#cause it would be fun and he could sing and he’d look like a green firefighter that glows in the dark uwu

[emeraldbabygirl]

Hikaru in the (I’m assuming it’s some firefighter drama) and boy does it remind me of that one spicy anime I watched but anyway! The female lead is so tiny compared to Hikaru and the photoshoot was so cute esp when he picked her up bridal style 🥺 I love when there’s a noticeable difference in height between the male lead and female lead it’s so f heckin cute 🥺

[sukaaxo]

my hot take is imagine that Rhys didn’t suddenly turn into the good guy with reasoning for all is actions…… but Feyre turned into a villain so it all BECAME justified in her mind.

just think, last chapter of the last book and it’s just Rhys’s pov as he’s being crowned High King, congratulating himself on how well he manipulated everyone into thinking he was a good guy.

something like:

***

Feyre sat by my side looking down at the fae lingering below, her excitement and happiness seeping through the bond and battling with mine. Except my happiness obviously wasn’t for the same reasons. Sweet Feyre. Sweet oblivious Feyre. Her hand gripped mine and she turned her shining eyes and soft smile my way. I properly studied her. Looked deep into her face. She’s rather plain i realised, plainest of the 3 sisters. Indeed rather boring compared to the fae females i’ve come across in my years, fucked in my years. Even Nesta’s cold but ereatheral looks caused more lust in me, her power especially made my soul sing and i knew i would’ve had a fun time pinning her beneath me. Unfortunately the Mother fated her to another. Jolting out my thoughts at the squeeze of my hand, I eventually returned a smile to Feyre but it felt more like a grimace and must’ve shown as her grin faltered and eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“Rhys….. are you ok?” her voice filtered into my mind and i just looked away, not bothering to pretend anymore as i let my disgust and mockery at her fly down our bond. She gasped as it hit her, visibly recoiling away from me with tears in her eyes. Cassian moved to her side in a flash, hand on his sword sheath, scanning for whatever he thought had affected her enough to make her flinch. Even though i had no use for my ‘brothers’ anymore i felt i would miss them. I had grown to look upon them fondly and even at times felt a bang of guilt at lying so easily to them. Maybe i could convince them to follow me. Cassian looked worriedly between me and my so called High Lady, i scoffed internally at the thought, before locking eyes with me confused, mouth opening to say something but before he could the crowd hushed and i turned back towards them.

I looked across at the High Lords all seated, all sensing a change in the air as my walls lowered. The only one staring at me without movement or worry was Tamlin. Tamlin. The thorn in my side throughout my years. He was always there foiling my words. He never believed my stories, never believed my lies about UTM, peace and prosperity. Never believed my participation in the War on the side of Prythian. The only fae i grew to respect and even admire. We would’ve been unstoppable if he’d been by my side, he being both the youngest and most powerful Spring High Lord to exist. Alas, once he figured out that it was me who set up the murder of my entire family and his, he refused every attempt at contact i tried. That…. hurt. However now that i no longer needed to pretend i cared about the snivelling wretch in the chair next to me, maybe we could re connect. I locked eyes with him and could almost see their green narrow like a snake my way and i felt his magic slither out, tasting mine in the air. The corners of his mouth turned up as he felt my truth, finally. I raised an eyebrow ever so slightly at him and suddenly he was gone. Vanished into his winnow. But the tilt of his head in my direction as he left gave me hope. We would be friends once again.

The other High Lords jumped up, turning to where Tamlin had disappeared and staring at me in a panic but it was too late. The crown landed on my head, the High King power suddenly coursing through my veins making me take a deep breath in. The fear and regret on everyone’s faces as i finally unleashed my dark aura was pleasurable.

A familiar slow smirk spread onto my face,

“Let’s begin”

***

[thetarttfuldickhead]

A Jamie-centric pre-OT3 Christmas story told in 25 short chapters.

Masterpost / AO3

24.

Due to lucky timing or – more likely – a long-honed sense for when Jamie and Georgie were ready to be interrupted, Simon stepped into the sitting room to announced that dinner was ready about half a minute after the hour-long, and occasionally weepy, talk was winding down to general cuddles.

Jamie got up to greet him with genuine enthusiasm. He’d already moved out by the time Simon moved in, but he liked the man well enough. He’d been dead good for Mummy, and Simon had always been decent about giving her and Jamie space, never seeming to mind that Georgie tended to focus all of her attention on Jamie whenever he was around. Which was only natural, given that Jamie was her only son and a fucking great one at that, but some men might have been pissy about it, so Jamie was still glad Simon wasn’t one of those.

“Tried to make a few extra sides that won’t mess with your meal plan, I know you’ve got a game tomorrow,” Simon said as he ushered them towards the carefully set table.

They’d gotten a new cloth since the last time Jamie was here for Christmas, a rustic looking light grey number, but the pink plates with a pattern of golden Christmas trees around the edge were the same ones Jamie had given her when he was 17. Simon had matched them with green napkins, intricately folded around small golden sprigs of plastic mistletoe, and pink and gold ornaments scattered across the table.

“That’s nice, that,” Jamie said, because it was, and Simon beamed at him.

The dinner was nice, too, the traditional turkey and trimmings complemented, for Jamie’s benefit, with a French omelette with smoked haddock, a large salad, and a small bowl of liberally spiced brown rice. It took Mummy most of the meal to fill Jamie in on all the latest neighbourhood gossip, but there was a fair bit of chatter about football as well, and a couple of minutes devoted to Simon’s new knife set. It was fun, and easy, and by the time Simon got up to put the kettle on and Jamie went out into the hall to collect the bag of gifts he’d brought, Jamie was feeling more relaxed (and fuller) than he could remember doing in… well. A fucking long time.

As they settled on the couch with their tea cups, small glasses of mulled cherry wine and a frankly shocking array of sweets (of which Jamie allowed himself exactly one small slice of candied orange dipped in chocolate and sprinkled with sea salt), Mummy fretted slightly over not having any proper gifts for him there. “We had them sent over your place, since we didn’t think you were coming. I’m sorry, love.”

“No, yeah, I know, got them last night. Haven’t opened them yet, though, ‘cause, uh, I wanted to see you first.”

She smiled, and pulled him close to smack her lips against the top of his hair. “Do it first thing when you get home, and every last one of them will be a kiss from me.”

“I will, Mummy.” He’d be getting home after midnight, and by rights should head straight for bed to make sure he was in good shape for tomorrow’s game, but knew he would take the time to unpack the carefully wrapped parcels. Knew his mum would likely be up and ready to respond to any excited reaction texts he might send.

Jamie apologised for the randomness of the gifts, sheepishly admitting that he’d spent too much time getting Roy stuff to think much about anyone else; they waved away his regrets and oooh:ed and aaah:ed enthusiastically at the blanket (Georgie), the cookbook (Simon), the weekend getaway in Cornwall (both of them), and the other things Jamie had picked up rather hurriedly yesterday.

Merry Christmas (I don’t want to fight tonight) came on. Grinning cheekily, Mummy got to her feet, pulling Jamie up with her as she went, and then they were dancing all across the sitting room, laughing and loudly singing along, the way they’d always done when Jamie was a kid.

“Oh, baby, you’ve gotten dead good at this,” Mummy said a little breathlessly after Jamie had spun her round in a complicated twirl, and he nodded, pleased that she’d noticed his mad moves. “I’m a footballer, ain’t I. Gotta be quick on me feet.”

The song ended and the far slower Have yourself a merry little Christmas began to play. Jamie released his mum to Simon, and as the two of them swayed slowly to Judy Garland’s soft crooning, Jamie took the opportunity to sneak away for a bit, going up the stairs to his old room. It looked pretty much exactly the way he’d left it when he moved into the Academy residence. Mummy (or Simon, probably) kept it clean, but hadn’t moved any of his stuff or done anything about the general messiness of the room. Only the Keeley poster had been a later addition, and only because having semi-nudes up at his academy room had been frowned upon and he’d still been minding the rules back then.

Mad, to think that he’d ended up dating her. Mad, that he’d played with Roy Kent, the one player whose poster he’d never taken down (although he’d come close, the first time he was back home after joining Richmond and Roy had proved to be a massive cunt, but it had felt like letting Roy win somehow, so it had stayed up).

Madder still, that only two nights ago he’d been curled up with both of them on a couch in Roy Kent’s house.

Grinning, he pulled out his phone and called Keeley. Yes, it was late and it was Christmas and it might be a prick thing to do, interrupting whatever celebration they had going, but as much as he was trying to be better, Jamie hadn’t gotten to where he was by not going after what he wanted. Besides, they’d want to know how things had gone, wouldn’t they? Keeley would, at any rate.

His assumption turned out to be correct because Keeley not only picked up, but smiled like she couldn’t be happier to hear from him. “Jamie, hi! You doing all right? Are you up in Manchester?”

“Hi, Keeley. Yeah, I am, yeah.” He paused, taking a moment to just look at her, taking in the loveliness of her face, before adding, “Talked to me mum. It went great. I mean, I was a bit nervous, but it went great, yeah, so it’s all good now.”

“Yeah?” Her smile softened. “That’s amazing, Jamie. Really glad to hear that.”

“Yeah. So, uh, I just wanted to call to tell you and, and, say thanks, I guess. For, you know, telling me I needed to go here. And, uh, merry Christmas.”

“You’re welcome, Jamie. Merry Christmas.”

“Oi!” Roy’s voice, off-camera and sounding unusually high over the speakers. “Keeley, do— Oh, sorry, didn’t realise you were on the phone.” A pause. “That Jamie?”

“Yeah. He’s up in Manchester, come say hi.” Keeley shifted a bit, angling her phone to include Roy in the picture.

Jamie raised an eyebrow. Roy must really be into Christmas, because he was actually wearing a patterned tie with his black shirt and black suit jacket. A dark patterned tie, admittedly, but it had got little golden dots on it, which was far more festive than Jamie would have thought Roy could ever manage.

Then again, he’d had to rethink a lot of his thoughts on Roy in the past two days.

“Hi,” Roy said, sounding… not unsure, exactly, but… not not unsure either. A little reserved, but in a way Jamie, canny reader of people that he was, suspected had more to do with uncertainty over their new relationship status, rather than any real desire to be an arse.

Jamie didn’t blame him. He was feeling a little uncertain himself (which was still a new and not particularly fun experience). Things had changed between them since Roy rushed in to find him crumpled on the floor—but how exactly, and into what?

He guessed they’d find out, and fuck, wasn’t that an interesting thought?

“Hi,” he said. “Merry Christmas. You enjoying the holiday, yeah?” He nodded towards the tie, smirking just a little. (It was a decent tie. Roy looked well fit in it. But if the man didn’t want people taking the piss when he donned a bit of colour he shouldn’t make such a point of always wearing black then, should he?)

Roy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’m loving it. Spent the afternoon knocking on random doors looking for a dentist for my niece, that was a fucking riot. And,” he continued before Jamie had the chance to ask what the hell he was on about, “some nitwit had this John Case box set delivered to my door this morning, because apparently some people have no idea when to fucking quit.”

“Yeah?” Jamie asked, unable to hold back a grin, because while Roy’s word had been gruff, there was a small smile in his eyes that said that they weren’t really. “Think that sounds like great gift, mate. Real thoughtful, like.”

Roy just snorted, but Keeley was clearly holding back a laugh, her eyes shining as they wandered between Jamie on her screen and Roy.

“It’s the last of them,” Jamie promised, just in case Roy actually thought he’d be keeping this up forever from now on. “But I’d already gotten it, so… “ He shrugged.

“It’s fine,” Roy said, then added off Keeley’s not at all discreet elbow to his side, “I mean, thank you.”

Jamie was about to tell him not to overdo it or he’d burst vessel or something, but was interrupted by his mum calling his name from downstairs. “Sorry,” he said. “Gotta go. Be heading back in thirty minutes, so I wanna make the most of it, right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Keeley immediately said (almost covering Roy’s muttered we’re really not stopping you). “Go. And good luck with the game tomorrow, yeah? I’ll be in the box with Rebecca, cheering you on.”

“Decent, yeah. Um, thanks again. Merry Christmas.”

As he moved to end the call, Roy suddenly said, “Jamie, wait.”

Jamie waited. And waited, because whatever it was that Roy had on his mind, he apparently had a hard fucking time getting it out of his mouth.

Eventually, Jamie’s patience wore thin. “Mate, I’m not being funny, yeah. I really gotta go. You maybe wanna send me a fax instead?”

“Oh, that’s very funny,” Roy growled. “The fuck happened to you not being a prick, huh?” Then he made a face, looking pained. “Actually, and I can’t fucking believe I’m about to say this, but maybe sometimes you need to be a prick. Not to people,” he added with narrowed eyes, having apparently caught the way Jamie lit up at that, “but on the fucking pitch. I mean, sometimes. Not all the time. But sometimes, being selfish and going for the shot and getting in the other players heads by being an utter cunt like only you fucking can is better than passing the ball.”

Jamie gaped at him, but before he had time to say anything or ask how the hell he was supposed to know when it was the right time to be a prick, Roy muttered a curt, “That’s it. Bye,” and ended the call.

“Um, rude,” Jamie told the black screen. He was half tempted to call Keeley again, just to tell her bye properly (and maybe tell Roy… something, Jamie wasn’t totally clear on what, because Roy had been rude, but he’d also told Jamie to be a prick sometimes, and had almost smiled at him several times, and that was all just a bit confusing), but he hadn’t lied when he said he wanted to make the most of his time with Mummy before he needed to leave for London again.

“We’re not done, mate,” he told poster-Roy sternly, before adding a far softer, “Good night, Keeley,” to poster-Keeley

And then he headed downstairs, back to Mummy and the rest of his Christmas, and then – when he’d hugged her ten times or a hundred – he headed to London, back to his team and the rest of his life, and it came to him as he sat on the train with the midwinter night speeding past him, that he was travelling both from home and to home and that it was well fucking mint.

[hanahaki-ghost]

I wrote another thing this time for soldiers of hate au

Characters:hero and RGB

Summary: Being trapped by hate in a cage waiting for her to decide what she wants to do with them, RGB tries to reassure hero that no matter what happens she will be ok in the end he’ll make sure if it.

Words:590

———story on here———

It was a bright void, RGB was sitting in a cage a small child close to his chest. He gently carded his hand through her hair trying to offer any comfort he could, it was his fault they were here anyways.

Blue and yellow dripped from his test bar as the girl held onto him scared for what would happen to them next. He had a plan though, it may not be perfect but it would save hero from any further pain hate could put her through hopefully.

“It will be alright” he said softly to her as he tried to think of a good way to comfort her.

As he thought he finally came up with something while hero clung to him tightly face hidden against his chest.

“It always seem more quiet…in the dark” he started singing softly and he felt Hero shift against him looking up at him curiously as to what he was doing.

“It always feels so stark…How silence grows under the moon. Constellations gone so soon…” Hero seemed to relax a bit focus her attention in his soft gentle singing voice instead of their situation.

“I used to think that I was bold.” This earned a small giggle from Hero making his test bar quirk up a bit.

“I used to think love would be fun” he thought back to Madras and Magnus he wish he could’ve changed things between him and Magnus before this. He wished he had been a. Better partner for madras.

“Now all my stories have been told. Except for one.” As he sang the last part he gently brushed some of hero’s white hair from her face looking down at her earning a soft smile from the child.

“As the stars start to align…I hope you take it as a sign that you’ll be okay…everything will be ok” he was only trying to use music to soothe her but let her know what ever happened she would be ok. He would make sure of it.

“And if make believe does die although the day could be my last…you will be okay, when I’m gone you’ll be ok” he sang hearing her yawn as she snuggled close and he didn’t bother moving her away even if she did decide to dream on him. For now He’d hold her as long as he could to ensure her safety and let her now she would not be hurt even if something happened to him.

“And when creation goes to die, you can find me in the sky, upon the last day…” he sang softly looking as she gradually started to slip into sleep finally starting to calm down after everything they’ve been through recently causing him to smile softly and run a gloves hand through her hair.

“And you will be okay…” he sang but meant it more like a promise as he shifted so she could get comfortable against him.

“Night dad” she said softly as she fell asleep against him. Green and blue and yellow all dropped from his screen.

“Good night my sweet hero” he says softly pressing the bottom of his screen to the top of her head. He’s never admit it out loud…but he had grown attached and he would do anything to ensure this child’s safety even if it coast his own being.

He was worried about what they would face tomorrow but for now he’s hold her close and ensure her that she would be ok no matter what.

[lottiebagleywritesobx]

Girls like you

THE POOL

JJ Maybank wasn't really sure why the Y/L/N family had hired him to clean out their pool when summer started. They seemed to like him around the hotel when they went for meals but he wasn't exactly qualified, he wasn't complaining though, they tip well and it couldn't be that hard.

His only problem was Y/N.

They never got on well. She was friends with Kie in her kook year, who even went as far as to dub her 'the only kook who doesn't make me want to gauge my eyes out', so she knew the pogues from around although they'd grown apart the girls shared no bad blood and always stopped to catch up when they saw each other around.

He was in the middle of raking the leaves from the large pool when he saw her. She was crossing the garden from the large mansion, clad in a bikini with sunglasses perched on the end of her nose. JJ hates how good she looks, her curves perfectly on display and a confident aura around her.

She's got headphones in, he notices as she saunters closer.

"Hi princess," He smirks, watching as she rolls her eyes

"I'm not your princess. How long are you gonna be?" She questions, settling onto one of the sun loungers next to the pool

"An hour or so," JJ states

"Well, could you do it quietly I'm hungover and I wanna just relax," She states, slipping the second headphone back into her ear before he can reply.

He cleans, unaware of her watching him from behind the glasses as she sips on her bottle of cold water. She would never tell anyone but watching him work, his muscles tensing and untensing under his vest shirt, a light sweat from the hot summer day on his skin, she couldn't help herself from thinking he looked good.

He would definitely admit to John B that he thought she looked fit. Her breasts spilling out of her bikini top a little and the barely there thong bottom's high cut making her legs look excruciatingly long. He'd probably make some crude jokes about hate sex being way more fun. He wouldn't admit though, to finding something very comforting about her presence, and finding the way she hummed along to whatever she was listening too adorable.

It's a further 40 minutes, JJ is trying to work out how to get the pool vaccuum to turn on, when her phone rings loudly.

"Hey Sare," Her voice speaks. JJ figures quickly it's Sarah Cameron, the pair are practically inseparable and the whole island knows it.

He half listens to her side of the conversation, more out of boredom than interest.

"No, babes, I love you and all but I really don't wanna. The last million times I've seen Rafe he's been so weird and creepy and I don't wanna be alone with him,"

JJ doesn't know why the comment angers him so much. Why does he even care if Rafe is clearly trying to pull her? It's none of his business. Yet, he can feel his blood boiling at the thought.

"No Sar, if I go and you have to stay with me then you can't go and be with Topper,"

She's silent for a few minutes before sighing "Fine. Fine, I'll come. See you in a minute. Bring me some shorts, I'm in the garden and can't be arsed to go upstairs and find some. You owe me forever,"

JJ wants to scream. Wants to tell her she shouldn't go if she feels uncomfortable around Kelce. He wishes Kie were here, maybe she could talk her into staying where she felt safe.  Maybe she would be able to explain why JJ even gives a shit.

"Maybank," She states, he looks up, trying to act like he hasn't been listening. "I'm going out. You'll be the only one here," She informs

"Okay," He nods.

"My keys are on the kitchen counter, lock up when you're done and I'll just grab them from you at the hotel,"

"All right," He agrees

"When will you be there?" She questions, looking at him like he's an idiot. He groans internally, obviously she needed to know that.

