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[whirlybirbs]

i am on my hands and knees begging for a shred of keigo takami baby bird kfc angel content from you, if you write hawks i will finally know true peace

— MEET & GREET ; 1 / 2 ; HAWKS ; 啓悟

summary: you manage to snag two VIP meet & greet tickets for your nephew's birthday. he insists you join him. part one of two. pairing: keigo takami ; hawks / f!reader word count: 3.1k tags: humor, meet-cute, pro hero culture, birbs ignores all relevant timelines yet again, fluff, phone-flirting, hawks is great with kids, t+, relatable pre-hook up hesitation, they will fuck next time a/n: hawks is the chappell roan of the mha universe. stop touching him. this man actually changed my brain chemistry in early 2023 but we don't need to talk about that. anways, this poll was on the ropes all day and i made the executive choice to feed the hawks birblets.

You feel like your face has been set in a semi-permanent cringe all morning. 

In your right hand, you're clutching your half-finished iced coffee for dear life. In your other, you're clinging to your nephew as he drags you through the convention center — one of the bright red wings of his beloved, homemade cosplay has started to go lopsided, and the six-year-old excitedly tugs it back in place as he tries to yank you forward.

"C'mon! We're gonna be late!" 

This really wasn't your scene.

Fan conventions had a way of making your skin itch. The amount of sexy All Mights you've seen this morning alone has to be some sort of milestone indicator for the environment. Whether nature is healing or dying, though, you have no idea. 

If you had it your way, you'd spend the rest of the day mingling through the artist stalls — but, to your nephew Hayami's point, the two of you had somewhere to be.

Your VIP meet-and-greet badge swings as you trip up and laugh. "Okay! Okay, slow down! You're about to yank my arm off!"

It was the best birthday gift imaginable for Hayami. You officially cemented your title as The Coolest Aunt Ever when you managed to snag the two VIP convention meet-and-greet tickets (complete with a professional photo and two signed copies of the convention's annual poster) after a harrowing seven hours in an online Ticketmaster line. There were only a hundred of them sold — and sure, you coulda thrown that pretty hunk of cash into a college fund for Hayami, but he was deeply in his hero phase. 

Originally you expected that Hayami's father, your brother-in-law, would want to go.

But, no, Hayami himself insisted you come with him.

After all, you helped me with my costume, he begged, I wouldn't have been able to do it without you!

That you did. Many a hot glue gun burn was suffered at the hands of those damn red feathers. If you squint from far away, the cosplay isn't half bad considering the thrift and dollar-store materials. It wasn't one of those inch-to-inch replicas, but it worked. 

He's like a cute, bouncing mini Hawks. Complete with goggles and wings.

And Hayami is happy. And that's all that matters to you. 

The line is already pretty long, and Hayami runs his gloved hands along the line barriers as he races to his spot, audibly wooshing the whole way — just like Hawks does, probably. His badge jingles, and he hops to a stop as you come up behind him and pat his head. The six-year-old stands up on his tippy-toes, trying to see around the Miss Midnight fan in front of them. 

"Can you see him?" he chatters excitedly, "Ti, can you?"

He's called you Ti ever since he could speak. Auntie was too long, and the shortened version has stuck. 

You hop up onto your tippy-toes, mimicking him — and you swear you catch a glimpse of a crimson feather plumage over the gathered heads of the other meet-and-greet fans. It might be another cosplayer.

"I dunno," you whisper, your eyes darting to your phone's lock screen, "It's supposed to start any minute—"

The telltale roar of fanfare lets you know exactly who has just arrived. 

Hayami's excitement is palpable. Without a word, you're hauling him up and perching him on your shoulders. His hands land in your hair, and you can feel his smile from down here. 

"Ti! It's him!"

The line starts moving not long after, and you finish your iced coffee while Hayami stays perched on your shoulders, utterly starstruck. You weave through the barriers, moving up a few feet every minute, until you're only four or five people away from where Hawks sits behind a long table. 

You have to admit, the guy is pretty cute. 

Cuter than the fan-cams make him out to be, even. 

Sandy blonde hair, sharp gold eyes, and big wings. There's no doubt in your mind he's showboating, but as people approach the table, you notice this hesitant twitch ripple through the red feathers every time someone gets a little too close. 

That cringe from earlier washes over your face again as a girl reaches over the table to roughly run her fingers across one of his flight feathers. 

It's Keigo's least favorite part of all this. 

I mean, there's a part of him that gets it. He's the #2 Hero in all of Japan. He's a big deal. He's top of the popularity polls, he's the people's bird, y'know? He's a marketed commodity that sells out each and every time. 

But, that doesn't mean he likes being touched.

Especially the wings. Hands off the wings.

"Hey, Hayami?" you ask, tilting your head up as you both step forward.

You can feel the sudden nervousness creeping up on Hayami as he nods and looks down at you. "Y-Yea?"

"Make sure you ask for permission if you touch his wings, okay?" you say gently, muscling him down from your shoulders and doing a once over on his mini-Hawks cosplay, "And remember to tell him your name!"

Hayami nods, his nerves palpable as he realizes the two of you are next. 

On instinct, his hand shoots out and grips yours for dear life. 

And then, one of the marketers waves the two of you forward.

The first word that comes to Keigo's mind is MILF. You're cute. Real cute. Definitely not the usual sort he meets at conventions, and definitely not the usual sort that buys a ticket to his meet-and-greets. The kid clinging to your arm is arguably even cuter, and Hawks can't hide the blooming grin on his face when the pair of you step forward.

"Woa-ho!" he yaps from behind the patterned table, "Dude! Nice outfit!"

Hayami is panicking. You can tell from his shocked silence as the two of you step forward. You bend at the knees, squatting to your nephew's height, then encourage him to go ahead, go on. His big, brown eyes bob from you to Hawks. 

"Go ahead, Hayami," you encourage softly, "Say hi."

Oh, shit. You're really cute. Is this your kid? Nah, no way. You're way too young to be his mom. Unless—

You've seriously got him weighing the pros and cons of step-fatherhood and he doesn't even know your name. 

He could do stepdad shit at twenty-six. Right?

"Hi, Mr. Hawks," comes the shy voice of the mini Hawks before him; the sandy blonde's chest clenches. 

This is too fuckin' cute.

"Heh, hey kid," he chirps back, leaning forward on the table as his mouth curves into a friendly grin; Hawks' eyes are trained on the kid's growing smile, "What's your name?"

"H-Hayami."

"It's cool t' meetcha, Hayami," Hawks parrots as your own proud smile grows. There's relief flooding your shoulders. Thank god, Hayami didn't choke the clutch moment, "I like your wings, lil' dude!"

Hayami gives a little turn, wiggling his prized, handmade possession. His confidence is building; the compliment lights the kid's cheeks up. 

"My aunt helped me make them!" Hayami chatters, his eyes brightening from behind the flight goggles strapped to his head, "She says I need to ask for your permission to touch your feathers!"

Keigo's gold eyes slip to your face. You give him an apologetic grimace, your eyes flicking to the girl beyond the VIP area still screaming about how she touched him, she touched Hawks, oh my god. You mouth out a silent apology.

Hawks' finds himself a little speechless. Doesn't happen often. 

He's not used to having some say in how he's objectified and consumed.

A sandy brow quirks as he pushes his yellow-tinted visor up, and into his hair. He seems shocked. It's not an expression you've seen on the #2 before — and in the last few weeks, you've seen plenty of Hawks content during Hayami's cosplaying journey. The reference material is pretty expansive.

"That's real considerate, chickadee — I appreciate that," his voice is soft; his smile is a little looser, "C'mere, Hayami, you wanna hold a feather while I sign your poster?"

This is, like, the best day of Hayami's life. 

Hawks brings his visor back down. 

You stand to full height, wringing your purse's strap, watching Hayami hold both hands out as one of the delicate pieces of plumage floats into his hands on command. He cradles it like treasure, his big brown eyes glimmering with new-found amazement. 

You step forward, and place a hand on Hayami's shoulder as he gently ushers his hands toward your face. "Ti, look, isn't this, like, the coolest thing ever — it's one of Hawks' feathers!"

Hawks' eyes flick up to the two of you as his pen darts across the two VIP package posters. There's a smirk on his face as he pays half attention to the task of signing. 

And scribbling his number on the back of one.

"I see that," you chuckle, leaning in to inspect the beautiful, crimson feather, "Make sure you say th—"

Before you finish your sentence, the very feather in question darts up to tickle the tip of your nose. Your immediate reaction is to scrunch your nose and grin. It's not so much ticklish as it is gentle. For good measure, Hawks gives Hayami a little brush on the cheek, too. The boy descends into delighted laughter, allowing the feather to zip back through the air and into its designated place in his wings. 

Hawks is smirking.

"Alright you two," comes the level voice of the marketer; the camera in her hands is bulky, and a signifier that their time meeting #2 is nearly up, "Let's get in nice and close for a photo!"

The table proves to be a bit of a pain, but you bend down to Hayami's height as Hawks leans over the table and gives you both bunny ears. The camera flash burns bright in your eyes as Hayami's hand darts into yours again. 

"Here you two go," Hawks rumbles easily; he's standing now, and you find yourself yet again struck by how handsome he is. He smells like summer air and some expensive cologne you'll probably never know the name of. Definitely one of his sponsors. 

You take both posters, as Hayami's excitement seems to overflow and he's nearly buzzing with excitement to know he has Hawks' autograph. The boy bounces at your heels as he clutches his signed copy of the annual convention poster. His big, brown eyes are wide with pure joy. 

"Thank you!" Hayami chatters, "You're the best, Hawks!"

"Thank you," you smile, taking your own poster as Hayami's hand rockets back into yours.

"Nah, it's nothin', chickadee. Thanks for the manners," he calls after you with a touch of good humor, "You're real sweet."

"No problem!" you stutter out, thrown entirely by the compliment, as one of the other marketers guides you towards the exit with a hand on your back. 

"Oh, hey! One last thing!"

You flick your eyes back over your shoulder as you're shuffled out of the meet-and-greet.

You watch Hawks mouth 'check the poster', and with a hand held up to the side of his face. Then, 'call me'. 

"You're kidding me."

Hayami is finally asleep — and your sister is closing the door to his darkened bedroom as she hisses the words out. You're leaning against the hallway wall, arms crossed and looking entirely exasperated.

"I can't just call him," you say softly as you kick off the wall and follow her into the kitchen, "This isn't, like, the hot waiter who leaves his number on the receipt—"

"No, it's even better," she chatters, moving towards the unfinished glass of wine that sits on the dinner table, "I swear to god if you don't pick up that phone and call him right now—"

It's your brother-in-law who speaks up from the couch. "What's stopping you?"

"I don't know, being chronically single?" you cry as you throw your hands, "I haven't gotten a wax in months—"

"You seriously think #2 cares?" comes your sister's flat reply.

Your brother-in-law mimics her affectation. He throws a finger in the air. "Real heroes don't care."

The two of them high-five. 

...They're probably right.

You suck your teeth as you cross your arms again and weigh your options.

I mean — it's only eight o'clock. It's early. And it's a Friday. 

It could go two ways — you break your year-long dry spell with the #2 pro-hero in the country, or it's a total bust and he turns out to be a massive weirdo. Both are frankly pretty entertaining. 

You chew your lip.

Then, you decide.

You kick off the wall and move towards your phone in the kitchen. It's sitting beside the poster. 

"Oh my god, are you doing it?" your sister calls from the couch, her hand gripping her husband's arm tightly.

"I'm doing it," you say, ignoring the bite of nervousness in your hands as you type in the cell number that was scrawledhastily on the back of the poster. 

"Ohmygod."

It's ringing.

Suddenly, you have an audience. Your sister and brother-in-law are crowding you, their faces wide and expectant as it continues to ring. You pull your thumb to your mouth, pushing your bottom lip between your teeth. You let it ring, and ring, and just when you settle that you're being sent to voicemail, there's a click and a voice.

"'Ello?"

Your sister slams her hand into her husband's back, the two of them scrambling in a sudden flash of limbs and excitement. You drag your thumb across your throat — gesturing for them to cut it out. 

"Uh, hi," you fumble, "Is this... Hawks?"

Suddenly, there's a bark of laughter on the other line. "The one and only. Who's this?"

A slow smirk tugs at your cheeks. "I checked the back of the poster — a bold move, y'know."

"Convention Cutie!" he practically cheers, "Hold on, hold on — gimme two seconds, lemme just land."

Your lips part and you blink. The mental image is a hell of a thing. You swallow down a bought of amusement. "Sure, sure, take your time."

Keigo was starting to doubt you'd actually call him. The convention wrapped up hours ago, and he already made himself busy by exploring the southern city. It's nice here. A little bit like his hometown. Not too much crime, which has made for a pretty uneventful evening.

Until now.

His boots touch down on the nearby rooftop and he settles into an easy squat. His wings tuck themselves tightly against his back. 

You can hear a bit of wind bristle against his end of the receiver. 

"Alright, alright, sorry," he rumbles out, "Now you've got my full, undivided attention—"

You tug on your bottom lip. Your sister and brother-in-law are entirely hooked on the little bits they're overhearing from their spot across the counter. Your sister takes a long drink of her wine.

"Am I... being a bit of a distraction?" you ask, "If now isn't a good time—"

"You've been a distraction all day," comes the smooooooth reply; even Keigo's proud of himself for that one, "I'm just out for a fly. Nothin' too serious. I am glad you called, though."

Oh, fuck. Your knees feel like jello. You white-knuckle grip the counter as your sister gnashes her teeth and mimics biting her fist in silent mimery.

"Yea?" you pry, fanning yourself as you lean farther against the counter. 

"Yea, definitely," Hawks grins as he tips his head back and checks out the stars, "You busy tomorrow night? I'd love to take you out to dinner."

There's a commotion across the kitchen. The two of them are smacking one another's arms, their genuine excitement is palpable as they try to stay quiet. They're failing.

"I'd love that, Hawks."

This is new for him.

Technically speaking, you're not a fan. Your nephew is. So, this doesn't technically qualify as one of those unspoken hero faux pas. Don't date fans. Then again, what does it matter? He can do whatever he wants. 

And you're cute. And nice. And kind. And maybe he's being a sap, but seeing you with your nephew made something in his heart tighten. He didn't even notice he was making a nest of scrapped trash from the posters around his seat until the afternoon was over. 

God, sometimes the evolutionarily deep, bird DNA thing is weird.

Hawks lets out a tight breath he didn't realize he was holding. 

"Cool. Okay. Uh, you... you chill with, like, 7pm?" he fiddles with his visor, "I'm... I'm free whenever so..."

He sounds nervous. Your grin is so bright it could outburn the sun. 

"That works for me," you say as you fiddle with your lip, "As far as dress code goes... Do I, like, need a flight suit?"

His laugh is warm. 

"No, no, I — I was gonna get us an Uber," his voice lilts into something more mischievous, "Unless..."

"Maybe after dinner," you remark easily, swaying side to side, "You can show me what those wings do?"

Oh, smooth. Real smooth. Keigo's face is warm. His wings in question twitch eagerly at the invitation. 

"You gonna ask before you touch?" he teases back into the receiver, his brow raised.

It's your turn to laugh. "Hey, it's called being polite."

"I appreciate it," he rumbles out, about earlier at the convention, "Seriously. People are grabby — these things are sensitive..."

