#it doesn’t matter if it would make things awkward or if i’d fall out w both of them it bc like

[munamania]

guys i’m a little bit afraid film girls friend is like a little into me maybe idk not that it matters but

[ch3rriewine]

Photo Booth Kissin' {P.P.}

summary: Peter's an awkward loverboy, but he's your awkard loverboy.

warnings: none i think just fluff :3, TASM!Peter Parker x reader hehe, no use of y/n, reader is kinda like super girly w the bows and sparkles idk

a/n: I HAVENT WRITTEN IN MONTHS SORRY here tho!

Peter’s life was boring—peaceful, but boring. Don’t get him wrong; being Spiderman is cool and all, but Peter Parker’s life could use some work. The most exciting thing that has happened to him recently was the time he got two yolks in one egg. Riveting stuff, right?

During another one of his literature classes that he doesn’t know why he took, he spots you. With a bow in your hair and a knit sweater falling over your figure, your head propped on your manicured hand while scribbling notes with the other. You sit in front of him and if Peter squints, he can see the small doodles littering the pages. Before he knows it, the professor announces that the lecture is done for the day. Peter panics; he wants to talk to you before you disappear and turn out to be a dream, but what would he even say? Doesn’t matter anymore since he chases after you to the door.

“Hey,” he says, looking a tad flushed after tripping over someone's water bottle.

“Oh, hi” you respond, your eyes a little widened at the sudden interaction.

“I, uh, I’m Peter” he say, sticks out his hand for you to shake. You take it and tell him your name. He repeats it in his head about a hundred times.

“I just, uhm, wanted to ask about…” he trails off, trying to remember if there were any assignments given. “The essay he said we had to do, yeah. When is it due again?” he hopes to any higher being that there was an essay due soon.

“Ah, yeah, it’s due next Monday” you reply, giving him a tight-lipped smile, ready to go back to your dorm.

“Cool, uhm, thanks! See you around, hopefully” with that, he bolts, leaving you confused and flushed. Hopefully

The cute boy in your class wants to see you around.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

Two days later, Peter sees you again. It’s in the same class, and you’re as pretty as ever. He psyches himself up to sit next to you.

You look up from your laptop when he asks you if he can sit next to you. You nod, of course, and smile. He looks nervous, with fingers tapping on the table and cheeks a little red. It’s cute.

“Have you started on that essay?” you ask, trying to start conversation since it looks like he won’t.

“Huh? What essay? We have an essay?” he turns to face you, eyes wide.

“Yeah, the one you asked me about?” you laugh a little.

“Oh, no, I didn’t” his shoulders slump back down, and you smile at him.

“I didn’t either; I had other work to finish” he stares at you a little; it’s flattering, really. How shy he is around you. He barely knows you, but he’s convinced himself that you’re the greatest thing ever. He also may have looked up your instagram and fallen even harder as he looked at all your posts. Peter now knows what you ate at Thanksgiving 3 years ago.

“Same, I’m in STEM so you could imagine” he says, resting his head onto the table. Sleep deprivation a thing he is well acquainted with, unfortunately.

“STEM, wow, you must be smart then. Why’re you taking a classic lit class then?” Sure, you might’ve slipped in a compliment; it's not a crime to flirt a little. It takes Peter a few seconds to respond as he processes what you said, you think he’s smart.

“Uh, I was going through a phase with classic lit at the time, and I’ve been lazy to drop it. And, uh, I’m not that smart—pretty average actually. Like the most moderate person ever” He’s rambling and kind of lying. He’s doing really well in his other classes.

“Yeah? I think you’re pretty smart if you’re in STEM. Not everyday a guy is both pretty and smart.” His cheeks turn even redder, if possible, and he makes a sort of out of breath sound. “If you need any help with this class, I’d be happy to give you my notes on the book”

Jesus, you’re gonna kill the poor boy.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

From then on, you sit beside him and throw in some flirty comments while he struggles to reciprocate. It feels too good to be true, how you seem interested in him and how you eagerly talk to him after lectures, even giving hm your number to talk about “class”. He’s waiting for the day you ghost him.

“Hey, would you maybe want to, like, hang out? Like on a date or something? Or just as friends! Actually, yeah, just hang out as friends; forget I said date sorry,“ he flounders, waiting for the rejection. Oh God, he’s just messed up the whole friendship and you’re gonna think that he’s weird and a creep and-

“I’d love to go on a date, Peter,” you smile “I was waiting for you to ask.”

“Oh, great, is Saturday at 3 okay? I’ll meet you outside your building and we could walk to that arcade?” He asks, eyes hopeful.

“Saturday at 3 is great. I love arcades, but you have to help me with the claw machines” For someone so smart and handsome, he doesn’t let himself think people like him.

“See you Saturday, Peter” you tiptoe to kiss his cheek, leaving sticky residue from your sparkly gloss and walk to your next class. He stands in place, a little starstruck and a lot flustered. He leaves the lipgloss there.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

Saturday finally comes, and now it’s your turn to be nervous. You’ve switched outfits countless times, your hair is out of place, and your makeup doesn’t seem to flatter you. You’ve settled on a pretty blue dress with tights to protect you from the small chill. Two little bows clipped into your hair and knit cardigan falling over your shoulders—makeup finally looking presentable enough with maybe a little too much glitter on your eyes, but whatever. Your phone chimes as you’re applying pink sparkly gloss, and your heart skips a beat. He’s here.

You throw your phone and lip gloss in your purse and bolt out the door. You spot him outside your building, as promised. He looks wonderful. Brown sweater and worn-in denim jeans—you can’t believe he’s so shy around you when he looks like that. He finally spots you, and wow, he thinks.

“Hey," he scolds himself for being so casual when he should be whisking you away to Italy, or something. He could’ve at least gotten you flowers.

“Hi, you look great,” you say in front of him, and seeing you up close is making him fall even harder, if possible.

“You look, wow, you’re just, wow” he can’t even believe you’re into him.

“Cmon, I wanna win some plushies,” you say, grabbing his hand and pulling him along. He grips your hand harder and laces your fingers.

The walk is calm and the air is starting to get cool. You talk about class and a show you started. Peter listens intently, making mental notes about what you like and don’t like. Your hands stay intwined, and his thumb traces patterns on the back of your hand. He’s gotten more comfortable and less panicky in your presence, so you get to see his personality shine through. He’s incredibly funny. You can’t stop laughing on your way there, and he can’t stop thinking of more things to make you laugh.

The arcade is dark, with flashing lights from every game. Peter goes to buy some tokens, refusing your offer to pay half. Grabbing Peter’s hand and making a beeline for the claw machines, everyone knows they’re rigged, but you don’t care. You eagerly take the tokens and attempt to win the Kuromi plushie. After the 5th? 6th attempt? When the claw has dropped the plushie, you give up.

“Why do they do this to people! It’s false hope!” you whine to Peter as he laughs at your pout.

“Lemme try,” he nudges you over and puts in a token.

You watch with eyebrows furrowed as he wins it on his first attempt.

“What the hell, Peter?” you crouch to pull the plushie from the machine.

“What? Do you not like it?” He faces you, examining the stuffed, is she a rabbit? What animal even is Kuromi?

“I love her; just, how did you win it?” You look up at him incredulously. He must have some weird power that makes him win every claw machine.

“Oh, I don���t know; just position it right?” He laughs, his eyes crinkling in the process. You want to smooth them out with your fingers.

“Thank you!” you’re genuinely really excited over a cheap stuffed toy, not because you really wanted it, but because Peter won it for you. You wrap your arms around his neck in thanks. Peter freezes. He fees like a teenager at how he’s reacting to a hug of all things. He snaps back and hugs you back. You pull away to kiss his cheek. This is the second time you’ve kissed his cheek, and he doesn’t know how he’ll ever get used to it.

“Lets go play games, pretty boy,” pulling away and leaving Peter to gather his brain and follow along.

You watch as he plays Pac-Man; its silly, but you love his face when he’s focused. Brows furrowed and lips in a thin line. He really is the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. And he’s infatuated with you! Of all people! You swear half the girls in the class have a crush on him, but he gets nervous around you. You play some air-hockey, which you won (he let you win), and he won you some more plushies and some candy at the infamous claw machines.

When the games get old, the two of you leave the building. The sun is setting at this point, and you’re dreading leaving him.

“Oh, look! There’s a photo booth!” you point, excitedly tugging on his arm. “We should take some pictures.” you drag him into the booth, both of your thighs squished together and his legs at an awkward angle. He feeds the machine a few bucks, and the screen starts to count down.

You put on a sickly sweet smile, scrunching your eyes while Peter smiles big with pearly white teeth on display. The second photo you lean into Peter and he wraps his arm around you, pulling your body close to his. The third photo, you go for it. You grab his face and kiss him. His hands stay in the air as the glitter on your lips transfers to his. You taste like vanilla. You pull away, a little anxious that he didn’t want it. Those thoughts get pushed away when he grabs the sides of your face and kisses you until you can’t think. His hands are warm and big covering your cheeks as his lips move against yours. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck once more and deepen the kiss. Your lips move together in tandem as he strokes your cheeks with his thumbs, the movement comforting.

The fourth photo is blurry, and you walk out with all your lipgloss on Peter’s lips.

[forever-rogue]

if i can send another request: uh how about reader is a helper in marcus moreno's house and she thinks her feelings are unrequited bc she helps marcus get ready to go on a date. And then she has to look over missy while hes on the date and missy is like: u like him right. And reader is like: no way thats unprofessional. And missy looks at her like really? And finally reader caves and says yeah i like you. And at the very end marcus ends up confessing he does like reader and it ends happy? 😭😭

I love 1 (one) crime fighting hero/tired dad. This got real soft, enjoy!

Marcus Moreno x fem!reader; warnings: slight language

Pedro Characters Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Thanks for doing this," Marcus' voice is soft as he calls to you from his bedroom. You remind yourself of the current situation and plaster on the best smile you could muster up. But you weren't fooling yourself - or Missy for that matter. She rolled her eyes as she passed by and headed to the kitchen table to start homework; she had a lot to say but it could wait for now.

"Its no problem, Marcus," you promised through slightly gritted teeth as you reminded yourself that you had no reason to be jealous - no reason to have feelings other than friendly for your closest friend.

"C-can you help me real quick?" there was an almost nervous quality to his voice as you made a small sound of confirmation before pushing open the door to his bedroom. Your jaw almost dropped sight; Marcus was standing in front of his mirror, looking more handsome than anyone should have legally been allowed to.

Opting to stick with his love of black on black, he was sporting a pair of well fitting black trousers and a black button that displayed the muscles of his back whenever he moved. You barely caught yourself when you realized he was holding two ties in his hand and displayed them to you.

Flitting over to him, you took both options and shook your head, tossing them into the bed. He didn't say anything but raised a brow in amusement, "no tie. Just what you have on is fine. The black on black is an excellent choice."

"Yeah?" he asked as a nervous smile tugged on the corners of his mouth, "its not too...depressing?"

"Not at all, its very se- you look good Marcus," you promised him as he let out a nervous huff of laughter, "she's going a lucky lady, and she's going to love you."

"Hmm," he mused for a moment, turning his gaze to you in the mirror and trying to read your expression. You quickly dropped your eyes, not sure if you were quite ready to cross that bridge just yet - or ever. His hands went to the top buttons and he quickly undid a few, exposing the smallest amounts of golden skin, "listen, I-"

"I should go and help Missy with her homework," you quickly cut him off before anything else could happen or heavens forbid you confessed your undying love then and there, "and you finish getting ready, mister!"

Before anything else could be said, you darted out of his room and towards the kitchen where Missy was pretending to be engrossed in a book. You knew she was keen on getting as much information as possible and had not doubt been trying to listen in. She closed her book as you took a seat next to her and offered her a small smile.

"How does pizza sound for dinner? We can even go crazy and get ice cream for dessert," you suggested and despite her attempt at a serious look her eyes lit up with excitement as she nodded, "don't worry, we won't tell your dad. It'll be our secret."

"Alright ladies," Marcus came out of the bedroom now sporting that damned leather jacket that made you weak in the knees on top of it all. It was the glasses, perched smartly on his nose that set you off though. How could one man look so good? Practically unfair. Missy nudged your leg to snap out of your little daydream as you caught yourself, "I'm headed off. I won't be back too late. Missy, I want all your homework done and bed at a reasonable hour."

"Fine dad," she groaned as she pulled her folder out of her background with the day's homework.

"And you," he turn his attention back to you as you felt a flush of warmth wash over your face, "are an absolute angel. I don't know what I'd do without you. I owe you big time."

"Don't  worry about a thing," you insisted as you motioned your head towards the door, "now go and have fun, Marcus. You deserve it."

"Thanks," there was that stupid, silly, soft smile on his face again, "see you tonight."

With a small wave, he was off on his date. There was a soft tugging on your heart and the back of your eyes burned ever so slightly. You took a breath to collect yourself and decided to ignore it all. It didn't matter anyways, Marcus was going on a date with not you, and whoever she was, she would undoubtedly fall in love with him. It was Marcus Moreno, after all, who wouldn't fall in love?

Missy watched you silently for a few moments before deciding not to bring anything up...not just yet anyway.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“You should tell him you know,” Missy said through a mouthful of ice cream - chocolate chip cookie dough with lots of brownie and fudge, her all time favorite. Your brow furrowed in confusion as you tried to figure out what she could possibly mean. Your stomach churned at the realization, “my dad - you should tell him you like him.”

“W-why would I do that?” you stammered nervously as you tried to keep your face neutral. Missy groaned at your vain attempt as it become very obvious that the young girl knew exactly how you felt, “Missy, I can’t do that. He doesn’t...he couldn’t possibly ever feel the same way.”

“Why not?” she asked as she possibly off her bowl before setting down on the coffee back and pausing the movie you’d been watching, “you and dad both like each other! You might as well tell each other and get it over with. Besides, you’re a million times better than whatever her name is that he’s on a date with.”

“How could you possibly know that?” you laughed lightly at her fervent insistence, the words that he liked you too not lost on you at all.

“Because she’s not you,” she insisted, “and dad really likes you. He’s just...too awkward sometimes. I know he just doesn’t want to mess anything up. But I’m telling you, you both need to stop being fools and tell each other you’re in love!”

“Alright, little Missy,” you groaned lightly as she smiled triumphantly - she had you hook, line, and sinker, “time for bed, it’s late anyways. Go brush your teeth and get changed. I’ll check on you in a little bit.”

“Fine,” she sighed heavily, a trait definitely inherited from Marcus, “but you know I’m right! Tell him!”

You were about to make a smart retort as you watched her giggling form disappear up the stairs but decided against. Apparently all the times you thought you were subtle about your affections towards Marcus, you were being anything but.

Shit, shit, shit. Hopefully he’d never noticed. He was a Heroic, you reminded yourself, of course he knew. But he’d never said anything, never treated you oddly...maybe he didn’t know after all. Maybe this was one of the things he was blind to. Yeah...that was surely it. Besides, why would someone like him ever like you? You were just you and he was...everything.

You’d been so lost in your conversation with Missy and now your own thoughts that you’d had heard the front door open and close. You hadn’t noticed as Marcus slowly made his way into the kitchen and overheard everything. But Missy did - she was his daughter after all, and her little scheme played out exactly out she had planned.

Sighing, you stood up and stretched, still unawares of the eyes glued to you. Marcus smiled at the little sound you made, his own heart thumping nervously as he realized what he needed to do. His date had ended early - his decision -and it hadn’t been particularly fun. His date had been nice, pretty, kind, but at the end of it all, she wasn’t you. That’s what he had wanted. Enough with the skirting around the issue - he was finally going to tell you how he felt.

Scooping the dirty bowls up, you tried to figure out just how you were going to tell Marcus about your feelings. Missy wouldn’t drop it, you knew she wouldn’t. You could just get straight out with it - direct and to the point and lay all the cards on the table.

Or was that too direct? Should you hint some more; although that hadn’t gotten you very far either....fuck. Nope you were just going to have to do it once and for all.

“Marcus - I’m in love with you,” you tested the words out to yourself to see how they would sound. Your voice was a small, soft thing, but you couldn’t deny that you liked how they sounded. Deciding that it would just take some practice to get yourself ready to say the words to him, you repeated the words, “I love you, I love you, I love you. Marcus Moreno - I am in love with you.”

As you flipped on the kitchen light, you let out a small scream and almost dropped the bowls in your hands as you finally spotted Marcus. He was quick to your side and took the bowls from you, setting them back on the counter and offering you a sheepish, but soft expression. Nothing but horror washed over you as quickly came to the conclusion that he must have heard everything single thing you’d said.

“M-Marcus,” you fumbled over your words as he watched you with a soft expression, “I-I-I didn’t hear you come in, didn’t know you were back. I was just umm...playing around. Missy, she umm, I didn’t...ughh...Oh...this is...I didn’t mean it?”

“I got back a little bit ago,” he confessed as you hid your face in his hands; yeah, he’d heard everything, “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Listen, Marcus, I didn’t mean it, it’s just...Missy thinks that we’re in love or something, and I was just messing around...” it might have been the weakest lie you’d ever told and the look on his face said that he didn’t believe a word of it. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think...he was happy, “wait - you’re back? I didn’t expect you for another hour or so.”

“Left earlier than expected,” he admitted as he tried to still the wild beating of his own heart. He took a step closer and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you tried to not completely lose the remaining grips on reality you had, “wasn’t quite feeling it.”

“Oh?” you asked softly as he shrugged lightly, “w-what happened?”

“She wasn’t you,” he echoed Missy’s words from earlier as an involuntary smile crossed your features. Holy shit - was this actually happening? No, no, no, this must be all a dream, “I should have asked you to dinner. A long time ago actually. I don’t know why I didn’t. I guess Missy’s right, I’m just an awkward uncool dad.”

“Me?” you pointed at yourself as he laughed lightly and nodded, “why on earth would you ask me?”

“Why would I...I thought it was kind of obvious by now?” he tilted his head to the side as you looked at him with wide, innocent eyes, “I mean, Missy pretty much spilled the beans...”

“Wait, wait, wait,” you looked at him nervously, still refusing to believe that this was actually happening, “you like me? Me?”

Then he whispered your name, so softly, so reverently, so gently before reaching over and putting his hand gently on your cheek, “I’m in love with you.”

“Me,” you didn’t bother to try and hide your smile as he nodded, “I....yeah. Me too. Obviously. She’d been pushing me to tell you, but I didn’t want to...”

“Mess anything up?” he finished for you as you nodded, letting out the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in, “me neither.”

“Sooo...” you trailed off and flicked your eyes back his, admiring the way the soft brown orbs stared back into your, crinkling in the corners as his dimple was on display, “ummm...I should...I should go since you’re back.”

“Is that really what you want?” he teased as you shook your head before laughing, “do you know what I want?”

“Ummm.... no?”

“I really, kind of want to kiss you,” he admitted as your heart blossomed with joy at his gentle words, “if that’s okay.”

“Yeah,” you bit your lip lightly, “I want that too.”

And then it happened, easily, fluidly, almost like you’d both been doing it forever. His hands found your waist as you tugged you close, your arms snaking around his neck as you leaned up to meet his kiss, His lips were plush and soft, and even better than you could ever have dreamed. It wasn’t some rough and brash tangle of teeth, with either of you fighting for dominance; no, this was slow and easy, intimate to its core and filled with nothing but longing and desire.

This was exactly what you’d always envisioned.

“It’s about time,” the two of you slowly pulled apart at the sound of her voice as you tried to find Missy peeking at the two of you from the foot of the stairs, “I told you both!”

Before either of you could say anything else, she darted upstairs and back to her bedroom, slamming the two shut as he pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms tightly around you. He chased your lips with his own, giving you a few more soft pecks before you grinned at each other like fools in love which, you supposed, you were.

“She’s too smart for her own good sometimes,” he sighed lightly as you touched his cheek, “but I’ll let this one slide.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh honey,” he whispered before kissing you again - it was already something he never wanted to stop doing now that he’d had a taste, “what were you saying about having to leave?”

“I don’t remember,” you teased with a kiss to his cheek.

“Stay?” he asked softly; it was a question that held a lot more meaning than just one night, or something temporary. You both knew exactly what it meant.

“Yes,” you promised, “I’ll stay.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[ibuki-loves-you]

Drv3 boys(or any of your choice) with a s/o that's mikan reincarnated(not literally just personality and action wise very similar)

DRV3 Boys with a S/O that is like Mikan

Warnings: Mikan's personality/actions

Mod Ibuki: This was so fun to write! Sorry if it's a little repetitive

Shuichi:

Oh boy-

Shuichi and you are both shy

But you moreso than him, so he gets really protective

He wants no one making fun of you or using you

One time you thought he was mad at you

You were nonstop apologizing and offering to take your clothes off

His heart shattered

"S/O, I'm not mad I promise! You did absolutely nothing wrong. Don't worry, it's okay."

When you get like this he just holds you and pets your hair

And gives you lots of forehead kisses

If you ever fell in front of him he would try to prevent it by either catching you or warning you

If he doesn't then he just helps you up and covers you if need be

"I-I'm sorryyyy!" "It's okay, baby. Don't apologize, it's okay."

