#i saw him up close in person and i was like 'he's so SHORT'

[burnforyou]

POST SURGERY - LUIGI MANGIONE x READER

!SUMMARY! just some short and sweet fluff about helping lu after surgery :)

luigi stirred on the bed, letting out soft groans as he woke up from a deep slumber. you heard his soft noises and raised your head off of your arms, your neck aching. you slept sat up all night, leaning against the bed next to luigi. morning light falls over his bedroom.

he tried to sit up but the cold metal brace prevented him from moving. pain shot up his spine and he threw himself back down and shut his eyes tight, praying for the pain to go away.

"lu, what do you need? food, water, your medication?" you asked gently, trying to stand up after sleeping in an odd position.

"water, please, vita mia" he croaked out, his voice very hoarse.

you came back from the kitchen with a glass of cold water, a straw, and a full water bottle. you held the straw up to his lips and he took a long sip.

"kiss me please."

you lean down and press your lips onto his with a peck. after you pull away, he stays laying with his eyes closed and a light smile on his lips.

his stomach lightly growls and you finally take in his body, seeing the metal brace hugging his lower waist.

it broke your heart to see him like this, a normally strong and fit person, so weak, in so much pain. you know his pain has been killing him. it's held him back from so much in life and it physically hurts you to see him like this.

you caught on to the slight signs of his pain: his jaw clenching, he’d blink a little harder than usual and furrow his eyebrows. sometimes he’s walk with a slight hunch in his back.

"vivo nel dolore, nella miseria. I can't take it anymore." he'd cry at night, protected by the darkness of your shared bedroom. (I live in pain, in misery)

"I know, lu, we're gonna get you help soon." your eyes would well up with tears, knowing there was nothing you could do to help him.

"are you hungry?"

"mmhmm," he nods, eyes still closed.

"go back to sleep lu, I know you're exhausted. I'll make soup, is that okay?"

he nods.

"can you bring bread too?" he spoke up.

"of course. soup and bread coming right up!" you cheer, trying to lift his spirits, as well as yours, as much as you can. you silently weep in the kitchen while watching his tomato soup heat up in the microwave. you felt so helpless, almost pathetic. there was nothing you could do to help his pain.

you shove a slice of bread in your mouth, swallowing your sobs, and bring him warm soup with a couple slices of bread.

"here, sit," he said, patting the bed beside him. you sit on the edge of the bed, careful to not create a dip in the mattress.

you scooped up a small amount of soup onto the spoon. you hold it to his lips carefully. he slurps up the tomato soup, the hot liquid running down his throat and warming his whole body. you sit with him for almost an hour, tenderly hand feeding him soup and small pieces of bread.

“why do you look so sad?” he questioned, hand reaching for your thigh. he saw how sad and exhausted you looked, struggling to keep your eyes open as you fed him.

“i’m just really worried about you,” you replied, stroking his face. he looked up at you with pain clouding his eyes.

“you don’t need to worry about me.”

“of course i worry about you lu, i don’t want you to be in pain.” you comb your hands through his soft curls.

you shake your head and put a piece of bread up to his mouth so he can’t say anything more.

he swallows the piece of bread and smiles up at you. "sei buono come il pane.” you furrow your eyebrows down at him. the soup made his lips a shade darker, shining with a deep red stain. (you are as good as bread)

“what does that mean?”

“it means you're as good as bread. its a common phrase, just means you're a good person, and that you're loving and, and stuff like that." he looks down at his hands and fidgets with his brace.

"you're sweet." you pinch his cheek and he smiles to himself.

you put the bowl and utensils on his bedside table, standing up. you yawned and he did too.

“you’re tired?”

"mm, not really," you lied through your teeth.

"I can see the dark circles under your eyes."

“you need to sleep too.”

“i’m not tired.” he blinked his eyes a couple of times, failing to keep them open for long.

“close your eyes, i can see them drooping.”

“lay with me," he pats the bed on the other side of him and settles back on a pillow.

“no lu, you know i can’t” you shake your head.

“per favore, i hate sleeping on my back in a cold, empty bed.” he tilted his head back, getting a sudden stabbing pain up his spine.

"do you want me to put the blanket on you?" he shakes his head. "alright. just go to sleep hun, you'll see me in the morning." you start out of his bedroom, going to turn the light out.

“wait, y/n.”

“what luigi?” you stop and turn your head to look at him.

“what about a goodnight kiss?” he pouted up at you.

me if making everything I write dialogue based was illegal

MASTERLIST - PREV. WORK

!TAGS!

@strawbrriess @bellobambino @f4nfic-lover @btcowboy @chmpgneprblem @soggysouppp @hereandqueer6540 @poohkie90 @miarosalie11 @v1rtualsalvat10n @hypnotizedbyhood @webanglikethat @croucify @cumdnmp @ga33y3 @zeervzn @marzipanlvr @seesaw-it @raekensluver @ddlydevotion @hujirose @darleneslane @babydollfacedangel @withloveforlu @mxdnvghts @strawbxrryaxolotyl @bricapellan16

requested by @huly4a

[banananutmuffin28]

Thank you for taking one for the team! Since you are taking requests can you do a Se-mi x reader where reader is a part of Gi-hun's group and tries to get her to join the team?

A/N: (￣^￣ )ゞ Ofc ofc, more Se-Mi for the soul! I noticed you all really like her haha

Please, Come With Me—Player Se-Mi x GN! Player Reader

Se-Mi was an interesting girl.

You had seen her occasionally, but never really paid much attention to her. Sure, she was certainly attractive—you would be lying if you said that her short hair and many piercings hadn’t left you flustered the first time you laid eyes on her—but the girl quickly flew from your mind when you realized your life was at stake.

You couldn’t afford to die now, not when you had a loved one waiting for you on the other side.

But, during the Six-Legged Race, something happened that shifted your perception on Se-Mi.

As you stood there with Gi-Hun, waiting for the final people in your group to get into their respective teams, you noticed three men approaching Se-Mi.

The purple haired guy—who made it clear that his name was Thanos—smirked, looking up and down at Se-Mi before asking her to join his team. Nam-su or Nam-gyu—you couldn’t remember which—tried to get him to stop, but Thanos merely brushed him aside.

Of course, the way the men acted hadn’t thrown the thought of Se-Mi back into your orbit—it was what happened next.

Se-Mi seemed reluctant, tilting her head to the side as the beginnings of a grin formed on her lips. She didn’t seem at all impressed or intimidated by the fact that Thanos was a famous rapper. Rather, she looked amused.

“Ah, Thanos,” She started, her face growing wry, “Do you have all of the infinity stones?”

When you heard that, you couldn’t stop the giggle that burst from your lips.

Okay, Se-Mi has humor. You liked that.

After that exchange, you were more observant to the woman. You noticed how she had a type of fire inside her, one that couldn’t be put out easily by men like Nam-Gyu (or Nam-Su). And, you saw how used that very same fire to nurture the more vulnerable, like the boy who had refused to leave her side during the entire match.

She’s a good person. And she’s so pretty too.

Something peculiar bloomed inside you. It began from your chest, then spread to your collarbone, your neck, and then finally, your face.

You crossed your arms together, cheeks growing hot.

It would certainly be a shame of Se-Mi died. You wouldn’t mind helping her out a little if she needed it. In fact—

“Hey, are you listening to me?”

Gi-Hun’s gruff voice startled you from your thoughts, and you all but jumped back.

“W…what?”

He sighed and shook his head. You looked down, feeling like a kid about to hand their father their less than savory test score.

“I said, it is important that we closely observe the games so that we can note any strategies the other players use. It will be good for us.”

He turned his gaze to your direction, scooting his body closer to you.

“You shouldn’t be distracted by other things, not when you could die if you don’t do your part on time,” Gi-Hun said, before squinting his eyes. “What were you even looking at, anyways?”

You looked into your lap, feeling embarrassed.

“It was nothing!” You squeak, though it doesn’t sound convincing even to your ears.

Gi-Hun ignored you, craning his neck so that he could get a better view.

Your stomach sank as he started to grin.

“Ah, kid, were you staring at that cute girl with the piercings?”

The tips of your ears grew hot.

You debated on denying it, but knew that it would be of no use. You weren’t an idiot, you knew your body language gave it away eons ago.

Instead, you simply cleared your throat, turning your eyes back to the current race.

“Hey, what was that about observing the contestants of the race?”

Gi-Hun simply laughed, slapping your back hard enough to make your eyes water.

“Oh, don’t be shy, kid. Why, I remember how I felt the first time I met my ex-wife! I don’t know how I thought wooing her with a monkey would work…”

Letting out a groan, you covered your face with your hands.

Not this story again!

—

You decided you absolutely didn’t like Nam-Gyu.

He seemed to have it out for Se-Mi, choosing to constantly make snide comments about her to her face. Now, it wasn’t as if Se-Mi was utterly defenseless, as she would always stand her ground whenever she or Min-Su was insulted, but you still didn’t like seeing her have to be on edge so often.

You looked back to your crew, watching as Dae-ho told a joke you couldn’t quite hear. Jun-hee had doubled over laughing, spilling a bit of her milk onto the floor.

Se-Mi should be able to joke around and not have to constantly defend herself.

The boy she was protecting isn’t even trying to help her back.

You scowled, opening your milk carton with more force than necessary.

“Hey, you okay, kid?”

You didn’t even have to look back to know who it was. Instead, you frown, taking a swig at your milk carton before you said, “Hey, how would you feel if we had another member in this team?”

Gi-Hun blinked.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind.”

He turned back to the others.

“Hey, would you guys be okay if someone else joined us?”

“Heck yeah!” Dae-Ho screamed. “The more the merrier.”

As soon as those words left his lips, the another people whooped and cheered.

Gi-Hun nudged your shoulder, a smile on his face.

“I don’t think the others would mind, either. Think you can convince that girl with piercings to join us, though?”

Fuck.

At your startled expression, he let out a full belly laugh.

“Ah, I pieced a few things together. You don’t exactly have a great poker face, kid.”

You let out a small grumble, but felt relieved all the same.

At least you didn’t have two people to convince. Something told you that Se-Mi wasn’t going to be easily swayed.

Suddenly, a piece of bread was shoved in front of your face.

“Eat up, kid. I believe in you.”

—

You had to convince her. Now.

Your mouth fell open when you saw Se-Mi choose X. Now that she did that, it was more than likely that Thanos and his lackeys would be after her.

The only ally she had left was a boy who wouldn’t stand up for himself.

You tightened your fists. It would be dangerous for her to be alone tonight.

—

As the countdown for bedtime commenced, you quickly walked over to her, pretending to ignore the little thumbs-up Gi-Hun sent your way.

You couldn’t be distracted.

Se-Mi stood in the far right corner, the only indicator that it even was her being her lip piercing as it glimmered under the artificial light.

When you got closer, you put a hand in the air.

“Hey!”

She looked up from her conversation with Min-Su, startled. Her eyes seemed to narrow as you walked closer.

When the boy noticed you, he froze and quietly slunk behind her.

“Hey?”

Your heart thundered in your chest, and already you could feel doubt festering in your gut.

You pushed it to aside.

Clearing your throat, you put on your best smile and waved at her.

“Uhm, I was wondering if you would like to join my group. We’re—“

“Yeah, I know what time you’re in,” Se-Mi interrupted, eyed gliding to Gi-Hun. “I’m not interested. Min-Su and I are fine on our own.”

As she began to walk away, you could feel your chance to convince her dwindling. Hastily, you followed after.

“Wait, please!” You yell a little too loud, causing some of the players around you to give confused looks.

Se-Mi walked faster.

Cursing, you picked up your pace and tried to grab her arm.

She pushed you away.

“Is this why you were staring at me so often?” Se-Mi demanded, roughly pulling her arm away from you. She straightened up, crossing her arms together as she took a step towards you. “I don’t need your pity. I know what I signed up for when I voted X, and I’m wholly prepared to deal with the consequences.”

Despite the circumstances, you blushed.

“You noticed?”

She smiled, though it was more out of malice than humor.

“It was a bit hard not to when your eyes were glued to me, sweetheart.”

You knew the pet name was soaked in derision, but that didn’t stop your damned stomach from doing summersaults.

Determinedly, you ignored her words.

��I just want to help you, Se-Mi. You know how those guys treated you.”

She scowled.

“As I said before, I don’t need your charity. I am doing just fine with—“

“Please!”

The word burst out of your lips before you could stop it.

Se-Mi looked taken back. Behind her, you heard a soft gasp.

Fighting through your embarrassment, you continue onward.

“I stared at you for so long because I felt that you’re really pretty and I sorta-liked-how-you-stood-up-for-yourself.” The last half of the sentence was spoken in a rush.

“But when I offered you help, it’s not because I pity you, Se-Mi, it’s because I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Se-Mi raised an eyebrow. Her stance was more relaxed now, though her eyebrows were still furrowed.

“Why? We’re practically strangers.”

“Well…” You bit your lip. “I know that you probably have people who care for you outside the games, Se-Mi.”

You pointed a finger at yourself. “Hell, I do too. I’m only in this damned hellhole because I need to pay for my relative’s medical bills. They’re going to die if they don’t get it.”

You felt your eyes water.

“They’re…all I have left on this damned rock.”

Se-Mi exhaled softly. Her eyes were gentler now, and her lips pressed into a thin line. Hesitantly, she reached out to hold your hand.

You allowed it, curling your fingers around her hand.

“Se-Mi, there is no doubt that you are very strong. But, despite that, I don’t think you should get needlessly injured if you have a way out.”

You placed your other hand on the back of your neck.

“It’s not pity. Think of it more as…an alliance.”

As Se-Mi chewed her lip, your eyes traveled down to your joined hands. You focused on the warmth that radiated from her, and pressed against the callouses on her knuckles.

You knew she had been through a lot, even before she had stepped foot into death game.

Finally, she blew out a breath.

“Oh all right, I’ll join your little team,” She said at last, pulling her hand back so she could nudge you with her elbow. “I know you won’t stop badgering me about it if I refuse.”

She glanced at the boy behind her. “Min-Su, what do you think?”

