#a lil restaurant not far from my high school

[lilac-melody]

Thinking about my choir days and how, when I was in 6th grade choir, one amazing thing that always stuck with me is how important placements are.

My middle school choir teacher had demonstrated, putting herself in the middle and two of my classmates on either side of her. They sang a few notes, and then had the two girls switch spots.

The difference was honestly night and day.

I just think it’s neat how sound travels differently depending on placements...it really is no wonder why choir teachers are always shuffling everyone around lmao

[buttercupblu]

God is Fair|The Lost

Devotional Love with Suguru x Reader|Three-Shot

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3

the deets: sweet reminiscences of a wandering youth in a winter before a spring. you and suguru are older now and on wildly different but similar paths, you just don't know it yet. w.c: 11.4k out of still dk yet pls send help tags: fem!reader, alcohol consumption (don't drink and drive, this is a FIC for a reason plsss and ty), slight coercion, party dr*g use, territorial tendencies, a lil bit of sadism, hair pulling, lip locking, a bit o' biting, fingering, orgasm denial, a hint of emotional manipulation/gaslighting if you have brain angel’s note: don't ask me why these keep getting longer, okay? exposition loves to grab me by the throat and throttle me, idk what to say— earworm 🐛: Nangs|Tame Impala

This fucking sucks.

Napkins. Straw. Sauce...ranch? No. Barbeque. Tea. Fuck, gotta make more tea.

You were exhausted. A bit sweaty. Reeking of fryer grease and beef.

"Welcome to Shake Shack!"

And employed.

You took what felt like your 1000th order of the day, trapped in a vicious cycle of dropping baskets of fries into the fryer, then rushing back to the register to enter what you'd memorized. Often barely avoiding a crash with your co-worker who manned the grill as you cut the tight corner just as the next customers pulled up to the window.

In a town surprisingly smaller than yours, there was a high price to pay for being short-staffed.

For you, that meant having the all-too-often privilege of being the drive-through cashier and fry station manager while working with just two other team members who were also drowning on this sinking ship.

Slipping the last fry in, you finished bagging the hefty order and took and breath.

Work and college were wringing you by the neck, but things could be worse, and you handed the customer their order with a smile.

"Have a great day!"

"My tea?"

Shit—forgot it just that fast.

After waiting all of 30 seconds (give or take) for you to brew and sweeten it to perfection, the customer sped off with it with a grumble. You sighed, leaning your back against the drive-thru window. Your front register co-worker slowly peeked around the corner, having heard the skidding tires. You only shook your head and shrugged. Patience is a virtue.

The air felt so lovely, you thought during break, rubbing your arms and plopping onto a bench outside. It was always so chilly in the restaurant because...shakes, but they should allow you wear a jacket at least.

You pulled up a chair for your feet and slumped back with an exhale. Not a second into your break and you brain was still racking with thoughts.

Not of work, but of next week's exam. And your labs, and your lazy ass lab partner, and your 10-page paper and just...school in general.

You weren't failing, far from it, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to walk the fine line between getting B's and getting by. The major you chose made sure of that—healthcare was no joke.

But neither were you.

Never once a quitter, you'd rather torture yourself with the woes of medicine than admit defeat. Proving yourself day after day as you pushed through the BS, big and small.

Like your chem teacher—you got a headache anytime you thought about him. Accent thicker than molasses that you can't quite place, the guy wore a permanent resting bitch face and never seemed to want to be there.

With so much attitude pent up inside such a small man who was hell-bent on unleashing it, it was a good day if he didn't go off on someone over something as simple as not understanding the words coming out of his mouth.

It had to be his favorite excuse to never explain anything during class when eventually everyone would give up and blankly stare him in the face.

You were sure he got off on being a shit teacher with a crutch called tenure. Ending every semester with a smile as he passed around teacher reviews, knowing your responses were worthless—just like your social life.

Freshman and sophomore year had been the best for late night and regrets in the morning, but junior year? Whopped your ass.

Time for games or friends was over. Textbooks and Shake Shack were your best friends.

You took off your visor that always hugged a little too tight around your voluminous hair, immediately feeling relief before looking at the logo that mocked you.

The money your dad set aside, plus what he'd been saving since you were a baby, was enough to cover most of your expenses, but not all.You had to buy a car, textbooks, and other unexpected but totally avoidable costs that couldn't be covered for...reasons.

But it was fine.

Everything was fine.

School was...doable, and work was preparing you for independence and trust, Miss Independent was in her bag. It wasn't all bad, you thought, fiddling with the neon star on your lanyard. The cool metal nestled between your fingers was a constant reminder of when things were a little easier—you smirked—and the most unforgettable night of sophomore year.

Parties weren't foreign to you during undergrad—scratch that—you weren't foreign to parties who knew your name by heart. But most of them leading up to that night were always mildly disappointing.

Hollywood had painted a very vivid picture of college life, but for you and your roomie, the beginning of undergrad had been painfully black and white.

It wasn't that neither of you, especially Yuki, didn't try. Sometimes, you'd even end up somewhere sketch, following behind Yuki who was always chasing a thrill.

No, it was because there were really only two options for a quote-on-quote "good night": a sweaty, over-packed, testosterone-filled Frat sausage party with shit music and even shittier guys or an on-campus, alcohol-free, school-organized event with crowds of less than 20 that always ended before midnight.

Anywhere else actually worth a damn was 21 and up and off-limits to underaged 19-year-olds like the two of you. To you, they weren't even worth bringing up, but Yuki liked a challenge. A third option was always on the table. And one night, she swore she knew how to get your entire group on the scene and into a rave. All it took was a little finesse and a little dress. And bearing the cold of the December weather in tight skirts and fishnet shirts.

"Yuki, I swear to God," your words vibrated with each shiver, "If we don't get in—"

"You worry too much." She looked over the long line of heads in front of your group.

All week, she'd been going on and on about how "This weekend was going to kiss ass!", with the most boastful look on her face. She was only one year ahead of you but swore the connects she made her freshman year would come in clutch and be there that night. But after everything that happened in high school, you were such a worry wart now.

Always wanting to be sure everything went according to plan and worked out as it should. Especially once you calmed down after losing your shit and running around like a complete lunatic freshman year of college. But by the end of that year, things felt...off. Now you wanted to take sophomore year easy. But Yuki wasn't having it.

Once goosebumps began to creep up your skin as you took wobbled steps towards the front of the line, it was do or die.

Music bumped into your ears, battling your beating heart as you passed the crowd of annoyed faces who'd been waiting for God knows how long to get in. Yuki took long, runway-model strides. Eating up the lethal looks you and your group were getting for being so bold until she stood face to face with security.

His gaze traveled across Yuki's snug black leather shorts and matching thigh-high boots as she rested her hand on her hips, making him smirk.

"Hey, we're on the list," she said cooly, chin high as she ran a hand through her long blonde tresses. "Under Rico."

His smirk disappeared. "Who?"

"*scoff* Rico. Big Rico." She said like it was obvious.

"I don't know that name."

Oh no. Eyes wide, you shifted, hovering just under Yuki's shadow as you clung to her arms for warmth.

You were freezing, nearly nude, feet screaming from only a short walk, and now at risk of being embarrassed in front of a line of irritated individuals who'd probably been praying on your downfall the second you all beelined to the front.

The threat of being turned away burned hot in your cheeks. But Yuki kept her cool. "We should be under Rico." She gave him her name and the rest of the group's, but security quickly scrolled through his tablet and shook his head.

"Oh wait," he stopped at the bottom, "Yeah, Rico. Right here."

Yes!

"He's already gone in, but uh, he didn't mention any extras."

Fuck!

You told Yuki that you guys would be late while she was taking her sweet time getting ready.

Then security gave your group a slow lookover, but not in a 'I'm falling for your slutty outfits and checking you out' kind of way Yuki was hoping for. "You guys got IDs?"

Your heart dropped to your ass. You gaped like a fish.

fuckfuckfuck. You knew you were screwed anything you saw even a smidge of panic on Yuki's usually fearless face.

The situation she swore she had a surefire way to avoid blew right through her and the rips on the sides of the t-shirt she purposely wore to seduce her way out of trouble.

Curse words filled your head, ready to fire them off at Yuki the moment you got back to her car.

She had to think fast.

"Yeah, we um—"

"They're with us."

Your heads snapped toward the voice in unison and you had to crane your neck around Yuki's towering stature to find it, but find it you did—belonging to a Mr. Tall, Blonde, and Handsome—standing right off the entrance to the rave with a drink in hand and eyes firmly locked on you.

"'Bout time you got here, Yuki. Friends." He nodded your way.

You? Us?

For a second, you knew he had to be mistaken but resisted the urge to look around for whoever he must have been talking to. But his gaze didn't waver.

You exhaled, blushing. Relieved but wondering why this appetizing stranger was coming to your rescue.

"You're with Rico?" security butted in.

"Yeah, yeah." And the stranger waved his wristband in air, a small neon star dangling from it for everyone to see. "Now, let these ladies in. They're freezing." And he winked at you.

Yuki wasted no time brushing past the still-skeptical bouncer, greeting your savior with open arms. "Sorry we're late, dude!" Playing up the act as if she'd done it a million times before, and the rest of your group quickly snagged their VIP wristbands before funneling into the booming venue.

It didn't click that you were getting in scot-free until the stranger looked back at you, waiting and holding the door open with a nod. "Coming?"

Your feet couldn't carry you fast enough, rushing forward as he took the last wristband, and secured it snugly around your wrist before flicking the neon star, looking down on you. "Perfect," he smirked. And for the sake of your steadily increasing heartbeat, you could only nod and avoid looking him in the eye.

Damn, what luck. And you slipped inside.

You had an idea of what crossing the threshold into the rave would be like, but your imagination fell unbelievably short.

Instant sensory overload—pulsing beats thumped through your chest, vibrating through the floor and into your bones. Vibrant strobe lights sliced through the dense fog of smoke machines, mixing with the heady air thick with the scent of sweat, perfume, and a faint aroma of smoke.

Every corner seemed alive, packed with swirling seas of bodies moving in sync with the relentless EDM rhythm and snatching so much of your attention that you almost forgot your manners.

"Thanks! Thank you!" you tried to shout, feeling yourself slowly defrost in the humid, rave air. "And Rico."

Stretching your arms out, you admired how the fluorescent purple lights made your shirt, neon nails, and cute new star accessory glow in the hazy darkness. They subtly reflected on the stranger's muscle tee you didn't realize was so close to you. Becoming aware of his gaze at the same time he caught yours.

His drifted over your fishnet shirt, white, tight, and highlighting your already glistening skin adorn with oils and powders—yours drew to his silver eyebrow piercing then to the colorful ink cascading from behind his ears, down his neck, and disappearing into his shirt.

He looked like an undergrad student but would've had to start on a piece like that years ago to finish something so intricate that also flowed onto his arms.

Would his chest be tattooed, too? Now you were staring at it.

Blushing, you looked away, realizing you were actually chest level with a man who practically towered over you.

"Who's Rico?"

Your brows furrowed at the same time a glimmer of light caught a sneaky piece of jewelry, snug on the corner of his bottom lip. Smugly smiling, he held out his hand, urging you to take it.

What the fu—

For the second time that night, you were speechless.

Confusion flickered across your face as you hesitated, studying his confident vibe and easy smile that invited you to continue to trust him.

That calm and collected aura that had finessed your way into a forbidden space when you were ready to throw in the towel and give Yuki the old "I told you so."

Something about him was tempting—maybe the air of mystery draping over him that made you both curious and cautious.

Amidst the chaotic surroundings and nerves settling down after winging your luck, his so-sure presence demanded your attention. But it also made you wonder what he was doing it all for.

Regardless, it wasn't the time to get all psychological. Yuki and the others were already far ahead, soon to be lost in the crowd if you didn't catch up.

He bit his lip, watching your reservations gradually melt away as you nervously took his hand and returned his smile—welcoming yourself aboard the first ride of the night.

He easily parted the sea of people as you followed behind, almost immediately finding your group thanks to your roommate. Always easy to find, she unironically stands out in a crowd—tall, loud, and bursting with energy like everyone else lived in her background.

After socking her in the arm hard enough to bring her down a little for leaving you behind, your unofficial guide for the night suggested you all hit the bar for a round of shots, his treat.

Yuki held her hand to her chest with a smile, immediately forgetting the dull pain in her arm. Leaning in close to you, she whispered, "Okay, Mr. Moneybags." And he soon returned with an amount of alcohol that could rival a Frat Party.

Picking a shot up from the tray, he toasted, "To a great night."

"A kick-ass night!" Yuki added, and you rolled your eyes but clinked shots.

The neon green liquid that looked like coolant and battery acid had a baby flooded your system, making you wince with each swallow. Fruity, sour, and stronger than anything you'd had before. It set your insides of fire, and you tried your best not to show it, but Mr. Calm, Cool, and Collected thought it was cute.

"I'm not a kid," you commented when he suggested you slow down on the shots you were clearly struggling with. Damn Yuki and her 'see a shot, take a shot' rule. She'd always start with two and made sure everyone kept up with each other. "You don't have to baby me."

But how couldn't he with a pout that cute sitting on your face flushed from the eccentric liquor?

"Why'd you help us anyway?" you asked, leaning on the table your group surrounded.

He mimicked your actions, sharp brown eyes glinting as he explained that he was simply a Good Samaritan who happened to be in the right place at the right time to help some girls in need. "Some really cute ones," he said into your ear.

Your cheeks warmed—and not just from the alcohol—as he drew back just close enough to barely graze your ear with his soft lips.

He was flirting.

And you were a terrible flirt—always residing in the back seat, never driving the car. Letting things happen to you instead of engaging. An approach that almost always ended in disappointment.

But there he was, this sinfully attractive man, openly vying for your attention—and shamelessly unafraid to say it. Clearly already into you, evident by his increasingly intimate actions, and assumed you were too because you were still in his face and hadn't run off just yet.

So you wouldn't need to do much more, right? Just do what you've seen in the movies.

Pretending to be unfazed, you brushed off his compliment with a smile, tucking a braid behind your ear. "So...knight in shining armor, you got a name?"

He chuckled and straightened his stance, suddenly making you feel even smaller than before.

"Naoya," he smirked.

You raised your next shot, bright and pink like your shiny lipgloss. "To Naoya," you toasted, quickly downing it with a sly smile that said you were far from innocent. But the OPs couldn't stand to see you be great, sending a dribble to free-dive down the corner of your mouth.

Cupping your chin before you could react, Naoya swiped his thumb across your skin and nonchalantly placed it in his mouth.

"Sweet."

And good fucking God, you didn't know if he was talking about the drink or you. Watching him subtly roll his thumb between his lips made you exhale regardless. Just like—

Thankfully, Yuki came to your rescue, pulling you into the lively crowd before you could probably do or say something stupid.

Unrestrained laughter echoed from your circle, dancing to the pulsating beats.

Yuki, always the life of the party, twirled and pulled everyone into her orbit—your group and strangers alike—while Naoya stuck close. Every few minutes or so he'd mingled with the group he came with, letting them put a dent in most of the shots he bought, but he had a different interest in mind. Stealing flirty peeks at you as you bounced to the techno beat, effortlessly drawing your attention back to him, even in a sea of lingering gazes.

Each time your eyes met, a thrill shot through you that was both exciting and slightly unnerving.

The magnetism between you was undeniable, but another part of you wondered if you were getting too much into your head. Whether it was simply lust making him devour you with his eyes or if it was really just you. There was always the chance he could be just like all the others. And a waste of your time.

But you could only ping-pong your thoughts for so long, and in the end, the thrill of what-ifs, alcohol, and a hint of rebuked behavior outweighed your apprehension until it wasn't enough to matter.

Silly, even.

His attention was simply more intoxicating than the alcohol coursing through your veins.

Just the thought of being the focus of someone so undeniably captivating was enough to entice you to stay within his sight, kick caution to the curb, and give him a show.

Hungry glances swarmed your way, but Naoya just stood back and took you in.

Flashes of your supple cheeks under your reflective skirt, your hair brushing the nape of your neck in those high, perfectly grippable pigtails. Fleeting thoughts of how they'd look in his hands.

A sway here, a caress of your body there, and it was easy to lock him in. Making him give less than a fuck about the "competition" or how they nearly broke their necks to get a glimpse of you.

Because as he watched your fingers lazily glide up your velvety thighs, over your chest, and up your tender neck without a second of broken eye contact between you, he knew this meal was just for him.

And so the night went. Playing the Yandere game. Occasionally being stolen by Yuki or one of the girls to build up a sweat and tease the crowd with bumps and grinds and lingering hands on each other's waists. Syncing with one another. All of you lost in the moment and savoring the night that was far from over.

Until you blinked and a few hours had passed, drenched clothes clung to every body, the once-exuberant crowd thinned out, and the blinking venue lights signaled that the night's event was drawing to a close.

Yuki's face couldn't have been more distraught as she smoothed her sweaty hair back to showcase her pouting face. "What the fuck, dude, it feels like we just got here??"

You opened your mouth, ready to scold her and remind her that, once again, this was entirely her fault for being slower than a DMV line while getting ready, but decided it wasn't worth your breath.

However, Yuki's infectious energy was raging at its peak with no signs of fading, and made sure everyone knew. But what could you do?

Choke your anxiety down and try your luck again with another club, or God forbid, crawl back to frat parties?

Staying in the dorms and bingeing Rom-Coms and junk food would be more entertaining.

Still, Yuki made her problem everyone else's—whining and groaning. Loudly protesting that the fun was just getting started and going on as if her soul was being crushed. Theater was robbed the day she majored in Sociology.

So dramatic. And it should've been easy to say you were fine with calling it a night and returning to your much warmer bed.

But that would've been a lie.

Just a teeny tiny itty bitty one. But big enough to matter.

And you internally rolled your eyes so hard you could almost see stars.

Because Naoya was the reason why.

God, you hated yourself.

The promise of something more was enough to blow hearts into your eyes as it snuck in and wrapped you in its clutches. Trapping you in one of the most intense instances of sexual chemistry you'd felt in a while—budding, simmering, and patiently waiting to spill over.

It was mildly irritating, your mind filling with thoughts of where things could go with this guy you barely knew. That little pinch of hope for a chance of something happening—even after playing hard to get all night.

You wondered if you'd ever see him again.

Ah well. That's nightlife for you.

It was fun while it lasted, but Yuki's voice brought you back to reality, growing increasingly more annoying as your hearing started to return to normal.

Seconds away from you throttling her and telling her to grip, Naoya made his presence known again, having overheard Yuki's pleas to extend the night.

"I know a spot."

Surprise failed you because, of course he did.

Mr. "I know, Rico." It was kinda weird Yuki hadn't asked about Rico the second you all stepped inside but with the crowd as thick as it was earlier, finding him would've been nearly impossible anyway.

But this was too perfect—the savior suddenly swooping in twice in one night with open arms and no hint of wanting more. Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe your super quiet, nearly non-existent hopes and prayers for a main character moment had been answered.

But you weren't young enough to be that much of an idiot.

Still, was it a bit silly to be so sketch? Second-guessing this "Good Samaritan"? This casual guy tucking his thumbs in his pockets and holding a self-assured, but trusting smile whom you didn't know from a can of paint?

The back and forth was exhausting.

As if reading your thoughts, his head slightly tilted, signaling the words you wouldn't say.

Could you? Would you?

The unspoken questions hung in the air like Yuki clung to your shoulders, practically begging you to live a little.

Either the night ended there or could evolve into something new.

You just had to use your words.

But a sigh was enough to make Yuki squeal, answer in hand before you could speak.

"Let's gooo," and she beelined out of the rave just as they were shutting down the bar and switching on the lights.

Goosebumps made an abrupt comeback. The transition from humid rave heat to brisk winter air instantly sobered your group, seeping into your pores and drying your sweat.

After making sure Yuki was good to drive, you practically ran to her car. Coincidently sitting just a row over from Naoya's.

Yuki gawked at the sleek, red sports car. "Well, color me impressed." Its blinding headlights flickered as Naoya unlocked it.

You hadn't known someone with a car that nice since the Geto's.

"Follow me to the next spot?" he laughed, leaning on the car's roof.

If there weren't so many of you, he'd tell all of you to hop in and make yourselves comfortable, but he also knew your guards would be up—as they should.

His head tipped at Yuki, but he kept his eyes on you. "Keep her safe, ya?" And ducked into the car.

Your face didn't feel so cold after that.

"Girl."

You squinted in disbelief.

"Is this a junkyard?"

In the middle of old car parts and rusting scraps of metal, a steel warehouse glimmered in the moonlight, confirming that it was. Strobe lights shot out, lighting the bubble of space in the darkness as it came into view.

And just when you thought there had to be some mistake, some wrong turn taken at some point down the long, dark gravel road through the trees, Naoya's car cruised through the chain-link fence, finally stopping in the dirt path after the 30-minute drive outside the city limits.

This was unreal.

Alt Rock—Phoenix?—vibrated through Yuki's car, barely contained by the warehouse walls as it blasted into the open air.

"What the..." You lost your words for the third damn time that night.

The hell is this? Who is this guy???

Asking questions had been the least of Yuki's concerns earlier. Or during the lengthy drive there as you repeatedly asked her if she knew where you guys were. She was just happy to have her prayers to keep the night going and finish burning energy answered—damn how—and repeatedly said you guys would be fine.

But a warehouse?? A damn warehouse???

An after-hours club, house party, hell, even a dive bar came to mind when Naoya said he knew a spot.

What a spot to know and you noticed the numerous cars scattered throughout the dirt yard as you looked around.

Black leather skirts and oversized jackets littered the crowd. Ripped stockings and Demonia's hugged nearly every leg.

This was a scene you weren't familiar with, not that you discriminated, but other than Yuki, the rest of you would be glaringly sticking out like a sore thumb. Neon colors clearly weren't the move here, and you all looked like walking glow sticks in a sea of scene kids and black lipstick—sure to be noticed the second you stepped out of the car.

You knew you should've trusted your gut.

"At least the music's good," Yuki said as if reading your thoughts. Her head bobbed to the seductive beat. “🎶He’s just tryna be cooool.🎶”

You could strangle her.

"C'mon, lighten up," she said, unfazed by your distressed face. "Think of it as an adventure." She turned to the back seat. "Right girls?"

Shoko had stopped caring long ago, and Utahime, still buzzing from the rave, was down for whatever.

Freshman year you probably would've shaken you by your shoulders and called you a pussy by now.

But why were you acting brand new? You knew what this was. Been knew from the moment you agreed to go out with Yuki this weekend that something as crazy as this happening had always been on the table.

She was always so daring, so spontaneous and unpredictable. Always relaxed and in control no matter the situation—all of what drew you into her in the first place. The perfect roommate.

She reminded you of what you used to be—what you were trying to get back to. Even if it meant repeatedly pressing all of your buttons.

You pinched your brows together, secretly regretting the day you born.

"Fine."

"Fuck yeah!" And not a second later, her car whipped into a makeshift parking spot so fast you almost got whiplash.

Just ahead, Naoya hopped out of his car, cooly walking up. "Ha, you made it," he joked, but your resting bitch said nothing was funny.

"Okay, okay, look, I know what this looks like," he began, apologizing for not giving you guys a heads-up. But trust me."

A breeze danced across his face, tousling his bangs and showing off the subtle glint in his pretty brown eyes. And as if on cue, his lips curled into the signature smile you knew was coming, once again offering his hand.

"Will you?"

...Godfkindammit.

What the hell is happening here?

Those butterflies just would not give you a break. And neither would Yuki if you turned him down, especially after coming this far already.

You cursed under your breath and took his hand, hoping the flutters would go away, but only passed them on to him.

His lip ring flashed as he smiled, his fingers lacing with yours.

"Super sweet."

And welcomed you into his territory.

Throughout your life, you've learned that looks can be deceiving. And if you had forgotten, example A stood front and center in that moment.

On first glance, it may have looked like a glaring OSHA violation, but what the warehouse lacked on the outside, it made up for with a jaw-dropping inside.

Head falling back, you marveled at the intricate web of large steel beams weaving throughout the vaulted ceiling. Dancing light bounced off the metal, one-up the rave and casting colorful shadows on the floor, walls, and everyone inside.

Drum-heavy bass and gritty guitar riffs ripped through the speakers, welcoming you. Pulling you into an underground world that was very welcoming to Naoya too.

A hot commodity, nearly every face you saw couldn't help but smile and greet him on the walk-in. Unable to resist his charm. Pandering for even a hint of attention even though his hand remained fixed on you, pulling you through the crowd and bringing a blush to your face. It was clear you were his guest.

Oak and orange blossom clashed with the sharp tang of industrial machinery, heavily perfuming the air thanks to the dense, edgy crowd, but at least it wasn't as packed as the rave. Quite the opposite actually—the space here was wide open, yet surprisingly insulated against the cold. It'd be hard to get lost, but you still told Yuki not to run off because you knew what was coming next.

