#ft: another random kid

[helloimxyon]

This is old but I’ll post it anyway.

This was my first time drawing ggy haha

bonus:

[kxsagi]

back again with another idea, don't judge me these men haunt my mind 24/7

bllk boys with a manager gf.

imagine them having a manager in blue lock right? then she yk does what managers do. help with their training, give them water, monitor their plays and even sometimes suggest new playstyle that could improve their game and such.

then, one of their teammates gets injured and yk what that means? gf touches the other member to apply bandage or apply dressing to their wounds. bf gets jealous and accidentally reveals their relationship to everyone.

that's all, have a great day.

“𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐛𝐚𝐠”

a/n: thank you, have a great day as well!

blue lock manager! gf can be the same age as them to make things easier! (reader is too smart for this world and got a full-time job early lmao)

another a/n: i’m stuck between writing angst and writing crack headcanons idk (yes i chose a random header image this is my humor 💔)

ft. shidou ryusei, itoshi rin, kaiser michael, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, isagi yoichi

shidou ryusei

you were just doing your job like the incredible and competent manager you were, wrapping a bandage around one of the players’ thighs after a nasty slide tackle. 

and that was the moment you felt it – a murderous aura radiating from somewhere behind you. 

you turned your head slightly… and there he was, standing at the edge of the field with his hands on his hips, watching you with the most “i am one intrusive thought away from prison” expression you’ve ever seen. 

you weren’t sure if he was jealous of the player or the fact that he wasn’t the one getting manhandled by you. 

but oho, shidou made sure everyone knew exactly what was going through his mind. 

“hey. you got a license for that, princess?” he called out, his voice loud enough for the entire field to hear. 

everyone kinda just… stared at him like “bro what???”

then he casually strolled over and plopped down beside you, practically shoving the injured player away with his knee. 

“i’m next. wrap me up, baby,” he grinned, completely ignoring the fact that he had zero injuries. 

“shidou, you’re not hurt,” you deadpanned. 

“my heart is. you’re out here playin’ nurse with other guys,” he smirked dramatically, holding his chest like he was about to faint. 

that was the moment you realized you were doomed. 

“wait… you’re dating him?” one of the players finally asked, pointing at shidou. 

“dating? nah,” shidou snickered, throwing an arm around your shoulders and grinning maniacally, “i’m her full-time problem. she’s just lucky i’m hot.”

itoshi rin

rin was trying so hard to play it cool. 

but the moment he saw you kneeling on the field, gently holding a player’s ankle to wrap it with bandages, he damn near dislocated his own neck from how fast he turned to glare at you. 

he clenched his jaw, muttering under his breath like, “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

if this scene were in anime, his eyes would be glowing red and his entire body would be surrounded by that ominous black aura. 

he didn’t say anything at first, just stared, so hard that the player getting bandaged started getting visibly uncomfortable. 

when you finally finished and stood up, rin suddenly appeared behind you like a final boss. 

“you’re done, right?” he muttered, staring daggers at the poor, confused player. 

you were like, “uh… yeah?”

but before you could even blink, rin grabbed your wrist in front of everyone and dragged you off the field like a caveman escorting his woman back to the cave. 

“rin, what the hell are you –”

“you were touching him.”

“wha – he was injured???”

rin didn’t care. he just turned around and deadass blurted, “you’re my girlfriend. stop touching other guys.”

there was a brief silence. then someone from the bench went: 

“…wait. since WHEN?!” 

rin, realizing he just accidentally revealed your entire relationship, muttered, “shit,” under his breath and immediately walked off.

he avoided eye contact with everyone for the next three hours. 

but you could still see the tips of his ears turning red every time someone smirked at him. 

kaiser michael

it started with a minor ankle sprain from one of his teammates. 

nothing serious, you just crouched down, carefully assessing the injury with your delicate and professional manager hands. 

kaiser, who was initially ignoring the entire scene, suddenly felt his eye twitch when he saw you applying pressure to the player’s calf with your bare hands. 

and that was it. his brain glitched. 

he stormed over without hesitation, yanked your clipboard out of your hand, and slapped it against the injured player’s leg. 

“here. use this.”

you blinked in confusion.

“kaiser, what –”

“don’t you have gloves or something?” he snapped, his eye twitching again. 

you gave him a blank stare. “… for bandaging an ankle?”

“yes. gloves. anything that keeps you from touching him with your bare hands,” he muttered, scowling. 

the injured player blinked up at him like “bro you good???”

and then, because kaiser had no filter, he added, “she doesn’t touch anyone but me.”

the entire field went dead silent.

one of the benched players went, “uh, excuse me?”

but kaiser, completely unbothered, just smirked, leaned down, and kissed your forehead right in front of everyone before turning back to practice. 

“she’s my personal medic. keep your hands off.”

you, sitting there with wide eyes, realized there was no turning back. 

the next day, you were trending online as “kaiser’s girl” and he was so smug about it. 

itoshi sae

sae was already grumpy after a long practice, and the last thing he wanted to see was you touching some random dude’s calf while applying ice. 

you, being the sweet and professional manager you were, were focused on being helpful. 

sae, meanwhile, was staring at you with the most judgmental boyfriend glare of all time. 

and then the player winced and accidentally grabbed your wrist. 

sae was across the field in 0.3 seconds. 

“get your hands off her.”

the entire field turned toward him like 👁️👄👁️

the player immediately let go of you and started stammering, “s-sorry, i didn’t mean to –”

sae didn’t even look at him. he was laser-focused on you. 

“you. come here.”

you blinked in confusion. “huh?”

“now.”

you stood up and walked over to him, only for sae to grab your wrist again and deadass say, “she’s mine.”

the entire team went, “WHAT???”

and then sae, realizing he just exposed your secret relationship, simply muttered,

“oh.”

he quickly turned around and walked off without saying anything else. 

the next practice, everyone was making fun of him. 

shidou: “sooo… when’s the wedding, lover boy?”

rin: “pathetic.”

sae: “i hate all of you.”

nagi seishiro

nagi was napping on the bench until he heard your voice. 

he peeked one eye open, only to see you bandaging a player’s arm with your gentle, caring hands. 

he didn’t like it. not one bit.

without saying a word, he casually strolled over and collapsed on top of you like a human-sized koala. 

“nagi! what are you –”

“mmm. comfy,” he mumbled against your shoulder, making himself at home. 

you were literally pinned underneath his entire weight, trying to shove him off, but he only clung tighter, his limbs practically draping over you like a weighted blanket. 

the injured player blinked at the scene in confusion. “uh… is he okay?”

nagi, without lifting his head, muttered sleepily, “mine.” 

you stared at him, wide-eyed. “… what?”

“you’re mine,” he repeated, voice muffled against your skin, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

the entire field went silent.

the player you were bandaging glanced between the two of you, brows furrowed. “wait. are you two… together?”

nagi didn’t even lift his head.

“mmm. yeah,” he mumbled. “she’s my girlfriend.”

you could feel your soul leave your body.

the team, now fully aware of your not-so-secret relationship, was staring at you in shock. 

meanwhile, nagi stayed exactly where he was, fully prepared to take a nap on top of you, completely unfazed by the fact that he just exposed the two of you to the entire team. 

later, when you asked him why he did that, he just shrugged lazily and went, “too much of a hassle to keep it a secret.”

isagi yoichi

isagi was in the middle of practice, minding his business, being the good, hard-working soccer boy he was, when he saw you crouched down on the field, tending to someone’s knee. 

at first, he didn’t think much of it, until he noticed just how close you were leaning toward the guy. 

and that’s when his brain started spiraling. 

“wait. why is she holding his leg like that? … wait. is she… she’s SMILING???”

isagi tried to focus on practice, but his passes were getting sloppy because he kept glancing over at you. 

then, as if to personally ruin isagi’s life, the injured player casually rested his hand on your thigh for balance while you were wrapping his knee. 

and that was it. isagi blacked out. 

before he even realized what he was doing, he was storming over like a man on a mission. 

he didn’t say a word. just gently grabbed your wrist and yanked you off the field. 

you blinked up at him, startled. “yoichi? what are you –”

“you’re my girlfriend.”

you: ???

the injured player: ???

the entire field: ???

isagi, suddenly realizing what he just blurted out in front of everyone, stared at you like a deer caught in headlights. 

“…i, uh, i mean –” he stammered, his face turning bright red. 

but it was too late. the damage was done. 

shidou (grinning like the menace he was): “ooohhh. so that’s why you’ve been smiling at your phone like a dumbass.”

kaiser: “figures. he plays like a lovesick golden retriever half the time.”

nagi (half-asleep): “mmm. knew it.”

isagi, face redder than a stop sign, sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

and now every single one of his teammates was planning to make fun of him for the next 10-15 business years. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[hamilando]

ੈ✩ pretty please (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : charles leclerc x fem reader

summary : hard launches are in right?

tw : chaotic and cute, little smuttish comments

fc: sabrina carpenter

a/n : thank you so much to @rana030 for requesting this ! lysm 🫶🏻

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by charlesleclerc, pierregasly, and 2,346,758 others

idk_y/n soft launching ig ? sorry to my first husband, pierre 😔

view comments

pierregasly you are acting as if I didn't catch you both months ago in MY CONDO

user1 umm wha-

user2 this is so random lol

user3 just another girl becoming a wag, waiting for them to breakup 😊

user4 she knows more about f1 than you

user5 she has been Pierre's bestie since years

oscar.piastri how did you meet dad?

idk_y/n your uncle gasly introduced us !!

user6 the flow of the conversation - 💀

arthurleclerc welcome to the leclercs!! 💌

liked by idk_y/n

charlesleclerc the best year of my life ❤️

idk_y/n 🫶🏻❤️

user7 excuse me- A YEAR !?

user8 LECLERC WHAT !? YOU HID IT FOR A YEAR !?

user9 marriage announcement when ?

user10 pregnancy announcement when?

user11 kid 2 announcement when ?

user12 kid 3 announcement when ?

user13 kid 4 announcement when ?

user14 yall getting them to have a whole grid or wha- 💀

liked by charlesleclerc, pierregasly, francisca.gnomes and 1,346,986 others

idk_y/n something ft. my love 💌

view comments

user1 ACTOR CHARLES !?

user2 miss y/n, can I borrow Charles ?

user3 for scientific purposes only

user4 step on me

charlesleclerc ma belle, pls delete the third pic, I don't like others seeing what's m.ine

pierregasly what if I already have -

charlesleclerc let's see if you be alive in that alpine

idk_y/n you are not hurting him charles and stop being a kid pierre

user5 mommy 🥴

user6 POSSESIVE CHARLES

user7 charles, don't be shy, show ur Wattpad history 👀

user8 Wha- BAHAHAHA

user9 A MAN, A MAN, A MAN MAN MAN

user10 WOOF WOOF

user11 can I marry your unborn child

user12 👀

liked by charlesleclerc, pierregasly, lilyhye, troyesivan and 3,567,375 others

idk_y/n hard launching music ig ?

Please Please Please out now !!!! ft my boyfriend🤭

view comments

troyesivan AHHH QUEEN CAME !!

idk_y/n you made me pookie 🫣

user1 before the relationship ahe was making all cute songs about coffee and now look at me pookie -

user2 u sure it was about coffee 👀

user3 my Spotify is tired of streaming this

pierregasly at least give me 10 pounds from your millions to click those pictures of you and Charles

idk_y/n you want me to spill your tab

pierregasly take my 100 pounds 🫠

charlesleclerc THE FIRST ❤️

idk_y/n certainly not the last 🫣

charleslecerc it was 7 times 🤭

user8 7 WHAT LECLERC

user9 oscar got to know how he was made -

user10 wha-

lilihye y/n, no seriously, stop being perfect !!

idk_y/n lily, no seriously, leave Alex

lilyhye done 🫶🏻

user11 y/n's comments are freaky ass -

user12 just like her juicy ass 🤤

[chlorinecake]

HURTS, DOESN'T IT? ✦ — 𝐉.𝐒𝐂 👾

▹ PAIRING: Boyfriend Sungchan x F. Reader

▹ SYNOPSIS: While at an arcade party to celebrate Halloween alongside your boyfriend and his friends, one random activity leads to another before you two find yourselves completely wasted and horny as fuck…

▹ WARNINGS: KINKTOBER SPECIAL, swearing, kissing, halloween themes, impact play, spanking kink, face slapping, giggly (but also very emotionally unstable) protected sex, exhibionism (public bathroom), ft. other kpop idols, mentions & consumption of alcohol, jealousy, that's about it

▹ WORD COUNT: 2.7k — DAY 9

T WAS SOMETIME during the second week in October when your boyfriend Sungchan got a text from his old college buddy about wanting to get in touch at some party.

The occasion was a fashionably early Halloween celebration at a local arcade where there’d be tons of food, good conversation, and entertainment.

Needless to say, the location choice was odd at best, but throwing a house party would’ve been much more expensive anyway.

And of course, knowing that the party could be an unfriendly zone for anyone in a relationship, Sungchan decided to take you with him as a date, both to stay out of trouble and because he didn’t want to leave you home alone that night.

“Babe, look at this,” Sungchan offered as you sat on the couch together, scrolling through a few pins from his Halloween costume Pinterest board. “Which one catches your eye?”

“Hmmm, that one,” you chirped with a smile, pointing to the photo that seemed easiest to recreate...

So, Sungchan ended up dressed as a basketball player and you as his cheerleader girlfriend, and everyone at the party absolutely adored your costumes.

It came to a point where you recall somewhere around 8 people asking to take a photo of you two by the time y’all actually got there, but I digress...

Considering this was a grown-ups-only party, there wasn't any candy or tricks involved, but there was a lot of booze and raunchy shenanigans.

Additionally, the arcade was a space strictly for adults, so you didn't have to worry about any little kids wandering the place or making a disturbing fuss, either.

“Ohhh, look what the cat dragged in,” your boyfriend’s clearly drunk friend remarked upon seeing you, who was ironically dressed as a tipsy-looking Jack Sparrow.

“This is my lovely girlfriend, _____.” Sungchan smiled awkwardly now, “____, Seonghwa... It’s time you two finally meet each other.”

“Nice to meet you, Seonghwa,” you offered as confidently as you could, shaking his hand while saying, “Thanks for having me, by the way.”

“Ahh, don’t mention it... You two lovebugs have fun now though,” Seonghwa slurred, all before stumbling away into the distance.

That’s when you felt Sungchan’s hand slip around your waist, pulling you close to him before whispering, “Is it just me, or are we currently too sober to enjoy this party?”

“No, it’s both of us,” you agreed with a painfully honest nod, making your boyfriend chuckle a bit as you both promptly made your way over to the drinks bar.

But since you step foot in the arcade, you feel like there is a second pair of eyes watching you aside from Sungchan’s, and you could bet on your grave that it is the barista running the bar.

“Hey guys! What can I get for the sexy player and his ditsy fangirl today?” She started sarcastically while annoyingly chewing on a wad of gum with her dark red lips, might I add?

“We’re actually a couple,” Sungchan answered before you could even get a word out, and fortunately so because you certainly didn’t have anything good to say to her.

“We’ll take whatever specials you guys are having tonight,” you began to say while glancing at the drink menu, but she had already helped herself to chatting things up with your boyfriend.

Right.

In.

Front of you…

Just from glancing at her name tag, you knew the skank went by “Samantha G” to most people, which only irritated even more once Sungchan nicknamed her “Sam.”

“You have such a bright smile,” she said, reaching a hand out to touch his arm. “God, and you’re strong,” she chuckled slightly before humming as if someone had just stuck a vibrator in her ass.

“Miss G, don’t forget that you’re hired to serve, not to swoon,” an employee from the back called out to her, and it was easy to hold back the laugh in your throat once Sam replied with:

“Oh, give me a break, Eunseok... Besides, with the outfit I’m wearing, I could easily get away with doing both.”

Gag me with a fucking spoon, you thought to yourself, feeling relieved to see Sungchan peeling that vipers grip away from his arm by her wrist.

“Serving and swooning?” Eunseok repeated with a look of cringe on his face, “You must be mistaking this job with Hooters.”

But nonetheless, Samantha lifted her chin proudly, ignoring his words as if her behavior right now was something to be proud of.

Eventually though, Eunseok got started on making your drinks while Samantha pretended to look busy.

Not wanting to cause any further confusion, you simply ignored her frequent glances towards you two, letting Sungchan pay the bill before walking off to enjoy yourselves.

And as the night continued, you and Sungchan helped yourselves to some pizza next, shooting hoops for a few rounds at the basketball game before eventually delighting yourselves to a Pac-Man tournament.

You obviously lost more than half of the rounds y’all played together, but only because you really needed to stop by the bathroom after all those drinks.

Sungchan cut the game off, returning it back to its default home screen before taking your hand and walking you to the ladies bathroom.

“I’ll be out in a bit,” you told him as you lazily kissed the apple of his cheek before waltzing inside, and he rested his back on the outside of the door, planning to wait until you were finished.

Though, you were starting to take a lot longer than promised, causing Sungchan to grow a bit suspicious...

So, being the rule-breaker that he often was whenever he drank too much, he walked inside the women’s bathroom, knocking on the stall door to see if you were okay.

And surprisingly, you weren’t in there throwing up your entire digestive system, so that concluded you fine for the most part...

The only issue was that your pussy wouldn't stop throbbing and leaking arousal all into your underwear, and even after trying to calm yourself down a few times, nothing was working—

“Baby, just let me in before some chick sees me standing here and assumes I’m harassing you,” Sungchan pleaded despite the calmness of his voice, impatient hands finding the pockets on his track pants.

“Fine, but I’m only letting you in if you promise to help me,” you pouted as if he could see you, and he let himself giggle at the whiny tone of your voice right now.

“Help you with what? Wiping yourself?” Sungchan teased, but all of that stopped once you opened the door to pull him inside.

“No, asshole… I seriously need you right now,” you whined again, and he kissed you, cupping your face in one hand and supporting the small of your back with another.

“I only did that to shut you up, by the way,” Sungchan muttered upon breaking from the kiss, turning back to open the door and leave. “Now let’s go back...”

“Channie, please…” You tugged on his arm.

“I’m not staying here in a women’s bathroom stall with you, ____,” he whisper-scolded.

“But I want you to be in here,” you went on, clinging to his arm like a koala in distress...

Sungchan sighed, finally closing the door back so you could stop whining. “Okay, baby, what’s all this really about... hm?”

You stayed quiet, only reaching inside the cup of your bra to pull out a condom packed in shiny blue foil.

“Baby,” Sungchan breathed out with a soft smile, finally realizing the true motive for your sudden change in behavior: “Why’re you letting that barista girl get to you?”

“I dunno, why’re you bringing her up?” You retorted, closing your hand around the condom you held, but Sungchan found your hand anyway, opening it back up and taking the condom himself.

“Because you’re obviously still bothered about how she was acting with me,” he returned, undoing his track pants while keeping eye contact with you, “and that’s okay... Even I get jealous sometimes.”

“I wasn’t jealous of that skank,” you correct him.

“Then what were you, baby?… Tell me…”

“I was... upset,” you admitted through a gulp once he freed his cock from his pants, and he was surprisingly somewhat hard already just from talking to you, “There’s a difference, y’know?”

“Sure... but what upset you?”

“That... that you just let her touch you and... and talk to you as if I wasn’t standing right fucking there,” you said with a frustrated tone, feeling your skin shiver at the sudden sound of him tearing the foil packaging before sliding the rubber over his tip and down his shaft.

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way, then." Sungchan apologized, and either being too drunk to notice or even care that he was being sarcastic, you closed the space between you two, looking him straight in the eye with your own lust-filled ones.

And before you knew it, he had your back against the wall, fucking his thickness into your sopping cunt as you clung to his shoulders, eyes shut with overwhelming pleasure.

Given the crammed space in the stall, it wasn't very easy to move around in there, let alone with two fully grown people. Though, at least one benefit was that the arcade restrooms weren’t like the cheesy ones with zero privacy...

The stalls were fully sealed all around, almost like a closet with a toilet in it, and judging from the thick wooden walls, they were pretty soundproof too for the most part.