"Making a mental note of that, and filing it away," you flirt openly as your sister cheers silently, "For after dinner, maybe."

Keigo's brain stutter-steps. His laugh is surprised. He's about to comment on how you might just be the girl of his dreams when suddenly the wail of sirens perks up his attention. It's two blocks over. Three fire engines. The wind is carrying the smell of acrid smoke. 

"Hey, chickadee, I, uh... I gotta go," he says, standing and allowing his attention to drift to the scene playing out in front of him; it's a house fire — must be — on the southern side of town, "I'll text you the spot for tomorrow, is that okay?"

"Of course, don't let me keep you," you hush, "I'll... text you?"

"I'm countin' on it."

"Bye, Hawks."

"See ya, chickadee."

You didn't even realize you were sweating until you put the phone down.

Your sister and her husband are there, eyes wide. "So?"

"So," you croon as you laugh and pridefully sway your hips, "I have plans tomorrow night."

Their screaming wakes up Hayami.

As you help the kid back to sleep, you keep it secret that he's a better wingman than you could have ever anticipated. 

[hyewka]

𝙗𝙪𝙙𝙙𝙮 𝙨𝙮𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙢 | c.bg

synopsis: wanting to try a new sexual route with your boyfriend but not knowing how to approach the situation drives you to beomgyu—your best friend since the dawn of time, under the rule of what you call a buddy system.

warnings: sub!gyu, dumbification, basically infidelity but they don’t really fuck, butt plug

tags 🏷️ @b3omitus @beomiracles @bambammtori @jakeslvt @subby-men-forever @iijustread @strwbrryjaem @rikiwaify-blog @yyeonzi @skz-smut-reader @kyuuuie @fairfootedflekk @badwicht @handsomejin25 @itaehynz @soobabby

No matter what angle you look at it, it’s weird. You wouldn’t even think of asking for a favor so indecent if it wasn’t—well if it wasn’t him. And maybe that’s the blaring problem.

“What’ya thinking ‘bout?” Beomgyu muffles, mouth stuffed. You quirk your lip, kicking him under the table. "Don't talk with food in your mouth idiot."

He immediately shuts his mouth, but doesn't miss the chance to retaliate and return the kick, only he aims poorly and hits the table leg instead.

You snort, suddenly hit with a wave of nostalgia. It takes you right back to when your biggest problem was hiding a bad report card from your then-overbearing parents and trying to find knock-off drug store products to cover your gross pimples.

A simpler time when all you saw was your best friend across from you, wedged into the booth at Shake N Shack, stuffing his mouth with fries, sauce on the edge of his lips as he rants about some latest absurd conspiracy theory he had stumbled upon online.

“So?” he pulls you out of your reverie, looking up at you once he’s finished chewing. His eyes dart nervously between you and his plate as he swallows the last bite when you keep silent. “Why’re you really here? You haven’t been around much lately.”

You scoff, crossing your arms defensively. "I can't just visit you for old times' sake?"

He exaggeratedly winces. "Damn, already demoted to a nostalgia trip?”

You sigh, feeling a pang of guilt despite the lightheartedness in his tone.

You know Beomgyu— like the back of your hand, like the way your favorite song plays in your mind, you know how he hurts and how he likes to cover it up. Ever since you started dating Youngjae, you’ve completely abandoned him, and so his words hit harder than they should.

“You know what I mean,” you mumble weakly.

“Do I?” he replies, tilting his head. “Last I checked, people don’t usually show up at someone’s door at ten-thirty PM during a thunderstorm just to reminisce for “old times sake”. Are you here to drop some kind of plot twist on me? Did you kill someone? Is this an alibi visit?”

You let out a frustrated groan—leave it to Beomgyu to be as annoying as humanely possible as you try to get him to forgive you for your sins. "No, I didn't kill anyone. I just…I’ve been caught up with y'know like...everything and-”

You pause, glancing at your feet as you try to find the right words, the ones that make this moment make sense. You’d gone over this moment in your head a thousand times, but now, in front of him, it all seems so much harder to say.

“And?” he prompts.

“And in the middle of all the stupid exams and projects, I had this epiphany. Like, holy crap, when was the last time I actually saw my best friend? The one person who gets all my dumb jokes, who knows all my weird habits, and somehow still puts up with me.”

His face visibily softens and he nods slowly, picking at the crumbs on his plate. "Epiphany took a long ass time.”

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. Without thinking, you stand up from your seat and walk over to him. He looks up just in time for you to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. It only takes him a moment before he completely melts into the embrace, his arms circling your waist. “I missed you, you dork,” you whisper into his hair.

He leans into you, seemingly satisfied. “That’s all I get?” he mumbles, his voice muffled against your shoulder, but there’s no mistaking the smile in his words. “A quick hug after you’ve been ignoring your best friend for, like, forever?”

“You’ll get a little present later, besides you love me too much to stay mad.”

He nestles his head against you, his grip around your waist tightening just a bit. “Yeah, I really do.” he murmurs.

The Buddy System.

You don’t know if that rollercoaster is any good? The Buddy System. Beomgyu can go on it and tell you if he thinks it’s possible for you to ride without throwing up right after. Beomgyu’s feeling squeamish over that plate of food? The Buddy System— you’ll try it out for him and accurately determine whether it’s gyu-gestable or …not. Years of practice has had you know exactly what his picky habits can allow him to consume.

Those are the more normal instances you’ve used it, there were other peculiar times like when Beomgyu asked you to test out the temperature of his bathwater—with your elbow, like you were checking a baby’s bath. He stood there, fully clothed, watching you as you leaned over the tub, dipping your elbow into the water with the seriousness of a professional thermometer. “Too hot,” you’d say, adjusting the faucet until he gave a nod of approval.

Actually, now that you’re really going over every instance you’ve used it, you think all of the weird ones were Beomgyu’s doing.

Like the time when it was the summer of senior year, the last summer before you went off to college, Beomgyu had recurring nightmares and was convinced that if you fell asleep holding his hand, you’d somehow end up in his dream and could “fix it” from the inside. You tried to explain that dreams didn’t work that way, but he wouldn’t budge. So, there you were, two grown teenagers, lying in a dark room, hands clasped like some kind of paranormal experiment. It didn’t work, of course, but Beomgyu insisted he slept better knowing you were “on the job.”

So therefore…asking this of him would just…even it out, right? Right?

Beomgyu sits up abruptly, causing the carefully arranged pillows to collapse around him, and a few stuffed animals to topple over onto his lap. His eyes are wide, and his voice cracks as he practically yelps, "What?"

Holy shit, who are you kidding.

“This was the little present?”

You shift uncomfortably in the small, now even more cramped space, suddenly wishing you could burrow into the pile of blankets and disappear. “It’s weird, I know, like really weird and it’s okay if you don’t want to. I just thought—”

You take a deep breath. “I just—I want to try it with him and—I don’t know, maybe it won’t feel good and-"

“You thought I’d be the one to—” he waves the box around, his voice higher than usual, “—to test this out for you?”

“I mean, buddy system, right?” you offer weakly, your confidence crumbling completely. “We’ve done other things for each other… not like this, but…” your voice trails off as you fidget with the edge of the blanket beneath you.

Beomgyu just blinks at you. And in the long, awkward silence that follows you realize how absurd your request sounds. Hey, can you try out this butt plug for me because my faith in this relationship with my boyfriend is so fragile I’m afraid I might ruin it completely by doing the normal thing of suggesting and exploring different ways of pleasuring each other? Don’t forget that it’s a butt plug! I’m asking you to insert something up in your ass. Up your ass.

The fairy lights cast soft shadows on his face—he’s staring at you, but you’re too caught up in your embarrassment to notice the way his gaze lingers just a little too long, or how eventually, his expression softens.

Before he can stop himself, he blurts out, “Does he know you’re here?”

You freeze, caught off guard. “Who?”

“Your boyfriend,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “Does he know you’re here? With me?”

“Uh, no… he doesn’t,” you admit, shifting uncomfortably again. “I mean, it’s late, and I just wanted to see you. It’s not a big deal, right?”

Beomgyu swallows hard, his gaze dropping to the stuffed bear in his lap, which seems to be staring back at him with wide, unblinking eyes. “Yeah… right. No big deal.”

The silence stretches on, thick and awkward, until finally, he lets out a long, exaggerated sigh. “Okay,” he resigns. “This is, hands down, the weirdest thing you’ve ever asked me to do, but… yeah, okay. I’ll do it.”

You blink again, not expecting him to actually agree. “Wait, seriously?” A huge smile breaks across your face as you lean forward, your excitement palpable. “I can’t believe you’re actually saying yes! Oh my god, Gyu, thank you! I thought for sure you were going to think I was crazy and—”

But then, almost as quickly as your excitement flared up, it dims slightly, and you glance at him with a more serious expression. The guilt’s creeping up. “You know you don’t have to do this, right? It’s been a while since we’ve hung out and I mean, I don’t want you to feel like I’m forcing you or anything—”

"Are you holding a gun to my head?”

“No, but-"

“Then I’m fine,” he says, though his voice softens as he adds, “Seriously, it’s okay. I’ll do it. Who cares.”

You pout looking at your best friend because for the millionth time in your life, you feel that familiar warmth in your chest at the reassurance that no matter what, Beomgyu’s always there to back you up.

“You’re the best, Gyu. You don’t even know it yet, but you’ll probably be responsible for our wedding,” you say, sighing dreamily, “I’ll make sure to shout you out.”

Suddenly, his expression changes. He frowns deeply, and before you can process it, he grabs the nearest plushie—a soft, squishy bear—and hurls it at you with a grumble. “Yeah, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Your mouth falls open at the bear hitting you square in the chest. The audacity! But before you can even think about launching a counterattack, Beomgyu is already on the move.

In one swift motion, he snatches up the pink box, waving it above his head like a white flag of retreat, quickly scrambling out of the fort, the pillows and blankets collapsing behind him in his rush to escape.

You take back everything nice you’ve thought of him thirty seconds ago.

Beomgyu’s cheeks are a bit pink when he comes back twenty minutes later, and you notice it when you look up from your phone, where you’ve been meticulously studying the app’s settings. He looks uncharacteristically bashful, avoiding your gaze as he settles back in with you— the fort looking almost as good as it did before Beomgyu nuked it and ran away.

“Did you put it in?” you ask, trying to gauge his reaction.

He glances at you briefly before quickly looking away, the blush on his cheeks deepening. "Yup. Lubed it up pretty well."

You raise an eyebrow, skeptical. "Did you really, or are you fucking with me?"

Beomgyu's response is immediate, and a little too defensive. "Do you want me to show you my asshole or something? I have it in!"

"God, okay!" you say in exasperation, throwing your hands up in mock surrender.

Your mood takes a complete flip as you grin wickedly, wiggling your phone, the app open and ready. "So... ready for the fun part?"

His eyes widen slightly, and you catch the way his breath hitches as he realizes what you mean. His cheeks flush even more as he swallows hard. "Wait, you're not actually gonna…”

There isn’t any incentive for him to lie but you still don’t fully believe him. You’ve heard that first times have guys struggling a little, he’d be a lot more fidgety than he is now. You narrow your eyes as you glance from your phone to his face, experimentally turning up the setting to its highest volume, just to see if he's really telling the truth.

The reaction is immediate. Beomgyu's eyes widen in shock, and blood rushes to his cheeks, turning him a deep shade of red. His whole body tenses as he grips the blanket beneath him, his breath hitching.

"Hey! Turn it down! It—it-fuck!" he stammers, his voice strained and breathy as he squirms in place.

You quickly dial back the intensity, watching as he takes a few deep breaths, trying to recover. You didn't mean to push him that far, but now there's no doubt in your mind that he wasn't lying. He really did go through with it.

"I didn't think it'd be that intense," you say, genuinely concerned. "Are you okay?"

He hangs his head low, nodding.

You can't help but giggle at his reaction, though you feel a little guilty for pushing him so hard. "Sorry, I just had to make sure."

He gives you a look that's somewhere between a pout and a glare, still clearly embarrassed. "Well, now you know. It's definitely in, and it's definitely working."

You ruffle his head. "Alright, I won't push it any further. Just let me know when it's too much, okay?"

Beomgyu groans, his voice dropping a little, betraying a note of something more than just embarrassment. "Why do I let you talk me into these things?" he mumbles, mostly to himself.

You ignore him, grinning as you observe him, slowly turning up the vibrations to a slow, steady hum. “Notes? How does it feel?”

Beomgyu stiffens, his eyes widening as the first wave of vibrations hits him. "Oh... my god," he squeaks, his voice shaky and a bit breathless. "This is... this is so weird."

You narrow your eyes. “Bad weird or good weird?”

He looks at you, his bottom lip jutted out into a pout, as if he’s not quite sure how to articulate what he’s feeling. “It’s just… weird, okay? Full. Like, not bad but… not normal either. It’s… it’s like—ugh, why are you making me explain this?”

You fold your arms, deciding to push him a little more to get the information that you actually want. “Is it, like, ‘I can get used to this’ weird, or ‘please stop this right now’ weird?”

Beomgyu huffs, clearly flustered. “I don’t know! It’s… kind of both? Like… it’s weird, but maybe kind of good? I don’t know!” He’s squirming now, obviously uncomfortable but not entirely hating it either.

“So…you’re saying you’re into it?” you tease, leaning in closer with a mischievous grin, wiggling your brows playfully.

The words slip out before you can fully think them through, the playful energy between you both making it easy to forget the boundaries that normally exist. Especially considering that you have a boyfriend of seven months waiting at home.

You’re too far gone to care.

His eyes widen even more, his blush deepening as he quickly shakes his head, shuffling away from you a bit. “N-no! I mean… not like that, I just—” His voice trails off, and he swallows hard, clearly struggling to find the right words.

You bite your lip, gradually increasing the intensity, curious. His expression tightens, and a soft, involuntary moan escapes his lips before he can stop it.

"Okay, okay, that's... that's enough!" he says, his voice a mix of panic and something more, his breathing coming out in quick, uneven gasps as he clearly tries to hold himself together.

Interesting.

A slow smirk spreads across your face, “Just a little more,” you coax. “You’re doing great.”

“Fuck, stop teasing me!” he whines, but his voice is breathier now, and there's a definite edge of something more in the way he looks at you, his pupils slightly dilated.

You watch him, the way he tries to keep his mouth in a thin line, a façade that crumbles the moment you notice the way his left leg shakes— you’re intrigued. You've never seen him like this—so vulnerable, so out of control—and it's both unsettling and fascinating. If there’s a possibility this is exactly how your boyfriend would act with something up his ass, you’d spend hundreds on a collection.

You clear your throat, realizing its been silent for too long. “So?”

He’s fast to catch on. “I—I don’t hate it. I think it’s hitting my prost—holy shit, d-did you just turn it up again?”

You hesitate, your gaze shifting away from his. “No…” you mumble, the lie unconvincing even to your own ears. The accusatory stare he gives you is impossible to ignore, burning through your feigned innocence.

Eventually, you give in, sighing in defeat. “Alright, only to a different rhythm. Is it worse? Should I—”

You pause abruptly when you see his reaction. Beomgyu’s eyes tightly screw shut, his jaw clenching and for a moment, you worry that you’ve pushed too far, that this time you’ve actually overstepped. But then he lets out a breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

“If it was worse, you would be pure evil but uh—no, no, it’s okay. It’s… better.”