"Shot o'clock!"

Surprising.

And this time, they were on her.

"A toast, to Naoya." The glass glistened in the lights as she held it high. "And this totally cool spot."

She linked arms with Shoko and Utahime and they tossed their shots back together. Leaving you out—no doubt on purpose.

Naturally, Naoya looked to you, completely oblivious to the ritual but willing to play along if you were.

You steeled your nerves, deciding to get the girls back for that later, and snaked your arm around his muscled one. Snug. Close. No big deal. People totally don't do super intimate things like this at weddings or anything.

Looking him in the eye, you grinned. "To you again." And downed the shot in sync, feeling the cool liquid slide down your throat. Spreading a fuzzy feeling through your body all over again and helping you settle into the reality of the night.

This environment was different.

There was an air of exclusivity in the space—his vibe—this place meant for the in-crowd—something to be a part of that he had access to and personally invited you into.

Like remnants of high school. Drawing you in like a magnet.

And this time, you stuck close to Naoya. Baiting his attention again.

His lingering gaze drew curious glances from your friends that you were quick to brush off, but even you couldn't ignore the nuzzle heat from the way his eyes bore into your swaying frame.

As if you weren't already fully aware, your favorite two-toned brunette, Utahime, kept raising eyebrows at you and tipping her head his way real "smooth-like". Totally not right in front of him where it was super noticeable and embarrassingly obvious.

When she got fed up with your shy act, she lovingly wrapped her arms around your neck, making you both sync to the beat. With a slightly tipsy smile on her face, she said just loud enough for you to hear, "Go get that dick." And quickly twirled you around until you posted right in front of Naoya.

A ditzy look plastered on your face as you froze. Slowly meeting his eyes with a flushed look of embarrassment that pulled a smile out of him. You looked so cute trying to hold yourself together and seem unbothered. But if it weren't for the alcohol swimming through your system, you might've bailed.

Yet, liquid courage ran through you, hell-bent on making you step into your bad bitch shoes because confidence lived in your blood.

If there was any chance of finding out if this was real or not, it was now never.

Eyes locked—his having never stopped eyefucking you—you both smirked. With a tip of your hand and slightly wobbly knees, you invited the man who made you ache between your thighs to dance.

With a small laugh, he gently bit his lip, finding you cute enough to plant a kiss on your wrist then pull you close. "About time," he said, fingers digging into your waist.

What a pretty face you made when you were surprised. But you surprised him right back when you twirled around, your ass grazing his front as you closed the gap between you.

If he was going to beg for your attention, he had to prove he could handle it, and gradually, you relaxed enough to dance—curves winding in beat with the flowy rhythm—enticing him to take the bait and dance his hands along your waist. Syncing rhythm, closeness, and heat to slowly rebuild a sweat.

Your head, light as a feather, fell back against his chest, exposing your shimmery neck. Sugary sweet scents you doused yourself in earlier drew him into your sweet spot, stifling your breath as his grazed your skin, erasing your final remnants of hesitation.

The instinct to draw your hands to his hair reminded you that the freedom to let go was a drug. A heady, intoxicating sensation that mingled with the pleasure of his hands slipping along your thighs and climbing up your sides like ecstasy until you opened your hazy eyes and stared it in the face. Pale blue, tiny, and snug between his peace fingers.

Gasping, you swiftly faced a grinning Naoya.

"What is—"

"X", he replied so casually, as if he hadn't just practically shoved a drug in your face without warning.

What the hell was with this guy???

The anxiety you worked to snuff out all night quickly clawed its way out.

From the moment you met Naoya, he'd been a walking enigma who kept going for broke.

The borderline reckless and carefree attitude could even one-up Yuki's, and freshman you definitely couldn't hold a candle. At least the unhinged version of you knew better than to throw caution to the wind and go around looking for randos who happen to do dRUGS???

What if you were like an undercover cop or something, you thought, crossing your glitter-covered arms.

Was his brain constantly on go—never taking a second to think before acting—or was he so confident in himself that he didn't care if others judged him?

It kinda sounded familiar...and was awfully cringe to think about.

But fuck that, how often did he do this?? Go around seducing girls, saving the day, then dragging them to nowhere to—

"An adventure."

What?

Aw, fuck.

God, fuck, there she goes again.

Feet away, yet in your ear, in case you thought you could ever escape her.

Yuki's annoyingly convincing voice echoed through your head like peer pressure on steroids, telling you to chill the fuck out and stop overthinking. Asking you in the most mocking tone your brain could conjure up, "What are you so afraid of?"

Sure, you were a virgin to the world of party drugs...but you couldn't say you'd never been curious.

Degrassi, Skins, and shows alike all set the bar for what college life was supposed to look like long ago, and drugs almost always had a seat at the table—glimmering and glamorized all over television. Surrounded by fun and pretty people.

But you knew fuck all about ecstasy outside of what high school Health Ed class said it would feel like: energy and euphoria— compressed into a colorful little pill.

It wasn't...the best argument against it.

Still, you were a little virgin baby. Aside from alcohol, you'd only flirted with Mary Jane, and that was only a couple of times at a few frat parties freshman year. You didn't exactly have a bucket list for drugs.

But there it was, an opportunity presenting itself.

And as skeptical as you were about Naoya—the mystery, the conveniences, the 'too good to be true' personality that kept poking you in the gut—those same yellow flag, along with his cunning, almost taunting demeanor, dared you to step up to the plate.

Even now, his confident gaze swallowed your doe eyes with a look you couldn't turn away from—thumb gently pressing into your waist with a silent reassurance. In a 'you don't have to do it' kind of way that seemed to take all the weight off.

Still, he tipped his head, gave you a firm squeeze and a grin, and said, "Take it with me—if you want." And sat the split pill, SKY written on it in tiny letters, right on the edge of his pink tongue.

You thought about home. And then you thought about the thrill you'd been searching for all your life. God...

If this went wrong, at least the girls were nearby to kick his teeth in.

You swallowed hard.

There was only one way to say yes, and it rushed out of your mouth before Yuki's voice could taunt you again.

"An adventure," you breathed, quickly diving in before anyone could see—wrapping your tongue around his and tasting bitterness on yours. Ignoring your racing heart from the sheer audacity to be so bold.

His lip lingered on yours until he was sure you swallowed the metallic pill, a small string of slick glistening as he pulled away.

"An adventure," he repeated before flashing his trademark smile and pulling your arms around his neck.

It finally hit you what Naoya reminded you of. Something you used to look for on purpose. Something that required a bit of work and a firm resolve.

Effort.

A challenge.

And it was time to play catch up.

Minutes felt like hours waiting for something, anything, to happen, but Naoya's secure grasp held you and your attention as you danced. Firm. Warm. Melting.

Melting?

Indeed melting—fingers dipping into the divots of your hips as if they could sink through like butter—coaxing your head to lazily float back under the wavy touch. Wavering a moment and brushing Naoya's fingertips with the ends of your waist-length pigtails that were growing increasingly easier to grab.

Pretty steel beams. Were they always this mesmerizing? Or close? Like they would sink to your level just so you could grab on. Or maybe you'd always been 20 feet tall and never knew?

Naoya snickered, holding the weight you practically threw into his arms. Admiring the strobes of light bathing your softly rising and falling chest as you fell into a trance—your body turning to jelly before you even realized it was happening.

But the awareness of your suddenly heavy eyelids and increasingly ridiculous thoughts of the ceiling slapped you down to earth, sending you into a mini panic. Head, heavier than ever, pulling forward until your fluttering eyes met Naoya's blown-out gaze. Staring. Drinking in every subtle change in your warm, flushed face.

A satisfied smirk played on his lips, watching your mouth part and breaths slow. Dying to close the imaginary and real gap that opened and shut between you all night until he once again flushed his skin against yours. And this time, a switch flipped; it wasn't just his proximity making your chest buzz. You swore you were sharing vibrations.

Warmth grew in your core at his touch. The oh-so-unbelievably soft yet coarse yet caressible feel of his skin pulsing against yours. Flooding your veins, spreading from your tongue to the tips of your fingers.

You were tingling.

And couldn't stop tingling.

And knew you couldn't stop tingling no matter how hard you tried, and for some reason, the euphoric thought made you break out into an uncontrollable grin.

"There she is." Naoya lifted your chin, vibrant colors blurring together on his face like a kaleidoscope.

All you wanted to do was stare at him, the array of colors on the cement floor, and the dizzying visual rhythm beating with the music. Like Nang was literally seeping into your bones, begging you to float and finally touch those steel beams.

God, you'd never been so happy you made a decision. That you chose to be here—that he chose you—that you trusted Yuki, the girls, and yourself enough to get out of your rut and end up here. In the arms of a guy you wanted nothing more than to finally give in and slob down from head to toe for being so hot and intoxicating and slyly nibbling on his lip ring every single time you locked eyes.

"Here I am," you said, teasing a grin you hoped was as good as his. Feeling alive, truly alive for the first time that year—completely immersed in the chaotic blend of lights, sounds, and bodily surrealism. Bliss peeled away your breath as his feverish hands danced along your body in a way that was too much and never enough.

Dainty fingers found your outstretched neck, pleasure etching on your face as you caressed the sensitive areas begging to be touched. Fingertips, music, ego, and air binding like sex in a sinful combo—evident by the full display of the undercuff of your ass, eliciting stifled moans from Naoya as your hips swirled into him.

That state of you was telling, and he hoped he didn't give you too much, but your ass looked so goddamn perfect, molding around the growing ache in his already tight jeans. Like you were trying to pull something out of him, but he only laughed to himself because he was sure you'd actually melt into a puddle if he sank his hands into your plush cheeks.

You looked amazing—you felt amazing—everything was amazing—and should always feel like this, you thought.

This high, this joy, this love—it was universal.

Easy.

So very easy to give and take—and deserving,

Everyone deserved love in some away.

And suddenly you were an ecstasy evangelist, slipping from Naoya's arms into the pulsating crowd.

Naturally gravitating to a drunken Utahime, her swaying form coming into focus with bright and infectious laughter amidst the haze. So happy. So carefree. You just had to have some, reaching out to grab her hand and pull her close.

"Isn't this—your breath felt so light, "—just the best?" You shouted over the music, your voice a mix of exhilaration and disbelief.

You laughed, the sound almost lost amongst the beats, as you tugged Utahime closer. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity and amusement, but her attention drew to the sheer ecstasy etched onto your face.

"Seriously," you said, pressing her hand to your chest, "This is everything."

Utahime's smile was warm, but her brows slightly furrowed. "You've, uh, finally come around, ya?"

She hadn't seen this side of you since you'd met. A state that was a little beyond tipsy, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

Shoko sidled up—the least drunk in the group—casually draping her arm over the girl you knew she'd been secretly dating since the beginning of the semester. Cigarette tucked behind her ear like she was going out to smoke soon, but holding a knowing grin. Her gaze swept over you, lingering for just a moment too long before she said, "Someone's certainly having a good time."

Correction, you were having a fantastic time. Everyone should be, you thought, so glad to have all of your girls with you before realizing that someone was missing. And like you knew she would, Yuki had run off. Probably huddled up by a wall, towering over some poor guy or girl by now.

But Shoko's tone flew right over your head—the heat of the crowd catching you in its web. Your body hadn't stopped moving since you came into the circle—a complete slave to the contagious energy and music. Leaving your swaying hips all vulnerable, freely out in the open and unattended to.

Such a shame, some guy thought, someone should take care of that.

It wasn't until you felt a pair of hands glue to your waist and heat against your back that you stopped mid-motion. Rough, almost aggressive, and hasty gropes squeezing your hips but losing you in the manic energy. And as if it were a natural extension of the night's chaos, the sensation rolled your body into the unfamiliar touch in a way that felt out of your control.

And pissed Naoya off.

He'd been watching the entire show from where you left him, allowing you to go off to be with your girls, not a slut for anyone else.

He tsked, his usually smooth demeanor cracking as he glared. Watching you casually give away what was his to some random guy. As if he meant nothing. As if you didn't owe him.

And the sight of the guy's face—smug and sleazy as if he'd hit the jackpot—and his grubby hands inching closer to the grand prize between your thighs, sent Naoya right over the edge.

He moved swiftly through the crowd, eyes locked on you, pulling you away so quickly you missed the way his jaw clenched. Grip firm but controlled as he wove pasted a stunned Shoko and Utahime, through the space, and out into the cool night air.

The warehouse loomed above, its graffiti-splattered walls bathed in the glow of the quarter moon. Fingers gliding over the dusty lines, you traced the art, trailing Naoya who pulled you behind him until he reached the back.

He took a deep breath, trying to mask his unexpected jealousy, but the way you were being so ditzy and cute and oblivious to the world only added fuel to the fire.

You didn't mean to, his reaction was just so funny, especially when he looked so flustered trying to hide his lingering scowl with a slick grin that, for the first time that night, didn't reach his eyes.

And you wouldn't stop fucking laughing, even as he kept walking towards you until your back hit the warehouse wall.

But that smile was deceiving.

His hand shot out, grabbing a hold of your face, fingers digging into your cheeks and tilting your chin so he could look into your glazed-over eyes.

"Such a pretty girl," he murmured. your lips feeling like putty as he teased with his thumb,

Though his words seemed sweet, a twinge of unease sparked in your chest watching his eyes turn dark, sadistic. Hungry. The playful facade shattering, earning your undivided attention and bringing your giggles to a halt when you realized he wasn't fucking around.

Your eyes widened. Whatever you'd been teasing all night had finally awoken and stood at your door. Ready to devour your faltering heart as slow, heavy breaths escaped your glossed lips.

He had to taste them.

And did, lips crashing onto yours, teeth and tongue dominating your mouth until you moaned into his.

Your arm wrapped around his neck, searching for leverage against the furious energy, before feeling it pin to the wall. His other hand slipped from your face, ghosting from your jaw to your neck—squeezing lightly, almost growling, and stealing your breath.

He pulled away, his eyes following his finger tracing the maze of net resting over your chest. Taking your glinting belly ring—the perfect match to his lip ring—between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting a slight groan from you when he tugged.

He smirked—the face you made when you winced was even prettier than your surprise face. He wondered what other ones he could get out of you.

And just when you thought the torture was over, his fingers slid around your back, finally twisting into one of your pigtails with a pull.

Your head snapped back and his lips attached to your neck, breath hot against your skin as he inhaled your intoxicating scent—biting, sucking, trying to mark you. Mind flashing to the guy he should've punched for even looking at you.

You gasped, being forced to use your free arm to hold onto him when his leg swept between your thighs, propping you up on his knee.

He groaned into your neck—your panties were absolutely ruined—damping his skin with so much stringy slick, he struggled to keep himself from rutting into you.

But your hips wouldn't stop moving even if you tried. Grinding into the friction that felt like fire every time your clit bumped into a rip in his jeans. So disgusting lewd, but you were growing so warm with each pulsing thump. Unashamedly needing more. And painting his skin with juicy kisses.

Damn, he thought, smirking against your skin at your whimpers. Wondering if you'd start panting like a dog in heat as your fucks to give flew out the window. Mind only fixed on the lip-biting flick of your feverish clit that made your walls clench around nothing.

But he wouldn't let you cum that easily. At least not like that. No, he needed to do it himself.

He pinned you still, grip tight on your waist and lips finding yours when you whined from the lost of sensation. Sneaking a hand under your skirt and making you moan into his mouth when he grabbed your ass. Finally feeling your soft and warm and plush curves melt into his fingers.

"I want you," he said between kisses.

Your mews as your pressed into his touch told him you wanted him too, but he needed to hear you say it.

Fingers crawling under your things, he drew slow, long hot lines across your skin until they reached your parted valley. Your breath hitched, knowing where he was heading, but you spread wider, hoping he would hurry and get there faster. Inching closer and closer to your sweet heat with a slow breath, he brought you nearer and nearer to a rapture you seldomly experienced when he suddenly stopped at the precipice.

"Say it."

Your brows furrowed.

"Tell me what you want."

You spit out the only thing you knew. "I want you." And your mouth fell open feeling a warm pad on your clit. His thumb just resting there, feeling you throb through your thin g-string. Waiting to see if you'd be so bold as to hump him again. Whining and writhing instead, you fell prey to the touch that was light to most but dizzying in the world of E.

"You want me to what?"

Your cheeks warmed. God, was he gonna drag it out of you if you didn't say it?

Once more, you latched your mouth onto his to avoid saying so, only to accidentally bite the inside of his bottom lip when two fingers roughly pushed inside you.

"Fuck, you're so tight." And warm and soaked.

He didn't even care that you almost bit a hole into him, only focused on stuffing you full until resistance finally gave way and swallowed his fingers.

Your stomach tightened, legs drawing together only to be blocked by his knee as his fingers swam deeper than the nails you dug into his back until he bottomed out.

Fire grew in your hand, his grip sliding from your arm to pin your wrist. You started to squirm. It was too much at once.

And made Naoya's dick stand on ten watching your body resist but betray itself by continuing to make his fingers glisten in the moonlight.

You poor things who couldn't make up your mind, Naoya thought. Teasing him all night only to run from his fingers.

If you were squeezing that tight around two little digits, he wondered how you'd feel on his dick. How long it would take for your eyes to roll into the back of your head.

How quickly he could pull an orgasm out of you.

He let your arm fall, his slipping under to palm your ass and pull you closer. Tightening around your waist so you couldn't escape his fingers brutally pumping into you.

"ff-fUCK!" A gasp ripped from your chest, your eyes screwing shut at the blazing sin that just rippled through your body.

What was thAT???

A funny button in you was assaulted over and over and over again, forcing your walls to clench on command and send fiery tingles straight to your clit.

Desperate hands scrambled to find purchase around his neck, holding on for dear life. You felt yourself go tense at the relentless rhythm, but even moreso at the unfamiliar face shooting through your core. Slender fingers rutting in and pumping out—running juices down his wrist.

The squelching sounds penetrated your ears, mouth falling open as drool began to dribble down. You felt your brain fizzling out, eyes going cross—he was hitting that same spot over and over and over again. Dragging the breath from your lungs with every dip. And the few whines you failed to suppress that did slip out, couldn't compete with his merciless strokes. Purposefully working an angle that sent swarms of vibrations to your curling toes.

An unfamiliar warmth began to pool in your walls, making his dick twitch feeling your little pulses start to clench around his fingers. You were so close so fast, but then he slowed.

"Now tell me what you want."

You could die.

Literally die from the embarrassment, the desperation, the filthy way you were still trying to steal back even a smidge of that foreign but addicting touch by attempting to wiggle your hips you knew he wouldn't allow out of place—if you weren't hoping to die on his fingers first.

But a desperate pout formed, knowing he wouldn't give it to you without you folding.

And your pathetic pussy begged you to bend.

"I-I wan..." He grabbed your chin when your lips pursed closed, slotting his thumb between them to open them again.

No more hiding, no more silence, no more games.

His other thumb pressed right on your clit, fingers curling and stilling right against that magic button that blew fireworks into your rolling eyes. He was gonna make you talk.

And with a shaky breath, defeated and damn near pleading, you begged. "Please...make me c-cum." Looking at him like you were feeble and yearning. Like his demand was all that mattered. "Please."

There it was.

The submission he'd been waiting for all night.

Flushed cheeks and helpless doe eyes. Puffy lips slowly closing around his thumb and planting desperate kisses.

Neediness staring him in the face.

No longer caring that he literally had you wrapped around his finger.

He smirked, fighting the urge to cum just from sight. Right where he wanted you. Less was said.

You gaped when his knee moved, swiftly falling a few inches before he lifted your thigh—pressing it against the wall to spread you wide.

Sounds of your vinyl skirt stretching ripped through the air, and you should've been worrying about the possibility of it tearing if it weren't for fingers stealing your focus again. He hummed feeling easily slip back in, middle and ring fingers this time to hook perfectly inside and blow your g-spot to absolute smithereens.

Crying out, you almost drew blood from your lip as your body went rigid, clinging to him. The sensation you were just ready to sell your soul for relentlessly spamming on 1000.

If it was borderline too much before, with this new angle that lended him direct access, it was torturously too much now. But he could care less if you clawed his back to death as you tried to run to and run from the mouth-watering intensity.

Your pussy sounded so good for him, making him moan and grind his dick into your thigh like it was an extension of his fingers. Leaving hot kisses on your neck as his thumb drew dizzying circles on your clit. Making your toes flex and shaky foot slowly rise up off the ground. Obliterating what was left of free thought as your breath hitched.

He took in your rapturous face, feeling a rush of power and control surge through his veins. The authority he had over your body as he wrestled moans out of you filled him with an intoxicating sense of dominance.

Every gasp, every tremble, only fueled his intention to give you exactly what you didn't know you needed all night. To completely unravel under his command.

The fiery pool returned with a brain-altering vengeance and your pulses grew stronger and closer until he was absolutely positive you were seconds away from tasting heaven. And looking dead on into your blurry eyes, he finally gave you permission.

"Cum."

And the tight coil ruthlessly snapped. Walls surrendering to the all-consuming touch that sent your eyes rolling as your pussy harshly clenched on his fingers. Body arching into the fervid touch before you stopped breathing and your colorful vision went white.

Pornographic moans finally broke from you, loud and lewd and desperate enough you were sure you could draw a crowd.

And what a sight it was for Shoko to witness the very moment you tumbled into rapture, cigarette she stepped outside to smoke almost slipping from her lips.

The only witness of you climbing aboard the ecstasy train didn't think it would have led you this far, but the pledge you made earlier that year to swear off your freshman-year antics—sex and relationships included—was clearly long forgotten. Utahime didn't believe you, often provoked you even, and Shoko, not knowing you as well, just took our word for it.

But there you were, living out your wildest Skins dream. Holding hands with the Little Death with a side of alcohol and ecstasy. Cries falling on deaf ears and he continued to fuck you through your blinding orgasm.

Main character energy, she thought as she lit her cigarette, turning to leave before she was noticed. Taking note to maybe try that with Utahime one day.

Minutes later, you returned on the scene with Bambi legs, finding Shoko leaning against the entrance door. She stayed up front to make sure you made it back in safely and ignored the slick running down your legs you couldn't clean up until you got to the restroom. Naoya gave her a knowing win as he trailed behind you, but she got a weird feeling.

She was all for you finally having a bit of fun, but there was something specifically about Naoya that didn't sit right with her.

Maybe it was the way he carried himself, too cocky and self-assured. Or maybe it was his sly smirk that seemed to hint at something slightly predatory, looking at you in a way that felt less like affection or even lust and more like possession.

But maybe she was just thinking too hard and this was just a simple hookup you needed to shake off your shackles, put yourself back out there and never see the guy again.

That's what college life was. Hookup, discard, and repeat. Just another wild night to bank in your core memory.

And the night had certainly been beyond magic, and definitely home to one of the most intense orgasms you'd ever had, and when you thought back on it, that was one of the few times someone else managed to get you off...ever. But when you really took a moment to think about it, especially knowing what you know now, the more you chalked it up to probably being because of the drugs.

In actually, the frantically hot and spontaneous encounter that had you talking to God (very...interesting conversation) probably wouldn't have been that great if you were in your right mind, but your intoxicated hormones in the heat of the moment didn't care because it was a hell of a lot better than what you were used to.

Before that night, having big the 'O' during sex was like a myth to you.

Satisfaction either always narrowly escaped your grasp or was never on the table from the beginning, and for a while, you thought it was normal to always be left hot, bothered, and wanting more, ever since you first learned to do the horizontal dance.

Your own satisfaction was never a priority, never thought of or talked about, not even to yourself. With every partner, you made sure they were well taken care of, that they met sweet relief with heavy breaths and a smile on their sweaty faces every time. While your desires laid brushed aside, unspoken and unexplored.

But that night with Naoya was different—he was the first to turn the focus on you, the first time someone had taken care of you, even if it was grasping at straws.

He pined for your attention. He gave you effort. A night full of impulsivity, unpredictability, mystery, and challenge—all wrapped up in a flaming hot bow.

Everything you thought you lost, everything you thought you needed in a boyfriend.

Having one of those was a staple in high school that you missed out on because of your hectic and busy schedule on the road. So when you got to college, you sure knew how to pick them. Freshman year was a joke.

You went through one relationship and one 'situationship' before throwing in the towel in favor of hookups. At least those were less painful and had a clear deadline for when they would end.

No surprises, no heartaches, no one to blame. Just a mutual parting

But Naoya was something you simply could not walk away from, and by the way he stuck to you like glue for weeks, randomly popping up at your campus and whisking you away into his world for hours on end until you made him your boyfriend, neither could he.

Everything about being with Naoya was perfect.

