“hear Me Out”

Last Man Standing

Summary: You make a bet with Daryl.

Pairing: S9! Daryl Dixon x F! Reader

WC: 2.1k

Warnings: pwp, smut: fingering, masturbation, public sex? Not really but they’re in someone’s house, pet names (baby, pretty girl, darlin’), kissing, gripping back of throat, panty sniffing, pinv, quickie, mdni, if I missed anything let me know not proofread

Notes: this was requested by @wishyouloveme. I am so so so sorry it’s taken me so long. Writers block and real life troubles are a bitch. Thank you for your patience, and although I know this isn’t my best work, I hope you enjoy.

When you first met Daryl Dixon, the rugged archer of Rick Grimes’ group, you had been face to face with a walker who was just looking to eat your face. One shot of a piercing arrow through the back of the skull, and Daryl had single handedly saved your life. As repayment, you invited him and his group to join your home — Alexandria.

Since then, you’ve stuck to him like glue.

The Grimes’ group settled in nicely at Alexandria, and it wasn’t long before you struck up a relationship with Daryl.

That had been six months ago, and the two of you were still in what the other towns folk called “the honeymoon phase”. PDA was high, fights were extremely low.

Currently, the two of you are cuddling in your shared bed, when you ask, “Wanna make a bet?”.

You watch as Daryl turns towards you, questions brimming in his blue eyes.

“Wha’ kinda bet?” He grumbles, his voice raspy. Your thighs clench at his voice, heart racing with what you’re about to propose.

“The naughty kind. If you can go a… week,” you begin. “Without touching me — no holding hands, kissing, or having sex.”

Daryl huffs, “What?”

You swallow thick saliva coating your tongue, rubbing your palms on your jeans. Daryl’s staring at you with such intensity.

“You heard me. If you can go a week, we can do that thing you want to try.”

The thing, being a position Daryl wanted to try that you weren’t too sure about. It had seemed too complicated when he explained, but the more you thought about it, the more the idea had excited you. Thus, it was the perfect reward if he could win the bet.

“And if I lose?”

You think for a moment, not really sure. The bet was honestly just a way to see how long he could go without you. So you decide on something easy.

“I get to be on top, next time! It’s been ages.”

Daryl doesn’t hate — far from it, with the way you leave him a whimpering mess — when you’re the dominant one in bed, but he does prefer to be in control.

Daryl grunts, “Don’ really know why ya wanna do this, but yer on.”

You grin; Daryl can never resist a ‘challenge’.

You wake up, curling on your side and reaching to grab Daryl. Only, your hand meets thin air and a cold mattress. Your eyes snap open, and for a minute you panic.

Where is he? Why is he not with you?

But then you remember; the bet. Last night Daryl slept on the couch, and he’ll continue to do so until your challenge is over with.

You press your palms to your eyes, breathing in the stale air. Right at this moment, you wish you hadn’t even made the bet.

Getting up, you don’t bother with dressing in your work (which are really just a tee shirt and jeans) clothes before you’re rushing downstairs. You breathe a sigh of relief when you see him sprawled on the couch.

“Daryl?” You call, voice soft, but it still makes him jolt awake. Ever since you’ve known him, he’s been a very light sleeper. You kind of have to, to survive an apocalypse.

His eyes are blurry before they focus on you, and he grunts his acknowledgment.

“Ya?”

“I missed you,” you say, eyes roaming his form.

He never wears a shirt to bed, and you can see his muscles and the dark dusting of hair on his pecs leading down to his happy trail. Your tongue flicks out to run along your bottom lip.

Daryl’s eyes narrow, “I know what yer doin’.”

“An’ what’s that?” You say, watching as he gets up from the couch and slowly stalks over to you, his eyes heavy lidded. He leans towards you, but never actually touches you.

“Tryna seduce me. Ain’t gon’ work, though.”

And with that, he leans away from you with a smirk.

Well played.

On the second day, it went much like the first. You tried to tempt Daryl, but he was still holding strong.

And you? You were fucking miserable. So pent up with need for your boyfriend, that it was driving you mad. Your cunt was aching, and all you wanted was to jump Daryl’s bones. Why did you think this bet was a good idea?

It’s not until the third day that Daryl breaks.

You’re both at a party hosted by Michonne to celebrate Rick coming back. Truly, it was something to celebrate. And while Daryl was trying to pay attention as Rick retold the years of his service in the CRM, it was hard when you looked good enough to eat. You’re wearing one of the only good dresses you have. The color is beautiful, making your skin pop.

Similarly, you can’t stop staring at Daryl. He looks good. He always does, but there’s something about him right now that’s setting your heart aflame with desire. Maybe it’s the fact that his eyes are dark with lust, or maybe it’s the way his bottom lip is subtly tucked between his teeth. Either way, when he looks you up and down slowly, eyes staying locked on your legs longer than they should have, you can’t take it anymore and excuse yourself to the bathroom.

The house has two bathrooms — one on the main floor, small and near where everyone’s gathered, and one on the second floor. The second floor bathroom is tucked away, and there shouldn’t be anyone going up there. You decide on that one, taking the steps slowly and ignoring the way that every walk makes your thighs press against your throbbing nethers.

The bathroom is clean, and in your lustful haze you forget to lock the door behind you. You lean against the countertop, and your hands trail up and down your body. You want to take your time, you’re so pent up, but you know you can’t. Your fingers trail lower and lower, under your dress and then up, up until they reach your panties.

Your fingertip presses against the wet fabric, right where your slit is. You shiver at the contact, and tip your head back against the mirror while pulling your underwear to the side.

Just as you slide one of your fingers into yourself, a cough rings out.

You whip your hand out from under you and snap your eyes open, face burning in embarrassment. But it’s only Daryl. And if his tented pants are anything to go by, he liked what he saw.

“Don’ stop on my account, baby,” he says, voice thick and heady with desire.

You swallow a thick glob of saliva, and narrow your eyes at him.

“Why don’t you come over here and help?”

Daryl raises an eyebrow, and turns to lock the door before he crosses his arms and leans against the frame.

“Can’ do tha’, don’t wanna lose the bet,” he replies. You huff, but shimmy off your drenched panties. Once they’re off, you throw them at Daryl, who quickly catches them with one hand. He brings them to his nose, and with eyes on you, sniffs them languidly. Your eyes flutter at the sight, and that’s all it takes for you to hike your dress above your hips so he can get a good view of you.

“Fuck, darlin’, can see how wet ya are,” he mumbles, the crotch of your panties still held to his face. A pit of desire continues to bubble within your lower abdomen, and you thrust a finger within the depths of your cunt. Your back arches, a quiet moan falling from your lips.

