#i really could see them being friends alright

[leighsartworks216]

could I request it being the first time ur in a relationship for valentine's and youre not sure how to make it special for sylus because you've never celebrated before ? :)

My First Valentine

Sylus x gn!Reader

I wrote most of this today even tho the request came in a week ago 💀 sorry

Warnings: fluff, anxiety, nervousness, embarrassment, kissing, gift giving, flowers, Valentine's Day, insecurity, declarations of love, established relationship, pet names, reader is implied as being shorter/smaller than Sylus

Word Count: 1,922

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'45 Fun And Romantic Valentine's Day Date Ideas!' '13 Fun Valentine's Day Activities!' '25+ Romantic Things To Do This Valentine's Day!'

You sigh, closing yet another tab of holiday ideas. You don't know how many websites you've looked at now, all of them promising fantastic gifts or experiences, sure to sweep your partner off their feet. But none of them felt good enough. Not for Sylus.

All your life, Valentine's Day was another lonely day. Your friends and their partners would be out and about or getting together at home, and you'd be stuck in pjs, eating ice cream and watching the same cheesy rom-coms as the year before. The most you'd ever gotten out of the day was in school, when you'd get those little themed cards with a heart-shaped lollipop poked through them.

Now that you have a partner, every single thing you come across feels too cheesy, or like something he wouldn't be into. Not to mention, anything you could possibly buy, he could get on his own with his gobs of money.

Go on a trip? He owns his own private jet; he could go anywhere anytime.

Buy him flowers? More likely than not, they'd wilt twice as fast in the darkness of the N109 Zone.

Dinner at a restaurant means you'd have to find some really fancy place to suit his tastes to make sure he has a nice time. Cooking something yourself could hardly compare to his professional private chef's cooking.

You could get him some vinyls, but you'd hate to get him a duplicate. Weapons? Well, he's got that covered; he deals them.

Asking Luke and Kieran is a non-starter when they're equally as likely to give you good advice as fake advice that would make you look foolish.

You can't fathom how your friends make it look so easy to make plans for the day and get gifts for their partners. Though, you suppose, none of them are dating a multi-billionaire (if not multi-trillionaire or more) crime boss.

You sigh and close your laptop with a snap. What does Sylus enjoy that you can treat him to as a special holiday treat? Something you can feasibly accomplish before the actual day rolls around? Something other than a cheap visit to the arcade or the cat cafe...

Wait... Actually...

Sylus knows you live in rather modest means. He always insists you pay with his black card so you're not stressing about going broke. Why would he suddenly expect you to dish out wads of cash now on a trip or gift? Anything you give him - even if it's a cheap toy from the dollar store - he'd cherish like a gem.

And that's when the idea forms.

With all the preparations written down, you text him, bubbling with energy.

Syyyy

You seem rather playful all of a sudden. What's got you excited, kitten?

You can tell all that from one word??

No, I can tell all that because I know you

Awe 🥺 stop being so cute

Anyway!! I actually wanted to tell you that I have Valentine's Day all worked out!

Oh?

But it's a secret!

Well now I'm interested. What do I need to do for these plans of yours?

Just show up at my place at nightfall on the day of :3

That's it? Why do I feel like I'm being lured into a trap?

Oh yeah the worst trap of all a doting partner who wants to pour all their love on you

Alright. I'll see you then, kitten

But don't think I'll be showing up empty handed

I'd be concerned if you did ngl

Ily <3333333 Goodnighttt

Goodnight, sweetie. I love you too

-

For how simple your plan is - or perhaps because of how simple your plan is - you've never been more nervous in your life. You've double and triple checked everything, made sure he'll be comfortable and not too disappointed with what you've come up with, and second-guessed yourself several times about whether this is actually a good idea.

Not that it matters. You'd be really down to the wire to come up with something new now.

You pace the living room, wringing your hands together, chewing your lip, fussing with your hair. You feel like a dog excited to see its owner when you hear a patterned knock on the door. So excited you nearly trip over the corner of a blanket in your haste to answer it.

Sylus is there to greet you, an easy grin on his face and softened eyes. A large bouquet that you'd drown in rests deceptively small in the crook of his arm. A bag hangs from his other hand, but he sets it down when you step into the hall to hug him.

He chuckles fondly, squeezing you tightly to him and kissing your head. "You look cozy," he teases playfully. His fingers tug at the back of your pajamas.

You laugh nervously as you step back. "Ah, yeah. It's part of the stuff I planned, actually."

He quirks an eyebrow. "I'm a bit overdressed."

"Don't worry! I got you some!" Your face grows hot. You feel like an idiot, flustered and inexperienced. "Come in, so I can explain better."

You take the bouquet from his arm. It's full of your favorite flowers, their delightful aroma tickling your nose as you carry them into the kitchen to look for a vase. You have to rely on your muscle memory to move around; they completely block your vision. Sylus follows in after you with his bag, peering around the little space of your apartment. He'd offered to get you a bigger one, once. Somewhere with a view, soundproof walls, and all the upgraded appliances you ogled in the stores. But you refused, and he respected that, even if it meant being inconvenienced by the lack of space for someone of his size.

His eyes land on the couch, covered in blankets of all sizes. Various DVDs cover the coffee table alongside a neatly folded pair of pajamas. It's cluttered, but purposefully so, as if the mess has been built into the experience.

You find a vase (bought after the first time he bought you flowers that you had to divvy up between various drinking cups) and settle the bouquet on the small dining table. There's no room left for two people to eat there. You come back out looking a mite more disheveled than before.

You smile awkwardly up at him, eyes flickering from his face to your setup as you rock back and forth on your feet. "So! Um, I've never actually had a partner to celebrate Valentine's Day with before, so I used to get a bunch of ice cream, maybe some takeout, and I'd just spend the night on the couch with a bunch of cheesy rom-coms. And now we're together and I didn't know what I could do because you can have anything you want at any given moment. But, um, I just thought, for my first Valentine's Day with someone, I could... share my 'tradition' with you." You exhale a shaky breath. "I know it's probably not what you were expecting..."

"Sweetie," he gently interrupts your rambling. He sets the bag on the couch, then closes the space between you, holding your face in both his hands, urging you to meet his eyes. They shine with something warm and sweet, like cherry wine. "It's not what I was expecting, but it's better than anything I could have imagined."

You scoff. "You're just saying that."

He shakes his head. "I can't buy a tradition, sweetie. This is something that means a lot to you. I'm fortunate enough to be the one person who gets to share it with you; no amount of money could do that."

Your heart feels light. It floats around your chest like a balloon filled with helium. Butterflies flutter in your stomach to join in on the fun. Is this how your friends felt with their partners? It's addicting. You try to blink away the incoming tears before they can form.

"What did you bring?" you ask suddenly, redirecting the conversation away so you can have a chance to gather yourself.

Fortunately, he lets you have it. With a knowing smirk, he kisses your forehead and steps away back to the couch. You miss the proximity immediately.

He pulls out each item one by one, holding it up to show you. "Wine. I can't say anything about how it'll taste, but the label was pretty, so I thought you'd like it." He sets it on the coffee table.

"You mentioned that you liked to go to the store the day after to buy the discounted candy. Well, it wasn't discounted, but I grabbed a variety." Those remain in the bag, but he has to shift it all around to reach something at the bottom.

He seems the most proud of - and the most nervous for - this one. He glances over at you before he pulls it out, as though double checking he has your attention. From the bag comes a hoodie, that he holds by the shoulders to let it unfold. It's nothing too special to look at, but the size is what strikes you. When he holds it up, it's clearly the perfect size for him. His ears tinge pink as he holds it out for you.

"You complained once that I don't have any hoodies for you to steal, like other couples do," he reminds you, voice soft and vulnerable.

He watches carefully as you step forward and reach out to feel the material. It's soft. So soft. You take it into your arms. The familiar scent of Sylus wafts up from the fabric; his body wash, his cologne, him. You hold it up to your nose to smell it better as you look up at him in awe.

"I wore it for a couple days," he admits. "If you don't like it, I can-"

"I love it." You really are going to cry now. You step forward, clinging the hoodie to your chest as he wraps his arms around you. "Sy, this means so much to me. I'm never gonna be able to take it off."

He chuckles. His arms squeeze you just a bit tighter, pull you a bit closer. "I'm glad. You're my first Valentine, too."

You pull back enough to look up at him. Your eyes are glassy, surprise to earnest on your face. "Wha- Really?"

"You sound surprised."

"Well, I mean, I just- You're so... you. That's a compliment, by the way."

"I was waiting for the right partner," he says with a huff of laughter. He dips his head down, soft lips capturing yours in a meaningful kiss. When he speaks again, it's in soft murmurs between kisses. "I'll go change... into the pajamas you got me... and then... we can watch... your movies."

The butterflies are back in full force. Each kiss has them flittering about, doing swoops and swirls in your stomach, wings tickling your insides. "Okay... Mm, but, stay here a bit longer..."

He smiles against your lips, hands sliding up your body to hold your face as he tilts his head, yearning to taste more of you, feel more of you. "Love you, sweetheart..."

You blindly set the hoodie on the arm of the couch to hold his fancy shirt in both hands, drawing him closer, knuckles brushing against the defined muscle beneath the fabric. "I love you, Sylus... Mm, so much... so much..."

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one @always-just-red @22carolina08 @lunaizhere @sine-nomine0 @beautifulthingsiadore @lalaluch @burningtrashgentleman

[forcaleb]

a picture worth sharing — caleb

warnings — fluff, childhood friends to lovers (kind of, it's implied)

notes — i think childhood friends to lovers is one of my favorite tropes in the books and fics // tags: @aomiiine @sydneybee @tojicide

caleb taps your shoulder, trying to show you a picture on his phone. “hey, pip-squeak, do you remember when-”

you quickly cut him off. “nope! no, i don’t. i actually don’t know what you’re talking about.” you turn your head away, refusing to look at his phone, already suspecting it’s something embarrassing.

“you didn’t even let me finish,” caleb says, a pout evident on his lips. “come on, i promise it’s something good. you’ll love it.”

“no way! the last time you tried showing me something, it was an embarrassing picture of me as a kid!” you grimace, recalling the picture of you crying because you fell off a slide. caleb had snapped the shot with your grandma’s phone before tending to your scraped knee. “i’m not looking at whatever you’re about to show me.”

“hey, i swear it’s nothing embarrassing this time,” caleb promises. “it’s actually a picture of us from your graduation day.”

that piques your interest. “huh? really? where? i haven’t seen my graduation pictures in so long.” you reach for caleb’s phone, but instead of handing it to you, he raises it out of reach. “hey! i thought you wanted to show it to me!”

“yeah, but aren’t you going to apologize for… whatever that was just now?” caleb raises an eyebrow.

you groan. “ugh, fine. i’m sorry for assuming you were going to be mean to me. forgive me? pretty please?” you give him the classic puppy eyes, his ultimate weakness.

“pip-squeak…” caleb sighs, shaking his head. “alright, i give up. here, look.”

he shows you his phone, and your eyes widen at the sight of the picture. it is a picture of you and caleb together during your graduation day. you stand just in front of caleb, your body angled slightly toward the camera. you are holding a bouquet of sunflowers in both hands, your face lit up with a warm, cheerful smile. behind you, caleb stands slightly to your side, his posture relaxed and confident. one of his hands rests gently on your shoulder, a subtle gesture of support and closeness. 

“cute, isn’t it?” he asks, grinning.

“how have i never seen this picture before?” you exclaim.

“well…” caleb smiles mischievously. “i made sure the photographer didn’t upload this to the graduation album. that way, i could surprise you with it anytime, like now.”

“wait, was it the photographer or one of your friends from the academy? i remember you coming to my graduation with a friend... gideon, right?” you ask, recalling how gideon kept teasing caleb about being so smitten with you.

“hm… well, it’s both, actually.” caleb points out. he swipes left and shows another version of the photograph. except, this time it’s a different shot. in this image, you are posing playfully in front of caleb, tilting your head to the side with a big, joyful smile. you raise one arm high in the air in an energetic and carefree gesture, adding a lively and cheerful tone to the scene. caleb stands behind you, his body angled slightly toward you, wearing a relaxed smile. his expression is calm and gentle, complementing your vibrant energy. “this is the one gideon took, and the previous one was taken by the photographer.”

“why didn’t you send these to me before?” you whine. “i could’ve used one for that empty photo frame I’ve been keeping in a box for a whole year.”

“okay, okay, i’ll send them now.” caleb chuckles as he opens your text thread and sends both pictures. “see? told you it wasn’t anything embarrassing.”

“yeah, yeah. i’m sorry for assuming the worst.” you apologize again, narrowing your eyes at him. “but from now on, you’d better send me any photos of us together. don’t you dare hide them from me again.”

“sure,” caleb agrees easily, his grin turning playful. “as long as i get to keep the silly pictures of you.”

“caleb! don’t you dare!” you shout, smacking his arm, while he laughs, clearly enjoying your reaction.

[amethystarachnid]

So I saw a post on Pinterest and I thought it would be a good idea for a fanfic?im just gonna type it out and explain it after

Peter: im back from my trip i got you another magnet mr.white wolf

Bucky:cool stick it on

-

Tony: is that peters shopping list on your arm?

Bucky: yea

Tony: what the

-

Tony: Peter you need to stop using buckys arm as a fridge

Peter: Mr. White wolf said it helps him associate the arm with something other than murder

Tony: crying

So basically I was wondering if you could do this well not this interaction but like reader and Bucky are friends and reader is Peter? If that makes any sense?

STICKERS

⤷ JAMES B. “BUCKY” BARNES

ᯓ★ Pairing: James B. “Bucky” Barnes x teen!gn!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: platonic, fluff

ᯓ★ Word count: 2.5k (I'm so sorry if it's too short, hope you like it anyway)

ᯓ★ Summary: Bucky always lets you stick stickers to his vibranium arm but had never told you why...until now.

ᯓ★ I hope I understood the request well, and I tried to make the reader gender neutral since it wasn't specified in the ask, hope you like it <3

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests open)

ᯓ★ Masterlist

ᯓ★ If you are a Charles Xavier fan click on this link!

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language and this isn’t proof read

The hum of the compound is familiar by now. Machines whir softly in the background, the faint scent of coffee lingers in the air, and somewhere in the distance, you can hear Sam and Tony bickering over something that probably doesn’t matter. This is home—at least, as close as it gets. It wasn’t always, but things changed. The world changed, and you had to change with it.

Being here is better than being out there. You know that much. The compound is safer. It’s structured. Sure, it’s a little weird living with a bunch of Avengers, but it beats the alternative. When SHIELD fell apart, a lot of things got messy, including your life. No family, no place to go, just a kid caught in the middle of something bigger than them. Steve found you first, said they’d figure something out, and now, somehow, you’ve ended up here. Officially, you’re under the Avengers’ protection. Unofficially, you’re the compound’s resident stray.

“Alright, what is it this time?”

Bucky’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, and you glance up from where you’ve been hunched over the kitchen counter, fidgeting with a fresh roll of stickers. He’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed, looking at you with an exasperated sort of fondness.

You grin. “You make it sound like I’ve done something bad.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Haven’t you?”

“Depends on your definition of ‘bad,’” you say, tearing off a small sticker shaped like a cat. Without hesitation, you reach out and press it to the cool vibranium of his forearm. It sticks perfectly, just like you knew it would.

Bucky sighs like a man who has known deep suffering. “Why do you keep doing this?”

“Because you let me,” you answer simply, peeling off another sticker—this one shaped like a tiny watermelon slice—and placing it beside the first.

It’s true. You started doing this months ago, fully expecting him to shut it down after the first few times. He never did. The first time, it had been a dumb impulse, something to break the tension. You’d been talking, and without really thinking about it, you’d stuck a star-shaped sticker onto his arm. He’d given you a long, unreadable look but hadn’t peeled it off. That was all the encouragement you needed.

Now, it’s a habit. Every time you see him, you add a new one. Sometimes, he’ll pretend not to notice. Other times, he’ll act put-upon, like he’s carrying some great burden. You know better, though. If he really hated it, he wouldn’t still be standing here, letting you decorate his arm like it’s an elementary school art project.

“I let you do a lot of things,” he mutters, watching as you place a little frog next to the watermelon.

“And that’s why you’re my favorite,” you say, grinning.

“Steve’s gonna be hurt,” he points out.

“Steve’s got enough fans,” you reply, reaching for another sticker. This one’s a smiley face with sunglasses. You stick it on his wrist.

Bucky glances down at his arm, then back at you. His expression softens—just a little. “Y’know, people used to be scared of me.”

“Yeah, well,” you say, adding a rainbow to his forearm, “they clearly weren’t looking hard enough. You’re a giant teddy bear.”

He scoffs, but there’s no real heat behind it. “A ‘teddy bear’ with a metal arm and a kill count.”

“Even teddy bears have claws,” you say, shrugging. “Besides, you let a teenager put stickers on you. That automatically lowers your intimidation factor.”

Bucky huffs but doesn’t argue. You know he won’t take them off. He never does, at least not right away. Sometimes, hours later, you’ll spot him across the compound, still wearing them.

That’s enough for you.

It doesn’t take long for the others to notice.

The first one to point it out is Sam.

You’re both sitting in the common room, Bucky on the couch, you curled up on the opposite end, sorting through a new pack of stickers you got from a store Tony let you raid on a supply run. They’re good ones, too—holographic, shimmery, some even glow in the dark. You’re in the process of carefully placing a tiny raccoon on Bucky’s wrist when Sam strolls in, eyes scanning the room before landing on the two of you.

His brows pull together. “Uh, what the hell is that?”

Bucky, who has clearly mastered the art of selective ignorance, doesn’t look up from his book. You, however, grin and wave. “What’s what?”

“That,” Sam says, pointing at Bucky’s arm like it personally offended him.

Bucky finally sighs, lowering his book just enough to glare over the top of it. “You’re gonna have to be more specific, man.”

Sam narrows his eyes and gestures again. “That. The stickers. What am I looking at?”

You lean back, admiring your work. By now, Bucky’s metal arm is covered in a vibrant mess of stickers—cartoon animals, little hearts, a glittery UFO, and even a miniature Avengers logo you’d snuck in just for fun.

