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[ccoconutmall]

✐ᝰIF ONLY SHE KNEW

⪼ home

yuta sighed as he cleaned off the counters with the wet rag, toge was busy taking an order, his voice cutting through the soft music playing inside the cafe. they’ve had this job for almost 2 years, and it still feels like the same routine. clean, talk to rude customers here and there, clean some more, then go home. yuta looked around so he could find something to operate his time, seeing as he had already refilled the cups, pastries, and napkins. he even cleaned the tables. it felt like he cleaned this place 6 times to get ready for the rush that was bound to come soon.

but the sound of the bell ringing to indicate a new person walking through made him look up. a large gasp escaping his mouth as he ducked down to hide behind the counter. what were you doing there? out of all the people he had to see today, when he was covered in sweat, dirty from all the cleaning he did today and he even had stains all over him. you hadn’t even noticed him upon walking in, you were busy with your friends. once toge finished giving a customer their order, he looked down to see yuta covering his head with his arms, trying to hide. “what the hell are you doing? get up you dingus.” he groaned when he saw yuta shake his head nervously, but when he looked up, he could see the reason why he was hiding. “seriously..? yuta. just take the order.” yuta shook his head again as toge groaned, not so much that he had to take your order, but the reason he had to take it was because yuta was acting like a scaredy cat. again.

he gently moved him out of the way with his foot, not noticing yuta slowly walk away without trying to give himself away. “hello, welcome to the coffee bean, may i take your order?” there was a friendly smile plastered on his face, so you wouldn’t think he was as annoyed as he once previously was. putting on his best customer service voice. you hummed and looked up at the large tv menu mounted onto the wall before you started.

“can i get a vanilla bean latte with cold foam and a strawberry shortcake?” he nodded as he put in your order, looking towards your friends so they could put in their order. once he was done typing everything into the ipad, he looked back up at you “$12.50.” you nodded and handed him your credit card out of your wallet. he swiped your card and printed out a paper receipt with your order number on it, and with a smile, you were gone and went to find a seat with your friends. “see yuta, that wasn’t so.. bad?” 

he looked down at his feet, but yuta was nowhere to be found “oh you gotta be fucking with me.” mumbling to himself, he pulled out his phone while nobody was in line.

toge grumbled as he put his phone into his back pocket. yuta scanning the area before he fully came out and walked behind the counter. “go get the order ready.” toge demanded him pointing to the machine. yuta looked at him like a kicked puppy, but he silently did what he was told, and that was making your order. 

“ynnn…” nobara dragged out her words with a huge grin across her face. “is that the cute boy you wanted to see?” she giggled as the two guys looked at you as well, stopping what they were doing before. “oh my god… nobara, i didn’t come here because of a cute guy… i just wanted to hang out since we’ve been so busy with exams recently.” she sucked her teeth quietly and put her hand on her cheek looking over to the counter. she gasped loudly “what about him?!” her whisper yell made you jump a little and look over, there was a new person there. he was tall and skillfully fixing up your dessert, making sure he used the juiciest strawberries. you watched as he cut them up, his hands were delicately fixing up your stuff. yuji laughed at your reaction “oh, it has to be. look at how she’s watching him!” nobara quickly slapping her hand over yuji’s loud mouth. “shut up! we can’t let them know!” 

you rolled your eyes at them, but yuji was right, you were watching him use his hands a little intensely, like you could burn holes straight through his palms. would they believe you if you said it was just because you were watching him make your order? probably not. “guys. please, we’re not having another aaron situation!” you yelled in a hushed tone. all three of them deadpanned “bitch, aaron didn’t even know you, that’s different.” megumi groused, your mouth went slack, but he was also right.

 “how do you know he knows me?” you raised your eyebrow at him, megumi crossed his arms over his chest before he answered you again. “because yuta, was in our high school, and if he’s here, he probably goes to the same university.” you quickly turned your head to get a peak at his name tag, but before you could say anything, your order number was called out. 

“329?” yuta called out, his voice was sort of shaky, but he looked around. “bitch, go!” nobara pushed you out and you went up to the counter. “im 329.” you smiled at him, and he swore his heart started beating out of his chest, he could feel his ears get hot trying to swallow down whatever he was feeling in his stomach before handing you your stuff. “thanks yuta!” you gushed, your fingers gently rubbing against his as you took your order and went back to your table. 

he looked at his hands, dark red blush creeping onto his face as he suppressed the urge to go into the back alleyway where the employees normally take their lunch breaks and scream to the top of his lungs. he was over the moon to say the very least. it might’ve been a small gesture, but after knowing of you for 4 years and being shy to actually initiate anything, he thinks he did a damn good job at hiding how he really felt at that moment. a large, goofy grin was spread across his face. he could feel the ghosting touch of your soft, warm hands against his still. he quickly looked over at you as you talked to your friends and looked back at his hand. 

“why are you staring at your hand, you freak of nature?” toge quipped, but yuta didn’t even care. he just sighed dreamily and looked at him “she touched me..” toge’s eyes widened, he couldn’t believe that yuta actually was able to talk to you. even if it was just to call out your order. “and! she called me by my name!” toge could practically see hearts floating around yuta, it was like he was in a cartoony haze, and toge just nodded his head. “now, before she leaves, you should ask for her number. 

yuta nodded, honestly not hearing a word that left toge’s head, but he tried going along with it. toge watched as you went to the counter again, your friends leaving to wait for you in front of the store. “go! now!” toge pushed yuta to the counter again, which snapped him out of his thoughts. 

“hey, uh.. i wanted to give you a tip, the strawberry shortcake was really good.” yuta looked at you as you handed him a $5. he tried swallowing some spit, but his throat was dry. “it’s no problem.. uh,” he couldn’t stop stuttering but he continued on. “they’re my specialty, everyone always asks for them.” you laughed, then smiled at him “i see why!” he took the money from you, but before you could walk away he stopped you. “hey, i know you might not remember me.. but do you think i could.. maybe get your number?” 

your eyes widened as you looked at him, he was visibly blushing, you don’t even know how long he’s been waiting to ask you, and even though he was fully prepared for you to reject him, you smiled at him, and he swore he could die, right then and there. 

“sure!”

© property of ccoconutmall ‘24. please do not repost, copy, modify, or translate.

taglist;

@sunflowertingzzzz, @k0z3me, @mollzaj, @mixzimi, @chiefinvestigatoremma, @evieskibidi, @7nknown

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You stand behind the counter, ready to serve the next customer that comes through the door. If you thought the rush was bad, the lulls are worse. The time drags by as the clock seems to taunt you. You sigh again as you hear Bre clattering around in the back room. You’d rather be back there folding up empty boxes and scouring trays.

