#like letting most of everything go in one ear and out the next

[cybermannete]

the office. - mac

I LOVE MAC SM THEY WERE THE FIRST ONE I ROMANCED IN THE GAME OK HERE IS A FIC NOW IM ON 200 MG OF CAFFEINE

(contains: some nice, casual flirting with mac, mutual feelings, mentions of "the office" since ive been watching it for the millionth time)

border credit: @enchanthings-a

"Are you seriously watching 'The Office' again?" Mac's voice cut through your ears, interrupting your small enrichment time after your taxing day at work. After being let go from Valdivian, you took on a classic 9-5 job working a help desk. It sucked, but the bills were getting paid and you were eating. Isn't that what matters most?

You sigh as you lean back in your computer chair, your leftover pasta sitting eagerly in your hands. Despite your deep rooted exhaustion from dealing with people all day and staring at the blue light of both your work computer and your home computer, you managed to crack a smile towards Mac, who was gazing at you with a teasing look in their eyes. "I am." You answered, nodding slowly. "Is that an issue?"

Mac rolled their eyes playfully, leaning their head over your shoulder. "I should have known. You have over 1,000 hours alone on The Office. 500 on Friends, too." You felt your cheeks flush red almost in embarrassment as Mac read out the statistics of your viewing habits.

You laugh nervously, "I'm sure it was because I uhm.. left the tab open when I went to bed.." You were grabbing at straws, trying to make yourself look not as uninteresting or boring as those statistics said you were. So what if you rewatched the same show over and over again? It was like a cup of hot chicken noodle soup on a cold day.

Mac laughed, shaking their head as they flicked your forehead playfully. "Mm, I don't think so there, babe." They winked. "I was watching you the whole time, and you were right there watching intently. You were even quoting it to yourself when you thought no one was listening."

Your eyes widened a bit, and you gasped, swatting Mac's hand away. "Wh- Mac! Come onnnn!" You whined a bit as you leaned your head back against the back of her chair. Mac had an amused grin on their face, finding themselves entranced by how you embarrassed you were. You huff. "You can understand though, right?? It's a good show!"

Mac went quiet, and their cheeks tinted pink. Were they.. embarrassed? But why? What reason would Mac have to be..

".. Oh my God. You've never seen it."

Mac winced, wringing their hands as they leaned back in their chair. "Welllll.. I-"

You continued on, "What?! How?! You're my computer, you know absolutely everything I do on there!"

Mac then got a smirk on their face. "Guess I was too busy looking at you to pay attention to what you were watching."

Now it was your turn to get flustered. You feel your ears and cheeks burn hot as you stared slack jawed at Mac, and their half lidded eyes and cute grin on their face. You huffed, pointing to the empty spot next to you. "Get over here. You're watching this with me from the beginning."

Mac groaned, "Do I HAVE to?" They still kept a playful tone in their voice.

You said nothing, only raising your eyebrows in a scolding manner as you forcefully pointed your finger to where you wanted them to move their wheelchair. Eventually, Mac breathed an overdramatic sigh as they moved to sit next to you, watching as you worked on your computer to restart the show from the very beginning.

Deep down, they resisted the urge to smirk and laugh at the fact their little lie worked and now you two were going to be spending a LOT of time together.

[confessionsandcreampies]

m. bachira relationship headcanons

“you’re my muse!!”—this man doodles you everywhere. on napkins, shoes, notebook margins. one day you find a little cartoon you in his training shoes with a speech bubble saying, “kick their butts, meguru!” and he goes, “you’re my luck charm, duh.”

velcro boyfriend to the max—if you’re standing still for more than 0.2 seconds, he’s on you. wrapped around you. chin on your head. hands in your pockets. “i missed you,” he whines, literally two minutes after you came out of the shower.

makes you try weird drink combos—he walks up to you with the most heinous mix of juice and soda and goes, “try it! i call it megu-slime!” and if you gag he just laughs, drinks it himself, and then kisses you on the lips while saying, “there! now you tasted it anyway!”

play-fights over everything—who showers first. who picks the movie. who stole the last dumpling. he pokes your sides, chases you around the apartment, pins you to the couch like “ha! i win!”—and then just lays on you until you both fall asleep.

tells people you’re his other brain cell—he literally introduces you like, “this is my girlfriend! she helps me make good life choices and reminds me not to eat crayons!”

switchy little menace—one second he’s begging you to ride him while gripping your thighs like you’re a goddess, and the next he’s got your wrists pinned over your head and he’s panting, “look at you. so messy already. you like it when i go feral, huh?”

loves when you taste sweet—you wear strawberry lip gloss? he’s licking it off your lips before you even say hi. eat something sugary? he’s trailing kisses down your neck whispering, “you’re so sweet, i could eat you for dessert.”

oral fixation and obsession—he loves going down on you more than anything. licks, sucks, moans like he’s high off your taste. “stay still,” he murmurs, tongue flicking just right. “i’m not done yet. not till you scream.”

he asks to take nudes of you—he wants you sprawled across the bed, wearing his jersey or nothing at all, and lets out this low groan when he looks through the pics after. “you’re art, babe,” he says, then gets hard again from just looking at you.

absolute filth talker when he gets into it—“you like being stuffed full, don’t you?”—“look at you, soaking wet for me,my pretty little monster.”—“you make the dirtiest noises. i’m so obsessed with you it’s scary.”

finishes inside, always—he lives to feel you clench around him when he’s close. groans into your ear, “gonna fill you up… mark you up so good… so no one else even thinks about touching you.”

snuggles while still inside—aftercare? he kisses every inch of you. and if you’re cuddled up after? he’s still inside you. lazy little smile. “don’t move yet. you feel nice. let’s stay like this forever.”

[spookysanta]

Chapter 8: Morning Glory & Missed Messages

Ongoing tags: [Modern Romance] [Slow Burn] to [Fireworks [Black!Reader] [Younger!Reader] [Reader is That Girl] [Obsessed Michael™] [So Much Eye Contact] [Vacation Fling] turns into [Something Real]

Potential TW/CW: [Swearing] [Light Sexual Tension] to [Eventual Smut]

Read Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7.

yeaaaaah get into it! three-day work week this week + a shit ton of ideas + lots of drafts = a lot of shit coming your way! we're gonna keep on trucking with more of the checklist fics - "payback (with interest)." is next. v excited with the nastiness that'll ensue in that fic. make sure you got fresh draws on. or no draws. whatever you'd prefer.

You woke up slow. Still tangled in him. Still quite sore. But in that sweet, stretched-out way. Still drunk on the way he held you even after everything, like his arms were your address now.

His chest rose and fell against your cheek, his fingers tracing lazy shapes along the curve of your spine. There wasn’t any rush, no tension. Just the kind of morning that felt earned.

“You awake?” he murmured, breaking the morning’s quiet.

“Barely.”

“Wanna sleep more?”

You shook your head. “Don’t wanna miss this.”

He smiled, kissing your shoulder. “What’s this?”

“Us…The morning…You…Not letting me go yet.”

He hummed gently as a reply. The two of you laid there for a while – mumbles about everything that followed after today.

Upcoming flights, work schedules, and most importantly, what came next. “I want to see you soon,” he said with a knowing sigh. “Like next-week soon.”

“I want that too.”

“You fly home tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll come to you Sunday. That cool?”

You smiled. “That fast?”

He kissed your shoulder again, chuckling at your surprise, but also knowing you couldn’t say no to him. “Duh. I’ll have waited long enough already.”

The rest of the morning morphed into the two of you getting dressed, beginning with a shared shower – steam filling the bathroom in a warm haze, hands smoothing over soapy skin, slow kisses, wet fingers, and his voice in your ear like warm velvet.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, holding your face in his hands. “I swear I could wash you every day.”

You giggled, fingers wrapped around his waist, the steam not being the only heat against your cheeks. “You’re so dramatic.”

He couldn't help but chuckle, “You’re laughin’ but I was dead serious.”

He turned the water off, helping you out of the shower before wrapping you both in towels that could only be described as clouds against your skin. You stood side-by-side as you brushed your teeth, bumping his hip with yours when he tried to kiss your cheek with toothpaste foaming around his mouth.

The two of you climbed back into bed and he called downstairs to order room service – pancakes, bacon, fruit, eggs, tea, coffee, extra hash browns “just in case”. But the moment the room’s phone hit the receiver, your phone started buzzing.

You snorted as you scrolled through your notifications, fingers typing fast before anyone freaked out (even more than they already were, apparently).

You had barely hit send when the screen lit up again: 

tatiannaaaaaaaa rennaye wants to FaceTime you.

You groaned.

Michael looked over, brows furrowing in concern. “Everything okay?”

“My friends think I’m either kidnapped or dead.”

“Tell them I’m ordering eggs.”

You answered, instinctively rolling your eyes, but choosing to put a smile in your voice. “Hi.”

“Girl,” Tati snapped. “We almost sent a wellness check.”

“I’m fine. I slept in.”

“You slept with your whole soul,” she said. “Send proof of life.”

You flipped the camera, pointing it at Michael, who was shirtless and sitting cross-legged on the bed with his phone in one hand, his other hand brushing the small of your back.

Tati blinked. “Okay, I’ll allow it,” she responded in satisfaction. “You can stay a little longer.”

“Thanks, Mom.” you replied with a laugh, saying your goodbyes as a knock rapped against the suite’s door.

You both ate breakfast in bed, sharing bites, fruit from his fork, and soft silence broken only by tiny laughs and syrupy moans over the pancakes.

And after breakfast, he helped you gather your things while he gathered his own. He tied his your hoodie drawstring nice and tight, in the way that he’s come to know you loved. 

He pressed a kiss to your temple, holding your hand all the way down to the lobby for checkout.

—

The ride back to your hotel was quiet. Not sad. Just full. It was like both of you were already counting down to when you’d see each other again.

As he’d been doing, he walked you to your suite; and before you opened the door, he turned to you. “I can take y’all to the airport, if you want. Help y’all save a bit of money on Uber.” he mumbled.

You sighed, appreciating the gesture but not wanting to have to go to the airport at all. “Yeah… I think that’d be nice.”

He nodded, leaning in and kissing your cheek, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you into him. “Sounds good.”

“Don’t let us oversleep.”

“Yes ma’am. I’ll be outside at eight.”

“Got it.”

Then, gently, like he couldn’t help it, he peppered kissed against your forehead. “Bye, baby.”

When you unlocked the suite’s door and shut it behind you, four women stared you down like you’d walked in wearing a wedding dress.

“You made it!” Nas cheered, secretly eyeing the hickey that bloomed against the collar of the hoodie you were wearing.

“Unkidnapped,” Lex added.

“You smell like sin,” Kris noted. “…and pancakes.”

You dropped your bag. “I need to lay down.”

“No,” Tati said. “Your ass needs to pack. We’re leaving in the morning.”

You groaned. “I just came back.”

“Girl,” Nas said, “you left.”

And once again, like clockwork, the suite was full of laughter, of voices, of rustling bags, of rolling suitcases and shared mirrors and the sound of the last day beginning.

The sun dipped low around seven. Golden light poured in through the windows as the suite buzzed with motion — curling irons back on the counters, open suitcases half-packed, outfit pieces flying across the couch like nobody was actually ready to go.

“We said casual,” Nas reminded as Tati tugged on a strapless jumpsuit and posed in the mirror like she was going to a red carpet.

“This is casual,” Tati replied. “For me.”

“I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt,” you said from the bathroom, one brow arched.

“That’s because you’re glowing,” Kris cut in, smirking from the edge of the bed. “You could show up in a paper bag and still outshine all of us.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue, because she was right. You were glowing. You still had a little bit of that warmth in your thighs, that softness in your chest.

—

The rooftop club was quiet this time of night. Not empty, just relaxed – groups scattered in corners, music playing low from someone’s phone speaker. You found a spot by the balcony, a perfect view of the city below, the skyline glittering in the distance.

And of course, drinks were ordered. Fries were set in the middle of the table. Phone cameras were flashing from every angle.

“Okay, everyone hold still,” Lex said, angling her camera in her selfie stick that she forgot she’d packed. “Golden hour is giving.”

Tati leaned in. Kris lifted her glass. Nas kissed Lex’s cheek. You smiled without trying.

Click.

Click.

Click.

And for a moment, it all felt suspended, like this could stretch out forever if you let it. No one brought up flights or suitcases or the fact that you’d be going to bed in a different city this time tomorrow.

Everyone just… existed. In the shimmer. In the sound. In the love.

—

Back in the suite, the noise of the night quieted as you crossed the threshold. People trudged to different parts of the suite – almost testing to see if time would move slower if they did. 

Lex was packing, softly humming. Nas was editing the night’s photos. Tati and Kris were debating whether or not to order room service dessert.

You slipped into your bedroom, your phone in hand, thumb hovering over the contact.

You didn’t even have to press anything before your phone lit up.

michael b. jordan (no seriously) is calling you…

You answered fast, like you’d been waiting. “Hey.”

His voice came through low and warm. “Hi, pretty girl.”

You exhaled.

“How was the night?” he asked.

“Perfect.” you sighed in contentment, slipping your clothes off to change into pajamas consisting of a shirt that you may or may not have borrowed from his duffel bag. You sat on the bed, leaning back against the headboard.

“You eat?”

“Mhm.”

“What’d you have?”

“We shared a plate of fries and a bottle of wine and took, like, thirty pictures in front of string lights.”

He chuckled. “That sounds like heaven.”

“It kinda was.”

There was a pause after that. You weren’t sure why your throat felt tight, but it made you afraid to speak.

And of course, he noticed. “You okay?”

You blinked hard, feeling your eyes well up, wiping your cheeks as tears started to fall. “Yeah.”

“You sure?”

You nodded, then realized he couldn’t see you. “I just…”

He heard the sadness in your voice clear as day. He didn’t miss a beat. “FaceTime me. Let me look at you.”