You beam. “Art.”

Sam blinks. He looks at Bucky, then back at you, then back at Bucky. “And you’re just…letting them do this?”

Bucky shrugs. “Yeah.”

Silence. Sam stares, mouth opening and closing like he wants to say something but can’t find the words. Eventually, he just lets out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Man, you really are getting soft.”

Bucky flips him off without looking up.

You take that as permission to add another sticker—a rainbow-colored star, right on his shoulder.

Sam shakes his head, muttering something under his breath before grabbing his drink from the fridge and heading out, still looking vaguely disturbed by what he just witnessed.

Of course, Sam being Sam, the moment he’s out of the room, you know he’s going to tell the others.

The next one to comment on it is Natasha.

You’re sitting at the kitchen counter, helping yourself to a bowl of cereal, when she walks in. She nods at you in greeting before grabbing a protein bar from the cabinet. It’s a normal morning, nothing out of the ordinary—until she glances at Bucky and does a double-take.

She tilts her head slightly. “Did you get in a fight with a Lisa Frank notebook?”

You nearly choke on your cereal.

Bucky, who is now used to this reaction, doesn’t even blink. “No.”

Natasha takes a bite of her protein bar, studying him. “Then why does your arm look like a kindergarten art project?”

Bucky doesn’t answer, so you take it upon yourself. “Because I put them there.”

Natasha arches an eyebrow. “And he let you?”

“Obviously,” you say, popping another spoonful of cereal into your mouth.

She’s quiet for a moment, her sharp gaze flicking from you to Bucky. You half-expect her to make a snarky comment or tease him, but instead, she just hums and says, “Huh.”

And then she reaches into her pocket, pulls out a tiny cat magnet, and sticks it to his forearm before walking away like nothing happened.

Bucky stares after her, brow furrowed. He lifts his arm slightly, looking at the magnet now clinging to the vibranium.

You snort. “You’re officially a walking fridge.”

He groans.

It only gets worse from there.

A few days later, Steve notices.

You’re in the gym, watching Bucky and Steve spar while pretending to be invested in a book. In reality, you’re mostly waiting for them to finish so you can rope Bucky into watching a movie with you.

Steve circles Bucky, eyes narrowed in concentration. He throws a punch, which Bucky easily dodges. There’s a beat of silence before Steve suddenly drops his stance, frowning.

“…Are those stickers?”

Bucky sighs. “Jesus Christ.”

Steve squints, stepping back to get a better look. “They are.” His frown deepens. “And…are those magnets?”

You bite back a laugh.

Bucky glares at you like this is somehow your fault (which, to be fair, it is).

Steve crosses his arms. “You’ve been walking around like this?”

“Yes.”

“And you just…let them do it?”

“Yes.”

Steve blinks, clearly struggling to process this information. You can practically see the gears turning in his head, trying to reconcile the image of his best friend, ex-Winter Soldier, walking around covered in colorful stickers and fridge magnets.

Eventually, he just sighs. “You’re impossible.”

Bucky smirks. “Took you this long to figure that out?”

Steve shakes his head, clearly exasperated, but doesn’t push the subject further.

You take that as a win.

Tony’s reaction is arguably the best.

You’re in the lab with Bucky, keeping him company while Tony messes around with something that looks vaguely explosive. He’s in the middle of rambling about some new upgrade for Bucky’s arm when he abruptly stops mid-sentence.

His eyes narrow. “Hold on.”

Bucky tenses. “What?”

Tony steps closer, squinting at his arm. He lifts a finger and flicks one of the magnets, watching as it wobbles slightly before settling back into place.

“…Are you kidding me?”

Bucky groans. “Not you too.”

Tony bursts out laughing. “Oh, this is rich. You—you’ve been walking around like this? Just letting them stick things to you?”

“Yes,” Bucky says flatly.

Tony looks at you, still grinning. “You did this?”

You nod proudly. “Yep.”

He lets out an impressed whistle. “Wow. I gotta say, Barnes, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Are you done?”

Tony pretends to consider. “Nope.”

Bucky mutters something under his breath and turns to leave, but before he can make his escape, Tony suddenly grabs a Stark Industries magnet from his workbench and slaps it onto Bucky’s bicep with a satisfied smirk.

Bucky glares at him. “I hate you.”

Tony winks. “No, you don’t.”

You snicker as Bucky stomps out of the lab, now sporting a Stark-branded magnet.

Despite the teasing, Bucky never takes them off right away.

Sometimes, you’ll catch him absentmindedly running his fingers over a sticker while he’s reading or training. Other times, you’ll see him glance down at his arm, something soft and unreadable in his expression before he quickly schools his face back into neutrality.

You don’t push. You don’t have to.

He lets you do this because he knows it makes you happy. Because he knows it makes you feel safe.

And, maybe—just maybe—because he doesn’t mind it as much as he pretends to.

The stickers—and now magnets—become a daily ritual.

At this point, everyone in the compound has noticed. Clint, predictably, laughs himself half to death when he first sees Bucky with a sparkly unicorn sticker on his wrist. Thor, on the other hand, is completely unbothered. He takes one look, nods approvingly, and later gifts you a set of Asgardian insignia stickers that you immediately slap onto Bucky’s arm. Even Bruce, who usually keeps to himself, quietly asks if he can contribute and hands you a little atom-shaped magnet one afternoon.

Bucky grumbles about it, of course. He sighs dramatically when you press another sticker onto his arm, acts like it’s the greatest inconvenience in the world, but he never actually stops you. He never pulls away. He never tells you no.

And he never takes them off until he’s alone.

You start paying attention, watching him when he thinks no one else is looking. He’ll be in the middle of a conversation, his fingers absentmindedly brushing over the stickers on his forearm, tracing the edges. You notice that he doesn’t cover his arm as much anymore—not as often as he used to. Before, he wore long sleeves even in the middle of summer, like he couldn’t stand the sight of it. Now, he just lets it be.

That realization sits in the back of your mind for a long time.

Then, one day, you ask.

It’s late.

Most of the compound has already turned in for the night. The common room is quiet, dimly lit by the glow of the television, where some old black-and-white movie plays with the volume low. You’re curled up on the couch next to Bucky, a fresh pack of stickers in your lap.

You press a new one onto his arm—a tiny golden retriever wearing sunglasses—before hesitating.

“Hey, Buck?”

He glances down at you. “Yeah?”

You fidget slightly, turning the next sticker over in your hands. “…Why do you let me do this?”

Bucky blinks, like he wasn’t expecting that question. “Huh?”

You gesture vaguely to his arm, now covered in an assortment of colorful stickers and small magnets. “This. Why do you let me put them on you? You could’ve told me to stop. But you didn’t.”

For a moment, he’s quiet. His expression shifts—just a little—but you catch it. A flicker of something uncertain, something careful, like he’s picking his words before speaking.

Then, finally, he exhales.

“…Because it helps.”

You tilt your head. “Helps with what?”

Bucky glances down at his arm, his fingers skimming over the stickers.

“You know what this arm used to be,” he says, his voice quieter than before. “What it used to do.”

You don’t say anything. You don’t need to.

He swallows, his jaw tight. “For a long time, it felt like it didn’t belong to me. Like it was just…a weapon. A part of me that wasn’t really mine.” His fingers brush over the little cartoon raccoon you stuck near his wrist. “But then you started doing this. And…I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not,” you say immediately.

He lets out a short, humorless laugh. “Maybe not. But it’s…different, now. When I look at it.” He pauses, then shakes his head. “When I see the stickers, I don’t think about the things I’ve done. I think about you. About Sam rolling his eyes, Nat sneaking magnets onto me, Steve acting like he doesn’t get it even though he does.” His voice softens. “I think about now. Not then.”

You don’t know when your eyes started burning, but suddenly, it’s hard to see. You swallow thickly, trying to blink away the sting.

“Oh,” you say, and it comes out smaller than you meant it to.

Bucky glances at you, eyes sharp. “Hey. Don’t cry on me, kid.”

“I’m not,” you lie, furiously rubbing at your eyes. “It’s just—you just said something really nice, and my dumb emotions weren’t prepared for it.”

Bucky huffs a quiet laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Says the guy covered in stickers,” you sniff, but you’re smiling now, even if your throat is still tight.

Bucky shakes his head, rolling his eyes, but there’s something softer in his expression when he looks at you.

“…Thanks, kid.”

You look up at him. “For what?”

He gestures vaguely at his arm. “This. The stickers. Everything.”

You don’t know what to say to that, so you just grab another sticker and carefully press it onto the back of his hand.

Bucky glances down at it. It’s a tiny heart.

He smiles.

I'm so sorry if this it's too short I didnt know what else to add :(

[lostinlovingrevery]

Old man Logan with reader who is lonely, has no friends but is still a ray of sunshine with him, always trying to impress him and give him pretty gifts and getting all dolled up for him. She is sad inside though, apart from being his boyfriend, he is her only friend

My Ray Of Sunshine (Why Are You So Sad?)

Old Man Logan X F! Reader

A/N: I hope this is okay! Started angsty, but I wanted it to be happy for both reader and Logan in the end. Loneliness is an awful feeling (smth I'm all too familiar with) If anyone ever needs to talk, my inbox is always open!! I had a little trouble figuring out where to go with this, so I hope this satisfies you!

Plot: You and Logan have been dating for some time, but you still feel the intense loneliness that wraps it's arms around you, him being the only one in your life - and you feel like he's not honest with you.

Warnings: Angsty, slight depression, mention of loneliness, happy endings

Word Count: 2021

"Hi Lo," You cooed as you answered the phone, a smile stretching across your face.

"Hey sunshine," You heard his gruff voice on the other line, giving your heart a flutter. You always loved the sound of his voice, no matter how gruff and cranky he could sound - he never takes it out on you though.

"You still coming over tonight?" You ask as you walk across the room, your fingers tapping along the small box that sat on your desk. A present you decided to get Logan, a nice little silver watch he can wear. There was a moment of silence, "Lo?"

A small sigh,

"Sorry. I can't. I have to work."

Your face fell, but you took a deep breath. "Oh, that's alright!" You say, putting on your best happy-go-lucky voice. You didn't want him to feel bad, just by the tone of his voice you could tell he was having a bad day. "We'll plan for another night baby. You get a request?"

"Yeah, Bachelors party." He says. "Big payout."

"Oooh....Nice paycheck then huh? You can make it up to me later by taking me out somewhere nice then." You tease. You couldn't see the fond smile on his face, but you could picture it.

"Yeah. We'll plan on it. Promise." He says. You chewed on your lip, as you felt that swell of emptiness build up inside you.

Another night alone.

"Sunshine?"

"Huh?" You snapped out of your thoughts. "Sorry, sorry-" You laughed. "Zoned out again. What?"

"I gotta go, got a job. I'll call you later, or in the morning. That alright?"

"Yes, of course." You smiled. "Be safe, okay tough guy?"

You heard a warm chuckle, which made you relax. "Yeah, I will. See you doll."

You heard the phone beep and sighed. Alright.

You and Logan had been dating for a little bit. Meeting in a small little diner that you waitress at. It started as harmless flirting, but then you both managed to find yourself able to talk to each other so easily. Logan listened to you, seemed so openly accepting of you. How could you not be drawn to him?

You thought yourself a little ridiculous for gaining a crush on an older man like Logan, but then his weathered charm got to you - and you just couldn't help it. You'd slip him extra treats on the down-low, not charging him for them. An extra cup of coffee, a slice of apple pie, once you even managed to slip him a stack of pancakes. He'd smile at you and your antics as you slide the plate across the counter and give him a wink- his smile being something tired yet warm that made your knees weak and butterflies shoot through you.

You put more effort into your appearance, especially when you knew he was going to be there. Dolling yourself up - not your usual thing to do but when you got a man like Logan coming around...Well, it's hard not to want to look pretty for him.

It was you that finally convinced him to go on a date with you, and you surprised him by taking him to a gorgeous museum the next city over. You had wondered initially if he scoff at that- him being the gruff and older man he is, but he seemed to really enjoy it. He listened to you ramble on and on about Vincent Van Gogh, one of your favorite painters as you listed everything you knew about him, explaining the misconceptions about him as a painter and a person.

You took the charge of the relationship that formed between you. You planned dates, which seemed to make Logan happy- your infectious happiness- not rubbing off on him but more giving him some much needed relief in what you must believe is a very stressful life for him. He deemed you his sunshine, a pet-name you wore with pride.

You believe it's stressful- or rather assume. He never really told you about his personal life. You know he was a limo driver, you know he lived on the outskirts of town - you never been where he lived. He mentioned something about taking care of his father. He's shared a few stories- always seemingly missing information in them like he was purposely leaving out parts of them.

It made it worse by the fact that he really is the only person in your life right now. You adored Logan and did everything you could to make him happy because he was the only one to give your love to. You spend the time you can together, when he visits your work, or when he comes and stays with you for the night. He's busy though, so he's not really there as often as you wish he was.

Actually, you probably love him. You haven't told him that though. You always feel though that he's hiding something from you. It's disheartening really, he'll listen to you, he's heard your secrets but you never hear his. He refuses to bring you to his place, making some excuse that yours was nicer and maybe it was but you didn't care about that. It created a space between you, something you're not sure if Logan recognizes himself.

You moved to change out of the pretty yellow dress you had on to see Logan, wiping your makeup off and pulling your hair into a messy bun as you prepared to spiral into a night of anxiety, depression, and wine.

You settled on your couch, flipping the tv on, surfing through channel after channel. The night got darker and you got more and more tired. The shadows of your living room, seemingly your only company for tonight, closing in on you as the tv flickered over your curled up form.

Your eyelids grew heavy, as your felt the sinking feeling of your heart, reminding you that you were by yourself again. Inevitably wondering when will Logan leave?

Heavy knocks on your door startled you, as you sat up on the couch and confusion stretched across your face. Worry settled in you, as you had to wonder what shifty characters were knocking on your door at night?

You stood up and crossed the apartment, peeking through the peephole of your door, you're shocked to find Logan standing there. You gasped, stepping back to unlock your door and open it.

"Logan?"

"Hi sunshine." He greeted you, and smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling in the corners as his smile lines became more prominent. He held a bouquet of sunflowers in one hand.

"What are you...What are you doing here?"

"I missed ya." He says gently, a lingering gruff in his voice. "Can I come in?"

You bit your lip, and nodded. Still, your lingering feelings stuck in the back of your head. Stepping back, you forced a smile up at him as he stepped inside, holding the bouquet up.

"I figured you'd like them because...You know. That painter who- Are you okay?" He stopped, squinting at you, as he watched your eyes met with the bouquet, and tears filled your eyes. "Hey, hey sunshine, what's wrong?" He asks softly, bringing his hand up to your chin, tipping it upwards to look up at him. You bit your lip and shook your head.

"Sorry-" You say pulling away from him, wiping your eyes. "I'm just happy to see you..." You lied through your teeth. His eyes, he looked tired.

"Don't know about that sweetheart..." He mutters, examining your expression. "What is it? The flowers? You hate em?"

"No." You let out a small laugh, crossing your arms. He turned to shut the door behind him, locking it before setting the flowers on a nearby table, his hands coming to rest on your arms.

"Well?" He looks down at you, his face serious, but his eyes held concern. "You don't need to pretend with me darling."

You were caught off guard by him, showing up suddenly when you felt your worst. Your instinct screamed at you to push him away, to pretend that it was all okay. You didn't want to bring him down. Your anxiety peeked at the idea that he may be disappointed by this version of yourself, that he would see the lonely person you are, and leave because he wouldn't want to deal with you.

But they way he looked at you, you couldn't help it as the dam broke, and he pulled you tight to his chest, holding you as you cried.

"I'm sorry doll. I didn't mean to hurt you by canceling." He says softly, his hand petting your hair gently.

"No..No, it's not you." You sniffled, stepping away for a moment. "I...I just feel so alone sometimes. I like you a lot Lo, I love us spending time together but when you're not around I'm just by myself and it...It's just terrible."

Logan brows creased, as he brought a hand to cup your cheek. "I didn't know." He says gently. You let out a shaky sigh and looked back up at him.

"You're the only person in my life." You continue. "I don't feel like I don't completely know you though. Not like how you know me. I feel like you're keeping things from me or that you're...Only sticking around temporarily."

"That's not true." He says quickly, and firmly. "I care about you sunshine." His thumb wiped away a tear. "A lot. More than I have a right too. You're....Everything sweetheart. I count myself a damn lucky guy that I met you, that you let me be apart of your life. "

You swallowed and nodded, looking away as you let out a small sigh. You both stood there in silence.

"I..." He started. "I don't know how to stop you from feeling alone but...I get it. You're right. I haven't told you the whole truth."

He grabbed your hand, leading you over to the couch, as you both sat down.

