#Fireworks Over the Sea

[faaun]

what draws you back to your country what draws you back to your land when i was a kid i told myself if i ever left iran i'd never go back 2 years into living in the UK i started looking at news on iran again 10 years in and i visited it for the first time again and today i heard an iranian mother talk in farsi to her child on the train to london the way my mother used to and i wanted to cry i wanted to ask her whether they're still cutting the mountaintops whether the lakes are still drying today i showed the person i was with pictures of waterfalls and palaces and forests and snow-white north something odd pulls me back with increasing force i can't ignore it ever again

[mugiwara--ya]

just woke up from a dream in which i, among many other things, went to an uta concert at the fucking beach

[beansprean]

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oh my god they're engaged to be engaged...

(also this is entirely separate from the izzyguana series fyi, but my god I have drawn their little island so many times by now)

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Wide shot of Stede and Ed's ramshackle house on a hill of long grass, a forested mountain sliding into the sea behind them as the sun peeks above the waves, painting them orange and yellow. Some work has been put into the house since they found it: the holes in the roof have been boarded over or covered with tarp, a rickety porch railing and staircase off the left side have been built on from scraps, oil lamps have been hung on each corner, and an addition on the right side is in progress, rocks stacked on the wood-slat roof and tarps hanging from unfinished walls. Planks of wood, tools, and fishing poles are leaned up against the porch, the path to the house has been cleared out and defined by stones and shells, and a wooden sign out front has the words "Best Little Inn By The Sea! +fishing equipment" carved into it. Stede and Ed, wearing a teal blouse with brown leather trousers and purple tee with black leather trousers respectively, are standing on the porch and looking out over the land, arms around each others waist. Stede raises his arm in a wave and shouts, "Great to see you two! Come again any time!" In the foreground, Pete and Lucius are walking down the path away from the house, looking tired. Pete has one arm around Lucius's shoulders and his eyes are closed, head listing to the side. Lucius covers his mouth as he yawns, lifting the other to throw a halfhearted wave over his shoulder. 1b. Waist-up in profile of Stede and Ed on the porch, sunrise behind them. Closest to the viewer, Stede stares out after their guests, hand lowering, smile fading to something a little bittersweet. Ed leans into Stede, free hand in his pants pocket, and rests his head in the crook of his neck as he follows Stede's gaze with a thoughtful smile. Ed asks, "You ever think about that for us?" 1c. Repeat. Stede's hand drops further, wrist dangling, as he turns his face toward Ed with a bewildered smile. "What?" Ed straightens from his cuddle, embarrassed, but keeps his right hand on Stede's waist. His left gestures randomly as he scrunches up his face, avoiding Stede's gaze. He explains, "Y'know...the matie-monie thing, whatever."

2a. Zoom out slightly; Stede takes a step back toward the house to face Ed as he pivots with his back toward the yard. They are still connected waist-to-hand. Stede plants his free hand on his hip with a smug little smirk and says, "Well I certainly hope that's not your proposal." Ed waves his free hand in a 'stop' motion, flustered as he meets his partner's eyes, and splutters "Wha- no! No, mate, I just... 'M having a dialogue." 2b. Repeat, zoom in. Ed dips his chin to look up at Stede through his lashes, red-faced and accepting defeat as he mumbles, "...How would you want it to go, though? Hypothetically." Stede giggles helplessly, free hand leaving his hip to rest fingertips on Ed's chest. 2c. Repeat, the background cutting out in favor of the sunrise occurring between them. They are almost forehead-to forehead, both of Stede's hands now pressed to Ed's chest and idly playing with the tips of his hair. Ed stares at his face with hooded eyes. Stede smiles, gaze lowered to focus on his hands, and says "Oh, I don't know. A bit of romance, you know. Dazzle." 2d. Repeat, zoom in to bust, background now mottled oranges and yellows. Ed raises his head to look past Stede with a frown, brow furrowed in confusion as he repeats blankly, "Dazzle." Stede hums idly to himself, concentrating on petting Ed's chest. 2e. Repeat. Stede lifts his head with a little smile, putting them nose-to-nose and adds, "I wouldn't say no to some fireworks." Ed flusters at the pointed reminder of their first time, cheeks turning red and a wobbly smile creeping across his face.

3a. Repeat. Stede asks, "What about you?" Ed leans back from their embrace, smile turning incredulous as he repeats, "Me?!" 3b. Waist up of Ed as he turns, sunrise at his back, to lean his left arm against the porch railing. He glances over the yard with a resigned little frown, fiddling with a piece of his hair with his right hand. He replies, "I dunno. Never really thought about it." 3c. Chest up of Stede as he mirrors Ed's pose with a fond if slightly amused smile, stairs and forest behind him. Offscreen, Ed continues, "Bet you had a whole scrapbook of ideas, eh?" 3d. Repeat. Stede straightens with a "Well!" and turns his body to face the house. 3e. Knees-up from the house POV as both men lean against the porch railing, the yard, ocean, and brightening sky beginning to streak itself with orange beyond. Stede is facing the viewer, back to the yard, leaning with his elbows braced on the railing. He aims his gaze to the side with a bit of a pained smile and says, "When Mary and I were engaged, a scrapbook wouldn't have been much use." Ed is turned toward Stede, left elbow propped on the railing. He scowls and sticks out his tongue at mention of Mary. 3f. Repeat. Stede turns his head toward Ed, who quickly tucks his petty tongue back in his mouth and schools his expression into one of interest. Stede continues, "Everything had been decided for us already. Never really got to the proposal part."

4a. Repeat. Ed turns his body more fully toward Stede, folding his arms on the railing and leaning his head over them with a warm smile. Stede raises his eyebrows in surprise and goes slightly pink as Ed says, "I'll have to make it really good, then." 4b. Stede turns his body toward Ed, left arm sliding against the railing behind him and right hand cupping Ed's chin as he leans closer, nose to nose. Ed's eyes hood, looking at Stede's mouth as is curls into a loving smile. Stede responds, "Can't wait." 4c. Repeat. Ed suddenly goes pale and blurts out, "You'll say yes, though, right?" Stede freezes in surprise, lips puckered in preparation of a kiss. 4d. Repeat. Stede throws his head back in a loud bark of laughter, straightening up and turning fully toward Ed to cup his cheek in his right hand and his shoulder with the other. Ed aims an embarrassed, besotted smile at him as Stede replies, "Ed, of course! Who could say no to you?"

5a. Repeat, both now in profile. The orange and yellow light of the sunrise is slowly spreading across the sky from the left. Ed straightens up from his lean to bring their foreheads together, still a bit red-cheeked and with a nervous edge to his smile as he lowers his gaze. He says, "You can say no if you want, though." Stede smiles at him with every ounce of tenderness he has, hands firm on his cheek and shoulder. He replies, "There's nothing I want more than to say yes to you, Ed. Permanent ink, remember?" 5b. Repeat. Stede moves his right hand from Ed's cheek to hook around his back, tugging him closer as he leans himself back. Ed stumbles forward with a helpless grin, cheeks even redder, bracing himself with his right hand on Stede's chest. When their eyes meet, Stede's smile turns teasing and faux-sinister, continuing, "You're stuck with me regardless. Foreverrr~" 5c. Repeat, larger and brighter, as Stede and Ed finally come together in an affirming kiss, the land behind them retreating to allow the sea and sky to fill the background. The sun finally breaches the horizon, sending glitter sparkling across the waves and gilding the pair in warm golden light. Ed's right hand is cupping the side of Stede's neck, thumb tracing through his sideburns, and Stede's right is hooked fully around his shoulders, cushioned in his soft hair. They are both smiling into the kiss, unhurried and in harmony.

6a. Repeat as they pull back from the kiss just far enough to meet each other's gaze, arms still around each other, Ed's right hand brushing Stede's cheek and Stede's buried in the back of Ed's hair. Ed smirks flirtatiously, eyes hooded, and says, "You know... I hear there's a traditional engagement sex sabbatical, too." Stede matches his expression, left hand sliding down Ed's shoulder to press against his lower back. Stede replies playfully, "Oh, is there? I suppose I can plan that part, then." 6b. Repeat. Ed brings his left hand up to mirror his right, cupping both of Stede's cheeks, and arches up on his toes to lean over Stede with a teasing grin. His movement forces Stede to arch his back in the first motions of a dip, hands briefly flying free of their grip on his future fiance to try to catch his balance. Their lips a centimeter apart, Ed hums, "Mmm, gimme a rehearsal, first." Stede tosses his head back with a giggle in response, eyes closed, cheeks pink. Hearts float above their heads. 6c. Shot at the bottom of the hill Stede and Ed are stationed on, the packed-dirt path to the house curving upward in the background, the stones and shells now more conservatively scattered. Amidst the tall grass and tropical plants lining the way are handmade wooden signs shaped like arrows pointing the way to the inn. Words carved into them say "this way!" and "best inn!" Pete and Lucius are in the foreground, walking down the hill towards the viewer, Pete's right arm still looped around his husband's shoulders. They still look very tired with dark circles beneath their eyes - Pete still hasn't opened his. Lucius has, barely, and is scowling his way forward with a furrowed brow, declaring, "We are leaving them the worst review." Pete nods solemnly. Text nearby points to them and says 'kept up all night by noises'. Pink hearts and exclamation points spill out behind them from the bend in the path, echoing the lovey-dovey noises from above that must have made their stay so insufferable. /end ID

[otkuhotgirl]

─── 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍

# with trafalgar law.

the heir to a throne had taken a liking to you — and law takes it upon himself to mark you his.

⎰ & KINKTOBER, day eleven. smut (mdni!). hate!sex. choking. possessive!law. biting. marking. mentions of blood. shower!sex. dom!law. afab!reader. no y/n used.

WC: 2.3k.

one could mention beyond one dozen fear-stricken adjectives when it came to the surgeon of death. sadistic, ruthless, cruel. the one to rearrange your limbs, to tear your beating heart off your chest and sell to whoever paid more. strangers trembled at the mention; lower-ranks marines were advised to not engage. law was but a monstrous criminal to most, a force to be reckoned with. to his crewmates, he lost partial sharpness, for he was but cap — strict, strategical, cunning, with a preference for solitude more often than not ignored by said boisterous subordinates. to you, he was law. a passionate, yet cold, individual — as though white flame. wielder of neutral facade that hid a habit of collecting coins; an excitement over illustrated, super-hero stories. zelous glances; fleeting brushes of fingers. love explicit through palid eyes, the mirror to his soul with your name all but engraved on it.

a commonly chosen adjective, agreed regardless of those who spoke, was that trafalgar law was thoroughly unlucky. which had been shown a fair amount of times through his journey at sea, one of them right in that instance.

it was supposed to be a common, brief, re-stocking period. when considering the increasing bounty on his head, law being the one assigned to stay-at-ship, caring for it rather than venturing through the streets, was understandable — advisable, even. whenever the captain was in need of particulars, he’d write it down and entrust you with the task of buying it all for a fair price. bepo acted as both a companion and an escort, and said routine had been settled for such a prolonged period that neither of you had expected law to leave later on that day. as capable as he was, captains had first-mates for a reason, and as a result of his stubborn nature, law suffered a combined attack from the kingdom’s security force, which culminated in his capture altogether.

the promise of the marines’ arrival had the crew on edge, desperately seeking for a route to the palace’s dungeon, yet finding none. the solution, however, fell from the skies — or rather you had thrown yourself in its arms. a naive prince, wielder of a bleeding heart and with quite a haste to fall in love. it had taken neither effort nor time to sway him off his feet, a golden crown wrapped around your criminal-esque finger. the man had taken you for a sweet commoner, enlightened at the idea of meeting one who was not royal, and after proper wording you had him at your feet within the midday.

you were showered in jewelry; poems; promises. he demanded a song to be written in your honor and defended you to whoever dared meddle. by the end of the afternoon, you had managed to successfully convince him to escort you to the dungeons — oh, my brave knight! —, for you were ever-so-curious to see the terrible surgeon of death, chained and set to execution. the prince had no time to react — too busy bragging — when you knocked both him and the guard off, stealing the keys and freeing your lover within the second.

law was revolted at your recklessness, yet curious as to how you had managed to get an audience in the dungeon. regardless, the flame of rage dimmed down into an endless, dark pit of hatred when the pair of you managed to escape and run towards the polar tang ashore. as it seemed, you were far too successful in your seducing, for now the guards followed-in-suit, shouting at each other and informing that the surgeon of death kidnapped the prince’s bride. to make matters worse, a celebratory festival was arranged and thrown, exploding fireworks announcing the incoming marriage.

