#( hope this is alright and sorry for the wait! )

[jarofstyles]

Pierced

Hi my ducklings! So this is part 2 of Pierced Through The Heart but it can be read as a standalone! I'm sorry it took me so long I've been hella depressed lol. I hope you lover her!

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WC- 4.4k

Warnings- mention of needles, piercing is done/described, oral sex

“Alright… So tell me honestly. No bullshit. How badly does this hurt?” Swinging her legs on the bench, she watched her boyfriend gather what he needed for the piercings.

After becoming his official girlfriend- which hadn’t taken very long- she was quick to cash in on her free piercing promise. The first had been a cartilage piercing, but this was definitely a bigger decision.

Her nipples.

Harry looked up from his preparations, a smirk playing on his lips as he saw the hidden nervousness in her eyes. She liked to play tough but he knew how she was. He didn’t tease her about it too much, but he knew. “It really depends. I’ve had a lot of people who say it doesn’t hurt nearly at all, some who say it does, but only a few who have passed out from it. But I’ll make it quick, promise. And afterwards, you’ll have something beautiful to show for it.”

“I mean, I think I’ve got a good pain tolerance.”

The shop was closed for the day, leaving only Harry and Y/N in the place. It was quieter than she would have imagined, only the noise of their chatting and the soft music on the radio in the back. It had been louder when she came to get her cartilage done when she had brought lunch for both of them a few weeks back. “Hey. wait.” Her brow raised. “Have you ever fucked a customer?”

“Well fuck, come right out with it then.” Harry chuckled at the sudden change in topic, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. Her lack of filter was something he did like about her though. “No, love, can’t say I have.” He walked over to where she was sitting on the bench, leaning against the wall next to her.

He reached out and brushes a strand of hair out of her face, his fingers gently tracing along her jawline. “But I have to say, the idea of fucking a customer who sits on this very bench, getting pierced by my hands, is a pretty tempting one.”

Y/N felt her face heat, his blatant flirtation still getting to her and making her feel giddy. Once the confession had been made, he had fallen completely into loverboy mode- with a libido that she heavily enjoyed the benefits of. “Hm.” It pleased her that he hadn’t had anyone here. She would have been jealous… but knowing he was flirting with the idea of doing it with her? That was a welcomed answer. “Maybe if you’re good and be nice to me when you pierce my tits, I’ll consider it.”

He was always oh, so nice to her. He worshipped her, really. It was insane, actually, sometimes making her wonder if her previous lovers actually liked her at all because the way Harry treated her seemed so genuine and second nature and yet so enamored that she was shocked. The smirk on his lips as he placed the sanitized packaging down on the table beside them made her tummy flip.  “Oh, love, I promise I’ll be extra gentle when I pierce those perky little nipples of yours. They’re my favorite too, y’know.”

“Mmm.” She pursed her lips to hold back a. grin. “You better. I’m delicate, you know.”

Harry chuckled lightly, moving away from her ear and looking into her eyes. He raised a hand to cup her chin, gazing at her like she was the only thing he wanted to look at in this whole world. She sorta was. “Alright, delicate flower. Take that top off and let me see those tits.”

Y/N couldn’t help her laugh, shaking her head as she undid the buttons of her shirt. Harry was the professional here, so he had given her the rundown on how it was going to work- including the fact that he couldn’t play with them for a while after to make sure they healed properly. He had mourned that but quickly got over it when he imagined her, audibly, having them pierced. Theh would suit her incredibly well.

“I’m still sad you’ll have to keep your mouth off of them for a while.” She pouted, opening her shirt to expose her breasts to him. “What a shame.”

Harry chuckled as he watched her, finding her cute when she pouted—he wanted to kiss that pout, but could stop himself from doing so. He stared at her bare breasts longingly, nodding at what she had said. "I know, it is a shame. I’ll get back to it soon enough, though."

Reaching out, he gently took one of her nipples between his fingers, giving it a soft pinch before letting go and reaching for the other. He did the same, his thumbs rolling over the sensitive buds as he admired them. "Fuck, they really are perfect. I'm going to love piercing these."

The touch had her squeezing her legs together. While it wasn’t the most pleasant thing to remember that her boyfriend had his hands on plenty other breasts when he had to pierce them, she assumed he wasn’t as liberal with the touching as he was now. “God, that feels nice.” She whispered, letting the shirt fall off her shoulders.

Harry's gaze darkened at the sight of her bare breasts, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. He realized he was getting a little ahead of himself, but he couldn't help it—she was just too captivating. "Yeah?" He smirked at her, letting go of her nipples before reaching up to play with her breasts in their entirety. He lifted them, feeling their weight in his hands, gently massaging with his fingers. He couldn't wait to do the same with the barbells in them.

“H….” Y/N’s voice was scolding but barely so, breathy as she leaned her head back and watched as he held them in his palms. His big fucking hands that felt so good whenever he touched her. “You’re being dirty… I hope you aren’t like this with your paying clients.” She teased.

Letting out a laugh, his thumbs brushing over her nipples as he teased them. "Oh, M’always the most professional with my clients. But with you...I can't help myself." He leaned in closer to whisper in her ear, his breath warm on her skin as he added "You're the only one I can be dirty with, Y/N. The only one I can touch however I want, say whatever I want. And right now, I want to bury my face between your tits and not come up for air."

“D’you think you should?” She whispered. “You know… Cause you’re not gonna be able to for a while while they’re healing… feel kinda bad that your favorite toys are gonna be for looking and no touching.”

 "I do think about it, believe me. I fucking hate that they'll be out of bounds for a while." He nuzzled into her neck, groaning softly as he pressed a kiss to the skin. "But at the same time, I'm fucking thrilled to get to see these beauties every day, even if it means no touching." 

“You are insane.” She widened her thighs for him to stand between her legs. “Luckily, I like it. So I give you permission to suck on them a little bit… one last taste for a bit.”

Harry's eyes lit up, and he didn't waste a moment in moving to comply with her request. He leaned forward, capturing one of the nipples between his lips and sucking gently. He could feel her arching into him, moaning softly as he teased the sensitive flesh.

Y/N let out a soft moan, the cool metal of his tongue piercing brushing against the pebbled nipple. his large hand held her breast in his hand, keeping it where he wanted as she leaned back on her hand, giving him access to her chest. “God, that piercing is the best thing you’ve done to yourself.” His tongue was the best one.

Harry chuckled softly against her skin, switching to the other nipple and giving it the same treatment. He was relishing in this moment, savoring the taste of her on his tongue. "I knew you'd like it." he murmured, his words vibrating through her breast.

Holding it still, giving his tongue free reign to tease the the sensitive skin. He could feel her heart beating faster under his touch, her breath hitching as he played with her. It was so lovely that his pleasure in giving was just as appreciated in receiving.

To Y/N, every movement of Harry's tongue sent sparks shooting directly to her cunt. It was as if every nerve ending in her body was concentrated on the tips of her tits, and the cool metal only heightened the sensation. With gentle yet firm sucks and teasing licks, he had her sensitive nipples hardened and tingling, the sensation making her arch into his face. One hand held the back of his neck, her own head falling back as he switched back to the other nipple.

“Jesus…” She laughed breathlessly as his teeth grazed the swollen skin. “Careful, baby. You’ve still got t’pierce it. Don’t make me too sensitive.”

Harry chuckled against her skin, pulling back slightly. "You think m’new at this? I know my girl’s tits, baby." He said, smirking as he pressed his forehead to hers. "I know just how far to push it." 

“Mhm.” She narrowed her eyes at him, reaching up to wipe some of his spit from the corner of his mouth. It was shocking how dirty he could get, considering how clean every other part of his life was. “Let’s go then. I gave you your time. I want my nipples pierced.”

Adjusting his position, albeit with a slight pout, he reached for the tray of sterilized needles and other equipment to get it all ready. He didn’t forget the main objective. "Yes ma'am, we’ll get right to it." He sighed, playfully saluting her.

It took little time before she had Harry carefully cleaning her nipples with a medicated wipe, making sure every inch of skin was prepped for the piercing. He then applied a small amount of numbing gel to minimize any discomfort, massaging it into her nipples with gentle fingers. He tried to innocently say it was to help it work better but she only had to give him a look before he let it be.

“Alright, darlin’. Gonna be just like how I told you, okay?” Giving her a reassuring smile, he settled in front of her. “S’gonna pinch, but it’ll be over quickly. When I start to do it, let out and breat through your nose.” Harry's hands were steady as he picked up the needle, focusing on her left nipple first. He pinched the skin lightly with a sterile clamp, ensuring that her piercing would be straight and perfect. He then aligned the needle, giving her the instruction to give her exhale before pushing it quickly through her skin.

She winced slightly as the needle pierced her skin, but Harry was right there to soothe her. He quickly attached the short piece of jewelry and moved to her other nipple, repeating the process. This time around, she knew what to expect and took it better than before.

Her agony lasted just a moment, but he didn't feel right about letting her endure pain alone. Once her nipples were pierced and the jewelry sturdily in place, he was thorough, making sure everything was clean and sanitary before removing his gloves and gripping her chin and placing a soft peck to her lips. “You, lovely, took that better than most people I’ve ever pierced.” His words were genuine. Y/N really had taken it better than grown men had.

“Really?” Her eyes had teared up a bit during the process and yeah- it had hurt.. But it was tolerable enough. She could feel it throbbing as the new piercings adjusted, Harry helping her pull her shirt back on. He had taken the liberty to button her top back, making her grin at how second nature it was for him. Harry liked to take care of her in any way, she was finding out more and more each day.

His thumb stroked over her cheek to wipe away a stray tear, letting out a little hum. "Yeah, honestly, you did amazing. I'm proud of you. Fuck, I bet you're a beautiful crier, aren't you?"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head as she caressed his jaw. The beard was growing in and she loved how it felt under her fingers as she ran them over his face. “You tell me everything I do is beautiful. I think you’re biased.”

Harry's heart warmed as she caressed his jaw. He fucking loved the feeling of her fingers against him. It had become second nature now for her to touch as she pleased and he couldn’t get enough of it. He leaned into her touch, nuzzling her hand with his cheek before pulling it down to kiss her knuckles.  "Yeah, m’totally fucking biased, but why the hell wouldn't I be?" He smirked down at her, stilling her hands and placing them both around the back of his neck before stealing another kiss. "I think you're beautiful, amazing, fuckin’ hilarious, smart as hell… sexy.” He smirked, making her scoff. “No, none of that. I mean every word.” Cradling her cheek, he took a moment to look at her before his eyes drifted down to his now covered work on her tits. “And M’more than honored that now a piece of my work is on your body.”

He watched as she looked down at her covered chest, he could tell she was admiring the work even while covered. "How do you feel?" He inquired lightly.

“I’m good.” It wasn’t really a pain now more than a soreness. But what she hadn’t expected was how it had… sort of turned her on. That pain and the reminder of it made her wake in a different way. Sure, they’d fucked around a bit and he had spanked her and stuff, but this sort of pain was different. Add in the fact that he had said in a fuck drunk lusty spiel against her ear the night before that he was horny over being the one to give her the piercing because it would feel like another claim to her, she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

So naturally, it was time to do something about it.

“I think you did a good job… so I think it’s time for your tip.” A mischievous smirk lit up her lips as she slowly slid to the floor from the bench, knees on the tile as she reached for his belt.

"Fuck, baby." Harry couldn't help but groan at her words, his hands finding her hair as she knelt on the floor in front of him. When she began to work on his belt, he felt his cock jerk to attention and he held his breath. “You don’t have t’do that, baby. I… I didn’t do it for you t’suck me.”

“I know.” Her warm hand ran over his cock, feeling it twitch up against her palm. “That’s partially why I wanna.” It was easy work getting his belt off, leaning in and kissing his cock over his jeans. “Is this an acceptable tip?”

Harry's eyes fluttered shut and he leaned back on the counter, his fingers slowly carding through her hair. "Y/N…" he groaned out, his hips moving forward when she mouthed at his erection over the denim. "…yeah, that's an… s’an acceptable tip. Only for you."

Harry's lips parted as he felt her teeth gently skim over the length of his cock through the fabric of his jeans. "Fuck, don’t…" Harry's hands tightened in her hair, his head falling back against the counter as she continued to mouth at his dick through his jeans. "Y/N, stop, please... I don't wanna cum like this. Want your mouth."

