#i want you to have nice moments that make you smile

[navybrat817]

Cooking Together

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky asks you to cook a meal with him.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Fluff, longing, pining, canon divergent neighbor AU, flirting of sorts, mention of HYDRA, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Short and sweet for @stellar-solar-flare’s Starry Winter Sky Event! I went with cooking together and Neighbor AU as a small expansion of this nonsense. February has had some lingering January energy, and I hope you enjoy what I was able to write! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

If you asked Bucky if he thought he was a good cook, he’d say he was decent. He retained some of what his mom taught him many years ago and he carefully followed recipes once he was completely free of HYDRA. It was admittedly a bit of a rough go at first. Being able to choose what he could eat was a foreign concept after he didn't have the choice for so long. It got better each day. Every single meal he got to reclaim a piece of himself by making the choice of what he did and didn’t want.

Until today, he always cooked alone.

“Thanks for inviting me over,” you smiled, graciously accepting the apron he handed you.

Bucky had moved into the building a few months ago and you lived across the hall. As far as neighbors went, you were the best. Since day one, you always greeted him with a smile and a kind word. You never played your music too loud or disturbed anyone. Alpine adored you, which told him everything he needed to know since she was the best judge of character. And you never once objected to looking out for her when he had to leave for a mission.

Out of paranoia, he left harmless little “traps” to see if you'd snoop through anything the very first time you went over. Nothing that would hurt you or draw your attention, of course, but something that would let him know if anyone tampered with anything. You didn't. You were a genuinely good and respectful person, and that made him trust you more.

“Thanks for accepting the invitation. And allow me,” he offered, stepping behind you to help you tie it. His fingers lingered on the fabric and he took the moment to inhale your sweet scent before he stepped away. He didn't want to be a creep. “And it’s the least I could do since you offered to watch Alpine. Again.”

“I love watching her. She’s wonderful.”

The photos you sent were something he always looked forward to when he was away. Some of the captions you added made him laugh and smile. His favorite was a selfie you took with Alpine’s cheek against yours. He saved it as “my girls”, which you weren’t aware of.

Because you technically weren’t his girl.

“Well, she adores you,” Bucky smiled. He adored you, too. It stunned him when he found out you were single, and he was selfishly thankful for that. 

“I’ll have to get her another toy,” you said, your lips curling in a small smile. “If that’s okay with you.”

He laughed, a warm and easy sound. “Between the two of us, she’s spoiled rotten and she wouldn’t want it any other way.”

He never expected to be a cat dad, but life surprised him. In fact, it also surprised him that Alpine wasn’t camping out nearby or brushing against one of your legs. She was a smart cat and likely somehow sensed that he wanted alone time with you.

“Well, she deserves it,” you winked before things went quiet.

One of the nice things about hanging out with you was that he didn't mind any bouts of silence. They didn’t feel awkward or tense. In those quiet moments and stolen glances he felt like he had the best conversations with you. He was happy and felt safe being in the same space as you.

“You know,” Bucky began as he set the ingredients on the counter. He lucked out by having a decent sized kitchen since he took up a lot of space. “If I was a better neighbor, I would've just cooked a meal for you while you relaxed.”

It felt romantic for the two of you to cook together, but you weren't together and now he felt like an idiot. A gentleman would've made you a meal and pampered you. Or take you out for a nice meal. He hadn’t dressed up, opting for his jeans and a trademark Henley while you wore a sundress that had his mind racing with both sweet and filthy images. He didn't have flowers for you either.

His “game”, as Sam would say, was rusty.

“You're a great neighbor, Bucky. The best neighbor I’ve had,” you defended. He tried to be a good neighbor and person. A minor way to make up for some of his forced wrongdoings. “And cooking something together is fun! We could even try something at my place next week if you'd like.”

Bucky almost knocked the salt over, his eyes wide. “Really?” You were inviting him over to do this again?

“Yeah, really,” you replied, taking a moment to scan the simple recipe in the cookbook. You always had the cutest expression when you concentrated on something, and he didn’t want to choose something too difficult for the first meal. “We can take turns picking things out to try and trade off cooking at your place and mine. You can even bring Alpine over if you want.”

