#how to make frizzy hair smooth

[transmalewife]

so many posts appreciating rose tyler for how down to earth, unapologetically working class she looks and they are all right but also it's incredible how that continues as bad wolf. for a moment she's the most powerful being in the show. and it would be so easy to make her strange and smooth and elflike but this is 2005 and so she's crying. the strongest being in the universe is a teenage girl in sweatpants crying and sweating, hair frizzy, her voice breaking as she speaks. incomprehensibly powerful, larger than life and still so very human

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovely Mae, I hope you're doing well! Could you please write a drabble with poly!jily where they deal with reader who has a social anxiety and after a busy day or a social event or something she's sick of making small talk and just wants to cuddle up with her partners? No worries if not! Love you mwah <3

Thanks for requesting angel! Hope you're doing well too <3

cw: social anxiety/burnout

poly!Jily x fem!reader ♡ 626 words

You come home feeling raw, worn down to nothing. You want to go into a dark, quiet room and never emerge. But there are two people you need to see first. 

“Angel!” James cheers as you come in and take your shoes off. “How was dinner?” 

He’s sitting with Lily on the couch. She looks happy to see you, but when you wordlessly hold your arms out and walk towards them her expression bends with sympathy. 

“Oh.” James extends his arms for you, folding you into a hug. “Not very good, then?” 

“No,” you mumble into his jumper, “I think it went okay. It was just a lot.” 

Lily makes a soft sound of understanding. They both know you were half dreading your plans tonight, a good friend’s birthday dinner where unfortunately she was the only person you’d know there. You spent the whole time sipping your water to avoid talking and trying not to seem awkward when you couldn’t avoid it. 

Lily’s fingers slip underneath your scarf, cool against your neck as she tugs it off gently. “Was everyone nice?” she asks. 

“Yeah. I’m just afraid I embarrassed myself.” Self-conscious tears prickle at the back of your throat. “I can’t think about it anymore, honestly.” 

“That’s okay,” she says. “I’m sure you didn’t embarrass yourself, lovely. Can I see your hand? You’re going to be sweltering in a minute here.” 

You pass her one hand and then the other, allowing her to pull your gloves off for you. 

“I’m sure everyone there loved you,” says James, rubbing your back while Lily pulls your hat from your head. Her nails scratch lightly at your scalp as she combs her fingers through your roots, smoothing out the frizzies it left behind. “Know how I know?” 

Between both of their touches, you’re starting to relax. “How?” 

“Because,” James whispers like it’s a secret, “Lily loves you. That means everyone must. She’s very picky.” 

“What?” your girlfriend exclaims while you laugh into James’ jumper. “I am not.” 

“It took me years, angel,” James tells you. “Years. But she snatched you up in under a fortnight. Given that, I really don’t see how anyone else could possibly resist you.” 

“I am not that picky.” 

“Oh,” says James, “so what you’re saying is, you’d drop either one of us for someone new in ten seconds flat?” 

You turn your head to peek, and Lily’s narrowed her eyes at him. “Careful,” you murmur. “She might do it to prove a point.” 

She lets out a short, appalled laugh. “You two are so awful!”

“Awful enough to be rid of?” James asks, but when she makes to walk away he leans forward and tugs her back onto the couch with you. 

Lily looks happy to be tugged. She lands in a heap next to James, her glare playful as she meets your eyes. “I hope all these jokes at my expense are making you feel better.” 

You know she’s teasing, but you go soft nonetheless, reaching for her hand and intertwining your fingers. “I’m sorry,” you say, earnest. “Love you.” 

Lily melts, and James gives your middle an affectionate squeeze. “I love you too, sweetheart,” she says. “Do you want to talk about dinner?” 

You let your head lay upon James’ shoulder, looking at her sideways. “Not really. I’m too tired.” 

James starts rubbing your back again, fondness emanating from his touch like a pleasant ache. “Is there anything we can do, then?” 

You hum. “This?” 

Lily’s lips tilt in a bemused sort of smile. “Just this?” 

“Yeah,” you sigh. You melt against James’ front, your fingers in Lily’s grasp. “This is nice.” 

A warm chuckle rumbles through James’ chest. He presses a kiss to your hair. “I think we can manage that.” 

[zepskies]

Restless Nights

Pairing:��Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: After a tryst you instigated in the backseat of his Baby, you and Dean have started something new. He’s just not sure that you’re as “all in” as you claimed to be.

AN: As promised, here's a bonus one-shot to follow Maybe More Than Enough, though it can be read as a stand-alone. This is based on a request from @lacilou, one of my lovely Patreon members!

Bonus! It fulfills the @spnfanficpond monthly prompt. (Can’t give it away until the end though!)

Request: A Dean story based on the song “I Remember You” by Skid Row.

Word Count: 1.2K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, fluff, implied mentions of sex, bit of a twist ending… 

Dean woke to the sound of pouring rain hitting the roof of the bunker.

It must’ve been some torrential downpour, because it took a lot for him to hear anything of the outside world from inside this place. Good thing the old heaters kept out the January cold, too. Nothing worse than frigid rain.

Blearily he cracked his eyes open, unearthed an arm from where it was tucked under his pillow, and carefully raised his phone to check the time, trying not to let the light from the screen burn his retinas in the still dark room.

4:00 a.m.

He groaned. Goddamn it.

He turned over onto his other side to face where you should’ve been lying next to him. He frowned when he saw nothing but the sheets pulled back and a dented, empty pillow.

No matter how he fought it down, a small tinge of worry, and the beginnings of disappointment churned in his gut. His brows furrowed.

Did you regret it already?

After his first make out session with you (turned more session) in the backseat of his Baby, you two struck a tentative agreement to figure what this could be—more than hunting partners, allies, and friends. Despite the fact that you kissed him first (a fact he didn’t easily let you forget), afterwards, you’d been a little hesitant about what came next.

“We take it day by day,” he’d told you, with a sizzling kiss that stole your breath. “All I know is…this feels good.”

It felt right. You had definitely agreed with that.

Dean sighed through his nose, turning back onto his other side. It wasn’t unusual for him to be a light (restless) sleeper, but the handful of times you’d joined him in his bed had been beginning to make his nights calmer. He was actually starting to sleep through until morning.

What’s more, after years of looking into your eyes and seeing all the possibilities of what if, he was finally getting to make those images solid, and real. He could touch them, taste them, feel them under his calloused hands. He finally had you for real.

He looked past your empty spot in his bed and didn’t see your phone, or any of your rings on the nightstand. They were the first things you put on in the morning, and the last things you took off at night.

If those were gone…

His disappointment was settling high in his chest now; an ache approaching pain.

Until he heard the light sound of bare feet padding back toward the bed. Your hand slid gently up his arm, and after the surprise wore off, the corners of his lips tugged upwards. Your hair was a bit wild and frizzy. It tickled his neck and shoulder when you leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“What’s this?” you whispered, swiping two fingers between the crunch in his brows. Dean relaxed with a small smile.

“Nothin’,” he claimed. His voice was deep and rough with sleep. “Had an appointment to get to or something?”

You smiled and settled into bed, embracing him from behind. He turned onto his back and welcomed you over, with an arm curling around your waist. He rested his hand on yours when it smoothed across his chest.

Subtly glancing down, he didn’t find any of the silver you wore on the daily, including the ring with a small turquoise stone he’d bought you a couple weeks ago, on a hunt in Denver. That one, you now almost never took off.

“I put them away in a drawer,” you said, wiggling your fingers under his hand. Your hand felt dry, and a little like you'd been handling something dusty. Had you been up reading in the library again, lost track of time? “When I woke up, I saw one fell off the nightstand. Have a feeling it had something to do with the bedframe knocking against it.”

At that, Dean couldn’t contain his lazy smirk.

“My bad,” he said, sounding anything but sorry.

You laughed, shaking your head. You still laid a kiss below his shoulder before you settled back down. He gave your waist a gentle squeeze, pressing a kiss of his own to your forehead. A deep breath fell from between his lips, and his eyes closed.

A question was on the tip of his tongue. Where you were, why you got up. Was it something he could help with? Or was it one of those moments you needed to have alone, not unlike the times you gave him to settle with his thoughts, after a hunt gone sideways. If it was important, you’d level with him, wouldn’t you?

So he let it be.

In the morning, you somehow once again managed to get out of bed without him feeling it. He didn’t hear you either. Curiosity led him down the hall and glancing inside the cracked door of Sam’s room. It was empty, his running shoes gone from the side of his bed. Dean rolled his eyes.

All right, Lance.

Oh, wait, that was biking. …Whatever.

Dean’s next path inevitably took him down to the kitchen. His stomach was already percolating—in need of good coffee and (hopefully) good food.

The smell wafting from the kitchen surprised him, however. Cinnamon apples?

He turned the corner, and there he found you.

The fuck?

You looked a bit of a mess. Your hair was thrown up into a haphazard bun, and you’d stolen his apron. Though in his eyes, you made it look better, the white fabric hugging around your curves like you were Rachel Ray or something. You were frazzled when he came downstairs, but happy to see him. You beckoned him over and sat him down at the small kitchen table.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on here?” he asked, eying you curiously.

“Just stay there!” you called from the kitchen. He heard you opening the oven, cursing when you nearly dropped something.

What the hell were you doing baking before 9:00 a.m.?

He turned to ask you what was going on (and if you needed help), but before the words could come out of his mouth, you came over and carefully set down the pie in front of him. The rich aroma, the golden flaky crust, the flecks of cinnamon and glossy apples peeking out from the divots in said crust—it all had Dean’s mouth watering, and his shocked gaze fixed on the shiny pastry.

He startled a little when he felt your hands on his shoulders, sliding part of the way down his arms. You kissed the side of his head.

“Thought I wouldn’t remember, did you?” you teased. “Happy Birthday, baby.”

Dean’s throat constricted. He tried not to show it, but your gaze gentled when he finally met yours, like you were seeing through all his layers anyway. He realized then what you were probably working on last night, and he really couldn’t fucking believe it.

He’d forgotten his own birthday. Couldn’t see much use in celebrating, when year after crappy year…

But he closed a hand over yours on his shoulder, and he brought your hand to his lips.

Every word he couldn’t yet say to you was etched in that single gesture.

AN: Short and angsty sweet! lol And the monthly prompt was "pie!" 🥧 For Dean of course. 😂

Hope you guys enjoy this one! 💜

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[sincerelybubbles]

i just think that james would make the best boyfriend. and i know it's not a new thought or even an uncommon one, everyone knows james loves fast and he loves deep, but i cannot help but imagine how healthy your relationship would be with him.

like, yes, when he picks you he's fiercely protective and obsessed with you beyond belief. he's always touching you, skin to skin, pouting when you're holding his hand because you're wearing gloves and he wants to feel you ("I'll put your hand in my pocket," he whines when you explain that your hand is just cold. you give him a fake glare but three minutes later, tops, you're holding his hand, no gloves, in his hoodie pocket and he's walking around with the biggest grin on his face, all white teeth on display). he compliments you every time you turn a corner for everything you do, he drops anything and everything for you the second you even breathe like you might need something. his professions of love are as breathtaking as they are frequent ("i just love the way you exist," he whispers in the morning, smoothing your hair out of your face, "i mean, it's 7 in the morning and usually i'm struggling to open my eyes but your hair is frizzy and i know where all of your freckles are and i can't wait to count them, you know?").

but i think beyond that, there's a sort of solidness that comes from healing together. from finding the flaws in your relationships, testing them until the cracks widen enough for you two to patch together, and relishing in the firmness of what used to be weak. james overwork himself. he used to spend restless hours finishing work at home, dejectedly pushing you off in fear of letting down his coworkers. working at the gym until his muscles screamed, unable to even lift his fork for dinner without his pecs screaming at him. planning dates and activities on your days off together to the point where you felt like you couldn't breathe. everything done with the lacing of care, tinged with the effort he put into every moment of life. it felt wrong for you to comment on at first. he tries so hard all of the time to do everything for everyone -- be everything for everyone, even himself. good things, at their core, that you didn't want to rub the shine out of by getting your fingerprints on. but you watched him fracture and put him back together when the effort became too much and crumpled his facade. you taught him self-restraint, reminded him to allow you to take some of the burden, showed him the simple pleasure of taking up space together without thinking of how every moment could be maximized. in turn, he helped you with sleep. self-confidence. how to talk through hurt feelings instead of lashing out.

james wouldn't let comments turn into fights. ("what do you mean when you say that?" he asks instead, sitting beside you and ducking his head to meet your eye, be at your level. his fingertips rest on your forearm, skin-to-skin like always. eyes open, alert, lips pressed together to tell you he's confused, doesn't agree, but posture telling you he's willing to listen more than he's willing to escalate). and when fights happen, of course they happen, you've taught him it's okay to walk away. it's not defeat. neither of you leave the flat, only to separate rooms, but it usually only takes 20 minutes before you're reaching out again, missing his warm fingers settling on the soft place behind your ear as he messes with your hair while you talk, and you're whispering your way through the problem. untangling to the root like it's a tangled group of threads, working through it together,

so, yeah, i can't stop thinking about how james would be such a good boyfriend. for the obvious reasons, always, but for the ones deeper from the surface. for the reasons that would cause issues first and how ready he would be to dive in and make the faults strengths of their own as well.

not edited, not proof read, i'm so sorry it's 1am and i can't stop thinking about him

[igotanidea]

A biker and a bicycler

requested by @blooming4u : reader x Jason meeting for the first time.