You yawn and waver on your feet. The small local cafe doesn’t have the consistent traffic of the franchised kiosk just down the block but there are still hectic rushes. The mornings just after nine, then at noon when the office workers run out for a refresh espresso or a lunchtime sweet, but the afternoons usually deliver no more than the errant college student on their laptop or a few friends in between visits to boutiques.

The door opens and you glance over at the man who walks through the door. He strikes you as out-of-place as he struts across the cafe, hitting a table with his thigh, and sneering at it as if it insulted his mother. He’s tall with broad shoulders, and his hair is slicked back while the sides of his head are buzzed. He wears a black turtle neck under and open jacket and a pair of matching slacks that show off his ankles. His loafers are a rippling grey and black snakeskin print with a shining silver buckle.

You grip the sides of the till as he approaches but he doesn’t look at you. You stare, a little put off by his lack of acknowledgement as he peers up at the menu. He steps forward, tapping his fingers on the counter as he blows out between his lips. A golden signet ring flashes on his pinkie. You’re still not sure he’s in the right place.

“Hello, sir, can I get you--”

“Shh,” he hisses and holds up his finger. You snap your mouth shut and blink. He squints at the menu. He hums, clucking as he gives a thoughtful look to the hand-painted letters. Alright?

You wiggle your foot impatiently, biting your tongue. You’re not an inherently rude person but some customers make you wish you were. You watch him and he finally lowers his chin.

“Oat latte. Half blonde espresso, half regular, with the toffee nut syrup and a sprinkle of cinnamon.”

You nod as you punch in his order. It’s quite the drink. Sometimes you think people just pile on to see how far they can push service workers. They can’t just have a simple drink. Some even request the temperature to the digit.

“Alright, got it, it’s fifty cents for the syrup, is that okay?”

“Fifty cents?” He echoes haughtily, “no, that’s not okay.”

“Um, okay, well, it’s uh, on the menu,” you crane to look behind you, “fifty cents for a flavour shot, twenty-five for whipped cream.”

“I didn’t ask about goddamn whipped cream. They don't charge me here, doll. Get me the goddamn drink,” he demands.

You reel. Admittedly, you’re new. You’re learning but your first lesson was simple; customers are awful.

“I can just take the syrup off, I guess,” you hit the x and the whole order disappears.

“Didn’t you hear me? No charge, honey. It’s on the house.”

You purse your lips and look at him. You raise a brow. Alright, this is a new one.

“Um, if you’d just hold on, I think... uh, I should ask--”

“Yeah, you better fucking ask,” he sneers as swipes at a stack of paper cups and sends them flying. You flinch out of the way and spin to burst through the door to the kitchen.

“Uh, Bre,” you say, “there’s a really angry dude out there and he wants a free latte so uh, what do I do about that?”

She looks over at you as she puts a tray of cookies on a cooling rack. She frowns and her forehead stitches. She pulls of her oven mitt and checks her fitbit.

“Shit, it’s Thursday,” she mutters as if it’s the end of time.

“Yeah, it is, so uh--”

She waves away your words with the mitt and tosses both on the counter as she hurries past you. Confused, you turn to follow her through the swinging door. You stay behind her as she goes to the till.

“Mr. Hansen, so lovely to see you, what were we getting today?” She chimes, more lively than you’ve ever heard you. At any other time, she’s dulcet, almost monotone, completely over the cafe lifestyle.

He scoffs and his eyes drift from her to you. He pokes his tongue into his cheek, “oat, toffee nut, half blond, half regular, cinnamon on top,” he notes each element tersely, “and how about you teach this one some goddamn manners.”

He glares at you and you give a wide-eyed look. You shrug at Bre as she glances over at you. She shakes her head subtly. You take a step back.

You grab a cup and she quickly takes it out of your hands, “I got it, stay out of the way.”

You put your hands up and back away. You don’t know what you did wrong. Who is this man? He smirks and hovers on the other side of the counter as he crosses his arms over his puffed chest. Bre brews a fresh espresso and steams the oat milk.

“I’m waiting, sweet lips,” he cups a hand to his ear, his other arm still over his chest.

You look back and forth.

“Apologise,” he demands.

Bre clears her throat and you glance over, your mouth falling open dumbly.

“Oh, uh,” you face the man again, “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t know--”

“Well, now you fucking do,” he sneers as Bre places a cup down before him and a paper bag.

“Mr. Hansen, there’s a cinnamon bun for you too. We just took em out of the oven.”

“You’re such a dear, Bre Bear,” he cooes, sending you a venomous snarl.

You cringe as he spins and strides out with his fare. You watch after him, still thoroughly perplexed. Bre wipes the counter with a cloth.

“The next time he comes in, give him whatever he wants,” she says quietly.

“Oh, I didn’t... who is he?” You garble.

“Better you don’t know. Just think of him as the boss,” she sends you a desperate look, her eyes gleaming, “if you know what’s good for you, you’ll smile and listen.”

She brushes you with her shoulder as she goes back into the kitchen. You furrow your brow and glance towards the door. The man’s just outside the windowed walls, watching you. He winks before he disappears beyond the next facade

[a-killer-obsession]

PITCHING TENTS ⛺️

Kid Pirates x AFAB Reader Modern AU Campground Series

🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞

It wasn't something you'd ever admit to those who knew you, they all made the reasonable assumption that you went camping to spend time alone. At first, that had been the case, but you'd quickly come to learn that other single men your age were doing the same thing, and you found yourself loving the thrill of a romp with a stranger.

Masterlist || AO3

PART 1/6 - LAY OF THE LAND

CW: None for this chapter, just R18 mentions of sex.

WC: ~3k

Taglist: @nocturnalrorobin

A/n: I'm vaguely setting this in my home country of NZ, based on a campsite I frequent, for entirely selfish purposes but also because it's easy to describe a place you've been to a million times. Anyway, when I mention forests those are the kinds I mean, no fear of a rogue bear or mountain lion ✌️

You pulled into the quiet campsite in the middle of nowhere as you did every year around this time. Set between large mountainous hills covered in dense forest, and boasting a pool heated naturally by nearby geothermal activity, the site was a popular, bustling location in the on season. You, however, enjoyed the off season, when it was quiet, almost entirely abandoned save for the grounds keeper and his dog, and a handful of long term residents, living out their retirements in quiet bliss in the RVs that lined the very back of the campgrounds. You parked your humble car in front of the office that was built alongside a small shop, usually selling entry and icecreams to locals who came here for the pools, but also held a selection of basics such as toilet paper and cup noodles for campers in desperate need of a grocery trip.

