#that i saw this live that i waited for this day to day

[riddlesrose]

sporting someone else's jersey

w/ ushijima, bokuto, sakusa, oikawa, kyotani, atsumu, suna & tsukishima

in which you decide to see how your pro volleyball player boyfriend reacts to you wearing a jersey. a jersey that so happens to not be his, and not even his team?? c'mon now.

a.n; all my favs go pro this is great

ushijima wakatoshi stares you down as you're cooking in the kitchen. you can feel the intense bore of his curious eyes as you welcome him home from practice. his wandering vision takes in the black jersey with the name "sakusa" in big, bold letters across the back. you look over your shoulder when he doesn't answer, and are met with his bewildered state.

"oh are you interested in my new shirt?" you pull at the hem, examining the MSBY jersey look-alike as you turn to face you boyfriend. he takes three long strides through the kitchen before he's caged you between himself and the counter.

"i don't like it. it's representing another team. though i am acquainted to sakusa..." he grasps his chin between his thumb and forefinger, pondering for a moment. "no, i don't like it."

you let your head fall onto his shoulder, defeated by his straightforwardness. he runs a hand down your spine, "is there a problem?"

you groan, meeting his eyes, "i thought you'd react more to it, like... be jealous or something, gods.." you say, rolling your eyes.

"well, i am jealous, i thought that was obvious?" he tilts his head to the side slightly, like a puppy.

"no, it wasn't!" you drop your forehead onto his chest and groan again. his 'matter-of-fact' attitude is probably going to kill you one day.

bokuto kotaro eyed the green shirt suspiciously, "when did you get that?"

you hum in a fake thought, "i think a while ago?" you turn, revealing the full front of the jersey. a large number 17, followed by the name sendai frogs.

"hey! it's tsukki-bro! hey, wait..." his shoulders fall, along with his smile. you almost gave up the act right then and there, he looks so upset immediately. he drags one foot after another, stopping in front of you. he pinches the mock jersey and rolls it between his fingers.

"it's not as soft as mine is." he mumbles, eyes still trained on the details of the shirt.

you wrap your arms around his neck and attempt to catch his eyes, but you realize they aren't sad. they're crinkled at the edges like he's smiling wide. seems like he's got you figured out.

kotaro figures you've caught onto his fake sadness, and a smile spreads across his lips as he kisses your forehead, "i saw the receipt on my email, you used my card."

"shit."

sakusa kiyoomi grimaces at your package as you hold it up for him to examine. if kiyoomi didn't find the green utterly horrid, it was the fact that you spent money, probably his, on a jersey that didn't even support his team.

"it's like you spun a wheel with teams on it and bought the first one it landed on," he watches as you rip the plastic off and instantly throw the jersey on. "oh my god."

you pull the shirt over your head, fitting into the sleeves, "what?"

"you're not even going to wash it first?" you pause. you hadn't thought about that, nor the fact that your boyfriend was now judging you twice over.

"i, um... no?" kiyoomi rolls his eyes, a telling look clouds his eyes. "wait, are you jealous?!" you practically leap off the couch, the green jersey falls fully into place, the hem grazing your thighs, as your boyfriend avoids your eyes.

"you are, i knew it!"

"i'm not.." he mumbles, cheeks turning just the slightest shade of pink. "why did you pick the sendai frogs anyways? do you even know the player you picked?"

"it was kyotani, and not really, i've only ever seen their team play on tv, like once." you reach around your head and pull the shirt off, throwing it to the side. "but you're jealous!"

"am not."

the jersey was a short lived accessory in your closet, but best believe kiyoomi threw it out later that night. the shirt wasn't even soft enough to turn into a cleaning rag or sleep shirt, in his best opinion.

oikawa tooru, your loving boyfriend, stands in front of you, absolutely fuming as he eyes the white schweiden adler's shirt. what makes it even worse is the name and number you've picked. #20, kageyama tobio.

"get rid of that, like, yesterday."

"um, how about no?"

"what do you mean, 'no'!"

you stand from the couch, "oh tooru, you grew up with iwaizumi as a best friend, you've been told no before." then take off towards your bedroom.

"you-! get back over here!" tooru tails you into the bedroom before you can shut and lock the door, leaving him in the hall. he grabs a handful of jersey pulling you towards the closet as you protest, trying to scratch at his arm like a cat.

"here is a treasure trove of shirts and sweaters at your disposal, why on earth would you need that."

you wiggle free from his, not surprisingly, strong grip and fall back onto the neatly made bed, wrinkling the sheets. "because, i knew you'd freak."

tooru whips around, slack jawed, "oh, and it was iwazumi's idea." if his mouth could fall any further to the ground, you'd have to pick it up for him.

"you're both so horribly mean to me!"

kyotani kentaro, a man of many emotions but little words. for some reason some 15 months ago, you decided that he was a great target for your affection. it took a long time poking and prodding at the volleyball player for his number, and by the grace of the gods, it worked. you broke down his walls and caved yourself a cozy little home in his heart. now, he'd ask for nothing different-

"what the fuck is that."

you look between your drink and your phone, one in each hand, "what do you mean?" you ask with a sweet smile.

he rounds the table, "oh piss off, you know what i mean," and pulls your chair out from the table, while tugging at your oversized argentina jersey t-shirt. the blue shirt ripples under kentaro's hold.

"oh, that! there was a giveaway online on them after the argentina team won their last big game, people online were saying they were soft, so i entered for one to sleep in. i needed a new sleep shirt anyways." you don't miss the disgusted look that your boyfriend sports so well, it deepens as he realizes the name on the back. oikawa.

after a moment, he notices your shoulders shaking lightly in laughter, sensing his displeasure. you rise from the chair, bringing him and his scrunched face into your hold, "i'm just fucking with ya, i specifically picked oikawa, too."

he huffs with a stupid smile, rolling his eyes but reciprocating the hug, "gross, get rid of it."

miya atsumu's jaw drops when he catches a sight of you lounging comfortably on the couch, in a jersey that is most definitely not his. he swiftly makes his way between you and the television, ignoring your protest. his brow furrows when you don't immediately acknowledge him and his pout, (though he will 100% deny he's pouting, miya atsumu does not pout like a child).

you lean back on the couch as he advances, "off, take it off," he says while grasping at the neck, trying to pull the jersey from you.

"atsumu stop, you're gonna stretch it!" you protest, trying to blindly swat his hands away.

he stops, the jersey falls back over your eyes and you're met with the most dramatically hurt expression ever, "you care more about this, than my feelings?!"

"i spent good money on it, besides, you went to school with suna so i thought it would be cute!"

"it is far from cute," he spits, eyes full of envy for what could have been you in his clothes. "if i let you re-steal the grey sweater can i throw that thing out?"

"... possibly."

atsumu crosses his arms, "i'll forfeit my movie choice tonight."

"you've got yourself a deal, sir."

"rin come help me with this!" suna rintaro shuffles off the couch at your call, making his way to the hallway between the living room and kitchen of your share apartment.

he leans on the doorframe as he watches you move around a picture frame, "where should this go?" you turn to him, handing the frame to him. it was a picture of the two of you and the miya twins at the recent festival that passed. it was nice to see the two of them, and thankfully both their schedules allowed for them to come.

rintaro smiles at the picture, gaze lifting to you, who's looking at him expectantly. his view lowers to your attire, a simple pair of black shorts and a shirt he's never seen before.

you catch him examining the jersey-copy and turn around to reveal the name miya across the back. you look over your shoulder and are met with rintaro's sharp eyes, judging your choice of player. and team.

he reaches out and places a hand on your shoulder, turning you back around to face him. "hey, why don't we have a bonfire tonight, i'm sure the pit is free and i have the perfect fire starter." you feel the shirt tighten by your shoulder, he's got an iron grip on the jersey, but his face remains calm as ever.

a little too calm, it's kind of unnerving.

large white letters stare tsukishima kei right back in his dumbfounded face. your boyfriend places his gym bag down by the door, walking into the kitchen, ducking under the frame that just slightly too short for him.

"hinata, really?" his voice sounded extremely irritated, but his face softened as you turned to face him.

you place your mug down, "yeah! i remember you went to school with him, i thought it was cool you both went pro!"

"i don't care what that blockhead did. more importantly, where did you get that?" the blonde gestures to your torso, flicking his wrist around distastefully.

you smile, "i ordered it online! since it's a popular team they have their own line of lookalikes, they're really soft too." while you praise the MSBY jersey, kei's brief look of jealousy goes unseen.

"you bought a jersey based on someone i went to high school with?" he steps closer, just to flick you on the forehead, "that's stupid."

you rub the spot, while swatting his chest with the back of your other hand, "you're stupid!"

"no, it's stupid that we're not burning that thing yet."

masterlist

p.s; i was gonna do goshiki but realized how CHOPPED he is in the timeskip. sorry my beloved i can't take you seriously with those baby bangs.

[rafesangelita]

♡ first encounter with sheriff!rafe

warnings: implied age gap (a pretty big one pls scroll if it’s not your thing), arguing, slut shaming, descriptions of mild injuries, excessive use of force, tending to wounds, flirty banter, rafe defends you, very slight fluff, mild humor, kissing

a/n: read more fics with sheriff!rafe here <3

wc: 2.1k

rafe couldn’t wait to get home already. after a long day of bullshit patrolling and knocking out a stack of paperwork as high as his waist, all he could think about was cracking open a cold beer and searing a steak for dinner while he watched football highlights on his poor excuse of a tv. he lived a relatively quiet life. having been the head deputy of his department for the last decade, everyone in town knew who he was and vice versa.

the town was so small, there really wasn’t any room for crime to actually take place. the line never rang for anything else except a few noise complaints, petty theft, and drunken fights breaking out at the local bar. there was nothing profoundly exciting about his job, or life for that matter; until one fated night sheriff thornton was dragging you into the station. you were cussing at topper, calling him every name in the book as he basically threw you into a holding cell.

you yelped, glaring at topper from under your lashes. “fuck you! you have the dumbest haircut i’ve ever seen, asshole!” rafe lifted his head once he heard the commotion, his eyes finding you in an instant. topper snorted, leaning down so he was in your face. “yeah? well you’re the one in high heels and knee high socks with your tits hanging out, you’re the sluttiest thing i’ve seen since i first got my hands on a playboy magazine.” he scoffed, walking off before you could rebuttal.

rafe heard every single word that topper told you, his chest growing hot as he shook his head. although he didn’t know what you were arrested for, he didn’t think anyone, let alone topper, had the right to tell you any of those things. as soon as topper was out of sight, rafe watched the way you looked down at your lap, a small pout forming on your lips as you felt exposed. you wore a mini skirt and tube top thinking you’d be spending your night at a party, not in a fucking sheriff station.

your arms were scratched up from when topper had you pinned down in the rubble just outside of the abandoned house where jj maybank’s kegger took place. he had a knee pressing down into your back and you still manged to slip out from under him, his grip on your shirt finally giving him the opportunity to cuff your wrists. you scanned the room, everyone’s eyes practically glued to your nearly naked form. rafe included.

he watched you shudder, cursing under his breath once he realized he couldn’t stand to look at you for another second without doing something. “thornton.” rafe got up from his seat, motioning towards his office. “what is she in here for?” topper glanced over at you, a laugh falling from his lips. “resisting arrest, and assault to a police officer.” rafe’s eyebrows knitted in confusion as he gave topper a once over. “assault on an officer? you look fine to me.”

“oh, not me, ‘kelce is the one with the icepack on his cheek.” rafe looked past the sheriff in front of him, an amused smile gracing his lips once he saw kelce walk out of the back with a bag full of ice. “send her in here.” was all he said before taking a seat behind his desk. rafe gritted his teeth when he saw the way topper yanked you up like rag doll, the force making you trip over your feet. you pulled away from topper the second you got into rafe’s office, the man in front of you clenching his fists at his sides. “shut the door.”

you stood there until you heard the click of the lock, your cheeks heating once you saw rafe’s eyes raking down your figure. “what happened to your arms?” he walked over and closed the blinds before taking the master key from his belt loop. “ask sheriff thornton.” you scoffed. rafe grumbled something under his breath before he moved the chair out in the corner of the room for you to sit. “if i uncuff you are you going to slug me like poor kelce out there?”

the corner of rafe’s lips twitched when he heard your laugh, the sound making something stir in his chest. “if you don’t give me shit about my outfit, no.” rafe nodded, deciding you were pretty much harmless against him if you decided to act out again. “speaking of that..” rafe unlocked the cuffs, stepping away from you so he could grab the large leather jacket that hung on the back of his chair. “i’m gonna turn around so you could fix yourself up a little bit.”

you blinked, looking around even though you two were concealed from everyone’s view. pulling up the neck line of your top, you quickly fixed your skirt so the soft curves of your ass weren’t peeking out from under the hem anymore. “you done?” you hummed, accepting the comically large jacket he draped over your shoulders. “i’m gonna ask you a few questions, you alright with that?” you stayed silent, only nodding as he took out a notepad and pen.

“do you have any kind of identification on you? a state id, maybe a driver’s license?” rafe’s voice was rather calm, a stark contrast to the two idiots who yelled at you the whole ride over here. “i did, but i dropped my purse and they didn’t let me get it back. i think my best friend has it right now.” rafe scribbled down ‘dumb and dumber’ on his piece of paper, officially adding them to his shit list. “okay then, can i get your full name please?”

you obliged, taking off your heels and your socks in the process. rafe didn’t bat an eye when his gaze trailed down your bare legs. however, he froze once he heard your last name. there was only one person with that name, and him and that person go way, way back. “was your dad a football star in highschool?” you rolled your eyes at the reminder. “ugh, yes, that’s all he ever talks about.. his ‘golden days’” you stood up, crossing your arms over your chest as you inspected all the certificates and awards framed on the walls.

“oh, man, me and him played together! i always thought he would go off to university or something, he was just amazing out on that field.” rafe marveled, his mind flooding with old memories of celebrating championships and chugging beers at a random ranch parties. “nope. he met my mommy, fell in love, and i was here in no time.” rafe hummed, inspecting you closely. “so how old are you, y/n?” you swallowed thickly, sparing him a glance. “old enough.”

“old enough to drink?” he shot back, making you groan. “if you’re going to charge me and call my dad then just do it, i don’t need the lecture.” you sat down again, this time wincing when your elbows hit the arm rest of the chair. rafe hated how much his partners roughed you up, he knew it wasn’t right. sighing through his nose, rafe pulled out his first aid kit before motioning you to come over. “take a seat right here.” he patted the empty spot on the hardwood of his desk, helping you climb up before sitting between your thighs.

despite the position being really compromising, you didn’t feel unsafe having him this close. “i’m not going to charge you, and i don’t want you to get in trouble with your old man, so i’m gonna propose a deal and whether you decide to take it or not, that’ll determine how this night ends.” he opened up an alcohol wipe before taking your arm and gliding the small towelette over your wounded skin. “i’m listening..” you trailed off, studying his facial features.

“you take a vow; right here, right now, that you’ll never leave the house again in this skirt and i’ll also drop the assault charge against my officer.” you laughed, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you spread your thighs further apart. rafe’s jaw clenched, his resolve and restraint holding on by a thread. “how come? you don’t like it?” you feigned a sad expression, leaning back on your hands. rafe cursed when the material of your red, lacey thong peeked out, his eyes flickering up to meet your own.

“no, i like it a lot, actually,” he swallowed thickly, “which is exactly why it’s not a good idea to wear it.” your breath shuddered when you felt his hand softly skim your flesh. “okay, deal—” there was a knock at the door, both you and rafe pulling away from each other as if you two were doing something you weren’t supposed to, and in a way you guessed you were. you scrambled to the chair as rafe cleared his throat awkwardly. “yes?” he opened the door, in walking kelce as he threw daggers at you.

“i got the paperwork for this one to be processed. ‘let this be a learning experience that you can’t just punch cops in the face.” he threw down the hefty stack of papers, a smile playing on your lips as rafe grabbed your socks and heels from the floor. “well, you have to be quicker than that next time. i’m escorting her home.” kelce reeled back, his eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “what?!” rafe rose a hand before leading you out of the room by the small of your back.

“if you and thornton ever do so much as raise your voice or lay an ungentle hand on her again, you’ll both be suspended without pay. understood?” kelce narrowed his gaze, meeting your smug grin before giving rafe a curt nod. “yes, sir.” you winked at him before rafe walked you outside and opened the door to his cruiser. without a word, rafe turned on his radio and rolled the windows down before driving to the address you gave him.

so there you were, your feet in your new favorite sheriff’s lap, the wind blowing wildly through your hair as his favorite track blasted through the speakers. you felt something in you switch when you studied his side profile. sheriff cameron was all man. small waist, broad shoulders, deliciously huge biceps, he was it. instinctively, you rubbed your heel over his groin, his jaw clenching as he stopped you, wrapping a rough hand around your ankle.

“i have no ulterior motives with you. don’t feel inclined.” you smiled. of course he didn’t. just as you were going to keep up your ministrations, you saw your house coming up in the distance, your heart sinking at the sight. you didn’t want to go home yet. “well, this is you.” he sighed, rolling up just out front. rolling your eyes, you sat up straight, crossing your arms over your chest. “thank you.” rafe looked over at you, his eyes scanning over your form.

“you’re welcome.” god, the air was thick with tension. “so, uhm—” you cut him off, pressing a kiss to his lips before you could think, the coarse hair of his mustache tickling your nose. rafe was stunned, his grip tightening on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. you tasted like cherries that were picked in the summertime, a groan rumbling from his chest before he gave in, pulling you from the passenger seat and onto his lap.

laying your hands flat on his chest, you leaned back slightly, allowing him to plant his large palms in the curves of your hips. both of you jumped when the honk sounded, a laugh bursting from your throat when you saw his eyes grow wide. “you’re gonna get us in trouble!” he scolded, basically tossing you back in the seat next to him. you were full on giggling now, pointing a red painted fingernail at him. “look at your face!” you tossed your head back, the tips of his ears flustered with a deep shade of pink.

“your old man can wake up and come out here!” he whispered. “and do what? call the cops?” he stared at you for a moment, resisting the urge to break out into a smile. deciding you better head upstairs before your father gets up to check on the ruckus outside, you hooked your heels between your fingers, adjusting the huge jacket that currently swallowed your frame. “i wanna see you again.” you blurted out, the porch light flickering on. “i do too,” rafe agreed, “but i don’t know when i can—”

you waved him off, running up the porch stairs before your father could come outside. “i have your jacket, so it looks like we have to meet up again anyways!” rafe caught your drift, wasting no time in peeling off onto the dirt road, his heart pounding with adrenaline. what the hell just happened? an hour ago he was bored out of his mind, wanting nothing more than to get home, and now he couldn’t wait for it to be the next day so he could get you back in his car.

[enhani-ki]

HII I LOVE UR FICS!! I had a suggestion.. what about jealous riki whos clingy and whiny all day so reader kinda ignores it thinking his jealousy is childish so he gets mad and takes out his frustration by fucking her? Just a thought! (keep up w the good work <33 I really love reading your fics)

jealousy, jealousy - reader x ni-ki

warnings: smut, nsfw, cursing, etc.

you were in bed alone and bored out of your mind.

sighing, you got up and wandered into the living room where you saw your angry boyfriend lying on the couch, silently scrolling through his phone.

it's your damn coworker's fault.

your new coworker had been texting you nonstop for help, ni-ki noticed and when he came to pick you up earlier today, he saw the guy touching your leg to steady you while you were on the ladder, reaching for something and on top of that, he was being clingy to you and you're pushing him off all week. he let it go but he saw you glued to your phone again so he got fed up and finally asked, "who's that?"

"hm? oh, my coworker again. i left early with you so he's just asking where to put things."

ni-ki stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing slow kisses to your shoulder. "can't he ask someone else?"

"well, he's new and i think he's more comfortable asking me. he might be shy, you know?"

"shy, my ass." ni-ki pulled back slightly, clearly annoyed. "why is he only comfortable with you?"

you pulled away completely from his hug. "i don't know, you're asking a weird question."

"no, i'm not." he stepped closer. "does he know you have a boyfriend?"

you furrowed your brows. "no?"

"why?"

"because he didn't ask and why would i randomly say, 'oh, i have a boyfriend'?"

ni-ki chuckled dryly. "tell him he can quit his job if he has to bother you like this."

"what the hell is your problem?"

now, he wouldn't talk to you.

you sat down on the couch beside him, "babe… i'm sorry…" you finally apologized. your boyfriend trusts you, you know he's never pushy and would never ask something weird unless it's genuinely bothering him.

he ignored your apology. just like how you ignored him.

you lay beside him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

you started kissing his shoulder, his arm, his neck... just small, soft kisses to try to get something out of him.

then your fingers trailed down his arm, over his stomach where he was warm and you can feel his firm muscles under your touch.

you tangled your leg with his. "ni-ki..." you called out but still, nothing.

fine.

you swung your leg over his lap, pressing your chest against his as you kissed down his neck, sucking it lightly but ni-ki still held onto his phone like he wasn't affected.

your body started craving his warmth, not sure if it is because he was refusing to touch you.