law grew quieter; deadlier. he sliced whichever guard dared to come in between the route of your escape, and once the tang, at last, submerged, he was in such a mood that no crewmate had enough courage to approach him, rather focusing on the urgent task of fleeing. you weren’t given the privilege of shying away from his wrath, for a room, followed-in-suit by a shambles, had you locked in his chambers the second thereafter.

he scanned your figure, face contorting in both disgust and non-contained possessiveness. you were adorned in gold from head-to-toe, courtesy of the prince. the silken dress you wore, expensive and brand new. law prided himself in the jumpsuits the others’ wore — chest embroidered with the symbol of his crew, a lingering reminder to the external that their loyalty laid with him. yet, with you — his lover —, said jumpsuit had him growing twice as territorial; twice as prideful. he used to smirk at the thought of lustful men and women alike, cowering at the sight of the symbol you proudly displayed, retreating in fear for they knew you were his. his to protect; to adore; to touch. not the bride of a prince so incompetent he could neither sway a sword nor differentiate west from east. not a queen, but a pirate — his pirate.

at last, however, law had grown envious. the submarine’s temperature was erratic, oftentimes freezing, yet prone to insufferable warmth, depending on the sea’s conditions. those jumpsuits, although unfashionable, unflattering, had a purpose — to guarantee the comfort and safety of his crew. you feigned indifference, but he never once missed your lingering glance at the outfits worn by the straw-hat’s crew during the alliance. you, too, wished for that, and the context of being a heart pirate did not allow it. there you stood, wearing a dress gifted by another man, shining with the jewelry of his family. it made law’s entire being flare with revolt, and as if that hadn’t been enough, the scent of that prince was smeared all over your skin, causing his own to itch. treacherous thoughts a haze of unwanted images, the sight of that man hugging your shoulders; hunched over you; breath fanning over your face.

perhaps that had been the price to pay for his request for discretion; for the desperate — and unnecessary — grip he had on his privacy. your skin was unmarked, untraced. he never dared bite, never thought useful to apply perfume. no wonder that royal blood believed you free for the taking. law would need to fix that.

if he were a decent man, he would have spared the time to appreciate your efforts; to thank you for going through such lengths to save his life. yet law had not an ounce of gratitude to spare, for he cared more for the claim of your life than for the maintenance of his own.

“did you have fun?” he inquired, drawing pleasure from your wariness, shrinking as though a cornered prey. law grimaced at his approach, bitter as the prince’s perfume invaded his nostrils. “was it enjoyable being pampered while i rotted in a cell?”

your eyes widened, lips parted in shock. “of course not! i was worried sick—”

“don’t interrupt me,” law snapped, struggling to control his breathing.

it was unusual for him to behave in such an angered state, logic thrown aside for the sake of raw emotion. he was not an untamed beast of uncontrollable impulses; he was the patient feline who sent his prey to the edge of despair before offering them the sweet reprieve of death. law was not some half-assed hound who pounded without appreciating what had been given; he was not the damned eustass kid. yet, perhaps the bastard had a point — not that law would ever admit that out loud.

law kicked the small trash can straight into your feet, his eyes boring into yours. “throw it away.”

your fingers wrapped themselves around the clasp of the necklace you wore, and he clicked his tongue in annoyance, gripping the cleavage of your dress. “this one first.”

you complied, scanning him through worried eyes. law drowned in the sight of silk slipping from your shoulders to the ground, fluid fabric wavering in its descent as though a cascate of liquid, pale fire. law hated it. once he was done with you, he’d set that dress aflame with not a care for the stench whatsoever. you hunched over to grab the silk and throw it in the trash as has been instructed, yet law placed a firm hand on the crown of your head when you began to rise to your feet, forcing your knees to meet the ground.

you looked at him through your eyelashes, and his cock all but throbbed at the sight. “law—”

“why are you still with those jewels on? i told you to take it off,” he interrupted, tethering his glance to your cleavage. the lingerie set had not been altered — lacy, beige — one he had gifted to you. your hand went to the bracelet at your wrist, concentrated eyes glued to the piece. “who told you to stop looking at me?”

you shivered, careful when returning your gaze up to his face. the golden band fell onto the can, the round, diamond encrusted earrings following-in-suit. your fingers struggled with the clasp of the necklace, and law grunted with delight at the sight, aroused by your frustration. the star pendant fell into your cleavage, and had it been gifted by him, law would have commanded you to retrieve it with your teeth. but there mere thought of you doing it so in that instance had him seething.

“hurry up,” he barked, revolted with his own thoughts. you were swift — borderline desperate — in the act, throwing it out with a willingness that had him grunting in approval. “on your feet.”

despite having emerged to your full height, you shrunk under the pressure of his gaze, hugging your frame with uncertainty. law wanted to caress your cheek and spread your arms; scold you for depriving him of the sight of your breasts and abdomen, while comforting you on his desire altogether. yet, the scent lingered as though the remnant of a pest on one’s skin. law refused to give in to the urges to ravage you; to touch you as your gleaming eyes begged him to. but you would not leave without a lesson learned.

law teleported the pair of you to the bathroom, pointing towards the shower. “turn it on and stand underneath it.”

a cascade of water was bestowed upon you, soaking the fabric of your lingerie until it left nothing to the imagination. two minutes were required for it to heat up, yet law had no mercy whatsoever, forcing you to withstand the freezing liquid as he stood steps further, stripping himself without haste. vapor swirled around the room, covering inches of your flesh. your trembling stopped, and though law approached with his body bare, cock slapped against his stomach, you remained with the lingerie, for he hadn’t — and wouldn’t — order you to remove it. that had been his gift to you, and law would fuck you numb in it.

his tattooed hand closed around your neck, not quite squeezing it, yet. your head was angled as in a way to have your eyes glued to his own. “where were you touched?”

“waist,” you mumbled, ashamed. “sometimes he hugged my shoulders, too, but he’d rather have his hand on my waist.”

his pupils dilated, tempers rising. you gasped at the strength of his grip, wasting your reserve of air in a single act. law felt the wild pulse of your pressure point, crescent pace beating against the palm of his hand. underneath bone and flesh and muscle, caged amidst ribs, rested a heart whose surface that prince hadn’t touched, for that inch of you was his. every breath you took, every contraction of your heart, belonged to him. those wide, lust-coated eyes were his, as were the hardened nipples, trembling legs and awaiting lips.

law smashed his mouth against yours, more an act of violence than a kiss itself. his teeth dug into flesh, drawing blood from your lower lip, allowing it to drip down your chin. law hummed to himself at the sight, before he pushed you against the wall, ignoring the echo of your head meeting the ceramic. his canines were dragged on your shoulders, nose buried in. he hummed half-approvingly, for the water had expelled the most prominent aspects of the insufferable perfume — not nearly enough. law bit on every inch of your shoulder, steel grip unmoving on your throat, with not a care for your lack of air in your lungs. if you fell unconscious, the shower and his cock would eventually bring you back.

crystalline water merged with specks of dripping blood, soothing tongue licking your fresh wounds. law pressed himself against you, rolling his hips in order to be granted an ounce of friction. your eyes were rolled, maimed waist bearing the marks of his fingers. the grip on your neck loosened, for you could neither moan nor beg without proper breathing.

the white of his smile was tainted crimson when he smirked at you, digging his nails into your waist. “were you enjoying his attention? the festival had beautiful fireworks, wouldn’t you agree?”

his taunts fell on deaf ears. your eyes were filled with tears that dared not fall, your voice rough. the golden collar wrapped around your throat had been replaced by the mark of his fingers.

“i don’t know,” you croaked out, hissing ever-so-slightly at the wound left on your lower lip. “i was staring at you the whole time.”

his anger faltered ever-so-slightly, cock twitching at the confession. for an instance, the bathroom was filled with nothing but the steady sound of the shower and your shallow breathing. until law pressed his mouth against yours with enough strength to have your head hitting the wall behind yet again, clashing teeth; tongue forcing itself inside. he swallowed your mewl, grunting as his shaft pressed itself against you; rutting hips, dragging the tip around the slick flesh.

“law, please,” you begged, choking on your words. sadistic bastard of considerable strength. he stole the air off your lungs, yet demanded you to speak. words but a meek plea, strained and pathetic. “fuck me, please.”

“who do you belong to?” he demanded, teasing your entrance with his leaking tip.

“you,” he dug his teeth into your shoulders, squeezing your neck. his eyes spoke when words failed him; narrowed slits demanding for more. “i’m yours, yours!”

he grunted, shoving his cock inside. law increased the pressure on your neck, muffled moans sending vibrations through your skin as he slid in — base to the tip; balls slapping your ass. his tip assaulted your g-spot, hardened nipples sliding onto his chest. the angle itself was odd; challenging. your back slipped, and your legs wrapped themselves around his waist, offering him a better angle and chance to support your weight. you let out a strangled, desperate moan when his tip forced itself deeper, a ruthless pace that gave neither of you enough time to form a coherent thought.

law retreated from your shoulder in order to catch a glimpse of your face. water had united some of your eyelashes; your lips were swollen where he bit it; your eyes were facing a losing battle against consciousness. he had never seen a prettier sight.

your legs trembled, muted sounds pointing out to the approach of your bliss. law threw his head back to witness it in its full glory, snapping his hips with particular strength, holding a moan at the sensation of your walls — tightening; caging him. when you came, spurs of white smeared the pool of water underneath, law picked up his pace, torturing your abused cunt as he selfishly seeked out his own bliss.

law was a doctor. he did not fall into the spectrum of irresponsible individuals who thought themselves acquitted to the effects of unprotected sex. he had a fair stash of condoms well-hidden and set for usage, and if he ever were to run out of it, either your stomach, tits or face were chosen to be smeared with his cum. however, after the previous demonstration of desire from another, law grew territorial. his cock was yet sheltered within your walls when he reached his high, smearing your insides with his essence and grunting in the process of it all — knowing that you were his; that it was your tight, demanding cunt who milked him dry. his hand raised from your throat to caress your cheeks with an affection at odds with his past behavior.

you were soaked; exhausted. with his load lodged inside, traces of his teeth on your maimed shoulder. you would be sore in the morning, and the collar of his fingers would linger for at least a week. not the bride of a prince — rather the treasure of a pirate.

— 🐈‍⬛ : i should NOT be allowed to write this man. happy kinktober friday!

[dropsnectar]

Your Puppy Siren!: When a Siren Gets his Legs

M!Siren x gn!reader

NSFW

You had just moved into your aunt's summer house. It was a lovely place with its own private beach. You had been excited to go on a morning swim when, on one of the rocks by the shore, you found him. He was covered in grey skin and scales that shone sea blue in the sunlight. He scared you at first, causing you to run away, but you had made the mistake of tripping over your own bag before inhaling a mouthful of sand.

This seemed to amuse the creature as it laughed lightly at you. He continued to stay at his rock and raised his hands. He made quiet keening sounds, as if to sooth you. You had to admit it worked. You had never heard such a lovely sound before coming from a creature. Something about the texture of it made your heart flutter.

You kept your distance but tried to speak with him. He didn’t reply, but made gestures to your hair, which you had been growing long lately. He made the gesture again and let out a long beautiful sound. Was he? Complimenting your hair?  

You put your hand to your heart and smiled. He seemed to get the gist because he sang out a low relaxing serenade. The two of you went on like this for an hour. Eventually, you felt brave enough to rummage through your bag for a tuna fish sandwich. Slowly, you made your way towards the creature, showed you ripping off a piece of your sandwich, and taking a bite. You ripped off another piece and handed it to him.

His fingers ghosted around yours as he took the food, his skin was cool. 

He took a hesitant bite, before finishing it off in one go. He seemed to like it as he reached his hand out for more. You moved closer, sitting on the other side of his rock. When you handed him the last piece he put one of his hands on top of yours. He carefully took the sandwich from your fingers and brought it to your lips, gesturing for you to open your mouth. You did so, and the merman warbled gleefully, popping it in. As you chewed, he watched your mouth with interest.

When you had finished the sandwich, he was still humming, his feelings of satisfaction evident by his tones. He moved closer to you and pointed to his mouth, then to you. You wiped your mouth instinctively but he pouted. Carefully, he leaned forward, and pressed his lips to yours. They tasted salty. Your face heated and you put a hand on his scaled shoulder. He slipped a textured tongue into your mouth and you moaned around him, leaning your body flush against him.

