#for the fifth time these past ten months

[dragonspleenistasty]

Honestly sometimes it's hard for me to remember how I was like, the innocent kid in when I was younger? Like I was the nerd who didn't get the jokes because I didn't know jack about shit, despite being raised with the internet? And I'm remembering that side of me and it feels so... weird.

Like I can still see that part of me showing up every now and then even though it's so disconnected with how I am now and. What the fuck

[soft-girl-musings]

Salt & Pepper

Moon Knight System x GN!Reader

cross-posted to ao3

tags: rated T for teasing, domestic fluff, author does not condone touching people's hair without permission, no use of Y/N

wc: 1,078

fic summary: Marc, are you familiar with the term "silver fox"?

A/N: i might have a problem lol

_____________________

“Put. It. Down.”

Marc Spector does not startle easily. So when he nearly falls from his perch beside the bathtub, you’re surprised you have to steady him.

“Jesus, where’s the fire?” Marc picks up the towel and small cardboard box he’d dropped because of your outburst.

Shifting your focus, you zero in on the latter: hair dye, just as you’d suspected.

“So this is what you get up to when I’m away?” You tut, cradling his temples and shaking your head. "What happened to you?" 

"What? Nothing, I'm-"

"-I wasn't talking to you," you sigh, resting your forehead against the crown of his head. "How long has he been treating you like this, you poor things?"

“Ha-ha.”

You release his face to study it. "But seriously, how long have you been dying your hair?”

 “... For a couple of years. Started to turn gray from stress a while back, and I guess it never stopped.” He fidgets with the loose edge of the container.. “You really never noticed?”

You take the box and set it beside him. “You hid it well.”

You’re not judging him for dying his hair, it’s just… surprising. Marc’s never been one to fuss over his appearance, as far as you could tell. When you first saw his closet, you’d half expected it to be lined with the same outfit ten times, like in a cartoon. Most days, “dressing up” means adding a jacket or blazer.

 “Since when do you care? About your hair, I mean.” 

He shrugs. “I’m not gettin’ any younger, honey.”

“Neither am I.” You kiss the bridge of his nose. “You got a problem with that?”

“Of course not.”

“Good. Goes double for me, don’t you forget it.” Leaning in, Marc tries for another kiss, but you duck and grab the hair dye before turning away with a mischievous smirk.

“Gotta keep you honest,” you wink and dart out of the room before he can catch you.

_____________________

"Love?"

"Hm?"

"Might fall out if you keep playing with it like that.”

You’d been standing behind Steven for the past couple of minutes, meaning to check in on his preparations for his morning tour but had gotten distracted. Very distracted.

“Sorry,” you sigh, your fingers leaving the wisps of hair at the nape of his neck and trailing down to his shoulder. “It’s just… hm.”

Your conversation with Marc must have taken root: over the past few weeks, you’ve noticed the hair that had been dangerously close to another round of boxed dye abuse steadily turning lighter. A subtle blend of silver strands mix with the darker curls that frame his face, making his hair shine a bit brighter in the light of the desk lamp.

“It’s like starlight,” you finally state, leaning in to rest your head against his.

Steven sputters and puts his book aside. “Starli- that’s a bit much, yeah?” His brow furrows, but there’s no denying the smile tugging at his lips.

“Not if it’s true,” you contend. You adjust the reading glasses that had slid down his face and tuck a stray curl behind his ear. “It’s a good look on you.”

There’s no denying the heat rising to his cheeks when you talk. “This– you don’t–” Steven caves and sets his book down, hopelessly flustered. “Either go away or get over here. Cheeky.”

He makes room for you to settle into his lap, which you giddily accept. Your hands sink back into his curls and he shivers as you scratch his scalp.

“Did I ever tell you I had a thing for my professor, once upon a time?”

“Oh my days–” 

You’re not sure who kisses who, but you’re certainly not complaining. Neither is he.

_____________________

The time apart has been agony.

You check your phone for the fifth time this evening. They’ve been gone for what feels like months (it’s been weeks) handling some business in California, of all places. Marc said he’d call when they were on their way home, meaning no news is sad news.

You’re pulled from your pity party by a knock on the door. It’s late, and you’ve already signed for your dinner delivery. Slowly, you get up and grab the bat you keep by the entrance (with a sock slipped over the end per Jake’s advice).

The knocking continues, getting more urgent. You take a deep breath and look through the peephole. A large brown eye stares back and you yelp, dropping your bat. The unmistakable boom of Jake’s belly laughter mocks you from behind the door.

“You’re hilarious,” you groan, standing the bat back on its head and unlocking the door.

You’re ready to lay into him when you open the door, but you’re stunned into silence. Jake’s smile is highlighted by silvery stubble, dusted with black. He adjusts his cap as his dark eyebrows raise in mock surprise.

“What, no hello?”

You tear your eyes away from his jaw. “Hm? Oh. Hi.” You open the door wider for him to step in. “Marc said you’d call first.”

“No fun in that, is there? Besides, you looked ready to handle some trouble.” he shrugs off his coat as you lock the door behind him.

“Trouble, yes. Nuisance, debatable.” You sidle up to him and drape your arms around his waist. You place a kiss on his cheek; it’d be impossible for him to not notice how you let yours drag along the rough line of his jaw.

“I missed you too,” he laughs again. “But man, is it warm in here…”

He tosses his cap and it takes everything in him to not lose it when your eyes widen at the sight of his hair, now more gray than black and curls longer than you’ve seen them before. You’re too enraptured to be embarrassed at your obvious loss for words.

“Your hair…” You reach up to touch it, but Jake grabs your wrist.

“Tsk, tsk, you threaten and barely say a word to me, then go straight for the goods without so much as a ‘please’? What happened to decorum, hm?”

“You fucking tease,” you huff. “...please?”

“Well, since you asked nicely–” Jake can barely finish his thought before your lips are on his, your hand tangled in his starlit hair as soon as he lets go.

“I take it we should cancel Marc’s haircut?” he murmurs as you catch your breath.

Your free hand grazes the scruff on his cheek and you grin. “I wouldn’t complain if you did.”

_____________________

A/N: marvel you cowards give us gray-haired moon knight

ty for reading <3

event tags:@moonknight-events @spacecowboyhotch @juneknight

addtl tags: @mrs-lockley @lunar-ghoulie @shadystarlightgentlemen @casa-boiardi @nerdieforpedro @queerponcho (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)

[shadowtriovibes]

the train ain't even left the station

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: G

Word Count: 2K

Summary: request: "If you're up for it I'd love to see a small lil fic of Sebastian sending his child off to Hogwarts for the very first time! Like maybe Sebastian is telling them about his adventures with Ominis and MC to make the child less nervous or just letting them know how exciting things will be for them :)"

in the same 'verse as "it's a sign of the times" [AO3]

Sebastian sets her down and rests a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Not too good, alright? It’s worth breaking a few rules every now and then to make a friend, or do what’s right.” “Like how you met Uncle Ominis and he showed you the Undercroft?” she says eagerly. A few feet away, you look up sharply from where you’re hugging Simon goodbye. “Did she just say ‘Undercroft?’” “No,” Sebastian and Anne-Marie say in unison.

September 1, 1910

Suspended overhead in the bustling terminal of King’s Cross Station is a massive clock. Every morning, hundreds of thousands of Londoners – both Muggles and wizards alike, though more often the former – pass underneath the clock as they hurry to catch their trains. Many will casually glance up to ensure they’re still on time as they make their way to work, school, or even the lucky few off on holiday.

As it happens, the first day of September brings countless students to the station on their way to boarding schools all over the U.K., meaning the station stays especially crowded well into the late morning. Worried mums and impatient dads all turn their eyes toward that clock, hoping their sprogs won’t be left on the platform on their very first day of school.

Just as the minute hand slides into place at the very bottom of the clock, a handsome young family emerges from a tiny waiting room positioned at the far end of the terminal.

Hundreds of Muggle men in their funny, black suits and odd little bowler hats have already walked right past the waiting room without sparing it a second glance. In fact, had any of them paused to do so, they would have read a small sign affixed to the door that simply read, “Out of Order.”

But inside that waiting room is a grand fireplace. Not just any fireplace, mind you – one that roared brilliantly twenty-four hours a day, never needs stoking, and, perhaps most importantly, spews out bright green flames.

Sebastian Sallow first exits the waiting room with a precarious cart loaded up with trunks, birdcages, and even some broomsticks of all things. If the Muggles passing by thought anything of the man’s rather odd collection of travel items, no one said a word.

He glances up at the clock and grins.

“Ten thirty,” he says confidently over his shoulder. “See? I told you we wouldn’t be late.”

Beside him is his young wife. Their smallest child, a boy just a few months shy of his fifth birthday, is dozing in her arms. Behind them are their oldest children, a pair of twins, chatting excitedly as they follow their parents toward the barricade between platforms nine and ten.

“Doesn’t it seem a bit redundant to Floo all the way down to London just to put the children on a train back to Scotland?” Sebastian mumbles as your family weaves its way through the flowing crowds.

“Perhaps, but all the children love riding the train,” you remind him fondly. “It’s a Hogwarts tradition, especially for the little ones.”

Having never had the chance to take the Hogwarts Express yourself, you find yourself mildly envious of your eldest children, both of whom will soon be taking their very first journey on the school’s scarlet red steamer train.

“Besides,” you add teasingly. “If I recall, you and Anne met Ominis on your first train ride to Hogwarts, correct?”

“Fine, I suppose you’ve got me there,” Sebastian relents with a soft smile. “I rather think this whole journey will have been worth it if the twins happen to make lifelong friends who save their lives several times over.”

“Do we have to?” your son Simon pipes up, sounding wary. “Because I packed a book I wanted to read.”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow at you and gives you a look that reads, He is your son through and through.

“Trying to prove you’re a Ravenclaw already, are you?” Sebastian teases him. “Just like your mum, you are.”

“I’m going to be a Slytherin like you, Daddy!” your daughter Anne-Marie chimes in proudly. “Even Auntie Anne said so!”

You and Sebastian exchange a fond, albeit exasperated look. Ever since Anne (and eventually Sebastian) had accepted the life-limiting curse placed upon her by Rookwood, she’d instead focused on honing types of magic that don’t drain her of her energy or cause her any more pain. She’d found comfort in Divination and has grown into a very powerful Seer, though she often uses her gift to rile up your children with premonitions of being spoiled rotten on their birthday or soundly beating the other village children in their broomstick races.

However, predicting that your mischievous little girl will end up in Slytherin is a fairly safe bet, you imagine.

“I won’t be the least bit surprised if that’s true,” Sebastian says warmly. “But just know your mother and I will love you all the same no matter which house you end up in.”

“Even Hufflepuff?” Simon asks nervously. “Ernest from the village says Hufflepuffs are boring.”

“Don’t forget your Auntie Poppy is a Hufflepuff,” you tease him. “She’s anything but boring!”

That seems to cheer Simon up a bit, but your sweet, slightly shy boy falls back beside you as you get closer to the platform barricade.

“Alright, my love?” you ask him softly.

He reaches for your free hand and squirms up tightly against your side. “It’s really big…”

You size up the high brick archway before you. To the naked eye, it appears as solid as rock, and despite Sebastian’s reassurances that it’s perfectly safe to run straight at it, you imagine you’d be intimidated as well if you were only eleven years old.

“Don’t worry, darling,” you reassure him. “Your father and I will come with you to the platform, you won’t have to go through alone.”

He nods wordlessly and you squeeze his hand. Ever her father’s girl, Anne-Marie takes Sebastian’s arm and the two of them push the wobbly luggage cart straight at the archway, and in the blink of an eye, they’ve vanished.

“See?” you murmur to Simon. “Not so scary, is it?”

With your youngest still propped against your hip, you and Simon walk toward the barricade at a slower pace. You glance around to make sure no Muggles are watching as you slip through the magical brick facade, and then in the blink of an eye you’re on a pack platform surrounded by wizarding families and children in bright, colorful robes.

“Over here!” Sebastian calls out, and you see that he’s pulled the cart right up to the train.

“Help each other with your trunks, just like that,” Sebastian says as Simon and Anne-Marie first carry the trunk marked with an “S.S.” aboard the carriage and then return for the other marked with an “A.M.S.”

Then they carry in their owls – both young tawny birds raised from hatchlings, a gift from their Aunt Poppy. Finally, they return for their brooms, which Sebastian knows for a fact they ought not to have as first years, but he hopes he can talk Headmaster Weasley into looking the other way once they arrive with the intent of trying out for their house Quidditch teams.

(Raising your children in a wizarding village had been quite an eye-opening experience for you. Your twins have been on broomsticks since they could walk, and over the years their godfather Ominis has insisted on making sure they always have the latest model – one for each, so they won’t squabble over sharing.)

You pull Anne-Marie in for a tight hug once the children finish unloading their cart.

“You’ve got everything you need?” you ask her, pretending your voice hasn’t gone thick with tears. “I’ve packed you both some sweets for the ride, remember to share with your new friends, and write to us as soon as you get back to your dormitories please–”

“Yes, Mum,” she says, somewhat impatiently. “We promise we will.”

Anne-Marie kisses her littlest brother goodbye on his chubby cheek, fondly brushing back some of those messy brown curls your husband had given him.

“Why don’t you let your father give you a hug goodbye, sweetheart?” you gently prompt her.

You expect you’re the only one who’s noticed that Sebastian’s eyes have gotten a bit wet as he’d watched his children load up their belongings on the train. Even though he’d likely try to deny it if you prodded him, he sincerely looks like he could use a hug.

As soon as Anne-Marie approaches him with her arms out, Sebastian scoops her up against his chest like he’d often done when she was much smaller – only now her legs nearly touch the floor, and soon he’ll only be able to sway her like this with her feet firmly planted on the ground.

“Have a great term, sweetheart,” he tells her softly. “I can’t wait to hear all about it – even the parts that’ll exasperate your mother.”

“I promise I’ll be good,” she says ruefully.

Sebastian sets her down and rests a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Not too good, alright? It’s worth breaking a few rules every now and then to make a friend, or do what’s right.”

“Like how you met Uncle Ominis and he showed you the Undercroft?” she says eagerly.

A few feet away, you look up sharply from where you’re hugging Simon goodbye. “Did she just say ‘Undercroft?’”

“No,” Sebastian and Anne-Marie say in unison.

You narrow your eyes suspiciously and decide to leave it be for now, but as soon as you turn away, Sebastian leans down and whispers, “Write to Uncle Ominis and ask him where to find it. It’s a Sallow’s rite of passage.”

“I will,” she says excitedly. “And I’ll bring Simon.”

“Good girl,” he says proudly.

Anne-Marie manages to free Simon from your weepy grasp so that Sebastian can also pull him in for one last hug, reassuring his son he’ll be proud of him no matter which house he eventually calls home. Then the two link arms as they make their way toward the train, climbing up the stairs behind a gaggle of redheaded children (whose surname you could likely guess on the first try).

They settle into a compartment halfway down the carriage. Anne-Marie eagerly presses her face against the glass and makes a silly face at Sebastian, which he delightedly returns. Simon waves goodbye as well and holds up the book he’d packed, showing it off as if to say, “See Mum? We’ll be just fine.”

With your groggy son in your arms and Sebastian’s arm around your shoulders, you watch as the train slowly starts to rumble down the tracks and into the brilliant September sunshine. It’s carrying your children ever closer to your home, and yet further away from you than they’ve ever been.

You hide a few tears against the lapel of Sebastian’s robes; he kindly wipes away the rest with a handkerchief and kisses the redness on your cheeks and nose until you’re smiling once more.

“They’re going to have an incredible year,” he whispers to you. “It’s Hogwarts.”

