and Garcia told me she taught him everything he knows.”

“What’s his personal history?” Derek asked curiously, stepping a bit closer but still trying to play nonchalance. “You know I’m not able to disclose that. You can go ask him for yourself.” Derek sighed. Of course Hotch wasn’t gonna tell him shit. He should’ve expected this. But sue him, call him hopeful. He was hoping he could’ve gotten some information on this mysterious doctor.

~

Derek made his defeated way back to his desk in the bullpen. And Emily, whose desk was directly across from his, immediately noticed his slight annoyance at Hotch. So she asked in a hushed voice as soon as he sat down;

“Did you get yelled at by Hotch?” Because in her mind, that was the most logical explanation that made the most sense. Derek just shook his head as a response, “No,” he clarified, “I was asking about our Garcia fill-in, and Hotch wouldn’t tell me anything.”

“Garcia fill-in? She’s gone?” Emily asked confusedly looking back to the hallway that led to Penelope’s office, as if she’d magically appear. “Yeah, but just for the week.” Derek explained, “She’s using those vacation days she had saved up. And Kevin isn’t our standby, ‘cause he’s busy. Instead it’s some new guy.”

“Who?” Prentiss asked, this time she was curious. And as if on cue, Dr. Spencer Reid came through the glass doors, and into the bullpen, carrying Morgan’s stack of files.

“Him.” Morgan pointed back simply as a response as he waved Spencer over.

~

To say Spencer felt out of his element by being in the BAU bullpen was an understatement, he felt like a fish out of water. Like he was suffocating and everything around him was too much.

He purposely avoided the bullpen, first reason being because he didn’t have any work with the BAU. But the second reason was he knew if he stepped in, he’d be more upset that he couldn’t be on the team. And the last thing he wanted to do was make his job worse for himself.

But, this experience was an outlier. And though Spencer can remember almost anything and everything, he planned on doing his best to purposely forget all of this. Every last detail.

He wasn’t going to let himself remember how there were field agents with real life guns holstered at their sides, how they were all sitting casually, looking over cases and drinking coffee, how they had the title of SSA (he only had SA, which he still was bitter about.), and then how at a moments notice they could fly away in a jet. How astonishing their work is, how jealous he is.

But Spencer entered through the glass doors nonetheless, looking around quickly before seeing Derek wave him over. Derek was sat at his desk, talking to a woman whose head was turned away from Spencer, all he could see was that she was his desk mate, and that she had black hair.

Spencer made his way over at a brisk pace, he just needed to get in and out. If he stayed for too long, he’d let himself remember to much.

“Hey, I- I got these into VICAP no problem,“ Spencer started as he handed Derek the case files, “But I noticed some errors on the date stamping on when you found the unsub so I corrected it myself, I hope you don’t mind.”

Derek shook his head casually, “Not a problem at all, I have a habit of messing that up. Thanks doc.” Fuck, ‘doc’? Spencer hadn’t been called ‘doctor’ in months, let alone ‘doc’. This was turning into a tailspin moment for him as he smiled awkwardly, feeling a blush rising to his face, he wasn’t sure what else to do. But he wanted to get out of there.

Thankfully, the woman with black hair introduced herself, as once he had rounded the corner to see Derek, he also saw her face. She was pretty, and had bangs. “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Emily Prentiss.” She reached her hand over to shake Reid’s expectantly, “Oh I-“ Reid started, hands down at his sides, he wasn’t going to move them.

“He doesn’t shake, Prentiss.” Derek explained casually, “Oh,” Emily said, dropping her hand down, “Sorry! It’s still good to meet you, though. So I hear you’re covering for Garcia?” She asked Spencer, who nodded as he pushed a piece of hair back behind his ear.

“Yeah she’s taking vacation time, and Kevin is currently busy with helping the child abduction unit. So I’ll be you technical analyst for the next week or so.”

