#random scribbles pay it no mind

[iloveyoucountdown]

66 days remain (scheduled)

i had mappi content to post today but i think it wouldve been better colored cause it looks wonky as hell so take what i did on the planes lmao

[ange1heavensent]

Jackson Girlfriend!Ellie Headcanons

:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡.｡:+*ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:

Pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

w/c ≈ 660

:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡.｡:+*ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:

☆ Entertainment in Jackson is limited, but movie nights are a constant in your relationship with Ellie. Thankfully, Ellie has a TV in her house, and many nights are spent cuddled together in her bed watching films. You two quickly discovered you don’t always agree on what to watch. To solve this, you both take turns picking movies. When it’s your turn, you sometimes choose horror films, which Ellie "watches" with her face buried in your neck, a pillow, or with her eyes tightly shut. It always amuses you how someone whose job is to kill infected can be terrified of ghosts and jump scares. Even if she’s afraid, she never complains. You would happily wrap your arms around Ellie and help her cover her eyes from what scared her. 

☆ More on girlfriend!ellie is that she cannot be quiet during movies. She loves making snarky, dirty remarks about the actors and actresses, often with a grin on her face. She also has a knack for figuring out the plot within the first 20 minutes. Sometimes she accidentally blurts out her theory, forgetting that you might want to enjoy the movie without spoilers. But most of the time, she’s mindful and keeps her predictions to herself.

☆ Ellie always has cold hands, and for some reason, they always seem to find their way to you. Whether it’s under the covers or sneaking a hand under your shirt when you're not paying attention, she loves hearing your whiny complaint when her icy fingers touch your warm skin.  

☆ Ellie has a habit of bringing you little trinkets she finds while on patrol. Broken jewelry, random rocks, tiny figurines, she always finds the strangest things, but she'll always justify bringin it home to you because she says that they reminded her of you. Over time, these trinkets pile up in your shared space. Ellie loves the cluttered, homey vibe. At this point, though, it’s more “messy” than “cluttered,” with stuff scattered all over the house.

☆ Teaching you to play the guitar is one of Ellie’s favorite things to do. She’s patient with you, gently correcting your fingers as you fumble over chords and she always insists that you’ll get better with time. Sometimes, when you’re just not getting it, she’ll take your hands and move them herself or hold the chords herself and let you do the strumming, all while smiling softly at you, humming softly in your ear. 

☆ Ellie always begs you to cut her hair when it starts getting too long. Even though you’re terrified of messing it up, making it uneven or too short, she always reassures you. "Hair grows back," she says with a shrug. "I don’t care, but you’re the one who has to look at me every day" she jokes, easing your nerves. It’s become a regular routine now, and even though you’re still nervous every time, you’ve gotten pretty good at it.

☆ Ellie is notorious for stealing the bed covers at night. You’ll wake up shivering, only to find her cocooned in a mountain of blankets, fast asleep. You always manage to wrestle a bit back, but she’s a blanket thief through and through.

☆ Ellie tries her best to comfort you when you’re sad, but she’s not exactly sure how to do it. She’ll awkwardly pat your back or try to make you laugh with silly jokes. It’s the thought that counts, and you appreciate every clumsy attempt she makes.

☆ Ellie draws you all the time. She’ll scribble sketches of you in her journal, your eyes, your smile, the way your hair falls across your face. Sometimes she even draws your hands, completely obsessed with the little details. If she ever finds an old camera on patrol, she’ll snatch it up in a heartbeat. Ellie loves taking photos of you, capturing moments where you aren’t paying attention. She swears it’s because “the lighting was good,” but you know it’s just because she’s crazy about you.

:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡.｡:+*ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:

Thank you for reading! If you liked this fic, check out my masterlist for more :)

[bunnycvnts]

rafe being told ‘i love you’ for the first time!

pairing: rafe x reader

warnings: fluffy as fuck

his arm was tightly wrapped around you as the two of you lay in his plush bed, the curtains pulled closed, and his LED lights shone a soft purple color. rafes favorite movie played on the tv, but neither of you were paying attention, too wrapped up in the sweet kisses shared between you. your lips felt like warm, soft pillows pressing into his; he could never get enough of the way you kissed him. like if you kissed him too roughly, he’d pull away. you were always gentle, making sure every emotion was felt carefully through your lips, comforting his soul. that wasn’t to say you weren’t fervent sometimes, but you kept a kind of softness he’d never felt before.

you two had spent the entire day swaddled in blankets, switching between movies, sharing kisses and sweet whispers, and making sure you were as close as possible. his hand was either around your shoulder or splayed across your stomach or hips, never letting you far from his reach. he’d been struggling lately, with harmful thoughts and feelings clouding his brain, and his only escape was his pretty little girlfriend, who hadn’t had a care in the world. being with you was like floating; his worries went away, and all he could see was you. a bright light in his sea of darkness.

he wasn’t sure why you were with him and was constantly on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. for you to realize he was psychotic, angry, and hard to be around, like everyone else had. that you’d turn around one day and not look back, leaving him behind without a second thought. he wasn’t shy with his arguments or anger; he was never in the right mindset to hide it from you. but you’d never questioned him, only ever tried to calm him. you’d saved many people from feeling his wrath and saved him so many lectures from his father. you weren’t trying to change him; he knew that. you were just trying to ease the burden he felt weighing on his brain.

days like this were his escape with you. spending hours feeling your soft skin pressed against his, your warm breath on his neck anytime you’d whisper about the movie or giggle at his reactions, your fingertips trailing down his shirtless chest, tracing random scribbles and hearts onto his skin. the way you’d blush anytime his hands crept a little too close to your ass or wiggled their way under your shirt to feel your warmth. it was practically a fever dream for him. no one had ever spent so much time carelessly lying around with him, not worrying about what they’d do next, only enjoying the moment with him. the first girl to make him feel something without having to involve sex.

he was broken from his thought process by your fingers tapping against his cheek.

“whatcha thinkin’ about over there?” a soft smile was on your lips, and he sat up a little to get a better look at you.

“cheesy shit. got my mind all messed up, ya know?” his response had made you giggle—that redness he loved returning to your cheeks. you pursed your lips as a silent gesture to kiss you. his lips met yours with a quick, gentle touch, and he only pulled away slightly to look at you. you were looking right back at him, a look in your eyes he couldn’t pinpoint.

suddenly, you sat up, throwing your leg over his hip to straddle him, and ran your fingers through his hair while his hands met your hips and squeezed lightly. “you’re so handsome.”

your fingertips trailed his cheek, and your thumb pulled on his bottom lip. he groaned and rested his head back against the headboard. his stomach fluttering at your words and the softness they held.

“stop it.” he knew you meant it, but hearing it turned his heart into mush, and he could only let himself be so soft.

“i love you.” the confession spilled from your lips before you could stop yourself. rafes head snapped forward to meet your gaze, looking at you confused. it was your turn to groan, and you pushed yourself off of his lap.

“stop, don’t look at me like that.” you ran your hands through your hair, feeling somewhat distraught at his reaction. had it been too soon? did he not feel the same way? you peeked over at him, doing a double take at his watery eyes.

“hey, i’m sorry; i shouldn’t have just thrown that on you. i can go.” you rushed to sit up and get off the bed, but were stopped when he pulled you into him. he kissed you with all the softness he could muster, both of his hands on your cheeks.

“no. i’m sorry. no one has ever said that to me before. no one i thought really meant it, at least. i love you, too. seriously. as mushy and corny as that sounds.” his confession saddened you but warmed you at the same time.

you rested your head on his chest, pressing small kisses to his skin and muttering little ‘i love yous’ after each one. blood rushed to his cheeks, and little laughs fell from his lips when you’d kiss ticklish spots. he felt emotions he couldn’t describe, but his heart was racing and his stomach felt like a zoo was shuffling around in him.

he pulled you up by the collar of your shirt and kissed you again, whispering something against your lips.

“my fucking girl.”

taglist: @sunkissedrafe @cxsmiclore @mousie101 @ditzyzombiesblog @judessangel

[hoe4hotchner]

Drawer | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Gn!reader CW: Fluff. Haley is still alive in this one… but they're divorced and she's not mentioned, so don't worry about her. WC: 0.8k

This is part of #Teddy-ber hosted by @angellsell

           The kitchen was quiet, save for the soft clinking of plates as you set the table. The sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over the room, making everything feel cozy and safe. You glanced over at the small drawer beside the fridge, the one neither of you opened often, yet always ended up filling with random things. You smiled, shaking your head. The infamous junk drawer - every home had one, but yours and Aaron's had its own kind of charm.

           It all started off simple, as these things often do. A place for the odd rubber band, a spare battery, maybe a pen or two. But over time, it grew, much like your relationship with him, becoming a repository for memories, a snapshot of your life together in the most ordinary and yet extraordinary way.

           You wandered over to the drawer, giving in to the curiosity, and pulled it open. The first thing that caught your eye was a tiny, half-used notepad. You chuckled, remembering how Aaron had tried to create a system and used it to make a grocery list - once. His tidy handwriting took up the first half of the page: Apples, cereal, milk, eggs. The essentials. Then came your scribbles, messier but full of character: Chocolate, wine, ice cream. It was a small, unspoken dance between the two of you, his practicality meeting your indulgence. He’d teased you about your sweet tooth but always made sure to grab a bar of your favorite chocolate when he went to the store.

           Underneath the notepad was an old, crinkled paperclip. Nothing special at first glance, but you knew better. This particular clip had been straightened and twisted into some sort of abstract shape during one of Aaron’s late-night phone calls with the director. He had a habit of fiddling with things when he was deep in thought or conversation, his mind constantly running through strategies, cases, and plans. The paperclip had against all odds survived that night and ended up in the drawer, tossed in with the rest of the forgotten oddities.

           There was a small collection of mismatched pens, each one with a different origin story. One from the BAU, with the FBI logo fading from years of use. Another, much nicer, one with Rossi’s name engraved on the side - a Christmas gift that had mysteriously disappeared from Aaron’s desk only to reappear here. You smiled, remembering how Rossi had teased Aaron about it, accusing him of misplacing gifts as though they were case files.

           Digging a little deeper, you found a crumpled-up ticket stub. It was from a movie you and Aaron had seen early on in your relationship, on one of your rare date nights - some action thriller that neither of you had really been paying attention to. You had been too busy watching him try to relax and stop worrying about work. His arm curled around your shoulders as the tension slowly left his body. It was one of those evenings where he let himself enjoy life, and in that dark theater, you’d felt closer to him than ever. The ticket had ended up in his pocket, and then, eventually, in the drawer.

           You picked up an old keychain, shaped like a miniature Swiss Army knife. It was a gag gift from Morgan after a particularly tough case where Aaron somehow had managed to improvise his way out of a tricky situation (or so you'd been told) with nothing but a pen and a piece of string. Morgan had joked about Aaron being the new MacGyver, and the keychain had become a running joke between the two - until it, too, found its way into the drawer, no longer needed but still a significant memory.

           Near the back, half-buried under a mess of receipts and old to-do lists, you found something that made your heart swell - a small, child-sized sock. You chuckled softly, knowing exactly whose it was. Jack had spent the night a few weeks ago, and somehow, one of his socks had gone missing. You’d found it in the laundry and tossed it in the drawer, intending to return it but never getting around to it. The little sock was a reminder of the nights when Jack slept over, filling the house with his laughter and questions. Aaron was always softer when Jack was around, his face lighting up in ways that were rare for the composed man you knew.

           As you looked over the contents of the drawer, you realized that it was more than just a place for random objects. It was a reflection of your life with Aaron - the little moments that made up your days together, the way your personalities meshed in the most unexpected ways. His neatness contrasted with your occasional chaos, his seriousness balanced by your lightheartedness. And in the middle of it all, this drawer - a quiet testament to the life you were building together, one forgotten pen and grocery list at a time.

           You smiled, closing the drawer with a soft click, knowing that someday it would fill up even more. But for now, it was a comforting, endearing mess - much like love itself.

[saeist]

nagi was sleeping in class again

it's not much of a surprise that he does that. he's literally the talk of the class because he just sleeps all day. even earning the title 'the thousand year netero' just because he literally sleeps all morning

you just so happen to be desk mates with the said 'thousand year netero'

you've gotten a handful of comments from your classmates that luck was not on your side as you were nagi's designated desk mate. they even ask if you've ever seen him awake or if you've ever talked to him

the reply was always the same. it was just a simple, "yeah" because frankly, you have seen him awake and you have talked to him multiple times throughout the semester

nagi never fails to greet you good morning and offer you his bread when he walks in through your classroom door every morning. it was basically the only time he talks to you before falling asleep on his desk for the rest of the day

until recently, nagi has been talking to you way more than he usually does

and that's because you've developed a new hobby with your desk mate. you've been doodling on his exposed arm as he sleeps soundly beside you.

i mean, the opportunity was there. nagi, who was knocked out cold and you were bored out of your mind. you see his sleeve hunched up and you had a pen in hand. it was only a matter of time you started doodling your heart's content on his arm

nagi first noticed when reo pointed out that he had some scribbles on his arm and that he should go wash it off. nagi noticed your familiar handwriting and confronted you about it the next day

nagi will never forget how your cheeks turned into a bright shade of pink and mumbled apologies as you were caught in the act. nagi simply assures you it was nothing and he thought it was "pretty neat"

ever since then, it became your thing to doodle on each other's arms like it was nothing

as time went on, nagi could reference the doodles you'd doodle on his arm. that's when he noticed that you two had way more things in common.

slowly, he finds himself awake in class more often. he wanted to see you in the act as you doodle away on his arm. may it be song lyrics in bubble letters, or random characters you draw on the top of your head, nagi wanted to see you do it

one day in class, you were surprised to see him paying attention for once. usually at this time of the day, he'd be sprawled out next to you with a textbook merely covering his face so he wouldn't be caught sleeping.

nagi feels your curious gaze and shrugs. he then extends his arm and pushes his sleeve up to his forearm. he motions you to start doodling on his exposed skin.

you don't know why but you feel yourself blush. maybe because this was your first interaction that didn't involve nagi sleeping next to you as you doodle.

you felt shy in front of nagi for the first time. you were a bit skeptical to even start to draw on his skin.

"just pretend i'm sleeping" nagi says, now opening his palm, giving you even more space to draw on.

the bell rings, indicating that classes were over. your classmates all stand up and start packing their things to go home after the long day but nagi was still seated, watching you with his eyes, waiting for you to mark him for the day

in the end, you just doodled your name in kanji

you ended up leaving before nagi. nagi sits there in his seat with a small smile on his face, staring at your name you just doodled on his wrist.

the next day rolls in and you find nagi awake in class. wind blows through your class windows and nagi's paper flies away. he goes to pick it up and you can see his sleeve moved up a bit

there you see, your name still written on his wrist

[spookypete-94]

Dark Horse- A Mother

Part 2

Reader is a single mother, working double shifts at a restaurant. Father of the child starts to become a problem while reader is at work and Price offers a solution. Slight age gap between reader around 25 and Price around 35.

How ironic it was to be back at home emptying out the lunchbox that had started it all. Feeling petty that you were angry like it had forgotten its own self on the counter. Taking out the sandwich you had made the night prior and throwing it away. Turkey, cheese, and miracle whip. Abel's favorite. Starting all over, your mind trying to find work as a distraction from the entire day’s events. Lunchbox packed and, in the fridge, note on the door so not to forget it in the start of the chain tomorrow. Work finished.

And then the fleeting thought made its way back to you. Engaged. You were engaged. Something you thought would never happen because you have never had time to consider it, let alone dating.

John had passed you his phone number scribbled on a piece of paper. How very old school of him, you thought to yourself accepting it before placing it in your apron pocket mixed in with your tips. It was now back in your fingertips, passing it around to look at it closer. The man had handwriting of a serial killer... Could you be marrying a serial killer?

Shaking your head, riding yourself of such a thought. No, John was not a serial killer.... least not the kind that stalked its prey and killed the next victim- you told yourself, typing what you thought was the phone number into your phone Never really knowing much about him, you could tell he was at least military, but what exactly?

John? the text you sent to the number hoping you had read it right.

Yes? was the single worded answer. Sighing with relief, you were glad it was him, not ready to keep taking the chance of a random stranger.

I could barely read your writing.

Been told it's bad before. And then a time or two after that. He responded back and you can hear the slight chuckle in his voice.

Get the boy in bed? He messaged right after.

Yes, he's sleeping now. Just got his lunch packed.

Good, you should be in bed too. Oh my god, you thought to yourself now worried he was thinking of you in bed. Glancing at the time, after your nightly routine was done you saw the clock on the wall read almost 11:30. He was probably just being practical.

Heading there now, thank you.

For what?

Everything.

Get some sleep, I'll see you tomorrow afternoon.

Yeah, like you were going to sleep after everything that had happened today. Giving it an attempt, you crawl under the covers after starting the washer to try to get a jump start of the home work load. Closing your eyes, making the room dark, you pretended if anything to get sleep.

***************************

"Abel!" You shouted, pulling the clothes out of the dryer you had moved during your insomnia caused by your worry battle. "Time to get a move on." Grabbing a warm towel, you hung it on the hook outside of the shower.

"We're going to be late." You said still trying to usher him. Watching his little hand slip out past the shower curtain, feeling for the warm towel.

"Thanks momma," he said muffled through the towel.

It wasn't shortly after he found you fully clothed with his bookbag and the condemned lunchbox in your hand by the front door. Slipping on his shoes he took the bag, slipping it over his shoulders, standing up shouting he was ready.

Locking the door behind you, he sprinted down to the sidewalk ready for you. Grin beaming almost as bright as the morning sun.

"Will that man come see you again today?" he asked as you walked next to him.

Struggling to find the courage to answer him, you realized he was paying more attention than you had thought. "He is."

"Will he be there when I get there?"

"Probably, and I think we will be seeing more of him overall."

"Why?"

"Well... him and I are going to get married."

"Married!? Like a mom and a dad together?"

"Yes, but he is not your dad. Your dad will always be your dad."

Abel looked down kicking a rock.

"I wish he was better to you, momma." And your heart fractured at the statement. Your hand found his chin, tilting it up so he looks at you.

"I wish he was too," your voice quietly fighting the tears that stung your eyes, "but take it as a lesson Abel. If you ever find love, be sure to treat them better then what you have been shown."

Abel gave a single nod, understanding the weight of your statement. He has always been a kid that is easy to talk to.

Going your separate ways, he gave your middle a squeeze, head buried in your abdomen before saying goodbye. Leaving you alone to finish your walk on your way to work.

***************************

Coffee pots are already brewing, turning on the grill top and fryer for your cook. You were ready to roll.

Morning shift went quick, the restaurant running like a well-oiled machine from your efforts. No phone calls from the school today, further easing your confidence that everything was going to be alright. Abel with his dad like the custody agreement states while you're at work. That feeling of confidence quickly left you though, as Abel's homeroom teacher walked in. Mrs. Karim. Eyes locking with her, you meant her almost at the front door.

"Everything ok?" You asked familiar enough with her to know she wouldn't have been here for nothing.

"Relax," she said with a warm laugh. "Not everything that happens has to be bad." She teased placing a hand on your shoulder making you take a deep breath in. "I came to bring you something," she said handing you a student made project. It was a heart with 2 paper doors that you could open.

"We made these for Mother's Day, and I really wanted you to see what your son wrote."

Each individual line was something Abel had written about you. A scribble that you could decipher with ease, seeing it change and grow as he got older.

I love my mother because:

She makes sure I have food every day.

She makes sure I have a warm towel after every shower.

She walks me to school every morning.

She hugs and tells me she loves me every day.

She tucks me into bed every night.

Instantly the tears are hot on your face and grinning like the Cheshire cat. How much you loved that boy.

"Thank you," you said wiping your tears off with your hand.

"Figured you needed it," she said patting your shoulder again letting on she knew more then what you thought, but not pestering further. "You're a good mom." Making you nod as she left, continuing about her time off.

Turning around, you saw Kate standing leaning against the counter.

"Can we get one day in without you crying?" she teased.

"Fuck off," you chortled. Stepping past her, you saw John sitting at the said counter. He must of snuck in.

"You, ok?" he asked, hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee.

"Yeah," you said sliding the heart to him to look at. "Look, his handwriting looks like yours." You teased implying he had the handwriting of an 8-year-old.

Taking it in his hands he opened the doors of the heart, smiling as he read it too. "Maybe you could give me lessons then." Eyes drifting up to yours as your heartbeat faster, rattling your ribs. They look so blue even through his long brown lashes. A simple “ha-ha” left your mouth unable to find anything else back to say to flirt with him.

