#i love playing with my friends hair and i love it when they play with mine

[unknownsvoid]

YOU JEALOUS?

✮⋆˙ | asked by: anonymous.

✮⋆˙ | featuring: isagi yoichi, meguru bachira, hyoma chigiri, reo mikage, nagi seishiro, rin itoshi

✮⋆˙ | cw: crack/fluff themes! fem!reader. possible spelling mistakes though i did proof read

Isagi Yoichi!

Definitely veryyyy vocal about it. (Of course he is, it's slursagi we're talking about). Like if he ever catches a guy flirting with you, he's gonna make it obvious the two of you are dating. Like this one time, this random dude was flirting with you in public while Isagi was roaming about in the shop you guys were at. So when he came back, he was caught off guard when he saw some guy trying to shoot his shot with you. His hand clenches harshly around the things he was holding, and he quickly makes his way over to the two of you. A hand snaked around your waist, and he brung you closer to him, making sure your back pressed against his chest, "Hey, babe. Who's this? A friend, perhaps? Hope so, though, kinda seemed like he was hitting on you?" He pulls his gaze away from you to the guy in front of him, "You wouldn't be the typa guy to hit on other people's girls, right?' There was a clear emphasis on the word babe, and he sure wasn't holding back on his words. But of course he wouldn't, he wanted to let the guy know that you're his, and his only. The guy, obviously shaken up, apologized before leaving the two of you alone. Isagi stares disapprovingly at him as he walks away before focusing back on you. He leans down and kisses you, "That guy could never take you away from me, right?" You laugh at his stupidity and shake your head, "He could never."

Meguru Bachira!

Definitely gets super annoyed, and I can see him purposefully interrupting the conversation between you and the guy in like a super rude way. For example: You two were at the park, and he saw an ice-cream truck so he left you on your own at the bench to go buy the two of you some, but when he came back, he was caught by surprise to see a random stranger hitting on you. A frown immediately forms on his face, and without a second thought, he makes it over to you guys. He interrupts the guy to give you a kiss on the lips and handing over your ice-cream, which you quietly thank him for. The guy freezes on the spot, but still makes an attempt to flirt with you ‐ but Bachira wasn't having it. He interrupted him again, "Hey, honey, I love your hair today." You focus on Bachira again, smiling at his compliment, and again, completely ignoring the man in front of you to focus on your sweet boyfriend. The guy grits his teeth, which makes Bachira cheer internally, but the stranger wouldn't give up and makes a few more attempts to flirt with you, which Bachira interrupts each and every time to compliment you. Soon enough, the man gives up with a groan and grumbles under his breath, "Assholes…" You give the guy a dirty look and look over at Bachira in confusion, "Geez, what was his problem?" Bachira shrugs and smiles at you, "No idea. Let's just eat our ice-creams before they melt."

Hyoma Chigiri!

Now, I'm not exactly too sure how he'll react if he saw a guy flirting with you. I'm sure he'll definitely, one, give sarcasm 'n attitude or, two, play it as if he doesn't care. For funsies, I'll pick the first option! The two of you were at the mall date after going out for a date. The two of you were giggling and stuff before a random guy walks up to the two of you with a cocky smirk on his face, "Mind if I borrow you for a moment? Surely your friend won't mind, would she?" You and Chigiri give each other a look before turning to the guy, and just when you were about to defend your feminine-looking boyfriend after he's just been misgendered along with being forced to watch you being hit on, he speaks up for himself, "No the fuck you cannot borrow my girlfriend because we are dating. I'm her boyfriend." The guy chuckles and throws his hands up in the air, "Shitttt, man. Would've never guessed you were a dude. Aight, my bad. I'll leave." Chigiri gives the guy the most DIRTIEST look ever that has you snickering under your breath, and what he says made you laugh out loud, "Yeah, you should. Not like she'll leave my gorgeous face and hair for your bald-headed ass. Buzzcuts don't suit guys with humongous heads by the way." The guy immediately stops smiling and tsk's his teeth before leaving, mumbling something under his breath the two of you can't really make up. "What a dickhead," You try to reply but you were cut off from your own laughter. Chigiri looks at you and snickers, "What?" "Did him so dirty, 'Giri." "The truth hurts. What can I say?" He shrugs before joining you. The both of you giggling like two school girls.

Reo Mikage!

Definitely brags and shows off his money or shows off in the MEANEST way possible to put the person flirting with you to fucking shame. Both of you at the jewellery shop that he forced you to because he wanted to buy you some stuff as a treat. Like he doesn't do that nearly every single time the two of you go out. You were browsing around, and Reo was doing the same thing on the other side of the store. Your attention was grabbed by a guy trying to hit on you. Reo grabbed a piece of jewellery that he thought would look super pretty on you, and just when he turns around to look for you, his smile dropped. A guy was flirting with you, and he couldn't have that. He walks up to the two of you, and your focus goes back to your purple-haired boyfriend. "Hey, Reo!!" "Hey, babe." He looks over at the guy with a glare, "Who's this?" You shrug, and Reo grits his teeth. His eyes go back to you and show you the necklace he picked out for you. Your eye widens at the pretty piece of jewellery, and then the price tag, which makes you wince, "Babe, this is like... super expensive." Reo shrugs nonchalantly, "Nothing I can't afford, honey. Hey, how about you pick something else along with that? Hell, pick a bunch of things. No limits. Go crazy." You were about to object, only for him to gently push you forward to look around the store. You couldn't protest with him – you knew it would be pointless, so you did as he said. He looks back at the guy, "Fuck off. Not like your broke ass could even fend for her anyway. You look like a bum from the streets." The guy didn't even fight back, clearly insulted and hurt, so they just left. Little did Reo know, you heard the whole thing, and boy did it make you laugh at his shocked face when you randomly mentioned the whole situation later on.

Nagi Seishiro!

I can picture him being super lazy and nonchalant about it, but you can tell he's jealous. Like definitely gets super clingy with you to prove a point or wtv. Both of you finished watching a movie, and he was bursting for a piss – so the the two of you headed over to the bathrooms. You waited for him outside while chilling on your phone, when suddenly, a guy attracted your attention. He begins trying to shoot his shot with you, interrupting you whenever you tried to speak to try and reject him. Nagi walks out of the men's bathroom and notices the two of you. A soft, annoyed expression was on his face before it quickly faded into his normal, tired one. He walks up to you and wraps his hands around your waist and buries his face into your neck, yawning into it. You pull your eyes away from the annoying stranger to your boyfriend, "Sleepy, sweetheart?" He nods, "Wanna go home, but you're talking to your friend..." You roll your eyes, "He's not my friend. Just some annoying guy tryna hit on me. Let's go." Nagi groans as you grab his hand and practically drag him on his feet to leave the cinema and the guy standing by himself, dumbstruck.

Rin Itoshi!

Kinda like a mix of Chigiri and Nagi. He would play it off like he wouldn't care and pretend to be all nonchalant about it, but totally fails and gives a tad bit of sass you didn't even know he had in him. The two of you were in a games shop. He was searching for a new horror game that came out recently and was hoping he'd find it in there. He decided to look for it on the other side of the store while you helped look around on the other. You were surprised by a man's voice asking you if you played any games you were looking at, and you replied, and the two of you were beginning to have, of what you thought, was an innocent conversation till he started hitting on you, and that's when Rin sees. He glances at the two of you, anger and jealousy evident in his eyes but it's difficult to tell because of how blank-faced he is. He trails up to the two of you and wraps a hand around your shoulder, "Found the game. Let's go to the checkout." He stops talking to stare at the guy, "Or do you need a couple more minutes to flirt with my girlfriend?" The guy freezes on the spot and smiles sheepishly. He apologies before leaving and Rin's jaw only unclenches as soon as the guy leaves the shop, "Lopsided asshole..." You laugh, "Awwe, you were jealous?" Rin gives you the biggest side eye ever, but the blush on his cheeks gave everything away, "Let's just go buy the game." he mutters under his breath, completely avoiding the question.

[chipstatoest]

✧･ﾟWhere the Track Begins (Part 2)

Oscar Piastri x Reader - 1.2k - childhood friends to lovers

Summary: The first time you met Oscar Piastri, he beat you in a go-kart race and called you slow. The second time, he gave you an orange ice pop and made you believe in impossible things. Years later, he’s in Formula 1—and you’re still in Melbourne. But when an unexpected message arrives, inviting you to Silverstone, you wonder if maybe, just maybe, he never really left.

part one

warning: slow burn, fluff, mutual pining, unresolved feelings, soft tension, oscar being very much in love but not saying it (yet).

═════════🏁═════════

The first thing you noticed was the air.

Silverstone air smelled different.

Not like Melbourne’s salt and sun and eucalyptus, but like engines warming, like rubber heating, like something electric was permanently pulsing under your feet. The sounds were sharper, too— buzzing golf carts, voices in accents from every corner of the world, the steady hum of energy that seemed to coil tighter with every passing minute.

You clutched your paddock pass, fingers unconsciously running over the embossed lettering.

Your name. His invitation.

Your heart hadn’t stopped fluttering since you boarded the plane. And now, standing just outside the McLaren hospitality suite, you wondered if this had all been a mistake. What if too much time had passed? What if he wasn’t the same boy who handed you orange ice pops and made impossible promises on sunburned afternoons?

But then you saw him.

Oscar.

He stood a few meters away, deep in conversation with one of the engineers, headset resting around his neck. His back was to you at first, but even then you recognized him instantly— the way his stance was slightly off-center, weight balanced on his left leg like always, his hair a little longer than you remembered, his posture now touched by the quiet confidence of someone who had learned to carry the weight of his own ambition.

And then he turned.

Your breath caught.

His eyes found yours in an instant— like he’d been scanning for you even before you arrived. For a second, everything around you dimmed: the paddock noise, the photographers, the crew rushing past. It was just you and him, suspended somewhere between who you were and who you had become.

A slow smile spread across his face— not the polished smile you’d seen in interviews, but the familiar one. The one that always reached his eyes. The one that made him look like your Oscar again.

“There you are,” he said, walking toward you, voice softer than the chaos around you.

And before you could fully process it, his arms were around you. Not the brief, careful hug you were expecting — but a real one. Warm. Familiar. Steady. His hand settled at the small of your back like muscle memory.

You hadn’t realized how much you missed him until this exact moment.

“You made it,” he murmured near your ear.

“You invited me.”

He pulled back slightly, enough to see your face, but not far enough to break the closeness. “Didn’t think you’d actually say yes.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you smiled. “You literally bribed me with an all-access pass.”

He chuckled, releasing you but letting his hand linger for just a second longer than necessary. “Well, I had to play my best card.”

For a few seconds, neither of you said anything. It was like standing on the edge of something neither of you were brave enough to name yet. The gap between childhood and now. Between friendship and whatever this was turning into.

“You look different,” you said finally, voice quiet.

“Yeah?” He tilted his head slightly. “Good different or bad different?”

You smiled. “Good different. You look like you belong here.”

His expression softened, but there was a flicker of something unspoken behind his eyes. “I’ve missed having you around.”

You wanted to say it back. You wanted to say so much more. But the words stuck in your throat.

Instead, you fell into the comfort of old patterns. Teasing. Deflecting.

“Careful, Piastri. That almost sounded emotional.”

He laughed, and it was the same laugh you remembered.

The one that always felt like home.

✧･ﾟ

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur.

Oscar gave you a personal tour of the paddock, introducing you to mechanics, engineers, even a few other drivers. The weight of his hand occasionally brushing your lower back as he guided you through tight spaces made your stomach flip every time.

People looked. Whispered. Wondered who you were.

But you barely noticed.

You were too busy stealing glances at him when he wasn’t looking— at the way his brow furrowed during briefings, at the way his fingers tapped his thigh when he was restless, at the way his smile lit up when someone congratulated him on his last race.

And sometimes, when you glanced over, you caught him watching you too— like he couldn’t quite believe you were actually standing there.

The distance between you hadn’t disappeared completely. Not yet. But for the first time in years, it felt like you were both reaching across it.

And that was something.

✧･ﾟ

Later that evening, you found yourself standing near the edge of the paddock as the sun dipped low, casting long, golden shadows across the tarmac. Oscar appeared beside you quietly, hands shoved into his jacket pockets.

“Walk with me?” he asked.

You nodded, and the two of you slipped away from the fading crowds, finding an empty stretch where the buzz of the paddock softened.

The silence between you was different now— heavier, but not uncomfortable.

“I was nervous, you know,” he said after a while.

You looked up at him, surprised. “Nervous? You?”

He smiled faintly. “Yeah. Asking you to come here. After all this time.”

Your chest tightened. “Why?”

He glanced sideways at you, voice lower now. “Because I wasn’t sure if you’d still want to be part of this world… part of my world.”

You stopped walking.

“Oscar.”

He stopped too, turning to face you fully.

“I never left your world,” you said softly. “You just… went ahead.”

He exhaled like he’d been holding that breath for a long time. His gaze dropped to your hand briefly before meeting your eyes again.

“Then maybe it’s time I finally catch you up.”

Your heart was hammering now, and you didn’t trust yourself to speak. So you just smiled, and nodded.

As the sun disappeared entirely, leaving only the glow of paddock lights behind you, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was where everything began to change.

Maybe it already had.

═════════🏎️═════════

✧ Author’s Note: Hey! This is my first time posting something like this on here, so please go easy on me. I’m still figuring things out, especially with this kind of story. Thank you so much for reading, I really appreciate you being here! Maybe more imagines to come— who knows? Possibly part three <3

[lucy-literates]

hi i’m not sure if you’re taking requests but if you are you can do this for either charles or arthur but i know july 17th is a pretty hard day for them because of jules but how would if even of them feel if they had a gf whose birthday was on july 17th? again if you’re not taking requests you can ignore this i also do love your fics they’re amazing

A/N: Oh anon, this is so sweet and sore at the same time. I went for the sweeter side of it, we don't need any more angst on an already sad day. I hope you enjoy it! Inbox is open 🫶

Bittersweet

\You never liked making a big deal out of your birthday — not really. But this year, it wasn’t because of modesty or discomfort.

It was because of the date: July 17th.

You hadn’t thought much of it until you started dating Charles. Until you found out what that day meant to him. The kind of scar it left behind.

Jules Bianchi. The friend who was more than family. The one Charles idolized, who he lost far too young. Every interview, every documentary, every quiet moment Charles shared about him — they all painted a picture of someone unforgettable. A light gone too soon.

So when you realized that your birthday fell on the same day Jules passed… your heart sank.

You’d never admit it out loud, but part of you wished you could move the day. Skip it. Fade into the background and let Charles have the space he needed to grieve without the added pressure of trying to celebrate you.

So when he asked, a few days before, what you wanted to do for your birthday, you just smiled softly and said, “Nothing big. I’m happy just spending it with you. We can lay low.”

He had nodded. “Of course, amour. Whatever you want.”

You’d meant it. And yet…

The morning of July 17th

You wake to the smell of coffee. The Monaco sunlight spills through the half-drawn curtains, golden and gentle. You stretch under the covers, still drowsy, expecting to roll over and find Charles lying beside you, half-asleep, maybe curled up in that way he does when the world feels too heavy.

But the bed beside you is empty — still warm, but no Charles.

Before you can call out, the door opens.

