#so they already have this tendency to brush off any compliments someone gives them on something they've drawn

[byanyan]

oh, someone liking byan's drawings or doodles enough to even consider getting them as a tattoo... one of my favourite things

[yandere-daze]

congrats for 2k followers daze!! you total deserve it🙇 may i req for general yandere hcs with arashi if it's ok? tysm!!

Awww thank you!!! That´s very sweet of you 🥺💕 More than happy to write for Arashi, thank you for the request!! ^^

Likes and reblogs appreciated!

gn reader

tw yandere, obsession, possessiveness, violence towards others

General Yandere! Arashi headcanons

Arashi is a protective and doting yandere! She´s very obsessed and passionate with her darling and so everyone around you two will know just how taken she is with you!

She would be very sweet and gentle most of the time, she wants to take care of her darling and so Arashi likes to give them lots of gifts. It´s very common for her to bring her darling on shopping trips to find new cute outfits for them. She does listen to your own wishes but she also has the tendency to pick out a lot of clothes for you to try on and she won´t take a “no” as an answer. Just trust her tastes as a professional model, she only wants you to look your absolute best!

Her stare would be so intense too as she carefully examines how your new outfit looks on you before beaming and showering you with compliments

“Oh my! You look so wonderful in this, y/n! I knew I was right to pick this one out, it suits you so well. You like it too, don´t you? Oh you´re just so adorable I could eat you right up!”

There´s this certain glint in Arashi´s eyes when she says that, that kind of scares you. For just a moment, you saw a glimpse of the darker side Arashi tries to hide from you

Because yes, I think she would try to hide most of her yandere side from her darling, or at least to not make her twisted sense of love all too obvious. She dreams of a sugary sweet romance with her dearly beloved and so it wouldn´t do for them to see her as some kind of scary monster, no?

Still, Arashi has no problem with showing her strong and intimidating side if someone is annoying or harassing you. How dare they try to mess with you? Don´t worry about a single thing, she´s going to take care of them for you!

It´s like all hesitation is gone the minute she sees you being uncomfortable, her gentle expression all gone, instead an angry frown now on her face

She´s going to beat the pest that bothered you into a pulp for you^^ They should know never to mess with you again or there might be worse consequences for them in the future

Just. very overprotective with her darling, She hates seing you in distress!

She doesn´t tell you that the reason she likes doing your makeup so much is that she gets giddy at having an excuse to be so close to you and to use her own makeup brushes and lipstick on you and vice-versa

It´s not very hygienic but she loves applying the lipstick she had used on you just a few moments ago to her own lips, sighing blissfully at the fact that you were sharing an indirect kiss. If only she could kiss your lips, oh how wonderful that would be!

Arashi also is incredibly touchy with her darling, she loves hugging you tightly or holding onto your hand in the crowd so you “don´t get lost”. She gets excited at every opportunity to be close to you and gets visibly upset when others try to intrude on your alone time. Can´t they see that you´re already taken? It should be obvious from how terribly clingy Arashi is!

She would try not to mind it too much because she doesn´t want you to get upset but sometimes she just really wishes all of these other people would just leave you alone so you could only have each other. She doesn´t need anyone except you so why should it be any different for you? You would be happy together!

Loves taking pictures where it´s only the two of you and treasures each and every one of them. Might even purposefully cut off other people from a group photo because she doesn´t want to be reminded that there are other people in your life

A thought I had is that Arashi might invite you along to a photo shoot with a couples motive that she is modeling for and just coincidentally the other model that was supposed to be her partner for the job got into an unfortunate accident and had to be hurried to the hospital

How sad! But what will happen now? The photo shoot is super urgent and there is no one else on set that could do the job for the other model!

You can probably imagine where this is going. Arashi says that you could be the other model, she thinks you´r really good-looking and perfect for the job so if someone as experienced as her thinks you´re suitable then there isn´t really any reason to refuse. It´s not like they have any other option at the moment

She would even do your makeup herself and then you´re both posing in front of the camera in matching clothes and being so close together, bodies touching as she holds your hand tenderly

Arashi is enjoying every moment of this, wishing that you could be like this forever. She wants you to be a real couple and not for show! But she´s definitely taking this opportunity to make as many romantic gestures as she can get away with just for this photo shoot

Wrapping her arms around you, gently stroking your cheek and even kissing your hand like a loyal knight protecting their liege. It´s all so romantic, her heart is beating wildly

The agency that booked the photo shoot is very impressed with how real you two managed to portray a couple in love, you can almost feel the intense adoration in the gaze that Arashi directs at you, it´s like you´re the only person that matters in her world!

The result to all of this? When the advertisement actually gets revealed to the public, everyone that sees it is convinced that you must be dating Arashi in secret. How else could you explain the undeniable intimacy between the two of you?

Arashi is more than happy with this development, now no one is going to try and take her precious darling away from her again! Come on, you know you two would make a really cute couple, why not try it out?

Everyone else is already convinced you two are dating anyway, who would believe you if you said it wasn´t true? It´s best to just give in and let Arashi live her happily ever after

[mercy-burning]

Myth or Movie

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Unbeknownst to the two of them, Y/N and Spencer's children have worked up a plan to get them to meet... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative/unprotected sex, someone is misgendered (nothing too bad, it’s very brief, and it’s sincerely apologized for by the person who misgenders) Word Count: 4.2k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This is my 2nd entry for Pom’s ( @imagining-in-the-margins ) Enemies To Lover’s Writing Challenge! This one was one of the prompts she provided: You and (Character)'s kids don't get along, so you have to have a talk. Turns out you... really really get along... and I couldn’t wait to tackle it! I believe my exact words were: “I’m gonna Parent Trap these bitches”... So do with that what you will lol

———

"I'm so sorry I'm late!"

Two heads turn to stare at me as I burst through the doors. I'm out of breath from running through the building, something the staff really didn't seem to appreciate, though their shouts and annoyed glances were the last thing on my mind.

As I try to catch my breath, the two heads stand, and suddenly I feel a lot smaller.

One of them I recognize— Principal Anteros. I'd met with her before over some of Sky's academic achievements, all positive things, which is why today's circumstances make being in this office rather uncomfortable.

It's also why I seem to shrink with embarrassment at my tardiness— and appearance. Waitressing has its benefits, but today's whirlwind of phone calls and a mention at meeting another parent are not any of them.

Speaking of, the other person in the room is one I've never seen before. He's taller than both Anteros and I, extremely well dressed, and probably the most intimidatingly beautiful human being I'd ever met. I can barely meet his eyes, and so I try not to think about what he's doing here—to think about having to talk to him.

I shrink even further.

"Ms. Y/L/N," Principal Anteros greets. Thankfully she doesn't sound too upset given the circumstances. "Please, have a seat."

I do, brushing off my uniform as if that will somehow help my appearance. The soft leather of the chairs, however comfortable they might be, fail to bring me any comfort at all.

"As I'm sure you've guessed already, this is Doctor Reid, Vivian's father."

Great, he's a fucking doctor? This already bodes well for me...

Regardless of my reservations, I turn to him and give a faint smile. He waves in turn, and for the time being I'm extremely glad he doesn't insist on shaking my hand.

"It's nice to meet you," he says, surely nothing but a formality.

"You, too," I say quickly, then turn back to Principal Anteros. "Your phone call sounded urgent... Is everything alright?"

As soon as I say it, I feel kind of dumb. Because of course everything isn't alright. My child's principal called a meeting with another parent, and that can never mean anything good, not to mention the fucking intimidation and awkwardness in the room right now. I almost apologize, trying to explain that that wasn't exactly what I meant to get across, but then I would have just been talking for way too long, embarrassing myself further.

Once again, I'm thankful for Anteros's ability to move the conversation along. "I'm not sure, but it doesn't seem so. I only bring this to attention because Sky and Vivian are both stellar students. They've never had any disciplinary issues or difficulties with other students..."

"No one's hurt, right?" Mr. Reid asks. I know he's just concerned for his child, but for some reason it feels like an attack on me, like he assumes my kid had something to do with it.

"No, no one's hurt. Thankfully there weren't any physical altercations. But it seems your girls are quite... loud."

The doctor looks like he wants to say something, but I'm quick to jump in before he can. "Sorry... Sky is non-binary. They use they/them pronouns."

I half expect one or either of them to make a big deal or just roll their eyes at me, as most people seem to do when I correct them on the matter, but Anteros gives a sincere apology and Reid probably couldn't have cared any less.

I still can't tell if I like him or not...

But that doesn't matter right now.

"What do you mean by loud?" I continue.

Anteros sighs. "Well, while there hasn't been any physical violence, your kids seem to have very heated arguments, usually during lunch or in the hallway in passing... We thought maybe we could resolve it here since, like I said, they're both excellent students, but then it started escalating to classroom arguments... It's a lot of screaming..."

I have never known Sky to raise their voice at anyone, not even in a situation where I probably would have. Lord knows I'm thankful they don't have my impatience and tendency to get pissed off easily...

So what happened that was so bad, it made them snap?

"You... You're sure you mean Vivian is acting out like this?" Reid asks slowly, and I can't stop myself from laughing out loud.

"Come on, she's a professional. This has been going on for weeks, in her school, I'm sure she would know if it was your kid having a screaming match with someone else..."

This time Doctor Reid actually looks over at me, an eyebrow raised, and though I very much believe what I've just told him, the way he's looking at me right now drops my heart straight down to my stomach, like he's the principal and I'm the student acting out—No, it's worse than that... I feel like he's a disappointed parent, but not with Vivian, with me.

I avoid his intimidating stare and look down at the ground. "Sorry... I'm just... This isn't like Sky, either, I don't know what to do..."

"Well, usually when we have these sort of disputes, we like to have the students talk it out amongst themselves with a moderator present. But we've tried that, and it seems that they still haven't made any progress. Now, I know your children are good at heart, and it seems like you both are excellent parents— You know your children better than anyone here ever could. So, I'm proposing the two of you take a meeting some time and try to figure out how to settle this."

Seriously? If it hasn't been made clear already, this man is a doctor of some kind, planets away from my league in any capacity, and I can just picture the two of us in a screaming match close to what I imagine our children's looked like...

Maybe we can just e-mail.

"Okay," he agrees evenly, and I'm surprised he seems this calm considering I've just practically yelled at him... "I have free time this afternoon if you want to talk it over."

"I have to get back to work, but I get done at five," I sigh, wanting to get this over with. "Are you free then?"

"Mhm."

"Good," Anteros chirps, standing and leaving Doctor Reid and I to follow suit. "Perhaps over the weekend we can get this settled."

I sure as hell hope so.

———

"Ms. Y/L/N, wait!"

I have no idea what he could possibly want from me now that we've set a time and place to talk tonight, but I'm just praying desperately that he doesn't want to take this time alone in the parking lot to get back at me for accosting him in Anteros's office...

Thankfully, his face when he approaches seems rather kind.

"You can call me Y/N..."

"Right," he says, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets and nodding. "I'm Spencer."

"Spencer... So, um... Did you need something?"

"O—Oh, I just... I know you have to get back to work so I'll make this short, but I wanted to see if you wanted to do, uh... dinner tonight?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, I just figured since we probably didn't expect for our weekend to go this way... We should make it worth it?"

"Are you really trying to turn this into a date?"

"W— No, not really, I just... You know, I thought it might be nice to... make this less like a chore, you know? A—And don't feel like you have to say yes, it was just a thought, I'm sorry if I made this weirder..."

The fact that I still can't figure this man out bothers me, but right now he's blushing, and he looks like he's trying to save himself from embarrassment, and it's so fucking adorable that I don't really care that I was just annoyed.

So I tell him, "Sure. Why not?"

"Really?"

"Yeah... Besides, Lord knows I haven't gone out for dinner in a long time."

The doctor is relieved, a smile creeping up on his lips that suddenly tugs at my insides and makes me wish for a second that it really is a date he's offering... "Okay, good. Do you want to meet at Waterstone, seven o'clock?"

The excitement starts to drain from me as he says it, followed by an incoming wave of embarrassment. "Oh, man, that... That place is kind of expensive, I don't—"

"Oh, it's okay, I'll pay for everything. I'll even wait outside for you so we can go in together if you'd like..."

Why he's being so nice to me I have no idea, but it's making my annoyance melt and my heart start to beat faster, and I really don't know how to feel about that. In fact I'm pretty sure it's weird as fuck given the circumstances.

But all I have to do is make it through this weekend, hopefully all will be back to normal, and I won't ever have to think about it ever again.

"Alright... It's a date."

———

Out of all the scenarios I'd pictured for the end of the night, this definitely had not been one of them.

I finished my shift at the diner, imagining on my drive home the look on his face when I inevitably showed up with something on my face or stained on my dress; Instead I showed up to Waterstone and was greeted with wandering eyes and showered with bashful compliments.

I expected to get into some type of argument about how each of our kids were better than the other or something, but we ended up talking through their traits with compassion, interest, and pride, all while agreeing that we just have to sit with them this weekend and explain that there are easier, better ways to sort out disagreements than screaming at each other in public.

I expected not to have much fun at all, but by the time we gathered the check and headed out the door, Spencer and I were laughing, just a little tipsy on Cabernet, our hands gently brushing and sparks shooting up my arm at the feeling.

I expected to go our separate ways and walk to my car and drive home, but instead he ended up telling me he was taking the Subway home, and I offered to give him a ride to the opposite side of town where I lived (Waterstone was right in the middle).

I expected to walk through the door, stumble straight up to bed, and sleep until Sky inevitably woke me up with them saying I've slept in too late and needed to get ready for work, but instead I ended up following Spencer up to his door to say goodnight.

And now we're at a fork in the road, and I can take one of two paths.

I can say goodnight, watch him walk in, and then go home and forget about this whole thing.

Or I can keep letting him stare at me until I find myself leaning in to kiss him. Whether or not he'll actually reciprocate is another story, but the little bit of wine tingling in the surface of my body and the dark, intense look in his eye gives me more courage than I've had since I met him.

Before I can make a move, Spencer talks, his voice small and inviting. "Do you want to come inside?" The beating of my heart quickens immensely as he takes another step forward and brings his fingers out to graze my chin. "Vivian's with her mom tonight."

Yes. Vivian's mom, who divorced Spencer pretty soon in the marriage after she just decided his job was too much to handle. He'd quit and took a teaching job, but even still, she declined his pleading to stay married and eventually admitted that she just wasn't in love with him anymore. At least she had the decency to let him have joint custody once his schedule cleared up, and it seemed like they were decent co-parents. Maybe even friends.

I think about Sky, how much they wish their dad had stayed, and how much I wish he had too. I was devastated when he left without anything more than a note. For years it took a huge toll on us, and I barely had the headspace to even think about dating anyone since then.

But here I am now, standing with this man who has also lost a spouse, who's somewhat of a single parent, and who seems kind and genuine enough that I don't think I'd have to worry about bringing him into the life of my child.

Though, I don't even know it'll go that far. I'm getting too far ahead of myself, and so to slow down I look at what's right in front of me. Right now.

Spencer looks at me like he wants to devour me. My whole body is tingling from head to toe. I want to kiss him, and I'm pretty damn sure he wants to kiss me back. He just invited me inside, which means that if I accept, we'll most likely end up sleeping with each other.

Again... Definitely not one of the scenarios I'd had in mind when I left the school today. But it's a damn good one, and he's so hot I want to cry.

My flirty switch turns on so fast, it nearly gives me whiplash. "And what are you gonna do if I say yes?"

"Depends... How badly do you want to walk tomorrow?"

My first instinct is to jokingly tell him to put me in a wheelchair, but I settle for kissing him instead, hoping that gives the same sentiment.

The way he melts into my body tells me I've succeeded. My arms fly up to his neck and pull him closer, and he holds me tightly to him, waiting for my lips to part so he can expertly slip his tongue past them.

I whine out and take a step towards the door. Spencer comes with me and fumbles with the keys in his pocket before reluctantly pulling away to get us inside.

Once we take our jackets and shoes off, he clings to me like static, drawn to me like a magnet, and I let him near without a second thought. Our lips find each other perfectly, like they've always meant to fit together. And as pieces of clothing come off on our way through the house and up to his bedroom, our limbs fit together just as well. Nothing is out of place.

Hell, I don't even remember how inferior to him I felt earlier in the day. Our jobs and lifestyles might seem like polar opposites, but for right now, the two of us are on very equal footing, coming together like it's always been meant to be.

I nearly fall apart when his fingers gather wetness from my cunt, just enough to tease me before pulling away and bringing them to his lips. I watch with a whine waiting on the back of my tongue as he slips his fingers past his mouth and sighs.

"More," is all he manages, and I want so badly to tease him—tell him how I know he can be more eloquent than that—but words are all lost on me too, when he drops to his knees and spreads me apart with ease. I have no choice but to reach behind and grip the foot-end of the bed as he works his tongue expertly against me.

Each of my sighs and whines are met with more avidity from him, taking the form of sharp flicks of the tongue over my clit, and once he adds his fingers to the mix, pumping them expertly inside me, I'm a fucking goner.

I come with a silent shout, clenching my thighs around his face and gripping the foot of the bed so tightly it feels like my hands might go numb.

Once my body loosens, Spencer gets up and kisses me, nearly knocking me over. I'm breathless and dizzy as the tang of my arousal coats my tastebuds. His hands are gentle despite the hunger in his lips, and the medley of sensations of all of these things has me weak in the knees.

"Getting harder to stand already, sweetheart?" he laughs, catching me as I fall into him. His hands clutch at my thighs and he carries me to the edge of the bed, crawling over top of me and kissing down my neck. "That's okay... I'll take good care of you."

I still can't manage to speak as he gently pushes in, the slow burn of him splitting me in two rendering me utterly incapable of even thought. I gladly welcome the pressure, especially once he's inside me all the way and lowering his body to mine. Our chests press firmly together as he pulls back and starts a steady pace with his hips. He traps me with his arms, bringing them to either side of my face. And when his fingers brush the hair from my eyes, he stares into them with intensity as he fucks me.

It's slow and hard. It's heart-pounding. It's earth-shattering. It's everything that makes sex worth having. In that moment we're two equals, so wrapped up in the mere feeling of each other that everything else is just background noise. He breathes me in and I do the same, and with each cant forward of his hips, he brings me deeper into this world we've both ultimately created together.

I want more than anything to wrap my legs around him and keep him close to me, but he's fucking me so good that I don't have the willpower. Instead, they lay spread out, lazy and open as his hips move between them. I'm warm all over, tingling everywhere our skin connects. When he kisses me, swallowing my pathetic attempts at whimpering his name, I'm positive that this is what Heaven must feel like.

Whether it's hours or only minutes later, eventually my body tenses, unable to hold back any further, and two particularly deep thrusts from Spencer send me barreling over the edge.

"There it is, sweetheart..." he praises, caressing my face with long, gentle fingers and leaving little kisses wherever they trail. His voice only seems to help me along, each warm syllable soothing the muscles that pulled taut at his mercy. "That's a good girl..."

I feel tired, calmed, and relaxed, when he pulls out only to jerk off over my lower stomach. Through tired eyes, I watch as he lets go and covers me with his release. Hearing him grunt out my name as he does it nearly wakes me up again, and it even finally brings some words out of me.

"God, you're so fucking hot..."

Well... Not exactly elegant, but the feeling gets across.

Spencer laughs and rolls over so that he isn't nearly crushing me anymore. He kisses down my neck, my arm, and he ever-so-slightly swipes the tip of his tongue over the mess he made before kissing my thigh and getting up to leave— presumably to get me something to clean up with.

Sure enough, he returns shortly with a wet washcloth and tenderly cleans me up. I manage to sit, leaning back on my elbows once he's done and smile at him. He's practically kneeling in front of me again, smiling back as his lips press featherlight kisses to the inside of my leg.

"How're you feeling?" he drawls, letting me pull him up to lay down with me.

"Really good. I haven't done that in so long..."

"Me either... I um... I hadn't really thought much about seeing other people once Lena and I got divorced... I guess I just wanted to put all my focus into being the best father I could, you know?"

"Mhm," I answer, turning to face him and interlocking our fingers. "I know exactly what you mean."

We lay like that for a few moments in comfortable silence, hands and limbs tangled while we breathe the same air and revel in the afterglow we've just created.

Suddenly Spencer laughs, and I squeeze his hand. "What is it?"

"I was just thinking... We probably wouldn't have met if not for Anteros calling us in, right?"

"Yeah..." I piece it together. "Guess I never thought of it that way."

"I just think it's funny, because in Greek mythology, Anteros was an Erote, known as an avenger of unrequited love, and he punished those who scoffed at romantic advances made by others... You and I never even thought about dating after our separations, and yet... Here we are now, because of Anteros."

Hearing him educate me on Greek mythology only serves to remind me how different we are. Still, the little story brings a comforting smile to my lips. "Well... Remind me to send her a basket of muffins or something to thank her."

"And tell her what? That you're grateful she got you laid?"

"Yeah. And what about it?"

The two of us dissolve into laughter that eventually fizzles and leaves us silent again. Our fingers are still tangled, and somehow we've snuggled in even closer.

"In any case, I'm glad I got to meet you, Doctor Reid."

"And I, you, Ms. Y/L/N..."

———

In the past two weeks since that first meeting, I hadn't received any more phone calls from Principal Anteros, which bode as a good sign.

Spencer and I decided to see each other as secretly as we could, which meant only giving vague details to our kids as to what we were doing in our spare time— It seemed weird to spring it on them if they didn't get along, so we figured it was best to wait until the situation was handled.