“I’m sorry, but how long have you been with the bureau? You look really young. I don’t mean to be rude I’m just-“ “You’re really asking him the rudest possible question, though, huh?” Derek joked to her, and she just smacked him on the arm lightly before turning her attention back to Spencer.

“No you’re fine to ask I- um, I’ve been with the bureau a year and a half, but originally I was on the domestic terrorism field unit.” He explained shortly, he didn’t wanna go into how he got on the bureau to begin with, or how he left the domestic terrorism unit. All he wanted to do was have this conversation end, or else it would just be that much harder to forget.

“Domestic terrorism? So how do you end up doing technical analyst work?” Derek butted in curiously, up until now it has been Prentiss asking all the questions.

Spencer stayed quiet for a moment, before finally responding, “If you need anything else, my office is next to Garcia’s. It’s been nice meeting you, Emily.” All he gave to Derek was a curt nod before walking out at the brisk pace he had entered with.

~

“Wow, well you fucked that up.” Prentiss spoke to Derek once she saw Spencer exiting through the glass doors, and turning down the hallway.

He sighed and rolled his eyes at her, “I’m just curious about him, can you blame me?” Emily just chuckled softly in return, shaking her head as she turned her chair around to face him more head on.

“Are you curious about him because he’s cute, or because he’s replacing Garcia for the week?” Derek blinked at her in surprise; “I never said he was cute.” He protested, more confused than anything else.

“You didn’t say it, but your body language did. You think he’s cute. You called him ‘doc’ and he almost blushed, and I have a feeling you’re gonna try and call him ‘doc’ again to see that same result- and you watched him the entire time, even if I was talking.”

“You think random bureau agents are cute all the time, what’s it matter?” Derek rebutted, trying to deflect and ignore, because Prentiss wasn’t making sense. Derek wasn’t attracted to Spencer, he didn’t think he was cute. Spencer’s level of attractiveness had nothing to do with his curiosity.

Derek did have a right to be curious for other reasons, anyways. This guy was replacing Garcia for a bit. It made sense Derek would wanna know more about the guy, even if he was or wasn’t attractive.

“Yeah, I find agents cute. But I don’t go asking Hotch about them.” Prentiss said with a smirk, Derek just shot her a glare. “I asked Hotch because he’s replacing Garcia. And I’ve not heard of the guy before.”

“Whatever you say, man.” Was all Emily replied with as she turned back to her work, Derek just rolled his eyes at her again before turning to his own computer.

Okay, so he knew Spencer was in domestic terrorism. It couldn’t hurt to just search it up, right? It wasn’t anything classified, he’d be able to see it, Derek hoped. He wasn’t meaning to be nosy, but he was just so curious and confused. He just had to know more.

———————————————————————

#fanfiction #criminal minds #cm #imagine #prompt #spencer reid #derek morgan #moreid #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #Penelope garcia #kevin lynch #Dave rossi #Jason gideon #jennifer jereau #jeniffer jareau #jj #Tara lewis #luke alvez #matt Simmons #multiple chapters #og shit #Spencer Specific Fics #fanfic #oneshot

[trulycevans]

the first date

[gif not mine, credit to original owner]

Warnings: drunken antics, and some swearing

Summary: anon requested

“how about chris x reader where they agree to go on a first date to see a football game and she shows up wearing a jersey of the other team🥺🥺😂😂and chris is shocked, not realizing that she might be a fan of the other team but his shock quickly changes to adoration bc she is cute in her cap and a little too big shirt🥺😂”

Words: 1.7k

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

[A/N i don’t know much about american football as i’m from the uk so i’ve had to use google a lot for this, if anything is factually wrong then pls dont hate me]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

R I N G. Your phone blared in your pocket as you pulled up outside of the busy sports bar. Upon seeing the bustling street filled with drunk fans you silently questioned why you’d offered to pick your cousin and his friends up. You answered the call through your car’s handsfree as you found a parking space. “Heeeey [Y/N],” Your cousins slurred words spoke through the line. 

“Hi bud, I’ve just parked up, are you outside?” You questioned putting your car into park and relaxing slightly. 