As much as you wanted to fight him on it, you knew it would be an uphill battle. So you caved, pulling the phone from your cheek and pressing the “FaceTime” button. It connected immediately. And you’d finally seen yourself, eyes shimmering and puffy with fresh tears, cheeks damp.

And then you saw him. His eyebrows were furrowed, as if he wanted to pull you through the phone to grab you. You could see the heartbreak splayed across his face.

“I don’t wanna go,” you whispered, voice broken. The honesty cracked open like glass – soft but deep. The tears flowed freely then, wet and hot against your cheeks in a way that made your heart ache in sadness and slight embarrassment.

“I know,” he said. “I don’t want you to either.”

You were quiet except for the occasional sniffle as he let the silence breathe.

“I’ve been thinking about tomorrow,” he added. “About seeing you off. About how fast this week flew.”

You swallowed thickly.

“And I keep wondering to myself… how in the hell did you get under my skin this quick?”

You let out a deep, shaky breath, rubbing the wetness on your cheeks away with your palm.

“Because I see you,” he continued. “I see the way you try to make space for everybody else before you make it for yourself. I see how scared you are to ask for something real. And I see how hard you fight to believe that someone could choose you first.”

More tears welled in your eyes.

“You deserve to be chosen, babygirl,” he said. “Every. Single. Time.”

You didn’t speak. Or rather, couldn’t. 

He softened his voice even more. “I’m gonna miss you like hell. But I’m not going anywhere. You know that, right?”

You nodded simply. “Yes. I know,” you whispered.

“And I’ll call when you land…”

You nodded again.

“...I’ll come to you next. And after that, we’ll figure out what’s next.”

You breathed in, letting out another sigh, finally getting yourself together. “I want there to be a next.”

“There will be. You’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

You laughed, the smile he was searching for finally appearing.

“You gonna be OK?”

“Yeah. I am.”

“Good. Call me if you need me.” He said your name like a kiss. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight.”

The call ended. You wiped your eyes before stepping back out into the suite’s common area. To the girls, to the laughter, to the final night that still had a little magic left in it.

You stayed up a little longer after everything cleared out.

But it wasn’t because you weren’t tired – you absolutely were – but because the moment felt suspended. Like the room knew it would all end in the morning and wanted to stretch out every breath of it.

Lex had laid on the floor of the common area, having pulled her suitcase out from her room and leaving it half-opened in the middle of the room.

Nas had started braiding her hair while sitting on the couch, playing reruns of Jersey Shore.

Tati and Kris were finishing off the rest of the wine in the kitchenette, flipping through their camera rolls, arguing over whose angles were strongest.

You just sat on the kitchenette’s counter, Michael’s shirt hugging your frame, blanket laid across your lap, already feeling the ache rise up again.

“You okay, hun?” Tati asked, noticing the change in your face.

You nodded. “I just… don’t want this to be over.”

—

You fell asleep later than you meant to, but not too late. You’d made sure to set your alarm. Already laid out your clothes and packed everything except your toothbrush.

When the morning came, it arrived gently – grey skies, soft light, and the kind of stillness that made you breathe a little deeper.

Everyone moved like clockwork. No chaos this time, just quiet groans and zippers. Matching sweats and puffed-up neck pillows, final checks, last wipes of lip balm, sighs into coffee cups.

You looked at the clock just as your phone buzzed.

After gathering luggage downstairs, you met him in the hotel’s courtyard. He was standing by the car, back door open, trunk popped. Black sweats and a Bulls snapback on his head. His eyes were low, like he himself was overwhelmed with emotion but wouldn’t let it show. 

But he was still fine, and still one of the safest things you’d seen all week.

He looked up and smiled sadly as you stepped through the lobby doors, girls behind you with rolling suitcases and sunglasses, moving like a slow parade. “There y’all go.”

Tati gave him a once-over. “You’re lucky we didn’t oversleep.”

“Would’ve waited,” he said easily with a shrug. “Would’ve brought croissants.”

Nas rolled her eyes. “Charmer.”

“I mean it.” He loaded every bag into his truck, checked every headcount, and opened every door. By the time you climbed into the passenger seat next to him – seatbelt clicked, bag under your knees – you felt the air shift again.

Like it always did when it was just the two of you.

The ride to the airport was full of that last-day energy: a little slap-happy, a little sentimental, and a lot of shared glances across the car.

Lex played a playlist softly through her phone.

Kris whispered a prayer over everyone’s flights.

Tati was texting the girls' group chat from within the car, sending blurry pictures of Michael from behind his headrest with a string of flame emojis and the caption: “our driver is fine as hell.”

You leaned into the window and laughed.

He caught your reflection.

And at the terminal, the car idled in the drop-off lane. Of course, Michael got out first and unloaded the luggage, saying his goodbyes and giving short hugs to the girls.

Then it was your turn. You’d gotten out of the car last, stepping out slow, having needed an extra second to collect yourself. Your heart was in your throat as you walked to him and grabbed your luggage from his hold. “I don’t wanna say goodbye,” you said quietly, feeling the heat in your face rise again for what seemed like the hundredth time in 24 hours.

“You’re not.” He reached for you, palm cradling your jaw, thumb brushing beneath your eye. “You’re gonna go. You’re gonna land. You’re gonna text me.”

You nodded.

“And I’m gonna call – and text – and whatever else you need, as many times as we need to. And then, I’m gonna book a flight to come see you.”

“That doesn’t sound casual to me.” You joked with a short chuckle. 

“Because it ain’t – and if I gotta remind you every day, I will.” 

You kissed him first without any hesitation. Soft. Full. Like every second between now and next time had to be soaked in this moment.

When you pulled back, he didn’t let go. “I’m yours,” he said. “You hear me?”

Your voice cracked. “Yeah.”

He leaned in. “All yours, baby.”

You kissed him again before you turned to go, the girls already waiting at the airport’s entrance. There was so much ahead of you – the now what’s, the what if’s.

But right now, your heart was set right there in his hands.

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[i05wook]

Pika Pika Please - Murata Fuma

summary: taking your boyfriend on a surprise trip to his favourite place...the pokémon centre

genre: fluff

warnings: none

pairing: &team fuma x reader

wc: 1.3k

a/n: happy birthday to our sub-leader and hero, fuma!! can't believe i got to see you perform live twice here in japan♡ being in japan has helped me remember just how much i love my &teamies and hopefully i'll be writing more them soon. also the pictures (except fuma) are mine that i took at one of the pokemon centre here in japan.

also a huge thank you to @hyuukais and @astrae4 for beta reading this!

The late June sun beat down on the busy streets of Tokyo as people went about their day, parasols and iced coffees in hand.

With temperatures of 33°C expected for the whole week, spending the day outside wasn’t exactly ideal. However, today was special—both you and your boyfriend, Fuma, were finally in Tokyo with a rare day off together. 

His birthday was at the end of the week. You’d already bought his presents, but you still wanted to treat him to something a little more personal—something that would make him smile. So, you decided on one of his favourite things in the world: Pokémon.

Sure, there were shops all over Tokyo that sold Pokémon merchandise, but nothing quite compared to the Pokémon Centres. Bright, colourful, and packed with every kind of merch imaginable, they were like stepping into another world.

The walls were lined with plushies of all sizes, from palm-sized Pikachus to life-sized Oshawotts. Shelves overflowed with boxes of trading cards, and statues of fan-favourite Pokémon greeted visitors at every corner. You could find everything from snacks and stationery to posters and accessories. For the average fan, it was paradise. For Fuma? It was heaven on earth.

You could spend hours there together, always stumbling across something new or adorable to take home. Your shared apartment was proof of it—the spare room had slowly evolved into a Pokémon shrine. His card collection took up most of the desk space, plushies were stacked neatly on the shelves, and above the guest bed hung a framed poster of all the Eeveelutions. It made him happy—and seeing that always made you happy, too.

————————

“Babe, fancy a little outing today? Just a few quick stops I need to go, and I’ll even grab us a treat on the way home,” you called out to your boyfriend from your bedroom, as he sat at the breakfast bar eating his breakfast. 

“Sure—as long as we can get coffee first,” he said, making his classic bargain as usual, a grin evident in his voice. You smiled to yourself, knowing full well he’d still tag along even without the caffeine bribe.

Agreeing to his usual caffeine bribe, you left your boyfriend in charge of ordering the coffee while you finished getting ready. Once it arrived—an iced caramel Frappuccino and a matcha latte—you were both armed and ready to tackle the long list of errands ahead. 

Operation errands was a go!

The first of many stops was the post office, where you had to return an impulsive online order—one that seemed like a good idea at the time, but soon realised it was, in fact, not. After a surprisingly short wait, the parcel was on its way. No errand run felt complete without a quick stop at the drugstore to restock sunscreen and lip balm—and maybe splurge a little on a new hair treatment. 

With the first two errands already complete, it was time to make your way to the subway station in order to head to the mall to run your bigger errands. 

The metro was quiet for the time of day, most people at work or school, which meant that it was easy to find two seats next to each other. Sitting shoulder to shoulder on the quiet train, Fuma pulled out his earphones and placed one gently into your ear before slipping the other into his. Soft music began to play, wrapping the two of you in your own little world as you let your head rest on his shoulder. There was something deeply serene about sharing music in a nearly silent train, travelling through the busy city. 

————————

Ikea was the next stop on the list of errands. While Ikea was typically where you bought larger furniture from, today shopping consisted of small items only. You needed to buy some more dish towels because someone — Fuma — burnt the last good ones trying to boil pasta. No knows how he managed it, but you’d long stopped questioning these things. You also loved to buy candles from Ikea, however the last time you were there, you couldn’t decide what candle you wanted so you had to bring Fuma to help.

Ikea shopping trips could last anywhere between 20 minutes to 2 hours. Some days you both had to try out all of the beds while others, you were on a mission to get what you needed and leave. Today was in the middle. While you didn't spend time trying out all of the beds, you spent a reasonable amount of time just smelling the different scented candles. Fuma was set on wanting the meatball scented candle, and while funny,  not a scent you wanted in your apartment. However, Fuma said that the bergamot candle you wanted gave him a headache. The pair of you continued to argue over the scent until you both reached for the same lilac candle in a clear glass jar—the colour of wisteria. As soon as you both smelt the candle, you made eye contact and started hitting him lightly on the shoulder. 

“This is the same smell as the candle we lit that one night I stayed at yours and there was a power cut,” you rushed out excitedly. 

“What? The night in which we played uno by candle light, and you decided to commentate the whole game like it was Formula One?” 

It was a moment early into your relationship with Fuma. That night, between laughter and flickering candlelight, something inside you shifted. You knew—without question—that you loved this man with your whole heart. No one else had joined in with such antics before Fuma, but he gave back the same energy as you, commentating on his next moves. Both of you rolling on the floor with laughter by the end of the game. 

“Let’s get that one then, shall we babe?” Fuma said, as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, placing the candle into the bag and guiding you through the rest of the aisles. 

————————

It was finally time for the day’s big event. Somehow, Fuma still hadn’t realized you were heading towards his favorite place. It wasn’t until you rounded the corner and faced the store’s entrance that it finally clicked. He glanced at you, and with a silent nod from your side, he practically dragged you inside.

Like a child in a candy shop, his grin stretched from ear to ear as he wandered from shelf to shelf. You quietly grabbed a basket and followed him, watching with a smile as your six-foot-tall boyfriend darted around the Pokémon Center, clearly unsure what to choose. But one thing was certain—he wanted matching plushies. Pikachu and Eevee. When he stopped in front of the plush wall and picked up the two, he looked at you with wide, pleading eyes, silently asking if he could buy them for you. Without a word, you nudged your basket toward him, giving him the go-ahead. He kissed the top of your head as he placed the plushies inside, barely able to hide his excitement.

He made a beeline for the snacks section, scooping up his favourites and waiting for you to catch up with the basket. Once you did, he dropped everything in with practiced ease and headed straight for the Pokémon card shelves, eager to grab the newly released packs. Without hesitation, he bundled about ten into the basket—clearly no time for decision-making—and marched toward his final stop: the stickers.

Every visit, he picked out a new one—Snorlax, Pikachu, Ditto—tucking it into the back of his phone case so he could swap them out whenever the mood struck. Today, he grabbed two Ditto stickers: one for him, one for you. He always liked when your phone cases matched, even in the smallest ways.

After dropping them into the basket, he took it from your hands and tugged you toward the cashier. “If I stay any longer,” he said, eyes wide with faux panic, “I’m buying the whole store.” Leaving the store, two bags in hand, he wrapped his arm tightly around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

 “Thank you for today darling.”

[boba-pearl-writes]

6/27 - sex - word count: 992 - @rosekillermicrofic

Evan was suffocating. 

It was a normal, maybe even peaceful day, and Evan felt like he couldn’t breathe. To be fair, though, this feeling had been building up for quite a bit. 

And all of it had to do with Barty. Everything did, now - the good and the bad - because Barty was his. Finally, after months of dancing around each other and drunk kisses during parties, Barty was his. 

But now, Evan worried that his - for lack of a better word - secret, would bring all of that down. Every time he looked at Barty, every time he saw him staring back, every time they touched, every time they kissed; every single time, Evan would worry. 

Why?

Well, that had a lot to do with the fact that Evan never had, and never would, want sex. He’d found a word for it a few months ago, when talking to Pettigrew during a party. He’d said he felt the same, and Evan had relaxed, if only for that one conversation. Maybe it wasn’t just him.

Pettigrew had called it being “asexual,” and Evan thought that was a rather apt name for it. 

But Barty, as Evan had heard and, on one unfortunate occasion, seen, was the complete opposite. Before Barty and Evan had gotten together, Barty could usually be found with his tongue down another person’s throat at any party, and find his way to that person’s bed the night after. 