I tried to talk to Sky about their progress with Vivian, but they only insisted that everything was fine and they wouldn't have to worry anymore. And after relaying this information to Spencer, he informed me that Viv had said the same thing to him.

It wasn't until we both realized that they'd said the same things verbatim each time we asked, that something odd was going on.

And that's how we end up right here, Sky and I sitting on a park bench bathed in the golden October sun while I patiently wait for Spencer to 'coincidentally' show up with Vivian.

Thankfully I don't have to wait too long, because almost five minutes after we sit, I hear the familiar sound of my name falling from his lips, and it's hard to contain the cocky, playful smile that appears upon my own.

"Spencer, hey!" I call back, standing up and going to give him a hug. He pulls me in and he's nice and warm. He smells like burnt wood for some reason, and I want to breathe him in forever. Instead, I settle for a sweet kiss on the lips, both because I simply want to and also because it should baffle the fuck out of our kids.

Sure enough we pull away and look to them, and they look panicked. They have no idea what to do, what to say...

"Oh! Sorry... Viv, this is Y/N, Sky's mom."

The pure amusement in Spencer's voice makes me feel even warmer than being in his embrace. I look to his daughter and give her a wave. "Hi."

"H—Hi..."

It almost seems cruel to laugh at their predicament, but as I turn to Sky and introduce them to Spencer, they have clear annoyance written all over their face.

"Okay, Mom, I think we get it... How did you guys figure it out?"

"What, that you two pretended to hate each other so your principal would have to call us both in to meet?"

The pre-teens look at each other and sigh, truly defeated once and for all. "Yeah," they mutter simultaneously.

"Well, it surely didn't make any sense when you got in trouble for yelling at each other in the first place," Spencer points out. "And then when we asked you how things were working out, you both said the same exact thing..."

"It wasn't that hard to figure out, but we appreciate the effort," I add, reaching out to ruffle Sky's hair. They jerk away playfully, and I can't help but notice their smile as they peek over at Vivian.

"Our plan worked, though, so I call it a win," Vivian says with a shrug.

"As long as you two don't plan on causing any more disruptions at school..." Spencer looks between the both of them, and then at me, his eyes softening as he takes my hand and squeezes it. "Then yes. I'd call it a win, too."

I lean into him and laugh. "Turns out it wasn't Greek mythology that brought us together. It was The Parent Trap."

He raises an eyebrow, like he doesn't get what I mean, and before I can ask or explain, Vivian does it for me. "He's never seen it."

Spencer looks between the three of us like a lost and confused puppy, and we all laugh.

"Well, then, maybe we'll have to have a movie night sometime soon," I offer, reaching out for Sky.

Hand in hand, the four of us continue down the pathway, walking away from the setting sun while dried leaves rustle under our feet.

———

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If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get on it right away!

[noodles-and-oodles]

How dare you be so talented!! 😤 i love ur writings sm its unhealthy lol may i request the vice dorm leaders confessing/ or maybe trying to woo their gn!crush hcs pretty please with a cherry on top? Ace dont eat the cherry cuz i read the ones for azul and i just had to get the vice dorm leaders in there cuz i wuv em so much (>/////<) thank you noodle senpai 😘

Ahhh I’m glad you’re enjoying! lol it’s just the crack and idiot energy 🥴 thank you though hehe. Thank for you for requesting and I hope this is to your liking!

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Trey Clover

Trey will use what he’s good at to woo you, whether it be baking you treats or helping you out with something. He’ll always be available for you so please, don’t hesitate to come find him

He will definitely drop loooots of hints, heart shaped cookies, subtle compliments, and he’ll even ask you to bake with him. He’ll show off his skills, make that corny oyster joke, and just overall keep you entertained!

God forbid ADeuce finds out about his crush on you, they’ll certainly be butting their nosey asses in any chance Ace they get when they see you two together. Deuce will do his best to make Trey out to be the coolest senpai in the world while Ace will just outright say “wouldn’t it be pretty cool to date Trey-senpai?”

Trey’s mortified and tells you to brush off whatever they said to you but when you don’t deny or reject, Trey sees an opening. Maybe you actually found the idea of dating him appealing and this was the time to up the stakes? Trey will from then on do his best to make sure it’s CRYSTAL clear that he likes you

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie knows he doesn’t have much to offer, so he’ll also have to use what he already has in order to get you to notice him. He’ll offer to do things for you, without expecting anything in return and is always up for helping you out

The hyena is so sweet…if you have a favorite lunch from the cafeteria he’ll be first in line to make sure he can get it for you. He’ll even trade with others if he can just do you can have it, anything for you

He’d probably want to ask someone for advice but Jack and Leona are clearly no help so he turns to your friends, the ADeuce combo, in hopes that they would have some intel (they don’t)

Eventually, he’ll just realize that being himself will have to do. He’ll make some jokes, hoping to see your smile and slowly but surely will try to throw in some subtle brushes of your hands to see how you react

Jade Leech

Jade’s way of wooing is just so…Jade. Don’t be surprised if this man gives you a mushroom at some point, it’s really just his way of sharing his hobby with you in hopes that you’ll take interest in it as well. Maybe not as much as him but enough to keep a conversation going

He’s a natural tease, it’s just how he shows his sadistic tendencies affection, cause he likes seeing your many expressions whether it’s you smiling, blushing, or even pouting. He loves them all! However, sad tears is the exception, he doesn’t tolerate anyone making you upset, even himself

This eel is ever the gentleman but it increases tenfold when you are around, he only wants you to have the most pleasant experiences with him unlike others who don’t get to see the nice side of him often

Jade is patient because idealistically, he wants you to confess first and if you do, he’ll ask for reaffirmation a few times, that way he knows for sure that he didn’t accidentally scare you into confessing, he knows he’s pretty intimidating so it would make him feel better to get a positive response from you first

Jamil Viper

Unfortunately for Jamil, he quite literally doesn’t have the time to try to woo you really. In between all of his work, chores, and taking care of Kalim that leaves not a lot of time for him to try and fight for your affections

It frustrates him but don’t worry, since he really really likes you, he’ll make time to see you. You’ll likely wonder how it is that he can spend time with you when he’s so busy but who knows, maybe that actually makes you happy (I know I would be) But also worried at the same time ahhh

Small gifts are his go to method! For someone that doesn’t have time to spare, he can brainstorm things that will be quick but thoughtful that you may like. Snacks, thoughtful but small notes, and if he has extra time he may even gift you with some handcrafted jewelry that he made himself

I also like to believe that if he had a day off, he’d totally ask you to spend it with him or something. Just talking, relaxing, and spending time with his crush is probably a dream to him since he so rarely gets to have a proper conversation with you, even when you see each other in the halls

Rook Hunt

Rook is everything but quiet about his crush on you, he’s always complimenting you from the moment he sees you til the moment you guys have to unfortunately part ways with one another. His way of showering you with his affections can even be a bit overbearing at times

Poems, lavishes of love letters, and most importantly, his undying loyalty. He’ll ask you to do even the most random things, his only reason being that he wants to spend time with you. Rook’s dramatics are always a good mood setter, you’re entertainment will surely be guaranteed anytime you two are together

He does his best to learn everything about you!! From the things you like, dislike, love, hate, and even small habits that you may have. Rook will memorize them and store them for later usage when it comes time for him to give you his routinely shower of affection <3

Rook tries his best to not scare you off but even he can’t help gushing at your beauty, as a man that proclaims to love beautiful things, it wouldn’t be in his nature to just not say anything lol. He’ll compliment you til your ears fall off and whew boy, his confession (the one he isn’t giving every day I mean) will be so romantic you may just cry

Ortho Shroud

Ortho baby!! He won’t be included in this 🙇‍♀️

Lilia Vanrouge

Haha, Lilia is such a trickster, it’d be hard to tell if he’s just teasing you or if he actually really does like you. He may play a joke on you every now and then, but he likely doesn’t mean anything by them. It’s more for his own…data collecting

Despite all his tomfoolery, Lilia is a smooth talker! With many years of age comes great experience so it’s no surprise that he knows just the right things to say to sweep you off your feet. He’s also got all the dad jokes, words of advice whenever you need them, and most importantly, an ear whenever you want someone to talk to

Lilia loves conversations with you, even if they’re really random. He sees them as a great opportunity to get to know you even more, making sure to remember what you’ve told him and using it to surprise you later. Just a bunch of small things here and there in hopes that you’ll notice that he really is listening to you when you confide in him!

This fae is pretty talented in many different areas, instruments being one of them. Who knows, he may dedicate a song to you one day or teach you how to play an instrument so that the two of you can play together! Lilia’s holding onto his lucky knickers that through doing this he’ll finally be able to manage to worm his way into your heart!

[bluejayblueskies]

For the Touches Ask Game, if you can, a little Jonmartin with Touching/9?

Thank you so much, I love your writing!!! 😭💕

touches prompt list

9 - holding hands across the table

i did a season two lunch dinner date fic! cw for mentions of paranoia/stalking and murder (in typical s2 fashion)

.

They’ve been having lunch together for two months when Martin asks, with enough stuttering that it takes Jon a moment to process his words, if Jon would like to get dinner with him.

Jon hesitates only briefly before agreeing. Between finding out about Martin’s CV and the newly delivered CCTV footage, he’s almost entirely convinced that Martin did not, in fact, murder Gertrude Robinson and that his various attempts to make sure Jon eats and sleeps and drinks tea are simply a result of Martin being… well. Being nice, he supposes. If overbearingly so.

Why Martin feels the need to coddle Jon, he doesn’t quite know. But if he’s being honest with himself, he’s… not complaining. His frequent skipping of meals often isn’t an intentional thing, born instead of his tendency to get so wrapped up in his work that hours fly by without him noticing, and while sometimes he’s irritated when his flow is interrupted by Martin’s cheery greeting, more often than not it’s… a relief. To step out of the Archives, away from the feeling of eyes on the back of his neck, and pretend like he isn’t working alongside a murderer.

Maybe a murderer. He… he doesn’t know. According to the CCTV footage, Tim and Sasha and Martin and Elias all have alibis. But he still can’t shake the feeling that he gets, sitting in his office or walking down the corridors or reading through statements, that something isn’t right.

That there’s something in the Archives that’s not supposed to be there.

So, it’s… nice to get outside. And as much as Tim may joke about it—or… used to joke about it, at least—Jon does, in fact, try to eat three square meals a day if he can remember to do so. Try being the operative word. He’s been… caught up in work lately, and often he glances at the clock to see that it’s well past ten and he’s accidentally skipped dinner entirely. He hadn’t thought Martin had noticed, given that the man doesn’t live in the Archives anymore and typically leaves promptly at five along with Tim and Sasha, but evidently, he was wrong.

As Jon sits across the table from Martin at the small café they’ve chosen for lunch, he has the fleeting thought that Martin’s been sneaking back and watching him work and that’s how he knows that Jon has been missing dinner. He lets himself feel it, takes a deep breath, and pushes it away with considerable effort. No, that’s not… he trusts Martin. He does. Or he… he wants to. He’s trying.

“Jon?”

“Hm?” Jon blinks up at Martin, who’s clearly waiting for a response. “Sorry, I-I didn’t catch that.”

Martin’s cheeks are dusted a rosy red. He fiddles nervously with the black ring on his finger—a bit thicker in width than Jon’s, the metal smooth and bright where it reflects the sunlight. “Is—is this Friday okay? At—at seven? I-I can, um, meet you at the Institute. U-Unless you’d like to meet there! That’s, er. That’s fine with me too.”

“The Institute is fine,” Jon says, picking at his sandwich with a frown. The bread is damp and squishes under his fingers. “Perhaps we can go somewhere a bit less… soggy.”

“R-Right, yeah. I, um. I was actually thinking… you know that new bistro o-over in Clapham? M-Maybe not, it’s, er. It’s new. But I-I heard it has good South Asian food, which, um. I know you like.”

Martin’s face is fully crimson by this point. Maybe we should sit inside next time, Jon thinks. Or at least in the shade. The sun is rather intense. Martin picks up his mug of tea and takes a long sip, staring resolutely down at the table once he’s done. Jon waits, but it appears that Martin is done rambling, so he says, “Yes, that sounds fine.” Then, because it’s polite (and not untrue): “I am… looking forward to it.”

“O-Oh? Oh!” Martin looks at him, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Y-Yeah, um. M-Me too.”

We should definitely sit inside next time, Jon thinks as the back of his neck grows warm, the tips of his ears surely darkening. Good lord.

He doesn’t think the heat is responsible for the way Martin’s smile makes something in his stomach flutter. He decides to blame that on the atrocious sandwich because… well. It’s as convenient an excuse as any.

Because Martin is just looking out for Jon’s wellbeing. This is no different than him bringing mugs of tea when Jon is recording statements or accompanying him to A&E to get stitches after Michael or inviting him to lunch in the first place. This is not, he tells his ridiculous, over-zealous, butterfly-filled stomach, a date.

Because it’s not. Martin is simply a coworker—an employee—and a friend. Who he trusts. Maybe. Probably. And thinks about sometimes when he’s unoccupied. His hands, mostly, which look very soft and very capable. His smiles as well, each one like a gift meant just for Jon. The way he carries the heavier boxes that Jon can’t quite manage and can reach the top shelves to retrieve statements without even having to clamber up onto the bottom ones.

All completely normal thoughts to be having about a friend

So, when Jon wears the soft maroon button-down on Friday that he’s been told brings out his eyes and takes care to arrange his hair into something other than the haphazard braid he’s been managing lately and digs a bottle of peach nail varnish out of the bottom of his drawer the night before to coat his fingernails with, it’s just because he feels like it. Not because this is a date. Because it’s not a date. It’s just dinner. With Martin.

Who shows up to the Institute at quarter to seven wearing a nicer jumper than usual—cable-knit and mustard yellow, looking incredibly soft to the touch—and with small black studs decorating the lobes of his ears. He smiles widely when he sees Jon, also standing outside earlier than agreed upon, and Jon almost turns around to see if someone’s behind him. But there isn’t. That smile, unfettered and full of joy—it’s… it’s for him.

Surely, Martin is just… happy to see him leaving the office while it’s still light out for once. He’s certainly chided Jon enough times for his habit of falling asleep at his desk. (Which he’s been trying to do less lately, if only because it would be easy for someone to sneak up on him while he’s unconscious and slip a knife into his back or poison his tea or shoot him three times in the chest or—)

“R-Ready to head out?” Martin says, abruptly halting Jon’s train of thought. He tries not to look like he’d just been theorizing about his own inevitable demise as he mumbles his assent and follows Martin away from the Institute and into the still-bustling streets of London.

And if he presses close to Martin’s side while they walk, well. It’s just because every brush of unfamiliar contact against him feels overwhelming, enough so to make him flinch away. And if he takes Martin’s hand for a small period of time, well. It’s just because the crowd has thickened and he doesn’t want them to get separated. And if he feels particularly warm in his jacket when Martin laughs awkwardly at his own joke and rubs at the back of his neck, well. That’s just from exertion. It is quite a far walk to the restaurant.

The bistro is lovely. Jon typically doesn’t go for places like this—tucked between two nondescript buildings with a glass front that reveals soft, intimate lighting within and flowers planted in boxes outside—but once they’re inside and seated at their table, it’s… oddly charming. Jon shrugs out of his jacket, and even though it’s the same shirt he’s been wearing all day, Martin compliments him on it with a flush. The change from frigid winter air to the warmth of the bistro brings heat to Jon’s face as well, and he rolls up the cuffs of his sleeves to just below his elbows. Martin makes a choking sound, but when Jon looks up with a frown, he has his glass of water pressed to his lips.

“Sorry,” Martin says once he’s placed the glass back on the table. “Just, um. Uh. Tickle in my throat. A-Allergies, you know.”

Martin’s face pinches in what looks like a repressed wince, and Jon tries to be reassuring. After all, Martin is taking time out of his schedule to be here with Jon, and Jon doesn’t want to seem ungrateful. His grandmother taught him proper manners, and besides, he is… rather glad to be here.

His commiseration about his own experiences with seasonal allergies turns into a mini-lecture on the species of pollen-producing plants in their area. He only realizes he’s doing it when the waiter comes by with a cheery smile and asks if they’re ready to order.

Jon’s mouth snaps shut mid-sentence. He has not even opened his menu.

“I. Um.” Jon is about to ask for more time—which he strongly dislikes doing, as he’s had the waiting staff forget more than once about his table and he’s had to go through the mortifying ordeal of hailing them down like a-a bloody taxi—when Martin tilts his own menu toward Jon and points to an item in the middle of the page.

“They have chicken karahi and naan. I, er. I heard it’s good if you’re… interested.”

Jon blinks at the menu in surprise. “That… sounds great, actually. Er, medium spice, please.”

Martin orders his own squash curry, and the waiter takes their menus when he departs, leaving the spot in front of Jon oddly empty. Jon taps his fingers on the newly barren tabletop a few times, trying and failing to remember where he’d left off in his lecture. Ultimately, he gives up, deciding that Martin isn’t going to be interested in hearing about all of that and he’s already said enough on the subject.

Then, Martin says, “So, you were saying—about the pollen?” and something in Jon’s chest squeezes, an emotion he doesn’t know the name of. Relief, maybe, as Martin’s words manage to spark his memory and he picks up his train of thought again easily enough. Yes, that’s… that’s probably it.

The first few times they’d gone to lunch, Jon had made an effort to stop himself from rambling, as he was prone to do any time someone gave him the opportunity. He’d engrossed himself in his sandwiches and rice bowls and mediocre Chinese takeaway in order to keep from launching into an explanation of the origins of said folding takeaway containers or the documentary he’d watched recently about the Zhou dynasty. And the first few lunches had been… awkward. It wasn’t because Jon thought Martin was a murderer—he doesn’t think he’d have agreed to go for lunch if he truly believed that Martin might harm him. It was just… how things like this went when Jon was involved. He knows he struggles with casual conversation, and he’s never understood the purpose or execution of ‘small talk.’ He would be perfectly content to eat and exist in silence, except all too often he feels expected to provide some sort of conversation or entertainment, upon which point the silence becomes horribly oppressive and stress-inducing.

But he also knows that talking too much can be just as bad as not talking enough. His grandmother had always told him so. So he suffered through the awkward silences for the first few days, and Martin had let him, clearly assuming that if Jon wasn’t speaking, he shouldn’t either.

Then, around their fourth or fifth lunch together, Martin had begun to ask him questions. They were casual, genuine, and so clearly targeted at Jon’s interests that Jon was convinced that Martin was somehow following him home or searching through his computer history or—or something. On their eighth lunch together, Martin asked Jon about the newest exhibit at the museum—it had been about sharks, if Jon remembers correctly—and Jon couldn’t help asking how Martin knew that he’d gone to see it. He hadn’t explicitly asked if Martin had been following him, but he’s sure the sentiment was clear in his eyes.

The tips of Martin’s cheeks had grown red, and he’d said that Jon had mentioned a few days prior that he was planning on going. All traces of fear and paranoia had left Jon’s mind then, replaced by surprise and, beneath it, something warm and bubbly. Martin had remembered.

Their conversations had gotten a lot easier after that.

Despite how Martin seems to enjoy Jon’s long-winded tangents, he… does still make an effort not to hold a completely one-sided conversation. So, a few minutes into the continuation of his pollen discussion, he finds a natural stopping point and says, “So, er. You… like being outside?”

Not the most… articulated question Jon has ever asked. But Martin doesn’t seem to mind. His fingers curl around the bottom of his water glass, his palms smudging the condensation. “Yeah, w-when I can find the time, I suppose. I-I try to go for walks around my neighborhood if I can, if it’s not too dark by the time I get home, and there’s this park in—”

Martin cuts off with a small cough. He lifts his glass and takes a long sip, while Jon sits and drums his fingers against the table and tries not to bounce his leg too noticeably. “Sorry,” Martin says as soon as the glass leaves his lips, giving Jon an apologetic smile that somehow seems… artificial. Like it’s been plastered atop another, heavier expression. “S-Something in my throat again.” He hesitates, then continues, “There’s a park in Devon that I-I like, whenever I’m in that area.”

Devon’s quite a trip away, Jon thinks but doesn’t say. Why do you go to Devon? he doesn’t say. Is that where you go on Saturdays? he doesn’t say, because—well. It’s rather embarrassing, among other things, to admit to the fact that you’ve gone through your employee’s desk calendar because you thought he might have shot an old woman three times in the chest and had plans to do the same to you. Particularly when you are having dinner with said employee.

Ugh. Probably best not to think about the fact that he is technically Martin’s boss when he’s sitting three feet away from him at a candlelit table on what, to an outside observer, might look startlingly similar to a date.

But it’s not a date. Because Martin didn’t say it was a date, and he’s just trying to care for Jon, in that… over-the-top way that he does. Jon tries to muster up some irritation at the reminder that he’s likely being coddled, just for habit’s sake, but comes up empty.

He hasn’t been truly irritated with Martin in quite some time. He… doesn’t really know when that changed. When Martin became a source of comfort, rather than of annoyance.

“Jon?” Martin says. Right. Martin is still sitting across from him.

“Right,” Jon says, trying to sound like he hasn’t been drifting off in a hundred different directions. “That sounds… nice.”

Martin’s lips curl up into a small smile. “Yeah. I-It is. It, um. It makes the trip worth it, to be able to sit on one of the benches and just… write poetry.”

Jon has read some of Martin’s poetry, though Martin doesn’t know that. Jon doesn’t like poetry. Jon liked Martin’s poetry. These are, apparently, two truths that can and do coexist.

