#and after a day I'm realizing just how much i open it randomly

[wxndswept]

Oh god, I'm becoming one of those brain-dead doom scrollers, but with Hoyo/Type Moon girls, Vtubers, and Clive Rosfield

[starmy-sky]

Paws and Promises

Pairing: CEO!Lee Know x Fem!Reader

Summary: You fiance has not once shown up to your wedding planning dates, in fact, he barely shows up at all. After ten months of being engaged and still no wedding or even solid plans for the ceremony, you seek comfort by adopting a cat that randomly showed up on your porch the same day Minho was supposed to go on a business trip.

Or... Minho gets karma for being a bad fiance by being turned into a cat.

Tags: Angst to Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Crying, Engaged!AU, Break Up, Negligence, Longing, Cat!Lee Know

Word Count: 4.1K (Masterlist)

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"How long is the trip again?"

"Two weeks, Y/N."

"So I should schedule our wedding planner interviews by the third week?" You try to catch his eyes, but they were everywhere but on you. It's been like that for a while.

Minho busies himself packing a suitcase, letting out a half-minded hum. "Why can't you schedule it any other day? You're available."

Because you want it to be with him. You wanted to think of the motif with him, the flowers, the decorations, the guests, the cake flavor, the venue, the rings. It should be about you and him, not just you.

But... perhaps you're being too sentimental. You look at Minho now as the successful CEO he became from all his hardwork, he's serious, strategic, stoic. Unlike the Minho you met in your senior year of high school, the one that was silly, loud, and cheeky, sneakily slipping into your heart by acting both nonchalant while seemingly never getting enough of your attention.

Almost like a cat.

Maybe the Minho now isn't the type to want to be involved in menial things like planning the wedding, in fact, it seems as if he has no plans to be wed anytime at all, he's much too busy now.

You look down at your ring, a glimmering diamond adorned it while the metal that wraps around your finger forms into swoops that border the diamond. It's very beautiful, though he never explained to you why he chose that design, you always find yourself admiring the ring, a symbol of a future with him.

You smiled, trying to ease your feelings as you always do. "I'll keep that in mind." You answered, leaving the conversation to die once again.

...

It rained the day he left for the business trip, the sky mirroring your feelings of sorrow as you're reminded that he'll probably be a ghost the whole two weeks.

He's already pretty elusive when he's there, staying at the office late and going in early in the morning. You've always been thankful for him, providing for you even before you got engaged and letting you quit your less than ideal office job when he did propose.

Your thoughts were cut off when rough scratching rings from the door, panicked mews accompanying them as you rush to open.

A tuxedo cat barges into the house as if it lived there, grumbling in annoyance as it pounces on the rug to dry itself from the rain.

As it does so, it starts to screech at you. "Y/N, Y/N, it's me! I'm Minho, I have no idea what happened, but you need to call an ambulance or a vet, or even a wizard!"

"Honey, honey, it's okay, you're safe here..."

"No the hell it's not okay! I got turned into a cat!"

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you." You gently shush the cat, stepping closer inch by inch.

"Can't you understand me?!"

"Aww, I wish I can understand what you're meowing about, honey."

"...I'm doomed."

It was supposed to be a normal day for Minho, an unluckly, but albeit normal day. As he's about to leave for the airport from the office, he realized he forgot some documents at home.

He decided to leave his luggage in his office and drive back home to get the documents. As luck would have it, his car breaks down in the middle of the rain. He curses the sky as he opens the door to check if there's any way to get home, only for lightning to strike accompanied by blinding light.

The next second he opens his eyes, he had paws and whiskers and he was only a few inches off the ground.

Scared, he runs home as fast as he could, clawing at your door and now he's here, utterly doomed.

...

It's been five days and Lino, the name you have the cat, had no intention of going back outside. In fact, he struts around the place like he knows it by heart.

His relentless meows have not gone away either, at least once an hour he sits by your side or jumps to stand face to face with you and frantically meow his heart out, almost like he's desperately trying to make you understand him.

You just sum it up that maybe he's just a really active and talkative cat, and you continue to indulge him by nodding and smiling and scratching behind his ears and chin.

Minho puffs up frustrated sighs everytime.

"Magic exists and I was cursed to turn into a cat, Y/N!"

"Lino, you're demanding more food? You just cleaned out your whole bowl 20 minutes ago." You giggled as the cat seemed to stomp at your reply.

"You didn't put enough and you know I have a big appetite. Oh, and you have to find out how turn me back into a human!"

"Aww, my little kitty is upset, you want some pets?" You scooped up the grumpy cat and placed him on your lap on the couch.

"No, I don't want pets, Y/N! Can't you see that this is your fiancé in front of you?"

He swears it was the cat side of him that immediately calmed down and leaned into you touch when you started to scratch his chin. And it was definitely that same side that pawed at your hand when you stopped.

As his eyes slowly closed in content, a picture frame on the side table caught his attention. It was a picture of you and him.

Minho sits up immediately and leaps to the picture. "Here, here!" He points at the picture of himself and then his cat body.

You stand in shock, looking at the picture of you and your fiance. "You're right, Lino..." Minho felt like he could leap in joy at your response.

"I should call him... it's been almost a week since we last spoke."

He meows in protest, but it was too late as you already went ahead and grabbed your phone.

Minho remembers that he left his luggage and phone in his office when he drove back home to get some of the documents he forgot. His office was completly inaccessible to anyone when he's away and his phone was in silent mode.

Of course no one was gonna answer you. But you didn't know that. Minho stares at you in frustration first, still not being able to effectively communicate with you.

But as he looks up at you again, the faint expression of excitement replaced with slow defeat as you call goes to voicemail, his eyes soften from that of annoyance to... he doesn't know.

But he doesn't like that look on your beautiful face.

"Hey, my love, just calling in to check on you. I'm sure you must be busy, but I want you to know that I really miss you, okay?" Despite your mood shifting when he didn't answer, you tried to keep your voice happy, unaware of the knowing look from the cat beside you.

He listens intently at your words. "Take care of yourself and don't skip on sleep or meals. Okay, I love you... c-call me when you can."

You end your message, looking back at the cat with a smile that held back the emotion in your eyes. "Well, that could've have gone better."

"He's busy, you know? And every second of his day is important." You sigh, leaning into the couch cushions and closing your eyes. "Can't expect him to be thinking of me too when he's already got so much on his mind."

Minho thinks he could spare a call and maybe a few texts, just so he doesn't ever get to see that solemn look on your face.

He gets back up on your lap, cuddling into your stomach, and for the first time since he came in, he stays quiet, purring softly as if to comfort you.

You look down at him and smile, "Thank you, honey, I needed that."

...

Your heart never rests, and everyday you did the same thing, calling him and never getting answered, leaving a voice message that never seems to be heard. Minho sticks by your side each time, and your glad that you have a companion that cuddles up to after each disappointing call.

His little cat heart begins to ache a bit. He shouldn't have gotten used to it, to shrugging off your missed calls, to replying late to your messages, to not being there. Not when your lips turn into a frown that he had the privilege of usually never seeing before because he actually made you happy back then.

He made you happy back then...

But now? He can't even see what he makes you feel because he's never there.

And when he's here... he's a stinking cat!

You wipe your tears before they make it past your cheeks, looking at the lack of any reply on your phone. The ring on your finger glimmers beside your phone, reminding you of the promise of marriage that never seems to come.

Minho's cat eyes find the same ring, and a guilty feeling consumes him. That ring, it looks out of place on you finger, and he knows why.

...

Two weeks.

He's supposed to be home today.

Yet still no reply.

Lino has calmed down now, no more meowing fit and screaming in your face or trying to make you understand, though he still does have some weird behavior like using the toilet instead of the cat litter you bought him, tucking himself next to you in bed like a human, going into Minho's office and just staring at the papers on his desk. And for a cat, he's awfully afraid of heights.

No matter how much of an odd cat he is, you have to admit that without him, you would have been in a depressive spiral trying to contact Minho. You've been left hanging for so long that you actually started to get worried that something may have happened to him.

"I should call his assistant, right? Something might have happened and he couldn't contact me." The cat bounced from his loaf position, walking eagerly to you.

"That's a great idea! Then they'll tell you that I didn't make it to my trip and I'm missing."

"Okay, here I go." The phone rings and soon his assitant picks up.

"Hello, you are calling Lee Corp. How may I help you?"

"Hi, I was just wondering if there's any news on Minho over there. If he's okay and whatnot."

"Oh." The voice at the other line seem to turn snarky as she realizes who you are. "Ms. Y/N, if Mr. Lee is not responding to you, then he must be very busy and has no time to check his phone."

Minho's head turns, he's never heard his assistant speak in such a condescending voice, especially not to his fiancé.

"There's no need to worry, Ms. Y/N, the team and I take good care of him, so your worry is not needed. I'm sure Mr. Lee is fine, and you should not bother contacting him because it might interfere with his important business."

Minho leaps to you lap, grumbling and hissing at your phone speaker. "What the hell are you saying?"

"Wait... can you call him for me? I just need to talk to him..." You pleaded, but you're met with a scoff.

"Ms. Y/N, there's no need for a call, Mr. Lee will be home soon and you can continue to cling to him as you please." The assistant hangs up at that, making you stare at your phone in disbelief.

Minho too was stunned by the sheer unprofessionalism of his assistant, he wishes he could have said something to defend you, to let you know that he won't let her speak to you like that.

Though for you, that call was a shot to your heart more than anything, inflating your insecurities as you stare at your reflection on the screen.

He doesn't need you, you are only a bother to him, you cling to him while he tries to move forward. Maybe that's why he's so miserable in your relationship.

Tears start to quietly fall from your eyes as you let your thoughts take over you. Minho immediately paws at your face, but you avoid it, hugging your legs and crying into your knees, keeping yourself hidden from his gaze.

You feel his paws at your side, his body trying to snuggle closer to you, but no matter how much you try to appreciate it, no amount of comfort can make you feel better right now.

...

It was another rainy night, still no sign of Minho despite him supposedly coming home today.

You prepared Lino's dinner, but he seemed far too anxious to eat.

He can't eat when he sees you constantly looking at your phone with a deep thought, typing up something only to delete it later.

He wonders what could be in your mind, you might be mad at him, he understands. He also wonders if he's ever gonna turn back to human, or is he just forced to watch as you begin to believe that he has left you with no explanation.

Your phone starts to ring, and he immediately bolts to your side on the kitchen counter.

You're calling him again, and he hates that he can't answer, that he can't make up some excuse so you don't have to believe that he's ignoring you on purpose.

Unsurprisingly, it goes to voicemail. You sigh heavily, as if bracing yourself to let it all out on a recording that you're not even sure he's gonna listen to. He does the same, his heart pounding at what you could possibly say to him.

"Hey, Minho, I don't know if you're getting my messages, if you are, I don't even know if you bother to listen to them."

"I wanted to talk to you about us, and what I've been feeling."

Minho's eyes never falter from your dishearted figure.

"I haven't heard from you this entire two weeks, and honestly, I haven't heard much this past few months."

"I know, I'm sorry, my love."

"And I know it's unfair to demand your attention when you're already so busy, but I... I-I just wanted to see you more, and for you to see me too." You try to contain your sobs, hoping to let out more words before your an incoherent mess.

"You deserve my attention, and so much more."

"I have loved you since we were in high school, and more and more every single day after that."

"I feel the same way..."

"But maybe your love isn't the same as mine anymore. Maybe you grew tired."

"Please don't say that..."

"A-And that's why I feel like I should let you go."

"Please don't let me go..."

"I want you to be happy, Minho, to find someone that you can love wholeheartedly. To love your past, present, and make your future beautiful."

"That's you, Y/N."

"Please know that I do still love you and-" *beep*

*Voicemail has exceeded the time limit.*

"God I hate you too..."

Minho looks up at you, his cat eyes glossy. He wishes for you to keep going, to let it out and let him hear all of his wrongdoings.

"I hate you for promising me that I'll be marrying the love of my life, I hate you for ignoring me when all I wanted was to love you, I hate you for taking away the Minho I fell in love with for a decade. I hate you for making me love you no matter how much it hurts me."

Your phone lays flat on the counter, catching your tears as you cry your message into the air.

"I just wish you're here right now... so you would know how much it hurts."

"I'm here..." He meows at your sorrow, head down in shame.

The sound of metal hitting marble catches his ear, and in the next second he sees your figure returning to your room, while beside him, your ring wobbles slightly before it lands flatly right in front of his face.

...

It took two hours before the sobs from your room has calmed down, two hours before the storm outside picked up to accompany thunder. Two hours and he stays planted in his place.

Minho silently stared at the ring on the counter, his eyes trained on it as if it was a threat. He lays on the counter semi-loaf, paws under his chin as he stares unblinking at the ring.

Stupid ring. Ugly, meaningless, basic. That's what he thinks of it.

You derserve better, not just the first thing he saw when he went into the jewelry store. He got a random ring, proposed to you on a random day, and treated it like it meant nothing.

He did it because he was scared, he saw the way you started looking so down months ago, he saw how you no longer lit up the way you did around him, he saw the space between you expanding and he couldn't have that.

He was scared to lose you, so he proposed. And the way you lit up again ten times brighter brought him a sense of security.

Candles eventually burn out and he saw that even after getting a ring, you never escaped the emptiness that haunted your relationship.

It's his fault, for working himself to death, for acting like his work was his life, for thinking that one gesture is all it takes to make you happy again when all you ever wanted was him.

You deserve better, a better ring, a better fiancé.

Minho whimpers slightly, tears clouding his dilated eyes. He doesn't blink them away, he just stares at the ring as if it led to all of his mishaps.

He designs a ring in his mind, one that isn't just a band with an expensive diamond stuck to it, one with meaning, with designs that capture you and him. He imagines giving it to you on the anniversary of when you agreed to be his girlfriend, under twinkling stars and surrounded by fireflies, on the hill he took you to have a chilly night picnic. You would scream yes and he would almost roll down the hill in full excitement.

Instead he proposed in your bedroom while you were getting ready for bed. You still cried, you still smiled so happily and kissed him in fervor. He knows that no matter what, you would be grateful, but he beats himself up for not even making an effort.

And now you're slipping away...

You emerge from the bedroom, still with bloodshot eyes, but no longer hiccuping sobs. "Lino, still didn't eat, honey?" You scratch under his ear, and only then did he close his eyes to lean in to your touch.

Minho looks up at you, "I love you, Y/N..." He mutters the most heartfelt meows you've ever heard from a cat. It's a shame you can't understand him.

You sigh, seeing from the still full cat bowl that the cat did not really feel like eating. You slowly lift him off the counter, craddling him in your arms. "How about we just go to bed now and then you can have a big breakfast?"

He hums as he snuggles into your embrace, and you smile at how he seems to really understand you. His heart aches at how beautiful your heart is, how it's always been, because he feels as if he doesn't deserve to be in your arms.

You lay in bed, placing him on top of your chest. He loafs on you, and you both quietly stare at each other.

"Tomorrow, we're gonna go to my mom's house. And we're gonna stay there for a while..." He sees a packed suitcase placed by the closet, the closet just open enough for him to see the lack of your clothes in there.

He also notices the missing items around the room that you would normally keep in there own places. Other than your presence, you completly wiped the room of you.

"Don't go..." He gently meows at you, eyes once again filling with tears.

"Are you crying, honey?" You asked worriedly, knowing you're not getting a response. "Why are your eyes so sad, my sweet kitty?" You pet him gently, heart aching at the sight of the glossy eyed cat.

"Don't leave me..."

You think that maybe he's attched to your home and he doesn't want to leave. "It's okay, honey, you'll always be with me."

"I should've been... I should always be with you..."

His meows sounded like painful whispers, eluding to a feeling you can't quite understand from him. You press a kiss on his nose, comforting the seemingly distressed cat.

Thundet roars outside, and a flash of light appears to blind the entire room.

"Don't leave me..."

You breathe heavily, your eyes wide.

"Minho?"

Lino the cat was gone and suddenly it was Minho on top of you, legs in between yours while his face hides in the crook of your neck. You feel his tears warm on your skin as he exhales sobs against you.

He expects you to push him off, to berate him and leave right now, he clings on tightly just in case.

But instead, he feels one hand brushing through his hair and another soothing his back. "There there, my love, it's okay..."

And because it's you saying it, he believes it.

...

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"The lightning turned me into a cat and I was trying to tell you for two weeks but you couldn't understand me." Minho was tucked under the blanket after changing from his suit to his nightwear, looking at you with boba eyes as you sit on the edge of the bed.

"So you're Lino?" He nods at your question.

Your heart drops, he has seen you moping and hurting and even breaking down. "That's why you weren't answering my calls?" He nods again.

"I'm sorry, Y/N..." He lifts his hand from beneath the blanket to hold your hand. "Not just about these two weeks, but every single day I made you feel neglected. We promised each other that we'd always be there, and I got so used to you always being here when I come home, I forgot to be here for you when I am home. I was consumed by work, by always trying to be on top, but I forgot that all of this... was for us, for my dream future with you."

Tears stain both of your cheeks, and though Minho was never fond of talking about feelings or getting too serious, he finds that talking to you and you finally understanding him was a huge privilege.

"Minho... I dreamed everyday of our future, and I can't imagine myself still being here while you work yourself to death and-"

"I know, and I won't do that, not anymore. Not when my favorite person is always home waiting for me. I can't imagine a future without you, Y/N, you're all I've ever loved about life..." He sits up, caressing your hand with both of his, feeling your fingers.

"I-I'm sorry I took off the ring, Minho..."

"No... I should be sorry, for giving you a crappy ring in a crappy proposal..." He sighs, remembering the lack of thought in a supposedly meaningful event.

"I was crying happy tears that night..."

"But you deserve better, and I need to deserve you again, if you would have me."

You smile slightly. "I want to have you... but maybe not with a ring right now..."

He nods frantically. "I'll take that, besides, I need more months to plan my next proposal." You giggled as he wipes away the last of your tears. "For now... let me focus on spending more time with you, like we used to.

"I'd like that..." You reply, right as he stomach grumbles, signaling his hunger. "I told you to eat, Lino."

Minho chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder. "Can we eat now?"

You hum, leading him out of the bed and into the kitchen.

What you didn't expect was a tuxedo cat on your kitchen counter, the engagement ring in its mouth as it looks surprised at you two.

It hurried to escape through the slightly ajar back door. "What was that?" You stood in shock, looking at the window to see that the cat has jumped the fence.

"Maybe it was for the best. I already have a ring idea in my mind, anyway."

Seven months later, he brought you to the hill, just as he imagined, got down on one knee and proposed to you with a ring with diamonds placed in the shape of a cat's paw.

And it took another five months to plan the wedding because it turns out he was a lot more particular than you were gonna be.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Taglists (SFW): @bleuuujpg @seungpuppymongmong @princesskrystix @aquariusscollection @chims-dimple @norabugz @diekleinesuesse @like-diamondsinthesky @isadd666 @btch8008s @geni-627 @purplelady85 @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @chanchansgirly @emilyywhyy @veronica123

[d1xonss]

hii queen! i really think that after daryl got together with his girlfriend he would nonstop reffer to her as m'girl or "mah woman" to everyone who doesnt know that they are together and act so nonchalant about it, even tho he randomly just mention her in a random conversation ( i imagine him doing that after the woodbury people got into the prison and he dont want any of them crushing on his girl), so if you have time you think you could write something like this? sorry if its too long, i love your writtings🥰

My Girl

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 4 (ish)

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Fluff

✧ Word Count : 2.3k

AN ~ Overprotective Daryl is one of my favs! I love the idea of him calling his significant other "my girl" I think it's too adorable. Thank you so much for the request and the sweetest support! I just recently hit a pretty big milestone in followers so I just wanted to take a moment and thank anyone who has made time to read, like, comment, etc on any of my content. It means the absolute world to me that I'm able to write things that others enjoy so much, and I appreciate all of you with my entire heart!<3 xoxo

It wasn’t everyday you got the chance to meet new people after the world abruptly ended. It was a miracle that you even found any kind of people that you could trust anymore. But as it turns out, your found family grew to be the people you could count on for anything, the one blessing this new world had to offer. You were thankful for them every day.

For quite some time it was just you and that small group for months, from Atlanta, to Hershel’s farm, to the prison where your newfound home was formed. In hindsight you were a little weary to move into such an unusual place, but as it turns out, it grew to be one of the best things that had ever happened to you. Offering much more room and sanctuary, safety from the outside dangers. And after the war with the Governor, the growth only continued from there as a community blossomed.

The people from Woodbury had moved in just after the chaos had settled down, Rick and the rest welcoming them with open arms. But still, even after a couple months, the adjustment of having so many people around constantly was something to get used to. On one hand, you were handling it better than anyone, you had always been more outgoing and friendly even after the apocalypse which was something to be admired. And on the other, Daryl remained the complete opposite. Not that it was much of a surprise though. 

You expected him to have his guard up again when it came to the newcomers, not fully trusting their intentions even though all they wanted was to come together. But more than anything, he was even more protective of you.

After all you were very pretty, so absolutely breathtaking that he couldn’t believe you had really chosen him in the first place. But you did. And he’d be damned if he let any of the newcomers around here get the chance to talk you up or try and flirt with you in any way. Maybe he was jealous, but that wasn’t some kind of groundbreaking discovery. Maybe he was a bit overprotective, although that was to be expected when it came to the people he cared about the most. However, there was also a slight chance of him being scared. Scared that if a more good looking and charming guy came into the picture, you would realize that they might be better for you than he ever could be. 

But he’d never admit that out loud of course. Instead, he referred to you in any way he possibly could.

“M’ bout to head in and talk to my girl.” 

“Nah, I got plans with my girl tonight.”

“My girl made it for me.”

Every single time without fail, he would use those exact words to describe you. You were surprised that people even still knew your name with how frequently Daryl was calling you some different term of endearment. At this rate you assumed the whole community knew of your relations with him with how often he brought you up. But apparently, you had assumed wrong.

It was yet another hot summer day in Georgia, but that didn’t stop the people around the prison from getting to work just as they had been assigned. As a way to help build this place up, Rick had plans set in stone of how to make this sanctuary more safe and livable considering the numbers that were now behind the fences day after day. Keeping them all busy with chores one could say, to help this place continue to run as smoothly as it had before.

Daryl was placed in the fields alongside a few other men, clearing out some space of where the new vegetable gardens would soon grow. The beating sun cascaded down onto them while the dirt that flew up from the ground stuck to any skin that was exposed, making the process a little more difficult. He huffed quietly with every swing of his shovel, his muscles flexing when he pulled the heavy dirt from the ground. He had a good rhythm down, his mind elsewhere as he focused on getting this done as fast as possible.

That was until he heard your name amongst the conversation happening just behind him.

“Man, I’ve been eyeing her since we got here.” a guy named Jared grunted, continuing to shovel some dirt into the pile off to the side whilst he chatted it up with his friends.

They all laughed in agreement to his statement, taking note of where you were outside hanging some laundry on the clothing line, too far away to hear what they were going on about. Daryl noticed how their eyes lingered on you, but he forced himself to turn away and continue the task at hand. He felt it was pointless to get riled up over a few meaningless words and stares when he needed to get this job done.