“Oh?” Her eyes lit up at how heavily it effected him. “What about this has you all worked up, baby? I’ve barely touched you…”

Harry's breath hitches in his throat as she speaks, his heart racing in his chest. He looks down at her, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and frustration. "It's because you're being so fucking gentle with me." His voice strained as she ran her finger over the waistline of uis jeans. Something about how she treated him, especially when she got that teasing look on her face, got him all riled up.

“Hm… you like me being all gentle, then?” Looking up at him through her lashes, she gently lifted her other hand under his shirt and lightly dragged her nails down his abdomen. “You like when m’nice and sweet to you?”

Harry shuddered at the feeling of her nails scraping against his skin, a low moan rising in his throat. "Fuck, yeah," he gasped out, fingers taking root in her hair. "I love when you're sweet to me… S’nice having such a sweet girl all for me."

“You’re so hot, H.” She grinned, fingers clasping on his button and slowly dragging down his zipper. “I love that you like that about me. Promise I’ll make this good.” his briefs had a wet patch from his cock leaking, her finger tracing over his twitching length. “Wanna be in my mouth?”

Harry's breath hitches as she speaks, his hips jerking forward as her finger traces over his leaking head. "Yes," he whispers, his voice strained. "I want to be in your mouth so fucking bad, m’baby..." He looks down at her, his eyes pleading. "Please, Y/N... just give me somethin’." His hands are tightened slightly in her hair, his body thrumming with need. 

Sharp jaw clenched, his body tensed as she slowly licked along the base of his shaft, lapping up the bead of moisture at the tip. He watches her, his eyes dark with desire, his voice ragged as he mumbled her name again, pulling her further in. Seeing him slightly desperate really did it for her- so she decided to give it to him. Slowly sucking the tip into her mouth, her tongue lapped over the leaking slit before she let herself sink down a little, pulling back with a soft ‘pop’ sound. “Like that?”

Harry groaned, his head falling back as she started to suck on the tip. "Yes, jus’ like that, baby. Suck me right into that perfect mouth.” Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock as she slowly took him in, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked. Seeing her lips stretched around his girth made him throb harder, his eyes nearly rolling back from the sensation. "That's it, sweetheart. Can I give you some more?"

Before she took him in deeper she nodded, letting Harry's hands find their place in her hair. Holding her in place as he started to thrust gently, his cock slid in and out of her mouth with a sinfully wet sound that had him reeling. His breath hitched as he looked down at her, his perfect vision as he watched his cock disappear between those perfect lips over and over.

Y/N looked like a fucking wet dream. Her lips were plump and stretched around his cock, her cheeks hollowing with every suck. Her eyes were half closed as she focused on him, her brows furrowed in concentration as she took him deeper. A string of spittle connected the tip of his cock to her lips for a moment as she pulled back before plunging back down, her nose nuzzling into the groomed thatch of hair on his groin. Her hands gripped his thighs for support, a blush rising on her cheeks as she continued to pleasure him, letting him lead.

When she took him all the way down, Harry threw his head back and let out a low moan. He felt her gag slightly, her lips brushing against his balls as she tried to take every inch of him. "Oh fuck, baby. That feels so fucking good. Knew you could do it. Tha’s my fucking girl." The guttural groan had her whimpering around him, teary eyes opening a little more to look up at him. It was one of her favorite parts about giving head- getting to see his pretty face contorted with pleasure that she was providing. 

Harry's thighs shook a little as she sucked him messily, her tongue working him over with each bob of her head. He felt himself getting closer to the edge, his breath coming in short, quick bursts. "Shit, sweetheart. M’gonna cum soon if you don't stop." Y/N was talented at giving head, better than anyone he had been with, and it was a blessing and a curse. A blessing because… obviously. A curse, because he didn’t last as long as he wanted to. He wanted to savor every bit of it.

Harry felt his balls tightening, signaling that he was about to come. He didn't want it to end so soon, but Y/N was just too good at what she did for him. He pulled her up and kissed her deeply, tasting himself on her lips. "Goddammit, angel."

She moaned as he kissed her, hand falling down to his spot soaked cock and stroking it in her palm. The wet click of her strokes meddled with their kissing, making her even more eager to finish him off. “It’s okay, baby.” She breathed against his mouth. “Don’t care if it’s quick. Just like making you feel good. I love how you feel in my mouth. Can’t get enough of you. Jus’ let me go back and suck you more, want you to finish in my mouth.”

Harry's breathing quickened at her words. "Shit. If you keep talking like that, I'm gonna fucking cum right now." He closed his eyes as she dropped back to her knees. It was only natural as she went back to sucking him, her hand firmly wrapped around the base of his cock as she gave tight strokes.

He really, really couldn't help the groan that escaped his lips as Y/N went back to sucking him. Her tongue worked its magic on his tip before she took him in as deep as she could, swallowing around him to make him hiss. He felt her hand moving in time with her mouth, creating a perfect rhythm.

Harry's eyes rolled back as he felt Y/N's warm lips delve down for a moment, licking over his sac before returning to his cock. He could already tell he wasn't going to last long, the feeling building in his balls. Grabbing onto her already messy hair, he pulled her closer. "Fuck, baby." He could feel his orgasm building, the feeling spreading from his balls and up his shaft. "Ah, fuck, Baby..” he whined, gritting his teeth. “M’gonna cum, keep fuckin’ doing that. My perfect girl, always make me feel so good. Filthy little thing getting on your knees for me after I pierce your tits. God, m’so obsessed with you." He was babbling a bit, but he couldn’t help it. It truly felt so good that he could pass out given the chance. 

Y/N could hear the desperation in Harry's voice, knew he was close. She loved giving him this kind of pleasure, the kind that made him lose it a little bit. Ever since their first time he had no qualms about showing her how much he adored her while she did this, and it only got better with time. As weird as it may seem, she really loved making him feel good, the weight of him in her mouth- but she wanted to finish him. She picked up her pace and used her free hand to fondle his balls.

"Fuuuck..." Harry hissed, his breath hitching as Y/N added that in, making him lose it. It was too much, too fucking much and he loved it. He couldn’t hold back anymore. With a loud moan, he came. It orgasm hit him hard and fast, his cock pulsing against her tongue as he released his load into her warm and waiting mouth. He tried his best to warn her, but he couldn't form words as he rode out his high. Y/N continued to suck him off as he came hard, milking the last of his orgasm out. She swallowed everything, looking up at him with a hum of satisfaction. Harry was utterly spent, and all that could leave his lips was a shaky grunt of her name.

That was the only thing she wanted to hear when he felt good.

Pulling off of him, a string of spit hung between her lips and the tip of his cock as she smiled up at him, utterly pleased with herself. Getting Harry to cum like that was a privilege, one that she was lucky enough to be the only one to do.

Letting out a laugh in disbelief, he grabbed a handful of Y/N's hair and pulled her up to meet his lips in a deep, messy kiss. He tasted himself on her lips and tongue, only adding to his post-orgasm haze. He held her there, kissing her sloppily as he tried to catch his breath. “Fuck me, that was incredible.” He mumbled into the kiss. “Can barely feel my fuckin’ feet.”

“Good.” Her smile was giddy as she pulled back to wipe her mouth, giving him her most innocent smile. “Hope you enjoyed your tip, baby. If I ever find out someone else did the same, I’ll kill them.” She said in an overly sweet tone.

He chuckled, pulling her close again, placing a sweet kiss on her lips. As if he’d ever need anyone else with the way she made him feel. "Only you do it for me, babe."

“Damn right.” She grumbled, pulling back and wiping her mouth. “Now that payment has been approved… I think I need you to feed me actual food, please.”

Still slightly reeling, he hummed, rubbing his hand over his messy hair as he watched her walk off to grab her coat. "Fine, fine. Let's get some food. Can’t let my number one client starve.”

[nanaken330]

In which you're talking about your Nanami's future plan

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Fem!reader Tws: Unedited, mention of pregnancy, pregnancy planning, y/n's shenanigans, and prob cringy too. Idk, tell me if I forget to add more. ^^

---

I hope the new year will bring more joy or at least kinder to us all.

Omake (of sorts(?), idk):

Y/n: Then the next thing I heard is the student saying u were rushing to find me at Shoko's office, lol. xD Ken: …I think that's pretty understandable considering you disappeared immediately right after casually dropping the news like that at me especially when I wasn't even prepared for it. Y/n: I just thought it'll be hilarious! xD Sorry, love. I won't do it again next time, promise! ;) Ken: … Y/n: Hm? :D Ken: …There won't be a next time again? Y/n: ? :D Yeah! Pinky promise! Ken: But you promised me children? Y/n: … Y/n: Wait pause, I think we're not even talking about the same topic.. ;;; Ken: I seem to recall about you telling me about having more than one earlier when we were texting. Y/n: …Now that's a little bit of a reach, I don't think I ever said that?? Ken: I do, I remember it vividly 😊 Y/n: Actually, you know what? Let me go get my phone (about to stand up) Ken: No, no. (Holds her still) Your phone's battery's dead, remember? It's currently in the middle of charging. Y/n: (Successfully Distracted) Oh? :D You found my charger already? Ken: I haven't, unfortunately, but I will try to find it later when we're home. Y/n: (disappointed) Oh, alright then. Then who's charger are you using? Ken: I bought a new one while I was driving my way here 😊 Y/n: You mean racing your way here… Ken: Details, darling😊 Now back to the baby plan we were talking about, I- The end.

[amiaclone]

hiii can u pretty pretty pretty please make something about reader comforting daeho after his panic attack (fluff) 😣😣😣🙏🙏🙏

YES IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS!

I’ll base this off how i handle my panic attacks incase I’m disrespectful 😭

“Daeho? “Daeho?!” *You noticed him giving the aminos to Hyun ju* “Im sorry i…can’t do it.”

*He was leaning behind the beds*

*It all clicked to you the shaky voice shaky heartbeat and ran over immediately*

*There was the boy who you’ve loved for awhile shook in terror you aren’t a therapist but even you know stuff like this*

“Daeho..”

*He turned and seemed shameful and guilty*

“Im sorry…”

*You kneeled down to him placing a hand on his forehead rubbing it soothly*

“It’s alright….Im here….”

*It only calmed him down a tiny bit he still seemed shook however you knew how to handle situations like this*

“Count to seven…” *He nodded barely* “One…” “Two….” “T-Three…”

*As he counted to seven he seemed to get calmer by seven he seemed tense but a lot calmer which relieved you.*

“Thank you….for everything.”

*He leaned on your shoulder while your fingers strolled through his hair*

“You don’t need to…”

“No i mean…..you’re always so kind to me….im lucky to have you in my life…”

*Your heart warmed at that*

“You’re welcome then….how long has it been since we knew each other….seven years?”

*He nodded* “Im glad i met you that day…..you dont deserve to be in a game like this..”

*You smiled*

“Neither do you…”

*After a while it seemed he went to sleep you turned to him and whispered softly “I love you..”

*Unknowist to you he heard that*

Hope you liked iittt it was originally gonna be written different but it restarted 💀

[mclarengf]

il faut que je te dise quelque chose

a new years party? i bet absolutely nothing will happen.

[1.1k]

note: happy new year yall!!! i hope 2025 brings u all a lot of happiness and good luck x

“i’m gonna do it.”

lando looked up from his phone, “what?”  i haven’t been listening to you at all.”

you pouted at him before repeating yourself, “i’m gonna kiss him tonight. at midnight. for real.”

“wait, oscar?”

you flicked him square in the forehead for his stupidity.

“who else, dummy? i’m gonna sit him down and tell him how i feel, and then, if he somehow feels the same way, i’m gonna kiss him.”

he barks out a laugh and tells you, “about time!”

you liked oscar, and lando was the only other person who knew it. ever since he figured it out in miami, lando had made your life miserable, constantly teasing you if you blushed after oscar complimented you, or if you lost your train of thought when he walked in the room.

“anyway, are you done yet? max wants to know when he should pick us up.”

some of your friends in monaco are throwing a new years party tonight, and you and lando, your closest friend here, are getting ready for it in your apartment. 

well, you’re getting ready. he’s dressed already, in a simple button-up and jeans, and has been tapping at something on his phone for the past 20 minutes— something which looks suspiciously like jetpack joyride. 

you tell lando you have to finish doing your hair, but will probably be done around the time max gets to your place if he leaves now. 