When you open your eyes, you lock onto Daryl’s erection. It’s straining against the stained denim of his jeans, and his hand is palming it through the material. You lick your lips, eyes watching his every move.

“Like what ya see?” He says, voice gravelly in a way that makes your cunt clench tighter against your finger, arousal dripping out.

“You know I — shit — do,” you moan when your finger curls against that soft spot within you, and you quickly slide a second in.

You whine as you press your thumb against your clit, rubbing in small firm circles. That ball ignores further, hotter and hotter until you can’t take it. Sweat dribbles from your neck down to the valley of your breasts, and you spread your fingers inside you to give Daryl a better view. You can hear the way his breath hitches, and you smirk.

“Please, touch me. Can’t take it, ‘m so close,” you whine, and you know you have him hook, line and sinker when he swallows thickly and takes a small step forward.

“Ta hell with the damn bet,” he grumbles.

He drops your underwear, and unzips himself to take his thick cock in hand when he stands in front of you. The sight leaves you breathless, as it always does when you see his dick. It’s thick, long, and has a perfectly rounded head that you love to have between your lips.

You look up at him, slipping your fingers out from you, mourning the loss. But Daryl is quick to replace them with his own, the stretch of his thicker fingers inside a delicious burn. You whimper, arching into him. Your stiff nipples rub against his shirt. His cock is hot against your skin, the precum leaking onto your tummy. With his other hand, he pushes the hair away from your neck, before wrapping his hand around the back of you. Daryl’s grip on your neck is light but firm enough to cause your toes to curl in pleasure. Your eyes stare into his, and he shakes his head before leaning down to crush a bruising kiss to your lips. You immediately moan into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing closer.

The kiss is hypnotizing, taking your pleasure to the next level. His tongue clashes with yours, teeth scraping and bruising. You love it. You can taste the desperation on his lips, and you match with your own fierceness. It’s been too long, even if it has only been three days.

You break away from him, only to let out a reedy moan when he curls his fingers and rubs your clit, the dam of pleasure so close to breaking.

“Ya like that, pretty girl?” He whispers, lips pressed against the shell of your ear. You nod, sucking in a shaky breath.

“Gon’ cum fer me?”

You nod again. Your voice is lost, it seems.

Daryl tsks, clicking his tongue.

“Know you can use yer words, darlin’,” he mocks, crooking his finger just right. He presses his hips closer to you, cock pressing harsher into your stomach.

“Y-yes, fuck, fuck! Jus’ like that,” you cry, hands circled around his shirt. Your hips thrust minutely to meet his fingers, and when Daryl grins and leans down to lick your neck before biting down hard, the dam finally breaks.

“Jesus fucking ch-,” you whimper out, pussy clenching so tightly around Daryl’s fingers you think they’ll break.

He doesn’t give you a break before he’s removing his fingers and propping you up on the counter, before he slides his cock inside. Your orgasm hasn’t even resided before he’s thrusting in and out, pushing your arousal back inside. The intrusion is bearable with how wet you are, but he’s so thick you can feel him everywhere. With each thrust, he hits that spot within you that’s making you dizzy.

“Fuck, baby, missed this. This pussy is jus’ fer me, ya?” He asks, but you don’t answer. Too fucked out. All you can do is pant and whine with each movement, and when he adds his finger to rub your clit, it’s over. You’re coming again, back arching off the counter and letting out what would have been a loud moan, had Daryl not pressed his palm to your mouth. With his other hand, he uses it to steady you, resting it on your hip. He keeps thrusting, but you can tell he’s close with how erratic his movements are.

“‘S too much, Daryl,” you say, voice muffled. Tears spring to your eyes. You’re in so much pleasure that you think you could ascend to Heaven.

“You can take it, can’t ya? ‘M close,” he responds, stopping for only a minute to raise both your legs around his hips, before jackrabbiting back into you. At this angle, your lower back is digging into the faucet of the sink, but you can’t find it in you to care.

Daryl leans down and captures your mouth with his, and he thrusts once, twice, before spilling his hot spend inside you.

You gasp when he pulls away, chest heaving. Daryl isn’t faring much better. He’s sweaty, hair sticking to his forehead.

You giggle, reaching up to swipe the hair away from his eyes. He smiles down at you, slowly sliding out. You both watch as your mixed arousal leaks out.

“Guess you couldn’t go longer than a week, huh?”

bed chem ━━━ iwaizumi hajime

pairing. iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader

summary. when an unfortunate incident kicks you out of your university and risks your reputation as one of the top figures skater in the country, you find your place in sendai. but when you discover they only have one rink, designated to their a-league hockey team, your chance at a comeback slips from your grasp. your only in is with the captain of the hockey team. the issue with that? he couldn’t care less who you are.

tags & warnings. blended smau, forced proximity, hockey player x figure skater, enemies to lovers kind of, strong language, kms/kys jokes, alcohol use, implied sex, sexual jokes and discussions, innuendos, mental health issues and discussions, ooc.

taglist. open! (36/50) send an ask/reply to be added <3

status. ongoing

part i. short n’ sweet

additional. any images i use for the character of y/n is only intended as a reference and not to imply that is what you look like. i am going to try my best to use diverse images for these references, however it may not always be possible. that being said, i do not own any reference images other than the general social media images.

pinterest board || playlist

profiles i || profiles ii

♡ = contains written portion

CONTENTS!

01. who the hell is iwaizumi

02. rip pedro ♡

03. she’s an attention whore

04. rise and grind

05. new coach?

06. don’t blame me

07. lifts ♡

08. bruised ego

09. to compete or not compete ♡

10. how to earn someone’s trust

11. a REAL invite

12. guessing game ♡

13. first impressions ♡

14. perverted spidey-sense

15. whipped?

16. halloween?

17. time flies

18. fire ♡

19. trust ♡

20. what happened last night?

21. problems

…more coming soon!

valentine's day with kageyama is sweet but hectic. he goes all out because it's a special day and he finally has a special person. i'm talking flowers, chocolates, gifts, dinner at a fancy restaurant, and of course dessert all timed down to the t. he's been planning for over a month, scouring websites for ideas, and visiting store after store to find the right things for you. and honestly the adlers boys are a little tired of hearing about it, but they've also never seen him so passionate about anything that wasn't volleyball until you. so they chime in with comments here and there to help him out. and it's obvious he's nervous. you caught on pretty early, so you try to reassure him he doesn't have to do anything over the top. you love him, and he loves you. it's just another day in the span of a year, but he just shakes his head because, "why wouldn't i do all this and more for you?"

series masterlist link

501st boys reacting to Fem!reader being drunk part 1 of ?