And now, Evan thought that was inevitable. That he’d be in that position and he would say no, and then, quite obviously, Barty would leave him. 

Barty’s leg nudged his own, breaking him out of his thoughts. They were in a charms lesson, and Flitwick was teaching something  or the other about giggling charms. Barty slid a note over to him. 

“You okay? You’re pouting,” the note read. Evan rolled his eyes and scribbled something back. 

“I am NOT pouting.”

Barty muffled a chuckle under a cough. He leaned over and whispered directly in Evan’s ear - “oh, darling, you are, and it is adorable.”

Evan turned bright red, and Barty had to “cough” again, which drew Flitwick’s attention over to them. They quieted down, but Barty leaned over again a few minutes later, when the whole class was drowned in chatter. 

“Are you okay, though?” He asked, the crease between his eyebrows betraying his worry. Evan gave him a lopsided smile.

“I- yeah, Barty, I’m okay.” Barty’s arm came around him, pulling him close into Barty’s side. 

“I’m not buying that, and you are going to tell me later,” Barty said. Evan tensed, his mind running through several different possibilities, all ending with Barty being disgusted with him, Barty being disappointed, Barty leaving him. 

Barty leaving was something Evan didn’t want to imagine, or to think about.

He didn’t want that, period. He didn’t, but it seemed sort of inevitable now, didn’t it?

-x-

When Evan came back from the shower, Barty was already sitting on his bed. He looked up as he heard Evan approaching, and smiled up at him. 

“Hey,” Barty said, as Evan sat down next to Barty.

“Hi.” Barty studied Evan’s face for a few seconds, then entwined Evan’s hand with his own. 

“You still look sad,” Barty said, his voice soft. Evan stared down at the blanket, his free hand picking at the hem of his shirt.

“It’s nothing,” Evan whispered, moving to leave the bed, to do something, anything that got him out of this situation, out of telling Barty, but Barty held his hand firmly. He wasn’t going to let him leave. 

When Barty wanted something, he fought for it. And right now, what Barty wanted most was Evan. 

“It’s not nothing, Ev. If it’s important to you, it is for me, too.” When Evan didn’t say anything, Barty spoke again. “Us against the world, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Evan tore his gaze from the bed, and looked at Barty. He looked calm, and comforting. “Barty, I have something to tell you.” Barty nodded, a bit confused, but as if inviting him to speak. “I’m… I’m asexual. Do you know what that means?”

Barty thought for a moment. “I can take a guess, yeah,” he said. Evan felt the suffocating feeling growing, his mind so fast it felt dizzying. Barty would say something, and he would get up and- and he would leave. “So?” 

Wait, what? Evan stared at Barty incredulously.

“What do you mean ‘so?’ I’m asexual. Barty, I’m- I’m never going to have sex with you.”

“No, you aren’t.”

“Doesn’t that bother you?” Evan asked, as if pleading Barty to just tell him that he wasn’t it for Barty anymore, to just get it over with. 

“Evan,” Barty said firmly. “Evan, I love you.” Barty grasped his hand firmer, and came closer to him. “I love you, and not anything more than what you’re comfortable with. Just you. Nothing more.”

“Oh,” Evan whispered, taken aback by how deadset Barty sounded, on him. “You still love me?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” Barty asked, frowning. He kissed Evan on the cheek, then smiled. “I have loved you, Evan Rosier, as if you were a part of my soul, since we were twelve, and I’m not going to stop because of who you are. I never will.” Barty’s free hand came up to the back of Evan’s neck to pull him into another kiss, then he paused. 

“This is okay, right? Kissing, touching like this? You’ll tell me when it’s not?” Barty clarified, worry knitting his brows together. 

Evan smiled, smiled properly, for the first time in a week, and brought his hands up to cup Barty’s face. “I appreciate you checking, but yeah. It’s okay Barty. It’s amazing.” Barty grinned, and Evan pulled him in this time. 

He breathed Barty in - his love, his pure adoration for Evan, that he never hesitated to show - and he was no longer starved for air. 

[random-autie-fangirl]

I drew another Chara- living with the Dreemurrs edition

"The King and Queen treated the human child as their own. The underground was filled with hope."

I don't like this as much as the last one but oh well... I ended up rambling a huge amount in the tag, so if you want details and headcanons about the actual drawing again, you'll have to look pretty far down this time, sorry (Also, I ran out of tags after a while. Tumblr is tired of me, lol. I might reblog this more tags later if I remember what I was going to say.)

[shencomix]

How to Be The Dominant Male in Any Situation

Let's say you walk into a party.

You are wet and pathetic. Not only are you a worm, but even among worms you are the runt of the litter.

There's a way to fix that. Even you can be the alpha male in every situation you're in. Here's how:

Alpha Male Rule 1: Stand Tall or Very Short

In some things in nature, like rats and giraffes, the biggest creature in is leader.

However, in other things in nature, like the mafia, which has large goons but a small boss, the smallest creature is the leader.

You need to lean into whichever option is closest to you. If you are almost short, try wearing a big suit like a mob boss would wear to also make yourself wider like a mob boss. If are you almost tall, like I am, trying wearing these bad boys:

Now, I know what you're thinking: "High heels?? But isn't that for women???" Women have been hiding them from us men because they are afraid of how powerful we would be with them. But, why do women alone get to augment so much about themselves?? Look at all the eyeliner and mascara they need to even begin to mimic the power and seductiveness of our male eyelashes:

So, let's take a look at how we're doing now having applied just this one piece of advice:

It's a whole new situation. Let's move onto rule 2:

Alpha Male Rule 2: Always Get What You Want But Never Ask For It

I notice the man next to me has cookies. I would like one. Not only that, but there's also a woman next to me, watching. Asking another man for a cookie is extremely un-alpha behavior, so here's how you go about this situation:

1) Point out that someone else has something that you want

2) Cry until they give it to you

If everything has gone according the plan, you now have a cookie, and the woman is thinking something like this:

Let's move onto the last rule.

Alpha Male Rule 3: Always Up the Ante

Whatever you want to do or say, do or say it at least 3 times as hard as a regular person. When your coffee is $3, you should give $9 to show how wealthy you are. When you say "I'll be back in 5 minutes" you should actually be back in 15 minutes -- but really, you should say "I'll be back in 15 minutes" and be back in 45 minutes.

You should also start every task at step 3 rather than step 1. So, a normal (read: beta) guy might tell a girl "I think you're pretty" and then later ask "will you be my girlfriend?' But you should just say this:

99% of women will say yes, but if she needs further convincing, it can be helpful to offer her a small present, like a trinket or snack.

Congratulations. You have now learned how to be the most dominant male in any situation. Here are a few more tips for the road:

Claim to be descended from an ancient king or emperor. You can make a map or your lineage and fold it up to carry it in your pocket, so that you may unfold it whenever it needs to be presented.

If a woman takes a genuine interest in you, do the full body blush animation rising from bottom to top like you're a cup filling up, then run away, leaving behind a small cloud and a few speed lines. The idea that woman can actually like you is a lie perpetuated by Big Women.

If you want to further increase your height, try wearing bunny ears.

[nanamisgirly]

feed back and reblogs are always appreciated my girliees <333

part.2 part.3 part.4

virgin!nerdjo who pulled a total certified baddie in college by being…himself.

awkward, dorky, too tall for his own good, always pushing up those stupid glasses with ink-stained fingers— it was him. somehow, you wanted him. he doesn't understand how he got so lucky, but he's not about to question it. 

virgin!nerdjo got one mission : being good to you. especially in bed. because when you kissed him for the first time, straddling his lap, grinding that perfect little body against him, he nearly came in his pants. he gripped your waist a little too tight to keep you from moving too much. it's humiliating how quickly he was about to fold, how his cock throbs desperately just from the heat of you.

virgin!nerdjo isn't completely clueless—he's read about sex, heard about it, he's not that innocent. but knowing and doing are two completely different things. and he realized it the second you grinded on him. he damn near whimpered. bit down hard on his lip to swallow it back.

virgin!nerdjo needs to learn. he thinks porn might help—big mistake. it's all so…aggressive. male-centered. nothing about it feels right. he watches a few clips, cringing the entire time, then slams his laptop shut and scrubs a hand down his face. he should have listened when geto used to go on and on about his exploits. should have paid attention instead of rolling his eyes and tuning him out.

so he does what he does best. he researches. virgin!nerdjo orders a book called ‘The Art of Female Pleasure.’ and the moment it arrives, he's on it. glasses slipping down his nose, hunched over the pages, absorbing every word like it's the most important text he's ever studied. he dedicates days to this. nights. rereads passages, highlights sections. he doesn't just want to be good. he wants to be perfect. because you're a baddie—a pro— and he's so fucking lucky. what if you jump on him any time soon and he's still not ready? that idea terrifies him.

virgin!nerdjo gets so into it that he even starts to scroll through forums. he reads firsthand experiences, studying anatomy diagrams until his face is burning and his cock is achingly hard beneath the sheets. because it's not just learning, it's imagining.

virgin!nerdjo who imagines you underneath him, pretty lips parted in gasps, legs spread as he slides his fingers over you just like the book describes. he imagines how wet you'd get if he did everything right. if he took his time, kissed his way down your body, licked into you like he's read—slow, deep, deliberate. he wonders if you'd tug on his hair, if you'd cry out his name, if you'd shake when you come, thighs squeezing around his head—

fuck. horny thoughts took over him as he bucks up into nothing. he wants it. so bad. 

and the next time you're kissing, you instantly notice how his hands get bolder, slipping under your shirt, trailing fire down your spine. how he suddenly knows excatly where to touch, where to squeeze, when to roll his hips just right—letting you feel the size of him, the hard, thick heat pressing up against you. you break the kiss, breathless. “since when do you do all that?”

virgin!nerdjo swallows thickly, ears burning red. “…i've been studying.”

૮꒰⸝⸝> - <⸝⸝꒱ა☆⋆。

for @miscellaneous-misty

[navybrat817]

Sharp Dressed Man

Pairing: Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky looks good in a suit, and it isn't fair how easily he turns you on.

Word Count: Over 2k

Warnings: Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), referenced oral sex (f. receiving), feels, sweet and spicy fic, established relationship, vulnerability, being in love, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: More Tower Shenanigans based on an anon ask. ❤️ Thank you to the lovely @buckybarnesfic, @soelstress, @mrsbuckybarnes1917 for looking it over and assuring me it wasn't garbage. Written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was still getting ready for the day while you made him breakfast. It was the most important meal of the day, and neither of you would let the other skip it. Thankfully the rest of the team had already eaten and were elsewhere, otherwise everyone would try to steal something; except for Bob because he wouldn't take food without asking. Not to mention the last time John tried to steal one of Yelena’s meals he almost lost a finger. 

The scent of freshly brewed coffee cut through the last traces of sleep, warming you up as you loaded the plates with various foods and set them on the island. You rinsed the dishes and cleaned the counters while you waited for Bucky, doing a silly little dance in-between tasks. It wasn't your day to tidy up the kitchen, but you weren't going to be a jerk and leave it a mess. 

“Someone’s happy this morning,” Ava said from behind you, and you somehow didn't jump at the sound. You were all getting used to her phasing in and out of the rooms. “Let me guess. Morning sex?”

Was it obvious since you were only in your robe and underwear? “Maybe,” you teased. 

The wonderful ache between your legs was a nice reminder of how Bucky woke you earlier, making you shiver. You felt his fingers and tongue working you over before you opened your eyes, and you barely recovered from your first orgasm before he had his cock in you. It wasn't rushed either. He took his time, making you feel every delicious inch as he thrust slow and deep. Even when you came again he didn't stop. 

“‘Attagirl,” he smiled against your lips while you trembled beneath him, his body effectively caging you in. “But you can give me one more. I know you can.”

“Bucky,” you whined, wanting nothing more than for him to fill you to the brim. 

“Just one more, sweetheart.” A hand moved between your bodies so he could play you like a well tuned instrument. “One more and I’ll give it to you.”

You did, and so did he, your name tumbling from his lips as he spilled into you. Who wouldn't give Bucky another orgasm if he gently demanded it? Three orgasms wasn't a bad way to start the day. A girl could do much worse. 

“Lucky,” she smirked, snapping you out of your thoughts when she snatched a bite of food from Bucky’s plate. “Mmm. Remind me to have you make me breakfast the next time you have morning sex.”

“Hey!” you yelled, but there was laughter in your eyes when she took another bite and phased away. “You’ll pay for that!”

“Who will pay for what?” Bucky asked when he walked into the room, making your breath catch in your throat. 

Bucky's hair was tucked behind his ears today, bringing your attention to his steel eyes before you took in the rest of him. His suit was tailored impeccably to his large frame, and he wore it well. He carried himself with composed ease, his steps deliberate and head held high. His presence demanded attention without appearing arrogant, which was tough to balance. He was all man. 

He was your man. 

“Fuck me,” you breathed. 

Bucky may not be a Congressman anymore, but he would have had your vote for anything and everything he ever wanted. 

His eyes flashed with unmistakable lust and pride as he walked toward you, making your stomach flip. “Already did.”

��You did, and you can do that again later,” you said, reaching up to trace his mouth. 

You smiled when he kissed your fingers. It was an honor to touch him and that wasn't at all an exaggeration. You noticed how tense he got when some got too close to him, but not you. Never you. 

“So, I look handsome?” he asked casually, adjusting his tie. “Not that I’m trying to look handsome. I’m only wearing this since I have a meeting, and I might get a few dirty looks if I show up in tactical gear.”

You almost teased that he was fishing for a compliment, but you saw just a flicker of his confidence waver as he waited for your answer. “Suit or tactical gear, you’re the most handsome man I've ever seen.”

He breathed out, his confidence back in full force. “I’m glad to hear that.” Sliding a hand over the curve of your hip, his fingers dug in, a protective and possessive touch, when he brought his mouth to your ear. “And I may have to wear suits around you more often since it turns you on so much.”

