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[blks16]

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[bunnys-kisses]

Hello bunny!!!! I love your bakery series, it's so cute! I have zero clue if you even write for it. But is it possible to get a Jason Todd from DC? Can I get cinnamon rolls with a side of martini & energy drink!

Thank you so much <33333

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! there's tons of items on there along with all the guidelines for submitting an order! as for this anon, thank you for submitting it! i haven't received a dc or marvel request so this is very exciting! so thank you, i hope you enjoy!! (if anyone else wishes to submit anything comic related, please do!!)

cinnamon rolls ("no one needs to know.") + martini (mafia au) + energy drink (doggy style) served by jason todd/red hood (dc comics)

cw: smut/pwp, mafia au, doggy style, mafia boss!reader, boxer!jason todd

you wouldn't consider yourself a bad girl. you in a lot of ways were servicing the people of gotham. you were doing what you felt was right in a broken system.

but even one of the most dangerous women in the city needed a little assistance. that was when your beloved boxer came into your life. his name was jason, a boy thrown out then became a broken man. but, you liked to fix broken things.

you gave jason purpose again, even going as far as to tend to his injuries he got in the ring. kissing along his side and across his knuckles. the red hood was your pride and joy and he in turn adored you more than weeds on the sidewalk loved the sun.

you had returned from the art gallery that evening, it was open late on wednesdays and jason wished to come with you. you held his hand the entire time and kissed him gently when he gazed at a picasso.

"did you have fun?" you asked as you slipped your shoes off.

jason nodded, "i did, i mean, you were more beautiful than anything in that gallery." he chuckled as he took off his sweatshirt and put it over the side of the couch.

you looked at him and walked over to him. you placed your hands on his chest. in all fairness, he was more beautiful than anything in that gallery. if a true artist could capture him in a piece of work, they could probably make millions.

even with all the scarring, the damage on him. to feel his heartbeat under your palm felt nice. you leaned up to kiss him on the lips. he wrapped his strong arms around you.

when you pulled away, you ran a finger across a scar on his face and said, "thank you for coming with me." you had to get up on your tip-toes to get closer to his face.

he chuckled, "ah well, who else would go with you? isn't my job to protect you?"

you chuckled, "no, your job is to punch very hard for me." you joked before you pulled him in for another kiss. you did very little to hide your relationship with jason, you didn't feel the need to. as head of the family, who you were with was not a concern to those below you.

one time you had heard an insult fall from the lips of a a rival family and you simply upper cut the man. jason may be at your side as your defender, but you were more than capable of taking care of yourself.

it was just nice to have a companion.

you both ended up in your shared bedroom. jason got you onto the bed and you started to unbutton the blouse you wore. and he took off the white undershirt he wore. you got a better look at all his scarring and once your shirt was off, you reached for him and grazed your fingers across the scar down the middle of his chest.

he never told you what happened, and you didn't want to pry too much. you believed it would all come out at one point or another. even if it didn't, you'd still love him.

"you're looking at them again." he said softly.

"no one needs to know." you said as you met his gaze, "what happened. you're still my jason, whatever happened to you." you said softly in return.

jason felt his chest tighten as he said, "thank you." before he started to get his jeans off, followed by your skirt. then he was on top of you on the bed, his hands planted on either side of you as he pulled you in for a kiss.

you both took off your undergarments down to your socks and laid in be for a moment, naked in each other's embrace.

jason then got you onto your elbows and knees, his strong hands on your hips as he rubbed his cock up against your slick slit. he groaned through his teeth as he continued to do so. it felt so good against him.

the most dangerous woman in gotham in bed with a boxer. what a sight. you felt the love for him cloud your chest, leaving it tight.

"you have my entire heart." you admitted.

"and you have mine." he replied. he slowly slipped his cock into your pussy and held onto your hips. he sank into you with ease. he knew that he was much bigger than you, so he had to be careful as to not harm you.

he kept his pace steady the more he rutted against you.

jason had never felt more alive then when he was with you. he thought that his life revolved around punching the shit out of people in the boxing ring. the sound of his fists hitting against flesh, that was his purpose. that was what made him feel alive.

but you lit a flame in him. the spitfire woman who handled the family with ease. he wanted you, yearned for you in ways that he never thought he would with another person.

his cock nudged against your cervix and you whimpered against the sheets a little with your back arched. you felt like a dream, the perfect woman for him. he sped up the pace a little bit, keeping a steady rhythm against you.

"you feel so good." he said, "i wish i could nail you up against the wall of the gallery. since you're the most beautiful thing there." he chuckled a little bit.

you arched your back a little but, "you're so fuckin' cheesy, jason."

he chuckled a little, "only for you, babe." the sounds of your love making filled the room, he felt hot all over as he continued to move against you.

"please." you panted, "shit." you gripped onto the bed tightly and moaned a little bit, "you feel so good. no one else does it like you, jason." you whimpered.

he clutched onto his hips tighter and moved faster. he swallowed back the pleasure as he continued to move. he buried his nose into the back of your neck, his broad chest against your back. his arms now wrapped around your middle as he bullied his cock into your pussy.

it all felt so overwhelming, hot all over and he thrusted up into you. you felt protected by your lover, he'd always keep you safe. always love you in ways that neither of you could put into words.

you gripped onto the covers under your body and panted wildly into them. you felt the curl of heat in your gut as you raised your hips further to give your lover a better angle.

the solid mass of a man with that streak of white hair hit against the softest parts of you. it made you whine into the bedding. such a submissive position for such a strong woman. jason would always take care of you. with a few more thrusts, you came around his cock.

"please, jason." you panted.

he continued to rut up into you, feeling the pleasure up and down his spine. he gave a few more hearty thrusts before he finished inside of you with a loud groan. his chest was pressed against your back as he yearned to be close to you.

skin to skin. lover to lover.

he slowed down and laid on top of you when you dropped your hips. he then peppered your shoulders with kisses before he pulled out and laid next to you on the bed. his strong body exposed in the low lamp light of the bedroom.

"jason."

"yeah, hun." he said as he tried to level out his breathing.

you were both panting as you rolled to your side and up against his side. your hand on his chest, fingers grazed the scarring. between heavy breaths you said, "my number one."

he chuckled a little as he pulled you closer. he kissed your sweaty brow and replied, "of course, only the best for my girl." then laid a sweet kiss on your lips.

the mafia boss and her boxer, tangled in the sheets. you guessed that he saved your life as much as you saved his. because you'd always find comfort in the beat of his heart. <3

[unholyhelbig]

Part three of loan shark natty

Title: The Oversight [Part 3/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 3465

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, guns, blood, death, sort of dark nat if you squint, horrible grammar

[A/n: If you guys haven't picked up on it yet, this will be slow-burn. Also, thank you so much for the positive response to this story, it means so much!]

[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

It had been two weeks since the incident that you had deemed ‘the business proposal’, though, if you were being honest, you knew exactly what it was. The bruising against the side of your face, fading from a deep dark purple to an ugly muddy brown reminded you of the encounter. The faster you healed, the more your nerves started to prickle dangerously.

Each time the brass bell above the diner’s door would ring, your eyes would flick to the entrance. With bated breath, you’d study the tired businessman, the English major running on nothing but burnt coffee, or the single mother just looking for some reprieve. Much like yourself.

Clint Barton was the last person you expected and wanted to see. He was certainly the last person you wanted to see, despite the sheepish smile on his face. There was shame etched into his features and a strange softness to his eyes that starkly contrasted the man who had nearly broken your jaw.

His hair was sprinkled with droplets of water, a sweatshirt dotted from the persistent drizzle that seemed to plague the city. He dutifully wiped his feet on the mat and made his way over to you. Instead of his usual booth, Clint sat on the last stool and scratched the stubble on his chin.

He glanced at the menu as if he were going to order something different than his usual. Maybe he wouldn’t order anything at all. But, you had a feeling you weren’t going to escape the conversation at the tip of his tongue, nor the obscenities at the tip of yours.

You poured him a cup of coffee and set it in front of him without being asked. Clint could swallow down a whole pot of extra caffeinated without a second thought. For now, you urged him to pace himself silently.

“You got a couple of minutes?” He asked behind the rim of his cup.

The diner was mostly empty. It was the middle of the workday and had been a slow four hours thus far. There was only so many times you could wiped down the same table and replace the salt in the shakers.

The cook made eye contact with you as he poured alcohol from his flask into off-brand orange soda. You got a short shrug in response. Otherwise, the place was empty. Clint had timed his arrival perfectly.

“Sure. You’re not going to beat the shit out of me again, are you? Those cameras aren’t hooked up, but this is still a public place.”

“Look, I wanted to apologize for that. Bad information breeds bad reactions. I was doing what I was told. You’ll learn that that’s the only way to get anywhere in this practice.”

He stated it plainly as if you weren’t silently inducted into a criminal ring. You weren’t exactly sure what they did but if it was half as bad as what they’d done to you, it was trouble. Clint could sense your unease. He placed his mug down and lifted a bandaged eyebrow.

“Hold your grudge, y/n. I sure would. Natasha simply told me to collect you after your shift. So, you can sit here and glower at me like a grumpy little monster or you can make conversation and we can become friends.”

You hated how good the second suggestion sounded. He was charming in an annoying type of way. You’d never clicked with anyone in the diner before, certainly not the only other employee that stood behind the grill.

Clint was staring at you like he knew you’d already folded. He covered his smirk with another sip of coffee. You wanted to wipe the cocky grin off his face. He had effectively taken a shot at you, that much was true, but you had crumbled just as easily under Natasha’s wishes.

“Friends is a stretch.” You sounded out.

“Acquaintances, then.”

You conceded with a small nod and Clint smiled in a way that could only be genuine. He swallowed off the rest of his coffee and made small talk with you as you hustled around the restaurant. There was a small rush after classes at the community college let out. But you were able to carry on a conversation, learning a little more about him.

He’d been friends with Natasha for a long time. That much was clear by the way his eyes crinkled along the edges when he’d recall memories that stretched past their current affairs and into childhood.  

“We met when we were twelve. I’d just moved to town and was this scrawny, awkward mess of puberty and acne. An easy target is what I’m saying. A lot of neighborhood boys would target me, but I was faster than them. It usually worked in my favor, but there was one day when it had just snowed and it was impossible for me to get any headway.”

Clint regaled you as you filled up his mug for the third time. You lingered behind the counter, chin on your hand as you listened intently.  

“Six of them cornered me at a construction site. I didn’t even know how to begin to fight back. I was beaten close to death and then I heard Nat. She ran head-first into danger, tried to take on every single one of them. Of course, she got the shit kicked out of her too, she was just a kid there was no way for her to win. But that didn’t’ matter because she got back up every single time. Eventually they got cold, or bored, probably both.”

You didn’t want to admit that you were impressed. “Shit, that’s quite the meeting.”

“She’s tough, y/n. Not someone you want to fuck with.”

“So, this is a warning, then?” You smiled.

He shrugged his shoulders “A cautionary tale.”

He drove a 1970 Dodge challenger that smelled like cherry leather polish. It was the nicest car you had ever seen, that is, until he pulled up the iron-gated mansion on the outskirts of the city. There was a brilliant view of the harbor, the water a deep and dark blue that seemed endless, an orange sun casting delicious shadows against the docks.

The house was brick, built in a southern style with a large wrap around porch and a stone fountain in the center of a circular gravel drive. It was three stories of decadence, surrounded by large oak trees and the deepest green grass. This was the home of a Politian, or of someone who had one under their thumb.

Three black SUVs were parked in tandem outside. An equally pitch Corvette Stingray was parked directly in front of the steps. You struggled to muffle the thoughts of Natasha in the front seat. The vehicle suited her, and while you most certainly were not a car person, you knew the value of a ride like that.

Clint squirmed with pride, that same smile on his face. It was one that often accompanied him, you’d learn. He took the steps two at a time and waited to open the doors until you’d caught up. He removed his jacket and draped it over the coat rack just by entryway. You, however, were preoccupied by the elegance of the home.

The floor was a checkered black and white, stretching all the way down a corridor to open storm doors, letting in a crisp spring warmth. Light danced against art that cost more than your entire apartment building. White stairs clung to the wall and curved to the second floor. To your left, a dining room. To your right, a living area that had the softest white carpet, and a cream grand piano that your fingers twitched to run over.

There was a sour scent of bleach that reached your nose, and it was only then, did you realize the blood. It was distilled, a quiet pink color, that had been diluted by diligent scrubbing. The girl, the one that was often at Clint’s side herself, was on her knees a few feet away.

She held a scrub brush that looked like the ones used to clean the grout at the diner. Her forehead was damp with sweat, a few stray strands of dark hair falling into stormy gray eyes. The front of her shirt was stained in the majority of the blood. You failed to see how she would have much to clean from the floor. Yet, the bucket of water next to her was a frothy mess of red.

“An hour,” Clint tsked, shaking his head “I left you alone for an hour. I specifically said that I was coming back with a guest, and it was imperative not to freak her out.”

“I’m not freaked out.”

You were absolutely freaked out. But you were quick to realize whose home you were in. The scrubbing of a crime scene was startling, and you wanted to turn tail and run. However, you had seen worse before and your life had been spared once. You weren’t going to get squeamish now.

“You sound freaked out.” Clint turned his attention back to the girl “And its bad manners. If I were the police?”

“You wouldn’t have gotten through the gate.” She stood, dropping the brush into the bucket with a defiant splash. She was taller than you thought, the deep red of her collar harsh against her skin. There was a smile on her lips, and she reached out a hand to you. “I’m Kate.”

“This is y/n and she’s not going to shake that.” Clint batted Kate’s hand away “Who was this?”

Kate rolled her eyes. It was an action that you yourself would never do. Clint may be a bit aloof, but you had seen him in action. Namely when he was three seconds from snapping the bones in your face. She had no fear of him, though. There was a cockiness, a charming attention, to her stance. He didn’t’ seem to mind, or he had gotten so used to her attitude that seeped into him instead.

“I don’t know. Yelena brought them in. If you’re so concerned about the mess, maybe you should take it up with her.” There was a grin that mirrored Clints. She knew she’d won. “I can go get her if you want.”

“No need. Where’s Nat?”

“Out back by the pool. It’s a lovely day.” She leaned close to you, smelling of cleaner, of tin and of the slightest bit of chewed mint. “It’s great to meet you, y/n.”

You were careful not to lose your footing on the slick floors. Clint nudged the bucket with his toe as he walked by, sloshing about the soiled water. Kate cut him a look that only you saw, but it was one that was almost playful. She shook her head and went back to her task.

There were two things you had picked up from the conversation; Clint was afraid of Yelena, and there was somewhere soundproof in this house that she had taken someone that had lost a lot of blood. You shoved both thoughts to the back of your mind when you exited onto the back porch.