He only gave a shy nod as his response.

You grinned.

You did it!

Before you could drop yourself, you practically tackled her, enveloping the woman into your embrace.

She froze for a moment, then returned your hug, chuckling.

“Thank you!”

Amusedly, Se-Mi shook her head. “Whose life are we saving again?”

Too elated to be embarrassed by her comment, you simply let go and reached out your hand.

“Come on!” You chirped.

Se-Mi took your hand.

“Lead the way, sweetheart. Oh, and by the way,” She said, drawing out the last syllable in a way that only foretold mischief.

You motioned for her to continue, trying to steel yourself.

Endearingly, Se-Mi pinched your cheek.

“What was that earlier about you finding me pretty?”

[coolemmasulivan2]

There For You

Pairing: Mason Mount x Physician!Reader

Summary: You’re a physician at the club who’s grown close to Mason. However, after he suffers another injury, he begins to distance himself, leaving you confused and unsure of how to help him.

Word count: 2729

I'll be there when you need me most I'll be there if you're ever alone Together, we can grow old I can't leave you

It was your first day back at the training camp after two weeks off, and your stomach twisted in pain as you scanned the list of injured players and Mason’s name was at the top.

You hated seeing his name there. He’d been through so much already, and every setback felt like life was testing him a little too harshly. Ever since moving to the club, he’d spent more time in your office than any player should. It seemed like he couldn’t catch a break.

In those long hours spent tending to his injuries and working on his recovery plans, the two of you had built a beautiful friendship, not because he was a regular in your office, but because of who he was.

Even when he was hurting, Mason had a way of lightening the mood. He always managed a smile. It was the kind of smile that said, I’ll get through this. Somehow, I always do.

Maybe that’s why, little by little, you’d fallen for him. It wasn’t just his courage or his never-quit attitude, it was the way he smiled, even when life knocked him down.

The night before, you had watched the game against City, and you didn’t need to be there in person to know it had happened again. The moment you saw Mason sitting on the field, head down in defeat, your heart broke for him.

"No! Bloody hell! Someone get this guy to a witch." Your dad shouted at the TV, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Someone’s playing with his voodoo doll!"

"Dad!" You called out, shooting him a look as your little nephew that was Mason's fan sank on the sofa.

"What? It’s true!" He replied, shrugging as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. The United scarf around his neck swayed as he turned back to the screen. "The guy’s got more than bad luck."

You opened the door and stepped into the medical office. Mason was already sitting on the examination bed, his head down, eyes fixed on his hands as they opened and closed into tight fists.

"Hey, Mason!" You greeted softly.

His head shot up, his expression briefly surprised. "Hey!" He said, his voice deeper than usual. He didn’t smile like he normally did. "I thought you were still on holiday."

"They don't let me have three weeks off during the Premier League." You said with a small chuckle as you pulled on a pair of blue gloves. "And it’s a good thing they don't Let's have a look?"

He didn’t say anything, just nodded and laid back on the bed, stretching out his legs.

As you started examining his leg, you kept your tone light, hoping to break through his mood. "You've been through worse, right? I mean, you're basically indestructible at this point." That earned you nothing. No laugh, no smile, not even a glance. Just silence.

You focused on your work, carefully testing for swelling and tender areas. Mason didn't flinch, didn't make a sound, but the tension in his jaw told you everything you needed to know.

You sighed softly, stepping back. "Okay."

"It's bad, isn't it?" He asked, his tone clipped, as though he already knew the answer.

You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. "It's not great." You admitted, keeping your voice steady. "The scans will give us the full picture, but you'll need to rest for a few weeks, at least."

At that, Mason let out a short, bitter laugh. "A few weeks. Of course." He shook his head and sat up, his movements stiff and frustrated.

"I know it's frustrating." You said gently, trying to reach him. "But we'll make sure you heal properly, and you'll come back even stronger. You've done it before."

"Yeah." He said flatly, his tone ice-cold. "And look where that got me."

The sharpness of his words stung, catching you off guard. You glanced up, meeting his gaze. His face was hard, his usual warmth replaced with a wall of indifference.

"You're allowed to be upset." You said softly. "This is a tough break, but it's not the end. You're one of the strongest people I know, Mason."

He let out a small, humorless smile that never reached his eyes. "Thanks for the pep talk." He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'll add it to my collection."

Before you could respond, Mason pushed himself off the bed, grabbed his phone from the desk and walked out of the office without a second glance.

You stood there, speechless, the weight of his frustration and pain settling heavily in the room.

"So, he just left?" Your best friend asked, setting her beer down on the table with a thud.

"Yeah!" You said, still in disbelief. "I mean… I get it. He's angry and frustrated with everything going on, but I... I was just trying to help him." You took a long sip of your beer, then lowered your voice to a whisper. "I just want to help him."

Your friend gave you a knowing smile, leaning back in her chair. "You're so down bad for him."

You groaned, running your hands through your hair. "I know."

You groaned, running your hands through your hair. "I know."

Your friend chuckled. "Honestly, I don't blame you. The guy's gorgeous. Moody, apparently, but gorgeous."

"It's not just that. It's… He's been through so much, and he still manages to stay so positive. He works harder than anyone I've ever seen. He deserves more than this."

"And yet, he shut you out."

"Yeah." You sighed, slumping back in your chair. "I don’t think it's personal. I think he's just… overwhelmed. But it still stung, you know? We've talked so much before. I thought I..." You paused, trying to find the words. "I thought I could be someone he leaned on."

Your friend reached across the table, squeezing your hand. "He will, eventually. Sometimes guys like him need time. Doesn't mean you're not important to him."

You gave her a grateful look. "I hope you're right."

The next morning, you were in your office early, sipping coffee and organizing your notes. You had barely slept, your mind replaying the tension with Mason over and over.

With a sigh, you shook off the memory and focused on the task at hand, jotting down follow-up plans for a few players. The knock on your door startled you.

"Come in!" You called, glancing up.

Your coworker, James, stepped in, clipboard in hand. "Morning." He said, his tone casual but hesitant, like he was bracing himself for something.

"Morning." You replied, eyeing him curiously. "What's up?"

He hesitated for a moment, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Uh… just wanted to give you a heads-up. Mason requested to transfer to me for his treatment plan."

You froze. "What?"

James gave a small shrug. "He asked me this morning. Said he wanted to switch."

"Why?" You asked, the word coming out sharper than you intended.

"I don't know." James said carefully "He didn't say much, just that he thought it would be better for him."

You stared at him, stunned. "Better for him? I don't understand. Why would he…" You trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

James sighed. "Look, I didn't want to get into it. I know you two are friends, you have a close relationship, but If you want to know why, you're going to have to ask him."

For a moment, you just sat there, trying to make sense of what you’d just heard.

"I see." You said finally, your voice quieter now. "Thanks for letting me know, James."

James gave you a sympathetic look. "Hey, don't take it personally, okay? He's going through a lot. You know how players can get when they're injured. It's probably just his way of dealing with it."

"Yeah." You murmured, forcing a small smile. "I get it."

But as James left, you found yourself staring at your desk, Mason’s name at the top of your notes. Why didn’t he want your help anymore?

Mason was sitting on the bench in the locker room, phone in hand, as he responded to a text from his brother. He barely looked up when Bruno walked in.

"Hey!" Bruno said casually, shrugging off his jacket with an air of ease.

"Hey!" Mason replied, his eyes still glued to his phone. "How was training?"

Bruno snorted, tugging on a clean shirt. "Good." He said shortly, clearly uninterested in lingering on the topic. Instead, he glanced over at Mason. "James told me you switched to him for physio."

Mason shrugged, leaning back. "Yeah. Figured it's better this way."

Bruno raised an eyebrow as he sat down, pulling off his trainers. "Better for you or for her?" His tone was light, but his words hit home.

Mason's jaw tightened as he turned to look at Bruno. "What?"

"You and Y/n seemed close." Bruno said. "She's solid, actually gives a crap about us, which, let's be real, doesn't happen every day."

"James is solid too."

Bruno held up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Just saying, she might be wondering why you're icing her out." Mason didn’t answer, his gaze dropping to the floor. Bruno sighed as he stood, slinging his towel over his shoulder. "Whatever you're running from, just make sure you're not pushing the wrong people away, mate."

Mason stayed silent, the weight of Bruno's words settling over him. He kept his head down, listening to the sound of Bruno's footsteps as he disappeared toward the showers.

A week had passed, and you still hadn't managed to speak to Mason in person. You'd tried texting him multiple times, asking if something was wrong, if you'd upset him somehow, but he always left you on read.

Today, you were determined to put an end to the silence. It was your day off, but you knew Mason would be at the camp. So, you drove there, parking directly in front of his car and waiting.

As usual, Mason was one of the last to leave, even though he hadn't been training with the team. He emerged from the building, his bag over his shoulder and his coat zipped all the way up against the cold, as he made his way toward his car.

You took a deep breath and stepped out of your car. He didn't notice you at first, his focus elsewhere, but as you moved closer, emerging from the shadows, he froze on his tracks.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you standing there under the dim parking lot lights.

You suddenly felt nervous and exposed. You swallowed the lump in your throat. Slowly, both of you began to move, closing the distance until you were close enough to reach out and touch him.

"Hi?" You shot back. An avalanche of words was threatening to tumble out. "That's it? That's all you've got to say? Hi?" Mason opened his mouth, but you didn’t give him the chance. "No, Mason, I don't want your 'Hi.' I want answers. I want to know why. Why did you ask to be transferred to James? Why have you been ignoring me?" You kept going, every bottled-up thought spilling out. Mason stood there, silent, his gaze fixed on you. Even in anger, you were still cute. "Mason?" You demanded, pulling him out of his trance.

He blinked, suddenly lifting his eyes from your lips to meet yours. "What?"

You shook your head, letting out a sigh. "Have I done something wrong?"

Mason's swallowed hard, his gaze breaking away from yours. "You haven't done anything wrong, Y/n!" He said quietly.

Your chest tightened at his words. "Then why?" Your voice cracked, trembling under the weight of your emotions. "I thought we were friends, Mason."

Mason let out a sarcastic chuckle. "That's the problem!"

You furrowed your eyebrows. "What?"

"I-- I don't want to be your friend." He said, his voice just enough to make you freeze. "I don't want to be your friend because I want to be so much more! I want to be the one who carries you to bed when you fall asleep on the sofa. I want to be the one you ask to open jars, the one whose hoodies you steal. I want to be the person who holds you when you cry and makes you laugh when you need it. I want to take care of you—not the other way around." His words knocked the wind out of you.

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. You weren't one to be left speechless, but somehow Mason had managed it.

"I... do you like me?" You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mason bit his lip, almost nervously. "Was that not obvious?"

"But… why would you push me away? Wait--" Your eyes widened. "Did you do this because you were my patient?"

Mason let out a long sigh, his breath visible in the chilly Manchester air. "I'm tired, Y/n." He said, his voice low and pained. "You've seen me at my worst since the day we met. And I hate that. I hate that you've only ever seen this version of me: the injured, broken version."

"Mase--"

"No!" He interrupted, his voice cracking. "I feel like everything's going wrong. I feel like I’m failing as a footballer, as a person. And I hate that all you've seen is that failure."

You reached for him, your hands trembling as they rested on his arms. "Mason, listen to me." You said firmly. "The last thing I see you as is a failure." He turned his face away, but you cupped his face, gently forcing him to meet your gaze. "You’re the strongest, most hardworking person I know. Maybe you’ve had more setbacks than most, but you work three times harder than anyone else. I’m your physician, yes, but I’m also your friend. And I just want to help you. I want to be there for you, no matter what."

For a moment, he looked at you like you had hung the moon and stars. His hand rose hesitantly, cupping your cheek as if he were afraid you might disappear.

Slowly, his face leaned closer to yours, his lips brushing yours gently. When you didn’t pull away, your lips parted, and he kissed you.

The kiss was soft, hesitant at first, then deeper, carrying the weight of everything unsaid until now. For that moment, there was no cold air, no frustration, no confusion, just the warmth of his lips against yours.

When you finally broke apart, your breaths mingled in the frosty air. His forehead rested lightly against yours, his eyes searching yours as if trying to read you.

"I'm sorry." Mason whispered.

"For what?" You asked softly.

"For pushing you away. For being such a mess." He admitted, his eyes dropping to the ground. "You deserve someone who's got it all together, not someone who's barely holding on."

You shook your head. "Mason, no one has it all together. We're all just doing our best. And you're not a mess, you're human. You're allowed to feel frustrated, to have bad days. But you don't have to go through it alone."

"You make me want to be better." He said quietly.

"And you make me want to fight harder." You replied with a shy smile.

He pulled you into a tight embrace and you burried your face in his neck. The weight of his struggles seemed to melt away. The two of you stood there for a while, wrapped in each other's arms. When you pulled apart, he looked down at you and smiled.

You gave him a gentle smile, tucking your hands into your pockets, suddenly feeling shy. "So… go home, rest, and we'll talk... tomorrow? Properly this time."

"Properly." He repeated with a nod.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The night air was cold, but the warmth of the moment made it easy to ignore. Finally, you took a small step back as you said goodbye, offering him one last glance before turning to leave.

"Y/n." His voice stopped you in your tracks.

You turned. "Yes?"

He hesitated. "Do you… do you want to have dinner? Like... today!"

A smile spread across your face. "I'd love that."

[daniiiboo]

a new years kiss - qh43

summary- Your friend dragged you to a party, even though you really didn't want to. You end up meeting quinn and sharing a news years kiss.

trigger warnings - talks about drinking, some flirty comments

dani's thoughts - kind of a late new years fic, but hey, at least I got one! sorry about the bad summary, I'm very tired rn!

word count - 1.01k

The music resonated through the walls of the modern downtown Vancouver penthouse, the deep bass line intermingling with laughter and the loud rings of margarita glasses. You tightened and squeezed the hem of your dazzling black dress which now felt both too short and too tight in a sea of glamorous partygoers. It was your girl Rachel who dragged you here, and she'd promised a "legendary" New Years' Eve party, which you really didn't believe.