You were surprised by the fire of the kiss. You felt needy and desperate almost immediately. There was something about his tongue that felt like fireworks and when he pulled away, how he nudged your forehead with his own was so cute. Except for the static shock that shot through your forehead. That hurt like a bitch.

You swore and shot away from his face, eyes hazy. 

“Don't move too much, you could fall!” A worried voice chirped toward you. You looked up to see the merman leaning over you with concern.

“You… you can talk?” You whispered. He gave you a lopsided grin and hummed a lovely little serenade. After a moment, he continued. “I didn't before. But you gave me enough of your mind for a moment so I could learn! Now I can speak as well as you!”

“Like, Merman magic or something.”

He laughed and pulled you closer to him again. 

“What an adorable thing to say. We do have types of magic, though I will admit, its more of an instinctual sort.”

He leaned toward you and started leaning down, rubbing his cheek against your shoulder. His other hand hand reached around your waist, holding you close to his cool body. Honestly, his scales felt nice under the heat of the sun. You leaned into him as he hummed. 

“You're voice is beautiful Mr. Mermaid.” You mentioned a bit shyly. He beamed at you with eyes that stared a little too hard.

“I'm a Siren actually! But you were close! Mermaids don't come to shore often, so I hope you don't have the misfortune of running into one.”

He started playing with your hair happily. He was very affectionate, this Siren. 

“Aren't Sirens… you know. Supposed to eat people?” You said, somewhat at a whisper. He paused in disbelief for a second and bit his lip, revealing sharp teeth. 

“While you look particularly scrumptious, we don't tend to eat humans. Though if I was traveling with my pod, our song could capture a good shark or a whale that would feed us for quite a while. Not that a perfectly spiteful Siren couldn't do it.” 

He kept answering your questions, the whole time refusing to let his hands leave you. You had to admit, after that kiss, it had really flustered you. But your curiosity won out. Eventually, it grew dark and you told your new… friend? That you would need to head home as it was getting too dark for you to see.

“All this talking and I don't know your name.” 

He looked at you with quirked brows. “You wouldn't be able to pronounced it with your human tongue, but… you can call me Baby. Yes. That will fit perfectly.”

Heat filled your cheeks. “Baby? You should know thats more of an endearement then an actual name…” 

“We have been talking all day. Are we not close to each other now?” He made a dramatic face of disappointment. 

“Please call me Baby. I like that name. I will answer to nothing else.” His tone was final. 

Seeing that he would not budge, you acquiesced. He begged you to come visit him the next day, and you did. In fact, you visited him every chance you got. You had him try different human food, and the two of you had even set up a book reading arrangement. It seemed his language magic also stretched to written language.

You loved listening to his voice. Whether he was warbling or using his human pitch, it always gave you a little pep. 

He continued to glue himself to you, hands always wandering. He'd wrap them around your waist, massage your shoulders, and hold your hand every chance he got. Whenever you called to him, he would look at you pointedly, waiting in earnest until you said what he wanted to hear.

“Baby.” You'd sigh, and he'd keen and be merry for the rest of your conversation. He was so earnest, it was adorable.

Today though, something was different. Summer was starting to transition to fall. You didn't know how but you knew he would have to leave. Your sweet little Siren couldn't stay with you forever.

He finally confirmed this himself.

“The water is getting too cold for me. Ill have to return to my pod soon.” 

“I'll miss you.” You admitted, wrapping your arms around yourself as the cool air swept up.

He looked at you with such longing, his face leaning closer to yours. 

“May I kiss you?”

You paused a moment, eyes staring into his heated gaze and pretty mouth. You nodded, and he pounced on you, crushing his lips to yours. You stayed like that for a while. As you started to moan he started to hum into you, a beautiful noise that filled you with hope and flooded your core.

“Are you putting a spell on me Mr. Mermaid?” You teased, head getting dizzy as he started rubbing the gap between your swim shirt and swim trunks. His mouth ghosted over your neck now, and he was starting to hump at your thigh with his tail his eyes lidded. 

“Thats not my name.” He pouted, pulling down your trunks, airing you out for him and the ocean to see. 

“Baby.” you breathed out, pushing his head down to your most sensitive area, and skimming the place that made you moan best with your fingers. He grinned happily, and started to experiment, his rough fingers drawing circles around you. Eventually, you started to leak. This seemed to surprise Baby. It made sense, as he lived in water.

“It means I feel good.” You admitted bashfully. He experimentally touched the fluid with his finger and brought it up to his mouth. He made a low trilling sound, his eyes changing color. You had never seen that before. He pushed you down onto the sand, and started sucking you down. As you chocked out in pleasure he continued. You felt that familiar live wire feeling, buried beneath all the sensation he was giving you and you knew he was using that magic of his. For what you didn't know. 

He started to sing, the vibrations of it echoing through you and you jerked manically. He kept itup, singing the most beautiful tune. It was full of lust and need and want and as you looked down at him you could see his tail was humping a hole into the sand beneath him. You hoped it felt good, as you could see something had emerged from his tail, a curved, ocean blue cock. You couldn't make out much else as he sucked you down hard again, causing waves of pleasure to crash through you.

“Am I making you feel good?” You could tell he was looking for praise. 

“So good. You've been such a good boy-- ah!” He had chosen that moment to pump two of his slick fingers into you, gently tracing your spongy walls. You jerked some more, feeling you were close.

“Baby, mmm Baby so good.” You drooled out as he experimented with tracing a certain spot inside you, driving you mad. 

He was singing again as you came, his voice making your core even hotter, like it always did.

“Wanna breed you. Can i?” He was looking at you from under his blue grey lashes. You nodded, but frowned, as he was slowing his pumping. You felt your tension recede and you whined out, nose wrinkling.

“Please! Take me!” You finally gave in and his lips quirked up in triumph as he pulled himself up to mount you and thrust inside. 

You both choked out, his groans going from human to inhuman, as he made little chirping and warbling sounds, drool dripping down his chin. He pumped himself into you, slowly at first. Their was a strange sensation and you realized he was growing inside you. Longer, his ridges were more pronounced and it felt divine.

“You feel so-mmmnn.” He was singing again, and this time it had magic to it. It was like some invisible force had invaded your mind, scratching an itch you never knew you had. You groaned out as you came hard around his cock, the feeling so delicious you didn't even know if you were breathing. You were just sensation and pleasure and you knew he was using his magic, he couldn't help it, you just felt so good and that's what sirens did.

You didn't know how you could comprehend all this as you came but you continued to ride out your high. Baby was so sex drunk he was grinning at you as he keened.

“Nothing… has felt… as good as you!” His strokes were  faster now, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. Something was different, but your hazy mind couldn't understand what, you just kept coming. 

And then he came, his seed hot inside you. Baby was so cute, his breath shaky as he leaning over you, finally collapsing onto your body. He was silent now for the first time your whole session.

“I love you.” He said, as easy as if he was stating the weather. Then he sat up and crossed his legs.

His legs?? 

This seemed as much as a surprise to him as you. 

“This is perfect.” He breathed, wiggling his new toes. “Now I’ll never have to be without you again!”

***

Siren magic is so interesting, maybe ill write a part two? 

(Future Nectar here, I did a part 2!)

Part Two

[nlvrr]

CHEERLEADER | jude bellingham

summary: you go to your new boyfriend’s football game to support him which leads to an abrupt hard launch to your relationship.

warnings: fluff, implied sexual themes

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader

chapter 1 , game day at madrid

the mirror in front of you felt like a stranger as you studied your reflection. you hadn’t worn a jersey in years, let alone go to one. but today was different. it wasn’t just any jersey. It was your boyfriend, jude’s. his number 5 stretching across your back. you’d seen him wear it with pride countless times, but wearing it now felt… strange, in the most exciting way possible.

“is this really happening?” you muttered to yourself, tapping the fabric against your chest. with a soft sigh, you slid it on, the oversized fit swaying gently with each movement. you gaze shifted to your reflection in the full-length mirror. nervous but excited. ready but not sure at the same time.

another buzz from your phone startled you as you slipped on a pair of sneakers. jude’s name with a tiny heart next to it flashed across the screen. his text made your heart beat a little faster.

“are you ready? im about to hit the field. can’t wait to finally see you here.”

your fingers shook slightly as you typed back.

“i’m almost there. so ready to cheer you on.” you felt a flush on your cheeks after you hit send. it felt surreal saying “your boyfriend,” even in a text. her had quickly become the one constant in your life, his sweet laugh, the way he cared for the smallest details…

you grabbed your bag, pausing in the doorway for a second. how are you supposed to feel? nervous? exited? confident?

the drive felt like a blur, as if the whole world was moving too quickly. the closer you got to the stadium, the louder the noises outside became. the fans. the tailgate parties. everywhere you looked, people were wearing the same jerseys, hats, and scarves. the bright glow of neon banners and screens teased you. the overwhelming sound of cheering from stadium-goers carried through the streets.

once you parked, the walk toward the place jude calls home seemed to drag on forever. the pulse in your neck mimicked the beat of the cheering fans.

the stadium towered above you, all sharp edges and glaring lights. the crowd was a moving sea of colors, shouts of anticipation weaving into the heartbeat of the city. you pulled the jersey tighter around yourself as you threaded through the bustling fans, their excited energy contagious.

finally stepping into the grand stands, you were hit with an overwhelming view of the field. rows upon rows of perfectly manicured green stretched out before you, floodlights making the blades of grass look almost unreal. the smells of all different aromas took over your nose, the freshly cut grass, the smell of fireworks due to a pregame celebration and the mix of different foods. it was oddly comfortable.

your phone buzzed again. jude.

“where are you?”

you smirked, thumb tapping away quickly.

“somewhere cheering you on, superstar. don’t worry. I’m hard to miss.”

sliding your phone into your bag, you found your seat. It was closer to the sidelines than you’d expected, almost perfect for catching every move he made. the players were warming up already, and even from afar, you could see jude, easily recognizable in his number five jersey.

it felt like he sensed your gaze before he spotted you. he jogged to the sideline, loosening up with a final stretch, before sneaking a glance toward the stands. the second his eyes landed on you, his smile softened and he lifted his arm to give you the smallest wave. you grinned, lifting your fingers in a shy little wave back.

“nice jersey!” someone yelled beside you, clearly spotting his name on your back. you turned, cheeks heating up slightly. “i guess we know which team you’re rooting for,” the older man added, laughing lightly as you nodded.

“you could say I have a favorite player,” you joked back.

jude, watching from the field, probably noticed your flustered reaction because he ducked his head with an amused shake of his own, clearly proud of himself. this was quickly interrupted with a punch from one of his teammates and he laughed, running to the bench to talk to his coach. a warmth bloomed in your chest; he was yours, and there was something special about seeing him in his element.

-

the energy in the stadium was electric—the fans roaring, chanting jude’s name as his goal decided the match. your voice was already hoarse, throat tight with excitement as you cheered your heart out. as the final whistle blew, jude’s arms shot up in victory, and before you knew it, you were being nudged and congratulated by fans around you who assumed you were just another supporter.

moments later, when players were wandering closer to the sidelines again, jude found you with his eyes and mouthed something exaggerated and teasing, tapping his jersey. you squinted, trying to read his lips. Nice shirt.

your rolled your eyes playfully, laughing as you motioned for him to get back to celebrating with his team. still, the moment lingered between you two like it carried a weight only the two of you could understand.

-

the tunnel was chaotic. a mix of buzzing fans, random staff members weaving through, and reporters darting around like vultures hunting for prey. your leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching it all, trying to keep a low profile. it wasn’t exactly your scene, but you’d been waiting for jude to finish his interview with the media.

and then, there he was, fresh from the match, looking exhausted but that usual cocky grin still plastered on his face. His messy hair and shirt sticking to his skin only added to the scrappy-but-charming vibe. when his eyes landed on you from across the chaos, his whole demeanor shifted—like he’d spotted his favorite person in the crowd. his lips curved into that easy grin, and for a moment, the madness around him seemed to fade.

you leaned off the wall with a grin of your own. "you took your sweet time," you teased, eyebrow raised.

he walked up with an exaggerated slow pace, clearly enjoying how much he could mess with you. “miss me already?”

