#and its awkward for a bit but they do finally have a heart to heart and air it all out

[attyy]

'ONE FOR THE BOOKS!'

desc: suna x reader, suna's version of asking you to watch his game. one game, one block, one photo later— he's never living it down. but maybe, he doesn't really mind.

suna: hey 

suna: i have a game

suna: if you’re interested 

suna: its js the nationals

suna: no big deal

y/n: is this u asking me to watch ur game 

suna: maybe

y/n: fine, i’ll go 

suna: i got the huzz

y/n: nvm

GAME DAY: 

The gym buzzed with energy, sneakers squeaking and crowd roars cheering. It was the final set. To no surprise, Inarizaki was in the lead. With one point left. You were on the edge of your seat, heart pounding. 

Atsumu’s serve flew over the net. The other team scrambled to return it. Suna quickly read the setter’s moves and jumped. His feet barely touched the floor, his arms extending.

BLOCK. 

BUZZ. 

Game over. 

The gym erupted in cheers. As the team bowed, Suna looked up— only at you. 

—

You waited in the hallway, letting the crowd flood out. Suna appeared and walked over, catching his breath, coming off the adrenaline, and glowing from the win.

“Congrats,” you said, smiling. “The last block? Insane. I didn’t know you were that good.”

He blinked, a bit surprised you came. “Thanks. I didn’t know you were serious.”

“You invited me. Of course I’d watch.” You teased,  “Did you win for me?”

He shrugged, acting casual, “Would’ve scored more if I saw you earlier.”

Before you could respond, a voice yelled out.

“YO, IS THIS HER?”

Suna groaned. “God,” He muttered. “Who summoned the gremlin.” Atsumu jogged over with a sneaky grin, followed by the rest of the team. 

Aran gave Suna a knowing look. “Sorry about Atsumu. I forgot to bring my leash.” Kita offered a polite nod. I’m Kita, nice to meet you. Thanks for watching us today, it means a lot.” 

“Don’t scare her off,” Aran said. He looked at you, amused. “My bad, y/n. I couldn’t stop them. They were insisting on following Suna.” 

“Shut up,” Suna muttered under his breath. 

You laugh, “You were all amazing out there.” 

Atsumu beamed. “Finally. Someone with taste.” Osamu nodded. “You fit in already.”

“We’re adopting you,” Atsumu added quickly. “Sorry. No refunds.”

Suna sighed, “You guys are so embarrassing.”

“Well, now that we know she’s real…” Osamu grinned, “And since this is a historic moment,” Atsumu added, “We need a photo! We need evidence.”

Aran rolled his eyes. “Give them some space first, will you?”

“I just need one,” Atsumu insisted. “ONE picture and I can live my days in peace. That’s all I ask.”

Kita deadpanned, “You just want blackmail.”

“Suna has loads of blackmail on me! So..same thing.”

Suna glanced at you, with his eyes asking the question: Is this okay?

You gave a little nod, and he relaxed next to you. “Fine. But just one.”

“Smile!” Atsumu grinned, then snapped the photo. “There. Our little Suna has rizz. Atsumu declared. 

“Kill me,” Suna muttered. Aran smirked. “Alright, we’ll give you two a moment. As the team started to walk away, Atsumu called over your shoulder. “Don’t forget to give us your number too!”

Suna rolled his eyes. You let out a laugh, “They’re fun.” He exhaled. “They’re loud.” He added, “I’m glad you came, I needed some sanity around here.”

“Me too. Who knows? I might even come again.” 

He smiled. “Then I’ll keep winning.”

AFTER:

“Give me the photo, sumu.” He said casually. 

Atsumu froze, then slowly turned with the biggest grin on his face. “Which photo?”

Suna gave him a look. “You know which.”

Atsumu smirked, “You tryna make it your lockscreen or somethin’? Frame it? Make it your family heirloom? Put it in yer’ wallet like it's 2015?”

“The bears should've eaten you, goldilocks."

“Damn, down bad.” Osamu chimed in. 

As Atsumu airdropped it, and as Suna clicked on the photo, him beside you, flushed and all awkward, he didn’t deny it. 

He saved it, and later made a new album. Safe to say it’s one of his favorites.

all works belong to @attyy, do not copy, steal, or plagiarize my works.

[possamble]

What are your headcanons about Marcille's mom if you have any? It's interesting that what drew Donato to her was cause she lived the history he studied, or that was said somewhere at least. She must've had an interesting life.

so this was going to be just a normal answer but then I realized I have a Lot of Things To Say. so here goes, a compilation of what we know for a fact from the canon, what I've extrapolated from the visual cues and details, and my theories based on all of that.

Things we know for a fact about Marcille's mother because they were explicitly stated in the manga and supplemental materials:

She was a court mage for a Tall-man kingdom at the southern part of the Northern Continent

Donato, a court historian, fell in love with her because she had lived through the history he was studying, and he courted her for 17 years (age 15 to 32) before getting married

She was a cheerful person who rarely showed extreme emotion and took things as they came

She always cooked a huge meal for Marcille on her birthdays

She remarried a gnome after Donato's death and a short distance away from Marcille's childhood home

Pipi, Marcille's pet bird, was actually older than Marcille and originally belonged to her mother (bird died at 62)

She was extremely heartbroken when Donato died and ultimately ended up instilling a deep fear of mortality in Marcille with her words

the only time she showed extreme emotion in front of her family was when Donato could no longer eat his favourite dish near the end of his life.

She scolded Marcille for being cruel to ants (implying she can have a stern side when needed)

Things that are explicitly shown but mostly through visual cues

She has a very distinctive style of dress always involving a ribbon choker (mirroring Marcille's habit of always wearing a matching choker with any of her outfits that don't cover her neck)

She was almost stereotypically good at housekeeping and traditionally "wifely" things (very frequently depicted wearing an apron or doing some domestic chore when not at work, seems to have been an avid cook).

She knits? (also, note the affectionate smile as she's looking at Donato and Marcille reading a book together in the full panel)

She was as excited for Marcille's milestones as Donato was.

She didn't tell Marcille much about elven food

(there are a couple things that this panel in particular implies:

She lived a good deal of her life (if not being born and raised) in a mainly elven country in the West, implied by her knowing enough of an elven region's cuisine to prefer Tall-man food over it

seems to have a pretty carefree and casual demeanour overall, if this is how she replied to Marcille asking her about it (sounds like she never gave her culinary preferences that much thought to begin with)

slightly related to number 2, it seems like she and Marcille had a fairly casual parent-child dynamic (especially in comparison to the Toudens' memory of their father)

(local elf tastes Italian food once and never goes back))

However, she seems a lot more... serious in most of the other times we see her? Almost like the very stereotypical archetype of a graceful elf.

Subsequent conclusions about her personality:

Usually pretty carefree and cheerful at home, has been a loving and attentive parent throughout Marcille's childhood (while not being so doting that she didn't discipline Marcille).

Slightly more conjectural theories on her personality:

Had a much more graceful and professional personality at work, which would explain the more serious portraits we see of her.

Given that both she and Donato had positions at the royal court, it seems a little odd that she'd go out of her way to do all the housework herself, so maybe she just enjoyed doing it?

Now taping all the evidence together and toeing the line between analysis and fanfiction:

It's clear that she loved Donato very much and was utterly devastated by losing him. But there's one thing that really stuck out to me in what little we see of her:

Doesn't she seem... angry? The way she's gritting her teeth, clutching the tablecloth, and how this is the first and only time we see her eyes opened that wide. In the following panel, you see her being quiet and dejected after her initial outburst. She's still crying very intensely, but her brows are furrowed, and she's not really responding to Donato's affection in her body language.

We're not told the details of how she felt about losing Donato other than that it upset her. But this, to me, implies that she was angry and resented that he was aging, that the end of his life was approaching. An "it's not fair" type of preemptive grief. And if this was the first and last time she cried like this in front of her family, she was either very good at coping in private... or very bad at letting herself feel unpleasant emotions until they become unavoidable and end up overwhelming her.

It's not too remarkable a detail on the surface. It's even reminiscent of what the audience has seen of Marcille. But... when it comes to the big picture, you'd think an elf who voluntarily chose to marry a tall-man and have a half-elf child would have been better prepared for this.

It kind of recontextualizes her cheerfulness to me.

"I'm sure everything's gonna be okay!" (or some variation thereof, depending on what translation you have).

And this is stated to contrast her extreme grief when finally confronting Donato's failing body and eventual death. But I'm wondering if... maybe this optimism was why she was so upset. What if she went into all of it thinking "everything's gonna be okay"? What if she was a little young by elven standards, and just followed her heart thinking that her own resilience would get her through anything?

Of course, only to get completely overwhelmed when she actually loses Donato. She turns into a completely different person. And that's heartbreaking on its own-- but what the audience sees is the effect it had on Marcille. Can you imagine being her, watching your invincible and upbeat mother suddenly lose all the light in her eyes in one go?

I've already made a huge post about how I think Marcille models her "work persona" off her mother, but another thing that stuck with me as I was looking for more details in the manga was this:

copy pasting from the other post i made about it lmao it's like... the second she resigns herself to lifelong pain and terror, there's another portrait of her mother facing her like this. with their heads bowed, in mirrored body language of resignation and despair and sorrow. Except it's posed like Marcille is still looking at her mother but her mother is looking away.

It took me a second to realize, but I think that it's a visual metaphor for the fact that Marcille's mother was the only long-lived role model she had-- and she failed to model healthy grief for her daughter. I don't say this as an accusation or to disparage her as a character, but just as a matter of fact. In her, Marcille was seeing herself older and losing a short-lived spouse or loved one of her own, and all she saw was hopelessness.

But her mother didn't mean to instill hopelessness and terror in her. She wasn't really thinking of how it would truly affect Marcille at all (at least, that's how I'm interpreting her looking down and away from Marcille in the metaphor), she was just sad. And she, in her own way, was trying to protect her daughter and help her prepare for future losses.

What she meant was "loss is inevitable, and you have to learn how to be in pain but live on anyway." What Marcille heard was "loss is inevitable, and you will be scared and hurt for the rest of your life."

Again. Marcille's mother doesn't feature explicitly in the story the way her father does -- but in so many ways, her shadow, her silhouette, her reflection is always hanging over Marcille.

All that to say... headcanon-wise (everything from here on is 100% without evidence lmao), I'd like to think that she matured and realized that she failed Marcille. I imagine her being regretful about it, wanting a chance to fix it but never finding a way to insert herself back into Marcille's life when Marcille is so so so busy becoming the most accomplished mage possible. I imagine her being herself again, now, so many years after her loss and after remarrying -- but with her cheerfulness tempered with a lot more wisdom and the pain of having gone through loss like that. I think the second Marcille actually tells her what happened in the dungeon, she'd want to go running to her daughter again -- if Marcille tells her the full truth instead of just being embarrassed she let things get that far. (oh, the tragedy of her wanting to be more like her mother and an accomplished adult who doesn't need to be babied... being embarrassed to actually tell her mother how much she fucked up...)

There's also the tension of her having remarried -- I know that there's at least a little bit of resentment that Marcille harbours about that, because she's childish like that at heart even if she makes an effort not to externalize it. I think that her mother would be aware of that, potentially adding to her sense of guilt and apprehension at trying to reappear/intrude on Marcille's life. I honestly don't think Marcille has met her stepfather -- or even considers him a stepfather rather than "mama's new husband" and kind of a total stranger. I think she and her mother actively don't talk about it in their correspondence, like an elephant in the room.

but, ultimately, I think her mother is on her side no matter what. Ancient magic? Dark necromancy? Sure, she'll feel guilty and like she was partially responsible for setting Marcille down such a painful path, but she wouldn't care. that's her daughter!! she would've moved back west and been petitioning for her at the court, buying a house right next to the Canaries barracks and visiting her every day that she wasn't on a mission. And if her husband had opinions on Marcille becoming a "dark arts user," he either gets over it or it's divorce with him. Yes, she might have had her optimism completely humbled by losing Donato like that -- but she's still headstrong and self-assured and she doesn't care what people think of her. It's her way or the highway and she's always going to be in Marcille's corner.

(She also needs a name lol. I went with Juno, just to be cute about "Marcille"s closest real life equivalent being Marcella, which is the female version of Marcellus, which in turn is a diminutive of Marcus, which was derived from Mars. Absolutely in love with Marcille potentially being named after Ares/Mars the fucking god of war btw)

[pears-trinkets]

.