“alright,” he slaps his knees as he stands up, “you have to tell me how it goes, yeah?”

he claps you on the back before leaving to the kitchen, probably to start his night of drinking. 

—

the party was loud. whoever was dj’ing had to have hearing damage, because anyone else wouldn’t be able to be in such close proximity to the bass-boosted speakers.

it was about an hour til midnight, and annoyingly, you still hadn’t seen oscar. that’s why you were now making the rounds trying to find him, sliding past groups of people you didn’t recognise and briefly saying hi to the ones you did. 

you were trying to navigate around a stupidly placed configuration of chairs when you bumped into someone.

“i’m so sorry-“ your apology died on your tongue when you saw who it was.

“oscar!”

he greets you with a hug and a quick kiss to the cheek, “how’ve you been? i haven’t seen you since the championship party!”

you smile up at him.

“i’m good! i’ve been a bit busy at home, so i haven’t been able to do anything else. how are you? you look good!”

you take a step back from him to take the sight of him in. he must have arrived a while ago, if his sweaty hair and the drink in his hand are anything to go by.

“you look beautiful, by the way.”

you’ve never been able to handle his compliments well, not when he always tells you like he really means it. 

you manage to keep your composure enough, though, and stutter out a ‘thank you’ before returning the sentiment. 

“you look really good, too.”

he smiles shyly at the ground, then gestures to a nearby booth so you can continue your conversation. 

as you make your way over, he places his hand on the small of your back, subtly guiding you through the small crowd in between you and your destination. the feeling of his hand on your skin burns, desperately drawing your attention. you try to ignore it though, for fear of blushing so hard that oscar will be able to see it, despite the strobing lights.  

wait, why is oscar staring at you? shit, is it that obvious already? 

you press a hand to your cheek as you sit, trying to feel how warm you actually are, but before you can properly judge your temperature, oscar picks up your talk where you had left it, and the two of you fall back into easy conversation. 

you talk about lots of things, in a way you can only comfortably do so around oscar, and you only take notice of the time again when the people around you start chanting down from 60.

“so, oscar, i was thinking…” you trail off, taking another sip of your drink as you consider how to word your confession.

he looks at you attentively, waiting for whatever you’re about to say. 

“i wanted to tell you that-“ you cut yourself off and sigh. this isn’t working. 

maybe you should just wait til another time. there’s no need to rush anything, you suppose.

35… 34… 33…

oscar has a strange glint in his eye, but you brush it off as being his amusement at your evident speechlessness. 

“nevermind!”

you try to smile like nothing’s wrong, but you’re cursing at yourself on the inside for being such a pussy. 

28… 27… 26…

you decide to switch the topic.

“shouldn’t you find some girl to kiss at midnight?”

he shakes his head, and this time it’s his turn to drink before he talks. 

“nah, i’m happy staying here with you. it’s nice.”

you melt at the thought of oscar being content to spend his new years with you over everyone else at the party. now, if only you could tell him how you’d like to spend the rest of your life with him over everyone else in the world, you’d be very happy.

17… 16… 15…

you spend the last fifteen seconds of your year internally debating whether you should still kiss oscar. i mean, if it’s a new years kiss and he has no idea about your feelings, then it’d be fine, right? 

you almost don’t realise it’s turned midnight because you’re too preoccupied, playing a mental game of eeny meeny miny mo to solve your dilemma. 

the time is brought to your attention, though, when oscar places his hand on your cheek, says, “i’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” and brings you close for a new years kiss.

you could swear you feel fireworks exploding in your chest when your lips touch, and it only takes you a second to realise what’s going on before you respond eagerly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. 

you could die happy now, you think. his lips are so soft, and they fit with yours perfectly. you don’t even mind the taste of jack and coke on his tongue. somehow, it all blends together into one thing— oscar. 

everything is oscar, oscar, oscar. 

when you part, you’re slightly dazed from how passionate the kiss was.

“so, what were you gonna tell me?” 

although his cheeks are also flushed, and his pupils are slightly blown, oscar’s still got a cheeky grin on his face as he catches his breath. 

you roll your eyes, knowing full-well by this point that he knew just as much as you did, the whole time. 

“happy new year, oscar.” 

he raises his glass and tilts it towards you for a cheers.

“happy new year.”

you clink your drinks together, and as he slings an arm around your shoulders, you think, this year may turn out really well. 

[thatdesigirl17]

fading

mattheo riddle x fem!reader

based on this request

warnings: language, a lot of angst, heartbreak?, reader being really in love with mattheo, overthinking

requests are open.

Y/N and Mattheo had been dating for almost two months now. It seemed to be going perfectly, the phase where they couldn’t keep their hands off each other and would talk about anything, do things for each other, look after each other andjust crave each other every moment, their honeymoon phase as her friends phrased it. Y/N was happy, Mattheo was perfect, she sometimes wondered if he was even real or if had she just made him up. 

It was just another day for them at Hogwarts with their classes. Y/N was leaning on the pillar in one of the arches near the classroom, waiting for her boyfriend. Mattheo soon came in, walking hurriedly as he smiled as soon as her eyes landed on Y/N. ‘You’re late.’, she said, crossing her arms across her chest. ‘Sorry, love, you know the guys.’, he said, leaning in andkissing her softly. The kiss made Y/N forget everything as he pulled away, a smirk gracing his lips. She smiled, holding his gaze as he looked down at her and then noticed as his gaze faltered, flickering over to the corridor. Confusion grazed Y/N’s mind, never once did Mattheo’s attention ever leave her, that was until now, she turned her head slightly, to look at what her boyfriend’s eyes were following.

A girl, from Ravenclaw, was probably a year younger as she passed them in the halls. Y/N’s stomach dropped as she turned to look at Mattheo, who was now focused on her again. ‘Let’s get to class, love, wouldn’t wanna be late, yeah?’, he said, striking a charming smile as he intertwined his hand with hers and led them to the classroom. Y/N pushed her doubts away for the moment, concluding that she was probably overthinking, following Mattheo into the class. 

A few days later, Y/N sat in the Transfiguration classroom. Mattheo had told her that he was going to skip this class and go smoke with Theo and Enzo, it was normal for him and Y/N was accustomed to this habit of his by now. ‘Alright, that’s all for today. I have some rather important commitments to adhere to. I hope that all you will complete the reading assigned till the next class.’, McGonagall’s stern voice echoed in the classroom as she cut the lesson short. Y/N packed up her stuff and made her way to the spot near the Quidditch pitch where the guys used to smoke. 

She exited the classroom and walked towards the courtyard, in a deserted hallway, just when she heard the sound of laughter, belonging to Mattheo which she recognised immediately. She turned as she followed the sound, peeking through a pillar as the sight in front of her made her step falter and her stomach drop. Mattheo was sitting on the ground, with the same girl from days earlier, the younger Ravenclaw who had soft blonde curls. Y/N looked away for a moment as if the sight before her would vanish and then rechecked, it was definitely her boyfriend, leaning close to the other girl like he did with her. Y/N took a deep breath and made her way to the common room, her mind flooding with thoughts and feelings. 

She was probably just a friend, right? Mattheo is allowed to have friends? Maybe I’m just overreacting, it’s nothing. Y/N’s mind raced as she entered the common room. She sat on the couch by the fireplace, fidgeting with her sleeve as she tried to process what she had just witnessed.

‘Hey love.’, her thoughts were stopped as Mattheo entered the common room, sitting down next to her. She smiled softly at him, ‘McGonagall ended the class early today, I came to look for you but you guys weren’t there.’ She looked up at him expectantly as he shifted to face her, ‘Yeah we got done early and then when we were walking back, a group of juniors wanted some help and we got held up.’ ‘Oh, what help?’, she enquired further. ‘About some directions. Theo and Enzo went with them and I stayed back with the others, they had some questions.’, he explained nonchalantly. ‘Huh.’, she exhaled, wanting to believe his story but it just seemed so out of character for him to just help. ‘What’s up, darling?’, he asked studying her expressions, sighing. ‘Oh, nothing, it just seems a bit weird that’s all.’, she remarked. ‘Weird? What I can’t help people now?’, he scoffed. ‘You usually don’t.’, she huffed. ‘What’s gotten into you, love? Why are you being like this?’, he asked, leaning a bit closer and looking at her cautiously. ‘Nothing, just tired.’, she said as she made her wayup the stairs to her dorm. Her mind raced with confusion, he was lying but maybe he was just leaving out some details. The door to her dorm opening silenced her thoughts for a minute. Mattheo followed her as he got into her bed right next to her, slowly kissing her temple, mumbling against her skin, ‘I love you, Y/N.’ 

She pretended to sleep, as she tried to convince herself to believe her boyfriend, to stop overthinking and to stop being so insecure and jealous. 

Soon, all of this was forgotten and things returned to normal, almost. Mattheo got busy with the Quidditch season coming up and couldn’t spend as much time with her. Y/N noticed how Mattheo didn’t do things that he used to do, like wrapping an arm around her everywhere, resting his head on top of her and kissing her forehead, he seemed a bit distant. She thought that phase in their relationship was gradually fading like it does after some time and didn’t think about it much. 

‘Matt, did you take back your green jumper? The one you gave to me when we first started going out.’, Y/N asked as she searched her wardrobe. The two of them were currently in her dorm. ‘No.’, he replied shortly as he lay on her bed, his body tensing at her question ever so slightly. ‘I can’t seem to find it.’, she muttered as she continued searching, unaware of his reaction. ‘Leave it. I’ll give you a new one. Let’s just go to dinner for now, yeah?’, he remarked as he got up from the bed and walked over to her. ‘You’re right.’, she said, glancing at the time, ‘We should go if we wanna eat.’ She reached out to hold his hand as she intertwined their fingers, following him to the Great Hall. A few steps before the entrance to the Great Hall, he drops her hand, stuffing it into the pocket of his jacket instead. A pang of hurt hits Y/N as she looks at him, her brows furrowing slightly. ‘It’s cold tonight.’, he said with an unreadable expression, her voice giving out the slightest bit of irritation, further confusing Y/N. Whenever it was cold, Mattheo would stuff both of their hands in his pocket, not letting go of her hand. ‘Right.’, she breathed out, feigning a small smile, trying to hide her hurt. 

Something wasn’t right, she was sure of it now. The changing behaviour, and the distant nature, meant something. Her mind recalled the past few weeks, the Ravenclaw girl, it had to be her right? Did Mattheo cheat on her? The man who was so whipped for her was now not? Her eyes scanned the Ravenclaw table, stopping right on the girl they were searching for. 

The colour from her face drained, her gut-wrenching inside her as she took in the sight of her. Her hair was tied in a ponytail and she adorned a green jumper. Mattheo’s green jumper, Y/N was sure it was his, she had worn it a thousand times before, and there was no way she could have mistaken that piece of clothing. She stopped in her tracks, as the girl turned around to face her friend, Y/N's heart shattered further as she noticed the scrunchie that was entangled in her hair. It was hers, it was Y/N’s favourite scrunchie that Mattheo insisted on wearing, to remember her when she was away and to let everyone know he was hers, as he had said when they had just started going out.  She took in a shaky breath, tears welling up in her eyes as she saw Mattheo walking down to the Slytherin table, unaware that she had stopped following him. She turned on her heel and hurriedly stepped out of the Great Hall. Mattheo, who finally noticed her absence, turned back, calling out her name and following her. 

She rushed through the halls and turned around the corner, her tears streaming down her face. Her emotions channelled from sadness, anger and frustration all at once as Mattheo’s voice echoed in her ears. She turned around and yelled, her fury evident in her voice, ‘Tell me you didn’t do it. Tell me what I saw was not true.’ Mattheo stopped, his expression reading between annoyance and anger, ‘What are you talking about?’ ‘Don’t. Don’t you dare fucking lie to me or play innocent? Don’t make me feel any more stupid, do at least that for me, yeah?’, she spat, her tears still running as she stepped closer, fisting his collar. ‘You did it, didn’t you? You cheated on me with that Ravenclaw. She was wearing your jumper, the one you gave to me! My scrunchie that you begged me to let you have!’, she said through gritted teeth. Her eyes searched his, the guilt evidently surfacing in his brown orbs. She scoffed, letting him go as he stumbled back. She ran her hand through her hair, ‘How could I be so fucking stupid? It was right there in front of me the entire fucking time.’ She took another shaky breath, she could feel her heart aching, her chest tightening. ‘Y/N, I-‘, Mattheo’s voice cut through, soft as he reached out to hold her. She took a step back and held up her hand as a guard, ‘Spare me the shit, Mattheo. Don’t act like you care now, you made it evident that you never did.’ She wiped her tears as Mattheo looked at her with guilt, silently pleading with her to let him explain himself. ‘Y/N, please, I didn’t mean for it to happen. I did love you, I just-‘, he looked at her only to see that she wasn’t paying any attention to his words.