You tried to play coy, as if your nipples hadn’t peaked and your clit didn't throb. “Who said I'm turned on?” 

Bucky chuckled and lowered his head, his teeth nipping your neck and drawing a whimper from you. His lips moved up to find your ear again while you tried to keep your breathing steady. “Don't have to say it, sweetheart. I can smell you,” he whispered. You couldn't hide anything with those heightened senses of his, a blessing or a curse depending on how you looked at it. “Ruined your panties the second I walked in here.”

Your eyes closed. He was right, the smug bastard. Damn him. Damn him to Hell. No, not there. That was too cruel. Your bed would do nicely. 

It was insane the more you thought about it. The man could breathe and it would send your libido into overdrive. Feminism? Where did it go? One murder strut or grumpy stare and it went out the window along with your panties. One smile and it melted your insides. 

What had he done to you?

“You're unbelievable,” you sighed. 

He pulled back, searching your face. “What do you mean?” 

“I was a strong and capable woman before I came here,” you said, the words sounding ridiculous as soon as they left your mouth. 

“And you still are,” he assured you. Bucky was one of your biggest supporters, always. 

“It’s just… Do you have any idea what that’s like? To just look at someone and get turned on?” You stepped out of reach and gestured to him. You asked yourself some days how Bucky Barnes could possibly be real. How did someone like him exist? “You breathe and I get aroused. That isn't normal.”

No other man had that kind of power over you, body or heart, until him. 

The warm chuckle from your boyfriend had you fighting not to smile. “One, we’re not normal. Two, your breathing turns me on, too. And three, I do know it’s like to just look at someone and get aroused because that happens when I look at you,” he said, taking your hand to bring you back to him. He placed it against his crotch and grew harder under your touch. “We’re a match made in heaven, Hell, whatever you want to call it.”

Blood rushed to your cheeks. You two were a good match. “It isn't just arousal when I look at you. It’s…” You took a breath and gripped his jacket with your other hand, trying to be careful not to wrinkle it. “You smile at me and…” 

“And what?” he asked, catching your eye and softly smiling. 

You swallowed, your eyes suddenly misting over before you dropped your hands. It was alarming how quickly your emotions took over in regard to Bucky. “I see a future with you there.”

Bucky cupped your cheeks when you tried to duck your head. He had stripped you bare more than once, but saying something like that made you feel more vulnerable than when you were naked. “Oh, sweetheart.”

“You have the power to break me,” you whispered, your eyes shutting. Not to hide, but to keep the tears at bay. “Which should be terrifying, but it’s very exhilarating.”

To give that much of yourself to another, to trust them to that extent, wasn't easy. But if life taught you anything, it was that it was too short and you had to seize every opportunity to live it to the fullest. Who better to do that with than Bucky Barnes?

You cleared your throat when he didn't say anything, his eyes a storm of emotions when you opened yours. “Your breakfast is getting cold. You should-”

He surged forward, his lips covering yours. The pad of his thumbs brushed your cheeks when he deepened the kiss, coaxing you to open your mouth to his. Emotions surged through you, your heart nearly overflowing as you held onto each other. You felt everything all at once and let yourself be swept away. 

He slowly broke the kiss allowing you both to savor the lingering touch of each other's lips and take a much needed breath. “You could break me, too, but you won't,” he said, his forehead resting against yours as you attempted to calm your racing heart. “Just like I'd never break you.”

It was a vow that resonated in your core, a declaration of love, one that had you kissing him again and silently promising the same. “Match made in heaven or Hell, huh?”

“And where you go, I’ll follow,” he smiled. 

You'd follow him, too. “Well, right now you need to eat breakfast and head out so you aren't late for your meeting.”

He groaned and refrained from rolling his eyes. “This suit is coming off as soon as I get back,” he said, much to your disappointment. Or maybe your delight. 

“Right when you get back?” You bit your lip. “Will you use the tie on me?” 

“I can,” he smirked, making your body heat up all over again. “Can have a little fun in the office, too. Pretend I’m your boss and-”

“Or I could be your boss since I'm strong and capable,” you teased. 

He moaned, seemingly into that idea as he backed you against the island. “Boss or not, I’ll still bend you over the desk or have you sit on it while I eat your pretty pussy.”

You whined. There was no stopping Bucky when he was hungry. He’d spread your legs and stay between them until you cried, lap up every drop and still want more. 

His hands roamed your body, forgetting all about breakfast. “Fuck you raw and fill you up just the way you-”

Bob cleared his throat, both of you turning toward the sound. How long had the poor guy been standing there? “Just getting a drink,” he said, quickly going to the fridge and avoiding looking at you. “I’m not even here.”

“Sorry, Bob,” you smiled sheepishly when he grabbed his drink and bolted. “We should probably rent a hotel room or something soon and give the team a break.”

You and Bucky could be extremely private some days and others there was no stopping you. How the team put up with it you had no idea. Maybe because you made each other happy. It still had to be slightly obnoxious for them. 

Bucky scratched the back of his neck, a sheepish smile on his handsome face, too. “Or we could always do a campout on the roof so we aren't too far away,” he suggested. 

You smiled as you imagined it. Looking out over the city and watching the stars before cuddling up in a tent. A cabin getaway was also something to keep in mind for the future when you two could take a break together. Peaceful, quiet. Something just for the two of you. 

“A roof campout sounds nice,” you said. 

“Good,” Bucky smirked before he picked you up and set you on the island. “Campout later. Right now I want breakfast.”

“Bucky, your meeting.” 

“I won't be late.”

You didn't resist when he opened your legs. “Ava said no more fooling around in the kitchen since we eat here,” you reminded him. Alexei would probably encourage it. “And I just cleaned up, and you haven't eaten the food I made.”

“I’ll clean up the mess,” he winked as he crouched down. “And I’ll eat after I eat.”

And he did. 

We deserve this. Bucky deserves this. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[psuejo]

❥ boynextdoor!gojo and his adorable loser!neighbor :c

you never leave your house. like, ever.

the last time he saw you even step outside was two weeks ago on saturday at 1:02pm, and that was because you had to bring in the garbage can and mail since your parents were off on vacation.

how could you live like that? you just stay cramped up in your room, surrounded by anime posters and weird figures, hunched over some silly pc playing an even sillier game. it’s an absolute mess in there, too — empty cups and bottles everywhere, dishes that really need to go into the dishwasher, an ever-growing pile of unfolded clothes.

satoru can’t let you go on like this. the last time he snuck into your room for a little gift from your hamper, he’d nearly broken his neck. your room needs to be deemed a serious health hazard!

so, like any good neighbor would, the next time your parents leave to travel somewhere, satoru offers to stay at the house with you. y’know, for double protection. he wouldn’t want anything to happen to your parents’ precious baby girl!

you, of course, were not amused. c’mon, seriously? satoru gojo, the city’s it-boy, wanting to stay in your house that’s practically a shed in comparison to his massive mansion? it’s gotta be some cruel, twisted joke — an extra rusty knife shoved into the shitshow of your life.

but, no, unluckily for you. satoru is dead serious, and he pulls out all the stops to get your worrywart parents to agree: that bright, charming smile, a hefty compensation if anything goes awry, a voucher to some snobby golf club, and even an invitation to have dinner with his family.

what aspiring business person wouldn’t want to talk to the most influential clan in japan? they wouldn’t say no even if they wanted to.

it’s a win-win — they get to schmooze and network like the power-hungry vermin they are, and satoru gets to have you, his little cutie pie, to himself for a weekend, without any interruptions.

what could possibly go wrong?

you quickly realize that it is everything.

satoru is a pest. sure, you knew that already, but somehow his need to and the success rate of agitating you had skyrocketed in the past six months that you hadn’t seen him.

he’s always touching you — sitting too close on the couch, lanky arm slung along the back of it, his big hand ruffling your already messy hair whenever he walks past, or his feet brushing yours underneath the kitchen table.

and if that wasn’t bad enough, he never. stops. talking. it’s like when he was born, his genes forgot to put a switch to turn him off, because you swear he just goes on and on and on and on about nothing.

all you want is peace and quiet for a weekend. that’s it! your parents aren’t home to pester you about transferring to in-person classes at university or about finally applying for a job. alas, he’s here to spoil your damn plans.

your frustrations eventually reach a boiling point, and you relax the best way you know how: with that tiny pink vibrator.

you just didn’t expect satoru to walk in and offer to help.

which is precisely how you’re now in his lap, trembling legs spread as satoru pumps two long, slender fingers in and out of your needy cunt. they go way deeper than yours could ever hope to, curling and scissoring right against that sweet spot that has your back arching against his chest.

his other hand is clasped around your smaller one, making sure you keep your precious vibrator right on that puffy clit. if you wanted to get off so bad, all you had to do is ask!

but you didn’t, so he had to wait ‘til he heard those poorly stifled whimpers before casually strutting in for his forgotten phone.

oopsie.

“feels good, right?” he whispers, warm breath ghosting across the shell of your ear, and you don’t even need to see his face to know he’s smiling. bastard.

you nod your head, though, too far gone in the lusty haze to bother with being snarky. that delicate coil in your gut is so close to snapping, much closer than it usually is when you do this yourself. “mmf, yeah...”

and satoru knows it.

he moves your thumb to press the up setting twice on your toy, and his cock gives a happy twitch from its confines in his boxers when you squeal, hips bucking up into the vibrator and pushing his fingers deeper.

another oopsie.

one he doesn’t regret the second your moans get louder, gooey walls fluttering around his fingers as you grind up. “ohh, fuck, ‘m g’na cum, oh my god—!”

you’re so beautiful when you cum, eyes sliding back and squirt spraying the towel beneath you and satoru’s hand as you clamp down on his fingers, entire body shuddering and twitching.

he has to think about some long-winded chemistry formula to not cream his pants right then and there.

when you finally start to get your breath back, chest heaving and face flushed with what he’s sure is both arousal and embarrassment, that’s when satoru pulls his fingers free with a loud squelch.

“aww, she misses me already,” he coos, and you don’t even get a moment to be confused before he pops his fingers into his mouth, lapping up your essence like it’s his last supper.

it’s gross, hearing those wet slurping noises behind you, but your gut tightens anyway, and you ignore the small feeling of disappointment when he takes his fingers out of his mouth.

“don’t worry, baby.” with two big hands on your waist, he shifts you off his lap and lays you down on your back. “i’ll stuff ‘er full with something bigger, how about that?”

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

warnings: creampie, breeding, knotting, wolf hybrid!reader x bunny hybrid, reader is described as taller and bigger

A/N: this was a kofi request. Also for Momo fans, I have stickers of him in my kofi shop!

To most people, you and your lover were a strange pair. After all, you were a wolf hybrid, and him a tiny bunny hybrid. They assumed you were the boss in the relationship, running everything behind the scenes.

Oh how wrong they were.

You met him at a party. It was late and you didn’t drink, so you were getting uncomfortable around all of the people that were already drunk off of their asses.

Several of your female friends had begged you to come with them, wanting a designated driver. They convinced you it would be tame fun and you’d meet a decent guy there.

Unfortunately, every other wolf hybrid male you were interested in was either drunk off their ass or making out with some other hybrid.

It saddened you, sometimes, to know cute little squirrel and puppy hybrid girls your age could easily get a wolf hybrid boyfriend, when the reverse wasn’t true for you

Anytime you dated outside of predator hybrids, the prey male you were with would want you to dominate them. You weren’t interested in that, though. All you wanted was a dominant man that didn’t care about your size.

“Hey, you alright?”

You glanced to your left, seeing no one until the person cleared their throat. “Down here…”

There was a small, smiling bunny hybrid standing right next to. How long had they been there?

“Hello… and yeah… I’m alright,” you answered slowly, quickly looking away. You weren’t really in the mood to try and help someone get with one of your cuter hybrid friends, which is why you assumed he was talking to you.

The bunny hybrid’s fluffy ear twitched, and he offered a hand. “C’mon, you don’t seem to be having fun. We can go outside and get some fresh air if you’d like.”

This gave you pause. A smaller hybrid was worried about you? Most would avoid an upset predator hybrid, not wanting to be bitten or attacked… but instead he offered a helping hand.

It almost made you feel like a princess.

Your cheeks heated up, and you took his hand gratefully. “Thank you, um…”

“Momo, you can call me Momo.”

The two of you left the party, walking out into the fresh air to gather yourselves. His white hair seemed to almost shine in the moonlight, and your heart thumped in your chest when he caught you staring,

“Yeah, I get it. You’re not used to being left alone at parties. You’re pretty after all, I’m sure all the wolf hybrids want to snatch you up.”

If only that was the case.

“Actually… male wolf hybrids tend to focus on pretty, smaller hybrids like bunnies and deer. It’s… uncommon for me to go home with anyone after a party.”

Uncommon was an understatement. The only time you brought home a wolf hybrid, he instead wnet for your roommate who happened to be a pretty deer hybrid. It was so frustrating!

“That’s a shame. You’re really pretty, I’m sure you’ll be mated soon.”

Again, you felt your heart race at his words. Momo leaned against the railing, his yellow eyes trailing up and down your body. “Mmm, are you against me coming home with you?”

Now that took you by surprise. You had always asked first, never being sought after. With a shake of your head, Momo grabbed your hand.

“C’mon then, let’s ditch this lame party. We can order some pizza and chill at your place or mine, whichever makes you more comfortable.”

Him, a little bunny, worried about your comfort? You were pretty much swooning at this point!

The two of you spent the ride home chatting, and sat on your couch eating pizza and watching some romcom that was more comedy than romance. It had the two of you laughing your asses off at how cheesy the little romance bits were…

Soon enough though, you felt his hand slowly move across the couch and settle onto your thigh. You made no move to pull away, instead you scooted closer, allowing his hand to move to your clothed pussy.