[precure1ove-archive]

crush panic w/ nrc

byi : no grim or ortho, may be ooc, crack?, fluff, not edited, completely self indulgent everything is intended as romantic

a/n : new theme how we feeling!! my favourite is loser as its the most fun to write. im thinking of making a second part on how they confess if this does well

an absolute loser in love

he has absolutely fallen head over heels for you and now has no idea how to act normal around you anymore. the slightest bit of physical contact or praise will send him into shock, and later cause no sleep at night because he over thinks that one moment again and again. “does that mean they like me too? Or are they just being friendly?” 

yeah there's no hope for him. he acts super awkward around you, stuttering, laughing randomly, no he isn't blushing it's just suddenly hot all of the sudden-in the middle of the coldest season-he always agonizes over why he can't just act cool in front of you. during classes, if you're in his you bet he’ll just stare at you from afar, and if you're in his well he discreetly glances at you every now and then not knowing that you can clearly see him looking at you-though you don't seem to mind finding it cute.

and if you tell him that he’ll go bright red and avert his gaze “haha.. uh thanks.. I think?” cue screaming into a pillow later at night.

deuce, idia, azul, riddle, sebek + ur fav

stage five complete and utter denial

he's in complete denial. there's no way that he likes you, he must be getting sick that's why his heart beats fast when you're near with his cheeks burning a bright red. he makes it his entire goal to try and lose feelings for you, so he creates a list of all your good and bad attributions-unsurprisingly all the negative ones turn out not so bad when he puts thought into it it ...what the hell is he thinking? 

it may take a while for him to accept his feelings, so you're gonna have to endure glares when passing or in class and possible snarky comments thrown at you. However, if he hears someone is mean to you, crush be damned he can only do that to you. He tries to act completely uninterested in you, a way to fool himself that he does not like you, but the second he hears any bit of gossip he's suddenly interested. 

he looks at you weirdly, flustered at your question “uh... why am i suddenly interested in who you were with.. no reason.”

leona, ace, vil, ruggie + ur fav

doesn't realise he has a crush

oh spare this oblivious boy, he hasn't ever really liked someone before so he doesn’t know that wanting to spend more time with you, fussing over your well-being, thinking of you and how much better it would be if you were here is not what platonic friends should be thinking-especially if those thoughts lead to how would your lips feel.

someone would have to straight up tell him that he has a crush on you or he would never figure it out for himself and go on with his life never confessing. when someone finally does tell him, he’ll notice how different he really acts, catching himself waiting for your messages and dropping everything once you text back. you also get the added bonus of finally seeing him flustered! since he's in the stage of actually being involved in having a crush, every touch, smile, or praise is enough to make his face and ears turn red.

“wait so you mean wanting to kiss them is not normal?” he pauses and rethinks everything he thought about you.

silver, kalim, malleus, jack + ur fav

quick to show off to impress you

he doesn't believe he can win your heart with his personality so he works extra hard on stuff he knows he can do well-better than the average person-he believes if he impresses you by this he has a chance. surprisingly he acts rather normal with you, excluding the way he's more relaxed with your presence and the constant flush on his face.

he's rather quick to recognise his crush on you and he's even more quick to decide he needs to make himself an available suitor in your eyes. you’ve gotten used to your name being called out across the halls from him, strutting over to you to show you what he made or did last night-he'll become flustered if you praise him shrugging it off with flimsy excuses until he gets back into what he originally wanted to share albeit with a slight red face. what's even better is if he invites you out to come try it with him, enjoying the chance to spend time with you and show off in real time what he can do.

“what do you think of this, isn't it impressive? you really think so.. haha..”

trey, cater, jamil, epel + ur fav

he goes straight to courting you

he's the first to notice his change in feelings for you from platonic to romantic instantly and wastes no time to try and court you. he starts greeting you daily, offering you gifts, takes you out with the excuse of needing help and you find yourself out at a restaurant eating expensive food and wonder how the hell did you end up here when he needed a book? 

you will never catch this boy being flustered instead you'll find yourself stuttering while turning a bright red. if you enact physical contact or compliment him he flashes you a mischievous smile and teases you for ‘finally falling for him’.. no, that was not a joke. despite all the teasing he does genuinely care about you and goes out of his way to buy or make stuff he'll think you'll like, your reaction to his displays of courting amuses him especially when you make such cute faces at him. courting is just a way for him to make his feelings known, after all you were his the moment he caught feelings.

“hm.. how did we end up at a restaurant.. does it matter? now what did you choose for the meal?”

jade, rook, lilia

there's no crush. you're dating

floyd has never experienced the crush stage and he doesn't want to after all that's boring. why wait thinking about coincidental glances, and accidental contact when he knows he likes you and you like him! he's fast to let you know his feelings and won't take no for an answer why would you reject him if you like him. 

now that you think about it, you're not even sure floyd even asked you out. he just sort of grabbed your hand, said 'you're mine' and you both went to get food. so well done you're in a not relationship-relationship with a giant eel! floyd feels like he can never get bored being with you and is always by your side, or on since he's a fan of physical touch and will have some part of him touching you-an arm on your waist, legs over his, head tucked into your neck-the only time he's away from you is if jade or azul need him for the lounge and that's only for a few moments until you're also called by them to keep floyd in the lounge.

“huh, do i like you?” floyd glances at you briefly before grumbling, “we literally made out this morning and you're asking if i like you shrimpy.”

floyd

likes & reblogs appreciated

masterlist⠀ — ⠀ request here

[myrleius]

love letter — iwaizumi h.

iwaizumi h. X shy fem!reader│word count: 1.9k

synopsis: You’ve had a crush on Iwaizumi for a while now and finally decided to confess through a letter. But to your surprise, he rejects it.

cw/tags: pure fluff, misunderstandings, light angst (resolved quickly)

Today was the day. 

The mirror reflected a face that wasn’t sure whether to look determined or terrified. You adjusted the collar of your uniform for the third time, smoothing its nonexistent wrinkles, then clipped a small, colorful hair clip into your hair–a small attempt at looking cute.

You sighed and stepped back, moving around to check your overall appearance. It wasn’t bad but it looked like your usual ordinary self. You were never one to obsess over your looks, looking clean and simple was usually enough. But the thought of meeting him, of him knowing who you are, made you want to put in a bit more effort. Alas, Seijoh had a strict dress code so you didn’t have much room for experimentation anyway.

Your bag caught your eye sitting on your desk. Inside, the letter waited. You had checked a million times, both night and morning, making sure it hadn’t somehow disappeared. Maybe you hoped it had so you wouldn't have to go through this. 

But no. There was no turning back now. 

You’ve thought about this for months, prepared for it for weeks. You didn’t want to throw away your efforts, and you definitely didn’t want to regret not saying anything like you’ve done with your past crushes. With a determined huff, you grabbed your bag and headed out before you could second guess yourself further.

Classes passed in a blur, your mind too busy daydreaming to focus. You rehearsed the plan in your head over and over, making sure you knew exactly what to say and what to do when you approached him. It wasn't until lunchtime that the nerves started crawling into your skin. What if this was a mistake? What if you weren’t ready? What if you messed up?

Truthfully, it wasn't about his reply (though that's a big deal too)—you were more afraid of how he’d see you after this. 

The two of you only met once at the cultural festival. You had wandered into a classroom hosting a raffle draw, unaware that claiming the prize required completing a dare. By the time you had realized it, it was too late. Your name was called and the attendant asked you to do a cute idol pose. It was simple but it didn’t mortify you any less.

You hesitated, feeling your palms grow clammy and your heart pounding against your ribs. The murmurs of the students behind you heightened into a roar of complaints in your ears, and it made you want to run off and just disappea–

“You’re overthinking it. Just go for it.”

A voice murmured behind you, steady and matter-of-fact. You turned and met the gaze of the guy next in line, his expression unreadable.

“No one’s going to remember in five minutes,” he added, hands in his pockets. “They’re too busy worrying about their own dares.”

It wasn’t exactly reassuring, but it was grounding. He spoke like it was simple, like this wasn’t something worth spiraling over. And somehow, that made it easier.

You did the pose—quick and awkward, but done. And the moment passed yet the world didn’t end. When you turned to sneak a glance at him, he wasn’t even looking anymore. That small exchange lingered in your mind long after. It wasn’t the fact that Iwaizumi had helped, it was the way he had done it that impacted you the most. No coddling, no teasing, just quiet confidence in you, like you were already capable.

And now, standing outside his classroom with your love letter behind your back, you at least wanted to leave a good impression on him as he had on you, even if he does reject your affections in the end.

Taking a deep breath, you slide the door open just enough to peek inside. A student near the door glanced at you, his brow raised in curiosity.

“Um, sorry to bother you, but I'm looking for Iwaizumi-san?” you asked, shifting nervously on your feet.

The student nodded, looking around before his eyes fell on the volleyball player in the corner. “Oi, Iwaizumi!” he called and jerked his head over to you. “Someone's looking for you.”

Iwaizumi's head snapped up. The moment your eyes met, your breath hitched. He stood and walked towards you, his footsteps syncing with the pounding of your heartbeat.

“What is it?” he asked, his tone serious and stoic as ever.

You didn't answer at first, too dazed with the fact that this was really happening. Your friends had never understood why you were so smitten with Iwaizumi (even after telling them the story of how you two first met) especially when Oikawa, the team’s captain, drew all the attention. Iwaizumi wasn’t flashy or outgoing, but that was exactly what you admired about him. There was a quiet yet solid confidence in the way he carried himself, and to you, that was way more captivating.

“Uh, yeah, hi. Can I talk to you?” you managed to say once you’ve regained your composure, gaze shifting to his classmates. “Alone... if that's okay?”

Iwaizumi stared at you, his expression hard to read, before nodding. You nodded back, somehow finding comfort in mimicking his action, and began to lead him to a more secluded spot behind the school building.

Once you were sure no one else was around, you turned to face him. Little pins prick at your cheeks, a sure sign that you were already blushing furiously. You took a deep breath, it was now or never. Shutting your eyes, you held the letter out toward him. 

“I-I, uh, the reason I…” you fumbled, the script you rehearsed in your head drawing blank and you start to feel the panic set in. “Can... Can you take this for me!?”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you knew you had messed up. That wasn’t how you had planned to say it at all. Your heart pounded as embarrassment washed over you. Was that too abrupt? Too demanding? Oh god, what if he thought you were rude? 

“Sorry! Oh gosh, I didn't mean it like that!” you blurted out, frantically waving your hands. “Wait. Let me start over—”

“No.”

You froze. The word had hit you harder than it should have. “I... What?”

“I won't take it,” Iwaizumi repeated, more stern this time.

You suck in a sharp breath, your fingers curling slightly at the letter that was supposed to be in his hands now. 

“But why…?” you asked, your voice coming out more quieter than you intended. You knew he didn't owe you an explanation, but asking was the only thing keeping your composure from cracking entirely.

Iwaizumi sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I'm not trying to be mean but you should really do this by yourself. You won't raise your chances at getting with him through me. Trust me, that jerk would be way happier receiving that love letter from you directly. Would probably inflate his already shitty ego too.”

“... What?” you asked, blinking in confusion. 

“What?” Iwaizumi asked back, just as confused.

“What do you mean by ‘giving it to him’?” Your brows furrowed. “Who?”

“Oikawa?” He said it like it was obvious. “Weren't you talking about him?”

“Oika—Of course not!” you said quickly. “I was talking about you!”

The words hung in the air, its impact resonating.

Iwaizumi's eyes widened, a blush creeping up his cheeks. You were just about to think it was cute when your mind screeched to a halt. 

Oh.

You confessed to him. 

It was roundabout, super awkward, and completely unintentional, but it was still a confession.

Your heart stuttered in horror.

“I, uh…” Iwaizumi trailed off, visibly struggling to respond. “Sorry for assuming? Most girls usually talk to me for... that.”

“Oh.” You hadn’t expected that. You knew he wasn’t as popular as Oikawa, but somehow, the idea of Iwaizumi being overlooked made your chest tighten. “It's okay. I... kinda didn't say it clearly so I understand why you misunderstood. Sorry.”

“No! It's my fault for jumping to conclusions,” he said quickly, stepping forward as if to further insist his point–only to freeze when he realized how close he got, a deep red spreading up to his cheeks. “I-I should've heard you out more properly.”

“No, it's not your fault, Iwaizumi-san.”

“It's not yours either, er…”

“Yn,” you supplied, realizing with a quiet chuckle that you hadn't even introduced yourself.

“Yn,” he repeated and you nearly forgot how to breathe. There was something about the way he said your name that made you like it ten times more.

“It's really not your fault,” he added firmly.

“Can we just say that we're both at fault?” you offered with a hesitant smile. “Because I don't think I can blame you entirely. Or at all.”

For a second, you were worried the tension would linger, but then–

Iwaizumi laughed.

It was short and awkward, maybe sounding more of a soft snort than a laugh? Still, you found yourself drawn to it. Like it's the best thing you've heard.