AKA; what happens when it rains and someone causes a little water fountain out of the puddle.

***

“HEY! WATCH WHERE YOU GOING!!”

The sudden screeching of the motorcycle wheels on the asphalt quickly made her realize that yelling at this driver might have been a bad idea.

The driver getting off the bike and striding towards her without taking off his helmet only fueled that suspicion further.

Him standing way too close, as if waiting for her to apologize made her ….

Even angrier.

The hell was he thinking?!

Speeding on the street in the rain, not giving a shit about the cyclists?! Hello?!

Not taking a second to get his head out of his ass to maybe consider that there were puddles everywhere and fucking driving too close can fucking cause someone to get all wet?!

Oh hell no, she was not backing down from this!

“You were saying something, princess?” a muffled voice, came from behind the motorcycle helmet

“Damn right I was!” she exclaimed, pointing at her drenched jeans and bicycle. “See what you did?!”

“You sure that was me?” the guy chuckled, but due to that stupid thing on his stupid head it sounded more like Lord Vader joking around. “There are plenty other people who could have done it? How do I know you are not trying to trick me into taking responsibility?”

“Huh? What—” that little speech surely took her aback. A little though, since she quickly recovered. “Are you a lawyer now?”

“Far from it, believe me! But still, I’m going to need proof to that, princess. Otherwise, I might think you are doing shit like this on purpose, cause I caught your attention. You know, if you want to ask me out, you can just ask without all those charades.” His face was still hidden, but Y/N could swear he was smirking.

“Excuse me?!”

“Oh, I guessed right? Didn’t I?”

“Ok, let’s assume for a second that you are. That I am doing it to catch the attention of random guy-”

“Hey, no judgment, there are worse deviations.” He cut her off, raising hands up in mock surrender.

“Oh yeah, right. I am that desperate” Y/N rolled her eyes in response “but clearly you got some serious issues yourself. If we do go out, are you going to stay in that helmet? Ugly much?”

“Oh, sunshine—”

“Do not call me sunshine, idiot.”

“Feisty much?” he retorted

“You ruined my jeans.” She deadpanned.

“Poor girlie.” He mocked “who rides a bike in a rain either way?”

“I’m sorry I can’t see you having a sliding roof over your bike.”

“I got a helmet though. And you don’t. Feisty and reckless.”

“Yeah, true. You got a helmet, wonder why you’re hiding under it? Kinda rude to talk to a girl like that.”

“Well if you put it that way.”

“The hell does that mean--?”

Before she could scoff further or even finish the question he took off the helmet, revealing his face. And well, um, he didn’t look ugly at all.

Quite the opposite, actually, not that she was going to admit it out loud.

The guy, whose name she still didn’t know tried to smooth out frizzy hair, but ended up only ruffling them more.

“Do you need a mirror?” she mocked, raising her eyebrows.

“Nah, not really, the admiration in your eyes is enough for me” he grinned.

“You know I’m starting to hate you.”

“Oh no! You cannot hate me before you know my name!” despite herself Y/N couldn’t hold back an  amused snort at his joke and grin. “I’m Jason.”

“Y/N.”

“So Y/N. Since apparently I ruined your jeans how about I take you for a coffee to make it up?”

“Really? A second ago you were-“

“Yeah, yeah, traumatic past, let’s not get back to it. Seriously, my treat.”

“Um… why?” it wasn’t like she was just going to go out with a stranger. Not that type of girl even if the guy was handsome. Blame the bad teenage rom-coms that made her see herself as the object of mockery, rather then possible love interest.

“Why not?” he shrugged “seriously, what do you have to lose?”

“Sanity and a sense of humor in your presence?”

“Ouch! Rough! I’m hurt!”

“And I;m not sorry.”

“Okay then, now you got a reason to grab a coffee with me.”

“And what may that be?”

“Remorse?”

“Who’s desperate now?” she smirked, shaking head and following him to a café. If nothing more, she was at least going to wait the rain in a warm place. And if the company turned out bad? Well – she would get a reason to put her sarcasm and irony to the test, cause something was telling her, that this Jason guy would be a worthy opponent on the matter.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Ace having a different hairstyles in his latest card is so cool. Given we seen Jamil with untied hair, it makes me think of most of the cast having their hairstyles change. Like I can imagine Vil without braided hair, Rook's messy hair similar to his Savanaclaw style, Leona's lazy hair, Sebek's same hairstyle as his Briar Valley guard card, and so on. The only ones I can't imagine are Kalim and Ortho since Kalim literally has the most shortest hair and Ortho is well...him. I wonder what Ortho looks like in his sleep wear card, man it will take a year find out. I also thought of Silver since he is usually sleeps alot and has his hair style well the same.

Yup, it looks like (based on Jamil and Ace) every character will get two new looks with the Relaxing in Room cards: messy/bedhead and with a headband.

I feel like this gives us a lot of possibilities!!

VIL BUT HE LOOKS LIKE AN EXTRATERRESTRIAL BECAUSE HE’S IN A FLUFFY BATHROBE AND HEADBAND, GOT ON A FACE MASK, AND HAS CUCUMBER SLICES ON HIS EYES… Terrifying to anyone walking into his room without context www

I think Rook’s hair would depend on just how “permanent” the straightening and smoothing out process is. It would be fun to see it frizzy and natural again, but I think he’s probably got his new grooming routine down pat now, meaning no split ends and such. I’m really interested in seeing how he maintains his new looks though, what kinds of tips and tricks he has picked up from Vil, etc.

cbjsbsjegsksk All I’m picturing for Leona is him making RUGGIE do his braids for him every morning 😭 Leona technically has the dexterity and skill to do it himself (whether by hand or by magic), but I don’t know if he’d always have the drive to do his hair like that every day considering how laid-back his usual style of dress is… (and we all know he already makes Ruggie handle his laundry OTL)

I will happily take any excuse to see Sebek without his hair gelled back 🥺 He looks so cute with his hair down, much more innocent and puppy-like… We need to see more of it!!

For the short hair boys like Kalim and Trey, they’ll probably try to make their usual styles a little messier? Ruffle it up a little or something, just enough to be visually noticeable.

As for Ortho, hmm 🤔 His designs have always been the most unique simply due to the nature of him being an android… and his hair is artificial anyway, so technically it has more range than actual hair. Maybe we’ll actually get to see it take on a new shape? Get on that upgrade, Idia! Or maybe Ortho now has the autonomy to figure it out for himself?

[pretty-little-mind33]

Dave Lizewski x fem!reader

Summary: Being partners with Kick-Ass is far more intimidating when you have a huge crush on him, especially when he won't stop talking about his crush.

Prompt: hurt and comfort - "I'm so sick of pretending like everything is okay."

here you go, my darling @lavieenvalentina! ily! seeing you in my notifs always makes me so happy!

DAVE LIZEWSKI MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

The night is humid and hot and nothing seems to be going your way. 

First, your costume had shrunk in the laundry making the middle feel three sizes too small. Second, it had been drizzling outside and now your hair is frizzy, and third—your partner, Kick-Ass, has been going on and on about this girl Katie from his high school. 

You know Katie. You've deduced you go to the same school. She's all sugary sweet on the outside, but she's been casually teasing you since middle school, which is something you can't exactly tell him considering your identity must remain a secret. 

It doesn't help that you don't know who Kick-Ass is either. Hell, he could be one of the stupid popular jocks for all you know and then you'd so feel silly.

"And her hair is so silky and smooth, I wonder how she—" Kick-Ass continues as you walk, grinning like an idiot. You don't know how much longer you can take this agony, but you try and listen to him anyway.

"You okay?" he asks after more rambling because he can now sense you aren't listening. 

You pause, stopping at a crossroads and then you turn to him. "I should go home, there isn't any crime happening," you say, needing some time alone and away from him. 

"Did I say something wrong?" he asks, his voice low and hoarse. It's the tone that makes your cheeks feel warm and your heart flutters uncontrollably. Behind his mask, his bright blue eyes shine and he's looking at you like some poor puppy who can't understand why his owner won't give him a bone. 

"Don't look at me like that," you say, taking his arm and pulling him into a small alley. 

"Like what?" he sounds genuinely confused as he leans against the brick wall. 

"Like a damn wounded puppy!" you exclaim, throwing up your arms in exasperation, "As if I've kicked you or something stupid. Why do you always have to act like the one who's hurt when all you do is hurt me?!"

The words tumble from your lips.

"I hurt you?" he whispers, his concerned expression obvious even with almost his entire face covered. "How? I thought we were friends. You're the best damn friend I've ever had."

"You don't know me," you interrupt him and fiddle with the latex of your glove, "not really." 

"Well, I could know you," Kick-Ass says, sounding very determined. "You're the one who doesn't want to know me. I've told you a thousand times you can trust me. I've even told you my name."

Your eyes widen at this revelation. "What? When?"

"The first week we met, you never told me yours but whatever," he shakes his head and then outstretches his hand, "Here, I don't mind. I trust you. My name is Dave," he says casually.

You suddenly click all the pieces in your head and your smile drops.

"Dave Lizewski?" you whisper, suddenly recognizing his voice. Of course, how could you not have recognized him? You sit next to Dave in Pre-Calculus every single day. Dave hangs around with Katie all the time. You look him up and down.

His eyebrows crease. "How did you know that?" he asks suspiciously.

You think, screw this, and untie your mask from behind your head, letting it drop into your hands. You look up, almost afraid of his reaction.

Dave's eyes widen and he stutters out your name, the syllables stuck in his throat as he processes that it's you.

He didn't consider you a friend at school, but you always helped him in Pre-Calculus when you could so he liked you. Plus, you're gorgeous and he can't deny that before Katie Deauxma, he'd thought of you in inappropriate ways—sometimes he still does.

His cheeks burn bright red. 

"It's you," is all he can muster.

You shrug and look away from him. "This is so stupid," you say and then turn to him again, "We're so stupid for not knowing. I mean, we talk all the time."

Dave pulls off his mask. Luckily no one is walking around this dinghy alley to see you both. Your breath catches in your throat at seeing Dave, his hair messy and stuck to his skin, his glasses abandoned and dressed in his Kick-Ass suit. 

You start to laugh. You aren't laughing at him but at this absurd situation. 

Dave doesn't take it like that and he scrunches up his nose. "Are you laughing at me?"

You shake your head and look at him seriously. "No, I'm laughing because if I had known waking up today that the boy I have a crush on was none other than Dave Lizewski from Pre-Calculus—I think I would have pinched myself."

Your words sink and Dave's eyes widen until he looks almost scared. "What?"

"You know Katie thinks you're gay. That's the only reason she's your friend," you interrupt. You feel the need to tell him, like jealousy and pure venom is slipping from your mouth. Is it mean? A little, but you think it's time someone should burst his bubble.

Dave frowns, your previous statement slipping his mind momentarily. "I know that," he tells you, defensive. 

"Then why on earth do you have to go on and on about her all the time?"

"Sorry, I didn't realize I was inconveniencing you, Y/n," he snaps without hesitation, crossing his arms.

"Well, you are," you snap back, glaring at him and looking at him like this, knowing who he is, makes this a thousand times harder.

If Kick-Ass did turn out to be a stupid, meat-head, jock then this would be so much easier. Only he isn't. He's Dave Lizewski  and Dave is sweet and he's funny and he's brave and—

"I'm so sick of pretending like everything is okay," you blurt out and bury your face in your hands. 

Dave is quiet for a moment until he walks closer and pulls your hands down so he can look at you. "Okay, listen, can we please rewind for a second?" he asks, "y-you said you have a crush on me."

You shake your head and warmth spreads across your cheeks. 

"You did," Dave insists. 

"Doesn't matter, it's stupid."

"It does matter," he says and his hands cup your cheeks, hair falling and tickling his wrists as his mask hangs from his hand. "It matters because you're lovely and kind and I really like you." 

"Not the way I like you," you counter, "you like Katie Deauxma." 

Dave winces and he can't argue. His feelings don't just magically disappear, although he can admit that for some reason—after seeing you in this light—something inside him shifted. Something he can't explain right now.

"Y/n, you don't know me either," he tells you honestly, "you may know Kick-Ass a little, and you may like him, but you don't like Dave."

Not yet, you want to finish but you don't. You keep your mouth shut. He has a point.

"Just don't talk about her anymore, will you?"

Dave smiles a little, nodding his head. "Okay. Promise," he looks into your eyes, his gaze flickering to your lips. 

He has a really strong feeling he won't need to talk about Katie anymore. 

tags: @earth-elemental18

[sxfterhearts]

full of you(r love)

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ softdom!jiung x little girl!reader ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: smut (18+ mdni nsfw), unprotected sex, dd/lg themes, mention of safeword (but not used), emotional sex (is this a warning?), porn with a lot of plot

♡ word count: 3,550 words

♡ author's note: i'm scared cos this fic i've been working on for the past month is going out into the world.. pls be kind im a fluff writer with no smut experience but choi jiung made me write this?!???! dedicating this fic to all my lovely tumblr moots and anons who encouraged me throughout this process, and especially @348kg (this fic wouldnt exist without u) and @kisseobie (ur my inspiration rosa) <333 fr smut writers yall are elite u have my respect omfg

//

“Yeah? Are you sure, eomma? I think it’s looking a little too red… Oh wait,” Jiung paused mid-sentence, lips lifting automatically into a smile as he heard the familiar chime of the keypad  code being punched into the door. You were home, finally. “Y/N’s home. Yeah, mhmm… Okay, I’ll tell her that. Yup, okay… Yeah, one spoon, got it. Thank you so much! Mhmm, I’m hanging up. Okay, love you too, bye!”