"talk to me..." you whined softly, pressing your thigh between his, rubbing against him just enough to make your intentions clear.

and when he didn't respond, you couldn't wait anymore, you removed your shirt slowly while looking at him before leaning in again to give kisses to his body.

and ni-ki bit his lip, he was watching you in his peripheral vision, fighting the urge to shove his face down to your tits.

he wanted to, but... maybe later? because you have to work for his forgiveness.

your mouth trailed down his neck again, along his collarbone, down to his chest. his abs tensed as you kissed a path lower, following the v of his hips.

and even though he's acting like a bitch, his body was betraying him because you could literally see his dick straining against his pants now, so you hurried and unfastened it to free him.

he groaned silently when he felt your cold hand wrapped around his cock. you gave it a slow pump but you took him into your mouth seconds later, moaning at the taste of him.

ni-ki's phone fell from his hands, "oh f-fuck..." he said, gripping in the cushion.

it's like you were making out with his cock.

you were bobbing your head, sucking and deepthroating him while your free hand was cupping his balls, where he was sensitive. you rolled them in your palm, his dick throbbed inside your mouth.

his legs were starting to move, you knew he was about to cum so you stopped. "wha-" ni-ki was about to complain but stopped himself.

his eyes followed your every move, you tossed your panties on his face harshly before laying down beside him. you pressed your back against his chest, lining his cock in your entrance.

and then you started rolling your hips slowly, his long thick cock was stretching your wet walls so you had to pause, "oh god..." you breathed out, bracing your hands on his thighs for support.

ni-ki hissed, trying to hold still and let you take the lead, his hands gripped your hips but it's only held you steady. still not helping to work you open even though it was so hard not to thrust up into your tight hole.

and you kept slipping off his length, you're so used to him pounding and stretching you open so now you're having trouble using him for yourself.

tears started to form in your eyes and a sob got caught in your throat as you rode him desperately to chase your release.

"please," you gasped out, clenching around him because you're already close. "i...i need you to touch me, baby." you moved faster, ni-ki's grip on your hips tightened, his thick shaft was pulsing inside but he still hadn't touched you how you needed him to.

then you pulled away and stood up, ready to walk away as angry tears streamed down your face because you can't cum.

ni-ki stood up too, grabbing your wrist right away and pulled you right back "don't be mad..." he chuckled and kissed you. "i'm supposed to be the angry one, right?"

you rolled your eyes and he knelt down, you were so wet that he had to lick some of it first.

it's okay, he's thirsty anyways.

ni-ki turned you around on your shaky legs, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them behind your back with one hand while the other slid up to your throat, his fingers were pressing just the right spots at the sides to slow the blood flow, making your head feel light.

and the new position had him hitting deeper. you can feel the tip of his dick hit your cervix, making your mind blank than it already is. usually, ni-ki would talk to you while having sex but right now, he can't think of anything aside from being angry and jealous, even ignoring the fact that you already had multiple orgasms.

his grunts and groans filled the room, along with the obscene sound of skins slapping against the other, and even though his legs were starting to ache, he couldn't stop, he wouldn't stop until he was satisfied... though he had to slow down now when he felt your pussy tightens and getting even more wet... oh, you cummed again... your body started losing balance.

"shit-" he cursed, releasing your wrists and held your body gently. "sorry..." he added, quickly pressing a kiss to you cheek then gently helped you lay on the bed.

he put your trembling legs over his shoulders. you both watched him put his cock back inside, to slide in and out.

it hurts so good, you pulled his hair. ni-ki's cock felt even bigger than usual, giving you more pleasure and pain. "fuck, baby...so tight..."

you could feel your orgasm building building again, tight in your core. "cum..." he demanded hotly against your ear. "soak my dick more."

ni-ki buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hips were already stuttering. and he looked so good, biting his lips and shit.

after you came, ni-ki wiped your tears before bringing his fingers to your lips. "open your mouth, baby."

ni-ki pulled out abruptly and stood to press his cock to your mouth. cursing and moaning your name as he pumped his hot load onto your tongue before collapsing next to you, he could barely feel his legs.

then he let out a breathless chuckle after he saw you. "you look like a mess."

"whose fault is that?"

he smiled and hugged you. "yours..." ni-ki said, then he sat up. "be right back."

you whined, tightening your grip around his arm. "nooo, stay."

he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead before gently prying your arms off him. "i gotta clean you up, baby. we're both messy."

hours later, you woke up and stretched your limbs, only to feel a familiar weight beside you. ni-ki was still half-asleep, his arm were resting over your waist, your legs were tangled together with his.

"you okay?" he asked, his voice deep and a little raspy.

"mhmm..."

ni-ki kissed your shoulder. "you sure?"

you grinned sleepily, peeking up at him. "yes, you stopped ignoring me."

"because i was mad earlier." he pinched your side lightly, making you squirm. "and you just kept pushing it, it's so annoying."

you giggled, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. "then stop being mad at me over stupid things."

"stupid things? that dude was all over you." he huffed, "touching your leg, texting you all day… if i didn't come pick you up, who knows what you would've let him do."

you rolled your eyes. "what? first of all, i won't let him do anything. second, he was just helping to steady me."

"next time, let the ladder steady you.." he grumbled. "did you tell him?"

you groaned, turning to bury your face into your pillow. "ni-ki, seriously?"

you don't know why he'd ask that, he's literally sleeping with you all this time and you don't even know where you put that stupid phone.

he placed his head on his hand, propping himself up on one elbow, staring down at you with messy hair and sleepy eyes. "did you tell him you have a boyfriend?"

"good morning to me."

ni-ki ignored your sarcasm, nudging your cheek with his nose. "did you?"

you ignored him, hoping he'll let it go if you stayed quiet.

ni-ki groaned, rolling onto his side and throwing a leg over yours to trap you in place. "you didn't, did you?"

"ni-ki..."

"i don't get what's so hard about it."

"it's not hard..." you muttered, already feeling exhausted. "go find my phone."

"it's not there?"

you shook your head.

"okay, do it later."

you facepalmed.

then he dramatically collapsed onto you. "babe, what if he thinks he has a chance? what if he texts you again today? what if he-"

you covered his mouth.

his lips curved into a grin against your palm before he licked it.

you yelped, pulling your hand back as he laughed.

he grinned again before leaning in, his voice turned into a whiny murmur. "just tell him later, okay?"

at this point, you knew he wasn't jealous anymore. he's just doing this to annoy you.

"yes, i'll tell him today."

"promise?"

"yes, promise!"

he squinted his eyes at you. "say it nicely."

you rolled your eyes but just played along, cupping his face. "ni-ki, my wonderful, stubborn boyfriend, i promise i will inform that guy today that i have a boyfriend."

he hummed, satisfied, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

"can i go back to sleep now?"

ni-ki pretended to think for a moment before shaking his head. "nope. i'm awake, so you have to be, too."

a/n: hi, this is very late so forgive me T T but i hope you'll like it

read part-timers!ni-ki x reader part i || part ii

read touché - ni-ki x reader part i || part ii

read fuckboy!ni-ki x reader part i || part ii

read Nishimura Riki as your boyfriend

read Nishimura Riki as your classmate

read snitch - reader x ni-ki

read tv off - ni-ki x reader

read exes - reader x ni-ki

read he knows - ni-ki x reader x jake

[akawifeyy]

SO AMERICAN | smau (OP81)

description: you might not be australian, but oscar piastri loves you just the same.

tropes: yapper x listener, he falls first and harder, celebrity actress!fem!reader (you’re the daughter of matt damon, please tell me you all know who he is)

face claim: addison rae

trigger warnings: suggestive content, swearing

| note: sorry for the long wait between posts, i'm not feeling the best right now and i've also had a jam-packed schedule. but anyways! here you go! this is based on ♪ so american / olivia rodrigo, which is one of my fave songs of all time :)

@ f1gossip: The daughter of Matt Damon, Y/N, is reportedly dating McLaren's F1 driver, Oscar Piastri. Thoughts?

tagged: @ f1, @ f1yaps, @ f1talk

comments (5862):

@ user1: she's so pretty omg 😭

-> @ user2: First thought was, "She's everything, and he's just Ken." Y/N is absolutely gorgeous.

@ user3: even though i've been an oscar girlie since day 1, i support this. if this is real, i wish them the best of luck <3

@ f1yaps: Has a hot new WAG entered the paddock? Only time will tell

@ yourusername: howdy, cota 🤠 had a great time

tagged: @ f1, @ mattdamon, @ yourbffusername

@ user4: prettiest cowgirl there is 🤎

@ oscarpiastri: It was nice meeting you!

-> @ yourusername: ditto! hoping to buy tickets for las vegas :)

@ user5: Why is Oscar lowkey lurking in the comments... 🤨

-> @ user6: read @ f1gossip's most recent post

@ yn.updates: during an interview for her upcoming movie, "riptide", y/n was asked about the gossip concerning her and mclaren f1 driver oscar piastri. with a big smile, she replied, "he seems like a great guy, but let's be for real. i've met him one time. let's not get too far ahead, please!"

tagged: @ yourusername, @ oscarpiastri, @ f1, & 2 more

comments (1257):

@ user7: That dress is stunning 😩

@ user8: they'd be cute together as a couple ngl. i'd love to see more of them

-> @ user8: but, they deserve their privacy

@ user9: ynoscar is adorable ❤️❤️

Text messages between Oscar and Y/N (2025):

@ yourusername: las vegas was a hit! congrats to the papaya boys, p2 and p3

tagged: @ f1, @ mclaren, @ oscarpiastri, @ landonorris

comments (9374):

@ yourbffusername: super cool! miss you xoxo

-> @ yourusername: miss you too, i'll be back home soon 💗

@ user10: Twinklaren tagged!!

@ oscarpiastri: Thanks for coming!

-> @ yourusername: of course, i wouldn't miss it for the world 😁

comments (539):

@ user5: Have any of you seen Oscar's most recent Insta story?

-> @ user11: the way i ran to check and SCREAMED 😳

-> @ user5: IK, they are so evil for soft-launching, they're torturing us. *Sobs*

Oscar's Instagram Story:

comments (7521):

@ yourusername: might not be good at legos but it was still fun being with you!

@ user12: ADORABLE 🥰

@ user8: how does it feel to live my dream 😞

Press Conference Interview Excerpt with Oscar (2025):

Interviewer: Congratulations on your podium in Qatar, Oscar! We noticed a special someone was missing, would you like to tell us more about them?

Oscar (smiling): If the special someone is Y/N Damon, you wouldn't be wrong. She means a lot to me, and I'm very lucky to be with her. Anyways, she sadly wasn't able to make it because she is back in America for the time being. She's about to have her red carpet debut for her movie, "Riptide"! I saw a few clips from it and she does a flawless job.

Interviewer: Is this an acknowledgement of the relationship between the two of you?

Oscar: Yeah.

Interviewer: How long have the two of you been together?

Oscar: A few weeks after COTA.

Interviewer: Well, best of luck to the new couple!

Text messages between Oscar and Y/N (2025):

@ oscarpiastri: What a way to end 2025! See you all next year

tagged: @ landonorris, @ f1, @ mclaren, @ yourusername

comments (4898):

@ user13: ahhh omg y/n mention!! 🥹

-> @ user14: They're so cute

-> @ user9: best couple in a long time

@ landonorris: Always glad to be with you, mate

-> @ oscarpiastri: 2026 three-peat is on its way!

@ yourusername: so so proud of you 🥳

-> @ oscarpiastri: Thank you, I'm proud of you too. Can't wait to be with you again 😘

─── ୨୧ ─── THE END ─── ��୧ ───

[oldsoul007]

somewhere in northern italy

older!joel miller x younger!reader

summary: A summer in the heart of Tuscany rekindles an unexpected connection between y/n, a spirited traveler with Italian roots, and Joel, an enigmatic older man from her past, as love blooms amidst sunlit vineyards, secret ambitions, and the allure of second chances.

a/n: I miss summer, reader speaks Italian, Joel’s business man, this is all fluff, kissing

joel miller masterlist

There was something about summers in Italy that made me feel like I was living in a dream. Maybe it was the slow mornings spent sipping cappuccinos in the sun or the way the golden light bathed everything in warmth. Or maybe it was just the way life felt simpler here, quieter, like I could finally breathe.

Nonna always said I belonged here more than anywhere else. “Sei come me, y/n. Il tuo cuore è italiano.” You’re like me, y/n. Your heart is Italian.

Maybe she was right.

It was another warm evening when I saw him.

I had just left the market, a bag of peaches cradled in my arms, when I caught sight of someone who looked so entirely out of place that I almost didn’t believe it.

Joel Miller.

For a second, I thought I was imagining things.

He didn’t belong here. Not in the way the locals did, with their easy smiles and the familiarity in their movements. He stood apart—too refined, too polished. His clothes were simple—dark slacks, a crisp button-down with the sleeves rolled up—but they fit him too well, like they had been made just for him. And then there was the watch. Sleek. Understated. Expensive.

But it wasn’t just the way he looked. It was the way he carried himself. Relaxed, but deliberate. Like a man used to being in control.

I should have kept walking.

But then he looked up, and our eyes met.

Something in my chest tightened.

His brow creased slightly, and he glanced at his phone before looking back at the buildings around him.

I slowed. “Ti sei perso?”

Joel’s head snapped toward me, his gaze sharp before recognition flickered across his face. Then came the smirk—slow and knowing.

“Well, hell,” he muttered.

I raised an eyebrow. “Are you lost?”

He exhaled a short laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Somethin’ like that.”

I shifted the bag in my arms, studying him. “What are you doing in Tuscany?”

His smirk didn’t fade, but something about his expression changed, like he was waiting to see how I’d react to whatever he said next.

“Work.”

Interesting. Joel looked like a man who worked with his hands, but he didn’t carry himself like a businessman either. Not the kind who sat behind a desk all day, at least.

“What kind of work?” I pressed.

A pause. “Business.”

Vague. Purposefully so.

I hummed, but let it go—for now.

Joel chuckled, shaking his head. “Didn’t expect an interrogation when I stopped to ask for directions.”

I smiled. “Fine. Where are you trying to go?”

He glanced at his phone, then back at me. “Some restaurant—uh, Trattoria del Sole?” His pronunciation was terrible.

I laughed. “You mean this Trattoria del Sole?” I turned and pointed to the restaurant just across the piazza.

Joel followed my gaze, then exhaled another quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Well, hell.”

I bit my lip to hide my smile. “Guess you were lost.”

Joel looked at me for a long moment, like he was still trying to piece together how, out of all places, I was standing in front of him.

“You always spend your summers here?” he asked.

“Yes and no,” I said, adjusting the bag in my arms. “My grandmother lives here. I grew up coming to visit.”

He nodded, considering.

Then, after a beat, “Join me for dinner.”

It wasn’t a question.

I studied him, weighing the offer.

Joel had always been like this—straightforward, sure of himself. It wasn’t arrogance, exactly, but he wasn’t the kind of man who expected to be told no.

I liked that. But I liked keeping him on his toes more.

I raised an eyebrow. “You always invite old acquaintances to dinner?”

Joel smirked, slow and lazy. “Only the ones who used to babysit my kid.”

A laugh bubbled up in my throat. “That was a long time ago.”

His eyes glinted with something unreadable. “Still happened.”

I exhaled, shifting the bag of peaches in my arms. “Alright,” I said finally. “But only because I’m curious.”

“About what?”

I stepped past him, toward the restaurant, glancing back just enough to catch the glint of amusement in his eyes.

“About you.”

And just like that, dinner became the start of something I wasn’t sure I was ready for.

The restaurant was warm and intimate, the kind of place where locals lingered over wine and spoke in hushed, easy tones. Golden candlelight flickered against the stone walls, and the scent of garlic and fresh basil filled the air.

Joel sat across from me, one arm draped over the back of his chair, fingers lightly tapping against the wood. He looked at ease, but I could tell he was studying me, the way I moved, the way I spoke. Like he was trying to figure me out.

I let him wonder.

The waiter approached, speaking to me in rapid Italian. “Acqua naturale o frizzante?”

I glanced at Joel. He looked completely lost.

Biting back a smile, I turned back to the waiter. “Naturale, grazie.” Then, I glanced at Joel again. “Still need a translator?”

He smirked. “Workin’ on it.”

I hummed. “You should work faster.”

Joel let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Somethin’ tells me you like havin’ the upper hand.”

I tilted my head. “Maybe.”

The waiter returned with the water, and we placed our orders—well, I did. Joel simply glanced at me and said, “Order for me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You trust me with that?”

His lips twitched. “Reckon I do.”

Interesting.

I ordered us both pasta—something simple, fresh, the kind of meal that let the ingredients speak for themselves. When the waiter left, I leaned forward, resting my chin on my hand.

“So, Joel,” I said, tasting his name on my tongue, watching the way his expression flickered when I said it. “What kind of business brings you to Italy?”

His gaze held mine for a beat, unreadable. Then, he exhaled, leaning back. “Investments.”

I considered him. “Not exactly a vacation, then.”

“Not exactly.”

I twirled the stem of my wine glass between my fingers. “You don’t stay in one place long, do you?”

Joel’s jaw ticked slightly. “Depends on the place.”

Something in his tone made my stomach flip.

Outside, the night had deepened, the piazza quieter now, bathed in the soft glow of the streetlamps.

Joel walked beside me as I led him through the winding streets. His pace was slow, deliberate, like he was in no rush to leave.

I stopped at a small bridge overlooking the canal, leaning against the stone railing. He stood beside me, close but not touching.

“You enjoyed yourself,” I said, watching the water ripple below.

He smirked. “That obvious?”

I turned to face him. “You don’t strike me as the kind of man who does things he doesn’t enjoy.”

Joel exhaled, his gaze drifting over my face, pausing just briefly at my lips before meeting my eyes again.

“You’d be right,” he murmured.

I should go.

But then his fingers grazed my wrist, settling lightly against my skin. Not pulling, not demanding. Just… there.

I could have stepped away.

But I didn’t.

I should have walked away sooner.

That was the smart thing to do—leave before I got too comfortable, before the pull between us became something I couldn’t ignore.

But when Joel’s fingers grazed my wrist, lingering just enough to make my breath hitch, I knew I was already in trouble.

Still, I smiled softly and pulled away. “Goodnight, Joel.”

He didn’t stop me. Didn’t try to convince me to stay.

But as I walked away, I could feel his eyes on me, the weight of his presence still thick in the warm summer air.

And for the first time in a long time, I left someone behind and actually wished I hadn’t.

—

I didn’t expect to see him again.

Tuscany was big enough for two people to never cross paths twice, but small enough that fate sometimes had other plans.

It was three days later when I spotted him again, standing near a vineyard just outside of town, speaking with a man I recognized as one of the local winemakers. His sleeves were rolled up again, exposing strong forearms, and his brows were furrowed as he listened, nodding at whatever was being said.

I should have kept walking.

But something made me stop.

Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was something else.

I stepped closer, tilting my head with a smirk. “You still lost?”

Joel turned, his expression shifting from mild surprise to something softer, something unreadable.

“Well, if I was, reckon you’d enjoy that too much,” he said, that slow drawl making me bite back a smile.

“Maybe,” I admitted. “You’re fun to mess with.”

He exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking his head.

The winemaker excused himself, leaving us alone.

Joel watched me, that same way he had the night we met—like he was still trying to figure me out.

“You stickin’ around long?” I asked, arms folding over my chest.

“For a little while,” he said.

A beat of silence stretched between us. The midday sun was high, casting long shadows over the vineyard.

Then, I made a decision.

“You’ve only seen the surface of Tuscany,” I said. “The tourist spots. The places people write about in guidebooks.”

Joel raised an eyebrow. “And you know better?”

I smirked. “I know the good places.”

His lips twitched. “That so?”

I took a step back, tilting my head toward the narrow road leading away from the vineyard. “Come on, Mister Miller. Let me show you the real Tuscany.”

Joel exhaled, shaking his head slightly—like he couldn’t believe he was agreeing to this—but he followed.

And just like that, our summer began.

—

I didn’t give him the tourist tour.

I took him through the narrow alleys tourists never found, past crumbling walls where wildflowers spilled from cracks in the stone. We ducked into the tiny bakery run by Signora Valli, where Joel nodded politely as she scolded me for staying away too long.

“She likes you,” Joel said when we stepped back into the sun.

“That was her being nice,” I said, breaking off a piece of warm cornetto and handing it to him.

He chewed thoughtfully. “So, what’s she say when she’s mean?”

I grinned. “You don’t want to know.”

We wandered down to the olive groves, where the cicadas hummed and the sun turned the leaves silver-green. I showed him where the best figs grew, and when I pointed to the twisted old tree near the stone wall, Joel surprised me by stepping forward and tugging a ripe fig from a low branch.

“Didn’t think you’d climb a tree,” I said as he handed it to me.

He shrugged. “Didn’t have to. Got you to do all the hard work.”

I shot him a glare and bit into the fig, sweet juice dripping down my wrist. His eyes followed the movement, dark and intent. I didn’t wipe it away.

By late afternoon, we ended up at the old stone bridge overlooking the vineyards. I leaned against the warm stone, watching the distant figures move between the vines. Joel stood beside me, arms crossed, gaze on the horizon.

“You really spend every summer here?” he asked after a while.

“Every one I can.” I smiled faintly. “Nonna likes having me around. Says I keep her young.”

Joel huffed a laugh. “Don’t reckon she needs help with that. She looks like she runs the place.”

“She does,” I said, grinning. “The whole village’s scared of her.”

He smirked but didn’t respond. The breeze tugged at the hair curling against his temple, and I caught myself staring.

I glanced away. “What about you? You’re supposed to be working, aren’t you?”

His jaw shifted. “Yeah.”

“That convincing?”

He shot me a sidelong glance. “No.”

I waited, but he didn’t offer more. I should’ve been annoyed, but it was hard to be when he stood there like that—solid and unyielding, like the bridge itself.