He walks in carefully, shirtless, hair messy from sleep, holding a tray with two mugs, a small pastry plate, and a single white tulip laid delicately across a napkin.

Your heart squeezes.

“Happy birthday, mon amour,” he says quietly, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I made you breakfast.”

You sit up slowly, blinking at him. “Charles…”

“I know,” he says, placing the tray on your lap gently. “You were worried. I could see it.”

You look down, a bit ashamed. “It didn’t feel right to celebrate. Not today.”

He sits beside you, reaching out to take your hand in his.

“For a long time, I hated this day,” he says softly. “I would wake up with a weight on my chest. Every July 17th felt like… the world reminding me of what I lost.”

You squeeze his hand. “I don’t want to take any of that space away from you.”

He shakes his head. “You’re not taking anything from me. You’re giving me something.”

You glance up, confused.

“Light,” he says simply. “Hope. A reason to smile on a day that used to only hurt.”

Your throat tightens.

“I still miss him. Every day. I always will.” He reaches for your cheek, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “But I think… I think Jules would have wanted me to feel love on this day. To not let grief take everything.”

Tears prick your eyes.

“He was love,” Charles whispers. “And now, so are you.”

You don’t speak. You just lean forward and kiss him, soft and slow, grateful and aching. He kisses you back like it’s the only thing that matters — like love can hold the weight of memory and joy at the same time.

And maybe it can.

The rest of the day is quiet.

He takes you for a walk through Monaco’s quieter corners, avoiding the usual crowds and flashing cameras. There’s no big party, no extravagant display — just small, sweet moments.

Hand-in-hand on the cobbled streets. Fresh fruit from the market. Laughter as he insists on carrying everything, even your handbag.

You pause at a small garden tucked behind a stone church — one Charles says Jules used to love. He lights a candle there.

You watch him in silence, letting him have that moment.

Then he turns and looks at you, eyes shining, and reaches for your hand again.

And you think: This is what love looks like. This is how grief grows softer.

That evening

He makes dinner. (Okay — he tries. It’s mostly you guiding him through pasta sauce instructions while he pouts over a slightly burnt garlic bread.)

And after dinner, you find a small cake waiting on the kitchen bench.

Not store-bought. Not perfect. But homemade. From scratch.

Your eyes go wide. “Did you—?”

He shrugs. “It’s not beautiful. But I wanted it to be from me.”

It’s perfect.

You blow out the candle. One flame, one wish, and Charles kisses your cheek just as the wax melts into the frosting.

Later, wrapped in blankets on the couch, his head resting on your shoulder, Charles whispers:

“Do you know what I thought when I realized your birthday was today?”

You turn slightly, brushing your fingers through his hair. “What?”

“I thought maybe… it was the universe’s way of giving something back. I lost someone I loved on this day. But then I found you.” His voice cracks. “It’s not a replacement. Nothing ever could be. But… it’s healing. Having you.”

Tears blur your vision.

“I hope it’s not ruined for you,” he adds quickly. “Your birthday.”

You shake your head. “Not ruined. Never. It’s… it’s bittersweet. But beautiful.”

He presses a kiss to your collarbone. “Then I’ll make it beautiful every year.”

And he does. Every July 17th after that holds both light and shadow. A memory, a flame, and a love that never tries to erase what came before — only to soften it.

Tag List

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https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-BLpv0xQYd1bTlaP7l1gAg8AgCyLE_yvrtljpCzlJhY/edit?usp=sharing

[rafessecret]

──── ⋆.˚ ❛ how could I love you after that? but i did, i did. ❜

༉‧₊˚. BSF!RAFE . . . PRECIOUS!READER

── ˙ ̟ ೕ !! ꣑୧ a rafe cameron au

── ˙ ̟ ೕ !! she paints his knuckles with bandaids like it’s an art. gentle hands, soft frown, quiet “what happened this time, rafe?” he never answers. just watches her face, memorises the tilt of her head. she kisses the bruise on his cheek like it’s a normal thing to do between friends. and maybe it is, for them. he leans into her touch like it’s home. “you’re too good for me.” she shushes him, doesn’t meet his eyes. it’s the only lie she tells him.

── ˙ ̟ ೕ !! they cuddle like it’s nothing. her legs over his, his hand in her hair, both pretending this isn’t everything. he plays with her fingers absently, tells her things no one else knows. about his mom, about the dark stuff. she listens like it matters—like he matters. and when she falls asleep like that, curled into his side, he stays awake just to look at her. eyes all glassy. chest aching. how the fuck did he ever live without her?

── ˙ ̟ ೕ !! he calls when he’s too drunk to think. voice rough, almost childlike. “where are you, angel?” she never says no. gets out of bed, throws a hoodie on, drives through the dark like she’s running on instinct. when she finds him, he’s a mess. blood on his shirt, fists clenched, shaking. she cups his face and says, “let’s go home.” she never says my place. it’s just home. theirs. whatever the fuck that means.

── ˙ ̟ ೕ !! everyone thinks they’ve hooked up. the way he always touches her, the way she melts around him. they haven’t. not really. but rafe knows the sound she makes when she cries. she knows he grinds his teeth when he’s trying not to cry. there’s something worse about loving each other like this. quiet, unsaid. she wears his hoodie, he kisses her wrist when he’s anxious. it’s more than friends. but they never talk about it. maybe because they’re scared it’d ruin everything.

── ˙ ̟ ೕ !! rafe swears she’s not his. not like that. but then he sees her with someone else, some guy making her laugh, and his chest goes tight. he drinks too much, picks a fight he shouldn’t, disappears for hours. when she finds him, soaked and scraped, he’s leaning on her before she even says his name. “you’re mine, right?” voice small. she doesn’t answer, just holds him like she’s never letting go. that’s all he needs. she always says it without words.

[firelilyfox]

Flirty Soldier

Pairing: 40s!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: You are a dancer at the Captain America Tour. Bucky admires you from afar until one night the finally invites you to a date.

Wordcount: idk but short :)

Warnings: heavy flirting. dancing with Bucky. kissing. touching. and physical violence (against a third person don’t worry)

Authors note: can we take a quick moment and look at that Bucky Gif?! It’s by far my favourite!Isn’t he just the cutest?! 🥹💙

———————————

Dancing on a stage in front of two hundred roaring men, felt not as fun as it sounds.

Dirty faces, distorted with arrogant smiles and filthy hands making disgusting gestures, were now part of your everyday life.

“Isn’t it glamorous to be one of Cap’s Girls?” a woman your age asked from the side. She wore the same uniform as you did: a short dress in the colours of the U.S flag and elegant dancing shoes with a heel.

You nod half-hearted. “Yeah. I never felt more glamorous in my entire life.”

Her big, naive smile made it clear that she didn’t understood your sarcasm. But you couldn’t judge her for that. This job was a good opportunity for young girls to see other places, earn some money and maybe find a husband.

You on the other hand were only here because you wanted to get away from your abusive home. From a father that hit you and a mother that loved a good whiskey more than her own daughter.

So maybe this was glamorous after all.

“Good evening, ma’am.” It was Steve Rogers alias Captain America who stepped in front of you and the naive girl with a playful salute.

“Oh hello Captain!” The girl did a salute back. “How may we help you?”

“I wanted to thank you personally for you performances this far. It is always a pleasure working with you. And I wanted to invite you two to a drink later.”

The sounded like he had studied this words, but you couldn’t focus on the US Golden Boy any longer because your attention was caught by another soldier standing beside him.

He was drop dead handsome. With his bright, blue eyes and dark, wild hair he looked like a prince people wrote books about. Suddenly your heart made funny things and when he crooked a shy smile, you couldn’t resist but return it.

“Is this like a double date?” The girl asked - you put asking for her name on your mental list.

“Indeed, ma’am. My friend James and I would like to invite you.” Cap pat the shoulder of the handsome soldier.

“James it is?” You reached out your hand and the soldier instantly took it in his, just to print a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“You can call me Bucky, doll.”

Your cheeks turned pink. “Looks like you already have a name for me.”

His eyes widened. “Oh my apologies, ma’am. I didn’t want to …”

“I like it.” You said and turned around to follow the other girl. “See you later, Bucky.”

~A few drinks later~

He was a shameless flirt. Bucky spend the whole evening looking for every opportunity to be close to you, never letting you out of sight. He even pressed a kiss on your cheek because he thought nobody was watching. And you enjoyed every minute of it. He was the perfect gentleman mixed with a mysterious grin.

“Would you like to dance with me, doll?” He reached out for your hand. His warm touch was electrifying.

“I thought you would never ask.”

A slow jazz song was playing and the dance floor filled with couples. You laid one hand on his shoulder, while Bucky pulled you closer with one hand on your back.

“So wich idea was it?” You asked with a lowered voice, so only Bucky would hear you.

His chin brushed over your cheek as he turned his head slightly. “What do you mean?”

You chuckled. “I mean, did Steve over there wanted to invite us or … was it your idea?”

Bucky leaned back without letting you go. His blue eyes reflected the sparkling light of the candles around you. A hint of mischief showed in them as he smiled down to you.

“You are a smart girl. What do you think?”

You squeak when he swirled you around. As a reaction you hold on tighter on his strong arms. “I think I never saw you in the crowd making these … rather offending comments about the girls. But I remember seeing you walk around backstage a lot. You seemed quiet but never creepy.”

Bucky huffed a smile. “I’m glad you think that I’m not creepy.”

“I think”, you continued. “I think it was your idea to invite us. But I would like to know, why?” You gave him a sweet and innocent smile.

Bucky bit down on his bottom lip, watching you teasing him with a heated look on his face. “Can’t you answer that question for yourself?”

“I would like to hear it from you.”

His grip around your waist just got a little tighter and as an answer to that your heart started to flutter.

“You were on my mind for quite a while now. Seeing you on stage, dancing like you don’t care about anyone else. And off stage, being such a beautiful but rarely seen face.” Bucky raised his hand to gently cup your cheek. “I wanted to talk to you for a while now but somehow you managed to disappear as soon as you leave the stage.”

“Lucky for you I don’t want to leave anytime soon tonight.” You mumbled. Your mouth went dry and your throat was all tighten up. It was impossible to play it cool, when Bucky looked at you the way he does now.

He looked like he wanted to kiss you. And your thoughts were just screaming for him to do it.

Then someone grabbed your arm painfully.

“My turn now, Barnes.” A dirty man made an effort to pull you away from Bucky. His smile was suggestive and his eyes were only focused on your breasts. You immediately felt dirty and uncomfortable.

“Back off, Jackson.” Bucky thundered with a warning tone in his voice. “Let the lady go. I won’t ask twice.” He stepped between you and the man to protect you from his greedy fingers. Bucky was tall and had a strong frame to hide away behind.

The man - Jackson, laughed loud. “A lady? Pah, this is not a lady. She is just dancing eye candy. A slut in a nice dress.”

A fist met the face of the man and Bucky grabbed the man by the throat to plant another punch.

“You better apologise to her for that or I will make sure that not even your mother can recognise your face, after I’m done with you.” Bucky was not joking. The low warning in his words traveled right into the man’s bones and made him shiver.

“I-I I want to formerly apologise, Madame. Please f-forgive me and my outrageous assumptions.”

Bucky looked over his shoulder, still holding the shivering man by his throat. He waited for your approval. You nodded once.

After the pig of a man trembled out of the bar, the music started playing again and the other guests minded their own business again.

“Are you alright, doll?” Bucky asked concerned and cupped your face to search for something alarming in your face. But instead of that you started to smile.

“You just defended my honor.”

Bucky crooked a smile. “You made it sound like I was a knight in shining armour and not just a man punching a guy in the face.”

“Just my kind of a knight.” You dig your fingers into his uniform, pulling him down to you.

“At your service, ma’am.”

Bucky kissed you and you melted into his arms. You felt him smile against your lips just before he picked you up and swirled you around again.

————————-

Thank you so much for reading! 💙 All interactions are highly appreciated!! (But please don’t copy my work)

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

[rina-sakai]

INCEPTIO ఌ︎. 𝗶'𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲

❪ 你是我此生唯一所愿 ❫ inceptio. latin. meaning - beginning or start ✉︎ 박성훈 ⌯⌲ 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

⚬ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 ⨾ for a better read, i recommend listening to the hidden love soundtrack

⚬ 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 ⨾ finally finished! 🥲 i hope the ending isn't too abrupt but it was getting quite long, so i had to cut it off on a cliffhanger.

⸝⸝ you hadn't meant to fall in love with park sunghoon, your older brother's best friend. but somewhere along the lines of his sweet personality and devastating smile, you did.. and you fell hard.

❝ fluff , angst , skinship ❞ ⨾ my catalogue

that incident was the last time you saw sunghoon.

he tried reaching out to you to explain himself on what happened, but you never returned his calls or messages. eventually, after a week, he had given up, sending you one final message:

"call me when you're ready to talk."

it went unanswered for a year.

he still mailed gifts and notecards attached to them. but they were all unopened, sitting in a box inside your closet.

and now, you stood in front of your mirror in your bedroom. your eyes wandering all over your frame.

it was your graduation day. you were finally done with high-school.

your eye caught something in the corner of the room. a penguin plushie, still in it's clear package and wrapped with that icy blue bow.

sunghoon's graduation gift.

"you remind me of a penguin." you told sunghoon. it was one of the nights last year during the holiday. sunghoon thought it would be a good idea to teach you and jaemin how to figure skate.

you were clumsy, of course. tripping and falling over your feet one too many times to count. but you watched in admiration as sunghoon effortlessly glided across the floor. his movements were sharp, precise, elegant.

it had fascinated you to no end of how he could be so talented at something as hard as figure skating.

he insisted on helping you, leaving jaemin to fend for himself. and every time you fell, sunghoon helped you back up, brushed you off, and made you try again.

your heart ached at the memory. you ran your fingers over your white dress, trying to get rid of it.

a small knock came to the door, then your mom opened it. your eyes locked on hers through the mirror.

she stepped into the room and walked up behind you, you turned to face her, both standing in silence.

you watched her gaze, holding your breath as she looked over you.

you had always craved validation from your parents. you wanted their approval so badly. you wanted them to look at you with the same pride and admiration that they looked at jaemin with.

you had never been a star student, failing a few tests, being late some days, not too athletic. and it felt like a needle in your chest every time your parents looked at you with disappointment.

jaemin, on the other hand, had always excelled in school subjects. he was valedictorian, he played sports, and he could pass an algebra test in his sleep.

her gaze cracked, her mouth tilting up into a smile. "you look so beautiful yn." she said, and then you let out a sigh. this was the first time in years that your parents had praised you.

she adjusted one of the curls in your hair, fixed your necklace, and stepped back. her gaze full of love and joy. "i'm so proud of you."

you bit your lip to stop yourself from crying, already feeling the tears ready to drop. but you had to hold it together, you just did your makeup and you didn't want to ruin it.

she handed you the gown and watched you put it on. you were no longer her little toddler that would paint on the walls, or her rebellious fourteen year old that would blame jaemin for things she did.

you were yn. her beautiful eighteen year old that was graduating, and well on the way to becoming a well-rounded woman.