"You ready for this?" He asks.

~~~~~~~~

You stood outside the hot desert sun, as you look around the barren horizon. Logan let out a small cough, as he puffed on the cigar that he was smoking.

"It's quiet." You say.

"Yeah." He nods, his eyes trailing over you as he tried to read your body language.

After an intense conversation last night, you both passed out on your couch. When you woke up in the morning, Logan had you get dressed, and brought you to his...well, where he lives. Can't really call it a home.

That was you.

He felt terrible when you admitted to him everything you struggled with. He adored the way you always seemed to be optimistic, the way you got yourself all dolled up for him, the way you tried to spoil him and every way possible. That's not why he liked you though. He liked your character, he liked the person you are. Not just for what you do for him. You were a fresh breath of air for him. His sunshine.

He wished you see yourself the way he does. You're always encouraging him, to look at himself and see himself as a good man. He didn't know how long he got but he'll spend every second with you to prove you are the most wonderful and loveable person.

You looked at him and smiled. The sunlight gleamed off his new watch that you gifted him. He finished the cigar, flicking it to the ground and stomping it out with the heel of his shoe, before putting an arm around your shoulders.

"You ready to meet the old man?"

"Uh Lo, you're right here." You tease, wrapping your arm around his waist. He chuckled warmly.

"Real cute." He mutters shaking his head, as he led you to the decrepit water tower. He went to the door, and slid it open, a harsh grunt escaping him as it rolled open, he stood to the side and waited as you walked in.

Inside you saw two men. One, sitting in a chair reading a comic book, looking up at you. He had white skin, and yellow eyes. That one must be Caliban.

"Hello dear-" The other man greets. An older gentleman, lying in a bed with a warm smile. You smiled back as he reached his hand out to you, and walked over and took it. "I've heard so much about you from Logan. It's nice to finally meet you. Tell me...Which of Van Goghs paintings is your favorite?"

[dindjarindiaries]

Pulling Punches

character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

prompt: "Look, I know I probably should have backed off and I apologize." "No, honestly it was kind of hot." "What?"

main masterlist • prompt masterlist

You sighed and set your hands on your hips, leaning close enough so that your muttered words could only be shared between the two of you. “Din, honestly. I’ll be fine in there.” You gestured with your head to the cantina’s threshold. “Just stay out here and watch my back. Okay?”

Din shifted his weight between his feet and flexed one of his gloved hands. The other rose to adjust his vambrace. With a heavy exhale of defeat and a swing of his helmet, he relented. “Fine.” His visor found you again. “Just—.”

“Be careful.” You huffed and gave his armored shoulder a playful punch. “I know. I can handle myself.” You turned towards the door and spoke to him over your shoulder. “I’ll be back in a few.”

With that, you strode forward. The door slid open for you, and you felt Din’s gaze lingering on your back until the closing door made it impossible for him to see you any longer.

You rolled your eyes. Honestly, for a man who had yet to even mention the idea of being with you romantically, he was so unnecessarily protective.

The cantina on this world was crowded that night, practically shoulder-to-shoulder as you wove your way towards the actual bar. You were soon close enough to spot the familiar blue skin of the Twi’lek bartender, and after raising your hand and keeping your eye on them, you caught their attention. The Twi’lek woman smiled and waved you forward.

“Sorry.” You smiled sheepishly as you stepped up to greet the bartender. “I know I’m a bit late.”

The Twi’lek raised an unimpressed brow, despite the glint of fondness in her gaze. “‘A bit’? It was two full rotations.”

You shrugged. “Kark happens.” You subtly scanned your surroundings and lowered your voice. “Do you still have it?”

The Twi’lek hummed a positive note as she finished pouring a drink. “It’s in the back.” She picked up the glass in her hand and nodded. “I’ll go grab it.”

Your face softened in gratitude, even as your fists tightened on top of the bar. You wouldn’t feel much better until the datacard was in your hands.

Just as you watched the blue Twi’lek disappear into a back room, the man on your left started to speak to you. “Never seen you here before.”

You huffed and cut your gaze at him. “Moved off world a few cycles ago.”

“Makes sense.” He shuffled closer to you. “I’d remember a face like yours.”

You let out a low chuckle and glanced over at him, amused. “Oh, yeah?”

The man hummed his agreement and gave you an obvious once-over. “What brings you back here?”

You offered him a shrug. “Just visiting an old friend.” You gestured with your head to where the bartender had gone.

“Well…” The man’s hand slid closer to yours on the bar top. “I’m glad you did.”

Your eyes narrowed as you looked him straight in the eye. “I’m not staying long.”

His brow rose slowly. “I won’t need long.”

You frowned and pulled your hand closer to yourself. “Okay, then let me make myself clear: I don’t want whatever you’re trying to offer me.”

The man chuckled. “Playing hard to get? Really?”

You crossed your arms, but kept your hands pulled tight into fists, ready to punch if you had to. “I’m not ‘playing’ at all.”

The man lifted his hand as if he was about to set it on your shoulder. “Then let me help you—.”

Whatever else he was saying was lost in the shuffle of someone stepping in between the two of you so quickly that you nearly jumped into the person on your right. The flash of silver was all you needed to see to identify who it was that had grabbed the man’s wrist so hard that you audibly heard it crack.

The man gasped in both pain and surprise, but Din didn’t release his wrist, not even as he spoke. “Lay a single hand on them, and I’ll cut it off.”

The man sputtered before he tried to snatch his wrist away from Din. “Alright, alright! Relax.”

“This is me relaxed.” Din still didn’t relinquish his grip. “You don’t want to see me when I’m not. Do I make myself clear?”

The man huffed indignantly. “Yeah, yeah! Whatever. Just let me go!”

You observed the attention you were suddenly getting and sighed. You pinched the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes. “Let him go, Din.”

Din hesitated, but you soon heard movement as he dropped the man’s hand. You reopened your eyes to see the man cradling his bruising wrist and glaring between both you and Din. His words were directed towards you when he spoke again. “You could at least fight your own battles.”

You were ready to do exactly that, but Din beat you to it. He slammed his elbow into the back of the man’s head, forcing his front half to fold over the bar top, and then punched the man’s gut to make him fall back a few steps. Din’s final hit was an uppercut that had the man knocked out in seconds.

The man hit the floor, and the cantina froze for a single moment in time as Din flexed both his hands and spoke to the limp body underneath him. “They don’t have to.”

You should’ve been mortified by his actions, and part of you was, but mostly… you were hit with a rush of warmth that brought a fond smile to your lips. Din was always protective, sure, but this was something different. This was a fight to protect your honor.

Like he had said, a battle you could have fought on your own, but you didn’t have to, because he wanted to do it for you.

Din then shook his helmet as if pulling himself out of a trance and turned around to face you. He took a step closer, as if he was about to start speaking, but your attention was pulled away by the bartender returning.

“Here.” The Twi’lek woman handed you the datacard, and you thanked her quietly. Her gaze fell to the man on the floor, and her brow raised as she let out a relived exhale. “Oh, finally. Someone took care of that guy.”

You frowned in confusion. “What?”

The bartender nodded at the body. “Guy’s been harassing our patrons for weeks.”

“Oh.” You looked down at the man and kicked his limp foot with your boot. “Good riddance.”

The Twi’lek huffed in agreement and only briefly looked between you and Din. She smiled and nodded towards the door. “Be safe out there.”

“And you be safe in here.”

With those words and a small smile of your own, you turned towards the door and started making your way out. It was admittedly easier, though, with Din at your side, as he had no trouble pushing people out of the way for both of you.

As soon as you were making your way back to the ship, Din began to speak. “Look.”

He let out a soft breath as his visor glanced over at you.

“I know I probably should have backed off.” He looked down at the fist he’d punched with and flexed it. “I apologize.”

You hummed, pretending to consider his apology. “No. Honestly…” You shrugged. “It was kind of hot.”

Din’s helmet whipped towards you so fast that you’re surprised he didn’t actually trip a step. “What?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you bumped your side against his. “I’m being serious!”

Din’s helmet tilted at you. “But you’re laughing.”

“Because it’s funny.”

Din sighed. “What’s funny?”

You nodded at him. “You being so shocked that I find you attractive.”

Din stiffened in clear embarrassment as he focused on the way ahead. “Are we really doing this here?”

You pretended to be disappointed. “So, you’re saying you didn’t do what you did because you find me attractive?”

Din’s helmet turned towards you again. “I never said that.”

Your teasing smile was impossible to fight. “Then you do think I’m attractive?”

Din suddenly stopped in his tracks, letting out an exhale heavy enough to make you hold back a laugh. He took you by the arm and pulled you aside to keep you out of the way as he responded.

“Clearly. How many more people do I have to punch to make that obvious?”

You blinked at him before you burst out laughing again. "Din, there has to be a better way for you to tell me how you feel."

Din shrugged. "I was raised a fighter."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Not a lover?"

"Jury's still out."

You snorted in amusement. Din, however, was quick to shift gears, his hand lowering from your arm to your back as his visor gave your surroundings a cautious glance.

"Now, can I please get you back to the ship safely, and then we can discuss this more properly?" He tilted his helmet at you. "Or, in your case, laugh about it."

You gave your eyes a playful roll, though the smile on your lips told a different story. "Fine." You nodded towards the way ahead. "Just try not to punch anyone else."

Din huffed and gave your back a gentle tap. "No promises."

Given what additional insight you had now regarding Din's motivations, you found your smile widening as you stayed close to his side, at last fully grateful to be within his protective reach.

[tonysbed]

Secrets I keep | Part 16

Max Fewtrell x norris!reader

summary: You and Max have been dancing around your feelings for years but jealousy gets the best of us all..

warnings: again, the internet is cruel. Max gets into his head, mental health issues?? self doubt, crying, mention of cheating

not proofread

series masterlist | previous | next

-

“Alright, I’m leaving then! I’ll see you in a few days” You say, coming trough the door into the living room, where max was sitting on the couch. It had been a few good weeks since the whole incident and you were both cooled down from the drama.

Lando hadn’t really come to his senses, but you unblocked him. Your dad had a talk with him, that resulted in nothing.

“Alright. Be careful and text me” He gets up from his place and hugs you, kissing the top of your head “I will, don’t worry” You kiss him and smile “I gotta go now before I miss my flight or something!”

You look at your phone “And they’re here! Okay, gotta go. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone! I love you” “Won’t do, I love you too” Max watches you leave the apartment with a suitcase, and sighs.

He still hadn’t voiced his concerns about Franco. Not to think wrong, franco was a super nice bloke but he was flirty and you two just got along a little to well for his liking.

But how would you know? You only had eyes for max, franco was not interesting for you. But that is something that Max has to get in his head first..

-

You slid into the backseat. Kika turned around to look at you “Ready?” You smile “A tour through the headquarters of tractors? Sure!” Pierre glared at you through the mirror “Do you want to walk?” He grumbled “Pierre!” Kika slapped his arm “What? She said I’m driving a tractor!”

Kika rolled her eyes smiling and pierre dropped it.

-

norris.yn

liked by franciscagomez, pierregasly, maxfewtrell and 36 others

norris.yn she’s everything and he’s… there

pierregasly why am I always catching strays

franciscagomez 🙂‍↕️😘

alexandrasaintmleux 😂😂

charlesleclerc oh pierre 🤦‍♂️

maxfewtrell always tired 😂

pierregasly of your girlfriend? Always

franciscagomez Pierre.

pierregasly What? She’s always stealing you

norris.yn she deserves more than you

pierregasly see??

maxfewtrell I choose peace and ignore it.

-

You three arrived at the Alpine headquarters and as you neared the entrance you saw a figure enthusiastically talk with Paul, who just looked like he was being tortured.

As you got closer, Paul spotted you three and sighed in relief “Thank god. Now he can talk your ear off. I really like you Franco, but it’s to fucking early” Paul says, yawning.

You chuckle as Franco huffed “Mean” He crossed his arms but smiled at you “You’re alive! You weren’t at the paddock, your brother acts as if you aren’t his sister and you don’t post anymore!” He throws his arms up in the air.

“Have you seen what happened?” You chuckled “Yeah I know” “Don’t you follow her on here new account?” Pierre asked “Uh..new account?” Franco looks puzzled at the frenchman and then at you.

“Yeah, I made one just for friends, no strangers, no privacy invasion, just us” You say smiling. Franco nods, pulls out his phone and hands it to you.

You type in his code, which kika raised an eyebrow at and request your account from his. You hand it back to him and accept the request.

“Ah, yes you have been alive!” He laughs. You nod and laugh. Pierre and Kika start to make their way inside, and you two follow them.

-

norris.yn

liked by pierregasly, kellypiquet, francocolapinto and 46 others

norris.yn @/ jackdoohan, pls get better soon, they’re crazy

jackdoohan I will try my best 😂

norris.yn pls hurry up 😭😂

franciscagomez we’re not that bad 🤔

pierregasly …

paulaaron you love us, really

francocolapinto now why would you post this? my my

norris.yn you’ll live

-

max grimaced at his phone. This is exactly what he feared could happen. But before he could continue his thought train, another notification popped up on his phone.

It was a gossip page that had tagged him. That was never good but he clicked on it, and immediately regretted it.

-

f1gossip

f1gossip Franco Colapinto was spotten near the Alpine Headquarters with Yn Norris. Mclarens number one drivers sister. Has she moved on from her boyfriend Max Fewtrell?

user oh my god. She’s disgusting

user what a bitch

user max isn’t even allowed to be mad, he did the same

user are we gonna ignore that Pierre, Paul and Kika were also with them??

user 🤢

user franco noooo

-

-

You sigh as you put the phone down. Kika tilts her head at you “What did he say?” “He’s being weird” Franco raised an eyebrow “About me? I swear, I know you guys are a thing! I don’t want anything from you” Franco raised his hands in surrender.

You chuckle “I know that. Something tells me tho that this is not based on todays events.” You look at Kika with a knowing look. She presses her lips together.

“Do we have to understand this?” Pierre asked confused “Are you a woman?” She asked him with an raised eyebrow “No?” “Then you won’t get it.”

“I’ll guess it’s an early leave for me” You sigh “Nooo, can’t he be weird alone for a few more days?” Paul pouts “I’d rather resolve this as soon as possible. I know how much Max can get into his own head because of the media. I’ve seen it with him, and i’ve seen it with Lando. I know what It does to people”

“Especially something like this” Pierre says, his voice now serious but calm. Kika nods “Of that is what you think is better for the two of you, that’s okay. We can do this another time. Maybe even bring max that time” Kika says, Pierre nodding along “Definitely”

You smile “Thanks guys. I guess I’ll see what flight will get me back the fastest” You pull out your phone again “Is he in monaco again?” Kika chuckled “Yep. He’s at my apartment” She nods “Obviously.”

-

While you were planning your trip home, Max was laying in your bed. His eyes fixed on the side you claimed as yours the first time he had officially slept over as your boyfriend.

He smiled a bit at the memory, which was quickly soured away by the pictures of you and franco flashing in his mind. He knew you would never do such things, he knew that Kika, Pierre and Paul had been there but in moments like these, his mind wasn’t quiet.

It screamed at him. Screamed he’d get hurt again, or more by the one person that could actually hurt him deeply.

He shakes his head. You wouldn’t.

Are you sure? You’re not even a racing driver.

She loves me for me.

does she now? why would you be enough

Max sat up and got up to go into the bathroom. He looked into the reflection of the big mirror. His eyes were red from crying, but not too bad that he couldn’t pass it off as sleepiness.

He splashed water in his face and sighed. His mind was playing tricks on him that only you could outplay. You were outplaying tricks you didn’t even know about.

He let his head hang and sighed again.

He turned off the light and made his way to the kitchen for a glass of water. In moments like these, he would’ve called lando. Something he had also cost her.

She would’ve never argued about Daniel with Lando if it wasn’t for him. It was all his fault.

-

It was later in the day when you had finally arrived back in monaco. You sighed as you pulled out your keys but before you could put the keys in, the door swung open.

Max looked backwards into the apartment, his suitcase in hand. He closed the door and finally turned around to look at you.

you both stare at each other for a moment. You look between his suitcase and him “Uhm..where you leaving?” You ask confused.

“I..uh” Max didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t expected you back so soon. What in christs name-

“Why are you back already?” “That doesn’t matter right now. Did something happen?” Max’s jaw clenched and he looked away.

A knot forms in your stomach “Please don’t tell me this is about the Franco thing” You say quietly. Max still doesn’t meet your eyes. You abandon your suitcase for a moment and unlock the door.

You point for him to go back inside. Before he could protest, you shake your head “We’re talking about this. Inside. With your suitcase.”

-

You sat down on the couch, turned to Max, while he was faced forward, hands fidgeting.

“Max, please talk to me about this. I already told you, I would never..Franco isn’t..He doesn’t even fit into my life” You say, still looking at him.

“I know” He says quietly “Well apparently you don’t. You wanted to leave why exactly? To tell me what? You didn’t call, you didn’t text” His head turns to the kitchen.

You can see the island from the couch. There is a vase of your favourite flowers and a letter perched up against.

“I knew you would try to stop me” He says quietly. Now he had made you speechless. You look at him in shock.

“You..so” You take a deep breath “So this is it?” You ask, not entirely sure what you’re even saying. Max finally looks at you. He doesn’t say anything but his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

You clenched your jaw “why?” You whisper, biting back tears. Max weighs his options. You would try to convince him to stay, when he would tell you the truth. But he would only hurt you further.

His mind kept screaming to go, his heart was aching, and crying out your name, longing for your love. He knew you’d be better off without him. He had to go.

“You wouldn’t understand” “Then make me understand. Let me try to fix this! Us!”

“There is no us. Not anymore. There should’ve never been an us”

The words lie heavy in the room. You stare at him. You can only watch as he gets up, takes his suitcase and takes one last look at you.

This is it, she’ll be free of you.

-

Alexandra could barely understand what you were saying over the phone as she rushed out the door, Charles closely behind, having to drive her over to you.

She tried to calm you down, with no success. The only thing she understood was “Franco, Max, broke up” And the last one was what made her stomach turn.

-

She opened your door with her spare key, rushing inside, finding you curled up on the couch.

“Hey, hey.” She took you into her arms. Her arms tighten around you as your sobs got heavier and more pained. Charles looks worried, wording the name ‘Kelly’. Alex nods, hoping Kelly would get more out of you, knowing you two knew each other longer.

Kelly arrived sooner than Alex expected, and Charles left, telling Alex to call if she needed anything.

-

alexandrasaintmleux added to their story

[cap: @/kellypiquet our new master chef 👩‍🍳 🍝❤️

reply’s:

charlesleclerc how is she holding up?

she’s okay for now. Calmed her down but his story doesn’t make sense. It’s quite confusing and just really out of the blue.

charlesleclerc hm..you want me to play detective?

pls do

charlesleclerc no problem mom amor❤️

❤️

user isn’t that yn’s kitchen??

-

so uhm.. yeah. Here’s a good handful of angst and Max’s head full of chaos 😬 Ups

Happy Valentine or whatever

[sxprot]

Can you please make Dandy x reader (romantic) headcanons? :0

I'm gonna embrace you again and again. Let your tears run free, let out your heart.

-----------------•☆