The wind shifted, carrying the scent of rosemary and cypress. I rubbed my thumb along the stone. “So, is Tuscany what you expected?”

Joel’s eyes flicked to mine. “Didn’t expect Tuscany.”

The air thickened between us. His gaze didn’t waver.

I felt it again—that pull, familiar now but no less disorienting. Like standing at the edge of a step you didn’t know was there.

I opened my mouth to deflect with a joke, but Joel shifted closer, his arm brushing mine. The warmth of it sank through the fabric of my dress, solid and steady.

The sun dipped lower over the vineyards, painting the sky in soft strokes of orange and pink. We sat on the low stone wall at the edge of the hill, our legs dangling over the side. The breeze carried the scent of wild thyme and warm earth, and somewhere in the distance, a church bell rang.

Joel stretched his legs out in front of him, his boots scuffed against the old stones. His hand rested beside mine on the wall—close but not touching this time. The warmth of it still lingered from when he’d held it earlier. I couldn’t quite decide if I missed it or if I was relieved he’d let go.

“So,” I said, breaking the silence, “did you ever think you’d run into me here?”

Joel huffed a laugh. “Didn’t think I’d run into anyone I knew. Tuscany ain’t exactly down the road from Austin.”

I smiled faintly. “Yeah, well. You never know where Texas will follow you.”

He grinned, and the sight of it hit me harder than I expected. I wasn’t used to seeing him like this—relaxed, amused. It made him look younger. Less weighed down.

“you ever miss it in summer?” he asked after a beat.

“Texas?” I considered, tilting my face toward the sun. “Sometimes.”

“Like what?”

I tapped my fingers against the stone. “Summer storms,” I said after a moment. “The ones that roll in out of nowhere. The smell of rain on hot pavement. And barbecue. God, I miss barbecue.” I sighed dramatically, and Joel chuckled. “What about you?”

His eyes softened. “Yeah. Miss the little stuff. Mornin’s on the porch with a cup of coffee. That first cold snap in October when the air actually feels different. And the stars.” He exhaled. “Stars here are nice, but…ain’t the same.”

“Yeah,” I agreed softly. “Not like home.”

The word slipped out before I thought about it. My cheeks warmed, but Joel didn’t say anything. He just nodded, like he knew exactly what I meant.

The cicadas buzzed louder in the trees.

He didn’t press me for more. Joel was good at that—giving me space to say what I needed without pushing.

Instead, he reached down and picked up a stray pebble, rolling it between his fingers. “Sarah still talks about you, y’know.”

That surprised me. My chest tightened. “She does?”

Joel smiled faintly. “Yeah. Told me the other day she still remembers when you made her those chocolate chip pancakes with the smiley faces.”

I laughed, the memory sharp and clear. “I did that every time I babysat her. She used to insist on extra chocolate chips for the eyes.”

“She still does.” His voice was soft. “You were good to her.”

“She was easy to be good to.”

Joel didn’t respond right away. His thumb traced the edge of the pebble, eyes distant. I wondered if he was thinking about Sarah, or maybe her mom, or maybe something else entirely.

“I remember when you first showed up to babysit,” he said eventually. “You were what—twenty?”

“Barely.” I smiled wryly. “And nervous as hell. Your daughter had more confidence than I did.”

“She liked you right away.” His mouth curved slightly. “Kept askin’ when you were comin’ back.”

My chest warmed. “She was always the sweetest.”

Joel nodded, but his expression turned more thoughtful. “Didn’t expect to see you here, though. In Italy, I mean.”

I arched a brow. “Why not?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. Back then, you were always talkin’ about Texas like you never wanted to leave.”

I laughed softly. “Yeah, well. Life has a way of surprising you.”

Joel’s eyes flicked to mine. “Yeah,” he murmured. “It does.”

The weight of his gaze settled over me, heavy and warm. My pulse stuttered. I wanted to look away, but something held me there, locked in place.

The sun dipped lower. The cicadas hummed. And Joel Miller, the man I never expected to see outside of Texas, sat beside me like he’d always belonged here.

I cleared my throat, breaking the moment. “Anyway,” I said, forcing a teasing lilt into my voice. “How does it feel to have a Texan showing you around Italy?”

Joel chuckled, the tension easing just slightly. “Humblin’,” he said, straight-faced.

I snorted. “Yeah, right.”

He turned his head to look at me again. “Nah. I mean it.”

My smile faltered. “Why?”

Joel shifted slightly on the stone wall, his shoulder brushing mine. “’Cause I know how much you love this place,” he said after a beat. “And you don’t share it with just anyone.”

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. He wasn’t wrong.

But the realization that he knew that—that he saw me like that—hit harder than I was ready for.

I didn’t know what to say, so I just smiled faintly and bumped my shoulder against his. “Don’t get a big head, Miller. I’m just making sure you don’t embarrass Texas while you’re here.”

His eyes twinkled. “Too late.”

I laughed, and the tension shifted. But later, when we walked back down the hill toward the village, Joel let his hand brush mine again.

This time, I didn’t pull away.

—

The sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the villa and everything it touched. The heat of the day was starting to settle in, the warm air wrapping around us as I walked barefoot toward the pool. The sound of the water was calming, a gentle lapping as it caught the sun’s reflection, sparkling with every movement.

Joel was already in the pool, his figure cutting through the water with ease. He had his arms resting on the side, looking up at me as I approached. His eyes twinkled with that easy smile he wore so often, but there was something different about his expression today—something a little more intent.

I didn’t hesitate, peeling off my sundress and stepping into the water, the coolness of it a perfect relief from the heat. The water lapped against my skin, and I felt weightless, free. I swam toward Joel, the soft splash of my movements the only sound between us.

He reached out, taking my hand as I neared, his grip warm and firm, guiding me closer. “You look like you’re enjoying the summer,” he said, his voice low and steady, a slight teasing note beneath it.

I grinned, the warmth of the sun on my skin mixing with the coolness of the water. “I am,” I replied, letting my fingers brush against his. “It’s hard not to when you’re surrounded by this.”

He studied me for a moment, his eyes dark and intense as they locked onto mine. There was a quiet moment, a small shift in the air between us. I could feel the pull, the way everything seemed to slow down when we were near each other, the way the world felt a little bit more alive in his presence.

I swam a little closer, not breaking eye contact, until I was standing just in front of him, the water lapping gently at our waists. My heart was beating faster now, not from the swim, but from the closeness between us. The tension that had been building in little moments over the past few weeks was palpable now, the air thick with it.

Joel’s hand gently cupped my face, his thumb brushing over my cheek as if memorizing the feel of my skin. His touch sent a shiver down my spine, the connection between us undeniable. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in, and before I could even think about it, his lips brushed softly against mine.

The kiss was slow, a gentle exploration of what had been building between us for days, weeks even. The water seemed to heighten everything—the way his lips moved against mine, the way his hand slid down to the back of my neck, pulling me closer as the world seemed to fade away.

My hands found their way to his shoulders, and as I leaned in deeper, the kiss became more intense, more desperate. His breath mingled with mine, and I could feel his heart beating just as fast as mine. Every moment felt electric, like the entire summer was being condensed into this one perfect second.

Joel pulled away slightly, his forehead resting against mine, his breath coming in short bursts. “You drive me crazy,” he murmured, his voice rough.

I smiled, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw, savoring the feel of him, the warmth of his body against mine. “I think you do the same to me,” I whispered back.

There was something in his eyes, something vulnerable and open, as he looked at me. It was as if we both knew this moment was more than just a kiss, more than just a summer fling. The intensity was undeniable. But for now, there was no need to rush—everything felt right in this suspended moment.

We lingered there, our faces close, letting the soft splashes of the water and the warmth of the sun settle around us. He kissed me again, this time deeper, a kiss that spoke of longing, of something unspoken but understood between us.

I closed my eyes, leaning into him, feeling the pulse of the water around us as I pressed my body closer to his. The coolness of the pool mixed with the heat of our skin, creating a contrast that only made the moment more intoxicating.

For a moment, nothing else existed but the two of us, lost in the water, in the sun, in the quiet intimacy of the summer. It was a perfect kind of peace, the kind that wrapped itself around you and made you feel like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

And as we pulled away once more, his hands resting on my waist, I knew—whatever happened when the summer ended, this moment, this connection, was something that would stay with me. Something that I would carry long after the warmth of the sun had faded.

—

The night was calm and peaceful, the kind of evening that made you feel like you could stay outside forever. My grandmother’s villa was perched on a small hill in Tuscany, and the view from the terrace was breathtaking—endless fields of green, the soft glow of street lamps below, and the distant hum of a town that was slowly quieting down for the night.

Joel and I sat across from each other at the dinner table, my grandmother beside us. The meal was simple but delicious—fresh pasta, roasted vegetables, and a glass of red wine that had already started to loosen our tongues.

Joel looked more relaxed tonight, his smile easy and natural. Every so often, his eyes would linger on me, but he didn’t say anything outright. We had danced around it—the unspoken pull between us—but neither of us was ready to admit what was happening. It was as if we were both waiting for something to tip the balance.

My grandmother, who was always a bit of an enigma, sat across from us, watching with an air of amusement. She didn’t press us with questions, but I knew she could tell something was different. She always knew.

“So,” she said casually, cutting a piece of chicken, her eyes flicking between the two of us. “Joel, I hear you’re enjoying your time here in Tuscany.”

Joel smiled, taking a sip of his wine. “I am. It’s… beautiful here.”

My grandmother nodded. “Ah, Tuscany. It’s magical. But the most magical part is the company.” She paused for a beat, her lips curling into a mischievous smile. “Especially when you find someone who makes you feel like you’re living in a dream.”

I nearly choked on my wine, coughing lightly as I caught her meaning. She had said it with such ease, but the double entendre was clear. I shot her a look, but she only winked at me, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

Joel raised an eyebrow, sensing something in the air, but didn’t press it. Instead, he turned to me with a grin. “I think she’s got a point, y/n. It is magical here. The whole experience.”

I smiled, trying to hide the blush creeping up my neck. “Yes, it’s beautiful. But I think Nonna just likes to talk about love, even if it’s not quite the right time for that conversation,” I said with a teasing tone.

My grandmother gave a short, knowing laugh, then shifted in her seat. “Sì, y/n, parli troppo poco di amore,” she said in half Italian, half English. (Yes, y/n, you talk too little about love).

I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly what she meant, and shot Joel an apologetic look. “Ignore her,” I said, but there was no mistaking the glint of mischief in my grandmother’s gaze.

“Ah, love,” she continued, tapping her fingers on the edge of her wine glass. “It has a way of finding you when you least expect it, no?” She raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying herself. “A volte più tardi, a volte più presto—sometimes later, sometimes earlier.”

Joel chuckled, taking it all in stride. “Sounds like good advice.”

“Wise words from a very wise woman,” he said, glancing at me with a playful smile.

My grandmother smirked but didn’t say anything more, letting the conversation flow naturally. It wasn’t that she didn’t notice the tension between us; she just wasn’t pushing it. She knew how to let things unfold at their own pace, and that’s what I admired about her.

The night passed by quietly, the air cooling as we continued our meal. My grandmother, despite her subtle jokes, was content to let us be. She didn’t need to say much to let us know that she saw what was happening between Joel and me. It was written all over us. But tonight, there was no pressure, no rushing—just the gentle, unspoken bond that had begun to form.

When we finished eating, my grandmother stood up, her hands smoothing down her dress. “Well, I think it’s time for me to get some rest. You two—” she glanced at us with a playful smile, “—don’t stay out too late. Va bene?” (Alright?)

I nodded, a soft laugh escaping me. “Va bene, Nonna.”

Joel stood as well, offering her a polite smile. “Thank you for the wonderful meal. It was delicious.”

“You are welcome, Joel,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “Good night.”

As she disappeared into the house, I turned to Joel, my fingers instinctively brushing against his under the table. There was a comfortable silence now, a quiet tension that hummed between us but didn’t feel overwhelming.

“So,” I said, my voice a little quieter, “what did you think of her?”

Joel smiled, his gaze never leaving mine. “I like her. She’s… sharp. But she knows how to make you think.”

I chuckled softly. “That’s one way to put it.”

His smile softened, and he reached for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “She’s right, though, you know. About love, I mean.”

I raised an eyebrow, meeting his eyes. “How so?”

Joel leaned in just a little, the soft glow of the moonlight casting shadows on his face. “Sometimes later, sometimes earlier… maybe we don’t always get to decide when we find something worth holding on to.”

I swallowed, his words hanging in the air between us. It felt like the weight of everything unsaid, everything still untold, was starting to settle into something real.

“I think we’re both figuring that out,” I whispered, my hand still in his.

And for the rest of the evening, we didn’t need to say anything more. The quiet between us said everything that needed to be said.

—

The mornings after we got together were my favorite.

Italy had always been beautiful, always been magic—but now it was different. Warmer. Softer. Like the sun rose just for us, spilling gold across the hills and sneaking through the cracks in the wooden shutters of our small apartment. The air smelled like coffee and jasmine, and the sheets were tangled around us, skin against skin, heart against heart.

Joel wasn’t much of a morning person, but he never complained when I woke up first and ran my fingers along his jawline, tracing the scratch of his stubble. He’d just hum low in his throat, eyes still closed, and tighten his arm around my waist to pull me closer.

“You’re starin’,” he mumbled one morning, voice rough with sleep.

“You’re pretty when you sleep.”

His lips twitched. “Don’t lie to me this early.”

I laughed, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Okay. Handsome. Ruggedly handsome.”

His eyes cracked open then, dark and lazy, and he shifted just enough to roll me beneath him. The mattress dipped under his weight, and I grinned up at him as he braced himself with one arm beside my head.

“Better,” he said.

The mornings blurred into days spent wandering cobblestone streets and driving through the countryside with the windows down. The radio crackled with Italian ballads, and Joel tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as I translated the lyrics with a grin.

“She’s singing about her lover who promised her the moon and left her with nothing,” I said once, over-exaggerating the drama of it with a hand over my heart. “Ti ho amato fino alla fine! I loved you until the end!”

Joel smirked. “That so?”

“It’s very tragic.”

“Guess I better not leave you, then.”

My breath caught, and I turned toward the window, biting back a smile.

At sunset, we took our glasses of wine to the balcony and watched the sky bleed pink and orange over the rooftops. Joel leaned against the railing beside me, his arm brushing mine.

“Nonna used to sit out here every night,” I said softly. “Said the sky looked like a painting God left just for her.”

Joel’s gaze didn’t leave the horizon. “Smart woman.”

The silence stretched, comfortable and familiar, before he shifted closer. His hand found mine, warm and solid. I squeezed it and exhaled slowly, the kind of breath that settled in your chest like peace.

“Never thought I’d be here,” he said after a while.

“In Italy?”

Joel shook his head. “Here. With you.” His thumb brushed over my knuckles. “Never thought it’d feel like this.”

“Like what?” I asked, voice quieter than I meant it to be.

His jaw flexed, eyes softening when he met my gaze. “Like I can breathe again.”

My throat tightened, and I stepped into his arms without a word. He held me there, against his chest, the world fading into nothing but the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear.

Later that night, after the city quieted and the moon rose, we danced barefoot in the kitchen while pasta boiled on the stove. The record player crackled in the corner with an old Italian love song, and Joel’s hand pressed against the small of my back, guiding me in slow circles across the tile.

I sang along under my breath, the lyrics instinctive and familiar. Joel didn’t know the words, but he didn’t need to. His eyes never left mine.

“Sei il mio destino,” I whispered as the music slowed.

“You’re my destiny,” he repeated softly.

I smiled and kissed him, tasting wine and forever.

—

The beach was quiet, secluded, the kind of place only locals knew about. I had taken Joel there a few times now, and even though he pretended to be indifferent, I knew he loved it just as much as I did.

Today, he had stretched out on a towel beneath the shade of an olive tree, a book in his hands, looking as unbothered as ever.

I, however, had other plans.

Grinning to myself, I sauntered over, still damp from my last swim, droplets of water trailing down my skin. Joel didn’t even glance up as I hovered over him, too engrossed in whatever he was reading.

I huffed. “You’re really going to spend the afternoon reading instead of enjoying the water?”

He turned a page, the hint of a smirk playing at his lips. “Ain’t stoppin’ you from enjoyin’ it.”

I narrowed my eyes before dropping down on top of him, effectively pinning him to the towel.

That got his attention.

His book tipped slightly as he peered down at me, an amused exhale escaping his lips. “You tryin’ to suffocate me?”

I smirked, resting my chin on my hands as I lay against his chest. “If that’s what it takes to get you in the water, then maybe.”

Joel sighed, but there was no real protest in it. His free hand found the small of my back, resting there like it belonged, his thumb grazing my skin absentmindedly.

“You’re trouble, you know that?”

I grinned. “You love it.”

He exhaled, shaking his head before looking back at his book. I watched as his eyes skimmed the words, waiting, waiting—then I reached up and snatched it right out of his hands.

“Y/n,” he warned, reaching for it, but I was faster.

I sat up, holding the book above my head. “The book or the water, Miller. Pick one.”

He squinted up at me, like he was actually considering his options.

I laughed. “Unbelievable.” Then, before he could argue, I bolted.

Joel let out a gruff damn it before chasing after me. I ran straight into the waves, squealing as the water hit my skin, my victory short-lived because in a matter of seconds, his hands were on me, lifting me right off my feet.

I yelped. “Joel, don’t you—”

Too late.

I was tossed into the sea with a splash, the cool water swallowing me whole.

When I resurfaced, gasping, hair plastered to my face, Joel was standing there, arms crossed, watching me with a smug expression.

“Happy now?” he drawled.

I lunged, grabbing his arm and yanking him toward me.

He stumbled, cursing as he splashed into the water, the smugness wiped clean from his face.

I burst into laughter.

Joel pushed his wet hair back, shaking his head. “You’re somethin’ else.”

I grinned, swimming closer. “You love it.”

This time, he didn’t argue.

Instead, he pulled me flush against him, the warmth of his body stark against the cool waves.

And when he leaned in, pressing his lips to mine, I decided that maybe, just maybe, I had won this round after all.

—

The night was thick with summer heat, the air scented with lavender and salt from the distant sea. We had spent the evening wandering through the hills, ending up at my favorite hidden spot—a quiet overlook where the world stretched endlessly before us, rolling green and gold beneath the moonlight.

Joel stood beside me, hands in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the horizon. He had been quieter than usual tonight, but not in a way that made me uneasy. More like he was thinking about something, rolling it around in his mind, trying to decide whether or not to say it out loud.

I turned to him, smirking. “You’re thinking too hard.”

His lips quirked, but his eyes stayed on the view.

“That obvious?”

I nodded. “I can practically hear the gears turning.”

He exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. But he still didn’t look at me.

That wouldn’t do.

So I stepped closer. Just enough that my shoulder brushed against his, just enough that I could feel the heat radiating off his skin.

“Joel.” My voice was softer now. “What is it?”

He hesitated. Then, finally, he turned to me.

And for the first time since I met him, he looked uncertain.

Something shifted between us then—something unspoken, something inevitable.

I swallowed, my pulse quickening.

I had never been nervous around him before.

But now, standing this close, his gaze fixed on mine, the weight of the moment settling between us like something fragile and delicate—I suddenly felt everything.

My breath hitched as he reached up, brushing his fingers against my jaw. It was the lightest touch, barely there, but it sent a shiver down my spine.

“You make it real hard not to fall for you,” he murmured.

My heart stopped.

Then, before I could overthink it, before I could talk myself out of it—I closed the distance.

Our lips met, soft and slow, hesitant for only a second before the hesitation disappeared entirely.

Joel exhaled against my mouth, his hands finding my waist, pulling me closer. I melted into him, my fingers tangling in his shirt, the warmth of him overwhelming, grounding.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate.

It was something deeper. Something dangerous.

Something that made me wonder if maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t going to be just a summer after all.

—

The soft evening light spilled across the stone steps as we sat there, our glasses of wine nearly forgotten between us. The air was warm, with a cool breeze now and then that made the leaves rustle above our heads. The soft hum of life from the villa seemed distant, almost nonexistent in this quiet moment we were sharing.

Joel had been unusually quiet, his gaze often drifting to the horizon, his fingers lightly tapping against the glass. I knew what was on his mind. The conversation about the end of the summer hadn’t been the easiest one, and it lingered in the air between us like a weight neither of us wanted to acknowledge.

“I guess I’ve been thinking a lot about what happens after,” Joel said, his voice breaking the comfortable silence. His eyes were still distant, but his hand shifted toward mine, his fingers brushing over my skin, making my heart skip a beat.

I met his gaze, my throat tight. “Me too,” I said, swallowing the lump that had formed there. “It’s hard to imagine going back to my life without… this. Without you.”

He glanced down at our hands, which had somehow ended up intertwined, his thumb brushing across my knuckles in a comforting, almost absent way. “It’s the same for me,” he murmured. “But… it’s not like this is the first time I’ve had to leave someone behind.”

I frowned, not fully understanding. “What do you mean?”

Joel sighed, shifting slightly on the steps to face me more directly. “I travel a lot for work,” he said, his voice low. “I’m never in one place for too long. Even when I’m home, it’s for a short time before I have to leave again.”

I blinked, surprised by the revelation. “I didn’t know that,” I admitted. “You never really talked about your job.”

“I know,” he said, and there was a slight hesitation in his voice. “I don’t talk much about it. It’s… complicated.” He gave a small shrug, almost like he didn’t want to elaborate further. “But… that’s why I try not to get attached to anyone. It’s easier this way. No long-term ties, no complications.”