Natasha was stretched out like a cat in the sun. She wore a black bikini that left very little to the imagination. You could feel the blush against your cheeks as you averted your eyes to anywhere else, though, you swore she arched her back from the chair at the sound of your footsteps.

Her hair, still slightly damp, was cascading down her shoulders. She wore a pair of sunglasses, a book that was marked halfway through rested on the table next to her. She had clearly given up on reading, instead fully devoting herself to the sun.

Clint didn’t acknowledge her current state, nor did he have an adverse reaction to it. Your mouth was dry, and you shoved your hands into your jeans to keep them from trembling. It was a mix of fear and attraction that caught you off guard on a mostly empty stomach.

She moved her glasses down the expanse of her nose as you approached. Her stare was a startling green, raking across your form. She quirked an eyebrow. The specter of a smile on her face. Clint had noticed something you didn’t, his body language changing into something unreadable.

“y/n,” Natasha purred your name. You fought back a shiver. “You’ve healed nicely.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“ma’am? What manners you have. That’s severely lacking around here.”

Clint rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut. You did the same, partly out of fear. But mostly, you were distracted by the scars against her stomach, on her arms and down her back. It wasn’t something you had noticed at first, nor did you permit yourself to stare. Whatever had been done to you when they’d first taken you was nothing compared to what Natasha had been through. Her body told a story, one that you longed to learn.

“Hey sharpshooter,” She turned her attention to Clint “I think Yelena might need your help downstairs. Y/n. Stay.”

It was a clear dismissal, and one that he didn’t’ take lightly. He patted you on the shoulder before entering the house once more. You listened to his footfalls for a few moments, holding your breath until you started to feel your vision falter.

You’d been alone with Natasha before. But this felt different. Heavier. The questions that you’d had these last two weeks were meant to be answered. She gestured for you to sit on the opposite chair, which you did carefully, body tightened to make yourself as small as possible. She removed her glasses entirely, a strand of russet hair falling into her gaze.

“You’re going to quit your job at the diner.” She said.

“I can’t do that,” Your response was automatic.

Natasha sat up, placing her bare feet adjacent to yours. Her knees were pressed against your own. She easily could have pushed your own open and she stared at you as if she contemplated the fact herself. Instead, she lilted her head and peered at you.

“What I mean, ma’am, is that’s my livelihood.”

“Oh, I understand. I wasn’t perfectly clear. You work for me, now. You’re on my payroll. I’m sure it’ll be quite an upgrade.” She leaned closer. “Do you know what I do, y/n?”

You swallowed hard and shook your head. There was an inkling. But it was just speculation. Someone with a home like this had a good handle on business. Natasha certainly conveyed fear, and commanded respect. So did the people who worked for her, willing to take a bullet in moment’s notice.

You weren’t there yet, but you were sure with a little persuasion, you would be. Part of you had felt slighted. They’d pulled you from your life, from your daughter, and threw you into this without any type of explanation.

“The harbor behind you is a center of trade. Whoever controls the harbor controls the city, and for generations my family has had a monopoly when it comes to what comes in and out. There is not a single freight that can dock here without getting past me. Recently, that’s been threatened.”

She sighed and worked a hand through her hair. Her stare flicked past your shoulder, focused on the expanse of water that had been a staple in your life. You’d walk along the docks, chat with the vendors on the way to work. It seemed like a friendly place.

“There are two prominent families in this city, Y/n. The Romanov’s and Danver’s. For the past three years they’ve been pushing back against the real leadership, getting creative. Looking for change. But we simply can’t allow that to happen. Things work as they are.”

You had a feeling that this was the core of her beliefs. Things how they were weren’t so bad. Each person had their own struggles but when it came to integral crime on the streets, in the boroughs, you hadn’t noticed anything and that was the way you liked it. Ignorant, maybe. But it was none of your concern. Not until now.

“A lot of people work for me, but my numbers are dwindling. It’s hard to find good help anymore. You know how it is.”

You didn’t.

“There’s something… in you that I admire. A perseverance to live and protect and you’re going to do exactly that for me.” Natasha stated this plainly. “The Winter Soldier will be predisposed. Not permanently. But I would like you to replace him.” 

There must have been disbelief written across your features because Natasha laughed, actually laughed, as your jaw fell open. It was a lovely sound; you must admit. Bucky was well known in the neighborhood. Even without being knee deep in mafia sludge, you had heard of him. You feared him. And the thought of stirring the same reaction seemed unattainable.

“I… what about Clint?” You asked dumbly. He seemed like the natural choice.

“He’s got his hands full with an heiress who, I’m sure you can tell, is a bit aloof. But extremely valuable. Much like yourself.” She quirked an eyebrow “if it’s experience, you’re worried about, don’t be. I’ll train you myself.”

She stood and tapped your leg with her fingers, arousal shooting straight to your core at the slight contact. Your body almost refused to move, but you were quick to snap out of it when she smiled wolfishly down at you. “Now, have you ever killed anyone?”

Your voice was pinched. “No.”

“We’ll have to change that, darling.” She started to saunter away, grabbing her silk cover-up from the back of a nearby chair. She slid it over her shoulders, and it hugged her form with just enough ferocity as the bathing suit. “Come, dear. I have just the person in mind.”

The basement was significantly cooler than the rest of the house, bathed by the sun. As you descended the stone steps, you fought the urge to smooth your fingers over your skin to quell the frigid air.

Natasha seemed unbothered. She led you into a large room that you assumed was soundproof. It was a fairly empty room, lit with artificial bulbs that reminded you much of the warehouse they’d kept you in for the weekend. This seemed more malicious though. Not something to extract information exactly. A form of punishment.

A man was strung up from a low hanging rafter, his feet barely touching the ground. Rope was tied around his wrists, his hands above his head. Blood dripped like syrup from his lips, from a wound against his side. His left knee looked unnatural and broken.

You fought back a groan at the sight, at the smell of him. One eye was swollen shut, his fingers curling when he noticed Natasha’s presence.

Clint’s back was to you, his fingers dancing over an array of tools. He hummed a Metallica song, stopping at a pair of pliers. Yelena had her arms crossed over her chest, walking a slow, predatory circle around the man.

“No,” Yelena took the pliers from Clint “He will need his teeth to talk.”

Your throat tightened. This was the same woman who had sat next to your daughter in the diner. The one who had complimented her art and your job at raising her. She was easy to have conversations with, charming in the purest sense.

She turned towards both of you. “Natasha, you shouldn’t wear open toed shoes here. It is unsanitary.”

The woman next to you was not admonished in the slightest. Not by the cold or the harsh words of Yelena. Instead, she studied the man in front of you. He was in rough shape. If he hadn’t talked yet, he wasn’t going to. That much was clear.

This felt like the first time you served without following around an older, more experienced waitress. Your fingers were trembling and there was a wild nervousness that was in the pit of your stomach. Eventually, you learned, and it was second nature. You wondered if that’s what Natasha wanted. For you to learn not to cringe away from things like this. Just like the Winter Soldier.

As if to prove your thought process, Natasha said “Which one of you has your gun?”

They both pulled them out of various places at the same time, without hesitation, to the question. It made sense that Natasha didn’t have a weapon on her, not with the outfit that she walked around in. The cover-up was too tight against her skin, too revealing.

Yelena was closer, so Natasha grabbed the weapon from her. “Have you ever shot a gun before?”

“I have.”

Your second foster father was a deputy sheriff in Minnesota. On half-frozen nights, he’d return home from the local bar reeking of sour alcohol and sweat. The door to your bedroom would creak open and he’d drag you from bed, barefoot and in your pajamas.

Most of the time, he had cans set up on an old picnic table that had rotted through. At first, it was your job to set the cans back up and fight off hypothermia. But after three or four sleepless nights, he taught you how to shoot. His body was warm against your back and the first time the gun kicked you had nearly broken your nose.

You considered yourself a good shot when it came to cans, wild turkeys, and even the occasional buck. This was different. This was a human being that was taking in heaving breathes and fighting to pull himself up to give his bad knee a break.

“Do you know how to aim?” Natasha asked.

“It’s been years.”

“Okay,” She breathed.

You flinched when she moved behind you. Her warmth was all encapsulating. She smelled of sunscreen, and vaguely of the salt of the ocean. Natasha’s fingers pressed against your hip, giving you a small squeeze, signaling for you to take a step back.

Her other hand dropped the pistol into yours, heavy and warm. Her hand trailed up your arms, giving you goosebumps, fingers tightening around your own until you held the gun towards the man. The stranger.

Natasha’s chin was on your shoulder, her breathe hot against your cheek. Her voice came out in a whisper. “Right there. When you’re ready.”

She’d aimed the tip of the gun directly between his eyes. You could hear your heartbeat in both ears, vibrating through your body. It wasn’t hesitation, exactly. In this moment, it was his life or yours. Clint and Yelena watched you carefully, with intent.

You took a deep, shaking, breath and clenched your eyes before pulling the trigger. You expected some sort of blow-back. The same throbbing pain that you recalled from shooting at the cans. The scent of gunpowder mixing with cold.

None of those came.

Instead, there was a small click. The safety was on, and though you had squeezed the trigger with the intention to kill, it simply did not fire. You inadvertently slumped back into Natasha and the hand on your hip snaked around your middle, holding you close.

“You won’t have to kill often,” Natasha explained “But it’s good to know you’d do it without question if I tell you to.”

“Oh, Natasha, do not play with her. It is not nice.”

Smoothly, Natasha worked the gun from your hand and switched the safety off before you could blink. She fired two shots in succession, not releasing her hold on you. Your ear was ringing and the man in front of you slumped in his bindings.

“Okay. Very effective. You owe me bullets.” Yelena took her weapon back. “You are cleaning this up.”

“That means I’m cleaning this up.” Clint said.

Natasha hummed in agreement, finally pulling herself away from you. “I think this a job for two, don’t you, y/n?”

There wasn’t room to disagree with her. Not when you could only hear out of one ear, your skin still buzzing from her lingering touch. You could have sworn you felt her own heartbeat against your shoulder blade.

 But you’d never bring that up.

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[wittlesissyb4by]

"Watcha doing, little one? Why are you coming into my room? You know the only reason you're allowed in here is if you need your diaper changed. Are you wet?"

You propped yourself up from your hands and knees so that you could submit to Michelle's humiliating diaper check.

Michelle was your 'Big'. After several drunken disorderlies around campus, and a reputation for sleeping with (and fucking over) several girls at the dorm, you were quickly labeled as a 'problematic student'.

It happens to a lot of incoming Freshman and Sophomores. Their first few years at college, without supervision, some don't know how to handle the freedom and end up abusing it.

So, in an effort to alleviate the problem and keep the campus/dormitory looking good, a program was established to help students better transition into their adult life. These problematic students obviously weren't ready to be adults, and they must need 'parental' supervision because, without it, they apparently didn't know how to behave.

Seniors in good standing would be assigned a 'little' that needed correction. They would monitor, counsel, and sometimes punish their little to make sure they were making proper choices. But, call a spade a spade: they were basically your glorified babysitter.

The program quickly evolved, with each dorm finding more and more...successful methods of rehabilitating their peers.

The powers that be at the University simply looked the other way. After all, constantly expelling students made them look bad, they couldn't develop a reputation for constantly admitting delinquents, and hazing was something that happened all the time anyway. So, they decided to leave each dorm to their own devices.

Unfortunately for you, the device at your dorm was quite possibly the most humiliating of them all. They called it the 'Crinkle Correction'. They said it served as a way to 'start fresh', by starting you over in big, fat, crinkly diapers.

You had little choice in the matter. At only 20 years of age, the citations you received for drinking could get you expelled, or worse, put in jail. Girls around campus could file reports that you abused/assaulted them (even though you didn't), and it would ruin your reputation and any chances of landing a good job. Your only choice was to man up and take it.

"My goodness you are wet!" Michelle exclaimed. "Look how plump and puffy your pamper is!"

You flushed as you knelt in front of her, wearing nothing but your soggy diaper, feeling her grope and poke every square inch of the front in order to emphasize her point.

After she was certain that your cheeks couldn't get any redder, she placed the tip of her finger into your waistband, and gently pulled back.

"D'awww! Why is it crying?" she cooed as she peeked inside, referring to your caged cock. Michelle thought it was the perfect solution to keep you from fucking every girl on campus (as if the diapers wouldn't serve the exact same purpose), "you're leaking chastity tears!" she giggled, wiggling her hips in her sweatshirt with nothing but panties underneath. She knew it drove you crazy, she liked watching you clench your legs in an attempt to stem the flow to your crotch.

She circled you, watching you tremble. You wondered if other Bigs were as dominant as her, as demeaning, or did you get unlucky in that regard too?

"Did you go poo poo too?" she sneered in her sinister voice, circling you like a lioness around her prey.

"Y-yes ma'am..." you whimpered.

Frumpp!!

A swift kick to the back of your droopy diaper, her foot perfectly landing at the base of your balls. It wasn't her first time. You groaned and collapsed forward on your hands and knees.

"Tell me." She hissed into your ear. "Tell me what you did in your diaper."

"I went poo poo's in my pampers, Mommy!!" you whined into the floor, trying your best not to sob in front of her. She'd made you call her 'Mommy' since the first day she 'adopted' you.

"Awww!! Is that what that stench is?" She asked, as if she didn't know it as soon as you crawled in. She probably could have smelled you from down the hallway.

"Yes Mommy!!" you blubbered, losing your composure. "Sorry for stinking up your room!! B-baby needed to make a boom boom!"

It was pathetic. Pitiful. But you told yourself this was your only chance of staying in college and landing a solid career.

"Hmmm...well I'm sorry, little one, but you know I don't change dirties. You're gonna have to go find an RF for that..." But that didn't stop her from pressing her hand to your padded behind and mushing the mess into your backside while you cringed and whimpered.

RF's were 'ReFormed' students that had already made it through their semester of Crinkle Correction. Having to change dirty diapers served as a reminder of what they'd been through, and how easily they could go back if they ever decide to slip up again.

You obviously knew this. You'd had to make several crawls of shame through the hallways to one of the RF's rooms. But Michelle insisted that you come show her your filthy diapers first.

"Off you go," she said, taking the pacifier dangling from your neck and putting it back in your mouth. She smiled triumphantly, turning back to finally find some bottoms to put on.

Dismissed, you begrudgingly made your way out the door.

"Come back later, loser." she called after you. "I've got some girlfriends coming over. We'll play dress-up and turn you into a wittle baby gurl!"

As if. You thought. No way you would subject yourself to that level of humiliation! But she must have read your mind.

"If you do, and you're a good wittle pwincess, I might let you borrow my vibrator!"