The gravel that lined the carpark crunched underfoot as you made your way to the wooden ramp that led to the office and store building, the whole complex no bigger than a shipping container. The eggy smell of sulphur from the nearby geothermal activity filled your nostrils, unpleasant at first but a smell you'd quickly get accustomed to as you always did. A bell rang as you opened the door, the older woman assigned to mind the store today hurrying out from out back, you could hear the TV she'd been watching as she came out front. This time of the year customers were nil to none, so the counters relied on bells for service, usually unmanned otherwise. The chances of someone stealing from the store while it was unoccupied were slim, but you could assume they had a camera set up to watch from a screen out back anyway.

“[Y/n]!” The old woman exclaimed, taking her seat behind the desk, “I was happy to see you on our books this morning”

“Can't miss my mid-year vacay, Marg,” you replied with a smile, pulling out your wallet and leaning against the desk. You'd been coming here for years, and Margie had worked here for just as long. “What do I owe ya?”

“Minus the deposit you already paid, that'll be $65 sweetheart,” she smiled, clicking a few buttons on the keyboard at a snail pace as she worked on printing a receipt. You handed her the cash and the til made a clunk as the drawer popped open, Marg replacing your four twenty dollar notes with a five and a ten and handing them back to you. You slipped them back into your wallet and she handed you a keycard for the gate that kept pool visitors and strangers out of the campgrounds. Well, their cars anyway, they could absolutely just walk around it.

“Usual spot sweetheart, I'm sure you don't need a map,” she stood to return to her back room. She was definitely getting older, and standing was clearly more difficult for her than it had been in previous years. You'd be sad the year you came to camp and weren't greeted by her friendly face

You thanked her and made your exit, getting back into your car and making sure to roll down your window. You slowly made the short distance to the card receiver, leaning out your window a little to hold the card against it. A small light flashed green and the metal arm creaked as it began to raise. Your car was small, so you didn't have to wait for it to raise completely before you were passing underneath it and navigating the familiar gravel roads to your favourite spot. There were no additional parking spots at each spot, you were expected to either park on them or leave your car in front of the office, so you pulled onto the grass alongside the road between the brick lines that marked the boundary of your spot.

Your usual spot was close to the middle of the grounds, directly across from the communal kitchen building, and just a thirty second walk from the main toilet and shower block. There were other, smaller toilet blocks scattered around the grounds, but this was the only one that featured showers and laundry. The kitchen building was also just a nice place to hang out, having a semi covered outdoor area framed by benches, one of the only places other than your own rented spot where you were allowed to drink alcohol, so it was a great place to meet other campers. At first glance, anyone would think a lone woman coming to a campground on the off season was here for peace and quiet. On the contrary, you found during the busy season there were usually far too many large families and happy couples. The off season was for singles, and you were here for one thing and one thing only: sex with strangers.

It wasn't something you'd ever admit to those who knew you, they all made the reasonable assumption that you were here to spend time alone, always turning down offers from friends to join you. At first, that had been the case. A spontaneous camping trip in the middle of the year to cool down after a particularly stressful project at work finally wrapped up. But you'd quickly come to learn that other single men your age were doing the same thing, and you found yourself loving the thrill of a romp with a stranger. The campsite being so empty also made for additional excitement, after many years here you'd had sex in or on most of the campground's amenities. The kitchen, the pool, the showers, on top of a laundry machine. It was an excitement you struggled to find in the big city you came from, without wasting money on a hotel room there was no good way to have sex with a stranger without being caught and without them knowing where you lived and getting attached, because like hell were you going to a strange man's house on your own.

You quickly set about working on your tent, pulling item after item from the back of your car and setting up with well practised speed. Soon you were closing the car boot and admiring your work. A decently sized, two chambered tent - the first chamber holding your cooler and a small fold down table for prepping a quick snack at night. The kitchens had multiple large fridges available for use, but you liked to keep your beer and soda in an ice bath in your tent for easy access. Every morning and evening you would go to the small camp store and buy a bag of ice, but for now the cooler was empty. The second chamber was larger and held most of your belongings, as well as a queen sized, double layered, inflatable mattress, already set with comfortable bedding. You even had a small fold down side table and camping lamp, which had a handle for late night toilet visits, and you'd run an extension cable from the site provided power you'd paid extra for, to your side table, so you could charge your phone and laptop from the bed. There was no internet here, and barely any phone signal, but you'd downloaded plenty of movies, tv shows and e-books before leaving home, as well as bringing a handful of actual novels, a switch console and drawing supplies. You weren't a fantastic artist by any stretch of the imagination, but it was a hobby you enjoyed and liked to practise anyway.

Outside your tent you'd also set up a small gazebo, after your first few years you'd gotten sick of being trapped inside the tent whenever it rained, and it also provided shelter for a large trestle table and tabletop barbecue so you could grill regardless of the rain. There were also a few collapsible chairs under the gazebo, a larger reclining one where you spent most of your time, and a smaller more basic one in case you had a guest. Aka another camper you intended to, or hand already fucked.

Satisfied with your setup, you took a quick break to check your phone and let your friends know you'd made it safe and sound, before climbing back in your car and heading to the grocery store in the small nearby town. The town was about a twenty minute drive away, a small oceanside tourist town that was mostly a pass through for those heading to a nearby famous beach, or to board boats or small privately run helicopters for whale and dolphin watching. You'd never bothered with the tourist traps, but you had once or twice hit the beach when you'd come during the on season with friends.