I'm sure @moonlightwarriorqueen and @sunshinesdaydream will recognize a lot that's going on here because this was actually Moonlight's idea, and we all kind of built on it so. Here ya go.

warnings: drunk reader. Fluff.

Fives:

Fives is just as drunk as you are.

You both end up at home from separate events, each of you dropped off by a considerably more sober friend.

He's happy to see you though and wants all of the cuddles.

You're watching some shitty night show on the holo and laughing at the worst jokes that Fives has ever heard.

After a few minutes of shifting around, the two of you fall asleep as a properly tangled mess of limbs on the couch.

And that's exactly how it is when you both wake up with a hell of a hangover.

Hardcase:

You had sent a message to Hardcase asking for him to "buy some motherfuckin' limes, baby. Love you bunches!"

So he kind of has his suspicions before he walks through the door.

“‘CASE!” you screech, barreling at him, and nearly falling on your face

“C’mon Mesh’la.” He laughs, catching you in his arms and kissing your temple. “Why don’t we get you to bed.”

You light up at the prospect of going to bed with him.

However you end up passing out as soon as you lay down, cuddled against his chest.

Rex:

He’s…he’s really not sure what to do with the situation

One minute you’re giggling and draped all over him as he walks in

Then, in a somewhat stern voice he asks what’s going on and the giggling stops

Your lip quivers and tears gather in your eyes as you shrink away, and he instantly regrets it, realizing that you’re most likely tipsy.

“No, no Mesh’la, I’m not mad, I’m sorry”

Forehead kisses

He makes up for it with a little bit of ice cream and cuddles for the rest of the night

sorry, wrong number! — tanaka ryuunosuke. chapter nine; On My Way!

contents more angst but like in a sweet/comforting way? more brainrot lingo. motherless! tanaka & fatherless! reader. profanity. tanaka is bad at talking about his feelings.

< previous ; masterlist ; next >

taglist; @sahrii @kameyyy @cherrysurf @standcom @laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee @mayyhaps @mimi3lover @evilari111 @s6rine @taefanclub @3stelar @heartmaddie @suvakrpa @autlantic @jayathelostdragon @sickpatientt @gumims @4crewz @frootloopscos @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @literallyushiwaka @ursafehaven @charlotterosea13 @xjustxlookingx @baylz @fi-chanwrites @phant0mth1ef @spiderlily-w1tch-blog @l0ckedtomb @iluv-ace @jiminscarmex @p1nktulip

Y/N: I think I’m in love with Crosshair

Tech: …

Y/N: Any thoughts?

Tech: And prayers. You’re going to need them.

👩‍🎤 I'd love to be added- I absolutely love star wars.

Fandom Friday, 08/09: Fanfiction

Hello again, everyone...and welcome to another installment of Fandom Friday, the two-post series where I go off to find new and interesting fanworks that might need a bit more visibility.

Before we go into the list...I just want to repeat that I'm updating my tag list, so that I can continue to reach those who are interested and possibly strike everyone who isn't from the roster. So, if this still describes you, just drop a rockstar emoji (👩‍🎤) into the comments or reblogs, and I'll keep on tagging you. If not...just don't like, reblog, or respond to anything, and I'll be sure to scratch you off.

And so, without further delay, here are my fanfiction picks of the week.

THE CLONE WARS

The Clone Wars Fanfiction--By @st4rsnf1cs:

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My Family is Elsewhere

Pairings: Rex x Mando fem! Reader Summary: you had saved Rex from a crashed republic ship and got him help. After that you couldn't stay aw

THE BAD BATCH

The Bad Batch Fanfiction--By @vodika-vibes:

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That's What Family Does

Okay, silly ask and you can decline if you don’t do the pregnancy stuff! But I was thinking a Crosshair x reader where they were an item pre

The Bad Batch Fanfiction--By @green-alm0nd:

green-alm0nd.tumblr.com

[Crosshair X gn!reader]: Bigger picture

---- ---- Summary: After Crosshair joined the Empire, your relationship has been complicated, especially since there was palpable and unreso

THE ORIGINAL TRILOGY

The Original Trilogy Fanfiction--By @tsotf-fic:

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♚ chapter 1 - when stars collide ♛

i. sisters "Are you sure the feathers are necessary?" Leia asked as her attendant droid, WA-2V, laced up the back of her bodice. A cloud o

THE MANDALORIAN

The Mandalorian Fanfiction--By @stardust-and-snickerdoodles:

stardust-and-snickerdoodles.tumblr.com

you're not in the dark; but far from the light pt. 1

fandom: The Mandalorian pairing: Din Djarin x Reader summary: After a bounty hunt gone wrong, Din must take care of your wounds and watch ov

The Mandalorian Fanfiction--By @whxtedreams:

whxtedreams.tumblr.com

The Hunter and His Witch

A Witch Hunter!Din Djarin x witch!reader oneshot Summary: The task assigned to him by the lords was a simple one, whether her body was brou

AHSOKA

Ahsoka Fanfiction--By @illuminatedquill:

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Random Musings

Short Story Summary: Hera Syndulla arrives at Sabine and Ezra's comm tower to drop off the first print editions of their personal trading

In conclusion, as part of my mission to poke around the Star Wars fandom and, on Friday every week, highlight those writers who might otherwise go unnoticed…I hope you will check out the links I have included for yourselves and like, comment on, and reblog them, as well as also giving the writers a few more followers to their Tumblr pages.

Please also like and reblog this latest installment so that these links can be spread around to as many other fans as possible, just in case not all of them can tune in at the same time.

An additional thank you goes to @djarrex for making the divider I used earlier in this post, but still want to give credit for.

And finally, so that I do not forget…thank you to my friends, thank you to this fandom, good morning, and good luck.

No Pressure Tags: @melymigo @algo-o-nada @theosb0rnway @everybirdfellsilent @skellymom

@leos-multifandom-corner @maggie-dylan @leenabb104104 @gun-roswell @tazmbc1

@bluedeedeedoop @its-time-to-rise-above @tlmtwelve and anybody else who might be on the lookout for new SW fanfiction.

Tysm for the response! Here is request!

(Platonic) Rex X 11-12yr Padawan Reader

The reader is detrimentally injured during a join mission with the 501st, and bleeding out severely. They begin to have a panic attack, which only adds to the pain, and dampens everything. Rex stumbles upon them and is quick to act! However- with limited medicinal knowledge, and a panicking padawan, he can only pray Kix get here in time, and offer kind words and promises to the child.

tysm!!