He turned around, placing his red phone in the pocket of his apron, a gift you got him when he declared he wanted to learn how to cook better meals. Jiung turned the fire down to a low simmer, but not before inhaling the fragrant aroma of his own home cooking. Smiling proudly, he wiped his hands on the apron and made his way towards the entrance of your shared apartment. “Y/N! You’re back.”

The smile was promptly wiped off his face when he saw your dishevelled figure at the doorway, struggling to peel your goddamned heels off your sore feet. The hair that you usually wore up in a ponytail was hanging towards the floor in a frizzy black mop. You bore such a close resemblance to the female ghosts in those old-school horror movies that Jiung nearly jumped in fright. 

“Hey, let me.” He called out softly, crouching down to undo the straps of your heels and peel your bag off your tired shoulders, before carefully placing the shoes back on the shelves. 

“Jiung…” You mumbled, voice small and tired. You huffed out a deep sigh. “I had the worst day ever, I’m not even joking.”

Jiung looked at you and took you in, like really took in your entire being, and realised that he had not seen you in such a state for a while. “Yeah?” He smiled sympathetically, arms coming to wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him and guiding your heavy head to rest against his broad shoulders. His palm cradled the back of your head, smoothing down your hair and pressing his lips against your temples in greeting. 

“Yeah, my stupid manager doesn’t understand that I can’t deliver the same results because we are literally one man down. What am I supposed to do when the other manager is on leave for a whole month? Why doesn’t he understand that I can’t train my staff and lead the project at the same time? It’s so frustrating. And whenever I try to voice out my concerns, it’s like he’s deaf or something, I swear…” You grumbled angrily.

“Hmm,” Jiung hummed, listening intently. “It does sound like a really tough day, baby. But you know what will make it better?”

“Hmm?”

“I made you dinner.”

As if on cue, Jiung felt, rather than heard, your stomach grumble, signalling your hunger. His brows scrunched up as he asked, yet fearing the answer altogether, “When was the last time you ate, Y/N?”

You went silent. 

Jiung sighed, shaking his head. “C’mon, silly girl. I made your favourite. It’s my mum’s recipe too. Just sit and I’ll get it ready for you.”

It was your turn to shake your head this time. “No, your baby wants hugs.” You insisted childishly, your cool, strict manager facade from work disappearing the moment you were in the presence of your boyfriend of four years. You pouted and hugged him tighter, absolutely refusing to budge.

Jiung laughed, finding your current state endearing. He knew it was because you were so tired and worn out, and decided to make the most of the opportunity. “Fine, it’s up to you. You are my baby, after all…”

As the night wore on, you refused to leave his side for even a moment, sticking to Jiung like a koala clung to a tree. You insisted on hugging him from behind as he scooped the kimchi jjigae into two separate bowls, topping them with spring onions and a teaspoon of sesame oil each and serving them up with bowls of steaming, multigrain rice. You held on tight as you sat on his lap at the dining table, limbs intertwining with his as you begged him to feed you instead, feeling ‘too tired’ all of a sudden to even lift a spoon because of the rough work day. You even grasped the hem of his white, paper thin t-shirt desperately when he so much as got up to grab more side dishes from the fridge, insisting that he let you stay like this for longer because you missed him way too much.

“Baby…” Jiung cooed, repositioning his big hands on your hips, reaching under your tight work blouse to caress your soft skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake. “What is it? I know you’ve had a hard time today, but you’re very clingy.” He lightly teased, eyes downcast as he looked at you with feigned suspicion. In reality, after being together for so long, it wasn’t hard for Jiung to know your true intentions.

You refused to meet his eyes, pretending to pay him no mind as you chewed on the last mouthful of rice, all while twirling the strings of his apron around your fingers. 

“Babe…”

“Hmm?”

“Are you going to be a good girl and use your words? Hmm?” He prompted, voice turning slightly harder.

When you failed to respond, Jiung used his long, slim fingers to tilt your chin towards him and hold it there. “Words, baby. I need you to say something, okay?”

Your desperate, pleading eyes met his unwavering gaze, and you felt your body shiver at the intensity behind it. “Yeah…” You whispered, suddenly feeling small.

“What do you need… Can you tell me?” Jiung pressed on, yet his eyes caught sight of a stray piece of rice lingering on the corner of your lips. He moved his thumb towards the rice and both of you followed his movement. As though in slow motion, your tongue darted out to lick his finger – shy, like a kitten. When you noticed that he didn’t respond, and just tracked your next move with the eyes of a hawk, you daringly relaxed your jaw and sucked it into your wet, warm mouth.

Jiung felt his cock stir under two layers of clothing and your plush ass.

You saw how his pupils blew out. Feeling satisfied with the effect you had on him, you released his thumb with a loud pop. “Jiung, can you take care of me tonight, please?” You asked shyly, batting your eyelashes. The stark contrast between the lewd request and your bashful tone made your boyfriend’s head spin.

Behind closed doors, you were completely comfortable with Jiung taking full control and treating you like his baby girl. Tonight was no different. It wasn’t often that you got the opportunity to take things all the way. In fact, you struggled to even remember when was the last time Jiung even called you his baby. Especially not since you started on this project, which has been the cause of all your grievances in the past three months.

But tonight, you were determined to break the drought. Something within you snapped this afternoon when your boss made a big show of throwing your report in the trash whilst yelling colourful profanities in front of the entire team. It was the last straw after a series of small, seemingly insignificant inconveniences that eventually snowballed. You felt like a pressure cooker, finally exploding at your incompetent boss.

The entire torment drained you so much that truthfully, you really didn’t want to do anything for yourself anymore. Sure, you could feed yourself, and sure, you could sit upright on your own, but you really appreciated that since stepping foot into the apartment, Jiung had taken care of everything – from removing your shoes, to making sure you were fed and comfortable. You didn’t even need to think; you just trusted and knew that he would shut your brain down and handle everything for you.

Being someone who was naturally independent and strong-headed in the workplace, you knew that anyone who found out you acted like this with your boyfriend would hang their jaws in utter disbelief. Yet here you were, being carried to the sofa by Jiung as you nibbled on his neck in fervour.

“You sure you want this tonight, baby?” Jiung sat you down and kneeled at eye-level in front of you to ask, all serious and concerned. But his mind was slowly getting clouded as your teeth sunk into a soft spot close to his earlobes, sucking greedily. “There’s no turning back for you if you say yes, and…” He paused to take a breath, letting his responsibility over you rise up to the surface. “I will take care of you as always, but you’re in quite a state now, and I don’t want to risk you having a bad time.”

Jiung felt you nod wordlessly in response, but it wasn’t enough for him. The soft dom inside of him was screaming for your verbal consent. “Baby, if you don’t tell me our safe word now, I’m going to have to stop, okay?” He warned, using the tone you registered as being slightly stern when you descended into your little persona. 

“Blue,” You muttered directly into his ears. You rubbed your thighs together involuntarily. Truthfully, you had been thinking about this since you were in the office, and you weren’t sure if you could hold it in any longer. “It’s blue, please… I thought about this at work…” Your lips moved closer and captured his earlobe, sucking on it in a silent attempt to speed things up.

Shit shit shit – Jiung could only let out a choked hum as you attacked his sensitive spot. He knew that even though you were his little girl, deep down you were still a vixen begging and yearning to be fucked, and he knew you knew all the right buttons to push to get what you wanted.

He was never very good at denying you, anyway. Jiung spoiled you rotten, he thought, as he pulled you away from him. “Sit up for me, baby. I want you to be a good girl for me and suck my cock first. Can you do that?”

You nodded way too eagerly, eyes shining and lips parted as you looked up at him, waiting for Jiung to rid himself of his sweats and boxers, all in one go. You felt saliva pool in the back of your throat as you finally caught sight of the main prize. Jiung was not extremely long or girthy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, as your clammy fingers wrapped around what was undoubtedly the most perfect cock you’ve ever seen. You liked how your small fingers struggled slightly to wrap all the way around, forcing you to use both hands as you guided the swollen tip towards your waiting mouth. Greedy, your tongue peeked out to sneak a taste of his glistening pre-cum. 

Giggling, you hummed to yourself in satisfaction before letting a comment slip, “It’s nice…”

Jiung was halfway to losing his mind but couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. You were, after all, his adorable, precious girl. “Well,” He placed an encouraging hand on your cheek, “I’m glad you think so.”

You nodded in agreement, letting your hands wander across his midriff, fingers ghosting over the black butterflies peeking through his thin shirt. He helped you by raising the shirt and capturing the hem between his teeth, skin tingling with excitement as you licked every tattoo on his upper body with your slick, hot tongue.

Once you were satisfied, you finally allowed yourself to indulge in his intoxicating scent. Mirroring your earlier actions, you let Jiung into your welcoming mouth, quickly sucking and swirling your tongue around his length at a steady pace. Instantly, he released the shirt from his lips and let out a long moan.

Hearing his noises only spurred you on further. Determined, one hand reached underneath to massage his balls while the other fisted the rest of his uncovered length, doing everything at once – a three-in-one, if you will, in the hopes of driving Jiung absolutely insane.

“Baby… Fuck, how are you so good at this?” He grunted. “Who taught you to be this good, hmm?”

You tried to answer with an excited “You!” but seemed to have forgotten about the dick in your mouth, making you cough and sputter before swallowing even more of him in. Jiung had to forcefully grip your hair into a ponytail to keep himself in check, fighting the primitive urge to continue choking you with his thick cock. 

But why did he want to fight, you wondered? You recovered from the slip up like a champ, quickly relaxing your throat muscles to take in more of his length until both of you groaned at the impact of his tip kissing the back of your throat. You gagged, feeling your pussy leak and clench around nothing.

Jiung wasn’t faring any better as he screwed his eyes shut, groaning deeply. He lost partial control of his lower body as he rutted against that same spot again and again, selfishly hoping that you would gag on his cock over and over. “Ah, your mouth is so perfect for me…”

Your pussy pulsed at the praise, always a sucker for pleasing your boyfriend both in and outside of the bedroom. You wanted him to use you until he was painting ropes of white sticky hot cum on your face, but it seemed like he had other plans, suddenly yanking your face away from his pulsing, red cock.

You just stared at him, mouth agape in shock at the abrupt stop. 

The next thing you knew, you were being carried bridal style towards the bedroom. Jiung set you down gently in the middle of the bed, amongst a small army of your favourite plushies. He fluffed the pillows under your head, arranged your body in a comfortable position below him and tucked a lock of hair behind your ears. 

“Hey,” He breathed, nose bumping against yours. “Just checking in, how are you feeling?”

At that, you felt hot tears prickle in the corner of your eyes. How did you ever get so lucky to land someone like him? He was always so sweet and caring with you. Overwhelmed, you could only nod, feeling a flurry of emotions bubble up to the surface.

“Hey, hey, baby…” Jiung’s finger captured a stray tear, concerned. “Do you want to keep going? You know we can stop at any time.”

You nodded in affirmation, looking up at him with pleading, sparkling eyes. At that moment, Jiung thought you had never looked so devastatingly beautiful. He swore to himself that he would always be your lover, and your protector.

“I’ll be gentle with you, I promise.”

And you believed Jiung with your whole heart. You closed your eyes and felt him kiss away your tears as his fingers slowly unbuttoned your blouse. Little by little, your stress and worries melted away with the feathery touch of his lips against your exposed skin. He pressed open-mouth kisses trailing from the top of your bra to your navel, swiftly pulling down your slacks, leaving you in your underwear. Somehow, while you were losing yourself to the sensations, Jiung managed to pull your favourite pair of frilly, knee high socks over your legs. Partly because he knew your feet get cold easily, but mostly because he liked how they hugged your thighs.

“My sweet girl…” Jiung pressed a thumb to your white-ribboned panties, feeling a wet spot at your centre. His breath caught in his throat at your leaking arousal. 

You could only whine, hips pressing against his palm in search of more friction. 

Jiung got the message, undoing your bra then pulling down your panties in quick succession, leaving you bare for him. “So perfect,” he whispered to himself more than anything, blood rushing to his hardened length. His mouth latched onto your left nipple as he rolled the right one between eager fingers. 

“Jiung…” You sighed, pleasure coursing through your veins like an electric shock. “Please…”

After a harsh suck, he released your nipple with a loud pop. “Please what, baby?” 

“Please, I want you inside…” You whined, greedy for more.

“Baby, I need to prep you first.” He thumbed the entrance of your sweet hole, gathering your slick before swiftly pushing inside.

You huffed, shaking your head. One finger was not enough anymore. “Want you inside now, please!”

Jiung’s cock twitched at your words. “But it’ll hurt –” 

“I want it to, please! I just want to feel you deep inside,” You were desperate at this point, begging him to fill you up. “Thought about this all day!”

Jiung cursed under his breath, turned on beyond belief at your eagerness. What his baby wants, his baby gets.

He slowly eased his hard length past the walls of your pussy, the glide aided by a mix of your saliva from earlier and your wet juices. Then, with one quick thrust, he slammed all the way in, the curved tip of his cock kissing your cervix. The two of you moaned out in unison, relieved to finally be back home in each other’s bodies. 

“Missed this…” Jiung was struggling to get the words out. It had been too long since you were last intimate and he forgot how tight your little cunt was. “Miss feeling you around me.”

You could only moan pathetically in response, eyes rolled back in pure pleasure. You felt so full of him, and so full of his love for you.