Thriving on local tourism, the town was humble compared to the city you'd come from, but large enough to have two supermarkets and a decent size home goods store, as well as a long stretch of boutiques and cafes. You head to your favourite supermarket, pulling into the half full car park and heading inside. You pulled up your list on your phone as you approached the doors, grabbing a trolley and setting about your shopping. Food for several days, beer, condoms, all very important. A novel that caught your eye, some trashy magazines, snacks for late night movies. A comically large cucumber caught your eye, and you snapped a pic to send to your friends with the caption ‘finally found a boyfriend 🥒💦’

Everything on your list gathered, you headed for the checkouts. A big, noisy, red ute pulled into the carpark as you started loading your groceries into the reusable totes you kept in the back of your car. It parked nearby and four fucking massive men jumped out, shoving each other and laughing boisterously. Definitely not locals by the looks of it, the back of the ute loaded up with what looked like camping equipment, tied down with straps and a piece of blue tarpaulin that didn't cover everything. You wondered if they'd be staying at the same grounds as you, it was the most well known in the area given its pool that was free use for the campers and the nearby hiking trail that offered incredible views of the entire area all the way out to the ocean. You licked your lips at their beefy builds, a girl could certainly dream, any of them would make a fine target for your sexual escapades.

The red haired one among them wolf whistled as he passed by, as you bent over the boot of your car to reach an extra tote that had fallen under a seat. You turned back to him, a hand on your hip, and winked playfully. He blushed, clearly not having expected that reaction, and his friends whooped and smacked him playfully. The group followed behind the redhead who was fleeing as fast as he could, and you continued packing away your groceries and returned your trolley before heading back to camp.

When you got back you unpacked everything, putting your chillables in the provided fridges, your name written in clear black marker over each package, and filled your cooler with the bag of ice you'd grabbed from the camp store on your way in before putting your beer and soda in to chill. The food that didn't need refrigeration was stored in your tent in a small latchable plastic box to keep any rodents away. All done with your chores, you ate a quick lunch of some pre-made food you'd grabbed at the supermarket, and decided to hit up the pool.

You made your way back up the gravel path from the pool, slide on sandals on your feet and a towel wrapped around your body. You were still in your bikini, your wet hair sending droplets of fresh water from the rinsing shower down your body. You watched a bird native to the area fly overhead before the sound of boisterous laughter caught your attention. Usually, at this time of the year, campsite guests would pick locations far away from each other, most people came here this time of the year to be alone. The grounds were arranged in blocks, each block holding ten or twelve sites, split with half to one road and half to another. There were a good amount of blocks, the grounds could probably accommodate a good couple hundred people at its peak, though right now you could only see three other tents far from yours.

You could hear the group before you spotted their red ute, the same one from the grocery store, obscured by your own setup until you got closer. They'd rented what looked like multiple sites right next to yours. Usually, you would be annoyed, but being that they were all so delicious you were delighted. This was going to be a successful holiday indeed.

The group was made up of four large men. There was the redhead who had whistled at you, he looked to be the youngest of the group, as wide as he was tall with a thick scar that ran down his face, giving him a natural bad boy appearance. He was soft looking, but in a strong, could definitely throw you over his shoulder sort of way, like a boxer. You noticed now that he was missing his left arm, it must have been facing away from you at the store. He wore eyeliner, which you noticed now they all did, along with a vibrant red lipstick that matched his hair. He looked very punk in dark ripped jeans and a leather vest he wore open, showing the scar that ran over his torso, along with a big fuck-off belt buckle and multiple silver chains hanging from his belt. The nails on his one hand were painted a darker red, and he had a black fabric headband holding back his wild hair.

Next was the shortest of the group, though certainly not short by normal standards. Dressed in a simple blue t-shirt and jeans, his impressive blond hair went all the way to his hips. His sharp featured face was partially obscured by messy straight bangs and a fluffy goatee, his lips painted purple as he flashed a bright toothy smile at the redhead.

The other two both dressed in a punk aesthetic much like the redhead, two slightly older men with impressive heights, one of them towering above all four of them. The shorter man had pale blue hair set in dreads, his face covered in unusual scars and thorn like tattoos wrapping around his neck and down his arms. The taller hid his hair under a black hoodie, but you could see pointed sideburns peeking out under them. He looked deliciously muscular under the tight netting shirt he wore.

The four of them were going about their setup, four separate single chamber tents laid out on the ground to sort their positions while the blond and tall one carried an excessive amount of grocery bags to the shared kitchen. It was just as well there was hardly anyone at the camp, they'd need a whole fridge on their own with that much food. Deciding to make your intentions clear as soon as possible, you laid a towel over your reclining chair and grabbed a beer, relaxing in your bikini that showed off your fit body. The redhead was quick to notice, and you tilted your sunglasses to wink at him. He realised why he recognized you and you heard him swear and scurry away. Cute.

You watched their entire setup process hungrily, watching their muscles flex as they unloaded the ute and set things in place. The redhead was no help with the tents, so he worked on setting up smaller things like their large barbecue and chairs while the other three got the tents erected. You couldn't help but notice that they hadn't brought a gazebo, they must be newbies. Hopefully the weather would be fine for however long they were staying, you hoped for more than one day, and given the amount of food they had you would guess at least three.

All of them eventually took notice of you, catching sly glances where they could. The blond one seemed the most confident, openly flexing and showing off, flashing you wide grins that you eagerly returned. Oh you would definitely be climbing that tree. The redhead continued to act shy, doing things that were clearly to show of his strength but refusing to meet your eye. The bluenette gave you kind looking smiles, and the tall one looked at you with suspicion, which you always responded to by changing which leg was crossed over the other, giving him a full view of your barely clothed centre. It didn't seem to phase him though, curious.

Your phone pinged at some point and you checked it, starting a conversation with your bestie about your current view. She was the only person who knew the real reason you took these holidays. You snapped a quick, sneaky pic of the four men as they set up.

You: [one attachment] You: finally found a boyfriend 🥒💦 Bestie: LMAO finally a man that can satisfy You: might have found a few more of those Bestie: yeah? Good huntin? 👀 You: new neighbours You: [one attachment] Bestie: fuck me Bestie: or rather, fuck you, hopefully You: the blond one is giving me eyes for sure Bestie: yeah? You layin down that charm girlie You: lets just say i just got back from the pool, and im enjoying a nice beer on my recliner 👙 Bestie: yes queen! Give them a good look at that meal, they're gonna be eatin you up in no time! You: fingers crossed 🤞 you know im in dire need of a good fuck, heres hoping they're not all just a gay polycule, that'd be just my luck Bestie: well it sounds like at least the blond is dtf You: hes got a cute ass smile, cant wait to ride it 🤠 Bestie: girl you are nasty! 😂 Go get that dick queen 🍆 ttyl, ily! You: luv u!