Promise of Tomorrow: Platonic! Rex x Padawan! Reader

-this is such an angsty prompt, I love it

-was going to give this a bad ending in tragedy, but changed my mind since I wasn't sure if you'd want that route

-enjoy and don't forget to reblog!

The icy chill of night sent shivers down your spine. If not for the growing pains in your side, you would have laughed and made a joke about spooky dancing skeletons. Stars glimmered in the navy sky, an abyss of infinity that reminded you of the pulling ache of the Force.

Stars, did your body hurt. You wondered how long you had laid in the overgrown grass for. An hour? Two? The ambush took you by surprise when it shouldn't have, threw you off balance when you should have had two feet planted firmly in the ground.

Where was your Master? Anakin promised he'd be only five miles to the east, a little ways away from the breath of civilisation. He promised to RV with you in this exact spot two hours ago, right where your squad had been massacred at the hands of Count Dooku.

The world seemed to spin the longer you stared at the black of night. Spots danced in your vision, little specs that made your empty stomach churn and gush with nausea. You heaved in a short breath, throat constricting as if a snake had wrapped around your windpipe.

No, no, it had been over two hours hadn't it? The sun set around seven thirty-eight, and the sun had already risen halfway across the sky. That meant...that meant you had been laying here in a pool of your own blood for at least three to four hours.

Were you going to die? The knife embedded in your side had viciously been ripped from your flesh the moment you attempted to run with the last of your men and your life. It was a smart decision on Dooku's account--to have Anakin Skywalker's little padawan bleed out in a field of dead bodies.

Surely, that would leave a wound upon history itself. A tear that could never be mended throughout the Order. After all, your Master was dubbed as 'The Chosen One', was he not?

A dry cough slipped past your lips and you tried not to choke on the irony flavour of blood. It trickled past your lips in little droplets, tiny beads of red that stained your skin crimson.

This was it. This was so it. Your chest began to heave, up and down, up and down. No matter how hard you wanted to trust in the Force and all your teachings instilled by the Jedi of the past, your mind could not focus on the balance resting on your shoulders.

Your breath caught in your throat and you felt it constrict where you lay in the grass, staring at the bodies around you. The only surviving men had gone off to find help with barely their lives in tact, but you feared it was too late.

The scale was sure to tip because you were bleeding out, and the pain in your side only numbed to nothing. Nothing. Oh, didn't that mean you were losing too much blood? Too much strength?

How could you even slur out a cry for help to your comm when your dry lips sealed themselves shut? The cracked skin ached just a bit, but not as much as the burning fact that death was much too near for comfort.

Your breath hitched impossibly tight. Breathe. Breathe. Why couldn't you breathe? Speak? Scream? All that filled your ears was the rush of blood and the heavy sound of your strangled cries.

You were dying. You were dying and all alone.

Master Skywalker. Oh, how you prayed for him to hear your pleas, your cries, the tears that burned your blurry vision with salty fluids. Breathe, you reminded. Breathe!

Yet no breath escaped your lips, no oxygen entered your lungs. Breathe. Breathe--

"Commander!"

A faint pair of footsteps echoed through the fog of your dulled mind. You wondered why the voice sounded so familiar, and why it called out to your heart with warmth.

"You have to stay with me!"

The panicked expression on the boy's face made your senses reel in. His name--you knew it, right? It started with an f? No, no. An 'r'. His name...his name was Rex.

You blinked languidly, a dumb sort of realisation dawning on you as you heaved and heaved. Wow, was it always this hard to think? It must be the blood and the way your throat kept closing. Or maybe the blurry dots spanning your vision as you faded into the abyss of a cold, meaningless death--

"Stay with me!" cried Rex. He lifted an arm and you vaguely registered it as his comm. A voice came from the other end, but you couldn't quite register it as he  began to shout aggressively. The mixture of angry sounds, the movement of his lips, fell on deaf ears.

All you heard was the ragged sound of your strangled breathing.

It was as if the world had come to a slow stop. The rush of adrenaline, the swaying of overgrown grass, the silence of only death beside you.

"R-Rex," --you wildly met his eyes-- "h..help." A part of you almost wanted to laugh at the stupidity of such a plea.

Help?

How could he help if your throat wasn't working to deliver the oxygen to your lungs?

Help...?

How could he help when he wasn't a medic?

Much less Kix?

You continued to heave, tears blurring your vision. You didn’t want to die. Not yet and not now. Your squad had given their lives beside you, how cruel would it be for their sacrifices to be in vain?

You thought back to your days in the Temple as a mere Youngling, the evenings when sun leaked through the window panes in golden arcs above your head. It had always been warm in the Temple. Comforting. You wondered if it would have been better to live your life as a specialist in medicine for the Order, or as a harvester of plants.

Anything...anything but this, right? Anything but that aching pain in your chest and that lingering chill of death over your shoulder.

Rex’s lips kept moving. Sound slowly fell into the atmosphere, little droplets that hit your ears like a waterfall. You sensed his urgency, his own pain that flooded his honest heart. You couldn’t die in his arms, not him. Not when he was your best friend, your companion.

“Stay with me!” he pleaded. “You’re gonna make it, I promise.” You would have shaken your head if you could. What kind of lie was he telling you?

Tears ran down your cheeks as you chocked out a jumble of words. A familiar mantra filled your head (I am one with the Force and the Force is with me), one you focused on in order to be with Rex. Your friend. It was all you could offer when fear clouded your mind and death rang true.

“I...I’m going to die.” you stammered between breaths. “I-I’m sorry. I-I’m s-so sorr...sorry.” Rex firmly took your hand in his and gave it a squeeze. In your mind, you heard the memories rushing into his head, the anguish of all the death he faced. “You are not going to die.” he affirmed. “You are not going to die!”

“R-Rex...” You shook your head with a chocked sob. “I-I failed my...my Master and my s-squad...I failed...I failed as a Jedi...”

He only squeezed your hand harder. Held you a little tighter. “No, you did not. If that were true, then you would have already died. I know how close you were to your squad, and I know they would want to see you live. I saw them on the way here, they're going to get Kix and he'll patch you right up, understood?”

All you sensed from his heart was the burn of determination and the fierce beating of loyalty. He would not leave your side, nor would he accept your words even if it were with your dying breath. To him, and to him alone, you were always admirable.

Special, he had once said.

And whatever that meant shouldn’t really matter, right? Even if determination were not enough to keep you alive, you began to wonder, trust. Maybe...Rex was right. He wouldn’t lie to you. He wouldn’t.