You simply nod, not trusting yourself to answer without a stray sob slipping out.

Dozens of parents begin to Apparate away from the tracks as soon as the train rounds the corner, but with your youngest, you’ll need to make your way back to the station’s Floo flames to get home safely. This time pushing an empty cart, the three of you slip back through the brick barricade.

“It sure will feel quiet when we get home,” Sebastian says a little sadly.

“We’ve still got the littlest one,” you say softly, cradling your sleeping boy’s cheek as he clings to you through his nap. “He’ll keep us on our toes enough as he gets older.”

“I suppose,” Sebastian sighs, still sounding morose even as he reaches over and gently strokes the back of his fingers down your singleton’s back.

Then he perks up and raises an eyebrow at you. “Or perhaps we could try for a fourth?”

You shoot him a withering glare. “Not on your life, Sebastian Sallow. We’ve just sent the twins off to school, I think that means we should actually get to enjoy some peace and quiet for once.”

(Though when your twins come home for the winter holidays with countless tales of their adventures with new friends and their pockets stuffed full of Zonko’s products, Sebastian gets to be the one to tell them they’ll have a new baby sister the following summer.)

[nrdmssgs]

Sharing one bed with your friend from 141

Masterlist Little oneshots. Sharing a bed, because there is only one left free.

TW: Please note, that in every situation, a reader is an old friend of one of the four and there is a bit of sympathy beyond friendship between them!! So I wasn't trying to make TF 141 a bunch of awkward scary guys, that hug you without any reason and consent!! Don't worry, none of them would ever harm you, guys!!!

Simon Ghost Riley

"I warn you, I'm used to sleeping alone, so I may hog the blankets. If it happens so - don't hesitate to wake me up, ok?"

Ghost glares at you and chuckles briefly. "I get to sleep in a normal bed only once every few months. Don't think you can steal anything from me."

You sigh and turn away: well, at least you warned him. He may be some kind of super-soldier, but he is yet to discover, how fury an inveterate solo-sleeper can be. "Nighty." But he doesn't answer you - must have fallen asleep immediately.

You wake up in a tight, warm cocoon of blankets: obviously yours and his. But when you try to move - it appears harder than it seemed at first. Something, or rather someone, presses all these blankets down to you. So you turn your head only to meet Simons menacing, unblinking gaze.

"You saw nothing." His hand guides you by your chin to lay back down on a pillow, facing away from him. Then he goes back to wrapping you in a tight embrace. "I got cold, and you refused to give my blanket back."

Captain John Price

"Lemme know if it gets too warm. I got feedback about being a human furnace for a couple of times." Despite the fact, that he just laid down beside you - Johns voice is already sleepy.

"I believe, you have to hug another person to get such a comment." You answer and laugh at Johns immediate 'oh, shi... sorry' and a friendly pat on your back, covered with blanket.

"Sleep well," wishes you Price. And that was... exactly, what you planned, if the man hadn't start snoring in ten minutes.

At first, you tried to be gentle, touching lightly his shoulder to make him go quiet. But when he woke you up for the fifth time in a row - you punched him so hard - you must have left a bruise on his back. But John Price could sleep on a military base. He could sleep in a flying helli between the missions, being surrounded by shouting soldiers. Even your punches feel like a tender caresses in comparison to the chaos, in which he sometimes has to fall asleep.

He wakes up only when you almost throw him off the bed. "John! You snore like a freakin bear!" You are out of energy and already consider going to sleep on a floor in another room, only to get away from this nightmare.

He blinks a couple of times, obviously not waking up fully, then scoops you up, nuzzles your neck and whispers in a sleepy ruffle voice "M`sorry, love. You should let me know right away, if I wake you up again."

Perfect: now he's mistaken you for someone in his sleep! Well, at least, he really stays quiet, as he is hugging you. So you decide to let him do it, as long as it grants you sound sleep.

On the next morning, Price inspects his back in the mirror, when you walk past him. "Never considered enlisting in the military? I could use a furious little beast like you..."

Johnny Soap Mactavish

"Soap, for f sake, you are a grown man, what are you doing?" You grunt, as yet another decorative pillow hits your back.

"Building a wall, lass. Otherwise, you'll end up on my side of bed as usual!" He isn't even thinking of stopping, so the next pillow hits your head.

"Johnny, Hadrians Wall took less time to be built up! And I repeat for the hundredth time: I don't have a single idea, how does it happen, but I swear, it's not me! I don't tend to move in my sleep. When I'm alone - I always wake up in the exact same pose, I've fallen asleep!" You try to grab a pillow to throw it away, but he doesn't let you.

"Well, then it's my natural charm, that just drawn you to my side every time." Soap finally places the last pillow up on his 'wall' between yours and his sides of the bed.

You wake up in the same place you've fallen asleep. Only this time you are buried under the remains of Johnnys 'masterpiece' from yesterday. Grunting, you try to get out from under a pile of pillows, but you feel Johnny's whole body pressing against you from behind with a displeased rumbling. And only then it hits you.

You turn to him and whisper in his sleeping face. "It was you all this time. You grabbed me and pulled to your side of the bed, you sneaky bastard..." Johnny mumbles something incoherent in his sleep and only presses you closer to him.

Kyle Gaz Garrick

"Ok, good night." Kyle turns the light down and goes silent.

You lie awake for some time, listening to the sounds outside the window, but gradually you fall asleep. However, very soon, you startle and open your eyes: there is someone in the room, you two are no more alone. You hear the wooden floor crackling closer. Someone's shadow falls on the wall. You are frightened, but you lie quietly, blaming it all on your imagination. And then you feel the mattress sag under someone's weight at your feet.

At that moment you understand, you had enough and in one swift motion dart to Kyle, ending up on top of him. It wakes him up and for a few moments, he looks confused as his eyes adjust to the darkness. But when he understands, it's you, he relaxes. "Ahem, hi?"

"There is someone in this bed. Someone besides us!" You whisper, shifting your weight to the side, so that Kyle is left to defend you from the mysterious threat.

He turns the bedside lamp on and starts laughing almost immediately. Your friends dog, that apparently freaked you out so badly, now curled up all cozy on your side of the bed.

"Hi buddy! You were feeling lonely, so you came to us, yeah?" Kyle scratches the dog behind the ear, and it happily beats the blanket with its tail. You breathe a sigh of relief, a little embarrassed at being so scared. However, you don't give Kyle a chance to start joking about this and push him closer to the center of the bed, settling in where he just slept.

"Okay, congratulations, now that buddy is your problem. I'm going to sleep!" You try to ignore Kyle's soft laugh.

"You're going to fall out of bed at night and scare the poor dog." He pulls you closer to him. "That's better. Sleep. And I'll protect you from this 'dire wolf'."

[slut4thebroken]

The Deal

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | frat/fuck boy!Robert Fisher x reader

Summary | You’re supposed to be tutoring Robert but he needs your help “taking care of something” before he can focus.

Warnings | Smut, public sex, dumbification, “accidental” creampie, fingering, kissing, him being kinda pervy, a little degradation, technically misogyny, coercion?, praise.

Words | 2.2 k

Notes | ty @hllywdwhre for all your help 😭🙏🏻

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Ever since the first time you tutored Robert at his place and he fucked you, you refused to go anywhere private for your sessions. Which usually meant you’d meet up at the library or a cafe. Today was no different. You met him at the library at 4 pm and, as always, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of your body. 

“Robert, you actually have to look at what I’m writing to learn this.” You huffed, getting annoyed when you caught him staring at your tits for the fifth time in barely ten minutes. 

“It’s not my fault you’re showing them off. I thought nerds were supposed to be prudes.” He smirked, making you blush a little. Honestly you didn’t get why Robert was paying for you to tutor him in the first place. He clearly didn’t care about learning the material. 

“I’m not... “showing them off.’” You muttered. “If you want to actually pass this class, you should figure out how to pay attention.” He smirked at your attempt to be stern with him. 

“You know, I’d be able to pay attention if my dick wasn’t hard.” He said casually, making you choke on your spit as your eyes widened. You still weren’t used to him talking like that. “And you look so fuckable in that sluttly little skirt.” His gaze dragged down your body to stare at your bare thighs. 

“Robert, stop.” You warned, making his smirk widen. 

“You said you want me to pay attention.” He said coyly. “So you can either get under the table and suck me off or we can go somewhere more private and I can fuck my load into that tight little cunt I haven’t been able to stop thinking about for the past month.” His voice was low and thick with arousal, and you swallowed audibly when his eyes fluttered back up to your face. 

“N-no. We’re not doing that again, it was a mistake.” You cringed when you heard the waver in your voice. 

“A mistake? Baby, if it was a mistake then why did it feel so good?” He purred. 

“I’m serious, Robert.” You’re not the type of girl who partakes in one night stands and you’ve felt embarrassed and ashamed for weeks because of how easily you gave into temptation. 

“So am I.” All of the amusement in this tone was suddenly gone. “Either stand up or get on your fucking knees.” You couldn’t help it when your thighs squeezed together a little from his words. “Well?” He asked impatiently. You bit your lip and looked away, trying to convince yourself that you didn’t want to do this again. And yet…

His smirk returned when you reluctantly got to your feet. “Good girl.” You followed him to the back of the library and once you were in a secluded area, he pushed you up against a shelf before pressing his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, forcing a muffled sound of surprise from you. His hands roamed your body, squeezing your breasts, going down the curve of your waist to your hips, then down even further to feel the soft skin of your thighs. As one hand snaked up underneath your skirt and cupped your heat, he let out a low groan into the kiss. 

“God- I’ve missed this fucking cunt.” He whispered, moving down to start kissing over your neck. “And these tits.” His free hand pushed both your top and your bra up above your breasts. 

“Robert, wait.” You whispered, trying to pull it back down. But he quickly leaned forward and took your nipple into his mouth, suckling on the hardened bud, effectively keeping you from covering yourself. “Someone could walk by.” You whispered more urgently this time, then gasped when his hand suddenly slipped in your panties to start rubbing your clit. 

“Shh… Just be quiet and we’ll be fine, baby.” He murmured against you before simultaneously moving his mouth to your other nipple and pushing two fingers inside you. He let out a low, appreciative moan when he felt the tightness of your walls practically suffocating just two fingers. “I forgot how fucking tight you are.” He groaned, curling his fingers against your walls, making your hands fly up to cling to his shoulders. 

“Robert.” You whimpered. He suddenly bit your nipple lightly, making you gasp as your hips bucked. 

“I can’t believe I’ve gone all these years fucking the whores who throw themselves at me and not the nerds who keep their cunts nice and tight by not sleeping around.” He chuckled, pulling back to look at you as he pushed a third finger in. You let your head fall back against the shelf as your mouth opened in a silent moan, your hips just barely grinding on his hand. You could feel the bulge in his pants pushing against your leg now and you started panting at just the thought of what was about to happen. 

When your back arched slightly, jutting your exposed breasts out more, he cursed under his breath and removed his fingers to start unbuckling his belt and opening his pants. You gasped as he suddenly spun you around and bent you forward a little. Wasting no time, he swiftly pulled your panties down just below your ass, then used one hand to hold your hip, while the other lined his cock up with your entrance. 

“Wait— Condom.” You said quickly, making him pause. He huffed but released you and you looked over your shoulder, watching him pull out his wallet and look through it 

“I don’t have one.” You bit your lip and glanced down at his cock. It was already beading precum and so incredibly flushed— your cunt pulsed at the thought of it finally inside you again. 

“Okay- okay, just pull out.” You said firmly and he nodded before eagerly getting back into position. “I’m serious, Robert.” You said, making him roll his eyes. 

“I know— I will.” He said impatiently. Once you got his verbal agreement, you turned back around, letting him line up again. The thick head of his cock dragged through your slit, spreading your arousal before pushing up against your hole. When his cock breached your entrance, you had to bite your lip to muffle the whimper that slipped out. He continued pushing deeper until his hips were flush with your ass and you let out a shaky breath as your walls struggled to accommodate the intrusion. 

“Fuck- ease up, you’re practically forcing me out.” He grunted, moving both hands to hold your hips as he paused. 

“Sorry.” You whimpered. You didn’t really know why you were apologizing though since you couldn’t help how tight you were. He kept a firm grip on your hips as he slowly dragged his hips back and when he moved forward again, your legs trembled and you quickly clung to the shelf to hold yourself up. 

“I swear… this is the best pussy I’ve ever fucked.” He said through a breath, making you whine quietly. “Wraps perfectly around my cock.” He started thrusting a little faster now, but not fast enough to make too much noise. You had to cover your mouth with your hand because you were getting just a little too loud and you knew Robert wouldn’t stop because of that. If anything he’d probably fuck you harder just to make you moan louder. 

When he leaned over you so your back was flush with his front, then grabbed your breasts, you bit down on your hand, trying to stay quiet. Robert squeezed and groped you greedily before focusing on your nipples, rolling them between his fingers until you were gasping out.  

“I bet the only reason you wanted to have these sessions here was so that I’d finally rail you in public, out where anyone could get a free show.” You whimpered and squeezed your eyes shut as you shook your head a little. “I felt your cunt tighten up when I said that…” He scoffed in response to your weak protest. “Who would’ve guessed that the nerd was actually a little whore.” He chuckled, making your cheeks burn with a dark blush. 

“You wear these slutty tops that show off your tits, these tiny little skirts that barely cover anything…” He stood straight again and flipped your skirt up, giving him a clearer view of your ass bouncing with each thrust. “And fuck— when you wear those fucking glasses, I swear I get harder than I thought was physically possible.”

“Robert..” You whimpered, the sound coming out muffled beneath your hand as you reached down to rub your clit that was throbbing almost painfully by now.  

“I know.” He cooed mockingly. “You’re so smart all the time… I bet you’ve just been waiting for someone to finally fuck you into the brainless bimbo you pretend not to be, huh?” 

“Oh god…” You sobbed quietly, knees buckling as you got closer to your release.  

“You get a cock in this needy little cunt and all that IQ just disappears instantly.” He chuckled, the sound a deep rumble as he tried to stay quiet. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll let you tutor me if I get to fuck all those thoughts out of your pretty little head after. How does that sound, baby?” You mewled and nodded, back arching, unintentionally pushing your hips into his. “Good girl.” He said through a breathy laugh. 

His hands settled on your hips again and he sped up even more. He wasn’t holding you enough to keep you from falling to the floor as your legs turned to jelly, so you had to take the hand off of your mouth and hold yourself up, wanting to keep rubbing your clit. All you could focus on was Robert, his cock, and your impending orgasm. 

“Wanna come.” You whined, making him laugh again. 

“Yeah? Does that needy pussy want to cream all over my cock?” He cooed, his mocking only pushing you closer to the edge. When you mewled and nodded again, he said, “Go ahead, baby. Show me how much you love being my bimbo bitch.”  

You rubbed your clit impossibly faster, now chasing your orgasm more eagerly since you had his permission. When the knot of arousal in your stomach finally snapped, your knees buckled, almost sending you to the floor, but Robert held you up and pushed you into the bookshelf a little more to keep you from falling. Wave after wave of pleasure rolled through you and you tried to keep your sounds quiet, but with his cock still fucking you relentlessly, your efforts were unavailing. 

Robert was moaning quietly behind you at the feeling of your walls convulsing around his cock and with one final grunt, he pulled your hips back to meet his thrust. You whined as his cock twitched with each rope of come that spurted out, painting your walls. The sounds he was letting out were starting to make you needy all over again, but soon enough they quieted into heavy breathing as he rested his body on yours, panting against your neck. 

“Fuck…” He hissed, finally leaning up again and slowly dragging his hips back until his cock slipped out of your fluttering hole. He pushed you down farther so that your torso was almost parallel to the floor, then grabbed your ass cheeks and spread you open, watching his come dribble out of your puffy folds. 