Author's Note: Sure...But I honestly don't know if it satisfies you. Is that what you wanted to ask...? Dear me, I get confused easily. You could request another if it isn't what you wanted, I will do it as compensation for my mistake.

Tw: bad grammar, ooc ig, ass writing

I hope u like it!! Have a great day too!

Dandy x Toon!reader (gn)

-----------

DANDY

It's no secret that he considers you as his favorite. Nearly everyone could see that from the way he treats you, from the time he gives you medkits, discounts,... You were aware of that, of course. But you never once comment on his behavior toward you, thinking of it as just a normal gesture between friends.

"Oh hello there, friends!" He perked up from the mere sight of you and your friends, returning to his shop.

He grew fond of you when you accepted to be his friend. When he's lonely, it's you who brightens his days up like a miracle. It's you that brings joy into his life.

You two would spend your days playing games, hopping around and being silly. Of course, you two are always close to each other, sticking with each other through thick and thin. It's always you that he would smile at, the charming smile that he would wear when you come in the elevator with your slightly beaten-up form

Despite the others asking why he would treat you differently, he would just smile, blithely saying that they're simply mistaken. Why would he do that? He sees everyone as friends, there are no silly things called favoritism, just them getting the wrong things inside their heads. Such blatant excuses that dare to slip out of his mouth...But actions always speak louder than words.

Although-! Dandy is a bit irritated when he gets ignored. He wants to be patient with you, for you to see that he does want the best for you during the ichor infection. He wants you to be safe, he sees you as a fragile and dainty little thing.

The way his face would twist when he saw you interacting with others, the close distance and the way you seemed so happy...Was he not enough? Supporting and helping you wasn't enough for little you?

And ah-! The flower would flinch when you asked him if he was alright, he simply just grinned and returned to his cheerful personality.

"Yes, I'm fine! How about you?"

But he wishes he could stop you from going. It pains him when he sees the one that he cherishes so much—getting hurt by Twisteds.

At last, Dandy is there in his shop, assisting everyone with items for their chance of survival. He has a glimpse of hope that someday this could end, despite how selfish he deems himself to be, he does want you to be happy along with the others.

Still, he watches everyone go, fending their own lives from the Twisted. He ponders about himself, the one that caused this mess.

Was he the true monster? And should he stay away from you? For the star of the show, he starts to question his choice, doubting if he really wants the best for you besides just putting everyone at risk, on the brim of death every day.

If sacrifice others are for his own happiness, does he really deserve your love? You certainly wouldn't like it when you're all alone with a monster.

(Alright, goodnight. I need rest before starting another request , i dont wanna bat my eyes on this anymore 😭😭💔)

[woniverse-writes]

“Love Letters”

kim sunoo x reader

summary: being in love with your childhood best friend is never easy, especially when they're as widely loved as kim sunoo

word count: 4.7k

warnings: swearing, kissing/small makeout, not proofread, slight angst??

notes: y'all I'm pretty sure I've talked about this before, but this cosplayer I used to follow back in 2020 makes music, and she came out with a new song today, thus what inspired this impromptu valentine's day fic. def recommend listening to it cuz it's so cutesy

You had always had a crush on Sunoo, but to be completely honest, who didn't? And that is exactly why you had such a hard time confessing your feelings to him.

the two of you had known each other since middle school, almost always being in the same class and joining the same clubs. even now, you both attend the same university and study the same major. You and Sunoo had grown to be pretty close friends throughout the years, which was ultimately a blessing and a curse. it gave you the opportunity to see the deeper parts of him that all his other admirers didn't have a chance to, and believe me, he has plenty of admirers.

Sunoo was always popular due to his kind heart and bubbly personality. His sweet smile and pretty eyes lured people in before they could even process it. it wasn't unusual for people to leave little gifts and snacks on his desk before class, or give him candy on Valentine's Day, or even leave him anonymous love notes in his locker. The admiration, known or anonymous, was not uncommon for Kim Sunoo.

even now, as you both stand in the lobby of the student union, talking to your friend Rei about her club's fundraiser, you could already sense the oncoming affection soon to be directed towards Sunoo.

"So what exactly is the fundraiser?" he raised an eyebrow slightly

"Oh my god, for someone as affectionate as you, you'd think the concept of a valentine would make sense." Rei dramatically scolded with absolutely no genuine malice whatsoever. You chuckled quietly at her attitude, glancing over to catch Sunoo glaring back with an unserious deadpan stare.

"I better have at least fifty of them by tomorrow" Sunoo glanced briefly at the table decorated with envelopes and stickers

"Well then you better drop some cash" she leaned back in her chair and gestured toward a cash box that was decorated with sparkly red and purple hearts. He scoffed sarcastically, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes like a true drama queen

"You really expect me to pay for AND write my own valentines? Some business you're running, Rei" causing both you and her to scoff and roll your eyes at his dramatics

"Alright let's go eat. I'm sure there are plenty of people who would give their money to write you a valentine." you smiled and waved at Rei then began to drag him toward the cafeteria doors

"I know someone who definitely would" the girl teased behind you as she watched you both walk off. Both yours and Sunoo heads whip around to look at her- him with curiosity, you with despair, anxiety, and a bit of murderous intent.

"What?? Who??" Sunoo paused in place as he waited excitedly for the girl's response. She just checked her nails and sighed with a teasing smirk.

"You'll just have to wait and see" Rei shrugged, causing the boy to throw his head back with a groan.

"Girl, literally whatever" he grabbed your wrist and began dragging you toward the dining hall again. You looked over your shoulder at Rei again, who was now giving you a big smile and thumbs up.

After you had finished eating, the two of you walked back to the dorms. You went to Sunoo's suite, which was the floor above yours, like you so often did. after about 45 minutes of just hanging out, you got a text from Rei

kongsuni🥐: come to my dorm for a sec, i need your help with something

You slouched against the couch with a tired groan before standing up and stretching

"Rei needs me for something, so I'll be back in a few minutes" you mumbled, slipping your house shoes on since her suite was on the same floor as Sunoo's. he looked up from his laptop for a second, nodded, then went to typing.

You didn't even bother knocking as you entered the suite, seeing your friend Haewon, who was one of Rei's roommates, sitting on the couch. You waved with a soft smile, getting the same in return, while heading toward Rei's room. Her door was open, so you walked in to see her sitting on the floor surrounded with what looked like materials to make valentines. Rei looked up as she sensed you walk in and gestured for you to sit with her, before immediately going back to work without saying a word

"So... what did you need me for?" you couldn't help but giggle slightly at the scene before you. Rei glanced up again for a brief second

"Aren't you gonna make Sunoo a valentine?" she mumbled softly as she remained focused on her own craft. your eyebrows shot up and eyes practically popped out of your head as you leaned back in surprise.

"Huh?? Why would I ever do that??"

"I mean, I did tell him I knew someone who would write him one" she shrugged, completely unbothered by your slight outburst

"yeah and you really thought that was gonna be me?" Rei sighed, finally pausing her gluing and setting the materials down before looking at you dead in the eyes.

"yes, y/n. I did. because you've been absolutely in love with him since you were 12, and it's only gotten worse since you two have gotten older. Even in the last three years I've known you, I've seen how much deeper in love you've fallen, so I can only imagine how bad it must've been before that. So you're gonna sit down, and write the damn valentine." Rei finished her rant with a huff and once again went back to work, leaving you sitting there with a slightly defeated pout.

"it's not that easy Rei..." she sighed, once again pausing to look up at you with an expectant gaze, causing you to gulp before continuing

"Obviously I've loved him for such a long time, which is why it's absolutely terrifying to risk messing things up. I mean... it's not like I haven't tried to drop hints to see if he's interested! it's just- everything I do is already so normal between us that I don't know how to make it more romantic without actually grabbing him by the face and saying "i'm not doing this platonically, this is romance" ya know?" you enunciated your point by doing as described and grabbing Rei by her face, shaking her gently. she grumbled slightly before pulling away with an annoyed but understanding laugh.

"I guess that does make it hard..." she agreed, leaving the two of you sitting in somber silence for a few seconds. she leans for to grab a few pieces of blank heart-shaped paper and slides them toward you with some glitter gel pens.

"It won't hurt to just write your feelings out though. You don't have to give it to him, just let it out." which is exactly what you did. You wrote about six different love letters addressed to kim sunoo over that hour and a half you spent in Rei's dorm. while she decorated envelopes and cards other people had paid her to put together, you let your feelings flow out onto little pieces of pastel pink card stock. After you finished writing, Rei handed you a stack of envelopes to put your love letters in, which were then sealed up with a wax stamp. you then helped her clean up the mess of scraps and fake rose petals, putting all the sealed cards into the big valentine box that would be displayed again in the student union the next morning. you stood up throwing away the last of the mess as the two of you headed back into the common area.

"Don't forget these" Rei handed you the small stack of envelopes with a knowing smile. You rolled your eyes with a shy grin and thanked her before heading back to sunoo's dorm. once you got back, you immediately tossed the letters into your bag, making sure to seem as natural as possible so your best friend didn't think anything strange was going on.

"what was that about? You were there for a while" Sunoo asked, still positioned at the table with his laptop open.

"Nothing much. She just wanted me to help her finish seal all the valentines"

"oh, were there a lot?"

"Actually, yeah... i'd say it was a decent amount" you shrugged, nodding as you thought back to the many envelopes Rei had thrown back in the box by the time you left.

"Any for me?" Sunoo glanced up over his laptop with a mischievously curious look, raising his eyebrows up and down teasingly. you rolled your eyes and and shook your head with a smile, playing off your anxiety well, before clicking your tongue in faux disappointment

"I didn't personally see any, sorry" you teased with a smile. Sunoo dramatically threw himself forward against the table with a groan causing you to suppress a large grin at his antics.

"Y/n... this might be the first time ever in my entire life that I'm not being doted on" he turned his head to the side to glance over at you with a look of distress. Even though he was obviously faking, Sunoo's pout and sad eyes, along with his cheek squished against the table made him look undeniably squeezable and in the moment it was nearly impossible for you not to jump on him.

"I'm sure you'll survive" you smiled down softly, admiration swimming in your eyes, as you leaned against the arm of the couch. the two of you continued staring at each other. as Sunoo's pout deepened, your smile became harder to contain.

"what's so funny, huh? you find my misery amusing?" he continued to complain, now barely able to contain his own smile as he sat and whined.

"oh, of course I do!" you teased once more, moving to sit in the seat across form him at the table. Sunoo rolled his eyes so hard you thought they would fall out of his head, letting out yet another overly dramatic sigh.

the next morning you were sitting in class when you got a text from Sunoo

divalicious🤩🌞: I GOT A LOVE LETTER😛😛😛 y/n: omg??? from who???? divalicious🤩🌞: idk yet but i just got an email from the poetry club president saying someone sent me a letter and i have to pick it up at the union later y/n: omg waaaaaait

you couldn't help but feel your heart ache a little at the thought of someone once again confessing to Sunoo. even though it was something you'd grown used to over the years, you'd always become accustomed to him shutting them down.

there was only ever one time where Sunoo gave someone a chance after confessing, and it was sophomore year of high school. Someone had secretly placing strawberry milk cartons on his desk before third period study hall every day, leaving cute silly little notes. At first he brushed it off and enjoyed the treat. but eventually he began laughing a little harder at the notes and gushing to you more about this secret admirer. it killed you.

divalicious🤩🌞: honestly it's probably just from one of the guys y/n: you think? would they really waste money on that? divalicious🤩🌞: oh of course they would. have you met ni-ki? y/n: true, true

you tried to push the slight anxiety down and convince yourself that he was right. it probably was just Riki or one of his other friends just messing with him. before you could think too much about it, you received a notification that you also got an email.

📧 to y/n@decelis.edu: you've received a love letter! please stop by the Decelis Poetry Society's table set up in the student union today before 8pm. Any letters not picked up will be send to the mail room for personal pickup.

your eyes widened as you had to stop yourself from physically reacting too much. you honestly had no clue who would write you a love letter, but then you thought back to a few seconds ago when Sunoo assumed it was from his friends. Maybe Rei wrote you one? or Hanni? Maybe even Yujin? surely it had to be one of your friends, so it was nothing to worry about right now. a few minutes later you got another text from Sunoo.

divalicious🤩🌞: got out of econ early, omw to retrieve my love letter🫡

you hearted the message and went back to trying to pay attention to your lecture, but you couldn't shake the anxious feelings. another fifteen minutes passed and your class ended. as you packed up your stuff you got a text from Rei:

kongsuni🥐: hey sugar plum, Sunoo just came by and he got a lot of letters... I just wanted to let you know before he got to you so you had time to prepare your emotions

you felt your heart ache again at the thought of people confessing their admiration for your best friend, suddenly feeling like a hopeless teenager again.

y/n: thanks love. i'm really just hoping they're joke letters from the boys :/ kongsuni🥐: i know, me too :(

you once again hearted the message threw your bag over your shoulder with a sigh as you began walking out of class, heading toward the student union to pick up your own letter. as you were about to walk in, your phone started blowing up again with numerous texts.

divalicious🤩🌞: bouta open my letters- will send updates🙈

kongsuni🥐: Y/n kongsuni🥐: i think something really bad happened kongsuni🥐: i really hope i'm wrong though and just tweaking out right now...

you began typing a frantic response to Rei as you continued your way into the building, but before you could even press send she was running up to you

"Oh my god Y/n- oh my god- you need to help me look through these envelopes right now and help me prove to myself i'm not a terrible friend" Rei grabbed you by the shoulders and whispered frantically as she looked over her shoulder toward the poetry club's fundraising table

"What??? Rei what the fuck is going on??"

"I'm missing like- six letters" there was a brief pause due to your confusion. surely this wasn't something she should be so worked up about

"Okay? it's gonna be okay, we'll find them!" you tried to shed some positivity on the situation but Rei was not having it

"No, y/n. it's not like that! I don't think I have them..." there was another moment of silence between the two of you as you tried to process who might have the missing letters she's referring to.

"...well then who does?" Rei opened and closed her mouth trying to find the right words, before taking a deep breath

"is that the bag you brought to Sunoo's last night..." at that question you felt your heart drop to your stomach.

"Oh my god there's no way..."

"Y/n i don't want that to be the case so please just check your bag and make sure you still have Sunoo's letters in there" she clasped her hands together and closed her eyes as she tried to speak as evenly as possible. your heart shook as you looked at her with regret

"That bag's back at my dorm."

Rei dropped her hands to her sides and pursed her lips. the girls forehead creased as she forced herself to take another deep breath. all you could do was stand there and stare blankly, completely dumbfounded by the possibility of Sunoo actively reading the love letters you wrote him.

"Rei..."

"Yeah?"

"I need to go"

"Y/n I'm so sorry-"

"No, it's okay... they're definitely still in my bag... we would've noticed if i grabbed the wrong ones..." you absently mumbled, trying not to crash out. you began walking back from the direction you originally came from, not bothering to check your phone even though it's been blowing up for the last 10 minutes you've been out.

"Wait!"

you turned around, feeling sluggish and on a different planet as Rei handed you an envelope with your name on it.

"I know right now isn't the best time, but hopefully everything works out and you'll be able to enjoy this after..."

you tried to smile and gave Rei a quite 'thanks' before continuing the trudge back. once you got back to your dorm, you opened the door to see one of your suite mates sitting in the common area.

"Hey! how was accounting?" Dayeon asked cheerily, glancing up from her laptop

"was fine" you mumbled absentmindedly, immediately heading to your room to search for the tote bag you brought along with you to Sunoo's the night before. after glancing around you spotted the bag hanging on the corner of your dresser. snatching it, you began rummaging through the bag, quickly finding the stack of letters tied together with a satin ribbon. you frantically started ripping them open one by one, only to realize none of them were addressed to Kim Sunoo.

it finally dawned on you that the letters he received were in fact not from Riki, or Sunghoon... but the love letters Sunoo received were written by you.

at that point you couldn't even stop the meltdown if you tried. tears immediately began to burn your eyes as you felt your chest contract. you tried to shift as quietly as possible across your floor as you crawled to pushed your door shut to make sure Dayeon didn't hear you cry. not like it would matter since the walls were so thin, she'd hear you anyway. you ran your hands through your hair as you curled up against the side of your bed.

"there's no way... there's just no way..."

you had imagined confessing to Sunoo multiple times before- or rather fantasized about him confessing to you, however it was never anything close to this. of course you'd sat with your thoughts on multiple occasions and thought about the what-ifs, especially the thought of "what if he realizes i like him and he doesn't feel the same, and then our friendship is ruined forever?" but again, that anxiety never came close to what you were feeling in this moment.

it felt like you were hunched over for at least an hour, tears streaming down your face, feeling like you were going to throw up, thinking your world was ending. but then came a soft knock on your door. assuming it was dayeon you sat up straight and wiped your tears, before standing up and opening the door, only to see a very starry-eyed Kim Sunoo. you felt your heart rise to your throat and fora second you honestly thought you were gonna vomit, before you watched many different emotions flash across Sunoo's face in a matter of seconds. you felt more tears sting your eyes again as you tried to force yourself to prepare for the conversation that was about to be had, but you just couldn't gather your thoughts

"What's wrong?" he whispered soft with concern, laying a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"huh?" did he really not think this would upset you?

Sunoo's expression shifted once again from concern to disappointment as he let his hand slip from your shoulder

"Did you read my letter?"

"What??" at this point you were full on crying again, so confused and distraught by the situation, not even really processing what's actually happening.

Sunoo smiled somewhat sadly, but couldn't help the endeared chuckle that he tried to suppress. he looked down at the floor momentarily, trying his best not to smile at how cute you were in this unfortunate situation. He glanced back up and reached for your hand.

"Are you okay?" it was a soft, genuine question, asked with the same amount of care and attention he's always asked with.

"Sunoo... i'm so confused right now... didn't you open your letters?" Sunoo's smile only grew, even though he was still trying to hold back from getting too excited.

"Of course I did... didn't you read yours?" he rubbed circles on the back of your hand with him thumb. your brows furrowed deeper in confusion, truly lost to what was going on in the world around you