Jon does not mean to say, “Could I hear one?” But it appears that he is weary enough and relaxed enough and distracted enough that his verbal filter has small, critical holes in it. Damn.

Martin sputters. “U-Um, well, I-I suppose… I could, I-I do have a few, er. M-Memorized, if you—you really…” He trails off uncertainly. “You’re. Um. You’re sure?”

Well. Nothing to do but lean into it, Jon supposes. “I wouldn’t have asked if I weren’t sure, Martin,” he says, a bit snippier than he intends. The tips of his ears are hot, and he is deeply thankful that the dimness of the bistro hides the way they’re surely darkening.

“R-Right.” Martin clears his throat, looks down at the table. “I-I suppose I’ll just… do a short one?”

He proceeds to recite, in quiet, surprisingly stutterless lines, one of the poems that Jon already knows from the notebooks he’d left behind in the Archives. It’s… his favorite, if he were forced to pick one. But there is something different—something more—about hearing Martin speak the words aloud rather than simply reading them on a page. Martin pauses in places Jon hadn’t thought to pause, lingers on words he hadn’t thought to linger on, and adds a softness to the ends of lines and phrases that Jon finds himself enraptured by.

Logically, he knows that it’s not good poetry. He’d begrudgingly taken a poetry class during uni, had hated every minute of it, and had donated all of his books to charity shops the moment he wasn’t in need of them anymore. He’s read Dickens and Poe and Whitman—all the works that are considered great representations of their art form.

Martin’s poetry is nothing like theirs. His lines don’t follow the same rhythms; his words are clumsier, his images less profound. But still, even though Jon knows that it is technically not good poetry, he… he likes it.

He tries not to analyze that feeling too closely.

“So, um. Yeah,” Martin says after he finishes, rubbing his thumb over his ring. “I-It’s not really… great work, heh, you know, s-sorry.”

Jon is not the comforting sort. He’s been told that he’s too sharp at the edges, skin too full of spines and thorns. So he surprises himself, and probably his grandmother from beyond the grave, when he reaches across the table and takes Martin’s hand in his. It’s soft and big, the pads of Martin’s fingers lightly calloused from a past history of manual labor, and Jon thinks just for a moment how small his own hands look in Martin’s. He surprises himself even more when he says, honestly, “I enjoyed it, Martin.”

Martin blinks at him, eyes wide and owlish. His hand is rigid in Jon’s, like he’s afraid that if he moves, he’ll frighten Jon away like a skittish cat. “O-Oh.” It’s hard to tell in the dim light, but Jon thinks Martin might be blushing. “Well. T-Thanks.”

Jon nods once stiffly. He does not retract his hand. At first, it’s because he doesn’t think to do so, too wrapped up in the feeling of his skin against Martin’s. Then, it’s because it’s been long enough that doing so would be more awkward than keeping his hand there. He asks Martin about the inspiration behind the poem, for want of another conversation topic, and Martin talks about the trip he took to the countryside once and how it stuck with him, and Jon’s hand remains atop Martin’s. Martin takes a drink from his glass, and Jon takes a drink from his, but both of them use their free hands, as if in unspoken agreement that this is just how things are now. Jon’s hand is resting atop Martin’s and it will be until he has just cause to move it and that is just the way of the universe. Nothing to be done about it.

Their food comes, and looking extremely regretful about the fact, Martin extracts his hand from underneath Jon’s and reaches for his fork. They don’t mention the loss, and it’s quiet for a period of time while Jon eats his chicken karahi and Martin eats his squash curry and Jon tries not to openly moan at how good the food is.

Something must show on his face, because Martin smiles warmly at him and says, “Well? Was that Yelp reviewer correct when they said that the chicken karahi is ‘literally the best food they’ve ever eaten in their entire life’?”

Jon swallows a bite of admittedly very good chicken. “Well. I don’t know that I would quite go to that extreme, but it is rather enjoyable.” Reminds me of the way my grandmother used to make it, he doesn’t say. That feels like a date conversation, and this isn’t a date.

(It feels very much like a date.)

(It isn’t a date.)

“Good,” Martin says. Then, he smiles, wide and unabashed and like a ray of sunlight, and Jon quickly buries himself in his food again so he doesn’t say something foolish like I really like it when you smile at me like that or Is this a date? or I would very much like this to be a date.

They finish eating, and the waiter takes away their plates with the promise of bringing the check soon. Jon’s hands rest on the table, index finger fiddling with the edge of the cloth placemat in front of him. He’s in the middle of trying to convince himself that yes, it would be ridiculous to take Martin’s hand again, you should definitely not do that on this very much not-a-date, when Martin reaches out and takes Jon’s hand in his. Properly takes it, pressing their palms together and slotting his fingers easily between Jon’s and knocking their rings together as he squeezes gently.

“Um,” Jon says eloquently. He should very much not ask if this is a date. “What are you doing?”

Nope, that’s worse. That’s definitely worse.

“Oh!” Martin lets go of Jon’s hand immediately, and Jon does not try to chase Martin’s hand as it retracts, thank you very much. He’s more dignified than that. “S-Sorry, I thought… I, um. Never mind. I-I shouldn’t have… sorry. Again.”

“It’s fine,” Jon finds himself saying. Then, in an effort to do damage control: “I… didn’t mind.”

“You… didn’t?” Martin seems confused, which is understandable. If Georgie were here, she’d tell him that he’s giving, quote, ‘mixed signals.’ He’d never quite understood what counts as ‘mixed signals,’ and he doesn’t know that he ever will.

“I did not,” Jon confirms. “I just… I suppose I…”

He should not ask if this is a date. He really, really shouldn’t.

“Is this a-a date?”

It appears he’s found another one of the holes in his verbal filter. Lovely.

Martin’s eyes grow impossibly wider. He makes a series of sputtering sounds as Jon waits and tries not to bounce a hole through the floor with the heel of his foot. “You—you didn’t…” Martin seems to have a miniature internal debate with himself, his face cycling through a dozen different expressions over the next few seconds. Finally, he sighs and says, eyes fixated on the table between them, “I had… intended it to be. Though I suppose if—if you didn’t know it was a date, that. Um. Kind of defeats the purpose.”

“Does it?” Jon’s mouth says without his permission.

“I-I mean… you can’t really have a one-sided date,” Martin says with an awkward laugh. The waiter is nowhere to be seen, which Jon is grateful for and disheartened by in equal measure. This situation would certainly be easier with a convenient escape.

“I… suppose.” Jon worries at the edge of the placemat, pulling on a loose thread. “Though, it’s… if this were a date—or, I suppose, if I-I’d known it was meant to be a date—I… wouldn’t have acted much differently.” He pulls harder at the thread, feeling a bit bad for the way the fabric bunches around it. “I… would not have been… that is to say, I would have liked it if… rather, to say that I didn’t think about it would be, er… well, incorrect.”

Martin stares at him, clearly unable to make sense of Jon’s admittedly disjointed, half-finished sentences. Jon sighs and says, under his breath, “I am not opposed to considering tonight a date.”

Martin’s cheeks are red enough now that Jon can see the flush, even in the dim light. “U-Um. What?”

“I am not opposed,” Jon repeats, louder, “to considering tonight a date.” Lord, that’s mortifying to say out loud. How do people do this? To emphasize his point, he sticks his hand out, palm-up on the table. It’s stiff and awkward and he probably looks like a cat with its hackles raised. He focuses on the cable knit of Martin’s jumper so he doesn’t have to see whatever amused or mocking or disappointed expression is on Martin’s face as he realizes just how bad Jon is at all of this.

Martin is quiet for a moment. Then, just as Jon is about to pull his hand away and flee for the exit, he feels a touch against his palm. Martin’s hand settles tentatively atop his—not weaving their fingers together, not even properly holding it, just… pressing together, palm to palm. Jon can feel Martin’s heartbeat faintly against the tips of his fingers where they press against the inside of Martin’s wrist. “Okay,” Martin says softly, like Jon has just given him a precious gift. “Then it’s a date.”

It’s a date. Jon’s skin has absolutely no reason to prickle at those words, nor does his stomach have any reason to squeeze and sprout butterflies. He nods, a bit brusquely, and opens his mouth to say something—god knows what—when the waiter appears next to their table, somehow having both comically bad and impossibly good timing.

Martin pays, despite Jon’s insistence that he can cover his own share, and then they’re back out in the cool night air, making their way toward the tube station. The first few minutes are quiet. There’s a tension between them that feels more anticipatory than awkward. Their hands brush once, twice. Then, on the third time, Martin hooks his fingers around Jon’s and clasps his hand in his, and Jon lets out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

They hold hands all the way to the tube station, up until they have to part ways to take separate lines. Jon runs through all the things that he thinks he’s supposed to say in a situation like this—I had fun tonight or We should do this again sometime or… something—but ends up saying instead, “How long have you…?”

He trails off, squeezing Martin’s hand a few times thoughtlessly, like a warm, bony stress ball. Martin seems to infer the rest of his question, however, because he squeezes Jon’s hand in return and says, “It’s… new for me too, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Jon nods and squeezes Martin’s hand again. He thinks that’s going to become quite a habit if they keep this up. “Right.”

Martin hesitates, before letting his grip on Jon’s hand loosen slightly. “We… we don’t have to do this again if you don’t want to. I-I know things are complicated right now, and I…” He worries his bottom lip between his teeth. “I want to do this again, for… for what it’s worth. But I get it. If you don’t, that is. For—for any reason.”

“I do,” Jon says, surprising himself with his conviction. “I-I don’t… you’re right. Things are… complicated.” That’s certainly a word for it. “But I… I trust you, Martin. O-Or… I want to trust you.” He takes a deep breath. “I am making the decision to trust you.” It’s hard and it’s terrifying and there’s an animal instinct deep within Jon that’s telling him not to expose his vulnerable side, but… somehow, despite all of that, Martin makes him feel… well. Not safe, but as close to safe as he can get right now. Which is an accomplishment in its own right.

Martin exhales slowly and gives Jon a small, hesitant smile. “Thank you. I-I know that’s difficult, and I…” Martin squeezes Jon’s hand, just once. “I-I’m happy.”

And Jon finds that he means it when he says softly, “I’m happy too.”

Martin gets on his train, and Jon gets on his. And despite the ever-present itching beneath his skin and the persistent belief that something isn’t right and the knowledge that he is likely a hunted man, from the moment he lets go of Martin’s hand to the moment he closes his eyes and curls onto his side in bed, that happiness remains.

[mashiraostail]

Hi! Can I please get some Gang Orca, Aizawa, Vlad King and Present Mic when their S/O knows they've been having a rough week and they surprise their mans with lingerie and an evening of... *ahem* Stress relief? Also some pampering and snuggles!

o my gosh i love this song this is kinda on the longer side i have diverged into the world of p o rn 

ns fw under the cut (i think it’s pretty gender neutral lmk tho!)

Kugo Sakamata/Gang Orca: Kugo tended to wear his emotions on his sleeve in private with you, stress was no different. He was clearly stretched out beyond his normal limits, and by the looks of it, he still had a ways further to go. He always got a little short with you when his work became tedious, not in a mean way just in a curt way. One word answers to your questions became favorable and for better or worse he mostly just liked to be left alone. He apologized after things were sorted he knows you’re only worried and trying to check in with him but when things pile up he gets overwhelmed even by your simple questions.  You could feel the irritation appearing on Monday night, and it only piled as the week progressed, by the end of it the poor man was about to spill over with his annoyance. You were working quietly across the room from him, much less stressful and more leisurely assignments that didn’t make your heart leap out of your throat, you watch him tap his pen around on his desk, prattling the black plastic as he sat on the phone, after a moment he just hung up and sighed, that was the fourth interaction like that within the hour. You watched him forlornly, you wished there was some way for you to help relieve the tension in his shoulders, something you could say or do that would put him at ease rather than overwhelm him further. As you pondered it you realized that maybe there was something. You stand up suddenly, and the unexpected motion leads Kugo to turn and look at you expectantly.  “I’m going to get ready for bed I think.” You sigh, “I’m pretty exhausted so it’s probably best to call it an early night.” It was at least worth a try, even if he’d say no, “you look tired too.” You press a kiss just below his eye, “why don’t you join me?”  He shakes his head, “In a little while. I’ll be quiet.”  “I wasn’t worried about that.” You squeeze his shoulders, “don’t work too hard, okay Kugo?” He just hums back at you as you leave.  You were sort of worried you’d lost it, you’d boughten it a while ago but got too nervous to even put it on by yourself let alone in front of someone else. It wasn’t that you thought he wouldn’t like it, you were pretty sure Kugo could find a way to compliment you if you were wearing a trash bag, it just felt...strange. Embarrassing maybe. You couldn’t pin the word but it made you flutter nervously.  When you do manage to dig it up you contemplate it for a second. You decide the nervousness will be worthwhile if it helps relieve Kugo even a little bit.  You wonder how to go about it, should you just walk across the hall and bust in his office? That feels sort of curt. You look around for a moment before an idea percolates.  “Kugo!” You call out to him, trying to keep an indifferent tone, “can you come here a second? I need a hand!” You hear him sigh, and you’re half expecting him to call back that the step ladder is in the kitchen. But you sit on the edge of your bed in wait, trying to look less nervous and more appealing.  “What’s the matter? I’m very-” Blue, dark navy blue and barely there. He really wasn’t expecting this. He could practically see all of you, sitting on the edge of the mattress, legs crossed, thin satiny straps hardly holding the frail garment together, he’s sure just one tug from his finger would send it fluttering to the ground. He feels sort of bad for letting so much annoyance bubble up in him when you called for him. But now something else was bubbling up. It was like you’d packaged yourself up for him.. well he supposed you quite literally did. “Are you busy?” You can feel his gaze latch onto you, his eyes taking you in, up and down rapidly over and over again.  “No..not...very..”

 It really doesn’t take much coaxing to get him undressed and into bed. After a while of kissing him while his hands roam around the sheer blue lace that just scarcely covered you, you lower yourself to your knees in front of him. You’d been together for a while, and you were never one to hold out on him, he isn’t sure why he’s on cloud nine right now, it’s not like he’d never gotten this sort of thing from you before, your hands, mouth, and a lot more than that were always there. If he wanted you all he had to do was ask. But something about you doing this for him, because he was stressed...the way you did all this just to relieve him? It was too sweet, combined with the sight of you in that perfect outfit on your knees for him and the feeling of your lips and hands playing with his already hard cock was more than enough to wash the tension away. It cleared his head of anything but you.  Big hands pull your mouth off his length, the drool and precum around your lower lip, paired with the redness washed over your face and the obscene plumpness in your lips that the stretch of his cock left behind would have been enough to make him beg if you felt any need to withhold from him. Lucky for him you did not.  “Kugo-” You let him spread your legs, tread careful fingers between them pressing in one, then another while he holds you up in his lap, leaning you against his chest for leverage.  “What a sweet thing you are...” His chest rumbles with it, “did you go to this trouble all to make me feel better?”  His fingers knew their way around too well, his other hand splayed on your chest, careful to simply push or slide underneath the lace rather than remove it, palms and fingertips occasionally brushing over your nipple, all you can do is keen and nod.  “You did?” His hand on your chest pushes you closer, “that makes me so happy my love.”  “Kugo-” You call for him again and he hums as you clutch his wrist, the one between your legs.  “I’m right here. Hm... What would I do without you?” He murmurs it close to your ear, it sends a full-body shudder down your frame, “you always take such good care of me, and I was being cold to you wasn’t I?”  “No,” you shake your head, your whole face is burning, a mixture of arousal and embarrassment at the exposure, “you weren’t-”  “But I was.” He sighs, “and now I’m sorry, how can I make it up to you?”  “Kugo- I just want you,” you gasp, fingers tightening around his arm, “please Kugo,” his fingers leave you at that, the loss makes your whole abdomen stutter.  “Turn around and face me.” You follow his order with shaking thighs.  “Aren’t you lovely?” His tongue slides over your chest as two big hands curl around the small of your back. “Can you do it?”  His question falls on deaf ears, you’re already lining him up and starting to take him in, the groan that rumbles out of him only spurs you on until you’ve worked yourself up to hysterics bouncing in his lap, his low grunted praises pushing you closer to the proverbial edge by the second.  You’re a nice view, Kugo’s surprised he’s lasted so long with it. He watches the flush extend down your chest, his hand occasionally treks down the small of your back to your hips, then down still to feel the stretch of you around his length, until he's just about there, then he’s guiding all your movements, pushing and lifting you with ease, an almost bruising grip gets you to roll your hips against his. You’re sheathed totally in his lap when you both finish.  He enjoys watching your chest heave as you come down from it, then you fall against him. “You really do look lovely.” He wraps his arms around you, keeping you in place.  “You think so?” You shuffle up his chest, “well I’m glad. I don’t know why I was nervous..”  “Nervous?” His tongue glides along your neck, “about how you looked?” “Maybe, I don’t know. I thought maybe you wouldn’t like it, I...I guess I don’t know what I thought to be honest.”  “Whatever you want to give to me I’d be delighted to have.” He nips your earlobe and you sigh, coiling a leg around him as he continues, “even when I get a little short with you, you’re always what I want. I’m a pushover when it comes to you.” He concedes, and then you remember.  “Sorry to pull you away from all your work. I just wanted to help...”  “No need to be sorry, you did help..” He’s rubbing long, tender strokes up your back, “and anyways it was an emergency.” 

Shouta Aizawa: Stress wasn’t foreign to the erasure hero, though stress that came from being behind on work presented a certain dilemma. He dealt with stress by sleeping, but in this case...well sleeping would only make it worse. So he got even less sleep than normal. He was irritable at best and downright rude at worst. He’d apologize later, he always did, but at the moment all he wanted was to be left along to plug away at all the responsibilities he’d neglected until now. You felt bad, you wished there was more you could do to help him out, but as it were all you could really do is be there if he wanted to lean his weight on your arm or complain about his day, normally you’d offer a nap with him but that seemed like the last thing he’d want.  You’d already left him to get ready for bed, you’d showered and were rummaging around for some pajamas when you find it, you don’t think you’d even worn it before. You wouldn’t say you and Shouta didn’t have a lot of sex, you had a decent amount, but normally fancy lingerie was left to fantasy, it looked fragile and not at all like something that would hold up against Shouta’s semi-destructive bedroom tendencies, you wonder why you bought it in the first place. Though you realize that it may be useful right about now, especially if he was in a being taken care of mood over a, doing the caring mood.  You wonder how long ago you even got it, it still fit fine so it can’t be all that old. You peek out the bedroom door to make sure he’s still sitting, unsuspecting at the table in the kitchen, his back to you.  When it all checked out you made your way over, sliding your arms around his neck.  “Shou.” You rest your cheek against his temple, “it’s so late.”  “I know.” Is his deadpan reply. “Do you need the time?” He points to the bottom right of his screen, a small digital clock displaying the hour. You huff at that, you knew he knows that’s not what you mean. “Come to bed with me.” You rub his chest over the ribbed fabric of his shirt, “please?”  “In a minute.”  “Shouta..please..” You whine at him and duck down to kiss his jaw, he reaches behind himself to hold onto you, he finds your shoulder, by the crook of your neck, expecting to feel the fabric of a t shirt or a tank top strap, but there’s nothing, just skin, he slides his hand over your shoulder, in search of something. His other arm reaches around too, lower, to your legs, thighs, and hips.  “Are you naked?” He asks incredulously. “Maybe,” His hand finds one strap around your thigh as you continue, “or better.” He pulls away and stands, facing you, you’re still bent over resting on the back of his chair.  “You-” His eyes latch onto the purple, royal purple, dark, and figure-hugging, leaving nothing to his imagination, purple that he wanted to pull away with his teeth, leaving marks on your skin behind in its place.  “Where’d you get that-”  “Why’s it matter?” You laugh, pulling him closer by his shoulder, “want a matching set?”  “Shut up.” He wraps his arms around you despite his words.  “Ready to call it a night now?” Your own arms come around his neck and he sighs.  “You’re such a brat.”  “You were the one being mean, if you work like this too much I’ll worry you don’t love me anymore, you know?”  The trek from the kitchen to your bedroom is mostly lost in your memory.  You aren’t entirely sure why you considered the possibility that Shouta would want to lay back and let you take care of him, as soon as he touched you back in the kitchen you realized all he’d really want to do was blow off steam. But you were fine with that too. 

That in mind...he can be utterly cruel when it suits him. 