"Tomorrow, 2 until closing,"

'"I'll swing by around 4," She informs. He nods, trying not to stare at her as she lets her hair down from the ponytail it had been in, shaking it out. A car honks outside and she turns, walking up the garden towards the side gates, turning a few metres away,

"Oh, there's an envelope on the kitchen counter with your tip in," She adds

"Thanks. Goodbye princess," He smiles,

"Still not your princess," she shouts back, turning and disappearing round the corner.

THE CAR

JJ felt a lot more in his element when her dad had called him asking if he could fix her car. He hadn't specified it was his eldest daughters, and JJ knew the family owned 7 cards despite only 3 of them even being able to drive.

JJ recognised it though, a white convertible porsche, he'd seen her driving it around before. Wether she was blasting music with the roof down singing with Sarah, picking up a take out from the wreck, driving around in the middle of the night, she'd even given Kie a lift to the Chateau before. He realised that he always seemed to notice her presence.

He was working in the family's garage, the bonnet popped open and grease all over him. It was an easy fix, if a little fiddly.

He jumped out of his skin when the door burst open.  He is immediately taken aback by how good she looks. Clad in a tight black skirt that is ridiculously short, heels and a tight black V neck top with a lace trim around the neck. Her hair falls in bouncy curls around her shoulders and her makeup looks perfect. He would have sworn on everything he'd never seen anyone look so beautiful.

"You're a boy," The girl states.

"Good job noticing that one princess," JJ smirks, she rolls her eyes.

"I have a date and Sarah is being so unhelpful, can you help me pick a top?" She questions, he gulps, nodding.

"Okay, so this is option 1,"

"It looks good,"

"Right. But is it sexy? Do you look at me and think I wanna slam her against a wall and rail her?"

His eyes widen a little, that's one way of putting it he decides.

"Look, I'm your families help, I shouldn't be answering that,"

"Like I care Maybank," She groans, exasperated.

"Okay fine, I look at you in that and I think I wanna rip your clothes off,"

"Okay good. Option 2," She starts. JJ is shocked when she pulls her top off in front of him, without even turning around. He turns around, although not without taking a mental picture of her boobs being pushed up in a red lace bra. "Who knew you were a prude?"

"Just respecting you princess," He comments

"You've seen me in a bikini, what's the difference?" She questions, he stays silent having no quick comment to respond with. "I'm dressed," She states

He turns back around, she looks good, a forest green top made of satin.

"The first one is sexy, that one is cute,"

"Thanks JJ, oh, and hey, thanks for fixing my car,"

"Uh. Yeah, anytime,"

THE SUMMER HOUSE

JJ was happy to paint the summer house. He claimed to his friends it was just because they way over paid and tipped big. In reality it was because for three days straight he would get to catch glimpses of her. And he did.

He saw her when she swam in her pool.

He saw her when she played in the garden with her little sister.

He saw her when she cloud gazed with Sarah Cameron.

The best times he got to see her though, were when she would bring him stuff. Every so often she'd knock on the open door to the summer house, sometimes with water, sometimes with snacks, a few times even with a beer. A couple of times she stopped and made small talk, one time she even smeared paint on his cheek and giggled as he chased her through the garden.

He enters the kitchen, used to how the family worked now. An envelope of money waiting on the kitchen counter, they always seemed to be coming and going so it was easier.

He was shocked to see her in the kitchen, she's scrolling on her phone sipping on what looks to be an iced coffee

"Oh, hey JJ," She smiles

"Hey, I'm done," he informs, she nods, watching as he picks up the envelope "So, I'll be seeing you around,"

"Did you want a lift?" She questions, he looks at her slightly confused "I just noticed your bike wasn't here and it's kinda late to be walking back. It's a long walk,"

"You really don't have to princess,"

"Honestly, it's fine," she assures, jumping up and grabbing her keys before heading towards the garage.

She wasn't sure when she stopped hating JJ Maybank, wasn't sure when she started noticing little things like the blue in his eyes and which snapback he was wearing and how tired he looked. She wasn't sure when the sight of his bike in the driveway started giving her butterflies.

"So where is your bike?" She questions, the roof of the car is down and the wind blowing through her hair as she pulls out of the private estate her home is on.

"Didn't have enough fuel to get to yours and back," He shrugs

"Why didn't you just-" She cuts herself off "Shit, I'm so sorry. That was insanely rude, I wasn't even thinking and-" He chuckles, watching as she splutters and blushes

"It's okay. Life is different on the cut I can understand how a kook princess wouldn't get it," He shrugs, she nods, still not sure what to say.

"Y'know my life isn't perfect," She comments, he scoffs, unable to help himself. "I'm not kidding. It's privileged as fuck, I know that, but it's not perfect,"

"Go on then princess, what's so shit?" He doesn't mean for it to sound so harsh, he's genuinely curious

"My parents, they have basically planned my entire life, down to where I'll go to college, what sorority I'll be in, where I'll work my summer internship, who I'll marry, where I'll get married, which big kook house I'll live in,  at what age I'll have to give up my career, which has been decided for me by them, to start trying for babies. It's 24 by the way so in 8 years. My whole life is decided and I don't want it. I wanna go on a trip around the world and surf and travel and explore. I wanna fall in love and get my heartbroken again and again until I find the right guy. I wanna live in a New York apartment and I wanna see the world. I don't wanna marry Rafe Cameron just cause our mothers are friends. I mean he's literally scary and harasses me and acts like even though I'm 16 I shouldn't have a choice cause one day he'll father my kids. And no one gets it, none of my friends, not even my best friend. The only person who ever understood why it was so shit was Kie and then she left, she left and lives her life and it's fun and exciting and anything could happen. I don't hate her for it but it fucking sucks that she left me miserable. I'll be miserable living my planned out life and then I'll die. Yeah, I have money and that's fucking great, but my life is far from perfect,"

JJ sits in a stunned silence. He's not really sure what to say. Their problems were very different but hers were just as shitty. He feels like he's seeing her in a whole new light.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I don't tell people that and we barely no each other," She mutters, not wanting to look at him

"Where would you go first?" His question surprised her

"On my fictitious surf trip?" She questions, he nods "Europe, Spain I think,"

They sit in silence the rest of the way, it's not awkward though, both of them feel comforted by each other presence. He gives her instructions to the chateau.

"We are probably gonna drink some beers and smoke. You wanna stay? You could crash here and drive home in the morning," JJ offers

"I can't. My family are having dinner at the hotel. Thanks though," She smiles gently

"Yeah. Uh, I hope it's not too shit. Thanks for the ride princess,"

He climbs out of the car, his friends who sit on the porch immediately calling out to him, they're all laughing and teasing him about his lift home and when he looks back he almost thinks he sees a look of longing in her eyes before she's reversing out of the chateau.

THE BOAT

"Can you fix it?" She questions. JJ Maybank has never seen her look nervous before.

It was only 6:30 AM when she'd started banging on the door to the Chateau, tears in her eyes and panic on her face hoping JJ would be here. John B had pulled the door open, half asleep and groaning a little at the bright sunlight. He'd let her into the small home and disappeared to wake JJ up. John B opted not to put too much thought into the way the minute her name was said JJ leaped out of bed and shoved into the living area, the way his hands cupped her cheeks to see if she was okay, the way he was calling her princess as he tried to calm down her hiccuping tears.

"I can fix it," He confirms. They're standing on the deck of her families boat "It's an easy fix princess, okay? don't even worry," He speaks in a comforting tone

"Thank you JJ,"

"No worries. It'll take me a while, you got anywhere to be?"

"No. Well yes, a breakfast thing with the Cameron's but it's at my house and I can't exactly show up without the boat so,"

"So you're hiding out here all day?" JJ questions

"Well, I don't wanna intrude. I can go and hang out at the beach,"

"Don't talk nonsense, you can hang here. C'mon, I need to be down the bottom with the engine, you can sit and entertain me,"

She watches intently as he works, now that he's not working at her house he hasn't bothered with a shirt, instead just wearing shorts and his infamous red baseball cap. He glances at her occasionally, her makeup streaky from crying and wearing a short white dress.

"So, wanna tell me what happened?" He questions

"Not really," She admits, he nods and she sighs before beginning to explain"Rafe wanted to go boating late and then it all went wrong and then we got the boat to the nearest dock, hence why we are in the middle of nowhere, and he said he was going to call someone to get a lift and it was rainy so I was waiting in here.  It had been a while so I went outside to check on him and he was gone. I didn't know what to do. Dad would kill me for breaking the boat, do I just kinda figured I'd walk to yours and hopefully you would no how to fix it. Then I realised I have no clue where you live so I walked to John B's and hoped for the best,"

"He just left you in the middle of nowhere alone?" JJ doesn't know why he's so mad, they were hardly even friends

"Yeah. He texted me to let me know it was cause he's already in shit with his dad and didn't wanna go down for breaking my family's boat," She shrugs, JJ wants to go and find Rafe Cameron and beat his skull in.

"Look, a girl like you deserves someone who would treat them a million times better than that,"

"I always thought you hated me," She admits

"So did I, until this summer I kinda did," He shrugs

"What changed?" She asks, the question is so vulnerable he can't help himself from looking at her

"You aren't what I thought you'd be," He admits, she nods slowly

"How should a girl like me be treated?" She questions

"Like they're the only thing on earth," He's not really sure why he's so openly telling her how he feels but it feels too late now

"Is that how you'd treat me Maybank?"

"Girls like you don't date boys like me," He shrugs, turning quickly back to what he's doing, not wanting her to recognise the disappointment on his face.

THE PARTY

It was no secret her family hosted a big formal party on the 10th of July every year, her parents wedding anniversary. JJ had waited the party the last 2 years and this summer was no different, he'd even managed to get John B and Pope a job too.

His heart had stopped when he saw her, her dress was the exact shade of blue as the sky and flowed beautifully down to her feet, her hair curled with the front pinned back, her makeup beautiful. She looked like an angel approaching him and god why did she have to look so perfect.

"Hey JJ," She smiles, grabbing a glass of champagne from the tray he's holding "Could you do me a favour?"

"Of course," He agrees, expecting some job that needed doing for the party

"If you see Rafe and I'm on my own..." She trails off "I'm trying to avoid him, after the other day,"

It's three hours into the party when JJ grabs her hand, pulling her along behind him and away from Rafe who is clearly trying to catch her alone. He pulls her into a small cupboard slamming the door closed behind him and locking it.

"What was that about?"

"Rafe," He shrugs, he didn't outwardly say he'd been watching her all night to make sure he could look out for her. He also didn't say he would have been watching her all night even if she hadn't asked him too.

"JJ, you know how your coming over next week to fix that one  door that you can't open from inside the cupboard?" She question

"Yeah," He states, peering out of the key hole to see if Rafe is still looking for her

"Well, this is the cupboard,"

"Shit!" He shouts, pulling away from the door to face her. "Shit, it's your parents wedding anniversary and I got you locked in the cupboard,"

"It's alright," She shrugs "They hate each other most the time anyway,"

"Call someone to let you out,"

"Where on this dress did you think there was pockets, you call someone,"

"My phone is in the twinkie,"

"The what?"

"John B's car," JJ sighs. "Fuck princess, I'm so sorry," He groans

"It's fine. Sarah will come looking for me eventually," She shrugs. He nods, watching as she sits down on the ground, patting the space next to her.

He obliges, sitting next to her, knees touching in the tight space.

"You look nice tonight, I like the shirt and tie," She compliments, he can feel himself blush and is glad the cupboard is dark enough she probably can't see it.

"Y'know what you said on the boat the other day?" She questions, he immediately knows what she's referring too "About how girls like me don't date boys like you,"

"Yeah," He confirms

"Why is that?" She questions quietly

"I couldn't make you happy princess. Your parents would hate me. I couldn't take you on the fancy dates you're used to. You wouldn't be happy,"

"My parents love you, they think you're resourceful and hard working. I hate the stuffy dates figure 8 boys take me on," She informs, he laughs a little at that. "Besides, you already make me happy. I'm just saying Maybank, if you don't wanna date me just say it, don't try and put it on me,"

JJ isn't really sure how to react. How to explain he desperately wanted to date her, wanted her to be his girl and wanted to shower her in love and adoration. He isn't sure how to tell her that by inadvertently telling him she wanted to date him she had made him the happiest man on earth. He's not really great with words and it all feels too hard to say.

So, instead, he turns slightly, taking her face in his hands and pulling her to him, his lips crashing against hers and somehow she knows everything he wanted to say.

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Bad Batch) Camping: Hunter’s  Ending

 Intro

   “I guess I’ll go with Hunter,” you said, earning a grin from Omega. Hunter glanced your way with a smile- the kind of smile that made your heart do a little flip. You were lost in it before Omega gave you a push in his direction.

   “I think that’s a good idea,” she replied. “Well, you two have fun!”

   “Aren’t you coming?”

   “Nope! I’m going to go exploring with Wrecker. See you!” Omega practically skipped away, and you were left standing there beside Hunter.

   He watched her go, the fatherly affection glowing in his gaze. “She seems to be having a good day already,” he chuckled.

   “I’m glad we came. I think this is really good for her.”

   “I think you’re right.” Hunter walked over to the tent to grab his backpack, unzipping it and fishing out his water bottle. “Alright, you ready?”

   “Yes, sir.”

   He stole a glance over your shoulder, brow raised in amusement. You stifled a giggle and followed him out of the clearing. A small dirt trail began at the edge of the woods. You should have been more focused on the path in front of you, but your eyes were trained on the sergeant in front of you who paused every now and then to get a feel for his surroundings.

   He looked much more relaxed. He donned a green civie t-shirt, a change from his usual armor or blacks, and his expression was not so hardened by the stress of a mission. His eyes didn’t hold that sharpness. His brows were not furrowed in concentration. When he stopped to check on you behind him, he smiled.

   “You good?”

   You nodded. “Yeah, you?”

   “So far.” Hunter took in a deep breath and released it with a sigh. “It sure is nice here. Not a trace of engine fuel stench.”

   You looked at him sympathetically, though his attention was on the path ahead. “That must be difficult for you, to be so sensitive to things like that.”

   “You get used to it,” he replied, though his tone wasn’t as convincing. Sometimes the toll Hunter’s ability took on him was evident. Some days, it wasn’t so bad. But every now and then, he’d disappear to his bunk after a mission to recuperate.

   The train of thought was interrupted when you nearly walked right into him. Hunter held up a hand, signaling for you to halt as well. He looked at you, putting a finger to his lips while motioning for you with his other hand to approach slowly. Peeking over his shoulder, you saw movement.

   It was a mother deer walking through the brush with a fawn at her hooves. The doe paused only for a moment to look at the two of you with her big dark eyes before continuing on her way. The fawn was leaping around, and in a way, it reminded you a bit of Omega.

   “How beautiful,” you murmured.

   “They didn’t seem to mind us,” Hunter replied. By then, they were far enough away that you didn’t have to worry about frightening them. You and Hunter resumed your hike, and you found yourself more conscious of the wildlife around you. He pointed out more creatures scuttling along the forest floor. The twitter of birds could be heard all around, but when you looked closer, you could see them fluttering from branch to branch above.

   “Wow, that one is really singing its heart out,” you commented, pointing to a one with a vibrant orange chest. Its call rang out clear as a bell.

   “It’s probably a male showing off for a female. You know how us males are,” he said, shooting you a smirk. “We aim to impress.”

   “Why yes, I certainly do. I’ve travelled with the five of you long enough. Bunch of show-offs.”

   “And?”

  “And what?”

   “Has anyone succeeded in impressing you?”

   Your face warmed under his playful gaze. He had paused to hear your reply, though you figured he was also enjoying the sight of you getting flustered.

   “I didn’t think it mattered.”

   He chuckled. “Believe it or not, I think everyone had their eye on you at one point. Wrecker especially got a little competitive.”

   Your mouth fell open. “What? I had no idea. I hope I didn’t cause any trouble...”

   “Things sort of died down after some time. We got used to having you around and saw you more as a teammate, part of the family.”

   “Ah,” you nodded, trying to hide your disappointment. You were glad the others saw you that way, but part of you always hoped that you’d caught Hunter’s attention. “I see.”

   “Well, I guess it didn’t totally die down for all of us.”

   Your gaze snapped up to meet his, and your next step was taken out of surprise. A thorny branch caught on your leg, and you drew in a sharp breath from the sting. “Ouch.” Hunter’s attention was drawn to the spot and he knelt down to help you disentangle yourself from the briars.

   “You alright?” he asked.

   You winced again. “Yeah, it just caught me by surprise.” He stood to his feet again, and you stared into his eyes. You weren’t going to let him get away with that statement so easily. “What did you mean by that?”

   “I meant that...not everyone on the squad let go of the idea,” he said, eyes unwavering. You got a pretty good idea who he was referring to. Still, you played along.

   “Really? Like who?”

   Hunter didn’t voice a reply. He kept staring into your eyes with that inviting gaze, as if daring you to take a guess. You ventured forward, noting how his chest moved up and down more noticeably the moment you stepped into his space. His eyes remained fixed on you as you took another step, though this one was smaller. You bit your lip, heart racing.

   It was like two magnets snapping together. There was no drawing back. No retreat. He was suddenly overwhelming your senses; broad shoulders in your view, his scent filling your nose, and his hands resting on either side of your waist. Hunter brought his face closer to yours, breath fanning your face, though he hesitated before your lips touched, giving you a chance to protest or back up if you chose. Instead, you satisfied the urge you’d had for some time and pressed your lips to his. His mouth began to move against yours at the moment of contact, and you could feel the depth of his feelings in his kiss. Your hands clenched over fistfuls of his t-shirt, and his grip on your waist tightened.

   He pulled back to trail a few kisses along your cheek, pausing near your ear to utter in a low voice, “in case you weren’t sure before; it’s me.”

   You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips. You pulled back to see that amused glint in his eye, and you laughed again, wrapping your arms around his neck as you embraced him. His arms slid around your form fully as he exhaled.

   “I have to say; that was really smooth,” you chuckled into his shoulder.

   “It’s like I said. We males aim to impress.”

   The two of you held each other for a while. Your hands idly played with the ends of his hair while he ran a hand up and down your back. It was a peaceful moment, and at the same time, your mind was buzzing with the excitement of the kiss. As the minutes passed, it occurred to you that it would soon be time to head back.

   Hunter seemed to be thinking the same thing because he slowly began to pull away. “We should get back.”

   “Yeah, it’ll be lunch time soon. We still don’t know what we’re going to eat.”

   “Mhm,” he hummed. Keeping a hold on one of your hands, he gave you a flirty look as he squeezed past you on the narrow trail to take the lead on the way back to camp. “We’ll figure something out.”

[pascalpanic]

so i read this scenario on reddit and i thought it would be a cute and fluffy fic idea if you want to write it :)

one of the Pedro boys (i was thinking frankie or marcus moreno but you can put any one of them that you feel like would fit the story) lands himself in the hospital and the reader visits him often cause they’re friends. they notice that every time they visit, his heart rate monitor speeds up, like not enough to cause alarm but enough to be noticeable, and that’s how she finds out that he likes her and they decide to date (after he gets out of hospital)

Appendicitis (Frankie Morales x f!reader)

Summary: ^^

W/C: 2.4K

Warnings: talk of being ill, vomit, pain, lots of talk of hospitals and that being a major setting, Frankie is a dad, language

A/N: welcome back to Josie’s quest to clean her inbox! This idea was so precious!! I hope you guys like it!!

Frankie is in fucking agony. Never has he felt something as painful as this, never has such pain radiated through his body so intensely that he has no choice but to vomit out his stomach’s contents.

He spends the day at home, occupying his daughter as best he can while he’s in such suffering. He figures that maybe it’s just really bad gas cramping or constipation. Marisol plays quietly, at her daddy’s request, watching her favorite Disney movies on the couch while nuzzled into his side. Frankie has never been so grateful to get her into bed at the end of the day.