‘I hope you know what you did, Riddle. Don’t ever talk to me again. If I knew I would have to see you fall out of love with me like this, I never would have loved you.’, she said turning away and leaving him stranded in the hallway. 

[sarahaktozier]

Anonymous asked: hii, saw your post asking for requests so... i think some headcannons on first impressions between eddie x reader (maybe they bump into each other during lunch, love this ideia for some reason), which reader is introverted and has a whismgoth/soft goth style (not exactly onto the subculture) would be awesome if you're ok writing it. thank you!

A\N: Hi! thanks for requesting this love the idea. sorry it took so long btw. i hope it's how you imagined it.

-okay, first of all, i can see him taking interest in th interoverted girl who is Whimsigoth and no one really pays attention to

-he had definitely noticed you before and stared at you several times (not in a creepy way, of course :))

-you had also noticed him and thought him and overall the hellfire club was cool, unlike the other students in the school.

-you where in your last year and so was he, even though you had a 2 year age difference (i saw somewhere that Eddie is 21 so we are gonna stick to that)

-before actually meeting you and talking to you, Eddie asked whoever he knew and could about you. "you and her are in the same history class, right?". "what is her name?" "how old is she?" yeah, literally everything

-and you always observed him. you noticed all the crazy shit he does and find it interesting\amusing\funny.

- you never had the courage to go and actually talk to him though.

-when you met was most likely the most awkward memory of both of your lives.

-you were walking in the cafeteria and the two of you bumped into each other.

-you where literally a blushing mess when that happened

-and he just scratched the back of his neck helping you pick your books up "uh....yeah...sorry about that"

-you'd shake your head trying to hide the blush "it's alright"

-after some moments of awkward silence and him helping you to pick your books up he finally talks "i like your style"

-you'll just smile, feeling a little flustered by the sudden attention "t-thanks"

-he'd chuckle finding your shyness interesting and kinda....cute?

-he would ask you to sit with him for lunch and even though you didn't really like talking to people you agreed.

-he introduced you to the hellfire club

-it would only last as a small 'hi' though because he would sit on the corner of the side of the table that was your side and you too would start talking.

-he would talk about DnD, metal music, etc. etc. etc. until.... "wait, you like Iron Maiden, Black Sabbath and Metallica?"

-your eyes lit up instantly and smiled "and here i was, thinking you can't get any cooler" he'd say with a smirk

-and of course, at the end of lunch you forgot to ask any actual information about each other: last name, age, etc, etc, etc.

-it's a good thing though, now you both have excuse's to see each other again ;)

[thursdayinspace]

So, who agrees that revival Mulder and Scully have zero fucks left to give once they're back together? And like having fun without restraint or regrets? Even when they're on the phone with their boss? Anyway, here's a smutty little thing.

Ever since she moved back in, they haven’t been able to keep their hands off of each other. It doesn’t matter what kinds of plans they make on their days off, sooner or later they end up on the couch making out like teenagers, and most of the time it ends with at least one orgasm.

He’s on his back on the couch and she’s on top of him when his phone rings, and he groans. There’s only one reason they’d be getting a call on a Saturday.

“We could ignore it,” she whispers against his lips, and he wants to agree, but they both know that’s not an option.

“We can’t.”

“I know.”

She sits up and he snatches his phone off the coffee table. “Yes?” He knows he sounds annoyed, but Skinner is used to it by now. Mulder feels a little sorry, but also he’s reconnecting with the love of his life after a separation that was really hard on both of them, and he’d just like to be allowed one afternoon without being interrupted.

There’s been sudden progress on a case they’d written off as unsolvable days ago. Of course there is. “I’m sorry, but this really can’t wait,” Skinner says, and Mulder runs a hand over his face with a deep sigh.

“Not even an hour or two?”

As he listens to Skinner giving him details on an investigation that he really doesn’t fucking care about right now, Scully slides off the couch onto the floor and he raises his eyebrows at her in question. She gives him a wicked smile and reaches for his fly, and his eyes widen as he realizes what she’s about to do. His erection that had been flagging at the sound of their boss’s voice is back in a second and he feels a bit dizzy, but obediently lifts his hips as she pulls his pants down right along with his underwear and tugs them off his legs. Skinner is still talking, but Mulder stops listening as Scully wraps her hand firmly around him and slides him into her mouth.

“—probably won’t take long,” Skinner is saying, and Mulder squeezes his eyes shut.

“No, it won’t,” he agrees. He has no idea what they’re talking about. He cards his free hand through Scully’s hair, careful not to pull too hard.

Scully bobs her head experimentally a few times, and then sinks lower and simply swallows him down without warning.

“Fuck,” Mulder says, and Skinner makes a noise of assent on the other end of the line.

“Yes, it’s an unexpected development.”

“You could say that.” The words fall from his lips through a sharp exhale. He bites his lip and drops his head back against the couch as Scully pulls back up slowly with her tongue pressed to the underside of his cock.

Skinner is reading out an address to him now and he does his best to listen while trying not to whimper and beg as Scully’s talented mouth does something amazing to the tip of his cock, and god he needs to end this phone call. Right now.

“Anyway,” Skinner says, “they found—”

The rest of the sentence gets lost in a spike of heat as Scully takes his balls in her hand. He’s gonna combust. He’s finally gonna prove to her once and for all that spontaneous human combustion is a real thing that happens to real people. She’s licking his dick like a fucking popsicle now as she fondles him and he looks down at her, angling the phone away from his mouth, hoping it will keep Skinner from hearing his shaky, heavy breathing.

“Agent Mulder?” he hears. “Do you agree?”

“Uhhn,” he gets out. “ Yeah. Uhhhh. Yes.”

“Okay. I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”

“God,” he whispers as Scully wraps her lips around him again, her hand jerking off the part of him her mouth can’t reach. “I mean good. Yeah. Very good.”

There’s silence for a moment before Skinner asks, “Is everything alright?”

“Mmmmhmm,” he answers. “Great. Perfect.”

“So you’re on your way?”

“Oh, yes,” he says enthusiastically, heart hammering in his chest, every muscle in his body clenching up as he spirals closer and closer to the edge. “I’m definitely coming.”

“With agent Scully.”

“She’s gonna come to,” Mulder promises, and he’s never been more grateful for anything in his life when he hears the call disconnect. He drops the phone and finally lets himself moan out loud as Scully slides her mouth down again and back up, sucking him hard, cheeks hollowed out.

He comes so hard he blacks out for a second, vaguely aware of her stroking him through it, his thighs trembling as his hips buck up into her wonderful, hot mouth.

“Oh fuck, oh shit,” he pants once the world swims back into focus, and he watches her wipe her mouth before climbing into his lap. She takes his hand to guide it between her thighs. At some point, she must have taken her own pants off.

She’s so fucking wet. His fingers slip into her and she grips his wrist tightly as she frantically rides his hand. It takes seconds before she cries out and comes, her free hand fisted into the fabric of his shirt, and he’s never seen anything hotter in his life.

They end up the way they started: he on his back and Scully on top of him, panting and boneless.

“That was…” he says.

“Yeah,” she agrees.

“Do you think Skinner could tell?”

She chuckles softly. “Does it matter?”

“No,” he says. It doesn’t. Nothing matters except her. “You’re amazing.”

“Thank you,” she says. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

He laughs and hugs her tight. They’ll have to get going soon, but he thinks they’re allowed five more minutes.

[creating--memories]

This is how it went

Hey everyone this is my first attempt at writing a Pazzi series. This one is a bit short, but if people like it I can make the next chapter longer. I want this series to outline Pazzi's "friends to lovers" arc and capture their story. Let me know if you have any suggestions, this first chapter is really just setting up the series.

word count: 900

themes: slight angst? fluff, friends to lovers

Tw: none I think

Part 1: She has the prettiest eyes I've ever seen

It was the 2016 U16 USA trials. Paige sat at the end of the bench, her leg bouncing nervously as her foot tapped a rapid rhythm on the hardwood floor. The past year had brought a whirlwind of media attention and hype around the Hopkins star, but no matter how much praise she received, Paige still got nervous when it was time to compete. She bit her nails, tapping her ring finger to her lips, the anxious energy in her chest making her heart race.

"Paige!" A familiar voice broke through her thoughts.

"Come on, we're up," Caitlin called, jogging ahead of her, already a few steps onto the court.

"Right. Sorry, yeah, coming!" Paige scrambled to her feet and followed, her focus snapping back to the task at hand.

The girls were gearing up for a scrimmage—red jerseys versus blue, classic Team USA style. Paige took a deep breath, reminding herself to focus.

“Alright, time to lock in,” she muttered under her breath as she adjusted her stance, waiting for the coach’s whistle to signal tip-off. The gym hummed with the sounds of squeaking sneakers and the rhythmic bounce of the ball.

Paige quickly sprinted to her assignment, matching up with one of the opposing players. The girl was new to her—light brown skin, hair parted into tight French braids. Paige dropped low into her defensive stance, eyes tracking both the ball and her opponent.

Paige wasn’t one to brag, but she knew her game was ahead of most. She was usually able to stay a step ahead of her competition, and her confidence showed. But this girl... she was different. There was something about the way she moved—quick, calculated, and deliberate. Paige had to stay alert; she wasn’t about to be outplayed this time.

The ball whipped around the perimeter, and suddenly it was passed to her assignment, setting her up for an open shot. Paige reacted instantly, closing out hard and getting into position to contest. But the girl was faster—too fast. She exploded past Paige’s defense, catching her off guard, and without hesitation, the shot went up. Paige leaped, trying to swat it, but the ball swished cleanly through the net, a flawless shot.

As the red team celebrated the score, the girl shot Paige a sly, confident smile, already sprinting back down the court, ready to transition to defense. Paige cocked her head, an impressed grin forming on her face. Now this was going to be a fun game.

The final buzzer echoed through the gym. The blue team won, 71-65, with Paige putting up 23 points and the brown-haired girl, whose name Paige still didn’t know, finishing with 19. As the teams shuffled off the court and headed for the locker room, Paige jogged ahead, hoping to catch up with the girl she’d just battled against.

She tapped her on the shoulder. The girl turned around, her big brown eyes gleaming under the harsh fluorescent lights. Paige’s heart skipped a beat as she awkwardly shifted her weight from foot to foot.

“Uh, hey. I just wanted to say, you were really impressive out there. You’ve got an amazing shot,” Paige stammered.

The girl chuckled lightly, a warm smile playing on her lips. “Thanks,” she replied.

Paige smiled nervously. “You really surprised me. You’ve got game,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

The girl smirked. “You’re not bad yourself, white girl.” The teasing tone in her voice was friendly, not mocking.

Paige laughed, a little embarrassed but also flattered.

“I’m Paige, by the way,” she said, extending her hand.

“Azzi,” the girl replied, shaking her hand firmly. “Nice to meet you, Paige.”

Paige could feel the tension in her shoulders ease slightly as Azzi’s grip was strong and confident.

"Looking forward to our next matchup," Azzi added, playfully nudging Paige with her shoulder as she walked by.

The brief contact sent a jolt through Paige’s body, her skin tingling where Azzi’s bare shoulder brushed hers. A warm rush spread through her chest, and her palms began to sweat. She wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something about Azzi that made Paige—usually so confident—feel suddenly shy. It was a new feeling, something she hadn’t quite experienced before.

Trying to shake it off, Paige forced a smile. “Yeah, me too.”

“Azzi!” A voice called from across the locker room, and Azzi turned toward it, offering Paige one last smile before jogging off in the other direction.

Paige took a long drink from her water bottle, the cool liquid sliding down her throat as she tried to shake off the fluttering in her chest. She replayed the exchange in her head, still confused by the mix of admiration and something more that Azzi had stirred in her.