His eagerness to chauffer his passenger princess around in his real-life Hot Wheel, taking you to the coolest spots, just like that night, and introducing you to all kinds of mesmerizing people. Always ending the night with feverish, snaking hot that groped your willing body into submission and made you feel more special than anyone else he could ever know.

His.

The ideal boyfriend: attentive and charismatic. A constant thrill.

A bit too much of a thrill.

Slowly, but surely merging into a slightly loose canon as unexpected droplets of a storm began to form. His charm and attention and lust and want and need for you were still there, but so were the cracks that gradually began to chip and show.

For one, Naoya wasn't in school, which was fine; instead, he called himself an entrepreneur. Though, exactly what he did was always a bit of a mystery.

His days were filled with handling sketchy 'business deals' and half-baked schemes that, over time, almost always failed and ended with him turning to you to help bail him out.

Your brains, your beauty, your sweet charm.

Whatever he could use to settle a deal and handle business.

It was what girlfriends did, you thought. Supporting your man was something you never second-guess, never even questioned as you knew he would have your back as much as you had his.

Until he didn't.

Having a habit of making big promises and diving headfirst into opportunities that almost always seemed too good to be true, that fearless confidence you fell in love with, once landed him in an embarrassing mess.

Weeks spent bragging about a "surefire" investment with one of his partners to not only end up in the red but also behind bars. And on the phone sounding like a kicked puppy. Asking you to bail him out.

It was the first time either of you had been thrust into such a serious situation, even if it was just a small charge, but Naoya swore it wasn't a big deal. Admitting that he had made mistakes but promising his intentions were pure.

"I did it for us," he said, voice lined with shame and apology, repeating that you deserved better but that he was trying—really trying—to give you everything you needed. So full of regret for even slightly jeopardizing what you two had built and you had never heard him so vulnerable and sorry as he promised it would never happen again.

Dragging your heart into the ground.

But as painful as it was to hear your boyfriend plead to save your relationship, nothing could have prepared you for the pain of swiping your card and watching the last of your savings disappear to keep it going.

Making up your mind that this was just another storm to weather amidst the whirlwind of hurricanes that was Naoya because he had been so good to you. Surely you could look over his idiotic mistake and help him out this one time. He only did it for you after all. 

To you, he had his quirks. To everyone else, he was shit.

But being there for him kind of reminded you of why you chose healthcare.

Your pocket vibrated, making you let go of your souvenir and memories of that night as you fished out your phone before sighing.

Speak of the Devil, you'd just thought him up.

"Hi, baby."

"Hey babe, how's my Doll?"

You relaxed on the bench, blushing. He sounded like he was in a good mood—always did when he used the little nickname he gave you that made you feel so small and safe.

Stress slowly left your body as you vented about work and how you were not looking forward to getting off only to clock right back in to study for your upcoming exam when you returned to your dorm.

"Aw, baby." You thought you could hear him pout through the phone. "How 'bout we blow off some steam when you're done? A little reward?"

You raised a brow. "Whatcha got in mind?" Hoping it wasn't the usual invitation to just 'solve your problems' with sex or some wild night on the town.

"One of the guys found his Nintendo 64, and I thought we could borrow it and play some games, ya?"

"Oooo," you sat up. "What games?" You hadn't had time to plop down in front of a TV to watch a show, let alone play a game in years.

"Uhh, mostly action, RPG and fantasy. Some kid games like Mario Kart and Lego Racers, but I was thinking we could 1V1 in J-League."

And suddenly, you were back in a familiar living room you hadn't seen in years.

Plush, brown carpet soft beneath your thighs, you sat cross-legged, Wii controller cool in your hands. Room dim, the glow of the TV casts flickering lights across your eyes as sounds of fast-paced music fill your ears.

Suguru nudges your shoulder, "C'mon keep up." And smiles.

And you gently smile back, feeling pulled into the waves of nostalgia. The memory and others alike always so soft, so easy. So comforting to fall into the world of one of the last times you two had fun together, before he made high school hell.

Now you were sure he was off somewhere traveling the world and living his best life.

Your life.

What it was supposed to be.

The walls were back up to shield you from the bittersweet ache.

Naoya was right. Mario Kart was for kids.

"You still there?"

"Ya, babe." You sighed to yourself, reminding yourself that those who needed to be in your life we're here now, not in the past. "I would love to. You're best." You smiled.

He laughs. "In bed, too."

..debatable.

extended angel's note: i hope you guys didn't mind the little "diversion" this story had to take (i am not in control) BUT i promise it all serves a purpose. your basket should be good and full with enough little easter eggs now to finally close out the story in part 3 where it all comes together to absolutely blow your angsty socks (and panties) off. it'll all be worth the wait (is highkey the morale of the story 🤠) thank you for rocking with me

p.s. sorry for the Naoya jumpscare but how are we all feeling about your lovely boyfriend 🤩💗

tag list: @7thsthings @elliesndg @jirishnesensei @blkkizzat

[milesmolasses]

I'm gonna kill you

miles morales x reader

if you don’t know what “throwing franks” means it basically means telling someone to “suck my dick” lmao

which reminds me the setting is nyc (bk)

is this what ppl call crack? idk man

"miles I'm not playin with you right now, put my water bottle down I'm thirsty!"

miles walked around the dingy restaurant, my bottle in his hand, which was waved high in the air. "you gon have to come and get it than miss smart mouth! you keep playin with me like I can't beat you up," he joked.

miles has been my best friend ever since the middle of third grade when he switched his elementary school. i remember when he was this tiny, shy kid who sat at the back of the school basement for lunchtime since our school never had a formal lunchroom. all i wanted was to make a new friend, so i walked up to the shy new boy and ate my lunch with him. we would walk home together, play at the park together, and have cute lil playdates scheduled by our mothers; ah, yes, those were the times; up until now.

"bro, my bad, just give me my water bottle my mouth is on fire, no funny shit," i had my tongue out, breathing heavily. my mom owns this restaurant, where she cooks (insert culture) dishes for the world of Brooklyn to enjoy. this space doubled as our hang-out spot, considering i would stop by every day after school for free food. my mom had served me (insert dish) with extra spice; "try something new," they said. "it'll be delicious," they said. while yes, the food was good, the new added spices had me steaming at the ears, tongue out, huffing and puffing like a damn dog.

now you may be wondering, "who the hell told you to do this?" miles. it was always miles. he knows I don't usually stray from the usual dishes that i get every time we come here, but somehow he convinced me that trying something new would be good for me. so, i let him order on my behalf; this dude ordered me (insert cultural food)… with 3x the amount of hot sauce I usually get. leading us to now...

"'my bad' is not an apology, bozo, i need to hear you say what i want you to say," he said with the biggest smile on his face. all i did was throw a frank at him, and he chose to torment me, saying, "i was disrespectful." he wants a sorry? imma give him a damn sorry.

"ok ok I'm sorry, miles please just give me the bottle," this time, my eyebrows were furrowed and i made sure to put my acting skills to the test. miles gave me a worried look, scared that he actually went too far this time in his games. he gave me back the water bottle and came closer to me, examining my face to see if i was ok.

"yo, you good? I'm sorry i didn't know it was that deep. here you go drink this," he looked so sorry. he looked like he really regretted what he did to me, it almost made me feel bad for what i was about to say to him.

almost...

"yeah, it was that deep... deep in ya momma!" i watched as miles face slowly converted from looking worried to "what did this bitch just say to me?" i started to run out of the store as fast as i could, chugging the water down my throat with my mouth still on fire. miles was definitely faster than me, so i decided to hide somewhere, anywhere.

i turned the corner, body jerking forward so fast i almost fell face first into the concrete. i caught myself on my hands just in time as i kept my momentum and ran down the block. i looked behind me and he was literally right there in arms reach of me literally, reaching his arm out to grab me. i grabbed the door handle of an unknown store and stumbled into it.

there i could see several women and young girls look up from what ever they were doing to look at me. just as they were looking at me, miles ran in the store and came to an abrupt stop. great now even more people were staring; it was then i realized all the assortments of nail polish laid out neatly on different shelves. oh my god it was a nail salon. miles looked down at me with eyes wide open and a look on his face that screamed "oh hell nah." a lady from the front desk with a slim figure and a headwrap, came up to us and pulled us to the side.

"I'm sorry, you cant just run into this store and be rowdy. we have customers to attend to and they don't need disturbances." i looked up at miles to see him already responding to the lady with prayer hands, "I an so sorry about my friend here please forgive them, sometimes they're a bit hard to control. i think we'll be leaving now, once again, so sorry," he responded whilst dragging me by the shirt to leave the salon. once we were on the side walk again, i busted out laughing so hard, i had to hunch over and close my eyes to keep tears from falling out.

miles gave me the biggest side eye known to man as i laughed in the middle of the street, looking around for people possibly staring at us.

"i swear to god I'm gonna kill you when i get to your house."

this was fun to write lmao

I was really just writing anything that came to mind

I did this once after 7th grade in the summer with some friends so that’s what I based this on

[taechaos]

Ok ok you’re a sweetheart “baby writer” anon here, odd nickname but we will go forward. I thank you for saying i have a way with words :,) that will be on my mind forever now. I am curious though.. has yn ever been close to breaking up with bully!jk? or she made a futile attempt before he panicked. Maybe where he took the bullying and teasing a bit far for instance? i love to see confident yn since its really different to doormat yn — btw if you’ve written this i apologize!

Dear Baby Writer anon, I am very pleased to hear we have the same effect on each other with our words 😤❤ i love the nickname and now we shall proceed to play out ur cool ass idea bc oc never did directly try to break up w him 👀

a lil angsty????

It has been two hours. Two hours of waiting outside, hugging your jacket to yourself because of the chilly autumn weather, and there are still no responses to your texts nor calls. Absolutely no signs of Jungkook, your boyfriend who agreed to celebrate your first month anniversary with you but still hasn't shown up. It is the early stages of your relationship and kissing him without reason, approaching him whenever, and exchanging affection has been the best parts of your days. Every emotion you have has been amplified.

Including your feeling of betrayal. Your teeth are chattering, goosebumps travel and cover every inch of your skin, and the reason you didn't dress warmly was because you wanted to look nice for him. You were also supposed to be engulfed by the warmth of his embrace and the heating of the restaurant you reserved a booth in, but no such luck. Only the harsh wind accompanies you.

He was supposed to be here.

Initially, you were worried. Did he get into an accident? Was he hospitalized? Is he okay? These thoughts still consume you and translate into little needles prickling your heart, but anger came to your rescue and swallowed as much anxiety as it could. So now you're left wondering where he stands in this relationship.

Because he lets you kiss him; he lets you approach him; he returns your hugs; he accepts the homework you'd so kindly done for him. But he doesn't pick up. He doesn't answer. He doesn't take you seriously.

You have to thank your anger for ridding your worries, because then you notice a silhouette walking down the streets before revealing themselves under the streetlight. Jungkook is fine. Great, even, as he takes big strides in your general direction without even so much as a scratch on his face. Speaking of his face—why does he appear so nonchalant? Has he not realized you'd practically caught a cold waiting here for him?

"Hey," he greets with a hand in pocket and a cigarette in the other. You have to stop yourself from gaping at him.

Upon seeing him, you're obviously relieved and slightly excited, but when his first instinct isn't to apologize.... an unknown feeling blossoms. Maybe it's confusion, or hurt. You can't really tell right now because your pulse is racing already.

You speak in a small voice, and a cloud of fog follows as you say, "Hi."

His eyes run up and down your outfit and a smirk grows on his face. "You ditched the high school skirt for a mini skirt, huh?" He doesn't comment on your shaking legs.

You glance down at his comment and awkwardly chuckle, "Oh, yeah." While he's still checking you out, you decide to tackle the issue right off the bat. "Um... where have you been?"

"I was with some friends," he says honestly. It is when he takes a couple of steps towards you that you get a whiff of a peculiar smell other than tobacco. Herbs. Then he gets closer, and you see the redness in his eyes. "What about you?"

"Are you high?"

There is a shift in his stance, presumably from surpise. He wasn't expecting to hear that. His brows raise, "A bit, yeah. I would've invited you, but I don't think it's your type of thing."

You completely disregard his words. "I was waiting here for two hours," you calmly tell him with furrowed eyebrows, "while you were getting high?"

Thank you, anger.

"Why the fuck would you wait out here that long? I could've texted you to come."

"You weren't replying to my texts." You don't know if you should feel mad or puzzled; he is rather dense right now.

"Oh," he takes out his phone to check his notifications but the screen doesn't light up. He presses the home button a couple of times and nothing happens. "I ran out of battery," he explains with a shrug, "and besides, cannabis makes you lose track of time. But I guess they don't teach you that in Biology."

A simple apology would've sufficed. He could've said sorry and made it up to you over dinner, but instead he chose to mock your major. Maybe it was foolish to think he'd be nicer to you after declaring his love for you on multiple occasions, but at least you've grown used to his vicious ways.

"I am not going out with you while you're high."

The assertive tone of your voice doesn't get through to him; he finds it amusing, rather. "Yet you fucked me while I was high," he teasingly reminds you of the night you dragged him in a random bedroom during a party. "Are you suggesting we go in, then?" He gestures to your dorm building.

You stammer at his insinuation. "N-No, my roommate is inside."

"Since when do you care about an audience?"

Now he's referring to the handjob you gave Jimin while he watched. You try to drown out the flash of memories that cause your gut to twist and churn; that day is on the top five of worst days you've ever had. You don't appreciate him bringing it up.

"I have to go. Good night, Jungkook," you decide to leave before you say something you'll regret. He is testing your patience both metaphorically and literally today. The way that memory makes you feel is inexplicable and nothing can describe how horrible you'd felt that time.

You don't get very far when he approaches you again. "Wait, what about our date?"

"I cancelled our reservation," you coldly inform. "They close in an hour anyway."

"There are other restaurants, you know."

"I am not in the mood," you chide. He is treating you like you don't know any place outside of campus; as if you're stupid and can't grasp the concept of the real world. You keep walking.

He lightly scoffs. Maybe he thinks you're being dramatic, but it's small things like this that remind you of his inconsideration towards you and your time. At least you're putting in the effort to not blow it out of proportion. "You know I'm busy tomorrow," he says.

"Bummer," you mutter spitefully.

He catches your wrist to stop you in your tracks. You avoid his gaze when he turns you to himself. "What's up with you? You're acting like you haven't done dozens of my homework to get the slightest bit of attention from me. Now you're turning it down?"

With a deep breath, you look up to see his frustrated expression. He has no right to be frustrated with you and it gets on your nerves. You try your best to control yourself nonetheless, "We can reschedule. It's too late now."

"Because you're wasting time trying to argue with me, silly girl," he chuckles silently. "There is a place I know–"

"No, Jungkook," you finally speak up, "you blew it because you came late and high. I would be understanding if you had something important to do or even just apologized, but you're not taking me seriously."

He blinks. You don't think he is fazed by your words. "You don't seem to take yourself seriously either if you've been standing out here for two hours just to leave," he deadpans with a quirked brow.

The sly remarks are your final straw. You raise your voice. "Yes," you agree with a nod, "I was putting myself before you because I take this relationship seriously, which you don't seem to reciprocate. Do you even want to be with me?"

Confusion washes over his hardened features. "Why would I be here if I didn't want to be with you?" he deflects.

"It's a yes or no question," you press. You need to know now before you invest yourself further into him, or even continue this... argument?

"I thought you were smarter than this," he belittles you, but you think you caught a hint of panic in his voice. He must find it difficult to articulate his feelings without pushing you away. This time, you're not going to chase. You aren't going to force him to stay with you if he isn't emotionally available. "Clearly, I do if I'm still trying to take you out. So the answer to your question is yes, yes I want to be with you. Do you want to be with me?" He's expecting you to say yes so he can convince you to go out with him already.

But you just stare at him. At first it seems like you don't want to give him the satisfaction, but then your expression turns dejected. His confidence in your answer dwindles and surely enough, there's a glint of nervousness in his eyes. He quietly calls your name, but it comes out as a question.

"Of course I want to be with you," you break your silence with a sigh. "But I don't believe you. You make me feel like a victim sometimes."

"What?"

"It's true," you dismiss his incredulous reaction. "You bully me more than you show me affection. I don't think you're ready for–"

"I'm going to kill you if you're breaking up with me over something so minor," he rasps, but you can see his fingers start to tremble at his sides. He hasn't taken a single puff of his cigarette that has accumulated ash down to the filter. "I was late and I'm so very fucking sorry–"

"This isn't about you being late! You are belittling me for being hurt and need I mention you teased me for wanting to celebrate our anniversary in the first place!" You heave a shaky breath because lashing out isn't something you do often, if not at all. "You make me feel so stupid, like I'm in the wrong every time something happens, and you bring up a traumatizing event for me like you're talking about the weather. You just... go too far sometimes," you finish with a murmur to yourself. Your heart is pounding in your ears, and there's a knot in your throat because of how nervous you feel.

A moment of silence passes. He is just standing there, nibbling on his lips like he can't think of something to say. And then you truly see his panic when you timidly glance at him: his redshot eyes are frantically searching for something, anything to escape this situation. He wasn't prepared. He is anxiously scratching the back of his palm, but he is still well composed because of the lingering effects of whatever he'd smoked before coming here. "Um..."

You wait for him with a soft gaze to try and indirectly calm him down. It doesn't work.

"I, um, I get it," he lamely says and swallows hard. He is looking back at you now with wide, fearful eyes. Any trace of his former demeanor has vanished, and it is as if he is looking up at you rather than the other way around due to his towering stature. "You are upset with me," his voice wavers and you gently nod. "Why– How... How can I fix this?"

Slowly, you tell him, "Think it over tonight."

"I... I don't want to. I don't want to think about that—like, breaking up." His whole body is trembling, partially from the cold and partially from this discussion. It's not an argument, he hopelessly thinks. "You said you want to be with me. When do you want to be with me?"

"What do you mean when?"

"Like, when I'm nice, do you want to be with me? Or always? I'm sorry, this sounds so fucking stupid," he shakes his head and contemplates his choice of words. "Do you... not like me when I tease you?"

"That's not it," you involuntarily pout. "I always like you."

"Please don't end it then," he pleads in a breath. "I didn't mean to come late. I got high to calm my nerves. This is new to me," he groans helplessly. "I don't know how to act around you, so I come off as mean and... heartless, I guess. I thought since you started liking me when I treated you like shit, I should keep at it. But I really don't know what to do or say. Please... Help me fix this. I'm sorry."

His sincerity is backed up by his tense stance and glossy, sad eyes. His pleas don't go unheard, but you are level-headed. Your words aren't influenced by any substances like him. "I don't like that you don't treat me like your girlfriend. I don't like that you don't prioritize me like I do you. I need to know you value me more than drugs, because I'm fine with you using me but pretending you love me... hurts more."

"It's real!" He's alarmed in his defence. "I would never pretend, it's– it's genuine– my love is genuine, I mean. I'm scared of doing or saying the wrong thing, that's why I'm like this." He hesitantly reaches for your hand that is hugging your opposite arm for protection from the cruel weather. You let him hold it in his freezing one. His fingertips and knuckles are red. "I'm trying. It won't happen again, o-okay? We can work this out. Please don't leave."

"I don't know..."

"Let's just keep talking, yeah? There's a place nearby—not a restaurant—where we can spend the night together. It could make for a sweet anniversary, right?"

The idea does sound appealing, and he visibly relaxes when your lips tug up to a shy smile. He continues, "We can eat there, and they have drinks too. N-Not just alcohol!"

You playfully narrow your eyes at him and stay quiet for a few seconds. "Fine," you eventually give in and jab a finger at his chest. "If you mess this up too, I swear..."

"I'm a changed man," he puffs out his chest before grinning. "I'll show you lots of affection tonight."

[dadbodosamu]

only you || part v

Stepdad!Osamu x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: spit, semi-public sex, alcohol, oral (f+m receiving), male masturbation, female masturbation, daddy kink, breeding kink, squirting, hair pulling, cum eating

5.6k words

part i || part ii || part iii || part iv || part v || part vi || extras || only you, too

“Can’t I just stay the night?” Atsumu groaned as he got dressed.

“We’re going out tonight,” Osamu said, throwing Atsumu’s shirt at him.

You rolled over in the bed, pulling the blanket over your nude form. You propped yourself up on your elbow, appreciating Osamu’s strong body as he pulled his boxers up.

“Good morning, baby,” Osamu said, smiling as he leaned down to peck your lips.

“Mmm, morning,” you hummed. “What time is it?”

“Five in the afternoon,” he said. “You only slept for a few hours.”

You nodded, stretching out and yawning. “I’m going to shower,” you mumbled, sitting up.

You looked at Atsumu, who was still standing in your room.

“What?” He asked, finally noticing you staring at him.

“Get out,” you said, gesturing towards the door.

“Like I wasn’t just balls deep in yer pussy,” he grumbled, crossing his arms and walking out.

“Like you didn’t nearly cum in your pants while I choked you!” You called after him. You smiled as you heard him grumbling from the hallway.

“Ya okay?” Osamu asked.

You shrugged as you stood up on wobbly legs. “A little sore.”

You took a step towards your bathroom and your knees buckled. Thankfully, Osamu managed to grab your waist before you could fall.

“Let me help ya,” he said, holding you steady as you shakily walked to the bathroom. He sat you on the edge of the tub as he started the shower.

“I’ve got it from here,” you said. Your legs shook as you stood up but they stayed under you.

“Call if ya need me,” Osamu said, helping you into the shower.

You showered quickly. You brushed your teeth and fixed your hair before joining the twins in the living room.

“You never said where we were going tonight,” you said, curling up by Osamu on the couch. “How should I dress?”

“Casual,” he said, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer. “What you’re wearing now is fine.”

You glanced down at the sundress you were wearing. It was longer than your other one, so it already had Osamu’s stamp of approval.

You nodded and rested your head on his shoulder.

“We’re getting dinner? Great, where are we going?” Atsumu asked, plopping down next to you.

“We’re getting dinner and yer goin’ home,” Osamu said.

“Worth a try,” Atsumu said, shrugging. “Kiss goodbye?”

“I’m gonna kick yer ass,” Osamu said. Atsumu stood with a smirk.

“Not even a lil one?” Atsumu said. You smiled and stood up, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Don’t forget to cover that bruise on your throat,” you said, sitting back down. Atsumu whipped out his phone, swearing loudly when he saw the hand-shaped bruise across his neck.

“Damn it, what am I supposed to tell the boys?” Atsumu asked.

You shrugged as you cuddled into Osamu’s side.

“That you like getting choked by cute girls?” You suggested. “Nothing to be ashamed of.”

Atsumu groaned out a goodbye as he left.

Osamu pulled you into his lap and peppered kisses on your face as you giggled.

“Not that I don’t like it, but what was that for?” You asked, smiling after he kissed your lips.

“What, I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” Osamu asked, kissing your nose again. “Just wanna remind ya who ya belong to.”

“Never forgot,” you said, pecking his lips. “Need I remind you whose name I was moaning the whole time?”

You cupped his face and peppered him with kisses. “I love you, Miya Osamu.”

“I love ya,” Osamu said, kissing your lips one more time. “Let me go get dressed and we can go eat.”

“I guess I can let you go,” you said, moving off his lap. You laid on the couch, watching him walk down the hallway.

You checked your phone, responding to a few messages from your school friends and checking your socials. As expected, your mom’s ‘it’s complicated’ status had garnered a lot of attention. Comments ranging from ‘oh, i’m sorry sweetie’ to ‘i never liked him anyway’ to, to your joy, ‘he was too young for you anyway, don’t you have a daughter his age?’.

You cackled as you scrolled through the comments. Your mom had even responded to some, stating ‘he knows what he did’. You rolled your eyes and closed your facebook.

“Ready?” Osamu asked, stepping in front of you.

“When you are,” you said.

The restaurant was small and cozy, with the scent of fresh bread filling the air. You smiled as Osamu led you to a table in a secluded corner, pulling out your seat for you before sitting across from you.

“Everything here is fantastic,” Osamu said as you read over the menu. “My friend from uni runs this place, he’s almost a better chef than I am.”

“Almost?” You questioned. “So humble, Osamu.”

“Miya-kun!” A man exclaimed, rushing towards your table.

“Takahashi-kun,” Osamu greeted, smiling at the man.

“It’s been a while!” Takahashi said. “This the wife?”

You winced.

“Ah, not yet,” Osamu said. “I’m actually in the process of getting a divorce. This is my girlfriend, L/n Y/n.”

You smiled widely. “Hi, nice to meet you,” you said.

“Nice to meet you! It’s nice that you managed to get Miya to drag you out here, he rarely makes time to come visit his old friends,” Takahashi said. “I think I met the wife once? Maybe twice.”

“I have my own restaurant to run,” Osamu said. Takahashi rolled his eyes. “You can also visit me.”

