#but my favorite jokes are the long winded ones
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taesanrot · 2 days ago
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[songs for women] anton x reader | 0.6k words drabble, musician!anton, best friends to ???, childhood friends au, implied college au, mutual pining note. a short lil thing i found from a few months ago in my drafts <3 wrote it for the beginning of fall. may turn this into a full length fic but i wanted to put this out for now bc i really like it.
now playing: songs for women by frank ocean
"don't even listen to the songs i record, but she be bangin' that drake in my car ... all damn day long, it's like she never heard of me, heard of me."
turning his key in the ignition, anton hears his car engine thrum as it comes alive. the fall air is warm and balmy and you’re sitting in the passenger seat, head propped on your hand as you gaze out the window.
“wanna roll it down?” anton’s soft voice coaxes you back to reality and you turn to look at him with a grin on your face, nodding excitedly. he smiles softly as he watches you turn the handle and let the fresh air into anton’s old four door sedan.
plugging the aux cord into the his phone, anton bumps your shoulder, handing you the glowing screen.
you gingerly take the phone out of his hands, fingers typing away in the search bar of his spotify app to queue a song.
turning towards the road, anton finally eases his foot onto the pedal, and the car’s wheels squeal slightly as he turns out of his driveway into the neighborhood’s winding roads.
the citrus colored leaves bring a fond smile to his face, and the breeze from your open window tickles his face and ruffles his hair.
old memories play through anton’s mind, flashes of long bike rides and pool days with you. you’re weaved into all of the moments he holds close to his heart, and he thinks it’ll always feel this way.
anton doesn’t think the jumps and twists in his stomach when he’s around you will ever fade. not when you smile so brightly at him, or laugh so prettily at his dumb jokes.
the two of you aren’t kids anymore, you’ve outgrown your bicycle helmets and kiddie pools. anton is an upcoming singer and you’re about to graduate college. but somehow whenever you end up in your hometown again, it’s like you’re teenagers again. you spend hours in the old coffee shop that was your favorite studying spot for finals, and you go to the same drive in ice cream parlor.
the song that you handpicked floods anton’s ears as his hand glides across the steering wheel. with a sigh and roll of his eyes, he looks over at you.
“park wonbin again? seriously?” you laugh at his dismay, fingers turning the dial to increase the volume. anton groans in response, his adam’s apple moving under the skin of his neck. your eyes catch it for a second, brain forming an unusually erotic thought at the sight. you’re brought back to earth by the sound of anton’s voice again.
“i’m starting to think you don’t listen to anything else.” tucking some hair behind your eyes, you grin at your best friend.
“what else do i need besides wonbin?”
“you know, other people would kill to be driven around by me, and you refuse to even listen to my songs.” it’s your turn to roll your eyes, but you do so with another cheerful laugh.
“someone’s gotta keep you humble.” you chide, shoving anton’s shoulder playfully.
as anton trains his focus back to the road, he looks over at you one more time, just for him. you’re laying your cheek against the car door and watching the trees pass. the wind sweeps your hair into something of a halo, and the setting sun makes you look like an angel glowing in the sky.
a familiar thought plagues the boy’s mind again. anton wonders if you’ll ever sit down and listen to some of his songs, like really listen to them. maybe one day you’ll see past the playful melodies and soft guitar and hear his songs for what they really are:
love letters to you.
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formylovetodaryldixon · 21 hours ago
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"Catching the fox." Daryl Dixon Imagine.
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(Not my gif!)
Jesus only caused problems since you, Daryl and Rick met him during a run, but that doesn’t prevent you all from having a little fun. (Even if you come home empty-handed)
A/N: Based on what is probably the funniest episode of "The Walking Dead" to me. I wrote this a while ago but I'm posting it for my friend, who actually finds this funny hehe Sorry if this is long and boring :c Spoiler alert: Jealous Daryl is my favorite Daryl! I hope you like it!
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“So… hunky-dunky. Uh?”
In front of you all, an empty, silent road is always pleasant. Nature wasn’t lost after the apocalypse, not completely, and although the green color of the grass disappeared slowly with the passage of time, Mother Nature still retained her place in the world. Sitting by the window in that big truck full of food, the wind pushes some strands of your hair as you breathe in the fresh air. And, sitting in the middle as Rick drives, Daryl glances at you as he checks Denise’s list.
“Don’t…” He says, warning you, making you chuckle. It was the word that Eugene used when he gave Daryl his map, always using fancy ones. At his side as he drives the truck down the hill, Rick chuckles, too. “Why ya never gave me a list?”
You watch the list in his hand and then, you look back at him.
“I think it's impossible to get a high definition TV with surround sound system so I can watch the games again like in those old days. You know, the ones that were on TV before the world went to hell.”
Both men look at you with a funny look, and you look back at the window as the truck approaches that abandoned gas station on the left side of the road. There are papers and trash everywhere, and Rick parks near the gasoline pumps. All of you get out, but since the silent street is free of any walker, you walk around while Rick goes ahead to check the store door.
“We had that shit in our apartment? That round sound thing.”
You chuckle before turning around towards him, smiling innocently.
“Surround sound system, love, and no, we didn’t. We were always fooling around so we never really had time to watch the games. Remember?”
Your words catch him off guard, and his innocent eyes look at you until he understands what they mean. A second later, the boldness shines in his blue eyes and he closes the distance of a few steps between you two. Daryl encircles your waist with his right arm and pulls you gently towards him, his forehead resting against yours.
“Are ya makin’ fun of me, sunshine?”
You shake your head, softly.
“No, but why?” You whisper. “Does that turn you on?”
“Really?” Rick complains, suddenly, closer than you thought he was. “Now?”
You chuckle pulling away from your husband.
“Sorry, bro.” Says Daryl, taking his arm off of you.
Rick looks at you two with a sarcastic expression and raises an eyebrow.
“I regret coming with you two.”
But he is joking and let it go quickly.
On the back of the place, Daryl walks over to the black machine lying in the middle, noticing it was a vending machine turning upside down. Although Denise said it wasn’t of the utmost importance, he wants to go back to Alexandria with a gift for Tara, just because Daryl understood the feeling of trying to do something nice for another person. So, minutes later, Rick rolls over the machine with a chain attached to the truck, and as he gets out and walks towards you two, the glass shows that the interior is full.
“It’s soda and Candy.” Rick says while Daryl removes one of the chains. “Why the trouble?”
“It ain’t a trouble.”
But suddenly, out of nowhere, a man turns around the corner and pushes Rick on his way out, raising his hands in the air as Daryl and Rick take their guns to aim at the stranger, your own hand holding your weapon hidden behind your waist, as a reflex in the face of danger.
The bandana that covers half of his face shows only his pretty eyes.
“Hi.” He is agitated, as if he has run for a long time. “I was just running from the dead.”
“How many?” Daryl asks while Rick steps back to look at the corner of the lonely place, searching for any walkers close by.
“10. Maybe more. I’m not risking it. Once it gets to double digits, I start running.”
Daryl doesn’t trust him, and he keeps pointing at him with his gun.
“Where?”
“About a half a mile back. They’re headed this way. You probably have about…” He wiggles his head, looking for the right number. “11 minutes.”
The distrust doesn’t go away, but Rick is the first and the only one who lowers his weapon.
“Okay, thanks for letting of know.”
“Yes.” The man breathes through his bandana. “There’s more of them than us. Right? Gotta stick together.” He looks at Daryl, due to his gun still pointing at him. “Right?”
Although that stranger appeared from nowhere, he lowers his gun, too.
“You have a camp?” The man asks.
Maintaining the safety of Alexandria was the main thing, and being selective with the new people you all let in was the first rule until you all knew they could be trusted.
“No.” Daryl says.
“Do you?” Rick asks.
The man thinks about it for a second.
“No.” He finally says, and then, he looks at you standing next to them. “It’s just you two, with a woman?”
Before you realize what he meant, Daryl raises his weapon quickly, his hand tightening around it in anger.
“Ya want me to shoot ya, asshole? She’s ma wife and yer gonna say yer sorry.”
The man breathes in and Rick looks at him.
“You better say it now before he shoots you.”
Before looking at you, the man looks at Daryl who was still aiming him with his gun, so the new one does it. You don’t think what he said was an insult, but it was better to follow the situation calmly before Daryl shoots him for real.
“I’m really sorry, madam. I didn’t mean to offend you.” You move your hand in the air to minimize the misunderstanding, telling him it was okay. “Well… sorry for running into you. I’m gonna go now.” He turns around and starts walking, talking over his shoulder. “This is the next world; I hope it’s good to you, guys.”
Daryl and you share a confused look as Rick watches the man walk away.
“I’m Rick, these are (y/n) and Daryl. What’s your name?”
The man turns around again and pulls his bandana down.
“Paul Rovia. But my friends use to call me Jesus…” He extends his arms out, casually. “You pick.”
“You said you didn’t have a camp.” Rick answers back. “You are on your own?”
“Yeah.” He looks at you all with a sudden confidence. “But still, best not to try anything.”
However, Daryl doesn’t seem impressed, or intimidated.
“Best not to make threats ya can’t keep, either.”
“Exactly.” And the man starts running out of there.
“How many walkers–” Rick tries to ask, but Daryl cut him off.
“No. Not this guy.”
However, Rick makes his question anyways.
“How many walkers have you killed?”
“Sorry! Gotta run. You should too.”
And he disappears around the corner.
Running into new people was still strange, but that situation was a new kind of strange, and hard to understand too.
“What the hell was that?” Daryl asks.
“Yeah. He was clean.” Rick nods. “His beard, it was trimmed.”
“And he was way too confident to be just by himself.” You say.
Rick nods again, because if the man is strange to you both, then that is more than just a coincidence then: something else is happening.
“He didn’t have a gun, either.” Daryl frowns, looking down the path Jesus took.
“We could track him.” Rick put away his gun. “Watch him for a while. Get to know him more. See if he’s really alone. Maybe bring him back.”
“No.” Daryl complains, his voice always low and husky. “That guy calls himself Jesus.”
But then, a noise from the front of the place attracts everyone’s attention, the thunderous sound of tires against the pavement.
“Shit.” Daryl says when he realizes the truth. “He swiped yer keys. Didn’t he?”
The moment you all get there; the place is still empty, with the truck full of food moving away up the hill.
“Sorry!” Jesus yells as he drives away, taking the vending machine with him, too.
The three of you stop in the middle of the road, watching with frustration as the truck goes away under your eyes.
“Shit.” Rick says.
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The vending machine leaves a path on middle of the road, like breadcrumbs to track down the thief, until you find it halfway on the way. Daryl opens the case to secure Denise’s sodas for Tara while Rick and you catch your breaths after running up there. The strands of your hair stick to your forehead, while the beads of sweat begin to fall on theirs.
“This is a special request from the doctor.” Daryl says, showing Rick the soda can, opening one to give it to you.
“Hey…” Rick breaths and takes the broken one Daryl gives him. “Whatever she wants. She saved Carl’s life. We didn’t know her, and she turned out to be all right. And If there’s still people out here, and they’re still people, we should bring them in.”
“What? Like this guy?” Daryl points to the road Jesus left.
“No, fuck that guy.” Rick shakes his head and looks inside the machine for something.
You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, your mind full of thoughts about what had just happened, but without saying anything, at least until you can formulate a coherent opinion.
“What’s on your mind, (y/n)?” Rick asks when he sees you looking at the ground.
“Well, I just think that…” You doubt if you should share with them what you are thinking, but it is a waste of time while the truck is still moving. “It’s nothing. We just keep going.”
You try to take a few steps but Daryl stops you reaching out his arm.
“Hey.” He says softly to you. “S’okay, jus’ say it.”
You are not naive; you know how that world works now. Not only were the alive against the dead ones. That life was a battle against other people as well. However, not everything was black and white. Or it was?
“I don’t say that what he did is right, but no one steals for pleasure these days, maybe he did it because he needs it, too.”
Rick wiggles his head slowly, half of him giving you the reason because that is true although nothing apologized what that man did.
“So what?” Daryl frowns, his temper rising again. “Would ya jus’ let him go with our stuff?”
His personality is like a roller coaster, full of constant ups and downs, but luckily, you know how to handle it.
“Don’t talk to me like that, Dixon, and it was you who said I could share my opinion. But I am not saying we should let him go just like that. Hell, no.”
Daryl gives a step back, confused by your sudden change of mood, just like his own.
“So?”
You frown back.
“The truck is ours. And, if in this world the strongest wins, that will be us. So, we will get it back.”
The force in your eyes and the way you look at him catches him completely. But Daryl is no longer shy, and although he likes your privacy as a marriage, he can’t help but tangle his hand in your hair, softly.
“Since when ya are this ballsy, woman?”
Playing, you push his hand away.
“Fuck you, Dixon. I was like this long before I met your ass.”
“I really hate you both.” Rick says, making Daryl chuckle.
“Sorry, bro. S’jus’… she looks so hot right now.”
You chuckled as Rick raises an eyebrow.
“It’s because we ran until we got here. Now, we should get going.”
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At first, you try to be understanding to the request of both men asking you to wait behind the bushes while they surprise the stranger, who just finished fixing the tire of the truck parked in the middle of the road, away from the danger posed by Paul, or Jesus, or whatever he chose to call himself, but you can’t help but compare him to a fox, somewhat elusive, almost slippery as he managed to dodge the blows of Rick and Daryl, who were hit in the stomach and pushed against the truck, respectively.
So, when Jesus turns around, he stops dead with your gun pointed at his face, his hands in the air.
“You would really shoot me in the face just for a truck?”
You tilt your head, taking the safety off the gun your dad gave you for protection before dying.
“No. Not in the face, but in the legs just below the knees so you stop being so slippery.”
He takes a deep breath.
“You wouldn’t do that.”
Behind him, Rick and Daryl raise their own weapons, making you lower your own.
“Oh, trust me, pretty boy, I totally would.”
But suddenly, before you can say more, a walker comes out of the bushes, grunting at you all.
“Do you even have any ammo?” Jesus asks, but Daryl and Rick are already tired of him, and both shoot the walker at the same time. “Okay, again, are you gonna shoot me over a truck?”
“There’s a lot of foot on that truck.” Rick says. “The keys. Now.”
In the end, Jesus gives them the keys and Rick ties his his hands and feet up to leave him there, on a side of the road.
“The knots aren’t that tight.” Rick says to him. “You should be able to get free… after we’re long gone.”
For his part, Daryl growls when he sees that some of the soda cans had crushed during the fight, with all the content dripping from his backpack.
“Maybe we should talk now.” Jesus smiles when Rick walks away.
“Nah.” Daryl walks pass him by and makes you walk with him to the passenger seat. But first, he stops to shake a can and throws it at Jesus. “Here. In case ya gets thirsty.”
When you two get to the passenger seat, Daryl goes up first, and though he has to move to let you go up, too, he takes you by the waist to help you go up to sit between his legs. You are a little surprise by his action, but he just closes the truck door and chuckles as Rick moves the keys around his finger.
“You were right, (y/n).” He smiles at you as he starts the truck. “We are the strongest ones.”
As the truck begins to move, Daryl leans back against the seat and shows his middle finger out the window.
“So long, ya prick!” He yells at Jesus.
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The loud music in the truck accompanies you all the way. As you lean your arm against the window frame, the wind makes your tied hair move back, in a soothing and peaceful way. Daryl’s right hand continues to rest against your waist beneath your t-shirt, holding you against him while everything around is still fine.
“He ain’t that pretty, y’know?” Daryl says quietly over the music, after a long moment of silence.
You frown, turning slightly to look at him.
"Are you kidding with me? Jesus...” But you laugh when Daryl frowns, even though you just said the name of the son of God, not that stranger. "That's not what I meant!"
But before he can answer back, Rick talks first.
“Hey, look at that.” He says, pointing something on the road in front.
A barn. When you get close, the even path changes for an unstable one as you all enter the barn’s lawn, but, out of nowhere, there is a blow that comes from the roof.
“You hear that?” You ask as Daryl lowers all the volume of the music.
“I think that son of a bitch is on the roof.”
And then, Rick is really tired of that fox.
“Hold on.” Rick steps on the brake and the truck stops abruptly, throwing Jesus through the air until he falls in front of you all.
But then, he just gets up on his feet, and runs away. It is ridiculous. It is almost comical the way Rick drives to chase him down the field, but in the end, it is Daryl who has enough of him.
“Motherfu-” Daryl stops himself to take you by the waist, and he moves from under you. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
Before you react or before Rick could stop the car, Daryl opens the door and gets out of the truck to chase after Jesus on foot.
Rick drives near them as you sigh.
“Sometimes I can’t believe I’m married to that man.”
Rick laughs and tries to move the truck to block Jesus, but that elusive fox is more agile, so Rick steps back the truck as Daryl and Jesus swing from side to side in the middle of the field, waiting for one of them to take the first step.
“We should clear the way for them.” Rick says when some walkers around the place start to move too close to them.
You open the truck door, moving away from it, pulling the knife from the sheath of your waist.
“We came to a conclusion, asshole!” Daryl yells at Jesus, still in the middle of the place when he runs away, so Daryl looks at you two before start chasing him, again. “I got him.”
Some walkers were tied up with around another truck, and you and Rick make them fall when they manage to break the rope free.
Back in the truck, Jesus opens the driver’s door and tries to get in, but Daryl grabs him from his jacket and tries to pull him out.
“Come ‘ere, ya little shit.”
No one sees it coming, no one pays any attention, but a walker comes up to Daryl from behind, walking dangerously until it enters Jesus’s view. He raises a gun, watching Daryl without moving.
“Duck.” He says.
Daryl understands it at once and crouches. The bullet flies over him and enters directly into the walker’s head causing it to fall. Daryl looks back and studies the body on the ground before turning back to look at Jesus.
“Thanks.” Daryl breathes out and punches him on the face. “That’s ma gun! Come ‘ere.”
The shot pierces your ears and Rick’s, causing to both of you to look at the truck in the distance, and you two run to them. Daryl tries to pull Jesus out of the truck, but Jesus knocks it into neutral, and the vehicle starts rolling into a pond behind. Daryl jumps out of the truck and Jesus followed him, but his head gets hit with the door and he passes out. When Rick and you finally reach the place, you watch Daryl moving Jesus with his boot as the truck sinks.
You sigh heavily when you all see the last of that truck before it disappears forever before everyone’s sight.
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The new car you all get is old, ironically, but Rick keeps driving through the silent road in the middle of those huge trees. From the backseat, Daryl pushes Jesus who was still pretty unconscious, but his body continues to fall back on Daryl’s shoulder.
“Is he your new best friend?” You tease him, making Daryl groan. “I’m getting jealous, actually.”
“Be quiet, woman.”
“I told you I could go in the back with him.”
“Yeah?” He says. “Over ma dead body.”
Just to annoy him even more, Rick moves the car so that way Jesus’ body would fall back on Daryl. He growls again, pushing Jesus far from him as Rick drives back to Alexandria.
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That same night, Daryl and Rick walk down Alexandria Street back to their homes after leaving Jesus in the basement. He was fine despite the hit, and by now they just had to wait for him to wake up in the morning.
As they arrive at Rick’s house first, it is time to say goodbye.
“It is pretty stupid of us to go out there. Isn’t?” Rick asks as he goes up the stairs of his porch.
