#also i made the grocery bag too heavy and i had to change it shoulders every 2 meters

[newtness532]

i went to the supermarket and i feel like ive done a 3-hour-long full body workout

[lord-leclerc]

fate or destiny? (charles leclerc)

pairing: charles leclerc x fem! reader

summary: inspired by ceilings by Lizzy McAlpine. I did change a few concepts though.(i didn't include the last part of the song because im going through writer's block and couldn't find a way to join those two plots.)

warnings: fluff, nsfw, mentions of nudity, mentions of sex, angst if you squint.

a/n: first time writing for a real person, please bear with me. also lemme know if you want a part two(please say yes coz it will either be insta au or dad!charles ;))

sighing at the ceiling for the hundredth time in the past thirty minutes, you felt bored out of your mind. Looking around the room, you noticed the little things that you never had before-the plaster on the wall beside the door was worn off, your bedside table had a little dent on the corner, the curtain had a coffee stain from a time you couldn't remember. Time felt like it was moving in slow motion, every waking second a seemingly excruciating long moment. You felt numb. No coherent thoughts running through your mind, you stood up. These vacations, although peaceful, were ruining your peace, your existence being a whirlwind of boredom. Walking around the room, you stopped at the window overlooking the city. You looked out the window and saw you car in the driveway and shrugged-might as well go get groceries.

-

"Its alright", said the man with a thick accent, picking up your fallen bag.

You only shifted to Monaco last summer and communicating with people with your broken french was hard, yet you still managed to get your work done somehow.

stepping out of the store with hands full of bags, you bumped into a hard chest, apologies spewing out of your mouth like water out of a faucet. "I am so sorry!", you said.

"Want me to help you carry these?", the green eyed boy asked, noticing the amount of bags you had in your hands.

Not wanting to cause anymore troubles for him, you politely denied.

"But you already have so much in your hands, it's alright, just tell me where your car is."

Realising he wouldn't budge, you lead the way to your car and he helped you put all your bags in your car.

"Thank you so much.", you said with a smile.

"you're welcome, ?", he said in a suggesting tone, wanting to catch your name.

"Oh right! I am Y/N.", you extended your hand.

"Its nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Charles.", he shook your hand, trying not to hold it for too long because of how soft your skin was.

As mesmerised as him, you blurted out your next words without any second thoughts.

"Hey, how about I get you a coffee? both as a thank you drink and an apology?"

One look at his dimpled smile and you knew, you knew you were doomed.

that one coffee date turned into two, then three and now four. Sitting on one of the benches in the local garden, you both enjoyed the slightly gloomy yet happy weather. The cool wind brushed against your skins, making you shiver which in turn made Charles tuck you under his arm, your head on his shoulder. You sat there in a comfortable silence, feeling like having known each other for an eternity even though it had only been a few weeks. You both embraced the warmth radiating from one another's body, that is, until you felt the cool touch of the water droplets against your warm flesh. You both sat there, not caring about the rain, just melting in each other's company until the rain became too heavy.

Your giggles echoed through the now empty garden as you ran, hand in hand with Charles, towards the gazebo in the center of the place. You were both dripping with water from head to toe by the time you reached the gazebo, but the rain was so heavy that water still found its way to you from the little spaces in between the grills of the roof and the pillars. Deciding you won't be able to do anything about it now, you just shook your heads and chuckled. Still hand in hand, Charles pulled you to him, trailing his other hand down your arm and interlacing his fingers with your own, he leaned down to rest his forehead on yours. Both of you were breathing heavily. Maybe it was because you ran here or maybe it was because of the sudden drop in the temperature. Or, maybe, it was due to your sheer closeness. Charles trailed his hand back up your arm, up your neck and finally buried his fingers in your hair , making you inhale sharply. Your eyes fluttered close as he leaned your head back to take a better look at your face. To him, you looked ethereal. Cheeks a rosy shade from the cold, hair all wet and in all places, eyes closed with little puffs of air leaving your lips, oh those lips. How badly he wanted to taste them, to feel those lips against his own and swallow every next breath that leaves them. He leaned in ever more, to the point where you could feel your breath mingling with his, making your insides feel all tingly. As he brushed his lips against yours, she gasped, bringing your hands up to his sides and fisting his hoodie in them with your eyes still closed.

"Can I kiss you?", he asked in a whisper, making you open your eyes instantly.

Staring into his green hues, you nodded. He looked down at your mouth again, which flooded your stomach with butterflies and anticipation as you watched him.

"Words, Y/N. I need words."

You sucked a deep breath in and nodded again, "yes."

"Yes, what?", his lips brushed against yours with every word that came out of his mouth.

"Yes, you may kiss me, Charles."

He didn't need to be asked twice. Like a starving man, he connected his mouth with yours, swallowing your gasp. He kissed you with his entire being and you returned the kiss with the same burning passion. You kissed under the rain for what felt like forever before finally breaking apart for some air, making him chase your lips again before shaking his head and chuckling, resting his head on yours again. He just couldn't get enough of you.

As for you? You knew he was a Formula 1 driver, you knew he wouldn't be able to give you as much time and you knew all the things that came along with being the girlfriend of a celebrity and a sportsperson, but that didn't stop you. You were willing to give this a chance, to give him a chance because you couldn't get enough of him either.

-

The room was a mess of muffled gasps and moans and tangled bodies and ripped clothes.

"Charles", you gasped, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he mouth trailed kisses down your body. Your hands in his hair while his were on your hips, to keep you stable. He made his way up your body again and whispered, "oui, mon ange?", kissing the spot just behind your ear.

As he hovered over you, you looked into his eyes and wrapped your arms around his neck before placing your lips against his.

"Please.", you said and again, he didn't need to be asked twice.

Breathing heavily, he collapsed on you. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed his forehead before turning the both of you over so you were now laying on top of him and traced circles on his chest while placing small kisses against his neck.

"Are you okay, ma belle?", he whispered before placing a kiss on your head. You just hummed in response, too tired to even say something in response. Charles lazily rubbed his hand up and down your back while gently placing his lips against the skin of your shoulder, lulling you to sleep. As you laid there in his arms, he was the only one you could feel, the only one you could think about, the only one you could hear. He had enveloped you completely- body, mind, heart and soul. When he was with you, nothing else mattered-heck, you didn't want anything else to matter. It was him and only him and you would do anything to keep it that way.

Your mouth itched to say all this to him, to say those three words and you would've, but you didn't wanna ruin the moment by saying something he might not feel. Perhaps it was too early, since it had only been one and a half month but loving is something you can't control. You don't see the time or place, it just happens. You laid there, tangled with him, your body and heart at peace but your mind was full of chaos, full of all the words you ached to say to him, but perhaps words wouldn't be enough, so you did one thing which you hoped would convey everything you were feeling to him- you kissed him and he returned it with the same passion.

Both you and Charles were very happy that you both went to get groceries that day. Call it fate or destiny, you wouldn't be here if you hadn't been bored out of your damn mind that day. As horrific as it had been, you were thankful you bumped into the green eyed stranger and dropped your bags that day. Because now you don't know how to live without said stranger and couldn't imagine a life without him.

"I'll miss you, mon ange.", he said while pulling up to your apartment.

You rolled your eyes at his dramatic self.

"You'll see me tomorrow, Charles."

"Yeah, but tomorrow is so far. Comment vais-je vivre sans toi jusque-là?, he sighed. how will i live without you till then.

"I don't think you remember but I don't understand french to that extent so I would really like if you translate it for me."

"Nothing, belle.", he smiled before taking your hand and kissing your knuckles one by one.

You tried to pout but failed miserably. All you were capable of doing around this man was smile.

As the car came to a stop, your mind fumbled with the various possibilities of what would happen if you say those three words. Would he say it back? Would he get upset? What if he doesn't say anything? Fuck it-what will happen, will happen. He is going for 2 weeks straight this time and you'll loose your mind keeping it to yourself till then.

"Charles?"

"Oui? Is everything okay?", he asked, picking up the nervousness in your voice.

"No, Charles. Everything is not okay! How could it be when you're by my side? You make me so nervous, yet so happy. You're the only one I think about all day, the only one I can feel, I can hear. You make me a better version of myself and- and I feel like spending every waking moment of my day with you! I've never felt this strongly for anyone before and it scares me but I'll loose my damn mind if I don't get this out of my system today but I-", you paused your frustrated rant and took a deep breath before averting your gaze from the window behind his head to his green orbs.

"Je t'aime, Charles.", your voice barely a whisper.

He just looked at you. And for a moment, you were afraid. Afraid that maybe he'll just smile and say nothing, or maybe he will just tell you to go or maybe he will say that things are moving too fast or-

Out of all the things you expected, him grabbing your neck and yanking you forward was definitely not it. You gasped as he connected his lips with yours in a hungry kiss. He was rough, wanting to swallow all of you. Tongues wrestling and teeth clashing, he kissed you like he never had before and you struggled to keep up with him.

"Je t'aime tellement, mon amour. You have no idea how much. I've been itching to say these words to you but I didn't want to scare you off.", he whispered against your lips.

Slowly, you opened your eyes to find him already looking at you. You chuckled at the irony. How you were afraid to tell him only to find out he was just as scared.

"What?", he smiled.

You just shook you head and placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"Come to the race with me?", he asked. "After this, I don't think I'll survive two weeks without you."

You happily nodded your head, "Thought you'd never ask.". He just chuckled and kissed you once again.

"You were wrong, by the way.", he said making you furrow your brows in confusion.

"You do know how to speak french and it sounds even more beautiful coming out of that pretty mouth of yours.", he winked while staring at your lips.

You slapped his chest, "Flirt." He grabbed your hand and held it against his chest.

"But I'm your flirt", he wiggled his eyebrows making you blush.

"I wanna fuck you so bad.", he said against your neck.

"Alors qu'attendez-vous?", you decided to put your french lessons to some use. then what are you waiting for?

He bit your neck and cursed under his breath. Suddenly, he got out of the car and moved around it to open your door. He helped you out of it and grabbed your hand before hurriedly making his way towards the elevator of your apartment. As soon as the elevator reached your floor, he was dragging you out of it and towards your door, demanding for you to open it. The moment you closed the door behind you, you were pinned to the wall beside the door and it was on. It would be a long night.

[haikyuuhoo]

Writing this simply because today is my birthday and I wanted to be selfish. Also it’s unedited bc I just got home and now I’m gonna go eat dinner <3

You let out a heavy breath as you step over the threshold into your apartment, your shoulders already aching from the weight of carrying around your backpack full of books all day. You drop your keys on the table by your front door and start to remove your bag.

It’s only Monday and you already feel exhausted just from the anticipation of the upcoming week. That, and the fact that the night before you’d gone out to dinner with a group of your friends to celebrate your birthday. Technically your birthday was today, but you were all so busy during the week that it was a hassle to be able to get everyone together at once. Plus, you never really cared all that much about celebrating your birthday, so you didn’t mind the fact that your only plans for tonight were to curl up on your couch with the book you’ve been reading. Really, it sounded like the perfect night in.

You start to head to your bedroom, ready to change into some more comfortable clothes, but movement in your kitchen catches your eye. Your heart nearly stops beating before you register the shock of white hair disappearing behind your pantry door. “Satoru?” you breathe, taking a step in the opposite direction you’d just been intending to go.

Your boyfriend peeks his head back out, and you catch the glint of his eyes over his sunglasses as he smiles at you. “Oh, you’re home already, traffic must’ve been light today!”

Your backpack falls to the floor with a thud as you rush over to him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. The little “oof” that Satoru lets out makes your heart flutter—the subconscious dropping of his infinity around you is never subconscious to you. “What are you doing here?” The words are muffled against his shoulder, and you feel yourself melt as he raises a hand to cradle the back of your head and pull you impossibly closer to him.

Gojo had been away for the past two weeks on missions and business, and wasn’t due to come back for another six days. It had momentarily saddened you that he wasn’t able to join you and your friends for dinner the night before, especially with how busy the two of you had been between him always away on missions and you always busy with grad school, but once you were there and enjoying the night it was out of your mind—plus, the money he’d Venmoed you to cover your bill more than made up for it.

“It’s your birthday, did you really think I was gonna miss it?”

You tilt your head back to look up at him, bringing your hands up to cup his cheeks. “But you’re supposed to be working,” you scold. “You know I don’t care when we celebrate.”

“And you know that I do.” He grins down at you. In the three years you had been dating, Satoru hadn’t let your birthday go by without doing something the day of, even if the proper celebration was moved to a more convenient time. “Now go get changed. I was trying to find something to make you dinner, but it looks like you haven’t gotten groceries in weeks.”

You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you pull back slightly. “I know, I’ve just been—“

“—busy,” he hums and leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I know. I’ll just order something from that place you like and we can watch a movie or something. That sound okay?”

Your shoulders drop, some of the tension from the day fading away. “That sounds perfect,” you whisper, and you close the distance between you two to kiss him again.

Gojo’s hands drop to your waist, pulling you flush against him as your hands slip up into his hair.

“I’ve missed you,” you murmur.

Gojo leans his forehead against yours. “I’ve missed you too. ‘S why I couldn’t miss this.”

You smile, pressing one more quick kiss to his lips before pulling away to go change.

Gojo quickly places a delivery order for dinner before he waltzes over to your bedroom—it doesn’t even take him ten steps to cross the distance of your one-bedroom apartment—and leans against the doorframe.

“Admiring the view?” you tease as you pull a t-shirt over your head, your favorite pair of sweats already on as you turn to face him.

“Mmm, I was beginning to forget what it looked like,” he drawls.

You scoff and grab his hand, pulling him with you toward the couch. “Those pictures I sent you yesterday say otherwise.”

The grin that spreads over Gojo’s face is nearly blinding. “And I should’ve asked for more of them.” He stops walking, tugging you back against him and burying his face in the crook of your neck. “You looked so good, baby.” He presses kisses down your shoulder, and you can nearly feel him frown against you as he notices the tension there.

“I’m fine,” you insist before he can say anything, and you move away to go sit on the couch.

“Can’t believe they make you have so many books,” he huffs as he picks up your backpack from where you’d let it fall, instead setting it on the chair at the table where you normally do your homework.

You shrug, grabbing the remote and beginning to look for a movie for you two to watch. “How are those big textbook companies ever gonna make any money if they don’t make a new edition each year and force you to buy it instead of allowing you to get it cheaper from someone who took that class last year?” you quip, making Gojo snort as he sits next to you.

He wraps an arm around your shoulders, not even paying attention to the options on the screen as he lets his gaze settle on your face.

“You should let me give you a massage,” he says after a few minutes of silent scrolling, and you raise your eyebrows.

“Dinner and a massage? Gojo Satoru, you might just be giving me the best birthday yet,” you tease with a smile.

And he grins in return. “And I’m not done yet. Plus, who’s to say there’s nothing in it for me? I can’t very well give you a massage with your shirt on can I?”

The laugh you let out makes Gojo’s heart soar, and he brushes his fingers against the bare skin of your bicep as he watches you.

“You leave for two weeks and revert back to a desperate horny teenager, huh?”

“Emphasis on the desperate,” he says as he lifts you up in a fluid motion, carrying you back to your bedroom as your laughter fills the apartment.

Later, when you’re sitting between Gojo’s legs and eating dinner while you watch the movie you both picked, you tilt your head back to look up at him. “Thank you for coming home,” you whisper. It’s dark and you can’t see his eyes through his sunglasses, but you keep your gaze locked there anyway, feeling the way his eyes shift to look down at you.

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “No need to thank me. I’ll come home every year,” he promises, and you know by the way that he squeezes your hand that he means it.

[starryriize]

blankets and plushies | woonhak

— ✧ • ˳೫˚ part of my valentine event!

೫ pairing: bf!woonhak and gf!reader

೫ summary: you and woonhak spend valentine’s making a pillow fort and staying in to watch movies

೫ genre/word count: fluff! 788 words!

೫ author’s notes: ahhh this was too cute to write! i struggled with the ending 😭 but it turned out cuter than i expected ! happy end of my valentine event !! semi-proofread

4:30 pm -

“Woonie, what part of this looks like a fort to you?” A fit of laughter threatens to escape your mouth. The pillows were rapidly falling, making your end of the pillow fort look like a sad pile of blankets. Woonhak gave you a sheepish glance, hurriedly adjusting the pillows and placing books to hold up the pillows in place. He wanted you to enjoy your spot in the fort, and he wouldn’t have as much fun either if the pillows kept falling onto your head.

After some 30-odd minutes of watching and giggling as Woonhak fixed the fort, the precious pillow fort was finally done. Plopping onto the blankets, he turns to you asking, “What should we watch?” You pretend to think for a really long time, putting your fingers under your chin. Muttering softly, you name movies you always enjoyed as a child. "Well I always liked James Bond...or maybe Harry Potter...oh wait, how about Tangled? Nah, there's also Wall-E...oh but what about Pirates of the Caribbean?"

Woonhak laughs, staring at you with wide eyes as he listens intently to you ramble on about the various movies and genres you enjoy. Your quiet muttering would sound crazy to anyone else, but to Woonhak, it was incredibly calming. The way your voice sounded like a harmony that blessed his ears. He could listen to you for hours, days on end, and he'd never get bored.

"So...Wall-E?" He tilts his head toward you, breaking the silence after you've stopped muttering. The screen flicks, changing to show the preview of Wall-E. Smiling to yourself, you nod, adding, "We should definitely watch it." Woonhak giggles, re-enacting how Wall-E was when he met Eve.

"Eeeeve. Eeve? Eva." You burst out laughing at his robot impression, sounding more similar to a chipmunk than a bot. “Woonie, you sound like Alvin.” He rolls his eyes, playfully scoffing as he grabs the remote to click play.

“Hey- if I’m Alvin, who are the others?” He asks, whispering to you. Without even turning to him, you quickly shush him, telling him that this is a part he shouldn’t miss. It was the scene where Eve and Wall-E are running from the other robots, but the Captain knows that Eve has the last plant from Earth. You’d always loved Wall-E, telling your mom when you were little that robots had a better love story than most people.

You giggle at the screen, settling yourself into the fort, bringing a blanket over yourself. Next to you, Woonhak couldn’t focus on the screen, rather, he was staring at you. Sometimes you never failed to make him laugh and you were like a walking sunshine. He couldn’t believe that you were next to him and on Valentine’s Day too no less.

On the other hand, you were beginning to feel sleepy. Perhaps it was because most of your energy was spent laughing with Woonhak as you both made the fort, but either way, you were tired. Your eyelids felt increasingly heavy as you tried your best to focus on the movie.