His hands gripped at your ass as pretty little grunts fell from his lips, and all you could hear in the back of your mind was Samantha’s irritating voice.

“K-kiss me,” you breathed out suddenly, and Sungchan did just that, finding your lips in his own as you kissed him passionately, trembling at the sensation of his hands spreading your cheeks as he held you tighter.

That’s when you took his lower lip between your teeth, biting down hard enough to leave a mark.

“Fuck,” he swore as quietly as he could, and you released his lip, only because you wanted to see the pained look on his face as he kept fucking you.

“Why the hell did you bite me so hard, ____?”

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” You returned with a whisper, and he only hung his head, snickering to himself before looking back up to meet your eyes.

“You’re fucking crazy, y’know tha—ahhh...” His voice trailed off, but only because your walls kept clenching around him, your slick coating his entire pelvis now given how wet you were... though, your physical arousal didn't match your visible pleasure...

“Why're you holding your sounds in, huh?” Your boyfriend huffed, only to chuckle slightly at the docile look of sexual desperation overtaking your face now, “still trying to stay mad at me for no reason?”

“Even if I was, you're literally laughing at everything right now, so it'd be pointless,” you said with a surprisingly stable voice, only to tighten your jaw at how slow he was dragging his cock against your walls now, making you focus on every last inch of his length as he slid in and out of you, slow and steady...

“Stop that,” your voice came out strained, and you turned your face from him to hide how effected you truly were, but when his hands fiercely gripped at the sensitive flesh of your hips, you couldn't stop yourself from wincing.

“So bossy today,” he replied with a smirk, biting his own lip at the sight of your tough girl act crumbling before him.

“Go faster already, Sungchan,” you sighed with desperation, hating how he was delaying your release by going so slowly

“I'm sure Samantha wouldn't mind me fucking her at this speed,” he snickered, ghosting his hot breath right below your ear.

“The closest that bitch is ever getting to you again is in... in a dream,” you stammered out incoherently, but only because he was sucking on your neck now, surely leaving a mark as his hips finally picked up the pace.

“I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you,” Sungchan mumbles through grunts in between kissing your flesh, making your eyes go in and out of focus the faster he pistoled his cock into you. “She’s probably waiting for me in the stall beside us... touching herself while she listens to us fuck... wishing it was her—”

Smack!

You slapped him clean across the face, cutting off his words with your bitter force, and you’re not sure if that’s what makes his eyes appear watery at first...

Though, maybe, it was the feeling of your snug walls sucking him back in that made him tear up a bit, and it didn’t help how you subconsciously rolled your hips against his, desperate for more friction.

“Feel better after doing that, angel?” Sungchan asked in a wobbly voice now, and you could tell he was getting close just from how pronounced his veins looked now, coupled with the additional saliva pooling in his mouth.

Before you could even answer, he was back to kissing you, and his skilled tongue, despite all the drama it had caused thus far, was making you feel so good right now...

The contact was so sloppy, and primal even, with his powerful hips pushing through their own stuttering as he chased his high, spanking the swell of your ass to get your attention.

“I asked you a question, didn’t I, baby?” He offered through his adorably labored breaths, still trying to get that reply out of you before y’all left the stall.

Smack.

His large hand hit your ass again, making you jump against the wall as the painful sting traveled throughout your entire body, part of it turning you on somewhat.

“Sungchan,” you panted, tracing the swollen part of his lower lip that you had bit earlier, and now you were starting to feel your eyes tear up, too, “I’m sorry, I... I don’t know what made me do that.”

“It’s okay, angel, we’re both drunk out of our minds right now,” his voice began with a weak giggle, just as his arms were starting to feel numb for holding you for so long.

Fusing your back with the wall, you were shocked to feel that Sungchan could possibly reach even deeper inside you, and it was only with a few more thrusts while coupled with the pleasured whimpers you finally let out for him that your boyfriend reached his climax.

“Fuck, baby... ahh... nghh... fuckkk,” a string of curse words spilled from your lips, but Sungchan covered your mouth almost instantly once he heard someone open the bathroom entry door.

“Mmm,” you hummed again, but he shushed you with a finger, hearing a stall open and close just a few feet away from you before their footsteps stopped.

And you couldn’t be more lucky that there was faint music playing from the speakers, provoking you and Sungchan to get back dressed as fast as y’all could while you still had a chance at doing so undetected.

Your feet hit the ground with a gentle thud once he released you from his grasp, and you both smiled at how ridiculous you both felt in this moment.

Slipping off his soiled condom, he discarded it down the toilet, pinning you against the wall to find your lips in yet another harsh kiss as he hummed softly, “We’re never going to a party like this again, right?”

“Agreed,” you said back, readjusting your cheer skirt and panties as your boyfriend slid his pants up, ruffling his hair a few times before finally opening the stall door to leave...

Both of your emotions were always like a rollercoaster whenever you got drunk. One second you were both a bunch of moody lug nuts, and then the next, you two were practically inseparable...

With your arm hooked in Sungchan’s, you rested your head on his stature as he led you out of the bathroom stall, and you weren’t all that surprised to spot Samantha there, wide-eyed and confused as you and him casually walked out together.

“Did you guys... Why were you both?... Wait…"   Samantha’s voice trailed off as she tried her hardest to get a coherent sentence out but failed nonetheless once Sungchan and you started giggling to each other before walking out the restroom.

And you’re certain the stall you two had just left reeked of body warmth and sex, but being too drunk to spare a care, you both waved everyone off before heading home, only to flat out crash on your shared mattress and sleep the night away while still wearing your costumes...

⋆♱✮ Thanks to everyone who made it to the end of DAY 9's fic entry for my Kinktober Event !! This is a bit shitty tbh, but nonetheless, if you're interested in reading more works like this, feel free to check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist by clicking one of these links :3

⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:

@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash

@yourmomscuntis2tighy, @wonbinisbabygurl

@watamotee33, @addictedtohobi, @ot7sevenlvr

⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:

@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs

@mheretoreadff @skzfelixlove @inishij

@yaorzu-blog @andromedawillburyyou @ramyeonzprincess

@zaihypen @simjaeyunns @gardenwonnies @hynier

@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @enhymeowz @minhosimthings @stormy1408

@crownj1min @jay-0n3s @gacktsa @leeknowinggg

@d-dilemma @mrsjohnnysuh

[spiderb00bs]

- JUST FRIENDS?

Jenna Ortega x reader  

“The night seemed perfect for a love confession” 

Genre – fluff     Warnings – none 

(request) 

Now playing – I Know Love, by Tate McRae ft. The Kid LAROI 

“we started off friends, how we end up here?” 

Working with Jenna was one of the best experiences you've ever had. You saw that what everyone said was true, Jenna really was kind, charismatic, beautiful, talented and very professional. Although Jenna's professionalism made your job 1000% easier, you took it as a sign that she would never look at your relationship as anything more than work.   

During the shoot, you reached a level of friendship you never imagined you could. You and Jenna constantly hung out together after the shoot, talking about funny things that happened on set and just relaxing. When the promotions for the movie started happening, you and the brunette were instructed to be very intimate and touchy-feely in the interviews, since you two were playing a couple, so this would consequently generate a lot of promotion for the movie.  

After all the work fog cleared, you and Jenna kept in touch - making it even harder for you to try and put your feelings aside. Jenna was always perfect, she asked you out constantly, at first it was just going for walks while the two of you shared playlists, then you started meeting weekly to see plays that were showing, not just on Broadway, but also in small theaters that you found while walking around the city. Then you just met up to watch movies, or drink while chatting about random things.   

Every time you and Jenna went out, you fell more and more in love with the brunette, and without you knowing it, she found herself the same way. Jenna fell in love with you the first time she saw you, her heart raced immediately, her pupils dilated when you were near her, and her head went into overdrive every time you got close to her. The Latina found it extremely difficult that you hadn't noticed all her efforts, she knew you weren't an outgoing person, and she understood that. But at this point, it was practically impossible for you not to have noticed her advances.   

By tonight, Jenna was tired! She had planned everything, every word, how she was going to make the evening happen, how she was finally going to admit her feelings for you.   

The restaurant was full, the lights were low and the atmosphere was expensive and extremely elegant. You were slightly out of place, you and Jenna had never been to places like this, your dates had always been in more relaxed places, where you both seemed to let yourselves show, places where you could both be yourselves. Not that you didn't enjoy being in a restaurant, especially in Jenna's presence, but it all felt as if you were forcing yourselves into something you weren't.   

 "Do you want to order now?" You ask Jenna.   

 The woman, who was only pretending to read the menu, twisted her mouth slightly, something that might have gone unnoticed if you didn't know her so well. The truth was that the brunette was regretting, firmly regretting her choice of place. Looking around, she saw how the people in that restaurant were almost robots, bored rich couples, just sitting at the tables as if the fabric of the tablecloth was holding those empty relationships together.   

Sighing, Jenna put down her menu, looking around before stopping her gaze on you. "Do you want to get out of here?"   

Her tongue was covering part of her teeth, while she made that expression that made you go weak. For others, it was just another of Jenna's quirks, for you it was one of her most passionate expressions. 

"I'll go wherever you go." Your smile mirrored Jenna's, and the brunette stood up grabbing your hand before walking quickly to the exit.   

You and Jenna liked walking, so you rarely went out in the car. Running through the streets hand in hand, the two of you laughed, apologizing when you bumped into people. Some eyes were on you, of course people would be staring, two Hollywood actresses were running through the streets of New York like two kids. You were lucky not to be caught by paparazzi.   

Stopping momentarily at a street kiosk, you and the shorter woman looked at the dirty, greasy menu - a stark contrast to the world of elegance you were in minutes ago. Sitting on the sidewalk, you let the hot dog sauce fall on your white shirt.  

"You're a child." Laughing, the woman brushed her finger across your lips.  

Your eyes glazed over at the brunette as she kept her gaze on yours while you brought your thumb to her lips, watching her taste the sauce almost as if it were your own. Your eyes didn't stray from each other, and both you and Jenna swallowed the words you wanted to say.   

Clearing your throat, you stood up from the sidewalk, wiping your hands on your napkin and holding your hands out to Jenna to get her to stand up.  

"I have a copy of Nosferatu at home, you know, the old one." You said, scratching the back of your head as you tried to complete your train of thought. "Do you want to watch..."  

"Yes!" Jenna coughed covertly, trying to disguise how quickly she would follow you anywhere you went.   

"All right, let's go then." You smiled at the brunette, letting her cling to your bicep as you walked to your apartment. 

Jenna's head was resting comfortably on your shoulder, she had long since put the movie aside, focusing only on how she was going to approach the subject she was most looking forward to that night. realizing that the brunette wasn't paying attention to the art on the television, you paused the movie, glancing at Jenna to make sure she hadn't fallen asleep.   

"Hey, is everything okay? You're a bit off..." Jenna saw the concern in your eyes. The brunette loved the way you looked at her, she loved how loving you were.   

"I just have a lot on my mind right now." She said, looking at you tenderly.   

Sitting down properly on the sofa, you looked at Jenna expectantly. "Do you want to share?"  

Sighing, Jenna settled her head in the palm of her hand. "What would you do if you were into someone, but they had no idea?"   

You sighed, not wanting to let the sadness on your face let Jenna know how disappointed you were to hear that she liked someone.   

"Well, you could tell that person." You swallowed.   

"Do you think she'd like me?"  

"Jenna, anyone would be lucky to have you in their life. You're one of the strongest women I know, one of the best actresses I've ever worked with, if someone doesn't want to be with you they're at least stupid..."   

Suddenly, you were interrupted, Jenna's soft lips on yours. Your eyes widened slightly, the smaller woman's body was practically on top of you, Jenna's arms were wrapped around your neck and you finally relaxed, closing your eyes, putting your hands on her waist and enjoying the Latina's soft lips on yours. Kissing Jenna was exactly as you imagined, and happiness seemed to bubble up inside you.   

Breaking the kiss, you looked at Jenna, seeing the woman's eyes still closed as she tried to normalize her breathing. Raising your hand, you put a lock of Jenna's hair behind her ear, smiling.   

"I like you too, Ortega."  

And there, in the moonlight coming in through the window, you slept, snuggling Jenna to your chest, feeling everything you could say in words.  

But actions are worth more. 

Hey, look at me here again. 

Well, passing by very fast here, I have to keep working, so stay safe and drink water

xoxo, spider.

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | fake marriage au [18+]

in holy matriphony drabble no1. new neighbor

ᰔ pairing. fake marriage au - neighbor&realtor!gojo x nurse!reader (ft. choso x reader & suguru x reader)

ᰔ drabble summary. you visit your new next-door-neighbor's house to welcome him to the neighborhood only to find issue with the fact that's he's insanely hot (note to any potential new readers: you can read this before starting the main storyline if you'd like!)

ᰔ main storyline summary. gojo satoru is your extremely annoying next-door-neighbor who you're pretty sure is the most insufferable man you've ever met. given the fact that you exclusively work the night shift at a chaotic emergency dept, just got broken up with your boyfriend of seven years, and have been taking care of your sick mother ever since her multitude of diagnoses, yet somehow your neighbor is the main source of stress in your life should speak volumes. but when your mother's medical bills start to skyrocket to more than you can manage, and you learn that said neighbor of yours has the best private health insurance plan in the country, you ask him to enter a matrimonial agreement with you for the spousal benefits all in the name of saving a few hundred thousand dollars. but you'll have to see if suffering cohabitation w him is worth any amount of money.

ᰔ genre/tags. fluff, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), annoyances to lovers (that's more like it), small town romance, fake marriage, next door neighbors, lots of bickering, suburban shenanigans, slow burn, mutual pining, gojo likes to play house but you don't, hatred for the american healthcare system, gojo always forgets to mow the lawn, jealousy, an insane amount of profanity, mentions of cigarettes, depression/anxiety; btw gojo in this fic is in his mid 30s n reader is in her late 20s

ᰔ warnings. reader in this fic has a sick mother w alzheimer's & cancer so there is secondary medical angst!!

ᰔ words. 2.4k

a/n. hiiiiii welcome to this first ihm drabble!! i just had an idea of writing a small scene of when ihm gojo & reader first met so :0 cracked this out in an hour. hope you enjoyy!!

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 (pending)

There were a great deal of possibilities you had expected to see when you rang the doorbell to your new next-door-neighbors house, but none of them were quite what you had ended up seeing at the front door when it had swung open.

Perhaps it could’ve been a newlywed couple, looking stressed beyond belief with thin lines under their eyes over the agony that comes with moving into a new home with a partner. It could’ve been a teenager, possibly a broody one, because your parents moving the family out to some random town right in the middle of your high school years would’ve made any kid emo. Or it could’ve been an old wrinkly man, grumpy and a little sore to the eyes and entirely too irritated by someone ringing his doorbell because it fucked up the frequency transmitter on his hearing aids.

Instead, when the door flew open, your neck craned up to meet the eye contact of the most stupidly hot and handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. Well, at least certainly in all of this smalltown in Dayton county. They don’t build men like that here. With stunning blue eyes that stare deep into yours, hair that’s boyishly shaggy yet looks so soft at the same time, tall, muscular, broad shoulders. And the soft cotton of his pajama long-sleeve shirt with the matching plaid pants clinging to the curves of strong biceps and thighs has you full-fledged staring at this—…dare-you-say, incredibly husband-material of a man.

You almost forget you have a boyfriend for a second. And, for the record, your boyfriend is a sexy piece of ass too (Choso if you’re reading this please know that I love you very much and Gojo would have to fight a feral bear to steal me away from you). But, god, was it a crime to find another man attractive occasionally?

He blinks at you, eyes wide like he was equally as shocked to take in the appearance of you. You’re also sure the last thing he expected was a visitor right now at 2:33pm on a Tuesday, but you had finally seen all the UHAUL trucks pulled up in his driveway and the men moving furniture into his house leave the neighborhood, so you felt now would be a good time to introduce yourself.

“Hi,” he finally says to you, rubbing the back of his neck like it’s sore, “uhh…can I help you?”

You’re momentarily speechless. “Oh! I’m—” you take a pause to breathe because words are suddenly unspeakable without at least a gallon of air in your lungs, “I’m y/n, I live next door.” You point to your house. “I just saw you moving in and so I…wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood!” You hold out the paper plate wrapped in tin foil that you were holding. “I made some pumpkin bread for you.”

The corner of his mouth curls up slightly, eyebrows raising pleasantly. “Oh, that’s really sweet, thanks,” he says with a tone that suggests he’s surprised by the hospitality and you briefly wonder where he’s moved here from. He takes the plate from you and balances it on his palm.

An awkward silence.

“Uh, did you wanna—” he points his thumb over his shoulder to behind himself, “did you wanna come inside?”

You blink at him.

“I mean, the place is kind of a mess right now, but—”

“Yes,” you cut him off.

He smiles at you, relaxed now compared to that hesitance from before, and he uses his back to push the door open more while stepping aside for you to walk inside, and walk inside is exactly what you do.

The house is a little cold, with no heater running, and incredibly empty. It’s pretty much the exact copy layout of your house, as all houses in the neighborhood are, except the color tones within this one are much brighter. The foyer is crowded with stacked cardboard boxes, some open and some not, with styrofoam sprawled all across carpet and hardwood, and you take a moment to admire the seafoam green loveseat pressed flush up against one of the walls.

“Got it on Facebook Marketplace,” he tells you, and you glance over at him to see him watching you assess his furniture, “lots of surprisingly good finds on there.”

You smile at him and stand up straight.

“I’m Satoru, by the way,” he says, leaning his shoulder against the door now before crossing his arms, “sorry, I don’t think I introduced myself to you earlier.”

“Ohh, no worries. You’re probably tired from moving in?” you ask, trying not to feel awkward in this essentially-a-stranger’s house.

“Very,” he laughs.

“What made you move here?”

“Oh, just, uh, my job. My family’s out here too, so figured it’d be nice being a little closer to them. But I was in a bit of a rush to close on something out here, so I just bought the first place I could find.” He peers in towards the house, eyes darting across his empty dining room. You notice slabs of deconstructed wood are leaned up against the wall. “But it’s nice. Neighborhood’s nice too.”

“Oh yesss we have wonderful people maintaining it!” you tell him.

He flashes you one of those smiles again. “You’ve lived here a while?”

“Yes! I was born and raised here, actually,” you say and then point a finger in the direction of your house, “that’s actually the only house I’ve ever lived in.”

His eyes widened. “Wow, that’s rare.”

“Yuppp. Just my mom and I now.”

“Oh, is your mom the one that was out gardening yesterday?” he asks. “Pulling out weeds on the edges of the driveway?”

You sigh. “Yes. That’s her. Er, at least I’m pretty sure it is, because I always tell her not to garden anymore, but she never listens to me.”

He lets out a well-meaning scoff, and you wonder if he’ll ask you more questions about it, but he lets the conversation settle into a silence instead. You discretely steal a glance at his left hand when he untucks it from his crossed arms to scratch at his jaw, and you notice there’s no wedding ring on his finger.

“Do you want some coffee?” he asks.

You blink at him. “Oh, I—…sure.”

He leads you into the kitchen, which you notice is mostly set up with all the appliances out on the counters and glass cabinets filled with ceramic sets of mugs and plates. He has an espresso machine set up in the corner of the stover counter, and you follow him right up to it.

“Woooow an espresso machine, I’ve always wanted one of these.”

He flits his gaze to you with a smile on his face before he grabs the handle of the portafilter, twisting it to release it from the machine, and then he presses some button that pushes steam out of it. “It’s worth it if you’re a daily coffee drinker.”

You sigh, leaning your elbow on the counter as you watch him. “Oh, I survive off of coffee, please. I work as a night shift nurse at the ED over on Main Street, so I need all the caffeine I can get.”

“You’re a nurse? That’s good to know,” he says, measuring out beans on a small digital scale. You turn to face him a little more, entirely intrigued by the process now. “If I’m ever in a life or death situation, can I give you a call?”

“If you’re still able to give me a call, then you’re not in a life or death situation.”