“Yep.” Daryl says walking away. “Do it again tomorrow?”
“Yep.” Rick answers watching him go. “Tell (y/n) to come.”
“Hu-uh.” Daryl waves his hand to him.
Two houses away, Daryl goes up the steps to the porch and opens the door to his house. The only light comes from a lamp on the table in the living room, shining with an amber color. Daryl closes the door behind him and watches you come out of the kitchen.
“There’s a couple of sandwiches in case you’re hungry.”
But he just walks towards you while you stop in front of the stairs. You are tired but it had been a funny day in spite of everything, and you laugh when Daryl wraps his arms around your waist to lift you up.
You hold yourself with your hands on his shoulders, your legs around his waist.
“Nah. Jus’ want some time alone with ma wife.”
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angelbitezzz · 9 months ago
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Do either of you have a favorite joke?
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Angel shifts in her seat and clears her throat, crossing her arms. Sans leans in a little bit, already focused.
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There's a pause as Angel waits for the joke to sink in. Sans's face slowly brightens until his grin is stretched wide and genuine, a low, delighted laugh escaping him.
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"which is surprising, given the fact that i'm a skeleton."
"Did you end up picking a favorite joke yet?"
"honestly, i can't even follow that up. you win this time."
"Yay!"
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suosgirl · 5 months ago
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Helloooo! I was wondering if you are taking requests for Wind Breaker?
If yes, can I ask for a story or headcanons about Suo meeting and getting curious (and eventually falling for) a f.reader who is like a princess for Shishitoren?
In my head it would be funny to see Suo challenging and interacting with Choji and Togame (who are already threatening Suo to stay away from the reader). I mean, he can be kind of mean when he wants, and still wear a smile.😆
Thanks for hearing me out!
And let me say, I realllyyyy love the way you write!🩷
Shishitoren's Princess (& Her Guard Dog) | Hayato Suo x Reader
Word Count: 7471
୨ৎ Read me before interacting!
୨ৎ Pairing: Hayato Suo x Reader feat. Shishitoren (literally most of them), Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama, Mitsuki Kiryu, Haruka Sakura, Akihiko Nire
୨ৎ Warnings: mdni, f!reader, manga spoilers, ooc (definitely ooc sorry ah), angst, harassment, swearing, kissing, miscommunication – if I’ve missed one, I apologize + please let me know!
୨ৎ Note: oh my goodness – I'm actually so sorry for how this took me (and how long this is ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა). I loved loved loved this idea so much, and thank you for the sweetest words! I really hope this is somewhere in the ballpark of what you were requesting! Thank you again for the amazing idea! I love you!
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You hadn’t meant to cross over to their territory – truly. It’s just that Togame had mentioned that his favorite Ramune flavor had been out since last night, and Tomiyama had been going on and on about this new snack that just wasn’t available at the usual corner store that you guys frequented, so you found yourself with a mission on your mind and your wallet in your hand.
Pretty, perfect, caring adorable you. With a smile that could heal any scratch and a heart that seemed to never run empty. You were the pride and joy of Shishitoren – their mascot in every sense. 
You knew everyone by name. If someone asked, you could name at least 5 things about each person from the top of your head. You could name their allergies, their likes and dislikes, and even their interests – all because you listened to them.
You were attentive and warm – quick to lend an ear if someone was having a bad day or offer advice if they asked.
And it was scary how well you could tell if they were in the dumps – it becomes a running joke that you have some kind of emotional superpower when it comes to them. It takes just one look, one look before you’re bringing them to a secluded corner and asking them if they’ve got something weighing on their minds.
You knew their personalities, knew their stories, knew their hearts. 
The only time anyone avoided you was when they knew they did something wrong – because they knew you’d be pulling them by the ear and scolding them. And, as much as some of them wanted to get mad, they just couldn’t bring themselves to – because having someone care for them so fiercely was a feeling that not many of them had ever experienced, and from the bottom of your heart you truly cared.
After every fight, they knew you’d be the one to patch them up. Bofurin had the townspeople, sure, but Shishitoren had you. You, who would set up tables in the Ori with every inch of space taken up by ointments, antiseptic spray, gauze – the works. Whatever injury they had, as long as not severe, was taken care of by you. 
If it was serious and required hospital attention, you were the one bringing them there – eyes sharp and tongue at the ready to yell at anyone who dared to treat them differently or deny services.
And these boys … they had the utmost respect for you. You, who had nothing but love to give, never expected a single thing back. You cared for them, genuinely, and saw them as your own brothers to fuss over and worry about and love. 
You were family – and honestly, Togame and Tomiyama were just glad to have met you after their fight with Bofurin. 
You’d moved to this side of town just a little after the whole thing, and when you’d gotten lost in the dark alleys with your phone on 1% and tears in your eyes, it was Tomiyama who walked you home. He’d talked your ear off the whole way, of course, but he was surprised at how you were able to keep up with him. You were actively responding to him, asking questions, keeping the conversation going – and Tomiyama liked that. 
And when you’re delivered safely to your front door, you ask if you can exchange contact info. His eyes light up, and he’s quickly saying yes and that he’d love to hang out with you again.
He doesn’t expect you to reach out to him the next day though, asking if you can give him a thank-you present for going out of his way the day before. 
And when you show up to the Ori, with a bag of assorted goodies in your hands, you’re met with more men than you could count, all with eyes staring wide at you.
They expect you to run away, honestly, because they know what they look like. They know that you’re probably a sweet girl, sure, but they were a gang – plain and simple. A gang working on reform, sure, but a gang nonetheless. So, if you were to drop your little goodie bag in fear and run for your life, well, it would probably be the most appropriate response.
Instead, what you do is gasp, point an accusatory finger at Tomiyama, and exclaim, “WHY didn’t you tell me that there would be more people here?”
You quickly hand him the bag, muttering out an “I’ll be back”, and in less than 30 minutes you’ve got your hands full with 5 more bags, packed to the brim with even more snacks.
With Togame, it takes just a little bit longer for him to warm up to you. Not that he doesn’t already like you – it’s just that he’s, well, a bit more reserved and a bit more quiet and observing (a lot more quiet if we’re comparing him to Tomiyama). 
It’s when, during a fleeting conversation, he mentions that he plays Go with the elderly men at the public bath – and he watches you perk up at his words. Immediately, you’re asking if it would be alright to play with him sometime, and while he’s hesitant, he ultimately says yes at the sight of your bright eyes and wide smile.
He admits that he thinks you’re just bluffing, until you actually plan a day to play, and now you’ve got him thinking that maybe you’re good? Maybe, you’re a secret Go prodigy or something? Maybe you’ve got a secret or two up your sleeve and –
He wipes the floor with you. Absolutely demolishes you. But you’re happy about it, laughing at the result, and he’s confused because you didn’t win? Did you … did you know how board games work?
You’re quick to tell him that you enjoyed it because you got to spend time with him, got to know who he is as a person because of how he played. 
You leave him standing on the street, a bottle of Ramune long forgotten in his hand (his prize for winning) and his mouth open in surprise.
And when you notice he’s not next to you anymore, you turn around with a smile on your face as you ask, “Don’t you feel that you know me a little bit better too?”
Yeah, they were glad that you got to see them as they were now, with hopes and dreams and emotions. They don’t dwell on the idea of you meeting them before then – they don’t want to. Because if they thought about it too long, they’d have their answer.
You deserved to be happy and healthy and protected. You, who filled a hole in Shishitoren that they didn’t even know existed. 
And now you were an irreplaceable part of their lives, so precious and so important that they began to understand Bofurin. They had you – someone that they would do anything in their power to protect – to keep safe from harm.
You were Shishitoren’s Princess.
After that, Tomiyama and Togame were stuck to you like glue. Always thinking about you, always concerned, always wondering where you were. 
You’re running late and they haven’t got a text letting them know why? They’re out on the streets, danger flashing in their eyes and prepared for the worst. However, when they see that you’ve been distracted by a stray cat on the road, all they do is let out a laugh and join your side. 
They hear you sniffling and see that your eyes are shining with tears? They’re immediately on you, asking who did this to you, with a promise to make them pay for it tenfold. “You can’t really beat up allergies,” you laugh, before sneezing into a tissue. Immediately, the Shishitoren boys are rounded up, their eyes focused and determined – to get you allergy medicine.
You were everything good in the world, bottled up into someone who could make even the rainiest days seem a bit more brighter and the hardest challenges a bit more bearable – and they didn’t want anyone infringing on their happiness.
So when Hayato Suo, from Bofurin, comes across you one fateful day – they’re absolutely livid. 
You hadn’t meant to cross over to their territory – truly. It’s just that Togame had mentioned that his favorite Ramune flavor had been out since last night, and Tomiyama had been going on and on about this new snack that just wasn’t available at the usual corner store that you guys frequented, so you found yourself with a mission on your mind and your wallet in your hand.
And honestly, you loved them, you did, but the way that they treated you like a delicate little flower sometimes felt a bit too stuffy.
What? Did they think you just patched people up for fun? That you knew how to medically treat someone just short of a nurse because it was your hobby?
You’re too absorbed in your thoughts to realize where the directions on your phone are taking you until you’ve already passed the train crossing border that connects Bofurin’s and Shishitoren’s territory. You’re spit out onto a street that you’ve never seen before, but you shrug it off.
When you find the corner store, you make quick work of your shopping list, even grabbing some items for yourself, before you’re out the door.
It’s when you’ve barely taken a few steps down the street that you feel it – the staring on the back of your head.
While you were in the store, you’d felt their eyes on you, but you’d ignored it, hoping that it was just a fleeting moment of curiosity. Now, you see that it was the eyes of a predator stalking their prey.
You pause, before quickly taking out your phone and sending a quick text to Togame and Tomiyama – they just need one small clue and they can fill in the rest – so you send your location. 
And when you finally turn to face your stalker, you snap a photo of their face. For insurance, you assure yourself. Just in case. 
He’s taller than you, with a smirk on his face and his hands in his pockets. You feel uneasy at his presence, and you look up and down the street to see that no one’s around.
Damnit damnit damnit. 
“You’re really pretty, totally my type. Could I get your contact information?” he’s asking, but the tone that he’s saying it in doesn’t leave any room for objection.
“No,” you reply, simple and straight to the point. Then, you stay standing there, and you wait. 
“Never turn your back on an enemy.”
Togame had said this briefly, once, while the both of you were watching everyone spar.
When the man takes a step forward, you take one back, maintaining the distance between you and him.
“Oh come on – it’s just your number. Don’t make this such a big deal.”
He’s holding himself back and you can see it. You can see the way his hands are twitching by his sides now and the way his breathing is starting to speed up.
“Always keep an eye on your opponent~! You wouldn’t wanna miss anything!”
Tomiyama’s words run through your mind next, and you will yourself to maintain your facade.
You’re starting to get just the slightest bit worried now, though. It really shouldn’t be too much longer, you think. Any minute now. 
But a minute passes by, Togame and Choji aren’t here, and the guy’s got his hand wrapped around your wrist so tightly that it’s starting to throb.
“Please – leave me alone!” you yell out, but it’s going through one ear and out the other. He’s smiling down, dark and sinister, and it’s then that you remember something so crucial that you can’t believe you forgot it.
“Kick them, um, down there. It’ll hurt, a lot. But that’s a last resort type of move, alright princess?”
Those self-defense lessons are paying off, Togame. 
You make a mental note to thank him when he gets here.
You kick the man, hard, and when he releases your arm you step back as fast as you can, but – 
The plastic bag you had once held in your hand, now filled with the sloshing liquid and the broken glass of Togame’s Ramune bottle, causes you to slip.
Your hands shoot out and you close your eyes in anticipation of the fall that never comes because strong, warm arms are holding you up.
You let out a sigh of relief – finally. You’re brought to stand, but before those hands can leave your body, you’re swiftly grabbing them to wrap around your waist and leaning your head on their chest.
“Geez, took you guys long enough –”
The sight of a black jacket cuts you off. Black, with green embroidery.
You quickly push yourself off, eyes wide and cheeks red because you had just initiated a very intimate hug with someone who was a complete stranger.
“I-I’m so sorry! Oh my gosh – I thought you were someone else!” you blurt out, hands covering your mouth – and he looks as caught off guard as you are.
His eye is wide, mouth open just the tiniest bit, and – he’s cute.
“Wow, I don’t get thanked like that too often,” he smiles, and you’re mortified at his playful reaction.
“I –,” You open your mouth to apologize again, but he’s got a hand on your shoulder, quickly cutting you off.
You look up at him, and the smile’s still there, but it’s different now – it’s frightening.
“Would you mind stepping to the side for me? It seems some people just don’t know when to quit.”
You hear shuffling behind you, and you’re quickly brought back to the situation at hand. Nodding, you get out of his way, and it’s as soon as you step past him that you hear a sickening thud and a groan of pain.
When you turn, you’re relieved to see that the man who’d been harassing you is on the ground, and if you were to guess, probably out cold.
“Wow… You made quick work of him,” you don’t try to hide the awe in your voice and Suo finds it both endearing and concerning that you’re praising him.
Concerning mainly because, well, you don’t seem to be the type to leisurely enjoy street fights. 
And now you’re right in front of him, inspecting his face and body to make sure there aren’t any cuts that need to be treated or any injuries that need tending.
It’s second nature at this point — ingrained in your body and soul.
Cute, he thinks, very cute that she thinks he touched me.
“Do you see anything wrong, love?” he jests, enjoying the way you’re so diligently scanning him from head to toe.
“No, I don’t think—”
You are, once again, mortified by his teasing. No one at Shishitoren spoke to you like this, and sure they called you Princess, but to you, it held the same value as sister or friend.
“S-sorry, force of habit… ah, thank you for saving me! I sent my friends a message but —”
You’re cut off by the sounds of two distinct voices yelling "Princess", and Suo’s quick to prepare himself for another fight.
However, when he sees Togame and Tomiyama run around the corner with panic in their eyes and desperation in their voices, he’s just confused.
And when they spot the two of you, with an unconscious body on the ground, it gets even more confusing. Because why are they walking over here and why do they have scowls on their face and —
“Princess, what were you thinking?”
Tomiyama and Togame are all over you, Togame’s hand gently grasping your chin to move your face from side to side, and Tomiyama’s got his hand on your wrist, softly thumbing at the bruised skin.
“I’m okay, I’m okay.”
Suo’s observing all of this, and he’s trying to rack his brain for any information about you. God, he really wished Nirei was here right now.
He’s never heard that name before or seen your face, so this must be a recent development. But with the way they’re fretting over you, you’d think that you’d all been childhood friends or something because the way that they’re worrying over you is definitely not normal.
You try to push their hands away from you, embarrassed that you have an audience, but they don’t let up so all you’re able to do is grumble and huff as they inspect you from head to toe.
“... He hurt you,” Tomiyama whispers, and you grab his wrist before he starts stalking toward the body on the floor.
“It’s okay um – oh, I don’t know your name, but he helped me out! Everything’s fine – really! Please, let’s calm down,” you plead, and all it takes is one look at your anxious face for the both of them to ease up.
Now, Suo really wants to understand.
“Suo … thanks for protecting her. This idiot didn’t tell us she was crossing over into your territory. It’s our fault, sorry,” Togame explains, one hand scratching the back of his neck and the other draped over your shoulders.
Suo takes a moment to respond. Who would he be, after all, if not an instigator?
Because — who were you? You – who could turn the Shishitoren leader and his second in command into mere puppies with your sweet voice. You — who had them running like their lives depended on it. 
“Ah, I’d save a sweet girl like her any day,” Suo says, testing the waters, and he gets the exact reaction he was hoping for.
Togame and Tomiyama stiffen up beside you, as you gasp in surprise at his words. 
And suddenly, there’s a shift in the air – and it’s deadly.
You sense it, of course, because who wouldn’t be able to feel the heightened electricity and the low hum of buzzing coming from Togame’s and Tomiyama’s chests?
And you, ever the de-escalating expert, quickly blurt out, “Ah, wait! I need to go back to the store! Give me like 5 minutes!”
Before they can get a “no” out, you’re already out of their grasp and beelining it for the convenience store.
It’s silent for a moment, with just Suo, Tomiyama, and Togame looking at one another.
Finally, Togame breaks the silence.
“Look, Sakura’s a friend –”
“And Ume-chan too!” Tomiyama chimes in.
 “ – and I hope we’re not stepping on your toes here but don’t get any ideas.”
Suo knows he should stop. He should probably apologize, and let them know it’s not what they think. That they’ve got it all wrong. But … he really can’t help it – not with the way that they’re hissing at him like cats. It’s adorable – and you’re adorable.
He was never really good with holding back his tongue, anyway.
“I think she can make her own decisions, don’t you?”
Togame and Tomiyama do not take kindly to his words, and so it begins – a passive-aggressive verbal war.
“Ha, right. It’s been fun, eye-patch-kun, but we really oughta take her back home. You know, so that we can patch her up,” Togame says, and though there's a smile on his face, Suo understands the underlying message behind his words.
She got hurt in your territory, under your patrol.
Suo smiles back at him.
“Ah, sorry! I wasn’t quick enough to save her, but I’m glad I was able to sort this out before things got out of hand,” Suo replies.
All you guys do is blow things up out of proportion – with violence.
“If we’d been here, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt in the first place.”
“Hm. But you probably would’ve gone overboard.”
“Watch it –”
“Ah, sorry!”
It’s when Tomiyama finally opens his mouth that Suo realizes he’s been uncharacteristically quiet, and when they make eye contact, Suo’s smile deepens – because Tomiyama looked like he was ready to maul Suo into pieces, like a true Lion.
“Ume-chan and Furin are our friends,” he says, eyes darkening with every word, “but she’s our family – I think it’s best if you stand down.”
It’s at that moment that you come racing back towards them, your hands full of goodies and a grin on your face as you exclaim, “I got it! I got it!”
You hand Togame his Ramune, Tomiyama his snack, and … you hand Suo bottled tea.
“Sorry, um, I wasn’t too sure what you liked – but this is my favorite drink! Ah, um, if you don’t like it … Suo … I won’t be hurt. But you strike me as a tea lover so –”
You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet, hands wringing behind your back as you ramble and Suo can’t help the sweet smile and the small laugh that escapes his lips before thanking you.
And as soon as he’s done, you’re being whisked away back to your territory – back to your home.
As you walk through the passing, with Tomiyama’s arm intertwined with yours and Togame’s arm draped over your shoulders, you briefly turn around, just to catch one more glance of Suo.
He’s standing there, smiling as he raises his hand to wave at you. You smile back at him with a glossy look in your eyes before Togame softly flicks your forehead.
Your attention is on Togame now, pouty and dejected, before turning your head indignantly as you begin to lecture him about how you’re supposed to thank someone when they help you, and that it’s the nice thing to do.
In the heat of your lecture, you miss the way that Tomiyama and Togame also turn back to look at Suo.
In the darkness of the tunnel, Suo swears he can see their eyes glinting, and his smile only deepens. 
Their eyes, daring and territorial, only say one thing.
Ours. Ours. Ours. 
He had to admit, he wasn’t expecting this turn of events but he was intrigued now. 
And, it’s only after the three of you disappear that he realizes he never learned your name – your real name.