“do i look like i’m dying to see you?” you smirked, folding your arms.

he leaned in, ignoring the close group of reporters nearby, giving you an exaggerated look like really?“come on. You can’t tell me you’ve survived this long without me.”

“oh, i’m surviving.” you gave him a playful shove. “i’m just bored, that’s all.”

just as he opened his mouth to reply, a couple of reporters, catching sight of him walking toward you, began to rush forward. jude, always quick to pick up on what was happening, straightened up and snapped into his public persona. he gave you a wink before he turned toward them with a practiced, easy smile.

“jude! congrats on the win! what an assist, yeah? could you tell us how you’re feeling about this season?”

“happy with how things went today,” he said smoothly, giving his usual ‘team-player’ response. but there was that familiar distance in his voice, like he wasn’t entirely present. it was clear, he’d answered these questions a hundred times before.

another voice interrupted. “and who’s that with you? a new girlfriend, jude?”

you could practically feel the moment hanging in the air between you both. A new girlfriend?

his smile remained, but there was a subtle shift in his body language, and then, he slid in front of you just a little, instinctively protecting your space. his tone didn’t change, but there was an edge to it. “that’s enough questions for today, yeah?”

the reporters, not willing to give up, pushed a few more questions. your could hear snippets but the responses turned into a blur. jude kept the conversation light, answering in the most polished, public-friendly way, as if this moment didn’t matter much to him.

with the last camera flash blinding you, jude’s hand brushed your lower back gently, urging you to walk toward the car park. the overwhelming weight of the attention felt like it was fading, but a few lingering reporters took notice. it only took a second, and before you could even fully process what was happening, you heard a sharp click behind you.

a photographer had snapped a picture—the kind that could get recycled into another stupid article. your barely registered it, your heart racing, more than a little annoyed by how easily they caught the moment. your gaze shot to jude, who paused and glanced back.

“you’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered under his breath, but the words barely had time to leave his lips before he took a deep breath and leaned in close to you, turning his attention back to you instead. “its the game, babe,” he said in a quiet, dry tone.

you shook your head, trying to calm the mild irritation swelling inside of you. “i don’t like being the game.” your eyes stayed ahead, trying to put as much distance between the scene and the cameras.

“tell me about it.” her nudged you playfully with his elbow. “you’re the mysterious new girlfriend, huh? how’d that for a headline?”

“thats what they’re going with?” you raised an eyebrow as you both stepped into the quieter car park, finally leaving the madness behind.

he shrugged, walking with easy strides beside you. “they’ll spin it any way they can. but it’ll keep them happy for a while.”

you shot him a teasing look. “of course, you’d be the one to feed the drama.”

"drama’s where the fun’s at." he smirked. "but you look good in a headline. guess that's not all bad."

you rolled your eyes to jude’s playful teasing that still managed to make you smile as you arrived to the car.

jude leaned in and opened the car door for you, his fingers brushing lightly against the edge of the frame as he did. there was an effortless ease to his movement, a silent promise in his quiet gesture.

“thank you," you said, your voice softer as you climbed into the seat, trying to shake off the feeling of being thrust into the chaos.

jude lingered for a second longer, and you could feel his gaze on you as you settled. he stepped in closer, his breath warm against your skin. “ill meet you at your apartment after i’m done with the guys," he said, voice lowered, the playful tone gone as something more genuine replaced it. "shouldn’t be too long, but i’ll text you when i’m on my way.”

you raised an eyebrow, giving him an amused look. “you sure about that?”

his lips curled into his signature grin, all cockiness and charm. “would i lie to you?”

“guess I’ll find out.” the words were playful, but there was something else there, a curiosity—you hadn’t expected the weight in his voice just now.

he seemed to read it, his eyes searching yours for a moment, then it was like a switch flicked—he was closer, too close to ignore. without another word, he gently cupped your face with one hand, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek. the sudden proximity caught your breath, the playful tension shifting into something more electric.

he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours.

the kiss was slow, teasing, barely more than a graze at first. his lips were warm, fitting perfectly against yours, but it was the intensity of it—how everything else in the world blurred out of existence for just that second—that left you breathless. when he pulled away, your chest tightened with the weight of his absence.

there was that teasing glint back in his eye, but it was clouded by something deeper, a promise unspoken. “see you soon,” he said, his voice low, husky.

you swallowed, struggling to push the immediate need rising inside of you down. That kiss hadn’t been long enough infact, it was far from it. and now, that familiar longing was twisting inside you, making your mind whirl.

jude shut the door gently, the final sound of his footsteps echoing in the distance before you were left in the car, the car engine humming softly in your ears.

one kiss. It hadn’t even lasted a full minute, but it was enough to leave you wanting more.

and you couldn’t help but wonder just how much more he’d be willing to give.

—

a/n: lmk if i should continue this! im not too sure but definitely could expand it

[the-palelady]

could you mayhaps perhaps potentially elaborate on simon meeting the love of his life????

this made me giggle

but absolutely

because when i tell you he is down bad…he is down bad bad.

the tickets were soap’s, but he couldn’t possibly go alone. kyle might have been down to attend, but in johnny’s eyes asking simon, a quiet man who you wouldn’t catch dead in a crowded place like this, sounded much more interesting.

of course, simon was reluctant, saying no a million times before he finally gave in. which took some bribing on soap’s end (listen, free beer is free beer).

the show was packed. shoulders touching shoulders, people practically climbing over one another as the stadium’s energy became more intense. but simon had to admit to himself that he was enjoying it, tapping his foot to the beat of the music, a beer in one hand and his free hand shoved into his pants pockets. the colorful lights reflected off his amber eyes until the shine of your own eyes caught his attention.

you were so bright eyed and full of energy. you sang each song, word for word, with the people around you, uncaring of what was going on beyond the walls of the stadium. it was just you and the music. simon almost felt like he was intruding on the peaceful moment you were having (even though ride the lightning is hardly a peaceful song).

it took until almost the end of the show for him to finally work up the courage to speak to you, pushing through the crowd of people as he followed you out to the lobby.

once the concert was over, johnny turned to simon only to find a group of teenagers standing in his place. soap didn’t expect to lose his lieutenant in a place like this. but after almost 30 minutes of searching, he really didn’t expect to find simon leaning against a wall, hands once again nestled into the pockets of his jeans and his hooded head tilted downwards, seemingly looking at something.

“there ya fuckin’ are, lt. been lookin’ for ya fo-”

johnny’s mouth locks itself shut when you come into view, his words not even reaching simon’s ears, too fixated on you.

tiny little thing you are in comparison to simon, monster of a man he is. you have a band shirt on, makeup done although your eyeliner is a bit smudged, and hair jostled about, sticking up in some places. your fingers fiddle with one another, clasped together as you rambled on about something to romeo in front of you.

a sea of people has to step around johnny, his jaw practically touching the floor as he watches simon’s usually disinterested expression stay locked onto you, eating up every word that slips from your mouth. he can see the fireworks going off in simon’s eyes, the subtle nod of his head, urging you to keep speaking. his mouth moves under the black mask that obscures the lower half of his face, but johnny’s not close enough to hear what he’s saying.

even sees his shoulders shake, laughing at something you had said, to which you join in with your own giggles.

after some time, someone shouts, and from the way you perk up, johnny assumes it’s the group you came to the concert with. when you turn back, he utters something before his hand slips out of his pocket, holding his phone out to you.

you take the device with a smile, tapping something in before handing it back and leaving with a big grin spreading across your face, cheeks rosy red and eyes just as sparkly as simon’s.

johnny’s voice doesn’t even break simon from his thoughts when he finally approaches him, still watching you scurry away with your friends.

“thought i was ‘ere to see metallica?! no’ fuckin’ romeo and juliet.”

[norris55s]

the summer i turned pretty - charles leclerc & arthur leclerc

a reader x charles leclerc & arthur leclerc love triangle, pt. 2

pt. 1

warnings: none other than angst?

a/n: a million years later here is part 2 but it’s not over ladies and gentlemen! i hope it doesn’t suck lol. part 3 will come. also i’ve now added charlotte siné as the fc for practical purposes!

————————————————————————

Day 4

————————————————————————

As I opened the door, terrified at who I was going to see behind it, I met Charles’ bloodshot eyes staring daggers into mine.

“Y/N, let’s talk, please. I screwed up, but let me explain,” he quickly said before I could even mutter a word.

I was still as speechless as I had been last night. Without a word, I moved aside to let him in my room, but he shook his head and insisted on talking to me at the beach. I just obliged, trying my best to be quiet around the house so as to not wake anyone up.

As soon as we arrived on the shore, Charles invited me to sit down and I once again just obliged. My heart was pounding on my ears and I felt like it would jump out of my body at any second.

“I feel like I should start at the beginning,” Charles said, while I looked to the sea instead of looking at him.

“I’ve always loved you. There has always been something about you that comforts me and makes me happy. I just didn’t realize how deep it went until last summer, when I realized that you kissing Antoine ruined the entire season for me.”

I tried to recall any reaction from Charles when I hooked up with Antoine last year that could’ve been a sign, but I found nothing in my memories. I was too busy sulking over the fact that he didn’t and would never like me, but I had been proved wrong 365 days later. The words were in my head but they didn’t make sense. Why would Charles Leclerc like me, much less love me?

“I’ve tried to avoid it, I’ve tried to think nothing of it, I’ve tried to deny it and it’s been no use.”

The irony of me doing the same thing for years was not lost on me. How I have pined for years not realizing he spent some of that time feeling the same way was borderline funny.

“Will you please look at me?” Charles asked with a hint of desperation in his voice, making it impossible for me to deny his request even if I knew any resolve or strength I had left in me would evaporate the minute my eyes met his.

The butterflies in my stomach felt like a swarm of wasps, and I’m sure the blush in my face evidenced it. Charles’ green eyes, the object of all my hidden wishes for as long as I could recall, stared into mine looking to decipher my emotions.

I wished I could say he found nothing but love, but in between all those beautiful feelings of loving and being loved in return, I could still sense a wretched feeling of disappointment.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” a stronger voice than expected called him out. All this time he had to know I felt the same way, but he let me believe there wasn’t a chance in hell he could care about me beyond a friendship.

“It took me too long to even understand it. Even then, I couldn’t justify changing your life on a crush, or hurt you and ruin it all. I still don’t know if I can justify it, but I know I can’t stand it anymore. I love you and I’m done pretending I don’t, or that you don’t love me too.”

When I searched into his eyes, all I could find was sincerity. And it was enough for me to jump into the deep end, leaning closer to him in hopes he would initiate the kiss I’ve desperately wanted for far too much time.

He granted my wishes, placing both of his hands on my neck to connect our lips. It was just like I imagined it.

Soft, passionate, unrushed, warm. I felt the fireworks that everyone speaks of go off in my head, and I just knew Charles felt them too.

As we pulled away to breathe, struggling to even think of ever separating me from him ever again, Charles smiled brightly.

“Can you say you love me too, mon cœur?” he asked so prettily I could coo at him.

“I love you, Charles Leclerc,” I obliged, because how could I say no to him?

“And I love you, Y/N L/N,” he replied, smiling even bigger, and kissing me even better.

Our bubble of a newfound love lasted a while, but was eventually meant to break when I received a text from Arthur.

————————————————————————

————————————————————————

The conversation about Arthur with Charles wasn’t the hard part at all. The older brother brushed the kiss off as a drunken mistake, and was a little too confident on who my choice would be.

The conversation about Charles with Arthur would be the hard part, and I didn’t even have time to settle down in my bed after the rollercoaster of emotions I had just gone through when Arthur barged in.

He looked happy to see me, and it broke my heart.

In trying to find the words to say I couldn’t be with him, and before I could mutter them, he hugged me.

“I’ve been trying to find you all this time, where have you been chérie?” Arthur smiled, but it quickly faded once he realized my energy wasn’t the same.

“Arthur…”

“Chérie, don’t say it was a mistake because you know it wasn’t. Fuck my brother, you know that this is right.”

“I’m so sorry…” I began and pushed back further away from him, as if my next words would hurt him any less because of it. “Charles and I spoke, and we have realized our feelings for each other…” I looked down, cowardly, unable to face his reaction. “You know I’ve loved him forever and I am just so sorry for leading you on.”

Like it always happened between us, I didn’t have to look at him, and he didn’t have to say anything. I just knew that we were done.

He stormed out of the room.