“I’ve noticed she sometimes serves the food at dinnertime. Maybe I should stay for seconds.” one of the other men said suggestively.

“Yeah, right!” another voice cackled, “Like you have the balls to do something like that.”

Scoff. “Hey, I could if I wanted to. But everytime she looks up with those damn doe eyes it drives me crazy, I clam up or something. And she knows what she’s doing too, she’s asking for it.”

Daryl’s jaw ticked when the topic of you continued to go on and on, almost as if he was completely invisible. Though he tried to stay calm, the annoyance in him bubbled up to the surface with every crude comment or suggestive hint each one of them threw.

Jared then chimed in once more, “I think I’m going to ask her out.”

A jumble of protests followed to which Daryl scoffed in disbelief to himself. Had he really not made it apparent enough that the two of you had been together for months?

“Hey! I’m the one who said something first, so I think I should have first dibs.” Jared announced before moving to dig again.

“Well, what’re you planning on doing?”

He chuckled, “I don’t know, maybe take her for a walk or something. Charm her socks off until she swoons and I can get lucky.”

It was at that point Daryl slammed the head of his shovel into the grass, capturing all of their attention with the way the noise echoed. They watched as he turned around and removed his bandana from his face, getting ready to be done for the day.

“I wouldn’t.” he grumbled lowly, shoving the piece of fabric into his back pocket.

The group of men all just looked at each other in confusion, seconds of deafening silence passing before one of them spoke up. “Uh…why?”

Daryl slowly stalked closer to them, his glare unwavering, “Cause if you keep talkin bout gettin lucky with my girl, I think we’re gonna have a problem.”

Jared’s eyes then widened in realization, feeling singled out as Daryl’s eyes were trained only to him as if he wasn’t scared or hesitant to beat the shit out of him. “Oh- oh shit man, I had no idea-”

“Now ya do,” Daryl interrupted him, getting closer to his face as he made his point crystal clear, “And if I ever see ya ogling her again, I’ll knock yer fuckin teeth to your throat.” he said, his tone low and warning.

The man bobbed his head up and down quickly, “Yep, got it.”

Daryl scoffed at how quickly he seemed to shrivel under his stare, before harshly knocking him back with his shoulder as he passed him to head up toward the prison.

The remainder of the day dragged on and on it seemed like. Daryl didn’t know if it was because he continued to stew in his own frustrations of what happened, or because of the fact that he hadn’t gotten to talk to you all day. He wasn’t sure; but it had to be a combination of both. So he just tried to keep himself busy until the sun went down. Working on his motorcycle that always needed fixing, keeping watch at the gates, basically anything else other than having to work with those pigs he witnessed earlier. He couldn’t manage to wrap his head around why they would talk about any woman like that, let alone you. It almost left him feeling sick.

Though eventually the hour grew late enough to where everyone was turning in for the night, heading back to their selected cellblocks to get some shut eye. You were already sat in bed curled up with a book in your lap, the warm glow of the lantern beside you just bright enough where you didn’t have to squint to read the words on the pages. Lost in the depths of the novel, you almost didn’t hear the familiar sound of clunking, heavy boots approaching your room. But when he pulled back the curtain to enter out of your peripheral vision, your attention was automatically diverted.

“Hey,” you said with a small smile, tucking your bookmark in place, “How was your day?”

Daryl shrugged a bit as he leaned down to untie his shoes, “Was fine. How was yers?”

“Good…it was good.” you nodded, a knowing expression crossing your face, “But you know, I did get some weird looks throughout the day.”

He paused his movements, looking up at you with a raise of his brow, “Looks?”

You nodded again, “Yeah. Almost like you wrote your name right across my forehead or something.”

To that he scoffed, realizing that you had somehow known of the small incident that occurred. Word did tend to spread fast around here but it’s not like it mattered much to him. He was just a little surprised the man was bold enough to have the whole place know of his threat by the time the day came to an end.

When he didn’t verbally respond, you spoke again, “You want to tell me why you apparently tried to kick some guy’s ass?”

He shrugged, “Just another day.” he brushed off simply, plopping down at the edge of the bed near your legs.

“Come on,” you prodded gently as you scooted closer to him, “Just tell me. It’s not like I’ll be upset…if anything, I’m proud.”

Daryl sighed deeply, knowing he couldn’t avoid the topic despite the fact that he didn’t want you to know the things that were said. He couldn’t help but want to protect you from everything. “Some guys were just talkin bout ya.”

His vague response left you confused, “Bad?”

“Just…disrespectful.” he answered, “I didn’t let it go on for long.”

You smiled a little, knowing exactly how he could be, “And what did you say?”

He shrugged, “Told him to stop talkin bout my girl. But you know…it was more threatenin the way I said it to him.” 

“Aw.” you cooed as you leaned forward to wrap your arms around him, sweetly kissing his cheek, “Defending my honor again, why am I not surprised?” your tone was playful.

Daryl grunted softly, his cheeks warming and a small smile growing despite his attempts to stop it. He couldn’t deny he liked your affection, even though it was something he was still getting used to. “Can’t help it. Yer too sweet for that bullshit.”

You smiled softly, a part of you loving how protective he could be, it just made you feel all the more special. Never in your life had you been given someone as important as him, someone who would walk to the ends of the earth if you had asked him to. Alongside the many other things you had received in this life, he was by far the best.

You noticed then how his eyes traveled all over your face, silently appreciating you in the orange light. His gaze then drifted down toward your lips as if drawn like a moth to a flame, before glancing back at your eyes, then your lips again.

A small laugh was pulled from you at his obvious request, "You don't always have to ask for permission to kiss me..." you whispered teasingly.

His hand came up to gently trace his thumb along the edge of your jaw, shaking his head slightly, "Wasn't askin." he murmured.

Before you could even react, his lips enveloped yours in a soft embrace, the taste and smell of tobacco on him filling your senses. But you didn't mind; it only made him all the more alluring.

The kiss lasted no longer than a few seconds, but when you pulled back for air, you couldn't help but mutter an, “I love you…”

Those words continued to make his heart flutter in his chest, every time you said that it made him feel incredibly special and valued. Although he still had trouble with saying it back, not being fully used to openly showing how deep his affections went for you, he still managed to prove it in some way. He leaned over to place another lingering kiss against your lips, briefly pulling back to rest his forehead against yours before standing up again to get changed for bed.

But the next morning, he managed to surprise you.

Usually he let you sleep in while he was up during the early hours of the day, gathering his selected weapons to head out for a hunt. Though before he could push himself to leave, he took one last glance back at you, seeing you were still half asleep and bundled under the blankets. He then took the extra minute to crouch down and brush some of the hair away from your forehead, leaving a small kiss there as he mumbled against your skin.

“Love you.” he spoke quietly before he stood back up and headed out of your shared room, hearing the same heavy footsteps echo down the stairs of the cellblock.

And though your eyes were closed, your lips curled into a smile as you let yourself fall back asleep. Feeling comforted in knowing that you were truly his.

~ Thanks for reading!

[nondelphic]

I'm too shy to post this not on anon, but I need you to know that your posts literally inspired me to start writing again.

I used to write almost everyday for 3 years, and then life happened, and then I stopped for about 8. Got the itch so many times over the years but foolishly thought, "I've lost my skill, that phase of my life is over, I can't start writing again." Then I opened Tumblr, and I saw one your posts randomly about two weeks ago.

I've written like... 6,000 words in the past week after not writing more than a few incomplete paragraphs of creative fiction for years. I look at the Doc and still can't believe all those words came from me.

Sometimes when I lost motivation (which was more often than not), I skimmed through your posts again and the comments other writer's left on them. And I realized that you have to write that first draft bad and frightened to death or not write it at all. So I wrote it. And I wanted to thank you truly and deeply from the bottom of my heart for helping me summon the courage to.

anon 😭😭😭 my whole heart just crumpled like a napkin. thank you so much for sending this. i’m just sitting here staring at the wall because i don’t have the words to say how much this means.

the fact that you, who thought your writing days were oversat down and wrote 6,000 words after years of silence??? that’s fucking magical. that’s cinematic. that’s the comeback of the century!!!!! i’m so proud of you it’s ridiculous (´；ω；｀)

you didn’t "lose" motivation. you didn't lose anything. your writing bones were just sleeping. and now they’re stretching and cracking their knuckles and going "alright. time to begin again."

thank you for trusting me with this message. thank you for writing!!! please keep going. even if it’s messy. even if it’s terrifying. especially then!!!!

sending love & inspiration to you and everyone else reading this !! <333

[naomihatake]

Hesitant affection

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ pairing: Sylus x fem!reader

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ tags: fluff (like so, so fluffy), maybe a lil hurt/comfort, they're in love

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ summary: She wants so badly to love him, to throw herself in his arms at all times, but—. But there are times when she's scared of doing so for reasons unknown to her. All she can do is hold onto his hand and drown in the warmth of his crimson eyes.

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ content warnings: none

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ word count: somewhere between 500-1000 words

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ theme song: “I found” by Amber Run

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ a/n: This is a continuation of a LADS event not long after Sylus got introduced into the game. It's about Sylus's 'Mountain Journey' event story and you can find it on YouTube if you've forgotten how it ends like or if you're a late player (like me, because I randomly decided to watch all of his story events that I missed). Him and MC are at the beginning of their relationship or something like that; I imagine it as a tender and fragile relationship, yet it's so palpable they cannot ignore it either. It's also one of the first times he calls her "beloved" and I had to write that.

Inside their tent, on the handmade fur, they laid down together. On their sides, facing each other, they only dared to touch hands.

Tentatively, a few minutes ago, she placed her hand over his as it rested in between them. Sylus was close enough for her to feel his warmth, but not close enough to breathe the same air as him.

That affectionate gesture had surprised him a little — just a little, because she seemed to be confused on whether or not she should let herself feel such a thing.

There were times when she would gently pull away, with an apologetic smile. Other times, she would run into his arms and tell him a silly story she's heard from Tara. Sometimes, she stole some bland joke from her ‘doctor friend’ and all he could do was bend over and ruffle her hair, receiving a shy scoff in exchange.

And there were times like that, when she didn't know what to pick, when it took time for her to settle for the idea of affection. A silent form of love. Caressing his pale fingers, she traced small lines, just like she did when she painted with the orange juice over his cheeks.

“You seem to be deep in thought,” he hummed.

Sylus didn't dare raise his voice above a whisper, almost worried any loud noise would break that gentle spell that's been put over them. A spell they had allowed.

Her gaze didn't meet his. Instead, she opted for staring at their hands as she settled her palm over his knuckles. Sylus felt his heart swell in his chest.

“Sylus.” She squeezed his hand gently.

Silence. For a few more minutes, there was silence. It was calm, like a warm weighted blanket that covered the both of them comfortably. Despite not being a sleeper during the night, Sylus’s schedule had shifted a little for the day. Moving an arm under his head, he closed his eyes. The more he listened to her quiet breathing, he felt himself getting pulled in the embrace of sleep. Slowly, a pull as gentle as her touch.

When her hand moved, his eyes shot open. This time, his gaze met hers. Only then he realized that her hand didn't move away, but rather shifted so she could intertwine their fingers.

Baby steps, one at a time. Like always. He's gotten used to her tentative touches, but he wasn't exactly sure if he's ever seen such a vulnerable look in her eyes before. Willingly vulnerable, because he'd disturbed her peace the first time they met.

What an idiot he's been. He regrets it every single day and night.

“Sweetie,” he breathed out. “Your thoughts are very loud.”

“What are they saying?” A soft voice, barely there.

“I can't quite make sense of them. They're all so loud.” It sounded like a low hum as he pushed her to tell him more. “Help me decipher them?”

A question, because a request sounded like too much. Sylus felt his heart ache in his chest, squeezing painfully between his ribs. Threatening to burst and have blood drip through his bones.

“I'm glad we're here.” A shy, weak smile adorned her beautiful lips. “I'm glad I'm here with you.”

The admission pushed Sylus to squeeze her hand.

“We are. And we'll come back whenever you want. Or go somewhere else. I'm sure you could use some relaxing days from time to time, Miss Hunter.”

“Only if we're together.”

‘It's never boring when I'm with you’, ‘I'll go anywhere for as long as there's you’, ‘You've given me memories to last a lifetime.’ — usually, she was at the receiving end of such statements.

Sylus found himself a little breathless, a tiny bit frozen at that moment. His heart was finally beating with its full power, like never before, beating and begging to lay between her ribs instead.

“Did you know you've brought me back my sleep?”

“Was I so scary that even sleep ran to hide behind you?”

A small, harmless joke. It made her smile brighter.

“Actually, you're the opposite. I started feeling so safe I can finally rest properly again.”

With a gulp, Sylus found it impossible to swallow down the lump in his throat. From all things, he hadn't expected to hear that out loud, for her to say it so openly.

“It was hard at first. I didn't get a wink of sleep during the first day in N109 Zone. When I started trusting you, I couldn't find a way to wake up.” A soft chuckle escaped her lips, a little shy.

A detail he hasn't been aware of, truly. Of course, he had seen the dark circles under her eyes, mirroring his own, but he didn't know why they had slowly faded, why she started to sleep better. He supposed the nightmares just came to a stop at some point, that they were less frequent.

There she was, telling him he's been her sleeping pill lately.

“Why are you telling me this, kitten?”

Her hand left his and she intended to place her palm against his chest, to seek his warmth, more of—

Abruptly, she stopped and thought over the idea. Gulping, she intertwined their fingers again and brought his hand closer to her chest instead.

“Can I fall asleep on your shoulder?”

If he hadn't been so close, he wouldn't have been able to hear her. His expression softened and he removed his hand from under his head, extending his arm.

“You didn't even have to ask.”

Moving closer to him, she could feel his breath against her forehead. She placed her head on his upper arm and nuzzled into his shoulder. His fingers were still trapped between her own, her heart thumping steadily against the back of his hand.

“Good night.”

Sylus kissed the top of her head. “Good night, my beloved.”

A/N: I would be happy to hear some of your thoughts on this lil fic and thank you so much for reading! <333

[rosesareredrosa]

When Laughter Fades

Mattheo Riddle x fem reader

Summary: Mattheo takes things too far with his "banter" and didn't notice y/n's feelings of hurt and anger until one day she decides to speak up and Mattheo has to change to keep the relationship steady

Authors note: Sorry anon for the wait this was randomly so hard

Word Count: 1070

Mattheo Riddle loved pulling pranks. They brought him joy and amusement, especially when his favorite target, Y/N, was involved. She usually laughed along with him, but he didn't realize how close he was to crossing the line until today.

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, and the Slytherin common room was buzzing with students enjoying their free time. Y/N was seated at a table, diligently working on an essay for Potions class. Mattheo, ever the prankster, watched her from across the room, a devious idea forming in his mind.

He slipped out of the common room and returned moments later with a small enchanted box. Inside it was a jinxed snake that would leap out and hiss at whoever opened it. He approached Y/N's table with a casual grin.

"Hey, Y/N, I found this weird box in the Room of Requirement. Want to see what's inside?" he asked, holding out the box to her.

Y/N glanced up, raising an eyebrow but smiling. "Sure, Mattheo. Let's see it."

As soon as she opened the box, the snake leaped out, hissing loudly. Y/N screamed, knocking over her ink bottle in the process. Ink splattered all over her essay and her robes. Her face paled, and then flushed with a mix of fear and anger.

"Mattheo, what the hell!" she shouted, her voice trembling.

Mattheo's grin faltered. "It's just a prank, Y/N. It's a fake snake, see?"

He picked up the snake, which had now returned to its inanimate state, and showed it to her. But Y/N wasn't laughing.

"Just a prank? Look at my essay, my robes! This isn't funny, Mattheo. You always do this, and I'm sick of it!" Tears welled up in her eyes as she glared at him.

"Y/N, I didn't mean to—" Mattheo started, but she cut him off.

"That's the problem, Mattheo. You never mean to, but you always end up hurting me. Maybe you should think before you act."

With that, she turned on her heel and left the common room, leaving Mattheo standing there, guilt and regret washing over him. He watched her go, the weight of his actions sinking in.

Days passed, and Y/N avoided Mattheo. The usual spark in her eyes was gone, replaced by a guarded, wary look. Mattheo's heart ached every time he saw her, knowing he had put that look there. He had to make things right, but he didn't know how. Apologies had never been his strong suit.

One evening, after searching for Y/N around the castle, Mattheo finally found her in the library, sitting in a secluded corner. Her face was buried in her arms, and she looked up as he approached, her eyes red-rimmed from crying.

"Y/N," he said softly, approaching her table. "Please, can we talk?"

She looked up, her expression weary. "What do you want, Mattheo?"

"I want to apologize. I was an idiot, and I took things way too far. I never wanted to hurt you, but I did. I'm so sorry, Y/N."

"You always say you're sorry, but then you do it again. How can I believe you this time?"

"I know I've messed up," he continued, "but I promise I'll change. No more pranks, no more teasing. I care about you, and I don't want to lose your friendship."

Y/N stood up, her frustration boiling over. "You care about me? You have a funny way of showing it. Every time I start to trust you, you pull another stupid prank. Do you have any idea how much that hurts?"

"Y/N, please, I never meant to hurt you. I just thought it was all in good fun."

"Good fun? Fun for who, Mattheo? Because it's not fun for me. It's humiliating and cruel."

Mattheo felt his heart sink. He hadn't realized just how much pain he had caused her. "I... I didn't see it that way. I thought we were just playing around."

"Playing around? This isn't a game, Mattheo. These are my feelings. And every time you pull one of your 'pranks,' it feels like you're saying my feelings don't matter."

"I'm sorry," Mattheo said, his voice breaking. "I really am. I don't want to lose you, Y/N."

She sighed, her anger giving way to exhaustion. "I don't know if I can trust you again, Mattheo. You've hurt me too many times."

"I'll prove it to you," he said desperately. "I'll show you that I can change. No more pranks, I swear. Just give me a chance."

Y/N looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and doubt. "Alright, Mattheo. But this is your last chance. If you hurt me again, we're done."

He nodded fervently. "I won't let you down. I promise."

In the days that followed, Mattheo made good on his promise. He was attentive, considerate, and kind. He helped Y/N with her studies, brought her favorite snacks, and most importantly, he listened. But he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that things weren't the same. Y/N was more reserved, her laughter less frequent, and Mattheo feared that he had caused irreparable damage.

One night, as they sat by the lake, watching the sunset, Y/N broke the silence. "Mattheo, do you ever think about the future?"

He glanced at her, surprised by the question. "Sometimes. Why?"

"I've been thinking a lot lately. About us, about everything that's happened. I want to trust you, but it's hard. Every time I see you, I remember the hurt."

Mattheo's heart clenched. "Y/N, I promise I'll never hurt you again. I care about you so much."

She turned to him, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and sorrow. "I want to believe you, Mattheo. But it's going to take time."

"I know. And I'm willing to wait, to do whatever it takes to make things right."

Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder, a small gesture of trust. "Thank you, Mattheo."

As they sat there, wrapped in each other's presence, Mattheo knew that this was his chance to prove himself. The road to healing would be long and difficult, but he was determined to show Y/N that he valued her far more than any prank or joke. He would cherish her, protect her, and make sure that her laughter returned, brighter and more genuine than ever before.

[808airsoftbros]

Leap Year Pt.I (Triple S)

Author: An irrational fear story that randomly came up in my head so I hope you enjoy it anyway lmao. If you want to see more stories check out my Masterlist.

Y/N's POV

After going through another grueling day of management duties, I was looking forward to a nice rest in my room, managing 24 chaotic girls is a nightmare and I wonder what the company was thinking hiring only one manager for a large group.

Whatever... At least the paychecks are paying off my debts from law school, I wanted to be a lawyer at first but nobody wanted to hire me and I was in thousands of dollars in debt.

Luckily this company was kind enough to hire me and although being their manager didn't pay as much as lawyers, it was enough to pay off the debts.

"Baby~!" I heard a voice called and I turn around before being embraced by Sohyun.

"Oh, hey, Noona... Did you need something?" I asked tiredly.

"Do you mind if we cuddle? Besides tomorrow is your birthday," She asked and I nodded.

"Sure..." I agreed.

Sohyun walked with me into my room, my bed was big enough for the two of us, but what I'm gonna hate tomorrow is that it's the 29th of February.

Why? Because it's leap year meaning the 29th of February is only a day in the calendar once every four years and I'm twenty years old.

Welp, I guess I better prepare myself for the never-ending teasing from the girls.

"Goodnight my little baby~," Sohyun said and lightly pinched my cheeks.

"Noona~! You know I'm sensitive about that!" I complained and she giggled.

"Hey, we know you're an adult, we just like to have fun. It's not a bad thing is it? And besides who wouldn't want to be a kid again? Life was so much simpler back then," She pointed out and I sighed seeing she had a point.

"Yeah... Perhaps I could somehow transform back into a kid, since I'm apparently only five years old… I replied, and she chuckled.

"Right okay, my little baby~," Sohyun teased, and I sighed.

I was too tired to argue and just wanted to sleep. Sohyun was kind enough to let me use her chest as a pillow, which is much more comfortable than my pillow if you catch my drift.

Even though my manager job is hard, it's worth it because I get to be close to Sohyun and the others, even though they are chaotic as hell. But I sometimes wish I could go back to my childhood days... Wouldn't that be something?

~

Next Morning...

Waking up bright and early as usual, I yawned but as my vision cleared up, I was suprised to see I wasn't laying on Sohyun even though she normally stays with me the whole morning.

"Hmm... Guess she needed to get dressed... But we don't have any schedule today, do we...?" I tried to recall.

Suddenly the door swung open, Mayu and Xinyu walked inside, Mayu was holding a tray of breakfast foods and Xinyu walked in with a camera.

"Happy Birthday baby boy~!" They both cheered and I chuckled.

"Oh... Thank you, girls, I didn't expect-" I was about to say but was cut off.

"Girls? What are you talking about baby? I'm your mom and this is your aunt Xinyu~!" Mayu corrected and I raised an eyebrow.

"W-What...?"

"Aww~. I guess the baby forgot today was his fifth birthday!" Xinyu said and my eyes widened.

Wait...? Did she just say my fifth birthday...? Do they really think I'm five years old? This has to be some sort of joke right?

"Uhm... I'm not sure if this is a prank, Noona, but I'm not five... I'm turning twenty-one," I tried to correct and they shook their heads.

"Nu-uh, you are five years old. It seems you still need to work on numbers, but I'm confident your kindergarten teacher can help with that~," Mayu replied, and I was starting to grow more confused and begin to panic a bit.

Looking around for my phone, I realized there was no phone around on my night stand but some iPad, I grabbed it using the screen as a mirror and my eyes widened as I saw I was a little boy.

"W-What the hell...? How could this have happen..?"

"Yah~! We don't use that language here, mister... Unless you want your birthday party cancelled," Mayu warned.

"What birthday party?! There was never one planned!" I swore and they looked at each other before looking at me like I was a crazy person.

"Okay baby, will just leave you here... But don't take too long now because you still have school," Mayu said and they both walked out of my room.

As soon as they left my room, I gathered my thoughts trying to figure out what the fuck was going on and how the hell did I become a kid again.

I don't know how I'm going to fix this, or if I somehow traveled back in time or into another alternate dimension.