God damnit. You thought. I'll be there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was an exclusive caption on my SubStar for the past 6 months. Go there to get more captions you won't see anywhere else, full access to all of my stories, and help a great cause (my electricity bill)!!

[goldengalore]

Rough Day

Summary: For Harry, nothing makes up for a bad day better than rough sex. Luckily, he has his friend Y/N to help out with that.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: smut (friends with benefits, mean dom!harry, degradation, bondage, spanking w hands and belt, choking, oral, anal, use of ball gag and butt plug)

***

Harry slams the door behind him as he enters Y/N’s apartment. He texted her earlier to ask if he could come over. His message alluded to the possibility of rough play, which Y/N could hardly ever refuse. As soon as he arrives, she can sense the irritability radiating off of him. It shouldn’t excite her this much—her friend being in a crappy mood—but it does.

“Hey,” she greets him, sitting up on the couch where she’s been indulging in some online shopping for the past hour.

He just hums in response and drops his duffle bag on the floor before removing his shoes, coat, and gloves.

“Rough day?” she asks, studying him.

“You have no idea,” he mutters.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

Of course he doesn’t. Harry doesn’t like to talk at the end of a bad day. He likes to fuck. Without holding back.

Glancing at her, he says, “Wait there.” Then he picks up his bag and heads into her bedroom. A minute later, he emerges from the room without the bag and strides over to her.

“Up,” he says, as if he were instructing a dog.

“Okay.” She sighs and takes her time getting off the couch to avoid seeming too eager, even though on the inside, she’s ready to do just about anything he tells her.

Once she’s on her feet, he simply says, “Clothes off.”

Again, she dawdles while pulling her sweatshirt off and fumbles with the waistband of her shorts, lazily inching them down her legs. Harry releases an impatient sigh.

“Today, Y/N.”

“Okay, okay!” She quickly removes the rest of her clothes.

The path his eyes take as they trail down her bare body sends the blood rushing between her legs. He steps closer and places his mouth over hers. His hands rest on her hips for a mere second before sliding to her backside. He squeezes it firmly, his fingers digging into the flesh of her round cheeks and pulling her body upward. She rises up on her toes and clutches his shoulders for balance. His teeth bite into her bottom lip. He tugs her even closer until her naked body is flush against his clothed one.

The kiss ends abruptly, leaving her wanting more. All of a sudden, he lifts her off the ground and slings her over his shoulder like she weighs nothing at all. Her upper body hangs behind him, her ass in the air.

“What are you—?” she starts, but he lands a swift smack to her rear, ordering her to be quiet.

He carries her to the bedroom and tosses her on the bed, not bothering with gentleness, then flips her onto her stomach. While she finds her bearings, he bends down to grab something from his bag, which is sitting on the floor next to the bed.

A moment later, her wrists are pulled behind her back and cuffed together. His hands wrap around her ankles and yank her towards him until she’s bent over the edge of the bed with her feet on the floor. She hears the clink of his belt buckle behind her.

It all happens so fast. One moment, he’s rubbing the tip of his cock over her entrance, and the next, his entire length is inside her. No warning. No preamble. A strangled moan escapes her mouth.

“So fucking wet,” he growls, grabbing on to her hips. “You like being manhandled and tossed around like a ragdoll?”

He doesn’t wait for her to answer before ramming his cock into her again. Usually, he’ll start slow and build up to a hard and fast pace, but today, he seems overcome by a primal desperation—one that has probably been festering inside him all day. She can barely keep up, but that makes it all the more exhilarating.

One hand pins her bound wrists to her lower back, keeping her in place, while the other grips her hair and yanks her head backwards, forcing her to arch her back. He finishes fast, emptying deep inside of her cunt, grunting and moaning with relief. She looks over her shoulder at him.

“That’s it? I didn’t even come,” she says just to egg him on.

He grabs a fistful of her hair again and speaks lowly into her ear, “What makes you think I give a fuck about your pleasure, hm? Sluts like you don’t deserve to come.”

He releases her hair and pulls out. Some of his come leaks down her inner thigh. Through the corner of her eye, she sees him reach down towards his bag. And then something cool and hard pokes between her legs. He presses the object into her slit, twisting it around, dousing it in her arousal and his come. It’s a plug, she realizes. A rather large one.

Once it’s covered in a mix of their fluids, he uses his free hand to spread apart her cheeks and starts inserting the plug into her tightest hole. He doesn’t really take his time. The rounded tip goes in, then the rest of it is hastily crammed into her. They’ve been doing this long enough that it slides in easily, but she still squirms and whines at the discomfort.

“Oh, stop whining,” he snaps. “It’s not even that big. You’ve had bigger things in your ass before.”

She scowls at him over her shoulder. “Well, if you think it’s so easy, why don’t you try shoving one up your own ass?”

He retaliates with a harsh spank.

“Ow!”

“Bold of you to talk back to me from the extremely vulnerable position you’re in right now,” he threatens, and the effects of his words are felt right between her legs.

He grabs something else from his bag, then tells her to open her mouth before shoving a ball gag in there. He secures the leather strap behind her head.

“That’s better,” he says. “Should’ve done that ten minutes ago. Only thing your mouth is good for is sucking me off anyway. Isn’t that right?”

All she can do is glare at him with the gag in her mouth.

“Glad you agree, love,” he says with a cocky smirk.

A soft, plushy object is placed in her hand—the squeaky toy they use in place of the safeword when she’s bound and gagged. Then he folds his belt in half and gently glides the cool leather over her bum. As soon as he raises the belt, she tenses and screws her eyes shut, bracing herself for the first strike. When it doesn’t come, she relaxes a bit and opens one eye, falling for the same trick he’s used on her countless times.

The belt smacks against her ass. She cries out. A second smack makes her knees buckle, dragging her down a bit.

“Stay still,” he orders.

It’s a good thing she’s gagged because she definitely would’ve answered back with a snarky comment and made things worse for herself.

He whips her with the belt several times in a row. Her ass clenches around the plug each time. He pauses only briefly to run his hands over the bright red marks now decorating her backside, like an artist proudly inspecting his work. And then he’s back to belting her, occasionally aiming for the backs of her thighs. There’s no doubt that sitting will be a challenge tomorrow.

Tears stain the sheets beneath her while her cunt drips with arousal, the pain cathartic and excruciating at the same time. She comes somewhere between the punishing blows, too lost in the pleasure to keep count.

He eventually stops and tosses the belt aside, telling her to get up on the bed. It’s a little awkward with her hands cuffed behind her, but she manages anyway. Once again, he yanks her around like a doll until he has her in his desired position: lying on her back with her head hanging off the edge of the bed. Her hands are trapped under her but still free enough to squeak the toy if needed. He removes the gag from her mouth and instantly replaces it with his hard cock.

“Let’s put that whore mouth to good use,” he says as he begins fucking her mouth the same way he fucked her pussy earlier.

His tip connects with the back of her throat over and over, his large hands clawing at her breasts. He pinches and tugs at her nipples hard enough to make her body arch off the bed. Then he brings a hand to the front of her neck, squeezing it while his hips continue thrusting into her mouth. She presses her thighs together tightly.

Just when she thinks he’s going to come down her throat, he pulls out. She gasps for air. Finally, he takes off his own clothes and joins her on the bed, flipping her over onto her stomach. He uncuffs her wrists and cuffs them above her head instead, then lifts her up onto her knees and forearms.

She feels him tug on the base of the butt plug, fucking her with it a little before taking it out. He squirts a generous amount of lube between her cheeks and begins driving his cock into her ass but doesn’t get further than a couple inches. She’s too tense. It always seems to happen despite how many times they’ve done this.

“Gonna have to relax for me, love,” he says in the softest tone she’s heard him use all night. His hand caresses her lower back. He can be a dick sometimes, but he’s shockingly aware of when she needs a gentle touch.

“Give me a minute,” she says, steadying her breathing before telling him to continue.

He pushes in a bit more, then draws back and pushes in again, going a little deeper every time. Once the tightness in her muscles eases, he slides all the way in and holds himself there.

“Fuck,” she groans. “Fuck me.”

“Beg.”

Her mind is so muddled by the intense sensation of her hole stretching around his cock that she almost doesn’t hear the word.

“Huh?”

“Beg me to fuck your ass,” he demands.

That bastard.

“Fuck you,” she replies, though it comes out as more of a whine than an insult.

“I’m not moving an inch until you beg.” He grips her hips tightly to ensure that she can’t move either.

She doesn’t want to give in so quickly, doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction. But as much as she hates to admit it, Harry’s dick makes her weak. And the worst part is he knows it too.

“Please, H, please fuck me. Your cock feels so good in my ass. I need you to fuck me hard and not hold back. Just— Fuck! Just use me for your pleasure. Please.”

Finally, Harry’s hips start moving. He retracts them, then thrusts forward sharply. She cries out in surprise and relief. He starts pounding into her. Quick, sharp thrusts. One after another. With little pause in between. She would reach down and rub her clit if her wrists weren’t bound together. Fortunately, Harry has the same thought. His hand finds her clit, rubbing it in fast circles to speed up her orgasm.

She feels it crash over her moments later, igniting in her core and spreading outward to her limbs. Harry continues fucking her through it, not slowing down for a second. He tells her he’s going to come in her ass, calling her his good little cumslut and his perfect little fucktoy and every filthy word in the book, becoming more and more incoherent until he finally lets go with a deep groan.

Rolling over onto the bed, he frees her wrists and tosses the cuffs to the side, not caring where they land. Y/N lets her knees give out under her and falls onto her stomach with a soft thud. She closes her eyes. A while later, his fingertips graze the back of her shoulder.

“Hey,” he says softly, “you good?”

She opens her eyes and grins. “Yup.”

“Wasn’t too rough, was I?”

“You know that’s how I like it.”

A pleased sigh leaves his lips. He runs a hand through his hair, pushing the stray curls off his damp forehead.

“Thanks for letting me come over,” he says. “I really needed that.”

“Aww, you needed me?” she teases, knowing how much he despises the idea of “needing” anyone.

He scoffs and looks away, but not before Y/N can notice the blush creeping into his cheeks.

“You wish,” he grumbles.

“Whatever you say, tough guy.”

***

Thank you for reading!  MASTERLIST

[mrs-kodzuken]

The beginning of new love ♡

Pairing: Aged up!Wakatoshi Ushijima x fem!reader

WC: 1k

Genre: fluff

CW: fem!reader, fluff, kind of oc ushijima, just (y/n) loving ushi, big baby ushijima

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

The lightening of the TV flashed upon Ushijima's peaceful, sleeping face. I peeked upon his face from the position I was in which was laying on his broad chest.

He's been practicing like crazy lately, of course I hadn't minded, but he does need a break here and there.

There really isn't a time where he's not practicing like his life force depends on it but I understand wanting to constantly improve yourself.

I run a hand through his soft olive hair.

I didn't want to wake him up by asking him to move to his bedroom. So, I simply grabbed the blanket from the side of the couch and pulled it on top of his large frame.

The blanket is always there just in case he or I ever fall asleep on the couch.

As much as he hates sleeping on the couch, I can't bear to wake him up from his slumber. I bent down to kiss his cheek and smiled softly at him.

Not to be creepy but I love staring at him when he's sleep. Toshi has really fierce but elegant features and they are so gorgeous on him.

I checked the time and it was around ten at night, I guess he must have really worn himself out today at practice.

I started to feel bad because I was the one who wanted to watch a movie in the first place.

I grabbed the remote to switch off the TV and cleaned up our empty popcorn bowl. I aimed to be extremely quiet in order to not disturb the hunk of a man sleeping on the couch.

I glanced over at him once more before heading to his room. I definitely didn't want to kill him with all my weight by sleeping on him all night.

I would have suffocated the poor guy.

Once I was in his bedroom, I left the door open, no matter how much it scared me. It was just in case he woke up and decided to come in here.

I'll have to say, Ushijima's bed was way bigger than mine for sure.

This meant that whenever l sleep in his bed, it's like I'm a small bug. No joke.

I switched out of my clothes into his large and comfy sweatshirt and shorts. I love being a little replica of him.

Sinking into his unusually comfortable bed, I pulled my phone out.

Deciding to play a game till I got tired seemed like the best option. I opened my 'games' folder on my phone and picked one.

After a while, I had grown bored of my games and phone. I glanced over to his side of the bed and looked at his pillow.

I snatched it and pulled it towards me, pretending that it was Toshi, I cuddled it. The scent of him enveloped me as I breathed it in deeper into my lungs.

If he saw me right now he would definitely think I'm being more weird than the usual amount.

I checked the time and saw that it was almost 12 am. Sighing, I turned over to my left, still cuddling the pillow tightly against my chest.

A strange feeling made my body awake. I peeled my eyes open to see a tall figure at the end of the bed.

That's not scary at all.

A chill ran down my spine as fear shocked through throughout my body. I calmed down as I came to the realization it was just Wakatoshi.

The poor guy had the couch blanket wrapped around his body and head. The simple gesture made him have the resemblance of a child.

A very large child.

I picked up my phone to see what time it was, my clock on the lock screen had shone 3 am brightly, almost blinding me.

Leaning up, my body still heavy with sleep even after the scare. I opened my mouth just a bit to speak but he beat me to it.

"Why'd you leave me in there by myself?" He questioned me quietly.

I raised an eyebrow and refrained from letting out a little laugh.

"Really? You were sleeping and I didn't want to wake you. Did you want to sleep in here?" I chuckled and moved over more so he could lay down beside me.

Once in, his big arms held warmth as he pulled me closer to his chest. I just couldn't help but to roll my eyes at his soft state.

I didn't know he had such a soft and delicate side along with his usual demeanor.

"You're so cute." I turned over more to peck his rosy tinted lips.

I watched him stare at me as I did so back to him, a kind of awkward silence filled between us before he got my hint. Moving in towards me, he kissed my lips.

I chuckled as he pulled away with a slight pout. I could only wonder what was going on in his mind. His eyes trailed all over my face.

That must've been a sight to see, I had just woken up after all.

He leaned in once again but started pecking all over my face. I started giggling at him while he kissed my nose. This is so unlike his usual behavior that if anyone were to see, it would be unbelievable.

"I like you." He stated, straight faced, when he was done pecking all over my face. I couldn't help but to let out a cry of laughter. It simply just escaped my mouth.

"I like you too, Toshi," I softly replied, leaning up to kiss his nose too.

We have been in a relationship for about four months and he keeps saying that. I think it's really adorable, it was as if he didn't know there was anything else he could say besides, I like you.

On the same note, it felt a bit too early to rush into saying the 'I love you's'.

I turned back around and let him nuzzle into me, his face buried within the crook of my neck. A smile graced my lips before I had fallen asleep once again for that night.