He gives you another one of those smiles, a little cheekily lopsided this time, like he’s really enjoying this conversation with you. It’s probably something that’s pleasantly mentally stimulating to his exhausted mind as he’s likely spent the last three days or so talking to no one except the UHAUL truck people and the melancholic memorabilia within his boxes of stuff. It was as easy as any small talk could be, this conversation, and it’s coming a little too naturally for your own liking as well.

He puts the beans in the grinder, and you hear a whirring sound as they are ground into fine particles that release a rich aroma of bitter into the air.

“This seems awfully tedious. I take back my desire of wanting an espresso machine,” you comment, pushing your knuckles into your cheek now as you perch yourself up by an elbow on the counter.

He laughs as he sifts the grounds into the portafilter, breaking up any clumps, and then he twists it onto the espresso machine before placing a mug underneath it. “Yeah, there’s a steep learning curve with it, but once you perfect it, it’s pretty easy. A lot can go wrong that can affect the quality of the shot though, for sure.”

“Like what?” you ask, a little too interested.

“Uhh, you can over extract, which leaves kind of a bitter taste, or under extract, which makes it taste sour. Usually depends on the ground size or the tamping. Plus, when you switch beans, you’ve gotta experiment on the settings all over again.”

You hear the whirring of the machine plus the delicate steady drip of the espresso into the mug. “I have a headache just listening to that. Why bother at all?”

He nods his head slowly, glancing at the watch on his wrist, and after a set amount of seconds has passed, he turns the machine off then peers into the mug. “Well, taste it and see if it’s worth it,” he says, handing the mug to you.

You take it from him, the fragrance of coffee immediately making your mouth water. And you take a delicate sip of the coffee, a slight bitterness hitting your tongue followed immediately by sweetness from the crema that has your eyes widening.

“Oh. Oh wow. Incredibly worth it,” you say.

He laughs. “Milk? Sugar?”

“Gosh no, I’ll just have it like this, please.”

You both chat a little bit more as he makes himself a cup too. You notice that he has his coffee black, as essentially an Americano, which he pours over ice in a shiny glass even in the cool of autumn. 

Apparently he’s a real estate agent, selling properties a little out further than the county line, in more posh areas than here. Like all those cliff-side homes you see when you’re driving further out of town and always sigh to yourself wondering if you’ll ever get to live in a pretty house like that someday. 

His parents live nearby as well as his younger sister’s family and he has a niece who’s four years old. And you want to ask so badly if he has a family of his own as well, but if he did, wouldn’t they be here with him? 

“Holy shit this is amazing,” he says through a muffled mouthful of the pumpkin bread you brought for him, “you made this from scratch?”

No. You used a pre-made mix. “Oh gosh, yes, I’m something of a little baker, if you will.”

He nods, letting out an indulgent sigh as he chews, eyes shutting close tightly in satisfaction of the taste and you find it amusing. He has a physical build that you could only assume requires an immense amount of discipline, but it’s kind of cute to see he’s somewhat weak for sweets.

You glance at the time on your phone. “Ah, I have to get going. I need to take my mom somewhere, but um, it was really nice meeting you! Hopefully I’ll see you around in the neighborhood?”

He nods his head, “oh, yeah, definitely.”

Your cheeks warm a little.

He walks you to the front entrance, and you briefly glance out the window into his driveway. “Oh. There’s a boat.”

He walks up right next to you, his arm pressed against your shoulder as he stands close, and you note that he smells so nice, like shampoo and clean laundry. The softness of his pajamas brushes against your skin and it makes you borderline dizzy.

Choso would be pissed off to the nines if he knew you were feeling things for your next-door-neighbor. Cut it out already, you think to yourself.

“Oh they finally brought my boat in,” he comments, “sweet.”

“That’s yours?” you ask, turning to face him in surprise, “it’s huge!”

“Yup, just bought it,” he says, shoving his hands in his pants pockets as he walks up to the window to peer out the blinds. “A beauty, she is.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s not a she, it’s an it.”

“To you, maybe. But to me?…she’s so much more than that,” he says, but there’s some self-regarding hint of satire in his voice.

“Uh-huh,” you say, slipping your shoes back on at the door. “It’s kind of…lengthy though. Where are you going to park it?”

He shrugs. “Probably right out there. Where it is right now.”

Where it is right now?!?! The hull is dangerously close to the entry of your driveway. There’s no way that would be agreeable with you. How are you supposed to pull your car in?

“Um. I’m pretty sure I’d have difficulties pulling my car in if you parked it there,” you tell him politely as he opens the door for you and you step out onto the concrete step of his front entrance.

You turn around to face him and see him squinting his eyes at his boat with inspection of your concern. Sorry for sounding repetitive, but it's seriously shocking. The way he looks. The way that small little expression—his eyes narrowing, brows furrowing, bottom lip slightly jutting out, all paired with the haphazard way his hair falls over his eyes—makes you stare at him like he’s some Grecian sculpture. It was a little concerning.

But, at the end of the day, attraction is merely cognitive, is it not? A social construct, if you will. Something that can go away just as easily as it comes, and then arrive once more as easily as it went away.

A pattern you’ll eventually realize a lot with your new next-door-neighbor, Gojo Satoru.

“Nah,” he says, “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

[end of drabble]

a/n. alternate universe where they fuck on the marble countertop of his kitchen island on first encounter pls

🏷️ @tremendousbouquetflower @semra4 @noctuaism @gojonegs @reinam00n

@bloopsstuff @bbyxxm @yungbloode @elloredef @spriteshawtyy

@joemama-2 @luniunia @4y3sh4 @ironhottubstranger @lushafterglow

@hermizery @manyno @idiot-juice-enthusiast @fairyflorasworld @teramisuyhin

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@anniegojo @rirk-ke @chiyokoemilia @higurumapet @pickuptruck01

@electrckchild @vi-ola666 @arishaxml @lavender-hvze @starmapz

@sxnkuna @billiondollarworth @fallintothechasm @mavvsmm @satorubluu

@ricaliscious @satxoru @oyaoya-bungeegum @satowooo @samistars

@ifartmangos @andeverden @13-09-01 @lindyloomoo @tvdumarvelhpsimp

taglist is closed

[citrinae]

forgive me, for i love being bad for you.

sanji x reader (ft. platonic!zoro)

summary; everyone agrees that you and roronoa zoro are like two peas in a pod: cool, unbothered, hitting pubs on the regular. everyone, except your boyfriend sanji—who’d try anything to distract you from your visibly chaotic lifestyle. even visiting a potion shop. or: sanji needs to get out of his head in four acts. 

contents; angsty vibes, lowkey love triangle, miscommunication™, abandonment issues, drinking, sex pollen, a little dubcon tbh, piv, oral sex (both receiving), facesitting, multiple orgasms, creampie, college/modern!AU, witch!sanji, jealous!sanji, afab!reader, wc: 7.3k (wheezes), mdni. spooky carnival is still in town, go catch it if you’re in for a bad time.

masterlist.

i. 

Zoro sets his glass back on the table with a forceful clink. There’s liquor rolling to the corner of his lips. 

“I still don’t get it,” annoyance hangs from his voice as he speaks. “How the fuck you put up with him?”

Your reflection looks back at you from the amber in your glass. 

“He’s sweet and he cooks for me,” you mean it. Despite Zoro’s lack of trust in your newfound romance, slightly taking to repulse, Sanji has been nothing but a dream to you. Resting his cheek on yours as you were watching some movie you borrowed for the night, swinging hands as he took you grocery shopping. Everything about him buzzes with the type of comfortable affection one meets in magazines, or in Christmas commercials, and you’re sure to fall harder for him by the day. “Have you taken the time to cook for someone you dated?”

“Yeah?” Zoro washes the accusation away with another sip. “You into cooks?”

“Apparently.”

“‘s he a good cook?”

A smile, prideful. “Nothing but a wizard in the kitchen.”

“Christ, you’re even starting to sound like him,” he teases further. “Putting random words together and expecting to make sense.”

“He’s a good cook, Zoro,” you tell him again. 

There’s a pause. 

“No kidding.”

At a loss of what to say, you clumsily try to fill the silence.

“Yeah.” 

“As long as you like him or whatever,” defeated, waving his hand. “Just keep him outta my sight, will you?”

“Deal,” you say, downing your drink as you do. Bitterness lingers on the roof of your mouth, throat burned and numbed out. Suddenly your mind wanders somewhere else. “Care for another round?”

Zoro’s smirk is sly, devilish. “Now that’s more like my language.”

So you get yourselves a second refill that turns into a third, and a forth, until there’s no more use to bother about keeping count. Your surroundings seem to start whirling for a second. You close your eyes, then open them. And everything gets back into place.

On the day you met him, somewhere around campus, basking in the sun like a stray cat on trim lawn, you and Zoro hit off immediately. Scruffy hair, bomber jackets, eyes looking like he’s about to fall asleep any minute, Zoro is the type to never dwell on things for longer they’re worth. Always a guy of instinct, speaking truths others might opt to stay away from. On the other hand you have a knack for chaos he easily complements, so for over a year now he’s been a good and loyal friend to you, your time together something neither of you would regret or give up on.

He’s the one who introduced you to Sanji. Now it’s clearer to you that Sanji had most probably asked him to. Neither of them expected it when you agreed to go out with him, “It’s just a fucking date, chill out. Free meal you know?”; and to your own surprise, your heart skipped a good beat when you saw him that night.

Sanji. Annoying, perverted, absolutely fucking delusional Sanji, lighting up a cigarette in front of his car. Light fell nicely on his rings as he kept a hand around a flower bouquet—the pretentious kind, with a wrapper and ribbon and all. Red button-up, black jeans, coat. Heart-warming smile. 

Everything about the scene felt like something taken from those really sugary rom-coms you and Zoro make fun of when drunk. Yet somehow you admired Sanji for putting in the effort. His hand quivered on the door handle, “You look sensational, my dear.” Adjusting your seat belt, you told him that he didn’t look so bad himself, and by the pink crossing his face as you did, you deduced he might not be used to having flattery thrown his way. 

At dinner he told you he was raised in a small restaurant down east, and that they sold soy wax candles and herbs right next door. Wiping up your mouth with a handkerchief, you tried to come up with a quip around it, “And you stocked healing crystals and runes as well, right?” But then he just propped his hand in a palm, a wide smile blooming on his face that made you unsure whether he was playing along with the narrative or simply felt happy to talk about his past. “Sometimes we did, yeah. But we were more into the culinary side of things.”

When, a couple days later, you told Zoro that you and Sanji had spent the night together, he didn’t hesitate to let you know that he thought it a bad idea. He warned that Sanji was weird—not in the sense that he had a wandering eye or spent a rent-worth on cigarettes. He was simply weird. Fingers drumming on wood, “Caught him mustering some nonsense crap to a jar once. Like he was enchanting it or something.” Soon you were reliving the conversation you had on your first date. “You mean he’s, like, Sabrina the Teenage Witch?” Zoro didn’t catch it. “Who?” he said, and you waved him off. “Nevermind.”

The sneer he wore back then was similar to the one he makes now, seeing the blue light of your phone fill the room with a notification. 

“It’s him,” you say, fingers instinctively hovering to your lock screen. Neither can you help looking at the hour displayed in blinding white: 01:51 A.M. 

Zoro keeps himself from rolling his eyes. “Tell him I’m bringing you to your dorm.”

You text; the reply comes in a beat. 

“He asks if you even know where my dorm is.”

“Of course I—” Zoro clicks his tongue. Then he snatches the phone from your hands and presses ‘record’. “Of course I know where to go you jackass,” he snarls, throat pulsing. 

Taking your phone back, you check the message popping in not long after. “He says he’s coming over.”

“Fine then. Whatever.” It’s low. He sounds irritated. “Let’s pay and we’ll wait for your princess outside.”

And that’s exactly what you do; take care of the bill, grab your jackets and throw yourselves out. Feeling the crisp air on your cheeks, you realise you’re so much drunker than you’ve felt inside. You’re light, feathery, persistently on the verge of being blown out. Concrete flounders around you and you have to put in some additional effort to maintain your balance. Time becomes harder for you to register or something Zoro has just said made you cackle for too long because here is Sanji, your sweet boyfriend Sanji, parking his car not too far away from your forms. You can tell he put on himself the first things he saw in the wardrobe. His hair is slightly disordered, his step heavy as he rushes to your direction. 

“Evening Angel,” Sanji chirps, pulling you into a hug, and you cannot help but dig your nose into the soft fabric of his hoodie, closing your eyes, glad to finally have something to lean your weight onto. His tone drops when he looks at Zoro. “Mosshead.”

Zoro’s hands are sunk into his pockets. “Told you I got everything under control.”

“Pardon me if I didn’t believe you.” Sanji is sardonic. “Looking at the state of this slump, seems like I was right not to.”

“Not my idea to come here, bitch,” Zoro drones. His breath fogs the air as he speaks. “Next time get your head outta your ass and listen to people before running your mouth.”

Some of Sanji’s cologne still hangs from the soft fabric. “This was the only place that allowed us to play cards,” you say against his chest.

“Aha,” he flattens his hand across your back. “At least tell me you played for money and bled this loser dry. Tomorrow will get yourself something pretty with stupid mosshead pocket change.”

“You done talking?” Zoro says through gritted teeth. 

“Yeah,” Sanji’s lips press into a thin line. He’s slowly urging you towards the car. “We’ll be off in a beat.”

“We didn’t play for money,” you tilt your head to look at him, trying to match his steps as you distance yourselves from the pub. 

“What a pity.” Between wry and affectionate. 

You raise a loose fist in the air. “Till the next one, Zoro!”

“See ya daredevil,” Zoro shifts his weight from one leg to another. “Tuck your princess in and give him a sweet goodnight’s kiss, yeah?”

“Fuck you,” Sanji heaves, closes the door behind you. 

On the way to your dorm, he doesn’t ask about how many you had or lecture about being alone—with Zoro—late at night. Why would he? He’s aware this is a part of you, and he’d lie if he said he doesn’t melt watching the glimmer in your eye and your lips curling into a wicked smirk each time you tell him how much fun you had. Though he does worry about you, sometimes, when you willingly throw yourself in all kinds of dangerous shenanigans. Seeing your head slipping down the backrest, silently Sanji casts a spell on your eyelids to make sure you sleep unbothered until tomorrow morning. Tucks some strands of hair behind your ear, yet his eyes are still fixed on the road, and his hands are both rested on the steering wheel. 

Normally, he wouldn’t have been so exhibited with his magic had you been awake. But for now he takes the liberty to carry himself as if he were alone or in the company of the shitty bunch at the Baratie that taught him the craft to begin with. Foliage and plains and cottages move remotely in his wingspan while he continues to think of you. Your smile, your laughter, the nonchalant way you coil your arms around his own to show you around the places that you have so many stories to tell about. To him you are a bundle of new experiences and joy, something pleasant and airy he wishes to emanate himself someday. Always honest, always so easy to approach. Dandelion seeds whirling loosely in the wind. 

But the one thing he cannot seem to take his mind from is that having a bent for partying also means having a bent for Zoro. 

Lazy, shabby, perpetually absent-minded Zoro. 

His hands tighten on the steering wheel. 

Sanji has never really liked the guy, for reasons he doesn’t have the time or energy to list. Tolerance is perhaps too much to describe the compromise he’s willing to take; but he attempts it, for your sake. Because no matter how he tries looking at things Zoro adds something to this life of yours he certainly doesn’t have, or doesn’t know how to make up for. No matter how well you fit in his arms, early in the morning with sleep still heavy on your lashes, throaty voice narrating a dream so bizarre it plucks a laughter from his lips, the nights will always be reserved to someone he wouldn’t even bother to understand. Because he doesn’t want to. 

Window rolls down; he lights up a cigarette. 

Moments pass. His car stops by a pair of victorian-esque gates he doesn’t take long to recognise. He carries you on his back all the way to your dorm room, putting to sleep everyone he stumbles upon as he does; he isn’t supposed to be here, and certainly you aren’t supposed to return this late at night. He’s thankful you chose to sleep in the bottom bed. With this thought in mind he arranges your pillow and places you under the covers, slowly, gently almost like you were made of glass. From his tote bag he picks out a flask and a piece of paper he scribbles on: “for your hangover—sanji <3” 

ii.

The sun bleeds through stained glass in dazzling shades of pink and blue and yellow. Wind chimes, cluttered shelves. Dusted books. The air is thick with the smell of wood and incense. Sanji picks at the fingers that he keeps tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. He isn’t allowed to smoke in here, but fuck does he need a drag. Light catches across the variety of bottles and jars lined up in front of him, all displayed in eye-catching colours and labelled in alphabetical order. 

Would I? He tries his best not to pick up the light blue piece lingering a little too at hand not to be a work of fate. Should I? Sanji kisses his teeth; he takes the thing into his palm. 

There’s a piece of paper attached by lace ribbon. Writing is dainty, yet small and hardly intelligible.

Truth shows itself in wicked colours;

betrayal, freedom, promise.

For they who shall drink this wicked brew

take a night in their beloved’s embrace.

Is their bond seen pure and true,

the Garden sees no place for others.

Like the first lovers on Earth— 

runaways from Eden, they shall be.

Sanji takes a deep breath. Flips the flask on all sides, reading and rereading, biting his inner cheek. It’s not like he doesn’t trust you. He does, with all his heart. And yet he cannot help but shamelessly wonder: if Zoro hadn’t introduced you, would you and him have ended up together? Does he stand in the way of something which is meant to be? “I’m pathetic, fuck.”

He tastes blood. 

Talking to you about this is out of the question, since that would mean admitting Zoro is a better match for you. Plus, honesty is one of the things he admires about you. He’s sure you wouldn’t cheat. To bring this up would only lead to conflict and the sort of disappointment he’d rather choke to death than see reflected in your eyes. 

“This shit is ridiculous.”

The flask makes a frail sound as Sanji throws it in his basket. Stomping the floor with his foot, a cold sweat bobbing at his nape, at checkout he’s greeted by a gorgeous woman dressed in a velvet dress and speaking with a faint voice he doesn’t care enough to pay attention to. There’s a black cat sleeping on a shelf behind her. 

“Is this everything you needed?” she asks, carefully placing the goods in a paper pag. 

Sanji drops some cash on the counter and leaves without saying a thing to her. 

iii. 

“What do you think, my dear?” Sanji asks you on the other side of the table. The potion he bought a week ago forms a bump inside the pocket of his dress pants. 

You want to be sure of your answer, so you take another forkful of your food, still steaming hot and methodically arranged on the plate. It’s good. No, it’s tremendously good, better than you imagined it to be. 

“Sanji, this is incredible,” you say, not allowing yourself the time to fully swallow. “And I’m not only saying this because I like complimenting you.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” His face brightens, a mix of pride and the unpretentious joy he takes from cooking to other people. However he still looks to be preoccupied by something else you never find the right timing to ask about. 

Embarrassment hitching up your throat, you drag your fork across ceramic. Sanji stays silent for a moment; his plate is barely touched. In hopes to escape the tension, your eyes wander to look at his curtains, his shelves, an enframed picture with a gruff old man and a much younger Sanji cheerily holding out a slice of lemon cheesecake. The apartment is small, but tasteful, with decent flooring and a rent anyone your age can afford. White walls, light blue cushioning. A closed balcony where he grows basil and rosemary. 

You are going to sleep over tonight. It’s not that you've never done this before; have dinner together before deciding on a movie you’ll never get to watch because his hand grips on your thigh a little too tightly and your knee presses itself somewhere too bold to go unnoticed. But something feels different now, you cannot quite tell why. He feels different. With his avoidant eyes and stuttering words and index finger that frequently climbs to scratch an eyebrow. 

“If you wanted to break up with me you could’ve chosen a café, you know?” you hear yourself saying, arms folded. 

“What?” His chair scrapes the floor; he tries not to cringe from the sound.  “No, no.” It's ferm. It's rushed. “Why would you think that?” goes unsaid. 

Fingertips digging into the table, Sanji doesn't know how he ended up on his feet. He takes the opportunity to take the seat next to yours, plate and cutlery clanking along as he does. “No one's breaking up with anyone, sweetheart,” words fight their way through the knot in Sanji's throat. 