"should we go now?" you held out your hand to her. she nodded and took your hand, leading both of you out of the bedroom.

jaemin and your father turned their gaze to the stairs as you walked down. their conversation dying. you stepped onto the hard tile and looked at them.

your dad was the first to say something, "you look so beautiful, my love." he took in your appearance, tears welling in his eyes. his baby was all grown up before him.

jaemin, who had been staring the whole time, had finally caught his words. "is that really you little demon?"

you twirled around, "how do i look?"

you waited for him to answer, your eyebrow raising. "i said—" you paused, your eyes widening. "are you crying?"

jaemin shook his head, "no.. no. absolutely not. just got a little something in my eye."

you let out a laugh, "oh my god jae, you are crying."

he rolled his eyes, "so what? yesterday you were just a baby and today you're practically a woman."

your eyes softened, you approached your older brother, wrapping your arms around him.

he hugged you back. "i'm so proud of you, do you know that?"

you nodded, "yeah, i know."

you weren't going to invite sunghoon to your graduation. you knew that from the moment you finished your credits.

but when jaemin questioned why sunghoon didn't get an invite. you lied and told him that it must've gotten lost in the mail.

you didn't have a choice but to invite him now. you were too coward to face sunghoon yourself, so you told jaemin to make sure he comes. leaving it at that.

the car pulled up to the front of the auditorium. you stepped out. the pavement was filled with students, all walking in.

you caught up with your friends, "we finally did it!" you beamed, looping your arm through theirs.

seohyun and eunha had been there for you since the beginning of senior year. they were the first people you met after making a promise to yourself that you would be more social.

you met in a culinary class. seohyun was clumsy and eclectic while eunha was reserved and organized. you fell somewhere right in between their personalities.

the three of you became inseparable quickly. all applying to incheon university and successfully getting in.

eunha turned to look at you, her voice tentative, "did you invite..?" her voice trailed off.

they found out about your crush on sunghoon after another gift he got you was dropped off at your doorstep.

at first, they assumed he was your boyfriend. until one night you confessed everything that happened.

you nodded, "jaemin questioned me about his invite. i lied and said it got lost in the mail." eunha let out a chuckle, that was definitely a you thing.

you panicked under too much pressure.

the three of you parted ways as you entered the auditorium, going to your respective seats in far parts of the room.

the room filled up with people of all ages, you scanned the area, trying to find your family.

your eyes landed on them, and you felt your nerves spike.

sitting next to jaemin, was sunghoon. a sense of déjà vu washed over you. like you were seeing him for the first time again.

he looked more mature than the last time you saw him. his hair was a bit longer, but still styled in a middle part with a few wisps of hair hanging over his forehead like bangs.

his features were sharper, more defined.

and next to him: mae harin.

she sat beside him, her face glowing and pretty. prettier than the last time you saw her. sunghoon smiled at her, reaching his hand out toward—

you turned your gaze quickly, your chest tightening.

the last memory of sunghoon played through your mind.

you clenched the fabric of your gown and forced yourself to breathe. desperate to push the memory back down.

the dean began his speech, but his voice was muffled. distant. your brain had completely tuned it out.

how were you supposed to face sunghoon after completely stonewalling him for a year?

your name was called, snapping you out of a daze. you stood up, breathing in deeply.

you plastered on your best smile and hoped it didn't look like you were about to break down crying at any moment.

you waved at your friends, at your family, and at everyone else who had no idea of the inner turmoil you were facing.

as you stepped off the stage, it finally hit you. you did it, you actually graduated from high school, and with decent enough grades to get into your dream school.

you exited the building, eyes scanning the crowd for your family.

a tap came on your shoulder, you turned just in time to be engulfed into a hug.

"you did it yn. you actually did it." jaemin whispered, his voice muffled into your gown.

you wrapped your arms around him. from over his shoulder you could see your parents approaching.

your shoulders let go of tension when you realized sunghoon and harin weren't with them.

jaemin stepped back and your parents were quick to embrace you next. their words coming out in soft, sweet praises for you, overflowing with pride.

they both let go, looking at you as if you were the center of the world.

and right now? you definitely felt like it.

your mother handed you a bouquet of flowers and a card, it seemed like a tradition she did for every milestone.

your family immediately insisted on taking a bunch of photos and videos of you, because quote, "you only graduate highschool once yn."

caught up in the whirlwind that was your parents and brother making you pose in different poses, you failed to notice the two figures approaching.

"congratulations," a sweet voice chimed behind you.

you turned around, mentally sighing when you realized it was the two people you were dreading.

they looked so in love that it made your stomach twist.

"thank you," you managed, offering both of them a polite smile.

you half expected sunghoon to say something, but he didn't. he only stared at you. quiet, intense, analyzing. just like the first time you met him.

before anything else could be said, a blur of motion launched into you.

"we did it yn! oh my god we graduated!" seohyun squealed, her steps bouncy.

you nearly lost your balance, having to grab into her for support.

you laughed, wrapping your arms around her. "we did! we're graduates!"

seohyun grabbed your hand and turned to your parents. "hello mr. and mrs. lee, i would like to take yn for a moment." she said kindly, giving them a respectful bow.

your parents smiled at her fondly. "go have fun, yn." your father said, waving you both off.

seohyun didn't need to be told twice. she pulled you away, dragging you to a group of celebrating graduates.

sunghoon's gaze never left you.

you looked more grown up than he remembered. your smile was radiant, carefree, less burdened. so different than the yn he used to know.

and for some reason, this hurt him on a deeper level than he cared to admit.

he hadn't even know of your graduation before jaemin had brought it up. sunghoon wasn't going to ask for an invite, he knew you didn't want him there for a reason, whatever it was.

but when jaemin got back to him that his letter was "lost in the mail", he nearly scoffed in your brothers face. you hadn't even bothered to come up with a believable lie.

he had a suspicion that the reason he didn't get an invite had something to do with the last time you saw each other.

he knew it would be tense to bring harin after what transpired, so his original plan was to attend alone.

harin had insisted though, saying that it would be good for all 3 of you to talk it out.

that was a bad idea, sunghoon knew that a conversation would never happen if harin attended. so he kept his stance.

... at first.

but harin continued to insist and it was wearying him down, eventually, he caved.

you laughed and posed with your friends, snapping more photos to fill your camera roll, exchanging promises, and goodbyes.

finally, you waved everyone off, wishing them well on their future endeavors.

your family was waiting for you near the parking lot. you had a dinner reservation—curtesy of your father— that you couldn't be late for.

as always, your footsteps seemed to be slower than everyone else's. a habit you never seemed to break despite growing older.

a familiar presence fell into step next to you. your heart recognizing who it was before your brain could.

sunghoon.

he didn't speak, but your brain was already preparing you for the worst.

he's definitely mad at you. you were stupid to ignore him because of your own foolish crush.

but the scolding never came.

instead, he silently reached into his pocket and held out a small box for you to take.

you looked over at him, expecting an explanation, but his gaze never met yours.

you took the box gently from his hand. "thank you," you said softly, tucking it into the pocket of your gown.

the silence between the two of you lingered for a bit longer. it was uncomfortable, tense, and unfinished. as if the two of you had so much to say, but it never came.

harin caught up to both of you, sliding her hand into sunghoon's with ease.

you took that as your cue to leave. bowing your head, you thanked them for showing up, then excused yourself to catch up with your parents.

your room was a mess.

makeup was scattered across your vanity, clothes laid in piles on the floor, and your closet doors were flung open, revealing the chaos of preparing to move.

this is what getting ready with eunha and seohyun usually looked like.

"which dress should i wear?" you asked, holding up the hangers to the phone.

"the one on the left." "the right one." both of their voices said at the same time.

you let out a sigh.

this is what it felt like to have two best friends who were complete opposites of each other.

eunha and seohyun began bickering with each other about which dress would look better.

you turned to your closet, tuning them out as you looked to find yet another dress.

for the fifth time.

time was running out and you weren't even half way ready.

you grabbed the last dress you owned in your wardrobe. it was still in the packaging, pristine, new.

you don't remember when you got this dress.

if they don't like this, slacks it is.

you slipped on the dress. it was beautiful. white with off the shoulder sleeves and corseted at the waist. it flowed gently over your hips, stopping just at your mid thigh.

you stepped into the camera, and their bickering stopped immediately.

"what about this one?" you asked, giving them a quick spin.

"oh my god, yn." seohyun said, her eyes wide.

"you look so pretty!" eunha beamed, snapping photos of you over the video call.

seohyun smiled, "if sunghoon doesn't want you, i'll date you for sure."

you gave her a look, smoothing the dress down. "is this a yes?"

they both agreed in sync.

you sat down at your vanity, finishing up the final touches on your hair and makeup.

by the time you finished, your parents had already messaged you twice about hurrying up.

you eventually stepped into the living room, your family's eyes drawing towards you.

"go change." jaemin said, waving you back towards the stairs.

your mom hit his shoulder, "you look gorgeous yn."

"her dress is too revealing." jaemin complained.

"she looks fine jaemin, stop complaining and come on." your father said, rolling his eyes.

the car stopped at the valet, and you and your family stepped out.

you were nervous.

sunghoon and harin were going to be in attendance. curtesy of your parents who had personally invited them during the ceremony earlier.

when the two finally arrived, they approached the group.

the tension between them was palpable, something must've transpired before they came.

sunghoon's jaw clenched, and harin looked upset about something.

none of you commented on it as you went inside the restaurant.

sunghoon, as always, lingered near you. harin had already stepped ahead and was talking to your parents.

he held out a bouquet of flowers to you, pink and white lilies, the ones you always had sitting in your bedroom window sill.

you felt the familiar flutter in your stomach when you realized that he had remembered they were you favorite flower.

you only told him this once, in passing, when you were sixteen years old.

you turned to thank him, and for a moment, his eyes lingering on your neck.

something passing through his expression.

your parents had apparently invited their entire social group.

the table was full of business elites. some known to you, some strangers, some they considered their closest friends.

it was a lot.

you never liked big crowds, and this felt more like your parents bragging about your achievement than a family dinner.

but you didn't mind. seeing your parents happy also made you happy.

plus, they all brought you nice gifts.

you slid into your seat, like second nature, sandwiched between jaemin and sunghoon.

sunghoon still hadn't said a word to you, and you were getting anxious due to the silence.

you sat the flowers down behind you, unaware of harin's lingering gaze.

"you already got her an expensive gift! do you really need to buy her flowers too?" harin scoffed at sunghoon.

he ran his fingers through his hair, irritation coursing through his veins.

"i already told you if you didn't like it then you don't have to come." sunghoon replied back, his voice shaky as if he was trying to avoid yelling at her.

harin rolled her eyes, "she clearly has a childish crush on you. how can you not see it."

sunghoon's eyes snapped over to her. "don't talk about her."

he fixed the buttons on his white top harshly. "i'm buying them. end of discussion."

harin sighed frustrated.

they hadn't spoken since that argument. harin silently got ready. sunghoon had left the room completely to catch a break.

from the first time she met you, she could tell from the way you looked at him, that there were some feelings there. you ghosting sunghoon after you caught them kissing solidified it in her mind.

after all, harin had been a teenage girl before. she could easily read your feelings like an open book.

at first, she didn't mind that he would message you to check up on you, or even send you small gifts.

but as they approached their one year anniversary, it started to bother her.

you weren't his little sister, so why did he act like were?

when you first ghosted sunghoon, he had been genuinely worried that something had happened to you.

but after talking to jaemin, and hearing that you were perfectly fine, he knew that you were ignoring him on purpose.

so he let go.

still, harin could tell it affected him, even if he didn't say it out loud.

but you were an adult now, he should've stopped trying so hard.

the older girl never voiced these thoughts to sunghoon, she knew better than that.

last time she brought up your name, sunghoon nearly broke up with her.

dinner continued, but you couldn't shake the feeling of sunghoon's tense presence next to you.

you'd imagined what your first words to sunghoon would be like. how you'd explain yourself, how you'd act. but now that he was actually here, you couldn't come up with anything.

you finally spoke to him, "are you okay?" after one year of completely ghosting him, that's what you ask?

his gaze snapped over to you, it was clear he hadn't expected you to say something.

you were already looking at him, he could tell you were nervous from the way you couldn't make eye contact.

he scoffed, "so now you want to talk?"

you bit your bottom lip, thinking of something to say. probably another excuse, sunghoon knew you too well.

"don't say anything if it's going to be another excuse on why you couldn't return my calls, yn."

he didn't speak to you in that same slightly teasing tone he usually did.

he spoke to you seriously. this was the first time he'd ever been so serious with you.

you looked away, "i was caught off guard."

"so that means ghost me?" he shot back.

your tone stayed low, careful to not make a scene.

"can you blame me? you kept a major part of your life from me." you replied, your brows furrowing.

"you ghosted me yn. i think i can." he responded, his voice slightly raised, causing people to look at you.

your tongue poked the inside of your cheek, "do you really want to argue right now sunghoon?"

that got him quiet.

you both sat in silence for a while before you excused yourself to the bathroom.

sunghoon unclenched his fists and let out a breath.

he didn't want to argue with you. that's not why he came.

he wanted to explain everything to you, but now he was afraid that he fucked it all up.

harin entered the bathroom just as you stepped out. neither of you exchanged words or even a glance at each other.

not that you expected anything from her anyways, she was just sunghoon's girlfriend.

nothing more.

"oh look, there you are!" your mother beamed, waving you over. she was surrounded by all her business friends.

sunghoon watched from a distance as you unwrapped their gifts for you, smiling politely and thanking them.

it stung, knowing you opened everyone else's gift for you except his.

he thought about harin's words.

even though he hated when she spoke about you as if she knew you, to some extent, she was right.

you had been ignoring him for a whole year and he yet, he still didn't stop trying.

but deep down sunghoon knew that he wouldn't stop being there for you, even if you didn't want him to be.

even if it took you fifty years to speak to him again.

you reminded him a lot of yoona in some ways, especially when you were younger.

maybe that's why he held on so tightly.

"come on sunghoon, get in the picture." your dad called, looking at him expectantly.

sunghoon opened his mouth to politely decline, but your father narrowed his eyes.

he had known your family since he was 8, when his parents first moved to seoul. in a way, your family was like his second family.

so he stepped into frame, next to jaemin, with you in the front.

the camera went off a few times, some with your whole family, and some with only jaemin.

your mom scrolled through the pictures on her phone, "how about sunghoon and yn next? they haven't taken a photo together in years."

jaemin agreed, stepped out of the camera, and pulling out his phone to take a picture too.

you mentally cursed jaemin, all the times he complained about you stealing his friend and this one time he agrees?

you shook your head, "i'm not sure—" your voice cut off when your eyes caught your moms icy glare.

her eyebrow arched, as if she was daring you to disobey her in front of her colleagues.

you closed your mouth quickly, stepping back next to sunghoon.

standing next to him was like opening up memories that you wanted to keep in the farthest corner of your mind, untouched.

it reminded you of a simpler time, when you were just a fourteen year old girl with a silly crush.

you're older now yn, let go of your childish fantasies.

an older lady —a businesswoman your mom forced you to meet earlier— stepped towards you, handing you the flower she saw you set down.

you smiled at her, tense but still kind. "thank you."

she stepped back, her lips pulled into a grin, a knowing look passed through her eyes as she looked at the two of you.

you took a few photos, trying to make them look as natural as possible.

your mother hummed satisfied and put her phone down, "you can go now."

you let out a sigh, running your fingers through your curls.