When Kokichi began trying to make you upset, he was livid

"Hey, S/O! You're making me really angry!" "Am I?! I-I'm so sorry! I-I'll take my-" "Shut up, Kokichi. S/O, you did nothing wrong. He's trying to upset you. Ignore him, he isn't worth it." "O-Oh..."

Shuichi just wants you to be safe, and he's willing to do a lot for you to be that

Kaito:

Kaito thinks your shy nature is adorable!

Like Shuichi, he is also very protective

He doesn't want anyone cough Kokichi taking advantage of you

Kaito gets really upset when you apologize consistently

He's been trying to work with you on it

"I-I-I'm so s-sorry!!!" "S/O, babe! It's okay! You did nothing wrong! Don't apologize!"

Kaito doesn't mind that you are clumsy

It just gives him a reason to hold onto you!

But if you do end up taking a fall, he's quick to help

And rip anyone who makes fun of you a new one

Before you two were dating, Miu frequently insulted you

Almost every time she did you freaked out

"Ahhhhh! I-I'm sorry!! I-I'll take m-my clothes off if y-you want!"

Kaito shut that shit down quick

"S/O, no. You don't have to do that."

If you ever thought he was mad at you, he'd be pretty sad

"S/O, I promise you that I am not mad. I swear on every star in the sky."

Boy loves you so much and just wants you to be the best person you can be

Rantaro:

As soon as Rantaro saw you he immediately wanted to protect you

No one ever really tries to fuck with you because Rantaro will get mad and since it's pretty hard to make him angry everyone got freaked out

Everyone learned that the hard way

First time Kokichi tried fucking with you Rantaro handed his ass to him on a silver platter

"Hey, S/O! Heard you can do animal impressions super well! Mind showing me what a dog looks like?" "O-Okay..."

Rantaro never pulled you to his chest so quick

"So help me, Kokichi. Don't you fucking dare."

No one really heard him swore before so everyone was freaked out

If you took a fall in front of him, his reflexes are quick

If he couldn't catch you, he's insanely fast you help or cover you up

No one is catching a glance at you don't worry

If you ever thought he was mad at you, he'd immediately go to comfort you

"I-I'm sorry! I-I d-didn't mean to upset y-you!"

"No, baby please. Don't apologize. You did nothing wrong. You did nothing to upset me. I'm not mad, either. I promise. I'll even pinky promise."

Rantaro loves you so so much just let him hold you I'd make his entire life <3

Kokichi:

At first, Kokichi thought it was hilarious

He thought you were just shy

Until you offered to take your clothes off because he started fake-crying

Ever since then he hasn't played intense pranks on you, teased you, etcetera

No one has ever seen him actually care about someone

So it was a shock when he snapped at Miu for making fun of you

"Fuckin' slut! Why don't you offer to take your clothes off for me!?" "I-I'm s-sorry! I-I will if y-you want!"

"Listen you fucking skank. They aren't gonna do that for you because you don't control them. So why don't you carry your sorry ass to your dorm and go play with yourself."

Miu was appalled, just like everyone else

She just cowered away and muttered an apology

Kokichi is well aware that you are clumsy

If you're embarrassed because of a fall, he'll trip too

Or start crying to divert attention

Say you land in a rather awkward position, he will cover you up as soon as he sees and if anyone looks he will throw hands

If you were to think he was mad at you for some reason, he would feel so bad it's not even funny

"S/O... I'm not mad! I couldn't be mad at you. You're too cute to get mad at! You did absolutely nothing wrong, so don't apologize!"

You're Kokichi's soft spot <3

Ryoma:

Never once has he laughed or made fun of you

If anything, he lowkey pitied you

Although Ryoma is small, he can and will fuck someone up for you if it came down to it

One time he nailed Kokichi in the shin with a tennis racket for telling you to act like a cat

"Say it again, I dare you."

Kokichi didn't bother you for a while

If you ever thought he was angry with you, poor boy would have mixed emotions

He would be upset but also angry with himself for making you think that

"Hey... I'm not mad. I don't think I have the ability to be mad at you. I promise, you did nothing to piss me off."

Ryoma can't really catch you if you fall, but he's quick to try and help you up

If you are exposed in some way, he will stand in front of you until you fix yourself

He will protect you for as long as he lives and that's a promise

Gonta:

Gonta was kinda clueless when it came to you

You were shy? Okay!

Even though he didn't really understand, he knew some things were wrong

Like when Miu would insult you and you'd either cry or offer to please her

"Miu! That's not nice! Don't say that to S/O! You don't have to do anything you don't want, S/O!"

Ever since then Gonta got pretty protective

If you ever thought he was mad, he'd probably bawl

"G-Gonta not mad at S/O! Gonta promise! Gonta not mad at all!"

Falling is 50/50 with him

Half of the time he catched you beforehand

The other half you fall and he feels bad

But either way he shields you and helps you up immediately

"Because it's what gentleman do!"

You're like a butterfly to him

Fragile and something that he wants to keep safe

Korekiyo:

Kiyo found you facinating

Your timid nature drew him to you at first

He would merely talk to you and try to be your friend

"Is there a reason why you are so shy, dear?" "O-Oh, I got b-bullied a lot...I-I'm sorry! I should k-keep my sob story to m-myself!" "Please don't apologize. I would like to know as much about you as you'd let me." "O-Oh...o-okay..."

Ever since that first conversation he kept you out of harms way

One day, Miu started insulting you (as usual)

"Ahhhh! I-I'm sorry! I-I can t-take my clothes off i-if you want!" "Hell ye-!" "Say such a thing again and I will be sure to make the next trial yours."

He worked with you a lot after that about offering to take your clothes off in return for forgiveness

"Darling, you have no one to please except yourself. Your body is yours and you should not offer to display it to those you don't want to. Especially if they are unworthy of seeing such a beautiful sight."

If you ever thought he was mad at you, he would be quick to tell you otherwise

"Never, my dear. I am certainly not angry with you. I swear, I don't think I possess the ability to be angered by you."

Kiyo has helped you grow so much, and that's the most beautiful thing in his eyes <3

Kiibo:

When Kiibo first met you, he had a strange feeling

He went to Miu about it and laughed in his face

She told him he was feeling protective

"What a strange feeling...should I act on it?" "Hell yeah!!"

"S/O, I have a feeling called 'protectiveness' towards you." "O-Oh! I-I don't know w-why you'd have such a feeling towards a n-nobody like m-me..." "Don't say such things! Would you like to accompany me to the library?" "I-If it's not a b-bother..."

Miu wouldn't make fun of you, she actually considers you a friend

Kokichi though

Another story

"Hey, S/O! You really pissed me off yesterday!" "Ahhhh!!! I-I'm so sorry!! D-Do you w-want me to take off m-my clothes?" "No, S/O! That isn't necessary! He is lying and is trying to make you upset!"

Miu would deal with Kokichi don't you worry S/O

If you ever thought Kiibo was mad at you, he'd be so confused

"What caused you to think I was angry? Actually, it doesn't matter. What matters is that you know I am not mad in the slightest."

If you ever took a fall in front of him, he would help you up immediately!

But if you fell in a suggestive position, he'd crash

Tenko would rush to help you if that happened

Then she'd curse him out on his degenerate male robot brain

Moral of the story, Kiibo wants to protect you from anything that comes your way! And trust me, he will not fail you!

[yandere-sins]

Idk If you have rules cuz I can't seem to find it but Osamu(Haikyuu) as mafia(if ur not comfy then you can ignore this part) who Kidnapped u and is obsessed(the "I'd rip out my heart for you" type of obsessed) who would literally do anything for you😋and puts you always first before anyone else🗿a soft yandere but will k!ll anyone who gets near you type so Osamu being possesive of you🤩

Nope! No rules, there aren’t enough people who care for them and I don’t want to stress about it anymore. If I don’t like a request, I just delete it. I prefer Yakuza over Mafia, hope you don’t mind! Thanks for requesting, enjoy ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««     

Even the careful Osamu couldn’t keep you from stirring in your sleep as he opened the door to the apartment. This was probably the first night ever you had been able to fall asleep in peace, and yet, you sat up while he tiptoed through the hallway towards the only room you two shared. Rubbing your eyes, you heard a soft gasp, making you look up.

“Didn’t mean to wake ya...” Osamu grumbled before stepping into the room fully, walking over to the mini-fridge he kept stocked with basic food like rice balls and ice cream in the freezer compartment. The light briefly illuminated his body, showing you a sight you didn’t want to see while he restocked some food in the fridge, either unaware or indifferent about his looks.

You looked away, biting your lips. It had all started out innocently enough, your father paying a Yakuza to keep you safe while there were some even worse guys after him. Even if the arrangement had been strange, especially after he - Osamu - moved into a small, one-room apartment with you, basically just sticking around and rarely leaving, by now, it was more than just a nightmare.

How long had it been since you last left the apartment? Almost a month now? Osamu took you for a walk once or twice, returning after mere ten minutes and stating it was too dangerous. However, whenever he did leave, he returned bloody and dirty. Frankly, you were too afraid to ask what happened, but the secrecy between you two wasn’t helping in soothing your mind.

In the beginning, you still had been hopeful that the matter would resolve quickly and you could go back to your normal life. But apparently, it just kept dragging on, Osamu only ever stating that it wasn’t over yet. Even your dad stopped responding to your messages, asking if he was okay, by now, and you were nothing but worried about him. Now, you just wondered how many more days you’d have to spend with this guy that you still considered to be a total stranger.

Gripping your blanket tightly, it took you a lot of courage to speak up, but the situation was awkward as it is, there was nothing you could do to mess it up more. “Are you okay?” you asked carefully, hoping you weren’t overstepping your boundaries. His hand stopped, and he glanced back over his shoulder at you, simply staring for a moment before turning back to finish his task.

“Yeah, just a rough night.”

“Then... are you hurt?” you continued, feeling relieved after hearing his casual answer.

“Why? Ya worried about me?” Only being able to see his side profile over his shoulder, you noticed him smile - presumably for the first time ever that you knew him. “I-I mean!” you stuttered, twiddling your thumbs as you felt flustered. It wasn’t actually that bad talking to him; he actually had a hint of a joke in his voice as he spoke with you, even if you only ever perceived him as a mean-looking fellow with a bad career choice.

“It would be bad if something happened and you were injured...”

A soft chuckle fell off his lips, and you presumed he must have been tired if you actually managed to make him laugh. Either that, or you had to admit he wasn’t half as bad as you thought him to be. Closing the fridge - and with it, the only light in the room - you heard him groan as he stood up. However, even if he tried, his footsteps were audible because of his muscular build, especially as they drew closer.

“There’s nothing for you to worry about,” he assured you, plopping down on your bed. “I got it all under control, promise.”

“If you say so...” Pulling in your legs, you made some space, prompting him to lean back, and the smell of blood and dirt made its way to your nose. “So... not your blood?”

There was a certain risk in asking this, but you were awake now and, for the first time, had a conversation with him. “Nope,” he casually admitted, and it brought back some of the fears you first had when he was introduced to you. Mainly that he had already become numb towards violence. “Hey...” Osamu tore you out of your thoughts quickly as he spoke up first, noticing your silence.

“Has anyone been bothering you lately? Talked to some bad eggs on your phone?”

Blinking a few times, you delayed your response, nervously glancing at your phone. It was true that after you had to go undercover, you had quite a few arguments with your boyfriend and friends. They wouldn’t understand why you’d ghost them and avoid their questions about your whereabouts. “Not really?” you mumbled, unsure if he’d be interested in that kind of complaint from you. After all, they were more or less just relationship problems, and you two weren’t close in any way.

“I see,” he curtly replied, silence falling between you two until he sighed, sitting up straight again. “After you fell asleep, there was a guy outside to room. I’m surprised you didn’t hear the knocks, but I guess you were tired for a change.”

Immediately, you tensed up. Worried about the sudden revelation about a visitor, you didn’t even mind his last comment, revealing he had been aware and watching you as you had struggled to sleep the last few weeks in his presence. “W-Who was it?” you questioned, scared of hearing that you had been found out and you’d have to leave soon and hide somewhere else.

“Don’t know him. He got very agitated when he saw me and tried to get into the apartment, but I couldn’t let him, of course.”

Ears peeking up, you almost jumped out of bed as you leaned forward, intrigued by what Osamu was telling you. “And? What happened?” you pushed for a continuation.

“Nothing special. Told him he can’t get in and to leave. But he was one persistent bastard, yelling weird stuff like he was your boyfriend and he loved you and should be able to see you. These things.”

“W-Wait! What do you mean it was my boyfriend? Why didn’t you tell me! I could have confirmed it! I’d really have liked... to see him...”

Shoulders slumping in disappointment, any fear of being found out was now turned into sadness, knowing you had been asleep while a vital piece of your life and of ‘normality’ had been so close. “Ridiculous, as if I could just let anyone come and claim he knew ya,” Osamu grumbled, and the heaviness of your situation returned back to you. Of course, he couldn’t allow the risk of someone hurting you after everything you two went through already.

“He did ask me to give you something, though,” Osamu seemed to suddenly remember, contemplatively. “What is it?” you inquired, hoping that maybe it really had been your boyfriend after all, and perhaps he brought you something to help you through these challenging times.

But instead, you were met with two fingers around your chin, pulling you in closely until you felt Osamu’s breath against your mouth. Much too late did you understand the intention, his lips kissing yours gently yet longingly. You felt an immediate gut-wrenching response, tearing away repulsed by the actions of your guard. Pushing him away, you rubbed off the feeling of his lips on yours with the back of your hand, spluttering, “What are you doing?!” while you tried not to feel sicker as the smell of iron reached your nose.

“Ya know,” Osamu continued, his tone indifferent, but you could hear the smile on his lips. “I’m just repaying my debt to him. There’s no ‘being too safe’, but I guess you really did matter a lot to him. He kept crying and telling me he loved ya.”

“Why didn’t you just wake me up to confirm it then?” By now, you felt the pain of your boyfriend, worried sick about you, and then faced with someone like Osamu as his only clue. “Are you kidding?” was all that the Yakuza responded. Getting up, he stretched audibly.

“I beat him to a pulp and took care of him and his phone with the tracking app.”

What?

“H-How could you...?!” was the only thing you could stutter.

“Yeah, he won’t bother you anymore. I know you two have been fighting lately.”

“Excuse me?”

Walking over to the entrance to the bath, Osamu flipped on the light before looking back at you. Dreadful splatters of blood were all over his face, even more than you had seen before. His knuckles seemed to be straight out of a horror movie, and the black clothes he wore had dark, firm spots on them.

And yet, he smiled at you affectionately.

“As if I’d let anyone put a frown on ya cute face, Babe. Doesn’t matter who, I’ll protect you from anyone trying to get close and hurt you. I told ya, didn’t I? I’ve got everything under control.”

With that, he entered the bath, and you heard the familiar sound of the shower. Confused but mostly worried, you threw back the blanket and hopped out of bed with unsteady feet, racing to the front door. Sliding off the door chain, you pushed the handle, expecting it to open, but it wouldn’t budge.

The faint sound of a chuckle echoed from the bathroom, the walls thin as paper, much to your dismay. You didn’t want to believe it; even more, you wanted to see it. See that what Osamu described didn’t happen to someone so dear to you. You wanted to know that everything was okay. Know that the man you shared this locked apartment with wasn’t some kind of maniac going around killing people on ‘your behalf’.

But when you looked at your phone, you saw a message from your boyfriend, saying he tracked you down and would be coming to get you now. It had been read before you, even replied to, but you didn’t remember ever seeing it or replying to it at all. Especially not when the last message eerily read:

<< Waiting for you (:

[unknownwriting]

Same!! Aside from the top 3 you listed, I generally don’t hate any character. Sure, if I see a bad character, I’d either go “Ehhh, I’m willing to forgive you... to some extent” or just “Nope, I dislike you”. But I don’t immediately think of them (except for those 3) when I go to my mental “hated characters” list. Thanks for answering 😊

Also, guessing request are open since your recent post said so, but the description says it’s closed...? I’m gonna take your word for it, and hopefully don’t offend you 😅

May I request Crocodile, Lucci and Kid with a crush on a fem. reader that’s a hopeless romantic? Just thought the dynamics would be adorable with how their personalities are portrayed >w<

As for what I personally classify as a hopeless romantic... it’s not so much the suaveness or charm. Sure, we love ourselves a gentleman that can remind us chivalry is not dead, but it’s more about finding “the one”. And “the one”, which we’re meant to find (kinda like a soulmate), has got to be able to show their sincerity. You can shower me in gold without the most genuine of feelings behind it, and I’d take one look at you, scowl and walk away. Small actions are weighed more heavily if the feelings behind them are sincere. A paper crane with a sweet note on it? My heart would straight up melt.

Figured it’d be interesting since I can imagine them trying to win her over with their perfectly crafted facade only to have her grimace in response since it’s not entirely genuine. We hopeless romantics are “in love with love” and could love practically anyone, but that’s only if they’re sincere.

ｓｕｍｍａｒｙ- having a crush on a hopeless romantic

ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒｓ - Eustass Kid, Lucci, Crocodile

ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ - none :)

ａ/ｎ - Hopeless Romantic gang rise up 😫✊🏻 also akdjdid omg I totally forgot to even change the request until I saw your request. Thanks so much i hope you enjoy

unedited

Eustass Kid

This man?? Having a crush?? Not in a million years....well it must’ve been a million years because the Captain of the kid pirates has found himself crushing over a common bartender

There is not anything special about you anyways, just a girl around his age who is stubborn, easy to talk to, and cute. He could find someone like her almost anywhere, but the thing that got him was how stubborn she was.

Kid could flirt all day and try and get you to come with him. But you just wouldn’t come, turning him down each time. It was so frustrating, seeing how you didn’t even flinch when Kid spoke but it was also nice. Kid loves a good challenge.

Of course, didn’t stay on the island the whole time, he still had other things to do, but he did come back often to meet up with her. Kid was not gonna let a perfectly good challenge slip away from him. So it’s easy for y’all to quickly become friends with how often Kid comes by and visits you. It only then did Kid finally realize why you kept turning him down: you were a hopeless romantic searching for the one and as far as you were concerned Kid was not it

When you told him that though all he gave you in return was a confused face and a curse word. ‘The fuck is ‘the one’?’ Kid has never heard anything of the sort, and it didn’t come as a surprise either. Kid was a very loud, mean, frustrating guy who probably only slept around.

Now that the 2 of you got closer, you decided that you could at least tell me, explaining why he doesn’t have a chance. Going over what you imagine your soulmate is just gonna be like definitely grossed Kid out, but he still listens trying to use your explanation as a hint

Long story short it didn’t work that much. Kid was farther from the mark each time he tried. At least that’s what you thought, the more time you spent around the red-haired captain the more selected traits would stand out to you. Traits that you told kid yourself.

Although with the fear of finding the wrong one and only wanting Kid because he’s convent to you, you didn’t say a word not even a peep to him. There would be no way to know that he is the one he’s so different then what you thought. With doubt still sitting in the back of your mind, you decided to keep quiet for now. It wouldn’t be bad to just enjoy his company for a while

Crocodile

LMAOO AJSJSJD I KINDA FORGOT CROCODILE’S PERSONALLY WAS ALREADY TO FAR IN. I’m so sorry but I hope you still enjoy

As soon as Crocodile had laid his eyes on you, he knew exactly what type of person you were a troublesome girl who is still obsessed with finding the one, your soulmate.

He tries his best to stay away from people like you, but it’s hard to do that when your working for him. However he still tried his best to stay away, but then you just always appeared where he would be. You failed the realize it but Crocodile definitely noticed it and just couldn’t stop thinking about it.

From there on out he kept looking at you where ever he went, wondering when and if you would show up. That’s when he finally realized, he has a crush.

It took him a while to approach you and to even get you to talk, but once he was able to, he constantly, being subtle about it, tried to when you over with small gestures of romance.

Which of none has even persuaded you. You had the idea of falling in love with your soulmate. Crocodile can spoil you as much as he wants but that won’t change your mind.

Although the gift he did give you was sweet, somewhat unexpected. Some days it might be a rose, others it might be bracelets, other days it might be a bag of money. Half of the time you thought it was whatever he had on him at the moment.

Aside from gifts he also let a lot of paperwork side which was probably the best thing he could’ve done. But you still did them all, although he was acting very out of character and being unbelievably kind, there was no way you were to gonna take advantage of him.

It frustrated him, it really did. The fact that you didn’t even budge but at the same time he found it very admirable. Having such a strong will and not settling for anything better than your soul mate. It’s a nice challenge that he would definitely accept.

Rob Lucci

Each one of these men loves a good challenge. It’s just a known fact. So when Lucci learned that he was getting a new member on his team he treated her the same way he treated everyone: cold yet with respect. However, he failed to notice just the type of girl you were.

Talkative. Talking to everyone about anything. It’s doesn’t matter who it was you always found a way to talk to them. Whether it was Lucci or Kaku or just some random worker. You always found a way to talk

That was the first challenge. Just getting you to shut up, whether it was by intimation or if it was force, whatever it was, that was his first challenge what came next he has no intention of. You were....actually nice to talk to.

when you were rambling now Lucci could feel his expression loosely and a small, very small smile on his lips. You seemed to be a kinda nice person to talk to and Lucci doesn’t mind you. Maybe you were even nice enough to have a crush on. 