You can’t let the genuine relief washing over you run its full course because you feel a spark of something more exciting running down your spine. You gulp— the hot, stuffiness of the fort becomes increasingly unbearable by the minute. “Better?”

He nods, though his movements are slow, deliberate, like he's testing the waters before fully committing to his answer. "Yeah... better," he repeats, his voice more certain this time. His eyes flutter open, and a cute, determined face replaces the more bashful Beomgyu you were getting pretty comfortable playing with.

For the second time tonight, an awkward silence overtakes you both and he leans back against the pillows, fiddling nervously with the drawstrings of his hoodie, his fingers picking at the fabric as if trying to find some distraction.

The silence stretches on until suddenly, Beomgyu moves. Without warning, he starts to pull at the hem of his hoodie, yanking it up and over his head in one swift motion.

“Whoa, whoa, what’re you doing?” you blurt out as you watch him toss his hoodie to the side, leaving him in just a thin undershirt. You’re completely caught off guard, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him, the sight of his flushed skin and tousled hair making your heart, for the first time, race.

For …Beomgyu.

He looks back at you, sheepish. “It’s hot,” he says simply.

You blink, still processing. “Yeah, but…” you trail off, realizing you don’t really have an argument. The air’s pretty darn thick and stifling.

“Okay, fair enough,” you say finally, trying to play it off with a casual shrug. “I mean, it is pretty warm in here.”

“…Right.”

You’re acting weird. Even Beomgyu’s noticing. You’re losing the upper hand.

“Uh, th-there’s another setting,” you stammer, quickly looking down at your phone in your hand, avoiding his gaze. “Wanna try it out? To see which one feels better.”

He hums in approval, his response casual, almost nonchalant, like he's confident nothing can catch him off guard.

But that confidence doesn’t last long.

The second you make the switch, his body jolts, a gasp slipping out before he can stop it. “How…how is it?” you ask anyway.

Beomgyu’s response is more of a whimper than anything else, his lips parting as he struggles to form coherent words. “It’s…oh god…it’s—" His voice catches in his throat, and it happens again. Loud and unrestrained. This time, it’s unmistakable.

Beomgyu's eyes widen in horror as the sound leaves his lips, his hand flying up to clap over his mouth in a desperate attempt to stifle any more noises. His cheeks flush a deep, burning red, and you can see the sheer embarrassment etched into his expression as he tries to hide his face, mortified by his own reaction.

You didn’t plan this. Not at all. But you cannot for the life of you even get yourself to feel an ounce of guilt for the way your underwear uncomfortably sticks to your heat.

Your gaze drops lower, and there it is-the clear strain in his pants, “Uh…Gyu…?” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as your eyes flicker back up to his face.

Your mind is spinning, caught between disbelief and the sudden rush of arousal that floods right to your lower abdomen.

Beomgyu doesn't respond immediately. He's too busy fighting his own body, his breaths coming in shallow, rapid gasps as he tries to regain some semblance of control. His hand remains firmly over his mouth, his eyes squeezed shut as if he's trying to will himself to disappear, to erase the moment that just happened.

It's overly dramatic, of course-classic Beomgyu, always a tinge extra when he's overwhelmed. But instead of finding it annoying like you might have at any other time, it strikes you as incredibly…endearing.

The way his reactions are so genuine, so unguarded, makes him seem almost innocent in a way that tugs at your heart. He looks like a confused, flustered puppy than anything else.

The way he's covering his mouth, is almost comical in its futility-especially when another small, muffled whimper slips past his fingers. “Beomgyu,” you call out, your voice soft but insistent. “I need you to look at me.”

"I-I can't—" he stammers, his voice barely above a whisper as he tries to form coherent thoughts. "This is... it's t-too much..."

You tilt your head, “Do you want me to turn it off?”

“No! Just... I don't know..." he breathes out, his voice strained, as if he's not entirely sure what he's asking for. “Please.”

Something stirs within you, and before you know it, you’re moving closer to him, reaching out your hand to rest on his arm—you think it’d help comfort him. But he only takes that opportunity to bury his head in your neck a few seconds later.

Your heart pounds in your chest but you try to not give it any more attention. You’re supposed to be here for your friend.

“You’re doing so well, Beom,” you whisper, your voice steady and reassuring as you gently rub his arm. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. It’s just us here—you can let go. It’s just me.”

A soft, almost cute whimper escapes him as he nods against you, his breath warm against your skin.

Beomgyu's eyes flutter shut, and you can tell your words are having an effect on him, his resolve crumbling with each passing second, the twitch in his pants making it clear he’s barely holding on. “It’s okay,” you reassure.

Maybe it’s not. But you technically weren’t doing anything physical—it’s not wrong on your behalf, right? But as you rub your thighs subtly, trying to relieve something, that guilt is just as incessant.

You watch the way Beomgyu’s hand moves—hesitantly at first, as if he's not sure what he's doing or if he should even be doing it. But then he turns his head up to look at you, and you’re once again, caught off guard. His eyes look like they’re searching for something, focus shifting from one place to another. And you’re left feeling like you’re under a microscope, until it seems like he found what he��s looking for because his fingers finally brush against the waistband of his pants.

“Are you—are you sure this is okay?” he asks softly. And you nod. Almost too fast.

Maybe you should close your eyes. If not for the respect of the relationship that you’ve completely forgotten of once you had Beomgyu in your arms, at least for your best friend’s pride.

Actually, you don’t think he minds. If the strangled groan that comes out his pretty lips were anything to go by. He fumbles for his hard, aching cock, flinging it out and stroking it furiously almost the second he gets his hands on it and your eyes only manage to widen at the sight.

For lack of better words, you gawk.

“It’s not disappointing or anything, huh?” he tries to joke, but his breaths too strung out, too gone for even that.

Your mouth dries. Far from it.

This is the one time your boyfriend comes to mind in a while, and its not favorable. Beomgyu’s not bigger—he’s not small either, but that’s not your focus—rather the pearly bead that bubbles atop of the tiny slit, the head a deep pink, the way its veins pulses as his pace falters at your silence. That small bead of fluid oozing down his shaft, tracing the lines of the delicate veins. The curves, every little detail. He’s perfect. More perfect than you’ve ever seen.

It seems you took way too long for Beomgyu’s liking and self confidence so he looks elsewhere, “Is…it?”

You blink, almost forgetting your predicament, lost in your admiration of him. "No, no, of course not. It's—it's pretty," you reply, your words tumbling out in a rush as you try to reassure him.

But instead of calming him, your words have the opposite effect. His shoulders shake, and suddenly, he's burying himself back into your shoulder, his hand completely abandoning his cock. "H-hahh-" he pants, his breath hitching as he begins to hiccup, overwhelmed by his emotions.

“Are you—are you crying?”

“You just called my dick pretty,” he seems to sob a bit more at that, soaking your shirt, feeling the dampness spreading across your chest. “You hate it. It looks bad.”

You're at a loss for words, completely thrown by his reaction. You struggle to pry him off you, your hands gently but firmly gripping his shoulders as you try to pull back just enough to look him in the face. "What?! No!" you exclaim, your voice rising with urgency. "Pretty means pretty. Fuck, don't cry, it's perfect, Beomgyu. It looks perfect, I swear."

His hiccups slow as your words sink in, and you can see the tension in his shoulders begin to ease. He sniffles softly, wiping at his tears with the back of his hand, his breathing gradually becoming steadier. As the emotional intensity lessens gradually, you with no control of your own, redirect your attention to his poor cock. It’s rock hard. He looks like he needs some soothing so you think to do the sensible thing. The…right thing?

Beomgyu lets out a small, shaky laugh, trying to lighten the mood despite everything that's just happened. "Man... I think this plug’s really messed with my vulnerability or something," he jokes weakly, his voice still wavering as he tries to regain his composure. “Had me crying pretty fas—"

His rant pauses at a hilt. He meets your gaze as you fully wrap your hand around his shaft after he just witnessed you quickly spit on your palm.

He doesn’t question it. At all. In fact, the moment your hand’s on him, there’s no hesitation in the way he spreads his legs wider, his pants responsively moving down to pool around his ankles.

A soft, whiny sound escapes him, and he leans into your touch, his eyes drooping, face contorting cutely. “O-oh…I…I..”

“Shhh, I got you pretty,” you whisper. His cock’s soft to the touch, and wet. When you glide your hand up and down, even slowly, it makes an unpleasantly wet, dirty sound.

He’s very reactive to the endearing nickname that feels almost too natural slipping out of your lips of all people. “P-pretty..” he repeats, sighing, almost dazedly. A complete goner.

You squeeze him and he lets out another needy, low moan and wraps his arms around your waist. Your heart pounds at how clingy he is, it feels like it’s about to burst. "Ahhh...f-fuck…” He moans against your neck, a highly pitched sound only a woman could make, feeling a trail of saliva traveling down from the corner of his mouth.

You almost cum untouched at the sight of him, at the pretty, almost perfectly described as heavenly sinful sounds he’s making. A sheen of sweat has formed on his forehead, his hair damp at the edges, and it somehow makes him look better.

His body tenses beneath your touch, you can feel the warmth of his skin, the sweat slicking his brow, and the way his breath catches in his throat. Then, suddenly, he lets out a choked cry, his voice breaking as he bucks his hips just slightly. The movement is involuntary, desperate, as if his body is moving on its own, seeking out the final bit of friction it needs.

And then it happens.

Beomgyu gasps sharply, his body going rigid as he reaches his peak. He shudders violently, his chest heaving as he shoots strings of his load, the warm, sticky fluid spilling out. You react quickly, instinctively guiding the release towards him, watching as it lands all over his tummy and a bit on his chest.

You're struck by how quickly it happened—how you'd only had him in your hand for a few seconds before he came. His chest heaves, his breathing ragged and uneven as he slowly comes down from the high.

For a moment, there's nothing but the sound of his breathing, the soft rise and fall of his chest as he tries to steady himself.

Finally, he looks down at the mess on his stomach and chest, a soft, almost sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

And for whatever reason, that has an effect on you. He looks so endearing in this moment—his lips slightly parted, his lashes brushing against his flushed skin, his hair perfectly tousled and falling over his eyes—

You're completely lost in the sight of him, practically mesmerized by how perfect he looks and your mind starts to drift until suddenly his voice breaks through your thoughts.

"Did you hear me?" he asks. "Doofus, turn it off. It's starting to make my asshole sore."

Your romantic daze shatters like glass.

Blinking rapidly, your face transforms into a shocked scowl, the absurdity of the situation hitting you all at once. "Wait, what?" you stammer.

Beomgyu raises an eyebrow at you, clearly expecting a response. But as the moment stretches on, your brain lags behind as you try to process what he just said.

Then it clicks.

"Oh, right!" you gasp, fumbling with your phone as you quickly find the app and turn off the plug, mortification creeping up your spine. What an absolute bust.

a/n: well well well. in the first draft he was made to eat his own cum but i felt maybe this fic wasnt the one for that😊😊 Unfortunately for some, fortunate for others🤔 anyway tell me how u enjoyed beomgyu getting his ass stimulated in a poorly made fort lol

[chosok-amo]

THE FUN THING BOUT HAVING TWO BOYFRIENDS: GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

there's one thing you like the most about having two boyfriends: dressing them up looking like twins and you often do that to your two boyfriends

[☆] MASTERLIST

dating the two most powerful sorcerers in the world was never part of your plan. yet, here you were, navigating the complexities of being in a relationship with both gojo satoru and geto suguru. It all started during your second year at tokyo jujutsu high. you, a skilled jujutsu sorcerer with a penchant for manipulating objects, find yourself increasingly drawn to the two enigmatic seniors. satoru, with his silver hair and azure eyes, exuded a playful confidence that was both intoxicating and infuriating. suguru, on the other hand, possessed a calm, commanding presence that grounded you in ways you never thought possible.

what began as a close friendship quickly blossomed into something more, something deeper. the three of you were inseparable, bound by the unspoken understanding that came with sharing the burdens and responsibilities of the jujutsu world. late-night training sessions turned into stolen kisses, and mission debriefs became quiet moments of connection. before you knew it, you were in a relationship with both of them, an arrangement that was as unconventional as it was exhilarating.

the one thing you enjoyed the most about this unique relationship? dressing them up to look like twins.

your love for fashion was no secret. you adored experimenting with different styles and looks, and having two handsome boyfriends was like having your own personal runway show. satoru and suguru, for all their differences, shared a similar physique, making it easy to dress them in coordinating outfits. they indulged your whims, sometimes with a smirk, other times with a playful roll of the eyes, but always with a willingness that made your heart swell.

you remember the first time you suggested the idea. It was a lazy sunday afternoon, and the three of you were lounging in satoru's expansive living room. suguru laying at the end of the couch with a book in hand and glasses covered his eyes, while you and satoru at the other end with you sitting between satoru's leg while he watches some movies. his large pale arm wrapped around your waist as he give your neck and shoulder a kisses from time to time.

you had been flipping through a fashion magazine, occasionally showing them outfits you thought would look good on them. satoru darted his eyes from the tv to look at the magazines at your hands. he smiles when he sees the man's clothes catalog. satoru, ever the joker, suggested you dress them up, “don't you think it would be cute for you to dress us up like a twins, baby?” he asks as he kisses your cheeks before pulling you closer. his eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was a genuine curiosity in his gaze. suguru, more reserved but no less intrigued, nodded in agreement.

“you think?” you ask, looking up.

he shrugged, “i don't mind, I think it's cute, don't you suguru?” he nudges suguru feet that tangled with his and yours with his feet. suguru looks up from his book.

“why not?” he said, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. he looks at you smiling from his book, getting up for a moment to give your lips a quick kiss. “could be fun.”

from that day on, it became a tradition. whenever you had the chance, you'd scour boutiques and online stores for matching outfits, relishing the challenge of finding pieces that complemented both of them. casual streetwear, elegant suits, even traditional kimonos—no style was off-limits. each time they donned the twin outfits, you felt a surge of pride and joy, knowing that they did it for you, that they trusted you enough to share in this playful part of your relationship.

one sunny morning, you decided it was time for another twin-themed day. you had found the perfect outfits: sleek black turtlenecks, tailored grey slacks, and matching leather jackets. the simplicity of the ensemble highlighted their natural charisma and physical allure. as you laid out the clothes on the bed, you couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation.

satoru was the first to emerge from the shower, a towel draped loosely around his hips. his hair, usually gravity-defying, was damp and plastered to his forehead. he grinned when he saw the clothes, blue eyes twinkling with excitement. “looks sharp, baby,” he commented, reaching for the turtleneck.

“I like it.” he put his hand to your back to give you a kiss when the other hand held the clothes. suguru appeared shortly after, freshly showered and toweling off his long, dark hair. he gave you a warm smile, his eyes softening as he took in the outfits.

“you have good taste,” he said, pulling on the slacks. he held your cheeks to kiss you for a second and ended it with a kiss on your forehead. you smiling ear to ear, feeling content with how your boyfriends reacted.

as they dressed, you watched, heart swelling with affection. there was something undeniably charming about seeing them in matching clothes, their distinct personalities shining through despite the coordinated outfits. satoru, with his playful energy, made the ensemble look effortlessly cool, while suguru's quiet strength gave it a touch of elegance.