Feeling a bit braver, you offered the letter toward him again, wincing slightly as you realized it was a little crumpled from how tightly you’d been holding it. “So… are you okay with taking this?”

Iwaizumi eyed the letter, his gaze lingering on the small doodles you decorated at the edges. You suddenly felt embarrassed. Was it too childish? Maybe too much?

"Y-You don't have to give me a reply now,” you added quickly. “I know it's sudden, and I don't really think I did the best job at putting my feelings out there, but I'd appreciate it if you answer me honestly after thinking about it. Even if just a little.”

Iwaizumi was quiet for a moment. Then, he smiled.

“Sure,” he said, finally taking the letter off your hands. “I'll tell you when I've made up my mind.”

You felt your shoulders sag in relief and you returned his smile with one of your own. “Thank you.”

That night, Iwaizumi sat at his desk for hours, staring at the letter. He'd read it four times already, to the point where he could anticipate the next compliment, his eyes tracing her neat handwriting once more.

It was his first time receiving something like this. He couldn't really call it a 'love letter' per se. He'd seen those before–notes littered with flowery and gushing phrases–when Oikawa received some from his fangirls. Yn’s letter wasn’t like that. It was more like a letter that said she saw him.

Sure, it was also filled with praises that inflated his ego more than they should, but the way she worded it felt more like respect rather than infatuation. It was weird. He never saw himself like she did. To him, he was just doing things normally. 

But as he read through her words, a realization settled in–maybe he really was someone worth admiring. 

To know that his kindness, passion and earnestness reached someone he hadn’t even known existed until today filled him with a quiet, humbling warmth. It was proof that even the smallest gestures could ripple through the lives of others.

He sighed and folded the letter neatly back into its envelope, the smile on his face still lingering even after hours had passed. Now, he understood why Oikawa liked the attention. It was both amazing and terrifying how a few words from someone could make him feel invincible.

Iwaizumi leaned back in his chair, glancing at the letter one last time before tucking it safely into his drawer. He wasn't sure what answer to give yn yet. They've only just met after all. 

But he was sure of one thing.

He would carry her words with him, knowing that who he was, as he is, mattered to someone.

[messenger-of-babel]

Just Like Him

Summary: When you argue with Jason, you slowly start seeing less of Jason Todd and more of Bruce Wayne. (Jason Todd x reader)

Word Count: 1.9K

Notes: I legit came back home from a night out and sat here editing this till 3am cause I refused to miss a post haha. A little bit shorter due to that and I'll do a second look over it later. Only warning for this is mentions of violence as usual for most of these, and that it hasn't been as edited cleanly as usual. Tomorrow's post might be really delayed too since I've got events tomorrow too. Anyways, enjoy my Lovelies~! xx

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You had loved Jason. You did love Jason.

You loved the boy who was too awkward to hold your hand when you went out in public, who left you notes at your door when he was too frustrated and too pent up to explain himself properly. You loved his habits, his quirks, the way that he cooked you food if he knew he was going to be out for a few days, silently leaving it in the fridge in the hopes you’d keep yourself healthy.

You also loved the dark sides of him, the nightmares he woke up to, skin sticky with sweat. You loved him even when his eyes were lost in the darkness, unable to tell who you were exactly but still seeking the comfort of your arms to shield him. You loved him even when he tensed outside in public, a sound, a smell, setting him off and making him clench onto your hand. His eyes were scared, but you didn’t mind bringing him back into reality, letting him know that you were here for him. 

Yet on nights like these, you love for him faltered slightly. These were the nights that you couldn’t temper, the ones here he burned angrily and bit hard. He was currently pacing the kitchen, hands in his hair after a rough patrol. 

“You just don’t understand.” He murmured over and over. “Maybe you just don’t get it. Maybe you just never will. How could you even try to?” 

That hurt you, the way he talked like you weren’t even there. Like you weren’t in tears on the other side of the kitchen island. Like you hadn’t been having this argument for an hour how, sunset drinking its way into the dusk. 

This was the part of Jason that hurt you, the coarse side that snarled and growled at you like he was an injured dog. The side that looked at you with those striking green eyes narrowed into slits, who spat words like he’d never seen you before.

“I do understand Jason.” I you sigh. “You want to protect this city, you want to change Gotham, but don’t you dare tell me what I know or don’t, when I’m asking you to just be home more. Is it really that hard to protect the city and go out for a date?” You sigh, heart beginning to falter under the scrutiny of his gaze. “I know you can’t always be there. Neither can I, but please,” you say, folding your arms across your chest. “Please be there for me.”

“I am.” He groans back out, making a flicker of irritation spark in you. 

“Not you’re not.” You counter. “You leave dates, you leave dinners, you don’t come home some nights. No warning, no text, no notice.” You snap back.  “Being there for me is being at those dinners, going on those dates, coming home, spending time in bed with me.” You snap. "it's not cold sheets, cold food, cold feet on date nights. Step up."

He throws his hands up in the air, teeth clenched. "Can't you see I'm trying to save the city? trying to stop it from eating itself from the inside? You know its corrupted, you know about the violence. Hell, you got shot." he snaps back. His fists are tightly clenched by his side, eyes burning into yours. You stare back at him defiantly, and it makes the frustration in him rise.

He knows he's not good at words, knows that he's rough around the edges. The voice in his head tells him that when he sits up at night, when he finally comes home. His head leans back against the headboard whole you sleep peacefully beside him, rolled completely onto your side. His fingers twist in the sheets, as it speaks at him, tells him that he's not good enough to be with you. That the city isn't safe enough, that he needs to make it safer. He wasn’t the safest out of Batman's gang of protegees. He had a hit list that had started while he was just a young teenager and continued to have names added every other week. He'd been shot at, stabbed, thrown into and off of buildings, and that was something he was fine with. that was his job, his burden.

But when you got shot, that's when life really had caught up with him. It was like he had been living his life in slow motion up until that point, until it all rushed forward like a wave on double speed. He hadn't erven been there, halfway across town with Nightwing on some stakeout when he got the call. Dick had let him go without a word, merely watching him speed away on his bike before calling in backup from the cave to replace him. He didn't care that Bruce would get mad at him for abandoning his post, he could go to hell. What he cared about was you, and the fact that he hadn't been able to protect you, been able to stop it from happening. He heard about it only when the hospital called him, informing him that you were being prepped for surgery immediately.

How bad was it? Was it just one shot? Did it go cleanly through? Where were you hit? What calibre? What make? What model? Where did it take place?

Those were all questions that Red Hood might have been allowed to ask if he had worn the mask and marched through the emergency department, but he couldn’t do that. If he did it would be a giant target on your back, associating you with his vigilante life in the most obvious way possible. Instead, he had to race through the doors breathless as Jason Todd, the worried boyfriend who had to be held back by security trying to get to your ward.

 You had of course recovered, learnt to walk again on the leg that caught a stray bullet from a gang shoot out in Lower Gotham. It had been worryingly close to your artery, but you had pulled through. Jason couldn’t deny the fact that his status as a Wayne kid helped your care and the way the hospital aided your recovery. With a harsh word, Jason could have any of their licenses revoked.

That's why Jason did it. To make sure that the fear that gripped his heart that night never had the chance to wrangle him like that again. He'd fight night after night and come home with a string of broken and bloodied knuckles if it meant that you would be okay. It's all he can think about as he stares you down in the kitchen, watching your jaw twitch.

"Don't you dare use the fact that I got shot, against me." you seethe, hand coming up to point at him. "That wasn’t my fault, and it could have happened to anyone in the town, it's Gotham, Jason." you bite back, and he throws his hands up.

"That's exactly the problem! It's Gotham." he shouts. "You can get shot, or stabbed, or killed. Anyone can. one day you're here, the next you ain't. You really want to go out there, sweetheart? You got shot and you want to tell me not to clean the streets up? The sheets are cold? Well, they'd be a lot colder if you were dead." he spits back, and you are too stunned to say anything. You shake your head, a look of realisation coming over you.

"Oh my god," you breathe out. "you're just like Bruce. You’re no better."

That makes something in his freeze, halting all of his movements and shutting down his train of thought. You see it, see the way his bright green eyes widen and his head tilts slightly, making the white tuft in his hair flop over his eyes as you continue. "You're so obsessed with cleaning up the city. So obsessed with fighting out there that you can't give it up even for a second. You both can't. You criticize the man, tore him apart for his neglect just to do the exact same god damn thing.” Tears begin to prick your eyes in helplessness, lump building in your throat.

"You can’t see yourself out of that stupid helmet." you say, choking up as the tears clog your vision. "When was the last time that you read?" you ask, sniffling. "When was the last time you did a hobby, or rode your bike as a civilian? When's the last time we went on a date or held hands, or went to the park, or the library or anywhere?" you yell at him, hand coming to claw at your heart.

"When was the last time you were Jason?" you whisper softly. "Because right now, I feel like Jason Todd has died for a second time." you choke out. "Except this time, it wasn’t Joker who killed him."

You wipe your eyes with your sleeve while you leave him stunned, pushing past him to go into your bedroom. When the door slams harshly it snaps him out of the stupor he had found himself in, body swivelling on his heel immediately to follow you.

 You didn't respond to his soft knocking at the door, or his calls. You didn’t accept the apologies he murmured into the wood, didn't bother to listen to his promises or ways that he swore he could make it better. It was only when he began knocking desperately, worrying building, that you swung it open violently.

Your face is a mess, sticky with tears and chin wet. Your breath comes out in small hiccups as you try to collect yourself, still mid sob as you shout at him. "Couch." you seethe, your puffy eyes glaring at him with a hurt filled dagger before the door slammed in his face. He sighed, forehead against the wood before pushing off the door frame with a click of his tongue. He plops down onto the living room couch with a groan, legs thrown over the side to try and accommodate for his size. He raises an arm to cover his eyes, other arm grabbing a couch cushion and bringing it to his chest.

"You're just like Bruce, no better." rattled around in his skull, making him chew at his lip. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like being compared to Bruce, even if he respected the man at times. He had come back, intending to be everything for others that Bruce had failed to be for him. Yet according to you, he was walking the same steps the man before him had traced.

Was he really no better than Bruce?

He groans and removes his arm from his eyes. He casts them over to the turned off TV, catching the sight of a much younger Robin peering back at him. With a smile the boy took off the domino mask and revealed the childish figure that was young Jason Todd. He raises a hand to his face as well, mirroring what he had just seen the reflection do. Except when he pulled his hand away, studying the digits instead of the TV screen, he could still see the remnants of the Hood he failed to leave at the door.

[nmakii]

inspired by @kaislvves’s bastard post… ps: i acc love dior sauvage its my scent for when i go to school but its so strong HAHAHAHA

kaiser’s cologne has an overwhelming scent. not just in a way that two sprays could fill the entire bastard münchen cafeteria in his scent, but also in a way that lasts. his scent lasts on for a week before it finally wears off.

what’s his scent? dior sauvage, the scent of liars. kaiser likes the overwhelming presence of its’ scent; it’s as powerful as he is.

he loves to spray his cologne all over your closet and clothes, making sure that whatever you wear, and whatever perfume you try to wear to overpower it, you end up on the other side smelling of him.

it’s adorable how you spray on your 70 euro hermès perfume, checking out your outfit in the full-body mirror in your bedroom, before you’re coughing and choking on his overwhelming scent.

“mikka!” you shout out. “stop spraying your perfume on my clothes, it’s so strong!” you frown. his attention is finally raised away from his phone when he finally looks up to you, small circle-framed glasses starting to slide down his nose before he pushes it up with his middle finger.

“why should i? i like doing it.” he simply states. that’s just how he was; how he was raised— if he wants something, he must do everything to take it. likewise, if he wants to keep something, he has to make sure no one else steals it.

and with a job that forces him to almost always be out of country, he can’t help but worry about his rose. what if another piece of trash tries to flirt with you while you’re vulnerable? the overwhelming, almost sickly scent of citrus and pepper would be enough to tell them to back off; you’re already taken by another man.

“yeah; well, i don’t like it. it always lingers for too long.” you explain. and to kaiser, your explanation is moronic. “…that’s the point of a cologne; to linger.” he bluntly states. you roll your eyes at his smart-assed response, and scoff, “ugh— duh, but it stays on for days!”

kaiser only shrugs. “good. everyone knows you’re taken.” he’s quite adamant to telling the media what fragrance he uses. it’s odd, but he always encourages his interviewers to smell him in at least one point of the interview, giving him the chance to comment on his fragrance. it’s become a bit of a meme in his fandom that he wants to get sponsored by dior. but, no.

this isn’t about money.

it’s about everyone knowing his scent.

like a wolf marking his territory, kaiser leaves his scent on what he owns. and what he owns is you; your heart. it’s not enough that you love him with your heart as much as he cherishes you— he needs others to feel him spiritually when you’re nearby.