"congratulations on your graduation," someone said on your left.

you turned, smiling politely at the lady, letting out a small thank you for what seemed like the thousandth time today.

god, you really wanted to go home.

"are you two dating?" she asked, looking between you and sunghoon.

harin stepped out of the bathroom, just in time to catch the end of the lady's words.

furrowing her eyebrows, she stepped around the corner to see the woman speaking to you and sunghoon.

your heartbeat sped up, a blush rising to your cheeks. you quickly shook your head, "he has a girlfriend."

harin stepped next to sunghoon, interlacing her hands with his. as if she was trying to mark a claim on him.

the older woman eyed their hands, "shame," she muttered. she gave you small smile and then turned around to speak to someone else.

well, this is awkward.

you excuses yourself from the two, going back to your seat.

harin's gaze flickered to you, and then to sunghoon. his eyes were already on your retreating figure, something unreadable in them.

the dinner wrapped up pretty quickly after that.

you had a very long few weeks ahead of you and all you wanted now was to forget the way his hand looked in hers.

why didn't anyone tell you that moving to a different city was this hard?

you huffed, kicking another box out of the way.

you thought this would have been easier considering the essentials list that you made.

but as you threw more and more things into boxes, you were regretting just how much useless things you wrote down.

you looked around the room, sweat clinging to your forehead. moving 13 boxes was going to be impractical to do by yourself

you were never athletic.. or good at anything to do with being active at all.

jaemin couldn't help due to his conflicting work schedules, and your two best friends were vacationing.

i wish i was on a vacation right now.

the three of you agreed that it would be easier and more convenient if you lived in an off-campus house.

you'd all get your own space, and you wouldn't have to worry about all the regulations that came with living in dorms.

the plan was for all three of you to drive there together. but as fate would have it, both of their families decided to take a last minute vacation before the move.

how convenient.

your father leaned against the door, watching you pack up, a bittersweet feeling washing over him.

your parents were worried about you moving away from them. but knowing that seohyun and eunha were going to be there by your side, eased their hearts a bit.

plus, sunghoon would be there, and that gave them even more peace.

your parents trusted sunghoon with you, maybe even more than jaemin.

your father watched you struggle to pick up a box, letting out a small chuckle.

you turned to him, "this is funny?" you looked at him exasperated.

"watching your poor, helpess, unathletic daughter struggle to pick up a box is funny to you?"

he pushed off the doorframe, approaching you. "you weren't always this bad at heavy lifting."

he picked up the box easily. "i think you could lift more back then."

you rolled your eyes, "thanks for the confidence booster, dad."

your dad reminded you a lot of jaemin. the way they both teased you annoyed you to no end.

but you wouldn't have it any other way.

your heart ached when you realized you wouldn't see them as often.

is this how jaemin felt when he went to university?

your father carried all the boxes to the car for you. a white lexus is350, your eighteenth birthday gift.

"no yn, i told you the turn signals are on the left." your father said.

you huffed, "i told you i got it."

your father had been teaching you how to drive for a while now.

you begged him to teach you, even going as far as to make a powerpoint on why it would be useful.

you flicked on the turn signal, everything was going smoothly. then, you abruptly hit the breaks, causing your dad to nearly fly out of his seat.

"shit yn—"

"sorry, sorry, i didn't mean to do that." you rushed out, your eyes widening.

you pointed to the furry animal sitting in the road, a few feet away, "there's a squirrel."

the car was silent for a moment, your father breathing in a few times.

you silently unbuckled your seatbelt. "same time tomorrow?" you looked at him, biting your lip to stop from laughing.

"you're going to kill me." he muttered.

you smiled at the memory. you eventually did get the hang of it. and as a late birthday gift, your parents got you a car.

you looked around your bedroom as if to say one last goodbye.

you bit your lip to stop yourself from crying.

this is real, i'm really leaving.

you stepped out the room, closing your eyes to steady yourself

it all felt so surreal.

your parents were already waiting for you by the door. your mom looked wrecked, as if one word from you would make her cry.

you stepped in front of them... and the tears began to fall.

one. two. then your cheeks were soaked.

you felt your mom's arms wrap around you tightly. then your dad, caging you into them like a blanket.

they didn't cry this much when jaemin left.

eventually they pulled away, your mom wiping your tears and giving you a soft smile, "i love you."

you nodded. "i love you too."

grabbing your jacket and purse, you turned to go.

your dad wrapped his arm around your mom as they watched you leave.

you turned around, waving at them one last time, then stepped in the car.

and with one final breath, you sped off.

you didn't think much when jaemin asked for the address to your new apartment.

but suspicion started creeping in a few moments later, when he asked for the time you would be arriving.

your suspicions were confirmed when you pulled into the lot and spotted him.

sunghoon. leaning against his car.

of course this is what jaemin was up to.

your breath hitched the moment your eyes landed on him.

he was wearing a black fitted top, muscles taut under the fabric.

he looked good.. too good, unfortunately for you.

you quickly looked away, parking your car into the space next to his.

you mentally prepared yourself, grabbing your purse and stepping out of the car.

sunghoon had his gaze on you, watching as you tied up your hair.

neither of you said anything. you popped the trunk, revealing all the boxes.

"jaemin called you," you said flatly, already aware of your brothers' antics.

"you didn't."

you exhaled sharply. this was going to be a long day.

he grabbed a box watching as you also went to grab one. "leave it," he said. "you'll make the process longer."

your bit the inside of your cheek, stopping yourself from saying something you'd regret later.

drop it yn, he's helping you right now.

you led him to the apartment, leading him to the bedroom you girls agreed would be yours.

sunghoon dropped the box, leaving you to take in the apartment that was now yours.

you sat on the island counter, watching him come in and out the apartment.

his hair began to cling to his forehead due to the heat. his muscles bulging under the weight of the boxes.

you tried not to stare, you really did, but he was a sight for sore eyes.

after a while, you got up and began unpacking some of the boxes.

sunghoon worked pretty fast, and within 30 minutes, all the boxes were inside.

so busy with putting things up, you didn't notice sunghoon's eyes wander across the room before landing on an open box.

he looked at the box for a moment. then he stepped towards it, looking around inside.

your head whipped over to him, your heart dropping.

you saw the flicker of something in his eyes— something raw— just before they hardened.

"you didn't even open them." he said. his voice was low and controlled.

"i was busy." you replied, turning your gaze back to the box in front of you.

"when are you going to stop lying to me yn?" his voice sharpened. "seriously."

"i didn't ask for your help." you snapped.

you watched his eyes widen a bit, but he didn't say anything. so you didn't stop.

"i didn't ask for any of that," you gestured to the box of unopened gifts. "you did that on your own."

silence.

he tsk'd, nodding at your words, "you're right."

you turned back to the box in front of you, your hands shaky.

then, the door slammed shut, leaving you in silence.

you worked quietly for another hour, the argument lingering in your mind.

you're such an idiot. he was just trying to help.

your phone rang, snapping you out of your thoughts.

jaemin.

you answered.

your hands began to tremble again the moment you heard his voice. it wasn't teasing. it wasn't soft.

it was cold. serious. angry.

"what did you say to sunghoon?" he asked, his voice sharp.

"i didn't say anything." your voice came out soft, almost a whisper.

your fingers curled around the denim of your jeans.

jaemin scoffed, "oh really? that's not what he told me."

he didn't give you a chance to speak. "sunghoon chose to help you today, of all days. the day he should be spending at home resting, grieving."

you opened your mouth, but jaemin cut in again.

"do you have any idea what today is?"

you hesitated, your brows furrowing. racking your mind for any event of significance. "why would i know what today is?"

a pause.

then jaemin's voice came, low, almost disgusted.

"today is the seventh anniversary of his parents' death."

END PART 2

taglist - @woahsehun @1ckyw1ckyyyyy @lowaerii @luvksnn @la-choiblog @mypolka @miauumin @eclipsaria @t1iqaa @evxnsbae @aishigrey @evanleeisahoe @prkhoonlvr @gxwesn @whateverhoon @enhajungwonheart @taeminsboogers

[dollyswishingwell]

So I had a thought which is dangerous but I digress. What if MC has like too much rizz and this is pre-relationship with our obsessive lads boys. Like, the boys love her and she's oblivious to their feelings, and whilst that happens, she's literally always catching hearts left and right. Barista that works at Destiny Cafe? She gives MC free coffee all the time. A group of male insects walk by? They're all running into poles or trip over themselves. And she's loving all this attention while the boys are like "IM LITERALLY RIGHT HERE AND READY TO TAKE CARE OF YOU!!!!"

Like these ppl will not leave the gurl alone and the lads boys are this close 🤏 to committing so many crimes and getting sentenced to life in prison. That's all for my speech today 🙌

ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ level 10 Rizz

𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 ˙⋆✮ Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 ˙⋆✮ fluff, crack, this is so funny to me :D

> ࣪𖤐.ᐟ Your rizz is endless but so is your ignorance

𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙡 °‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

– Rafayel is literally deranged over you. He watches from a distance as you effortlessly steal hearts without even meaning to. Hair toss? Cute laugh? Eye contact? He’s gripping the nearest surface.

– You think you’re just being friendly. You don’t notice the barista at Destiny Café slipping you an extra espresso shot and scribbling hearts on the cup. Raf sees it. Raf memorizes the name of the barista. Raf is not okay.

– You’re smiling at a random passing group of guys, and they all trip over their own feet like a scene from a rom-com. You giggle and wave. Rafayel is behind you, absolutely vibrating with rage-coded infatuation.

– “Don’t you get tired of entertaining losers?” he’ll mutter, trailing after you like a too-hot shadow.

“Aw, you jealous?”

Raf laughs hollowly “Don’t test me, pretty girl.”

– When you sweetly ask his opinion on what to wear for your “casual night out,” he stares at you like you just asked if you should walk into traffic.

“…No,” he says simply.

“Why not?”

“Because if you walk out in that, I’ll have to break at least three necks tonight, and I’m already tired.”

– He’s constantly softening his voice around you, acting all chill and teasing like, “Go ahead, keep collecting fans, pretty thing.” But inside he’s screaming. Like actually screaming.

– When you say things like “You’re such a good friend, Raffy!” he goes straight to the underworld to take out his frustration on a criminal syndicate.

“I’m not your friend,” he whispers to himself, with a shattered smile.

– But then, when you do give him even a little of that rizz? When you wink at him, or cup his cheek playfully? He glitches. He malfunctions. His brain just, stop.

– “You’re going to ruin me,” he finally says one day, voice low and close to your ear. “And I’m going to let you. But for god’s sake, stop smiling at everyone like that unless it’s going to be me.”

𝙕𝙖𝙮𝙣𝙚 ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

– Zayne has spent his whole life controlling his emotions. But you? You make control a myth.

– You walk into the hospital cafeteria, flash that pretty smile at the intern behind the register, and suddenly he’s giving you a “loyalty card” with 10 free meals already stamped.

Zayne sees. Zayne notes it. Zayne adjusts his cufflinks like he isn’t plotting to reassign that intern to the basement archives.

– You’re talking to a male nurse and laughing. The guy’s flirting, blushing, adjusting his scrubs.

“He’s sweet.”

Zayne, stone-faced: “He’s an idiot.”

“You think everyone’s an idiot.”

“No. Just the ones who think they have a chance.”

– He’s walking with you through the hospital lobby and some guy dares to wink at you. Zayne’s hand is suddenly at your lower back. Gentle, guiding, but possessive.

“Oh? Playing bodyguard?”

“Would you prefer they try again?”

– You think Zayne’s just your “grumpy doctor friend” who’s always sighing and adjusting your jacket or handing you water like he’s keeping you alive.

Zayne is, in fact, clinically obsessed with you. You are his favorite case study in restraint.

– “This guy at the gym asked for my number. Isn’t that cute?”

Zayne: blinks slowly

“…You’re not going back to that gym.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. And you’re getting a home gym. I’ll install it myself.”

– You’ll lean on his shoulder all sweet and unaware, going, “You’d tell me if someone liked me, right?”

And this man, this emotionally constipated man, will look at you like you just split open his ribcage.

“…No,” he says eventually.

“…Why not?”

“Because I’m not ready to see what happens if I do.”

– But every time you rizz him up without realizing, when you casually touch his wrist, or hum while standing too close, or look up at him with those eyes?

He has to take a measured breath. Like he’s about to go into surgery. Because he is fighting for his life.

𝙓𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧 ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

– Xavier stands beside you like a statue of serenity. Meanwhile, his brain is short-circuiting every time you unintentionally destroy another person’s will to live with your beauty.

– You giggle, “That vendor gave me this necklace for free. Said it matched my eyes.”

Xavier turns away and mumbles to himself “I should have bought the entire booth.”

– You smile at some poor delivery guy who nearly drops a box of flowers at your feet.

“That was sweet, right?”

Xavier: “…He was sweating.”

“So?”

“I was two seconds from incinerating him.”

– You lean over his arm while scrolling through new outfits, asking, “Would this look good on me?” and he’s frozen in place like a system update failed.

“Yes.”

“You didn’t even look?”

“I’ve already memorized your measurements. It would look perfect.”

– “This guy at the café said I looked like a star.”

Xavier, smiling gently: “He’s not wrong.”

You: “You’re not mad?”

Xavier: smile widens just slightly “No. Stars burn out, after all.”

– People flirt with you constantly. Xavier is always there. Silently appearing at your side. Soft-spoken. Menacingly polite. He will stare someone into evaporating.

Barista: “Here’s your drink, angel~”

Xavier, behind you: “Thank you. I’ll make sure she doesn’t drink it.”

– When you’re sweet and lean into him like, “Xav, you’re the only one who doesn’t flirt with me!” he just stares.

“You think I’m not flirting?” he murmurs, voice low. “I’ve been in love with you for months.”

– And every time you call him “my favorite,” or playfully hold onto his sleeve, or rest your head on his chest?

He stands perfectly still, soaking it in like you’re light and he’s the void that wants to keep you forever.

– He goes home, lies on the couch face-down, and screams into the cushions. Then probably wakes up four hours later under the coffee table. Still in love. Still suffering.

𝙎𝙮𝙡𝙪𝙨 ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩

– Sylus is the type to stand in the back of a gala, swirling his drink, eyes fixed on you while ten people try to flirt with him. He doesn’t even blink.

You’re across the room, smiling like sin, and he’s already rewriting his will to include your name on everything.

– You: “This guy at the salon offered me a discount today. Said it’s ‘criminal to charge someone so beautiful.’”

Sylus: doesn’t laugh. doesn’t smile.

Sylus: “What’s criminal is how many limbs I’m willing to break for that kind of nonsense.”

– Every time someone hits on you, Sylus isn’t jealous, he’s offended. Like, how dare they breathe your air as if it belongs to them?

– You wear something cute. He stares. You catch him. He smirks.

You: “Too much?”

Sylus: “No. Let them look.”

pause

Sylus, voice lower: “I’ll be the one undressing you, eventually.”

– He watches you lead men on accidentally, smiling, tilting your head, touching arms like you’re just being sweet, and he laughs under his breath.

“You really don’t know what you’re doing to me, do you?”

– You: “Why are you always around when I get hit on?”

Sylus: “Why are you always surprised when I am?”