You'll thank me later," she'd promised, pulling you out of the Uber and into the elevator up to a skyscraper-high flat.

You'd stood near the kitchen, nursing your champagne and people-watching, when Rachel seemed to disappear. You felt a little lost, a little out of place, until a familiar face caught your eye across the room. Quinn Hughes. The Canucks' defenseman and local hockey idol was in a jovial mood outside the giant floor-to-ceiling windows, laughing about one of his friends' remarks. He was in a smart navy blue-coloured button-up shirt and dark jeans, well, his typically good looks remained even when he was in such a formal atmosphere.

You weren’t a die-hard hockey fan, but you’d watched enough games with your family to know who Quinn was. And maybe you’d developed a tiny crush on him after seeing him in those post-game interviews, his shy smile and understated humor stealing the spotlight. There, in the flesh, to look at him had the effect of flipping your stomach upside down, which had nothing to do with the champagne.

"Oh my god, is that Quinn Hughes?" a voice to your left whispered. You swivelled around and saw two women eyeing him with chuckles. 

"Yeah, he's so cute," the other chattered.

You saw your cheeks flush and hastily turned back to your drink. No way was someone like him going to notice someone like you in a room full of gorgeous, confident people. However, as if in a protest against all reason, his eyes moved across the room stopping on you. For a moment, you were convinced you'd imagined it. But no, his eyes lingered, his expression softening into a curious smile.

Your heart was racing. What was he smiling at? You looked back over your shoulder to discover whether someone else out there was watching your back, but nobody was watching you. When you turned back, Quinn was working his way toward you, weaving through the crowd with an easy confidence that only made him more intimidating.

Hey," he said, his voice smooth but warm, like you'd known each other for years. "I don't think we've met. I'm Quinn."

You blinked, momentarily starstruck. Up close, he was even more striking. His dark hair was a bit tousled, and his hazel eyes shone under the light of the chandelier that hung over him.

"I'm Y/N," you managed to say in return, trying not to sound as flustered as you felt.

"Y/N," he repeated, his smile spreading. "Nice to meet you. You here with friends?"

"Yeah, my friend Rachel dragged me here. She said I needed to get out more," you said with a small laugh. "What about you? Are you friends with the host?"

He nodded. "Yeah, kind of. I've been to a few of his parties before. They're always… a lot."

Well, that's one interpretation," you said, scanning the extravagantly decorated room and the host of people dressed to the nines. Right, are you sort of a New Years' Eve party type of person?

He shrugged, leaning casually against the counter. 

"Not really. I usually keep it low-key. But a couple of my teammates got me to go out tonight.

"Well, it's definitely not low-key here," you said, gesturing to the packed living room where people were dancing and shouting over the music.

Quinn chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. 

"No, it's not. But it's not so bad now."

You raised an eyebrow. 

"Now?"

He tilted his head, his smile turning slightly shy.

 "Now that I've met you."

Your breath caught. Was he… flirting with you? Before you could overthink it, Rachel appeared out of nowhere, tugging on your arm.

"Y/N, they're starting the countdown soon! Oh, hi," she said, noticing Quinn. Her pupils dilated a bit in recognition but she did not panic.

"Hi," Quinn said politely, giving her a nod.

"I'll catch up with you in a minute," you said to Rachel, who raised an eyebrow knowingly before turning and melting back into the crowd.

"Looks like we've got a few minutes until midnight," Quinn said, glancing over at the clock on the wall. "You want to head outside? The view's pretty great from the balcony."

"Sure," you said, trying to sound casual despite the fact that your heart was practically doing cartwheels.

The two of you went onto the big balcony, where the fresh night air was a breath of fresh air after the heat of the party. The city lay in wait, a ocean of shimmering lights. Fireworks started going off in the distance, bursts of color lighting up the sky.

"Wow," you breathed. "This is incredible."

Quinn rested against the railing next to me, with his shoulder touching mine. "Yeah, it is."

At that instant, the two of you stood motionless as you absorbed everything. The noise from inside was muffled and the city seemed almost peaceful despite the celebrations. And the countdown started, voices from the party echoed onto the balcony.

"Ten… nine… eight…

You looked at Quinn, already staring back at you. His face was soft, almost hesitant, weighing something over. Your heart was racing as the countdown went on.

"Seven… six… five…"

"Y/N," he whispered, leaning in closer. "Can I…"

"Four… three… two…

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. And then, as the crowd inside shouted, "One! Happy New Year!" his lips met yours in a soft, tentative kiss that made your entire body feel weightless.

As he recoiled the reddest of his cheeks were visible, grinning sheepishly toward you. "Happy New Year, Y/N."

You grinned, your heart soaring. "Happy New Year, Quinn."

[weirdocat83]

Idea for timebomb that would def be hard to pull off but incredibly funny, jinx becomes a firelight instead of ending up with silco, but Ekko has no fucking clue.

Instead of staying in one place and getting adopted by silco, powder runs off and hides. She forages on the streets for a while. Maybe even a few years. Then she hears of the firelights or maybe one of them picks her up off the streets. The thing is, she knows it’s run by Ekko. So she hides her identity. She already saw how Vi reacted to everyone dying and it was her fault so she doesn’t even want to know how Ekko would react. So she hides her identity. Maybe she dyes her hair or maybe she just covers up a LOT but either way, some people think it’s strange but it’s not like they have any room to question it. I’d imagine her voice is quite identifiable so she just elects Not To Talk until she gets her hands on a voice changer. After getting a masked outfit like we see most of the firelights in, she just starts wearing it everywhere.

She ends up really blending in and making friends despite her issues and in some cases, because of them. She’s definitely not the same as AU powder from S2E7 but similar. Definitely more chaotic and driven. She even talks to Ekko and re-befriends him. Powder would be seen as a more secretive person that doesn’t speak much, if at all. That being said, she definitely communicates her intentions and what she is going to do. A lot. She’s a very energetic person so I can’t imagine her staying silent about whatever she’s excited about, whether it be her latest invention or a successful mission.

And while she initially hid her identity out of fear of rejection (and even later still does to an extent) as they become closer it just becomes increasingly harder to bring up the fact that she is powder… especially when her and Ekko become closer and he starts confiding in her…

For a nice twist, you could have either Scar or Silco knowing. Silco could hold her identity over her head and have her make some tough decisions. What would she do to keep her identity hidden?

Scar on the other hand, is very close to Ekko, and knowing would create friction between not only Powder and Scar but also Scar and Ekko. Scar advising powder to tell Ekko and possibly helping her plan how exactly to go about that. Meanwhile Ekko would be wondering what they’re sneaking off to do and maybe he’d overhear and find out that they know where powder is but not who powder is.

The main thing that got me thinking about this idea is just the compilation of moments where powder ALMOST got caught and just BARELY was able to keep the secret. Also potentially dropping hints around the undercity that Powder is alive but never enough to really tell where she is (right next to him). Also Ekko being all like “Powder was my best friend and the only person who really Understood. I had a crush on her. She meant so much to me, I wish I had the opportunity to tell her how I felt and still feel.” Meanwhile powder, right next to him, is blushing under her mask and short circuiting because WHAT. And trying to act like she is still functioning as Ekko is continuing because if she showed a reaction it might give her away.

[sunkeji]

Surviving NRC life with Grim

A bunch of random headcanons

You offered grim actual cat food once. He stared at you, then proceeded to shove that disgusting shit to the floor. "Do I look like some common household cat to you?"

You and Grim are seated at the front of almost all your classes for the first semester at least. Seated close to all the teachers so that they keep an eye on you. Between the magicless student with minimal understanding of the magical world and the fire-breathing, short-tempered blue beast who can't follow instructions for the death of him... having someone to look out for you guys is a must to ensure you don't blow anything up (including yourselves).

During the first term History exam, while you were still struggling in catching up to your studies from written to practical, you didn't have much time to study everything thoroughly, so you could only skim through quickly.

During the History exam, anything after your first paragraph had in fact long deviated from the actual plot of events; you were literally rewriting History 😭.

When you were done, you handed in your paper and waited for Trein to mark it. He took the paper from you, and as soon as he read the first paragraph, he knew to expect a new version of the history of Twisted Wonderland.

The day you got all your exam papers back, you'd never seen so many red crosses on a paper before, and at the top of your paper, "Good effort" was written. It's nice to know he's giving you a chance to better your grade next term 🥲. Compared to Grim, your paper is yards better than what he had written. 

As very broke students, sometimes you don't have enough pocket money for extra snacks so when you're in the mood for some snacks, desperation pushes you to take up odd jobs around the school for some spare change. Sometimes it's helping Sam out at his shop with unpacking inventory and sometimes it's being 'rent-a-friend' to the Tweel brothers. (Truth is you're closer to being a ragdoll toy for them than an actual person😭)

You once told Grim that you couldn't afford to pay the waterbills this month so you guys would have to shower in the rain.

Later in the afternoon during a rainshower, you actually saw Grim outside under the rain with his soap bottle next to him.

"HAHAHA! You actually believed that?"

As retaliation, he had scratched away at your couch 💸💸. It was a costly joke but kinda worth it for his reaction 😔

[animemakesmeanxiouss]

Just a prank.

TW: Lots of words, discrimination, abuse, scars.

The heat was getting to everyone in the dorms, we were all sweating bullets. It was too hot to go anywhere, or even do anything.

We were all in as little clothes as we could possibly be without being naked or inappropriate. The girls in teeny tiny shorts and tops ranging from bikinis, crop tops and tank tops.

I, myself was in a tank top, too afraid that Mineta would pounce if I were in anything else despite knowing that the other guys would kick his ass and leave him on the coatrack if he tried anything on any of us. At least, that's what I told the other girls when they asked.

Most of us were in the common area because that's where most of the fans were and my, what a sight it was, with the majority of the guys walking around completely shirtless.

Being in a hero school had many perks, including the intense dedication everyone had to their training, leaving their muscles so incredibly defined and on a scorcher like today, glistening with sweat.

Bakugou looked to be asleep on the long coach in front of the television with Kirishima wide awake at the other end, where his feet lay and Kaminari beside him but on the single person couch. They spoke in hushed whispers, my sensitive ears perked up at what sounded dangerously similar to my name so when the redhead looked over at me, I raised an eyebrow and he gave a nervous smile I grew more suspicious.

Whatever, it's too hot to care and those two dorks are harmless.

Sauntering over to the kitchen, I heard them hurriedly whisper something like "Now now now, she's in the kitchen!"

I rolled my eyes, curious about what exactly they were trying to pull, and opened the freezer and pulled out the bucket of ice cubes I'd prepared last night.

Suddenly there was a really nice smell infiltrating my nose. It smelled..familiar. But not in a food kind of way, it electrified my skin and I needed to know what it was and where it was coming from.

I went around the room with the bucket of ice cubes, offering it to my friends and classmates in hopes it would help them cool down and as they graciously accepted, I heard a sleepy Bakugou.

"What the fuck are you guys rolling on me?"

The closer I got to the trio, the more potent the scent became, and soon enough, I lost myself.

I was rubbing my nose happily against the source of the scent, I didn't even know what it was or when I managed to get so close to it until I looked up and saw Bakugou staring at me in shock, face red, along with almost everyone else in the room.

After a moment, I realized what position I was in.

I had climbed onto Bakugou's lap and was...rubbing my nose all over him...purring.

My face turned red and I quickly got off of him, stumbling backwards and nearly falling after tripping against the coffee table until he grabbed me by the wrist to catch me.

What the fuck is going on? I thought, then noticed muffled laughter coming from my right. Bakugou noticed it too.

"What the fuck did you guys do?" he asked, angrily.

They couldn't contain it anymore and burst out laughing, tears pouring from their eyes.

Denki managed to catch his breath for a moment and tossed something our way, Bakugou catching it effortlessly.

He opened his fist to reveal a ball. It looked like a small bouncy ball, covered in small seed-like material, possibly dried herbs.

I slowly, and carefully, sniffed at the ball while trying to retain my composure and immediately I realized what it was.

Kirishima spoke up and grabbed his backpack from beside the couch, pulling out a resealable plastic bag with 7 more of the little herb balls, the scent increasing in my nostrils tenfold, forcing me to tense so I didn't lose control again.

"We got a great deal on them," he laughed.

This was cruel. I couldn't look at them. My ears lay flat in fear and hurt, while Bakugou continued to look between me and his crew.

"What is this?" he asked me, softly.

"Catnip," I whispered, tears pricking at my eyes as I looked up at him.

His own eyes widened in realization and the others around had similar reactions of gasps, disappointed sighs, and even a few oh no's, especially from the other heteromorphs in the class.

"We sure got you guys good, huh," Denki said as the two men rose to their feet and began toward us.

HISS

That stopped them in their tracks with confused, and maybe even scared, looks on their faces, before I pounced over the couch and escaped to my room to cry in peace.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What just happened?" Kirishima asked, Denki nodding along in confusion.

"You're idiots, that's what happened," Bakugou replied, picking the bits of catnip off his body, "You seriously thought rubbing catnip all over my neck and chest was a good idea?"

"We thought it'd be a fun way for you two to break the ice, since, you know," the redhead explained, while giving him a knowing look.

"Yeah, well, you just made things way worse," Bakugou grumbled, about to curse them more when Shoji stepped in.

"Why don't you go wash that off and we will explain," the quiet man said, with the other heteromorphs behind him, nodding.

Bakugou grumbled again, this time in agreement, knowing he could never know what they'd gone through or express it in the way they could, as he walked away to shower off the remaining dried herbs from his body.

The two troublemakers sat on the couch, ready to understand what exactly was so wrong about their "harmless" prank, the heteromorphs sitting all around them, ready to discuss an issue they know all too well.

"Well, there's no simple way to put this but let's start with this. She's new, guys. She's still getting to know all of us and it's really scary to join a community where 20-something people have been a community since high school and you're the new one. The only new one," he began, "and being a heteromorph at that. It's scary when you don't know what to expect, how the others will treat you. You know how we've been discriminated against."