"I hope this is a dream... Wake up! Wake up!" I desperately slapped myself but it was no use as nothing changed.

I was still a little boy who was apparently five years old when I very well remember I was turning 21 today and I began to wonder if this is some sick amusement for the Heavens above because my brithday is on leap year.

Regardless, I have no other option but to play along with this alternate universe I am in. I begrudgingly got myself dressed despite how difficult it is with my short height and small arms.

I sighed coming out of my room to see Mayu and Xinyu talking with one another and they turned their attention to me when I came out.

"Oh, Y/N, you got yourself dressed~," Mayu pointed out.

"Aw~. They grow up so fast~," Xinyu cooed with a sweet smile and I sighed.

"Now, sweetie, are you ready for school today~?" Mayu asked me kindly and I nodded.

"Yes No- I mean Eomma..." I answered and she took my hand.

Without further ado, she quickly lifted me in her arms and cuddled me like the child I am even though my mind is that of a 21-year-old man. She gave me one big kiss on my cheek and cooed how adorable I am.

She walked into the garage to her car, opening the backseat door, inside was of course, a high chair... Doesn't make this any less humiliating.

Mayu placed me onto the high chair, buckling my seatbelt making sure I was comfortable and secured to the chair before going into the drivers side.

"Alright, baby boy, time to go~," Mayu cooed as she started the engine and I sighed bracing myself mentally for what's to come.

As Mayu drove down the road, she glanced at the rearview mirror from time to time, making sure I was okay while I thought of trying to find a solution so I can go back to my home dimension.

Arriving the school, the entrance was loud and chaotic as hell with kids running and yelling along with school staff trying to keep things under control.

Mayu parked the car in a spot before taking me off the high chair, there she walked me to the building, down the hallway to which apparently was my classroom.

"Alright, baby boy, I hope you have a good day in school and remember to listen to your teacher okay~? I don't want any teacher's notes," Mayu told me in a soft yet stern tone and I nodded.

"Yes, Eomma," I answered and she smiled before pecking my cheek.

"Good boy~. I'll be here when the bell rings~," Mayu promied and left me alone.

Shortly after waiting for the bell to ring, the teachers opened the doors calling their students to line up but the problem was I don't know my teacher was...

"Yah! Y/N, come line up!" I heard a voice shout and I turn see... Sohyun?

"Y/N, come line up with the class please~!" Sohyun instructed me and I slowly lined up with the rest of the kids.

But before I could I take a step I felt my hand being grabbed and I looked up to see Yooyeon.

"Sorry I was a little late, Y/N, come on let's go to class now~," Yooyeon said and lead me to the classroom.

Sohyun opened the door for us telling us to walk inside and take our seats in an orderly fashion which is not to be expected as these kids are energetic.

There was chaos in the classroom as some of them were fighting over seats and the rest were being annoying as shit.

"Jesus fucking christ... " I muttered to myself as I sat in a empty table.

Sohyun closes the door, kindly telling everyone to shut up and take their seats, soon enough we begin the lesson of learning to read and write which is hella easy for me.

However, since I already know Kindergarten level stuff like the back of my head along with any person that has common sense, I felt like I was gonna fall asleep.

"Yah! Y/N, head up! We're not even halfway to nap time," Sohyun barked at me.

"But Miss Park, I already know this stuff..." I tiredly said and sighed making her raise an eyebrow and Yooyeon was giving me a stern look.

"Yah, Y/N, that is rude! We do not speak to teachers like!" Yooyeon scolded.

"But I do!" I swore.

"Really now? Class, I think we better make sure Mister Y/N here was paying attention... Okay, Y/N, how do you spell cat?" Sohyun asked me.

"C-a-t. Cat," I answered without a stutter and the kids whispered to one another. Sohyun and Yooyeon were surprised.

"Oh... Y/N, looks like you were studying hard last night, huh? Alright, anyway class..." Sohyun said, a bit baffled, and continued on with the lesson.

"Wah Y/N, yesterday you were struggling with that word, and all of a sudden you're a master at it, you must've been studying hard," Yooyeon whispered words of praise.

I sighed deeply as I felt I was being treated like a little kid, even if I was physically, but I remember to them I'm still five years old in this world, and speaking of which, there is still no solution.

Maybe there is something I am missing... Perhaps tomorrow things will go back to normal, or am I stuck in an alien simulation? Nah, that's crazy even for me.

After the lesson was over, it was a break time, allowing the kids to play with the toys in the classroom or enjoy games on the iPad, which allowed me to find a solution to this mess.

Looking at Yooyeon, she was pre-occupied with talking to Sohyun, allowing me to sneak on the iPad. I grabbed an iPad from the cart, opening it up but to my dismay Google and basically the internet was restricted.

"Of course it's restricted... What did I expect?" I sighed in defeat seeing my last hope faded away.

"It's quite strange at how Y/N learned how to spell cat so quickly when yesterday he couldn't pronounce a single word on the alphabet correctly," Yooyeon mentioned.

"Yes, in my years of teaching, I have not once seen a single student spell cat or any word fluently without stuttering, it's impressive," Sohyun replied.

"Perhaps, we should test him? See how far his intellect goes?" Yooyeon proposed, and Sohyun thought for a moment.

"Best not yet, we'd have to get the principal to approve of such a thing, and we don't have enough proof. Why don't you take him aside and test him yourself?" Sohyun asked, and Yooyeon nodded.

"Yeah, I can do that while you're teaching the class," Yooyeon agreed.

With the plan set in motion, break time was over, everyone went back to their seats except me, Yooyeon took my hand pulling me out of the class and into another room that is quiet.

"Okay, my smart munchkin, today, I want you to spell some words and count, can you do that?" She asked in that sweet tone that you speak to a child and I interally groaned.

"Yes... Miss Kim..." I grudginly acknowledged and she raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me? Is that how you're gonna talk to me?" Yooyeon warned me in a dangerous tone and I gulped.

Probably wiser if I change my attitude and drop all my displeasures of being treated like a kid or else...

"Yes, Miss Kim!" I said in a more enthusiastic tone, and she smiled, satisfied.

Phew... Had no idea Yooyeon has her ways with kids... She is bloody scary seeing it first hand.

Yooyeon goes into the closet, pulling out a couple of education card boxes before pulling them out and setting them up.

"Okay, Y/N first word... Can you spell 'please' as in please?" She instructed me.

"P-l-e-a-s-e, please," I answered flawlessly and she seemd impressed as she moved on to the next card.

"Next word, can you spell mother? As in mother," Yooyeon asked me, and I gulped as that word sends shivers down my spine on some nights with the girls.

Best if I not go into detail about it...

"M-o-t-h-e-r... uhm..." I paused nervously and Yooyeon smiled warmly.

"Correct... Can you say mother for me~?" She asked me once again and I gulped.

"Mother," I blurted out making her sing with praise.

"Good job! Next card..." She praised me and we continued on with the spelling test.

[little-miss-fandom-freak]

Jayce Talis x Goth!Reader

Here's the 2nd Goth!Reader story as promised, Dr. Phosphorus' is on the way!

The two of you met while he was in the Undercity buying parts for his newest project.

You were a regular in Benzo's shop, selling anything you found while you were out scavenging. You were in the back, looking for something in particular for a project of your own. When you came from the back, Jayce digging through a box of power converters.

"Whos this guy?" You asked as you walked behind the counter.

Ekko shrugged. "Some topsider."

When he finally found the one he needed, Jayce dropped it in his box and slammed it on the counter.

"How much for all this?" He asked.

Ekko looked at you, then back at him. "Um... let me look."

As Ekko looked through the box, the Jayce's gaze drifted to you. You were too busy going through Benzo's knick-knack box to notice, but he was completely infatuated with you. So infatuated, he didn't even hear Ekko tell him the accurate price. When Jayce didn't respond, Ekko took advantage and doubled the price. Jumping out of his thoughts, Jayce quickly paid, and as Ekko happily scurried away, Jayce kept his eyes on you.

Feeling his gaze, you looked up at him through your lashes. "Can I help you?"

He looked almost startled when you acknowledged him. "Oh-um. I was... um... I-I was just... uh, I wa-wanted to say you... you-you look... nice."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his flustered self. "Thanks. Not so bad yourself, Topsider."

"To-Topsider? How-How'd you- I mean, what? Me, top-topsider no! No I'm not..." He realized he wasn't convincing you at all.

You laughed once again. "You're funny. I like that."

"You-You do?" He couldn't believe his luck right now. Grabbing you supplies, you walked around the counter with a pen in your hand. You pulled his hand twords you and wrote down your information on it and without another word, you left.

♡ Your first date with Jayce was to the History of Piltovian Technology Muesum. He felt a little embarrassed by it at first but was thrilled to find out how much you loved it.

♡ He doesn't quiet understand Goth culture (He's the type of person to call anyone wearing a lot of black Goth), but he tries

♡ He builds you little robot creatures and gifts them to you randomly (holiday or not)

♡ Your dynamic is literally the "He asked for no pickles" meme

♡ Let's you practice new makeup styles on him. It sounds since until you realized he cannot sit still at all.

♡ You're basically known around the university pretty early on as Jayce's scary girlfriend.

♡ People think Jayce is haunted after the one time you spent the day on campus with him and Viktor. Several students reported a ghost sighting that day.

♡ Speaking of Viktor, the two of you got along like a house on fire

♡ Being that you both grew up in the Undercity, you both had a similar thought process.

♡ Despite the chaoticness of the two of you, he loved seeing his best friend and lover get along.

♡ He also introduced you to his mom not even a week into dating (even she felt like it was a little early, but she welcomed you with open arms)

♡ Kinda thinks your a witch because of all the "potions" he finds you making (theyre just medicines and face creams)

♡ If you don't live with him, he will visit you almost every single day.

♡ But if you do live with him, or at least stay at his place the most, he will let you have full control over decorating. He's a scientist, not an interior decorator. The most "fun" thing in his apartment was a dead plant on the kitchen windowsill.

♡ Loves wearing your jewelry.

♡ If you're missing a certain ring or bracelet, there's a 99% chance Jayce took it before when left that morning. (He says wearing it feels like having you there spiritually)

♡ One day, he had you meet the Kiraman's. And you were a nervous wreck.

♡ Not only were they Jayce's sponsors, but they were close friends with him, and you didn't want to ruin it.

♡ When Jayce caught you dumbing down you outfit to one thst was more casual, he FREAKED out.

♡ He hated that you felt the need to change yourself. "If they can't see past the makeup, then they're sad for just assuming who you are without even getting to know you." (He made you cry, thank God you didn't have any makeup on)

♡ Caitlyn was a little scared of you, but eased up when she saw the look of pure love in Jayce's eyes everytime he looked at you.

♡ He bases a lot of his designs around you. This lead to many if the Hex-Tech machinery having Gothic-like designs.

♡ He tries so hard to get involved in your intrests, but he doesn't understand it.

♡ Pre-Time jump Jayce gets very sick when it comes to any level if gore, so horror movies were out. He didn't quiet understand the appeal of Goth music, but he loved seeing the way your face lit up when you would explain the song or the band to him

♡ When Jayce left with Himerdinger and Ekko to investigate the Hex Core, he ran into you. He tried his best to explain everything, and he knew you didn't understand but just being able to air it all out calmed him down.

♡ You were already late for work or else you would've went with, so instead you have him your black cuff. It was his favorite because he had a matching pair that was his house colors.

♡ And good thing you gave it to him, it was the only thing that kept him mildly sane when he was in the other timeline.timeliness. He would spend hours just staring at it, trying to hold on to the memory of you

♡ When he got back, the first thing he did was try and find you. When he did, he couldn't help but kiss you until your black lipsticks rubbed off of you and onto him.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

I hope you enjoyed this and if you have anything you would like me to personally respond to, message me or put it in my ask box because as of right now, Tumblr won't let me respond to comments :)

[fleshandfiction]

hello!!! i love your writing so much😭💗 could i request some dbf!joel no outbreak who randomly runs into reader after years since her dad’s death (they didnt see each other because reader moved without warning or something like that) and shes a completely disaster and denies joel’s help but finally admits that she always wanted him and then idk honestly maybe they fuck maybe they just kiss whatever you want and sorry for this long and bad written request lmao ignore if you want💗

Cigarettes & Sorrow

Pairing: dbfjoel x reader

Summary: in the wake of your father’s passing, you return home to clean out his house, your old childhood home. With your grief, you attempted to stay to yourself until your dad’s best friend Joel shows up and soon you found yourself within his arms soothing you through your loss in more ways than one

Warnings: a bit of smut, language, mentions of death, some fluff

WC: 1.7k

A/n: So sorry for the wait, I was away from home for a few days, but now I'm back, so I hope you enjoy. also thank you to anon for this request.

Moodboard by: @luvlofiie

Grieving is strange.

Your mind wanders, whether you want it to or not—through memories that cling like static. The good, the bad, even the ugly. Your brain digging its nails in, desperate not to forget the little things about him. Who he used to be. Who you were when he was here.

But what’s even stranger is the way the world around you shifts. Subtle things. The air feels heavier walking through the front door of your childhood home. No scent of cocoa waiting. No dad at the table with that soft, knowing smile, cup of your favorite hot chocolate in hand. Just silence.

You pause in the living room and see the dip in his favorite recliner. His whiskey glass still on the table beside it, a tiny splash of amber at the bottom, like he just stepped out for a minute.

His shoes still sit beside the bed. His coat still hangs on the rack. Nothing’s moved, and yet everything is different.

The whole house feels like it’s holding its breath. Like it’s waiting for him too.

Growing up, it was always just the two of you. He dragged you on every fishing trip he could manage, even when you whined and stomped and hated the bugs. And still, you loved it—because it was with him. Even the simplest moments felt important. Real.

Now, walking through his house, your house now, feels like walking through grief itself. It’s in every nail in the wall, every picture frame, every damn creaky floorboard. He’s part of this place. Part of you. And now he’s gone.

You sit at the kitchen table and the memories pour in like a flood you didn’t ask for. They’re thick and unrelenting, wrapping around you until you don’t know where they stop and you begin. You remember the sound of his laugh, the way he used to hum under his breath while cooking, how he’d sneak a sip of your cocoa when he thought you weren’t looking.

This house is a museum of him. Every room, a shrine. And you can’t decide if you want to stay or burn it all down just to stop the ache.

You don't even realize how long you’ve been crying until your sleeve is soaked.

Then—the doorbell.

It doesn’t scare you, not the sound itself. It’s the timing. The way it slices through your grief like it knew you were about to drown in it. You wipe your face, the chair scraping loudly across the floor as you move. You already feel annoyed—probably some salesman or a neighbor who means well and says all the wrong things.

But when you open the door, it’s him.

Joel.

“Hey,” he says quietly, voice low and rough like gravel under tires. His eyes flick away and back again, and he scratches the back of his neck like he doesn't know what to do with himself. “Saw your car. Figured I’d check in.”

He’s holding back. You can feel it. Like breathing too loud might set you off. He’s giving you space, and somehow that carefulness is worse than anything. Because you didn’t want to need anyone—especially not him. But you don't say that. You don't say anything.

Joel just stands there, solid and quiet, hands rough and stained from a life of fixing things. He’s not the type to ask what’s wrong. He just shows up. Always has. And sometimes, just his presence makes the broken things hurt a little less.

Maybe… maybe he’s the only one who could fix your heart.

“Yeah, I just…” you start, words trailing off.

“I know,” he answers softly.

He does. Somehow, he always does. The weight behind his eyes tells you he’s hurting too—he lost someone, same as you. Maybe not by blood, but close enough. And maybe you’re the only one left who understands what that means for him.

You step aside, the door creaking as it opens wider. He steps in without asking.

The house swallows him up like he belongs in it.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just walks slow through the living room. The walls still show everything you ever did—your drawings, your awards, your childhood frozen in time. Your dad never took them down. He was proud like that.

Joel pauses in front of a photo—one where you’re six, smiling wide with a missing front tooth, holding a fish bigger than your head while your dad beams behind you on a boat.

Joel's thumb brushes the corner of the frame. His jaw flexes like he's chewing something unspoken.

You stand a few feet behind him, arms crossed tight across your chest, not sure if you're keeping yourself warm or guarded. You don’t know if you should lean into this comfort or push it away.

“I remember that trip,” you finally say. “I begged him to let me drive the boat. We ended up spinning in circles for like an hour.”

Joel turns, mouth twitching into something almost-smile. “Bet he was proud.”

“He is,” he adds after a pause, and it hits you harder than expected.

You try to smile, but it dies on your face. Joel sees it. Of course he does.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whisper, voice raw, breaking open. “With all of this.”

He doesn’t respond. Not with words. He never was the talking type. But you hear his boots move across the floor. Then you feel him, close behind you. Warm. Solid. His arms slip around your waist, and you let him, even though part of you screams that it’s too much, too soon, too complicated.

You sink into him anyway.

He smells like motor oil and sun-drenched cotton. Like everything familiar. Everything safe.

“You don’t have to,” he murmurs.

And somehow, those three words are enough.

His arms were around your waist, holding you close, like the floor is about to open up and swallow you whole.

And honestly? You kind of want it to.

Because nothing feels real—not the quiet, not the ache, not even Joel, breathing against the side of your neck like he might break if he let go. Your fingers twist in the fabric of his shirt, clinging like he’s the only thing anchoring you.

Maybe he is.

You turn your face, slowly, and there he is—so close. Eyes dark, searching. His brow furrows like he’s trying to stop himself from doing something stupid.

So you do it for him.

You kiss him.

Soft, at first. Just lips, pressed and hesitant, like you’re both still pretending there’s a line here that matters.

But then his hand slides up your back, cups the side of your face, and everything snaps.

His mouth crashes into yours. Hard. Hungry.

It’s not sweet. It’s not careful. It’s everything else. Years of almost and regrets and quiet what-ifs. His tongue pushes past your lips, deep, claiming, and you moan into it, breath stolen and heart slamming against your ribs.

Your hands claw at his shirt, yanking it up, dragging nails across skin that’s hot and solid and so fucking real. He groans low in his chest, hands already on your ass, lifting you—lifting you like you weigh nothing—and walking you backwards toward the hallway.

“Bedroom,” you gasp against his mouth.

He doesn’t answer.

Just kicks open the door and drops you onto the bed like you belong there.

He peels his shirt the rest of the way off, eyes never leaving yours. The room’s dim, shadows everywhere, but you see the way his chest rises and falls like he’s been holding back since the day you first smiled at him too long.

You yank your own top off, then your bra, and his gaze drags over you like a hand, slow and reverent and filthy.

“Jesus fuck,” he breathes. “Look at you.”

You open your legs in invitation. Challenge.

He takes it.

Your jeans are gone in seconds, his hands rough and impatient. He drags them down your thighs, mouth following—hot kisses, sharp nips, a groan when he catches the scent of you.

He presses his face between your legs like he’s home.

And then his tongue slides over your clit, slow and flat, and your entire body arches off the mattress with a cry that sounds nothing like grief.

“Fuck—Joel—”

His name breaks apart on your tongue as he sucks your clit, finger sliding into you, thick and curling, and you can’t stop moaning, can’t stop grabbing his hair, grinding against his face like a woman possessed.

You come like that—hard, loud, shaking—his name a prayer and a curse all at once.

But he’s not done.

He crawls up your body, beard soaked, mouth swollen, and kisses you with the taste of yourself still on his lips.

You fumble with his jeans, desperate now, breathless. He helps, dragging them down with a groan, cock hard and heavy, flushed dark and leaking.

He lines himself up, and pauses—just barely.

You nod. “Do it.”

He thrusts into you in one long, slow slide, and the stretch is perfect. Deep. Hot. Your back arches and your legs wrap around him like instinct.

“Jesus—you feel so fuckin’ good,” he grits, hips already moving, deep and dragging. He buries his face in your neck, teeth grazing skin, groaning low every time you clench around him.

You meet every thrust. Hips rising, arms around his shoulders, mouth at his ear whispering every filthy, broken thing you’ve ever wanted to say.

“Been thinking about this for years,” he mutters, voice shaking. “Fuckin’ dreamed of it. Woke up hard more times than I can count—couldn’t even look at you without wanting—”

“Then take it,” you gasp. “All of it. Take me.”

And he does.

He fucks you like he’s trying to erase the time between now and that first kiss. Like your body’s the only place that ever made sense. His hand slips between you, fingers finding your clit again, rubbing circles that make you whimper, legs trembling.

You come again—louder this time, tighter, body clenching around him like he’s yours.

And Joel—Joel falls apart.

With a gasp. A growl. A broken sound as he spills into you, hips grinding deep, holding himself inside as long as he can.

You don’t let him go.

Even when he collapses onto you, breathing hard, skin slick and hot and trembling, you keep your arms around him like you’re afraid he’ll disappear if you blink.

The room’s quiet now.

Just breath. Just heartbeat. Just the smell of sweat and sex and something that feels dangerously close to love.

You both fall asleep like that—tangled and ruined and full of things neither of you is ready to say.

[joelssimp]

STILL | CHAPTER 02

I'm posting this one fast, because the first chapter has zero Pedro interaction, Just so we meet and get to know the MC, and I wanted to give you guys some Pedrito CW: Not much, but reader is afraid of drowning.

4.9K words previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

02 - Boat Trip

For more times than I can count, I thanked the heavens for having a chance to spend the summer in a province where the temperatures and humidity weren't as high as they usually were in Ontario. I love my province, don't get me wrong, but the heat that I experienced during those two or three months every year was something I didn't like at all.

For almost a week, Kate and I spent our days organizing our schedules for the next month, making lists of essential photos for each episode, and each department, planning our days off (they were rare, but they did exist), and getting to know each other.

Kate was a breath of fresh air in the midst of a bunch of crazy emotions. Her presence was soft, the jokes became more frequent, and the intimacy that fueled our work began to flow naturally. We talked almost all day long about everything and nothing at the same time.

Friday afternoon (the last day of our mandatory quarantine), she was cooking something for our dinner, “The Lumineers” was playing on the speaker of her small radio, a beer in her hand, and another for me on top of our two-seater micro-dining table. I was reviewing some documents on my macbook, and updating part of my portfolio with a mini-photoshoot we did the day before on our bathtub.

“Got the news that some restrictions are being lifted next week,” Kate said randomly, bringing me back to the reality of our kitchen.

She was looking at her phone with a small smile tugging her lips.

“I think the more people get vaccinated, the faster they'll lift these restrictions” I replied without taking my eyes off my computer “But that doesn't erase the fact that we'll have to work with these masks on set.”

“Don't even begin, just thinking about it makes me short of breath” She complained.

My lips quirked into a small smile at her comment. If there was one person who hated this whole mask thing more than I did, it was Kate.

I glanced at the bottom of my screen at the sound of a notification, and realized I had just received an email from Mike, the guy responsible for making the “photographers-TV production” connection.

I opened it immediately and let my eyes wander over the text.

“Afternoon on the Boat” Good afternoon Still, how is the adaptation going in the city? I am writing to make a request to you or Kate. I was informed that a small group of the cast and a person from the production will be taking a boat trip tomorrow afternoon around Banff, which is an hour outside the city. I would like to see which of you two can tag along with them to capture this moment. We can even get some of those pictures to use on set design. I await your response, and also apologize for asking so late. Best regards, Mike.