This was the first time anyone had reached out to touch you like this. You had been close to fucking another person before, but always got turned off by having to do everything first.

Now, you were being pursued, touched confidently. His fingers rubbed at your clothed breath, his chest pressed against your side while his breath fanned across your neck.

“Mmm, you’re getting wet already…”

Your scent was driving him crazy, and Momo was barely holding back the urge to pin you down.

For a moment you worried that he would back off and wait for you to take over. Would he be just like the rest, and expect you to dominate him?

When Momo sensed you shy away slightly, his bunny ears twitched and he grabbed your chin.

Turning you to look at him, he hummed softly and leaned forward. “Getting nervous? I can show you what to do…”

You felt your panties grow damp at his words. Momo pushed you down slowly, his cotton tail wagging as he climbed on top of you.

“Mmph… you’re gorgeous, you know? So cute…”

He kissed down your neck, marveling at the strength in your large hands. If you wanted to, you could crush him in a second.

Yet here he was, keeping you pinned underneath him as he pulled your panties off.

With your cunt on full display, he grinned. “There’s my pretty girl… she wants me so bad, doesn’t she?” he cooed, dipping a finger into your folds. It was slick with your arousal when he pulled it out.

“C’mon, have a taste.”

Your eyes fluttered closed as you sucked your own juices from his finger. It felt too good, being bossed around like this…

“Such a good girl for me, aren’t you? Need a reward…”

He pumped his fingers in and out of your wet cunt, watching as your pussy squelched with each movement. Momo could see how desperate you were to mate, and groaned as your walls fluttered around his fingers.

For a bunny hybrid, Momo was hung. When he pulled down his pants, you were left speechless. You had seen a few buns in porn before, and none of their cocks came close to rivaling his.

As it hardened up, it grew even larger, making you blink in surprise. Only your own fingers and Momo’s had ever entered your pussy, and now he was about to put THAT in you?

Your cheeks flushed as he played with your clit to help prep you. A coo left his lips, and he smiled when your hips bucked uncontrollably. “Shh, I’ve got you. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

He nibbled on your neck, his little bunny teeth making you giggle as he did his best to loosen you up. “It’s gonna be okay, I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

His fingers moved in and out of you as his cock throbbed. It seemed every time he pumped into your tight cunt, he became more antsy. It was clear he wanted it to be his cock making you whimper and writhe, but he had to ensure you were stretched out enough to take him.

Momo truly cared about you and your pleasure…to him, you were a pretty girl that was afraid of your first time. You weren’t a looming monster or some scary predator that others made you out to be.

“I-I’m ready…”

You found it cute how excited he got at your words. Momo’s fluffy cotton tail wagged furiously as his cock lined up with your needy, dripping pussy.

“A kiss…” he murmured, pressing the head of his cock against your hole. “Muah~”

Feeling his cock stretch you out felt both painful and sweet. His fingers were entertwined with yours, his lips on your neck as he cooed sweet nothings.

“It’s alright, I’ve got you. Shh…”

Despite the fact you were nearly double his size, Momo was worried for you, checking your face for any discomfort before he bottomed out.

“Feels funny,” you muttered as he kissed away the tears on your cheeks. “Like I’m being torn apart…”

He gave your cheek a few affectionate licks, his soft pink nose nuzzling you as he moved his hips slightly to help you get used to it all.

“I know… it’ll pass, I promise.”

He toyed with your clit, flicking and prodding the sensitive bud while his free hand held onto your hip. Your cunt was so tight, he really didn’t want to hurt you…

Slowly, you loosened up enough that he could pull his hips back and fully fuck back into you. A gasp escaped your lips, and your claws dug into the soft flesh of his back as he started a steady, slow rhythm.

“F-fuck…” Momo groaned, his cock twitching inside of you. The pleasurable feeling or your claws in his skin made him feel feral, and he bit down on your shoulder to tell you who was in control.

Momo slowly picked up speed, his bunny teeth digging into your sensitive flesh. It felt like you were being mounted and ravaged by a wolf hybrid with the way he was pounding into you. Every thrust made your tits bounce, and soon that caught his attention.

He took one of your nipples into his mouth, looking up through his thick white lashes as he suckled softly. The combined pleasure of being fucked and your tits being groped made you cum all over him.

Momo let out a shuddering groan, his eyes rolling back in his head as your pussy clenched and unclenched around his throbbing cock in your first orgasm of the night.

“There’s my girl, you’re doing… so well…” Momo said between moans, his nails digging into your hips as he held himself back from cumming inside of you then and there.

He lifted one of your legs over your shoulder, and you felt his tip hit somewhere deep inside of you, making your eyes widen.

All you could see was stars, your tail wagging lazily as he leaned down to capture your lips in a heated kiss.

When he pulled away, he grinned down at you, panting between words. “F-fuck… you’re beautiful like this…”

And as he said the last word, his hips slammed into you and cum painted your gummy walls, filling you up as he cried out in ecstasy. Momo’s tongue tangled with yours, and his hips kept slapping against yours as he bred you thoroughly.

His knot swelled up, keeping all of his seed inside of you as the two of you began to recover.

“Did you… really mean that..?” you asked suddenly as he gazed down at you with lovesick eyes. “That… I’m beautiful? I’m… not what you should want… y’know, instinctually…”

He tilted his head, and for a moment you worried that you said the wrong thing. You just figured a bunny hybrid such as himself would rather be with a smaller female hybrid!

“Mmm, I meant what I said, and you’re the one I chose to go home with.”

He cupped your cheek, caressing it lightly. Momo gave your chubby cheeks more soft kisses before he moved to lay on top of you.

“You’re so soft and warm… ahh…”

One of his hands gave your belly a playful squish, his cotton tail wagging mischievously. “I’ve never meant a girl like you before. You’re… perfect for me.”

The two of you lied there, basking in the afterglow of sex. It smelled nice, the combination of your scents. Perhaps… you could even get used to it.

“Momo… we should do this again sometime. It was nice.”

He tilted his head, his bunny ears flicking as he looked up at you. “Of course we’ll do this again… we’re a mated pair now. Bunnies are quite horny you know. In fact…”

Momo straightened up again, his cock already hard and ready for more. You blinked, your eyes widening as he lined up with your pussy.

“I think I’m ready for round two.”

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi @flamefoxx @sandramalikstyles-blog @breathingstarlight

[cathnospam]

Bakugo always talk a big game during sex, but you believe it’s only because he’s too pussy drunk to realize exactly what he’s saying.

A good example is when he sneaks into your dorm to have sex while the rest of the class is down in the common room completely awake and alert, just one loud moan or yell and most of them will come rushing to your room to see what’s wrong.

“You have to be quiet, Y/N unless you do wanna give them a show huh?”

Bakugo’s breathy groans transitioning to a chuckle that makes your skin grow goosebumps, it was so attractive you subconsciously clenched down on him, a strained moan of your name slips out, “Of course you fucking do—shit.”

You held your lips tightly, only soft whimpers and whines was all you could let out with every stretch of his dick that hit your sweet spot so perfectly. Bakugo was already in a dizzy state of mind when he pulled away from your hickey filled neck to get a good look at your fucked out face, your labored wheezing of trying to be quiet while also still milking him for everything he’s got only made his hips move faster.

The covers got too hot under there so he tossed them off, his pupils growing bigger seeing your body completely being pounded from below, he did more damage to your skin than he thought.

He kept whispering in your ear such dirty comments about your body, how your tits uncontrollably moved with every thrust he did, how cute your tongue looked almost slipping out of your mouth, your eyes rolling back when he forces you to look him in the eyes.

But he kept talking about getting caught, you swore up and down he had some kind of hidden kink about it, but that was until you both finally did.

“Y-Y/N, Sato made some cookies and I knew you’d want some so I—-“

Deku has never screamed as loud as he has before in his entire life.

“Shit! DEKU!”

You swore all the reddish color in Bakugo’s face turned completely white, Bakugo hovered over you and grabbed a pillow to throw at Deku, you could’ve sworn from how hard he threw it it had rocks it in because it slapped his forehead so hard you could hear a smack.

“I-I-I’m sorry! I- didn’t! I didn’t hear you— and I—“

“JUST GET THE FUCK OUT!”

Even though it was embarrassing to see Deku cover his face, and place the plate of cookies on your desk to then stumble out of your room, Bakugo looked more freaked out than you. Maybe you were comfortable with them both, but honestly having Izuku walk in on you wasn’t as bad as you thought.

Your boyfriend however would disagree.

“Fucking—-stupid ass—“ He sat on his knees rubbing his hair, before quickly getting up to walk towards the bedroom door, “I thought you locked it.”

“I did, but Zuzu has a key.”

“Of course he fucking does. Next time we’re going to MY room. Dumbass is probably ganna tell everybody.”

“He won’t…” Your demeanor was way too calm for his liking, he glared at you completely confused as to why you are so nonchalant about this. “ It’s Izuku okay he probably is going to bleach his eyes right now.”

You get up to look at the pretty cookies Deku manages to save for you with your blanket still wrapped around you and shrug, “What? You the one always talking about how we’ll get caught…and we did. Don’t like it do ya.”

Bakugo just scoffed, he wasn’t finished, but he sure as fuck didn’t need any more distractions so he locked the door, grabbing one of your chairs and putting it in front of it, “Go lay back down.”

[cursingtoji]

cw: band au, rockstar!geto x groupie!gf, slight manipulation?, car sex, oral. a/n: geto deserves a loser gf too. gojo version nanami version toji version

geto who has a rock band and though they’re quite small they already have a #1 fan: you.

the band is all you talk about, going to the point of making your own shirts and posters, you doodle the bands logo everywhere and, most importantly you don't miss a single concert.

by the end of it you're waiting next to the back door of the pub when the band comes out, as soon as you see suguru you call his name extending your little gift bag.

"woah for me? thanks, doll." he takes your chin and gives your glossy lips a peck that makes your heartbeat spike up and your face warm up. geto fucking suguru just kissed you!

during all that week you were on cloud nine, so distracted and giggly.

of course geto notices you, always in the front row and ready to give the band some gifts, he sees how you try to dress up as one of them before they even realize they have a visual identity.

geto likes having fangirls, if anything that’s the best sign that the band is doing well. till that point he never considered engaging to one in a more intimate level. after all, women were never a problem for him, fans or not.

the problem is when they think more of the relationship than it really is. geto has always made sure they knew that sleeping together and treating them well was not synonymous to committed relationship.

because he already is committed. to his music. so after spending the whole day trying to come up with a new song so the band may finally have a complete album to present to a record, he takes a frustrated break picking up his phone and to his dismay only finding a long message about how he hurt someone’s feelings.

“oh for fucks sake” he lets his phone fall on the couch and take his keys, this is not a good week to quit smoking.

“geto?” he hears a small voice calling him after he leaves the convenience store with a very much needed cigarette on his lips and nicotine in his system.

“oh hey” he recognizes you by name and face.

“you’re using the lighter” you point out enthusiastically, that was a limited edition you bought and gifted him.

“that’s right, you bought me this, did i say thank you?” he’s genuinely wondering, your face heats remembering the kiss.

“i-its no big deal” you brush it off, since he doesn’t seem to be in a rush you start to babble about one specific song and everything you loved about it, knowing he was the composer.

“do wanna go to my place?” he says after quietly listening to your passionate thoughts. you think steam is about to come out of your ears at how hot your face got.

geto throws away what’s left of his cigarette and takes your hand, not really waiting for a response since the heart in your eyes is pretty obvious.

“you’re so cute” he says with his face mushed into your breasts as he guides your movements on his lap. you never guessed when you came out this morning you would be riding your favorite guitarist’s dick a few hours later, if you knew you probably would’ve put a sexier lingerie. not that he would care, by the way he pushed your bottoms down all at once he probably didn’t even know what color your underwear was.

geto pulled your hair tilting your head to meet his mouth, he devoured you so intensely, so overwhelming… you came not even needing your clit to be touched, just by having him inside you and breathing into your mouth like that was enough.

for suguru it was all a power trip, when he saw you after a concert he knew it wouldn’t take you much sweet talking to get you in his car.

he quickly mumbled an excuse to meet the band at the bar later and in just a few minutes he had you bobbing your head down his cock, “just like that, gorgeous, so good” his head is thrown back as he moans softly.

and as the band grew more popular and they had to travel to other cities to perform he would always count on you to meet him at his hotel room.

“geto~” you mewl his name as he eats your pussy from behind so lewdly.

from the very first time you knew it was over for every other guy the moment he touched you. no matter what anyone said about geto, that he was using you, he would never marry you, you didn’t care. you would be his devotee as long as he wanted.

and geto got all he wanted, a pretty little thing that didn’t complain or asked too many questions and best of all: that loved his music and understood his work.

“i know, you have to practice” you kiss him one last time before gathering your clothing from the floor, the hints of him not wanting to stay over were all memorized at this point, so you turn your back at him and make your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

but the usual sound of the door opening and closing never came, instead you saw him coming from behind to lace strong arms around your waist, “well maybe just tonight” he smells your hair and through the mirror he sees the tattoo bellow your belly button, just above the hem of your underwear. your prof of love: the logo of the band.

geto touches it and you giggle at the feathery feeling, like a tickle, he likes that sound. he likes you.

“i was thinking you should get another, right here” a finger caress your right ass cheek.

“the same one?” you ask confused.

“no, silly, something else” he gets down hands caressing your hips and kissing the extension of your butt, “my name.”

[inseobts]

Captain

characters: luffy, law, shanks, kid and ace

inspired by: 'Captain' - Kang Seungyoon || spotify || youtube || apple music

a/n: hope this doesn't suck tbh

words count: around 1.0k - 1.5k each

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Luffy:

The sun is hot on your back as you lean over the Sunny’s railing. Waves crash below, sparkling like tiny stars in the ocean.