"No, not yet..." you sniffled, wiping more tears from your face. Sunoo chuckled quietly, completely and utterly endeared by you.

"Why not?" he questioned softly.

"I... I don't know" you looked down, avoiding eye contact, not knowing how to explain the situation you were in yet.

"Well I think you should open it... it might make you feel better" Sunoo squeezed your hand and gave you the sweetest, softest smile as you finally met his gaze. you raised your eyebrows slightly, but turned to retrieve the letter from where it was haphazardly tossed on your desk.

you glanced back at Sunoo one last time before he excitedly gestured to the unopened envelope. you sat down at your desk and opened the letter, reading in your head

Dear Y/n, I'm sorry it took me so long to finally get the courage to say something to you. I know we've been friends for years now, and i obviously cherish that more than anything. I don't think there's anyone in this world who has made me feel as special as you do, which is why it's so hard to keep being you friend. I want to love you deeper than how I've been able to so far. I want to show my affection and adoration for you so wholly and openly that it's clear to everyone who my heart belongs to. I know this is so beyond cheesy and honestly kind of stupid maybe, but the love i have for you is just so strong and pure that I couldn't think of a better way to express it. I've tried to come up with the best possible plans of how to confess in my head, yet none of them feel like they'd ever be good enough for you- which is crazy because I know a singular letter isn't anything drastic, but i personally don't think there's any better show of romance than a classic love letter. so again, i'm sorry for making you wait so long my sweet angel, but i hope this letter makes you finally see how hopelessly in love i am with you. p.s. the only reason I even indulged that secret admirer back in high school was because I thought it was you and by the time i found out it wasn't, I had a crisis and realized how in love with you i was, that i figured I might as well try to get over you since at the time it seemed like you had no interest in me. but now that many years have passed, i realize how stupidly blind i was not to see that you did in fact like me like that. but it's okay cuz you've also lowkey been stupidly blind not to see how much i've loved you too lol <3

by the time you finish readin his letter there were teardrops on the page and the sides were slightly crinkled and damp from how hard you were clutching it with your sweaty palms. you glanced over to where Sunoo was sitting on your bed with a watery pout

"Sunoo..."

"I wanted it to be you so bad... I've only ever wanted it to be you"

you jumped up from your desk chair and swiftly moved across the room, throwing your arms around Sunoo and holding onto him for dear life. He giggled into your neck as he wrapped his arms just as tightly around your waist. the two of you stayed like that for a few more seconds before you leaned back slightly. Sunoo did the same, leaving the two of you face to face, only about and inch or two in between you.

"So..." Sunoo whispered with a soft smile. you giggled, resting your forehead against his

"you're kinda obsessed with me ya know" he teased

"oh shut UP- you're saying I'M obsessed after the confession you just wrote?" you shot back with a laugh as he squeezed you tighter. you two giggled together for a few more seconds before he leaned back again, this time with an ever-so-sightly concerned expression

"Were you crying cuz you thought i didn't like you back or something?" Sunoo questioned, rubbing gentle circles on your back. you let out a mix between a groan and a chuckle as you let your forehead fall against his shoulder in embarrassment

"honestly, yeah..."

"What??"

"yeah... Rei had me write those letters to just get my feelings out, but you were honestly never supposed to get them..."

"Are you serious?" Sunoo threw his head back as he laughed in complete disbelief

"Yup... the only reason you even have them is because Rei accidentally mixed up the stacks and put yours in the box" you rubbed a hand down your face as you sigh before letting out your own laugh of disbelief

"speaking of- lemme text her back real quick cuz she's definitely still freaking out over this" you reached for your phone and winced once you saw thirteen missed texts and four missed calls from Rei. Sunoo came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder as you read through the texts. you sent a message letting her know you had the wrong letters, but deleted what you had began typing as a follow-up.

instead you opened the camera app and snapped a quick selfie of you and Sunoo. he had turned his head so that his own cheek would be slightly pressing against yours, his lips brushing the skin, making it very obvious there's been a shift in the dynamic.

kongsuni🥐: Y/n please answer girl, you're making me really nervous

y/n: i don't have Sunoo's letters y/n: (sent 1 attachment) y/n: but it's okay cuz he found them <3 kongsuni🥐: AHHHHHH OH MY GOD Y/N WHAT THE FUCK-

you both chuckled at Rei's reaction. Sunoo squeezed you tighter placing an aggressive kiss against your cheek, causing you to laugh harder. he continued to place little pecks across the span of your skin wherever he could reach from his position. eventually he let out a dramatic sigh and spun you around, finally placing a gentle kiss on you lips.

the two of you stayed there for a few seconds, just enjoying the connection, before he tilted his head ever-so-slightly to fit his lips better against yours to deepen the kiss. you let out a sigh against Sunoo's lips, allowing him better access as you continued to make out. your arms draped lazily around his neck as you played with hair. after a few more moments, you separated for air. you and Sunoo stared at each other in silence for a second before bursting into a fit of giggles.

you both moved to lay in your bed, cuddling under your cozy throw blankets. with stars in your eyes you both shared the details of your affections for each other and how stupidly in love you'd both been all this time.

"I can't believe all it took for us to finally get it together was some love letters..." Sunoo mumbles softly, shifting to press his cheek further into you. you huffed a quiet laugh before responding just as softly

"you say that as if one of us didn't have an absolutely breakdown over said letters" you mumbled in return. he hummed and squeezed you softly

"listen, i had plenty of my own breakdowns over that letter, but all of that was forgotten the second i read through what you wrote me" Sunoo opened his eyes to glance at you with nothing but pure adoration and love. you looked into his eyes and smiled softly, pressing a feathery kiss to the tip of his nose, before scooching down to rest your head against his chest

"I know we haven't even made things official yet, but I love you Kim Sunoo" you felt his chest rumble with a quiet chuckle, then you felt his soft lips agaisnt the top of you head

"I love you too my sweet angel" he mumbled into your hair as you both begin to drift off in a little mid-day nap, comforted more than ever by each other's presence.

notes: a few more notes, sorry y'all. this was originally supposed to be an ot7 fic and be like- a bunch of different scenarios of you writing them love letters. and then it was supposed to be a jungwon fic... but then i realized how many jungwon fics i'm in the middle of writing and i decided "omg our number one lovely boy needs a cutie little valentine's day fic" hehehe. i hope y'all enjoyed it😛

[gyllenhaalstuff]

Boy Back Home

- Donnie Darko

This fic is two requests mixed together, hope that’s alright ᡣ𐭩

Summary: You come over to Donnie’s house unannounced and find him touching himself.

Warnings: Sub!Donnie, masturbation, panty sniffing, touching himself to a picture of you, you’re a bit mean, blood (he accidentally bites your lip).

Word count: 964

Notes: This is really short (soz), might do a part two if it does well!

────── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

Even though you felt too old to be forced on family vacations, you still got dragged along to Cape Cod over the summer. Your friend, or unofficial boyfriend (whatever you want to call it), Donnie, had been waiting for you all summer to come back home. He tried to pass the time as best he could. Shooting bottles, biking, watching shitty sitcoms. Most effective of all was staring at his Polaroid of you, where you are dressed in nothing but a bikini top and tiny shorts, and either burying his face in your panties or jerking himself off holding them around his cock.

You got home in late July. You never told Donnie about it beforehand; you wanted it to be a surprise. You barely got home before leaving to go to his house. Under a flowerpot on the front porch lay a pair of spare keys. You picked them up, inserted them into the keyhole, and quietly unlocked the front door. No one seemed to be downstairs; you began to wonder if Donnie was not even home. But you decided to check his room.

In case he was there, you walked the creaky steps as carefully as possible. His door was closed, and a light shined from under the door. Your body filled with excitement, you had missed him so terribly. You turned the doorknob and looked into his room. However, Donnie did not seem to notice you. In fact, his eyes were closed. On his chest lay a Polaroid of you from a few months back; one of his hands held a pair of your used panties, which you thought you had lost, in his face, and his other hand feverishly stroked his cock.

Your eyes widened in surprise, and you could not deny his little show turned you on. You stepped in the room and closed the door behind you. This woke Donnie up from his daydream. His eyes shot up, cheeks turned maroon, and he stilled. “Uh. Look, I—,” he stammered. You two were not dating, so this could have easily scared you off. “Don’t let me interrupt you,” you said and walked towards his bed. This was your chance to play around with him a bit, which you needed after being away for so long—too long. “I was enjoying the show.”

Poor Donnie thought he might pass away from embarrassment. Not only did the girl he liked walk in on him, but she also walked in on him stuffing her used, stolen panties in his face with her skimpy Polaroid right by. He had a hard time deciphering you, whether you were being genuine or not.

You met Donnie’s silence with a sigh. “I want to see what you’ve been getting up to without me here,” you said in a kinder, softer voice, hoping it would make him feel more comfortable. “You’re not mad?” He asked instead. You smiled and shook your head. “The opposite.”

Donnie's hand began stroking his cock again, now with his eyes open, looking at you. He realized then how much better you looked in real life than in that still picture. His hand holding your underwear softened its grip. “Did you steal these?” You pointed at the panties. Donnie’s gaze looked far away and cloudy. He hummed a yes.

He was not sure if this was real. Maybe he fell asleep while masturbating and was having some sort of erotic dream, but this was too realistic. His body spasmed in pleasure as he watched your face. It almost felt more perverted to jerk off to your face than, let’s say, your tits. This was not just desperation; this was adoration.

“What do you do with them?” You asked, already knowing the answer. But hearing him say it would do so much for you. “I smell them,” Donnie whimpered in response; his whole being was getting eaten up by horniness, and he did not have enough brain power to feel shame anymore. He just wanted to cum.

“Show me,” you inquired, and he obliged. He smothered himself with them once again, heavily breathing in your scent. His thighs shook as he did, and his hips moved more than his hand by now. He was basically fucking up into his fist. He moaned hopelessly into the lace, which did not do much to muffle the sounds. His sheer desperation turned you on as much as it angered you. You grabbed the panties from him and shoved them into his open mouth. “You’re too noisy.”

A few whimpers still slipped out, but you could deal with that. You tried your best to hold back, because even though you enjoyed watching him suffer, you wanted to put your lips to his flushed, sweaty skin and kiss him all over. He could make up for it later.

You could tell he was nearing his climax by the way his legs trembled and flexed. The veins on his thin, pale hand were protruding from the strain. The panties in his mouth were useless by now as his sounds grew louder. So, you took them out and replaced them with your tongue. He writhed on his sheets and sucked on your tongue. It was not pretty; it was sloppy and messy, but God, it felt good.

He accidentally bit down on your lip when he came, mixing your blood into the shared saliva. His cum landed on his stomach, cooling him down when the breeze from the AC brushed his skin. You broke the kiss and breathed heavily into each other’s mouths. “I’ve missed you so much,” Donnie said, still sounding whiny and weak. You smiled, “Me too. Now you can have the real deal,” you teased and pecked his lips. He hummed happily, wanting nothing more than to dive between your thighs.

[autistic-value]

Let's talk about Catra and Hordak

Since this is where most of the drama comes from

It's no secret that Entrapdak shippers are anti-catradora and vice versa. Why? Mainly, the issues people have within these ships are not the ships themselves, but the characters within them; mainly Catra and Hordak. Entrapdak shippers hate Catra because of the toxic relationship she had with Entrapta and other characters. Because of what she did to Entrapta, tasing her and sending her to beast island, and how she just got worse and worse in season 4.

The same could be said about Hordak, regarding the Catradora shippers who despise Hordak for most of what he's done. It's no secret he took over the scorpion kingdom, created the Fright Zone, and brainwashed and conditioned a lot of Etherians into believing the cause, just as Horde Prime did to him. And a lot of that was the cause of a lot of Adora and Catra's issues.

Here's the thing though

I really think Hordak and Catra are similar in a lot of ways. Both grew up in a abusive environment forced to portray themselves as perfect in order to no longer face any abuse from their respective "mentors".

But both Shadow Weaver and Horde Prime would never see either of them as nothing but inferior.

They both suffered years of abuse, Hordak perhaps even longer. And yes, the actions of Hordak had contributed to Catra's abuse as well, but it is a cycle. A cycle they both decided to break.

Catra overheard Shadow Weaver telling Adora that she was a distraction to her, then leaving. Leaving, because she wasn't going to be a part of Shadow Weaver's manipulation any longer. And yes, she may have left due to that very manipulation, but eventually she stays, at the very end, together with Adora.

Then there's Hordak

Ever since meeting Entrapta again, he chooses to hide his returned memories this time and at the end, when Entrapta is being held in front of him and prime, finally he sees the error of his ways, breaking the cycle quite literally. By throwing prime off the ledge.

He does this great speech about giving himself a name, a life, making a friend. He defies Horde Prime's will and finally, FINALLY breaks the cycle and gains control of his independence. And yes, there's that whole thing that happened after, but that was Prime, not him.

My point is, we should stop hating on each other and the characters because people, it's just a show, these are fictional characters with flaws that any person in real life would go through. Not to mention, again, how similar Catra and Hordak are.

If we hate on Catra for the things she did, we have to hate on Hordak for the things he did too. And vice versa. They both had terrible pasts, a long list of crimes, but they're making up for it in their own ways. Redemption is a long road, but it's a good one.

Anyway, this is just my opinion and analysis on the whole thing, you don't have to agree, but let's try to get along alright? Fandom fights and shipping wars are never fun and I really think you guys take defending and attacking a fictional character from a fictional show way too seriously.

I still love Entrapdak so much but I'm not gonna attack Catradora or Catra Enjoyers over it. And if they say something about Hordak or Entrapdak I don't like? The block buttons right there. There's really no need for so much drama guys.

Thanks for listening 🙏🙏🙏

[torusonicpilled]

can we know more about the future au👀👀❓️

Alright I've been waiting for this, get ready for a really long lore dump... (click on keep reading so I don't clutter up the tags)

Future AU takes place 200 years after when-ever the main events of the game are. This would make Shadow 215 years old and Sonic 216 years old. Sonic: Sonic was created by a cult of former ARK scientists who wanted to create a version of Shadow specifically to be a weapon and without the Black Arms DNA. They used the DNA of a god and were successful (obviously.) However, Sonic at one point lost control of his power and destroyed everything, this event made him lose his memory. The first thing he did when he woke up was the nature around him, creating his free-spirited nature (contrast to how Shadow woke up seeing Maria for the first time.) All this lore is here to explain why Sonic is immortal. However because Sonic is immortal and the public is unaware of this, and basically the gods have their own secret cult that gave Sonic an ultimatum. Basically he could A) Die at around 40 but keep his freedom, however the earth he loves may one day be destroyed due to the lack of him protecting it. B) He lives long enough (around 110) for people to realize he is immortal like Shadow, and not wanting to waste their best protector against the planet, seals him away, freezing him and only take him out when they need him to save them, or C) fake his death and continuing living, but lose his humanity, never being able to be “Sonic the Hedgehog” again. Sonic also never made this choice, as Shadow was the one who decided. Shadow feels guilt over this even if Sonic has gotten over it at this point. 

Sonic goes through a major depression in the years 110-150, as he basically loses his identity and is struggling with that. Sonic eventually finds some old outfit Shadow has in the closet, and uses it to become a masked figure called “S.” He now saves people under S, his speed being from “technology” and a voice modulator hiding his voice. Sonic is insanely powerful in the future, so people start equating him to a “legendary hero” who only appears when a threat too strong shows up. (like how Silver acted when talking about Whisper in IDW #8.) 

Sonic still has a lot of his immature traits personality wise, however he is a lot smarter when it comes to combat, having experience in situations, as well as being extremely overpowered. 

Shadow: Due to Shadow being the ultimate lifeform, he’s allowed to still be in public and shows his face. Shadow leaves G.U.N after Rouge retires, as Team Dark disbands. Once Rouge dies, Shadow spends a lot of time with Sonic, as Sonic is going through it being dead in all but name. 

Around 130-140, Shadow created “Maria’s Solutions,” his own private organization for helping people. Shadow is someone people go to when people can’t go to police or other organizations for help. He accepts help from almost any client, however he is often avoided by the worst as his power is terrifying. Shadow is now a detective, negotiator, and bounty hunter all in one, as he is more knowledgeable and collected now. 

After Eggman's death, Shadow adopted Sage at his request, not having it in him to bring her offline. Sage has a duplicate robot body but she prefers to spend time with him on Shadow's phone. She helps him out in missions, with hacking and tech related problems. 

Shadow has other employees for Maria’s Solutions, however I’m still working on them. Main ideas include an innocent girl similar to Maria he’s taken a soft spot to, a robot like Omega who works as a maid around their house, etc. 

Silver: Silver will occasionally come back to check in on Shadow. Due to the deal they made, Silver can’t know Sonic is alive. However, due to a mishap, Silver finds out and becomes friends with S. Sonic likes spending more time with Silver so he hides this fact from Shadow, sometimes going on missions with Silver. 

Other info

Sonic and Shadow aren’t important to this world. Lots of organizations and people fight in this world, thus leaving Sonic to deal with world ending threats and Shadow his clients. Organizations include

Technology conglomerates

A church that worships Gaia

The restoration

Militaries

Sonic and Shadow are married with rings pierced in their ears, however they do not like to define relationships. 

Anyone who Shadow trusts enough will meet Sonic by accident, but calls him “S” either way. 

Knuckles can be spoken too by connecting with the master emerald, which is underneath Sonic and Shadow’s house in an underground facility. 

Tails reincarnates when he dies with an extra tail, however he gets his memories from his last 100 years only if he meets Sonic. They don’t meet until 130ish, where Sonic agrees to wait until Tails is 20 every time before he hunts for him. (this part I’m still working on.)

Sonic is a jack of all trades who can use any weapon to fight as he likes to switch it up. Shadow uses a gun and sword combo along with his chaos abilities. 

AU is more comedic despite the somber tone, as Sonic and Shadow are still Sonic and Shadow at the end of the day.

Well that was a lot but if you want more info send me another ask with more questions for me to answer

[ravenclaw-for-all-seasons]

Be my Valentine? Mattheo Riddle (1/2)

Mattheo Riddle had never been the type to get all soft and sentimental, which is exactly why his friends were completely dumbfounded when they caught wind of his elaborate plans for Valentine’s Day.