You: “Coincidence?”

Sylus: “No. Surveillance.”

– He’s smug as hell when you cling to him in public. You wrap your arms around his, looking all pretty and unaware, and he melts internally.

“Careful, darling,” he murmurs, “You’ll make me think you’re mine already.”

– But the second you call him your “partner-in-crime” or “best friend”?

He’s shutting the world down for a moment. Recalculating.

“Friend,” he repeats, smiling like a shark. “That’s cute.”

– You blow him a kiss jokingly once and he genuinely stops mid-step.

“You’re dangerous,” he says softly, almost to himself. “But I want it. I want all of it.”

𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙗 ⋆｡ ‧˚ʚ🍎ɞ˚‧｡ ⋆

– Caleb does not understand how you do it. You’re out here causing collateral damage with one flirty laugh. One glance. One bat of your lashes. And he’s behind you like:

“Can you not charm the entire civilian population for five minutes?”

– You: “The Skyhaven shuttle pilot gave me a discount! Said I made his day.”

Caleb: already inputting the pilot’s name into a blacklisted personnel database

You: “You okay?”

Caleb: calm, composed “Yeah. Just thinking about airlock safety protocols.”

– You’re always unintentionally inviting chaos. Helping some random guy adjust his tie? Chatting up an ambassador who’s clearly swooning? Caleb is right there.

You: “Oh, I didn’t realize that was flirting…”

Caleb: “Of course you didn’t.”

You: “You sound mad.”

Caleb: “I’m fine. Just making a mental list of every man you’ve ever smiled at.”

– His arms are crossed, jaw tight, eyes tracking your every move like you’re a mission he hasn’t been cleared for yet.

He says nothing, but that death glare he sends across the room?

The man you were talking to suddenly remembers he has a meeting on Mars.

– You: “Caleb, you’re always staring at me.”

Caleb: “You’re always giving me a reason to.”

– He’s terrifying to everyone else, Fleet Colonel, absolute legend. But then you look at him and giggle and he goes completely soft.

You: “You’re blushing!”

Caleb: “I’m not.”

You: “You are!”

Caleb: quietly malfunctioning “…Don’t tease.”

– You’ll loop your arm through his like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He’ll keep walking like normal, but his ears are red and he’s processing that for the next three hours.

– And when you call him something innocent like “my favorite colonel” with a wink?

He just. Stops.

“You can’t say things like that,” he murmurs.

You: “Why not?”

Caleb: voice low, raw “Because I’ll think you mean it. And then I won’t be able to hold back anymore.”

[shosweet]

i feel like akaashi keiji has a genuine, unshakable, unironic love for tangled.

𐙚 he’s most likely dressed up as flynn for halloween and if he wants to switch it up, he’ll be rapunzel!

“why do you look better in that dress than i do?” you ask, smoothing down your navy blue vest.

“i dunno, maybe it’s a sign that it’s who i’m meant to be,” he sighs, looking out the window with longing, wind favoring his pretty black strands. he takes a deep breath, feeling familiar guitar strings play in his head.

“wrap it up, keiji, you’ll never be her.”

“GOD FORBID A GUY HAS A DREAM?!”

𐙚 he’s probably tried to convince you to get a pet chameleon.

he won’t tell you straight up, he’d just softly hint at you — primacy effect!

when you go to the bathroom, he’d sneak on your phone, search up pictures of chameleons, and leave it like that for you to come back to. when you do, he’ll just wait with patient eyes.

when you go to the pet store or just walk by it, he’d linger on a chameleon’s display window, whispering sweet promises to it.

“you’ll come home with me soon,” he giggles, tapping the window gently as he admires the little reptile.

finally caving in, you take him to the store once more and grant his wishes.

“you really want one, kei?” you smile.

he looks at you with wide eyes, literally sparkling as he nods so fast he might become a fan.

now at home, he’s cuddling with his new favorite friend.

“i think i’ll name youuu…. pashcal. you can’t beat the original, but you’re my special little boy,” he whispers to it, stroking its head lovingly with his fingertip.

𐙚 he’s most definitely sang “flower gleam and glow” when brushing your hair.

he has a gentle hold on your strands, weaving the brush through them softly. it’s his favorite pastime with you, especially if he needs to unwind after a long day. sometimes, he’d whisper (what he considers) sweet nothings.

“i promise i won’t cut off your hair and sell it,” he says with a genuine smile. you tense up a bit, fighting the urge to call the police, but you can’t interrupt this man’s happy time. thus, he keeps going, rubbing his toes together in his fuzzy socks happily.

on days when he’s exhausted, he’ll lay his head in his lap, silently asking for you to do the same to him. you give a small peck to his forehead before running your fingers through his hair, scratching and massaging his scalp the way he likes.

sometimes, he’ll look up at you with wide, sleepy eyes, signaling you to do something. getting the hint, you smile and sing his precious little song. after you do, he smiles and closes his eyes, melting into your touch.

𐙚 he love love loveees lanterns!!

for your one year anniversary, you took him to the park at night, candles and a small meal prepared on a soft blanket. there’s fairy lights on the trees surrounding you, illuminating your little spot. grabbing something from your bag, you tell him to close his eyes.

“no peeking, kei!” you giggle.

“i’m not, i’m not,” he chuckles.

“okay, open!”

his eyes see two paper lanterns in your hands, still unlit, but he noticed intricate patterns on the paper. his breath hitches, feeling his heart swell and eyes sting.

“you didn’t…”

“happy anniversary, kei,” you bashfully say, twisting your body left and right out of excitement. he takes one lantern into his hand, cheeks warm with tears. with your free hand, you cup his cheek and wipe them away.

“awh, don’t cry, baby,” you coo. he only feels more tears coming, dipping his head into your shoulder.

“i love you so much,” he sniffles. you smile and rub his back, kissing the side of his head.

“i love you, too.”

after a bit, you light up your lanterns and send them into the sky, hands intertwined. each anniversary, no matter which one it is or where you spend it, you’ll always end off the night with a pair of lanterns.

in bed, as the world grows quiet, you’re cuddled close to him, breathing in his faint, sweet vanilla as he kisses your head. every night, he whispers the same thing with more love in his heart than the day before.

“you’re my dream come true.”

[decayedsword]

ronin x reader dressed as veronica and jd on halloween? I love your work btw!

A Not-So Hollow Halloween

cw : mentions of blood, murder, gore, slightly suggestive content and (im not sure how to tag this...) but a reference that one scene from heathers where veronica's with kurt and ram in the woods :)

enjoy 1.5k words. i poured my soul into this methinks

October 31st. It's finally that time of the year when people in your neighborhood can display skeletons outside their house like it's a normal occurrence. Halloween doesn't come quick, but once it does, everyone suddenly plays into the scary grotesqueness of the season, acting as if they wouldn't be scared shitless by the sight of Jeff the Killer if it were any other month.

Not you, though. You had plans tonight that did not involve blood splattered all over your clothes.

You tightened the blue blazer across your torso, smoothing out the creases in the fabric. For tonight, your name would be Veronica Sawyer, drowning in your self-proclaimed teenage angst that miserably and unfortunately had a body count.

Your hands ran through your hair, making sure to fluff and frizz it up slightly, giving you that 90's feel. There's nothing a bit of hairspray can't fix...

A notification sounded from your computer and your gaze stayed momentarily on your reflection before you stepped back to check the device.

Ah. The Slaughterhouse Losers. Your favourite serial killers.

announcements

Angelic: @everyone Who's up for a costume contest later today? c:

goreboy: fuck yeah

who better than to Win if not The Devil Himself?

Angelic: Please. Like I'd let you.

goreboy: don't try and Strike Me Down angel

general

hitmeuppp: am i the only one who thinks angel wasnt capitalised for a reason

LUCA_IS_SO_COOL: NO ❌ I 🧍🏼‍♂️ ALSO ✌️ THINK 🧠 THAT ⭕

hitmeuppp: SEE

luca gets me

K9: A costume contest? Do we have any... rules?

Angelic: I don't think so! Feel free to dress up as whatever you'd like <3

goreboy: or

we could do Matching Costumes

adds to the fun, doncha Think?

Eviscerator1990: I Like This Suggestion.

Ai_Hua444: 😊

felicite: I've always wanted to do a couple's costume!

hitmeuppp: luca that's your cue

luca

LUCA???

LUCA_IS_SO_COOL: SORRY IM BACK

was dming a certain someone

felicite: luca.

goreboy: alright Pack It Up lovebirds

anyway

votes are in, Angel

Angelic: Well, that settles it then, I suppose!

Matching costumes it is! Can't wait to see all of you cuties later 🤍

Your hands hover over your keyboard, however your hopes of sending a message are swiftly interrupted when yet another notification rings through your bedroom. It was from your phone, which was elbow-deep in clothing you had strewn around looking for a costume you could put together.

Last week, you and your friends has decided to go as characters from Heathers, specifically the main four of the show. Cute, you had thought at the time, but it wasn't so cute when you got a little too caught-up in your novel that by the time you realized it was Halloween, you had nothing to wear.

Thankfully, with a good wardrobe and god-level plot armor as a main character of a musical and a movie, you were able to throw something together in time.

With a bit of rummaging, you were able to find the source of all the ringing. Pulling out your phone and reading the onslaught of messages, your eyes widen and you rush to head out for the night.

The computer on your desk is left open and alone. You don't look back.

The evening air is cold and almost unforgiving, however when your friends are oh-so warm and huggy, it makes up for it.

There's a weird fondness between three Heathers and only one Veronica tonight, teetering the line between canon and costume, but you four love each other nonetheless. You remember it like it was yesterday, the day you watched the movie with them for the first time. If it hadn't become the group favourite then, it secured the title when you guys attended the live musical.

It's almost funny how your fiction mixed with your reality.

The scene is all-too similar from. You're all at a party, and your friends, whose kindess you will never deny, have gone their separate ways to find someone to flirt with.

Two guys have been talking your ear off for the past 30 minutes. You silently hope your lack of enthusiasm in your replies are enough to send them away, yet they manage to entertain each other even with your "yeahs" and "mhms".

"Sorry ladies. Mind if I take this one from ya?" A tall build looms behind you, the vocal fry in his tone familiar and uncanny all at once. This is the first time you've heard it beyond a screen. The hairs on the back of your neck stick up. Do you dare look back and stare into the abyss? His abyss?

The faux angel boys are no match for the devil of a man that towers over them. You watch them mutter some half-hearted excuse, eyes darting rapidly and refusing to meet his, as they scurry somewhere else. Like live prey hunted by their predator.

You turn around and there he is! Your very own Jason Dean, complete with his dyed red hair and black nail polish, crowned with the name of Ronin Beaufort.

You can hear your heartbeat in your head. How contradictive. You've always had the upper hand in your choices, but with the Devil's Butcher, who makes you read in between the lines for his true messages, you were always six steps behind.

The music drowns out your voice. You look kind of stupid, trying to start a conversation in a crowded area, and you don't fail to notice the smirk growing amidst Ronin's face. He lazily slings his arm over your shoulder and presses up his lips against your ear.

"You better speak up, darlin'. Can't hear ya confess with all this shazam." You instinctively tilt your head, baring your neck for him and his chuckle reverberates against your shoulder, making your cheeks flush red.

You turn to face him, cupping your hands around your mouth as he leans down to help you speak to him. You whisper back.

"Was it just me or did that feel like too much of a Veronica Sawyer moment?" There's an air of giggles between the two of you and there's the slightest hint of devilry reflected in you in Ronin's void black eyes.

There's an unspoken agreement between the two of you. You're not sure when your boyfriend managed to influence your thoughts, but there's something sinister and bloody blooming in the back of your minds, and you know he knows you so well.

"You still owe me. Remember that darlin'." He whispers, a breath against your lips, and you want to chase him. You can't. There's something you must do.

There's something you want to do.

It's a little too easy to convince the boys you were talking to earlier to follow you home. "Oh, he was boring. You guys are more fun to be around." you had said, fake smile strategically weaved across your face.

With every single step you took, two bags of meat behind you, a real, manic grin spread across the apples of your cheeks, reaching your eyes.

You lead them to an alleyway.

"I'm actually really into doing it... publicly." you start, twirling your hair between your fingers and looking up at the two.

You can feel a third pair of eyes burn into you. It's a struggle to hide how fucking amused you are by this sick joke of yours. You turn around, making sure no one can see the smile on your face.

This'll make a great story.

"On the count of three, got it?" You say, not for the boys before you, but for the goreboy you know is just right around the corner.

There's confusion in the air and their complaints muffle themselves in your ears as you count.

"One." The first angel boy steps closer towards you.

"Two." The second angel boy steps farther away from you.

A clang rattles through the junction. There's a loud scream, but it doesn't come from the dead body now on the ground.

"Three!" A different voice echoes. Mirthful. Sinful.

One of the guys is stuck there, frozen on the spot, eyes wide and heavy and oh, you're laughing, insane and batshit and nothing like Veronica. You giggle at the irony. Ronin does too. He's a much better fit for JD, but the joke stays.

The two of you stray from the plot of the movie when Ronin backs the guy into a corner. He gives you his crowbar.

You go for the eyes.

killer_shit

user: i think we won this one!!

[photo]

It's a picture of you and Ronin in your room. Both of you are drenched in blood, and Ronin's holding up an eyeball, but it's romantic nonetheless. Especially considering with how his lips, at the very least, are pressed against your cheek.

You close your computer, giving it its much needed rest.

"Wanna bite?" He smirks, showing off his sharp canines as he holds the eye between the two of you.

You almost consider it. Almost. Instead, you opt to reach for his face instead, pulling the skin at the base of his eyebags down.

"I'd prefer yours, darling." There's a small mocking smile on your face when you say it, before you let go and press a kiss onto his eyelid.

Ronin's cackle manages to fit between your lips when he kisses you.

You wouldn't have him any other way.

here you guys go! not the hanahaki fic i promised but uhhhhhhhh yeah so heh

[changingplumbob]

Second Round - Day One (3PO) 3 of 3

@lostinsixam, @igglemouse, @simstagramsomeone, @daedriyth, @ashubii, @simscici

Lara: Thank you, thank you! Just wait for my next comeback! *laughs*

Abigail: *shocked* Wha-HOW?! Is this real life?

Lara: Whether it’s luck or talent, I really put a lot of effort into it! As did you Abby

Abigail: I just wish I was in a better mood today

Lara: I'm sorry. We only get one date this round so I hope you feel better by your turn

Abigail: Maybe I'll grab a snack

Lara decided she wanted to go to the beach for her solo date.

Deanna: Do you think you're mostly lucky or unlucky?

Lara: Just being here already makes me feel super lucky, honestly! *laughs*

Deanna: Such a compliment *winks* What's the luckiest or unluckiest thing that has ever happened to you?

Lara: If I had to pick a memorable moment, it would be the time I accidentally set one of the DJ equipment pieces on fire. I was still pretty new at it, and a friend had kindly given me the chance to play at one of his shows. But after the DJ booth caught fire, the party turned into complete chaos. Luckily, it was an open-air venue and no one got hurt… so in the end, I guess I was lucky after all, right?

Deanna: Can we get deep for a bit? My family believe in the watcher but I know not everyone does. Do you believe in fate, you know, destiny? Or do you think we're all at the mercy of some watcher?