His come. 

Fuck. 

“Robert.” You whined once you realized that he didn’t pull out. 

“What?” He asked absentmindedly, playing with your sensitive pussy and pushing his come back inside before pulling your panties up around your hips. 

“You said you’d pull out..” You heard clothes rustling, then he was lifting you up and turning you around to fix your own clothes. 

“Sorry, baby, I forgot.” He said, with no remorse in his tone. “You just felt so good.” You stared up at him through your lashes as you pouted. When he realized you were about to say something again, he pulled you into another kiss. You draped your arms over his shoulders, needing a little help standing on your legs that still felt like jelly. 

“Excuse me!” An offended voice said from the end of the aisle. You both turned to look, finding one of the older librarians standing there with a cart full of books to be reshelved. “That’s hardly appropriate for this setting.” She scoffed. 

“I’m so sorry, ma’am. Thank you for the warning, it won’t happen again.” Robert said with an ingratiating tone as he placed his hand on your lower back to guide you past her. She even blushed when he gave her that charming smile he usually uses to get what he wants.  

As you walked back to the table, he leaned down to speak against your ear. “Next week I’ll see you at my place. I expect you to uphold your end of the deal.” Your fucked out brain could barely even remember what he was talking about when he said “the deal” but you blushed when you realized what you technically agreed to just a few minutes ago. Maybe you were still cock drunk… but the idea didn’t seem too bad now.

[mikeysw1fey]

my friends sister

pairing: jenna ortega x female reader

warnings: none just fluff

a/n im so gay guys. holy fuck. and jenna is just soooo hot.

I’m not sure when I figured out Jenna wasn’t just my best friends sister. When she became more.

Aliyah didn’t know. I couldn’t do that to her. What kind of friend would I be if I told her I was inexplicably and irrevocably in love with her older sister?

So it has to end, I have to turn her back into just my best friend sisters. Yet, Jenna’s face continues to plague my mind like a bad dream. One that had zero sign of ending.

Running my hands down my face, skin stretching at the pressure I groan and launch myself face first atop my bed.

Why had I promised Aliyah I would stay at hers tonight? Jenna was of course going to be there. I mean she lives there. Fuck.

My phone buzzes under my stomach forcing me to turn over and squint at the messages on my lock screen.

Aliyah of course. Her texts continue to come in as she begs me to come over now with the simple excuse of ‘I’m bored’.

Rolling my eyes doesn’t stop the messages which leaves me with no choice as I respond with an all capitals FINE.

I arrive at Aliyahs house in a little less than ten minutes, texting her a quick ‘I’m here’ before walking towards the front door and knocking.

The door swings open before I can place my hand at my side revealing the one person I did not want to see today.

“Hey,” Jenna smiles as me, her pearl white teeth causing my cheeks to turn red. “Hi.” I remain outside, frozen, as she chuckles. “You can come inside you know .” She shakes her head and opens the door wider allowing me to walk in.

“Right, thanks.” I nod heading into the house I had been in a million times before. “I like your shoes.” Jenna’s voice is soft, glancing at the converse I had on my feet. I frown for a split second, I had worn these shoes to this house for the past four months. “Thanks, I like your… face.” I blurt out, internally slapping myself in the face. But before Jenna can reply Aliyah comes bounding down the stairs and tackles me in a hug basically saving me from extreme embarrassment.

“Dude, I have to show you this crazy ass movie, it’s gonna scare the shit out of you.” Aliyah tugs on my arm pulling me away from Jenna and up the stairs. I glance over my shoulder for a second, instantly blushing as Jenna’s eyes catch my own and her lips turn up in a small smile.

“Ok what movie?” I ask planting myself on Aliyahs bed as she moves her laptop from her desk to beside me. “Well it’s kinda basic but I wanted to watch it. Scream.” She laughs as I raise an eyebrow. “Isn’t Jenna in it?”

“Well yeah but only the fifth and sixth one so we don’t have to see her. Thank god!” She shrugs leaning back against the bed. “Oh yeah…Right, thank god.” I reply following her movements.

Hours pass, the light slowly dimming as we watch Scream 1 to 3 before I hear slight snoring from beside me. “Aliyah.” I whisper turning to see her passed out silhouette. I laugh silently before turning off the laptop and moving it to safety.

“I’ll be back, I’m going to the toilet.” I whisper to no one in particular seeing as Aliyah is sleeping. Creeping out into the dark hallway, I move towards the bathroom before letting out a shriek as a hand grips my shoulder.

Turning on the spot I shove the person into a wall, holding their shoulders tightly. “Hello to you too?” Jenna’s voice makes me cringe as I recognise her, a subtle frown on her face. “You shouldn’t scare people after they have just watched a horror movie.” I breathe placing a hand on my heart after I remove my hands from her shoulders.

Jenna chuckles moving closer to me. “My apologies.” She whispers ghosting her hand over my own. My breathing begins to speed up at the close proximity of our faces in the darkness.

Silence fills the air, the tension so thick I could almost see it. “So, you like my face?” Jenna smirks, her teeth almost glowing in the moonlight. “Oh, uh. That didn’t mean to sound as stalkerish as it did.” I sigh glancing at the floor only for Jenna’s finger to tilt my chin back up to look at her.

“Well for your information I like your face too.” She whispers glancing down at my lips as she does. Her breath tickles my mouth as she leans in closer, our lips basically touching. “Tell me if you don’t want this.” She whispers seriously. “I want this. I want this.” I reply before surging forward and connecting our lips.

Jenna moans against my mouth, her hand rushing to the back of my neck to pull me deeper into the kiss as my hand presses her waist flush against mine. “My room?” Jenna pants pulling away slightly. I bite my lip unsurely as I glance back to Aliyahs room.

“Your sister…” I trail off, Jenna’s hand moves to my cheek, thumb stroking my cheekbone gently. “My sister won’t know, it’s just for a few hours and she’s asleep right?” Jenna smiles.

“Oh, just a few hours?” I frown and Jenna stammers slightly, confidence faltering. “No I just meant like you would only be in my room for a few hours, this,” She gestures to the two of us. “Isn’t just a few hours.” I nod slowly before pressing my lips against hers softly. “Ok.”

Her hand intertwines with mine as she takes me towards her room. Jenna’s quick to close the door as we enter before pressing me down against the bed and crawling on top of me. “Kiss me.” She whispers and I nod not needing any further instructions as I pull her head down to my own connecting our lips.

Waking up the next morning, I groan as the light floods into Jenna’s bedroom. I mumble to myself before turning to the body wrapped around my own. Jenna. Shit. Realisation rushes through me. I never went back to Aliyahs room last night. “Jenna, Jenna wake up.” I gently shake the girl who groans and buries her face into my chest even further. I pause admiring her for a second before a cough from the door way attracts my attention.

“I fucking knew it.” Aliyah stands at the door with her hands on her hips, one eyebrow raised, staring at the two of us. My eyes widen as I scramble out of bed effectively waking Jenna up who curses as she catches her sister at the door.

“I knew you two had a thing. Ooh this is so cute.” Aliyah squeals. I pause in my haste to come up with an excuse. “You what- so you aren’t like fuming?” I scoff wrapping my arms around my knees as I bring them to my chest. “Im a little pissed that you didn’t tell me that MY SISTER is the one you are in love with. And Im pissed that Jenna didn’t tell me that my best friend is the person she’s crushing on. But whatever. I think you guys are cute. But if you break her heart Jenna I’ll slaughter you.” Aliyah grins before clapping her hands together and leaving.

“That went better than expected.” I breathe, the anxiety crushing my chest finally disappearing. Jenna simply nods with a smile before moving over to me and wrapping her arms around my shoulders.

“So your in love with me hmm?”

[ranhaitanisgf]

hi! could i request headcanons or oneshot (either is okay) for bonten timeline sanzu haruchiyo with an excitable, extroverted reader? thank you so much, and no worries if not! (+ also your theme still says rqs are closed, but i saw you posted them being open two hrs ago :3)

pay attention to me!!

synopsis: how would bonten haruchiyo act w/ an excited & extroverted s/o?

☆ a/n ˎˊ˗ idk if yall can tell but ive never written for mr haru lawl ... also !! i added a little mini oneshot cause i couldn't help myself :3 thank you so much for requesting !! this was so cute to write !! i hope everyone enjoysss xoxo

☆ characters ˎˊ˗ sanzu (akashi) haurchiyo x g/n!reader

☆ wc ˎˊ˗ 2.7k+

masterlist

❥ sanzu thinks you’re annoying at first. 

❥ he doesn’t notice at all when you first move into his apartment building; he doesn’t take much care in noticing small things like that if it didn’t relate to bonten. his work and mikey were the only important things to him, so when he hears excited squealing seeping through his walls one day, he thinks that his neighbor has a kid, (which quite frankly annoyed him, but he decided he didn’t care enough to do anything about it). 

❥ there was no estimated time as to when he would get home--ranging anywhere from 6pm to 4am--so it takes at least a month or two for him to meet you officially. coincidentally, he had been going out to grab a drink from the convenience store when you were excitedly jumping around outside your door, a delivery package in your hands. 

“oh! omg, are you sanzu-san?!” “...hah? who’re you?” “oh my gosh, i’ve been knocking on your door everyday for the past month, but you never seemed to be home! i never got to introduce myself to you! i’m (l/n) (y/n)! i moved in not that long ago, so i wanted to get to know my neighbors!”  “‘kay. bye.” 

❥ the only thing he wants to do is get away from you; he doesn’t want to be bothered with civilians, much less someone as annoying as you seemed to be. seriously, why were you talking so loud?!

❥ much to his displeasure, you followed him all the way to the convenience store, talking his ear off about the most meaningless things he’s ever heard of in his life, (how does somebody talking about nothing for so long?!) as he purchases his drinks and walks back to the apartment building. it takes everything in him not to snap at you; if he did, he would probably wake up all the neighbors from raising his voice, which wouldn’t be ideal since this was already his fifth apartment in the last six months. 

❥ he’s unsure how you possibly couldn’t get a hint that he didn’t want to be bothered, especially after he only said a maximum of ten words to you in the whole thirty minutes you were following him around, (are you really that clueless? is this what loneliness does to people?). it does take him by surprise that you aren’t scared of him though; you’d shown absolutely no sign of apprehension despite the scars around his mouth, which he supposes shows a bit of good character from you. not that he really cares. 

❥ he’s more than happy to shut the door on your face when he gets back to his apartment, finally indulging in the peace and quiet of his apartment, (he doesn’t think he’s ever been so happy to hear nothing). right when he’s opening his bottle of sake, he hears squealing through the walls. when you start monologuing about whatever you’d received in the mail, he just decides to quit and go to bed. 

❥ sanzu isn’t sure how, but you have somehow made it your routine to follow him places whenever you ran into him. he also isn’t sure why he continuously allows you to tag along with him, but as long as it doesn’t affect his work, he doesn’t really care. 

❥ you’re always talking about something; the weather, your coworker’s strange behavior the other day, or the stray cat you saw in the alleyway that ran away. there are times when he tunes out your talking and uses it as white noise, but you never seemed to get upset at the fact that he visibly is zoning out. 

❥ after a while, he gets used to your constant presence around him, so much so that he finds it strange to not hear your excited yammering while he’s at work, (although he supposes he wouldn’t want to have that constantly in his ear while he’s doing ‘business’ with someone). 

❥ the one thing that gets the attention of the rest of the bonten executives is when he suddenly stops going to the clubs, leaving whatever work he had there for during the day when it was barren. it was such a drastic change in behavior; sure, sanzu was never the type to be obsessed with the scantily dressed girls in the club, but he was known for taking some home every once in a while. at the very least, he was known for getting various types of substances from sketchy dealers who frequently attended. what’s even stranger to everyone is the fact that he slowly starts to engage in less substances, (though he still does every once in a while) which is what rings the alarm bells. 

“oi, sanzu.” “what do you want, ran? i’m fuckin’ busy.”  “well, it can wait. the fuck’s been up with you lately? you’ve been acting weird as shit.” “so?”  “so, what the hell’s been up with you?” “none of your goddamn business, that’s what.”  “woahh, easy there, man. seriously, somethin’ bothering you?”  “i said it’s nothing, so drop it.”

❥ by the time he realizes what he’s been doing, it’s too late for him. you and your talkative self have wiggled their way into his heart, setting up camp to stay for a while. he had a glimpse of a thought of it when ran was confronting him, but he immediately pushed it out of his mind because how could that possibly be true? 

❥ it can’t be true, even if he unwillingly likes to think about it now. he can’t let himself think about it; you were one of the most strange yet innocent and pure people he’s ever met, so how could he willingly taint you with someone like himself? no, he wouldn’t let it happen.

❥ and just like that, everything seems to be back to normal for him. he goes to the club even more than he did before, and the amount of substances he uses seems to increase exponentially by the week. he begins to sleep on the couch in his dingy office instead of going home so that he doesn’t run into you, only going home for the bare essentials every couple days, (and even then, he leaves after just a few minutes). 

❥ it’s just his luck that he gets out of his car the moment you turn the corner onto the apartment building’s block, seeing him in plain sight as he freezes for a moment. and then he unfreezes because 1.) why is he of all people scared to run into you? he’s a bonten executive, he’s killed people before, so why was his heart beating so fast right now? and 2.) he needs to get away from there. right now. 

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

“hey!! not so fast, haruchiyo!!” you shout, your steps hastening as you try to catch up with him. sanzu can hear your steps behind him, but his long legs give him the advantage as he quickly ducks into the apartment building, smashing the elevator button and tapping his foot as it decides to be as slow as it possibly can be. 

he lets out a ‘tsk!’ sound when he notices you enter the building, promptly looking away from you and looking cooly at the blinker indicating what level the elevator was on, (can this thing move faster?!). 

“stop ignoring me!! where have you been?!” you questioned, your voice a mix of worry and anger. “i’ve been knocking on your door everyday with no response!! i know you don’t particularly like me, but you’re the only person who doesn’t walk away from me, so could you at least give me a reason that you suddenly started avoiding me?!” 

“...’m not avoiding you.” sanzu doesn’t know what to do right now; he’s never seen you angry like this before. typically, he would care less about the feelings of some random person like you, but for some reason the hurt in your voice makes him unusually unsure of himself. 

you scoffed at his lame excuse, rolling your eyes. 

“look! you’re trying to avoid me right now with elevator! seriously, can you just tell me what i did? i won’t do it again, i swear! just stop avoiding me!” 

“fuck, it’s not you!” sanzu suddenly said, his voice strained. “i’m just busy, okay?! you’re better off being friends with someone else.” 

“but you’re already my friend!! why don’t you want to keep talking to me??” sanzu ignored your words, his gaze staring straight ahead at the doors of the elevator, his stare so intense that you could almost think he was trying to open it telepathically. “hey!! can you just answer the damn question already, haruchiyo?!” 

“why do you need to know so fuckin’ badly?! i just said i’m busy!!” 

“because! i like you!” you yelled, your eyes seeming to get a bit watery. “and i know you don’t like me and that’s fine but i just want to be able to talk to you and see you sometimes, but now you’re always gone and i don’t know when you’re going to come back and it scares me! i just-” 

sanzu cut off your words, promptly stepping in front of you and slipping his hand behind your head, slamming his lips into yours. he’s not even sure himself why he did something stupid like this, especially when the whole reason he was avoiding you was because of his own flaws, but he couldn’t help himself when he heard you being so cute and worried over him, (seriously, how was he supposed to resist something like that?). 

it obviously took you off guard at first, but sanzu made sure you quickly realized what was going on, his mouth desperately pressing against yours. his kiss was rough but passionate, his lips moving quickly against yours as he pulled you closer to him, his other hand sliding around you to rest on the small of your back, (he’s doing it purely out of instinct; he hasn’t really thought about how he had been avoiding you for this very reason). 

a small ding! from the elevator grabs your attention, making you push him off of you as someone comes out from the elevator, glancing at the two of you a bit suspiciously before walking out of the building, leaving both of you in silence. 