You relented, giving in to your body wanting sleep. “Used up all your energy, huh?” He laughs quietly, sighing happily as your head falls onto his shoulder. For a few minutes, he watched the movie, making sure to not move so that you could sleep well. The movie was quietly playing in the background as he felt himself get tired with you.

Thirty minutes later, Jaehyun and Sungho came back from the store, grocery bags in hand. They set down the bags, chattering about how they could use help and how they’ll eat all the food if no one else came to help. But how were you both supposed to know? After all, you and Woonhak were asleep in the pillow fort; the movie now playing the credits.

“Hm? Is Woonhak in his room?” Sungho nods at Jaehyun’s question, as he takes out a bottle of chocolate milk. Jaehyun gives him a quick thank you, walking off to get his favorite maknae. As he approached the door, he heard the tell-tale sound of the Disney credits. Opening the door quietly, half-expecting to see you both choosing the next movie, but he wasn’t surprised when he saw you both asleep.

“Awwww.” He swooned, taking his phone out to take a picture, finding you both so cute. You were both snoring softly, the blanket covering the both of you. It was an adorable sight, and you’d wake up to see his hyungs in the fort with you, watching a movie. Some may say it’s annoying but in many ways, it was a perfect Valentine’s Day- spent with what you and Woonhak would call your second family.

[psychedelic-ink]

'𝒕𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒎𝒏 𝒔𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

genre: romance, holiday fic, mutual pining, neighbor au, fluff, smut

word count: 4.5k

summary: you've been crushing on your handsome neighbor for quite some time, but even if you've made your intentions clear, it doesn't seem to get through to him. However that all might change when his flight gets canceled and the two of you spend the holidays together.

warnings: idiots in love, oblivious!frankie dirty talk, messy oral (receiving), feral!frankie but also sweet!frankie best of both worlds, a dash of competency kink king of pussy eating frankie (tag courtesy of kay)

a/n: I was the pinch-hitter secret santa for the amazing @the-ginger-hedge-witch sorry that this ended up being a tinsy bit late but I hope you enjoy it all the same! I did have a blast writing your prompts and I hope I did it justice 💜💜 Merry Christmas, I hope you have a splendid year 🎅

thank you to @pedrostories who hosted the event, and special thanks to @pedrito-friskito who cheered me on while writing and edited it for me, ilysm ❤️❤️❤️ happy holidays! ♡♡♡

my prompt was; mutual pining, home for the holidays.

A week until Christmas, excitement buzzes within the city, laughter and cheer booming within the square a large Christmas tree stands. But unlike the rest, you don’t feel a particular sense of excitement. Snow starts to fall and you walk quickly as you thread through the crowd. You’ve gotten groceries and a couple of decorations that tickled your fancy. You weren’t excited, but you weren’t sad either; you just didn’t have any special plans, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t be having a good time eating and watching your favorite holiday movies. 

You struggle to push open the door to your apartment, your arms weighed down by the heavy shopping bags, and you can feel your balance start to falter. You take a step forward, but before you know it, you're stumbling, your feet slipping out from under you on the smooth marble floor.

But before you can even think to cry out, you feel a pair of strong arms catch you, steadying you on your feet. You turn to see Frankie, your neighbor and the object of your long-standing crush, standing there with a concerned look on his face.

“Careful there, neighbor,” he says, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. "Are you okay?"

You nod, trying to compose yourself as you stand there, leaning against him for support. Frankie has always been a good friend, always there to lend a helping hand or a shoulder to lean on. But despite your close friendship, your feelings aged like a fine wine. 

You've had a crush on Frankie for months now, and while you've always assumed that he's not interested in you in that way, you can't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, there's a chance for something more between you. However, your previous attempts in trying to ask him out ended with failure; he was either too preoccupied with something to notice that you were asking him out, or he just assumed you meant it as a kind gesture. 

You either sucked at it or Frankie is the most oblivious person you know. Honestly, you assume it’s a little bit of both. 

“Do you want me to help you out with those?” he asks, gently pushing you up so you can stand on your own. 

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you…” 

He dismisses your worries with a wave of his hand, your eyes linger on the small bullseye tattoo he has between his thumb and forefinger. Whenever you see it you get the urge to press it like a button. 

“As you can see I have perfectly functional, empty, hands—It’s no trouble whatsoever,” 

Frankie leans forward and ignoring your protests, takes all of the grocery bags from your arms. You feel the brush of his fingers across your knuckles.  He smells of pine and mint, and it takes you all of your self-control to not bury your nose into the crook of his neck. Your eyes momentarily flutter close when he pulls away, your heart swelling in your chest. He begins to make his way up the stairs and you promptly follow. 

“You’re too kind, thank you,” you say wanting to make pleasant conversation. “Do you have any upcoming plans for Christmas?” 

Are you fishing for information? Absolutely. You just can’t help it.

You notice the way his muscles go rigid, a nervous laugh follows and he continues his way up the steps, each one echoing. “My mom and dad begged me to come over so I guess that’s my plan— Which is fine…I just haven’t seen them in a while,” 

This piques your interest and you want to ask more but Frankie is quick to change the subject. 

“What about you?” 

“You’re kinda carrying my Christmas plans,” 

Finally reaching your floor, he stops and looks down. He deadpans for a moment, considering what to say, which you find adorable. You grin at the way he nervously chews on his bottom lip, his gaze lifting up to meet yours. 

“Why do you look so worried?” you grin. “I’m actually quite excited to relax and spend some quality time with myself.” 

Frankie’s eyes drop to your lips, he mimics your expression, his smile soft and endearing. He hands you your groceries and nods. 

“That’s good, I’ll be leaving on the 24th so if you need anything by then feel free to come and knock on my door.” 

“Thanks, neighbor,” you answer, watching him walk towards his own apartment door. “I’ll see you later then.” 

With a sigh of relief, you drop the bags to the floor as soon as you close the door. Your back is pressed against the solid wood of the door, and you slide down slightly, your legs feeling weak and shaky after your run-in with the ever-faithful Frankie. You hate the fact that deep down you were hoping that he would be staying here too. It’s a silly thing to want, but you thought that maybe if he was going to stay too, you could’ve finally made your intentions clear. 

You let out a sharp laugh, and look up to the ceiling. Frankie is just a helpful guy, a nice and kind neighbor, and that’s probably how he sees you as well. A person he can come to to borrow salt and olive oil from time to time. 

Not wanting to wallow in self-pity, you pick up your groceries and head for the kitchen. Maybe you will take him up on his offer and give him a visit. You could be out of sugar perhaps? A perfect excuse to knock on his door. 

But as you stand there, holding the bag of sugar in your hand with the intention of putting it in the cupboard, you realize that your plan has a major flaw. Frankie saw your heaping pile of groceries, and he knows that you have more than enough sugar to last you a month.

You groan; finding a decent enough excuse is going to be harder than you thought. 

Frankie sits on the couch, the rough fabric scraping against his skin as he sinks into the cushions. The living room is scarcely decorated, the walls bare, and the only adornment is a sad-looking tree in the corner. He groans as he checks his phone once more to make sure he’s not dreaming; he sees the notification that his flight has been canceled due to the weather. Outside, the snow is falling heavily, the flakes visible even in the fading light. Frankie is positive he could fly in this weather. If he still had his pilot’s license. But he doesn’t, and even if he did, he would’ve needed a helicopter, which is something he obviously doesn’t have. 

He dreads the thought of calling his parents and canceling his trip, feeling like he's trapped in a cycle of disappointment. The room is getting darker by the minute.

But Frankie's frustration isn't just about the canceled flight. It's also about the fact that he hasn't seen his neighbor since the day he caught her almost falling down the stairs. He had thought there was a spark between them, a bit of heat, but maybe he completely misread the situation. Ever since the day he moved in, Frankie has been infatuated with her. She’s funny, kind, and even helped him move in a few boxes when he first arrived; the boys were late, and yet there she was, ready to offer a helping hand. 

He was ninety-nine percent sure that you would come knocking on his door. 

He sinks further into the couch, his shoulders slumped and brow furrowed. He’s an idiot. He feels defeated, annoyed, and most of all, lonely. 

Just as he's wallowing in self-pity, he hears a curse echoing from the apartment hallway and a series of loud bangs. He straightens his back, the taste of bile lays heavy on his tongue as the sounds continue. His first guess is that the sounds belong to an intruder. Silence fills his apartment, he stops breathing. 

A minute later, after a series of muffled grumbling, someone knocks on his door. His shoulders relax, muscles going limp as he stands up. When he opens the door he finds his neighbor standing there, teeth chattering and covered in snow.

Her eyes sparkle when she sees him, “You’re still here!” you gasp. “Thank god! Like the idiot that I am, I forgot my keys when I left this morning and now I’m locked out. Can you help me?” 

It takes Frankie a good amount of time before his brain starts to work again. You look so small hugging and rubbing yourself for warmth, looking up to him with hopeful eyes. He swallows, his throat feeling thick as he tries not to think about more unconventional ways to warm you up. 

“Frankie?” 

He blinks quickly, a breathless chuckle falling from his lips. If she wasn’t staring at him like a deer in headlight he would’ve slapped himself. “Y-Yeah of course—Just let grab my tools really quick.” 

Just as Frankie turns, he stills his movements and meets your gaze. 

“Would you like my jacket? It’s probably warmer than what you’re wearing right now. It might take me a while to get the door open.” 

When she nods he swears he hears his blood rushing down to his cock. Her—In his jacket? He isn’t a possessive man by all means, but the thought alone makes his fingers twitch and nostrils flare. Without saying another word, he quickly grabs his toolbox and one of his jackets, one that’s thick and plush.

Frankie can't help but feel a little bit guilty for being happy that she was locked out and had to turn to him for help.

You stand and watch Frankie work, and you can't help but be mesmerized by the way the dim hallway light seems to dance across his chiseled features. A hint of stubble shadows his jawline, giving him a rugged, masculine appearance that makes your heart race. His tongue peeks out from between his lips as he works, a small gesture that only serves to intensify the attraction you feel towards him.

You can smell him in his jacket, a heady mix of soap and pine that makes you feel hot just by staring at him. The way he expertly toys with the lock prompts you to shift on your feet, not really knowing what to do with yourself. You can barely concentrate on what he's saying as he tells you about his flight being canceled.

"I can't believe it," he says, clearly frustrated as he twists a screwdriver in the lock. "My folks were looking forward to spending time together, and now I'm stuck here."

"I'm sorry," you say, feeling a twinge of guilt, however, you’re not sure why. "If there's anything I can do to help, just let me know."

Frankie gives you a small smile as he continues to work. "Thanks," he says. "I appreciate it. It's just frustrating, you know? I feel like I'm stuck in this rut, and no matter what I do, things never seem to go my way."

"Hey, I know this is a long shot, but do you want to spend Christmas with me?" you ask suddenly, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you can even think about it.

Frankie's eyes go wide with surprise. "Really?" he says, looking skeptical.

You nod eagerly, feeling nervous at the way he’s looking at you. 

"Yes— I mean, you’re stuck here and I was already planning on spending it at home. And well…if you don’t mind watching cheesy movies with me I think it could be…fun?” 

Frankie looks down at his hands, seeming to think it over for a moment before looking back up at you with a smile. "I'd love to," 

"Awesome," you say, grinning back at him. "I'm excited. We can bake cookies, and just relax and enjoy each other's company."

“Cookies?” he asked with an amused smile. 

“It’s too late for you to run away now, you just said yes.” 

You grin at the way he laughs, his hand stilling as he tries to cover his mouth with the back of his hand. The sound alone makes you feel that it was worth it to lock yourself out. 

“Even if I wanted to run where would I go, cariño? I can’t go anywhere with the storm and I live right next to you.” 

You feel your cheeks grow warm at the endearment, your heart swelling in your chest.

You don’t believe in miracles, but this certainly feels like one. 

You and Frankie are both sitting on the couch. You realize he’s scanning your apartment, thus far having only seen the entrance. The living room is bursting with Christmas decorations, twinkling lights, and colorful ornaments adorning every surface. There's a small tree in the corner, its branches laden with tinsel and glittering balls. It's a cozy and welcoming sight, which was what you were going for.

"Wow, you really went all out," Frankie says, taking in the sight of the room with a smile. "It looks amazing."

"Thanks," you say, grinning back at him. 

Two mugs of hot cocoa topped with whipped cream stand on the coffee table. You sink down onto the cushions, pulling a warm blanket over both of your laps as you huddle close together. The room is dark and quiet, the only sound is the soft clink of your mugs as you take a sip.

"This is perfect," Frankie says, snuggling closer to you as he wraps his hands around his mug. "Much more stress-free. Is it bad that I’m not that mad anymore at my flight getting canceled?"

You can't help but laugh. "I think the hot cocoa might have gone to your head," you tease, nudging him playfully.

"Maybe," Frankie says with a grin. "But I stand by what I said. I'm lucky to be here with you."

You feel a warm glow spread through your chest at his words. You never expected to spend the holidays with someone as wonderful as Frankie. 

“I’m lucky too.” 

Silence follows your words and you take a sip of hot cocoa. There’s definitely sparks flying all around you, there’s no way you’re imagining the heat that is continually building. You cross your legs, your knee brushing agains his thigh. You desperately try to come up with a conversation topic, your eyes scanning the room for inspiration. 

However, all you can think of is how your knee still rests against his thick thigh, the way he effortlessly unlocked your door for you, and the way he laughed in the hallway. Your brain is screaming at you to just confess, tell him that ever since you laid eyes on his beautiful face that you’ve been smitten. 

But instead, you do something else. 

You do something stupid. 

You see his tattoo. 

And you press it, like a button— Luckily, you only make the boop sound internally. 

“What are you doing?” 

Frankie looks at you, reasonably, confused but smiling, his lips slightly curved up with one eyebrow raised. You open and close your mouth, only high-pitched noises leaving your lips. His gaze drops to where you’re still poking him, the tip of your finger still pressing into his inked skin. You swallow and quickly pull your hand back, wrapping it around the mug. 

“I–I–” you stutter, biting the inside of your cheek. “God, I’m sorry— It’s just I didn’t know what to say and I always wanted to press it—like a button– In my defense, people are programmed to press stuff they’re not supposed to—” 

You try to explain yourself in one breath, in the end, your lungs burn, your chest heaving as if you’ve been running a marathon. Frankie stares at you a beat longer, then he takes your mug from your hands and places both his and yours back on the coffee table. You think that he’s going to leave and that he thinks you’re crazy and will never speak to you again. 

He leans closer, his arm now resting against the back of the couch, fingertips brushing your shoulder. "It's okay," he says, his lips curving up in a smile. "I know what you meant. It's just a tattoo, no big deal."

"I'm sorry," you say, shaking your head. "I don't know what came over me. I just couldn't resist the urge anymore."

Frankie gives you a wink. "Well, I'm glad you didn't resist," he says. "I’m not gonna lie, I kinda liked it."

“You did?”

He nods. “I did.”

He’s very close, the space between you crackling with electricity. You find yourself looking at his lips, which he parts as his gaze meets yours. Your heart is pounding in your throat, the ringing in your ears almost deafening.

“Do you…” he swallows thickly, his palm now fully covering your shoulder. “Do you appreciate anything else?” 

The corners of your vision seem to darken as if you are looking at him through a filter. The lights from the Christmas tree shift, bathing the two of you in a warm red glow. Your stomach is tight with anticipation.

“I do,” you speak slowly, softly. 

“And what might that be?” 

“You,” 

“Yeah?” 

You can see literally sparkles in his eyes. His voice is light and hopeful, you’re not sure but you think he’s inching closer. You nod as you wet your lips. 

“Do you appreciate anything?” 

“I appreciate you.” 

His fingers touch your cheek, thumb moving to the corner of your lips. The skin he touches tingles, a sharp sensation that has warmth pooling between your legs. 

"Can I kiss you?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes," you breathe out, your eyes locked on his lips.

His fingers tighten around your shoulder, the bite of his nails sharp through the fabric of your shirt. A barely there moan escapes your lips, the anticipation of this moment finally coming to fruition too much to bear.

When his lips meet yours, you feel a wave of heat wash over you. The taste of hot cocoa is on his lips, rich and velvety, and you find yourself moaning even louder as you wrap your arms around his neck. You've been waiting for this moment for so long, and now that it's here, all pretense of self-control leaves you.

He deepens the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hands roam over your body. Fire ignites within you, burning bright and hot, and you can't help but press closer to him. His touch is electric, leaving you dizzy and breathless, and you find yourself clinging to him as the kiss grows more and more intoxicating.

Finally, you pull back, gasping for air. You're left feeling dazed, your lips tingling and your body humming. You curse that you need oxygen to survive, you would much rather lock your lips with Frankie until death comes to claim you. 

Frankie isn’t doing any better than you, panting with swollen lips. His pupils eat away the color of his eyes, blown with arousal. 

“You really want this?” he asks, blinking as if he’s trying to convince himself this isn’t real. 

“Frankie, I’ve been wanting this since the first moment I laid my eyes on you,” you smile, touching the hand that still rests on your cheek. “I thought I was being obvious. I did ask you out, you know,” 

Frankie looks taken aback. "You did?" 

You nod, still smiling. "Yeah, I asked you out for coffee…then there was the time I tried to hint that I had too many leftovers and that I wished someone would join me…I hinted that I was free when you mentioned you had to go to Benny’s boxing match…"

You watch with delight as all the insistence you just mentioned strings together before his eyes. His mouth falls, his eyebrows lifting as his eyes go wide. 

“Oh shit. I’m…I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry, I genuinely had no idea. I– I also thought I was being obvious when I told you to come by if you needed anything. I wanted you to come over.” 

“Really?” you chuckle and touch your forehead. “I thought you were just being polite.” 

“I guess we both have to get better at this. So how about I take you out for dinner tomorrow when the weather clears up a bit?” 

“Does that mean I have to wait until then to kiss you again?” you ask, pouting and attempting at your best version of puppy dog eyes. 

Your eyes light up when he laughs. “Absolutely not, querida. Come here,” 

He spreads his legs as you move to straddle his lap, his hands drop to the curve of your ass. Squeezing, he guides you to roll your hips. The contact isn’t much, but your eyes still roll back at the drag of his length, already hard underneath his sweats. Your lips meet with desperation, your hands cradling the frame of his face as he forces you down against his lap. You whine into his mouth, nails grazing against his skin. Frankie licks the seam and pushes his tongue between your lips, every movement he makes is led by hunger. 

Your skin burns with his touch, hand guiding the sloppy roll of your hips, you grow wetter and wetter by every passing second. The lights turn blue, you notice the sharp lines of his face soften. 