“I have my own restaurant to run,” Takahashi said with a small laugh. “Speaking of, what can I start you off with?”

Your food came out quickly. Takahashi made polite conversation before leaving you two by yourselves.

“So, tell me about your childhood,” you said. “I feel like we only ever talk about me.”

“What do ya wanna know?” Osamu asked, taking a bite of his rice.

“What are your parents like?” You asked.

“My ma raised us alone,” Osamu said. He smiled before continuing. “Our dad wasn’t that great, he left when we were still babies.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said.

Osamu shrugged. “He wasn’t a great guy, anyway. Leaving was probably the best thing he ever did for us. He used to abuse my ma. He tried to come back when Tsumu and I were in high school, but we ran him off.”

“Ran him off?” You asked.

“He got a lil too hands-on with ma, and Tsumu and I kicked his ass out the door and told him not to come back,” Osamu said. “And that was the last time we saw him.”

You hummed. “Good for you, then.”

“But yeah, ma raised us by herself, never remarried or anything. She worked two jobs just to support us and put us through volleyball,” Osamu said. “But she never missed a game.”

“She sounds great,” you said, taking a sip of your drink.

“She is,” Osamu said, smiling fondly. “I can’t wait for ya to meet her.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” you said, smiling. “Tell me something else, I want to know everything.”

Osamu smiled at you before reaching across the table and grabbing your free hand.

“Tsumu and I have always been really competitive,” Osamu started. You smiled at him as he spoke.

“I really enjoyed the food,” you told Takahashi as he cleared off your table. “And thank you for the dessert, it was amazing.

“Anything for a friend!” Takahashi exclaimed, stacking the two empty plates in his hands. “And don’t worry about the bill, consider it on the house.”

“I owe you one,” Osamu said.

“I’ll take salted salmon onigiri and your miso soup any day of the week,” Takahashi said, smiling widely. “It was nice meeting you, and Miya-kun, it was nice seeing you again. Don’t be a stranger!”

“I’ll try to come by more often,” Osamu said. You both stood after Takahashi disappeared into the kitchen. Osamu grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the restaurant.

“That was nice,” you said, swinging yours and Osamu’s arms.

“It was,” Osamu agreed. “What do ya want to do now?”

“I don’t know, do you have anything in mind?” You asked.

“There’s a club I like that’s not too far from here,” Osamu said.

“That sounds fun,” you said, smiling. “You’re buying the first round of drinks.”

“Deal,” Osamu said. He stopped abruptly, tugging you into his chest and leaning down. “I love ya.” He pecked your lips.

“You keep saying that like the world’ll end if you don’t,” you teased, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him again.

“Jus’ don’t want ya to forget,” Osamu mumbled. “Gotta remind ya.”

“I think it’s sweet,” you said. You intertwined your fingers with his and brought his hand up to your lips. “I love you, too.”

You smiled as Osamu handed you a glass.

“One vodka cran for my princess,” he said, sliding into the booth next to you.

“Thank you,” you said. You took a sip of your drink and made a face. “A little light on the cran.”

“Lightweight,” Osamu teased. He tossed back his glass of whiskey and shivered. “Ugh.”

“Lightweight,” you mocked, elbowing his side. You downed your drink. “Dance with me?”

“Of course, anything my princess wants,” Osamu said. He pulled you out of the booth and onto the dance floor.

Osamu’s hands rested on your hips as you ground against him. It wasn’t long before Osamu was turning you around, pulling you against his body as his hips moved to the beat. Your bodies moved together, grinding and bumping against each other as the two of you felt the rhythm.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to face you.

“Ya look like a goddess,” Osamu breathed in your ear. “Every guy in this club has his eyes on ya.”

You let out a shaky moan as Osamu’s hips dragged against yours.

“Come on,” Osamu mumbled, pulling you through the dancing bodies.

Osamu led you into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. He sat you on the edge of the sink, lips slotting against yours sloppily.

“Samu,” you said, running your hands up his shirt as he pushed your dress up around your waist. “Wanna feel you.”

“Later, princess,” he said, pushing his jeans down just enough to release his cock. “Gotta be in ya.”

He tugged your panties to the side and pressed the head of his cock flush against your entrance.

“I love ya,” he said, pecking your lips before pushing into you. You let out a high moan as he stretched you.

“Gen-gentle,” you stuttered. “Still sore from earlier.”

“Oh, princess, I got ya,” Osamu said, tip kissing your cervix. He held you tightly against him as he slowly thrusted into you. You moaned softly as you rested your head against his chest.

“Love ya so much, jus’ wanna fill ya with my babies,” Osamu said. You moaned, wrapping your legs around him and pulling him in deeper.

“Love you,” you moaned, kissing his neck. Osamu reached between you and rubbed your clit slowly, in time with his thrusts.

“Not gonna last,” he groaned. The fingers on your clit sped up. “Cream around my cock, princess.”

Your hands clenched in Osamu’s shirt as your stomach tightens. Your thighs trembled as you moaned in his ear.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Osamu groaned. His cock twitched as your walls clamped around him. You came with a soft moan, burying your face in his neck as Osamu filled you with cum.

“Samu,” you whined as he pulled out. A mix of yours and his cum slowly leaked out of your stretched hole.

“Hold on,” Osamu said, kneeling in front of you. He tossed your legs over his shoulders and licked a bold stripe up your cum coated folds.

“Osamu!” You exclaimed, legs twitching as his tongue licked deep into your hole. You moaned as he ate you out like a man starved, slurping up cum and spreading your pussy lips with his fingers to lick deeper.

“Taste so good with my cum leakin’ outta ya,” Osamu moaned. He stood up and kissed you, pushing cum into your waiting mouth. You moaned and swallowed instinctively.

You hummed and kissed him again. “Mmm, thank you,” you mumbled against his lips.

“Come on, I’m about ready to get ya outta that dress,” Osamu said, lifting you off the sink. Your legs shook as you stood up, and Osamu wrapped his arm around you to keep you steady.

“Let’s go home,” you said, smiling at him.

“Baby, no,” Osamu groaned as you sat up in your bed. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you back down against his chest.

“We’re supposed to meet the boys in an hour,” you said, struggling to escape Osamu’s iron grip around you. “I need to shower and get my stuff together.”

“Can’t we just cancel?” Osamu asked, holding you tighter. “Just, I wanna spend the day with ya. We can do whatever ya want.”

“Baby, we still have three free days before my mom gets back,” you said. “Let’s just go play this game and then we can come back home and spend the rest of the day in bed.”

Osamu pouted but let you go.

“Thank you,” you said, crawling over him. You pecked his lips before you rolled out of bed. “Come shower with me?”

Osamu was up immediately, following you to your bathroom.

Your shower lasted longer than it should’ve, thanks to Osamu. As soon as the water hit your body, his lips were glued to your skin, his hands on your waist. Before you knew it, you were pressed against the cool, shower wall as he fucked you from behind.

“We’re gonna be late,” you complained as you got dressed.

“Didn’t hear ya complainin’ when ya were cummin’ ‘round my cock, princess,” Osamu said, kissing your head.

You swatted him away, glaring at him.

“You’re insatiable,” you grumbled, tossing a pair of black spandex shorts in your gym bag.

“I’ll show ya insatiable,” he said, hugging you from behind. His hand slipped down the front of your skirt, teasing the edge of your panties as he sucked on your neck.

“Samu, no,” you said, making no move to push him off. You bucked against his hand as his fingers circled your clit.

“Come on, baby,” Osamu mumbled, lips pressed against your skin. “Let me make ya cum one more time.”

You huffed. “Five minutes, then we’re leaving.”

“More than enough.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto exclaimed, hugging you tightly as you walked onto the court.

“Bokkun!” You exclaimed, smiling widely as he spun you around.

“Y/n-chan!” Hinata exclaimed, hugging you as soon as Bokuto sat you down.

“My favourite niece!” Atsumu shouted, running across the court to greet you. Sakusa followed after him, offering you a casual nod as Atsumu hugged you.

“I might as well not even be here,” Osamu said, crossing his arms.

“Osamu-kun!” Hinata exclaimed, throwing himself at the man. Osamu immediately caught him, and tossed him back on his feet.

“Just a hello would’ve been fine,” Osamu said.

You giggled as he walked over to you, gluing himself to your side.

“Let us go change and we can get started,” you said.

“Locker rooms are that way,” Sakusa said, pointing towards the end of the gym. “Hope you don’t mind using the men’s, the women’s is locked up today.”

“It’s fine,” you said, shrugging. You followed Osamu into the locker rooms and changed quickly.

“Hey,” Osamu called before you could walk out. You turned towards him. “I love ya.” He pecked your lips before following you out of the locker rooms.

“Okay, let’s play!” You exclaimed, clapping your hands together.

Hinata whooped loudly as he jogged towards you.

“We’re gonna crush them!” He exclaimed. Bokuto high fived you both as Osamu joined Atsumu and Sakusa.

“Let’s warm up first,” you said, smiling.

You stretched out, rolling your shoulders before getting into position. You set a few balls for both boys before Sakusa called for the game to start.

The game lasted five sets, your team winning three of them. After Hinata scored the last point, Bokuto pulled you into a tight hug, spinning you around.

“Aha! Suck it!” You shouted once Bokuto put you down. Atsumu flipped you off, smiling regardless.

“We let you win,” Osamu said, ducking under the net. You rolled your eyes as he pulled you into a hug.

“Oh, sure,” you said.

“No hugging the enemy!” Atsumu exclaimed. Sakusa slapped him on the back of the head before hugging you quickly.

“You’re good, probably better than Atsumu,” Sakusa said. You smiled widely.

“Thanks,” you said as Osamu wrapped his arm around your waist. Bokuto and Hinata both gave you a look.

“I have something to tell ya,” Osamu said. You cocked an eyebrow as you looked up at him. “M/n and I are getting a divorce.”

“Finally,” Bokuto groaned. “I couldn’t take her hitting on me every time we saw each other.”

“So, you’re with her daughter now?” Sakusa asked. Your face heated up as Osamu nodded.

“And this isn’t just you trying to get back at her for trying to sleep with us?” Sakusa asked.

“No, I love Y/n,” Osamu said, glancing down at you with a smile.

“And I love you,” you said.

“As sweet as that is, isn’t it a little fast?” Sakusa asked.

“Probably,” you said. “But who cares? My mom’ll probably be remarried by the end of the year.”

“We know the relationship is a little taboo,” Osamu said, “but we just can’t help it.”

“Pay up,” Hinata said, grinning widely as he held his hand out to Bokuto.

“Fuck you,” Bokuto grumbled, handing a bill over to Hinata.

“What exactly did you two bet on?” You asked.

“When you two would get together,” Hinata said. “Bokuto-kun bet it would be the next time you visited.”

“Should’ve known Osamu-kun would move fast,” Bokuto said, hair drooping.

“Atsumu obviously already knew,” Sakusa said. Atsumu smiled widely.

“It’s a twin thing,” he said.

“Shut up, you literally caught us,” you said, shoving the blond twin.

“But it was my twin senses which led me to catching you,” Atsumu said. You rolled your eyes.

“Anyway, lunch?” You asked.

“Baby, you promised,” Osamu groaned as you sat up in bed.

“Promised what?” You asked, stretching your arms out.

“We could spend one of our days in bed,” Osamu said, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you back down.

“One, I never promised that,” you said. “And two, I need to pee. Then I’ll come right back to bed.”

“Fine,” Osamu said, pouting. He released you from his hold. You hopped up and walked to the bathroom. You showered quickly and brushed your teeth before redressing in your pajamas (Osamu’s t-shirt and a pair of his boxers).

“Ya take too long,” Osamu grumbled as you crawled back into your bed. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest.

“I took ten minutes to shower and wash off, sue me,” you said, rolling your eyes.

Osamu rolled over, pulling you on top of him. “Why wash off when I’m about to make ya dirty again?”

You laughed. “That was so bad, Samu.”

Osamu pushed your shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor. He grabbed your breasts, squeezing them and teasing your nipples with his fingers.

“Samu,” you moaned, running your hands over his broad chest. “Let me.”

Osamu pulled his hands away from your skin as you leaned down. Your plush lips wrapped around his left nipple, your tongue teasing the cool, metal barbell as you pinched his other nipple with your fingers.

“Fuck,” Osamu hissed, lowly. His back arched as your free hand drifted to his half hard dick. You palmed him through his boxers, heart racing as you felt him harden beneath your touch.

You pulled back, a string of saliva still connecting you to Osamu. You pinched his swollen, spit-covered nipple, drawing out a high pitched moan from him as you switched to the other.

“Baby,” Osamu breathed, tugging your hair as you suckled his nipple. You hummed in response. “Feels good.”

You smiled against his skin as you continued to palm him. You pushed his boxers down, freeing his cock. You pulled away, straddling him.

“Wanna watch you,” you said, running your hands over his soft stomach.

“Watch me what, baby?” He asked, settling his hands on your hips.

“Wanna watch you get off,” you said. “Please, Samu, I wanna watch you touch yourself.”

“Why would I do that when yer right here?” He asked, moving your hips so you ground against his cock.

“Please,” you begged. “Please, I wanna know what you look like when you’re getting yourself off. Please, daddy, for me.”

Osamu sighed. “Fine, just for ya, princess.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you said, leaning down and kissing him. You moved off of him, watching as he kicked his boxers off.

Osamu wrapped his hand around the base of his cock and let out a shaky breath. He pumped himself once, twice before letting his free hand drift to his puffy nipples.

“Y/n,” he moaned, softly as you leaned back, pushing your hand under the waistband of Osamu’s boxers you were wearing.

“I’m right here, baby,” you said, reaching out with your free hand to touch his shoulder. He relaxed at your touch and pumped his length slowly.

“Doesn’t feel like ya,” Osamu whined as he thumbed his slit. You pressed two fingers against your clit as he gathered precum on his thumb.

“Let me taste,” you said, grabbing his arm. He lifted his hand to your face, letting you suck his thumb into your mouth, licking the precum away.

“Just want ya to touch me,” Osamu said as you hollowed your cheeks around his thumb.

“After you get yourself off,” you said, rubbing your clit in slow circles. Osamu whined as you let out a soft moan.

“Samu,” you moaned, rubbing your clit. “Let me see you.”

Osamu gripped his cock once again. Precum leaked down the side as he slowly pumped himself.

“Baby, take ‘em off,” he said, tugging at the boxers you were wearing. You pushed them down and spread your legs as Osamu watched you dip your fingers into your wet heat.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pinching his nipple and pumping his length faster. His thumb teased the metal barbell as he moaned.

“Samu,” you said, holding your wet fingers up to his face. He groaned at the scent and sucked your fingers into his mouth, licking them clean as he gently squeezed his balls.

“Please, please, I want you to touch me,” he moaned as you pulled your fingers away. You pushed his hands away and straddled him. His cock slotted neatly in your wet folds as you ground against him. You moaned as the head of his cock rubbed against your clit.

“So fuckin’ wet,” Osamu groaned, intertwining your fingers with his. “Just for me, isn’t that right, baby?”

“Just for you,” you moaned, rolling your hips furiously.

“Let me fuck ya,” he said. “Need to be in yer sweet cunt.”

You shook your head. “Sore from yesterday.”

Osamu’s head fell back with a groan. “And with any luck ya will be sore the rest of yer life.”

“Just- just cockwarming,” you said. Osamu nodded and carefully slid the tip into your wet heat.

“Son ofa bitch,” Osamu swore as your gummy walls clenched around him. He slowly bottomed out as you moaned in his ear.

“Oh,” you moaned as his fat cock stretched and molded your cunt. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your forehead against his. “Feels so good.”

“Takin’ my cock so well,” Osamu breathed. He wrapped his arms around you and leaned back against the headboard, holding you closely. “Good girl.”

Your walls tightened at his praise. You sighed as you rested against Osamu’s chest.

“I want this forever,” you mumbled.

“My cock?”

“You, dummy,” you said, smiling as you looked up at him. “I want you forever.”

“Ya can’t say shit like that,” Osamu said, rolling his hips. “Makes me wanna flip ya over and put yer ankles over my shoulders.”

“Do it,” you challenged. Osamu groaned as he flipped you over.

“Yer askin’ for it, lil girl,” he said, pushing your knees up to your chest. You moaned as he pulled out, only to snap his hips against your ass.

“Samu!” You exclaimed as he split you open over his cock.

“I love ya, baby,” he grunted, grabbing your ankles. You cried out as he spread your legs out. You fisted the sheets beneath you as he pounded into you.

“L-Love you,” you stuttered. His cock hit every spot in you, without trying. The cool metal that teased your walls only added to the stimulation.

“Want ya to squirt all over my cock, baby,” he said, putting one of your legs over his shoulder as he reached down to slap your clit. You squealed as he slapped it again before rubbing two fingers over it.

“S-Samu!” You cried as he pulled out. He grabbed your ankles with one hand and pushed them up, folding you in half.

“Such a cute, lil pussy,” he cooed, rubbing his fingers down your slit. Your walls fluttered around nothing. “She’s just cryin’ fer me.”

“Samu, please,” you cried. Osamu leaned down and spat directly in your hole before shoving three fingers in you.

“Clenchin’ ‘round my fingers like a whore,” he said. “Ya want my cock, baby?”

“Please, please!” You moaned loudly. “Samu, please, I want your cock in me!”

“Oh?” He asked, pressing the head of his cock against your clenching hole. He ran the head through your folds, pausing to tease your swollen clit and fluttering hole.

“Daddy!” You cried. “Daddy, I want it!”

Osamu pushed forward, shoving his cock in your tight core. You moaned as he bottomed out, the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix.

“Does my baby feel better with daddy’s cock in her?” Osamu cooed, dropping your legs on his shoulders.

You nodded. “Love daddy’s cock in me,” you moaned.

“I know, baby,” Osamu said. “Ya were made to take my cock. Isn’t that right, princess? Yer just a sweet, lil cocksleeve, meant to take daddy’s cock whenever he wants.”

“‘m jus’ daddy’s cocksleeve,” you moaned. “I was made to take daddy’s cock.”

“Good girl,” Osamu praised, slowly thrusting into you. “Yer gonna be my lil housewife, pregnant with my babies.”

You moaned, unable to speak as Osamu shoved three of his fingers in your mouth.

“Suck,” he ordered. You hollowed your cheeks, tears running down your cheeks as you gagged on his fingers. “Good girl.”

“Wanna be your good, little, housewife,” you moaned as he pulled his fingers away.

“Aw, baby, ya will be,” he said. He reached down to circle your clit. “Cream around my cock, baby.”

“Daddy,” you whined as your stomach tightened. Osamu thrusted into you harder. You cried out as your walls clamped around him, juices gushing.

“There’s my girl,” Osamu said, continuing to thrust into you. You whimpered as his cock twitched inside you.

“Cum in me, daddy, please,” you begged. “Breed me, breed me, I want you to fill me up!”

“Gonna give ya my babies,” he grunted. Osamu moaned loudly as your walls fluttered around him, finally milking an orgasm from him. His balls tightened as he filled you up. Cum dripped down your skin as he fucked you through his orgasm.

“Too much, too much,” you whined as Osamu rubbed your clit.

“Just one more,” he said. You whined as he pulled out. Quickly, before his cum could leak out, he pushed his fingers in you.

“Samu!” You whimpered as his thumb rubbed over your overly sensitive clit.

“Come on,” he grunted, rubbing your clit faster. You moaned loudly.

“Samu, Samu, Samu!” You moaned. He leaned down and wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking harshly as he fingered you.

“Cum in my mouth, princess,” he murmured. Your thighs shook as his tongue pressed against your clit.

“Samu!” You exclaimed as you squirted into his open mouth. A mixture of your juices and his cum dripped onto the sheets and down Osamu’s chin.

“That’s my good girl,” Osamu said, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

“You’re too much,” you huffed, relaxing into the bed. Osamu smiled at you as he laid next to you.

“Breakfast in bed?” He asked. You shook your head.

“We have to clean these sheets,” you said, glancing down at the wet spot below you.

“But then we can get back in bed, right?” Osamu asked.

You smiled and nodded. “After we eat and wash the sheets, sure. And you need a shower, you smell like sex.”

“Join me?” He asked.

“No funny business, Miya Osamu.”

“Omurice and onion soup for one princess,” Osamu said, setting a plate in front of you. You smiled at the cute, panda-shaped omurice.

“Thank you,” you said. Osamu sat next to you with his own plate.

“I was thinking tomorrow we could go visit the Izanagi shrine,” Osamu said, slurping his soup.

“I’ve never been to the Izanagi shrine,” you said.

“It’s dedicated to Izanagi and Izanami,” Osamu said. You nodded.

“Sounds good,” you said. “Izanami is the goddess of creation and death isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Izanagi was her husband. The moon and sun were born from his eyes.”

“That sounds interesting,” you said. “I’ll go.”

You ate in silence, apart from music playing from the tv in the living room.

“Back to bed?” Osamu asked after washing the dishes. You smiled and nodded.

“Back to bed,” you confirmed. Osamu lifted you easily and pecked your lips as he carried you back to bed. The freshly made bed was quickly ruined as Osamu laid you on your back, gently.

He kissed you softly before kissing down your neck. He made quick work of removing your tank top and sucking your left nipple into his mouth as he teased the other with his fingers. You moaned softly as he switched then continued to kiss down your stomach.

“Samu,” you said softly, threading your fingers in his hair.

“Jus’ let me take care of ya,” he breathed, running his fingers down your thighs, pulling your underwear down. You sighed as Osamu kissed up your inner thigh, stopping at your pubic area.

“Such a pretty pussy,” Osamu said, running his finger through your folds. “Gonna make ya cum on my tongue, princess.”

“Samu,” you moaned as he licked broadly up your slit. He moved your legs over his shoulders and wrapped his lips around your clit. He alternated between teasing it with his tongue and sucking at it softly.

“One or two?” Osamu asked.

“Two,” you said.

Osamu slowly pushed two fingers in your opening. Your mouth fell open with a low moan as he scissored you open and tongued at your clit.

“Osamu,” you moaned, tugging his hair. Osamu groaned, vibrating against your clit. “Oh?”

You gave another experimental tug, receiving the same response.

“Ya keep pulling my hair and I’m gonna fuck ya without finishing down here,” Osamu said, pulling away from you. You stared him in the eyes and pulled his hair again.

He moaned then glared up at you. “I wanted to treat ya real nice before I fucked ya again.”

“And I just want you in me,” you said. Osamu crawled up your body, hovering over you as he kissed you deeply.

“What my princess wants, she gets,” Osamu said. He kicked off his boxers and flipped you over so that you were on top.

“Want you in my mouth,” you mumbled, staring down at his hard cock. Your mouth was watering as his cock rested against his lower stomach, head swollen and dark pink, leaking precum.

“What was that, baby?” Osamu asked.

“Wanna suck you off,” you said, looking up at him. You scrambled down the mattress before he could say anything, spreading his legs slightly.

“G’head, baby,” he said, putting his hands behind his head as you placed a kitten lick to the leaking tip. You moaned at the salty taste.

You ran your tongue down his length, stopping to tease his balls. Osamu hissed as you sucked one in your mouth, gently running your tongue around it.

“Fuck, baby,” Osamu said, reaching down to grab your hair. You pulled back and pumped his cock once, twice, three times before taking the tip in your mouth. You hollowed your cheeks as you pumped the rest of his length.

“I know ya can take more than that,” Osamu said. You ignored him as your hand came up to play with his balls.

“Leave me alone,” you said, pulling back. “Just let me make you feel good.”

You took the tip back in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. Slowly, you took more of his cock in your mouth until he hit the back of your throat. Tears burned at your eyes as you gagged. Osamu groaned and bucked his hips.

“Good girl,” Osamu groaned, pulling your hair gently. You moaned around him, bobbing your head and wrapping your hand around whatever couldn’t fit in your mouth. Your other hand squeezed his balls lightly.

“Fuck, gonna cum,” Osamu grunted as his balls tightened in your hand. You pulled back.

“Cum in my mouth,” you said. You wrapped your lips around the tip and sucked. Your tongue swirled around, moaning at the taste of his precum.

“Fuck, fuck,” Osamu swore, pushing your head down his length as he came down your throat. You swallowed most of it before crawling up the bed and meeting Osamu with a messy kiss. Spit and cum ran down your chins as your tongues danced together.

“I love you,” you mumbled, as Osamu wiped your chin clean with a discarded shirt before wiping his own.

“I love you, too, baby.”

[emerald-chaos]

Touchdown

*gif not mine, credit goes to the owner*

I just want to take a moment to say thank you for the love on my last fic! It made my lil ole heart swell to see that peopled enjoyed it enough to leave a like or reblog.