With Lucci’s newfound crush, he had no idea what to even do. Besides a few nightstands, the man has never really been considered with the idea. and to make matters worse, he overheard you talking about ‘the one’ as if he was supposed to know what that means. After asking around a bit he was able to figure it out and concluded that he wasn’t it.

Although he wasn’t ’the one’, what’s a challenge if you don’t at least try. So starting with the first thing he could think of he slowly began to participate in the conversation with you. It was awkward and weird but you thought it was cute in his own little way. At least he was trying.

Surprisingly it didn’t take long for the 2 of y’all to warm up to each other. From there, Lucci was able to learn more about you and just how to win you over. He wasn’t as bold as the other 2 but he did try his best to make it noticeable.

You were definitely quick to catch on to his change and to what he was doing but being strong-willed and all you continued to turn him down. Lucci just wasn’t your type and you felt bad for telling him that but it was true. However, Lucci is not gonna give up on you that easily. Once Lucci accepts and challenges there’s no going back

[pineapple-lover-boy]

Poly!Fuyuhiko x Reader x Nagito

Request: “I saw you do Danganronpa and idk if this is ok or not but can you do a poly hcs with Fuyuhiko,Magito, and reader???”

Fuyuhiko x Reader x Nagito

A/N: Never thought I wanted this pairing until now lol. Btw with poly ships I don’t it where two+ people are sharing one person. Usually everyone is is with everyone. If you want to request a poly where the reader or someone else is the main focus of the relationship than please be specific.

Warnings: non-despair AU, some non explicit nsfw content at the end

The Beginning:

The only way this relationship started was through you

Both had rather large crushes on you but neither wanted to admit it

Fuyuhiko was the definition of a tsundere

Nagito believed you were too good for him

It was clear how they liked you though

Both treated you better than the rest, albeit reluctantly

You had to make the first move

Of course, confessing to both at the same time wouldn’t be helpful as they weren’t exactly friendly with each other

It would be idiotic to do that

But you were a dumbass said with affection

And here you were

Both we’re definitely confused as to why you brought them to a park right out side of school

What business would you have with the both of them?

When you confessed it came out as a jumbled mess:

“ListenIknowthisiscomingoutofknowherebutilikeyoutwothebothofyoupleaseacceptmyconfession!”

It was just too awkward confessing to the two most emotionally closed off people in your class

Fuyuhiko did not catch what you said and just gave you a weird look

Nagito did

And he giggled

He fucking giggled

“I’m flattered, Y/N, but you have no reason to be with someone as worthless as me. Fuyuhiko would be much better for you.”

“W-what?!”

Now Fuyuhiko was really confused

Nagito turned to Fuyuhiko, “Didn’t you hear her? She confessed to us. I don’t know why she’d want to confess her love to someo-”

You quickly interrupted him before he could continue self loathing, “I know this seems weird. I was surprised when I found out I liked you both too. I figured if I confessed to you two together it would be easier to accept your rejection, or least one of you liking me back. It doesn’t sound as good as I thought it was at the moment but if neither of you like me could we just carry on our day like nothing happened.”

They both stood silent before Fuyuhiko spoke up, “Who said I didn’t like you?”

He whispered with a raging blush on his face

“Yeah, and who said I didn’t like you either?”

Fuyuhiko’s and your face shot up to look at Nagito

“So what do we do now?” You asked

You would have never thought that your crush would be reciprocated twice

Your question was never answered though and all you got was silence

Soon after they two left and after moping for a bit, you did too

What you didn’t know was that they left to have their own private conversation

They wanted to make you happy and if being in a polyamorous relationship was gonna do it than so be it

The Relationship:

It wasn’t clear to you whether or not they accepted your confession until the next day

They would walk you to your classes, sit with you during lunch, and basically just be with your for as much of the day as they could

You may be wondering when their own feelings would surface for each other

That comes at least a few months into the relationship when your all comfortable with each other

You’d notice how Nagito would fuss over Fuyuhiko getting an injury, not even thinking to blame himself in the moment

Fuyuhiko would often talk some sense into Nagito when he later would try to blame his luck

Unlike his usual way of talking, he would try to be a bit softer with Nagito

He knew that being harsh would only make things worse

Let’s go on to the more domestic part of the relationship

Cuddles?

Yes.

It would take some time for both to warm up to the idea but after the first time they’ll start asking for more

Nagito’a the little spoon, you’re in the middle, and Fuyuhiko is the biggest spoon

If Nagito wants to be the big spoon then he’ll have to compromise with Fuyuhiko by being in the middle

If it’s night time when Fuyuhiko’s sleeping and you both wanna change it up?

Let’s hope that Nagito’s luck will help the both of you

It usually does

Fuyuhiko isn’t a heavy sleeper but he isn’t a light one either

You’d have to be careful

Imagine Fuyuhiko’s horror when he realizes either you or Nagito is being his big spoon

If it’s you he’ll just get annoyed

If it’s Nagito, he’ll start to feel his manliness get threatened

Bitch what??

He’ll try to push the skinny boy off but if he doesn’t relent or starts shaming himself for even thinking of it then Fuyuhiko will easily stop, get comfy again, and just grumble into your hair as he holds you tighter

No one can come after you

You got bullied? Fucking obliterated by Peko best girl no one can change my mind

Someone is being petty towards you? Nagito’s pettier

Once a kid bumped into you really hard, where you fell, but didn’t say sorry or help you up

Nagito was there and destroyed them with his words

They felt like pissing themselves and a terrible human being

Fuyuhiko got really angry when hearing about it later

You and Nagito just put your heads on each of his shoulders and your arms around his waist he stopped

He just froze and calm down

Think of Lilo putting the flowers on Stitch

That was him with you guys

In the bedroom (nothing too explicit unless requested):

Fuyuhiko wants to be the dom

Really really wants to and thinks that you and Nagito will submit to him

But, oh how he was wrong

Nagito is the true dom

He wants you and Fuyuhiko to be happy with him so if he’s asked he’ll be the bottom

But when he slammed Fuyuhiko down onto the bed and started talking dirty to him-

You? Weak in the knees and begging for him to do the same to you

Fuyuhiko? Red in the face and if Nagito starts playing around with him he’ll start whimpering

Nights like those where Nagito goes full dom only happens every so often

Fuyuhiko needs his manly boost so he dons most of the time

He’ll mostly be trying to pleasure you both at the same time without short circuiting is own brain

He doesn’t talk too much except for some comments here or there

When he’s had a rough day he’ll be the opposite though

Degradation master

If it’s more of a romantic evening though he’ll be lighter with how he speaks

Aftercare is the best

Depending on who was the top that day, they’ll be the ones taking care of the rest

Fuyuhiko rests for a bit before getting up and cleaning everything

He gets water for the both of you and either leaves if he has business or falls asleep

Nagito will do the same except

You guessed it:

✨self loathing✨

Then it becomes aftercare for him as he talks about how he doesn’t deserve you both and how your too good for him

You get the idea

Just pull him down and either cuddle him or kiss him to shut him up

Overall:

It’s a fight for who’s the man in the relationship with Fuyuhiko and Nagito

If your a man or not, doesn’t matter

They see you as someone they want to love and protect

But no matter what, this relationship is about cooperation and self love seriously Nagito

I hope this was good! If you wanted something specific about the relationship please request again. I’d be happy to write some more about them!

[kiirokero]

Outro: Love is Not Over (14)

Pairing: Daycare Teacher! Hoseok x Single Mom! Reader.

Genre: Single Parent! AU, Teacher! AU, Hybrid! AU, Fluff, Angst, Adorable Kids,

Warnings: Swearing, if that needs a warning

Word Count: 2.8K

Note: AFK :’) Oh my god please don’t let this suck in the morning 

Summary: Years after a relationship goes south. You are the single mother of a beautiful 6-year-old golden retriever hybrid who you named Yunho. He is the light of your life. Yunho is everything to you, and you’d do anything for him. But you’re a human. Yunho doesn’t care, he will tell you he doesn’t. “You’re still my Eomma. No matter what.” He says. But you can’t help but feel like you will never be enough for him. You can’t be the mother he deserves. You can’t show him the ropes of being a hybrid, and you can’t teach him things the other moms can. But you try. You try your damn hardest. So, when a handsome German Shepard hybrid comes into your life, helping you and guiding Yunho in a way you can’t, you can’t help the cozy home he sets up in your heart.

Chapter Guide:

Previous / Next

Masterlist

It had rained the previous night.

    Nothing drastic, but it was enough to make the forest around me and Hoseok dewy. Occasionally, a spare raindrop would fall from the leaves above onto Hoseok's head and he’d squeak in surprise, looking up at the culprit tree with a pout and lowered ears. Every time. It was endearing. The way his eyes lit up at any pretty flower we would pass, how he smiled so widely when he put one of them behind my ear, how he vowed to protect me from any scary creatures that lurked in the forest. (If I was being honest, Hoseok was the only one worried about that)

    I came here because I sorted out my feelings and was ready to let them spill, but now I’m second guessing myself. If perfect didn’t exist, then why is Jung Hoseok here? Why is he by my side, rambling about the “macaroni art disaster” that happened last Tuesday, and why am I listening with a smile on my face? Why is he here with me? I spent years chasing after a “perfect life” with a man who didn’t give two shits about me, just to have perfection on legs waltz into my life and wiggle into the heart of not only me, but my son too.

   I was a broken mirror. Still functional, aesthetic, and usable, but compared to the crystal chandelier that was Hoseok, I was nothing but that annoying piece of glitter that’s follows people around since their arts and crafts day at Kindergarten. Why would the crystal want the glass when the crystal is pure perfection?

    Jung Hoseok shattered the image of perfect I had in my head and replaced it with a prettier one. Perfection used to be having a nice house, a nice family, living a debt free life. Perfection was the expectations forced upon me by my family at a young age, and I rolled with it out of fear of disappointment. Then Jung Hoseok showed up with his pretty brown eyes and lovable personality and rocked the boat saying,

“Perfection isn’t perfect. Perfection is what makes you happy.”

   Perfection is what makes you happy, and god did Jung Hoseok make me the happiest I’ve been in years. I wanted to bottle that happiness up and cuddle it to sleep. Every single second he was with me I was happy, and I used to hate it. Now I can’t imagine my life without it...

  “Hoseok, when I asked if you could watch Yunho, I wasn’t expecting to come home to this.” I chuckled. Both Hoseok and Yunho looked like deer caught in headlights, but I could see the small itch of a smile on Hoseok’s face. “But Eomma! I had a sore throat,” Yunho whined, his lips stained blue and his face was slowly turning red.

   “And popsicles cure sore throats?” I asked playfully. I wasn’t mad, no, because I knew that even if Yunho ate popsicles now, he’d still scarf down his dinner. No problem. “...Mr. Hoseok said it would,” Yuhno snitched.

   Hoseok gasped in faux offense, getting a giggle out of the younger hybrid. “I feel betrayed!” He said in an overly dramatic voice, causing Yunho to laugh harder. I couldn’t help but laugh along with them

Perfection isn’t perfect. Perfection is what makes you happy.

   “Did he fall asleep?” Hoseok asked, looking down at Yunho who was currently lost in dreamland, drooling on my shoulder. “Mhm, I guess all that playing at the park tired him out,” I chuckled, kissing Yunho on the cheek, making sure not to jostle him too much. 

  Hoseok looked at us fondly, the slightest of smiles on his face. “What?” I asked with a smile of my own. Hoseok merely shrugged, “The two of you are cute, that’s all,” He said, looking down to kick a rock that was on the sidewalk. I blushed, holding Yunho just a tad bit tighter. “Thank you,” I said. Hoseok looked back at me. 

“You’re a wonderful mom,”

“I like to think so,”

It’s what makes you happy...

   “I can go. You don’t have to feel like you need to keep me here,” Hoseok offered gently. The moonlight that shone through the drawn curtains of the living room illuminated his warm features perfectly. The slope of his nose, the curve of his eyes, the upturn of his smile. I wonder what Michelangelo was thinking when he sculpted Hoseok. Probably something in Italian. 

   I grabbed his hand, dragging him back to the couch. “No, you can stay. If you want to, of course... I’d like to chill with you,” I said with somewhat trembling hands and an erratic heart. “You would?” He asked, stars painted in his eyes. I nodded, sitting down on the couch. Hoseok immediately took the space beside me, one of his arms on the back of the couch behind me and the other on his lap. 

  Hoseok sighed, “Adult time,” He joked. “I’m a single mother. My ‘adult time’ is my nap time,” I chuckled, sinking down into the cushions. “Hmm, well, if that’s the case, should we put on a movie until you fall asleep?” He suggested, one of his brows raised. “What about you, though? Leaving you to explore my own dreamland is a bit rude, don’t you think?” I asked, raising my brow as well. 

   “Then let me ask a followup question. Is it okay if I crash on your couch for the night?” He asked cheekily, as if he knew that I couldn’t refuse him. “Hm, I guess,” I sighed sarcastically. I was unable to hide my smile though. “Great!” Hoseok exclaimed, taking the blanket that laid next to him and draping it over us, snuggling up to me. “Is this okay?” He asked. 

“Y-yeah... This is okay,”

The pancakes I made in the morning with a giggly Yunho and a smiling Hoseok tasted sweeter than normal. 

Perfection isn’t perfect. Perfection is what makes you happy. 

And I hoped I could be selfish just for today to secure my happiness for tomorrow. 

   “Y/n, are you okay? Earth to Y/n~” Hoseok called in a singsong voice, poking one of my arms, dragging me out of my flashbacks. Startled, I nodded with a hum, nervously twiddling with my fingers. “Mhm,” Hoseok chuckled, “We’re here.” I looked at our surroundings, realizing that I left Hoseok in awkward silence all the way through the trail. (It wasn’t awkward, Hoseok thought it was comfortable)

   I gasped, “O-Oh! Oh... we are,” Hoseok smiled, grabbing my hand and leading me off the trail into a small clearing of vibrant green grass and small white daisies. He put down the basket he had in his hand and pulled out a cliche red checkered picnic blanket. “Cheeseball,” I giggled. Hoseok stuck his tongue out at me playfully, obviously proud of his blanket choices. He laid it out on the grass, making sure it was prim and proper before turning to me with a beaming smile, encouraging me to sit down. 

   I did as he silently asked and sat down on the blanket, thankful to give my legs a break. It was soft, I noticed, perfect for taking a nap in the afternoon sun. Hoseok plopped down next to me, his tail furiously wagging back and forth as he pulled out various different food containers from the basket. “So, I may have gone a bit... Overboard... But I just wanted to make you at least one thing that you’d liked.” He smiled, unashamed of his actions and more satisfied, like he was overachieving on a school project. “Hoseok, I’m sure I’d call your PB&J’s gourmet,” I chuckled, taking a hold of the chopsticks he was offering me. 

  Hoseok laughed along, opening the first container and placing it in between us. It looked like Kkakdugi. “What if we taste test each dish and decide on our favorites? Then we can eat those,” He suggested, and I nodded along. I’d honestly go along with anything he’d say. Hoseok picked up a piece of radish, holding it up to my lips. I leaned away for a second, cocking a brow. “Here,” He said, pressing the food to my lips again. I relented and let him feed me the radish. 

  I sighed, closing my eyes and basking in the sweet and slightly spicy taste. “If everything is this good, I’m going to have to hibernate for a year after this,” I said, somewhat seriously, somewhat jokingly. Hoseok laughed, falling back onto the blanket in a fit of giggles. “We’d better get on it then,” He said. 

“Not to be mean, but how do you burn kimchi?”

   Hoseok covered his face in embarrassment, rolling on his side so he didn’t have to look at my teasing smile. “I don’t know! I mean, maybe the burnt taste was something else,” He argued back with a pout. We were currently full and happy, laid on our back and looking up at the orange sky, pointing out oddly shaped clouds. And talking about how Hoseok managed to burn Baechu-Kimchi.

Also, avoiding the entire reason I asked Hoseok to hang out with me today...

   It was hard! No matter how many times I practiced in the mirror the previous or hyped myself up in my head, he would smile or laugh or say something in that sultry voice of his, and my mind would blank. I was fighting with the mini Hyejin on my shoulder that was acting like a furious grandmother, constantly pulling at my ear and saying, “Dumb dumb, just spill it,” 

   “Hey, are you okay?” Hoseok spoke up suddenly. I turned my head towards him, catching his pretty brown eyes immediately. His soft brunette was falling over his face gently, occasionally moving whenever the breeze blew through. “W-What?” I asked, shaking myself out of whatever trance he manages to put me in whenever we lock eyes. 

   Hoseok chuckled, his dark brown ears twitching slightly when a leaf landed on one of them. “You’ve been out of it a lot today. Also, I can tell you're anxious,” He said, “What’s bothering you, buttercup?” He asked, and I felt my ears heat up at the pet name. Stupid Y/n just speak words, you’re literally a journalist. “Um, I just have some things on my mind,” If this were a drama, and I happened to be the main character, fans of the show would probably be screaming at their tv screens right now. 

    “Do you want to talk about it?” Hoseok asked. “I should, I really should,” I sighed. I could tell my words confused Hoseok, but he left a space for me to speak nonetheless, giving me a smile of encouragement. Just say something, anything. Alright, okay. 1... 2... 3... Go! “I wish I met you 6 years ago,” I blurted out, backtracking once I realized what I said. “No... 5 years ago, cause then I’d still have Yunho,” 

Hoseok giggled slightly. “And why’s that?” 

“Because then life wouldn’t have been as hard...” I answered honestly

   Hoseok had a baffled look on his face. I looked back up at the sky, distracting myself with the pretty formations of clouds and let my subconscience do the work and talk, finally letting it all out. Hoseok’s ears stood at attention when I opened my mouth again. “It's always been Yunho and I... Him and I against the world.” I started.

“Like his cartoon?” Hoseok asked. 

“Like his cartoon,” I smiled. 

   I took a deep breath. “It’s obvious that my last relationship didn’t end well, and that it still effects me to this day... I remember even swearing to myself that I would never fall in love again, but then... This Jung Hoseok dude came along,” I snickered, pretending I was alone and this was another practice run. It made things easier. Hoseok stayed silent. “He came along with his handsome face, warm smile and amazing personality. God, he even made me jealous sometimes...” 

“I’m sure there’s no reason to be jealous.”

   “Oh, but there is. He’s amazing, absolutely amazing. Not just because he memorizes all my favorites or makes it his mission to make me smile, but because he’s amazing with my kid. He’s amazing with my kid in a way that I can’t be.” I stressed. 

“What do you-” 

   “Human mom and hybrid son, I mean, those are total opposites,” I joked, cutting Hoseok off. “Often times I would second guess myself as a mother and worry if I was teaching Yunho the right things but then Jung Hoseok came in and eased my worries. He took Yunho under his wing and the both of us couldn’t be happier,” I rambled, unaware of the blinding smile Hoseok was shooting at me. “We both don’t know what we would do if he drifted away one day,”

“He won’t”

   I finally gathered the courage to look at him. If the stars were in his eyes before, then andromeda was in them now. His dimpled smile and wrinkled eyes melted my heart. “Yeah, that’s why I’m saying all this in hopes that he’s picking up what I’m putting down,” I mumbled. “What are you putting down?” He asked. “That Jung Hoseok stole my heart and I’m not mad about it.”

   Hoseok suddenly stood up, reaching his hand down to offer me help up. I quirked a brow. But Hoseok eased my worries with a simple “Trust me,” I put my hand in his, and he enthusiastically pulled me up, causing me to fall into his chest. He steadied me with his hands on my waist, and I looked up at him, still confused. “I wasn’t done, ya know,” I pouted. “Well then, continue,” He chuckled. 

“I was saying that Jung Hoseok should know about my insecurities and emotional baggage that he would have to deal with if he wanted to be with me,”

“It’s not ‘dealing with it’ It’s accepting your flaws as a part of you, and I love every part of you,” Hoseok said, leaning closer into me. 

“Love?”

“Mhm, that’s what I said.”

   Hoseok leaned in even closer until we pressed our foreheads together. Neither of us said anything, we just looked into each other's eyes, comfortably this time, with nothing but the forest ambiance to break the silence. “I’m telling you, Jung, there is a lot of baggage,” I sighed somberly. “And I’m willing to help you cope with it,” He said. “I have a kid, Jung,” I pointed out, subconsciously trying to find any deal breaker now rather than later.

   “I know, and he’s adorable.” He smiled. “That doesn’t make you feel weird?” I asked. Hoseok shook his head. “Not at all. When I said every part of you, I meant it Y/n,” He stressed, bring up one of his hands to cup my face. “You’re so nice it’s annoying sometime,” I joked, leaning into his touch. Hoseok merely laughed. 

I don’t know how it happened.

Or why I didn’t realize it. 

    Slowly but surely, we leaned in, looking each other in the eye until mine closed. I felt Hoseok’s soft lips on my own only moments after. It was like breathing for the first time. The feeling that erupted in my chest was addictive. I could already tell that much. If I was freezing, this kiss would warm me up. If I was hurt, this kiss was like ice on a wound. This kiss was pure relief. Relief that I finally spoke up, relief that I didn’t chicken out. 