“No, we’re just having one more drink, can you come in?” He hiccuped on the other end of the line. “You know I have work tomorrow right?” You questioned him and he giggled. “Yeah, but you’d do anything for me right? I mean we’re practically siblings,” You rolled your eyes as you turned your car off and put the phone to your ear. 

“Fine, I’m coming in. Where are you?” He directed you to a table at the back of the bar, and you shuffled through the crowds of football supporters in vibrantly coloured jerseys and scarves. You finally managed to find your cousin who gave you a large hug on arrival. “There she is!” He grinned, “My big cousin!” He exclaimed, swaying you both from side to side. “Hi bud,” You smiled pulling the blue Indianapolis Colts baseball cap from his head and putting it onto your own head. “Did they win?” You questioned, as you pulled away from his embrace, muttering hellos to his drunk friends as you sat on a bar stool next to them. A chorus of ‘yeah’’s followed your question. 

“I’m gonna go and buy the next round, what do you want?” Your cousin asked, attempting to stand up but stumbling as he did almost knocking into another person at a neighbouring table. You mumbled an apology to the group and helped your cousin to steady himself. “Bud, the likelihood of you getting served anything else is slim to none right now. I’ll go and buy you something. Just sit down.” He placed a sloppy kiss on your cheek, “You’re the best cousin ever you know?”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. You owe me, bud” You chuckled before heading over to the bar to order more drinks. You waited patiently to be served feeling sorry for the poor bartenders having to work that shift. 

“You don’t strike me as a Colts fan,” You heard a voice beside you, you turned your head to see one of the men from the neighbouring table leaning against the bar. It was only now when you actually had a chance to look at him that you realised how attractive he was. His brunette hair poking out from underneath a black NASA cap, a trimmed beard framing his face, and sparkling blue eyes dancing over your face as you looked at him. 

“Oh I’m not,” You blushed subconsciously reaching up to touch the hat you’d stolen from your cousin. “I’ve just come to pick up my cousin, he’s the Colts fan” You explained, and he nodded. “Ah so that’s your cousin back there?” He questioned, both of your eyes scanning the table where your cousin was swaying drunkenly in his chair, eyes closed and a cheesy grin plastered on his face. 

“Unfortunately yes,” You laughed, “We’ve always been close, but never agreed on the team we should support, it’s been a consistent argument over our childhoods.” The bartender finally reached you asking you what you wanted, and as you opened your mouth to order the man next to you interrupted. “Let me get this. I insist.” He smiled. 

“The man insisted,” the bartender shrugged at you. “Uh ok... three Budweisers and just a Diet Coke... You sure you wanna pay?” You asked the man as the bartender reached into the fridge behind him for the drinks. “Yeah, just come and sit with us for a little while at least, bring your cousin and his friends too.” You nodded at his words. 

“I’m Chris by the way,” holding out his hand for you to shake. “[Y/N]” You responded by taking his hand into yours.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Sitting with Chris and his friends had caused you to stay at the bar way longer than you had planned, your eyes widened as you peered at your watch some hours later. “Shit, we’ve gotta get going. I've gotta be up for work in five hours.” You downed the last of your drink and tapped your cousin who had dozed off on your shoulder. 

“He’s not waking up any time soon, [Y/N].” One of his friends laughed, “He’s impossible when he’s like this.”

“Need some help getting him to your car?” Chris questioned, a wave of relief passing over you at his offer. “That’d be so amazing, thank you.” The pair of you stood up and a chorus of farewells were exchanged between you and Chris’ friends. You and Chris hauled your cousin up from the chair and carried him out, one of his arms on each of your shoulders. Approaching your car you cursed at the big yellow ticket that was slapped under your windscreen wiper.

“Shit! I forgot this was short stay parking only,” Leaning over to pick up the ticket from your window, struggling however as your cousin's weight crippled you. 

“I feel like this is partially my fault,” Chris stated apologetically as he hauled your cousin into the backseat of your car and stepped to the side so you could manoeuvre the sleeping man into a comfortable position. 