This is just something special I had in my arsenal that I wrote for a friend a few months ago. I touched it up a bit and added a few things here and there. It all started when we were talking about how much we loved when Chris' accent got heavier after he'd been drinking, and well, I couldn't help myself lol. I hope you enjoy the fluff! xoxo

I apologize for any grammatical errors, I tried to proof-read but am also a little exhausted lol.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 2844

Warnings: I don't think there's anyway? Mentions of being drunk/drinking alcohol, cursing, and illusions to sexy times, but that's about it.

You hadn’t noticed how furiously your knee was bouncing up and down until the person sitting next to you on the subway got up to move seats once the train squealed to a stop. You sighed and ran your hands down the front of your thighs. Normally being a little late didn’t bother you as much, but tonight you were meeting him.

You flipped your wrist over to check your watch. 8:30pm. In all honesty, it had probably been only thirty seconds later than when you checked it the last time. Another deep sigh escaped from your lips as you started to become hyper aware of the train remaining still at the current stop. What could possibly be taking so long? You knew he wouldn’t care if you were running late, but the time the two of you had together already felt so minuscule. You wanted to capitalize on every second you could.

The train began moving again and you slumped back into your seat, feeling only a small amount of relief. It was becoming painfully apparent that you needed to try and relax. You could feel the sweat building up on your body, the sting on your palms from where your fingernails were pressing in with a vengeance moments ago, and you could hear your heart thumping in your ears. Your hand dug around in your purse for a few moments before finding the small case you were looking for. Opening it, you slipped your headphones into your ears and let your head rest on the window behind you as music intertwined with your thoughts.

Once upon a time, you made fun of people who decided to go to grad school. What kind of a clown would spend thousands of MORE dollars and go BACK to school?? Not to mention the stress of the assignments, the due dates - it was not for you...or so you thought.

Now here you are, a regular booboo the fool.

NYU’s graduate program for design and merchandising wasn’t necessarily part of your 5-year plan, but when the opportunity landed in front of you it was difficult to pass up. NYU was a school you had only dreamt of attending back in high school. When you were a senior in high school you were able to tour the campus and fell in love immediately. Hours upon hours were spent researching grants, scholarships, and all sorts of ways to try to make it happen. However, the dream ended as most teenage dreams do - crushed. There was no way you or your parents could afford the loans that it would surely wrack up to attend the out of state university, and there was no way you could ask your parents take on that kind of debt just so you could go to college. UMass was the way to go - close to home and familiar. Not to mention you were able to obtain several scholarships and grants that helped bring down the cost tremendously. Little did you know, boring ole UMass would bring you one of the most important things in your life.

Applying for graduate school wasn’t an easy decision and one you couldn’t really take all the credit for. A smile crept across your face as you reminisced on the night you nervously brought up the idea to your long-term boyfriend.

“I think you should do it,”

“I know, right?” you scoffed, “it’s insane, why would I do something so stup...wait, what? You do?”

“Of course I do. This is something you love and that you’re passionate about. Do you know how many hours of my life were spent listening to you ramble about NYU?” he questioned with a grin.

“It will open up so many doors for you. We can make things work,” a chuckle escaped from those beautiful lips as he saw your dumbfounded expression. He wrapped his fingers around your waist and pulled you close, “What? Did you expect me to forbid it? Cmon, baby, what kind of guy do you take me for?”

You didn’t have a lot of wins in your life, but you did have Chris.

When you got accepted, he took off a week from work to drive you 3 and a half hours south to help get you settled and moved into your temporary new home. The two of you ate a disgusting amount of pizza, moved a ridiculous amount of heavy furniture in the middle of a summer heat wave, and enjoyed each other’s company before the long-distance thing would set in. Chris spent that week encouraging you every step of the way, talking you off the ledge when you were convinced you had made the wrong decision, and made sure to help you christen every possible surface of your new place in the most deliciously sinful way.

You bit your lip slightly at the thought and a warm feeling spread across your face. Chris was one of the most incredible people you had met in this world. Kind, caring, funny, intelligent, passionate, and god was he sexy. The connection the two of you had was scary at first, but now you just couldn’t imagine spending your life with anyone else.

The robotic voice came over the loud-speaker in the subway car and you were rudely ripped back to reality as it pulled into your stop. You hurriedly scooped up your bag and jogged off the train.

It had been a promise between the two of you when you moved that there would be equal effort when it came to visiting and keeping in contact while having good, open communication. Long distance was hard but the two of you were determined to make it work. FaceTime calls, hours upon hours of texting, and even as far as writing the occasional letter back and forth (because your boyfriend was a hopeless romantic and you loved it so much). This weekend was your turn to come home to visit, and of course your last class had to go longer than anticipated. Fuckin’ Tiffany and her stupid ass questions.

The muscles of your calves burned as you kept up your hurried pace, weaving through the crowds of people gathered on sidewalks outside of various clubs and restaurants. It was a weekend night and the Patriots were playing, which meant the city was more alive than usual. New York was it's own beast, but it was a different type of hustle and bustle. Nights like these made your heart ache for home - the thick Massachusetts accents, the rowdy voices of bar patrons arguing about the game, the hugs shared between family members as they parted after dinner, and the faint smell of nicotine and alcohol that hung in the air.

As the neon sign that hung in the pub window came in to view you felt your heart dip down into your stomach. Last weekend’s visit had to be cancelled due to some stuff coming up with Chris’ work and a surprise assignment for you, so you hadn’t seen your boyfriend in 2 weeks. With a deep breath you swung open the door and scanned the crowd for him. He told you that he would be there promptly at 7:15pm for pregame shenanigans with his friends - which actually translated to how many pitchers of beer could they suck down before kick off.

“Aw, come ON! That is such a bullshit call!”

You heard him before you saw him. Of course. A grin spread across your lips as you shook your head. The thought of leaving to avoid secondhand embarrassment crossed your mind briefly before you picked up your feet and made your way through the crowd toward the sound. A room full of people from New England and you would still recognize that voice anywhere.

Everyone else seemed to fade away as you saw the outline of the tall, dark haired man standing at the bar. The slight freckles that spattered the back of his neck, the Brady jersey that he spent WAY too much money customizing, and the signature backward ball cap were ingrained in your subconscious memory. Not to mention if you didn’t recognize his outline or his voice, you would definitely recognize that ass anywhere.

You loved how passionate he got about sports and the way his Boston accent seemed to get thicker with each beer he consumed. Growing up in the area, you wouldn't think the accent would send a tingle down your spine the way it does, but it was different - it was Chris. Not to mention the sparkle in his eye when he would watch his favorite team or the way he would get in to arguments whenever someone tried to say something negative about them. You loved your big, handsome, over-sized toddler man so damn much.

A light tap on his shoulder made him whip around, his slightly opened mouth from his interrupted conversation curved upwards into a wicked grin as he made the connection of who was finally standing in front of him.

“Hey there, handsome. I don’t see a ring on your finger. You single?” You grinned, feeling your entire body fill with warmth as Chris leaned back and grabbed his chest as he erupted in laughter.

“Nah, nah, nah, unfortunately for you I am taken” he responded as he snaked his arms around your waist, sliding his hands into your back pockets as he pulled you into his figure.

“That is too bad,” you tsk'd, running a finger down his toned bicep, “she’s one lucky girl.”

“I think I’m the lucky one,” he grinned. He leaned down to meet your lips in a kiss. You sighed into it, allowing your body to mold itself so perfectly into his. The taste of beer on his lips and the smell of his cologne was intoxicating - it was home. You immediately allowed him entrance as you felt his tongue glide along your bottom lip. Your body felt small in his strong grip and you couldn’t help but laugh a bit as he gave your ass a firm squeeze. Normally, this type of bold, public display of affection would make you cringe away but at this point you were lost in Chris that you had absolutely no shame. Each time the two of you embraced had always felt like the first. Your heart still fluttered and your knees still got weak, like you were a 16 year old being kissed for the first time.

In the middle of your reunion moment, however, something happened in the game that made the entire bar erupt in boo’s and curses. Chris lifted his lips from yours to look over his shoulder and inspect what he had missed. You laughed and shook your head as you pushed him back towards his friends and took a seat in the bar stool he had been standing behind initially. His large hands found a natural place on your shoulders. While his eyes remained glued on the TV he began applying a moderate amount of pressure to your neck and shoulders. You didn’t realize how much your body craved that touch, his touch, until you immediately melted back into him.

The bartender slid a beer in front of you with a wink and you mouthed your thanks. You felt a twinge in your heart as you looked around, taking in the atmosphere of the bar. This was a typical weekend night for the two of you whenever you were living together. Football, drinks, pub food, and friends. If it wasn’t this pub it was your living room, just a couple blocks away. You didn’t even mind that it was your first night back and you weren’t alone, spending it immediately wrapped up in your satin sheets. The atmosphere, the people - it was so warm and familiar that you really wouldn’t rather be doing anything else. Plus, being wrapped up together in the sheets was sure to follow.

“I missed you,” hummed a pair of lips as they placed a kiss on the shell of your ear. A shiver shot down your spine at the sensation of his warm breath fanning over your neck. You reached up a hand and connected it to the nape of his neck.

“I missed you too,” you replied, turning your head to plant a kiss on his stubbled cheek.

His arms changed position as he wrapped them in front of your shoulders and crossed them, resting his chin on the top of your head. Your hand absentmindedly rubbed his forearms as you nursed your beer and placed your focus onto the game for the first time tonight.

The laughter seemed to escape from your chest naturally and effortlessly the entire night, as it always had a habit of doing when Chris was around. The camaraderie between him and his buddies during a game was something you’d grown to enjoy over the years. Chris’ competitive nature and the way his jaw clenched when something wasn’t going the way he wanted was always kinda...hot. All of his friends were huge assholes, but in the best way. It was always entertaining to hear them jab at each other and do what they could to rile someone up. They were the life of every party you had ever attended and they had a way of making a boring night a lot more interesting.

Thankfully (for the integrity of the bar) the Pats won the game with a surprise touchdown in the last 30 seconds of the game. Chris, being the guy he is, bought a final round for his friends and a nearby group they had been going back and forth with all night. You couldn’t help but laugh as he drunkenly leaned across the counter and slurred his order to the bartender.

“I need a round for m’friends and for these assholes over here who thought Tom Brady was anything but a winner!” the group started yelling in protest and he simply waved them off and started sliding beers down the bar.

The group eventually moved to a bigger round top so everyone could shoot the shit and banter about the outcome of the game. You were tucked into Chris’ side, hands intertwined as he was passionately discussing the importance of Brady’s legacy with a stranger who made the mistake of stopping to talk to him. Your eyes followed the motion of your thumb as it traced small circles onto the back of his. Your other hand under your chin, holding up the weight of your head as your exhaustion started to catch up with you. Chris, although slightly drunk, picked up on your body language and raised your hand to his lips for a kiss.

“Alright, fellas,” he said as he stood up from his seat, pulling you up with him, “the lady and I are gonna call it a night. See you boys next weekend”.

“Chris, we don’t have to go,” you began to protest as he tucked his jacket around your shoulders.

“Mm, ‘course we do,” he replied with a soft smile, “you’re so tired, baby. I can see it in those beautiful eyes”.

You could feel your cheeks turn a light shade of pink as you rolled your eyes at his attempt at laying it on thick. After what felt like a proper 10 minute goodbye session, the group said their final goodbyes, hugs included, and you walked out of the pub hand in hand.

The walk home was filled with the sounds of cars passing by and conversation of what each other had missed in the week prior. Small talk typically felt like such a chore, but with Chris every conversation came naturally. Even when he had absolutely no idea what you were talking about, he would listen intently and ask all the questions as if it was the most interesting conversation in the world.

The lock on the apartment door clicked as you pushed it open and entered. You smiled as you stopped into the middle of the living room, taking in the home you missed so dearly. A soft tapping of toenails against the hardwood made your heart soar as you met the eyes of your sweet pup, Dodger. A squeal left your lips as you squatted down to give love to the sweet boy. Chris always made fun of you when you came home, saying that you always seemed to miss Dodger more than you did him and I mean, he wasn’t entirely wrong about that statement.

Once again lost in your own world, you didn’t even notice Chris leaned up against the wall watching you with a smile.

“Oh my god,” you gushed, standing up, “do you like...like me or something?”

Chris grinned as he crossed the room and caught your belt loop with his finger, pulling you into him slowly.

“Yeah,” his voice had dropped down an octave, “you could say that”.

“Mm,” your tongue swiped across your lower lip and you wrapped your arms around his neck, “care to show me how much?”

The look in his eyes made your core burn. The tension building between you two became too much to handle as you crashed your lips into his. The kisses were messy and you could feel the sense of urgency between you two. His beard scratched against the column of your throat with a delicious burn as he left wet kisses across your jaw and down the side of your neck. Chris’ hands found their way back into the ass pockets of your jeans as he started walking you back towards the direction of the bedroom.

Soon, there was a trail of clothes leading to your bedroom and you felt very sorry for your neighbors. It had been a long time, but Chris always had a way of welcoming you home.

[pilothusband]

fly me to the moon

Rating: M-ish (a lil spicy at the end)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings: Swearing, boner mention, a douchebag, a little hint at food shaming

Word count: 2.5k

Description: You go on a date with a complete asshole. He takes you on a helicopter tour, not expecting the pilot to be the one to sweep you off your feet.

Author’s note: Probably should have edited this more but meh. This was completely self-indulgent. Unbeta’d. Let me know what you think!

gif by @pedroispunk

Why did I agree to go out with this jackass in the first place?

Your eyes were starting to feel sore with the amount of times you had rolled them throughout your date. He hadn’t noticed the exasperated movement of your eyes, too swept up in talking about the summer he spent in Ibiza with his former fraternity brothers, his medium rare, overpriced ribeye untouched.

So far, everything had felt off. The way he pulled up outside of your apartment and honked his horn to signal his arrival, the anchor cufflinks in his freshly pressed suit, paired with a pair of leather boat shoes and a salmon-pink button down. You loved a man in pink, but the rest of the outfit just felt like it didn’t fit together. Was he going to a wedding or going to party on a yacht? You had glanced down at your own outfit, a simple black dress that stopped mid-calf and hung loose, just barely hinting at your curves.

God, you hoped he wasn’t going to take you on a boat.

You had only agreed to this date in the first place because Liam, an investment banker who worked in your office building in the suite below yours, had asked you nearly every day for a month in a row. He was persistent, kind of like a mosquito, but you figured you were being too picky and needed to expand your horizons a bit. Maybe you would learn more about him and actually have a good time.

Not so much.

You couldn’t help but notice the way his brows knit together when you had ordered the fettuccine alfredo. The restaurant’s menu was pretty limited, and you didn’t recognize most of the items. This place was just too fancy for your comfort. You had wanted to call the waiter back to the table and change your order to a cheeseburger, just to embarrass him further.

As Liam droned on about how his father had taught him how to manage his finances, you let your mind wander to last weekend. You had gone out with your friends, Benny and Will, a pair of brothers who were each other’s polar opposites, yet they had a bond that was stronger than any other siblings you had ever met.

You were already well acquainted with their other friends, Santiago and Frankie, affectionately known as Pope and Catfish. Pope had a magnetic personality– he commanded the room without meaning to, sometimes to the detriment of others around him, who were trying to get a word in edgewise. 

Frankie was complicated. He was quiet, a little rough around the edges, and a little gruff, but so soft at the same time. His eyes gave way to a deeply settled kind of hurt. They had drawn you in almost right away. It only took one glance at his smile, brilliant and boyish, with a hint of a dimple gracing his cheek, before you were hooked.

You had only known him for a few months now and only saw him when the guys got together, but you couldn’t deny the desire that clutched at your stomach whenever his deep brown eyes met yours.

You heard your date call your name, snapping you out of your daydream.

“You ready for part two of the best date ever?” Liam asked. His smirk was all wrong. It wasn’t soft or playful. It was polished and practiced. He reminded you too much of Patrick Bateman.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you said, pasting a smile onto your face, inwardly wincing at how fake it was. You could not wait to go home and put on your sweatpants.

Shit. Holy shit.

He was taking you on a helicopter tour. The same company that Catfish worked for. Your stomach was in knots, threatening an unwelcome return of the alfredo you had for lunch.

Maybe he’s not working today, maybe we’ll get a different pil–

Of course you had no such luck. The guide ushered you both over towards the launching pad, where Frankie stood, wearing a tan flight suit. His hair was tousled, likely from being up in the air for most of the day and he had a pair of aviators on. He looked delectable.

His eyebrows shot up in recognition. He cocked his head to the side, glancing at your date, then back at you, a grimace set on his face.

Frankie schooled his expression and walked up and gave you a side hug, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently.

“Good to see you,” he said, giving you a small grin.

“You two know each other?” Liam asked, his eyes shifting between the two of you.

“Oh, yes, Liam– this is Frankie. He’s one of my friends.” 

Friends.

“Nice to meet you, Liam,” Frankie said, shaking his hand politely.

Liam gave Frankie one of his wide, practiced grins. “Likewise.”

You could have sworn you saw Liam wince a little during the handshake, but you chalked it up to pre-flight jitters. Liam slung an arm around your shoulder possessively and chuckled.

“Excited to show this pretty lady some pretty sights.” His fingers curled into your shoulder, a little too hard, and he jostled you a little, trying to come off as a cute gesture. It had you feeling like a rag doll. 

The smile you gave him must have been pretty forced, because Frankie coughed, interrupting the moment.

“All right, folks. Ready to get going?” 

You nodded, feeling a fluttering in your belly. Despite not wanting to be stuck in a helicopter with Liam, you were excited to finally see Frankie in action.

Frankie handed you both a pair of headsets and instructed you to buckle up. Before climbing in himself, he checked Liam’s belt, tightening it a little and then came over to your side, adjusting your belt as well. You risked a peek at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. 

“All set,” he murmured, giving you a soft smile.

Before you knew it, Frankie was in the pilot’s seat and the helicopter roared to life. The blades were whirring above your heads, making your hair whip around your face. You tucked the sides of your dress under your legs, silently cursing Liam for not warning you of this afternoon’s non-dress appropriate activity.

The swoop you felt in your stomach was unlike anything you had felt before, more intense than a commercial flight. You tried not to fidget, knowing you were in good hands with Frankie piloting, but fuck, were you already high up, and only climbing higher by the second.

You briefly wondered how high up you were now, how high up Frankie had ever flown. You planned on asking him once you were all safely back on the ground.

A large gust of wind made its way into the helicopter, forcing a shiver down your spine, goosebumps rising on your woefully unprotected arms.

“You cold, sweetie?” Liam asked. “I would give you my jacket but I need it to stay warm. You should have planned better, gorgeous.”

You instantly clenched your teeth, wishing murder was legal at this very moment.

“Well, Liam, I would have brought a jacket if you had told me we were coming here,” you said, voice dripping with a sarcastic, syrupy sweet tone.

“I have a jacket in the compartment in front of you,” Frankie said, glancing over quickly. “Go ahead and put it on.”

You obliged, opening the compartment and bundling up in the oversized jacket, instantly feeling better once the corduroy material covered your arms. You wrapped it around your torso and took a deep breath, hiding your grin in the sherpa collar. It smelled like him.

“Thank you, ‘Fish,” you said softly. He didn’t respond, but you saw his dimple appear out of the corner of your eye.

“All good back there?” You heard Frankie’s voice in your ears. You looked over to him, only catching a glimpse of his hands and the side of his face, partially obscured by his headset and his baseball cap.

“Doing fan-tas-tic, Frank,” Liam whooped. You couldn’t help but wince at how loud his voice was, and how he intentionally pronounced Frankie’s name incorrectly.

“Great,” Frankie sounded unamused.

You huffed, annoyed at your date’s bad manners and looked out the window. Terrible date aside, you had to admit the bay from above was absolutely gorgeous. You looked down at the ocean, so expansive and eternally blue. Your eyes skimmed over to where water met land, at the soft sand on the beach, turning into a thick forest.

“Frankie, it’s beautiful,” you gasped.

You looked over at him briefly, seeing a hint of a smile on his face.

Liam was momentarily forgotten, until his hand snaked its way onto your thigh, giving it a little squeeze. Instinctually, you moved your leg at the unwanted contact. Liam looked over at you, an ugly scowl marring his face.

“Careful with the turns in this thing,” he said, addressing Frankie. “Our girl here ate about 15 pounds of pasta before this.”

You felt a hot wave of embarrassment wash over you, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. They streaked down into your hairline from the force of the wind around you. You had already realized Liam was a bit of a douche, but you hadn’t thought him to be cruel.

“The only thing we have to worry about bringing this thing down is that big head of yours,” Frankie quipped back.

Biting back a laugh, you looked out the window so Liam wouldn’t see your reaction.

You could tell Liam wanted to argue back, but he stayed quiet, since the man he wanted to lash out at was responsible for keeping you all alive at the moment.

The rest of the ride was pretty quiet, other than the persistent chopping of the helicopter blades. The views were beautiful, but you found your eyes wandering back over to Frankie every few minutes. The tanned skin of his hands as he deftly worked at the throttle. Every time he pulled on a control you saw the veins in his forearms strain with the movement. You wondered what else those hands could do.

Before you knew it, the bird touched down and you unbuckled your seatbelt, removing the tight headset from your ears. You had a slight headache and you could tell getting down was going to be a struggle.

Frankie seemed to have no issue, jumping out of his seat with grace and walking over to your side to help you down. Your legs were shaking, so you stumbled as your feet hit the ground, grabbing onto his broad shoulders for dear life.

“I– oof, sorry,” you laughed nervously, rubbing your nose. You had bumped into his chest nearly smashing your face into his sternum. Frankie bit his lip and chuckled in response, squeezing your waist. You felt dizzy with his arms caging you in like this. It gave you an overwhelming desire to wrap yourself around him, to feel him pressed against you.

“It’s okay, I got you.” His voice rumbled in your ear, absolutely sending your senses on a tailspin. His strong, quiet voice was doing something magical to your already weak knees.

You stepped away before you fell over, remembering your date after a moment. He was about ten feet away, arms crossed, his face pinched in an angry expression.

“I don’t think this is working out,” he said as you walked over to him.

“I couldn’t agree more,” you said, giving him a sickly sweet grin. “I’ll find another ride home.”

Liam scoffed and made his way back into the tour center to grab his belongings. You instantly felt a weight lift off your shoulders. Thank God he left.

“So, why did you go out with that asshole, anyways?” Frankie asked, a bewildered expression on his face.

You sighed, feeling embarrassed.

“I honestly don’t know. He wouldn’t leave me alone so I decided to give him a shot.”

“I can’t say I blame him for being persistent, but seriously, fuck that guy.”

You huffed a laugh. 

“Seriously, when he made that comment about what you ate for lunch I wanted to throw him right out of the helicopter.”

You bit your lip and sniffed, feeling the embarrassment wash over you at the memory.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” your voice was small and you rubbed at your arms nervously.

Frankie had a hard, angry look on his face. It made you feel a little giddy, that he was so angry on your behalf.

“He should have never talked to you that way. He’s lucky you agreed to go out with his sorry ass.”

“You’re right. And God, I can’t believe he took me here, of all places,” you laughed. This really was surreal.

“Feels kind of like fate, huh?” He said, giving you a boyish grin.

“How so?”

“Well,” he stepped towards you, arms sliding up the material of his jacket. “I’ve always wanted to see you in this jacket.” His gaze made its way down your figure. His eyes were dark as he swallowed heavily.

“And I’ve always wanted to go on a date with you, though not while you’re on one with another man.” The smile he gave you was shy, searching, as if he wasn’t sure how you’d react.

“Well, I won’t be making that mistake again,” you replied, stepping closer. 

Your tongue came out to wet your lips and Frankie watched with rapture. 

“I’d like to kiss you now, if that’s okay.” His mouth was an inch from yours, and his large, calloused hands cradled your face gently.

“Please, Frankie,” you sighed.

His lips were soft, despite the bruising urgency in his actions. Your hands immediately tangled into his hair, knocking the cap off his head. You melted against him and licked his bottom lip, asking for permission. He immediately complied, licking into your mouth. Your tongues found a delicious rhythm, tangling together. You moaned into his mouth, spurring him on further. His hips pressed into yours. You could feel how hard he was, even through his flight suit.

“Fuck, baby” he rasped, pulling away. His chest was heaving, breath ragged from your kiss. “The things I want to do to you.”

You slanted your hips back into his, pressing into his erection. “Then do them.”

Frankie bit his lip and groaned, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re absolutely perfect for me, you know that?” 

You grinned, leaning forward to capture his lips again.

“I want to do this right, though,” he said. “I’m going to take you out on a better date. Show you how first dates should go. And then I’m going to take you home and show you how much I’ve wanted you for months.”

You felt as if your heart had stopped momentarily.