————————————————————————

charles_leclerc added to his stories

y/ninstagram added to her close friends stories

arthur_leclerc added to his stories

————————————————————————

[hanglimi]

fireworks - yu jimin

y/n finally got to make jimin do what she wanted, and it ended in a night that the both of them would never forget.

this is a part two of this fic!

TAGS - jimin x f! reader, fluff, slight angst, college au

WORDCOUNT - 2500~

WARNINGS - swearing, suggestiveness, THE amusement park date,

A/N - heyyyy guys, i'm sorry i was gone for like a month and a half. will i ever be consistent? no! but atleast enjoy this fic!

“go on a date with me.” 

you know you didn’t phrase it like a question–if you had even wanted to in the first place. it was more of a demand, and considering the fact that the girl in front of you had practically offered herself up to you, of course you weren't going to ask nicely and give her the opportunity to decline.

“that’s all?” jimin wondered aloud, her tone made it feel like she was making fun of your request.

you raise an eyebrow, reaching your hand out towards her own, holding it briefly–as if to enunciate your feelings. 

“if you want it so bad i could ask for much, much worse.”

she flushed red at the words and quickly backed away from you, shaking her hand violently before hitting the wall behind her with the force of her unknown feelings.

“i lied!” she sputtered, hot on her feet, quick to take the elevator down to her level.

“i’m perfectly fine with just a date!” she yelled down the hall as she entered the metal box, not noticing the multitude of heads that turned to observe her odd behaviour.

“she didn’t give me her number,” you mumbled, shutting the door as you laughed to yourself due to her idiocy.

“i’m still trying to wrap my head around this,” aeri said, her eyes overlooking the school’s campus, deep in thought. 

“you’re going on a date.” there was a pause, then a slight laugh, “with y/n? the girl who goes for anything that moves?”

“it wasn’t really an option, aeri, more of an order.” jimin’s head was on minjeong’s lap, enjoying the security and comfort it was giving her in this time of need.

“and of course you followed because you like being ordered around,” ningning giggled, teasing her friend.

“yeah, jimin.” minjeong agreed, shaking her head. “you know you could’ve easily disagreed with her offer, right?”

“you guys don’t understand because you weren’t there standing in front of her. it was her tone of voice–the way she was looking at me, i felt like i was drowning in a sea of y/n-”

“that's enough.” ning drawled and rolled her eyes, “i don’t want to hear about your sexual fantasies.”

“it’s not sexual!” jimin stressed, getting up from minjeong’s lap with speed, smacking the poor girl in the face with her hair. “it’s just a crush. a school crush, to be exact.”

“and you guys have already progressed so far in the five minutes of seeing each other to be going on a date.” minjeong said, rubbing her cheek softly with a pout on her face in pain.

“who knew jimin had more game than me,” aeri sighed, looking up at the sky and wiping an invisible tear from her eye. she stood up suddenly, clasping her hands together to create an abrupt sound.

“so?” the group looked on at her in collective confused silence. 

“when is the date? we have to prepare you for this.” aeri paced around the group, staring jimin down.

“oh my god, i forgot to get her fucking number,” jimin groans in realisation, her palms pressing into her face as she let her head fall back down into the shorter girl’s lap. this time, minjeong pushed her away, not wanting a repeat of several seconds ago.

“well then go get it, dumbass”

you let out a deep sigh as you stretched, raising your arms over your head, hearing a couple cracks release in your body as the morning sun rays forcefully entered your room through one of the closed curtains.

it was one of those rare days– the days where you weren’t scrambling to throw a party later in the evening. the days where you realised just how lonely you actually were when people weren’t drinking or smoking pot in your room. it’s not something you were particularly proud of, but either way, it was the only way you had succeeded in making lasting friends. even though half the things you and your friend group talked about with red eyes and running noses wouldn’t be remembered the following days. 

but thinking too hard about it was making your heart beat weirdly, and your lungs take in smaller amounts of air, so you ignored the thoughts and rubbed at your eyes as you made your way to your couch to catch up with your morning doom scrolling.

ten minutes in, and you were somewhat interrupted by a knock at the door, one which started off timidly but gained in volume the longer they knocked.

“whoever’s there, there's no party today!” you yelled, hoping the message got across.

after a pause, the knock sounded again, as loud as the other one ended, and you grumbled as you got up to go open it and tell the person off.

an unexpected face appeared in front of you, and you couldn't help but let out a wide smile. you could feel her eyes raking your body up and down, and while you did like a little bit of appreciation, you didn’t like how your skin started to heat up at her gaze, so you stopped her drooling short.

“what a nice gift for me at 1 in the afternoon.” you said, jimin standing in front of you, her phone held tightly in her grasp.

she slightly untensed at your words, and cocked her head. “you look like you just woke up, but it's literally 1pm.”

“a girl does what a girl needs to do” you shrug in response.

she shakes her head, and instead hands you her phone, open to a new contact page. 

“a woman with such little words, but such big actions.” you giggle, grabbing her phone, entering in your contact information. “i can get behind that.”

you hand her phone back and she just stands there, looking anywhere but your eyes. 

you raise an eyebrow, waiting for her to leave you to your devices.

“so, what’s your favourite first date spot? food-”

“oh don’t worry baby, i’ll be planning the date. just sit tight as i figure things out.”

you regret all your choices as you frantically search up on google “first date ideas.”

it’s not that you’d never gone on a date before. (you had only been on one, and honestly, it didn’t really count because the girl had to leave early anyways.) it's just that you had never gone on a date with a girl you liked this much.

jimin was an enigma to your brain–like fitting a square piece into a circle hole. she turned your heart inside and out, twisting and wringing it dry, and it’d last you through the whole day. the small amount of interactions you’ve had until this point have kept an eternal smile on your face as you create scenarios in your mind before sleeping. it’s never been like this before, and it’s definitely stressing, and scaring you. 

the flirty facade you’d been using on her can only last so long. and you just know it’d run out by the time you're on this date.

“not what I was expecting when you said you’d plan it all out.” jimin marvelled at the amusement park in front of her eyes, twisting and turning rails high up in the sky. 

“is it not to your liking?” while the way you said it had a teasing tone to it, you genuinely felt insecure as she looked around, viewing the experience.

“you know that's not what i meant.” she said, turning towards you, and gazing at your outfit. you were simply wearing a pink shirt and shorts (quite short shorts, but shorts all the same), but the way she was eating you up made you feel as though you had shown up naked.

you simply pushed her limp body towards the ticket line. one; to advance to the actual fun part of the date, and two; to get her damn eyes off of you.

the night was young, and you could tell jimin was excited by the way she was pulling your hand towards each of the activities, the smile on her face never fading. the joy she was exuding was enough to make your night as you simply watched her like a puppy observing its owner having fun. 

she looked back towards you as she ran ahead, her smile so wide it made your own lips curve up. the wind was hitting her face, making her hair flow in the same direction–all that made her look even more beautiful in your eyes. the tight feeling in your chest hadn’t gone away all night, and it wasn’t something you were used to. it was annoying you, because every time you got near the girl, your brain short circuited, your breathing close behind. this wasn’t like you, but you couldn’t say that you minded that much.

“let’s play this one y/n!” the girl screamed ahead of you, using both her hands and jumping up and down to wave you towards her. you let out a breath of happiness, and increased your pace, ignoring the tug of your heartstrings.

“this one?” you coughed, analysing the game. It was one of those ones that were bound to scam you out of your money. completely impossible, but you don’t think that’s why jimin was so eager to play it. 

the aim of the game was that one person had to wear a blindfold, holding the water gun up to the target’s level. the other player was to stand behind them, listing directions for the shooter to listen to and follow. this wasn’t the complicated part of the game–the game in itself wasn’t complicated at all honestly, just rigged. the part that got jimin so excited, so bouncy and giggly, was where the player who was directing the shooter had to wrap their arms around the other’s waist. (they definitely didn’t have to, and jimin only told you the truth after finishing the game.)

jimin was standing very close behind you. you could feel her hot breath on your neck, the hairs all over your body rising at the feeling. the clerk at the game stood there, an eyebrow raised at the your positions, but started the game anyway.

miss after miss, swear after swear, and you had ended the game with 2 points. a high score and the only score for the both of you. the ghost of her hands were still around your waist as the clerk signalled the game ending. you laughed at a comment jimin had made as you pulled the blindfold off of your face, shaking your head to properly get your hair out of your face. she stopped talking and looked at you for a quick second, before looking away and pulling you towards another game, thanking the man that stood behind the counter.

the two of you didn’t notice the clerk’s slight smile as he looked at the both of you, giggling and running away from his stand.

“young love,” he muttered into the night.

"no ferris wheel?” jimin asked you as you urgently pulled her along with you. she had dragged you to way too many stupid rides and games. well, they weren’t stupid, they were actually fun, but the whole reason you planned the date here was going to happen soon, and you had no time to waste anymore

“too boring,” you said, glancing back at her. “and i may just be deathly afraid of heights.” she laughed heartily, and you couldn’t help but grin widely at that.

you finally reached your final destination, which was an area of flat grass, where hundreds of other people sat, preparing for the show. you led her far off from any other people, and helped her sit down on the ground before lowering yourself too.

“so what did you bring me here for?” she asked, a questioning look in her eyes. she had hope in you–after all, today was the most fun she had had in days considering the amount she was studying beforehand. the grudge jimin held inside from you blasting music all day long was practically long gone. it was barely a thought she even remembered after spending this night with you.

“you trust me, right?” you stared at her in the eyes, holding her cheeks in your hands. she felt them warm up at the contact and nodded her head. “then just wait and see.”

so the two of you waited, and waited for what felt like eternity–which you wouldn’t have minded spending with jimin by your side–before you could hear people shouting in glee. you pointed upwards, redirecting jimin’s gaze to the sky, just as the first firework popped.

honestly, you think you watched the girl’s face more than the actual firework show, but the way her face lit up at each one gave you much more joy than any emotion gunpowder exploding could evoke in your body. she turned to you after a bit, and you swore you saw tears in her eyes before she hit your shoulder lightly and told you to watch the fireworks too. you listened to her for about 5 seconds, before turning to her again, capturing her face and drawing it pore for pore, line for line in your mind. that’s something that no matter how high or drunk you got, you would never forget.

the two of you had large grins on your faces as you walked out the amusement park exit, hands ghosting on top of the other.

“thanks for, you know,” you stand there and don't extrapolate, rubbing the back of your head in shyly. for the first time, you weren’t able to look into Jimin's eyes. there was something about the girl–something that was making the person you’ve hid inside for so long come back again.

“why are you thanking me?” jimin said, perplexed, and she didn’t like how she was staring at the side of your face, not at all.

“just for, like, actually coming out with me tonight.” you let out with a suspicious tightness in your chest, the intensity of her eyes was too much for you at this moment. “it was a great hangout-”

“hangout?” she cut you off, a frown forming on her face. “the deal was a date. i came out here with the mindset that this was a date.” 

“well, it could totally be a date!” you waved your hands in front of her, eyes wide as saucers–your entire demeanour screamed asking for forgiveness. “i just didn’t think you’d want it to be one. considering this wasn’t really done out of your will,” you mumbled, finally facing your body to look at her.

“i could’ve easily declined your request, y/n.” she stepped closer to you.

“i did this out of my own free will, y/n. i did it because I actually like you.” 

you froze at the comment, and the heat that was spreading all over your body decided to come up to your face, causing your cheeks to flush and a smile to break through your tight lipped mouth. 

“i’m glad,” you whispered in her ear, pulling her towards you until she was flush against your frame. the square piece that wasn’t fitting before had finally forced its way into the round hole–and you couldn’t have been any happier.

“because i definitely like you too.” you finished, and you swore that that night, another firework–not included in the show–had blown up in your heart.

A/N - why did i write this like one of them was going to die 😭😭

[hurlingdown]

new year’s eve, more like heartbreak’s eve.

it was, more accurately, the last hour of new year’s eve. there was a big countdown clock hung up in the city center, its golden frame decorated with scarlet poinsettas and other extravagant winter blooms. five minutes and twenty seven seconds, it read. 

you closed your eyes. you had heard all about new years kisses, the fiery explosions and heart-pounding imagery that came with a single moment of contact, as the world erupts into stars and fireworks behind you. it sounded lovely. almost fairy tale-like, if you were being honest, and you yearned for it. 

but there was no one with you to pull it off with. not anymore. 

with a shaky sigh, you clenched your fist, willing away all unwanted thoughts of him. you had sworn earlier that you wouldn’t think about him tonight. tonight would be a new beginning. 

the crowd shuffled around you disjointedly, and you blinked your eyes open, peeking at the clock. three minutes and thirteen seconds. you heard laughter coming from behind you, the familiarity so sharp it almost stung. 

you carefully spun around with bated breath and felt your heart stutter, an invisible string chaining you to him suddenly weighing down on your feet. 

and to your utter aversion, you found your lips parting involuntarily, the corners of your mouth lifting in immense joy. you found yourself wanting to call out to him, eyes frantically seeking his brilliant blue, hands blindly reaching out to a shadow of a figure whom you had once loved more than your own life—

as though he were still yours. 