So, when he volunteers to take over the patrol where the Furin territory ends and the Shishitoren territory starts, who can blame him?
What Suo doesn’t know, though, is that after this little incident, you’re permanently banned from walking alone ever again.
(Of course, you’re not actually banned. But, you are given a scolding afterward – which, in your eyes, is rich coming from Togame and Tomiyama, but sure, whatever.)
🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐
The next time Suo sees you, it’s when he least expects it. 
You’re in Bofurin territory, with a small first-aid kit on your lap as you tend to the child in front of you. You’re smiling at the sniffling little boy as you wrap some gauze around his ankle, your fingers adept and swift, as if you’d done this countless times before.
“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it? You’re so strong!”
You ask him how it feels, and the little boy beams up at you, the tears in his eyes long gone and instead replaced with immense gratitude.
You smile down at him, playfully scolding him to be more careful as you pat his head softly.
And then Suo sees you hand him a lollipop — a lollipop — and it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen.
So, really, can you blame him for sneaking up behind you and whispering into your ear?
“What brings you to Bofurin territory, princess?”
You yelp in surprise, before turning around so fast that Suo worries if you gave yourself whiplash.
Once your blush has gone down and the surprise of seeing him wears off, you explain that you’re here to get some bread for Tomiyama from the Cactus bakery.
He’d been saying that he wanted fresh bread, but there weren’t any in Shishitoren that you knew of. And as soon as he mentioned the Cactus’s Anpan over on Bofurin's side of the tunnel, well, who could blame you for taking that opportunity to not only do something for him but also for yourself?
Which, of course, was to hopefully run into Suo.
“He sent you all the way over here to pick up bread for him?”
“Hm? No, of course not. This is a surprise for him!”
“I see – I was wondering why you didn’t have your guard dogs around…”
“My guard dogs?”
“Oh!” you laugh and Suo thinks it’s the most pleasant sound he’s heard in his life.
“You mean Tomiyama and Togame? No, they don’t know I’m here. It wouldn’t really be a surprise if they knew, right?”
Suo’s starting to see it now – why they care for you so much. But he wants to know more, so he asks about the kid you were tending to.
“Ah — I saw him playing with some kids and he took a nasty fall. I didn’t think it was right to let him go home without care, so I patched him up. I hope that’s okay?”
Suo finds that he really likes talking to you. He likes how expressive you are, how kind you are, and how thoughtful you are. And he finally learns your name. He likes that about you too – it’s cute.
So, naturally, he offers to escort you to Cactus – purely just to keep an eye on you, he convinces himself.
And when he escorts you back to the border, all your goodies in one hand and his arm in the other, well – 
He doesn’t care enough to find justification for his actions. He just really liked you – plain and simple.
When you let go of his arm, he’s already grieving the feeling of your body pressed to his side. 
You were warm, soft, and he’s sure that if he ever got the chance to taste your lips, sweet.
“Let’s exchange contact information! That way, you can be my guard dog when I’m here,” you say as you pull out your phone, and Suo’s so so glad that he ran into you today.
When he adds your contact to his phone, he puts you down as Princess.
When you add his contact to yours, you put him down as Guard Dog. 
🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐
After that, you and Suo try to meet up. But… well…
You don’t see the point in trying to hide it. You were, after all, your own person. You could think for yourself, make decisions for yourself, and speak up for yourself. You were so open to loving and the Shishitoren boys knew this – so why should you hide it?
And when you had something on your mind, you were determined to make it happen. So, you don’t see why it would be any different with Suo. You had met him twice now, and you wanted to keep seeing him. To keep talking to him. To maybe even date him.
But to Shishitoren, this was equivalent to losing you – and they could never let that happen.
So Shishitoren never lets you see him – and it’s not like they’re barricading you inside the Ori or blocking the entrance to the border (though, they’ll admit that the thoughts crossed their mind in one way or the other).
No. They do it in a way that they know will make you stay with them – by acting like big babies.
The first to fall was Arima – 
You’re about to leave to meet up with Suo when Arima runs into the Ori, cries of pain leaving his lips as he whines at how much it hurts. You drop your bag immediately, texting Suo a panicked text about how something came up and that you’re sorry but you’ve gotta cancel today. 
You have Arima sit down, all your supplies laid out next to you as you ask him what happened and – 
It’s a paper cut.
But he’s babbling about how deep it is and how much it stings and it takes forever to just disinfect it and wrap a bandage around it before you realize that half the day’s just flew by for a minor injury.
Second was Kanuma – when he got a bad haircut.
Third was Sako – when he suddenly, out of nowhere, began asking you for advice about how you would approach someone who you used to look up to but lost respect for, who you vowed to fight and win against, only to lose against them and have them apologize to you (you, obviously, struggled with what advice you could even give him).
Fourth was Tomiyama – when he lost his favorite pair of sneakers.
Fifth was Togame – when he lost an eating challenge for the first time.
“It’s for the good of Shishitoren,” they say as they prepare the next victim.
Eventually, you find yourself tending to almost all of Shishitoren’s wounds, whether physical or emotional, and you just can’t believe that they’re fighting against you and Suo so hard.
But, in between all of that, you and Suo still manage to sneak in hushed phone calls and sweet texts.
Always asking about how the other’s doing, always talking about how your day went. He looks forward to it, he realizes, laying in bed as he hears you start to slur the ends of your words, drifting off into sleep.
And you send him photos all the time – it could be of a cat you came across while on the way to the Ori, or a drink that you tried that you liked – and with each text, with each phone call, Suo finds himself becoming smitten with you. 
You, who would remind him to drink water and to at least eat something small to get through the day. You, who had perfect memory and would follow up with the things that he’d talked about days ago, just because you were interested and curious (he’d mentioned that there was a tea spot that he frequented in Makochi, and it only took a day or two later for you to bring it up again, this time with all sorts of questions and comments like “I looked at what they serve! Which one’s your favorite?” and “I’d love to go there with you sometime, Suo – if I ever get the chance”. He’d only said the name of this tea shop once, but you remembered). 
And sweet, kind, loving you – who seemed to know whenever he had a particularly tough day. You were so attentive to him, which was surprising because all your interactions were never in person, but it seemed that you could understand his mood just based on the extra second it took for him to answer the phone or the way he responded to your text. And the thing was that Suo was great at masking his emotions – an expert, even. But you, who could just sense these things about other people, were giving him the chance to open up if he so chose to. You never pressed, never battered him for an answer. Just a simple – “I feel like there’s something on your mind, but if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay! Just know that if you ever need a shoulder to lean on, I’ll be there for you Suo.”
And, above all, you never stop trying. You never stop trying to escape the clutches of Shishitoren to see him – though you apologize every time your plans get thwarted as if you both weren’t expecting the same outcome.
But Suo doesn’t see you again, for months – not until a huge fight breaks out, and you’re honestly the last one he expects to see rushing onto the aftermath of the battlefield with a backpack filled to the brim with medical supplies and a determined look on your face.
They didn’t know Shishitoren was going to get involved and fight alongside them, didn’t know that the aftermath was going to be this bad. But if Suo had known that you’d be running to meet everyone afterwards, well – 
🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐
He sees you a mile away, and he’s so relieved that you’re not hurt. That you’re up and moving. That you’re here. But he’s also surprised and caught off guard because – why were you here?
It’s then that he sees your bag, sees the way that you’ve got your hair up and out of your face, and the way that you’re scanning everyone up and down so fast that your eyes never stop moving. 
My little nurse, Suo thinks, rushing to the injured like the sweet princess she is.
Little did you know that as he was fighting, there were only 3 things revolving through his mind – Bofurin, Makochi, and you. He fought to protect those 3 things that were so very dear to his heart, and to be greeted with the sight of you after winning? Well, it couldn’t be anything less but a sign of his hard work. A reward, if you will.
He sees you run up to Umemiya, serious and purposeful, as you open your mouth and wait for a response. Umemiya, though very confused, gives you an answer that you seem satisfied with because you nod, then thank him, and now you’re running towards Suo, and you make eye contact, and he can’t wait for you to dote after him and take care of him and – 
You smile at him, scan his body, nod –  and walk right past him. You never stopped for him, actually. You just kept moving. Just kept walking.
And Suo just watches – he watches as you make your way over to where Shishitoren is laid out, watches as they all let out a sigh of relief when they see you safe and unharmed, watches as they start talking animatedly to you as you start setting up for aid.
And you’re standing there with a pained look in your eyes as you nod at their words halfheartedly, more focused on the injuries that they’re sporting on their bodies than the words coming out of their mouths. You’re going from person to person as fast as you can, and although Suo can’t hear you, he can read your lips as you tell every single person – “I’m here now. It’s okay. Thank you for fighting. I’ll take care of you.”
He watches as you get to Tomiyama and Togame, and sees the way your eyes start to water as they pat your head and tell you that they’re fine – even though you have eyes, you can see how hard they’ve fought. Instead, they’re fondly thanking you for coming all this way just to take care of them.
And suddenly, everything got a bit too real for Suo. A bit too scary.
Because he didn’t realize how hard he’d fallen for you, in between those two fateful meetings, the constant late-night phone calls, and the never-ending texts.
It hits Suo like a train. He wanted to be the one that you search for in the crowd. He wanted to be the one that you’re fussing over. He wanted you to patch him up. He wanted you.
He was in love with you.
And he shuts down – completely.
He goes silent, uncharacteristically so, to the point that Sakura and Nirei are starting to get worried.
“What’s wrong, Suo-san?”
“Suo, what’s the matter with you?”
It goes through one ear and out the other – no response, no indication that he’s even present at the moment.
It’s when you’re patching up the last member of Shishitoren that you feel the heat of an eye on you – and your body reacts before your mind can.
Suo’s name is the only thing running through your mind as you finish up as fast as you can – and you’re off.
You’re making your way to where all of Bofurin is sitting, just barely slipping out of the grasps of the Shishitoren boys.
It’s Togame, with his long limbs, who reaches out and puts a hand on your shoulder and it’s Tomiyama, with his fast reflexes, who has your hand in his.
“Princess, no–”
“Let me find Suo.”
“But you don’t even –”
“Choji, Jo – let me go.”
They hesitate. You’d never spoken to them like this before. Never used their first names before. Never been so cold before.
But they weren’t fools. Even if you tried to hide it, they’d seen the way you sneaked off to talk to him or the way you thought you were hiding your phone when you were responding to him. Anytime they’d bring something up that had even an inkling to do with Suo, you were excitedly adding in your input – all while stumbling over your words as you tried to be mysterious. 
(They’d done a test, actually. All they did was bring up the word tea and you were fighting for your life as you kept accidentally saying Suo’s name when talking about your friend. 
“Ah, Su– AH, I mean, my friend really likes this type of tea.”
“Oh! That’s S– my friend's favorite place in Makochi!”
They didn’t have the heart to tell you because, well – you really sucked at lying.)
And they realize, with heavy hearts, that you were never theirs to lock up in the Ori. You were so kind, so lovable, so sweet, because that’s just who you are as a person. 
You were protected, sure, and healthy, sure, but you weren’t happy.
You, who were the embodiment of everything that Shishitoren was working to protect, had made a choice and they weren’t respecting it the way that you respected them – and they were being, well, selfish.
And when they finally let you go, you sigh in relief. Making your way over to where Suo’s sitting, you yell out over your shoulder, with so much spite, so much anger, and so much love – 
“You act like I’m never coming back – stop whining like puppies!”
Togame’s and Tomiyama’s eyes widen in shock before they both laugh lightly at your words in disbelief.
You really knew how to scold them.
“... she’s talking about you.”
“... nah, she’s definitely talking about you.”
🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐
When you made your way over to Suo, you were met with guarded and curious stares from all of Bofurin. Too focused and too determined, you brush it off. You knew about the fight that they had with Shishitoren, sure, but you thought that they had patched everything up? And Shishitoren had fought with them for this big battle, so why the curiosity?
If only you knew the real reason everyone was staring at you.
Instead, you find yourself running past all of them with Suo’s name falling from your lips, and when you see him, he doesn’t respond.
You pause, dejected, before repeating his name.
No response. 
Now you’re worried – and scared.
You recognize Sakura and Nirei, based on how Suo had described them briefly, and you immediately begin asking them what happened.
“Sakura, Nirei – is Suo okay? Did he get hurt? Does he need first aid?”
You’re met with silence – and shock.
“H-huh? Do we know you?”
“U-umm – sorry, have we met before?”
You pause at their response, looking at them confused.
You blink once, then twice, then three times – before glancing at Suo.
Unresponsive and unperturbed.
You introduce yourself slowly, giving Sakura and Nirei the chance to remember you – because they must’ve heard your name at least once, right?
They hadn’t.
And now you’re standing there with hundreds of eyes on you, as you come to terms with the fact that maybe … maybe you’d been wrong this whole time.
You clear your throat before timidly asking a question that you fear you already know the answer to.
“Did he um… did he not tell you about me? Uh… about us?”
And suddenly – everything goes to shit.
Shishitoren rises up in arms, walking over to where you are because why did you look so confused and why was Suo ignoring their beloved princess – 
All of Bofurin is staring at you with their mouths wide open, processing the words you’ve just said –
Sakura’s spluttering, desperately trying to form words as he continues to just point back and forth from you to Suo with shaky hands – 
Nirei’s got his notebook in his hand, flipping through it like a madman because how could he miss something like this, and had Suo ever talked about you? – 
Suo’s unresponsive, still – 
And then, to top it all off, Kiryu gasps because he’s finally solved it. He’d seen a text on Suo’s phone, so brief and so quick, but he was sure that the person Suo was texting was – 
“Oh! You’re the one he’s been texting! You’re Princess!”
At Kiryu’s words, you snap. 
And no one, not even Togame and Tomiyama, had ever seen you this angry, this upset, this livid.
You weren’t expecting him to go around screaming your name all over Makochi, but what you did expect was at the very least maybe his friends to know. Was that so absurd? You never tried to hide your feelings for Suo from Shishitoren (They tried so hard to stop it) so why wasn’t it reciprocated? Did he not feel the same way? Had you looked too deep into his actions and created a fantasy in your mind? Did you not really know him as well as you thought? 
Or worse – had he been toying with you? 
Oh, you were pissed – and poor Suo didn’t have a clue.
You go to stand in front of him, eerily calm and sickeningly sweet as you call his name one more time.
“Hayato Suo.”
Now that – that brings him back to his senses. You watch him blink in succession as he grounds himself, before his eye darts to you, to Furin, to Shishitoren – and he quickly puts the pieces together before letting out a stiff laugh.
“Ah – I was hoping to introduce you properly to everyon–”
“Am I a joke to you, Hayato?”
Suo freezes at your words. 
How could you, who had unknowingly wormed your way into his heavily guarded heart, be a joke?
But he realizes now – and he feels, for one of the few times in his life, stupid.
Because you love with your heart on your sleeve, and Suo loves with his heart tucked away.
And really, Suo should’ve known, because you’re you — you who gave Shishitoren something to protect and to hold close to their hearts, safe from danger and harm’s way.
You press on, fighting through the anger and the embarrassment and the fear you feel rising inside of you.
“Tell me Hayato, answer me. Was I? Hm? Did you have fun?”
“No, I –”
“Every call, every text – did that mean nothing to you? Was I just being delusional?”
“Wait I –”
You’re so close to him now, softly jabbing your finger into his chest as your words begin to get more and more shaky.
“Do you feel powerful, Hayato? Making a Shishitoren girl fall in love with you–”
You stop yourself, teary-eyed and vulnerable, and you feel so stupid. Because what hurts more than anything is giving someone all your love, all your time, all your energy – all for it to have been for nothing. You thought he felt the same, truly. But now? All you wanted was to walk away from all of this, walk away from Bofurin, and never ever look back.
He grabs your hand, desperately, as your words sink in. He wants to – no, needs to make sure that he’s not just hearing things. That he’s not just imagining it.
“You … love me?”
You pause, taking the chance to actually look at him. You see hope on his face, and you furrow your eyebrows in response.
“... is this another joke? Of course, I love you, you idiot. You would’ve been the first one I ran to but your leader said you guys were all patched up already so I –”
Everyone’s eyes turn to Umemiya, who shrivels under the attention and wordlessly mouths an “I didn’t know!”
But your eyes are only on Suo’s, and Suo’s is only on yours.
And Suo lets you see him, truly see him, for who he is. He doesn’t shy away from your stare, doesn't put on a mask, doesn’t push his feelings into the box that’s been his safe haven for so many years. 
Your eyes flicker with uncertainty and fear, but you convince yourself to try one more time. Just one last time. 
“Hayato Suo, I really do love you,” you whisper, so slowly, so hesitantly, so scared.
Then, with everyone’s eyes on the both of you, Suo slides one hand to the small of your back, and the other to cradle your face.
He wanted to learn how to love with his heart on his sleeve – just like you.
“… again.”
“… I lov—”
His lips cut you off, and honestly, you’re not even mad. Not when he’s pulling you flush to his body, his hand slipping to the back of your neck, and your fingers grasping at the collar of his jacket.
Black, with green embroidery.
“I love you, too – but I’m afraid there’s too many eyes here for me to show you how deeply I feel for you, Princess – I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Dazed, all you can manage is a soft nod and a flutter of your eyelashes before pulling his lips back to yours.
Suo smiles into the kiss. He was right, you were as sweet as he thought you’d be.
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really-fanny-longbottom · 6 months ago
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only in my dreams
summary: love has two sides. it can be pure, beautiful, and exciting, but it can also be lonely, painful, and the worst of all — unrequited.
warnings: mentions of heartbreak, unrequited love, alcohol, death and a curse word.
pairings: azriel x reader
words: 3.4k
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you should have stayed at home.
you knew you shouldn't have come.  
you knew it was a bad idea from the moment you walked through the threshold of the balcony of the house of wind.
it was sad to know that this house used to be your safe haven — a place where you were happy and felt safe, where you could be yourself. 
but now it makes you want to leave as quickly as possible and never come back.
because that was the only solution to not having to see the scene that was unfolding in front of your eyes. 
your eyes — the same ones that used to contain love and happiness, were now sad and empty.
the same ones who used to shine with excitement every time you entered a room looked now absent — as if something had sucked away their vitality and left nothing behind.
even your kind and warm smiles had started to appear less frequently until they disappeared completely.
that's how you looked now — no sparkles in your eyes and no smile on your face as you moved the food on your plate with a fork from side to side.
you stopped listening to the conversation a long time ago. 
it was another dinner night with the inner circle at the house of wind. you were sitting between rhys, who was at the head of the table on your right side, and nesta on your left side.
you were trying everything to keep your eyes on your plate so you didn't have to watch elain being courted by azriel — the owner of your heart and the reason it was breaking little more day by day.
he wasn't to blame and you didn't blame him for his feelings towards the middle archeron sister, afterall, no one has the power to choose who they like or love — but it didn't make it any less painful.
pain — you were feeling it a lot now.  
every time elain laughed at something azriel whispered to her made it hurt even more.  
your power wasn't helping you at all right now.  