He suddenly had the image of you in his arms, dancing around the kitchen as you both waited for a meal in the oven to cook. Soft music, low lighting, his hands on your hips, and a tender smile on your face. Stealing a gentle kiss and keeping his eyes open only for a moment so he could see for himself that it wasn't a dream.

“Yeah,” he breathed, pulling his hair back in a ponytail and washing his hands to distract himself from his thoughts. “I’d really like that.”

“Great,” you exhaled. His heart beat faster when he caught you staring. He liked to pretend the look in your eyes was longing. “Sorry. You just…” you cleared your throat and gestured to his head. “You have really nice hair.”

The compliment had his heart racing even faster. “I have nice hair?” he asked. Your fingers would feel amazing in his hair.

You ducked your head for a moment before you met his gaze with a soft smile. “Yeah, you do.”

“Thanks,” he smiled back, his shoulder brushing yours when he stood beside you. Electricity lightly cracked between you. Did you feel it, too? “Um, I peeled the carrots before you got here. Would you like to cut them?”

“Oh, I think you’re better with a knife than I am,” you giggled.

He puffed his chest out and twirled the knife he selected in his hand without thinking about it. Part of him was showing off because, well, he wanted you to stare again. “How about I help you?”

“Help me? How?” you asked.

“Here.” He placed the knife in your hand and stood behind you once he had the carrots on the cutting board. “I’m going to preface this by saying I’m far from an expert, but I usually cut them into decent sized pieces before I dice them.”

“I trust your judgement,” you said, glancing over your shoulder. Your faces were close enough that he could kiss you if he leaned in a fraction. But he didn’t. He wouldn’t take what you didn’t offer.

Carefully placing his hands over yours once you faced forward, he felt that electricity crackle again as he helped guide you. He angled his hips so he didn’t press against you, but still stayed close. “See? You’re a natural,” he whispered against your ear when you made the first cut through the vegetable.

He heard the hitch in your breath and how your blood rushed faster in your veins. He felt your skin warm under his touch as you cut the next piece. He also caught the slight tremble that went through your frame when his grip tightened, but he didn’t sense any fear. He hadn't detected any sort of fear or disgust since he came into your life.

But what he sensed in this very moment was excitement.

“Thanks, Bucky,” you whispered back. The way you spoke his name was breathy, beautiful, and he longed to hear that again. “You’re a great teacher.”

“I’m not,” he said, thankful your back was to him so you wouldn’t see the pink that tinted his cheeks. “But I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, you are,” you stated, tempting him to turn your head toward him to kiss you. If he did that and you stabbed him, he wouldn’t blame you or hold it against you. “And Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“I really am glad you invited me over,” you said.

He stopped himself from putting his face in the crook of your neck. “I am, too,” he said, smiling to himself as he helped you finish up. “And now that you’ve mastered the carrots, we can chop the onions.”

“Onions? Oh, no,” you groaned playfully.

As the sound of both of you laughing a second later filled the room, Bucky was glad he went with his gut and asked for you two to cook together.

And maybe before the night was over, he’d ask you out on a date and prove to himself that his game wasn't completely hopeless.

I wonder just how he'll ask you out! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[kermdoeswriting]

Bruce Wayne's a Foster Parent. Also he avoids death a lot so a dead person can usually tell if a humans meant to have died but didn't.

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

"Bruce you know I wouldn't ask this of you if I didn't have to but-"

Bruce just sighed from his side of the phone, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Nobody ever really expects to get a phone call nearing 3 am but exceptions had to be made when you were a legal foster parent and also a part-time secret super hero. If it wasn't one thing calling for him it was the other.

On the other side of the phone, Bruce heard the caseworker, Roni, chuckle.

"It's just for 3 nights and half of the day after, but I need you to be prepared for something before I can pass them off to you."

Bruce sat upright now on his bed, attentively listening to her words. Usually the kids didn't really come with any pre-warnings from the Caseworker themselves, letting anything about each Foster kid be said inside of their personal files that got sent along with them.