With those firm hands, Rex dabbed away your tears. “You’re going to be okay, understood, Commander? You will not die. Not on my watch.”

To Rex, you were special. Not because you were a Jedi or because you were practically a child soldier, but because you were you. In the last moments of the  battle with your squad, you were willing to give your life to fight alongside them.

Still, you couldn’t believe that last bit--the part of him thinking you as ‘special’. For Rex, your friend, your confidant, your companion, held tight to the promise of tomorrow. That piece of determined belief left you gripping tight to life.

Tight to words that rang true in your heart. You shut your eyes, focusing on the pull of the Force. Its calm was just out of your reach, barely a hair's away as you grasped and seized it.

I am one with the Force, you thought. And the Force is with me.

Your breaths began to steady into a calm, where not even the heaviest rains could stir your ocean. The breath slowly returned to your body as you focused on the Force, the warmth of Rex's hand as he kept a firm grasp.

"You're not dying," he affirmed once again. "Not on my watch, Commander." And there was a sureness to his voice that made his words nothing but truth.

The buzz of a speeder cut through the night air, where blades of grass bowed down as a group of men raced over with a med kit. You didn't need to look over to know Kix was amongst them, ordering the remnants of your squad to check for any survivors.

And as Kix knelt before you and got to work, you had a feeling everything would be okay. "Rex," you croaked. "You're not leaving yet, right?"

Rex gave your hand a firm squeeze with a shake of his head. "No, Commander. I'll be right by your side."

There was nothing truer than hearing Rex's voice. Your eyes fluttered shut and you muttered out a small 'okay'. The oceans of calm in your heart continued to remain still, where even the smallest of boats could cross the seas unharmed.

You were in good hands, and for that, there would always be a promise of tomorrow.

YES MORE FOR GARRICK. He's such an underrated character! Now i'm not much of a writer but my feedback is i really enjoyed however a lot was going on in the beginning, as it was moving very fast so i was a little lost but it got better the deeper you got into it!

ძ᥆ᥒ'𝗍 ᑲᥣᥲmᥱ mᥱ | gᥲrrіᥴk 𝗍ᥲ᥎іs

a/n: now, i'm a little insecure about this so i would love feedback! I hope you all are having a good day.

wc: 2.6k+

warnings: smut +18, dain being annoying, swearing, etc.

The day had started off decently. Decent because you hadn’t fought with your brother that morning. Dain was very protective of you and you did things that were not so safe for you all the time. Of course, your father was worse than Dain so you began to think of ways to piss both of them off. 

Your eyes trailed over the dining hall and landed on the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. 

Garrick Tavis. 

He sat next to Xaden, your wingleader, and ate his breakfast with a smile. You wished you were on the receiving end of that smile. Violet nudged your arm and tilted her head, “You okay?” 

You inhaled deeply and chewed on your lip, “Just thinking about something.” 

“Yeah, thinking about fucking Tavis.” You whipped your head toward Ridoc and scowled. He grinned, “You know I’m right.” 

Violet’s eyes widened and she smiled as her eyes looked over to where her lover and Garrick sat. “Dain will kill you if you sleep with Garrick,” she said. 

You grinned and speaking of the devil himself, you heard Dain’s footsteps behind you. Probably came to start a fight with you. 

Your friends scattered which meant that you were now alone with your brother. That ought to be good. Dain sat down beside you and sighed. “Why did you not tell me you were at Athebyne?” He gritted out. You rolled your eyes and sipped the tea you made for yourself. 

“It’s not like I have to tell you everything I do, Dain.” 

“If I catch you around marked individual’s again or get told about it-” 

“You’ll do what? Tell father and have him pull me out of the quadrant? Fine, do it but that won’t stop me from hanging out with my friends.”

Dain grunted and shook his head, “Your friends are marked and you know I’m not supposed to let you hang out with them, especially Xaden and Liam.” 

“It’s not Liam or Xaden you have to worry about.” You mumbled under your breath. Dain raised a brow and finally had enough of his lecture, you stood from your seat. You grabbed your bag and headed for the door. Dain called after you but you ignored him as you passed through the threshold into the hall. 

You slung your bag over your shoulder and headed to your room. But on the way, your eyes snagged on a certain beautiful man with a significant size difference than you. His eyes met yours and he grinned. His feet redirected themselves and guided him to you. 

He must’ve found something in your expression because the grin he wore fell. “You alright? Was it your brother?” 

You simply nodded. He exhaled and put his arms around you, enveloping your entire frame in his body. You wrapped your arms around him as best as you could and sighed into his chest. His hugs always cured whatever you were going through. You’re pretty sure he knew it too since he always hugged you when you were in a mood. 

You went to pull away but Garrick kept you in place, “Not yet,” he breathed. Heat traveled up your skin at the sound he made. It sounded like a growl and when you looked over your shoulder, Dain stood there with a scowl on his face. You looked up and there was a smug grin on Garrick’s lips. 

Realization curled along your skin and your core pulsed at the fact that Garrick was trying to piss your brother off. You didn’t know why it turned you on so much but fuck, his hands on you made you feel things that you thought you couldn’t feel. Ridoc’s words from earlier that morning floated back into your mind. 

Thinking about fucking Tavis. 

No. It wouldn’t be just a thought but a reality when you pulled away and looked up at him. You let your desire show in your eyes as fire burned in his. You knew he had felt something with you but you couldn’t place it since it was hard to read his emotions. He cursed under his breath and groaned as you laid your hands on his perfectly sculpted chest. 

You desperately wanted to know the feel of his skin against yours. And by the look he gave you, he wanted the same thing. You parted your lips but before you could get any words out, Garrick’s lips were on yours. You gasped as he lifted you and wrapped your legs around his waist. 

There was a possibility of him doing it just to piss off your brother but you really didn’t care. You had craved his touch and his taste, but now that you had it, you didn’t want anyone else’s. You knew that for a fact. 

He pulled away and grinned at you, “After classes?” 

Your core throbbed at the thought of him fucking you into oblivion right after physics class. You nodded once and withdrew yourself from him. “I’ll see you in your room?” You wanted to make sure that Dain couldn’t walk in at any point he chose and ruin your chance.

Gods, I sound like a horny teenager. 

You thought. The filthy images in your mind resurfaced as you stared up at the man. 

He dipped his chin then walked in the way your brother went. Dain would surely kill Garrick if he saw him. Your brother didn’t take too kindly to other men looking at you or in a way that’s lustful. So, with the stunt you two pulled in the hallway right in front of him, there’s no way you were going to get out of the lecture that was sure to come. Along with Garrick getting a ‘talking’ to by Dain. 