You put down your phone and finished your beer, deciding you'd laid around for long enough and it was probably time to get started on dinner. It was already late in the day, if you were going to attract any of the boys it likely wouldn't be today, you needed the novelty of camping to wear off for them before they came sniffing around for more excitement. Not to mention you were tired from driving all morning and setting up. You pulled a few things from the kitchen, carrying them back on one of your plastic camping plates, and grilled yourself a steak while you scooped a few premade deli salads onto your plate. You enjoyed your meal while reading your new book, noting the smell of meat in the air and the sounds of sizzling and beer cans opening nearby as your neighbours settled in for their own dinner.

When it got too dark to read you took your dishes to the kitchen to wash them, grabbed your toiletries from your tent, and took a quick shower. The weather was warm enough to make the short walk in your nightie, so you strutted back to your tent with your legs and cleavage on proud display, your nipples pert under the satin night dress which was trimmed with thick lace, hanging from your shoulders by delicate spaghetti straps. You'd never have walked around in public like this if you had neighbours you weren't trying to fuck, but you were more than happy for the boys to look at you, and look they did. You gave them a short wave before you entered your tent, grabbing a new beer and your laptop and settling in to watch a movie.

[NEXT PART]

[porcelainseashore]

Coffee & Secrets (2)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Rookie Cop! Leon x Barista! Fem! Reader

Summary: As a cozy coffee shop owner in Raccoon City, you’re no stranger to visitors seeking comfort, quiet, and warmth. When a rookie officer named Leon finds a kindred spirit in you, it sets in motion a chain of events that forever changes the course of your lives. An alternate universe set in Resident Evil 2 Remake and inspired by the game Coffee Talk.

Content & Warnings: Canon divergence, coffee shops, romance, slow burn, strangers to lovers, idiots in love, fluff, slice of life, swearing

AO3 Link

Chapter 2: Beginnings

“What kind of coffee shop only opens at night?”

Leon had kept his word, returning some time during the week after his work shift. However, Claire left you a postcard, delivered through him, with “I.O.U.” written at the back in an inky marker.

“My kind,” you quipped back, clearing out some of the cups and glasses, and wiping down the tables used by the previous customers who had left.

He shifted awkwardly between his feet, realizing the faux pas he had made. “Sorry, I didn’t mean any offense.” 

You looked up at him from the cloth rag on the table and smiled. “None taken, you’re just saying what comes to mind.”

“I like that,” you added for good measure.

Biting his bottom lip, his cheeks turned pink as he peered around the room before meeting your gaze again. “I-I… I guess I just wanted to know why?”

“Hah, she’s not interested in business! She’s rich!” a low bellow erupted from a ponytailed man sitting at the corner in an armchair. He laughed at his own joke, adjusting his spectacles along his nose bridge before guzzling down a thick, dark, syrupy brew from his cup. Then, he went back to reading his newspaper as if he had not uttered anything at all.

“Rude,” Leon whispered under his breath.

You chuckled as you gestured towards the older man. “That’s Ben, one of the customers I cater to. Enjoys coming here after dark. Says it helps him to think straight.”

“You see, I wanted to open a place where everyone could feel welcome,” you continued. “Even if it’s just the outsiders.”

“Hey, I heard that!” Ben called out again, though not once taking his eyes off the tiny print of the paper.

You smirked at his response. “Some people are night owls. So why not have a space for them too?”

Leon cocked his head to the side, staring at you contemplatively for a moment before replying, “That’s really nice of you.”

You looked away, unsure of how to respond. From the beginning, you had always accepted your role willingly, never giving it a second thought, so praise always came as a surprise.

“Mmm, why don’t you go make yourself at home, and I’ll be right with you?” you finally decided as an answer. 

Evasive, but polite—perfect for such a situation.

He did as you asked, heading over to the counter seat, and seeing you work your magic on his drink. It seemed like he had taken a note out of Claire’s book, inviting a little more spontaneity this time into his order. He wanted something warm yet cool, but not too sweet.

“It’s not too much of a hassle, is it?” he wondered out loud anxiously.

You huffed out a small laugh, saying, “It’s fine, relax.” 

As you served up the concoction before him, his gaze trailed across the amber swirls of the liquid, glinting under the pendant lights. They came to rest on the conical-shaped egg white foam you had whipped up on top.

“Gee, I feel like a kid in a candy shop,” he muttered. Taking a whiff of the mixture and upon finding it agreeable to his senses, he imbibed the rest of it.

“How do you—” he paused to recollect his thoughts before continuing, “How do you make such amazing drinks?” 

Twirling the glass in his hand, he examined it, seemingly trying to figure out its ingredients. “It’s almost as if you read my mind.”

“I just listen to what people need,” you mentioned nonchalantly, playing down the compliment. Jerking your thumb towards the glass, you added, “I call it Midsummer’s Nightcap, by the way.”

“I’ll definitely remember that.” 

He handed you the glass and you immediately followed up with a “Can I get you anything else?” It had been ingrained in you from day one to do so.

His face scrunched up slightly as he furrowed his brows. “I don’t know, hmm…”

“Something simpler?” you offered. “A glass of water?”

At this, he flashed a toothy grin. “There you go again. Reading minds.”

You scoffed good-humoredly, shaking your head as you poured him water over crushed ice with a slice of grapefruit and lime at the end. “So how’s your first week at work been?”

An involuntary groan rumbled from his chest, though he tried to suppress it.

“Not great?” you asked sympathetically.

“No, it’s good,” he began, “it’s more than I could’ve asked for, but…”

You held back, giving him the time and space to process his emotions. He fiddled nervously with the glass, pressing his fingers into it and leaving temporary imprints on the condensation.

“I don’t wanna fuck things up, you know?” he sighed. “I did well at the academy, but this feels like a totally different ball game.”

“It’s overwhelming, isn’t it?” you observed.

“Yeah,” he agreed, throwing his hands in the air. “I left everything behind for this job. My family, my hometown, my friends, my—” 

All of a sudden, he stopped in his tracks abruptly, as though something had clicked and he instantly regretted what he had just said. “I’m sorry for dumping this all on you…”

“Hey, it’s okay.” You reached over, holding his hand gently as you gave it a little squeeze. His pupils widened and his breath hitched at your touch, but similar to the previous time, he did not pull away.

“You’re afraid of failing,” you murmured, already busying yourself with cooking up another beverage to soothe his nerves. “Maybe you’ve never failed before, and it scares you.”

He remained silent, watching you from across the counter with a grim expression on his face.

It was only after you offered him the warm, steaming cup that he spoke, “You ever get that feeling where you’ve waited for this moment your entire life, and when it comes to it, you’re paralyzed?”