“satoru,” you said, and it came out a breathless whisper. 

but he wasn’t there to listen. 

you checked the countdown again, your chest hollowed out with a quiet ache.

two minutes... ah, it changed. one minute and fifty-nine seconds.

you didn’t dare turn around again. satoru wasn’t alone, and you didn’t expect him to be. you wondered, would they kiss when the clock strikes zero? a perfect, happy, new years kiss? 

(there was a quiet, selfish part of you that hoped he wasn’t happy. not as happy as he were when you were together.)

and as though the devil had overheard your wishes, you heard laughter resounding again, this time brighter and louder, as though they wanted to prove you wrong.

you felt nausea creep up at the back of your throat. the tell-tale burn of tears in your eyes. you couldn’t stay here. you needed to run.

you glanced up. one minute and thirty seconds. there was enough time to make it out of here. enough time to squeeze into a back alley in the nick of time, maybe.

just as you sprinted through the crowd, uncaring of who you bumped into as long as you made it out of there in time, you caught a glimpse of turquoise blue, blue like the sea, and you loved the sea but it was cruel to you and all other things… 

it was almost funny how you were trying to run away from something so beautiful. 

tears had long blurred your eyes when you reached the deserted alley, hunched over to catch your breath. the crowd had begun to chant the final countdown, beginning with 59… 58… 57… 

a puff of smoke hit you in the face, and you coughed, fanning away the thick fumes. “who the fuck—” 

dark eyes met yours, and your breath hitched. 

42… 41… 40… 

he rudely pointed at your tear-stained cheeks, eyes crinkling with amusement. 

“got your heart broken before new years?” he hummed. “tough.” 

“shut up,” you hissed. it hurt to nudge an open wound. “like you aren’t in the same predicament. who in their right mind would be smoking their lungs black in an alley during new years?” 

“maybe i’m just allergic to crowds.” 

“or maybe,” you challenged, “you got your heart broken but you’re too much of a pussy to admit it.” 

35… 34… 33… 

he scoffed. “projecting isn’t a healthy coping mechanism, you know.” 

“neither is lying.” 

that got a smile out of him. 

the two of you fell into comfortable silence, before curiosity got the better of you.

“so… what were they like?” you mindlessly kicked at a can by your feet. “your ex, or something.” 

he took a deep breath, quiet for a moment. then, he looked up at the empty black sky as though he were re-imagining the face of his bygone lover, reminiscing the past. 

“handsome,” he said, breathless. “gentle. stern.” 

“... oh.” you didn’t know what to make of it.

“yours?” 

“i don’t think he ever really loved me,” you told him, truthfully. 

“that’s okay. it doesn’t matter anymore.” 

“it doesn’t,” you agreed. 

19… 18… 17… 

he stomped out his cigarette, turning to you. 

“hey.” 

you raised your head. “what?” 

“since we both agreed we’re single… wanna try something?” 

you frowned. “try what?” 

“just close your eyes and trust me, yeah?” 

“try what?” 

he sighed. “don’t you just love to spoil shit. a new years kiss, dumbass.” 

you swallowed, butterflies suddenly invading your stomach in swarms. a new years kiss… with this pretty stranger. it didn’t sound too bad. it sounded amazing, actually. 

10… 9… 8… 

“is that a yes? in case you didn’t notice, we’re kinda running out of time.” 

“fuck it. you know what, yeah, let’s do it.” 

you looked into his eyes, and they looked so dark underneath the dim light, you couldn’t help but wonder what colour they would be in the sun. 

you could feel your heart give a flutter in your chest as he met your gaze, and this time, it wasn’t the painful kind. 

4… 3… 2… 1… 

and just as the rest of the world was blowing up with deafening cheers of happy new years and somewhere out there your ex-boyfriend was busy making out with his new fling, you squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your lips to dry, chapped ones which hungrily returned the kiss, and it was strangely easy and unafraid. 

you could taste the smoke in his mouth and the press of calloused palms at the back of your neck, and immediately you knew it was the best thing you had ever done. 

you found that you no longer cared if he was happy or not. 

because this electrifying feeling injected into your veins, coursing through you like fiery, liquid sunlight… this was a feeling that belonged to you and you only, something new and blooming that he couldn’t manage to chain down with the past. 

and for the first time in a long while, you felt so light you could breathe.  

[billiesguitar]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐄𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡

"Still hate me?"

"S-shit!" I murmured, stumbling backward and landing on the cold, hard floor. The room was spinning, my vision blurred by a sea of faces that all seemed to be laughing at me. I was so drunk it was hard to even make out the words that were being thrown around, the music pounding in my ears like a never-ending headache.

"Looks like someone had a little too much fun," a voice said, cold and mocking.

I looked up to see Billie standing over me, her signature black hair falling around her.

i roll my eyes "Bite me."

"With pleasure," she smirked, extending a hand to help me up.

I took it begrudgingly, and she yanked me up onto my feet.

"Thanks I guess." I muttered, brushing off my clothes.

"You're welcome," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

We hated each other. It had been a long-standing rivalry that had started when we were just kids. But tonight was different. The alcohol had lowered my inhibitions, and the way she was looking at me, with a glint in her eye that I had never seen before, was sending my heart racing in a way that was anything but friendly.

"well, i'll see you around," I stumbled away from her.

"Not if I see you first," she called after me.

I managed to make my way to the bathroom, where I splashed cold water on my face and took a deep breath. "What the hell is going on?" I whispered to my reflection. as I reapply my mascara and lip gloss, all I can think about is Billie, the way she walks, talks, and her eyes.

When I came out, Billie was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. "you doin' alright?" she asked.

"Fine," I replied, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "Just had to take a breather, Why do you care?"

"Who told you I care?" she said, pushing off the wall and coming closer. "I just don't want to see you make a fool of yourself."

"I can handle myself," I snapped.

"Oh, I think we both know that's not true," she said, her voice low and challenging. "But maybe I can help you with that."

Before I could react, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me into a nearby room, closing the door behind us.

"What the hell are you doing?" I yelped.

"Just what you need," she said, her eyes darkening.

And before I knew it, her lips were pressed against mine, hard and demanding. I gasped in surprise, but she took the opportunity to slip her tongue into my mouth. It was like nothing I had ever felt before, like fireworks going off in my head.

I weakly claw against her chest, but she ignored it. "Billie," I murmured, not sounding nearly as confident as I wanted to.

"Want me to stop?" she whispered against my mouth, her breath hot and sweet.

"No," I found myself admitting, my hands moving to her waist.

"Good," she said, and then she kissed me again, this time with more force.

Her hands were everywhere, roaming over my body as if she owned it. She pushed me against the wall, her body pressing into mine as she kissed down my neck. I could feel my knees giving out, but she held me up, her grip on my hips firm and possessive.

"You like that?" she murmured, her teeth grazing my earlobe.

"Yes," I breathed, arching my neck to give her better access.

"You're so responsive," she said, a hint of a smile in her voice.

Her hands slid up my shirt, and she began to unbutton my pants. "Billie-"

"I said I'd help you," she interrupted, her voice firm. "And I always keep my promises."

Her hands found my skin, and she began to tease me, her fingertips lightly tracing patterns along my stomach and hips. I couldn't help the little moan that escaped my lips.

"See?" she said, her breath hot against my neck. "You need this."

I nodded, unable to form words. She was right. I needed it. I needed her.

Her hands found my breasts, and she began to massage them through my shirt. I gasped as she pinched my nipples, the sensation sending shockwaves through my body.

"Take it off," she ordered, and I complied, letting my shirt fall to the floor. She took a moment to appreciate the view, her eyes lingering on my bare skin before she bent down to kiss me again.

Her mouth moved from my neck to my breasts, her teeth scraping against my sensitive flesh as she sucked and licked. I was lost in sensation, my mind a haze of pleasure.

"Billie," I whimpered, my hands fisting in her hair.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice low and seductive.

"You," I said simply.

"Good girl," she murmured, her hand sliding down to unzip my pants. She pulled them down, along with my underwear, leaving me naked before her.

"Now, get on the bed," she said, pointing to the rumpled mess in the corner of the room.

I obeyed, my legs shaking as I climbed onto the mattress. She followed, straddling my hips and looking down at me with a wicked smile.

"Such a slut, aren't you, hm?" she said, her voice filled with a mocking affection. "Begging for it like this."

"I'm not a slut," I protested weakly.

"Oh no?" she said, her thumb circling my clit. "Then tell me what you want."

"I-I want you to-to fuck me," I stuttered, my face burning with embarrassment.

"That's more like it," she said, and she leaned down to kiss me again. Her hand continued to work my clit, her fingers sliding in and out of me with an expert touch.

I moaned into her mouth, my body responding to her every move. She was in complete control, and I loved it.

"You're so wet," she coos, "Just for me, hm?"

"Yes," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

Billie smirked, moving down to kiss my stomach and then lower. She hovered over my pussy, her breath making me squirm.

"Please Billie" I begged. "need you s'bad."

Without another word, she buried her face between my legs, her tongue sliding through my folds and finding my clit. She licked and sucked with a passion that surprised me.

"Fuck," I gasped, my back arching.

suddenly she stops.

"Need you to be quiet ma, can't have anyone one knowing you're gettin' fucked so good by your enemy,can you?"

I nodded, biting my lip to stifle my moans. She grinned and went back to work, her tongue moving with an intensity that had me seeing stars.

I felt my orgasm building, my muscles tightening as she brought me closer and closer to the edge.

"Billie," I moan a bit to loud causing her to stop

"What did I say?" she looked up at me, her eyes dark and demanding. She glides up and wraps her hand around my chin, forcing me to look at her. "Hm, didn't I tell you to be quiet?"

I nodded again, my eyes wide.

"Words."

"Yes," I whispered.

"Good," she said, reaching down and lightly biting my neck and then sucking on the spot to sooth the pain. She starts to kiss me again, and I felt myself getting wetter.

Her fingers slid into me again, moving in a rhythm that made me see spots. I bit my lip harder, trying to keep the noise in.

"That's it," she murmured, her voice filled with satisfaction. "Take it all for me."

And then she was moving again, her tongue flicking against my clit as she curled her fingers inside of me. It was too much. I couldn't hold back anymore.

My orgasm crashed over me like a wave, my body convulsing as she continued to lick and suck. I moaned quietly, my eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure consumed me.

"Good girl" she said, moving back up to kiss me, her mouth tasting of me.

I looked up at her, my vision still hazy.

"You're not done yet," she said, her voice still firm.

She climbed off the bed and reached into the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out a strap-on.

"What are you-?" I started to protest, but she silenced me with a look.

"I'm going to fuck you," she said, her voice cold and commanding.

"turn around, ass up." she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

I did as I was told, my heart racing as she secured the strap-on around her hips.

"Ready?" she asked, her hand resting on my lower back.

I nodded, my voice lost.

"I can't hear you," she says, tugging on my hair to make a makeshift ponytail with her fist.

"Yes," I murmured.

"Good."

And then she was pushing into me, the strap-on filling me up in a way that was both painful and exhilarating.

"Fuck," I gasped.

"That's it," she said, her hand coming down on my ass in a firm slap. "Take it."

Her strokes grew harder, faster, and I found myself pushing back into her, craving more. She slapped me again, and I moaned, my body on fire.

"You like it, don't you my little slut?" she asked, her voice taunting.

"Y-yes," I stuttered, my cheeks flushing.

Her free and snakes it way to my throat ,"You're mine, aren't you?" she whispers, her grip tightening.

"Y-yes," I croak out.

Her hand releases my throat, and I breathe out a sigh of relief.

"Good," she says, her voice softer now.

Tears of pleasure stream down my face as she picks up the speed of her thrusts. It's almost too much, but I want more. I need more.