“You—you actually planned something?” Theo stammered, watching as Mattheo adjusted the bouquet of enchanted blue roses in his hands. They shimmered slightly, their petals shifting between different shades of blue—Ravenclaw colors, of course.

Draco narrowed his eyes. “You do realize what day it is, right? Valentine’s Day, not April Fool’s.”

Mattheo rolled his eyes. “Yes, Draco, I’m aware.”

Lorenzo let out a low whistle. “Wow. You’re really in deep, mate.”

Mattheo just smirked, shoving his friends aside as he made his way toward the Ravenclaw common room. The whole castle had been buzzing about the infamous Slytherin bad boy actually putting effort into something romantic—a rare sight, indeed.

But when he finally saw you, his usually cocky demeanor faltered just a bit. You were sitting by the fireplace, nose buried in a book as always, completely oblivious to the whispers of students watching to see what he'd do.

Clearing his throat, Mattheo stepped forward. “Happy Valentine’s Day, love,” he said, holding out the bouquet.

You blinked up at him, clearly surprised. “You… got me flowers?”

Mattheo chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well. They’re enchanted. Thought you’d appreciate the charm work.”

You smiled, setting your book aside and taking the bouquet. “They’re beautiful.”

The whispers around you grew louder as Mattheo suddenly pulled out a small wrapped box from his pocket. “And, uh, I also got you this.”

The entire room went dead silent.

Theo, watching from the entrance, nearly choked. “A gift too?! Is he possessed?”

Ignoring them, you unwrapped the box, revealing a delicate silver bracelet with a tiny raven charm dangling from it. Your heart melted. “Mattheo, this is—this is perfect.”

He shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, but the pink dusting his cheeks gave him away. “Figured you deserved something nice. You put up with me, after all.”

You grinned before standing on your toes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “You’re the best.”

Mattheo smirked, throwing an arm around you as he turned toward his dumbfounded friends. “See? Told you I could be romantic.”

Draco shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

Theo just sighed. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

But Mattheo didn’t care. Not when he had you smiling at him like that.

You laced your fingers through Mattheo’s, ignoring the way his friends were still staring at him like he’d grown a second head. It wasn’t every day that the infamous Slytherin bad boy voluntarily planned something thoughtful—let alone something as sweet as this.

Mattheo, never one to enjoy being the center of attention for this kind of thing, turned to his friends with an unimpressed look. “Are you lot done gawking, or should I put on a whole bloody performance?”

Theo crossed his arms. “I mean, at this point, you might as well. Maybe recite a sonnet?”

Draco snorted. “Or get down on one knee?”

Mattheo groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Merlin, you lot are insufferable.” But then he turned back to you, his fingers playing with the bracelet now fastened around your wrist. His voice dropped to something quieter, meant just for you. “I do have more planned, if you’re up for it.”

Your brows lifted in amusement. “Oh? What else does the great Mattheo Riddle have in store?”

He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you, now would it?”

Before you could respond, Pansy Parkinson strolled past, doing a double take when she saw the two of you. Her eyes flickered to the flowers, the bracelet, and the way Mattheo’s hand was still holding yours. “No way.” She turned to the group. “Alright, which one of you Obliviated him?”

Mattheo rolled his eyes, but before his friends could add more commentary, he tugged you toward the door. “Come on, love, let’s get out of here before they start a betting pool on whether or not I’ve lost my mind.”

“Too late,” Theo called after him.

As you walked down the corridor together, you looked up at him, your heart warm at the effort he’d put into today. “You really didn’t have to do all this, you know.”

He glanced down at you, his usual smirk softening. “I wanted to.” He squeezed your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You’re my girl, and I figured… well, you deserve something special.”

Your smile was radiant, and Mattheo felt something unfamiliar stir in his chest—something warm, something undeniably real.

You squeezed Mattheo’s hand, warmth spreading through you at his words. The boy who was known for his sharp tongue, reckless behavior, and general disregard for authority had just planned an entire Valentine’s surprise for you. If that wasn’t shocking enough, he actually seemed nervous about it—like he genuinely cared about making the day special.

“So,” you said, nudging him playfully as you walked, “where are you taking me, Riddle?”

His smirk returned, the mischief back in his eyes. “Patience, love. You’ll see soon enough.”

Despite the vague answer, he led you with confidence through the castle, his pace quickening as you reached the grand staircase. Students whispered as you passed, still in disbelief that Mattheo Riddle—the Mattheo Riddle—was walking hand-in-hand with his Ravenclaw girlfriend, looking genuinely happy about it.

When you finally reached the Astronomy Tower, you gasped softly. The usually cold and dimly lit space had been transformed. A thick enchanted blanket covered the stone floor, radiating warmth, while floating lanterns hovered around, casting a soft golden glow. A small spread of food was laid out—chocolate, fresh fruit, and what looked like your favorite pastries from Hogsmeade.

You turned to Mattheo, eyes wide. “You… did all this?”

He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets, but you didn’t miss the way his ears turned pink. “Well, I had some help with the food. Obviously I wasn’t about to bake or some shit.”

You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you did all this.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, his gaze meeting yours, something softer in his expression now, “I figured you deserved something nice. Something… I dunno, special.”

Your heart clenched. The notorious Slytherin troublemaker, the boy who acted like he didn’t care about anything, had gone through all this effort for you.

Overwhelmed with emotion, you stood on your toes and cupped his face, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. He stilled for half a second before melting into it, his hands settling on your waist, pulling you closer.

When you pulled away, you grinned. “You’re actually a big softie, aren’t you?”

Mattheo groaned, resting his forehead against yours. “Don’t let that get around, love. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

You giggled, tugging him down onto the enchanted blanket with you. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”

As the two of you sat together, sharing chocolate and watching the stars, Mattheo realized something—he didn’t mind being soft, not when it was with you.

[stellamarielu]

Hear me out babes (may I call you babes?)

Declan x reader who is Taggie's friend and has a secret daddy kink..it almost slips out while teasing so Declan makes sure it fully comes out later ;) and maybe some more of that "be the sweet thing we both know you are and take it like a good girl" type shit if ya feel like it? Love you and your writing so much!

daddy

declan o’hara x female reader

summary: you're mocking the way declan's daughter is always calling him daddy, but the teasing only has the two of you discovering something new about your preferences in the bedroom

content: nsfw, 18+, literally just porn with a sprinkle of plot, cursing, daddy kink, risky quickie, teasing, penetration, praise kink, him calling the reader good girl [duh], him calling reader babygirl [idk i blacked out], hair pulling, slightly degrading, kinda rough sex, pull out game strong on this one!

author’s note: you can call me whatever you want when you’re dropping requests like this in my inbox, god damn! i’ve had tons of taggie’s best friend x declan requests lately so i hope this can feed you all– i’m looking directly at the anon who said “what if reader was taggie’s best friend and declan bent her over the closest platform and fucked her brains out.” [fucked her brains out had me on the floor]

—

You were having dinner at the O’hara’s for the second time this week. You'd like to say you helped taggie cook, but really you just watched her stride around the kitchen and handed her different ingredients as you talked her ear off. Now, after all her hard work and little boasts of encouragement from you, you were both sat at the kitchen table finishing dinner and laughing. Her father was sat across from you shaking his head at the cackling going on between you and Taggie. You were having a hard time keeping your composure with him only being a few feet away. It was hard to focus- hard to act normal when you knew you’d be sneaking into his room later.

It wasn’t your fault Taggie’s dad was so hot, and it also wasn’t your fault that you'd been hooking up with him.

You weren’t proud of it- in fact you felt guilty for doing something as blatantly wrong as having sex with your best friends dad. But it was Declan. You'd had a massive crush on him since the first time you walked through Taggie's front door. Not to mention his wife recently left and he was walking around all sad and lonely, practically begging you to fuck him out of his sorrowful daze. It wasn't like you were some home wrecker, Declan was the one who had initiated it weeks ago. Pulling you aside after taggie had fallen asleep one night and practically ambushing you with dirty whispers and not so innocent touches. In retrospect you had been doing everything within your power to break him down; so it didn't come as a surprise when he finally gave in to temptation and took you against his bedroom door.

Regardless of who tempted who first, you were now in some kind of relationship. You weren't really sure what it was exactly, all you knew was that you couldn't keep your hands off each other which made things complicated seeing as though his daughter- your best friend- was always right there next to you.

Like right now, she was sitting next to you and chatting with her dad about something that happened earlier and you couldn't be bothered to pay attention. Instead, you were fixated on the man in front of you. Declan was leaned back in his chair, the top two buttons of his shirt undone and all you could do was stare at the exposed skin beneath it.

"You done?" His voice was breaking you out of your trance.

He was leaning forward and reaching for the empty plate in front of you. The grin on his lips told you he knew exactly what had you so zoned-out. In fact, he had probably unbuttoned his shirt on purpose just to tease you.

“It’s alright daddy, i’ve got it” Taggie was chiming in as she stood to her feet, stacking your plates on top of one another and carrying them across the room to the sink.

Daddy, a term of endearment for her father. The word sounded so sweet and innocent coming from her mouth. It was a name she called him frequently and each time she did, you couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to say it yourself. To use it as so many people often did, in the bedroom.

Now that Taggie was away from the table, you and declan were left sitting across from each other, just staring. An amused smile had taken over your face at Taggie's recently spoken words.

He raised an eyebrow mouthing “what?” in curiosity to the look on your face.

“Nothing… daddy” You were sing-songing almost silently underneath your breath, careful not to let taggie hear.

Declan's brows furrowed and his mouth fell open slightly as if he were about to respond when you abruptly stood from your seat and grabbed the remaining dishes off the table, striding over to join your best friend across the room.

Then, Declan was sitting alone, his mind reeling from hearing you call him that. A name exclusively reserved for his children. He never even thought about what it would sound like to hear it from your lips. But now, it took on an entirely different meaning, the way you said it with your eyes all wide and challenging. It was as if you needed him to put you in your place. declan was accustomed to being in control in the bedroom but that word, “daddy” had him craving the authority that hid beneath its meaning and your submission that came along with it. He needed to hear you say it again. Wanted to hear it as he railed into you from behind with your hair wrapped around his fist.

You were standing with Taggie at the sink and stealing the sponge out of her hand, demanding to do the dishes since she cooked. Then Declan was behind you muttering something about “You’re our guest you’re not doing the dishes” and ushering you both out of the way. This was followed by you retorting, “Guest? I’m here practically every night.” determined to do the chore at hand.

After you and declan argued a bit more over who would do the washing up, taggie gave in, leaving you both to take care of the mess.

She was grabbing a tinfoil covered plate off the counter and waltzing out the front door before either of you could protest. She had promised Lizzie left over bread pudding and told the two of you she would be right back as she walked out the door to their neighbors house.

In taggie’s mind she just left her best friend and her dad to clean up the kitchen while she ran a quick errand– harmless. But the reality of it was much less innocent. In fact, the second taggie was down the driveway declan was pawing at your waist.

“You think it’s funny teasin’ me in front of Tag like that? you’re gonna get us both in trouble.”

You turned slightly so that you were facing each other.

“I’m not the one with my entire chest out.” you were accusing him, finding the third button from his collar and popping it open to match the two preceding it.

“Wish you were” He was chiding playfully as he molded to your touch.

You let your hands explore his exposed chest, gliding over the smooth curls hiding underneath the undone material of his shirt.

“Say it again.” His eyes were burning into you as you traced his collarbones.

His voice was deep and gruff, skipping over the playful tone you had introduced moments before.

“Say wha-“ Your brows were furrowed at his command, confused as to what he wanted you to repeat, and then it hit you.

“Daddy?”

You looked up at him with a devious sparkle in your eye. You were completely joking earlier, just mocking his daughter when you had said it the first time at the dinner table. Never in a million years did you think he would be into that sort of thing. You’d had a lot of sex over the past few weeks, all of it hot and dirty and at times a bit kinky, but the word daddy had never once come up.

“Oh you like that? You filthy old man.” You were giggling, every word fell from your lips in a joking tone, but the look in declan's eyes was far from playful.

You'd seen him wearing that expression before. In fact, the last time he had that unchecked feral look in his eyes, he had three fingers in you, telling you to "take it like a good girl." while your eyes were watering from pleasure.

"Bend over." His words were simply spoken and his eyes were blown wide as he peered down at you.

"Declan-" you were ready to tell him no, that you couldn't, that the risk of getting caught was far grater than the reward of a quick fuck against his kitchen sink.

"I wasn't askin'."

His rough hands slid to your hips, his strong hold on you forcing you to pivot until the front of your body was pushed against the kitchen counter.

"Declan, Taggie-" you were beginning to express your worry of getting caught when he interrupted you, his breath hot on your neck.

"She’ll be gone for at least twenty minutes." He was roaming the expanse of your torso with his big hands, not leaving a single inch of your body untouched.

"We've got plenty of time." His whispers were in your ear as he stood behind you and the invitation of his warm embrace had you falling back into his touch.

"You gonna take it while I bend you over the counter sweetheart?"

This time his voice was taunting as he spoke against your neck. One of his hands was coming down to the hem of your dress, hiking it up to your waist in one quick movement.

"Yes"

You were giving in. You had to. Everything about his hands on your body and his words swimming in your brain made you willing to do anything he wanted– a slave to his touch.

"Yes, what?" The teasing tone was back in his words as he coerced you into saying the one word he desperately needed to hear. His fingertips were pushing between your legs running over the embarrassingly damp material of your underwear.

"Yes daddy."

As soon as you said it, the gentle touch of his fingertips against your clothed core turned into a firm grip. His palm was flat on your cunt as he cupped your heat, and the friction of it had you biting back a squeal.

"There you go."

He was so satisfied by the feeling of having your body in his grasp- all bent over for him, that he let you have a little taste of your own satisfaction. He was hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties and pulling them down, replacing the lace material with the pads of his fingertips as they played in the mess of arousal gathering there.

"This all for me sweet girl?"

He was cooing in your ear, with his fingers painstakingly gliding over your opening.

You were whispering out a hushed, "yes" in hopes that he would finally fill you with something. You were desperate for relief and knew Taggie would be back soon.

"What’s that? Couldn’t here ya."

He was enjoying himself, teasing as you were submitting to his every whim.

"Declan, we have to hurry." You were mumbling through a moan as your back arched, reminding the man behind you that you were meant to be racing against the clock of his daughter's inevitable return.

“What happened to my pretty little obedient girl huh? Not very nice to rush me.” As he spoke you felt his touch vanish from between your bodies.

A pitiful noise erupted from your mouth at the loss of his touch on you.

"Declan..." You meant for this name to come out as a stern warning but instead it was just another deplorable whine, and he still wasn't touching you. It was as if he were waiting for something. Waiting for you to be compliant with his need for dominance.

"Please daddy, I'll be good for you." You were mustering up the sweetest little voice you could manage and pushing your ass into his crotch.

"I promise." you were purring out a vow of compliance as you looked over your shoulder at Declan.

The second your eyes found his all filled with innocence, it was a wrap.

He was working at his pants in a frenzy, quick to get them off so he could line himself up with your center that was exposed and ready– all for him.

Your gaze was once again fixed forward but you could feel Declan's length at your backside threatening to finally push into you.

You were getting ready to say something– anything– when a surprised yelp escaped your lips.

He had plunged his cock all the way into you in one swift movement. The wetness already drowning your core was enough to let his member slip right in and slide deep inside, making you cry out in pleasure.

"Yeah? Gonna be good?" He was huffing out as his hands gripped onto your hips, hard.

"My good fuckin' girl." His voice was a groan as he pulled your hips back to meet his over and over again, his cock diving into you with each movement.

One of his hands was letting go of your hips and sliding up your body until you felt him intertwining his fingers in your hair and gently pulling at it as he buried himself deeper with each thrust. The slight yank of your hair causing a perverse moan to seep from your mouth.

Your lewd noise made Declan's pace quicken as he bottomed out with every thrust.

"You like it when daddy pulls your hair like that huh baby?"

He was relishing in the pleasure of your walls wrapped tightly around his cock and the power he had over you in this position. The surge of control was bringing out the most unholy parts of him, causing filthy words to fall from his tongue.

And with each word off his lips you could feel your walls clenching harder around him and your body tensing in anticipation.

"Fuck- are you gonna come already?" Declan could feel the way you were squeezing and squirming against him, he knew exactly how your body reacted to him when you were on the verge of release.

"That's pathetic baby."

His voice was jeering as he reached around your body and placed the smallest amount of pressure over your clit with the pad of his index finger. The careful touch was especially surprising to you given the way he was currently pounding into you from behind. Everything about the contrasting sensations had your abdomen burning with pleasure.

"Gonna give it to me sweetheart? Gonna be a good girl for me?" His voice was spilling out of him in the most sinful groan.

you were whining out a "yes daddy" as he continued driving into you, simultaneously pushing your hips back to meet each of his relentless thrusts.

it was all too much; his attentive strokes to your clit, his tight grip in your hair, his unyielding pace as he filled you with every inch of him. You could feel the tension building in your body ready to snap, and your legs threatened to give out underneath you.

Bracing yourself against the kitchen counter, you pressed your forearms against the cool surface.

"That's it babygirl." Declan's sinful chants were filling your ears as you allowed your release to wash over you. White hot pleasure shot through your entire body as you folded even further over the kitchen sink.

"There's my good girl."

His praise was a low murmur as he took in the way you were melting into him with relief. Your body gave into him completely as your grip around his cock tightened.

"Fuck look at you."

The astonishment in his voice made yet another pitiful whine slip past your lips. You were still trembling as he continued thrusting into you, his movements much slower than before.

"Came so fast. Ya needed me that bad babygirl?"

You couldn't bring yourself to speak, instead you just nodded your head pathetically as you remained slumped against the countertop.