Lara: I like to believe that we’re truly free to choose what we want to do, when, and how we want to do it

Deanna: Can I ask what makes you believe that?

Lara: The idea of a pre-written destiny for my life feels a bit limiting. It’s a romantic notion, sure, but I’d rather choose who I’m going to love than live in the uncertainty of whether someone out there is the one

Deanna: Say you can live anywhere. Where would you live?

Lara: Hmm... definitely San My. I love the big city vibe! The lights, the busy routine, the parties… But Tomarang is really charming too, and I’ve heard the night market is a major highlight. So I think I’d choose to live there as well! Oops, I picked two worlds *laughs*. I’m a bit indecisive... there are just so many fun and amazing places to live!

Deanna: I have to say I like being in Tartosa because it's close to my family

Lara: I wouldn’t mind living in Tartosa or somewhere nearby. After all, we can always travel to other places for vacation, right?

Deanna: I could be persuaded to move if it was to somewhere stable, not constant packing and unpacking

Lara: Respecting that you don't like to travel much,I’m okay with that too. Traveling occasionally for vacations is normal and even healthy, but even I couldn’t handle traveling all the time. To give you an idea, I don’t go to concerts that are far from where I live; the ones nearby are a whole different story! *laughs*

Abby has picked the park for her date this round.

Deanna: Do you think you're mostly lucky or unlucky?

Abby: *smiles awkwardly* Well... let's just say if luck favors the bold, then I'm 100% unlucky.

Deanna: What's the unluckiest thing that has ever happened to you then?

Abby: I once tried to prank my sister by putting hair dye in the shampoo bottle, but then I forgot about it, and went to take a shower that night... Let's just say cheese yellow is not my color.

Deanna: *laughing* Oh no! Cheese yellow is the worst

Deanna: Can we get deep for a bit? My family believe in the watcher but I know not everyone does. Do you believe in fate, you know, destiny? Or do you think we're all at the mercy of some watcher?

Abby: I don't believe in destiny, not the mercy of some Watcher

Deanna: Can I ask what makes you believe that?

Abby: Not because I don't think is impossible, but because the thought of someone else having control over my own life freaks me out. So yeah, I prefer to believe we create our own destiny.

Deanna: Say you can live anywhere. Where would you live?

Abby: Nordhaven, for sure, it has such a cool vibe without being too much like a big city. But honestly, any Simrope world would be fine by me.

Deanna: I have to say I like being in Tartosa because it's close to my family. I could be persuaded to move if it was to somewhere stable though

Abby: I get it. I too like being close to my sister, and even my friends. The idea of being constantly on the move isn't appealing to me either. So I think finding a place that we both feel good about, and puts us on equal grounds is key here.

With the dates concluded it's skill time back at the villa. The contestants get four hours today to focus on a skill of their choice. Kennedy and Lara both choose to work on their charisma. Hedging her bets Abby chooses to study fitness. Getting more specific Kay, Callie and Jerrica all pick studying rock climbing.

While Deanna is prepping food for everyone I catch up with her about the dates.

Devin: Last round you had to wait and wait for a date with Lara. You get it first this time

Deanna: *smiling* it was nice to spend time with her and Abby. Abby in particular impressed me

Devin: Oh?

Deanna: I know she woke up sad and she was a bit gloomy on the date BUT she pushed through it. She was chatting and flirting despite her mood which felt nice

Devin: Any sentiments?

Deanna: *sad sigh* Not this time. I mean friendship and romance increased but they weren't gold level dates

Deanna fixed everyone dinner. At this point autonomy is set to full again. Deanna will not start conversations, it's up to contestants. Deanna is locked out of all bedrooms but the rest will have access to beds for sleeping and computer distractions.

The group is so quiet I check twice that I did in fact toggle on full autonomy. No one talks to anyone while they eat… maybe they've run out of goodwill for the day?

Deanna: I just want to say, I know you didn't technically win but I loved your song

Kennedy: Shucks

Deanna: I'm sure one of the challenges will go your way

Kennedy: *blushes* Thanks

Abby: *gets even sadder*

Lara: *decides to comfort eat extra fruit salad*

Kennedy goes to bed early, followed soon by Callie. After doing the dishes Jerrica goes to play on a computer, so does Kay. I guess they all really didn't want to talk. Abby talks! To herself… in the mirror… to cheer herself up so she's excused from the odd behaviour.

Lara: De, can we talk

Deanna: Sure. What's up?

Lara: I'm just feeling bad about our date. I know it didn't go as well as it could have

Deanna: Everyone has off days. And hey we still got closer

Lara: We did! But umm... I wondered if I could try out another song?

Lara serenades Deanna who swoons. Maybe they didn't have a mindblowing date but let's not forget Lara has a solid lead at this point. Although with her solo date for the round done other contestants have room to shine.

Beach venue found on the gallery by Chellsdi Park venue by @ethicaltreatmentofcowplants Villa renovation by @paracosmic-sims

[casdeans-pie]

tagged by @kerryweaverlesbian !! Thanks for the tag! Sorry this took me a million years to reply to!! (see their post here) to.... share the first lines of ten of your latest fanfics (or up to if you have fewer) and tag ten people !

Also I'm sorry I hope it's okay that I'm gonna copy your formatting, because it's so nice and easy to read <3

Cabin of Feathers // Werebird!Cas , Accidental Mates , Secret Identity Shenanigans , Destiel // 51k (wip)

Dean is distantly aware that staying alone in a cabin in the woods is how a lot of horror movies start, but this place seems too nice for it.

Angelic Steel // MichaelSword!Dean , Soft early Destiel // 700

"Am I even human?" Dean wants to sound angry - he wants to sound furious - but his words come out as broken as he feels inside.

Shine For Me // Castiel's Handprint , Fluff , Destiel // 1k

With the grill on, the timer set, and the smells of cheese, onions, and potato filling the kitchen, Dean feels himself relax a little.

Kiss It Better // Castiel experiencing emotions , Early Destiel // 260

The first time Castiel heard the phrase to 'kiss something better' he thought it sounded like a ridiculous notion.

You're My Happy Place // Valentines Fluff , Castiel can hear longing , Early Destiel // 4k

The prospect of a lonely Valentine’s Day feels unusual.

Falling (In Love) // Castiel's Wings , First kisses in a life or death situation , Destiel // 2k (wip)

In terms of ‘situations where escape seems impossible’ Dean would probably rank this at a solid two.

Flicker, Fizzle, Pop // Castiel explodes lightbulbs when he's flustered , Dean pressing his buttons on purpose , Destiel // 9k

The first time it happened, Cas almost convinced Dean that it hadn’t.

Celestial Hum Of Angelic Contentment (not purring) // Castiel purrs , Fluff , Destiel // 350

Dean's hands stilled from where they had previously been carding through Castiel's soft hair, his fingers resting motionless against his scalp. "Cas... Are you purring?"

Angel Erogenous Zones // Suggestive Themes , Making Out , Destiel // 750

It hadn’t been Dean's intention to be kissing Cas against his bedroom door, but as soon as it had slammed shut behind them that’s where they’d ended up.

I'll Carve My Love Into Your Bones // Rib Carvings , Grace/Soul shenanigans , Early Destiel // 2k

Dean's ribs are aching.

--------

Seeing them all in a row like this is so interesting!! I'm not sure that opening lines are something I'm particularly good at now honestly asdhjhgshfj. Some of them are tinyyyyy. I do like the ones that grab you - and make you want to find out more. A couple of them impressed me!

No pressure tagging....

@encyclopika @amynchan @thepagemistress @wanderingcas @youchangedmedestiel @citrinediamondeyes and any other writing friend who wants to play! (Its late here and my brain is no longer working)

[mountainsandmayhem]

Maid Discreetly - Chapter 6

Tommy Miller x Female OC (18+ only)

Story Summary: After what he did to your best friend, fuck Joel Miller and the horse he rode in on! But a twist of fate has you falling for his brother, who is also your dad’s friend. Oh, and did you mention that you hate him? Can love really conquer all, or should you just settle for kinky hot sex with an older man? Chapter Summary: If you're going to be stuck at Tommy Millers, may as well get to know him a bit better. AN: Trigger warnings are underneath the cut in small red letters to avoid spoilers. Please remember to follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates for all future chapters. Divders by @saradika-graphics. As always thank you to @lotusbxtch and @for-a-longlongtime for helping me expand on my ideas and add all my punctuation xo. WC: 4.4k

Story Masterlist || My Masterlist || Joel and Kim

TW: alcohol consumption, playing a drinking game, flirting, mutual pining, mentions of BDSM

You

Tommy wasn’t fucking kidding; this is by far the nicest shower you’ve ever been in. The warmth of the steam settles into your bones as the water hits you from three different gold chrome showerheads; a rainfall one above you, and two more along the wall. You make a mental note of the design in hopes that your dad will renovate your bathroom. You weren’t outside for long, but it was enough to drench you from head to toe, and the cold rain water mixed with the whipping wind was enough to chill every cell in your body. You use Tommy’s pine needle scented soap, and then reach for his shampoo and conditioner. You’re pretty sure Preston just used a bar of soap for everything. At this moment, there’s a crystal clear difference between a boy and a man; a boy has a single bar of soap and maybe a 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner. A man, or at least this man has soap, a body wash, face wash, a loofah, shampoo, and conditioner. 

Unless… 

Is it possible that Tommy isn’t single? Based on what Kim told me about Joel’s past and how he only ever had subs…could the same be true for Tommy? Does he bring women out to his home in the middle of nowhere to dominate them?

The thought of letting a man have control of you makes your stomach turn. Preston was always trying to tell you what to do, who to see, what to wear. About three months into your relationship he started shushing you or cutting you off when you were speaking, and then in private he would tell you what he preferred you’d say in those situations. Your life was steered by your father and then controlled by your boyfriend for almost three years. As you run the sea salt scented conditioner through your hair, you start to think about how what Tommy does is different from what Preston was doing. This is an agreed-upon time and place where you’re told what to do sexually - maybe that is something you could be into. You’ve always prided yourself as being seen as strong and independent, especially after Preston nearly destroyed you. However, the truth of the matter is, when it comes to sex, you are anything but.

Thanks, Preston.

When you’re finally warm and clean, you dry off and put on the clothes Tommy left. You quietly open a few of the drawers looking for a comb or a brush. Again, you’re surprised to find leave-in conditioner, hair and beard oil, a brush, a comb, a plethora of hair products, and, since Tommy’s hair is long enough to need them, a few hair ties. You use the brush and a hair tie to gather your hair into a bun and then head downstairs. 

Tommy is sitting on the couch on the phone, the amber glow of the fire lighting up his face. He’s changed into black joggers and a faded Brooks and Dunn t-shirt. 

“Yeah, the entire road,” he says with a sigh and then mouths ‘your dad’ at you. “Yeah…Of course, Jim. I’m waiting to hear from the county about the damage, but I have lots of food so we’ll wait out the storm.”

You sit on the couch across from him, tucking one leg underneath you, hugging your other knee to your chest as Tommy listens to your dad. “I’ll let her know,” he says with a wicked grin, his eyes dancing mischievously along your face. “Alright, talk soon, bud.”

“Let me know what?” you ask, cocking your head at him.

His grin turns downright devious. “Your dad said to let you know that you are to stay here until the county has deemed the road safe for vehicular traffic.”

You grab one of the decorative pillows beside you and send it flying across the living room at him. “I bet you loved that.”

He tosses the pillow back at you. “Don’t ruin the place, I haven’t hired a maid yet.”

You roll your eyes for what feels like the one hundredth time today, but this time it’s to stop the laugh that’s bubbling up your chest. Tommy Miller is funny, and his sarcasm and smart ass remarks match yours. It’s refreshing to get to joke around with someone and not have to feel like the perfect, meek little house guest. For a second, you let yourself wonder what it would be like to be his girlfriend. The two of you laugh and poke fun at the other so easily, and then he was so soft and supportive in your mother’s butler’s pantry on the Fourth of July. His words from that night rattle around your skull.

“I know we don’t know each other well, but I’m always here.”

Yeah, as a boyfriend, Tommy would be absolutely perfect.

“Hungry?” He asks, pulling you from your thoughts. His phone rings and he pushes the button on the side to send the caller to voicemail. 

“Yes, and a little thirsty. I feel kinda weird asking for water,” You shrug, pulling the pillow that took flight across the room to your chest.

“You don’t need to feel weird about it,” he says, his lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. “You are welcome to anything. If asking is too much for you, you can just get what you need. Whatever is easier for you, sweetheart.” 

Your fingers play with the small zipper pull of the pillow cover. He continues softly when you don’t respond. “We might be here for a bit depending on how long it rains for. May as well make yourself at home.”

You glance towards his kitchen and then back at him and nod. It’s easier to get things for yourself; it always has been. A proper southern girl doesn't ask for things, after all. 

“How about you open the pantry and pick a wine from the cooler and I’ll get everything out to start making dinner?” he suggests. You nod in agreement. On the walk to the kitchen he declines a call again, his phone pings a familiar text tone a few seconds after, but he doesn’t look. You wonder who is calling him and why he keeps ignoring it. Is it an ex? Or maybe he does have a girlfriend? Or does he just want to focus his attention on you? That last thought sends an army of butterflies to riot in your stomach. 

The built-in wine cooler in the pantry is a bittersweet sight. Sweet because it’s full of wines you love: red, white, rose, champagne, all in their own temperature-controlled zone. Bitter because this should be a focal point of the dining room. However, with the big windows and natural light that shines through all day, you assume he had to sacrifice and keep it hidden. Your fingers run along the wrapped corks of the wine. The man you met at the gala didn’t seem like the type to own a corkscrew, nevermind have an entire collection of wines from around the world. 

You peek your head out from the pantry to see what Tommy’s making for dinner. He’s focused on what's in front of him, but as if he can sense you looking, he speaks. 

“Yes?” He asks, his voice lifting as he accentuates the “s”, moving fresh fruits into a strainer. 

“I can’t pick a wine unless I know what’s for dinner,” you laugh, taking in the different meats and cheeses on the island. Your eyes light up. “Oh my god, are we having girl dinner?” 

“It’s going to be a charcuterie board, brat,” Tommy deadpans, keeping his attention on the strawberries, grapes and raspberries as he runs them under water. 

Being called a brat by your dad’s best friend shouldn’t send a thrill down your spine that settles in between your thighs - but it does, and your lack of panties certainly isn’t helping the situation. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Miller,” you joke, the huff of Tommy’s sigh following you back to the wine cooler.

Over the next thirty minutes, Tommy meticulously sets everything onto the wooden board, declines yet another phone call, and brings the food out on the coffee table. You’re on the couch with your glass of wine, another on the table for him. You had offered to help cut up cheese or build the board, but after his refusal and you saying “who knew big, tough Tommy Miller was a girl dinner expert”, he grabbed you by the shoulders, spun you around and led you to the couch with a gravel-filled command to “sit, you little hellraiser”. It shouldn’t make you so happy to pester him, and it definitely shouldn’t make you even happier when he gives it back or takes it with a laugh, but it does. It really fucking does. 

“Ok, I take it back. This board is way too beautiful to be classified as ‘girl dinner’,” you gasp, making little air quotes. “You made prosciutto roses. It’s too pretty to eat!”