“No, I should have remembered to move my car...” You sighed, “I should have paid more attention to the time. 

“If I hadn't invited you to our table though you’d be home by now. Let me make it up to you?” He kept his gaze on your back as you strapped your cousin into the seatbelt.

“Make it up to me how?” You questioned, standing back to shut the door, glancing at him quickly. 

“Well I have tickets to the Patriots v Eagles game if you wanted to come with me?” He scratched the back of his neck nervously causing you to smile.

“Like a date?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I mean it doesn’t need to be a date, but it can if you want it to be?” His flustered demeanour was extremely endearing and part of you was wondering how he was even single when he looked that good. 

“I’d like to go on a date with you Chris” You ran a hand through your hair, 

“Great, can I get your number then?” He asked and you obliged, passing your phone over to him so he could stamp his digits into it. You heard a groan in the backseat of your car, causing the two of you to laugh. “I’d better get him home before he pukes in the back of my car, it’s just been valeted.” You tiptoed to press a light kiss to the cheek of the taller man, being close enough to smell the mixture of beer and sandalwood that radiated from him. “I’ll text you,” You whispered. 

“You’d better” He grinned cheekily at you. 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

chris 🤍: I’m just leaving my house now, see you soon X

You grinned foolishly down at your phone as you read the text message. Peering in the mirror you straightened the Eagles baseball cap on your head and tugged at the slightly oversized jersey. Ever since that evening at the bar you’d been texting Chris non-stop, even FaceTiming a couple of times where you’d met his dog, Dodger, and he’d had the chance to talk to your cousin now that he was sober. 

A knock at the door had you racing through your apartment only to hear your cousin get there first. 

“No. Freaking. Way!” He exclaimed, causing your eyebrows to furrow together, when finally reaching the door your confusion was replaced with dread as you gazed at his blue Patriots hoodie and the NASA hat you recognised from the bar. 

“You’re an Eagles fan?” His eyes almost bulged out of his head as he looked at the turquoise jersey. 

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it” Your cousin winked, patting your shoulder in mock comfort as he passed, “Good luck” He whispered, loudly enough for Chris to hear. 

“I guess I should have checked what side of the stands we were sitting in,” You nervously laughed, folding your arms over your chest. You watched his expression soften and he reached his hand up to move your arms away from your chest, intertwining your fingers with his. 

“Well,” He hesitated. “As disappointed as I am that you’re not a Patriots fan, you do look incredibly cute in that get up.” You flushed a bright shade of red at his words as his eyes scanned your body, “Come on give me a spin” He teased, using your intertwined fingers to spin you around slowly. 

“Chris, don’t be mean!” You pouted as you were facing him, and he laughed, his eyes scrunching closed.

“I’m not being mean... But that jersey is drowning you-” You playfully smacked his chest. “I do have some Patriots clothes in the trunk of my car if you’d prefer to not get heckled in our seats?” 

“That sounds like a good idea,” You sighed, taking the cap off your head and throwing it on the side table by your door. You shouted goodbye to your cousin and walked hand in hand out to Chris’ car wear you exchanged an Eagles jersey for a Patriots one. “You have a personalised jersey?” You giggled, looking at the EVANS emblazoned on the back.

“Don’t tease, football is kinda my life.” He grinned as you pulled on the jersey. You fixed your hair in the reflection of his rear windows, feeling Chris’ eyes studying you carefully.

“I didn’t think you could get any cuter, but you definitely suit blue more than green.” 