But when she gave out this information it was usually important. The last time Bruce had gotten a warning like this it was for Jason which was ages ago it feels at this point.

"What is it?"

"The kids are-" Her voice trailed off, like as if she was still searching for the right words to say. "They've been through what I can honestly only describe as the equivalent to a meta-kid trafficking lab"

Bruce shifted as he heard the driving continue on the other side of the phone.

"They're very guarded because of what they went through and they might display.. unusual behavior. More unusual then a meta-kids behavior after such a situation would be, but don't let it fool you! The kids are really sweet beyond being afraid."

Bruce frowns at the descriptions before replying to her, mentally trying to prepare himself for the idea of these kids and what they might have went through.

"I'll make a note of it then. Thank you, Roni"

"No, thank you, Bruce. I really appreciate this last minute placement. We'll be by really soon"

He was left with a click as he removed himself off his bed and threw the covers to the side of him. Alfred would want to know that they would have 2 new guests in the manor, at the very least to greet them and have rooms prepared even if they didn't need to have them prepared further then what they already were.

It was less then 5 minutes later that Bruce found himself, with Alfred, greeting the temporary fosters at the front door. Roni looked tiredly at them as she pushed the kids front and center.

Bruce could relate heavily.

"Hello Danny, Ellie. It's nice to meet you both, I'm Bruce Wayne."

Danny just stared at the mans outstretched hand for a second before he turned to look up at him, a pinched look on his face. Ellie matched his expression, although being a bit more subtle about it as she looked over Bruce as a whole.

Eerily, Bruce felt like his very soul was being judge the longer the kids stared at him. He also felt a sense of familiarity with these two kids the longer this continued.

They seemed detached rather than afraid like their caseworker had explained earlier, more so viewing the world as if they were outside of it rather then in it in any way.

Danny was quick to glare at him after another moment, "You're a fruit-loop, aren't you?"

Ellie broke from her own scanning almost immediately when she heard Danny's comment, cackling beside him before shoving him off with her arm. The action made Bruce smile as he took his arm back and placed it by his side.

Alfred also looked amused between the pair of siblings before turning attention to the task at hand again. Bruce just smiled at his pseudo-fathers usual fondness over children, knowing he was being reminded of his own grandchildren.

"This is Alfred. He's going to be the one to show you over to your rooms for the next few nights." Alfred greeted the kids in the same polite way he usually greeted all guests before he leaned down and extended his hands towards their belongings. He didn't grab their belongings just remained leaning over them before questioning the kids if they would like help to take their stuff to their rooms.

Bruce only really saw it faintly and if it were any other moment he might have ignored it as a sleepless hallucination, but for some reason he noticed the change immediately. The twins eyes go from a darker blue to a flashing bright green.

As if alarmed by the sudden movement towards their belongings.

Danny was quick to catch his own staring as well, eyes flashing back to blue for only a second before reverting back to green. Almost as if to give off some kind of warning.

Ellie noticed his staring immediately and shoved Danny again, this time more forceful for his attention before turning to whisper something to him when she had him back.

Bruce felt his skin crawl before turning away to face their caseworker, not really understanding anything they were saying beyond hearing a few words and feeling their eyes look between each other and his back.

Death Touched was an especially new description, and one that stuck in his head the second he heard it.

Bruce waited until the kids were guided away by Alfred before talking to their caseworker officially and waking her up from her half delirious tired drop-off.

"Hey Roni? Is there any chance we can extend the Fenton kids stay?"

There was something going on here with these kids and he was going to get to the bottom of it. One way or another.

[dollarbils]

don’t wanna be your fan | b.eilish

billie eilish x fem!reader

context. when your favourite fan suggests featuring in one of your videos, you reevaluate her position in your life.

warnings. smut, strap, oral, mommy kink, degrading?, ofstar!reader (very inaccurate only fans portrayal). also not proofread!

part 1 masterlist

when she’d first brought up the idea you were hesitant to say the least. she was kind, sweet and hot, but you hadn’t ruled out serial killer just yet. having her feature in a video would be great for your page since lesbian sex is climbing up the ranks, and seems to be the majority of your following. but you were hesitant, more that hesitant.