Being an empath had its advantages — it allowed you to feel and understand the emotions and feelings of others and increase and decrease their intensity. it also allowed you to know when someone is lying or telling the truth and to control and manipulate them, despite not using the last two (unless it was necessary) because you believe it to be incorrect.
but the thing most people didn't know about being an empath is that it affects your emotions and feelings, too.
it makes you feel everything more intensely — meaning that you felt everything ten times more than everyone else.
a good joke that made others laugh until their stomachs hurt — made you cry with laughter. 
simple things that made others happy — made you jump with joy.
and when others felt passion — you felt love. 
you loved with more strength and intensity than everyone, but you also suffered in the same way.
and when you suffer, it's like your light has been turned off.
a hand on your knee took you out of your thoughts — nesta.  
she was the only reason you were here — literally, she dragged you from the library when you told her you wouldn't be joining them for dinner.
the older archeron sister had become one of your favorite people. 
nesta was the one who had the most difficult time in adjusting and accepting this new life, so instead of ignoring her as some did, you decided to be the first to extend your hand to her.
it all started with your mutual interest in books. it started with book recommendations, then exchanges and finally reading them together.
by the time you noticed, you were training together, sharing meals, and adventuring in the city.
your friendship was not easy — nesta made sure of that.  
at first, she tried to push you away with cold stares and nasty comments, but you knew better than anyone that it was nothing but a defense mechanism.
you knew that when she said she was better off alone, she really just wanted someone to hug her.
so, knowing better than anyone, you fought for her.  
you ignored the cold stares and faced her nasty comments, and when she tried to push you away, you stood your ground and didn't let her.  
little by little, she let you in, and you got to know her — the real nesta.  
over time, the staring stopped, the comments disappeared, and instead of trying to push you away, she started looking for your company.
your friendship turned into a sisterhood, and now, Nesta would fight for you just as much as you fought for her. 
your sisterhood grew, and short after that, you were welcoming emerie and gwyn — your girls.
quickly, a friendship was formed between the four of you, and there was no one you trusted more than each other.  
they told everything about themselves, their past, their fears, and even their secrets.
so, you did the same — except your feelings for the shadowsinger, nesta was the only one who knew about that.
you joined the inner circle one hundred and fifty years ago when you moved to velaris to live with your great-aunt madja.
despite being an empath, you also inherited a natural talent for healing just like your aunt.
that's how you met rhysand and his family.
there was an enemy attack in windhaven with several fatalities and many injured illyrians, which required all the healers who worked at the clinic, including you and madja, to be winnowed there by morrigan.
as soon as you arrived, it was total chaos. the soldiers who were not injured, and even some who were, did not stop running from one side to the other, nor did they stop shouting or grabbing weapons and demanding to go after those who fled making it impossible for the healers to help. 
the enemy had already been defeated before your arrival, so you were not in danger and for that reason, you did not hesitate to use your powers.
you made your way so you could stand right in the middle of the soldiers. 
you raised your arms to the sides and closed your eyes, and with a little bit of focus you let the soldiers' emotions start to invade you from head to toe.
then with a long sigh, you took control of their emotions and released your power.
the soldiers immediately stopped in their places and went limp before starting to fall to the ground unconscious.
you put them to sleep.
it was the only safe way for the healers to be able to do their work even though you didn't like having this kind of control over someone.
the only ones who were not affected were the high lord, his brothers, and his cousin.
their eyes were fixed on you, who remained standing among the sleeping soldiers.
and when they turned to you for an explanation of what had just happened, they were even more shocked when you revealed to them what you were and what you had just done.
they had never met anyone with that kind of power, and so they were having a little trouble getting their faces back to an expression of neutrality.
impressed wasn't enough to describe how they were feeling at that very moment.
qs a thanks, rhysand offered you a position in his inner circle. after some hesitation and several lectures from madja about how it would be a bad idea (and lack of education) to refuse such an offer, you accepted.
moving to the house of wind, you established friendships with all the members, but azriel was the one you became closest to.  
you became best friends over time, and before you could stop your heart, you fell in love with him.  
even when he was already in love with mor.
despite knowing about his affections towards the blonde female, it hadn't hurt as much as it does now because azriel had never acted on his feelings for her.
but you decided to wait. you believed that one day the mother would smile upon you, and she would grant you the wish you carried in your heart every day.
therefore, during that time, you were content to love him from afar — and in the shadows.
you thought that day had finally arrived after noticing the change in azriel's behavior towards mor after the arrival of the archeron sisters.  
you couldn't be more wrong.
you couldn't help but find this whole situation ironic. after decades of seeing azriel in love with mor and hoping that one day he would notice you, he was now courting elain.
the archeron sisters came into your life and turned everything upside down. you were grateful that feyre and nesta's path led them to you, but you couldn't feel the same way about elain.
before you could wander in your thoughts even more, nesta squeezed your knee, getting your attention again. 
you looked at your best friend and noticed the worry on her face, so putting your hand on top of hers, you murmured to her a small "i'm okay" and gave her a small smile. 
"are you sure?" she murmured too, so no else could hear it. 
you nodded your head at her and returned your attention to your plate.
rhys' voice made you look up, and you regretted it immediately because in that exact moment, you saw azriel and elain's hands intertwined on the top of the table.
you shook your head and looked at your high lord — who had become a very good friend of yours.
"are our plans at rita's still on for tomorrow night?" rhys asked. 
everyone — but you — said their agreements before azriel spoke, "actually, elain and i have plans for tomorrow night." 
your breathing got caught on your throat, and nesta's hand flew immediately to yours, grabbing it gently.
it was Feyre who asked, "where are you going?" you could've sworn there was a hint of surprise in her voice.
"to the new restaurant that just opened by the rainbow. it's supposed to be very good," elain's eyes moved from her younger sister to the male sitting next to her, "so we decided to try it." 
cassian cleared his throat, and he looked in your direction before looking at the people in front of him. "it's that a date? are you going on a date?"
azriel chuckled and squeezed elain's hand. "i guess we can call it that." 
you stood up abruptly, attracting everyone's eyes, "sorry. i just remembered that madja needs my assistance to visit a patient tomorrow, and i forgot to prepare the medical bag." 
you excused yourself before leaving the dining room and making your way towards the stairs. 
you heard cassian and nesta calling your name, but you didn't bother to turn as you started to descend the ten thousand steps.
through your power, you were able to realize that no one — with the exception of your best friend and her mate — noticed your lie. 
Just as they didn't notice the tears that filled your eyes as soon as you turned your back on them and left the room.
••• 
you went to your aunt's house.  
the last thing madja expected to find at her door at that time of night was her niece with red eyes and tears running freely down her cheeks.
she barely let you walk in before she wrapped your figure into a tight embrace. 
she had noticed the change in your mood recently but decided not to comment because she knew very well that as soon as you were ready to talk, you would tell her everything.
and that's what you did.
you told her everything as you both rested on her pink couch with your head in her lap while she caressed your hair, listening to your words attentively.
you ended up falling asleep with your cheeks stained from the tears, and madja didn't dare to move. she refused to awake you from your peaceful slumber.
she bent down to kiss your head, and when she raised again, she saw a piece of parchment on the top of the table next to the couch, reaching for it.
it was rhysand asking where you were. 
madja answered for you, saying that you were with her and spending the night at her house. 
it didn't take long until your aunt joined you into your slumber.
the following night, you made your way towards the House after a hard day at the clinic. 
the day got worse when the patient you went to see at his residence didn't make it.
sometimes, you hate your job, especially because of your powers. when things got too much for you to handle, you had to put a shield around you to prevent you from feeling your patients worries or pains.
the patient you visited was heavily sick. it was too late to do anything medical, so you did the only thing you could.
you used your powers. let his emotions invade you, and then, with a long sigh, you took away his pain and transferred it to you.
that was the only thing you could do for him at that moment, and you are more than relieved that you were able to provide him comfort while he left this world, making his passing easier for him and his family.
you climbed the ten thousand steps, but it didn't even bother you. you were too busy thinking about your patient and whether his family would be okay.
you made a mental note to visit them the next day and help where you could.
you pushed these thoughts away as you opened the door and entered the House.
all you needed right now was to be with your friends and forget about this awful day.
when you walked into the living room, you remembered that everyone went to rita's.
well, everyone, but you, azriel, and elain. the two of them were on their date tonight. 
and like a snap of a finger, all your emotions and feelings from the last few months and days came flooding back.  
your eyes fell on rhys's expensive drinks cart.  
you wiped your tears and everything you felt turned into anger.  
"fuck it."
you went to the cart, grabbed the first bottle that was in your reach, removed the cork and drank, sinking the drink down your throat and your sorrows with it.
three hours later, cassian, nesta, rhys and feyre finally arrived at the house.
amren had departed to her apartment after they left rita's and mor stayed behind saying that her night wasn't over yet.
the two couples had come talking about you on the way. they had waited for you but when you didn't show up, they assumed you were with madja or still at the clinic.
rhys had sent a letter to madja a few minutes ago asking for you and when your aunt said she was looking for you too, they left hoping to find you here.
they just didn't expect the state they were going to find you.
as soon as they passed the threshold of the balcony and into the living room, they saw you.
you were laying on the couch with your legs off of it, an empty bottle was in your hand, and another on the floor by your feet.
"oh my god," the high lady whispered.
cassian moved and kneeled next to you by the couch. his hand made its way to your arm and tried to awake you.
"y/n." he shook you lightly.
after a few seconds, you opened your eyes and were faced with the General looking at you.
"cass," you said with your voice dragging, "you're here." you moved to sit and wrapped him into a hug, one that he didn't hesitate to reciprocate.
"are you alright, sweetheart?" he asked you while caressing your back.
"i am now that you're all here," you released a breath. "my dear friends", you looked at your other three friends who were looking at you with concern. "you're so beautiful. all of you. did you know that?" you giggled.
it was rare for you to drink and when you did, you never got drunk.
nesta sat down next to you and put an arm around your shoulders. you took the opportunity to rest your head on her shoulder, finding comfort in your friend's embrace.
"what happened, y/n?" she asked you.
You started laughing before replying with irony in your voice "what didn't happen?" 
you pushed away from her and stood so you could face all your friends "my patient died. the male I've been in love with for decades won't even look at me and this house that used to be my safe haven, it's now the stage of my pain."
"hh! not to mention that elain is mated but does she care? no! does azriel care? of course not. i've been in love with him for decades. decades! and he doesn't even look at me." you started laughing, "by the cauldron, u'm pathetic."
your family didn't seem surprised by your revelation.
cassian pulled you into a tight hug and rhys and nesta moved to do the same.
if it weren't for this situation everyone would've thought that the world was about to end from seeing rhys and nesta hugging each other.
morrigan arrived in the moment you were in the middle of your friends with tears in your eyes.
"what's going on?" mor whispered to feyre who was still in the same spot since she arrived.
feyre explained everything and by the moment she finished, both females had tears in her eyes at the sight of her friend being hurt.
"what's wrong with me?" you asked them, your voice breaking.
"nothing is wrong with you. nothing." that wasn't your friend speaking — it was your high lord.
feyre and morrigan joined the hug in the moment you said, "i'm never going to be good enough for him. i'll never be her." 
tears rolled down feyre and mor faces, and both females were asking the same question in their minds "how long has she been feeling like this?"
your high lady spoke this time, "y/n, what can we do? what do you need?"
you hugged cassian tighter before locking eyes with nesta "i just need my girls."
nesta nodded her head at you and looked at the blonde female "can you take us?" 
mor didn't hesitate in agreeing. 
anything to make you feel better.
•••
two hours later, you were in the middle of the bed with nesta and gwyn on one side and emerie on the other, all of them with their arms around you.
the three of them had fallen asleep a few minutes ago after one hour of you telling them everything about azriel and a lot of cups of tea and tissues.
you thought they would've been mad at you but they didn't. 
they reassured you several times that it was okay and that you could take all the time in the world until you were ready after you tried to apologize too many times.
now you were staring at the ceiling thinking about your options.
you couldn't live like this anymore, knowing that azriel would never love you back. 
so you were going to do the only thing you could in order to protect what was left of your heart.
there was something about your powers that no one knew. something that you never had shared.
you had a switch.  
one that you could turn on and off whenever and wherever you wanted.  
in the same way that you could feel everything, you could also feel nothing.
the only problem? everything that made you, you, would disappear.
but it was also your solution to your situation.
you closed your eyes and gave a deep breath.
you focused on your breathing for a minute and then. . .
no more emotions.
no more feelings.
no more love.
no more sadness.
no more pain.
no more tears.
you turned it off.
when you opened your eyes again, you were numb.
you didn't feel a single thing. 
good.
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a/n: Thank you for reading!
[masterlist]
general taglist: @emryb @fantasyandshit @azrielover @shadowsingercassia @brieflyclassymortal @lilah-asteria @lure-of-writing @pruvii @olive-main @mybestfriendmademe @anuttellaa
the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune
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luvjunie · 1 year ago
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— headcanons. miles morales (earth1610)
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MILES who somehow managed to pick you up with that corny little shoulder touch his Uncle Aaron taught him. Not because it actually worked and left you smitten and head over heels for him—but because in that moment, the dorky boy who stood in front of you had made you laugh so hard you’d nearly peed yourself. There was no way that with a sense of humor like his, he wasn’t getting your number.
MILES who has never missed a good morning or a goodnight text. While often they may not always be at the most ideal times, it’s the fact that he remembered that means the most to you. Even if he’s running late to school, shoes untied, and shirt buttoned unevenly as he bundles out the door of his dorm, he insists he can text and run to class at the same time. And at night, even if his eyelids feel as if they weigh a ton the minute his back finally hits his mattress after webbing the villain of the week to a light pole for the cops, he refuses to fall asleep without telling you he loves you first— though the message may include a few sleepy typos. “Goodnihgt aby i lov youuu” “shitno i meant baby not aby”
MILES who hand draws a card for you when the monthly anniversary of your relationship rolls by. Each one of them is different and creative in their own way and you’re always excited to see what it’ll look like this time. He’ll swiftly swing by your fire escape on his way to patrol, drop a box of chocolates, your favorite candy, or a bouquet of flowers on the steel metal along with the card, then switch arms and thwip another web to the next building in the same breath.
MILES who loves to draw you, especially when the two of you haven’t been able to hang out in a while, just so he can reminisce and pretend like you’re there, in his room with him. His sketchbook is filled with pictures of you, hearts usually adorning whatever space is left blank on the paper. He sees you in such a different light than you view yourself in, and he’s able to capture certain aspects of your features that you hadn’t even noticed before. He was so embarrassed the first time you saw his sketchbook laid open on his bed and tried to hide them from you, nervous he’d make you uncomfortable in any way. But you were nothing short of flattered, and reassured him of such by smattering kisses onto the expanse his flushed face and telling him how much of a sweetheart he was.
MILES who falls asleep in the span of two seconds. Usually when you can’t come over, you settle for long facetime calls so you can tell each other about your days, or watch a movie together. But he’s just so comfortable around you, and your voice is so calming, like a lullaby, so much so that he can’t help it when he falls asleep halfway into your rundown of events. After five minutes of silence, which is unheard of for a kid like Miles who is always filled with endless quips and jokes, you’ll scoop your phone off your bed only to see his ivory-colored ceiling instead of his face.
“Milesss!” You whine, the sudden sound of shuffling from the other end of the line erupting through your speakers as he frantically scoops his phone back up from his pillow, his sleepy face shifting back into view.
“Huh?” He mumbles, clearing his throat as he blinks the sleep from his eyes.
“You fell asleep in the middle of my story again.” You accuse.
“Nuh uh! I’ve been awake this whole time. I’m just a really, really good listener, m-hm. I am a wonderful and completely-awake, professional listener.” He nods, gifting you his signature goofy smile that‘s always a reminder that you can never be mad at him for long.
MILES who loves taking you to the new places he’s able to go around the city now that he’s Spiderman.
When you found out your boyfriend was Spiderman, you were in such disbelief that you immediately asked for proof, for him to show you anything that proved he was spiderman other than a suit and a mask. And proof you got, if the powerful gusts of wind in your face as he swung the two of you with web after web over the skyline of the city were anything to go by.
You were terrified the first time, legs glued around his waist and arms clamped so tightly around his neck that there was no way you’d fall. He would never in a million years let you slip from his grasp anyways, but if you did, you were damn sure taking him with you. He kept one arm around your waist for support and laughed at how you hollered almost the entire way to the clock tower, and whether they were screams of excitement or terror, he didn’t know.
It was beyond exhilarating, seeing the city from above with him, standing on the roofs of buildings you never imagined you’d reach. It had your heart pumping faster than you thought it ever could and your trust in him solidifying even further, and soon you found yourself asking him take you again, and again. And Miles would take you anywhere you wanted to go; open to doing anything just to see a smile on your face and to have you holding onto him like that again.
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- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to any other platforms
likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗
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bookshelf-dust · 4 months ago
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the art of dancing in the kitchen
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carmy berzatto x fem!hairdresser!reader
gif by @hotch-girl
word count: 3,479
warnings: literally nothing? this is pure fluff with slight swearing and little baby innuendos. i did make reader a hairdresser because i just love the idea and it makes so much sense for this.
synopsis: nothing brings you more joy than spending time with carmen…except maybe having him help you bake.
a/n: i swear to you, i think this might be my favorite fic that i’ve ever written. i love it so much and it made me so happy to write. i found myself smiling at the screen while typing, if that tells you anything. i think i’d definitely like to continue writing things in this universe, too! carmy is so fun for me to write and i love coming up with ways to make him feel tangible. (also shoutout to the first pic because if you know, you know.) i hope you enjoy this one and happy reading!! <33
————
Carmy never sees you run as fast as you do when you’re leaving work. In this case, it’s just so he can eat lunch with you, but you rush out of the salon door just as fast.
Your sundress catches the wind, the hem flying behind you as you jog up to the passenger side door. You catch a glimpse of Carmen through the dirty window. His curls are crushed underneath that worn blue cap, but today it’s turned the wrong way around on his head.
It makes him look boyish. The hand rubbing over his mouth in an effort to hide a grin doesn’t help his case. 
If you’re honest, you’ve been giddy since six that morning, when you got up and remembered that Carmy was meeting you for lunch. And when you got to work and found it was much slower than expected, with no show after no show, you were so grateful for the blue eyed man waiting for you outside. In a loading zone, no less. 
You hop into the car, pulling the door shut behind you distractedly. You’re too eager to see him, and before you can even say hello, how are you, how’s life—anything—you’re kissing him. 
His lips feel a little chapped against yours, the skin slightly dry and cracked, but you don’t mind. It feels like he’s just shaved, his jaw all smooth, and he smells like cinnamon and dish soap and cigarettes, but you’d be a liar if you tried to claim that wasn’t the best smell in the world.
You pull away from his kiss, locking eyes with him, where his pupils are blown wide and his cheeks are flushed like he’s been pinched. “Hi, gorgeous,” you say. 
Carmen laughs, that little shy one that’s more of a big puff of air than a chuckle. He shakes his head at you, still not used to someone being so excited about his presence, so…enamored by him. 
“Hey, you,” Carmy answers, placing both of his hands on your cheeks. He stares at you for a moment. He’s trying to drink you in. He does this every chance he gets because he literally cannot believe you’re real. He’s not dissociating, he’s not daydreaming. This is his life.
Your already broad smile widens as you take the opportunity to stare back at him. Your eyes wander to his just-too-long sideburns. “I think it’s time for a trim again, Carm. Lookin’ a little grizzly there.” You ruffle his curls, which feel surprisingly clean. 