“this is stupid, mikka. none of my perfumes linger anymore cause of your dumb sauvage.” you scoff. and, kaiser stands up from his place in the bedroom, moving behind you. his overwhelming height makes for an awkward position when he rests his arms on your shoulders, and his jaw on your forehead. he stares at the reflection in the mirror, admiring of his and your beauty. the glint in his eyes is dangerous— as dangerous as the cheshire grin he proudly displays before he completely destroys an opponent in a match.

“would you want different kind of physical marking then?” he asks. his fingers delicately ghosting to touch the ticklish parts of your neck.

“…no.” you roll your eyes. kaiser sneers.

“then, you’ll have to stick with the cologne.”

[meowdei]

GOJO SATORU : ADVANTAGE

female reader ; mentions of alcohol and hooking up ; friends to lovers ; getting together (sort of) ; your typical clingy, annoying, and slightly shameless satoru

There is a boy in your bed.

That’s the first thing you notice when you wake up. The second thing is that his arms are curled around your waist. The third is that you’re both rather bare…which is the most mortifying part of it all. You have no recollection of what happened the night before to land you in such a scandalizing predicament—just that one drink turned into one too many.

So, with pretty limited options, you lay painfully still, trying to figure out what you should do. Should you leave? (No, this is your own home, after all). Should you wake him up? (That might make things a bit awkward, though). Should you pretend to sleep until he finally wakes up and leaves himself? (But that might take too long and your anxiety might kill you first). You weigh your options, still careful enough to stay still—at least, you try.

He suddenly pulls you closer, and you flinch against your will.

“Oh, you’re up!” He chirps instantly.

Everything stops as soon as you hear the voice. The world stops spinning. It might have even shifted from its tilted axis. Your blood runs cold. Your heart stops beating. You think maybe even for a moment, your soul may have left your body.

Satoru.

“Satoru?” You turn around quickly—and then, just as quickly, you give a small, panicked gasp and pull the blanket to cover your chest.

He eyes you in amusement as he causally says, “I already saw everything, so you don’t really need to bother with all that.”

How shameless. Which, of course, is pretty on brand for him. But still, how shameless.

“You’re unbelievable,” you hiss, glaring at him, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You invited me here,” he grins. It’s too wide for your liking. You’d mistake it for smugness if you didn’t know him a tad bit better—no, it’s purely gleeful.

“I did not,” you sputter.

“Oh, but you did,” he all but purrs. And then, much to your horror, he takes on a mockingly high-pitched voice and replicates what you assume is your drunk, alcohol-induced invitation from the night before. “Where are you going, silly? Come inside. Oh Satoru ~ you feel so good. More, Satoru—please! Satoru, you—”

“I do not sound like that,” you screech, glaring at him as one hand still protectively holding the blanket over your chest while the other moves to give him a harsh shove.

He chuckles, flopping back against your mattress as he holds his arm out for you. “No point in bickering over the specifics now. Come here.”

“For what?”

“Weaponized incompetence only gets you so far,” he clicks his teeth, “come, come. We’re going to cuddle before—”

You cut him off firmly. “We are not cuddling. You are going to get dressed while I close my eyes and then you’re going to walk yourself out the door and go home.”

He pouts, giving you a dramatically pathetic look as he murmur, “after I showed you such a good time? Don’t you think that’s a little rude?”

You don’t even remember the time that he supposedly showed you—although, it’s pretty evident that it happened. Very evident, in fact. The clothes on the floor. The slight soreness of your body. The faint bite marks on his collarbone (did you really do that?) and the beginnings of scratches starting at his shoulders.

It’s all….so obvious. So painfully clear that somehow, after a series of events, you’ve fallen prey to the charms of a boy you happen to know pretty well. Unfortunately for you, you also happened to get to know him a little better than you would have liked—and you don’t even have any memory of it.

You glare at him for a moment before muttering, “you should not take advantage of a drunk girl.”

His mouth opens for a second—and it just stays like that. Speechless. It might be the first time you’ve seen him that way, too. (It’s a shame you don’t get to appreciate it more given the circumstances—not a lot of people can say they’ve witnessed Satoru of all people have nothing to say).

“Maybe you took advantage of a drunk guy,” he retorts, huffing, “you know how I get after a drink or two. How do you know you didn’t prey on me?”

“You’re in my bed!”

“Only because you insisted your place was closer!”

You sigh exasperatedly, lying back against your pillow as you rub your temple. He shuffles closer, inching little by little in a comically unsubtle manner until he’s pressed against your side. He’s warm. His skin is soft and something about it feels good enough that you don’t immediately flinch away.

“This is weird,” you whisper. Still, you don’t move. You can’t. It’s hard to pretend like it’s not sort of nice getting to feel Satoru like this—so close and near and yours.

(Is he yours? Maybe not. But getting to pretend for just a moment doesn’t feel all that wrong).

“It’s not so bad,” he murmurs, quietly into the room as he looks around, a foreignly soft look in his eyes.

Just to be annoying, you feign being confused and ask, “what, my interior design?”

“Us,” he purses his lips, glancing at you, unimpressed. “It’s not so bad when it’s just us.”

“I think the alcohol made your brain permanently damaged,” you hum.

He rolls his eyes, scoffing lightly as you try not to smile. Gently, in a way that’s careful and delicate that Satoru usually is not, he snakes an arm around you and pulls you close. And just as carefully, before you can scold him with an undignified scowl, he pulls the blanket up to make sure you stay covered.

You stare at him cautiously, and he leans closer.

“I hate to break it to you, but I’m pretty sober right now. And hungover, so I don’t appreciate you adding to my headache.”

“Rude,” you gasp, shoving at his chest again. He grins, one arm still wrapped tightly around you as he keeps you nice and flush against him.

“What say you to a nice brunch without any alcohol—just you, me, and maybe some coffee.”

Your heart skips a beat. You force yourself to pretend like you hardly care as you shrug and say, “I’d say you’re just trying to ease your guilt for taking advantage of me.”

“Actually,” he says pointedly, “you have to say yes to ease your guilt of taking advantage of me.”

“I say it’s all about perspective,” you crack a grin.

“Well, to put it into perspective for you, we’re getting brunch,” he says firmly, burying his nose into your shoulder.

You ask cheekily, “it’s on you, right?”

“Oh, sure. I guess you’re already perfectly fine with taking advantage of me a second time, huh?”

One night stand with ur friend satoru but the sexual tension has always been so thick it’s easy to cut with a plastic knife

[zorosangell]

hii i just viewed ur intro and omg we have the same favs !! they’re both so silly i love them smm. this idea has been in my mind for like the past month, what would zoro be like with reader who’s the exact opposite of him? she’s super sweet, gentle, patient, etc,..

i can imagine reader speaking for zoro because of how rude he can get, or zoro getting frustrated bc of how kind she is to others but ofc u don’t have to do this, and always take ur time!

⛥ﾟ・。 sweetheart

synopsis: after winning a candlelit dinner for two, zoro tries his best to ask you out... though you don't seem to catch the hint.

cw: i think i got a cavity writing this, fluffy fluff, lovey zoro, in-love zoro, tender zoro, lovesick zoro, sprinkle of jealous zoro, reader's a bit dense (not bimbo territory but close enough), reader is adorable.

a/n: i genuinely believe he would be sooo awkward in a romantic setting. i love suave zoro down bad but awkward zoro holds a special place in my heart

"Zoro, don't let me go!" you squealed, eyes screwing shut as your body went stiff as a board.

"I have to let you go," he chuckled, an amused smirk rising to his lips at your panic. "How else are you gonna learn?"

"No! No, no, no, no! I'm not ready!"

"You can always just stand up if you sink. Ready?"

"No!"

"3... 2... 1—"

"No, I can't do it!"

"Wait, don't—!"

Another shriek of terror ripped from your lips as your hand shot up to grab the swordsman by the arm, yanking him into the water with a large splash as your body began to sink.

Swiftly, Zoro rose to his feet, shaking the salt water out of his eyes as he quickly yoked you out of the shallows by your ankle, raising you up with one arm.

"Did ya have to take me with you this time?" he huffed, brows flattened.

The moment you came up, you took in a large gasp of air, letting out a few harsh coughs as you frantically attempted to catch your breath.

The action banished all playfulness from the man, and instead sent a sharp pang of fear through his chest.

"Hey, hey, hey," he softened, shifting his grip to hold you bridal style, lightly patting your back. "Easy. Did you open your mouth again?"

You nodded, wheezing as you swiped a few soaking strands of hair from your face.

'Nice going, (y/n)...'

The swordsman was supposed to be teaching you how to swim, but now, not only did you embarrass yourself once again—for the fourteenth time, to be exact—but you looked like a drowned rat doing it.

"Oh, gosh, Zoro, I'm so sorry!" you apologized, finally able to speak. "I just got so nervous and before I knew it I was falling and—!"

"Hey, it's alright. That's what practice is for," he assured, carefully lowering you to your feet.

With a sigh, you hopped down, wringing out your hair with an annoyed huff.

It brought a smile to the swordsman's face.

You were so adorable.

Your puffed cheeks.

Your soaked hair.

Your furrowed brows.

You looked like a wet kitten; one he wanted to squeeze and pinch the cheeks of.

"You wanna try again?" he suggested.

"I don't think I can," you sighed, glancing at the setting sun. "It's getting dark and I promised Nami I'd help her out with her hair."

A proud grin found its way onto your lips, Zoro's heart adding an extra beat to its rhythm at the sight.

"She's got a hot date tonight, so me an' Robin are gonna help her pull out all the stops," you released your hair, allowing it to swish past your shoulders. "But you can walk back to the ship with me if you want."

That reminds him...

'Shit.'

"Uh... yeah," he nodded, awkwardly glancing around.

As you continued to fiddle with your strands, he discreetly tugged a flyer and two tickets out his swim trunks, looking over the sopping wet papers for about the hundredth time.

ONE TIME OFFER ONLY: CANDLELIT DINNER UNDER THE STARS

Want to have a special night with a special someone? Want to make magical memories that'll last a lifetime? Enter our island's annual Tournament of Strength!

Whoever can lift the most wins an all-expenses-paid dinner on the beach under the stars!

(Formal attire required. Officials are not responsible for any injuries retained during the competition)

Zoro had competed in the tournament earlier that day, and to say he won by a landslide was an understatement.

He won by a hospital building.

Literally.

He uprooted and bench-pressed the local hospital.

The swordsman knew no one on the little, out-of-the-way island was beating that, and he needed those tickets.

But now that he had them in his hand, a new sensation he'd never known before suddenly introduced itself to his stomach.

Nerves.

Roronoa Zoro... the notorious pirate hunter... the man with a bounty over a billion... the man known throughout the seas for his ruthlessness... was scared to ask out a girl.

It was almost laughable, were he not so frustrated with himself.

'C'mon! It's just (y/n)! Man up and do it!'

With a sigh, he glanced at you, noticing you were still distracted by your swimsuit.

Perfect.

Whistling, he dropped the flyer in the ocean, allowing the waves to slowly carry it toward you.

"Huh?" you raised a brow, feeling something brush against your leg. "A piece of paper?"

Bending down, you picked it up, being mindful of its wetness as you didn't want it to tear.

"Huh? Oh, man. People really need to learn how to pick up after themselves," Zoro nodded, trying and failing to feign ignorance.

'Idiot!'

"Yeah, I can't stand it when people litter," you agreed, completely oblivious.

"Yeah, totally. It's the worst," he rested his hands on his hips. "But... what's the paper? Something important?"

"Nah. It's just an event flyer."

"An event flyer?"

"Yeah, I'm surprised someone dropped it. All the girls in town were gushing about it earlier today."

"Yeah... what do you think about it?"

"I think someone probably got excited and dropped the flyer."

"Not that. What do you think about the flyer?"

"The flyer? Um... I think it's nice. I like the little star designs on the corners."

"No, not that. The—"

"Hey, sweetness," a random man appeared out of nowhere, eyeing you up. "I've been meaning to talk to you."

Turning around, you raised a brow, pointing to yourself.

"Me?"

"Who the hell are you?" Zoro asked, not bothering to extinguish the annoyance in his voice.

"I'm just a guy who'd like to talk to the lady for a moment," he glanced to you, flashing a sleazy smile. "If that's alright?"

"Oh, sure, I guess," you shrugged, turning back to the swordsman. "Be back in a sec, Zoro."

"(y/n), I—"

But the two of you had already walked off, forcing the swordsman to let out a groan of frustration.

None of this would be happening if you just manned up...

'Shut it.'

Not wasting a second, Zoro trailed after you both, hanging back a good distance so you didn't notice him.

You walking off with another man left a bad taste in his mouth, especially given your innately trusting nature.