"Well, hopefully I can give you something else that makes your day," he said sliding a little black box towards you on the counter. You felt almost dirty accepting it, knowing what was on the inside but still did it anyway. Opening it and looking down, before handing it back to John, unsure of where to go from there.

It was a simple pearl on a gold band. "Was my mother's." He said taking it out of the box, hand extended out for yours. Handing him your left hand, you let him slip it on the ring finger. "Figure if this happening, will make it official." Rendered speechless, you searched to find anything to say.

"What was she like?"

"My mother?"

"Yeah."

"A good mother. Lot like you." He said his answer was plain and simple. His thumb stroking over the back of your hand, back and forth over the ring.

It was like you were made of butterflies and birds. The fluttering beneath your skin, in your chest and stomach, rising and lowering. Were you floating right now? Breaking eye contact, you looked down at your feet grounding yourself. Kate is coming up and giving you a light shoulder check.

"Hate to interrupt your love bird’s moment, but the dinner rush is starting."

"Right," you said fingers squeezing John's hand before getting started. Placing an order for his regular, planning to at least feed him for everything he has done, you got to work taking your tables.

As skilled as you were, you had fumbled a few orders. Forgetting things, not filling drinks right away. But the heavy ring on your finger throws off your game. You would stare at it next to the pen and pad as you would take the order. As simple as it was, it was so beautiful. The glimmer catching your eye every now and then as if you were a bird. Something unfamiliar in the familiar. The lack of tips showed for it. Yes, you were floating because you were riding cloud 9.

Streetlights were starting to come on outside, signaling it was now getting close to closing time. Restaurant now empty, John the only "customer" inside. The door jingling open caught your attention as you saw Abel slip in, heading straight for you. Kneeling you hugged him squeezing him tighter than he was you making him laugh.

"What the fuck is that??" Your ex's voice fills your ears covering the laughter. Glancing up you were shocked to see him in your place of work. Generally, he steered clear, letting you at least have home and work to yourself. But after yesterday he apparently wanted to keep whatever his problem was going.

"What are you talking about?" You asked standing up, slipping Abel behind you, and pushing him lightly to the counter. Thankfully Kate was already waiting for him, hands outstretched with fingers waggling to get him away from verbal altercation.

"On your finger." He said pointing before reaching and snatching for your left hand. Pulling it away from him, you cradled it to your chest. The ring pressed as far inwardly as you could get it.

"Hands off her," John said arm in front of you slowly pushing you behind him like you had just done with Abel. Your right hand rested on his waist, letting him know you were still there with him.

"You can't be serious," your ex said over John's shoulder trying to talk to you.

"The way you treat her ends now. You will no longer be speaking to my soon-to-be wife that way. You'll get your time in court." John said taking a step closer, almost chest to chest.

The door jingled again, and you noticed the three that followed John around standing behind your ex. They crowded him, keeping the situation under control, but willing to turn violent if the time came.

"Why don' ya step outside mate, and have a littl' chat with us?" The biggest one wearing all black said, gripping your ex's shoulder and pulling him out the door.

John followed making you call out to him, "John," your voice warned. "He's still the father to my child."

"Not gonna’ hurt him love, just gonna’ lay down some rules," he said pushing the door open with his back, following his other war dogs outside. He rounded the corner out of your sight.

"You have my heart," Abel said pulling his classroom project to him, breaking you out of your thoughts.

"I always got your heart," you said leaning down kissing his head. "Start your homework while I clean and close up," you said roughing up his hair.

"Ugh...." he groaned, but doing as you said opening his bookbag.

After what felt like an eternity, you watched John come back in the other 3 following in behind him and sitting down at the counter.

"Can I feed them at least?" You asked referring to what they had just done.

"You don' feed the strays," he teased looking down the counter at them. "They ain't staying long anyways. Just enough to lock up and me to walk you home."

"You're walking me home?"

" 'Course I am, my ring your wearing wife to be." he bantered back to you making you go red. Using the excuse to have to go back into the kitchen and fill the mop bucket to hide it. Was useless, hearing the others snicker at your embarrassment.

Previous

Next

***************************

Taglist:

@cutiecusp

@lhhlver

[base0h]

HOW DO YOU NOT EVEN KNOW?

he said something awful, something he should’ve never said or thought about saying. but he said it, and now the damage was done. and he didn’t even know what he’d done, leaving you alone to reflect on the damage (feat. inarizaki! thank you for requesting this anon :)) kori, your best friend was always a mediator, but even this time she knew that you were the victim, and he was the bad guy (I get confused whenever I start using too many y/f/n and stuff like that so I just stuck my oc in here instead ✌️)

warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, s/o reader, angst, this does not have a happy ending with comfort sorry, your dialogue is in white, kori’s dialogue is in purple, kori is an oc not a canon character (click here for more info abt her)

You knew Atsumu was popular, that wasn’t a surprise. He was good looking, a talented volleyball player, and he was charismatic. What was there not to like about him?

But still. Why did it still hurt and make you agitated whenever other students would fawn over him? You knew it was bound to happen, hell— you fawn over him too as your boyfriend.

If you had to hear one more deafening squeal of his name, you’d probably lose your mind.

“Miya-kun!!”

“Miya-senpai!”

The worst part was that he always stopped and made time for them. Even when he was with you. You couldn’t lie to yourself, it hurt everytime you saw him smiling at the fans and giving them his time and attention when he probably should be giving it to you, his actual s/o.

You voiced your worries and concerns to your friend who always listened and lended her ears to you.

“I probably shouldn’t be feeling like this.. I mean he loves me right? Not the fans.” You said softly, but your tone was uncertain, you honestly weren’t sure what you were saying was true or not, and that scared you even more.

“No I think it’s pretty valid to feel like that. It ain’t fair for him to do that in front of you especially if you’re on an actual date. He should be paying attention to you, not some random fangirls or fanboys.” Kori replied, scribbling away on her tablet as she sketched and drew as she was listening and talking. Kori always drew when listening, she had a way with multitasking.

You found it funny that Kori offered such sage wisdom and support despite the girl never having been in a relationship nor having a crush on anyone. “Kori how do you always know about relationship stuff when you’ve never even been in one before?”

Kori looked up from her tablet with a slightly hurt expression. “I really didn’t need that stray comment—?”

You giggled, snickering to yourself as you reassured your friend that you were just teasing and joking around. You knew Kori was one of the sweetest human beings on earth, and you trusted her to have your back when you needed her to.

“But seriously though, you should tell him what you’re feeling. He’s so dense that I don’t think bro would know unless you tell him directly.” Kori suggested, going back to drawing. She was right, Atsumu was quite oblivious, and probably thought nothing of what he was doing since he was so used to the attention.

So you decided to gather your courage to speak to the blonde twin about your concerns. You thought that it’d go ok, maybe he’d be a bit confused, but he would comply and maybe give you a hug or a couple kisses to reassure you.

“Huh? Whaddya talkin’ about babe?”

…

What did he mean, “whaddya talkin’ about”?

You thought you worded yourself quite clearly for him to understand, you knew he wasn’t stupid or anything— at least not THAT stupid.

“So yer worried about all the other people talkin’ to me? Babe don’t worry, it ain’t like I’m kissin’ ‘em or anything.”

You felt your heart twist. Did he just— not get it? Or did he not care? Did he care about you and everyone else the same? No. That can’t be right, you were catastrophizing things.

“No that’s not— I’m just— Atsumu wait. Please listen for a second—“ you tried grabbing his arm, but he immediately pulled it away.

“I gotta go to practice y/n, ok? Can it wait till after?”

he used your name instead of a nickname.

“It’ll take like five seconds for me to explain—“

“Just leave me be y/n! Yer insecurities can’t get in the way of my practicing, nationals are coming up and you’re tellin’ me yer worried about other students talkin’ to me? Yer just as annoying and as distracting as them at this point!”

“you’re just as annoying and as distracting as them”

That sentence echoed over and over again in your mind. He didn’t really mean that right? He was just stressed because of nationals? He’d certainly apologize right?

But all you heard were his quick receding footsteps that disappeared as he walked into the gym, closing the door behind him. You were frozen there for god knows how long. It felt like a few seconds, but to bystanders and other students walking by, you looked like you’d passed out standing up.

“Uh— y/n…? You good?” A familiar voice asked, tapping your shoulder lightly. You snapped out of your daze and looked to your side where your friend Kori was, looking at you with concern and slight worry in her sleepy golden amber eyes.

You hadn’t even realized tears had pricked your eyes, which earned a silent gasp from your friend. “Whoa what happened? Did you get hurt or something??” She asked worriedly, her eyes scanning your body for any injuries. Your breath trembled as you just slumped over into Kori’s shoulder, letting out a choked sob that you didn’t know you were holding in.

Kori’s eyes were wide with concern as she hesitantly pat your back, returning the hug. She didn’t say anything or press you to explain the situation yet, she just let you cry for as long as you needed, offering tissues and water to help you calm down a bit.

After you had managed to explain what happened, Kori sighed knowingly, as if she wasn’t surprised he’d say that. “He was never the nicest dude around y/n. I’m sorry he said that to you that’s wrong.” Her tone was empathetic and gentle, and she tried her best to avoid saying anything bad about the blonde. You knew him and her weren’t on the best of terms for some reason, reasons unknown even to Kori, Atsumu just didn’t like her for some reason.

Kori did her best to try and at least distract you. You went over to her house after school and she did whatever you felt like doing. Watching TV, studying, playing games, listening to music, honestly anything she’d do to help you at least a little. You couldn’t lie it did help to distract yourself, it felt good to not think about Atsumu. It felt— freeing.

You hadn’t felt this free and light in a while. You didn’t even realize how much your worries and concerns about Atsumu’s loyalty had weighed down on you.

Ding, ding

Your phone chimed, a new text message incoming. You hoped, hoped that it would be from Atsumu. Why did you hope for that? You felt so free when you weren’t thinking about him, why did you want him to text you? Why did you still want him to be with you and spend time with you despite what he did, and how he dressed you out?

You peeked at your notifications, and sure enough, it was from him. You saw his profile picture at the beginning of the textbox, a funny weird picture which was most likely taken by Suna as he was fighting with his other half.

“Is it him?” Kori’s voice made you jump, you could never get used to how deep it was, it was kind of scary whenever she’d talk out of nowhere. You nodded, opening up your messages to see what he had said.

Tsumu: Hey where are u? Didn’t you have club today? It’s Wednesday I always meet you after school to walk you home.

Should you answer? Honestly you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to act like everything was fine. It wasn’t fine. You closed your phone, just leaving him on read as you went back to watching the TV in front of you. It was playing your favorite anime, and Kori was drawing as per usual right next to you.

“What did tweedledum say?” Kori asked curiously, her Apple Pencil scribbling and scraping against her iPad screen in a precise, sharp manner. You couldn’t help but crack a smile at Kori’s nickname for Atsumu. Kori called the twins “tweedledee and tweedledum”. You weren’t sure if she even knew their actual names still. Of course she gave Atsumu the tweedledum name because he was indeed dum(b) about 90% of the time.

“He just asked where I was. I usually stay late for club which ends at the same time as his practice so we usually walked home together. But I skipped today.” You explained as Kori hummed softly in response. Kori didn’t pry or try to bring up the subject again for the rest of the time you were at her house. She thought it would be better to just— let you not think about it too much.

She offered for you to stay over for the night, but you said no to that. But Kori was worried for you, she wanted to make sure you were ok—so she said she could walk you home at least, but you shook your head, you couldn’t make her walk you home too after all she’d done for you already. So you waved goodbye to her, saying goodbye to her mom that had just pulled in from work as well with a soft smile that was half genuine, and half fake.

One half was genuinely happy after Kori helped you out, but the other half was still stuck on that dumb blonde. You’d gotten several messages from him on both Snapchat and text.

Tsumu: hello?? Don’t just leave me on read babe wth??

Tsumu: where even are you? Are you at someone’s house??

You then jumped, shit. Your Snapchat location. You almost forgot to turn it off. You quickly opened the app and turned off your location sharing before shoving your phone back into your pocket, putting on your headphones to try and focus on something different. You blasted music on your walk home, listening to anything your shuffled playlist would give you.

It was like your playlist knew. It kept playing these sad angsty songs that you liked listening to during late nights where sleep just couldn’t find you. For the second time that day, you cried, letting out choked and uneven sobs that you once again did not know you were holding onto. You didn’t even know why you were so hurt by what he said, it’s not like he broke up with you or anything. But still— why did it hurt like he just shot you four times straight through your heart and soul?

It was as if the bullets remained, not exiting your body, but lodging themselves deeper into your torn up heart, digging deeper and farther inside of you, not having any plans of leaving you.

The only thing comforting you now were the snug fit of the soft foam ears of your headphones, and your long sleeves that couldn’t reach past your wrists, staying at an uncomfortably short length that only made you feel worse. Any little thing made everything worse. Everything was just too much. Some part of you thought maybe it would’ve been better to stay at Kori’s like she’d offered before. But you were already too far away to turn back now, you’d just have to hope that the comfort of your own home would suffice.

Osamu wasn’t as popular as his twin brother Atsumu. But that didn’t mean he was unpopular. He was just overshadowed by his twin, or as he called it, his “better half”.

It was annoying how they’d all gather around his brother, he too found it kind of disturbing and weird. However of course he felt a bit envious, insecure about his own likability and looks. Did people find his brother more attractive despite them being identical twins? But why? Was it just him?

You’d been friends with the twins for a long while now, ever since middle school, even before they had their distinguishing dyed hair. You liked Osamu better the minute you met them both. Atsumu was so brazen and confident, and he wasn’t afraid to express his high standards of his fellow players, even upperclassmen.

You found it off putting how offensive the blonde could be to people. It was irritating to be around him. Osamu was different. He was pleasant to be around. He had a sense of humor, was laid back, reserved, and friendly for the most part.

He loved food, you knew that from the first time you sat with him in middle school for lunch recess. His droopy tired eyes would widen and sparkle whenever he saw food in front of him, specifically onigiri. It was cute to you, how he’d light up and become a completely different looking person at the sight of some simple, but satiating food. It was one of the many reasons why you chose him and not anyone else.

You felt so confused and baffled that Osamu didn’t see himself the same way you did. You saw someone special, he saw someone that was second best.

You tried. You really did.

Tried to make him see that he was perfect in his own way, perfect in your eyes, perfect for you.

But there was only so much you could do. Only so much you could say. He had to choose to believe your words, and do the rest on his own. It was called self confidence for a reason after all.

Your anniversary was coming up, it’d been 2 years since you two started dating officially. You took this as an opportunity to plan something special for you and your boyfriend this year. You knew he’d been stressed lately because of the upcoming tournaments, and because his twin was putting more pressure on him than ever. You couldn’t count the amount of times you’d seen Atsumu chewing him out for accidentally missing a serve, a block, a receive, or a spike.

Every mistake he made, every single hesitation, his brother caught it and made sure Osamu knew exactly what he did wrong despite the poor gray haired twin already being well aware about what he’d done wrong. Having someone rub everything in his face was degrading and mentally exhausting.

Osamu was usually patient, you commended him for being as patient as he was with his brother. But it was taking a toll on his self esteem that was already fragile. Atsumu was basically hitting him in the same spot over and over again, not allowing the previous bruises heal before making a new one in the same area, eventually leaving a mark that won’t ever heal nor fully fade away.

But next week will be different. You’d make sure of it. You even enlisted the help from your friend to help you figure out some nice plans or ideas of what you could do with Osamu. However you knew at some point you’d have to overcome your beef with Atsumu for a moment, and ask him his thoughts. He was Osamu’s twin brother after all, he knew him better than anyone, maybe even better than you.

“You sure you gotta ask him?” Kori asked. Ugh, you didn’t want to of course. But yes, you’d have to put your dislike for his horrid personality aside for your boyfriend’s sake. You wanted your anniversary to be perfect after all.

“Can you come with me to ask him please?” You asked Kori, looking at her with pleading eyes, clasping your hands together. Kori looked at you, putting her pencil down as she sighed.

“Yeah no sorry you’re on your own.” Kori said with an apologetic expression. You let out a small groan, you knew Atsumu had some sort of beef with Kori, and Kori didn’t want to deal with a beef she didn’t even know was from.

“Oh come on please??”

“…Y/n you already know what will happen if I go with you.”

“Please Yoyo you’re my best friend—“ You tried using the nickname that usually got Kori’s attention, holding your friend’s hands with pleading eyes. If Kori went with you, you could make her ask instead of you, and if he got too exasperating to stand any longer, you’d have an excuse to leave.

Kori looked at you with a narrow and skeptical squint when you used that nickname on her.

“Don’t use that—“

“What, you don’t like it Yoyo-chan?”

“Bro.”

“I’ll stop if you come with me.”

“Nice try.”

You pouted and slapped her shoulder playfully with feigned anger as you crossed your arms over your chest with a sigh. But it couldn’t be helped, it wouldn’t be too horrible right?

“Huh? Yer asking me for help? That’s a new one.”

Ugh. It was horrible.

You covered your perturbed expression, but you couldn’t hide the sharp glare of your eyes as you tried to “fake it till you make it” as they say, and act cordial. But god, you wanted to tear off that smug looking grin off his face so badly. The tone he used was so condescending and belittling, it made you want to crush him with your bare hands, but you honestly couldn’t tell if that was just his normal tone of voice or if he was trying to sound like an egotistical asshole all the time.

Because if he was trying? He was doing an absolutely stupendous job.

“I just wanted to know— what are some of Osamu’s favorite things to do? I mean— I know what he likes but you’re his brother.. So I thought you’d know better than me.” You said, reluctantly swallowing a snarky insult you were about to accidentally say without thinking.

Atsumu scoffed and grinned at you, and you were expecting him to tease you which might’ve been your last straw, but surprisingly, he didn’t.

“Aw that’s sweet actually. I see why he loves ya so much.” You looked at him, expecting to maybe see some kind of smirk or malicious glint in his eyes, but no, he was genuinely saying that. You were pleasantly surprised, maybe this wouldn’t be too bad after all.

You felt yourself smile at the fact that Osamu had made it clear to his brother of his love for you. If even someone as dense and emotionally oblivious as Atsumu could tell, then Osamu must’ve talked about you a lot. The thought of him talking about you so much made your heart flutter, sending a rush of joy and warmth through your veins, fueling your excitement and determination to plan the upcoming special day.

As you two talked, your excitement grew with each suggestion Atsumu made. Your smile was spread wide across your face, filled with genuine adoration and anticipation from how excited you were to surprise your beloved.

However, you failed to realize that Osamu might’ve gotten spoiled early. Spoiled about the wrong thing.

He saw you, chatting with his twin with your beautiful sweet smile that melted his heart to a puddle whenever you showed him. It absolutely destroyed him to see you blessing his brother with the sight instead of him.

Osamu knew you weren’t super close with him, but it’d always been in the back of his mind.

Is he better than me? He’s probably more fun.

Am I too boring?

Am I less good looking?

Am I always gonna be known as “Atsumu’s twin brother”?

He cursed and muttered painfully to himself as he walked off, he couldn’t watch you continue smiling and talking with his better half so cheerfully. Oh if only he had heard what you were talking about, then he would understand everything.

But he left, his fragile heart and self esteem shattered to unmendable pieces of a jigsaw that would never fit back together because of its missing piece.

He felt like a waste. He truly did.

Oh but no it was the opposite of what he thought.. You were only talking to his brother so enthusiastically because you were planning something special for him.

However, things get lost in translation. Misconceptions cause one person to become blind to the truth, quick to catastrophize, making haste to blame and lock away their feelings to try and preserve what they have left to spare. For Osamu? This was probably the worst misunderstanding, worse than any other situation you’d hear about. This was worse.

Oh this was bad. You just kept smiling and talking eagerly with his brother from a distance, that's all Osamu could see. His mind made up the subject of the conversation he thought you were having with Atsumu, his mind immediately jumping to conclusions that were incorrect. Yet there you were, blissfully unaware of the accidental turmoil you’d caused your boyfriend to suffocate in. Alone. Basking with his old friend, second place.

It was the day, finally it had arrived— your anniversary! You had so many things rushing through your buzzing mind, your heart racing with the good kind of anxiety and anticipation of the day ahead. You absolutely couldn’t wait to see Osamu, you could barely contain yourself from excitement.