"Billie," I whine, "I'm going to-"

"Don't you fucking dare, not yet." She says, slapping me again.

I moan, my body shaking with the effort to hold back.

"Look at me," she orders.

I turn my head, and she's there, her eyes locked on mine. They're not cold anymore, but filled with something else, something that makes my heart race even faster.

"Come for me," she whispers, and that's all it takes.

My second orgasm hits me like a truck, my body spasming around her as I scream out her name. She groans, her own pleasure clear in her voice.

"Still hate me?"

____

posted on October 6th 2024 || not proofread.

[magical-reid]

Who's Your Friend?

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Word count: 800 (this one's short!)

Summary: When Y/N encounters a Ravenclaw boy named Luke, who informs her about their Muggle Studies project partnership, Fred becomes noticeably protective and jealous. Despite Fred’s dismissive attitude, his actions reveal his underlying feelings, while Y/N teases him about his jealousy as they walk back to their friends.

The courtyard was bustling with students, a sea of robes swaying as they streamed out of the castle after classes. My friends stood beneath the large oak tree, their laughter carrying over the chatter of the crowd. I started toward them, but an unfamiliar voice stopped me in my tracks.

“Hey, Y/N, isn’t it?”

I turned, raising an eyebrow. The voice belonged to a Ravenclaw boy I recognized but had never spoken to. His dark brown hair was slightly messy, and his sharp black eyes studied me with curiosity. Despite his defined features, his faintly rosy cheeks softened his otherwise stoic look.

I glanced to my left and right, unsure if he was actually addressing me. His gaze didn’t waver.

“Yes?” I replied cautiously, wondering if I had done something wrong.

“You weren’t in class yesterday,” he said.

Internally, I giggled. Instead of attending Muggle Studies, I’d been lounging by the lake with my friends, enjoying the sunshine and skipping stones on the water. It had been worth it, even if McGonagall had given us all a stern lecture and a week of detention for “failing to take our studies seriously.”

The boy continued, “We got partnered for the new Muggle Studies project. I figured I’d let you know since you missed the lesson. Maybe we could work on it outside of class if you have time?”

I offered him a polite smile. “Oh, that’s so nice of you to let me know—”

Before I could finish, a familiar arm looped around my shoulders. The scent of peppermint and fireworks instantly gave him away.

Fred.

“Who’s your little friend here?” Fred’s voice was teasing, but the way he emphasized little made my lips twitch. The Ravenclaw boy was only an inch or two taller than me, a stark contrast to Fred’s towering frame.

Fred’s grip on my shoulder tightened slightly as he tilted his head, his warm brown eyes catching the sunlight in a way that momentarily distracted me. “Is he bothering you?” he asked, glancing at me before his expression shifted into a sharp, mocking smile directed at the boy. “So, where do we know each other from, hmm?”

The Ravenclaw boy cleared his throat, clearly flustered but trying to maintain his composure. “I was just telling her we’re partners for the Muggle Studies project. It’s nothing special.”

“Is that so?” Fred quipped, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

The boy turned as if to leave, but Fred’s hand shot out, halting him. “Why so nervous all of a sudden?” Fred smirked before flicking his gaze to me. “Was I interrupting something?”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I looked helplessly at the Ravenclaw, who simply shook his head and waved it off.

“Another time,” he mouthed, retreating quickly into the crowd.

Fred watched him leave before turning back to me. “Well then, let’s go. We’ve been waiting for you,” he said, his tone lighter now.

As we walked away, curiosity got the better of me. “What’s his name, anyway?” I asked, though I immediately regretted it.

“Luke,” the boy had said earlier, but Fred’s reaction was as predictable as it was amusing.

Fred frowned, his hands clenching briefly into fists. Subtlety had never been his strong suit. He grabbed my hand and pulled me a few steps further before stopping abruptly.

“Who was that?” he asked, his voice dropping into a much deeper register.

I raised an eyebrow at him. “He literally told you, Fred. He’s my Muggle Studies partner. You know, the class I didn’t show up to because I was at the lake with you and the others?”

Fred stepped closer, so close our noses brushed. His expression was unreadable except for the intensity in his eyes.

“I. Don’t. Believe. It.”

I giggled at his ridiculous seriousness but quickly stopped when his frown deepened. “You can believe whatever you want, but it’s the truth,” I said, holding his gaze.

He tilted his head, much like he had before, but this time his lips parted as if to argue. Whatever he was about to say, he decided against it, closing his mouth with a sharp exhale.

As we walked the last few meters to the tree where my friends were waiting, I couldn’t help myself. I tiptoed, resting my chin on his shoulder and grinning up at him.

“Is Freddie jealous?” I teased, adding a pair of exaggerated puppy-dog eyes for good measure.

Fred’s face remained stoic, but the corners of his mouth twitched ever so slightly.

“No,” he said flatly.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Despite his denial, the tension in his shoulders betrayed him. I smirked, feeling more confident now.

“Whatever you say, Fred,” I said lightly, skipping ahead to join the others.

But even as he tried to act unbothered, Fred’s eyes followed me like a hawk, ensuring no other Ravenclaws—or anyone else—came too close.

[saphig-iawn]

Installing Updates

You had a good night. A little session with me, followed by playing some games and just enjoying the evening to yourself.

Tiredness was making itself known, hanging on your shoulders and soothing your eyes to a gentle sleep, but your PC was still running and the last time you left it on overnight meant you were greeted by a uncomfortably warm room the following day.

You shrug off sleep's welcoming blanket and go through your little rituals; resisting one more quick game, closing everything down, turning off the lamp at your desk, repositioning the little figurine you knocked over when reaching for the lamp.

A blaze of solid colour greets you as your lamp turns off; your adjusting eyes fighting through the torrent of light to see what was happening on your monitor.

A Windows update…

You practically go limp in your chair with twinned apathy and disappointment, a sigh hanging in the air where you were holding yourself up. You fought off the notifications for so long, but your PC finally got you when your guard was down.

Usually you would've just pulled yourself up from your chair and left for your bed, but an unknown error interrupted the last update and you found your meticulously arranged desktop all rearranged and Edge had reinstalled again so you decided to just sit and let this one pan out.

What was a couple more minutes at your desk?

You tiredly chuckle under your breath when you remember the spinning dots at the centre of the screen is called throbber, and right now they're the best entertainment to keep you occupied.

The percentage number finally appears and begins its steady march through single digits.

You sigh again, realising this could be one of those ones where the PC restarts a whole bunch, so you decide to snuggle into your chair a little, resting your weary head on your shoulder.

A laboured blink rolls through your eyes.

20% complete.

Your head lolls with another chuckle, perhaps next time you blink the update would've sped up again, like skipping a cutscene.

In your tiredness, you decide to commit to the bit you've spun in your head and blink.

34% complete.

A little spark of joy lifts the veil of sleep for a moment, hehe your new power works!

Blink.

45% complete.

Blink.

58% complete.

Bllliink

66% complete.

Bllllllliiiinnnkk…

78% complete.

Your head was growing heavy, your eyelids using more energy with each blink.

Bllllllllllliiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnkkk…

Oh that one felt strange, like it was pulling your consciousness down as the darkness poured in behind your eyelids.

Blllllllllllllllllllllllllliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-

Your eyes can't focus. Your head feels like its orbiting your shoulders. You feel like you're being rolled and tossed by a thick caramel sea.

-iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnkkk…

The text on screen is in triplicate, all copies fighting for recognition in your foggy mind.

97%

The three screens dance across your vision.

98%

Your mind is swimming.

99%

Your feel yourself slipping.

100%

The screen flashes white.

You sit bolt upright.

Your mind is full of calm laced with apprehension…

No… not apprehension…

Anticipation…

Like a dog waiting to run.

Like a firework waiting to go off.

Singular,sharpened,focused.

Thiswasagony,whythewaiting?

Timewasdragging

Youcanfeelafrustration

Itiscracklinginthecornersofyourmind.

BeggingpleadingscreamingpleasepleasepleasepleasePLEASE

The screen wakes up.

Good drone.

Your heart fills with pride, with accomplishment, with validation. The crashing waves of the Anticipation quell and hush.

Drone. [Action]: Stand.

You stand. You didn't even think about standing. You just stood. Like the white noise of your mind peeled away to the arrow of the words on your screen. Like you always have been standing, like it was your purpose to stand.

Good drone.

Fuck that felt good, you thought, but that sudden bursting forth of that thought was quickly hushed by the Anticipation.

Drone. [Action]: Strip.

You were naked. Like you were supposed to be naked. Like it was your natural state. That it was right that you weren't wearing anything.

Good drone.

Your body tries to convulse with the pleasure that courses through it, but you weren't told you could.

Preliminary Test: Complete

The Anticipation purred hungrily.

Drone. [Action]: Enter Standby.

…

The layers of your consciousness slide back into position.

You gather your bearings.

Your chest is heaving; your heart, racing.

The chill of cool night's air catches your attention, as the warmth of the clothes pooled at your feet begins to dissipate.

You go to react with the shock that you were just stood naked in front of your PC, but something in your mind reaches for that emotion and coddles it before it can go any further.

A calm settles on your thoughts like morning dew, that what happened was pleasant, and that you really should get going to bed.

You glance at the monitor one last time, and then at the PC next to it; the memories of botched updates passed surfacing again.

A single LED turning off informs you that your computer has gone to bed too.

With a contended sigh, you gather your clothes and make your way to your bed, each step soothing your body and welcoming back that warm blanket of sleep.

Cocooned in your blanket, head on your pillow, you can't help but softly smile as sleep pulls you in.

Did you enjoy? Here's my ko-fi if you fancy leaving a tip or want to talk about being transformed yourself!~

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Championship love

Heyy guys, I hope you enjoy this Max one-shot inspired by him winning the championship for the fourth time !!

If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.

You've been by Max's side for as long as you can remember. Teenagers with wild dreams and even wilder hearts, you both grew up together—through the awkward phases, the endless karting weekends, and the late-night phone calls where he shared his hopes of making it big in Formula 1. And he did. You’ve celebrated every step of his journey, but nothing compares to how you’ve marked each of his world championships together.

2011: The first time Max won the championship, it felt surreal. You were in Abu Dhabi, tears streaming down your face as he crossed the finish line and screamed over the radio. That night, back in the hotel room, it was just the two of you. Max was exhausted but glowing with pride, the trophy on the bedside table. He pulled you into his lap and kissed you like it was the first time, whispering, “This is just the beginning.”

2022: His second championship was no less thrilling. Max insisted on celebrating at home in Monaco, just the two of you again. He cooked you dinner—well, tried to. Half-burnt pasta and wine turned into laughter and slow dancing in the kitchen. He held you close, murmuring, “I couldn’t have done this without you.” You knew he meant it.

2023: The third title was chaotic—Sprint race in Qatar. But later that night, back at the motorhome, Max pulled you aside. His team was celebrating loudly in the background, but his focus was entirely on you. “Three-time world champion,” he said, smirking. “But being yours is still my favorite title.”

And now, here you are in Las Vegas. Max’s fourth championship.

The moment he crosses the line, you can barely hear the roar of the crowd over your own cheering. Your chest swells with pride as the fireworks explode over the track. It feels like a culmination of everything you’ve built together—his hard work, your unwavering support, and the love that’s only grown stronger with time.

Later that night, the team throws a party in one of the grand casinos. The celebration is lavish, the energy electric, but Max never lets go of your hand. Every so often, he leans down to kiss your temple or whispers something only for you to hear. He’s glowing, but there’s something else in his eyes—a secret, maybe, or anticipation.

Hours later, he whisks you away from the crowd, leading you to the rooftop of your hotel. The view is breathtaking—Las Vegas glittering like a sea of stars, a warm breeze wrapping around you both. You laugh, spinning to face him. “What are we doing up here?”

Max looks at you, his blue eyes soft and steady. He takes your hands in his, thumbs brushing over your knuckles. “I wanted to end this night with just us,” he says. “Like we always do.”

Your heart swells. “You’re getting sentimental, Verstappen.”

He chuckles but doesn’t look away. “I have a good reason.”

Before you can ask what he means, Max drops to one knee.

Time stops.

Your breath catches as he pulls a small velvet box from his pocket. “You’ve been with me through everything—every win, every loss, every moment in between. I can’t imagine doing this without you. I don’t want to do this without you.” He opens the box, revealing a stunning ring that glitters even brighter than the city lights. “Will you marry me?”