You sigh, but it’s not a sad sigh, just… tired.

Luffy’s jacket hangs off your shoulders, far too big, smelling faintly of salt and him. He’d dropped it on you earlier without a word, like he always did. Just something that happened now, the way you always saved the last bite of your food for him, or how he tucked your hair behind your ear when you weren’t paying attention.

“Oi! You’re making a weird face!”

You jump a little, turning around fast.

Luffy’s standing behind you, hands on his hips, grinning like he knows something you don’t. Which he usually does.

“I am not” you say.

“You are” he says “That’s your thinking-too-much face. I don’t like that one.”

You squint at him “You don’t like my face?”

Luffy laughs and walks up, grabbing your hand “Nah. I like your laughing face way better.”

Your heart does that stupid flip again. Luffy is always like this… saying small, silly things that hit you like cannonballs. You wonder if he even realizes what they do to you, or if he just lives like this, naturally, saying the exact thing you need to hear without trying.

He tugs your arm “Come eat meat with me.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You will be when you see Sanji’s new meatball thing. He said he made it just for me. That means it’s good.”

You don’t want to argue, so you follow him. His hand stays in yours as you walk. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t even think about it, like holding your hand is the most natural thing in the world.

And maybe it is. Maybe with him, all the strange, lovely things you thought you'd never have just… are.

The kitchen is loud. Usopp and Chopper are arguing about who can eat more. Sanji is yelling at Zoro to stop drinking straight from the soup pot. Nami rolls her eyes at everything. And through it all, Luffy’s hand stays in yours until he lets go just to sit.

Luffy sits down at the table and pats the spot next to him “Here. Sit.”

You sit.

Sanji brings over a plate with a small mountain of meatballs.

“Special recipe” he says, setting it down.

“Only for idiots who eat too fast and the people dumb enough to love them.”

“Yay!” Luffy cheers “That’s me!”

You raise an eyebrow at Sanji. He just smirks and walks off.

Luffy hands you a meatball. You take it. You chew slowly. He doesn’t. He shovels in three at once and nearly chokes. You thump his back.

“Maybe you shouldn’t eat too fast” you say.

“Too good,” he says between bites “Can’t stop.”

You laugh a little. He grins at you with his mouth full, face messy, eyes shining.

And somehow, in that moment, you feel more at home than you’ve ever felt on land. You bump your foot lightly against his under the table and don’t pull it away. He nudges back without missing a beat.

Later, when everyone’s tired and full, and the stars are peeking out, Luffy sits on the deck with you again. He lies down and folds his arms behind his head.

“Did you still have the weird face?”

“No” you say softly.

“Good.”

There’s a pause. The wind is gentle tonight. Your fingers inch toward his on the wooden deck until they touch. He doesn’t say anything, just shifts his pinky so it loops around yours.

You look at him and wonder if he knows. If he knows how much he saved you. If he knows that before this ship, before him, life felt so small.

“You’re thinking again” he says without opening his eyes.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be your captain forever, y’know.”

You blink “What?”

Luffy opens one eye and smiles at you.

“Even if you leave the crew. Even if you fly away like a bird. I’ll still be your captain. Okay?”

Your throat feels tight. You don’t say anything. You just nod and lie down next to him.

The stars look different from here. Brighter. Bigger.

Just like everything since you met him.

That night you have a nightmare... you often dream of fire.

It’s not real, not anymore. But the smoke curls around your chest when you wake up, and your heart races like you’re still running.

You sit up fast, hand on your chest. You're sweating.

The bed is warm beside you, a tangle of blankets and the faint imprint of Luffy’s sleeping form. He must’ve gone when he felt you stir.

Outside, the sea is calm. The ship creaks gently like it’s breathing.

You step outside the bedroom, careful not to wake anyone. The deck is dark, quiet. The kind of quiet that feels too loud when you’re carrying a storm inside.

You lean on the railing, gripping it hard. Trying to stop your hands from shaking.

You don’t hear Luffy approach. You never do.

“Bad dream?” he says softly.

You nod.

He doesn’t ask more. He just sits beside you on the wooden deck, cross-legged like a kid.

You look at him. He’s staring out at the ocean.

You whisper, “I wasn’t a good person before this. I did some things... things I can’t forget.”

Luffy shrugs “That’s okay.”

You blink “Okay?”

“You’re good now.”

Your breath catches “But—”

“I don’t care what you did. I care what you do now. You protect people. You laugh with us. You love this ship.”

You bite your lip “Sometimes I think I don’t deserve to be happy.”

Luffy’s head tilts “Why?”

“Because I hurt people. I made bad choices.”

He frowns, serious now “Everyone hurts people. Even me. You ever see me not punch someone?”

“That’s different.”

“Why?” he says “Because I’m the captain?”

You open your mouth, then close it.

He scoots closer, his leg bumping yours “Listen. I don’t pick people because they’re perfect. I pick people who need a place. You needed one. So I gave you mine.”

Your eyes sting.

“And if you’re scared sometimes... that’s fine. I’ll be scared with you.”

You let out a shaky laugh “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Luffy grins “Thanks.”

Then he does something rare.

He reaches out and pulls you into a hug.

It’s warm and a little awkward, his chin bumps your shoulder, but his arms are strong. Solid.

Safe.

You lean into him, just for a second. Just long enough to feel like maybe… maybe you can breathe again.

“I still got you,” he says “No matter what.”

The next morning, you’re quiet at breakfast.

Not sad, just full in a way that makes your chest feel warm. Luffy sits beside you like always, stealing half your toast without asking.

You don’t stop him. You just shake your head like you always do and let your knee rest against his under the table.

“Oi, Luffy, chew!” Sanji shouts from the stove “Don’t scare them off with your lizard face.”

Luffy puffs out his cheeks “I am chewing!”

You shake your head “Barely.”

He grins at you with crumbs on his lips “You finally smiled.”

“Huh?”

“You smiled at me,” he says, like it’s some great discovery “I like that.”

You feel your cheeks heat up.

Chopper climbs onto the bench next to you “You look different today,” he says thoughtfully “Lighter.”

“Maybe you finally slept” Nami adds, sipping her coffee.

“Maybe someone got a good hug last night...” Usopp says, wiggling his eyebrows.

You nearly choke on your juice.

Luffy doesn’t react “I give good hugs.”

Zoro snorts from across the table “Not with those rubbery arms.”

You stare down at your plate, smiling to yourself.

Later, you’re helping Robin tie down books in the library when Luffy finds you again. He peeks in like a kid looking for snacks.

“There you are!” he says “Come with me.”

You follow him without asking where. That’s just how it is with Luffy. You trust him.

He takes you to the upper deck where it’s quieter. The sea stretches out endlessly, sky blue and soft.

He sits on the edge and pats the spot next to him. You sit.

“I was thinking,” he says, picking at the brim of his hat “About last night.”

You look at him, curious.

“You said you didn’t deserve to be happy.”

Your chest tightens again.

He leans back on his hands “But you look happy now.”

You nod slowly “I am.”

He grins “Told you. I’m a good captain.”

You laugh a little “You are.”

Then, softly, you say it “This happiness I have right now… it was gained simply by listening to you and following your lead.”

Luffy tilts his head, eyes wide and bright “Really?”

You nod “You gave me a place. You didn’t even know me, and you still let me stay.”

“I knew enough,” he says “You were lost. I don’t leave lost people behind.”

You look down, fiddling with the seam of your shirt “I think I was scared to feel like this. Like I belong.”

“You do.”

You glance up. His face is open, honest—Luffy in his rare, still moments.

“You really think I belong here?” you whisper.

He nods “You belong with me.”

Your breath catches.

Not “with the crew”.

Not “on the ship”.

With him.

── .✦ Law:

The storm isn’t just outside.

It’s in the way Law walks the deck—slow, sharp steps, as if each one might cut the wood beneath his feet.

You watch from where you sit near the stairs, arms tucked around your knees. He hasn’t spoken in hours.

The sky above is black. Thunder grumbles like it’s trying to decide if it wants to scream.

He doesn’t flinch.

“Go inside” he says suddenly, without looking at you.

You stay where you are.

“I said—”

“I heard you.”

Silence again.

Then: “The wind’s picking up.”

“I’m fine.”

He turns his head just enough to glance at you, eyes narrowing “You’re stubborn.”

You shrug “You’re angry.”

“I’m thinking.”

“Loudly.”

He exhales through his nose—one of those short, sharp sounds that’s not quite a laugh, not quite a sigh.

You unfold your legs and stand, walking slowly until you’re beside him. Close, but not touching.

Close enough to feel the heat of him. Close enough that if you leaned in just slightly, your shoulder would brush his. But you don’t. Not yet.

“Is it about the intel?”

“No.”

“Then it’s about the crew.”

“No.”

“Then it’s about you.”

He says nothing.

The waves crash hard against the hull. Somewhere below deck, Bepo is probably pacing, waiting for the worst of the storm to pass.

But Law… Law doesn’t wait for anything. He carries storms inside him and tries to outpace them with silence.

You speak softly “Be at ease.”

He turns to look at you now, not annoyed, just… tired.

Your hand drifts to his arm, fingers barely grazing the fabric of his sleeve. You step in, gently, like approaching a wild thing. Like you’ve done this before—offering comfort without taking anything away.

“Let me watch your back now,” you continue, voice steady “My captain.”

His eyes search your face like he’s reading something in a language he forgot long ago.

“I don’t need—”

“I know.”

You take a step closer, your fingers brushing his coat sleeve.

“I’m not offering because you need it. I’m offering because you deserve it.”

His jaw tightens.

You shift your hand just enough to slide your fingers into his, letting them rest there—quiet and warm.

“Someone has to carry the weight when you can’t,” you add “Let it be me, even if it’s just tonight.”

For a long time, he doesn’t respond.

Then finally, he murmurs, “You talk too much.”

You smile “And yet you’re still listening.”

He doesn’t smile back but his shoulders drop, just slightly. And when the next gust of wind hits, he doesn’t flinch.

Because you’re there.

Because someone’s finally watching his back.

You lean in and press a kiss to his shoulder, not dramatic, just grounding. A promise. You feel him shift slightly toward you, almost imperceptibly.

The storm passes, but the cold stays.

You and Law sit under the overhang near the helm, out of the rain but not the wind. The ship creaks with each wave, but now it’s calmer. The kind of quiet that always feels like something is waiting.

He hasn’t spoken since you told him you’d watch his back.

But he’s still here.

You’re still here.

And that’s something.

You let your head rest lightly against his shoulder. His arm doesn’t move for a long moment, then slowly, tentatively, he curls it behind you, just enough that your bodies lean into one another.

“I thought you’d leave” he says at last, voice low.

You glance at him “When?”

“After Dressrosa. After the Doflamingo fight. Most people would’ve.”

“I’m not most people.”

He makes a soft sound in his throat, something between agreement and disbelief.

Then he says it.

“I didn’t expect you to stay this long.”

You blink “Did you want me to go?”

“No” he says too quickly. Then quieter “I just thought you would.”

You wrap your arms around your knees, watching the wet deck glisten under the moonlight.

“People leave you a lot, don’t they?”

He doesn’t answer.

You don’t need him to.

You reach over and take his hand again, threading your fingers through his with the same steady warmth you always give him. Your thumb traces soft circles over the back of his hand.

You take a slow breath and shift to face him more fully.

“You don’t always have to be the one doing the saving, Law.”

His head tilts, just slightly.

You lean forward but not too close, just enough to be clear.

“I’ll protect you now.”

The wind blows your hair into your face. You don’t move it.

He’s staring at you like he doesn’t understand the words. Like no one’s ever said them to him before and meant it.

“You think I need protection?” he asks, but there’s no bite in it. No challenge.

You smile “I think you’re tired of carrying everything alone.”

For a second, just a second, his expression softens.

Not in a dramatic way. Not like in the stories.

But his eyes lose that sharp edge.

He leans back against the wood behind him, shoulders dropping just a bit more than before. As if, maybe, he’s letting the idea settle.

Letting you settle.

You shift closer again and kiss his cheek, soft and slow, just near the corner of his mouth. He closes his eyes like he’s soaking in the quiet.

You don’t push it. You just sit with him, in the silence, your presence a quiet promise:

He’s not alone anymore.

The cold settles around you both like a second skin, but here, pressed close, there’s a different kind of warmth.

You lean into him slowly, head resting against his chest this time, right where you can hear his heartbeat. At first, he’s stiff. Not resisting, but still wired tight, like his body doesn’t quite remember how to relax.

You wrap your arms around his middle, pulling him into a soft, secure hold.

He lets out a breath against your hair. It’s quiet. Almost disbelieving.

“You don’t have to be alone anymore,” you murmur into his coat “Not with me.”

You feel it when something in him finally begins to loosen. Not all at once. Not dramatically. But like a knot unspooling deep inside.

His hand comes up, hesitant at first, then rests on the back of your head. His fingers thread gently into your hair, and you close your eyes at the feeling.

He doesn’t speak.

You tilt your face up toward him.

His gaze meets yours, wary, but no longer guarded. He’s let you in. At least a little. Enough.

You smile softly “Come here.”

And before he can argue, before he can overthink it, you press your lips to his.

One kiss.

Then another. Then another.

Soft and fast, like raindrops. Like a flurry of promises falling out of you all at once, impossible to hold back.

You kiss the corner of his mouth, his top lip, the edge of his jaw, then back to his mouth again.

With each kiss, you whisper:

“I will protect you now”

“My boss”

“My leader”

“My hero”

“My captain”

“My love.”

And something in him just… gives.

His breath hitches. His hands tighten around you, not pulling you away, but drawing you in. Letting you have him like this.

He exhales like surrender. His voice is barely above a whisper.

“…Fine. Do whatever you want.”

You press your forehead to his, smiling against his skin.

“I already am.”