It wasn't that he believed you couldn't handle yourself, or were weak in any way, he just preferred to be safe rather than sorry.

Besides, he didn't mind acting as your bodyguard.

Enjoyed it, actually.

Other than Luffy, Zoro didn't trust anyone to protect you to the fullest and farthest extent that he did.

And that wasn't even a dig to his crew.

Many just thoroughly misunderstood the lengths this man was willing to go to... the pain he was willing to put himself through, for you.

Except for his captain.

When you and the man finally came to a stop, Zoro stopped as well, watching intently as the two of you talked.

"A date?!" you exclaimed, shocked.

"Yeah, sweetness," the rando nodded, grinning widely. "I've been watchin' you all day, and have been meaning to ask."

"First of all, I would prefer if you'd stop calling me that. My name is (y/n). And second, I don't know you that well...?"

"Mark," he filled in for you.

"Mark... we've just met. And I'm sorry but I just don't really feel comfortable going on a date with you."

"I know that, sweetness, but we could always get to kn—"

As the man's eyes flicked past your head, his blood ran cold, gaze suddenly locked with the first mate of the Strawhat crew.

Zoro was furious, sizing him up with a glare reserved only for those guilty of unforgivable crimes in his eyes.

This crime in particular making the poor bastard deserving of capital punishment.

"Ugh, it's (y/n)," you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest at his failure to listen, completely oblivious to the war going on behind you. "Jeez..."

"Sorry, sweetness!" he blurted, quickly turning around and speed walking away.

"You don't have to apologize for asking, but at least get my name right!" you called after him.

With perfect timing, Zoro walked up to stand beside you, returning your smile to your face.

"Hey! Sorry about that. That guy was super weird," you sighed, turning to him and allowing your shoulders to sink. "I've really gotta get going now. Nami's gonna kill me if I don't help her."

You moved to step around him, about to break into a half-jog/half-sprint.

It was now or never...

"Wait, (y/n)," Zoro stopped you, quickly grabbing your wrist.

You halted, raising a brow and glancing at him with a confused expression.

"Hm? What's up?"

Inhaling through his nose, the swordsman took a deep breath, calming his racing heart.

"That flyer... the one I was asking you about earlier... it was mine," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "I was holding onto it because I wanted to ask you about it."

Intrigued, you completely turned to face him, tilting your head.

"Ask me about it?"

He nodded, a faint tinge of red rising from his neck to his cheeks.

"Why?"

"Well... I won the contest... and got the tickets to the fancy dinner..."

Your eyes widened slightly, becoming starry.

"And I wanted to know if you wanted to... possibly go with me... tonight?"

Tensing his muscles, he braced himself for anything.

A punch.

A scoff.

A harsh no.

But to his surprise, you did none of those things, instead letting out a giddy squeal as you nearly jumped on top of him, throwing your arms around his neck.

"Of course!" you cheesed, utterly over the moon. "Zoro, I'd love to! Oh, my gosh, are you kidding?!"

He instantly wrapped his arms around your waist, a wide grin stretching across his lips as his shoulders sank with relief.

Thank God...

"I have the perfect dress in mind! That blue one I bought in town today! No, wait! The green one! It'll match your hair!"

Suddenly, you gasped, remembering something deathly important.

"Crap! Nami's hair! I forgot!"

Quickly, the swordsman put you down, allowing you to give him a big peck on the cheek before you broke into a sprint.

"I'll see you later tonight, Zo! I can't wait!" you waved, your smile blinding as you began to weave through umbrellas and other beach-goers.

And, if one were to look closely, you could see hearts in the swordsman's eyes.

Zoro had it baaad, no doubt about it.

And he'd gotten to the point where he honestly didn't even care anymore.

He'd allow you to gush all over him and chat to your heart's content if it meant he could see that smile again, and see you so unabashedly happy.

You were a sweetheart, and deserved the world.

And he'd be damned if he didn't try his hardest to give it you.

[multific]

Undercover Sweethearts

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: You were never one for undercover work, but with a partner like the handsome Dr Reid, you had no problem playing your part.

The case was unlike any the BAU had seen.

A killer targeting couples.

Stalking them, studying them, and ultimately murdering them in their homes.

The unsub was careful, leaving no traces except for one chilling detail: each couple had recently attended a romantic retreat, a place meant to renew love but now tainted by death.

Hotch’s solution had you blinking in disbelief and gasping for air.

“Reid and Y/N will go undercover as a couple at the retreat.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“I agree with Hotch,” Morgan chimed in with a grin. “You and Reid are the least expected pair, and that’s exactly why it’ll work.”

Spencer’s eyes widened as he fumbled with his watch.

“Uh, w-wait. Why us? I mean, there are more... seasoned agents for this.”

Hotch’s tone was final. “You’ll blend in the best. And you know the profile. You two are the best for this.”

Your stomach flipped, not from fear but anticipation.

You’d had a crush on Spencer for months.

Working with him was both a privilege and a curse; his awkward charm and brilliant mind made him irresistible.

Pretending to be his lover, his wife?

It felt like a dream come true and a nightmare at the same time.

The retreat was a small lodge nestled in a forest, designed to encourage intimacy with its cosy fireplaces and heart-shaped bathtubs. A bit too much for your taste but hey, at least it was for free.

You and Spencer arrived late, you were greeted by a cheerful coordinator who handed you a single key.

“Mr. and Mrs. Reid,” she said warmly. “We hope this weekend brings you closer together.”

Why must you use his real name? Not even Hotch could answer with a serious face.

And his face is always serious.

The title of wife and husband sent a chill down your spine, but Spencer’s face turned crimson.

Just like that, the genius turned into a fool.

“Uh, thanks. We’re, uh—”

Slipping your hand into his, you played your part and rescued your husband. “Looking forward to it. Aren’t we, Honey?”

Spencer’s lips parted as if to protest, but he nodded quickly.

“Yes. Very... forward.”

You almost wanted to laugh at his nervousness. But you knew, you just hid yours better.

In your cabin, you threw your bag onto the bed, turning to find Spencer standing awkwardly near the door.

“Relax, Dr. Reid,” you teased, leaning against the bedpost. “You’re supposed to act like you love me, not like you’ve been trapped in a room with a bomb.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, offering you a shy smile. “Sorry. It’s just... this is new territory for me.”

“Good thing I’m here to help you,” you joked, crossing the room to straighten his tie.

You couldn’t resist brushing your fingers against his chest.

His eyes moved to yours, wide and uncertain, and for a moment, you forgot this was an act.

But you offered him a smile.

The retreat’s activities were tailored to strengthen bonds.

Consisting of trust exercises, tandem kayaking, and even a “love languages” workshop.

Whatever that was.

You leaned into the role with ease, finding every opportunity to hold Spencer’s hand or tease him with playful whispers.

During a group dinner, you fed him a bite of dessert, laughing when his ears turned red.

“You’re adorable when you’re flustered,” you said loud enough for others to hear.

Spencer stuttered, “I-I’m not flustered. Just... surprised.”

Later, in private, he sighed as he sank into the couch. “You’re really committed to this role.”

You sat beside him, close enough that your knees touched.

“Isn’t that the point? We have to be convincing.”

“You’re... very convincing.”

"Undercover is not my strongest suit. I might be overcompensating."

"No. You are doing... too good." you shrugged your shoulders at his words before heading to the shower.

Maybe you were having too much fun. If he began to notice, you might become obvious that this is not all an act.

On the third day, the tension thickened.

You felt eyes on you during a group hike, and Spencer confirmed your suspicion.

“We’re being watched,” he whispered, his grip tightening on your hand.

The unsub had a pattern, choosing couples who oozed happiness.

Your exaggerated affection had likely drawn their attention. Much like how you planned. Hoping your happiness might bring him out sooner than his previous kills.

That evening, you and Spencer staged a romantic moment by the lake, knowing it might bait the killer.

“You’ve been amazing,” Spencer said softly, his voice laced with sincerity. “I don’t know how you make this seem so effortless.”

You smirked, leaning in. “Maybe it’s not entirely an act.”

Before he could respond, movement in the shadows caught your attention. Your eyes spanned to the bushes.

The unsub emerged, a knife in his hand. Just as you predicted, a white male in his early thirties.

The attack was quick.

The unsub lunged, and Spencer shielded you, wrestling with the attacker.

You grabbed a heavy branch, swinging it to knock the knife from his hand.

Spencer subdued him, his strength surprising you, until backup arrived to take the unsub into custody.

As the chaos settled, and the police took the man away, you sat by the lake, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Spencer was beside you, his shirt torn, and there was a small cut on his temple.

“You’re okay?” he asked, his voice gentle.

“I’m fine,” you said, though your hands were shaking. “Thanks to you.”

He smiled faintly. “You’re braver than I gave you credit for.”

You turned to him, your heart pounding but you couldn't handle it any longer. “Spence, I wasn’t lying earlier. About this not being an act.”

His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean...” You hesitated before forcing the words out. “I’ve had feelings for you, for a while. Pretending to love you wasn’t hard. Pretending it was fake was.”

Spencer’s gaze softened, and he reached for your hand.

“You should’ve told me. I...” He trailed off, then leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was tender and perhaps a bit sloppy.

But it was also perfect.

Absolutely perfect. Like him.

When you pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours.

“Maybe we don’t have to pretend anymore and it can be real.”

You smiled at his words. It was a promise of something far greater than you could have ever imagined.

Now, you just have to run it by Hotch, but you were pretty certain he chose the two of you for this mission for a reason.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[aquasarsstuff]

Baby Disaster!

General Lilia Vanrouge x Reader

Blurb: Baby faes are are born because of true love. It doesn't matter if the deed is done or not, so what does Lilia does with his baby daughter when his spouse pass the baby to him while they went out?

____

As Lilia held the small hands pawing and grabbing at him and his hair, he couldn't find himself to be annoyed at the little one. It was a rare time for him to spend time with the child due to his job and duties to the kingdom.

When he came back after being deployed, he noticed you were looking a bit weary. He blurted out something having time for yourself, which lead to this situation. He was a bit clueless on what on to do, so you made a list on what he should do.

---

He look at the clock, then at the paper. It was time to feed the baby. It wasn't specified what he should feed his daughter, so he went in the kitchen to whip a dish based on the available ingredients.

He tossed in random vegetables, fruits, and something to the pot until it was full. Then, he let it boil. When he was done, he transferred some of its contents to a small bowl and returned to his daughter's side. He begun feeding her the suspicious violet soup.

The baby on the other hand, didn't flinch and keep swallowing the liquid. Well, this was easier than he thought.

---

It was time for the baby to take a bath. Lilia wipe off the water droplets off his forehead. His daughter got a little handful in the bath. He figured he'll just dry off and change his clothes. That was... until the baby made a face and burp out before christened him with her breakfast earlier.

He stood there in disbelief. His daughter seemed to be amused and started giggling. Looks like he needs a bath too now.

---

When he walked out of the bath and went to check on the baby, she was already gone on the crib he left her on. His blood ran cold. His mind spiraling from scenaries to scenarios worse than the last.

He was literally one step away from leaving the house with a weapon in tow when he notice one of the cupboards opened in an unnatural way. He checked it out, and there was his baby. He grumbled in annoyance, but he firmly held the baby in arms this time.

---

When you finally came back home, the house was still in one piece. You peeped at the kitchen. You swore there weren't black spots in the wall before. And was there something moving in the pot? You'll let him handle that later.

You checked every room in the house until you find the two. You found the two sleeping on the floor: Lilia was holding the baby on his chest while he was in an awkward position. You didn't have the heart to wake him up, so you just put a blanket over them.

____

I have no idea how to take care of a baby. Why did I write this 🤣🤣🤣 BTW, I wrote this with the idea that the baby was made, not because they did something, but because there was only one bed 😂😂😂 I just didn't specify it above lol

[leighbaye]

I AM ABSOLUTELY LOVING THE MIKE WHEELER X POPULAR GIRL READER LIKE NEHEHDNDHD

its so cute i exploded

We need more 🤌

(I ask respectfully 🙇‍♀️)

— A DREAM WITH A CHEERLEADER

written by mina leigh ୨ৎ , mike wheeler𝔁 f! reader | wc 1700

summary. mike wheeler, a shy and awkward member of the hellfire club, has been harboring a massive crush on you ever since he first saw you cheering at one of lucas’s basketball games. despite his insecurities, his friends max and dustin help him gather the courage to talk to you. with their advice and a bit of luck, mike might finally close the gap between his daydreams and reality.

labels. cheerleader reader, feminine reader, use of y/n, shy and awkward mike, hellfire mike, reader is into it though.

warnings. mild language, social anxiety, fluffy awkwardness.