Relief that I could finally be happy.

   Hoseok’s lips were like saccharine marshmallows created by the gentlest of deities. The heart shape of them fit perfectly against my own, like our lips were lost puzzle pieces needed to create the perfect picture of happiness. His earthy forest scent filled my nose. It used to be calming. Now it was downright hypnotic. His hands felt like warm embers against my skin, surrounding me in a shroud of warmth and comfort.

   I gripped my hands in his coat, pulling him even closer than he already was. I wanted to feel nothing but his warm embrace. I felt his lips curve into a smile as he kissed me deeper, bringing me farther into his trance. My knees were on the verge of buckling, but I willed them to stay still so I could savor this moment just a bit longer. Just a bit more. 

   Hoseok pulls away slightly to let out a sigh that hit my red lips. We were still pressed close. The slightest of breezes could blow me over and his soft lips would be on mine again. “Look at what you do to me,” Hoseok whispered, looking me in my eyes with his lidded ones that were filled with adoration. I was confused for a minute before I felt something soft hit my leg. I looked down, holding back a giggle when I saw Hoseok’s tail swinging madly, faster than I’ve seen it go before. 

“I’m happy too,”

“You knew I had a crush on you, didn’t you?”

“I mean, I'm a hybrid so I can smell it...”

“Embarrassment can’t begin to describe how I feel,”

“Aww but it was cute.”

Tag List: @kurochan3 @mrcleanheichou @anonymous-armys-blog @bella-raina @purelyecstacy @lindsayjoy444  @unicornbabylover @xicanacorpse @creatorspalace @thesweetest-peas​ @fangirl125reader​ 

© KiiroKero

[jjkpls]

the wishlist (m) - 4

“What does it mean if a guy talks about your nipples?”

> genre : smut, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> total words : 4.7k

> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, lot of pining; sextoys talk; explicit language; ambiguous infidelity ; awkwardness

previous - next

The issue is that Jungkook -and you're not a bitch for thinking that- is a little bit of an idiot.

He can be very smart. He can be wise and present unsuspecting resources and knowledge. He can teach you things you don't know anything about, figure out others you struggle to -but not during stressful times like for say an escape game because during those, he turns absolutely, utterly useless. 

But he is an idiot too. An idiot that sometimes shapes situations and conclusions and ideas in a very peculiar way that is very singular to him.

That’s precisely what happens then. He plays his role right, to its full extent, with great dedication and commitment. Except he missed a memo, misread the script and ends up playing a role that's not the one you planned for him. He believes that he’s your new adult toy provider (as if there is such a thing).

When you think he’s coming over to share a meal or play some game or binge-watch a series you promised to wait for him to experience together, he has a box hidden in his pocket or carried under his arm. 

He has the decency to not comment on it the first time around. He just set it down on the coffee table, between the bowl of chips and the one filled with guacamole. You see the logo on top of it. You recognize the design, reffined, minimalist with the pretty pastel matte colour. 

He probably identifies the shame and the annoyance on your face, painting your cheeks and reshaping your eyebrows, and doesn’t say anything. Simply smiles to himself and starts talking about the series’ new episode that’s about to start. 

It takes a lot of efforts, coming from you, to ignore the conspicuous object sitting just in front and in between you. But eventually, probably because more than a decade of friendship with this guy have grown impressive mind muscles on you, you manage to make abstraction of it. 

It just stops existing for a while until he leaves and you’re curious to see what’s inside. And again you have the same old intentions as before. The same ones.

You won’t use it. 

It’s curiosity. And it's fine for you to be curious because he’s the one buying it and gifting it to you. Why should you be blamed?

Freshly hopped in bed, just done reading the notice hanging over your face, you’re yawning and sending your eyebrows high in interest. Again you won’t use it but it sounds very interesting. That’s when you get a text from him.

Guk

So about the toy!

As if you were waiting for his explanation. As if the conversation got cut short and you were expecting him to pick it back up whenever possible.

You won’t entertain him.

You

I said not to buy me this.

Guk

You never said that! You said something about me being crazy but never about buying one again

Because you're mostly made of petty bitch material, you scroll higher quickly, wishing to find something, any text that would corroborate what you’re saying.

You don’t find anything though. Because you never actually told him to not buy you other toys by text, and now that you come to think of it, you probably never did out loud either because you didn’t fucking know that he would even consider doing so.

It’s not even Christmas anymore. It’s not your birthday. There’s even less of a valid reason for him to get you this therefore, of course, you did not explicitly warn him not to, you didn’t think it would be necessary.

You

It’s not even my fucking bday why???

Guk

I told you the lady at the shop

But who the hell is that lady?

Guk

She talked about a lot of products and they all seemed cool and because you liked the other one I thought I’d get you this one too

You

Jungkook

This simple response says a lot, you hope he can read between the pixels of his screen the desperation, the irritation, the frustration, the silent insults. 

Guk

Listen it’s super cool it's supposed to mimic the touch of a finger

Jungkook then proceeds to explain to you how it works. The original idea being a system with a tiny ball rolling under a silicon skin, to place on your clitoris to have the illusion of a finger's touch. And it’s interesting and innovative surely and sounds intriguing as in, you wonder if it’s accurate, but you’re tired and it seems like you’re wading in some sort of swamp you can’t escape from. There’s a fire burning your skin from your cheeks to your chest. You’re both hating this conversation and unwilling to just draw a final period to it. This asshole.

You

I can read

Guk

So you opened it already??

There’s a bunch of excited emojis that follows his last message and fill up the empty space your lack of response leaves. 

Why and how can he be so eager?

Here comes the delusional part of your brain. It’s a very wide, very deep hallway covered in bookshelves filled to the brim with stupid interpretations and beliefs and sometimes even memories you’ve shared with him. Often next to the laters are pinned an article from a teenage magazine or the jacket of a romance movie, specifically there to validate that yes, indeed, it must have meant something. 

The door of that corridor just creaked opened. You can discern the sound, you can feel the particular atmosphere without even having to take a step through. 

Is it really that normal to be so excited about that? For him? As a friend?

It’s the most frustrating part: you are friends. Friends who supposedly can tell each other everything. Friends who can ask each other anything. 

You should be able to talk about it. Just ask him. If there’s anything behind this whole mess, if he means to tell you something, if it’s wholly mindless, if there’s no hidden agenda.

It should be fine. There’s only trust and affection in this friendship. 

You are still too scared, you are terrified that he’d start linking dots, ask himself some new questions, potentially answer them himself, and have you all found out.

You'd have your barely well-worn cover thrown completely away. 

You send the blank emoji. The one with even the eyes closed. It summarizes your actual state pretty well, speechless, relatively annoyed. 

Guk

She said you could try it on other parts of your body too

Guk

At first

Guk

Like on your lips or your nipples

You want to die.

Now.

No, better, you wish to have never been born. 

Why is he talking about your nipples? Why?

And through all that, you still feel like something is wrong with you, along with your feelings. 

Turns out you are so overwhelmed by his clueless inadequacy, you need a good half an hour and a random shot of tequila to get through it. When it’s gone and exhaustion of a long day and alcohol have knocked nervousness and panic out, you fall asleep, forgetting about answering his outrageous last texts. 

“What does it mean if a guy talks about your nipples?”

Min's finger stops midair, above the cash register she's been working on. She needs a good minute to get back to her senses and while you wait, anxiety invades you. Maybe you should never have brought it up. 

But this question, the torturous thing is slowly killing you.

Min finally turns her head to you, eyes squinted and eyebrows drawn low. She sucks in her pretty red lips before opening them to start formulating, with it seems a certain struggle, an answer. 

“I don’t think I quite understand.”

It’s a pretty straightforward, relatively easy question. That’s what you'd want to say but you’ve reached the state of bashful regret and decide not to press it. Some things are better just left alone. 

“Who talked about your nipples?” She ends up asking the one thing you wished she wouldn’t because there is no way you’re giving his name. 

“Doesn’t matter.” You mumble, turning around slightly, getting back to the task you were here, paid, to do -wipe the shelves clean and not talk about your “““love””” life. 

“I think it does. You wanna know if it means something? Like the guy's into you?”

“Something like that.” Your cheeks are aflame now. No doubt about it. You silently curse at your manager who refuses that you don’t wear the ugly hat that holds your hair back because having a curtain of hair to hold behind, as a help to keep some of your remained, sparse dignity would have been peachy. 

“What did he say exactly?”

Silence. You’re not elaborating. She sighs, defeated. 

“Well, I suppose... he’s considered the fact that you have boobs. If it’s a straight guy, that’s a good sign, I guess?” She shrugs.

You don’t like the answer. It’s exactly what the wrong, defective part of your brain, the one directly wired to your heart, wanted to hear. 

She doesn’t even have the context, anyway. It doesn’t mean much, doesn’t hold much power in your court of sensibility. 

She stares at the side of your face, clearly attempting to drill holes in your head to try and find some answers. You’re awfully silent, have said too much yet not enough and she’s dying to know the whole story. You won’t give in and she can tell. There’s no way you’re sharing the whole thing. The most, probably, probative point of the whole story: the sex toys. It’d turn her into a devastating tsunami of nonsense and misinterpretation and drown you in its wake and you can’t, when you’re already struggling to stay afloat, allow that.

Tag list: @fangirls94 @realswimshaddy @safi4x @pnkd @somewhereinthestarss @kpopfandomftw @kai-kai-bookshelf @pasteljoonie @ggukkieland

A/N: Don’t forget to click on the next button on top, two parts are being posted simultaneously :)

[waatermelon-sugaar]

Take Care of Me

Pairing = Santiago x reader

Words = 5.5k

Summary = A discussion about sex toys turns into something more … concrete

Warnings = Swearing, talk/description of mild anxiety. SMUT (18+ only), use of handcuffs in a sexy way, oral, piv sex

A/N = Prompt no.8 requested by @itspdameronthings​ as part of my 300 follower celebration, thanks so much, hope you like it! Prompt was “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself” w/santi and bolded in text. Also 3 things; 1 = Tom doesn’t exist in this AU, 2 = this is basically pure smut im so sorry, and 3 = I did do head hopping in this, which I know you’re not like supposed to do but also fuck the rules y’know?

Posted to AO3

Masterlist

***

It’s always easy to be loose after one of Benny’s fights.

It’s a heady mix of adrenaline, beer and testosterone, swirling together into a mix that makes you forget your normal boundaries. You’re normally quite brazen about your sex life anyway, but there is a line. You respect your partners, and there’s no need for your teammates to know too much.  

You’re all packed into a half-moon booth, Benny straddling a chair that he pulled up to the table after he spent too long chatting up the bartender.

It’s a small comment from Benny (because of course it’s Benny), saying that you haven’t got laid in a while, and you’re honestly surprised he noticed. But then, that’s the only predictable thing about Benny, that he is unpredictable.

Your surprise means you take a little too long actually thinking about it, which confirms Benny’s statement. You lean back a little in your seat, desperately ignoring Santi, who’s sat to your left. It also means you bite back a little harder in defence.

“Well maybe if you guys didn’t look like you’re about to murder anyone who even dares ask for my number maybe I’d have better luck.” That’s a lie, but there’s no way you’re going to tell them the truth. No way you’re going to tell Santi-

Your thoughts are interrupted by Will, sat to your right. “So you’re asking for our help?”

You scoff, hitting him up the head. “No, thank you.” Will knows why. Because of course he does. One of your oldest friends, he’d been the one who convinced you to join the team in the first place. “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself.”

You send a wink down to the table to Benny, who’s the first to catch on, hollering, and you try not to react to Santi leaning forward, suddenly interested, as though you’re not already hyper-aware of every body movement of his.

You continue, deciding you’re quite enjoying the effect you’ve had. “What do I need some stranger for when I can give myself a better orgasm than he could ever dream of?” You take a sip of your drink to hide your grin, as both Benny and Will holler, gaining a few glares from the pub’s other patrons.

That sip means you’re unprepared for Santi to lean in closer to you, his lips so close to your ear that you can feel his breath. “Maybe ‘stranger’ is where you’re going wrong.”

You swallow, unprepared for the sudden flare of attraction shooting through you and turning your head, just as he says, “I could take care of you.”

You catch a glimpse of Santi’s fuck me eyes when Benny (the dickhead) interrupts. Crossing his arms on the sticky table in front of him, he asks, “Does that mean you have toys?”

Frankie’s hat somehow tips lower on his head, if that’s possible.

Will twitches towards his brother, like he wants to strangle Benny for being so uncouth, but you put your hand on his upper arm. “Of course.” The best course of action is to just act like this is normal, so add a bit of air to your voice. This was normal. “Who doesn’t?”

There’s a blush rising on Benny’s cheeks and you can’t help but stoke it, grinning at him, and attempting your best bedroom eyes. He’s still not too ashamed to ask though. “What kinds?”

Will decides he’s had enough, glancing at Santi behind you with a frown and hitting Benny over the head in an imitation of the way you’d hit him. You laugh, unexpectedly pleased at the reaction you’ve gotten. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Benny nods, eager, even as Will stands, grabbing a hold of him, and steering him towards the bar. “Yes! Yes I would!” He manages to throw back at you and you laugh again, twisting your body to face Santi and Frankie, bringing your left leg onto the bench.

***

Meanwhile Santiago is in hell. He’s been in multiple hellish situations before, most similar to this one, in that it was always the 5 of you, bullets flying around your heads, rifles in your arms, weighed down by heat and sweat and tac vests.

And yet somehow, he thinks this might be the worst. Your foot next to his thigh, your knee bent, pulling your jeans up your leg and exposing your ankle to him. Watching you flirt with Benny, talking about sex, and toys, and masturbation. When that's all he wants to do with you. He just has to get the courage to tell you.

With you, there was a before in Santi’s life, and an after.

Before he knew you; and after he knew you.

Before he loved you; and after he loved you.

Except Santi’s not quite sure when he fell in love with you.

It started when Will introduced you as the newest member of the team, one of his childhood friends. He didn’t mean for it to happen, he treated you like he treated anyone else, quickly discovering that you weren’t like anyone else.

He welcomed you into his life with open arms, starting off innocently - he wanted to spend time with you. You were Will’s friend, which meant that there must be something good about you. You made him laugh, made him feel safe (even when he wasn’t). He’d wanted to do the same for you and thought he did a pretty good job.

He became your friend, until one day the two of you were watching a film. He can’t remember what it was, just that you were at his house, drinking and laughing and talking, huddled in one of his blankets, and looking like you belonged there, forever.

Falling in love with you was so easy, Santi didn’t even realise he was doing it.

Santi’s still impressed with himself that he didn’t just blurt out the words then and there. I love you.

How long had he been in love with you for? He couldn’t pinpoint down a specific moment. He remembered the night when you’d become friends - the last two around the bonfire, toasting marshmallows, making that awkward small-talk that occurs between acquaintances.

You’d made him laugh, playing chubby-bunny and teasing him until he’d had a go. You’d talked and talked, and Santi can’t even remember what about. Nothing, probably. The basics. Boring stuff, but filled with details that he’d used to keep the conversation going the next day.

He knows when he became your friend. Recognised when you trusted him more than the others, with the exception of maybe Will.

But he didn’t know when he fell in love with you. Just the day that the love became so overwhelming in his chest that he realised it.

The real nail in his metaphorical coffin was the night afterwards. The 5 of you had gone to a bar, and a girl had started talking to him as he was buying drinks. She was pretty, but she wasn’t you. And like a flashbulb, all of Santi’s previous partners flew through his mind and he realised that nothing had ever come out of them because they weren’t you.

They didn’t know how he liked his coffee, or why he had joined the military. They didn’t know the story behind his callsign, or what his favourite song was.

You did. What you weren’t there for, you asked about. You remembered. You made him feel important, like he mattered. In ways that he didn’t even really know existed.

You were the one that started him on decaf without telling him. That had been a conversation and a half. Before morning briefings, you’d started bringing him coffees. He hadn’t noticed much of a taste difference, and shamefully, had come to expect them.

Until, a month later, you weren’t there. A small trip home to visit your family, everyone knew you’d be back in a couple of days. Regardless, Santi had ordered what he’d thought was his usual coffee.

And found his anxiety rearing up again. It was subtle, making him more jumpy, less able to sleep, but it was there. He wasn’t sure what the cause was, definitely hadn’t linked it to the coffee, instead assuming that maybe he just missed you. Maybe because his anxiety hadn’t disappeared all the way, even with decaf. Maybe it was because it was your presence that helped him too.

He hadn’t even really noticed when the caffeine was gone, hadn’t noticed the absence of something wrong, only seeing the contrast when it returned. Maybe because it was gradual, the weaning off the caffeinated coffee, whereas the return, with his request of additional shot, had been too sharp for him.

You hadn’t noticed at first, assuming that Santi’s bear hug when he’d first seen you had just been because he missed you. But after lunch you pulled him to one side.

“Are you alright?” Your eyes are slightly wider with worry, and you’re chewing slightly on your bottom lip.

He hates that he’s the one to do that to you, and he tries to brush it off. “I’m fine.” That was his first mistake. His second was trying to push past you.

“Santiago!” He’s pulled up short, and there’s that tension, pulling at his shoulders, his eyebrows. “Tell me what’s wrong.” Your tone of voice hasn’t changed, but this time it’s a command.

Exhausted, hating himself, Santi drags his hands across his face. “Nothing. It’s nothing. I don’t...I don’t know.” He takes a breath, and it shudders through him. “I don’t know.” He sounds defeated, and he hopes you can’t hear it. “I just...I feel…” How does he feel? “Jittery.” Is what he finally settles on, but the word still feels wrong somehow.

You frown, looking him up and down like you’ve never seen him before. In fact, you’re silent for so long, Santi starts to be worried that you’re going to tell him to stop being so fucking ridiculous.

You don’t, but you ask questions.

Has he been sleeping? “Not really.”

Does he have something big coming up? “Just the usual.”

Has his daily routine changed at all? “No, I don’t think so. I get myself a coffee in the morning and the-”

You interrupt him with a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.” And now it’s wrong, because now you’re looking at him like it’s your fault, when it definitely isn’t. “Santi I’m sorry. It’s your coffee.”

Santi frowns. His coffee? And you sound so apologetic, and he doesn’t understand why. “I switched you to decaf.” You can’t meet his eyes any more, gaze skittering to his shoulder with nerves. And you’re not shutting up. “I’m sorry, I should have told you, or asked if I could, I just... I knew you were getting nightmares, and decaf helped me so I thought it might help y-”

Santi cuts you off with a hug.

And now, the three of you sat in the booth, he hates himself for agreeing with Benny. He would like to know. He has a sneaking suspicion, odd little comments you’ve made throughout the years that when pieced together, paint a picture. A very vivid picture that he sometimes uses to torture himself, late at night in bed, imagining what you’d look like with your hands between your legs and wrapping a hand around his-

Santi shakes his head. Now is not the time. There’s never really a good time to fantasise about one of your best friends, but in public when they’re sitting next to you, is definitely one of the worst.

And why did he have to offer to take care of you? Did he think he was in some kind of cheesy porno? What if you hated him-

In the end, it’s you who breaks him out of his thoughts. “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed Pope.” You push out with your foot, lightly kicking his thigh, unable to read his stony face.

Throughout all of this, Frankie has kept quiet, and now the conversation seems like it’ll be returning to safer ground, he rubs a hand over his face, lifting his hat slightly. “No.” Santi protests, although he says it too fast for it to be sincere. “I’m not embarrassed.”

“Good,” you reply, and Santi can see the moment a thought pops into your head that you can’t resist, he can see it in the way your eyes light up with mischief. “Out of all the boys, I figured you’d be the most likely to use toys.”

Frankie quickly slides out from his seat, muttering something about going to the toilet, his cheeks aflame, as Santi chokes a little on his beer. “Or maybe Will,” you muse, and Santi coughs again. “Shit, are you alright?” You ask, rocking forward to lean on your knee so you can rub Santi’s back for a second.

He concentrates on getting himself back under control, on not focusing how warm your hand is against his back. He takes deep breaths in an attempt to calm his heart down, praying that the room is dark enough that you won’t see him blush.  

Santi nods, his eyes watering a little, and you laugh, but it’s not unkind, not even when one of your thumbs wipes at his lower lash line, brushing away his tears with the pad. It’s so unexpectedly soft, another sharp contrast to this sticky, seedy bar they’re all in, where the booth seats are cracked and the most complicated drink they make is a rum and coke.

“Good,” you say, voice quiet, scooting back on the bench, your foot closer to his thigh this time, and Santi hates himself for wanting to follow you.

Instead, he pretends everyone else is still here, even as he watches Will whisper something into Benny’s ear as they stand, drinking next to the bar, with no clear intention of returning. Suddenly Benny punches Will’s upper arm, and Santi’s eyebrows twitch slightly in confusion. Benny looks ecstatic, and for what?

“I’ve used handcuffs,” he says casually, half of his mind taken up with Benny and Will acting like lunatics at the bar behind you. He’s wrenched back to you when you raise an eyebrow, and he’s reminded what it feels like to be the centre of your world.

Fuck, you’re sexy though.

***

Your heart beat speeds up, suddenly sounding loud in your chest. Your mind is screaming Danger! at you - but how can it be? This is Santiago. You would trust him with your life. You have.