You rolled your eyes at the thought and headed to class. 

The whole time you were in your classes all you could think about was Garrick’s lips on yours. Your notes are rushed and scrambled together because of losing track of where you were each time the thought of the tall beautiful man entered your mind. 

You were down bad and you hadn’t even had your first date with the man. Not that you thought you'd ever get a first date. It was just a hookup and a ploy to piss off your brother. 

You snapped out of your thoughts as you heard your brother call out your name from down the hall. Sighing, you made your way over to him and raised your brow at him, clearly showing him that you’d rather not be talking. “Yes?” 

“Father wants to have dinner with the both of us tonight,” he said with a grin on his face. Of course, your father wanted you over for dinner and of course, it had to be the night you were going to get your brains fucked out of you by Garrick fucking Tavis. 

You squinted at him and frowned, “I’m busy tonight, how about tomorrow?” You tried your best at keeping a neutral tone but Dain crossed his arms and looked over you. 

“Where are you going? Your room is down the other hall.” Fuck. He was paying attention but you played it off. 

“Going to get something from a friend.” 

“What? To get dick from Tavis.” 

Your cheeks heated and your fists clenched. “It’s not like you’re celibate, Dain.” 

He snorted and shook his head, “I can’t wait to tell father that his precious little girl is going to a marked one to lose her virginity to. The very last person he would approve of touching you.” 

“Well, it’s a good thing he doesn’t own my body,” you snapped. You’ve had enough of your brother for one day and stormed off to Garrick’s room. You remembered the way when Violet took you with her to retrieve something from him. You couldn’t remember what it was for but you knew it was important. 

Finally, you made it to his door and knocked twice. He swung the door open and a cocky grin plastered on his face. Damn that beautiful face. You wanted it between your thighs. 

He pulled you inside by your belt and slammed his lips into yours. You slid your bag from your shoulders and tossed it to the corner of the room. You cupped his face in your palms, kissing him deeper. He tasted like heaven and you really didn’t want to stop. 

Apparently he didn’t want to either from the amount of tugging he did at your clothes. He moved his lips to your neck and backed you against the wall, trapping you between the wall and his hard body. Once you got both of your clothes off, he hoisted you up and your legs wrapped around his middle. 

The tip of his cock nudged at your entrance and you fought back the urge to sink lower. He carried you to the large bed and gently laid you down. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear. His hands rubbed your sides which made goosebumps erupt all over your skin. 

Your skin felt like it was on fire each time he touched you, especially when his hand drifted lower. His fingers brushed past your navel and cupped your mound. His fingers slipped up and down your slit. Need filled your body and your clit throbbed so hard you clenched your thighs together. 

He tsked and opened your legs again, wider than before. 

“So wet already for me. Have you been thinking about me burying my cock into your pretty pussy all day?” You whimpered at his filthy words because in fact, you had been daydreaming of him slamming into you and kissing you. 

“Couldn’t help it,” your words came out breathless. 

He placed soft kisses on your hip bone and down your thighs. Garrick’s fingers circled your entrance then slowly pushed his finger in. You hissed and whimpered because his finger slightly stretched you. He left a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your inner thigh and to the apex. When he wrapped his lips around your clit, a lewd moan fell from your lips. 

He pumped his fingers in and out of you while his tongue flicked over your sensitive nub. You tangled your fingers in his hair and tugged as he sucked hard on your clit. A silent cry left your lips as you pulled him closer to you. 

He chuckled against your wetness and moaned, “Taste so fucking sweet and so wet.” 

His fingered and rubbed the spot inside of you that made you see stars. You whimpered and tried to move back on the bed but he followed and made sure his fingers kept the motion. He attached his lips to your clit and flicked his tongue over the bud. 

Whimpers and moans filled the room as you started getting closer to your climax. Your legs shook from the overstimulation. Your mind was fuzzy and it was hard to think with the amount of pleasure that coursed through your body. 

He pulled away from your heat just as you were about to cum and grinned, your juices coated his lips. He leaned in and kissed you. You tasted yourself on his lips and he was right, you did taste sweet. 

“All day, all fucking day, i’ve been thinking of you and your beautiful cunt.” He grunted as he ran his length through your slick. “And I finally asked you.”

A smile appeared on your lips as you grabbed onto his biceps while the tip of his cock nudged at your entrance. The tip itself was big and you let out a shuddered breath. He moved the hair out of your face and looked for something in your expression. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” It was a simple question but it made you flush with heat. You didn’t want him to turn you away just because you hadn't done anything before. 

“Y-Yes,” you said shyly. He cooed and pulled you closer then on top of him. Your heat was directly above his erection and you rubbed yourself against it. He groaned and lifted his hips.

“You little minx.” 

You grinned and lined his cock up with your entrance. You took a breath and slowly sank down. A cry left you at the sheer size of him. Whimpers fell off your lips as you sank even further down. “Easy, baby.” He rested his hands on your hips and let you go at your own pace. 

There was a pang of pain that shot through your core but you ignored it and sank down the rest of the way. You panted. It was so hot to have a strong man under you and at your mercy. 

He groaned and squeezed your hips as you began to move your hips in a circular motion then bounced. You were incredibly wet and you knew part of it was your innocence but it was mostly due to Garrick. He had made you feel so desired and wanted that it made you gush. 

“Good girl,” he moaned. When you heard those words, you nearly whimpered at the praise. You slammed down on his cock harder and your moans and whines grew to screams. 

In one swift motion, he flipped both of you and pile-drived into you. It felt all so good. Your skin was on fire and it was like you couldn’t get enough of him even though he was shoving himself to the hilt. You clung to him and whined into his neck. 

“Fuck, Y/N, we should have done this sooner, babydoll.” Your tits bounced as he slammed into you repeatedly. You clenched your walls around his cock and you could feel how his veins rubbed against them. Every sense in your body was heightened and made everything felt so good. 

You were so close as the tip of his cock brushed across your favorite spot with every thrust. It makes your mind fuzzy and blank. All you wanted was for him to keep going and never stop. 

“You take me so fucking well, pretty girl.” 

You couldn’t form words, only whimpers and whines as your climax built higher and higher. You were right on the very edge when he groaned, “You close, baby?”

“Fuck, yes. Yes, please Gar,” you said in a high-pitch whine. He chuckled and moved your legs to your chest and slammed his hips harder which moved your whole body. 

After one more thrust, you came with a scream. And he came with a groan. His seed coated your walls and filled you to the brim. You loved the feeling of his release in your pussy. 