Sanji shoves his fork in his food which now looks less parmigiana and more like something a primary school kid would make for their art class assignment. Fuck, adding wasted food to his trainwreck fog of thoughts is the last thing he wants for tonight. After he swallows it down, his tone finally relaxes. 

“I was actually thinking of proposing something, now that we’re soon to move up to dessert. Something I'd like us to try,” he says. 

It registers quickly. “Like in bed?”

“It might sound a little weird, though.” Sanji avoids meeting your eyes. His chest rises and falls in a disjointed rhythm as he tries his best to empty his plate. 

“I like weird,” you say, propping your head on a fist, curiosity pushing your mouth a little higher. 

He cannot help but mimic your smile. “Well I bought us something.”

“You did.”

“Yeah, I did.” Not wasting any more time, he pulls the flask out of his pocket, displays it on the dinner table—clear liquid bottled in cerulean crystal, ribbon unfastened and label removed. Your eyes widen. “I was doing some grocery shopping, and stumbled upon this,” Sanji explains. 

You take it in your hands, blinking, carefully not to damage the contents. “Is this an aphrodisiac?” 

“You can call it that,” he says. “It stimulates the senses, so everything should feel a little more intense than usual. I know I haven’t been necessarily adventurous with you, dear,” looking into his plate, then at you. Inevitably he starts thinking of Zoro. “Thought maybe I can start from somewhere.”

Your hand reaches his. “You don’t have to go out of your way for me. You’re perfect for me, yeah? And I have fun with you. Lots of it, actually.”

“I know—” heat rising in throat, he reaches to loosen his shirt collar. “I mean, you’re perfect for me, too, hell I cherish each and every moment we spend together. Kind of felt intrigued to experience this with you, is all. However it’s definitely ok and understandable if you don’t feel comfortable doing it.”

Inspecting the flask in your hands, you give it a second of thought. You know the kind of shops Sanji frequents: equipped with dust and smoke and mysteries. The between-buildings types you have asked about before, and received a response either too vague or too straightforward to be taken seriously. Even still, trust has never been an obstacle. You trust Sanji; he has trustworthy eyes and a soothing voice that feels like a kiss on one’s eyelids. He’s good to you, always has been, when he cradles your face in his palms and calls you his sun and moon and stars, stardust dripping from his eyes as he assures you’re the best he’s had. 

“Does this have any side effect or some sort?” you look up to search for his gaze, and like pulled by a magnet Sanji returns it. 

“No,” he says. “Wears off in the morning. Like nothing happened.”

If you don’t end up running to Zoro, that is. There’s a sinking feeling in his stomach as the thought snipes through his mind. He’s not sure how to feel about lying to you, either. But maybe it’s for the best; if it turns out he isn’t your meant-to-be after all.  

Decisive, “Fuck it. Let’s do it, then.”

Sanji’s smirk fades out the anxiety. “In this case our next course will consist of one more secret ingredient.”

Feet swinging, tapping against the floor. Walls drifting apart and closing in. Moments have passed through you like sequences from a dream, and you fiddle with the sleeves of your sweater as Sanji sets the dessert on the table—two delicate things, like they were long intended to play the highlight of your night, light pink and beautifully decorated with dried rose petals and pomegranate seeds. For a minute you marvel at Sanji’s attention to detail, the love he puts into any dish as he turns them into something special and palatable. 

“Baby,” your laugh is a casual play at fragrancy Sanji takes in with a one-sided smile. “There’s no way I can run my teaspoon into this.”

He takes the seat to your right. “The real deal happens when you taste it, sweetheart,” he says, reaching for a teaspoon of his own, strands of blonde hair brushing one cheek as he does. 

And when you eventually do it, run tableware through moulded cream, you relish the sweetness that melts on the roof of your mouth. Sanji asks if you can tell the other thing apart from the dish. You say no, I don’t, do you? I think it’s the pomegranate, he acts like he’s uncertain even though you’re sure it shouldn’t take more than a few seconds. I only used some as decor. But here it’s rather pungent, not that I’m complaining. Child’s play. Halfway through your tasting, a second question comes. 

Do you feel anything? 

I don’t. 

Do you?

No.

Sanji’s heart clutches in his chest. He’s impatient, laughable even, he knows he is, since spells like this should take longer to surface. Three times he mouthed the chant and the potion gracefully vanished into steam as it poured down the servings, no drops left. By the look of that, Sanji might at least expect something to happen. Either bad or reassuring. 

Yet you stay your familiar comfortable selves even after you’ve eaten the whole thing, carrying on as such when you help him—at least attempting to, he never lets you lift a finger—clean the table and watch him washing the dishes from one of his counters. Sleeves pushed to elbows, fingers sunk into the sponge, hair pushed into concentrated, concentrating eyes. Water rolls off his wrists—drip, drop. He tells you something, but you cannot hear him. It hovers towards the ceiling and in the back of your head, a muffled sound engulfing you not less like the numbing feeling of being underwater. Shamelessly you ask him to repeat. 

Okay, maybe you do start feeling some way. 

Sanji turns off the tap. A crushing silence. 

“I was wondering if you thought of something to watch tonight,” he turns to look at you, and stops. 

He cannot tell if it’s your eyes, suddenly looking bigger, or your collarbones, stretching in and out in anticipation, wet lips looking wetter, slightly parted as you breathe, but he feels helplessly drawn to you, like you’ve been tied up by some invisible rope that keeps rolling up, more and more, thinning the space between your bodies. Air catches in his lungs as he lets himself be torn apart by his awe and not knowing what to do with it. 

Just as indiscreetly you wrap your eyes around his shoulders, his chest, his biceps, looking so much more strained under his shirt. Watching him make a step towards you, it seems like his eyes have gotten brighter, cheeks catching a faint tinge of pink, and you have to fight the impulse to dip a hand under your sweater and see how those long fingers of his would feel on you. 

Your fingertips bite into the front edges of the counter. “Not yet, no,” you say, a little disconnected from yourself. Sanji’s scent is an intoxicating mix of rosemary and sandalwood. “Guess we’ll have to browse and see what comes our way.”

“Sure. We’ll look.” Stepping forward, Sanji is the most relaxed he’s felt in days, his limbs and shoulders so much lighter as he moves, comfortably numb in the absence of a thought which has weighted on his back like a fiend draining him of his life force. He knows he has been waiting for something tonight, an answer, you calling a name he cannot bring himself to remember, and yet his mind is blank with nothing but the image of his lips crashing on yours. 

His presence radiates need, and it sends an electric shiver down your spine as he comes closer to you, fingers running over your knuckles. When your eyes align with his, you find it impossible to look anywhere else. So you sink into the blue and drown. Sanji leans further in, and his breath is sultry against your earshell as he speaks. 

“Fuck knows what’s happening to me, dear,” he says, a hoarse sound that makes your thighs squeeze together. “But please tell me you’ll ride my face before anything else.”

But he sure knows what’s going on. He put a spell on you; or something along these lines. 

Your body moves by its own as you push forward, biting your bottom lip, pressing your chest against his. “Want me to fuck your mouth, pretty?” your tone echoes the urgency of his request. 

His lips trail down your ear and across your neck. Suddenly your legs are wrapped around his torso. “Oh, and even more,” he tells you. “I want you to cream on my mouth so much that you’ll never find any other to please you just as good.”

“Then why am I not in your bed yet?” It comes out more desperate than it should. Without realising your fingers have unfastened at least two of his shirt buttons, and now they seem to cling onto his collar for dear life. 

Something flares in him; powerful, primal, which he hasn’t been aware he’s had before, sliding a hand under your hips and picking you up before slamming his lips against yours. The kiss is deep, all tongue. You return it with closed eyes and a breathy moan that pulls Sanji in a frenzied daze. Hands curled at his nape, you lose yourself in the taste of nicotine and pomegranates as you let him carry you past dim lit walls and into the bedroom. He doesn’t bother to turn on the lights. When he hurls you in bed, it’s with a deliberate movement, careful not to bruise you in any way but not the less forceful altogether. 

Then you take care of the rest of his buttons and belt, and he moves his focus to your pants, tugging them off while your mouths can’t gather the resolve to leave each other. Your fingers rake themselves through his hair. Smoothing the skin under your sweater, his hands stop to flatten around your breast. As Sanji presses his weight on you, it becomes impossible not to notice how fucking hard he is, greedy and throbbing against your soaked panties. He’s at his most unbridled tonight, and yet he touches you with the ritualistic devotion of a priest, mouthing syrup into your ear like lighting candles on an altar. The full moon spills in her light through the window, blue and delicate, and for a moment there you are sure Sanji’s contours have caught a prismatic glow, colourful flashes whirling in your vision, wavering around him like some sort of aura. 

After he breaks away, you are still tied together by a thin thread of saliva. He pushes your panties aside, and your back arches when he slides a digit, and then a second one, into your slit. There’s lust in his eyes, the kind you’ve never seen on him before, drinking in the sweet faces you make while his fingers press in and out of you in circling motions, rubbing your clit just so sweetly as he does. 

“Look how wet you are, dearest,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. “Always such a lovely mess for me.”

“I want you, Sanji,” you say, aware that you cannot hide the way he makes you feel by looking at him alone. 

It’s you, Sanji.

Your voice echoes in his heart like water dripping in a cave, let it melt inside him with something close to relief. He wants to thank you; and yet he cannot tell exactly what for. What he does instead is pull you into another kiss, less vicious and more affectionate, keeping you close with a hand flattened on your nape. 

The more you kiss him the brighter the room looks. Spectral rainbow fading behind his form. 

“Could you shift your hips for me?” Sanji eventually suggests. “Let me taste you, honey.”

It doesn’t take long to figure out what he means by that. Like a thing of habit, you let Sanji take your spot on the bed, then climb your way onto his face. You take yourself a moment before starting to move, but all wariness disappears the moment he drags a flat tongue across your slit. His voice vibrates into your core as your taste has him mumbling seared praises against your folds. Further you drop yourself on his mouth, and more he laps at your pussy, wet and desperate, coaxing you those sounds that fill the room and blend in with the moonlight. 

Sanji’s tongue has always managed to make you shiver. But this time is different, because you can feel everything; nose and beard and lips, drenched in your slick, white-hot as they rub themselves against your favourite spots. You can feel it when his eyes close and open, taking his time to savour the moment, and when he lets out a pleasured sigh to let you know how grateful he is to be allowed the luxury of tasting you, there is a delirious sensation rushing from your heat and climbing to your back like an electrical shock. It makes you thrust your hips harder against his mouth, call out his name with the urgent solemnity you didn’t know your voice could be able to reproduce. 

Looking at the way Sanji’s lower body tries to helplessly grind against nothing, cock straining in the confines of his boxers, bulging and stained with precum, you come to realise he must be feeling the same as you do. Oh, but Sanji revels in seeing how sweet you can be for him, and how good he can make you feel when he eats you out. He doesn’t mind the pain as long as he gets to lick you off his chin after he’s done. Never someone to dismiss your pleasure over his own. And yet. 

As his mouth diligently works on the heat that is now building in your stomach, and your movements pick up in pace to reach the high, you cannot help not to stare at his cock, thrusting the air to catch up with your rhythm. Hands running a touch across his stomach, you lick your lips. Sanji moans into you when you lean down to tug at his boxers. 

“Angel, what—” you hear him saying. 

Not allowing him the time to protest, you press yourself onto his face. “I’m so close, please,” you inform him, in a voice you don’t recognise. “Please don’t stop.”

So he doesn’t, running his tongue around your clit, not letting a single drop go to waste. You’re almost there. 

“Good goddess, fuck,” he huffs, feeling your hands on his balls, and shortly after your mouth kissing him at the tip. 

He comes that instant; let heat shoot in your mouth and down your throat as you wrap your lips around him, swallowing and licking off everything you can. There is something wrecked in his voice as he’s taken through his crescendo, something like a prayer sent to an all-mighty, and even then he continues to kiss your folds and drag his tongue across you until you come to climb a peak of your own. With Sanji’s taste lingering on the roof of your mouth, tears begin to well up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you call for him, over and over again, enveloped in pleasures you never thought that existed. 

Only when you’re brought back, a panting mess, you realise Sanji remained just as hard as you left him—something only that weird sex drink could’ve made it happen. You take the opportunity to lift your hips from his mouth and better adjust yourself at his crotch; he starts shifting awkwardly the moment you do. 

“There’s no need to, really.” Sanji is hesitant as he looks down at you, lips red and goatee still soaked with your slick. 

“But I want my meal,” you say, already licking at the tip. “It’s only fair you let me have one too.”

He’s having a hard time saying no to you; but how can he, when you talk with that voice, and when you look at him with those pleading eyes that reflect the gates to Heaven and more? Your mouth takes a little more of him, hot tongue trailing up and down his cock, and his eyes roll back into his head in visible defeat. 

Sanji runs his fingers through your hair. His tone takes to yearning, “So my precious darling is hungry, huh? Cute and silly for my cock?”

“Mhm,” bottom lip rolling up, wetly.

Half smug, half dazed. “Then it’d be cruel of me not to keep you fed.” 

Deeper you push your mouth around him, until he’s twitching in your throat and you start to gag. Sanji’s thumb finds your cheek—please don’t do anything you don’t want to. But you wouldn’t stop. You cannot stop. Not when you get to hear the whimpers he makes as your lips press around the skin ever so slightly, when you look up at his heaving chest, his parted lips, pushing out a broken exhale, the eyes that now flood with wavering reflections of the moonlight and tears threatening to wet his lashes. 

“Oh, my angel.” It’s coarse, struggling for air. His eyes shut close. “My sun, my everything. Yeah, like that. So fucking good.”

Hands coated in spit, you reach to give his balls a gentle squeeze, continue to fill your throat. Once praises have started to spill from Sanji’s mouth, they don’t stop, and they touch a point at which the words feel like no more than babbling, trashed and incoherent, with his hair blown in both of his eyes. His hand sometimes runs to his forehead, other times he uses it to caress your face and pet your hair, but no matter what Sanji stays loud in letting you know how good whatever you’re doing to him feels.

The moment he sets both of his hands on your head, you know it’s because he’s getting close. With a fearful thrust of his cock into your mouth a growl leaves him, and soon after his second release spills down your throat, warm, somehow sweet. You swallow; his chest expands and contracts in attempt to catch his breath. 

Specks of light dash off Sanji’s lips. Pulling you at his level, he clashes them against yours into yet another kiss, sloppy and greedy as he runs his hand down your curves, sinks his fingers into your skin. The touch sears everywhere it reaches; and you cannot do anything but melt in his arms, let yourself be moulded by this growing need that somehow can never quite satiate you. 

“Hope you don’t think you won’t be rewarded for that,” Sanji breathes into your mouth. 

Your lips rolling to his jaw, you say, “Hope you don’t think I’ve had enough of you.”

“I’m here for you to take,” with a quivering hand Sanji squeezes your pussy. “Will always be.”

His fingers send a delightful shock throughout your body. Something close to a moan tears from your throat. “You're such a whore for me, Sanji.” 

“Can you blame me?” Sanji rubs his tip against your inner thigh. “Darling, please look at yourself.”

“For the love of god—” wet and breathless against his ear. “Don’t make me wait any longer.” 

Your impatience endears him, has his heart beating so much faster than it already does. Still he starts slowly, pushing you onto the pillows, taking his time to relish your expression as he lifts your legs and lovingly sets them atop his shoulders. Sanji almost laughs at himself, because even under the influence of this potion that brings out anything wild and viscerally troublesome he has in him, nothing delights him more than getting to unravel you with the same care one deseeds a pomegranate in the kitchen. 

Placing a kiss on your calf, he croons, “Say, sweetheart, what about you? Who do you crave for just so?” 

Not wasting a beat, “You, Sanji.” It’s you. 

He could get off by these words alone. 

“And what do you want from me?” he starts to coat himself in your slick, pressing the tip on your clit every now and then. “Do you want me to fuck you, maybe? Fill you up and call you beautiful?”

You can only nod, legs coiling around his neck in anticipation. “Yeah, yeah. Please fuck me.”

Then you can feel him burying himself into you, and it rips a sound from your mouth as soon as he does. Your hips lift to increase the friction. You accommodate him easily, trembling under him and through the persistent knot in your stomach that has you wanting for more. 

When he bottoms out, his voice is low, hypnotic. “Like this?”

“Like this,” you echo, drowning yourself in the wild glimmer flaring in his eyes.

Fingers dug into your legs, his temples sweaty, Sanji pulls out, then drops himself back in, each motion steadier than the other. Wet sounds fill the sheets as your bodies coil and flatten together like nothing matters in this world but you and this moment and the moon capturing your contours in ethereal glow. Nothing, no one. Sanji speeds his hips, chest flushed and sweltering. Usually you’re not as permissive with your sounds as he is, but tonight they seem to just pour themselves out of your mouth, every sigh and moan and whimper, sugar waterfalls thickening the air as Sanji moves you into each thrust. 

“Ah,” you hear him say, a man aflame. “Refresh my memory, would you, angel? Who did you want to fuck again?”

Through an exhale, “You—” a pause. “Only you.”

“You feel so good,” he whines, collapses with a slapping sound. “So sweet, so perfect for me.”

Blue and pink and yellow; just as vivid when you close your eyes. He goes in deep, deeper, and your thighs are shivering against his torso. 

“Yeah? You like that?” legs tightening their grip around him. “Like it when I take you good and confess?”

“More than that,” Sanji is breathless. “Makes me insane. You’re making me go insane.”

You wouldn’t admit it, but you know how it feels. To have your sanity run scarce by a voice telling you how faultless you are, that no matter how you see yourself you will always be a cosmos in someone else’s eyes. If anything, you should know this better than anyone else, the maddening feeling of being fed honey and sugar glaze as your thoughts are pressed against body heat. Lost in his trance Sanji picks up the pace, and there’s a wet, debauched mewl that overrides even the careless crash of your skins. 

Lip caught under your teeth, “Want to, mh—wanna hear another confession, baby?” 

“What’s on your mind, my sweet?” Sanji’s lips ghost over your calf. 

“Think I—” with a thrust your eyes are hurled to the ceiling. “Fuck, I think I love you.”

Vulnerable. 

Suddenly his chest drops against yours, a chance for your legs to flatten across his back, pulling him the closest you can. His fingers interlace with yours as he sinks into the crook of your neck. 

Reckless. 

The pace doesn’t slow down, but you can very well tell it’s become sloppier than before. A lost rhythm. When you look at him again, you are quick to notice the dampness pushing at the corners of his eyes. 

“I love you too,” glad to finally word it this way. “I love you so much.” 

Then he continues to rut into you, shaky voice fogging your neck the moment your nails pierce into his back. Your hips thrust themselves up, desperate for tandem. Heat erupts inside you. Another peak you’re yearning to chase. 

“‘m gonna come, ‘m gonna come,” you tell him, cheek brushing over his hair. 

“Let go, my dear,” in a frail tone. “Let me hear you.”

With a squeeze of your hand Sanji fucks you the way you need him to—viciously. 

He could try. He could at least try to make you fall so hard for him that you will keep your words even after the spell wears off. 

You pull at his hair, mean and senseless as a sudden burst of pleasure tears through you. Your lips move without being able to hear the words. There must’ve been something you said, though, you’re sure there was, because Sanji’s soon chasing after, hung on a mournful vowel, flooding you through his end. 

The moon soaks into your bodies.

iv. 

Sanji wakes up with tinnitus. He blinks, once, twice, waiting for the specks of colour before his eyes to rearrange into furniture. The next thing he recognises is your breathing, small and lukewarm on his chest. Instinctively his arms wrap themselves around you, and there’s a long exhale when they do. You’re naked, both of you. His head becomes heavy with flashes of last night, lips pressed together, bending sternum, and soon they are replaced with the sound of a name he thought he couldn’t remember. Sentiments he thought he discarded. 

He thought he would lose you. 

But you are still here. 

Before knowing it, his arms are shaking, and like he’s done many times when he finds it impossible to contain himself, he covers his eyes with an elbow. 

He starts crying. 