“well, well, well, it looks like a model needs to find a new job, I mean.. look at my boyfriends,“ you said, once they were fully dressed. “you both look perfect, oh my boyfriends, always so handsome me,” you take a step closer to gives them kiss on the cheeks.

they struck a pose, mirroring each other with exaggerated seriousness, and you burst out laughing. It was moments like these that made all the chaos and danger of your lives as jujutsu sorcerers worth it.

after an enjoyable morning of playing dress-up, you and your boyfriends, decided to visit a newly opened café in Shibuya. as soon as the three of you entered, heads turned and whispers followed, drawn to the striking presence of satoru and suguru in their matching outfits.

at the counter, the cashier, a young woman with a flirtatious demeanor, couldn't hide her interest as satoru confidently approached to place the order. he flashed her a charming smile, his charisma undeniable as he ordered for the three of you.

“three lattes, please,“ Satoru said, his voice smooth and warm. “and a couple of your best pastries. do you want anything more, baby?” he asked you, his hand gently resting on yours in a tender gesture. you smiled, feeling the affectionate touch. “that sounds perfect, toru.”

meanwhile, suguru stood beside you, casually placing his hand on your waist as he made his own selection from the menu. the cashier's initial interest wavered as she realized suguru was also your boyfriend, her demeanor shifting slightly. as you waited for your order, you settled into a cozy corner booth with satoru and suguru. the atmosphere was vibrant and welcoming, the café buzzing with conversation and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

“you two certainly know how to attract attention,” you teased lightly, leaning against satoru's shoulder as suguru sat beside you. suguru chuckled softly, his gaze warm as he looked at you. “blame it on satoru's charm and your irresistible company, baby.” satoru grinned playfully, his arm wrapping around you. “can't help it if we make a good-looking trio, right?” the waitress soon arrived with your lattes and pastries, setting them down with a polite smile.

as the waitress hurried off after taking your order, satoru and suguru exchanged amused glances with you, their eyes twinkling with shared amusement. It was clear that the cashier had taken a shine to them, but they seemed unfazed, content in each other's company. suguru chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“looks like we've got an admirer.”

satoru flashed a playful grin, his arm draped casually around your shoulders. “can you blame her? we do make quite the impression.” you couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head at their playful confidence. “you two are shameless.” suguru raised an eyebrow, his expression teasing. “oh, come on. You know you love being with the most sought-after guys in the room.” satoru leaned closer, his voice low and playful.

“and we're all yours, sweetheart.”

you rolled your eyes affectionately, enjoying the banter. “lucky me, huh? I'll have to fend off all the admirers.” suguru chuckled softly, his hand brushing against yours. “we'll just have to remind them who you belong to.

“Indeed. It's like being with celebrities.”

satoru's voice dripped with playful cockiness as he leaned back in his chair, his grin widening. suguru and you exchanged amused glances, unable to suppress your smiles at satoru's confident charm. “well, you know, it's a burden being this charming.” you rolled your eyes affectionately, enjoying their banter. “oh, I'm sure it's so tough.” suguru chuckled softly, his hand gently squeezing yours.

“well, aren't we lucky,” suguru replied with a hint of dry humor, his tone light and teasing. you chuckled softly, shaking your head. “ I guess I'll have to get used to the paparazzi following us around.” satoru laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “hey, it's not easy being this famous. but someone's got to handle the attention.”

suguru shook his head in disbelief, “so humble, satoru.”

“suguru, my man, it's not easy being this charming,“ satoru quipped with a playful grin, leaning back in his chair as he sipped his latte. the corner of suguru's mouth quirked up in a faint smile, amused by satoru's jest.

“you've got a gift, satoru,” you chimed in, unable to hide your own smile at their banter. “but let's not forget who keeps you grounded.” suguru nodded in agreement, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “Indeed. you're the heart and soul of this operation.” satoru chuckled, raising his latte in a mock salute.

“to our humble leader.”

the three of you clinked imaginary glasses, laughter bubbling up as you shared another moment of playful camaraderie. In that cozy corner booth of the café, surrounded by the comforting buzz of conversation and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, you felt an immense gratitude for the love and joy shared between you.

as the day unfolded, filled with more laughter, shared stories, and quiet moments of closeness, you knew that these simple yet profound moments with satoru and suguru were the ones that truly defined your happiness together.

as the day wore on, you found yourself reflecting on how far the three of you had come. there had been challenges, of course—moments of jealousy, misunderstandings, and the ever-present danger of your work as jujutsu sorcerers. but through it all, you had built a bond that was unbreakable, grounded in trust, love, and mutual respect.

dressing them up as twins was a small but significant part of that bond. It was a way for you to express your love, to show them how much they meant to you. and in return, they indulged you, embracing the playful ritual with a willingness that spoke volumes about their feelings for you.

that evening, as you returned home, the three of you settled into the living room, the day's adventures leaving you pleasantly tired. satoru stretched out on the couch, his head resting in your lap, while suguru sat beside you, his arm draped over your shoulders.

“today was fun,” satoru said, his voice drowsy. “we should do it more often.” suguru nodded, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your arm. “agreed. It's important to make time for each other.” you smiled, your heart swelling with love for these two incredible men. “absolutely. And next time, I have the perfect outfits in mind.”

they groaned in unison, but their smiles betrayed their true feelings. dressing them up like twins was a small part of your relationship, but it brought you immense joy. and as long as you had satoru and suguru by your side, you knew that life would always be an adventure.

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLFpggQp/ THIS WITH ETHAN LANDRY OH MY GOSH IM BARKINGGHGGG

I hope you like it💕

Bang It Out - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You buy a card game to play with Ethan. It's innocent at first, until you make it to the spicy ones.

Contains: A hint of angst, teasing, p in v

A/N: Just bought the presale tickets for one of my favorite bands and I'm INTERNALLY SCREAMING right now🥹

You were browsing online trying to find the perfect little date night ideas for you and Ethan. You felt like you’d done just about everything there was to do around campus, and you didn’t want to get bored with doing the same things over and over again. That’s when you came across this couple’s drinking game, where you’d have to choose if you wanted to drink or answer the questions on the cards. Some of the cards even had semi-sexual acts, which you didn’t tell your boyfriend about.

The game was innocent enough, at first. You were surprised that you both weren’t pulling any of the sexual cards, until your boyfriend started to smirk at you as you sat on the living room floor, across from each other.

“Why didn’t you tell me there were spicy questions?” he asked, as you faked shock. “What ever do you mean?” you questioned, as he chuckled and shook his head. “You’re going to love this one…,” he said, as you took a sip of your drink, trying to make your throat a little less dry before he told you want it said. “Rate my head game on a scale from one to ten.”

“Ten,” you said, without skipping a beat. Your quickness to answer made him laugh.

“Oh, it’s that good, huh?” he questioned, as you started to blush.

“You know what you’re doing,” you shrugged, trying to play it off. “My turn.”

You grabbed a card off the stack and started laughing to yourself as he stared you down, “Oh god. What is it?”

“You have to strip down to your boxers and run a lap around the apartment,” you said, letting some of your laughter out, “Or you could take two shots.”

“You’re just trying to get me drunk,” he said, pulling his shirt over his head. “I’ll give you a show if you want it.”

He pushed himself up off the floor and unbuttoned his jeans before slowly sliding the zipper down. His attempts at the fake seduction had you cracking up as he slid them down his hips and kicked his feet out.

“I think I would’ve rather seen you do this,” he said, before he started his jog around the interior of your apartment. You stealthily grabbed your phone off the floor beside you to record him, knowing that it’s something you’d get to laugh at later. “Hey!” he yelled once he made it back to the living room and noticed the phone in your hand. “Delete it.”

“Why would I do that?” you innocently asked, as he darted towards you. He had you pinned on the floor in seconds as you tried to hold your phone away from him, but he snatched it from your hands. “You’re so mean,” you sighed, as he deleted your video.

“It’s gone from your recently deleted, too. You’re not getting that back,” he laughed, handing your phone back to you. “Let’s see what embarrassing thing the cards have in store for you.” He crawled off you, as you let out a soft whine in protest. He eyed you curiously, realizing that him having you pinned down like that must’ve turned you on. “We have to finish the game, babe.”

“Fine,” you groaned, sitting back up. “Hopefully it’s nothing too bad.”

Ethan got settled on the floor again, still in his boxers as he grabbed the card from the top of the stack. “You’re definitely not doing this,” he said, laughing as he showed you the card.

“No fucking way. I’m not calling my parents and moaning your name,” you said, as he passed you the filled shot glass. “Looks like you get to drink, then.”

“Fuck,” you choked out, the alcohol burning as it went down your throat. “Why’d you choose tequila? We have a selection in the kitchen and this is what you decided on?”

“Hey, I thought this game was innocent. I didn’t think either one of us would actually be drinking,” he said, as you sat the shot glass back on the ground in front of you.

The next few cards that you got were very mild in comparison to the last few, some of them just being along the lines of feelings and little things you liked about each other. Then he read off a card that made your heart beat a little faster.

“Show me the last text an ex sent you,” he said, the smirk on his face dropping when he noticed how wide your eyes were. “Uh…has he still been trying to talk to you? I thought you blocked him?”

“It wasn’t a text…it was a DM,” you said, as he rolled his eyes and tried to reach for your phone. “It’s okay, I’ll show you. I just don’t want you to get mad…that’s why I didn’t tell you about it in the first place.”

“Well I’m a little mad if you’re keeping things from me,” he huffed, taking your phone from you once you pulled the message up. “Oh,” he said, rereading the message a few times. “Wait, was this when I went home with you for Christmas?” he asked, looking at you as you nodded. “How’s he going to say you’re dating a loser when he’s the one that couldn’t keep you?”

He started laughing to himself as you heard the keyboard on your phone clicking, your eyes getting wide all over again. “Ethan, what are you doing?” you asked, as he handed you your phone back.

You started to laugh a little as you read the DM he sent back.

You: Is he really a loser if I don’t have to fake my orgasms with him?

“Ethan, I can’t believe you just did that. It’s been months since he sent that to me,” you said, shaking your head as you locked your phone.

“He just needed to be put in his place,” he sighed, “It’s your turn, babe.”

You grabbed another card and started to blush as soon as you saw it. “Shit…okay. You either have to take a shot or clean my inner thigh with your tongue.”

“What am I cleaning off you?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips. “Wait, I know!” He jumped up and ran to the kitchen, coming back with a can of whipped cream in his hand. “Take your jeans off.”

You did as he said, relaxing back onto the floor to unbutton your jeans and shimmy them down your legs.

“I like this game,” he said, crawling towards you. He sprayed the whipped cream along your inner thigh, way more than you expected him to. He started to lick it off, his tongue swirling against you as he inched further up your thigh. Your bottom lip was in between your teeth, not wanting to let out any of the sounds that were building in your throat. “I like whipped cream better when I’m eating it off you,” he said, before pressing his tongue flatly against your thigh, licking the few spots he missed before he sat back up on his knees. “You okay, baby?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, sitting back up. “I think we should wrap this up soon.”

“Just a few more cards, and we’ll stop,” he said, as you sighed out in relief.

“Thank god, I’m dying over here,” you said, the hint of desperation in your voice making Ethan laugh.

“Yeah, like the wet spot on your panties didn’t give that away,” he said, grabbing another card off the stack.

You were struggling to listen to him as he told you what the card said, especially once you noticed he was starting to get hard in his boxers.

“Babe, you listening?” he asked, “It says we have to look up sex positions and act out the first three that pop up.” You perked up at his words when he started to laugh at you, yet again. “We’re keeping our clothes on, though,” he paused, “Well, the clothes we still have on.”

“Ugh, this isn’t fair,” you groaned, as he felt the need to remind you, “You wanted to play this.”

He pulled out his phone and Googled sex poses, the smile on his face making you roll your eyes.

“What are they? And does it say how long we have to do it?” you asked, as he double-checked the card. “It doesn’t say, but maybe like, a minute each? That doesn’t seem like it’d be too much.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” you sighed, “What are the positions?”

“Doggy,” he said, glancing over at you. He knew it was going to be literal torture for you for him to have you bent over like that. “Let’s do that one last,” he suggested, “Reverse Cowgirl, and Rocking Horse.”

“What the fuck is the Rocking Horse?” you asked, as you reached over to grab his phone out of his hands. “Oh…I want to try this one for real,” you said, looking at the position. “Which one do you want to start with?”

“Hmmm, reverse cowgirl?” he questioned, as you crawled over to him. “Lay back, if we don’t have actual sex soon, I’m going to lose it.”

He let out a soft chuckle as he laid back on the floor and you got into the position on top of him. You looked back at him to see him setting the timer on his phone.

“You’re good, babe, you can start,” he said, as you started to rock your hips a little. You almost got caught up in the slight friction your clit was getting before you remembered that you needed to act like you were bouncing on him. You felt him getting harder underneath you, his hands running over your hips and ass as you moved, until the timer went off.

“One down, two to go,” you mumbled, sliding off him.

“I need a minute,” he sighed, looking down at the tent in his boxers. You groaned out in frustration as you laid back on the floor. “You’re killing me!”

“So dramatic,” he mumbled as he sat up. “Come here, babe.” You did as he said, crawling over towards him. “Okay, so you sit in between my legs and face me, put your legs over my thighs,” he paused as you did as he said, “And then I just,” he slid his hands under your legs and grabbed your hips, pulling you closer. “Fuck,” he groaned, looking into your eyes. He loved the closeness of the two of you just tangled up in each other.

“Don’t forget to set the timer,” you reminded him, your breathing getting heavier as the sexual tension got stronger.

“Right,” he said, pulling one of his hands away and fumbling with his phone.

He quickly slid his hand back to your hip as he started to pull you against him. His hooded eyes looked into yours as you moved with him, your pussy brushing against his erection every time. Once the timer went off, he didn’t want to stop. He held onto your hips a little harder before you had the chance to pull away.

“I think we should finish the game later,” he said, as you furiously nodded. “Let me take off my boxers. I want to fuck you like this.”

“No, we’re good like this,” you said, pulling his cock out of his boxers. “I need you so bad.”

“Then I’ll just move these to the side,” he said, adjusting your panties to give him easier access. He ran his fingers over your pussy, gasping when he felt how wet you were.

“Don’t tease me, I can’t take it,” you pleaded, as his hand went back to your hip to pull you closer.

Once he slid inside of you, he stilled as he stretched you out. You leaned forward, your hands going into his hair as you kissed him. It escalated to his tongue fighting with yours until he ultimately won the battle. Your hips started to move, the new position making it easy for him to go deep.

His mouth caught all your moans as you moved with him, the grip on his hair getting tighter with each thrust. You pulled back to catch your breath, his heavy panting and rosy cheeks making you smile.

You moved closer to press your still-clothed chest against his, as your hips rocked. “Shit,” you whimpered, feeling the tip of his cock brushing against the spongy spot inside you. Your sounds got louder as you felt that familiar feeling start to build deep in your tummy.

“I’m so close,” you whined, his hips snapping up even harder. “Look at me, babe,” he said, as you pulled back. “I wanna see your face when you cum.”

He watched your eyebrows knit together as your own thrusts met his half-way, your mouth falling open as your hands on his shoulders started to shake. He felt your pussy start to tighten around him as the euphoric feeling washed over you. He was trying so hard to fuck you through it, but you just kept squeezing him.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, as his grip relaxed on your hips so he could pull out.