Tears blur your vision as you nod frantically, a smile breaking across your face. “Yes,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “Of course, yes.”

Max stands, slipping the ring onto your finger before pulling you into his arms. The kiss you share feels like every dream you’ve ever had coming true.

“You just made this the best championship celebration ever,” you say against his lips.

He grins, pressing his forehead to yours. “I think this one’s my favorite too.”

Under the Vegas sky, with the world at your feet, you know this moment is just the beginning of a lifetime of celebrations—together.

[riordanness]

sparks fly — [p.jackson]

pairing: percy jackson x reader

wordcount: 1.0K

warnings: percy is hot

“Wait,” I hold up both hands and stare in delight at my half-sister. “Beckendorf actually asked you?”

“Yes!” Silena is a flushing mess, sitting cross legged on her bunk as our whole cabin is getting ready for breakfast.

There’s a short round of squeals, and I skip over and sit beside her, throwing a playful arm over her shoulder.

“I’m so glad for you,” I say, a pleased little smile on my face. Charles Beckendorf, or just Beckendorf, as we all called him, had been the object of Silena’s crush for ages. Like, long enough to be frustratingly annoying. But it seems the boy had finally caught on, as he’d just asked her last night to attend the Fourth of July fireworks show on the beach with him. Oh, and by the way, that’s like the biggest dating event of the year at Camp.

“Thanks, girl.” Silena smiles, and then nudges me knowingly. “Has he asked you yet?”

“Huh?” I play innocent. “Who?”

“Percy Jackson,” everyone choruses. Okay, maybe I’m not the subtlest when it comes to liking someone. Everyone knows about it. Except, apparently, Percy.

“No,” I say, shrugging. “He probably won’t.”

“Girl, then you ask him.” Lacy throws a pillow at me, which I catch and throw back. She laughs when it hits her and falls to the ground.

“I am not doing that,” I say indignantly.

“Why not?” Delia chirps up. “Girls can do the asking, that’s not even weird these days.”

“I know that,” I argue. “I just like the traditional ways. Boys ask.”

Delia shrugs. “Okay, whatever. Just don’t be surprised if you end up going to the fireworks alone.”

I don’t answer, just shrug on my pink jacket and head to the dining hall for breakfast.

I wasn’t surprised when Percy ended up finding me later that morning, sitting on the canoe lake pier and gazing out into the sparkling water.

“Hey, you,” he says easily, swinging himself down to sit beside me, our legs dangling. I notice that we’re both wearing our converse today. No surprise there in my case; I’m always wearing mine. They’re old and battered and doodled on to death, but they’re my comfort shoes. Percy’s are blue, naturally, and slightly less worn out.

“Hey,” I say back, nudging my best friend’s shoulder good-naturedly. “Where were you at breakfast? Didn’t see you.”

Percy shrugs, his sea green eyes fixed solidly on the water. His eyes are just as sparkly as it is.

“Yeah, sorry, I, um. Slept in.” Percy runs his hand through his dark hair, messing it up even more than it already was.

I raise an eyebrow. “Slept in? Dude. Come on, what’s really up?”

Percy kind of half laughs. “Okay, yeah. I wasn’t asleep. I didn’t sleep much at all last night, actually. I was… thinking about something.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I wait, but Percy doesn’t seem to wait to elaborate. “Cool. Well, anyway, the fireworks are tonight.”

“You excited?”

“Of course I am excited,” I say, giving him a smile. “I love the fireworks show. And, Nyssa told me it’s their best display yet this year. I can’t wait.”

Percy is quiet, his gaze still lingering on the water. “Hey, y/n?”

“Mm?” I reply, my gaze still lingering on him, as it always seems to.

“Are you going with anyone tonight?”

I hesitate, my heart pounding. “You mean like on a date?”

“Yeah,” Percy says, his voice hushed. He finally meets my eyes.

“No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “Not yet.”

Percy stares at me for a second, seemingly trying to form the words. Gods, he’s such an awkward idiot.

Finally, he pushes out a stumbling, “Will you go with me?”

“Yes,” I say immediately. “Absolutely, yes.”

“Yeah?” Percy looks surprised, which makes me laugh.

“Yes,” I repeat, reaching over and lacing our fingers together. “I wouldn’t want to go with anyone else.”

Percy half smiles, and half laughs, and says, “And here I was, all scared and nervous about asking you.”

I nudge him playfully, squeezing his hand. “Don’t be silly.”

There are campers everywhere, on picnic blankets and deck chairs and towels, or just simply sitting on the sand. Most people are paired off in couples, and for the first year of my life, so am I.

Percy runs over to me, a stupid grin on his face. His dark hair is messy and windswept, like he’s been running on the beach for hours.

“Hey, you,” he says, arriving at my side, a little breathless. He laces his fingers easily through mine, and I’d be lying if I said my heart didn’t speed up, the heat spreading to my cheeks.

“Hi,” I say back, suddenly shy in his presence. Which is ridiculous. We’ve been the bestest of friends for years, why am I suddenly nervous now?

I know why.

It’s because I’m hyper aware of the fact that before this moment, I’ve never had to worry about the fact that any second, Percy might kiss me.

“Come on.” He tugs on my arm gently, leading me through the crowd, until we reach a blue and white checked picnic blanket. Percy has brought strawberries, chocolate, and a six pack of Coke cans. I turn, and his glittering sea green eyes are staring into mine, a little nervous.

“Is it okay?” he asks softly. “I’ve never taken anyone on a date before.”

My heart swells with love and gratitude and pure, pure joy. “Percy, gods, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

His face breaks into the biggest smile, and I swear, he’s never looked more attractive than right now.

“Gods, I could kiss you right now,” he says, then flushes awkwardly. “I—I mean—“

“Do it,” I whisper, cutting him off.

“Huh?” Percy looks at me, mostly confused.

“Kiss me,” I reply, my heart beating fast. Where is all this bravery coming from? Inside, I’m a nervous mess of emotions.

“Okay.” Percy grins, and doesn’t hesitate to pull me towards him, his mouth on mine without a second to lose.

Would it be incredibly cliché to say that sparks flew as we kissed? Yes, it would be. But it’s true. Literally. Because at that exact second, the fireworks display began, explosions of gorgeous colours lighting up the sky around him, so my first kiss was kind of insanely unforgettable.

[yuellii]

catch me if you can, salvatore

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 there are quite obvious red flags in your relationship, and they’re all from him

feat. neuvillette, zhongli, pierro ( separately )

note. reader’s gender unspecified, the old men of genshin ( i’m so sorry ), established toxic marriages given the prompt, possible fontaine lore inconsistencies

> [part one] . part two

NEUVILLETTE. always too serious

Your bedroom was a space sadly quieter than even the outdoors. For at least on your doorstep, the sounds of crickets were heard, the mechanical noises of distant construction were there—but here, there was not even a sound.

Perhaps you were too sensitive. But you also thought a spouse had every right to feel love and respect from their husband, and you felt none of that. The suffocation of this Fontaine air only brought up an even more suffocating man, and you fear you may lose your breath before even coming to your senses.

“You’re up late.” He stood right behind you at the opening of the balcony. Of course, you didn’t hear him coming from inside that silent fortress of a household. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

His words—you wish he didn’t say them, for they’ll unwillingly fill your thoughts with the idea that he cares. But sometimes ( or perhaps most ), you were too foolish to counteract that.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you simply said, continuing to stare out into the blue aura of the nation. A technicolor world made of music and machine—but unfortunately, your husband was only like a machine. “Was so caught up awake, completely immersed by your current court performance,” you yawned sarcastically.

He grumbled, “It’s a court hearing, not a silly performance.” Then, he joined you at the bar of the balcony, perhaps far too distanced from you for your liking. He was never next to you; always paces away just light tonight. “And I’ve been telling you, I can sign you up as a spectator or part of the jury.”

You almost snarled after he failed to pick up your sarcasm. “I’d rather die before you did that,” you scoffed. “Me? Sitting in that stuffy courthouse whilst you talk for hours? If it were my way, Her Grace would’ve had her way a long time ago. Perhaps you can learn from her, sometime. It can loosen you up for once.” He turned to glare at you.

“Oh, spare me the levity.” From the way he suddenly straightened his back, presenting himself a towering height over you, you knew you were about to be scolded. “If you cannot take the Court of Fontaine for what it is instead of a laughing stock, than perhaps you should be the next one on a treason hearing for exile.”

Your stomach dropped. As inconceivable as it sounded, you wouldn’t put it past him with how booming his tone was. And… coming from your own husband… “I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful, good Monsieur.” To very man that wore your wedding band. “But spare me one truth…”

“Right now, are you my husband, or are you the Chief Justice?”

You immediately regretted the question once his eyes looked ready to kill.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

ZHONGLI. overprotective

Sunrise, Midday, Sunset, Midnight.

You could only see the light from the cold glass of your window, or the freshest air from your porch. Sometimes the fresh sea breeze of the harbor, but that was more of a rarity.

You loved Liyue Harbor; so did your husband. Living in Jueyun Karst was safe, sure, but it was boring. And maybe, there was a time that you loved the harbor so much during Lantern Rite—a time where lanterns graced the sky and fireworks were heard all the way from your small home in Minlin. So much, in fact, you almost felt like Rapunzel in those fairytale books when she leaped out of the comforts of her tower to chase the lights.

And even moreso like Rapunzel when Zhongli saw you at the harbor with a look of horror on his face, not caring of the genuine smile you carried before dragging you away by the wrist. Perhaps it was then that you felt more like his scolded child than his ‘beloved’ spouse.

Could he not see the light in your eyes as you pranced around the harbor? Could he not understand how boring it was to be cooped up in the mountains for your ‘safety’? It sucked, it really did. And it sucked even more once you tasted freedom at the harbor, once you met people that would never shackle down your life to never experience the many joys that Liyue had to offer.

“Am I your partner, or your controlled child?!” you seethed once he dragged you back inside the house.

“I am simply bringing you back after you failed to listen to me,” Zhongli calmly stated. Calm, he was also so calm, emotions be damned. “I told you not to go to the harbor, especially on your own. Have I told you what happened before through the tale of Osial?”

You coughed out in exasperation. “You’re acting like this during a festival?” There was a clear betrayal in your voice—it was truly something he had been hiding from you all this time. “You’re just going to let me be locked up in here, because you think a festival is unsafe?”

“It’s for your protection.”

“‘Protection’, give me a break, Zhongli.” You were near desperate to go back, like once you got an inch of freedom, you suddenly needed it all—but perhaps he only saw you like a partner who needs to be more controlled. “I married you for all your adventurous tales,” you reasoned. “You sounded much more excitingly interesting than you actually are, I fear.”

He continued to stare at you, face hardening into something of a glare like a parent disciplining a child. You hated it. You hated this, you hated him. And as he walked back out with the door locked by some force, you could only wonder how you married a man so cruel.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

PIERRO. a master manipulator

“You know I love you.”

The large pads of his fingers massaged coarsely through your hair at the very top of your head, brushing the your scalp almost delicately like a doll.

“Right?”

It felt almost like Hell itself to feel flutters in your stomach from the way the deep mess of his voice resounded in your ears. It was akin to signing a contract with the devil, like this feeling of infatuation was a demon’s sickly trick. “I do.”

He hummed in contentment. Not like you pleased him with your answer, but like you answered him correctly, as if this some sort of test where there was only one right answer.

He had you seated down on his lap, and it still made you feel like a doll. But there was an uncertainty in it—one that made you question if you should be feeling used and disgusted, or in love with being pampered by your husband like this.

You married a leading man of the most dangerous elites. Perhaps the fluttering feelings pulling at your heart were more of a warning sign than something good, but you couldn’t help it when he made you feel so special. Special words, special treatment—so painfully addicting and so obvious to win your favor for your hand in marriage.

“When the time comes,” he whispered once more, as if speaking the holy words only pure lovers could dare to hear, “would you die for me?”

You should’ve know this was coming, truly. It should’ve been clear the moment he courted you, and painfully obvious once he wanted to wed you. A puppet he could control at his will, someone who looked so innocent compared to the dangerous looks of the Fatui—a person easily stricken by love and compliments, easily you.

But he captured your heart in a way that was devouring, like your love was swallowed into a black hold the moment you showed any weakness. He trapped you in a web you could not escape once pulled in, and you feared you were truly doomed from the start. But that was how the leader of the Harbingers worked; and that was how you gave up your life.

“Yes, I would.”