“Hey Kate.”

“Yeah?” She looked away from the pots and sipped some of the liquid from her bottle.

“Just got an email from Mike, asking if one of us could go on a trip with a group of the cast tomorrow afternoon.” I turned the screen to her and waited for her to read the information. “Wanna take this one?” I asked, trying to be formal.

“I would love to, but I made an appointment at that salon on the corner to get my hair done, since it's the first day we'll be able to leave this apartment.”

“Your first day, I've been clean for two days now.” I joked, bringing the computer back to me.

“But you’re the best companion, who doesn't like to socialize, so you chose to stay here with me.” She blew me a playful kiss, making me laugh out loud. “You can take this one, and I'll cover for you next time.”

“I hate everything that involves the chance of me drowning…” I said after a while of silence.

“You can swim, right?” Kate raised an eyebrow, still joking.

“Camera equipment and water don't mix, so neither do I”

“On the bright side... you'll get an early start with this all-star cast” She considered.

Filming wouldn't start until the end of next week, but it would be nice to start "slowly" and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. A Saturday outside the walls of this apartment would be a welcome change.

“You'll owe me a big one” I joked with her, and she laughed back.

“You’re the best”

“Yeah, I fucking know.”

I replied to the email confirming my presence and closed the computer to enjoy the vibe of our dinner filled with music and lots of laughter. Ever since Kate arrived, every moment was a different CD, an alternative or folk band to get to know, and this was one of the traits of her personality that I started to really like. We were never bored, there was always something interesting to talk about, to joke about, or to meditate on.

Somehow I managed to wake up early the next day, because I had to do a test in time to go on the trip with the cast. Sam showed up again to pick up the kit and take it to the studio. He was the person who ran around making sure everything was just right, and it looked like we were going to see each other a lot.

The morning was a perfect summer temperature, a wind that made you feel like the day could be the best day in this city. The blue sky with not a single cloud was classic for this time of year. So I took the opportunity to organize everything I was going to take on the little trip. Memory cards, extra batteries, my favorite lenses, filters, and the two camera bodies I had, but in the end I knew I would only use the newest camera.

I dressed in comfortable clothes, a Foo Fighters tank top, denim shorts, and a pair of boots that always helped me on those kinds of hikes when I needed them. My backpack with my gear hung on my right shoulder, a mask in my pocket for indoor use, and my sunglasses for a sunny day.

I planned to take a few photos around the city before I had to go to the meeting point they set up. And to have the energy to do all that, I needed at least one espresso running through my body, so I decided to try the coffee shop on the corner of my building.

The city was busier than I was used to in London, but it wasn't quite as busy as Toronto or Montreal. It was kinda comforting, the sounds of cars passing by all the time, people talking as they passed me, the trams rubbing against the tracks in the middle of the street. It was undoubtedly a big city, but it wasn't chaotic.

The coffee shop would be a very busy place if it weren't for the restrictions due to the pandemic. And it will be the perfect place to save me on mornings when I don’t have time to prepare something.

Even with the coffee in one hand, I managed to stop near the tracks to take a photo of a man walking in a hurry. The movement of the city behind him, his mask covering most of his face and his eyes focused ahead gave that photo a feeling of hustle and bustle.

The other photo I tried was to give it some contrast, and seeing the city's postcard tower, I captured the reflection in a building. It wasn't possible to see if there were people working or not, just the calm of the colors in a blue sky.

My mind was racing at a million seconds per hour, framing, exposure, aperture... A certain adrenaline every time my index finger came into contact with the shutter button. A passion for mundane details, details that went unnoticed by the inattentive eye.

I sipped my coffee, a double espresso, and smiled at the LCD screen of my Canon. Little by little, life was starting to have a better meaning than surviving one day after the other.

“You're Kesnia Sereda” It was more of a statement than a question. She immediately smiled “Sorry, I'm acting like a fangirl, but I've been following your work for a while now. The cinematography of Chernobyl really opened my mind.”

Kesnia was a typical Russian, blonde, strong but not that tall. She was almost my age, a few years younger, and her vision for films and series was out of this world.

“It's rare for someone to be a fan of the ‘behind the camera’ people” She joked with a laugh, her accent very marked in her English.

“I'm biased when it comes to talking about those behind the camera” I lifted my Canon, which until then was only hanging from the strap around my neck.

“Oh, so you're going to be in charge of the photos on the sets?”

“Me and another photographer.”

“Good, good” She said pleasantly “All of my advertising with the brands will be your responsibility then.”

“No pressure, right?” I shook my head playfully, and she laughed hard.

“Just a little” She patted my shoulder in a friendly way.

“Do you know who's going with us this afternoon?” I asked, really curious about it.

“The Miller family” Kesnia pointed to a car that had just turned the corner. Perfect timing for the scheduled time.

I knew a little about the game. I'm not used to spending my time with video games, so I hadn't played anything like it. But I had researched the story and had access to the first scripts to map out the set of photos I would need. 

A good part of the cast was well known actors, their faces were very familiar and I knew almost all of them as I'm always up to date with the world of film and TV productions. The Miller family in question was made up of three people: Gabriel, Nico and Pedro (Tommy, Sarah and Joel).

The afternoon should serve as an icebreaker for the cast. The idea was to form a connection, and I was there to help the department that was setting up the sets. The photos I needed were of the “family” together to use in the scenes for the first episode, where it would be possible to see the memories of what was supposed to be a life.

The atmosphere inside the car was of excitement; the three of them were already very relaxed. Fleetwood Mac played through the speakers at a pleasant pace, breaking the silence of the empty street. The car's tires stopped as Pedro slowed down to stop right in front of us. Gabriel was in the front passenger seat and Nico was smiling in the back.

“Let me guess,” Pedro said, lowering his glasses to the tip of his nose. He pointed to the Russian girl next to me and smiled. “Kesnia, and Still...” Finally, he pointed to me, the smile still playing on his lips. “Nice to meet you guys, my name is Pedro.”

He introduced himself as if we didn’t know who he was, as if he wasn’t this huge Hollywood star. It was clear that I knew him. I’ve watched so many of his projects because I’m passionate about cinema and television. Being face to face with someone like him wasn’t my thing. I usually camouflaged myself on film sets, and many people didn’t even notice my presence.

“He’s not that smart,” Gabriel said loudly so that we could both hear. “Your camera around your neck gave you away.”

“Ready for an afternoon with these two old men?” Nico opened the door for us and I laughed at her comment.

“Watch how you talk to your father” Pedro joked, pretending he was mad at her.

“Let's go, before I regret having agreed to this madness” Kesnia indicated for me to go in first and I took my place in the middle between her and Nico, placing my bag on my lap so I could sit down.

“It's a pleasure to meet you” Gabriel had kind eyes, he turned to us with a smile on his face that pulled a little at the wrinkles in the outer corners of his eyes.

“Nice meeting you too” I said, returning his smile.

“I hope I don't scare you on our first adventure” Pedro didn't turn around because he was driving, but he gave a look in his rearview mirror that made my cheeks burn right away.

“I haven't had much contact with people who aren't part of my family for over a year, it's very likely I'll be the one scaring you” I allowed myself to joke and received a smile from him.

“Are you guys from here?” Nico asked, curious and trying not to let the conversation fade away.

“I usually live in Moscow when I'm not working on a project,” Kesnia answered.

“And I'm in London-Ontario.”

“A real Canadian then?” Gabriel asked.

“Canadian father and American mother” I revealed, earning a surprised sound from him. His Texan accent was hard to pass by.

“Which state?”

“Ohio, nothing too fancy.”

“You talk as if my Texas is something from another world” The dark-haired man rolled his eyes, still with a smile on his face.

The one hour trip went by so fast that I began to doubt whether Pedro had taken us to the right place or not. Slowly, I felt my nervousness fading away, and I became more and more at ease with them.

Banff was a magnificent city, the mountains were breathtaking, and you could see all the charm that Alberta had to offer. A nature that was unmatched to any place in the world. Nature that did not escape my lenses. The moment we got out of the car, I aimed at the landscape that was in front of us, adjusted the lighting settings, and clicked.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the four of them watching me and quickly pulled the camera back to my body, embarrassed.

"Sorry, it's my first time in Alberta." I nervously fidgeted with my fingers without realizing it.

"You'll have to share today's photos with me," Pedro said sweetly, amused. "It's my first time here too."

"Noted," I nodded.

“Let's go before I get back in the car” Nico, the teenager from our little group, said, continuing to tease him, since it was Pedro's idea to do all this.

He rolled his eyes, muttered "teenagers these days" and pushed her playfully.

I could see how palpable their chemistry was already.

It was only a twenty-minute walk until we reached the place where we could rent the orange boats that floated down the river in the direction of the current. Pedro went ahead to rent one and I moved away a little, already thinking about not falling into that trap and photographing them from afar.

I sat on a wooden bench and went through today's photos to check if they were all good enough to be edited.

“Hey” Gabriel called me, coming closer “Ready to go?”

“Oh, no, I don't get along well with boats” I tried to smile nicely, but the thought that I could easily drown in that place got in the way of my smile.

“We’re all going, what you talkin’ bout?”

“I can take pictures of you from here, it's okay.”

“Pedro, she said she's not going” He told on me as if I were a bratty child, and my heart started racing.

“If I have to go, you also do” Kesnia pointed to the boat.

“Seriously, I'll be better off here” I insisted, hoping they would just give in.

Pedro shook his head and came towards me with one of the life jackets. He seemed focused on making his idea of ​​the trip work for everyone, he wanted to see everyone having fun.

“I don't need to…” I started to say, but he cut me off by putting the life jacket on my lap and holding out his hand for me to hand him my camera.

“Don't make me throw you into this boat.”

“Pedro…”

“No way” He opened and closed his hand, showing he was standing on business “Come on.”

“I can't go into the water with my equipment” I looked for a more plausible excuse, panicking now “No equipment, no job.”

“No problem” He had a mischievous smile on his lips “I'll ask the owner of the boat rental place to keep your backpack.”

“Pedr…”

“Hey, do I have to count to three?”

The rest of the group was amused by the scene. I was holding on to my equipment like my life depended on it, and he had one hand on his waist and the other in my direction, like a father lecturing a child.

I huffed loudly in dissatisfaction, put my camera away and held out my backpack towards him with a grunt.

“Good girl” He said under his breath, his fingers brushing the back of my hands as he picked up my equipment, releasing an electric current that started from that point and went all the way to my toe.

I cursed for not being strong enough to hold on to my idea of ​​not getting on that boat.

With Nico's help I put on the orange vest, uncomfortable because it was so bulky. The two men in our small group were amused by my suffering.

The instructions for rowing were given to them because they were better prepared, and as I approached I held on tightly to the ropes that were on top of the edge, my sweaty hands slipping a little with each movement that the water around us caused.

“Do you guys want to go down with some adrenaline?” Gabriel broke the silence of the boat, his playful tone in stark contrast to what I was feeling inside.

“Just get the fuck down the river before I have a heart attack and you won't get any pictures for a year” I grumbled, feeling the rocking of the small waves crashing against the plastic.

“Relax a little” Pedro was in the seat in front of me, his smile revealing a small dimple in his right cheek.

Somehow he reached the top of my head, pulled my sunglasses towards him, took out his phone and stood up to take a picture.

“Smile, it's for my older sister” He said as he positioned himself for a selfie, in true uncle style.

This time my smile was more natural, he took the picture and turned to me, striking a pose that highlighted the sunglasses on his face. I let out a breath through my nose in a low laugh and shook my head negatively. The Latino was like a warm ray of sunshine since he first opened his mouth, making everything lighter and more fun.

I managed to sit down without holding on to the rope as my support. The conversation flowed naturally with them, taking my focus away from the fact that we were floating in a part where the depth was no joke.

Nico kept teasing Pedro, like a good daughter would tease a father, joking about his age and the fact that he wasn't very good with technology. Kesnia discussed cinematography with Gabriel a little and every now and then I got involved in their conversation. It was a peaceful ride until almost the end when things got more interesting.

When he realized that he was almost losing the stopping point because of the current, Pedro quickly stretched out his oar to stop the boat at the point he needed to. 

It all happened too fast.

A jolt made everyone’s body get thrown a little roughly to the right. And for my luck, I was the only one leaning against the right edge, so my fate was to be thrown directly into the water.

I fell with my head submerged and right there a considerable amount of water entered my mouth. The water was freezing, as it was a river made of ice that melted from the surrounding mountains. My hands automatically went to the edge of the vest to make sure it was still there, and a second later I was floating with my head facing upwards. The small waves still crashed against my body and splashed my face, and I was desperate not knowing where the current was taking me.

A little far from where I was, I heard the sound of someone else entering the water, but this time on purpose. My ears alternated between being above and below the water level.

I tried to straighten my body, throwing my legs down and was surprised when Pedro’s body was so damn close. His arms stretched out to hold me. One of his hands reached for my arm and the other pulled my waist.

“Hey, hey, hey” He said, trying to reassure me. My brain was still very aware that if it weren't for the vest, I would be at the bottom of that river “It's okay, I got you, you're safe.”

My arms automatically went around his neck, in a false sense of security. Little by little he kicked the water, directing us to the edge of the river.

“We're almost there” He tried to comfort me, his strong arm holding me against his body as tight as the vest would let us. “I'll need you to let go of me when we get to the edge, I'll push you. Think you can do it?”

I had no idea where my voice went, so I just nodded.

“Great, you're doing so good. Just a little closer…” He gave me a gentle squeeze and then loosened his grip in preparation “Ready?”

“Wait” I said when I felt a wave crash against my nose, making me lose a little of my breath, thinking that I wouldn't make it. 

“‘It’s okay, take your time” He said patiently, with his sweet voice close to my ear.

I took a deep breath, in preparation and after I gave him a nod, he pushed my body and I grabbed the edge, holding onto a tree root. Pedro came behind and managed to push me up. And as soon as I was safe, I turned to him to extend my hand which he gladly took. I pulled him up and together and we fell sitting backwards.

“See, nothing to worry about” He said, trying to catch some of the breath lost in the effort he made.

“I’ll never get on a boat with you ever again” I grunted as I lay down on the grass, listening to his hoarse laugh.

“So dramatic” I heard him say softly and out of the corner of my eye I saw him get rid of his vest.

A gentle wind blew against the leaves of the trees that surrounded the river, and it gave me an immediate chill. My clothes were stuck to my body, cold as if a layer of ice was on me. My teeth began to discreetly chatter against each other. I imitated Pedro's gesture and also took off the vest that had literally saved my life minutes ago and sat down next to him again.

His eyes lingered my body for a second, and both of our faces went hot red.

"Let's go back, your lips are starting to turn a different color," he said, pointing to my face.

He stood up with a few grumbles and stretched out both his hands to me. I accepted his touch and in a single movement I was standing up too.

"Not going to kill you, because we have an entire production depending on you." I lightly tapped his arm, my heart still racing.

"How about this: I owe you something for getting you into this mess?" he suggested, seeing the rest of our group approaching.

"I'll take you on that"

"Whenever you know what you want, just give me a call." He gave me a wink and a smile on the corner of his lips.

I made a mental note recording that moment while I forced my brain to remember how I managed to fill my lungs, to breathe without feeling this heavy weight on my chest. I picked up the vest that was lying on the floor so I would have something to occupy my mind while Pedro welcomed the other three.

“We almost lost the best photographer in Canada,” Gabriel said, coming to give me a hug, relieved that I was okay.

“Chile boy over there almost managed to kill me.”

Pedro rolled his eyes and muttered “Yeah, yeah, cállate,” which honestly didn’t need much translation.

The summer sun managed to warm me up and dry my clothes. We went back to where we had rented the boat and I grabbed my gear, relieved that I no longer had to do something I didn’t want to.

It was the most fun I had had since the world had shut down in 2020. The actors were always extravagant story-tellers and they made me laugh like a child. I hadn't felt any resentment about what happened on the boat, but Pedro seemed to want to make up to me at every moment, probably feeling guilty for having some of the responsibility.

He was undoubtedly responsible for at least seventy percent of my laughter.

My body felt tired from the walks, and my face ached from the smile that rarely left my face. When the moon finally showed signs of appearing, the glow of the early summer evening slowly turning the sky darker, we were already driving through the streets of Calgary, back to reality.

Pedro dropped Kesnia off at the apartment complex where the main production of the series was staying. He dropped Nico and Gabriel off at their respective Airbnbs, and asked me to type my address into his cell phone connected to the car to take me there.

“Did I turn into an Uber so you could go back there by yourself?” He glanced at me in the rearview mirror.

“Maybe that's what I want from you, Pedro Pascal as my Uber” I challenged him, reminding him that he owed me a favor for knocking me off the boat.

“Is that all?” He raised an eyebrow.

“No, that would be too easy” I left my equipment in the backseat and went to sit in the front seat “The apartment I'm sharing with Kate is only 5 minutes away” I pointed to the screen while the directions were being computed.

“Did you rent an apartment for two people?”

“I like to save money. They don’t pay me the same as the most famous star in Hollywood” Halfway through my sentence I saw him roll his eyes, because I noticed he hated being treated differently for who he was “But seriously, we'll be here for a month, and I'll only use the apartment to sleep.”

“Is it a lot of work being a photographer on a production like this?” This time he asked casually, he seemed interested in my line of work.

“This is the first time I've done something this big. An HBO production for a year seems crazy enough.”

“Don't even begin to tell me. It's without a doubt one of the craziest things in my career.” He alternated between looking at me and focusing on the road.

“Does that include the craziness of filming three seasons of Narcos?”

“Someone’s been researching?” His voice dropped at least two tones with amusement.

“Pedro, you star in one of the best series on Netflix and you expect no one to know?” I smiled when I saw that he blushed slightly at the compliment.

“Did you know that I almost didn't get that role?” He revealed, trying to concentrate on parking in front of my building.

The streets weren't that busy, the traffic was moving quickly, which made the trip seem much faster than it should have been.

“So they almost fucked it up? We almost didn’t get the best Javier?” I asked with my horrible Spanish, literally killing the pronunciation of the name.

He laughed, making me feel even more embarrassed.

“Ja-vier” He corrected me and I showed him my middle finger “I thought they had Spanish classes in Canadian schools” He had a very sarcastic tone.

“You're confusing it with the United States” I shrugged, returning his sarcasm “I had French classes, mon amour.”

“Wow” He shook his head, impressed.

A few seconds of silence were all it took for my hand to find the car door handle.

“Well, I think I'd better let you go get some rest.”

“You're right, it's tiring being the hero who saved your life this afternoon” Pedro stretched, always with a hint of humor.

“Ha” I let out a breath in disbelief “Says the person responsible for what happened.”

“You won't forget it any time soon, will you?”

“Pedro Pascal owes me a favor, and we'll have a year to pay it back…” I explained slowly, pretending to be talking to myself “See you on set, Chile boy.”

This time I really opened the car door, went to the back door to get my backpack, and stopped on the sidewalk in front of the window of the car.

“See you on set, Still” His smile revealed that damn dimple, and at the end he winked at me as he said goodbye.

I sighed audibly, heavily watching the black SUV drive away down the street.

That fucking guy will be the death of me.

[pnghoon]

sonny baby !!

(🦒) ── LEE HEESEUNG [희승] ⁞ ㅤㅤ𝓰. fluffㅤㅤ୨୧ㅤㅤ warnings : est. relationship, pet names (babe), skinship, kissing (literally like a very chaiste, singular one.)ㅤ⟡ㅤ!nonidol boyfriend !hee 𝔁 fem !reader ㅤᯓ ꒰ wc : 826 ꒱ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤsynopsis .ᐟ in which your boyfriend suprises you with your very own sonny angel !! ── 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ᡣ𐭩

juno's note ─ randomly got the motivation to write this bc I just ordered some new sonny's hehe ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ഒ if you enjoyed reading this, please be sure to like & reblog !! ♡

you stood in the middle of your living room, face etched with horror as you stared down at your favorite sonny angel--a bright yellow giraffe adorned with stubby horns and brown spots, discarded carelessly on the carpet.

you slowly picked it up, immediately noticing the defects and bite marks that painted the plastic figurine. you couldn't believe it! what was once your most cherished angel in pristine condition was downgraded to a chewed-up trinket.

your eyes landed on the culprit, the dark brown feline sitting carelessly on the edge of the couch, oblivious to your inner turmoil.

"ddongsik!" you scolded, holding up the tiny angel in all its imperfect glory. the cat, however, watched with innocent eyes, blinking a few times before indifferently stretching out it's limbs on the couch.

you let out a soft sigh, padding around the room in disbelief with the sonny in your hands, a lump forming in your throat. anyone else might have shrugged it off, realizing it was just a silly mistake by a curious cat. but you? you had a reason to be upset.

that silly giraffe was the first gift your boyfriend, heeseung, had given you for your anniversary. it was a sweet gesture, the root of your sonny collection as a whole. but now that your first ever baby was ruined, you felt almost hopeless.

heeseung emerged from the bedroom, concern evident on his face as his eyes flicked between you and the cat sitting comfortably on the couch.

"babe? what's wrong?"

you held the sonny angel up for heeseung to see, watching his eyes widen in understanding. he sighed, quickly making his way over to you.

"ddongsik strikes again, huh?" he mumbled, gently taking the sonny from your hands, his eyes searching for yours. "i'm so sorry, y/n. i know how much this meant to you."

you could only nod, watching intently as he inspected it. "it was my favorite, hee. now it's ruined."

you sniffled, biting the corner of your lip to hold back the emotions begging to escape.

heeseung's eyes softened at the crestfallen look on your face. he tipped your chin so you would look at him before pressing a soft kiss onto your forehead.

"hey, don't worry. we'll figure something out."

he reassured, pulling you into a comforting hug, his chin resting on the top of your head.

you let out a soft sigh, surrendering to his care as you rested your head on his chest, inhaling deeply.

"promise?"

"promise."

over the next few days, heeseung seemed unusually busy. he'd vanish for hours, claiming he had errands to run, but always returned with paint smudges on his fingers and a mysterious gleam in his eyes.

when you asked what he was up to, he'd just flash a mischievous smile and tease it was a surprise. curiosity gnawed at you, yet you trusted him enough to let it be, even though the mystery continued to eat you alive.

one evening, upon returning home, you found heeseung sitting at the kitchen table, a wide grin lighting up his face. “close your eyes,” he instructed.

a soft smile graced your lips at his excitement before reluctantly obeying, feeling a flutter of anticipation in your chest.

heeseung guided you to a chair, helping you settle in before signalling you to cup your hands. after a moment, you felt something small and delicate placed into your palms, curiosity now fully piqued.

heeseung couldn't help but chuckle softly at the look on your face, gazing at you fondly before clearing his throat. "alright, open them."

you blinked open your eyes, and there in your hands were two customized sonny angels, meticulously painted to resemble you and heeseung. they were adorable, capturing tiny details that mirrored your features and heeseung’s gentle doe eyes.

you gasped softly, overwhelmed with emotion. "heeseung, is this…?"

he nodded eagerly. "i couldn't stand seeing you sad about the old one. so, i decided to create new memories—sonny angels that represent us, together."

tears welled up in your eyes as you examined the figurines, marveling at their intricate details. "it's perfect," you whispered, voice thick with emotion.

heeseung chuckled warmly, cupping your face with his hand and brushing away a tear with his thumb. “anything to see you smile again.”

in that moment, ddongsik strolled in, eyeing the new sonny angels with a curious tilt of his head. you quickly lifted them out of his reach, both you and heeseung laughing at the cat’s determined expression.