I nodded slowly, absorbing what he was saying. “I get it,” I replied quietly. “You have your life, your responsibilities. But it still doesn’t make this easy.”

Joel met my eyes, his gaze softening. “No, it doesn’t. But it’s not like I’m going to forget about you, y/n. This summer—” He trailed off, his hand still resting on mine, his fingers gently tracing the lines of my palm in an almost hypnotic pattern. “What we have… it’s real. Even if it’s only for now.”

I shivered slightly from the way his fingers moved, the light touch making me feel like his hands were drawing on more than just my skin. He was tracing me, memorizing me. His fingers sketched over the curve of my wrist, down to the delicate curve of my elbow, as if he was drawing something in the air only he could see.

“I’m not good at this,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not good at… saying how I feel, at letting people in.”

I nodded, understanding that more than I wanted to. I wasn’t exactly good at it either. But something about the way he spoke, the way he touched me so gently, made it feel like he was letting me in, bit by bit.

“Maybe we don’t need to figure it all out right now,” I said softly, my free hand reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Maybe we can just… be here. Together.”

Joel looked at me with a tenderness that almost broke me. Then, his fingers moved to trace the line of my jaw, then down the side of my neck, his touch light, deliberate. His hand was warm against my skin, and his eyes followed the path of his fingertips, as though he were painting a picture of me in his mind.

“I like that,” he said, voice thick with something deeper. “I like just being with you.”

His hand lingered on my neck, his thumb grazing the soft skin there before moving back to trace the curve of my collarbone. The intimacy of the gesture, the way he was touching me as if I was something precious, made my heart race.

“Does it ever scare you?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “The idea that you won’t be here after the summer?”

Joel’s hand paused, his fingers resting lightly on my skin, and he met my gaze with a mixture of sadness and understanding. “It does,” he admitted quietly. “But I don’t think we should let fear stop us from living the moments we have now.”

I swallowed, feeling that familiar ache deep in my chest. “I don’t want to say goodbye,” I whispered.

Joel’s gaze softened, and he leaned closer, his lips brushing the side of my cheek in a tender kiss. “We don’t have to say goodbye yet,” he murmured, his voice warm against my skin. “We still have time.”

I nodded, closing my eyes as his hand moved to cup my face, his thumb gently brushing over my lips. “I want to make the most of it,” I whispered, my breath shaky.

And there, under the fading light of the evening, we stayed close, letting the silence speak for us. Joel’s hand rested on my neck, his fingers slowly moving down again, tracing the lines of my body with an intimacy that felt so natural, so right, despite the uncertainty of what was to come. It was a language we spoke without words—one touch, one breath, one shared moment at a time.

[blondemrk]

wait i just saw 10 got filled so envelope 1 + mark 🪼

LATE NIGHT RAMEN

p mark x fem!reader genre angst/fluff wc 2.1k

you don’t know what stroke of bad luck led you to this, but somehow, you ended up with mark lee as your roommate.

it was supposed to be a temporary thing—just until your original housing situation got sorted out. but weeks turned into months, and now, you’re stuck with him. the boy who leaves his shoes in the middle of the living room like a trap. the boy who blasts his guitar at ungodly hours. the boy who somehow never remembers that dishes don’t clean themselves.

it’s unbearable.

“you left your laundry in the machine again,” you snap, throwing his clothes onto the couch.

mark, lying upside down on the floor for no reason, just grins at you lazily. “thanks for bringing them in.”

“that wasn’t meant to be helpful.”

but mark never takes anything seriously, so of course, he just stretches and sits up, ruffling his hair like he’s the main character in some rom-com. “you stress too much,” he teases, smirking.

“you annoy me too much.”

it’s always like this—snarky remarks, bickering over who finished the last of the cereal, and arguing about his terrible taste in music. mark has a way of pushing every single one of your buttons, and you hate that it’s so easy for him.

it starts over something stupid.

as most of your fights do.

you come home after a long day, exhausted, already feeling the weight of a million little frustrations pressing down on you. all you want is to reheat some leftovers and go to bed. but the moment you open the fridge, you realize something.

the container of pasta you made last night—the one thing you were looking forward to—is gone.

“mark!” you yell, slamming the fridge shut.

a beat of silence. then—

“yeah?”

you storm into the living room, where mark is sprawled out on the couch, scrolling through his phone like he doesn’t have a care in the world. he glances up at you, one eyebrow raised, and you can already feel irritation crawling up your spine.

“where’s my food?”

mark blinks, like he has to think about it. “oh. that was yours?”

your jaw drops. “are you serious right now?”

he has the audacity to shrug. “i thought you weren’t gonna eat it.”

“oh, right, because i just love cooking for fun and leaving food in the fridge for no reason.”

mark sits up slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “relax, dude. i’ll buy you something tomorrow.”

“that’s not the point!” you throw your hands up, exasperated. “you always do this! you take my stuff, you leave a mess everywhere, you never listen when i tell you to stop—”

mark rolls his eyes. “jesus, it’s just food.”

“no, it’s not just food, mark! it’s everything.” your voice rises, frustration spilling over. “you don’t take anything seriously! you act like everything is a joke, like it doesn’t matter if you make my life harder—”

“because you’re always looking for something to be mad about!” mark snaps, standing up now. his usual easygoing expression is gone, replaced with something sharper. “god, do you ever stop complaining?”

you recoil, heat rushing to your face. “excuse me?”

mark lets out a humorless laugh. “you act like i’m the worst person in the world just because i’m not a control freak like you. news flash, roommate, not everything has to be a life-or-death situation.”

your hands curl into fists at your sides. “maybe if you actually cared about anything, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“i do fucking care!” mark’s voice is louder now, rough around the edges. “but you—you just assume the worst about me all the time. no matter what i do, you’re always gonna see me as the guy who’s never good enough for you.”

that stuns you into silence.

your breath is uneven, your heart pounding so hard you can hear it in your ears. you don’t know when the fight stopped being about food and started being about something else. something bigger.

mark exhales harshly, raking a hand through his hair. “you know what? forget it.” his voice is quieter now, but there’s something final in it. “i’m done.”

and then he walks away, slamming his door behind him.

leaving you standing there, chest heaving, hands shaking.

and the worst part? you don’t even know if you’re still angry—

—or if you just hate the way it hurts.

but why does it hurt? you hate him.. right?

the apartment feels different after the fight.

it’s not just the silence—although that part is deafening. it’s the way mark doesn’t acknowledge you when he walks past, the way he doesn’t joke around like he usually does, the way he keeps his door shut more often than not.

for the first time since you moved in, you miss the noise. the annoying hum of his guitar, his off-key singing from the kitchen, the sound of him laughing at his own stupid jokes.

but most of all, you miss him.

and that’s the worst part.

you don’t even know how the fight escalated the way it did. one second, you were yelling about food, and the next, mark was saying things you weren’t ready to hear.

“you’re always gonna see me as the guy who’s never good enough for you.”

his words haven’t stopped replaying in your head since that night.

you hate that it stings. because it means maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t completely wrong.

it goes on for days.

the cold war. the avoidance. the awkward, heavy silence that makes the apartment feel suffocating.

until one night, when you find him on the couch.

he’s sitting there, staring at the tv, but it’s clear he’s not really watching. there’s a crease between his brows, his fingers tapping absentmindedly against his knee. his usual easygoing energy is gone, replaced by something quieter.

you hesitate.

you could go back to your room. pretend you don’t care. pretend nothing’s wrong.

or you could do something about it.

with a deep breath, you step forward. “hey.”

mark stiffens slightly, like he wasn’t expecting you to talk to him first. “hey."

silence stretches between you, thick and uncertain.

then—

“i shouldn’t have said all that,” you admit, crossing your arms. it’s not easy, swallowing your pride, but the weight in your chest won’t go away otherwise. “i was pissed, but… i didn’t mean to make it seem like i don’t—” you stop yourself. shift on your feet. “like i don’t see the things you do.”

mark exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair. he looks exhausted. “i shouldn’t have snapped either. i just… i dunno, i was frustrated. it felt like no matter what i do, you always see me as the guy who doesn’t take things seriously.”

you chew on your lip, then sit down next to him. not too close, but close enough that your knees nearly touch. “i don’t actually think that,” you say, voice quieter now. “i was just being an asshole.”

mark glances at you, amusement flickering through his expression. “yeah. you were.”

you huff, elbowing him lightly. “you’re supposed to say, ‘no, it’s okay, you’re totally justified in all things.’”

mark snorts, shaking his head. but then he leans back against the couch, exhaling. “i don’t wanna fight with you.”

you swallow. “me neither.”

another beat of silence.

then, in a voice so soft you almost miss it, mark says, “i don’t hate living with you, you know.”

your heart stumbles over itself. you turn to look at him, but he’s already focused on the tv, like it didn’t take everything in him to say that out loud

you breathe in slowly. then, barely above a whisper—

“yeah. me neither.”

and somehow, just like that, the weight between you starts to lift.

things don’t go back to normal immediately.

the tension lingers, the memory of the argument still fresh. but the ice starts to thaw—slowly, subtly.

mark stops avoiding you. you start talking to him again.

it’s not perfect, but it’s something.

and then one night, something changes.

it’s late when you walk into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. you were up studying, brain fried, stomach grumbling. you expect the apartment to be quiet, mark probably already passed out in his room.

but instead, you find him at the kitchen counter, sitting cross-legged on a stool, lazily munching on a bag of chips.

he glances up when you walk in. “yo.”

you blink at him. “what are you still doing up?”

mark shrugs, tossing a chip into his mouth. “couldn’t sleep.”

you open the fridge, searching for something edible. “are we out of leftovers again?”

mark scratches the back of his neck, looking suspiciously guilty.

you narrow your eyes. “mark."

“okay, listen, technically i ate the last of them, but before you kill me, i made ramen.”

you pause. “you made ramen?”

mark grins, pushing a bowl toward you. “consider it a peace offering. and its about all i can cook..."

you hesitate for a second, then sigh, accepting the bowl. “i guess this is a step up from you just eating my food with zero remorse.”

he smirks. “see? character development.”

you roll your eyes, but you don’t stop the small smile from tugging at your lips as you take a seat across from him.

the apartment is quiet except for the hum of the fridge and the occasional crunch of mark’s chips. you’re not sure why you’re both still awake at this hour, but for the first time in a while, it doesn’t feel awkward.

mark leans his chin in his hand, watching you eat. “hey,” he says suddenly, voice softer.

you glance up. “what?”

his gaze lingers on you for a second longer than necessary. “we’re good, right?”

something in your chest tightens.

you don’t know why, but the way he says it—like it matters—makes your stomach flip.

you swallow, setting your chopsticks down. “yeah,” you murmur. “we’re good.”

mark exhales, a small smile tugging at his lips. “cool.”

and maybe it’s the late-night haze, or the warmth of the ramen settling in your stomach, or the way mark is looking at you—not like you’re his annoying roommate, but like you’re something else—but for the first time since moving in, you think…

maybe this isn’t the worst thing in the world.

you’re both on the couch, a movie playing in the background. you weren’t even planning to watch it, but somewhere between mark saying, “just one episode, come on,” and you rolling your eyes, you ended up here—sitting too close, sharing the same blanket, the flickering light from the tv casting shadows across his face.

you’re tired. sleepy in that comfortable, heavy way where everything feels a little softer, a little less real.

mark is sitting next to you, his arm draped over the back of the couch. you should move. there’s plenty of space. but you don’t.

you’re barely paying attention to the movie when you feel it.

mark shifts beside you, stretching his arms—casual, unbothered—until suddenly, his fingers graze your shoulder.

it’s the lightest touch. a barely-there brush of skin against skin.

but it’s enough to make your breath hitch.

you tell yourself you’re imagining it. that mark isn’t really leaning in, that his gaze isn’t flickering to your lips, that the space between you isn’t disappearing.

but then—

his fingers skim your wrist, hesitant but deliberate. testing the waters.

your heart stutters.

you turn to look at him, and—god.

he’s close. too close.

his eyes flick up to meet yours, and for a second, just a second, you think—

is he going to kiss me?

the air shifts, thick with something unspoken. neither of you moves, but neither of you pulls away either.

then, the sound of a loud car horn blaring outside makes you both jolt.

the moment shatters.

mark blinks, pulling back so fast it’s like he just realized what was happening. “uh—” he clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “i should, uh. get some water.”

you swallow hard, nodding. “yeah. yeah, good idea.”

mark practically jumps off the couch, making a beeline for the kitchen.

you sit there, heart pounding, staring at the screen without really seeing it.

because something almost happened just now.

and the fact that you’re disappointed it didn’t?

that’s a whole new problem.

@chenlezip @holyhaech @mrkified @injvns @polarisjisung

did yall miss me or what..

[cxosmicxo]

valentines !!

♡ : i. midoriya, k. bakugo, s. todoroki, e. kirishima, d. kaminari, h. sero

☆ : gn!reader, slight fem!reader mention in one of denki's, established relationship, one mention of vomit, very small vocabulary omg, not edited so if you see a typo ignore it

✄ : sorry this is so late!! i hate being busy and i’ve been really busy recently💔 but there will be a new smau coming out later this week also😜😜

- in which the mha boys ask you to be their valentine !

i. midoriya

asks you like the first week of january😭

very responsible!

but hes actually so nervous to ask you even tho you guys are dating ??

almost vomits bc he’s so nervous

was gonna do it in front of your friends but he was too nervous so he did it in private

it was after school and the sun is starting to set so it’s that mix of pink and orange

he texts you telling you to meet him at the pond you guys hangout at

you’re sitting there for maybe a minute, waiting for him

and he comes up behind you with a little “boo!” bc he’s silly😝

you turn around and he’s holding flowers and there’s a little bit of snow on the petals

when he opens his mouth to talk he gets nervous and shuts up and his face is turning bright red

LMAO he turns around, takes a deep breath and turns back around with an anxious smile

“i know it’s early but… will you be my valentine?”

he shuts his eyes like he thinks you’re gonna say no loll

his heart is beating out of his chest when you don’t respond but you’re just awing at him bc he’s so cute💔💔💔

i don’t think i used awing right

he opens his eyes and he’s like “please don’t say no bc i already made a reservation”

you giggle at him and then you hug and say yes of courseeeee

and then you live happily ever after and he gives you flowers, chocolate, stuffed animal, smth you’ve been wanting for a while, and takes you out to dinner and you spend the rest of the weekend together😜

k. bakugo

wasn’t gonna ask you bc he assumed obviously you’re his valentine you’re dating🙄

until he heard your friends talking abt how their boyfriends asked

now he has to one up all of them

does it in private bc “they don’t need to be in our business” but it’s bc no one else needs to see him showing emotion besides you

actually really nervous like izuku it’s giving him a headache

begrudgingly asks his mom what to get you and how to ask you

he just shows up to your dorm and when you open the door he just barges in, shutting the door

you just stare at him confused and he huffs and rolls his eyes

“be my valentine… or whatever”

he’s basically whispering it

but if you ask him to repeat it he’ll walk away😭

you ask him where your flowers/presents are and he’s like “you gotta wait for that, greedy”

but he takes you out to dinner bc he’s had that booked since december/january but you’ll never know that🤫

he gets you flowers and candy and all that cheesy shit but he gets you smth sentimental like omg you loser😩😩😩

very sentimental and probably gave you pictures from when you first met, first started dating, and now

so cute i love him

s. todoroki

also wasn’t gonna ask you but natsuo said he HAS TO

and mina was borderline harassing him abt it lmao

honestly pretty lost and scrolls on tiktok for hourssss looking for gift ideas

he asks you around the first week of february

nothing dramatic he just asked you on a study date at your fav cafe and he brings flowers and asks you as soon as he sees you

he feels like he should be nervous but really isn’t

nonchalant dreadhead shoto

pauses before he asks bc he gets a little nervous but he knows you’ll say yes

omg if you say no as a joke he jaw drops slightly it’s so funny

but on valentine’s day he def takes you to this nice ass restaurant and you guys take cute pictures and everyone’s jealous

when you guys get back to the dorms he gives you your gift and i think he made you a boo basket bc he saw so many videos abt it

has like candy and stuff, probably a jellycat, and the essentials idk you get the point

super cuteness and you spend the rest of the night together and probably go out again the next day😜

e. kirishima

very excited he loves valentine’s day

he just loves loving you!!!

just like izuku he asks you like right after christmas

you guys probably started dating bc he asked you to be his valentine and then you lived happily ever after😝

omg yes wait

it’s the day after christmas and you guys are hanging out with your friends in the commons and he perks up randomly saying he forgot to give you a present and sprints to his dorm

most of you guys are looking at him weird but denki, mina, and sero are looking suspicious

he comes back, out of breath, and he places a medium to large sized box on the coffee table and sits back down next to you

you side eye him with suspicious and take the top off of the box

the box unfolds and there’s flowers and chocolate placed in the middle of a poster that says “all i want for christmas is you… will you be my valentine?” in what looks like mina’s handwriting😭

you gasp and pull him in a tight hug, nodding with a little “of course, you loser” and a giggle

his hands shoot up in victory yelling, “SHE SAID YES!!!” as if he just proposed to you LMAO

everyone (except bakugo bc he left when kirishima left bc he knew the present) cheered loudly and it was so silly😜

valentine’s day rolls around and you’re greeted with him holding flowers in front of your door as so as you open it

“for you m’lady, happy valentine’s day”

after school you guys go eat ofc and go to the park, acting like fools but eventually you guys go back to the dorms and he gives you your presents

he also made a boo basket and has cute sentimental stuff like a handwritten note, a photo album of you guys, and other simple basic stuff

you guys had a romcom marathon and spent the rest of the weekend together with your “extended valentine’s day”

d. kaminari

i’m torn between if he’d lwk forget and ask you the day before or if he’s had this prepared since november😭

def asks you in public and does smth extravagant

like outside your dorm with a boombox

okay so it’s february 1st and you’re finishing up getting ready for school and you’re just abt to head down to the commons

you grab your bag and you hear again by fetty wap blasting on a speaker and it’s coming closer to your room LMAO

so, confused ofc, you step out of your room and see denki holding a poster that clearly wasn’t made by him bc it’s legible, sero holding a boombox, and kirshima holding a bouquet of flowers

can you tell i think im the funniest person ever

most of your class is behind him, cheering him on bc power couple ofc

as he approaches your dorm, sero turns down the music and denki holds the poster in one hand and flowers in the other

his dramatic ass gets down on one knee

“good morning, my beautiful goddess, will-“

“did mina make that poster”

“shut up, will you make me the happiest man alive and be my valentine?”

you laugh and say yes ofc and he jumps up, drops the poster and flowers, and picks you up and spins you around while everyone cheers and takes pictures

very dramatic ofc

on valentine’s day he comes to your door in the morning and gives you flowers and chocolate that he makes you carry it around all day so these mfs know you have a valentine

after school he gives you your presents and he also does a basket thing and it’s very similar to kirishimas but def adds some pictures of himself for you to appreciate lmao

even tho he did a dramatic thing asking you out he’s pretty chill on valentine’s day and just wants you to feel your best and feel loved and appreciated

take insta pics of courseeee and everyone’s jealous and he takes your pictures and he highly trained btw

just like kirishima with the “extended valentine’s day” it’s valentine’s day until you go back to school

you’re attacked by the hip all weekend, everything is a two person job

even if you have to go to the bathroom he’ll stand by the sink

if you kick him out he’ll be curled up against the door while he waits and falls when you open the door

very cutesy very sweet makes sure he’s the best and last bf you have😜😜

h. sero

asks you in a timely manner

very responsible

could do smth extravagant and public or personal and private depending on what you want

probably makes mina ask you abt it so she can tell him

bc of that i won’t specifically describe how he asks so use your imagination to how your perfect valentines proposal would be

classic man, probably brings flowers but if you don’t like flowers or are allergic he’ll bring an alternative like stuffed/dried/lego flowers or wtv

if you want smth public and dramatic he’ll probably yell at you from down the school hallway, run up to you with a poster and loudly ask😭

if you want smth more private and personal he’ll probably ask in the same place he asked you out and have a little cute and meaningful speech

he’s pretty good with words if he wants to and makes you tear up a little bit tbh

use your imagination to fulfill the rest of your dreams <33

similar to kirishima mainly

if you prefer a fancy dinner he’ll book one but if you just wanna get food or stay in the dorms it’s wtv makes you happy bc you being happy makes him happy🤩

but on valentine’s day i’m thinking he gives you smth in the morning like a cute matching bracelet and gives you the rest of your gifts after your date

he follows you around all day and has no shame bc why wouldn’t he

like i said earlier it depends what you want like if you go to a restaurant to eat or just grab some food or stay in the dorms

but after you eat you guys watch cheesy romcoms in his dorm and he gives you your presents

also does a basket and gives you the basic things like everyone else but he does hand write a letter makes a cute thing with pictures from when you first started dating to now

he’s very sentimental tell me he’s not🙄

omg yes he gives you a collage board to hang up on your wall and it’s full of pictures of you guys and tons of memories

he does not play abt valentines LMAO

follows you around all weekend also but he does that anyways

[emsdevs]

FUCK I DID THE LAST ONE WRONG, SORRY i missed the present 😭

happy birthday, i hope you have an incredible day, and congrats on 300 !! you deserve every single one <3

could i request #7 with luke? 🎁

a/n: you're all good nonnie! thank you for requesting!! also I'm def using this as a way comfort everyone after the last celly req i answered 😬 anyway enjoy some lukey fluff!!