Muffled, subtle, more worried about waking you up than about having to figure out an excuse for his tears. Droplets roll off his cheeks and onto his collarbone. His chest jerks up and down in a pathetic staccato. He wishes he were someone with more control over his emotions, sometimes, during moments like this. But he isn’t, and he cannot change, just like he cannot be many other things. 

A soft rustle beneath the sheets. Arms squeezing his torso. 

“Sanji, hey.” The words come out rasp, still filled with sleep. When he doesn’t answer, there’s a thumb wiping across his cheek. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I’m sorry,” is all he can manage. 

Warmly, concerned. “Sorry for what?”

“I’m sorry,” he hiccups again. “I’m so sorry.”

Because he doubted you. Because he cannot fucking stop doubting himself. Heaven knows he’d tell you all these things, were he a braver man. Instead there’s only one thing that seems to be coming out of him, a broken record.

“I’m sorry.”

You wouldn’t want to pressure him. Without saying anything else you keep Sanji in your arms, squeeze him tighter as his tears blend with your hair and your fingers move to soothe his frantic shoulders. Salt pours on his bottom lip. Sanji accepts the comfort despite his better judgement, burying his face into your neck, trying to focus on the sound of your breathing. You stay like this for a while. 

There are so many things he’d want to tell you; the kind of things that eat through his guts and tear him apart. Silly images of him taking you to the Baratie, teaching you the way around potions, topping your hand as you sign your name in blood and knowledge, are you to feel rebellious enough. 

And he will, one day; talk to you about everything he’s ever seen and touched. Now, however, he closes his eyes and hopes you will somehow catch a flicker of all the love he has in him; everything that makes him foolish. 

by far the longest thing i've written in years & it's a boring au. now excuse me but i need to go lie down for a while.

[chalkscene]

tears of themis ⇢ WOULD YOU KISS ME FOR $10 OR THE PRETTIEST GIRL IN THE WORLD FOR $700?

ft. luke pearce, artem wing, marius von hagen & vyn richter

“i have a question,” you tell LUKE. he’s sat on the couch, playing some new video game which he immediately pauses to acknowledge you. “okay, shoot.” “would you kiss the prettiest girl in the world for 700 dollars or me for only 10 dollars?” before luke can school his features, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips as memories from your childhood flash in his mind. ever since you were kids, you’ve always had the most random trivia and inquiries ready to share with him—his heart swells at the thought of you not having changed at all. going back to your question, luke normally would’ve been deep in thought searching for an answer but he’s always had it in him. so with loving eyes, he meets your expectant ones. “you know i’d kiss you for free.”

ARTEM looks up from his paperwork, paying you his undivided attention now. “come again?” you’re halfway through repeating the question when he cuts you off with a chuckle, “i heard you the first time.” you know he’s just too nice to dismiss you but if you spend another minute thinking about your case, you’re going to lose your mind. “so, what’s your answer?” “i’d kiss you,” he replies without skipping a beat and his lips curl into a smile. you mirror his expression before glancing at the door then back at your boyfriend. “can you kiss me now?” you pout, “i need motivation.” artem shakes his head at your antics but he adores them. he gets up from his seat en route to your side of the office, leaning in to grant your request when celestine barges into the room, “artem- oh.” artem immediately straightens up and clears his throat as he takes a step back from your desk, “yes?” whatever celestine’s come to see him for is soon forgotten, clearly enjoying the sight she walked into. the whole firm knows about your relationship with artem so you remain unfazed—unlike stellis’ notable lawyer whose cheeks are blushing furiously, unable to meet your colleague in the eye.

“missed your pretty face,” MARIUS says in greeting the moment you open the door. half an hour ago, he called to let you know he was on his way to your apartment. now here he is, leaning in for a kiss which is immediately followed by a sigh of pleasure at the feeling of your mouth on his. “you say that as if i’m not your lockscreen,” you tease when you pull away. “i can’t kiss my phone though.” he winks then dips his head lower for another peck but you stop him with a finger over his lips. marius’ eye brows shoot up in surprise, coaxing a giggle out of you. with a cheeky smile, you ask, “would you kiss me for 10 dollars or the prettiest girl in the world for 700 dollars?” “what kinda question is that?” he scoffs and rolls his eyes at its absurdity before his familiar cockiness once again takes over his features. “miss, i’d pay to kiss you.”

“is something on your mind?” VYN’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts—well, thought. you’ve had this random question plaguing your brain for a while now. “what is it?” vyn asks again. “well…” you begin, trying to form the words before you utter them, “i was curious…” “go on.” “would you kiss me for 10 dollars or the prettiest girl in the world for 700 dollars?” vyn doesn’t respond right away, blinking at you as he is momentarily dumbfounded. but it’s not long before you sense the gears in his mind turning. you’re not sure if it’s due to the nature of his job as a psychiatrist but vyn is never not thinking—you truly believe he’s actually taking the question seriously. soon enough, he gives you his answer. “my rose,” he says as he tenderly takes your hand in his, “your kisses are priceless.”

[knightyoomyoui]

Heartbreak On Air

ft. Kim Sejeong (x Male Reader)

TYPE: Angst

WORD COUNT: 2618

NOTE: Finally got to create a one-shot featuring one of my favorite Korean actresses and definitely one of the most gorgeous I've ever seen. I kid you not, I have a huge crush on her lol. However, nobody is safe with my love for angsty stuff.

DONATE OR REQUEST FOR COMMISSION HERE: https://ko-fi.com/knightyoomyoui

DESCRIPTION: YN, a lonely but determined man, calls into a popular late-night talk radio show, to share a story about the biggest regret of his life—breaking up with his ex-girlfriend years ago. ===OOO=== People say that time will help you move on from a devastating break-up, but it was all lie.

Instead, it brings you the opposite. It just makes things harder for you to let go.

Especially if that girl you still keep your heart linked for truly had you believing that she’s the most perfect woman you’ve ever had the golden luck to once claim as yours.

Until this day, you remained to be a lonely man who is still holding on for girlfriend who is now your ex after an unforgettable 3 years of relationship. You didn’t want it to happen, which is the reason why its still hard for you to forget it. However, there’s also another thing that keeps you uncomfortable every night when you suddenly think of her.

You’re aware to yourself to you are the cause of each other’s downfall. Back then, you didn’t admit it because of something that pulls you back. Although the consequences was that she had to watch you disappear and leave her with many questions she may be wondering at that time.

Regret eats you alive, and it disturbs you. That’s why if only an opportunity will be given to you someday, you’ll use it for one particular purpose: and that is to apologize for what you’ve done. For the peace of both worlds that once shared but has now gone apart.

That is until one day, when you were on your way home riding a taxi, the driver was playing this channel on the radio where it tells a random story from an anonymous person. You suspected that this is probably the main point of the show. As you gave it a listen, you also found it even more investing not only because of that person’s story… but also to the voice of the DJ narrating.

It almost sounded like… her. 

You shook it off, not wanting to let the delusions get onto you. Yet you couldn’t blame it for happening, everything reminds you of her. You’re the one who still deeply attached for Sejeong.

The story wasn’t finished yet and you’ve reached the destination. Before you were dropped off, you asked for confirmation to the taxi driver what’s the radio channel he’s tuned in. He answered and gave it a little extra information that its currently popular which made you thanked him before leaving.

He didn’t bothered asking more, but if he did then your response would probably be only that you wanted to listen more to this show. But no, there’s more to that. Realizing that it grants people the freedom to tell their unspoken stories to others, an idea was formulated in his mind.

Meanwhile, a week later, Sejeong who has been doing great these days notably due to the new installment of her own radio program called “Confessions Beyond The Nightsky” after a friend encourages her to be a DJ. She always wanted to try using her voice more not only through singing when she came up with an idea from her friend on how she’ll do that.

That is to become the voice of the voiceless for people who had something to say deep within them but unable to do so because of hesitations in their emotions.

“Thank you again to our second sender for getting in touch to our program! Again, I wish you all the best to your decisions in the future and if you know to yourself that it’s the right thing to do, then go ahead for it..” Sejeong now in her alias known as DJ Sam for work, said on the mic as she refolded the paper she was reading.

“Many people would probably gonna be so related to what Danica said in her letter, especially on being the breadwinner of the family.” She added with a tint of sympathy in her face. “Okay and now for our last sender to this week’s episode, let’s take a look beneath its story!”

She grabbed the envelope that was given to her by the manager. She unwrapped it and revealed its content. “So this one is coming from a guy named (your other name). I hope you are currently listening to me right now YNN because yours is up next to be told by yours truly. Let’s begin with our last story.”

“Dear, DJ Sam. You can just call me by the name of YNN, that’s the name my ex-girlfriend loves to call me.”

Sejeong paused for a moment. A strange familiar feeling crept up inside of her. His image emerged in his mind brought by the suspicious message. 

“I just want to share a little bit about us first. I’ll just gonna call her “Sesang”  h-”

Sejeong felt like her heart dropped after pronouncing that name. This wasn’t just a normal coincidence anymore. Her speculations were right, this was indeed coming from the only person… the only man she is thinking of.

“Sam, is anything okay?” The manager asked her dumbfounded state. She gulped and nodded. “I’m fine. I just… remember someone.”

“Okay, sorry listeners if I stopped for a moment.” She said, shifting back to bring a professional despite trying to conceal herself from getting exposed. “To continue, he mentioned that her name is going to be Sesang in his story. Sesang and I had a relationship that lasted for 3 years.”

It came from him. She confirmed it in her thoughts. She forced her emotions not to burst out with just a reminder of you.

“She was my first and definitely I could tell the best I’ve ever had. Setting aside the thoughts of me looking for somebody else or not, but I just have this confidence of mine that I could never find another woman who as perfect as her.” She continued, a bittersweet smile formed on her lips.

“Our relationship was something I would cherish for the rest of my life. It was unforgettable, a once in a lifetime moment of mine, and definitely because I got to spend those times with her. I still couldn’t believe these days that I got to make her fall in love with me too. 

Knowing how much of an average guy I am before while she is the center of attention by most of the guys back then in our campus because of how breathtakingly beautiful she is. Maybe her being conservative of me and I just doing what I always do that separates me from the rest was probably the reason why we ended up together.

Our relationship was nothing more of a rollercoaster ride. We had a lot of ups and downs, we did struggled during the early period when we get to convince both sides of our families to accept each other which fortunately I did. I was so happy, because all I ever wanted is to officially call her mine without any limitations.

I was proud to have her as my girlfriend and so did she, that’s why I know she must be highly disappointed of me when the end of us didn’t went the same as how we started.” 

Sejeong sighed for a second, she already expected that this is about to get heavy the longer it gets. “Yes, I blame myself. I am well-aware that I was the cause of our separation. Back then I became insecure, I was depressed, and I was scared. All of that whenever I just remember her, and knowing how my family went rock bottom when my dad got scammed abroad by his relatives of moving to another country for a better job opportunity.”

Sejeong started to furrow her eyebrows as she became more focused on what you have been mentioning in the letter. She didn’t know any of this and narrating your story would be the only way to reach the answers she was begging for a long time.

“Financially and emotionally, my family was torn apart because of what happened. My dad became very stressful and desperate to rebuild all of what he spent to provide for us that it affected his mindset and his personality. It caused him and my mom to argue, I tried to to be the bridge to get them back together but instead it just grew worse to the point they weren’t communicating with one another anymore. 

That’s why most of the responsibilities of attending to every concern regarding about us not only in the house but through stuff like my brother’s studies, I catched them all. It affected me as well that I had to abandon my dreams and look for a job to contribute since my dad’s salary wasn’t enough anymore. All of the burden started to get onto me, that I slowly changing from the type of person that Sesang used to love me for.”

“She did noticed that, I know she was.” Sejeong recalled the times she had to witness him suddenly acting cold, short-tempered, and unable to be present at times when she needed him, painfully agreeing to what you’ve said. The following lines referred to what she had thought, which confirmed it further.

“I tried to mask it whenever I’m close or I’m facing her but I just can’t. The responsibilities I’m carrying is too heavy for me to withstand. Which is why I thought that if I have to let go one important thing, maybe it’ll do for the better and it’ll won’t continue to affect us any longer.

“I didn’t want to… but I chose to let her go.” Sejeong squeezed her eyes shut to fight her tears. Her heart clenching as she seethes how those words sting. “My family needed me more. I know she does but… I just can’t keep on bringing her more to my problems. I can’t let myself be with her, making her believe that she’s spending time with the same guy that she loved from the beginning.

“I know I’ve gone different. I tried to fight it but it’s too exhausting that I just wanted for us to be free.” Sejeong’s hands trembling as she grips the paper. “I was the one who ended our relationship, and here comes the biggest mistake that I regret within this day, DJ Sam. 

I refused to tell her why. I told her nothing. I just left her there, probably wondering if she was the problem instead. I just said that it’s for the better and I just couldn’t do this anymore.”

That memory was still fresh for Sejeong as well. Standing in front of their house, watching you walk away wiping the tears on your eyes, desperately calling for your name to come back but you never did.

“I disappeared for 2 years. My family returned to the province and we got assisted there by my mom’s relatives. Fortunately, our life slowly went better and it eased me for doing a lot to them. I just hope that my happiness for my family was just as same as I am for me and Sesang. The cost of my decision was that it led me to sleepless nights, regretting my actions of cutting ties with her like it was nothing.

That’s why Sesang, if you’re out there, listening right now to DJ Sam’s show as she read this letter of mine for you, I want you to know I thank you for everything that we had and despite our breakup, I never stopped loving you.”

Sejeong curses under her breath. This is getting too much of a struggle of her to endure this amount of gut wrenching moment for the sake of her job and to not get embarrassed at the public. It was just handwritten sentence, but imagining him and his voice speaking it out loud for her and for the whole world to listen how much he regrets leaving her and that he still has her in his heart, she can’t deny that it touched her a lot.

She smiled through the pain and admired your final paragraph. “I should’ve fought for us. I’m sorry if you had to be the one I have to sacrifice for. I don’t know if what I did is right, but trust me when I tell you that you doing fine these days, probably together with somebody who won’t break your heart and value your love unlike me is what I wish for you to be.

But if you ever want to talk, I’ll be here waiting and I won’t ever go again. With love, YNN.”

Sejeong breathed deeply before closing the letter and smiled bitterly. “Wow. That was… pretty tragic.” She chuckled and wiped her tears. “You guys may not see me right now but I’m literally tearing up, I know some of you may be as well.” She faked her own surge of emotions to fool everybody.

“Well uhm, thank you YNN for that wonderful yet heartbreaking letter.” Sejeong cleared her throat and reached for some tissue that was handed to her by her manager. “You made some of us emotional here in the studio so great job, I suppose.”

“Anyways, here’s what I could say to your story, YNN. I know you’re listening right now just as she is too. You don’t have to wait anymore because I’m sure she has heard your words of longing and sorrow. 

And if I would be the one in place of her, I’d say that I forgive you.” She smiled within her teary eyes. She looked at her manager and some of the staffs monitoring her, she lowered her herself as she leans at the decision she had to do. 

To end both ends’ unresolved conflict for good.

"YNN… or should I say, YN… you have no idea how many nights I stayed up, wondering why you left. I thought maybe I wasn’t enough, maybe I did something wrong. But hearing you now…" She pauses, collecting herself. 

"I realized you weren’t trying to hurt me. That you gave up on me and abandon me like all we had was nothing. You were trying to protect me in the only way you knew how. But the thing is… I never needed protecting from you. I just needed you just as how I much I am willing to be there for you.”

A shaky exhale comes through the mic. "I won’t lie—hearing this now, after all these years, it’s a lot to sink in. Part of me wants to be angry, to tell you that you should’ve trusted me, that we could’ve faced everything together if you had just let me in. But another part of me… another part is just relieved to finally hear the truth.”

She hesitates for a second, then says, "I don’t know what this means for us. I don’t know if we can go back to who we were. But if there’s one thing I do know, YN… it’s that I hear you. And after all these years, I think it’s time we finally talk… maybe in that way, it can pull us back together just like the old times.”

Then, after a long pause, she adds with a hint of warmth in her voice. “Now for your letter, here’s a song that we would like to dedicate for you.” One of the crew in charge of the sound system then played “Talking To The Moon” by Bruno Mars.

As the songs ends, Sejeong steadied herself as the silence lingers between them. When she finally speaks, her voice is softer than usual, a mix of vulnerability and quiet strength. 

“And that’s the final story for this week’s episode of Confessions Beyond The Nightsky, thank you everyone again for listening! This has been your DJ Sam…. now going off air!”

===OOO===

[justasecretflower]

“So feminine with grace” homicipher men ft mitsuri reader!

synopsis- you end up in homciphers world, they don't really see people like you in here.. how would they react to you?

Cw- kinda suggestive if you squint, mentions of killing and stuff. If any of this above is not fitted for you please click off your mental health is important <3

A/N- hello ˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶ !! it was hard finding a song for this lol but ty for the request !!

Now Playing:

Doja cat - woman

0:01 ❍─────── 4:28

↻ ⊲ Ⅱ ⊳ ↺

Volume: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100%

🖤mr. Crawling

🖤'baddie gf and some random loser bf' that's you guys

🖤closested pervert. Got all excited seeing ur clothes, his face lit up and he was all over you, his hands climbing up you as he yelled ‘pretty! Pretty!’

🖤he hasn’t really ever encountered someone as brightly colored as you. Loves touching your hair and braiding it and stuff.

🖤he’s attracted to how gracefully you fight, absolutely in a trance looking like a puppy with his eyes wide and sparkling while he almost drools

🖤your appetite is another thing he finds adorable. He likes to collect food and stuff and feed it to you

🖤definitely overprotective of you

🖤he likes to gently bop your little beauty marks

🖤LOOOVES your affectionate nature. He cuddles up to you all the time. You make him so happy:).

❤️Mr. Scarletta

❤️curious about you. How can something so beautiful and gentle looking be so dangerous?

❤️fuels him to be even more obsessed with you. How graceful and powerful you were, the perfect balance between kindness and danger.

❤️holy stalker. He memorizes every food you like and puts it where you frequently go. Like an offering of some sorts

❤️he likes that your hair is unusual like his, so bright like his, but so soft, like the look of your hair is almost comforting in a way. Something so brightly unique and pretty in a place like that.

❤️pays no mind do what you wear. He knows you and him both can fight, so what does it matter?

❤️he does like how the clothing fits you though.

❤️since you’re so beautiful. He often feels like he should scare everybody off to know that you’re his.

❤️he thinks you two make a very good couple. Powerful, two polar opposites yet the same in one crucial way.

❤️gives you a pink umbrella :P

🩶Mr. Silvair/ silver hair

🩶so so so curious about you! Is your hair natural? Are your beauty marks a birth defect ? How many rice ball thingys did you have to eat to get that hair color? Will it fade? Will your kids have the same hair color ?

🩶 shall he test out the last question?

🩶he has an itch only experimenting on you can scratch, but he never does harmful experiments because yk, he doesn’t want to hurt you.

🩶I will always say this in my homicipher headcanons but Mr. Silvair is EAGER to have kids with you just to see what it’d be like to have half ghost half human kids, now he’s even more eager because of your hair and unusual features

🩶(of course he will always be a good dad no matter what even if he did have a kid for experimental purposes)

🩶honestly a little concerned with the amount of food you eat. But no the less he says nothing about it since he wants to be a good boyfriend!

🩶questions if your strength relates to your unusual hair and things like that.

🧡mr. chopped

🧡feels so incredibly undeserving of you. You're insanely good looking, talented, unique, smart, kind, and strong and he's just like.. a head?

🧡knows how the other homicipher men look at you and he hates it. He hates it when they recognize how graceful, strong and beautiful you are. He's super insecure, that's why hes so whiny all the time.

🧡thankfully to your affectionate personality it helps soothe him a lot. He likes nothing more than just being in your arms with you holding him and comforting him. He just relaxes, you can't feel his body ease up, But you feel how slowly his eyes shut and how light he suddenly seems

🧡he loves how your braids kinda match lol

🧡when you do your hair, you also do his, he lets you re braid it and even make it like yours!