“we’ll have to find a safer spot for these,” heeseung chuckled, affectionately rubbing your shoulder.

you nodded, feeling warmth spread through your chest. “definitely.”

later that night, as you placed the new sonny angels on a special high shelf, safely out of ddongsik’s reach, you couldn’t help but admire heeseung’s handiwork once more. it wasn’t just a simple toy; it was a testament to his love and thoughtfulness. and that made it even more precious than the first.

𝓢igning off... @pnghoon

── 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 [OPEN 🗯] @onlyhees @amouriu @greentulip @enhluv1 @samiikeu @hoonwhile @dearrwoni @luvvsim @jakesangel

[lilacs-stars]

a night to remember

this is part 2, recommended you read part 1 first! (to avoid confusion) pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) (note: reader is glinda the good witch's daughter) SUMMARY: one day, you find a mysterious note in your locker from a certain pirate. who knows where it'll end up taking you—and your interesting relationship with him. GENRE: very wholesome despite the intro (I swear), fluff, some teasing and banter, reader being oblivious, mutual pining, just relationship cuteness overall CW: not much, mentions getting tipsy (not from alcohol), one little dirty joke if you squint hard enough WC: 7.5k

A/N: the title was inspired by the song of the same name by beabadoobee and laufey (I recommend listening to it while reading, as it sets the mood nicely!) james hook is literally so gentleman coded you can’t convince me otherwise. also I randomly thought of male characters using "m'lady" and now I'm obsessed...this was made to be pure, feet-kicking and giggling inducing fluff, so enjoy! thanks again to the anon who requested this, hope you like it! please leave feedback and suggestions, hearing your thoughts makes me so happy! :))

You stare down at the drink in your hand, the realization of what it is slowly dawning upon you. 

Mouth agape in pure disbelief, you glance up at the man sitting in front of you. The devilish glint in his eyes, rivaled only by the shine of his metal hook, sends chills down your spine—making it terribly clear why he brought you. 

Oh god, you think. How in the world did I get here?

You make your way through the bustling halls of Merlin Academy, trying your best to not get jostled by the ruckus of the crowd. 

Honestly, who puts people’s classes on the sixth floor and their lockers on the first? you mentally grumble, finally reaching the dreaded staircase that you climb up and down dozens of times each day.

After descending the five flights of stairs, you’re completely out of breath by the time you reach your locker. You tap the lock with your pointer finger three times, a magical device inside reading your fingerprint. It clicks open, and your locker door swings out towards you.

Reaching to place your books inside and take out some new ones for the rest of the day's classes, you’re shocked by something that slips out as soon as the door opens. A white piece of paper sways back and forth as it falls to the floor, right next to your feet.

You bend down to pick it up. Upon closer inspection, you learn that it’s not a piece of paper; it’s a small packet, stapled in the corner. At the top, in neat, printed letters, are the words “ENCHANTMENT OF MAGICAL OBJECTS: UNIT 3 WRITTEN TEST.”

Below it, a line is provided for the student's name. Scribbled down in a fancy, yet somehow still messy and barely legible font, is the name “James Hook.”

He left me his test? you question. You don’t even bother wondering how he broke into your locker; after that little incident where he stole your ring, you have resigned yourself to not being surprised at his so-called “bad boy” antics. He is a villain, after all.

This test was one that your class had been preparing for quite some time. It mainly centered the theory of enchantments, with the most difficult one being the Aiming Spell. Thankfully, you had taught Hook most of the material during your study session last week, specifically focusing on helping him improve his Aiming Spell (although maybe he got a little too good, considering how he pulled off that ring trick).

Your confusion regarding the test placed in your locker lasts only a second longer, until you notice that in the top right corner, a big, circled "87%" is written in bright red pen.

The number stays for a brief moment, before the red ink rearranges itself on the page, morphing into a “B+”.

Wait…that’s really good. For him, at least, you think. Is this really all because of your one tutoring session? You have always thought that you’re pretty good at teaching other people, but you never considered yourself a miracle worker. He must think it is because of me, I guess. Otherwise, he wouldn't have left this in here.

Even though you know you’re probably not supposed to, your curiosity gets the better of you, and you flip back the front cover to check what he got wrong.

As soon as you lift the top page, another piece of paper falls out of the test. This time, it’s smaller, a faint beige color tinting the sheet.

You reach down once again to pick it up as you notice that this one is actually an envelope. Glancing at the back, which appears to be empty, you flip it over to the front side. It bears a wax seal embossed with an emblem of two crossed pirate swords.

Carefully peeling back the top of the envelope so as to not rip the delicate paper, you pull out the note inside. There isn’t much writing on the plain paper, but it’s in the same handwriting as before. Very intrigued at this unusual occurrence of events, you read the few lines of text keenly.

“Friday, 6 pm. The Rogers Place.

Make sure to wear your fanciest dress.

Meet me there. I’ll be waiting.”

...What? You’re too stunned to even think. What is this? There’s no way he’s actually asking you out…on a date.

This has to be a joke, right? A study session was one thing, but this, this, meetup, is something entirely different. He even asked to meet you outside of school. You've heard before of the restaurant he mentioned, although you've never actually gone there yourself. Based on what you've gathered, it's a popular, rather formal place run by Eudora Rogers and her young daughter, Tiana, in memory of her beloved husband. 

So why in the name of the heavens would James Hook ask you, someone who has no dating experience whatsoever, of all people, to go with him to dinner? “Wear your fanciest dress”? What is this guy thinking?

In utter disbelief, you flip over the note, checking the back to make sure you haven’t missed something. To your surprise, there is some writing scrawled on the back, which reads: “Your payment for helping me pass my test.”

Right…so…he’s asking you out on a—no, it’s not a date, you remind yourself, yet again. He’s simply doing a nice act to return the favor. This was probably the only thing that came to his mind. Silencing the little voice in your head that whispers, “Why would the first thing that came to his mind be asking you out to dinner?”, you stuff the envelope and note in your bookbag, holding on to the test to give back to him sometime.

As you walk down the hallway, rushing to get to your next class, you don’t see the figure lurking behind the corner at the other end of the corridor.

He smirks, knowing he has you right where he wants you.

This one? No, it’s too casual.

How about this one? No, it’s not fancy enough.

This? Too sparkly.

That? Not sparkly enough.

You sigh, flopping onto your bed amidst a pile of dresses. It’s a few hours after school let out, on the day you’ve been anticipating all week long. And, not surprisingly, you can’t decide what in the world to wear. After all, it’s not like you’ve been out on lots of not-dates to know what a typical outfit would be like.

You stare up at the ceiling, sighing again for what must be the hundredth time this night. At times like this, you seriously wish you had a roommate. You've always had your dorm all to yourself, and sure, it is really nice most of the time. You can relax and unwind in solitude, with no one distracting you or pestering you with trivial matters while you study. However, there are the rare few occasions where you long to have someone close, to help you out or give you advice.

After holding up quite a few more dresses in the mirror, you finally decide on the one with the fewest number of cons, from the mental list you made for each dress. Slipping it on—albeit with much difficulty, since who designed dresses to be so frilly to the point where you can't even find where to put your head?—you stare at your reflection, completely enamored by the person you see staring back at you. You’re not really used to wearing fancy things like this, which is probably the reason why you barely recognize yourself.

Twirling around, head over your shoulder as you keep your gaze locked on the mirror, you realize why people have always told you that you have a striking resemblance to your mother. Your outfit consists of a ballgown-style dress, which really is the only type you have in your closet. Even though it’s a bit uncomfortable, the fitted bodice making it rather hard to take a full breath and the off-the-shoulder neckline compelling you to constantly tug it up to prevent it from slipping, it still is absolutely gorgeous. The short sleeves complement the torso, and the full skirt, all puffed up with layers of tulle, swishes elegantly as you move around. The bodice is densely embellished with small rhinestones, mostly at the top, with the gems growing sparser farther down the dress. A few crystals are set into the skirt just below the waistline, creating a scattered, shimmering effect reminiscent of the stars in a night sky.

Even though you aren’t a fan of fancy dresses, you must admit, you absolutely adore this one.

Finishing off the look with some jewelry and accessories, you take one last look at yourself in the mirror. You've never been one to be arrogant, but it's still hard not to think that even though this is certainly not a date, maybe, just maybe, Hook might be a little more interested in you after tonight.

“Um…hi?” you say, timid voice rising into a question from your uncertainty.

After getting dressed, you made your way to the restaurant. Fighting the deep-rooted urge to get there early as possible, you took the long route, not wanting to be the first to arrive. I’ll make him wait for me this time, you decided with an evil little smirk, thinking back to the day of your study session and the long minutes you had agonizingly spent wondering if he was going to show up.

Now, you stand in front of the reception desk, peering up at a waiter ordering papers. Fiddling with the lace gloves covering your hands, you add, “I don’t know if my name is ion the reservation or anything…”

Honestly, you’re not quite sure what to do at this point. All Hook had instructed you was to show up at the restaurant at this time. Part of you had expected him to be waiting by the door, but now that you see he isn't, your nervousness rises.

“Are you Y/N?” the server questions, glancing down at something on the small podium-like stand.

“Uh, yes, I am,” you reply.

“A young man has made a reservation for the two of you. He’s already waiting for you out on the patio. If you’ll follow me,” the waiter informs you, grabbing a menu from his stack and leading you through the bustling restaurant.

You follow him, feeling incredibly bashful as you swerve around tables and people alike. You finally reach a large set of doors in one of the seating areas, which the waiter opens for you.

Stepping through the threshold, you sense the cool rush of the evening air welcome you out. The sky has already begun to dim, a few faint stars gleaming against the dark backdrop. Spread out in front of you is an array of tables, most of them small enough for only two people. The low lighting, coming solely from flickering candles and glowing lanterns strung throughout the area, paired with the singular rose set in a vase at the center each table and a faint, slow jazz song playing somewhere in the background, makes for the most romantic of settings you could have possibly imagined.

Your breath is completely taken away as the server leads you through the arrangements of seats. It’s sparsely crowded, with only a few couples seated here and there, each enjoying an amorous dinner.

The server stops at a circular, two-seated table close to the edge, overlooking a magnificent view of the city down below. A few feet in front ahead and sitting with his back towards you, the only object of your thoughts for these past few hours turns his head in your direction, probably upon hearing the clacking of your high-heeled shoes.

Although you’ve tried your best to convince yourself that this, in fact, is not a date, you simply can’t deny the way his entire expression light up at the mere sight of you. Hook stands up, unabashedly eyeing you up and down slowly, taking all of you in.

A small smile tugs at his lips as he takes your hand in his, once again bowing down to place a kiss on your ring—it appears that this has become a routine, which you can't exactly say you mind.

You don't miss how he pauses for just a moment, noticing the way your ring is still on your ring finger, unchanged from the place he left it. Holding your breath, your heart beats faster as you worry about what he thinks of it. To your relief, he doesn’t say anything, instead kissing the gemstone and straightening back up again, but not before ever so softly—yet still with obvious intentionality—brushing his lips against your finger, deliberately tracing your skin with an agonizingly slow pace as his warm breath sets your every nerve on fire.

“M’lady,” he breathes, standing to meet your gaze. His casual nonchalance is a stark difference from the way you struggle to regain your composure, hating how even the smallest of actions from him can elicit such a reaction from you.

As you study him, you notice that he had a significant wardrobe change too; instead of his usual pirate attire, he dons a dark maroon frock coat, embroidered with intricate swirls and designs. He definitely made an attempt at looking a bit more classy, with his hair neater than usual and the collar of his shirt tidily done. You could even swear that his hook looked more polished than usual, and that he carried the faint, odd trace of expensive cologne.

The server leaves the menu on your table and walks away with a polite nod of his head. Hook steps over to the chair opposite the one he had been sitting in, pulling it out for you in a manner that is far too gentlemanly for what you're used to seeing from him, gesturing at you to sit down with a wave of his shiny metal hook. 

Overwhelmingly flattered, you walk over, smoothing your skirt beneath you as you take your seat. Hook pushes your chair in, before going back to the other side of the table to take his own seat.

Not sure what else to do, you pick up your menu and glance over it. “Decide what you’re going to order yet?” Hook asks you.

“No, you?”

“They already took my order, but I told them to wait on preparing my food until you had ordered as well.”

They already took his order? How long has he been here? you wonder. You glance at your wristwatch, seeing that it’s only a few minutes past six o’clock. Deciding to shrug it off, you go back to looking at your menu, despite not being able to fight the voice in your head that whispers about how you should've gotten here earlier, that he had probably been waiting for you, all alone, for quite some time.

“It’s so hard to decide,” you say with a halfhearted laugh, trying to fill up the heavy silence. You peruse the menu more carefully this time, marveling at how many different dishes are listed. Finally, after reading through the entire thing a few more times, you settle on the one that sounds the best.

After only a few moments, the server comes back around and takes your order. “A fine choice, ma’am,” he comments as you tell him your choice of entrée. You notice that all of the waiters here wear fancy black suits and come with a pristine white cloth draped over their arm. Huh, how fancy, you think to yourself. I never knew this place was so formal.

“So, Hook,” you begin, “Why did you bring me here?”

“Didn’t you read my note? It’s a thank-you for helping me pass my test. The teacher was very impressed with my score, you know,” he responds indifferently.

You give him a small sigh, paired with a gentle smile—your attempt at hiding the twinge of disappointment dancing in your eyes. “I did, but you didn’t have to treat me to dinner. A simple note would have sufficed.”

Hook looks at you, dark brown eyes wide and holding your gaze with an intensity you’ve never known. “Sufficed? I don’t want to just suffice. I want to give you a memorable night. An unforgettable experience.” “I don’t think I could ever forget a charming pirate with a hook for a hand,” you laugh, teasing him lightly. Instead of laughing along with you, Hook stares at you for another moment, studying you with slightly scrunched brows and an indecipherable expression on his face. You grow uneasy at his burning look, shifting in your seat as you wonder why he’s watching you so intently.

However, the tense awkwardness in the air lasts for only a minute, before Hook breaks into one of his famous smirks as he replies, “Oh, charming, am I? I know you can’t stop thinking about me, love.”

“Th-that’s not what I meant!” you cry, leaning across the table to give him a small push. He breaks into a laugh, his lips curling up into yet another genuine smile as he leans back just out of your reach. His mirthful expression makes you realize that he had been simply joking, causing your face to burn up as your mind replays your rather dramatic reaction. Honestly, you can never really tell whether he’s being serious or just messing with you.

“Settle down, love. Wouldn’t want you ruining that pretty dress of yours,” he responds, twisting to the side again to prevent getting smacked by you.

You two continue making small talk, still partaking in your teasing, only slightly annoying banter. Before you know it, a waiter is walking towards your table with two platters, one in each hand.

The server sets down the plates on your table, the dishes both looking absolutely delectable. Along with the food, he places two matching beverages in front of you two.

You thank him, and he bows again before leaving. Turning back to Hook, you watch with a slight arch of your eyebrows as he raises his drink in the air.

“A toast,” he says. “To continuing our little dates.”

You roll your eyes, not bothering to correct him this time. Lifting your own glass, you add, “And to you continuing to get good grades.” He smiles at this, before lifting the drink to his lips. Perceptive as always, you notice how his eyes follow your hand as you bring the glass to your mouth.

A sudden, fleeting doubt crosses your mind at his suspicious behavior. Glancing down at the drink skeptically, you notice its unique bright red color. You lower +it slightly and sniff it, then bring it down from your face, fixing a glare at Hook. “You think I don’t know what this is?”

“Oh, I know you do. That’s what I was counting on, at least.”

You persist with your glare. You've spent many hours reading up on different potions and elixirs, so you're no stranger to the drink in your hand. It's a popular one known as the Lovers' Lascivious Lure, a beverage with a fruit punch-like taste, plus a little kick. The real reason for its fame, however, is the touch of love potion that gets mixed in. Not enough to truly make someone fall in love with you or intoxicate them, but rather something that is favored by couples looking to get a little tipsy in love on their night out.

You set the glass down on the table, not breaking your gaze away for a second as you continue to glower at the person sitting across you.

“It’s rude to not drink after a toast, darling,” Hook says, raising his eyebrows at you.

“I don’t care, I’m not drinking that,” you reply irritatedly. 

“Fine. Your loss, love.”

You watch in complete shock, eyes blown wide and mouth agape as Hook brings his drink up to his lips again, tipping back his head as he gulps the entire thing down in one go.

“I’d drink yours as well, darling, but I’d hate for you to be forced to walk me home, instead of the other way around,” Hook spouts with a bit too much added expression, slightly swaying as the effects of the potion kick in. 

You continue to stare at him, concern etched into your features, knowing full well that this drink is designed to be sipped slowly throughout a leisurely dinner, one with much idle conversation and flirtatious looks. Not to be downed all at once. You honestly don’t know what the side effects are to consuming a large amount very quickly, but you pray that the potion is weak enough so as to not cause actual harm—or any other effects—to him.

“So, love,” Hook drawls in a low tone, leaning in. “Anything you feel like telling me?”

“You’re the one who drank the liquid courage, not me,” you point out, fixing him with another look. “Honestly, I’m not sure how much longer you’re going to last like this.”

At your words, Hook’s dazed expression suddenly disappears, instead replaced by a very serious, stern face. “Oh, I assure you, love, I can last very long.”

You blink, a tad confused at why he said that with such a strong conviction. Brushing it off, you look down at your food again, your mouth already watering. “Come on, our food’s going to get cold, and it looks far too delicious to waste.”

Hook agrees, unrolling his utensils instead of shooting back a one-liner, much to your surprise. You’re even more taken aback at the way he drapes the white cloth, which previously held his cutlery, over his legs as he begins to eat, keeping up with his very proper etiquette. He does everything with utterly perfect decorum, from holding his fork and knife in the correct positions to cutting all his food into little pieces. You honestly don't know why this comes as such a shock to you; he has been employing rather polite manners all evening, after all. It appears, you realize, that you’ve always subconsciously believed the stereotypes that pirates are unruly creatures, which therefore must mean they eat messily.

Apparently, this pirate doesn’t.

You both make small talk as you enjoy your food, which is every bit as delicious and succulent as it looked. All the different components are cooked to a perfect degree; not raw or difficult to chew, but not burnt, either. Rich, deep, aromatic spices have always been the staple of this restaurant, and for good reason. You have no clue what flavorings they used, but whatever they are, they taste unlike anything you've ever eaten in your entire life, like an otherworldly meal sent from the heavens. To top it all off, the food also comes with piquant side dishes, followed by desserts that are absolutely decadent and make you melt with every bite you take.

After you both have had your share, Hook motions to the waiter for the check. You had slipped some extra cash into your handbag before coming, not sure what the expectation would be for who paid. As the waiter returns with the small black book in his hand, you turn to Hook.

“I can pay, if you want,” you offer. 

Hook quirks his brow as he gives you a look, before reaching into his coat pocket. “Come now, don’t be ridiculous, love. What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t pay for you? Especially considering that I was the one who asked you out.”

You blink hard, barely aware of your small nod towards him, your mind racing as the waiter gives Hook the check. You blankly watch him scribble a signature before handing it back, trying to process what he just said. “...asked you out…” Does that mean he actually considers this as a date? Especially since he offered to pay for you…Heavens, what is going on?

Your eyes trail the waiter as he leaves, just as Hook turns back to you. “All finished?”

“Yeah,” you confirm. “So…what now?” You aren't quite sure whether or not he's planning on walking you home like he mentioned earlier, but you do know that you're not ready to part quite so soon. Averting his gaze, you instead choose to look down at the candle flickering in the middle of your table. It is now very dark outside, to the point where the flame’s meager light shines with a bright luminosity. Entranced by the fire, you stare intently at its dancing movements, attention fully consumed by how the flame appears to be practically alive.

“Now,” Hook says with a glint in his eyes, causing your head to snap back up, “I have something to show you.”

“Something to show me?” you repeat. “Show me what?”

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see once we get there, love.”

“Once we get there? Hook, where are we going?”

He gives a smug, knowing grin. “You’ll see. Just be patient, darling.” He notices the skeptical look you still have, so he adds, “Trusting me last time turned out good, right? So trust me one more time. I promise you’ll like your surprise.”

You consider his words, hating how he had a point. “Fine,” you huff. “Lead the way, I guess.”

You start to push your chair back to get up, but Hook chides, “Ah ah ah, no you don’t,” standing up himself before walking behind you. He grips the back of your chair and pulls it out for you, before offering his good hand to help you stand too.

Once again, you’re rather shocked at his well-mannered behaviors and courteous gestures. As you accept his outstretched arm, you wonder how in the world this is the same person who was, only a few days ago, leaning back in his chair with his feet up, flinging magical disks across the room.

Getting up, you hesitate for a moment, freezing in place now that you’re level with his eyes. You haven’t been this close to him since that pivotal day during your study session, and your breath gets taken away once again by the proximity.

His angular features and sharp jawline catch your attention, causing your legs to stagger as your gaze wanders down to his soft, plush lips, which definitely stand out amidst the rest of his chiseled face. You had never noticed how his eyeliner also traces his bottom lash line, making his eyes pop whenever he widens them, or how part of his hair swoops to the side and slightly covers his forehead. It dawns on you that you’ve always overlooked the two small silver earrings that dangle from his ears, or the chain around his neck with a cross on it, usually hidden by the collar of his shirt.

Not aware of how you’re just standing there paralyzed, you commit to memory the small details about him you’ve never really seen before. Even though the inside of your head is alive and bustling with a plethora of thoughts, outside, you two stand in terribly awkward silence.

Hook clears his throat, snapping you back to reality. “Come along, darling. We wouldn’t want to be interrupted by curfew again.”

Tightening his grip on your hand, which still holds yours, he leads you through the entrance you had used not so long ago while bidding farewell to the waiter. You continue up the hill to the woods behind the restaurant, Hook refusing to give even a single hint as to what big surprise awaits you.

The trail through the trees starts off easy enough, although still rather difficult for you to traverse in your tight dress and voluminous skirt. If I had known I’d be taking a hike, I’d have worn something more suitable, and much more comfortable, you think, but ultimately decide to keep your mouth shut. After all, Hook had been spoiling you all evening. The least you could do was not nag him about every last thing.

The farther you go, the thicker the branches that block your path and scratch at your arms with their sharp claws get, and the denser the underbrush that tries to trap your feet and swallow you whole grows. After a quarter hour of consistent walking, the trail all but disappears, until only a small path carved by the footsteps of a few brave souls remains. You have to hold up the edge of your full-length skirt the whole way to ensure it doesn’t get all dirty and muddy; by the time you’re nearly done, your arms ache just as much, if not more, than your legs.

You and Hook travel mostly in silence, the sounds of your heavy panting and the crunches of leaves and branches underfoot filling up the empty air. You trail behind him, sometimes struggling to keep up, although he does happen to notice this and slows down his pace after the first few minutes.