Prompt 7: "I want you, only you."

Birthday Celly 2025 Masterlist | masterlist

When Luke dragged you out to the dock at the lake house to watch the sunrise, you really didn’t think much of it. He was the type of guy to do cheesy stuff like this all the time. He loved buying you flowers as much as you loved to receive them. It never bothered him to be teased by his teammates or brothers about being whipped for you. He was. He’d gladly admit that, and then he’d happily tell them all that if they weren’t whipped for their partners, they just weren’t doing the whole relationship thing right. He loved making your relationship feel like all the best parts of an old rom-com, so really, barely a thought crossed your mind when he made you roll out of bed to go watch the sunrise, not even when he insisted you should wear something cute and do your makeup first. 

You’d been at the dock for just a few minutes when you wanted to tell him how much you loved sunrises at the lake, looking toward him to find him on one knee behind you. Your hands flew up to your mouth, and you could feel the teas now in your waterline, thankful that you’d miraculously chosen waterproof mascara for the day. 

“I know we’re still fairly young, but I’ve been in the NHL for five years now. I’ve been with you even longer. We’ve lived enough that I think we can settle down, and there’s no one else I’d want to do that with. I love you, and I want you, only you. I’ve known since our second date that you’d be the one I marry, the one I’d grow old with. You mean so much to me, and I never want to lose you. Will you please marry me, so I can keep showing you how much I love you for as long as I live?” He’s crying too, and he’s holding the ring box out for you. Honestly, you don’t care much about it, only wanting Luke.

“Yes! Oh my god! Yes!” you’re jumping up and down, unsure what to do with all your excitement. Luke grabs your left hand, slipping the ring onto it, before pulling you in for a soft kiss. You’re both giggling through it, basking in the happy moment. 

You hear Jack and Quinn barreling down the backyard toward you both before you see them. Soon, they’re engulfing their brother and their soon-to-be-sister-in-law in a group hug. They had woken up early to go work out and saw the two of you at the dock, waiting patiently until the proposal was complete to come congratulate you both.

taglist: @heartsforjh @alex-wotton @devilinpradaheels @juxmi @macklin-celebrini-71 @puckmedude @alexxavicry @dancerbailey3 @madebyhappymeals @beenucks @lukey-pookie-hughes43 @huggyyy43 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @pucks-goals-penalties

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[kpopflowerfield]

stolen glances | csc

ღ pairing: seungcheol! x afab!reader

ღ word count: 5.2k

ღ genre: smut, fluff,

ღ rating: nsfw! mdni

ღ warnings: dom!cheol, unprotected sex (wrap up), creampie, degradation, throat fucking

ღ networks: @k-vanity

ღ summary: You and your brother had an agreement- hookups & relationships with each others friends were off limits. Seungcheol, however wasn’t a fan of that rule.

ღ author’s note: This is part of @ddeonghwa-s Valentine’s day event! I hope you enjoyyy this Jupiter, I’m so sorry this is a few days late ㅠ_ㅠ and thank you to the amazing @lovetaroandtaemin for beta reading!

The knock on the door made a whine leave your lips. You yanked the door open and stared at Wonwoo. “Can I help you?” You asked, your voice heavy with annoyance as you looked at your brother. “Damn, didn’t mean to bother you,” He almost scoffed as you shook your head at him. “Why are you here?” You leaned against your doorframe. “I just wanted to let you know some of my friends are coming over later. I didn’t know if you would want to stick around or go out,” He watched as your body relaxed from the tense position before.

“I mean, what are you going to do?” You couldn’t help but question. “Just get take out and watch a movie. They might stay over if they bring drinks.” He shrugged. “I’m too lazy to make plans, so I’ll stay here. I don’t mind if I have to be in my room.” You bit the inside of your cheek, waiting for him to finally walk away so that you could go back to lounging on your bed. “They’ll be here in like an hour,” He called out as he walked away. You shut your door behind him and sighed.

It worked out well living with your brother. Even if you got annoyed with each other, it didn’t last long. Plus, it was much easier to deal with him than a messy roommate. Your friends would tease that it was weird to live with him, especially whenever he got a girlfriend, but it didn’t matter. There were two agreements between the two of you; one-must give a heads up at least an hour before if you’re having people over, and two- each other’s best friends are off limits.

It was easy to follow, even though one of his friends made thoughts you’ve never had before run through your mind. You’d remind yourself that the agreement only applied to hookups and relationships. So, it was completely fine that you thought of Seungcheol before bed sometimes. Obviously it was something that you would never let Wonwoo know about, but as long as you kept it the way it’s always been, with just some greetings and awkward glances, it would be fine, and he’d never ever know about it.

You heard the front door creak as it opened as well as the voices of a few of the boys. You carefully got off of your bed, tip-toeing to your door. Pursing your lips, you opened the door just enough to peek out to the living room and see who was there. It was hard to make out the boys, you were sure you saw Mingyu and maybe Soonyoung? “Is your sister joining us?” That rich voice made your heart skip a beat. Seungcheol was asking about you?

“Yah! Big dog?” You cringed at the name Wonwoo used to call you out. “Yes?” You opened your door, hoping no one would notice the way it was cracked open moments before. “You joining us?” He looked at you. You looked in between the four boys that all had their eyes on you. “I don’t want to intrude on you guys,” You stayed by your door. “Nonsense, come join us,” Seungcheol patted the couch next to him. “Alright,” You smiled softly at the gesture, keeping your composure as your heart was beating faster than ever.

“There’s pizza on the counter,” Soonyoung smiled over at you. “Here I’ll grab you some,” Wonwoo stood up and walked over. “Wow, such a nice brother,” Vernon teased. “You wouldn’t get up to get Sophia pizza?” Wonwoo squinted as he handed you your plate. “Depends,” He nodded. You tried not to laugh at the boys bickering with each other. “Thank you, beanie,” You spoke over them as Wonwoo nodded at you.

You finished eating and stood up, placing your plate in the sink. “Thank you for the food! I’m gonna let you have your time,” You walked away. It wasn’t just that you wanted them to have their time, but you couldn’t relax next to Seungcheol. You could feel his eyes shifting over every couple of seconds, and your attempts to ignore it weren’t working. You pushed your hair back as you stepped in your room. Taking a deep breath, you grabbed everything you needed and walked to the bathroom but stopped in the living room. “Use Wonwoo’s bathroom!” You called out to them, fighting the noise of the movie that would definitely give you a noise complaint.

You washed up and wrapped the towel around you, feeling like the thoughts you were having of Seungcheol were cleansed out of your mind. A sigh left your lips as you walked down the hall and into your room. You dropped the towel and turned, jumping back. “Sorry, I had to come in here,” Seungcheol apologized, his eyes wandering your body as he spoke. “Oh, it’s no problem.” Your cheeks were burning as you avoided eye contact.

His eyes still lingered on you. “What?” You leaned down and grabbed your towel that you tossed, wrapping it around your body quickly. “I actually wanted to talk to you.” He looked at you, hiding his stutter as he spoke. You nodded, waiting for him to speak up. “I want to take you out. I see the way you look at me, and I was hoping it’s in the same way I steal my own glances,” His voice was soft and shy in a way. Your heart fluttered, but you shook your head no. “I promised Wonwoo. I’m not going back on my word to him.”

“Promised him what?” He raised an eyebrow. “His friends are off limits from relationships and hookups, same goes with mine. We’ve kept it that way for years,” You walked to your door, opening it so he would get the hint. “Fuck the promise, I’ve been wanting to tell you how I feel for a while, but this is the first time I’ve been alone with you. And, it’s Valentine’s day, so I want to take you out,” His voice was soft, but there was a slight tint of annoyance at the idea of your promise to your brother.

“I’m sorry Cheol, but we’ve had it for years, and I would never go back on it.” You sounded apologetic in your head, and you hoped he understood. “I know, but just one date, please?” He looked at you, a tinge of desperation in his eyes. “Cheol…” You started. “Just one. It would never be discussed; it would be our own little secret. Okay?” His soft eyes made you want to yell out how bad you wanted him.

“If I say yes, will you leave?” You questioned him. The towel you were holding onto for dear life was becoming uncomfortable to have a conversation in. “I’d love it if you said yes,” He tried to shrug it off. “Fine, you should have my number. Just text me,” You stood by your door, waiting for him to leave so that you could finally dress yourself. As soon as he left, your door closed. Your back leaned against the door as you exhaled a breath you were holding. That was when it finally hit you that Seungcheol asked you out. A grin spread on your face, and it was one that couldn’t be removed easily.

Leading up to the date, you had to remind yourself that it was just one date, nothing more, and it would be your little secret. It was a quick bite to eat with a friend. At least, that’s what you were telling yourself, and the wording you used to tell Wonwoo. Even though Wonwoo started to tease you about a secret Valentine’s day date, you kept denying it, not wanting him to catch on to your secret. Just a meal, and you would be on your way back home, yet there you were, standing in his apartment late at night. Looking at him and at a loss for words.

“I thought this was just a date?” You questioned as he walked to his bedroom. “I can drop you off at home then.” He spoke carefully, but it sounded like a tease. You bit the inside of your cheek. The thought of following him was soothing to your mind, but all you could hear was Wonwoo, almost like a disappointed whisper in your ear. “Okay,” You finally responded after moments of silence. He walked out of his bedroom, and a tight shirt replaced the dress shirt he was wearing before.

You swallowed hard. The spandex material hugged his biceps and his chest, making it hard to agree to go home. “Want to go home?” He raised an eyebrow as your eyes locked with his. “Well what did you have in mind?” You cocked your head and he stared down at you. “That’s all up to you love,” A smirk was hidden in the smile. “I don’t want to be friends with benefits.” You responded quickly.

He seemed surprised. “I don’t want that either.” He nodded at you. “Well I mean, if that’s clear then.” Your cheeks flushed as you looked at him. He watched you, examining every movement you were making. “Kiss me,” You were close to a whisper. “I thought you wanted to go home,” he teased. “Tease me later, kiss me now.” The demand slipped out of your mouth. His hand rested on your shoulder as his pointer finger was feeling the side of your neck.

It felt like a flame was ignited as he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours. “How about I take you home?” He moved away as his lips ghosted yours. “W-what?” You stuttered. “Well, I feel like I shouldn’t fuck on the first date that I had to beg you to come on,” He walked to the kitchen counter, grabbing his keys. You were lost for words, unsure of what you could even say to him. “I mean, you didn’t have to beg,” You were desperately trying to say the right words for him to stay. “I did a little bit,” He put his hands in his pockets. “I did want you to ask me out. I just didn’t want to be easy,” You shrugged.

“Mhm,” he grumbled. You realized there was no way to win this fight. “Anyways…” You started, looking over at him leaned against the wall. “Let me take you home, before Wonwoo somehow figures out you’re with me,” He chuckled as you nodded. “I really enjoyed myself tonight,” Your voice was soft as you felt defeated, knowing there was nothing you could say to make him change his mind. “I did too.” He held his keys in his pocket and opened the door for you. You thanked him shyly as he drove you back to your place.

“I would walk you to the door, but y’know. Gotta keep it a secret,” He teased as you shook your head at him. “Thank you for being my valentine,” His voice was soft. “Thank you for asking me to be yours,” Your tone matched his as he nodded. “Text me when you’re inside.” He shifted into park as you nodded. “I’ll see you around Cheol.” You waved and shut the door and walked upstairs quickly. “Where the hell have you been?!” Wonwoo’s scolding started as soon as you twisted the door knob open.

“Oh, come on,” You whined as he sighed. “You told me it was just a quick dinner and left at like four-thirty and now it’s almost midnight. I was worried you like…died or something…” His voice disappeared at the sentence. “Awe, you were that worried?” You teased him as you walked towards your room. “Y/N?” His raised voice was a whisper now. “What?” You looked over at him. “You weren’t with Seungcheol, were you?” He raised an eyebrow as his head cocked to the side. “What?!” Your eyes widened. “I had to check your location because y’know.” He shrugged. “Anyways, as I was looking to make sure you were still actively moving, it looked like you were at Seungcheol’s place.”

You felt your heart stop beating as your blood ran cold. The guilt that was gnawing at you since this morning was beginning to swallow you whole. “Maybe my friend lives in the same building? But no. I haven’t seen him since you invited him over,” You shrugged. “Okay, I just wanna make sure you’re still keeping your promise, because if not… I’ll take Eunha’s number,” he teased, and you whined. “Wow, sounds like someone else is thinking of breaking the promise,” you giggled at him before shutting your door and letting your body mold to your mattress.

Y/N: I am home safe :) Thank you again for tonight. I really enjoyed the meal and being with each other for once!

Seungcheol (Wonwoo’s friend): Of course. I know I begged you to come, so I’m glad you did enjoy yourself. I would love to go out with you again :)

You swallowed reading the last few words. It was supposed to be just one and done, but he was pulling you back in. You blinked and saw the glimpses of the way he looked as he was driving you home. God, the shirt he was wearing made it hard for you to look away, and him driving was so attractive it made even you question if that was a sane thing to find ridiculously hot.

Y/N: I’d love to go out again, buuuut my brother thought i died because I came home so late and saw I was at your place. I don’t want to break my trust with him.

Seungcheol (Wonwoo’s friend): Then next time I’ll sneak into your place ;) How’s that?

Your cheeks were burning at the thought of being so sneaky. It made your heart race with the excitement of being with Seungcheol one on one again, but at the same time the speed of your heartbeat was also from the anxiety of lying to someone you’ve trusted since birth.

Y/N: Next time you come over for a movie we can find an excuse. How’s that?

Your fingers were typing faster than they ever had before as you sent each message, not wanting to leave too much of a gap for him to come up with a new suggestion for the two of you to be alone together.

Seungcheol (Wonwoo’s friend): That works for me, pretty girl

A burning sensation spread through your body as you read his message, since the name ‘pretty girl’ wasn’t something you expected to read in a message from him. You took a deep breath before putting your phone away for the night. The thoughts of Seungcheol still ran through your mind, both the clean ones and the dirty ones that made you think about your very short time in his apartment. You kept cursing yourself mentally for how awkward you were in the situation.

It felt like weeks had gone by since you’d seen Seungcheol. It felt like he lived at your apartment with you for the longest time, but now that your interest in him was growing, it felt like he wasn’t here enough. The heavy knock on your door didn’t annoy you this time, since you knew it was Wonwoo, and you knew it would be a heads up about his friends coming over. “Yes?” You answered the bump on your door. “Hey, Cheol, Vernon, Soonyoung and Joshua are coming over in like an hour and a half. Okay?” He leaned on your door frame as you nodded. “Yeah that’s fine, I don’t mind,” You nodded.

Wonwoo didn’t want to say anything, but he was weirded out by the more cheerful tone you used when you answered him. “Is everything alright?” He raised an eyebrow as you nodded, looking over at him from your bed. “Yeah, I’m all good,” You nodded as you swallowed. “Okay…” He wasn’t fully convinced as he shut the door behind him.

It was routine at this point, they’d come over, then have a bite to eat and share with you while you and Seungcheol exchanged secret glances. You stopped your thoughts as you stood up. “Have fun, all of you. I’m going to hang out in my room.” You smiled at all of them, making sure your eyes didn’t linger on Seungcheol for too long. Like clockwork, an action movie turned on, volume at full blast as you shut your door behind you.

Seungcheol: Gimme a minute. I’ll be with you

Your heart fluttered at the message as you sat down on your bed, anxiously waiting for the door to open. “You alright in here, princess?” The voice made your eyes shoot over to him. “Mhm, did anyone see you?” You questioned as the door shut behind him. He shook his head quickly. “I was careful.” He almost glided over to your bed next, wrapping his arm around you as he sat down.

“I was thinking,” You started. “About what?” He nodded for you to continue. “I left off at an awkward part for us the other day. Could I make it up to you?” You kept your voice down, speaking in a whisper. Even if the boys couldn’t hear you over the blasting movie, it still felt safer to whisper. “Make it up in what way?” He raised an eyebrow as he studied you. His eyes never shifted as you spoke. “Let’s see where it goes,” You shrugged and leaned over to lay your lips on his. He didn’t even flinch for a moment as he kissed you back, letting your lips melt together.

“How about you lay down?” He growled, making his question come out as a demand. The shift made you swallow as he crawled over you, aiding you in lying down fully. His lips latched back onto yours, his hands feeling every part of your body and making a knot form in your stomach. “Cheol…” You mumbled against his lips. “Hm?” He hummed against the soft, sensitive skin on your neck. “W-we have to be quiet,” You stuttered as you felt his teeth grazing your skin. “I can stay quiet, can you?” He chuckled against you.

In one quick, sharp movement his hands were under your clothes, grabbing at your breasts. Your breathing was growing heavier as you felt his hands kneading into your breast and pinching at the pebbled flesh. “F-fuck Cheol,” You whined. “Quiet,” His voice was nothing but teasing as he continued toying with your nipples. He could feel the heat pooling in between your thighs as he hovered over you. He bit the inside of his cheek, removing his hands from you as he stood up.

You couldn’t help yourself as you sat up quickly, studying him to find out why he moved. “Come here,” He demanded, using his fingers to enforce himself. You nodded, getting off your bed slowly. “On your knees,” He instructed as you nodded, following what he was telling you. He moved closer so you could see his cock. “Make me cum,” He smirked. “W-what?” You sputtered, not expecting this sudden version of him. “You want to make it up to me, right?” He raised an eyebrow as you looked up at him. “Make me cum.”

He stared at you, making it clear he was not repeating himself. You nodded as he pulled down his pants. You looked up at him, searching for his eyes. You took his length in your hand, moving your hand on his shaft. Your surprise at his size was hidden as you didn’t want to play with him for too long. Seungcheol watched as your lips parted and took his length. The warmth your mouth was giving him made him grunt quietly. You kept your pace slow as you adjusted to his thick cock in your mouth.

He interlaced his hand in your hair as he held it. “You can go a little faster.” His words came across like a taunt instead of an ask. You couldn’t even hum in response before he started to push his cock in your mouth and pick up the pace you had set. Your eyes watered as you tried to hold onto him. “Fuck,” He cursed. “Look at you, such a good slut taking my cock like that.” He smirked. He watched your face as you gagged, then pulled out, allowing yourself a moment to breathe.

You coughed and took shallow, staggered breaths. He barely gave you a minute before he started fucking your throat again. The garbled sobs that left your mouth were hard to silence. His hand was gripping the back of your head to keep you still as he thrusted. He kept his relentless and brutal thrusts to your throat as you gagged. He stopped out of nowhere and pulled out. You panted, holding your head down as you tried to catch your breath. You heard a knock on your door and wiped the drool coming from your mouth. “Y-yes?” Your voice had a rasp to it now from what your throat just endured.

“Have you seen Seungcheol?” You heard Joshua on the other side of the door. “No!” You responded quickly and stood by the door, waiting to hear his footsteps receding from the door. You turned to look at Seungcheol who had a smirk that couldn’t be removed from his face as he looked at you. “Good answer.” He watched you like prey as you walked back over to him. “I need a break,” You kept panting quietly. You watched as he pouted for a split second before he stood closer to you, leaning down to whisper. “Not yet I’m not done with you, doll,” he rasped in your ear. You tried to hide your expression, but it was impossible with how fast your eyes widened hearing him.

“Put your hands on the wall,” He nodded towards the bare wall next to your bed. You nodded slowly and did as he said. There was so much tension that filled the room as you stood there waiting for him. A hard smack came down on your ass, and there wasn’t a chance for you to react to his impact on your skin before feeling his throbbing head rubbing on your cunt. “You’re soaked, baby, you like it when I’m rough?” He taunted as you nodded weakly against the wall. He pushed on your back to form an arch. “P-please be gentle,” you begged as he chuckled in response.

“I’ll do what I want,” he replied as he grabbed your hips and shoved his length inside. A loud moan escaped your lips. “Quiet,” he ordered as you nodded. The feeling of him was making you want to cry out. You couldn’t take it inch by inch as he shoved himself deep inside within seconds his thick cock making your pussy stretch for his size. “You feel so good,” he grunted as he thrusted in and out of you.

You covered your mouth to muffle your sobs from his relentless thrusts. “C-Cheol,” you whined in pleasure. “F-fuck you feel so good,” you cried out. His hand teased your throat as you moaned out in pleasure. “We don’t want them hearing us, do we?” He teased as his fingers pressed on the sides of your throat, squeezing as you gasped for air. “We’re going to be quiet now, right?” He kept pounding his hips into yours as you weakly nodded. His grip on you released from your throat before reattaching to your hips.

You pressed your lips together, withholding your moans as he pounded in and out. “You feel so fucking good,” he grunted as your walls fluttered around his length. “I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered as he picked up his pace, coming close to his own orgasm. “Cum in me,” you moaned quietly. He blinked hearing your words, not expecting them to be said. He didn’t respond as he kept pounding into you, his hips smacking into you. “God, Cheol,” you whined.

You felt your knees weakening from your position on the wall as he grunted. “You’re such a good fuck doll,” he chuckled as you moaned his name softly. You swallowed, feeling the wave come over you, letting out a muffled moan as you came. His hips stuttered as he grunted, the warm thick liquid filling you. He pulled out and walked to your bathroom, grabbing something to wipe himself off with. Your knees buckled as you slid down. “You’re such a mess,” He tsked as he walked over to you. “Here,” He handed you a tissue.