“Are you still worried I don’t love you anymore?” His voice is low and gruff beside your ear, his lips and stubble scraping down your jaw to your neck. If you’d had plans to get on your knees for him he nixed them before you could even get started in favor of getting you where he had you now, back to his chest three fingers inside you at a grueling pace, pushing and curling and rubbing until your eyes were watering and you were arching against him, trying to get enough leverage to close yourself off.  “Keep your legs open.” His other hand is at your collar bone, keeping you pressed against him, “come on, or I’ll tie you up how I want you.” You grip his arm at that you can feel him grin into your skin.  “You’re gonna rip it-” You turn into him, chest stuttering, he hadn’t gone to the trouble of removing the lingerie, just pushing and twisting it out of the way of his hands.  “I’ll buy you a new set if I do.” He’s teeth close around your neck, “don’t worry about it. Don’t worry about anything.”  You dig your nails into his arm unsure of what number orgasm this was, honestly after 2 you felt like they just melded together anyways, it’s not like he let up nearly long enough to let you recover.  “Are your eyes watering?” He mutters it into your jaw, “aren’t you cute? Is it too much?” You’re just shaking your head, keening and arching into his touch, chest heaving with helpless breaths.  “No?” His voice is thick with faux sympathy, “are you gonna cry? It hurts a little to be so close, doesn’t it? Can’t take it? You’re right there aren’t you? Why can’t you cum?” He doesn’t mind the scratching, and it’s a good thing, cause if he did..he’d be an unhappy man after this all let up.  “You didn’t say-” You barely get the breath in your lungs to push the words out.  He’s grinning though, it’s the answer he wanted, exactly how he wanted it, breathless and needy. “You want me to say you can?” His other hand rubs your stomach comfortingly, a stark and unfair contrast to the pace of his second hand. “Is that what you want? Will you cry if I don’t?”  “I’ll cry if you do too-”  “I’m willing to test that, come on. Cum now.” It happens like clockwork, with Shouta it always was. Stuttering thighs, your stomach taking in shaky uneven breaths. Once your peak is there and gone both hands are softer, slower, rubbing long strokes against your sex then your stomach and chest.  “That was good.” He’s murmuring it into the soft skin behind your ear, “that was so good. You’re so sweet.” His hand’s rubbing small circles over your belly, his thumb brushing over your navel. “Is that all you can do tonight?” “No,” You shake your head vehemently, “no I want you too-” He hums affectionately into your skin at that. “You are sweet tonight.” He squeezes you a little, it’s a blink and you’ll miss it moment, but you feel it. “Okay then, if this is what you want then I won’t feel bad. Lay on your chest.”

Sekijiro Kan/Vlad King: Despite how he looked Kan really wasn’t very brutish at all. But when he got like this sometimes his own strength evaded him. It made his emotions obvious, when he got too stressed even a fountain pen was liable to snap in his fist. He’d worked through all the wooden pencils in your apartment, they’d been halved and discarded in rapid succession, he was currently working through all the mechanical pencils. You hoped this all got sorted before the fountain pens, that was a mess you’d rather avoid. He was usually good at dealing with stress, long runs, combat trainings, things in that vein were usually enough to relive him of a bad couple of days. But if the discontent extended past that normally he liked talking with you, when he was stressed, upset or exhausted he liked having you hauled up in his lap, squeezing him, combing your fingers through his hair and babying him into perking up a bit. But when it got past even that stage was when you had to worry about fountain pens.  He’d brush you off, just a grunt or nod as a reply as he slunk back into his seat. You tired your signature knuckle kisses to get him to warm up to you, but all you’d gotten out of him was a huff of breath. He didn’t pull his hand away from you though, until his phone started to ring, and by the time he finished his conversation and hung up he didn’t look keen on offering it to you again.  “Sek.” You slide your hand into the crook of his elbow and he nods.  “You should come to bed. It’s late and you don’t feel good.”  “I feel fine.” He shakes your hold on his arm, “you go ahead. It is late, there’s no need for you to be up now.” Normally he’d kiss your head with a phrase like that, but all he did was break the pencil in his right hand. You sigh, “alright. Well wake me up if anything okay? If I can help at all I want to.”  “I know. Thanks.” You kiss his temple as you stand up, “Don’t be too late.” He just nods at that and you close the door behind you as you leave.  It’s there in your closet front and center when you open it up. You were planning on using it for his birthday...but now..well maybe it’d be enough to rescue him yet? You only got it a few days ago, you hadn’t even tried it on yet. You look between it and your reflection before settling on an idea.  You stand before the closed door, separating you and Sekijiro, you’re just a little nervous, if he brushed you off dressed like this you’d be sort of crushed, but he got such tunnel vision sometimes it was a possibility in your head. But you were almost 100% there now, so there wasn’t any use in turning back. “Sekijirio.” You open the door and try to seem less anxious. “Mhm?” He doesn’t turn to look at you. You approach him without responding. “Sekijiro.” You say it harder this time and he nods more obviously, still spinning a barely together pencil in his fingers.  “Yeah,what’s wrong?” You’re standing beside him and he still doesn’t look at you.  “I though you were going to bed?” He says still without looking at you.  “I was.” You agree.  “So why didn’t you?” “I got lonely.” You put a hand on his shoulder, hoping to get his gaze on you, though you’re ineffective. “I’m really busy.”   “Sekijiro.” You spin his chair.  “Baby what gives, I-” He stops, maybe chokes on something.  “You’re being such a brute.” You take his hands and slide them up your stomach as you drop into his lap. He hears you but all he can think about is red, lacy and showy fabric highlighting the best places, like a guide for all the places his wants to put his hands, the band around your thigh squeezing, making you look even fuller and more supple in his lap. “What happened to my big sweet man Seki?” His mouth feels dry, your holding the sides of his neck, drawing him into a kiss, and clearly encouraging him to just put his hands all over you. It was like he was having some embarrassing high school fantasy, like someone dug around his brain and picked out his most perfect fantasy and laid it out like a trap for him. “I say that..but it’s so sexy when you get all worked up..” His stomach swarms at that as your eyes cast to the abandoned pile of broken writing utensils. You’re practically whining into his lips, “ and I know I shouldn’t distract you, you said you were busy, I’m sorry I’m so needy-”  “I’m not busy at all.” He barely lets you finish, “this is nothing. Don’t be sorry. I can do it tomorrow.” He was sure his class would understand if he..waited an extra day or two to return the exams..  “Just keep working.” Your hands are sliding into his shirt, “I’ll take care of you.”

He could not keep working. It was unfair of you to hold him to that standard, when you were so good at this, when you looked so good on your knees between his legs, taking him to the back of your throat, when your hands felt like that braced on his thighs. No sane person could keep working. Not when your hair was begging to have his hands in it, or when you clearly needed to be guided up and down his length by the nape of your neck.  He only had two hands. And when your’s started wandering, up his abdomen, around to his waist, begging him to toss his shirt somewhere else..the work can wait, for your sake. He doesn’t mean to pull so hard, but the moan that flutters past your lips when he does indicates it may not be the worst mistake he’s ever made. He pulls you off his length and you let him go with a pop, a thin strand of something obscene connected your lips to the head of his cock, the sight of it alone was enough to make him buck his hips up into nothing.  “Let’s just go to bed.” He’s guiding you to stand, “I’m done here. Let’s just go bed.” He can’t tell if the ditzy stumble and blown out pupils are just part of the act or if blowing him really does shut your brain off a little. “if you want-” Your voice jumps as he swipes you up via the back of your thighs, once your settle though you take the short walk to your bedroom as an opportunity to get your lips on him again, his shoulders, his chest, just around the neckline of his hero costume, if it even tore a little one stood the chance of sticking out. He loses his pants on the way. He just tosses you on the bed once you’re close enough, before you can protest or complain he’s kissing you quiet, then trailing his mouth down your neck and shoulders, to your chest and stomach and legs, kissing and biting and fingering, enjoying the feeling of your fingers twirling and tugging his hair, and the way you’re spreading your legs to allow him closer. He enjoys it until he’s hooking your legs over his shoulders and lining himself up, your hands brace his hips as he presses forward.  If anyone asked him this was the best of both worlds, he got the physical work out plus he got you cooing in his ear? He wasn’t really sure what he was stressed about in the first place.  “Fuck-” You’re gasping it out, pressing his face into your neck, “you’re amazing-” Even subtle praise makes his stomach jump, and you’re just babbling it out thoughtlessly at this point, he doesn’t blame himself for not lasting much longer after you start.  His weight drops onto your chest after you finish and you heave, “jeeze Sek-”  “Sorry.” He presses his face into your shoulder, “sorry.” But he doesn’t move. The way you wrap your arms around his back say you don’t want him to.  “That was really good.” He’s still huffing into your skin and you hum, dragging a hand up his back.  “I’ll help you grade that stuff tomorrow.” You twirl the hairs at the base of his neck around your fingertips. He groans thankfully. “I’m sorry I was being mean.” He rolls over and traps you against his chest, “you’re the best.” 

Hizashi Yamada/ Present Mic Hyperactive was an understatement, manic was an intense downplay of the current state of your boyfriend. And he was doing everything but the things that needed to get done.  “Hizashi-”  “I can't now I need to do-” (insert thing that doesn’t need to be done at all).  He had plenty of reports to fill out, from what you heard it was a busy week for patrols in the area, plus his usual grading and any work for the show.  But instead of doing that he was reorganizing a record shelf.  “Hizashi I-”  “You don’t understand how badly I need to organize these alphabetically by title.” He doesn’t let you get a word in.  “Clearly I don’t at all. Can I help at all?” You sit on the ground behind him.  “No I don’t think so.”  “Alright.” You concede, “I’m gonna call it a night.” You sigh, “call if you need me.”  “Aye aye.” He’s scrutinizing two records as you leave him.  You just needed to get him to focus on something, then he’d be fine. But what could you get him to focus on...something starts to bubble up, it might just work too..if you could get his feet on the ground  in anyway at all you were sure it’d stick.  It doesn’t take you long to find the box, you’d bought it for a special occasion, though with Hizashi you normally didn’t get much in the ways of planning and preparation, when valentines, your birthday, his birthday, an anniversary etc.. rolled around he was jumping your bones the moment you rolled over in the morning. You don’t think he’s ever even seen this one on you.  You don’t take long to get changed, you’re inspecting yourself in the mirror when your bedroom door opens.  “Babe I know you said you were going to bed but I hope you aren’t asleep because while I was cleaning out that box that I use to prop up some vinyl sleeves I found these hilarious pictures from high school of you and Nem-” He drops the pictures.  “Oh.” You turn to him, “well I wanted to give you a surprise.”  “You did-” He chokes it out, red flush creeping down his neck, “why are you wearing that-”  “Because.” You go over to him and take his wrists, pulling him further into your bedroom, he just stumbles along with your pull. “You need to calm down Zashi baby.”  “This does not make me feel calm-” It’s strangled, if he got any redder you were sure you’d see steam coming out of his ears.  “You need to get all your energy out.” You press him down until he’s sitting on the edge of your bed. You roll your hips against him, and drag your lips down his jaw, one hand braced on his shoulder and the other against his chest, but you can still feel his attention waining.  “Zashi.” You drop all your weight into his lap and it pulls his eyes from your dresser back to you.  “Focus on me.” You guide his hands up your waist and all the fluster that had been lost as his thoughts wandered away from you returned. You realize the better thing to do is stand up and let him have things his way. “You can look or touch however you want.” You pull his hands down your hips.  “So just blow off all that extra steam okay? Whatever you want, just tell me.”  He looks mildly like he’s about to pass out.  His hands go where you expect, your hips, around to cup your ass and his lips flutter around your stomach and waist. You elect to just sigh good naturedly and curl your fingers in his hair to keep him with you. “Can you turn around?”  “Hizashi.” You frown, “don’t be distasteful.”  “You said whatever I wanted-” You suppose you cant argue that so you turn around and try not to let out an embarrassing squeak or squeal when 100% of his attention is directed at your ass, one arm circling around you to hold you in place.  Various articles of clothing are lost or rearranged to accommodate the touching and kissing. He manages to pull you into bed with him, still keeping your legs on either side of his head as he lays down. His arms wrap around your thighs  fingers and palms running slow strokes over your sex as his teeth scrape the surrounding skin, tongue fluttering against your hole occasionally. You press against his chest for leverage and he encourages you to rock your hips against him. You eventually go for his cock, as he starts to work you up too much, getting you too close. You thumb at the head before leaning down and taking him past your lips. He seems contented with that for a while until he’s laying you out on your chest, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pushing into you. He doesn’t stay pressed to you for too long before he’s pulling back to watch your whole body react to him.  It held his attention exceedingly well.  “Zashi fuck-” To say that the way you reached back and fumbled for his hand where it held the bend of your hips heightened the experience would be an understatement.  “Fuck you’re really sexy-” He presses his fingers into your skin harder, “god you’re so fucking hot,” he groans watching your back shift to accommodate the way your hand searches for some purchase. Instead though he’s pushing it away and using his grip on you to turn you to your back, he pulls your legs around his waist and you follow his pull with no protest.  “Fucking god,” He grunts, bottoming out as if he hadn’t pulled out in the first place, “shit, look at you.”  “Zashi-” Your chest flutters with it, he can feel it under his hands.  “Say my name like that again.” He mutters it, maybe more to himself, he’s unhooking one of your legs from his waist and aligning it over his shoulder.  He seriously had way too much energy, you could barely keep up you felt so dizzy.  “Zashi!” You keen at the deeper angle and he groans. “God you sound almost as good as you look.” He presses his forehead into your shoulder, “I’m gonna fucking cum babe-”  The way you were gripping him like you’d float away if you didn’t was already more than enough for him, but the way you’re nodding, eyes squeezed shut as you gasp it out at him, “me too!” If that didn’t do the trick then nothing would.  He’s against your chest, heaving. “Feel better?” You ask pulling a long strand of hair between your fingers. He hums and presses his face into your neck.  “Yeah I do..”  “It’s still pretty early.” You curl your arms around his back and drag your fingers over the shifting muscles below. He nods at that and takes a deep breath of you. “So..” You prompt him. “I could help you work out what you need to get done tomorrow?”  “We could go again?” You speak in unison.  “Again!?” You flush, “Zash you have way too much energy!” 

Bonus Aizawa ending hehe: “Are you sure you’re okay?” He’s looking at you where you lay below him the next morning, he’d reached over you to click off his alarm when he caught sight of you, he’d really done a number on you. Red in all the places he’d grabbed or smacked, shapeless hickeys outlining where the lingerie had been the night before, the map on your skin the only thing left of the garment as far as you were concerned.  “I’m fine.” You wave, “I’ve gotta get up soon though, I’ll be late.” You pin some of his stray hairs back, “what really matters is how are you feeling? Did I help at all? I was worried I’d only make it worse-”  “I feel much better.” He leans down to bridge the gap between your lips, “I shouldn’t get so stand offish. I’m sorry. I hope you don’t really think I don’t love you.”  “Of course I don’t.” You laugh, sitting up, “I’m glad you feel better now. It’s okay to need space Shouta.” You squeeze his face in your hands, “I love you and I know that you love me. I’m always here for you, even when you need space okay?” He hears your words and appreciates them, but his attention is taken by the state of your thighs, which was 1000x worse than that of your chest and stomach. “Are you sure I didn’t do too much? You can be honest with me. I know I was in a really bad mood.” He asks pushing the blanket to reveal more reddend skin.  “Positive. Now you should get a few more z’s Shou.” You stretch out, “I’ve got a meeting.”  As soon as your feet hit the floor your legs protest the weight of your body with everything they have. “Are you sure you’re sure?” Shouta can see your hickey covered thighs trembling as you walk around the bed to your closet, the way you hold the door knob like a life line makes it obvious. The backs of your thighs are still stained red and tensed taught to carry your weight. “Yeah I just...need to stretch is all..” “Uh-huh. Stretch.” Shouta’s just laughing at you. 

[my-pink-yandere]

❤Obsession❤

Prompt: Yandere Bakugou, Midoriya, and Todoroki (separately) has a crush on Y/N...who is actually obsessed over a fictional character.

C/N: Character Name

Warnings: Yandere Tendencies, Swearing, Also this is sorta long cause I wrote a lot ;-; 

💥Katsuki Bakugou💥

❥ This boy is angered when he finds out about this

❥ Like wow he’s super pissed

❥ If you’re unfortunate enough to ever have a Yandere Bakugou take a liking to you, when he realizes that you’re obsessing over someone who isn't him, a fictional character nonetheless, he’s... well...

❥ “Very upset” would be an understatement

❥ He sees that as basically losing to a person who doesn’t even exist

❥ The chaos begins when he’s in the middle of his daily routine of admiring staring at you from afar, and when you stand up with one of your friends and begin walking out of the cafeteria, he hears a few... interesting statements escape your mouth as you pass him by

❥ “I can’t believe you actually like them, Y/N! You’re totally hopeless when it comes to love, huh?” His head was tilted your way, seeing your friend looking disappointed and you looking flustered. “It’s not my fault they're so perfect!” you answered, practically radiating embarrassment. He smirked, assuming you were talking about him. I mean, who else would you get so worked u about>

❥ “Besides, I’m not the only one who simps for C/N! So shh-”

❥ ...

❥ All that’s going through Bakugou’s head right now is why that name wasn't his

❥ He’s gone eerily still, and all of his friends sort of stop and look at him

❥ “Bakubro? You good-”

❥ Bakusquad is going to have to hold Katsuki back from blowing up the entire cafeteria

❥ This b*tch only sees red rn

❥ ‘WHO’S THE PERSON YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT AND WHERE CAN I FIND THEM SO I CAN BREAK THEIR F*CKING KNEECAPS’

❥ he got murder on his mind :0

❥ Despite how angered Bakugou is, he’s not a complete dumbass, believe it or not

❥ He’s not going to confront you about it, at least not right now.

❥ Once he calms tf down, he’ll come to his senses and have his top priority being to get rid the competition first, meaning he has to hunt down whoever C/N is and delete them from existence

❥ When he learns that C/N is actually a fictional character from some anime tbh he just feels extra insulted

❥ You chose a f*cking fictional character over him >:(

❥ It’s now where he begins to get even angrier when he realizes how easy it should’ve been for him to notice sooner. All the stickers on your school supplies, the pins on your bags, how you’d sometimes sneak in their merchandise to show off to your friends at lunch

❥ It was when he overheard you possibly owning a body pillow where he went feral

❥ Will go out of his way to steal your shit and burn all of your merchandise of C/N, or anything that would remind you of the character

❥ He’d catch you when you were alone, and would shove you off your feet as he’d grab your bag and roughly go through it, angrily tearing off the stickers on your notebooks and pins off your bag as your crying and screaming at him to stop

❥ At this point he doesn’t care about how you feel about this at all. It’s never even crossed his mind (blind rage)

❥ His plan is to pluck C/N out of your life, replacing all your thoughts of them with just him, so you’re only thinking of him

❥ It doesn't matter to him if they're good thoughts or bad thoughts

❥ All that matters is that you’re thinking of him

❥ Only him.

In a nutshell, he’s gonna steal all of your items that have any reference to C/N and get rid of it all. He doesn't care how much he’s hurting you by doing this, he’ll concern himself with your feelings later. He’s going to hang around you more despite your protests for him to just leave you alone, quite literally forcing his way into your life so that he infests himself into your brain and become the only thing you think about, so that you can truly understand how he feels about you.

💚Izuku Midoriya💚

❥ Bold of you to assume he doesn't already know about this “obsession” of yours

❥ This child takes notes on EVERYTHING and ANYTHING related to you, so he obviously knew about your love for this certain fictional character

❥ At first glance, he believes your obsession with C/N is similar to him with All Might- just an innocent but deep admiration for them

❥ He’ll buy you their merchandise and gift it to you at school (accompanied by some flowers and sweet little cards of course ❤)

❥ He was nervous to do this at first, his crush on you rendering him a stuttering, blushing mess whenever you so much as glanced his way, but he pushed through his anxiety just to see your cute smile and feel your warm hug when he gives you those gifts

❥ He cherishes those moments more than anything, to see you so happy

❥ (Especially because  it was him to make you so excited! Not Kirishima or Uraraka... him)

❥ He’ll binge the entire show as fast as he can and memorize everything he deems as important just so he can chat with you about it at school

❥ “Isn’t C/N so cool?” he asked you, and you had quickly turned to him with a surprised and then starry gaze. “Izuku, you like them too?!”

❥ You were both on a first name basis now ;D (You even gave him a little nickname: ‘Zuku. Let’s just say he was a bit more than ecstatic when you began referring to him in such an informal way. You must really like him! ❤)

❥ And Midoriya, being the delusional little yandere he is, sees this as you both basically dating

❥ You both hang out everyday at school, discussing the show and characters, who your favorites were, how the plot was going, etc.

❥ You see him as one of your closest friends now, and eventually you trust him enough to bring him to your house to chill without your family home ;0

❥ The thing was, Midoriya noticed how you would never invite anyone from school to your house, always brushing it off and just saying how your parents would get angry or how dirty your room was

❥ This was the first time you’d ever invited anyone from U.A. over to your house

❥ His thoughts were running wild as you both walked home together: ‘What’s Y/N’s house like? Will their parents be home? Why have they avoided anyone coming over until now? Have they only invited me because we’re dating? Are... are we going to kiss?????’

❥ (For clarification, even with the dorms in place, over the weekend you like to hang out at home where you’re more comfortable)

❥ “We can re-watch some of the episodes for awhile. I think I also have some snacks...” you grinned, and he memorized every detail of your house as you both made your way to your room

❥ He was greeted with a room filled entirely with C/N merchandise, but caught his attention the quickest was your bed

❥ You had a body pillow of C/N

❥ Now Midoriya, like I said before, is a very delusional yandere

❥ He has excuses for literally everything you do. You love him just as much as he loves you after all!

❥ But this

❥ This he cannot ignore

❥ He was just staring at the pillow with a blank face as his eye twitched

❥ “’Zuku? What's wrong?”

❥ “Hmm?” he hummed, turning towards you. “Oh, nothing! It’s just, um, your pillow...”

❥ You felt your face catch on fire as you moved to block his view as you tried to quickly shove it under your bed. “UHM, HAHA SORRY ‘BOUT THAT I FORGOT IT WAS THERE-”

❥ Midoriya was quiet as he watched you struggle at hiding the pillow

❥ He was thinking

❥ He loved All Might a lot, but he’d never buy a body pillow of him

❥ What type of love did you have for C/N?

❥ “Hey Y/N?” You turned to look at him, but the moment your eyes met you felt a shiver run down your back. Izuku was smiling at you, but his whole vibe was different...

❥ ‘Was he angry?’

❥ “Why don’t we watch a different series today?”