And he doesn’t push you away. He doesn’t retreat behind silence.

He stays.

Wrapped up in your arms. Your warmth. Your words. Your kisses.

For once, Law lets himself be held.

── .✦ Shanks:

The first time you see him, it’s not on purpose.

You’re in a quiet port town, just passing through. Hiding, really. The kind of hiding that doesn’t involve running, it just means standing still long enough for the world to forget you.

Then the bar door opens.

And he walks in like he owns the ocean.

Red hair. Wide grin. A laugh that fills the room before he even speaks.

“Oi, Benn! I told you I could smell meat from a mile off!”

You glance up once and then away. You know who he is. Of course you do. Red-Haired Shanks. One of the Four Emperors. A name that carries storms.

You sip your drink and try not to look again.

It doesn’t work.

He notices.

You end up at the same table, somehow. He’s charming like that, pulls people in like the tide.

“What’s your story?” he asks casually, swirling his drink.

You shake your head “No story.”

“Everyone has one.”

“Not me.”

He smiles “You’re a terrible liar.”

You laugh despite yourself. It’s small. But he hears it.

“You’ve been drifting,” he says “I can tell.”

You pause “That obvious?”

He shrugs “Only to someone who’s done the same.”

Later, you’re sitting with him by the docks, the sea stretching out like a painting. He’s quieter now. Thoughtful.

You speak without meaning to.

“On a sea called loneliness… I’d come to lose my way.”

He turns toward you slowly, listening.

“My vision was dark. I didn’t know where I was going. I didn’t even know what I was looking for.”

Shanks doesn’t interrupt.

“But a single sailboat came close.”

He smiles faintly.

“And that happy ending became our story.”

He chuckles under his breath “You’re poetic when you’ve had rum.”

You smile, but it doesn’t fade.

“You’re the first person who didn’t ask me to explain why I left. Or who I used to be.”

“I don’t care who you were,” he says gently “Only who you are when you’re with me.”

The sea breeze lifts your hair. His eyes flick to it, and stay there a moment too long.

You don’t speak again for a while. There’s no need.

Two drifters. One sailboat. And, maybe, the start of something that doesn’t have to end in loneliness.

Years Later

The sun hangs low, golden and lazy, casting soft light across the deck of the Red Force.

Shanks is half-asleep in a chair near the railing, hat pulled down over his eyes. You’re sitting not far, feet propped up, notebook balanced on your knee. You don’t write often, at least not like this, but today feels different.

You glance at him. He’s relaxed, arms crossed loosely, the breeze playing with the hem of his coat.

Years ago, he was chaos walking. A whirlwind with a smile.

Now?

He’s still chaos. But he’s yours.

You smile and press your pen to the page.

“On a sea called L-O-V-E,

The sunlight dazzles as it reflects upon the water.

On that sailboat over there, are two people—

Just a captain and a sailor.

And that happy ending is our story.”

You pause.

Then close the notebook, leave it on the small table beside him, and go below deck. You don’t say anything. You don’t need to.

Later, just before dinner, he finds you in the galley. One arm wraps lazily around your waist from behind, pulling you in.

“I read what you wrote” he murmurs near your ear.

“Oh?”

“It was missing one thing.”

You raise a brow, glancing back at him “Yeah?”

He presses his forehead to yours “The part where the sailor becomes captain of the captain.”

You laugh, soft and full.

“In your dreams maybe” you tease.

“In our story” he corrects, grinning.

You shake your head and kiss him anyway.

It’s meant to be quick, teasing, familiar.

But Shanks doesn’t let go. His hand cups the back of your neck, thumb brushing the edge of your jaw as he kisses you again, slower this time. Deeper. Like he’s been waiting all day for this one quiet moment.

You melt into him. The galley fades, the ship fades, even the sea feels quieter.

When you finally pull apart, your forehead rests against his. Neither of you speaks right away. You don’t need to.

He closes his eye, brushing his nose against yours “You still take my breath away, you know that?”

You smile against his lips “Even when I’m just trying to steal your coat?”

“Especially then.”

He leans back, just enough to reach into his coat pocket and pulls out something small, wrapped in an old cloth. He unwraps it with care, revealing a silver ring etched with faint waves.

“Was gonna wait,” he says softly, “but then I read what you wrote.”

Your breath catches.

“It’s not a proposal, not exactly,” he continues, “but it’s a promise. That whatever seas we sail, whatever storm hits… I’m yours. No matter what.”

You stare at the ring, heart swelling in your chest “Shanks…”

He slides it onto your finger, his touch feather-light “You don’t need to wear it if you don’t want. I just... I just wanted you to have something that says what I can’t always say.”

You take his hand in yours, kissing his knuckles “You already say it. Every time you look at me like I’m not just part of your crew, but like I'm part of you.”

He chuckles, a little unsteady “You are.”

The kiss you give him now isn’t playful. It’s reverent. Grateful. Fierce and fragile all at once.

Afterward, you whisper, “My captain. My anchor.”

He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then your forehead, murmuring between each one:

“My light. My home. My heart.”

Later, beneath a sky dusted with stars, you lie curled in the hammock together—his coat draped over both your shoulders, his hand resting over yours, thumb absently brushing the ring now on your finger.

He presses a kiss to your temple and murmurs, “I used to chase the horizon. But then I found you.”

You smile into his chest.

“I’ll chase it with you,” you say softly “As long as you want.”

He holds you tighter.

“Forever sounds good to me.”

And with the steady lull of the sea beneath you and the warmth of him around you, you sleep in the safest place you’ve ever known.

── .✦ Kid:

The ship is on fire.

Well, not literally. But that’s what it feels like after the ambush.

Scorched sails. Blood on the deck. Your ribs ache, bruised or maybe cracked, and Killer’s bleeding from his arm, trying to stop Heat from collapsing.

Kid is in the middle of it all, rage and metal, torn coat, growling orders no one can follow fast enough.

“Damn it, where’s WIRE?!”

“Dead if we don’t patch him now!” you shout back, dragging your half-burned jacket off to wrap someone else’s wound.

He doesn’t answer. His jaw is clenched tight, eyes scanning everything like he’s trying to hold the whole crew together with nothing but anger and magnets.

But you’re not afraid.

You’ve seen him like this before. Broken knuckles. Cracked teeth. And still standing. Still fighting.

Still trying.

He doesn’t realize you’re next to him until your hand grabs his shoulder.

“Kid.”

He glances at you, blood across his cheek, chest rising like a storm trying not to explode.

“We’re not dead,” you say “We’re still here.”

He scoffs “Barely.”

You shake your head “You always think surviving means losing.”

“Because it is,” he snarls “Every fight takes something from us.”

“Now just breath” you snap, stepping closer “Look at me.”

His eyes go wide.

You don’t blink.

“I’ll follow you. I’ll follow you ‘til the end of my days.”

The words hit the air like thunder, loud, real, and permanent.

You lift your chin with your biggest smile.

“YES, SIR.”

Something shifts in his face, not softness, not yet. But a crack. A flicker. The kind of look someone gets when they realize they’re not alone.

His voice is low.

“You’re not scared of me?”

You grin.

“I was.”

“And now?”

“I’m yours.”

And for once, Kid doesn’t argue.

He just takes your hand, calloused and shaking, and holds on like it might be the only thing left that doesn’t burn.

The ship’s quiet now.

Not peaceful but quiet. The kind of silence that settles after screaming, after gunfire, after the medics say “He’s gonna make it” and you finally let yourself breathe.

You check on everyone first. Heat’s stable. Killer’s stitches are clean. Wire’s conscious.

Only after you’ve made sure the others are resting you walk down the hall to his door.

It’s half open.

You knock once anyway.

“…It’s open” Kid’s voice grunts from inside.

You step in.

He’s sitting on the edge of his bunk, shirt off, fresh bandages wrapping his torso and arm. His metal hand is still twitching from leftover stress—little sparks crackling at the edges.

He doesn’t look at you at first.

But he doesn’t tell you to leave.

You shut the door and walk over, slow and calm, like approaching a wild thing that might still bite.

“You good?” you ask softly.

“Peachy” he mutters, eyes on the floor.

You eye the bruise on his jaw “Looks like it.”

He grunts, but says nothing more.

You stand there for a few long seconds. Then you exhale, toss your jacket to the side, and without asking, climb onto his lap, straddling him gently.

He stiffens a little “The hell are you—?”

“Shut up.”

He blinks. You settle your weight down, arms looped around his neck, foreheads almost touching.

His breath slows.

“…You’re gonna make me soft” he mutters, voice rough.

“You are soft” you say, brushing his hair back from his face.

He huffs “Right.”

You smile.

Then, quietly, honestly, you speak “My hero.”

His jaw tenses.

“My captain.”

He doesn’t meet your eyes.

“Every day in this world feels like a battle… but you’re the captain who brought me to my victory.”

He looks up at that.

There’s a flicker of pain, disbelief, maybe guilt. He shakes his head.

“We lost.”

You don’t flinch. You bring a hand to his cheek, cupping it firmly.

“We all survived.” You lean in, eyes locked with his “Is it really a loss?”

The words hang between you, heavy and warm.

He stares at you for a long, long moment. Then finally, his voice low, almost gravel, he says “…No.”

You nod.

“Good,” you whisper “Now let me hold you until your stupid brain believes it.”

He lets you.

He even wraps his arms around you, tentative at first, then tight, like maybe you’re the anchor he didn’t know he needed until tonight.

You rest your forehead against his, feeling the tension bleeding out of him inch by inch.

His metal hand settles at your back, warmer than it should be. Steady.

“You always this bossy?” he grumbles, voice low but not annoyed. Almost… fond.

You grin “Only when you’re being dramatic.”

“Dramatic? I got impaled.”

“And still talking,” you say sweetly, brushing your nose against his “Clearly not fatal.”

A quiet sound escapes him, not quite a laugh, but really close. He pulls you closer, jaw pressing to your shoulder, voice muffled against your skin.

“You scare the hell out of me sometimes.”

You smile “Good. Keeps you on your toes.”

You shift slightly, just enough to ghost a kiss across his cheekbone. Then another, soft at the corner of his mouth. Then one more right on his lips, softer and a bit longer.

He exhales, like you’ve stolen all the fire out of him with that one simple touch.

You whisper against his mouth, “I meant what I said.”

“I know.”

“My hero.”

He groans lightly “You’re gonna kill me with that shit.”

“My captain” you say again, this time planting a kiss under his jaw.

“I’ll throw you overboard” he warns half-heartedly, pulling you tighter.

“No you won’t.”

He doesn’t argue.

You rest your head against his chest, listening to the slow thump of his heart, and he buries his fingers in your hair like it’s the only thing grounding him.

“You’re the only thing that makes this worth it” he mumbles after a while.

You grin again, eyes closed “Took you long enough.”

“Shut up.”

You don’t.

You just nuzzle in closer, his warmth surrounding you, his heartbeat steady against yours, and for once, even on a ship held together by bolts and scars and sheer, everything feels unshakably, impossibly whole.

── .✦ Ace:

The waves crash steady against the ship, stars scattered across the sea like someone spilled the sky.

You’re sitting on the edge of the deck, legs swinging over the side, the ocean dark beneath you. Most of the crew’s asleep. Only you and him are still awake.

Ace drops down beside you, barefoot and shirtless, sea breeze ruffling his hair. He smells like smoke and salt and freedom.

"You're gonna fall in one day" he says, nudging your leg with his knee.

You glance over "Then you better be ready to dive in after me. Oh wait, you can't even swim anymore!"

He grins "I'd like to see you try drowning."

You bump your shoulder into his "I did once, remember? Before you even formed this crew... That's how we met."

He goes quiet.

You weren’t joking.

Neither was he, when he dragged you back to the ship half-dead, coughing seawater, chest heaving as he yelled your name like it was the last thing keeping him afloat.

That was the first time he held you like something fragile.

And the first time you knew he’d never let go.

You look out at the sea again "You saved me."

"Hm?"

"Back then. And now. All the time, really."

He leans back on his hands "You act like I’m some hero."

You shake your head "No. You're not a hero."

He laughs "Gee, thanks."

You turn to him, steady “I'm your sailor. You're the captain. You saved me from drifting.”

He blinks. His grin fades, not in a bad way, just... softer. More real.

“I never saved anyone” he says after a second.

“You did, and I'm not talking about that time...” you whisper “You just don't realise it.”

He doesn’t speak, but you feel his hand brush yours, fingers grazing yours like he wants to hold on, but doesn’t know how.

So you do it first.

You intertwine your fingers with his, firm and warm.

“I didn’t follow you ‘cause you saved me that day” you murmur “I followed you ‘cause I finally felt seen.”

He swallows hard.

Then says your name... just your name, but it sounds like a promise.

Not grand. Not dramatic.

Just true.

And that’s all you ever needed.

Years Later

For once, everything’s quiet. No Marines, no missions. Just you, a sleepy harbor, and one very shirtless fire-user leaning against the rail with a half-eaten orange in hand.

You step outside, towel-drying your hair from the bath, and lean beside him.

He grins at you like always, like you’re his favorite sight in the world.

You smirk.

“Hey, Captain.”

Ace groans immediately, tossing the orange peel at your feet.

“You still call me that?” he says, exasperated “It’s been years since I stopped being a captain, Y/N. Drop it already…”

You shrug innocently “But it suits you.”

Before he can roll his eyes harder, you lean in and plant a quick, soft kiss on his lips.

Then whisper, just close enough for him to feel your breath “My boss. My leader. My hero. My captain.”

Ace exhales like you’ve just made his heart do a backflip, but he plays it cool... barely.

“Ugh,” he groans dramatically, gently pushing your face away with one hand “Can’t you just be a cute lover and call me… I don’t know, boyfriend? Honey? My love?”

You blink at him, lips twitching, then smirk.

“Alright, sure. How about... Flamey Hot Dumbass Supreme?”