🧡he loves how sweet you are and how you feed into his compliment fishing. Don't tell me he doesn't compliment fish lmao.

🤎mr. hood

🤎I love my man boom shakalakaaaaa

🤎the first time he saw you he was literally frozen. If he had eyes, or, if we could see them, they'd be the most sparkly, light, in love, puppy dog eyes ever.

🤎he's so obsessed with you, tell me otherwise rn.

🤎he likes to feel your hair. How soft and colorful it is in his void black hands.

🤎when he saw your outfit he at first just thought the top like didn't fit..

🤎he would often try to pull your top together to see if it was supposed to be worn like that. You'd have to tell him it was a style choice, he kinda tilts his head for a bit and then shrugs it off. Oh well, your body looked divine that way anyway. Why not show it off?

🤎will never get tired of seeing your strength. He's such a male wife. 'Whatever you want my strong, beautiful wife who I love so dearly'

🤎tries to get you all the foods that you enjoy a lot and helps clean up your clothes once he sees how much of a tedious task that is.

🤎he gets flustered!! you can't see it but trust me he freezes up once you cuddle all over him or nuzzle against him. He loves it so much he's just so new to it he doesn't know how to cope with it. Eventually puts a hand casually around you after some time.

🎐𓍼ֶָ֢⊹ ࣪ ˖Tags

[resident-idiot-simp]

The Avengers reactions when they realize that Bucky and Steve our friends with Logan (and Wade because You can't have one without the other)

Ft: @orcadork4ever

Or another option they're hanging out with Laura in the Avengers are very confused because who is that child?

Clint walking into the tower

"Guys Bucky and Steve are hanging out with some kid in the park. I am confused because they act like they know this kid. Have any of you seen them with a kid?"

Tony: no??? How would they know just a random kid?

Clint: That's what I'm asking!?

However long later until Bucky and Steve come back

The other Avengers sitting and waiting for them: So who was that kid?

Steve and Bucky:??? What are you talking about

Clint: I saw you hanging out with a kid in the park.

Bucky: OH you mean Laura.

Tony: Laura???

Steve: Yeah Laura she's an old friends kid

Natasha: You two have friends?

Od: Bucky: She’s Peter’s friend and just so happens to be out friends’ kid

Tony: Wait Peter knows her?!

Steve and Bucky: yes? Did you guys not know about her?

Avengers: NO!

Steve: ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ I don't know what to tell you Laura's great

Bucky: She's hysterical she's just like her father... For better or worse... Usually worse

Steve: usually worse

Bruce: Wait so who is her father?

Bucky: Logan

Avengers: ?????

Steve: You guys know Logan

Clint:... Are you sure about that?

Steve: Yes I'm confident he's Logan

Bucky: laughs yeah that's about right

Tony: okay I give up who exactly is Logan since apparently we know him

Steve and Bucky: Wolverine

Avengers: ?!

Bucky and Steve: It's not that big of a deal

Tony: It is though!

Clint:... Wait If you know Wolverine....

Natasha:......do you know...

Steve: sigh He's not actually that bad

Clint and Natasha: Yes he is

Bucky: Really he's not. If you just talk to him long enough without being actively hostile

Bruce: backup who are you talking about

Od:

Bucky: Wilson. Wade Wilson.

Steve: Wade’s an acquired taste.

Bruce: Okaaaay. But what’s his other name.

Steve: sigh ….. Deadpool

Tony: HOW THE HELL DOES KNOWING WOLVERINE RELATE TO KNOWING DEADPOOL??

Bucky: Well, they’re married. That’s the wedding up in Westchester we went to last fall.

Me:

Tony horrified: THEY'RE MARRIED?!

Steve: to be honest they were made for one another

Bucky: They really were. You should see them together it's.... I don't think there's a better match

Natasha: I still have a hard time believing it

Clint: Yeah I mean considering Deadpool is.... Deadpool

Steve: If you've seen them together you'd understand. I don't think I've seen two people more in love.

Tony: You're joking right This is a joke where are the cameras we're being filmed right like haha.

Natasha and Clint: no he's not joking This is common knowledge in the underground

Bruce: What do you mean this is common knowledge?

Clint: Everyone has a story of seeing them with a tongue down the others throat or something.

Natasha: or you know someone who's seen it.

Clint: Or that

Bruce:....have you seen it

Clint: I haven't

Natasha: I definitely have. Was scoping out someone that they had a hit on. I never want to see that again

Tony:.. I hate this can we go back to before I knew this

Steve: hahaha it's funny that opinion comes from all angles Laura also hates it

Bucky: why might should clarify that. She hates She's subjected to it as much as she is.

Steve: oh no yeah she, Vanessa, and Althea are all very happy for them. It's just since she has his mutation they can't really hide stuff.

Bucky: shutters imagine having to go to that mansion of teenagers and being able to smell everything

Tony: I'm horrified about everything I've just learned

Od:

Bucky: Wade said that even if they air out the house for a full 48 hours she can still smell it. So they’ve compromised on designated areas where she just Doesn’t Go.

Peter: swinging in Hey everyone. What’s up?

Tony: WHY ARE YOU HANGING OUT WITH A MERCENARY?!

Pepper: Tony just found out about Laura, Logan, and Wade and is about to have a heart attack. Tony. Breathe. You’re fine. Peter’s fine.

Tony: HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?!

Peter: Um. I’m really okay, Mr. Stark. They’re really cool. So is everyone at Xavier’s.

Me:

Peter: oh I have a picture I took of them cuddling on the couch. Honestly they are I've of the healthiest couples I've seen. Shows Tony the picture

Tony:.... I'm dreaming this is a dream

Bruce:... Honestly that's not as surprising as I thought it would be to hear

Steve: Honestly yeah it's wild just how good they are to each other

Bucky: except for the stabbing

Steve: Honestly I'm not convinced that's unhealthy.

Bucky: Good point

Natasha and Clint sharing a look before speaking: You guys have no idea what they did to the underground when they got together

Bruce: oh?

Clint: It's like they've gotten better. Which is insane to say considering it's Deadpool and Wolverine

Natasha nodding: they're more efficient now. People just got up and left gave up completely at being a mercenary.

Od:

Peter: And they’re really good with the kids.

Bruce: I thought they only had Laura?

Peter: No, no, they do. But they kind of like half-adopt everyone? Like, the Professor built extra housing near the mansion for them and a lot of the students hang out there instead of the school because it’s quieter. I’m a kit as far as Logan’s concerned. Laura says I was one of the first people he decided was Pack.

Tony: Kit? Pack?

Peter: Oh! He and Laura are Ferals. Mutants who are more animalistic. I kind of fit into that category but not entirely since I’m a mutate.

Me:

Bruce:.... Ok I'll admit this is fascinating want to elaborate more. What does it entail exactly to be a feral

Peter smiling: Ok so there are a spectrum of them in two separate categories, pray and predators. It's pretty much what you expect each group has traits that are more predator like or more prey like.

Tony:... ok

Peter: Now This is a very small subsection of mutants about 5%. Of that only 1%-1.5% survive to adulthood.

Clint:... Okay I didn't know that's statistic what the hell?

Peter shrugging: They usually die when they're kids and first mutate. Normally the more extreme or higher on the spectrum the more likely they die. Specifically predators because of the fight or flight instinct.

Natasha: that makes sense kid with claws or teeth get corner cuz they have no idea what's happening?

Tony: It's like cornering a wild animal.

Peter: If they lash out and kill someone you think they care about taking their life considering they are a mutant?

Bruce slightly horrified: and if they ran off a kid that young can't survive by themselves

Peter: Exactly that's why most of them don't survive. Logan is an anomaly. If it wasn't for his healing factor he would have died when he was a child. He and thus Laura are pretty much the most extreme you can get on the predator side.

Tony: Wait pause what is Laura get lumped in there? Doesn't mutation not carry alone genes? Isn't it just randomized and luck of the draw if you're like your parents?

Steve and Bucky: She's a clone

Tony and Bruce: What?!

Peter: Yep just didn't end up quite right She's got three claws but the middle one of each hand is in her foot. Also she's a woman.

Steve: She really is his clone though down to her personality

Peter: Anyway ferals usually take on traits of a specific animal though there are some general things. Logan in general though really is a Wolverine. He growls, purrs, scents people and things, and has fangs to name a few things.

Natasha: It's a bit freaky

Od:

Peter: No more freaky than me walking on the ceiling and having Velcro hands

Natasha: Touché

Tony: Okay. Okay. deep breath Summing all of this up to make sure I’ve got this right. Cap and Buck served with Logan in World War II because he’s like 200 years old now. He’s also a feral mutant who has animalistic tendencies and claws that come out of his hands. Laura is a clone of him except her claws are two on each hand and one on each foot and she’s female. Logan is somehow married to THE most notorious and inappropriate mercenaries in the world who is “not that bad and is good with kids.” And they both think of you as part of their family.

Peter: nodding Yeah, pretty much~ Got it in one, Mr. Stark~

Pepper: calling out from the kitchen And Peter has been hanging out with them and the students at Xavier’s.

Peter: Yeah? Is… that a bad thing?

Pepper: No, sweetie. It’s great that you’re getting to talk with other mutants your age.

FRIDAY: Boss, your blood pressure and heart rate are elevated far above your usual values.

Tony: I’m well aware of that, FRI. shaking like a chihuahua

It won’t hit for him until he sees them interact and sees Wade with their shared kid

Tony: You better not be killing anyone around him.

Wade: He already asked me not to, don’t need you cock blocking me too Iron Dad

Me:

Tony:... Are you insinuating you get off on it

Wade: You do not want to know the list of things that get me and Peanut off

Tony: I hate you

Wade: Love you too

Tony is truly surprised though at how good Wade is with kids. He turns down his personality quite a bit to accommodate younger ears.

Wade had caught him steering dumbfoundedly and had just shrugged. "You know I always wanted kids"

Tony wouldn't have believed that before but he does now

Od:

Wade: My exie bestie Vanessa and I tried. But it didn’t work. And then I got El Super Cancer so that pretty much wiped out any chance there. And that was before the experimentation and torture. So… takes a drink They’re not mine by blood. But they’re mine, y’know?