Is this what it’s like to want to be friends with someone? Paige thought, though deep down, she knew there was something different about Azzi. It wasn’t just friendship she felt, but something she couldn’t quite name yet.

“Yeah,” Paige murmured to herself. “There’s a first time for everything."

[misshoneyimhome]

I’m not sure if you’ll write this but I’m dying for it and your writing is incredible. Willy Nylander dating a Bruins fan PLEASEEE

Hey there, love 🤗

Alright, so this feels more like a blurb than a proper fic chapter, but I just wanted to say I absolutely love your idea—and I hope I’ve captured at least a bit of it 😘 I don’t know much about being a Bruins fan, so I just followed my intuition on that one 😉

I will say, though, I can definitely see the potential for a series here—not necessarily based on this particular one-shot, but in general, there’s so much to explore! It might be worth diving into - so many details I didn't include 🥰

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this as it is 😘

Tropes & Warnings: William Nylander x reader, enemies to lovers, rival teams, no warnings, just fluff

Word count: 3.2K

➼｡ﾟ

Rivals in Love I William Nylander

It had been a long day at work, and you were in desperate need of coffee before tackling the rest of your to-do list. The little café tucked on a quiet street near downtown Boston was your go-to spot. The place always had the best lattes and, more importantly, it was never crowded.

You pushed open the door, the tiny bell jingling to announce your arrival, and stepped inside. The smell of fresh coffee beans and warm pastries instantly soothed your nerves. But you were so focused on debating between a caramel macchiato or a cold brew that you didn’t notice someone walking toward you until—

Crash.

Hot coffee spilled down the front of your sweatshirt, and a sharp gasp escaped your lips.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” a voice said.

You looked up, your initial annoyance faltering when you saw the man responsible. He was tall, his blond hair slightly dishevelled, with bright blue eyes staring at you apologetically.

“It’s fine,” you muttered, though the sticky heat soaking through your shirt suggested otherwise.

“Here,” he said quickly, grabbing a handful of napkins from a nearby table and handing them to you. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. That’s on me.”

“No kidding,” you replied, dabbing at the mess. Then, as you glanced back up at him, recognition dawned. “Wait a second… I know you.”

He tilted his head, a small smirk forming on his lips. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “You’re William Nylander.”

His smirk grew, but before he could respond, you added, “I guess it makes sense. Leafs players are used to fumbling.”

His eyebrows shot up, and then he let out a laugh—a genuine, hearty laugh that caught you off guard. “Wow. That’s the first thing you say to me?”

“Don’t take it personally,” you said with a shrug, trying to ignore how ridiculously good-looking he was. “I’m a Bruins fan.”

“Ah, that explains it,” he said, his smirk returning. “I’ve been told your kind can be… difficult.”

You rolled your eyes. “Difficult or honest?”

“Depends on the day,” he replied, and there was something in his tone—teasing, but also intrigued.

You expected him to brush off the conversation and move on, but instead, he stuck around, asking for your name and making casual small talk while the barista quickly made William a replacement drink.

“I’ll pay for hers too,” William insisted, handing over his card before you could protest.

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he said, meeting your gaze with an easy smile. “Consider it an apology. And maybe a peace offering? Even if you are a Bruins fan.”

“Fine,” you said, trying to suppress the small smile creeping onto your lips. “But this doesn’t mean I like you or your team.”

“Fair enough,” he said, grabbing his own drink from the counter. But as he turned to leave, he hesitated. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Will you be at the game tomorrow night?”

“Why? Hoping to convert me?”

“No,” he said, his grin widening. “Just wondering if I’ll have to skate extra hard to impress you.”

Before you could respond, he gave you a playful wink and walked out the door, leaving you standing there, completely caught off guard.

_

The next evening, you found yourself in a dilemma. You hadn’t planned on attending the Bruins-Leafs game—you usually watched from the comfort of your couch, where you could yell at the TV without judgment. But after yesterday’s unexpected encounter, a part of you couldn’t shake the thought of William Nylander skating with that cocky grin, wondering if you’d shown up.

Against your better judgment, you grabbed your Coyle jersey and headed to TD Garden, promising yourself it was only because your best friend, a Leafs fan, had an extra ticket. You weren’t going because of him.

Right?

The Garden was buzzing with energy. You cheered along with the crowd as the Bruins took the ice, booing extra loud when the Leafs players followed. Your friend rolled her eyes at your antics, but you didn’t care.

As the game started, you tried not to pay attention to the opposing #88, but it was impossible. William was everywhere—stealing pucks, setting up plays, and skating with an effortless grace that made you grit your teeth.

And midway through the second period, he scored. The Leafs bench erupted as the puck sailed past Swayman and into the net. You groaned, burying your face in your hands while your friend celebrated.

“That’s your guy,” she teased, elbowing you.

“He’s not my anything,” you shot back, though your cheeks burned.

As the arena quieted for the faceoff, you glanced down at the ice and caught him looking in your direction. He wasn’t even subtle about it—he skated slowly, his gaze locking with yours as he passed your section.

And then, to your horror, he winked.

You sank lower in your seat, cursing yourself for even being here.

After the game—a crushing overtime win for Toronto, much to your dismay—you were about to make your escape when your phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number.

Unknown: Enjoy the game, Bruins fan?

You froze, staring at the screen.

You: How did you get my number?!

Unknown: I have my ways. A little birdie at the café helped me out.

You could practically hear the smugness in his voice.

You: I can’t believe you’re this desperate for validation.

Unknown: And yet, you came to the game. What does that say about you?

You hated how much his teasing made you smile.

And a few days later, you were back at your favourite café, quietly working through some emails when a shadow fell across your table. You didn’t even have to look up to know who it was.

“You know, I’m starting to think you only come here hoping to bump into me,” William said, setting his coffee down across from you.

“I was here first,” you replied, glancing up at him. “Shouldn’t you be in Toronto or something?”

“We have a few days off,” he said casually, leaning back in his chair. “Thought I’d stick around Boston for a bit. It’s growing on me. Besides, my friend lives here; Pasta, you know him.”

“Careful,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re starting to sound like a Bruins fan.”

He chuckled. “Not a chance. But I could be convinced to stick around… if you let me take you out sometime.”

The audacity of this man. You should’ve laughed in his face, reminded him of the years of heartbreak his team had inflicted on yours. But instead, you found yourself smiling.

“Fine,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. “But don’t think this changes anything. I’m still wearing my Coyle jersey.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” he said with a grin.

_

A couple of weeks had passed since your impromptu coffee shop agreement to a “date” with William. You’d been casually out together a few times since then—dinners at quiet restaurants, coffee runs, even a casual walk through Boston Common—but you still couldn’t quite figure him out.

William Nylander, the Toronto Maple Leafs’ golden boy, had women fawning over him wherever he went. Yet somehow, you, a loud, opinionated Bruins fan, were the one he seemed determined to spend his free time with.

So, when he casually dropped the idea of you coming to Toronto to watch a game, your first instinct was to laugh it off.

“Right,” you said with a chuckle, taking a sip of your coffee. “I’m sure I’d fit right in at Scotiabank Arena in my Coyle jersey.”

“I’m serious,” he said, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “You’d be the most interesting person there. Besides, you’ve already seen us play in Boston. It’s only fair you experience it on my turf.”

You waved him off, brushing it aside as another one of his playful jabs.

But then, the next day, a notification lit up your phone: a plane ticket from Boston to Toronto, sent by none other than William.

You stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity.

This had to be a joke, right? A Leafs player going out of his way to invite you, a Bruins fan, to Toronto? It didn’t make sense.

He had options—lots of options. The kind of options who probably didn’t wear rival jerseys to dinner or roast him about Toronto’s lack of playoff success. So why was he bothering with you?

Your friend didn’t help, either. “I mean, it’s kind of romantic,” she said, scrolling through Instagram while lounging on your couch. “Maybe he just likes a challenge.”

You rolled your eyes. “Or maybe he just wants to prove he can win over a Bruins fan for the fun of it.”

“Why does it matter?” she said. “He’s into you. Who cares why? Take the trip.”

But you couldn’t shake the nagging doubt in the back of your mind. What if you went, and it turned out you were just some fleeting distraction? What if this was all a game to him? A bet between teammates?

You almost cancelled the flight.

Almost.

The day of the trip arrived, and you stood at Logan Airport, suitcase in hand, still second-guessing yourself. But as you boarded the plane and settled into your seat, you decided to stop overthinking. Maybe this was a bad idea—but maybe it wasn’t.

And a few hours later, you landed in Toronto, where William himself was waiting at the arrivals gate, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“You actually came,” he said, his grin as wide as the Toronto skyline.

“Don’t make me regret it,” you replied, though you couldn’t help but smile back.

The night of the game, you were a bundle of nerves as you slipped on your Coyle jersey. True to your word, you weren’t about to switch allegiances, even for William.

When you arrived at Scotiabank Arena, the Leafs fans around you gave you a mix of side-eyes and incredulous stares, but William had made sure you were seated in a private box to avoid any real drama.

And from the moment the puck dropped, your attention flicked between the ice and William. He was in his element, skating with that effortless confidence, his hair slicked back under his helmet.

Every time he touched the puck, your heart raced, though you’d never admit it. And when he scored late in the second period, his celebration was as dramatic as ever—this time, pointing directly at you in the box.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. He was so infuriating.

After the game, he found you waiting near the locker room, his grin as cocky as ever.

“Enjoy the show?” he asked, still catching his breath.

“You’re insufferable,” you said, crossing your arms.

“And yet, you’re still here,” he teased, his voice softer now.

You wanted to argue, to push back, but something about the way he looked at you made your walls crumble. Maybe he wasn’t just playing a game. Maybe this was real.

“Fine,” you said, your voice quieter. “Maybe I did enjoy it. Just a little.”

William’s smile widened, and he stepped closer, his hand brushing against yours. “Good. Because I’m not giving up on you that easily.”

_

Over the next few weeks, your relationship with William started to feel… real. The texts, the calls, the late-night FaceTimes where he’d tease you about the Bruins while you fired back equally sharp chirps about the Leafs’ playoff history. It was comfortable in a way you hadn’t expected—like you’d known each other forever instead of just a few months.

He’d flown back to Boston twice since your trip to Toronto, once surprising you with tickets to a game that you’d begrudgingly attended (in your Bruins jersey, of course). And despite the growing attention from both your friends and random Leafs fans online—thanks to William’s not-so-subtle Instagram stories—it felt easy.

And that ease was what brought him to your apartment one chilly Thursday night, fresh off a practice in Toronto and desperate to escape the chaos of hockey for a few days. He showed up at your door with a crooked smile and a bag of takeout, unapologetically dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie, as if he wasn’t one of the most recognizable players in the NHL.

“I told you not to come here empty-handed,” you said as he stepped inside.

“I brought food,” he said, holding up the bag. “And me. That counts, right?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, leading him to the couch. The night unfolded in your usual way—dinner, teasing banter, and a ridiculous movie you half-watched while he tried to convince you to root for the Leafs just once.

“Never,” you said, nudging him with your elbow as the credits rolled.

“Not even if I score a hat trick in the playoffs?”

“Please. Like Toronto’s making it past the first round.”

He groaned dramatically, letting his head fall back against the couch. “You’re ruthless, you know that?”

“And you love it,” you shot back, earning a smirk that made your stomach flip.

As the room fell quiet, you realized how close he was. His arm was draped over the back of the couch, his body turned slightly toward you, his blue eyes soft as they studied your face.

“What?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“Nothing,” he said, but the way his gaze lingered told you otherwise.

You felt your cheeks heat under his scrutiny, and before you could overthink it, he leaned in, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. His lips brushed against yours, soft and slow, like he was giving you every chance to pull away.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you leaned into him, your hands finding their way to his shoulders as the kiss deepened. The world outside faded, the only sound the faint hum of the TV and the quiet hitch of your breath as his fingers traced along your jawline.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, a small, almost shy smile playing at his lips.

“You’re dangerous,” he murmured.

“You’re one to talk,” you whispered back, your heart pounding against your ribs.

For a moment, neither of you said anything, the quiet intimacy stretching between you like a fragile thread. It was a different kind of silence—one that felt warm, electric, and charged with a million unspoken words.

“You know,” he said eventually, his voice low, “I don’t just come here for the food.”

You laughed softly, your fingers brushing against his jaw. “I figured as much.”

“Good,” he said, kissing you again, slower this time, like he wanted to savour every second. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

And in that moment, you believed him.