After a full day of the pain, and realizing that it wasn’t going away no matter how many painkillers he took, Frankie gave in around midnight. Lying in his bed, skin turning gray and the pain now decisively in his right side, Frankie called you.

After a few rings, you picked up. “Hey, Fish.”

“Hi.” His voice sounds agonized. “How much do you charge for babysitting again?” He asks, the strain clear.

You’re confused, pushing the phone closer to your ear and thinking it might be the distance that makes him sound so odd. “Uh, you’re my friend, so free. You need me to take Mari?” You ask him.

He nods. “Yeah; how much for like a week though? I don’t want to impose though, and-“

His voice sounds terrible. “Frankie. Shut up. A week? What’s wrong? I can take Marisol for as long as you need, but I gotta know what’s going on.”

Frankie is quiet before he grunts softly in pain. “I think my appendix might be fucked up. It hurts like fucking hell. Mari’s asleep, I don’t wanna wake her or anything, but could you-“

You cut him off once more, sitting bolt upright. “I’m on my way over. Do you think you can hang on until I get there? I can drive you to the hospital, or we’ll get one of the boys.”

“That sounds good,” Frankie agrees. “Fuckin’ ambulances are so expensive.”

You chuckle softly. “Hang in there, Fish, okay? I’m gonna call Will, see if he can drive you and I’ll stay with Mari. How’s that?”

Marisol loves you. There’s no better solution in Frankie’s eyes: she behaves better for you than she does for him. She’ll be in good hands, happy for as long as he needs to be in the hospital healing. “Perfect. God, you’re a fucking angel. Don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve better than me,” you snort as you pull on a hoodie and slip on some shoes. “I’m gonna call Will. You got this, Fish. Distract yourself. I’ll send you updates.”

When you arrive at the Morales household, Will’s truck is already in the driveway. He lives closer, so it makes sense. Be quiet and don’t wake Mari, you remember as you slip off your shoes and head up the stairs of Frankie’s home. It’s quiet, unsurprising for this time of night, and you know Mari is a light sleeper. Frankie would never want to wake her at this hour.

Wandering into his room, you find Will standing next to the bed and an incredibly worn-looking Frankie. His skin holds barely any color, his face almost green in nausea. You rush to his side. “Frankie, holy shit,” you exclaim in a loud whisper, taking his hand. “You’re okay?”

“I will be if Miller mans up and gets me out of this bed,” he says, followed by a chuckle with no humor.

Will sighs. He’s wearing pajamas too, looking as exhausted as you are. Frankie groans as he hears Mari’s tiny voice over the baby monitor. “Fuck. You’re staying with her, Will’s bringing me?” He clarifies, looking up at you with bloodshot eyes.

Nodding, you squeeze his hand. “Give me directions quickly and I’ll go get her. You gotta sit up first, Frankie,” you reassure him.

He squeezes your hand back tight and sits up, his face contorting in pain. There’s a flush of redness to his cheeks, and it makes him look more human for a moment until it fades again. “She won’t fall back asleep unless she’s in this bed with you. She needs the attention. Uh, food is in the fridge, you know emergency shit,” he says, with surprising coherence for the pain he’s in.

You nod and ruffle Frankie’s soft bedhead. “Benny- fuck,” you wince, knowing the Miller brothers hate being mixed up. Somehow, even with their distinct personalities, you do it all the time. “Will. Send me updates,” you remind him as you stand. “And you, Francisco,” you murmur and press a kiss to his sweat-beaded forehead, “get some strong pain meds and get better for me and Mari.” You smile softly and walk out of the room.

The room next to Frankie’s is beautiful, a sage green paint and lots of woodland creatures painted on the walls by Frankie’s surprisingly artistic hands. There’s a crib covered by a creamy white canopy and the little girl pokes her head up, tilting to the side in confusion as she sees you.

It’s not fear, of course. Mari loves you, absolutely adores you in fact. She’s just… confused. Her little brain can tell it’s the middle of the night. “Where’s Daddy?” She asks, making uppy arms at you.

You walk over to her crib, picking her up and kissing her head. “Daddy’s got a tummyache, cutie,” you tell her and tickle her tummy gently, making her giggle and bury her tiny face in your chest. “He’s gonna go see the doctor and get it all fixed up, okay? You and I are gonna have so much fun,” you assure her, and she giggles again.

You can hear two sets of feet, slowly moving. “Let’s go give Daddy a kiss goodbye, okay?” Mari nods and rubs her little eyes.

Frankie’s got an arm around Will’s shoulders in the hall, looking absolutely agonized. He smiles a little as he sees you and his baby. “Hey, patita,” he chuckles. He dubbed her duckling from the soft tufts of fluff on her head as a baby. “Be good while I’m gone.”

Mari nods and puts a hand on either side of Frankie’s sweating face, making a little pout and giving him a kiss. “Love you, Daddy,” she says, a yawn overtaking her tiny face.

“Love you too,” he nods and looks up at you. “I owe you.”

“Friends don’t owe each other,” you shake your head. “Now get your a… butt to the hospital, Morales,” you tell him and pat Will on the shoulder. “Thanks, man.”

He nods at you and the two men shuffle along through the house until they can get Frankie into the car and on his way to (hopefully) sedation and a cure.

Yawning again, Mari’s big brown eyes look up at you from where you hold her on your hip. “Snack?” She asks you, pointing towards the kitchen.

Her little voice and tiny, pudgy fingers are too much. “I suppose. Only because we’re having special girls’ time,” you tease and boop her nose. Setting her on the counter, you grab some cubes of cheese and some berries, which you make sure are in small pieces.

Mari’s content to eat her snacks with you, and you can see her growing sleepier again as the plate empties out. “Sleepy?” You ask her, and she nods. “Alright, cutie pie,” you sigh and lift her, holding her to your chest as she wraps her arms around your neck and her legs around your torso. “Do you want me to cuddle with you?” You ask.

She nods. “Gotta snuggle for late sleepies. Daddy says that.”

The words melt your heart. Frankie’s always been so good with her, so warm and skilled and precious. It only makes your crush on the man grow every time his little girl babbles about how much she loves her daddy. “Does he?”

She nods. “Daddy sings for me.”

Frankie singing Marisol to sleep. The idea melts your heart. You need in on that. “What does he sing to you?” You ask. “What’s your favorite song that daddy sings to you?”

She thinks for a moment as you sit on the edge of the bed, allowing her to clamber off your lap and into the cozy king-sized bed. “Rocket Man.” It’s hard to decipher in her baby-talk, but you get it.

“He sings that for you?” You ask as you get under the covers, into the blankets that are still warm from Frankie’s body heat, that smell like his cologne.

Mari snuggles into your chest, and nods softly. “Can you sing Rocket Man?”

“Of course,” you nod and trace little circles into the toddler’s back, singing the Elton John song to her in a soft voice. It doesn’t take long, now that she’s in her daddy’s bed and got a snack, for her to fall asleep. She snores softly, and you follow suit not too long after.

-

It did turn out that Frankie had appendicitis. The doctors weren’t entirely sure what caused it, but you and the Miller brothers rotated your time with Marisol at home and the hospital with Frankie, as his stay was painfully long for such an active man. Santiago video chatted often, but being out of town prevented him from physically seeing Fish.

It took him about a week to recover, and that time was mostly spent napping or watching the television in his room. He’d bullshit with the guys or you when you were around, and he especially loved the time of the afternoon every day where one of you brought Marisol to see him.

Usually it was just you or one of the Millers who stayed in the room with him. The other two either stayed with Marisol or got to stay at home and rest for themselves. It was a lucky day when you and Benny got to both be with Frankie for a while, telling stories and laughing. It was your turn to be off-duty, but all you wanted from your free time was to be with the man.

Your presence has always made Frankie’s heart rate a little faster. It’s always made his palms a little clammy, and his pants a little tighter sometimes. At least now he can attribute it to the pain.

Every time his eyes catch yours, his heart monitor gets a little louder. It’s odd, but you shrug it off. It can’t mean anything. It’s just your Frankie. After an hour or so of spending time with the guys, you run to get fast food for the three of you. While you’re away, you receive a text from Benny.

Benny Boy: you’re fucking with his head, bro

You: what?

Benny Boy: the heart rate monitor is nearly silent right now. every time frankie looks at you it spikes, don’t tell me you haven’t been noticing that

You: do you want nuggets or a burger?

You: thats ridiculous, Benny.

Benny Boy: always nuggets. but seriously, his heart rate is at like 54 right now, he’s just chilling and kind of dozed off. let’s check it when you come back.

You: be prepared for the most boring science experiment ever. also, what dip do you want?

After you receive your bulging bags of food, stuffed from both Benny’s and Frankie’s massive appetites, you return to the hospital.

You: walking in. pulse status?

Benny: 60. he’s a little more awake now.

As you enter the room, Frankie turns to you and grins. “Hey. What did you get?” He asks.

You plop the bags on the small table overhanging Frankie’s bed and grin. “Just your usual order. I know what you like,” you shrug as you unpack the food.

Beep beep beep beep. HR: 77

Smiling at the rate of Frankie’s heart, more than you should really, you sit down back next to Benny and the three of you eat your food. It’s somewhat quiet, the chatter dying as you devour the fast food, savoring the grease and salt.

After everyone is finished, you stand and clean up the garbage, tossing it all away. You sit back down on Frankie’s bedside. “So, macho man. How’s the pain?” You ask, your fingers tracing his good side.

Beep beep beep beep beep. HR: 86

He shrugs. “It hurts like a bitch, and they said it’s gonna keep hurting like a bitch.”

“Poor baby,” you chuckle, cupping the side of his face and kissing his forehead softly.

Beep beep beep beep beep beep. HR: 96

Benny groans and stands. “I’m gonna hit the bathroom.” He smacks your arm as he walks past, as if rubbing in the evidence he’s found. “And then take a walk, I think.”

You’re still seated at Frankie’s side, on the inflatable hospital mattress. “Oh Benjamin,” Frankie rolls his eyes. “Why’d he leave so quick?”

You shrug, though you know the answer. “Who knows? Benny can’t even predict himself,” you chuckle. Frankie’s hand rests over his chest. You slide your hand over his torso and lace your fingers through his until you’re holding it. You can feel his heart thumping steadily against it. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

Beep beep beep beep. HR: 104

He smiles. “I’m lucky I have you.”

You sigh softly as you look up at the heart rate monitor again. “I gotta say, you have a really high resting rate,” you say nonchalantly, as if you believe it.

Frankie’s face warms. “I, uh-“

“I’m kidding, Frankie,” you mumble softly to him, smiling a little. “I really like you, and I think that monitor is helping me know you like me too. When you get out of here, can we maybe go on a date some time?”

Beepbeepbeepbeepbeep. HR: 112

Nodding enthusiastically, those floppy curls move with his head. “I would love that,” he tells you with a beaming smile. “God, have you been able to tell all day?” He asks as he looks up at the monitor, his ears burning with heat as he reads the pulse rate. It’s embarrassingly high.

“Yeah,” you finally admit and smile down at him. “But it’s cute. And it makes me feel all warm inside because I finally know you like me too.”

Big brown eyes stare up at you with all of the love in the world. “If I wasn’t wearing a hospital gown, I’d kiss you right now,” he promises. “But that’ll have to wait.”

“Yes it will,” you nod and kiss his forehead again, easing him back against the mattress he’d lifted up from slightly. “Now I’m going to go find Benny, and you slow down that heart rate,” you tease and ruffle his curls.

“I’m not gonna be able to slow it down with you around,” he says with a soft smile, his eyes slipping shut.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan

[ktheist]

girls like you [don’t] run ‘round with guys like me | m

characters. popular!reader x shy!jimin

genre. college au. rich kids au. fwb au. eventual ceo au. eventual racer au.

words. 4k

warnings. 18+

note. this is a repost. tumblr messed up my exposure last time. this fic didn’t show up in search and it’s probably a third post of mine that ends up like this. this one probably won’t either but posting bc someone might see it and like it.

x

It’s easy to tell when Park Jimin is in love.

Unlike Kim Seokjin, his eccentric, dad joke-loving friend, Jimin would only wear the pastel pink when he’s feeling giggly and shy and mushy inside.

The source of said feelings being either the barista he goes to get his daily dose of coffee from, or the girl at the library he studies at during finals or well, right now it’s the girl he’s fucking almost every day of the week - you.

“What are you doing?” Seokjin looks at him like he just dumped a spoonful of salt in a broth that needs a little, teensy bit of sugar.

Or his face seems to say that as he goes on, “she’s a mean girl. She’s mean.”

Jimin isn’t sure if Seokjin’s aware that he’s just repeated the same thing twice.

“She calls you Chim!” The older man reiterates.

“Yeah, it’s…” Jimin trails off, the heartwarming image of you cuddling into him after yet another mindblowing sex, flashing at the back of his mind, “...her pet name for me.”

“Sounds to me like she can’t remember your actual name,” Min Yoongi interjects from the couch he’s claimed for himself ever since they got to their usual hangout.

It’s a penthouse Jimin’s parents bought him on his 18th birthday. Him and the boys would hang around there after they’re done with classes or just need a place to crash whenever they have problems with their girlfriends or boyfriends or parents or any sort of problem that renders their usual room not sleepable.

“I think we can just agree we have different wants,” Jeongguk - or the sanest of them all, as Jimin likes to call him - chirps in, taking a bite of the apple he got from the fridge.

“Exactly,” Jimin throws his hands up as if freed from his elder friends’ judge-filled eyes. The vibration of his phone in his lap gives him even more comfort to know that he finally has an excuse to slip away - he checks his phone, your name flashing in the bubble that says ‘hey, wyd?’

“I have to go, it’s ___.”

A series of groans and hollers equally erupts from the men in the room at the realization of what Jimin’s ‘having to go’ means.

And so it goes. Jimin finds himself under your blanket that smells like fresh laundry - it’s a nude green color compared to the pleated black and white from last time. Your head is on his chest and he’s caressing your hair like it’s the softest thing he’s ever laid his hands on.

Besides your boobs, that is.

“I was thinking… since we have Monday off… maybe we could-”

It’s the way you push yourself off him, eyes that are onto him gazing straight into his soul, “oh shoot, Monday’s a public holiday. I totally forgot! I have to meet my parents. My dad’s been nagging me to come back since I skipped Christmas and New Year.”

And there goes his chance to ask you out on a date.

“Oh yeah, what were you saying about Monday?”

Jimin wears the biggest fake smile he can muster, “just that… me and the boys are gonna hang out and we’re bringing our girlfriends and boyfriends and uh- doesn’t have to be someone you’re exclusively seeing,” he almost chokes at the almost-admittance that he has the fattest crush on you and wants to make it official by inviting you to a couple’s-only hang out, “but like, I don’t think I’m going, it’s boring anyway.”

He waves his hand dismissively, trying to play it cool.

You make a cooing sound, eyebrows knitting together as your lips pout cutely before a playful smile blooms on your face, “I know what you’re trying to say.”

“You do?” Jimin thinks he heard his heart dropping to his stomach.

“Yeah, you’re single and all the boys have someone special they’re gonna bring… it’s gonna be awkward as hell because they’re gonna act different because they’re around their special someone so you thought if I was there, it’d be more fun because at least you have a friend with you that’s not gonna act fake the whole time there but I can’t go so you decided you’re not going too like a minute ago.”

Silence lulls in after your analogy that you sound so sure of when, in fact, he has a whole list of things he’d do on the date which he may or may not have gone over a hundred times in his head.

Doesn’t matter now, since that date is a no-go.

He’s going to delete that list off his phone once he gets to his place and drink himself silly until he wipes it out of his mind.

“Yeah,” Jimin says a moment later, “yeah… I mean, girls in love are cute but boys in love are just… annoying.”

The week flies by without Jimin ever mentioning Monday and you’ve showed him the clothes you’re going to wear to visit your parents because apparently-

“It’s lunch at some five star Michelin restaurant and I think they’re gonna tell me they’re getting a divorce,” your voice drifts into the room from the open, walk-in closet.

“If they’re not in some long, dreadful battle on who gets the holiday house with the pool and the dogs - how do I look?” You step out, in a frilly creme sweater with a black ribbon tied around the collar of your white undershirt with a black pleated skirt that stops mid-thighs, just inches from your black stockings.

A glaring contrast to your collection of washed out skinny jeans, plain t-shirts and sneakers.

“You… look…” Jimin knows he should stop openly ogling at your never-before-seen drip but there’s just something about the creme colored sweater.

“Like a good girl?” You offer with a smile Jimin couldn’t quite put a name to. Somehow he notices a trace of sadness in your eyes, but you disappear into the closet too soon.

“I’ll think about what to wear the morning I need to wear it,” you’re in the middle of pulling off the sweater when Jimin comes up behind you, kissing your neck and grabbing your boobs like they’re his.

The sound of your giggle is music to his ears.

That is, until his boner brushes against your butt and you gasp, “Chim! We just did it.”

“I know but you look so cute in that sweater.” He sounds exactly like Jeongguk. Like a fuckboy.

Like one of the boys you got tired of before you finally noticed him, the quiet, shy guy who’s friends with the outgoing, baby-faced Jeon Jeongguk whom - Jimin hates to admit it but he thinks about this every once so often and gets jealous all on his own - you’ve humped and dumped.

How you and Jeongguk still manage to stay friends and tease each other about the other’s choice of partners, Jimin doesn’t know.

It’s like a twin calling the other ugly.

He wonders if you and him will still stay friends after…

Jimin pushes the thought out of his mind. It’s not hard to forget everything when he’s with you - when he’s kissing you on the mouth like you’re the only girl he’ll want to spend the rest of his college life with and maybe his old days with together too.

“Chim, I can’t get my shirt creased,” you say but you’re already dripping wet and laying down in said shirt that’s half ridden up from him sucking and biting on your nipples.

He stopped you when you tried to take off your clothes.

“I’ll wash it and iron it for you,” he negotiates just as he rolls the condom over his length.

The sound of your giggle makes his heart skip a beat. Or maybe that’s the libido?

Either way, your mouth clamps shut when he pulls you down against him by the dip of your waist.

A different kind of hymn leaves your lips as Jimin throws his head back, relishing in the feeling of you around him.

When Monday rolls around, Jimin’s lying on the bean bag with his two legs sprawled over the floor. The boys are all out with either their significant others, working part-time or at a party.

The worn out baseball Jimin’s been tossing in the air and catching with one hand finally hits him square in the face when he hears the doorbell, signaling the presence of someone at the door and that someone being none of the boys because they would just punch in the code and strut in like they own the place.

Jimin thought maybe it’s Yoongi - the guy couldn’t even remember what he had for dinner and actually forgot the passcode to his own rental room once.

So he didn’t think to check who it was.

When your bright smile and slightly puffy eyes flash in front of him, Jimin thinks his soul just yeeted itself out of his body.

“Hey!” You sing song, holding up two plastic bags of beers and snacks.

It takes a moment for him to snap out of his stupor and grab them from your hands and then stepping aside to let you in.

“Is… everyone late or am I just early?” You sound increasingly confused as you step further into the center of the room, standing right next to the bean bag he was laying in just a moment ago.

“Oh-” he says once before he opens his mouth the second time, ready to spurt out another lie, “oh yeah… we decided not to ‘cause why hang out in a group when you can hang out with your significant other… you know, just the two of you… doing what couples do…”

“Huh,” you say, nodding though not quite believing him but you being you, easily lets it slide, plopping on the bean bag and grabbing the closest thing to you which is the ball that hit Jimin in the face - he’s sure he has a circular mark smack dab in the area on the top of his nose bridge, in between his eyes.

The dress you end up wearing is creme colored and riding up your thighs - Jimin swallows thickly and give extra attention to the bottle opener.