You found this restaurant with Kori by researching online. It was a place that specialized in making onigiri, which was an establishment run by an old married couple that had been working there for generations. Kori had said that usually these types of places had the best food, and she was certainly not wrong about that.

You knew it was his favorite, so you thought it would for sure make him happy if you took him there, right?

You were expecting to wake up with a message from Osamu, but weirdly, he didn’t, your notifications were as empty as you left them last night. You thought nothing of it, maybe he’d just been too busy this morning to text you, he’d probably just tell you in person.

With a slight skip in your step, you walked up the stairs of Inarizaki, the familiar chatter and buzzing of fellow students’ varying footsteps echoing throughout the long hallways filled with people. Your gaze searched each head, each person’s hair color registering in your mind as you scanned the area. You were searching for one with a certain shade of gray…

There he was, the one with gray hair by the lockers!

You had to push your way through some students who didn’t seem to understand that perhaps having a conversation in the middle of the hallway was inconvenient for everyone around them. But that didn’t matter right now, all that mattered was getting to your boyfriend.

“Samu! I found this super cute place that’s run by this family and they specialize in onigiri— I wanna take you there after school today ok?” Your vice was so chipper and enthusiastic, filled with adoration and love as he shut his locker door slightly harsher than normal. His gaze looked over to you, and you were immediately silenced by how cold it was. It was sharp, razor sharp, and frigid like a blizzard was raging in his dark irises.

You were confused— maybe he was just tired.. Yeah, that was probably it.

“��You ok Samu? We don’t have to go if you don’t want to I just thought that maybe you’d—“

“Why don’t ya go with Atsumu? You seemed awfully chummy with him earlier, so just go with him.” He snapped coldly. But his eyes, they looked so pained, hurt, and somber, not cold and apathetic like his tone.

And with that, he left you to drown in his quicksand-like words, his footsteps receding as he disappeared in the crowd of countless students.

If his words weren’t already enough, you were hit with the sudden realization that he had forgotten about your anniversary, the entire reason behind why you’d asked him to go with you.

What did he mean “you seemed awfully chummy with him earlier”?? What was he— oh.

Oh no.

No no no— he completely misunderstood!

You were talking with Atsumu about today and what you were planning on doing with HIM! It had nothing to do with Atsumu in the slightest!

But you knew Osamu. Too well at that. You knew that he’d be avoiding you now, avoiding you like the plague. He acted petty like that, just like his brother whom he refuses to admit is very similar to him in certain ways.

You knew he wouldn’t let you explain. But what really tore at your soul was that he didn’t even remember today was your anniversary. You had thought that maybe his lack of a “happy anniversary” message in the morning was a fluke, that he was just trying to hurry out the door to make it to school on time.

Now you knew he’d actually completely forgotten. Your throat felt so tight, your stomach hurt from guilt, but also betrayal.

Some part of you, some part of you knew this was going to happen. Or some form of this exact situation at least. You knew he felt inferior to his brother, and that it killed him inside. You’d tried your very hardest to make it so he knew you loved him and you always would choose him and no one else. But what could you do if he just wouldn’t believe your words, let alone believe in himself?

You, his s/o who he’s supposed to confide in, to trust in, to take your word over anyone else’s, didn’t trust your own words that you’d repeated so many times that you felt like a broken record.

He said he did understand and believe it, but he really didn’t. All those nods and silent “mhms” were all fake, he was never really listening. What occurred just moments ago that left you suffocating in pained silence was proof enough of that.

How many times did you have to fucking say it to him? Why were you the one that had to fix his insecurities? They were his insecurities, not yours. It’s self esteem, not your esteem. He was acting petty and jealous, and it was honestly starting to wear your patience thin.

Now that you were reflecting truthfully, you couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked to you about anything other than his stresses at practice, or his brother. It was always something negative.. you hadn’t realized how bad it wore you down.

You were constantly dumped with negative emotions, and honestly, it could be called trauma dumping at this point. It was mentally exhausting. Having to reassure him every single day of something you tried so hard to get him to believe in.

But if he still wouldn’t trust your word, why were you wasting your energy and devotion on his irreversible immaturity? Why did you have to do all the work only to receive bad news all the time and be expected to make him feel better about himself? It was making you feel bad about yourself. It was taking a toll on you.

You were basically being the positive energy for two people when it was already exhausting enough to be your own supporter.

You let out a sigh of relief, exhaling tension you didn’t know you truly had. Your mind had decided it was time for you to move on, time for you to make him figure it out on his own. He was a 2nd year student for god's sake, he was damn well old enough to fix his own issues.

However with the exhale, you felt your eyes prick with tears of hurt and betrayal from his carelessness, from his complete lack of regard for your own feelings. He had forgotten your 2 year anniversary, it wasn’t like it was on leap year or something! It was an easy date to remember!

But you assumed that he was so self consumed that perhaps his mind thought it was meaningless to remember. That you and your words were not memorable enough, nor important enough to form a lasting memory.

He was everything to you, and you were everything to him too. So why was he like this? Why was he so insecure and petty? Why didn’t he believe in what you were telling him so adamantly?

He only believed his own thoughts, his word came first. You loved him so much, but it was getting more and increasingly difficult to keep loving him unconditionally. It was an uphill battle.

And you were miserably losing.

You had no chance against his own self being the enemy. You would come in second place no matter how hard you fought because there was no first place for you to take.

You knew he wasn’t the sweetest guy around. He just wasn’t a warm and fuzzy type of person. But that didn’t mean he didn’t care about you, of course he did. You were the only one he didn’t actively search for dirt to use as blackmail material later.

He wasn’t the most warm and fuzzy person that’s for sure, but you loved him anyway. His fox-like eyes, his quiet and stoic demeanor, his tall stature, and his funny hobby of filming the twins fighting or bickering with each other to save for future references and laughs.

The team often wondered how he ended up making you, a kind, friendly, and sincere person, fall in love with him, the opposite of you. He thought about this as well, and sometimes felt guilty about the way he acted, how he was so detached and cold sometimes. Your love language being physical affection and touch combined with being Suna’s s/o was not a good synergy because he wasn’t the biggest fan of too much affection. Of course hugs, cuddles, kisses are all things he loves to give and receive. But in moderation. He got tired of it after too much.

However you did not. You could be pressed against him all day, in fact, holding his hand or being in contact every second you were with him sounded like the perfect scenario to you.

He never admitted it out loud, and didn’t plan to, but your hugs from behind his chair as he’s working on homework or studying were his favorite. The feeling of your arms wrapped around him from behind which allowed him to continue working on what was in front of him, but still allowing you to be near him, for your comforting presence be as close as possible.

Lately he’d gotten a lot of those, courtesy of the upcoming midterms. Now whenever you came over, he was always studying or working on schoolwork with his headphones on, his head leaning over and close to his desk as he worked countless hours and days, including nights. You were straying to get worried by the amount of empty energy drink cans that had accumulated on his desk, even on the top of his dresser. It was so bad that you could notice it while FaceTiming him. Not to mention the trash can underneath his desk was most likely full of them as well, just hidden from the view of the camera.

This was surely not good for him. At all.

Your mind was filled with concerned thoughts of him, worry swirling in your mind, distracting you from your own midterms that you had to study for as well. You suddenly had an idea during the peak of boredom during your math class.

You could go over to Suna’s after school, and buy you both some sort of bento box to eat. You knew Suna probably hadn’t eaten a real meal other than ice pops in days. He kept failing to realize that frozen fruity ice water in the shape of a flattened cylinder wasn’t exactly full of nutrients. Then you two could study together afterwards. Two minds working in tandem were better than two on their own. Or that’s what you thought at least.

Pulling out your phone discreetly, you texted Suna to let him know you were coming over, knowing that he probably would be on his phone right about now.

You: Hey I’m gonna come over today after school with some snacks and food, maybe we can study together?

….

Suna: yeah sure. I can’t text rn I gotta pay attention

You: oh my bad, I’ll see you after school

read at 3:32pm

You were a bit surprised that he was actively paying attention during class, especially since right about now he was most likely in AP world history. His tone even through text sounded stressed and a bit more harsh and cold than usual, but you knew he was anxious and worked up about the midterms which was absolutely valid and normal. But still, it lacked the usual hint of warmth that his texts usually had, regardless of his word choice.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of the clock, your gaze intently focused on each centimeter the second hand moved, slowly making its way around the entire circular clock on the wall, rotation after rotation. You swore the second hand moved backwards a couple times, as if time were quite literally reversing as you stared at the clock.

Your teacher’s lecture was essentially gibberish, your brain couldn’t focus on anything but the thought of going home to study and take care of your boyfriend who obviously needed the help. You were probably going to need help too from the looks of it, seeing as how you didn’t remember a single thing nor comprehend anything your teacher was saying.

RING RING

You practically fell out of your seat at the piercing ringing of the school dismissal bell. You sprung to your feet, as did everyone else, and as you were packing up your things, your teacher suddenly shouted something, his voice shouting over the commotion that had started from the bell’s relieving cry.

“Excuse me? The bell doesn’t dismiss you, I do!”

Oh for god's sakes— you wanted to take the damn bell and smack his head with it for saying that. Everyone audibly groaned, sitting back down with a synced chorus of irritated and grumpy sighs.

“Ok the homework is just studying and reviewing the accumulated material for the midterm on Thursday. You’re dismissed.”

…Are you serious?

That was it?

That was what he made you all stay for?

Oh nah god give you strength to not clock this bald, old, bitter ass, Walmart bill nye in the face with your textbook. You thought about it, seriously debating whether or not it’d be worth it. But you walked past him, deciding it wasn’t worth your time. You took a deep breath in and out, exhaling the pain of that math class as you walked with a determined look in your eyes. You had a plan.

You’d hit the convenience store on the way to Suna’s house, buy some food for the two of you, and then go over to his house to help him actually eat a normal meal, maybe clean up a bit, and then study of course.

With a fast and brisk pace, you walked into the store with a singular goal in mind, quickly picking out a couple of bentos for the both of you. Exiting the store right after you walked in, your quick pace never wavered as you made your way towards your boyfriend’s house, the plastic bag full of the food and snacks in your left hand, your bag in your right, determination in your eyes, and compassion in your heart.

As you knocked on the door, you saw the familiar face of his mom who immediately smiled upon seeing and recognizing you.

“Ah y/n, I’m so glad you’re here actually. Rintaro just got home— he’s been so quiet lately. He’s been locked up in his room everyday after school and on the weekends.. I think he’s studying but I’m a bit worried that it’s too much. The boy won’t listen to me either about drinking all those energy drinks.. maybe you’ll have better luck?”

His mom looked at you with hopeful eyes, and you smiled, nodding and reassuring her you’d try your best to help. His mom thanked you with a grateful smile, nodding as you walked up the stairs, down the familiar hallway to your boyfriend’s room.

You thought about knocking first. Should you? He was your boyfriend.. Did you really need to knock? Well it was courteous to knock before entering anyone’s do—

And suddenly the door opened for you, revealing the tall figure of Suna in front of you. His narrow, fox-like eyes droopy, tired, and strained from staring at a laptop for too long, or reading in the dark. He had faint dark circles underneath his hazel green eyes, and his hands were a bit shaky, just barely noticeable, probably from the obscene amount of caffeine he’d consumed these past few days to stay up and study. You showed him the bag full of various snacks and food with a little smile before he stepped aside, opening the for further for you to come into his room.

Your eyes widened slightly, but you stayed silent as you took in the whirlwind of disarray that was your boyfriend’s room. It looked like hurricane Katrina had ravaged his room. Empty cans everywhere, wrappers from countless ice pops, pencil and eraser shavings, crumpled up pieces of paper, and dirty clothes. It didn’t smell wonderful, that's for sure.

You saw just how exhausted he looked, how stressed and anxious he was. He never usually studied this hard for school, in fact— you’d never really seen him studying much at all. Midterms plus the stress of the upcoming volleyball qualifying tournaments were probably weighing down on him more than he could handle. You looked at him with a worried and sorry look on your face as you watched him eat his bento in silence.

He did not utter a single word, not a hello, not a how are you, just nothing but the silence and the sounds of chewing. It was awkward for you to say the least. So you decided to break this uncomfortable silence, trying to bring up a more light hearted topic to hopefully bring some light to his dark room.

“So.. Anything new and funny happen with the twins?”

You knew he liked to leave the twins to fight and bicker without stopping them because it was fun to film their brawls. He could care less about them hurting each other by accident, it was entertaining to watch them fight. He didn’t respond, he simply kept chewing, his eyes lost in thought as they stared at the ground with nothing but a vacant empty iris with no color or hue. It was like all the color was sucked out of his eyes, and it was starting to take his skin too. He was getting paler as you sat and stared at him!

Maybe he didn’t hear you, so you repeated yourself a second time, not noticing how the moment you started speaking, his fists clenched and trembled as he gripped his pant legs.

“Rin?? Can you hear m—“

“God y/n can you shut the hell up please?!” He snapped, his fist slamming against the hardwood floor, making the house shake just slightly, making you jump in surprise and shock. Your eyes were wide, searching his gaze for a hint of guilt or remorse, maybe he was just stressed and overstimulated?

But his eyes were ice cold, filled with irritation and frustration, not a hint of remorse in them. Did.. did he really mean that?

Surely he didn’t.

No he didn’t, right?

…Right?

“S-sorry..” You couldn’t help but stutter a bit, taken aback by his sudden outburst. He continued eating in silence, you could practically feel his frustration and stress seething off of him like smoke. You purse your lips together, struggling to not release your tears.

You knew it wasn’t all that bad, but still, it hurt to hear him say that to you. You knew it wasn’t supposed to make you feel this horrible, but it did. No amount of convincing yourself it wasn’t that bad of a sentence would take away or lessen the pain it gave you.

About 39 minutes of dead silence followed, and you got up, taking all the empty cans and containers scattered across his room and sticking it all into a trash bag, tying it up and leaving it by his door for him to take out later. You decided that maybe it would be best to leave him alone, and grabbed your things, opening the door to leave, glancing back at your boyfriend who was studying, wearing his headphones. You wanted to say goodbye, you wanted to say you loved him and to not push itself too far. Most of all, you wanted to hear him say that he loved you. But judging from earlier, he probably wouldn’t even want to hear your voice at all.

“See you later Suna.” You muttered under your breath, closing the door behind you as you left. Did he even realize you were leaving? He didn’t even look up from his desk. He didn’t thank you for the food. He didn’t thank you for cleaning up. He didn’t thank you for trying to help him. Nothing you did was acknowledged. You went out of your way to help him, and it appeared that maybe that wasn’t the right thing to do.

You quietly walked down the steps, opening the front door and closing it behind you.

With your back against the wall, hidden from Suna’s family, that’s when you began to feel tears welling up in your eyes, falling down your cheeks as you hid your face in your sleeves. Why were you crying? Was the stress of the midterms catching up to you too? Or was it purely because of his outburst?

You didn’t know. Hell— you didn’t know anything did you? Obviously not it seemed.

a/n - idk why but I’m in a very angsty mood 😂 I’m sorry for hurting you guys I really am 😭😭😭

[bingwriterxo]

first time

pairing: vada cavell x reader

summary: in which you and vada have your first time together

warnings: smut (character is 18+), 18+ (minors DNI), fingering

word count: 2200+

author's note: here she is: awkward, rambling vada. also (slight spoilers but...) [insert booksmart scene here]

"Mom?" you called out mid-yawn as you made your way downstairs, rubbing your eyes to try to wake yourself up more after the late-afternoon nap you had taken. When you were met with silence, you tried the other parent. "Dad?" Again, no response.

You shrugged as you walked into the kitchen, and your eyes narrowed as you caught sight of a piece of paper laying on the counter. You picked it up and read it over quickly, excitement surging through your veins.

Work trip this weekend. See you Sunday night. 

- Mom & Dad

vada can come over :)

The last part was scribbled on like an after-thought, and you knew your dad had written it. 

You dropped the paper onto the counter and pulled your phone from the pocket of your hoodie, immediately dialing your girlfriend's number. Leaning back against the counter, you waited for her to pick up. 

"Hey." Her voice was groggy, like she had also just woken up.

"Were you sleeping?" you asked. 

She hummed. "Yeah. Figured you were asleep when you didn't answer my texts so I thought I'd nap, too." You heard some shuffling on the other end and then Vada yawned. "What's up?"

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to stop yourself from grinning. "My mom and dad are gone for the weekend. They said you could come over. I've got the house to myself, so..."

"Movie marathon!" she shouted excitedly. You listened as she scrambled out of her bed, hopping around her bedroom in search for things to pack in her duffle bag. "I'll leave in, like, ten. Put something good on the TV!" You could hear her smiling through the phone.

"Okay, see you soon. Love you." 

She squealed. "Love you!"

* * *

The movie playing on the television was boring you half out of your mind. You had chosen a random one that you knew Vada had been wanting to watch with you, and you had tried to focus on it for the first half-hour, but something kept distracting you. Well, something aside from your girlfriend's nonstop rambling. 

"I used to have the biggest crush on Blake Lively as a kid, you know," Vada said, her eyes trained on the screen. Her hand was digging in the bowl of popcorn that was resting between the two of you, and you giggled as she shoved some of the snack into her mouth. "But, man, is Anna Kendrick hot," she mumbled around the food. "I mean, obviously I know she's hot, 'cause, like, I'm not blind, but something about her in this movie just hits different."

You weren't ignoring her, per se, but you definitely weren't fully listening, instead choosing to stare at your girlfriend's side profile as she munched on the popcorn and talked with her mouth full--a habit of hers that you had hated at first but now couldn't help find somewhat endearing (as long as you weren't looking at her face-on). 

"And, well, Blake Lively is Blake Lively, and who doesn't have a crush on her?" Vada continued. If you had been paying attention to the movie on the screen, you were almost sure you wouldn't have been able to hear any of it over the girl's talking, anyway, so it was better that you weren't watching, right?

When she realized she hadn't heard from you in a few minutes, she glanced your way, and you smiled softly. She offered you a confused grin. "Are you not watching?"

You hummed and turned back to the television. "No, no. I am," you lied. You could feel her eyes on you, and you knew that if you looked at her, she'd be giving you that damn lovestruck look she always had on her face when she was around you, the one that made you weak in the knees and had your heart beating rapidly.

"Y/N," she said, calling your attention back to her. You had been correct--she was staring at you with a half-smile, like she didn't even realize her lips were upturned, and soft eyes, 

"Yes?"

Her eyes flitted down to your lips quickly, then back to your eyes. "Can I kiss you?"

You giggled. "You don't have to ask, Vads. We're dating."

She shrugged, hiding in her shoulders for a moment. "I know," she said, voice shy and slightly embarrassed. "But I just wanna make sure every time. Because, like, what if one day I don't ask, and you don't want a kiss, and then--"

You pressed your lips to hers, effectively silencing her, and sighed when she kissed back eagerly. You reached down, pushed the empty popcorn bowl to the floor, and then easily maneuvered onto Vada's lap. She grinned against you, hands flying to your waist. 

"I always like when you're on top when we make out," she began, "because I like the weight." She paused, eyes wide. "I'm not, like, saying you're heavy or anything, not that that would be a problem if you were, obviously, but it's like a weighted blanket! You know, like how they can help anxiety and--"

"Vada," you said softly, eyes flickering between her own. 

She gulped, and her fingers twitched against your sweatshirt. "Yeah?"

"Could you just kiss me?"

She bit her lip. "Yeah. That I can definitely do." 

Vada stretched her neck up, and you leaned down. You met in the middle, lips moving feverishly against each other. Your arms were wrapped around her shoulders, playing with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck, while her hands slipped beneath the hem of your sweatshirt, her skin warm on yours. 

Her tongue swiped over your bottom lip at the same time as her fingers rose upward, the tips of her thumbs beneath your breasts. She pulled away quickly. "Are you not..." She moved her hands up a little more, feeling nothing except skin. "You're not wearing a bra."

You shook your head. "Nope." You grinned. "Is that a problem?"

"Definitely not," she breathed out, pulling you back into a bruising kiss. You groaned at the feeling, and she took it as an invitation, her tongue smoothing over your own. Vada's touch rose higher until she was palming your breasts softly, and you hummed against her.

After a moment, you nipped at her bottom lip and pulled away, your breathing heavy as you stared at her. Her pupils were blown, her lips were swollen, and you gulped before reaching down and pulling your sweatshirt off. Her eyes widened at the sight.

"Woah," she said as though she had never seen you topless before. You rolled your eyes with a smile because she had the same reaction every time the two of you did this, and then you leaned back in.