Carmy watches you bite your thumbnail in an effort to conceal the laugh threatening to burst from your throat due to your own horrible joke. 
“Ha, ha. So funny.”
He puts the car in drive and listens to you giggle to yourself as you fasten your seatbelt. Neither of you say much on the very short drive to the park across the street, knowing you’ll be able to vent as much as you please while you eat. 
“Cross your fingers our bench is free?” you say, raising your hand up towards Carmen. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as if that also counts as a way of manifesting your favorite seat. Carmy lifts his fingers in the air, the middle crossed over the index and gently knocks his hand against yours. 
You pull into the parking lot, the sound of gravel crunching beneath tires filling your ears, and your gaze immediately flies to the bench underneath the biggest tree with the most shade and the best view for people watching. “Fuck, yeah!” you shout, a brilliant smile blooming on your face as you unbuckle. 
Carmy laughs for real this time, the corners of his eyes going all soft and crinkly at your joy. “Run over there and claim it, yeah? I’ll grab everything.”
You push open the car door and stand quickly, smoothing the sweet ruffles of your dress. You wink, already starting to happily jog away. “Yes, chef!” Carm catches your salute just before he reaches in the backseat for the cooler and bag of food he brought with him from the restaurant.
On your bench, you prop your hand on your chin, tuck your foot under your thigh, and watch as Carmen walks up the short little incline to you. He looks gorgeous.
He’s wearing jeans, Levi’s that hug his ass and thighs just right. He has on an old “I heart New York” t-shirt that he only wears when he hasn’t caught up on laundry (and only bought for that same reason a few years ago). 
His curls and necklace bounce almost in sync, and you can’t help but think that he just looks so pure and free.
And he’s got this glint in his eye that’s directed right on you. 
“Ebra made your favorite. He heard I was meeting you for lunch and insisted he do it,” Carmy says, snapping you out of your how-could-this-man-get-any-more-sexy daze. 
He places the tin foil wrapped sandwich in front of you, pretending not to notice the way you’re gawking at him. “I swear he’s never been so gentle with roast beef.”
You smile, pulling up the strap on your dress where it’s started to slip. Carmy leans over the table to press a kiss to your shoulder. It makes your stomach flip. 
“Did he make yours for you?” you ask, mouth watering impatiently as you lift the still-warm bread up so you can take a messy bite. 
Carmen hands you a napkin. “Put that over your chest—yeah, like that. So you don’t get your dress dirty.” He rips open a bag of chips for you to share. “But to answer your question, fuck no he didn’t.”
You toss your head back and laugh. “You’ll have to tell him I said thank you for making such a yummy lunch for me.” Your boyfriend watches as you suck a stream of au jus from your thumb. 
Carmy scoffs playfully. You wink at him. “I did have the cutest delivery boy though.”
His brow raises, and the corners of his mouth quirk while he chews on the handful of potato chips he’s just shoved in his mouth. “Oh yeah?”
You hum. “Yep. Cute even with roast beef stuck in his teeth.”
Carmy falls for it, quickly taking a sip of his drink like he’s going to wash the beef free. But the twinkle in your eye tips him off. “You’re fuckin’ with me?”
You wipe your grinning mouth. “‘Course I am, Bear.”
Carmen raises up from his side of the picnic table just enough so that he’s leaning across to meet you halfway. He waves you closer with his hands. “Come on now, you owe me a kiss for bein’ a little shit.”
You brace your palms against the worn—and slightly damp from last night's rain shower—wood, quickly connecting your lips with Carmy’s. 
You do this thing where you start smiling into the kiss and in turn it makes Carmen smile because your giddiness to have your mouth on his is insanely fucking contagious, and he’d be a damn fool not to join in.
When you pull apart you make sure to quickly kiss both of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. “There’s your tip for being such a pretty delivery boy and bringin’ me lunch.”
The both of you settle into quiet conversation, catching up on whatever as you finish your sandwiches and drinks. Carmy reaches across the table to hold your hand, rubbing the pads of his fingers over your polished nails. He likes the way they feel.
As a surprise to end your lunch hour, he pulls out a little back holding two oversized oatmeal raisin cookies. One for each of you. And he knows those are your favorite. You do a happy little wiggle in your seat when you see them. It makes him laugh, makes his stomach flip. 
“Marcus made a batch of these, just tryin’ out cookie recipes? We thought having them out front for people to grab on their way out would be smart.”
You take the cookie from him. “That is smart. And I already know it’s gonna be yummy.”
“Damn straight. I ate like, four of them as my breakfast and lunch yesterday. But that’s not important. How’s work so far?” 
You’ll have to berate him about that later. The man cannot eat cookies and wash them down with Pepto Bismol and call it a day. 
You demolish your cookie within seconds. “Work has been so fuckin’ slow today, Bear. We’ve had all these no shows, so I got set up and then they don’t come and now I’ll have to send them the files about the fee.”
“You want me to yell at ‘em for you? Tell them how they’re missin’ out on the world’s best haircut and color?”
You smack him playfully on the wrist. “I just love my job, y’know? So it sucks when I sit there playin’ on my phone instead of listening to all the gossip my customers bring me.”
Carmy downs the rest of his Coke and swipes the back of his hand across his mouth. “If it helps, I’ll let you give me that trim after service tonight.”
“At least I know you won’t cancel on me.”
Carmen watches you for a minute, losing himself in now fucking ethereal you are. He’s never imagined himself using the word, but that’s the only proper way to describe you. And he secretly loves you cutting his hair because your hands feel so good, especially when you wash it for him. 
“I’ll tip you real good too, baby.” Carmy blushes at his own joke and it makes you laugh. Mid-laugh though, your eyes widen like you’ve just had an idea. It feels a little devious to him.
You pull out your phone. “Oh! When I was doomscrolling this morning, I found this video of blueberry muffins—dammit, of course I can’t find it now—but they had the…the…”
You lift your hand, wiggling your fingers in a sort of sprinkly motion like you’re try to demonstrate what you’d seen. “The crumbly shit, Carm! I don’t know what the fuck it’s called.”
You reach over and take both of his hands. “Point is, they looked really yummy and I wondered if you’d help me make them?”
Carmy starts chuckling. He definitely knew what you were talking about with your hand gesture, since you’re always making them and he’s got them memorized by now, but it’s so fucking fun to see your brain work. 
He begins to gather up your trash and put it back in the bag he brought it in. 
“Yeah, I think I have enough flour and shit. There’s some frozen blueberries in the back of the freezer. But do you want the crumbly shit, or streusel?”
“Carmen, sweet angel baby, I don’t know what streusel is.”
“It’s usually got cinnamon and nuts and shit, so that’s what we’ll do because I know how you like your nuts, love.”
You take his hand when he offers it to help you stand. You smack a big, wet kiss on his lip. You let your eyes drag up and down his form before you begin to walk back to the car. 
“Sure do, Carmy.”
————
“You don’t need a recipe or anything?”
Carm presses a sweet kiss to your lips and passes you a few fresh blueberries to snack on. He’d grabbed some at the store on the way home because was he really going to teach his girlfriend how to make muffins with a questionable bag of frozen blueberries? Fuck no.
“Nah, it’s all pretty simple. I’ll tell you everything to do, and I can write one out for you if you ever wanna make ‘em when I’m not home.”
You pinch his sides, raising up on your tippy toes to express your giddiness. “Really? Holy shit, I love that.”
He lets out a huff of a laugh. “Yeah?” Carmen cups your chin, tilting your mouth up to meet his because he wants a kiss.
You start to talk while his lips are still on yours. “It’s your handwriting. I have a thing for it.”
He bites your bottom lip playfully. “You’re insane,” he says, smiling through each syllable. He pulls back briefly. “That reminds me, I got you somethin’.”
Carmen walks to the living room and pulls something out of his work bag. “Does this have to do with my insanity?” you ask, jokingly. 
He shakes his head. “Only with your insanely cute ass.” He holds up an apron. “It’s your honorary chef apron. Ta-da.”
It’s the same blue as his at work, except it has a ruffled hem and the logo for The Bear embroidered on the chest. Your brows shoot up.
“You got this today, Carm?” The alarm in your voice makes him smile. 
Carmy walks up to you and starts tying it around your waist. “No, no, not today. I got it awhile back, but you bringing up muffins made me remember I’d ordered it. It came with the chef’s whites and shit.”
“You got it made for me?” Your voice pitches up a notch, causing Carmen to spin you around so you’re facing him. 
“‘Course I did. Couldn’t leave my number one out. And yours is cuter than everyone else’s.”
Your eyes water, just slightly, and you start smothering Carmy’s face with kisses until he starts to giggle boyishly. “Okay, okay!” he fusses, “No tears, only muffins.” He grabs your hips and moves you in front of the counter where he’s laid out all the ingredients for you. “Let’s get movin’ now, yeah? This shit is making me hungry.”
————
“Why do they tell you to fold it in? I’m not doing fuckin’ laundry, Bear.”
Carmy is sitting on the counter next to you, watching you intensely. There are floury handprints on your apron and you have your tongue poking out in concentration. He keeps bringing a straw to your lips every few minutes to keep you hydrated, like this is a very important surgical operation. 
“Probably ‘cause it looks like folds when you do that?” You smack him on the knee and continue to fold in all the ingredients, pretending like you don’t see exactly what he means.
Once you feel like it’s all combined you let go of the spatula and turn to Carmen. 
“What now, Bear?”
“You gotta mix up the sugar and the flour and the cinnamon, and then you can add your little nut mixture and I’ll show you how to do the butter.”
You reach for the collection of small glass bowls Carmy set out for you. “So sassy,” you say, shaking your shoulder just a little. 
He smiles at you and extends a socked foot out to lightly kick you on the butt. But you were expecting it, so you reach behind you and grab his ankle, tickling the bottom of his foot, which is where he’s most ticklish. It’s his Achilles heel. 
Carmy releases a short bout of laughter before pulling away from you to catch his breath. “Fucker.”
You grin, leaning over the sink to wash your hands for the umpteenth time. “But I’m your fucker, angel boy.”
He hops off the counter, scooching in behind you to press a kiss to your clammy cheek. “Can’t argue with that,” he says. 
Carm watches over your shoulder as you add a small mix of crushed almonds, granola, and pecans to your streusel topping. “Good job, baby. Now I need you to cut a few pats of butter and add ‘em in. Just do a few—yeah, just like that—and you can start mixing it up. You can use your hands if you need to since it gets so difficult to stir.”
The warmth of Carmy’s chest against your back should be unnerving, what with him observing your every move. 
But it isn’t. Rather, it's comforting. When the butter combines with your little potion mix as much as it can, you use your hands to make sure nothing gets left behind. 
“You’re very good at making sure the crumbly shit is crumbly, lovebug.”
You look over your shoulder at Carmen as you finally slide the finished tray into the oven. “I’m givin’ you a run for your money, aren’t I, Bear?”
He smiles at you, reaching around your waist to untie your apron and lift it over your head. He hangs it on the little rack meant for keys. “Might have to tell Marcus about this. Get you in there, helpin’ him decorate donuts and shit.”
You push up on your toes and wrap your arms around Carmy’s neck. His go around the small of your back like that’s the only job they’ve ever had. 
“So you can throw them on the floor?” you quip, biting your lip to hold back a laugh. You know you’re being a little shit, but at least it’s a memory you can all laugh at now. 
Carmy’s lips quirk up at the corners. His right hand lowers and squeezes at the fat of your ass, a little menacingly, but loving all the same. “Never gonna let me live that down, huh?”
You lower your forehead so that it’s resting on Carm’s chest. He feels your giggle against his skin. Feels the way your fingers play with his necklace where they rest at the back of his neck. It’s giving him goosebumps. 
“Nope,” you say, that cute little teasing lilt to your voice. 
Carmy tightens his grip around your waist and lifts you up into the air, spinning you around his small kitchen a few times. Just enough that you squeal out of surprise, out of pure, unadulterated joy because of this romantic ass gesture that feels straight out of a story book. You pop your feet up for good measure. You could never let Princess Mia down like that.
When he sets you down, you both stare at each other for a moment, catching your breath with these stupid happy smiles on your faces. And right there, you both feel that little bolt of electricity. The one that tells you this will never go away. This connection is everlasting. 
It takes a minute for you to register that you’re both shuffling lightly across the floor, in gentle, sloppy circles. 
You look down at Carmy’s socked feet and back up to meet his eyes. “Does this count as dancing?”
He scratches his nose. “Couldn’t tell you.”
You kiss the spot where he was self-consciously rubbing. “Maybe we should practice, you know, in case we need to dance someday.”
Carmen snorts. “Yeah, maybe, sweetheart.”
You play with the curls around his ears, remembering your promise to give him that trim. “Have you ever danced, Mr. Berzatto?”
He kisses you. “Only alone in my room.”
You kiss him. “That what you do when I’m not around?”
He kisses you a second time. “Yep. Busted. But Richie used to try and make us play Just Dance with him when he got drunk.” He grins at the little chuckle you let out. “What about you?” he starts. “Have a past dancing career?”
You shake your head, admiring every little freckle on his face. Every little dry patch of skin, every line. 
“In high school, me and my girlfriends would usually just hold hands and spin around in a little dance circle since we were all single. It was very cool of us.”
“I would’ve paid to see that,” Carmy says, cupping your jaw. You grin up at him, eyes twinkling. You imagine you’ve got big ‘ol pink hearts fluttering back and forth at him. 
You both melt into each other after that. Slowly shuffling around the kitchen, hips swaying to music that isn’t there. Usually Carmy would be on the verge of shitting his pants in a situation like this, but…it’s you. You’re safe. 
Why wouldn’t he dance with you? 
Carmen brings his lips to your ear. “Is there music in your head right now?”
“Rick Astley,” you whisper. 
Carmy blinks. 
And then he tosses his head back, laughing. “Seriously?” 
“Nope. I just wanted to hear you laugh,” you say, and kiss the chuckle right off his lips. He kisses you back, pecking your lips three times in quick succession because one is just never enough. You tug on a curl. “We’re stupid in love, aren’t we?”
“We’re dancing, shuffling like old people really, in my shitty kitchen on a weeknight, and waiting on blueberry muffins that I’m pretty sure we’ll finish within the hour.”
“Oh my god, Bear.”
“Yeah, baby. We’re stupid in love.”
You are. And when you sit on the kitchen floor, your socked feet in his lap, eating warm muffins and getting butter all over your fingers and down your wrists, that only confirms it. 
Those are the best damn muffins you’ve ever had. And Carmy’s lips taste like blueberries for the rest of the night. 
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!
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redcherrykook · 3 months ago
Text
── ˙✧°📷 𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚! 3 (𝙏𝙥𝙖𝙛𝙡 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙗𝙡𝙚)
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Drabble three! of Torn pictures and frozen lenses couple!
────୨ৎ────
content: fluff, comfort, period pain, crying, cuddles, Jungkook being a softie
note from cherry: i'm obsessed with this couple rn and i got my period today soo thats the inspo.
I need to be held by koo so bad :,(
────୨ৎ────
8 full hours of Jungkook working go by extremly slow on days he wouldn't be seeing you in the hallways,
This morning you'd stayed in bed due to feeling sick and dizzy, he let you sleep with a kiss to your forhead
The drive back home, all he was looking forward to after a long exhausting day was seeing you, quietly winding down together
Instead, he'd open the door to you curled up on the couch, stuffed hello kitty clutched in your arms,
"Baby?" He sighs, swiftly taking off his shoes and coat, crouching down in front of the couch
Upon further inspection on your bundled up form, you laid there in his hoodie, tears streaming down your pretty, sleepy face
"hey kook" you sniffle, wiping your tears with a small smile,
He knew exactly what was wrong, all the signs pointing towards it,
"Come here..my poor little lady, your period came right?" he speaks into your hair softly once managing to get on to the couch, pulling you into his lap,
His head nuzzles into your hair, big palms stroking your back, pressing you against his chest
You nod, completely burned out from the pain of your cramps, reaching all the way to your lower back, the pouding headache you have only worsening from having cried so much
"Its alright, come on i'll hold you"
"i missed you" you sniffle again, pressing your head into his chest and inhaling his sweet masculine scent
He humms, "i missed you too, its so boring without my favorite bad student" joking at that, he knew full well how much you improved, having spent hours together
He did miss you though, a lot
However, from the sound of your increased sniffling he could tell that this wasn't the right time,
Not at all
"you think im so stupid don't you?" you cry softly into his chest, feeling so overcome by anger and sadness,
His heart clenches a little; guilt quickly catching up to him
His hand moves to the back of your head, caressing your head so carefully,
The other one lifts you by your chin, making you look at him through sad teary eyes
"Shh i´m sorry baby i´m sorry.. i didn´t mean it, i was just joking. You're so smart baby.. i´m sorry" his gentle voice is accompanied by the many kisses he places all over your face
A small but sincere smile creeping up to your face immediately
"Hmm okay" you giggle and he smiles too, squeezing your cheeks between his thumb and index finger
The rapid change of emotions almost making him giggle aswell,
What a cute mess he has got.
"Come on, let me get this pretty girl into bed"
quickly you're clinging on to him like your life depens on it, with a kiss to your temple he lays you down into the comfy, pillowy sheets,
Wrapping his arms around you from behind to sneak his hands on your lower tummy, pressing and caressing there to sooth the pain with pressure,
"Thank you kook" you say, stoking his arm,
He responds by placing a kiss to your hair, then moving his head down to rest on your shoulder,
"Did you eat? Want me to make you a nice sweet treat?" his suggestion sounds so good, not haven eaten all day because of feeling genuinely sick, too dizzy to even do anything other than to lay down,
"Couldn't yet.. but, please do.. that would be so nice" you hum, turning your head to kiss him lovingly,
He takes the kiss, smiling into it while continuing to massage your lower tummy,
"let me take care of you pretty, just lay here and look cute while you wait" he winks, hugging you tight and pressing a last, long kiss to your lips before standing up from the bed
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lecsainz · 1 year ago
Note
Hi can you please do one about the Travis and Taylor rumours going around. Maybe like your Taylor’s sister dating Travis secretly for awhile now and your pregnant. And like the Taylor concert he went to he was like there with you and the football that Taylor went to she was like there with you. And it all comes out that he’s with you and not Taylor and they find out your pregnant and all and are so shocked and didn’t see it coming. Like if that makes sense 🙂
EVERYONE WAS WRONG
parings: travis kelce + swift!reader
author 🗒️’s: I missed writing smau 😭
summary: where you are taylor swift sister and there’s something with travis but everyone thinks he and taylor are dating.
✩. . . masterlist !
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liked by selenagomez, icespice and 1.989.073 others
ynswift can I say I'm cheating on the eagles?
tag: @/taylorswift @/chiefs
see all 65.638 comments
taylorswift still can't believe you made me come to this game
⤷ ynswift didn't force you at all!
user6 love seeing the swift sisters together
killatrav It was nice meeting you, y/n
⤷ ynswift likewise, kelce
⤷ killatrav hope to see you girls at the next game
⤷ ynswift I need to check my schedule
user1 y/n being the cupid of tayvis
user Is it confirmed that taylor and travis are together???