“That sounds perfect to me,” you said, kissing him again.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @darnitdraco @freeshavocadoooo​ @recklessworry @wyn-dixie​ @manalg14​ @codenamewife @comphersjost​ @princessxkenobi​

[omegasmileyface]

Not in the Job Description

heres a silly lil Danny Phantom concept based entirely off a half-awake sleep-vision that made me laugh :) my subconscious brain is a genius at coming up with things that make just enough sense to be worth writing

summary: Danny's job at a local restaurant is surprisingly fulfilling, even after being crowned Ghost King. Speaking of that job, however, there are some intricacies to it that are hard to keep in mind during everyday life.

warnings: descriptions of nausea and mild sickness

words: 2180

AO3 link

===

Honestly, life was going pretty well at the moment for Danny Fenton. He wasn't even worried that it was a false security or a calm before a storm, because this kind of semi-serenity had been going on for more than a year. It was a long-term stability brought about by adaptation and putting in effort to get help and accommodation. Jazz would be proud!

Sometime at the beginning of Junior year, the Observants had chased him down and crowned him High Ghost King (much to the chagrin of both involved parties). It certainly added responsibility to Danny's plate, along with some new sensations and a series of crises (what didn't these days?), but a little political discussion with some of the more powerful ghosts ended with Danny deciding that, at least at the moment, the position didn't require him to do much more than he normally did. More ghosts would seek him out for help and he would do his best, and some "paperwork" (though there was very little paper involved and it was a lot of talking and oaths and rituals and such) happened about monthly. Otherwise, though, the Zone didn't need much more help than that, having survived off an absent King for centuries. Well, and the ambient purpose of the King as a sort of core for the Zone, but Danny didn't have to put in time or conscious effort for that.

Eventually that settled into normalcy, and Danny was back to worrying about the balance of schoolwork, self-care, and fighting. He still hadn't given up on the prospect of someday becoming an astronaut, and he was determined to have the grades for it. Don't get him wrong, he'd gotten way better about that! He'd formed a practiced, if not entirely stable, system that kept his grades at a solid B- / C+, while getting a solid 5-ish hours of sleep most nights and not bottling things up too much. It was about halfway through Junior year that he realized, with some help from his friends, that his ghosts fights were honestly pretty civil, at least against the regulars. Civil enough that he knew they had some respect for him, and was willing to risk asking for help. So a few weeks and awkward but not bad conversations later, and he had agreements with almost all his regular "foes" not to cause trouble within Amity from 11pm to 7am, 3pm on weekdays. It was more than half the day off-limits on school days, and plenty of ghosts made up for it to a degree by making themselves more common during the "permitted" hours, but it greatly increased Danny's well-being and school performance anyway. "Rivals" like Skulker and Technus had enough respect for Danny and his Lair to abide, and plenty even cared that he was taking care of himself, even between frequent sparring. Maybe a few were really just in fear of his new crown, but he chose to cautiously pretend that wasn't a possibility.

After graduation — he made Senior year with all As and Bs! — Danny's parents had encouraged him to get a part-time job over the summer. He had been interning at FentonWorks (paid! His parents might not be the most attentive but they certainly weren't unfair) since he had accidentally revealed himself a few years back, and they had been thrilled to hear that he still intended to go into NASA if possible, and had done whatever they could to help. They recommended the job because, as good as a paid scientific internship was on a resume, it would help to have a variety of activity and the opportunity to get recommendations from employers who weren't liable to nepotism. After searching local businesses, Danny found a small sandwich shop founded by a middle-aged couple who had moved in and set up shop just before the ghost attacks began. Being close to the school but not far from the commercial sector and offering small portable food (no one wants to sit down for a meal when a spirit could come crashing through the window at any moment), the place got good enough business to pay the employees a proper living wage. Better yet, they were allowed to take home unsold food! Not to mention the owners were both very kind women who held smiling conversation with employees and customers alike. Danny was more than lucky to land such a nice job, even if it meant he had to get up at 7 five days a week.

All this is to say that it wasn't as surprising as it could have been that he was having a slow and pleasant day at work.

Both the owners were out for the day on some sort of vacation, so today it was just Danny and a short teenager named Casey manning the place. Most of their orders recently had been online due to an explosion causing road work near the restaurant and it was mid-morning, leaving work slow enough that they could afford to just have the two until lunch shift started. Danny was on cashier duty today, but unless the door bell sounded, he was helping Casey in the kitchen.

"Aw, man, we're almost out of tomatoes."

"Really?" Casey looked up to the shelf Danny was inspecting and indeed saw only 3 tomatoes. "Huh, guess they didn't restock yesterday. Well, we probably shouldn't risk needing more before the day's out, do you want me to go get more?"

Danny shook his head. "Nah, I can go. I think I could use the fresh air." He said that a lot, especially as an excuse when his ghost sense went off, but that didn't mean it wasn't true. He never had liked being confined.

Casey checked the monitor to see if they'd gotten any new online orders. Since there was a grocery store just a block away, any time someone needed a quick restock they tended to just walk.

They looked up to see Danny already had his jacket on and was looking them in the eye. "Would you take over my position until I come back?"

"Of course. Ten minutes?"

With a nod and a smile, Danny was out the back door.

===

After a moment of habitually wiping down the counters, Casey went up to the register in case a customer appeared.

It was even quieter than before for a few minutes, so they busied themself with mini restocks and organization. They were in the middle of stacking some paper coffee cups when they started to feel dizzy. There had been this subtle pressure on their chest since Danny left, which they figured was anxiety for working the restaurant alone for the first time, and now it had solidified into a warm nausea that flared whenever they exhaled.

With the disinterested panic that came from having strange things happen for years, they wondered if they had missed their medication this morning. A quick glance at their phone, however, showed the notification for it checked off.

Putting the phone back away, Casey noticed the tips of their fingers were somewhat translucent. Alright then, it was definitely something to do with ghosts. Great! Just excellent. The panic was less disinterested this time.

They weren't familiar with any sort of ghost illness that made humans translucent, so they definitely needed to call someone to make sure nothing bad happened. It would be best to call the Fentons' public number so they could go over and get looked over by then. In the meantime, they should call Danny and ask him to hurry back. He shouldn't be much longer anyway.

Casey didn't even get the chance to act on their plan, however, before a short humanoid ghost appeared in the dining area. They didn't look to be up to anything, but Casey reached for the emergency ectoblaster beneath the register anyway. The nausea was getting worse, along with a new chill, and they couldn't be sure this new ghost wasn't somehow causing whatever they were going through.

The ghost looked at them with an expression that was almost desperate. "Ah! Kind human, thank you for your time." The ghost... bowed? "I am Eurusid, from the Spoken Channels. There has been a dispute which damaged public meeting grounds in the center of the Channels, and both groups refuse to allow the damage to be repaired except by the other group."

Casey's eyes narrowed. It was becoming difficult to stand with the dizziness, and if not the ghost himself, then whatever he was saying was probably a hallucination. They didn't even think about responding beyond a detached "what".

It was then that Danny re-entered the back door with the new tomatoes. Good thing, too. At least with another person there, Casey could confirm whether they were hallucinating.

===

Placing down the grocery bag and shrugging off his jacket in one motion, a skill only gained by years of laziness efficiency, Danny called toward the register. "Back!"

Once he caught sight of the teen, however, all casualness shed itself from his body and he rushed over to hold them. "Man, Casey, you feeling alright? You look really pale." The realization that their form was slightly translucent, despite the firm human heartbeat beneath, was drowned out by him finally noticing the ghost standing a few feet away. The reaction of his ghost sense had been so minor that he had ignored it.

He was surprised to see that he recognized the specter's face, marred as it may have been from worry and confusion aimed directly at Casey. "Eurusid? What's going on?"

As the ghost, still confused but unwilling to act impolitely, gathered his bearings and began to bow toward him, Danny's coworker shuddered under his hands, regaining his full attention. He thought back through the day's events for hints as to the situation, before swearing, cutting off whatever Eurusid was about to say.

Danny backed up and said, voice as clear as he could, "I recall my position."

Casey's reaction was immediate, a gasp of air like they had been kept from breathing and a return of their skin's human opacity. Danny rushed back over and put his hand on their back to steady them as their eyes narrowed and went slightly unfocused.

Figures, doesn't it? One of the many intricacies that had come up at his coronation Junior year that just hadn't come up enough to keep at the front of his mind. One of the defenses of the High Ghost Crown was the ability of the King to temporarily give their duty to someone else. As long as that person accepts, during a specified time they substitute for the King in dealing with political matters, as well as taking over as much as their ability allowed of the King's function to process the energy of the Realms.

Danny had no idea that this ability could be activated with words as vague as "take over my position", let alone that it could be used with a human. That potential had never come up during the ceremony, so for all he knew, a full ghost in his position couldn't substitute with a human. A human certainly shouldn't be able to take over any part of the energy processing, though maybe in Amity Park the average person processed enough environmental ectoplasmic energy to make it possible. Regardless of residence, though, it could not be good for Casey's body, which had no Core to properly process energy and had no human equivalent except perhaps a small emotional center in the brain, to even attempt to filter and manage some of the inherent energy of a dimension.

Their skin was still clammy and their coordination was shot. Ancients, if this is what an accidental substitution did to a human, Danny would have to word things very carefully when asking for help in the future.

"King Phantom?" Danny looked up to see that Eurusid was still floating there awkwardly. Right. He had two people here to help.

"Sorry, Eurusid. One moment, I'll be right with you." He turned back to his coworker, who looked confused and less lucid than ideal, but probably still lucid enough to realize this ghost had just called him "King Phantom". Well, he'd deal with that once it came to it. "Here, Casey, let's get you some water." He helped them walk back into the kitchen and sat them down on a bench by the back door. There was a chair in the register area, but they probably didn't want to feel exposed to the dining area like that, even with nobody but the ghost there.

Once handed the water, Casey sighed and eagerly drank from it, eyes closed. Danny rubbed his hand on their back a bit and promised to be back shortly before walking back out to meet Eurusid. Whatever he was here about was probably worth immediate attention but Danny was sure there'd be at least a solid minute of apologies on both sides before the matter was addressed. Hopefully both the Spoken Channels and Casey would be alright before the next shift came in.

[p4nkow]

White Lie

Hello hello! As usual, I have no idea of what this is about 💀 I saw a post it said that they were currently filming in a school and my dumb ass was like Oh right, they’re in high school

Part two

I loved writing for Rafe, pretending that he isn’t a lil piece of shit, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did while writing it!

Summary: Being a secret girlfriend wasn’t exactly how you’d planned to spend your high school years. As a question keeps haunting you, you face Rafe about the nature of your relationship

Warnings: swearing?? A making out session? Oh and also some angst

gif not mine so credit to the owner! and don’t mind what’s written in it 💀

Being a secret girlfriend wasn’t exactly how you’d planned to spend your high school years. Everyone kept saying that those were supposed to be the best years of your life — the years during which you make memories you’ll cherish forever, the ones you’ll tell you grandchildren someday.

A lot of good things had happened to you so far — you’d made some good friends, the kind of friendships that last a lifetime. You’d been accepted as a cheerleader, which wasn’t as exciting as you thought it would be. However, it was a good distraction from your shitty Pogue life back in the island. You even got a job — Kie had asked you to work as a waitress at her family’s restaurant, The Wreck. When she said ‘Just think about it’, you said Yes in a heartbeat. No need to think about it. That job would help you provide for yourself and pay your food, after all.

Oh, and yeah. You also got a boyfriend.

A guy who you came so abruptly and suddenly in your life that he turned it upside down without you even noticing. Because never, not even in a million years, you would have imagined that you’d be dating Rafe Cameron. The Rafe Cameron. The Kook king.

It wasn’t planned — like at all — for you to fall for him.

Everything started out as a flirt — some staring at the keggers down at the Boneyard, some casual touches in the hallways, and then you ended up making out in The Wreck’s men’s room. Neither of you had planned it, and you didn’t even dare to imagine what your friends — or even his — would say about it. Everyone in the Outer Banks knew that between the two groups there was some bad blood.

But thankfully they didn’t know anything. They didn’t because you were with a guy who wouldn’t openly say that was dating you. The thought hurt you every time — was it your fault? Was he ashamed of you?

The only time you’d brought it up, hiding how it truly hurt you, he gave you a frown and simply said “You know — it’s... it’s because of my father.”

Of course you knew that his relationship with his father was at loggerheads. Hell, it was so bad that you weren’t even sure that there was a relationship between them. Still, Rafe wanted to please him so badly that he wouldn’t even tell him that he was dating a Pogue.

But you’d be lying if you didn’t say that it had been fine by you too, at first.

After all, what the two of you shared was something special and as such, you didn’t want to yell it through the halls. And, to be quite honest, you feared your friends’ reactions. You didn’t even dare imagine what JJ would say if he knew you were sneaking around with Rafe Cameron.

But you had to admit that playing secret boyfriends with him was fun. The risk of getting caught made everything even more exciting. It made every look, every touch even more significant.

Two months ago, if someone told you that Rafe Cameron loved to cuddle at night, you would’ve laughed right in his face. And now you were the one he held close to his body every night as he slept peacefully. Funny how fast the night changes, huh?

There were times when you thought that you were going to get caught with your hands in the cookie jar — Sarah once walked in on you as you were making out on his desk, but you quickly hid your face in his chest as he surrounded you with his arms. She didn’t even have the chance to give a proper look at you, considering that she flew off the room. Now she made sure to knock every time she had to speak to him.

But now that the summer had ended, you were worried about how your relationship with Rafe would develop. Would you still have the chance to sneak around, trying to avoid the prying eyes of the islanders?

But since the moment you set foot at the Kildare County High School, things went down quicker than you could ever imagine.

Rafe was a class ahead of you, considering that he was a year older, so you didn’t really have many chances to see him in the morning. And when you crossed him in the hallways, he would look at you but openly ignore your presence.

And every single time he walked past you without saying a word, you felt your heart break a little.

The few moments you were given with Rafe during the day, the way he made you feel, the way your skin burned whenever he touched you or how he’d always play with your hair — was all of it worth the way you felt everyday because of his behavior?

And that question kept haunting you, remaining unanswered.

It was a Thursday morning and it wasn’t a particularly exciting day at the Kildare County High School. Well, actually, days seemed all the same there.

Between third and fourth period, you had to stop by your locker to grab your history book, and John B offered to walk you.

“Can’t believe I’m already failing history”, he groaned, a frown forming in his face. History book in one hand and the other hand hidden in his jeans pocket, John B got a lot of stares from the girls chatting in the hallway. Could you blame them?

As you swung open the door of your locker, you gave him a quick look. “C’mon, you’re not gonna fail it. We’ve just started.”

The hallways ware starting to get crowded as everyone hurried to move to their next class, chitchats filling the orange walls of the building.

“Yeah, and the guy already hates me”, he quickly added as he leaned towards the lockers next to yours.

When he groaned, you couldn’t help but shoot him another look. “What?”

“Why is he everywhere I go?”, he murmured between his teeth, leaning his face close to yours to make sure not to be heard by anyone else.

Brows narrowed, confused expression and hand still in the air while holding your history book, you moved your gaze to the point he was nodding at.

And there, standing near the cafeteria’s open door with some of his classmates, there was Rafe. Topper was there, as well as Kelce and two girls you didn’t know.

His features were relaxed as he laughed with them, the fluorescents reflecting an unnatural light on his light brown hair, neatly pulled back by some gel. He was wearing his football team’s jersey, which fit him so well that you couldn’t move your gaze away from him.

You didn’t like the way your stomach twisted at the sight of him in the company of those girls and you sure as hell didn’t like the way he was openly ignoring your presence.

Lost in your thoughts, you’d probably been staring at him for way too long when John B frowned again and, waving a hand in front of your face, said “Y/N?”

“What?” You blinked a few times, looking back at him. “Yeah, sorry. You were saying?”

John B gave a quick look at the group you were staring at with a weird look on his face before turning back to you. “Uh, nothing. We’re late for class, c’mon.”

When you closed your locker with a loud thud, probably using more strength than needed, Rafe finally noticed you. And his fists immediately clenched at the sight of John B standing right next to you.

He’d done everything in his power to bite the bullet and get over the fact that you were friends with him and his group. But he couldn’t stand the sight of that Routledge standing so close to you. Or the way the two of you moved almost in unison, as if it was natural for him to second your movements.

You were in the middle of your history class when your phone vibrated when you received a message.

Rafe: Meet me outside.

Giving a quick look at the teacher, whose back was turned to you as he wrote on the board, you re-read the text to make sure that you weren’t dreaming.

As much as you wanted to give in at his request, you quickly typed I’m the middle of my class.

You didn’t put the phone away, hoping that Rafe would reply. It was the only way you could contact him and you were more than happy to hear from him after the coldness he showed in the hallway.

Rafe: Say you have to go to the bath or smth. C’mon, baby.

Biting your bottom lip at his words was an automatic reaction, and you gave a quick look at your classmates to make sure that no one had noticed you blushed.

When you met John B’s eyes, he raised a brow in a silent questioning look. To dismiss your weird behavior, you just shook your head and looked away.

It took you a few moments to summon the courage to speak up, waiting for the teacher to turn towards you before raising your hand, catching his attention. “Uhm... Mister Suarez? May I go to the bathroom?”

He dismissed you with a hand gesture, which you took as a Yes, so you hurried to gather your things up and leave the class.

You weren’t exactly sure of what he meant by ‘outside’, so you looked both ways in the hallway, trying to spot him. Everything was quiet, the quiet buzzing of the fluorescents was the only sound in the background. So, when you started to walk towards your left, heading to the back exit, your footsteps echoed all around you.

Each step you took, the more excited you were. It was unusual for Rafe to ask you to do something like that, especially at school, and that’s probably the reason why you were so tense. All the hurt from before seemed vanished as you walked, being replaced by nothing but excitement.

But you knew it was only a temporary change.

A hand surrounded your bicep as you were about to walk past the chemistry lab, dragging you in as you let out a surprised squeak. There was no need for you to look up to know that it was Rafe.

The lab door closed behind you with a loud thud, isolating you from the rest of the school. The room was in semi-darkness, and that’s all you could notice before Rafe made your bag slide off your shoulder and land on the floor, being immediately forgotten there.

His blue eyes immediately found yours as he made you move backwards towards the nearest table. “Rafe”, you whispered, unable to form a meaningful thought.

“Shh”, he whispered back, caressing your bottom lip with his thumb.

And then his lips crashed on yours, not leaving you the time to process what was going on. Your instinct was to place both hands in the back of his neck, holding some strands of his perfectly styled locks between your fingers.

When your back hit the side of the table, both his hands slid down to your ass, further to your thighs. He lifted you by them, making you sit on the board without even thinking of pulling away from your lips.

Placing a hand on your lower back, he made you slide towards him, in such a way as to press your bodies together. When he pulled away from your lips to take a deep breath, he shifted his attention to your neck. Understanding his intentions, you leaned your head to second his movements, biting your bottom lip as he started to leave wet, hot kissed down to your neck.

“Rafe”, you murmured again, completely lost in those sensations. Your hands were now cupping his face, trying to pull him as close as possible to you.

But then, as your heard loud footsteps right out of the door, you repeated in a warning tone “Rafe, wait.”

The way his head quickly snapped towards the hallway told you that he’d heard them, too.

When he turned again towards you, you realized that he’d taken a few steps back from you were sitting, moving away as if he was being charged with electricity.

His reaction hurt you, again. All the excitement of the moment had quickly vanished and now you felt even more hurt than before. Hurt, used and humiliated.

When you tried to swallow to get rid of the knot that had formed in your throat, you felt tears watering your eyes, forcing you to look away from him.

With a little jump, you got off the table and hurried to get your bag from the floor. Rafe was still standing there, and he started to react only when you swung the door open and walked out of the lab.

“Y/N”, you heard him saying from behind you, but you didn’t stop.

As you stormed out of the building, quickly getting rid of the tears that had watered your cheeks, you heard his firm steps following you. “Fuck, Y/N. Wait!”

He only managed to reach you when you finally got to your car, stopping right behind you. He placed a hand on the door of the vehicle to stop you from opening it. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

When you turned towards him, his face was just a few inches away from yours. And his heart ached a bit when he saw your eyes filled with tears. He tried to cup your cheek, but you looked away and avoided his touch. “Y/N?”, he repeated. “Talk to me, baby.”

“Are you embarrassed of me?”, you suddenly asked.

His brows frowned in confusion at your question, as he slightly shook his head in denial. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Answer me”, you demanded. “Are you embarrassed of being seen with me, Rafe?”

“No!”, he abruptly answered. “Of course not! Fuck”, he muttered under his breath, narrowing his eyes as if he couldn’t believe what you were asking him.

“Then why are we still keeping it a secret?” Your voice was now way lower than before. Resigned, even.

Rafe’s lips parted and you could see the indecision growing in his eyes. His beautiful, troubled eyes. “You know why”, he whispered.

Even though you tried to hide it, the irony in your voice was evident when you asked “Your father, right?”

And he fiercely nodded. “Yes! Yes, of course.”

Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you swallowed hard. With a burden on your heart, you murmured in a low voice “Because I’m a Pogue.”

Rafe didn’t reply. He wanted to — all he wanted to do was comfort you and fix whatever was going on between the two of you at the moment, but there was nothing he could say.

“You can’t tell him about us — you don’t want him to find out about us, because you’re embarrassed of the fact that I’m a Pogue”, you concluded. And that was the unvarnished truth.

Rafe’s shoulders dropped at your words and he pulled away his hand from the car door. His eyes were glossy as you gave him a last look, before turning your back to him and getting in your car.

“Y/N”, you heard him murmur as you threw your bag on the passenger seat and turned on the engine. “Don’t go. Please.”

The vulnerability in his voice almost made you give in, but there was no turning back. So you drove away from the parking lot, leaving a hurt Rafe watching you slide away from his fingers.

[hongjoongtrasher]

Goodbye baby goodbye

Genre: Angst (because we all like to hurt ourself), smut, fluff

Pairing: office worker!seonghwa x female reader, ceo!hongjoong x female reader, established relationship, lovers to ennemies.

Other: little brother!jongho, best friend!yunho, colleague!yeosang, roommate!san, office worker!mingi, manager!wooyoung.

Warning: cheating, betrayal, manipulations, protected sex (be safe kiddos).

Notes: Purely for entertainment and this is the first time I’m writing about ATEEZ, please have some mercy on me xD. No idea about the words count. Triggering themes will be add along chapters.

Summary: It all began when your now 4 year-old boyfriend Seonghwa had an invitation to his entreprise’s party. Surprised to hear you could tag along, you met Kim Hongjoong, the CEO and close friend of Seonghwa. Rumored to be a playboy, the rich boss of your boyfriend is determined to add you to his conquests.

Masterlist

« My boss told me you were also invited » claimed your boyfriend while picking a piece of cake with his fork. 

This made you drop yours as your eyes widened from the surprise. Park Seonghwa has been your boyfriend for four years now, and he was working at a powerful enterprise, headed by a young CEO. It was hard to say you knew this enigmatic CEO since you never met him, but Seonghwa was close to him, that’s all what you knew. 

« Me ? » you asked, unsure about the matter. 

Your boyfriend nodded, confirming his previous statement. Every year, KQ Enterprise was holding a party with their employees to congratulate them whom worked hard and contributed to make it a great place to work. You were definitely proud of your boyfriend’s hard work since he was respected and loved by his colleagues, which brought him to be a manager of a whole department there. 

« Yeah. We can bring one person, so…I thought my girlfriend would have liked to tag along. » he chuckled lightly, taking your hand in his on the table. « Y/N, you’ve been by my side for a while, and you know better than anyone how much I worked hard there. That’s why I want you to come. » he explained, making you nod softly.

That’s how you were invited to the reception. Unlike your boyfriend, you weren’t working in a famous enterprise. You were still studying at university and also working part-time at a local restaurant, that’s why you couldn’t do much for him except listening to his complains when he had some, or just being a supportive girlfriend. You two met at your last year of high school. Seonghwa was quite popular back then, but you never really grew interested in him until he helped you one day at the library. From the top of your toes, unable to reach the damn book you wanted, a large hand reached it to slowly takes the book out. It was probably cliché, but probably because you were yourself, he had begun to slowly reach out for you, being first a friend and after a boyfriend. 

« Are you sure though ? » you asked, lacking of confidence about it. « I’ve never attended such an event before- what if I do something wrong ? »

« Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Because you’re my girlfriend » he reassured you before taking your hand to his lips. 

« If you say so… » you answered back with a sweet smile. 

This day, you were enjoying a date at a coffee shop. You were glad Seonghwa’s taking time for you both, making sure to go out or just even spending time together. But this time would be different. It was a matter of work for him and you were just required to stay with him. But somehow, you were worried. Not worried about him, but about you. As you said, you feared that something would happen because of you. 