Occasionally, Hook gives a short, crisp, “Watch out for the rock there, love,” or “The branches here are really low, I’ll hold them up for you.” You always respond with a clipped “Yeah,” or “Okay, thanks,” trying to mask just how out of breath you've gotten from the difficult climb. Early on in the beginning of the hike, you had to let go of his hand, favoring holding up your skirt instead. Still, in areas where the ground is rough or rocky, or the footing becomes difficult or rather steep, Hook always turns around and offers his hand to you and helps pull you up, or reaches out his hook from overhead for you to grab on to.

The noises of the night accompany you the entire time: the soft chirps of crickets, a few croaks from a frog somewhere out of sight, a creature or other scampering through the bushes, a rare call from an owl, and the whispering of the leaves above as a cool breeze passes through them. After a few more minutes of walking through a maze of nature with trees so thick—their only rival being the velvety blackness of the night—the pace of the trek finally slows down. You've long tired of always having to hold one arm ahead to ensure that you don’t get smacked in the face by an unsuspecting branch, so you're overwhelmingly relieved when Hook finally says, “We’re almost there.” “Finally,” you mumble between breaths. “I think my limbs are just about to fall off.” You can’t really tell in the pitch-black darkness, but you could have sworn that Hook gave a small smile at your words.

Once you reach a thick tangle of branches and vines that completely block your path, you both come to a stop. You watch as he pulls them back and to the side, even slicing through some with his hook. He beckons you forward with a courteous, “Ladies first,” a grin dancing on his features.

You walk through the clearing and onto a wide ledge overlooking the entire city. The view knocks the breath out of your lungs, despite your body already screaming at you for more oxygen. All thoughts of your strenuous hike vanish from your head, except for one that reminds you the arduous journey was absolutely and totally worth it.

From all the way up here, you can see the entire land. The shimmering lights of the large cityscape below you steal your heart, while the small village houses and mountains beyond them, creating the faintest of outlines against the horizon, capture your soul. This vantage point allows you to see everything; every bustling street filled with people rushing to get home after a long week, or frolicking around on a night out. Every house, every drawn-back curtain, but a mere speck in the constellation of human activity, a testament to the splendor of life. Twinkling lights sprawled below you paint a shimmering mosaic, reflecting the celestial canvas of stars hanging above you.

You stare in pure awe, almost forgetting about Hook as he approaches you from behind. “Enjoying the view, love?” he whispers softly, his voice closer to you than you expected.

You startle, turning backwards with a sharp inhale. “Oh…yeah, it’s just…breathtaking.” Unable to think of the right words to describe it, you decide to settle for an almost shameful understatement of the view's beauty.

You’re not quite sure if you imagined it, too caught up in your head, but you hear something that almost sounds like a soft, “Just like you.”

“Huh?” you ask, turning back around to face him. 

“I said, I told you you’d like it,” Hook repeats, although you still hold your suspicions. “All you had to do was trust me.”

“And how can I be sure you aren’t planning to push me off the edge?” you question, teasing him.

“Well, you can’t,” he replies, walking over to the ledge. “But if I do, I’ll let you drag me down with you. If we go down, then we go down together.”

You giggle, choosing to take his words at face value only and not read into them too much. After all, your heart can only take so much in one night.

Hook crouches down, using his good hand to support him as he sits down in front of you, keeping one foot hugged to his chest as he dangles the other off the side of the cliff.

He glances over his shoulder at you, patting the space besides him. Cautiously, you walk over to the ledge, joining him on the ground. 

You both sit there for a moment in silence, looking over the magnificent scene. You can tell that Hook finds comfort in the lack of conversation, but it feels too heavy for you, and so you decide to finally break it with the question that’s been on your mind this whole night.

“Hook?” you ask gently.

“Hmm?”

“Why did you bring me here?”

He turns his head slightly to glance at you. “I thought you’d like the view,” he replies, looking at you with a confused expression.

You take a quick breath, preparing yourself for the difficult words you’re planning to speak next. “No, I mean, why did you really bring me here tonight?” He opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off, adding, “And don’t lie to me.”

His mouth closes shut again and he hesitates for a moment, contemplating his next sentence carefully, before responding, “I’ve already told you.”

“What, that you wanted to thank me for helping you get a B-plus on your test? Yeah, that excuse won’t work on me anymore.”

“No, not that.” He turns his head back and runs his good hand through his hair, making his neatly combed style look a bit more windswept than before. “I wanted to ask you out on a date.”

“…What?”

“I already told you that it was a date, love. You just chose not to believe me.”

It’s your turn to whip your head to the side this time, now facing directly towards Hook, who’s still looking straight ahead at the scenery.

“I-I didn’t…truly…I thought you were just joking when you said that.”

He glances at you again, a roguish grin forming on his lips. “Oh, darling, I don’t joke about much. Especially not with you.”

Again, you choose not to read too deeply into his words, trying to break your awful habit of overthinking. Instead, you press on, wanting to gain as much information as you can from him. If nothing else, at least a few answers might help put your mind at a little more ease. “Why’d you want to ask me out? I’m not exactly…”

Your voice fades away as your brain catches up with your far-too-fast mouth, realizing that saying “I’m not exactly the most desirable person to date” may not do you any favors.

Hook turns to look at you with an expectant gaze, and you know that you can’t sweep your little slip-up under the carpet that easily. Gods, he’s observant. “…the most popular person at our school,” you finish.

“Hmm, true,” Hook concurs, tilting his head with a tone as if he’s never considered that point before. You were half-expecting him to disagree, more out of courtesy than honesty, so you’re a bit taken aback when he agrees with you.

“But I don’t care about popularity.” Ah, so there’s that socially obligatory politeness. You don't really believe his words at first, yet the way he says it so sincerely, so genuinely, makes you wonder if he truly is being honest.

“So why’d you want to take me out on a date?”

“Because, love, you’re different from what I’m used to,” he replies. “You’re kind, soft, pure. You intrigued me.”

You recoil at his words, a deep, writhing anger rising out of you. “What, you only went out with me because I’m so pure and innocent? So you could corrupt me?” you spit, having heard this little skit far too many times before.

“No, not like that. Not at all.” Hook twists his body to face you more, and although you’re still mad at him, you can’t deny the hurt and pain that swirls in his voice and eyes at your accusations. “You’re…you’re always trying to help others. You always speak softly, always smile. You’re untainted by the evils I've witnessed. You’re like an angel sent down from the heavens. You’re not like me, love."

Hook continues, “And I don’t want to change that. I don’t want to corrupt or hurt you. I want to preserve that. Every time I’m with you, you make me want to keep you safe from the troubles of the world, the cruel things I’ve seen.

"You make me want to be around you. I can't explain how, or why, but your presence alone compels me to change my ways. To be kinder, gentler, softer. For you. It's as if you're contagious, and well, I think you've infected me, love. Whenever I see you, or even think of you, everything feels just a little bit better. The weight on my shoulders feels a bit lighter, and nothing seems as bad as it used to, as it was when I was on my own.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is...you've made me feel things that I haven't felt in a long, long time. Things that I thought my blackened heart couldn't even experience anymore. You make me feel like there's still goodness in the world...like there's still hope. Like I still have hope." You blink slowly, your mind and heart spinning alike as everything around you, as time itself, seems to slow down. You're unable to process all his words, unable to even begin to consider the implications of what this all means. “So, what you’re saying is…you only like me because I’m good?” you ask, touched by his sentiment, yet a little sad at the underlying meaning. Does this mean that if you want to stay with Hook, to maybe even be something in the future, you can't have any darkness to your soul? That you'll have to continue to be as righteous and morally correct as ever?

He gives a small chuckle. “Of course not, darling. I love when I make you snap, when you get angry at me. I love when the fierce part of you comes out. Just like it did now.” He reaches out his good hand to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, brushing against your cheek as he keeps it there, not pulling back quite yet.

You can see the hesitance swirling in his eyes, the uncertainty in the way his hand lingers by your face. By some sudden stroke of courage, the origins of which are a complete mystery to you—maybe he had the love potion added to your food too?—you shift your whole body towards Hook, keeping your legs tucked together and off to one side. 

“Kiss me,” you breathe.

“I'm sorry, love, wh-what?”

It feels strange to take command for once, but it sure is nice. “You heard me. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

His lingering hand cups your cheek as you both lean in, meeting each other in the middle. Hook’s lips are as soft and plump as you imagined, almost like brushing your mouth against the petals of a rose. Placing one of your hands on the ground beside you, you put your weight on it as you move even closer.

You’ve read of intense kisses, filled with passion and fueled by lust. But this isn't like that. It is slow, sweet, intoxicating you with only the purest of adorations. Your lips hover over his as you tilt your head to the side to prolong the embrace, getting swept up in the moment whilst being completely and blissfully unaware of anything and everything besides how his lips feel against yours, how his hook traces your body as he devours you like a starved man given his last meal. How he breathes you in like you're the very air that fills his lungs, like your sheer essence is the only oxygen he needs. You bring your hand up to his shoulder, leaning further into him as he moves his good hand back and tangles it in your hair.

It ends rather quickly, the entire kiss lasting but a moment, yet still filling you with the sweetest pleasure. In that moment, you realize why people spend their whole lives searching for love; it’s one of the most endearing, profound forms of joy that one can feel, and you're certain that you just felt it.

You pull away, noticing how his gaze lingers on your lips, before looking back up at you. He gives you a captivating, yet genuine smile, one that makes your heart to ache at how perfect he is, yet simultaneously yearning for his touch, his lips, him being wrapped up in another embrace with you and never breaking away. The newfound euphoria coursing through your veins and making your mind fuzzy causes you to return his smile with a wide, love-drunk grin of your own, a deep, wholehearted devotion emanating through your gaze as you study his features.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you whisper, staring into his eyes—eyes that reflect your own.

“Always, love.”

“You were my first kiss,” you confess.

Hook brings his hand back up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone. His grin grows, an endless affection swirling in his dark eyes as he replies, “I guess this really is a night to remember.”

You give a small laugh, lowering your forehead to lean it against his shoulder, seeking comfort in his hold. “You did want to give me an unforgettable night, after all.”

“Can I tell you a secret, too?”

You raise your head again to peer up at him with wide eyes, curious as to what he has to admit.

“That day, in class,” he confides, “I was enchanting those disks and sending them across the room so you’d come and talk to me. I saw how you went over to help that other kid who was struggling. So, I figured that if I struggled too, you'd come over and I could get a conversation with you.”

You raise your eyebrows. “So you could cast the spell right?”

“Oh, no, not even close, love. That was all your work. Although I might have put in a bit more effort just to impress you,” he adds with a small smirk.

You move one of your hands closer to him, placing it on top of his and intertwining your fingers together. “Well, I suppose it worked.”

You lean back into him, kissing him blissfully yet again under the watchful smile of the moon glowing high in the sky, the stars glimmering and winking down at your young love. As you embrace, the city below bustles with the joys and despairs of human life unbeknownst to you, each person a thread in the tapestry of the world. Every soul but a speck of stardust in a cosmic dance.

And perhaps that is the greatest folly of human life. All the weight of one’s burdens, all the battles fought, all the hearts and souls that love and cry, together composing of but a fleeting second amidst the vastness of forever. And yet, each person gets lost in the preeminence of their own narrative, joyfully unaware of every grain of sand that disappears into the abyss as we shuffle closer to the edge of this mortal coil. But oftentimes, one’s deepest flaw is their greatest feat, as no imperfection comes without its own merit.

So maybe that very feature is, instead, the greatest feat of humanity. To love like you’ll live forever, and to weep like there’s no tomorrow. Maybe our ignorance gives us strength, the strength to keep going every day, pretending as if we somehow have an authority and power over the galactic strings of thread that weave together the fate of our universe.

The city below you, the world outside of the little bubble the two of you have created, moves on, unknown and unknowing of you both. But in this moment, nothing else matters. Nothing besides the love and affection you and him have grown to share.

end x

<- back to part 1

taglist: @4ng3l-ch1ld @astrynyx @0strawberrysorbet0 @ljaylmaoo @maggiecc @elltheawkward @eretsupremacy89 @dreamerofasgard @mabs04

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a/n: I just had to end this with some philosophical musings haha (hey google, how do you write beginnings and endings?) anyways hope you liked this, I love making fluff like this :D I love seeing everyone's comments and reactions, all feedback is highly appreciated! until next time :))

do not plagiarize, translate, remake, or copy my works, including my writing and images, in any way.

[feyascorner]

So might have noticed i have read all your fics and I absolutely love them all!

If your open to taking this request for a fic, i would love like 4 times astarion was jealous and 1 time you were! (I dont know if your familiar with the prompt). Tav sleeping with someone before they get together (act 1) he’s catching feelings! After relationship is established: Act 2 Halsin showing his interest (whether its reciprocated is up to you!). Act3 Shar’s caress, the owner talking about Tav’s interest and drow twins!

Finally, Tav being jealous! Astarion fully enjoying it!

Or just anything with jealous astarion i would LIVE for! Love your work either way 😆

a/n. THEYRE SO CUTE IM IN TEARS I LOVE JEALOUS ASTARION/TAV

also this is not proofread unfortunately, and I'm not 100% if i did this right but we rock and roll!!!1

As much as Astarion boasts (and resents) his familiarity with seduction, you're an anomaly he's yet to understand despite his centuries of experience.

Never once in his courtship, even when he'd been alive, had he felt so tested that he was jealous, over someone. Not really, anyway. Sure there were bits of bitter feelings here and there, but most were trivial and about something involved in the relationship, not the person themselves.

He's counted four times since the two of you met, where he had to resort to his better judgment to avoid resorting to pettiness. The first one, was out of necessity--so much so that he didn't even realize what it was at first.

He had watched you snuggle up to Shadowheart of all people, just when he thought he'd finally manipulated enough to have you wrapped around his finger. Instead, he had to hear you laugh as you let the cleric lead you to a nearby lake, making him question if somehow, he'd gotten rusty. Especially when the rival in question was clearly too busy having a religious crisis to properly court you. Sure, you technically didn't belong to him, nor did he belong to you at the time, but he went to sleep feeling oddly irritated. He made sure to flirt with you even more, apparently, the next morning.

The second time, he had accepted the strange feeling in his chest whenever he saw you. And Gods he should have done it earlier. He made sure to show plenty of public affection, kissing your cheek or hand randomly as you and your companions explored the shadow-cursed lands. He got a mouthful from Lae'zel a few times, but he couldn't care less. And just when he believed he'd eliminated any potential rivals, the damned druid suggested that you had feelings for him. Here, he felt that same churning feeling he had weeks ago at camp, and found it was one that he didn't long for. He wouldn't have blamed you if you'd considered it--especially since the two of you stopped being physically intimate after his confession. But he could deny how much he hated this feeling. Pretending he hadn't heard, waited for you to approach him that night. When you reassured him you'd said no, he could breathe again.

The last time was weeks later, at Sharess' Caress, where the two of you were approached by the drow twins. And when he'd confessed he wasn't ready to become intimate again, as much as it scared him, you only smiled at him and nodded. That cursed warmth he felt from such a simple act of kindness would follow him to the end of his days. But he hadn't had enough time to revel in it, because the drow twins assured you only you would be enough, even if he wasn't a part of it. The moment you refused, he was already dragging you out of the room, cursing the twins under his breath.

But for the first time, he thinks you're the one experiencing that dreadful feeling of insecurity.

"Your measurements are perfect for this new selection that just came in! Here, let me just check if the rest would fit."

He'd thought little of the harmless touches of the tailor, but as he notices your expression through the reflection of one of the mirrors, he thinks differently. Your lips are pursed, eyes following the tailor's movements like a hawk as you tighten the arms crossed over your chest. Astarion himself is no stranger to touch, especially to innocent ones like this, but if your body language means anything, the sentiments are not mutual.

The tailor reaches up to measure his arm span, inevitably bring their face a little to close to his neck. He just tilts away, nodding mindlessly at what the tailor is saying, but his attention is fully on you. You're fidgeting, and your anxiousness is impossibly obvious to him, but the more mischievous part of him stops him from doing anything about it. Instead, he revels in it.

"Did you get my inside leg?" he asks the tailor, grinning widely. "I think you might have to redo it. I was leaning a bit."

The tailor agrees though all he sees is a nod of a head and a voice in his ear going right through the other. He observes as your face falls, and just as the tailor crouches down and leans close, you're immediately across the room at record-speed, hand latching over the tailor's wrist.

Astarion barely manages to hold in his laugh. His smile, however, is another story.

"I'll do it," you mumble to the tailor. They look to you and back up to Astarion before seemingly realizing what's going on, nodding.

"Very well."

He never thought you could look even more alluring than he already finds you, but the way your jaw clenches and your brows furrow makes him think otherwise. You lean down and take the measurements as needed, stomping on his foot in the process.

He snorts.

Once the tailor leaves for the stock room, he finds you sighing. "You did that on purpose."

It's not a question. He laughs, and while he could just apologize, he takes your hand in his, tilting your head with the other so you'd look at him. He might even consider the glare you give him as cute.

"Jealous, are you?"

"What do you think?"

"I was starting to think you weren't capable of jealousy."

"Why not?" you say, feeling his thumb rubs the top of your hand. "I've been plenty jealous before."

At this, he raises a brow. "I'd surely remember that."

"When we first met," you recall. "You flirted with practically everyone in camp. Saying you wanted to drink from Wyll, or something like that."

"You must know that I was--"

"I know what it was," you roll your eyes. "Not at the time though, and I thought you'd lost interest in me."

His jaw falls agape. "You're jesting."

"Why do you think I started flirting with other people? I figured you didn't like me as much as I liked you, so I moved on. Tried, at least."

"Is that what your visits to Shadowheart were?"

You scrunch your nose. "Oh Gods, I forgot about that. I'd rather not remember sleeping with one of my closest friends, thanks."

He can't help the grin stretching on his lips, and you notice, feeling yourself smile with him. "You're enjoying this far too much, Astarion."

"Please, tell me the next time you're jealous, so I'll know to keep an eye on you."

"Don't ask such ridiculous things," you retort, feigning annoyance before lifting his palm to your cheek and pressing a kiss to it. He swears his undead heart might've felt it. And just like that, the tailor returns, and you drop your intertwined hands, and he sees you shoot him a warning glare.

Acknowledging he's had enough fun teasing you today, he shrugs, and when the tailor begins showing him an array of outfits, he's not listening. Instead, he toys with the ring behind his back, making sure to commit your expression to his memory.

[chelseasdagger]

Teacher - Chapter III

Frank Castle x Inexperienced F!Reader

Summary: Frank invites you to hang out with him at a bar on the outskirts of town. After some good food, and lots of teasing, you get invited back to his place to take care of the problem you caused him.

Warnings: age gap (reader is in her early 20s), mentions of drinking and smoking, cursing, grinding, detailed handjob sorry, slight praise kink

Author's Note: I am so incredibly sorry for how long it took for this chapter to come out!! I had a lot of life issues that delayed this, but I'm pretty happy with how this turned out so please accept this super long chapter as my apology/holiday gift!! And if you want to be added to the tag list just let me know. As always, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :) Leave a comment or shoot me an ask!! I'd love to hear what you think!

Word Count: 9k

Previous Chapters: I, II

“So I was thinkin’… Said you didn’t get many experiences even after high school, right?” Frank asks. His voice slightly muffled through the phone, which is wedged between your ear and your shoulder as you drag the spatula over the food you’re cooking on the stove. He had randomly rang you out of the blue and, after attempting to control your breathing, you answered the call. This was what he chose to greet you with and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t confused by the topic of conversation.

“Good morning to you too,” you tease, the food sizzling as you flip it in the pan. “But no, I haven’t. Why? What’s up?” you question.

“There’s this bar on the edge of town,” he begins his offer. “Little bit of a drive but they got good food,” he explains. 

“Tempting…” you trail off, trying not to immediately agree just because it’s Frank. “Who all is coming?”

“Just me,” he replies. “That alright?”

“Yeah!” Your answer is too loud and far too fast to be playing it cool. After cursing yourself mentally, you try again. “Yeah, I was just wondering if it was a whole… get-together thing.” Your voice grows quiet at the end, not wanting to plant the idea in his head that you’d prefer it if there were more people.

Honestly, you were surprised he was reaching out this soon after the bonfire. It was one of the best nights of your life. Whenever you think about it, there’s this warmth that rushes through you; you’re not sure if the heat was from the big flames or his strong chest you laid against all night.

“Nah, just me. Just thought it would be somethin’ you might like,” you push the spatula around in the teflon pan as he speaks. “Plus it’s another thing off the list, right?”

“Yeah, it is! Thanks, Frank,” you say cheerily as you turn the burner off and open the cupboards to grab two plates.

“No problem, kid. Just thought about you, y’know?” You sink your teeth in your lower lip to calm yourself down before another thought comes to mind.

“Oh! When are we going?”

“Tonight,” he answers nonchalantly and your eyes grow wide. “If you’re free.”

You seriously weren’t expecting him to want to see you only two days since you two were last together. In your head, Frank is so calm and collected and you’re practically certain that this… thing you two have going on isn’t as big of a deal to him as it is to you. Still, you try not to question too much why he actually seems to enjoy having you around. Instead, you decide to just take the good as it comes.

“I am, I can do tonight. But I’m not sure I have something to wear. Is it like a club? Should I dress up or is it more jeans and—?” You don’t even realize when your voice picks up in speed and the questions fly out faster than you intend for them to, but Frank is quick to center you out of the beginning of your spiral.

“Just wear somethin’ cute, alright? I’ve seen some of your outfits, sweetheart, you’ll be fine.” You bite the inside of your cheek at his comment and inhale deeply before sighing. “I’ll pick you up at six, okay?” You hum an agreement as he confirms the time and say a goodbye before hanging up.

As you pull the phone away from your ear, you see an incoming text from your best friend drop down from the top of the screen.

“I’m two minutes away! I can’t wait to hear everything.”

That night when you got home from the bonfire, she had sent many texts in hopes of finding out the reasoning behind the newfound closeness between you and Frank. In your exhausted and slightly inebriated state, you told her that you would have her over Saturday morning to explain it all to her. You were much too tired to string the words together and you also know how she can tend to put her own emotions onto words; the last thing you needed was for her to hear the little arrangement you and Frank have and blow it out of proportion.

You set the table as you wait for her, making sure to leave a mug beside her plate for her tea that tends to be the staple of her breakfast. By the time the food is divvied up for each of you, there’s an impatient knock at the door. You shake your head with a smile as you open the door and she’s pushing past you as the questions immediately begin to roll off her tongue.

After guiding her to the small dining table in the kitchen, you watch her sit down and her eyes never stray from you. Her voice continues to fill the air as she talks over herself; there’s no distinct end to one sentence and the beginning of the next. By the time you’re sitting beside her and about to dig into your meal she finally covers her mouth, stopping all the enthusiastic queries she desperately wants to know.

“I’m gonna let you talk,” she mumbles behind her palms. You laugh at her attempts to force herself to be quiet and pick up a forkful of your food.

“I promise you it’s not as exciting as you think it is,” you warn her before popping the food in your mouth.