In a nutshell, he’d go along with your character obsession up until you cross the line, and that would be either him finding out about you reading fan fiction of C/N, a body pillow of them, or some... questionable fan art you have of them saved on your phone. Then he’d do anything in his power to distance you from that show, hiding your merchandise and distracting you with more hero-related hobbies, like geeking over pro heroes or training. Just please stop simping over C/N. You’re making the smol boi jealous of a fictional character :( Why can’t you just pay attention to him a bit more?

❄️Shoto Todoroki🔥

❥ Tbh he doesn't really acknowledge your love for this certain character for awhile

❥ All he focuses on is that you look really happy and cute when you talk about this show

❥ That’s all that really matters to him 😊

❥ Similar to Izuku, he’ll buy you all of their merchandise just to see you all adorable and excited

❥ And Todoroki is a rich boi so that’s a plus

❥ Will probably buy u all the expensive merchandise and you’ll just be 🥺️💞💞💞

❥ The only reason he never really gets angry is because he doesn't understand what's so terrible about your little obsession with the show/character

❥ He just sees it as a little hobby of yours that you’re really passionate about

❥ Despite his cold demeanor, Shoto is always trying his best to support anything you do

❥ While he can get very intense as a yandere, we gotta remember this is Shoto we’re talking about

❥ He probably has no clue what simping even is

❥ He only gets bothered when you own a body pillow or compliment C/N looks too much (he doesn’t appreciate you getting so worked up over someone who isn’t him... even though you both aren’t technically dating)

❥ But he wont flip out like Midoriya or Bakugou

❥ If you both are on the couch at the dorms and you're just going on and on about C/N he’d prob just like-

❥ Reach over and grab your hand and just state how cute you are

❥ He’s a bit of an idiot when it comes to flirting, but he notices that whenever he touches you in an affectionate way you sort of freeze up and forget what you're talking about for a few seconds

❥ Because of how supportive Shoto’s been you sorta developed feelings as well 

❥ Cause I mean who wouldn't ;)

❥ He becomes your close supportive weeb friend :D (even if he doesn’t completely understand what a weeb is...) 

❥ But Todoroki doesn't like that title that much

❥ But he’ll take it slow because he loves you and wants you to love him back :)

❥ “I like it when you smile like that, Y/N.”

In a nutshell, Yandere Todoroki is prob the calmest of the three. He doesn't understand how simping works and the idea of you passionately loving a fictional character more than him has never crossed his mind. But he uses your love of the show to get closer to you. Closer and closer and closer-

Until maybe he can just be the one to make you smile, and not just that character from the show :)

[kiraakirana]

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩'𝙨 𝙚𝙮𝙚 | h. kakashi

─────────────────────♡──────────────────────

Tonight, a firework display will be held to celebrate Lady Tsunade's inauguration as the 5th Hokage. After going through vulnerable and unstable days after Orochimaru's attack and the 3rd Hokage's death, the villagers of Konoha finally come together to witness a new beginning under a new leader. A new light finally emerged from the brim of sadness, once again giving everyone hope towards a bright future for Konoha.

It was the talk of the village for the past few days, everybody was deciding what kimono to wear and who to invite. As you would be working late that night, you agreed to meet up with your friends at the firework display after you're done with everything.

You could hear the distant laughter and cheeriness while you were walking towards the venue. You smiled to yourself, happy that the depressing days after the attack is over and that the villagers are back on their feet. You had a purple kimono on with your hair down and a white flower clipping as an accessory. You were quite in a rush, so you didn't really put that much thought into it.

After talking with your friends for a while, you felt uncomfortable being a 5th wheel as it turned out that they each brought partners. Excusing yourself, you searched through the crowd for a certain shinobi with a distinct white hair. You weren't sure if he attended or not as he's not that much of a people person. But you were relieved when you saw him near one of the food stands with none other than Guy-sensei.

"Hi," you said as you gently tapped his shoulder. He was wearing a blue kimono with his mask, as always, still on.

"Hey," he replied as he put down his Icha-Icha tactics. "Eh? didn't see you earlier."

"Yeah, I just arrived a few minutes ago, had to work late for an impor- shit," you said abruptly. Panicking, you hastily went behind Kakashi's back to hide yourself when you saw the two guys who asked you out yesterday.

"What happened?"

"I'll explain to you later, help me hide please," you said quietly. Seeing how pathetic your hiding strategy is, Kakashi pushed you softly into an empty alley nearby and positioned himself dangerously close to you. He put his right hand on the wall next to you as an attempt to hide your face from whoever you were trying to hide from. Although it was considerably effective, it wasn't good for your heart, afraid Kakashi could hear its loud beating. Leaning close he said, "This way people wouldn't even try to approach."

You could only nod, looking down to gather your thoughts as you felt your cheeks heating up. Damn this copy ninja! Does he realize the things he could do to you? You have the hots for him and has been desperately trying to keep it oblivious, but right now, you weren't sure if you could keep your feelings in check from how close you two were.

"Well, if this isn't convenient," you muttered under your breath. Not wanting to waste this chance by looking away, you looked up to see Kakashi giving you a smile. "Well, if you don't tell me who you're hiding from, we would stay like this until tomorrow morning," he added, "Not that I have any problems with that."

Embarrassed, you pushed Kakashi and stomped away, "They're gone already." You then looked back at him who looked nonchalant about the entire thing, much like his usual self, walking behind you. To you, it seemed like he was acting indifferent, but you failed to notice that Kakashi was a nervous wreck. Even when his fingertips would brush your skin subtly, it would send shivers down his body. He was giving it his all to hold himself back and not get caught up in the moment.

How could he not? You were a famous kunoichi known for your intelligence and beauty. Despite being younger than him by a few years, he admired your maturity and tendency to remain cool-headed at all times. It's not rare that he overhears his comrades complimenting you. You were a truly skilled and hardworking shinobi who earned everybody's respect.

"Thanks," you said quickly.

"Couldn't hear you," he teased.

"I hate you," you replied while turning away. Kakashi was your senior in ANBU and because of your great chemistry and teamwork, you two were often sent together on missions, therefore explaining your close relationship. He was always there to give you advice and comfort you whenever you felt homesick during long missions.

It wasn't until Kakashi was discharged from ANBU that you felt his great impact on your life. You were in denial for quite some time, until you came to the conclusion that the reason you were constantly worrying and missing him was not because you were simply his friend, no. It was a feeling much stronger than that.

"Is this the thank you I get for saving you?"

You swiftly grabbed his hand and took him to the rooftop across the one where Guy and his team were sitting. This was the best place to see the fireworks and it also meant less chance to encounter the two guys you saw before.

"I saw the two guys that asked me out, they also asked me to go to the firework display with them."

"And you rejected them?"

"Yeah, I said I couldn't go tonight," she shrugged, "I mean, I'd rather go with someone else."

"Then why aren't you with this guy right now?"

That question caught you off guard. "Well, he's definitely here right now," you said awkwardly, "But I wasn't brave enough to ask him to go with me. Besides, I wasn't sure if watching firework is his thing," you said, letting out a laugh. Knowing him, you were sure he'd rather stay at home to read his books. You made a mental note to thank Guy for dragging him here.

"Oh."

"You're not going to press me further about who that person is?"

"No," he shrugged.

"You’re no fun," you said jokingly, although it was an attempt to persuade him to ask you more questions. 

He laughed and said, "Okay then, who's the lucky guy?"

"Well there's no fun in it if you directly ask me who he is, you have to guess."

"Then, what's this person like?"

"Um, let me think," you said as you carefully thought about him, "He may seem very nonchalant at first, but deep down he's someone who cares a lot for his comrades."

"Hm, that wouldn't narrow the options by a lot. How does he look like?"

"He has a distinct hair, tall..."

"Why do you like him?"

"I feel safest around him. He's a truly wonderful person, I wish I had the guts to tell him that. I feel like he doubts himself a lot. He needs to know that a lot of people are grateful for him, including me. I've never liked anyone else the same way I like him."

"As your senior, I say you should just straight-up tell him about how you feel,” he gave you a smile and a thumbs-up to encourage you. 

“Ah, so she has a special someone. I mean, it’s no surprise right? Someone like her couldn’t possibly be single forever. I guess I was too late, huh?” thought Kakashi. 

"Well, I don't know if he feels the same way..." you said, shifting awkwardly in your seat. 

"But there's no telling unless you tell him right?"

"Yeah, I guess...”

To hell with pride.

"I like you, Kakashi."

"Wait, I mean you should tell him that, not me."

"Huh? This whole time I was talking about you, damn it."

"Uh? So you?" he looked at you, surprised. You didn't know what made him so surprised though, wasn't that obvious hints? Who else has distinct hair in Konoha? Okay, aside from Guy and a few other people... Yeah, maybe you should've just said 'white hair' but it would be like giving it away.

"Yeah, whatever you're trying to say. If you're going to reject me, at least wait until the firework's over so you don't ruin it."

It was silent for a while and all you wanted to do was throw yourself to the river. Just kidding. You should've stayed home. But then again, there's no better time than right now. It’s either now or never. You had to get the weight off your chest and you’ve prepared for the worst possible outcome for years. "You know what, I'm sorry. I know it's ridiculous for me to like you when you have so many other-"

"I like you too, Y/N."

"Girls fawning over-" you froze for a moment and looked at him in disbelief, "Wait, did you just?"

"Come," he said as he stood up and gave her his hand, "I know a place where you can see the fireworks much better." It was one of your favorite Kakashi smiles, the one where you couldn't see his eyes. Despite not being able to see the rest of his face, this was enough to put the butterflies in her stomach.

It was a place near the river, far from the busy crowd. The water moves calmly and the fireworks could be seen clearly. "You know, I was serious when I said those things. I really see you as a wonderful person."

"Yeah, I know. I'm a very lucky guy."

"But don't get too full of yourself," you said jokingly, landing a weak punch on his arm.

You looked at Kakashi, who was laughing wholeheartedly, in awe. This was truly a sight to remember. Feeling entirely grateful, you gave him a shy hug, hiding your face on his kimono. Y/N who was usually a confident, collected person, became a mess whenever he's around. Only he’s able to do that. 

Kakashi ran his fingers through your hair soothingly and rested his head on top of yours. Despite the loud cracks of the fireworks, you could subtly hear Kakashi's soft voice saying, "Thank you, Y/N."

-

A/N: this is inspired after seeing Kakashi on episode 306 of Shippuden called ‘The Heart’s Eye’. It was so cute seeing Kakashi in a kimono, I just want to give him the biggest hug:(

[blu-joons]

DATING DAY6 HEADCANON A⇴Z ⇴ Kim Wonpil

A ⇴ AFFECTION

He’s very much a clingy kind of boyfriend, he loves to be able to hold you in any way that he can, as tightly as he can. He enjoys the company and definitely feels safe in the knowledge that you’re around him through affection.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING

You’d noticed Wonpil coming into your workplace quite often before you ended up talking to each other for the first time. He quickly began to pay you a lot of compliments, something you noticed he didn’t do with any of the others. You were always appreciative, but they often left you wondering what was going on.

C ⇴ CONFESSION

Eventually your questions were answered when Wonpil asked you if you wanted to go to dinner one night. Each compliment he gave you was another rung on the ladder in building up his confidence to eventually confess to you that he liked you. When he admitted that he was worried that his compliments might end up scaring you away, you were quick to reassure him that they’d done the complete opposite, and instead made you like him more.

D ⇴ DATES

Your dates were when Wonpil wanted to try and impress you the most. You’d heard a lot about how he was learning to cook, so he’d often invite you round for dinner and show off any new recipes he’d made. Aside from cooking, he loved to go out adventuring with you, walks were one of his favourite things to do with you, he found great inspiration from just being able to walk around hand in hand with you, appreciating the sounds and the sights of the outdoors, usually coming up with a few lyrics when you returned home.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE

Being with you was the first experience of a relationship that Wonpil had had, and it gave his confidence the world of good. The group, the fans, and even the company were quick to pick up on how much he’d changed since he started dating you, all of it being for the good. He had a sparkle in his eye, being with you almost gave him a purpose to perform for. When he knew you were watching he’d try his absolute best and make sure that the cameras were watching him more than any other member on the stage.

F ⇴ FIGHTING

The two of you didn’t fight a lot with each other, both of you were quite calm and relaxed people to begin with that it would take a lot to tip you over the edge. If the two of you did argue, Wonpil would be very apologetic, and very clingy. He’d do anything for you for a considerable amount of time and hug you incredibly tight. Arguments terrified him that he could risk losing you or that you’d stop speaking to him, so he tried hard to put them to bed as quickly as they started. If you needed space after an argument, there was no way that Wonpil would give it to you, he wanted to be right by your side to solve things.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY

He was really keen to introduce you to his family, especially his mum. She loved asking him about you and checking in on how you were, so when he finally suggested that you meet, Wonpil couldn’t even finish his sentence before his mother accepted and encouraged the two of you to visit as quickly as you possibly could.

H ⇴ HOME

It didn’t take long into your relationship before Wonpil began to think about finding your own place. He always felt like he needed to shy away from you whenever the boys were around, but if the two of you had your own place, he knew he could be around you as much as he wanted without having to be conscious of others around him.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

Wonpil was the first of the two of you to say, ‘I love you.’ He was convinced you were asleep when he glanced across at you, so when your eyes opened in shock, you definitely gave him quite a fright. Whilst he tried to brush it aside as nothing, you knew exactly what you heard and refused to speak until you heard him say it again.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

He did have a bit of a tendency to get jealous if there was some distance between you both. He was cautious of those around you and would do anything to keep you safe, if a guy was nearby or approaching you, he’d definitely step in before they even had the chance to say hello. You loved how protective Wonpil was of you, whilst he might not be the tallest in stature, that didn’t stop him from standing his ground as your boyfriend and making sure that he was the only one that you’d pay attention to.

K ⇴ KIDS

Starting a family still felt like it was a little way off for Wonpil just yet, but it was something that he definitely saw in his future. He loved to stay up with you late at night and talk about how you both saw your futures going. Once he started talking, it was often difficult for you to get him to stop, but you loved hearing the passion and enthusiasm in his voice when it came to considering a family of your own one day.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER

He loved to make you laugh, Wonpil didn’t care how much he embarrassed himself. To most people, he was probably quite shy, but in the comfort of your own home, when only you were watching, he didn’t care what he looked like. He’d often leave you in hysterics for all the random things he did. The most common thing he did was pull a funny face, if he caught your glance at the right moment, he’d stick his tongue out at you to make you blush and quickly look away, covering your mouth to try and hide your giggle.

M ⇴ MISSING

Being on the road was incredibly hard for him, especially during the points of the day when you’d usually be around. Performing and rehearsing were easy for him but waking up and falling asleep in an empty bed were two of the biggest challenges he faced. He lacked motivation a lot of the time when he’d wake up without you there and would often lie awake for hours when you weren’t beside him to sleep. As you weren’t there for him to stick besides, he’d often stick beside his members a little bit more. To begin with, they’d be confused why he was around them so much, but as time went on, they soon realised that it was Wonpil’s coping mechanism, so of course, they happily rallied around him as best they could.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES

He loved hearing you call him by a cute nickname, it didn’t matter what it was, it would always make him shy and blush when you did. You tended to call him ‘bub’ more than anything else as it would always make him smile.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

Wonpil was obsessed with your personality, he loved having someone to talk to, someone who matched him for all of his quirks, who could be just as crazy as he was.

P ⇴ PDA

Most of the time, he’s glued to your side, but in public he’s a little more reserved. There will still be no distance between you both, but rather than both arms being wrapped around you, it will usually just tend to be one. He won’t be able to stop himself from kissing you though whenever there is a chance to do so.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

He always wants your opinion on the things the two of you do together, he wants to make sure that you’re happy with him and enjoying whatever he has planned. If you say no, he’ll put an end to things immediately and do something else.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

All of the fans are aware of the tattoo that Wonpil has on his ring finger, but what the fans aren’t aware of is the tattoo he has on his waist in tribute to you. His finger tattoo is there to remind him to live and to breathe in the chaos, and with that, his tattoo for you on his waist is to always remind him to love you and cherish the secure feeling of when your arms are wrapped around his waist and covering his tattoo.

S ⇴ SEX

He likes to try and be the dominant one, but when he gets shy, he naturally becomes a bit of a sub. He always feels bad whenever you dominate him, he feels like it’s his position to be the dominant one and do all of the work. His hands love to explore your body a lot during intimacy, the compliments he’s filled you with since the moment the two of you met will definitely reappear during these times too.

T ⇴ TEXTS

Wonpil will text you a lot with photos when he has a day without you. He likes to make you feel as if you’re there with him, and always wants for you to do the same so he can ask you about your day that night.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE

He’d spent years clinging to his members and needing their attention, but now it was nice for him to have someone who he loved to do that with. He never wanted to be apart from you, he wanted to be by your side forever.

V ⇴ VACATION

If he had a few days without a schedule, Wonpil would definitely try and sort something out so the two of you could go away together. It didn’t matter where in the world the two of you went, just being able to enjoy a change of scenery and each other’s company was what was most important to the two of you.

W ⇴ WHINING

When he wasn’t able to hold you, he’d definitely groan. He’d sit, or stand, with his arms inviting you over until eventually you caved and gave him a hug.

X ⇴ XXXXX

His lips could often be found pressing against your skin if there was ever a moment when he would stop talking. You’d sit and listen to him for hours sometimes, eventually you’d have to silence him with a kiss just to remind him to breathe. He used kisses a lot as little reminders that he loved you when he was too exhausted to talk, or just when he wanted to get a little bit closer towards you, if that was even possible.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were his biggest fan, the one that would always be by his side.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

Sleeping beside Wonpil was tough, he loved to lay for hours and talk to you about random things, he’d often still be talking, unaware that you had already fallen asleep beside him, pressing a kiss to your cheek before sleeping himself.

---

Masterlist

[wastelandlovingscenarios]

Yes! Let me throw my hat into the ring; do you have any headcanons on jealousy or possessiveness from our boys to sole? What do you think they're like??

possessive boys? not on my watch. i’m just joking, i’m absolutely for it! <3

please enjoy!

-

Danse:

before the whole blind betrayal thing, danse wouldn’t get as jealous as he did post blind betrayal. this is because he’s aware of the fact that he’s nothing more than a synth and sole deserves better than that.

when danse gets jealous, he’s more intimidating to the eye. he tends to loom over sole as he unconsciously stares the person down with the most irritated expression he has ever given anyone.

he also does this thing where he indirectly threatens the person and uses possessive phrases. “do you have any business with my other half?” or “i’d advise you to not get too close for your own sake.”

danse also gets really, really touchy whenever someone shows interest in sole. he’s usually not one for pda but would definitely not hesitate if someone hit on his other half right in front of him and would passionately kiss sole to show that they’re definitely not available. even if sole laughs at the end at his jealousy, he wouldn’t regret it one bit knowing he did it for a good reason.

Deacon:

deacon gets jealous a lot; more than he’d like to admit. actually, deacon is a wild card when he’s envious. some times, he could be all playful and funny about it and other times, he gets really distant.

the times he gets really playful and funny, he’s often pulling a joke with sole or scaring the shit out of the person flirting with them so they would go away. for example, if he were to joke around with you, he’d confront sole about it later, telling them, “god, the whole time they were talking to you, they looked like they had a stick up their ass.”, and times where he’d scare the shit out of the other person, he’d speak to sole but make his voice loud enough to hear, “remember the last guy i shot in the goods because he wouldn’t stop oggling your fine ass? good times. good times.”

the only time deacon gets really distant is when he sees that the person who’s chatting with you has something he doesn’t have. if they’re insanely attractive, hella funny, and have more honesty than he ever will, then it hits him hard. his insecurities really rise during these moments and he tries to push away the feeling to the back of his mind but literally fails as sole begins to pick up signs.

Maccready:

he’s a fucking baby about it and is the companion who can’t handle the feeling of jealousy. this is where his childish tendencies come in.

it could be as small as a simple compliment and mac would get all fussy and petty about it. yes, soles attractive and yes, they are literally out of this world but it doesn’t mean that anyone has the right to be hitting on them like they’re single when they’re really not.

he’s all whiny about it to sole, throwing hints at them instead of saying what he truly feels, knowing that he has too much pride. much like a child, he’ll throw small tantrums and give attitude whenever something he doesn’t favor happens. he’ll tell them anything, any excuse or reason, but will never admit he’s jealous unless you really push it out of him.

sole would probably have to kiss or reassure him for mac to really cool down and get his head straight. even then, he’d still act the same the next time around but try to keep his cool for soles sake... and for the person who’s flirting with soles sake. he’d literally shoot them between the eyes if he was given permission after all.

Hancock:

hancock gets jealous. he gets that feeling a lot but is one of the companions that are able to handle it better. his reaction is really depending on how serious the situation is.

for example, if it was light, casual flirting, he’d approach the two and sling his arm over sole or kiss their cheek, complimenting sole. “one of a kind, ain’t they? too bad they’re mine.” and literally fucking take pride on their expression as they take off.

now, if it was more aggressive and touchy flirting, you’ve definitely crossed hancock’s line. he’d confront the person himself, pushing their shoulder to create distance between them and sole. he’d kindly ask sole to get them both a drink and kiss their cheek. the minute sole leaves, he’s pressing a blade lightly at the persons torso, sending them a threatening expression as he whispers. “i don’t ever want to see your filthy hands on them, cause if i do..” he presses the blade harder against their skin, “.. i promise you i won’t hesitate next time, capiche?”

it’s easy to say that there was no further trouble from that particular individual anymore.