“I have to go back out there, m’kay?” He looked down at you as you nodded. “O-okay,” You stuttered, catching your breath. He quickly slipped out of your room as you stood up, taking a moment between each step. “Y/N!” You heard Wonwoo’s cry and sat up. “Yeah?” You called back out. There was that guilty feeling again. “What the fuck was Seungcheol doing in your room for so long?!” He yelled out. “What do you mean?” You felt your throat tighten, just like they did when his friend was over. “You know what I mean,” He appeared in your door frame, and you jumped.

“Wonwoo…” You started as he shook his head. “What was he doing?” His jaw tightened as you swallowed, lost for words as he shook his head. “Unbelievable,” He mumbled. “What?” You groaned, you hated when he mumbled and refused to repeat himself. “Listen, I don’t actually want to know what the two of you were doing. I just want you to be fucking honest,” he lectured as you nodded. “Was he your date the other night?” He raised an eyebrow as he questioned you. “We just went out as friends.” You quickly tried to recover as he nodded.

“I don’t want you to see him again.” He shook his head as you looked at him. “What?” You spat. “You heard me,” His voice was serious as you nodded. “Right… so even though I’m a grown adult, you’re telling me I can’t see someone?” You scoffed. “We have a deal.” He held his head as you nodded. “You think I don’t know that?” You tried to relax, not wanting to fight as he nodded. “Good night, Wonwoo.” You pulled your covers over and turned your back towards him. He had more to say, but he needed you to cool down. “Yup.” He slammed the door behind him.

Your phone buzzed, and you saw Seungcheol’s name flash. “Hello?” You answered. “Why did Wonwoo just tell me I can’t come over anymore?” He questioned as you sighed. “He’s onto us, and he doesn’t want us to see each other anymore,” Your voice was almost a whisper. “You’re serious?” Cheol’s tone was flat as you hummed in response. “You’re a grown woman. Why the fuck would he try and stop us?!” He spoke quickly and angrily. “I don’t know, I don’t even think I can say something to him,” you sighed. “I will.” You could hear him grab his keys. “Don’t do something stupid,” you spoke quickly, then heard the tone of the call ending.

You stood up quickly, pacing on what Seungcheol could’ve met. You heard the knock on the front door and swallowed. “What are you doing here?” Wonwoo sounded surprised and offended that he was at the door. “Y/N, come here,” Seungcheol’s soft voice called out for you as you reluctantly walked out. “Why are you telling us we can’t see each other?” Seungcheol gestured towards you as Wonwoo’s eyes stayed glued on you. “Seeing each other?” He raised an eyebrow. “It was a date,” Your voice was soft as Wonwoo nodded.

“Y/N and I have a promise to each other. We’ve had it for years,” Wonwoo started. “Fuck that,” Seungcheol groaned. “Cheol,” You spoke softly as he ignored you. “Is that how you feel too?!” Wonwoo looked at you, getting pissed at Seungcheol’s words. “No, I just… I don’t know,” You sighed. Wonwoo raised an eyebrow as you sighed. “I never wanted to break our promise, but I can’t deny my feelings for him. I’ve had them for a long time, but I didn’t want to go back on our agreement. It’s hard, okay?” You started to get upset. “Hey, it’s going to be okay baby,” Seungcheol’s voice was soft.

Wonwoo swallowed, becoming uncomfortable with the interaction between the two of you. “I’m sorry, Wonwoo. I can give you anyone’s number.” You tried to make the situation feel better. “I don’t get it.” Wonwoo scoffed and walked to his room. “Go home, Seungcheol.” He shut his door behind him. You watched Wonwoo, a pit in your stomach as you saw him shut his door. You never wanted to hurt him or betray him in any way, but getting in the way of your feelings blinded you from his feelings. “Y/N, you okay?” Seungcheol broke through the silence in the living room.

“Get home safe,” You looked at him, walking to the door. “I’m sorry,” He looked at you as you nodded in response. He walked out, shutting the door behind him as you got back to your room and curled up under the blankets.

It was awkward between you and Wonwoo for weeks. You started going into the kitchen at different times to avoid making food together, his friends didn’t come over anymore, and there was no heads up about when the other was leaving. It hurt realizing how badly you went back on your word with him. Seungcheol checked in with you every day, making sure you were okay and not overly upset. Your guilt disappeared when you talked with him. He took your mind off of all of your worries and had you talk about everything positive.

Cheol: Hey love, how are you feeling today?

Y/N: I’m alright, how are you?

Cheol: I’m okay. Can we meet at the coffee shop near your place? I want to see your beautiful face.

Y/N: Absolutely.

You smiled at his message and stood up, getting ready quickly to meet him. You opened your door, seeing Wonwoo in the kitchen you quickly walked out, avoiding eye contact. “Wait, Y/N!” He called out. You winced and turned. “Yes?” You stood near the door. “I’m sorry. Please have fun with him, and be safe.” His voice was soft. You smiled softly at his words and walked out to meet Seungcheol.

“Hey!” You heard his voice call out for you as walked over, pulling the chair out from across him. “How are you, pretty girl?” He smiled softly, watching you sit down. “I’m good, and you?” You smiled. “Missing you.” He smiled at you, studying your features as if you were a work of art. “I’m sorry I made things awkward,” He looked at you in guilt. “It’s okay, he apologized. I think he’s changed,” You nodded. “I hope,” He smiled softly at you. “Can I ask you something?” He looked at you with soft, round eyes. “Of course, Cheol. Anything,” You grinned at him. “I hope it isn’t too late for me to ask, but would you be my girlfriend?” He smiled at you. “I would love to,” You grinned at him.

[kimingyuslover]

You once mentioned his group name, and now he's down bad for you. The worst part? his teammates seem to always tease him about it, but the best part? you answer his message.

★ omg, last chapter, i want to thank y'all who's been following this multichapter smau, might be doing it again (later). This chapter makes me feel very, very, asdfjklb, and also, it was supposed to be posted on Valentine's, but my ass having a writer-block 😀

previous | finished | main masterlist

YOU MAKE ME WANNA MAKE YOU FALL IN LOVE ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Sunday, 15th December 2023

All eyes on him, in every corridor he passes by, he can feel them, from the way all the staff began to stop their activity to the whisper he heard in each step he takes.

The tudding sound he makes from his urbinoblack calf leather shoes from Christian Louboutin that he paired with white crisp button-up and black slack echoes among the silent walls beside him, his aventus creed perfume can be smelled miles away.

His heart is thumping loudly against his ribcage. He's definitely doesn't know how it could end like this, and how the photos of him and you from last night got leaked.

Maybe he needs to file a lawsuit on them, how does the life he lives in have so little of privacy?

Seungcheol hesitates for a moment before opening the meeting room, and when he does all the eyes of the people inside the room gone to him.

He takes a seat, sitting in between his managers, when he looks up, the director irises already on him.

He arch his his left eyebrow as if waiting for him to explain all the rumors that have been surrounding him about the dinner with a female star.

"Yes, i went on a dinner with her, i don't know where's our relationship is going to, but i'm certain that i like her" The director of management team nodded his head slowly.

He opened his mouth, "Okay, so now we don't have to publish a statement because you guys are not official yet, just do a damage control on your SNS"

The meeting unexpectedly ends so smoothly. It's like they're on a meeting for SEVENTEEN's next comeback if he didn't know any better.

Seungcheols walks towards the practice room and finds his members there practicing their rehearsal for GDA 2024.

"How's the meetings going?" Jeonghan said when he saw him through the mirror, and the members start gathering Seungcheol.

He cracked a smile to his members, asking what did he do in the last life, and now he's given a very caring coworkers who he treats as a family and they treated him like one too.

"It's okay, they said that i don't have to make a statement," He pauses for a moment, "but i have to do damage control on my SNS"

He calls out for Mingyu, and before he can respond, the leader tells him to have lunch and take pictures of him so he can post it.

Mingyu's not the one who can deny what his hyung asks, so he nods his head with a smile because the oldest member also told him that he will buy his favorite perfume for him.

You don't know how many times you sigh today. Every dress you pick seems too casual or too formal, and you don't even know why you would even overthink that. It's not like you have a crush on Seungcheol, right? At least that is what you say to yourself.

Well, unfortunately for you, the paparazzi is still here in front of your agency building, waiting for confirmation from you because they don't have one from Seungcheol's side.

And maybe fortunately enough, the building has a back door, so you can go to your little brunch date (is it a date?) without the photographers knowing.

"Hi, sorry traffic has gone crazy this day," Seungcheol said as soon as he met with your eyes in the cafe both of you had agreed before.

You sahek your head while smiling softly, "No, no, it's okay. i actually just got here, too." After he sat down, you handed him the menu so he could order with you.

Not long after, the waitress comes to your table, ready to pick up the order, so you tell her your pick of food and drink while Seungcheol do the same.

When the waitress left, you continued the coversation, but before you could open your mouth, Seungcheol had already cut you off.

"I saw it you know, the haters on your comments section, i apologize for that." He then takes both your hands on his, looking straight in your eyes to show the sincerity of his words.

You laugh it off, "It's fine, we know fans these day, it's definitely understandable. I mean, have you seen you? i's be dead if i knew my bias. Who looks like you are hanging out with a woman and the dispatch wrap it on a 'Dating scandal'" As you make the quote in the air gestures to Seungcheol, the drink have arrived and both of you take a sip.

"We are on a date, don't you think?" He bits his lower lip while looking at you with hesitation. Before you can even answer him, he opens his mouth again, "I'm sorry, but i've been liking you since ever the first time you mentioned seventeen on Youngji's show, and i take you to that dinner and this brunch because i want us to meet in person, and i also want it to be a date"

He does that in one breath, oh wow.

"You think so? Don't get me wrong, i'm definitely taken interest in you since our first interaction when you texted me that night." Now it's you who's getting nervous, you can feel the chill air between you.

"So, a date it is." He finalizes his words, "Should we schedule another date this week, princess?" The nickname he gives you made your blood creep on your cheek, and it's embarrassing.

You don't think you can answer him without stuttering, so you nodded your head slowly.

Saturday, 5th October 2024

The end, xoxo

[cherie-doll]

hear me out.. cod men with a loser male reader boyfriend.. like reader never goes outside, doesn’t do but sit and play video games for hours has poor social skills and probably smells bad but they still love him regardless.. totally nto self projecting!! hehe!!! >_<

i think you called everyone out w/ this one xd

( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

☆ Price doesn't understand what the term 'losercore' means and only describes you as a quiet man when asked about you. He may not be able to relate to you in that way a whole lot, but what he looks forward to when he comes back home is finding you there waiting for him. He knows you almost never leave the house which is sort of a comfort for him when all he wants to do is to hold you, and he's always certain you're there.

★ Ghost loves that you hate going out. He doesn't care if you believe you truly are a loser because you've just bought another video game after getting bored of all your other ones. You're his loser and that's all that matters. Honestly, between you and him, I don't think there would be a single word spoken throughout the entire day. You've been sitting in front of your pc all day and he's been switching between napping and going on his phone. Talk about spending quality time with your partner.

☆ Soap is the opposite of everything you are. He isn't quiet, at all, there is nothing subtle nor discreet about him. Yet, there was something about you that he found charming. Under that messy, unbrushed hair that covered tired eyes and dark eyebags, he was into that. Maybe it was your slow, deliberate manner of talking whenever you were forced to talk to people that had him hypnotized. Despite you being so tired from staying up all night trying to speedrun a game, your sleepy voice sounds oddly attractive to him.

★ Gaz is the pretty boy you've had your eyes on for a while. But how does a loser get their crush to notice them? You had resigned to just observing him, your heart beating softly within your chest whenever he walked by. Even though you were considered opposites in some ways, it's sort of what pulled him to you; like a magnet. It started out with small things, him gently tugging on your shirt, your eyes travelling down to where his fingers were pulling. What you weren't aware of, is that he was silently watching your reactions, his lips curling up in a smile.

☆ Roach understands the not wanting to socialize much part. He himself isn't the best with his social skills but didn't think he'd meet someone more introverted than himself until he saw you. When he noticed you, he knew right away you were someone he wanted to get close to, he just didn't know how. And with both of you being hesitant to approach others first, it took a lot of circling hoping the other would take the first bold step. Eventually, he just sent you a friend request online and that's how y'all started talking. Now, you two can just be in the same room together, not having to talk but instead slipping into a comfortable silence and enjoying one another's company.

★ Alejandro will always tease you a lot whenever you do decide to come out of your room. You always look so out of place stepping into the bright living room where he's drawn the curtains aside, opened the windows to let fresh air in and you're standing there in your pajamas, wet hair from having just taken a shower, blinking trying to get your eyes adjusted to the sudden change in lighting. You just came out of your cave because you recognized the smell of something good cooking in the kitchen.

☆ Rudy is lowkey down bad for you. Even you are confused as to how he's into someone who can't speak coherently when you really do want to respond back to him. If it weren't for him, every surface of your room would be filled to the brim with old cups and dishes with leftover food. And you don't know how to react to his affection or acts of love, you've never had anyone pining over you. Still, you have your own little ways of showing you love him even if you can't say it. Like burying your face into his neck when you feel bored, like you're sick of just sitting around, none of your comics are interesting but you're not desperate enough to go outside so you've only got your boyfriend to comfort you.

★ Phillip would LOVE someone he can provide for and do things for. So, you two are perfect for one another. He doesn't ever have to worry about keeping track of your location when you go out because you don't leave the house. Don't ever think of getting a job because he much rather prefers to find you home on his days off. The only thing he "struggles" with is when you act like your little games are a lot more interesting than him. He'll be asking you questions about your day and your answer are unintentionally dry and short, not because you're annoyed at him, you just don't have much to tell him.

☆ Makarov likes keeping you around like a cat; you do your own thing but will let him set you on his lap, pet your head while you're absorbed in gaming or watching something. If you ever try to stand up to get away from him so you can go back to your cave, he'll drag your ass back asking where you're going. He may critique the alarming number of hours you have logged on each of your games, you could have spent that time with him. Yes, he sulks over that, although he'd never admit the real reason why you pc sometimes won't run a new game you just bought knowing you're about to pull another all-nighter playing it when you could be cuddling up in bed with him.

★ Keegan can't stand to see you stay inside all the time. Sure, he's also a quiet guy but unlike you he can socialize when he needs to, it's just rare for him to do so. Sometimes, he'll forcibly take you out, there's not many places you're fond of going but he considers it a win if you sit contently through the car ride. Your only excitement is when another package you ordered arrives and you'll be inside for a minimum of two days enjoying that new thing you bought.

☆ König will listen to you go on and on all day about your hyperfixations and interests. Since you barely go out, you don't talk to many people, and the one person who listens to you has the unfortunate fate of having to sit down and just nod along even if he doesn't understand anything at all. That person is König. He's not the fondest of video games, not that he hates them, he just never got the hang of them and would much rather watch you play. He'll let you talk his ear off as you excitedly tell him about anything really.

★ Horangi likes being mean to you. He knows how much you HATE having the big light on in your room, because you only ever turn on your LED lights and it also messes you up when playing video games. The menace will walk in and stand ominously by the light switch until you notice and he flips the switch and you have to cover your eyes before you go blind. Other than that he loves spending time with you, will order delivery and sit with you to play video games or watch some series or movie you're both addicted to. He himself was a loser at some point so he still has loser tendencies.

☆ Nikto doesn't care much about what you do to occupy yourself when he's not around, but on days he is home, he prefers to pull you away from your video games and spend your day with him. You don't mind spending time with your boyfriend, but he's clingy... will watch and question everything you do when your attention isn't directed at him. Why do you keep sitting at your desk? What could be so interesting on that computer? You don't work... then why do you spend so much time on a silly video game as if it paid you? He'll sit next to you, staring at the screen as you play, not knowing what exactly he's looking at. But if it's interesting to you, then it should be to him as well.

[imsofreakingtired]

YK WHAT.. i have been wondering.. have you ever thought about the serious characters in arcane dealing with reader with a similar personality as deadpool? (i rlly wanna know how would sevika or vi react lmao)

so i've never seen Deadpool, but i searched up his mbti and apparently he's an ENTP? so here are some Sevika x ENTP!reader headcanons :)

Sevika x ENTP!reader

**based on external research (i spent 15 minutes looking at istp x entp memes.)

every day is a constant challenge of you attempting to fluster Sevika and Sevika being utterly unfazed (she is dying on the inside.) one day your own plan backfires on you trying tease her—you’ve got her backed against a wall, holding the lapel of her coat, pulling her close: when she suddenly grabs your arm, turns you around, pushes you against the same place where she was a second ago. smirks as she watches you absolutely lose your shit

she lowkey encourages your daily chaotic evil schemes. will always pretend to disapprove of them but follows begrudgingly, ready to swoop in and clean things up if you run yourself into a deeper problem than intended. 

“hey ugly rat” (sevika) “hey hideous goon” (you) (this is your love language.) (you are both simps for each other but would never never admit it)

she keeps you grounded when you start to fly off the handle.  

she is also exasperated by your tendency to make jokes out of every situation. like one time you get into a really bad fight and she finds you bleeding out in the street. damn near dies of a heart attack at the ripe age of 41. as she’s patching you up you laugh weakly and crack a joke and she just shoots you a death glare, which is all you need to see to realize just how badly you scared her. 

modern au: you both have a taste for the spontaneous. you’re both repulsed by routine and feeling controlled. entp!reader x Sevika dating includes: not going to the same food place twice. escape rooms. rage rooms (she got banned from three and counting from taking things too far). martial arts classes (she also gets banned from those).

she calls you dumbass (affectionate) and darling (condescending.) 

whenever you start ranting or go off on a tangent in the middle of a tight situation she’ll snap “get to your point.” 

but on quiet days when you want to just ramble to her she’ll sit and listen (or at least pretend to) while she fixes her arm or rolls a cigarette

you are always late to every appointment. she is always early. she starts telling you to meet her half an hour earlier than the designated time. 

you like to team up with Jinx to bully her 

she cackles at the dad jokes you came up with to be ironic

her favorite time of day is when you’re falling asleep in her arms because that’s the one time you’re quiet and soft and let your guard down. it’s rare to see you vulnerable without your joking exterior and she’s filled with this desperate urge to protect you from everything 

you like to pick really dumb fights with her for fun: Sevika: that’s it. I’m not having a stupid argument with you anymore. You: water is not wet Sevika, whirling around: how the FUCK is water not wet?? It’s water—

you are chronically bored. she is chronically tired. this results in you sometimes waking her up at 3 in the morning trying to cook a recipe you saw online or start an ambitious obstacle course project in the living room and she just stands in the doorway trying to decide if it’s worth getting mad or just going back to sleep. 

she’ll drag you away from fighting someone in the last drop who insulted her, but then she’ll turn around and destroy anyone who hit on you 

this is the canon event of how the two of you got together: Sevika: did you just flirt with me? You: have been for the past two years, but thanks for noticing. 

you always get thrown into Stillwater. she always bails you out. it’s gotten to a point where she just hears about a scuffle or a robbery in Topside, goes straight to Stillwater, and waits for you to be hauled in. she then just bails you out and takes you back home without a word. “Sev, before you get mad, I SWEAR this time it was them–” “No.”

also: Sevika: what the hell happened here?! You: well, first of all, I was just minding my own business— Sevika: *slams fist on the table* BULLSHIT You: I WAS!!

on days when she is stressed out, dragged down by the workload, stuck in her head too much, you always know the best way to up her mood—you’re the only person in the world who can make her crack a smile, even on the worst days.

basically, this image would sum up your dynamic:

notes: omg might be fun to make this a series, send in your mbti type if you're interesting in seeing more sevika x mbti headcanons!

[nomie-11]

Fight For Me - Part 3

masterlist! | Right Wing - Part 1 | The General - Part 2

synopsis: ellie never had anyone fight for her before, but hearing the way your teammates talk about you, she knows that maybe next time she won’t be alone

pairings: ellie williams x reader (no use of y/n)

The locker room was alive with the familiar buzz of post-practice exhaustion. The sharp scent of sweat and cooling gear filled the air, mingling with the low hum of chatter and the occasional burst of someone’s laughter. Ellie lingered by her locker, fingers absentmindedly unlacing her skates as she listened to the others talk. She was sure what she was waiting for—maybe an excuse to leave, maybe a reason to stay. 

She found her eyes drifting toward you. You were across the room, leaning against your locker, laughing at something Vi had said. Even now, after an absolutely grueling practice, after putting everyone through hell on the ice, you barely looked tired. 

Ellie scowled. How the hell did you do that? 

Dina, sitting on the bench beside her, nudged her shoulder. “You’ve been staring for like, five minutes, dude.” 

Ellie snapped her head toward her. “What? No, I haven’t.” 

Vi, overhearing, smirked. “Yeah, you have.” 

“Fuck off,” Ellie grumbled, yanking her laces free with more force than necessary. 

Caitlyn, ever the observant one, arched a brow. “What’s your deal with Cap, anyway?” 

Ellie hesitated. What was her deal? She hated you—or at least, she wanted to hate you. But the problem was, she didn’t actually know you. Not really. All she knew was what she saw on the ice: a player who was better than she, a captain who commanded absolute loyalty, a strategist who made the game bend to her will. 

So instead of answering the question, Ellie deflected. “What’s her deal?” 

Dina and Vi exchanged a glance. Abby, who had been rolling out her shoulder with a resistance band, snorted. “The General?” 

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I keep hearing that. Why is that her nickname?’

Caitlyn smirked. “Because this is her team. She commands it and she built it.” 