Eijiro and Denki began, "But we weren't discrim-"

"You were," Mina cut them off, raising her hand to stop them from speaking, "Not in the way most people think of, but you were. You used her cat features against her."

"You dehumanized her," Tokoyami continued, arms folded, "you treated her like an animal instead of your equal. Imagine if we went to lunch together and instead of be able to get regular food, I was given bird seed."

That seemed to strike a cord with the boys, their eyes widening and covering their mouths, guilt written all over their faces as they looked at each other realizing how badly they fucked up.

"That's not to say you're bad guys," Kouji expressed, "Or that these jokes can never be made."

"But she's not at that level of trust with any of us, yet," Ojira said, "Not even with those of us who are in the same boat as her."

"It all takes time," Mina finished, "and, well, after this "prank", it'll take even more. But before we know, I'm sure she'll be making you charge her phone, Denki, and cracking walnuts on your arm, Eiji," she laughed.

"She doesn't like walnuts," Bakugou interrupted, drying his hair from the shower he returned from.

Mina rolled her eyes at him, and returned her gaze to the two guys currently in the doghouse. They looked around at their friends, who took the time to explain to them what they did wrong and how it hurt you, and thanked them graciously. The others who had sat back, silently listening and absorbing the lesson Kirishima and Kaminari were given, thought carefully about what their friends may have experienced based on their appearances alone, taking on a whole new perspective and gaining a deeper respect for them, bringing the entire class even closer together, until-

"What do we do?" Denki asked, guiltily.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I woke up sweating in my bed after crying myself to sleep. Feeling all gross and sticky, I made the decision to go shower, grabbing clothes to change into as well as toiletries, and was about to make my way to the bathroom.

My heart still hurt from the day's events and I didn't want to face anyone yet, so I leaned against the door to listen and see if anyone was nearby or if I could make it without having to deal with anyone. The only sounds were coming from down the hall, where the kitchen and living area were. I lay my ears flat against the door to try and hear more, but the sound of hushed speaking and fans whirring stayed in that place.

I gently opened my door and quietly made my way to the shower as quickly as possible, hoping nobody would hear me and luckily, did not run into anyone.

The shower was pleasant, starting off at a decently warm temperature until I got used to the water and slowly made it colder to get rid of the sweat caused by the heat and cool off.

Once I was feeling refreshed, I changed into a fresh pajama set, another pair of shorts with a tank top, and made my way back to my room as quickly and quietly as I came.

Climbing back into bed, I sat against the pillows and the headboard and thought about what came next. How was I going to approach any of my classmates again after this? They all just think I'm some dumb fucking cat who can't handle some goddamn catnip.

Knock knock

Oh shit. What now?

"It's Mina and Shoji," came a muffled voice before slowly seeing the knob turn and a pink head a hair pop through.

"Can we come in?" she asked softly. I couldn't even bear to look at her, so I just nodded.

In case the rest of her pink self and behind followed the tall quiet man until they both sat on the bed, giving me enough distance to feel safe but close enough to feel their concern.

"How are you?" she asked.

I gave a small shrug and clutched a pillow to my chest, still unable to meet their eyes.

She sighed and grabbed one of my hands, "Eijiro and Denki are so dumb. So so dumb. But they had no idea, they thought it was a silly little prank."

Shoji continued, "We explained everything to them and now that they understand, they feel terrible and want to apologize but asked us to talk to you first in case you weren't ready. Can they come in?"

I looked up at the two, warily, and gave a slight nod, not sure if this was a good idea. Shoji called out for them to come in, and a bit of a ruckus ensued.

First, Bakugou came into view dragging stuff and quickly (and roughly) tossed it onto the floor.

"Ouch, Bakugou! We were coming in here anyway!" the redhead complained.

"Yeah, we didn't need you to throw us!" Denki whined.

"Shut up and get to apologizing, idiots," he replied, before looking over at you and giving a slight nod of acknowledgement as he leaned against the doorframe.

The two men grumbled and instead of getting on their feet, they were both on their knees and bowed their heads as they began to apologize.

"We are so incredibly sorry, " Denki began, "we were just trying to pull a little prank on you and Bakugou to get you guys talking."

Bakugou scoffed behind them

"We didn't know how disrespectful it was to you until the others told us," Kirishima said, "Or how hurtful. We consider you one of us and thought it would be a funny story that'd all laugh at later on."

"Again we are so sorry, " they pleaded, "and will do whatever we can to make it up to you." They bowed as they ended their speech.

I looked over them and could see in their eyes how genuine they were in their feelings, and how awful they felt. Then shifted my gaze over to Mina and Shoji, knowing that it was my choice to forgive and move on or not.

I reached my hand out to caress Shoji's masked face, know underneath it would be several scars, wondering if I should show them just how badly they hurt me. Would they really understand?

He nodded sadly, knowing how vulnerable I was about to be.

I sighed and stood, looking back at the three guys in front of us.

"I accept your apology, " I said softly, "but I want to show you all something."

Everyone, except for Shoji, got a curious look on their face as I unzipped my shorts and began to fold them down a bit.

"I'm not stripping, so don't even think that," I said sharply and they nodded.

Then I lifted my tanktop until it was above my belly button.

Their eyes widened at the sight of deep, jagged scar going from my naval deep into my pelvic region and even further below my shorts than I was willing to display.

"When I was a kid, I was homeschooled because my parents feared what people might do. They had heard that a young heteromorph boy had been attacked by people after he had saved a young girl from drowning, all because of his appearance, " I explained, reaching out for Shoji's masked face again and he leaned into my hand, "He lived not too far from me, and I recently found out he was in my class here."

"After they got him, there was a small mob in our area, hunting down heteromorphs to try and scare us into leaving. Most of us didn't want to, but even those that didn't couldn't afford to so we formed a small little community watch. That way, whenever the mob approached someone would warn us and we'd all hide until they left."

"One day, I had been napping in my bed and usually when that happened, my parents shut the blinds and closed the door and I knew it was time to hide. Unfortunately, my parents had gone to the shops so they didn't know about the warning that day, and I was in too deep of a sleep to hear it."

"I woke up from my nap and looked around the house for my parents, not being able to find them, I went outside to the front yard, thinking they might be gardening or having tea."

"Instead, it was the mob. They saw my ears and tail and started closing in on me, saying things like 'Don't you know cats are an invasive species?' and 'Guess we're gonna have to perform a TNR on this kitten.' before a couple of them grabbed me and held me down"

"TNR?" Bakugou questioned. I didn't realize he had gotten closer.

I let out a shakey breath before I answered.

"Trap. Neuter. Release." I couldn't stop the few tears that had escaped.

Again, Mina, Denki, and Eiji all gasped in shock again while Shoji gently squeezed my hand for reassurance.

"So they sterilized you? They sterilized a child?" The blonde seethed in anger.

"They tried," I replied softly, "Luckily for me, they weren't as smart as they thought. The cut through many layers of skin and fat, but didn't manage to get to any organs before my parents and several others arrived with law enforcement and a medical team."

I gently traced the raised scar I still had displayed while giving them a moment to process everything I just said. There was a long moment of silence and then, when I looked up, they all had tears in their eyes too.

"We are so sorry," Kirishima said, follow by Denki's, "We will do everything to make it up to you. We'll show you we aren't like those monsters, we promise."

"I know you're not, and I appreciate your apologies. More often than not, people say we're overreacting," I said as I gave them each a hug, followed by Mina, and Shoji, who gave me a very tight squeeze followed by a soft proud of you.

"There isn't a single thing you overreacted to," Bakugou muttered, with his jaw clenched and avoiding my eyes.

"Thank you. All of you." Everyone stood up to leave, except for Bakugou who had never sat down, and looked to me to lead them back out into the open and out of my room that felt like a radiator at this point.

"I'll be there in a bit, I just need to recharge my mind a bit," sending them away, "Could you stay for a minute, Bakugou?"

He hesitated, but did as I asked and let the others leave before closing my bedroom door and standing awkwardly.

I beckoned him to sit on the bed with me, which he did, again awkwardly.

"I'm really sorry," he began before I could even say anything.

"What? What are you sorry for?" It was clear he had no idea what was happening, and he even took part in educating the two boys and getting them to apologize.

"If I'd have known they were going to do some stupid shit like that just to get us talking, I would've killed them before they even went shopping for the damn things"

Oh. He feels responsible.

"Bakugou, you have nothing to apologize for. You've done so much for me today, I actually wanted to thank you."

His eyes widened in surprise, which was somewhat expected.

"But I wanted to ask you something. Why were they so intent on getting us to talk. What did they mean when they wanted to 'break the ice' between us?"

His eyes widened even more, although I didn't even think it was possible, followed by his face turning a bright shade of pink and he stuttered to respond before settling on a they're just being idiots.'

"I think the worst part of it all," I chuckled, "is that I really love catnip."

Bakugou stared for a moment before giving a small chuckle himself and smirking, "I could tell. You were enjoying yourself quite a bit."

This time I could feel my own face turn bright pink before he made thinks a bit serious again.

"So...you and Shoji are a thing?"

I blinked a couple of times before understanding what he meant and explaining that no. If anything, we were more like siblings, bonded through shared trauma and experiences, with scars to prove it.

"The scar I share with him isn't as noble as yours though, being through the war," I said as I gently touched the one on his face

"Yes it is," he countered, "People just don't know as much about the war you guys are fighting," leaning his face further into my hand. We sat there in comfortable silence for a few minutes, taking eachother in while still holding his face in my hand, running my thumb over the evidence of his battle. He reached out with his own, hesitantly, and silently asking if he could feel mine. I gave a subtle nod and stiffened when I felt his thumb gently trace the pattern of my trauma, before relaxing.

"Hey," he called, "Have those two idiots ruined this for me?"

I gave another small chuckle before shaking my head.

"Good," he answered, "Because I'm going to make sure nobody ever hurts you again."

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Do not copy, repost, translate, plagiarize, and process in any way, shape, or form, including through AI.

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A/N: This is probably weird. But it's been in my head for weeks.

[pancake-cat22]

The Hockey AU characters pt. 1

So I decided I’ll share some of my notes on each character of the AU so that everyone understands some things better :)

This one is for Big Dogs bc I won’t be able to fit everything in one post!

Joel Beans

He’s the team’s star player. Some people say that made him arrogant but those who know him well know that he’s always been like that.

He met Grian and Jimmy in secondary school and began calling themselves the Bad Boys. To this day nobody understands why.

He briefly dated Lizzie in high school before they broke up mutually. They remain on great terms even now

He and Lizzie actually have a running joke that they’re married which started when they once claimed to be married to get a discount at Starbucks

He’s been learning hockey ever since he was 8 years old and has always loved it

Despite denying it like his life depends on it, he’s an absolute softie for animals, especially dogs. Jimmy swears he once saw Joel cry over a cute puppy he saw passing by them on the street.

Grian Moon

He and Pearl are siblings

He has 10 identical copies of his favourite red sweater

He’s been friends with Jimmy since they were 9

He calls Jimmy Timmy because he misheard Jimmy when they were introducing themselves and decided not to correct himself ever again

He once bought a whole chicken costume just to throw an egg (read: several eggs) at Pearl in it. He still has the costume and still denies it ever being him to this day

He stubborn to the point where he once didn’t talk to Jimmy for a whole week for making a joke about him being short

The moment he met Mumbo in secondary school he declared the two of them brothers and decided he would protect that little ball of anxiety with his life

Scar Times

He moved from the US to play in the Big Dogs

He’s absolutely the kind of person to break his leg during a game and say he’s fine, so Pearl drags him off anytime he falls a bit worse than she likes just in case

Only about half of the insinuations he makes are accidental. He’s very capable of making dirty jokes and he will use that skill.

People often think he’s the most oblivious put of them but if he tries, he can easily put together the pieces. He just lives with the mentality of not wanting to pry and doesn’t look too closely into things. He knows the person would tell him if they wanted him to know

He once built a throne for his cat Jellie out of cardboard. In real scale. It stays in his living room and nobody other than Jellie is allowed to touch it.

He has an older brother, Cub. Sadly, Cub lives back home in the US, meaning Scar doesn’t get to see him much

Jimmy Solidarity

He and Lizzie and siblings

He and Martyn are the Big Dog mascots

He’s known Martyn since high school

He made a YouTube channel dedicated to vlogging funny moments from the Big Dog team, for which Gem absolutely hates him because it ruins their reputation a bit. Despite the complaints of said social media manager of their team, he is not willing to take the channel down

He’s publicly dating Tango and yet to his frustration, none of his friends notice. He even got laughed off when he told Martyn he was dating Tango! They even live together.

Martyn Littlewood

He’s the other Big Dogs mascot

He and Ren have a weird thing going on where nobody knows whether they’re dating, friends, or hate each other. When confronted, Martyn either laughs it off or tells the person (mainly Jimmy because it’s funny to see his reaction) that it’s a ‘mascot thing’. Everyone has given up trying to understand the two. Martyn himself doesn’t really know what he and Ren are. When he asked Ren once, Ren admitted that he didn’t know either.

Though he would never admit it, he only took the mascot job because Jimmy did and Martyn wanted to stay around his friend. He ended up loving the job anyway.

He once set a classroom on fire back in high school to get out of an exam. It worked but he got caught because he stayed at the scene of the crime laughing.

He and Scott once role-played secretly being mermaids for a week straight for no reason back in secondary school. Everyone hated them by the end for their terrible acting.

Gemini (Gem) Tay

She and Etho are cousins

She moved to the UK to pursue better career opportunities and see a new place and ended up getting a job as the social media manager of Big Dogs. She never regretted her decision.

She’s been dating Pearl for almost a year now. She forgot to tell Etho.

Everyone is unanimously terrified of her and yet delighted by her presence. It’s confusing.

She actually has a boating license. She never explains why or how to anyone. Not even Etho knows where and when she got it.

One time she literally flipped a guy who was being creepy to her onto the ground. A video of it went viral and was shown on the local small news channel.

Pearl Moon

She’s Grian’s sister

She’s the team’s doctor

In secondary school, she helped Martyn light the classroom on fire. She, however, did not get caught.