He raises an eyebrow at you, sitting a cushion down from you on the couch. “If you plan to keep drinking wine, you are going to eat.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply cheekily.

Tommy clears his throat in response. “What?” you ask when he says nothing.

“N-nothing, I’m going to grab napkins.” He stands a little too quickly for whatever you said in the last few minutes to be normal. You slide from the one corner of the three-sided sectional towards the middle, mostly to be able to reach the food easily, but also because you wouldn’t mind being closer to your dad’s friend. When Tommy returns, he sits beside you and turns the volume up on the episode of the sitcom you have on. 

It’s relatively silent as you eat, the two of you laughing in tandem at the jokes on the TV. You’ve never been allowed to enjoy a dinner like this, casual and fun. If you were at home right now, you’d be sitting at the dining room table, eating a meal your mom didn’t prepare, but did spend way too much money on. The two of them would never have more than one glass of wine each. Even though you’re far past milk-drinking age, there would be a small glass of milk at your spot that you’d be expected to finish before leaving the table. 

The first bottle of wine goes down easily between you and Tommy, and after cleaning up dinner, the second bottle is cracked. You click the volume down slightly. You’re not sure if it’s the wine or being around Tommy, but you’re full of nervous energy and the television is no longer working as a distraction.

“Let’s play a game or something,” you say as Tommy fills your glass. The Pinot Grigio sparkles like yellow diamonds as it flows from the bottle.

“Like what?” he asks, his voice thick with skepticism.

“Hmmm…” You look around the living room shelves, not a deck of cards or any sort of board game in sight. You’ll have to get creative. Your eyes land on your wine glass. “Oh! I know. Let’s play a drinking game.”

Tommy turns towards you, one arm resting on the back of the couch. “A drinking game?”

“Yeah, we say a statement about the other one and if it’s true the other person drinks, if it’s false then you have to drink. I think it was in Game of Thrones, but whatever, it’s fun!”

He raises an eyebrow and time seems to slow as his tongue peeks out from between his lips to wet them. Thank goodness for the large hoodie or he’d see the way your nipples instantly pebbled in hopes of getting to feel just how warm and soft his tongue really is. 

Fuck, that shouldn’t be hot.  

“Alright, sweetheart. You go first then,” He slides back into the corner of his side of the couch and then you do the same on your end. Both of you put your feet up. The couch is fairly long, but in this position your feet could brush against his if you wanted.

“You’ve never been in a long term relationship,” you state. Without hesitation, he takes a drink of his wine.

“You don’t like being told you can’t do something,” he replies and you drink a mouthful of your wine.

“That was obvious,” you say with a smirk. He raises one of his broad shoulders in a shrug.

Don’t classify his shoulders as broad.

When you don’t say your next one, he speaks. “Your turn.”

“I’m thinking, relax,” you rush out, shaking yourself from your thoughts “Oh! You don’t like being called sir, which is why you jumped up for napkins.”

He stares at you intensely for a second, the wheels turning behind his eyes, almost as if he’s unsure if he should lie or not in his response. After a few seconds too many he says, “Drink, hellraiser.”

You glare jokingly at him as you take a sip of wine, his eyes trained on you the entire time. 

“Is this a sipping game or a drinking game?” He challenges. You take a bigger drink of your wine, hoping for praise. You watch as his eyes slide to your throat as you swallow, then back up to your own eyes as he continues playing the game. “You aren’t used to people taking care of you and that’s why you shut down outside my room.”

It’s your turn to stare at him now, and your eyes dance around his face. It’s pitch black outside now, just the amber glow of the fire and the butter yellow light of one lamp to highlight his features. The rain has slowed but still taps soothingly against the glass as it falls. 

He’s right - no one takes care of you like that. Instead, everyone has always just told you what to do and then leaves you to deal with it or to spiral out of control. 

But not Tommy. 

He asked. He supported and understood. He didn’t rub it in your face when you failed. Instead, he wrapped you in a towel and asked you to stay for him. With a shaky hand, you bring your glass to your lips and take a drink. As you do, his foot shifts to touch yours and you feel that urge to curl up on his lap again.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he sends it to voicemail again. 

“You have a phobia of phone calls,” you state, trying to lighten the mood. 

It works, a laugh bubbles from Tommy’s throat. “No, it’s one of my business partners. She’s decided she’s throwing me a birthday party, even though I’m too old for parties, and it’s still four months away. She wants me to answer a bunch of questions.”

“Ah, well, I guess I drink then!” You take a mouthful of wine, your glass nearly empty now. “I think you should do burlesque.”

He slides forward, keeping the foot that’s touching yours glued to you, and refills your wine glass. “I would, but I’m not a fan of how I look in pasties and corsets.”

His joke catches you by surprise and you throw your head back in a laugh. It’s the loud, happy, kind of laugh that Preston used to hate, especially when it would result in a little snort in the middle. Tommy only laughs with you, and then laughs harder when you do indeed snort. 

When you both have yourselves under control, you dab your eyes with the sleeve of the hoodie and say, “I meant for your party. I assume you’re doing it at the club. From what Kim told me, it could be the perfect theme.”

“You know about the club?” he says, topping up his wine glass.

You shrug. “A little bit. She just told me it’s not what you’d expect inside, but I’ve also been there before, Tommy.”

His gaze whips to yours. “What? When?”

“I was a topless waitress at a poker game.” You are suddenly very aware that you are braless right now.

His eyebrows furrow. “I was at that poker game. I don’t know how to feel about this.”

“Well, clearly we didn’t interact with one another, because I didn’t know you at the gala, and from what I gather, you didn’t know me either. So, I guess we don’t really have to feel any way about it.” You flex your ankle forwards, rubbing your foot against his once. 

“Fair enough,” he says, but just before he takes a drink of his wine, he stops with a smirk. “You read a lot of romance books.”

You glare again and take a big mouthful of wine. He definitely hit the nail on the head with that one. “You read a lot of boring business books.”

“Drink,” he says, raising an eyebrow cockily. 

“You don’t know how to read?” you joke.

“That’s two drinks, you want to go double or nothing?”

You should stop; this entire game was a bad idea, but outright flirting with your dad’s friend is worse. Unfortunately, you’re fluent in smart ass and sarcasm. Plus, you’re an Aries.

“The woodworking section of the bookstore hates to see you coming?” you guess.

Tommy laughs and shakes his head. “Drink the entire glass and I’ll show you exactly what I read, hellraiser.”

You don’t need to be told twice. The Pinot Grigio you picked out for tonight goes down easily. You finish the glass with a dramatic ‘aaah’ sound, and then Tommy refills it and stands. You follow him to the only area of the home he didn’t take you in: his office, which he told you wouldn’t need to be cleaned.

He opens one of the frosted glass doors. His desk is straight ahead and when you look to your right, both walls are lined floor-to-ceiling with bookshelves, complete with rolling ladders to help you reach the thousands of books that fill them. At the end of the room is another large window, and a cozy, oversized armchair with an arched lamp above it.

Your breath hitches. This is the dream. A library in a gorgeous log cabin in the woods with an even more gorgeous man to share it with. You start to feel like maybe there was a bigger reason you met Tommy.

Tommy

He watches the way your eyes light up at all the books, waiting for you to realize the genre of most of them. He’s been collecting books for years; not that he’s read every single one he owns, but as a kid he thought having a library in your house meant you had really made it. So, when he moved from building standard homes and into constructing mansions, he found himself with some disposable income and started collecting special editions. 

“I see business books,” you state.

“I believe your statement was ‘you read a lot of business books’. That’s just one shelf among many.”

He stands in the center of the large room as you walk along the far wall of shelves. You slide a book off the shelf and turn to him, the biggest grin on your face as you hold up what you’ve found. “You really did find the one woodworking book available!” 

He gestures around the room. “Did you expect a man who built a log cabin not to have a woodworking book?”

“Touché,” you respond, placing the book back.

As you reach the end of the first set of bookcases, your eyes trail up the metal spiral staircase in front of one of the windows. “That leads to the walk-in closet in my bedroom.”

“Interesting. Why?”

“I work a lot, plus, there’s the reading space up there and it’s just closer this way.”

“Not just a pretty face, are ya?” you deadpan and walk towards his favourite wall of books. You suck in a breath when you realize what you’re looking at. “These are romance novels.”

“You sound surprised,” he says, still rooted in the middle of the room as you walk up along the other side of the library. 

“I am. Have you read all of these?”

“No,” he says with a quiet laugh. “Maybe one day, but I don’t get to read as often as I’d like to.”

“Why romance novels?” you ask. He watches the way your slender fingers trail along the spines of his books, wishing it was his skin you were touching instead. He wonders if you know how much it kills him when you’re just being you. From peeking out the pantry at him tonight, to the little snort when he made you laugh. You’re intoxicating, and he finds himself constantly reminding himself that he can’t have you. 

He shifts his weight, burying one hand in the pocket of his sweat pants and taking a sip of his wine while he contemplates how to answer you, how raw and honest he should be. “I have watched a lot of heartbreak in my life; it’s why I’ve never had a long term relationship and stick to being a dom. That doesn’t mean that I don’t feel lonely sometimes. I use those books as a way to feel connected to something.”

You turn around to face him, your features soft, your lips - which are usually painted a matte red - parted slightly. His heart leaps into his throat at how real you look right now. Your curves swimming in his clothes, your hair now down, air dried and flipped to the side. Your face is make-up free, a small freckle noticeable above your lip. Your expression is curious; bright green eyes wide and encouraging, so he continues.

“Not that I don’t have people I’m connected to,” he explains. “I definitely do, just not in that way. I guess it’s human nature to feel like maybe you’re missing out, even if it’s something you don’t envision for yourself.”

Tommy watches as you walk towards his desk chair, sitting as you say, “That makes sense. We only get one life, but a million options and opportunities, and how do we know if we’ve picked the right one if we can’t go back and try the other? We’ll always wonder what the other options would be like.” He smiles at you softly and you continue, “Thank you for telling me that.”

He nods, then takes another sip of his wine before saying, “Thank you for making me feel comfortable enough to say it.” 

He can’t explain the ease of conversation between the two of you. One minute you’re jabbing at one another, and the next you’re pulling his darkest secrets out of him. It’s just never been this easy before. 

He watches as you pick up a paper on his desk, your eyes trailing down the document. It slowly begins to register what you’re looking at, and it becomes hard for him to breathe.

You look over the paper at him mischievously. “What is this?”

“Absolutely not,” he states firmly. 

Nothing could have prepared him for your response, and it’s almost enough to give him a heart attack. Your voice turns syrupy as you hum, “Remember how I don’t like being told what to do?”

He says your full name, first and last, lowering his voice slightly, “You are not filling that out.”

Your hand reaches for a pen from the cup on his desk as you read aloud. “JMKink checklist for new members. Check off everything you’ve done, or are interested in doing, using the respective boxes. Submissives and Dominates with similar sexual fantasies will be matched via our world-leading algorithm.”

“Don’t you dare,” he grits out, his voice sounding like sandpaper as you hold the pen above the first page.

“Why?” you challenge.

“Because, you’re…you! And my friend's daughter,” he sputters, desperately trying to remind himself - yet again - that this cannot happen, no matter how badly he wants it. No matter how many times his mind wanders to the fact that you aren’t wearing a bra right now. 

Or panties, he reminds himself and then immediately shuts it out. Your lips part as the rim of the wine glass meets them. He catches a glimpse of your tongue before you take a drink, effectively ruining what he was just trying to push out of his mind. 

“Who said I’m filling it out for you?” Your voice is saccharine sweet and coated in innocence.

“Has anyone ever told you that your eyes give you away? I can tell by the look on your face that you’re up to no good, sweetheart.”

You tap the pen on the desk a few times, keeping your eyes locked on his, and fuck, he never wants you to look away. You blink and then take a deep inhale and slowly exhale, putting the pen behind your ear. You stand, taking the paper and your wine glass with you. 

“I’m taking this and going to bed. Do you mind which room I sleep in?”

Mine, preferably. 

“Stop being a brat and put that paper back on my desk.” He mentally nails his feet to the floor. If he moves now, he’ll do what he’s been itching to do since you locked him out of your Jeep earlier. He’ll bend you over that desk and spank you until your cheeks are tattooed with the shape of his hand, then make you read the entire checklist out loud while rubbing your clit, teasing and taunting, making you start over when you stumble and only letting you come when you had finished reading every last word. 

You wander to the still-open door, glancing seductively over your shoulder and whisper, “Good night, sir.” He tries to school his face, but it’s too late; he knows by the raise of the corner of your mouth that you tracked the nearly infinitesimal flare in his eyes as his preferred dom name left your lips. “Now whose eyes are giving them away?”

He stands frozen, straining his ears to hear as you pad up the stairs. When the click of the bedroom door reaches him, he starts counting backwards from one hundred to calm himself. He can’t be trusted to not go up there and break down the door so he can finally get his lips on you. 

[sleeplessdreamer14]

𝔚𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔫’𝔱 𝔚𝔢 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔰 ℑ𝔫 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔄𝔘: 𝔙𝔞𝔤𝔤𝔦𝔢 𝔙𝔢𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔦𝔠𝔞 ℜ𝔢𝔦𝔪𝔞𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔡

I was super excited for this one :] @cosmiiwrites

First things first, LORE AND BACKGROUND

As per usual, I’ll go over the differences between Ronnie and her canon counterpart. First and foremost, I changed her name because her name being Vaggie never sat right with me.

She was an exorcist for a long time, one of the best, and although it could be a bit much for her at times, she ultimately could rest easy knowing she was protecting heaven.

However, five years before the events of the show, she had a moment of weakness during an extermination where she had cornered a young cannibal in an alley. Seeing the young soul cowering in fear from her stayed her hand for just a moment too long, and she got jumped. It was a struggle, and she killed her attackers, but did sustain injury including losing her wings and partial vision in her left eye.

Weakened from the blood loss and weighed down by shame of her failure, she faded in and out of consciousness in that alley for a while before Charlie found her. The exterminations had ended by that time, meaning the army had returned to heaven without her.

Next thing Ronnie knew, she was laid up in one of the spare rooms in Charlie’s home, wounds being tended to with a surprising amount of care. Honestly, she wondered for a few hours if the whole thing was a hallucination of some sort.

Thanks to Charlie and the palace staff, Ronnie made a steady recovery over the course of several months. However the longer she spent healing, the more time she spent sinking deeper into her guilt for failing her sisters. By the time she could walk around on her own again, she didn’t believe she could ever face them again.

But not all was doom and gloom, because Charlie quickly became her new best friend.

oh my gosh they were roommates

Kiki’s her therapy cat.

Ronnie fell first and Charlie fell harder, but she didn’t fall right away. Her feelings began to develop around the time Charlie decided that Ronnie would stay with her full time. Again, they were roommates.

Creamsicle Cat x Black Cat Sapphics

It was certainly an adjustment for Ronnie to not only not be able to fly anymore and have impaired vision, but also not have to train for the exterminations anymore. But living with Charlie, she fell into a new routine and settled into her new lifestyle.

Despite Charlie constantly reassuring her it wasn’t necessary, Ronnie would constantly help out with chores around the place, mostly because it gave her something to do to feel helpful, like she was earning her keep.