However, this time Toshi had me wrapped in his big warming arms and I felt complete.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

a/n: this is from my book “Haikyuu x Reader One Shots” on Wattpad! I hope you enjoyed and let me know if you want more!

the header is from bianca 🖇️ on Pinterest

[andreas-river]

Hey i hope you're doing good, i was wondering if you could write a oneshot where könig finds out reader harms herself? If your not comfortable with this it's totally okay

König X Fem!Civilian!Reader

Words count: approx. 1.5k

Disclaimer: this is a fictional piece, but talks about difficult themes. Read at your discrection. If you are experiencing this, please, please, talk to someone, or seek professional help. Pain is a subtle enemy; don't underestimate it.

Warnings: mention and description of self-harm, blood, cuts and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff, mention of bullying, self-destructive thoughts, angst.

════════════════════

You don't remember exactly how you ended up back in your room: your legs moved on their own, and your hands trembled, pushed by the unhealthy desire that hovered inside your head.

You knew it was wrong, but you kept doing it. Ever since you were a teenager, you had felt the need to forget years of bullying and insults, which led to various episodes of self-harm until it became part of your routine.

It wasn't just a desire, it was a need. The red liquid that slowly poured out of the cuts was the only relief as everything else lost its meaning, your body was out of touch with the reality around you.

You no longer felt anything, your emotions erased one by one with each cut on your skin.

Even though you could see the bloodied arms in front of you, it was as if they were not there.

You could even taste the metallic taste on your tongue, but you paid no attention to it, not even the smell alarmed your nose: it was okay, it was your routine.

And it went on for so long that you lost track of time, day after day you found yourself sitting on the floor of your bathroom, letting go of the self-destructive instinct that had now taken total control.

The clock on the wall struck midnight, and you let your eyes wander without focus, like a distant spectator.

Through the open door you could clearly see the hallway leading to your bedroom: you remembered well all the sleepless nights you had spent in the past weeks, your eyes fixed on the empty side of the bed, often occupied by König.

That was your almost boyfriend? No, best friend - not even. You were both something abstract, unspoken: the relationship had no definite form or meaning, nor did the way you met. It was in the airport, while you were working in one of the cafes in the airport.

You were distracted by too many customer orders, organizing yourself among the various demands, when the trace of a man had obscured your view. He had his head covered by the hood of his sweatshirt, the military pattern clearly visible in the fabric: in fact, he looked like a soldier, his posture confident and determined.

But when your eyes landed on his blue ones, it was like seeing a frightened boy: he showed confidence, but you could clearly see when he was tense, as one of his clenched hands rested on the counter.

"Hi, what can I get you?" you had said with a smile, and as if he had woken up from a daydream, he gave you his full attention.

"A hot chocolate..." You saw him struggle as a small smile formed on his lips. "...please."

You had simply nodded, and for the next twenty minutes he stood there, motionless, drinking his hot chocolate, only occasionally letting his eyes wander elsewhere - his attention locked on you.

It was not the first time someone had looked at you; many men passed through this airport.

But you were surprised when, in the weeks that followed, you saw him every day sitting at the counter at the same time, always ordering the same chocolate.

That's how it all started, but you weren't sure it was anything concrete. He had given you his attention and time so many times, and every time he could leave the military base, he was back at the door of your apartment. And now he even had a copy of the keys.

It wasn't bad to have someone, but even though your feelings for him were clear, everything else had stopped making sense to you.

A phone call you received the next morning was the last straw: your boss had fired you for not showing up to work the last few days.

But you didn't really care. Not anymore.

And as you absentmindedly listened to the ticking of the clock, you heard the one sound you were not expecting at that moment.

It was the very distinctive sound of the lock on the front door, followed by footsteps that you immediately recognized.

You tried to get up, but with your hands slippery from the blood and your form trembling, you fell back down: the loud thud immediately alarmed König, which made him hurry to the source of the sound.

That's where he found you, lying on the bathroom floor with your arms covered in blood.

You almost didn't feel his hands lift you from the floor and bring you to your feet, even though you put all your weight on him.

He doesn't speak when he washes and cleans your wounds, nor when he wraps them up: his gaze is fixed only on you, he doesn't even care that he has his uniform or plates or even his knives with him.

He makes you walk slowly to the bedroom, makes you sit on the edge, crouches in front of you and between your legs: you can clearly see his worried eyes and on the verge of crying, which makes your heart sink. It happened that you saw him in the middle of an anxious moment, but he never cried in front of you.

He takes your hands in his big ones, wrapping them in a comfortable grip. "Liebling?"

"Hey..." you try to say, even though you have no more words: you never expected him to discover your secret.

"Since when?" he asks, trying to pull you out of the deep abyss your mind has been sinking into for so long.

"Years..." you sniffled, realizing that you were crying. And feeling an emotion for the first time in a long time.

"I was bullied at school... even insulted by a teacher. I can't even remember the reason," a sad smile appeared on your face, memories of those years flashing through your mind.

You heard him sigh and let go the grip in one of your hands to remove his helmet and hood: you had seen his face many times before, but you could never really get used to it: his blue eyes stood out against his black hair, which had grown a little longer than usual, with a hint of stubble on his chin and along his jawline.

"It's not easy to talk about," he begins, looking at you intently. "I... was bullied when I was a kid. And it didn't stop when I joined the military." He laughs slightly, trying to break the tension in the room.

"Why did they..." you tried to ask, afraid to invade his privacy.

"I wanted to be a sniper - it turned out I was too tall, and I can't sit still even when I eat." His smile is contagious, and you find yourself giggling along with him. In fact, you remember a time when the two of you were eating Chinese food in your apartment: he was changing positions every five minutes, whether it was his legs or his posture.

The room was silent again, and you looked into each other's eyes: you felt lightheaded, but you didn't know if it was from the cuts or from the fact that König was watching you from underneath, or both.

"I came here to stay," he says, his hands reaching up to your face, completely covering it, making your face completely flush. "I'm not going to leave you again until you feel better. I don't care if you wake me up in the middle of the night because you feel the need to hurt yourself again, or if you want to go for a walk at four in the morning. You are not just " someone" to me." König feels like a flood as he admits the words in front of you, unable to stop as he watches your eyes tear up again.

"I want to be with you and for you. I want to protect you and..."

You don't let him continue, throwing your arms on his shoulders, hugging him, letting his scent envelop you completely, his big body swallowing your small one. You both let out a relieved cry, holding each other as you sit on the floor of your room, letting everything you had buried come to the surface.

Even though you don't know how long you both stayed in that position, his arms and his voice lulled you to sleep, repeating the same words in your ear over and over again.

"Ich bin dein.." *

* I am yours.

[cozage]

Made for Two

A/N: This might be the last part of Made for Two?? Idk let me know what you guys think (you are allowed to send me feedback or requests for more of this fic only right now)

Characters: gn reader x Sanji

Cw: usual angst, some slightly possessive themes and fighting going on

Total word count: 5.5k

Part One | Masterlist

Dance for Two

The first thing you noticed was the heat. It was stifling, and you threw your covers off of you to get some relief. A stark contrast to the bone chilling cold you felt last night.

A body stirred beside you, and you looked over to find Sanji rubbing sleep from his eyes. He sat up, still half asleep, and his eyes scanned your room. 

Sanji’s voice was groggy when he spoke. “We must’ve left the winter climate last night. Franky needs to get the heating and cooling system fixed soon.” 

Your eyes were trying to look anywhere but at the man next to you. He must’ve gotten hot in the night and thrown his shirt off. He appeared unfazed by his current position, but you were painfully aware of the lack of clothing he had around his torso at the moment. 

You had seen Sanji shirtless several times, and you had never thought twice about it. But you had been with Zoro then. And Sanji hadn’t been in your bed. He had never been so close.

Now though, you were trying your best to ignore that fact and how much it was affecting you in this moment. 

“Are you hungry?” Sanji asked, and your eyes finally looked over at him. 

You nod, forcing yourself to maintain eye contact with him, even though you desperately wanted to let your eyes linger downward over his body. 

He smiled, unaware of your thoughts, and got up from the bed, heading towards the door. “Let’s both change into something more comfortable with the weather, and I’ll be back to get you.” 

He left you alone, and you sat there for a few moments trying to process it all. He had been so casual about the whole encounter, it made you wonder if you were missing something. But you couldn’t think of anything, so you decided to push it to the side for now. You got up, trading your sweatshirt and pants for a tanktop and shorts. 

You opened your door to find that Sanji had also opted for a casual shirt and shorts as well. As you left the cabin area, you found the sun had also just started its day, and you stood to watch its brilliant colors paint the sky. Even though the sun wasn’t fully up yet, the humidity was high and the heat was sweltering. At least it wasn’t just your room that was stuffy, but it was the whole damn ocean. 

“It’s going to be a boiling day,” you noted, looking at the horizon. 

“Not a good day for macaron making,” Sanji said, frowning. 

“What do you mean?” 

Sanji walked over to the railing and leaned against it, watching the sunrise. You followed suit, standing next to him. 

“Macarons need a very specific atmosphere in order to cook. If the temperature or humidity is too high or too low, they won’t set right. It’s all about finding the perfect middle.” He smiled at you, shrugging at the unfortunate event. “We’ll have to find something else to do today.”

You smiled politely, but your mind was racing. You hadn’t expected Sanji to actually make desserts with you, or even hang out with you at all. You thought about how you had spent the last four days, and how you were just planning to do it again. The only person you really wanted to be around right now was Sanji, and a small piece of you was afraid he’d get sick of you if you stuck around for too long. 

“Any ideas?” You kept your eyes on the horizon, watching the sky and sea begin to come alive with color. 

“Whatever you want.” His voice was so kind and welcoming, you wanted to believe him.

It was responses like that when you were reminded just how different Sanji and Zoro were. Zoro would simply grunt at your requests to spend time together, offering to let you be his spotter while he trained. Zoro was silent and dark, but Sanji was the combination of a million colors and emotions. Zoro was unreadable, but Sanji was always speaking his mind. If Zoro was the night, then Sanji was the sun, bringing the dawn of a new day.

Sanji must’ve noticed you lost in thought, but he let you sit with them while you watched the sunrise in silence. When the sky of pinks and reds melted away and turned into the soft blue you were familiar with, you bumped against him. It looked like he was lost in thoughts of his own, and you wanted to bring him back to the present. 

“Breakfast?” you asked, smiling up at him. He beamed back and offered you his arm, leading you to the kitchen. 

“Are you hungry for anything in particular?” He asks, pulling a chair out for you to sit in. 

You hum, thinking for a moment. “A yogurt parfait?” 

He grins and nods, heading over to the fridge to gather the ingredients. “Fruit? Granola?”

“Both please! And honey too, if we have it.”

“If we have it,” Sanji scoffs. “You mock me as a chef. Of course we have it!”

You giggle at his upset, and watch him quickly whip up two parfaits with mixed berries and granola. He drizzles honey on them both, and walks over to the table to place them both down. 

You take a bite, and delightful flavors fill your mouth. “Do you know when we’re supposed to reach another island?” 

“Why? Is something wrong?” He asked, glancing between you and the parfait in a concerned manner.

“No, no,” you reassure him. “The food is delicious! I was just thinking how nice it’ll be to get off the ship and go do something, you know?”

“Ah, I see.” His body relaxes back, relieved it wasn’t anything serious. “I hope it's a warm island.”

“Me too,” you say dreamily. “Heat like this is only enjoyable when you’re at the beach.”

Sanji looks at you, a shocked expression on his face. “You like the beach?”

You nod, taking another spoonful of yogurt. “Love it,” you say in between bites. “Those islands where nobody else lives, and it’s just a small little beach and a jungle are the best.”

Sanji nodded, still watching you with intrigue. “What do you like about it?”

“Beach volleyball, laying in the sun,” you take another bite of your breakfast. “Oh! And I love your barbeque days, especially when you barbeque the fresh fruit we find on the island and when we fish and cook it over the fire!”

Sanji couldn’t remember you doing any of those things in his recent memories, but he didn’t comment on that. Most of the time you sat in the shade with Zoro and kept to yourselves. Sanji prided himself in being in tune with the crew’s likes and dislikes, but he would’ve put money on you hating the beach days that you just described. 

“Maybe we’ll get lucky, then,” Sanji said hopefully. “And we’ll find a beach nearby.”

Unfortunately, Nami later reported that luck was against you. There wasn’t another island for at least another two days. 

You sighed and walked up to the library, trying to ignore the blasting music radiating from the crow’s nest. 

“Got any recommendations?” You asked Robin, who was sitting at the desk. 

“Oh! Y/N,” Robin said, sounding surprised to see you. “A book?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Not much else to do on a day like today, you know?”

She chuckled lightly, and picked a book out of a pile. “This is a pretty good one. I’d read it again.”

You reach out and grab the book from her. It was romance, but Robin recommended it, so you decided to give it a shot. “Thanks!” You turned around and left the way you came, bounding back down to the kitchen to rejoin Sanji. Now that you had something of your own to do, you wanted to keep Sanji some silent company while he worked. 

The morning came and went, you sitting at the table engrossed in your book while Sanji cooked breakfast for the crew in shifts as they woke up. Every time someone came through the door, you looked up and smiled at them. You tried to ignore the look of surprise that flashed across each person’s face when they saw you, but you understood why. You had to admit you were dreading having to see Zoro after your last breakfast encounter, and it was bold of you to sit somewhere you knew he would eventually end up. You weren’t even sure why you were sitting in a place where you were sure to see him, but you didn’t feel as scared with Sanji nearby.

But you never had to worry about it, because Zoro never showed up for breakfast. 

When the last member had come and gone from the kitchen, Sanji started cleaning up, and you got up to start helping him. 

“Nope!” Sanji says, grabbing your hands as you reach for some dishes. 

You groan. Sanji was so chivalrous, sometimes it was annoying. “Please let me help, Sanji. Then we can both enjoy our free time.”

Sanji shakes his head to refuse your help again, and you know you won’t win this battle. Him letting you help last night was an outlier situation, and it would probably never happen again. You returned to your seat and reopened your book. 

“Why don’t you go lay out on the deck? Get some sun.” Sanji offered, starting to scrub at the dishes. 

“No thanks,” you say, finding your spot where you left off. “I prefer being with you.”

Your cheeks redden at the sentence that slipped out of your mouth, and you can see him freeze in the corner of your eye. He opened his mouth to say something but no words came out, so he shut it and turned back to the dishes. 

You couldn’t focus on your book after that. You tried, but your eyes kept drifting over to Sanji, watching him at the sink. Your eyes lingered on him, completely in his own world while he cleaned. 

Nami barged into the kitchen, interrupting your thought process. Thankfully she was too frustrated to notice your eyes on the cook. 

“It’s going to rain!” She huffed, collapsing into the booth across from you. 

“Really?” you asked, looking at the window. “Where’s it coming from?”