“You’re walking a fine line here, Evans. Shut up and get in the car before I change my mind” You playfully rolled your eyes, sauntering over to the passenger side of the car.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

taglist

@onetwo3000​ @tvckerlance​

#chris evans #cevans #chris evans imagines #chris evans one shot #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #cevans x reader #cevans imagines #cevans imagine #marvel imagines

[dokidokey]

somehow, the stranger who sat in front of you managed to snag the position your supposed date was supposed to be in after you got stood up.

fluffvember track 02: coffee shop

word count: 1,467

warnings: getting stood up, swearing

notes: you and kams talk shit about monoma (i am so sorry monoma stans (T＿T) pls forgive me) ALSO I HAVE 200 FOLLOWERS? THANK YOU SO MUCH OMFG I DO NOT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THAT INFORMATION ALL I CAN SAY IS THANK YOU (no milestone event tho bc ehe fluffvember has me busy ಠ~ಠ)

FLUFFVEMBER MASTERLIST

You’ve been here for fifty minutes, you take note mentally, watching as the quaint coffee shop starts to fill up with more people, all the seats getting occupied. It’s a good thing you came here ten minutes early for your date, but it seems you’re getting stood up as it is now 2 in the afternoon now and they haven’t responded to your messages that are delivered.

So with what’s left of the shame in your system, you stand up and go for the line at the counter, scanning the menu glowing above. It’ll take a whole lot of convincing to have you drink hot coffee, and espresso didn’t get along well with your taste buds that you had it, so you settled for an iced caramel macchiato instead. You look back at your table to check if your things are still there and also to see if your date has arrived.

There is not a shadow of a blond Monoma Neito in sight so you sigh, shoulders slacking and a pout settling on your face. What a shame you wore this cute outfit today only for it to go to waste.

You carefully stated your order when it’s your turn, anxiety bubbling up in your chest, wondering if you pronounced macchiato right. Is it ma-key-yato? Ma-shee-yato? Ma-chi-yato? The girl at the counter didn’t look at you weird so you suppose you said it right. You’re asked to move to the side to wait for your order so you lean patiently beside the counter. You’re quite surprised you still have patience left in you after being here for almost an hour without anything from that embarrassment of a date your friend has set you up with.

Your frown worsens as you take in the interior of the of the café. The warm earth tones make it feel really homey, the strong smell of coffee beans lingering in the air. The ambience is really light and easy with their soft, lofi-like tracks on the speakers. It’s such a cute place, a pretty concept for a first date, but here you are alone with a coffee you weren’t too sure how to pronounce.

When your names gets called, you accept it with a smile, the cold bite of the beverage a welcome feeling to your fingers. You walk idly back to your seat, a tight-lipped smile on your face as you check your phone and it’s still the time that greets you. No message from a Monoma in sight.

You slack against your seat and proceed to fiddle with the plastic straw in your hands. You send him another text asking him where he is － one last attempt to actually try for this god damned date because the other person clearly didn’t want to. When your message doesn’t go through, you’re seconds away from screaming inside the coffee shop.

That is until a body steps into your line of vision and you follow the pattern of the button on their polo until you see a blonde boy standing in front of you.

But he is not Monoma, you note. His hair is a lot brighter than the ones of the boy from the photos your friend had showed you. He even has a black thunder-shaped streak on the left side, which is cute, you guess.

“Hi,” he starts, the coffee in his hold shaking a little. “There aren’t many seats and all are taken and you seem to be alone so I was thinking if I can sit here? If only it’s okay though! Or－ wait, sorry, is this seat taken?”

You gingerly taps the point end of your straw on the table before smiling up at him (or at least you hope it’s a smile and not a grimace.)

“Yeah, uh, sure. It’s all yours.”

“Great, thanks!”

You watch closely as he pulls the chair back and sits down, placing his cup of coffee on the side. It’s better to be cautious of people you interact with rather than ending up on an unfortunate situation later. But this boy seems harmless as he awkwardly pats his thighs loudly with an equally awkward smile to go along.

“I’m－ I’m Kaminari,” he stutters nervously, “Kaminari Denki.”

You purse your lips and nod once. “I’m Y/N,” you reply, not bothering to tell him your full name.

“Nice to meet you!”

You watch him as he unwraps his straw and stabs the lid open, happily taking a sip of his beverage.

“What’s that?” You ask curiously.