Tony: nodding slowly, watching Peter across the room I think I do…

~~~~

(Addition because I fucked up posting this originally and you deserve more for that)

*Much later after they meet and someone asks a question about another feral existing (I'm not copy pasting anymore I'm so tired you have no idea it is almost 1:00)*

Bruce: okay what was the deal with asking about another feral mutant?

Peter:... I don't know the whole story and I hope I never hear it....but. Do you know who Sabertooth is?

Tony: The other big mutant with claws?

Peter: That's Logan's brother

Everyone out of the know: I'M SORRY?!

Steve:... Yeah Creed, depraved monster is what he is. Shit he said? The shit he did?

Bucky: I still shudder to remember that.

Bruce: What exactly did he do?

Bucky:.... He fuck...he was abusive to say the least.

Steve: abuse is a very nice word for whatever the hell that was.

Bucky: IS he's still alive

Peter: shutters

Tony: Okay so it was worse than abuse? And you guys saw it?

Bucky: They both served we only saw Victor once. It was... It was bad

Steve: He was physically abusive at the minimum and Logan just allowed it.

Clint: I have a hard time picturing that

Bucky: You have to remember that they've known each other for 200 years.

Clint: and in that time he still allows it?

Steve: You don't know the whole picture. I don't think any of us do except for maybe Wade. But it's more complicated than you're thinking.

Bucky: The physical abuse was negligible to literally everything else. I mean there's no good way to put it besides the fact that he was groomed by Victor since he was a child

Tony: holy shit that's disgusting! What the hell?! What the hell?! You mean like... You don't mean like that.. You don't right?

Steve: I mean... I don't think it ever went that far but.... The stuff he said to Logan?

Bucky: and Logan's reactions? Logan hated it he was horrified. But he just...let Victor say what he did with minimal backlash.

Steve: Victor's older than him. I'm pretty sure he helped raise him from what I've learned

Natasha:.... Jesus Christ

Clint: never mind fuck dude

Bucky: yeah the one time we saw them together we couldn't separate them. And trust me we tried

Steve: we really did but Victor is possessive. I wonder genuinely how he sees Logan.

Bucky: I fucking don't

Tony:... I hate everything I have learned. You should have left me in the dark actually.

Bruce: You're saying he still alive? Wade is allowing that?

Peter: I'm pretty sure if he pops back up he's not going to be able to take another breath

Od: Bucky: before he had Logan alone. Isolated. He wasn’t close with anyone. But now… now he’s got people in his corner. He shows his face again and I’ll help Wade rip his head off myself.

Peter: I have a sneaking suspicion It's the pack instinct that made Logan go along with it. It's some skewed sense of loyalty

Steve: I'm inclined to agree Logan was fully aware I know that and he hated every moment of it. I feel like you also have to remember that any person that got close to died of old age eventually. It's not like he had options

Bucky: Also didn't help that whoever he got close to miraculously died

Steve: and there's that sigh Logan never had a chance

Peter: He has one now though. He has a family now The core of which is as immortal as him

Clint: And as capable as him. Is it weird that I want to spar with them?

Peter: grinning Nah, it’s fun~ and it’s fun to watch them spar. Logan moves like it’s natural and Wade has this grace in how he fights. I’m surprised he was never a dancer and that he never took it up.

Bucky: snorts

Peter: You know somethin

Bucky: I know something

Peter: which one of them

Bucky: which one do you think

Peter:.... Wade

Bucky: yep

Peter:... There's more to that

Steve: Vanessa

Peter: OH! NO ACTUALLY THAT MAKES SENSE

Tony:????

Od: Tony: Do I want to know whatever you’re about to tell me whether I want to know it or not?

Peter: Vanessa was a stripper

Tony: slow blink

Natasha: OH her yeah shit he tore the underground apart that one time someone kidnapped her

Clint: Yeah she's on the don't touch list to this day because of that

Bruce: who exactly is she?

Steve: Wade's ex fiancé. Their best friends still. Hell I think Logan might like her more than Wade does

Bucky: how can you not love her? She's great.

Peter: Oh she's wonderful.

(This will probably become a fic)

Tag: @secretmarvelsideblog @amethyst-loves-bucky

[yoredoesmore]

Ya will get tired of me- Anyway. Do you know the scene from Marie Antoinette movie when she says 'a boy would be the son of France, but you Marie Thérèse shall be mine'. I've been in love with this. So here's the thing. How about reader x hoshina (I'm sorry, I'm just obsessed with him). Man idk how to describe it. How about Mina agrees to a mini tour for kids from kindergarten? (She probably wouldn't agree but we ignore that) Reader and Hoshina gives them a tour, they see how the weapons look from closer, with a safety distance ofc and etc. Then they go to the training room and they come across Hoshina team training? Like the kids are excited, the team like plays with them yk, Iharu and Izumo would bet (more like Iharu) who could do more push ups with kids on theirs back, overall every kid has a person who would give them attention. BUT. There a shy boy who stays behind. Reader sees it and ask him if he wants to see how strong she is, she asks about his name and she takes him and shows her special moves? Hoshina watches from afar how his team is having fun with theirs little fans and then he notices that reader is talking to a boy and he hears her saying 'the kids can have attention from others but you (kids name) shall receive mine' or smth like that? AND HE SEES THAT SHE'S GOOD WITH KIDS AND IT MAKES HIM FEEL WEIRD IN THE CHEST (they are dating) and he imagines how it would be with their kid? A pure fluff is all I want. 🥹💕

Special | Hoshina Soshiro

a/n: cherry you already have a special place in my heart, your requests are amazing! sorry this took so long, i'm sick ╥﹏╥ anyways, please never stop sending requests in <33

pairing: reader & little sosuke ft. Hoshina

summary: the third division hosts a tour for a small group of kindergarteners so that they can get special insight into the work of the defense force but one little kid seems to be in need of a little bit of extra attention and love.

genre: fluff/ angst/hurt & comfort

[wc: 2,7k]

another a/n: focus here is more on reader and the child than hoshina ^^

enjoy!

“A…tour? And not just any tour, a tour for little children..?” As expected, Captain Ashiro sounded more confused than convinced. Both you and Soshiro stood in front of her desk, eyes focused on your written request which she held in her hand. The Captain has been reading over it multiple times now, without giving much of a comment besides a “hm..” or a raise of her brow. A stern expression sat on her face, making it quite difficult to read her current opinion.

“Our job as Defense Force doesn't just stop once a Kaiju is neutralized. Taking care of the aftermath and trauma caused by the attacks is our responsibility as well.” You started.

“Many children have been affected by the destruction brought by the Kaiju– be it injuries, the loss of their home, friends and family or just mental trauma.” Soshiro continued.

“We want to show these children that we are a force they can trust, the people that will protect them from the terror. We want them to know that the second they see us, their life's will be in good hands.” You moved closer to Ashiro, determination glimmering in your eyes.

For a second her gaze shifted past both you and Hoshina, falling onto an empty space in her office. The woman had allowed her mind to lose itself in memories of the past, but only for a fleeting moment.

A long sigh escaped her lips as she folded her hands together and looked up at you with a serious face.

“I will ask the higher ups for permission to follow through with your..tour program, but don't get your hopes too far up. If we allow this to happen it cannot be a random group of children but rather a selected group of young individuals picked by the board itself.”

And that is how you ended up here.

Both you and Hoshina stood in front of the group of kids, each one more energetic than the other, waiting to show them around. It was a wild mixture of kids, yet they all seemed to look forward to what was to come.

Ashiro had told you that these were all children who came from special families, where at least one member was or still is part of a Defense Force. Meaning, that some or even all of them would be future soldiers.

Your husband's hands suddenly found yours as they pulled you closer, giving your fingers a soft squeeze before he clapped his hands together to address the children and caretakers who came with them.

“Welcome everyone, to Tachikawa Base, home of the Third Decision. I am Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro and we, my coworker and I, will give you special guests a top secret tour around the base.”

Cheers and chants of joy erupted from the crowd, filling the atmosphere with excitement. Watching the children caused a warm feeling to engulf your stomach. To think that Mina actually agreed to do this, you owed her big time.

“Please make sure to walk in rows of two. If you don't have a partner, my coworker and I will take that role.”

Almost immediately the children started to assemble and divide themselves into pairs, until only one child was left.

“Guess we have a lucky one!” You smiled, reaching out your hand to the young boy.

“What's your name, little one?” The boy's eyes refused to meet yours and neither did an answer find you but you did not mind.

Being in such a huge, unfamiliar place must be quite intimidating..

You thought, hands wrapping around his small fingers.

“Let's begin with the tour, shall we?”

The base had been specially prepared for today's visit. Some more intimidating and top secret projects had been moved to different places of the base (that were more off radar) and all cadets had been asked to be on their best behavior today. Despite it being such a small group, both you and Hoshina made sure to take care of even the smallest details. Everywhere the eyes of the children landed, their gazes were sure to meet with something interesting. Weapon display, old badges and special uniforms, you name it.

“And right here is our control room.” Hoshina announced upon opening the door to the large space. Countless monitors hung on the walls, the light of the panels illuminating the dark space so that the visitors could see the technologies they were unfamiliar with.

The children shone like little balls of joy as they explored the operation room, trying to understand what monitor was used for what.

“This is Konomi Okonogi, the Operations Leader of the Third Division. When out in battle and in need of information about the Kaiju or when we need special permission to unlock our suits' full potential, she is the person we turn to.” The children nodded in amaze and immediately shot their hands up into the air to bomb the woman with questions.

But while she was trying to feed the hunger of their minds, one child remained quiet – the boy from before.

“Is there anything you would like to ask our Operations Leader?” You smiled, hands softly nudging the boy's shoulder. But the child simply shook his head, eyes once again landing on his feet. Maybe it was just wishful thinking but for a second it did look like he wanted to say something but refused to.

Unfortunately, your attention was pulled away as it was needed somewhere else in that moment– by a child that had asked a battle specific question.

The tour soon progressed to the next room. With each new space you visited the children grew more fonder of the place. When lunchtime arrived you all sat down in the cafeteria to enjoy a meal together and around afternoon the group went outside to the training ground to watch some cadets train. Every moment felt magical, well, to most of them.

On your way back inside you noticed one of the children walk on its own, a slight gap between him and his peers. Averting your gaze to Hoshina you were hoping to consult him on the situation, as it was starting to bother you greatly, but he was too busy talking to one of the caretakers. Thus you approached the child by yourself once again.

“And? How are we enjoying the tour so far?” You gave the boy another genuine smile.

“It's good..” He said, yet his words did not match the expression on his face.

Despite his lack of interest you continued to try and build up a conversation with him but your efforts went in vain. The kid was as quiet as they could come, unbothered by your attempts of warming up to him and overall not very excited to be here.

Just when you were about to try again, another child suddenly called out for you, like before, requesting your knowledge on a certain topic. The boy stayed behind the group, his eyes flickering with emotions you were unfamiliar with.

“Excuse me?” Your hands slightly tipped the shoulder of one of the caretakers.

“Who's that boy over there? The little one with the black hair.”

“Oh, him? That is our little Sosuke. Not much of a talker but a very sweet child.”

You nodded your head and sighed. “I see. Do you mind me asking why he seems so..down? Did something happen prior to your arrival or..”

The caretaker shook her head, dismissing your assumptions. “Unlike the other children, Sosuke does not seem to be skilled in any type of way. All these children come, as you already know, from renown clans that are recognized for birthing the next generation's soldiers. It is a hard burden to put on the children but all of them know what they will be once they grow up. But Sosuke..his body is too weak and frail to keep up with the other children, that becomes quiet obvious during the smallest activities like playing catch or during gymnastics hour. We tried many times to explain to him that he might be a late bloomer but the boy is strictly convinced that he isn't as special as the others and therefore deserves less attention from us..”

You felt a strong force pull on your heart while listening to the woman. To think that a child, at such a fragile age, would think so little of itself already..it was awful. Your eyes lingered on Sosuke for a while, trying to think of a way to cheer him up– but nothing came to mind. Therefore you were stuck watching the boy hide away in the bubble he had forced himself into throughout the remainder of the tour..

x

The day came to an end way too fast for anyone's liking. Although you traveled through the entire base, the minds of the children still hadn't been satisfied. They begged to visit one more room, see one more weapon– anything to postpone a goodbye. It warmed your heart, hearing them cheer you and the other cadets on, showing gratitude for all the service you provided. How could anyone resist such sweetness?

“How about we show them the training room?” Hoshina suggested and you immediately agreed. The man led the group to the indoor training area, where some of his squad members were going at it. On your way there you made sure to keep a close eye on Sosuke, still unable to give up on the boy.

“Attention everyone!” Hoshina yelled, immediately gaining everyone's attention.

“We got some visitors.”

Kafka and Reno sat in the back of the room, occupying the lifting machines while Shinomiya sat in front of the mirror to do some post workout stretching. The entire group sat focused on their work, until they heard the voice of their Vice Captain.

That's when sweet chaos broke out.

The children climbed onto everything their little hands and feet could touch, including the cadets. Kafka soon turned into a tree for the children to climb on and so did Reno. Shinomiya found herself being trampled by four of the children, meanwhile Iharu and Izumo found a way to incorporate the kids into their workout by having them sit on their backs while performing push ups. Hoshina immediately bursted in a fit of laughter, amused by the current situation.

You yourself could not hide a smile. But amidst all the laughter and giggling your gaze subconsciously searched for Sosuke. Like before in the monitor room and the training ground, he stood in the back, watching the scene unfold– but this time something was different.

He watched his peers and the cadets with admiration in his eyes, with a tiny spark of amazement that shone like the stars in the firmament. The urge to join the fun grew with every second that passed, you could see it...yet he was still holding himself back for some reason.

“Sosuke was your name, am I right?” You tried to approach him one more time.

The boy, surprised that you knew his name, only managed to nod his head, but that was one of the best reactions you have seen from him all day.

“Wanna see something cool? I got a secret move none of the other cadets can do.” As you spoke those words, you kneeled down to the child's level, now being eye to eye with him.

“But..isn't such a special move meant to be seen by the other children rather than me..”

“No, I want you to see it.” Sosuke gasped lightly as you spoke those words, confused by the overwhelming attention you have been showing him up until now. While the boy was contemplating your intentions, you took off your shoes and placed them aside. Then, he finally nodded.

Almost immediately the boy found himself being yanked up into the air. You had wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him closer and somehow balanced him on your feet– with whom you threw him up into the air, of course not too high, and caught him with your hands. It all happened so fast that little Sosuke had almost no time to react but once he calmed down he was glowing with excitement.

“Again!”

And you threw him up again.

“Again!”

And another time.

“Again!”

You continued to throw the boy into the air just to catch him like a circus ball with your hands. Seeing his eyes glow and gleam with joy was more rewarding than any badge.

As you were both lost in the moment, you failed to notice Hoshina who was now moving closer to the both of you. His feet halted midway as he saw you open your mouth.

“Oh little Sosuke, you may not think that you are desired but you are no less dear to me.”

The boy's eyes froze upon hearing your words. His body softly slipped off your feet and landed onto the ground next to you.

“But..I'm not special..I'm not like the other kids in the group. I appreciate your kindness ma'am but I don't think that you should waste your time on me.."

Sosuke felt a cold wind hush over his skin as he recalled past memories of him trying to catch up with the other children. He suddenly felt lonely and left out, forgotten by the world…until a warm breeze suddenly engulfed him. Your arms wrapped themselves around his body, pulling the child into a long, warm hug.

“The kids can play with the other cadets and get their special attention." You poked his nose. “But you little Sosuke, shall have mine.”

Both Sosuke and Hoshina stood speechless by your words, their hearts feeling emotions they could not comprehend in that moment.

Soshiro suddenly grabbed his chest, the warmth in his heart being too overwhelming to ignore it. Could you hear his heartbeat? It was beating in irregular motions, loud and clear for all to hear. Hoshina knew that you were a good soul but never would he have thought that you were this amazing with children. But that was only to be expected, was it not?

They did not go unnoticed by Hoshina, your attempts of trying to win Sosuke over. He knew that you probably saw yourself in the small, insecure boy and therefore felt a dire need to consult him and let him know that he was already special enough, simply for being born into this world.

��Alright children, it's time to pack up now! One of the caretakers suddenly called.

“Oh my, time is already up? Alright Sosuke, let's-” Upon looking down at the boy, you were met with a view you did not expect to see today. Sosuke sat in your arms, thick tears running down his cheeks and staining his clothes.

“Don't wanna!” The boy yelled out, loud enough to alarm everyone. He was clinging onto you tightly, refusing to let go. As you looked up for help you finally took notice of Hoshina.

“Soshiro..are you seeing this?” You chuckled softly, the feeling of accomplishment washing over your skin.

“I don't wanna leave!” Sosuke continued to protest as Hoshina tried to get the boy off you.

It took your husband ten whole minutes to convince Sosuke to go with the caretakers, but that was only possible after making multiple promises.

“Yes, I will visit your kindergarten every month, I promise.”

“And..and you have to show me your special move again!” The boy cried out, both his hands wrapped around your leg.

“Yes, I will.” You spoke in a gentle voice, your fingers tapping against his shoulder to notify him that your time was up.

“Goodbye Mrs. Hoshina!” Sosuke yelled as his head disappeared behind the bus door.

“Goodbye Sosuke..”

It wasn't until the bus drove off that you felt an overwhelming surge of sadness pull on your heart. Luckily Hoshina stood right next to you to embrace you in a warm hug.

“There there.” He cooed, smiling at your fragile self. You stayed like that for a while, feeling comfort in Hoshina's presence.

The children of this world are faced with hardship and terror from an early age– especially those who come from renown clans like yours and Hoshinas. You remember it all too well, the pressure applied to you by your parents to achieve greatness and make it big in the world of Kaiju fighters. Knowing that you managed to get through to Sosuke and reassure him that he was special despite not being as strong as the others, it made your heart feel just a little lighter.

[orange-demons-deactivated2024]

LOVE[ləv]

noun 1. an intense feeling of deep affection doing chores (ft. luke, ed, jamie, bosch)

LUKE

You and Luke sat cross-legged on the living room floor, surrounded by piles of clutter.

This mess slowly accumulated over time, getting worse every time you stopped by or dropped something off. His place was covered with old gym shirts, crushed drink cans, and random training equipment just lying around.

Of course, none of this bothered Luke and without your intervention, this would've continued until he was swallowed whole by the mountain of clothes on his couch.

You decided it was time to finally go through this mess, more for your sanity than his, figuring out what to keep and what to throw away.

Luke leaned back on his hands, giving you a triumphant smile. “This isn’t so bad, right? A little quality time, with just you, me, and a mountain of my stuff.”

You shook your head, amused by his attempt to make light of the situation. “If by ‘quality time’ you mean me reminding you to throw away half of this junk, then sure.”

Luke chuckled, reaching over to grab one of his worn-out gym shirts. “Hey, these shirts have been with me through some pretty tough times. You sure we’re ready to say goodbye to ‘em?”

“Luke, this has more holes than shirt, I think it’s time to let it go.”

He held it up, pretending to inspect the fabric with a serious expression. “You’re probably right,” he sighed loudly before tossing it into the discard pile. “Farewell, old friend.”

You laughed as you went through a stack of random items. “I don’t know how you manage to collect so much stuff. It’s like every time I turn around, something new ends up on the floor.”

“What can I say? I’ve got a lot going on. Training, gaming, more training. Things just… pile up.” Luke shrugged.

“Uh-huh,” you teased, holding up a pair of his old gloves. “Like this? I swear you’ve got five more lying around.”

Luke took the gloves from you, flipping them over in his hands. “Okay, these I’m keeping. The padding hasn't fully worn out of these yet.”

“Fine" You decided to let it slide, "but we’re tossing at least three pairs if I find any more.”

“Deal,” Luke said, though you knew he’d be sneaking one or two into the ‘keep’ pile when you weren’t looking.

As you continued sorting, Luke gave you some sob story about nearly every item you came across, wanting to keep them all. There was an empty water bottle that had somehow wedged itself under the couch, a faded hat he hadn’t worn in years, and a collection of loose change you had no idea where he’d pulled from.

Digging deeper you stumbled upon an old, slightly crumpled photo buried under a stack of gym magazines. Curious, you picked it up and inspected the faded edges, noticing it was a picture of Luke when he was much younger, maybe in his teenage years with shaggy hair and, to your surprise, braces.

“Luke,” you said, holding up the photo. “Is this you…with braces?”

Luke, who had been lazily sorting through another pile of stuff, perked up as he glanced over at the picture. “Oh man, I thought I got rid of all those.”

You grinned, tilting it toward the light to get a better look. “You look so cute with your braces! How old were you here?”

The picture was of a much younger version of your boyfriend, maybe in his early teens, with his messy hair and a wide, toothy grin filled with metal braces. He was standing awkwardly in front of what looked like an army base, looking like a typical goofy teenager.

Luke chuckled, feeling exposed at the old memory, “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I think I was like what, 19? Took me a few years to outgrow it.”

You giggled, holding the picture close to your chest. “I think it’s adorable. You looked like a kid with all that metal in your mouth.”

“Man, but those braces were a nightmare. You wouldn’t believe how many times I got them stuck on things.” He said, shaking his head. "Plus, it was hard for people to take you seriously when your braces gave you a lisp."

Yeah, you could see it, a younger Luke fumbling with his braces while trying to look intimidating, “Well, at least you’ve got the smile to show for it now. So I'd say it was totally worth it.”

“Guess so, but I think I’ll leave the metal mouth days in the past. Too much trauma.” Luke gave you a crooked grin, leaning back on his hands again.

You rolled your eyes, tossing the photo onto the keep pile with a smile. “Drama queen.”

ED

"Hey, If you don’t pick something in the next thirty seconds, I’m leaving you here."

Ed’s voice cut through your train of thought. He leaned heavily against the handle of the shopping cart, your shopping cart to be precise, filled to the brim with everything from fresh fruit to a giant box of sugary cereal that had somehow found its way in despite his usual insistence on “getting only the essentials.”

You stood near the refrigerated aisle, your eyes wandering across rows and rows of eggs stacked in pristine gray and white packaging. This was the last item on your list before you two could finally check out and go home. But of course, you wanted to be difficult.

For the past 15 minutes, he watched as you’d painstakingly switched between two cartons.

Fifteen. Whole. Minutes.

“Regular or cage-free…” you murmured, biting the inside of your cheek.

“They’re eggs,” he groaned, tapping on the cart’s handle with his bare knuckles. “Just grab one, and go.”

“Don't you know the difference between the two?”

“Yeah. One’s cheaper."

The corner of your mouth twitched into a knowing smile as you turned toward him. “Cage-free means the chickens aren’t cooped up in tiny cages all day. They can at least see the sun and stretch their legs. It’s a little more humane.”

“Right. And regular means I don’t have to listen to this debate every time we’re in this aisle.” Ed rolled his eyes, “Just flip a coin or something.”

“I’m just saying, what if the cage-free label is just a marketing tactic and I’m being duped into paying more for the same thing?” you frowned at the nutritional information on the box.

“You’re killin' me here.”

“Okay, Tough guy," You turned your attention to him again, "what do you think we should get? Regular or Cage-free?

"I think we should get out of this aisle before I lose my mind.”

“That's not helpful," you laughed as you inspected the cartons one last time.

"You know," you said after a moment, holding them up for comparison, "I think we should go with cage-free. It’s a little more expensive, but—"

"Great. Let’s do that," Ed snatched the cage-free eggs from your hand and chucked them into the cart.

"Ed! You can’t just throw them in there! What if you cracked them?" You gasped, fishing the carton out to inspect it.

“Doesn’t matter. We’re gonna scramble them anyway.”

“That's not how it works. Cracked eggs mean bacteria, and you can't exactly ‘scramble’ the salmonella away.”

Ed groaned, dragging a hand down his face. This guy was already mentally checked out of this conversation, “Look, I’ve been eating food off sketchy diner plates since I was a kid. I'm pretty sure my stomach can handle a broken egg or two.”

You ignored his grumbling and carefully opened the carton, inspecting each one with care. Only when you were convinced that none of them showed even the slightest crack did you gently place them in the corner of the cart, on top of the soft loaf of bread.

"Okay, now we’re done.” You announced, filled with relief.

“Are you sure?” Ed said sarcastically, “Because I don’t think we’ve debated long enough about the milk yet.”

"Yeah, I think I tortured you enough for today." You patted his back.

"Good," Ed muttered, already pushing the cart toward the checkout lanes before you could change your mind. "Because if you stayed a second longer, I would've thrown myself in the freezer with the frozen pizzas."