‧₊˚ ୨୧ mina speaks. based on faye webster’s song “dream with a basketball player.” merry christmas those who celebrate & happy new year.

i saw you first during lucas’s game last month. you were standing at the edge of the court, wearing your cheer uniform, waving your pom-poms in sync with the rest of the team. but for me, you didn’t blend in — you stood out. the way you smiled, like it didn’t matter if your team was losing or winning, it hit me. i couldn’t look away.

since then, it’s been … bad.

❝dude, you have to stop staring,❞ dustin said during lunch one day, waving a fry in front of my face. i blinked, realizing i’d been watching you across the cafeteria again. ❝it’s borderline creepy at this point.❞

❝i’m not staring,❞ i muttered, looking down at my tray, heat rising to my face.

shit, max is here. why did she decide to sit with us today?

max, sitting next to him, rolled her eyes. ❝no, dustin’s right. you’ve been mooning over her for weeks, mike. either do something about it or stop whining.❞

❝just because i don’t sit with you everyday doesn’t mean i can’t see how obvious you are drooling over her.❞

❝i’m not whining,❞ i protested, but they both gave me a look. i groaned, slumping forward. ❝it’s not like she’d ever go for someone like me, okay? she’s …she’s perfect. and i’m just —❞

❝a nerd?❞ max supplied helpfully.

❝thanks,❞ i grumbled.

dustin leaned in, lowering his voice like he was about to deliver some top-secret intel. ❝listen, y/n’s cool. cooler than you, sure. but she’s not, like, untouchable. she talks to lucas all the time, right?❞

❝lucas is on the team.❞

❝exactly. so you already have a connection.❞

max smirked. ❝just go up to her and say, ❝hi, i’m mike, and i think you’re really pretty. want to hang out sometime?❞ see? easy.❞

❝not easy,❞ i muttered. ❝she’d laugh in my face.❞

❝or,❞ dustin said, ❝she might not. look, dude, the worst that can happen is she says no.❞

i didn’t want to admit it, but they were right.

it took another week — and a shit ton of convincing — but eventually, i agreed to let them help me.

max decided the best plan was to catch you after school when you weren’t surrounded by your cheer squad or basketball players. i was already regretting this.

we spotted you at your locker, stuffing books into your bag.

❝okay,❞ max whispered. ❝just walk up and say hi. be normal. don’t overthink it.❞

❝don’t overthink it,❞ i repeated under my breath. easy for her to say. my palms were sweaty, and my heart was pounding like i’d just run a mile.

i approached slowly, each step feeling heavier than the last.

❝uh, hey,❞ i blurted out when i reached you. smooth. real smooth.

you looked up, surprised but not annoyed. ❝oh, hey. mike, right?❞

you knew my name? that alone nearly made me short - circuit.

❝yeah, that’s me,❞ i said, my voice cracking slightly. i cleared my throat. ❝uh, i just … i wanted to say hi.❞

❝hi,❞ you said, smiling. ❝how’s it going?❞

❝good! great. i mean, yeah. you?❞

you laughed softly, and it was the nicest sound i’d ever heard. ❝i’m good. tired, though. practice was brutal today.❞

❝yeah, i bet,❞ i said, nodding like an idiot. then, before i could chicken out, i added, ❝so, uh, i was wondering if … maybe you’d want to hang out sometime? like, get a milkshake or something?❞

your eyebrows raised, and for a second, i thought i’d made a huge mistake. but then you smiled again, and it felt like the sun had come out.

❝sure, mike. that sounds fun.❞

❝really?❞

❝really,❞ you said, pulling a pen from your bag and scribbling your number on a scrap of paper. ❝call me, okay?❞

i nodded, speechless, as you handed me the paper and walked away.

later, dustin and max found me standing in the same spot, still holding the paper like it was a golden ticket.

❝you did it!❞ dustin cheered, clapping me on the back.

max smirked. ❝told you it wasn’t that hard.❞

maybe it wasn’t. but to me, it felt like a miracle.

© MINA LEIGH 2023 - 2024

[artmsdoll]

you always knocked first ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

a maki fic in which he catches reader in just her panties and a hoodie... and stuff goes downnnnn

content : NSFW writing abt maki (if that makes u uncomfortable pls dni), soft dom!maki x sub!fem reader, unprotected sex (cover your stump before you hump plsss), other members make an appearance, reader is friends w/ members, reader has a crush on maki, implied fingering + creampies, ass + tit grabbing, making out on the counter, swearing... (i think thats it pls lmk if i forgot anything LOL)

wc : 2065 (guys i kinda went crazy)

a/n : yall this is my first time writing ff ever so if its bad and cringe im sorry #itriedmybest💔 i did have a lot of fun though so maybe expect more from me later.... (also also feel free to leave me recs!!)

it was that time again when you’d have your weekly sleepover with your close friends. it was already pretty late, you and all the members had your fun on the karaoke machine, and yuma was already half asleep on the couch while the others were deciding between themselves who was gonna wake him up. your regular hangouts always took place in the boys' dorms, who were always mindful of you being the only girl and arranged themselves so you could have a room to yourself.

the members had always been super considerate and always made you feel safe around them. whether it was triple knocking before entering your room to make sure you weren't mid-changing, or checking in with you after doing so much as lightly touching you to make sure you didn't feel uncomfortable, you always felt like a little sister to them.

despite this, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren't even the slightest bit attracted to maki. whenever you would sit next to him in the car and your thighs and shoulders were touching, or you sat under the same blanket during a movie night and you could feel his warmth, you felt a pit in your stomach and your cheeks heating up. you, however, made a vow to yourself that you wouldn't act on anything to not make it awkward for the others.

after all of you got ready for bed, you wished all the boys a good night and retreated to your room. once you were by yourself, you could finally change into something more comfortable to sleep in, wearing only your lacy thong that made your ass look so good and a hoodie.

after the night you had, you fell asleep so fast, but after a couple hours of deep sleep, you woke up feeling really thirsty not just for water. you sat up in your bed for a minute, questioning if it was worth putting pants on just to get water. after some pondering, you figured you’d just be a second and went down the stairs as you were.

you tried to be as quiet as you could be so as to not wake up the members and let them see you in this state. you quickly got your glass of water and chugged it. thinking you were in the clear, you went to fill up your cup again, but of course a couple ice cubes had to fall to the floor making a loud clanking noise. you stood there a moment thinking you went unnoticed and turned around to head back to your room, only to see a broad figure in a t-shirt and sweats standing a couple feet from you that could only be maki.

“you okay?” he said with a concerned whisper that made your heart melt. and pussy we-

“yeah, i was just getting wate—OH MY GOD… sorry.” you remembered mid-sentence the state you were in and frantically tried pulling your hoodie down, to no avail, as your legs and ass were still on full display.

“you're good, i can barely see anyway, if that makes you feel better.” he chuckled, still standing a bit away from you.

“i guess…” you knew he was lying because with the light from the oven's clock and the full moon that was right outside the window and right in front of him… it was hard to NOT see everything.

“i thought i heard something, so i’m just glad you’re okay. look, i’ll go back to bed and pretend i saw nothing.”

there he went again with his good manners, but as he turned around, you could feel him looking you up and down one more time. it was a split-second decision, but you muttered out a quiet “wait… i don’t actually mind if you see me like this.”

“hmm? what was that?” he turned back around with an unreadable look on his face that could either mean he was concerned, amused, or confused.

“oh, it was nothing, don’t worry about it.” by this point, you couldn't even look in his direction.

“no really, i wanna hear what you said again.” he said, this time stepping closer towards you to where there were only a few inches in between you two.

“uhm, i was just saying how, uhh, i don't mind if you see me like this because we're so close and i know you'd never think anything about it… yeah.”

what a lame excuse.

“hmm, is that so…” he was so close now that you could feel the warm air coming out as he spoke. you could also feel his gaze locked on you while you stared at the floor.

“it’s not like you’d ever see me as anything other than some girl that hangs out with you in your friend group…” you said under your breath with an awkward giggle.

his warm hand then lightly brushed under your chin and lifted your head up so you were directly looking at him in his sleepy brown eyes. “i can’t promise anything, especially after this." he whispered in your ear after eyeing your lower half again, sending shivers through your whole body.

maybe it was because of the way he said it or what he said, but without thinking, you leaned into his ear and whispered back, “me neither.”

before you even had time to think, his mouth was in yours and yours was in his, while both of his hands rested right on your ass and your arms wrapped around his neck. your lips were moving slowly, but you could feel the hunger as you both tilted your heads to savor each other more.

you stayed in this position for a moment until he scooped you up effortlessly and put you up on the counter, wrapping your legs around him. the cold marble sent a shiver up your spine, but you felt so good. you'd been waiting for this forever, and the way he was kissing you and touching you so delicately, you're sure he had too.

one of his hands made its way to your bare chest under your hoodie and gently started playing with your nipple, slowly moving to your whole tit. you were no better than him, your hands feeling him up from his muscly arms, to his neck, to his face. both of you letting out soft moans with almost every breath you took. you could feel his bulge growing through his pants and softly making contact with your crotch, which only made you want him more.

his mouth found its way to your neck, kissing it so tenderly and even sucking a little, just enough to make you moan, but not to the point of leaving marks for everyone to see in the morning.

since you had already committed to this, what was stopping you from taking it a step further?

you found a moment to pull away from his lips and whimpered out, “take me to the bedroom...please.” looking up at him with big, almost desperate eyes.

“you sure? i don’t wanna force you into anything just cause we’re in the moment now.” he answered with a concerned but sweet look on his face.

“mhm, i’m so sure.” you hummed out, your hands still around him.

that was all the confirmation he needed. he lifted you up with ease once more and tried his best to quietly make it up the stairs and into your room, that was actually his shared room with euijoo. he softly laid you down on the bed and quickly turned around to make sure the door was closed behind him.

he then took your hoodie off, exposing your perfect tits to the air. not wanting to leave you bare by yourself, he took off his shirt in one swift motion. his perfectly toned upper body that you’d always admired from afar on full display just for you.

your cute black panties were now impossible to ignore, and maki wasted no time to tuck them to the side and slowly start to run his large fingers in your already wet folds, his thumb going over your sensitive clit a few times.

if this was going where you thought it was, you couldn't help but think to yourself “thank god.” cause even though prior to this you had just been friends, you’d be lying if you said you never took a peek when he was in boxers or in any situation that would allow you to see his member. and the bulge you felt earlier was just confirmation that his build was not the only thing that was huge.

after a few minutes of getting you prepped, the thong had to go... and so did his pants. he pulled out his hard dick that was just as big as you'd imagined, tip already leaking precum. you took a big inhale as he aligned his tip with you and slid it in, your juices making it nice and easy. he proceeded to bottom himself out, thrusting into you at just the right speed and hitting all the right spots as your tits bounced up and down.

you couldn't keep your hands off of him, and you were fighting demons not to moan out his name. having to resort to whimpering in the crook of his neck and holding onto his arms tighter. because if you were gonna be doing all this while the members were no further than 5 meters away, the least you could do is not cause a scene.

the two of you kept going at it, thrusts getting more and more intense as you both approached your climaxes. all throughout, maki couldn't stop praising you, telling you things like “you’re so perfect,” “i love you,” “you’re doing so well for me, my girl.”

it was only seconds later that you felt the knot in your stomach come undone, surrounding his cock in your sweet juices and holding onto him hard one last time so as not to make a sound. his pace quickened once more, signaling that he was gonna cum soon too.

“is it okay if i—” he looks at you with begging eyes.

“of course.” you cut him off with a sweet smile on your lips.

almost instantly, you felt his warm cum filling up your tight walls as he laid on top of you for a bit, kissing you all over your pretty face and sweetly holding your hand. you were both exhausted, but that didn't stop him from getting up and speeding to the bathroom to get you some water and a towel to clean you up.

after a short while of just laying there and cuddling with occasional pecks on each other’s faces, he broke the silence by whispering, “how long have you been waiting.. for this?”

you whispered back in a mocking tone, “way too long! i was ready for nothing to ever happen, but i'm so happy we got that out of the way.”

“mhm, i'm glad too.” he answered, his voice clearly a little sleepy.

you jerked up for a second. “what the fuck are we gonna tell the others?!”

barely awake, he answered, “mmmm, that’s a problem for tomorrow.” holding onto you tighter until you both eventually fell asleep in each other’s arms.

you woke up the next morning still intertwined with maki, who looked so peaceful. you lightly kissed his pretty lips, trying not to wake him up. you could hear kei downstairs making breakfast, so this time, you put your pants on and headed down. euijoo and nico had also already woken up and greeted you as they saw you walk into the kitchen. you tried your best to act normal, hoping they hadn’t noticed maki missing from their room, but you could tell they knew something was up.

after a bit of awkward silence, maki came down the stairs and sat opposite to you at the table. it was only then that kei turned around and said, “good night, you two?” almost mocking you guys. at that moment, you wanted to shrivel up and die. euijoo followed with, “i'm just glad someone else was dealing with him snoring next to their ear all night! but i don’t know what’s worse- that, or the sound of you two fucking…”

you both looked at each other, giggled, and then profusely apologized.