You start at the beginning—trying to skim over the details of your not-so-controlled crush on Frank as well as the more heated parts of the things you two have done together. Excited gasps fill the space surrounding the dining table and you watch as her eyes go wide when you mention it was his idea. Her mouth gets the better of her though and she begins to ask more questions while you speak. You make sure to answer all of them in time, save for a few chuckles here and there, before finishing your last bite.

“I actually have a question for you now,” you start again, watching as confusion washes over her features. “Frank called me this morning and he wants to take me out to this bar he likes. I just don’t know what to wear and I was hoping… you could help me?” You hesitantly look up to face her and you’re met with a beaming grin.

“Is this a date?! Is this the first one? Are you going back to his place after?” You shake your head once again as the sudden influx of questions fill the air.

“No, it’s not a date. I mean… I don’t think it is?” you let your thought process be shown aloud and watch as her giddy expression comes back to the surface. “It’s not! We’re just friends and he’s doing me a favor. I’m sure of it.” You decide then and there that you can’t afford to hold out hope and expect more than what he’s given you—which is already so much.

She raises her eyebrows up from behind the rim of her mug and you scoff at her knowing look. You brush your hand through your hair and try your hardest to not let your anxiety creep in about the idea of being on a proper date with Frank Castle.

And so together the two of you spend the afternoon diving through your closet together for something that could fit. It felt similar to a movie montage where the teenage girls toss different colorful fabrics through the air. With a growing pile on the floor of your bedroom, she gasps once you stand in the completed outfit.

“That’s the one!” she says excitedly before tugging you towards the bathroom. “Time for makeup!” She eagerly pats for you to sit on the counter while searching through your, admittedly limited, makeup bag. Doing the best with what she’s got, she gets to work on the eyeshadows and blush, finishing up with a curl of your eyelashes and combing mascara through them. You always loved how focused she got when it was time for something special; her tongue pokes past her lips as she concentrates, her eyes squinting to get the very last detail to sit right.

Once she’s satisfied, she spins you around to see yourself in the mirror and you’re actually surprised at how nice it all came together. You’re wearing an oversized, comfy jumper, tights that line your legs, and a black skirt that accentuates your frame. It’s not too fancy, but the black tights make your outfit more sleek and you silently hope that Frank will like it. As you fluff your hair up to give it some more volume, you thank her behind a wide smile.

A buzz of excitement rushes through you as you wait by the front door and hear the heavy revving from the engine of Frank’s van. You physically shake your arms in an attempt to let go of some of the nerves that built up and your friend gives you a quick hug.

“You got it, baby!” she encourages sweetly. “Have fun!” she calls out as you slip past the door. Making your way down your porch steps, you hear her shout something else from behind you. “Don’t do anything stupid!”

You chuckle at her warnings and make your way to the big, black van. You open the door and find Frank sitting with his elbow on his armrest and his head in his palm as he turns to face you. You stand there for a moment and await his initial reaction to your outfit. His eyes widen slightly before they rake over your boy, his lips parting as he takes it all in.

He brushes his thumb along the defined line of his jaw before sinking his teeth into his lower lip. His eyes settle on the small slit of the skirt that rests high on your thigh. There’s a pause for a moment before he finally speaks up.

“Told you you’d find somethin’ cute.” He fixes his posture and gives you a smile as you roll your eyes and sit in the passenger seat. Being with him felt easy now—of course there’s still the butterflies, which you’re expecting to make a permanent home in your stomach any day now, but it’s mostly when you’re about to see him. When you’re actually in his presence, it all fades away and you love how comfortable he makes you feel.

If you had told yourself a few weeks ago that you’d be on a half hour car ride with Frank Castle to the outskirts of town, she probably would’ve brushed it off as some sick joke. But here you are, sitting beside him and watching as he flips through radio stations until he settles on a classic rock song. You enjoyed getting to discover little pieces of him the more time you spent with him.

As he drives under the lamp posts longing the winding roads, you watch as the passing lights illuminate his face before it’s cloaked in shadows of the night once again. Each time you move underneath them, light showcases his features in a warm glow for mere moments at a time. You think your new favorite thing might be when the gleam seeps into the small dip in the bridge of his nose. That small highlight makes you smile and he catches it as he turns to look at you once you’re stopped at a red light.

“What is it?” he questions, his eyes squinting slightly as he looks at you. With a shake of your head, you face back to the light strung up in the air. His gaze doesn’t leave the side of your face though, and you know he’ll want an answer.

“This is just nice,” you shrug your shoulders. “Thank you for thinking of me,” you add. You want to make sure he knew how happy you were to be doing this, despite your quiet nature due to your fear of somehow screwing this up with your words.

“Haven’t even done anything,” he laughs softly.

“Well, I’m still enjoying myself,” you reply in a gentle tone. Frank doesn’t say anything more as he continues to look at you. The light changes and a green glow washes over your face, queuing him to face the open road once again. You glance down as his hand moves to the gear shift, trying not to focus too long on how the veins in his hand are accentuated as he curls his fingers around the knob.

Frank speaks up again after a moment and you quickly recenter your attention. He engages you in some light conversation and pretty soon you’re laughing along to his comedic storytelling. You don’t even realize you’ve arrived until he’s put the car in park and turns the key off in the ignition. Looking out from behind the glass in front of you, you see the neon lights surrounding the big, bold letters of the name of the bar. It shines brightly in the night sky and acts as a small beacon in the dark parking lot.

You look up at the sound of the driver side door closing and realize Frank has left the car. You reach for your bag that’s resting on the floor between your feet and by the time you move for the handle, he’s opening your door for you. It’s the first time you’re able to truly take him in. He’s wearing a pair of nicely fitting blue jeans and a grey jacket, complete with the black boots you’ve never seen him without. You can’t tell what he’s wearing under the thick material that conceals his chest though, and you find yourself hoping it’s something tighter and hugs his torso.

“You ready?” he asks, and you nod in response. “Alright, watch your step,” he warns and you feel his hand bracing your upper arm as you hop out from the slightly lifted van. Once you’re secure on the ground, the two of you begin making your way towards the entrance. As you pass by the cars parked in organized rows under dim lamplights, you begin to make out the few scattered people smoking and even spot a couple sharing a cigarette just outside the main doors.

Once inside the building, he shrugs off the jacket and you can finally piece together his outfit. Frank’s broad shoulders stretch the fabric of the dark blue button up shirt. It’s tucked into his denim pants and secured with a black belt. He fits the attire of everyone else here in the bar, but still stands over a head taller than the rest—not to mention infinitely more attractive. You try desperately to rip your eyes away from him, and in doing so, take in the scenery of the pub.

The bar is crowded but not so occupied that you can’t move. The loud, overlapping voices meld to create a soft droning that accompanies the background. It doesn’t stand a chance to the band though, whose loud amplifiers cause a shake in your chest with each note they strum. Polished wood lines the walls and there’s photographs of smiling people decorating them, forever cherished behind glass frames. It feels oddly homey, admittedly impressive for a place you’ve never stepped foot into before tonight.

You accidentally bump into Frank and he steadies you with his large hands on your waist. He’s staring down at you with a subtle smile on his face. He begins to talk but you don’t have the slightest clue what he’s saying; the song that’s playing is far too loud to hear the lower tone of his voice. Shaking your head with a frown, you let him know you can’t understand him and his smile grows wider. He then leans down, his fingers brushing your hair away from your ear before he speaks.

“Asked if you wanted to eat,” he starts, his breath immediately warming the side of your neck. With just those few words, it feels like all the other noise falls away. All you can focus on is the rumble in his voice and how the words feel as if they dance down your spine. “I’m starving,” he adds, and you’re certain your new headspace gave his words a different context than he intended.

He pulls away for your response and all you can muster up is a slow blink and a delayed nod. There’s no cocky smirk at your expression and you wonder if maybe he decided to spare you the embarrassment this time. He promptly turns and you fall in line beside him, letting him guide you around the crowd. His palm finds its way to your lower back as he leads you and just like that, your heart picks up in pace once more.

You’ve only seen the same small movement depicted in movies and you can now safely say that experiencing it is so much more exhilarating. Part of you is frustrated that such an insignificant touch can make you this excited, but Frank’s charm has a tremendous effect on you. Still, you tell yourself it’s the anticipation of his hand being elsewhere on your body that riles you up.

His hand stays put until the two of you reach a booth lining the back wall. There’s a small lamp that bathes the whole table in a warm glow and you and Frank place your things down before sliding into the long seats. As you stare at him from across the table, you watch as his eyes scan the crowd and then the main stage as he focuses on the band. They’re currently playing a cover of a classic rock song and Frank smiles as he nods his head to the music.

“This place is nice,” you raise your voice slightly to be heard over the music. He turns to face you and his smile grows wider.

“Yeah? You like it?” His question is accompanied by your own nod and he continues. “I’m sure there’s fancier ones close to town, but I’ve been coming here for years and they’ve always been good.”

He raises his hand in the air, tilting his head up and leaning to the side as if to catch someone’s attention. You follow his line of sight and look over your shoulder to see a woman with a black apron tied around her waist. She looks slightly past you as a grin covers her face and walks over to your table quicker than you expected.

“Frank?! What are you doing here?” Her voice is already grating and she’s only said a handful of words. Her tone is drawn out, almost flirtatiously, and she stands closer to him than you would’ve liked.

“Just showing her around,” he answers simply. He looks at you and when the waitress does the same, her face falls. You muster up an awkward smile and try to shake off the weird look she gives you. “She’s never been here before, you think we could get some menus?”

“Sure thing,” she mumbles, stepping away only to return a moment later with two long, laminated sheets of paper. She drops them to the table and you spare yourself the trouble of looking at her again.

“She sure seems to like you,” you speak up once she’s left. Frank scoffs before grabbing a menu and shaking his head. “Did you see the way she looked at me? What did I do?” You ask with a frown, wondering if you did something unintentionally.

“She’s probably just pissed cause you’re sitting with me and she’s not,” he answers with a sigh. He flips the paper around and you notice the way his eyes dart around the page. His answer wasn’t very reassuring though, and you still feel the tension in your body. As you scan the small print of the menu in your hands, you can feel his gaze on you. You try to shake the disappointment and to make it less obvious that what she said affected you, but you’re not certain how good of an actress you are.

“Y’know what?” he speaks up after a few seconds. You raise your face to him as he continues, “I know this place a couple of blocks down? Best god damn beer I’ve had.” His hand disappears under the table and a moment later you see his fingers curled around his jacket. “It’s German! You haven’t tried that one before.” He leans across the table before whispering, “You’re gonna hate it.”

His attempts at distracting you work well and you can’t help the laughter escaping you at the final thing he said. Frank’s own crooked smile returns at your reaction and a softness settles into his brown eyes.

“There she is,” he mumbles once he sees your regular self bubble back up to the surface. You bring in a deep breath and choose to shake off any residual awkwardness you felt from before.

“No, no it’s okay. We can stay here.” You finish your sentence and look back towards the music before facing him. His hands are empty now as he continues to stare at you and you feel confident in your choice to stay.

After looking over the endless list of drinks, burgers, and other appetizers, you read a description of a sandwich that makes your stomach rumble to life. You immediately decide on it without a second thought and smile up at Frank, watching him run his finger across the page between two options and looking quite indecisive.

Before long, the ill behaved waitress is back to take down your order. You pick your sandwich, remembering to take off the toppings you aren’t too fond of, add in an order of fries, and your usual favorite drink to top it off. With a hesitant glance up, you see her scribbling down your order on the small notepad in her hand. Her expression is twisted up as if she smelled something foul and you feel that uneasy feeling settling in once more.

“I’ll have the same as my date here,” Frank answers before she can ask about his meal. He gently taps the two menus on the tabletop before handing them over to her. His lips part as his eyes drag over your features and you notice the way they stop for a little longer than they should when they reach your mouth.

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You weren’t sure if he said it just to get under her skin or not but part of you didn’t really care. He said it regardless and that made a smile carve its way onto your face. An annoyed scoff is heard from above and you see a hand come into view to snatch the menus away from Frank. He never looked away from you once.

The moment the food arrives, you’re excitedly grabbing your sandwich and lifting it to your mouth. As your teeth sink into the toasted bread, the flavor hits your tongue and a satisfied moan escapes you. Frank is quick to lift his eyes at the sound, his eyebrows raising as he takes in the scene in front of him. You raise your hand to your mouth and begin to grow bashful at the look on his face.

“Sorry!” You apologize, your voice muffled behind your palm. “It was just really good,” you explain once you swallow your food down.

“Don’t gotta apologize for that, kid,” he replies through his own raspy chuckle. You bite your lip and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before reaching for the fries in your basket next.

The two of you dig into your identical meals and make some easy conversation in between bites here and there. You’re honestly impressed with how good the sandwich is and you’re glad you picked it out of the infinite number of items on the menu. Frank wasn’t lying when he said he loved this place. You watch him look up from his meal every now and then with a big smile on his face as he moves his head to the beat of the music. His energy was infectious and you found yourself tapping your toes along too. 

“Y’know,” he speaks up after finishing the last bite of his sandwich. At the sound of his voice, you begin to look up to his face, but your eyes latch on to something else. Frank sucks his fingers clean of the salt from his fries, his lips pursing as his cheeks hollow, and you immediately lose any grip you had on controlling your thoughts around him.

“When we ordered I saw your beer on the menu.” You hear his words but they have absolutely no meaning, no way of stringing them together to make a continuous thought as you watch him suck the seasonings from his thumb. You begin to feel a sense of injustice at the fact that those fingers weren’t where you desperately wanted them to be. With a pout, you look back to his gaze and see the confusion clear in his eyes.

“What?” you blurt out, finally remembering he had spoken and that you hadn’t processed anything he had said. He scoffs before shaking his head, his smirk spreading wide across his face before he speaks again.

“Said they have the beer you like here,” he repeats himself, his cocky grin a clear indicator that he saw how you froze up at sight just moments ago.

“I’m actually good tonight,” you say confidently. Reaching for your glass, you take a sip of your drink and hold his gaze as you stare at him from under your eyelashes. He sits back against the cushion of the booth and his eyebrows pull together as he thinks about what you said.

“Yeah?” he asks, squinting his eyes at you.

“Mhm, not letting a few beers stop me from what I wanna do after this,” you explain. You’ve never felt more frustrated than when he stopped you from kissing on his neck. You understood why he did it, and are actually very thankful he didn’t want it to go further, but the disappointment coursed through you all the same.

“Hmm? And what exactly is that?” he questions as the band finishes up the song they had been playing. Your eyes follow the noise as the crowd erupts into whistles and claps, applauding the musicians. When you finally look back over, Frank’s in the same position. It’s like he never looked away from you—hell, you’re not sure if he even blinked.

You don’t answer him though and make up your mind to keep him on the edge of his seat. Instead, you smile sweetly before picking up a fry from your basket and popping it past your lips. 

He gives you a knowing look, but doesn’t pry. Perhaps he was looking forward to the surprise of it all. You only hope you can remain as confident as you feel now so you can properly act out your plan. Before long, he swallows down his last french fry and Frank speaks up with a question.

“You wanna go dance?” Your whole body freezes at the mere thought of attempting to dance, not to mention the added nerves of doing it in a crowded room with Frank Castle standing witness. But as you look out onto the dance floor full of moving bodies, you realize most of them are probably far too intoxicated to really pay attention to you. Deciding to push past the initial fear, and wanting to be fully present with him and have fun, you nod and scoot out of the booth.

Frank stands in front of you and his hand soon comes into view of your eyeline. You place your hand in his and feel his fingers curl around your palm as you brace your weight on him and rise to your feet. You stand on your toes and motion for him to come closer so you can speak into his ear.

“Just so you know, I’m a terrible dancer,” you say after he’s tilted his head towards you.

“What part of me screams that I’m a good one?” he asks, and you chuckle at his joke. He smiles down at your laughter and nods his head behind him, letting you know he’s going to the dancefloor.

Frank keeps a hold of your hand as he leads you through the crowd. His broad body splits the sea of bodies as he walks and you follow close enough behind him to squeeze past them as well. There’s blue hues from the dim lights that shine over the people, but other than that you can’t see much beside their moving feet. He must’ve gotten to a clearing where there’s not as many people bumping into one another, because he stops walking and turns to you.

You’re sort of frozen still for a moment as the reality of it is beginning to creep in. But then Frank starts to shimmy his shoulders and you can’t help but break into a wide grin. Just like that, you’re thawed. The awkwardness you felt is starting to leave you as you begin to loosen up in front of him.

The band plays a fun, upbeat song that you don’t recognize, but he seems to be making the moves up as he goes along. You follow his direction, copying him but still keep some distance, trying to slowly shake off those nerves that are still lingering around. Suddenly, Frank does a move that you can’t even begin to describe with words alone and you burst into laughter as you watch him. Holding your stomach, you shake your head at him and he begins to laugh too. 

The band then retires from the stage, saying their farewells as the crowd applauds and whistles. Frank claps along with the rest of them and you cup your hands around your mouth to give a small cheer. You really enjoyed their set and wouldn’t mind coming back here again to watch them play once more.

Once the stage is clear, music begins to play over the speakers and Frank’s face lights up. His excitement is clear after just the first few notes.

“God, this takes me back,” his wide grin causes his eyes to squint up. You smile up at him, happy at his enjoyment, but you can’t help your head from tilting to the side confusedly.

“You haven’t heard this before?” he asks incredulously and you shake your head. “It’s literally my favorite song, how do you not know this?”

“When did it come out?” you ask, and watch him look up as he starts to think.

“Must’ve been… right after graduation, I think?” He does the math for a moment longer before answering with the year it was released. The answer has you fighting back a giggle as you stare at him awkwardly.

“Frank, I wasn’t born until two years later,” you answer honestly, and the look on his face is priceless.

“Jesus Christ…” he replies, dragging his hand down his face. You begin to worry now, wondering if you shouldn’t have brought up that point. He must’ve caught a glance at your anxious frown because he’s quick to explain himself.

“You’re fine just… my back hurt when you said that.” His hand comes to the back of his neck to emphasize his point and your smile finds its way back to your lips.

Despite the initial embarrassment you ran into after being reminded again of the gap in age between you and Frank, you found yourself really enjoying the song. He was honest when he said it was one of his favorites. You’ve never seen him this lively before and you love being able to soak up every minute of it. He’s so animated as he dances, holding you close to him with his hand secured at your back. The lines to the song fall past his lips like muscle memory as his forehead presses to yours.

You can’t stand being this close to him. Your whole body feels like it’s been shot with a current of electricity and you’re desperately wanting him to stop singing and put his mouth to yours. He might have a sixth sense—or simply just picked up on the timing—because his lips are on yours a second later. He kisses you deeply, his tongue brushing your lower lip for a moment before you eagerly let him in. Your head tilts to the side as you kiss him back and your arm wraps around his wide shoulders to ensure you’ll have your fill.

All too soon he’s breaking the kiss and you immediately suck your bottom lip behind your teeth to savor the feeling of him. He suddenly lifts his arm into the air and cues you to spin. You twirl under his hand with a huge grin and then he yanks you in for the finish, timing it so that your back is to his chest when you land against him. His same palm immediately finds your hip and tightens to keep you flush to him. His opposite hand travels down the length of your torso, his index finger tracing your side as he moves.

He begins to whisper the lyrics against your ear and you can’t bring yourself to focus on their meaning. He’s all over you and it’s making you feel dizzy, as if you’re drunk on his scent alone. Each pass of his finger along your ribs alights a fire at your side and you try to keep up as he begins rocking you from side to side to the rhythm of the song. His breath warms the entire side of your face and neck with each word he whispers. You fall under his spell and roll your head to the side at the feeling of his warmth all over.

When the song starts to fade and a new one begins overlapping it, you’re left with a bittersweet feeling; part of you never wanted to leave that moment and would gladly listen to that song on loop for the rest of your life, but the other half of you was almost frightened at how easily you turned to putty in his hands. You felt the need to have a better grasp on yourself, especially if you wanted to stay courageous for what you had planned for tonight.

The mix of two songs smoothen down into one and you instantly recognize the slow, sexy bassline that’s pumping through the speakers overhead. You’re not sure what came over you. Perhaps you wanted to prove to someone that you’re not that same timid, little girl. Whatever it was that coursed through your veins, you’re thankful that it gave you the strength to grab his large palm and put it back into place at your hip. You use the extra support to push your ass back into him, making sure to press hard enough until you feel the bulge in his jeans.

Frank doesn’t show any reaction except for his fingers tightening into your skin as if you were a lifeline. You smile as you continue to grind into him, your hips following the similar movements he taught you just a few days prior. Facing away from him gives you the extra boost of confidence needed to perform this act, but you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t kill to see the look on his face right now.

With each push of your ass against the denim fabric, you feel the heat of his bulge so close to where your own warmth had started to pool. This felt good and you felt pride surging through your chest once you realized exactly what you were doing.

And then his arm crosses your chest and pulls you flat against him once more. His forearm is pressed against your collarbones and you feel your breath hitch at the hold he has you in. With a shaky inhale, you swallow down the lump in your throat and wait for him to speak.

“Look at you, sweetheart,” the tip of his nose brushes the curve of your ear and you try your damndest to not let your body double over. “Someone’s getting confident, huh?” His arm begins to slowly drop from across your chest, and instead reaches your lower stomach. From there, he applies pressure until you’re as close as you could be to him.

“You feel that? Hmm?” There’s an undeniable hardness under the thick layers of fabric. It doesn't feel as big as the last time he got turned on from you, but it’s still noticeable. “That’s all you,” he finishes with a lower tone of voice before taking half a step back and leaving you to sit with his words.

It takes you a moment to wrap your head around this entire situation. It’s abundantly clear that the mood has changed from light laughter and awful dance moves to something more sultry. You can feel the warmth slowly spreading between your legs and it leaves you with a buzz that makes you feel like your movements are slowed. When you turn around to finally face him, he’s already staring down at you expectedly.

“Why don’t we get outta here?” he asks, deep voice blending in with the booming bass. You nod at him and it feels like you’re moving in molasses. The dull, blue light from above catches his face for a moment. There’s something deeper to his unreadable expression; his jaw is clenched as if he’s trying to hold something back.

Once the two of you make it back to the table, Frank reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. He thumbs through the notes before tossing a few bills onto the table. He reaches into the booth seat for his jacket and shakes it out before draping it over your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you mumble in a quiet voice.

“Don’t gotta thank me for that, sweetheart,” he shakes his head, insisting that your gratitude isn’t needed. He begins to walk towards the door with his hand in its designated spot at your lower back to help guide you once again. The chill of the night air hits you the second you step out of the building and you find yourself curling his jacket snugger around your body. His scent is stuck to the collar and it helps lessen your shivering from the cold breeze.

He walks you to your side of the van and opens the door for you to climb in. Even after he gets in and begins driving down the same winding roads, there’s not much conversation between the two of you. The tension in the car is thick and incredibly palpable. You’re indecisive about whether to break the silence or leave it untouched so as to not make it worse.

Eventually Frank pulls into his parking spot that faces the front door of his apartment. After putting the van in park and walking around to open your door once more, you take his hand and carefully step down. He unlocks the door and gets you inside quickly, trying to shield you from the chilly air. Once he flicks the lights on, you’re greeted by the familiar sight of his living room and feel that desire to touch him creep back in. Your name falls from his lips and you turn your head at the sound.