“uh…wanna go to the convenience store for snacks…?”

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

❥ it took a little bit for sanzu to open up to you about anything even a little bit, but once he did, you were able to figure him out pretty quickly, especially when he’d finally decided to be truthful about his actual profession, (bro does not work an office 9-5). due to all of this, it’s easy to tell that sanzu has a lot of issues, but it wasn’t something that you weren’t willing to work through with him!

❥ the two of you are the definition of black cat and golden retriever! you are always excited about everything and are taking him to all the cool and trendy places on dates while he is more quiet, keeping close to your side and watching everything with a careful eye, (especially people he defines as creeps, i.e. people who look at you for more than 0.2 seconds). 

❥ date wise, he is usually following your lead. he doesn’t have the slightest clue about what you think it romantic, so it will usually be you planning outings for the two of you. a lot of times he will complain about being tired and not wanting to go out, but don’t worry, he’s completely lying; he just thinks it’s cute when you whine and pull his arm asking him to come out with you. 

❥ despite the fact that he is not the most romantic guy, he does a lot of romantic things without realizing. he enjoys sending you your favorite flowers when you’re at work or staying at home while he’s at work, sending cute little notes along with them, (well, you think they are pretty cute). 

i think you like these ones. -h be ready by seven. wear something you feel good in. -h sorry i didn’t buy milk. there’s frozen waffles in the freezer. -h

❥ sanzu does a lot of those little things for you too; opening doors for you, pulling chairs out for you, taking things out of your hands when you’re carrying a lot, etc. it doesn’t seem like he’s the type to do things like this, but it’s because he isn’t the type to do it. he only does it for you, and he himself doesn’t even know why he does these things, (he’s head over heels in love with you, but in no universe will he ever actually admit that). 

❥ the most protective over you, and a little possessive too. he doesn’t control everything that you do, but he likes to have a clear-cut plan of everything you do on a normal day so that his mind is put at ease, (also so he can known when something is wrong). he won’t tell you this, but he has someone assigned to keeping an eye on your as you go about your day because he’s extremely paranoid that somebody from an opposing gang will try and come after you. he would prefer if he could by your side himself, but it’s the next best option, (he still sends frequent texts and calls you throughout the day to make sure everything is well). 

❥ the possessive part of him comes out more when he thinks people are hitting on you, (they really are just being nice; he’s just a little bit crazy…he loves you though!!). he doesn’t hesitate to slide his long arms all around you, letting you continue talking while he makes a deadly eye contact with the person, his face twisted in mild disgust as if he were looking down at a cockroach, (he’s mastered this expression somehow). he knows that you enjoy talking with people so he won’t keep you from doing so, but in the process he will make sure that everybody knows you’re his. 

❥ sanzu’s not the most affectionate person there is, but he is affectionate when he wants to be. there are times when he’ll come home and not say a word, just wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head in the crook of your neck, mumbling something about having a terrible day. really, he just becomes a big baby when he’s like that, laying his lanky limbs all over you and claiming that he’s ‘recharging’. 

❥ it’s hard to label sanzu as an extrovert/introvert, since it can really depend on what mood he’s in and the situation. he’s more of an introvert in public settings with other people, (he doesn’t know how to interact nicely with people he doesn’t know) but when he’s with a majority of people he knows, he turns into more of an extrovert which matches with your energy quite nicely. 

❥ unintentionally, there comes a time when you accidentally get to meet the rest of his coworkers. it happened when they were dropping him back off at home after a night at the club and you’d had to come get him from the car because of how inebriated he was. 

“woah, you’re (y/n), huh?”  “oh, yes! it’s nice to meet you! you all must work with haru, right? please continue to take good care of him! would you like to come inside for a snack or some water?”  “...dude, what the fuck.”  “how the hell did he bag someone like that?!” 

❥ safe to say, they are all extremely shocked, (they never would have thought that someone like sanzu would be dating someone as sweet and talkative as you). the next day when he gets into work, he’s immediately hounded with all types of questions surrounding you and how the two of you started to date. 

“holy shit, is that why you were acting crazy a few months ago?!”  “i wasn’t acting fuckin’ crazy?!” “sanzu, you’re the craziest person here, and you started acting normal!! that was crazy!!” 

❥ after that, he makes sure that his associates never get to see you again, (“hey, bring your pretty lil thing around sometime!”, “i would rather kill you right now.”).

[archangeldyke-all]

okay so, sevika and reader have been friends for a few years and obviously there’s feelings but they won’t admit it🤭 and reader goes on a date but gets stood up😟 and sevika comes across her crying her eyes out and maybe there’s some feelings coming out??

CUTE cute cute

men and minors dni

good luck on your date

you sigh as you stare at the message from sevika. she's so sweet-- checking in on you because she knows you're nervous.

there's no new messages for you from your date-- no new messages from anybody besides the one from sevika.

you try to relax. it's only been ten minutes, your date will show up eventually. she'll probably be here in a minute, with an explanation for her lateness. you take another sip of water and pick at the roll you've been eating, then play a quick game of solitare on your phone.

you win. you check your phone again. 15 minutes late now, no new messages.

she's late. you text back to sevika. the message is read in an instant, and you feel yourself relax incrementally at the sight of the little typing bubble in the corner of your phone.

relax. she's probably just in traffic. sevika's response comes through. you sigh, wishing that sevika was here with you.

it's not that you guys are stupid. you both know there's a shared attraction between you two. it's just that...

it's just that sevika's your best friend. and you're her best friend. and both of you are so guarded that it's nearly impossible to make any new friends, so you need each other, forever, preferably. and a relationship would just... complicate that. and jeopardize it. right?

you don't know. you're starting to question that decision, on your end. because this is the fifth first date you've been on in a month, and you're getting fucking sick of it. you wish things could be easy, like they are with sev. if she was here, you'd both be too busy laughing and joking to look at the menu. and when you finally did, you'd likely order two dishes that you'll share equally, because you're both indecisive and like variety. and you'd drink through a bottle of wine and end the night with a shared slice of cake, and then crash at sevika's-- cuddled together in her bed while a movie plays in the background.

but it's not sevika you're waiting on-- sevika'd never keep you waiting in the first place. it's a girl you met on tinder, who seemed incredibly interested in you over text, but now that you're meant to meet it seems like she's much less into you.

it's been a half hour now. you're getting a little worked up, horrible thoughts swirling in your mind as humiliation starts to settle in your stomach. the waitress has been shooting pitying looks your way, your date's ice water has melted into just water now.

your phone buzzes, and you scramble to open it. she there yet? sevika asks. you bite your lip.

no. how long do i have to wait before i accept that she stood me up? you reply.

you anxiously watch sevika's typing bubble pop up, then down, then up, then down again. you gulp.

give it ten more minutes. if she doesn't show, block her. sevika replies. you chuckle, taking a deep breath and leaning back in your seat.

okay. ten more minutes. you can do that.

you play another round of solitaire and eat another piece of bread. each time someone walks past your table your head whips up to look at them. it's never the girl from the app, it's just waiters and couples.

a lump is forming in your throat-- this is why you don't fucking date. people are unpredictable and rude, and you can't stop yourself from feeling like a fucking idiot for even trying. you feel... ugly and strange and rejected and undesirable, and the more time that passes, the worse that feeling gets. you feel tears starting to build in your eyes, and you duck your head, pretending to study the menu to hide the fact that you're crying.

"hey, beautiful." you jump, your head snapping up from the table top to look at the woman across the table from you. relief floods your body at the sight of your best friend kicking the chair out and slumping against it. she reaches across the table and wipes your tears away, and you lean against her palm.

"hey, sevika." you sigh. she smiles sadly at you, pinching your cheek before putting her hand back on the table.

"i'm sorry your date's an idiot. she doesn't know what she's missing out on." sevika says as she grabs your hand. you smile.

"you don't have to say--"

"shut up. you wanna eat here or you want me to take you home?" she asks. you sigh and squeeze her fingers.

"let's eat. i'm starving, and i'd feel even worse if i went home and let this outfit go to waste." you say. sevika smirks.

"you do look hot." she says. you giggle.

"you do too." you say, nodding at your friend. she must've gotten dressed up to come rescue you-- her usual weekend sweats traded out for nice dress slacks and a button up-- and it makes your heart skip a beat. "thanks for coming."

"fuck off, i'd do anything for you, you know that." she says, not looking up from her menu. you squeak, then reach up to cover your mouth, and sevika looks up from her menu to study you. "what?" she asks. you blink at her.

"why..." you trail off. sevika raises an eyebrow at you.

"what?"

"forget it. what're you getting?" you ask.

dinner goes like it always does. you guys share your food, split a bottle of wine, laughing and talking the entire time. you can't tell if she's trying to be a little extra caring toward you because you've been stood up, or if she's always like this: feeding you bites from her plate, holding your hand when you're not using it to eat.

you also can't stop thinking about how this feels better than any date you've been on this month. you can't stop thinking about how soft sevika's hair looks, how fucking sweet she is when she smiles all big and toothy, how warm her hand is, and how attractive and tantalizing the tiny flash of cleavage under her unbuttoned top buttons is.

when the night ends, sevika insists on paying. you try your best to pay the bill, but sevika kicks you under the table hard enough to bruise and glares at you when you reach for your wallet. so, you let her handle the check.

she walks you out of the restaurant with her arm slung around your shoulders, and you try to keep yourself from leaning against her chest and inhaling the smell of her cologne.

"did you drive here? i can give you a ride home." she offers. you turn to look at her, studying her under the streetlights. you've been through an emotional roller-coaster tonight, but with sevika by your side, you feel settled. she's beautiful and considerate, and you're tipsy off wine and warm from the night spent with your best friend, so you ask the question before you can second guess yourself.

"why aren't we dating?" you ask. sevika blinks at you, her eyebrows shooting up her head.

"what?"

"i mean. it makes sense, right? i find you attractive, and you find me..."

"beyond gorgeous." sevika fills in, nodding. you laugh.

"and we get along great and... i dunno, sev. i've been on so many dates but none of them feel anywhere near as right as just sitting on the couch with you. and i know we're friends but i don't think... i don't think much would change, do you?" you ask. sevika's still shocked, but there's a tiny smile playing on her lips.

"really?" she asks. you shrug.

"yeah. you've never thought about it?"

"i think about it all the time." she says. "all the time."

"really?"

"i've been tearing my hair out all month. each time you went on a date i'd be at home fucking praying that it didn't work out. i just thought-- i thought you wouldn't want me." she says. you gulp.

"of course i'd want you." you say.

"is this finally happening?" she whispers. you giggle.

"if you want it to." you say. she grins.

then, she's kissing you. her lips are soft and warm, and you feel fireworks in your stomach. you reach up to bury your fingers in her hair, and she wraps her arms around your waist, backing you up until you're against the brick of the restaurant.

you moan against her lips and she growls, sinking her teeth into your lower lip. you gasp.

"f-fuck, sev."

she pulls away with a smirk.

"sorry. been wanting to do that for a while." she says. you smile.

"do it again." you say. she grins.

"i think you're only supposed to kiss once after the first date." you giggle and pinch her side, and she laughs.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby

[navstuffs]

hi!! i really love your writing and i would love if you could feed me with a request (only if you're comfortable with it, ofc) 👉🏼👈🏼 what about a leon x reader where reader is passing through a very tough depressive crisis and is really not fine mentally speaking — and leon just try to help and comfort them through this? 👉🏼👈🏼

anyway, thank you for your fics, they really helped me these days 😭💗

Anchor

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GNPartner!Reader

Summary: It is 1 am when Leon Kennedy knocks on your door. He shouldn't be there and you shouldn't have opened it. 

Warning tags: hurt/comfort, angst, leon almost died, reader is suffering with anxiety due to past events, can be read as platonic or romantic (you choose)

Writer's Notes: hello! first of all, im sorry i took so long to write this request for you. i changed some stuff and i hope you don't mind (reader is still depressed). thank you so much your kind words and i hope this fic serves as comfort for you!! <333 stay safe anon!

for more painful leon's fics, check my masterlist. i have some happy ones too :)

It is 1 am when Leon Kennedy knocks on your door. It is the third time that week only, the fifth of the month. 

It starts when you don’t appear at work after two weeks since his return, and no one knows where you are. HR informs you are sick, which means you are still alive somewhere in the world, just sick. Okay, but sick with what? Sick how? Are you in the hospital? Do you need any help? Leon knows you don’t have family around, like him, and you are pretty much alone - like him. 

So, as any regular worried friend would, he calls and texts. He wants to hear your voice and guarantee that you don’t need help and have everything you need. That you truly are okay. No answer. HR has guaranteed him you are not dead, but what if you—no, he shouldn’t think about that.

The next step is going to your house. He knows where your address is and wouldn’t be a complete weird appearing there in the afternoon. No answer. Leon won’t be a creep as far as looking at your windows, at least not yet. He won’t go as far as busting your door and checking how you are feeling because he needs to confirm you are okay. You might just not be home.

On the second visit, Leon got awfully close to kicking your door. Before he could do that or even knock, he saw a shadow pass over the window. Though Leon told himself he wouldn’t, he looked inside just in time to see you disappear to the second floor. So, at least you are really alive, Leon’s body filling with relief. It could have been a bad case of flu, and you don’t want to contaminate anyone.

One more week passes, and he visits your house two more times. Those times you didn’t even bother to hide yourself, lazily lying down on the sofa in a way Leon couldn’t see your face (oh yeah, now he is definitely peeking out your windows). So you are genuinely ignoring him or truly sick with some contagious disease. Maybe Covid?

The fifth time he knocks on your door, it is 1 am and Leon is deeply not only worried but bitter. He was sitting in his apartment alone, wondering what you had and why you didn’t open the door for him. You two are colleagues, and Leon would dare to go as far as to call you his friend if anyone asked. How many times have you brought him soup while he was sick? Brought him meds, kept him company? Checked on him until he was finally all better?

It would be only fair if he did the same.

Leon grabs his keys without even thinking: You will open the door for him tonight. And if you don’t, well, he will kick it open. To hell with the civil approach.

-x-

All the courage slips away from his body when he notices the kitchen’s light on. Leon can’t see anything inside since you decided to make his life harder and close the curtains. So, instead of kicking that door until it’s down, Leon goes back to the gentle approach (like the idiot he is): he knocks.

The door opens not even ten seconds later, and Leon blinks, surprised. You are there. You, not a trick of his eyes: a fluffy and long blanket covering your body, only your face peeking with a familiar expression Leon recognizes immediately - he had seen in his own mirror before.

“You won. What the fuck do you want?” Those are the first words to him in weeks.

“May I come in?” 

You ponder for a moment, your eyes red, and Leon wonders when you last slept. You walk away, leaving the door open, and Leon follows inside, locking the door behind him. 

Your house isn’t in the best state. He had been here before and thought you weren’t the most organized person (“I can find myself in my own mess, Leon.”). The mess had grown too much from normal. There were tons of take-out boxes on the kitchen counter, pizza boxes, and fast food bags. At least you had been eating—not the best food ever, but feeding. He could work with that.

And the bottles—oh, those Leon would identify anywhere. You weren’t a heavy drinker, and you mentioned plenty of times you didn’t know how he liked whiskey. Now, there were countless empty bottles of whiskey, beer, and vodka, so much so that the place looked like a bunch of frat boys had a party just the night before and didn’t bother to clean.