-

Until you didn’t.

The first crack came during a Friday night dinner at a cosy Italian spot in the North End.

It was supposed to be a quiet evening, but halfway through your meal, the whispers started.

“That’s William Nylander…”

“…isn’t she a Bruins fan? What’s she doing with him?”

“…he’s always with someone new…”

You tried to brush it off, focusing on your pasta while William remained unfazed, casually twirling his fork like he didn’t hear a thing. But the longer it went on, the harder it was to ignore.

By the time dessert arrived, the insecurities you’d managed to suppress since Toronto had resurfaced with a vengeance.

“Do you ever… get tired of this?” you blurted, pushing your tiramisu around with your spoon.

William looked up, his brows furrowing. “Tired of what?”

“This,” you said, gesturing vaguely. “The attention. The whispers. Everyone thinking I’m just another one of your… whatever.”

His expression softened, but you didn’t stop.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had fun—really. But maybe this was just a thing, you know? A fun distraction for you while you’re on the road. I mean, you’re William Nylander. You could date anyone. Why me?”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and the silence was deafening. You stared at your plate, feeling the familiar sting of regret creeping in. Maybe you’d gone too far. Maybe he’d been looking for an out, and you’d just handed it to him.

But then, he reached across the table, his fingers brushing against yours.

“Why not you?” he said quietly, his voice steady. “You’re smart, funny, and the only person who makes me actually want to argue about hockey. You’re not afraid to chirp me when I deserve it—and even when I don’t. And yeah, the attention sucks sometimes, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is you.”

You blinked, your throat tightening as his words sank in.

“And for the record,” he added, a small smirk creeping onto his face, “you’re not a ‘fun distraction.’ If you were, I wouldn’t have flown to Boston twice in a month just to see you.”

Your lips twitched, a reluctant smile breaking through. “You’re really laying it on thick, huh?”

“Is it working?” he asked, his smirk turning into a full grin.

“Maybe,” you admitted, rolling your eyes but squeezing his hand back.

But the drama didn’t end there.

A few days later, an article popped up online: William Nylander Seen Cosying Up to Mysterious Bruins Fan in Boston.

The headline was bad enough, but the comments? Worse.

“She’s just another puck bunny.”

“Why would he date a Bruins fan? Total PR move.”

“She’s not even that pretty…”

You tried not to let it bother you, but when William called that night, you were unusually quiet.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

“Nothing,” you lied, staring at your laptop screen where the article was still open.

“Come on,” he pressed. “Talk to me.”

You sighed, finally breaking. “I don’t know if I can do this, Will. The articles, the comments… people think I’m just using you, or that I’m some… whatever they want to call me.”

“They don’t know you,” he said firmly. “And they don’t know us.”

“But they think they do,” you argued. “And it’s exhausting.”

He was quiet for a moment, and you braced yourself for the worst.

But then he spoke again, “What if I made it official?”

You froze. “What?”

“What if I posted about us?” he said, his tone calm but confident. “Let people see that you’re not just some random girl. That we’re serious.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but doubt still lingered. “Won’t that just make it worse?”

“Maybe,” he admitted. “But I don’t care. I want to be with you. And if that means dealing with some noise, so be it.”

You were silent, his words hanging heavy in the air.

“Look,” he continued, his voice softening. “You can take all the time you need to think about it. But just know that I’m not going anywhere.”

A week later, you were scrolling through Instagram when you saw it.

A picture of the two of you at dinner, taken from a slightly awkward angle but undeniably sweet. The caption?

“Even a Bruins fan can’t resist a little blue and white 💙🤍.”

The comments were a mix of support, chirps, and Leafs-Bruins banter, but for the first time, you didn’t care.

Because when you texted him to call him out for posting it without warning, his only response was:

“Told you I’m not going anywhere.”

[hellojusthereforabit-blog]

Past Lives Pt. 1.5 - Bucky Barnes.

Ft. Sam Wilson, Peter Parker, and Natasha Romanoff.

"I can't do this, doll, I'm sorry."

"You with me, Y/N?" Sam bended to be eye-level with me.

"What?" I asked, brows furrowing in what I'm sure is a developing wrinkle.

Sam sighed, shaking his head and moving back to the drawing board, where an intricate capture-seize-and-return-to-current-time-line plan was etched.

There's no excuse. I was slipping. I was being unreliable. I could not be trusted with this mission.

"Can I trust you with this mission, Y/N?" Sam's voice was grave, devoid of its usual playful warmth.

No. "Yes." I replied, hoping my face did not betray just how out of my depth I truly was.

What was I thinking agreeing to a mission like this? Maybe Bucky was right. Maybe I did this just to twist the knife. I knew something was truly wrong with me when the idea of Bucky being sick with anxiety over me seemed attractive.

He hurt you, I reminded myself. As if this made it any more justifiable.

"I have the kid." Bucky's booming voice echoed through the compound walls as he approached the conference room.

Speak of the devil.

"Hey!" quipped Peter Parker, alias: Spiderman, from behind Bucky. "You do not have me, Mr. Winter Solider Sir, I came here willingly."

"Pipsqueak" muttered Sam from beside me.

I barely concealed my own laugh in time for Bucky to hit Peter with the infamous "don't call me that." line.

Peter's eyes zeroed in on me and his smile got impossibly wider.

"Y/N!" He seemed to jump in place, "Oh my God! It's so good to see you!"

I welcomed Peter's embrace, relishing in the confusion of the two men behind me.

"Back at you, kiddo."

"You two know each other?" asked Bucky with what seemed to be true disgust.

"Sure we do," I said, patting Peter on the back, "As far as anyone's concerned, this is my avenger-little-brother." I winked at Peter as we pulled away.

Something sobered in the room at the mention of my family. We were all un-kindly reminded of what was at steak here.

"Alright then, Spider," said Sam, back in Captain America mode. "Tell us how it happened."

--

"Reports of more than a dozen killed, and fifty more injured in the area. No group has yet claimed responsibility, but we urge anyone with any knowledge of this to get in contact with the local auth-"

"They weren't all civilians, y'know ." A silky-smooth voice spoke from behind me, interrupting the news anchor.

Shoot first, ask questions later.

Red hair and amused green eyes stared back at me from behind the barrel of my gun.

"Jesus, Nat!" I holstered the gun back to my side. "Don't you ever knock?"

"Why, so you can ignore me again?" she replied knowingly.

Natasha Romanoff, The Black Widow, was raiding my shelves for- whatever it was she was looking for. Having found a half-eaten bucket of ice-cream, she plopped down on my couch and shut the TV off.

"You should really stop watching the news, too depressing." she reasoned, licking the spoon clean off ice-cream.

Resigned to the situation, I dropped to the floor.

The silence in the apartment was short-lived.

I poked Nat's leg and looked up at her.

"I'm sorry about - all the ignoring stuff." It was a lame apology, but Nat deserved one, at least.

She stayed silent, clearly waiting for me to go on.

"It's just-" I started, unable to find the words. She hummed in response.

God, I was so grateful to have a friend like Nat, though you would have never caught me saying that.

I hope she knew.

"Ever since everyone was blipped," I tried again, only half-aware of Nat's leg freezing in place beside me. "I keep seeing them. Him." I breathed out.

"Bucky?" she asked, her demeanor quieter, more real.

I nodded and tried to keep going.

"He never even knew - I never even told him." I shuddered at the thought of what I was about to say next. "He died thinking no one loved him, Nat."

I felt a steady hand grip my shoulder.

"He knew he had a friend in you, Y/N," she said, ever the voice of reason.

But I was beyond reason then, gasping for breath.

"No," my voice cracked. Weak, like the rest of me. "Not like this."

I paused, collected my thoughts.

Out with it.

"Everytime something happens, the first person I want to tell is Bucky. His voicemail is probably barely functional from how many messages I left. But he's gone. They're all gone. I don't see a point in waking up every morning, I don't run, I don't train, I don't eat, Nat-"

I felt a thud beside me on the floor and a pair of strong arms hold me tight. Capable fingers pressed against my back until I was a sobbing mess in the lap of the deadliest assassin in the world.

I only grasped the faintest string of some Russian lullaby through the sounds of my own misery.

--

"Agent!" Sam's commanding voice echoes through the room, ricocheting off the walls and piercing my eardrums. "Copy on the plan or do we need to go through this a third time?" He asks, no mirth in that lovely face of his.

"I copy."

-

Hey guys, I promise the part with 40s Bucky is coming soon. It just feels right to add a little bit of depth to the story. Please let me know your thoughts! Your support from the previous part was incredible. Thank you and see you soon!

[americas1suiteheart]

Not In On The Joke || Sequel

Brian "Q" Quinn x Fem! Reader

(NOT MAKING A PART 3!!)

Summary; Q and Y/n go on a date. Sequal to Not In On The Joke.

Notes; I wrote a sequel/part II!! I figured why not, as well as the asks I've been getting.. 3rd person POV btw

Warnings; Some foul language, though not very much.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

A date.

It had been ages since Y/n has been on a date, a few years to be exact, and she was scared out of her wits.

A week ago, some random guy came up to her one day out of nowhere, flirted with her and asked for her number, as well as making her late for a meeting.

She didn't mean to be disrespectful, but man was he hot.

It was just going to be a simple café date, nothing fancy, so she got ready and put on a t-shirt and the first pair of pants she saw in her drawer, of course with a jacket and her favourite blue scarf due to the cold weather. Looks good enough, presentable.

On the other hand, Q was going way over the top, for one of the first times, he was anxious.

"What about this one?"

"Q, it's a café," Sal says, crossing his arms.

"And it's a date! What if she dressed up?" Q looks at Sal and throws his arms up.

"You know what, do what you want, I'm out," Sal says as he walks away.

Q now looks at Sal in astonishment.

"This is fine. This will be fine." He tells himself as he looks in his closet and picks his Superman t-shirt and a black sweater.

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

Maybe Y/n shouldn't have been too early. She showed up 20 minutes early out of nervousness that she'd be late.

She'd already been through two cups of tea and a scone. A really big scone.

Her phone dings with a buzz. It was a text from Q.

Brian (Q): I should be there in 5 minutes ;) - 1:34 pm

Y/n lets out a deep breath, 'Finally,' she thought to herself.

Wait.

The winky face?

The fact that she started to burn up at something so small and simple made her even more embarrassed than before.

She sipped on her water and waited some more. She looked around, the ambiance of this café was mesmerising, dimly lit, some plants here and there on shelfs, and soft jazz playing. Now she knows why Brian picked this place. It was so cozy and nice in here.

"Y/n?"

She turns around to see Q standing next to the two seater round table.

She quickly gets up from her seat and puts her hand out to shake his. She had no clue what she was supposed to do.

"Brian, hello, I'm glad you were able to make it!" She says as he awkwardly looks at her hand.

The uncomfortable pause made her realize that there was no need to be professional, "Oh my goodness, I'm– I'm so sorry, Brian, I apologise for the odd professionalism," she says as she pulls him into a hug, to which he returns.

"It's alright don't worry and don't apologise sweetheart," Q says, pulling away from the hug and sitting down in the chair opposite of Y/n's.

"So.."

"Uh, how have you been? How was that meeting?" Q asked with a small smile.

Y/n smiles, "It's been alright so far, the meeting went well, I was only just a tad bit late but I wasn't chewed out for it," she laughs, "how about you, Brian?"

'Good chance to say something,' Q thinks to himself. "It's been good but it's a lot better now that I'm sitting here with you," He says with a wink.

Y/n turns bright red at the flirtation and begins to laugh a few moments later, a genuine one. A genuine laugh that made Q smile even bigger than he had before.

"Likewise, Brian. Oh, I ordered just some waters, I didn't know what you wanted so.." She said awkwardly.

"Thank you, I hope I didn't make you wait too long." He was trying his best not to be stupid, say anything stupid. But working with his friends for years will do something to anyone.

She lies, "Oh no not at all, I got here about 5 or 10 minutes before," She didn't want to make him feel bad on the first date, but she did think for a moment that he stood her up.

Q and Y/n talked for a while after ordering their meals, simply things that one would speak about on a first date, things that they like such as food or music, but even that wasn't enough for Y/n to get to know Q.

"What do you do? Like, job wise," Y/n asks, taking a sip of her water.