He stares at you.

“...That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

You grin wider “What? It’s affectionate.”

Ace covers his face with one hand, groaning “What was I even thinking that day I confessed to you and kissed you...”

You press a kiss to his cheek “That I was the only person who could make your life this fun.”

He huffs but he doesn’t argue.

He just pulls you closer, tucking you under his arm, and lets the sunset burn quietly around you both.

The laughter fades slowly.

Ace still has his arm around your shoulders, thumb brushing slow circles on your upper arm. You rest your head against his bare chest, listening to the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat.

The orange-sweet breeze brushes past. The sun’s dipped lower now, gold turning to pink.

He doesn’t speak for a long while.

And then softly, without teasing “You’ve been sitting next to me all this time…”

You glance up, and there’s something in his eyes that makes your chest squeeze.

“Yeah” you whisper “Where else would I go?”

Ace lets out a breath that almost sounds like disbelief. His fingers move up to touch your cheek, warm and careful.

“I was so busy back then. Fighting. Running. Trying to prove something. I didn’t even see it at first.”

“See what?”

“You” he says “Of course.”

You smile, nudging his nose with yours “Took you long enough.”

His other hand finds your waist, pulling you gently closer until your knees are nearly in his lap. His voice drops “I love you.”

You blink, heart thudding.

He’s said it before, during arguments, in bed, drunk off sake. But this time? This time it’s bare, and slow, and steady.

You wrap your arms around his neck and whisper against his lips:

“I love you too, firebrain.”

You’re both smiling into the kiss when—

“Yo.”

You freeze.

Ace groans out loud, forehead thudding against your shoulder as Marco’s voice cuts you.

You both turn, Ace’s hand still on your thigh, your face flushed, as Marco stands with a completely deadpan expression.

“Am I interrupting?”

Ace doesn’t even lift his head “You think?”

Marco shrugs “Well, you're not in your room, you know? That’s basically an invitation.”

You’re trying not to laugh as Ace flips him off without looking.

“Five minutes, Marco” you plead.

Marco holds up his hands, already walking off “Sure, sure. Just letting you know dinner’s ready... lovebirds.”

Ace groans again, shoving his face into your neck as you laugh harder.

“I swear I’m gonna set that pineapple on fire.”

“Sure you are, Captain.”

“…Don’t start.”

[wonubby]

obsessed - k! bakugo

2. hire someone to 'leak' crude pictures of the two of you on holiday

synopsis - despite knowing you've successfully bagged katsuki bakugou, aka pro hero dynamight, his fans are still shipping him with his ex. so what's a better way to claim him than leaving little trails of your love on him? specifically, his body.

warnings – fluffy and suggestive, bakugo death mention but only briefly.

prev - masterlist - next

katsuki wasn't stupid. he knew what your plan was, and honestly? he didn't give two fucks. you were bound to reach your breaking point one day.

he actually loves this side of you. you matched his inner freak on some level. of course, he was still crowned as the 'bitch' in your relationship, given his infuriating attitude.

you, however, were overjoyed. everything fell into place.

phase one? complete. phase two? already in motion.

you and katsuki had travelled to the Bahamas for the week. it was a little getaway for the two of you since he's always busy fighting.

the first two days were spent wrapped in the sheets. the warm air creating a sexy atmosphere that kept the male going. something about fucking in the heat, getting all sweaty, and using his quirk in the midst of the act got him heated.

not that you were complaining though; you were blessed with the most amazing orgasms of your life.

anyway, today, the two of you decided it was the perfect time to head to the beach... with some secret company.

was it a bit desperate to call the paparazzi, getting them to leak pictures of you and your fiance? possibly.

was it going to make that bitch burn? absolutely.

"are you finally ready, babe?" his gruff voice called out to you.

letting out a breathy chuckle, you hooked the last earring on before facing him. "yep," you said, popping the p, "how do i look baby?" you did a little twirl, letting your frilly, leopard tankini flay around you.

smirking, katsuki placed two hands on your hips, biting his lip at the sight. "you always look amazing, sweets. but this? this makes me want to cancel our plans and keep you inside." he said, nuzzling his nose into your neck.

"well, sucks for you, katsu, because whether you like it or no, we're going out there. you can channel all of your inner fuckboy when we're on the beach." you teased, placing two hands on his chest, pushing back.

katsuki was wearing an unbuttoned white shirt with a pair of khaki shorts. his muscles were on display, including the couple of scratch marks you had left on his chest from this morning.

you placed a kiss on his lips, slow and sensual, subtly biting his lower lip as a warning. "worry less about fucking me and more about how you're going to act all lovey for the 'hidden' cameras."

"yes ma'am," he chuckled. boy did he love the new you.

walking towards your purse, you grabbed the keys, throwing them at him before heading to the door. "grab the speaker; i'm making my way to the car."

the car ride was decent. old 2010s music blasted through the window, as your hair flowed behind you, occasionally stopping to kiss katsuki during the red lights.

you were truly living life.

the moment you reached the beach, the feeling of the dry, hot sand beneath your feet had you relaxing. finally feeling like you could breathe. katsuki was quick behind you, tugging off his unbuttoned shirt and throwing it into a pile of your clothes.

"come here; let's get some sunscreen on you before you look like a tomato," he joked. you scoffed, touching his chest before turning around.

his hands slid up your body, slowly massaging the skin tenderly. your eyes snapped shut, leaning back onto his body as he began. "feels so good, kat. maybe i should make you my personal masseur." you giggled.

"yeah right, like i already don't do all 'at." he groaned teasingly.

as he continued to rub the cream all over your body, you locked eyes with the photographer hidden in the bush. a smirk crawled onto your face as you quickly turned around and faced katsuki.

"have i ever told you how hot you are, baby?" you questioned, eyes half-lidded as you looked at him with the most innocent eyes.

"hmm, no i don't think so." he raised an eyebrow in false confusion. "why? is there something you need to tell me?" his eyes trailed over your body, large hands moving from your hips to your ass.

"nope!" you laughed, running away from the boy and into the water.

"you tease!" he yelled, moving fast to reach your now wet body.

the moment he caught up with you, you were pulled flush against his body as he brought you into a searing kiss. every kiss you shared with katsuki felt magical. he made you feel something. made you mean something.

he was all you could ever ask for, the man of your dreams. you spent your childhood following him around. watching him bully izuku, win the sports festival, and even watching him die. but, during those times, your love for him was simply platonic.

it wasn't until you both bumped into each other while he was on patrol that everything changed. a few months after his breakup with amira, he had contacted you, asking you out on a dinner date. at first, the two of you thought it wasn't anything serious until you shared your first kiss together under the night sky as snow painted the pavement.

breaking away from the kiss, you smiled softly at the man. "i love you." the three words were muttered so softly he could barely hear them.

"i love you too, pretty." he smiled, leaning down and pressing kisses to your neck. tongue poking out to trace the purple marks he left the night prior.

a moan left your lips at the sensation, smiling softly as your hands dragged into your hair. the slight flash of a camera caught your eyes as you nudged katsuki with your knee. he seemed to understand the cue as he effortlessly picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

the moment became intense with mouthwatering kisses and bites being marked all over your body. it clearly gave the photographer what he needed.

"you might be as mean as i am kats. you must really hate her to be doing all this for me."

"i hate everyone. you're just lucky."

the moment you got home, the internet was going wild.

the pictures were up and everyone was going crazy. fans were trending #DYNAMIGHTBACKMUSCLES, #DYNAY/NFUCKING??? and IN PUBLIC IS CRAZY all over twitter. they analysed the way he held you, how he kissed you and, most importantly, the marks on his back and your neck. their most favourite picture was the one where the reddish handprint on your ass was noticeable.

however, the best reaction was from amira. immediately after the pictures were posted, she turned to Instagram, posting a photo dump. the said dump included photos of food, half-empty wineglasses, beach pictures from last year and an old picture of her hand in katsuki's.

the public were immediately quick to notice the types of pictures and who she posted. some sympathised with her, while others called her out on her shitty behaviour. and maybe others included you because you didn't hesitate to post a tweet.

one that read: "he said thank you for the character development. we’ll send flowers."

yeah, you definitely broke the internet.

© 2025 wonubby— All rights reserved. Please don't post my work as your own on any other sites.

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[blooddlusts]

HOW CAN I SNOOZE ⋆｡°✩ ot7

( I CAN'T LOSE WHEN I'M WITH YOU ) ── sleepy boys want to stay in bed with you

enha x fem! reader (established relationship, fluff, kissing skinship, suggestive comments, them just being clingy boyfriends and just wanting to stay in bed while cuddling you)

word count: 1.23k

kiara yaps: taking nine credits in the spring semester was NOT a good idea, definitely regret cramming in a four month course work into two months lmaoo —this has been in my drafts for a minute and i apologize that i've been offline :(

LEE HEESEUNG

as soon as your alarm goes off that man has you in a chokehold. well, not literally, but it might as well feel like it. heeseung has his arms around your neck, his legs wrapped around your torso and he's putting his whole body weight on you. there's no escape from his grasp as he's placing kisses on your cheek and begging you in his morning voice to stay with him bed. it's adorable, it's cute. and you can't help try to pry his arms off of your body; not like it works, he's only going to hold you tighter. and while he's holding you into his arms, pressing his body against yours begging for you to stay —he's whispering the most dirtiest comments in your ear to make you blush. heeseung may not be fully awake, but he knows how to press his lips to your neck and just beg for you to stay in his arms.

"heeseung please, i have to go to work,"

"just five more minutes,"

PARK JAY

you don't even have to touch your alarm because jay is already turning it off. he's grabbing your phone and already calling the number of your boss from muscle memory so that you can stay home. don't even think about trying to protest and trying to snatch your phone back. he's literally going to wrap one of his arms around you, place a kiss to your forehead and tell you to go back to sleep. putting up a fight with a man who could shower you with all of the gifts you want in the world is pointless. the only reason why he dares to be extra is to secure more hours with you in bed. once he calls your boss, it's game over. your boss is afraid of jay to even say anything back (he threatened to buy the company), which means there's a smile lingering on his lips. you can whine, you can beg to go to work, you can plead with him to let go and get out of bed —but jay is going to hold on to you like you're the only person in the world.

"jay what did you say to my boss?"

"don't worry about it, my love,"

SIM JAKE

once your alarm goes off, he's burying his face inside the nape of your neck while begging in his morning voice for you to say in bed. if that doesn't work, he's going to start placing kisses down your neck in hopes that it will make you stay. and if that isn't convincing, consider his thumb stroking your cheek while he plays with your hair as his next attempt to make you stay in bed. most of the time, just burying his face in your neck is enough for you to smile and lean into his arms that beg for an embrace. there's something adorable about turning around and seeing him give you a sleepy smile before kissing you on the lips. you have to give jake some credit in how convincing he is for you to linger in his arms just a little longer. work can wait, seeing the corners of his lips break into a smile as he falls asleep holding you makes everything better.

"you're lucky i love you, jake,"

"just shut up and let me hold you,"

PARK SUNGHOON

he's already not a fan of alarms. much to having a punctual schedule and being on time to things, sunghoon is willing to make that exception when it comes to you. he thinks the alarm you have set every morning is aggravating —like it actually pisses him off. consider it a diabolical act, but once you're already asleep, he'll disable your alarm. which means he gets as many hours as he wants with you the next morning since you'll sleep through the "alarm" you've set. okay, maybe it's a little mean. but he'll at least make sure that you're up so you have enough time to come to work without being horrendously late. the way he groans in the morning when you wake up, how he immediately wraps his arms around your waist and tells for you to stay —he just wants you to linger just a little bit longer.

"sunghoon, did you turn my alarm off again?"

"i don't see you complaining,"

KIM SUNOO

when your alarm goes off, sunoo gets grumpy. like his hair is all messy, he's squinting because the sun is in his eye and more importantly he doesn't want you to leave. instead, he grabs you by the wrist, and pulls your hand up to his hair. consider yourself screwed because there's nothing that boy loves more than you playing with his hair. sunoo has no filter in the mornings, he'll say things as it is which means you have to snatch your phone away from him before he cusses at your manager for making you go to work. he's so stubborn that he's going to be holding you in his arms, planting kisses down the side of your face with such tenderness that you're just melting in his embrace. consider your efforts to go to work wasted —you can't win the battle against sunoo.

"how long are you going to keep doing this?"

"when you quit your job and decide to stay in bed with me,"

YANG JUNGWON

he doesn't like being reminded every morning that you have to go to work. as soon as you sit up in bed to stretch your arms or try to process that you're awake —he's taking you down. no, like literally. somehow jungwon has secret wrestling skills that you don't know about because he has arms wrapped around your waist and throwing you back into bed. and that's how it's going to stay, his arms around your waist, him resting his head on your chest as he cuddles up to you in bed. all you can do is accept your fate and run your hands down his back as he holds you tightly in his arms. if you're lucky, he'll give you some time to get ready for work. but if that doesn't happen, just accept the fact that there's going to be a cheeky smile on his lips as he's humming tunes in his morning voice.

"you really have to stop tackling me, babe,"

"then stop going to work,"

NISHIMURA RIKI

oh you are so screwed. consider yourself in one of those "escape horror" video games that gave you nightmares when you were a kid. niki is not one to be trifled with when it comes to waking up to your alarm early in the morning. there's something about that glare that he gives you that makes the hairs on your neck stand up. but the fear is immediately replaced with giggles as he throws his whole body weight on you. that man is laying on top of you like you're his personal pillow. there's no escape, just him laying on your chest, wrapping his arms around you and literally snoring while you just lay there trying to shimmy your way out to get to work. of course, you give in and press a kiss to his head while you start to stroke his hair. you have to give him some props when it comes to making you stay in bed with him —even if it means becoming a human pillow.

"niki, can you get off me now?"

"let me think about it —no."

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