You let out a satisfied sigh and rubbed your hands up and down his torso. “That felt really good.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mhm.” 

Slowly he pulled himself out of you and you whimpered at the empty feeling. You want to be full of him all the time. 

“I would clean you up myself but the showers are across the hall.” You giggled and shook your head. 

“It’s okay, thank you though. It’s very sweet that you thought about that. Can we cuddle?” 

He grinned and pulled you into his arms, “Anything you wish, you’ll get. Always.” 

You looked up at him and narrowed your eyes, “Anything?” 

He chuckled, “Yes, anything. What are you thinking?” 

“Maybe we could do this again?” 

He smirked, “You want this again?” 

“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?” 

Garrick shook his head and said, “Just thought this was to get your brother riled up.”

“I don’t care about that right now,” you yawned. 

The air felt warm and cozy. You were tired after the brutal fucking you had just got and you needed sleep. 

“We can do this again, babydoll.”

— 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓;

☾ Content: popstar f!reader much more famous than your pro volleyball player boyfriend- you finally hard launch your relationship on instagram but the public reaction isn't what you expect, so you take matters into your own hands

ft. Ushijima Wakatoshi, Hinata Shouyou, Miya Atsumu, Bokuto Koutarou, Kageyama Tobio

☾ A/N: inspired by dua lipa and callum turner and my girl sabrina

— 𝐔𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐚 𝐖𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢;

Ushijima doesn't even have an instagram, naturally. the closest thing is he's got is his team's account, curated and managed by the PR team. so when you wiggle your phone in front of him to show him the chosen piece for your account, he just gives it a cursory glance and nods. the photo is from backstage at one of your concerts earlier this month: you, glowing with joy, arm slung casually around his neck, leaning into him as you beam up at him with a smile that could light up your stadiums. he's got one arm wrapped securely around your waist, usual stoic expression softened by a warmth in his eyes as he gazes down at you- one that only you seem to be able to draw out of him.

but the reactions to your post are swift and crushing. you're beyond proud of Ushijima- proud of his quiet strength, his dedication, his raw talent. you know you shouldn’t and it shouldn’t—doesn’t—matter, but your thumb keeps scrolling through the comments. each one feels like a knife twisting deeper, a personal attack, particularly the ones suggesting he doesn't care, that he looks like he's got the emotional depth of a spoon, that this is all just a PR move somehow. watching the sweetest man you know not get the recognition he truly deserves hurts more than you want to admit.

ᯓ🏐

when Ushijima steps into your shared bedroom, shirtless, his hair still damp from a post-workout shower and sweatpants slung low on his hips, his gaze finds you sitting at your vanity. the soft light of the mirror highlights your delicate features, casting a warm glow over your pretty face.

"toshi," you greet him warmly, turning toward him with an inviting smile. he pads over to you, barefoot, and you tilt your chin up expectantly. he rests one hand on the back of your chair, the other on the edge of your desk and leans down, capturing your lips in a long, slow kiss, his head tilting to deepen it as he lifts a hand to your cheek, gently smoothing his thumb across your soft skin before drawing back, a small smile curving up on his lips when he sees the dazed look in your eyes.

"morning, love." he says simply, before walking off to the kitchen to make himself a protein shake. completely oblivious to the phone propped up against your mirror, the livestream on the screen, and the chaos that you've just unleashed within your fanbase.

readerfanatic_official joined popicon4life just fell to my knees screaming in the 711 parking lot platinum_readerstan she's dating a TREE tinyreader777 'morning love'???...our queen is built different i would've evaporated on the spot bipbop_23 ...i get it now readerfan2024 guess i'm into volleyball now glitznglamfan girl i'm scared for ur holes

— 𝐇𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐲𝐨𝐮;

it's a cute photo: the two of you on a beach at a resort, there for one of Oikawa's games. Hinata's got his head in your lap, one of your hands gently running through his messy orange hair while your other hand rests on his chest. you're gazing out at the sea, a serene smile gracing your face as you enjoy the view, while Hinata looks up at you, equally captivated by what he sees.

the comments that flood in are anything but kind. most of them poke fun at his height, with fans wondering how he managed to catch your eye when he's fighting gravity every day, others insisting that he must just be very funny. and it doesn’t bother Hinata at all, not that you can tell- he just scratches the back of his head and laughs, exclaiming that it's nothing he hasn't heard before, that he’ll just have to work twice as hard to earn your fans’ approval. ignoring your protests that he has nothing to prove.

ᯓ🏐

a few eagle-eyed fans are the first ones to notice it and not long after, screenshots of your activity start to circulate. first it's you liking an edit of Hinata lifting his shirt during ones of his games to wipe sweat off his brow. then it's a clip of him leaping into the air, showing off his energy and athleticism. a third like is a snapshot of Hinata celebrating a victory, fists clenched and knees bent, muscles in his thighs flexed as he roars with triumph.

the one that nips it in the bud is when you share a post to your story. it’s a reel- a compilation of Hinata’s spikes, his raw energy and unstoppable power lighting up the court as he slams the ball past his opponents. your fans lose it when you post a mirror selfie on the same day: you've got your back turned toward the mirror, all dolled up for an award ceremony in a gown that leaves nothing and everything to the imagination. you look good, accentuated by the man at your side who, unlike you, is facing the mirror. but Hinata isn't looking at the camera- his heated gaze is on your reflection instead. one of his arms is curved loosely around your waist, hand resting just above your ass.

the internet goes wild.

mvpmichelle8 2h 385 likes our girl is thirsting publicly on main i respect it robsessed247 2h 306 likes rip to her ass cheeks keanue_433 2h 243 likes ...what team does he play for again stanacctreader 1h 178 likes she got herself a short KING FR newvolley_98 1h 85 likes so when’s the next game where you get a front-row seat to his… spikes? 🥵

— 𝐌𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐀𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮;

you don’t exactly share the photo yourself, but it might as well be yours. when Vogue posts the cover shot and tags you, it goes viral almost instantly. because Atsumu is seated in a luxurious chair, looking every bit like a king in his perfectly tailored suit, legs spread confidently, an air of dominance about him. you're perched on the armrest beside him, the slit of your black dress exposing the smooth curves of your body. one of your hands is loosely intertwined with his, resting on your thigh. the chemistry is palpable, electric. the sultry confidence in your posture paired with the intensity in Atsumu's gaze makes it impossible to look away. paired with the article about your relationship, this is a power couple at its finest.

or at least so you think.

the opinions of your fans are mixed, but those who disapprove don't hold back. they say that he must be cheating on you, that he looks untrustworthy, that his self-assured interview quotes only highlight how self-absorbed he is, implying he’s too consumed with himself to ever treat you right. Atsumu's ready to fight everyone questioning his devotion to you before you remind him that he can’t spend all day replying to hate comments- he has practice, and that you’ll handle it.