⤷ user4 I think so
user2 she it's me in life: the friend who always couples people up
user5 andrea, please adopt me to be their sister!
⤷ ynswift mom said she'd adopt!
⤷ user5 OH MY GOD
philadelphiaeagles no comments
⤷ ynswift I swear we still loyal to your team
user7 I want a tayvis photo, make it happen y/n!
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Y/N and Travis had met during a The Eras concert, what seemed like a normal show turned into something entirely different. Y/N didn't expect it until she literally ran into this 6'5'' tall man. He was so much taller than her that she couldn't help but feel incredibly drawn to the unknown man, so much so that she forgot how to speak when he asked if she was okay.
Travis found the blonde girl utterly charming and just had to ask for her number. However, instead of getting her number, he received a polite but firm "no." That piqued the curiosity of the Kansas City Chiefs' tight end. With determination, he approached one of the security guards to inquire about the mysterious blonde girl. After a bit of investigating, he finally discovered that she was Y/N Swift, the younger sister of the famous Taylor Swift.
Travis couldn't help but be intrigued by this revelation. He felt compelled to get to know Y/N better, despite the initial rejection. It took him over a week to gather the courage to send her a direct message. When he did, he invited her to an Eagles game, which he later learned was the Swift family's favorite team, and having her older brother on the team made it easier to secure a private suite for their date.
As the two of them spent more time together, a genuine connection began to form. Y/N was captivated by Travis's charisma and his down-to-earth personality, something she hadn't experienced with anyone in a long time. Travis, on the other hand, was smitten with Y/N's intelligence, warmth, and her unique ability to make him forget about the pressures of the football field.
One date led to another, and before they knew it, they were deeply involved in a relationship that neither had anticipated. Their connection was electric, and they couldn't get enough of each other's company.
As the days turned into weeks and then into months, Y/N and Travis's bond grew stronger. They had shared dreams, inside jokes, and an unspoken understanding that went beyond the public eye. But their connection was shrouded in secrecy, as Y/N didn't want to overshadow her sister's fame and success.
Despite their efforts to keep things private, the media eventually caught wind of their relationship. Reports began to circulate, with speculations of a romance between Travis and Taylor Swift, not Y/N. The rumors hurt Y/N, as it seemed like her own life would always be overshadowed by her sister's immense fame.
Little did she know that amidst the media frenzy and the complications of their secret relationship, she would find herself facing an unexpected twist of fate – she was pregnant with Travis's child.
As days turned into weeks, Y/N couldn't keep the secret any longer. She knew she needed to tell Travis about the life-changing news, despite the fear and uncertainty that loomed over her. She had never been in a situation like this before.
One evening, she decided it was time to confide in Travis. With her heart pounding, she went to his house, her mind filled with thoughts of how he might react. Would he be overwhelmed? Would he want to be a part of this?
Travis opened the door and smiled warmly at her, inviting her in. Y/N took a deep breath and began, "Travis, there's something I need to talk to you about, something important."
Travis's expression shifted from curiosity to concern. "What's going on, Y/N? You look serious."
Y/N took a deep breath and began, "Travis, there's something I need to tell you. It's not easy, and we didn't plan for this, but..." She paused, her eyes glistening with emotion, "I'm pregnant."
For a few seconds, there was silence. Travis processed the information, and his eyes filled with a mix of emotions, but he didn't look away from Y/N. Then, a gentle smile crossed his face. "Y/N, are you serious? We're going to be parents?"
Y/N nodded with a soft smile. "Yes, Travis. I'm pregnant."
Travis leaned in closer, his face filled with emotion. "That's incredible! I can't believe it. I'm going to be a dad."
Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she saw his genuine excitement. "I'm so glad you're happy, Travis. I was worried about how you'd react."
Travis took her hands in his and looked deeply into her eyes. "Y/N, I couldn't be happier. This is a beautiful surprise, and I'm looking forward to this journey with you. We'll figure everything out together."
Y/N felt a wave of relief wash over her. She couldn't believe how supportive Travis was being. "Travis, you have no idea how much this means to me. I was so afraid to tell you."
Travis took her hand and said, "Y/N, I care about you more than I can express. In fact, there's something I've been wanting to ask you for a while now." He got down on one knee, pulling a small box from his pocket. "Will you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?"
Y/N's eyes welled up with tears of joy as she nodded and replied, "Yes, Travis, a thousand times, yes."
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liked by taylorswift, annehathaway and 23.366.133 others ynswift & killatrav you said I do and I did too
comments have been limited
taylorswift so happy for you both 🤍 and travis you better take good care of my little sister!
austinkingsleyswift congrats sis!
jason.kelce finally, you guys announced it! I couldn't stand not being able to talk about it anymore. congratulations lovebirds!
chiefs welcome to chiefs family y/n!
donnakelce I'm so happy to have you in the family now y/n! 💕
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mountkennedie · 3 months ago
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Late Nights
Edward Cullen x reader
Summary: you have a cozy night with edward
warnings: none
A.N. this quickly became one of my favorite fics ever written
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"Edward?" You asked. Currently you splayed out horizontally on your bed on a cool fall day. The sweater you were wearing provided you an extra dose of comfort to the general energy of the room. Edward, your boyfriend, was laid parallel to you. His dark blue sweater matched yours. The color coordinating plaid fleece pajamas were also a nice touch on the pair of you. It was something cute you've always wanted to do, couple twinning. And Edward was willing to do whatever to make you happy.
"Yes?" He maintained a easy going smile while looking at you. You had been rereading A Wrinkle In Time. An easy read of course, but always put your mind at peace. Edward didn't have a book to read or really anything to pass time. He says he is perfectly content in your company, but you still wonder what he would be doing had you not been here. Probably pressing those same piano keys in infinite rhythms until disturbed.
"What is your favorite color?" A very innocent question. But what is the harm in that? The both of you have shared some crushing memories and experiences, you may as well know the mundane as well.
His smile grew and his eyebrows knitted. "Blue. Why do you ask?" He didn't have a genuine serious undertone behind the question. He was always trying to learn the way you were. Being unable to read your mind made you a puzzle he reveled in attempting to crack. Every time he would expect you to act in a certain way, you gave him a surprise in return.
"I was curious," you turn on your side and face him. Edward being Edward, he mirrors you. "You seem like a lover of blue. But I could also see a deep green. Like forest green," your voice was kept quiet. The wind looting the leaves can still be heard as you speak. You didn't need to speak so soft, your family was away for the night. You could scream for all that mattered, however keeping a small vocal presence felt appropriate. Anything louder than a calm word would be disturbing the peace of the environment.
His face pinched up for a moment, but then returned to his normal expression. "I fell out of love for green a long while ago. Blue is so rarely seen here, at least in the sky," he finished that quip with a cheesy smile. "Blue being rare has given itself a new place of importance," his eyes glanced down to your sweater then back into you, "in my heart."
Your bodies both hanged off different ends of the bed, luckily your heads were in the same placement. So when you lifted your hand to rest on his cheek, it wasn't a far reach. Your thumb brushed the cool skin, Edwards eyes never left yours for a moment. The golden iris' were filled with adoration. His hand came to rest on yours. The chill adding to the comfort he was already bestowing.
"What do you think mine is?" You whispered.
"Purple, for sure," he answered without even thinking. And of course he was right.
"Asking Alice counts as cheating," he leaned into your hand and chuckled. The kiss he left on the palm made you smile a little harder than you already had been.
"I didn't cheat," he spoke into your hand. "Everywhere we go shopping, your eyes are drawn to the same three colors. Green, black and purple, with a special affinity for purple. Oh and you wear a lot of purple in the pictures of you on your family's mantle."
"Am I that easy to read?" He pressed another kiss to your palm. He shook his head lightly at your comment.
"If only," he joked. After his joke the wind picked up outside, this time accompanied by a steady flow of rain. You sat up and looked at him, he copied you once again.
"If you ran home fast enough, how wet would you be? Would you even get wet?" He listened to your questions while helping fix your hair that had flattened due to laying down.
"Well I would get wet regardless. Probably not too bad but definitely damp." He finished his work and pulled you close to him so your entire body faced him. "And is this your way of kicking me out?" He chuckled again at his smart remark.
"It is very thoughtful that you worry on the safety of a hundred year old vampire." He placed a kiss to your eyelid, "I'd be sure not to run too fast. And I am fully comfortable staying in for the night. But," his voice matched your previous tone, "you must sleep tonight. I want 8 full hours."
"No you are staying." You threw your arms over his shoulders, your faces a few inches apart. "I don't want you outside, especially running in this weather. The roads are slippery," your tone changed to one more serious.
"I was going to sleep!" you argued. "...once I finished the next chapter of my book," you hoped the small smile you sent him would win him over.
"Of the book you've reread numerous times?" You didn't respond, only looked at him and shrugged. "Fine," he always gave in to you. "At least let me read it to you."
You smiled and got comfortable under your covers. You pulled back your comforter for him to join you underneath. He smiled and shook his head. But still wanting to do whatever makes you happy, climbed in. You clung onto his arm, he responded by kissing your head. You were convinced he read the book in a soft, quiet voice on purpose. Because no matter how strong your will to finish the chapter, you still were whisked away into sleep.
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pricegouge · 2 months ago
Text
cw: fat femme reader. shitty tinder dates. alcohol mentioned but not consumed. that's it. written on my lunch break and unedited so mind the mess
divider by @/cafekitsune | taglist @pricegouged
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You're on your second drink when you swear off dating apps altogether. 
Dylan - fine, normal, everyday, run-of-the-mill Dylan - had exposed himself fairly early as too fine and normal, and therefore boring, which wouldn't have been too big a problem if he hadn't also been leaning further and further into the asshole category with each passing minute.
The snide little comment about your weight would be enough to send you packing early under any normal circumstances, except you'd been an idiot who'd let him pick you up so you needed a ride home, and why pay for an Uber when you can be mean right back?
It takes you a moment to arrive at that conclusion, though, stopping mid sip of your water to arch your eyebrows at this pathetic little thing before you with enough force to have him backpedaling. You watch him flounder for a moment, considering your options, not listening at all as he tries to clarify that he's 'into it, though - big girls, that is'.
You roll your eyes away from him, pretend to watch the highlight reel of last night's match from where it plays on the outdated CRT in the corner. It's not even a good place for a date, really, a self-serve popcorn machine in the corner offering pre-fingered snacks and a low liquor shelf behind the bar suggesting you'd best be thirsty for something with no more than three ingredients. You're not exactly the snooty type, but you suddenly realize you should maybe learn to know your worth better because you cannot ever sit across the table from someone who's read The Game ever again. One more time might kill you, funeral expenses legally billable to Neil Strauss and everything. 
Except your new standards will have to be enacted in the morning because you suddenly refuse to spend a fucking dime on this terrible outing.
Dylan still looks slightly panicked when you turn back to him with a shy little affected smile and a demure batting of your eyelashes. You watch in real time as his expression shifts from pure panic at a gamble ventured and lost, to surprised delight when he thinks it's paying off. You let him keep thinking that, draw quiet and reserved the more dinner draws on though jokes on you there, because that just means you have to hear him talk more and it's a struggle to pretend you don't find the damn coasters more interesting than him at this point. 
(They're cardboard and growing waterlogged from condensation, the local brewery's logo becoming easily peelable. It's become your mission to get a clean pull by the end of his long winded ramble, though he's so invested in hearing himself talk that you surpass your goal twice, peeling both the front and back off the coaster and sticking the limp paper to your glass, pressing out air bubbles with your fingers like you're carefully applying proper labeling. He doesn't stop talking until your glass is labeled front and back, real professional.)
When he asks if you're ready to go you perk up like a dog hearing its favorite word. You wanna go for a ride? Hm? You ready to go home, girl? Your nod is bobble-headed, eager. You let him misread it because you're an asshole and because you did say in your profile that you weren't looking for hookups so really it's his own fault if he blue balls himself. 
The ride back is short, easy. You don't know if it's better or worse that he doesn't bother flirting with you here or test your expectations with a cheeky little hand on your thigh. Instead, his grip remains carefully at ten and two and you're grateful he's not touching you, really, but you know what he expects from you in a matter of mere moments, hours, whatever, and it pisses you off that he doesn't even bother warming you up to the idea by grabbing a feel of those 'big thighs' he's 'into.' So you let yourself stew, fuel for the fire, and you fiddle with his heat controls just because you can. 
If he was so dead set on ending this night all hot and wet, you could help him with that at least.
Sweat beads at Dylan's temple when he pulls into the intricate webbing of drives which make up your apartment complex. It's a nice enough place, one you can only afford with the help of one too many roommates. The steep rent is worth it though for nights like tonight, when apprehension begins to pool in your belly as you try to steel yourself for the small confrontation you're about to initiate. Dylan may have been a little weasel but he wasn't exactly contentious so you're not expecting anything too major to come of this, but it's reassuring to see so many people still out and about enjoying the cool fall evening. It's still fairly early, mothers only just heading back from the park with their double wide buggies taking up half the drive. They shoot Dylan ugly looks as he passes, just a hair too fast for their unofficial neighborhood watch. At least you know they'll be on your side if he really starts to act up.
Dylan does not need reminding which specific branches lead to your building, rolling to a stop next to your own car which you try not to look at with any familiarity. You may have already made the mistake of giving him your address, but every morsel of information he might glean about you now feels like a theft, and even what you had for breakfast is suddenly a dark secret you'd like to keep from him for no real reason. 
It's hard looking at Dylan now too, the shyness you'd been playing up before all of a sudden a very real obstacle as your eyes wander your building's facade, as if even you aren't certain which bay window is yours. Your lights are all off, you note with some annoyance, your roommates not home despite the fact they said they would be. 
'Up all night waiting for you,' Carren had winked, her big cheeky smile something you've never had cause to mistrust before. You gotta work on your naivete. 
Your eyes keep moving, resolved not to give away even your apartment number by being too obvious. They catch on the patio next door, however, when you spot your neighbor Kyle sitting on his Adirondack chair, smoking a cigarette as he watches this new car pointedly, doing nothing to hide his curiosity. 
If you had been smart you would've told Dylan to pick you up a few buildings down so he wouldn't even have the proper section, but the relief you feel at seeing your sweet, hot, extremely fit neighbor outside playing guard dog more than makes up for your mistake. So much so that your fingers don't falter when they find the handle, emergency release ready to be disengaged. You turn back to Dylan with a too-sweet smile and thank him for dinner again, already leaning out the door when he stutters something about having a good time.
"Yeah, me too," you call over your shoulder, beelining it for Kyle's patio because you've had enough drinks in that vacant chair across from him to know you're always welcome, especially in a situation like this. Sure enough, Kyle perks up when he sees it's you climbing out of the strange car, and then furrows his brow over your shoulder when you hear Dylan climbing out after you. Some snivelly little creature you've been trying to kill since you turned eighteen holds the reins when you turn back to him despite your better instincts, your need to avoid a scene outweighing everything else in that moment.
Your date's facade is visibly crumbling now, his frustration obvious in the set of his jaw and the sweat at his temples. You wonder if perhaps the thermostat had been a bit much and then immediately decide you don't care when he stammers something about maybe coming in for a glass of something nicer than what the restaurant had to offer. 
Presumptuous. "I don't," you blurt, only continuing when he blinks at you in confusion, "drink anything nice, that is." Across the lawn, you think you hear Kyle snort.
"Uh… coffee?" Dylan asks, just as stubborn as you.
"Gave up caffeine," you lie, trying not to think about the lovely mocha creation Kyle will likely offer you momentarily when you tell him you've got a splitting headache.
To his credit, Dylan doesn't quite pout. "Right. Well. Do this again sometime?"
And you're already on a roll with the lies so you just carry right on with them, chirping out a high, "Sure!" before trying to turn on your heel.
But you're out of niceties when a firm grip on your shoulder keeps you in place, Dylan's scraggly mustache looming into your space as you watch his lips pucker in horror. 
"Oh I'm good, thanks!" you squeak, yanking yourself out of his grip. A laugh bubbles out of you afterward, uncomfortable but still amused by your own reaction. Your satisfaction only grows when Dylan begins to look genuinely pissy. This was exactly what you wanted to avoid but you're past the point of caring.
"Is that it, then?" Dylan huffs, taking a daring step forward. 
You slide back, lock step. "'Fraid so."
"Even after I bought you dinner?"
"And made me feel bad about eating it?" You scoff. "Yeah."
"I drove all the way out from -."
"What's all this?"
You're not sure who jumps more at Kyle's sudden appearance. He hovers by your shoulder, a silent type of fury pulling at his pretty face. You forget sometimes he's military, his general geniality always setting you at ease. It makes this new version of him all the more frightening, a lethal force sitting pretty at your side. 
This is what makes the rent worth it, honestly.
"Kyle, this is Dylan. My date for the night."
Kyle hums, clearly unconcerned with the specifics. "Well, night's over."
You smirk up at where the sun still lingers over the horizon, pale behind its cloudy cover but present all the same. "Indeed."
"Piss off, mate," Dylan tries, his voice sterner than you'd originally given him credit for. 
You raise your brow at him but Kyle doesn't even bother. He turns to you and smiles, eyes crinkling around the corners, much too tight to be natural. "Luvie, will you go get us some drinks? Sliding door's unlocked."
Part of you rankles at the dismissal, but a bigger part of you does indeed want to be done with this horrible man so you nod, wave a sarcastic two finger salute at Dylan and finally make your way back across the lawn, slipping into Kyle's warm and cozy apartment with a sigh of relief. 
For all the friendly patio drinks you've had with him since moving in, you've never actually stepped foot in Kyle's place. You take a moment to admire it, noting the cleanliness and a tidiness which undeniably spoke of a military career. Still, small concessions to his personality dotted the walls and surfaces. A fresh laundry scented candle, a stack of blu-rays, framed pictures of people you've never met all grinning happily. You spot Kyle's same smile reflected back at you from all these different faces, his entire family evidently blessed with that thousand watt grin and you wonder how one camera could sustain all those lumens being beamed at it.
The layout matches yours, simply reflected. You find the kitchen easily, again noting the cleanliness with a nod of approval. Someday he'd retire and settle down, make someone extremely happy. You could only hope you would be long gone by then because the jealousy might truly drive you to desperate measures. Like taking Tinder back up again, for example. The notion draws you to the kitchen window, quest for beverages all but forgotten when you see Kyle leaning over Dylan's shoulder as the latter man flips through his phone. You frown in confusion, drawing closer to the window as Kyle reaches out and starts poking around your date's phone on his own. It's cracked open, crisp fall breeze whistling through. It drowns out the noise of the conversation but you try anyway, ears straining for any word whispered between the two. A moment passes, another. Dylan becomes increasingly agitated while Kyle stays the picture of controlled severity. You don't hear either of them at all until Kyle's eyes dart to the apartment, finding yours instantly. You gulp, feeling as if you've been caught despite not actually doing anything wrong anyway, and suddenly Kyle's veneer breaks like a thunder cloud. He claps Dylan on the shoulder heavily, turning his beaming smile on the smaller man and calling him a good lad.
Dylan mutters something indiscernible and turns back towards his car, resolutely ignoring as Kyle calls out overly friendly farewells. The engine rips to life, a low growl which suggests it's in dire need of an oil change. Still, it bravely fires up and carries Dylan away, Kyle turning back to you with a roll of his eyes which seemed to say 'this fuckin' guy.'