You watched his face through your fuzzy, post orgasm haze. His cum shot out, all over your inner thighs and panties.

He pulled you closer to him, not caring that he was covering himself in cum. He just wanted to be close to you as you both caught your breath.

“We never made it to that third position,” you mumbled against him as he started to laugh.

“There was no way it was happening. As soon as you were in this one, I couldn’t hold back anymore.”

[wileys-russo]

floral hearts II a.putellas x reader

based on this request here floral hearts II a.putellas x reader

"gracias." alexia smiled tiredly at the young boy on the register, tapping her card to pay for the bag of groceries sat on the counter in front of her.

a day off was supposed to mean rest. but for alexia it normally meant racing around tying up all the loose ends which seemed to fall apart while she was at training throughout the week.

her car was serviced and washed, apartment tidied and deep cleaned, countless loads of laundry washed, folded and put away. she'd done her groceries and was looking forward to cooking one of her mami's family recipes.

ready to relish in the comfort of a good home cooked meal eaten hot rather than the reheated meal prep she was used to throughout the week when in a rush from one commitment to the other.

but of course in her haste she'd forgotten a few key ingredients, including trash bags and toilet paper which she knew she would need and not have time to grab throughout the week.

so tucked away from prying eyes in a matching hoodie and sweats she'd raced back on foot to the corner store.

alexia's leg bounced impatiently as her payment took time to process, the boy apologizing as she sent him a small smile which never quite met her eyes.

as the machine beeped she sighed assuming that meant it had cleared, but when a large red cross flashed she inhaled sharply as the boy again apologized and fumbled about trying to reset it.

her eyes darting around the store alexia's body began to tense as she noticed a group of teenage boys hovering by the doors, their gazes locked on her and trading cards in hand as her eyes squeezed shut.

they weren't unknown to her, in fact she was hardly surprised to see them given they somehow popped up everywhere and anywhere demanding she sign things for them.

the security at the training complex had photos of them and always knew to shoo them off as alexia wasn't the only player they seemed to target. but today there was only alexia and after brushing them off outside her apartment complex the midfielder knew they wouldn't be giving up so easily.

it wasn't as if they were fans, if they were alexia would have no issues signing a few cards or taking a quick photo with a polite smile. but it was never a photo they were after, or a smile, it was a signature.

a signature on something alexia knew would be copied and pasted from greed, which would then be sold online for money and the boys would re-appear another day and the cycle would start over again.

tapping again alexia was relieved when the payment went through near instantly, quietly assuring the boy it was okay as he apologized again for the trouble and she grabbed her bag.

her lips pursed into a thin line she hadn't even reached the door yet before the begging started, and her stomach clenched seeing two of them with phones up recording the interaction.

ignoring them entirely she breezed past and out the doors, hearing their voices follow after her as she suddenly wished she'd driven rather than walked, their insistent begging only drawing the attention of others.

"not today." alexia shook her head firmly as she was forced to stop at a crossing and they caught up to her, cars zooming across the road preventing her from continuing on forward.

"no photos." alexia pushed away one of the boys phones which was thrust in her face, clearly still recording as they held out pens and cards and continued their begging.

alexias chest tightened as more attention was drawn to her, not missing the judgemental eyes cast upon her by passers by who didn't know the real story, and for a moment alexia considered just signing a few things for the sake of saving her reputation.

but then the crossing turned green and she took off, long legs striding quickly and putting a small bit of distance between her and the boys who hurried after her still yelling, their words harsher now as they accused her of favoritism and refusing to sign because they weren't girls.

eyes darting about for an escape alexia quickly stepped into the flower shop on the corner, hurrying to hide herself as she heard the boys come thundering in after her and she winced, ready to just step out and give into what they wanted if she had any hope of getting home.

but before she could take another step a figure appeared, watering can in one hand and a broom in the other. "oye chicos! none of that in here, out!" you told the boys off sternly and pointed back to the street, knowing too well they weren't going to be customers.

"out!" you repeated firmly, ignoring their protests you remained unwavering, hand pointing to the door with a raised eyebrow as they deflated and retreated, insults slung your way under their breath as you rolled your eyes, door slamming after them with a jingle.

putting the broom down behind the counter alexia watched as you moved about watering some of the plants stacked up near the door, clearly talking to them quietly which caused a small smile to appear on the catalan's face.

the midfielder now finally able to breathe paused for a moment to take in the small store. she'd walked past countless amounts of times and always admired the gorgeous floral arrangements in the window, the bouquets different every day and always with the freshest and in season flowers.

"oh sorry! i didn't hear anyone else come in." you turned around and jumped slightly noticing the blonde hovering a few feet behind you, a slight blush coating your cheeks.

"no no sorry i was just-" alexia stumbled over words trying to explain the situation, a rosy pink blush on her own face as you now faced her and alexia took you in properly.

your hair was pulled back loosely with a cream coloured clip, a few loose strands framing your face and a pair of glasses pushed on the top of your head. your lips were plump and now watching her become so flustered they'd quirked up into a small smile, showcasing two tiny dimples in the corner of your mouth.

"they were bothering you?" your smile turned downward now, manicured eyebrows furrowing as you caught onto what she was trying to say.

"sí. i am so sorry for bringing them in here, it is beautiful and i would have hated if they broke anything." alexia shifted the bag of groceries on her shoulder as you waved her off.

"i am glad you felt safe enough to seek shelter here, please anytime. plus, it is a little hard to break a flower." you teased lightly with a dazzling smile that alexia swore she might move mountains for to see directed her way again.

"can i help you with anything? though i would understand if you'd like to get home now they are gone." you smiled a little softer this time, moving back behind the counter and putting the watering can down.

alexia wracked her brain for an excuse to spend a little more time, quite captivated by your beauty and a little desperate to learn more.

"eh, a plant?" she guessed with an awkward smile. "any particular sort of plant?" you questioned with an amused twinkle in your eyes. "easy to keep alive." alexia attempted a joke, rewarded with a quick peal of laughter from you as you dropped your glasses down onto your nose and nodded for her to follow you.

as you lead her toward the back alexia's eyes were drawn to the dizzying collection of flowers in your arsenal, some of which she hadn't even seen before.

she was amazed at just how perfect all of the arrangements were. never too much greenery, all with a few fresher buds that were yet to flower so they would last longer, intensely bright pops of pinks and orange contrasted with softer tones of lavender and coral.

catching sight of herself in a small mirror alexia's eyes widened in horror and she yanked her hood off her head, running hands through her hair in an attempt to style it.

her face was bare and alexia winced at the deep seeded bags unable to be hidden beneath her eyes, run a little ragged this week with countless commitments outside of football all piling up on top of her which is what had her so in need of this day off in the first place.

"these are all very low maintenance." she caught up to you as you'd reached the back of the shop which was more of a nursery, countless pot plants hanging from the eaves and stacked up on stands, every single shade of green one could imagine.

you started to walk her through the plants which, as requested, were the hardest to kill, explaining how often to water them and where they would best be sat in either direct or filtered sunlight, indoor or outdoor.

but alexia was far too interested in a different sight.

the catalan only looking on with a pining gaze as your mouth moved and your hands gestured from plant to plant, it was as if someone put you on mute as alexia didn't register or hear a single word you said only nodding on dumbfounded.

the footballer studied each little feature of your face, delighting herself as she discovered something new. like the tiny bouquet of tulips tattooed behind your ear, or the tiny crescent moon shaped scar which lay just above your eyebrow.

"do any of those sound like they might work?" you asked, snapping alexia out of it as she panicked and hastily pointed to the first plant she laid eyes on. "one of my favorites." you smiled happily, picking it up carefully and turning to head back toward the counter as alexia hurried after you.

"oh no please, on the house." you gently pushed away her hand, card held between her fingertips ready to pay. "no no i couldn't-" alexia started but with a firm look from you she fell silent as you nodded satisfied.

"does your boss like when you give things away for free?" alexia teased, shifting her bag on her shoulder to be able to pick up the plant. "mm she doesn't mind." you smiled knowingly and alexia paused for a moment.

"did you need something else?" you asked with slight concern as the captain caught herself and cleared her throat, thanking you again and hurrying out of the store.

you watched her go with a slight smile of amusement, carefully watching out the window until she was out of sight before you grabbed your keys out, locking the front door and flipping the sign to closed.

"clean up time mis bebés." you called out with a clap, speaking to the flowers and the plants of course as you grabbed out your phone and played some music, starting to tidy up your store which you were supposed to have done a half hour ago.

~

now home and having eaten dinner alexia sat at the kitchen counter, empty bowl in front of her as she stared down the plant sitting in front of her.

"you better not die." alexia warned the little plant sternly as she stood, and having not listened to a word you said moved it to a little often sun bathed spot by her balcony doors.

having already showered and changed alexia washed up her dishes from dinner, putting the leftovers in a tupperware and sliding it into the fridge before sinking into her sofa.

flicking on the television and a random soap opera alexia's mind drifted anywhere but the characters on the screen, wandering back to her interactions with you this afternoon.

her eyebrows furrowed as she wracked her brain trying to remember the name of the store, but unable to and with it just on the tip of her tongue she grabbed out her phone. knowing it was within walking distance it didn't take her long to find it on maps.

opening instagram instead now she typed it in and sucked her bottom lip into her teeth, perking up as indeed the store did have an account which she clicked into and followed right away.

a small smile graced her face as she scrolled through the feed which was gorgeously draped with all every dizzying colour of the rainbow, alexia shaking her head in sheer wonder of the perfectly curated bouquets on display.

she recognized it was you holding up each one of course, though your face was always hidden by the floral arrangements adding in a thrilling sense of mystery to the page.

her chest filled with a slight sense of pride and maybe a little sprinkling of victory that she knew who was behind each one, able to map out your face in her mind, your dazzling smile haunting her as did the melodic sound of your laughter.

it was then that alexia promised herself she would see you again, and this time under slightly less ragged conditions.

~

and see you again she did.

you looked up from where you'd been trimming some marigolds ready for an order for tomorrow when the bell had chimed signalling you had a customer, likely one of your last ones for the day given you closed in a few minutes.

with over seven orders to get done tonight you had a long few hours ahead and so you'd be lying if you said you weren't relieved that you recognized the customer in question.

"you again." you smiled fondly at the footballer as she made her way to the counter, alexia now no stranger since your initial run in you now both felt quite comfortable around one another.

though alexia was always hesitant if your friendly demeanor was simply an impulse, or if your soft spoken tone was only thanks to your people skills and customer service background.

but today the air felt just a little different, and your smile didn't quite meet your eyes, not dissimilar to alexia's the day she'd sought solace in the shop she now knew to be yours.

the day you'd finally put her out of her misery after giving her yet another little free gift in a small bundle of poppies and wild vine was one which had her blushing in embarrassment as again she'd questioned if you would be in trouble for not charging her.

"i know the boss quite well, she won't mind." you echoed as you often did with a wink, alexia rolling her eyes and insisting she pay.

"alexia. this is my store, i can give away my flowers and my plants to whoever i like, please take them." your hand had settled on top of hers as her fingers drummed against the counter pushing for you to let her pay.

"oh." was all she managed out, and your features softened at the clear embarrassment present in hers, quickly changing subject and moving forward without another word much to the taller girls relief.

"hola chica." alexia smiled and your cheeks warmed as she gently pressed her lips against them in greeting, the two of you quite familiar now as it had been nearly two weeks since your initial encounter.

"so who are we buying for today then capi?" you raised an eyebrow in amusement as alexia pushed herself off the counter and began to wander around, eyes roaming what was left for the day with a shrug.

"because on monday it was your mami, wednesday for your hermana, friday it was another plant, saturday for your amiga's birthday, tuesday for your mami again and now..." you recounted all of the various times alexia had popped in.

"eh..." alexia struggled to think of a reason bar the actual one which was just to see you. "for yourself maybe? the right flowers bring very good energy into a home." you suggested as alexia nodded, head turning away from you to hide the flush warming her neck.

"what do you suggest then cari?" alexia asked, projecting a confidence she did not currently feel as still she wandered the store and did not meet your eye which followed her steps.

"when is your birthday?" you asked, resuming your trimming of the marigolds on the counter making sure to still keep her in your sight. "february fourth. why?" alexia glanced at you curiously over your shoulder as you smiled.

"mmm aquarias, of course." you hummed with a nod, carefully wrapping up the marigolds and setting them aside. "and what does that mean?" alexia huffed, turning to look at you properly with a slight frown as you rounded the counter.

"nothing. but your birth flower is..." you held up a finger, slipping past her and hoping you still had some out the back. alexia waited patiently as you disappeared, a few minutes passing as she contemplated checking on you.

glancing at the time on her watch guilt flooded her seeing technically you were supposed to be closed right now, and with a few steps she found herself at the front door and flipped the open sign to show so, not wanting you caught off guard by any new customers.

also knowing it was unlikely you would make her pay for whatever you were constructing out the back she took a twenty dollar note from her pocket and slid it under your bell on the counter with a small smile.

her head turned as footsteps sounded and you returned. "iris and violet, also primrose! but unfortunately i need those for an order tomorrow." you smiled apologetically, a bundle of bright purple flowers clenched in your hand wrapped in some brown paper with a lavender colored ribbon.

"they are beautiful, gracias." she accepted them as you held them out to her with a satisfied smile at her obvious delight, of course as alexia expected dismissing her attempts to pay for them.

"you look busy, i will leave you be cari. thank you again for these, they are perfect." alexia thanked you, again the taller girl kissing your cheek and with a small smile she was headed for the door as you hesitated.

"alexia." you spoke, her hand on the door she turned with a raised eyebrow.

"i might be misreading this, and if i am i apologise. but if you would like to see me you don't have to keep coming in for flowers you do not need, you can just...ask me out." you played with the sleeves of your cardigan, trying to disguise the fear of rejection as her eyes widened.

"oh." was again all she managed out seeing a flash of worry cross your face. "i have misread. i am so sorry!" you apologized, humiliation filling your chest as you darted behind the counter and ducked down as if needing to find something, hoping she would just leave.

you heard the door and deflated a little, pushing yourself up and jumping in surprise at the hazel eyes which met yours, alexia giving you a slightly awkward smile.

"would you like to go out on a date with me? please." "sí ale, i really would."

~

hearing your alarm go off you awoke on instinct, hand darting out to tap it off as you rubbed your eyes and sighed, taking a few moments to allow your body to wake up a little, the time only three in the morning.

you attempted to get out of bed but an arm caught your midsection, pulling you back under the covers with a grunt. you smiled with a shake of your head, rolling onto your side and propping yourself up on one arm.

"ale. mi amor i have to go!" you whispered softly, pushing her hair out of her face as one eye cracked open and glared up at you. "take a day off." the footballer mumbled, grip on you only tightening making you laugh.

"you take a day off." you teased, poking at her nose as her lips pushed into a slight pout and both her eyes now slowly opened. "can i come with you?" the next words out of her mouth surprised you, eyebrows raised as your finger traced across the soft and tanned skin of her face.

"querida its too early, you only went to bed a few hours ago and you have training at nine." you warned with an apologetic smile, pressing a tender kiss to the crown of her head and squirming as her nose tucked into your neck and she exhaled tiredly.