She seemed to still against you, and you reached down, urging her hands to keep moving. She took the hint, her thumbs beginning to circle your nipples, and you whined, your hips bucking up before you could stop them. 

Vada pulled away and dropped her head to your chest, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your sternum until she reached your breasts. She took one of your nipples into her mouth, and you threw your head back, a soft moan slipping from your lips. Her tongue ran along the bud while her lips sucked on it.

"Fuck, baby," you groaned, arching your back to push yourself into her touch more. 

Her hands dropped to your waist, though her mouth didn't stop, and she played with the hem of your shorts. "Do you wanna...?" she asked when she pulled back, staring up at you, her fingers dipping. 

"Yes," you said quickly, nodding to emphasize your agreement. "Yes, please."

Vada grinned, circled her arms around your waist, and then carefully laid you down on the couch, resting between your legs. Her mouth was quickly on your chest again as one of her hands slipped beneath your shorts, her finger running over your clothed slit. You squeaked in delight, hips canting up. 

"I can feel you through your underwear," Vada said. "You're really wet."

You nodded shyly, glancing away. "Yeah, well..."

She frowned and reached up, her free hand resting on your cheek and making you look at her again. "It's not bad. It's good. Really good, actually." She grinned, and you couldn't help your own smile. "Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, I have no idea what I'm doing, really. Well, I kind of do, since, you know, I also have a vagina, but, like, I've obviously never had sex with anyone else, so I don't know if I'll do it right, and I want your first time to be good."

"Vads, baby," you cooed. "It'll be great if it's with you."

"Okay, okay," she said. She leaned up and kissed you again, her hand slipping beneath your panties. You both groaned, you at the feeling and her at the feeling of you. She rubbed your clit experimentally and you moaned.

"Shit," you cursed. "Yeah, that's--that's good."

Vada started circling it softly, and you couldn't help your whimpering. She was careful, a little too careful, but you weren't going to rush her, especially since it felt amazing.

"You can..." You gasped as she sped up a little. "Yeah, I was gonna say--"

"That's good, then?" she asked. Her eyes were on you, watching all of your reactions, trying to make sure she was doing the right thing.

"Very," was your short response. 

"Can I...well, should I...go in?"

"Yeah," you murmured. "Yeah, okay."

Her hand pushed down just a little bit farther, and then--

Oh.

You gasped at the feeling. Vada glanced up. "Is that...okay? Or was it better earlier? Or--"

You gulped and looked down at her, offering her a half-hearted smile. "Babe...I--I don't think that's the hole you were going for..." you whispered, trying not to embarrass her. Her eyes widened, and a blush immediately painted over her face. She pulled out and then pulled away, even though you reached out for her, trying to bring her back in. 

"Oh my god, oh my god. I am so sorry," she rushed out. "I just...I didn't even realize that I had gone down that far, and I just went for it, and--oh my god, I am so sorry, baby."

You grabbed at her shirt, pulled her toward you again until she was hovering above you. "It's okay, Vads," you promised. She was fidgety, clearly anxious, and you reached up, cupping her cheek. "Baby, I swear, it's okay."

She bit her lip. "I just fucked up our first time having sex. Oh my god, it's our first time having sex and I just...I just put my finger--"

You giggled a little. "It's okay. I'm fine; we're fine." You leaned up and kissed her gently. "Do you wanna try again?"

Vada looked at you hesitantly. "Can I?" she asked. "I kind of feel like I need to try to redeem myself and get my finger in the right place. Because, I swear, I know where it's supposed to go. I promise."

"Vada, please try again," you said, the pleading in your voice clear as day. "I really want you to."

She nodded. "Okay." She leaned down and pressed her lips to yours, a little rough in her nerves. You didn't mind, accepting the kiss happily. 

Her fingers started to roam down your body again, and you inhaled sharply at the feel of her slipping beneath your panties again. Her fingers started at your clit, rubbing quick circles, and you moaned into her, her mouth catching the sound. 

"Okay," she said, determined. "This time I got it." Her finger slipped downward, and you felt her pressing against your entrance. "That's right, right?"

"Yes," you said. "Yes, baby. Please, just--"

She pushed her finger into you and you groaned, back arching. "God, you're tight, baby. Feels so good."

"Fuck," you mumbled as she started thrusting. She curled her finger whenever she was fully inside, and it wasn't hard for her to find the rough spot of your walls. "Shit, shit, Vads."

She grinned and dipped down to your neck, lips hot against your skin. You could feel her kissing and nipping and sucking, but you could only pay attention to the fact that she was in you. 

"You can," you started breathlessly, "you can add another one." 

Vada hummed into your neck and slipped a second finger in you. You gasped at the stretch, hands flying to grip her hair. Her thumb reached up to play with your clit, and she quickened her pace. You were rolling your hips against her, whimpering.

"You're so pretty," she said, voice muffled. "So good, baby."

The praise pushed you to the edge. "Vads, I'm gonna cum," you whined. She thrusted into you hard once, and then again, and then you were cumming around her fingers.  At the same moment your orgasm washed through you, her teeth nipped at your pulse point, and you shivered, fingers tightening in her hair and a moan of her name falling from your lips.

She pulled out of you gently, grinning smugly as she did, and you watched as she brought her fingers to her mouth, licking them curiously. Her eyes widened. "Okay," she said decidedly. "Next time, I'm going down on you."

You chuckled and bit your lip. "You think there's gonna be a next time?" you teased.

Vada frowned. "I thought I redeemed myself pretty well," she huffed. 

"I dunno. We might have to do it again...just to check."

She grinned. "Not a problem with me." And then her lips were on yours again and her hand was sliding down your front. 

[gojo-mochi]

“C’mon baby show me that you care.”

CW: Shanks is your dad’s friend in this au. Modern!AU. Fem!Reader. Toxic!Shanks. Age gap (Reader is in first year of College 20s and Shanks is about 40s), Degradation, dubcon, spanking, fingering, P/V, toxic coercion, manipulation. Slight voyeurism. Sex on top of a car. Nicknames (Baby and sweetie)

A/N: I um don't know what to say. Haha - hi? *twirls hair* I was listening to Vampire by Olivia Rodrigo while I posted this hah

WC:4.3k

You first met Shanks at a family barbeque, he was an old friend of your dad but he didn’t really look that old to you. Sure he had some stubble going on but his hair showed no signs of graying or another like that. When your dad began to introduce you to him, you first noticed the scarring over his eye, he catches you staring and winks at you. “Careful, look too long and you might end up falling for me.” Your face turned as red as his hair at that moment, your dad didn’t seem to take it seriously as he laughed and smacked Shanks’s back, “Ah, still up to your old tricks huh, Shanks?” Shanks laughed back, finally saying hello to you properly. You wished that you paid more attention to your dad’s words at that time…

Months passed before you saw Shanks again, this time you found him with a woman wrapped around his arm, walking into the cafe you were already sitting at. You didn’t pay him much attention and focused back on your lecture notes, scribbling down notes after notes, lost in your studying when Shanks plonked down on the seat across from you. He gave you a wide grin and a wave of his hand, “Yo! Y/N, right? Long time no see!” You were a bit startled but pleasantly surprised that he remembered you. You tucked some hair behind your ear as you greeted him, “Ah that’s me. Your name was Shanks?” 

His eyes glinted as he leaned over closer to you, “Aw come on now, don’t tell me you forgot about little ol’ me that quickly?” He got really close to your personal space, placing a hand over your notebook even, making you focus solely on him. He stares at you for a couple of seconds, “Oh wow, you've gotten prettier since the last time I saw you? What’s your secret, hmm, baby?” That pet name he used went straight to your head, making you stutter as you try to think of what to say, Shanks chuckles, bringing his hand to softly pat your blushing cheeks. “Trade secret? I won’t tell if you don’t~” He winked, and his words were not lost on you, as he stood up to take the open seat directly next to you now.

Knocking your thighs together as he absentmindedly picks up your notebook and flips thru your notes. “Wow, smart and pretty, aren't cha?” He casually placed a hand on your thigh, his pinky faintly touching the hem of your skirt. “Hard to find girls like you nowadays…” He murmurs like he was talking to himself, you fidget under his touch, feeling hotness bubble up inside of you. “Um, Mister Shanks, can I have my notes back? I have an exam I need to study for.” He gasps dramatically, “Mister Shanks? I thought we were closer than that, baby.” He squeezes your thigh and lets go of it in the next second, placing your notebook back down, and getting up. You thought he was getting ready to leave but he took your phone from you and put his number in, throwing it back to you with a carefree smile, “If you ever need any help with your notes or anything else. Be sure to call me, ok, baby?” 

He finally leaves you after that, assumingly back to that woman he came in with but you didn’t bother to check as your heart and mind was reeling from that interaction with him. That night you stared at the number saved on your phone under the contact ‘Shanks <3’, you didn’t text him that night. You didn’t text him at all actually, chalking his actions up to it all being some sort of game to him. You were more focused on your studies at the moment, you couldn’t be roped up in some random older guy’s scheme. So more months pass, you did well in your studies and even found yourself a boyfriend! Forgetting all about Shanks during that time. 

Shanks did come over though, more often during this period, he and your dad started hanging out more so he was invited to some family dinners. He didn’t do much except for the occasional touches and multiple winks. He asks you about your studies and stuff you like at the dinner table. You try not to blush a lot when he talks to you, but he makes it hard from how he focuses his attention on you. Giving follow-up questions, remembering things you told him from the previous dinner, and even giving you small gifts from time to time. You were slowly warming up to his charms, falling for all his honeyed words and alluring touches. 

It was supposed to be another nice family dinner with Shanks again this week, something that you look forward to. But tonight as you walked into your home, you slammed the door behind you and walked straight to your room without a word. Your parents came to check up on you, knocking on your door and asking if everything was alright, but you shooed them off saying that everything was fine. But, everything was not fine, you just found out that your boyfriend had been cheating on you for months now, you just confronted him earlier that day and broke up, so all the pain and emotions were crashing down on you. 

You buried your head under your pillow as you wailed and cried your little heart out, you heard the door creak open but mumbled “Go away.” to whoever came in. They didn’t seem to listen though as you felt your bed dip and a soothing hand start to rub at your back. You angrily shot up to yell at them, “I told you to go away!”, tears blurring your vision you could still see that this was not your parents but Shanks who came in to soothe you. His hand is still on your back as you gape at him, “Easy there, sweetie.” You threw your pillow at him, smacking him right in the face, you felt a little bit bad seeing him just take the hit full on without even dodging or taking his hand away. 

He grabbed the pillow and placed it by your side, “Feel better?” his hand continued to rub circles on your shoulders, lessening the tension you first felt when he came in. His tone was so soft and sweet, that your walls were melting bit by bit and you threw yourself on to him this time. Clutching at his shirt, bawling your heart out, spilling tears and all the things your ex-boyfriend ever did to you. His shirt was getting wet but he didn’t seem to care, pulling you in closer to sit on his lap as he tucks his chin on your head and envelops his arms around you. His scent invaded your nose, a musky and spicy cologne that he always wore, it made your head spin a bit. 

His hand weaves through your hair, petting it gently as he cooed to you, listening quietly to your woes. As your voice gets more hoarse later on, falling to whimpers and burbles, he leans back, cupping your face in his hands. You shake your head, trying to cover your face from him seeing it. “Aw, come on now, baby. Let me see that pretty face of yours.” He slowly takes your hand into his, and tilt your chin up to face him. You knew you looked like a mess right now, you felt like a mess right now. But as soon as Shanks saw your face, he gave you a long smooch on your forehead, your nose, and your cheeks, lingering on each kiss a bit longer than the last. 

“There’s my girl, that guy doesn’t know what he lost.”  

His stubble tickles you a bit with each kiss he places on you, making you feel almost giddy on the inside. His words and action were stirring something inside of you, making you do something that you wish you could take back. You surge forward, planting your lips on his, even going as far to poke your tongue out at him. “Mmpf!” Shanks was shocked at this sudden intrusion, allowing you to slip your tongue in his mouth sloppily, tasting a strange mixture of mint and something bitter, remembering that he usually likes to sips wine at the table. He pushes you away once your hand goes to paw at his bulge. 

Hands gripping down on your shoulders as he stares at you, wide eyes, lips parted and a bit swollen and shiny with your lipgloss smeared all over it. You teared up again, blubbering out an apology as shame filled your gut. “I-I’m really sorry, oh my fucking god, what’s the hell wrong with me? I-” Shanks holds your tear stricken face in his hands and wipes away the oncoming tears, shushing you gently, “It’s alright, haha, I’m not mad that a cute girl like you decided to come on to me, to be honest. But, tell me, sweetie, is this something you really want?” His tone got deeper, laced with something that made your stomach churn.

Shanks leans in to kiss you on the lips again, tracing your bottom lips with his tongue tenderly. Pulling away and chuckling as you whine, hands clutching on his shirt, eyes begging for more. “Now, now, your parents are still worried, waiting in the kitchen, I don’t think you want them to come in here and find us like this, now would we?” His hands travel down your chest, squeezing at them for a bit, before unbuttoning your jeans, his fingers dancing on the edge of your panties. “Don’t worry though, baby, after all, I did promise your parents that I’d help you. But only if you can beg me for it, can you do that for me?” 

His fingers dip inside your panties, feeling the wetness that was already forming, his tone changed again when he asked, “Can you say ‘Please make me feel good, Shanks?’”  You hiccup the words he wanted out, feeling your mind start to get hazy from his actions already, his other hand leads your head down onto his shoulder. “Good girl, now try to be quiet for me, alright?” He didn’t spare another second after asking that, his fingers moving quickly inside of you, plunging in with such precision that you felt an orgasm building fast already. You bit down on his shoulder as the almost shocking orgasm washed over you, muffle your screams and moans. 

Shanks fingers left you, making you clench around nothing, feeling utterly empty, he laughs outright when you whine. His digits poking at your lips, as you obediently opened your mouth to lick them clean. After you were done, he pats your head and gives you one last kiss, “I have to go now, sweetie. Be a good girl and try not to worry your parents, yeah?” When you tug at his shirt and ask him to stay, his face changes into a disappointed one. “I thought I told you to be a good girl, yeah? You can handle the night without me, can’t you? You’re a big girl, sweetie.” He sighs out, making you drop his shirt and shrinks back into yourself with a soft “Sorry..” escaping your lips.

His mood instantly changes upon seeing you so docile, cupping your chin up and pressing a heated kiss on your lips, with a promise of, “Don’t worry, I’ll come back for you soon, sweetie. I’ll be sure to show you what a real man is.” And with that, he left, closing your bedroom door behind him. You try to strain your ears to catch the words he was saying to your parents but they were too far away for you to make any sense of it. You crawled back in your bed, too tired to clean up or change, opting to just throw away your jeans, rubbing your thighs together as the slick in between started to feel uncomfortable. Sleep that night came fast but it was not peaceful, you tossed and turned, your mind replaying your breakup with your ex and what happened with Shanks in your bedroom. You didn’t know what to feel about it or the words he said to you. 

Shanks disappeared for a couple of weeks after that incident, you asked your dad once when he was coming over for dinner again but your dad just shrugged saying that Shanks seemed to be busy. Bitterness bubbles up in your heart, Shanks was just like those other guys, he didn’t care about you. You pushed down any feelings of attachment or affection for him, that was until, one day after you were done with class and was walking home. A red mustang pulled up right beside you, the window rolled down and Shanks winked at you from the driver seat.  

You didn’t know if you wanted to cry from happiness or anger at this point, you chose anger seeing at how casually he greeted you like nothing happened. “The hell do you want?” You spat out, eyebrows furrowed in, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Shanks got out of the car and came to embrace you, strong arms trapping you in his hold. The tears came out as you smack and hit at his chest, venting out your frustrations at him. Your meager attacks barely did any damage to him apart from the sparse grunts. Once you exhausted your strength and your body limped on to Shanks, him rubbing those same damning circles on your back that always seem to calm you down. 

Your cries settled down to barely audible whimpers and Shanks usher you in his car. You slump down in the passenger seat and he buckles you in, getting in the driver seat soon after. You lean your head on the window, watching the scenery pass you by, silently cursing yourself for being so easy. You should be more mad at him, curse him out more, hit him more, but when Shanks’ hand comes to squeeze your thigh and he gives that charming smile, your heart shoves your rational mind out of the way. 

“Why did you leave?”

Shanks turns down the radio, glancing at you, “What was that, baby?” You dry swallowed, feeling your throat burn a bit, he’s still using that nickname on you. “You left, without a word. You left me alone, after what happened, I mean, I thought that…” You trail off, pressing your head against the window, feeling childish for voicing out your feelings to a man almost twice your age. Shanks let out a hum, his hand on your thigh started to trace small circles and a repeating pattern on it. It was almost hypnotic the way he does it, you immediately felt your body calming down from his touch alone. 

“Sorry, something came up for me, and I got super busy. I wanted to contact you, but I don’t have your number, remember? And it’s not like I can contact your dad and be like ‘Hey, can you tell your cute daughter who I fingered bang in your house that I’ll be busy for a couple of weeks?’” 

You swat at his shoulder, with no malice or anger this time, giggling as you do so. “Shanks!” He sticks out his tongue at you as a retort. “I really am sorry, baby. That’s why I’m taking you somewhere special tonight.” You sink back in your seat, fiddling with your hands a bit. “Where are we going?” Shanks turns to look at you for a second, winking, “Somewhere special, I promise you’ll love it.” That ‘somewhere special’ turned out to be on top of a hill, overlooking the city. Far away enough from the light pollution so that the night sky shone like diamonds above the two of you. 

Shanks took your hand and led you out of the car to view the sights, “Pretty, isn’t it?” His hand slid down to your back, you scoff and cross your arms, “If you’re gonna say ‘But it is not as pretty as you’ I’m gonna leave.” Shanks laugh heartily at that, squeezing your waist and pulling you in his side. “Is that what boys your age say?” You chewed on your lips for a bit, thinking of what to say. “Why does that matter to you?” You felt a little bit smug for only a couple of seconds as Shanks pinned your back to the front of his mustang. Easily lifting you up and pushing you back on the hood, forcing his knee to come right in the middle of your skirt. 

He nipped at your neck as his sultry voice murmured out, “Cause I believe that I promised that I would show you what a real man is, isn’t that right?” Your hands clawed at his back, as his knee started to nudge under your skirt, rubbing a wet spot on your panties. “Wait-here? What if someone sees us?” Your nails dig in a bit as he replaces his knee with his hand instead, sucking in a heavy breath at feeling how drench you already gotten. “No one comes up here besides me and I think you like the idea of getting caught, don’t you? Daddy’s precious little girl is a needy slut, isn’t she?”

You liked to think that you were better than this, to let some older man degrade you and fuck you out in the open. Haven’t you learned your lesson from your last ex and hearing all those stories fuck boys and frat boys around campus. Shanks exude the same kind of energy those guys have, confident, arrogant, charming, all wrapped in a hot package with red hair and clean stubble. Speaking of ‘packages’ you wonder if Shanks can back all his talk, as Shanks’ hand expertly began to plunge in and you of you in a swift pace. Your thighs shakes and tense up, as your moans and whimpers fill the night air.

Shanks bit down on your neck hard enough to leave a painful mark on it, you hiss in pain, clawing even deeper on his back. The sudden pain with his increasing pace made you reach your peak hard, legs spasming out, ankles locking in behind his back. His hands roughly pull up your skirt and rip open your blouse, a few buttons breaking off in the action. Tugging down your bra and latching a mouth on your nub. Biting at one and tweaking the other one with his hand, it was painful to say the least, you tried to tell Shanks just as much but he just replied with; “Hah? You can take it, can’t you? You’re a big girl. Smart, pretty, more mature than the other sluts at your campus, right?” 

He wasted no time, sliding your panties to the side, you didn’t even realize that he got his cock out and was already slapping it against your sensitive bud. You flinch and try to crawl away, pushing yourself further back on the hood of the car, but Shanks shakes his head and makes a disappointed noise at you. “You’re really going to do this now? Tch, looks like I was wrong about you after all.” He didn’t make a move to pull you back in, just leaning back and shaking his head once more as he looked down at you with a disapproving glare. “Guess, I’ll just take you back home.” 