Suddenly, your phone rang. You looked at it as the name « Lil’ bro » appeared on your screen. You mumbled a « sorry » and stood up while taking the call. 

« Hey Jongho, what’s up ? » you exclaimed, going away not to bother anyone around here.

« Hey noona, are you in town ? » answered the other male. 

Jongho was your little brother. Literally your blood brother. Somehow, he was the youngest from the family, but surely the manliest, wisest and sweetest boy you knew. He was doing his military service at the moment but took time to call you wherever he could which made you thankful toward the youngest. 

« Yeah, I’m on a date with Seonghwa at the moment. But it’s alright. What’s up ? » you answered with a cheerful tone. 

« Oh, sorry I didn’t know…but I’m going to be discharged soon you know ? » 

« Of course, how can I forget it ? » 

« As expected » he chuckled for a moment before pausing some seconds. « I…was wondering if you could help me ? Cause I’ve found a job right after, but I don’t want to bother mom and dad so, if I could …like live with you for a while… »

« Mhhh, well it’s not that I don’t want to, but I gotta ask San, since I’m not living alone. »

You weren’t living all by yourself. Living with your parents wasn’t convenient for your studies as they were living quite far from the university, so you searched for an apartment to rent but the prices were incredibly high. And then you found San, another student. He was also in need for a place to stay since he couldn’t rent a whole place for himself. At first, you weren’t sure about living with a boy, but your roommate reassured you by saying « Don’t worry, nothing will happen between us if it’s what scaring you. I like boys you see ? » Such an extravagant guy, but yet so loving and sweet. That’s how you began to live with San. And until now, every thing was alright. 

« Sure, let me know about it okay ? » 

« Yes sir ! I’m sure you’re killing it out there, but don’t overdo it alright ? »

« Well, I’m not the baddest dude here, but I may be out of the top ten ? » he laughed, a bit shy to say it himself.

« Ooooh, as expected from my little brother. » 

« I will call mom and dad, so I gotta go. Love you noona. »

« Love you too. »

The « beep beep » at the other line indicated the call ended. And it’s with some relief that you came back at your boyfriend. Jongho and Seonghwa knew each other, and your little brother liked him. So you didn’t hesitate to share some news from the youngest. 

« It was Jongho. »

« How is he doing ? » asked Seonghwa, with a genuine interest.

« Great ! Actually he’ll be soon discharged, and he asked me if he could temporary live with us as he found a job after his mandatory service. »

« Already ? Wow, he doesn’t waste any time. » said Seonghwa with an impressed tone. 

« I know right ? But he’s always been this way, I’m glad he knows what he wants. »

You discussed a bit more about your brother and finished your cake and coffees. Hands in hands you headed outside, the sky becoming grey with menacing dark clouds. Rushing to the subway, you both got inside. 

« So I will pick you up Friday night. For the party. » he began, going back to the event.

« Alright…Wait, is there any dress code ? » you asked suddenly panicking because your student ass was probably not the best in clothing category. 

« Erm I’m not sure ? So far I never really paid attention to this since I’m always in suit. »

You sighed and prayed God to have mercy on you. You were practically sure of yourself: you hadn’t anything which would made you elegant in your wardrobe at the moment. 

« Y/N, don’t panic. I will find a solution okay ? » he said while taking your shoulders to make you face him.

You looked into Seonghwa’s eyes and nodded, slightly defeated by this idea of letting your boyfriend help you for an outfit. 

In front of your building, your boyfriend pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead and smiled at you.

« I’ll text you later. »

« Thanks for today Seonghwa. »

« My pleasure » he smiled more before leaning to finally kiss your lips, which made you answer to the kiss. 

As you walked into your shared apartment, you could hear San’s laugh emanating from the living room.

« I’m home ! » you said carefully, taking your shoes off.

« Welcome back Y/N » San’s voice answered, discovering the pink haired boy playing his console with snacks around him. 

« You haven’t moved since I left ? » you asked in an astonishment. 

San paused his game and turned around to give you a sneaky smirk. 

« I did, I went to the toilet, I went to the kitchen to- »

« That’s not what I meant » you paused him with an amused voice.

« Come on’ Y/N, I studied like a monster these days ! I had to play to relax. »

« Yeah yeah, be careful not to play too much »

« Yes mom…But anyway, how as your date with your charming prince ? » 

You sat down on the couch with your roommate, watching him play while you talked about the famous party Seonghwa asked you to attend. As you were telling him about the thing, his eyes widened and he paused his game again. 

« Wait, you’re talking about KQ Enterprise’s party ? »

« Yeah…How do you know ? » you arched a brow.

« My boyfriend works there too and he told me about it, but I refused to go. » he answered as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

« Wait a minute ! I thought your boyfriend was working in a bar ? »

« Y/N, it was the previous one. »

You rolled your eyes to the ceiling. You gave up about San’s love life as he was changing often.

« Okay, but since when have you been dating this guy huh ? And why you didn’t tell me ? You know Seonghwa’s working there as well »

« I forgot ! Anyway, he asked me to come too but nope, not my thing. »

« Please San, go with him ! I don’t want to go alone ! » you begged your friend.

« You won’t be alone, there’s charming prince with you »

« It’s different ! » you claimed « He’s working there ! I will feel like a stranger there, and gosh, imagine if I do something wrong ? Ugh »

« Alright alright, I will talk about it with Wooyoung » he sighed, defeated. 

« I love you San ! » you laughed, feeling victorious. « And, the name’s Wooyoung ? »

« Yeah, he’s the manager of I don’t remember which team »

The world was so small you thought for a while before you thought of Jongho.

« By the way, my brother will soon be discharged and he asked me if he could live with us for a while before taking his own place ? »

« Your brother ? Jongho ? Ooh he’s going to be soon discharged already ? Of course he can, I don’t mind. »

« Nice, I’ll let him know »

You were really glad you were going along with San and so he was with your own acquaintances. You thanked him again and went to your room. Some days passed by, and Seonghwa texted you but never talked about the famous party which made you frustrated because you were literally searching for something elegant but not expensive, which was impossible. Until one day when you came back home after your classes. 

« Y/N ! You received a package » said San while passing by to his room.

« Me ? But I haven’t ordered any thing ? » you mumbled, intrigued.

San shrugged and joined you to the living room where the so called package was here on the table.

It was quite big, nicely wrapped in a white paper and black silk ribbon. 

« Open it » suggested San, curious. 

« Hey, wait, don’t you think it’s weird ? Are you sure it was for me ? »

« Are you Y/F/N ? » asked San, ironically. « Cause that’s what the delivery man asked, so I said you lived here and he left after shoving me the package. »

After a moment of hesitation, you unwrapped the package to discover a black box. You opened it to discover a pink beige dress and honestly it looked so expensive that your poor salary of part timer couldn’t even pay a quarter of it. San’s eyes widened so as yours. 

« Wait- Who is it from ?! » a bit panicking on the spot.

« I don’t know ! The guy hasn’t told me ! »

You picked up the dress to look at it closer, and gasped when you saw the brand inside.

« San- I think I’m going to faint…Yves Saint-Laurent. Can you see ?! »

« Y/N, I don’t wanna make you panic more, but look there is a card inside. »

He pointed a silky white enveloppe you took quickly to open it. 

« Dear Y/N,

I heard you were worried about the dress code of the party. Here’s a present for you. In hope to see you soon. 

CEO Kim Hongjoong. »

There was a big silence in this room, your roommate and yourself looking at each other in disbelief before San opened his mouth and closed it, probably too shocked to say something. And so you were. Why did your boyfriend’s boss sent you this dress ? And how did he know ?!

[profoundpidgeon]

Growing up with the Miya Twins!

(this was in my drafts for soooo long jeeez)

Also I think this is my longest post yet so have fun, it made me ✨e m o t i o n a l✨

Warnings: Fluff! And I mean... emotional? In a sense (at least for me but I'm just a pile of mush in general)

Also gender neutral reader!

~ur lovely Pidge 💖

●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●

Y'all met when you first moved into their prefecture and it so happens that you were neighbors. They saw you playing in your backyard alone one day and decided to approach to see what you were doing

They asked if they could play and you wanted more players for whatever you were doing so you kindly accepted

And thus your friendship began

From this moment on, y'all did pretty much everything together whether that be going on mini adventures to pranking one another. There wasn't a secret kept between any of you, y'all were pretty much connected at the hip

When y'all got to elementary school, y'all made this promise to always go to the same schools, and y'all kept this promise.

They tried to impress to all the time, having compitions to see who can impress you the most.

They'd even went as far as saying they'd marry you someday and present you with flower crowns and other gifts.

When y'all got into middle school, nothing really changed much

Well except they got more involved in volleyball.

Like I said, y'all will be together through and through

I bet they tried to get you into volleyball but it just wasn't doin' it for you

so you settled for being the team's manager

and you bet they made you be their team manager for high school hooo boi.

Once high school rolled around, your bond with the twins was stronger than ever. You even became friends with the other team members and y'all just became a group of crackheads.

You would hang out with Aran and Kita while the twins were fighting since you were used to their baffounery. If you see Rin recording you ask him to send you the recordings so 1. you can keep them as a memory and 2. for blackmail.

OH GOODNESS they would be your protectors whenever you go to tournaments and such. Won't leave your side for a SINGLE👏SECOND👏. If you're ever alone for some reason or get lost and they find you and see someone flirting with you, hooo boi be prepared to have two tall bois just ~g l a r i n g~ at whoever is talking to you and than you being suddenly abducted.

anyways... moving on from tournaments...

GROUP HUGS!!! 💖💖💞

group hugs with these bois are the ABSOULTE BEST!

When they win a game, they'll be running up to you and almost knocking you off of your feet while you give them so much praise!

Either way, for Atsumu, whenever he hugs you be prepared to get the wind knocked out of you but in the end it's still worth it.

For Osamu, he would give you more side hugs than anything and the rare bear hug that's always so comforting and sweet. (for your eyes only tho.)

And you bet they both give you lil' cheek kisses now in then to show you lil' affection. Just to show you how much they appreciate ya. :)))

You would have many late night outings and help them with homework as best you can

Just imagine studying with Atsumu... Y'all would get no work done. That's where Osamu comes in and hits you both on the heads with Chem books. (Rip y'all would be getting headaches for days for how much y'all procrasonate)

I can just imagine y'all going out, creating whatever kind of foolery in a plain field with a sky full of stars and many laughs. (ooofff this is getting me emotional but MOVING ON)

Y'all just want to have as many fun times before graduation.

haha graduation...

many tears

many tears have been shead

mostly by atsumu

I mean he just kept on boasting all the time about how at graduation he's going to keep it together... well spoiler alert, he did not.

It got especially emotional when he got excepted into the Black Jackels.

So many tears of hapiness and joy (y'all were so proud of him and even had a mini celebration just the three of you)

And you BET it was the best celebration ever, you even drove out into the field like you used to all those years ago.

Now onto Osamu:

When he finally gets his dream in opening Origini Miya, Atsumu comes back to celebrate with y'all and y'all have a lil' opening ceremony!

There's little origini, sushi and ramen out on display and soon enough the restaurant will get the hype it deserves.

(if ya want, he'll probably ask you to become his sponsor of somethin')

Anyways all in all to wrap these headcannons up, this realationship lasts a lifetime and you're forever in eachother's contacts. (They'll be bothering you all the time by the way don't worry, they'll always be dumbasses and always proctect you, no matter where you are 💖)

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As always, thanks for reading my post lovelies!

[studiobeebo]

~♡ Shio, Shoyu, Miso ♡~ [1/?]

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x Female (she/her) Reader

Warnings: None

Words: 1.9K

Genre: y’all already know it’s just gonna be fluff

A/N: so i made a lil thing sorta based off this cute thing i saw on reddit. idk what i’m doing pls don’t ask.

reblogs are greatly appreciated as they are the main way to get my works around so please consider doing so if you like it! enjoy!

When you had first met Megumi, you honestly didn’t think much of him.

Now, that’s not to say you didn’t find him attractive, but a cute guy around your age coming into the shop with a few of his friends just really wasn’t something very noteworthy in your life. You had only been helping your parents around your family owned ramen shop for about a year or so, but that was long enough to know that the general demographic was people who wanted a tasty, warm meal without having to blow too much money. Needless to say, teenagers fit that demographic fairly well. 

Your shop was well known in the area, but it was by no means fancy. In fact the building was a tad bit run down, you didn’t even have any decorations or anything hanging up on the walls and the entirety of it only seated maybe thirty people, so it was clear people didn’t frequent the place because of the ambiance. No, the reason you always seemed to have a steady stream of customers was that the food was simply so good that despite the lack of an enticing atmosphere or even many food options, people couldn’t help but be drawn to it. That mashed together with your friendly family and the decent prices made for a perfect little neighborhood place to eat. So again, when a group of three slightly noisy teenagers sat themselves down at one of the bar tables on the far side of the seating area, you didn’t really have any reason to bat an eye.

“Hey welcome guys!” You put on your usual cheery customer service voice as you filled their glasses with ice water, trying not to lean into any of their personal spaces. “Your options are salt, soy, or miso ramen, with or without beef and or pork. Do you need some time to think about it or do you think you’re ready to order now?” 

Like you said, there weren’t many options.

“Oh, can I get soy?! Or maybe- hm, maybe I’ll have miso…”

“You’re tasteless, miso is the worst kind.”

“I bet you’ve never even tried it, Kugisaki!”

“They’re going to need a minute to think. That bit’s hard for them.” 

The taller boy with dark hair and an apparently permanent scowl on his face groaned out in annoyance, his eyes only meeting yours for a moment before he turned to yell at the other two to lower their voices. You nodded with a smile, leaving them to decide and chuckling to yourself as you moved on to ask the customers at the other tables if they were doing ok.

“Ok! Excuse me- er....crap, what was her name again Fushiguro?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“I don’t know, usually you remember to ask the important stuff like that!”

The not-so-subtle arguing was enough to catch your attention as you made your way back over to the trio, your smile being a bit more genuine this time around in response to their odd yet funny dynamic.

“It’s (Y/N), sorry about that guys! So, what can I get for ya?”

The three of them listed off their orders and after you repeated them back for confirmation, you gave them a quick thumbs up before going back to the kitchen to put their orders in with your dad. Within a moment of your absence, Itadori was turning to Fushiguro with that excited puppy look that adorned his face almost 24/7.

“She’s kind of pretty, don’t you think?”

Fushiguro’s eye twitched, but luckily Kugisaki was quick to butt in with an argument of ‘How come you’re only asking him what he thinks, huh?!’. It was a simple question, but what annoyed him was the added use of ‘kind of’. Itadori was extremely simple, so the thought that he only thought you were ‘kind of’ pretty irritated him because how could Fushiguro be here doing a double take just to get a better look at your features every time you spoke to them while Itadori just barely took note of it? It was uncharacteristic, but he couldn’t disagree. He could tell you definitely had a slight air of putting on a cheery showiness for the sake of good customer service, but either way, you were...cute, and he was insistent on leaving it at that without bothering to admit to it out loud.

“I hope you both know you’re paying for yourselves.” He interrupted, hoping their argument had moved on from their waitress so that he wouldn’t be asked about his thoughts on you again. 

“Eh?! Since when were you so cheap!”

“Ok guys!”

The three of them jumped slightly at the sound of your voice, simultaneously turning to see you holding up a tray with three steaming bowls of ramen sat atop of it. 

“Soy with beef, soy with pork..” You listed off while setting the bowls in front of the copper haired girl and the smiley boy respectively, “And miso with no topping.” You finished, eyes flicking up to meet the dark haired boys as you placed the final bowl in front of him. It was only for a moment, but you could have sworn your saw a speckle of pink dust his cheeks before he looked away from you with a short “Thanks.”.

“Mhm, no problem.” You hummed out, scanning your eyes around the restaurant to see if you were immediately needed elsewhere before deciding to continue and indulge your interest in the three, or more specifically, your interest in the cute boy with the black hair. “So... you guys are from that traditional religious high school, right?”

The pink haired one’s eyes lit up as he struggled to finish the noodles he was halfway through slurping up so that he could speak.

“Yeah, yeah! I guess our uniforms are a giveaway..”

You laughed, leaning your back against the empty seat that sat next to them at the bar. As if you needed any further confirmation, you could tell he was the energetic extrovert of the group.

“Yeah, you don’t really see many of them around. Though I’ve heard it’s kind of a hard school to get into.”

“Pfft, maybe for normal people, it was no sweat for us.” There was that copper haired girl again with a confident look on her face as she too stopped eating to interject, though you hardly took what she said in a bad way as she didn’t seem to mean any harm from it.

“That so? Guess I’ll have to call you guys next time I’m having trouble with my classes, I swear I can barely manage the workload I get.”

“Haha I feel that, I actually started school elsewhere but I just transferred a few months ago! Oh- I’m Itadori by the way! This is Kugisaki, and Fushiguro’s the sulking rude one!”

“Hey.” Fushiguro finally stopped his eavesdropping to join in, sending a glare Itadori’s way, but he just seemed to brush it off as if he’d been under his friends' scrutiny plenty of times before. After a moment though he turned back to you, though as much as he wanted to say something to you, he didn’t really know what to say. He wasn’t like Itadori or Kugisaki who could just strike up a conversation with anyone anywhere, but while he turned over his conversational options in his head, you pushed away from where you had previously been leaning and gave a sheepish, apologetic smile that easily brought his attention away from his thoughts. 

“No no you’re good- Sorry, I should be leavin’ you guys to eat anyway. Just call me over when you’re ready to pay or if you need anything, alright?” You spoke, your words being directed more towards who you now knew as ‘Fushiguro’, however it was his two friends who responded with an affirmation before going back to their meals.

Once again you were off to tend to other tables and do the other tidbits of your job, though this time your head was filled with questions galore. Did Jujutsu Tech students come into town often, or was this some special outing? What grades were the three of them in? And most importantly, you wondered if they would ever be coming back? You weren’t one to get flustered or form crushes easily, but you had to admit you were a bit taken by Fushiguro. He was cute, sure, but he had a cool, mature air about him that could make anyone be left wanting to know more about him, especially because most of the conversation you did have was with his friends and not him. However once again your mental flow was interrupted by Itadori waving you over, barely waiting for you to make your way by their side to start speaking while the three of them handed over their respective payments.

“That was crazy good, (Y/N), we’ll have to come by some time again if that’s ok!”

“It’s not like she’s the one making it, Itadori.”

“You realize that a restaurant’s whole goal is to get people to come back, right? Of course it’s ‘ok’..”

Despite Fushiguro’s matter-of-fact statement, his eyes still shifted to yours as if he secretly wanted to know if you wanted them to come back as well and the smile you gave him in return only solidified the fact that he wanted to return either way. Though of course he boiled that down to ‘The service was good and so was the food’, but part of him knew that was bullshit.

“I’d love to see you guys around again!” You said, collecting up their empty bowls as you spoke. “I work most weekends and some days after class so you should try to stop in while I’m here.”

“Hell yeah!” Itadori exclaimed as the three of them got up from their seats one after the other, Kugisaki and Itadori saying their goodbye’s as they pardoned their way through the tables and other customers to leave, though Fushiguro stayed behind for a moment, a hand rubbing at the back of his neck as he spoke.

“...Sorry about them, it’s practically like wrangling preschoolers whenever we aren’t on du- er, in class.” 

He knew the apology wasn’t necessary and that you didn’t seem all that bothered by either of his friends’ lively personalities, but he found himself feeling a bit...left out in the fact that he had yet to really speak to you. Why he even felt compelled to speak to you in the first place was a mystery, but he figured that was one question that didn’t really need an answer for right now.

“Oh, it’s no problem.” You laughed, giving another smile as you tried your hardest to not act as fidgety as you were feeling on the inside. “I mean- I’ve got friends like that too so I-“

“Excuse me?” 

A polite voice cut you off halfway through your sentence and you turned to see an older woman waving you over, clearly not wanting to be rude but wanting your attention nevertheless.

“Sorry-“

“You’re fine!” You sputtered out, maybe a bit too excited as you slowly backed away from him, “I’ll see you around if you guys stop by again, huh, Fushiguro?”

His eyes widened slightly, a bit surprised by that hopeful tone to your voice before he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips and a bit of slightly shameful excitement tugging at his heart. 

“Yeah, we’ll- I’ll see you around.”

[nearmidnightannex]

Lil Nas X as Jimi Hendrix (sort of) in VMan

I mean ....

VMAN 47 COVER STAR: LIL NAS X

The pop-rap superstar tells musician Kevin Abstract how his in-your-face performances help him live just as unapologetically

August 23, 2021

PHOTOGRAPHY: INEZ & VINOODH

STYLING: GEORGE CORTINA

TEXT: CZAR VAN GAAL

Lil Nas X’s road to fame wasn’t paved with gold—it was lined with jewel-encrusted cowboy hats, addictive TikTok challenges, and satanic strip-teases. From his first “yee-haw”, the rapper’s ascendance has been a pop culture anomaly...and the world hasn’t been quite the same since...

[...] [KEVIN ABSTRACT]: I think this is the perfect [segue] into the single “Montero.” The song was really about owning every part of yourself. It was liberating for a lot of people. Beyond that, artistically speaking, one thing that stood out to me was how you conceptualized the visual. I remember after the video came out, you released these screenshots of your notes, where you wrote the whole treatment out. What did it feel like when that vision for the video came to your head? Did you think maybe I am going too far or did you lean completely into the idea.

[LIL NAS X]: My mind is always like, “You can’t really create that. That’s not really realistic,” but I always tell myself to just write it down anyway, and if I change my mind, I change my mind. Although, I almost never change my mind (Laughs). For me, it’s always crazy to see it come to life, because it’s never exactly how you pictured it in your head...because nobody can actually see what’s in your head. But it always comes out better than I expected. I’m learning to trust myself and my vision. I think the [“Montero”] video was just the start.

KA: You were raised Christian, so how did your family respond to the “Montero” video?

LNX: My dad texted me the next morning. He was like, “I got through it.” Almost as if it was a bad movie or something. Even that was great [to me]. The rest of my family, I don’t think everyone’s going to be 100 percent honest with me about how they felt. But a lot of them were understanding, to say the least. And I understand from their perspective as well, growing up learning about certain groups of people and it conflicts with what you believe. Or rather what’s been pushed into your head over and over. I can’t really be to upset with you about what’s been forced into your head. So even if [they were] upset, I would understand, you know?

KA: Definitely.

LNX: And I’m not saying I would coddle them, but yeah, I understand....

And also:

MONTERO @LilNasX·Aug 23 life has come full circle, i officially work at taco bell again.

LIL NAS X IS NOW TACO BELL’S ‘CHIEF IMPACT OFFICER’ (vman.com)

August 25, 2021 TEXT: LUANA HARUMI

VMAN 47’s cover star Lil Nas X has been appointed the new “chief impact officer” for Taco Bell. The newly-created honorary role combines music and philanthropy and will also focus on the release of the Grammy-winning artist’s upcoming album, Montero.

The partnership will offer exclusive experiences to fans and customers along with “menu innovations,” starting with a cameo in the campaign to promote the return of Taco Bell’s breakfast menu to around 90% of restaurants nationwide by mid-September.

The musician’s history with the fast-food chain dates back to nearly five years ago when he worked at a Taco Bell in the Atlanta area in high school. He recently referenced the job in the music video for “Sun Goes Down,” and on Monday he announced the new role with a tweet saying that “life has come full circle.”

[laheyyisaac]

Overdue

chapter 3 — starting over

SUMMARY: Guinevere Bailey just moved to McKinney, TX in order to figure out her life. She meets Captain Hank Syverson at the local library, and she finds out she might have bitten off more than she can chew. PAIRING: Syverson x OFC WORD COUNT: 1394 A/N: holy shit! it’s been like 5 months! first of all, i’m so terribly sorry. i’ve been wretchedly depressed, and covid and grad school have simultaneously been beating the shit out of me with a wrench. or a lead pipe. not sure yet. either way. let me know what you think. i’m a bit rusty on this story, but i still want to at least finish it. not much of an idea where it’s gonna go. any thoughts? anything you’d like to see? lmk! TAGS:  @promptandpros​ @alyxkbrl​ @completelybonkersentirelymad​ @mylifefallingupthestairs​ @kissthatlifeaway​ @dangerouslovefanfic​ @michellemybelles-world​ @poledancingdinos​ @speakerforthedead0​ @omgkatinka​ @marswritings​ @misslalaland-blog-blog​ @oddsnendsfanfics​ @mzchievous-blog​ @auds24 @maizyistrash @mary-ann84 @justaboringadult @mis-lil-red @xxxkatxo PART 1 / PART 2

Captain Henry Syverson Jr. had never felt more like shit than he did now. He stared at his phone with a scowl on his face, still covered head to toe in soot. 

hope you’re okay. i’m headed home.