Ellie frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Dina leaned back against the lockers, arms crossed. “Before Cap, the team was good. Like, really good. But good doesn’t win championships. Good doesn’t push you past the point where you want to quit. She made us great.”

Vi nodded. “She doesn’t just play hockey—she sees it. Lives, breathes, and eats it, too. The way she reads the game, the way she moves the puck? It’s like she’s playing five steps ahead of everyone else. When we got here, she made this team into what it is now. She made it better.” 

Ellie frowned, absorbing their words. She thought back to every practice, every game replay she’s watched. It was true—you didn’t just play, you orchestrated. Like a general in a command room, you saw the ice as a battlefield and your team as an army. 

Caitlyn added, “She took this team from a solid contender to a fucking dynasty. Three straight conference championships, frozen four appearances, and if we play our cards right, we’re winning the whole thing this year.” 

Ellie raised a brow. “And you guys just… let her take charge like that?”

Vi laughed. “Let her? You don’t let Cap do anything. She just does it.” 

Dina grinned. “Day one, freshman year, it was me, her, and Vi. She showed up to practice and ran everyone into the ground. Our seniors thought they were gonna humble her. They didn’t.” 

Vi chuckled at the memory. “Yeah, I remember thinking, ‘no fucking way this rookie is that good.’ And then she smoked all of us in suicides, outworked everyone in frills, and by the end of the first week, we all knew. She would lead. Be something different.” 

Ellie’s stomach twisted. She had spent the last few weeks resenting you, trying to fight against the way you led this team, when really—you were the team. 

Dina glanced at Ellie, as if reading her thoughts. “Look, I get that you and Cap don’t exactly vibe, but if you actually listened to her, you’d realize she’s trying to make you better, too.” 

Ellie scoffed. “I don’t need her help.” 

Abby smirked. “That’s cute.”

Ellie glared. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

Vi leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “It means you’re playing checkers while she’s playing chess. She’s already figured out where you fit into this team. You just have to listen.” 

Ellie clenched her jaw, looking down at the skates discarded on the floor. The worst part? They were right, and she knew it. 

“Do any of you guys actually like her? As a friend?” Ellie questioned cautiously. 

Dina blinked at her like she had grown two heads. “Are you serious?” 

Vi let out a sharp laugh. “Ellie, she’s our fucking captain.”

”No shit,” Ellie muttered, rolling her eyes. “I mean besides hockey. Off the ice. Do you guys actually like her?” 

Caitlyn, who had been tying her sneakers, glanced up with a small smirk. “She’s intense as hell. Kind of a bitch, too.” 

“Super goal-oriented,” Abby added, stretching her shoulder with a wince. “Rides all of our asses like it’s her job.” 

Dina grinned. “Technically, it is her job.” 

Ellie felt something ugly twist in her chest. It was what she had been saying—you were too much. Too sharp, too demanding, too relentless. The perfect hockey player, maybe, but not someone anyone would actually—

Vi cut through her thoughts with a scoff. “But, yeah, dumbass. Of course we love her.” 

Ellie frowned. “Even though she’s—”

“A goddamn nightmare?” Caitlyn supplied. 

“A complete hardass?” Abby offered. 

“The most stubborn person alive?” Dina grinned. 

Vi leaned back on the bench, crossing her arms over her chest. “She’s all of that, yeah. But she’s ours.” 

Ellie stared at them. 

Dina’s voice softened, losing its usual teasing edge. “She fights for us, Ellie. Tooth and fucking nail. She’s been the first one in our corner since day one, even when we didn’t ask her to be. She’s had our backs through every shit call, every bad game, every injury.” 

Caitlyn nodded. “When I blew out my knee last season, she stayed at the hospital with me all night. Coach didn’t even ask her to. I woke up, and she was just there.”

Vi smirked. “She cussed out a ref so bad in our freshman year that Coach had to physically drag her off the ice.” 

Abby grinned. “When Dina got concussed, she carried her off the ice herself.”

Ellie blinked. “That’s not legal.” 

Dina snorted, shaking her head. “Yeah, and she bitched the whole time about how heavy I was.” 

Vi smirked. “To be fair, you were dead weight. You kept trying to tell us you were fine while your eyes were rolling back in your head.” 

“I was fine,” Dina said indignantly. 

Abby rolled her eyes. “You couldn’t even count to five.” 

Dina waved a dismissive hand, then leaned back against her locker with a grin. “Honestly, that’s nothing. You wanna know how I really knew Cap had my back.” 

Ellie arched a brow. “Spill.” 

Dina’s grin widened. “I’m actually a teen mom.” 

Ellie choked on her own spit. “What?” 

Vi snickered. “Yup.” 

Dina look way too amused at Ellie’s stunned expression. “Had my kid with Jesse our senior of high school. Just happened to line up with the end of the season and then summer, which, you know, lucky timing and all.” 

Ellie blinked, trying to process. “You—” she gestured vaguely, still thrown, “—have a kid?” 

Dina nodded. “Little dude named JJ. He’s three and a half now.” 

Ellie had absolutely no idea what to do with this information. “And—you still play?”

”Obviously.” Dina said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “But BU almost tried to kick me off the team when they found out the little boy strapped to my soulmate’s chest was my kid mid-sophomore year.” 

Ellie frowned. “They can do that?” 

“They tried to,” Dina’s expression darkened slightly. “Tried to tell me I wouldn’t be able to keep up, that it’d be a distraction, that I needed to focus on my ‘future’—which, like, excuse me, this is my future.” 

Ellie’s stomach twisted. She could imagine it, the way schools and coaches could be—how quickly they’d turn their backs the second they decided you weren’t worth the trouble. “What happened?”

Dina smirked. “Cap happened.” 

Ellie blinked. “What?” 

Vi leaned forward, grinning. “Yeah, that was a fun day.” 

Dina laughed. “I thought she was gonna rip Coach’s head off. She stormed into his office and straight-up told him that if they kicked me off, she’d quit the team.” 

Ellie’s jaw nearly dropped. “She what?”

“Threatened to walk. No hesitation. Said she wouldn’t play for a school that didn’t have its players’ backs.” Dina’s voice was warm, fond. “And here’s the thing—this was right after we won our first conference championship. She was their golden girl, and they knew it. The idea of losing her scared them so much that they backed off.” 

Ellie was quiet for a moment, turning this over in her head. She’d spent weeks seeing you as this untouchable, ice-cold general who lived and breathed hockey, this was something else. 

What would Vermont have been like if she had someone like you to fight for her? Would they have still booted her at the first sign of real trouble?

Vi ran a hand through her short hair. “You think that’s bad? Try this one?” 

Dina smirked. “Smooth topic shift.”

Vi shot her a look but continued. “Middle of our sophomore year, I almost had to drop out.” 

Ellie’s brows furrowed. “What? Why?” 

Vi sighed, her fists clenching. “My little sister needed me. Money was tight—worse than usual. Our dad dropped dead out of nowhere, and if I wanted to keep her fed and taken care of, I had to pick up more hours at work, which meant I didn’t have much time for school, much less hockey.” She exhaled sharply. “So, I told Coach I was quitting.” 

Ellie blinked. “You were just gonna leave?”

Vi shrugged. “Didn’t feel like I had much of a choice at the time. But guess who didn’t let that happen?” 

Ellie didn’t even have to guess. “Captain Perfect stepped in.” 

Vi nodded. “She would not shut up about it. Helped me find grants, financial aid, hell, even some weird-ass booster program for ‘exceptional athletes in difficult circumstances’—which, yeah, that’s a mouthful, but it covered two-thirds of my tuition alone. She even bullied Coach into giving me a small stipend from the team budget.” Vi huffed out a laugh. “And when I was still being stubborn about it, she just showed up to my job one night, tossed an envelope of cash onto the counter, and told me to pay my goddamn bills.”

Ellie’s eyes widened. “Where the hell did she get the money?” 

Vi smirked. “Her own savings. Said she didn’t need it. Said ‘what’s the point of winning if we don’t all cross the finish line together?’” 

Ellie swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way it made her chest tighten, and the overwhelming guilt and jealousy she had for these girls. The Vermont captain was nothing like this—didn’t even fight for her even after they had played together for two years. And here you were paying Vi’s rent after a year and a half on the same team? Threatening your career just to keep Dina on the ice?

Caitlyn sighed. “I guess I’ll go next, then.” 

Ellie turned to her, and Caitlyn leaned against Vi with a small huff. “My mom didn’t want me to keep playing. Thought I wasn’t focused enough on my studies, that hockey was just a distraction.” 

Ellie frowned. “That’s ridiculous. You’re, like, insanely smart.” 

Caitlyn gave a humorless chuckle. “Didn’t matter. You’ve never met an asian mother on a mission. In her mind, I had to be better. She tried to pull me from the team.” 

Ellie clenched her fists to keep her hands from shaking. “What happened?” 

Caitlyn smiled slightly. “Our dear captain happened?” 

Dina grinned. “This was epic.” 

Caitlyn laughed. “She learned my mother’s language of numbers and statistics. Launched a full-scale campaign to convince my mother to let me stay. Had the entire team sign petitions. Brought in my academic record and class statistics to prove I wasn’t falling behind. Got Coach to sit down with her and explain how crucial I was to the lineup.” She exhaled, shaking her head. “She wouldn’t leave my poor mother alone.”

Ellie could picture it—your relentless determination, your refusal to let anything stand in the way of keeping your team together. 

“In the end,” Caitlyn said, “my mom gave in. She figured if I had a captain that determined to keep me on the team, I must be worth something.” 

Ellie didn’t know what to say to that. 

And then Abby sighed. “Alright. My turn.” 

Ellie glanced over. Abby had been quiet, listening, but now there was something hesitant in her expression. Ellie could feel the entire atmosphere in the room shift, as if everyone knew something she didn’t. Something bad. 

Abby took a breath. “Last year was rough for me.” 

Ellie didn’t move, didn’t respond, sensing the weight behind Abby’s words. 

“I had… a lot of pressure on me. To perform, to be the best, to live up to the expectations that came with being on her team.” Abby’s jaw tightened. “And I handled it like shit. Stopped eating right. Stopped resting. I thought if I just pushed harder, I’d b fine. But I wasn’t.” 

Ellie felt her chest tighten. “What happened.” 

Abby hesitated, then sighed. “I passed out. In the middle of practice.”

Ellie’s stomach dropped. 

“And Cap…” Abby exhaled, shaking her head. “She caught me. She was so pissed. But not in the way you’d think. She wasn’t mad at me at all—she was just mad at herself, like she was angry that she didn’t see it coming and felt like she should’ve.” 

Ellie swallowed hard. 

“When I was lucid—later that night—it was just me and her, and I totally broke down.” Ellie could see Abby blink back a tear from her eye quicker than it had showed up, immediately resuming her story. “I was so unhappy with myself. Unhappy with my body, with my performance, everything. I kept telling myself that I was fine, that I had it under control.” She huffed a humorless laugh. “And then, she just—looks at me. Really looks at me. And goes, ‘Abby, you need help.’”

Abby swallowed. “I tried to blow her off. But she didn’t let me. She got Coach involved. The team’s physical therapist. Even my dad. She forced me to go see a therapist. And I hated her for it at first.” 

Elli watched as Abby’s jaw clenched, but then her expression shifted, softened. 

“But she saved me.” Abby’s voice was quieter now. “She saved my career. Probably my life. And she never, ever made me feel weak for it. Just kept telling me that she needed me on her team. That we needed me on this team.” 

Silence settled over the room. 

Before Ellie could respond—before she could even process the weight of everything she’d just heard—the locker room door banged open. 

“Alright, dumbasses, listen up.” 

Ellie turned to see you stride in, a bag slung over your shoulder, your expression set in that signature no-nonsense look she was beginning to recognize. Without breaking stride, you reached into the bag and started tossing protein bars, apples, and electrolyte pouches at your teammates with the precision of someone who had done this a hundred times before. 

“You—” you pegged an apple at Dina, who caught it with a grin— “eat. You need more fresh fruits and vegetables in your diet.” 

Dina laughed. “Caught red-handed.” 

“You—” a protein bar smacked Vi in the chest— “drink some fucking water. if I see you cramping up in drills again, I’m making you run suicides.” 

Vi rolled her eyes but tore open the wrapper anyway. “Love you too, Cap.” 

“You—” you shoved an electrolyte pouch into Caitlyn’s hands— “I know you’re gonna be up late studying, so make sure you eat snacks. Also, I know you hate the cherry electrolyte pouch flavor, so I got you the blueberry.” 

Caitlyn gave you a smile, pocketing the packet. “You know me so well.” 

“And you—” you turned to Abby, softer now, pressing an apple into her hand instead of throwing it— “get some rest. No gym tonight.” 

Abby sighed but nodded. “Yeah, yeah.” 

Finally, your gaze landed on Ellie. For a moment, she thought you were going to skip her entirely, but then you tossed something her way. She barely caught it before looking down at her hands—a protein bar and an electrolyte pouch. 

“You looked like shit out there today,” you said bluntly. “Eat, sleep, and be ready to work in the morning.” 

Ellie bristled, instinctively wanting to push back, but then she caught the way the others were looking at you—like this was normal, like this was just how you were. Like this was caring. 

And then, for the first time, she saw the softness beneath the steel. 

This was you looking out for your team. This was you looking out for her. 

Ellie clenched her jaw, tearing open the protein bar just to give herself something to do. 

You nodded in approval before stepping back. “Everyone, get back to the dorms. Early morning practice tomorrow. I want all of you rested.” 

There were groans, but no one argued. They never did. You turned to leave, but just before you walked out the door, Ellie found herself calling after you. 

“Hey, Cap.” 

You paused, glancing over your shoulder, an eyebrow raised. “Yeah?” 

Ellie hesitated. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say, just that she wanted to say something. Finally, she settled on, “you gonna get some rest too?” 

Something flickered in your eyes—surprise, maybe, or something else Ellie couldn’t quite name. Then, slowly, you smirked. 

“Worried about me, Williams?”

Ellie scoffed, stuffing the rest of the protein bar in her mouth just to avoid answering. 

You chuckled, shaking your head as you turned away. “See you at practice.” 

And then you were gone, leaving Ellie staring after you, a strange warmth settling in her chest. Shit. Maybe she didn’t hate you after all. 

——————-

The air in the Vermont locker room had been suffocating that night. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a harsh glow over the silent team. Ellie sat at her locker, her fingers dripping the edge of the bench, knuckles white. The echoes of the final buzzer still rang in her ears, but it wasn’t the loss that made her sick—it was the fallout. 

No one was looking at her. 

Not her teammates. Not her coach. Not even her captain. 

Ellie swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump in her throat. She had given everything she had that night. Played her fucking heart out. And now—now they were throwing her to the wolves. 

She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms. “That wasn’t fucking fair, and you all know it.” Her voice cracked, raw with frustration, but no one spoke up. 

No one defended her. 

Not after the ref’s bullshit call. Not after the fight broke out. Not after the other team’s defenseman got away with a dirty, knee-on-knee hit on Cat. 

Ellie had seen red. Had thrown off her gloves, grabbed the fucker by the collar, and put them on the ice before they could even blink. It was instinct, fueled by adrenaline and the absolute rage at seeing one of her only friends on the team taken out like that. 

But the refs didn’t care about that. They didn’t care about what had started it—only how it ended. And it ended with Ellie being ejected. 

Coach had gone ballistic. Not at the other team. Not at the refs. 

At her. 

By the time the team had shuffled into the locker room, defeated and exhausted, Coach had already made up his mind. 

“You’re done.” His voice had been cold. Detached. 

Ellie’s head snapped up. “What?” 

“You’re off the team, Williams.” 

Her stomach lurched. “Coach, I—”

“Save it.” He shook his head. “You’re reckless. A liability.” 

Ellie’s nails bit into her palms so hard she thought she might break the skin. “You’re seriously gonna kick me off over one fucking fight?” 

“One fight?” He scoffed. “This isn’t your first outburst, Williams. You don’t listen. You play with your emotions instead of your head. And tonight, you embarrassed this team.” 

Ellie looked around, desperate, searching for someone—anyone—to back her up. 

But all she saw were averted eyes. 

Cat was in the training room, still getting checked out, but everyone else was here. Her teammates, her captain. the people who were supposed to have her back. And yet, no one spoke. No one fucking said a thing. 

Her captain—Maddie—stood near the front, arms crossed over her chest, face unreadable. 

Ellie’s voice was hoarse when she spoke. “You’re just gonna let this happen?” 

Maddie didn’t look at her. 

Ellie’s stomach twisted. “Maddie.” 

Still, nothing. 

Ellie let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Fucking unreal.” 

Coach didn’t give her another glance. “Pack your stuff. You’re out.” 

And just like that, it was over. 

No fight. No argument. 

They let her go without a second thought. She was nothing to them. 

——

The drive back to the apartment was a blur. The world outside the window was streaked with rain, the streetlights glowing in smears of gold and white. Ellie could barely process it. One moment she had a team, a future, a fucking purpose—now? Now she had nothing. 

Joel was waiting for her when she stepped inside, fresh off a late-night flight in from Jackson. She was drenched from the rain, her bag slung over her shoulder like dead weight. 

He took one look at her face and sighed. “Kid.” 

Ellie dropped her bag and collapsed onto the couch, rubbing a hand down her face. “Don’t.” 

Joel ignored her, stepping closer. “What happened?” 

Ellie didn’t answer at first. Couldn’t. Her throat felt tight, her chest even tighter. 

Joel sat beside her, silent, waiting. He was patient when he was waiting for her to be ready to talk. Always had been. 

Finally, Ellie exhaled, voice hollow. “They kicked me off the team.” 

Joel was quiet for a long moment. Then— “They what?” 

Ellie let out a humorless laugh, leaning back against the couch. “Coach said I was a liability. No one fought for me. Not even Maddie.” 

Joel’s jaw clenched. “That’s bullshit.” 

“Yeah,” Ellie muttered. “Tell that to them.” 

Joel was silent again, but this time, Ellie could feel the anger rolling off of him. He’d always had her back—always fought for her, even when she didn’t deserve it. And now, when she needed someone the most, he was the only one standing in her corner. 

Not her teammates, not her captain, just Joel. 

The thought made her sick. She had fought for that team. Bled for them. And they let her go without a word. 

Joel exhaled sharply. “You’re not done, kiddo.” 

Ellie scoffed. “Uh, pretty sure I am. No team, no scholarship, no—”

Joel cut her off. “You’re not done.” His voice was firm. Certain. “There’s still time to transfer. I’ll make some calls.” 

Ellie shook her head. “No one’s gonna want me.” 

Joel’s eyes darkened. “Boston will.” 

Ellie frowned. “BU?” 

“I know the coach—he owes me for something I did ages ago. They’re always looking for talent. And you, kid, are damn good. You just need someone who gives a shit.”

Ellie hesitated. The thought of starting over again—of going through another season of proving herself, of fighting for a spot she didn’t even know she wanted anymore—was exhausting.

But what other choice did she have?

Joel leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “My Ellie wouldn’t quit over something like this. I know you.”

Ellie clenched her jaw, staring down at her hands. 

She wasn’t sure if she had it in her to fight anymore. But Joel—he had enough fight for the both of them, and she just had to hope that was enough. 

———

Now, sitting in the BU locker room, listening to her new team talk about you—how you fought for them, how you never let them fall without being there to pick them back up—Ellie couldn’t help but wonder…

What if Maddie had fought for her the way you’d fought for Dina or Vi?

What if someone had stood up for her like you did for Caitlyn, had given a shit beyond just what she could do for the team like you had for Abby? 

Would she have still ended up here? 

Would it have still felt like she was completely alone? 

Because even now, surrounded by her new teammates, part of something bigger—she still felt like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Waiting for them to decide she wasn’t worth it. 

Waiting to be left behind. 

But then—you tossed a protein bar into her lap, your voice breaking through her thoughts. “You looked like shit out there today. Eat, sleep, and be ready to work in the morning.” 

Ellie blinked, looking down at the bar in her hands. When she looked back up, you were watching her, expression unreadable. 

And for the first time in a long time, Ellie felt something unfamiliar settle in her chest. 

Hope. Hope that maybe, this time would be different. Hope that if push came to shove, she wouldn’t be alone on the ice with a chasm between her and her teammates. 

Hope that you would toss a rope bridge over the break and hold her hand as she crossed, and fight for her the way no one else had. 

This is part three of a multipart series!

<- previous part | next part ->

If you enjoyed this series, please make sure to check out my others!

Taglist: @vahnilla , @sevyscoven , @taurtel , @liasxeatt , @aliluvszs , @riiinnniiieeee , @dreamersbelieveinus

[probablyasocialecologist]

The first thing you’ll notice — perhaps helped by a translation app, as tourists and monolingual English speakers are not among Familjny��s usual clientele — is that the food is outrageously cheap. Once you’ve worked out what dishes you want, you queue up to a little niche. You ask here for what you want, and you’ll be given a bit of paper. You take this to a larger niche, from which you can see the kitchen, and you give it to a uniformed staff member, who would usually be middle-aged or older. They will dollop the particular parts of your meal onto your plate. Then you sit down, and you eat it, and when you’ve finished, you put the plate and your cutlery onto a rack — there is nothing so servile as waiting staff. There are some drawbacks to this system, to be sure. I have only once or twice been in a milk bar that had a toilet, and because at lunchtime especially there are always a lot of people queueing, you are not encouraged to linger. You eat, and then you go home or back to work — but you’ll have been able to have a decent three-course meal of soup, a main course, and a slice of cake for the equivalent of, at the very most, £5, in a country where the cost of living is almost comparable to Britain’s.