“Frankie— Can we— Can you—” 

He drags his lips down to your neck, teeth gently nipping the front of your throat. A pleasant shudder overcomes your body, a blissful sigh dropping from your mouth. 

“Tell me what you need,” he murmurs, fingers playing with the waistband of your sweats. “I want to give it all to you. Whatever you need— My mouth, my fingers…my cock,” 

Your eyes flutter close, “Oh god,” 

He chuckles, tongue tasting the salt of your skin, his fingers dip under your waistband and gently caress the skin. You shiver. 

“But I can’t do any of that if you don’t tell me,” 

“I—I want it all,” 

His grin makes your stomach roll, “Greedy.” 

That’s all he says before helping you up and guiding you towards the… bathroom, in which you then guide him to the actual bedroom. You’re still giggling about it as you’re falling to the bed, the weight of Frankie’s body soon following. 

“Very suave,” you say, his lips leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “You fuck all your neighbors in the bathroom?” 

“It was a mistake,” he growls, but his tone is playful. “But if we’re being honest, I’m not above fucking you in every room of this apartment,” 

The series of images your brain provides are downright sinful. You tremble, legs closing around his waist, hs grins is wide when he leans down and nips at your chin. 

“You like that?” he coos. “Maybe that can be my gift to you? Would you like that, bebita. Me, fucking you in every corner— Your pussy dripping and making a mess of the hardwood floors—” He cuts himself with a sharp inhale, a moan following. Frankie laughs and shakes his head, avoiding your gaze. “I think I turned myself on too much. You were supposed to be the only one affected,” 

“Well, I am definitely affected. If that helps,” 

“You’re amazing, you know that?” 

You blink with surprise, lips parting with a gasp. Before you can even process his words, or say something in return, Frankie's hands are on your waist, his fingers deftly pulling at your shirt.

You feel a rush of excitement as he undresses you quickly, his hands moving with a sense of purpose. Your clothes fall away from your body, becoming a pile on the floor. You watch as Frankie undresses, his muscles soft but there, his stomach rounded and perfect for kissing. 

He slowly moves down from your chest to your stomach, his facial hair tickling you as he moves. He cups and squeezes both your breasts, lips leaving wet kisses across your mound. Your pussy drools with anticipation, the inside of your thighs a glistening mess by the time Frankie drags his tongue between your folds. You clench around nothing at the way he groans, tongue moving up and down your sex. His fingers dig into your thighs, forcing your legs up his broad shoulders. 

Frankie latches his lips, tongue flicking over your clit again and again. Your moans come out choked and garbled, your legs trembling as you accidentally dig your heels into his back. You fist his hair, the knots in your stomach tightening when he moves his lips around, and you see a glimpse of a shine coating them. You hold your breath when he looks up, soft brown looking filtered, and he dives back in, swirling and flicking his tongue as he loudly sucks and gulps— you can hear him swallow eagerly, and your head falls back to the pillows. 

You lose yourself in the bliss, the sin of it all making you willing to die at the touch of his lips. His tongue, his mouth, the sting of his nails against your skin— It all snowballs and crashes into you, building and building until you can’t contain it anymore. You vaguely hear him whispering between every lick of his tongue, you pull at his hair again, his muffled voice now clearer. 

“You taste so good,” he says, words slurring. “So fucking good— You’re gonna feel amazing around my cock, so warm and— fuck— wet,” 

“Frankie—” You lift your hips, your body desperately seeking his mouth. “Please, need to come. Please please please,” 

“I got you, sweetheart, don’t worry. You’re doing so good, so so good,” You feel his breath on your wet pussy, you squeal and squirm. “Say it. I wanna hear it.” 

“Wha—What?” 

You’re completely out of it. You manage to lift your head to meet his gaze, your neck feeling strained. He’s looking directly into your eyes, a ghost of a smile cheating at his lips. 

“Repeat it,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing on earth. “Say that you’re doing so good for me,” 

“I’m…I’m,” you swallow and breathe out from your nose. “I’m doing so good for you, so so good,” 

You don’t expect the wave of arousal that washes over you, Frankie hums and presses his lips into you once more and draws your aching clit into his mouth. You repeat it again, a series of ‘so, so good’s coming out slurred. Your head falls back; you are doing good. So good. Frankie’s tongue feels like velvet, heaven between his lips. 

You just can’t take it anymore. 

You come with a cry, his name coming out sheer from your throat. Without meaning to you press him into you, he doesn’t seem to mind— In fact, it looks like it edges him on because he moves his mouth faster, almost frenzied. Your head spins, cunt gushing and flooding his mouth. Your body becomes rigid, then limp. You fall back to the bed, legs falling and arms feeling lifeless. Frankie kisses your pussy, the sensation of his lips gentle and comforting. 

“How was it?” he asks, his face coming into view. 

“That was great,” you breathe out a chuckle, still feeling disoriented. “You have quite the mouth on you,” 

“Hmmm, I bet yours is better,” Frankie leans in and gives you a quick kiss, nuzzling your neck. “What are your thoughts about part two?” 

“I think I need to catch my breath first,” 

Frankie chuckles, his breath tickles your skin and you smile. 

“I did promise I would fuck you in every room.” 

[fourstarsoutofnine]

May I request some Hyrule fluff where he accidentally confessed to someone in the chain about his raging crush on the reader and then that someone told the reader? Hyrule's all sad abt it and wants to disappear bc he thinks "what business would they want with a loser like me?" so reader has to reassure him that's not the case at all

A/n:if there’s one thing I’m an advocate for, it’s making Rulie feel better about himself. Y’all know my favs are Rulie, four and legend🩷I wrote this in one go while taking breaks to slap box my cat, he kept biting me.

Warnings:only the abuse of italics used for emphasis. When you’re reading, read the italicized words like you’re stressing it. Y’all know that tho ofc. Also, this ain’t proofread

Reassurance.

Hyrule x Reader

The traveler is an incredible person all around. Kind, fun, adventurous, thoughtful—and don’t even get me started on what an incredible hero he is… but he doesn’t see it that way. Imposter syndrome is one heck of a mindset, and boy is it something he’s got.. imposter syndrome is something that makes you downplay your abilities and accomplishments, and if you ever asked the traveler if he lived up to the hero name, or his friends’ heroic abilities—or even the spirit of courage he’d tell you he didn’t. He’d negate the idea and change the subject before you even had the chance to refute him on it. Such was the exact reason he hadn’t confessed to a soul his feelings for you—especially not to you. You were incredible in his eyes, a sight to behold and an even bigger honor to be friends with. Although, he figured next to someone like the captain, the champion or even the smith he figured he couldn’t compete. In his mind he wasn’t even in the competition, let alone a contender in this race. He was just a traveler, someone who’s heroics were that of a happenstance. Right place right time kind of thing. Though, this longing and hearing for you was making him sick, keeping it to himself, he felt like a grocery bag with too many heavy items in it—ready to break and spill out all the contents. The contents, of course, being the way he thought of you, the dreams he had at night of laying by you watching the stars and making up your own constellations, whispering and giggling at what one another said. He’d kill and die for you, if only for a fraction of your time in return. He had to tell someone.

And oh, poor unsuspecting Sky. Sweet thing, he only wanted to help.

“Sky can i talk to you?” The traveler asked as he walked up to the hero, who was whittling down some wood to make into a little figurine for the ever bored sailor, who’d spent far too long at camp without something to do(the vet was going to strangle him had someone not suggested the boy go out and find a lake to play in while sky made a toy for him).

Sky looked up with a soft smile and baby blues the traveler was sure you’d prefer to his own dark brown eyes; they didn’t shine like sky’s did. “Sure! What’s up?” He sat down his project(which would be much to the vet’s dismay when the sailor returned and it wasn’t finished) to give the traveler his full attention.

“I have a confession to make. It’s nothing bad but-…..actually yes it is.” He started, already feeling defeated as his shoulders slumped, not wanting to admit it but also wanting to get it off his chest at the very same time. “I’m afraid I’ve caught feelings for y/n—which normally wouldn’t be a problem—only, they’re y/n, and I’m unfortunately nobody they’d like..”

“Are you kidding??? Of course they like you!!! They’d be thrilled to know!!!” Sky got up and the traveler panicked.

“Sky, where are you going—“

“To tell y/n! It’s nonsense you think they won’t like you! Like I said they’ll be thrilled!”

“Sky, no, please that—please don’t…” he stopped following the young man, looking like a sad wet cat with how defeated he felt. He was sure this was the end of your friendship. Farore, strike him down now. It’s over for him. He could’ve swore he saw the events of his life flash before his eyes as he watched Sky make his way over to you. He said something the traveler couldn’t hear, but he assumed it was the song of his death March. His eulogy. ‘There lies Link, our dear sweet traveler, who despite everything he went through, who saved his Hyrule from true doom and despair, despite the efforts of everything that tried to stop him from doing so, died of a broken heart—‘

In his lamenting, you had made your way over to him with soft eyes and the saddest smile. “—Link.” Your voice broke through his thoughts and you were glad it had finally not fallen on deaf ears. His eyes widened when he noticed you standing in front of him and he suddenly felt his breakfast pushing at the top of his throat, wanting to escape the twisting and turning of the nervous butterflies the rushed the home it had made in his stomach.

“Hi.” You said exasperatedly in a laugh. “What’s this about you saying you’re ‘nobody I’d like’? Of course I like you?”

“But why?” He finally broke. “Why would you? I’m not—I’m not a real hero—and I’m not strong like the rancher or skilled and talented like the smith or suave like the captain and Hylia knows I can’t cook like the champion, and—“

You put a hand on his cheek and kissed him. His words died in his throat and he melted, every bit of tension, every single thought—it all melted away the moment your lips touched his. You pulled away with a smile, wiping away the tear caught on the edge of his eyelashes.

“You don’t have to be. Link I don’t care if you’re not strong or skilled and talented or suave or can cook—I wouldn’t care if you were. I wouldn’t even care if you weren’t a hero—because that’s not why I like you. Din—I love you, Link. I love you because you’re sweet, and thoughtful, and caring and you put yourself before others—granted it’s sometimes—heck, oftentimes to your own detriment but regardless! You’re amazing, and I love you…”

The traveler couldn’t speak. He was at a total loss for words.

“…Link..?”

“…thank you…” he pulled you into a tight hug and you smiled sadly, hugging him back.

“Of course…” you said and let him take his time and break away on his own. Once he did, you smiled sadly again as you watched him wipe his tears.

“So-…are-… are we…”

“Yes. We are.” You said definitively and smiled when he lit up. He pulled you in again and gave you a kiss that was broken shortly after when the veteran yelled at the sailor for following him around and asking him questions about his magical items. You then looked over to see sky, frantically whittling down the toy that was meant to be finished by the time the boy returned to camp.

“..whoops.” The traveler laughed nervously. “..we’re gonna not tell the vet I pulled sky away from his work… he’s not the best to be around when he’s mad…” he said and you covered your mouth to keep you from laughing. Though, even if the vet did come to drag your boyfriend away and tell him off, the both of you were sure it wouldn’t ruin your day. Not after the moment you two shared.

[purplebirdsees]

Warm-up: Whatever - Part 2

part 1 / part 3

Mom was usually the one to do the groceries, mostly because she was always at home, while I’d be tagging along to help her carry the bags because I was the eldest who was also always at home. She told me once in a run that dad was the one who would always accompany her, that he’d be just like me, quiet, yet attentive to her every word. Back then I was a baby, and mom was still in her old job as a secretary of a government agency, the one she keeps on cursing on and on for firing her for having ‘conflicting schedules’ because she was constantly pregnant. I can’t help but notice her eyes be filled with a passion, that it would look significantly bigger and brighter as she’d recall the people she talked to, the people she helped, and the people she befriended. As she’d look back at her grocery list, however, she’d squint with a dull look, as if thinking about it too much would hurt. 4

As fun as my mother’s grocery run stories were, sometimes, it just feels nice to be able to focus solely on the ‘grocery’ part.

Dad handed me the shopping basket and the list of supplies, then placed his hand on my shoulder. My shoulders involuntary tensed up, as he flicked the back earlobe with his thumb. He does this all the time, said that it’s a habit at this point because back when I was a baby, I was a really messy eater and would get milk all over my head, which included the back of my ears. He said whenever he’d clean that spot, I’d always laugh. Up until now he’d always do it, and sure, if I was still three years old and was in a bad temper, maybe I’d let out a little giggle. At that time, it kinda just made me want to cringe, not just because of the story, but because my ears are sensitive. I don’t want to tell him that, though; besides, he’d just laugh at me, saying something along the lines of ‘it’s never failed me once, so why should I bother?’

My first stop was the pen isle. The multitude of colored pens and markers were hard to not look at, and although I knew exactly what to buy, which were the cheap, black ones that were always sold 15 pieces a box, it wouldn’t hurt to try out a few others, right?

The first thing that I grabbed was the pens that everyone in my class seems to have.5 I’ve tried it before in school; a classmate told me to write their notes because they broke their index and middle finger, and insisted I use their pen. It had a needle-like nib, which was extremely prone to bending. It wasn’t really useless if it did bend, but it was annoying to change your wrist’s position just to be able to write anything. That was one of the reason why mom didn’t want me to buy one, not to mention the price of one was enough to buy each for all my brothers the one, cheap pen brand that she preferred.

I wrote my name on the test writing paper. The pen glided on the paper smoothly, just like how I remembered it. They were unlike the bulky, cheap pens that always felt a little too slippery when I wrote, and most of the time I write fast, which would result to sloppy handrwiting. This made my handwriting feel like I was mature, without the wobbliness the cheap pens did. I could also write smaller because of the nib, which would help a lot in saving up notebook space. Overall, this pen made my usual handwriting look good, impressive even in my eyes. I want one, I really want it, but… 6

‘Not today Tsuzuru, okay?’ I could almost feel her hand wrap around mine that was clutching the pen. ‘One day, I promise. One day.’

I placed back the pen on the rack. I took a deep breath, then released it, hoping that the heavy feeling in my chest would let go of me. Today wasn’t that day, unfortunately... unsurprisingly...

At the corner of my eye, I was a figure enter the isle. I placed back the pen then moved to the other side, which had a whole section of the ones I was supposed to be buying; unsurprisingly, they were on sale too. Well, there goes the fun, I thought, as I tried to casually pick up the black cardboard box and inspected if it had dents, pretending I was here all this time. I bet that guy was going to buy that pen, like everyone else is. Everyone else… but me.

Each second I spent looking for dents, the more the weight of my feelings in my chest slowly felt lighter... This one looks fine enough. Four more boxes and I can go find—

Pffft.

I stopped, mid-way returning a box that had a dent in one of the corners, then turned my head around to where the noise was. I think, and I’m pretty sure it came from the person who just arrived, which surprisingly was a kid, probably younger than me based from their height. Was he… I checked the back of my shirt and pants if there was a weird looking stain or had something stuck to it. It was clean, as much as I looked. Maybe it was something their companion, or guardian by the looks of it, said? I shook it off, placing back the box.

… Somehow, though, it didn’t feel like that was the case. I blinked hard, as my heartbeat slowly rose from a steady rhythm to an abnormal pace. What was I doing again? I looked at my had. Box, right. Uhm… dents. Dents. Dents… it looks okay, I think. I grabbed one and oh god, why did that have to fall—grab, quick. Look for dents… okay… none… I think…?

Pshhhhh, hahahaha.

One, two, three… six. Okay, okay. I bent my head down as I headed out the isle. I could feel the kid’s eyes on me, and I didn’t want to look because I knew what kind of face he was making. That is, if he was looking at me, and… just don’t look, don’t look, don’t look, don’t—

Hmpfffffffhfhfhfhfh…!

Out of pure reflex, my neck involuntarily turned my head to the side, my eyes going straight to where the kid’s face was. Which was, in fact his eyes that were staring straight into mine. The tips of his mouth looked like they were touching his ears, and inside was a full display shiny, silver braces. For one mere second I felt my heartbeat at my ears as a very sharp jab of pain jolted my chest. Look away, I thought, but at that second I couldn’t, not with his eyes glaring right at me, as if his gaze held enough power with whatever emotion was in his wide eyes that they were almost telekinetic.

A soft ding came from the store’s speakers, like a snap of a finger finally breaking me free from hypnosis. I turned my head, let out a cough, and ran as quickly as I can out of that isle—that, that kid—and ran as quickly to the folders section.

---

4 [tsz] irrelevant info; if possible remove/revise maybe focus more on the grocery part and less on anything else

5 fuck I remember those pens tsuzuru I have a few spare u can have some if u want bud dw they give us those pens for free trust

6 [tsz] 50/50 abt this desc its not good but not bad

part 1 part 3

[yournameoneverypage]

Playing House

Anon request. Shawn x reader. Prompt: “We’re best friends, we made out…we’re practically married.”

Word Count: ~2k

Notes: Another request that took me too long to write! Idk who you are, anon, but I hope you like it. I hope you all like it! 💗

Warnings: None. Pretty much all fluff. Hot make-out, leading to smut, but no actual smut. Sorry, lovies. Don't hate me.

~ * ~

You close the door behind you, making sure the lock engages, and set your clutch on the entryway console table, sighing deeply. Tarzan sprints toward you in greeting and looking for scratches. You oblige and ask, “Is Daddy still up?” He chuffs. “I’ll be there in a minute.” He shoots back off to Shawn’s room.

After changing into your pajamas, washing your face, and brushing your teeth, you make your way to Shawn’s bedroom. He is leaning back against a mound of pillows, in only pajama pants and his wire-framed glasses, MacBook open on his lap, tousled curls falling in his eyes. You lean your shoulder against the doorframe, tender smile on your lips. You always breathe easier in his presence.

Shawn closes his laptop and turns to look at you, removing his glasses and reaching over to set them on the night table. “You’re home early. What, no fireworks?” He had tried not to think about you being on a date, it had made his stomach sour. But still, you’re his best friend and he wanted to be supportive. He taps the bed beside him.

“No fireworks.” He hands you his laptop and you set it on his dresser before crawling into his bed and snuggling into his side. “Not even a spark. It was just...weird.”

“What was? Your date or your date?” he chortles.

You gently thump his stomach. “He was attractive, charming, genuine, a perfect gentleman.”

“Well, then what was the problem?”

You sigh and sit up again, crisscrossing your legs, facing him. He does the same. Your knees are touching. “You.”

“Me??”

“You’re crimping my style,” you mutter.

He snorts. “I am not taking the blame for whatever was weird about your date.”

“I guess I’m just used to being around you, and out with you, where everything is comfortable and easy and fun. We’re best friends, we made out...we’re practically married. You know all my quirks and insecurities; I don’t have to hide those with you.”