You grin at him, rolling your eyes right back before ducking your head, suddenly bashful under your neighbor's full attention. Drinks forgotten, you meet him at the door and thank him profusely, ignoring the way he tries to wave it off as if it was nothing,
"No, seriously, Kyle, that was very much appreciated. Probably not necessary but appreciated anyway. Please let me know if there's ever a way I can make it up to you."
And now Kyle's smirk is salacious. Great. "Well, you can join me for that drink I requested to start," he laughs, waving you back into his apartment. "Then you can tell me what you were doing on a date with a guy like that."
"Hm," you hum, already given in but thinking of how you can get what you want out of him first. Your scheming has already worked out so well for you tonight, after all. "Sure, but first you gotta tell me what you were doing on his phone."
He doesn't even miss a beat. "No can do. Top secret stuff."
"Oh," you scoff, allowing yourself to be corralled toward the couch. It's surprisingly soft, instantly cocooning you the moment you slump into it. A woven blanket hangs over the back of it which you wonder if Kyle would mind you using, if he'd get a kick out of returning from the kitchen to find you curled up like you owned the place. Probably, he wouldn't because he's much too nice to you always. "Potential terrorist threat was he?"
"He did fit the profile," Kyle calls back from the kitchen. 
You laugh, decide if he's allowed to call your date a terrorist then you're definitely allowed to use his blanket. His fault for leaving the window open on such a cold day. As expected, Kyle seems completely unbothered when he returns moments later, your favorite mocha monstrosity in one hand and his standard plain, sweetened coffee in the other. He holds your drink out of your reach teasingly however until you admit you'd met Dylan on a dating app and he tuts, relenting your drink to you almost as an apology for what you've had to go through.
"Why are you even on those things?" he asks, slurping at his coffee noisily. It's a funny habit of his, one he somehow manages to make endearing. 
Though, looking like that, you imagine he could probably make booger picking endearing.
"Well, Kyle, some of us aren't quite as naturally charming as you."
He smirks, doesn't bother to deny it. Cocky asshole. "Don't sell yourself short, I'm sure plenty of men would love to have their blankets stolen by you." He winks, hand reaching out to pluck at the weave which drapes over your shoulder. His hand lingers there, warm even through the layers, and your laugh dies in your throat, comes out as a strangled scoff.
"Well. Keep it a little warmer in here and your guests wouldn't have to make themselves at home uninvited."
Kyle's smile is softer this time, dangerously handsome. "You're always invited, pet."
And try as you might to be witty, you can't quite come up with a response to that. Kyle doesn't seem to need one, though, slurping at his coffee as he settles in, far too close. The hand which had been at your shoulder settles lower, palm warm where he kneads at your thick thigh experimentally. You'd laugh at the irony if your brain wasn't too busy turning somersaults trying to make sense of what's happening. Surely your neighbor Kyle - sexy, sharp, nice Kyle - isn't coming onto you.
Right?
But then he's leaning forward and placing his mug on the table, his thick fingers guiding your own mug to your mouth for a quick, stunned sip before pulling it away again and placing it next to his own. He's facing you now, full on, his big dark eyes gleaming with mischief. 
"I was making him delete all your contact info. Earlier. And then I made him deactivate his account," Kyle laughs, an infectious thing which gets you giggling too.
"Not willing to subject other girls to him?"
"I don't take chances," Kyle confirms, voice solemn as a vow. "But what about you, pet? What do I gotta do to convince you to delete yours?"
Given you'd already planned on deleting it, you should really just tell him you've already learned your lesson and there's no need to do anything at all. But your scheming has only yielded a fifty percent success rate tonight and you'd rather go for broke than break even so you just smile, wondering if Kyle saw your no-hookups stipulation on your profile before making Dylan unmatch earlier. 
You hope not.
"I don't know, it might take a lot of convincing."
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hazbinwhoree · 8 months ago
Note
Hello! I got to say, so far you'r my favorite writer to Adam, im obsessed with the way you write him. Could I ask for a scenerio where he makes reader squirt for the first time in her life? (Or after life). I can see him being all proud of himself while reader just lays there embarressed cuz "holly shit that never happened bofore, is he okey with the mess?"
Peak Orgasm
A/N: Thank you!
“Guess how many times I’ve actually cum in my life.” Adam liked this game. “I’m guessing it’s a low number,” he said. “It is.” “Ten.” “Lower.”
“Lower than ten?” Adam gasped.
“Once,” (Name) dropped. “I’ve come once in my life. My ex managed it. Once. I’ve never managed it, I overstimulate myself.”
Adam’s jaw dropped. “You’re joking. You’ve only had an orgasm once? Did you squirt?”
(Name) blushed. “No, I don’t think I can do that.”
“...I can make it happen.”
The tension in the air is thick.
“Oh yeah?”
And Adam is on her in seconds, slamming his lips against hers. (Name) kissed back fervently, winding her arms around his neck. Adam pulled her into his lap. (Name) could feel his erection. His sex drive never failed to amaze her.
Adam’s tongue invaded (Name)’s mouth and she moaned. Adam’s hands travelled downwards, cupping her breasts. He pulled back for a moment to pull (Name)’s shirt over her head. His eyes lingered on her bare breasts and he grinned. “Nice rack.”
(Name) rolled her eyes.
Adam was immediately back on her, reconnecting their lips. His hands groped her chest, pinching and teasing her nipples. (Name) moaned, arching her back. Adam began sucking and biting down the column of her neck, leaving his mark.
(Name) whimpered, the sensations going straight to her core. Adam smirked against her neck. “Does that feel good baby?”
His hands left her chest to tug at the waistband of her pants. He laid her on her back on the bed and she raised her hips to allow him to slide the clothing off. Adam kissed down her body until he was between her thighs, kissing each inner thigh.
Then he began to eat her out like she was his last meal.
He alternated sucking on her clit and fucking her with his tongue. (Name) cried out, reaching down and getting an iron grip on Adam’s messy hair. She tugged at it as his tongue worked, and Adam groaned, the vibration against (Name)’s pussy only causing her to tug harder.
When her legs started twitching and shaking, Adam pulled back with one last, long lick from her opening to her clit.
(Name) was breathing heavily and frowning. “Why’d you stop?”
“The goal is to make you cum, not make you overstimulated.”
Adam pulled his shirt over his head before yanking down his pants and boxers. (Name) swallowed when she saw his dick. He was big, he didn’t call himself Dickmaster for nothing. She briefly wondered if he would fit. He’d be the biggest she’d ever taken.
Adam smirked, pumping his dick in his fist slowly. “Like what you see?”
(Name) blushed.
“You think you can take it?”
(Name) nodded wordlessly.
“Good.”
He sat on the bed and gestured for (Name) to come to him. She crawled over to him on shaky legs. Adam dragged her into his lap, positioning her over his dick.
“This should be the least painful position,” he offered.
He lined himself up, his tip poking at her entrance. “Whenever you’re ready,” he said. (Name) was more than ready. She began to slowly sink down, taking his length inch by inch. When she was fully seated in his lap, she bit his shoulder as her body adjusted to the stretch.
“Fuck,” she whimpered. “You took it so well,” Adam cooed. “Tell me when I can move.”
After a minute, the pain dissipated and the stretch became pleasurable. “You can move,” (Name) whispered. Adam began to slowly roll his hips, thrusting up into her. The friction earned a pleased moan from (Name) and Adam smiled.
He tried to keep the pace slow and gentle but his self-restraint was waning. His pace began to pick up in speed and intensity, (Name) letting out little “Ah!”s every time he thrust up into her. Adam reached down between them and found her clit, circling it with a slender finger.
(Name) bit her lip before gasping. Adam timed his thrusts with rubbing her clit and (Name) slowly got louder and louder as Adam got faster and faster.
Sure enough, (Name) could feel her orgasm steadily building. Whether or not Adam would finally bring her to release or just end up overstimulating her was to be determined. Adam was panting as he continued to thrust.
He was getting close, but he was determined to get (Name) off first.
The coil in (Name) stomach tightened and she gasped. “I-I think I’m close,” she panted. Adam grinned, continuing thrusting and circling her clit at a deliberate pace. (Name)’s moans got higher and louder before she came with a cry.
Adam silently celebrated when he felt a wetness against his lower stomach. It also made him cum, and he made sure to cum as deep inside of her as he could.
(Name) was in shock. “Holy shit, that felt so good.”
Adam grinned, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips. “Told you I could make you squirt.”
(Name) looked down between them, at the mess on Adam’s hand and lower stomach, growing embarrassed. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry.”
Adam shook his head. “Don’t apologize, baby, that was hot.” He was so proud of himself.
(Name) blushed, still coming down from her high, Adam still buried inside her.
“Besides, I made a mess in you, so…”
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pinecipitation · 5 months ago
Note
Pine,,,, smiling friends headcanons, how do you think each of the boys would react to their crush saying they feel safe with them :> if not all of them, your boy Alan and Charlie and Pim (asking for us both im shaking)
SMILING FRIENDS X GN!READER HCS
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FIRST OF ALL,,,, HAIIII TEDDYYYY :3 ❤️💛 HELLO WIFE HI LOML…
second of all YESSS SMILING FRIENDS CONTENT WE R SO BACKKK let me get to work ‼️
word count: around 1.2k
authors note: oh my god this was in the works for like a month, I be procrastinating really hard i’m sorry gang 😔🤞 also I’m so sorry alans is so short despite him being my favorite one I’m fighting for my life in here man
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CHARLIE: (s1e6)
charlie… is almost relieved to hear it, honestly would immediately flip a switch and do the very most to KEEP you as safe as you can be- but hide it in a playful manner. would carry you for the rest of your life if you asked, just because you inflated his ego.
The two of you are almost halfway in the enchanted forest, you walking in front of Charlie as you hold a little makeshift map in front of the two of you. The whole time Charlie is pointing out little shortcuts, you erasing and drawing paths over and over on the paper until a particularly strong gust of wind blow it away from the two of you, his shocked mouth open and yours would’ve opened if the pencil wasn’t still in your mouth. You didn’t want to say it, but you felt a little aggravated at him for losing your focus like that.
You stop to let him speed up in front of you, the two of you continuing onwards in silence before he speaks.
“Listen… I-“
“It’s fine, you go and I follow. I trust you.”
The minute those words left your mouth, Charlie immediately stops and turns to look at you, the clinks and clanks of his armor making it almost comedic.
“What?”
“…I said you could lead the way?-“
“No,” he shakes his head, the helmet shifting with him, “After that.”
You look at him quizzically, your arms awkward by your side as you look to the side then to him again.
“I trust you?”
What you couldn’t see was Charlie internally squealing like a little girl, happy that someone like you can allow themselves to be so carefree around him. Except you weren’t just someone; he’s unknowingly had a thing for you long enough to where it’s embarrassing that he hasn’t made a move. But, somehow, you telling him that made him understand why he got so nervous around you. Why he always felt let down whenever you had a different mission that day and couldn’t hang with him and Pim. Why he always slightly pulled aside the seat next to him in the office just so you’d sit next to him instead of across.
He finally realized he liked you.
But of course, he’d never say that out loud.
What he did do, however, was immediately grin and flex, his armor audibly showing him move as if he were showing off in a gym mirror.
“Well of course you do, I’d be concerned if you didn’t think a hero like me could protect you. I mean, look at me,” he plays along, successfully earning a chuckle from you before you roll your eyes and shift the bag on your shoulder before you keep moving ahead.
“Alright, hero- hey-!” Your joking manner was cut short as Charlie picks you up, flinging you over his shoulder as his laugh rockets off the trees around the two of you.
Your giggles and pleas to be let down drowned out as he thought about that sentence once more, thinking about what to do to hopefully hearing it again another time.
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PIM: (s1e4)
pim….. he’d be so happy, would internally have a little panicked spongebob brain moment but on the outside he’s a stuttering blushing mess. as if he isn’t pink enough.
“Don’t worry, i’ll use this rock to mark the trees- we can find our way back easy!”
Pims words seemed like an echo, his happy go easy personality twenty minutes ago almost feeling like a warning now that the two of you crossed that bridge. The two of you just barely escaped the rain, logs and sticks discarded as the rickety cabin door you called shelter slammed shut.
You were both dripping, Pims cowboy outfit making wet stretching noises every time he stretched his leg or raised his arm. Your outfit was also drenched, a small rip or two from the thorns you pulled away from on the run here.
You were still kneeled over catching your breath as the thunder pursued outside, Pim shakingly clearing his throat before looking up at you with disappointed eyes.
“Listen,… I’m really sorry, I didn’t think it would rain or anything but even then I shouldn’t have taken us across the bridge, and now it’s my fault we’re here-,” he begins, his wet hat now in his hands as he stares down at his cowboy spurs. He only really looked up once he hears you interrupted him with a laugh, a sound he immediately feels his cheeks redden to.
“Don’t worry, it’s just a little rain. We’ll be okay- plus, I feel safe with you. I know we’ll make it back fine.”
You were facing down trying to wring the water out of your hair and costume, thinking nothing of it, but to Pim?
To Pim, it meant everything.
He immediately stopped, his eyes widening as he stares at you with his mouth slightly ajar, the redness in his cheeks instantly spreading to his nose and ears. It took two or three tries for him to get his words out, the clothes on him somehow feeling tighter the more he tried to express himself.
“You… you trust me??” The way his meek voice instantly made you straighten up and look at him, the barely there water in his eye almost making you feel guilty for saying it.
Immediately you went to go hold him, your hands wrapping around his back as he listens to you giggle out a ‘Of course! Pim, are you okay?’ and he nods in return. His hands interlock together behind your back, his cheek on your shoulder as he thanks you.
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ALAN: (s2e3)
alan… my wife.. would definitely think about asking if you’re SURE. in that case, he’s taken it upon himself to keep his eyes on you like a HAWK, unfortunately intimidating everyone around the two of you.
You seem to feel oddly safe perusing the streets of CrimeVille, thinking back on everyone’s warnings of how dangerous the place was. This is too easy, you think, feeling like everyone was just exaggerating the state of where you two were. What you didn’t realize, however, was Alan shooting everyone the stink eye of the century as he walks behind you.
It wasn’t too long ago when you two left the OfficeCrap, the following conversation unexpected as you both walked out.
“I can do it myself, I don’t want you going to that part of town…” Alan mumbles, the soft mechanic noise of the sliding door behind you helping end his sentence. You only shake your head, shushing him before pronouncing how you’ll be fine, and you trust him to protecting you if anything.
Unbeknownst to you, that’s the only thing Alan’s been thinking about since you left. Fortunately for Alan, being tall and having a somewhat stoic resting facial expression, he was very easy to intimidate anyone looking at you.
He almost walked like your shadow, hands in his pocket as he walks over you like a protective red totem, his blue tie occasionally brushing the top of your head as he looms over everything.
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revelboo · 25 days ago
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Jazz has always been a favorite of mine and the way you write him and the reader is *chefs kiss* I've been inspired to draw art of my tf human character and him . Tysm for giving us sustenance!
Nice! 😁 I love writing and I’m just happy other people like my silly TF stuff.
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Over It Now Pt 8
Jazz x Reader
• You can’t breathe. It’s not that he’s gripping you too tightly, it’s the way he’s holding you. A big hand cupping the back of your head, servos tangled in your hair to press your face against his throat. The other arm curled around you, those servos pressing into your hip hard enough that there will likely be a bruise. He’s holding onto you like you’re his lifeline in a dangerous sea, like you’re the only thing holding him together. Almost without thinking, you curl your arms around his neck. And wonder what it’s like to lie all the time, to joke and play everything off. Even when it’s not okay.
• When those little arms wrap around his neck, it’s like he can feel the chinks forming in his carefully constructed armor. The temptation to drop the act after so long, except he’s not sure who would be left under that smiling veneer everyone loves. If that’s not him, would anyone want to stay? He’s the one that can shrug off anything, never serious. Fun. But under that carefree smile? The real Jazz he tries so hard to keep buried? He’s afraid and so tired. He can feel your warm breath on him, little fingers clinging. But it’s your soft whisper that rattles him. “It’s okay.” Like you understand that it’s not. Blaster was right, he’s selfish and you’re going to wind up suffering for it eventually. He knows it.
• The servos in your hair thread more firmly through the strands as he presses his face against your neck, those little door wings of his trembling. And he’s curling his big frame around you as that trembling spreads through him. The feel of his lips, scandalously warm against your neck when he speaks steals the air from your lungs. “Oh, kitten, it’s really not.” He’s laughing then, venting warm air against you, the sound tinged with an almost desperate air. Whatever this had been, it had been something real. He’d let you get the tiniest glimpse and now he’s back to this act. The liar, the flirt, the smiling, confidence man. Anger, sudden and sharp warms you as you plant your palms on his shoulders and push. Getting as much space as he allows between you, because you don’t want to play this game.
• You’re frowning up at him, eyes angry as you try to get loose. And it’s tempting to refuse to let you, but it’s guilt that makes him catch you by the hips and carefully settle you on your feet, reaching to hand you your crutches before you can try to hop over to them. Forcing that smile, he leans an elbow on his knee and props his chin on it, all lazy amusement. “You shouldn’t be out in the cold,” he says, curling his servos under to keep from reaching for you. Because you think he was laughing at you, not himself. It wasn’t amusement, but scorn.
• Why had you thought for one minute he could be real? You’re not even sure now if whatever that had been had been genuine or an act. It had felt almost desperate, too much so to be clever acting, but that’s what he does. Lie and smile. And you shouldn’t be getting so attached to him, because if this is just a game to him, he’ll get bored eventually. Better to keep your distance than risk letting him hurt you when he does. Even if you’re certain that you already like him too much to survive unscathed.
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mydearzero · 1 year ago
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Hello!! I was wondering if maybe you could do something with sub!Spencer and dacryphilia?
I also just wanted to say that I really enjoy reading all of your work and I'm so impressed with what you write! You have become one of my favorite writers on this platform!
now this, this is too good to not write. thanks for reading and the request! it's an honorary title to be called one of your favourites so I thank you! ♡
Pretty When You Cry | sub!Spencer Reid x Reader
MASTERLIST
18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Summary: You hear Spencer crying after he'd overheard you joke about him with Derek. You better check in on him, right? Except he's definitely not crying. You find him in a... compromising situation. But he's not crying. You better rectify that.
Contents: NO Y/N, sub!Spencer, dom!Reader, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, co-workers, smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie, orgasm delay, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, praise kink, overuse of 'good boy', If I missed any warnings please tell me!
2.7K words
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"I bet he keeps his socks on," you joked, stealing a piece of candy from Derek and popping it in your mouth. He threw his head back in a hearty chuckle. 
"Or he takes only one off. Whichever one fits the vibe stays, since he's always mismatching." Derek added. He was about to continue, but you cut him off with a panicked look, spotting Spencer with a frown on his face. 
"If you guys wanted to know whether I keep my socks on, you could've just asked. There's no need to speculate and joke about my sex life behind my back. But I guess that's what pricks do." Spencer stomped to his desk, not making any eye contact. 
"No need to get so worked up over it, Reid. You should really take that edge off, somehow. You can whine either way." You continued chewing on the tough candy, taking another one from Morgan and throwing it in Spencer's direction when he didn't reply. 