"So fuckin' tight sweetheart." He was marveling at the feeling of your walls squeezing around him like a warm perverted hug.

He was picking the pace of his thrusts back up, unable to keep himself from giving in to how good it felt to have you bent over for him with your mind all dazed and your cunt pulsing.

With one hand pulling at your hair and the other grabbing at your waist, Declan was practically slamming himself into you, the breathy groans leaving his throat made your head spin.

"Feels so good daddy." You were mewling out a statement of flattery for the man currently ruining you, hoping your words held the same power of his.

Judging by the way his thrusts ceased and the fact that he was pulling out of you in mere seconds, your use of his new favorite nickname must've pushed him right over the edge.

He was using the hand at your waist to gather your dress higher on your body, ensuring that his eventual mess wouldn't ruin the material.

Thick, hot strands of come came pulsing out of him, covering his own fist and the exposed skin of your lower back. He fought to keep his eyes open as his orgasm pushed through him, watching the way his load spilled over your body.

You were both regulating your nervous systems and sharing a few smitten chuckles as Declan grabbed a nearby dishtowel to wipe away the evidence of your shared debauchery.

After a few minutes of normality and washing dishes, you watched through the kitchen window as Taggie made her way back up the driveway.

You and Declan shared one last brazen smile before going back to being nothing more than acquaintances.

"I'm back!" Taggie's voice filled the Priory like a song as she came bounding in the front door.

She entered the kitchen with a smile on her face as she took in the cleanliness of her surroundings, somehow you and Declan had managed to finish washing up after he fucked you over the kitchen counter.

"Look at that! My heroes." Taggie was exclaiming as she pulled you both into a loose embrace, you on her left and Declan on her right.

She proceeded to grab you by the forearm pulling you away from her father and toward the doorway of the kitchen; taking you back for herself so the two of you could go gossip and listen to music in her room.

"Oh daddy, Lizzie says hi by the way!" She was speaking to her father right as you were about to exit the room, and you couldn't help the smirk that found its way to your lips.

Declan's eyes found yours at the sound of the word and both of you were fighting back a laugh as Taggie hauled you to the stairs.

my masterlist

[lyn31]

🎼 Dress👗

Summary:

"Only bought this dress so you could take it off, take it off~" - Taylor Swift, Dress Starting with a secret relationship, stolen glances, subtle touch, marking each other and ended up with you waking up together. A collection of moment about your relationship with you childhood friend, best friend and as everyone else know him the stoic and strict doctor, Zayne. It's thrilling, it's sweet, and it's electrifying.

Disclaimer:

Alright listen, I love Caleb alright, as a friend, as a bro, he's like a brother that I never had so let me have this! My bro is still with me! But anyway... Fluff and technically AU Pairing: Zayne x Reader/MC

Ao3 link

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The room hums with conversation, laughter spilling over the clinking of glasses and the low pulse of music. Familiar faces, some barely changed, others worn by time, move through the dimly lit space, caught in moments of nostalgia.

Across from you, he leans back in his chair, effortlessly at ease. To everyone else, he’s just your best friend—same as always. The two of you, inseparable, yet nothing more. That’s what they think.

But then his eyes meet yours. Just for a second. A flicker of  longing that only you recognize.

You look away, pretending to listen to whatever story is being told beside you. He does the same, nodding along to a conversation he isn’t really part of. But the tension lingers, a thread pulling between you, tightening with every stolen glance.

No one here knows. Not your friends, not even the ones who know you best. And maybe that’s what makes this moment sharper, heavier. The secret tucked between smiles, the quiet thrill of pretending.

"Man, I still can’t believe it," someone says, shaking their head with a laugh. "You three? Still thick as thieves after all these years? How does that even happen?"

You barely have time to think of a response before Caleb jumps in, all easy confidence and that familiar grin. "What can I say? Some bonds don’t break. You spend enough time together, suffer through enough bad group projects, and suddenly you’re stuck for life."

Laughter ripples through the table, and you nod, playing along. "Yeah, at this point, cutting either of them off would feel like losing a limb."

"Aw, you’d miss us that much?" Caleb teases, nudging you lightly.

"You wish," you shoot back, and the group laughs again.

Zayne, as expected, doesn’t say much. He just sits there, quiet, unreadable, offering nothing but a small nod of agreement. To everyone else, it’s just him being himself—stoic, detached, not one for small talk. But you know better.

You feel it in the way his fingers tap idly against the table, a slow, familiar rhythm. You see it in the way his gaze flickers toward you, barely noticeable, but enough. It’s a reminder. A quiet acknowledgment.

And just like that, you’re back there—

Late nights spent in Caleb’s car, all three of you crammed inside, talking about nothing and everything. The glow of streetlights casting shadows over Zayne’s face as he stared out the window, quiet as always. You’d watch him, thinking about how unfair it was that someone could just exist like that—unbothered, impossible to read, while you sat there, heart twisted up in knots over him.

Inside jokes whispered across crowded hallways, his shoulder brushing yours as you walked side by side, the warmth lingering longer than it should. That moment in the library when he passed you his notes, fingers grazing yours, the briefest touch that sent something sharp and electric down your spine.

You remember waiting.

Waiting for a sign, for something solid, something more than the stolen glances and unspoken moments. But Zayne was always just out of reach, his walls too high, his silence impossible to read.

And you—too caught up in your own doubts to realize he was waiting, too.

You blink, pulled back into the present as Caleb keeps talking, effortlessly carrying the conversation. Around you, the reunion buzzes on—glasses clinking, old friends swapping stories, laughter rising over the hum of background music.

Zayne still hasn’t said a word. But under the table, where no one else can see, his fingers brush against yours. Just for a second. Just enough to remind you—

You aren’t waiting anymore.

A sharp voice jolts you out of your thoughts.

“Wait—hold on. When did you get that?”

You barely have time to process before Harper leans in, eyes locked on the ink at the nape of your neck.

“You got a tattoo?” she accuses, voice full of mock betrayal. “And you didn’t come to me?”

You blink, momentarily caught off guard. “Oh. Uh—”

“Wait—you have a tattoo?” Caleb cuts in, sounding equally shocked. His gaze flicks to your neck, then back to you, brows raised.

You wave a hand, shrugging like it’s nothing. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Caleb scoffs. “Not a big deal? You used to freak out over temporary tattoos lasting too long.”

Harper leans in more, squinting. “Hold on. That’s a smart ink heartbeat, isn’t it?”

Caleb pauses mid-sip, lowering his glass. “A heartbeat tattoo?” His brows shoot up. “Alright, now you have to tell me why.”

You roll your eyes. “There’s no story. I just liked it.”

Caleb tilts his head, grinning. “Right. Because nothing says ‘casual impulse’ like permanently inking a heartbeat on yourself.”

Harper snickers. “Yeah, whose is it?”

You shrug again, keeping your expression neutral. “Mine.”

Caleb gives you a long, unimpressed look. “Uh-huh.”

“What?” You fold your arms. “It is.”

“Sure,” he drawls, clearly unconvinced but not pushing further. Instead, he just grins wider. “Damn. Never thought I’d see the day.”

You roll your eyes, but before you can say anything, you catch movement from across the table. Instinctively, your gaze flicks to Zayne.

He doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t react. Just takes a slow sip of his drink, as carefully blank as ever. But beneath the table, his fingers brush against yours. Just a fleeting touch.

And suddenly, you remember exactly why you got it.

Not just because you liked it.

Because it was his.

And because every time you tie your hair up, every time his eyes catch on the exposed skin of your neck, every time his lips find the exact spot where the ink sits now—you remember.

You glance back up at him, but his gaze has already moved away, back to the rest of the room like nothing happened. Like he isn’t sitting there, knowing exactly what that tattoo means.

And Caleb—oblivious as ever—just leans back, shaking his head.

The night is winding down. The crowd has thinned, leaving only scattered groups of lingering classmates, voices softer now, laughter blending into the hum of the venue’s closing atmosphere. You weave through them, making your way back from the bar, ready to call it a night.

Near the entrance, Caleb is saying his goodbyes, but as soon as he spots you, his brows furrow slightly. “You’ve been drinking,” he points out, crossing his arms. “You shouldn’t go home alone. I can drive you.”

You shake your head with a small smile. “I’ll just take a cab, Caleb. It’s fine.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “Yeah, no, that’s not a great idea—”

Before he can finish, Zayne stands. “I’ll drive her.”

The words are calm, matter-of-fact. He rolls down his sleeves as he straightens, glancing briefly at Caleb. “I need to head home anyway.”

Caleb exhales, look relieved. “Alright. Guess that works.” He turns back to you, pointing. “Text me when you get home.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, dad.”

He smirks. “Damn right.” Then he claps Zayne on the shoulder in farewell. “Take care, man.”

With that, goodbyes are exchanged, and you and Zayne step out into the night.

The air is cooler now, crisp against your skin. You’re walking beside him, and without a word, he shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, his hands lingering for a second before he pulls away. His scent clings to the fabric, warmth still trapped in it from his body.

“Wouldn’t want you catching a cold,” he says, voice quieter now, almost absentminded—like it’s the most natural thing in the world. But there’s a softness to it, a quiet care that makes your chest tighten.

And yet, your mind is already drifting elsewhere—because damn, does he look good tonight.

It’s nothing over the top. With his jacket on you, he’s left in just a crisp white button-down, sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, tucked into tailored black slacks. Simple. Effortless. But there’s something about it—about the way the fabric stretches across his broad shoulders, about the way his arms look unfairly good like that, veins subtly lining his hands—

You’re too busy swooning to realize he’s stopped walking.

You only notice when you take another step and find yourself suddenly alone.

Blinking, you glance to the side—and meet his gaze.

He’s watching you, his expression unreadable, but there’s a small, knowing curve to his lips.

Then, he says your name. Just your name.

And somehow, everything else fades.

The city sounds dull, the cool air forgotten. It’s just him now. The sharp cut of his jaw in the dim streetlights, the way his dark eyes seem to pull you in, holding you there.

Something shifts in them.

“You’re not making this easy for me,” he murmurs, voice low.

You swallow. “What?”

He exhales, shaking his head slightly. “I’m good at controlling myself.” A pause. His gaze drags over you, slow, deliberate. “But not when it comes to you.”

Your pulse stutters.

His eyes trace the thin straps of your dress, the way it exposes your shoulders, your neck—the backless cut hidden beneath his jacket, the slit running high along your leg.  

He already liked the dress when he first saw you tonight. You know that. But right now, under his gaze alone, you can feel it.

Then he leans in slightly, his voice quieter now. “What do you think this dress does to me?”

You should be embarrassed. Flustered. And maybe you are, judging by the heat creeping up your neck.

But instead, you square your shoulders and meet his gaze head-on.

“I hope it’s a good one,” you say smoothly. “I bought this dress so you could take it off, after all.”

It comes out steady, confident. But the second the words leave your mouth, heat spreads—your ears, your cheeks burning.

Zayne’s reaction is instant. His pupils darken, something unrestrained flickering in his eyes. For a moment, he just looks at you, unmoving.

Then you notice it.

His ears.

The tips of them, red.

A slow exhale leaves him, and then he steps closer, his voice lower now, edged with something rough.

“Then I better get started on that,” he murmurs. “Preferably not on the sidewalk.”

Just like that, the tension shifts—still charged, but laced with teasing.

You let out a breathy laugh, but your heart is still hammering.

Because the night is far from over.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s rare for the three of you to get a day off at the same time.

With the way schedules clash—your shifts, Zayne’s surgeries, Caleb’s unpredictable workload—it almost never happens. So when it finally did, Caleb had immediately suggested the three of you hang out.

And you… may have dodged that invitation.

Just this once.

Because as much as you love Caleb, it had been too long since you and Zayne had a day off together. Just the two of you.

And now, here you are.

After spending the entire day lazing around at home, barely leaving the couch between naps, movies, and tangled limbs, you’re now soaking in the warmth of the bathtub, wrapped up in the scent of lavender and the heat of Zayne behind you, his chest firm and solid behind you, the rise and fall of his breathing steady—except for when his lips find your neck.

Again.

And again.

His mouth brushes lazily over your tattoo, lingering like he’s reminding himself it’s there. Like he’s claiming it all over again.

His fingers, damp and slow, skim down your arm, tracing absentminded patterns on your skin before they wander lower, teasing.

A shiver runs through you, and you tighten your grip on your wine glass, trying to focus on not reacting too much.

It was fine. Nice, even. Until suddenly—

His fingers shift.

And—oh.

The touch catches you off guard, a sharp, unexpected spark zipping down your spine. Your body jolts—and in the process, your grip on the wine glass wobbles.

Then, it happens.

The glass tips back.

A slosh of red spills right behind you.

Right onto Zayne.

There’s a beat of silence.

You turn slightly—just in time to see the aftermath.

Zayne’s expression is blank, lips parted slightly in delayed realization, his usually sharp features now half-covered in deep red. A drop of wine drips down his cheek, staining the pale skin of his throat.

He blinks once. Then, slowly, his tongue flicks out, tasting the stray droplet at the corner of his lips.

And that’s it.

Laughter erupts from you, full and unrestrained.

“You—” You can barely get the words out between breaths. “You look like a crime scene.”

Zayne exhales through his nose, lifting a hand to wipe at his face, but it only smears the wine further. You’re still giggling as you shift forward, already moving to climb out of the bath.

“Okay, I’ll grab a towel,” you say between laughs. “You should probably—”

Before you can finish, an arm wraps firmly around your waist.

You barely have time to yelp before you’re pulled right back against him.

The water sloshes over the edges of the tub as you settle on his lap, straddling him now. His arms tighten, caging you in.

You blink down at him.

Zayne blinks back up at you.

His eyes are slightly unfocused, his usually sharp demeanor softened by the alcohol in his system.

Oh. Oh.

You’ve seen Zayne like this before.

Drunk Zayne is rare, but when it happens, one thing is guaranteed—he clings.

And right now? That’s exactly what he’s doing. Sometimes you forget how much of a lightweight he is. Well, lightweight is generous—he really can’t handle alcohol at all, which is probably another reason he avoids it.

His lips brush your cheek, then your jaw, then your nose, peppering soft, uncoordinated kisses, like he has no plan other than covering you in them.

“Zayne,” you try, still half-laughing. “We should get out—”

He hums against your skin, clearly not listening.

His kisses trail lower.

The warmth of his mouth follows the curve of your throat, lingering just below your ear before drifting down.

Your fingers, still damp from the water, absently trace along his chest, gliding over familiar ink.

The thin, sharp line of his tattoo.

Your tattoo.

The heartbeat that matches yours, sitting right over his heart.

You trace the design slowly, feeling the way his muscles shift beneath your touch. Zayne exhales slightly, his body relaxing further against you, but there’s something more in his gaze now—something heated, something deeper.

Your pulse flutters.

Then, your lips curve, eyes flicking back to his.

“Want to continue this out of the tub?”

Zayne blinks at you, momentarily dazed, before letting out a soft chuckle. His hands tighten at your waist.

And then, his lips trail lower again, moving down—

And, well.

Looks like you’re staying in the tub a little longer.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You wake up to the sight of Zayne’s face, close enough that you can see the faint traces of sleep still clinging to him—the slow rise and fall of his breathing, the way his lashes flicker slightly, the softness in his usually sharp features.

For a moment, you just watch him, warmth settling in your chest.

Then, memories from last night creep in.

Meeting up with Caleb.

Planning to finally tell him about you and Zayne.

You had expected some kind of shock—maybe even a dramatic reaction—but instead, Caleb had just grinned.

A big, knowing, downright cheeky grin.

And then, he said, “Took you long enough.”

That had been enough to send you into stunned silence. Zayne, ever composed, had simply exhaled through his nose in mild amusement.

Meanwhile, you had barely managed a flustered, “Wait, what?”

Caleb had just laughed, shaking his head. “Come on. You guys thought you were being subtle? I was just waiting to see how long it would take. Honestly, way longer than I predicted.”

You had groaned, covering your face with both hands as Caleb continued to tease, thoroughly enjoying the moment.

And then—just to really make a point—he had said, “By the way, if you two ever have a kid, I’m calling dibs on godfather.”

At the memory, a smile tugs at your lips, amusement bubbling up all over again.

That’s when you feel movement beside you.

Zayne shifts, his brows furrowing slightly before his eyes flutter open—heavy-lidded and still hazy with sleep.

He takes one look at you, then lazily scoots closer, burying his face against your chest with a soft sigh.

A chuckle escapes you.

“Good morning,” you murmur, running a hand through his sleep-mussed hair.

He doesn’t reply—just hums against your skin, his arms tightening slightly around your waist.

You glance at the clock. It’s still early.

Cuddling for a little while longer wouldn’t be a bad idea.

So you settle in, wrapping your arms around him, feeling the steady warmth of his body against yours.

Zayne exhales, his hold on you easy, content, as he nuzzles against your chest.

And just like that, neither of you are in any hurry to move.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’re curled up on the couch, scrolling through your phone while waiting for Zayne to arrive. The soft glow of your living room lamp casts a cozy warmth around you, and the smell of sweet tea lingers in the air. You’d already set out his favorite snacks—anything sugary, because your serious, stoic boyfriend has the sweetest tooth.

No alcohol tonight, though. As much as you want to... You have a morning shift tomorrow.

Your thumb pauses on the screen when a post about a dress catches your eye. It’s elegant, a little daring, and something about it reminds you of the dress you wore to your reunion a few months ago. That dress—Zayne’s reaction to it—how he looked at you, touched you...

You glance down at yourself now—loose, comfortable clothes, what you usually wear at home. Practical, sure, but maybe not the most exciting choice.

Thinking for a moment, you finally push yourself up and head to your room.

Just as you’re adjusting the fabric of your outfit in the mirror, you hear the front door open.

“I’m home,” Zayne calls out, his voice steady and familiar.

Something about hearing him say home makes warmth bloom in your chest. You shake the feeling off, smoothing down your dress before stepping out of your room.

Zayne has just finished putting his things away when he turns toward you—and stops.

His gaze moves over you, slow and deliberate, and you see the exact moment something shifts in his expression.

“Looks like I’m a little underdressed for the occasion,” he says, his voice laced with amusement as he starts walking toward you.

You don’t move—just let him take you in, knowing he’s enjoying every second of it.

When he reaches you, he lifts a hand, fingers sliding gently through your hair, gathering it together and lifting it up, exposing the nape of your neck.

“Perfect,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin before he leans in and presses a kiss just below your ear.

A shiver runs down your spine.

Then he kisses you.

Your arms wind around his neck as his hands travel down—trailing from your hair to your neck, then lower, fingers brushing over your shoulders, playing with the thin straps of your dress.

Between kisses, he hums, teasing, “I’m supposed to take this off, right?”

You can feel his smile against your lips.

Your own smile mirrors his as you pull him in closer.