Ever since the chicken costume incident, she’s been determined to find that costume and burn it. She knows Grian’s kept it just for the fun of it. And so, every time she visits Grian’s house or is at one of the parties in his house, she looks through anywhere where it could possibly be. She hasn’t found it yet but she will. One day.

Despite living in the UK all her life, she has an Australian accent. Nobody knows why, not even her.

She and BigB are childhood friends. She’s the only one who knows anything about him from their friend groups, including his real name. She also, however, doesn’t reveal any of it because she thinks it’s funny.

She and BigB also have their weird nosy neighbour traditions. Most of their friends think they were (or still are) in a cult of some kind. It’s really just them being silly.

Mumbo Jumbo

He’s the Big Dogs’ team manager

He constantly wears a suit, no matter the weather or occasion

He used to be (read: still is) a ball of anxiety back in secondary school. Grian kinda just adopted him the moment they met.

He plays around with technology and creates little devices for fun in his spare time.

That’s it for the Big Dogs! I’ll hopefully post a part two for the Shadow team soon :)

[00hpink]

picture exploring kaiser's pain, using 'you drew stars around my scars' by taylor swift as the perfect theme . . . . . (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

growing up with a constant push to succeed, kaiser's motivation to be the best stems from his past, largely thanks to his father's influence. this pushed him to focus on self-reliance and superiority, leaving him with emotional scars that he hides behind a confident, sometimes arrogant, facade.

his life was painted in shades of grey, overshadowed by his fear of failure. but when you, the girl he met at 13 when his father pushed him into work, stepped into his monotonous world, everything flipped.

he couldn't see you as anything but priceless, a silent plea from the universe to keep you safe before it's too late.

taylor swift's song reflects love that celebrates imperfection. likewise, you help kaiser realize that his flaws are a part of his humanity, not something to hide. to kaiser, you're unique - someone who doesn't just see him as the 'emperor' everyone else does. you're the only one who notices the wounds he's kept buried for years -

or so the world thought . . .

things were finally aligning, but then, tragedy hit. you found yourself accused of having an incurable illness.

kaiser, driven by his ego to succeed, continues to bury himself in the game, convinced everything will be okay. his mind remains consumed by soccer, his fear of falling short overshadowing his feelings for her, even forgetting about her. in her final moments, weak yet full of love, she pulls him close, her hands trembling as she whispers softly, "you're enough, michael... you don’t have to be perfect. i see you . . . all of you." but he trapped in his guilt and fear, doesn't catch her words. he's lost in his own mind, relentlessly pursuing his dreams. by the time he returns, it too late - she's gone.

kaiser is crushed in the aftermath. the weight of his silence, the fact that he couldn't change or be vulnerable when it was most important, breaks him. the scars she helped him face now feel like heavy chains, dragging him into a relentless cycle of remorse. he's left with the hollow space she once occupied, and the harsh reality that his pursuit of perfection took away the one person who truly saw him.

he stands in front of her grave, eyes lost in the stars above. he finally understands her words - that even with his scars, he was always worthy of love. but it's too late - she's - was already gone. already been five freaking years - and he's left to live with the pain of realizing he never gave her the love she deserved, until it was far too late.

[golden-redhead]

*takes a deep breath* LISTEN--

I like Arcane's storytelling so much, but this is such a painful side effect of how fast-paced it is that it hurts to think about sometimes. There's a reason why everyone wishes season 2 had a little more room to breathe and tell the story.

The fact that we only get, like, 2-3 interactions between these two this season is absolutely criminal. And I would be fine with that if it was for narrative purposes only, because the truth is that they CAN'T interact if we want this story to work. Arcane is all about tragedy and a huge part of their individual arcs and tragedies in season 2 is that they have to be separated and isolated from their loved ones. They need to complete that journey and to do so, losing their support systems was essential. What bothers me, though, is that it would have been so much more impactful if we still saw them thinking about the other, missing the good old days of being friends and acknowleding the loss of someone they considered close enough to be a sibling. Not only would it truly cement just how much they were robbed of as a consequence of everything that happened in season 1, but it would also make their stories so much better.

Jayce not being there for Cait is essential for her allowing Ambessa so much power over her and the city. He knows how it feels to be under all this pressure, to suddenly be given all this power and become a symbol that people look up to. If he was there, not even as a politician or scientist, but simply as a friend, things would have been so different.

So, yes, it was imperrative to keep these two apart from the storytelling standpoint. The problem is, the narrative doesn't really make use of it!

At no point is Cait shown expressing concern over her life-long friend who suddenly disappeared and is likely dead. It actually feels a bit like a slap to the face that the only person who expresses frustration or ANY sort of opinion about his disappearance, is Ambessa. Like, Caitlyn is RIGHT THERE! And we get NOTHING?? No acknowledgement, not even a line in passing? HOW? WHY?? It's not like we needed much, either, because even in season 1 their friendship is presented very briefly, through a few short scenes that are more snippets than anything else. BUT, the thing is that they are enough for us to understand what kind of dynamic they have and that they are close.

Aside from that one scene in episode 1, season 2 entirely lacks any meaningful interactions between these two, even though the fact that both of them grew up relatively friendless and only had each other to rely on despite no common interests, different social standing AND a pretty big age gap informs us so much about who they are as people. It says so much about both Jayce and Caitlyn, regardless of how brief these scenes are. This total erasure of their bond irks me so much, because it's not just lack of interaction but lack of even a passing thought about how the other is doing or what is happening to them. Which goes against what we know about them, because both of them are portrayed as highly empathetic and caring people. Like, there's a difference between not interacting due to narrative-related purposes, which is valid? But it's another thing entirely to almost erase any evidence of their close friendship and never even hint at its existence despite previously establishing it as Kind Of A Big Deal. Their episode 1 scene is very nice and I loved it, but it's not enough? And also, I would just really like to see Cait caring about Jayce. We see in a lot of ways in season 1 just how much he valued her friendship but I think it would be nice to see her acting caring and protective over him, too, especially now that they are both closer in age and in position. You know... As a treat.

Jayce and Caitlyn not having an emotionally charged dramatic scene hugging will forever be my villain origin story

[thebreakfastgenie]

Another one for the "kiss his bald head" collection and also the height difference collection.

[ruporas]

soft (and some bittersweet)

[pseudowho]

Bedlocked

On a University city trip, someone's got to share a hotel room with Nanami Kento, the class's misunderstood loner...and it's going to be you.

Warnings: College AU! Nanami Kento x Reader, double loss of virginity, "just one bed", heavy make-out, PIV creampie, dry humping, fingering, handjob, both reader and Nanami aged 19

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Nanami Kento wore the awkward bearing of a young man who was surprised by the man he was growing to be. Being uniquely in possession of those excellent traits which were overlooked by girls, but adored by women, he had outgrown himself, from personality to hair, and was unsure how to wear it. Not yet having grown the confidence to lean into his character, and own it, he had been written off by the girls in your class as sullen, boring, miserable-- a downer.

All the girls, that is, except for you. And this was how you found yourself to be sharing a hotel room with Kento, on your thesis research trip to Kyoto.

"--made a mistake with the bookings, we're several rooms short--"

'--well we can share a bed, that's fine, but I'm not sharing with him--"

"--I dunno...I don't think he'd try anything, I just...want to have fun, that's all, and he's a bit..."

You scoffed, pinching the bridge of your nose as the other young women spoke amongst themselves. Kento had not arrived, and yet, was the talk of the group. As the only young man in the class, he had maintained a respectful, professional distance from the young women in it. It had earned him what you thought was a rather undeserved reputation.

Where the others saw uptight, you saw diligence. Where they saw boring, you saw reserved. Where others saw sarcastic, you saw hilarious. Where they saw grumpy, you saw rage against the machine.

In truth, you had long-since harboured an obsession with Kento. His hushed intensity was magnetic, and carried a mass you longed to draw you in. While others saw you as opposites, you saw yourself and Kento as each others' perfect foil. Matching puzzle pieces. Each others' missing ingredient.

And, god, you ached for him, alone at night with your hand drifting downwards. And you would not let him be treated like a leper.

"For goodness' sake, I'll share with Kento." You piped up, seeing the other girls all look round at you. Their eyes drifted, widening in surprise at something behind you, and you did not hear the hotel lobby door swing open and closed outside of your view. "In fact, I'd be delighted to share with him. I'm sure he'll be just as funny and respectful as he always is."

"You think I'm funny."

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the question framed as a statement, and spun round to face Kento...but not as you knew him. You stuttered.

"Oh, wow, Kento...your hair..."

Gone was the sloppy, loping fringe. Instead, Kento's honey-blond hair was neatly parted, undercut, framing his face. All of a sudden, he was so...handsome. Kento glowered down at you, impassive and unreadable. He gave one baleful hum at your assessment of him.

"I assume something happened with the room bookings, then. For you to wind up stuck with me." Before you could answer, Kento pulled his phone out of his pocket, turning back to the doorway with one enormous hand grasping his suitcase handle. "You shouldn't have to make a decision to your detriment. It's not your fault. I'll find somewhere else to sta--"

Kento was interrupted, by your hand clasping over his on his suitcase handle. A grunt of surprise left his lips, at the feel of your dainty hand on his. He looked down at them, his expression always somewhere between anger and irritation. You knew better.

"Stay with me. We...get along well. We always have." Kento scowled, his eyes flickering behind you to the other girls, who, while surprised by how a simple haircut could alter Kento so, were sticking to their guns.

"I don't need your pity." Kento sniped, his voice low and earthy, "I'm perfectly happy to le--"

"And I'm perfectly happy to share. Stop being so headstrong and listen to me."

Kento bristled, looking torn between argument and agreement. As the others collected their keys, filing off to their respective rooms, you awaited his decision. With a huff, Kento fetched your room key, and headed off down the corridor. You fizzed with excitement at the prospect of spending more time with him, but suppressed it, following him with an air of assumed solemnity.

The airs and graces were soon dropped, when the door to your room swung shut behind you and Kento, and you found it to have--

"...just one bed. Shit." Kento's face twisted in discomfort, his Adams apple bobbing deliciously as he swallowed. His eyes trailed down to you, and caught your blush as if it were contagious. He turned to grasp the door handle again, stuttering, so unlike himself.

"Couldn't possibly-- absolutely not appropriate-- my mistake entirely-- find somewhere else--"

"Will you? Find somewhere else, I mean?" Kento faltered, his grip on the door handle loosening. He looked at you with something akin to dread. "On cherry blossom week? In historic Kyoto?" By the time you were finished talking, Kento had deflated like a sad balloon animal.

Night had long since fallen. You heard the laughter, baths and showers running, from the girls in the adjacent rooms. Your confidence was a total mask, as you opened your suitcase, rummaging inside for pyjamas. Your heart pounded in your chest, made all the worse by Kento's silent, tortured appraisal of you. You realised, with a jolt, that you had brought nothing but an oversized t-shirt and underwear to wear to bed.

Beneath his eyes, you were transparent. He felt the tension roll off you in waves. Kento cleared his throat, his ears red, a youthful flush across his nose.

"I'll-- I'll go shower." He offered, considering trying to drown himself. He heard you hum, speaking absentmindedly.

"Go on. Smelly boy." You had barely registered what you said, hearing something like a laugh from Kento as he swung the bathroom door closed behind him. You threw yourself face down on the bed, muffling your cries of anguish into a pillow. Kento leaned against the shower wall as water tumbled down his back, trying not to think with his cock, and failing miserably, cursing his body for its feral stupidity.

You remained face down on the bed. Trying to think unsexy thoughts was murder. You had always wondered how Kento looked, long and tight beneath old band t-shirts. You'd had the briefest glimpse of his abs and happy trail once, when he reached above you to switch the projector on in class. How you had restrained yourself from leaning in and licking the soft skin of his navel was beyond you. The thought of the noise he would have made, alone, had kept you going for weeks. The way you caught him looking at you in class the next day, took you the rest of the way.

"Shower's free." You sat bolt upright, your brain short-circuiting to see Kento stood at the bathroom door in nothing but pyjama trousers, steam billowing out across broad shoulders and swept back hair. You forced your mask back into place.

"Thought you'd died in there." You offered, not as casual as you sounded. You fumbled your shower bag and pyjamas out of your bag, and made your way to the bathroom. You and Kento danced awkwardly, trying to skirt round each other. With a grunt of irritation, Kento grasped your upper arms, moving you effortlessly around him into the bathroom. His touch was scalding. You wouldn't possibly make it through the weekend.

By the time you headed out of the shower, tugging at your t-shirt to make it cover more of your thighs, you blushed to your toes to see Kento sat up in bed, bare chested and reading. He read the same sentence over, and over, and over, trying with broken determination not to track his eyes up your legs, and imagine how you tasted between them. Feeling you hurriedly slip into bed beside him made his cock jump, and he reached out with a fumbling hand, switching off the light without warning.

Only the faint bathroom light illuminated the room. You both lay, backs to each other, on opposite sides of the bed. The silence grew oppressively heavy. You felt lightheaded, barely breathing, hyperaware of every noise and movement your bodies made. You were paralysed by thoughts of his honey-rich voice, his lightly freckled shoulders itching to be touched, how it would feel to be trapped beneath him while he fell apart above you.

"I'm sorry." You blinked, hearing Kento's apologetic rumble.

"...what are you sorry for?"

"This...this situation. I know I'm no fun to be around. And I've made my peace with that. But you--"

"You are fun. Very fun. I'm...not going to punish you for being an introvert."

Kento was quiet on his side of the bed, but no more relaxed. You had gathered the guts to reach one hand across the sheets to him, before he threw the covers aside, and moved to sit up.

"You need your own space. I'll sleep on the sofa." The 'sofa' sat at the end of the bed, barely more than a loveseat, and you snatched a hand out, grabbing Kento round the bicep. You almost shivered at the hard cords of muscle there, thicker than your hand by far, barely grasping on as Kento tensed.