Nick Valentine:

nick rarely gets jealous and shows little to no signs of it. he shows more signs of discomfort more than jealousy but when he does get that feeling, he tries to reason with himself. he knows sole has good intentions and would never turn their back on him no matter the circumstance.

he trusts sole more than enough for them to make the right decisions and know what to do in such a situation. besides, sole has never given him a reason to not trust them.

he’ll stay silent and watch protectively unless sole shows signs of discomfort and that’s when his boyfriend instincts start kicking in. if the person gets too close for comfort? nick will be as firm as possible, sending the person an annoyed expression. “enough is enough. it’s best we get going now.”

nick would throw the occasional insult or comeback from time to time if the conversation was getting a little out of hand and made him uncomfortable.

Preston:

also doesn’t get jealous too easily, but when he does, oh boy. he gets really mopey and sad about the whole thing.

his mood changes entirely and he can’t even bring himself to smile at the funniest of moments. he’s an over thinker and believes that sole was absolutely enticed by the other persons flirting and will probably disregard him sooner or later.

he’d also grow clingier to them cause what better way to sulk it out than to drown yourself in your lovers affection? he’d reassure sole a lot more that he loves them and he’d do anything to be with them just so they won’t leave.

of course, sole would notice this and let him know that there’s no one else that they love besides preston. it would bring preston great comfort after hearing those words and he’d apologize to them, letting them know he’s sorry for not telling them sooner.

Sturges:

it’s rare, but not impossible, for sturges to get jealous. he’s a really kind and understanding guy, so he brushes most situations off, knowing that sole is trustworthy.

but in some cases, he does tend to get slightly jealous when someone gets a little too close for comfort. talking here and there would be okay for sturges but touching is an entirely different thing. yeah, small contact is fine but if someone is full on slinging their arm around their shoulder, he gets really upset.

sturges is an honest guy meaning he doesn’t like to lie to sole nor does he have the heart to hide anything from them. he will straight up tell sole about what he’s feeling and will let them know that it doesn’t affect his trust for them. after they’ve worked on the issue, he’d simply brush it off and kiss soles cheek as a thank you for listening to his feelings.

Gage:

gage is the angry jealous. he makes it very, very obvious he’s envious and even if he tries to deny the fuck out of it, the signs are literally plastered on his face and actions for everyone to see.

and just because he denies he’s jealous doesn’t mean it will stop him from literally fucking shooting glares at the person and wanting to stab the fuck out of them with his bare hands. gage is very expressive when showing negative emotions and jealousy is just one of the many.

gage is already intimidating as he is, but once someone really pushes him out of his comfort zone, he’s beyond that. he has a more frightening expression, his hands are clutching the gun to the point where he’s shaking and the look in his eye sends the message to the person that he will literally gut them clean once he gets the chance to confront them without sole by his side.

once sole confronts him about it and reassures him that no one else has their heart, he’ll secretly cool down and gruffly tell them some half assed excuse; “i didn’ like the way they were lookin’ at ya.” sure, gage. it totally wasn’t the whole flirting thing that got to you.

[welllpthisishappening]

Where the Love Light Gleams

Killian was going to kill his brother. 

Which wasn’t very festive, but neither was being away from his girlfriend on Christmas Eve and this was all Liam’s fault. Or so he would claim. While rationalizing his current tendency to wallow, and stare at his phone and he’d spent far too much time on his phone that night. 

Whatever, it was Christmas Eve. That was definitely a reasonable excuse. 

---

Rating: Teen, with banter and friendship and kissing Word Count: 5.1 K AN: It’s me! Someone who can’t seem to write an MC to save her present life, but loves few things more than Christmas-type fluff and is therefore filling Christmas-type prompts again. Today’s comes from @shireness-says​​ who is always wonderful about replying to these sort of things and requested: 

"you had a business trip and i missed you so much that i kind of tore up the house in your absence like a dog with separation anxiety… sorry?" and “we’ve become the clingy newlyweds you always complained about. "

Both of which I almost legitimately filled. Just kind of—twisted. As is tradition. If you are so inclined to send a prompt from this very long list, you can pick one here, and I’ll do my best to write it before Christmas. 

This one is also on Ao3 if that’s your jam, where I’ll be posting all of ‘em. 

---

“Are you moping? It kind of looks like you’re moping.”

“Wow, such unparalleled observational skills. You should become a private investigator.”

Sticking her tongue out, Ariel made some sort of objection-type noise in the back of her throat, which probably would have made Killian smile in any other situation. On any other day. A day that wasn’t Christmas Eve. 

When he was absolutely, positively moping. 

It was a miracle he hadn’t frozen like this. That would have done irreparable damage to his spine, he was sure. 

He wasn’t really sitting up very straight. 

“There can’t possibly still be private investigators in the world,” Ariel challenged, brushing a wayward strand of hair away from her face and it was far too windy on the docks. If Killian didn’t get off the docks soon, he was going to scream. 

Or mope for the rest of the holiday season. At least until the New Year. That seemed reasonable, honestly. 

He was going to strangle Liam. 

This was all his fault. 

“You’re kidding me, right? What—what kind of world do you think we’re living in?” Ariel shrugged. “One that’s progressed past the need for private investigators, obviously. And I object to the notion that I would require any sort of PI-type skills to know that you’re being an absolute and complete, although also kind of understandable, idiot.” 

“Those words don’t go together.” “What do people hire private investigators for, anyway?” “Loads of stuff.” “Give me one example.” He huffed, irritation rattling around his skull and mixing in with a begrudging appreciation because he knew Ariel felt bad and maybe he’d kick Liam too. “Missing kids.” “Yeesh, that’s awfully negative.” “What was that about accusing me of moping before? I’m playing to those accusations.” “Ok, but we already decided they were observations, so you don’t get to rename them now that you’re feeling particularly jerk-like.” “I’m here, aren’t I? Makes it seem less jerk-like.”

Another shrug. And a specific quirk of her lips that Killian was far too well-acquainted with. The muscles in his cheeks were almost starting to ache. 

Presumably from holding them in this position for so long. 

He was absolutely moping. 

But he’d already been in Boston two days longer than he planned on, and none of this was really going according to plan. He’d checked his phone no less than forty-seven times in the last forty-five minutes. He hated that. Staring at that screen made him feel like a clingy freak, who couldn’t go more than a few minutes without talking to his girlfriend, and Killian had complained about those people enough times that his current tendency to do it made him despise himself just a bit. 

And yet he couldn’t stop. 

His thumbs flew across the keys, sending complaints and updates and smiling in spite of his own situation. 

Like a psychopath. One who was quite obviously frustrated. 

With several thousand things, it seemed — the most pressing of which was his distinct lack of festive nature, caused almost entirely by the issues with the expansion in Boston and adding another ship in Boston was supposed to be easy. 

Until Eric got the flu, and it was understandably difficult to captain a sightseeing holiday cruise when you couldn’t actually stand up for more than two minutes at a time, and Killian couldn’t say no to his brother when they both had so much money tied up in this, and if Liam was going to fly in to make sure everything stayed the metaphorical course, then the least Killian could do was drive in from New York. 

Or so Liam had told him. In no uncertain terms. 

Except Liam had also brought Belle with him and that somehow seemed like cheating, and Killian should have asked Emma to come. 

She had to work. He’d missed Mary Margaret and David’s Christmas Eve party. 

Which normally wouldn’t have felt like the end of the world, partially because Mary Margaret’s fruitcake was notoriously awful, but this year it made Killian’s heart feel like it was fragmenting in his chest and Emma’s photos had gotten progressively more and more blurry as the night went on. Mary Margaret also notoriously bought a questionable number of Prosecco bottles for the Christmas Eve party. 

“You are,” Ariel agreed, a string of words that caught Killian off guard when he was so deep in his own wallowing. “Which is super nice, but—” “—How can there be a but in this situation?” “There are several, actually, except the biggest one is how three different people on tonight’s cruise wanted to know why the first mate was so obviously distracted.” “They called me first mate?” “People think it’s funny to use nautical terms in real life.”

Slumping forward did not do anything to help the state of Killian’s spine, only managed to make sure his hair fluttered in front of his eyes when a salt-tinged breeze blew off the Harbor and he briefly wondered how dramatic he could get. He needed to exhale some more. 

He needed to go home. “Anyway,” Ariel continued, “they wanted to know why the first mate was on his phone all the time, and if the first mate was available and—” “—I’m sorry, what?”

“You have a face, you know that right?” “Now you’re just saying words.”

If she kept sticking her tongue out at its current rate, it was going to get frost-bitten. “These are compliments, you’re an ass and I owe you just—a metric ton of rum, the good kind, for doing all of this.” “Giving me whiplash,” Killian muttered, but one side of his mouth tugged up despite his best efforts to remain as depressing as possible. Ariel’s eyes got brighter. Rivaled the lights still flickering along the railing of their very nice, very new, decidedly expensive multi-level ship, and it had only taken about fourteen seconds for Killian to make that one photo Emma had sent him his phone background. 

That probably wasn’t weird.

“So, people wanted to know about you,” Ariel said, “and your previously discussed face, and rather than employee a PI because it’s not 1947—” “—Oddly specific.” “I will kill you.” “God bless us, everyone.” “Your very helpful and exceedingly sure of his own obnoxious brand of humor brother was very quick to inform all the interested parties that the first mate was distracted because he unfortunately wasn’t with his wife for Christmas.”

Ariel’s murder threat was not only out of place considering the date, it was pointless because he was going to guarantee he died all on his own. Killian nearly fell off the edge of the dock. 

One of his knees buckled, gaping at his friend and business partner like she’d only recently grown a few extra heads. She didn’t shrug again. Smiled, in her best impression of a variety of fictional and overly confident cats, but her shoulders stayed frustratingly still and that was—

“Emma and I aren’t married,” Killian sputtered, not entirely stunned to find those particular words difficult to say in that order. Half a plan rattled around with the rest of the emotions circling his skull, and he hadn’t really acted on the plan, but he’d been pondering and considering for at least a few weeks before his phone had rung. 

And that was only kind of a lie. 

He’d been doing a lot more than pondering for much longer than a few weeks. Considering had flown out the imaginary window, like—as soon as he and Emma had moved in together. 

Liam didn’t know any of that, though. 

At least in theory. 

Maybe strangling his brother was something of an overreaction. 

He still wanted to go home, though. 

“Liam knows that,” Ariel reasoned, “and I know that. And obviously you know that, but none of your on-water admirers know that, and you were playing your part very well.” “What?” “Glued to your phone, all night. Like a clingy newlywed.” “That’s ridiculous.” “Is it? Because while not technically true—” “—Or true at all,” Killian interrupted, and he wondered if he was getting used to the feel of his heart doing whatever it was doing, or he was just growing more melodramatic by the second. At some point in the last twelve minutes the idea of walking back to New York had become rather appealing. 

“Well, whatever. It was a good excuse, and it’s not like it was one-sided texting and it’s kind of romantic. All things considered.” “What are all the things, exactly?” That shrug came with another smile — far too knowing for Killian’s liking, but he also knew Ariel wouldn’t go back on her rum-buying word, and he supposed there was something to be said for that. Especially if it was good rum. “If you’re going to play the part…” “Look who’s being a romantic now.” “I’ve spent most of the lead-up to Christmas trying to force-feed Pedialyte on my husband. Got to get my romance from somewhere and you’re like—Hallmark Channel ready.” “Probably couldn’t have as much alcohol, then.” “How many bottles of Prosecco do you think Mary Margaret bought this year?”

Tugging his phone out of his pocket, Killian scrolled back through the more than two dozen photos he’d been sent over the course of the night until he found the one he was looking for. Of a table covered in green-hued bottles with plastic champagne flutes that Mary Margaret must have bought in bulk and— 

Ariel’s laugh hung in the air around them, louder than it probably should have been considering the time, but they were also by themselves and he was still kind of moping. So. The world could cope with their collective volume. 

“Do you think she gets a discount for buying so many?” Killian shook his head. “If she doesn’t, she’s being robbed.” “Get the private investigators on the case.” “Challenge Liam to a comedic battle.” “Not if we’re calling it that,” Ariel argued, bumping her shoulder against Killian’s leg. And he wasn’t sure if he was actually smiling, but his lips were moving and his heart didn’t appear to be shattering quite as much anymore and he hoped Emma fell asleep. 

On Mary Margaret and David’s couch. 

They wouldn’t let her go home, he was sure. 

He hadn't gotten a text in awhile. 

He was less sure about the shadows moving towards them, though — because he’d been a little distracted when they docked, but he watched Liam and Belle get into their rental car and there was absolutely no reason for either one of them to be back on the docks, but anyone else showing up on the docks at eleven o’clock at night was probably a sign that Killian and Ariel were about to be robbed. In a far more literal sense than whatever happened with Mary Margaret and her plastic champagne flutes. 

“You guys good?” Ariel asked, sounding more aware of what was going on than she should have been. Killian’s eyes narrowed. 

That made it only slightly difficult to see the overall width of his brother’s answering smile. 

Plus, it was dark out.

“Better,” Liam said, “she's an absolute natural.”

Scrunching her nose, Belle waved off the compliment. “Please, all I have to do is stand there and be helpful.” “Yeah, but that’s more than Killian was able to do today, so…” “He was distracted.” “And standing right here,” Killian muttered, although standing was a little generous. His left knee was still awful bent. In an unnatural sort of way. “Doesn’t that hurt?” Liam asked. Gesturing towards Killian’s posture, he tilted his head and that was even more judgmental than any of the words Ariel hadn’t bothered saying. “Can’t be good for your ACL or whatever.” Belle clicked her tongue. “Adding the whatever makes it sound less official, really.” “And we’re trying to be official,” Ariel chipped in, clamoring to her feet. By using the side of Killian’s jacket for leverage, tugging on fabric until she threatened to tear it and that also would have been impressive if it didn’t feel suspiciously like he was about to pass out. 

She wrapped her arms around Killian’s middle. 

That kind of helped, honestly. 

He’d never admit to it.   

“Official about what, exactly?” Killian asked. “What are you guys doing here?”

Liam’s smile got wider. “We could ask you the same question, but we’ve already claimed way too much of your time and—” “—Wait, what?” “Killian seriously,” Ariel sighed, “if you keep interrupting, we’re never going to get to the fun and passably romantic part of the plan.” “Oh, no it’s definitely more than passably romantic,” Belle argued. 

“Depends on him, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, but he was glued to his phone and I’ve got at least twenty bucks on this happening before New Year’s Eve, so—” “—New Year’s Eve would be really romantic, actually!” “No, no, no,” Liam objected, voice rising on every repeat, “I’ve got Christmas morning, and that means he’s got to go now.” Not having anything to drink made it impossible for Killian to claim intoxication as a reason for the current spin rate of his head. Metaphorically, at least. Even so, he felt a little dizzy and slightly out of breath, trying very hard not to topple into the water. 

There was no way he’d be able to disentangle himself from Ariel before he did that. 

And then she’d get annoyed. 

“What is going on?” Killian demanded, pausing between each word for emphasis. Liam’s lips disappeared. Behind his teeth. 

While he failed spectacularly at containing his laugh. “We’re kicking you out,” Belle said simply, like that made sense and they hadn’t all but required his presence in Boston less than seventy-two hours earlier. 

Killian blinked. Once, twice. Half a dozen times. Nothing changed. Ariel’s arms tightened, maybe — but Liam didn’t move, and Belle’s nose still had that scrunch-like effect, and the lights on their ship really did make it appropriately festive. 

“And apologizing,” Ariel added. “We should make that more obvious.”

Blinking more was stupid. 

Talking probably would have helped. But Killian’s tongue suddenly took up far too much space in his mouth, next to all the imaginary cotton balls that were impeding his ability to breathe and it could not have been healthy for so many body parts to consistently fail like that. 

“This is really my fault,” Liam admitted, taking a step forward to clap Killian on the shoulder. His right knee bent that time. At least his reactions were symmetrical. “And I—well, I...I was so worried about the money and the party and—” “—We didn’t really think about your plans,” Belle finished. Opening his mouth, Killian genuinely could not come up with a word to describe whatever sound he made. Something between a scoff and that huff he was trying to accomplish before, but also drifting dangerously close to laughter borne of disbelief and his back actually had the gall to pop when he leaned forward. 

“I don’t have plans.” “Please,” Ariel scoffed, “you have at least the hope for plans, and that’s nice in a way that deserves a better adjective and all that rum I promise.” Liam’s eyes widened. “How much rum are we talking?” “Enough that you stop spending so much time talking about the proper light to string ratio.” “What does that even mean?” Killian balked. 

Shaking her head, Belle moved into his space as well. Both her hands landed on the front of his jacket, and Killian wasn’t exactly cold per se, but there was something inherently comforting about his sister-in-law’s smile and the way she always smelled a bit like vanilla. 

As if she were just minutes away from baking something, at all times. 

“Telling you to come here was a dick move,” Belle announced, Ariel’s head finding Killian’s shoulder when she started to cackle once more. They were all standing too close to each other. Someone was going to step on someone else’s foot. “And,” she continued, “Liam was right. This is totally his fault, but he’s running on like...no sleep, because we’re—” She grit her teeth, another unfinished sentence that frustrated Killian for about eight and half seconds. Before it all clicked at nine. “No, shit.” “Shit,” Belle confirmed, another smile and her left foot landed on Killian’s right when he pulled into a far-too-tight hug. Ariel had to move her arms. “Babies are expensive you see,” Liam said, “and we’d already funneled so much money into this, the party had to happen and I wasn’t sure if Belle was going to be able to come with me because—” “—They don’t tell you morning sickness lasts all day,” she grumbled. Killian’s laugh had an almost manic edge to it, suddenly happier than he thought he could be and that was more appropriate for the time. Of both the day and season. 

“So,” Liam added, “I kind of lost my mind about Eric, and didn’t think about you or Emma or how stupid you’d be when you weren’t around Emma at Christmas because it’s so goddamn obvious what you’re planning.”

Heat rose in Killian’s cheeks, a questionably large inferno that suddenly flared to life in the pit of his stomach. “I haven’t totally decided.” “Yeah, well that’s dumb.” “Rife with opinions tonight, aren’t you?” “We’re kicking you out,” Belle repeated. “With our apologies that I wasn’t on the ship tonight because that shrimp appetizer smell made me want to die a little.” Ariel sighed. “Do all our statements have to be so violent? There should be more positivity to all of this.” “There will be if Killian can get me my twenty bucks.” “Why are you betting on this?” he asked, but the distinct lack of frustration in his voice was obvious even to him. Belle laughed. “Because calling you a newlywed was not nearly as unbelievable as it should have been, and if you get with the program you could probably have your rehearsal dinner on one of our very accommodating ships with an appetizer that does not include shrimp.” “I’m not really a huge fan of shellfish.” “See, the perfect plan.” An objection sat on the tip of Killian’s tongue — if only because he was decidedly stubborn and now a little worried about his brother’s expanding family, but his own family was not in Boston and he’d really like Emma to be his family. In an official sort of capacity. 

“But what about—” “—No, absolutely not,” Belle cut in before Killian could finish, “that’s what we were doing. Going over the plans for tomorrow’s lunch cruise, and everything you were supposed to do, which I’m pretty confident I can do now, mostly because my husband is here and I won’t be tempted to text him the entire time.” “At least not much,” Liam quipped. The pinch between Killian’s eyebrows was going to stay there forever. If not longer. “And then I’ll also text you, at an appropriate time tomorrow, to apologize for being a massive Christmas bastard.” Hair hit Killian’s cheek. Not his. Distinctly red and smelling like shampoo she’d definitely spent far too much money on, Ariel’s hair blew around her when she threw her head back. With laughter. The catching sort, spreading like wildfire through their tiny group, until Belle had to wrap her arm around her middle to stay up, and Killian’s stomach ached just a bit and it took him a moment to realize he’d made another fire pun. 

In his head. He needed to go home. 

“Was Ariel a distraction?”

She kicked his ankle. “Rude, and yeah obviously. Liam is so goddamn overprotective with his unborn child, it’s disgusting.” “And nice,” Belle grinned. 

Exhaling, Liam tugged on the back of his hair. A tell, and an apology without the words. Killian wanted the words. Even if it took a few extra minutes. “Seriously,” Liam said, “a Christmas bastard, which is not an excuse, but—I’m sorry. For the batard’ness, and bringing you here, and not explaining the reasons behind the bastard. And also for ruining your plans.” “I really have no plans,” Killian promised, but that fell a bit flat and he at least had rather specific wants. Of the desire-type variety. 

“So fix that. Like as soon as possible.” “For my twenty bucks,” Belle said with another yank on Killian’s jacket. The poor jacket was not going to last much longer. 

Ariel rolled her eyes. “She’s obsessed with the twenty bucks.” “Because your husband will have to pay it!” “Should you have bet with an invalid?” Killian asked, trying without much immediate success to take a step away from either one of them. “And what kind of Pedialyte flavor are you forcing?” “The purple kind.” “Blue’s definitely better.” Liam looked frustrated. 

That felt like something of a victory. “Were you going to go, Killian? Or—” Kissing the top of Ariel’s hair and pulling Belle into one more hug, Killian flipped off his brother, muttered Merry Christmas, don’t sink the boat, and would never admit to running back towards his car. Or how quickly he drove home. 

It took at least twenty-six minutes to find a parking spot. 

Four blocks away. 

Still, Killian assumed he was running on holiday-fueled adrenaline and something almost resembling romance and the distinct lack of anything in his pocket was a challenge he viewed as quirky more than anything else. 