“So… how did lunch go?” He pops two beers open and hands one to you, taking a seat on Yoongi’s favorite couch and admiring how your dress is taking the shape of your body as gravity pulls it down.

“Oh, you know, everyone was being fake and acting like the perfect role in the family,” you put the beer down a few inches above your head so as to not tip it over with the ball you’re waving around but not throwing in the air like Jimin did.

“Sounds suffocating,” Jimin repeats a similar answer he gives whenever you use that dismissive tone while talking about your family.

“...are you okay?” Then he asks - and he’s genuinely asking - about your state of mind while casually downing the beer and feeling the bitterness lessen with every gulp.

The silence that lapses in between you is familiar.

“If I say no, can I get a hug?” It’s the look in your eyes, glimmering like the lake he used to go to in summer.

“Always,” he sets his beer down on the table next to the couch and goes over to you, standing on his knees before bending down and engulfing you in his arm.

You’ve always had a knack for picking yourself up.

When he sees you the next time, which is on instagram and a post of you having lunch with your friends, Jimin could hardly believe that’s the girl who asked him for a hug as if she’s afraid she’ll be putting him in an uncomfortable spot by asking for too much.

But there’s something…

Like an invisible wall made of ice that he can’t thaw through nor can he climb over to get to the other side where you are. Where you keep the people you love the closest. Closer than he’ll ever be.

Jeon Jeongguk is one of them.

In the picture of five people huddled close to fit in the frame, Jeongguk has his arm over you with a peace sign while you lean your head on his neck but not actually resting on it - like it’s an unconscious action you’d do because you’ve done that plenty of times.

Is it when you two were together?

Everyone he knows, knows that you and Jeongguk used to be more than just friends at some point.

Sometimes he still hears people talking about you two in passing.

‘Did ___ and Jeongguk get back together? I saw in Jeongguk’s snapstory - they were in a club or something.’

‘No way. There goes my chance of getting close with Jeongguk.’

‘Girl, with ___ hanging around him 24/7, do you think he’d look at girls like us?’

‘A girl can dream though.’

Jimin wanted to open his mouth and tell them they deserve way better than Jeon Jeongguk - though they’re not prettier than you.

He thinks you’re the loveliest girl on planet earth and if there was another life form on another planet, he’s almost a hundred percent sure you’d still be prettiest being in the universe with your obsession for skinny jeans and the way you’d unconsciously pout when he talks about how things weren’t going his way that day as if you would’ve exchanged your abundance of luck with his shitty one just because you’ve got that big of a heart and how you’d be walking with your friends, laughing and giggling and when you see him, you’d wave at him like you’re good friends.

Second only to Jeongguk and your friend group that you’re always hanging out with.

“Oh, ___? We were childhood friends.”

“Hmm… Gguk and I became friends because our parents are friends.”

The two of them say at different times and settings when Jimin asked, trying to play it cool. Like he isn’t just brimming with jealousy. Like he’s not half-way to losing his mind because the girl of his dreams just went to a retreat with his friend-of-a-friend-turned-actual-friend together when everyone else in the group who was excitedly planning for the trip - couldn’t make it.

The rooms at the inn weren’t even pre-booked. It was owned by Jeongguk’s family and they didn’t deposit any money for the trip for them to rationalize going on that trip anyway despite everyone else not being to go.

“The trip? It was fun, if you want we can go together next time.”

Jimin isn’t sure if you even mean that when he asked how the trip went after you’re glistening with the glow of after sex and scrolling through instagram, liking posts of everyone you know.

But then three months later, on your break, Jimin is hit with a ‘keep your schedule free next week for a whole week!!!’

Then he finds himself at a five star hotel by the beach with the most breathtaking view of the sea.

It wasn’t the inn owned by the Jeon’s but Jimin liked the fact that you brought him to a place - and he hopes his assumptions are true - your friends have never been before. Especially Jeongguk.

“Woah, this place is better than I thought,” a king sized bed lies directly across from the balcony where you’re standing, hair flying behind your back as the seaside breeze blows into the room.

“We can watch the sun rise and set from our bed,” Jimin comments for the sake of saying something.

He’s not sure what this means. He’s not sure if he should be having a boner at the thought of the two of you being together for a whole week without any other person getting in the way. He’s not sure if his heart should be thumping this fast.

For the first time since he’s known you, Park Jimin is the most unsure he’s ever been.

“You know what I wanna watch?” Your hands slip in his as you stand between him  and the open balcony door, “you under me, biting your lips because you’re still shy about the sound you make.”

So when you tug him back into the bedroom just minutes after checking in, naturally, Park Jimin follows like he’s been bewitched by your ungodly beauty.

Once the one week of nothing but heavenly morning wishes and passionate night kisses - oh, there was more than just kissing but Jimin remembers how your lips meld so perfectly together with his the most - Jimin is sure.

‘Something definitely changed.’

He thinks maybe it’s not impossible to dream of a future with you even after college.

“Jimin I-... I’m not at a point in life to be thinking about relationships,” you say, hand gripping your arm, head lowered as if your whole body is saying sorry.

“O-oh,” is all he says, he hearts his heart breaking and his chest caving.

All of a sudden, the lights in Gangnam city doesn’t seem so bright anymore.

You both live your last year pretending like the other doesn’t exist. He doesn’t look at you when he passes you and neither did you. Only talks to Jeongguk even though you’re right next to the aforementioned man - granted you were talking with your other friends like you didn’t even notice him there.

But Jimin’s never felt so invisible in his life than he does now.

Then, graduation rolls around and he thinks finally, he won’t have to walk through the hallway and pretend like he didn’t see you. Don't have to keep a five feet distance whenever you meet up for a group project.

Park Jimin doesn’t need to see your pretty face and starry eyes anymore.

“Jimin… do you have a minute?”

Or so he thought.

“So… congrats on surviving college,” you make small talk while standing just ten feet away from the boys whom he’s sure are speculating on what you’re talking about.

Jimin never got to prove to his friends that you’re not the mean, name-forgetting girl they all thought.

Jeongguk knows you’re not. He’s always backing Jimin up when Jimin’s debunking their passing accusations about you.

“Sometimes things just don’t work out between two people but doesn’t mean one of them is the bad guy.” Jeongguk's words put an end to their debate of whether Jimin deserved better than you or not.

For someone young, Jeongguk spoke his mind decidedly.

Jimin felt ashamed that he’d ever been jealous of Jeongguk’s relationship with you.

“I just… didn’t wanna leave things on a bad note. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings when I said no but I really like spending time with you - whether it’s sex or just staying over and cuddling for hours… I like it all.” You say the word sex and cuddle like they’re used interchangeably and Jimin thinks his heart just fluttered.

And you’d said it in public where your everyone can see or possibly pick up on what you were saying, at that.

Well, one thing’s for sure, you’ve got bigger balls than he does.

“My feelings are the same as six months ago and call me crazy but I don’t think you dislike me either.” He finally says and it feels like a deadweight has been lifted off his shoulders.

There comes that pout, as if something is bothering you and you always ever pout like that when that something concerns him.

“You kidding me? I can never dislike you.”

The Jimin from six months ago would have stared at you with disbelief and a dust of pink on his cheeks. But the Jimin he is now simply smiles, heart thumping in his chest. He nods.

“Thanks for telling me that,” and Jimin knows that’s the closest to an ‘I like you’ he can get with the girl who builds an ice fortress around her heart.

A whole year passes by and Jimin finds himself in different shades of grey every day, working at his dad’s company and attending dinner meetings. Life comes to a standstill while time passes him by.

“So, like, you have a sports car, right? Why don’t you come over to the race circuit after dinner? Everyone’s gonna be there.”

Jeongguk tells him over the phone.

And by ‘everyone’ he means the sons and daughters in the corporate world. It’s networking at its finest.

When he’s there, three cars are already racing in the circuit. The smell of burnt rubber and the sound of tires screeching against asphalt isn’t exactly his favorite but they have cheap booze instead of fine wine and he knows the people here are in for the same thing as he is.

An escape.

Away from the grandeur of fine wine and dinner dresses and the elders breathing down their necks and having to act like the next heir to the legacy they were born to carry.

“That Chevrolet over there,” Jeongguk comes, hand on Jimin’s back as his other one that’s holding a bottle of beer points at a red car that looks like a racing fireball, “everyone’s betting on that one tonight.”

Jimin doesn’t know there’s a bet.

“I’ll skip the bet this time ‘round. Haven’t seen the driver yet,” he shrugs dismissively.

Even in stock investment, he’d learned to study the market first before placing his best bet.

Jeongguk leaves his side when his friends - he’s got new ones now - beckons him over. At the same time, the Chevrolet passes the finish line seconds before the Ford Mustang and McLaren 720s, making it the winner of the night.

The driver seems like a show off with the way the car rolls up to the audience, the sound of its engines revving into the night being met with cheers of half-drunk young adults.

Arrogance is a man’s downfall.

Jimin’s about to turn around and head for the exit when the door of the car gets pushed open. The driver steps out, decked in black and red leather jeans and jackets that seem to match the car.

But it’s the smooth, silken hair that cascades past the helmet that catches his eyes.

Park Jimin’s seen many arrogant men in his life but he’s only ever seen one woman with balls and looks good wearing them.

“___! ___! ___!” The crowd starts cheering as you pull off the helmet, holding it underneath your arm and waist.

Your eyes are as brilliant as the night sky full of stars. They’re tinged with shock and then recognition. And finally, you smile that gorgeous smile that gets you misunderstood often as a woman who doesn’t need anything or anyone but uses them as they come.

But Park Jimin knows better than anyone, how wholeheartedly happy that smile looks when you see him.

Like meeting a good friend after a long time.

Seven months down the road, Jimin finds himself with just a blanket draped over his waist while you’re taking a shower in his bathroom to get ready to head to Hong Kong for a business trip.

He hears the sound of the shower head being turned off. The tapping of your foot around his bedroom as you pick up your clothes that are strewn all over the floor.

Then the bed dips ever so gently under your weight as you climb over to him, the fresh scent of shower get filling his senses.  Lips press a deep, lingering kiss on his. As if you don’t want to go to a place where he won’t be.

A few socials and midnight races after his first meeting with you after a long time, you asked him if he’s seeing someone.

“If I say yes, what will you do?” It’s playful at first, because Jimin didn’t want to get himself hurt the second time.

But it’s the way you tilted your head, a finger tapping on your chin as you pondered on his words, “that’s a problem because I don’t want to be that girl that steals another girl’s man,” then you looked at him like you know he’s the one you want to wake up to every morning and the last face you see when you sleep at night and if you can’t have that. then-

“Can you be mine… just for tonight?”

“I don’t think I can.” The crestfallen expression you wear makes his own heart break, even if it’s just for a split second-

“Because I’m not seeing anyone but I’m in that point in life where I want a serious relationship or nothing at all.”

But what he doesn’t tell you is how he doesn’t want a relationship if it’s not with the girl who still haunts his dreams even after all this time.

Just like how you’d turned him down because you weren’t looking to be in a relationship before, you’d courted Jimin like you’d want to spend your whole life with him now.

Flowers got sent to his office everyday until it smells nothing short of floral. You’d be there, waving at him like he’s your savior in that dreadful social you were both attending. Every week, you’d plan dinner dates under the guise of catching up.

Before you race, you’d look over to where he’s standing, as if saying ‘this one’s for you’ before slipping into your car and coming out first every single time.

As if you were making up for every month of the year that you’d let life pass you by.

Now you’ve won a total of 36 races since he met you and the metal band you gifted him on the night of your 12th win feels warm against his skin. As if it’s absorbed all the love and adoration you poured into it.

And you’re wearing that ring he got you on your birthday on your finger that’s resting on his chest where his heart is as he kisses you back just as reluctant to let you leave.

But Park Jimin knows wherever you are, wherever you will be - you will always find your way back to each other.

Back home.

[seraphdreams]

christmas lights

poc fem!reader x soft dom! kags, angst (kinda), soft morning sex, very vanilla and fluffy.

wc - 1.4k

it was a rough few days. you had just got into a serious argument with kageyama. a bout of words, only said out of anger, run through your mind. the way he was so stubborn and ignorant to your needs had a pain stabbing through your heart.

“i swear you’re so needy! why can’t you just listen to me for once?!” he had said that night, his voice ringing through you’re mind like a bell, nonstop, and over and over.

you hugged yourself under the large, warm comforter. there you lay in bed, watching the romantic christmas movies on the holiday channel, scarfing down ice cream like it’s nothing. you hadn’t talked to tobio ever since the big argument. he was at an away game and stayed at a hotel with the team. not once leaving a message or calling.

but you were used to it, his outbursts. the way he’d be so childlike as to not care about his doting girlfriend.

“i don’t care what he’s doing” you angrily babble to yourself as you get up to throw away the now empty tub of ice cream. the chirping of birds on your balcony got your attention. pretty smidges of red, blue and green twinkle under the early morning light. decorations upon decorations coming into hazy view.

you rested your hands on the railing, taking in the crisp, cold air. sitting in bed wasn’t going to help your spirits, no. you needed to be outdoors doing something fun. “let me call my friend real quick” you whisper, turning around quickly and hopping to your bed stand

“hey”. a deep voice causes you to freeze, the tall frame of your lover standing in the doorway. blue glassy eyes stare into yours. you relax your tense body and roll your eyes.

“hi tobio” you drag out, almost uninterested. but he seen. he seen how you were fawning over the festivities, and how the glow of sunlight on your pretty brown skin made you seem almost ethereal. he really truly enjoyed seeing you happy.

his eyes dance across the room as he lays a finger on his chin trying to think up something. “uhhh, um, i-well i” he pauses for a brief moment to clear his throat. you give him an annoyed puzzled glare, causing him to shift on his feet. “babe, i’m sorry for yelling at you. i was just so stressed with practice and the ga-“ he sighs, dropping his volleyball bag to the side before continuing.

“look, i didn’t mean to hurt you in any way. i got some time off so we could do something. anything you want.” he compromises, hoping to see if your atmosphere would get a little warmer.

you amble toward him, chocolate coils bouncing with every step. “anything?” you give him your best puppy eyes while reaching for his hand. he takes it in his, pressing a gentle kiss onto the back of yours. “anything.”

it doesn’t take long for kageyama to get worked up, moving his lips from your hand to your cheek, then to your plump lips that curled into a smile. his gentle pecks was all enough to make you reassured. you deepen the kiss, pulling him closer until your chest was pressed onto his. the material of his t-shirt balled in your fist.

his rough calloused hands move from inside his adlers track jacket pockets to around your waist, gripping at the soft flesh. deep groans escape as he places open mouth kisses along the side of you neck, nipping ever so lightly. “missed you” he drawls. you drape your arms over his shoulders, inhaling his scent. fresh, like always.

he breaks from the kiss, panting. you gaze into his dark blue orbs, noticing no hidden intent behind them. just pure lust. “tobio?” you ask, tilting you head to the side. his cheeks are flushed pink and eyes unfocused. “..want you” he mumbles. you nod your head, melting into his tranquil touch.

he kisses your forehead, then picks you up. you wrap your legs around his slender waist as you feel the breeze of him placing you on the soft sheets behind you.

a chill breeze flows through the air making the curtains dance, orange light peering through. tobio slides in between your legs, staring down at you. you giggle at his advance. somehow he always seemed to be intense but right now, he was nothing of the sort. he kneels down to carefully pull the sweats, along with your underwear, off your legs. your exposed thighs were like gold. the glistening of the sun on your deep sepia skin, sparkling in the reflection of blueberries eyes.

he lightly runs his pale fingers down your thigh. he taps on the flesh ever so gently. you spread them out farther in response. he rests on his knees, in front of your glossy folds. licking his puffy pink lips, he sucks on your clit. you arch your back in surprise at the wet warmth succumbing to your body. his tongue swirls around the nub, drawing patterns as his sharp eyes study your face. his pretty girl falling into the sensation.

he pulls away. long digits running along your slit. he dips a finger in then out. “tobio” you mewl, hand over your face. he chuckles, repeating his action before slipping in two fingers. “so wet” he says. the ghost of his breath casting overs your cunt. he pumps curling his fingers against the velvety wall. you run your hand under your skin, playing with your hard nipples. kageyama watches as you come undone, fingering deeper and harder. “please tobio, please” you cry out, free hand tangled in his black locks. you can feel yourself tightening on his fingers, coating them in your slick. the lewd noises of your body filling up the room. he prods at your sweet spot, watching how it makes you tighten and moan, tits bouncing in his view.

you felt the coil in your abdomen build up. he used his tongue to lap around your clit, determined for you to reach your high. “i’m gonna-“ you’re orgasming, tumbling off the edge, panting as you scramble to find a something to grab onto to steady you. his fingers gently push into you once more, riding out your orgasm.

“easy” tobio coos, pressing on your stomach so you could remain grounded. he stands up, his hard on begging to be freed from the grey shorts he had on. he kisses the tip of your cute rounded nose. he then searches through his drawer to find a condom. coming back to you, he pulls his shorts down, condom bearing between his teeth. his cock leaking beads of precum from the slit and flushed pink at the tip. he slips on the condom, pumping himself a few times afterward

he nudges the head against your walls, pushing in slowly. the slight burn of him splitting you open goes away quickly. he lets out a shaky breath. “fuck”. once he’s situated inside, he begins to thrust.

he keeps his movements gentle, gripping the soft flesh of your waist. a singe of pleasure trills down your spine as you let out whimpers and moans. his thick cock repeatedly hitting in the perfect spot not even you could reach. “s’good?” he asks, his voice light and airy from his moans. your bottom lip is tucked back by your teeth and all you could do was nod. his hands explore your body, fingers twirling around your dark curls.

you buck your hips up, matching his thrusts. you didn’t think he could go any deeper but he did, putting pressure against your cervix. “tobio!” you gasp, eyes shot from the pleasure. “feels...good” you hum. you scratch at his back unable even find the words to explain how good you feel. “so tight, baby” he groans. it doesn’t take long for his fingers to find their way to your clit again, rubbing harsh circles on the bud. the coil in your stomach starts building up again. he thrusts harder in that one spot, until your screaming his name and you coat his cock with your cream color.

the next few strokes are slightly painful, only until he finally hits his high.

he collapses on the bed next to you, playing with your hair

“anything else you wanna do after this?” he asks, voice shaky

“can we go see the christmas lights later?” you pant

“definitely”

[short-yandere-stories]

Can I please get a yandere mha Villian matchup if you have time!

I go by she /they and I’m bi! I have reddish/ blonde hair ,pale skin and green eyes! I wear these huge black glasses! I love art, singing, coding and drawing! I come of as enthusiastic,passionate and extrovert but on the inside I tend to hide my feelings with a smile, which doesn’t always end well. My anxiety and depression always seem to get the best of me. I believe that there is good in everyone’s heart, which sometimes doesn’t end up good cause I tend to be manipulated easily! I also tend to simp for bad guys because I feel like I’m a horrible person 🙂

But of course! Matchups are always a lot of fun (and sometimes they're faster to write than full stories hehe) You sound like a really sweet person oh my gosh! Some villains here would love to either corrupt you or "preserve" you... You'll see what I mean in these two matchups. Content Warnings: mentions of kidnapping, violence, mind break, slight psychological torture,

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

The first villain who’d fall for you would be Dabi. And I’m going with the Dabi is Touya theory (idk if it’s still a theory or confirmed at the time of writing because I’m not caught up)

Oh, you just make a perfect target for him after he’s decided that you’re the one he wants.

It doesn’t matter who you are; a childhood friend, a hero, a hero student, a normal civilian, a minor villain...

When Dabi falls, he falls hard.

And he’s been through far too much in his life already can’t he let himself have something good for once?

Chance meetings with yanderes are always a great way of meeting because in hindsight there will not have been anything you could have done to avoid it.