"No. You're taller than me. I'll sleep on the sofa--"

"--absolutely not--"

"--stop being such a fucking gentleman and let me--"

"--I'm not a gentleman, it's just basic manners--"

"--listen, I feel fine, just come and share--"

"--offer some mad girl a bed and suddenly you're a gentleman--"

"Kento, please just come to bed with me."

Kento's brain stuttered, now. He rolled to face you, his whole body on fire, trying to sound calm. He was an open book, to you. You felt every nerve ending of your skin put to the flame.

"...come to bed...with you?" You moved to roll away and cover your face with your hands, indescribably mortified. Kento couldn't allow it-- not when he'd daydreamed about this for so long. He grasped your hands, rolling you back over to face him. He looked awkward, not used to his own strength, as you flipped back over with a squeak, and a weak apology from Kento. You had never noticed the beautiful whiskey depths of his eyes, before.

You were lost for words. The tables had turned so suddenly, you had no idea on which side you sat. Kento scoffed, a faint blush on his high cheekbones, scowling into a corner of the room. The silence thickened again. Kento huffed a laugh.

"Go to sleep. I'll...I'll just play some games for a while." He did not want to. He wanted to flip you over again, to hear that squeak again, wondering if you'd squeak or moan when he pressed his weeping length into your--

"Oh...what games did you bring?" Your eyes lit up, sparkling, sitting up in bed with a bounce. Kento melted. He wanted to put you in his pocket. He could manage the urges, but the affection overwhelmed him and he stuttered, fumbling for words.

"Because..." Kento waited on bated breath, your lips plush and parted, crawling just-so towards him on the bed, seeing how your breasts shifted between your arms beneath that fucking t-shirt and maybe she would want this too fuck we wouldn't come out all weekend once we've tasted each other fuck if she were my girlfriend she'd be my whole world wouldn't ask for anything else ever again--

"...because I'm desperate for a Gengar actually but I haven't got anyone to trade my Haunter with and--"

"Oh. I need a Golem."

"Oh."

"Nice."

You both rummaged in your bags, grabbing your GameBoys, and you swore, trying to find the cable to connect them. Kento raised his eyebrows, scooting himself back beside you in bed, and crossing his long legs.

"Really? You brought one? Who did you think was gonna trade with you, one of them out there--"

"I'll be honest, I was relying on you, Kento, like I always do." Kento's ears reddened. He moved to sweep back the fringe he no longer had. Instead, his long fingers swept back through his neat parting, mussing commas of blond over his forehead, in a way that made you want to do the same until his hair was a mess and he was groaning.

You sat shoulder to shoulder, comparing Pokémon teams. Kento favoured Steel and Fighting types in a balanced, well-prepared team with no weak links. You favoured Ghost types and anything cute, in a weird mismatched set-up that surprised your enemies. With your short cable connecting your GameBoys, you sat thigh to thigh. You hadn't noticed your toes scrunching against Kento's, foot, stroking your skin against his. You felt him shiver and tense.

"What-- what are you doing?" Kento asked, his voice catching in his throat. His chest felt tight. His whole being zeroed in on where your skin stroked his. You caught yourself, and curled your toes away, to Kento's disappointment. "It-- it's okay...you don't have to stop." Your games were ignored now, defunct in distracted hands.

You swallowed, the air thick with tension around you. He was so close, you could smell the residue of his cologne, and the natural masculine smell of him, earthy beneath freshly washed skin. The side of your breast, bare beneath your t-shirt, rested against his bicep. You felt his bicep clench, grazing your nipple. He felt the pebbled snag of your nipple against his arm. He knew he'd combust if he didn't feel your skin on his soon; knew his fragile resolve was breaking.

Your foot cautiously stretched back down, the sensitive skin of your toes stroking against the top of Kento's foot. You felt him shiver again, putting his GameBoy down with a grunt, his eyebrows drawn together with am arm over his eyes.

"Do you...like it when I touch you?"

Kento grumbled under his breath, his mouth twisted in faint derision. "Don't be cruel." You blushed, reaching out for his hand. Kento tangled his fingers in yours, pressing the back of your hand to his twitching thigh, and trailing featherlight fingertips over your palm and inner wrist, an erogenous zone you never knew you had until he elicited a shudder from you.

"See." Kento whispered, lightly stroking the spot on your inner arm that connected curiously to your clit and nipples, a fine gold thread of liquid arousal. "You like it, too. So if you don't mean anything by this, just stop. Don't...don't play games with me." He took his fingers away, and you almost whimpered, chasing his touch, begging.

"No, Kento, wait-- please...don't stop."

Kento short-circuited. He had never been so close to the fabled pleasure of anothers' body. Pornography had little impact for one without the flesh-memory of erotic touch. Kento's cock was thick, now, throbbing. You dropped your head to his shoulder, sighing with bliss as his trembling fingers resumed their butterfly kisses to your wrist. The growing tent in his pyjamas, and the way he spread his thighs aside to accommodate his erection, made your mouth water.

Kento shifted, his body moving on instinct, until he was tentatively leaning over you. He wanted to watch your face as he stroked your wrist, examining its fine little tendons and veins, and examining how you arched, your mouth parted, your t-shirt rucking up until he could see the warm squidge of your belly above your underwear. His voice was husky, thoughtful.

"You'd...you'd stop me, right? If you didn't want this?"

"Yeah, I...yeah. But I-- I don't want you to. I want m--"

Kenti bowed his head to drink the unfinished words off your lips, knowing you wanted more just as much as he did. He grunted against the taste of you, his lips shuddering and uncertain, only hoping his sincerity came through. Kissing him back hard, your lips and tongues clashed, both instinctual, hungry, tasting. You and Kento spurred each other on, your mutual desperation rising exponentially with each nip of the lips, each tongue thrust into each others' mouth, each moan snatched and devoured between kisses.

Your hands sunk into each others' hair, ruffling, teasing, pulling, and you whimpered into Kento's mouth at the massage of his fingertips over your scalp. You were drunk. You had to be drunk, so high off the spontaneity of a moment you thought would be planned to a T.

Kento's mouth wandered, pressing and sucking sharp little lovebites into you on his way down your neck. You had ended up tangled around him, beneath him, the tip of his cock almost escaping beneath his waistband. Riding on buckish young urgency, Kento's broad hand had risen to grope your breast, possessive, trembling against the urge to squeeze you too hard. When you whimpered, arching into his touch, his mind flew back to him, shocked and ashamed by his stunning lack of self-control.

"Sorry," Kento gasped, his mouth and hand flying off you as if burnt, "fuck, sorry, 'msosorry--"

He broke off at the sight of you. Strewn, your hair scrunched against the pillow, with love-swollen lips and roses blooming on your neck, you were serene; for him. Thrown like petals onto the sheets, all for him and his mouth and his hands. Kento felt the fog descend again, dampening his judgement, for the instinctual urge to fuck.

"Have you...have you ever..." You felt Kento's meaning. His voice was rough, deep as the valley, and hewn with stone. You shook your head, still supple and dopey from his attentions. Kento's held breath released in one husky groan. He swallowed, shaking his head down at you.

"No, I...me neither. Always wondered, always--" Always what? Always daydreamed about it almost constantly? Always chastised himself for being such a fucking animal? But, the look in your eyes as you drank him in. Kento and you met on that clouded bridge, in the middle. Your pussy ached with promise.

Kento's hand came to settle slowly on your breast again, delighted by the way you pressed into him. His fingers grazed down over your nipple, reaching the hem of your shirt, brushing upwards.

"I can...can I? Please?"

"Please. Please, yes please, god."

"Fuck...I can't...cant believe it-- finally--" Kento didn't seem to realise he was moaning his inner thoughts aloud, rucking your t-shirt up like unwrapping a gift. As your breast freed, Kento shuddered again, slanted brown eyes scrutinising your body with analytical intent, committing you to memory.

His hand ghosted over your tummy, tracing dimples and stretch marks on the way, before curling around your breast, giving the gentlest of squeezes. The noise that left his mouth was somewhere between a cough and a moan. Still possessed by a haze of need, his mouth dipped down, tongue flicking out over your nipple, before capturing it with his mouth as you arched again, keening. He pressed into your arch, one arm planted above your head, the opposite hand rolling your other breast between keen fingers.

He couldn't help but rock the straining underside of his cock against your barely-covered pussy. The material between you was so thin, you could feel the whole length of him, and the tapering shape of his bulbous tip as it snagged against your clit. Kento knew he'd cum like this, if he wasn't careful, and shivered at the idea of spilling his seed all over your belly. He brushed away his hurrying peak, so determined was he that you'd cum before him.

"--keep--keep doing that...Kentoooo--oooh, feels so good--"

A rush of competitive pride burned through him. He couldn't help but murmur against your spit-slick nipple, nuzzling it with his nose.

"Keep telling me...what feels good. Make sure I'm not selfish, 'cos I--I'll just take if you don't--"

Suddenly hyperaware of your own body and how you must look, dopey and blissful as you chased pleasure by rutting his length between your legs, you stopped, and Kento huffed.

"I can hear you--thinking you look stupid-- and you don't--" He scowled down at you, his voice hoarse and strained between heavy grunts of ecstasy. "Will you cum? Like...like that?" Kento nodded down towards where you had been rolling your pussy against him. You tried to pull an arm over your eyes, blushing, extraordinarily embarrassed. Kento tangled his fingers in yours, pressing them over your head.

"Hey-- hey-- listen, I'll...I'll let you see me cum...if you let me see you. Please." You swallowed, mouth watering at the thought of watching Kento break, such sincere fascination trickling down your spine.

"...okay." You answered, uncharacteristically meek. Kento huffed another laugh.

"Good girl." You blushed from hairline to toes, involuntarily bucking up against Kento with his words. He began to rut against you again, the friction good but not quite right, not as good as it could be. You threw caution to the wind.

"Hang-- hang on, I'll just..." You reached a hand down beneath your panties, parting your labia just enough for Kento's heavy length to snag harder against your clit.

Kento's eyes zeroed in on the creamy white discharge on your fingers as you pulled your hand out, and when he continued his motions, you fell supple and needy beneath him again, groaning with the pleasure of his bulbous tip and the ridge beneath it, catching your clit. Pleasure bloomed through you, so much closer to orgasm than you had thought.

"--don't stop--" You begged, arching up towards Kento until he fucked down harder with a broken growl, his own need to cum eclipsed by your pleasure. Drawing one nipple deeper into his mouth, and lubricating the other with his spit to roll it fluidly between his fingers, Kento learned fast, playing you like an instrument until your mouth gaped in a silent cry, your first orgasm received from another, roaring through you in waves.

Kento kept humping against you, not recognising that you had reached your peak. He faltered, hips stuttering and panting as you groaned, squirming and writhing, groping at him with desperate, fucked-out hands. Kento was obsessed, a spurt of pre-cum adding to the slick he'd already made between your legs. Utterly besotted, his slim eyes wide with blown pupils, he shakily raised one hand to stroke your hair, kissing your forehead through the bliss, shushing you with whispered praise.

"--so cute...look so pretty...thank you-- thank you--"

As you came down from your high, you heard him thanking you, and laughed, trying to cover your face as he batted your hands away, playful and smirking. Biting your lip, emboldened by post-nut confidence, you slid your hand down to grip Kento's clothed, pulsing cock. He stilled above you with a grunt, looking so angry again as that feral, desperate haze descended. You begged him, hushed and soft.

"Can I...feel it?" Kento's thoughts burst with single-minded relief. He nodded, breath catching in his chest, allowing you to roll him over onto the bed until you were lying on your side beside him. You stroked his clothed length, fascinated, watching every reaction with cruel innocence.

Unsure how to handle him, you faltered as your hand began to slip inside his pyjamas. Kento had one arm slung over his face, still scowling, wanting desperately to watch you play with his cock, but too self-conscious.

"Here, I'll--" Kento reached down, shucking his pyjamas down until his cock released. Kento seemed embarrassed by his size, distinctly bigger than average, and thick, his pink tip peeking out from beneath his foreskin. Mistaking the cause of your silence for disgust, Kento grimaced behind his forearm, apologising.

"--shit, 'msorry, I know I-I'm--"

"...wow." Your breathless little gasp, followed by your hand immediately circling round Kento's cock, sent his mind blank again, watching you with dumb adoration as you examined the weight of his cock in your hand. Your hand gripped him, stroking from ball to tip with an inexperienced squeeze that had Kento grunting, gasping and bucking beneath you. It didn't matter that you had clearly never handled an erection in your life; for Kento, who had never been stroked by a woman looking at his cock and face with hungry, adoring eyes, he was being rushed towards a toe-curling orgasm.

"--st--sta--stopstopstop, m'gonna cu--m'gonna cum--'m gonna--"

Your hand stopped immediately, and Kento snarled, before gasping, momentarily shocked by his visceral reaction to being teased just to the edge of completion. Your pupils dilated, obscenely aroused by the strange danger of a furiously needy man about to cum in your hand. You were lost in the tease, lowering your head and maintaining eye contact as you threatened your lips just over the tip of Kento's cock.

"...stop?"

Kento was glazed, eyebrows tilted, looking uncharacteristically concerned, darting between your mouth, and your eyes, and back again. His nose flared with hot little pants. A barely perceptible shake of the head. You smiled, laying the flat of your tongue against the tip of Kento's cock, and licking over the bulbous head with an incoordinate pump of his length.

Kento's moan rumbled from his chest outwards, muffled as he bit into his own arm, his mind blown by the wet little sucks of his cockhead that he'd imagined only in his wettest dreams. He hurtled with breakneck speed towards his peak, finishing with frantic bucks and begs.

"--oh my--fucking g-god--huuugh fuckfuckfuck sorry m'sorry--shit--"

Kento came with an uncontrollable roar of pleasure, both arms gripping the pillow beneath his head, biceps straining, balls clenching. You pulled free of his cock with a wet pop and a little cry of surprise, when the first spurt of cum salted your tongue.

You continued to stroke him, obsessed with the jerk of him in your hand, the way he groaned, low and long, with each stripe of thick, white seed up his belly. It was only after the twitches had ceased, his cock sluggish against his belly, that Kento began to gasp like a fish out of water and gripped his hand around yours.