He bounded up the steps, nearly dropping his keys more than once before he managed to unlock the door only to be immediately hit in the face. With what felt suspiciously like garland. 

And Killian hadn’t really planned on spending much time in their apartment, only thinking about a few hours of sleep before driving to Mary Margaret and David’s house on the Island because he might have come up with half a list of sweepingly romantic things to do, but he wasn’t a total jerk who would show up on someone else’s doorstep in the middle of the goddamn night, and it obviously did not make a single ounce of difference. 

While he was being strangled with garland. 

Blinking against the darkness of their living room, Killian’s brain couldn’t quite come to terms with what he was seeing. Like the ninth floor of the Herald Square Macy’s had exploded. Tinsel hung from what appeared to be actual ivy, pinned along the top of the wall with startling accuracy. Lights meant to resemble icicles reflected against every window pane, and there was an actual tree in the corner. 

Every one of his inhales had a distinct pine-like scent to it, like he was standing in the middle of a forest, and Killian did not think they owned that many ornaments when he left. 

They hadn’t owned any ornaments, so it was a rather easy number to remember. 

A star was balanced precariously at the top of the tree, paper snowflakes dropping from the ceiling and—

Emma curled in the corner of the couch. 

With at least four blankets covering her. She was a notorious blanket thief. 

Mary Margaret hadn’t woken up either, twisted into the other end of the cushions, and Killian couldn’t fathom how they were comfortable, but he was also admittedly a little distracted by the desire of his lungs to keep providing oxygen to the rest of his body and David’s eyes were alarmingly wide. 

“What are you doing here?” “I live here,” Killian hissed, swatting away the garland. Bits of it fell onto the top of his sneakers. “What are you doing here?” “Helping.” “What?” “Helping,” David said slowly, like Killian simply did not understand the word and not all the meaning behind it. “She—well, the decorations left something to be desired, and you know Mary Margaret. There’s a project, so she’s got to help and—” “—Wait, wait, wait, did Emma do all this?”

Waving both his hands in the air, David didn’t bother to say obviously when the movement made it so abundantly clear. Killian’s jaw dropped. 

Something popped there as well. Which probably wasn’t what woke Emma up, but thinking that was almost nice in another way that deserve a better adjective, and the overall force of her smile as soon as her eyes landed on him made every bit of splintered heart still lingering in his chest knit itself back together. 

Immediately. 

“Should I be concerned that you’re deserting?” she asked, hooking her chin over the back of the couch. As if she’d been expecting this exact situation. Killian shook his head. “Nah, this is a wholly authorized shore leave.” David’s groan very likely hurt the inside of his throat. 

“What happened here, Swan?” Pink immediately colored her expression, every one of her teeth obvious when she grit them. Mary Margaret must have been the soundest sleeper in the Universe. Or she’d had a questionable amount of Prosecco to drink that night. “Christmas?” That was as good a reason as any, honestly. Although that stubborn streak of his ran several nautical miles wide, and nearly tripping over the garland on his few steps towards the couch made Emma’s shoulders shake. 

Killian knelt in front of her.

Step one accomplished, then. 

“It’s super lame,” Emma warned, but Killian’s heart was doing more biologically impossible things and his eyes fluttered when she brushed his hair away from his forehead. “I just—well, you weren’t here, and that kind of ruined any of my festive-type feelings, which as we all know are shaky at best.” “Work in progress, love.” Her tongue sticking between her lips was not as annoying as Ariel’s had been. Killian figured that had something to do with the desire to kiss her. And not Ariel. Who would have smacked him at even the allusion to such a thing. “Well,” Emma mumbled, “the lack of appropriate holiday spirit reared its head like—as soon as you closed the door behind you, but then I went to the party and you kept texting me and—” “—I’m sorry, I was texting you? You were texting me!” “God,” David grumbled, dropping into the only chair left in the living room. There should have been more chairs in the living room. “It’s ridiculous, the pair of you.” Killian narrowed his eyes. Glaring was too difficult. “Why are you here?” “I told you, helping.” “He did,” Emma said. “Both him and Mary Margaret, really. I, ok—well, whoever was texting who, it doesn’t really matter. Just that Ruth thinks we’re married.” Of all the ways that sentence could have ended, Killian was loath to admit hearing that David’s mother believed the same lie Liam had been spouting to Boston tourists was not one of them. 

“She does,” Emma continued, rushing over the words, “for some reason. But she kept saying how nice it was that a young couple like us was able to keep in touch when we weren’t together for the holidays and I was really kind of drunk, and even more upset that you weren’t going to be here, so my mind just kind of latched onto things and—” Pulling in a deep breath made her shoulders shift again, Killian’s eyes taking in every moment so he could commit them all to memory and the question was out of his mouth before he realized Emma was still talking. “Will you marry me?” “Do you want to get married?”

David fell out of the chair. 

Slid, technically. Directly onto the floor and next to presents that were almost perfectly wrapped with color coordinated bows on each of them. 

“What?” Killian breathed, Emma’s hand flying to her mouth. Left one, so that helped too actually. None of his fingers shook when he reached up, pulling that same hand down and kissing the bend of her knuckles. Tears clouded Emma’s eyes, falling on her cheeks faster than he could brush them away. 

With his mouth. Killian tried all the same. 

While ignoring the increasing volume of David’s rather uproarious laugh. He was texting someone. Probably Ariel, who very likely was requiring play-by-play. And had timed Killian’s drive home. 

“That was kind of...this,” Emma explained, nodding towards the living room. “I—I wanted to decorate, and make it Christmas when you got back because...well, I blame the alcohol and your brother and—” “—That’s fair, honestly. Belle’s pregnant, by the way.” “No shit.” “Shit,” Killian confirmed, a repeat he’d share later. Once they got all this engagement business sorted out. “They’re pretty incredible decorations.” “Yeah, well flattery will get you everywhere.” Huffing out a breath, Emma’s head dropped to his, and that made it easier to get his fingers in her hair. “This made a lot of sense when I was drunker. But, uh—I needed to do something with all that energy and sudden holiday thoughts and I’ve got a lot of thoughts about your face, you know that?” Ariel was going to be insufferable. 

Killian would make her buy some Moscato, too. That was Emma’s favorite. “Gave me something to do,” Emma added, “and then I figured you’d get home and there’d be some sweeping and we could do something about Ruth’s assumptions and I think we’d be really good at being married.” Kissing her was the only reasonable option. Even as David sounded like he was in physical pain. 

Surging up, Killian’s mouth all but slammed into Emma’s, tilting his head so he got to that one, perfect angle that allowed his tongue to swipe across her lips and draw that even more perfect sound out of her, and he was only dimly aware of Mary Margaret waking up. The couch creaked when she moved. 

Killian didn’t. 

His fingers carded through Emma’s hair, only breaking apart to appease his lungs and the requirements of his body before kissing her again, and his knees kind of ached. Presumably from supporting most of their collective weight when Emma was kind of draped across him. “Don’t go in the bedroom, ok?” Humming against her only guaranteed David made another noise of protest, but it was nice that they’d helped decorate and Killian could only imagine how they’d gotten all that ivy on the wall. 

“That’s, uh—” Emma leaned back, one of her eyes squeezed closed. “Where we put all the extra non-holiday stuff, and it’s kind of a disaster.”

“Tore up the apartment, like she had separation anxiety,” Mary Margaret slurred, and Killian refused to be held accountable for whatever his face did at that. 

David rolled his whole head. Emma shrugged. He liked that one the best. “So, uh—” “Yeah,” Killian finished, before he could stop himself and any qualms either one of them had once had about clingy relationships or relationship qualifiers appeared to disappear before their eyes. Like frost on the window. Which was seasonally appropriate. “I think we’d be really good at marriage.” “Yeah?” “Yeah. Where’d you get the decorations from, though?” “You’re welcome,” Mary Margaret replied, sounding a bit more coherent and just as exhausted. That was fair. It was close to four in the morning. 

Emma nodded. “Definite separation anxiety. So we should probably not do this again, and then you can help decorate.” “Deal,” Killian promised, and they didn’t bother waiting for an appropriate time to call Liam. Or Ariel, who crowded into the video call because, as she claimed, it was her living room and her twenty bucks and her shriek probably affected the structural integrity of her house. 

The rum showed up two days later. 

And made for a very good toast, as soon Killian slipped the ring onto Emma’s finger. They picked it out together. 

[dimitrescus-bitch]

Baby I’m Jealous (Eva Marie x Reader)

smut

Big events were not your thing. You were a much more lowkey girl. The glitz and glam was nice every once in awhile, but Eva had went over the top with this one. You loved seeing her dressed up, but it wasn’t exactly easy to sit in a chair and let strangers touch your face. Eva knew the makeup people, they’d done her makeup several times before. When you went out to wrestle, your face was covered in makeup for your gimmick, but that was different than this makeup. 

“You look uncomfortable,” Eva said with a small pout. You shrugged and she placed her hand on the small of your back. “40 more minutes or so and then I’ll take you out of here. Poor baby.” 

“Thank you,” you said as she led you towards a circle of people. You were introduced to the main roster Divas that you hadn’t already met. There was some tension between Eva and the Bellas, but you tried really hard to ignore that. Eva hadn’t really done anything whenever Nikki decided to not like her, which had upset Eva quite a bit, even if she hadn’t let anybody know that. 

“I think this is the first time I’ve seen you out of sweatpants or that gear,” Natalya said as she hugged you tightly. You hugged her back and glanced over at Eva, who was watching you pretty closely. Despite her efforts, Eva’s jealous streak had a tendency of showing itself around certain people. It didn’t help that Eva was under the impression that you had a crush on Natalya, which you swore that you didn’t. 

“I had to dress her up to show her off,” Eva cut in. You felt her hand move into yours and you squeezed it to reassure her. “We’ll call it a practice run before the ceremony.” 

“I’m not doing this for the wedding, it was hell babe,” you told her. “I’ll do the suit, but it doesn’t even take me this long to put on my ring makeup.” 

“Well, you definitely look hot. Next time Maxim comes looking for Divas, I’ll put word in with Stephanie to send their cameras your way,” Nikki leaned in to say. Eva tugged you back a bit and then wrapped her arm around you. Nikki hadn’t gotten that close, but you had noticed her hand extending to touch you. That had most likely been why Eva moved you back.

“You know, I’m pretty tired babe. Do you think we can get out of here? It’ll take me awhile to get your makeup off,” Eva said and you nodded. “Well, bye ladies.” 

“It was nice meeting you. I’ll see you at the PC next week right Nattie?” You glanced at the Canadian. Every other week, you went to the PC and had a training session with Natalya to either work on your in-ring abilities or your promo work. 

“11 AM sharp,” Natalya reminded you. You gave her one last hug, waved to the other girls, and then Eva was dragging you away from the bunch. The two of you stood outside together waiting for your car to be brought around, which was also when you noticed Brie and Daniel walking out of the event as well. 

“Hey,” Brie said casually. Eva waved over towards her, obviously upset by Nikki trying to flirt with you earlier. You leaned over to kiss Eva’s cheek and walked over to talk to Brie and Daniel. “That was kind of awkward in there. I’m sorry if Nikki made you uncomfortable.” 

“It was fine. She probably didn’t mean any harm by it,” you said as you glanced back at Eva. She didn’t too annoyed with you having left her alone for a minute, but you knew not to be gone for too long. “Eva can just be a bit sensitive sometimes. People like to talk about her and I guess Nikki hasn’t always been the nicest with her.” 

“Hopefully the two of them can move past that. From what Natalya has told us, you’re one of the good ones,” Brie said and you blushed a bit. Their car came around and Brie gave you a quick hug while Daniel opened the door for her. You walked back over to Eva and put your jacket around her shoulders. 

“Such a gentlewoman.” Eva leaned down to give you a quick kiss. You and Eva weren’t too different in height, but that little bit of height she had on you became a lot in heels. It was a couple more minutes before your ride arrived, but you liked standing outside with her. The two of you got a moment alone under the stars to just enjoy each other’s company. 

“Sorry for the wait,” the valet said. Eva took the keys and you went around to open the door for her. She was still bothered by what happened inside with Nikki, which you would fix once the two of you got home. Once the two of you got back, both of you changed into something more comfortable and then Eva started taking your makeup off. 

“Hold still. I don’t wanna poke your eye out,” Eva said as she started to wipe away your eye makeup. 

“Couldn’t I have just showered and washed this away?” you asked and Eva shook her head. 

“There is a reason that we got these wipes baby,” Eva told you as she brought her hand up onto your jaw to hold your head still. Eva leaned in to make sure that she got all of it on one eye before moving to the other. She never did move her face back to where it was, so you could feel her breath on your cheek. Whenever she finished, she noticed that you were staring at her and that your eyes were just slightly darker than usual. 

Eva bit her lip and you leaned forward to kiss her. She moved her arms around your neck as your hands moved down onto her waist. You could feel Eva’s body pressing against yours and you let your hands roam a bit. She started to push you back against the bed until you let yourself fall backwards. Eva sat up on your lap and pulled her shirt off, smirking as you just stared at her body. 

“You don’t give yourself enough credit sometimes,” Eva told you. You tilted your head at her statement and she leaned down to kiss your neck. She was doing a good job of riling you up, but this wasn’t about you. You were going to do this to reassure her that you didn’t want anybody else. If you truly wanted Eva to calm down, that was what you’d have to do. 

The flip was easy enough and instinctively, once Eva was on her back, her hands entangled themselves in your hair. She didn’t push your head down, instead letting you spend as much time kissing her body as you liked. Whenever the two of you had moments like this, it was almost ritualistic. Eva knew what you planned on doing and she’d lay back and enjoy the attention. You were an attentive lover usually, but this took things to another level. 

“Y/n, please,” Eva begged as you reached the waistband of her underwear. She had opted out of wearing shorts or pajama pants to bed, which you were grateful of. If she didn’t semi-regularly sleep without pants, you’d have thought she expected you to use sex to sway her mind away from jealousy. You grabbed onto the fabric with your teeth and tugged it down her legs. 

Eva didn’t immediately spread her legs, letting you push her thighs apart instead. It was a small motion, but it had a large effect on her. You hooked your arms under her legs, propping them over your shoulders a bit. You started with small kitten licks and slowly moved onto to longer and more solid strides with your tongue. Eva’s hands stayed tangled in your hair until she started to tug a little too hard, to which you just squeezed her wrist and she let go of you. 

You contemplated using the fingers on one of your hands, but by the time that you had decided not to, Eva was starting to cum. The noises of her moaning and groaning filled the bedroom. Even when her legs snapped shut, holding your head against her with her thighs covering your ears, you could hear her screaming out your name. 

“What did you mean earlier?” you asked once she had let you go. Eva had picked her shirt up from the corner of the bed and put it back on as you got settled next to her. “When you told me that I don’t give myself enough credit.” 

“You don’t see yourself for what you are. Someone compliments you and you brush it off like it’s this huge exaggeration. You get confused when I get jealous because of how another man or woman looks at you. I wanna keep you to myself because you’re definitely someone that if I didn’t have, I’d try to steal away,” Eva told you as she laced your fingers with hers. “I love you and I can’t help it if I get a little insecure and jealous.” 

“I love you too, which is why you don’t need to ever get jealous,” you promised her. “All I want is you.”

[ariesrondeletia]

Which yandere haikyuu characters do you think would end up kidnapping their s/o?

Art credit:  ながる

Thank you so much for this request! I haven’t made a list before and this was so much fun to do. Because of that I got kind of carried away tho… If you want me to write another school team let me know, I’m more than happy to rant about these haicuties. Sorry, that’s cheesy but I love them.

I think almost every yandere has the potential to kidnap their darling if they’re pushed far enough. There’s a lot of reasons to kidnap a darling ranging from wanting to protect the darling to a desire to keep the darling all to themselves. That said, some yanderes are more likely to kidnap their darling than others. For this list, I’ll just go through Karasuno and rank them from least to most likely. 

Yachi wouldn’t dream of locking her darling up. She’s undeserving of even the slightest glance. She could never bring herself to do anything that could potentially harm her darling. Plus, she doesn’t have a clue about how to kidnap her darling. The furthest she’ll go is sneaking into your room to watch you sleep and maybe grab that old t-shirt in the back of your closet. You can always feel her presence just over your shoulder but she’s good at hiding herself away before she could get caught. Honestly, it’ll take ages for her to gather the courage just to speak to you. And when she does, she can only stumble through a compliment. She’s so adorable that you’ll forgive her stranger habits, even though she leans in to smell your hair from time to time. She won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to and it’s because of that very kindness chances are you’ll become such a cute couple. With her doing her best to make you happy, you find yourself making more and more time for her. Just pray that you never stumble upon her twisted shrine. All in all a 1/10.

Asahi worships his darling and would never risk anything that could potentially make his darling hate him. He desperately wants to ensure the safety of his darling, but the thought of them being angry is too much to bear. He’s far more likely to try to persuade his darling to stay with him. It’ll start with him just suggesting the two of you becoming roommates to cut down on costs. From there he’ll push himself into your life, staying on the sidelines, but always nearby should you through any scrap of attention his way. He’s so needy and clingy, but he’s such a sweet guy. He’ll make you paranoid by subtlely pushing his anxieties off on you until you become just as afraid of the outside world as he is. It takes some convincing, but he’ll do everything he can to make you work from home. You’ll spend most of your time indoors. He’ll beg you to stay here any time you mention the outside world. But if you push wanting to go outside, he won’t stop you. He’ll trail you like a helpless puppy, but he won’t ever stop you from doing something you want to do. He also gets a 1/10.

For the most part, Yamaguchi is in the same vein as Asahi. The main difference is that Yamaguchi’s fears lie less with the outside world and more with you leaving him. He’s not used to being completely independent, it’s something he’s only beginning to learn throughout being on the team. He’s very dependent on you. Whenever you’re around he wants you to make every choice for him. He’ll ask about which shirt looks better on him, what kind of meals he should make, what kind of flowers he should plant, whether or not he should change his hair. He wants you to praise him at every turn. And he’s willing to go to any length to become your ideal man. Because he’s so dependent on you he’ll beg you to stay by his side. He simply can’t live without you and it’s so hard to say no to him. He’s a lot pushier than you’d expect. He’ll cling to you and cry if you try to leave. You can push him away and go despite his protests, but it won’t stop him from stalking you. I’d put him at a 2/10.

Suga seems like such a sweetheart, but he’ll do almost anything to keep his darling safe and happy. He’s already incredibly clever and when you combine that with his intense love for you it results in a very manipulative yandere. He’s not cruel about it, he merely wants to convince you that the two of you are perfect for one another. He adores you and that comes through with every gift he gives, every smile he sends your way, and with every compliment that is just so genuine, it makes your heart soar. What you don’t know is that he’s spent hours watching you in order to ensure that he can give you the perfect gift and know the exact compliment to quell your anxieties. It’s painstaking work but it’s worth it if it means you’ll stay with him. When he asks you out you won’t hesitate. Your relationship is the best you’ve ever had, at least from the perspective you have. Suga’s good at keeping all of his less desirable tendencies out of sight. But now that he knows every need, every insecurity, every desire, and every thought that goes through your head, he’ll have no trouble finding the right words to keep you away from the world. He’s so subtle about it you’ll forget why you even wanted to go outside. There’s nothing for you there, he’s all you need. He gets a 4/10.

Kiyoko believes that she knows what’s best for her darling. She’s spent most of her highschool life subtly mentoring a team of volleyball players. At this point, she’s so used to people looking up to her that she’s shocked to find someone more perfect than she is. Even if no one else can tell, she knows what a catch you are. She’s so sweet as she babies you. She’ll act like an older sister type, always watching over you. She’s there to help you with your homework, so kindly fixing your mistakes. You can come to her for advice anytime you need. It won’t be long before she gets more and more controlling. She’ll pick out your clothes for you and she’ll cook healthy meals for you. It feels like she’s just a loving girlfriend taking care of you, but in reality, she’s making you dependent on her. Soon you’ll be coming to her for every little problem you have, not realizing how helpless you are without her. If you try to leave, you’ll find life to be significantly harder without her. As soon as you face any challenge Kiyoko will appear by your side, showing you how much easier life could be if you’d just let her love you. Matching Suga, she gets a 4/10.

Right in the middle, we have Ennoshita. He’s used to being left in the background to make room for other, more passionate players, which makes it very easy to fly under your radar. He’s always around you, hovering on the outskirts of your gaze until he can build up your trust in him. You’ll get used to him being by your side for a while. And then things will start to get uncomfortable. He’ll hang around you much longer than he should, coming over to your house to study, only to stay despite the fact that the two of you are done studying. He’ll go through your stuff in a casual way, as though everything is totally normal. The comments he makes about your room and the things you own are… off-putting. It’s like he already knows everything about you. He brushes it off as he just knows you well but there’s this one-sided intimacy. He doesn’t do anything, not really. And yet, you feel trapped. He won’t physically kidnap you. He doesn’t say anything cruel. It’s just the atmosphere, though there’s no evidence to suggest otherwise, you know you can’t escape. Dead center, 5/10.