“Starboard bow. Probably about 20 minutes from now.”

You didn’t see anything, but you knew Nami wasn’t wrong about these things. “How long will it last?”

Nami groaned, flopping backwards onto the seat. “All day! And Chopper and Franky just got the pool set up! It’s not fair!”

You laugh at that and close your book, standing to your feet. “I think I’m going to go watch the storm roll in. Want to come?”

Nami rolled her eyes. “And be reminded of my ruined sunny day? No thanks.”

You exit out of the kitchen, throwing one last look at Sanji before you leave. You catch his eye, and he smiles at you. Your heart skips a beat involuntarily. 

You can’t stop the question before it’s out. “Come join me when you’re done, Sanji?”

“Of course.”

You walked onto the deck, and looked towards the starboard bow, like Nami had said. There were clouds gathering in the horizon, and you assumed that would turn into a storm, so you walked over and leaned against the railing to watch. 

A shadow cast over you. “Super great to see you out and about, kiddo!”

You turned to find Franky, and you smiled at him. “Hey Franky. How have you been?”

“I'm not going to lie, pretty busy.” He leaned against the railing next to you. “Between the heating and cooling issues and other projects, I’ve got my hands full. But how are you?”

“Okay,” you said. It was the typical response you gave, and every time you said it, it started to feel a little more true. 

“Super!” Franky yelled, patting you on the back just a tad too hard. “Listen I gotta run, but I’m glad you’re doing good. If you ever need to get your hands dirty and your mind clear, come let me know, okay?”

You laugh lightly and nod at his offer. “Thanks Franky. That means a lot.”

“Anytime!” And then you’re alone again. 

You notice a lot more standing on the deck by yourself. You can hear Chopper’s and Luffy’s shouts and splashes from their makeshift pool, and the soft bass of the music from the crow’s nest is mostly overshadowed by Brook’s violin. It’s lively, but there’s comfort in it all. You don’t feel as alone, listening to the sounds of your crew. But you still feel tense, like something is missing. 

The soft clicking of shoes on wood melts the tension away, and you glance in the direction of the sound to find eyes as blue as the sky. 

“Hey,” you say, a smile forming on your lips as you see him. 

He mirrors your grin, and comes to stand next to you, looking out over the horizon. The clouds in the distance have grown closer and darker, and you can feel the excitement growing in your stomach. 

“Do you like storms?” Sanji asks, looking out at the clouds. 

“I love them.” Your eyes stay on the storm. You can start to see sheets of rain pouring across the ocean, getting closer by the second. “There’s something comforting about them. It’s like they cleanse everything and give it a fresh start.”

Sanji lights a cigarette next to you and takes a long inhale, and then blows it out. “A fresh start, huh? I like that.”

“Do you like them?”

He shrugged. “I normally don’t mind them, but the really bad ones remind me of when I was a kid and got stranded on a desert island. It’s usually fine, but they always give me a bit of anxiety.”

In a move of boldness, you lean over and rest your head on his shoulder. At first you can feel him stiffen and you think you’ve misinterpreted the situation, but then he relaxes and you do too. 

You watch the rain grow closer, slowly lessening the visibility by the rain. 

“You ready?” you ask, watching the rain approach at a fast pace. 

“You sure you want to be outside for this?” Sanji said, looking at you with a bit of weariness. 

You felt a big raindrop hit your arm, and soon after hundreds joined it in coating your skin with water. The sound of rain smacking against the wood becomes deafening, pierced only by the slight cries of Chopper and the gleeful shouts of Luffy, who both rush inside. You breathe out a sigh of relief, letting the rain wash away your pain and sorrow. 

You pull away from Sanji and spin in a circle with your eyes closed, swaying lightly in the breeze by yourself. You feel a hand grab yours, and you open your eyes to see Sanji trying to speak to you, but you can’t hear any words over the rain. 

You lean in close to him and yell as loud as you can. “What?” 

“Will you dance with me?” He shouts back, and you wrap your arms around his neck.

His arms wrap around your waist, and you lay your head on his chest. You all stand there for a long while, just swaying in each other's arms. Finally the rain starts to lighten up a tad, and you can hear a song being played on the violin. You both turn to look, and you find Brook under the tree, serenading you into a dance. 

Sanji picks up the pace a bit to match the tempo and readjusts your grip so you are doing more of a ballroom waltz than simple swaying. You’re a bit clumsy on your feet, but Sanji leads you confidently, spinning and dipping you with perfect elegance. The whole thing made you feel equally silly and giddy. 

“I didn’t know you could dance!” You shout over the music and the rain. 

“I’m not very good at most of them,” he admits. “But I like the dances that are made for two.”

“Not very good?” You scoff. “Sanji, you’re amazing!”

“Well, I-” A bolt of lightning strikes near the ship, and you yelp in surprise. You can feel Sanji’s grip tighten on you for a moment as he looks around. 

“That's enough of that!” Brook yells, running to the door of the interior of the ship. 

“Hey!” Nami opened a door to scream at the two of you. “The storm’s getting bad! Get inside!”

You pull Sanji along with you, laughing as you dance to the door. You all dance down the hallway to the aquarium, stopping occasionally for Sanji to dip or spin you around. The music is long gone, but neither of you seem to notice. 

You dance a lap around the aquarium, leaving a trail of dripping water as you go. You’re about to make a second lap around when you slip on a puddle, and Sanji catches you before you face plant onto the floor. 

“I’m going to go get us some towels,” he said, looking at you and then the floor. “And…maybe a mop.”

You giggle at that, still high with adrenaline and giddiness from dancing in the rain. “Hurry back, okay?”

He bows as he exits through the door, and you find yourself staring at it after he’s gone, waiting for him to come back. 

“Didn’t know the cook fancied sloppy seconds.” 

The dark voice came from behind you in the aquarium, causing your breath to catch in your throat. Your hands clenched into fists, but you refused to give Zoro the satisfaction of answering him. Answering him would just lead to an argument, which is exactly what he wanted. You stayed there, facing away from him and staring at the door, willing Sanji to come back. 

“Tell me, Y/N,” the swordsman said your name like poison, and you flinched at the sharpness of his words. “Why do you think that man is being so nice to you?”

You hear Zoro get up, the sound of his boots echoing throughout the aquarium as he approaches you. The hair on your neck tingled, but you attributed that to the cold rain instead of the man behind you. You bit your lip to keep yourself from crying, eyes still glued to the door. Sanji would be back any second, and you wouldn’t be alone.

“I can tell you why,” he whispered in your ear, and you flinched again at his sudden closeness.

He walked around to face you, staring at you in the eyes. It was hard to look at him. There were so many conflicted emotions you held connected to his face. But you refused to be the one to break eye contact, and you could feel the daggers he was staring into your soul. 

“It’s because that love cook wants to fuck you.”

He was just saying it to get you to react in some way. You were certain. You stared back at him, doing your best to show no emotion. You must’ve been successful, because he pressed further. 

“I figured you’d be dumb enough to fall for it, of course,” he said with a devilish smirk on his face. His voice was low and threatening, like a predator who was about to pounce on his prey. 

“But you couldn’t even wait until we arrived at the next island before you hopped on his dick, could you?”

Zoro was cruel and manipulative. You knew that, which is why you were so mad that it worked. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, and you tried desperately to blink them away. 

“It’s not like that,” you say, shaking your head. You can feel tears leak out onto your cheeks. 

Zoro laughed at you, and all you want to do is run away and hide. “It is like that, and that's why you’re crying. ‘My love,’” he mocks Sanji. “‘Anything for you!’”

He returns back to his usual, harsh voice and leans in close to you. He’s so close that you can smell the sake on his breath when he speaks. 

“More like anything for what’s in your pants.”

Your hand connects with his face before you realize what you’re doing, and a loud, sharp sound echoes through the room. Both of you stand there staring at each other, stunned for a moment. You can’t believe you got a hit on Roronoa Zoro, and you wonder if he was too busy taunting you to see it coming or if he let you slap him on purpose to start an argument. 

“Get. Out.” you growl, pushing on his chest. He doesn’t budge. He’s just standing and staring at you, one side of his face starting to grow red. 

“Get out!” you shriek, pushing his chest, and then resorting to punching it when that doesn’t work. “I’m not doing this anymore, Zoro! I’m done! Get out!” 

You see his facial expression change slightly, and he steps out of range from your swings. But you step toward him, trying to push him toward the door. He stumbled backwards for a moment, not expecting you to continue your assault, before he regained his footing. 

“That cook doesn’t love you,” he spat out.

“I never asked him to!” You scream back. 

You had given him what he wanted. You had fought back. You push him again, trying to get him away from you. But he’s expecting it this time, and he grabs your wrists and pulls you close to him. His face is only centimeters away from yours, and you curse your heart for fluttering in your chest.

“Calm down,” he whispered, his eyes fixated on your lips. 

You knew what was coming. This was the duality of Roronoa Zoro. Screaming matches one moment, tender and caring the next. He loved to get you riled up one second just so he could calm you down the next.

And you almost fell for it again. Almost. But as his head dipped down to meet yours, you thought of the cold dark nights alone in your room, his hostile glares and comments from the day before. You thought of the warm string of lights that were now illuminating the once dark space, the sunrise and dancing. 

His lips met yours for only a second before you pulled away from him and shoved your palms hard into his chest, pushing him away from you. 

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, trying to get the taste of him off your lips. You let out a shaky breath and glared at him. 

You hated him, and you hated how inferior he made you feel. But you really hated that a small part of you wanted to curl back into him and let him hold you, like nothing happened.

“I said get out.” You put all of your anger and hatred into your words, willing yourself to stand your ground. 

He stared at you, half bewildered and half amused. This was uncharted territory for him. Normally you fell back into his touch, desperate and eager for more of his love. But today, you stood there with defiance in your eyes. 

“You’ll see.” He chuckled lightly to himself. “He’s gotten you wrapped around his finger now, but you’ll see, darling,” he raised his pitch to imitate Sanji on the last word.  “He’ll get bored of you, and he’ll leave you, and you’ll be alone again. And nobody will come to save you this time.”

Satisfied with having the last word, Zoro turned on his heels and walked out the door. 

Once the door slammed shut behind him, you fell to your knees. Your hands flew up to your mouth to stifle a sob. 

Sanji wasn’t manipulative like Zoro. He was kind, and sweet, and he made you your favorite meal even when you had barely ever spoken to him just to see you smile. He wasn’t doing all of this just to get laid, was he?

Your mind drifted back to yesterday morning, at breakfast with Nami. 

“I heard he didn’t go back to the boys cabin last night. You’ve been around Sanji almost as long as I have, and you really think its-”

Even the navigator seemed to think Sanji had an ultimatum for his kindness. Your heart ached at the thought of you being used like that, and you clutched at your chest in pain. You didn’t know what to do or who to believe. You wanted to run away, restart the day, or just go back to when you and Zoro first broke up and beg for his forgiveness. Everything was so much more complicated now that you had Sanji beside you. 

“Sorry I took so long! It took me a while to find the-” You hear things clatter to the floor and the click of Sanji shoes rushing over to you. 

“What happened?” He asked, kneeling down next to you. He hand presses against your forehead and you pull away from him, still covering your eyes. “Are you sick? Do I need to go get Chopper?”

“Just leave me alone,” you sob. “I just want to be alone.”

“It’s okay, my love. Talk-” 

You’re reminded of Zoro and how he mocked Sanji, and rage flares up in you. “Go away!” you scream, tears thick in your voice. “Get out!”

Sanji sighs, and you hear him stand to his feet. You hear him start to walk away from you, and your heart constricts. You know you told him to go, but you don’t want him to. And you’re too cowardly to beg him to stay now. 

You can hear him reach the far side of the room, and he pauses for a moment, then he begins walking back to you. You start wiping your eyes, and you feel a soft cloth wrap around your shoulders. Your eyes open to find his sky blue eyes staring back at you, holding a towel around you. 

He looks at you nervously, like he’s waiting for you to scream again. But you just sit there, wrapped in a towel. The only sound is the occasional drip of water from your clothes. 

“Please don’t leave me,” you whisper to him, your voice breaking. 

“I won’t, I won’t,” he coos, trying to soothe you. He wipes the tears from your cheeks and pushes the hair away from your face, keeping his eyes on you the whole time. 

“I hate him.” You can’t bring yourself to say Zoro’s name, but Sanji knows what you mean. 

“Did you see him?” He asks, looking around the room.

You nod, tears starting to form in your eyes again. 

“What did he say?” Sanji’s voice is calm, but you can feel the anger radiating from his body. 

You just shake your head, not wanting to respond. You lean forward, pressing your head against his rain-soaked shirt. He lets you rest there, stroking your wet hair absentmindedly while you work to steady your breathing. You inhale the familiar smell of cigarette smoke and slowly calm down, finding yourself drifting off to sleep. 

You’re not sure how much time has passed when your eyes reopen, but you’re in your room, wrapped in blankets. You can still hear the rain falling outside, and you sit up to assess yourself and your surroundings. You’re still in wet clothes, and you quickly strip them and replace them with new ones. Your fairy lights are on, but there’s no other indication of someone in your room.

You exit your room into the main cabin area, and head towards the deck, but raised voices stop you before you leave. You stand near the door, listening. 

“I don’t give a damn about your feelings!” Sanji’s voice yells from outside, muffled by the rain still falling.

“No shit!” Zoro screamed back. “You’re so far up Y/N’s ass you can’t see anything else!”

“You don’t know anything about me, mosshead, so stay out of it!”

“I know you took what wasn’t yours, cook.” Zoro’s voice turns into a growl, and you struggle to hear his words. “Y/N belongs to me.”

Sanji chuckled at the swordsman’s words. “Y/N doesn’t belong to anyone, idiot.” You hear his shoes coming closer to the door, until he stops on the other side. “The fact that you don’t get that proves you don’t know anything at all.”

“I know more about Y/N than you’ll ever know,” Zoro shot back, and you could feel a knot forming in your stomach. “You can’t compete. I know the best positions to make-”

“Piss off!” Sanji yelled, slamming into the swinging door in front of you wide open. His mouth falls open when he sees your figure in front of him, and the lit cigarette falls from his lips. 

You turn on your heels and dart back to your room, but Sanji’s quick to follow you. 

“Y/N-” He trails after you into your room. 

You spun around to face him, glaring at him. “Why are you being nice to me?” you demand. 

He froze, confused at your sudden hostility. “I don’t understand.”

“You’re out there defending me, making me food, being so nice to me…why?!”

“Because,” Sanji hesitates, his eyes scanning the room nervously. “Because I…”

It didn’t add up, Sanji never took any special interest in you before. He was always kind and cordial, bringing you food and making your favorite snack. And he just treated you better because he wanted to piss Zoro off. But now you were broken up, and there was no reason to keep up the act after you and Zoro broke up. Unless what Zoro said was true. 