He snickers. “How did we go from best friends who make out to practically married?”

“Made out. Once.”

“I’m not opposed to doing that again, you know.” He places his hands on the outsides of your thighs and starts to stroke your skin with the pads of his thumbs. “I like the way you kiss.”

“Do you even remember what it was like to kiss me?” you giggle.

“I remember,” he declares.

You raise an eyebrow, smirk on your lips. “You were pretty wasted, bub.”

“I’m pretty sure I liked it.”

“Mmhm. I don’t even know what possessed me to let you kiss me in the first place.”

“I’m irresistible,” he grins.

“That’s open to debate,” you snark.

“Ha ha,” he scowls. “So, let me try again. Sober this time.”

“No.” You drop your eyes. “It took me a week to even get past that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly. “Never mind.”

“We’ll circle back to that.”

You wish that hadn’t slipped out. He absolutely would circle back to that; he wasn’t just going to let it go. You think, maybe subconsciously, you wanted to say it, that you actually meant to.

He taps beneath your chin, effectively drawing your eyes back to his. “Tell me how we’re practically married,” he chuckles.

“We live together and are constantly in each other’s space. Sometimes annoyingly so. I have meals ready for you when you get home from meetings or the studio. Truthfully, I do most of the cooking. And why do I do most of the cooking?”

“Because I can’t be trusted alone in the kitchen,” he mumbles, rolling his eyes.

“But you clear the table and run the dishwasher, bub. You also carry heavy grocery bags, kill all the spiders, investigate odd noises, and try to fix things that get broken.”

“Hey!” he scoffs.

“Name one time we haven’t had to call maintenance or a repairman.”

He tries, nose scrunched, eyes showing the thoughts tumbling in his mind.

You simply laugh.

“I also take out the trash.”

“Yes, you do, sweetie.”

“And who takes Tarzan for walks on the coldest days of the year?” Tarzan’s head cocks and ears perk up from the foot of the bed. Shawn chuckles. “Sorry boy,” he says, placing a hand on his rump. “Settle.”

“He’s your dog.”

He puts his hand over his heart and gasps. “If we’re practically married, he’s our dog.”

“I take care of our dog when you’re on business trips. I keep the house nice for when my bub comes home from appearances, events, and tour.” His cheeks pink when you say, ‘my bub’. “I even keep track of your schedule,” you continue. “You’re lucky you have me as your faux-wife. No one else could keep you on task or generally put up with your shit or your moods.”

“You’re not being a very nice faux-wife right now,” he pouts.

“I’m about to not be very nice again,” you caution. “It’s your weekend to do laundry.”

He groans dramatically. “You know how much I hate doing laundry.”

“Offer me a trade then.”

“What chores are on your list that you still have yet to do?” he asks.

“Changing the sheets and making the beds-”

“I’ll do that!” he interrupts before you can add anything more.

“That’s not a fair trade because stripping the beds creates more laundry.” To be honest, you don’t mind doing laundry, you just get a giggle out of his moaning and grumbling on his laundry weeks. He always sulks and complains like a petulant child. It amuses you.

“Fine. What else?”

“Cleaning your bathroom.”

He smirks. “And why is my bathroom on your chore list?”

You wrinkle your nose. “Because I use it more than you do.”

“Mmhm.”

“I like your tub better,” you say, with a slight shrug.

“And who runs your baths for you?”

“You do.”

“Who never complains about your lotions and scrubs and creams all over every available surface of his bathroom?”

“You,” you acknowledge.

“Who goes to the store at odd hours to get you whatever you’re craving when you’re on your period?”

“You do,” you admit.

“Who packs your lunch for you every night so all you have to do is grab it and go in the morning?” By now it’s all rhetorical. “Who reminds you to eat and hydrate in the evenings or on weekends when you’re working towards a deadline? Who always gives you the bigger half, the last bite, or the better piece of anything we share? Who leaves little notes all over the house with words of affirmation on them?”

“Are you done?” you huff. He can see the little smile you’re trying not to let show. He truly is the best boyfriend you’ve ever had and he isn’t even your boyfriend.

“You’re lucky you have me,” he parrots back at you, immensely pleased with himself.

“If I agree, will you stop?” you grumble.

“Agree to what?” he teases.

“Shawn,” you whine.

“Agree that I’m the best faux-husband ever and you’re lucky to have me.”

“You’re a good faux-hubby,” you concede.

“Not just good.” A swift maneuver puts you on your back on the bed and he is suddenly hovering over you, smirking. “Come on, wife.”

You know if you don’t say what he wants to hear he’ll tickle you mercilessly. “Fine!” You attempt to push him off of you, laughing, but he’s strong and stubborn. “You’re the best faux-husband ever.”

“And?”

“And I’m lucky to have you.” You are. Shawn falls onto his back, pulling you on top of him across his chest. “You take good care of me,” you breathe.

He places a kiss on top of your head. “We take care of each other,” he says softly. He absentmindedly traces shapes against the strip of bare skin at the small of your back.

After a few silent moments, he asks, “Can we at least have a conversation about it?”

“About what?” you wonder quietly, content as you are. Shawn is always so warm and smells so good.

“Making out.”

You start to push out of his arms. “Can we not?”

“Circling back.”

“Let it go, bub,” you exhale, sitting up, turning your back on him.

You make a move to leave his bed but before you can, he encircles your wrist with his large hand. “What did you mean?”

You glance at his hand around your wrist. “Shawn...”

“You said it took you a week to get past it... Am I really to blame for how your date went?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you try to assure him, briefly meeting his eyes. He’s propped himself up on his side.

He gives your wrist a little tug. “Talk to me.”

Your eyes close. “He wasn’t you,” you whisper. “No one is ever you.”

“Babe,” he breathes, sitting up against the pillows again. You allow him to pull you back into bed. “Look at me.” You try, cheeks bright red from your admission. “Why do you think it’s been so long since I’ve been on a date of my own? My darling, no one is ever you.”

Your heart starts thumping wildly and finally you’re able to meet his eyes again.

“I want to remember what it was like to kiss you,” he murmurs, brushing the pad of his thumb along your bottom lip. “We’re practically married, after all,” he smirks, breaking the awkward anticipation.

You snort and he laughs, which makes you laugh.

“What do you say? Come on, honey.” He pulls you closer to him. “Make out with me.” He continues to draw you nearer still, until you’re almost in his lap.

“It’s going to change everything,” you express, thoughtfully. Yet you move to straddle him, which you can tell he likes with the little growl at the back of his throat and shift of his hips. You drape your arms over his shoulders and wrap your hands around his neck.

He grips your hips and tugs you even closer. “Let it,” he hums.

He brushes his lips across yours. You gently capture his lower lip between yours. You kiss him, tentatively at first, reveling in how it feels to have his mouth fully under yours. Drunk and messy had been enough to make you lightheaded. This is something else entirely.

The tip of his tongue nudges the seam of your lips, encouraging them to part. Sparks of fire race and settle in stomach and inguen as tongues touch and explore and kisses turn deep and hungry. The mint of your mouths dissipates until all you can taste is each other.

You break apart only enough to breathe, hearts thudding, bodies buzzing, throbbing where you are pressed closest together.

“Yep. I knew I liked it,” he mumbles through a dopey grin against your lips.

You giggle. “No babe...” You inhale. “This is different,” you breathe on the exhale.

“We should’ve done this a long time ago,” he whispers.

Your lips touch again and you lose yourselves in one another until he hears the little moan you hadn’t meant to express.

“Yep,” he shudders, affected more than he ever imagined he could be from such a small sound. “We’re gonna have sex now.”

“Are we?” you hum, dragging fingernails lightly across his upper back.

“Mmhm.” He gives a sharp whistle and points to the bedroom door. The golden retriever jumps off the bed and leaves the room.

He pulls your camisole up, over your head, and off, tossing it aside. “You know, like married couples are prone to do...” His eyes fall on bare breasts he’d only imagined ever seeing. He cups one and lowers his mouth to its pink-tipped peak. He focuses his attention on your breasts until you’re whimpering.

“And then I’ll change the sheets and make the beds.” He flips you over and settles himself between your legs. You impatiently push his pajama bottoms down and he wriggles out of them, throwing them aside as well. “Maybe I’ll even clean my bathroom.”

You laugh throatily, which turns him up another notch. He eagerly slips your panties over your hips, down, and off, dropping them over the side of the bed. Hands on either side of you to support his weight, he lowers his lips to yours again.

Between licks and tugs, he murmurs against your mouth, “But you have to do the laundry.”

~ * ~

@mendesblurb @benito-mi-vida @shawn-is-my-giant-jellybean @silverswallow @hiding-behind-a-flower @weedangel-x @monikamendes @mendesficsxbombay (I wish my taglist was longer!)

[writer-in-theory]

m&ms and healing — aaron hotchner

summary: hotch misses the days when everyone had fun in the office. he’s determined to bring that back. request: Hello I saw your thing abt random conversations and also writing requests and so like I was thinking you remember early CM where Gideon was eating a fruit (tangerine? Mandarin?) and while talking casually shared pieces with Elle and stuff? We didn't see that in the later seasons as much and I think that's a grave loss. Like yeah, there were team dinners and stuff but like. Think of Emily eating M&Ms or something and Morgan just fucken opening his mouth real wide waiting for her to notice and throe one in. Then they bring throw-able snacks to work for expressly that purpose. JJ gets in on it willingly, but they have to bribe Reid by bringing a snack he really likes and saying he can /only/ eat them if he lets them throw whatever food into his mouth. For Hotch, he misses the physics magic days. pairing: none, gen fic category: hurt/comfort content warnings: spoilers through season 7, discussions of the team eating snacks, brief mentions of hankel and doyle word count: 1.3k

summer of fics masterlist masterlist want to join my taglist?

The change wasn’t obvious at first. It happened so slowly that Hotch wondered if maybe no one else had noticed at first, either. That maybe, this was a part of the normal evolution of life and maybe the team wasn’t meant to stay as close as they once were.

But no, that couldn’t be true, either, because the team was as close as before, maybe even more so. Hotch didn’t miss the way Derek’s hand would linger on Spencer’s shoulder when he checked in on the other man, and the way JJ would always look to Emily when a case even resembling Doyle would come up as if cataloging and checking every minute change in the woman’s face to find a sign of her struggling.

The moment Hotch could tell what was different should have been insignificant. He’d rushed to his office after, feeling out of breath despite no physical activity out of the norm for him. It made sense why he hadn’t noticed it until now—no one ate in the office anymore.

It had happened so subtly that Hotch wasn’t sure when it stopped. Had it been when Gideon quit the team and stopped bringing in all those little mandarin oranges? Or maybe it was when Elle left, who everyone brought a snack for because she seemed to immerse herself in certain cases more intensely than others. It could have been when Spencer was held hostage by Hankel, when the physics magic stopped occurring so too did the joyful exchange of tiny hand-held foods.

There were so many moments experienced over the years by the team, so many that should have been the main impactor that there was no way to trace back the end of it all. What Hotch knew though, was that the team was irreparably changed, and he missed them.

Back then, he’d been annoyed when he’d walk into the office to see Morgan and Prentiss throwing popcorn at each other’s open mouths, cheering loudly when one of them made the shot. He shook his head and pretended he wasn’t amused when JJ was brought into the ordeal, the other woman bringing in a little bag of M&Ms and declaring that she could get Spencer on board if they switched to those.

Within two weeks, they had nearly the entire team in on it, tossing little candy pieces at each other sometimes so wildly that there was no way they were aiming at the intended target. He’d never noticed it before, but Hotch’s report writing grew more productive when he worked to the sound of his team’s joyous laughter.

Now, he only wrote to silence.

It wasn’t that they didn’t love each other, but maybe that they did too much now. They’ve been through too much in such a short amount of time—more than anyone should ever have to go through in a lifetime much less a measly handful of years. Hotch could see the heavy signs of care and yet all he wished for now was the mess of M&Ms coating the BAU office floor.

Maybe that was why, the next time he found his way to a grocery store, Hotch bought the largest bag of M&Ms he could find along with a bag of pre-popped popcorn.

He put off setting it out for another couple of weeks. It was easy to blame on cases—they’d had a few tough ones in recent months and he didn’t want to seem callous by setting out a bowl of candy after a loss of a case.

Eventually, though, there was nothing to do but try to let his team know that he loved them. So, he found a spare Tupperware bowl in the breakroom that must have been abandoned years ago. He dumped the snacks into it and simply left it by the microwave, hoping one of them would realize what he was trying to tell them. What he was begging for, really.

Because Hotch could not imagine this team without any of the individual members there now. Yet, the way they were going now he knew they would lose another one too quickly to burnout, or grief, or simple yet unbearable exhaustion. It was how they’d lost Gideon and Elle, two team members that he wished could have met their newest addition. Two team members who felt more like family than anyone Hotch had worked with back in Seattle. 

It was JJ who noticed first. 

“Derek, did you bring this?” she called one day, leaning her head out of the breakroom’s doorframe. 

Unfortunately, Hotch’s phone rang before he could hear an answer, but it must not have been enough because the floor was nearly silent by the time the call ended.

It eventually was Derek who made the first move. Hotch could always count on Derek to notice when a team member—a family member—needed help. Sometimes in the physical sense, always being the one kicking down the door when one of their own was hurt, but more often than not he was the one making sure their souls were as unscarred as possible. When Spencer was rescued from Hankel, it was Derek who sat in a stiff hospital chair all night just to make sure the other man wouldn’t wake up alone. And though it had been JJ who remained in contact with Emily after her supposed death, it was Derek who came by her apartment when she admitted a month later that she wasn't sure it would ever feel like home again.

And it was Derek Morgan who noticed Hotch’s offer, who noticed what he was trying to tell him.

“Hey, Reid, catch!” Derek laughed, tossing an M&M the man’s way even though Spencer hadn’t fully turned yet. Spencer seemed startled, head reeling back as though the candy had been weighty.

“When was the last time we did that?” JJ asked, turning her chair to accept a piece herself, moving forward in order to catch it in her mouth and cheering happily when she managed.

“It’s been too long.”

Once the idea was set in all of them, there was no stopping it. Soon enough the entire group was laughing and smiling as they had once before, tossing dozens of M&Ms at each other and making a bigger mess than they ever had before. Hotch wouldn’t complain though, he wouldn’t even feign annoyance like when Reid would show off his physics magic.

No, this time he’d leave his office door propped open and he’d smile, finally working on some old paperwork to the raucous sounds of his team’s joy.

GENERAL TAGLIST @samuel-de-champagne-problems @silverhetdanes @ssawonderland @reidsbookclub @katymarie @mrsobrien888 @writingquillsandpainpills @fightingdragonswithreid @lil-stark @raythefaye @stillsleepynat @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @givemeth @foxy-eva @lilibet261 @exhaleli @darkeunology @nomajdetective @meggie-m00n @delicatespencer @serenity-lattes @goldentournesol @rexorangecouny @sultrypotter @reliefplease @mente-sindescanso @jj76889 @luna-novae @folkreid @nightmarewasteland @luredwithpretzels

ONESHOT TAGLIST @natashxromanovfreads @nano-noa

[dokifluffs]

Booping His Nose | Aone, Ushijima

Pairings: Aone X Reader (gender neutral), Ushijima X Reader (female)

Genre: soft 🥺 sweet fluff

Author’s Nose: im absolutely and utterly soft for Aone and his turt 🥺 

Aran, Kenma, Atsumu // Nishinoya, Sachiro, Kuroo // Sakusa, Iwaizumi // Suna, Kageyama, Matsukawa // Tendo, Hinata, Bokuto // Yamaguchi, Osamu

gif from @rivaillerose​

Aone: 

A cool, early summer breeze blew by, making the plastic bags in your guys’ hands rustle as the two of you walked side by side, on the way toward his house

“‘Nobu, what are you gonna show me?” You asked for the nth time, though you knew you weren’t going to get an answer

“We went grocery shopping for these veggies…” you mumbled to yourself, taking a peek to refresh your memory

He held the bag with the heavier snacks that you guys would eat and share and you help the lighter bag of veggies, specifically spinach, carrots, and even a few kiwis

Was he going to make you something to eat?

He was only silent as he looked down to you, giving you a soft, silent smile as you guys turned onto the block, approaching his home

The only plans you were sure of was that you two were going to watch a movie or two tonight while and snack a bit, eat pizza

But oh well

You opened your mind, just going with the flow, not worrying much about anything as long as you spent some time with Aone

Stepping inside, you were greeted warmly by his parents before they left very shortly to head out to relative’s house

This time, he took care of the veggies and produce bag while you helped yourself to some snacks, sorting the others that you weren’t too interested in, away

You snacked, standing beside him as he washed the fruits, occasionally feeding him before he had to focus, cutting the fruits diligently but also into very small, small cube shapes

He plated them neatly, alongside the greens and that was when he took your hand

“I want you to meet someone very special.” He spoke matter of factly before he brought you to the sun room, setting the plate of veggies and fruits down before disappearing once again

But when he returned, it was like there was a sparkle in his eye, his hands holding something, though you couldn’t really see what

“Who is it?” You asked as he knelt down right beside you

“This is berry, my tortoise.” He opened his hands, revealing a small tortoise walking from his cupped hands, right toward the plate of deliciousness as fast as she could

“Oh my gosh, she’s so precious, Nobu,” you gasped as you laid lower, closer to the floor, as close as you could without startling her or anything

Aone smiled happily, seeing his two favorite beings together, finally meeting

He went through the story of how he adopted her, how he bonded with her, learned to take care of her

And now that you had gotten the chance to meet her, the three of you could grow and see her grow

Though she would be living far much longer than the two of you

You two knelt low in the sun room, watching her bite the small-cut fruit, taking mighty but tiny chops into the spinach leaves

She was just so cute but made a perfect acquaintance for him

You couldn’t even think about a movie as the two of you were much more entertained just by watching Berry eat her meal

Looking beside you to Aone, he watched her like anyone would want to be looked at by their loved on - almost like he was looking at her just like he was looking at you

With his chin resting in his hands while the two of you laid on your bellies, elbows propping yourselves up, you leaned over and pressed your finger to his nose

“Boop.”