Leon follows you to the living room as you fall onto the couch. An old Simpsons episode plays on the TV screen. There are still some bags and bottles on the floor, but fewer. Your eyes focus on the TV, not really watching or paying attention to him.  Leon stands there, keeping a safe distance from you and gathering what to say. 

“I came to check on you.” Leon starts, his eyes glued on you. “You haven’t called or texted me back. The HR said-”

“I am sick. I wanted to be left alone.”

“I know, but-”

“I could complain about this to HR, you know? It could be considered an invasion of privacy, and you could lose your job. “

“I was worried about you.”

“You saw me in the window that day, didn’t you? I’m alive and breathing. Now get out.”

You hide your face in the sofa, conversation clearly done on your side. It feels like an impossible battle to win. Leon then tries again, “Do you need anything?” 

“No. Get out.”

He sighs, turning on his heels. Leon wants to say you can call if you need him, any time, but Leon knows you wouldn't. This is an impossible battle to win, Leon realizes as he starts to leave. But then he freezes, a memory piercing his thoughts. Leon comes back to the living room, your face still hidden.

“No.”

“What?” 

“I am not leaving. Not before I know what is wrong.”

“I am sick.”

“Yes. So I have heard.” 

You don’t turn to look at him, and that’s fine. If you want to be stubborn, so could he. Leon can wait. The episode on the TV finally ends, and as the familiar opening plays in the background, you slowly turn in his direction, one eye appearing first, then the other, as if expecting Leon would be gone by now. Unlucky for you, Leon S. Kennedy didn’t give up that easily, especially for his friends.

“I don’t know what you are feeling, but I know that face.” His voice manages to sound neutral.

Of course, he does. Of course, your partner, the legendary D.S.O veteran, would know. You, just a newbie, would have no idea what he went through, but Leon didn’t seem the kind of person to crumble for anything. Leon would probably be fine if you were the one to get shot, not him. He wouldn’t have panicked, he wouldn’t have started crying, screaming for someone to help them, losing themselves in a sea of despair and pain.

“Hey…”

Blood. So much blood in your hands. You are useless, you can’t help him as Leon’s face loses color-

“Hey.”

He deserved someone better—someone much better as a partner—not you, a weak agent who thought you were strong enough to stand by his side. Oh, how wrong you were.

Leon calls your name, more urgent this time, and your line of sight is filled with the face of the man you considered your friend right at your path—concerned blue eyes, his hair tickling against your face. His forehead is in concentration, the faint ghost of a beard, as he speaks soothingly. “Hey, look at me. You are safe. Deep breaths, come on.” 

The visions mix as you blink: Leon losing blood in your arms, unconscious, back to being safe, his worried eyes staring at you.

Your rapid breathing noise fills the room, your heart wanting to burst as the pain spreads over your body, the pain worse than being stabbed or punched. You keep your eyes on Leon - he is fine, he is safe, he is well, he is worried sick about you- as he continues to nod and tell you to breathe.

It takes a while, Leon’s hands on your shoulder as you finally calm down, the tears rolling freely from your eyes.

“I am sorry.” You manage to whisper. “I am so sorry.”

“You are safe. We both are safe.” Leon declares, and you take that in. Right now, yes. But what about tomorrow? What about-? “Hey, eyes open at me.” When had you even closed them? “Come on. There is no one else, just you and me. And we are safe.” 

You nod, not arguing back. Finally, you sit down, and Leon takes two steps back. “Water?” 

“I think there are some in the fridge,” you reply, cleaning your tears. Leon leaves and quickly comes back with two bottles, unbottling them for you. You shake your head, but Leon insists, and you drink in small sips, the cold liquid refreshing your dry throat. When was the last time you had any water? Or took a shower? Or slept?

Finally, you give him space on the couch to sit. Leon doesn’t, and you point your head to your side, and he sits, keeping a safe distance from you. You two say nothing for a while, simply looking at the TV to watch Bart Simpsons on his shenanigans. 

“I am sorry.”

“Would you stop that?” Leon sighs back, frustrated. 

“No. I am sorry.”

“Fine. I forgive you. Are we good now?”

“No.” 

“I knew it wouldn’t be,” Leon replies with a sad smile.

“You could have died, and I didn’t-” Leon says your name, but you continue “-let me finish. I didn’t help. I didn’t move. I did nothing.” 

Leon didn’t want to talk about this, knowing it was inevitable. The day he took a bullet for you: not one, but two. Leon noticed before you, his reflexes quicker than yours. It was his responsibility anyway.

You only watched, shocked, as the bullet pierced his leg, then his chest. You didn’t move or flinch; you just froze, your hands closing and opening nervously as Leon fell right in front of you. You had been fortunate that the backup team had arrived on the other second, finding in the middle of the swarm of bullets a screaming you protecting Leon with his own body, all training thrown out of the window. You two should have been dead. Life had given you and him another chance, since no other vital organ or vein of Leon had been damaged.

You don’t remember much after except asking for your resignation that same day and getting a “No” as an answer. So you decided to get on sick leave until some higher-up got tired and fired you.

“I did nothing.” Leon tries to interrupt you again, but you continue, “You could have died, and I did nothing.”

“It wouldn’t be your fault.” 

“What? Of course, it would!” 

“No, it would not.” 

“Can you fucking stop trying to make me feel better?” Your tone is so angry, so vile, that Leon almost flinches. 

Death is always in the back of his mind. Every time he is out there, he could die. He is expandable; they all are, but he couldn’t just let you die. You a much smarter version of what he once was during Raccoon City. The same bravery, but not foolish as his. Much sharper. Leon knew why he got paired up with you in the first place, the irony not completely lost in him. 

It would have been fine if Leon died that day he protected you, but not okay if you did. Not on his watch. Not now, not ever.

“I can’t help it,” Leon replies, a sad smile on his lips. “I can’t help it, especially when a friend needs my help.” 

A friend? 

Do not grow attachments. Wasn’t that your first lesson? It had been hard to be paired up with a man who hated it at first, then to learn how to laugh at his silly jokes or admire how far Leon would go for anyone. For anyone, except himself, stupid brave man.

You open your mouth and close it, simply lying against the sofa with your eyes closed. 

“So, let me help you?” His voice is warm and inviting. 

It would be best if you said no. You should kick this man out of your living room, out of your life, and never go back to that stupid job fighting an endless battle that would end with you dead or someone you cherished dead. You don’t know how Leon does it, but as you open your eyes, his blue eyes look straight at you awaits in hope. Waiting to comfort you, support you to the best of his abilities, and be your friend.

The pain is still there, vivid in your soul and mind, but there is hope. Right there, in that tiny spot you gave Leon S. Kennedy. That’s why you shouldn’t have opened that damn door, you realize, but it is too late. You limit on nodding.

[outsideratheart]

Can I Ask You a Question? (Alexia Putellas x reader)

A/N: Chapter 3 in the Legacy Series

The sun shon down on the beach in Ibiza. The heat along with the smell of the sea was enough to make you forget about the past and the future. For the past 4 days you had been in the present and it made you feel more at ease than you had done in months. A couple of nights ago you had bumped into some of the Barcelona girls and in Jill’s slightly drunken state she had invited them over to your house for food and drinks. This is something you didn’t fight, in fact you encouraged it stating that you will set up the entire night. All the Spaniards had to do was show up.

Alexia had reached out after the World Cup final and the two of you had been talking ever since and much to your surprise football didn’t get brought up once. It did however bring up feelings that you feared would come but you couldn’t blame yourself the woman was beautiful and getting to know her on a personal level only added to your crush.

“Y/N!” You heard Daan shout from up at the house.

The villa you were staying in was beautiful and owned by a family friend. It had everything you needed: several bedrooms, a huge pool and a private beach. You really had no reason to leave but there’s no way you can come to Ibiza and not venture out to experience the electric night life.

“Coming!” You unbury your feet from the sand before making your way to the house so you can get ready.

Choosing an outfit proved to be a difficult choice. Alexia, in her nervous state, had messaged you earlier in the day asking what she should wear. A couple of hours later she sent you a photo of a dress. It was simple yet you know it would take your breath away once you saw her in it.

As you looked through your wardrobe, which was full, you felt like you had nothing to wear.

You stormed into Jill’s room in frustration. The blonde only laughed at your child like behaviour before reaching into a shopping bag. She help up an olive green silk dress with a low cut front which was borderline on being too low.

“I saw this when we went into town earlier. I thought it would suit you and it will be sure to drive any woman wild, especially Catalonians who you may or may not have a crush on”

“Can you blame me? Alexia is hot, like really hot”

Jill may not have mentioned her name but she saw the way you watched the Spanish woman dance when you bumped in them the other night. She would say you had heart eyes but they were full of lust.

“I thought you weren’t the type to have flings”

“I’m still not”

“Not even a little holiday romance”

“That’s not who I am and you both know that it’s not like I can sleep with her here and not face the consequences when the season starts”

“Wait! What!”

You had been so careful to keep you mouth shut and having told Jill out of all people might come back around to bite you in the arse.

“I mean it could do, if I decide to go there”

Silence filled the room for all of five seconds before Jill changed to the subject and showed you what she planned on wearing for the night. You could only hoped she believed your cover and if not you prayed to the higher powers that she keeps her mouth shut but you knew it was a gamble because Jill had no filter when she drank.

Alexia took one last look in the mirror as she gave herself the once over for the fifth time in last ten minutes. Whenever she came to Ibiza in the past her main aim was to relax and recover in anticipation for the upcoming season but tonight she was willing to let go and have fun. She wasn’t sure what the future held and knowing that this might be the last night she saw you for some time she was planning on making the most of it.

“Ale! do you want a dri—“ Leila comes barging in the room, stopping in her place as she sees her friend standing in the corner, a little uncertain of herself.

“Is it too much?” Alexia felt a little insecure, it wasn’t everyday that she dressed like this.

“Not at all” Leila walked towards her “You look beautiful Alexia. I’m not saying you are but if you are dressing to impress a certain someone then I think this will do the trick”

“You think?”

Leila didn’t tease her captain for admitting she wanted to impress you although she didn’t mentioned you by name. This was uncharted territory for her best friend.

“I know so. Speaking of the Dutch, well not really but still. Lieke has just text me saying that they will be ready in half an hour and for us to get there in about an hour so that the chef can prepare the food”

“Chef?”

“It seems Y/N is pulling out all of the stops. It’s almost like she wants to impress us” Leila raised her eyes playfully and Alexia knew exactly what she was insinuating.

“Leila please do not mention it tonight” it was a warning and Leila showed her understanding by pretending to zip her lips.

You were speaking to the chef when you heard the front door open. You couldn’t know for sure who it was but the butterflies that had suddenly formed in your stomach was a good indication. When you entered the outdoor area which had the makeshift bar, the sight in front of you filled you with happiness. The Dutch and the Spanish together, acting like they were old friends reacquainted.

“Bienvenidos” you join the now double in sized group of football players although only one player has acknowledged your presence.

“Gracias para la invitación” Alexia hands you a drink. She senses your hesitation due to not knowing what was in the glass “I saw Lieke make it”

You were in the clear. The drinks Lieke made are safe, you can have a few and still stand. You other team mates on the other hand well they preferred alcohol percentage over taste.

Not before long you were called over for dinner. The long table held just enough seats to fit everyone and unlike the other nights spent at it, you choose against sitting at the head of the table. Whether it was on purpose or not, one side held the Dutch and the other sat the Spanish with Alexia sitting directly opposite you.

At first you thought the language barrier might be an issue but you soon find that everyone has agreed to speak English, as broken as it may be. The first course is served and the whole table settles into a comfortable silence as they savour the meal prepared for them.

“What?” You whisper as you see Alexia looking at you whilst she takes a sip of her wine.

“Nada, I mean nothing” Alexia corrects herself but the smirk that tugs at her lips lets you know her mind is far from being empty.

That’s how the next half an hour or so went. You and Alexia stole glances when you thought the other wasn’t watching only to get caught in the end. It filled your head with thoughts that you had tried to bury deep over the past couple of days or if you’re being honest ever since you met her at the seaside restaurant in Barcelona. Now whilst her execution was poor that night, she did show just how much she want you to play for Barcelona and her clear passion for the team reminded you of that same passion your father had.

You were in the middle of a stare off, the only words spoken with your eyes. Oh her eyes, the hazel orbs which looked perfect as the sun hit them at the right angle.

“Señorita Cruyff” a member of the chef’s team politely taps you on your shoulder.

You couldn’t know for sure how long she had been standing there or if she had been trying to get your attention but the look of the other women at the table told that this wasn’t the time time she had called your name.

“¿Quieres más vino con el plato principal?”

All eyes are on you with your Dutch team mates not knowing what the woman was saying and the Spanish waiting to jump in.

“Sí. Por favor traiga lo que recomienda”

And with that the woman leaves you be but when you turn your attention back to the table you are met with eyes that hold something you don’t recognise. They had never heard you speaking Spanish before and even though you had a Dutch accent when you spoke Dutch and English, the Spanish one you had when speaking Spanish was almost native.

“I forgot she’s Spanish” Patri explains your fluent Spanish to her friends.

Whilst Patri was correct you always saw yourself as Dutch because that is where your family is from. The only time your place of birth got brought up was when you were chosen to play at a senior national level. You had only ever played for The Netherlands youth team but when the time came to chose a senior team Spain came calling but it never got passed a phone call. Your father played for the Netherlands and so would you, there was nothing more to discuss.

“She’s Dutch” Jill corrects her “it’s bad enough you get to play with her all season, you don’t get to have her for international break too” she says the last part under her breath but you still can’t believe she said it out loud at all.

“Jill!” You scold her hoping that only you and her had heard what she said.

“Sorry”

Just like the rest of the night you turn you attention back to the person sitting opposite you only to find her watching but hopefully not listening to the discussion taking place between you and your best friend.

In a split second you decide the best approach is to imagine that she was none the wiser.

“You seem to be having a good time in Ibiza” with anyone else this could be classed as small talk yet with Alexia it didn’t feel this way.

“I always do. My favourite day so far have been the boat trip we went on yesterday”

“Those are my favourite days too”

“Yeah Y/N loved the photos you posted it. She was a big fan of your bikini” Daan added from her place down the table.

A deep blush flushed your cheeks as you get all but outed by the brunette. Your trail of thought shifts as you remember the photos in question, there were five in total but it was the third one that caught your eye the post. Alexia posed against the railings of the boat wearing nothing but a bikini. The way she posed showed off her toned body enough to fill your mind with less than innocent thoughts.

“You did?” Alexia, for the first time since meeting you, felt like she had the upper hand.

“The bikini—it erm—verdomme“ you finished what was left in your wine glass “You looked hot, beautiful in fact”

You could tell the entire table was enjoying seeing you flustered but you wasn’t a fan. Not when the woman who played a huge part, yet did very little, was sitting in front of you. Wanting to remove yourself from the centre of attention you stand to leave but Alexia reaches over the table and grabs your hand.

“You can’t leave now. The main course is coming” Alexia used her other hand to point behind you where low and behold there was in fact servers bringing out the next course of food.

Vulnerable. That is how you felt as you ate your food. Alexia was now aware how you saw her, you only found a little bit of peace knowing that she didn’t know just how beautiful you found her.

Once all courses had been served and dated you politely excused yourself making sure to take your glass of wine with you. You wasn’t exactly sure where you were going but you knew that the glass of red would be needed.

Alexia watched as you walked away. At first she thought you would go back into the house for whatever reason but instead she sees you walk towards the edge of the grounds the house sat on, unaware of what it lead to.