You’re sure you’ve got him. Sanji can’t lie to you. So you ask him point blank. “Are you just trying to fuck me?”

“What?” He takes a step back, alarmed with your bluntness. “What are you even saying?”

“Just answer the question!” You don’t care if he thinks you’re crazy. Maybe you are.  

Sanji clicked his tongue and pulled out a cigarette. “That swordsman is in your head,” he said, putting it to his lips. 

You resist the urge to grab him and shake him. You knew he was avoiding giving an answer. 

“So you are,” you say, your voice trembling. “You’re just doing this for-”

“You love to watch the sunrise,” Sanji said, rushing to cut you off. “The sunsets too, but you only did that with mosshead, so it’s painful to see it now. You like barbequed fruit and rainstorms and you don’t really enjoy romance novels but you’ll read them if Robin recommends them. You prefer the quiet moments and the soft, fluffy desserts and you love your crewmates.”

Sanji paused for a moment and stepped forward, reaching for your hands to hold. You let him take them, and he interlocks his fingers with yours. You watch his hands, intertwined with yours, and you like how nicely they fit together. You feel calmer now, all of the anger inside of you suddenly feels small and unimportant. 

“I’m doing all of this because I think you deserve it. You deserve to be treated well. You deserve to have someone who lays with you while you sleep. Who watches the sunsets with you. Who dances in the rain. I just want you to feel important, okay? So if you’re not feeling that way, tell me and I promise I’ll find a different way to show my love for you”

“Your love…” you swallow the lump caught in your throat. “For me?”

His cheeks turn red, and you can see his nervous energy reach a new level. He fidgets with your fingers, and you can feel his hands start to get clammy. He doesn’t speak for a while, and your eyes glance up to his, but he’s watching your hands as well. 

“Sanji?” you prompt, peering up at him through your lashes. 

“It’s nothing,” he whispered, and he pulled you closer to him. His face is only centimeters away from yours, and you can feel your heart fluttering in your chest.

You thought you knew what was coming, and you tensed in suspense, ready to pull away at any moment. 

“Do you want to dance?” he said, the smell of tobacco rolling off his tongue with each word. 

You nod in response and lean against his chest. You both gently sway to a beat that doesn’t exist, and you can’t help but feel more at peace now than you ever have in your entire life. 

[beom1e]

ephemeral twenty three | stilled

genre angst, a pinch of fluff. warning anxiety, toxic mindset, self-deprecation. playlist ml. wc 1.37k.

prev | masterlist

this wasn’t going to work out.

everyone else continued to move. it felt like you were standing in the middle of the street as people passed you by at an impossible speed. but you could only stand still, and stare blankly at the sight ahead of you.

beomgyu hadn’t given up yet. he’d waited for you to be ready, and appeared at your door with open arms. nobody had ever hugged you that tightly, nobody had ever held onto you like you were about to slip away before. it was silent and painful. his fingers dug into your skin as he fought off his tears, and you didn’t dare to speak in fear that you’d fall apart. as dramatic as it seemed, both of you were aware of the reality, and how the growing distance between you would only have a negative impact on your relationship.

you talked occasionally. you tried to look him in the eye and believe him when he told he loved you. you couldn’t.

weeks began to pass.

the final term came to an end. for the meantime, you began job hunting in order to pay your rent.

you passed beomgyu in the building regularly. his smile began to fade when he came to the realisation that you really were slipping away from him. he started off trying to talk with you, then watered it down to a civil smile, and then he was silent, and not even his eyes made his way over to you.

you were ruining it.

much like the day that the truth came out, you pulled your knees flush against your chest and cried into your arms. this time, with your back against your headboard.

you weren’t even angry anymore — as much as it pained you — you just missed him. you missed his scent, his presence, his voice, his touch, his laugh, his smile, him.

the tears began to soak through the sleeve of your sweatshirt.

you sniffled, lifted your head, and grabbed your phone. you scrolled to the letter g and began to call, half wishing he wouldn’t pick up. there was comfort in being stilled and heartbroken, as terrible as it made you sound. it had been all you had known for three years before beomgyu came into your life, and the feeling was wonderfully familiar.

‘hello?’ he had just woken up.

‘beomgyu,’ you cried, voice hoarse. ‘i’m sorry.’

the call dropped, as did your phone shortly after. you’d truly messed up.

there was a loud, sharp knock that sent you flying out of bed and straight towards your entrance. when you pulled open the door, there stood beomgyu. you sobbed and threw your arms around him in a hug, letting the tears fall this time, onto the material of his shirt at three in the morning.

but this wasn’t going to work out.

nothing could beat your anxiety. as things began to go back to normal, your mindset never seemed to follow suit. he was around a lot more. he would come over for breakfast, spend the afternoon watching tv on the couch, kiss you goodbye before he left for work, and pick you up after your shifts. but you watched him warily, wondering if he was truly happy or simply trying to fix the heart that he’d broke.

‘are you serious, y/n?’ beomgyu was tired of hearing you ask him if he truly loved you. ‘would i really do all of this if i didn’t love you?’

‘but what’s the difference between trying to prove a point and actions that are sincere?’ you felt your eyes watering.

‘you don’t trust me,’ he commented, feeling defeated for what felt like the tenth time that week.

‘no, i don’t,’ you shot back.

‘how long is it going to take for you to realise that you’re hurting me?’ he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

‘you did this,’ you placed the blame. ‘you hurt me and you destroyed the trust that i had for you.’

‘can you stop?’ it made him feel sick.

‘i’m going to bed,’ you could feel the need to cry approaching. ‘goodnight, beomgyu.’

he thought you were being selfish and careless. he didn’t expect you to forgive and forget easily, but he hadn’t expected for you to turn spiteful. he could never do enough to make you happy, you would always be sitting there picking apart his behaviour and trying to make sense of it all.

but love doesn’t make sense. there doesn’t have to be a reason to love someone, it’s just instinct. you don’t need to have an explanation for why someone would be kind to you, you just have to accept it as reality. that was something you just couldn’t do anymore.

the friends you had made along the way contacted you frequently. that included the four boys dear to you that beomgyu thought of as home. there were no sides for them to choose from, because nobody knew what was going on.

all that they did know was that your relationship had simmered down on social media.

with your love of photography, you regularly uploaded photos you’d taken of beomgyu. you didn’t anymore. random videos usually made their way onto a story of some kind, showcasing sweet or humorous moments between the two of you. they didn’t anymore. when asked how you were doing by any of your friends, you used to answer for beomgyu too, because he was always around. but you didn’t anymore.

there could have been a simple explanation. due to your lives after university, you might have started spending less time together. but still, he was only across the hall.

beomgyu went out with his friends one night. you kissed him goodbye, and he was off. they met at a restaurant for a meal to catch up with each other, and beomgyu spilled the truth about your relationship. he skipped some major details and stated that you were taking a break, because he was planning to ask you for one as soon as he got home. he just couldn’t take the contrast of your loveliness and harshness anymore.

when he showed up at your door, you expected for him to brightly tell you about his night with his friends. instead, he avoided your eyes and walked over to the couch.

when he asked to take a break from your relationship, his hand had personally wrapped around your heart and squeezed it tightly. but in the end, you agreed to it. you knew it was your fault, because you were making a mountain out of a molehill. and beomgyu was so tired of beating himself up just trying to be good enough for you.

it had taken you three days to contact him after the party, and when he finally came over, you told him that you needed a little more time. when he attempted to keep talking with you, despite not having the luxury of being able to call or text you, you only shut him down. your responses were always short and blunt, and he began to give up for your sake. all he wanted was for you to be happy and comfortable around him again, so he gave you the time to process and became a stranger. so when you called him late that night, he jumped at the opportunity to be yours all over again.

but it was hellish. you hadn’t healed, and your brain was only hurting you with all of the nasty thoughts it conjured up. beomgyu’s excitement over having his girlfriend back fizzled out, and spending time with you began to feel like a chore.

but in the end, he put you first.

you needed to heal. maybe he wasn’t right for you, or maybe you weren’t right for him. either way, he couldn’t make you happy, and all he wanted was for you to be happy. so when he asked for the break, the main reason had been for you. if he couldn’t make you happy, he would simply disappear and let you forget about him and all of the pain that he brought.

and you both knew where the break was going, because this wasn’t going to work out.

eternal masterlist

taglist @heart2beom @txtbrainrot @fairyofshampgyu @forever-in-the-sky2 @bluebearybeom @simplygyuu @taekwondoes @ghostfacefricker6969 @wccycc @soobin-chois @yoongisus @meikyuukairou @goldennika @joti17 @yumilovesloona @baekberrie @chillfilms @arizzu @lost-leopard-beanie @makiswrld @gyu2304 @yeonyeonyeonjun @seodami @beowmgyu @catsyoon @harufluff @yenqa @xiaoderrrr @captivq @strawbrinkofdeath @spagettae @woncheecks @i814hue @dimplewonie @wonioml @jwnghyuns @cherryblossomsoobin @beomsitez @beomzgyu @isabelleonabicycle @eggeutarteuu @rikismiel @tae-ology @beeomgui @lqbeorecs @desiree62 @run2seob @amara-mars @run2min @breakmyheartlater

[blks16]

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[epiclamer]

I've never asked if anyone could write something before so sorry if...idk how I could mess this up but if anyone could it'll be me. 😌

You may have done this already but...What about a villian that is forced to commit crimes because of their parents, they have been told they have to hurt hero, they don't do it and get punished, hero finds them later?

Also I love your writting, you seem like a pretty cool person to be around 😎

Damnnnnn alright anon. This is good. And thank you!

Part 2 Part 3

Parental Pressure

The last thing Hero had expected on their late night walk to clear their cluttered mind was to run into Villain who seemed to be doing the same. It was too late for either of them to be out, but that hadn’t stopped the pair.

Villain stood, wide eyes and blinking at their nemesis, a large duffel bag slung over their shoulder and an oversized sweatshirt practically swallowed them whole. The criminal was young, younger than the other ones Hero had fought and it made them pathetically sympathetic.

Hero remembered being that kid. That kid who would do anything for a bit of praise. Thankfully, in order to get that praise Hero became a saviour, while Villain headed down the darker path.

“Villain. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Subconsciously, Hero’s hands drifted to where their handcuffs usually sat—a movement that did not go unnoticed on the other’s behalf.

The criminal took a step back, both hands bracing the bag that tilted themselves slightly to the left as if they were going to make a run for it. They looked fearful, nervous, bouncing on the balls of their feet as their jaw hung slack.

“Hm?”

Villain spluttered, taking another step away as they tried to come up with an explanation for their midnight stroll. “I-I… u-uh… well—”

Hero was patient with the younger one, the corners of their mouth tugging into a small smile. They couldn’t help but recognize themselves in the reflection of their eyes and demeanor.

It was all too familiar.

“I-I can’t be here.” The villain announced, turning on their heel and shuffling quickly down the sleeping street and away from Hero.

A sharp pain in Hero’s heart resonated throughout them, it was dumb, it was so insatiably dumb to feel this way for a kid, for a villain. But the hero just couldn’t help it.

“Hey, Villain!”

Rushing after the criminal, Hero stumbled slightly, mumbling something under their breath about the city needing to rework their sidewalks as they finally caught up. Placing one hand on the villains shoulder to halt them in their escape, Villain froze immediately.

“Hey, relax. I’m not going to arrest you, I just want to talk.” When the villain said nothing in return, still stuck like a statue, Hero further explained themselves. “Look, we haven’t gotten to know each other yet and honestly I’m not very fond of using strangers as punching bags. Walk with me?”

Villain still didn’t move, Hero’s hand sat comfortably on their shoulder as they tousled them slightly. The villain couldn’t help but flinch at that, whimpering just the tiniest bit under their breath that Hero was sure it was simply the sound of passing wind.

“S-So what? You prefer beating on t-the people you know and l-love?”

Hero chuckled, giving the other another soft pat on the shoulder, forcing the villain to pull away entirely as they winced. That seemed... wrong.

“Hah, that’s not what I meant. I’d just like to be something more along the lines of... frenemies? If that’s the right term, it’ll save you some jail time and beatings in the long run, promise.” Hero’s words were playful, but there was an edge this time, they were scanning. Watching the villain’s every move and looking for the inconsistencies in their behavior.

The hero counted one for the way Villains breath hitched when the hero mentioned a beating. The bag slung over their shoulder and the fear in their eyes was starting to solve a puzzle in Hero’s mind, but they were still missing a piece. So they pressed on.

“Thanks, b-but no thanks. I have to go. I-If you’ll excuse me--”

Hero reached out again, “Hold on.” but Villain was slippery. Maneuvering out of the crime-stoppers grasp and bolting down the street.

The hero looked down at the palm of their hand under the dim street lamp, it was softly tainted red, a colour that hadn’t been present before and suddenly Hero was racing after the villain. Chest heaving as they watched the small dark figure ahead of them dart in and between parked vehicles, if Villain decided to take a short-cut Hero would lose them in a second.

They needed to catch up and fast.

Villain continued through the city, searching for an opening, somewhere they could hide or escape their pursuer. But no opportunity presented itself. And with the slow bleeding and re-opening of the wounds across their body and the heavy bag weighing them down, Villain was starting to worry.

Fortunately, their worries were cut short. Unfortunately, it was because Hero had caught up as they slammed into the villain, knocking the air out of their lungs and their feet from the ground. Sending the pair flying as they rolled in a pile to the ground.

The villain screamed as their body crumpled to the floor, it was loud for a second and then silent as they bit into their fist. They couldn’t show weakness, not around Hero.

On the other hand, hero recovered quickly, bouncing up off the ground as they rushed to the villains side. Pinning their arms down as they both struggled to catch their breath, Villain shook like a leaf under their nemesis but that didn’t loosen Hero’s grip.

“Let me g-go!”

Hero glared at their enemy, consequently shutting them up and causing the beginning of tears to brim their eyes.

“You’re coming with me.” Villain opened their mouth to interject, but Hero continued. “And you better not try and bullshit your way out of this. You’re going to explain everything to me on the way back, and that includes why the fuck you are bleeding through your sweatshirt.”

Hero grappled the struggling Villain until they were comfortably stuck in their arms. Holding them tight until the villain yelped and pleaded for mercy.

“Understood?”

The villain had never nodded so fast in their entire life.

[bitchsister]

UHHHHMMMM YEAAAA SOOO U R NOT GONNA TELL ME LUCKYCHARMS CURT WENT THROUGH A CASUAL BY CHAPPELL ROAN PHASE WITH BUCKY AND EXPECT ME NOT TO DEMAND ANSWERS ABOUT THAT

Alright anon…. Fine

I’m totally working out of order with my requests but i promise, I’m chugging along!!