"--sto--sta--stop...fuck...so...sogood sosogood..."

The words left your mouth before you even thought to stop them, a years old masturbatory kink suddenly within reach. "Can you cum like that inside me?"

Kento stared at you in mute shock, his neat new haircut mussed beyond repair. His post-cum brain struggled to process your request. You frantically babbled to reassure him.

"--I--I mean no condom--and hear me out hear me out-- I've got good protection-- and and I've never and you've never so we won't catch anything--"

Kento was above you, flipping you onto your back and suckling at your neck again within seconds. You heard his oddly grown-man chastisement into your neck, while his body moved in the total opposite direction.

"So fucking irresponsible-- just just "oooooh cum inside me Kento" just like that, fuck-- do you think I'm--I'm fucking stupid? Sh...shit...fucking yes please I can't believe I'm doing this--"

Kento's cock had barely softened, graced by the barely-there refractory period of youth. He was thick, heavy, and dragging down your belly. You were just as frantic as him, kicking off your underwear and watching Kento hyperfocus again; this time, on your bare sex, right before his eyes.

He knelt back, gripping himself in his fist as if holding himself back. Feeling his sharp eyes penetrate you, you moved to close your legs. Kento looked at you as if you were mad, batting your thighs aside with his knees as you covered your face, mortified.

"Beautiful." He berated, rubbing his fingers through the cum spattered on his belly, and sinking them down to glide cautiously between your labia. You gasped, squirming, and Kento watched his fingers coat with your slick with a gulp, feeling a fresh burst of blood engorge his cock until he ached.

He leaned to his bag, rummaging and cursing, before coming back up with a bottle of lube. You shot Kento a look and he shot you a look in return, berating you again with a voice stricter than fitting for his age; "I was expecting a room of my own."

"Oh yeah? How's that working out for you?"

"Very well actually-- stop laughing or I'll--"

"...you'll what? Make me?" You asked, coy. Kento let out a strangled little groan, and pinched the bridge of his nose as you laughed.

"...don't even...dont even know what you're asking...idiot--" Kento huffed as you drew a crooked smile out of him, your joyful muffled giggles a natural balm to his baseline rage. You stilled again, breathless as you watched him stroke his pulsing cock, your throat dry with voyeuristic anticipation. Kento panted, beyond embarrassment and hanging on by a thread.

Kento stroked some lube between your puffy folds, eyes heavy as you squirmed, prodding one finger softly at your entrance. You stilled beneath him, holding your breath. Kento tangled your fingers in his.

"Breathe." He hummed, and as you released a shaking breath, Kento began to ease one slick finger inside you. Your mouth dropped open, eyes closed beneath raising eyebrows, as Kento slid his long finger into you all the way to his knuckle. He hadn't realised he was holding his breath until he felt lightheaded.

"...you...you feel...fuck, incredible, so--so tight..." Kento whispered, his voice low and gravelly, that same primal urge to fuck immediately into you threatening to cloud his brain. By the way you gazed up at him, still and supple, you would probably let him too and he could just push right in and--

"...we'll take it slow," Kento reassured you, tight and tense, "...and I'll stop straight away if...if it hurts."

Your eyelids fluttered to feel Kento's thick tip prod at your entrance, sure he wouldn't fit until he pressed forwards, and you stretched like you'd never stretched before. You bit your lip against the faint sting, nodding urgently and gripping Kento's thighs as he looked at you in concern.

Kento was lost in the moment, his eyes zeroing in on where he gradually sheathed himself inside you. He'd never felt such exquisite pleasure, obsessed by how your plush walls moulded to the shape of him, sucking him in, slick and tight. You squeaked, biting into Kento's shoulder as he bore down on you, his cock almost sunk to the hilt. He stilled as he bottomed out, his fingertips bruising on your hip, trembling with jagged groans.

You felt so strangely placid, full, and wrapping your legs around the small of Kento's back to lock him inside you. The brief sting, the belly-deep ache, left you feeling like you had made a blooming transition from girl to woman in one deep thrust. Kento drank you in, pressing a long, lingering kiss to your lips and mumbling against them.

"...'m not gonna last long." Kento was possessed, pulling out a little before rutting into you again, delighted by your gasp, determined to break more noises out of you. His usual gentle nature was becoming quickly overrun by a firm, authoritative edge, not knowing yet how this would come to define him as a man.

Kento rocked into you, shallowly at first, before gaining the confidence that he wouldn't break you. By the time he had built a rhythm, pumping into you through sweaty pants, your breaths mingling together, he felt the drag of orgasm approaching him fast. Kento's imagination could never have matched up to the reality of dragging his cock through such nectar.

Any time Kento tried to talk, he broke off into anguished pants and groans into your throat, sinking his teeth there for a moment, seemingly irritated by how sloppy he'd become.

"...j'sso...uhnfuck...wet--best thing I--...huhnnn--"

Hearing you whimper and squeak as he moved within you offered him some condolence for being a speechless mess, at least.

Though you knew you wouldn't cum from this alone, you were lost in the addictive feeling of being full and fucked into by Kento chasing an instinctual high. You couldn't help but let your fingers wander downwards, rubbing your clit beneath them. The thick pressure in your belly made your pleasure three-dimensional, so much better than your fingers alone.

Kento was a quiet lover, saying more through heated glances and lingering touches than he ever could through words. Knowing he was holding back for fear of hurting you, you whispered against his ear, sending ripples down his spine.

"--harder-- pleasepleaseplease--"

"Fffuck okay...this?" Kento sunk into you to the hilt and jabbed, urging himself deeper, earning a guttural groan as his cockhead pressed against your cervix and soft-spot. He nodded into your neck, shuddering deeply. "Th-this...yeah...oh fuck, yeah..." Your toes curled against the back of his thighs, and you sobbed with the bone-deep adoration of his kisses to your womb. Kento's restraint snapped, tilting your hips as he gripped you, holding nothing else back.

Kento sped up, driving himself inside you with total abandon, his breaths coming out as spitting curses and groans. Finally, he strained above you, his moans breaking and peaking, unable to hold off any longer;

"--gonna...gonna...cum in you for--for-fucking-ever-- nnggh--"

Watching Kento break and spill himself inside you, his cock jerking with long, painfully pleasurable contractions, was the erotic vision you had sought your whole adult life. Hurriedly working your fingers until your own high hit you, had Kento collapsing on top of you to feel your pussy clenching around him, milking him of every little drop of seed.

Kento was silent, his corded back clenching over you. You nuzzled into his ear, pressing kisses along his jaw until he gave you his lips with a groan. Pulling gently out, and replacing his cock with his fingertips so he could feel how his seed dripped from your cunt, had Kento wondering vaguely how he'd ever use a condom now he'd tasted the ripe-peach of you without a barrier.

You nipped Kento's neck, jolting him back to reality. Glossy doe-eyes glimmered up at him in the dark; and you, desperate to feel full again, completely addicted to him as he was to you.

"...again?"

"...give-- give me a minute."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Heard some strange noises coming out of your room last night."

You kept your face innocently neutral at the breakfast table the next morning. You tipped your head to the side, inquisitive, as if you didn't feel multiple thick loads of Kento's seed soaking your underwear.

"Oh?"

"Mhm." A knowing stare from the other girls at the table. Kento sat down, clearing his throat, his plate piled with what should have been an embarrassing number of pastries.

"She's really good. At Pokémon battles." You had a single moment to admire Kento's absolute gall, the other girls looking at him with vague displeasure as he continued.

"Her Gengar's really strong actually. I wasn't ready for it. I thought Machamp would be a good choice, but--"

The other girls had already lost interest, turning their conversations elsewhere. Kento looked up at you from the other end of the table as you mouthed oh my god at him. He was inscrutable, apart from his twinkling eyes.

You were fortunate that none of these girls were at your wedding, years later. But you did occasionally still refer to making love as 'Pokémon battles', if just to hear your impassive, suited, quiet man laugh.

[lostfracturess]

seven minutes of misunderstanding — satoru gojo

of all the ridiculous situations you've found yourself in, being trapped in a closet with satoru gojo has to top the list. especially when you're convinced he's dating his best friend.

Of all the places you expected to end up tonight, being crammed in a tiny closet with Satoru Gojo wasn't one of them.

A stupid campus party game had somehow led to this moment—you, him, and about fifteen winter coats in a space barely big enough for one person, let alone two.

You're painfully aware of every point where your bodies touch — your back against his chest as you try to avoid the hanging coats, his breath tickling your neck, his hand awkwardly hovering somewhere near your waist like he's not sure where to put it.

The closet is so small that when you attempt to turn around to face him (because somehow facing him seems less intimate than having his breath on your neck), your chest brushes against his.

You hear his sharp intake of breath, feel the way his body tenses against yours. You're so close to him in a way it makes your skin tingle, and you're grateful for the darkness hiding your blush.

"So..." Satoru drawls. "Come here often?"

"Did you seriously just—" You try to gesture incredulously and end up elbowing him in the ribs with enough force to make him grunt. "Shit, sorry!"

You try to put some distance between you but that only results in you stepping on his foot. "Oh god, I'm so sorry! Again!"

"Just—don't move," he says, his hands finally finding your shoulders to hold you still. You feel the warmth of his palms through your shirt as he clears his throat. "We could just... not do anything. Nothing has to happen if you don't want it to. We can just wait it out."

The consideration in his voice surprises you. You try to see his face in the darkness and end up with a mouthful of fuzzy coat. After spitting out what you hope isn't synthetic fur, you say, "That's really sweet of you. And like, I get it. This must be super awkward for you too."

"Awkward?" He sounds puzzled.

"Yeah, I mean... being stuck in here with a girl when you're..."

"When I'm what?"

"You know..." You wave your hand vaguely in the narrow space. "I just meant, like, with you and Geto..."

There's a moment of complete silence, and then Satoru starts laughing so hard you can feel him shaking against you. "You think— me and Suguru? Oh my god, is that why you turned me down for lunch last month?"

"Wait, what? I thought you were just being nice! You're always hanging all over Geto—"

"Because he's my best friend."

"And that time I saw you feeding him—"

"He had a broken arm!"

"The couples' costume at Halloween—"

"We were Mario and Luigi! They are brothers."

Every explanation makes you want to dissolve into the floor more. "Oh my god," you say. "You know everyone on campus thinks you're gay—not that there's anything wrong with that! I totally support you two, you're so cute together and—"

"Can you please stop," he interrupts, pressing a finger to your lips to silence you. "I am very, very interested in women."

Your heart skips. "Oh, really?"

"Yes." His voice drops lower as he removes his finger from your lips. "One woman in particular, actually." You can feel him lean closer. "And she's currently pressed up against me in a very small closet."

"Oh," is all you can manage, your brain short-circuiting as you process his words. You try to lean back slightly, but there's nowhere to go, and suddenly his face is very close to yours.

Then he asks a question you never thought Satoru Gojo would ever ask you. "Can I kiss you?"

The question is soft, almost vulnerable—so unlike the usual Satoru you know. When you don't immediately respond, too shocked to form words, his hand comes up to gently cup your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze in the darkness. "Can I kiss you?" he asks again, his thumb brushing across your lower lip.

A breathless "yes" escapes your lips before you can overthink it.

The first brush of his lips against yours is gentle, questioning, like he's afraid you might change your mind.

Then you grab his shirt and pull him closer, and gentle goes right out the window. He kisses like he's trying to prove a point, like he's been thinking about this for ages, and oh — maybe he has been.

His hands slide from your face to your waist, pulling you flush against him as he deepens the kiss. You gasp against his mouth, and he takes the opportunity to sweep his tongue against yours, drawing a small sound from your throat that makes him grip you tighter.

"Still think I'm gay?" he says against your jaw, trailing kisses down your neck that make your knees weak.

"Not sure," you tease him, even as your head tilts back to give him better access. "Might need more convincing."

You feel him smile against your neck. "More convincing, huh?"

In one fluid motion, he presses you more firmly against the wall, his body completely flush against yours. One of his hands slides into your hair while the other grips your hip, thumb stroking the strip of skin where your shirt has ridden up.

"Let me be very clear then." He punctuates each word with a kiss. "I am very—" kiss "—very—" kiss "—interested—" kiss "—in you."

His hand tightens in your hair as his tongue sweeps against yours, drawing a small whimper from your throat that makes him groan in response.

"God," he breathes against your lips, pulling back just enough to speak. "Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do this?"

You can't form a coherent response because he's already kissing you again, harder this time, more desperate. Something falls off a nearby shelf as you shift against him, but neither of you care.

You're so lost in each other that you don't hear the warning knock. The door flies open, flooding the space with light and the sounds of party chaos.

"God, finally!" Geto's voice breaks through the stunned silence. "Do you know how long I've had to watch him pine over you?"

"Suguru, I will literally murder you," Satoru growls, but he doesn't let go of you. Instead, he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. "Wanna leave this party?"

And oh, you do.

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or modify my work.

tags. @fayuki @starmapz @saurondriell @starlightanyaaa @sxnkuna

@cocomanga @nanamis-baker @rosso-seta @shervinss @chiyokoemilia

@janbannan

[nochepsicodelica]

Toji who got really drunk after a misunderstanding you left him to ponder upon one morning when you left for work. You missed a part of your routinely goodbye to him and at first it didn't bother him. He understood that you were running late, but once he started chugging the cold drinks and he sat with the sentiment, he realized it did strike him.

He hated the entire process of getting drunk, hated that drinking was unbearable unless it was chased with sweet kisses from you, but there he was, downing bottle after bottle. He was starting to feel liquid full but even in this intoxicated state he didn't want to put down the bottles. At some point he starting feeling uncomfortable being by himself and didn't want to feel that way anymore, so he called and texted you. Multiple times. You finally picked up after the eighth call.

-Hi, baby! Sorry, I missed your calls. I just left work and i'm heading home.-

-Baby? Who are you calling baby?- He scoffs, a roll of his eyes following.