Bumping into a stranger on the street, taking a later train, buying strawberry milk -- any small coincidence that sets his eye on you which is unavoidable.

How could you have known that helping an old lady across the street or waiting outside the bank could have led to this?

I think it would only take spotting you a couple of times for Dabi to decide that he wants you.

There’s just something about the way you cheerfully talk to people that are the complete opposite of him.

If you knew how truly shitty this world was, you wouldn’t be smiling and laughing along with those strangers.

You’re not bad to look at either, he begrudgingly accepts, and after hearing you sing to yourself while cooking in your apartment, he makes himself accept that you have a pretty nice voice too.

In a way, you remind him of his past self, before his dad, before the heroes.

Back when he was happy.

And his fingers are itching to bring you down to his level.

Life isn’t as easy as you seem to think it is and he’ll be damned if he lets you carry on thinking like that.

Though one night when he’s hanging outside your bedroom window as usual, he sees you crumble, falling sobbing into your bed, holding a pillow.

Later, he also sees you go to the cabinet in your bathroom and swallow some pills from a box he recognizes as antidepressants. 

His older siblings used to take the same ones.

Turns out your life isn’t picture-perfect after all.

Somehow, that makes him grin.

This will just make it easier to give you the push needed to finally accept that the world is garbage and that there is no point in staying so needlessly positive and upbeat.

This will finally be the last push he needs to kidnap you with the help of Kurogiri. He had to talk to Shigaraki about you going to be a good asset when he managed to beat you down a little more, throwing in a few white lies to make sure he’d get Kurogiri’s help

Dabi doesn’t give a shit about if your quirk would be helpful or not, or even if you have one or not.

He has no intention of making you an actual fighting part of the League.

He just wants to own you and break you down until you realize the truth of this world and society.

And he will not be gentle showing you this.

He’ll make you see horrors, hurt you -- anything to finally make you break.

At least he brought your medicine with him when he kidnapped you, and he uses your pronouns like a decent human being.

The real question is if that is Dabi being kind or decent, or if it’s to show you that people you thought were bad aren’t really that awful.

Either way, it will work into his plan in the end.

With you finally realizing how awful the world is, Dabi will finally be pleased.

Now it’s just going to be you and him with a shared hatred for society, seeking comfort in each other.

After all, Dabi is the only person who understands you.

Who loves you.

Why on earth did you try to fight him in the beginning?

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

And the other villain, who would rather preserve you the way you are or make you “better” would be Kai Chisaki.

The world is filthy and disgusting, filled with people who share the same traits.

Overhaul wants nothing but to change this -- people’s faulty disgusting ideals -- and make society more accepting and better.

He never thought he’d meet a person who wasn’t like everyone else.

Who wasn’t covered in or thoughts corrupted by the same filth as everyone else.

You’re exactly what he hopes to change the world into!

He puts you on a high pedestal, idolizing each and every aspect of you.

Your wonderful voice, your cheerful and kind demeanor...

Everything!

If the ground wasn’t so filthy and disgusting, he would basically kiss the ground in front of your feet.

Though not when anyone else could see.

Chisaki Kai, Overhaul, can’t reveal any of his feelings to any of his underlings.

What if they imagined him weak, completely smitten by this person?

When (not if) he kidnaps you, he will slowly try to shape/form you into his own glorified version of you.

You’ll be isolated from anyone but him for this entire process because he doesn’t want anyone to taint you.

He just loves you so much, you see!

And he knows you can be even more perfect.

So just give in already.

No need to make this hard on yourself.

The faster you give in, letting him “improve” you the kinder and more affectionate he will be.

After all, he finally made you perfect.

He deserves to relish in his victory.

He’s saved you from the world.

And now it’s your turn to save him.

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

[sooibian]

Between a Rock and a Hard Place

Pairing: Kyungsoo x fem!Reader ft. big brother Junmyeon, arch enemy Sehun

Genre/Themes: Established Relationship AU, Fluff, Crack, Loosely inspired by the anime Horimiya

Warnings: Sexual themes, themes of sadism and masochism (nothing explicit), slight swearing.

Description: It’s Sehun’s wedding party. Kyungsoo knew these couple of hours with you were going to be anything but pleasant, however, he didn’t expect things to spiral so quickly. 

A/N: Thank you @his-mochi-cheeks​ for encouraging me to upload this. Shy tagging my closeted dandanies @vampwrrr​ and @changshapatrol​​ since this one sparked joy.

Word count: 2.7k

*****************************************

To Kyungsoo, the best thing about weddings was the feast but since you sat sulkily sipping on green juice - whatever the fuck that monstrosity was made of - he couldn't muster the courage to gorge on bulgogi and galbi in front of you. Especially not since it was a "your side of the family" wedding and your big brother Junmyeon wouldn't quit looking at him as if he were a ticking time bomb.

He’d gone out with you for five years before finally asking you to marry him four years ago. As much as he tried, Kyungsoo failed to make peace with the fact that Junmyeon still hadn't warmed up to him. Kyungsoo firmly believed in cause and effect and he just couldn’t tell when and how he’d faltered to warrant such iciness from Junmyeon. Events like these made his thoughts tread deeper into the “where did I go wrong?” labyrinth with no escape in sight.

Kyungsoo’s stomach growled, the proximity to the buffet area wasn’t helping. He stupidly slapped a hand on it as if to stop the sound from reaching you but despite the loud music and raucous conversations, you noticed. So you offered him a sip of the disgusting green gloop which he politely declined.

Shrugging, you sing-songed mindlessly, "Oof the barbecue stall sure looks inviting."

He suspiciously studied the ever so slight movements in your features, every microexpression and chose the safest response of taking your hand in his, lacing your fingers together, and planting a soft kiss between your knuckles - conscious of the fact that he’d have to tolerate the hunger pangs for just a bit longer. He was dead sure you’d ask him to stop at a McDonald's on your two hour drive back home. None of these green gloop diets have lasted over twelve hours.

Resting his chin in his hand, Kyungsoo peered over his glasses and looked around the luxuriously and aesthetically decorated lawn. In front of the gazebo Oh Sehun and his bride slow-danced to a song he couldn’t recognise. Sehun's hand mischievously slipped down his bride's waist and she teasingly punched his chest in response. She giggled and swayed in his arms as Sehun looked into her eyes with all the love glimmering in his own. Thinking back to his own wedding day, Kyungsoo smiled to himself and planted yet another kiss on your hand. Features contorted by the nasty taste of the juice, to him you still looked just as radiant as you did on your wedding day. In the moment he wanted nothing more than to join the couples on the dance floor, wrap his arms around your waist, and sway to the rhythm of the romantic, soft beats.

So he turned to you and asked enthusiastically, “Lets dance?”

“Kyungsoo - ,” pinching the bridge of your nose, you only reacted with a scowl.

Your damp response instantly soured his expression. “Come on! Don’t be such a sourpuss!” He exclaimed, tugging at your arm.

Kyungsoo observed keenly as your gaze reluctantly turned to a euphoric Sehun. Through gritted teeth, you justified, “It’s my arch-nemesis’ wedding. What do you expect?”

Junmyeon was the Academic Director of Museum Studies at Seoul National University and Sehun was his favourite student, almost like a younger brother to him and as his biological sister, you somehow felt threatened by their relationship. Over the years, your insecurity had manifested in the way of an inexplicable resentment towards Sehun.

“Why did we even come, then?” Kyungsoo reasoned.

“To avoid having to listen to Junmyeon whinging and whining for an eternity,” you dead-panned.

“You mean the way I’ve been tolerating your whining ever since we received the wedding invite?” Kyungsoo grumbled.

Wagging your finger at him, you said, “That’s a low blow, Kyungsoo.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Kyungsoo pursed his lips and continued arguing with you, “Who even brings their own meal to a goddamn wedding?”

You rolled your eyes before listlessly scrolling through your phone. Kyungsoo understood exactly what you were upto. While you didn’t want anybody to fault you for skipping the wedding, you needed to make it known to everyone present that you were here merely out of courtesy.

On the other hand, Kyungsoo was quite fond of Sehun. The guy was fun and even-tempered and Kyungsoo truly admired people who were uncomplicated, people with whom he could freely speak his mind. It’s why he fell in love with you in the first place and stayed in love...despite all of your pettiness and quirks. Quirks that made Kyungsoo shake in his boots. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, pushed those thoughts out of his head and heaved a sigh of relief upon realizing that your eccentricity wouldn’t rear its ugly head at a family celebration.

He was jolted out of his reverie by Junmyeon who slammed a plate of dakgalbi in front of him. Kyungsoo immediately shoved his phone into an inside pocket of his blazer, inwardly reprimanding himself for behaving all the more suspiciously in front of your elder brother.

Squinting sceptically, Junmyeon remarked, “I didn’t see you at the buffet -”

“Ah - we’ve been meaning to -” Kyungsoo tried explaining the situation without having to put you in a spot. He thought, after an uncomfortably long pause, Junmyeon would drop the conversation, but he didn't. Kyungsoo gingerly ran his fingers over his brows to check if Junmyeon's intense glare had burned holes into his head. You on the other hand had your gaze fixed on your phone and didn’t break character even for a second - not even to help your husband out of an awkward conversation. So Kyungsoo picked up a pair of chopsticks to help himself to a piece of dakgalbi but Junmyeon slapped his hand away and snarled, “Ladies first.”

"O-of course," Kyungsoo stuttered, pushing the plate towards you.

"I don't wanna eat," you answered the two men, eyes now on a blank screen. Left with no choice, Kyungsoo slowly and sadly put his chopsticks down, his stomach making its annoyance known, while Junmyeon started to nag you for acting 'uppity as usual'.

Your show of indifference when Junmyeon animatedly whisper-scolded you, had started to make Kyungsoo anxious. The moment he tried to excuse himself to the bathroom, he felt your bare foot on his shoe and he froze into a still frame.

Kyungsoo shook his head at you and mouthed, 'Not now!' but you merely shot him a sweet smile in response.

"Are you even listening to me?" Junmyeon lambasted you.

"No and I haven't been listening for quite sometime now." Your reply sent a chill down Kyungsoo's spine. He was feeling a lot of things...all at once and with your toes boldly riding up his shin, he thought he'd burst at the seams. He made a mental note to have certain ground rules in place for situations like these - you weren’t much of a listener but this time he was sure to make himself heard.

"You won't be eating either?" Junmyeon asked Kyungsoo, shooting him yet another indignant glare. Kyungsoo smoothly moved his chair out of your reach but just as he extended his hand towards the plate, Junmyeon huffed angrily and walked away with it and Kyungsoo felt his heart sink to his stomach.

Tormenting Kyungsoo with a game of footsie for a while, you excused yourself to the ladies room. Ten minutes later, his phone chimed with a text from you.

'Can you come and get me? I think I'm lost.'

'No.' He replied. He was determined to not walk into your trap.

Kyungsoo clearly remembers the first time he was introduced to that side of your personality. Freshman year - it had been a few months since he'd asked you out. One evening, when things had gotten hot and heavy between the two of you, he had heard you say, 'Slap me, Soo.'

At first he thought he'd heard wrong so he ignored you but you said it again causing him to immediately pull away. Aghast, he asked, 'What did you say?'

'Slap me,' you blinked at him.

He intently studied your face - the most beautiful and the least punchable face he'd ever laid his eyes on. He wanted to do many things to you and all of them essentially involved making you feel loved and cherished and what you were asking of him was the exact opposite of how he felt about you. 

Eyes wide and lips pursed, you stood for a reaction but he would give you none. 

'Don't you love me?' You asked softly, batting your eyelashes at him. Little did you know, in that moment, he was too numb and too naked to make sense of the situation. 

At first he faulted his own personality. Kyungsoo was known to have picked a few fights here and there, had multiple piercings, and visible tattoos. Over the years, he got rid of it all and started dressing preppy but nothing changed. You still continued to ask of him something he was unwilling to give. So after a few ups and downs in your relationship, Kyungsoo finally reconciled with the fact that you were something of a sadist masochist only when it came to him.

His phone buzzed with your reply: 'The gardens at this hotel are ginormous. There's no staff here, I don't know how to find stupid lanky boy's stupid wedding party. I'm waiting by the restroom area please come and get me? ❤️'

Kyungsoo knew that you were directionally challenged. He'd test you at random and you could never tell left from right. Also, the lawn did sprawl over a considerable area but something just didn't feel right. Chewing on a hangnail, Kyungsoo sat thinking of a fitting reply only to receive another text from you.

A tempting one.

'If you come and get me now, we'll get out of here directly. No need to go back to the party.'

'What about your brother?' Asked Kyungsoo.

His phone blinked with a 'Pfft 🤪'

Patiently, he reiterated, 'I asked, what about your brother?'

'I promise I'll deal…'

'....?'

'Nicely 😘'

'Ok ❤️'

.

.

.

Kyungsoo gaped at you while you twirled his tie between your fingers and pleaded with him in a sultry voice, "Just once? Please?"

He was well aware that you knew for a fact he couldn't refuse you. Nevertheless, this time he firmly held his ground, "Are you crazy? Your entire family, your brother is just a couple metre's distance from here!"

"Kyungsoo please?" You caged him between a grainy concrete wall and your torso. The only respite to Kyungsoo in that situation was the fact that the area was poorly lit and there was not a soul in sight.

He cupped your face in his hands, planted a chaste kiss on your forehead and crouched down to whisper against your lips, "I'm not - I'm not sla- I'm not doing any of that here. Let's go home." After a lot of struggle, he finally managed to free himself from your Senior Superintendent General of Police grasp with a smirk on his face that said all your police training got nothing on him.

"Let's go," he held your hand and took a long stride towards the exit but you stayed firmly rooted to your place.

"Drag me out of here, then," you commanded.

You didn't budge and Kyungsoo wouldn't have caved under any other circumstance but…. he was hungry. Really hungry - making his stiff spine melt like candle wax. So he steeled himself, looked into your eyes, dropped his tone to a gruff, husky tenor, grabbed your wrist a little too tightly and threatened you, "Move your ass, __. Don't make me tell you again."

Exasperated, he rolled his eyes at the way yours twinkled at his crass behaviour.

"Gimme more," you said breathily.

The only way to get out of here was to stay in character so Kyungsoo did exactly that. He roughly pushed you against a wall (as gently as he could if it makes sense) and growled, "What makes you think you can act all buddy buddy with me, you ditz!" but before he could go any further he heard a man's voice yell, "How dare you!?"

Startled like a deer caught in headlights - in this case the flashlight of Junmyeon's latest iPhone - Kyungsoo turned around to find the brawny man leaping at him in attack mode at full throttle. Kyungsoo ducked, anticipating a heavy physical impact but it didn't come. He opened his eyes to you tackling Junmyeon to the ground and scolding him, "How dare you encroach upon our privacy and attack my husband!" while twisting his arm at every emphasis.

Very rarely was Kyungsoo grateful about the fact that you were a cop and this was one such occasion. He quickly moved to get you off of Junmyeon's back while the man cried out in pain, defending himself, "Pri-privacy? This is a bloody public place!"

Panting, you eventually let go of Junmyeon, fixed your hair and earrings and straightened your satin silk very pale pink dress (one that was almost white under the wrong lighting but despite Kyungsoo's repeated requests, you ended up in white at a wedding). But as soon as Junmyeon regained composure, he lunged to attack Kyungsoo again, screaming, "I always knew that there was something off about you!"

"Yah yah yahhhh!" You held Junmyeon back like you would do a violent criminal as Kyungsoo ducked again out of fear.

"Enough!" You shrieked at Junmyeon.

Kyungsoo's big brown eyes were fixed on your brother's terrifying demeanour as he barked, "I can't believe you're scolding me after what I just witnessed! That man, that man was hurting you!"

"That man? Better watch your tone Oppa, he's my husband!"

"You can't be that blinded by love or...whatever this is! Does he have something on you? You can tell me! You know I know all the right people to get you out of this mess -"

"Hyungnim -" Kyungsoo attempted to defuse the extremely tense situation but stopped short as you held your hand up at him.

"For heaven's sake, I'm happy, healthy, and safe in my marriage. That's all you need to know. Now go back to your baby brother's celebration and leave us alone!" Hand on your hip, you squeezed your eyes shut and pinched the bridge of your nose.

"I'm not going anywhere until you explain what just happened," Junmyeon glowered at Kyungsoo.

The younger man didn't know how to clarify this without embarrassing you and in a state of blind panic all he could think of admitting to some sort of a dissociative identity disorder. But before he could lose any more brownie points with your brother, you came to his rescue albeit not doing much to help his already strained relationship with Junmyeon.

"Kyungsoo, you don't have to tell him anything. You, Sir, talk to me. No need to drag my husband into this mess!"

Junmyeon scoffed before breaking into a hysterical laughter, "You're unbelievable, little sister. Unbelievable!"

Kyungsoo closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, and started, "Hyungnim, I- "

"You have the unmitigated gall to still be standing here!" Junmyeon snapped at Kyungsoo, causing the younger man to bury his face in his hands. When the brother sister duo fell silent, Kyungsoo looked up again to find Jumyeon taking furiously long strides towards the wedding party.

"I told you this was a bad idea," Kyungsoo said quietly, rubbing the corner of his eye, as you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his chest.

"I'll fix it, I promise. I'll speak to him when he's calmed down a little," you replied, softly patting your husband's back, "Do you want to stop at a McDonald's on our way back?

Kyungsoo chuckled, squeezing you in a tight hug and kissing the top of your head, "I hate you."

"I love you, too!" You chirped, and his features lit up with his beautiful heart-shaped smile.

"So? McDonald's?" You asked coyly.

He cradled your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours. When you drew a staggered breath in response, he felt a wave of heat flushing through him. You giggled against his lips causing Kyungsoo to firmly pull your body to his. He scooped you up in his arms, kissing you with an increased fervour and rendering you breathless.

Gently pulling away, he answered in a husky, gruff voice, "Sure, dumb bitch. Took you long enough."

[sunjaesol]

because your kiss is on my list

alternatively: four times juke snuck up on each other for affection and the one time they didn’t have to | based on the achingly beautiful fanart by @lovelyrugbee

1. 

Luke was being manic again. And not in a cute: “Oh my God, he’s so passionate about music!”-way, but in a: “He might actually tear his eyes out from these infuriating lyrics that aren’t working”-way. Every once in a while, songs didn’t flow out as easily as they usually did. The topic was a bit trickier, or the instrumentals didn’t mesh, or something was just off. Julie wasn’t too stressed about it. They had plenty of time to rework and fix things before the gig in two weeks. 

Unfortunately, Luke didn’t have the same mindset. 

He has been holed up in the studio all day, cramped on the windowsill to the point of submitting himself to a hernia and scrapping writing scrapping scrapping scrapping. The sound was infuriating, Alex being the first to poof out and Reggie following soon after when Ray became far more interesting than a guitarist going haywire. Which was sad, cause her dad was just unloading groceries. 

Alright. She had to do something. Standing at the doors of studio with a somewhat amused expression, she took in as her boyfriend was oblivious to the world and her. In any other situation, he’d notice and compliment the orange dress she was wearing. She thought about calling his name, maybe singing or jamming her fingers on the piano, but then a better idea came. A fun one.

Quietly slipping closer, a mischievous grin crawled on her lips. Thank God she was barefoot, or else her sneakers would’ve squeaked against the cement floors. He still hasn’t noticed her, the pinch between his brow so deep and lost in thought. 

Three, two, one... 

“Ah!”, she cried out like a warrior, snapping her arms around him from behind and snatching the damned songbook from his grasp. Before he could react, she smacked a wet kiss on his cheek and added a “Mwah!” for good measure. 

The startled Luke began chuckling, trying to get his book back, her peppering more kisses on his cheek in retaliation. He had to get out of this funk! Breathe a little! Turning his cheek to look at her, he smirked. “Sneaking kisses now, Jules?”