Q panicked for a second. 'How the hell am I supposed to tell her I work on a national television show? That proves me to be totally stupid at times!' He thought to himself.

"Uh, well–"

"Heres that hamburger, and the special," the waitress interrupts, "would you two like anything else to drink?"

"Thank you, I'll just take a black coffee," Y/n says.

"And for you sir?"

"A Coke, would be nice,"

The waitress jots down the two drinks onto her notepad, "I'll be right back with that," she says as she leaves.

"Black coffee? Not even with a little bit of sugar in it?" Q questions, an amused look on his face.

"Pfft, no way! I only put sugar in my tea, and it has to be a specific one." She laughs.

"Specific one? Like what?"

"Well, most black teas pair great with sugar and cream. Take London fog for example. It's Earl Grey black tea with steamed milk, sugar or sweetener, and lavender extract. Herbal and white teas pair better with honey, same with green teas. And then there are some that just taste good by themselves," She explains. Q admired how intelligently she spoke about this.

"Well, you've proved me wrong. Guess you'll have to show me all the different ones some other time, sweetheart," Q flirts, sending her a wink.

Y/n began to burn up once more at not only the pet name and firting, but also his asking for another date, "Are you suggesting another date, Brian?" She smirks.

"Possibly," He sets his arms on the table and leans closer towards her.

"Here's that coffee, and here's that Coke for you guys. Can I get anything out of the way?" The waitress had unfortunately been interrupting most of the date, and for some reason, Q believed it was on purpose.

"No thank you," Y/n smiles, "So, that reminds me, you never answered my question asking you about what you do for a living. Care to share?" She asks after the waitress leaves the table.

Q hesitated, should he really tell her or lie? 'What's the use in lying?' He thought to himself.

"Well, it's a little complicated," He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh? How so?"

"I kinda work in the television buissiness,"

"Like what? Tech? Acting?" Y/n questioned, her brow crooking.

Shit.

"Unscripted reality TV show." Slip of the tounge..

"Wow, really! That's so cool! What sort of show?" She exclaimed a little too loudly for the liking of everyone else inside of the café, earning a few looks and glares from others.

"Well it's this thing me and my friends all do, it's kind of like challenges and stuff," Q was sheepish, he was afraid that Y/n might like him only for his fame.

"Oh, so you're like, a star of the show? What's it called?"

"Impractical Jokers,"

"I think I've heard of it before, though I don't think I've ever watched it. Unless there was an episode without you because then I would definitely remember a face like yours," Now it was Y/n's turn to flirt.

"U-uh well, no, I've never missed a shooting before," Q was glad she'd never seen it, especially with all of the stupid and embarrassing shit he's done. And that episode with her in it. She'd hate him.

"I'll have to see it, then," Y/n says before finishing her food.

Oh jeez..

"Anything I can get out of your way?"

How many times has she come already?

"This plate and– Brian, do you need to get rid of anything?" Y/n asks politely.

"Yeah, the two plates, please." Q stacked the plates on top of each other as Y/n put the used napkins and utensils on them.

"Oh, can I get the check as well?"

"Of course, I'll be right back with that for you two." The waitress collects the plates and leaves. Leaving for what felt like the millionth time.

Y/n sighed and adjusted herself in the seat, looking around the café and finally settling her eyes back on to Q, "You have pretty eyes, did you know that?" She complimented.

Q wasn't one to get flustered. He was a guy, what kind of guy flusters as easily as him?

He finally snapped out of it, immediately thinking of something better to say, "Not as pretty as yourself, I assure you."

Y/n flushes and looks away in a pathetic attempt at hiding the bright red that tinted her cheeks.

"Here's the check, will you be splitting it?" The waitress asks, putting the black booklet with a pen and receipt on the table.

"No, that's alright. Just my card,"

"And here I thought the man was supposed to pay for the date? Hmm.." The waitress hummed, a look of disappointment on her face as she took the card from Y/n and walked off.

Q looks at her astounded, she practically judged him before he even got the chance to offer his own card. There was definitely something off.

"I could've gotten that for ya' you know?" Q frowns.

Y/n laughs, "It's alright, Brian. I don't mind at all. It was your treat taking me here, I could at least pay the bill,"

"Let me pay the tip?"

"Be my guest."

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

"Thank you for this, Brian. I had a lot of fun, I haven't had that in a while," Y/n smiles at Q who was walking her to her car.

"No problem, sweetheart. I had a great time with you, too. You still up for that other date?" Q asks.

For the millionth time, her smile grew bigger, deeming it to be possible one could smile that largely, "I'm more than up for that other date,"

"Great. I'll be talking to you soon, then," Q stops where Y/n's car was parked.

"Of course, talk to you soon, darling." Y/n says, placing a small peck on his cheek before entering her car.

Q stood still, "Darling.." He whispered to himself, a smile quickly making a way to his face.

"Look who's lovestruck,"

Q turns around to see a camera crew and his three friends approaching him, "What the hell?"

"How was the date? Darling," Joe asked, nudging Q's arm.

"Wait, wait! Was she in on this? Did you guys spy on us?" Q exclaims, confused and upset.

Murr snickers and walks away with the crew and other two Jokers.

"Was she in on this! Hey!" Q shouted, unable to go after them.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

I did this really fast, I think I wrote it in like, a week? And finished it at 3 am so😬 I dunno if it's sloppy, but here's your sequel.

[the-universal-sun]

Hiii! I'm the Anon who asked about Ford's reaction to Poindexter's name. (I only saw you answered my question now, bc I was busy with school (last year of highschool is exhausting))

And I would absolutely looove a small drabble about Grunkle Ford's reaction to Poindexter's name...

... Have a nice Day! (Or whatever else depending on your time zone...)

Here's a drabble of Ford's reaction to Poindexter's name (and some Poindexter lore perhaps...lol) It's not so much focused on our Little Lee as it is Stanford, so I apologize if you were wanting more of that. If that's the case, let me know and I can write a new piece for you! But! Thank you so much for the request, my lovely anon! I hope your last year of high school finishes well and happily for you, and I hope that you're enjoying your break! Sorry it took so long to get to this, uni is giving me the run around, too. So if you're still here, thank you so much for your patience! I loved writing this so much, and I hope you enjoy reading it!

As always, I am open for helpful advice and criticisms!

Please enjoy :-)

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Stanford watched as Stanley played with his new dinosaur toys, making small growling and roaring noises every now and then as he clashes the toys together in a make believe fight. His old and forlorn looking teddy sat closely in his lap. Looking at the toy did make Ford feel the slightest bit guilty-Stanley bad kept it so close to him after he tried to take it and put it away, foolishly believing his gift of a stuffed Opossum would be better to play with. But the older toy looked decades old and he didn’t know if it was ever washed or if time had stained the poor thing, Ford wanted to put the plush up to keep it safe from falling apart. He knows better now, how precious the old toy bear was to Stanley, having been his only companion for close to 40 years, one of the few comfort items he allowed himself to have and keep when the world felt too Big for him. Ford sighs to himself, shaking the forlorn thoughts off and walking over to his brother, kneeling down to get on his level he runs a gentle hand through Stanley's hair, a gentle hum coming as a response.

"Lee, may I look at your friend here?" Stanley eyes him cautiously, tugging the stuffed bear close to his chest and turning, hiding it from him. I deserve this, he thinks, for trying to take away his toy. He inhales deeply and shakes his head again, he doesn't have time for these thoughts, he waits a moment and gathers himself, smiling gently at Stanley, "It's alright, I won't take him, Lee. I just want to look at him, I haven't had the chance to really be introduced to him, I don't even know his name!" Ford goes for a gentle laugh, this is what his research has told him to do. Be easy and soft-but firm when needed-when caring for someone in Stanley's headspace. He's never had to do "gentle" before, so this is a work in progress, but it seems he may have hit the mark; his brother looks less suspicious of him and more shy. He's blushing, even, the image so cute Ford wishes he had his journal so he could get a rough sketch of it. He'll have to draw it from memory later.

"Please, Lee? I promise you can keep holding him, I just want to get to know your friend here." He hopes Stanley has forgiven him enough from that incident. Ford smiles as his brother holds out the toy, still keeping a firm grip on it's sides. The stuffed bear has wire framed glassed and is wearing a yellow-plaid sweater vest-or it could have just yellowed with time, even with the care his brother has shown for it-and on the vest looks to be a pocket with some felt pens sewn into it. He recognizes that stitch work, Stanley must have hand sewn these himself! Oh the talent his brother has, remarkable! Ford just hopes he didn't sew these when regressed...

"His name isss-name is...Poindexter..." Stanley's voice came slowly and softly, he was obviously concentration on speaking correctly for Ford-not that he cared for proper pronunciation. Well, he does, but not from his brother when he's regressed, when he's his Little Lee. Ford has also grown used to his brother not pronouncing words correctly, mostly as a way to annoy him...Ford's racing thoughts stop. Poindexter? Stanley named the bear after...him? It's obvious now that that he's looking at the bear, the glasses, the rather geekish attire Ford was known the wear in his youth-college gave him some fashion sense at least-with the little pens lovingly hand sewn into the bear's vest? When Stanley said that some older lady at the shelter he was at when he was around 18-19-even thinking about that made a jolt of anger spark in him, Stanley was just a baby-made a stuffed bear just for him, Ford admittedly did not think it was for him and she just said that to cheer a-a child up. But, seeing as how only the felt pens are new, Ford believes him. Believes that some lady asked Stanley who the person he wanted most at the time was and then made a plush toy version of said person, a toy which Stanley has kept, loved, and cherished for 40 years. A toy which has helped him through his darkest hours and comforted him when he felt Little. A toy modeled after...him...

"No no, don't cw-cry. M'sorry, for naming him-" Ford didn't even realize he had begun to cry until his brother frantically tried to console him, hands clumsily wiping tears away. He gently grabs his brother's wrists and pulls them away before lunging and pulling his Little brother-his Lee-into the tightest hug he could, burying his face in his brother's head to hide any more tears that may spill. His brother should never be sorry, not for this.

"No, it's okay, Lee. Don't apologize. I'm so so very happy that you named him Poindexter. I think it's a rather fitting name for him, a smart name. Good job, Lee, and thank you...I'm-" Ford has to clear his throat, his emotions getting to him. Moses, he loved his brother so much, "I'm glad he was there to help and comfort you when I...when I wasn't able to." He wasn't able to be there for Lee for such a long time, but now that he's back and they've made up, he's going to make sure that they spend the rest of their lives together, sailing across the seas like their dream has always been.

Ford pulls back from the hug, wiping some stray tears from his eyes. Lee looks utterly confused, the adorable tilt to his eyebrows tearing a laugh out of Ford, who quickly reassures Stanley that he's not laughing at him, accentuating his point with a hair ruffle. His brother just sits there in confusion, a stray finger gravitating towards his mouth to be chewed on. Ford bends down over his knees to face Poindexter, still held to Stan's chest in a firm grip, and reaches a hand out, two fingers gingerly shaking a cloth paw up and down.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Poindexter. Thank you for taking care of my brother..."

[multifandoms27-blog]

Hey! I saw your poll on Dungeon Meshi fanfics and wanted to ask if you could write a little fluffy something about fem reader x Laios? Idk, maybe they’re forced to share a sleeping bag in the dungeon and end up cuddling or kissing or something like that? I’m really desperate for some Laios fluff because all the ffs I found so far are really smutty haha. Anyway, hope you’re doing well and thanks for taking the time to read this <3

OHHH MY GOD MY FIRST DUNGEON MESHI REQUEST LETS GOOOO

Content: Laios Touden x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Notes: I haven't written something in months so sorry if this is weird!!! This is also my first time writing Laios so please excuse me if he's OOC

• ───────────────── •

Today had been awful for you. Laios had gotten your party into a bunch of trouble today with monsters. First, a giant man-eating plant cocooned you and Marcille, leaving the boys to have to save you two. Then, a slime dropped on your head, ruining your clothes and sleeping bag. Then finally, as you were washing your traveling clothes and sleeping bag, fucking Laios ran past you while chasing after a walking mushroom, splashing mud onto your new clean clothes.

You had yelled out in frustration when Laios had ran past you, causing him to stop and turn around and lose the mushroom.

"(Y/n)? What's wrong?" He asked.

"You wanna know what's wrong, Laios?! This whole day! It all sucks! There's no way I'll be able to wash and dry my sleeping bag and my traveling clothes by morning now!" You yelled, pointing between the tall man and your dirty laundry.