She tried to include herself in her friends, and yours, conversation but it was to no use. Her focus remained on you even though you were no longer in site. There was a lot she wanted to say to you, even more so with what she had learnt in the last hour or two. When the barcelona captain sees one of the bartenders bringing out the last couple of bottles of wine she is quick to swipe one and go in search of you.

There was something about water that made you happy. Maybe it had something to do with memories of walking along the canals of Amsterdam with the your father when you would take the family dog for a walk or how the entire Cruyff family could spend the whole day at the beach in Barcelona yet still want to go back and do it all over again the next day. As you got older you came to the conclusion that it’s because the ocean makes you feel small and it puts your life into perspective. You would spend hours looking out at the never ending water whilst letting you mind run wild.

“Care for a top up?” The voice makes you jump but your heart beat soon returns to its natural pace when you see the who had spoken.

“Please” you hold your empty glass up.

Alexia uses the action as a way to sit next to you without it being a big deal. The two of you slip into a silence with the only audible sound coming from your friends back at the house.

“So I’m beautiful huh?”

You let out a groan at Alexia’s teasing because that’s what is was and you both knew it.

“Can we please talk about something else?”

“We could talk about what Jill said?”

“I take it back. I’d rather talk about your beauty”

Funnily enough Alexia didn’t have much to say at your compliment. When you said she was beautiful at the table she thought it was just something you said to please the table but now it was just the two of you, surely you meant it.

“Can I ask you a question?”

You hesitantly nod.

“Have you talked to anyone about it?” She needed need to be specific, you knew what she meant by it.

It was a good question. Apart from Aitana, you hadn’t really talked to anyone about your move. You knew that you could trust Lieke but she played for Barcelona and as your best friend you thought she would be biased but at the same time no one knew more about your struggles. You didn’t want to talk about moving to Barcelona with your family but the reasons why you didn’t want to would only bring up emotions that you had all tried desperately to bury as unhealthy as that may be.

“I’ll take that as a no”

You took a large sip of your wine before you try to explain the thoughts that have been keeping you up at night.

“It’s hard”

“When you came to the match it —“

“Was the first time back since it happened, yes” by cutting her off you stopped her from saying the words.

You could already feel your breathing building at a rapid pace and like any other time this happened you hands began shaking in suit although you had learned to control that or hide it, at least that’s what you thought. When you feel Alexia take your hand in hers you realise that it must have been obvious.

“The club meant a lot to him and I don’t think I could handle—“

“The pressure” now it was Alexia who attempted to finish your sentence only she got it all wrong.

“His presence”

“I lost my dad a few years ago” Alexia knew that she was asking you to open up to her, someone who was closer to a stranger than she was a friend. Hopefully if she shared a little bit of her pain that you would feel comfortable to do the same “I know I don’t wear his name on the back of my shirt but it is his family name that gets said when I win an award. I understand what it’s like to live your life hoping to do someone proud when they can never tell you themselves”

“He always wanted me to play for Barcelona. He said that is where I will play the football that I am destined to play”

“I think he’s right” Ever since the meeting where she learned you would be leaving Ajax she couldn’t help but think about what the two of you could achieve together. The team was a perfect fit for you but she couldn’t make you move there. Right now she would settle for being your sounding board.

“Of course you do. If he is right and I do what he wanted then I come to Barcelona. That has been you aim from day one” the look you give Alexia lets her know you are playing and trying to get a rise of our her yet she cannot help but bite.

“I was out of line but I can’t sit here and say that I don’t want to come play for us because that would be a lie. This is your decision and you have to do what is best for you. I know that whenever I go back to Mollet my heart is heavier and I can’t imagine facing that everyday but I know what it’s like. The thing about Barcelona is we aren’t only a team, we are a family. You will never be alone on your bad days, I know this because I never am”

“Alexia” you could feel your nose begin to tingle as your emotions rose to the surface. In this moment she wasn’t appealing to the player, she was talking to Y/N the girl whose heart broke in 2016 and had been in pieces ever since.

“I have an idea” Alexia eyes light up “I leave Ibiza the day after tomorrow and I have a couple of days before we need to prepare for the WICC cup in Portland, I’m guessing you have a few days left off too. Come to Barcelona, don’t tell anyone but come. I’ll show you around and give you a taste of what life could be like off the pitch because that is when you will really see the city”

The Catalonian waited in anticipation, worrying that she may have crossed a line but she couldn’t help herself. The thought of you moving to Barcelona felt more like a reality and to say she was excited would be an understatement.

“Can I take a rain check?”

You physically saw her face drop in disappointment.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I got ahead of myself, I shouldn’t have said anything. I think it’s best I leave” Alexia hastily stood up. She was embarrassed and didn’t want to stick around to face a rejection.

“Alexia” you stood up just as quick as she did and grabbed her hand, stopping her from walking any further “I have to go home to Amsterdam tomorrow. I have some meetings that I cannot reschedule but I would love to see Barcelona though your eyes whether I move or not”

Not only had you given Alexia something to look forward to. You had told her that you wanted to see her again regardless of your decision and that was enough to make the risk of opening up to you worth it.

The two of you finish the bottle of wine whilst admiring the view before rejoining your friends who in your absence had managed to drink the left over wine and move onto the cocktails and shots. Yet another moment where you shown a scenario that could become a regular occurrence.

You left Ibiza the following morning lighter than you had felt in months because the impending question of Barcelona or Arsenal was no longer looming over you.

A decision had been made.

[boyfhee]

CLOSEST FRIEND AND MORE ⋆ pjs

prompt · “i don’t think i’ve ever felt the way i do with you with anyone else.” “what does that mean?” “what do you think it means?” · requested

g · fluff warnings · light profanities, mentions of injury wc · 0.8k

note · writer's block is real and it sucks

“and then, that bastard, that cheating lying bastard, blatantly lied in front of everyone and said that, i pushed him during the game. seriously— can you believe that?” a scoff falls off your lips and you recall the moments from your PE class this morning, which more or less morphed into a fight between you and one of your classmates who claims to have been pushed by you in a game of dodgeball and sprained his ankle when in reality, he practically launched himself towards you and all you did was step aside to save yourself. 

and jay, he’s hearing this story for the fifth time today, in different narratives from different people, with more colourful words for the said boy being served by them on a silver platter.

“no, i really can’t believe that,” he responds sarcastically, eyes focused on the evening sky and then the road as a soft smile rested upon his lips, throughout the walk from school to your place. 

“jay,” you slow down, the extra emphasis on his name to get a serious reply, making him turn to look at you. you stare at him for a second while he mirrors the same blank look at you, before a faint sigh slips off your lips. “you’ve been really quiet today, you know?” 

and not just today but for the past four to five days. jay is a quiet person, actually, but not quiet quiet, not the quiet where you hear six words maximum from him in twenty-four hours. you wouldn’t say you and jay are super close or the bestest of friends and yet still, you can hear him whisper from behind you during classes, making you laugh occasionally, sneaking notes from under the desks, everything that makes maths more bearable for you and everything whose absence for days now has you concerned. 

“is that so?”

“mhm, i almost forgot your voice,” which is an exaggeration on your part, but you’re pretty sure it would have come true had the silence game continued for a few more days. “are you okay, though? is there anything you’re worried about, anything you’d like to tell me?” 

a brief pause follows, a moment of silence yet again, filled with the shuffling of your footsteps on the pavement as he swings your hand back and forth, holding it a little tighter. “well, there is something i’m worried about but i can figure it out myself,” 

you step in front of him, getting a better look at his face and his eyes meet yours. “are you sure?”

“i am,” 

you see your house now, the first one as soon as you'd take the next left. walks with jay are less frequent. he’s either busy with his other friends or after school stuff that your homeroom teacher assigns him, much to his disappointment. walks with him are less often but are always fun, hands intertwined as you both take all the time in the world to cover the ten minutes walking distance from school to your house, since he insists on walking you home everyday. 

walks with him are less common, this might be your ninth or tenth time, but they’re already something you look forward to ever since you wake up. you realise that walks with jay might be the only chance to get to know him better, and thus, you take the opportunity. 

“i know you don’t like stressing people out with your own problems and you rarely talk about them, but i want you to know that you can rely on me,” the two of you finally stop in front of your house and you stand in front of him, taking both of his hands into yours. “you’re one of my closest friends, i’m here if you never need someone to listen to you,” 

he has known you for one month, barely, and you’re asking him to spill his worries to you as if they’re your own, but how does he tell you that you’re the reason he’s losing track of day, noon and night, wondering if there’s even a little chance that you feel the same way as he feels towards you? 

“i don’t think i’ve ever felt the way i do with you, with anyone else,” but the words escape his mouth, leaving him surprised too, as if he has lost control over his thoughts, letting his heart take over his mind, allowing it to make all the decisions. 

you feel your heart skipping beats and pacing relentlessly, quite sure going to pop out of your chest any second. “what does that mean?” 

how does he tell you that you’re the one making him worried with all these feelings that he has for you? 

“what do you think it means?” and the smile on your face morphs into hesitation, heat rising up your cheeks as he takes a step towards you. another string of silence follows as you try to come up with words, but before you could even sort out your thoughts, jay beats you to it. “see you tomorrow,” 

and that’s all he says before walking away, because you consider him one of your closest friends, so how does he tell you that he’s inexplicably in love with you, and that he wants to be something more? 

[pjoxreader]

PJO Boys Reacting to a Period Cramp Simulator (200 Follower Special)

((Thank you all for 200 followers! This is just something a little silly I wrote up but I hope you like it! 🥹🎉))

Leo Valdez

-Leo is fireproof. Not zap proof. He tapped out at level 5 as he started to curl up in on himself as he both cried out in pain and laughter between the breaks, as honestly he was surprised it hurt this badly. Was never ever going to bother Piper during that time of month again, his life would be on the line. Made it to level 5 before he tapped out.

Frank Zhang 

-Someone save this man. Doubles over in pain curls up into a ball as he lets out a low groan of pain until someone manages to grab the remote from Frank’s rolling around. Ends up dealing with it the longest sense he was writhing and dragging the remote with him. He managed to get to level 9 only because he accidentally rolled over it and turned it up.

Percy Jackson

-Tries to keep a straight face, but once it gets to the higher levels his lip starts twitching. Annabeth gets annoyed and puts it to ten making him fall off his chair with a bunch of apologies begging them to turn it off. Got to level 10 but pissed Annabeth off.

Jason Grace

-Goes in expecting it to not be that bad, taps out the second it gets past the fifth level. Is partly convinced that that’s a torture method to get people to talk. Made it to level 6 before he forfeited deciding it really wasn’t worth it.

Nico Di Angelo

-Manages to keep a straight face but his leg gives him away by bouncing, much to his embarrassment. He ends up shadow traveling a lot for different sanitary products. Because honestly it’s worth losing the energy if he ends up on the girls good side when they’re in that much pain. Made it to level 9.

Will Solace

-His medical books and knowledge could not prepare him for this. Managed to at least make it to 7 before he couldn’t take it anymore, honestly felt like throwing up and almost did. Thankfully he didn’t at the very least but he was definitely giving the ladies the stronger pain medication for cramps from now on. Screw whatever the book said. Level 7 before giving up.

Grover Underwood

-Was the most nervous to do this and went last, he only got to four before he gave up but no one had the heart to tell him he got last. Since he went through with it and was nothing but kind to the girls during that time of month even before this, the girls unanimously agreed to say he made it to level 6. Much to Leo’s annoyance who complained about it being rigged for months. Made it to level 4 but pity and love got him to level 6.

~Masterlist & Rules~

Like my writing? Please consider sending me a Ko-fi! ☕

[dumpywrites]

Tears and Poetries - Namjoon / RM

Prompt: “You look familiar, like that one guy from BTS.”

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Fluff, comfort, idol Namjoon, non fan reader 

Pairing: Namjoon x reader

a/n: Come back to me got me feeling all inspired soooo yeah :)

It was late. Frankly you did not bother to check the time but you knew it was at least way past twelve. You just needed some air. Late night polluted air might not be the right option, but it was the best you could have at the moment. Getting out was the only coping response your mind could think off. Getting out from where exactly you could not be sure. 

Work life had been a real shit-show. You were on your fifth revision for your company project and your manager still would not accept your draft. While life? Life had been pretty exhausting. Recently your mother had been pestering you about wanting you to achieve more, comparing you to her friends’ sons and daughters, while also underestimating your own accomplishment. 

And not even two weeks ago, a guy who you were seeing just admitted that he apparently had a girlfriend. He really just dropped that info to you like a bomb, as if you did not spend time with each other the past six months. True, you never really put a label on whatever you both had, but in your head you were single and so was he. Until he told you that he got a girlfriend and had dated her for a month already. 

The wound still felt fresh especially with all the external problems added to the equation. Bearing the feeling of unwanted, unimportant, and never enough at once, was hard. Even labeling it as only hard sounded like an understatement. 

So you ran. Theoretically speaking you did not run away, you just took off from your apartment randomly to wherever your feet and your worn off sneakers took you. And they took you to a random spot near a river. 

You sat down on the dirty grassy ground, not minding how your shorts could get dirty from it.  Just sitting down and looking at the night sky, as if the cold breeze would calm you and do anything besides giving you a possibility of catching cold. 

Five, fifteen, maybe it was around half an hour you had been sitting there with empty thoughts, just letting the cold air hit your skin, when you suddenly heard a sound of a bicycle stopping and footsteps approaching. 

“Hello? Are you alright there?”

The deep voice started you and made you look back in an instant. There was a tall and quite big built guy standing with his bicycle. He had a buzzcut from the very faint image you could see due to the low light. 

Although skeptic, you decided to answer. “Yeah, don’t worry.”

“You sure?”

You realized how shaky and stuffy your voice sounded. It probably was not a very convincing “don’t worry”. And when you did not voice another reply, the person parked their vehicle and slowly walked towards your direction. 

“Hey! Stranger danger!” You said, backing off from where you were seating. 

The guy stopped in his tracks but did not walked away. “Do you mind if I join your pondering session? Who knows two great minds might think alike.” 

You stayed still in your position, eyes searching for his in the very confusing lack of light. You could barely make out of what he looked like. 

“I’m not a creep, I swear!” He threw his hands in the air. “There’s a police station nearby if you wanna shout as loud as you can, they could hear you from here.” 

He took your silence as a green light and stepped closer until he reached a spot on your left. He cleared his throat and sat down next to you. 

There you could eventually fully saw his face. The first thing you noticed was the nicely shaped nose, and his plump lips, then his dimples which showed when he politely smiled at you. 

The first ten minutes was spent in complete silence. You did not expect the man to whip out a notepad and pencil and just started writing. A story? Poem? Or song? You tried your best not to sneak a look. He was even humming at some point when he wrote, and it was strangely enough, soothing. 

“What are you writing?” You finally asked, the suspense was killing you. 

“Thought you’d never ask.” He replied with excitement. “I’m writing a poem. Though I’m starting to think it’d sound better as a song.”

“You’re a singer or something?”

The man looked at you in disbelief for a good second before chuckling. “Sorta.”

“Am I suppose to know you?” You eyed him back with the same questioning look. 

“Dunno.” He shrugged. “Maybe it’s a good thing that you don’t know for today.”

You looked at the guy suspiciously, which earned a laugh from him. “The more I think about it, I think I’ve seen your face somewhere…”

“Oh yeah?” He said, a light tone of nervousness was visible in his voice. 

“You look familiar, like that one guy from BTS.”

He almost choked on nothing. “I’m sorry, what?!”

“Yeah, that one dude from BTS.” You repeated. “Although I don’t think any one from them has a buzzcut… Idols always seem to have either colorful hair or beautiful long locks.” 

“Really…” The man voiced out, sounding unsure. 