I could take care of you, flashes through your mind again. Maybe-

“Yeah?” You ask, trying to act calm when there’s a steady thrumming under your skin. “And are you the tied up person, or do you do the tying?”

Santi scoffs, like he thinks the answer is obvious. Maybe it is.

“I do the tying.”

You smirk, dragging an exaggerated eye up and down his body. “Sure about that?”

He looks relaxed, like he can take up more space now Frankie has gone. One of his hands is on your calf, gently trailing up and down, slowly setting you on fire, and you don’t even think he realises he’s doing it. There’s something in his eyes that you don’t recognise, darker, although it seems familiar. That’s been happening more and more lately, especially when it’s just the two of you. You like it.

“You want to test me babygirl?”

You feel breathless. “Maybe I’d like to try.”

You’ve never spoken with Santi like this before. You flirt with him more than the other boys, but this is new. This feels...real, somehow. More dangerous. And he’s closer now, shifting, so your foot is over his lap, his hand wrapped around your ankle, on your bare skin and you’ve forgotten how to breathe. You watch his hand move on your leg and you feel like you could evaporate.  

“That’s not what good girls do.” Fuck, his voice.

“Good girls don’t do a lot of things I do.”

And you’re not sure what gives you the sudden confidence, but you lean forwards, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth. It’s a horrible angle, your legs in the way, but you don’t care.

And then you’re retreating, opening your eyes again, suddenly unsure of what you’ve just done. Your mouth feels tingly, where you can still feel Santi against you. His grip has tightened on your leg, no longer moving.

And then his hand is tugging at you a little, and there’s a smile threatening to take over his face.

Come here.

You scoot up, so your left leg is fully over him, your right leg tangling with his under the table and you can smell him now, beer and - as weird as it sounds - like a man. It’s familiar. Nice. Breathless, you shoot him a little grin, suddenly unsure.

And then he’s kissing you again and it’s everything you ever dreamed of. His lips are soft, but firm, moving against your mouth, contrasting with the slight stubble growing on his face. His free hand moves to your waist and you let out a small sound.

You break apart after a second, both of you breathless. You’ve slung your arms around his neck, fingers idly playing with his chain, and you’re the first to speak.

“So do you use those handcuffs on anyone?”

Santi kisses you again, short and sweet, before he answers, his lips mumbling against yours. “Hmm, just on girls I really like.”

You kiss again, neither of you really wanting to stop. “Can I use them on you?” Santi asks, moving to kiss along your jaw, nipping at your earlobe. You feel surrounded by him, he’s all you care about, all you can feel.

Your eyes snap open, desire pooling in your belly. Is this really happening? “Yes.”

“Good.” Santi’s voice is still low in your ear, before he moves down your neck, soft lips a stark contrast to his stubble catching on your skin. “How do you feel about a date, too?”

“Yeah?” You lean back slightly so you can see his face. He’s beautiful in this light, face half hidden in the shadows, eyes dark.

His lips are brushing yours again.

“Yeah. I’ll pick you up, take you somewhere nice, do it properly.”

“Good,” you mumble against him, “that sounds really good.” Your fingers are still playing with his chain, lightly brushing against the scar on his neck. “Shall we go?”

Before you know it, the two of you are sitting in a cab, having said a quick goodbye to the others, Will asking if it was safe for them to sit back in the booth. You’d responded with the finger, not bothering with a proper reply.

Santi leans over to you, whispering into your ear. “Can I really tie you up?”

You clench your thighs together, closing your eyes in an effort not to physically respond. The pause is enough for Santi to hesitate, hand shyly holding yours. “It’s ok, if you don’t want to, that’s fine, it was just a-”

You stop him with a kiss, moving your hand so you can squeeze him in reassurance. When you answer, it’s a mumble against his mouth so the driver doesn’t hear. “Break out the handcuffs, and we’ll see if you’re as tough as you act, big boy.”

Santi groans when you lean away from him.

Getting inside Santi’s flat is a feat in itself, and you’re honestly a little proud of the restraint both of you showed by not fucking in the stairwell, stopping every couple of meters to kiss each other senseless, hips clumsily knocking together as you rile each other up.

You’ve been inside his flat before, so when Santi kicks the door closed, walking you backwards into his bedroom, kissing you all the while, you don’t protest. It’s so nice to finally kiss Santi like you’ve wanted to for a while now, so nice to feel his hands on your waist, pushing you backwards while his hips press into yours, steady now, purposeful.

His fingers are playing with the waist of your trousers, and you help him, shimmying your jeans off, pushing them down your thighs and letting them fall to the floor. Then he surprises you, dropping to his knees in front of you, pulling your knickers down your legs.

Looking down, you feel dizzy from the rush of power this brings you. Santi looks like he’s about to worship you, his face close to your pussy. His hands are on your waist and he pushes at you, encouraging you to step back.

When you don’t he tips his head back, exposing his neck to you. “Step back.” His voice is dangerous and you can feel more wetness gathering between your legs. You grin down at him, still not moving.

In response Santi nips at your thigh, grinning when you gasp, hands flying to his hair. He pushes at you again, and this time you let him, stepping back until you hit his bed, sitting down.

Santi presses his hand against your stomach, and you allow yourself to be pushed back, falling back onto your elbows so you can watch him. He presses his nose to your mound and you squirm, impatient, as Santi spreads your knees so he can fit between your legs.

You watch him press his nose to your pussy, burying his nose in you, feeling yourself grow wetter. “You taste so good,” he groans, “Sweetest pussy I’ve tasted.” As he begins to explore you with his tongue, your hips lift off the bed with a groan and it takes you a second to recognise your own voice, broken with need. Santi’s arm reaches out, pressing you down as he explores your folds. Stubble is scratching your thighs, a pleasantly rough feeling compared to the soft wetness, the pliability of Santi’s tongue. Your clit is the first thing he concentrates on, his tongue practically lapping at you, and it all feels so good.

One hand is desperately fisting the sheets to the side of you as you try to hold on to reality, the other knotted in Santi’s short curls, nails scraping ever so slightly along his scalp even as he lifts you higher and higher. Broken pleas of his name fall from your lips when he inserts two fingers into you, gently pumping in and out, with a strangely satisfying squelch under your cries.

Your orgasm creeps up on you, slow and unsuspecting. One second your chest is heaving, breaths short and shallow, the next you’ve tensed up as you fall apart under Santi.

He keeps kissing you, gently pressing his lips over your thighs, hips, stomach as you stare at his ceiling, willing rational thought to return to you. He’s murmuring praises into your skin, telling you how good you are for him, what a good job you’ve done, how pretty you look when you come, how he wants to make you do it again, and all the while you float somewhere above your body, hardly daring to believe this is real. Santi keeps kissing you, any skin he can get his mouth on, desperate to keep tasting you. Gradually he moves up your body, even as you lie there, panting, letting him push your top up, bunching under your arms and around your neck.

Your hands fly to his hair when he bites the soft skin of your breast peeking out from your bra, and you arch your back towards him slightly, letting out a small whine. You can feel his smirk against you, so you wrap your legs around his waist, canting your hips up, grinding against where you can feel him, hard and aching in his jeans.

Now it’s your turn to smirk, slow and lazy when Santi lets out a low growl in response. He tips his head up so he can look at you, his eyes soft as he smiles at you. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

And then his body weight is gone and he’s standing next to the bed, taking his top off and it’s not the first time you’ve seen him shirtless, of course it isn’t, but it’s the first time you’ve seen him and been allowed to look, and Santi’s all shadows and soft muscle, pale scars highlighted on his skin.

You sit up, and it takes you a second to fight your way out of your top, quickly sliding the straps of your bra off, and dropping your clothes to the side of the bed as you watch Santi cross his room, and fish out a pair of handcuffs from a box with a couple of other objects inside, as well as what you’re pretty sure looks like a strap-on. And maybe it’s because his ass is currently in your eye-line, maybe it’s the surprise, but the image of you wearing it, teasing Santi with your dick while he waits on all fours on his bed, begging for you to touch him, suddenly pops into your head, and you have to work to hold back a moan at the mental image. Oh my god.

When Santi turns back to you, he’s opened the cuffs. “Are you familiar with the traffic light system?”

You suddenly feel nervous, your mouth dry, and you don’t know why, this is Santi. He’s made it clear that you don’t have to do this, and anyway you want to. “Green is good, orange is slow down, red is stop,” you recite easily, and Santi nods in satisfaction.

“Good girl,” he says and his words hit deep in your stomach, unfurling something you hadn’t known existed. “You say something and I’ll untie you.”

You raise an eyebrow, leaning back on your hands, eyeing up the way Santi’s jeans are still on, now hanging low on his hips, exposing a small trail of hair down from his bellybutton. “What if I don’t want you to untie me?” You ask.

You can see how his eyes darken, but he doesn’t move. “Tell me you understand,” he says, voice stern and you shiver.

“I understand,” you parrot. Santi nods, pleased at you doing as he says, and steps out of his jeans, pulling his boxers off at the same time, releasing his cock. He’s hard, curving up towards his stomach and leaking pre-cum.

Almost on instinct, you lean forwards to lick it off, and Santi lets out a groan of satisfaction at the sensation of your mouth just wrapping around his head, your hands on his thighs. Before you can take him any further, he’s stepping back, shaking his head.

“Lie back,” he instructs, and you obey. Santi kneels next to you, tugging your wrists up, above your head, looping the handcuffs through his headboard and clicking them on around you. You give them an experimental tug, biting back a moan when they hold fast. “Colour?” Santi asks, and you grin up at him.

“Green.” Your voice already sounds broken. “Santi, please.”

Santi just kneels back, looking at you with those hungry eyes. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he breathes out, hands running up and down your body, ignoring how you squirm as best you can under him.

“Oh yeah?” You ask. “Why don’t you come down here then, instead of just watching me?” Santi’s hands reach your breasts, squeezing and gently massaging and you arch your back towards him.

“You’re unhappy with my hands?” Santi returns, and stops touching you. You can’t help it, letting out a whine and straining to move your arms towards him, before remembering you can’t, your attempted movement jangling the chain a little.

“No, Santi,” you’re desperate for him to touch you again, especially now you can’t touch him,“Santi please, touch me again, touch me more.” Begging has never come so easily to you. And then Santi’s moving between your legs, gripping your hips and thrusting up, but not into you, just along your folds. You moan, shifting as best as you can while Santi coats himself with your slick, the head of his cock just pushing your clit, teasing you and riling you up further.

You suddenly really want to touch him, to rake your hands through his hair, to scratch your nails down his back, to be able to suck a purple hickey into his skin. You let your head fall back to the bed, pushing your hips towards him, desperate for more, desperate for him.

It’s only when you open your mouth in a desperate plea, a whine of his name, “Santi, Santi please,” that he begins to push into you.

Your mouth falls open in silent pleasure, just as Santi begins to talk. “Fuck, baby.” The stretch of him is delicious. “I wanted this for so long.” Now fully seated in you, he rests on his forearms, kissing you softly, first on the forehead, then on your lips. “Colour?” he asks softly.

You nearly cry from how sweet it is, how sweet he is, before responding, a mumble against his lips. “Green.” You feel full, like this is how you’re supposed to feel all the time, this is your base state, and you’re going to spend the rest of your life trying to achieve this specific feeling.

“Good girl,” Santi murmurs and you keen at the praise, feeling insatiable, wanting more, clenching around him. He grins, registering your response. “You liked that? You like being told what a good job you’re doing, how good you feel around me..” he breaks off with a gasp, and your eyes close as Santi begins to move in time with his words, long, slow thrusts as he begins to put you together again, building you up, further and further, his thrusts speeding up gradually, the sound of his dick sliding into your wetness, and the slap of skin-on-skin loud in his room, mixing with your moans.

You lift your legs up, wrapping them around his waist, hooking one of your feet around Santi’s butt. They don’t stay there for long, one of Santi’s arms pushing one leg up your body, hand under your knee as he splits you open. The new angle hits something deeper in you, and you gasp, unable to move and at the mercy of Santiago.

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, coming out of nowhere, your lower body suddenly clenching around Santi, arms straining against the handcuffs, as you try in vain to touch him. You tumble through it, muscles spasming as you fall under him. He keeps moving into you as you shudder below him, pulling you through with murmured praise and encouragement as another broken cry leaves your throat.

His thrusts start to get sloppier as he goes faster, losing his rhythm slightly and you can tell he’s near his end. As best you can, you start moving your own hips, grinding up to meet him, words of encouragement slipping past your lips. “Santi, you feel so good, are you gonna fill me up?” You coo, pouting a little, tugging your wrists a little for emphasis. “Please Santi, I want to feel you, come in me, please-”

You stop when Santi snaps his hips once more, with a groan of finality and you can feel his cum inside of you as he holds himself there, his cock pulsing within you. He presses a couple more gentle kisses to your neck before sliding out, and you hiss slightly at the pull on your sensitive folds of your pussy.

He leaves for a second, returning with a key and gently releasing your wrists. “Good girl,” he murmurs, massaging your skin. “You did so good for me.”

He helps you sit up, kissing your cheek before leaving again. This time when he returns, he has a wet rag, and a glass of water, which you take a sip from, not having realised how thirsty you were. He gently dabs the rag on the inside of your thighs first, and the two of you watch in slightly morbid fascination as Santi’s cum leaks out of you onto the rag.

“That’s kinda hot,” you comment idly, wondering if Santi fucked all sense of you.

He only laughs, wiping the mess away and cuddling up next to you. “Do you want me to do it again?” he asks as you lean into his arms, his hands wrapping around your wrists to rub circles into your skin.

“Yes,” you answer, probably too quickly but beyond caring.

“Good.”

There’s a pause, and you can tell Santi wants to ask you something, so you twist in his arms, kissing along his shoulder. The act feels small, and innocent somehow, despite your states of undress, as you try to reassure him.

“You were right,” you murmur near his ear, “Stranger was where I was going wrong.”

It takes him a second to piece your reference together, but then he grins, and it’s like he hung the sun in the sky. “Yeah? I took care of you?”

You kiss him again, this time on the lips, biting back your own identical grin. “Yeah.”

***

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Tags: @fantasticcopeaglepasta​

[warmau]

☆ [nostalgic] summer romance!au chenle happy (once again late) birthday lele ! ~ find others here: johnny | haechan | taeil | taeyong | mark | jaemin | yangyang | yuta | sicheng

maybe the heat has gotten to chenle 

when he sits down on the last step of the long staircase nestled between your building and the twenty four hour grocery store

the stairs lead up to the next block, where you can hear the vague sounds of kids playing on the street. one of the voices might be haechan, he’s shouting for someone to come back

but you look at chenle and he’s looking at his knees

freshly bruised from where he and jisung both fell off their bikes a couple days ago, it’s starting to scab and he looks like he’s trying not to pick at it

“sorry, you want me to do what?”

“don’t make me say it again.”

he mutters and he won’t look at you

you know even if you ask him too - he’s probably the most stubborn person you’ve ever met -  he won’t

“no, i didn’t hear - well i did, but i mean - you’re crazy.”

“you can just say no.”

he shifts his gaze from his knees up to the sky and then after you wait patiently for another minute he finally does look at you

“do you really hate the idea of it?”

“it’s not that. it’s just.......if you really like this person, you should just fall into it naturally with them. you shouldn’t have to practice - you should just do it when it feels right.”

his mouth twitches like he’s about to scowl and roll his eyes and stomp away

because that’s what he does when things don’t go his way but instead he just stares at you and says;

“i won’t know what feels right until ive at least tried it.”

you should argue back, you and chenle are notorious for always bantering and quarrelling and leaving all of your friends either annoyed or doubling over with laughter

but you can’t think of something witty to say. something at least convincing because he makes a point

but also

how is he not embarrassed to ask me of all people that?

sighing, you’re the one who looks away and over your shoulder up the stairs

no one is around - their voices are - but they’re distant and chenle is close

so close that bruised knee of his could brush yours if he just inched a little to his left

“fine.”

you give in and turn your shoulders back toward him

“you might as well practice with me, anyone else and you might actually catch another crush on top of the one you have now.”

chenle half smirks and you don’t register the emotional shift in the light brown of his eyes

you just think he’s going along with your joke - well not really a joke, more like a statement

and that’s how you end up leaning in, one hand on the stairs as if to keep your balance even while sitting down

and the other on the side of chenle’s cheek

you hover just a moment before you kiss him - a split, wordless millisecond of hesitation - and then you let your lips gently press to his

it isn’t even a real kiss but it is the first moment of the rest of a summer you never expected

of course, you and chenle tell no one about this weird, awkward, beyond the boundaries of friendship thing you are doing

mostly because if you did haechan and jaemin would not let it go, not until you were all rolling in your graves and jisung would probably be scarred with crippling doubt of where every friendship of his stood

so you only naturally have to sneak around

chenle is a good liar though, well better than you who has trouble even looking renjun in the eyes when chenle says you and him have to leave a little earlier from the backyard barbeque someones throwing because oh right, you forgot your allergy medicine at home and chenle promised some old lady across the street he’d feed her cat while she was on holiday

they’re half-assed, badly timed lies but it is summer

and if you and chenle don’t want to have fun with the rest of the group then so be it

you guys just get teased and called debbie-downers and then you’re home free

well home free in a sense that you know have some time to sit on the rug of your bedroom and kiss

for the sake of learning

“where do i put my hands?”

chenle asks one time and you move instinctively to put one of his palms on the side of your waist. 

that’s where i like to be held-

you drop his hand as soon as the thought crosses your mind and stutter out

“well, that’s more a question for your crush. different people like it in different places.”

he nods and thinks for a second

“we’ve only kissed a couple of times but i think i like putting my hand on your waist.”

his palm ends up just where you had wanted to lead it and when a little swell of butterflies flutters in your stomach at the fact, you quell the feeling and shove it deep deep deep down 

this persists throughout the weeks, and each time you try and introduce chenle to a tier higher of kissing, if that makes sense

you’ve got down the leaning in, the hand position, the tilting your head, the emergency breath mints, the lead up or lead out, the avoid nose smashing or teeth clanking and then there’s only really one last thing you can graduate too and it’s 

“tongue?”

you almost hark on the ice-cream sandwich you’re eating when jaemin says the word

“yeah, he got his tongue pierced. are you ok?”

renjun turns his long gaze to you, the poor ice-cream melting all over the wrapper and on your fingers

“fine, yeah, it’s just - super hot. i think im gonna go home and lay under the ac.”

your eyes go from renjun to jaemin to chenle who gives a little nod and stands up from his side of the table with a groan

“sorry guys, i got a text from my mom. i gotta go now too.”

no one says anything. renjun taps his fingers and doesn’t look away from you as jaemin tries desperately to convince you both to stay and when you both say no he sticks his tongue out and asks you a question that you thought would sooner come out of anyone elses mouth

“are you two like hooking up behind our backs or something, you’re always gone when we’re having the most fun!”

you think you might really fall over - renjun, sure you could have seen him figuring it out. haechan - definitely. even jeno......but 

jaemin?

“what? like i’d ever hook up with them.”

chenle’s voice comes out, high and mocking 

it’s pretty good and you almost believe it for a second - turn around and tell him hey, you’ve been making out with me this whole entire month so if you want to end up practicing on a stuffed animal back home you better take that back!

when you realize - right, he’s covering up

you scrunch up your nose and chuck the icecream into the trash

“right, like id ever let him touch me.”

jaemin is convinced, he goes back to laughter and obliviousness, but renjun chuckles when you pass by and the undertone of it makes you shake even in the heat

“renjun knows.”

you and chenle are not in your room for once, you’re outside in a small park that’s been abandoned as the summer moon switches places with the summer sun

chenle is swinging back and forth and you’re leaning against the side of the swing set nervously biting your lip

“he gave me a look when we left.”

“are you going to teach me it by the way?”

“teach you what?”

you hear the swing come to a stop and he stands up, you don’t know if now the summer heat is getting to you

because when you look at him he looks different

he looks handsome, not just cute and sweet like you’re used to seeing him - all round faced and smiley - he’s gotten taller and is still so naturally thin it brings out the defining cuts of the sharper parts of his face

you look away immediately when you start cataloging all of this in your brain

people only do that with people they like, you don’t look at your friends and start painting their best features in your head like a psycho ........ ok not a psycho but someone that’s.....that’s in ......

“you know, how to actually kiss. not little pecks or whatever, like actual deeper kissing.”

it is obvious what he’s asking and you are pretty sure it’s just his drive to be better at all this for that person he likes 

but you feel shy about it, even a little uncomfortable with the idea of being slightly closer to someone who is using you as what could be compared with a scientific mannequin 

a how-to user guide, a one time trial period

you feel light headed and when chenle comes into your personal space and reaches out to hold you, you jerk back

“stop - wait.”

he listens 

“w-who do you even like, you never told me.”

“why’s that important?” 

his eyes widen a little and you are racing through a hundred different excuses and reasons to prolong this conversation

“well i want to know. i mean, i mean everything we practiced you’re going to use with them so i just i guess i feel like im at least entitled to know that.”

“it’s a secret, it doens’t matter either way.”