Laios blinked a few times, the gears turning in his head. "I have a solution."

"What, Laios? What could you possibly have? It's not like you have a machine that can wash and dry these in, oh I don't know, two hours?" You were incredibly frustrated.

"Well, no, but...I can give up my sleeping bag and some of my clothes for you." Laios spoke sheepishly.

All at once, your anger dissipated. "Wait, Laios, no. I'm just frustrated at today. You don't need to give me anything at all."

"Well, it's been my fault all this stuff happened to you anyway," Laios rubbed the back of his neck. "Let me just do this for you."

Blinking a few times yourself, you weighed your options. Laios was the party leader. He needed his rest and proper clothing in order to function in this dungeon. But, did you really want to sleep on the dirty floor and dirty yourself and another pair of clothes? Sighing, you nodded.

"Fine. But that doesn't mean I feel good about you sleeping on the ground."

"Who said I was sleeping on the ground?" Laios scratched his cheek softly.

You paused and stared up at him. He gave you a soft smile and a hopeful look. Probably hoping you'd still say yes, now knowing what you know.

"What...wait...aren't...isn't your sleeping bag for one?" You stuttered.

"Well yeah, but I figure if we sleep on our sides, we'll act like one whole person and it'll be fine!" Laios grinned.

Your heart began to thump wildly in your chest. Sharing a sleeping bag...with Laios...in front of the group...you'd never hear the end of it! Maybe Senshi would leave you alone, but Marcille and Chilchuck would definitely tease you and ask about your feelings for Laios.

Feelings...you had some for Laios, but you never got the chance to give it a label. You didn't know if it was a one-off feeling, or a big fat crush on the blond tall man in front of you.

"Hello? Earth to (Y/n)?" Laios waves his hand in front of your face.

Blinking a few times, you sigh. "Alright, we can share a sleeping bag."

• ───────────────── •

The rest of the day came and went, with your clothes being hung up to dry through the night. Everybody got in their sleeping bags aside from Senshi, who had first watch tonight. Laios got in his bag and laid on his side, keeping the other side open and looking up at you with such hopeful eyes.

"Wait, (Y/n), if your sleeping bag is drying, where are you going to sleep?" Marcille asked, snug in her sleeping bag.

"She's sleeping with me." Laios stated matter-of-factly.

Silence fell over the camp, until Marcille and Chilchuck screamed "WHAT?!"

Senshi however, pat Laios' head. "Good job finally gaining some courage, Laios."

"Wha- Senshi!" Laios blushed, waving the dwarf off. "Come on, (Y/n), it's warm in here."

Taking a deep breath in and out, you walked towards him and got into the bag next to him, making sure to face him. "There...are you happy?"

"The happiest."

Laios then leaned forward and gave you a peck on the forehead. Your face went beet red, steam blowing out of your ears. Marcille and Chilchuck both screamed again, then began calling Laios things like pervert, and demanding Marcille share a sleeping bag with you instead.

• ───────────────── •

After everyone calmed down, and gone to bed (except Senshi), you thought Laios was asleep. Your own eyes were closed, but you could barely sleep with how hard your heart was pumping in your chest. The sleeping bag was snug, it forced Laios to wrap his arms around your body.

You kept thinking about his forehead kiss earlier. Did he like you? Did you like him? Or was he doing that to try to help you feel better? He wasn't the greatest at social cues...

"(Y/n)?" Laios whispered. "You still awake?"

"...Yeah." You opened your eyes to see him already staring at you.

"What're you thinking about?"

"Honestly? The way you kissed me earlier." You explained.

Laios smiled and leaned in a little closer. "Want me to do it again?"

"Where is this confidence coming from?" You asked.

"Well...I just...saw an opportunity and took it. See, it's kind of like cooking monsters. You have to find the right temperature to cook it, find the right about of time to cook it as well, find the-" Laios was interrupted...

...by you leaning in and kissing him softly on the mouth. You were sure of your feelings for Laios now. You had a big crush on the blond tall man.

Laios was surprised, but moved one of his hands to the back of your head, pulling you in impossibly closer. Slowly, you both pulled away, looking each other in the eyes deeply.

"(Y/n)..." Laios whispered.

"Laios..." You whispered.

"Laios." Chilchuck warned. "I can hear everything."

"Laios," Senshi walked up to the bag. "Your turn on watch."

The blond man sighs and carefully maneuvers out of the sleeping bag, but as he gets out, his foot gets caught on the hoop that closes the sleeping bag and entirely rips it down the side. You and him look at each other before you sheepishly speak up.

"Guess we'll be using mine for a while." You sighed.

Laios gave you a smile and longingly held his hand out. "I'll be back for you. Sleep well."

"I can attempt." You chuckle, finally settling in for the night.

• ───────────────── •

Here's my Dungeon Meshi Masterlist in case you wanna request something!

[beef-brisket]

Adam stayed quiet and looked behind him, then walked out of Husks' shop and looked both ways down Pride's main street.

Closing the shops door, he slowly turns around.

Adam: Uh... I could have sworn she was right behind me!

Lucifer: You LOST her?!

Adam: I didn't lose her! She... just... didn't keep up-.

Husk: Wait, who's Charlie?

Lucifer rolled his eyes and stuck his head out the door, looking around.

Lucifer: She's like Adam. She's basically a kid and this is her first time in Pride. And Adam has just left her somewhere!

Adam: I didn't leave her-!

Husk: Whoa, hold up. Adam, you left a kid? A girl? On the streets of pride? In HELL?

Adam spun around to face Husk: I didn't leave her! Look- I'll find her, alright?!

Husk: Oh yeah, because that's what you're known for. Finding people.

Adam glared: Listen smart ass, I'll find her.

Lucifer: You better, Adam. It won't take long for someone in Hell to realize she's like you, they'll take her quicker than you can blink.

Husk: Hate to agree with ya, Lu. But sorry Adam, he's fucking right.

Adam groans: Fine, let's find her-.

Lucifer: Uh, you're finding her, buddy.

Adam: What?! Me?! Alone?!

Lucifer: You're the big god that lost her, so you're the big god that'll find her.

Lucifer folded his arms and glared at Adam: You're still here?

Sighing, Adam walked out the front door and looked around. Fuck Pride was a shit hole. He hated it here.

He walked down a few streets and looked down the alleys.

Adam: Fucking... where the fuck are you?

Man: Oh. My. Fucking. God. Adam?!

Adam groaned. That was a voice he didn't want to hear again. Slowly turning to face the direction the voice came from, he cringed when he saw the man getting a blow job from a sheep sinner down one of the alleys.

Adam: Fucks sakes, dad. Can you get you're dick out of her mouth if you're going to talk to me?

Teddy rolled his eyes: Still so touchy and not in the good way. But fine, give me 3.

Adam: 3 what-?

Teddy: 2.

Adam: Oh god-.

Teddy: 1~. Drink all that up, baby~.

Adam leaned against the wall outside of the alley with his head in his hands. He didn't look up as the sinner wiped her mouth and walked past him.

He jumped and glared as his father put his hand on his shoulder.

Teddy: My son! Finally, back in Hell! And here to stay, I hope! I have a new business, and I'd LOVE for you to be apart of it!

Adam groaned: I can guess what it is, and no thanks, I'm looking for a kid-.

Teddy backed away: Adam! You sick motherfucker!

Adam: N-Not like that, dad! Fuck sakes! And she's legal, by the way. Not that that matters- because that's not what this is about! I lost her, alright? And I need to find her before my husband kills me-.

Teddy: Whoa, whoa- husband?! Let me get this straight- or gay. You abandoned me for a thousand years-.

Adam: Heaven captured and imprisoned me!

Teddy: potato, tomato. Then, you run off to earth and fuck people's mouths for a living-.

Adam: I went to medical school! Sue me, I had a hobby!

Teddy: THEN you and some twink come and send ME back to Hell when I was on a very important, horny mission for our king, Asmodeus- need I remind you that you KIED my host?!

Adam: No, thanks. I remember. I swear, I'm still picking his brain out of my nails.

Teddy: You come down here, but not to apologize, no. To see some filthy SINNER! Amd then you AXED me in the fucking head! Which hurt, by the damn way!

Adam groaned: Dad, please-.

Teddy: And now, you're back! AND you got married?! Where was my invitation?! Who walked you down the isle?!

Adam: Dad, we went to a courthouse and then had fondue! It wasn't a wedding! We just sighed some papers, okay?!

Teddy: ...Still, where was my invitation?

Adam: Oh my god- you're going to get me killed.

Teddy growls as Adam starts walking off to continue his search. He quickly followed after his son.

Teddy: I heard you took on Heaven~.

Adam: Please, stop dad!

I miss our God!Adam Au

Sequel 👀

In Canada Eh! Lmao

CANADA FOREVER

Yes plsss! I miss our stupid, power-hungry boy 😫😫

[little-pup-pip]

hi can you make a strawberry shortcake themed mood board for me with no paci ? ty

Sure!!

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 774: Kiji, coming!!

Pag 1

1: Welcome, to the Emperor's throne!!

My aim is the double crown!!

Pag 2

4: Ahhh... you're fast, the two of you

I thought I could catch you for sure at 2km left

Pag 3

1: But it took me until “1km left”, yon!!

Pag 4

3: Ah!?

He

4: caught up!? Who....

Pag 5

1: who the hell are you!?

2: The two people in the lead are taking the curve and passing the sign that says that there's 1km left until the sprint line.....

Pag 6

1: No, it's three people!!

Three people passed the “1km left” sign!!

2: There's more people!? Since when!?

Wasn't it two people!?

What happened!? Who's that? That jersey-

At the last curve, suddenly-

3: It's not “who are you”....!!

Dammit!! I know!! This guy!!

Pag 7

1: There's one more person who we need to pay special attention to

2: Gunma Ryousei's third year, Kiji Kyuui

3: Ohh, Kiji? Who's that

Oi, I already told you about this in advance, Manami!! Come on, at the sea

Is that so?

4: What's your data about him?

5: There's basically no record of him in road racing

6: He's an..... “assassin” from the MTB world, huh

7: Is he aiming for the goal?

8: Yeah.... the goal...

That's right....

We should be glad

Pag 8

1: That he's only aiming for the goal

2: Hayaaaa!!

3: Dammit!! The first result.... so you're aiming for the sprint too!?

4: Since they said you were aiming for the goal I thought you were a climber like Manami!!

Pag 9

1: Let's speed up, Orange!! He'll catch up!!

2: I've seen it before!! This guy's jersey

3: That day.... he appeared suddenly on that bike with the thick tires

Pag 10

1: It's the guy who chased Onoda-san and the Hakogaku guy with the bouncy hair!!

2: Before that, Onoda-san said they were friends and that he's “strong”!!

3: He's coming to catch up to

4: mine and San-na's battle

Pag 11

1: He really is strong!!

Let's switch, I'll pull!!

Pag 12

1: Orange!!

3: They're in tune

You have amazing judgment and explosive power!!

4: When I caught up at the last curve

5: Even though they could have also accepted me and made me join them

Without making eye contact or calling out to each other, in an instant at the same time they made the decision

6: that they would “cooperate” to leave me behind!! Yon!!

You're really....

Pag 13

4: What's that

He's lowering his stance and pushing on the handles like he's about to dance....!!

5: Hayaaaa

Pag 14

1: You're really close friends!!

Pag 15

4: He lined up to us in one go!?

Pag 16

1: This guy!! Was it an optical illusion? Just now, I saw something like a cloud of dust behind me

2: Takadajou told us this

Be careful

3: I've been told that the power that a MTB rider can produce in a short time

4: is 1.5 times that of a road racing cyclist

5: This guy can match this top speed!?

8: Ah!?

9: Huh!?

Pag 17

2: In between!?

He came in between!?

Ah!?

3: You bastard, usually when one catches up he joins in the back

Pag 18

1: It's road racing theory!!

4: This guy doesn't know the theory?

5: 800m left until the sprint line!!

6: 1

Pag 19

1: 2

What's this- San-na, did this guy suddenly started counting

2: What's this

The sign for an attack?

3: 3

Pag 20

2: Alright, I recovered

5: Well then, I'll go

Pag 21

1: Ahead, yon

2: So it really was a sign for attacking!!

Who's that guy!!