Your heart leaped into your throat, your stomach twisted into a pit of anguish, you grabbed Shanks’ wrist and yelled. “Wait! No, I’m ok now! I just-I just was surprised, but I want to do this, I swear-please don’t leave me again.” Your tears welled up again as you blubbered on pleas for Shanks to stay. Shanks yanks you forward, bringing you chest to chest with him, “You really want this?” You nod frantically, Shanks smiles at that, wiping away your fat tears with the back of his hand. “You know what to say then, right? Tell me how much you want my cock, sweetie.” 

You nod again, gulping down shakily, “I want it, I want your cock to fuck me, please, Shanks, please.” Shanks gripped your chin forcefully, applying pressure as his eyes darken over when he stared down at you. “Yeah? Are you going to be a good girl now and listen?” “Yes, yes, please, I’ll be good for you, I’m a good girl for you, Shanks.” Shanks growls, releasing your chin and twisting your body around so your back is now to him, as he bends you over the hood of his car. “Good, but that doesn’t mean you’re not gonna get punished for what you did earlier.” 

You didn’t really know what you did that warrant a punishment but you were too afraid to get on Shanks’ bad side again and make him leave so you complied. Hands scrambling to find purchase on the slippery surface of the car’s hood as you got spanked. You cried in pain, begging for him to go a bit softer but he answered you with another spank, “Take your punishment like a big girl.” Smack! Smack! Your legs barely were able to keep you up at this point, being pushed aside by Shanks’ knees as he positioned himself behind your entrance, his bulbous head gliding over your folds twice. 

Collecting some of your arousal on his tip before he started pushing it in, the stinging pain combined with the pain of being stretched out almost made you pass out but you held on. Shanks lets out a hefty sigh as he fully bottoms out inside of you, hands reaching over to play with your clit to give you some relief as he angles his hips back and slam into you. Over and over again, wet plaps sounded in the air mixed along with his grunts and your soft whimpers and moans. His other hand holds on to your hips firmly, pulling you back on his cock as you bounce off with each smack.

Whether it was because Shanks was a good fuck, the pain and exhaustion of everything before, or a combination of all, you felt another orgasm coming on quick. Your stomach coiled up but your lips couldn’t form any words to let Shanks know that you were about to burst. But he felt it though, from how much your cunt started to tighten up around him. 

“That’s it, baby, take it, take my cock in that slutty pussy of yours.”

He starts to go faster.

Plaps Plaps Plaps

“Not such a fuckin bitch, anymore, aren’t cha? Just needed to get fucked and you’re behaving well, again.”

Plaps Plaps Plaps Plaps

“Nghh, fuck, good girl, such a good pussy for me, fuck, I love you.”

And with that being said, you released the coil in your stomach, squirting all over his cock, as Shanks groaned and pulled out, grabbing your shoulder and pulling you down on your knees in front of him. “Open.” He grasped open your chin, tapping his cock on your cheek until your tongue lolled out, spurts of hot white cum covered your face and mouth. He lets go so you could swallow down the bitter substance. After a few seconds of panting from the both of you, Shanks leaves you for a bit, as you hear the sound of his car door opening and rustling, Shanks comes back with a bag. 

Grabbing some towels and wipes from the bag, he starts to clean you up, gently and lovingly, all the while praising you for your effort. Your mind was in turmoil after this sudden switch, your thoughts went back to what he said before. “I love you.” You wondered if he really did mean that, “There, all cleaned up, you did a great job, baby.” He planted a sweet kiss on your forehead and helped you on your feet, ushering you in the passenger seat once more. You slumped in the chair, inhaling the crisp clean of his air freshener and the leather seats. 

“Now, where do you like to shop for clothes, baby?” You tilt your head at his question, making him chuckle; “What? I can’t let you go back home looking like that, now can I? Don’t worry though, I’ll pay for everything, just let me know what you want and where to go, sweetie.” He started up the car and began heading back down the hill. Turning the radio on on a nice volume, as the two of you rode in silence for most of the time. You look over to him alot, with fear, confusion, admiration, love, lust, and so many other emotions swirling around inside of you. 

You needed answers but you didn’t know what questions you should ask first. Do you really love me? What was that about? Do you do this to other girls too? Why did you hurt me? What am I to you? However the only question that you ended up asking Shanks that night was; “Can I see you again soon?” Shanks looks at you, with that charming smile of his, and brushes his hand on your cheek; “Of course, baby, I’m not letting you go that easily.”

[izudeeilo]

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You can study me

Sero hanta smau

volley-ball player sero x art student fem!reader, no quirks au, college au.

a/n it's been a while since I've written something like this...I'm nervous

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Senior year is finally here! You thought that this time, the teachers would be more lenient with you and your classmates, but not at all. In fact, they even got stricter... They assigned you a half year-long work, which would be worth 30% of your final grade. What does the work consist of, you ask? Making a complete study of the life of a student you need to pick and paint it.

But... you can't pick a friend.

Profiles • Part .2

Part 1

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You sat outside, pen in one hand, the other on your lap. Scribbling on the piece of paper quick doodles of a random animal. A rooster...a chicken…why was this one that popped in your mind, you don’t know.

A sight escapes your mouth as you look up at the sky. “This is going to be a nightmare” you mutter.

You would’ve been more ok with all of this if you could’ve chosen someone close to you instead. So much easier, simpler. But in the art course? nothing was easy.

You sometimes thought of quitting, completely. But the love you had for art kept you here and perhaps your supportive friends too. Seriously they meant everything to you, they’ve been here through thick and thin. They could be…themselves but you’d do anything for them, the other way around as well.

Taking your phone from your pocket, you check the time — 12:40 pm. “I should already be on my way to the cafeteria.” You get up slowly, grab your bag from the ground and shove the paper and pen inside.

As you enter the building, you greet with a wave of your hand some classmates you had met in your morning class. When you enter the cafeteria, you grab the tray from the pile and pick up a sandwich, a fruit salad and you pay for a soda can at the vending machine.

You weren’t particularly hungry today.

Scanning the room you make eye contact with your friends a bit further away. You march over to them and install yourself next to Himiko, Izuku in front.

”I’ve missed you guys so bad.” you say hugging Himiko’s arm. She hugs you back with a big smile. “Us as well!” she chuckles. “It’s only the first day of the week and I’m already tired.” adds Izuku with a slight smile before taking a bite from his sandwich.

You begin eating as well. “Can you guys believe it's the last year we’ll be together..” you say to them. “Oh don’t start already or I’m going to cry.” says Himiko, turning her head.

“ I know we’ll definitely be busy after but ain’t no way we’re getting separated, you better believe me, you ain’t getting rid of us” she taps her finger on your cheek in a teasing way.

”Oh that I already know” you chuckle.

Izuku suddenly perks up and says “By the way y/n I talked to some of my classmates and I’m sorry most of them don’t feel comfortable with that…” “Oh right mine as well…they say they don't want to meet new people or whatever” himiko adds.

”Oh well I did expect that honestly” you cross your arms and straighten yourself. “Guess the whole art course is going to struggle with finding someone” you sigh and begin to wonder how else are you going to find a student willing to participate in that. Ochaco may try with her classmates but you already have an idea of how it’s going to end.

You’d like someone with personality as well and there’s plenty of people like that here but—

You were cut off by a cheerful voice.

”Izuku you’re here!” A girl with pretty pink hair stopped in front of the table with her tray in hand. You all turned your head at her.

”Oh I didn’t know you were with friends my bad you guys!” she smiles.

”No it’s alright, you wanted something?” he responds.

”The boys are over there and I wanted to know if you wanted to come sit with us! Your friends can come as well if they’d like” She smiles at the both of us.

“Yeah for sure! Does it bother you guys?” He says looking at us.

”Not at all” Himiko and you respond at the same time. You look at each other before chuckling slightly.

”Perfect, follow me!” the girl begins walking ahead. “The name’s Mina by the way!”

”I’m y/n!” you respond back.

”And I’m Himiko”

You all reach a long table with four people already sitting and talking.

Four boys to be exact, one had blond hair and was just staring at the other three with a raised eyebrow, another had red hair and was laughing at something another blond said next to him and the last one with longer black hair was holding his sandwich with a smirk on his face.

”I am here and brought companyyy” Mina chants at the boys.

They perk up at the sound of her voice and all turn their heads towards us. You and Himiko smile not knowing what to do next.

”Hey, these are my friends, Himiko Toga and Y/n L/n !” Izuku introduces us.

He turns to us and points at the boys one by one.

”This is Kacchan- I mean Katsuki Bakugo. You already know him.” he laughs pointing at the blond with red eyes.

Bakugo nods his head with an almost visible smile.

”This is Denki Kaminari” The other blond points finger guns at us.

”This is Eijiro Kirishima” the red haired boy waves at us with a smile.

“And last but not least Sero Hanta” the black haired boy throws a peace sign at us and winks.

They all greet us happily and urge us to sit with them. You began talking for what seemed like hours, they told you they were part of the school volleyball team.

”Oh that’s so cool, how long have y'all been playing for?” you ask.

”We pretty much have been since we were kids. We practically all met through that.” Kirishima responds cheerfully. “Yeah we’re all like a biggg family” Kaminari leans on his shoulder.

Bakugo turns his head at us before speaking “So y/n, art huh? How is it being an artist?”

I laugh “I’m not an artist, artist yet but—“ you were cut off by Izuku.

”Oh stop that you draw, you paint even if it's not professionally yet you’re still an artist.”

”Yeah, it doesn’t matter even if it was just a hobby, you still are an artist.” Sero joins him before continuing. “And how is it going so far?”

”To be honest? Right now, horrible.” you chuckle.

They all seem taken back as their eyes slightly widen.

“It’s mostly because of an assignment our teacher already gave us.”

”Oh that's rough— On the first day?” Kirishima says.

”Yeah, I have like half of the school year to complete it? And it's worth 30% of my final grade too.” You lean your head on your hand. “I need to pick a student I don't know, to study their life? Like get to know them so I can make a painting of it—“

”You can study me?” Sero suddenly says, catching you off guard. “We just met so that’ll be perfect and I get to spend time with a cute girl like you so it’s a win-win situation.” He smiles and leans back on his chair.

You stare at him. That’s...a good idea actually you think to yourself and it’s not a total stranger if it’s one of Izuku’s friends…right?

”Well Sero you’ve got yourself a deal” I smile back at him.

”Call me Hanta.”

a/n i hope you guys like this aaah i'm so nervous and excited to post this...🤧 see u guys in the next part! 💋

[narislvr]

HEY THERE, SUBW4Y GIRL

one-last-stop au ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ | e.williams x fem!reader

cw? reader is painfully bad at asking women out (she will get better dw) new characters introduced, plot is beginning, literally just fluff for now, book dialog and possible(not really) spoilers, not proofread

nari note ᝰ.ᐟ Hi! I just wanted to say thank you so much for all the support on the first part of this series, it really motivates me to keep going and I hope I don't disappoint! Im not staying entirely book accurate but If you've read the book and want certain scenes to show up then please let me know! If you'd like to be part of the taglist then lmk also! That's all for now, and thank you again ♡

m.list [๋࣭🪻] part one [ 🌆 ] palestine-resources & daily click

"The spark in Subway girls eyes ignites so brilliantly that August half expect her to jump out her seat. "Wait, that's my sandwich! I invented it!" ── page 35

Weekday evening shifts were your favorite.

The lights were always dim, painting the old diner atmosphere in hues of orange and amber, and with how slow it was, you weren't forced to run around hoping that table six wouldn't holler you over as you ran to get pancakes for table nine. It was actually quite nice at times.

Being a waitress at a 24/7 diner was not in your plans when you moved away from your last campus all the way in the other corner of the country, but Millers was nice. The building, despite it’s age and outdated fashion, was homey and even with the annoyance of leaving the place smelling like pancake batter and greasey bacon, it was a place youve come to hold dear in your heart.

Having a soft spot for the place and liking your job, however, didn’t mean that you were necessarily good at it a hundred percent of the time. Sleep deprived rushes particularly, made you loath coming in saturday evenings, but today was good.

The evening had been going relatively smooth so far. In the two and a half weeks you’ve worked here, your mistakes have leveled down to now and then little to mix-ups —not counting wedsdays slip up— and your boss, Eliza, had yet to come in and save the day by placing an extra plate of toast on your tray when you accidentally forget them in the kitchen.

With it being close to nine on a Thursday, work was slow, thus, you found yourself leaning on the front counter scribbling random drawings on your notepad with a Miller’s House Of Pancakes pen in hand. With the scribbling, you mindlessly began to reflect on your week so far; your first full day of lectures went well, and balancing work and lectures hasn't been so bad yet ──but then again, the semester just started. Rent was coming up and you had saved enough to pay your share of the apartment and really other than Monday morning's coffee accident, things have been good.

Monday morning…

Subway girl.

Truth be told, you hadn't stopped thinking about the pretty stranger you met on the train a little over three days ago. Sure, she may have only offered her kindness out of pitty at the sight of your teary face, but it was something touching to you nonetheless. It was something that she needed that day, spmething that went right. You didn't see her on your commute to work earlier today, and a part of you couldn't help but feel disappointed. She was just some girl ──green eyes, freckled cheeks, tall and teasing── you had talked to for no more than five minute and yet your mind couldn't stop replaying her smile and her fingers brushing the curve of your shoulders as she wrapped her scarf around you.

You were hopeless

Eliza comes up behind you, shaking her head with a tut of her tongue as she perches her elbow on the counter beside you. "Slacking off on the job, new girl?" Her brow was arched and despite the edge in her tone, you could tell she wasn't exactly scolding you for it either.

"Sorry," you respond as you straighten yourself up. There's a hint of a smirk on the women's face for a second before she shakes her head.

"You eat?" In the six hours you've been in shift, you hadn't eaten anything other than a pack of fruit snacks you'd taken from one of your roommates snacks in the pantry, but did she really have to know that.

‘Uhm, yes?”

"Liar. That's why you slack off. You don't eat. You have no energy," Eliza shakes her head calling out to the man on the grill before you were even able to argue back.

“Jesse!”

"What!" He responds, annoyance in his muffled voice.

“Ew special”

"I already made you one!" Eliza groans, responding with a "for the new girl, Jesse," in an even more annoyed tone before turning to leave at the sound of table 3 calling for more syrup.

What in the world was an ew special?

—

An Ew Special as it turns out, was a sandwich with hashbrown and some cheesy ketchup concoction which honestly, was way better than you expected.

The time on your cracked screen marked 10:07 as you made your way into the subway station for your commute back home. Atleast tonight you'd get a decent night's rest before another full day of lectures and another evening shift. And with that, you sat on one of the benches under fluorescent lighting waiting for your train.

Around your neck was the scarf from before, this time it being worn to keep you warm rather than to cover a stain on your shirt, and definitely not because it was a gift from the handsome girl from before. Nope.

It doesn't take long for your train to arrive, and as you walk in, you can't help but glance around for a familiar auburn haired girl. And again, she's not there, what were you expecting? She was merely a kind stranger, one of the few you've encountered and have never seen again, why would she be any different?

—

The following morning, you follow your usual routine. Wake up, take your vitamin c gummy and see if there's any breakfast worthy left overs before taking a shower, get ready, and leave the 4th floor apartment to make your way to your station. It was a nice routine, one you wouldn't mind repeating the rest of your days in Seattle with the exception of one new thing you've recently had the habit of doing: look around for the girl on the subway, Subway girl.

Subway girl was a smile lost in the tracks. A girl who showed up, saved the day, and blinked out of existence.

It was embarrassing the amount of times you've looked for her only for the same result, so, in order to save yourself another disappointment, you'd instead focuse on yourself and not look around.

And you don't look around, not intentionally atleast, not until a group of late-twenty year olds step off the car two stops into your ride and you catch a glimpse of a familiar auburn girl.

Subway girl. The flannel she had worn the day you'd first met her sat neatly on her lap alowing for a better view of the outlined tattoos on her arms as her white t-shirt sleeves were cuffed below her shoulders.

You couldn't believe your luck.

Her eyes were closed as her head leaned against the window sill, but as she felt your gaze from across of her, she slowly opened her eyes and her mouth formed a soft "oh" in surprise.

"Coffee girl," She smiles, sitting up in her seat as she turned to face you directly. There's a pleasant glint in her eyes as she looked at you, one that you hoped you'd see forever.

“Subway girl.”

Her smile spreads. “Mornin’.”

Your brain tries to reply with a "hi", perhaps ask about her day, but your mouth goes to say "morning", and so what comes out is, "Horny.”

Maybe it's not too late to jump out the emergency exit. You expect her to turn away, wonder why she'd even tried to talk to you, but instead she snorts.

Her eyebrows raise in amusement before she grins teasingly with her voice ever smooth, "I mean, sure, sometimes." She rolls her shoulders back and pulls down her faded green headphones, the ones you saw the day you met her, before setting them on her lap with her flannel and taking out her Walkman to pause her music. It was interesting, you'd never seen anyone actually use a Walkman ──much less walk around with it── but you didn't question it.

"Sorry, I'm─ morning brain. It's too early," you muster out and something shifts in her expression.

"Is it?" Subway girl asks with what seemed like genuine interest.

"Yeah, um... I had a late night.”

Her brows raise again, and you couldn't help but look away as she seemed to try and guess what it was that had kept you up. "Doing what?”

It's not necessarily a lie, but it's not exactly the truth, and really you just needed some cover to not look like an idiot after the word vomit from a moment earlier. "Oh, uh, I had a night shift. I wait tables at Miller's and it's twenty-four hours─”

"Miller's...? As in Miller's house of pancakes on the edge of the city?”

She rests her elbows on her knees and perches her chin on her hands. Her eyes are wide, and curious, her attention solely on you as she awaited your answer.

"You know it?”

She bites her lip, which is fine, and she shakes her head.

"Oh man, I used to wait tables there too," She says. "The owners would argue about how they wanted to name the place so it would always change until they stuck with that.. Jesse still in the kitchen?”

You laugh, her mind blown expression causing a flurry of butterflies in your stomach. Lucky again. "Yeah, he's been there forever. I can't imagine him ever not being there. Everyday as I clock in he's all─”

"Mornin' buttercup," She says in perfect imitation which earns another small laugh from you. "He's such a babe, right?”

"A babe? Oh god," Your reaction gets yet another snort out of her, and as the two of you meet gazes again you both fall into a fit of laughter. It was sweet, and nice, and maybe, just maybe, meant to be.

"Man, there's this thing they serve there now and.. God, it's delicious. I had it the other day, an Ew special'.”

The spark in Subway girls eyes ignites so brilliantly that you half expect her to jump out her seat. "Wait, that's my sandwich! I invented it!”

"No way! Really?"

"Ew is a play on to my initials E.W," She explains. "I had Jesse make it specual for me so many times that eventually everyone else started having them too. Can't believe he still makes them there. He might be in love with me or something," She quips.

"Maybe. He makes them all the time and it's absolutely delicious, it definitely brings you back after a long shift, so, thank you.”

“No problem,” Subway girl says. Shes got this far-off look in her eyes as if she were reminiscing on the sights of customers and the smells of the diner, but she shakes the look off and lets out an exhale. “God, I miss that place. I don’t know if you feel it but, something about it… It's magic.”

You don’t do magic, but who were you to say that when she looks so wistful as if there was a deeper meaning behind her words so you simply hum in agreement.

‘I don't know how they haven’t fired me yet. I’m not the worst waitress, promise, but I accidentally dropped a pie on a five-year-old two days ago. We had to give him a free T-shirt.”

It takes a second, but Subway girl laughs, loud and hearty before shaking her head. “You'll get the hang of it soon,” She says with so much confidence that you believe her instantly. “Small fuckin’ world, huh?”

“Yeah…” You agree. “Small fuckin world.”

A comforting silence lingers in the air as you smile at each other. Subway girl is the first to break it as she glances at the scarf sticking out of your bag, “Nice scarf, by the way.”

You forgot you still had it with you so you quickly go to take it out and hand it to her but subway girl is quick to hold up a hand. “I told you to keep it and besides,” she pulls out a blue plaid one out of her bag, “It's been replaced.”

You look between the scarf in your hand and the green eyed girl in front of you, “I, yeah– thank you again, so much. I wanted– I mean, it was my first day of class and i was already late and didnt want to show up looking–”

“Hey, I mean, Its not that you looked bad,” Subway girl counters. “You just… looked like you needed something to go right that morning. So.” She shrugs, and the intercom suddenly comes on, announcing a stop that was barely audible from how unusually garbled it sounded.

Subway girl points over at the board. “Thats your stop right? The one heading to the college?”

Shit. It was your stop.