And you knew for a long time that he never really was one to show emotions, but you had never seen his cheeks turn pink so fast while Berry walked in between the two of you

gif from @rivaillerose​

Ushijima: 

“Mm, this team was good,” Wakatoshi spoke stoically as ever as you leaned back into him, his arm draped over the back of the couch

Dinner had already been eaten and the night was very young

Though you did feel a little lethargic from how you were positioned

His abdomen providing you the perfect pillow, but his lap was even better as you laid yourself across from him

“What team?” You asked, turning to glance at the tv, suddenly seeing a closeup of hinata and kageyama

“Argentina,” he spoke stoically and that was when you remembered the game the two of you were watching

It was the pre-olympic qualifiers with the Japan team and the Argentina team, of course with Oikawa Tooru as their setter, a setter Wakatoshi highly approved of

You did your best to stifle a yawn, only for it to grow into an even bigger yawn

“Tired?” He looked down to you, resting his hand on your baby bump

“Mmhm,” you blinked slowly, bringing your hand to his, feeling his warmth

“Do you want to go upstairs? I can carry you.”

“Oh, no, no Toshi. I’m far too heavy for that but I just wanna stay here with you.” You adjusted, turning to your other side that faced the back of the couch, facing in to his stomach

It was so perfect

The couch supported your heavy belly, letting your back rest for the first time in awhile

You were right there besides your husband, able to smell his fresh body wash his hand now resting on your arm, stroking it as he continued to look down at you

“It would be no problem. I can carry you at any weight, so don’t worry,” his lips curled up a little, the tickling feeling of his thumb now on your cheek

“I wanna stay here with you,” you looked up to him, wrapping your fingers around the bottom edge of his shirt

“Alright, then.” He continued watching his game, rewatching the footage to prepare for the actual olympic games

When you first met him, Wakatoshi was even quieter, not really talking much unless asked to, and.. not slow per se, but he would have to ask about jokes as well as online trends

He was very focused on himself, doing things he knew would be the best for him and here he was

He was a lot more open with you, mostly because you two had been married and you were pregnant with your guys’ first kid

Things were for sure changing, life was changing and

You got to spend it with Wakatoshi

You further nuzzled your face into his abdomen, liking how warm it was, despite his strange it would sort of look to others if they just walked in and saw you rubbing your face into your husband’s stomach but you couldn’t help it but touch and feel him before he would be gone again and you would be alone and needy for him

He smelled so good, he was so warm

You could’ve, you wanted to fall asleep right then and there in his lap but there was something else that just didn’t want you to inside

Looking up to him, your eyes practically half open, he was so focused on the game, he had that face on, which was basically his everyday face, that you couldn’t tell what he was really thinking

But you just knew it was about the game

Reaching up, your rest your hand on his pec and shoulder, getting his attention

“Hm? Do you want to go upstairs?”

Giving him no answer, you simply reached over and pressed your finger to his nose, booping it

A look of confusion spread on his face for a moment before he did the same, slowly reaching over and awkwardly booping your nose too

You hummed, content for some reason that he had done it

“I’ll stay here with you,” you spoke softly, snaking your hand under the hem of his shirt, resting it on his lower back, a feeling he was very much used to at this point

Every touch from you, he was used to

“Alright then. Let me know when you would like to go upstairs and I will carry you, Y/N.” He ever so carefully pulled you closer, leaning to the side to pull the folded, light blanket to throw it over, draping it over your body

“M’kay,” you hummed, before finally reaching for his hand that rest on your arm, bringing it to your face so you could hold his hand, feeling him as you let yourself doze off completely

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

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[teacupcollector]

Rebel - Chapter 7

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist Summary-  (Y/N) Is a Matt Murdocks 14 year old daughter who is just entering high school and is really struggling. She doesn't have a regular life having a blind father. He can't help with homework, Can't give her a have a ride to school, He can't see how often her face falls when she lies to him. Of course she has her Uncle Foggy and Aunt Karen but (Y/N) feels like to much of a burden until the one and only Frank Castle comes into her life and seems to be more of a father figure  then Matt ever has.

Warnings: Violence, Graphic descriptions of torture, Kidnapping, Frank Castle (Cause he kills people of course)

You get home with a bag full of groceries and you let out a huff as you open the door with one hand and holding three bags on your wrist with your other arm. You push the door open with your shoulder as you relieve your wrist with balancing it as good as you can as you take one of the bags which is filled with chicken and bread crumbs. 

You plan on frying the chicken. You have fried other things before but never this big so this will be a new experience. You have a pack of A&W Root beer which comes in glass bottles which are pretty heavy. The third bag snacks you decided to by yourself as well as Oreos which you plan to fry when your dad gets home. He says he likes the sound of the oil popping and cracking as well has the smell of fried Oreos. You shut the door with your foot and back as you walk into the kitchen and lift them up to put them on the counter. You wipe your forehead and get out your phone and call your dad who is under the contact name 'Daddio'. After two rings he picks up. "Hey sweetpea! You get home safe?" Matt asks in which you respond with. "Of course dad. I never get into any trouble so keep those gray hairs off your head" Your dad laughs. "Alright then I-" He cuts himself off with a sigh. "Duty calls I have a client in the next room that I need to talk to. See you tonight alright?" Matt asks "Yeah dad I will see you tonight! I'm going to go ahead and start dinner." You say smiling. "Alright (Y/N) I love you." He says and as he exits the call you respond with an 'I love you too.'

Chicken Parmesan is harder than it looks but you would like to say that you were successful. You set two plates on the table full of the food you just made and by the time you had finished cleaning it was 7:46 PM and the sun was already going down. You were still in your dress from earlier today and haven't bothered to change because you prefer to have everything done including dinner once you have finished eating. An hour goes by and it is now 8:48 PM and you have more then just a disappointed look on your face and you decide to eat the now cold dinner that is sitting in front of you. 'Maybe he is still busy at work' You think to yourself giving him the benefit of the doubt. You get out some tuple ware to put the food in so you can walk down to give it to him. You also decided to carry two glass bottles of root beer that you both had in the fridge because you don't want to get caught by a police officer carrying beer or whatever alcoholic beverage you have in the fridge. You also brought two because you were hopping you could sit down with him as he ate at work. You put both plates in the sink once you were done eating and putting the food away. You grab a bag of yours and put the two drinks and the food you packed for your dad and then grabbed your phone and held onto it as you exit the the apartment and turn off the light. You lock the door behind you as you make your journey to the road.

Your dad would be really upset with you right now if he knew that you were out walking this late at night but its whatever. His law firm is only a few blocks away. Matt has always taught you to be cautious and aware of your surroundings which is why you keep looking back and walking as fast as you can. There are some unsavory characters out on the street corners calling out to you but you ignore them and walk faster if that is even possible. What you do know is that the flats you are wearing are rubbing against your ankles and you are definitely going to have blisters. There is sweat going down your forehead despite how cool it is in this fall weather. Once you get close to your destination you slow down to a reasonable pace and calm your breathing. You go to try for the door but for some reason it is locked. I guess that's understandable its late so you step back to look at the windows to see if any of the lights are on in which there isn't and you sigh once again.  In hope you go to try the door again when you receive a text from your Uncle Foggy saying: 'Hey squirt I wanted to let you know that Your dad, Karen, and I went out to Josie's and he wants you to hold down the fort until he gets back. So stay safe! Call if anything happens. One of us will pick up. Hope to see you soon Squirt!' This makes you angry. 'Of course he forgot about dinner he always does!' You think to yourself as you just leave Foggy on read instead of answering. You start storming back home when you stop at a garbage can next to an alleyway. It gave you creepy vibes but you didn't care. You ripped open your bag pulling out the Chicken Parmesan ready to throw it in the trash but you pause. You sigh " Dang it..." You mumble. ' I can't blame him for going out with his friends... Maybe they won a case or something and wanted to celebrate...' You let out a groan and shove it back into your backpack. 'He probably will be hungry when he gets home and hopefully I will get back before he does.' You put your bag down and slide your flats off your feet and pick up both your bag and your shoes.

As you begin to stand up straight someone grabs your (H/L) hair by the roots which makes you cry out in pain as they drag you forward and push you to the ground making you fall to your knees. You slip your hand into your bag as they approach you from behind. You grip the top of the glass bottle as they yank you by the back of your dress to stand you up. You whirl around and hit one of them on the side of the head shattering the bottle " You bitch!" the man yells out in which you realize he isn't alone. Another man comes up from behind him and lands a punch right to your temple which knocks you down to the ground as you let out another cry as your head smacks the ground. Surprisingly you are still conscious and look up at the two men who is now joined by a third. The first man that you hit with the bottle grips your hair yanking your head up as your hands go up to grasp his hands hoping for him to ease his grip and to let you go. "P-Please all I have is a phone and food." You say letting out a sob. "Shut up!" He says yanking you back then to him again " You are Murdocks kid right?" The third man asks but it sounds more like a statement.

 You stay silent as he then punches you in the diaphragm making you lose your breath and vomit your dinner on to the first mans shoes. In which the man yanks you higher into the air before slamming you down on to the ground and you let out another cry of pain. "Answer us kid! Are you Murdocks kid or not?!" The third man asks. You are to busy catching your breath to answer only to lose your breath again as he kicks you in the stomach. The first man sighs and starts speaking in another language as you try to pinpoint what it is. The second man picks up your phone that you must have dropped and turns it on. "It's his kid." He says as he shows your lock screen picture of you and your dad together. The third man smashes the phone on the ground and steps on it. After catching your breath the second time. You get up to your knees and yell as loud as you can. "HEL-" You get cut off by a kick to the stomach once again but this time you feel the bones shift inside of you. It doesn't feel broken but it hurts like hell. Suddenly your face is met with a kick to the face knocking you down. you taste blood in your mouth  and your lips feel swollen. You must have a split lip now. The man with the vomit boots places a hard booted foot on the back of your head as he shoves your face in the dirty concrete  of the alley way.

"Tie her up!" He orders the other two. You began kicking and moving your arms You hit one of them men with your foot in the shin making him grunt in pain as he straddles both your legs to hold them down while the other one grips both your arms painfully to twist them into place to tie you up. Both your arms are overlapping each other as they tie up your forearm instead of just your wrists which makes your shoulder blades push into a very uncomfortable position to where they are almost touching each other. You let out another yell to where the man holding your head down with his vomit shoes pushes down harder and moves his heel back and forth as if he is putting out a cigarette with his shoe. You forehead and nose are scraping against the concrete floor you are pretty sure that your face is bleeding more now. "Why didn't Murdock take the case?!" Vomit shoes asks as he lifts up his shoe and nudges your head to the side. "What... What case?" you whimper out. This has never happened before and you have never felt this much pain in your life. You have never felt this scared... "His recent client! Why didn't he take the case?!" He asks again. You keep trying to kick with the man on your legs and he starts punching them and you let out a cry. "I don't know! I don't know!" You cry out and he stomps on the side of your face and he does the movement again causing the right side of your face to scrape against the ground again. " P-Please stop please!" You have tears running down your face and over your nose and the salt from your tears sting as you cry. "Pick her up." Vomit shoes says and the man that tied you up picks you up by your elbows pulling you up from the floor. If you could look at yourself you would be disgusted. Your nose and forehead are bleeding which is running over your eyebrows and into your eyes making the men look like a blurry red mess your lip and mouth are bleeding as it pours out of your mouth making some of your teeth turn to a pink and almost deep red.

"Turn the video on. We might need to convince 'Nelson and Murdock' To help us since this little asshole isn't helping." The man who was sitting on your legs starts the video giving the other man a thumbs up that it started. "Mr. Murdock, Mr. Nelson..." He begins as he pushes you into frame. The other man digs into the bag they carried here and pulls out a rope and tosses it over the railing  of an escape well. " We are really upset and inconvenienced that you didn't take our friends case... and I know you know who we are talking about!" He lets out a grunt as he kicks you straight in the chest making you fall on your back so hard that you rolled over your shoulders and onto your stomach You try to get on your knees by using your head and shoulders only to have your hair yanked back "No no no no please" you sob as a rope is tied around your neck and the man pulls the rope lifting you into the air. You are gasping and flailing around. "Look at the camera Sweetpea!" Vomit shoes says with a smirk. "I hope you reconsider this case and call us back... We will be waiting" The video ends and yet you are still hanging there. 

Your face is red almost a purple color and veins are bulging out of your head. You feel like you are going to explode. The rope continues to dig into your neck as the man with the rope  ties it to a near by pipe. You are still kicking and your vision is getting spotty until a sound of a gunshot echoes in the alleyway the man who tied the rope is now dead with a bullet hole in his head. A man with a bulletproof vest with a skull painted on it enters the Alleyway. " Oh shit.. Oh shit!!" The man with the phone has just sent the video and drops the phone and begins to run only to be shot down by one in the back of the leg and then one in the head. Vomit shoes begins to back away slowly " Calm down Punisher calm down!" He bumps into you taking out a knife. You see an opportunity and quickly wrap your legs around his neck and he begins to choke and you get a little bit of breath in your burning lungs. The man stabs your legs which causes you to let a brief yelp and you let go and a bullet zooms into the mans head and he drops dead. You are stuck spinning in circles choking and gasping for air.

"Hold on kid" He says taking out a knife and cutting you down. You fall flat on your face turning your head to the side as you see the mans boots walk up. You try to get your good leg underneath you but it only moves you forward like a caterpillar as you are taking in breath as well as inhaling dirt the man crouches down removes the rope from your neck and unties you but your arms just fall by your sides and all you are doing is focusing on breathing. The man you now know as 'The Punisher' turns you over and picks you up from under your knees and shoulders carrying you bridal style. Your head lulls back and your arm falls lip hanging off of you. He readjusts to where your head is now tucked in his chest. Your vision is hazing and all you can really see is white and black of his vest as well as looking behind him at the now three dead men on the floor as well as your stuff scattered all around. "Hang on kid you got to stay awake." Is what you hear in your haze as your eyes open and close for long periods of time. You finally let your eyes rest as you come up to the entrance of an apartment complex.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Prompt/Request Idea!! I don’t really have a vision for the beginning or how it should end but I thought it was a cute idea. Harry sees the reader in one of his T-shirts for the first time. And maybe she doesn’t realize it’s a big deal like she just wanted to get out of her uncomfy clothes and grabbed the first shirt she saw and threw it on. But like Harry turns around and sees her and his world stops for a sec. lol can you tell I’m a hopeless romantic?? Also I got this idea listening to a country song (T-Shirt by Thomas Rhett) so yea that’s it!! This just popped into my head and you are one of my fave Harry writers so I figured why not.

BORROWED

a/n: hii! im sorry it took me so long to get around and write this but i was finally in the mood to write something extra fluffy so here it is! hope you'll like it!

pairing: Boyfriend!Harry X Reader

word count: 1180

masterlist

(gif is not mine)

“We can start in a bit, I just have to make a quick call to Jeff, is that alright?”

Harry keys the two of you into his house, heavy paper bags in both your hands and his as you just came back from grocery shopping. Tonight is date night, but after the long week you both had, you chose to just cook something together and then get lazy on the couch cuddled up with a good movie. It’s exactly what you need right now.

“Sure, take your time,” you smile back at him as the two of you walk into the kitchen, putting the bags to the counter. “I’ll unpack these in the meantime,” you offer, digging into the bags of goodies.

“Thank you, love,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before making his way into his study to get over with anything work related as soon as possible so he can spend his time with you.

While he is on the phone in there, you softly hum to yourself, unpacking everything you bought, leaving what you’ll need for dinner on the counter and putting away the rest. You already know your way around Harry’s kitchen, you’ve spent a fair amount of time in his home since you’ve started dating just a few months ago. At first you felt hesitant whether the timing for the two of you to give it a shot is good, both of you driving a quite busy life lately, but at last you’re glad you listened to your heart. You’ve grown to love him more and faster than you ever thought and now you can’t even imagine your everydays without him.

When you’re done with the unpacking, Harry is still on the phone so you decide to start peeling the potatoes since there’s a good amount of that, Harry has been craving fries all day so you’re making that as a side. But before you could start working, you decide to make yourself comfier. Still wearing your dress from work today, you make your way into Harry’s closet, roaming through his simple t-shirts, grabbing one for yourself as well as one of his workout shorts before you strip yourself out of the tight dress and put on his clothes, allowing you to feel so much more comfortable and relaxed.

When you’re back in the kitchen you connect your phone to the Bluetooth speakers he keeps there, putting on some soft music as you start peeling the potatoes, taking your time, not wanting to get much ahead on your own, since the whole point of the evening is to cook together, something you’ve been doing a lot since you’ve started dating. In fact, on your very first date, instead of taking you out to some expensive restaurant he chose to make home-made tacos together and it was the most perfect first date you’ve ever been on.

On the other end of the house, Harry finally finishes up his call and puts his phone on do not disturb, not wanting anyone or anything to interrupt his time with his girlfriend before he makes his way out to the kitchen. He hears the music before he sees you moving around and a smile tugs on his pink lips how you’re listening to a country song again. You’ve shared with him your recent obsession with country music lately and how you always find yourself gravitating towards this genre whenever you’re listening to music.

As Harry approaches the kitchen you finally come into his view, standing with your back facing him as you gently sway your hips to the rhythm, humming to yourself while peeling the potatoes near the sink. Stopping in his tracks, he allows himself to adorn the sight of you, especially because he can feel his heart pitter-pattering in his chest when he realizes that you’ve changed out of your dress and put on some of his clothes.

The blue shirt hands loose around your frame, the hem reaching down to your mid-thigh, the seams on your shoulders falling way past where they usually do on his body. The workout shorts are baggy on you and though the shirt is covering your hips, he can tell you rolled down the waist of the shorts so they fit you just a tad bit better.

He is in love with this sight, his beautiful girlfriend in the peace of his home, wearing his clothes, ready to spend the rest of the evening together, talking it away about anything and everything, because that’s what usually happens. He loves hearing you tell him your opinion about anything, loves to know your thoughts and feelings, loves listening to your rambling about the things that interest you lately.

He just loves you and everything about you.

It’s not the first time he is seeing you wearing his clothes, it had happened several times when you were spending the night over at his place and after some mind-blowing sex you felt more comfortable in his clothes than your own, but every time it happened before you always asked, as if you didn’t have a right to just take whatever you want from him. In his book, everything he owns is already yours as well, nothing is borrowed anymore, but you haven’t gotten past the point where you don’t ask, but now it finally happened and Harry couldn’t be happier about it. It means that you’ve settled into the thought of the two of you being a full item, equals in a happy relationship.

Harry walks up behind you, his hands sliding around your waist and under the shirt so his palm is touching your bare stomach, his fingers playfully dancing on your naked skin. You smile to yourself, melting against his chest instantly, your bodies fitting together perfectly, like two puzzle pieces.

“Hey handsome, done with everything?” you ask, turning your head to the side so your lips could meet his in a short peck.

“Yeah. I’m all yours.”

“Mmm, finally,” you chuckle playfully, a giggle escaping your lips as he tickles you a little before his arms fall from around you.