Julie hummed against his skin, eyes sparkling. Whispering in his ear, she said: “Stop breaking your head over these lyrics and relax. We have time.” 

His smile softened, gaze tracking the way she hugged him and then- “I like the dress you’re wearing.”

Ah, yes. There he was. 

2. 

Julie Molina truly made the afterlife less boring and a whole lot more bearable. Which became really apparent whenever she had an avalanche of homework and couldn’t hang out. Luke loved his boys, but damn did he miss his girlfriend a lot now. If the situation were different (you know, had he not been head over heels in love with her), he’d poof up to her room and annoy her until she came to the studio. Alas, he respected his girlfriend and her interest in getting good grades, so he had to deal with it. 

Bleh. “Dealing with it” was like a curse word to him. 

He hasn’t seen her all day though. She left early for school and didn’t pass by the studio when she got back. All he needed was a quick look and talk and maybe a hug and then he wouldn’t be so antsy. 

(What he’d give to wrestle her into cuddling right now. He was honestly blessed he found a girl who saw all of his need for affection and then gladly gave triple the amount.)

Yup. Screw homework. He had to see her. Without telling the boys, he stood up with a huff and poofed out. The offended “hey!” from Alex he ignored. 

Dropping into Julie’s room, a smile instantly bloomed on his face at the sight of her. She was on her bed, textbooks and notes splayed out in front of her while her curls danced with each breath she took. Even when tired, his girlfriend was pretty as hell. 

“Hey,” he grinned.

She didn’t look up and mumbled: “Hey.” A page turned. “What’re you doing here?”

Luke sat down on the edge of her bed, far enough so her pens wouldn’t roll away. “Haven’t seen you today. I missed you.”

This time she did look up, her weary eyes softening and smiling. “I missed you too. I have homework though, so...” The implication was there: please leave so I can finish. His hope for a hug quickly dwindled.

“Yeah,” he muttered, not ready to go back and get slapped by Alex. “Uh...” His eyes fell on her right hand, slightly more outstretched then the other. It just... laid there. Teasing him. Freaking tantalising him when he knew how good it felt whenever those fingers brushed his cheeks or raked his hair. 

It happened before he thought about it. Crawling onto the mattress, he snatched her hand and pressed soft kisses on the knuckles. Julie caught his gaze again, that smile he loved so much melting into an adoring puff - like she couldn’t believe this idiot was her boyfriend.

He didn’t mind being her idiot.  

3.

Sometimes, Julie was just that more adorable. Like now, with her hair spread around her shoulders and that small smile stuck on her lips and her eyes that seemed impossibly soft today. All for him, only for him. 

Sure, it was probably because they were working on one of their personal songs, but the fact remained that his girlfriend still left him rendered speechless months into dating.

“What if we try it in a lower key?”, Julie proposed, nodding at his guitar. 

The song in question was a song about them. It wasn’t so lovey-dovey that it would turn the guys off, but it was still blatant. Only they would write about ‘the sea glass green of his eyes’ and ‘the smile that put Mona Lisa to shame’. 

He did what she asked, her singing the same verse again. It held more depth now, soulful and lively. The rasp in her tone made it playful and egged him on to join, like it was truly banter between lovers put to music. It was them. It was her. It was-

Luke abruptly stopped playing, pushed his guitar aside and grabbed onto her. She hardly had time to chuckle as he pressed his lips onto her forehead and held her as tight as possible. Warmth filled his chest, that strange sensation of being loved and loving back twice as hard, as she clutched his body. He almost got choked up. Here he was, in the sundrenched studio with the girl he adored playing the music they created together and she was singing it in such a quintessentially ‘them’ way. No one but them would ever truly understand the magic they conjured. How it was only explained through grins melting on skin and the giddy skip in his heartbeat. 

“What’s that for?”, she smiled. 

His hand trailed from her back to her cheeks with an elated shrug. How could he explain to her her ‘Julie-ness’ was dialled up to two hundred without sounding insane? Caressing the skin, he murmured instead: “I guess you’re just irresistible today.”   

Her eyes squeezed shut at his words, like she was embarrassed how much delight it brought her, and pressed her face back in his shoulder. 

Letting that giddy skip in his chest kiss her again, he gently pulled away to sent her a wink. “Let’s finish ‘Wicked Love’, yeah?”

4.

“So, Flynn’s been thinking-”

“Mh-hm.”

“-about a new poster for the gig we’re playing. The old one is a little amateur and she made some new concepts. Wanna see?” Julie held her phone at his face, his hand leaving the strings of his guitar to gently push it back. Falling back on the bed, she frowned. 

“Maybe later, I’m figuring out this progression...” His back bend over his guitar again, only giving her a view of the black muscle tee. 

When Luke told her he wanted to hang out that Saturday afternoon, she had hoped it would be a bit more ‘Julie and Luke’ and not ‘Luke and His Guitar’ - alas, the girlfriend was competing with a piece of wood and some metal. While texting Flynn about graphic design was fun, it was time for Luke to start doing what he promised her.

Then again, she was a sucker for music talk. “Why don’t you try switching up the chords? Start with G instead of C.”

He tried it out, a grin crawling on his cheeks. “Yeah... yeah, that works. Thanks, Jules.”

“So?”, she sang. 

“Hm?”

With a sigh, she grabbed onto the strap of his guitar and gave it a tug. Luke’s neck rolled backwards in surprise, catching her playful smile.  

Chastely pecking his forehead, she said: “Your head is in the clouds.”

The teasing look of his matched hers. “You’re kissing my head right now.”

“Mh-hm,” she mumbled, loving the way his hair had that perpetual scent of apple and something inherently Luke. Kissing the locks, she added: “And you’ll be getting a lot more if you actually start hanging out with me.”

His book and instrument slid off his body just like that as he speared her into hug. Luke collapsed onto her body with the cutest grin and she knew she caught him. Their laughs chimed throughout the house for the rest of the day. 

+5.

Luke poofed onto her bed with a grin, his girlfriend automatically snuggling into his side and finding each other’s lips with ease. For a beat, they’re cherished the quiet passion shared between them. They didn’t need to do a lot to feel loved by the other. 

He pressed his nose into her curls. “How was school?”

“Good,” Julie whispered against his neck. “How was the studio?”

“Chill. Reggie scared a spider.”

She giggled, the sound making his grin widen and hide his face so she wouldn’t see how ridiculously giddy she made him. Turning her head so she’d see him anyway, her nose scrunched. “I know you’re smiling.”

“That’s my line, Molina,” he huffed, the teasing glint shimmering in his eyes. 

A signature brow quirked. “You got that on paper?”

He didn’t miss a second. “I love you.” He didn’t need to ponder or linger or rewrite or scrap or workshop the thought. It wasn’t even a thought. It was a truth and he’d repeat that truth over and over again until the universe knew it too and kept it in their books for centuries to come. He loved her, he loved her, he loved her. 

The smile that came was worth the truth, how her love for him broke through without a moment of hesitation. Now she’d say the same, over and over and over again, so the universe knew they were talking about each other and would always keep their names together in said books. 

Julie kissed him again, long and sweet and as easy as breathing. Her utters were barely audible, but his heart caught it. “I love you too.”

Locked in their embrace, they shared earphones listening to their favourite music until they fell asleep. (How Luke could fall asleep, but only when in her loving touch, he wouldn’t question. Some oddities of the universe were best unsaid.) 

@blush-and-books @unsaid-emily @bluefirewrites @willexx @ourstarscollided @alexjulies

[creativeashproductions]

Curiosity // Luke Patterson

Summary: After filling up another journal designed his songbook Luke is left empty handed. With the offer to a shelf of blanket journals is given he’s immediately choosing. But Luke’s curiosity leads him to a discovery. In other words Luke finds Perfect Harmony in Reader’s bedroom.

Requested: Yes by @averyharrypotterlife​ 

Warnings: None.

Words: 1.7 (including lyrics)

A/N: Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the 5000+ followers whether it was years ago and you didn’t unfollow or in the future. Thank you for enjoying and interacting in something I’ve always loved: writing.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

Luke’s always been a curious person going as far back as his early childhood. The most consistent evidence being during the Christmas holidays. Until he was ten, yes, he’s aware that his friends stopped believing in Santa way earlier. The young lad would stay up hidden in the living room waiting to catch Santa. Without fail, Luke would wake up in his outer space planet sheets having fallen asleep in his mission.

When he was twelve years old, he was left at his aunt and uncle’s house for the weekend due to a work-related thing. His older cousin was eighteen at the time and at college, so Luke stayed in his bedroom. Luke couldn’t help but snoop through Bryan’s personal items, and in a drawer with a false bottom, he discovered magazines.

Luke had a lot of fun that weekend diligently going through the magazines his mother would skin his hide even knowing about them. He may have had to use the excuse of having a cold for the entire box of Kleenex missing. No one was the wiser on that weekend.

Now when Luke was fourteen years old, he had snuck into the Rated R film Candyman with Alex and Reggie. Luke’s parents had been strict in their rules and definitely had shot down the question of seeing the film. The three didn’t sleep with the lights out for a month after that, and the truth came out when no lie was sufficient to their concerned parents.

Luke Patterson didn’t care about boundaries. Why ask for permission when you can just ask for forgiveness? It worked with going through Julie’s dream box, but all personal items got hidden from the ghostly guitarist.

“No!” Luke exclaimed flipping through his song journal once more in hopes of a blank page. The frustration in his body snapping the pencil he had been using.

“You good?” You questioned glancing up from the essay you graded as a teacher’s assistant for an AP course. Luke’s frustrated brown met yours with a cute pout on his lips.

“I’ve filled my journal up. I hate using loose-leaf, but no money means no buying things.” Luke roughly scrubbed one hand on his face.

“You could always just forever borrow one from the- “Luke quickly shot that down with a look of absolute horror, “Okay…so stealing a no.”

“I did listen to my parents on certain aspects. I would never steal anything, other than the food when we didn’t have enough cash.” Luke’s brown hue had softened back into the hazel that caused flutters in your heart, “I have no respect for thieves.”

You nodded before scribbling a suggestion on the paper in dark red, “I have a shelf in my room dedicated solely to blank journals. If you want to, you can take one free of charge.”

With a quick smile, Luke disappeared from the room to your personal domain he sometimes hung out with you in. You had no misgivings on the teen finding solace in your room and gave him free rein; your prized possessions hidden very well.

Luke appeared in the soft blue and lilac bedroom with the queen white iron wrought style bed in the middle. A white desk in the corner with a multitude of bookcases and shelves in the room. The desk chair neatly pushed into the desk as well he went straight to the shelf.

Journals of all colours and styles with a label on the shelf noting them as empty. It was packed with dozens, but it was the midnight blue one that called to the boy. In his reach, he bumped an emerald green one off the edge. It opened having hit the edge of the desk.

As he leaned down, he noticed notations in the margins, now remember how Luke is a curious guy? He only hesitated a second before he was reading the pages of words in your signature script.

The guilt flared for a second before he justified it as being on the shelf you declared free game. So Luke settled sitting criss-cross against the side of your bed reading the words so eloquently written. Even notes allowed Luke to hear the melody in his mind.

Assignment: Write a piece of literature from two points of views. Genre doesn’t matter as long as it is a minimum of one page and not exceed eight.

Step into my world

Bittersweet love story ’bout a girl

Shook me to the core

Voice like an angel

I’ve never heard before

The words took his breath away, recalling a moment he gushed to Alex on how he had caught you singing. He had described your voice as being angelic, and it took him by complete surprise. He remembered Julie, and you entered the room shortly after with a nervous feeling if you had heard. Now Luke had his answer. His phantom heart pounded in anticipation for the reply to this first point of view.

Here in front of me

They’re shining so much brighter

Than I have ever seen

Life can be so mean

But when he goes, I know he doesn’t leave

The smile threatened to split his face with the elation as he continued reading with a subconscious hum. His fingers tapping the sides of the paper as his hazel irises tinged green ate up the words.

The truth is finally breaking through

Two worlds collide when I’m with you

Our voices rise and soar so high

We come to life when we’re

In perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

The world faded as Luke distinctly heard your angelic voice singing the parts he could easily recognize as perfect for you. There was something so powerful in this incredibly personal song only intended for your eyes and your teachers.

The next handful of lines left him breathless and astonished as he visualized not sitting across from each other. But engaging in another art form that can be so incredibly intimate for people; he imagined singing this while holding you in his arms.

You set me free

You and me together is more than chemistry

Love me as I am

I’ll hold your music here inside my hands

We say we’re friends, we play pretend

You’re more to me, we’re everything

Our voices rise and soar so high

 We come to life when we’re

 In perfect harmony

 Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

 Perfect harmony

 Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

 Perfect harmony

Luke went from humming to softly singing to the heartfelt tune with a flutter of butterflies deep in his stomach. When Julie saw Unsaid Emily, he had denied it as an experiment, and it was the truth. Luke wrote rock anthems and rock-pop with his living friend. He never dabbled into romantic ones.

He’d never read something so poetically beautiful it felt him weeping at the sheer amount of feelings.

I feel your rhythm in my heart

Yeah yeah yeah

You are my brightest burning star

Whoah whoah oh

I never knew a love so real (so real)

We’re heaven on earth

Melody and words

When we’re together we’re

In perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

We say we’re friends (we play pretend)

You’re more to me (we create)

Perfect harmony

His eyes found the last line of the song setting him back in a dead silence returning to the start to reread it. On his third read, he found the notes from your teacher on a separate page.

Y/N, in my years of teaching, I’ve never read something with such meaning behind it. The longing, passion, respect and love you artfully encapsulated is rare. To have written, this means you’ve felt this. No corrects needed, and I felt compelled to not mark on the piece. Thank you for being vulnerable with me, for letting me step inside your mind and please never let this emotion fade.

Your grade is A+.

Luke’s lips pulled apart at the genuine words your teacher had written because it indeed was a word of art. Carefully Luke returned the notebook back to the shelf to retrieve the blue one that caught his attention. AS he turned, he found you leaning against the door frame with a soft smile.

“I am so sor-“

“No.” You replied, walking into the room, “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. I told you any notebook on that shelf. I can’t get mad, and I’ve seen you can’t leave something half-read.”

“Probably why my book reports were insanely well done in school.” Luke joked as you stepped in his personal space. The tension faded from his shoulders as he took in your features, “You got a perfect grade.”

“I did.” You simply spoke, staring up into his eyes, “You helped me with it.”

“How?”

“You told Alex what you felt about my voice. You looked nervous when I walked in, so I let it go. It wasn’t the time to bring it up. It’s called Perfect Harmony.” You told the ghost gently grazing your fingertips on his hand. The feeling sends shudders down his spine.

“I guess it just wasn’t the right time. With the band and-“

“-the whole soul owning thing. Too much but now that you’ve read that…what do you feel?” You hesitantly asked because reading it and discovering how someone feels is another to if the feelings are reciprocated back.

“That I was always meant to live in 2020. That I was meant to love you with every atom in my very being.” Luke murmured before he crashed his lips onto your own in a searing kiss that had your toe-curling.

The midnight blue journal dropped to the floor as his large calloused hands cupped your face to feel the warmth. The very journal would be filled with songs all about this person, Luke adored not matter his state as a ghost. Two worlds collided just as two souls came together in perfect harmony.

So, wrapped up in each other Luke didn’t notice something magical encased in the warm love. In the bedroom, the two teens were kissing in had two distinct heartbeats with a glow emanating from Luke Patterson.

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[kikilefangirl]

New Beginnings For Late Bloomers

Bucky Barnes x Reader

(Word Count: 2.4k)

You answered the Wakandan prince and princess’ call almost immediately. You quietly and swiftly made your way from your room, taking the familiar route south to the lab.

King T’Chaka’s death was so recent that his presence was still very much felt around the palace. Everyone, of all ranks, collectively mourning the loss. As you passed through the halls, you thought of his children—you couldn’t imagine losing your father, especially in such a jarring way. You bristled before turning the corner, bracing yourself for whatever was on the other side.

A pale skinned, dark haired man appeared to be sleeping in a large tube. Beside it, Prince T’Challa and Princess Shuri were in deep conversation with another white man, this one blonde. He stood opposite them and face to face with you.

You weren’t one for rudeness, but you had never seen a white man in person before, and it was strange. You found yourself switching back and forth between the and his sleeping friend. The first and second white men you had seen up close. They both had white skin tinged with pink, and their hair really was bone straight. The blonde gave you a warm smile, maintaining a slight recline and dropped shoulders.

You weren’t very good at interrupting or with strangers; your shyness was a terrible hindrance, and it was a wonder you even had friends in the royal family. The stranger’s reaction saved you the trouble, causing both siblings to do the same. Immediately, your eyes drifted the man in the tube, lightly pressing your fingers on the glass.

T’Challa cleared his throat and gestured at the blonde, “Y/N, this is Captain Rogers.”

You nodded at him and followed his downward gaze––to the other white man. Because you were closer, you could see his breath fog up the glass in front of his nose.

“We need you to watch over Sergeant Barnes while he is within our borders,” Shuri said. Though he looked relatively peaceful, what this Sergeant Barnes was like when he was awake must be hard.

“Your daily tasks will be to tend to him.” T'Challa explained.

Your gaze softened when you glanced at Captain Rogers. His concern was plain to see, enough to make you muster up whatever courage you had to speak.

“I will do as I am asked. Sergeant Barnes will be well cared for during his time here.” You replied. You gave him a small smile.

The man nodded at your reassurance, and you excused yourself. You had a lot of work ahead of you.

…

The sound of giggling and shuffling feet took you out of your reverie.

You were greeted to the sight of children laughing and chasing each other on the river bank. You smiled at their antics, but had to shoo them away. They were playing outside of Sergeant Barnes’—erm, Bucky’s hut while he was sleeping. You noticed how little the man allowed his body to rest, and you did your best to prolong it.

You knew the kids had broken his sleep, so you entered his hut, anyway. As you expected, the man was on his back looking at you with heavy lidded eyes.

“Please, try and go back to sleep,” you whispered, averting your gaze.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him tilt his head back on his bed. You took the opportunity to light an incense on the outer edge of the hut while you went about your daily tasks. It was the one that usually lulled him back to sleep, but Bucky was wide awake.

You occupied yourself with menial work in an effort to ignore his eyes on you. You were taking out an old blanket but when you touched the other side, you felt a thick, runny liquid. The harsh smell of iron hit your nostrils almost immediately.

Blood.

“I had another one after you left.” A raspy voice called from behind you.

You quickly wrapped the blanket in your arms, doing your best to hide the sight. Bucky was sitting up; he may have been looking at you, but his eyes were much farther away. The color wasn’t familiar to you, but the distant sadness in them was. You could see fresh scratches poking out from his tunic and the slight grimace on his face.

Gently, you set the blanket back down and grabbed the tin of shea butter from your supply bag. You unscrewed the cap and scooped the product out. You made your way to his bed, sitting on your knees beside him.

You pulled the cloth down to reveal the familiar nub where his arm used to be.

“Your head therapy with Dr. Amari has been switched to Tuesdays and Thursdays, for now. Shuri needs time to grieve the king and the mind must come before the body, in your case. ” You said softly, applying the shea butter evenly and without fanfare.

Bucky was leaning away from you, but he nodded nonetheless. You never had to yell or shout to get his attention––he always heard you, no matter how quiet you were.

When you were done, Bucky offered you a tired smile, but you couldn’t return it. You felt your face get hot and averted your gaze. It was different when you had nothing more to do, and he was just staring at you.

“I will get you new bedding and clothing when I return.”

You darted out of the hut as fast as you could, only stopping to let out the breath you had been holding.

…

“I don’t know if your treatment is working, Shuri.”