-You... Toji. It's you. Who else would I be calling baby?-

-Honestly, I...- He laughs, the sound not coming off as one of joy with the next words he speaks. -I didn't think you even loved me enough to give me stupid pet names. I feel very unloved by you and... mhm, just want you to know that.-

Now, that's just entirely untrue and it hurts to hear. You prove your love for him every day. What is this sudden false claim against you?

-Toji, love, what are you saying? I'm coming home, already. Maybe we should talk in person. This is hard to discuss over the phone.-

-Uh-huh, you do that.- He sighs, heavily, his eyes lidding with sluggishness. -Can't win a verbal argument, s-so you're gonna come over here and try to seduce me with your pretty face. I'm just gonna say no when you try to touch me. Just no.-

-I'll see you in a bit, Toji.- you say, before abruptly hanging up.

He sounded off. You knew something was up the second you saw his eight missed calls and a stack of messages just saying 'hey'.

Your keys jingled as you pulled them out of your bag to unlock the front door. The house was steady, no sign of Toji watching TV in the living room or of the shower running. You walked further in, calling his name. It was kind of eery walking through your silent house. You also knew of Toji's tendency of scaring you, so you were on guard for that as you paced around the house. You had one more room to check and it was the bedroom. You dragged your feet over to the room, knocking when you noticed the door was closed. There was no answer after two more knocks so you just opened the door.

The sound startled Toji who was lying against the headboard of the bed, almost falling asleep. The second he saw you his demeanor changed. He perked up like a dog when their owner comes home, before melting back to the stoic state he had been sitting in.

"Hey," you say, almost tentatively, as you walk towards your shared bed, sitting down on the edge. You're met with an acknowledging hum of a response. "What's wrong, baby?"

"There you go calling me baby again. Baby is for people who love each other, so stop it."

You look over the bed, spotting the evidence that led to the bite in his attitude towards you— those bottles that spill the remaining drops of their content and Toji's backwash onto the bed, making the sheets reek of alcohol.

"Well, I love you, so no, i'm not gonna stop calling you baby."

He crosses his arms over his chest, huffing like a child. "That so? It didn't seem that way this morning. I've never felt so forgotten about by you."

"I told you I was gonna be late for work, but you insisted on keeping me trapped beneath you. Bring that part to light, handsome." You can see the corners of his lips twitching. He's holding back the most wicked smirk at the short burst of memories from the morning. "Plus, I still gave you your goodbye kiss, so what are you on about?"

"You didn't say 'I love you'. That's part of goodbye with you, so you can't blame me for feeling this way." His eyes express something of hurt. Maybe it's enhanced by the drinks he had, but you can't leave him that way.

"You're loved, baby. Very much so. Me not saying it this one time doesn't diminish the actual feeling." He's been reduced to a cub over this, so as his lover, you step in to mend the feelings that were grazed.

"Can you..." he rasps, patting his thigh, signaling for you to sit. You drag yourself towards him, and plop yourself onto his lap. You can smell the alcohol on his breath as he rambles on about how you can't forget to say 'I love you' to him ever again, even if it's a blurted, rushed one that he doesn't get a chance to respond to as you rush out the door.

The look he reserves for you is entirely soft, his hands are hot against your clothed back as they feel the warm body he's missed for hours. "I still..." he pauses to sigh, tiredness imbued into the sound. "Still want you to call me baby," he starts again. "I was just bummed. Don't stop calling me baby. Don't ever do that." He's letting his hands roam all over you. Your back, your waist, your hips—everything.

"Are you gonna let me touch you or are you gonna say 'no'?" You grin, remembering his words, verbatim, just incase he tries to tell you he never said them.

"Why aren't you touching me? Why would I not want you to touch me?" He looks insulted by the question and you have half a mind to remind him of what he said to you on the phone, but the heat in his eyes dies out as quickly as it appeared. "Really need a hug, mama. Please, hug," he says, the last part muffled by your chest as he keeps his face buried into it.

You held him tight and murmured 'I love you' countless times, while he hummed in response and groaned quietly as you ran your fingers through his hair.

[beloveds-embrace]

(Poly 141 x neighbour!reader: the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach! (Or in your case, the way to four men’s heart is through their stomach))

It started with cookies.

You’d been in the middle of baking a double batch- oatmeal chocolate chip, your personal favorite- and realized halfway through scooping them onto the tray that you’d made far too many for one person. It wasn’t unusual. Baking was how you coped with stress, and ever since you’d moved into this apartment building, stress had been in no short supply.

The guy in 4A had blared music all night. Your hot water barely lasted five minutes. And your smoke detector had developed a habit of chirping at odd hours.

But there was one bright spot- your neighbors in 4C.

You’d seen them coming and going. Tall, broad, and always carrying duffel bags that looked far too heavy to be legal. They kept odd hours, too, but never caused trouble. One of them- Johnny, you’d learned later- had even held the door open for you when your arms were full of groceries.

Which was why you’d stood outside their door that evening, balancing a plate of cookies and feeling like an idiot as you knocked.

Not-Johnny had answered first, blinking down at you in surprise, though his smile was warm and he was beautiful. You couldn’t blame him; you had barely spoken to them more than a few short words.

“Uh… hi?”

“Hi.” You forced a smile. “I’m your neighbor from 4B. I, uh… made too many cookies?”

His eyes dropped to the plate immediately, and you swore you saw something primal flicker behind them. Still, you worried.

“I mean, if you don’t want-”

“No! No, we want. Come in- Johnny! Get over here!”

And that was how it started.

The second time had been lasagna.

You’d just finished assembling it when you realized- again- that you’d made too much. So, after psyching yourself up for ten minutes, you’d knocked on their door for the second time in as many weeks.

Price, who had introduced himself along wuth Simon the day you dropped off the cookies, had answered that time, his expression guarded until he saw the foil-covered pan in your hands.

“You’re joking,” he’d said, but when you started to retreat, he’d stopped you with a firm, but gentle hand on your back. He had such a nice, big hand. “Don’t be ridiculous, lovie. Get in here.”

That night, you’d sat at their table, sharing stories and laughter while they cleaned the dish down to the last crumb.

After that, it became routine.

You started “testing recipes,” and they became your eager guinea pigs.

And they never seemed to mind.

And now…

The smell hit first- roasted garlic, browned butter, and something rich simmering low and slow. It snuck out from the slightly cracked kitchen window and spilled into the shared hallway of the apartment building. For men used to MREs and takeout, it was practically siren song.

Gaz was the first to notice, lingering just outside the door labeled 4B- your door- with an almost predatory focus. He wasn’t proud of it, but his stomach growled so loud that Soap- rounding the corner with a gym bag slung over his shoulder- laughed outright.

“You stalking the neighbor again?”

“Shut up. You smell that?”

Soap inhaled deeply. His eyes fluttered shut for a beat before snapping open.

“Jesus wept- what is that?!”

“I don’t know, but I’m this close to knocking.” Kyle held up his fingers, barely an inch apart.

“She already fed us last week, mate. Dinna push it.”

“But what if she’s testing another recipe?”

Gaz wasn’t wrong. You had a habit of showing up at their door with dishes too good to refuse.

They hadn’t stood a chance.

After the cookies and the lasagna, it wasn’t long before other dishes followed: casseroles, soups, pies, and even homemade bread. And the worst part? You bow always prefaced it by saying you needed an opinion- like they were doing you the favor.

It wasn’t until Price called you a “bloody saint” over a pan of enchiladas that Ghost finally put it together.

“You’re using us as taste testers,” he’d said flatly.

You’d grinned- too cute and too smug for your own good. “Is that a problem?”

Not a single one of them had said no, just as stated before.

Which led them here, hovering outside your door and pretending they weren’t waiting for another offering.

“… Fine.” Soap muttered, raising his hand to knock.

But the door swung open before he could, and there you were- apron on, hair pulled back, and flour dusted across your cheek.

“Hi!” You chirped, eyes bright. “Perfect timing!”

Gaz’s grin was pure relief. “Tell me you need opinions. Please, love.”

You laughed, stepping aside to let them in. “I always need opinions. Come in!”

Inside, the kitchen was chaos. Cutting boards and mixing bowls were scattered across the counters. A Dutch oven bubbled on the stove, releasing clouds of savory steam. Plates of food- half-assembled sandwiches, stuffed peppers, and what looked like chocolate tarts- sat waiting.

“I… might’ve gone overboard.” You admitted, and if you hadn’t spent all day in the kitchen, your cheeks would’ve gone warmer.

Soap whistled low, eyes raking over every dish. “Not complainin’.”

Price arrived just then, texted by Kyle, trailed closely by Simon, who took one look at the spread and froze. His eyes swept from the roasted chicken resting under a blanket of fresh herbs to the still-warm biscuits stacked beside a bowl of honey butter.

“What’s the occasion?” John asked, smile amused, but you just waved him off.

“Practicing.”

Gaz was already halfway to the table, trying to decide what to start with, but Simon lingered, watching you carefully. He had his balaclava on, though you haven’t yet dared to ask why he wears it.

“Practicing for what, exactly?”

You hesitated, fiddling with the edge of your apron. “There’s this… thing next week. A community bake-off. And I thought it might be fun to enter.”

Soap arched a brow. “You’re entering this in a bake-off?”

“Well, not all of it. I’m still deciding which dishes to use.”

“You’re winning.” Kyle said immediately, filling his plate.

“Definitely.” Johnny added, already reaching for a sandwich.

Simon, still lingering, crossed his arms and stared down at you. His height will never, ever not make your breath hitch. “You’re testing all of this on us?”

You looked up at him through your lashes, pouting just a little. “You don’t mind, do you, Simon?”

His gaze darkened- not in anger, but something softer, heavier. It made your stomach flip.

“No,” he said simply. “We don’t mind.”

You swallowed and turned quickly to the oven to hide the heat rushing to your cheeks.

The next hour passed in a blur of taste testing, arguments over which dish was best, and repeated assurances that you were going to “blow the competition out of the water.” But beneath the laughter and teasing, you failed to catch the way they looked at you- how Price lingered by the stove just to steal extra bites, or how Johnny kept offering to help, hovering close enough that you brushed elbows more than once.

And Simon? He was the worst of all. He didn’t say much, but his eyes tracked your every move, following the way your hands worked the dough or wiped flour off the counter. He was the last to leave, hanging back as the others helped clear plates.

“You’re serious about this bake-off?” he asked quietly.

You nodded. “Thought it might be fun.”

“You don’t need it.”

“… What?”

He gestured at the now-empty plates. “To prove anything, I mean. You’re already…” He trailed off for a few seconds, and though you were left blinking at him, you didn’t rush him. “Good enough.” he murmured at last.

The compliment hit harder than you expected, and for once, you didn’t have a clever response.

“Thank you, Simon. That… means a lot to me.” you said softly.

And just like that, the others reappeared, breaking the moment. Johnny patted Simon’s shoulder with a knowing smirk, and Kyle slung an arm around your shoulders, while Price merely watched. Your kitchen was now spotless, cleaned by them.

“When’s the next test run?” Gaz asked.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Well, let us know. We’re free anytime.”

“Yeah,” Soap added. “Anytime.”

You laughed but this time, you didn’t miss the way Price was looking at you- thoughtful, like he’d already made up his mind about something.

The door clicked shut behind them after that, leaving your apartment quieter but no less warm. The scent of roasted garlic and herbs still lingered, and you found yourself smiling as you surveyed the spotless kitchen. They’d made quick work of the mess, trading jokes and lighthearted jabs as they wiped down counters and stacked dishes in quite the uniform style.

You didn’t know what you’d done to deserve neighbors like them, but you weren’t about to question it.

You caught yourself humming as you tucked away the last plate, the sound of their laughter still echoing faintly in your ears. It was easy with them- comfortable in a way that felt rare and almost too good to be true.

And maybe it was.

Because what you didn’t know- what you would probably never know, such a sweet and trusting thing- was that your apartment had been wired within days of your first visit to their door.

To them, it had started with a conversation.

“She’s alone,” Price had said after the second time you’d brought them food, leaning back in his chair with a contemplative frown. “No sign of anyone else coming or going.”

“Security’s shite.” Gaz had added, gesturing vaguely toward the shared hallway where your lock barely functioned half the time.

Soap had shrugged, easygoing as ever, but his eyes had been sharp. “Better us keep an eye on her than let some arsehole get the chance.”

And that was that.

Price had ordered the equipment, Ghost had handled the installation, and none of them had lost sleep over it. Not when it meant keeping you safe.

It wasn’t just the cameras, either.

Simon had reinforced your locks under the guise of “fixing” them after you mentioned a struggle with your key. Johnny had talked you into letting him check your windows “just to be sure they latched properly.” Gaz had set up an app on your phone to “monitor deliveries,” though it also let them track your location if needed.

And Price? He always lingered at the door just long enough to ask if you needed anything else- subtle, but enough to make sure you knew they were there.

You never questioned it. Never noticed the way they moved like a unit around you, anticipating problems before they could arise. Never caught the glances they exchanged when you mentioned a repairman or the way Simon hovered near the window any time a car idled too long outside.

You just kept feeding them, trusting them in ways that only made their resolve deepen.

Price was the worst.

He’d leaned against the counter tonight, watching you laugh at Johnny’s jokes and swat at Kyle when he tried to sneak extra bites, and the thought had hit him harder than he expected, while Simon watched on in amusement and was the only to successfully swipe a few more bites.

They could’ve had this already.

If life had gone differently- if timing had been better- you could’ve been his. Theirs. Someone to come home to instead of just someone they visited between deployments.

He hadn’t said anything, of course. None of them had.

But as they left, he’d lingered in the doorway, letting his hand rest lightly against the frame.

“Don’t let ‘em eat it all before the bake-off,” he’d teased, lips curling into a smile. “They’ll start begging if you do.”

You’d laughed, and God, it was dangerous how much he liked the sound.

“I’ll make sure to keep them in line.”

His smile softened. “Good girl.”

You didn’t notice the way Simon shot him a sharp look at that- or the way Johnny and Kyle exchanged knowing grins.

And later, when Price sat down in front of the monitors to check the feeds, he didn’t let himself feel guilty.

Because you were safe.

And as far as they were concerned, that was all that mattered.