Standing next to you he leans against the counter, taking another few moments to just watch and adorn you, his arms crossed on his chest as a small, content smirk tugs on his lips. You catch his gaze, but you have no idea why he is staring at you like that and you can’t help the nervous little giggle that falls from your lips.

“What is it?” you ask, bumping your hip against his playfully.

“Nothing, I just… I really love you, that’s it,” he shrugs and you feel the warmth hugging your chest at his words.

“And I love you too.” Dropping the peeled potato from your hands you lean closer and steal a kiss, leaning against him gently as his hands find your hips. “Do you mind taking care of the veggies?” you ask, smiling against his lips.

“Sure thing,” he nods, pecking you one last time before he gets down to work as well.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[the-original-skipps]

Dear Future.

Mikey x Reader ft. Draken, Emma, Takemichy, Mitsuya, Pah-chin

Requested by @klaudia077

Word count: 1.7k

Note: Everyone in this fic is an adult. Since 12 years have passed. Plus I had to reread that chapter, Iー

Warning ⚠️ Contains heavy spoilers from the manga. Plus spelling and grammar errors.

The chime rings as you press your finger against the doorbell. You stand with Mikey hands full of groceries, you glance to your right and see Mikey standing beside you. When your eyes catch his, he gives you a small smile. You can tell he was excited.

The front door opens to reveal Emma, who was dressed casually. "Mikey!" She exclaims as he pulls the raven haired man into a hug, he smiles while returning the embrace. She pulls away from her brother and envelops you into a hug, "I'm so glad you came (Y/N)-chan...!" "Of course, it's great to see you again Emma, we brought some stuff!" You reply with a giggle slowly pulling away from her. "Come in come in!" She ushers both you and Mikey inside, before leading you to the living room.

"Yo Mikey (Y/N)."

As three of you entered the living room, you were greeted with a sight that instantly made your heart soften. There sitting on the sofa was Draken and in his arms was his beautiful daughter, Mirai. She was a small precious thing so small compared to her father's figure. Emma approaches Draken before pressing a kiss to his forehead, before cooing at her daughter. You and Mikey stand by stand enchanted by the family before you. "Wanna hold her, Mikey?" Draken's question breaks Mikey out of his trance as he blinks owlishly. "I don't know how to hold a baby, Kenchin..." Mikey replies with a bit of hesitancy in his voice.

"Go on, Uncle Mikey..." You assure Mikey with a smile encouraging him to hold his niece, as you take the plastic bags from his hands-walking to place them on the dining table. Mikey glaces at you one last time before stepping forward, you could tell he was nervous. Draken grins before gently placing the new born child into Mikey's stiff arms. "Isn't she adorable?" Draken exclaims excitedly before standing beside Mikey while Emma peers over his shoulder with a smile. "Yeah...am I holding her right?" Mikey nervously asks but was quickly assured by her parents. You could feel your heart warming and tears forming in your eyes at the sight of the four of them. How as a teenager, Mikey told you how dreamed of this day and it was finally happening. Him, Emma, Draken and their daughter together as a family. You couldn't be anymore more happy for them.

"Want to hold her too (Y/N)-chan?"

You quickly wipe away your tears as their eyes turn towards you, you nod as Emma takes her daughter from Mikey's arms before placing her within yours. You smile as you peer down at the bundle of warmth within your arms who peers up at you with curiosity. "She has your eyes, Emma-chan..." you say as you turn to look at the blonde woman, who gleams at your words. "What no, she looks more like me!" Draken intervenes as he watches his wife bleam at you with happiness.

"Nah, I definitely think she looks more like Emma. Sorry Kenchin, but you're kinda ugly."

"Mikey, why you!"

Immediately the two males start to bicker back and forth, while you and Emma coo over her daughter. Before they could start throwing the furniture around, Emma immediately glares at them and hits them both over their heads. You could watch as you sweatdrop at the scene of Emma scolding her husband and her older brother.

.

.

.

It wasn't long until Mitsuya, Takemichy and Pah-chin arrived as well. In their hands holding plastic bags full of sake and beer. You and Emma with Mirai in her arms both watch from the side as the five men reunited and greeted each other. "Oi Takemichy, why didn't you bring Hina-chan?" Draken questions before ruffling his hair.

"S-She said she has an important meeting today, but she really wanted to come!"

"Well, it looks like it'll be just the two of us girls (Y/N)-chan" Emma says with a sigh. You give her an apologetic smile, as her husband and your boyfriend seemed to completely forget about you both. "Why don't we prepare dinner?" You ask her to taking your eyes off the men before turning to meet hers. "Sure! Let me just put Mirai to sleep." She smiles before leading you to the kitchen.

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.

.

While the males were gathered around a kotatsu talking amongst themselves. You and Emma were busy in the kitchen preparing ingredients for a hotpot meant for seven people. After a while Mitsuya pops up, "need some help?" "That would be great." You reply as you were busy cutting the vegetables. Mitsuya quickly observes the kitchen, before gathering the necessary utensils for a hot pot. Once you and Emma were done preparing. Mitsuya slowly brings out all of the ingredients you prepared to the kotatsu table. Everyone sat around the kotatsu, you taking a seat beside Mikey while Emma sits beside Draken.

"Let's eat!"

The table was filled with laughter and talk as all of you converse with one another. "This is delicious!" Pah-chin explains as he takes another biteful of meat with his chopsticks. "Careful, Pah don't eat too much or else you won't fit into your tux." Mitsuya warns him as Pah takes big mouthfuls from his bowl. "I don't think he's listening..." Takemichy speaks as he too observes Pah-chin.

You smile as you place a piece of sliced meat into Mikey's bowl, he immediately bleams at you while he places a mushroom into your own bowl. "I gave you meat and you give me a mushroom, that's not a fair trade." You say as you raise your eyebrow at Mikey. "Come on, Mikey eat your vegetables!" Emma scolds her brother from across the table. "I'll eat whatever I want!" Mikey instantly replies back as he eats another piece of sliced meat with a pout on his face. You cover your mouth as laughter erupts around the table. Even as an adult Mikey still has troubles eating his vegetables.

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"Cheers!" You all shout before taking a drink from your can of beer. Once dinner was finished and put away, Draken and Mikey were quick to usher everyone to drink. You smile as you and Emma take a sip from your cans while the rest of the men try to finish their can of beer in one go. Draken was first to finish his drink, slamming his can down on the table with a yell the rest follow while Takemichy ends up being last. "Another round!" Pah-chin yells out, grabbing another can of beer. The rest of the men follow as they get engrossed into their game of who can drink the most. As the men crowd around one side of the kotatsu, you and Emma ended up sitting together on the other side.

"Men..." Emma says with a roll of her eyes as she takes another sip of her beer. You giggle agreeing to her statement. Your eyes cast over the group of ex-delinquents, as they talk excitedly about the past. Your eyes linger towards Mikey who laughs at what Mitsuya says. You couldn't help but smile as you see the light in your boyfriend's eyes. You've all come a long way, many things happened but here you all were together twelve years later.

While you and Emma talk amongst yourselves, you both notice the men getting louder by the minute, especially Mikey who was practically yelling at this point. You also noticed that Pah-chin was completely passed out under the kotatsu, snores leaving his lips. There were cans of beer littering the table and floor. The room was a complete mess so to say. As Mikey excitedly tells the story of Takemichy who got poop stuck in his hair, a sound of a baby crying interrupts him.

Oh no.

Emma immediately stands up with an empty can of beer in hand. All eyes land on her as she throws it hitting Mikey on his head and a dead silence follows. Mikey winces as he rubs the spot where the can hit.

"What was that for?!"

"You woke the baby up!"

"I did not, everyone else was being loud too!"

"Hey, don't try to pin the blame on us Mikey.." Draken says with a grin on his face.

"Who thinks it's Mikey's fault? Raise your hands!" Draken yells out as Mitsuya and Emma immediately raise their hands, while Takemichy and you reluctantly raise yours. Mouthing a quick "I'm sorry" to your boyfriend as Emma leaves the room. "Hey, you guys can't do that, I'm the leader of Toman!" Mikey points accusingly at the men in the room. "Ex-leader!" Draken exclaims with a chuckle. Then Emma appears with a frying pan in her hands as she picks up another empty can of beer. Before, with all her might hurling it towards Mikey, who managed to dodge it due to his fast reflexes. Mikey immediately stands up as he dodges another can being flung at him.

"Help me (Y/N)!"

"Sorry Mikey but you're on your own." You managed to say in between your laughter as Draken and Mitsuya laughs along with you. "Oh it's gonna start again!" Mitsuya says with a grin as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. Realizing you won't help him, Mikey turns to his Draken for help.

"Don't just sit there and laugh Kenchin!" Mikey yells out as he dodges another empty can of beer being flung at him. Only for it to hit Takemichy square in the head, looks like Takemichy might be the next to pass out. "Don't run away Mikey!" Emma yells as you, Draken and Mitsuya all laugh as eventually Emma chases Mikey around the living room with her frying pan, yells echoing throughout the house. Despite all the noise, Pah-chin remains sound asleep.

Even as twelve years passed some things never change. As Mikey runs around the living room trying to dodge empty beer cans and Emma's fury. Laughter momentarily escapes his lips while Emma huffs. He could hear the rest laughing as well, especially your sweet laughter. Mikey smiles running while Emma follows close behind, raising her fry pan in the air. This moment, this life, this future he wouldn't trade it for the world.

So this is happiness.

[airashisakura]

My last entry for @ssskmonth | Prompts used Festivals and Family

Kin

Summary: When Sasuke struggles with letting go of pain from his past, Sakura and Sarada remind him that he doesn't have to do this alone.

Rating: Mature

_

“Anata?”

Sasuke stopped dusting off the shelves and looked over in Sakura’s direction. He frowned though, seeing Sakura perched on a stool dangerously, trying to clean the cobwebs of their apartment.

“I was asking…” Sakura scrunched her face in displeasure. She hadn't realized when she had left with Sasuke on his journey that it could bring this much work.

A week ago, when they unlocked the door of their apartment, back after a year with their three-month-old daughter, they had realized making their home habitable again wasn't going to be easy. The exhaustion of their journey back to Konoha hadn’t left their souls, but the Uchiha couple prioritized cleaning over resting.

Sasuke walked over to her and steadied her wobbling stool.

“What?”

Sleep deprivation had left him cranky. He had hoped that Sarada's wailing would cease after they had moved from roads to Konoha. Although he was glad that she was more safe under a roof, it hadn’t stopped her from crying the whole night.

Sakura caught the irritation laced in his voice, and considered whether she should say what she was about to.

“Obon is in two days..." She spoke cautiously, busy with her work. "I was asking if you want to…” She trailed off again, not sure how to phrase this.

“Obon?” Sasuke looked up in her direction. He was about to ask her again, when he realized. “Obon.”

Sakura turned, facing him, and asked nervously, “Should we?”

In all these years, he had never celebrated Obon. When he was a child, he remembered his mother strictly following rituals, preparing to welcome the spirits of their clan's ancestors.

He realized that although he always carried his long gone family in his heart, he never had given any damn about the festival.

“Aah,” he agreed.

Sakura's face lit up with a wide grin, but that died off when they heard Sarada crying at the top of her lungs.

While Sasuke rushed to attend Sarada, Sakura wrestled with more dust and ended up coughing.

Although Sarada’s shrill cries bore holes in his eardrum, all the chaos of his new-formed family had settled down all the internal chaos that he had carried for years.

_

Sasuke stirred out of his slumber engulfed with warmth . Sakura's body was pressed against his back, her arm snuggly thrown around him. Sarada had been quiet after days, and he felt fully rested, refreshed after a sleep devoid of nightmares too.

The light filtering from the curtain told him it was still early, and Sakura's breaths on his neck made him want to wake her up and kiss her numb. He had lost count of the number of days he had felt her bare skin on his, slowly and passionately driving her crazy. The days and nights after Sarada’s birth went by changing diapers and trying to understand the meaning between different kinds of cries, which he hadn't quite mastered yet.

Sasuke was tempted even further when Sakura pressed her lips on his neck and murmured 'morning,' her pert nipples brushing against his muscular back. Sasuke suppressed a gasp, his twitching member, and the urge to reciprocate his wife's desire. He gently pried away from his wife's leg, and regretted it when Sakura retracted herself from him.

"Anata?" Sakura sat up with a myriad of emotions on her face — confusion, hurt and rejection.

Sasuke didn't want to make her feel like that.

"I… I'm going to visit my parents' grave."

Sakura nodded and smiled, her features relaxing.

Sasuke never thought that gulping down the guilt of neglecting his dead family could be that easy.

_

Sasuke sauntered through the path that led to his parents' grave. The place was cold and distant like his heart had been for many years. Neglected even, he mused.

He stopped when he found the stone that bore his parents' name. Uchiha Mikoto and Uchiha Fugaku — names engraved with such beauty that was ironic considering the way they had died. A surge of rage and emotions pumped through his veins in a way that he was too familiar with — it had made him a person of sins that he was still redeeming for.

He stood there unable to repress the painful memories that had seeped from his past like a poison. His surroundings reverberated with the screams and blood that painted his nightmares.

Years of redemption had seemingly healed his wounds, but the sharpness of the past always cut, and the wounds bleed as they always had.

Unable to anchor himself, he looked anywhere but his parents' name. His eyes darted across the ungrazed grass, wild flowers, and puddles formed by summer rain. Stubborn weeds creeping over his parents grave, like the past that was attached to him.

His eyes caught something. And there it is, he mused again. A small pink wildflower intertwined with weeds, facing the sun. A gentle breeze that made its petals gleam in the sunlight reminded him of Sakura's unwavering love. The love that had waited for him through his sins and redemption — love that assured him every day that he no longer was in the darkness alone — love that gave him Sarada.

He crouched down, sighing. The summer heat was getting unbearable, and beads of sweat rolled down from his forehead. This reminded he should get going. Sometimes Sarada got all fussy, and it was hard for Sakura to manage her alone. Although his heart was heavy when his eyes glided over the name of his parents again, he smiled thinking about his new family.

Sasuke traced his finger on kanji of his mother's name, dirt gathering on his finger tip. He picked up the rag that he had brought with him and scrubbed the dirt and mud from the stones. With every swipe of the rag, the images of lifeless bodies of his parents became clearer in his mind. His fingers twitched, but he did his work diligently. The dirt from his parents' name was gone now, like the blood from the wooden floor that had pooled out from his parents' bodies.

Shaking his thoughts off, he held his shirt sleeve with his teeth and rolled it upwards. He went on plucking the weeds, wishing if it was this easy to pluck away memories of his past. There was a hopeful part of him — a little part — thought that with time, the pain of his lost family would wash away, but maybe hope wasn't a thing for Uchiha Sasuke.

He bid adieu to his dead parents, and got up to leave. As he walked away, he looked back over his shoulder to get a peek of the pink flower that remained. The pink flower that had grown in his life — accepting him and his past.

_

As he reached the threshold of his house, he stiffened when he couldn’t feel the familiar chakras he was accustomed to.

He looked around and found Sakura had almost finished cleaning their house. Bookshelves no longer had cobwebs, the white sheets had been removed from the furniture, and the floor was polished.

“Sakura?”

He was answered by the empty hallways and a note. It was a note from Sakura that said she was going out for grocery shopping.

He ran fingers through his hair, sighing, and walked towards the kitchen. He decided to cook a proper lunch. They had been surviving on simple food after they had returned, courtesy of Sarada's fussiness. It amazed him sometimes how their child managed to command all their attention.

Sakura always jokingly complained that it was something Sarada definitely had inherited from him. Sakura boasted that she was a quiet infant, and her parents always backed her up. Sometimes he felt a tinge of jealousy at that.

He opened the fridge and grabbed the leftover rations that they had, and he remembered Naruto grumbling about something similar. He knew he shouldn't find that soothing, but he realized in that aspect he wasn't alone.

In fact, he wasn't alone at all anymore.

Sasuke delved into cooking, but as time ticked on, he got impatient. He decided to go out and look for them. Something made him scared that he couldn't pinpoint.

As he was going to turn the stove off, he heard the click of the door knob. He heard Sakura calling him and responded.

Relief washed through him as Sakura approached him. He had been worrying over nothing. Perhaps his heart was still as fragile as his younger self's. Too afraid to lose, yet too afraid to accept his weakness.

Sakura kept the bag of groceries, grinning widely at him before she complimented the smell of the food. He was captivated by her green eyes, but his daughter seemed to have his attention now. Sarada happily clapped her hands on seeing him and wiggled in her baby sling to reach for him.

Sasuke bent down, and Sarada reached for his cheeks and patted them with her small hands, grinning toothlessly. This was Sarada's way to embrace, Sakura had told him once. Sasuke kissed her little palm before straightening himself.

"When did you return? We were sort of feeling alone, so we decided to make a quick trip to the market. "Ne, Sarada-chan?" Sakura cooed, rubbing her nose on Sarada's head, and Sarada giggled, agreeing with her.

"But someone had more fun than she expected." Sakura tickled Sarada, and she joined her in fits of laughter.

A smile slipped past his lips, and all the heaviness that had settled in his heart from that morning began to dissipate.

"She seemed to be in a good mood," Sasuke commented, looking for something from the bag.

"Yes." Sakura hummed, sifting her fingers through Sarada's hair.

His eyes lingered on them, before he started grating ginger.

"Umm, Anata? Isn't that too much?" Sakura pointed out.

Sasuke nodded, but he added it to the pan and said, "Father always liked it this way."

Sakura blinked. She didn't know how to respond. Sasuke rarely talked about his parents, so she stood there just nodding.

The space between them stilled, with only sounds of food sizzling on the pan and Sarada's squeals.

"Father used to love the spice of ginger, so Mother used to cook like this," Sasuke explained.

"I see," Sakura replied, excitement spiking in her voice.

"Mother also added less Mirin than required," Sasuke went on, and Sakura listened raptly, watching him while he cooked Gyudon.

Sakura didn't miss the melancholy in his eyes when Sasuke said that Gyudon was his father's favourite, and it stirred Sakura's heart

Sakura knew the things which are gone always hurt, but she knew too it took time to heal them. So when Sasuke told her bits of his family, she was glad that Sasuke talked about them without any resentment — sharing his lost happiness with her. She wanted to thank him, so Sakura tiptoed, her arms wrapping around Sarada, and she pecked on Sasuke's cheek.

It was unexpected, and Sasuke stared wide-eyed at the contents in the pan, while the tips of his ears turned red.

"I'll remember this when I cook next time," Sakura blushed.

Sasuke nodded, smirking.

Sarada wiggled in her sling to reach for Sasuke again while Sakura giggled and commented on how restless she was growing.