“Are you perhaps an indie artist? K-hiphop? Don’t tell me you are a DPR member that I somehow don’t know about or something…”

“Okay, enough about that it’s not important.” He dismissed. “You wanna take a look of what I’ve written?”

“Uh, sure…”

You leaned a bit closer to him and peeked over his notes. He took his notepad nearing it to your side so you could read better. Despite the low source of illumination, you could read the delicately written words. It was deep and meaningful. Whatever he wrote on that paper seemed a little too real to just be a song, it almost felt like it came from true experience. 

“You sound like you went through hell to get to where you are right now.” 

You commented, you were not aware of how reading through his words affected you until you could practically hear your heartbeat. You clutched at your chest, trying to calm it down. 

“I’m not only talking about the sufferings.” He pointed out. “I also mentioned about the journeys in between.”

His expression brightened as he explained further. You found it really attractive for some reason. 

“The feeling of loss, left out, were there alongside the feeling of excitement, growth, and wanting to change for the better.” He grinned. “And I think life needs that small bits of flavor to complete us as human beings… Wouldn’t have loved myself so much without all my struggles and flaws.”

You gazed at the guy in front of you in awe. “Guess you’re right.” You finally broke into a smile. “That was beautiful though, almost got me tearing up.”

“Thank you.” He grinned, showing his dimples. “What about you though? What’s on your mind?”

“It’s kinda lame…” You nervously laughed. 

“I’m listening.” He scooted closer, making your knees touched. 

“There are a whole list of messed up things happening in my life right now, but I guess I could name one or two…” 

You took a deep breath and the guy in front of you patiently waited for you to speak. 

“Basically my mom’s been yelling at me saying stuff about how unsuccessful I am for my nine to five job, while getting bullied by my manager at work, and not to mention, how I just got dumped by a guy who I was seeing for six months.”

“That’s fucked up…” He looked at you with wide eyes. 

“You tell me.” You replied sassily. “I mean I guess for the most part it wasn’t really about the problem itself. I’m aware of how perfectionist my manager could be and multiple revision is expected. My mom never really feels content with anything, so that’s also expected. And that fucking guy leaving me? It was probably for the better…”

“Hey.” He grabbed your shoulder suddenly, catching you in a surprise. “Don’t downplay your feelings like that. You’re allowed to feel sad when other people treats you like utter shit. It’s valid.” 

There was something about his words that triggered an emotion within you. Unknowingly, a tear escaped your eyes, followed by more next. 

You leaned backwards to free from his grip, only for him to lose it but proceeded to take off his knitted sweater, revealing a black oversized t-shirt underneath. He took it off with one hand before shoving it through your head so you could wear it. 

“It’s chilly. You might catch a cold.” 

Hesitantly, you rolled the sweater through your body. You felt the neckline stained with tears and wondered if it was his polite way of helping you wipe your tears. You thanked him and he told you to continue. 

“I don’t know what else to say, I don’t want to trauma dump on you.” 

“How are you feeling though?” He asked, eyes gently looking at you. 

“I just… I felt unwanted? Unimportant and undesirable? It happened all at once and it got me connecting strings. The root cause of my problem felt like it came from me as a person and I felt sick…”

He gazed at you and quietly nod, allowing you to continue. 

“I came here because it was loud and deafening in here,” You tapped your head with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. “And I’m glad I did. Not only did I manage to tone it down a couple notches, I also get an exclusive song preview from a top star!” 

Both of you laughed in unison. You were the first to break the eye contact due to the sudden invasion of butterflies in your stomach. It might be dark and late at night, but your eyes could not lie about the beauty of the stranger in front of you. 

The silence was soon broken by a buzzing notification from his phone. It was on silent mode, but the multiple vibrations got him shuffling his hand on his pocket, fishing his phone out from his cargo pants. 

“Damn, I gotta head back. Someone needs me in the studio…” 

“At this hour?!” You argued immediately.

“Yeah, unfortunately.” He ran his hand through his short hair in a frustrated way. 

“What’s your name?” 

You both stopped and looked at each other, dumbfounded. Both of you asked the same question at the same time. Laughter filled the air once again. 

“You first.” The guy gestured. 

You got up and he followed right after. Now looking at how tall he was compared to you, spelling out your name felt a little bit harder. Your heart was beating in an abnormal rate. You finally managed to tell him your name and you patted yourself internally for not voicing out like a squealing hormonal teenager. 

“I’m Namjoon.” He said with a huge contagious smile. 

“Now where did I hear that name—“

“Can I have your number?” He interrupted. Glancing at his phone screen, a small groan escaped his lips. “It’s almost three, you have to go home.”

“Oh.” Your lips formed a small O shape. “Sure. Here, give me your phone…”

You both then exchanged phone numbers. 

“I want to take you back to your home so badly but I really can’t…” Namjoon sighed. “Besides, my bicycle can only do so much…” He chuckled. 

“It’s okay, I live nearby.” You smiled. “You take care, though.”

“Yeah, you too. I’ll text you?”

“Yeah.” You nodded happily. “Thank you, Namjoon.” 

“Don’t mention it, I’m really glad we met today.” He nodded at you before retreating to where he parked his bicycle. 

“Wait!” 

You followed, running to his direction. You stopped when your arms barely linked behind him, hugging him tightly. It was bold of you but it just felt right at the moment. 

“Thank you so much, I mean it.” You said with voice muffled a little by his clothes against your mouth. 

And you did. You meant it, it felt really nice having someone who actually listened to your problem and seemed like he cared about it too. 

He hugged back. “You’re not unwanted, okay? You are loved, please know that.”

You nodded and broke off the hug. A big smile plastered on your lips and he mimicked it. “Okay, you may go now.”

You both bid your goodbyes and that was how you found yourself smiling and giggling at three in the morning, by yourself, on your way back to your place, all while hugging the sweater that you forgot to give back. That encounter was weird, but in a very good way. It almost felt like the universe sent you an angel knowing how down you were feeling. In a peculiar way, it almost felt like he saved you. You went to sleep easily that night. 

The next morning you were awaken by a text notification popping up from Namjoon. You smiled like an idiot to yourself before opening it. 

“Good morning! I hope you slept well. Did you arrive safe yesterday? Sorry something came up, I wished I could stay longer.”

You quickly replied to him. “I slept good. Probably thanks to you, hehe. No problem though! Maybe we could hangout again someday? I need to return your sweater after all :)”

After typing the text and sending it, suddenly a curious thought filled your head. His name did ring an unknown bell. Namjoon did mention that he was a singer, an idol maybe? You could not be sure. You tapped your Google app on your phone and started typing his name followed by the word “singer” behind it. 

Maybe this was your cue to be more aware of the Kpop industry. You had your fair share of listening to K-hiphop, and were even an avid listener of groups like Epik High and Balming Tiger. 

So how come you failed to notice that last night you in fact just hugged Kim Namjoon, aka RM from the internationally well known boy group, BTS???

Thank you for reading! 🌙

a/n: this was a rather short one but i hope y'all like it nonetheless <3

Prompt request: HERE

[fromgoy2joy]

After a tizzy of a freshman year of college as a jew-ish student, I'm packing boxes for uHaul.

My target-bought menorah went into the first box, along with all ten of my hillel sweatshirts. Pictures I had printed out from Purim are taken down, and neatly put into an envelope to be hung up later. My many books on Jewish culture and religion went into the second one. And so on, and so forth. The hamsa I lost three months ago was under my mini fridge.

As I put away each Jewish item, intermingled with my sweater collection and stuffed animals, I remember both the joy and grief of this year. A hostage necklace goes hand in hand with my Magen David in my jewelry box. A newspaper on a local antisemitic hate crime finds it place next to the belated "Hanukkah gift" my friend got for me in April. It's been so much to carry- both the joy of finding home along with the tangible feeling of uncertainty, fear, and pain.

And finally, I am on the fifth box. In the pocket of two separate winter coats, I found posters of two people-

one, the childhood best friend of a man I know, currently a captive in Gaza. I'd been given that picture, personally, by my friend who kept on referring to this hostage in the past tense. Then, he would continually correct himself, looking even more stricken as he made that mistake of letting what he's resigned to slip out. And I can't imagine- I can't. If the boys I played in the summer streams with were currently being tortured by my worst enemies. If I had no idea if the friend that sent me funny texts and assurances after a bad day was alive or not. The other, Hind Rajab, a Palestinian child killed in the crossfires of war. I found that poster blown off from a fence. It was one out of around sixty so I felt comfortable taking it home with me, just to look at her and remember. Her little face would've blended right in with the kids I helped out with every Monday for the last two semesters. Who could've cried on her last day of kindergarten, because she wouldn't see her teachers again, just like how all the six-year-olds clung to me when they realized it was my last day. In that moment, I laughed, pushing their hands off of me gently because I had to leave for Pesach celebrations. But at the same time, I thought of her and how she didn't get to see Eid.

When I come back to campus in September, with those boxes waiting in my new dorm for me, I will open up that box and see their faces. And I'll feel that sorrow as deeply as I feel it now and the moment I first learnt their stories. But I hope my friend's near-brother will be back home. And I hope - I hope to everything- that Palestinian children just like Hind will be able to go back home, get the help they need, and spend the rest of their childhoods crying over their teacher assistants leaving for summer breaks.

And when I see them in September, I'll think "We've done it. I'm sorry it took so long, I'm sorry it took this pain and nothing ever deserved to happen to you. But we did it."

[oneforthemunny]

the best day with you today |janitor!eddie munson x teacher!reader|

prompt: after the fostering and now adoption of oliver, eddie navigates life as a father. or the first time eddie is called "dad".

contains: life ruining fluffy angst. dad!eddie, mom!reader, mentions of past trauma, foster care, adoption, shitty parents, but really just cutesy fluff.

Wayne had been shocked to see them, Eddie and Oliver. Oliver in his sneakers and zip up hoodie, padding behind the older man up the stairs, sneaker clad steps against the creaking wood. He looked better since the first time he saw him, Wayne decided. A far cry from the scraggly, scared little thing with wide eyes that darted around the room at anything that he was when he first came. He looked more relaxed, confident- loved.

He'd looked so much like Eddie then. Looked so much like that same scared boy with a shaved head and nervous eyes that Wayne saw when Eddie'd first came to live with him. It made his heart twist with uncomfortable sympathy at the time, the parallels between the two. But now, Wayne was proud. The boy looked better- his grandson, officially.

Wayne had been there the day the judge announced the adoption, just shy of three weeks ago. Standing in the court room, lips pressed in a watery boasted smile, standing next to your parents, trying to hide his tears while Eddie beamed down at the young boy. You both looked so proud, so full of love. He knew the two of you would love Oliver the way he deserved, how a child should be loved and adored and doted on. It made his chest swell with pride, proud he’d raised such a good man. Wayne bragged on the two of you every chance he got, boasted to everyone about his grandson. Standing in grocery lines chatting to strangers- something he never did before- pulling a picture out of his wallet to show anyone who'd let him Ollie’s school pictures, laminated photos of them fishing, brag about his stellar report card.

"What're you two doin'?" Wayne grinned wide, lines around his eyes crinkling. The screen door to the trailer creaked loudly when he leaned against it. "Didn't know you were stoppin' by."

Eddie hugged his uncle briefly in greeting. "Hope we're not bothering you." He offered, but he knew they weren't. Wayne's small scoff assured him of that.

"You know you never bother me." Wayne shook his head. "'Specially not when you bring my favorite boy around." He grinned down at Oliver. "How you doin', Ollie? Gimme a hug, boy."

Oliver smiled back in greeting, throwing his arms around Wayne, a tight hug that only a child could give. Wayne was glad he was still small, still giving hugs. He was ten now, nearly eleven, growing more and more everyday.

"What brings you two over? Myrtle's comin' over in a few. We're gonna watch our program if ya like to stay." Wayne offered. Myrtle, from two trailers down, and Wayne had been in a casual fling for as long as you knew them. Eddie always shook his head when you asked him, shrugging and rolling his eyes at his uncle.

Oliver’s ears perked up at the mention of the older woman. He adored Myrtle, loved the records she played, and more importantly, that she made the best brownies in the world. She was always sneaking him a sweet treat, a tight lipped smile and a wink like it was a super secret.

"We came looking for a basketball." Eddie said with a nod, looking over at Oliver to confirm. "Ollie wants to try out for the fifth and sixth grade team, so we're going to practice."

Wayne hesitated, face falling for a moment, brows raising in question. "And you... you're gonna teach him, Ed?" He asked, brow lifted skeptically.

Wayne distinctly remembered when Eddie got the basketball, the last gift from his father. His father was fresh out of jail, for the fifth time, and Eddie was thirteen. He left Eddie a birthday gift, four months after his birthday, and it was a basketball. One he'd stole, no doubt, but given to Eddie as a 'heartfelt' gift. Eddie had tried to play, tried to learn, and Wayne had given it his best effort to teach him. He took him down to the courts by the trailer, but the boy could barely dribble, looking about as graceful as a bull in a china shop, open hand smacking the ball. The basketball had gone up that day and never gotten back out, sitting on the corner of Eddie's dresser in his room and collecting dust. Until today.

Eddie frowned, looking from Oliver back over to Wayne. "Yeah," He nodded, giving the younger boy a reassuring half smile. "We're going to go down to the school. Practice on the courts there." Eddie patted Ollie's head, rustling the curls underneath.

Wayne nodded, grinning down at the boy. "Well, that sounds like a big day." His brows raising in excitement, exaggerated for the younger boy. "Good thing you have your Daddy to teach ya, right, Ollie?"

Eddie felt his heart drop, squeezing in uncomfortable anticipation, craning down with a side eyed glare so hard it strained his eyes. His breath hitched, anticipating the rejection from Oliver, that soul crushing discard that would wreck Eddie. Ollie just nodded, unbothered by the term. They'd had Oliver in their care for a while now, he was in your class even before then, but Eddie was still hesitant about the titles.

Basketball in hand, wiping the thick layer of dust that covered it, Ollie and Eddie bounded back down the stairs, waving goodbye before setting off to the courts. Wayne watched them back out, head shaking in amusement at the two.

Eddie's heart hammered as they inched closer and closer to the school, sweaty palms he rubbed over the wheel in a tight grip. Oliver seemed unbothered, and he was glad, watching the boy in the rear view him along to his cassette, kicking his little Reeboks against the seat. Eddie’s stomach twisted, turned and lurched with bundles of nerves, the fear that he wouldn’t be able to fulfill what he was supposed to- that he’d let Oliver down.

His head clouded with judgement. He knew he wasn't the best for a basketball lesson, he should've asked Steve, but dammit if his selfish pride hadn't let him. When Oliver came to Eddie, expressing interest in trying out for the team, Eddie leaped at the opportunity. The thought of any other sharing the experience with him instead made his insides twist with jealousy.

So here he was, holding the rusty orange ball, awkward and unsure in his big hands, with the little boy in front of him, wide eyed and awaiting.

"Uh, you need to learn to dribble first. That would be a good place to start." Eddie nodded firmly, much less confidently than he should have. He paused then looked at Oliver. "Do you know how to dribble?"

Oliver shook his head, and Eddie's shoulders deflated slightly. "Right, right." He muttered, eyes flashing up quickly. "Not that that's a bad thing!" He replied frantically. "That's alright,, I mean, that’s why I-I'm here to teach you."

Eddie sounded sure enough, except, he wasn't entirely sure how to dribble. It couldn't be that hard, you just hit the ball and it bounces back up. "So, you take your hand and lay it kinda flat- like this," Eddie showed him, holding the ball in the other. "Then you just hit the ball hard, but not like too hard, just enough for it to come back up to you, like..."