A rueful smile crept onto your lips. “When I set up this shop, yeah.”

Your answer stunned him initially before he started laughing, and you joined in.

When he finally managed to catch his breath, he probed further, “And how has it been for you?”

“It has its ups and downs, but you’ll survive.”

Your eyes met his. “Leon, it’s okay to fail.”

He averted his gaze in embarrassment. “That’s not what she—my girl—uh, my ex would’ve said.”

“Sometimes, people say things because they’re hurt,” you sighed. “I guess she didn’t want to lose you?”

Shaking his head, he rubbed his face wearily as he exhaled a deep breath. “Yeah, she didn’t want me to move so far away.”

Then, he found the courage to look you in the eye again. “I thought she’d be the one. I… I’m an idiot,” he surmised self-deprecatingly.

“You felt deeply for her,” you pointed out. “It doesn’t make it any less real just because it didn’t go the way you expected.”

While he mulled it over, you motioned to his forgotten drink and he obliged, knocking it back as if it were a liquor shot. “Time,” you proffered. ”Everything takes time.”

His jaw slackened as he took a moment to savor the warmth and taste, but once that passed, he had yet another curveball to throw at you. “What if I’m not cut out for this job?”

“If it comes to that, you could either keep going until you are, or find a new path,” you countered, placing your hands on your hips. “Don’t limit yourself.”

“Anyway, I have a hunch you’ll do just fine,” you reassured him. “If you don't believe me, then ask your supervisor.”

“Wait, you know Lieutenant Branagh?”

You did not respond to his question, instead sneaking in a wink and a smile as you removed the cup and saucer from his table. That appeared to distract him as he dropped the subject and latched on to a new one. 

“My grandma used to make this for me,” he said, indicating at the cup you were holding. “She had a name for it. Dreamsleep… I think?”

“Are you trying to tell me that I remind you of her?” you teased as you placed the items in the sink with the other dirty dishes.

“God, oh no, I’m sorry!” he coughed out, his face contorting into an expression of shock and horror upon realizing what he had implied. “That’s not what I meant!”

“I’m joking, Leon,” you giggled as he rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh of relief.

But when he took a peek at his watch, he pushed himself away from the counter. “I must’ve lost track of the time, um, I should get going.”

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he glanced bashfully in your direction. “Thank you… for tonight.”

You waved it off. “Don’t mention it.”

However, when you opened your mouth to speak again, he shushed you with his finger and a fiery look of determination in his eyes. “And no, this time I’m paying.”

Dividers by @cafekitsune

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[heretodestroyou]

heart-shaped sunglasses.

pairing(s); matthew lillard!william afton x reader

fandom; five nights at freddy’s [movie]

w/c; 592

trigger/content warnings; slightly unholy thoughts from william about you in your uniform, fem!reader, (reader wears lipstick, has boobs, is called 'girl' by william and has medium-length hair), heavy lana del rey influences (diet mountain dew), mentioned that reader smokes cigarettes, age gap (william is late 40s, reader is mid 20s), no explicit romance but it's heavily implied there's mutual pining, written from william's pov, reader knows his real name, not proof-read, NO use of y/n, lmk if i missed anything.

stella speaks! at this point someone reblogs/tags me in a shitpost about this man, i add tags while my brain is inconsolably horny, and then all of a sudden i'm writing a new draft. and yes, ik lana wasn't really a thing in 1990s, but for now let's pretend he's still a silver fox in the 2020s.

tags; @truecobblepot bc ofc🫶🏽🫶🏽

inspired by this post and the shenanigans that ensued.

“I just wanted to know how much I appreciate you staying late these past couple weeks.”

William’s voice is smooth, he’s demeanor calm, the slight tilt of his head and the casual clasp of his hands in front of him giving no hint to the turmoil in his brain.

You’re his employee. His best employee, no less. He can’t afford to lose you, to drive you away. So he’ll make sure you’re not looking him in the eye when his roam your body.

The words that come from your mouth are sincere. He knows this. He doesn’t much care in this moment however. That red vest is pulled across your breasts, and the top button of your shirt is undone, your tie looser now that the building is empty.

It’s his fault, how tight your uniform is on you. He has your size on file, but he always orders a size down, just for him. He doesn’t pay mind to the way teenage pizza boys and older brothers here with siblings watch you, because he knows he’s miles better than they are.

His eyes linger in the plastic heart-shaped sunglasses hanging from your collar, and he nods towards them. “And those? I do hope you haven’t been wearing those all day.”

It’s a gentle correction. No matter how much William favors you, he still must keep his image up. You shake your head. “No, I just got them out of my locker when I closed up with Robyn.”

“Where did you get them?” He asks, leaning forward. The movement is subtle, but he knows you catch it.

“It was a gag gift from some party,” you answer, taking them off your vest and sliding them on. William's breath barely catches in his throat. The frames are the same shade as the blood red lipstick you love wearing.

It’s your signature. It’s how he knows you’ve been in the break room, paper coffee and water cups stamped with your lips in the trash, lipstick printed cigarette buts in the back alleyway that he’s convinced himself are prettier than anyone else’s.

William's brain is rapid firing all kinds of signals, ranging from you're nearly 20 years younger than him, to why have I never felt this was about my ex-wife?

Everything about you seems to catered to William's preferences. You hold eye contact with him and customers, you're great with kids (including his!), and you actually appreciate the care he takes of his animatronics.

He chuckles as you look around his dim office with your heart-shaped sunglasses. "Well, now, look at you. Never was there ever a girl so pretty." You giggle, tugging on a strand of hair and sliding them up into your hair. "That's so sweet, Mr. Afton!" William chuckles. You're picture perfect and William is damn well aware that he's no good for you. "Please, call me William. It's only fitting that we remain on first name basis...as of your promotion to assistant manager."

Your eyes widen, and you let out a little gasp. "Do you really mean that, Mr. Af-- William?"

God, the way your lips form his name is intoxicating. He nods, his demeanor wavering slightly as you beam at him, thanking him.

It’s a power move, he knows. A selfish one, no less. But he can’t risk losing the one competent employee. And besides, the assistant manager’s uniform is closer to his, the pale purple shirt and darker tie, black slacks and black shoes (of your choosing, of course).

And who is he to deny himself that view?

[thefusioncelestial]

Mix 7: A Father's Gift

Mr. Jacobs was proud of his son. He was everything he wanted, if only his son, Derek would realize this.

But with the gift he was about to obtain, perhaps he would realize this.