Tanaka is a unique blend of a worshipper and a possessive. He reveres you as a god. He expects you to hate him, most women do, but that won’t phase him in the slightest. He can take your hatred, he’ll relish in anything you give him. He’ll let you curse out his name or kick him to the ground if it’ll bring a cruel smile to your face. But that doesn’t mean he’ll let you do whatever you please. He doesn’t want anyone else to dirty his precious darling, so he’ll keep you separated from anyone that isn’t him. He knows how disgusting people can be and he views it as his life’s mission to protect you from them. Everyone is a potential threat. And you’re just too kind, too forgiving, he has to step up. He can keep you away from those perverts while still basking in your presence. Of course, if you want to it’s easy to escape. Tanaka will inevitably make more than a few mistakes. The only thing is, he’ll work terrifyingly hard to find you. What he lacks in intelligence he makes up with pure determination. When he finds you he’ll take you back to your shared home, carrying you so gently despite how much you thrash and fight and struggle. He’ll apologize as soon as the two of you are home together. Was he not good enough? He’ll be better, spending every free second by your side. He leans to a 6/10.

Noya is insane. There’s really no other way to put it. The most perverse out of all of them, he’s practically drooling at the chance to be by your side. He has such little relationship experience it takes 0.5 seconds for him to be head over heels. He’s also the clingiest one on this list, if you stray from his side for an instant he’s immediately panicking and calling the cops. He’s basically a needy puppy, glued to your hip and begging for attention. He’ll do anything to please you, he’ll learn to cook, show off his volleyball skills, listen to every word you say. He’ll conform himself to being your perfect husband. If you praise him, do it sparingly. If he receives praise too often he’ll become more deluded and push past your limits more and more. You didn’t want him to lock you up? But he’s been such a good boyfriend, you’ll let it slide, won’t you? You said he was a perfect match for you and you can’t go back on your word. Going to the opposite side and being cold makes him more desperate for praise. To finally get you to notice him becomes a goal and he will achieve it, even if he has to chain you to the bed. He gets so jealous it won’t take long for him to be the only person you’ll ever see. 7/10.

Daichi just wants you to be safe. This world can be so cruel and he can’t bear the thought of you getting your heart broken. You’re too sweet to be working so hard, just let him take care of you. All you have to do is sit at home patiently. Don’t talk to your friends, they might seem nice but Dachi knows that they’re all wicked. Trying to lay their hands on you and abuse a gentle soul like yours. He can’t let that happen. He’s the only one you need. The only one you can trust. Everyone else would use you as a stepping stone, but not him. He loves you. You just have to obey and your life is set. The two of you will be married after high school finishes. He’ll go on to college and you’ll be a house spouse. Once he gets a job, you’ll be dependent on him for a steady income, it seems every company you apply to turns you down. Complaints you have about your monetary vulnerability seems to upset your loving boyfriend. Why would you need a job? You have him. Every little thing you don’t like gets shot down by him. No friends, no family, no jobs, no freedom. He’s just trying to protect you, why would you ever want to leave? He sits at an 8/10.

Tsukishima loves the power he has over you. He’s smarter, stronger, more attractive and he’ll spend every second rubbing it in your face. He’ll taunt you, but if you show a negative reaction to his words it’ll make him awkward. If you cry or yell, he’ll be stunned for a second. He feels like it’s right for him to jeer at you, but if you do the same, his love for you will result in him crumbling. He puts on a facade of cruelty because he hates feeling powerless and his love for you is power too strong to be acknowledged. Yell at him, scream, cry, and he’ll snap like a twig. When he’s upset, he’ll isolate you, trying to separate himself from the fact he really does care, but can’t ever show it. He wants control. To feel like he isn’t addicted to the feel of your skin, the taste of your lips, the reflection of himself in your eyes. He’ll kidnap you and is smart enough to get away with it. He’s not kind to you, chains are forever around your ankles and his room becomes your hell. But there are moments of softness, though rare, where he’ll give you a gift or compliment you like he’s trying to gain your affection. Make a comment about it and he’ll have no qualms about abandoning you for a few days. Be unfailingly kind and act as he wants, and maybe he’ll be gentle, but he will never ever let you go. I place him at a 9/10.

If you’re looking for someone completely delusional, Hinata is the one for you. He’ll believe that the two of you are made for each other and no amount of protesting can ever change his mind. He’s basically a lost cause as soon as he meets you. You’ll engulf his every thought, the same fixation he had on volleyball now focused on you. You’ll have almost no free time once the two of you start ‘dating’ but you’ll have no problems with it because you clearly love him as much as he loves you. And perfect couples should live together, of course. The two of you are so happy together, he can’t stop talking about how great you are. It’s such a lovely mask that he can’t ever look past it to see how you really feel. He’ll do anything to keep his idyllic vision. If you tell him you hate him, he’ll say that he just hasn’t been giving you enough love and will increase his clinginess tenfold. If you try to run away, he’ll say that you needed a breath of fresh air. The two of you can go on a walk together, as long as you’re handcuffed to him. Sometimes you need to be tied to the bed because your ridiculous temper tantrum is getting in the way of hugging you. For better or worse, the two of you will be together forever. 10/10.

Kageyama is one of the few people that can match Hinata’s obsessiveness. He’s been attached to volleyball all his life so it basically gave him whiplash when he met you. It was a cheesy love at first sight situation, but Kageyama never knew how to love. His love is unfortunately vicious. His love letters are scribbled and unintentionally threatening. His gifts are strange and sometimes bloody. His touch is rough. He’s trying so hard, but can’t seem to find the words to tell you how much he loves you. It doesn’t take him long to get jealous, the more afraid you are the more you run to somebody who isn’t him. He unlearns all the lessons his team has painstakingly taught him and suddenly he can’t get along with others. He’s practically hissing at anyone who comes near you. A glare from him cuts through bone. Your friends will stop being your friends when he pays a visit. He’s always been good at volleyball, great even, but he can’t do a damn thing to earn your heart. So he just takes it. Regardless of how you feel, he’ll have you trapped in someplace secluded where he can practice being a better boyfriend. He loves you and you should love him too. Even if it takes time, he’s sure you’ll come around. He’s the only one you’ve got after all. Another 10/10.

[mildly-incoherent-ramblings]

A Breakup And A Party (Writing Prompt)

Friendships at the punk house were always strained to some extent. When you have a bunch of dysfunctional people with fucked up backgrounds all crammed in a space together living in squalor, conflict is inevitable, and as normal as taking a shit once a day. There was a party, and bands were set up in the living room. Alcohol was brought and supplied in surplus by the many attendees, to the point where there were just unopened fifths of booze laying around you could pick up and take a swig of and no one would fuck with you. There wouldn't be any running out that night. This was pre-covid times, so people didn’t care about sharing drinks or being close. Taking a swig meant having the courage to down a good 2% backwash-to-alcohol content from about 20 or so other people as well as the gunk left on the lip of the bottle from the last guy, but these kids had more important things to worry about. 

The space was crammed, poorly vented, disgusting. Everyone loved it. Bands played for about 15 minutes at a time with a few people out front watching for cops who would rotate between sets. On a busy street like that one, noise complaints were not common, so there was truthfully little to be worried about. In the backyard, two girls were making out passionately on a half busted wooden bench, trying to avoid getting splinters in their asses, and a dbeat kid studded head to toe keeled over the side of the back fence to vomit, a romantic backdrop for their little moment. A circle of stoner kids that had no affiliation with punk but kind of just showed up wherever the drugs were sat and passed around a suspiciously funny smelling joint, remarking on how they didn't know about all this “heavy shit” but liked the general vibe. 

Nearby, Henry, double fisting two bottles of store-brand ripoff Jack belched as he attempted to utter the question “So when is our set?” only realizing after that he was, in fact, talking to a fence. He stumbled up the dangerously busted stairs and swung open the back door violently proclaiming that he was ready to party as if he hadn't already been for the last several hours. Henry was sauced constantly, to the point where a lot of his intoxicated tendencies were just seen as part of his natural demeanor. You generally could not tell when he was drunk or not because he was always drunk. 

In the back room several kids piled on a stinky old leather couch just barely supporting their weight, ready to bust. In the middle of them was one kid in a thrasher vest trying to brush his long hair out of the way with his elbow as he attempted to cut several lines of coke on a busted DVD copy of Videodrome. The kid next to him sneezed, and the powder flew like a sad little cloud, and instantly he was shoved from the couch and told to leave, booted out by the other couch kids with great aggression and narrowly escaping an ass kicking through the kitchen door. Thankfully they were all already way too wasted to get up, so when he left the room, it was as though he had not existed. They licked their fingers and wiped the coke residue from the DVD and dabbed it on their tongues fiendishly hoping to get every last little bit. A crusty kid knelt on the floor and tried to sweep up what was left and snorted it, with all the grime and debris it had mixed with. Realistically, he had consumed worse before. His friends laughed.

The last band had finished their set and Henry had set aside his two bottle friends to plug in his amp when Nelson walked in wondering loudly where the fuck their drummer was. Stink wasn’t even a punk kid, he was a DJ and fucked with the electronic scene, who just so happened to really like drumming on the side. Speaking personally as the narrator removed from this situation, I would argue that his insistence in being there while also taking no interest in the music or community whatsoever was the most punk thing anyone present was doing. 

But, where was he? 

As Nelson hurried to set up the mics and get things in order, Hackney arrived with his bass set up, ready to play within seconds. He always had his shit together. His eyes were red from the 100g edible he had just eaten (the thc content in legally sold edibles was not as heavily regulated at that time so these things were easy to access in the city.) Yet somehow he was clear and present, and immediately irritated that even though they were supposed to start their set right now, their drummer was not even present, and the other two members were wasted beyond belief, even for them. 

Just up the stairs however, a frustrated Stink and his girlfriend Melody were amidst a heated quarrel over several unresolved relationship issues that really could have been discussed at another time. But, as alcohol has a tendency to inhibit judgement and heighten a certain sense of impulse, one or the other, it was unclear who, thought it to be the best time to try to have a discussion. Not just thought so, they felt it had to happen NOW, or their fun time for the night would be ruined with no chance of salvation. 

Stink was not exactly emotionally present, or competent, and communicated poorly. He was also a notorious cheater, an aspect Melody would frequently be in denial of in despite of his repeated offenses, sometimes in full view of her and her friends. He truthfully was not the type to be able to have a girlfriend, but was also unfortunately passive to a fault, and could not stand to end a relationship with someone as lovely and admittedly clingily as Melody. She adored him maybe a bit too much, and had this hope that she could change him somehow. 

 A side-note, from your very gay little narrator here: Please, women of the world, understand. You cannot change your dirtbag boyfriend. Leave Him, Honey. You will be so glad you did. I promise you that. You deserve better. You really do. 

They were fully engaged in an aggressive back-and-forth complete with insults and counter-accusations fit for an episode of Jerry Springer. Melody was clutching a broken red solo cup in her left fist she had crushed in frustration, the remaining beer inside it dripping on the wooden floor. Stink was guzzling a pint of Ancient Age between cruel remarks. After a particularly sour comment, that red solo cup collided with his crooked face, and he returned fire with the nearly empty bottle of Ancient Age. Just then, Henry came storming into the room, grabbed Stink by the collar and dragged him out, leaving Melody to sit and sob on the bed for a little while before composing herself and venturing down the stairs to fix her makeup. Not a single person in this situation even once considered that this was not their room to begin with. The gentleman who lived there would soon come home to discover that his space was briefly a theater for domestic violence in his absence, a discovery that enraged him to say the least. 

Having dragged him down the steps the way a fed up mother would drag a misbehaving child by the ear, Henry shoved Stink behind his drum kit which some well-to-do hipsters took upon themselves to set up for him so the time wasted would not eat into their experimental shoegaze/normcore set, scheduled for immediately after. Seemingly not phased by the last hour or so of nonsense, the band immediately started to go through their setlist. In all fairness, they had a reputation for some level of inconsistency, so when they missed their own cues or played in a tempo different from what was intended for the song no one really noticed it. The whole time, Melody stood amidst the crowd of crust punks, dbeat kids and preppy art school kids, glaring at Stink from behind his drum kit. He however seemed indifferent to the whole situation, and avoided looking her direction for the entire set. 

They would not speak for the rest of the night, he sequestering himself off with his bandmates who went to have a smoke out front and then wandered down the street to the bodega for even more booze they definitely did not need; her nestling herself in the comfort of a small group of queer and trans kids who in despite of being welcomed by this “progressive” community felt as isolated and excluded as ever. They fixed her eyeliner and complimented her outfit while giving her some much needed space to vent, and the rest of the night she spent enjoying the company of her new friends. She would not speak to him again for weeks. Conversely, he would act as though none of it happened and wondered with emotive confusion to his friends why she was upset in despite of her having told him very clearly why. The relationship eventually ended, but not before several attempts at resurrection much to the distaste of their friends on either side who could see what neither was able to; that the combination of the two together was like mixing bleach and ammonia. A very bad idea. 

Upon their return, Henry stayed behind outside, lit another Marlboro, and looked up at the sky. The fog loomed over the distant hills. The occasional car on the nearby overpass zoomed by. He found a moment of peace there. He was the eye of the storm, the settling of the dust before it would be kicked up again. On the horizon, the faintest hint of the morning light began to glow over the city, and the night finally ended. 

Semi-Fictional. The people existed, only some of this actually happened.

[mavericksy]

Uraraka and Love Languages

HOW URARAKA SHOWS THAT SHE CARES

MOST PREFERRED METHOD: ACTS OF SERVICE Uraraka is hyper-aware of people giving each other gifts, especially couples. She also realises that she doesn’t have the money to spend on buying gifts, so she tries to make up for it by doing them favours instead. She’ll jump at the chance to do any random task for her friends, no matter how small. At this point offering to help people is second nature, rather than something she goes out of her way to do, and she often seems surprised when people mention how helpful she is. She used to do a lot of chores around the home to help her parents, since they often came home from work exhausted, and still had to sort out paperwork. Her parents also have a seamless routine when it comes to helping each other out, and seem to know exactly what their partner needs without being asked- they’ve been great role models for their daughter. 

LEAST PREFERRED METHOD: GIFT GIVING Outside hero work, nothing stresses Uraraka out more than being expected to give someone a gift, since she rarely has the money to spare. Because she’s self-conscious about giving people cheaply bought gifts, she tries to make her own in the hopes that the homemade aspect will show the person she cares. Her usual method is to buy dollar store cake mix, since it gives her the opportunity to eat any misshaped treats, but even this can put a dent in her financial planning. Because she’s so self-conscious of the expectation to give gifts, she might go out of her way to buy the person she loves something cheap when the opportunity presents itself, but she never feels great about it. 

OTHER METHODS: AFFIRMATION Uraraka always has time to give people a compliment. People are charmed by how enthusiastic and sincere she seems.  PHYSICAL TOUCH She likes being close to people, and really values friendships where she doesn’t have to be shy about hugging them. Whenever somebody is really upset, her immediate response is to offer hugs. She has a habit of glomming onto the people she’s most comfortable around.  QUALITY TIME Uraraka likes spending time with others, but her schedule is often quite busy. She’s very careful to only suggest or agree to activities where she won’t be expected to spend money, so it’s not unusual for her to offer to study with someone every night, but turn down an offer to go to an amusement park. She also rarely invites others around to her room, since it’s very barren. 

HOW OTHERS CAN SHOW URARAKA THAT THEY CARE

MOST EFFECTIVE METHODS: PHYSICAL TOUCH Uraraka is self-conscious about her financial situation, but hugs are free, and don’t leave her worrying about the difference between your savings and hers. She’s easily flustered by any kind of close contact from the people she might have a crush on, but quickly settles into it once she’s in a relationship, and will seek it out regularly. She can be a little distant when something happens that upsets her, but she’ll be desperate for a reassuring cuddle once she lets down her guard. 

AFFIRMATION Compliments are also free! Uraraka has a tendency to brush compliments off at first, but with a little repetition, they stick over time. A simple kind word is often the difference between her feeling like she can or can’t do something, and she takes everything you say to heart. While she has a tendency to doubt herself, she values other people’s opinions much more highly than her own, so it’s useful for her to have a bank of kind words she can draw on to make her feel better. She loves it when her partner tells her ‘I love you’, and gets antsy when they haven’t said it to her in a while. A combination of ‘I love you’ and a hug will keep her smiling for the rest of the day. 

LEAST EFFECTIVE METHOD: GIFT GIVING Uraraka is obsessed with the idea that she has to reciprocate gifts from other people, but money is the last thing you want her to be worrying about when you try to show her affection. It’s best to leave gifts for events where it’s already socially acceptable to give them, such as her birthday or Christmas. If you are going to buy her something, it’s best to act extremely casual- like you were buying clothes for yourself already and happened to find a t-shirt she’d look adorable in. Sometimes she does see through the ruse, but she’ll accept the gift without saying anything. Gifts that don’t last- like food or ‘experiences’- make her twitchy since there’s no physical reminder that that person cares for her. A lot of her ‘nice’ belongings are gifts from other people, so she’s often a little sad that there’s nothing to add to her collection, even if she hates herself for feeling that way. 

OTHER METHODS: ACTS OF SERVICE Uraraka likes it when other people try to help her out, but in all likelihood, she’s already completed any tasks that need doing herself. Helping out with complicated, extended tasks (like moving house) can be a great way for you to bond, since it’s harder for her to complete everything at once. It’s also great if you learn to predict her needs, since she sometimes forgets to make time for herself- a simple cup of tea or a clean living room goes a long way. 

QUALITY TIME Quality time can be awkward for Uraraka at first because she’s more concerned about her ability to make that time worth it and not seem boring. However, once you’ve built up a rapport, you and her can create some amazing memories without going out of your way to do anything ‘special’. She loves to laugh, and is a great conversational partner for give-and-take. One of her favourite things to do is watch movies while sat next to you. She has a cheap DVD player and a giant stack of movies she picked up from the bargain bin, so it’s interesting to see what she comes up with. The DVD player is on its last legs, so there’s a plot brewing among her friends to find a way to get her a new one without making her feel awkward. 

[ddarker-dreams]

What if yandere Tomura Dabi and Overhaul had a darling that liked them back? Like they were always trying to avoid them because they get flustered easily and when they get cornered by them they just start stuttering with a red face? Basically they're very shy and are crushing hard. And they're embarrassed about it.

Overhaul:

He isn’t one to approach you physically often, other than being in your presence. Overhaul also doesn’t try to touch you, so while that brings a certain level of comfort, his presence is still enough to incite fear into most. Even if he’s just sitting a few feet away from you, that’s all it takes for you to look away.

Still makes conversation with you, even if you’re quiet or offer short responses. He interprets it as you getting “used” to your new situation, and expected something like this to happen. Overhaul does what he can to accommodate for your needs. 

The room he has you in is full of things you like. If you’re into video games, every console will be available (aside from no online access). Any instrument you play would also be present, books you like, clothes you always wanted, etc... 

As time went on, you find yourself more comfortable with him. Even if his stoic disposition can be off putting, there’s a certain consistency with it. He never raises his voice at you, there are no surprises with him. In a strange way, it’s comforting how his demeanor is always the same towards you.

Makes lots of interesting conversation with you once you start to ease up a bit. There’s a good chance the both of you have different views on things, but he always listens to your side before giving his. He takes it as a sign of progress that you’re more talkative.

Eventually, you shyly say you have something to confess. You explain that you’ve always liked him, but you felt too embarrassed to tell him. Now that is something that Overhaul, as cunning as he is, was not expecting lol.

He doesn’t blush, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t have an impact on him. For once, he doesn’t respond right away. He pauses for a moment, before going “Oh.” 

Dabi:

Dabi with a shy darling is almost cruel in all honesty. He has a tendency to go overboard and is aware of it. He doesn’t get too hands on with you while you’re shy around him, aside from some “innocent” brushes against you. 

Compliments vary with him. Most of the time they’re embarrassing in nature, but he mixes in a few genuine ones every now and then. It’s hard to tell though. The sadistic side of him relishes in how you respond so cutely, with a flushed face and squeak.

After a while, a part of him wishes that you’d talk more to him. Even if he was teasing you often, he still would prefer you gave him attention or initiated conversation. It’s enough to slightly irritate him but he wouldn’t take it on you.

He’d confront you if you were actively ignoring him. Dabi isn’t someone who’d take kindly to that, and would demand you stop/an explanation. At that point you were already feeling embarrassed, and just rambled out an explanation.

Your explanation was that you find him really attractive, but it’s hard for you to get your thoughts together around him because of that. Dabi’s eyes widen for a moment, but then he has the smuggest grin on his face afterwards.

Leans up against you, his arm slamming next to your head. You look like a mouse caught by a cat, pupils dilated and heart racing. He drinks in the sight in front of him, now validated by your feelings.

“No need to be shy with me anymore, sweetheart. You’re mine.”

Tomura:

Next to no patience with this behavior. An important factor to him in these situations is validation. He wants your attention, he wants your compliments, he wants everything from you that you have to offer. Wont appreciate having to settle for anything less.

To a small extent, he understands your fear. But that doesn’t frustrate him any less. He constantly huffs at you, saying that if he wanted to hurt you he would’ve done it by now.

His reasonable side melts away pretty fast if you don’t accept his explanation. Tomura gets scary in these moments, his emotions beyond his own control. Rather than letting you experience that darker side of him, he’ll often just leave you be. 

Petty in general. All he wants is for you to like him, was he asking for too much? In comparison to every else, he treats you basically like a deity. If you ever made it known to him that you wanted something, he’d give it to you. So why you’re still so shy around him is a mystery.

Eventually, he gets pretty upset after he obtained a gift for you that you wanted for a while. When you’re too flustered to even offer a thank you, he throws a bit of a temper tantrum. Didn’t you see how hard he was trying?! 

At this, you’re caught by surprise. You get quiet for a moment, but then whisper that you do like him. But it’s just hard for you to express that.

Tomura almost instantly forgets that he was upset with you, anger melting away. He smiles, albeit creepily, finally receiving the validation from you that he had longed for.