“do i know them?”

chenle frowns, “no. they don’t live near here. anyway are you ok why-”

you walk backwards, up until your back hits the fence that runs around the little park

chenle’s ticked off look turns into genuine concern and he stops a couple of feet from you and asks this time if you’re really ok, if you don’t want to do this anymore than that’s all you have to say-

he’s speaking, in almost something akin to a whisper, and the sound along with the dawning of the evening makes you remember that first kiss you gave him on the stairs

his bruised knee, haechan’s voice in the distance, the long steps leading up to the entire world and away from chenle

if you really had felt nothing for him but friendship, you would have gotten up and told him to stop playing around

you would have trotted up those steps and joined everyone else

you would have never leaned in and kissed him first

but you had and the secret that you’d stowed as far back in your heart as possible had slowly, with each day of this summer, been pulled out and out and out

and now it was big and shining and the only thing you could think about anymore

i like chenle

and everytime he kisses me

he’s thinking of someone else

“i can’t, i can’t do that with you.”

you finally find the words and then clutch your fingers into fists at your side when chenle gives you a sad look you almost never see him wear

“it’s not that i don’t want to, i do. i want to. and not to help you learn or whatever but because i really just........want to.”

that sad look is turning into something you’re too scared to look at - but you know he’s following your train of thought now

“and you should want to do that with the person you like, not a replace-”

“it’s you.”

he cuts in before you finish your sentence and like a train going at full speed you brake and everything crashes in at once

“-ment......sorry, what?”

“it’s you. you’re the person i like.”

“but- you - practice- you - what?”

the starstruck look on your face makes chenle laugh and you can’t believe the audacity, buy you also want an answer so when he wipes away his chuckling he nods

“it was you all along. do you think i’d ever want to spend days making out with someone i didn’t like?”

when you had thought something had been wrong with him on the day he’d asked you to do this the first time, you really had thought either he’d gotten heatstroke or been brainwashed

it was so unlike chenle to 1) admit he needed to practice something and 2) want to practice it with someone he wasn’t at least fond of

so really, maybe something had been wrong with you, when you had failed to see that his whole plan this time was

“you just wanted an excuse to kiss me all summer?”

he shrugs and grins, “it was nice right?”

you can’t argue or lie or disagree - it was nice - and now you’re standing here in this park with no one around and you think maybe you shuold teach chenle the last and final thing about kissing

so you finally let him come closer and with his hand on your waist, just where you like it, he leans in again

but just before you do anything else you pull back and mumble

“jaemin is going to freak out when we tell him he was right, we have been sneaking out around behind everyones back to make out.”

“yeah but renjun definitely knows right?”

you nod, right, maybe that’ll soften the shock for everyone

(it doesn’t)

and sometimes you also get another wave of shock, even after dating chenle for so long 

not much has changed - you still like to push each other and tease and pretend like you aren’t head over heels in love with each other 

if only because that’s one way to show that you are, in fact, very much attached 

and because even when you kiss in front of the group - jaemin still says it blows his mind

the only person who keeps reminding everyone that he saw this coming, even before you and chenle spent that summer locking lips 

is renjun who looks at you and chenle and is like, “one day ill probably be helping plan their wedding.”

you and chenle look at each other and pretend to gag, wedding? no way? to each other? you’d both rather die!

and then you grin and kiss and tickle noses and disappear into a bubble of your own

every time you get to be alone though you whisper against his cheek that you love him, he knows exactly how to make you happy

and he reminds you hey - you taught me everything i know, that one summer all that time ago.

[bqstqnbruin]

Priceless

Ok so here I am somehow with a second fic in a matter of, what, two ish days? Anyway, this is one that I wrote and posted last year but I reread it and it sucked so I took it down and rewrote it. Hope you like it!

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: none? swearing? Typos for sure.

_______________

You loved him with your whole heart; there was nothing that you wouldn’t do for him, and you knew that he felt the same about you. At least, that’s what you used to believe.

Ever the one for dramatics, a three am alarm was what made you question not only your whole relationship but your whole existence. The witching hour was an ungodly time to be waking up and getting ready, no matter what the reason was. Even when it involved flying off to Europe for a destination wedding that involved Jake’s entire team.

“Babe?” you call to him, the shower just turning off. He pokes his head out, hair wet, droplets of water rolling down his face as he waited for you to answer, “We’re going to have time to stop at a Dunkin’, right?” you whine, doing everything in your power to not pass out then and there instead of finishing your packing.

“Maybe?” he says, ducking back into the bathroom before coming out with just a towel on, hanging on his waist. If you weren’t so exhausted, the things you could be doing right now, your mind wanders as he continues talking, “We have to get through TSA and I don’t think they would allow you to bring that through security, would they?”

“Fucking hell,” you mutter to yourself, throwing the last of what you needed into your suitcase, trying to find anything of Jake’s lying around that you knew he would forget. “What if I finish it in the car before we go through security?” you beg, hoping he’ll cave.

“Y/N,” he sings, “then you’re going to have to use the bathroom a million times and it’s going to be my fault.”

“Do I have to be pleasant before I get coffee in me?”

You hear him laugh from the bathroom as you lean back on the bed and close your eyes. “You wouldn’t be you if you were pleasant before your coffee, babe.” You do everything in your power to try to stay awake while he gets ready, him saying random things as he runs around getting dressed, you murmuring weak responses in return. “Hey, come on, sleepyhead,” he says, pulling you off the bed, “We’ve gotta get to Logan.”

You drive there in silence, praying for the moment you get coffee in you as you still struggle to stay awake while Jake keeps talking. The car stops, Jake pulling down the window when you finally open your eyes, seeing that you were sitting in the drive-thru line at Dunkin. “God, I love you,” you say, leaning over and kissing his cheek, a smile covering his face.

“Who’s paying, you or me?” he asks, not letting you answer due to the voice of the cashier inside coming through the speaker to take your order. Two small coffees, enough to hold you over for the drive to the airport before you get more coffee once you’re through the gate. He looks at you as you stare down at your phone, having to check your bank account to see if you even had the money to begin with. “I’ll pay for both,” he says, a calm tone covering her voice.

Money for you was tight. You had never really struggled to pay your bills and your share of the utilities, but you definitely didn’t have the amount of extra cash that Jake did because of the seemingly never-ending student loan payments you were making. “I’m sorry,” you say, taking the coffee from him so he can get to driving again. You hated having the money conversation; no matter who you talked to, they always seemed to bring up the fact that your NHL player boyfriend made more money in a single season than you had seen in your entire life. It always left things awkward, as the implication of you being a gold digger hung in the air between you and the person you were having a conversation with. “I can probably transfer some money from my savings for extra stuff, but I had really only planned on buying a few meals and a few other trinkets for my family,” you admit, staring at the low number that showed in your checking account.

“Hey,” he says, resting his hand on your thigh, not taking his eyes off the road, “It’s fine. Anything you want, I’ll pay for it.” You smile at him, hoping he couldn’t tell from the corner of his eye that it wasn’t sincere. That was another thing you hated: other people covering for you. You grew up being taught that if you didn’t have money for it, you either didn’t pay for it until you had the money yourself, or you forewent it entirely. Having to worry about paying someone back was unnecessary stress in your life. Or, if they were like Jake, then they would insist it was their treat, not taking the money you owed them no matter how much it was.

You look out the window, the empty, tree-lined highway lighting up as the sun rose over it, the sky turning from the dark purple night to a brilliant orange right in front of you. You had never been one to wake up for the sunrise, taking in the sight for what was probably the first time in your life. “It’s so beautiful,” you say, taking a sip of your coffee, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it this calm and quiet before.”

“I’ve seen one thing more beautiful than this,” he says, a huge smile on his face.

“What?” you ask, bracing him for the cheesy comment you knew he was going to make.

“You,” he says, proudly, trying to find your hand without looking away from the road, bringing it to his lips before connecting his back to the wheel.

“God,” you moan, both of you laughing, “That was so corny.”

“Well, they call me Chef JD, gotta have some corn sometimes,” he says, resulting in you screaming.

“I will in fact leave you if you say something like that again,” you tell him.

“Yeah? Where would you live, then?” he teases, immediately regretting his words, “Fuck, sorry.”

“I’d figure something out,” you tell him, trying to match his teasing tone so that he doesn’t think you took it the way you did. The rest of the ride to the airport is in silence, you both finishing your coffee as you pull up, seeing some of the guys getting their stuff out of their car at the same time. “Hey, aren’t international flights normally at night?” you ask Jake, Charlie, and Matt coming over to help you guys get your bags.

“Bergy booked the flight for all of us and we don’t question him,” Charlie says, pulling Jake away from you, the two of them wandering into the airport with Kylie trying to keep up with her own boyfriend

“It should be more concerning to all of you that he has to act like your father,” you say to Matt, walking with him to security. Besides Jake, you were closest to Matt. He adopted you as a pseudo younger sister, the one who knew just as much, if not more about you than your boyfriend.

Matt shrugs, watching Charlie and Jake mess around with each other in line in front of you, “It just kind of happened that way. None of us ever questioned it, like Chuck said.” The two of you watch the boys, bickering about something as they seemingly all forget their girls were standing right around them. You and Matt fall into a mundane conversation, watching Jake and Charlie together as they pass through security. The five of you gather your things, trying to find which way your gate was so you could meet the rest of the guys before boarding the flight.

Matt figured out that you were supposed to head to the left, so naturally, Jake and Charlie veered right, leaving you and Kylie with all their stuff to lug to the gate. “Where are they going?” you ask Kylie, dumbfounded as you struggle to carry Jake’s bag along with your own stuff.

“Charlie mentioned he was hungry on the way here, so I’m just hoping that’s where they’re going,” she mutters, “Dealing with all of them together is like herding cats,” clearly as cranky as you were earlier that morning as you try to stifle your laughter. Just like you, Kylie was not a person to interact with before she had caffeine in her, one of the reasons the two of you got along so well.

You get to the gate, Jake and Charlie nowhere to be seen even though you were suddenly surrounded by the rest of the Bruins roster. From the looks of the waiting area, the flight was mostly the guys and their families, and thankfully so: you would hate to be on a plane with the Bruins organization if you were outside the organization itself. You loved the boys, but god, they were loud and annoying sometimes. Everyone else on the plane would definitely hate the group, but they didn’t care. The city was fueled by the hate of everyone who wasn’t them.

Jake and Charlie finally reappear, more coffee and now food in hand. Jake hands you what he got you as you reposition yourself so you’re sitting cross-legged on the seat, slightly uncomfortable due to how scrunched up you were so you could face him. You lean over, kissing his cheek before you start eating

He turns his head to smile at you as you catch him off guard and kiss him again. “What’s this for?”

“I don’t tell you enough that I appreciate you,” you say to him, taking a bite of the breakfast sandwich he got you.

Jake smiles at you, turning himself so he faces you. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck, gently pulling you towards him so he can kiss your forehead, mumbling something you can’t quite make out against your skin. Charlie starts chirping Jake over something, resulting in him leaving you to go argue with his teammates. You can’t help but smile as you watch Jake and his teammates. You knew he loved them, just like they loved him.

“You didn’t have coffee in you when I was talking to you before and you were actually pleasant?” Matt plops down next to you, taking your attention away from Jake.

You roll your eyes at him, even though you knew he was right, “Shut up, Gryz. Jake and I stopped for coffee on the way here. This is round two,” you say, raising the cup to him. The two of you watch some of the younger guys aggregate around Jake and Charlie, Jake telling them some story while they hang onto every word of his, laughing their heads off with every sentence. “God, he loves you guys.”

“Yeah, but you know he loves you more,” Matt says, nudging your shoulder.

“I think he loves Oreos more than he loves me sometimes,” you joke, knowing that it’s not true. Hoping that it’s not true, more like it.

“Trust me, JD loves three things in this order: you, hockey, then Oreos. He loves you more than he loves hockey. Nothing you can do will change that.”

You both laugh, the announcement for your flight to board interrupting the noise the rest of the guys were making. Jake rushes over to your side, picking up the bags both of you were planning on bringing onto the plan, practically pushing Matt out of the way. He kisses you on the cheek, a soft smile on his face.

“What?” you ask him, linking your arm in his.

“I love you,” he says, getting in line behind some of the guys.

“I love you, too,” you say, leaning your head against his arm.

“Ready for seven hours on a plane with these fools?” Jake asks, using his other arm to gesture to the rest of his teammates.

“I’m only ready because you’re with me,” you say to him in a sing-songy voice.

“Woah! So you can be corny, but I can’t?” he jokes, sending you two into a flirty bickering match as you board the plane with everyone. You get settled into your seats, resting your head on his shoulder to hopefully fall back to sleep despite the amount of caffeine coursing through your veins. You can hear the guys talking around you, probably annoying the rest of the passengers on the flight more than they intended.

You end up in that half awake-half asleep state while on his shoulder, the sounds of the rest of the guys fading in and out as you did. You could feel Jake occasionally kissing the top of your head, resting his on yours in an effort to go to sleep like you were. Both of you were woken up by the sound of the flight attendant coming through with food, the long flight warranting a hot meal, you and Jake being handed something different than the rest of the people around you.

“What is it?” you whisper to him once the flight attendant has passed by you.

“None of the free meals looked good so I got us something different,” he says, taking a bite of what looked like chicken covered in some sort of sauce.

“We could have just done the free meal so you wouldn’t be paying for me again,” you mumble, a little annoyed that he didn’t even ask when paying for food made things awkward earlier that morning.

You sit there in silence, eating the food that Jake bought you. Honestly, it was airplane food, not something that you had even wanted in the first place but you couldn’t let it go to waste now.

“I think I’m gonna go sit with Charlie,” Jake says, getting up without saying another word once the food is gone, leaving you to sit there by yourself with the other people in the row.

You try to find something to watch on the screen in front of you, only to be interrupted by Matt appearing and Jake’s seat, startling you as you rip out the headphones you had on while the first movie available was starting to play. “Your boy just kicked me out of my seat by sitting on top of me.”

You can’t help but laugh, picturing the other passengers' reactions around then as the grown men that were Jake and his teammates acted like absolute children. “I don’t know what’s worse: the fact that he did that or that fact that I’m not shocked that he did that.” You watch him with Charlie, your smile fading as his grows.

“Hey, what’s up?” Matt asks, pulling your attention away from Jake.

“Same argument that we haven’t really fought over yet.” Matt was the only one on the team that knew about the seemingly never-ending awkwardness that surrounded you and Jake when it came to money. “It’s not getting worse, but it’s more frequent. I’m just worried we’re gonna end up blowing up at each other and losing each other in the process,” you tell him, fixating on the screen in front of you.

You hear him exhale, looking over to see a sad look on his face. A single lock of hair falls down in front of his forehead, moving along with the rest of his head, “Couples fight. I don’t want to tell you that you should have this argument this weekend, but you have to talk about it. And I mean really talk about it, not just the vague undertones you two constantly have dancing around the subject.”

You stare at him, slightly confused at how something like that came out of him, “I don’t like how you said that so eloquently,” you laugh, Matt throwing his head back to join you.

“But you know I’m right,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” you huff, waving him off.

Without another word, he hands you his other earbud, starting a movie on his screen that would hopefully last the rest of the flight. You rest your head on his shoulder to get a better view of the screen, picturing Jake in his place.

You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you must have at some point because the next thing you know, the movie is over, the plane is about to land, and Matt is trying to get you off his shoulder so he can get back to his seat. “Hey, Y/N,” he whispers, nudging his shoulder gently. “Jake’s coming back,” he says, acting as if he didn’t want to get caught with you asleep next to him.

“Hi,” you yawn, rubbing your eyes as he plops back down in his seat, him kissing your cheek as you now struggle to stay awake. “It’s like, the middle of the night now, isn’t it?” you ask him, having no idea the time difference between Boston and where you were.

“I think it’s like 10 pm. I didn’t realize I was dating an old woman,” he jokes, pulling a laugh from you.

“You wear me out, babe,” you say, everyone getting up from their seats, the boys making more noise than anyone on the plane as people anxiously waited to get off.

“And you keep me young,” he says, giving you a quick peck before handing you your bag.

You hear someone groan behind you, turning to see Matt standing there already waiting for the two of you to move out of his way. “I’m not going to hang out with you if you’re like this the entire trip” he teases.

You can’t help but scoff, playing into the teasing nature of his comment. “Sorry, bubs, you’re the only one who didn’t bring a date so that makes you our third wheel.”

“I could third wheel any of the guys here and you know that,” he tries to defend himself as Jake grabs your hand and starts to pull you off the plane.

“That’s a weird thing to brag about,” you tell him, the three of you walking in a line to go get your bags, you and Matt carrying a conversation while Jake stands off to the side, not paying attention to the movement of the unfamiliar airport around him.

Everyone waits outside for whatever transportation Patrice had arranged to the hotel, still unsure how he swung any of the details he did. The guys had way too much energy considering how many hours they spent cooped up on a plane. You were exhausted, the coffee practically gone from your system as you tried to convince Jake to just go back to the hotel room with you and spend the night in. “Please?” you beg him, draping yourself on his arm as he waited to get your room keys.

“But the guys want to explore the city,” he whines, jutting his lip out to you.

“I have no more coffee in me,” you whine back. He pouts at you, contemplating whether or not it’s worth it to try to convince you to stay in or go explore with the guys. “I will do anything you want.”

He raises his eyebrows, pulling you close to him, “Anything?” he asks, forgetting the guys surrounding you as he kisses you, his grip around your waist tightening as his teammates start teasing the two of you.

“Hey, JD! Save that for the bedroom!” Matt chirps, your face turning bright red at his words.

“Ah, fuck off and let me love her,” he says, his forehead against yours. “I think I like the sound of the bedroom.”

You ignore the chirps from the boys as he kisses you again, the heat in your cheeks not subsiding until the two of you get to your room. “Are you sure you don’t want to go out with the guys? Apparently, the nightlife is supposed to be awesome in the city,” Jake says, flopping down on the bed. You had been there all of two seconds, and he was already starfished on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling.

You sigh, sitting down next to him. “I told you I don’t want to go out,” you repeat, a little more annoyed than you intended to sound. “I’m tired, and when we go out, we’re going to end up spending more money and-” you stop, cutting yourself off as Jake sits up.

“Hey,” he says, taking your hands in his, “I told you I would pay for you. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is, though. To me it is. I don’t need you to keep paying for me for everything. I don’t want you to.”

“What’s the big deal?”

Were you really about to have the fight you and Matt talked about on the plane in your hotel room? “Don’t you get it? You have so much money while I’m constantly struggling to make ends meet because of fucking loans. Do you know what it’s like to be a grown adult and live off someone else's money, the constant looks from people when I talk about you that say they think I’m just dating you for your money? That unless you’re home and go grocery shopping for us, I have to choose between food and gas until you get back? All I am is a fucking burden.”

“What, you think I don’t know about all of that? Why do you think I pay for you? So you don’t have to worry about food and gas,” he says, getting up.

“And I hate that you do that!” you snap, “That you feel like you have to. It’s like a slap in the face that I can never pay for anything and you have to pay for everything.”

“So what do you want me to do? Stand by and watch you struggle when I have the means to help you?” The volume of his voice matched yours, hearing doors in the hallway opening and closing, praying that it wasn’t other guests trying to figure out what room the screaming match was coming from.

“I don’t mind if you help out once in a while when I really need it but it’s stuff like the second round of Dunkin’ when I could barely get the first, the meal on the airplane when they give out free ones, or when you keep asking to go out, knowing that we’re going to spend money after I told you no.” Jake rolls his eyes, pushing past you and out the door. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going out with the guys. You want something, you can get it yourself, see if I care,” he hisses, leaving you standing there with the door propped open by your foot, watching him walk away. Matt gets off the elevator when he tries to get on, saying something you can’t make out when the elevator door closes.

“What the hell happened?” Matt asks, looking between you and the elevator.

You shake your head, trying to hold back the tears that were forming, knowing that there were other people in the hallway that had just witnessed the end of whatever that was. “Remember the fight you said we would have? We just had it,” you tell him, flopping down on your bed with your hands over your face. You let out a long groan, feeling the weight of Matt’s body sink the corner of the mattress down. You knew he was giving you that sympathetic look that was going to make you more upset, feeding into your already upset nature just that much more.

“What happened?” Matt repeats.

“We just finally snapped. God, of all places to have a stupid fight like this, we have at the night before your teammate is supposed to get married. I mean, fuck, we’re in Barcelona, for god's sake and you and I are here watching me mope instead of exploring like we should be.”

“Well, who says we can’t?”

“My bank account.”

Matt pries your hands off your face, forcing you to sit up despite you clearly not wanting to. “There’s so much to do in Barcelona at night that doesn’t involve spending money. We can find the guys no problem, probably doing something free.”

“And how do you expect we do that?” you ask him as he tries to drag you off the bed, grabbing the room key on the way out the door.

Matt waves his phone in the air, a smug look on his face. “I have the location of everyone on the team, past and present, on Find My Friends.”

You hesitate for a minute, your wallet and bag sitting right there by the door for you to grab to go join your boyfriend and his teammates and try to enjoy the night despite the fight you just had. “Matt,” you try to protest, your eyes darting back and forth between him and your bag. You didn’t want to worry about Jake on the night out, but you knew you couldn’t be spending a lot of money. You had been out with the guys too many times before when Jake promised they wouldn’t be big spenders, only to go home and have to worry about how you were going to survive to the next paycheck.