Shoutout to Crosby for being a good roommate and bestie!

This kinda hurt my heart!!!!! :)

Also Alex I know this was u that asked this. Coward

Six months — Curt felt sick with it. He’d check his phone religiously, hoping a new text would arrive from Bucky and when it wouldn’t, his mood would reflect just that.

He’d start fights at the skate park for no real reason, even swung his cue stick at an annoying forty-something who couldn’t find anything better to do than judge of game of pool between a group of drunken college kids who were only there to have fun.

He was then banned from the only bar within walking distance with a pool table.

He laid in his dorm room, staring at the bottom of Crosby’s bunk as he contemplated sending the text.

We need to talk

Delete, delete.

Can we talk?

Delete.

“Just send it.” Crosby rolled his eyes dramatically, hopping up into his bed and draping himself over the side to watch him type another text out and delete it. “You’re both adults. Dude’s acting like a fucking child.”

Curt sighed heavily, switching the cheek in which he sucked on his lollipop. “He’s a lawyer, Harry.” He rationed, though he knew it wasn’t a decent excuse for not hearing from him for six days. “He’s just busy, m’sure.”

The last time they were together, Curt spent the whole weekend and everything was so devastatingly romantic in a way he wouldn’t expect the same person that cooked him dinner, laid Curtis down and massaged his entire body, sat with him in an obnoxiously large bathtub with champagne, to go ghost for almost an entire week.

“He’s playing the field, Biddy.” Crosby stayed where he was, hanging upside down over their bunks to watch Curt type out yet another text. “Better to get this over with now rather than later.” He’d done his fair share of back and forths. “Situationship with a man ten years your senior?” He huffed. “It’ll put you in the ward — take it from me.”

He slung himself back into his own bed, yawning loudly before he continued. “Send it. Tell him what you want out of this.” He flicked the little lamp clipped to his headboard on, a book cracked open in his lap. “Or suffer in silence, ‘cause I can’t do this shit with you anymore.”

Curt nodded slowly, having no true rebuttal as he knew full well Harry was making decent points.

“Full send.” He mumbled, thumb smashing the little blue send button, his phone tossed up to Harry into his bunk. “I ain’t lookin’. Just tell me if he responds.” He hugged his folded arms over his eyes, a loud sigh deflating him.

Five minutes passed by but to Curt it had felt like an eternity.

“Damn,” Harry opened Curt’s phone, his passcode memorized from all the times he’d hijacked Curt’s Uber account to order them rides from the bars or to drain all of his credits on his TouchTunes. “Probably waiting by the phone like you were, Biddy.”

Curt peeked from behind his arms, his voice muffled. “What’d he say?”

“He said —“ Crosby turned on his side, squinting at the screen that was spiderwebbed with cracks. “I can pick you up. Question mark.”

Another groan rolled out of him as he sat up, his hands covered in the sleeves of his sweatshirt scrubbed over his face. “Say yes. Say — uh, say yes, I’d like that, or somethin’.”

He scrambled to yank his clothes off, scuttling around to find another outfit.

“Ah, no.” Crosby laughed as he shook his head, typing out a simple and to the point ‘Ok’ and hitting send. “Let’s remember who ghosted you for a week, please. Right now, you like nothing he does.” His gaze landed on Curt who stared up at him. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

Bucky pulled up outside of the south hall where Curt climbed into his car and picked at the cuts on his knuckles. “Hey.” He said simply, looking over at Bucky who looked exhausted but still just as beautiful, his hand reached over to rest over Curt’s left thigh.

“Hey.”

Their spot wasn’t far from campus - only about a two minute drive away was an overlook near the river where Bucky put his car into park, his body turning toward Curt to really look at him. “What’s up?” He asked, biting back a yawn. “Thought you’d be getting to bed by now.”

Curt shook his head slowly, his fingertips tracing the veins in Bucky’s hand. “I couldn’t sleep.” I’ve missed you for a whole week. “Thinkin’ about you.”

If it wasn’t so dark, Curt would have seen Bucky’s cheeks and how they’d been painted all rosy. “That right?” He hooked his hand around Curt’s and pulled him into his lap. “What about me?”

Curt felt Bucky’s hands slide beneath his shirt, palms pressed to the soft and warm skin there. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t lay his heart out on the line like that so instead he kissed his lips, fingers threaded through his sleepy waves that had been in bed already, his poor brain completely obliterated by the workday.

“Oh,” Bucky whispered, “missed that.”

Then why haven’t you spoken to me?

Where have you been?

Why did you go ghost for almost an entire week?

Curt bit his tongue, too high on getting what he’s daydreamed about since the last time he felt it to sour the moment by demanding answers.

It’d dawned on Bucky rather quickly that the way Curtis tasted would stay with him for ages.

Sweet, artificial cherry where in the background somewhere a joint smoked on the sidewalk as he waited for Bucky to pick him up left its mark.

Days would pass, and Bucky could still taste him.

Curtis lingered. He made an impression, slathered over the brains of anyone he crossed paths with.

Loud, little, an electric shock to the system.

Bucky licked into his mouth, sucked on his tongue, chased the taste of him into the back of his own throat. He behaved as if he wanted to devour him. Like he’d been starved just as badly as Curtis had been.

So, why hadn’t he just said something?

Why didn’t he ask to see him?

Why, why, why?

A surge of adrenaline had woken Bucky up, his hands guiding Curt to lie his belly over the center console, his ass in Bucky’s face as Curt giggled. “Said you wanted to talk,” he whispered, pulling the elastic waistband of Curt’s sweatpants below the supple curve of his ass. “Or did you just want this?”

Curt groaned softly into the leather seat he hid his face in, his thighs spread apart as Bucky got into position between them, his tongue licking big, fat stripes over Curt’s hole that missed him so desperately.

No one, absolutely no one did it for him the way Bucky did.

His hands, his lips, his hair, his mustache that Crosby said was so Dilfy. His teeth, his eyes, his voice and the way he called Curt baby once after a bottle of wine.

He held onto it.

He replayed it over and over in his mind.

Ride that cock, baby.

Baby.

Baby.

Oh, please, can I be your baby?

“I told you,” Curt whispered softly through a moan once Bucky really began to eat him up, his thighs shaking as he rut his ass into Bucky’s face. “I missed you so much.”

Barely there, hardly audible above the obscene sounds Bucky’s mouth had been making.

A loud crack of skin pierced his eardrums, his left asscheek stinging once Bucky had pulled away and spread him just to get a look and soak him all up. “You’re just perfect,” what are you doing with someone like me? “Let me take you home with me.” His voice was rough and yet so gentle when he pulled Curt back into his lap.

Face to face again.

“I got class in the morning.”

“I’ll drop you off.”

Curt cupped Bucky’s cheeks, nodding slowly as he huffed to catch his breath. “I can’t skip.” He shuffled back into the passenger seat, his sweatpants throw into the back with his underwear, his big sweater long enough to cover him if need be. “Need this final to pass.”

Bucky had thrown it into drive faster than ever, trying his best not to become too distracted by Curtis who leaned against the passenger side door and faced Bucky as he drove, his thighs lifted and his toes curled as he fucked himself with his fingers.

“Fuck.” I’m so in love with you. “You’re filthy.” You’re too good for me.

“You want me, don’t you?” Curt shivered with another moan that ripped right through him. “Want me so fucking bad. Look at you.” He extended his leg to toe over the bulge in Bucky’s own sweatpants, his favorite ones for sleeping, not for concealing a hard-on.

Bucky stayed silent, his lip between his teeth as he drove.

“Don’t you.” Curt urged, the sole of his foot pressed against Bucky’s erection.

“Mhmm.”

Not good enough.

“Then why ain’t you talked to me for a week?” Curt was stroking himself instead, saving the fucking for Bucky.

This isn’t how he expected to ask, but some sort of confidence had taken over.

“I - I was just busy.” Bucky turned to look at Curt, his brows furrowed as he wondered how they’d so quickly ended up here. “Work, Curt.”

“You couldn’t send me a single text?”

Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat, staring at the red light that taunted him. “I — it doesn’t mean I don’t wanna see you..”

“Then why haven’t you?”

“I told you. Work.”

Curt scrambled to his knees, leaned over the console but this time it was to get closer to Bucky’s face with his own. “Try again.” His sights narrowed and his lips tugged into an annoyed grimace. “Why haven’t you?”

Bucky sat silent for awhile, driving idly as they caught every red light under the sun. “Listen — I —“ he blinked a few times, trying to arrange his thoughts “What do you want out of this, Curt?”

Caught off guard, Curtis slowly backed away from Bucky and sat on his folded legs in the passenger seat, his expression morphing from everything to nothing. “What do I want out of this?”

“Yeah, I - I mean—“ Bucky stuttered. “What do you want out of this? Out of us? Do you see this going anywhere?”

Curt was unsure how to answer that, absolutely certain that what he said next could make or break everything but he didn’t quite care.

Was Bucky who he thought he was?

Why’d he bring Curt to his home, make him dinner and eat him out like he was dessert the first night they met if there wasn’t something between them?

“These things, Curt. They get easier with age, you know..”

He wanted to throw up.

In fact, he was certain he would.

He scrambled to pull his sweatpants back on, scrapping his underwear in Bucky’s backseat. “Fuck this.” He grumbled, tugging his shoes on that were thankfully already tied. “And fuck you.”

{ending this here. Curt definitely gets out and walks back to campus but Bucky follows him all the way back and begs for him to come back and talk. Curt absolutely does not}

[jayalover]

DATES ALPHABET; rhekker edition!

i just miss these guys so bad. here’s what (i believe) we could’ve had <3

A - Amusement Park / Arcade

the two go to Navy Pier one evening after work, during the winter when it's quiet, wanting the best games to themselves. coonor's desperate to show ava how to play all the games and all the crappy pier food from his childhood. however, ava surprises him with her hook-a-duck talents, to which he accuses her of cheating at (her response? "if you were a good surgeon, you'd understand.")

B - Biking / Brunch

they're both not big on brunch, so they only really go when claire and her husband invite them. they make sure to order very different options, just so they can steal from each other.

C - Candlelit Dinner / Cabin Getaway

100% on the candlelit dinner! connor books some fancy place in uptown chicago, just so he and ava can dress up for it. however, a last-minute surgery comes up and they have to cancel; to make up for it, ava snags a table on the hospital terrace, decorating it with candles. it may not be caviar and champagne, but some cafeteria food and just each other's company can make up for it.

D - Dinner Cruise / Drive-in Movie

they may not seem like the couple for a drive-in movie. ava forces connor to go, telling him it's "the only way i'll ever experience proper american culture!", to which he begrudgingly goes along with. let's just say that a lot more happens between them than just watching the movie..

E - Eiffel Tower / Escape Room

why wine and dine in chicago when you can do it on top of the eiffel tower? they both take furlough from work to go there for their second anniversary. it's a second take of one of their failed candlelit dinners, and it's better than either could imagine.

F - Football Game / Fireworks

when marcel hosts a 4th of july BBQ, they go together, hand in hand. it's the first time they've told their coworkers together, and whilst it doesn't come as a shock to some, they're all still supportive and excited. as the fireworks burst in the sky into pretty patterns, ava finds herself in connor's arms; everything is just perfect.

G - Gala / Glamping

gala dates happen quite often, mainly because of connor's social status. neither want to go, it's all for appearances. however, it is fun when they get home and get to rip each other's clothes off.

H - Hockey Match / Harvest festival

connor scores some pretty good tickets for his favourite team and decides to take ava. it's a decent game; of course it's great when your team wins, but what's even better is seeing your girlfriend in your sports sweatshirt.

I - Interior Design Expo / Italian Restaurant

when claire falls ill and is unable to attend an expo, the two take the invites from her. instead of taking it seriously and finding new retailer for D&R, they spend the day fantasising how they'd decorate a place they buy together.

J - Jacuzzi / Jogging

jaccuzis are a great way to relax, especially when your job is so stressful. although, connor does find it hard to relax when ava looks so good in her new bikini..

K - Kayaking / Kickboxing

when summer finally hits chicago, the two make a plan to go to the beach, where they go kayaking for the first time. neither are very good at it (both trying to be in control of where they go, which leads to their usual banter), but they do find some cool caves and crevices.

L - Lakeside Getaway / Live Music

when ava wins a trip away during a gala auction, they immediately take time off to go. it's only for the weekend, so they try and fill it with as many activities as possible. however, not a lot get done; it's mainly fishing, drinking, and of course, sex. but hey, who could want more?

M - Museum / Masquerade

Sometimes it's best just to spend quiet time with each other. he two walk around hand in hand, simply glad to be in each other's presence. it all makes a change from the business of Med.

N - Nightclub / Nine Pin Bowling

it starts off fun, but quickly escalates into a competition. there's no need for it - they just can't help but to bicker over who's the better bowler (spoiler; it's ava). maybe it's best not to go bowling when you're both so competitive..

O - Observatory / Orchestra Concert

it's another date they attend for the appearances, but they end up enjoying it more than they thought.

P - Picnic / Photoshoot

when the weather is good, they go for picnics in the park, stretched out on the blanket and enjoying being with each other, finally free from their stress of work.

Q - Quiz Night / Quiet Time

when molly's hosts a quiz night, connor and ava decided to team up with the coworkers. but what confuses everyone, though, is when they go on seperate teams - they tell their coworkers that they "don't want to scare you with our intelligence". everything goes well until the final round, when connor surprises ava with his knowledge on crappy reality shows.

R - Resort Weekend / Road Trip

it's a double date with claire and her husband, but it doesn't mean they have to spend every waking second with them. connor and ava go off to do their own thing, which includes a lot of typical couple activities.

S - Spa Day / Swimming

this ties into their resort weekend trip. it's a good day for them, finally feeling relief from the recent stressors at work. but it's hard to keep it PG-13 and not get caught.

T - Tiki Bar / Tango Lessons

this date happens as a re-do after ava misses connor's leaving party, but instead of celebrating someone moving on, they celebrate moving in together. it's gonna result in a massive hangovers the next day, but it's worth it.

U - Upscale Dining / Unplugged Date

sometimes it's better to just escape the real world (AKA electronics) and be with each other. whilst it could be reading or spending time with one another, they tend to lean towards coffee dates, just the two of them, not having to deal with their pagers going off or endless surgeries.

V - Valentines Day / Volunteer

valentine's days are the ones they go all out for; whilst they attempt to both have clear schedules, it never quite works out. so, it doesn't surprise ava when a bouquet of flowers turn up at work for her, or connor gets home to his apartment to find a new bottle of whiskey. it's the little things.

W - Woodworking / Weekend

weekends off from work are basically dates for them, and mean they can be as lazy as they want. sex in the morning, not getting up until midday, breakfast in bed. it's bliss for them.