Jiung waited patiently for you to adjust to his size, all while pressing tender kisses along your jaw, and lightly rubbing the cool tip of his nose against your rosy cheeks. 

He caged you in with his arms, and rested his warm forehead against yours. You basked in his hot breaths fanning across your flushed cheeks as your pussy clenched and unclenched to adjust to his size. You craned your neck upwards, and Jiung understood you immediately, devouring your lips in a slow and passionate kiss. Your tongues tangled in a fiery dance whilst all your thoughts melted away. Your anxious brain was calm once more, as you surrendered your body and mind entirely to Jiung.

“Ready?” He asked, thumbs rubbing circular patterns against your waist.

You hummed, hips rolling up in search of friction. Jiung got the message, and pulled out gently before thrusting in deep. “God, Y/N… You’re so perfect for me, so good.”

He was making love to you – there was no doubt about it. Anyone could tell, from the way he rocked his hips with conviction, to the way his eyebrows scrunched in concentration, determined to make you feel good. Jiung was a passionate lover. And with each thrust, he replaced the hurt and frustration with love and blissful pleasure.

You were so lost in it; in him, and the way that he made you feel like you were floating on cloud nine. It was just you and him, and nothing else. It was such a relief to be treated like this by someone who loved you as much as Jiung did. Your lips, which were permanently casted into a frown throughout the work day, worked itself into a soft smile. You closed your eyes and just allowed the pleasure to course through your entire body. 

Jiung, noticing that you were getting lost in the moment, helped to gather your legs and wrap them around his waist for you. He held them there, enjoying the slight burn as the fabric of your socks rubbed against his back. That way, he could make sure your bodies were impossibly close. 

“You okay?” Jiung breathed, nudging your cheeks with his before pressing his lips on your forehead. 

You could only moan in response, clenching your walls every single time he thrusted into you. The new angle allowed him to thrust even deeper, and that combined with the way his fingers played with your clit, had you inching closer and closer to your sweet release.

“Jiung – Ah! Close…” 

He kept hitting that spot inside of you that made you see stars, while his fingers picked up speed. You could feel yourself tethering at the edge of the precipice. All it took was a –

“I love you, baby, no matter what, I love you more than you know…” Jiung professed his love before pressing his lips to yours for the nth time that night. “Yeah, that’s it. I gotchu, you’re safe with me.” That was more than enough to bring you over the edge.

Your velvety walls clenched around him so tight that he quickly followed, panting heavily as he filled you up to the brim with his cum.

epilogue.

As you basked in the afterglow of your climaxes, you felt Jiung littering kisses all over your face, and giggled. 

“How was it?” He asked jokingly.

“Hmm…” You pretended to think about it with your eyes closed, making both of you laugh. “Thank you, really. It was just what I needed.”

“What can I say? I’m the perfect boyfriend.”

“You really are, Choi Jiung. I love you.”

“I love you more.”

[aphroditeinthesea]

“ guilty as sin ii ”

jason grace x fem!reader

part two of guilty as sin | pt. 1

a/n the vote was split, so there’s no intense smut but insinuation and make out (overly descriptive bc i didnt want it to be just smutty)

. ݁₊ ⚡︎ . ݁ ⁺₊

Death seemed like a nice concept that night. Everything that had happened seemed like too much. Either Piper was going to kill her or Jason and Piper make up and kill her together. Which was worse? She laid awake in bed that night fantasizing about throwing herself to the wolves or the ocean rocks. These were different from her regular fatal fantasies of Jason, the ones that left her feeling as though her bed sheets were ablaze and all she wanted to do was scream his name. She bit her lip as she looked around the cabin at her sleeping siblings. She was absolutely envious of the peace they all felt.

She never could’ve imagined that Jason felt the same towards her. She started wondering the options, if she did go for him, would she be bad? If she didn't, would she be mad? Or wise? Not wise. She decided she could never be wise. Someone wise wouldn't have let this go one for so long. Someone wise wouldn't be thinking about guys during everything going on. There were so many things to worry about, and instead, she was worrying about a love affair.

She felt her stomach turn and decided to stand up. She walked into the bathroom just to check her hair. It was frizzy from her pillow, so she urgently tried to brush it down, but in a panic, threw down her brush. Unfortunately for her, she did so too aggressively, causing it to slip off and into the toilet.

“Oh my gods,” she whispered, she looked up to the ceiling, “good one, Aphrodite.” She huffed, deciding to leave it there. She slowly walked out of the bathroom, to the cabin door. She took a deep breath as she left her cabin. She tried to be quick, so no one saw her.

She reached cabin one, knocking on the door. There was a shuffle of noise inside before the son of Jupiter opened the door for her. There he stood, wearing nothing but blue pajama pants that were low enough to sow the band of his boxers. She swore that her heart stopped at the sight.

“Y/N,” he spoke, his voice cracking, “I was just thinking about you.”

She walked in. She swallowed before breathing out questioningly, “Piper?”

He shut the door behind her. He bit his lip just next to his scar, “I broke up with her,” he led her over to his bed to sit with him, “she took it well. She told me that she could feel that I was in love with someone else, she just didn't want to believe it.”

“Did you tell her that it was because of me?”

“She knew before I even had a chance to tell her.”

“I feel awful,” she frowned as she thought of how she must have one of her best friends to feel so low.

“It’s not your fault, it’s mine,” he responded, “I shouldn't have kissed you. I couldn't live with that guilt if I had stayed with her.”

“I shouldn't have thrown that all at you like that,” she admitted, “Annabeth was right.”

“What did Annabeth say?”

She sighed, “that I shouldn't go after you because of Piper. But you have no idea how you’ve haunted me so stunningly.”

“The feelings would’ve killed one of us.”

She chuckled, “what a way to die.”

He smiled, lightly resting a hand on her back. She looked up at him, cupping the smooth skin of his face with her hands, she hesitated before pressing her lips against his. His muscular arms wrapped around her to pull her onto his lap to straddle him. His hands wandered to grip onto the bottom of her.

“Jason,” she hummed as she let her hands move down to now be feeling his abdomen.

He smiled into the kiss before his tongue carved its way into her mouth. He leaned back, letting her hover him. Their kisses got sloppier as they both grew impatient. The way his lips felt was so different from her dreams and fantasies of him. His lips weren’t as soft as she imagined, they were chapped but she couldn't even pay attention to that as they were slowly pulling at her own. His calloused fingers trailed up her shirt, drawing circles on her back.

Her body tensed as she felt an electric shock course through her.

He froze, quickly pulling his hand away, “I’m sorry, my gods, are you okay?”

She nodded, “I’m fine,” she leaned back into him, “do that again.”

“What?”

“Do it again,” she mumbled against his lips.

His hand traced her stomach, he locked his eyes with hers waiting for a signal. When she nodded, he took a deep breath before gently shocking her again.

She let out a soft groan, “oh my gods.”

He worriedly looked up at her, “was that okay?”

She brushed her lips against his, “yeah, thanks.”

He smirked, “thanks?”

She laughed, bringing her hands to brush along his cheekbones, “you know what I mean.” She rolled off of him, she awkwardly scooted to now be leaning on the headboard of his bed.

He smiled at her before crawling up to be in front of her. He connected their lips once again, her body now pressed against his pillows, which cushioned her as he pinned her further into his mattress.

His lips suddenly stopped moving. He opened his eyes just to look at her and really examine every inch of her face.

“What?”

“Sorry,” he whispered, “you're just beautiful.”

She felt blood rush to her cheeks, “thank you.”

He wetly kissed her jaw, “it’s true.”

“Hm,” she grinned as she began to thread her fingers through his hair, “you're not too bad either, Grace.”

He nibbled at the skin of her neck, carefully marking her up, blowing on the skin after leaving his mark. She knew in the morning she would be playing with her concealer, trying to figure out how to cover it up, but that was a problem for future her. Right now her entire world revolved around the boy who was on top of her.

He reached her chest with his lips. His blue eyes looked up at her like a doe, “is this okay?” he asked as he held onto the edge of her shirt.

“Yes, Jason,” she replied, moving up her arms so he could easily peel it off of her. He slowly did so, making sure she was comfortable the whole time. He threw the shirt onto the floor before turning his attention back to Y/N. Her breath hitched at the cool air of the cabin, but was too distracted by the body heat radiating off of Jason to care.

He continued to softly kiss down her chest and stomach. He began to carefully pull down her pajama pants. “Y/N?”

She looked down at him, “yeah, Jase?”

“You're okay, right?”

She insistently nodded, “of course,” she desperately wanted to follow up with please, please, please touch me, but that seemed a little embarrassing, so she restrained herself.

He hesitated to speak again, “I’ve never done this before,” he admitted, “so I don't really know what I’m doing.”

She giggled, “that’s okay, Jason,” she responded, “me neither.”

She felt hair tickling her jaw and arms around her. She turned to see the blond holding tightly onto her as he slept soundly. She grinned, gently brushing her fingers along his bicep.

He looked up, opening his eyes, “good morning,” he smiled. He pressed a kiss to her jaw, his hand felt down her body that was covered by one of his t-shirts, “how are you feeling?”

She moved around to now be facing him, “I’m amazing, what about you?”

“I”m good,” he kissed her lips, a feeling that she could never get enough of, “I just wanted to make sure that you're not in pain or anything.”

“I’m okay,” she held onto his jaw, “I promise.”

He nodded, “I believe you, Y/N.”

She realized then that everything she had been feeling was finally fresh out the slammer.

—

corny ending, sorry

[dees-writing-corner]

ink and needles

pairings: tattoo artist! bf! wooyoung x fem!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2890

main masterlist

“Hongjoong, will you stop pacing?” Exasperated, I stood in front of him, blocking his path. “You’ve made my floorboards at least 3 shades lighter. Now can you please tell me why you’ve barged into my house at 3 o’clock in the morning with the intention of putting a dent in my living room floor?”   

“Okay, so, remember that little trip we have with some of the boys on Saturday?”   

Curling back into the corner of the sofa, I nodded, “Yeah, what about it?”   

Hongjoong smiled awkwardly as he inched away from me, “Well, um, some of the boys has turned into all of the boys.”   

Raising a brow, I sent him a look, “Okay? Why are you getting so worked up about that?”   

“It means Wooyoung’s gonna be there as well.”   

“So?”   

Hongjoong frowned as he looked at me, “You’re alright with Wooyoung being there?”   

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Standing up, I made my way back into my bedroom, Hongjoong trailing behind me as he turned off the lights.   

“I - uh- I just, you two have a love-hate relationship going on, just thought that you might want to get away from all that while you're trying to relax.”   

Pulling my duvet back, I paused before looking up at Hongjoong, who was leaning against the wall, “Wha-? Why would you think that?”   

Slipping into bed, I looked at Hongjoong as he made his way to the door.   

“You two bicker. A lot. Every time you see each other, you bicker. Doesn't it get tiring sometimes?”   

“It’s just how we are. I mean, yes, he knows how to get on my nerves, and can sometimes not know when to stop talking, but he’s a good b- a good friend. I wouldn't change it for anything.”  

Turning my back to him, I reached my hand out and turned off the lights.   

"You know where the guest rooms are, now goodnight, Joong."  

I watched as Hongjoong slid into the passenger side of the car before I looked at Wooyoung in the backseat grinning.  

Leaning down next to Hongjoong's window, I raised a brow at both him and Seonghwa, "You two do know that you've just assigned yourselves a death sentence by putting Wooyoung and I in the same car, right?"  

Sliding into the seat next to Wooyoung, I watched as Seonghwa adjusted the rear-view mirror before backing out the driveway with a nod, "Yeah, yeah, just don't bicker the whole way there or else I'm gonna be throwing one of you out."  

Casting a glance at Wooyoung, I nodded, "As long as he knows when to shut up, we'll be fine Hwa."  

Wooyoung pouted, putting a hand on his chest dramatically as he leaned over to me, "How could you say that about me?"  

Rolling my eyes, I pushed his face away from mine, "Oh, hush, ask anyone in our friend group what your favourite pastime is and they'll say trying to rile me up."  

I could see him nod in my peripheral vision, "True, I like seeing you all riled up, you get all pouty and it's cute."  

Making a sound from the back of my throat, I turned to look at him, "I don't pout when I'm annoyed."  

Wooyoung was about to say something when Hongjoong cut in, "You do. You furrow your brows and then start pouting."  

Looking over to Seonghwa, I saw him nod along, "Yeah, they're right." Stopping at a red light, he glanced back at me and grinned, "You're doing it right now."  

Pausing, I realised that, yes, I was indeed pouting.  

Running a hand over my face, I glared at the three men laughing at me, "Why are you guys ganging up on me today?"  

I felt Wooyoung put his hand on top of my head as he ruffled up my hair, "Because it's fun."  

Swatting his hand away, I tried to smooth down my hair, "Stop it. I just washed my hair this morning, and if it gets all frizzy because you did that, you and I are gonna have a talk, pretty boy."  

Chuckling, Wooyoung pushed my hands out of the way before running his own over my hair, "Your hair's fine sweetheart."  

I could see Hongjoong share a confused look with Seonghwa before he glanced back at us. Ignoring it, I chose to concentrate on my phone.  

Replying to the messages Mingi sent me, I felt a presence next to me. Turning my head to the side, I frowned when I noticed Wooyoung's face right next to mine.  

Glancing up at Hongjoong and Seonghwa, I kept my voice low, "What are you doing?"  

"Quick question."  

Feeling his lips brush the shell of my ear, I leaned back slightly, "What is it? And can you please quit breathing down my neck, it tickles."  