“Well,” you say, voice light, playful, “that was the plan.”

Zayne chuckles, his breath warm against your skin. “Then I better not waste any time.”

And with that, the night truly begins.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes:

I'm framing this like a slow pace montage, following the song yk, which is why it's keep jumping, and If I do say myself it turn out alright! Love this song, love fluff and ofc love Zayne lol I just wish I can highlight more of Zayne's behavior but I feel like this fit the song vibes and lyrics more, next time then. If anyone has ideas about Zayne, I’m open to hearing them! This new hyperfixation needs to be quelled…....

[salmondays]

personally i think mirabelle and loop could have a little fake dating situation at some point. mirabelle's the savior AND shes pretty AND shes nice. everyone loves her. but it makes her really really uncomfortable to be flirted with, ESPECIALLY by strangers. but on the other hand we've got loop, who's Always going to be sticking out like a sore thumb.

they'll never fit in to the party like they once did. isabeau's already taken (not that they'd want to make it official, anyway- it feels almost like a betrayal of their isa, yknow?) (though he would absolutely be all "woah! two cakes!" if loop actually wanted to join him and sif's little thing), they don't fit into the established siffrin-places in the routines. they look like- as i've seen someone else put it- an "abstract fetish object." they're inhuman. they're Something Else Now.

so, post-canon but Before mirabelle's had her aro realization, she's venting about getting bothered by creepy strangers, and she offhandedly mentions a scene from one of her books- a fake relationship with a monster, who protected the protagonist from rival monsters (...thinly veiled omegaverse or werewolf romance fake dating dating trope that i've seen quite a lot). loop has a lightbulb moment where the tiny siffrin (quite a large siffrin, actually- not that they'd want to admit that) in their brain is like. 'wait oh my stars could i actually??? help?? here?? i'm in the perfect situation to help the housemaiden??? like for realsies?? i can be useful?? finally, one good thing my monstrous and sickening inhumanity can do!' and theyre like. "well, housemaiden, perhaps i can help! one inhuman being, at your service!" and offers to fake date her at events to scare people away.

and mirabelles like. look. if this were anybody else id be like ew. but you are: 1.) my friend. my bestie 2.) SO fucking cool 3.) probably better at dealing with this than anyone else would be 4.) abrasive enough 5.) possessing a certain "scary dog privilege", akin to blorbeaux from my books

so they give it a try at an event and working together to turn it from "EW IM BEING HIT ON EW EW EW EW" to "oh lets get Funny with it". mutual benefit. they both get enrichment AND mirabelle gets to be left alone. loop gets to feel like they have a reason to be present (rather than just a horrific shadow in the corner of the room). yes, they're still a monster, they scare people away, but it's Useful and theyre Helping and theyre having fun fucking with people in a more genuine way rather than just in a lashing-out way. they're having fun! loop gets to see mirabelle having fun at a party instead of constantly wincing away from strangers flirting with her!

but. after a while of doing this, mirabelle Thinks About It. and is like. well, in the books, when they do this, it eventually leads to Real Romance. shes like well. thats how the trope goes. maybe itll be good for me. maybe ill come out of this a Better Person when we inevitably slip into (throws up in mouth) Real Fake Dating.

and. she doesnt know shes aro yet. so shes going into this gritting her teeth like "its just like blorbeaux from my books its just like blorbeaux from my books. theyre a monster (SORRY LOOP), so its cool! its awesome even! they don't even have genitals! they're alien enough that i'd never have to... do That with them, right? so everything's alright! i should be fine! i shouldn't mind too much!" and then shes like dreading the inevitable plottwist of "ohhh i loved you all along lets be together for realsies".

every aspect of it being real is like. she should want this. she... will want this, eventually, someday, right? and time goes on and her feelings dont change and she just gets more and more scared that she's dug herself in too deep and is going to hurt or lose her friend.

eventually, she breaks down about it. and loop grabs her by the shoulder and is like. housemaiden. its okay. we can stop our fake dating if you want. i came into this knowing that you didnt want a real romance. youre my.... (throws up in not-mouth at the thought of being genuine) friend. i just wanted to help you, but if it's stressing you out, we can- and then mirabelles like OH THANK CHANGE. CAN WE AGREE TO NEVER EVER EVER MAKE THIS A REAL ACTUAL THING. NO OFFENSE.

and then they both have a full conversation about All Of That. and mirabelle realizes some things about herself and yaayyyy yippee :) everything is fine again yay :)

[itsacruelsummerbaby]

THE PATH WE CHOOSE

There’s a group of girls who only audit his class because of him–you’re one of them. But with you, there’s a pull, one he wants to resist so he can make you a proper student of his.

pairing: Spencer Reid x reader || tags: post-prison!Spencer, fem!reader, age gap, professor-student relationship || wc: 3.2k

It’s quite a big disappointment to find out you are only attending his classes as a guest to see him, not because you’re that interested in the topic. But he can’t be mad at you, he’s far too gone in a fantasy world to care about the why; all that matters is that you’re there, looking at him with those beautiful wide, shining eyes, occasionally biting on those rosy lips of yours.

What he would give to have a taste of them.

But then he manages to swim back to the surface from the depths of his thoughts, returning his focus on the class. The class that’s full of young women who are sitting in the front row with that dreamy look on their faces, admittedly auditing probably just to see him. Is his subject really so boring? To him, it’s everything but, yet the number of actual students is concerning. It’s easy to wonder what’s the point of this.

Surprisingly, he grew to enjoy teaching, which always makes him smile, because over ten years ago he would have freaked out in front of a crowd like this. But spending time with his second family taught him a lot, it evolved his social skills, so now he was truly in his element here. Not as much as he was in the BAU, but enough to think about this as a permanent thing after leaving the team.

Because sooner or later it will happen, he can’t do that job forever. It’s too demanding, it’s too dangerous, and maybe one day he will wish for a simple life that doesn’t involve serial killers. Yes, if he keeps teaching, he will talk about them, but at least he wouldn’t be actively hunting them. That’s better. Safer. And maybe he can finally think about having a proper relationship, about marrying someone one day, or even about having a child, maybe…

It would be with you.

Damn it, no, stop, he tells his brain as he leans back in the chair in the bullpen, pressing the heels of his hands to his forehead. He’s been having these same thoughts since he last saw you in class a week ago, repeating in his mind over and over and over again like a broken record, plaguing every moment of his days and nights. He can’t remember ever being so obsessed with another human being, which sometimes truly scares him.

There will be a day when you won’t show up. There will be a class that will be the very last time he sees you, and the thought scares him. But if he could convince you to attend his class officially, not just auditing it, then he would have more time to spend with you. And more time can give him the chance to show you just how good he could be to you.

Oh, come on, stop already, he practically yells at himself on the inside.

“Is everything okay?” Penelope’s cheerful voice is acting like a beacon that shows him the way back to reality, and when he looks over at her, refusing–or rather not really knowing how–to answer, she playfully boops his nose with the top of her pen. “Alright, genius, talk to me. What’s on your mind?”

“I’m just… It’s a student I can’t stop thinking about.” With a dramatic hum, she sits on the edge of his desk and twirls the pen in her hand as she waits for him to continue. “I’m not an idiot, I know perfectly well there is a group of girls who are only auditing my class because they think I’m “cute” as one proper student pointed out a few weeks ago,” he begins to explain.

Before he can move on, Penelope’s eyes widen as she gasps. “She’s one of them, isn’t she? Because she must be one of those girls, otherwise you wouldn’t have mentioned it,” she points out.

He closes his eyes as he leans back, then lets out an annoyed groan. It’s not directed at his friend, more like at the situation in general. Why can’t he simply forget you exist? It would make things so much easier, but no, his memory is forcing him to remember everything about you.

In the end, he looks back at his friend, but before he could say anything, she lets out a laugh. “Oh, wait, you actually like this girl, don’t you?” Penelope asks, leaning down so she can keep her voice down. “Oh, my God, this is so adorable. What’s her name? I want to know everything about her, and you know how good I am at this.”

That’s true; she’s the master of snooping around, finding out everything about people from behind the computer screen, and if she wants to help, who is he to stop her? Maybe she will find a dark secret that can finally make him forget about you, although deep down he highly doubts it could work.

Less than half an hour later he leans back in the swivel chair in Penelope’s office, staring at the ceiling as he tries to process what she has found out about you. There was no dark secret, not even a simple red flag, you’re just as perfect as you look. You have excellent grades, you’ve been playing lacrosse since high school, and you’re working at a vet clinic after school.

“She’s smart, kind, and pretty. So, if she’s not a student of yours, maybe you could ask her out,” Penelope suggests, earning a surprised look from him. “I know, I know, she’s a little younger than you–”

“A little?” Spencer asks with a doubtful edge to his voice.

“Listen, I’m saying this as your friend. There’s a girl who obviously likes you, one who’s probably intelligent enough to keep up with your beautiful brain, you should give this a chance. Just one date, that’s all.”

He exhales slowly as he thinks, trying hard to decide what to do. “Maybe you’re right,” he begins, and Penelope squeals from happiness, which he shuts down with a raised hand, “but she also seems interested in the class. She answers if I ask them a question, she’s taking notes, so if I can convince her to take the class properly, she might choose this career in the end.”

His friend only rolls her eyes. “Right. You really want her to choose her career over you?” she wonders.

Spencer nods. “She’s talented, it would be a shame if she wasted it just to be with me.”

“You’re my best friend, you know that, but right now you’re an idiot. Do what you want, don’t get me wrong, but in the end you’ll regret choosing this path with her,” she tells him with a shrug.

With a sigh, he looks up at the ceiling. Maybe there is no right choice, maybe it doesn’t matter what he does, the result will be the same. If he asked you out, then what? You can still say no and break his heart with that. “I’m screwed,” he mutters as he closes his eyes.

Don’t get too hooked on his stupidly handsome features and beautiful brain. 

As you’re sitting in your car in the parking lot, your forehead resting against the steering wheel, you keep repeating this sentence like a mantra. Maybe if you say it enough times, you will be able to resist his charm. 

Dr. Spencer Reid is the bane of your existence, the reason why you can’t sleep at night, why you’re losing your grip on reality. These days you’ve been daydreaming more and more often, imagining a life where he genuinely cares about you, where you’re his girlfriend. 

It’s ridiculous, you know it, and you should get him out of your mind, especially because he’s your professor. He’s off-limits. But how? You don’t know what could be the best solution, the medicine to your suffering. 

You’re knocked out of your thoughts by a sudden knock on the window. “Fuck,” you mutter with a groan.

Jonah is watching you with a huge smile on his face, even waving at you before signaling to get out of the vehicle. You inhale and exhale to push your previous thoughts aside, then open the door to do as he wishes. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks while you lock the car.

You nod, then begin to follow him towards the entrance of the building, feeling as your heart rate keeps crawling higher and higher. You don’t want to go to class, not today, not when you’re ovulating and have all those nasty thoughts about the guy who’s gonna talk in the next hour and half. 

“You know what I still can’t wrap my head around? Why are you attending Dr. Reid’s class?” he brings up the topic you would rather avoid. 

Since your answer isn’t the one he would probably like to hear, you just shrug. “I don’t know, maybe I just wanna know if I should take it next semester,” you lie.

But is it really a lie? 

He lets out a thoughtful hum while you both occupy your usual places in the second row. It’s close, but not too close. Just perfect. You take out your laptop from its case, but before you could open it, you freeze, because you can hear the chatter around you die, and you feel a pair of eyes on you–and it’s not your friend’s.

No, these are the beloved professor’s hazel eyes, and when you raise your gaze to meet his own, the murmurs around you fade away, making it feel like it’s just the two of you there. But it doesn’t last long, he quickly looks down at his watch, then claps his hands once to get the class’s attention. 

Half an hour later a chat message pops up on your laptop, and you glance at your friend when you see he’s the one who chose this silent way of communication. 

Jonah: Are you sure you’re not just trying to please Reid to get his attention by being active during class despite not going for the grades?  Jonah: No shaming, he’s good-looking in a nerdy way, I get it if you’re head over heels for the guy. You: I have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s an interesting topic, I can’t help myself. Also, he’s not my type.

A big fat lie. Bravo.

Jonah: Sure. 

Blowing out the air you’ve been subconsciously holding, you shake your head and return your attention to the lecture. It’s another anecdote, the story of a dangerous serial killer, a cannibal, no less. 

Jonah: Have you noticed that he keeps looking at you? Or am I just seeing this because we’re talking about him?

You shoot him an angry look, then simply close the messaging app. But he doesn’t give up, your phone starts buzzing, the screen lighting up to show you the previews of his messages.

During today’s class, Spencer often has a brief second when he forgets what he was talking about. It doesn’t last long, his students probably don’t even notice the brief break in his speech, but to him, this equals a disaster. He’s not like this, he doesn’t just trail off for no reason.

Well, okay, not for no reason. All he can think about whenever his eyes fall on you are Penelope’s words.

Is convincing you to take his class properly the right choice? She was right, he feels something, a pull that can’t be ignored that easily, and if a day when you’re not simply auditing his class comes, he would lose his chance to ask you out on a date. You would be his student, so he would have to face the consequences if he dared to make a move on you. 

But then he asks a question, and you’re one of the three students who bother to raise their hands. He doesn’t miss the way the young man on your right snickers at the sight of you being so involved, but he can also see you shoot a warning look at him. It’s hard not to wonder what this is all about, what previous conversation triggered this silent exchange–because there had to be a reason. 

In the next few milliseconds, he has to make a choice. Should he ask you? He wants to see if you got the answer right, but at the very same time he has his doubts about talking to you. 

He has never done that, and he has no idea what it would lead to. Would he simply fall deeper into this rabbit hole of emotions? Would his voice give away that he’s uncertain about everything when it comes to you?

In the end, he gathers the strength to say your name.

And you got it right. Oh, that beautiful brain of yours. 

Years of training led to an annoying habit, though. He instinctively profiles people in situations, just like he’s profiling you now while moving on with today’s lecture. He could hear that slight tremble in your voice which gave away that you were nervous–was it because you weren’t sure about the answer, or because you had to talk to him? 

For the rest of the class, he tries to focus on what he has to say, doing his best not to look at you, but it’s hard. The temptation is there, and after a while he finds himself scanning the crowd of students only for his gaze to linger a second too long where you’re sitting. When your eyes meet, you bite on your lower lip and look down at your laptop. 

He eventually dismisses the class, but then he opens his mouth and your name spills out without a warning. You look surprised, and for a moment he wonders if he made the right call. What should he bring up? His plan to convince you to take his class properly, or to ask you out on a date? 

Maybe this wasn’t his brightest idea. 

Every fiber in your body wants to run as far from him as possible. He’s a profiler–a really good one–he definitely notices simple things like someone having a crush on them. You’re not even sure if you can keep up a conversation with him for longer than a minute before your thoughts trail off, moving on to his sharp jawline you love so much. 

You’re only a visitor here, if he finds you have a crush on him, he might ask you not to come back. But how could you stay away when seeing him is like a drug, giving you the kind of sweet high that can recharge your batteries faster than anything? 

Your legs are shaking as you move closer to him, but you focus on your breathing. Inhale. Exhale. And again. And again. It can’t be that bad, it’s just a brief conversation. Yes, that’s what you have to focus on. Inhale. Exhale. And repeat. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks you when you get close enough. 

Nodding, you gulp and pull on the strap of your laptop bag over your shoulder. “Is something wrong, Professor Reid?” 

He hesitates for a moment, or so you think it’s hesitation, and then he licks his lips, a move that sparks your imagination. No, no, you shouldn’t think about what you want that tongue to lick, or what he must taste like. Stop, enough, you tell yourself. You take a deep breath as you wait, your heart beating so fast it might jump out of your ribcage.

“There’s something I don’t understand,” he begins as he folds his arms over his chest. “You’re taking notes, you’re interacting in class, you remember things, yet you’re only auditing this class. Why don’t you take it properly? You’re good, you would get good grades, or,” he says, but trails off.

What is it that he wanted to say? “Or?” you say, the words coming out before you could stop yourself.

Dr. Reid lets out a sigh as he rests his hips against the edge of his desk. “You have talent, you would be a good profiler,” he admits. 

That’s flattering, really, but not what you want to hear. 

“Look, why don’t you take my class next semester? Until then, you could join us for a summer internship at the FBI,” he suggests casually.

Your eyes widen from surprise, because that you haven’t expected. Wow, an internship? And what was that us? Did he mean the FBI in general, or his team, the BAU? If it was the latter, that would be the coolest thing ever. Except… 

Except you would spend more time by his side. Pure torture. 

You take a deep breath, then somehow manage to force yourself to look at him. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” At first, he gives you a surprised look, but then a barely visible smile appears on his lips as he nods. “Where do I apply for that internship?”

“I’ll help you from the inside and get everything ready. Hopefully you’ll only have to take care of the paperwork,” he explains. 

There’s something about his voice, the way it becomes just a tad bit higher, his speech speeding up more and more with each word he says, and there’s a slight tremble from either nervousness or excitement. If you didn’t know any better, you would say he sounds exactly like a guy who’s talking to his crush for the first time to ask her out. But could that be the case? It seems highly unlikely, it must be your imagination.

The offer is nice, though. You’re only doing this because it would be nice to work there.

Great. Now you’re lying to yourself too.

Back in his office, Spencer picks up his phone from the desk and looks for Penelope’s contact. It’s her fault, the least she can do is listen to his ramblings about what he’s just done. It rings once, twice, at the third ring he begins to wonder why she’s not picking up, but then he hears her cheerful voice and lets out the air he’s been holding. 

“Remember that girl from my class? I think I just promised to get her an internship at the BAU,” he says quickly. 

There’s silence on the other end of the line for a few moments, but then she goes, “Oh, Spencer, when I told you to ask her out, I mean dinner, or a movie, not a summer internship she can spend by your side.”

He lets his forehead hit the desk with a loud thud. “I’m an idiot.”

“When it comes to her? Yes, you are,” Penelope agrees, then lets out a sigh. “Okay, why don’t you come over tonight? We could order something to eat and watch a movie. And we can talk about her if you feel like it.”

“Sure,” he agrees, even though he just wants to crawl into a hole and die right now.