"Yeah, Pretty Boy. When's the last time you got laid?" Derek raised an eyebrow. Spencer visibly tensed before pushing himself away from his desk and walking off. 
Convinced you'd upset him, you told Derek you'd go after him. Derek shrugged, saying he was heading home. 
You nearly collided with Hotch as he was leaving his office, clearly headed home. 
"Don't stay too late, there's a lot of catching up to do that can wait until tomorrow morning," he mentioned before walking to the elevator.   
You knocked on Rossi's door, entering when he answered. "Hey, did you see where Reid went? I think I might've upset him," you cringed. 
"I'm pretty sure there's nothing you can do that could possibly upset the kid. But he walked down the hall to the left from what I saw." Rossi clasped his hands together. 
"Thanks, Rossi. You're a lifesaver." 
You bid him goodbye before following his directions down the hall. You heard soft noises from one of the empty offices near the end of the long, winding hallway. It sounded like... Spencer? 
Was he crying? You hadn't thought he was that upset. 
You creaked the door open as silently as humanly possible, ready to console him and apologize for your teasing. 
You couldn't see him clearly, the light from the hallway polluting your vision into the dimly lit office. But you could hear him. God, could you hear him. 
The soft whines emitting from his throat drowned out the barely audible noise of his slick hand sliding over his hard length. 
Your heart rate skyrocketed. Spencer's touching himself. You felt a wicked smile creep upon your lips. 
You listened in on him a little longer, determining whether you were daydreaming or if the universe was really throwing this situation in your lap. 
His soft whines turned into pleas. It was obvious this wasn't the first time for his current fantasy. It seemed played out. 
You knew it was your lucky day when a begging whisper of your name fell off his lips. Oh, this was going to be fun. 
Your hand crept through the gap of the door, hand blindly seeking the light switch. You found it but didn't yet turn it on. 
You heard him get closer to the edge, exactly where you wanted him. When the noises of his hand sped up, desperately so, you made your move. 
You slammed the door open and turned on the bright, white light simultaneously. Spencer jumped to gather himself, wide eyes meeting your own. 
"What are you doing, Spencer?" Your tone was mocking. You already knew the answer, and Spencer had never felt more caught. His breath was haggard, eyes glazed over, lips pouting. He looked like a little puppy. 
"I'm- I was just- Uh-" Spencer stammered. You gave him a condescending smile. 
"I- Uh- I- You what, Spencer?" You finally walked into the room, closing the door behind you. You took slow steps towards the leather couch. 
Spencer was frozen. You never called him by his first name. He'd managed to haphazardly tuck himself back into his pants, but a small wet spot was already forming on the front. He'd been so close. 
He refused to look at you, choosing to stare at his lap, where his hands were unsubtly crossed over his crotch. You examined him for a second before taking his chin in your hand, squeezing his cheeks slightly. You turned his face upwards, forcing him to meet your eyes. 
"Answer my question, Spencer," you demanded. He looked up at you through damp lashes. He'd really worked up a sweat. 
He made a couple desperate noises but couldn't utter a coherent sentence. You raised your eyebrows. A constricted sigh left him as he looked at you in desperation. 
"What's the matter, baby? You usually have so much to say. Don't you have an answer for me, boy genius?" You pouted sarcastically. Your grip on his chin tightened. 
"I-" Spencer's eyes glazed over. 
"-was touching myself? Yeah, I gathered as much," you finished for him. You turned his face, examining it from every angle as you slowly brought your foot up to his crotch. 
"Move your hands, Pretty Boy," you demanded, pressing your foot against them. Spencer's eyes squeezed shut, slowly moving his hands. You chuckled darkly as you felt up his length. 
You tossed his head to the side and pushed on his shoulder, making him fall back against the couch. You slowly moved your legs to either side of his, straddling him. You moved your hips experimentally, purposely grinding against his clothed cock for good measure. 
His hands reached for your waist, but you grabbed his wrists before he could. "No touching. Sit on them if you think you can't stop yourself." 
Spencer moved quickly, tucking his hands under his thighs. You ran your fingers over the side of his face. He really was pretty. You stroked a finger between his eyebrows in an attempt to iron out the crease. His face and entire body were tense with anticipation. 
You ground your hips agonizingly slow. Your sluggish movement was obviously not enough for the whimpering man under you, but he knew better than to do anything about it. 
You would've continued your teasing longer, but you knew he'd been close to coming seconds before you barged in. You felt the wet spot on his slacks grow larger with the movement. He trashed, uncertainty written on his face. He had to touch you, had to move, had to do something, but he couldn't. 
"Please," Spencer uttered the magic word you'd been waiting for. You smiled and got off his lap, getting on your knees in front of the couch. 
You reached for his belt and undid it, all while your eyes never left his. You slowly tugged the slacks down, along with his boxers. His cock bounced free instantly, throbbing and red. Spencer clenched his eyes shut at the sensation. 
"Nu-uh, Spence. Look at me. Don't you want to be a good boy?" Your fingers wrapped around his shaft menacingly. 
"Yes! Yes, please. Want to be a good boy for you. Only you. Please," he begged. 
You smiled in satisfaction as you gave him a squeeze. Spencer threw his head back at the sensation, only to push it back and meet your eyes like you'd enforced. 
You moved forward and leaned over his lap, bringing the tip of his weeping dick to your mouth. You gave the slit a kittenish lick, collecting some pre-cum on your tongue. 
You saw Spencer breathe heavily, trying to contain himself. He bit his lip, attempting to suppress any noise, but failing miserably. 
You never took him into your mouth fully, only licking around the tip and squeezing his shaft every so often. 
"So good for me, Spence. You're gonna have to be quiet, though. Rossi's still here, and you know what a gossip he is," You stroked him as you spoke. You sped up your pace, enjoying seeing him try to stay quiet. 
His legs twitched, and you knew he was getting close. You quickly pulled your hand off him and got up off the floor. A loud groan left him at the loss of sensation, hips shooting up off the couch. 
The sound of his frantic breaths was like music to your ears. 
You moved to stand over him, tugging at the hem of his sweater vest. 
"C'mon, baby. Hands up," you urged, pulling the fabric over his head. You reached for his tie, undoing it and setting it aside for later. 
"Take your shirt off," you commanded, stepping back to watch the show. Spencer removed his hands from where he sat on them, watching you as he struggled to unbutton the shirt. You leaned against the desk nonchalantly, admiring your fingernails. 
He nearly sobbed in despair, shaking hands unable to undo the buttons. You liked him like this; helpless and desperate. You laughed at him, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he finally got the last button opened. He hastily rid himself of the shirt and searched your face for approval. 
"Hmm, good job, baby. Now, put those hands back where they came from. Remember, no touching," you reminded him. He tucked them back under his legs, and you pet his hair in approval before reaching for where you'd placed his tie. 
"Say 'Ah'," you motioned for him to copy you. He hesitantly opened his mouth. You raised an eyebrow, and he quickly opened it further. You placed the fabric of his tie in his mouth, tying it behind his head. He gurgled a little, struggling to give the makeshift gag a place. 
You got back on his lap, putting a hand in his hair and tugging at the roots. Spencer yelped but clearly liked the pain, eyes dilating. You moved his head backwards, exposing his neck for you. You placed a few kisses on his jaw, before moving down to his neck. You sucked several spots before finding the sweet spot that had him whimpering once again. His hands shot up from under his thighs, reaching for your ass. 
You removed your mouth from his neck, yanking at his hair. "Did I give you permission to touch me?" 
Spencer shook his head aggressively. 
"Words, baby." 
"N-no, ma'am," he stuttered. You smirked. Ma'am, huh? You liked the sound of that. 
"Good boy," you whispered in his ear. His hips ground upwards, desperate for attention. You decided you were done toying with him. You were glad you'd worn a somewhat loose skirt to work that day. 
You reached between your thighs, pulling your underwear aside. You lined yourself up, steadying yourself with one hand on Spencer's shoulder, the other on his cock. 
You sunk down, only slipping the tip inside before stopping. Your legs were going to kill you tomorrow, holding up your weight above his length, but it was worth it for the tears welling up in Spencer's eyes. 
"You're gonna cry?" You mocked, hand returning to grip his chin and squish his cheeks. He tried to keep it in, but the second you sunk down, fully sheathing him inside, the tears spilt, rolling down his cheeks. 
"You're so pretty when you cry, Spencer. My gorgeous little crybaby," You admitted. You lifted your hips, pushing them back down against his harshly. More tears ran down his face. 
"Shh, baby. Filling me up so nicely. Such a good boy for me." You assured him, setting a slow pace and bouncing on his cock. 
"Please, faster. Just a little, please," Spencer pleaded through the gag, almost unintelligibly. You pretended to think it over. 
"No, I don't think I will," you decided. It was mean. He begged you so nicely. A sob wrecked his throat. There it is. 
He convulsed in a mixture of pleasure and desperation, hips snapping up to meet yours. 
"Please, oh my God, Please!" It was like the only words left in his vocabulary were ones to beg for you. He sounded angelic. 
You barely increased your speed, but Spencer went berserk over it. You brought a hand to his face, wiping away the tears and looking into his eyes. 
"Such a good boy, so pretty. You're so good for me, Spencer," you babbled, losing your grip on the situation. He was hitting the right spot inside you over and over again. 
You closed your eyes in pleasure, frantically sliding on his dick. "Fuck, Spencer," a breathy moan escaped you. 
A newfound, frenzied whine reached your ears. You opened your eyes to look at Spencer, who seemed to calm at the eye contact. He wanted to watch you, make sure he was being good. 
"M-more, Fu-more, Pl-please," Spencer stuttered. He could barely get the words out over the gag and pleasure soaring through his veins. 
You obeyed, bringing your hands back to his hair and tugging harshly. You leaned forward to whisper in his ear, taking the tie out of his mouth. "You can touch me, now. Touch me, Spencer. Make me come. Make me come like a good boy."
Spencer groaned loudly at the words, hands immediately moving to your waist. His hips started moving uncontrollably, desperately chasing his release. 
You tugged at his hair in warning. "I said make me come, baby. I didn't say you could." 
His eyes widened, and he quickly moved his hands between your bodies, seeking eye contact to ask for permission. You nodded wildly, growing more desperate for your own release. 
His fingers made quick work of finding your clit, rubbing ferociously. The sensation sent you reeling, moaning loudly in his ear. A particularly sharp thrust nearly made you scream, tightening your grip on his gorgeous locks. "Shit, Spencer! Fuck, so good. So fucking good, baby. So big inside of me." 
You could feel Spencer was nearing his release again. This time, you had no intention to stop him, but he didn't know that. He was still frantically trying to tip you over the edge and succeeding. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, losing your grip on his hair and falling forward against his naked chest. Your hands found leverage on the couch, digging your nails in the leather as Spencer continued fucking up into you. 
"Please, can I come? Please, let me come with you. 've been a good boy, right?" Spencer begged. His desperate whines sounded so good, incoherent mumbles of "Oh my God" and "Please" repeatedly falling off his lips. 
"Yes, you can come for me, Spencer. Come with me. Make me come on your cock," you encouraged.
Spencer snapped, no longer caring if anybody heard him. His whines and moans were getting higher in pitch and shorter in frequency, mirroring your own. 
"F-feel so good around me. So tight. So good. Gonna come, g- gonna," Spencer's hips stuttered, thick length throbbing as he pushed it deep inside one last time. 
"Fuck, Spencer!" 
"Oh my God, oh my God, f-fuck," Spencer was unusually vulgar as he coated your walls. You sat down on his cock for a minute, gathering your breath and wiping the tears and other fluids from Spencer's face. 
You pushed a strand of hair away from his eyes and smiled timidly at him. "Hi." 
Spencer laughed a little and smiled back, breath still irregular. "Hi, yourself." 
"You good? I didn't go too far? I'm sorry for springing that on you, Reid. I didn't mean to make you cry." You ran your hands over his chest. 
"No! It was perfect. I loved it. T'was just really intense, you know?" He reassured you. "And please, we're past the last name basis now, don't you think?" You nodded and smiled, admiring his face for a second longer before carefully sliding yourself off him. 
Spencer winced, incredibly sensitive. Your sadistic side bubbled to the surface, if only for a split second, and gave his overstimulated cock a couple of tugs. He trashed against your touch, loud, pained wails falling from his lips. You let him go, walking to the desk and grabbing a couple of tissues to clean yourself up. 
"Sorry, I couldn't help myself," you smirked. Spencer's chest was heaving, but there was a satisfied smile on his face. 
"I guess you do have your answer now. I still have my socks on."
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sidekick-hero · 3 months ago
Text
Cheesy
steddie | 1.2k | rated: teen | tags: modern AU, Eddie works at Surfer Boy Pizza, inappropriate humor, cheesy lines and bad puns, fluff and humor | AO3
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"Steeeeeeve! Steven! I’m starving! You have to save me from the cruel clutches of death by buying us a pizza. But you must hurry—I don’t have much time left."
"Oh no, what would I ever do without you?" Steve deadpans, barely suppressing a grin.
Robin dramatically flings herself onto him, knocking the wind out of him with a loud 'oumph.'
She jabs a finger into his ribs—surprisingly painful. "Crash and burn, Dingus. Crash. And. Burn."
Steve swats her poking fingers away, scowling at his platonic soulmate. "At least I’d have fewer bruises and a better bank account. This is the third time this week I’m buying you pizza, Buckley. How is that fair?"
He tries to sound stern, but as Robin squirms in his lap, looking up at him with big, pleading blue eyes, his resolve crumbles to dust.
"Because I’ve been your best friend since we both lost all dignity in those sailor outfits. It’s us against the world, oh platonic love of my life. Or... don’t you love me anymore?"
There it is—the killing blow. Game, set, match.
God, he’s so fucking easy, isn’t he?
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Gimme my phone, jeez. You’re eating me out of house and home, I hope you know that."
Steve gets a sharp elbow in the stomach as Robin scrambles to grab his phone from the table.
"Ouch! God, why are your elbows so pointy?"
"They’re my secret weapon against the patriarchy," Robin says distractedly, shoving the phone in his face. "Pizza. Please. Hungry."
Robin’s monosyllables mean the situation is dire. Steve quickly dials their favorite pizza place. “Veggie?” he mouths, earning a thumbs-up from Robin.
“Surfer Boy Pizza, this is Eddie speaking. What’s your poison of choice?”
Huh. The deep, smooth voice on the other end of the line is new, throwing Steve off momentarily.
“Uhhhm… You’re not Argyle,” he blurts out, immediately wanting to slap himself. How pathetic does he sound right now?
An amused chuckle echoes through the tiny speaker.
“Keen observation skills, Sherlock. Argyle’s off today, so you’ve got the pleasure of my company. How can I make your day better, sweetheart?”
The flirty tone throws Steve further, but he can’t deny he’s enjoying it. So, he decides to match Eddie’s energy.
“I could think of a few things, but I’m not sure they’re on the menu,” Steve flirts back, relishing the chance to flex his long-dormant charm.
“Is that so?” Eddie’s smile is practically audible. “Who says they aren’t? Or that I wouldn’t make an exception if you ask real nice?”
Steve opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, Robin’s elbow digs into his side, knocking the breath out of him. She’s glaring at him, mouthing, ‘What the fuck?’
The sound must have been loud enough for Eddie to hear because he clears his throat awkwardly. “Uh, was that… I mean, sorry if that was too forward, man. Please don’t tell my manager, I just got the job and—”
“No! No, no, no, don’t worry. My best friend’s just starving and shared her pain with me… via elbow to the ribs. It wasn’t too forward, I promise.”
A relieved sigh reaches his ear. “Okay, good. So, what kind of pizza can I get you two before your best friend starves to death? I wouldn’t want that on my conscience.”
A heavy weight settles in Steve’s stomach. He didn’t realize how much he missed being flirted with, even casually. Nancy was right—their relationship had been over long before they ended it. It’s been ages since he felt this kind of excitement.
“Yeah, no, we don’t want that,” Steve agrees, smiling despite himself. “One veggie, and one with meatballs—yes, I know how that sounds.”
Eddie’s flirtatious tone returns. “Wouldn’t dream of going for such an easy opening, big boy. I’m easy, not cheesy.”
“Oh. My. God.” Steve laughs. “That was terrible.”
“But you liked it.”
Steve grins. Yeah, he did. He’s a sucker for bad puns and dad jokes. But Eddie didn’t need to know that. “Pleading the fifth.”
Eddie hums, asking for his name and address before promising the pizza will be there in 20 minutes.
“Thanks, Eddie,” Steve says, his voice softer than it should be.
“Anytime, Stevie. Enjoy your pizza!”
“Bye. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Deafening silence. Then, in a surprisingly calm voice, Eddie says, “I hope you’re not expecting a discount on the pizza now that we’ve confessed our undying love to each other. Because I’d do anything for love, but I won’t do that.”
And then he hangs up, leaving Steve to spiral in peace.
Love you.
Love you, too.
Fuck. Oh my God. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. What was he thinking? Nothing, apparently. It’s just… with Nancy on his mind, his brain switched to autopilot, saying the words he ended every call with her. Three years of habit.
“Steve? Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
The worried look on Robin’s face lasts just long enough for Steve to explain what happened before she breaks into ringing laughter.
“Oh my God,” she gasps, barely able to catch her breath. “That’s… hahaha… I can’t… What is your life, Dingus?”
By then, Steve’s laughing too, Robin’s reaction helping him see the humor instead of drowning in embarrassment.
As promised, there’s a ring at the door about 20 minutes later, announcing the arrival of their pizza. The sound sends butterflies fluttering in his stomach, even though he knows the delivery guy won’t be Eddie.
Knowing that and seeing it for himself are two different things, though. He can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment when he opens the door to find a blonde, pimply teenager staring at him doubtfully.
“So, you’re the guy trying to lure Eddie into your sex dungeon?”
Steve sputters, completely thrown. “Uh… what?”
“Why else would you tell a total stranger—who’s also working for you, by the way, hence creating an imbalance of power—that you love him? Freak.”
The teenager shoves the pizza boxes into Steve’s hands, snatches the bills from his other hand, and walks away without another word.
Steve stands there, staring into the void, deeply regretting all his life choices. He’s snapped out of it only when Robin’s voice pierces through his thoughts, yelling for her pizza.
“Coming!” he shouts back, closing the door with his foot and carrying the boxes over to where Robin’s already making grabby hands.
He hands hers over before settling down next to her with his own.
“What took you so long?” she asks, mouth full of pizza.
“You wouldn’t believe it,” he begins but stops when he notices the note stuck to the top of his pizza box.
Hey Stevie, I lied, because this is cheesy, but you are one supreme slice, and I’d love to give you meatballs for as long as you’d like. Yours truly, The guy you confessed your undying love to (aka Eddie) P.S. Please don’t mind Sam. He’s just jealous because no customer ever confesses their love to him.
Beneath the note, Steve finds a phone number.
Without thinking, he grabs his phone and quickly types out a message before finally digging into his pizza, suddenly starving.
‘Hey Eddie, if you put a sausage on top of the meatballs, we have a deal. xxx the guy you confessed your undying love to right back.’
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Inspired by this ancient post I can no longer find:
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