Mr. Jacobs heard about a mysterious shop that was able to fix certain issues; of the bodily kind. Before he knew it, he was standing before its doors.

He scanned the surroundings before going in. It was wet and lightly raining, two tall walls of red brick, a reminder of the post WW2 era, flanking the doors on both sides. The door was wooden with no sign of paint or finish on them, and there was no sign save a strange symbol etched at the top of the door. Small enough to miss if you didn't notice. He couldn't make out the of the building, it seemed to never settle on a shape, style, or material. Mr. Jacobs soon put that out of his mind and walked through the door.

The room inside was darkly lit, but it had grayish carpet, dark green wall paper, and two Japanese style doors in the back. In front of them was a receptionist area that blocked access to them.

There was a man sitting behind it looking at him. His hair was concealed by a white turban, but his facial hair; medium sized eye brows & a carefully shaped mustache, revealed that his hair was jack black. He had striking green eyes. He was wearing a black shirt that had a galactic print on them. He could swear that he could see the stars twinkle & the galaxy itself slowly turn.

"Hello sir, I take you are here to take on a new look? You can be anything, or are you looking to heal some hurts that modern medicine has failed to heal so far," the receptionist asked in an confident tone.

"Not for me, but my son," Mr. Jacobs replied.

"How does this work? What do you charge?"

"What I charge depends on the reasons for the change, typically for men like you looking to change their sons, often for vanity reasons, I do not come cheap. I can't tell you how many "wimps" I changed into world class athletes," the receptionist replied.

He continued: "As for how, you go through the door to my left, pick the traits you want, and then get back to me & I'll handle the rest. Now give me your right palm, Mr. Jacobs." He came out of the receptionist desk & brought two chairs for both to sit.

He sat & so did the father.

He stretched out his hand.

As if instantly, Mr. Jacobs did as he was asked.

"How did you know my family name," he pondered.

"Oh forgive me, my name is Corsair, as for how, I would not make it as far as I did in my line of work if I didn't know who may prospective customers are," Corsair retorted.

Must be because my information is available online due to social media he thought.

Corsair had Mr. Jacobs's hand grasped in an embrace of both of his hands. He then moved his forehead to touch this embrace and closed his eyes. His secret revealed, he could read minds!

He saw the real reason for the visit. He did in-fact come to help his son. It was not to make him a star or make him more palpable to the marriage market or for some desire to use him for social gain. His son had confidence issues.

He dug deeper. Ah, there he is:

I see, from their conversations, the son feels mixed matched. He worked on himself hard both academically & physically and achieved a great result. One more year at university, and quite the healthy body with the aesthetics to show it. But he hates his face. Nothing he has done has ever worked. He considering plastic surgery. Mr. Jacobs supports his son, but wants a more natural way than the scalpel. My way is...magical if not natural. He just needs a little bump to bring out his features.

Corsair moved his head back up to face Mr. Jacobs & unclasped his hands and rest his on his lap.

"He doesn't need much. One measure. $1000," he said in a deadpan manner.

"Deal," Mr. Jacobs said quickly.

Corsair smiled, "Through this door."

He handed Mr. Jacobs a cup.

"Pick one to fill in that cup. The turn knob & valve is located under the giant cylinders. Keep walking forwards after you are done,' he said.

"Just like that," Mr. Jacobs replied.

"Just like that," Corsair replied with a big smile.

He opened the receptionist area to let Mr. Jacobs in, and he went through the door. It closed behind him.

The area was pitch black, but soon a green light, no a series of green lights sprang up. They were next to each other with some distance, but orderly. They were lined up on both sides of the room, forming a hallway.

He walked up to the first pair. They were giant green clear glass canisters. There was a glowing green liquid inside and to his shock; unconscious men with their eyes closed floating inside of them.

They seemed to be sleeping. They had a calm expression about them. Each canister had a distinct person in each. No matter the size, face, ect, they were all good looking & fit. It was a hallway of models.

Pick me. No me. No over here!

The men inside were mentally communicating with Mr. Jacobs.

"Wait you can speak without moving your mouths? Wait, are you being held against your will," he asked out loud.

In unison: NO!

Do not worry for us, for a part of us gets to live on in others. We get to live through others in more lives than what has been recorded in history. Choose.

Telepathy he realized. Fine, he would choose.

"I don't need much, I just want my son to be more confident himself. Realize his potential," Mr. Jacobs said loudly.

Far off in the back a canister glowed very brightly while the others dimmed.

After 10 minutes he approached the canister. For some reason he put his hand on it, and then a flash of the memories of the person on the canister flooded him.

A young soldier, living life. He was always positive no matter the situation. On track to a long distinguished career. About to go home. And then a large explosion occurred. A terrorist attack, killed his most of his platoon, and he layed on the ground suffering about to meet his maker.

Corsair appeared. He healed the soldier's body, but the soul was too detached to keep him going.

He was given an offer:" work through him to help others in need of help. You would live on by merging yourself with others to change their life trajectory in positive ways. You would still be considered dead to the public."

The solider, named Caleb agreed without hesitation, not caring for the life in the canister.

On the bright side, the canister men were given a new purpose & would join their new mental powers thanks to the green liquid that also anchored their souls to their bodies & gave them eternal youth. They created a gesalt mind palace where they could get to know of each other & live new lives in their perfect worlds.

Mr. Jacobs chose him. After he wiped a tear from his eyes, he looked down and found a water jug like hatch, the kind you find in barrel shaped drink dispensers, and pressed the release valve down. Green liquid filled the cup & he was done.

"Thank you for your service," said Mr. Jacobs. He bowed.

The serene body cocked a smile.

Mr. Jacobs wanted to take him home, but he knew he would die outside that canister and promptly left. He kept walking forward, not backwards as instructed, and came across a door.

He walked through it. He came out to the same receptionist area he used to come in. He turned and saw it was the first door he used to get into the hall way of perfect, to him, men.

Space time shenanigans.

He walked past the receptionist desk, turned towards Corsair.

"I take it you will keep the secret," he wondered.

"If this works, my life is yours," the father replied.

"The money has already been deducted, hand me the cup. The final step is near," Corsair said & then took the cup from the father.

He could not see what he was doing, but he heard shaking & swirling noises. They stopped. He pulled out a bag & In the bag was a green pill.

Corsair handed Mr. Jacobs the bag.

"Have him swallow it over night, right before he goes to bed," he said.