Eddie dropped the basketball, other hand out in anticipation to smack it and show the dribble. The ball made a defeated thudding sound, the air sputtering out of it with a thick plop! before melting into the asphalt like putty, slouching with a collapse. Eddie frowned, picking the ball up, fingers pressing into the thick material of the ball, it felt squishy and molded to his touch. Eddie wasn't an expert by any means, but he was sure that wasn't supposed to happen.

Oliver titled his head to the side curiously, squinting when he looked up at Eddie. "I think it needs some air." He observed, in pure childlike obviousness.

Eddie let out a short huff, frustrated with himself, truthfully. Of course the ball was out of air. He hadn't touched the thing in well over twenty years.

"Yeah, I think you're right, buddy." Eddie nodded, lips pressing together in thought. He looked towards the school, patting his pockets. "I think there should be some in the gym closet. Maybe we could get one of those and use it?" Eddie suggested, fishing for his keys.

Oliver's eyes lit up in excitement, little sneakered feet bounding beside Eddie towards the school. "Can we get out the rolly chair things?" Oliver asked, grinning wide up at Eddie, bouncing on the rubber soled ends of his shoes. He was snaggletoothed, missing his front tooth after last weekend.

Eddie's heart melted. "Maybe. Only if Coach Bronski hasn't stacked them like a jackass again." He muttered, rolling his eyes in disdain for the elementary school coach. His eyes widened, looking down at Oliver, seeing the tiny smile on the boy’s face. "Don't say that word. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that." He said quickly.

Oliver giggled. "I won't."

Eddie grinned, squinting down at him playfully. "You better not. Your mom will kill me, buddy." Eddie groaned dramatically. His chest panged with a little jealousy, lips falling slightly when he pushed the key in.

Oliver had taken to calling you 'Mom' a few weeks ago, after Olivia was born. You'd cried when he did. Eddie was enthralled for you, he was, but he couldn't help but hurt a little for himself. It made him entirely too insecure for his own liking. He knew he shouldn't take it personally, that it was Oliver's pace of comfort and he would never do anything to pressure him. Yet he still felt consumed with fear, guilt, worries about why Oliver didn't feel comfortable with him yet to give him the title.

Eddie turned the lock, the bolt clicking loudly before it was unlocked. Eddie pushed the door open with a loud creak, letting the little boy scamped under his arm. Oliver's eyes were wide with wonder, looking around the empty gym that doubled as a cafeteria. The lunch tables were pushed into the wall, everything put away and lights dimmed for the weekend. Though he'd been in the school after hours, it was all still so exciting to the ten year old.

"Isn't it cool that you have a key to everywhere?" Oliver asked, eyes wide and shining up at Eddie.

"Yeah, 's pretty cool." Eddie grinned back down at him. "Sometimes it can be a lot of pressure. With great responsibility, though, Ollie." Eddie twirled his keys around.

Oliver giggled. "That's from Spider-Man." He said proudly, waiting for Eddie to open the door.

"It is." Eddie nodded. "You still liking Spider-Man?"

"Yeah." Oliver hummed. "I like Aqua-Man, too."

"Oh, don't tell me you're going over to the dark side with Uncle Dustin." Eddie groaned playfully. "You know Marvel is better than DC."

"I dunno." Oliver giggled with a shrug, purely boyish and sweet. Eddie’s heart squeezed in adoration. "I jus' like them both."

"That's alright. I'm just teasin' with ya." Eddie ruffled his locks with a smile. "As long as you don't start actin' like Dustin, we're good." He grinned at the laugh Oliver gave him.

Eddie fished the basketball out of the large big, giving it a few test bounces before the duo went back outside.

Eddie awkwardly showed Oliver how to dribble, the two moving around the red top courts outside with the grace of newborn fawns. Smacking hands, the boing! of the ball bouncing off the pavement while they chased it, hitting it at an uncomfortable angle.

"Run, run, Ollie!" Eddie laughed, clapping his hands with encouragement. "Just-Just dribble it- yeah! Yes! Just like that! Atta boy, look at you!" Jogging beside the younger boy, laughing gleefully while they smacked and chased the ball.

He knew this wasn't great 'coaching' on his part, but Oliver was having fun. Wide smile that crinkled his eyes and a laugh that rang through the open court. Eddie's own laugh joining in while the clambered back and forth, chasing the flyaway ball and bouncing it extra hard to see if it would go higher than the two of them. The two were positively silly running with the ball, but they were having fun.

Oliver rubbed his eyes, cheeks red and wind bitten from the outside, fighting a yawn while Eddie put the ball away. "You tired?" Eddie asked, small smile on his lips. He knew the answer, but the sleepy nod, bob of curls bouncing from the smaller boy shaking them made his heart warm, knuckling at his eyes.

Eddie patted his shoulder, hugging him to his side. "You did good today, Ollie." Eddie beamed proudly down at the boy- his son.

Truthfully, Eddie wasn't sure if Oliver did great or not, he's let Steve be the judge of that (he was the coach of the team after all), but he did know that they had fun. They'd laughed until their cheeks hurt, ran up and down the court until their sides ached with laughter.

Eddie's chest was warm, light and filled with content while Ollie grabbed his hand, an instant reaction when crossing the street towards the lot. He could hear your voice in his ears, “Look both ways, grab my hand.” Eddie could feel the hand in his, small and soft.

"I had a lot of fun." Ollie admitted, looking up at Eddie, eyes gleaming even in the gloomy sky. "Do you think we could do that again, Dad?"

Eddie's breath caught in his chest, strangled gasp that choked and sputtered out of his mouth. Heart lurching in his chest with surprise. His eyes widened, and he tried to will them to relax, knowing his reaction could scare Oliver. He was still fragile from his before home life, sudden reactions scared him still, sent him retreating and cowering.

"W-What?" Eddie stuttered, dumbly. He kicked himself for the reaction, wishing he would say something better than what he did. Especially when Oliver’s hand tensed in his.

"I-I liked dribbling on the court." Oliver muttered hesitantly, chin tucking to his chest, a sign of submission. Eddie's heart lurched in panic. "I'd like to do it again if-if you want to...with me. If you're not too busy with the baby or-or if you don't want to-"

"No." Eddie blurted, fiercer than he meant it to be. He cringed at himself, eyes shutting in irritation. Get it together, Munson.

"No, I mean, no I-I would never be too busy for you, Oliver, you know that." Eddie said sincerely, nodding down at the boy, rambling anxiously. "I just, uh, I- yeah, I had so much fun with you today too." Eddie admitted.

"Really?" Ollie asked, tilting his head to the side. "I thought you told Mom you didn't like sports and confor-forminin-"

"Conformity." Eddie snorted lightly with a grin. "I was just teasin' her. I just never had someone to play sports with me, but now I do, right? We can be sports...partners." Eddie was unsure of the word, but Oliver didn't seem to mind.

"Yeah," Oliver nodded. "Like-Like Aquaman and Aqualad." He grinned excitedly at the analogy.

Eddie let out an exaggerated breath of air, eyes rolling in playful dramatics. "Please, don't use your DC references around me."

Oliver giggled, pulling the handle of the car door open. He hung on the door for a moment, looking back at Eddie, tiny lips twisted in thought. "Spider-Man and Iron Man?" He offered, head tipping to the side.

Eddie grinned, dimples deep in his cheeks. "Better." He laughed, helping the boy into his booster seat.

Eddie got a little emotional seeing the base for Olivia's carrier next to Oliver's booster seat, one he was already about to outgrow before needing nothing at all. He'd never had a car seat or booster seat before coming to live with you and Eddie, carelessly strapping himself in before his mother would try to navigate home, usually too fucked up on whatever she's shot up her arms to see straight.

He'd been so little in your class, still small when he came into your care. A scrawny and malnourished little boy with dirty clothes that he tried to clean in the sink before school, usually coming into the classroom with his shirt still dripping, but he didn't want the other kids to tell him he smelled.

Now, he had a new wardrobe, Wayne and your parents spared no expense spoiling their new grandson, even before he was officially yours. He went to bed with a warm belly, clean sheets, clean skin, brushed teeth, and warm kisses. Oliver had flourished since then, not so bony anymore, a little taller; happier, loved.

Eddie secured the seat belt. "Maybe we should stop by the store and get a ball." Eddie suggested. "One that's not flat, if you want to play again."

Oliver nodded. "Yeah." He paused for a moment, little brows furrowed in thought. "Is-Is it ok if I call you Dad?" He asked, eyes shining up at Eddie's.

Eddie felt his breath hitch again, heart fluttering and beating so hard in his chest he thought it might shoot through his ribcage. "I-I mean, yeah." Eddie stuttered, frowning at himself dumbly. "Only if you want to, Ollie, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

Oliver looked down at his feet, dangling and hitting the seat. "I-I think I want to call you Dad." Oliver admitted. "Because I call Mom, Mom, and-and you're my Dad like Mom's my Mom." His logic was simple, boyish, but it made Eddie's nose and throat burn, happy tears but emotional nonetheless.

"I think I'd like that too." Eddie agreed, jaw clenching to keep himself from crying. "I had a really great time with you today." Eddie reached down to hug the boy, a little awkward in the carseat but tight and full of love.

"Me too." Ollie smiled. "Thanks for teachin' me to dribble."

"No problem." Eddie pulled away, hands on the little boy's shoulders- his son's shoulders. "You're a natural, kid. Gonna be in the hall of fame."

Oliver laughed, but blushed at the praise. Eddie couldn't stop smiling, he was sure his cheeks were going to split open, but he couldn't help it.

Oliver bounded through the front door, kicking his little sneaker off in the pile by the bench, before running to find you.

Eddie could hear him in your bedroom, excitedly chattering about his day, showing you the new basketball. Shiny and new, still had the fresh rubber smell. You cooed back at him excitedly, smiling when he went to show Olivia, talking sweetly to her in her little bassinet.

"Hey," You greeted Eddie with a smile. "Good day? Heard dribbling lessons went great." You beamed.

Eddie nodded, sniffing slightly. "Yeah, yeah it was great. Amazing actually, he, uh," His eyes cut from Oliver and Olivia back to you. "He called me Dad today."

Your face melted with joy, a small gasp leaving your lips. You watched Eddie's eyes shine, watering, his lips press together in a tight line to keep his lips from quivering. "Oh, Ed," You coo, reaching your hand out instinctively to cradle his jaw.

You were so sweet like that, so kind. Nurturing and caring came so easy to you, Eddie was for certain you had to be some kind of saint, you were too perfect in every way. You wrapped your arms around Eddie's middle, squeezing him tight, feeling his arms wrap back around you.

Oliver continued to babble to Olivia, letting her grab onto his finger, gurgling spit and giving tiny baby cackles to her older brother when he'd talk to her. You'd been worried when the adoption process first started, and you had found out you were expecting, that it would mess things up, ruin what you'd built with Oliver. He'd been hesitant at first, more uneasy with the thought that you might replace him, but the second he met his little sister, he'd been completely wrapped around her tiny finger. Just like his daddy. Just like you.

You pressed your cheek to the soft fabric of Eddie's shirt, watching through glazed, love drunk eyes Oliver push Olivia's little bassinet, rocking her slowly. Eddie's hand ran up and down your back soothingly, pressing into the small of your back to pull your closer. It was everything you all could have wished for, your own little family.

for @wheels-of-despair bc I know this is your fave lil family <3

[ultrone]

shauna shipman x spidergirl!r real

🕷️🕸️ ⋮ shauna with spidergirl!gf

under the dimly lit city skyline, dressed in your spider-girl suit that was partly obscured by an unzipped sweater and some pants, you swiftly swung through the labyrinth of skyscrapers. an all-too-familiar scenario unfolded before you—another late arrival for a date with shauna because crime always found a way to interfere.

you had just finished dealing with two petty thieves, and while it felt like a routine for you, it often put your punctuality in jeopardy. as you hurriedly swung towards the diner, an hour late, you were praying to god that shauna would still be there waiting for you—although deep down, you knew she was already gone. she knew about your double life as spider-girl, but that didn't make the constant rescheduling any less frustrating.

reaching the diner, you plopped down to catch your breath and took off your mask, zipping up your sweater to conceal your suit. as you entered the place, a small bell rang, but a quick glance confirmed that shauna had already left.

“fuck,” you muttered with clenched teeth. sighing, you stepped outside, holding your mask in your fingers, and scanned the dark parking lot. you decided to swing past the way to her house, hoping to catch her on her way—the last text from her was just ten minutes ago, so she couldn't be too far.

putting your mask back on, you swung through the maze of trees and buildings that were on the way to your girlfriend's house. luckily, you spotted her from afar, crossing an empty street. you hung back a bit, making sure no one was around to avoid attracting attention.

finally, as she reached a more secluded spot, you seized the opportunity to make your presence known. you descended from the sky, silently landing right in front of her, suspended upside down by a web.

"boo," you said playfully, trying to lighten the mood a bit before having to confront her.

shauna jumped back, her hand pressed against her heart. "holy fuck, y/n! you almost gave me a heart attack!" she exclaimed, trying to catch her breath.

you couldn't help but grin beneath your mask. "my bad, couldn’t resist surprising you."

"surprise accomplished," she shot back with a hint of sarcasm, but you could tell the tension in her shoulders began to ease.

she stood right there, her gaze fixed on you, arms crossed, and wearing a deadpan expression. you found yourself unable to meet her eyes even underneath the mask, afraid to break the tense silence—she was definitely pissed.

"so, are you coming down?" she asked, her tone making you feel like a child who's about to get scolded.

you sheepishly glanced at your body, realizing you were still hanging upside down in front of her. “oh— yeah, of course,” you stammered with a nervous chuckle as you attempted to cut the web. your hands were trembling though, and you ended up landing clumsily on your face.

"ouch," you muttered, standing up awkwardly and taking off your mask to rub your forehead.

if shauna weren't so annoyed with you right now, she would have burst out laughing and followed it with the sweetest kiss—you looked adorable with your scruffy hair due to the mask and your little pout because of the forming bruise on your forehead.

"i'm sorry," you began, finally able to meet her gaze, "i swear i left home early. but, on my way there, there was this lady, and—" you started rambling until your explanation was cut short as she interrupted.

"this is literally the fifth time you've been late this month, y/n," she said firmly. "i know you want to help everyone, but it feels like you're putting everything else before me and our relationship."

"no, no, no," you hurriedly responded, moving closer to her and tenderly placing your hands on her cheeks. "baby, you're the most important thing in the world to me," you said as shauna unconsciously leaned into your touch. "i'm so sorry for making you feel this way. i promise i'll never put anything above our relationship ever again," you promised her.

she looked a bit unsure, but you sensed her heartbeat slowing down, and her expression softened under your touch. "i promise, okay? i mean it this time," you assured her, peering at her with pleading eyes. "i love you, shauna," you said sincerely.

she wanted to be angry at you, but she just couldn’t. and she couldn’t hide the small smile that started forming on her face either. "i love you more, y/n," she replied, gazing at you with those beautiful big brown eyes you adored so much. softly, she placed one of her hands on top of yours, while the other slid to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer for a soft and affectionate kiss. your lips fit together perfectly, and instinctively, you wrapped your hands around her waist, drawing her even closer as she reciprocated by wrapping her arms around your neck.

after a few more seconds, you both separated to catch your breath, but as you rested your forehead against hers, you winced in pain.

“sshit!” you muttered, making a pained expression as you gently touched your forehead.

shauna giggled and looked at you affectionately. "stop touching it, you're gonna make it worse," she said, taking your hand in hers and interlacing your fingers.

"c'mon, let's go home and get you cleaned up," she suggested, pulling you close and giving your bruise a feather-light kiss.

u’re amazing for having this thought, i loved writing this blurb so much 😭