She can make a meeeaaan Ropa Vieja 👌🏽

With all her newfound free time, she got into a bunch of new interests and discovered her love for Tim Burton movies (despite the controversy)

As long as you can read a face, you never really have to guess what she’s thinking. She’s got Martin Freeman™️ levels of facial expressiveness.

Ronnie isn’t as agro as Vaggie, but has perfected the “I’m not mad I’m just disappointed” vibe.

Actually gives really good relationship advice despite having never dated before. Coaches don’t play.

Now on the design itself

Her exorcist uniform is much more like actual armor. I also just changed her halo to white just because.

I was partly inspired by @catboymoments to make her skin a bit more purple-ish pink instead of just grey. Also her little beauty mark <3

Her hair did grow out over the time she’s been living with Charlie, but not as long as it is in canon. The way she always sat down on her hair just bugged me for some reason. Also when it’s down it’s feathered.

As cool as her canon bow sometimes resembling horns, I wanted to lean a little more towards the moth motif she had in the earlier concepts so I gave her a simpler one that looks like a butterfly.

And again with all the red. Similarly to how I designed Emma, I wanted to compliment her orange eyes with more purple/wine colors in her work clothes.

I was particularly excited about the striped pants, they just seemed more practical and modest compared to the shirt skirt she wears in the show. (seriously that thing always seemed to be like an inch away from exposing her business) that plus her skull earnings helped lean more into a sort of pirate aesthetic.

The skull earrings were gifts from Charlie for Ronnie’s one year anniversary of them living together.

Now for her causal wear, I wanted to give her a sort of gothic dork type of style so I designed her causal fit partly after my own wardrobe (mostly the shorts and gothic lace tights)

The butterfly on her choker is meant to symbolize her recovery and hope after surviving the attack and her new beginnings with Charlie, as well as be an homage to Encanto.

[fantasticfourthwingimagines]

Right There All Along Pairing - Ridoc Gamlyn x Reader Summary - You're enjoying listening to your friends have some fun by the river when Ridoc decides you're too far away from him. Word Count - 900+ Warnings - None! Pure Fluff.

In the background, you could hear the sound of your friends having a blast. Rambunctious laughter, clinking bottles, Sawyer, who had a surprisingly decent singing voice, and all perfectly slaughtered on alcohol. 

Not you though. After everything that had happened in your childhood, it wasn’t your thing. Still, you wanted to be close to them, to him, so instead you found yourself here, by the riverbank, watching the moon ripple across the surface of the water. 

Until someone plopped down beside you. 

“Hey.” 

You didn’t need to look. Your body always seemed to know when it was Ridoc. He somehow managed to make you relax and tense at the same time. Like your muscles sighed in relief knowing he was here, while your skin sparked with the hope that he might touch you. 

When he did, his shoulder brushing against yours, you turned to look at him. “Hi.” You said, trying not to grin too much. 

Ridoc looked like someone who had lost a mild fight with gravity. His wavy hair was sticking up in multiple directions, like he’d been raking his hands through it, and his shirt was half untucked. His eyes though, bright, mischievous, and a little glassy, were locked on you. 

He let out a long, dramatic sigh, and you had to bite back a giggle as he leaned over to put his head on your shoulder. “I missed you.” 

Your breath caught, just for a second. He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, no idea what those words did to your heart. “I was like ten feet away, Rid.” You said, but your body betrayed you, curling even closer to his side like it had missed him too. 

“That’s eleven feet too far.” He mumbled.

 Your heart absolutely melted. 

Honestly, you agreed. If you could, you’d be plastered to this man’s side every moment of the day, but you didn’t want him to think you were clingy. “You’re ridiculous,” you said, with the most stupid, giddy smile on your face. 

“It’s pronounced Ridoc actually,” He said, moving away from your shoulder so he could give you a mock-scolding look, “and as my girl, you should know that.” 

Your whole body went still. 

My girl. 

You blinked at him, lips parting slightly. He’d never called you his girl before. Not like that. 

“Your girl?” You repeated, your heart starting to race. 

Ridoc paused, the grin slipping as he seemed to register what he said. His ears turned a little pink. “Well I mean there’s probably a better word for it . . . You’re more than my best friend. I feel like you’re just . . . mine.” 

His words shouldn’t have made sense, but somehow they did. They made all the sense in the world. Ridoc was way more than a best friend to you. He'd taught you how to breathe again. He'd taught you how to laugh even when the world felt impossible. He’d made you believe in yourself more than you ever thought possible. He was the bright sun coaxing you out of your darkness. In such a short time, he’d become everything to you. 

However, you couldn’t help but wonder how he felt. Did he see you the way you saw him, or were you another light in a constellation of people who loved him? “Are you mine?” You voice barely a whisper, coated in hope and insecurity. 

He said your name, smiling that crooked, heart wrenching smile as he reached up to brush a stray hair from your face. “I’ve been yours since the parapet. I’ve just been waiting for you to play catch up.” 

That long? He couldn’t have . . . But there was nothing in his eyes but sincerity (and a little bit of alcohol). “Ridoc,” you whispered his name, and all of the sudden, he was right there. So close that if you tilted your head your lips would brush. 

“I want to kiss you. And not because I’m drunk-” Ridoc said before you could say anything. “I want to kiss you because I’ve been dying too for months. Every time you look at me like that, like I’m worth something, it makes me want to lose my damn mind.” 

Your heart felt like it had dropped into your stomach. Butterflies flooded your chest as he looked down at your lips, and then back at your eyes. The heady scent of him, a warm breeze on a summer afternoon, orange and cyprus, flooded your senses, and your hands, seeming to have a mind of their own, found their way to the sides of his jacket, fisting the fabric like it was the only thing grounding you. “You can.” You whispered, breathless. “I want you too.” 

His nose bumped yours, soft and tentative, and your breath caught as your eyes fluttered shut - 

WHOOSH. 

Then there was a gust of wind, the beat of wings, and a cascade of cold water rained down on you both. 

“You dick!” Ridoc shouted, jerking to his feet. You jumped up to, grabbing his waist to steady him when he swayed. 

Above, Aotrom flew off with a delighted chortle. 

Ridoc jabbed a finger in the air after him. “I’m going to get you for this!”  

You started laughing, soaked and breathless, your heart still racing from the almost. “You do realize you two are the same person, right?” 

“I would never interrupt him when he was about to start making out with his dream girl!” Ridoc yelled after him, still glaring. 

This man was going to give you a complex if he didn’t stop with the compliments. “Oh we were about to start making out?” You teased, ignoring the second part of his statement. 

“We were.” Ridoc said, without missing a beat. “But hey, this just builds anticipation for the next time.” 

The smirk he gave you should have been illegal. 

You bit your lip, already imagining when the next time would be and praying to Dunne nothing would stop it.

[ruhitsblog]

OVERTAKEN STARDOM

I’m fat. Not chubby, not round, not “cuddly.” I am obese. It’s not something I have ever tried to hide, or deny. My body is my body, and I accept it for what it is. But it makes acting difficult. The fact that I don’t even *try* to look attractive doesn’t help either. I wear ratty clothes that hang off me, and a cap over my messy hair. I’ve always been this way; when I was younger, I worked in factories or warehouses. Now, though, I work as a janitor at a movie studio. A low-key job for a low-key person.

I wish that I could say I love my job, but it’s just work. It’s not fulfilling. And it’s boring. So very boring. I don’t have any real friends here, because people don’t really talk to me. They might nod as we pass each other in the hallway, but they don’t try to get to know me.

The only good thing about my job is watching the actors rehearse their scenes. It’s the highlight of my day. Especially if there’s an action scene. Or a dramatic monologue. Even seeing them block out the choreography for a dance number gets me excited.

I want to act.

It’s a pipe dream. I know that I’ll never get a chance to be on screen. And even if I did, who would want to see my face? I wouldn’t want to see my own face up there.

But still... sometimes, late at night when I’m lying awake, I imagine myself being up on that stage. Delivering those lines. Dancing through that fight scene.

Of all the actors I watch, I think about KJ Apa the most. He plays the role of our main character: the dashing hero of the story. I can’t believe how handsome he is! He’s lean and muscular, with thick black hair that frames his heart-shaped face. His skin is smooth and perfect, unblemished by even a single scar. His lips curve in a perpetual smile, even when he’s playing a sad scene. And his eyes are bright blue. Bright enough to blind you if you stare at them too long.

KJ has a bad reputation here. He shows up late. He forgets his lines. Sometimes he doesn’t bother to memorize them at all. He’s always distracted. Always messing around with the crew, or his co-star (the lovely Camila Mendes). He’s always getting scolded by the director. He just laughs it off, and keeps going.

One time, he showed up drunk during rehearsals. Another time, he fell asleep in his chair while they were filming. Everyone here loves him anyway, and I can understand why. There’s something so charming about him, even though he seems completely irresponsible.

And then there are the times when he shows up naked. Sometimes, he’s fully naked. Other times, he just has his shirt off, or maybe just his pants. Once, I saw him with his pants down, his bare ass hanging out for everyone to see.

No one seems to care. In fact, they seem to enjoy it. Everyone laughs, and the camera operators start snapping pictures on their phones. I’ve seen the director grope his butt a few times too.

I’m not sure what to make of it.

Last week, the director announced that filming would stop early. A couple of hours later than usual, but still early. No one complained; we’re all excited for the holiday coming up. As soon as the announcement came over the intercom, people started packing up. After the shoot as I was works ng I found kj apa's locker room open them I found his muskky and sweaty jacket I was so arrowsed of his smell that I slipped naked and tried to put his small jacket on my huge body but as I  to put it I noticed that my body seems to adjust to its size and I felt strange like I was loosing weight and gaining blonde hair on my bald head and muscle mass and all of my fat was disappearing in seconds and my dick was becoming larger too I was feeling my bones cracking and popping as my body was adjusting to its new form and I look at the mirror

and I saw not the reflection of the old fat man I used to be I saw the beautiful young man that kj apa is and his face was mine but I still had my memories and personality. I looked in horror as I realized that I became into kj apa without a trace of my former self.

I knew that I had to act like him but I don't know if I can do it but as i look in the mirror again I notice that my eyes were different, they were darker and more intense than before, I knew that this will help me to pull off his act. So I decided to try and see what happened.

As I walk outside the building I was stopped by several crew members and directors they asked me where the hell I've been and that I missed the last scene but I didn't knew what to say so I apologize for missing it and I promised that won't happen again. And then the director told me that we'll be doing a re-shoot tomorrow and that I need to learn my lines better because yesterday was a disaster. I knew that this would be harder than I thought. But I decided that I would give it my best shot.

I went home and spend the night trying to learn my lines and reading the script over and over again. I barely slept at all. By dawn, my head was throbbing from lack of sleep, but I still had all the lines memorized.

When I got to the set that morning, I was ready. I walked confidently onto the soundstage, waving at everyone. They greeted me back cheerfully, and everything seemed normal.

For the first few scenes, everything went fine. I delivered my lines perfectly, and the director gave me high praise. Everything was working exactly as planned. I was able to mimic KJ’s mannerisms and speech patterns pretty well. And with his handsome face and body, I couldn’t ask for anything more.

But then things started to go downhill.

I began to feel horrny after seeing so many beautiful actress so I finished my lines and grabbed some girls  and let them to my trailer and starts to fuck them so hard that they moan and begged for more as u cummed into them I realised that this was the life I wanted and not the life of an old man.

I had to take a break to get changed into a new outfit. As I left the set, I saw the director talking to Camila (my co-star) in hushed tones. They were both looking at me worriedly. I didn’t understand why.

When I got to my trailer, I realized that I’d forgotten my script in the dressing room. I turned around and headed back. That’s when I saw KJ Apa unconscious there. Naked, with his dick hanging out. My dick. *My* dick

I hid him under the bed then I packed him in a big bag and carried to my new home and tied him in the basement there can't be two kj apa , I am the only real kj apa

  Days went by and kj apa wake up and understood everything but the fake kj apa rapped him every day and let him suck his own cock then he fucked him deep and fast making him scream in agony

   Months passed and the real kj apa lost his mind and became the sex slave of the fake one and the movie was a great success and no one noticed any changes in the actor and he kept fucking women every day. And no one noticed anything.

Years went by and the fake kj apa got married with Camila mendes and he kept fucking her and making her pregnant every year and he became one of the biggest stars in hollywood and he never stop fucking women and he never stop fucking the real kj apa his sex slave.

   And the real kj apa died alone in the basement of the fake kj apa house and his body was buried in the backyard where he built a new toilet for humiliating him and  no one never found

[lovergirl-co]

Get to know these characters!!

For one of my favorite fics I think I’m gonna write.

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Stripper Reader X Abby Anderson

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CASSIE. aka: Cherry— on stage.

Cassie loves you TO DEATH. She would litterally kill for you. The first time you two met was behind stage. In changing rooms. The interaction went something like::

“Is that guy Tommy is is always grabbing up on you too or just me?” You chewed on your lip asking a random girl getting ready besides you

The tan skinned girl peeekd over her shoulder “Holy shit, youre new arn’t you?” You nervously nodded your head “Okay, one thing you should know is that Tommy always touches up on the newbies, once you stay for a while he’ll get bored of you and just roll eyes. But he pays hella good money. $100 tips everyday”

“But if yiu ever have problems with him , just let me or any other dancers know. We will handle it”

“Ohh… okay…” you chuckled putting everything she said together in your head. “Im cherry..” she paused “well, my real name is Cassie.” She smiled big at you.

Once you told her your name you guys instantly clicked.

୨ৎ

SADIE. aka: Star— on stage

Sadie is from southern Texas. Former doctor in America before she quit her job cause she said it was too difficult, her dad hated her for that.

She was kicked out at 19 and forced to live on her own. Tragic.

She has a STRONG accent. I mean like, she can’t even say oil.

“—and then I put this owl in my hair for the shine” Cassie told another dancer. Everybody giggled “say oil one more time f’me?” You smirked as you put on mascara in the cracked vanity mirror, which was running on three light bulbs and a wire.

Sadie sighed “i said owl” then all the dancers started to laugh agian.

She was mad that whole day after.

One day when everybody was hanging out at your apartment, she played the guitar for you guys. She was talented in many ways, bummer she turned out to be a this way.

୨ৎ

DINA. aka: Cupid— on stage.

Dina is your best friend. You’ve known her since childhood, she knew yiu had family problems,but not so bad where you showed up to her doorstep mascara smeared down your face, explaining how your whole fucking family hates you. Ecsepically your mom.

She’s the one who got you into this job.

“Okay crazy idea, and youre probably gonna hate it” she paused the terrifer movie you were watching, ice cream in hand.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at her “what?”

Then she asked you to be a part of her job since they were hiring. At first you were offended, but then took in consideration how much they make. You said yes.

୨ৎ

Ally. aka: Aurora— on stage

Former ballerina turned stripper.

She got caught once doing drugs in the back ally of her ballet class. Then her whole life was gone. Cause everyone knows ballerinas are perfect. They don’t smoke, or drink, or do bad stuff.

And she always somehow managed to be the sweetest person ever.

Forgot makeup at home? Take her whole makeup bag. Didnt bring the right lace set? Wear hers. Chipped a nail? She carries her nail files around like a gun.

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A/N:: lmk if you wanna be on the tag list and if you’re excited😏