"i can sleep after training princesa, i want to come. please?" she asked hopefully as your thumb gently wiped some of the sleep from the corner of her eye. "ale i don't know, i don't want you exhausted for training." you sighed with a slight frown.

"we have been up late doing things before and i would still get up at five to go for a run and i am fine." alexia smiled suggestively, hand dragging across your stomach causing goosebumps to prickle your skin. "things hm?" you grinned, her free hand clasping the back of your neck and pulling you down into a proper kiss.

"did that convince you to let me come?" alexia smiled cheekily as she let you up, your head spinning a little as you sighed, smile ghosting your lips.

"sí, you can come."

~

"i told you it was too early precioso." you laughed, squishing the catalans cheeks in your hand as her chin rested on your shoulder and her body latched tightly onto yours from behind.

"m'fine, go get your flowers bebita." alexia mumbled, softly kissing your neck and nodding for you to step forward into the warehouse. the time was now just past four, the perfect time as hardly anyone had arrived to the wholesalers markets yet and you would have first pick of everything.

alexia letting go of you she settled for holding your hand instead, following after you as you went from seller to seller, making your orders and signing for them with a smile, alexia watching fondly as you conversed with the friendly faces you saw each morning.

she'd only come with you once before, blown away by the stunning flowers on offer and just how many lay ready to be bought in the large warehouse. as time passed it began to fill up with more people, alexia letting go of your hand and allowing you to be a little faster as she kept a close eye on you, sipping at her coffee.

"okay amor. done! daniel will drive the truck back with everything in it once its all loaded." you returned to your girlfriends side, waving at the man across the room who wiggled his fingers and returned to flirting with one of the sellers making you chuckled.

her arm stretched over your shoulders the two of you made your way out of the now very busy market, heading for where alexia had parked still insisting on driving despite the fact she was half asleep.

reaching the car you waited patiently by your door, knowing if you tried to open it for yourself the blonde would only tug you back and kick it closed before opening it for you.

"hola." alexia smiled as her body pressed into yours, interlocking fingers as you were pushed gently into the side of her car. you were caught off guard as her head dipped and her mouth met yours, nipping at your bottom lip and with a squeeze of your hips and a little gasp her tongue slipped in.

though just as quickly as it had started she was pulling away, hovering over you with a soft smile which was mirrored on your own features, eyebrow quirked curiously.

"and what was that for?" you asked as her hip bumped you out of the way and she opened your door for you.

"just for you." alexia grinned, stealing another quick kiss as you slid into the car and she closed the door before rounding to her own side. "oh gracias!" she laughed playfully as you leaned over and pushed her door open for her.

your head falling to the headrest you watched as she slipped her key into the ignition, lovesick smile on your face and adoration in your eyes at the woman sat across from you.

meeting your gaze alexias own face softened and she leaned across to press her lips to yours once more, mumbling a few words against them.

"mi preciosa niña de las flores."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: double chapter friday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You put on the outfit Sy picked out. The lilac skirt and the matching razor back tank top are a bit mismatched in style but the colour is almost exact. You add a silver necklace to add a bit more to the top and even out top and bottom. 

You take out a pair of white keds and slip them on. As you do, Sy stand on the door mat with Aika prancing excitedly around him. He deepens his voice and tells her to sit. She obeys, still trembling with elation as he hooks her leash into place. 

As you stand, you find his attention on you. His eyes scale up and down your body as you brush your hand up and down one arm. He tilts his head and his cheek dimples as he exhales through his nose.  

“Well, let’s go,” he commands and Aika jumps to her feet as you nearly leap in place. 

He opens the door, your keys already in his pocket, and he waits for you to go ahead of him. He turns to face the door as he shuts it. He has the leash around two fingers as he slides the keys in the lock and turns. 

As he turns towards the hall, he stops and looks at you. You waver, uncertainly, cautious of a single misstep. He offers the leash. 

“Why don’t you take her, sweetie?” He says, “two of you needa get used to each other.” 

You take the leash as Aika waits patiently. At least she’s trained well. You only ever had cats so you’re not entirely sure about dogs. They’re cute, sure, but a lot stronger. 

You continue down the hall and to the stairs. Sy walks calmly beside you. You’re happy at least that the rage no longer roils off of him, though a tension remains. You sense it in the subtle twiddle of his thick fingers and the way he keeps popping and cracking his joints. 

Outside, the sun glints blindingly above, casting a shine much too bright for your mood. Aika stops and the leash tugs in your hand. You turn back as she pees in the grass and step closer to slacken the leash. Oops. You make a face. 

“It’s okay, sweetie, you’re doing good,” Sy encourages, “she can be a bit wild when she wants to. Probably more like you than you think.” 

His suggestion makes you want to frown but you won’t let him see your discomfort. You continue down the sidewalk, keeping pace with the sniffing dog as Sy lazily swaggers behind you. She stops again then crosses to the other patch of grass. You follow her. 

If it wasn’t for your company, you might enjoy the day. There’s bumblebee’s digging into stores of pollen, buzzing around vibrant petals, and birds cheeping from the interior of bushes, and wispy clouds across the sky. You might have taken a picture or two, even though your phone lens rarely catches the true beauty of the world. 

You continue around the corner and suddenly Aika darts forward. She pulls you nearly off your feet and you stomp clumsily after her, trying not to topple. You see what she sees only as she gets within snapping distance of the fluffy cat. The feline hisses before dashing away and you pull back the barking dog. 

“Aika,” Sy says firmly and quiets the canine, “good girl.” 

The silt in his voice makes even you freeze. You peek back at him and hold out the loop of the leash. You recoil as you notice the phone in his hand. Your phone. The little pearly wrist band hangs from the corner of the blush pink case. He has the lens aimed right at you. 

“Say hi,” he waves from his side of the phone, “got my girls out for a nice walk in the sun.” 

“What are you--” you quiet, realising what must be going on. 

“Your fans want to see you, sweetie,” he chimes. “Isn’t she cute? My lady. Waited for me so long.” 

He turns the camera around, holding it at arm’s length as he comes to stand beside you and faces the sunlight. You gulp as his hand goes to your hip and he pulls you close, leaning in to press his jaw to your head, angling the phone up to capture both of you. You try to smile. 

“Finally going public,” he sounds almost giddy, “military sh—stuff. Couldn't disclose it til I got home but here we are.” 

He turns his head and presses a kiss to your temple. He purrs and slowly releases you. He stands straight and backs up, once more aiming the camera at you. You feel like you might shatter into pieces. 

“We’re gonna grab some coffee. There’s a cafe around here. You’ll remember it. She did a live back in March. Got the vanilla chai, didn’t you, sweetie? I been waiting this long to get back and try it with her,” he commentates, oblivious to the people who glance in his direction. He keeps his arm extended. “Go on, Aika’s getting antsy.” 

You look down at the dog and she looks up at you. You spin and continue down the pavement. You should scream and shout and tell the world that this man is crazy. Yet it doesn’t matter. There’s probably a single viewer, if any. You realise now, he was probably your only fan. The others you’ll chalk up to bots or other weirdos. 

A trickle of ice flows through your chest. He knows where the cafe is. How long has he been here? How long has he been watching, not just on the phone? You don’t know why you keep asking. It doesn’t change a thing. 

You approach the short iron fence that marks off the patio of the cafe. You slow and Sy stands at your side, showing the tables and patrons to the camera. He rubs between your shoulder blades. 

“So how ya wanna do it? You wanna wait with Aika or you wanna run in?” He asks. 

You gulp. There is not better option. It’s all just the same. 

“I’ll get the coffee,” you offer and untangle the leash from around your wrist. “What do you want?” 

“Hm, good question,” he says, “why don’t ya surprise me. You know I got a sweet tooth.” 

“Right.” 

He takes the leash and you turn, stiffly marching through the gate and up to the door. You enter and as you’re shut in, you clutch the sides of your neck and blow out through your lips. No, you don’t know he has a sweet tooth. You don’t know him. As much as he scares you to death, he’s starting to make you really angry. It’s just how he talks as if you actually know who he is! He’s a stranger. A creep! 

You stand in line and only remember to step up for your turn as someone taps your shoulder. You mumble an apology and step up. You hadn’t even checked the menu. You look at the specials board and try to wet your dry tongue. 

“Um, white mocha,” you order in a croak, “and a uh, a lavender latte. Thanks.” 

The barista offers to add on items from the bakery. You decline and pay, already spending enough on the overpriced coffee. You shuffle along to await your order and mull your options. None. You have none. 

When your number is called, you grab your drinks and quickly spin around. You follow another customer to the door and he holds it open for you. He smiles as you step through and you thank him. 

“Not at all,” he steps out after you. “You got your hands full.” 

“It’s really nice of you,” you say as you walk just ahead of him, turning your head to glance over your shoulder. 

“Pretty girl like you. How could I not,” he says as you reach the gate, “have a good day, miss.” 

“Uh,” you’re surprised by the compliment, “you too, sir.” 

You give an awkward purse of your lips as you stand in the open gate. You look around and find Sy watching you. You go to him and hold up the drinks. 

“Um, I got the white mocha... not sure if you like that.” 

“Ooh, white mocha, sounds delicious, just like you,” he purrs, “and what did you get?” 

He takes the cup, Aika’s leash around two thick fingers. You stand dumbly, staring at the phone he keeps pointed in your face. 

“The lavender latte,” you answer flatly. 

“Well, the lady and I are gonna have our coffee date,” he says to the camera as he flips it around, “walk the pup and all that. Hope you all have a good day. Right, sweetie?” 

He once more puts you on the stream. Your lip trembles, “sure, yeah. Have a good day everyone.” 

You hold a shaky smile and he taps the screen several times with his thumb. He slides the phone into his short’s pocket and tastes his mocha. He waves you down the sidewalk and Aika takes the lead. He’s quiet as he slurps from the plastic lid. 

“That boy,” he speaks at last, “said you were pretty.” 

You blanch and turn the cup in your hand. The heat seeps through the sleeve and adds to the sheen across your skin, “er, I guess. I don’t know.” 

“Who was he?” Sy asks harshly. 

You flinch and peek up at him. He’s not happy. His entire demeanour has shifted. 

“I don’t know. A stranger. He just held the door,” you shrug, “guess he was being nice.” 

“Being nice? Shouldn’t be talking to strangers,” he reproaches. 

You nearly choke. Yeah, you shouldn’t. He taught you that well. 

“You are a pretty girl,” he says, “so I’m just lookin’ out for you. Some men...” 

You keep your eyes ahead as you fight to hold your composure. You drink from the cup, tasting the floral foam, and swallow. You force the breath from your chest and steady your nerves. 

“Sorry, I... won’t do it again.” 

He hums and reaches to grab your hand. His large one swallows yours. You don’t pull away, even as you desperately want to . He walks along with you, swing his arm slightly. 

“Isn’t this nice, sweetie?” He purrs, “you and me and Aika. Like a little family.” 

You grit your teeth and your aching cheeks fall. You can’t smile any long. You try to hide your face as you hover your mouth over the cup, “yeah,” you wisp out, “it’s nice.” 

💜

When you get back to the apartment, you’re exhausted yet adrenaline has you wide awake. Sy lets Aika off her leash and feeds her as you toss your empty coffee cup. You linger around the bin nervously, uncertain what to do next. You’re trapped again within these walls that once spoke of your freedom. 

Sy groans and stretches his neck. He runs his hands over his shaved head and combs his fingers through his thick beard. You step away from garbage before he notices you hiding. 

“Hot out, I’m beat,” he yawns, “what about you, sweetie?” 

“Yeah, uh, kinda,” you hug yourself and sway, “but um, not too bad.” 

“Ugh, one thing I was happy about was gettin’ outta the heat,” he pulls on his shirt and lifts it over his head. The fabric is darkened around the chest and arms with his sweat. More of it glistens in his body hair as he strips away the tee.  

You chew your lip and go to turn the fan on, turning it to oscillate. You sense him in the edge of your vision. He hangs the shirt across the back of a dining room chair then comes back to the living room. You stay close to the wall. 

“Er, Sy,” your heart jumps as your doubt clogs your throat. 

“Mhmm,” he flops onto the couch and leans back. He’s shameless and shirtless. His muscles flex along his arms and chest. He’s huge.  

“Do you think I can have my phone? I wanted to check my messages,” you push your palms together and twist your hands. 

“Don’t got none,” he says, “forget about that. Let’s disconnect. You and me, sweetie, let’s enjoy a quiet night in.” 

You want your phone but you know better than to push him. You’ve seen what happens when you do. You peer over at the dent in the wall. 

“Sure,” you go to him and sit on the couch, keeping a foot between you. “Do you wanna watch something?” 

You reach for the remote and he stops you. He snatches your hand back and wraps his arm around you, pulling you to lean into the couch with him. He crowds you as his scent suffocates you. It smells like sweat and generic deodorant. 

“We don’t need TV, sweetie, let’s just enjoy each other,” he reaches across you and rubs your upper arm. 

“Um,” you nearly choke, “it’s almost dinner time--” 

“It’s early,” his voice is rocky, “sweetie, it’s alright. Just relax. It’s finally just us.” 

“Sy, I... I should get some work done,” you sniff. 

“You should take it easy. You work too hard,” his hand brushes along your shoulder and to your neck. He drags his knuckles up your throat, “you’re gorgeous, you know that? This colour,” he slips his hand back down and touches the top of the tank, “looks so good on you.” 

“Thanks, I, er,” you squeeze your thigh and gulp. You can’t help the tremor that rolls through you, “Sy, please,” you reach up and grab his hand, “I should--” 

“It’s okay to be nervous. I am too, sweetie,” he rasps as he leans in, “but I can’t wait any longer.” 

He frees his hand from yours and cradles your face. He dips his head and you press your hand to his chest, helpless to stop him as he smothers your mouth with his. You let out a muffled gasp as he crushes his lips to yours, his tongue poking around eagerly. His hand crawls around the back of your head as he traps you against the couch. 

Your fingers curl against the muscle of his chest and he groans. He pulls you against him, falling back with you until he’s flat on the cushions. He brings you over him, and arm hooked around you as his other hand stays on your head. His tongue invades your mouth as you struggle to breathe past his hunger. Your brain screams at you to bite him, to smack, to do anything, but you’re paralysed with futility. 

[crazy4garff-127]

MY HTTYD COLLECTION IS.......COMPLETE The Fury fam is Reunited!

Dart, Pouncer and Ruffrunner came today! SO STOAKED to recieve them as a fan for like 10-11 years it made my day and a highlight of my year so far!

You can buy these anywhwere guys! Sideshow, Ebay Online store websites!

@httydtroublemaker @httydfanatic @nightfurylover31 @toothless-nightfury @toothlessismyspiritanimal

[ofdreamsnwishes]

Chronically online, that was a way that your boyfriend used to describe you. And he was correct, somewhat, since you’d never admit it.

Spending time on tiktok was one of your favorite ways to pass time; watching weird dance videos, beautiful arts, different makeup styles, those reddit videos (your favorite; being nosy about others life) and of course the couples trends.

Oh the couples trends.

You tried almost all of them with Mark, finding joy in his reactions; kissing him all over with a red lipstick, the “you better lock your phone” trend, hands heart trend, you name it. And now, you found a new one.

Mark had invited you to a casual hangout, drive around the city, go shopping, anything really, as long as you two were together. You took this opportunity to try your latest scheme.