[hyuckysunflower]

Our Messes

Omg so after not writing for YEARS I am finally back. So I've never written anything suggestive, like ever actually but I've been doing lots of research sooo please let me know if its underwhelming or if there's anything I can do to improve my writing!!

Paring : BFF!Haechan X YN/Reader

Genra : Smut (MINORS DNI)

Warnings : Drinking, Majority mutual maturation

Word Count : 2k

You’ve drank with Haechan plenty of times before. He was your drinking buddy. One of the only ones that could keep pace with you. Tonight wasn’t anything different. You both decided to go over to his place to just hang out, the semester had just wrapped up and you were both ready to sit back and rewind.

“Can you bring me another mixed drink? Prettttty please with a cherry on topp?” you slurred out with a little giggle. You were feeling flushed. It had been a few hours since you both started drinking. You can tell Haechan was getting a little tipsy too. On his way to the kitchen he was swaying his hips and moving his hands back and forth, doing a little dance.

After he brought back your drink, you took a big gulp and relaxed on his couch. You both fell into a steady conversation of anything and everything above. “Okay, okay. What's the weirdest porn you’ve ever jerked off to?” you asked him with a giggle. Sex isn’t an uncommon topic between you two. You went to him after you lost your virginity to tell him about it. And in return he told you about all his hook ups. It wasn’t awkward between you two. 

“Fuck, I don’t know what it was called but the whole thing was awkward as fuck.” He patted around on the couch for the tv remote before finding it and clicking on the tv. “It wasn't even like one of those amature videos where they’re just enjoying themselves. They both just stood there and made eye contact with the camera, threw in some out of place agent roleplay, and then they started touching each other. It was so stiff.” He chuckled before pulling up porn hub. You both talked about your sex lives pretty often, but you’ve never watched porn together. Your heart sped up a bit but you let go of the thought, blaming it on you both being drunk.

“No way! Do you have a premium account? Dude what? You get enough action. I doubt you need it! It’s just a waste of money Haechan!” you bent forward laughing, grabbing your stomach. He held his hand to his chest in mock hurt.

“No, it’s actually so helpful. For one I can see my history so that I can go back and rewatch the stuff I like, and two, how do you think I keep the ladies coming? In more ways than one,” he smirked and wiggled his eyebrows. You giggled and held your hand over your mouth.

“I was guessing your ruggish good looks, “ you mocked. He shook his head, a playful smirk still on it. He scrolled through his history, coming up to one with a cheesy title before his eyes lit up and he pointed at it. “Oh my god, Saving ‘Private’ Ryan? Really?”

“Oh yeah, that’s the one.” He clicked on it before some royalty-free music started to play on the title screen. The video opened up to two people, the woman already naked standing and staring at the camera. There was a brief pause before the woman started to talk.

“Ooh,” she moaned out exaggeratedly before turning to the man who had boxer briefs on. “Ryan! Your privates,” she paused to look at the camera, “they’re stuck in your underwear, I need to save them.”

“Oh my god Haechan. How the hell did you stumble across this let alone masterbate to it,” you paused as the lady on the screen pulled down the man’s briefs, pulling out his cock. ‘I need to give it CPR’ you hear her say before rolling your eyes with your hand pointed out to it. “what a masterpiece,” you deadpanned.

“What are you even talking about? I was doing research for roleplaying okay? Sue me for wanting to be knowledgeable,” he emphasized the syllables. You shook your head hiding your entertained smile. Your body felt like it was on fire. “Okay, do you have any BETTER videos oh wise one?” he tossed the remote to you, it smacked your thigh, leaving a red mark in its place. You glared at him but there was no bite to it. You went to the search bar typing in some words before results started to pop up. “Oh my god Y/N, you’re a stepbro truther?” he eyed you skeptically, but there was some underlying look you couldn’t pick up on.

“Okay don’t jump down my back Haechan,” you rolled your eyes. “Some of them have decent acting, okay? This one pulls off the taboo part of it so well actually,” you clicked on a video that was familiar. Everything went quiet as you both focused on the video. The overheating feeling you felt earlier only seemed to get stronger. You still felt light headed from the drinks you had. Speaking of, you leaned forwards to grab your drink off the table. You missed the look Haechan throws at the exposed skin of the back of your thighs. His eyes focused on how they stuck a little to his leather couch. You were wearing some short pajama shorts, anticipating a sleepover that usually happens after you guys drink, and a tight take top that he noticed hugged the curves of your boobs in all the right places.

In hindsight, you probably shouldn’t have put something on that you frequently watched whenever you had alone time. You crossed your legs, thighs rubbing together to soothe the aching that started in your core. You could already feel how your panties stuck to you with the wetness that had undoubtedly started to leak out. You glanced over at Haechan, not turning your head. He was staring intently at the screen, his chest rising and falling a little quicker than usual. You looked down to his lap. He had his hand resting on his thigh, fiddling with the hem of his basketball shorts. That's not what caught your eye though. It was the bulge that was unmistakable. You quickly shot your eyes back to the TV, trying to get your eyes to focus on anything else besides your best friend’s dick.

Haechan let out a low groan. You almost didn’t hear it over the sounds from the TV. You would’ve thought it came from the video if Haechan didn’t adjust himself, his hand hovering over his boner. “You’re right Y/N,” his voice sounded husky saying your name. Your thighs tightened. “The acting isn’t bad. Her facial expression is so hot,” he laid his head back, resting it on the back of the couch, looking down to continue watching the video. “You can tell she’s tight as fuck the ways she’s sucking him in,” His eyes glazed over. Hand twitching in his lap, trying to refrain from palming himself.

Your heart sped up. You guys talk pretty vulgar all the time. But this? This was different. You guys have never actually talked this dirty together and meant it.

“See?” It came out in an exasperated gasp, “So much better than the one you put on,” He nodded his head focusing on the screen ahead. You grabbed the throw blanket that you leave at his apartment for sleepovers and draped it over your legs. Even though you were so overheated, you needed to put something on you to not make it how obviously turned on you were. You held your thighs, gripping them with your fingertips, the heel of your hand rubbing against your clit slightly. You exhaled a sigh as it alleviated a little bit of the pressure building in your stomach. You focused on the video just in time for the guy to manhandle the girl, flipping her to knees and holding his hands on her lower back, pinning her in place. A whine escaped your lips as you moved your fingers to play with yourself a little more. “That’s my favorite part,” you whispered, eyes squinting a bit as you try to control your voice and facial expressions. “The guy I was with was so gentle, but I kept hoping for something like that.” You didn’t even realize what you were saying. You were just speaking your thoughts.

Haechan’s eyes rolled back slightly at the mental image of pinning you down and drilling into you until you were a fuck out heap on his sheets. He won't lie and say he's never looked at you with a wandering eye, but he valued your feelings and your friendship too much to make any moves on you. 

He glanced at you and saw you covered under the blanket. Disappointment sparked when he realized he couldn’t stare at one of his favorite spots on you, your thighs. That was until he saw the little quivers and shakes your arms and legs did. He looked at your face and saw how flushed you were, your hair sticking to your forehead slightly, your pupils blown wide as you watched the scene in front of you. He noticed how your eyebrows pinched together when your legs especially shook.His self restraint broke as he gave in and started to palm himself through his basketball shorts.

The video ended as you both stared at the blank screen. You held out the remote to Haechan, your voice airy. “You can pick the next one.” You didn’t question why you wanted another video to watch and neither did he. He grabbed the remote from your hands, his fingers brushed against your palm. Electricity shot up your arm, you both locked eyes for a moment before you looked down to his lap where he was rubbing himself. “You,” you paused for a moment gathering the courage, anticipation in the air. “You can take it out if you want.”

He smirked but complied, eyes heavy and barely focused. He slipped his fingers underneath the band of his shorts and shimmied them down his thighs taking his boxers with it. Once free, his member sprang up, hitting his navel. You’ve never seen him naked. You’ve seen him shirtless yeah but never like this, but somehow he was bigger than what you figured. His beautiful honey skin was damp with sweat. His thighs flexed as he grabbed himself with his hand, giving it a few tugs and letting out a breathy sigh. He clicked a video, one neither of you guys had seen. There was no point to it. Neither one of you were focused on the video, both of you stealing sneaky glances at the other when you thought they weren't looking.

Your hand was completely in your shorts now, underneath your panties. Your finger slipped around rubbing friction against your night ball of nerves. Your legs were completely spread open as you chased your high. The blanket slipped off one of your legs exposing your bare thighs as they flinched with each roll off your fingers. Haechan was lost in the new exposed skin, zeroing in on where your hand laid in your shorts moving. He threw his head back and laid it to the side watching, his hand moving to match the pace and rhythm of your tight circles.

He looked up towards your face, flushed and beautiful. Your eyes were tightly shut, eyebrows drawn together. A few seconds later your shoulders shook with your climax as you let out a slow whine, your head leaning against your shoulder as you eased through the end of your release. Haechan felt his stomach light up in fire watching you fuck yourself through your release. He felt his following quickly.

You opened your eyes to a breathtaking sight. Haechan had his head relaxing back against the couch, eyes gently closed with his mouth hanging open with quiet moans coming out. You watched how quickly he stroked himself. His shoulders tensed before he let out a long drawn out high pitched moan. His eyes met yours before he climax, his cum shooting to his stomach hitting it and spilling over his fist that held himself tight.

It was quiet for a few minutes. Just you two catching your breaths staring at each other and the messes you’ve made. You were the first to break the silence. You chuckled, letting out a huff. “What type of drink did you get me?” you joked and he laughed a breathy one.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I grabbed things from the liquor cabinet and hoped for the best,” He pulled his shorts up, cringing at the mess he made on himself. “Let me grab something to clean ourselves with. Then we can lay down for the night.” He grunted as he got up on the couch. You watched him as he walked away. The start of anxiety forms in your belly. How are you guys going to talk about this? How should you even address it?

All thoughts flew out of your mind as Haechan came back from the kitchen, minus a shirt with a goofy grin on his face. You smiled at him. You guys could figure this out later. Right now, you just want to keep in the moment smiling and laughing together.

[rulerofstars]

they both (have feelings) reached for the gun

oneshot: chase has always known how to push your buttons back in med school, he loved to get under your skin. but now, working together at princeton-plainsboro, things got a bit. . . different. the rivalry cools, and something warmer takes its place. based on the song we both reached for the gun.

pairing: robert chase x reader

tags: slowburn, enemies to lovers trope, fluff (?)

You were used to coming out on top in med school. For as long as you could remember, your academic achievements defined you, and nobody threatened that more than Robert Chase. He was just as competitive, sharp, and ambitious—always one step ahead or right beside you, depending on the day. But unlike you, Chase seemed to coast on some innate charm, always managing to make his successes seem effortless.

It irritated you to no end.

“Another perfect score, huh?” Chase’s playful voice pulled you from your thoughts as he slid his exam sheet onto the desk next to yours. He flashed that casual, smug grin that you had come to know all too well.

You clenched your jaw. “Looks like it,” you said, glancing at his score. Of course, he had aced it too. “Though, I wouldn’t call it ‘perfect’ just yet.”

“You always have to find a flaw, don’t you?” Chase leaned back in his chair, his Australian accent making his words sound more laid-back than they deserved. “Not everything’s a competition.”

“Only with you,” you shot back before collecting your things and leaving the lecture hall.

You didn’t expect to see him again years later. After graduation, you went your separate ways, and frankly, you were glad to leave him in the past. But fate had other plans.

The first day at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital was already nerve-wracking, and when you saw Robert Chase’s familiar figure walking down the hall, your stomach did a flip. He looked older, sharper even, with his blond hair slightly disheveled in a way that made him look more approachable, yet just as infuriating. His eyes landed on you, a flash of surprise crossing his face before it softened into something more unreadable.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered under your breath.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Chase said, stopping in front of you with a small smirk.

“I could say the same,” you replied, trying to keep your cool. You were not going to let him fluster you. Not now.

For a moment, there was an awkward silence. You shifted, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you both waited for the other to say something. Finally, he broke the ice. “So, how’ve you been?”

“Fine. Busy,” you answered vaguely. “Looks like we’ll be working together now.”

“Looks like it,” he echoed. There was a brief pause before his eyes flickered over you. “I’d say it’ll be just like old times, but somehow, I think things might be a little different now.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”

Chase smiled—a softer, less smug one this time. “I guess we’ll find out.”