“If you want anything then I’ll pay for it and you pay me back with food or something. Y/N, Jake is wandering Barcelona with Charlie right now, probably just as upset as you are,” he tries to reason with you. “There’s no point in sitting here alone in your hotel room when you’re in a city that you’ve been talking about visiting for as long as I’ve known you.”

You let out a groan, knowing that he was right. “I can’t stand you,” you mumble, grabbing your bag and heading out the door with him.

Matt had his phone pulled out, trying to navigate the city based on a little dot that showed your boyfriend’s location. You had no idea where you were going, and, to be honest, you weren’t sure that Matt had any idea either. You had never been in a situation where the two of you had to wander through unfamiliar territory before, but something told you it was going to be a while before he figured out how to get to the rest of the guys.

“Matt, this is useless. We’ve been walking around for over an hour already,” you tell him, sitting down on the bench that was just off the path you had been taking.

“It hasn’t been an hour, you’re being dramatic.”

Matt sits down next to you as you pull out your phone. “We left the room at 10 pm. It’s 11. That’s an hour,” you snap at him, clearly hating that you can’t find them. “I just want to see Jake,” you mutter.

“Have either of you calmed down enough to have an actual conversation with each other? You know, not a screaming match?” Matt asks you, watching the small dots that represented his teammates move around his phone screen. “If you want to try to figure out your way around here, when neither of us speaks the language to ask for directions, we can. If not, we go back to the hotel.”

You stare at his phone, seeing JD, CM, TF, two JS’s, and a DP altogether, somewhere off the road where neither of you were able to figure out how to get to them. You shake your head, thinking about Matt’s words: you weren’t sure you were cooled off enough to talk to Jake rationally, and you had a feeling he was still the same. “Let’s just find our way back to the hotel,” you tell him, getting up off the bench.

You look at Matt, the look of sympathy covering his face as he follows you back the way you came. You probably could have easily found Jake and the rest of the guys, working out whatever the hell you needed to before the wedding tomorrow. If you couldn’t work it out, what did that mean for your future, though? If you didn’t live with Jake, you would be struggling way more than you were now, probably living paycheck to paycheck without the luxury of everything Jake did for you.

Were you wrong to be mad that he was trying to help?

The two of you get back to the hotel, the empty lobby eerily echoing with your footsteps on the marble floor. You hadn’t even noticed it before, the hotel you were staying at was probably the nicest one you had ever set foot in. You were tempted to sit on one of the chairs in the lobby, wait there for Jake and the rest of the guys to come back despite the fact that they would probably be drunk off their asses when you saw them.

Matt puts his hand on your arm, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Do you want to stay down here and wait?” he asks you, reading your mind, “Or, do you want to go back to either your room or mine?”

“I don’t want to impose,” you try to protest.

“So, you’d rather go back to an empty room and wallow alone instead of sitting on my bed, eating ice cream, and watching a movie,” he tempts you, raising his eyebrows with his offer.

“I don’t want ice cream.”

Matt scrunches his nose, letting out a laugh. “I never said the ice cream was for you. It’s summer, I can cheat on the nutrition plans a little more right now.”

He manages to pull a laugh from you, the two of you heading up to his room. You plopped yourself on his bed, your hands behind your head while you couldn’t take your mind off Jake. You really didn’t want him to be as miserable as you felt, but part of you also did want that. Was that bad?

You knew you had to set boundaries. You knew you couldn’t live without him, both financially and in life in general.

“You know,” Matt says, pulling you out of your thoughts yet again, “The guys are back here at the hotel. If you wanted to go back to your room, I’m sure you could talk to him now.”

You roll over, your back facing Matt. “I don’t think he would want to talk to me.”

Matt sighs, lying down next to you and staring up at the ceiling. “Like I told you in Boston, Jake loves you more than anything. If I know anything about him, he’s just as miserable as you are, probably back in your room panicking about where you are.”

You turn to him, narrowing your eyes. “This is your way of trying to get me out of here before the ice cream comes and you feel like you have to share with me, isn’t it?”

You both laugh, sitting up to get ready to go. “Oh, of course.”

You head out, opening the door, caught off guard by who was standing there. “Jake?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet. “I thought you would be here.” You nod, both of you standing there in an awkward silence as you held the door to Matt’s room open. You didn’t know if you should speak first or wait for Jake to do it, and apparently, he felt the same.

“As much as I love just staring at you two,” Matt breaks the silence. “Would you be able to do this with my door closed? You can be in here, but,” his voice trails off. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear whatever it was you were about to talk about even though he already knew.

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” you tell him, letting his room door close behind you as Jake took your hand in his, leading you down the hall to your room.

You don’t say anything until you get into your room, both of you sitting at the foot of the bed.

“I’m sorry I got mad,” he says, his hand still in yours but unable to look at you.

“I’m sorry I got mad,” you repeat, for lack of better words to say. “We need boundaries. I get that you want to pay for things, but I need you to ask me before you do, especially if it’s something we don’t necessarily need.”

“Ok,” he draws out, trying to figure out how to frame his words. “Would you be ok with asking me for help when you need it? You know I can help you, and it kills me seeing you struggle when I have the means to make this stop.”

“I just want you to ask.”

He smiles at you, raising his hand to cup your face. “I will,” he says, his lips finding yours for a soft, sweet kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You spend the rest of the night together, trying to figure out boundaries of what and when Jake can lend you money, what should be paid back, what he doesn’t want back, everything. It was the conversation you should have had years ago, yet never did.

The next morning, you get ready for his teammate's wedding, slipping on the dress, your back towards Jake while he put on his suit. “Can you zip me up?” you ask him while he adjusted his sleeves.

He comes up behind you, his fingers holding the small zipper and slowly pulling it up your back. Jake wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in front of the mirror hung on the wall of the room, his head nestled on your shoulder. “I can’t wait until we get married.”

You laugh, craning your neck to kiss the side of his head. “That’ll be an expensive day, won’t it,” you joke.

“Yeah, maybe. But spending the rest of my life with the girl I love? That’s priceless.”

[sugakuns]

[hc] “do you still love me?” ❤︎ kageyama, sugawara, kenma & hinata

thank you 🥺🥺 also we all know it’s kenma gaming lol

→ sugawara kōshi

Since every match was important to the third years, Kōshi has been staying behind after school every single day.

It started to take a toll on the time you spend with him

Over the past week you had only seen him in the hallways since he started to participate in early morning practice with the younger ones

So to say the least, you felt like your relationship was deteriorating

But you felt awful feeling this way because you knew that he didn’t mean to make you feel this way, but you simply can’t help it

How would anyone else feel after a week and a half of barely speaking to their s/o?

So after a while you decided to suck it up and face him in person and ask the question still causing havoc in your brain

So you found yourself outside the club room, fist raised in the air as you contemplated knocking on the door

Faintly, you could hear the shuffling behind the door which caused your heart to speed up

“Kōshi?”

How had you managed to call for him when you couldn’t even knock on the door?

The door swings open and Kōshi is sure enough there, peeking his head around the corner. His eyes light up as he sees you but it goes unnoticed by your sad eyes

“What’s up babe? Is something wrong?” As observant as ever 😭

he watches as you fiddle with your fingers, seemingly struggling to find the words

“Do you still love me?”

Kōshi splutters with his words, shocked by the question

“Of course I do! What made you think I wouldn’t?”

Even with his arms wrapped around you and his reassuring words, you can’t help but still hear that nagging voice in the back of your head

“..I know that volleyball is your number one priority right now but..you haven’t paid attention to me in like weeks! You never text me anymore and even in school you don’t talk to me..”

Kōshi frowns “You’re my number one priority, y/n”

After the little spill sesh that allowed you to tell Kōshi the way you were feeling, the sweetheart was about to cry 🥺

“Well, there’s no practice today..so let’s go out and I can show you that you really are my number one priority!”

And with that, a big grin on your face and a happy Kōshi! You knew your answer

You had to stop him going on a rant about being a shitty boyfriend before that though

→ kageyama tobio

You knew this was coming

he’s volleyball oriented!!!

between studying and extra practice, he totally forgot about you..which typing it out is bad

he’s reply to your messages late and when he did they were short

the amount of times you seen the ‘read’ at the bottom of your texts was honestly saddening

you decided to pull him at lunch, when you knew he would be at the vending machines

“tobio-chan!”

oh yeah, i have a s/o - tobio kageyama

“Hi (y/n)-chan”

you know he’s awkward with his words but the way he said it so..monotonely was upsetting.

“Tobio..do you still love me?” Cue kags choking on his milk

“W-what do you mean?!” Give him a few moments there’s currently milk in his lungs

“You never talk to me anymore and I don’t know..you just seem so disinterested in me now-a-days” the pout on your face paired with your big, glossy eyes was heartbreaking

Tobio’s obviously very awkward with words so verbal communication isn’t his forté, but he always tries his best to articulate his feelings

“I do love you (y/n)..I’m sorry if it seems like I don’t” he’s nervously scratching the back of his neck as he tries to find the right words “I’ll try my best from now on to be a better boyfriend..”

It’s kinda shit but it’s Tobio, that’s like a literature masterpiece coming from his mouth lmao

babes offers you the rest of his milk as an apology 🥺

→ kozume kenma

he’s most likely more focused on his games but let’s just say Kuroo’s busting his ass abt nationals so practice goes on longer and there’s less off days for him

usually every other day the team gets off but now the only day they get off is Friday

Even then Kuroo manages to get him to practice

There was a time you came over and Kuroo came in behind you and stole Kenma time from you 😡

anywhos, baby is booked and tired

he’s almost always falling asleep in class and during breaks he takes naps

so you never have time to talk to him

“Kenma, can I ask you something before you take a nap?” You ask bravely during lunch break

he nods sleepily

“Do you still love me?” Lemme tell you this boy WAKES tf up

“of course I do” he states so boldly

Kenma has a thing like Kageyama where he finds it little hard to communicate, but when he can find the right words to say he always uses a matter-of-face tone

he doesn’t even realise he’s using such a bold tone

tbh he kinda leaves it there until the end of the school day

“Kenma? Don’t you have practice?”

Boy has his gaming device TUCKED away just for you

“Let’s go to that cafe you like, then we can do something you want to do”

It doesn’t sound like much but if you know Kenma, he just stepped out of his comfort zone

“Kenma, are you sure? I’d be fine watching you play your games..”

He shakes his head with the cute small smile on his face “Today is your day”

→ hinata shōyō

hinata as we know is very volleyball oriented, just like his buddy

but i feel hinata would be more aware (?) that he hadn’t spoke to you for a while

so it would be a big shock if he hadn’t spoke to you

like he makes his best effort to try to talk to you but everyone time he tried to someone would take him away

“Shōyō! I need to talk to you”

“Can it be quick (y/n)? I only have ten minutes to get changed and go to practice!” Shōyō is doing his usual jumping and usually you would find it cute

if it weren’t for the pain in your heart (emo hours 😔)

“Shōyō.. do you still love me?”

poor baby looks like a kicked puppy when you ask that :(

but we all know he’s gonna have some dramatic speech lol

all you can make out of the fast ranting is “im sorry” , “I love you so much” and you’re pretty sure you heard Kageyama’s name in there somewhere

Shōyō is attacking you with such a big bear hug and honestly..I’d kill for one of them because I just know it has so much love in it

“i really can’t skip practice..but i can meet you after your club ends and we can go to my house! natsu misses you..”

you BET you agree because the NATSU Hinata misses you (best girl 🥺)

[pascalpanic]

Begin Again Part Two (Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

Inspo: Leaving, On A Jet Plane by John Denver

Summary: Marcus is terribly lonely while he’s away for a mission. So are you.

W/C: 3k

Warnings: language, that’s rlly it, it’s fluff but sad fluff

A/N: HI I rlly loved this fic and just had to do a second part! This chapter was inspired by Leaving On A Jet Plane by John Denver and I’d highly recommend listening to it while reading. Part three should be coming eventually too!

You toss and turn in bed for hours. Your bed, which has always been your place of comfort and rest, feels just as uncomfortable as a desk chair or a stool at your kitchen counter right now. You wonder what time it is in Singapore. What Marcus is doing.

It’s only been five days that he’s been gone. Five days since you even met him in person. Five days since you kissed him and cried and wrapped your arms around him, committing the feeling of his arms to memory because you knew you wouldn’t get it again for a very long time.

Those five days have been agony. The past few weeks for you have consisted of shooting Marcus texts here and there, a funny gif or a story from your workplace. Without him there, you don’t have your usual confidant, your entertainment, the person who makes your heart do backflips in his chest when he sends you a goofy selfie.

You roll over to check the time on your phone. In his absence, you’ve made one of those photos your lock screen. Some inner part of you fears you’ll forget the warm brown of his beautiful eyes, the sharp jaw and soft cheeks that define his beautiful face, if you don’t set it somewhere you can see it everyday. It’s 2 A.M. here in D.C., and you type into your phone to find Marcus is on the direct opposite side of the world from you. It’s 2 P.M. in Singapore for him.

What could he possibly be doing right now? You hope it’s nothing dangerous. Maybe some paperwork. Maybe he’s doing some searching of files, digitally or physically. Maybe he’s taking a coffee break. Maybe he’s thinking of you.

God, you hope he is. He’d discussed with you, during that late night over pancakes, how a mission usually went. He’s said there’s very little downtime. He’s lucky if he and a partner can sneak out for drinks once or twice a week. His odd hours remain the same, but translated to a different time zone.

Your eyes shut again as you try to force yourself to fall asleep. Nothing works, no matter how hard you focus your brain into nothingness. You grip your blankets tighter around yourself, groaning as you toss and turn for at least another twenty minutes.

Marcus is probably awake right now. You know he doesn’t have his cell phone, and a spam of texts to return to would surely bother him. All you want is to hear his voice, to talk to him about the last work week and how much you miss him.

Inspiration strikes, drawing you out of bed and to the small desk in your bedroom. You switch on the lamp, wincing at the brightness, but your eyes adjust quickly as you grab a patterned notebook and a colored ballpoint pen. On the top, in the big space above the condensed lines, you put the pen to the paper and begin.

Hi Marcus.

How’s Singapore? I hope things are going well. I don’t even know what you do with your art crimes stuff. Are you tracking criminals? Trying to infiltrate a ring? Whatever it is, I bet it’s a lot cooler than what’s going on here.

I’m bored and I miss you. It’s two in the morning right now which means it’s two in the afternoon for you. I’ve been tossing and turning for hours but I just can’t fall asleep. In all honesty, I’ve been thinking about you and how I can’t wait for you to get home. It’s impossible to me that I got to fall in love in a single night then you had to leave for a month, but life is weird like that, isn’t it? You give the best hugs I’ve ever had in my life and I could just use one right now.

I bet you’re a cuddler. You seem like the type. My bed is really comfy, but it feels too awkward tonight. Nothing feels right with my body. It’s like I’m not meant to be conscious of it, which probably means I need some sleep. I just keep thinking about cuddling you in my bed and then I can’t sleep because it’s nowhere near as good as being in your arms feels.

You don’t know how to finish it. Love? Sincerely? Instead, you sign your name at the bottom and shove it into an envelope. You label it to Marcus Pike at the FBI headquarters and even put a stamp and return address on it as a joke. He’ll like it when he gets back, you hope.

-

Singapore is lonely when you have nothing to do and practically no friends. It’s just him and Jane, who he doesn’t particularly enjoy. When they get free time, which is rare, he doesn’t want to spend his time with him. Instead, he sits in his room, with the crappy iPod Nano- yes, an iPod Nano, in the day and age of the iPhone 11- that they provided him with.

It has an extensive library, he’s realized. It’s got anything he could want as long as it’s in the relative mainstream- lots of new music, lots of old. He scrolls through, clicking past the Phil Collins and the Justin Bieber and the Nirvana. Quite the variety; He’s got to say he’s impressed. He finally comes across something by Billy Joel and relaxes, finally lying down on the stiff hotel bed.

He just thinks. He’s been doing a lot of that lately. Just reflecting and thinking, on himself, on the future, and oh god, you. Your smile, the one he really only got to see for a few hours that night, is plastered in his head like a poster in a teen boy’s room.

The song isn’t exactly peppy, but it’s not exactly slow and sad either. He sighs and focuses on the melody, looking at his watch for the date. He can’t tell you it, but he’s got four more weeks to go, or maybe sooner if they catch at least someone important in this ring. It’s been three weeks of agony. He wonders if you remember him.  He hopes you do. You said you would.

The next song after Billy Joel begins with soft guitar. Marcus thinks he recognizes it, but he isn’t sure. The words chime in and he recognizes it. It’s John Denver. Leaving on a Jet Plane.

So kiss me and smile for me

Tell me that you'll wait for me

Hold me like you'll never let me go

'Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane

Don't know when I'll be back again

Oh babe, I hate to go…

Ouch.

The lyrics sting in a way they never have before. Marcus pictures you cuddling Pancake, staring out the window. He imagines your smile, but knows in this image that it’s not there. You’re both cold and huddled into each other, thick fog coating the ground outside of your window.

Marcus is a grown ass man but tears well in the corners of his eyes, pricking heat and making his already dry contacts feel uncomfortable. He misses home. He misses his path he bikes on weekends and his bed and he misses you desperately. He misses texting you during the day and sending good nights and good mornings.

God, he needs to talk to you. Anything. Marcus stands up and walks out of his hotel room. He walks down the hall to the room he knows to be Jane’s, and knocks on the door. Hard. Bangs it, really.

Jane opens it, eyes tired. “What, Pike?”

“I know you have a cell phone. I need it.”

“That’s not allowed and you know it.”

“Then send a text for me,” he shakes his head, holding his arms out. “Please, it’s not hard. It won’t mean anything about the mission. You can read it.”

Jane frowns then lets Marcus in. From a safe in a hidden location in the closet, Jane removes a cell phone, an iPhone 4 to be exact. “Why do they fucking hate us here?” Marcus mumbles and goes to grab it.

“Ah,” Jane stops him. “I’m doing the typing. What’s the number?”

Anyone else and Marcus wouldn’t remember the number. They’re all saved in his phone; why would he know them by heart? But yours he memorized for this very reason. “Is there Spotify on there?”

“I’m sending a text for you, Pike,” Jane reminds him.

“Jesus Christ, you’re insufferable,” he grumbles. “I’m sending someone a link to a song. One I found on this damn thing,” he says and holds up the tiny Nano.

He gives in; how kind of him, Marcus thinks dryly. Jane looks and finds it. “What song?”

“Leaving On A Jet Plane. John Denver,” he says plainly, leaving no emotion that could allow Jane to detect the reasoning behind it.

Jane raises an eyebrow but finds the song, copying the link. “Number?”

Marcus recites it to him, to a rhythm, the way he remembered it.

“What do you want it to say besides the link?” He asks.

He thinks on it for a second. He really wants to send Agent Pancakes, so you know it’s him, but he knows that’s not something he wants to tell the man. An abbreviation would work, he supposes. “AP. As the signature. Just the link and AP in another line.”

Once again, Jane raises an eyebrow. He knows that’s not the man’s initials, he’s not an idiot; he wonders what it means. “I have to know that this doesn’t relate to a mission, Marcus. AP could be crucial information to someone back home.”

Marcus blushes and looks down. “Just use it.”

“No.”

“Fucking fine,” Marcus grunts, flustered and red. “Agent Pancakes. My girl calls me that. That’s how she’ll know it’s me.”

Jane almost smiles at that. He nods and typed that in instead, sending it off. “There. Done.”

“Thanks,” he says begrudgingly and stalks off to his room.

-

It’s 10 P.M. for Marcus in Singapore. That makes it 10 A.M. for you in D.C.

The text comes on a sunny spring afternoon. It’s nearly out of spring now, but that means it’s starting to get hot. But today is beautiful. It’s mild and breezy, flowers sprouting everywhere. Enchanting. You want to walk through it holding hands with Marcus, who’s exactly halfway across the globe.

You’re out for a walk through an open-air farmer’s market in the area when your phone buzzes. Mindlessly, you check it, like you always do when it dings. The message is from an unknown number. Odd. There’s a link.

You don’t open the link yet, but you open the text. What you find was that there was a cutoff on the text when your phone was locked. You missed something vital.

Agent Pancakes

You nearly drop your phone, heart picking up. It’s from Marcus, who you haven’t heard from in several weeks. Oh thank God, he’s safe at least, you think, opening the link now.

It leads you to Spotify. Your phone begins playing a song: Leaving On A Jet Plane. You know the song by heart, but you listen to it. This is the first message Marcus could send to you. You know it means something.

So kiss me and smile for me

Tell me that you'll wait for me

Hold me like you'll never let me go…

The hand not holding your phone flies to cover your mouth. A mixture of emotions floods your body: happiness, sadness, and pure love. You cry too, clutching the phone to your chest.

People walk around you, glaring at the way you block the sidewalk, but you don’t care. You’re too content, too happy to know he’s safe and that most of all, he misses you. He’s thinking of you too.

You don’t know if he can receive texts on this number, but you have to try.