Once you got in the car, he leaned over the central console, giving you a quick kiss on the lips. Exchanging greetings, he smiled at you and reached over to rest his hand on your thing, squeezing it gently as he started to drive.

Step 1 of your scheme: ask to get some food.

It was easy, considering it was almost lunch time and you were sure he hadn’t eaten yet, waiting to pick you up so the both of you could eat together. So, he relented easily, unsuspecting, as he changed the route to the nearest fast food chain for a quick bite. Once there, you insisted on eating in the car, saying how it was cooler inside because of the AC, as if the store didn’t have any AC, and how it’d be much easier to just eat inside the car, not even having to get up.

As always, he relented. Mark always did when it came to you.

Step 2 of your scheme: set the camera up without him suspecting anything.

It was somewhat easy too, as Mark didn’t really question what you were doing, specially after you said you wanted to film your reaction to the limited time food you ordered, with the intention of sending to a friend. Maybe he was just used to your antics at this point, but still, you considered it a win.

Step 3? Lights, camera, action!

“This looks so good!” You exclaimed, picking a piece of the extra cheesy fries, mouth salivating at the sight.

“Careful, it’s hot.” Mark warned you, sliding a napkin over your lap, just in case you dropped anything. This man… Always so thoughtful.

You shoot him a smile, before approaching the camera with the fries in hand, showing it off.

“Look! Mark got me these! He’s the best husband in the world, for real-”

You heard him choke on his drink, head snapping to the side, looking at you with wide eyes. He had a surprised look on his face, but you could also see the smile that was threatening to show on his lips, the tip of his ears already flushing red.

“What?’ He asked, voice soft as if in disbelief. ‘Husband…?”

You just smiled back, a giggle escaping your lips. “Yeah… Why? Does it bother you?”

“Well- That’s not- It’s- I’m happy, actually-’ He fumbles with his words, eyes darting all over the place. Then he looks back at you, a shy smile on his face, voice so incredibly soft you could basically melt in it. ‘I’m honored you’d call me your husband… I guess my heart just skipped a beat, not gonna lie…”

God, you loved him. You heart was doing somersaults, how could he look just so adorable?

Leaning over you kissed him once again and Mark eagerly reciprocated it, hand tangling up the hair at the back of your hand as he pulled you towards him.

Another trend done successfully.

[obsolescent]

Coloring Inside the Lines

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader

Requested: "This but she colors in his tattoo with what she wants to buy to see if it’s the right shade or what she wants."

Author's Note: Ask at the end! Very firm believer of Simon following you around like a puppy, or more like a guard dog lol.

The bustling activity of the store makes the aisles a bit cramped, you and Simon snaking through other customers browsing. You’re doing your own shopping while he tags along, just happy to be in your presence. 

Pausing in front of an eyeshadow palette that had caught your eye online, you begin to test some of the shades on your skin. Swatching a couple shades, you turn your arm side to side to see the effects they have against the lighting in the store. 

Pursing your lips, you notice your skin has leftover residue from the other products you had tried. Trying your best to wipe the majority of it off, but some pesky undertones of certain colors remained. Needing a clean slate, you contemplate on where to test the shadows.

“Somethin’ the matter, love?” Simon leans over you, peering over your shoulder. You perk up at his question, gears turning. “Could I ask you for something?” You inquire, looking up at him, batting your lashes for good measure. 

Simon nods, smiling at you. “Of course, love, what is it?” You hold out the tester eyeshadow brush that has one of the colors swatched already. “Could I use your arm? To test out some of these, please?” You beg, doe eyed. 

He crosses his arms, tight black shirt straining against his muscles. Your eyes dart down to the display, unable to resist before snapping back up to his face, trying not to lose focus. He smirks, he knows what he’s doing, the damn looker.

He rolls his eyes, before holding one of his tattooed arms out for you. You squeal, saying, “Thank you, baby!” as you swipe the color over the top of his hand. The shimmering shade against his pale skin pops, looking much better without the remnants of other colors below it.

You begin to swatch the others, working down the palette, top of his quickly being filled by the hues. Your eyes drag up the expanse of his arm, another idea forming. Simon, currently distracted by his phone, doesn’t notice when you take the current color on the brush and begin to fill in an empty space in between the ink on his forearm.

Giggling to yourself, you continue until you’re done with the shades, all the different colors filling in the lower portions of his tattoos. It honestly doesn’t look bad, the colors complementing each other nicely. Simon takes this moment to glance at you, then to his arm. Chuckling, he says, “Nice job at fillin’ in,” He remarks, tilting his arm to look at your handiwork.

You smile at him, before walking over and grabbing a spray bottle with rubbing alcohol inside, along with some tissues. Wiping the makeup away from his arm and tattoos, he watches you with adoration. “Thanks for being my tester, darlin’,” You say, reaching up and kissing his cheek. “Of course, love. Any time.”

Ask:

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[icallhimjoey]

More!!! More!!!! More bookstore!joe! MORE!!!!!!!!!! we've seen his erratic behaviour when he visits the store after not having been able to come in for a while, but what about the visit before he knows he's not going to be able to come in for a while?

omg im so here for the bookstore!joe requests, but the "i already miss you even though youre still here" somehow turned into whatever this is... idk why i went where i went, my apologies, and tw for vomit Wordcount: 3K

---

Lost Moments To Keep

You hadn't stopped staring at Joe with the biggest eyes. You seemed confused and weirdly mesmerised. Your eyes tunneled a little, vision darker around the edges.

"That's Joe." Anne just said, and then your eyes moved to give her the same wild look.

"And I'm Anne. We like me, a lot. We don't like Joe. You've got temporary loss of normal brain function, look, Google says." Anne held her phone to your face, too close for anything to register.

"You're not helping, Anne." Joe scolded through clenched teeth.

"Wha–"

Joe was on the phone to someone, and... you knew who that was. You knew who that was. What the fuck. What was Joe Quinn doing in your bookstore?

And why were you on the floor, exactly? Your left elbow hurt, but the back of your head much worse.

"Yea, she's awake. She hasn't lost consciousness at all." Joe said to whoever was on the other side of the line. "Confused, though. Brain's all scrambled."

"Do you feel dizzy? Google says you might feel dizzy."

"I... what day is it?"

"Oh my God, she's asking what day it is." Anne said, turning to Joe like she was blaming him for what you'd asked. In Anne's terms, she was panicking. Anyone who didn't know her, though, would think she was being exceptionally calm given she'd just witnessed her boss lift a box of books that tipped her over backwards.

Your head hurt.

And you did feel dizzy. And nauseous too, a little.

It made sense that you had fallen, but it was strange to not remember and to have two strangers fret over you in your own business.

Your eyes darted from the worried face of famous actor Joe Quinn who was stood by your feet, to the wildly uninterested face of a younger girl who sat next to you with her legs crossed as she scrolled on her phone.

"Any vision disturbance? Are you more sensitive to light than you'd usually be, do you think?" Anne asked, seemingly going down a list she'd found online.

"Okay, thanks. We'll make sure she doesn't move until you get here." Joe looked at you as he said goodbye and hung up. That looked like your phone.

"Her mum's on her way."

Why was he using your phone?

"Any mental fogginess?" Anne continued, ignoring Joe and additionally ignoring you, entirely unfussed that you weren't answering any of her questions.

"Hey," Joe softly said, catching your attention as he stepped closer and leant an elbow on the counter as he bent down a little. He smiled warmly at you when he asked, "How are you feeling?"

Joe Quinn.

Joseph Quinn.

What was he doing in your bookstore?

And who the fuck was Anne?

Your eyes moved from one to the other until you saw black spots and the pain behind your eyes grew. Your ears were ringing when you softly said, "I'm... I'm gonna throw up."

Joe almost hadn't gone in today. He almost hadn't, because he didn't really have any time to waste. But, Jesus, he was glad he was there.

God, imagine if he hadn't been.

When Joe had woken up that morning, he thought he was likely going actually insane. He was flying out for work the next day, and instead of preparing, of packing, of seeing family and friends before he'd be off for a while - instead of all that, he showed up on the bookstore's doorstep at 10 am sharp. Right when Anne unlocked and opened the door. Just because that was where he wanted to be. He kind of already missed the store, even though he was right there.

Anticipatory nostalgia; Joe could feel it in his bones.

Instead of stepping aside and letting him in, she gave him a deadpan tired stare and waited for him to take the A-frame from her hands to put outside on the pavement.

Joe happily helped out. Said, "Good morning, sunshine!" all chipper and laughed when Anne looked like she had to try really hard not to vomit.

He'd called a good morning into the store, got a faint "Morning!" in reply from the backroom where you were making yourself a coffee, and found his ledge... empty.

Anne saw him look at the spot where he usually left the books that he was reading. You'd granted him that small little surface area of the store so you wouldn't have to keep putting his books back on the shelves, and so Joe wouldn't have to go looking for those same books again the next time he'd come in. A win win little ledge of excuses for Joe to return to your store. A real privilege, Joe thought.

Except he'd left books there.

He knew he did.

Where had they gone?

"I tidied." Anne said unsentimentally and challengingly looked at Joe over her mug as she took a sip of hot coffee.

She loved being a little shit and inconveniencing Joe wherever and whenever she could. Tidying the store was part of her job, and Joe knew if he was to complain, she'd have the upper hand, because what was he even really doing? The store wasn't a library, no matter how much he had starting treating it like one.

So instead, Joe used her inconvenient power move as an excuse to take his time to browse the whole store and took care to be in the exact wrong spot at the exact wrong time.

You secretly smiled every time you heard Anne sigh with frustration and heard her mutter, "Move!" under her breath before using a shoulder to push him aside. Every single time, Joe pretended he was totally oblivious. Would go, "Oh! Sorry! Was I in the way?" all innocently, but you could see how his mouth was fighting to keep his own smile hidden.

It took maybe forty minutes for Joe to have built up a little stack of books on the small sidetable next to your granddad's armchair in the window, and then Joe sat and read undisturbed for an hour and a half.

You loved it when Joe was in.

Just sat there.

Reading.

Absolutely engrossed in his own little world.

The faint feeling of envy was always overshadowed by the joy of being allowed to unashamedly stare at him from the counter, leant on both elbows.

You'd brought him a coffee after those 90 minutes of silent reading, and he'd given you a quick wink and a smile as a thank you.

Customers filtered in and out, and you went from moments of it just being Joe in the store to having eight people needing your attention simultaneously. It was both busy and not, and the switches in energy had left you in a weird spot mentally.

You hadn't realised you'd fully skipped lunch.

You'd seen Joe dart out for some pastries, and you'd ordered Anne to get her ass into the back to go and eat something, but you never followed up on your "I'll take my lunch after."

It was why, in a moment of quiet, you'd picked up a box of books from behind the counter that had sort of been in the way the whole morning, you been unsuccessfull.

Maybe you'd gotten up too fast.

Or maybe the box was just too heavy.

The entire thing had taken you down quicker than you'd been able to get it off the floor. It didn't help that the box was open. The reflex of your body became about making sure none of the books would tip out and hit you in the face, when the reflex should've been about cushioning your fall.

You shot no arms out.

You didn't drop the box.

You just... fell.

The weight of the box pushed the air straight from your lungs and left you gasping.

The back of your head had hit the wooden floorboards so hard, you immediately saw stars.

After impact, for a short moment, it was pin-drop silent. Anne froze, pausing for a moment, listening. She was waiting for you to go "I'm all right!", but that never came.

Joe was ripped from his book at the sound of the fall, but was confused. One moment you'd been there, and then now, you were gone.

When a soft wincing gasp was heard from where you were hidden form his view, he was on his feet in an instant, rounding the counter and finding you there on the floor, box of books heavy on your stomach, eyes completely glazed over as you rapidly blinked up at the ceiling in an attempt to erase the fuzzy bits in your vision.

"Oh my G– Anne!" Joe was quick to remove the box and the books that were tumbling out. "Breathe. Careful, don't move, just focus on breathing." Joe advised as he watched you struggle.

"What dropped?" Anne asked, getting closer now and trying to find the source of the whack.

"She did."

"I know she did, but what was that–"

"That was her." Joe tried to make eye-contact. "Hey, just breathe, all right? Are you hurt?"

The eye-contact failed, as did answering Joe's question.

You hadn't even properly heard him it felt like.

Anne and Joe shared a look, for a moment both unsure of what to do. Who was going to take the lead on this? Joe didn't work there, but Anne was a literal teenager.

Before they could even think of discussing a game plan, you incoherently asked through a constricted panicked voice if anyone had thought of the fire escape. They both turned to look at you, both faces frowning in confusion.

"Huh?"

"What was that?"

Joe and Anne spoke at the same time.

"I think I forgot. Are the bugs gone?" you winced as you moved a hand to where your head hurt, and Joe was quick in deciding he was going to have to be the one to call the shots on this. He'd clearly chosen to spend all day at the bookstore for a reason, so it seemed.

It took a little while for you to return to normal.

You babbled through some more disjointed chat whilst Joe carefully checked with his fingers if your head was bleeding. It wasn't, which was good. But you did wince in pain as he slowly felt around in your hair before you tried to sit up and take your shoes off.

Anne had to fight you back down onto the floor and sternly told you to relax whilst Joe slid his folded jacket underneath your head.

When your consciousness returned into the room, you were met by a girl sat by your side who was scrolling through concussion symptoms, and a guy stood up by your feet, talking to someone on the phone.

"What's going on?" You'd asked, and Anne had just casually said, "You fell."

Joe'd called your mum on your phone. Anne knew the code. Joe told himself he'd give her a stern talk about normal-people things like privacy later. Priorities lied elsewhere right now.

And then you'd thrown up into the box of books that had taken you down earlier.

Served it right, Joe thought.

Joe'd held your hair through it, and kept brushing back little pieces that kept falling into your face. His touches were so tender and gentle but they still hurt, and you were absolutely mortified. So fucking embarrassed. There was a fucking celebrity in the store and you were vomming into a box of books that, halfway through, got swapped for an empty bucket.

It smelled awful, and it probably was the most unattractive thing in the world.

You felt like the most unattractive thing in the world.

"Sorry you had to see that." you croaked when Anne handed you a glass of water to rinse your mouth.

"We think you're concussed."

Somehow, that made perfect sense.

"You took quite the tumble. The back of your head must be hurting."

You moved to sit with your back against a cupboard door, careful to not lean your head back too far, and Joe decided to stay put next to you. Keep an eye on you. Hold your hair back in case you weren't quite done throwing up yet.

Meanwhile, Anne had moved into the backroom and did her best in trying to save whatever books she could from where you'd thrown up over them.

"Do you have any pain anywhere else?"

You paused a second to focus on the feelings inside of your body, and then moved an arm to touch the opposite elbow.

"Your elbow? Are you bleeding?" Joe used a soft hand to move your arm so he could have a look. "Does it hurt a lot?" No broken skin. Joe hoped that maybe the blow he'd heard had been your elbow, and not your actual skull.

"Stop asking her a million questions!" Anne shouted from the back, like she hadn't been doing the exact same thing before.

"You'd tell me if you weren't okay, wouldn't you?" Joe's voice remained soft and warm for you. All kind and gentle.

For a moment, you just looked at him.

"Hi," he smiled, and he saw how you were trying to puzzle the situation together. "I'm Joe."