The house, the people, and the meal he had once shared together with his parents were long gone for him, but now he saw himself in Sarada who was trying to get her father's attention like he used to. He realized time had its own way to fix things.

_

Sasuke watched the sky, summer clouds lazily drifting and strings of smoke whirling between them. The smell of smoke from the neighborhood mingled with the evening breeze, and he felt nostalgic.

His clan breathed fire, and where there was fire, there was smoke. He remembered tasting the bitterness of smoke that lingered on his tongue when his lungs had flamed out a great fireball in childhood. He’d been excited to share his experience, and Itachi had confirmed with his too gentle smile that he had felt the same way

It was a memory that had been long forgotten. Years and years of using katon jutsus and chasing his older brother for revenge had made him ignorant to these feelings that he had held precious in his childhood.

The orangish hue of the setting sun told him it was time.

It was the first day of Obon. He looked around and saw the lantern that was tied at the entrance of their house swinging with the wind along with a windchime.

The lantern will guide them home, Sakura had said when she had tied them.

He knew that too. His mother had told him during childhood while Itachi had set up the bonfire for mukaebi. He had complained that bonfires are for winters, not for summers. His mother had laughed and had corrected him.

Sasuke, this bonfire and lanterns are for the spirits of our ancestors to guide their paths back home.

He had shrugged back then, because he thought he wouldn't have to bother about this in future.

Sasuke set the twigs, and lit them using a small fireball jutsu.

He sat there, remembering that Obon during his childhood had never been so solemn. Lots of people visited during that time. He hadn’t remembered any of them, though Itachi remembered some of them. Sasuke had challenged Itachi: Just you see, nii-san, next time, I'm going to remember everyone's name. Itachi had chuckled and had flicked his forehead.

The next time hadn't ever come. Before he could add more people to his growing list of people he knew, Itachi had wiped out everyone. And then Sasuke was alone.

He realized after all these years how much he had missed his older brother. He always wanted to bury the feeling because it came with the realization that Itachi was dead because of him. Itachi was dead because of Konoha.

Itachi was dead because he wanted his otouto to live.

"Anata?"

Sasuke lifted his eyes from the flames to Sakura, who looked worried. He looked back to flames.

"Are you okay?"

Sasuke nodded. He knew they had spent enough time together for Sakura to know he wasn't alright. His eyes were fixated on flames, so he didn't notice the way Sakura's eyes softened when she sat beside him.

He didn't want to ask her, but he found himself talking anyway. "Do you think Itachi can find his way?"

For the second time in the day, Sakura blinked in confusion.

Sasuke clarified again, "He doesn't even have a grave."

For a second, Sakura felt like she couldn't breathe. She had never seen Sasuke so vulnerable before.

"This place… Konoha…" He gritted his teeth. "I- I don't know how to call Konoha my home after what they did to my clan… to Itachi."

"I can't," He said, his voice louder and filled with accusation.

But as soon as these two words left his mouth, his eyes widened in the realization of what he had done. He shut his eyes and apologized to Sakura.

He felt Sakura's palm on his left cheek. It reminded him of his daughter's gentle touch — that they were his home.

Sakura smiled when his mismatched eyes met her green, and spoke softly, "Hate it till you can love it back, Sasuke-kun."

_

Sasuke swallowed the soft moan that fell out of Sakura's plump lips before he moved down on her neck, leaving a trail of kisses. When their house turned silent from Sarada's cries, they both sought comfort in their bed, limbs tangled innocently. Sasuke was comfortable enough now to delve into his wife's gentle touches. Gentle touches soon turned greedy when he kissed her the way he had wanted to that morning. It wasn't too long before their clothes were scattered across the polished wood of the floor.

He nipped her neck, eliciting a whimper and a delicious clench of her walls around his pulsing cock. He groaned and pushed deeper into her wet velvety cunt. The air from the ceiling fan cooled their sweating bodies, but the heat where they were intimately joined made both their spines tingle.

Sasuke leaned down to capture her lips again, and Sakura reciprocated wantonly meeting with his thrust. They gasped for air when they parted, saliva smeared across the corners of their lips. Sasuke held his gaze with hers, which was always soft, assuring, and accepting. Like a wanderer on a cold night regarded the flames that kept him warm, Sasuke tried to emanate his gratitude for her through his mismatched eyes.

He inched deeper, relishing the warmth of her skin. Sakura's lips parted in a silent cry when he hit the spot that he knew made Sakura come undone. Their rhythm became more erratic, and the heaving and slapping of wet skin was driving Sasuke to his own finish.

Sasuke angled his hips and thrust roughly. Sakura shuddered, her nails digging deep in his bare shoulder. He closed his eyes, focussing on the pleasure unknoting in his belly, he pushed roughly again, and felt—

Sarada's whimpers reached their ears. His eyes snapped open reflexively like he was waking in the midst of a nightmare, and Sakura's grip loosened on him. Sakura winced as he reluctantly pulled out of her. He wasn't sure if it was because Sarada's cries intensified, or if it was because they’d been interrupted.

She smiled weakly and slid out of bed. Sasuke huffed and dropped onto the bed, watching Sakura hurriedly putting his shirt to cover her curves.

When he made his way towards them, Sakura was pacing along the room, cradling Sarada in her arms trying to calm her down.

"I fed her, changed her diapers, and still she is crying," Sakura said, expression etched with worry and irritation. Sarada shrieked louder, and Sakura's patience was waning thin.

Sasuke stretched his arm towards her, and Sakura handed the baby over. When he took her in his arm, rocked her and carefully nuzzled his nose on her forehead, she stopped crying. Somehow, it felt strange yet so good that someone needed him.

He was sure Sakura was red with envy and embarrassment when she mumbled something and walked away. He couldn't help himself but let out a chuckle, and Sakura turned and laughed too.

_

Konoha's streets were overflowing with families, people enjoying and dancing around the yagura stage to the beats of Taiko drums on the second day of Obon.

"Ino and I always loved dancing to this rhythm."

Sasuke didn't remember anything from his genin days. Maybe Sakura had told him back then, but he never paid attention to it like the other things he had missed while chasing blindly after revenge. This festival, this tradition, and Sakura were always there, and he had always been a piece out of the puzzle.

But Sarada with all her charm had made him fit in the puzzle. And now he and Sakura sat on the engawa, basking in the comfortable silence that they shared while the sound of Taiko drums reverberated with his heart beats.

Sakura held Sarada close to her body. He smiled, eyes falling on the Uchiha fan on her little back.

"I sprained my ankle the previous year. It was all stupid Ino's fault."

Sakura went on telling him about her Obon experiences while his eyes lingered on the swell of her chest, the bindings tugged down for Sarada to suckle. Sarada fed herself without any complaints, her little fingers clutching on folds of the beautiful green yukata Sakura was wearing.

The beautiful cherry blossom print on her green yukata accentuated her beauty, but it was the Uchiha crest that she sewed on her yukata in the afternoon that accentuated her beauty.

Sasuke's eyes trailed upwards to her exposed skin, and he noticed the hitch in her breath when his eyes stayed on the purplish mark he had given her the night before. They locked eyes, trapping her green with his mismatched ones.

Sakura blushed furiously under his gaze. Sasuke smirked and asked, "Want to go to the festival?"

_

The sound of heavy breathing disturbed the silence, as both of them came down from their high, basking in the afterglow. A sheen of sweat covered them like velvet, limbs entangled and limp. Sakura's yukata lay crumpled between their bodies, tugged upwards and sideways unceremoniously.

Sasuke had committed to memory the way her pink hair seamlessly smudged with the green of her yukata when he had pushed inside her from behind, losing himself to pleasure. His fingers lightly traced her pink nipples, and Sakura gasped.

She turned her head back, and Sasuke pulled her closer to his body, his palm now resting over her beating heart. Sakura smiled, and Sasuke realized there were so many colours that adorned his life now — the red of her lips, the pink of her hair, the green of her eyes, and that mirthful smile.

His heart skipped a beat when he felt Sakura's heart dancing under his palm, synchronising with his. Their lips found their way to each other, the uchiwa on the Sakura's garment silently observing their love.

_

A wisp of smoke rose into the air while twigs in the bonfire crumbled down to ashes. Sasuke sat in front of the extinguished bonfire, looking above at the dark sky.

The moon hid behind the clouds and stars twinkled, trying hard to compensate for the overcast skies. A breeze touching his skin gave him a familiar feeling. He had spent more time under open skies wandering than under a roof with a family. However, tonight he felt the same heaviness that he had carried for a long time.

After they had dinner, Sakura had reminded him that it was the last day of Obon. Reluctantly, he had lit the okokuri-bi — the bonfire that sent the spirits back to their resting place. Maybe he didn't want to part with his dead family. Maybe holding on to the illusion where his father, mother and brother were with him was easier.

The breeze swept the hair that covered his eyes, his mismatched orbs growing wet. It wasn’t because of anger anymore, though. It just hurt. He clutched at his chest, fingers digging into his shirt, trying to soothe the pain that was there. An invisible pain that he only owned — that Sakura and Sarada couldn't replace.

"Sara-chan, did you like it?"

Sasuke snapped out of his thoughts as Sakura approached him. Sarada fiddled with a toy that Sakura bought recently for her. Sarada cooed in excitement, and Sakura giggled.

When she reached closer to him, Sakura stretched out her hand towards him. Words were not their way, and Sakura smiled gently, coaxing him to take her hand.

And Sasuke did.

Because there were things Sakura and Sarada couldn't replace, but he could relive and recreate memories with them. Severing bonds would never ease his pain, he knew now; instead, new bonds would help him embrace the old ones.

They were there for him — he wasn't alone, and he didn't need to do this on his own.

_

FFN | AO3

Obon is a Japanese custom to honor the spirits of one's ancestors. This custom involves a family reunion holiday during which people return to ancestral family places and visit and clean their ancestors' graves when the spirits of ancestors are supposed to revisit the household altars. It has been celebrated in Japan for more than 500 years and traditionally includes a dance, known as Bon Odori.

Credits: Inspired from Warm by @catflorist . For those who haven't read, please read this wonderful piece.

Thanks to @fm-white for telling me more about rituals of Obon.

Thanks for @fictionalquacker's headcanon that Fugaku loves beef, which helped me making an assumption that it could be Gyudon. Also thanks to lovely @birkastan2018 for giving some tips about cooking Gyudon 💪. A big thanks to @theredconversegirl for naming my fic 🥺. Believe me, I would be forever grateful to you for this❤️

Thanks to @something-like-air for beta-ing this. 🤗

Last but not the least, @thatsakurastan :") with her constant support and nagging, I was able to complete and post this fic. You deserve big slabs of chocolate!🍫🍫🍫

[samwilsonshandsandass]

Don’t decline too many times

Pairing: soft!dark!Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: The local gang leader is always nice to you. But is there an ulterior motive behind it all for his niceness?

Warnings: Alcohol consumption (voluntarily), asks about pregnancy, abduction

Word count: about 3000

A/N: This is my entry for @stargazingfangirl18​ Siri’s 5K Soft Dark Challenge. A big congrats on your milestone and thank you for hosting this challenge, I enjoyed writing for it! I chose general prompt number 5 (“The leader of the local gang doesn’t like it when you tell them no.”) for this. The dividers are made by the awesome @firefly-graphics​

You sat at the bar, a small bowl with olives and peanuts in front of you. You had asked for a caipirinha and shortly after if the bartender, a female redhead, could get you some snacks. She said she could, but she also cautiously probed if you were pregnant. No, you weren’t.

“Well then, I can offer you olives and peanuts.”

You nodded, and now the quite unusual combination of a fruity and sweet drink and olives and peanuts found a home in you. You had your elbows propped up on the bar, back straight and eyes on the bar top. The bowls with the snacks were gone quicker than the drink and the bartender kept both coming. Eating way quicker than drinking helped with that, apparently.

You didn’t know what number drink you were on when you were approached the first time that evening. Although night would be a better term.

“Miss? I- uh- I’d wanted to ask-“ The guy who now sat on the stool next to you stumbled over his words, but not because of alcohol in his system. He didn’t slur, he talked normally.

You saw a tattooed hand clasp the guys’ shoulder. “I don’t think you’re in the right place, buddy. Leave the lady alone.”

“Why would I-“ The guy turned to look at whoever had his hand on his shoulder. “Oh! I’m so sorry, Mr.-“

“Yeah, yeah, I imagine you are. But you’ll be even more sorry if you don’t move now” The other growled and the guy got up so quickly, he almost face planted away from the bar.

“Uhm, thank you? You know, you didn’t have to, he wasn’t bothering me. I could’ve dealt with him” You said to the brown-haired man.

“I know. But this isn’t what this is about.”

“Then what is ‘this’ about?” You were a little irritated.

“You’ll see. Enjoy your night, miss” He gave a small salute and went back into the crowd. You tried looking where he went but quickly lost him, although the bar wasn’t as packed as it could be.

Steve looked over the bar patrons from the mezzanine level of the bar, that housed his private booth that could be seen, and was supposed to be seen, from below but no one ever found the staircase until they were explicitly shown where it was.

His night was going nice, no big problems in the last days, the bar was filled and his new favorite person had just walked in. Alone. She made a beeline for the bar and after a short conversation, got what she wanted from Natasha. She didn’t move much throughout the night and he was happy to just watch her.

Steve sipped on his own drink. He wondered what she drank. He’d have to ask Natasha for that. He took another sip and swallowed harshly. Someone sat next to what would be his. Normally, he’d be lenient with that, especially if the bar was packed almost too full but for one thing, it wasn’t. Secondly, you didn’t seem to want any company tonight. Just to be left alone and drink.

“Buck?” Steve looked up.

“On it.”

A few days later, you were out grocery shopping after work. It had been a long day, full of demands you couldn’t meet or weren’t even supposed to fulfill because they didn’t fall into your department. And right as you could finally leave for the day, your boyfriend Chad had called to let you know he came home to an empty fridge and if you couldn’t pick up some fresh vegetables. But only from that one organic store. And only the freshest produce of the freshest.

How were you supposed to get literal farm-to-table produce when the delivery truck for that particular store only came twice a week and only ever in the morning? You asked and just got an exasperated sigh from Chad. So here you were, paying for the groceries and leaving the store.

You stepped out of the store and almost collided with someone. The person just kept on walking, apparently not even noticing how you wobbled and the bags in your hands almost slipped out of your grasp. Just as you thought everything would tumble and you’d have wasted that money, you felt hands on your elbows, steadying you.

“I got you, don’t worry.”

You didn’t recognize the voice. You turned around and did a double take. You looked up at Steve Rogers, the leader of the city’s gang, just known as “The Commando”.

“Th- thank you. It wouldn’t have been good if I had spilled all this.”

“What would you have spilled?”

“Fresh vegetables for tonight’s dinner.”

“All that just for you?” Steve seemed genuinely curious and confused.

“Oh no. For me and my boyfriend, Chad.”

Steve took the bags from your hands without asking. “Mind if I walk you home? It’s late and these bags look really heavy and that’s not even touching your normal bag.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not, I’m offering.”

“Thank you, but it’s not far, it really isn’t necessary” You declined.

“Alright, well have a nice evening, miss” Steve raised his fingertips to his non-existent hat.

“You too, thanks.”

Several weeks later, you laid on the couch with Chad with some mindless trash tv show playing in the background. He had his arm around you. You looked at him. He didn’t look back at you, but maybe he was just captivated by watching something that didn’t require much thinking after a long work day. Well, you wanted to do something that also didn’t require much thinking. You started kissing up and down his neck until he turned his head.

“What are you doing Y/N?”

“What does it look like?” You grinned.

“I’m too tired right now. Tomorrow?” Chad groaned.

You removed yourself from him and sat up again. “You’ve said that for weeks now! I also have needs and I don’t want to use my vibrator all the time. I want you.”

“Well, I can’t change how tired I am!” He raised his voice, despite or because of his tiredness, you didn’t know.

Shortly after, you went to bed. Unsatisfied and feeling like you had been shunned.

Just a few days later, you were frantically searching for a clean and decent shirt you could wear to work. You really couldn’t show up to work in a graphic tee shirt.

“Chad, where are my clean shirts?” You yelled through the appartement.

“In your wardrobe?! Like always?” He yelled back.

“No, they aren’t! Didn’t you do the laundry?”

“No, why would I?”

“Because it was your turn!”

“Well, I forgot. I’m sorry, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, always sorry” You grumbled so he couldn’t hear and pulled a unicolor long sleeve shirt from the wardrobe. That would have to do.

It was a Saturday and you were in the mall, trying on clothes, maybe you’d buy some shoes. You wanted to treat yourself. Chad was gone for the weekend and you’d had a stressful week at work. You had found so many things you were packed with two or three bags in each hand plus your handbag over your shoulder. This had been an extensive haul and you couldn’t be more happy about your new treasures.

You carried several bags to the entrance to then get on home when you saw the revolving door wasn’t working. You groaned. Awesome. When you entered the mall, they had still worked and of course, today had to be the time you also bought something voluminous that you couldn’t just transfer from one hand to the other to open the door that was still working. While you thought about setting half the bags down and just walking twice or holding the door open with your foot, someone from behind you reached around you and opened it for you.

“Oh. Thank you!” You turned around and saw a familiar face. Steve Rogers.

“You’re welcome.”

He tipped his imaginary hat when you and all your bags were through the door. You turned and could see him still hold open the door with an older lady thanking the “Young man” and walking off.

“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” He offered.

“No, thanks I got it from here.”

Steve tipped his “hat” again and said his goodbye when you went in the direction of the parking lot.

You had reservations at a nice Mexican restaurant with Chad for this Friday evening. There was nothing to celebrate, you had just agreed to go out again, because you could. You were excited for it, an evening with good food, talking, no needing to take care of anything except getting home and a nice evening and then a lazy weekend until the work week started again. Now it was Thursday.

“Chad? Friday is still happening?” You sat at the breakfast table and Chad poured himself a coffee.

“Yeah. Work shouldn’t keep me longer than expected.”

“Alright, we’ll just meet at the restaurant, then.”

Friday came, work went down without any incident and you went straight to the restaurant. Granted, you were a little early, but you’d rather be early than late, which would have been the case if you had gone home beforehand.

“Excuse me? I have a reservation for Y/L/N, for two people. I know I’m a little early, but I thought maybe…” You trailed off.

“My colleague will show you to your table, you can already take a seat and wait for your company. I’ll send them over once they arrive” The receptionist said.

“Thank you” You smiled and followed her colleague.