“Billie, it’s a good idea but i just don’t know if it would work out.” she huffed, on the other side of the phone, her frustration apparent.

“why not? are you scared?” she taunted you, but truthfully you were.

“it’s not that, what if my other fans think they have a shot and start harassing me?” a bullshit excuse and you knew it, but you felt like you owed it to yourself to be wary of the suggestion.

“they won’t know i’m a fan.” she paused for a second, and you could hear her breaths through the phone speaker. “besides, i’m your favorite fan right? i think i deserve it don’t you?” those words made you smile, imagining her smug little smile on the other side of the phone.

“okay.” she went silent, as if hoping you’d repeat yourself.

“wait, okay?” she asked.

“don’t make me second guess my decision. be at the hotel by 9pm or im locking my door. i’ll send the details.” she agreed quickly and you hung up, holding your head in your hands while you ran through the previous conversation to look for any red flags.

-

“i mean honestly, ask a girl to dinner before filming a sex tape with her.” she rolled her eyes, smiling softly as you positioned the camera.

“is it recording?” she asked, biting her lip when you approached her.

“mhm.” she was cautious with putting her hands on your hips, this having been the first time she’d intentionally touched you, the other, being when she’s brushed past you when you’d opened the door.

“give them a show, baby.” she tugged on your shirt, clarifying what she meant but letting you take it off. you were stood in front of her, your back to the camera while she remained sitting, letting her hands drift to your clothed ass as you slowly peeled off your shirt. once it had been discarded to the side, your jeans followed shortly after, leaving you in your underwear.

“all for me?” she teased, commenting on the matching set as you turned towards the camera. she pulled you down onto her lap and pulled your hair back so that she could attach her lips to your neck. and when she did, she didn’t make an attempt to be gentle.

“mm.” you closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of her bruising your skin, sucking and licking as you whimpered. subconsciously you began to grind your heat against her thigh, the thin fabric of your thong doing nothing to mask the harsh material of her jeans.

“so needy.” she whispered, loud enough for the microphone to pick it up though, and a whine followed.

“fuck.” she exhaled, before lifting you up, and placing you on the bed. she took her shirt off and hovered over you for a second, giving you the perfect view of her tits, moments from spilling out of her tight bra.

“like what you see?” you nodded, reaching behind her back to undo it before she halted your actions.

“not yet, give me a real answer.” her tone asserted a kind of dominance you weren’t used to. annoyingly easy to comply with.

“yes.” she wasn’t completely satisfied but gave way regardless. when she lowered herself onto you, you could feel the bulge in her jeans, shutting your eyes momentarily as she pressed herself against you.

“tell me what you want, babygirl.” she smirked, pulling your chin to face her while she waited for a response.

“i want it raw.” you weren’t hesitant to voice what you wanted and it turned her on.

“ask nicely, baby.” she teased and your rolled your eyes.

“fuck. me. please.” she smiled, but contemplated it for a second, her hands running up and down your naked body, doing everything to distract you from the conversation.

“do you deserve it?” she asked, the same teasing tone lacing her words.

“yes.” she chuckled at the confidence in your voice.

“and what makes you think that? you’re a little slut after all, aren’t you?” that made you go silent, the truth to her words making it difficult to counter.

“well? are you?” her hand was squeezing your chin again, forcing an answer out of you.

“yes.” it was said with resistance but still satisfied her. she slapped the side of your ass, eliciting a small jump.

“on your knees.” she ordered, letting your imagination complete the request. and when you were on your knees, in front of her, she gave no further instructions.

“go on, show me how much of a slut you are. and maybe i’ll give you what you want.” she shrugged, taking a sort of nonchalant stance as she waited for you to unbutton her jeans. when you pulled them down to reveal her strap, your eyes widened slightly at the sheer size.