ᯓ🏐

you show up to the world championship that month with your entourage in tow. you visit Atsumu in his locker room to wish him good luck, ignoring the way his teammates trip over themselves gaping at you. he almost doesn’t let you leave, seizing you in a deep kiss that leaves you a little unsteady on your feet, but you plan a firm hand on his chest because you have places to be, a job to do.

when Atsumu steps up to serve and you watch as his routine unfolds, the familiar movements flowing effortlessly, your PR team is at the ready. his signature has evolved since his early days, the fist still a familiar gesture, but now his index finger uncurls at the last moment, pointing into the crowd. he doesn’t need to look; he always knows exactly where you are. but today, it’s different. you’re not in the shadows, hiding behind sunglasses or a baseball cap. today, you’re wearing his jersey, sitting front and center, in the best seat in the house. you’re clapping louder than anyone else, beaming so hard your cheeks hurt.

this time, when he finds you in the crowd, the whole world is watching.

Us Weekly: Atsumu Miya Makes History with Serve: Fans Go Wild over Major 'Couple Goals' Moment at the World Championship Buzzfeed: Is He Pointing to Y/N? 10 Moments Atsumu Miya Was Literally Screaming 'I Love You' Sports Illustrated: Atsumu Miya’s Serve Gets Personal: The Unspoken Gesture You Didn’t Know Was for Y/N Kyodo News: Fans Flock to See Miya Atsumu's Relationship with Global Sensation Y/N in Full View Cosmopolitan: Y/N and Atsumu Miya: From Music Charts to Volleyball Courts—Their Love Story (Exclusive)

— 𝐁𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐊𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮;

what you think is a beautiful moment, your fans interpret quite differently. in the photo you post, Bokuto's strong arms are wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him as he hugs you from behind. his hands are positioned low on your abdomen, fingers spread wide and pressing down lightly, a playful gesture that has you squirming in response. the candid shot your manager took captures you in mid-laugh. you're tilting away from him, hands gripping his wrists, body twisted in a half-escape as though you're trying to dodge his ticklish touch. Bokuto's lips are pressed softly to the side of your neck, the curve of your shoulder partly obscuring his face. his expression is partially hidden, but the corner of his mischievous grin peeks out, his eyes glinting at the camera as he looks up right at that moment.

your fans tear him apart, their words dripping with criticism- accusing him of being too touchy, claiming that you don’t want him like that, that he's too obsessed, too forward. the comments flood in, one after another, each one more biting than the last. the relentless stream of negativity cuts deep, and you can see the toll it takes on Bokuto as he scrolls on his phone with a downtrodden look. you tell him to ignore it, that he has nothing to worry about, but you can tell it does little to lift his spirits.

ᯓ🏐

you show him that night just how deeply you care about him, straddling his lap and gently cupping his face in your hands. your lips meet his in a soft, reverent kiss, a silent exchange that you hope conveys volumes. you murmur against his mouth, telling him how perfect he is, watching with a quiet smile as the tips of his ears go red. but then he shifts, flipping you over on the bed, caging you in with thick arms all while still blushing so prettily. and when you feel something hard and big pressing against your inner thigh, you wonder what you've gotten yourself into.

Bokuto goes even redder the next day when he wakes up to incessant texting from his teammates and he opens social media to find a photo on your feed: it's of him shirtless, lying on his front and cradling a pillow with his cheek smooshed into it, his hair down and expression peaceful. what's not so peaceful is the view of his bare back- red streaks running down his tanned skin, unmistakably from your fingers. the white sheets thrown over his legs obscure anything from the waist down but his face flushes deeper as he takes in the rest of the intimate scene.

you've got one hand resting gently on his head, fingers woven loosely in his hair, thumb caressing his cheek mid-stroke. it's soft, casual, possessive.

fan_gurl_4 1h 403 likes the way we thought HE was the obsessed one...how the turn tables bobfriend_76 1h 386 likes she's marking her territory glamjam69 1h 207 likes ...this ain't demure or mindful at all menin4k22 45m 146 likes ma’am for science, p-please remove those sheets readerfan234 14m 121 likes the way she's touching him...i need a moment to grieve 😩

— 𝐊𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐨;

the release party for your new album goes off without a hitch, and you score tons of cute photos with Kageyama, cuddling up to him that night to scroll through and select the best ones. your top choice is one of the more simple shots: you, with one hand resting on his chest, leaning into the arm he’s wrapped around your waist. his long fingers were hot against your skin through the delicate fabric of your dress, and you swear you can still feel the imprints of them. he's serious in the shot, his lips set in a stern line as he gazes into the camera, but you adore that look on him. especially when that same gaze shifts to you, hinting at something deeper, something darker, waiting for later.

your fans, however, don't see what you do. so you wake up to a barrage of comments, about how he looks boring, how he probably doesn't know a single one of your lyrics, how you could do so much better. naturally, Kageyama doesn't give a single shit as to what your fans think about him. just kisses you goodbye and heads off to practice, duffel bag slung over his broad shoulder. but you care.

ᯓ🏐

it takes a fair amount of convincing and a hefty dose of bribery, which somehow includes you securing an advertisement contract with one of Kageyama's favorite yogurt brands, but he finally agrees to appear in the music video for your latest hit. though, you can't help but think it had more to do with you casually hinting that your company had intended on pulling in one of the hottest actors currently on the scene, known for making girls swoon at meet-and-greets.

he plays a cop arresting you for a string of crimes you commit in the name of revenge on your cheating ex, culminating in him pushing you down in the backseat of his patrol car. it's hot, steamy, and when he shoves his knee between your legs, leaning over you with one hand pinning your wrists above your head, you won't deny that you make a mental note to recreate this scene later, without the cameras.

the music video shatters records and skyrockets to the top of the charts.

and the comments this time? well. they speak for themselves.

bops234 • 1 day ago this awakened something in me fando23 • 12 hours ago i'm going to need this man's @ immediately barkbarkbark_89 • 12 hours ago are we sure he doesn't want to switch career paths stanacctreader • 10 hours ago i thought he was just a plain slice of milk bread but boy was i wrong freedomsings145 1h • 5 hours ago casting your real life boyfriend as the main romantic lead in your music video is such a power move, as always our queen's taste is IMPECCABLE atsumumiya • 2 hours ago he looks like a foot