"Thank you so much, how do you take payment," Mr. Jacobs pondered.

"Payment is automatically deducted as I said before," Corsair replied.

They both wished them a great day & Mr. Jacobs went home.

His son was home the weekend before spring break, determined to do nothing. Maybe some extra studying.

His father gave him a bag with a green pill in it. Told him to take it before bed. Maybe an anti-anxiety pill? Some supplements?

He pondered. His dad has never given him anything bad. He did as he was told. He went to sleep.

His body began to float. He wanted to wake up and see what was going on, but he couldn't open his eyes, move his limbs, or get out of his dream. Did the pill he took induce sleep paralysis?

He had a mouth, but he could not scream.

He was floating about 3 feet above the bed, and then the bed sheets slid off, exposing him to the air from all sides.

Above him was a specter or ghost. It was Caleb. He was floating even higher than Derek was. Situated above Derek in the same resting position, he started to descend. Derek didn't move, couldn't move. Soon Caleb was occupying the same space as Derek.

Swoosh. A burst of wind flowed out from Derek's body.

Caleb faded away into Derek, and Derek soon glowed green.

In Derek's dream space, he met Caleb. Derek was scared at first, but he was able to be calmed down. He explained the situation. Derek was mad at his dad at first, but understood his good intentions.

"How much of me will change," Derek asked.

"I don't know, but you will still be driving the wheel of whatever it is we turn into," Caleb said.

Derek let out a sigh. It was probably too late to go back. He swallowed the pill after all.

"You will ride passenger seat no matter what," Derek said in confidence. Some of Caleb's mental aspects where seeping in.

Caleb smiled. Both of the men turned into tornadoes that then merged into one twister. It settled into a new person.

The green glow went away.

For Caleb's physical body, it began to change. During the mind meld, Caleb's DNA transfused into every part of Derek's body.

He grew more hair, eyebrows got thinner, his lips a more flush with blood getting pinker. His eyes reshaped themselves, while his ears changed angle a little to move towards the skull.

His chin and cheek bones thickening gave him a much stronger jawline. His skeletal changes generated new sensations, like the feeling of pops and pressures. From this moment forward, Caleb grunted. Not in defiance, but in acceptance of the new changes. You could hear "mmm" come from him.

With a suddenness & popping sound, his neck, shoulder, chest, arms, & legs exploded with new muscle at the same time as if he was hulking out. His fingers changing to meet the new proportions. His legs lengthened.

He let out an sharp "ahh" at the sudden changes. His body from his waist jerking up to make a weak triangle before settling flat.

His abs changed as well. He began to groan. He had a cross between his own and Caleb's. He could feel his abdominal muscles merge into one. The skin then constricted and reshaped them, giving form to each of his stones.

His nether regions were a 1 to 1 copy of Caleb's. Bigger & longer. Harrier too. As the changes came in, he could be heard breathing hard through his nose.

The changes were done. His transformation complete. He slept the rest of the night.

He got up before his father & went to the local gym: he needed space & a different environment from his father's home. No one saw him as a different person to his shock. He went to the locker room to get a full look of his changes:

He was bewildered. He was like a new man. Did he have to change this much? He loved the muscles, the power,....the confidence? He remember that Caleb was inside him now. Caleb was a soldier. A flood of memories hit Derek. Caleb's training & missions as a soldier, his buddies in the air force.

He returned home. His father was also shocked by his son's changes. They talked and found a happy medium. He wanted to know where this clinic was located, but his father forgot. No third chances.

He decided to go travel for this spring break. A visit to Caleb's platoon. The one who survived. To the graves of the ones who didn't. They all deserved respect.

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[cyborg-franky]

Just a little something for my boy's birthday as this year I have been too busy to do much of anything. I normally bake ugly cakes for him and Ace haha but this year I am just, the living dead. Excuse errors, my laptop and checker are at odds with one another atm.

Modern AU SFW Marco x GN Reader

You sat in the small coffee shop, enjoying the ambiance. It was quiet, a little off the beaten path, down one of the narrow side streets. If you knew where to look it was a perfect hidden gem. You and Marco loved this place. You had your first date here all those years ago. 

Looking around you took in everything, the stylish decor and the rows upon rows of books that customers could read. A few people were on laptops or sitting with coffee and were deeply involved with a book. The sounds were pleasing, the clinks and claks of cups and sauces. The music that played over the sounds of the coffee machines was enjoyable.

You took a breath, the smells were delicious. You loved a fresh pastry in the morning. You were so distracted by your people-watching that you didn’t notice Marco approach the table. You jumped, startled when he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“Miles away, little bird?” he said with a lop-sided grin, his tired eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You didn’t have to sneak up on me,” you huffed but melted into the arms that wrapped around you. “Want your regular?” he asked and you nodded before tugging his shirt sleeve. “Excuse me but I’m paying. It’s your birthday after all!”

“What? And deprive me the joy of treating my pretty bird?” Marco replied with a smooth timber to his voice as his sly smirk grew, enjoying how you flustered before standing. “Just sit down,” you rolled your eyes, cheeks flushed. 

You weren’t mad, far from it. You liked his energy and laid-back attitude, even if it was tinged with a little cockyness. You adored it.

You returned with a tray, setting it down as he helped unload the two drinks and the slices of cake. “Here,” you set his piece of cake down. “Perfect, thank you!”

He smiled brightly and you could feel yourself falling in love all over again. You sat back down and felt his hand on your knee, a comforting feeling. He felt safe, he felt like home. 

The two of you chatted, catching up on the busy week you’d both just had. A few drinks later you pulled out a box. It was neatly wrapped in pineapple print paper and a big blue bow. You handed it to him and he seemed confused. “You didn’t have to get me anything…”

“You say that every year and I ignore it. Now open it!” You said with a grin and leaned forward on the table, knowing he would love it. 

Marco chuckled and started to rip open the paper, he wasn’t as neat and tidy as most people assumed. You picked up the scattered paper, watching him pull the lid off the box. You watched his expression as he lifted the beautiful sweater. It was blue and teal, warm and cozy. He rolled the fabric between his fingers with a content sigh. “So soft,” he hummed and held to his chest, showing it off.

“You complained that your comfort sweater is getting old, so I thought this was your style and would keep you warm,” you explained as he folded it back. “I love it. Thank you so much.” He shuffled closer and pulled you against him, kissing the side of your head as he wrapped an arm around you.

“Happy birthday, Marco, I love you,” 

“I love you too baby bird,”