You realize as you swing your bag onto your shoulder and glance at the girl across from you that you might never get this lucky again. You seeing her again after 4 days of disappointment could have just been the world messing with you, raising your hopes up only to have her leave for good leaving you with only the memory of the pretty subway masc who saved the day and left you wanting more.

“I’m working breakfast tomorrow. At Millers,” You blurt out as you stand up. “If you want to stop by I could sneak you a sandwich. As payback for the scarf y’know?”

Subway girl looks up at you with an expression so strange and unreadable that you feel your stomach drop, of course, you had to find a way to ruin this. Whatever “this” even was.

Her expression clears up however and she smiles again, “Oh, man. I'd love that.”

“Okay,” you say and start walking to the door, still looking at her. “Okay. Great. Cool. Yeah-” You were going to stop saying words any second now. God, you usually weren't this awkward about asking people out.

Subway girl only watches you go, an amused look in her eyes as she moves a strand of hair from her face.

“What's your name?” she asks.

You stop in your tracks and turn around accidentally hitting another passenger getting off with your bag. “Ah– It’s [ ]. My names [ ].”

Subway girl's smile softens as if she somehow already knew.

“[ ],” she repeats. “I’m Ellie.”

“Ellie.. Hi, Ellie.”

Subway girl, now known as Ellie, smiles. She brings her hand up to her face and gives you a small salute as you say her name, a dorky gesture but one you found endearing nonetheless.

There's a little warning bell to announce the door closing so you quickly step off while still trying to keep your eyes on the auburn haired girl.

“The scarf looks better on you anyways,” Ellie winks, and the Subway doors close in front of you.

TAG LIST ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ @seraphicsentences @amberputh @k1ssesworld @mikellie @williamellieslilho @boobdrug

[samoankpoper21]

Kento Nanami Drabble

A/N When I eventually get around to uploading my masterlist please note that the characters will ALWAYS be chubby! / plus size! reader and is a poc 🫶🏽 Anyway this is something "light" 🤣 Enjoy~!!

Word count: 967

Content warning: slight smut, slight fat shaming if you squint really, really hard, small cursing

Random drabble of how Kento Nanami adores his chubby, fiesty secretary that doesn't take shit from anyone. She will put you in your place if she feels that you have disrespected her.

The moment you were hired you reminded Kento of a fire log: you brought warmth within the office, if that made sense. He tried not to pay too much attention to you, only talking when saying "thanks" and "that'll be all" but found the task of ignoring you impossible considering that your desk sat outside his office making it convenient for you to be at his beck and call. He watched through his tinted glasses admiring your full figure as you clacked away at your computer -you're efficient he'll give you that- getting up to retrieve documents from the printer, stopping every once and in a while to talk to your coworkers with that warm smile on your face that he was slowly falling for.

What really sealed the deal for him was how you always looked out for him, taking care of him in your own way: leaving small squares of dark chocolate on his desk with a note scribbled in your neat handwriting: Not saying you look like shit but it's been proven that if you eat one dark chocolate a day it'll benefit your heart, teeth, and help you sleep better^^ try to get some rest ~^^ you look a bit tired today :-( ; always making sure that he actually stopped working to eat and rest. "Minnie," the nickname you adapted to calling him when it was just you two. "Ya need to eat something."

"Let me just finish this-"

"When was the last time you ate?"

"Uh-"

"Too long. Come on!" He inwardly shivered at the spark that zapped through him as you grabbed him by his forearm attempting to pull him out of his seat. Squeezing you joke, "Sheesh. Didn't realize how built you were." Leading him towards your desk he wondered whether you knew what effect you were having on him.

The day that really killed it for him was when you both showed up to work practically identical: you wore a white, mid length pencil skirt with a thin black belt, satin blue blouse tucked in with the first two buttons undone, and some black heels. As you were gathering the notes to lay on the conference table you giggle. "Minnie, we look like a couple." After the conference he went home early claiming to be sick. Oh the naughty thoughts that were running rampant in Nanami's mind as he fisted his aching cock in the cold shower: he wanted to hike your skirt up, squeeze the supple flesh of your thighs, rip the blouse apart making sure to bring out your breasts from the confines of your bra and pound into you on his desk as you pant his name. "Na-nami" he imagined your half lidded eyes, mouth agape as he watched your breasts bounce with each of his thrusts, his fist stroking faster, teasing and rubbing at his sensitive, tip. "Minnie, I think ima-" Nanami groaned as rope after velvety rope painted his walls. This was driving him mad. He needed to make you his asap.

Sitting at the head of the conference table with a potential client, sneaking glances your way, he watched as you typed away at your laptop, alternating between typing and writing in a notebook. He was grateful that the lights were dimmed as the company's CEO and representative were giving their presentation, lightly palming himself underneath the table.

Oblivious to Kento's internal struggle you stood directly in front of him, so close that if he were to lean forward just slightly he could sniff you. Meanwhile he was admiring how your love handles looked in the midnight blue, sleeveless blouse you were wearing and how the black pencil skirt complimented your ass. As you both were saying goodbye to the CEO he clasped his hand on Kento's shoulder saying, "Mr. Kento, I look forward to working with you. But, take it from an old geezer who's been in the game for a while now, if you want more clients you need to hire someone who's more easier on the eyes. You know what I'm saying?" Your eyebrow shot up and as you were about to defend yourself Nanami replied with, "Unsolicited advice is never welcome. You disrespecting my secretary is a direct hit towards me. I can't do business with someone who only wants to look good on the outside. Please allow the security to escort you out."

"What?! You're joking right?"

"I never joke when it comes to the well being of my employees."

"This is preposterous!"

"Security please escort he and his representative off the premises."

"You will regret not merging with us!"

"Highly unlikely."

As the scene died down you tilted your head glancing at Nanami. "You know I coulda handled it."

"Why? So you could get reported to HR and lose your job?"

"I wasn't gonna hit him." Nanami stopped to stare at you intently. "Ok maybe I wanted to shave his bushy ass eyebrows." Shaking his head he chuckled. "The shorter you are the closer you are to the devil." You lightly smacked his shoulder. "Besides I can't afford losing you."

"Awwwww why? Minnie, you make it seem like you actually like me." Stopping in his tracks he turned to looked at you. "I do. I do like you."

"You better not be playing because I swear to gawd-" Nanami pulled your body flush against his causing you to silently gasp, biting your lower lip. Leaning down to whisper against the shell of your ear, "Need more proof?" You shook your head, you could feel the dark chuckle erupting from within his chest. "Use your words baby girl."

[schoopsahoy]

i'm holding every breath for you

steve harrington x nextdoor neighbour!reader {8.2k} based on the song i’d lie by taylor swift. friends-to-lovers. lots of pining, a bit of angst, steve being oblivious to reader’s feelings. reader uses she/her pronouns. no use of y/n. not proofread

You root through the glove compartment of Steve’s car, bent over at the waist to peer into the small space trying to find the lip balm you swore you left there the last time he gave you a ride. 

“Why d’you have so much crap in here? How am I meant to find anything?” You pull out random scraps of paper, food wrappers and notes scribbled in a hurry that were barely legible.

“You wouldn’t have to look through it if you didn’t forget something every time you’re in here.” 

You shoot him a glare, no malice really behind it because he was right, you did have a bad habit of constantly leaving your stuff in his car. Though to be fair, you were constantly leaving things behind in the places you’d been, it wasn’t exclusive to his car.

“S’not my fault, I just forget.” You’ve got a pile of rubbish on your lap now, the glove box empty enough for you to actually see its contents. When you finally see the plastic tube you’ve been searching for you let out a small ah!, inhaling quickly as you pull it out with a victorious smile on your face. “Got it.” 

“Best put it somewhere safe, god forbid you have to root through my stuff again.” Steve’s eyebrows were raised, a sarcastic twang to his voice, but you know he’s not really mad. He was never mad, not at you anyway. 

“I know, sorry, could have all sorts of secrets in here.” 

You put all the rubbish you’ve accumulated back into the compartment, really you should keep hold of it to throw it all out. But the thought doesn’t cross your mind until you’re back home in your room.

“Think you know all of my secrets anyway, I’ll let it slide.” 

You sit back in your seat, pulling down the sun visor to shield your eyes from the summer evening sun that was hanging low in the sky. You have your own car, and were perfectly capable of driving it, but Steve insisted on driving you around because your car was old and rickety and ‘should not be allowed on the road’. He was at least a little bit right, and you can't say you mind him picking you up from your shifts at the grocery store. His passenger seat had always felt a bit like home, even through high school and the girlfriends that would come and go, your presence up front was a constant. 

You undo a few of the buttons on your work shirt, the sticky heat of the day clinging to the fabric and your skin. The air conditioning near the checkouts in work was temperamental at best, and today it had decided to pretty much pack in altogether. The first thing you’d done when you got into Steve’s car was crank the AC up to try and lower your body temperature from feverish to just plain old hot. 

“You coming to the lake this weekend?” You pick at your chipped nail varnish, Steve finally able to actually start the drive home now you’ve dug through his mess successfully. It was a Hawkin’s summer tradition to spend at least one day down by the lake, drinking and smoking a bit too much and getting a little dizzy from a full day of sun exposure. 

Steve hums, nodding in response as he pulls out of the parking lot. “You’ll never guess who asked me that at work today.” 

“At work? Robin?” You look away from your nails, brows furrowed and nose scrunched with confusion. 

“No, not Robin.” Steve chuckles, your response typical of your mind, always a little ditzy and in your own world. It was endearing in a way, your world view simple and honest and good. “Tammy Thompson.” 

Your mouth opens to a small ‘O’, head nodding slowly. “You gonna go with her?” 

“No, absolutely not. Couldn’t pay me to go with her.” 

“She’s not so bad, in the grand scheme of Hawkin’s.” 

“If my best option is Tammy Thompson, I think I’ll just stay single forever.” 

You press your lips together, nodding again. You were overly familiar with Steve’s dating woes, both throughout school and now into adulthood. Maybe if you were bolder, with less to lose than your best friend, you’d just tell him to date you. Bite the bullet and take the leap and just give it a try. But you weren’t bold, you were safe and comfortable in the familiar and not ready to jeopardise that by confessing some big feelings that Steve was oblivious to.

“You just gonna hide from her the whole time then?”

“Maybe, use you as a human shield.” He grins at you, watching as you scrunch up your nose again. It was one of those mannerisms that you did all the time, whenever something confused you or if he teased you a little. It was a dead giveaway for your emotions, even if you were unaware of it. 

“But you’re bigger than me, I don’t think I’d be very good at it.” 

“Y’not even gonna try? I’d do it for you.” He pouts at you, you’re sure he’s doing his best puppy dog eyes behind his sunglasses too. 

“Sure, I’ll try. But don’t blame me when she spots you, I can’t grow like 3 feet taller in a few days.” 

“Don’t think you’d need to grow 3 feet, honey.” 

“To do a proper job I would.” 

Steve just nods, smiling to himself as he pulls into the street you’ve both grown up on. Carpooling was pretty easy when you only had to make one stop, though he’d take you to the other side of the world if you asked him to. 

“You gonna need a lift to work tomorrow?” Steve parks up in his driveway, turning the ignition off and cutting off the AC you’ve been basking in, a small sigh coming from your lips as the cool air stops fanning on your skin. 

“S’okay, I start at like 6am so I can drive.” You pick your backpack up out of the footwell, corduroy straps held tightly in your hand. 

“You’re not driving that death trap when you’re half asleep, you know I don’t mind dropping you off.” Steve’s car keys dangle from his pointer finger, the collection of keyrings you’d gotten him over the years from every holiday you’d been on jingling against one another. “Just bang on my door if I don’t knock before you need to leave.”

“You’re silly for doing this, y’know that?” 

“Only for you, sweetheart.” 

Steve leans over to ruffle your hair, earning him a huff from you as you try to move your head away. You smooth out the mess as you climb out the passenger side, slinging your bag over one shoulder as you start to make your way over to your own house. 

“You forgetting something?” Steve calls after you, and as you turn you see him holding out the same lip balm you’d left behind before. 

“Oh, thanks Stevie.” You hurry back over to take the tube out of his hand, giving him a sweet smile before heading back home again. 

—

You’re used to early mornings, pretty good at pushing past the grogginess after having to work so many opening shifts and be alert when the sun is still climbing in the sky, but being jostled about the back of Eddie’s van with the rest of your friends when you’re all still half asleep hurt your head a little bit. 

It was the easiest option, meaning you could all make your way to the lake together and only have one designated driver, but you did miss seatbelts. 

The heat was still yet to break, the air thick and clammy despite only wearing a tank top and some jean shorts over your bikini. You’re already slathered in sunscreen, the artificial coconut smell a bit overwhelming in the enclosed space and it doesn’t seem to lessen even once you’re out in the fresh air. 

“I wish we had one of those big umbrellas.” You stand with your hands on your hips, watching the boys lug the bags filled with snacks and the cooler of beer and soda out of the van. “It’s so hot.” 

“That’s what the lakes for, cools you right down.” Eddie smiles, shaking his curls out of his eyes as he stands up straight. 

You shrug, staring out at the glistening water. “I don’t wanna get my hair wet.”

“It’s gonna get wet.” 

“Shame.” You chew the inside of your cheek and hold your arms out to take one of the picnic blankets that’d been brought along. 

It took you about fifteen minutes to all settle on a spot along the shore, Eddie and Robin wanting to be as close to the pier as possible so they can dive-bomb into the water but Nancy saying there’ll be too much foot traffic there and nobody will be able to relax. You stand back, letting your friends argue it out and laying down your blanket once the issue had been resolved. 

The sun feels nice on your skin, the lake having more of a breeze than the rest of town making it bearable to lay out in. It doesn’t take too long for the midday heat to have you peeling off your tank top, shorts unbuttoned and rolled down a little so you can feel the heat on your stomach. 

Eddie hands out one of the joints he pre-rolled for the occasion, something about needing to start early so he can sober up before he drives you all home. The smoke has your head feeling a little fuzzy, mixing with the beer you’ve been sipping slowly and slowing your mind down. 

“You’re going pink.” Steve sits down next to you, cross legged and shoulders almost brushing. 

“I thought it was green?” You tilt your head to one side, putting the back of your hand to your head to feel your temperature. “I feel okay.” 

“No, not that, your shoulders.” 

You lift your sunglasses onto the top of your head, looking down to your shoulders which were turning a little pink. Your freckles coming out where the sun had kissed your skin. “Oh, right, I am.” 

“C’mere.” Steve leans over to reach for the sunscreen, not moving from his seat next to you as he stretches his arm over the blanket. “Your mom will be mad if I let you get burnt.” 

You shake your head, shuffling around so Steve can get to your shoulders easier. “You’re her favourite, she’d just tell me to be more careful.” 

The sunscreen feels cold, even as Steve rubs it in carefully against the hot patches of skin on your shoulders, being careful to get it under the straps of your bikini. You’re used to his gentle touches, him always looking after you ever since you were kids, but now you’re older and you’re more aware of the way his hands move and how he treats you like you’re precious and it makes your heart skip a little. 

He moves a hand away to take the joint off Robin, inhaling as he keeps massaging the sunscreen in with his other hand. He can feel the heat radiating off your skin, not yet in the sunburn territory, just a little warm. Your skin always feels soft, he’s not sure if it’s some moisturiser you use or if it’s just how you are. He leans his arm over your shoulder, holding the joint out to you as you take it between your fingers. 

You inhale, careful not to press your lips against the roach too hard in case your lipgloss transfers too much. Steve finally finishes rubbing the cream into your shoulders, and you shuffle again so that you’re facing him. “Is my face pink too? My nose feels kinda warm.” 

Steve lifts his own sunglasses up so he can look at you clearer, hair pushed back by the frames and his hand shielding his eyes from the sun's glare. “A little, you want sunscreen on there too?”

You nod your head, closing your eyes. Your eyelashes cast little shadows on your cheeks, something Steve hasn’t really noticed before but he likes it. Likes seeing you up close, even after all these years. His movements are careful as he brushes the cream across your nose and over your cheeks, just using one finger to rub it into your skin. 

You enjoy the sweet moments, but sometimes they’re too easy to get lost in. It's easy to pretend you don’t harbour all these feelings for Steve when you’re apart, even when you’re just hanging out at a safe distance. But when he’s close, your mind gets a bit carried away. Dreaming up scenarios where he might press a kiss to your lips whilst your eyes are still closed, hold your hand once he’s done and keep it there for the rest of the day. You’ve got a big imagination, it’s a real bother sometimes. 

Steve finishes his careful application, and sets his hand down in his lap to look over your face once more to check he hasn’t missed anywhere. He takes a moment to just watch how you breath steady, a small smile on your lips that always seems to be there without you even knowing. “Okay, you’re done.” 

You open your eyes, instantly squinting from the bright sunlight. You quickly bring your sunglasses back over your eyes, the red heart shaped frames contrasting against your complexion. “Thanks Steve, you’re the best.” 

“I know, s’why you love me.” 

If only you knew, you think. You have to force your face not to react to his words, simply giving him a smile as you lay back down to sunbathe some more. 

The heat and the smoke and the alcohol makes you clingy. They always do, even on their own, so mixing all three was sure to have you craving closeness. 

The boys had all been in the lake, splashing and tackling each other and making enough noise to draw attention from most of the people on the lake. When Steve walks back to the blanket, you hold out your arms to him as if to summon him. 

“Hey, honey. You good?” He sits in that same spot next to you, you instantly lean your head on his shoulder and hum a response. His body is still wet, but you suddenly don’t mind your hair getting a little damp. Steve knows what you’re like when you’re high, having spent enough nights on his back porch sharing a joint when his parents were out of town. Knows how you like to be close to him, he doesn’t mind it so much either. 

“M’good.” You mumble, pushing your face further into his neck. He smells like the fresh water, that same strong sunscreen but somehow still like Steve. You wish you could bottle it up, it's probably your favourite smell in the world. 

Steve puts his arm around your waist, head resting on top of yours. If it was anyone else the close contact in the heat would probably be too much, but it’s okay if it’s you. You’re like an extension of him at this point. “You had enough water today? Don’t want you going loopy.”

“Yeah, drank like two bottles.” You nudge your head in the direction of the empty water bottles discarded next to you, keeping them in a pile to collect at the end of the day. 

“Oh, must just be loopy anyway then.” He teases, giving your side a gentle squeeze. It feels like his hand has an electric current running through it and each movement sends shockwaves through you. 

“Thought you already knew that.” 

“I do, it’s cute.” 

“So you’ll visit me in the loony bin then?” You shift your head slightly so you can look up at him through your sunglasses, everything tinged some muddy colour from the lenses. 

“Every day, if they don’t lock me up with you.” 

“God, can you two get a room? Even Robin and Vickie aren’t this bad and they’re actually together.” Eddie shouts over from the other end of the mismatched collection of blankets, your cheeks heat up more than they already are with his words. The sun at least gives you an excuse for the flush of colour. 

“Can it, Munson.” Steve flips him off with the hand that isn’t still on your waist, the other boy returning the signal with a smug grin on his lips. 

You kind of want the ground to swallow you, suddenly aware that everyone probably knows you’re in love with your best friend. You don’t want the pity smiles or the sorry stares, but then if everyone else knows, why doesn’t Steve? Surely someone must have let something slip by now. Hopefully they haven’t. It’s even worse to think he knows and is ignoring it to save you from the rejection. You squeeze your eyes hard to try and push the thoughts away. 

You lean further into Steve’s side, the cool water on his skin feels soothing against your own. His hand finally moves from your waist up to stroke your hair. His thumb brushing slowly over and over. 

“You seen Tammy Thompson yet?” You want to put the question back inside your head as soon as you’ve said it. 

“Yeah, think you did a pretty good job at being my shield though. Took one look at us and turned on her heel.” 

You smile to yourself, a small laugh coming out as you put your arms around Steve. “That’s good. Maybe I’ll get a job as a bodyguard.” 

Steve chuckles and you can feel the movement against your body, the vibrations making your hairs stand on end. “Don’t think they usually let bodyguards do this sorta thing.” 

“Oh.” You hold your bottom lip under your teeth and exhale. “Maybe not then.”��

—

You’re wallowing. It’s maybe overdramatic, and you’re glad nobody else is there to see it, but you are. You have the house to yourself again, and the whole day off work, but you’ve spent most of it laid out on your lawn with a book trying to distract yourself from the fact that Steve is on a date. 