The princess was busy working on a new project. With heavy protective goggles on, and a wicked grin, there was no telling what she was up to. Carefully, Shuri shut the lid on it, and spun towards you.

You held up the bloody fabric, and Shuri frowned.

“Ah, Y/N, Sergeant Barnes’ brain will take more work than his body.” She said, scanning the blanket.

“He claws at himself while he sleeps.” You replied. The memories of his episodes were so clear in your mind. For a man who was fairly quiet and calm, in those moments he was mechanical and unflinchingly cruel. It was the first time a cold feeling settled in the pit of your stomach and it was truly awful.

Shuri was periodically glancing up at you as she read Bucky’s file. The farther she read, the more the princess looked puzzled. She clicked her tongue, then suddenly clapped loudly. The sound made you jump.

“Shuri!” You hissed. The girl was bouncing on the balls of her feet, animatedly. An especially devious smirk made its way onto her face.

“He is from New York City, ah! The city where dreams are made of!” She sang. Her off key version made you cringe at first, but a smile soon replaced it.

The Wakandan princess’s bubbly mood was the thing you enjoyed most about her. She was always so excited to explore and plot anything she wanted; it was refreshing to see.

“Take Sergeant Barnes to the market! It is a city environment to remind him of home.” Shuri exclaimed wildly.

Your eyes widened in horror at her suggestion. Shuri lit up, her ideas kept coming.

“He needs you to go with him. It can be a date!” You nearly choked.

“Princess Shuri!” You cried out. It was actually more of a high pitched squeak.

You gazed down at the blanket. It’s rich brown color was tinged with a darker one. The sickly smell of blood—Bucky’s blood—still invaded your senses. Your job was to care for him while he was in your country’s custody.

You sighed and agreed.

…

Bucky knew something was wrong the second you found the blanket.

The slight downturn of your chin as the realization dawned on you—he should’ve buried it when he had the chance.

The scratches were deep this time, but Bucky healed fast. It had been just over eleven hours since they happened. He had since changed into new clothes, so as to spare you from seeing the gashes, but he didn’t have the tools to get rid of the blood on hand.

Bucky heard your approaching steps, and went out to greet you. It was the height of the late afternoon heat; the dark haired man could see you approach through the vapors.

He knew it had been a long time since he’d been around a woman as Bucky, not the Winter Soldier. That was the exact reason why he wasn’t used to how you looked then. Your deep brown skin glowed as you came closer. A gold armband sat on your upper left arm, shining in the sunlight. You had on a green two-piece, decorated in bright Wakandan prints.

Bucky missed his phantom limb during times like this. It meant he was still capable of being the smooth, confident guy from Brooklyn and not the mess he truly was. He shifted his weight, bracing himself for your arrival.

…

“Would you like to come with me to the market?” You asked.

You wouldn’t look up at him for more than a second, but you did sit near him during the escort over. On his left side, too.

Once you two made it to the market entrance, it was in full swing. Hundreds of people were mingling through the stalls. A woman was haggling a tailor for a shoddy job he’d done. The smell of spices and roots hung in the air.

You snuck a glance at Bucky, giggling at the curious stares he received. And what a strange sight he was—a very white man in Wakanda. It was unheard of.

“I was told you were from New York City. Manhattan?” You said.

Bucky turned to you, mildly offended.

“Brooklyn, doll. Real different.” He said. You watched him inhale, taking in the bustling vendors and patrons.

You put a slight pressure on his shoulder, leading him to a street show. The performance was fun and free as the drummers played their sing song rhythms. Even you felt the urge to sway your hips to the beat.

A crowd had gathered, stomping and clapping as they went along, growing more boisterous as the dancers went on. Lost in the moment, you failed to notice Bucky’s balled fists and his blank stare. The only reason you did, was because in the middle of your small dance, you bumped into a hard body. The way you bounced off of him jostled you back to reality.

You got him some water, pouring it on your hand and then on his forehead. The cold shock worked, but with it came those scared, disoriented eyes. Ordinarily, you wouldn’t try and steer the big man any direction. You never could, Bucky was just kind enough to oblige most times. This time, he seemed so splintered, he followed without protest.

You led Bucky into an empty alleyway.

“I’m sorry. Please, let me take you back.” You said, apologetically.

You thought it would help him, not this. You leaned back on the wall opposite to him, waiting for Bucky to decide what to do. Slowly, heavy breathing subsided and he lifted his head from the ground.

“I don’t want you to think I didn’t like it. I did. But the people and the sounds and the—I know I was raised in a big city, but it’s been a long time since then.” Bucky said, finally.

He met your concerned gaze and almost looked relieved. The man stood up to his full height in one swift motion.

“I don’t think I like them anymore.” He admitted in a low, gravelly voice.

Your heart sank at his omission. Bucky had no idea who he was anymore, or what made him happy. He needed some peace that didn’t come from his place at the river, that was too familiar.

“I know a place you might enjoy, but it will take time to get there.”

Bucky had complete faith in you, and nodded imperceptibly.

…

It was a quiet ride up the mound.

By now, it was nearing dusk. The sky was a vibrant mix of purples and oranges and reds. Bucky hadn’t spoken again, and you hadn’t pressed him.

“It’s an undeveloped hot spring, Prince T’Challa and I found it together as children. No one will bother us here.”

You stalked through the heavy foliage with a clear head, muscle memory guiding the way to the cave. You were very aware of Bucky’s silent presence behind you. He navigated the vegetation with ease, carrying the food and water in a basket.

You huffed just taking the towels and blanket, and he looked unfazed. The both of you finally reached the mouth of the cave as soon as the last rays of sunlight faded. You watched as Bucky’s face darkened in the dim light.

“There are lights on the far end, vibranium powered so they will last.” You said. Bucky had far better sight than you, and he successfully found and turned them on.

He pointed the bright light toward the cave ceiling, setting off a series of shadows and patterns above you. You smiled softly, satisfied with your work. Bucky was still shook up from the market, but once he stepped into the hot spring he physically seemed more comfortable.

“Don’t stay in too long, it could be dangerous,” you warned him. A blast of warm air hit you, and you laid down on the blanket.

“Got it.” Bucky replied.

Occasionally, you heard the sound of water sloshing around, but you were too lazy to turn your head. There was no one around for miles to interrupt the calm, so you finally closed your eyes.

You heard water streaming to the cave floor as Bucky drew nearer. You thought nothing of it, until you felt warm, sopping wet hands wrap around you. You gasped the intrusion—if you hadn’t known who it was you would’ve screamed.

Bucky pulled you into him. Your face rested on his bare chest, catching the heat emanating from his warm skin. You didn’t have time to freak out.

What he did next wasn’t quite like a cry. The noise was so soft you thought you misheard it at first. It was a strangled, ghost of a sob.

“I-I can’t stop saying I don’t know.”

Bucky clung to you, letting all of his frustration and pain roll off him in waves. You took your cheek off his chest, the warm water leaving your face hotter than normal.

You stopped Bucky before he could recoil—gripping his shoulder.

“Horrific things happened to you Bucky, and I am sorry for that,” you started, staring off at the hot spring behind him. Steam rolled off its surface and wafted upwards and into nothing.

“You are rebuilding yourself and that is alright.”

Bucky peered down at you with a hardened kind of fascination. His eyes raked over you and he broke out in a grateful smile. A true smile.

“Thank you.”

He paused as he regarded you, dropping his shoulders.

“Doll? Can I kiss you?” The request sent you toppling over on the inside. You swallowed hard.

“Why?” Your voice was small. It was the cost to stare Bucky in the eyes while you asked. He needed to see how dead serious you were. You could be fragile, too. You blinked rapidly in anticipation, trying to concentrate over the roar of blood rushing through your veins.

“You never asked me to be someone, now I can be someone else.”

Your jaw dropped. You mustered all the courage you had and met his lips. The kiss was hesitant and soft. There were no expectations, just a sweet moment for two people that needed more of them.

[herstarburststories]

Home in a Motel Pool

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: Dean and you have some fun in the motel's pool.

A/N: This one took a little longer than I thought, but here it's! Wet Dean in motel pool for us. So canon compliant of me, I know I know. This piece is my submission for @deanwanddamons 's 1st Blogiversary and 2K follower celebration with the prompt in bold. Congrats again, honey! And it's also my part for @anaelsbrunette 's YAS’S POC READER CHALLENGE with the song Home by Depeche Mode. Thanks for the extra time and the marvelous challenge!

Warnings: sex in the pool, p in v, dirty talk

Hunting was brutal. Even when the hunters won, it was a victory with no triumph-- there would be someone dead, always a corpse and loved one weeping as a reminder that you and the Winchesters couldn’t save everyone. You’d come around the town, tell the folks what they wanted to hear to get some information, kill the thing, and luckily save a person or two. It was a page from the emptiest stage, a show for a crowd of three: you, Sam, and Dean. Their own critics and praisers, doctors and patients, sinners and saints.

And if your hands were melted and molded into killing machines, you better pray for your heart to be made of anything but gold. That job didn't leave space or time for tenderness. In order to hunt the prey, you must become ferocious. Attack anything on sight, sing to the loneliest sound that’s the gunshot in the dark, pretend that you’ll make amends only to end up befriending the glorious end of the line that often came too soon.

Thing is, it wasn’t just about that. It would be easier if it was all about perfect soldiers and ultimate killers. A black and white world stained with crimson red would be the ideal, but there were always more colors.

Certainly, it wasn’t the most illustrious job one could get. If anything, it was unfair and underpaid and the seed of violence. Every hunter happened to do things they never could speak about, and all the blood got so normalized to the point red is just the color that pointed you were doing it right. like a good grade or a father’s head pat. Where was the seat on the table for any gentless to sit down in the chaos? In the thankful hugs from the mothers of the rescued children, in the pranks the boys came up with against each other for no other reason but childish nostalgia, in the nights where the three of you stopped and sat on Baby’s hood to watch the stars in silence, in the way Dean’s tough hands touched your cheek so lovingly, in the smell of the Impala’s wheels burning against the streets. Summarizing, when saving people wasn’t reasoning enough, kindness appeared glistening in the middle of the pandemonium, as a paragon of something good in cruelty.

Just like this moment.

‘’My body aches in places I didn’t even know that could hurt.’’ You groaned as you got out of the classic black car, hand on the back of your neck to apply some pressure. Even being thrown against a wall by some demon hurt less than sleeping in the backseat-- sweet mundane problems.

Sam scoffed before adding insult to injury, ‘’At least you were sleeping and didn’t have to hear the same cassette three times.’’

‘’Quit whining, you two. I was the one driving through two states.’’ Dean said in a huff, swirling the keys as the three of you walked towards Bonita Motel’s entrance. He placed an arm around your waist, his own way of showing affection in quietude. Your hand slipped inside his leather jacket’s pocket. ‘’Sides’, Baby’s backseat is comfortable and Zeppelin is awesome.’’

The youngest Winchester refrained his response to an eye roll and a mumble among the lines not when played three times in a row. You, though, turned your head to the side and offered your stubborn boyfriend a cynical smile.

‘’I prefer a bed.’’

He aimed at you with his signature lopsided grin, the one he knew that you loved, while you passed through the main door of the establishment. ‘’That’s not what you said last week.’’

‘’Guys, limits.’’ Sam pleaded, shaking his head at Dean’s comment before turning around. He made a chatter that quickly got old with the woman behind the counter, gaining two keys. The long haired hunter tossed one at his brother, who quickly grabbed it with his free hand.

‘’This is a good motel…’’ You commented as the three walked upstairs, the gleaming blue sight caughting your brown eyes. Your whole body shone as if it was really a beach and not only a cheap motel’s pool. Dean and Sam had never gone to the beach, but you grew up with salt aired weekends, a collection of swimsuits, and a loud family on the sand. You missed the sensation of being held by the ocean so dearly. It wouldn’t be the same, nothing was after you jumped in Dean’s Impala in New York; hustling for some other life, a better one like your parents when they came to the United States. Yet, a pool could be diverting and cozy. Pulling away from your man’s hold, you approached the small chlorine miracle. 

‘’There’s a pool!’’ You pointed out, as excited as a kid in a carnival. ‘’We should take a swim.’’

‘’You guys go. I have some research to do.’’ Sam nodded at the pool with his head, denying the request with a sleight of hand as he opened the lock of the room 209. ‘’Have fun, kids.’’

The green eyed man clicked his tongue when his brother disappeared with the craike of a door. He wasn’t exactly against the idea of jumping in the pool - apart from the germes, but his paranoia wouldn’t mind that much, not after trying endless motel’s bathtubs. The drive here had just been too long. Besides, if that crap motel had a well-cleaned pool, it probably had vibrating beds. He could use a massage. ‘’I think I’ll get crash in bed.’’

You arched an eyebrow. ‘’Didn’t you say that Baby’s backseat was comfortable to sleep?’’

‘’How taller than you I am, sweetheart?’’ He smirked as you walked back to him like you always did, your own north star in shape of a magnetic force of a man,

‘’Shush.’’ You slapped his chest playfully, wrapping your arms around Dean’s neck. ‘’Come on. Most motels we go to barely have a door, much less a pool. I miss going swimming. It’s a sunny day…’’ The childish joy in your tone metamorphosed into a newfound malice. ‘’You’ll get to see me in a bikini.’’

The Winchester wiggled his messy brows at your statement, suddenly reinvigorated as he placed his arms around your waist to bring you closer. Forget the body ache and all that, that was a way better reason to be sore in the bones later. ‘’You made some good points.’’

‘’I always do.’’ You kept the adamant tone, even when you could feel his breath on your cheek, those green eyes so livid when looking at you. God, you had to put a period here before things escalated and you two ended up getting to right in the middle of the hall. You attempt to make a joke: ‘’Darling it’s better, down where it’s wetter.’’

He knew it was a prompt from The Little Mermaid-- you two had watched two days ago in Tupelo, in a vintage television after killing a Ghoul, while Sam got some junk food. Yet, the kind of smile that brought to his face held anything but purity. A simple conversation became double-edged with Dean Winchester. You two often ended up breathless, either from fighting or from doing more entertaining dances. You should’ve seen that one coming.

‘’I know another wet spot.’’ He’d say, unholy significance trapped in each word as his right hand started to motion over your skin, guiding his greedy finger under your skirt. Your mouth was set in a grim line, a surprisingly determinate attempt to hold back a moan. You and Dean could do it in the pool, unite the good infant memories with the tent-like emotions of adulthood to make a grand deal.

‘’You’ll get all of me wet.’’ You kissed the corner of his lips, smoothly pulling away with a wink. So much self control. ‘’Hurry up, cowboy.’’

You grabbed your bag and rushed to room 208 to change your clothes, leaving an astonished, mildly turned on Winchester behind. Getting in the bathroom, which didn't stink for once, you swiftly changed into the bikini. A jade green one, directly from Brazil’s brand Cia Maritma. If you squint your eyelids hard enough, you could still put a name to each face that was with you when you wore it for the first time in the calmer days. All the long gone friends and the daily sunbath in your caramel skin.

Decided to leave the past well enough alone, you just smiled in melancholy and turned around, facing your reflex in the mirror. You looked hot. Dean surely would agree about that, especially with the way the top brought up your breast.

Arriving in the room to your boyfriend ready for the swim, you couldn’t help checking him out. You were attracted to the way the righteous man’s body was built since the first glance, addicted since the first touch. His shoulder, the freckles on his nose, and the way he wasn’t all defined, yet had the muscles right in the certain spots. You took off your hairpin, hair falling on your shoulder into a brown sea, like the waves crashing against the ocean rocks. The smell of your sweat and orange monopolizing the edges of everywhere, mainly Dean’s senses. He relished on how soft your skin was compared to his, how your accent tingled his insides, and the way you swing your hips while walking. Your boobs almost jumping at his face because of the tiny bikini only aroused him more.

The place had to get some credit. For a dive motel, it was more than they’d picture. Manageable bathrooms and safe locks, the pool glimmering blue with a small tree by the right side. It was gorgeous.

A dazzling breeze whispered through your bodies, causing you to shiver slightly and Dean to get sweet smelling sheets clinging to his knees and feet. Fucking tree. You could taste the friction swallowing the atmosphere, a report of what was near.

Before you could say anything, Dean grumbled as he pokes a leaf away. ‘’It’s gonna rain.’’

‘’It will.’’ You agreed, holding his hand to pull him closer, well-aware that your body would scare away any linger of adorable grumpiness. ‘’But who cares about raining when you’re in a pool?’’

It's the kind of question that doesn't need an answer, it briefly exists to make Dean distracted in wonder just now, a pause between seconds as you jump in the pool first. The water splashing around with a brutal sound. Your body seems to recall an old memory, how you made a lark of anything with your siblings in the sea,  how you used to feel like the beaches were a peculiar way of God to show the living how his touch would feel like. Every fiber of your body missed this.

Dean went in too, emerging to the marvelous sound of your laugh. He glanced at you, now less of a hunter and more of a man. The drops on your face could easily be confused with tears, yet the way you grinned and threw water at him couldn’t leave space for any other world but happiness. The Winchester often noticed your longing for cultural things that you no longer had in the palm of your hand. It was stupid, he even felt somehow resposible for taking you away of everything you ever knew only to coaxe you through the road not taken— full of bumps and blood and undecked halls. Then you’d smile, you’d wrap your arms around him like you were doing in that exact moment, and he would see that the drops all over your face are flickering with your chortle.

What other choice would Dean have, what other option could he ever make himself pick, if not to place his hands on your hips? So it goes. He put his rough hand on your, each tender touch seeming to make the bruises there clear up.

The hunter was leaning in to kiss you as a wave of water met his face.

‘’Ops!’’

He narrowed his eyes, spilling out the water. ‘’You are gonna pay for this.’’

‘’I’d like to see you try, Kansas boy.’’

Yeah, you once were raised in the water, such an important part of your identity which you didn't wish to lose, yet slowly slipped beyond your reaches. But you had Dean, you had adventure, and you had the motel’s shitty pool. If you could find contentment in that, you should know that who you were wasn’t lost. You were still the five years old who played in the plastic pool, the seventeen girl who grabbed your cellphone’s lantern and went looking for what was making a noise at 3am, the twenty years old who jumped in a car with two hunters and a craving for finding her true home. You were all of them at once. 

Heaven sent the only true friend you could call yours and you’re under his lips. Dean’s crashing his mouth with yours, hungry like an animal after your playful war. You two are soaked, and so is your pussy. He pressed your against the border of the pool, your back to the wall of it. The water rushes in and you couldn’t care less. When did a bikini start to look like too much clothing?

Breaking the kiss, the Winchester glanced at you. The green of all the wild gardens localized in his orbs, dappled with stars and desire. Waiting for his touches, enjoying when he took his time with you was always worthwhile. Today, though, you needed him fast and dirty and raw.

There was nothing you'd rather than spread your legs, so you did it. Dean’s smart fingers quickly ripping your panties and brushing against your heat. He let out an annoyed huff, missing the satisfaction of your wetness around his digitals, how he knew you were a mess for him and him only. The pool’s water didn’t let it much evident, he’d have to fuck you even harder, make sure you were still needy for his cock.

You whined, clinging to his touch with a swing of hips. His hand covering your pussy as Dean applied some pressure, savoring the way your body winced and your eyes shut close, a beautiful moan leaving your lips. He couldn’t wait to eat you out later after he made you come in this stupid pool. Hedonism made his blood thicker-- like he was a calm sea before you, and now his waters were violent and hungry for destruction. 

He pulled his hand away. ‘’Dean…’’

‘’Don’t worry, sweetheart.’’ His throbbing cock entered you, voice even deeper as he spoke. ‘’Gonna give you what you want.’’

You placed your legs around his waist and he held your thighs underwater, the sky spilling out its own water above. It didn’t stop two. Your hand on his shoulders, nails sinking in seemed to be a combustible for Dean to go harder inside of your. His hips attacking yours as his mouth kissed your neck with bites.