[...]

In Poland, the milk bar idea has been dated by some to the late nineteenth century, when the bulk of Poland, including Warsaw, was under Tsarist Russian occupation. Milk bars would offer locally produced food to benefit Polish farmers, and there would be no alcohol to cloud the minds of Polish workers, and also, importantly, little meat, which would make the food both cheaper and healthier. But nearly every milk bar in Poland was opened between 1945 and 1989, becoming the local example of a subgenre of cheap communal eating facilities built and encouraged by state socialist governments; what distinguishes it today is the fact that it still endures, for reasons which are complicated and surprising. Communal eating was regarded as being of crucial importance by Bolshevik thinkers from the start. Partly, this was a consequence of their pioneering feminism. Both for Lenin and for explicitly liberationist thinkers like Alexandra Kollontai, one of the central tasks of the revolutionary government that seized power in October 1917 was to free working-class women from ‘kitchen slavery’, as exemplified in the St Petersburg’s textile industry, which saw women work in factories all day and then go home and cook (and clean) for their menfolk. Early plans were highly ambitious, and they were integrated with avant-garde architecture and urban design; a few remnants of this programme survive in the larger cities of Russia, and Ukraine in particular. When researching a book on Soviet architecture in the 2010s, I went looking for a few of these, and the results were often sad to behold. In St Petersburg — then Leningrad — at the end of the 1920s, a team of architects, some of whom had worked with Vladimir Tatlin on his famous unbuilt twisting tower in tribute to the Third International, were charged with designing communal kitchens in the factory districts of the city. All three of them survive, but they have been turned into dodgy nightclubs, cheap malls, or worse: the finest of the group, a fabulous, dynamic, futuristic building, in the Narvskaya Zastava district, had been subdivided into little units by, among others, McDonalds. In Moscow meanwhile, enormous Constructivist bakeries were built around the city. One of the largest of them, Bakery Plant No. 5, was turned into a museum of Constructivism in 2022; the year, that is, of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, a vainglorious nationalist slaughter that would have horrified the socialist modernists behind these buildings. In the 1920s, housing was sometimes built in such a way as to encourage its inhabitants to eat collectively. In Moscow’s experimental Narkomfin Communal House, duplex apartments were connected by a walkway to a restaurant, a library, a nursery, and a gym, with a roof garden on top; inside the flats, kitchens were either tiny or, in the ‘fully collectivised’ apartments, absent entirely, with the assumption that you could always eat in, or take your food from, the communal restaurant. For its Constructivist architect Moisei Ginzburg, this would liberate women residents entirely from the assumption — unavoidable in the early twentieth century — that they would be cooking the dinner. But in the Stalin era, Soviet food culture became much more hierarchical. These dreams of vast avant-garde dining halls serviced by streamlined, automated processes and administered by happy class-conscious workers were replaced with, at the top, a series of luxury restaurants for the nomenklatura; at the bottom, factory canteens; and, in between, the stolovaya — a network of public dining halls across the country, expanded especially in the more egalitarian Khrushchev era, during which period modernist glass box cafes also appeared in the larger urban centres, as a return to the 1920s dreams of automated communal luxury.

17 February 2025

[cryptictongues]

Manifesting a Valentine

pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader rating: PG-13 (mildly) word count: 2.6K summary: You wonder what Logan is to you. Whitney Houston manifests that answer for you. warnings: this is just straight up fluff, gender-neutral reader, kissing

This is my piece for the Loveuary Writing Challenge created by @lubdubology and @yxtkiwiyxt, which was a wonderful thing they both set up. I got assigned 2000s Logan with the song 'I Will Always Love You' by Whitney Houston. I had a lot of fun writing this, especially since I took a different approach to it. All I will say is my inspiration was this video right here.

Enjoy!

Please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.

[AO3 link]

There is dust dancing in the air, swirling in the fumes of disinfectant. They float and falter, only to seemingly disintegrate as they hit the wooden floor. There are piles of clothes, some in need of folding and some waiting to take a ride in the washing machine. Papers and books are pushed into a corner, waiting to return as you organize your writing utensils and silly trinkets.

You need to stop pushing off the task of cleaning your room, but it can’t be helped. Juggling being a teacher to a multitude of students and going on missions for Charles as an X-Man, your free time is slim to none. By the time the day is over, all you want to do is flop onto your bed and sleep until morning breaks. The idea of being more productive than you already were was exhausting to think about.

Yet here you are on a Friday evening, Walkman blasting music into your headphones as you run the rag across your desk, the wood sparkling from cleaner that smelled of citrus. 

A hodgepodge of tunes played one after the other as the CD spun, all being love songs for the season of February. Some were simply romantic and joyous, while others played the melancholiest of sounds. It didn’t matter what kind of love song it was; you loved them all.

Valentine's Day was always a holiday you adored. Growing up, your family would always use it as an excuse to get together. While it has always been viewed as a time for romance, your family saw it as a time to celebrate the familial side of love. It created a cherished feeling for the season, especially with having a family that loved you no matter what. Even when all you saw was romance, your heart was happy.

At least, that was the case until a certain man came into the forefront of your existence.

Logan Howlett was something else. The first time you saw him, he was walking down the hall with the Professor getting the grand tour. You didn’t think someone could look so attractive in a jacket with the school emblem on it, but damn. The skin that pulled against his exposed collar bones made you want to sink your teeth into him. 

It started as a small crush for a while. Even as an adult, you’ve always been fairly reserved around people unfamiliar to you. So, like a fly on the wall, you would look from afar, studying him closely. You would drink him in as he made himself more comfortable and it wasn’t until you accidentally made eye contact with him that your lives started to tightly intertwine.

You could feel your face heat up as you thought about how close you two have gotten. You wouldn’t say the two of you are inseparable, but it’s pretty damn close. Every time you come back from an errand, he is there waiting for you. Every morning, he is waiting for you in the kitchen to have breakfast together. Most evenings after the school day is done, he is meeting with you in your room to enjoy his cigar while you wind down with your secret stash of wine. It's become apparent to you that you are his go to, and it would be a lie to say he isn’t yours as well. You enjoy his company, which has transformed your feelings into something far greater.

You wouldn’t know what to call your relationship with him. You know it’s nothing super serious, but you feel the potential for it to be. You see how different he is with you; how his crass attitude seems to change into something much more sincere and open. You think he is much like you; the more he opens up, the more he shows he cares. Even so, you aren’t sure he would allow himself to indulge in the idea of belonging to someone. 

The thought alone dampers your mood slightly, causing your shoulders to sag slightly. As much as you love this time of the year, having Logan so close yet not quite in your grasp makes your heart crazed. You crave his companionship, and oh what you wouldn’t give to have it. 

You wonder if he has Valentine's Day plans but knowing him you highly doubt it. You’d bet money that he doesn't even know the 14th is tomorrow, the days and months meshing together. Maybe you’ll do something for him anyways, like buy him some quality cigars or good whiskey to hide with your stash of alcohol. Maybe you could run out tonight and grab something. 

In the midst of your thoughts, you hear Whitney Houston’s rich voice travel through your ears, causing you to perk up.

“Oh yes!” You whisper with excitement. “I haven’t heard this song in a while.” 

You twirl over to your door, cracking it to help air out the fumes of disinfectant and wood polish. You grab the broom and start to sweep, humming along to the song until it’s too hard to resist opening your mouth.

“And IIIIIII will always love youuuuu,” you sing out, enunciating Whitney’s range as you brush away the remnants of dust and junk that found itself stranded on the floor. 

There was something about this song that always drew you in. It’s a love song, yet it’s bittersweet. It’s a song that truly encapsulates loving someone so much that you must set them free. Maybe you love it because it’s a way for you to empathize, or it’s preparing you for the day you may have to let someone go with love. A small part of your mind wonders if you are already doing that with Logan, but it quickly vanishes; it’s just you and Whitney.

You can’t help but sing into the broom, dancing in circles that slightly scatter your dust bunny piles, but you could care less. When the sax solo plays, you hold the broom up front with fingers moving sporadically along the wooden handle. You make noises trying to replicate the sound of the alto, dipping back and forth recreating movements you’ve seen saxophone players make. You’re in the zone now; immersed in a dream as you sing along without a care in the world. Little did you know, there was someone watching you from your door.

Soon enough, you find yourself on your bed, broom being held like a mic stand, dipping down into a low bow before the climax of the song hits. You take a deep breath, preparing to unleash the iconic phrase and pitch from past your lips.

“AND IIIIIIIIIIIII EEEEEEE IIIIIIII WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOOOUUUUU,” your back goes back in an arch, lungs working overtime as air rushes out. You can’t hear yourself, and you know rather than the beautiful sound of Whitney Houston, you probably sound insane. You didn’t care though. 

Well, you didn’t until your eyes landed on your now closed door, a body leaning against it with a smug grin on the face of the person who has infiltrated every part of your daily life. 

Oh God… Logan…

“So, this is what you’ve been up to all evening.” 

The broom drops from your hands, falling to the floor with a clank as your embarrassment permeates the room. 

“Um… how long have you been standing there?”

He pushes off the door, hands behind his back as he continues towards you. “Long enough to see that stellar sax solo of yours.”

If your face could get redder, you’d be a maraschino cherry.

“So stellar in fact, I think I need a listen.” 

“I’m not performing for you again,” you huff. “This is so embarrassing.” 

“While I’d love to see and hear you again, I was talking about what you were listening to, sweetheart.”

You pause, looking at him confused. “You’ve never heard of Whitney Houston’s ‘I Will Always Love You’?”

“Should I?”

“Um yes!” You proclaim, arms shooting up into the air. “It’s one of the best love songs ever written and performed! Are you telling me you don’t listen to music?” 

He is standing in front of you, and he’s tall enough to be leveled with your chest. His face tilts up, and you can’t help but notice the way he’s looking at you: both light-hearted and full of adoration that shows through the crows feet. It makes your heart race.

“Not many love songs play in a dingy, underground fighting ring,” he grins, raspy tone pleasant to your ears. “Come on, sit down. Give me a listen.” 

You hear rustling behind him but quickly shift attention when he sits down, putting whatever’s in his hands out of your line of sight. You move to sit down beside him, removing your Walkman from the pouch on your hip. Your left leg is almost touching his right one, the heat begging to transfer with one touch. You remove your headphones, moving to put them over Logan’s ears, the band pressing down the points of his hair.

You giggle at this. “There go your cat ears.”

You go to shift the track back, and as you get ready to hit play, you feel a cushioned headphone against your ear. You turn and Logan’s face is very close to yours.

“What are you doing, Logan?” 

“About to give this song you love so much a listen, but I want you to listen with me.” He smirks. “Is that okay, sweetheart?”

He’s going to be the end of me. What’s with him tonight?

You can’t speak so you nod, pressing play to let the song take its form. His eyes closed as he listened, allowing you to watch his facial movements as he reacted. You could see every crease and divot shift as he listened intently. You looked for key reactions during certain parts of the song, your lips quirking up when a smile appeared on his face.

A chuckle rumbles from his chest when the saxophone solo starts, your eyebrow raising in response. “What’s so funny?”

He doesn’t answer, just shakes his head as the song enters the third verse. You see him lock in, smile fading slightly as the song rolls on. You wonder what he’s thinking; what is Whitney telling him? It isn’t until she belts out the final chorus that his smile returns tenfold, making the butterflies fluttering in your belly go crazy.

The song fades out, and before the next track can play you press pause. There is a beat of silence before you pull away from the headphone, looking at Logan with a curiosity to know what his brain is churning. 

“Soooo, what do you think?”

Logan looks to ponder, his fingers messing with the hem of your shirt. You feel the rough skin of his fingertips graze your tummy ever so slightly, causing a shiver to run down your spine. This moment is so intimate and for the first time you are seeing a vulnerability that Logan has never expressed before. 

“I think…” he draws out, eyes lifting to meet yours. “I think I understand why you danced like no one’s watching, especially during the sax solo.”

You groan, face going into your hands with words muffled as he laughs. “You are so unserious. That’s all you got from this?”

“Oh, trust me. I got a lot more than you probably bargained for.” 

You peek from between your fingers, hands becoming hot from the blood rush in your cheeks. You feel his hands wrap around your wrists, pulling your hands into his. “Did you know there is a Wolverine Alto Saxophone?”

You gawk at him, pushing against his hands playfully. “You’re so full of shit.”

“They don’t make them anymore. Fairly rare and a little hot headed but…” Logan brings both your hands to your hips, his own flipping on top with a slight grip that causes you to squeeze your flesh. “I’m sure the right player could handle it just fine.”

“Logan, are you flirting with me?” Your heart is racing, your mind controlling its speed as it goes 100 miles per second. 

“Is it working?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Because if it is, I think you should play me sometime.”

Your breath comes out shaky, nerves racking your body. This is the closest you have ever been to being with him. You are so close to having an answer as to what you two are; what you two could be. You wonder what has gotten into him. What pushed this on? 

A laugh comes from under your breath. “You are something else, you know that?”

“Hmm,” he hums, moving closer to you so his face is mere inches from yours. “What can I say? I can’t help myself.”

“Is that so? And why is that?” You challenge, hoping for him to say what you want to hear.

“I’ve got someone in my life who likes to press my buttons without even trying, and I think I wanna start pressing theirs too.”

“Wow,” you breathe out. “You’re good.”

“Yeah? Then show me.” His lips are almost on yours, a smirk plastered on his kissable lips. “Show me how good I am.”

You nod, leaning fully in to press your lips to his. He groans against your mouth; a sound so delightful it makes your skin raise. You remove your hands from under his, moving to his biceps to ground yourself. You can finally feel his grip on you, and it’s secure. He kisses you with a purpose, his movements precise, and it draws you in. It creates a gravitational pull between the two of you, your hands pulling on him and his own pulling your hips. Next thing you know, he is almost on top of you. 

“Mmm,” he purrs. “You taste so sweet, baby.”

You pull away slightly, his lips chasing yours for a moment before you steady him. “Yeah? Well, you’re fun to play.”

His shoulders shake as he chuckles, going in for another round before he pauses. “Before I forget…”

He sits back up, reaching behind him as he grabs something that crinkles. You try to peek over his shoulder, curiosity getting the better of you, only for him to face you once more. Your eyes go wide as you see the bouquet of daisies in his hand, white tissue wrapping keeping them together. 

You are in awe. You can’t remember the last time someone got you flowers. “These are for me?”

“They sure are,” He smiles with crinkled eyes. “Had to get flowers for my Valentine.”

You look down bashfully, tongue drawing over your lower lip, tasting remnants that are so him. “I didn’t think you’d care about Valentine’s Day.”

“You said you love Valentine’s Day. Seems right to celebrate my baby’s favorite time of the year.”

My baby…

He hands you the flowers, and you cradle them in your arms. They are lively and simply beautiful; a fresh, sweet scent floating up to your nose. Everything about this moment is sweet, and the flowers make it even sweeter.

“Soooo,” you draw out. “Does this mean you want to make things official?”

“Official?” He takes the flowers from your hands gently, placing them on the floor before pulling you onto his lap. You yelp as he squeezes you to him, vibrating with the urgency to be close. “I sure like the sound of that.”

You lean your head against his shoulder, feeling yet another wave of shyness at how he holds and looks at you. It’s something new, and it blossoms in your chest as he slowly rocks you with kisses against the side of your face. All you can think is that you love him, and you can’t help but think he loves you too.

Thank God for love and Thank God for Whitney Houston. 

[blondemrk]

Hi can i do envelope 2 with mark 🐯

LOST TIME

p mark x fem!reader genre angst wc 1.2k

the sound of tires rolling over wet pavement fills the silent streets as a black van slows to a stop in front of the venue. the neon lights above the entrance flicker against the dark sky, and the muffled hum of a crowd seeps through the brick walls. the air is cold, damp with the remnants of rain, but mark barely notices as he steps out, hood pulled over his head, gaze drifting across the unfamiliar yet familiar city.

it had been years since he last walked these streets.

years since he left without looking back.

and years since he last saw you.

his fingers tighten around the strap of his bag as he follows the security team inside. the venue isn’t massive—not like the arenas he’s used to—but there’s a strange comfort in the intimacy of it, in knowing that this place, this city, holds pieces of his past that he abandoned a long time ago.

he doesn’t know why he agreed to come back. nostalgia, maybe. or guilt.

maybe you.

maybe the hope that after all this time, you’d still be here, still waiting, still willing to see him after he disappeared without a trace.

but that would be selfish, wouldn’t it?

you and mark were inseparable as kids, bound by a friendship that felt unbreakable. you spent summers biking through the neighborhood, sharing headphones as you lay on the grass, talking about the future like it was something you could control.

back then, mark’s dreams were small—simple. he wanted to make music, to write songs that made people feel something. you believed in him before anyone else did, sitting cross-legged on his bedroom floor while he scribbled lyrics in a worn-out notebook.

“you’ll make it big one day,” you had told him, grinning. “i’ll be your biggest fan.”

he laughed, nudging your shoulder. “you’ll be right there with me, right?”

“always.”

but “always” had an expiration date.

the day mark got his acceptance letter to train in korea, everything changed.

he was ecstatic, eyes shining with the kind of excitement you had never seen before. and you were happy for him—so, so happy—but beneath that joy was something bitter, something selfish.

“you’re really leaving, huh?” you had asked, trying to sound teasing, even though your voice wavered.

mark hesitated before nodding. “yeah… but it’s not forever.”

but it was.

at first, he tried. he texted, called, sent voice messages telling you about his training, his struggles, the late-night practices that left him exhausted but fulfilled. and you held onto those messages like lifelines, responding every chance you got, telling him about your mundane life in comparison.

but slowly, the messages became less frequent.

the calls stopped.

the time zones stretched the distance between you, and suddenly, you weren’t part of his life anymore.

you told yourself you understood. he was chasing his dream, living the life he always wanted. who were you to hold him back?

but understanding didn’t make it hurt any less.

the coffee shop on 3rd street is the same as he remembers—warm lighting, the scent of espresso, the low hum of conversations overlapping.

but the moment mark steps inside, he feels out of place.

his hands are clammy as he orders, shifting from foot to foot as he glances around. he doesn’t even like coffee that much, but this was your favorite place. he wonders if you still come here.

if you’d even recognize him after all this time.

the barista calls his name, and just as he reaches for the cup, he hears it.

a laugh.

soft, familiar. a sound he hadn’t heard in years, yet it still manages to send a sharp pang through his chest.

his gaze snaps to the corner of the café.

and there you are.

sitting by the window, a book in one hand, a drink in the other. the sight is so painfully familiar that for a second, he forgets how much time has passed.

you look… older. not in a bad way. just different. the softness of youth is gone, replaced by something quieter, more mature. he wonders if you’ve changed or if he just doesn’t know you anymore.

he takes a shaky breath. he shouldn’t disturb you. you look happy. peaceful.

but then your eyes lift, and suddenly, he’s frozen.

shock flickers across your face, but it disappears just as quickly, replaced by something unreadable.

mark swallows, gripping his cup tighter as he takes a hesitant step forward.

“hey,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

for a moment, you just stare at him, as if trying to determine if he’s real. then, slowly, you set your book down.

“mark.”

it shouldn’t hurt, the way you say his name—carefully, cautiously, like he’s a stranger.

like he isn’t the same boy you once promised to stay beside forever.

the air between you is thick with unspoken words. you agreed to talk, but now that you’re here—now that you’re sitting across from him in a quiet corner of the café—mark realizes he has no idea what to say.

he should apologize. should tell you he’s sorry for leaving, for never looking back, for letting the distance turn into silence.

but before he can, you speak first.

“you look good.”

it’s polite. distant.

not the way you used to talk to him.

mark forces a smile. “so do you.”

a beat of silence.

then, you exhale, setting your cup down. “why are you here, mark?”

the question is simple, but it carries weight.

mark shifts uncomfortably. “i—i had a concert here. thought i’d… check out the old places.”

you hum, nodding, but you don’t look convinced.

“i didn’t mean just here,” you clarify. “i mean… why now? why after all this time?”

mark clenches his fists. he wishes he had a good answer. wishes he could say something that would make up for the years of absence, for the messages left on read, for the calls never returned.

“i don’t know,” he admits quietly. “i guess i just… missed you.”

a sharp exhale. you look away, fingers curling around your mug.

“you don’t get to say that,” you whisper. “not after disappearing for years.”

mark flinches. he deserves that.

“i know,” he murmurs. “i messed up. i—i should’ve tried harder.”

“you didn’t try at all, mark.” your voice isn’t angry. just tired. “do you even know how long i waited? how many times i told myself you’d call back? that you’d keep your promise?”

mark swallows the lump in his throat. “i—”

“but you didn’t,” you continue. “you left, and i had to be okay with it. i had to move on. and i did.”

something cracks in his chest.

“you’re right,” he says hoarsely. “i don’t deserve to ask for anything. i just… i wanted to see you. even if you never want to talk to me again, i just needed you to know that i—” he stops, inhaling sharply. “that i never forgot about you.”

your expression softens—just barely.

for a moment, neither of you speak.

then, you sigh, rubbing your temple. “i don’t know if we can go back to how things were, mark.”

“i know,” he whispers. “but maybe… maybe we can start again?”

a pause.

then, finally, you meet his gaze.

and for the first time that night, your lips twitch into something almost like a smile.

“maybe”

and that’s enough.

for now.

be prepared for the next one... its SO SAD.