He told you yesterday, as he was dropping you off from work again, that some pretty girl had been in Family Video and he’d asked her out and she’d said yes. You’d smiled, told him you were happy for him, because he was your best friend and you wanted him to be happy more than anything else in the world. But it hasn't stopped you from moping about the entire day.

The grass tickles the skin on your back that’s exposed from where your shirt is riding up, the feeling irritating you more than it usually would. You’d managed to read about twenty pages in the past hour, having to re-read each paragraph at least three times because your mind keeps wandering. 

Your book is left at your side, defeated by the words that jumbled in your brain, your arm over your eyes to block out the last of the day's light. 

“Hey, you.” Steve chimes from over the shared fence, you hadn’t heard his car pulling up and his voice spooks you a bit as you quickly sit up. 

“Steve, you’re here.” You furrow your brow, confused by his presence. You were no expert on dating, but you had assumed he’d be out much later than this. 

“Can I come over?”

“Stupid question.” 

He smiles at your response, giving you a nod as he walks down the fence and back around into your back garden. “You been out here all day?” 

“Almost. I had to go inside for a bit because it was too hot.” Your legs stretch out in front of you as you lean back on your palms, head tilted up to look at Steve who’s still standing over you. His body blocks the sun, his shadow gives you some relief from it.

“It was pretty hot today.” Steve agrees, lingering in his spot for a minute before he finally takes a seat next to you mirroring your posture. 

“How was your date?” You try to sound interested, like you’re hoping he had the best time and was going to see her again and maybe she was the one. The thought really made you want to die a bit. 

“Bit of a bust.” Steve shrugs, he doesn’t sound too phased by it. You curse yourself for wanting to smile. 

“That’s a shame.” You say, shifting your weight off your palms so you can sit up straight and pick at the grass under your hands. “Not gonna see her again?”

“Probably not, just didn’t have much to say to each other.” 

“But you can talk anyone’s ear off.” You tease, looking at him with your eyes squinted a little, corners of your mouth turned up. Your features look soft in the evening sun, shadows rounding out your cheeks and the little bump on your nose bridge. 

“I can talk your ear off.” Steve corrects you, and gives your shoulder a light shove. The light reflecting off his hair has it turning the colour of honey, the same with his eyes. You wish he wasn’t so pretty, his face was far too easy to look at. 

“Sorry it didn’t go well.” You twist your mouth to the side, eyes all apologetic because you do want him to be happy even if it does hurt your heart. 

“Don’t be. It was nice enough, just not second-date nice.” 

“Y’want to watch a movie? We can watch A Nightmare on Elm Street, might make you feel better.” 

“Why would it make me feel better?” 

“Because you’re not getting chopped up in your sleep.” You say it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Touche. Okay, let’s do it.” Steve pushes himself up off the lawn, holding his hand out to you to help you up. You put your hand in his, his grip solid but still gentle as he pulls you up from the grass. 

You brush your legs off, little indents from the grass left in the bare skin of your calves. “I’ve got the good popcorn too.” 

You walk into your house through the patio doors, the laminate floor cold underfoot as you pad your way into the kitchen. You root through the cupboards, pulling out the various tins and boxes of health food your mom had stocked up on until you finally find the popcorn. 

“See, cinema quality.” You hold the packet out to Steve, pointing at the words printed on it. 

“You’re too good to me.” 

“Tell me about it.” You roll your eyes, all affection and sweetness really. You turn the stove on, placing the biggest pan you can find on the hob and letting it heat a little before tipping the kernels into it and putting the lid on top. 

You hop onto the counter beside the cooker, legs dangling and ankles hitting the cupboard below you as you swing them a little. “Now we wait.” 

Steve’s leaning against the island in the middle of your kitchen, hands in the front pockets of his jeans as he looks at you. You’re suddenly very aware of the fact you’ve been lazing around in the sticky heat all day, hair probably a mess and skin a little dewy and definitely not looking your best. 

“Can I ask you something?” He asks, head tilted a little as his eyes stay locked on you. 

You shrug your shoulders, trying your best to keep your breathing steady and not give away the fact that such a simple question has your throat drying up and your stomach twisting into a knot. “Sure, ask away.” 

“Do people ever just, like, assume we’re dating?” He asks the question so casually, like he was just asking how your day had been. “Like, when you’re trying to date, do they ever say that?” 

You scrunch your nose up, tongue pressing against the inside of your cheek as you try to come up with an answer, try to pull words out of your brain that currently feels like it’s been scrambled. “I d’know, I don’t date much, so I guess not.”

Steve pauses, just nodding at your response. He knew you didn’t really date, not after high school anyway. He’d never given it much thought, you’d always come away from dates complaining they were boring or got too handsy or didn’t laugh at your jokes and he’d always thought that those guys must be crazy. Because you were great, the best person he knew if he was being honest. 

“Why?” You force the question out, hoping your voice doesn’t audibly crack from how much effort it's taken to say just one word.

“I was just wondering. Heard it a couple times now, and I was just curious if you had too.” 

Heard it a couple times now. The words echo in your brain, bouncing around over and over to the point it was making you a bit dizzy. Your hands grip the counter beneath you to try and ground yourself. 

The sound of the kernels popping against the lid of the pan breaks the silence before you have to, a silent prayer of thanks to whatever God is watching over you in the moment. You hop down off the counter to get a proper look at the pan, watching as the kernels expand and pop until the little bangs slow and you can turn the stove off. 

You stand on your tiptoes to reach the cupboard above your head, fishing out the largest bowl in there and carefully tipping the popcorn into it. You finally turn back to Steve, bowl held close to your chest with both hands so you won’t drop it. “Okay, let’s go watch some people get slashed up.” 

Steve laughs, the little creases at the corners of his eyes deepening with his smile. “You’re morbid.” 

“No, I’m creative.” You say the words bluntly, but your eyes are still full of warmth for the boy in front of you. Even the coldest words wouldn’t be able to take away from the way you always look at him, a bit like a lovesick puppy. 

You put the bowl of popcorn on the table in the middle of your living room before trying to find the tape you need from the stack around the television set. You have to check a few cases, because most of them weren’t in the right one and there was no point trying to logically work out which one it’d be in. 

“Didn’t you loan this from Family Video like, two months ago?” Steve asks, already in his usual spot on your couch as he watches you open your fifth case to no avail. 

“Probably, yeah.” You don’t sound too bothered by it, the late fee something you’ve never had to pay thanks to Steve always wiping it for you. Finally, on your eighth try, you pull the correct tape out and hold it up to Steve with a grin. “Got it.” 

You eject the tape that’s currently in the VCR player, putting it into the case that you’d found A Nightmare on Elm Street in without checking if it was the right one, and push the right tape into the player before you stand up. 

“That seems like a flawed sorting system.” Steve nods towards the scattered cases on the carpet as you sit down next to him. 

You shrug. “It works for me. We don’t all work in a video store, Steve.”

“You’re right, my bad.” He holds his hands up in defeat. 

You lean forward to grab the popcorn bowl and pass it to Steve. “Try it, I need an unbiased opinion on it.” 

“Why would you be biased?” His question is muffled by him throwing some popcorn into his mouth. 

“I bought it, I want it to be good.” 

“Makes sense.” Steve nods and takes another handful of popcorn. “It’s good, but not cinema good.” 

You sigh, taking a handful for yourself now that Steve had given his review. “They always lie on the packets.” 

You and Steve had watched this film about ten times, including when it was in the theatre and you made him go twice. Knowing the plot back to front was really not helping to distract you from how close Steve is sitting to you, you didn’t have to pay attention because you know what’s about to happen so instead your brain is entirely focused on the fact you can feel Steve’s body heat, his leg pressing against your own and his arm resting on the back of the couch behind you. 

You’re really trying to keep your mind on the movie, eyes stuck to the screen barely blinking, but your brain just won’t cooperate. It’s not like Steve doesn’t always sit this close to you, because he does. But you’re still reeling from what he said in the kitchen and your thoughts show no sign of slowing. 

Steve sits up to put the half eaten bowl of popcorn back on the table, his movements making your breath hitch in your chest and your muscles tense. You think you must look crazy. 

“You feelin’ okay?” He puts a hand on your shoulder, which only makes you tense up more.

“Mhm.” You hum, turning just a little to glance at him and give him your most convincing smile. “Probably just got sun sickness y’know? Brains been cooked all day.” 

“You mean heat stroke?” He rubs his thumb over the curve of your shoulder, the feeling comforting in a sickly sort of way. 

“Nah, different things.” 

“You wanna go to bed? We don’t have to watch the movie.”

You shake your head, eyes focusing back on the gory scene on the tv in front of you. “I’m okay, I think it’s helping.” 

“Watching people get chopped up?”

“Exactly.”

—-

The Hideout is dark and loud and warm, and you’re a bit out of place. You promised Eddie months ago you would come and watch his band play, always meaning to do so but things never lining up the right way, but tonight you were making good on that promise. 

You try to dress the part, at least to the extent your wardrobe allows, a strappy black top and a short skirt - that definitely used to fit fine but was now bordering on indecent - all covered up by a big denim jacket that you thrifted a couple years back. A bit of eyeliner smudged across your lids, messy and already creasing with the heat of the venue. 

Steve is at your side, obviously. Because he heard you were planning to go to The Hideout and there was no way he was letting you go alone, not when you look like that and the place would no doubt be crawling with creepy guys. Not that he told you all this, he just said he wanted to come along. He was always protective over you, but this felt different to him for some reason. Like, he didn’t want creepy guys to bother you, but maybe he didn’t want any guy to bother you? Those were thoughts he’d have to unpack later. 

You pull at the hem of your skirt as you linger near the outskirts of the room, shuffling from one foot to another in your doc martens that aren’t quite broken in yet. You look up at Steve through your mascara coated lashes, eyes wide a bit like a deer caught in headlights, mouth open a little with your tongue pressing against the back of your teeth. 

“You all good?” Steve has to shout a little to be heard over the music thumping through the venue, the old sound system struggling to keep up with the heavy bass. 

You nod, eyes darting between Steve and the bustling space around you. Your hands stay at the hem of your skirt, finding a loose stitch to pick and pull at as a distraction. “I think I need a drink.” 

“Yeah? What d’you want? I’ll get it for you.” Steve could see the way you were staring at the bar, it’s at least two deep the whole way along and you’re definitely smaller than at least 90% of the people waiting. It just made more sense for him to be the one to try and fight his way through. 

“Just a lemonade. Unless they don’t card, then I’ll have a beer. But lemonade's totally fine.” The words fall out of your mouth quickly, the heat of the room suddenly sticking to your chest and making you feel flushed. 

“Okay, just wait here and I’ll be back.” Steve steps away, but turns back to put his hands on your arms. He locks his eyes with yours, your pupils still blown from the dim lighting. “Right here.” 

“Right here.” You look down at your shoes and then back up to Steve, giving him a reassuring smile that you weren’t going to move. 

You watch Steve make his way to the bar, feeling a bit exposed now you’re standing alone. He turns back to you from his spot in the queue - if you could even call it that - only briefly, just to check you’re okay and haven’t moved. 

It doesn’t take Steve that long to get served, probably about ten minutes from him leaving you to actually having the drinks in his hands. He tried to keep an eye on you, but the closer he got to the bar the more people crowded behind him and blocked his view. So he curses himself a little when he finally breaks through the mass of bodies to see you talking to some guy. Some guy who is definitely at least ten years older than you, and is definitely drunk. 

“Um yeah, my friend is in one of the bands playing tonight.” You try to be polite, making small talk has never been your strong suit but you don’t want to be rude. Especially not when you’re on your own. 

“Oh right, cool.” The guy - you think his name is Mark? He did tell you but you didn’t really listen - nods enthusiastically. “Just a friend, though? No boyfriend?” 

“I, erm -“ You laugh awkwardly, not really sure what to say. You want to lie, it’d be the easiest way to end this conversation. But you’re even worse at thinking fast than you are at small talk. 

You don’t have to lie though, or say anything at all, because Steve is back at your side and standing so close your body’s are practically pressed together. He holds out a cup for you to take without a word, and as soon as you take hold of it his arm snakes around your waist to hold you to him. 

“Hey, honey. Who’s this?” Steve looks between you and the other man who’s now looking much less interested in talking and much more interested in leaving.

“Oh, I was just telling him that we know Eddie.” You dodge the question of who he is, because you can’t give a real answer. 

“Right, and that’s it?” Steve sips his drink, not taking his eyes off the guy in front of you.

“Relax dude, I get it. I don’t want your girl.” Mark, or maybe it was Matt, holds his hands up before he skulks off back into the crowd, most likely to find his friends or another girl to try and hit on. 

Hearing the phrase your girl makes your head spin, especially with Steve’s arm so tight around your waist and his body pressing into yours. You take a deep breath and a shaky sip of your drink as you try to calm yourself, because everything is fine. Steve is here and people think you’re together and it’s so fine. 

“You alright?” Steve finally breaks the silence, squeezing you somehow closer to him as he speaks. 

“Yeah, thanks Stevie.” You grin up at him, the low lighting doing you a favour by covering up the pink that was spreading over your cheeks. 

“You didn’t wanna speak to that guy, right? Because you can totally speak to any guy you want, he just looked a bit…” He trails off, scrunching his face a little and shrugging in place of words.

You laugh, shaking your head. “I don’t want to, I’m here with you.” The words come out before you really think about them, your eyes widening a little as soon as you realise what you’ve said. 

Steve doesn’t seem to react, if he heard what you said - or more so what you meant - he doesn’t show it. “Okay, good. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.” 

You just smile at him, enough confirmation that you are happy. Perfectly content just in his presence. Even if the room is too close and the beer is kinda warm and you feel like you’re dressed up in a costume instead of your clothes. 

When you see Eddie walk out onto the stage you step away from Steve, tugging on his hand to pull him closer so you can actually watch your friend and hopefully get his attention to prove that you held up your promise and came out to a show. 

Even when you settle in a spot close to the stage, you don’t drop Steve’s hand, and he doesn’t drop yours. Your plastic cup in one hand and Steve in the other, it all feels a bit surreal. Maybe it’s the heat making your brain a little mushy. 

You manage to catch Eddie's eye at some point, grinning and holding your drink up at him. He looks between you and Steve, down at your conjoined hands, and nods dramatically with a wide smile. You’re going to have to tell him it’s not what it looks like later, not sure how to articulate that with just one hand and facial expressions. 

It’s nice seeing your friend so in his element, the energy of the room lifted by the band's energy on stage. You feel bad for waiting so long to come and watch, even if it was always out of your control. 

Their set isn’t too long, only five songs, but they really make the most of their slot. The whole place seemed to get involved, everyone cheering when they finally finished up and headed off the small stage. 

“You wanna get some air?” Steve asks, some loose hairs falling into his face as he looks down to you. 

“Yeah, s’pretty hot in here.” 

Steve leads you through the crowd, still holding onto your hand, and out through the venue doors into the parking lot. There’s a few people outside smoking, little groups gathered together all talking and drinking and looking like they belonged. It made you laugh a little to think about what you and Steve must look like here. 

“That was fun, Eddie is so good.” You look down at the almost empty cup in your hand, swirling the remaining liquid around in it til it nearly splashes over the sides. 

“Yeah, it was. Don’t think I’ll become a regular here though.” Steve laughs, giving your hand a squeeze as if to acknowledge that he is still holding it. You try not to read into it.

“Yeah, the place doesn’t really scream ‘Steve Harrington’.” You shrug, finally drinking the last of your beer. If it wasn’t warm when you first got it, it definitely was now. 

You see Eddie walk outside and finally release Steve’s hand to skip over and hug him, already wishing you hadn’t let go because what if he doesn’t hold it again. You push the thought out of your head and try to focus on Eddie. “That was so good Ed’s, you looked so cool.”

“Thanks short stack.” Eddie leans back to pat you on your head. “‘Bout time you finally came.”

“I know, I don’t break promises.” You speak matter-of-factly, face all serious as you cross your arms over your chest.

Steve was beside you again, though not so close this time. “Good job, Munson. Guess you’re not all talk.” He teases, Eddie giving his shoulder a playful

shove in response. 

“It’s good to see you two together. About time.” Eddie points between you and Steve, and your chest tightens as you process what he’s said. 

“Oh, no, we’re not-“ You laugh, but it comes out awkward and forced and you look between Steve and Eddie and the floor and try to bargain with the powers that be to strike you down. 

“Oh, shit, my bad.” Eddie looks around the parking lot, pressing his lips together as he sighs. “Better hurry it up Harrington, or someone else’ll snap her up.” He pats Steve on the back, and you look at him like he’s gone absolutely insane. 

Steve nods, a weak laugh at Eddie's comment giving nothing away about how he feels about it. 

You take a deep breath through your nose, hoping the cool night air might stop you from passing out on the spot. 

“I better get back inside, have a good night kids. Stay safe.” Eddie waves you off as he walks back inside, disappearing into the dark room and leaving you outside with all the tension and awkwardness in the air that he’d put there. You’d be mad at him if he wasn’t such a nice guy. 

You and Steve are both quiet for a minute, and you think this is finally it. You’d managed to keep your friendship untouched by your feelings for so long but it’d finally come crashing down. 

“Reckon we head home?” Steve cocks his head as he looks down at you, you must look a sorry state given the pity filled smile he’s giving you. 

“Yeah, probably for the best.” Your voice is quiet, and you drag your feet along as you walk to Steve’s car. You toss your cups away in a bin along the way, all over dramatic and woeful as you sigh with the movement. 

The drive home was quiet. Steve would try and spark up a conversation but your brain was whirring and everything felt like too much and you could barely force a coherent sentence out. 

When you finally arrive at Steve’s house, and your house respectively, you feel frozen in your seat. Because what if you get out and go home and that’s that? Steve stops giving you rides to work and stops watching movies with you and stops letting you stay in his bed when you drink a little too much and don’t want to be alone. 

Steve says your name, and you force yourself to stop spiralling in your own thoughts to look over at him. “I had a really nice time tonight.” 

“Really? You didn’t think the place was a bit gross?” You pulled the sleeves of your jacket down over your hands, holding them in your lap.

Steve laughs, shaking his head at you. “The Hideouts always been gross. I had a really nice time with you.” Even under the dim street lights Steve can see your puzzled expression, brows pinched together and a little pout on your lips. 

“Well, yeah, we always have a nice time Stevie. S’why we’re friends.” 

Steve sighed, because you were right. But it’s not what he was trying to say. He was never all that good with his words, and he also didn’t really know exactly what he wanted to say. “Y’know what Eddie said?”

“We don’t have to talk about it, it’s just Eddie, he just says stuff.” You can’t make eye contact as you speak, in half a mind to just bolt from the car, hop your fence and lock yourself in your house for the rest of your days.

“Well, yeah, he does. But I guess lately I’ve been thinking about it, about us.” 

You swear your heart was moments away from actually bursting from your chest it was beating so hard, your hands feeling clammy as they gripped tightly onto the denim of your jacket sleeves. “What about us?” 

“Just that we’re so close, you know? You’re my best friend, but then sometimes, lately, I look at you and it feels different.” Steve tries to gauge your reaction to his words, but your eyes are staring down at your hands in your lap and your hair is falling so that it covers your face. Maybe he’s got this majorly wrong, completely misread things between the two of you. 

“Different how?” All you can manage is stupid questions pushing him for more, for him to just be clear and concise and put you out of your misery. 

“Different like sometimes I think I want to kiss you.”

You stop fiddling with your jacket then. The words hitting you in the chest like a semi-truck. You’re not sure you actually heard him right, because you’ve been so certain all this time that your feelings were one sided. A hopeless crush that would just burn in your chest forever, longing for more but never getting it. 

“You think you want to? Or you want to?” You finally look up at Steve, turning slightly in the passenger seat so you’re facing him. Seeing the way he’s looking at you, so full of affection and like you put the stars in the sky, makes your stomach flutter like there’s a hoard of butterflies in there waiting to be set free. 

“I want to.” Steve breathes the words out, soft spoken like if he says them too loud it’ll scare you away. “If you want me to.” 

Your mouth hangs open a little as you try to speak, words failing you completely. So you just nod, blinking quick a few times to make sure you’re actually awake and this isn’t just a cruel dream. “Yeah, I want you to.” You eventually manage, your voice cracking a little. 

Steve moves carefully, his hand cupping your cheek so softly it’s almost as if he’s not touching you at all. You breathe in deep through your nose, closing your eyes in anticipation. You’re still not entirely convinced it’s happening until you feel his lips press against yours. 