Working with Chase was exactly what you expected: maddening. He was still brilliant, still effortlessly charming, and still found ways to get under your skin. But this time, something was. . . different. It wasn’t just rivalry anymore. There was a strange tension between you, the kind that made your heart race when he stood too close or leaned over your shoulder to point something out during rounds.

“You’re overthinking it again,” Chase said, pulling you from your thoughts as the two of you reviewed a patient file one evening. House, has once again, left his paperworks for the both of you to finish. You glanced up, your eyes meeting his in the low light of the office. He was standing closer than usual, and you could feel the heat radiating from him, you could smell his cologne— God, you could feel him.

“I’m not overthinking,” you protested, though the slight waver in your voice betrayed you.

Chase chuckled softly, the sound low and intimate in the quiet room. “You always do. It’s one of the things I… admire about you,” he said, his voice dipping at the end, almost as if he hadn’t meant to reveal that last part.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. “Admire?”

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze dropping to the file in your hand before looking back at you. There was something unspoken between you, something that had been building for quite a while now. And in that moment, it felt like everything hung in the balance.

“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “Admire.”

Your breath hitched slightly, and for the first time, you didn’t feel the need to fire back with a sarcastic retort. Instead, the room filled with a quiet tension, one that was as familiar as it was new.

Chase’s eyes lingered on yours a second too long before he cleared his throat and took a step back, the spell broken. “Anyway,” he said, his usual demeanor slipping back into place, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t stay up too late.” He flashed you a quick smile before heading toward the door, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding in your chest.

The next day, you found yourself back in the break room, pouring a much-needed cup of coffee. You were still trying to process your feelings about Chase when he walked in, a lopsided grin on his face.

“Look who it is—Miss Perfect,” he teased, leaning against the counter. “You’re up early today.”

“Please, it’s called being responsible,” you shot back, trying to keep your tone light. “Not all of us can coast by on charm and good looks.”

Chase raised an eyebrow. “That’s rich coming from the person who aced the last exam while I was busy trying to save a patient.”

“Are we really going to do this again?” you sighed, setting your coffee down. “Can’t you ever just let it go?”

He leaned in, his expression turning serious. “Not when you keep insisting on making everything a competition. Maybe it’s time we talk about it instead of arguing.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Talk about what? Your inability to accept that I’m better than you?”

“Or your inability to admit that you actually enjoy the challenge,” he shot back, crossing his arms. “You thrive on it, just like I do.”

The tension in the room escalated as you both squared off. “You think I thrive on competition? I’ve worked hard for my grades, Chase. You think it’s just a game to me?”

“No, but you treat it like one,” he retorted, frustration creeping into his voice. “You’re so focused on beating me that you forget we’re supposed to be on the same team now.”

“Don’t act like you’re some sort of saint,” you replied, frustration bubbling over. “You’re the one who always wants to one-up me.”

“Maybe because I want you to see that I’m not just some arrogant jerk. I actually want to work with you,” he argued, his voice rising slightly.

“And what makes you think I want that?” you challenged, crossing your arms defiantly.

“Because deep down, you know it would be good for both of us,” he said, his tone softening. “And because I don’t want to keep pretending I don’t care.”

The silence that followed was heavy, the air thick with unresolved tension. You both stood there, hearts racing, the realization of unspoken feelings hanging between you. Finally, you broke the silence. “You know what? This is ridiculous. We’re colleagues now, not rivals.”

Chase stepped closer, his expression earnest. “I don’t want to be just colleagues. . .”

Your heart skipped a beat. You hesitated, the walls you had built around your feelings beginning to crumble.

You knew exactly what Chase meant.

You knew because you both were holding onto a thin thread for quite a while. And neither one of you has ever had the courage to break free and see how everything will unravel.

A smile slowly formed on your lips, Chase won in this one.

Before you could respond, House strolled in, as nonchalant as ever. “What’s this? A soap opera I didn’t get the memo about?” He glanced between you and Chase, a knowing smirk on his face. “Are you two finally admitting your feelings, or are you just going to keep throwing insults at each other like five-year-olds?”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile crept onto your face. “What do you want, House?”

“Oh, just making sure the hospital doesn’t turn into a high school drama,” he replied, clearly enjoying the moment. “I need my team to be functional.”

Chase crossed his arms, unfazed by House’s jabs. “And yet, you’re here, interrupting an important discussion.”

“Important discussion? More like a public service announcement for the clueless,” House shot back. “But fine, carry on. I’ll just be out here, waiting for the inevitable awkwardness that’s sure to follow.”

You shot Chase a glare, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement at House’s timing. “Thanks for the support, House,” you said sarcastically.

Chase chuckled, the tension breaking as he leaned back against the counter. “Well, at least he keeps things interesting.”

“Interesting is one way to put it,” you replied, shaking your head. “But this doesn’t change the fact that we still need to talk about our work.”

“Fine,” Chase said, the playful glint in his eyes returning. “Let’s focus on that, but can I at least take you out for coffee afterward? You know, to celebrate our newfound ‘colleague’ status?”

You chuckled then considered it for a moment, the thought of sharing a casual coffee with him igniting a flutter of excitement in your chest. “Okay, but only if you promise not to let it turn into a competition.”

Chase grinned, that familiar spark of mischief lighting up his eyes. “No promises. But I’ll try my best.”

As he leaned closer, a playful banter started anew, the air filled with the kind of electricity that only grew with each exchanged word. In that moment, amid the laughter and jabs, you realized you were finally allowing him in—rivalry and all.

[insidekatmind]

That Girl Is Mine ~ Kylian Mbappé × Reader × Vinícius Jr. (Feat. Jude Bellingham)

Madrid was the city of lights, football, and dreams. The Spanish capital buzzed with fans, paparazzi, and tourists wandering through its charming streets. You were there, an ordinary girl thrust into an extraordinary world. You worked as a sports journalist, but what no one knew—and what you carefully kept hidden—was your secret relationship with Jude Bellingham, the young talent of Real Madrid.

But your life was far from simple. Aside from the secrecy, there was a rather... awkward issue: two of your most famous colleagues, Kylian Mbappé and Vinícius Júnior, seemed to be in a constant battle for your attention.

It was a crisp December evening, and the Santiago Bernabéu was still glowing under the post-match lights. Real Madrid had just won an important match, and as usual, you were busy navigating the post-game interviews. Jude had thrown you a quick, meaningful glance as he passed by. That subtle smile of his was all you needed to feel reassured, even though you had to pretend it was just a casual gesture.

You were packing up your things when Kylian approached you. Still wearing his Real Madrid jersey, his forehead glistening with sweat, his confident and charming smile remained intact.

"Are you sure you don’t want to stick around for a drink with us? I’ve noticed you work too much," he said, his tone low but loaded with a suggestion you couldn’t ignore.

You smiled, keeping your tone professional. "Thanks, Kylian, but I have a lot of work to do."

"Ah, work, work..." he replied, shaking his head. "Sometimes, you need to live a little. You know, there’s so much of Madrid you haven’t seen yet. I could show you the city."

Before you could respond, a familiar voice interrupted the conversation. "Show her the city? Kylian, I don’t think she needs a guide. I’ve lived here longer than you, remember?"

Vinícius had appeared beside you both, a provocative smile on his lips. It was clear he had been eavesdropping on every word. His eyes gleamed with challenge as he looked at his teammate. You, caught in the middle, felt like a pawn in a game you hadn’t chosen to play.

"Vinícius, same old," Kylian replied with a smile, though his eyes betrayed a certain tension. "I wasn’t talking to you, anyway."

Vinícius turned to you. "So, what do you say? The city of Madrid is much more interesting than Kylian can make it seem. We could explore the real neighborhoods, away from the tourists."

It was as if the world had stopped around you. You needed an excuse, fast. "Thanks to both of you, but honestly, I’m tired tonight. Maybe another time."

They didn’t look convinced, but there wasn’t much else they could do but let you go.

Later that evening, you were finally home. Your phone buzzed, and you smiled at Jude’s message.

Jude: "Everything okay? I saw Kylian and Vini hanging around you… I’m jealous. See you tomorrow after training, okay?"

You quickly replied. "Everything’s fine, I promise. See you tomorrow."

Your conversations were simple, sweet, and reassuring. Jude was your anchor amidst the chaos. But the next day, things became even more complicated.

During training at Valdebebas, you were there for a series of interviews. It was impossible to ignore the looks Kylian and Vinícius kept throwing your way as they ran on the field. Even Jude seemed to notice, though he remained focused on his drills.

After the session, Kylian was the first to approach. "You know, yesterday I couldn’t help but notice you always seem distant. Is something wrong? Can I help?"

You were trying to form a reply when Vinícius interrupted, wiping his face with a shirt. "Hey, Kylian, are you interrogating her? Maybe she just wants a bit of peace."

"Maybe you should mind your own business, Vini," Kylian shot back, his tone irritated.

"Guys, please," you intervened, trying to stay calm. "I’m just doing my job."

But inside, your heart was pounding. Their interest was flattering, but also a problem. You couldn’t afford for anyone to find out about your relationship with Jude. And yet, every glance and every word exchanged only heightened the tension.

That evening, as you sat with Jude at your secret spot—a small café hidden in the heart of Madrid—you told him everything. He listened attentively, his face serious.

"I don’t like the way they’re acting," he said, squeezing your hand under the table. "But I understand we can’t do anything for now. I promise we’ll find a way to live all of this out in the open one day."

You smiled at him, feeling safe in his presence. Jude wasn’t just your boyfriend; he was your refuge amidst the chaos of a life that felt like a novel. But you knew the story between you, Kylian, and Vinícius was far from over. And Madrid, with its lights and secrets, was the perfect stage for the next act.

The tension was palpable, like a taut rope about to snap. Over the following days, Kylian and Vinícius’s gestures and attitudes became more explicit. Seemingly innocent comments turned into subtly suggestive remarks, lunch invitations, and lingering glances. Jude, despite his calm and rational nature, had begun to show signs of irritation.

One evening, after a crucial match at the Bernabéu, things came to a head.

After the game, while you were gathering material for an article, Vinícius approached you in the tunnel leading to the locker rooms. He was still sweaty, but his mischievous smile was flawless.

"So, have you thought about my invitation? I’ll take you somewhere no one knows, guaranteed. Just you and me, no distractions," he said, his tone a bit too familiar for your liking.

Before you could respond, Kylian appeared behind you both, interrupting the conversation. "Ah, Vini, aren’t you tired of playing the romantic? Sorry for you, but I think her time is already booked for the evening."

You sighed, trying to stay calm. "Guys, enough with these games. I’ve already told you I’m not interested."

Vinícius laughed, leaning slightly forward as if he found it all incredibly amusing. "Really? You don’t seem that uninterested."

It was then that Jude appeared, striding out of the locker room with a determined walk. He wasn’t smiling. In fact, his face was tense, his gaze a mix of anger and resolve.

"Vini, Kylian, stop," he said, his voice calm but authoritative. Both turned to him, surprised.

Kylian crossed his arms, frowning. "And what does this have to do with you, Jude?"

"It has everything to do with me," Jude replied, stepping closer. He glanced at you briefly before addressing them directly. "She’s my girlfriend. And she has been for a long time. So, with all due respect, you need to stop."

The silence that followed was deafening. Vinícius and Kylian stood frozen, unable to hide their shock. Your heart was racing, but you also felt a sense of relief. Finally, the truth was out.

"Are you serious?" Kylian asked, incredulous. "She’s...?"

"Yes," Jude said firmly, locking eyes with them. "And now that you know, I’m asking you to respect us."

Vinícius looked almost offended. "And you thought to tell us like this, after all this time? Maybe you should have made it clear earlier."

"It wasn’t your business," Jude shot back, his tone hard. "But now you know. Enough with the games."

Kylian ran a hand through his hair, trying to process it all. Then he looked at you, a hint of disappointment in his gaze. "And you? Why didn’t you ever tell us?"

"I couldn’t," you said, your voice firm but calm. "We wanted to keep it private. That doesn’t mean I was playing with you."

Kylian nodded slowly, as if trying to come to terms with the situation. Vinícius, on the other hand, looked less convinced but said nothing. After a few moments of tension, they both walked away, leaving you alone with Jude.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Jude turned to you, his face softening. "I’m sorry, but I couldn’t stand seeing them act like that anymore. They needed to know."

You stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his arm. "You did the right thing. I couldn’t take it anymore either."

Jude sighed, pulling you into a hug. "From now on, no more secrets. I don’t care what people say. What matters is that it’s us."

You melted into his embrace, finally feeling free. Even though you knew the gossip would start soon, you didn’t care anymore. Madrid was full of secrets, but yours was no longer one of them.