You stifled a laugh, imagining him wedged between the stacks of pepperoni and meat lovers pizzas as you walked alongside him. “I’d pay good money to see that.”

“You’re already costing me good money,” he said eyeing the cart, or more specifically, the tiny succulent you’d insisted would ‘bring life’ to your apartment. He gripped the cart’s handle tighter. “Let’s just pay and get out of here.”

As you reached the checkout line, you started to unload the items on the conveyor belt while Ed talked to the cashier. You took them out one by one, inspecting each item for any defects or leekage as you placed them down.

Your hands paused mid-air when you spotted something buried under the bags of frozen vegetables. It was the unmistakable packaging of your favorite chips.

Your heart skipped a beat. You hadn’t mentioned those chips in...What, months? Maybe even longer. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d bought them.

You looked over at Ed, who was too busy punching in his card PIN and muttering something about “highway robbery” to notice your reaction. You knew he didn’t like to deviate from his list—every second spent in the store was a second he’d rather spend anywhere else. Yet here was the one thing you loved, quietly hidden under everything else.

A hidden smile grazed your lips as you gently placed the chips on the conveyor belt. You decided not to mention it. After all, Ed would rather jump into that freezer than admit he’d done something sweet on purpose.

"Hey," he called over his shoulder after signing the receipt, "Next time, we’re getting the cheap eggs, got it?"

You reached for the brown paper bag that held your chips and pressed them protectively against your chest. "Yeah, next time."

JAMIE

Every Sunday, you and Jamie made it a routine to get to the laundromat early, knock out your laundry within a couple of hours, and then go about your day before the rest of the city woke up. It used to be that simple until you started living with a certain peacekeeper whose warm, clingy arms made getting out of bed feel impossible. Sometimes, untangling yourself from him in the morning was a bigger challenge than the laundry itself.

But after cycling through the same stale clothes for far too long, you’d had enough. You were determined to get your chores done today, no matter how much he whined about you coming back to bed. And Jamie was tagging along too, since he’s part of the reason why you were so behind on your chores.

He hated the laundromat, though. And to be fair, it wasn’t the most exciting place to be. The stale smell of detergent, the mechanical churn of washers, and the uneven chairs were all a far cry from his ideal Sunday. Usually, you managed to arrive early enough to avoid the rush, but Jamie had insisted on getting some street food along the way, and now here you were, stuck waiting for a machine to open up in the middle of the morning rush. Great.

You sighed, watching him devour the last of his Jianbing before nudging him with your foot. “This is your fault, you know. We would’ve beaten the crowd if we’d come straight here.”

He grinned, wiping the crumbs off his mouth. “But weren’t those the best egg rolls you’ve ever had?”

“That’s not the point,” You ran a hand over your face in frustration. “The point was I wanted to be here early so we wouldn’t get stuck like this.”

“Look on the bright side, this means there's more time for us to hang out. Annnd we can people-watch.” Jamie shrugged.

You rolled your eyes. “Jamie, you people watch all the time, if anything this is a normal Tuesday.”

“Fine, then how about this?” He fished a coin from his pocket and held it to you. “We’ll play a game while we wait for a machine to open up.”

“And if I win?” you challenged.

He leaned back in his seat, flicking the coin idly. “Anything you want.”

“Anything?” you said, arching a brow.

“Anything,” he echoed, snapping the coin into his palm.

You considered it for a moment, debating if you should really entertain his antics. But then again, sitting here doing nothing wasn’t any better "Alright But if I win, you’re folding all the laundry and putting everything away when we get home."

“You drive a hard bargain. That is, if you win.” He chuckled.

“And if I lose?” 

“Oh, I’ll figure something out,” he teased. “Maybe I’ll have you wear my shirts to bed for a week straight. Or make me breakfast in bed for the next seven days. I’m pretty flexible.”

“You’re ridiculous,” You shook your head, though you couldn't help the tiny smile forming on your face. You rummaged through your plastic cup, pulling a coin out. “Try not to waste all our quarters before a machine even opens up.”

“No promises,” Jamie spun his coin on the chipped tabletop, watching as it whirled and rattled before finally clattering to a stop. You placed yours carefully on its edge and flicked it, smirking in satisfaction when it spun longer than his.

“All right, all right,” he laughed, picking up his quarter. “You win this round. But let’s see if you can do it twice in a row, Mooncake.”

You snorted at the nickname as you grabbed your coin.

“Watch me.” You flicked it again, only for Jamie to 'accidentally' bump your shoulder, making it fall almost instantly.

“Hey! Cheater!” you yelped, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“It was an accident.” He threw his hands up, though the shit-eating grin on his face said otherwise.

Before you could scold him, the ding of a finished washer caught both of your attention. Your heads snapped to the washer, and for a split second, neither of you moved until Jamie bolted from his chair.

“Race you!” he shouted, scooping up his basket of dirty clothes. The coins in his pocket jingled as he dashed ahead.

“Jamie, you get back here!” you called after him, chasing him with your own laundry in tow. A grin stretched across your face despite your annoyance. Laundry days might be a chore, but with Jamie around, they were never boring.

BOSCH

Ever since you and Bosch moved in together, your apartment had become a curious blend of both your personalities. Well, mostly yours. Bosch didn’t buy much outside of the essentials, so while your shelves overflowed with trinkets and sentimental knick-knacks, his remained bare and devoid of life.

It made you sad sometimes, walking into a space that didn’t feel completely lived in. So you did your best to add a touch of warmth wherever you could.

The patio was small, but it was your pride and joy. Overflowing with greenery, it resembled a tiny garden oasis. Tomato and basil plants, which were Bosch’s favorites, were neatly lined along the edges, while your wildflowers spilled chaotically from hanging baskets and colorful pots.

Bosch carried a large watering can, tipping the spot downward to drench the soil around the base of the tomato plants. As he worked, you shuffled toward the other side of the patio with your smaller watering can, sprinkling water with a childlike enthusiasm.

"You know, you could use the bigger can to save time." Bosch said, straightening up and stretching his back before setting his watering can down.

“But this one’s so cute!” you replied, lifting your can and pointing at the little fish decals. “Plus, it’s easier to control.” You wiggled it with pride before crouching down in front of a potted plant near the edge of the patio.

It was a sad sight.

A wilted flower sat in a cracked stone pot. Its leaves drooped sadly, and its once-vibrant petals were now brown and shriveled up. You knelt beside it, setting the watering can down.

“Oh no! What happened to you?” You brushed your fingers over one of the wilted petals.

"That thing’s dead, No point wasting time on it."

You gasped dramatically, turning to him with wide eyes. "How could you say that? This poor little guy is just going through something!"

He crossed his arms and leaned against the railing, "That thing’s been going through something for months, just let it go."

You ignored him, turning your attention back to the flower. You tipped your watering can delicately, letting water drizzle into the dry soil.

"It’s okay, little one," you whispered softly, almost as if the plant could hear you. "You just need some TLC and we’ll get you back to your full, beautiful self."

"You do realize you’re talking to a plant, right?" Bosch raised a brow at you.

"Plants are alive too, you know. Maybe they feel things in their own way." You chuckled, not taking your eyes off the flower. "I think he’s just been lonely out here, I should move him closer to the other flowers."

Bosch crouched beside you to get a better look at it. “You seriously think it’ll come back?”

“I know it will,” You said as you tilted the pot to inspect the roots, “It just needs fresh soil and a little more attention.”

“More attention,” Bosch scoffed, “You already treat these things better than you take care of yourself.”

“Well, then maybe you should treat me better, too.” You gave him a playful nudge.

“I already do,” he nudged you back. “You’re just too high-maintenance.”

“I am not high-maintenance! I just have...an acquired taste for things.”

He smirked, leaning closer. “Acquired, huh? Is that what you call all those fish decals on your watering can?”

You abruptly stood up with the plant in your hands. “Don’t mock the fishies, they bring character. And I got them for sale for 50 cents. So who's the real winner here?”

Bosch chuckled as he pushed himself up. “Fine, do what you want with that thing, but don’t expect me to help out if it starts turning to powder.”

"And if he survives?"

"If it survives I'll pay for our next outing."

"Really?"

"But if it doesn’t, we’re tossing it out."

"Deal," you grinned, placing the wilted plant among the healthier ones. "But don’t be surprised when he’s blooming better than ever in a few weeks."

“You’ve got a lot of confidence for someone whose last plant experiment ended up in the compost bin.” He teased, recalling the incident that happened not even a month ago.

“That was one time, and it wasn’t my fault. The weather was weird that week!”

“Uh-huh.” He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue with you any further. “Whatever you say.” But you saw a hint of a grin on his face as he grabbed his watering can again. He moved to the other side of the patio to water the herbs and vegetable sprouts.

You huffed, as you picked up your can, resuming your morning chores. Though you smiled to yourself knowing full well he’d be there to help you when it came down to it, no matter how much he complained.

[valentine-writes]

hii!! i was wondering if you could write headcanons for like the main four spider-kids (miles, gwen, pavitr and hobie) with a reader who like smacks people when they laugh really hard? preferably w/ a reader thats a spider-person but its up to you! :3

aggressive affection!

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited, dude used once in a gender neutral way, mentions of bruising and minor injuries (but nothing crazy), spider-person reader, reader forgetting that being a spider-person makes them stronger,,, um. (°ー°〃) oops!!! 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. gwen stacy, hobie brown/spider-punk, miles morales, and pavitr prabhakar

author's note: YES I CAN YES I CAN!! this prompt iz so funny AUWWUDH I HOPE I DID IT JUSTICE!!! つ﹏⊂ also super excited 2 get to write more of them becuz AWUDGWAAHWGHWAGUAGH I LOVE THESE CHARACTERZ SMM,,, also excuse me if there's more repetition or typos than usual,,, im eepy ( つ᷄ ‸･ )

GWEN STACY headcanons

▸ the first one to fall victim to your little habit. she doesn't mind in the slightest, mainly because she's generally pretty welcome to friendly touches- even if it is slightly more aggressive than she had expected. frankly, you could've literally bitten her and she probably would've reacted the same.

she's a little awkward about it at first, pausing mid laughter as you deliver playful hits to her shoulder and bicep. she playfully shoves you away at first, like, "haha– what– what are you doing–" but quickly warms up to it

▸ here's the thing though. she 100% will do it back. if you're both joking around and losing it over something, you end up hitting each other through laughter. and it'll INTENSIFY. at some points, everyone's wondering if you two are actually beefing or not ur not. itz the way u show affection 2 one another,,, in the strangest manner

when you're assigned on missions with her, you usually end up chatting– and then you find something hilarious to giggle abt and everything goes off the rails

y'all will return to HQ bruised asf like "nah man the anomaly didn't even touch us."

jessica and miguel DEF pick up the fact y'all goof off and beat each other up before even locating the anomaly HWJEJNDNE

unfortunately– gwen is slowly paired less with you on missions becuz of this. they can't have you distracting one another a girl can never have fun fr </3

nothing that some good behaviour can't fix! just try not to give each other a complete smackdown while on duty and you'll be paired together again in no time! hopefully...

▸ both you and gwen forget that being spider-people involves super strength. and though you're both used to taking a blow or two, it stands plain and obvious that the two of you can get carried away. gwen especially. she's just a little rough sometimes– not like she means to be.

sometimes, the dull ache from the bruises she left leave you wondering if you're both a little too funny for your own good. at least she makes sure to take care of it and hold back,, when she can.

when it's your turn to get carried away, she sees your eyes widen as you splutter a million apologies to her. but every time you deliver one hit too hard, she insists it never hurts much as you think.

"dude, it's okay. you can chill out." gwen reassures. "besides, i'm built tougher than that."

she flashes a grin at you, and it's almost convincing. like she didn't even feel a thing. you know better though– gwen definitely has days where she's more sore than she'd like to be because of you. not like she'd ever admit. she likes the random play fights between the two of you.

though, you will admit that the amount of trips to the infirmary in search of ice packs is getting just the teeniest bit absurd. people are starting to ask questions at HQ-- which is fine. the frozen bag of peas gwen offers to you for your injuries works just as good as any ice pack ...it's been sitting in the bottom of her freezer for God Knows How Long but you don't need to know that

HOBIE BROWN headcanons:

▸ you see how this guy interacts with people???

hobie's used to friendly touches, and initiates physical contact without overthinking it. that little shoulder shake he does w/ miles makes me smile everytime i heart hobie. ALSO AAUWHEHWH LEBRON AND DWAYNE'S HANDSHAKE BEING HOBIE'S AND PAV'S?? I ADORE.

you really think something as little as a few friendly punches and hits bothers hobie "forehead-kissing-the-homies-goodnight" brown??? /lh + /hj but man platonic physical affection hobie. like. hear me on this one.

▸ he's 100% cool with it– actually initiated it before you did. nothing crazy, a light smack on your back or arm as he laughed with

eventually, while joking around with you, realized you had the same habit

you end up hitting each other quite a bit– but he's not as accidentally aggressive as gwen is. laughing with hobie won't get you hospitalized, he's cognizant enough with his strength to know how much to hold back.

▸ then again, there are times where you get carried away. hobie's quick to shake it off, not feeling the effect of the hit until later– if you notice and apologize, he'll just shake his head and shrug

"nah, nah– it's fine." he insists, chuckling a bit as he rubs the spot where you smacked him. "there's been worse."

and yes, objectively, you know that's true– but you both fight villains in your everyday life. of course there's going to be worse than just a hit too hard. he won't accept an ice pack– but will joke that you could just kiss it better instead

that earns a groan from you, smacking him again in the arm for good measure as he snickers

MILES MORALES headcanons:

▸ doesn't hate it!! not against it!!! find it surprising at first. he didn't expect a playful punch to his arm in response to his little joke, but watching as you giggled uncontrollably, hitting him lightly– he decided that he didn't mind too much

he knows you don't mean any harm, so it's cool with him! he's rolling with the punches literally every time you two are losing it

▸ if you land a smack on him that ends up being a little too hard, he'll definitely try to play it off awkwardly, rubbing it and nervously laughing when you ask if he's okay

"oh sh–" you promptly stop, your smile fading as concern floods your face. he winced slightly at your last hit and it was much to obvious to ignore. "you good, miles? i am so sorry–"

"me? yeah, yeah– it's cool!" he replies dismissively, giving you the lightest punch back. miles laughs nervously at your completely unconvinced expression.

"bro. cmon. be real."

"that? hah– nahh. barely felt it." spoilers!!! he felt it

you keep it in mind to dial it back a bit when with miles, because he barely hits back and hates admitting when it actually hurts.

you'll get an occasional "ow–" with a little chuckle, but he refuses to acknowledge that you might be a bit too rough. he jus doesn't wanna hurt feelings man :(

you're his friend who gets a little too carried away sometimes– and that's fine!!! besides, he can't let gwen and hobie have all the fun.

"you holding back on me?" he asks you, noticing your hits have gotten weaker.

"what's it to you?"

"i can handle it. 's fine!! really!" miles says. there's a beat of silence as you stare at him incredulously.

"and you didn't bruise last time?." you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"yeah."

"...say swear."

miles raises his hands, sighing. "ok, look–" HE WANTZ 2 ROUGHHOUSE W/ HIS FRIEND TOO OK (*ﾉε｀*) besides. u and gwen and hobie seem to have so much fun w/ it,,

▸ because of his stubbornness, you oblige, pulling your punches just a little less when having a little laughing fit with him.

as a result, miles develops a habit deflecting your hits while absolutely losing it. gently shoving your hands away as you smack him, both of you doubling over laughter

miles will say sumn he knows you'll find a lil too funny and just,,, *cue continuous hitting and blocking as he predicts literally Every Movement you make* he's literally learned to parry becuz of u HAJWBDKDNEN

PAVITR PRABHAKAR headcanons:

▸ the type to pretend to beat up his friends while making punching noises when he's bored

he's just lightly tapping u with his knuckles going "pow– pow pow– bam–" under his breath HANWJENDN IM SORRY I FIND THIS FUNNY. i also. do this. (｡･･｡).

and ur like "...uh. ok."

he's def not opposed to it!! when he has the energy, he's all for it!!! pavitr's playfully hitting, shoving you away, gasping for air as the two of you giggle over something that's only really funny to the two of you.

he's pretty energetic most of the time, and it manifests as you "brawl" with each other as you laugh over some stupid joke.

▸ when you hit him a little too hard, most of the time, he doesn't even notice until the aftermath manifests as a bruise or two on his arms– but even then he doesn't care.

however,,, there are occasions where he initiates it, laughing and smacking you– and when you're laughing with him, raising your hand to hit back, he'll gasp dramatically, recoil instantly and get all dramatic about it i'm projecting all the things i do onto pav i bet u cant tell /sarc

pav the minute you decide to try and get him back– bar for bar, word for word:

he's just a little guy,, a little guyy,,, nooo,,, itz also his birthday,, he's a little birthday boy– HWJWBDN SORRY THIS IS SO UNSERIOUS

this is a bit that he drags on FOREVERRR like itz the funniest thing in the world

▸ ALL of his hits are a little too hard. he does the fake beat up thing a lot but when you two are roughhousing, you're the one reminding him to chill out through stifled laughs

he'll immediately soften the blows quickly at your request, knowing it's probably best for you to remain as uninjured as possible when not doing mission. can't have your shit rocked before you even face a villain!!! his hits end up somewhere between hobie's and gwen's– an almost perfect middle (*´꒳`*)

almost.

occasionally, he'll literally just... take the hits. not like miles where he's deflecting. he's jus standing there laughing while you smack him. which is a concerning sight for anyone who isn't used to your antics!!!

this happened in hq once and peter b, who happened to be walking by, lowkey thought you were straight up attacking pav

upon hearing the two of you giggling though, he figured that he wasn't witnessing an act of violence and didn't have to step in

[godofdumpsterfalling]

Headcanon Dump - Hermes & Apollo ft. Dionysus (Riordanverse)

Because I have a mountain of these and if I don’t organize them they will be completely incoherent. Under a cut for length.

- Apollo basically raised Hermes, for all the value of “raised” when concerning gods.

- Maia did not want to be a mother, and had no idea how to. She tried, and did care about Hermes, but was secretly relieved when Hermes took to following Apollo everywhere. Zeus was really perfecting his parenting style of the day, which was caring about his kids from a distance (he had other priorities, they were not really near the top) and occasionally popping in to give some Fatherly Advice or have bonding moment (omg taking his kids fishing…deadbeat dad core for REAL) before fucking off again like “parental control duties DONE I am SUCH a good dad. See you again in like 50 years, sport!” It was particularly bad when Hermes was born.

- Hermes followed Apollo around for a solid couple hundred years, acting as his shadow pretty much. It drove Athena and Artemis CRAZY. Apollo’s extroverted ass was completely baffled by people being off put by his baby brother basically being attached to his back. He’s not gonna bother you he’s just gonna hang out?? What’s the problem??

- Hermes stayed in a younger form for a looong time because he knew Apollo would never say no to him if he looked cute enough. Until he got hit with the depression beam, he kept whipping that form out whenever he got in trouble. He’s baby, your honor, you can’t be mad at a BABY

- Hermes held Dionysus for 2 seconds before he decided he was willing to die for this little guy. The couple hours after he was born were spent by Hermes holding him up to random family members and going “LOOK AT HIM HES SO SMALL” and the family members going “Hermes please do your job”

- When Dionysus joined Olympus, Hermes eagerly took him under his wing in a similar manner to Apollo taking on Hermes. Not as much weird parental responsibility though. But he was still following Apollo everywhere so Apollo got TWO mischievous shadows. Much to Artmemis’ dismay. Why are there TWO OF THEM

- All they ever had to do was duck behind Apollo and he’d defend them against whoever they’d pissed off now even when they were 100% in the wrong. Especially when they were 100% in the wrong, honestly.

- Zeus and Hermes’ relationship has a lot of layers (a post for another time) but the bare bones basics is that early on Zeus just thought he was a Clown (that’s my funny boy <3) and nowadays he’s Zeus’ under appreciated, overworked personal assistant. Although he’s kind of been Zeus’ lapdog since the beginning. Father Please Notice Me I am not as shiny as Apollo but I can roll over so nice pls pls pls

- Hermes has not had a nap in the past century somebody please help him. Give your local delivery man a nice tip because he has like 20 other domains and would rather be doing Literally Anything Else. And also a hug maybe, the most contact he ever gets is when he brushes hands with whoever he’s giving a package. Somebody get this man a paid vacation he has been holding Olympus together with duct tape

- Hermes has the worst case of Middle Child Syndrome Known To Man

- Hermes and Artemis like each other! Shockingly. For reasons unrelated to Apollo, even. They just like to hang out. Hermes is one of the two Olympians she’s happy to be around <3

- Apollo has tried, with varying success, to get Hermes and Athena to be friends. The results have been… mixed.

- Athena, Apollo and Hermes will occasionally have absolutely legendary verbal smackdowns. So brutal that it would actually evaporate a mortal on the spot. Indescribable, really. Anyone who overhears them will never mentally recover,

[irondad-and-spiderson]

Hi! Sorry to bother, idk if you take asks like this (if you don't feel free to ignore!) but do you know any good fics where SI employees bully/threaten/mistreat Peter and Tony comes to the rescue? Thank you so much for your time 💙💙

Hi! I absolutely do! I might just take forever to respond and take your prompt a little loosely 😃 The three under the cut are employees with (valid) security concerns. I know there are more that I can’t find, so anyone feel free to add some 😉

A Big Security Issue by FotiBrit

When Peter lost his Stark Industries Staff ID, Tony handed the kid his own. That was never an issue, until Peter had to check in at the front desk.

-

The Cusp of a Breath by SpaceCowboysFromMars

“That was the most stressful thing I’ve ever experienced.” Peter says as he and Tony make their way into the crowd. He wipes his sweaty palms on his thighs, cringing when he remembers how much the suit costs.

“You got shot on patrol last month.”

“This was worse.”

Or; Peter is introduced as the official heir of Stark Industries, but not everyone is completely welcoming of his presence. Luckily, he has a pretty awesome mentor to keep him on track.

-

the love (and other things) you inherit by ironfidus

“Which is why,” Catherine says, unblinking, as delicately as she can, “the board requires that you name a successor in the event of your untimely demise. The risk has simply become too great for us to ignore.”

Tony Stark’s spent a large portion of his life thinking about legacy: his legacy, his company’s, Iron Man’s. He’s spent a lot of time fighting to protect his legacy, too. But today, with a lawyer as his witness and FRIDAY as his one-AI cheerleading squad, he stops, takes a step back, and lets go instead—because for the first time, his legacy isn’t about him, not really.

And as FRIDAY would say: it’s about damn time.

Alternatively: Tony updates his will and gets himself an heir, Peter gets a promotion (for lack of a better word), and the rest of the world gets a wake-up call—in that order. Ft. an impatient board of directors, a Stark Industries charity gala, and a universe in which Tony Stark gets to be happy.

-

Security Bias by Sara (ctrsara)

Happy Hogan asks Daren Anderson to help him out with a little project.

My take on idk-bruh-20's irondad fic ideas #128: Fic where, after a security incident in which some bozo accused Peter of trespassing at Stark Tower, Happy holds an emergency briefing for the entire SI security team.

The topic of the briefing? The absolutely untouchable, vital-to-know-if-you-want-to-keep-your-job level of importance of one Peter Parker.

:)

Five Times Tony Stark's Fabled Intern Just Showed Up + One Time He Was Invited by kingdomfaraway

While Leroy didn’t like gossip, he wasn’t immune to it and he’d heard about a young boy claiming to be Tony Stark’s intern showing up randomly throughout the building. He just figured it was some random mystery, a Stark Industries cryptid if you will.

Never did he think he’d have a sighting.

“Are you Peter Parker?” Leroy questioned, narrowing his eyes at the young boy, looking for any signs of deceit.

“Oh yeah, that’s me, hi!” Possibly Fabled Intern Peter Parker reached into his pocket and pulled out a badge and lanyard, this one with his face on it and INTERN written underneath it. “Mr. Stark got me a badge so I can get nachos whenever I want.”

-

Chapter 1 of 200 Park Avenue (5+1) by Sara (ctrsara)

Peter hasn't seen Mr. Stark, or been able to go out as Spider-man since he turned down his invitation to join the Avengers a few weeks ago. He ends up at Stark Tower rather randomly, finding an unlikely hero in Mr. Stark's AI, then keeps returning for different purposes.

The first chapter is a short I did for Comfortember 2022 that I've just kept thinking about. I'm building on that story and creating a 5+1 to explore the new dynamic (post-Homecoming) in another way.

Or

5 Times Peter Visited Stark Tower and 1 Time He Stayed

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Home by patrochilles_trash ((it’s less angsty than it sounds))

Tony had been out of the country for weeks on SI business, and Peter was having a hard time. He missed him, plain and simple.

Okay. Maybe not so plain and simple.

Peter had a rough time in the weeks and months that followed the final defeat of Thanos in the ruins of the Compound. Thrust back into life, only to be forced to fight for the lives of the entire universe for the second time at only sixteen-years-old, and then to be told that his last living relative died in a crash during his five year absence did wonders for his psyche.

He developed a nasty form of separation anxiety toward his mentor-turned-adoptive-father -- not that Tony fared much better himself -- and his therapist had said it was a side effect of PTSD and that it would get better over time.

OR

A small field trip fic to SI where Tony has been out of the country for a few weeks, and Peter isn't handling it well.

Don't be fooled. This garbage fluff to avoid my other fics that I'm writing