"I know who you are."

"Oh, that's great!" Joe exclaimed.

"Were you... did you happen to just be in here to buy books, or..."

Oh.

Not so great.

You knew who he was, but you didn't know who he was.

"Um, no, not really. I actually come in here a lot. I um... you let me hog one of the armchairs where I read books."

"You do?"

"Yea, it's awfully rude of me." Joe smiled. "But I'm lucky. You're very cool about it."

Joe could feel his chest swell at the faintest hint of a smile coming from you.

"He's your boyfriend." Anne bluntly interrupted as she stepped back into the storefront, and before you could even begin to process that wild bit of information, she added, "But not really. The two of you are... you're really weird about it."

It sounded like a weird joke, and you looked between the both of them to figure out what the punchline was, because you didn't get it.

Joe just smiled when you looked at him.

"She hates it."

"I do." Anne confirmed, walking across the store to move the sign on the door to 'closed'. Your mum was going to come by and pick you up to get your head checked and there was no way Anne wasn't going to go with.

Joe craned his head to watch Anne as she went to fetch the A-frame out front and then leant close and whispered, "We kind of like that she hates it."

That made you smile into your lap.

"Have you um..." you started, suddenly frowning. "Do you have a plaster for me?"

Joe's concern immediately grew again. He wasn't quite back where he was twenty minutes ago, when you'd laid right where he was sitting now, unable to catch your breath properly, but his eyes bulged like he was just as worried anyway.

"Why? Are you bleeding? Where?"

"I've not finished my homework."

"You've not..." Joe tried to make sense of something nonsensical before he realised he'd lost you again.

Joe wondered if he could let someone know he wasn't going to be able to leave the city tomorrow. Let alone the fucking country. The prospect of leaving you like this for a few weeks and having to actually do a job seemed impossible.

How was he not going to be thinking about you all the time?

To be fair, his life was already like that, a little.

But especially now; after all this, no one could expect him to not constantly worry if you were all right, could they?

"I don't think I've got any plasters for you, sorry."

"Oh," you seemed disappointed, but only for a second. "You bought Blindness from me."

There you were. Back again. God, he really did already miss you, even though you were right there.

"I did."

"You hadn't... you'd not read it, but you'd seen the film."

"I had."

"I remember."

"Read it in one day."

You'd likely be fine.

People got concussions all the time, didn't they?

"Sorry, I'm all over the place."

"You're not actually," Joe smiled. "You're right here."

Joe was going to leave the country tomorrow, and you'd stay with your mum until you'd be one hundred per cent again. You would keep the store closed, so there was no use in him hanging around anyway. And then, when you'd be all better, he'd pop back in on a random Tuesday morning without any warning, and then he could tell you all about today. You'd likely not remember a thing of it, all of it a lost moment to you, but one that he'd get to keep. Get to cherish. Get to share with you later.

"My head hurts..." you suddenly said like you'd only just realised it.

"Yea, you fell." Joe could go through this loop again, he didn't mind.

"I did?"

"Hmm, we think you're concussed. Your mum is coming to pick you up, have you checked out by a doctor to double check and make sure you're okay."

"We?"

Joe saw how you went to reach for the back of your head again, but before your fingers could disappear into your hair, the bell above the door chimed and Anne said, "No sign of her yet."

"That's Anne." Joe calmly explained, and then reached to grab hold of your hand, protecting you from touching your painful bits again. He'd make sure to hold it until your mum arrived.

Joe saw your eyes grow wide as you recognised him again, and smiled.

"And I'm Joe."

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,

@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,

@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,

@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn0628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[smashing-teacups]

Atonement Chapter 45: The Battles We Choose

A/N: I have no idea why this didn't upload when I added it at 4 PM today, womp womp. But let's try this again, my tumblr folk! One last chapter to hold you over until the rest of the story is complete! 😘

A thousand pounds of horseflesh thundered beneath him, urged to a gallop as the weather began to turn. Eyes darting uneasily to the horizon, Jamie watched the clouds roll in from the west and counted his odds that he could get Donas back to the stable before man and beast alike were soaked through.

He could only thank his lucky stars that Claire wasn’t with them this time.

He’d left her safe and dry back at the mill, contentedly toggling between spreadsheets on her mobile. Her mission for the next hour was to finish compiling a list of essentials they’d need to purchase in a brick-and-mortar store that evening, then shop online for whatever items could wait a few days for delivery. Jamie’s was to return the horse, get the car, check out of their hotel, and bring their suitcases back home. 

A series of tasks that would be significantly less pleasant if he was soaked to the skin and freezing, forbye.

As fate would have it, though — or, rather, an impressively fast horse — he’d just managed to rein Donas to a halt outside the barn door as the first scattered, heavy raindrops began to plop into the dirt. Beaming and breathless, he gave the stallion a sound pat on the neck as he dismounted, murmuring praise in the Gàidhlig.

Several feet behind him, the kitchen door burst open on squeaking hinges. He didn’t need to look to know who had followed him out into the stableyard.

“I’m just returning the horse,” he called gruffly, eyes fixed straight ahead as he led Donas into the barn. “Ye dinna need to make a scene of it.”

“What happened?” his sister demanded, clipped wee footfalls trailing after him as though he hadn’t spoken at all. Like arguin’ wi’ a brick wall, Da used to say. Though I’m no’ sure that’s entirely fair to the wall.

Keep reading...

[crackedpumpkin]

Hi! May I request rottmnt turtles (separately) meeting a reader who has Spiderman abilities and they show up randomly, to give the turtle a gift, then leaves without saying anything?

Hello anon! I hope you enjoy this, I've been struggling to write for Donnie, Raph, and Mikey since I don't know their characters that well yet :") Regardless though, I hope this is alright!

His swords clatter to the ground, looking around in disbelief once he spots the neatly wrapped box on the table beside him.

"Wha- When??"

Leonardo turns in a circle, eyes darting to check every corner of the room he's in. He picks up the box nervously, reading the tag attached to it.

'Saw this and thought you might like it.'

Your familiar handwriting is messily scrawled onto the paper, and he chuckles before holding the box up to his ear, giving it a shake. It rattles, and he hums in curiosity.

When did you even get here? He wonders, untying the ribbon on the box and opening the lid. Once his eyes land on the item inside, he gasps excitedly, almost squealing.

He picks up the comic, almost too afraid to hold it as his fingers brush against the front cover of the first Jupiter Jim comic, still in its original sleeve! Oh, he'd recognize the art anywhere.

It's a national treasure, well, in his opinion, anyway. But how on earth did you even get it?

Maybe you knew the vigilante that helped stop a robbery at the comic book museum in which the comic is stored. If so, he has got to connect with them through you.

"Okay, who took my tools?" Donnie looks around with narrowed eyes, scanning his lab with an annoyed sigh. Did his brothers wander in and decide to distract him once again with their shenanigans?

However, he spots his tools decorating the wall, laid out in some form of abstract art as they stick to some form of spiderweb. He walks over with a skeptical gaze, staring at the box between them.

He taps his chin in thought, deciding whether or not to open the unfamiliar object until he sees a piece of paper with messily written words on his desk. He picks it up, scanning it with raised brows.

'Hey smartass, Happy birthday or whatever, thought you might enjoy it.'

He gasps, looking back at the box that contains his gift. "For me??" He all but squeals, grabbing it and taking off the lid. His eyes widen in disbelief, filling with pure, adulterated joy as he lifts up a warm purple jacket, a broad grin on his lips in place of his usual refined bad-boy demeanour.

"Oh, I love it!!" He gushes, immediately putting it on and feeling the soft fabric settling on his arms as he does a quick spin to admire it. He doesn't even care about how he'll get his tools off the wall, with the web fluid only dissolving in two to three hours.

You eye the turtle sitting on the couch with his comic book, grinning as you secure the teddy bear in your grasp. You had spotted him eyeing it last time you went online shopping, and of course, you had to get it for your friend.

You slowly crawl down the wall, the bare skin of your fingertips practically glueing you to the hard brick. You make your way down to him, tapping his shoulder from behind. He turns in surprise. "Yo, what's up, Y/n?"

You stifle a chuckle before pulling out the teddy bear from where you position it behind your back, and the comic book slides out of his hands as his jaw drops. "Is that-"

You nod, handing it to him.

He gingerly takes it from your grasp, eyes already watering before he hugs it tightly. "Thanks, Y/n! You're the best!"

You give him a silent yet playful salute, crawling back up the wall as he continues to gush over his gift.

"Ouch!" Mikey groans, landing hard on his face as the shattered remains of his skateboard fall to pieces around him. You gasp, hurrying over to where he cradles the broken remains with eyes full of despair.

You rub his back in sympathy before an idea occurs to you. You had bought his present a couple months early, and maybe it was the perfect time to give it to him.

You crane your neck. Where had you put it…? You recall hiding it in a tight spot between a shelf and other stuff in the lair, spotting it peeking out from the wedge. You aim and fire some web fluid at it, and it attaches itself to the gift wrapping before you tug it toward the both of you.

It lands safely in your hands, and you offer it to Mikey, who glances at it curiously. He sniffles, taking it from you and hesitates, only to open it after you nod encouragingly. He inhales sharply, lighting up when he unwraps it to reveal a brand new Skate3000 skateboard, looking at you in glee.

"Is this real?" He smiles cheesily, wrapping you up in an unexpected hug before whooping and scurrying up the ramp's edge to try it out. You watch with a smile but gather your things to leave when you remember you have a class in ten minutes.

"Thanks, Y/n! You're the best!" He shouts from behind you, and you smile and shrug in response, glad he likes your gift.

[ickadori]

++ 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐔

[summary] after trying your best to avoid inui and pretend he never existed, he suddenly shows up in your apartment to work things out.

[cws] yandere -> stalking, delusional behavior, mentions of murder, breaking and entering. allusions to noncon. gn reader.

“You’re crazy.”

“I’m in love with you.”

“You’re crazy.”

Inui laughs, pink lips splitting into a smile that seems far too angelic for the grim atmosphere. “No, I’m not.” He softly says, a deep sigh leaving him right after, shoulders sagging and lids lowering. “Nothing that I’ve done saw far could possibly label me as crazy.”

“You broke into my apartment—”

“—I have a key, that you gave me, mind you.”

“I changed my locks weeks ago, you fucking psychopath!”

You’re talking faster than you normally do, words stumbling over each other and jumbling together, and your heart is pounding, pulse racing, skin sweating profusely despite the AC being on full blast.

You’re scared.

“I want you to leave.”

“I want to work this out.” He completely ignores you, instead opting to settle himself down on the couch, arm stretching along the back of it as he settles his gaze on you. You used to get so giddy whenever he looked at you — Inui was beautiful, otherworldly, completely unreal even when you were laid in bed beside him and marveling at the way his lashes rested against the tops of his cheeks. It felt like some grand thing to have a man like him notice you; a man so out of your league that even your own mother had doubted the relationship in the beginning as being serious.

Now, after you saw inside him, saw past that perfect exterior, got a glimpse of the darkness that lingered just underneath the surface, his gaze only succeeded in terrifying you. It raised the hairs on the back of your neck, sent your heart lurching up into your throat, made your movements rushed and jumpy as your body screamed at you to run, get away.

He invoked a fight or flight response in you, and you had never once chose to fight. You ran every chance you could; changing phone numbers when he kept texting and calling, quitting your job and finding a new, remote one when he showed up after he could no longer reach your phone, shopping at a new grocery store when he took to going to the one you always visited, before finally choosing to make all your purchases online when he seemed to be at every single public place that you visited.

Your body screamed at you to run now, eyes darting to the front door that had been locked and bolted. There was a total of five locks (you could never be too careful, so you were told) and it would take you about 3 seconds to undo each one. 15 seconds. It would take you about 4 to reach the door from where you stood in the entry way to the bedroom. It would take Inui about 2 — he was closer, and his legs were longer. 19 vs 2.

Your heart lurches.

You had a window in your bedroom, 2 seconds to slam the door and turn the lock into place, 4 to get the window open and climb and plummet to your fucking death because this apartment o it had vacancies on the ninth floor when you had so hurriedly changed residences.

So fight then.

The thought makes you violently ill, and you wretch before slapping your hand against your mouth, tears pooling in your eyes that you quickly blink away, the drops sliding down your cheeks as you harshly breathe through your nose.

“Why are you panicking? We’re just talking.” Inui gives you a look of confusion. “Very calmly, too calmly if you ask me, considering that my girlfriend, whom I love very much, has been avoiding me for weeks.” He slowly stands from his seat, lithe fingers moving to straighten out his designer shirt before setting the thin chain around his neck straight. “Come sit do—or actually, we can talk in your room.”

“No!” Your hand leaves your mouth in an instant, and you outstretch your palms towards him, furiously shaking your head as you step forward on shaky legs. “W-We can talk out here.” It seemed like a terrible idea to let him into your bedroom, but the more pessimistic part of your reasoned that if he wanted to violate you in that way, he could do it in many more places than just your bedroom.

“Don’t do that.” He doesn’t stop his stride, loafers that likely cost more than an entire years worth of rent softly clicking against your wooden floors, and you’re frozen in your spot as he comes to a stop in front of you, eyes scanning your face before they finally settle on yours. “Don’t act like you’re scared of me.” He raises a hand and you flinch despite yourself, eyes unnaturally wide as he brushes his knuckles against your cheek.

“I-I…”

“You went snooping where you shouldn’t have and found some things, but that’s fine. I’m not mad. You were just curious.” His other hand comes up to touch the other side of your face, thumbs absentmindedly swiping at the dark circles under your eyes (thanks to him, no less), and your mind goes back to the ‘things’ you had found.

Guns… drugs… money… a fucking severed head that had been stowed away in a black garbage bag.

You feel like throwing up—you would have, had you been able to eat for the last few days, but every time you tried to force something down, that body-less head popped into your mind and stole your appetite.

You hadn’t gone to the police - you were too scared you’d end up in a bag, too - but maybe you should have. Maybe you should have cried to the closest detective and hoped and prayed that they convicted him, locked him away for good so that you never had to see his face again.

“Hey.”

His nose brushes against yours, blonde hair brushing against your cheeks, and you suck in a shuddering breath as your knees knock together. “You still love me, don’t you?” He smiles. “That’s why you didn’t go to the feds—you love me.”

Get the hell away from me, you want to say, scream it even. You want to tell him that no, you don’t love him, not after what you found, after you realized what he was capable of.

His lips press against your forehead, cold and damp, and a violent shiver runs up your spine, then back down, then up again, and it keeps going, until you’re just trembling in his hold, lips shaking and vision blurry as he cradles the back of your head with a hand. Is this the hand he used to cut that poor man’s head off? Or is it the other hand, the one drawing ‘soothing’ circles into your back.

“I missed you.” His lips brush against the shell of your ear as he speaks, and his hold is loose on you, even gentle, but it feels as if he’s crushing you, squeezing you tight and forcing all the air out of your lungs. It feels as if he’s killing you, slowly. “Holding you,” his hand slips down to grip the back of your neck. “Touching you,” he closes the last inch of space between the two of you, hips pressed flush to yours.

“Can you guess what I missed next?” You can hear the grin in his voice, and then he’s walking you back into your room, shushing your complaints and refusals with overwhelming kisses, hot touches and purposeful strokes.

++