Wooyoung chuckled slightly, "Whatever you say. I just wanted to ask if we're telling them tonight?"  

"Yeah?" Turning my head to look at him, "When else are we gonna tell them? I don't think you can keep your hands to yourself for two days, Woo."  

Wooyoung smirked, amusement dancing in his eyes as he thought of something, "Hmm, I definitely won't be able to."  

Arriving at the holiday house late in the afternoon, everyone had just about enough time to settle into their rooms before our dinner would arrive.  

Exiting the bathroom, I noticed Wooyoung sitting in my bed, mindlessly scrolling through his phone.  

Making my way over, I sat down next to him, "And to what do I owe this pleasure?"  

Grinning, Wooyoung put his phone down and wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer, "Just came to see how my pretty baby's doing."  

Scrunching up my nose at the nickname, I let out a small chuckle, "I should be the one asking you that. You're the one that's been scared to tell them."  

Tightening his arm around my waist, Wooyoung nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck, "That's only because I'm afraid one of them is gonna castrate me. They're all like overprotective brothers and it's scary."  

Wiggling out of his arms, I stood up from the bed, holding a hand out to him, "Come on, let's go down, they're probably already in the kitchen."  

Wooyoung latched on to my hand, pulling me out of the bedroom and downstairs. As we rounded the corner to the kitchen, we paused when we heard Hongjoong talking.  

In the kitchen, the rest of the boys were setting up the table ready for dinner as Hongjoong and Seonghwa took the food off the serving carts, "No, but something felt strange between them. Hwa, back me up here."  

Seonghwa set the last plate on the table with a shrug, "Yeah, they were acting a bit weird. I mean, they were still bickering, but also, like, flirting."  

Everyone looked at Hongjoong and Seonghwa in disbelief as Yeosang let out a laugh, "I'm sorry, flirting? Those two? Okay, Wooyoung might come off a bit flirty at times, but that's because he's Wooyoung. It's not like Y/N flirts back."  

Hongjoong simply nodded, leaning against the kitchen island, "Yeah, that's what normally happens, but Y/N called him 'pretty boy' today." 

Sharing a look with Wooyoung, I could see the amusement dancing in his eyes. Shaking my head, I entered the kitchen with Wooyoung following behind me.  

"And what are we talking about?"  

The sound of my voice startled them as they whipped their heads towards us.  

Jongho's eyes flickered between Wooyoung and I before glaring at Wooyoung when he caught something in his expression, "No."  

I felt Wooyoung snake an arm around me, grinning up at Jongho, "I'm gonna have to say, yes."  

Jongho threw his head back as he let out a groan, "Ugh, we're gonna have to deal with you two bickering AND flirting?" Jongho made his way to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer, "This is going to be a long weekend, beer anyone?"  

The others looked at each other before Mingi broke the silence, "Uh, anyone want to fill us in?" 

Running a hand over my face, I grinned awkwardly at them, "We're dating?"  

Turning on the reading lamp, I picked up my book as I waited for Wooyoung to finish in the bathroom.  

"Well," Flinching slightly, I was startled by Wooyoung's sudden entrance, "That went better than I expected."  

Looking up, I watched as Wooyoung exited the bathroom, the lettering at the base of his neck and the serpent that curled at his shoulder blade on display.  

"Really?" Putting the book down, I arched an eyebrow as he slid in next to me. "What did you think would happen?"  

Once Wooyoung was comfortable against the headboard, I sat up, opting to staddle Wooyoung with my arms wrapped around his neck as his hands found purchase on my waist.  

"Definitely didn't think Hongjoong was going to point a wooden spoon at me and threaten to hunt me down with one of his easels."  

Laughing, I couldn't help but envision Hongjoong chasing Wooyoung with an easel, "What would he even accomplish? Those things are heavy!"  

Sliding one of my hands down, I traced the tattoo over his chest as the other played with the hairs on the nape of his neck.  

Wooyoung picked up the hand on his chest and raised it up to his lips, pressing a kiss at the pulse point, "What's going through that pretty little head of yours, hmm?"  

Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I raised my eyes to meet his, a shy expression taking over my face, "I wanna get a tattoo."  

Wooyoung's eyebrows shot up as he looked up at me in surprise, "Yeah? I thought you were afraid of needles."  

Humming, I felt Wooyoung's hands slip under my shirt, his thumbs rubbing circles on my hips, "I am, but I want to get one and maybe a few more piercings."  

Wooyoung grinned as he nuzzled into the side of my face, lips brushing against my cheek, "Want me to do them for you, pretty?"  

Pulling back slightly, I looked at him, "Please?"  

Wooyoung pressed a kiss on my lips, leaning his forehead against mine, "Let's talk about this tomorrow. I'll book you in when the new shop opens."  

Wooyoung's arms tightened around me, pulling me flush against his chest as his lips found their way down the column of my neck.  

“Please tell me you’re joking.”  

Turning my head to glance at Hongjoong, I took a step closer to him as we made our way down the street.  

“What?” I shrugged, turning to face ahead. “I’ve wanted to get a tattoo for ages. Plus, I want to get a couple more piercings, so, why not?”  

Hongjoong looked at me in disbelief, “You’re terrified of needles. You can’t even get a shot without getting all anxious, and you think you can sit through being jabbed continuously with one?”  

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at his words, “You’re exaggerating, I’m just not too fond of needles, that’s all.”  

Hongjoong moved to hook an arm with mine, “Hmmm. When are you getting it done?”  

Glancing at the watch on my wrist, I looked at him with a sheepish smile, “My appointment’s in about 10 minutes, so, um let's hurry up.”

Hongjoong paused for a second before pinching my arm, “You could’ve told me sooner!”  

“Yeah, well, uh, we’re here.”  

Stopping in front of a glass door, Hongjoong squinted up at the sign above.  

“This is Wooyoung and San’s new shop.”  

“It is.”  

Pushing the door open, Hongjoong and I walked in, taking a seat as San handed me a couple pieces of paper to look through.  

“You chose Wooyoung over ME?” Hongjoong whined as he looked at me with a pout.  

Not even looking up, I shook my head, "As much as I love you, Joong, the tattoos that you do are too.... extravagant for my taste."  

Signing the last piece of paper, I handed them to San before looking at Hongjoong, "Are you staying out here with San?"  

Seeing him nod, I stood up and made my way to the last room down the corridor, where Wooyoung's workstation was.  

Pushing the door open, I saw Wooyoung moving around the room, getting everything ready for the tattoo. Upon hearing the door creak open, he looked up, a smile making its way across his face when he saw me.  

Closing the door behind me, I let Wooyoung wrap his arms around me and press a kiss on my temple.  

"Nervous?"  

Nodding against him, I stepped back, placing my bag and jacket on the chair next to the door.  

"Of course I am."  

Wooyoung gave me a soft smile as he motioned me over to the workbench, "Come on, I'll do your piercings first."  

Settling down, I clipped my hair back as Wooyoung put his gloves on.

"You want two more helix piercings, yeah? Same ear?"  

Nodding, I watched as Wooyoung took a marker out, marking the positions of the piercings in my left ear before setting it down and taking a sterile needle out. Screwing my eyes closed, I turned my head to the side as I held onto the sides of Wooyoung's shirt as he slotted himself between my legs.  

Hearing Wooyoung countdown quietly, I let out a small breath before wincing as the needle went through.  

"Alright, one more to go."  

Once the second one went through, I slowly let go of Wooyoung's shirt, smoothing down the wrinkles as Wooyoung changed out the needles for studs.  

Turning to look at him, Wooyoung gave me an encouraging smile as he ran his hand up and down my thighs.  

"Ready for the tattoo, pretty?"  

Seeing me nod, Wooyoung stepped back from me to prepare his tattoo gun, "You're gonna have to take off your shirt and bra, babe."  

Unbuttoning my shirt, I slid it off my shoulders before unhooking my bra. Turning on the bench, I leaned my back against the seat with an arm covering myself.  

Wooyoung snapped on a pair of fresh gloves before seating himself on the stool next to me to start prepping my skin, "Ready?"  

Casting a nervous side glance, I smiled, "Definitely."  

Wooyoung pressed a quick kiss on my cheek before turning on the tattoo gun. Hearing the buzz fill the room, my body tensed slightly, before relaxing under Wooyoung's touch.  

Feeling the needle prick my skin, I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. The tattoo was a simple chrysanthemum design on the side of my ribs, and it didn't take long to complete.  

Wiping away the excess ink, Wooyoung leaned back to have a better look before tilting his head towards the mirror, "Go on, take a look before I wrap it."  

Hoping off the bench, I made my way to the side of the room where the mirror was.  

Scanning my eyes over the design, I smiled, "This is good."  

Chuckling, Wooyoung made his way over to me with a bandage in hand, "Of course it does! I did it!"  

Chuckling, I waited until Wooyoung finished whatever it was that he needed to do, before turning around and wrapping my arms around his neck, pressing a kiss on his lips, "Thank you."  

"My pleasure, pretty. But why a chrysanthemum?"  

Smiling, I let go of him and went over to the bench to slip my shirt back on, "It's the birth flower for November."  

Putting my bra into my bag, I turned to see Wooyoung standing at his workstation with a disinfectant spray in hand with a surprised expression, "Oh? So, it's for me then?"  

Shaking my head, a fond smile made its way across my face, "I was born in November too, pretty boy."  

Wooyoung wiped down the remaining bit of the workstation before walking out the door with me, my bag and jacket in hand.  

"Yeah, but I'd much rather think it's for me."  

Laughing, I paused slightly when we entered the reception area, "Uh, where are San and Hongjoong?"  

Wooyoung picked up a sticky note from behind the reception desk, "Well, they've left already. You were the last one of the day."  

Looking out the window, I noticed that it was raining pretty heavily outside.  

"Did you drive here, babe?"  

Wooyoung handed me my jacket before taking his off the clothing rack by the door, "Yeah, it's parked down the street."  

Exiting the shop, Wooyoung locked to door before turning to me, placing his jacket over the top of our heads, "Dinner at mine?"  

Seeing me nod, we both darted out into the rain and ran towards his car.  

Reaching the car, Wooyoung quickly unlocked it allowing me to slide into the passenger side, shaking my arms slightly.  

Wooyoung got into the seat beside me, shaking his head slightly to get rid of some of the water particles in there.  

Turning on the car ignition, Wooyoung turned to me, smiling, "What? You're staring, pretty."  

Taking his hand, I pressed a kiss on the back of it, "I love you."  

Wooyoung's hand tightened its hold on mine before letting go to tilt my head towards him. He leaned over the centre console, one of his hands finding its way to the back of my head as his lips found mine.  

"I love you too." 

taglist: @khuyyn (if you want to get updates for my oneshots/imagines, just message/comment)

[rorichuu]

(never done this before so i apologize if its shite)

would it be possible for like tf2 medic or tf2 engie having a really scout-level stupid gender neutral s/o

one who wouldnt be paying attention to how asleep their foot it and ending up spraining it and then acting like ot was the floors fault

or whod do a backflip off stairs for gum off the ceiling and half a penny

and them like crawling back to their intelligent boyfriend like they just ran head first into an electric fence

(sorry if this was done before lmao)

relationships for dummies — engineer/medic x gn!reader

pairing: engineer/medic x gn!reader (separate)

authors note: THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE LMAOOO this was a remarkable ask thank you so much for sending this in anon - hope you like it :D

disclaimer: none!

MEDIC:

no one knows how you two got together

like nobody knows

some theorize but no one has gotten a definitive answer

but the real reason was that he just loved how absolutely unhinged you were

like you had NO fear to do the things you did

he. fucking. LOVED THAT.

studies you like you're a creature in a jar

medic isn't so much of a worrier, not like engie is

if you're hurt, he can patch you back up like it's no biggie 🙄🙄

and highkey just as chaotic as you are

so you guys are partners in MANY crimes

but he also finds it very humorous whenever you do pretty stupid stuff

if you sprained your ankle because your foot fell asleep, he'd sigh tbh

it's happened so many times

and he told you how to prevent that

so many times

but he's obviously more than willing to help you; he's your crutch when you need him

if y'all are on the battlefield, he's more than likely to be by your side throughout the entire fight

even more than heavy

most of the time, he's just trying to refrain from your usage of the respawn machine with the amount of times you've tripped or tried to perform some kinda stunt

used uber on you once

it was

interesting

obviously he was more than willing to use uber on you

he was so damn curious on how'd you boost and what you'd do

and the thrill of it all?? drunk off of it

he loves you very much

supporter in all of your idiocy!!!

ENGINEER:

i'll be honest

finds it more entertaining than anything

although, he sometimes... worries?

he remembers the time where you tried to slap a sticker on the ceiling and ended up tripping on the ladder scout was (so poorly supporting) and ended up face first with the floor...

medic helped retrieve your lost tooth

engineer kept asking if you were okay that day LMAOOO

but yeah, the dude worries for you sometimes - you can't just go around doing stunts without some fear of hurting yourself!

kind of a helicopter mom of some sorts

but when he isn't worrying about you, and you're doing harmless shit, he finds it HUMOROUS ASF

like when you decided to sit on your foot for too long and tried to walk and just fell

he was laughing and slapping his knee

the old man he is

he DID try and help you up but you fell over again and I swear to god you put the man into cardiac arrest

tries his very best to warn you or help you prevent idiotic acts like these

but he definitely isn't overbearing

he's more of a watch from afar with a beer in hand while he gives you a thumbs up while you nearly drown in a pool with your floaties

he's that kinda guy

and I stand by it

. . .

one time you successfully tried to jump an electric fence (with demo, heavy, and scout as witnesses)

and hey!!! you did it!!! ........on the 7th time!

you and scout are besties I don't make the rules

you guys literally feast off each other's energies

but anyway

you went running towards your boyfriend, calling his name as you stumbled into his workroom.