At the table, you texted your boyfriend. Just a simple “I’m here a little early.” After the waiter brought a water, your phone still didn’t ping with a text. Twenty minutes later, you sent a second text. “Hey, you coming? Our reservation is for this time.” Now would’ve been the time your table was reserved for. No answer. 15 minutes and another text later, there still was no answer.

“Miss, do you want to order an appetizer or wait for your company?”

“I’ll wait for him, if that’s okay.”

“Yes, of course.”

Thirty minutes, another text and another visit from your waiter later, there still was no sign of Chad. Just as you felt tears of rage pricking your eyes, your waiter set a dish of panna cotta with fruits on the side in front of you.

“On the house.”

You smiled gratefully. At least panna cotta would soothe some of the rage you felt.

At home, there was no sign of Chad. You went to bed alone, feeling a storm of different emotions ranging from anger to sadness.

You woke to clanging in the hallway. It sounded like a person stumbling, trying to get back up and failing. That could only be Chad. Especially at this hour. You remembered once, pretty early on in your relationship how he had stumbled in just like this after a night out with his boys when you didn’t want to come with. You had helped him sober up and then you both had spent a nice day in with Chad nursing his hangover.

But this was different. This was your boyfriend, first blatantly ignoring or forgetting your date night (you didn’t know which would be worse), no matter if it went along with a special date or not, and now he didn’t even hide what he had been doing instead.

“Hey babe? Can you- can you help me?” He slurred.

And in that moment, you snapped. Still sitting in bed. You couldn’t do this anymore.

In the hallway, you saw Chad entangled in your and his winter coat. However he managed that.

“No. No, I will not do that” You crossed your arms and looked down at him. “I’m done. This is the last straw.”

“What happened babe?” The confusion was evident on Chad’s face but you couldn’t see if it was from the hangover or just general confusion. And either way, you didn’t care.

“Several things. Over quite some time. But this, this takes the cake. We had a date. We wanted to meet after work at this restaurant we’ve talked about. And you didn’t show up! You didn’t answer any of my texts! It got so bad, the staff there gave me a free dessert! It was humiliating! And don’t you dare tell me you lost your phone; you’re glued to it!” You shook from your anger.

“But you got free dessert!”

How could anyone miss the point so badly? You wondered.

“Go. Go and only come back to get your stuff. Otherwise, just leave me alone.”

You threw on clothes quickly, grabbed your keys, bag and purse and left. Down on the street, you just started to wander around aimlessly. You ducked into a bakery for a to-go breakfast and coffee, you went to the park, to a hole in the wall pizza joint for lunch, just meandering through the city.

Now it was evening. You looked up to actually see where you were and were surprised to see you had walked all the way from the park you had been in during the afternoon to the bar of the city’s main gang.

You remembered all kinds of rumors and stories about the gang, sometimes just about one or two members, even if the story didn’t tie directly in with the gang. But no matter the stories or rumors, they all boiled down to “They’re dangerous, stay away from them and their localities!”.

But the first time you had been in the bar, everything was nice, it had seemed cozy and like you were welcomed even if no one knew you. Hell, the bar lady had asked you if you were pregnant, like she wanted to protect you! And Steve, the actual leader of the gang, had been nothing but nice to you. Offering to help you and still not inserting himself forcefully into situations when you said no.

You entered and looked around. For a bar, it was pretty early and you only saw a few patrons. You went to take a seat at the bar again and greeted the red head with a smile. She smiled back and continued cleaning the glasses. A while later, she got to you.

“Caipirinha, olives and peanuts again? Still not pregnant?”

“Yes and no. And how do you remember what I ordered? That was weeks ago!”

“I’m a barkeeper. Simple as that” She smiled.

“Uh, could you keep them coming? At least for a while?”

“Something happened?”

“I broke up with my boyfriend today. Then wandered around and now I’m here” You shrugged.

“Alright. But I reserve the right to cut you off when I think you had enough.”

“Okay. But you won’t cut off the olives and peanuts?”

She laughed, throwing her head back. “Yes, I’ll keep giving you food.”

You smiled for the first time today. “Deal.”

The rest of the evening went by in a more or less haze of snacks, alcohol and the mix of hurt at your ended relationship but also the rage when you thought of what kind of behaviors of Chad made you end it all.

The barkeeper didn’t cut you off, which probably was related to you basically inhaling olives and peanuts. Hours later, you paid, slipped the redhead a big tip and a big smile and made to get home.

Almost right at the exit, you were stopped when you felt a hand on your elbow. You turned your head to tell whoever touched you off, but slight confusion furrowed your brows. Wasn’t that the guy from when you had been here weeks ago who kept that other guy from (probably) asking you out?

“Can I help you?” You asked.

“Actually, you can. Indirectly at least.”

“What?”

“I’m here to ask you if you’d like to come with me to up there” He nodded his head to the mezzanine level. “to meet someone.” He emphasized the ‘someone’ in a way that made it clear that ‘someone’ was special. In one way or another.

“Why would I?”

“To experience something, you wouldn’t otherwise.”

“No, thank you” You weren’t in the mood for something new. You wanted to mourn and rage at what you left behind and burrow yourself under blankets with pints of ice cream at home.

“Alright. Have a good evening, miss” He tipped his head and went off into the direction of, supposedly, the stairs to the mezzanine level.

You went home. You were surprised to see Chad had actually gotten his stuff out of your appartement. At least one pleasant thing had come out of the morning, in a twisted way. In the living room, you did exactly what you wanted to do. Eating all the ice cream you had in the freezer and basically becoming a blanket burrito.

When you woke, you felt blankets around you and a softly pulsing headache behind your forehead. You opened your eyes and blinked. And blinked. You turned your head. And blinked again. Slowly realization trickled in. Something wasn’t right. You weren’t where you were when you’d went to sleep.

Whatever you laid on was soft and big. You could turn your whole body and roll around. You could move and you could orientate yourself in your body. You looked down and saw you were still in the clothes you had worn to the bar. Right, you didn’t put on pajamas before going to sleep.

Just as you sat up on the bed, you heard a door open. You turned your head and couldn’t believe your eyes.

“Steve?!”

“Just the one.”

“Why?”

“I just want to take care of you. Is that so hard to understand?”

[v4mptsuki]

flirtations (i.matsukawa x reader)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

summary: matsukawa is crushing on the reader, and he’s oblivious to her feelings for him despite her being oikawa’s childhood best friend

a/n, this isn’t proofread, so i apologize if there’s any typos!

mattsun felt a headache coming on. for the past half hour of the third year's hangout, oikawa had been unable to shut up about l/n y/n. as the group of boys roamed the streets, coffee cups in hand, oikawa went on his fiftieth rant of the day about her.

"isn't she just the sweetest iwa-chan? remember when she helped us practice last summer; she's so helpful. we should invite y/n-chan the next time we hangout. would you like that mattsu?" oikawa asked with a smirk.

mattsun rolled his eyes, "would that shut you up about her?"

oikawa tsked and took a sip of his drink, "now, now mattsu don't get all riled up. i'm just complimenting a friend."

"friend, right," mattsun muttered sarcastically.

y/n had known oikawa for years; ever since they were kids. oikawa's mom went to school with y/n's family, so the two kids had grown up together. mattsun knew it was only a matter of time until they ended up dating, and he hated how upset it made him. he'd been harboring feelings for y/n since their first year at aoba johsai, and they hadn't faded at all.

two knocks echoed through the matsukawa house, and mattsun could hear his mom answering the door. he'd been bed bound since he came down with a cold that morning, and he felt miserable.

"oh yes! he's in his room, i'm sure he'll be glad to see you!" his mom said to whoever was at the door.

mattsun expected makki to be the one entering his room, probably with his schoolwork and questions of where he'd been. instead, it was y/n, oikawa's friend. he had several classes with her, which was why oikawa introduced them. y/n was anxious about high school, since most of her junior high friends went elsewhere, so oikawa thought it would be good for her to know someone.

the two had grown to be good friends through all their shared classes, and mattsun really enjoyed her company. she was really kind, but she teased oikawa just as much as iwaizumi did. she was also smart, and she always helped mattsun with his work when he got lost in class. so, it shouldn't have shocked him that much to see y/n standing in his doorway with his homework in her arms.

the surprising part though, was that she'd brought him food too. she had a grocery sack from the corner store in one hand, and it seemed to be full of snacks. in her other hand, she had not only the homework, but her notes from the day too.

"hi, i heard you're sick," y/n greeted, still standing in the doorway, like she was waiting for permission to walk in.

mattsun smiled at her, "yeah, c'mon in."

y/n took a seat on the edge of his bed, and mattsun scooted his legs a bit so she would have more room.

"i brought the homework, and i thought you might like to have my notes. i took two copies, so you can keep these. i always get stressed when i miss school, because i hate falling behind, so i hope this helps you rest easier," y/n stated, a small smile on her face.

mattsun swore that in that moment he could feel himself falling for her. he'd thought she was pretty from the moment he laid eyes on her, and ever since oikawa introduced them, he'd grown fond of her personality too. it was then though, that he truly fell. the nonchalant way she cared about him, like it was nothing but the expected, made mattsun so incredibly happy.

"oh! i also brought you this," y/n added excitedly, placing the grocery bag gently on the bed.

mattsun sat up a bit, and y/n handed him the bag. inside was all his favorites. his favorite chips, candy, drink, and a carefully packaged cup of soup. the soup was even still warm, letting mattsun know she'd grabbed it on her way to his house.

"how did you know these are my favorites?" mattsun asked as he looked up at her, his eyes wide with delight.

"i asked oikawa. he said he asked your friend makki," y/n replied, clearly proud of herself for being so attentive.

"this is like the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me. thank you y/n," mattsun said, making y/n duck her head bashfully.

"oh quit it, you're sick, i'm just helping it be less awful. anyways, do you want me to go over the notes with you? if you're tired i can go, but i just thought i'd offer," y/n said, trailing off near the end.

mattsun nodded quickly, a bit too eager to get her to stay.

"we can go over the notes! it'll probably, um, help me learn it better."

ever since that day, mattsun had been hopelessly devoted to her. every love confession that had come his way he'd denied, holding out hope that maybe, just maybe, y/n could like him back. oikawa had never helped his pining though. as the group of them had gotten older, oikawa had grown into a flirt, with y/n being his primary target. every day at practice, it was incessant, and it drove mattsun mad.

"this one's for you y/n-chan!" oikawa exclaimed with a wink in her direction before he served the ball flawlessly to the other side of the court during a mock game.

mattsun could hear y/n's laugh at his antics, and it just made him more sullen. as the day's practice wrapped up, y/n was quick to rush over to the boys.

"that was great guys. you really are improving a lot," she said with a bright smile.

"thank you! you're our number one cheerleader y/n," makki teased, throwing an arm over her shoulders and ruffling her hair.

y/n ducked out of his grasp and patted her hair down with a dramatic scowl.

"hands off my hair makki! that's why mattsu is my favorite," she teased, poking her tongue out before leaning into mattsun's side.

"you played great today too," she said, her voice lower, like the comment was just for him.

mattsun felt himself stiffen, suddenly unable to think of anything clever to say.

"oh, uh, thank you."

"y/n-chan!" oikawa called out as he exited the locker room, already changed out of his gym clothes.

y/n giggled, "see you around mattsu," she said before walking over to greet oikawa.

makki whistled once y/n had walked far off enough, and he clapped his friend on the shoulder.

"pussy," was all he said to mattsun, who just sighed.

"up your ass makki."

"toru i'm an idiot!" y/n exclaimed, flopping back on her best friend's bed.

he just laughed, and took a seat next to her.

"what else is new?"

y/n huffed and leaned over to shove him.

"not helping asshole."

"sorry, sorry, it's just hilarious how oblivious he is," oikawa said.

y/n nodded in agreement, and moved her head to rest in oikawa's lap.

"it's awful isn't it? i just don't know what to do. i try to talk to him, but he always seems pained to be around me. promise he doesn't hate me?" y/n asked, looking up at her friend.

"how could he hate you? precious little y/n-chan," oikawa teased, reaching down to pinch her cheeks.

she grumbled again and swatted his hand away.

"how do i get him to confess?" she wondered aloud.

"what if we made him jealous," oikawa suggested with a sly smirk.

y/n pursed her lips in thought, before an equally sly smile spread on her face. mattsun always did seem particularly irritated by her and oikawa's antics. besides, a jealous confession did sound pretty appealing to y/n.

"i'm down if you are toru," y/n said.

"perfect! so what will our story be? should i tell the boys you broke down in tears as you confessed your love for me?"

y/n grimaced, "absolutely not. i still want him to know i'm single dumbass. maybe just amp up the flirting tomorrow, and i'll dress extra cute."

"looking forward to it darling," oikawa said with a wink, making y/n roll her eyes.

the next day at practice, oikawa was insufferable. if his normal flirtations were a 7/10 on the mattsun-annoyance scale, this had raised it to at least an 11/10. y/n had entered practice in her cutest variant of the school uniform, and oikawa was quick to offer her his sweatshirt. he even helped her put it on, making mattsun glare at the pair from across the gym.

y/n sat on the bench close to the court, and oikawa shot a flirty remark at her after every cool move he pulled. every time he did, y/n would giggle and blush, and it made mattsun want to rip his hair out.

"my head is literally going to explode," he muttered to makki during a water break, with a scowl heavy on his face.

makki stifled a laugh, "just make a move already."

mattsun's scowl deepened, "no way. she's totally head over heels for oikawa. see, look."

he gestured over to the pair, where oikawa had joined y/n on the bench. he had an arm draped over her shoulder, and their heads were leaned into each other as they spoke in hushed voices. y/n glanced up, and her eyes met mattsun's, but he was quick to look away.

"did you see that, he was looking at us," y/n whispered to oikawa, a grin on her face.

"he's totally pissed," oikawa added excitedly.

y/n giggled, "this might actually work!"

oikawa got up and restarted practice, and a very sullen mattsun walked back onto the court. y/n kept her gaze trained on him as he walked, unable to look away from the way the jersey hugged his muscles. he glanced back, and their eyes met again, but this time y/n was the first to look away, a blush rising on her face.

practice continued on, with oikawa flirting with y/n every other minute. mattsun just seemed to get more and more irritated, and then, practice ended. oikawa headed straight to the locker room, as he always did. he'd always hated the sweaty feeling after practice, so y/n would normally just wait for him to change so they could go. today though, y/n asked oikawa to shower there too, so she would have more time to talk to mattsun without him around making mattsun jealous.

"hi guys! you all did great today," y/n greeted as she walked over to the three third years.

iwa smiled at y/n in thanks, "yeah, we're improving a lot."

"totally! especially you mattsu, you looked great out there today," y/n said with a smile.

mattsun seemed to tense up, and y/n mentally cursed herself. all she wanted to do was let him know she liked him, but every time she did he always seemed to get so uncomfortable.

"thank you y/n," he replied with an awkward smile, making y/n's heart drop.

"yeah, of course," she said with her own small smile.

there was a moment of silence before iwa bid everyone goodbye. most of the other years had left, leaving just y/n, mattsun, makki, and oikawa in the locker room.

"i think i'm gonna head out too, bye guys!" makki said, hurrying out of the room before mattsun could say anything to him.

y/n pursed her lips at that, since usually the two walked home together.

"waiting for oikawa?" mattsun asked y/n once makki was out the door.

"i guess. i also kinda wanted to talk to you," she added, her voice growing quiet.

mattsun's eyes widened and his gaze shot up to look at her.

"what?"

"yeah, i uh, wanted to chat with you. you know, i really like your company," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

mattsun didn't say anything back, he just stared at y/n with wide eyes. she felt a lump in her throat, but she bit back any emotions.

"sorry, i didn't mean to make this weird or anything," she added quickly.

mattsun blinked slowly, and then shook his head forcefully.

"no, no, not at all. i like spending time with you too. i just, i thought you and oikawa were like..." he trailed off, not wanting to say it out loud, but hoping y/n understood what he meant.

apparently she didn't, as her eyebrows scrunched up, "huh? what about me and toru?"

"nothing, i just..." mattsun took in a breath and shook his head, "nothing, never mind."

y/n frowned, but took a step closer to mattsun.

"what is it?" she asked, concern in her voice.

"i-"

mattsun wasn't sure what to say. y/n was standing barely a few inches away from him, and he was struggling to form a coherent thought. she tilted her head up to look him in the eyes, and he felt his face growing hot.

"you know i'm not dating toru," she said, her voice soft.

mattsun swallowed, "oh, really? i guess i just assumed..."

"well you assumed wrong," y/n replied, keeping her eyes on mattsun.

"oh," was all he could think to say, his mind too muddled for y/n's closeness.

she stayed there for a second longer, before she cleared her throat and took a step away.

"well yeah, we aren't dating. i don't plan on dating him either, he's too high maintenance for me," y/n joked, although she sounded a bit down.

mattsun just nodded, unsure of what to say. inside, he was beating himself up. she was right there, but he just couldn't do anything. she made him so nervous he lost all his confidence. it was basically torture, being so close to her, but unable to make a move.

"anyways, i think toru should be done by now. i guess i'll just wait for him outside," y/n flashed mattsun a small smile before swiftly heading for the gym doors.

"wait!" mattsun exclaimed before he could think better of it.

y/n turned around, her eyebrows raised.

"what's up?"

"um, fuck, don't go yet. i guess now's a good time to tell you i, uh, i really like you."

once mattsun started his confession, he couldn't stop the word vomit that followed.

"ever since you brought me the notes when i was sick during first year, i thought you were the nicest girl ever. i still do, by the way, you're just so sweet and pretty, and fuck i'm rambling. i just, i like you a lot, and i thought you should know. i guess."

mattsun felt his face heating up as he awkwardly went to scratch the back of his neck. y/n just stood there, a shocked look on her face. mattsun was just about to stutter out an apology for making things weird, when she rushed forwards. her arms wrapped around mattsun's neck, and she let out a relieved laugh.

"oh thank goodness! i was so worried you didn't like me that way, it was killing me you idiot!" y/n breathed out, her face pressing into mattsun's neck.

"wait what?" mattsun replied, pulling away from her embrace.

she moved one of her arms to flick his forehead, a grin taking over her face.

"i like you too!" she exclaimed.

mattsun broke into a grin of his own, and just as he was about to pull y/n back into him, oikawa exited the locker room. his hair was dripping wet, implying he'd taken a shower, and mattsun could've smacked him across the face.

"toru guess what!" y/n called out as oikawa headed over to the pair.

based on oikawa's smirk, he already knew what she was going to say.

"what is it y/n darling?"

"he likes me back," she replied smugly, stretching on her tip toes to kiss mattsun's cheek.

"yes i do," mattsun muttered, just for y/n to hear, making her smile stretch even wider.