He’d screwed up the date he was having with a girl he thought was… well, incredibly pretty and incredibly funny. Sy closed his phone and sat it on his bed, going to his bathroom to wash off the remains of the barn that had caught fire last night. The barn had belonged to his mama and pop, and when he’d seen the smoke, he knew the animals hadn’t been moved out yet. Most of last night had been moving the animals out as fast as they could. So far, they’d only lost a hog and a calf in the fire, and a few were burned. It was...not bad, all things considered.

He still hadn’t had the nerve to text Guinevere back. He hadn’t had the nerve to go and see her either at the library. She most likely thought he’d stood her up, but the exact opposite was true. Sy stepped under the hot water, and he sighed as the drain tried to handle the near black liquid pooling down. He scrubbed his head as best he could. His hair was starting to grow back, already longer than he was used to. However, he wanted to grow it out. He missed his shaggy curls. The desert didn’t allow for that much.

He washed up as best as he could, and he realized his need for new shampoo and body wash since he smelled like a damn Bath & Body Works store. God love his mother, but she didn’t know what he liked anymore. And as lovely as lavender smelled, Sy didn’t want to smell like that. No, he much preferred his lovers smell like that. 

With a sigh, he stepped from the shower and dried off, looking over himself in the mirror. A few scars littered his chest, a few bullet wounds and the like. They added to his look. Or so he hoped.

He grabbed his phone and finally made the plunge, texting Gwen with all the humility he could muster.

I can explain. She typed back for a few moments, but then the typing bubbles went away. They started up again a moment later, and that continued for a few more minutes. Sy was practically having heart palpitations.

let’s hear it.

Our barn caught on fire last night, and I was out pulling the animals out. I completely forgot to text you. I’m sorry.

She started typing again. He didn’t have to wait long for this one. oh my god oh my god i’m so sorry! i must seem like such a jerk right now! ugh. i’m so sorry a thousand times over. do you want to reschedule?

Sy smiles. She’s sweet. Sounds good. I’ll be there this time. Hell or high water. Same place, same time tonight?

perfect. see you then, sy.

She sent a little heart emoji after that, and Sy was over the moon. Hopefully, nothing would ruin tonight. Then again, knowing Sy’s luck...

He made it there on time, meaning 5 minutes before. He got their table, set everything just right, and he waited. One minute before, Gwen stepped inside looking like the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. The mustard colored dress she wore perfectly complemented those eyes of hers. Took his breath away.

She looked nervous, and she was. However, he stood and waved a hand over to her. She beamed at him, trying to look like she wasn’t running towards him. It looked more like a brisk half-jog, which Sy appreciated. They were both excited. In their own ways.

He stood as she got closer, going around to pull out her chair for her. She flashed him a quick smile, and she sat. The tips of her ears were bright red. Sy had done his duty in making her blush, so he returned to his chair and sat across from her.

“I am so sor—”

“I am so sor—”

They both spoke at the same time, and they both laughed in tandem. “You go first,” Gwen said, brushing her hair from her face and putting her chin in her hands.

“I am so sorry, Guinevere. I should have texted or called you sooner to let you know what had happened. I wasn’t thinkin’.”

Gwen was silent for a while, and that made Sy fidget. He wasn’t fond of silences he deemed awkward, and this was one such silence. The Captain in him wanted to continue speaking, to talk and talk and talk until she had finally gotten it into her head what he meant when he hadn’t messaged her. But she spoke before he could actually say anything else.

“Nothing to be sorry about, Sy. Not like you set fire to your own barn. Unless you did, and if you did, I’m required to report you to the authorities.” They both laugh, and Gwen reaches out to take his hand across the table.

“Sorry for the miscommunication,” she breathed, finally. “Do over?”

“Do over. Howdy.” He raises their hands to shake. “My name is Hank Syverson Jr. But you can call me Sy. I’m a Captain in the U.S. Army. Who in the world are you, young lady?”

She laughs and shakes his hand right back, thumb brushing along the rough texture of his hands. “I am Guinevere Bailey, local librarian and nuisance. But you can just call me Gwen. Or nuisance. Again, I answer to both.”

It only goes up from there. Turned out that the army captain and the librarian shared a deep love of Tolkien and fantasy series of all sorts. He had a deep affection for video games, and though their tastes differed — he preferred combat heavy games and Gwen preferred story driven games — they both agreed that video games were quite fun no matter the genre. They laughed. They shared dessert. They lost track of time. They were gently reminded of the restaurant’s hours, and Gwen started to pull out her wallet to help pay for her dinner.

“Now now, little lady, let me get this one.”

“Only if you promise I can get the next one.”

Now, Hank was a chivalrous man, an old fashioned man. But he also never said no to a free meal, and in a refreshing turn for Guinevere, he said — “Deal.”

She smiled. “I really like you Hank Syverson Jr. I really, really like you.”

“I like you too Guinevere Bailey. Now c’mon. We’re wearin’ out our welcome.”

They left the restaurant, and the stars twinkled above them, cradling a bright full moon. Sy took a chance and linked their arms together, much to Gwen’s delight. She took his arm and leaned into him. They walked around historic downtown for a bit, continuing to chat and observing the old, beautiful buildings. By the time they’d made it back to their cars, the time was nearly midnight. They stood outside Gwen’s car, and he looked down at her, tall and towering.

“I had a nice night tonight, Gwen.”

“Me too, Sy. We should do it again sometime soon.”

“We should, and I should start goin’ to the library more often. I think I still got some books that are overdue from the fifth grade.”

“You’re going to get in trouble, Sy.”

“As long as I’m just in trouble with you. Night, Gwen.” Then, “can I kiss you?”

The question surprises her. Not many ask her. So she simply nods before letting out a resounding “yes. I’d like that.”

He leans down slowly, and Gwen’s lips part at the sight. He descends and places the softest kiss right there on her cheek, his beard tickling her jaw. She laughs at his tease, and he pulls back with a wink.

“Didn’t think you meant it like that, Syverson.”

“Hey, I never specified where. Buy me dinner first, and we’ll see where it goes.”

They both laugh again, and they linger. Neither wants to go home. Neither wants to stay. It’s kind of chilly, but neither will say anything if they can help it. It’s Gwen who breaks the silence, though.

“One more for the road? The other cheek’s getting jealous.”

“Yes ma’am. Whatever you say.”

[iam93percentstardust]

Any kidfic recs where they have a lil kid but not a teenager? 🥰 Love ya!

Definitely! Kidfics tend to be very hit or miss for me since child development can be very hard to get right but the ones that I do like, i tend to positively love and frequently reread

You didn’t specify a ship so I went with Stevetony, Winteriron, and Stuckony, but I’ve separated them by ship so you can easily pick and choose which ones you want to read:

Stevetony

Of Strippers and Snow Shovels by @betheflame

Tony has some questions about what Peter's dad does for a living after Peter draws an ... interesting picture about why his dad is his hero.

Practically Perfect in Every Way by @betheflame and @hogwartstoalexandria

Tony Stark is a lot of things - billionaire, former playboy, professional philanthropist - but a few years back he added two more titles: widower and single father. As Peter keeps growing, Tony can't seem to keep a nanny. Thankfully, his employee James Barnes has a solution.

Art therapist Steve Rogers is really tired of living grant cycle to grant cycle, but is wary when he gets an opportunity from his best friend's boss to be his child's live-in caregiver. He hates Bucky's boss. But then he meets the kid and then he gets to know Tony and then...

And then they all live happily ever after.

Rockabye by @bladeofthenebula27

Cute alphas didn’t appear out of nowhere to help ruined omegas. That was a widely accepted fact.

Tony Stark had always known his life wouldn’t be easy as a genius omega in an alpha’s world. But not even he predicted getting knocked up and forced to move to a small town in the middle of nowhere.

Some things can’t be hidden by @s-horne

“What?” Peter sat up in the booth, suddenly alert. “Dad, what is it?” He followed Tony’s eyes right to a man in the doorway of the restaurant. A big, blond and young man that even Peter could admit was attractive.

“Is that him?” Peter asked. “He’s young.”

“He’s 32,” Tony argued, though he was still pale and didn’t shift his gaze.

“Have you actually seen proof of age? Because he looks young, Dad. Like not that much older than my age. Have you checked his ID? There are some good fakes out there, just warning you.”

“Will you be quiet?” Tony hissed, lifting his hand and waving to the man. “He is perfectly legal, thank you very much.”

Peter watched as the guy lit up as soon as he noticed Tony, awkwardly dodging the lunchtime crowds as he tried to make his way over to their table.

“Hi,” he said when he reached them, a beaming smile on his face. He made a motion to kiss Tony before his eyes flickered to Peter and he changed his course, pressing his lips to Tony’s cheek instead and stepping away quickly.

Adventures in Babysitting by @s-horne

Bucky babysits Peter for the first time on his own. There are cuddly toys, tears, cupcakes, and bedtime stories.

It Takes a Village (or a team of superheroes) by aven_garde

Three months after the Chitauri attack, Tony received a phone call that changed his life. (Or, the one in which a group of remarkable people come together and balance battling villains and raising a child).

In Trouble Deep by @festiveferret and @sirsapling

"Whoever did this has a reason, and Stark needs to be with someone who can protect him. He won’t exactly be able to protect himself like this.” Fury looked at the baby consideringly. “No, it’s you, Steve. Besides, he likes you. Suck it up, soldier, you’re stuck with him.”

Tony, Please by @festiveferret

Steve is doing just fine nursing a painful crush on his most captivating client. That is, until his babysitter has an emergency and drops Steve's six-year-old daughter off at his work. Somehow, everything goes off the rails.

like-like by nanasekei

Morgan doesn’t really know Captain America.

And honorable mention cause even though it’s just a pregnancy fic right now, I’m holding out hope for a sequel with a baby:

Baby’s Breath by @s-horne

Wow. Tony’s mind went blank when his eyes moved involuntarily and focused in on where Nurse Rogers was pointing something out on the computer screen. It was nothing, really. It was a blob roughly the size of a jelly bean. The picture wasn’t even clear. It was black and white and so ridiculously grainy that Tony couldn’t see clearly.

Oh. Actually, the reason he couldn’t see clearly was because of the tears in his eyes.

“Wow,” he said, voice breaking on the short words. “That’s…”

“Your baby. Right here.”

Tony fell silent again, just taking it all in. That was his baby. His child. A whole little person living inside of him, ready to grow and stretch and make his body do all kinds of weird things. Nine months of his baby inside of him and then eighteen years of them living in Tony’s house.

Somehow, it already didn’t seem like long enough. Seeing it on a screen wasn’t enough either. Tony wanted to reach out, to trace the tiny image with his fingers and try and feel what little extra he couldn’t inside of him.

After a long moment, he licked his lips. Shit. He was having a baby.

“Steve would love this,” he breathed out.

Winteriron

High Noon in Sandbridge (part of the Nights in Sandbridge series and does rely on some of the other works in the series, so make sure you read those first if you haven’t already) by @tisfan and @27dragons

Life is pretty good for Bucky and Tony these days. The restaurant is doing well, and they’re happy with their little family. Then Bucky’s sister meets an untimely end and Bucky and Tony are suddenly guardians to a niece they’ve only met a handful of times. Their attempts to make a home for the bereaved child are complicated by Tony's mother, Bucky’s ex-lover, and the man who claims to be Billie’s father. But whatever her parentage, Billie is a Barnes through and through -- stubborn and hot-tempered and not remotely interested in making a life in the one place that her mother had sworn never to return. Will she ever learn to call Dockside and Sandbridge home?

Place in Your Heart by potrix

They try to hide it, Bucky can see the effort they all put into making him more comfortable, but Bucky isn’t stupid, he knows they’d rather have him somewhere else, somewhere far away from their home, the place where they’re supposed to feel happy and safe.

The Long Way Round by potrix

“Maybe we shouldn’t see each other anymore,” Tony blurts out in a rush. “It’s—I think it’s for the best. If we stop.”

It takes a moment for the meaning of the words to register, but when it does, Bucky turns cold, stomach sinking. “Are—are you breakin’ up with me? Tony—”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Tony hurries to reassure, reading Bucky’s mind. “You were perfect, Bucky, I swear you were. Are. This. It’s not. It’s really not you,” he says with a small, humourless chuckle, “it’s me.”

Bucky looks at the tense line of Tony’s shoulders, at the sad set of his mouth, the defeat in his eyes, and he knows it’s the truth. Or, at least, what Tony believes to be true.

 Or; sometimes, people mean well, but that doesn't always mean they know best. Bucky and Tony, unfortunately, have to learn that the hard way.

Letters to a Soldier by CityofAngels

When Peter Stark, son of the famous tattoo artist Tony Stark, signed up for a program to write letters to a soldier, he didn't know what Bucky Barnes would change in his and his father's life...

Boys Will Be Boys by NotEvenCloseToStraight

When Peter and Harley can't stop fighting at school, Dad!Tony and Dad!Bucky meet up to try and figure out a way to keep the peace between their kiddos, but end up falling for each other instead.

Stuckony

‘Til the End of the Line by Avengers_Whore

“Steeeeeve!”

“There’s the lil devil now,” Bucky murmured fondly. “Lemme see ‘im.”

Steve laughed and nodded his head, walking out of the kitchen and heading towards the bedroom. He opened the door and sighed when their omega was nowhere in sight on the bed. He made his way towards their closet and opened the door, pointing his phone at the brunet curled up in all of the clothes.

Fennel Root & Super Soldiers by @betheflame

Peter hasn't stopped crying for weeks and Tony is nearly at his whit's end. Thankfully, Steve and Bucky have a plan.

Forging Bonds by Huntress79

Just when Tony thought that his relationship with Steve and Bucky is safe and stable, he learns of a son he apparently has. How will “his” soldiers react to the sudden addition to the household?

[chibioomi]

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐞 - 𝐩𝐭 𝟐

￫ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐞 ! : prohero!bakugou x prohero!reader

summary: he’s used to grabbing the attention from everyone in the room, mainly due to his loud persona. everyone seems to know who is but her, and that bothers him. he makes it his mission to get her to notice him.

tags: fluff, lil bit of romance, lots of crack

                  ───────────── .°୭̥ ❁ ˎˊ˗

y/n was staring at bakugou in pure confusion. “do you remember me now?” what did he mean by that? was he someone she was supposed to remember? 

blinking at him a few times, your eyebrows furrowed together. you were racking your brain for the many possibilities you would know the strange man that propelled himself into the air to get your attention. was he someone you went on a date with at one point? or someone you had saved? 

“i’m sorry but . . . no, i don’t?” a nervous laugh escaped your lips as you gave him half a smile, rubbing your neck. he held an aura that was so familiar yet so foreign. 

the blonde man just looked blankly at you. you could’ve sworn you saw a look of disappointment on his face, but it disappeared just as quick as it came, if it was even there. it almost made you feel kinda bad for not knowing who he was. almost. 

“well, if you don’t mind, i’m gonna go-” your finger pointed to the sky as you prepared to take off, but the man held his hand out, signaling for you to stop. 

“we went to u.a. together. you were always hanging with todoroki and deku. i don’t really know how you would constantly forget where our class was, but you always did, without fail. one day you asked mina to teach you how to do this crazy stupid dance move and you knocked over two lamps in the dorms with your wings, and aizawa-sensei punished you to a week of cleaning. i’m not sure how, but you were always the only person that never even looked my way. and i thought i liked it at first, but anytime i tried to actually talk to you, your dumbass would act like i was some complete stranger.”

as he listed off a bunch of different random events from your high school years that you vaguely remembered, it creeped you out at first. how did he know all of this about you? 

narrowing your eyes at him, your head tilted to the side. this was what you believed to be your first time actually getting a good look at him. his hair was full and spiked, and it looked like it took him either hours or no time at all to do it. i wonder if it’s softer than it looks . . . his red eyes held a different type of understanding to them. as if he’d went through a lot, even at his young age. which would make sense, if he said he was in the same class as her in high school. 

that’s when it clicked. you were thinking about the few times she hung out with mina and her group of friends. there was always that one angry person at them that was constantly yelling about something, most of it you would usually drown out. you weren’t sure why he was so uptight about everything, and if his throat ever hurt from shouting all of the time. 

but the name wasn’t coming to you. 

“i think- it’s- oh ! bakubro, right ?” what a strange name. 

“huh ?! no !”

“no ?” you weren’t going to continue to guess, not really fond of hearing him shout too much. “look, i’m sorry i forgot you, or whatever. i’ve never really been good at remembering things. i hit my head a lot when i was learning to fly,” raising your index finger, you tapped your temple a few times. “still do, sometimes. buildings have it out for me, i swear ! i don’t even see them half of the time, then bam ! i’ve hit a window !” he didn’t look all that entertained at your explanation, but that’s all you could give him as some sort of explanation. “but um . . . i’m l/n y/n,” you offered your hand out to him. he seemed so keen on grabbing your attention, the least you could do was entertain him for a little. 

“bakugou katsuki.”  the name was so familiar to you. you could clearly hear aizawa-sensai saying it as if you were still in his class. “a lot of people used to call me kacchan.” 

“you’re kacchan ?!” eyes widening, you took a step back from him. midoriya still talked about him whenever you two got together, and even though all of the stories he’d told you about them from their middle school years, you’d expected a different demeanor from bakugou. even from the very limited encounters you could remember. 

he was always so loud, crude, and oh so very  rude. 

but here he was. he had put his life in danger just to get you to remember his name. 

“well, kacchan, i promise i’m not gonna forget you any time soon.” 

                   ───────────── .°୭̥ ❁ ˎˊ˗

four months had passed, and you and bakugou spent almost every weekend together. even during work throughout the week, you’d swoop down to his patrolling area to grab lunch or just walk around with him. you honestly never thought you’d find yourself calling the man you couldn’t remember for the life of you, your best friend. 

bakugou grew fairly comfortable around you. he quickly caught on, noticing that you didn’t like when he yelled, so whenever you were around him, even when he was out with the bakusquad, he’d dial his tone down until he saw that you were no longer flinching at the sound of his voice. you’d later explain that you never really liked when someone would yell at you, or anyone else in that matter. as a kid, when you weren’t aware that your wings took up more space in a room, you would knock down different things at home and at school, which would cause your parents and teachers to yell and scold you. and the protective person in you didn’t want anyone else to feel so belittled. 

he also began to learn the little things about you. he learned what your favorite color was, your go-to meal after rather hard days of patrolling, that the gold on your wings was in fact something you were born with, and how ditzy you really were on a daily basis [ which he found rather adorable, but he wasn’t going to admit outloud ]

and today was one of those days in which you never failed to remind him how much of a clutz you are. 

your landing wasn’t the prettiest one, your heels skidding against the pavement, stopping a few feet in front of bakugou, when you were ideally aiming for just behind him. once your feet were planted on the ground, you turned to face him with a small pout etching the features of your face, your wings drooping low, hinting at the fact that you were upset about something. groaning quietly, walked over to you, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“what happened this time?” he asked, knowing you had some stupid story to explain the look on your face. 

“what do you mean this- yanno what, nevermind. i got this big ass bruise on my forehead because some people don’t take into account the fact that there’s flying heroes !” prodding at the darkened skin, she then winced at the feeling. 

“you ran into another building, didn’t you ?”

“no ! maybe . . . okay, what if i did ? what does the glass gotta be so clear for ?” throwing her hands in the air, her wings lifted also, causing her to get glares from the people passing by that she hit. muttering a few sorries, bakugou started to question how she even became a top hero, and how she even managed to go from five to four in the few months he’d known her. sure, she was popular with the kids, and people found how dumb she was just an act for interviews. if only people really knew . . . 

“you outta be more careful, dumbass.” 

“blah, blah, blah, dumbass this, dumbass that. that’s all that ever comes out of your mouth when i tell you this stuff ! it’s like you don’t care. you’re a sadist, aren’t ya ? you like seeing me in pain, huh ?”

“y/n, please shut up.”

“just admit it !”

“no.”

“oi, you’re no fun.” narrowing your eyes at bakugou, you then crossed your arms over your chest. “grab lunch by yourself.”

“you’re such a big baby,” grabbing your forearm, bakugou started to drag you down the sidewalk, to your dismay, along with all of the bystanders that were hit by your wings. finally tearing your arm away from the pro hero, you started to walk along with him, knowing if you tried to make a break for it, it would cause a scene since he would chase after you. 

once you made it to the ramen shop you both frequented, you took your usual seats at a booth in the far corner. it gave a nice view of the city outside, and it was close enough to one of the exits, so that if something went down, you’d easily be able to exit the restaurant.  

after ordering, you both fell into a silence. usually he’d be ranting on about something his friends did the day prior, or some dumb “extras”, and in return you’d catch him up on the adventures of the dekusquad or whatever interesting thing that happened or what you saw on patrol. and at first, you found it comfortable, until each time you glanced up at him, he’d suddenly redirect his attention somewhere else, and vice versa. 

when did i get so nervous around him ?

“stop staring, you weirdo,” you finally said, and that caused him to laugh. finally, something to break the growing tension. 

“i could say the same to you,” squinting at his statement, you rested your chin in the palm of your hand. 

“what’s on your mind, bakuboo ?”

“how many times have i told you not to call me that ?” instead of answering his question, you shrugged your shoulders. thinking of your question, he had to turn his head to hide the blush that was growing on his cheeks. you. you were on his mind, and have been a lot, lately. ever since you two became closer, you’ve plagued his thoughts and sometimes even dreams. it almost felt like you were taunting him. 

“you know, you sure do talk about that y/n a lot,” kirishima stated one night he, bakugou, denki, and sero were hanging out. y/n had offered to take mina out clubbing so the boys could have some ‘time to themselves’. 

“no i don’t, shut up, shitty hair.” plopping down on the couch of his apartment, he flipped on the movie they’d all picked out. 

“it use to be about how she never notices you, and now it’s all lovey-dovey.” denki added, settling into his spot in front of the couch, popping a few kernels of popcorn into his mouth. the statement earned a hit to the back of head from bakugou. 

“maybe he likes her,” sero made sure he was a good distance from his explosive friend when he added his comment, but it didn’t save him from his glare. 

it wasn’t even a statement bakugou could bring himself to reject. why would he lie about it ? he did like you, and it was an annoying feeling. he wished he didn’t, that would’ve made his life so much easier, especially when he was the one that would go out and help y/n pick out dresses for the different dates she’d go on. none of the men ever [ gladly ] lasted long. they’d make it up to date two before either y/n declined the offer for the next one or they’d do something stupid, and she’d bluntly say you’d never want to see them again [ that she learned from bakugou ] 

kirishima could see the storm swirling inside of his friend’s head, and he leaned over to nudge his side. “why don’t you tell her ? what’s the worse that could happen ?” 

“you’re thinking about me ?” y/n’s eyebrows raised in surprise as you tilted your head to the side. 

“huh ?” furrowing his eyebrows out of confusion, bakugou turned to look at you. 

“i asked what you were thinking about, and you went ‘you’.”

did he really say that out-loud ?

“oh, um, well-”

“well, i was thinking about you, too, bakuboo.” you interrupted with a grin, reaching both of your hands out to grab one of his. “i know this is gonna be corny and you better not make a  big deal out of this, and you know, if you don’t feel the same way, we’ll just act like it never happened. but i do like you a lot, katsuki. a lot more than, yanno, just being friends.”

at first, bakugou didn’t know what to say. he wasn’t expecting a confession, honestly. he’d always thought he’d be the first one to say something. but it makes sense, with how fast your thoughts come, and how scattered they are. the cold wind hitting his hand from where yours were previously grabbing his pulled him out of his thoughts. your sudden burst of confidence had evidently died away, the way your wings folded around yourself, something he realized you did when you were nervous, embarrassed, or felt unsafe or uncomfortable. he assumed you were a bundle of nerves at this point, with his prolonged silence. 

“i like you, too, dumbass.” he finally replied, reaching back out to take your hand. 

“really ?” his words pulled your attention away from the edge of a napkin you were picking at. 

“i wouldn’t have said it if i didn’t mean it.”

“you say a lot of things you don’t mean !”

“no i don’t.”

“yes you do ! like when you said that you hated deku.” bakugou snorted, taking a sip from his water.

“i do hate deku.”

“nah, i think you’re in love with him. always picking fights and whatnot. you just want his attention.”

“i’ll start picking fights with you more often, then.”

“. . . no thank you.” 

A/N: i’m supposed to be doing my assignments for business but :D i got bored and this was calling to me. i wasn’t gonna post until tomorrow but i’m kinda excited, imma start on my todoroki fic soon and work on a bunch of haikyuu headcanons. anyways, i hope you guys liked this one, i might make it a mini series just because i really like the idea of bakugou with someone a little ditzy and i have no idea why