"Hey, honey bee! What's going- ... on?"

he tried.

he tried so hard not to laugh.

but your frizzy hair and disheveled clothes was too much not to marvel

"What'd you do this time?" He laughed as he was quick to smooth over your crazed hair.

loves you so much

his little firecracker

.

.

.

[lambsouvlaki]

For the Hell of It - Pampering

Characters: Jason Todd x fem!oc

Rating and warnings: G, mention of violence between Bruce and Jason.

Word count: 750

Summary: She looks after Jason after he has a bad fight with Bruce.

Masterlist

Jason leaned his head forward, his expression hidden, as she massaged his tense and knotted shoulders. His hair was going frizzy in the steam of the bath, and his skin was buttery from the products she melted in it. Music played softly through the walls from the living room of his apartment. 

He was usually bullish about letting her pamper him, or letting anyone look after him at all, but he was emotionally wrung out tonight. He gave only token resistance before caving. 

He and Bruce were fighting. It was much worse than she had seen before. To her horror, everyone else was grieved but nobody was surprised. 

Jason had dark bruising around his eye and his wrist was in a splint, elevated above the water. The bruising had bloomed so colourful it could only have been earlier in the week, but he didn’t actually tell her at the time. He didn’t know how to talk about the painful things, outside of throwing them back in people’s faces when he felt vulnerable. 

She had to hear about the fight from Babs. 

He made a soft noise as she steadily worked the broad expanse of muscle. She kneeled outside the partially sunken tub. The tension had been slowly seeping out of him since he sank into the fragrant, milky water. Coco-butter, vanilla, and sandalwood coaxed him into letting go.

She had known him long enough to know there was a rhythm to his relationship with Bruce, and his family as a whole. Like a tide, it ebbed and flowed. Sometimes it flooded, breached the barricades and destroyed things, sometimes it withdrew and exposed all the little things normally hidden beneath the waves. 

And given time, it always rolled back. Even if she wished it wouldn’t. 

Now wasn’t the time to be obnoxious about her opinions on his family. She was pretty sure he knew anyway. 

He turned very quiet as she worked out the last of the tension from his upper body, then smoothed her hands over his skin. She pulled him gently to lean back against the back of the tub. She got up to fetch the shampoo. 

His splinted arm reached out as she returned. He wrapped his hand around her leg and tugged her closer. 

Hearing the silent request, she swung her leg around to sit behind him on the lip. A bare leg sank into the water on each side of him. He pulled one over his shoulder and held her calf. He pressed a kiss to her knee. 

She poured hot water over his hair with a jug, carefully shielding his eyes with her other hand.

He began to silently cry. 

She didn’t say anything. She worked up a lather and massaged the shampoo into his scalp. 

“Why do you stick with me?” he asked, his voice rough. 

Because I love you.

She bit her tongue. 

“You make me happy.”

He scoffed wetly. “You can do better.” 

“I can do a lot worse.”

He moved his head as though to look away. Only there was no looking away, no escaping her here. His hand on her leg flexed. 

“I can’t promise you forever,” he said, tone hard with self hatred. “I can’t even promise next week. Or tomorrow.” 

She gently rubbed little circles into the base of his scalp, just behind his ears, as she thought that over, and tried to hide away the ache in her heart. There were no rings or white picket fences in their future, she always knew that. But he would be at her side with just as much dedication as if there was. She knew that beyond any doubt. Jason didn’t know how to abandon people. If he did… he wouldn’t have two black eyes and a shattered helmet. 

It wasn’t fair. To him, first and foremost. She hated it. He couldn’t promise what he did not have. 

“Nobody can promise forever,” she said eventually. 

He opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “Well, liars and fools can. But I don’t want empty promises.”

He grasped her leg tighter.

She rinsed the lather out, shielding his eyes again. 

He tilted his head back against her. His eyes were shut, with shiny tear tracks down both cheeks. The last vestiges of resistance gave out and he went boneless in her grasp. 

She leaned down, trailing her hands down his scarred body to rest over his heart. She pressed a kiss to his forehead and counted the beats, while he fell apart.

Next>>

[akataiii]

PPB & HS (Dabi x Female! Reader)

“FUCKK!”

Dabi startles awake from his nap on the couch of the League’s hideout, blue flames flickering alive in his palm and eyes darting around the room to find whatever it was that woke him up. 

“I'm so done!” He hears again, less loud than before but still at a relatively high volume. Enough to induce a headache.

Dabi allows his flames to die out, dragging a hand along his face in exasperation. Still, a tiny voice in the back of his head nags at him to get up and go check it out. He knows who the voice belongs to, after all, and he is loathe to admit he's always a tiny bit worried when said voice is in distress.

After hearing another frustrated yell, Dabi hauls himself off the couch with a grunt and makes his way up the stairs to the top floor of the hideout.

Bless Shigaraki’s thought process when he decided to move the hideout from the bar to an abandoned motel. The bedrooms were a much-needed upgrade from them sharing the cramped living room-esque space of the bar to sleep.

Dabi reaches the door he's looking for, hearing another angry yell from inside and letting out a resigned sigh. Whatever he finds behind this door—he will deal with it like the responsible adult that he is. He will not engage in any childish behaviour like baseless bantering, petty insults, unnecessary taunts etc, etc.

With a final sigh, Dabi swings the door open, ready to offer his support and—“Oh. My god,” he says before he can stop himself, the hand not holding the doorknob coming up to cover his agape mouth.

Y/N swivels around in her seat, eyes already narrowed and glaring as a forewarning. Dabi tries his best—really, he does—to not laugh at the absolute abysmal horror that sits atop Y/N’s head. 

Her hair was already naturally frizzy on a good, humid free day, but come rain and the morning after, and she turns into some kind of Persian cat that got thrown into a tumble dryer. Just her luck that there happened to be a nice rainstorm the night before.

Y/N notices Dabi desperately trying to hold back his laughter, and she raises a hand, pointing an accusing finger at him. “Don't you dare,” she warns, eyes narrowing into thin slits until her pupils are barely visible.

He loses the battle. After the first snort makes it past Dabi’s lips, he's done for, dissolving into a fit of laughter that has his stomach aching and has him believing he ripped out a staple or two. 

“I didn't realize you were leaving villainy behind to pursue the life of a clown,” he manages to taunt through his first bout of giggles, doubling over when Y/N lets out the most offended scoff he's heard from her yet.

“Fuck you. It's not funny!” Y/N calls out from where she's sitting by the vanity, an array of hair equipment laid out on its surface.

Dabi attempts to tell her that, ‘No, it's not funny, it's fucking hilarious,’ through his giggles, but he's unsuccessful as his body is racked with another laugh every time he tries to get the words out.

“Dabi! Stop laughing and get over here!”

It takes him several minutes to finally stop laughing and make his way over to Y/N, towering over her and the mop on her head that's supposed to resemble hair. 

He almost starts laughing again.

“Okay. So, how exactly am I supposed to help?” He asks, watching as she stares back at him from the mirror.

“I don't know? Just—try something! I'm done struggling,” she answers, letting out an angry huff and folding her arms across her chest with a pout on her lips.

Cute, Dabi thinks, letting a smile graze his lips as he focuses his attention on her very frizzy, poofy hair. He runs an experimental hand through the (h/c) strands, pleased to find that it follows a smooth course.

“Good news,” he pipes up from behind Y/N. “There aren't any tangles, so I should be able to brush it down.”

“Hah,” she barks out a laugh. “What do you think I've been trying to do for the last hour of my life?”

Dabi rolls his eyes at her dramatics, holding a hand out in front of her. “Just hand me the brush,” he instructs, and the item is forcefully placed in his outstretched palm.

He takes his time running his hands through her hair and brushing through the (h/c) strands, admiring the way it has a certain shine to it when the dim lighting in the motel room hits it at just the right angle. Appreciating the way Y/N relaxes into his touch instead of flinching away from it like she did all those months ago when she initially joined the League.

Alas, even with all the gentle care and tedious brushing, Dabi has no luck taming this tumble dried Persian fur, and he lets out his own frustrated sigh.

“A valiant effort,” Y/N comments from her seat, taking the brush back and earning her a flick behind her ear from Dabi.

After a few moments of pondering, and a few moments of eyeing Y/N’s hair, he gets another idea. 

“Hand me the straightener,” Dabi orders, hand already held out and ready as he continues to study the frizzy hair in front of him.

While frizzy, yes, Y/N’s hair usually laid flat and straight when tamed. If he could just run the brush and the straightener through it, it should be fine. He's had plenty of practice helping Fuyumi straighten her hair, so he won't be going in blind.

“Hate to break it to you, Hot stuff, but there's no straightener here,” she says after a few seconds.

Dabi dips his head to scan the items on the vanity from over Y/N’s shoulder. There was a brush, hair ties, bobby pins, and a spray bottle with some whitish concoction in it all displayed on the surface of the vanity. No straightener, or curling iron, or even a hairdryer in sight.

“The fuck?” He scoffs. “What kind of motel doesn't even have a hairdryer?”

“This one, apparently,” Y/N answers unhelpfully, and Dabi shoots her a deadpan look that screams, ‘No shit, Sherlock.’

He straightens back out and paces back and forth in the room, mind going through ideas and other possible solutions. Surely there was something he could do, right? 

Out of habit, Dabi starts to snap his fingers. It's an action he started doing as a sort of stim, usually pairing it with a little heat from his quirk to ignite tiny blue sparks. It kind of reminds him of a sputtering lighter. Barely hanging onto life but still trying its very best.

After around the fifth spark, his skin starts to feel the heat building up, the healthy skin of his fingers able to feel the burn from his Quirk. Dabi stares down at his stitchworked palm, and it's then that he gets his brilliant idea on how to tame Y/N’s hair. 

He stops his pacing to stand behind her again, placing two warm hands on both her shoulders respectively, and catching her gaze in the vanity mirror.

“How much do you trust me?” He questions, earning him a quirked brow in return.

“Depends,” Y/N answers, skepticism shining through in her tone. “Why?”

“Just—I'm going to need you to trust me this once,” he says, removing one hand from her shoulders to ask for the brush.

Y/N’s eyes cycle between his hand, the brush, and his eyes, eventually signing herself over to fate with a pained sigh, and handing him the brush.

“Better not ruin my hair any further,” she mumbles, and Dabi snorts in return.

“Doon’t worry, Princess. Nothing I do can top the mess you made,” he teases, narrowly avoiding the hand that comes up to smack him.

“Enough chitchat. Get to it,” she orders, resuming her pouty pose from before.

“Mhm.”

And so, Dabi puts his plan into action, gripping the brush with his left hand and creating a peace sign with his right; he starts the familiar process that is straightening hair. Granted, it wasn't as familiar given he was doing it with his heated fingers instead of an actual straightener, but the motions were all still the same.

It takes a solid 30 seconds before Y/N starts to question Dabi’s actions.

“What are you doing back there?” She asks, trying to spot what he's doing in the mirror.

“Stop moving,” Dabi scolds off handedly, and Y/N stills with a frustrated huff.

He laughs at her childlike pout, moving onto the next section of hair. “If you keep squirming I might make a mistake,” he says a few seconds later, earning him a sideways glance from the mirror.

“Dabi. What are you doing?”

He has to fight back a chortle at her wariness, instead running the brush through the now-smooth section of hair.

“Don't worry your pretty little head,” he quips back, pleased when he earns another frustrated huff from Y/N.

He works in silence for just about 2 minutes before there's an audible gasp that has his heart doing a backflip straight out of his ass.

“Are you straightening my hair with your fucking Quirk!?” Y/N asks, affronted. Her eyes are practically bulging out of her head where she's caught sight of Dabi's fingers clamped down against her hair.

“Maybe,” he fires back, if only because he's never been able to give a straightforward answer in his life. Maybe also because he's a sadist and enjoys seeing the panic flashing through Y/N’s eyes.

“I swear to fucking—Dabi if you burn my hair off—” 

“Didn't I tell you to trust me?” He cuts her off, and she sputters weakly in protest. “It's been working so far, no?”

Y/N takes a moment to scan her head of hair, which now lays mostly flat against her scalp, save for the few sections Dabi still has left to straighten.

She pouts for the umpteenth time, unable to argue with the visible results. “Just don't burn what's left,” she mutters, wanting to get the last word.

Too bad for her, Dabi is a certified yapper, who always has something to say, and doesn't hesitate to say it, even when it's uncalled for. He always gets the last word.

“I won't burn your new job wig,” Dabi teases, referring back to his earlier statement about a clown profession.

“If you burn my hair, I will never steal you a chocolate bar ever again,” Y/N says, casting him a threatening glance in the mirror.

Dabi does not get the last word that time.

—

“All done,” Dabi says, running his hands through Y/N’s now-flat and straight hair one last time before allowing her to do it herself.

She makes a show of turning her head from side to side in the mirror, nodding slowly as she insepcts each part of her hair in close detail. Her contemplative hums fill the air, eyes narrowing in scrutiny.

“Hmm,” she hums a final time, straightening her back and flipping her hair over her shoulder. Her (e/c) gaze catches Dabi's in the mirror, and she has a large grin plastered on her face.