He raise his eyebrows in acknowledgment before releasing the straw from his lips and saying, “espresso.”

You immediately scrunch your nose.

“What?” Kaminari laughs. “You don’t like it?” You shake your head no. “Too bad. What’s it you got then?”

“Caramel macchiato.” Then you add, “iced.” You don’t know why you decided to hastily give out that information, but he can do whatever he might with the information.

“You’re like Shouto,” he says suddenly, his chin on his palms. “He’s a classmate from UA; likes his soba cold. His father is Endeavor.”

You hum, but the mention of the Number One hero is not what caught your attention.

“UA, you say?” He nods. “Do you happen to know a Monoma Ne－?”

He almost chokes on his espresso at the mention of your coward of a date. “Monoma Neito, blonde. Yes. He’s an asshole.”

The corners of your lips fly up at his words.

“Yeah, well, I just got stood up by an asshole then. He sure lives up to his nickname, huh?”

Kaminari laughs. “Where do you go and why do you know him? I don’t think I’ve seen you around UA before.”

You lean back on your seat. “Oh, I－ I don’t have a quirk so－ Yeah. My friend just set him and I up.”

Your acquaintance pouts at that.

“Dang,” he says as though he’s disappointed to which you raise your eyebrows at.

“What are you doing here though?” You ask, picking up your straw and removing the wrap.

He shrugs. “Saw someone alone so I thought I’ll keep them company. Didn’t know they got stood up though, so I guess I can proxy as the date,” he grins at you.

You scoff at his bold attempt to imply that this is (lowkey) a date. You throw him the crumpled paper from the straw and chuckle. “Nice try but you’re only here to sit and not replace my date.”

Kaminari shrugs again. “At least I tried.”

You roll your eyes but you didn’t try to hide the smile you’re sporting. He isn’t that bad, you think. He makes it easy to like him. Not intimidating at all. Frankly, out of the two of you, he looks like the easier one to intimidate.

“Anyway,” it’s your turn to put your chin in your palm as you lean on the table. Your attention is stolen for a second when the bell above the glass doors of the café rings. You turn to him again. “Tell me more about Monoma.”

“Like I said, he’s an asshole.”

You snicker. “I know. He proved that true the moment he decided not to show up.”

Kaminari shakes his head and drums his fingers on the wood. He’s got pretty fingers, you notice. “He’s annoying as fuck. I have this friend, Bakugou, and it’s like he makes it his mission to annoy him. Annoying Bakugou is literally the worst thing ever because he gets riled up easily,” he sighs. “And he won’t hesitate to attack you.”

“Tell me he laid one on Monoma at some point,” you pleaded.

He nods enthusiastically, laughter bubbling out of his throat as he picks up his drink again. “He did. Monoma left with chafed clothes. It’s a miracle he wasn’t injured heavily.”

“What do they say?” You muse. “The bad grass never dies.”

Kaminari laughs at that, nodding his head at your statement. “It was a good thing though,” he smirks at you. “If it didn’t end up like that then I wouldn’t have met you because then you wouldn’t be set up with a date with Monoma.”

You gasp at his words, dramatically laying your palm on your chest. “That’s not nice of you to say it was a good thing I got stood up.”

“On my part, yes, ’cause I got to meet you.”

You don’t know how he does it, really. The way he’s just smoothly, you don’t know, trying to get to you is very impressive, you’re not gonna deny that. You’re slowly accepting the fact that you really just got stood up. And the cost?

“You’re a smooth talker, aren’t you?”

“I try my best.”

“Sure. So when’s the next date?”

It was a week later, in the very seat you first met each other.

#did i just write dialogues #it’s so easy when it comes to denki ToT #kaminari denki #kaminari fluff #kaminari angst #kaminari denki x reader #kaminari headcanon #bnha #bnha fluff #bnha angst #bnha headcanon #bnha fluffvember #fluffvember #I MISS MY BOY KAMS (；д；) #THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 200 #I AM CRYING #i am (ಥ﹏ಥ)♡