“I’m sorry if I went too far back there. I shouldn’t have—,” he begins to apologize, but you’re quick to interrupt by pressing your lips to his. A surprised grunt comes from him and you smirk into the kiss, pleased to have caught him off guard. He wastes no time in wrapping his arms around you and begins leading you towards the couch. When you feel the back of your knees hit the curve of the cushion, you angle yourself in front of Frank and push him into the sofa below.

He looks up at you with his lips parted and his chest is noticeably bringing in deeper breaths each time he inhales. His usually soft, brown eyes have a darkened glint to them and you’re certain you’ve never seen this emotion on him before. Your pulse is racing through your own body and you swiftly straddle him with your knees on either side of his hips.

His impatient fingers grab hold of you in a way no one ever has before. The action causes a surprised gasp to fall past your lips, but it’s swallowed down by Frank who can’t seem to keep his mouth off of yours. The light stubble decorating his jaw scratches at your skin and the rough feeling does nothing but spur you on further. You begin to roll your hips into his as you fall into a familiar pattern and he uses his hold to help guide you into moving faster.

His movements are rushed and needy and it makes you feel reassured that he wants this—he wants you. That little boost to your ego has your hands tracing down his body, your palms rubbing down his strong chest, before finally reaching his belt. Your fingers search blindly for the leather and the sound of the buckle clinking sounds out in between the wet noises of your kisses.

“Woah, easy,” Frank breaks the kiss the second the sound reaches his ears. “Let’s just, uh…” he trails off and you feel his fingers gently prying yours away. “Let’s take it slow, alright?” His tone is so soft and the concern is written clearly across his features.

“Frank, please,” you try to reason with him. “I didn’t even drink tonight! And I just… last time I was all worked up and I really want to do this.” You finish with a pout as you glance up at him with pleading eyes. He swallows hard as he stares at you for a moment, probably battling something internally.

“What do you wanna do?” he asks slowly, trying to make his words clear. The question is so simple but admitting it to him makes you feel small again.

“I… I want to touch you,” you mumble, silently hoping he doesn’t ask you to be more explicit than that.

“You sure you want this?” His eyes never leave yours as he confirms your consent.

“I really do,” you reply, bringing your hand up and cupping his cheek. You brush your thumb over his skin and watch as he begins to shut his eyes and breathe deeply. “Please?”

You’re not sure if it’s the quiet plea, his own craving that’s swaying his decision, or some combination of the two, but he slowly uncurls his fingers from your wrist. You beam brightly at him and whisper a thanks as you peck him on the cheek.

“You’re still gonna have to walk me through it, Frank,” you say through a small chuckle.

He nods with an equally quiet, “I know.”

From there, he doesn’t try to deter your movements any longer. He lets you continue as you slide his belt past the metal buckle. You look up at him for reassurance and he nods his head with a smile. He takes your hand in his and pulls it to his bulge, letting you feel it properly for the first time. Excitement races through you and settles in your lower stomach as you watch your hand touch him over the denim.

“Can I take your jeans off?” Your question is met with another nod as he lets go of you. Slipping the button past the slit, you then lower the zipper past the teeth and the sound feels so loud in the otherwise silent room. You move to sit beside him and Frank helps you tug his pants down, raising his hips to lower them some more until they fall past his knees. He’s wearing a pair of dark grey boxer briefs and your eyes linger far too long on how they hug his thighs.

The thick outline stretching the fabric is enough to recenter your attention though. You start to feel the nerves coming back once you register just how big he is as he lies against his hip. You always had a feeling, given the sheer size of the man, but seeing it is a whole other experience. Thankfully, Frank doesn’t rush you as he lets you take this all in. You hesitantly move your hand over the length of him, brushing your fingers over the defined line underneath the head of his cock.

The next thing you reach for is the waistband of his boxers. You curl your fingers over the edge and tug them down, watching as more and more of his happy trail becomes exposed. He once again helps you pull them past his legs and now that he’s bare in front of you, you can’t help your eyes from widening. You had thought the bulge was big, but it was misleading; Frank is actually much larger than you had anticipated.

“What? You’ve never seen—?” He starts but you’re quick to cut him off.

“I have. I’ve seen, like, porn before but…” you find your voice leaving you as you stare between his legs. “It’s just bigger in person.” His chuckle sounds out and you raise your head to the noise only to be met by an amused smirk at your confession.

“S’not just cause it’s in person, kid,” he laughs through his words and you roll your eyes at his cockiness. You like that you can still crack jokes during a time like this and you find yourself thankful that you get to have Frank as your first introduction to sex. Feeling more relaxed, you reach forward and gently curl your fingers around his thick base.

“You can hold it tighter than that,” he speaks up after a second.

“I know,” you respond, tightening your hold on him a little more. He snorts lightly at the, apparently, subtle increase in pressure and you feel his larger hand curling around your own. His long fingers squeeze over yours, adjusting your grip on his length as he begins to move your hand up and down. He’s warm and heavy in your hand, two things you hadn’t given much thought of before now. Frank lifts your hand once more and a satisfied sigh leaves him.

The sound stirs something in your stomach and you try to swallow down your own growing arousal at the noise he’s making. He loosens his hold on you and you watch as his hands find the hem of his shirt before bunching it up and exposing the lower half of his stomach. There’s so much to look at and it’s pulling your attention in too many ways. You try to focus on him in your hand though and begin speeding up your movements.

“You can spit on it,” he speaks up after a few seconds. You turn to face him and feel your eyebrows pull together at his words.

“Like just… spit on it?” The confusion is more than likely obvious in your tone but you want to ensure that you don’t embarrass yourself with him. Not now when you’ve made it this far.

“Yeah, go for it,” he encourages gently. With one last glance at him, you lean forward and lower your head over his length. You purse your lips and part them as you let the split slowly drip until it’s sliding over his head. You watch as it runs down past the tip and Frank clears his throat.

“Shit, yeah that…” he trails off as he raises his hips slightly. “That works too.” You smile at his words and wonder if his movement was an instinctual reaction to the warmth running along the smooth skin of his cock.

With the help of the extra slick added to his length, you begin to work your hand faster on him. You know from what you’ve heard that the tip is more sensitive, so you raise your hand right underneath his head and tighten your grip. A grunt immediately falls from him and you impulsively let go of him. You face him with a worried expression and watch as he brings in a deep breath before swallowing thickly.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Just felt real damn good.” The praise in his words immediately rushes to your heart and you feel yourself swell with pride. You can’t believe you made him feel that good, but now you’re determined to see what other sounds you can pull from his pretty lips. As you focus your attention back to his cock, you see a few beads of precum beginning to bubble up at his swollen tip. You rub your thumb in circles over the slit, spreading around the proof of his pleasure, and you feel him twitch in your hold.

“Shiiiiiit,” the drawn out curse sounds raspy and you don’t stop your movements as you check once again to see his reaction. Frank’s head is tilted back slightly against the couch cushion, his mouth is parted, and his eyes are scrunched up slightly. You try your hardest to memorize this version of him. You wish you could ingrain this memory so you’ll never forget how good he looks when he’s succumbing to his pleasure.

Twisting your hand as you move it over his length, you notice the way his adam's apple bobs as he swallows down presumably another groan. You can’t resist the urge to feel even more of him, and press your lips against his neck. Lazy kisses are littered across his skin while you work your hand faster, intermittently tightening your hold on his thickness. His throat tightens as he feels the wet marks of your affection, and the next thing you feel is his fingers tangling in your hair. He pulls gently as he tugs your head up to his and he kisses down your surprised gasp, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

You’re having trouble keeping up with his movements and you realize this must be what it’s like to be kissed breathlessly. Any moment you get, you’re greedily gulping down air before he continues his ravenous attack on your lips. You never slow the speed of your hand and press yourself against his side, trying to feel more of him to satiate your need. Frank tries to break the kiss but you push against him harder, not wanting to let go for a second. But he tries again, grabbing your wrist gently and you immediately pull away with a frown.

“What did I do?” you ask in a worried tone. He’s quick to lock his eyes with yours and speaks clearly.

“You’re okay. You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” he starts, and then nods down towards his lap. “I’m almost there, kid. Just wanted to warn you before it happens.” And just like that, a wide grin splits across your face. I’m making him feel that good?!

“I really wanna make you come, Frank,” you tell him honestly and you notice his cock twitch slightly as he registers your words.

“You keep talking like that and you will,” he grumbles in a low voice. His tone almost seems as if it was meant as a warning, but all it does is add to the fire in the pit of your stomach. You’re quick to reach for him again and fall back into the rhythm you established just seconds ago. With each pass of your hand you feel the veins protruding slightly through his skin and make sure to add slightly more pressure to the ring underneath his tip—he seemed to like that in particular.

“Just like that—fuck, attagirl,” he breathes through gritted teeth while he stares down at your smaller fingers wrapped snugly around him. The praise courses through you and you hide your face in his neck. You place sloppy kisses under his jaw and listen as more grunts start to fall from his parted lips. They slowly twist into a new sound and it takes you a second to realize it’s your name that’s coming out in a twisted groan. You glance down and watch as he raises his hips for a moment to chase after the feeling of you, his orgasm following soon after.

One long moan falls from him as warmth spills over your hands. You make sure not to miss a single second and don’t dare slow down or pull away. You want Frank to feel as good as possible and so you’ll drag this out for as long as you can. White begins to coat his head and the rest of his length as you continue moving over him. It isn’t until he reaches for your wrist that you take notice of the way his thigh is tense and you let go to give him some relief.

“T…That’s enough,” he pants as he speaks through uneven breathing. You mumble an apology as you snuggle into his side again, leaving the remainder of your kisses on his collarbone. His hand rubs at your back while he regains his breath and you feel him press his lips to your forehead. 

“Jesus Christ,” he whispers, and you follow his gaze to the mess in his lap. His cock lies on his hip, all spent and giving a weak twitch once or twice. You don’t even try to hide the smile that grows on your face at the sight.

“Oh, you proud of yourself, huh?” he asks through a fit of chuckles. “You should be,” he holds you to his side again. “Did so fuckin’ good.” You feel another long kiss to the side of your head. Pride isn’t even a strong enough word to describe how you feel at this moment.

“Thank you, Frank,” you smile up at him.

“Thank me? Nah, you did all that,” he brushes it off just like last time. “Thank you for making me feel good, kid. You were absolutely perfect.” The warmth spreading to your cheeks makes you hide your face in his chest again. You weren’t really sure how a scene like this was supposed to normally end, but Frank doesn’t say anything more. He keeps you close in his arms and you can still hear his pulse attempting to slow in his chest. For now, you don’t want to question what comes next; for once, you’re comfortable exactly where you are.

Taglist: @chellestrash @avengerstower-houseplant @musicals-and-mermaids @castle-of-ruin @justalittlepickle @boo8008 @doublevirgogirl @xxdrixx @yaminax @nabiiturner @imwaytoolazyforthis @vechkinfan @himesuedi @0-goblin-0 @soleilcastle @innebulae @punishersmainchick @eddiemunsonsbelover @tea-drinking-nerd

[yashirawr]

katsuki, shouto and izuku with a reader who is like giselle from enchanted !!

bnha main three x gn!giselle!reader.

type: headcanons, fluff (& a splash of angst if you squint reaaaally hard)

warnings: kissing, a bit of cursing bc bakugou is here but otherwise so much fluffy fluff ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ reader's quirk is not mentioned per se.

a/n: hi, sweet people !! i've been practicing my english skills to write and expand my vocabulary but i'm still not quite good, so i apologize if you see something misspelled :c i accept criticism !! ok, so, yesterday i saw enchanted and disenchanted and realized how much i wanna be like giselle haha and when i looked for fanfiction with a giselle-like reader i was left heartbroken since i didn't find any TT so i took it upon myself to write something, hope you like this <3

♡ ୭̥ ° bakugo katsuki

this boy is known for showing his hate for sweet things, yet no one – not even him – is able to comprehend why you're the exception.

since the first day of school he can tell you're going to be more annoying than all the other extras. randomly humming and singing, using smooth arm movements as if you came from a fairytale.

you look harmless, a stupid pushover. his only comfort is that you won't get in his way.

or that's what he thinks.

because with time, he starts seeing more of you. his gaze starts to linger whenever you're around, putting careful attention to your actions, your expressions. wide eyes and radiant smile, always trying to spread kindness and love, so genuine; you're like an open book.

katsuki's rough, katsuki's loud, katsuki's explosive.

so imagine his surprise when he realizes with time that the sight of you makes his eyes soften, his chest warm, his guard drop.

he wants to deny it, he wants to deny it very strongly. however, everyone can tell how, little by little, he starts to open up to you.

he lets you be closer, so vivid around him. you can do things that others would get yelled at for trying. when did anyone see somebody getting into bakugou's personal space – whether it is laying on his shoulder or playing with his hair – and leave unharmed? when did anyone see somebody using his stuff and not recieving any kind of ill treatment for doing so?

the two of you start spending time together, much to his dismay because of your classmates' teasing. yet it takes you being in danger during a villain attack for katsuki to realize how deep his feelings are.

oh, no– he's falling in love.

and he goes livid. he might seem like someone who already acts recklessly during combat but that's not the truth at all. the want, the need to take you into his arms and protect you is what leads him to take such impulsive decisions.

don't get him wrong, he knows you can defend yourself; you're just as much of a badass as you are of an optimist, after all.

but it's this side you bring out of him. this soft, tender side.

it drives him crazy.

so, once the horror passes and your class settles into its usual endeavors, he does what he knows best: he tries to push you. he tries to make you leave, to scare you off.

but why aren't you running away?

why are you cradling his face with a gentle, loving touch?

one thing leads to the other and your lips meet in a true love's kiss, as you would say.

after that, katsuki resigns to listening to your rambling about animals and love and flowers–

he's there to give you a reality check when it's needed, anyway.

"get out of that pretty little head of yours, dumbass, there's fucking homework to do"

yeah, he wouldn't have it any other way.

bonus: you're literally a grumpy x sunshine pairing !! it's hilarious to see you two in the common room because katsuki seems to hold back in showing physical affection or any state of flusteredness. you learned not to demand it from him, either, because he always gets red and would hate for anyone else other than you to see it. it's alright, though, because as soon as you're alone he turns into a clingy puppy. good luck trying to get rid of him to do something just as brief as going to the bathroom !!

♡ ୭̥ ° todoroki shouto

shouto's life has never been any sort of fairytale. all that love chitchat... yeah, pretty much false.

but then he meets you, and you're so eager to show him.

so you start sticking to him, following him around. it could look like pestering for some people, but to shouto?

oh, shouto's charmed by you.

it takes him some time. before the sports festival, he couldn't help but give you cold stares and dry replies. of course, your enthusiastic self would take all of that without complaining.

but it is after the event that he starts to open his eyes and contemplate a little more of you. especially after you compliment his quirk and express how happy you are for him, for truly giving his all during the fights and making use of his fire.

another element, you said, that was part of him and needed to be seen. you mentioned how you believed in him, warm smile painted on your lips as you beamed with joy.

there was no way he would get his eyes off of you after that.

although shouto is quiet, his gaze is intense. thankfully you're unaware of such things – trained to being accostumed to stares by your whole life experience – so you can't tell how the next days he's so entranced by you and the way you carry yourself so gracefully.

you see beauty everywhere, often even stopping in your tracks to observe your surroundings. you seem to shine, delighted.

too occupied by twirling around and interacting with everyone around you, you fail to notice how he's softly smiling at the sight.

as time passes, your conversations stop being one-sided. his replies show more interest, it's not only about his gaze anymore but also about the way he accepts all your affections; melting into your touch.

the way he's always there to protect you when villain attacks happen, when anyone looks at you the wrong way or tries to talk to you in as much as a slightly rude tone. the way he comforts you whenever you're sensitive about something, never questioning where did it come from.

you're his top priority.

so when you share a first kiss, he feels his heart pumping so hard it could jump right off his chest. this unknown feeling, leading him to be so attached to you, was love all this time.

you were right about showing him, he figures.

because now holding your hand gives him so much happiness that he now kind of gets why you're so enthusiastic about said concept.

when you go on one of your rambles about it and ask him, "right?" he smiles at you and responds:

"yes, my love, i think i know now"

you smile at him, so widely as you always do, and he leans in to leave a kiss on your forehead.

bonus: when he tells you his family story for the first time, you cry. you cry so much until you feel his strong arms wrap around you. yet shouto, despite trying to comfort you since you were the one crying, feels as if your embrace comforts him. you hug him by the waist, rubbing his back so gently and carefully that it brings tears to his eyes. everyday he feels more enamoured by you.

♡ ୭̥ ° midoriya izuku

you meet for the first time with izuku because of bumping into him during the quirk's test on the first day of class. he falls and you crouch along with him, soft-spokenly apologizing and asking if he's alright.

as he looks up at you, the boy can only think of how you look exactly like an angel.

you best believe our baby broccoli blushes furiously to his ears.

it doesn't take you anything to become friends and when you do he realizes that, despite both of you being pretty positive people, you have very different ways of thinking.

everything to you is magical, wonderful, exciting. izuku learned this from only the first few days of knowing you, and he found it really beautiful and encouraging. it was something to admire you for, and it never failed to impress him the way you would always be open to new opportunities, grateful for every single one you were given.

similarly, nothing to you was ever a problem! so when izuku rambled about his past, his difficulties with his quirk and worries you always found a way to make his point of view shift 180° and move on to positive thoughts.

in a world where he's exposed to so much pressure, you act as a beacon of life that peaks through the darkness.

and so, you're with him every step of the way.

he doesn't even know when his love for you starts blooming, especially since he has such a focus on heroics that doesn't usually let him think about anything else. but when he finds himself dreaming about your bright smile, mumbling as he watches you from afar sing to happy little animals you encountered, blushing to the tips of his ears by only hearing you say his name with so much care and glee–

he realizes too late he's down bad. in fact, he's the last one to realize, since the whole class watches in horror as you two interact so lovingly with each other as almost second nature.

mina has the theory that the two of you are secretly together, but it is obvious for everyone that if you two really were, you would be shouting it to the four winds. that's just who you are, and that's just how they know izuku loves you.

of course, you're the first one to make a move.

you go up to him before class one random morning and ask him if he would like to go out on friday afternoon. he accepts at first, smiling widely at you and you respond with a bubbly "alright then! it's a date!"

his face seemed to turn all shades of red and even go through some other colors before digesting that information.

"a-a d-date with me...?" he lifts a finger, you hum in amusement.

"of course, silly. i'd want no other prince for me but you."

needless to say, it goes amazingly and now the class has to deal with you giving him little pecks on his lips, cheeks and hands as he turns red because of the sudden affection.

bonus: in his notebook page about your quirk he has written a whole analysis of how you and your voice are appealing to animals and what does that have to do with it. he even tried talking about it to you, but your reply was: "i'm not quite sure, but i can only be grateful about them! they are my friends and i'm truly fortunate for their company!"

[vivalas-vega]

will you marry me? // dagger squad x reader

howdy y'all !!! this was a random idea I had well over a year ago that I never actually finished and just found when clearing out my wips and thought it would be a fun little thing to post, so please enjoy the dagger squad and what engagement ring I think they'd pick !!! I didn’t even intend for it to be a recurring thing that the proposals don’t go to plan or are silly but I guess it’s just on brand for them lmao

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

this man is all about the classics - I mean, look at his bronco... he wanted to get you something simple with a bit of a modern twist. he's also a very sentimental man. he'd play it casual all week leading up to date night but surprise you by taking you to where you had your first date, whether that's a restaurant or a bar or the beach, and after the most perfect evening he'd propose with his mom's ring. because he's bradley and incredibly thoughtful, he'd also want you to have a ring that's only yours and I think he'd surprise you with that one randomly -- maybe after celebrating the engagement in bed that night, or the next morning over breakfast. you end up wearing Carole’s ring on your right hand (sometimes putting it around a necklace of hers Bradley also gifted you when you want to keep it extra safe) and your new ring on your left.

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

Jake is all flash, but that doesn't mean he lacks substance. he scours your pinterest board for weeks and asks all your closest friends for their input, but at the end of the day he trusts himself to get it right because he knows you like the back of his hand. you deserve only the best, and he wants you to park your pretty butt on the beach when he's flying by and to be able to catch a glare from the rock he put on your finger. he'd either propose in the ice cream aisle at the grocery store (which surprises him as much as you) after watching you hem and haw over which flavor to get and deciding to get all three - or, he'd go all out and plan the perfect vacation to a destination that's been on your bucket list and research the most romantic spot in the whole country and really there's no in between.

Robert 'Bob' Floyd

our sweet man of few, but impactful, words. his ring choice and proposal is no different. he wants to get you something beautiful and unique, but neither one of you are known for being frivolous. he picks something modest that shows how well he knows you and how much he loves you. something about him screams christmas proposal - either at his family's snowy farm early in the morning before anyone has a chance to sweep you up in the festivities or in your shared home before heading to Mav and Penny's holiday dinner. either way, its just the two of you wrapped in your own bubble and you tease that Bob should be writing the proposals for hallmark movies because what he says is so perfect. you'd open a suspiciously wrapped gift you think is the worlds lightest pair of shoes but to your shock you find a ring, and Bob always regrets not setting up a camera to capture the priceless look on your face.

Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace

Natasha never thought she was one for marrying until she met you, and she'd definitely get you something beautiful and intricate without sacrificing delicacy. she'd plan the perfect evening in and cook your favorite meal, but absolutely ruin your favorite cookies and while she's flustered and panicking over a sheet of what looks like coal you're just laughing and gazing at her with this dumbstruck look that translates to you're such an idiot and I'm so in love with you and when she catches it she can't help herself and it just flies out, really she nearly yells and you're just standing watching her fumble to get the ring out her pocket not realizing you'd already said yes before you even saw it.

Javy 'Coyote' Machado

Much like Jake, he wants to get you something flashy but he was drawn to this one in particular because the band reminded him of airplane wings and he liked the idea of you not only having a token of his love on your hand every day he's on deployment, but one that has a little piece of his second love too. I think he'd definitely plan a big elaborate proposal but Jake's got a big mouth and didn't know you were at the bar and asks if he popped the question, only to see horror on Javy's face and you standing right behind him so he was really forced into it but of course you said yes because it was chaotic and imperfect and everything you could ever want.

Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia

Mickey would definitely want to get you something a little funky - neither one of you are known for being super traditional, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want you to have the perfect ring. true to his nature as soon as it's in his possession he's a little too excited to wait to plan something out and while you're all snuggled up watching star wars for the hundreth time he just blurts out that wants to marry you and when you look at him in shock he thinks he's ruined it and offended you by not doing it properly but once you get your wits about you all you can say is 'of course I'll marry you, you big idiot'

Reuben 'Payback' Fitch

I think Reuben leans more towards the classics as well, but with a little something extra. your relationship has always been sweet and fun and lighthearted, and your proposal is exactly the same. he takes you to the putt putt course you had your first date at and proposes in front of the windmill, and you can't keep it together long enough to say yes because he dropped the ring in the hole and even when he retrieves it your 'yes' is hard to decipher around all your laughing.