“Did I meet your demands, my lady?” Dabi questions with a teasing lilt in his voice, knowing Y/N wouldn't be mad at it this time around.

“You did,” she says, eyes softening at him with gratitude as she tilts her head to the side. “You even earned yourself a new title.”

Dabi chuckles. “Oh yeah? And what might that be?”

“You've upgraded from the term ‘favorite comrade’ to ‘personal portable hair straightener,’” Y/N says, eyes shining with mirth. “‘PPHS’ for short.”

He can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole situation, falling back on the edge of the bed behind him when his knees grow weak from the laughter and having stood for so long. 

“I was hoping to reach the term ‘boyfriend’ before all that,” Dabi shoots back before he can stop himself, words leaving his lips and spilling the feelings he's kept to himself for so long.

Y/N doesn't reply with the expected shocked words, ‘You like me?’ Instead, the grin still painting her face seems to double in size and she's sitting on Dabi's lap before he even has the chance to blink.

“Maybe I can tweak the term a bit,” she says, grin turning playful. “‘PPB & HS.’ Personal portable boyfriend and hair straightener.”

His hands find their way around her waist and he pulls her in closer, gazing up at her ever so slightly and beckoning her down in return. 

“I can live with that,” he replies, eyes subconsciously fluttering shut and face drifting closer to hers, the actions of a starved man whose appetite can only be satiated by one particular thing.

“Good,” Y/N whispers before her lips connect with his in a searing, passionate kiss that shows just how similarly starved she's been. It's warm, and pleasant, and so good. It's everything so opposite of the villains they present themselves to be.

And Dabi hasn't been able to feel this satisfied since Toya died on Sekoto Peak. He's only ever wanted to burn everything that reminded him of who he used to be. He still wants to burn his family, and the society that brought the pain upon him.

He wants to burn heroes and everything they hold dear. Hell, he wants to burn it all. The world and anything in his path to lessen this raging hatred inside of him.

But with the lips moving hungrily against his, and the hands running needily along his chest, clawing at his shirt and grazing the staples that hold together his skin, Dabi knows that there is one thing; one person in this fucked up world that he will never want to burn.

[moonstruckme]

Hello my love! I have a request for a quick little blurby with whoever you think it fits! Basically, the reader has an extensive skin care routine, but she’s sick so all she wants to do is lay bed, but the beautiful man is helping her do it because he knows how much it means to her! Am I projecting? Yes because I’m sick as a dog right now and I didn’t do my skin care routine at all but I just didn’t have the energy to 🥺💕

Hi honey! Hope you're feeling a bit better <3

This isn’t very relaxing lmao apologies, he’s doing his best. And maybe modern au? Because I didn’t feel like researching 80s skincare

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 814 words

“Shit,” Eddie hisses when you wince, pulling the washcloth away to kiss your eyelid. “Keep ‘em shut tight, baby, we don’t want this stuff getting in there.” 

“They are shut.” Your face pinches as he continues to scrub at your lashes with the washcloth. “I’m just not usually this rough with them, Eds. You’re going to tear out my eyelashes.” 

“Doing this?” He sounds dubious. “They can’t be very hardy, then.” 

“They’re not.” 

“Okay, okay.” He swipes the last of your mascara off a bit more delicately. “I can’t believe you went to work like this. I told you you were way too sick to go.” 

“I was fine this morning.” 

“You almost passed out pouring your cereal.” 

You open your eyes to stare him down, daring him with your whole face to push you. You’re way too exhausted for this. “I’m calling in tomorrow, okay?” 

“You bet you are, trouble.” 

You open your mouth to snipe at him, but Eddie swoops in for a kiss as he finishes with your makeup remover and you sink back into the mattress, nullified.

“What’s next?” he asks sweetly. “That watery shit?” 

“Toner, yeah. Thanks.” 

He makes a sound like you’re welcome, a bit of cheek to it. You decide it’s probably deserved, since you keep disparaging him while he’s doing you a favor. 

Eddie wets your washcloth with toner, passing it over your skin before reaching for your serum. You close your eyes as he brings the dropper just underneath them, like he’s seen you do a million times, and dribbles the glossy liquid onto your skin. He’s quick to chase it with his fingers, murmuring expletives under his breath as some of it drips onto your pillow before he can get it. You laugh, and he pinches your cheek meanly. 

“Stay still, or I’ll get it in your mouth.” 

You quickly smooth your face into expressionlessness, your poker face immaculate, and then Eddie laughs too. You open your eyes at the sound. 

Eddie’s eyes hover above yours, lashes kissing as he grins toothily. A few frizzy curls have escaped the ponytail he’s confined the rest in. They tickle your cheeks when he moves, using his finger to distribute some of the serum onto your chin. 

“You got it all over?” you ask him. Softly, like his proximity requires a hushed tone. 

Eddie's thumb digs into your chin fondly, his smile broadening. You can see his canines. “Yup. You’re all shined up, sweet thing. How long do you leave it for again?” 

“Until it dries.” 

“And how long’s that?” 

You shrug. “Ten, fifteen minutes. It doesn’t have to be all the way dry, just mostly.” 

He nods. You listen to the passing of cars outside, the beginnings of crickets as darkness falls. Eddie starts sweeping his thumb back and forth over your shoulder. 

“You look so fucking pretty,” he says quietly, “even though I know you’re the plague personified right now. How do you do that?” 

Try as you might to tamp it down, you can’t help the smile that spreads across your features. “Every night when you go to sleep,” you tell him, “I take a little bit of your hair and use it to brew a potion in the kitchen. I’m slowly stealing your beauty, bit by bit.” 

“Fucking knew it,” he growls, dipping his head to nip playfully at your neck. 

You yelp and set your hands on his shoulders, warning him breathlessly about getting his hair in your serum. 

“Fine,” he relents. “I know you’re full of shit anyway. You’ve been this killer since the day I met you.” He flashes a grin, canines and all. “And I only get more beautiful with time, so I know you’re not siphoning it off me. Nice try.” 

“You’ve got me there.” You smile back, but it’s a half-hearted effort. 

Eddie makes a low humming sound, thumb once again rubbing your shoulder. “You okay, baby? Your chest still hurting?” 

“No, it’s not as bad.” The words leave you in a thoughtless sigh, and Eddie frowns, bending over to press a chaste kiss to your sternum. The sweet gesture pushes up against the pressure already thick and uncomfortable in the back of your throat. “I’m just really tired,” you admit, and to your mortification the words come out with a teary edge. 

Eddie doesn’t seem to mind, only a flicker of concern passing over his face as his hand moves to cup the side of your head, stroking the baby hairs at your temple. 

“Hey, that’s okay. You can go to sleep, I’ll finish up here. S’just the moisturizer left, right?” You nod, swallowing, and he mirrors you. “I can handle that. Get some shut eye, sweet thing. I’ll take care of you.” 

You let your eyes close, the steady movement of Eddie’s thumb on your temple easing you towards slumber, because you know he will.

[teddyeyeseddie]

The Cherrywood Motel

Starry Haze, Crystal Ball

rockstar!Eddie x housekeeper!reader

masterlist

(a/n: ITS BACKKKK AND SO AM I!! Enjoy my lovelies and visit my blog for some life updates!)

warnings: soft eddie, smut, minors dni, oral (fem rec), p in v, cream pie x 2, riding, showering together, a jump from last chapter.

now playing:

You lug all your clothes into the laundromat down the street, heaving the heavy bag onto the table before you once you’ve made your way inside. The smell of bleach and laundry detergent mixes in your nostrils as you sort your piles of dirties.

It’s early in the morning, the only person in the place being you and an elderly woman. You enjoy the quiet, only the soft whirring of the dryers breaking the silence.

You separate your lights from darks, throwing your first load in when a familiar voice resonates through the quaint room.

“Shit- fuck,” you look over to see Eddie struggling with a bag of laundry. You chuckle to yourself, your eyes meeting his. His face lights up when he sees you.

“Hey stranger,” he breathes out as he settles in at the table next to you.

“Hi Eddie,”

Ever since Eddie woke up in your bed, things had been different. Eddie seemed happier, his demeanor not so jittery. You talked more, Eddie revealing more about his life.

You learned he was really a dork. Knows a little too much about horror movies, still plans D&D campaigns for fun, and collects mugs from every new place he goes.

He’s become softer, more himself in the last few days. You found yourself getting closer to him, his magnetic force drawing you in with every little conversation.

His captivating personality had you expressing more things about yourself, like your favorite flower, how you got the scar on your shoulder, and all about your childhood cat, Mr. Snuffles.

Talking to Eddie when he was sober was easy, he didn’t go on unnecessary tangents, he wasn’t as flirty and he looked oh so pretty when he was healthy.

His usual red eyes now pure, no sign of distress in them. He even started taking care of his hair, his usual frizzy locks now smooth and curly. He was doing better. You were proud of him.

“Didn’t think I’d be seeing you today,” he says, pulling out all of his clothes and settling them into a pile. He gathers them all in his arms, walking towards a washer.

“Aren’t you gonna sort them?” you ask, chuckling to yourself as Eddie struggles with the large amount of clothes he has in his hands.

“I never do?” he says as if it's almost a question.

“Well, I’m sure you have some 200 dollar shirts in there that are begging to be sorted,”

“My uh- lady at home usually does it. This is how I used to do laundry when I was a kid,”

You roll your eyes, motioning for him to come back to the table.

You sort his dirty clothes for him, it feels pathetic but the smile he has on his face as you help him makes it somewhat worth it.

“You’ve gotta sort lights from darks. I’d suggest separating your whites too but I don’t want you to keel over,”

He chuckles, grabbing the pile of darks and carrying them to a washer. He puts in his quarters, handing you some so you can start the pile of lights.

“So what are you up to for the rest of the day?” he questions as he strolls back to the tables where your clothes still lay.

“Nothing really, apartment hunting for a little bit and then back to the motel,” you gather your pile of clothes, turning towards the washers and placing the items inside. Eddie swoops in front of you and puts quarters in for you, you playfully roll your eyes but smile up at him nonetheless.

“Oooh, that should be fun,” he scratches at the back of his neck, “I uh- owe you for bailing me out so just let me know what you need for the security deposit and I’ll write a check,”

“Thank you Eddie, but you don’t have to. I lost your jacket, I bailed you out, were even,”

Eddie shakes his head, curls flying in all directions at the erratic movement.

“Someone stole my jacket from you, you didn’t just leave it for anyone to take. Plus I can,so let me,” he states, eyes locking with yours in a stare.

“Just let me, it’s the least I can do-” you nod your head, allowing the man to help you pay your way into a new apartment.

A feat that was easier said than done, you had looked at 5 separate places with Christa, none of them being anything close to what you wanted or needed.

You finally decide to call it quits and return back to the hotel, smiling when you see Eddie waiting outside your door with a pizza box in his hand. Christa sends you a wink as you get out of the car, a soft “enjoy yourself” falling from her lips.

Eddie grins widely when he sees you step out of Christa’s car.

“Sorry- thought you were home from your hunting,” he motions towards your car that is parked a few spots down from your door.

“Kinda got stuck at our last place. Creepy landlord,” you straighten out the pleats of your skirt as Eddie sucks in a breath in through his teeth, wincing dramatically.

“At least you dodged that bullet,” he says as he leans against the doorframe waiting for you to open it, his slim shoulders doing a good job at boxing you in. The smell of his cologne makes your mind whir, gone are the days of dried puke and alcohol.

You unlock the door, Eddie’s hand pushing it open forcing you to duck underneath his arm. He lets the door close softly behind him once he is inside, being sure to lock the deadbolt.

He places the pizza box on the small table by the window. He draws the curtains, blocking out the rest of the world and turning the room into a space that was only for the two of you.

“Got your favorite,” he motions to the box with his thumb as he walks up behind you. You’re stepping out of your shoes when Eddie’s arm snakes around your front, under your arm and resting on your collarbone. He’s come over every night since the cleaning fiasco, you talk about the ten-day-whirlwind that the two of you have embarked on and get to know eachother even more.

Eddie spends most of his time apologizing when you recall anything from the short time of knowing him, ashamed of how much he had hurt you.

It’s been a week of take-out, today bringing you to day seventeen. Ten days of hell and seven of something in between a raging fire and a rumbling earthquake- scalding your skin and shaking off the dust settled deep in your soul.

His arm comes undone from you, his hand tracing down your tricep, over your elbow, ghosting down your forearm, finally grasping your hand as he draws you towards the radio sitting in the corner of the room.

Eddie liked to dance- he twirled to what he called your “teeny bopper” music, he swayed his hips to country music, he even danced to his own music when you forced him to listen to it one night.

Eddie danced with you tonight- his fingers fit perfectly through yours, his hand rested right in the dip of your waist, his lips looked pretty in this light.

“Are you thinking about kissing me, sweets?” He questions, a smile forming on his lips as he leans forward. You blush nervously, nodding your head. His smile gets even wider before he leans in, lips capturing yours.

Both his hands come to cup your face, cheeks tugging and eyes crinkled as he leans in further. His other hand comes to rest on your hip, pushing backwards until your knees hit the back of the couch. You pull away, shifting from foot to foot as you wait for Eddie to take the reins. He chuckles softly before capturing your lips in another soft kiss before pulling away and plopping down onto the couch. He pulls you into his lap, kissing the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, all the way to your shoulder.

His eyes meet yours, his hands fumbling with the edge of your sweater. A plea on the edge of his lips as he looks up at you. You nod, letting him remove the garment from your body. He audibly moans at the sight, your breasts bouncing freely only leaving you in your skirt.