‘’Dean, please.’’ You pleaded, warm walls squeezing his long dick. ‘’More.’’

‘’All my cock is for you, honey. You get all of it, fucking you, scratching you open.’’ The eldest Winchester said, his voice so low and sensual. You could come only from his talking. ‘’That’s what you want, huh? You want me to fuck that pretty cunt, mark you up inside this shitty pool.’’ His digital reached your clint and you growled. Dean kept his dick inside you, unable to pull away from the heavenly sensation of being inside you. ‘’Wanna know something? I can’t wait to come inside that tight pussy right here.’’

He increased the rhythm, pounding you even faster and rougher as you tried to keep up, the lack of synchrony causing his cock to reach and pull inimaginable pleasures inside you, all turning more brutal and necessary. The pool had its own waves, your and Dean’s movements causing a chaos ocean chaos in it.

The heat and the sickliest, you were drowning in pleasure with each thrust to a desperate beat that his heart echoed. All your pretty noises tangled with his breathless howls. The rain’s drops becoming one water with the pool as you and him became one with your intertwined bodies, only to grow apart again and come back in need for more.

Your and your lover’s figures distorted on the reflex of the pool water, washing away any piece left of purity as you moved in a hurry when you finally reached your orgasm. Your cunt tightening around his hardness was too much to bear, making Dean come after you.

He rested his forehead against yours, breathless faces with closed eyelids darting together. The heat calmed down by the water. Dean dared to look at you, but not to pull away. His cock remained inside your tight cunt and he caressed your cheek gently. That woman pounded from within and is pinning him down to earth, like you are his own gravity, the glimpse of relief, the lover’s photographe that gives the soldier’s battle a meaning.

‘’There’s a saying in my country.’’ You said suddenly, opening your brown eyes as he lifted his head to greet yours with his forest ones.

Dean captured your small nose, your desirable lips, your big eyes, your gorgeous tan skin, the signals he had map of on his lips. His thumb still stroked your face as his cock took its time to weaken inside your pussy. ‘’Yeah? What’s it?’’

‘’Quem está na chuva é pra se molhar.’’ He arched his eyebrows, a silent request for an english version. The Winchester knew around ten words in your mothertongue. Half pet names, half cussing. You pecked his plump lips. ‘’There's no literal translation, some things just lose their core if you try to put them to another language. It would be like if you are in the rain you want to get wet. It would be another way to say if you can’t take the heat, get out of the kitchen.’’

‘’I gotta say, you look pretty hot when you say those things.’’ You smirked. You rolled your eyes playfully, fingernails tenderly fondling the back of Dean’s neck under his haircut. ‘’Do you miss it?’’

‘’My country?’’

‘’Yeah. Not just your country but your language, your friends, your life there.’’ He shrugged, secretly scared of the answer. ‘’It’s not like we go to the same places you used to go to. I see how many bikinis you carry around.’’

Which was the main reason he booked that motel. You didn’t need to know that. The childish joy you had with the surprise was enough for his credit.

‘’No. Well, I still speak my language when I’m mad at you.’’ Dean chuckled. Whenever you two got in a heated argument, your inner latina would come out and jump at him in both languages at once. It was supposed to be serious, but mostly got him all hot and bothered. Your accent was just too sexy, especially when you were angry. ‘’But no, not really. I miss situations and people, but not how it was. It was a good life, but it wasn’t the one I was supposed to have.’’ You pulled him to you by his neck. ‘’I thank you, you know? For bringing me here. For showing me home, Even for the tears and the fear. I finally I’ve found where I belong.’’

Tranquility engulfed the atmosphere momentarily as comfortable as a silent sleeper, the rain no longer coming, giving stage to a sunny sky. You and Dean, twisted together like that was all serenity you could relish on. You both quiet in the afterglow, his cock no longer hard but neither wanted to pull away. He laid his head on your shoulder, nuzzling into your neck. He certainly would bring you to a beach as soon as he could, maybe pop the pretty question on his knees there. For now, thought, he could enjoy thar simple moment.

‘’After my house was burned to the ground, I didn’t think I’d have another one. I was always rolling around the country, never really stayed in a place for too long. I didn’t want to call some random walls my home and have it destroyed in my face again.’’ Dean said, his thumbs caressing your thighs underwater. Since his first breath near you, he knew he was a goner. Even better, he knew he wasn’t a goner, a nomad, or a lonely wolf anymore. Dean Winchester once swore he would never come back home after what happened in there, and then you appeared. The hot latina who kept up with his stupidity and didn’t think twice before calling him out on his bullshit, and was always there for him and actually loved him-- not besides the job, but with all the things being a hunter included, all the ugly acts he had to go through. You believed he was good and worthy. His house burned, but you gave him a home. For the first time in so long, Dean felt warm and happy and loved. ‘’But you gave me a home. Without the apple pie life and all that. You, me, and Sammy-- fighting the good fight, just the three of us. This is my home.’’

To be a hunter was to be gauge of the deadliest trap ever laid, always carrying the heaviest cross ever made like a soldier’s duty that wouldn’t end with a couple years of trocious war. This treacherous slope was forevermore. A hunter life, all the fraunds and the paid phone calls and the running away with laughs empty of joy, the song from the wrong side of town. But fuck, all the saving and the excitment and the hustled love made a dance for the melody and suddenly it was worth it. All the tender parts, the new restaurants every week, the jokes in the car, the hidden chortles in the dark places. Sam. Dean. Dean and all this am out of love and loyalty he gave to you.

Everything was worth it to be in his arms.

He brought you back home.

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[mlm-writer]

Hero of the Swamp (Shrek x Jaskier)

Edit by me 

Pairing: Shrek x Netflix!Jaskier (Julian Alfred Pankratz/Dandelion) Rating: Explicit Words: 2893 POV: Third Summary: After being left on the mountain, Jaskier finds himself lost in the swamp and in need of warmth and comfort. Note: Y’all can thank @spielzeugkaiser​ and their amazing art for this. Sorry for the sloppy edit, but I really was not going to put even more time into this sinful work.  Tags: I’ve been a bad boy daddy forgive me father fore I have sinned, pre-movies Shrek, post-mountain Jaskier, angst, fluff, Shrek’s huge dong, size kink, cum shower, monster cock, blowjobs, rimming, cum eating and Shrek has emotions ok 

The growls of monsters lurking in the forest rolled over the muddy forest grounds and reached Jaskier’s icy ears. He shivered in both terror and response to the temperature. He told himself he could get off that mountain on his own, but who was he kidding? His frigid ears caught something in the dark. The bard bolted off the path, then later found himself in the middle of nowhere, chilled to the bone, disoriented, and, to be honest, frightened. 

He was looking for a path, but even that seemed to not be present anywhere in the vicinity. Jaskier rubbed his trembling hands together and walked on. Jaskier thought he should at last find some shelter from the wind. Just as he was about to settle for a random tree, he noticed light in the distance, warm like fire, inviting him and promising warmth and shelter. 

The fatigued bard all but ran towards it, the signs around the perimeter unnoticed in the dark. His boots sunk into the mud of the swamp, but he had his eyes set on the house-like structure in the middle of the swamp. He could not believe anyone wanted to live in this stinky place, but right now this someone was about to be his saviour. Once at what he assumed to be the door, he knocked on it. When there was no answer he knocked again. There were some angry, heavy footsteps, before the door opened. 

Before him stood a massive humanoid, skin green like peas, frame built like Geralt who preferred cake over his nasty potions. “Eh, good evening, sir,” Jaskier tried. If it was living in a house, it must be intelligent to some extent… right? “Could you please spare some place for a weary traveller?” The green creature did not look nice, even without its facial expressions. Some tension left its body after the question. Jaskier recognised it as a hint of confusion. “I’m afraid I’ll freeze to death if I don’t warm myself by a fire.” 

“No, get out of my swamp,” the creature spoke. It sounded like it was from Skellige. It was about to retreat into its home, but Jaskier put his foot between the door.

“Please, I’ll die out here,” he spoke dramatically, hoping for pity so he’d have a roof over his head tonight. He was not sure if he should try his luck with this creature, but at least it could speak. Wraiths had said less words, before trying to slice him. 

“Not my problem. Get out of my swamp. The only way you get close to my fire is when I roast you over it.” “Oh please, you don’t mean that.”

Jaskier had barely finished speaking, when the green man grabbed him by his doublet and pulled him close. His breath stank of swamp water and fish. His mouth was wide and Jaskier was pretty sure he would fit inside there. The bard felt like he should be terrified, but underneath a thin layer of leather and cloth, there was warmth radiating off pear skin. He wanted to lean into it, thaw. What inhibited his survival skills further, where those eyes glaring into his. Under bushy eyebrows rested two brown pools of warm broth. He heard the green man roar into his face that he needed to leave, because he was an ogre and he was going to eat him, but it was hard to believe him. 

Within those eyes that were so close to his, the ogre told the story of a creature that wanted to be alone, because alone was safe, alone was comfortable, alone was all he was used to. Jaskier never knew that, but after today, he understood why one would think that. 

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands.”

It stung, more than anything had caused him to ache in ages. Jaskier could feel the urge to never make friends again, never love again, never lust after one he could not have. However, he refused. It was pain that made life worth living. Without pain, bliss did not feel as good as it did. The rain made sunlight so much more appreciated. The cold made fire so much more precious. The monsters made the witcher so much more valuable.

The human knew this, but the ogre holding him up by his doublet did not. Jaskier had wished for pity, but he pitied the other now. He clumsily threw his arms around the ogre and hugged him tightly. The ogre stopped yelling at him. Jaskier could feel the muscles against his body tensing up. The hand holding him loosened and he threw his legs around the ogre too, holding on and hugging him tightly. “You don’t have to be alone. I don’t fear you,” Jaskier spoke gently. 

“I am an ogre.” “And if you were really malicious I would not still be breathing. Please, just for one night. There are all sorts of dangers out in these swamps, especially at night. I just want to stay alive.” 

Jaskier could hear the ogre letting out a long sigh. “Fine,” he spoke, “but you have to be gone tomorrow.” Jaskier let him go, but not after planting a delighted kiss on the rough skin of the ogre’s cheek. 

“Thank you so much,” the bard exclaimed. He slipped inside, before the ogre could change his mind. The inside of the hollowed out tree looked cozy. It stank like hell, but he was in the middle of the swamp; what did he expect? “Do you like music? I have little to give you, but I am a bard.” Jaskier held up his lute as he grabbed the chair that had no food in front of it. One look at the giant slug on a plate and he was pretty sure he did not want to have any food. Jaskier pulled the chair a little closer to the fire and sat down with his lute in his lap. It seemed rather strange that there were two hand-crafted chairs, while the ogre seemed to be so keen on being alone. “Oh and you can call me Jaskier, by the by. What may I call you, my hero from the swamp?”

The ogre looked at him a little annoyed as he closed the door and sat back down to finish his dinner. “Uh… Shrek. You can play, but don’t sing.” Jaskier let the name roll off his tongue, before playing a calming tune. He didn’t speak, just let his fingers do their thing as he processed all that happened during the day, well it was actually more just those few minutes that haunted his mind. Each one of Geralt’s words cutting into his soul. “Eh… Jaskier?” Jaskier was pulled from his thoughts when Shrek spoke his name. He shook his head, before looking at Shrek. “You don't seem to be… you… you seem sad, well, what I mean is… I never heard such a depressing tune.”

Jaskier faked a smile. “My apologies, good sir. I’ll play you a happier tune, if you wish.” He diverted his eyes to the fingerboard, blinking away the tears he suddenly noticed pooling in his eyes. 

“No, you don’t have to. I prefer silence, anyway.” Jaskier looked up and noticed Shrek had finished eating. He stood up and started cleaning up. “You can sleep on my good chair.” Jaskier followed the ogre’s gaze to the fauteuil in the corner. He nodded. It looked comfortable enough. He had slept on forest floors with Geralt. This was more luxury than a regular day with the witcher. 

Shrek had some board and card games, which he seemed to enjoy to play. Jaskier wondered if Shrek usually played these games on his own or if he hosted guests more often. Neither seemed likely, since the games seemed to have gone untouched for at least a decade, if not longer. They shared a few laughs. Shrek turned out to be more fun company than Jaskier would ever have expected from an ogre. His jokes were terrible and sometimes a little insensitive, but he so clearly meant well. It was clear Shrek was not used to talking or any social interactions. He spoke like a young man still trying to figure out what was socially acceptable to say and what was not. Still, he was trying and Jaskier welcomes the vivid chatting. 

When they got tired, Jaskier curled up on the comfortable fauteuil by the fire. Shrek had draped a shirt of his over the human. It stank and was dirty, but it was warm and Jaskier was still low key afraid of getting kicked out to sleep in the mud, so he didn’t voice a single word of complaint. In the silence of the night with no one to talk to, words that were already spoken returned to his mind. Jaskier tried to block them out, but they bit at his brain, keeping him awake and drawing tears from his eyes. He curled further in on himself, trying to stay quiet as he sobbed into his hands. It just hurt so much to be discarded like he was nothing but a nuisance. Was that all he was? He was sure his songs brought joy in taverns, but right now the unlikely and unrealistic idea that everyone just pretended to have a good time was so overwhelming. 

The bard flinched when he felt a huge hand on his shoulder and arm. He looked up to find Shrek hanging over him in nothing but his smalls. He looked like he wanted to say something, but the ogre clearly wasn’t good with words. “I’m fine, Shrek,” Jaskier lied as he wiped the tears off his face, “I’ll just find the nearest town tomorrow and fuck the pain away.” The words had already left him, when he realised how that might sound. “And I’ll do that tomorrow, not because I think you’re hideous, quite the contrary, you might be the most handsome ogre to ever exist, but I just assumed you would not be interested in having sex with a human… male. Human male, doesn’t seem your taste, but it could be, I wouldn’t judge you. How could I? You’ve been a most generous host! I…” 

Jaskier almost suffocated as Shrek’s palm covered the entirety of his face. He got the hint and just shut up. Shrek slowly let go of his face, allowing him to breathe again. Jaskier looked away, cheeks red. He was blabbering nonsense to an ogre who preferred peace and quiet. He guessed it was time to sleep in the mud outside, however, Shrek wasn’t yelling at him… yet. 

“So you just have sex and that helps you feel better?” Jaskier nodded slowly. “I wouldn’t mind helping you feel better. It is not like I have had lassies lining up in the swamp… or lads.” He laughed a little awkwardly, making Jaskier laugh too. He took hold of one of Shrek’s huge fingers with two of his, by comparison, tiny hands. 

“Oh Shrek, you are such a wonderful host. You really do not have to do this though. I will still want to visit you again, even when you don’t want to fuck my brains out, just so I don’t have to think about some brutish asshole.” Shrek gave him a long look, before enclosing his hand around Jaskier’s waist and lifting him off the fauteuil. 

“It’s not just for you. It’s for me too.” And Jaskier wanted to read into those words, figure out the ogre with complicated feelings, but he had no willpower to. Shrek’s bed was firm, almost hard like a plank. It smelled like him, like onions and mud and firewood. Shrek tried to undress him, but his huge fingers couldn’t get a grip on Jaskier’s complex clothing. Jaskier smiled kindly at him, helping him without even needing to look at any button. “Can I kiss you?” Jaskier didn’t even reply. Instead he pulled Shrek’s head down. It was an awkward kiss. Shrek’s mouth was way too big and neither of them were very coordinated in the moment. 

When his clothes were mostly off and Jaskier was left in his smalls, Shrek kissed down his body, his huge tongue lapping at his skin and Jaskier could hear him enjoy the taste. He hummed to signal his pleasure, letting the ogre go about his business. Shrek pulled off his smalls and to Jaskier’s complete surprise, the ogre took his cock in his mouth. Jaskier whimpered, hands grabbing the sheets. Everything about Shrek was big, including his mouth. Even when the ogre sucked him to full hardness, Jaskier still didn’t feel the back of the ogre’s throat. Shrek sucked in his balls at well and Jaskier almost cried from the pleasure of having his cock and balls inside a warm mouth.  

When Shrek let Jaskier go, his length was hard, red and leaking. Jaskier barely had time to recover, before he felt that glorious tongue on him again, this time licking over his hole. Whispered pleas left his lips as he imagined that tongue inside of him. Then a thought crossed his mind. If everything about Shrek was big, what about his dick? Jaskier had seen the ogre’s hands and one finger was already bigger than the average cock. While he normally was down to go big, the imaginable size of Shrek’s dong low key terrified him.

His mind had no opportunity to freak him out completely, because Shrek’s tongue entered him and the feeling was so, so good. Jaskier moaned as big green hands spread his cheeks and thick wetness penetrated him. “Ah… ah Shrek I hate to be a uh… fuck!” The bard trashed his arms around when his new found friend started to stroke his cock at the same time. “I’m gonna cum! Way too soon, I know! Sto..aahh...” His whole body tensed as he spilled all over himself. Shrek was unrelenting. As the bard’s cock was spent, he still had his tongue inside him, pressing at the right places and wiggling around so talentedly. “Stop, stop, stop, it’s too much, really, too much.” 

Jaskier was out of breath, head fuzzy with post-orgasmic bliss. His whole brain short-circuited as Shrek’s tongue licked over his torso, cleaning him off all the cum he had spilled over himself. “Are you all right?” The green-skinned sex machine inquired with innocent eyes that did not match the absolute tent in his smalls. 

“Say, Shrek, will I die if I swallow ogre cum?” Jaskier almost laughed at Shrek’s expression. It was a ‘yes, no, maybe’. “Ok fine, but I will suck you off still.” The human pushed at the ogre, cornering the larger frame against the opposite wall, before getting on his knees. 

“With all due respect, Jask, I don’t think you can fit me anywhere.” Jaskier didn’t listen, pulling down Sherk’s white smalls in spite of knowing the ogre was probably right. As soon as 12 inch of green cock basically slapped him in the face, Jaskier knew he was in way over his head. Still, he was confident that if he tried, he could still fit the head inside his mouth. With Shrek still assuring him he did not have to do this, Jaskier started licking all over Shrek’s length. The taste was not as bad as he feared. In fact, the more he licked, the more he started to like it. Jaskier made out with the head of Shrek’s cock, fucking the slit with his tongue. Shrek was holding his shoulder, occasionally squeezing a little as he moaned. And oh were those delicious moans, primal, guttural, deep and vibrating through Jaskier’s entire body. 

The human tried many times, but he couldn’t slip the monster cock inside his mouth. He was resilient though and kept trying, while stroking the rest of the green length. He was so caught up in his quest that he didn’t hear Shrek telling him how close he was. He made a disappointed sound as he was forcibly removed from the cock in his mouth. Jaskier crawled back up the bed and stretched out his body. “Cum on me,” he wantonly moaned and Shrek did not disappoint. Jaskier had to close his eyes and mouth as he got showered in thick, beige cum. He never had felt this dirty, but it was a good kind. He wished he could have taken Shrek in his ass. He could’ve been so full. 

Once Shrek had stopped groaning, Jaskier dared to open his eyes. He could see guilt already spreading over Shrek’s face. He must have been a sight, so much smaller than Shrek and absolutely drenched in his cum. “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve always fantasised about being showered in cum. Just never thought that all that cum would come from a single person.” 

Shrek let out a relieved sigh and helped him wipe some cum off his face so it wouldn’t get into his mouth or eyes. “I’ll prepare you a bath,” he spoke gently, surprising Jaskier with the thoughtfulness. His eyes followed the ogre as he put his breeches on and moved out to probably get some fresh water. A laugh escaped Jaskier as he stared at the sticky substance covering his skin. Who would’ve thought that the swamp could’ve been so pleasant?