You: I miss you. Please stay safe and let me know when you’re coming home? Even if it’s an hour’s warning, I’ll take it. I hope the mission’s going okay. Pancake can’t wait to meet you. I can’t wait to hug you.

Whether or not it’ll ever get to him, you’re not sure, but the happiness that he’s given you will surely last you until the next contact. You’ll make it last.

-

The letter you sent did make it to the FBI headquarters, and even to Pike���s desk. When one of his coworkers walked past, she spotted it and brought it to one of his bosses. “Can you forward this to Pike in Singapore?” She’d asked.

He hadn’t thought it through that far, but why the hell not? Within a few days, the letter ends in Marcus Pike’s hands.

He wakes to see mail slid under the door: that’s certainly something different. He picks up the envelope, stamped with US shipping and international labels. It’s a creamy white with purple ink, with a carefully written Marcus Pike.

No one sends him mail, really, and it’s certainly not his mother’s handwriting. He finds an edge and slides his finger through to rip the envelope at the seam.

Taking the paper out, he admires the lines and the indents from the writing on the other side. He unfolds the tri-folded paper and his eyes immediately catch your name on the bottom. He grins, unable to hold himself back from laughing in surprise.

Marcus takes his time to read the letter, savoring every word written in that purple ballpoint pen. Your handwriting is another aspect about you he’d never been able to see, and it feels extremely special and painstakingly human. It’s you on paper, and he can’t get enough.

He reads it once then twice then for yet a third time. He can’t get the words out of his head; dammit, he might get this tattooed on his body someday. His fingers run over the paper, feeling the indents from your writing.

Marcus falls asleep with your letter in his hands. He knows he can’t write one back. Hell, he could barely text you something. Still, as he falls asleep, he drafts the letter he’d send you in response. On the bottom of the page, he’d write a big, flourishing, cursive I love you in orange ink. Yeah, he means it already. He’s always been known to fall hard and fast, but this seals the deal. Marcus is in love.

-

You write more letters to Marcus when you can’t sleep. You send them all to his office. It’ll be a fun thing for him to read when he gets home, won’t it? It helps you process anyway.

Over the next few weeks, he receives a letter every other day or so. He collects them, stuffs them in a vinyl folder neatly, labels them with the date he received them and keeps them in chronological order.

God, Marcus suddenly appreciates the plot of War and Peace that much more. He feels like Natasha, lovestruck over letters promising the world. But you’re certainly no Anatole, and he knows it. He clings to the letters when he misses home. They’re the only slice of it he gets besides the asshole he’s working with and the other workers.

-

It takes so fucking long. Marcus thinks he’s in agony. He can’t respond to you, and that breaks his heart. Now that Jane indulged him once, he refuses to do so again. No more texts, certainly no phone calls, nothing. All he has is that goddamn iPod Nano and Leaving On A Jet Plane and your letters.

He goes to bed agitated now. He’s sick of it, ready to be done and go home and maybe even take a nice long vacation from the FBI. Somewhere warm, somewhere with you.

He grinds out the work during the day. He goes undercover in the streets. He does his best and everything he can, connecting dots he doesn’t know work just to see if there’s a chance they do. He looks like a crazy conspiracy theorist, but they nudge closer to the ring by millimeters every day.

Then they catch the second-in-command. He’s wanted by the Singapore authorities; they have the right to take him into custody. Marcus helps interrogate him. They get little information directly from him, but several key things from slip ups in his testimonies and arguments.

That takes longer than he wanted. A week or so passes of interrogating the man, getting whatever they can out of him. Finally, something cracks and the information they’ve been searching for comes. Well, enough information to send the Americans home.

Jane buys the drinks that night, for the Americans and Singaporeans and the other agents from various organizations. They all celebrate and eat well and laugh and party. Marcus sneaks out early, returning to his room. When he enters, he sees a box on the bed. It’s small, rectangular. He’s confused and wanders closer. Upon opening it, he finds a flip phone. Looks like the technology ban is over.

The first thing he does is dial your number. It’s late at night here, meaning it must be the middle of the day there. God, he hopes you’re not busy.

You remembered what Marcus said before he left: answer any unknown phone numbers. You’ve been doing that for the two months he’s been gone, and it’s brought you quite a lot of spam calls, but you’ve never given up. You’re on a work break when he calls and you pick it up anyway. “Hello?”

The sound of your voice. It’s so beautiful Marcus could cry. He does tear up a little bit, nearly sniffling into the microphone.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” You ask.

It’s silent for just a beat longer before you hear what you’ve been waiting for. Marcus. “Hey. It’s me.”

“Marcus?” You exclaim, though you know the sound of his voice even through the tinny, shitty phone.

“Yeah,” he laughs happily and runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, it’s me, baby.”

You practically whoop like you’re on a roller coaster, giggling into the phone. “Oh my god. Oh my god, hi.”

“Hi, babe,” he laughs. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“I’m coming home.”

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain @tacticalsparkles @queridopascal @wintermuteway @maievdenoir @dobbyjen

[rreyie]

𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧- 𝙖𝙤𝙩 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: niccolo calls you down to the kitchen to ask you to sample a new kind of meat. i think you know where this is going.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: smut! oral sex (both receiving), fem! reader, unedited work, kinda short lmao

𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: smut/nsfw

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨: niccolo, reader insert

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: there’s literally no stories with niccolo on here and that upsets me.... well i am now here to turn that around 😏 i was debating if instead of the reader i would put sasha but i think i’m better at character x reader than character x character

——————————————————————————

you entered the spacious kitchen niccolo owned, as the scent of fresh bread wafted around the room. the scent was inhaled through your nose, mouth watering as you could practically taste it.

niccolo was leaning against the counter, wavy blonde hair parted in the middle as his apron was tied unusually tightly around him. flour was dusted along the red apron, creating small white patches on the fabric.

“what are you doing up at this hour?” you asked. “an even better question, why do you want me down here at 11:30 at night?” you referred to the note that he had left on your bed, asking you to report to the kitchen to taste something he had made.

“well if you’re here then you already know”, he responded. his hazel eyes nervously looked around the room as he desperately tried to think of something to say without being awkward. “i was wondering if you could help me taste a special kind of meat i cooked up.” he gulped.

your eyes lit up. “really? then why don’t you want anyone else down here tonight? why only me?”

niccolos cheeks turned a bit red. “because this meat is reserved for you.”

what the fuck does he mean, meat only reserved for me? you ask yourself.

well, your question was answered as soon as you noticed a bump form in the area between niccolos legs, covered by the fabric. his print showed, eager for attention.

your face turns red like a ripe tomato. you also notice that his arms and legs were bare, indicating that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath that apron.

“w-why aren’t you wearing anything underneath that?” you ask him.

“well, i asked you to taste some meat, didn’t i?” he asked. he walks over to you, and cups your cheek. his print presses against your stomach, feeling the bulge harden upon contact.

he presses his lips against yours, swirling his tongue around your mouth, admiring the pleasant taste that was on your lips. you kiss him back, feeling his lips that were softer than butter itself.

“ready to be my taste tester, y/n?”

“i’d love to.”

niccolo fiddled with the straps that tied arond his wast and neck, the apron promptly falling to his knees.

your eyes immediately fall upon what’s in between his legs. he’s already hard, the tip a flushed pink and his shaft a pale peach color. niccolo smirks as he watches you observe his dick.

“like what you see?” he asks as he pulls you closer to him again. you nod, and niccolo grabs your chin.

“good, now start tasting.”

he shoves you downwards, falling on your knees as he looks down on you expectantly.

your hand moves to his cock, and wraps around it as you feel the stiff and soft flesh that your hand is currently enveloping. you had no idea how niccolo’s dick was that soft.

another thing you began to question was how you were going to fit his fat cock in your mouth. he had to be at least 8 inches, with some pretty outstanding girth.

you move your hand up and down loosely as you feel niccolo twitch, and let out a groan.

you create a bit of saliva in your mouth and spit on his cock, and use both hands to rub it up and down his shaft so your hands could glide a bit easier.

after jerking him for a bit of time, a little bit of pre cum begins to form at his tip that has went from pink to red. you press your thumb over his tip and give it a gentle rub. a small gasp escapes from his throat as you rub his tip a few more times.

eventually, you guide his swollen cock into your mouth, giving it a few kitten licks on the way in. you begin to bob your head, feeling his shaft against the slick walls of your mouth.

“h-holy shit...” niccolo stammers. “just like that, please... oh my god...”

you give him a grin as you look up at him with doe eyes, trying to look as innocent as you possibly can.

as niccolo looked back into your eyes, he couldn’t help but buck his sturdy hips, shoving his cock further into the back of your throat. you gag, unprepared for that amount of impact.

“shit, sorry”, he says as you cough. “did that hurt?”

“no, i’m fine”, you say. “actually, it’s fine if you do that, it’s... kind of hot. face fuck me if you want to-“

niccolo doesn’t need another word. he thrusts his hips into your mouth, earning a muffled moan from you. he fills your poor mouth up to the brim, fat cock taking up every inch of space in your mouth. the tip of him repeatedly hits the back of your throat as your toes curl.

“you feel... so- good...” he stutters, as he continues to face fuck you mercilessly, at this point not caring if he’s making you gag or choke on him. “y-you’re gonna make me cum...”

you would respond, but as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. you wouldn’t dare pull away from him as he’s so close. you only hum in response, the hum sounding a bit more like a moan. this pushes him further to the edge as adrenaline rushes through his veins.

his thrusts turn sloppy as he come closer to the end, numerous grunts coming from his mouth.

“ah- oh my go- ngh! i’m gonna- ahh...” he groans raspily as he cries your name one last time before releasing his load into your mouth. your mouth is now filled with both niccolos cock and his thick cum.

he pulls out, dick now coated in a mixture of saliva and his own cum. no matter how hard you try, you just couldn’t swallow it all down. a bit of cum spills out of your mouth as you force it down your throat.

niccolos breath softens as he looks you in the eyes.

“you’re a natural, eh?” he asks you.

“if that’s what you want to call it”, you reply.

he chuckled. “guess i should return the favor now, i’m just not sure if i’m as good as you.”

(breaking news! he’s wrong. very, very wrong.)

“that... would be nice.”

he lifts you up onto the counter as the cold surface is felt on your ass. niccolo is quick to pull down your pants, afterwards, the white blouse that you’re wearing is quickly discarded onto the floor. at this point, you’re clad in only your bra and panties.

niccolo pushes your legs apart, and pushes your panties, soaked in your arousal, aside. his eyes widen as he stares at your womanhood.

“you’re wet...” he says. “did i really make you that turned on?”

you nod. he makes quick work of his tongue as he places it in between your slick folds, eventuallly sliding it in your hole.

“ni-niccolo!” you gasp. he looks up at you with his hazel orbs, blonde hair all in his face. he gives you a smug smile, and speeds up his pace.

his tongue approaches your clit and gives it a little flick or two, and circles his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves. your legs buckle from the pleasure.

his tongue dives into your folds again and licks every fold you have, savoring the taste you provide him. eventually, his tongue once again plunged into your hole, sliding in and out repeatedly.

you tug his blonde locks as he goes in deeper and deeper, and the burn in your stomach turns into a fire. your legs twitch uncontrollably as you feel yourself nearing your end.

you whine as you feel the fire in your stomach take over your entire body, the sensation taking over you as you come on niccolos face. a sting of moans escapes from your mouth, crying out for niccolo to keep going and to help you through the orgasm. you feel your juices sliding down your pussy as niccolo laps them up like a kitten.

“you tasted wonderful”, he said. leaning against you on the cold granite counter, he kisses you again so you can taste yourself on his tongue. something pokes at your thigh, and as you look down, niccolo is already hard again.

“dammit”, he scoffs. “got a boner again. up for round two?”

giggling, you get on your knees once again and help him take care of his little problem.

[yamalegacy]

can you do nsfw headcanons with mt lady please?

can i? can i do n/sfw hcs for one of my favourite characters? of fucking course i am! and i will happily do so bc i'm big time horned monster for lil miss mt lady! and well, since i didn't know where to start, in true super extra french fashion, went overboard and finished the n/sfw alphabet for her 💛

i’d already done a, d, l, m, t, y but i added them to this post so that i can have a full alphabet in one post!

cw: mentions of dom/sub dynamics, rough sex, threesomes, dry humping, finger sucking and slight oral fixation probably, mentions of so many things tbh. yū is a brat. also, pubic hair and stretch marks? idk man

⚠️ MDNI not so casual reminder for minors to not interact with this post ⚠️

A — AFTERCARE ( what are they like after sex? )

she is a bottom through and through and a pillow princess, so get ready to have to take care of her because she gets even lazier than usual after a good fuck. she can get whiny and demanding, asking for a bath or tea or both, but you’ll always be rewarded with cuddles and kisses. if she doesn’t fall asleep, that is.

B — BODY PART ( which body part do they like the most? )

big time ass and thighs girl right here. she enjoys a handful (or two handfuls, you know), girl loves a shapely ass that feels nice in her hands. she can’t keep her hands off of a nice ass.

C — CUM ( any headcanon about cum )

she complains a lot about basically all things cum related at first lbr, not to the point of complaining about going down on you (well, depending on how much you come, really...). it’ll take a while for yū to accept to kiss you after you eat her out, but you’ll catch her moaning at the taste of her own arousal more than once. and well. maybe sucking on your fingers after you fucked her turns her on a whole fucking lot. don’t expect her to admit it out loud tho.

D — DREAMS ( do they have sex dreams? what kind? how do they react? )

fairly regular kinky dreamland visitor. yū hates her sex dreams though. she always wakes up just when things are getting good, so she wakes up wet, needy and desperate every time. if you aren’t sleeping together that night, she’ll send you messages to complain, or even call you, hoping for a quickie over the phone. if you’re in her bed, she won’t care what time it is, she’ll wake you up and demand that you make her come. if you ignore her and go back to sleep, be ready to deal with a grumpy pro hero all day long (poor kamui woods has heard her complain about it way too many times and wishes he could forget everything she’s told him, especially that one time she dreamed about a threesome with you and him).

E — EXPERIENCE ( how much experience do they have? )

a lot less than you’d expect her to. yū is still young and she’s been extremely busy trying to become a pro hero so she hasn’t had that much time to experiment. she’s had a few partners, but it’s mostly been vanilla experiences for her.

F — FAVORITE POSITION ( what is their favorite sex position? )

she likes when things are close and personal, so missionary is always good with her, honestly. she loves being able to see your face and kiss you when you fuck her. yū also enjoys being bent over your lap, so that you can fuck her with your fingers and pull at her hair — learn how to multi-task, my friend, and she’ll be putty in your hands.

G — GRAB ( where do they like to have their hands on you the most? )

ass ass ass. thighs. ass. there’s very few things that yū loves more than a good ass and she will never stop touching it when it’s within her reach. when she is acting jealous or possessive, she tends to grab you by the wrists. if she’s still feeling possessive when you get home, she will crawl on top of you and keep her fingers wrapped around your wrists for a while, and then intertwine your fingers. yū has a habit of squeezing, it’s a way for her to make sure that you’re there, with her, that you aren’t going to go away.

H — HOT & BOTHERED ( what are they like when turned on? )

oh boy. is she a wild one! no matter what, she will be needy, but it might manifest in two very different ways. 1) she’ll give you the cold shoulder and pretend that she totally isn’t horny and desperate, she’s stubborn like that, but she sucks at hiding those things from you; she always presses her thighs together, that’s her biggest tell 2) she’ll just outright initiate intimacy, kiss your neck, straddle your lap and grind on your thigh.

I — INTIMACY ( how caring are they during/after sex? )

yū isn’t exactly the most gentle of lovers in general, even outside of your sex life. she is good with gentle touches, like caressing you, touching your hair, but when it comes to sex... little miss pillow princess expects you to take care of her. and she can be pretty demanding about it. but her habit of holding your hands is one of the ways she shows she cares.

J — JACK OFF ( any masturbation headcanon )

when adrenaline sets down after a day at work, yū needs the release more than anything, it’s also a really good way for her to relieve some stress. being a pro hero isn’t easy every day after all! she tends to want to make it quick because she doesn’t have all that much patience, which is exactly why she avoids penetration when touching herself; she’s all about rubbing her clit and vibrators — and she knows how to make it rough and quick.

K — KINK ( favorites? which ones do they keep secret? )

(semi) public sex, edging, overstimulation and multiple orgasms. dominance and any display of dominance that might be associated with a dom/sub dynamic, really. yū is a sub and it shows. she’ll complain about orgasm control because she’s not getting the release she needs, but it’s one of her favorite things. she has a bit of an oral fixation, bit of an obsession with sucking your fingers and licking them clean after you’ve fucked her, but she... well, she doesn’t want to admit it tho. it’s not that much of a secret since it’s become extremely obvious to you. on the other hand, she wouldn’t mind trying some roleplay/petplay and a bit more of degradation, but she sure af would mind saying it out-loud.

L — LOCATION ( what is their favorite place to have sex? )

being the pillow princess that she is, yū will always favor a comfortable bed over anything else, but it doesn’t mean that she doesn’t enjoy sex in other places. the two of you have become well acquainted with the couch at her agency (which has led to some awkward situations when you realized too late that you weren’t actually alone in the building).

M — MOTIVATION ( what turns them on? )

extremely sensitive and painfully easy to turn on. you barely have to try to turn her on most of the time, really. run your fingers on her inner thighs, grab her by the waist, whisper in her ear about what you want to do to her and she’ll be ready to go. yū will complain a lot if you do it in public, but that’s only because it gets her turned on in record time! hearing your voice, your praises, spurs her on better than anything else.

N — NOPE ( any turn offs or hard limits? )

she is a bit claustrophobic and her quirk makes it dangerous for her to feel trapped, which is why you have a safeword. she doesn’t like being handcuffed or tied down unless she knows she has an easy way out. she likes when you sit on her face, but not for too long, for the same reasons.

O — ORAL ( do they like giving or receiving? a preference? )

yū is an oral enthusiast, of course. she prefers receiving (she isn’t a pillow princess for no reason), but she enjoys pleasing you and being good for you, so there’s not a doubt she enjoys going down on you.

P — PACE ( fast or slow? )

her impatience makes it harder for her to enjoy slow at times. she wants it hard and fast (partly because it’s much easier than dealing with feelings). and well, when you take it slow and edge her... she is so sensitive that she’s come without permission on accident more than once because she just can’t control it. fast is easier because then she knows you just expect her to come.

Q — QUICKIE ( are they up for a quickie? )

always. all the time. never not up for a quickie.

R — ROMANCE ( do they like romantic gestures to set the mood? )

while she likes the idea on paper, the whole concept of taking the time to enjoy the moment, have nice scented candles and a warm bath, and she might put some effort into it when she has days off tbh. but it’s mt lady we’re talking about, you should know better than to expect all that romance fantasy! yū still knows how to surprise you from time to time.

S — STAMINA ( how long can they last? )

yū is a pro hero. she has years of training behind her and regularly works up to stay in shape, so she definitely has the stamina to go several rounds! but depending on how tiring her day has been. honestly, she might not make it to a first orgasm one some days, but those are rare occasions.

T — TALK ( what is their dirty talk like? )

yū isn’t necessarily the best with words; she’s all for kisses and touches. but if you’re touching her the right way, she’ll tell you how good you are. she won’t hesitate to tell you that she’s all yours and that she’s wet just for you.

U — UNFAIR ( how much do they tease? )

this woman. she knows your weaknesses, she knows what turns you on, what makes you want her the most. she likes to provoke more than to really tease; she wears the outfits that you love the most on her, the cute bras that push her tits up just right, the pretty sets of lingerie that she’s bought to look nice for you. if she’s feeling mean, she’ll swat your hands away when you try to touch her, but honestly, it won’t last long because. well. once again, yū is extremely impatient and there’s no much that can be done about it.

V — VOLUME ( how loud are they? )

makes a lot of noises but isn’t super loud in general. moans and whines, a lot of them. she makes the prettiest noises, honestly.

W — WILD CARD

you can't tell me that with her quirk she doesn't have stretch marks. she kinda hates them and is glad that her hero costume hides them, but seriously, just take a minute to kiss them and run your fingers over them. funnily enough, while she hates her own stretch marks, she could spend hours appreciating yours.

X — X-RAY ( any headcanon about their bodies and grooming habits )

yū takes really good care of herself and her body — she doesn’t like to shave everything off when it comes to her pubic hair, she keeps it clean and trimmed tho. she has very nice ethics when it comes to her appearance. shaves, no waxing, she hates the idea of having to go to a salon and have a stranger touch her, even if it’s their job.

Y — YEARNING ( how desperate do they tend to be? )

mt. lady is queen of yearning. she’s also queen of pretending that she doesn’t miss you all the time. if work takes over her life for a few days and she can’t see you for a while, you can expect her to just be glued to you the second she sees you again. she’ll be extra needy and probably want to ride your thigh. she wouldn’t be able to let you go. and yet she’ll try (and fail) to pretend like she didn’t miss you and wasn’t desperate to feel you again.

Z — ZZZZ… ( how quickly do they fall asleep? )

well... it’s happened a few times that she fell asleep embarrassingly quickly after an orgasm... let’s say you’ve stopped counting how many times she’s fallen asleep with your fingers in her mouth.