“Please tell me you have panties on,” he mumbles, hand snaking down to your center. He bites his lips and groans when he’s met with your sticky folds.

“S’ laundry day,” you giggle.

His fingers trace through your slick, he has half a mind to shove the fingers in your face, make you lick yourself off of him. But When he glances over your face, your pouting lips and furrowed brow send his heart racing. He decides right then that you're an angel. He thinks there’s no way you're real, there is absolutely no way you’re here with him.

He wraps his arm around your waist, standing from his place on the couch. He walks you back to the bed as you kiss up the side of his neck. He lands you on the middle, arms caging you in as he leans down to kiss you. He’s much slower this time, desperate clashing of teeth melting to well thought out movements.

You pull away from him, hands coming to mess with the edge of his old band tee.

“You’re much too dressed for the occasion, Mr. Munson,” you giggle out. He smiles down at you, getting up to strip out of his clothes. You hold your breath when he pulls down his boxers, his cock springing out and slapping against his belly. It’s big and you’re sure he knows it.

He crawls back up the bed, kissing from your ankle to your neck. He splays kisses across your face, finally meeting your lips in a sweet kiss.

His eyes bore into yours as he pushes some hair from your face before kissing you again, but he pulls away much too quickly for your liking.

“M’ gonna eat you out now, kay’?” he mumbles against your lips, you nod, throwing your head back as Eddie begins to kiss back down your body. He stops at the waistband of your skirt, mumbling something to himself before hooking his fingers in the band and pulling the fabric over your bottom.

He moans at the sight of your center, leaning forward to press a kiss to your thighs before diving in completely. He licks from your hole, up to your clit, tongue dancing around the bundle of nerves. Your knuckles grip the white sheets, mind reeling as he works you up to an orgasm. He laps at your pussy, pulling away to spit on his fingers.

His ringed fingers come to push through the sticky mess the two of you have created, one finally pushing in, drawing a guttural moan from your lips. The cold metal of his rings bump against your skin every time he thrusts his fingers in and out. He works you up to three before pulling them out completely, mouth still assaulting your clit, causing you to squeal.

“You ready f’me?” he questions, mouth still between your legs. You tug on his hair, pulling him away from your center, nodding profusely with a smile on your face.

He pushes you further up the bed, settling in between your legs. His cock nudges at your hole, the tip catching inside, you mewl quietly when he pushes in. He leans down, arms settling on either side of your head, his hair tickling your nose as he looks down at you intently.

“So pretty,” You mumble, hand coming up to cup his cheek and draw him into a kiss. He smiles into it, pulling away and admiring the way your face contorts every time he punches that spongy spot inside you.

“S’ all you, sweets,” He moans, forehead pressing against yours as he drives into you. The pace he sets draws moan after moan from deep within you.

Your hand stays cupping his face, kissing him again, your lips barely brushing his when he pulls away.

“C’mon pretty girl, tell me what it is. Wanna know what I should be moaning while I ruin you.”

You shutter a breath out- your name falling off your lips and into the air.

“F-fuck..” he’s full on smiling, his eyes crinkling as he languidly thrusts inside you.

“Eds-Eddie. M’ close,”

“Shit-ok. Where do you want me?” He picks up his pace, cock nudging at all the right places.

“Inside- want you inside,” Your legs lock around his waist, forcing him to bury himself to the hilt as he spills inside of you.

He’s giggling when you finally release him, pulling his still hard cock from inside you and smearing around the mess that has formed between your legs.

“Look so good painted all pretty for me. Could take a picture and look at it all tour long. Would never haveta’ look anywhere else. Just me this little memory and my hand,” he’s pulling your ass cheeks apart, releasing them before his thumb hooks into your pussy as he rummages around on the side table- careful not to knock down the countless polaroids around the camera.

“Can I sweets? Take a pretty little polaroid of this pretty little pussy?” he thrusts his thumb in further, drawing more cum out of you. You giggle when you feel it run down your thighs as you give him a soft hum in response to his question.

He snaps a picture of your most bare area, the idea makes you blush but then there's the idea of Eddie- using it. That makes it feel alright.

“Just wanna take one more,” he says as his cock nudges at your hole again, the puffy skin wanting to scream no but the burn short circuiting your brain at the same time.

He snaps another picture once he’s half inside you, your hands covering your face as you giggle.

“Enough of that,” he says with a small chuckle as he tosses the camera back onto the bedside table. His hands grip your hips as he lazily thrusts into you.

After finally having enough of Eddie’s teasing, you push at Eddie’s belly, signaling him to stop. He flashes you a confused look as he pulls out but soon gets the idea once you scramble off the bed and begin pushing him towards the couch.

He flops down onto the cushions, legs spreading wide. Deft fingers wrapping around your hips as you sink down onto him, your arms snake around his neck and pull at the hair sitting at the nape.

Eddie looks up at you in awe, his eyes never leaving yours as you ride him. His lips are parted, soft breaths and moans tumbling from his mouth.

“Shit- baby I- I can’t last like this-” He groans as he tries to stop your movements. You grab his hand, raising it and placing it on your breast.

“C’mon sweets, come in me again,” He moans sweetly at his own pet name being used against him, his hips stilling once he is settled inside you. He buries his head in your neck as he comes, teeth biting in as he silences himself.

You let him stay inside you for a while, finally pulling off of him when Eddie begins to rub at the skin on your hips.

You’re up on wobbly legs, shooting Eddie a glare when he begins to chuckle.

He throws his hands up in defense and motions to the mess between his legs. Cum has dripped down his balls and pooled in his seat.

“Gonna need to spot clean this one miss housekeeper,” He winces as he gets up, collecting you in his arms and placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Let’s shower, yeah?”

You nod, taking his hand as he guides you to the small porcelain tub. He turns on the water, testing it with his fingers before stepping in once it has warmed up. He extends his hand to you, thanking him quietly once you're standing before him in the tiny shower.

He takes a step back, moving out of the spray and allowing you to warm up under the water. You take turns getting your bodies warmed up, Eddie finally assuming his position behind you washing your hair.

“You mentioned tour,” you blush as you recall the memory from moments ago. Eddie’s stops scrubbing your scalp and sighs.

“I- I’m leaving,” he says in an almost whimper.

“Oh, when?”

“Two days,”

[vorfreudevortex]

a portrait of us - eight

a nanami x reader smau

masterlist

warnings: angst lol, slow burn, swearing, a little ooc, a typo or two

notes: ngl i am starting to hate this story but it's okay!! also I'm drunk but I'm posting this anyways idc. also - written portion - 1.3k words (?!!). i'm finding it impossible to not write long ass parts. also pls feel free to request or ask me anything bc i don't like this smau and need something to distract me in between writing it <3 love u bye

as the car pulled up to the museum’s front entrance, you shakily smoothed your hair and dress with one hand, the other clutching a crumpled sheet of paper with your speech.

you couldn’t decide which was more pitiful. the frizzy flyaways escaping your hastily curled hair? or the piece of stationary, painstakingly flattened but still creased, one of the thirty-two drafts you’d written, retrieved reluctantly from the hotel floor?

the driver parked as an attendant opened the door, offering a hand to help you out. the museum director approached with a reassuring smile, and a suit probably worth more than thirty of your paintings combined.

the driver parked an attendant opened the car door and offered you a hand to help you out. the director approached you with a comforting smile and a suit that probably cost more than 30 of your paintings combined.

“welcome! how are you feeling?”

“to be honest,” you replied with a nervous smile. "I'm terribly anxious.”

he chuckled, holding the front door open for you. “that’s perfectly natural. don’t worry! the patrons will love you and your work. anyone would be foolish not to.”

“thank you, director…” you murmured, his words doing little to calm your trembling hands.

the head assistant joined your walk to the gallery hall, peppering you with one question after another.

“the catering service has just finished setting up. would you please take a final sample of the gyoza and ohitashi? they don’t look quite the same as they did during the original tasting…”

“we have a very important guest from malaysia… would you like me to introduce you two when she arrives? it would be a shame if you didn’t at least find time to say hello…”

“are you absolutely certain about the painting for the final reveal? i know you said it’s special to you but the other assistants and i agreed that the other one would-”

“alright, that’s enough questions,” the director interjected as you neared the gallery hall. you let out a small breath of relief. you thought you might burst if another word came out of the assistant’s mouth. “please go make sure the waiters have the champagne chilled and poured.”

“thank you,” you whispered to the director as the assistant walked away.

“please, don’t thank me. they can be so overbearing. sometimes, it’s better to just let things flow as life means them to,” he replied with a smile.

“yeah…” you replied, glancing at your paintings, their eyes seemingly judging you.

“i can see you’re terrified, and that’s okay. you’ve never done this on such a big stage before!” he laughed. “but truly, it’s not all that different than a smaller exhibition.”

“i don’t think i deserve to be here.”

“if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be.”

you looked at the director, letting his words calm your nerves a bit. your gaze wandered to one of your paintings, a vibrant reinterpretation of jeanne: spring by édouard manet, now alive with bold reds and yellows. 

it was both different and familiar, evoking nostalgia even in those who knew the original. the abstract strokes depicted a striking dark-skinned woman you had met in the park, with bright orange braids cascading down to her waist, her skin glowing against the polka-dotted umbrella she carried.

upon meeting her, you had eagerly asked to paint her, offering what little savings you had left in return. she had given you a sideways smile and agreed, letting you capture her portrait for free.

over the next week, you posed her in your small apartment, finding moments between both of your busy schedules. when you finally showed her the finished piece, she grinned again and said, “oh sweetie, you’re gonna be big one day.”

though she couldn’t be here in tokyo, her spirit was with you, embodied in the painting with that sideways smile even the umbrella couldn’t overshadow.

"onee-san!"

your attention shifted from the painting to the other side of the room, where a group was led by itadori yuji and his toothy grin.

"itadori-kun!"

“and me! hello?” satoru added playfully.

“of course, you too,” you smiled. “thank you for coming, i'm so thrilled you’re here. you all look amazing!”

“no, you look amazing. and i wouldn’t miss this for the world,” satoru said, hugging you. "onee-san, i want you to meet all my students!”

as he finished introducing you to the first and second years, a warm hand rested on your shoulder. you turned to see an old classmate, now with long hair and a familiar pair of boots.

“shoko ieri, take my shoes off right now!” you laughed, throwing your arms around her.

“um, no way. you never even wore them when you had them,” she teased.

shoko's expression softened as she noticed the tears welling in your eyes. she looked just the same, but you couldn’t help noticing the worry lines between her brown, evident even with her smile.

“i didn’t think i'd see you again,” she said quietly.

“me neither… i'm so-”

“-stop talking,” she interrupted. “we brought gifts for you!”

you let go of shoko while yuji held out a large bouquet of blue and pink daisies.

“oh, stop it!” you exclaimed, taking the flowers. “they’re beautiful. thank you all so much!”

“we’re not done yet! there’s more,” satoru said slyly, holding out a small black box.

your heart nearly stopped when you pried the lid open to reveal a large pearl pendant on a gold chain.

“you-”

“-there’s more. look under the velvet,” shoko urged. you carefully lifted the padding to reveal a check with the note “a commission for the staff and students” made out for…

“ten million fucking yen?!”

“whoa, language!” satoru laughed. “kids, go run and play or something.”

“shoko, did you know about this?” you panicked as the students filed away with quiet giggles. “i seriously can’t accept this!”

“yes, you will,” shoko retorted, crossing her arms.

“a commission for what?”

“girl, did you even read the check?” satoru huffed playfully. “you’re gonna paint a portrait of the staff and students at jujutsu high. and hopefully, instead of ignoring us, it’ll cover a plane ticket back so you can visit us next year.”

tears welled up in your eyes again, spilling down your cheeks.

“no. seriously. i-no! i can’t accept this! this is an insane amount of money for a commission like that. i'll paint for you guys for free. and you’ll return this necklace because i know you spent too much money on it, too.”

“stop talking and just accept the gift,” shoko urged.

“but i don’t deserve it.”

“now you’re just spouting nonsense,” satoru said as he placed a hand on your shoulder and turned you toward the gallery entrance. he pointed at the large banner bearing your gallery information. “what does that banner say?”

“it says my name,” you sniffled, still clutching the flowers and box.

“no, idiot. i'm talking about the quotes.”

“um…” you blinked away tears. “someone truly exceptional…?”

“and?”

“a modern-day van gogh…?”

“one more.”

“art that every being should hope to be privileged enough to experience.”

“good job, you can read!” satoru smiled, giving your shoulders a slight shake. “some snobby rich art critics said that about you. now, stop feeling fucking sorry for yourself and make sure everyone has their attention on you tonight.”

“and deposit the check when you get home,” shoko added.

“yes, please deposit the check,” satoru agreed. “if you lose it, i'll be pissed.”

you wrapped your arms around satoru and shoko, squeezing tight in tearful appreciation. they had no idea… the check would cover over a year’s worth of rent, premium canvases, all fine-haired brushes you could ever want, and even a payment on a car. you swore to yourself that you’d pour your soul into painting them a fucking masterpiece.

“now let go,” satoru said, pushing you away. “and go impress all these high-class art people.”

“okay, okay, i'm going!” you smiled with a sniffle.

wiping your tears away, you waved at your classmates as you walked further into the gallery to greet the small crowd that had arrived. sometime during your conversation, your hands must have stopped trembling.

“you’re gonna be just fine,” you thought to yourself with a grin.

next: part nine

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