X - eXcursions / eXpensive

of course it’s gonna be expensive! connor will go above and beyond to treat ava right up (which she loves). sometimes she’ll try and get the bill, but he always insists. neither are a stranger to expensive gifts either.

Y - Yacht Cruise / Yoga

for their third anniversary, they go on a cruise. but not just any cruise; connor rents one out so it’s just the two of them. it’s a great weekend away, even if neither of them are the best sailors (at least nobody dies!).

Z - Zoo / Zip Lining

they’re both animal lovers, so the Lincoln Park Zoo is sometimes a date. they both love reading the facts and seeing all the different animals. occasionally they’ll do the petting zoo; connor has his phone lock screen as a shot of ava holding a rabbit.

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taglist; @superstorefannnn @v1bri

comment if you want to be added to the list!

[hockeywriterrowan]

Our Café || Nico Hischier

Nico Hischier x Reader

Word Count: 891

Warnings: none

The soft hum of the music and the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans filled the air in the small, cozy café tucked into Hoboken. The café was a haven for many, including you, the owner. Its warm, dimly lit interior and comfortable leather chairs offered patrons a cozy retreat where they could either delve into their studies or simply bask in the moment.

You stood behind the practically brand-new espresso machine, fingers dancing along the chrome buttons. While you had only owned your coffee shop for two years, you had worked in a small college-town bakery all through your teenage years into getting your business degree. It was safe to say you were a master, your espresso-making ritual being a finely choreographed performance. As you locked the portafilter into the machine’s group head, the rich, earthy scent rose into the air.

You took a deep breath as you pressed the button, the machine roaring to life. Watching the deep brown liquid flow from the machine’s spouts was easy. As you watched the espresso shot fill the small cup, you smiled. Even though you had done it for years, every cup was like a mini accomplishment in your day. 

You saw Nico silently staring at you from his table as you looked up. He came every day. You served the man with adorable dimples every day. You made the shortest of conversations with Nico every day. Of course, throughout the winter, he would be gone for several days; those days made you realize how much he was a part of your routine. They made you realize Nico's importance to your life without ever having a genuine conversation with him.

But you knew he was at away games. You have been to a couple of Devils games since making Hoboken your permanent home two years ago when you opened your coffee shop. The first day he came to the café, the day of its opening (before you even had to hire employees), Nico came in. Since then, he had always come when most customers were at work.

You carefully placed the espresso on a small plate with a glass of ice water and pain au chocolat. You presented it to Nico’s table, “Hello! Here’s your espresso, Nico.”

“Thank you so much, Y/N.”

He took a moment to appreciate the look of the dark liquid. He looked up and smiled. Every time you saw him smile at you, your own lips would also turn slightly upward, just as they did the first day he came in. You gave a small smile back and returned to the counter.

As you cleaned around the counters, you thought about Nico. In the past two years, he had brought several of his teammates. It was clear how much he loved them. He would always pay for his teammates. When Jack was boisterously laughing, Nico would smile. You had never seen someone care for their friends as much as him.

—

As people came in after work, Nico left. Because your employees came in to start their shifts with the busier afternoons, your last job before leaving (with them to close up later) was to pick up tables. Nico’s table was the only one for you to worry about. As you picked up the small plate he had left behind, you noticed a small piece of paper.

“I know you’re only doing busy work. You should sit and chat with me tomorrow.”

He added a little smiley face at the end. You smiled, slipping the note into the back pocket of your jeans. 

As your shift ended, you kept smiling softly. You kept thinking about Nico’s smile. Thinking about his friendly mannerisms to a fan he once met before entering your café. Thinking about the way he kept his table always so neat.

You were excited about the prospect of being his friend.

— 

Nico walked in on Saturday wearing his usual sweatshirt and shorts, but his smile showed particularly bright that day.

“Hello, Nico!”

“Hello! One espresso, one vanilla latte, and two pain au chocolat, please!”

Your smile slightly faltered as you typed it in. Who else was he ordering for? Nico continued smiling and kept his eyes on you, and when you looked back up at him, you softly smiled back. 

As you started making the latte, you frowned. You thought that the note was Nico trying to get to know you. Did he have someone who he wanted you to meet? When you finished the latte to go and make the espresso, you saw Nico with his phone down and looking at you. His eyebrows were scrunched, but he shifted his eyes as soon as he noticed you looking back.

You finished the espresso, warmed up the pain au chocolat you made that morning, and walked out from behind the counter. He smiled at you, carrying the larger tray, setting down Nico’s usual on his side of the table and the other part of his order on the other side. 

You turned around with the tray, but before fully turning around, Nico spoke up, “Aren't you going to sit?”

“Oh,” you turned back around, finally realizing that Nico got the latte and pain au chocolat for you. 

Nico laughed but didn’t want to embarrass you, so he asked, “Why did you decide to open the café?"

[sleepy-writer84]

Tangerine

AKA a Kageyama x Hinata oneshot based off of the prompt "Person B buys Person A a special treat when they go out shopping" and the song Tangerine by Glass Animals

Tangerine. Tobio Kageyama was lost. He had never been to a festival before. The boy's volleyball club had an extra day in Tokyo after their practice match with Nekoma, so they all decided to head to a nearby event. It was a free day and as Ukai told them, they should take advantage of this time to build their bonds with one another. Stronger bonds meant stronger communication, which meant they would play better on the court. Kageyama knew this. However, as they all had sat around in the dining area that morning, discussing what they should do, the last thing he expected was Nishnoya, Tanaka, and Hinata to bring up a nearby festival that Kuro had told them about. The three were especially excitable at the concept of a city festival, even though technically they were still in the suburbs. Kageyama kept to himself as everyone agreed to attend the festival. Maybe if he would have attested, he wouldn’t be where he was right now. Maybe he could have convinced his fellow teammates to allow him to stay back at the inn. Maybe he could be practicing tossing right at this moment, instead of being swallowed up by a huge crowd. The moment they all stepped foot onto the fairgrounds, it was every man for himself. Everyone dispersed in excitement, breaking up into groups. Kageyama however was left behind, which led to him being all alone, gripping his hands in a tight fist as he tried not to allow himself to get overwhelmed. Taking a deep breath, Kageyama looks at the people around him, desperately searching for a familiar face. It isn’t until he feels a sharp tug on his cream-colored sweatshirt, does he turn his head downward, letting his tense shoulders fall as he sees the familiar mop of orange hair, the color reminiscent of a tangerine.

“Kageyama,” the smaller man starts to speak, “You look like you’re about to take a dump” he comments plainly. 

Kageyama grimaces at this, “I do not” he grumbles. 

“Yes, you do,” Hinata states simply, tugging on his sleeve again, “Come on let's go” he orders the taller man, practically dragging him through the crowd. 

Kageyama doesn’t protest. Even though it’s a bit embarrassing, he isn’t alone anymore, and he's grateful, something he would never tell Hinata. Kageyama lets the smaller man guide him through the crowd, his bright brown eyes widening at every booth they pass. He points at each one, gasping as he sees what they have to offer. Kageyama rolled his eyes at this, wondering why Hinata was letting himself get so worked up about such simple things. The energetic boy finally stops his zigzagging as they approach a booth that is offering stuffed animals as a prize. The shine in Hinata’s eyes is a familiar sight for Kageyama. It’s the look the redhead gets when he plays volleyball. It's determined, and if Kageyama knew any better, it’s a look that meant Hinata would win no matter what. Letting go of Kageyama, the shorter man digs in his pockets, finds some money, and offers it to the booth attendant. With a smirk, the booth attendant pockets the money and hands over a couple of small balls. The premise of the game seems simple, Kageyama thinks. Hit three targets and you get a small prize. Hit five targets and get a big prize. In total, you have ten chances to hit the targets, it didn’t seem unfair. He watches as Hinata makes a big scene, rolling his shoulders back and stretching his arms out in front of him. He then watches as Hinata misses every single toss. Kageyama snickers at this, watching as Hinata deflates. The booth attendant asks if Hinata wants to try again, but Hinata shrugs his shoulders, telling him he doesn’t have any more money. Of course, Hinata blew all his money on this stupid game, Kageyama thinks. If it was so stupid though, why did he find himself stepping up to the booth, digging in his own pockets, and paying for a turn himself. It was because he was competitive, is what he told himself. Even when he had made all 10 shots, and had chosen the prize that Hinata had his eyes trained on from the very start of this endeavor. 

With a bear plushie in his hands, Hinata does his best to keep ahold of the cream-colored sweatshirt of Kageyama’s and continues to drag him around the festival. The two run into some of their club members, but for the most part, the two are left to their own devices. Since the redhead did not have any more money, he seemed to stray away from the booths that required funds to participate. Instead, his brown orbs shined brightly as he took in the entire fairground, enjoying the sights and liveliness of it all. Kageyama tried to do the same, but it was all still too overwhelming for him. The best he could do was let his cold blue eyes focus on the curls of the short man in front of him, concentrating on the pressure of his hold on his sweatshirt to try and ground himself. It worked for the most part, but it still felt strange to him. Why couldn’t he enjoy this day like everyone else? Why did he always have to be so socially inept? Times like this made Kageyama insecure. Times like this made him want to be more energetic and happy like the man in front of him. But Kageyama knew this wasn’t possible. He and Hinata were two entirely different people, raised in two completely different environments. He could never be him, and Hinata could never be him. He knew that. But even though they were two separate people, Kageyama couldn’t help but feel like being with Hinata was comfortable. It was like a breath of fresh air, and it made situations like today more bearable. He was warm, like the sun, is what Kageyama concluded. Kageyama also concluded that the only reason he described Hinata like this was because of his untamed red hair, why else would he think of him so brightly?

The sun was starting to set, and Hinata was dragging Kageyama all the way back to the entrance of the festival. The day was eventful, to say the least. Not much was spoken between the two, but Kageyama did enjoy the company. It was a lot better than the alternative of being all alone today, overwhelmed and too in his head. As they were walking back, or more so as Hinata was tugging Kageyama behind him, a certain stand caught the eye of the black-haired male. It was a food stand, and the orange display is what had caused him to stop in his tracks, making Hinata fall back into his chest. Following his eyesight, Hinata smiles softly before turning his head upward, looking up at the male whom he still was backed into. 

“It’s a tangerine stand” Hinata explains, his eyes scanning over Kageyama’s features. 

“Like your hair” Kageyama states, not catching himself in time to stop the words that fell from his mouth. 

Hinata’s nose scrunches up at this, “Like my hair?” he giggles softly, reaching up to poke Kageyama’s chin, “You’re weird” he huffs out. His back still was pressed into Kageyama’s chest. The grip that he had on the man’s cream-colored sweatshirt hadn’t faltered even when he had stopped walking, so Kageyama’s arm was slightly resting on the smaller man's waist.  Kageyama scoffs at this, tilting his head down to look at Hinata. As they make eye contact, Hinata laughs, sticking his tongue out at him. This causes the blue-eyed man to roll his eyes. 

“Would you like one?” Kageyama asks him softly, his gaze moving back to the stand. The question surprises Hinata, causing him to stutter and blush a bit. 

“You already wasted money on this, it’s okay” Hinata responds, motioning to the bear in his hold. 

Kageyama tsks at this, “I don’t mind, would you like one?” he tries again. For some reason, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the orange color of the stand and the fruits it harbored. 

Smiling slightly, Hinata nods his head, slightly hitting the back of his head against Kageyama’s chest, “Sure”. 

Tangerines. As the two walked back to the entrance, meeting up with the rest of their club members, Kageyama couldn’t help but smile softly. He’s glad he had gone out with everyone today. He was even more glad to have the company of the man who was still persistent on tugging him every which way, even as they neared the end of their trip. Even when his hands were full, he still made sure to have a tight grasp on the cream-colored sweatshirt the black-haired man sported. Gazing down one last time at the curly mess of orange hair, Kageyama concludes that he really did like Tangerines. 

[amwritesitall]

Dating Rory Gilmore Would Include

This one is set during post-Chilton but a Chilton specific one would be really cute

Masterlist (doesn't currently work)

Warnings: n/a

-

Dating Rory Gilmore Would Include

You met at a coffee shop

Rory had books and papers piled around her at a table by herself

And of course, there was a giant mug of coffee at the table as well

The first time you see her there she catches your eye but you don't make a move

Then you start seeing her around campus all the time

So, the next time you go to your favorite coffee shop there she is in the same spot with her nose in a book

You go over to the barista and ask her for whatever your mystery girl got plus your own order

Then you take the drinks over to Rory and set hers in front of her

She looks up confused and then sees you

She's definitely nervous because she totally had noticed you around campus and thought you were cute

"Do you mind if I join you?"

"Oh," she says surprised, "No, not at all!"

So you sit and ask her about her book

Then from there the two of you talk and talk and talk

By the end of your time together, the two of you exchange numbers

Rory and you go on a date to the same coffee shop within the week

Then another and another

And before you know it, Rory is showing you her favorite book store

And you're inviting her over to your apartment

Movie nights with plenty of take out food

Or going out to try new restaraunts

Finally, it's time to meet the Lorelai Gilmore that you had heard so much about

You were nervous as hell that Lorelai wouldn't like you

However, Rory wasn't worried at all

She's already told Lorelai everything about you and Lorelai already thinks you're great

Lorelai of course loves you, greeting you with a warm smile and hug

You were officially a member of the family from now on

Lorelai will ask how you're doing everytime she talks to Rory

You're invited over anytime and you frequently come home with Rory on weekends

After dating for a few months, the time had come for you to meet Rory's grandparents

You knew it was only a matter of time but you were nervous as hell

You knew that they could be a bit critical and you wanted everything to be perfect

Dressing up in one of your best outfits

"Ooo we're breaking out this one huh?" Rory asks smiling at you when you pick her up

Hell you even bring Emily flowers

Emily is thoroughly impressed by this

Lorelai does pick on you before you all walk in about the flowers

But ultimately she loves how much you care for Rory and how much you want to make a good impression on her family

You're invited to all of the holiday festivities

Attending and participating in Stars Hollow traditions

Having your fair share of food from Luke's

Random road trips to go see bands you and Rory like or to just get away from the stress of school and life

Rory stealing your sweatshirts and sweaters

Many nights when you come home late from studying, work, etc. you find her curled up on the couch in one of your favorite sweatshirts/hoodies and it's the cutest thing ever

Spending hours in book stores

Carrying the stack of books that Rory acquires during your trip

Listening to her little rants

Her doing the same with you

Giving each other book recommendations

Swapping books and leaving each other notes in the margins

Getting an apartment together and it being the coziest place ever

Rory simply loves everything you do and vice versa

Essentially, you guys have the biggest heart eyes for each other

And I have to stop here or I'll go on forever