It’s slow and shy at first, a little unsure of what’s allowed when you’re kissing your best friend, when you finally cross that boundary. You tilt your head into his hand some more, as if to say it’s okay, permission to kiss you the way you’ve been dreaming about. 

Your hand moves to Steve’s jaw, thumb running along his cheek against the stubble that was there after a couple of days of not shaving. You part your lips a little, and Steve takes your movements as a green light. He kisses you a little harder now, still gentle but with more behind it. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip making your breath hitch in your throat. 

It’s a simple kiss, nothing crazy or wild but it’s just what you want. Because it was Steve, and he wants you. 

When he finally pulls his mouth away from yours, he rests his forehead against your own. “Was that okay?” 

You can’t help but giggle, because it’s such a ridiculous question to you. Of course it was okay, God, it was so much more than okay. “Yeah, Stevie, it’s okay.” 

“So I can do it again?” 

You’re both whispering, faces still so close that you don’t need to speak any louder. “Yeah, any time.” 

Steve presses another gentle kiss to your lips, just a quick one this time but still as full of affection as first. You have to blink hard when he properly pulls away from you to try and stop your head from spinning. 

“I wanna do this properly, y’know. Not just kiss you in my car. I wanna take you on a real date, wine and dine you.” Steve nudges your chin with his finger, head cocked to the side as he looks at you.

“I don’t really like wine.” You shrug. “I’ll give it a try though.” 

“You’re a real trooper.” 

“Anything for you.” You smile sweetly, and you mean it. You think you’d do absolutely anything for Steve Harrington. But it’s fine, because he’d do absolutely anything for you, too.

thank u so much for reading + thank u to the anon for the song rec / request <3

[daydaydayrk420]

Be my Meuse pt2

Chris Evans x male reader

⚠️handjob, nude drawing, make out ⚠️

🚨 Minors and girls do not interact 🚨

______________________________________________________________

Pt1

...

..

.

Once they arrive they hurry inside. Chris sighs in relief and takes off his shoes. He looks around. "Cozy."

"Thanks." Y/n smiles. He makes his way to the kitchen. "Thirsty?"

It's been hours. They've been playing board games and getting to know each other. They also moved on from water and juice to whiskey and beer. They ran out of games. But they're clever. They figured out another way to distract themselves.

They decided to draw. Not just any drawings. Guess what I'm drawing and if you don't guess I fail. They don't know what it's actually called. But! They spiced it up.

If they fail they strip. At first it was shots but they drank even if they won so what's the point in that. But of course they had to complicate their techniques because they're both artists so the game wouldn't be fun.

Chris is only in his pants with one sock. While y/n is in his shirt and boxers.

Y/n is blindfolded as he draws on the small portable marker board. He's trying to think of what to draw. What he doesn't know though is how Chris is staring at his exposed legs.

The younger man finally thought of something and started drawing. "Okay...uh ..." He mumbles as he tries to find the center of the board. Chris? He's not paying attention. Those legs look far more interesting.

"Chris?" Y/n pipes up and looks towards the general direction of the couch. The older man snapped out of his trance and looked at the board. "Oh uh... Flamingo."

"No." Y/n chuckles and tries to add extra lines. Which obviously doesn't look like anything. Chris laughs and tilts his head in ways to try and see the vision.

"uh... Bird?" He tries again. Y/n shakes his head. "Fish?" "Yes!" The younger man beams and removes his blindfold. The drawing looks like a five year old scribble of what they think a fish looks like.

"how is that a fish?" Chris laughs and stands up to swap places. Y/n also laughs and hands him the board and blindfold.

Chris puts his blindfold on and thinks of something to draw. This time y/n is the one staring. He looks at the tattoos that are visible from his angle. The muscles flex whenever Chris moves. How his muscles aren't so outlined because he's relaxed and not full-time flexing.

His eyes trail down. He accidentally giggles. Chris smiles and looks towards the sound with a smile. "What?" He asks curiously. Y/n laughs and shakes his head. "No it's nothing... It's just that one sock is funny." They both laugh.

Chris finally thinks of something and starts drawing.

They're both in their boxers. At this point, they're just trying to get the other one naked as soon as possible, so they guess wrong on purpose until their timer runs out

And would you look at that. Chris is the first to drop his boxers. Y/n blushes and looks over Chris's bare body.

They switch places and y/n blindfolds himself and starts drawing. They both know they're both guessing wrong on purpose. But they don't want to acknowledge it.

So Chris ignores the drawing as his eyes memorise the younger man's body. He says random words as guesses.

Of course the timer runs out and it's y/n's turn to strip. He removes his blindfold and avoids Chris's eyes. He slowly drops his boxers to the floor.

Chris stands up and walks towards the younger man. He reaches out and lets his fingertips trace y/n's arms.

Y/n's breath hitches and his eyes stay glued to Chris's. They hold eye contact for what feels like eternity until Chris finally speaks up.

"Be my Meuse." He whispers. Y/n's mind spins but he nods nonetheless.

Chris grabs his sketchbook and pens while y/n laid on the couch.

Chris tells him how to pose. He puts a pillow on the coffee table and sits down.

He lets his eyes travel before he focuses on the drawing. The room is filled with the sound of pencil scratching on paper. None of them say a word.

Now, do you remember when i said there's no porn here? There is now.

Chris gets about halfway through the drawing before he drops the book on the coffee table and rushes to the couch. He kisses y/n and climbs on top of him. The younger man reacts instantly, he returns the kiss and wraps his arms around the older man's neck.

They're both drunk. And tired. They know they won't last for long so they just agree on handjobs.

Chris is the first to act. He keeps his left arm by y/n's head supporting his weight while his right arm drags down the other man's chest and stomach until his fingers wrap around y/n's weeping cock.

The younger man moans into the older man's mouth and thrusts into his hand.

Y/n frees one of his hands from Chris's hair and runs it down the mascular chest and stomach. But he doesn't wrap his fingers around Chris instantly. He just dodged the throbbing member and traced the v-shape of his abdomen and hips.

The older man groans at the teasing but doesn't say anything about it.

Y/n has to. He can't just not do it. His wandering hand moves to the back and cups America's ass. Chris pulls back from the kiss and laughs. The younger man only smiles and admires the way that the face above his scrunches by the eyes.

"No hesitation huh?" Chris teased. Y/n chuckles and shrugs. "Did you expect me to ignore this beautiful cake?" He jokes and squeezes the cheek he's holding.

Chris groans and buries his face in the younger man's neck. He returns to moving his hand around y/n's dick.

Y/n gives in and let's go of the ass to wrap his fingers around Chris's dick instead. The older man moans and his hips twitch.

As they both stroke one another Chris stars sucking and biting on y/n's neck.

The alcohol in their veins makes it harder to hold back. They can both feel how dangerously close they are.

"Please tell me you're close too and I'm not just pathetic." Y/n groans and thrusts into Chris's hand. Said man chuckles and also thrusts into the other's hand. "No I'm close too don't worry."

They have stopped moving their hands and just used them as fleshlight while they simultaneously thrust into them.

Chris is the first one to buckle. His dick twitches multiple times in a row as his white streaks cover y/n's belly. He tries his best to keep his weight up so y/n can still move and chase his climax. But he starts to tremble with how weak his arm is getting especially after the shock of electricity from cumming so much.

Y/n isn't really that far behind. He leans his head up to capture Chris's lips in a heated kiss while his own dick twitches and his cum mixes with the pool of Chris's cum on his belly.

Once they both stop Chris collapsed on y/n and buried his face in the other man's neck.

Y/n caresses the muscle in Chris's shoulders lazily. "That... Was probably the fastest handjob I've had." He said with a laugh. Chris laughs too and nods his head in agreement.

Chris yawns. "Wanna watch TV?" He mumbles. Y/n shrugs and turns the TV on.

What they put on doesn't even matter because they both fall asleep within ten minutes.

Chris feels like he'll stay around with this one and see where it'll go.

[softhairedhotch]

comfortember day six: notes aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader you leave secret notes for aaron to remind him to take care of himself. when you stop after a bad case, he starts leaving you notes too. word count: 2.2k warnings/content: mentions of food, eating, weddings, life stuff. flirting, taking care of each other, cutesy lovey fluff.

comfortember masterlist here!

also on ao3!

green and yellow sticky notes

Before becoming a new recruit at the BAU, you were very aware of all the rumours surrounding your new co-workers. About how they handle cases with high-end professionalism and no emotion, how they’re not afraid to break the law a little to solve a case, how they don’t mind getting their hands dirty. But when you move to the division you find that that’s not (entirely) true. The team are lovely and, when not on a case, deal with everything the same as everyone else: cracking jokes, lifting each other up and making everyone around them laugh, and getting food with each other to pass the time.

All except for Aaron.

He joins in when he can, smiling occasionally and making the odd joke or two, but from what you can tell, he keeps mostly to himself to remain professional as the team’s boss. However, after a few months of working alongside him, you realise that he often overworks himself, picking up odd hours in the office and working overtime, and forgets to take care of himself in the process. He survives off coffee and spite alone, something that both intrigues and concerns you. 

It pains you that he doesn’t care for himself as much as he should and, as time goes on and you find yourself helplessly falling in love with the man, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

You smile as an idea pops into your head one day when you're struck in the office and you reach out to grab your stack of green sticky notes and a pen. Scribbling down a quick message ('don't forget to eat!' with a smiley face in the corner), you remove it from the pile and fold it neatly, shoving it into your pocket and waiting for the perfect moment to drop it where it needs to go. 

It’s almost an hour later when Aaron leaves his office for a bathroom break and you smirk to yourself as you grab a random file from your desk and make your way up the stairs. Glancing around to make sure no one’s paying attention, you slip inside the empty office and pull the note from your pocket, placing it on his desk and leaving as quickly as you entered. 

Making your way down the stairs, you see Aaron already making his way back to his office with his head buried in his phone. You suddenly grow anxious at the thought of him finding the note–would he think it's weird? What if he knew it was you immediately, even though you modified your handwriting to make it harder to distinguish? What if he called you into the office to tell you he's reporting you to HR? 

Forcing the thoughts out of your mind, you sit back at your desk and brace yourself for Aaron's reaction, whatever it may be. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Aaron unfold the note and read it a few times, flipping it over to see if there's anything on the back. He looks confused, rightfully so, before standing up and looking out at the bullpen like a hunter stalking his prey. 

Derek, who sits across from you, looks up at him lazily with interest before raising an eyebrow in your direction in a silent question. You shrug and give him a half-convincing smile as if to say you don't know what's going on either, looking back at your computer and pretending to focus so he doesn't feel the need to pry. 

To your surprise, Aaron says nothing. Instead, he makes his way to the kitchenette and pulls out a container from the fridge, glancing at it to determine whether or not he should heat it up. You smirk to yourself as you realise your plan worked, watching as he finally throws it into the microwave and leans against the counter with his arms crossed and eyes closed in thought.

After that day, you find yourself leaving more notes. Messages along the lines of 'stay hydrated <3' and 'get some sleep tonight man!' and 'there's some pasta in the fridge, enjoy :)'. Secretly, of course, and at times he wouldn't be able to suspect it's you. Although after a few weeks pass, you figure he already knows who's leaving the notes but hasn't brought it up because he appreciates the reminders to drink water and get some fresh air. 

You find yourself unable to gather enough energy to leave him notes, however, after a particularly gruesome case that hit far too close to home and messed you up more than you'd like to admit. Going to work feels like a chore and you don't have it in yourself to brighten his day, no matter how much you wish you could. 

A week passes and you still can't shake the case, walking into work feeling like the weight of the world rests on your shoulders. You're early, unable to get any sleep the night before, and you notice the bullpen is mostly deserted as you make your way to your desk. You sit down with a sigh, holding back tears and bouncing your leg as you pull items out of your bag. The sight of something on your keyboard catches your attention and you freeze at the sight of a yellow sticky note sitting on top of the keys, neatly folded. 

Interested, you carefully unfold the note and almost sob at the message scrawled out in capital letters: 'TAKE THINGS EASY TODAY.' It’s clear that whoever wrote it tried their best to make the handwriting as unrecognisable as they could but you have a sneaky suspicion of who left it. 

As you push it into your pocket, wanting to keep it on you so you can reread it throughout the day, Aaron walks into the bullpen and sends you a gentle smile as he heads up to his office. You watch him settle down at his desk, pulling out his own items from his briefcase before casually adjusting his yellow sticky notes on his desk with a focused expression. Your heart misses a beat and you feel as light as a feather, knowing that you just fell for him even more. After that, your day is infinitely better. 

There's an hour before your shift ends when your stomach starts growling at you. Sighing to yourself, you push away from your desk and make your way to the bathroom for a small break, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly as thoughts of Aaron invade your mind. The thought of him leaving a note for you made your heart swell multiple sizes and you had to restrain yourself from giggling out loud at the thought, feeling happier than you have in days. 

You make your way back to your desk to refill your coffee cup when you find another note, yellow like the last one, neatly folded on top of your case file. You chuckle to yourself and glance up to Aaron’s office, his eyes meeting yours for a moment between the open blinds before he looks away as if he wasn’t looking at you at all, and you grin as you open the note.

‘YOU HAVEN’T EATEN YET.’

Emily raises an eyebrow at you when you let out a loud snort and slap your hand over your mouth. You shake your head at her and send her a look as if to say you’ll tell her later before looking back at the note and laughing quietly to yourself. The way he words it, so factual and certain, makes you feel warm. It’s so him, even when he’s clearly trying not to be.

Shoving the note in your pocket, you make your way to the kitchenette to heat up some leftover pasta. A few minutes later Aaron is sidling up beside you, pouring fresh coffee into his mug. It’s silent for a few moments as you both focus on your own tasks. 

“Thanks for reminding me to eat,” you say, smiling at him. 

He stills for a moment. “Sorry?”

You laugh and shake your head fondly at him. “Don’t play stupid, Hotchner. I know it’s you leaving the notes.”

A small smile tugs at his lips. "It hasn't even been a full day. Was I that obvious?" 

You snort. “Hotch… you wrote them in all caps and ended both messages with a period. They sound exactly like something you’d say anyway; even the tone felt like you. Didn’t even take me two seconds to figure out who it was, even with the poor attempt at changing up the handwriting.”

Aaron raises his eyebrows and pretends to look offended. "Poor attempt? I think it was pretty good!"

“In your dreams, maybe.” 

“Well, what about your notes? I could tell it was you from a mile away.”

“Really?”

“...No. It took me about two weeks to realise.”

You let out a loud laugh as you pull your food from the microwave. Aaron smiles at you with bright eyes as he sips at his coffee, wincing when it burns his tongue. 

“Two weeks, Mr. Profiler? We oughta get you an award for that.”

“Yeah. Make sure it says I’m the unit chief too so that everyone knows I suck at my job. Couldn’t even figure out it was my own subordinate leaving me notes.”

You smirk at him as you stir your pasta. "Is that all I am to you? Your subordinate?"

Aaron's face turns serious and he tilts his head to the side. "Of course not." He rubs the pad of his thumb idly against his closed fist for a few moments. "Thank you. For the, the notes. I didn't realise how bad I was at taking care of myself until you started reminding me to." 

 "Yeah," you chuckle, "you're pretty bad, to say the least." 

"Seems like you've been going through the same thing this week, though. Don't want you turning into me." 

You sigh. "Yeah. Just… that last case…" 

His hand slowly lands on your shoulder and he gives you an empathetic smile. “I understand. My office is always open if you ever want to talk. It doesn’t necessarily have to be about the case but I’m there for that too.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it. And you… can come to me about anything, too. Just want you to know that.”

Aaron’s smile widens as he pulls back. “Thank you. I’ll leave you to eat. Speak to you later, yeah?" 

And off he goes, leaving you feeling like you might burst into flames.

After that day, the two of you get into the habit of leaving notes for each other all the time, you with a green sticky note and him with yellow. Gentle reminders to eat or to stretch your legs and the like. But as you get to know each other more intricately outside of work, you find that the notes become more personal. You make sure to remind Aaron that he has an appointment at Jack’s school or that he’s meant to restock on Jessica’s favourite tea when she visits, and he lets you know when you’re low on your comfort snacks in the office or have a doctor’s appointment coming up. 

Soon enough, when you start to get even closer and he begins inviting you to his apartment for movies and meals, you find yourself leaving notes around his place. Little messages in the kitchen to remind him when something goes out of date or the living room to make sure he doesn't forget to pick up a case file on his way out. Even telling him that he's a great boss or that you (and the team, but you put emphasis on the fact that you) appreciate him. 

It's safe to say that it's no surprise when, after you hide your face in his chest during a terrifying scene in a horror movie, the two of you quickly become more than friends.  

Penelope is over the moon for you, Derek is glad Aaron finally pulled his head out of his ass and made a move, Emily finally understands what made you happy all those months ago, JJ is happy you both found each other, Dave is proud that Aaron finally moved on and found someone new, and Spencer is indifferent to the whole situation. You and Aaron are, much like the others, ecstatic.

When you move in with him, the apartment very quickly fills up with yellow and green sticky notes, the two of you leaving reminders of your love everywhere. And when he proposes to you, he leaves a yellow sticky note inside the box that tells you how much he adores you. Like a fucking dork. But he’s your dork, and you burst into tears at the sight and cherish the note forever.

At the wedding, Aaron makes sure that his pocket square is yellow, in honour of his colour, and unbeknownst to him, you make sure your own outfit has some semblance of green in it. It makes him tear up and, unlike every other time he gets emotional, he’s not afraid to show how much it affects him.

For years to come, the two of you leave each other yellow and green sticky notes no matter what. Jack does it with his partner, refusing to break the habit, and their children do it with theirs, and their children with theirs, following the tradition until the only memory of how it started are the tattered notes kept in the storage of your great-great-grandchildren’s attic.

tag list: @criminalskies @citrusiove @hotchs-big-hands @ssahotchnerr @sillyhotchsgirl

[into-the-lokiverse]

Who You Really Are (Loki, God of Stories x Reader)

Summary: When all appears lost to an aspiring novelist, the God of Stories sends a message of hope.

(credit to @lokitvsource for the gif)

You weren't sure how much further you could go on, or if you could go on.

For years, one of the biggest things you desperately wanted in life was to be a novelist. To entertain with stories of magic, power, action, romance, and a little nonsense.

But lately, as you sat before your desk, exhausted from the day job you relied on to pay the bills, you just couldn't bring yourself to move forward with your debut story. The plot felt too twisted to the point even you could barely comprehend it at times. The characters once vivid, were fading into shadows and dust of their former selves. And the scenes you envisioned in detail started to feel...unreachable.

And yet, you couldn not stop scribbling notes at every random moment of inspiration. You clung to the memory of your characters.

Like a parasite or an infection, the idea of your story plagued your mind for weeks, months to the point where it never seemed to leave you. You could barely think straight about anything else, even cleaning.

Half-drank cups of coffee at every corner of the desk, loose napkins with random thoughts written on them, a garbage can full of tissues, candy wrappers, and tea bags, a folder filled with printed images of your dark-haired, blue-eyed muse, and a stack of books that you checked out for "inspiration" but hardly touched.

The floor surrounding your desk had a thin layer of dust, wherever there weren't fallen pens you hadn't the heart to pick up, or papers you abandoned.

Am I meant to be a writer, or am I simply possessed?, you contemplated over a cup of stale coffee. Am I truly, clinically insane with obssssion? Am I doing the right thing, or have I finally lost my mind? Maybe I'm just crazy...maybe I'm wasting my time, doing the wrong thing that was never meant for me.

Or maybe I'm just not worthy of being the person who...does things. The person who flourishes in doing something they love.

But just as you were about to put your head down on the one free space on your cluttered desk, you spotted a mysterious note in parchment.

It read,

I believe in you.

I believe in every part of you, even in that couple of paragraphs you've stuffed in your desk (which honestly should be cleaned, but you won't do it.).

I believe in you because I know who you could become.

Because I know who you really are. You're a talented, blessed individual burdened with a glorious compulsivity to write and far too much fear for your own good.

But who you really are, it does not matter. It is all about the stories. The adventures.

There is a last refuge for the unloved and the desperate, and the persecuted.

When life gets too impossible, when life gets too terrifying, find hope in this, my talented scribe. That when all else fails, remember that you are a branch on the tree of life.

And in the center of that tree, there is someone watching over you, protecting you like he's always done before, and will continue to do so.

Your branch is just beginning. So marvel me, and marvel yourself with all you do. My blessing is with you.

For all time always.

Loki