“come on, you can take it.” she’s noticed the uncertainty in your expression. but when you took the tip in your mouth, and then finally the rest, she bunched up your hair and pushed you closer to her, the tip hitting the back of your throat. you gagged multiple times, your eyes going glossy and your pussy even wetter as you clenched on nothing, moaning around her strap.

“fuck, what a whore, huh?” you nodded quickly, doing almost anything to please her while she pulled on your hair, harshly, revealing the entire strap until she pushed it past your lips again, your saliva coating the base as you whined and cried. your muffled noises turning her on and she rested her head back, closing her eyes.

“that’s right, take it like a good girl.” her voice was sultry, and so seductive you could swear you were leaking from your heat. and when she was done with you sucking her strap, you thought your mouth would bruise. when she pulled it out of your mouth your saliva made it glisten in the dim lighting. the tears on your cheeks and drool on your chin was a sight for sore eyes and the camera had long been forgotten.

“was that slutty enough for you?” she narrowed her eyes when you stood up.

“watch your mouth, princess.” she threatened, moving to grasp your hips and push you onto the bed.

“i think i gotta show off that pretty ass of yours no?” she smirked, getting on top of you once she’d urged you to turn around. you used your elbows to prop yourself up as she unclasped your bra, letting your tits spill as her hands came to feel them up. your legs were spread wide and her knee came up to your heat, pressing lightly against your panties.

“billie, please.” the desperation in your words were pathetic, playing further into her ego.

“patience, sweet girl.” she let her hands wander down your body before resting, just below your waist, her fingers biting into your hips. you fought the urge to turn your head back, to see what she was doing, but all thoughts were silenced when you felt her silicone tip prodding at your entrance.

“you’re soaking, bet i could just slide into that tight little hole of yours.” the harsher she pressed the tip against your pussy, the filthier her words got, as if the teasing hadn’t been enough already. she knew what she was doing.

“please just do something!” you whined, and she contemplated making you beg for it.

“do what? i’m going to need you to specify, babe.” you could imagine her smirk, and you almost dropped your head in frustration.

“please fuck me.” she sighed in content of your response.

“well, since you said please.” and she was pushing her entire length into you, before she’d finished the sentence, disrupted by a moan.

“fuck.” your elbows gave out and you were gripping the sheets already, feeling her push herself further into you.

“so ready for me, i swear i can feel you clenching, pretty.” she didn’t really give you time to adjust before she started thrusting, agonisingly slow at first.

“billie.” your whines only fuelled her, but she responded with a light slap to you ass.

“try again.” she tutted, halting her movements for a moment.

“mommy? please?” she groaned in satisfaction before continuing her motions.

“that’s right, baby.” it didn’t take long for her actions to turn harsh and messy, your moans and whimpers making her feral.

“ y’like getting fucked like this? like a fuckin’ slut?” she grasped your hips pulling them towards her with every thrust, as you arched your back, pushing your ass against her lower abdomen.

“mhm.” your moans we’re muffled by the pillow you’d hurried your face into. but that response obviously didn’t satisfy her. she fisted you hair again, pulling your head away from the pillow so that you could answer her.

“i need an answer, babe.” she pulled out of you completely, leaving you clenching uncontrollably.

“yes.” your mouth was running dry, your breaths still staggered.

“yes what?” she was unbelievably persistent. she wouldn’t be able to get away with it if she wasn’t that fucking hot.

“yes mommy.” she let you fall with a small bounce when you landed, and she was back to abusing your pussy.

“all your other fans can’t compare can they?” you felt the pressure in your lower stomach building, as she filled you up with her strap.

“no.” you shook your head, unaware of your words and actions, only focusing on the feeling of her inside of you.

“tell me i’m more than a fan.” the camera was so long forgotten you spewed out words of agreement.

“you’re so much more.” your hands were roaming the sheets for some kind of solace as you felt your high approaching.

“are you gonna cum on my dick then? make a mess?” when you nodded, she moved her hand to your clit, pinching it with two of her fingers, before continuing to toy with it.

“fuck.” you could barely feel your legs as her thrusts became quicker but sloppy. and when her hands came to spread your legs wider, she hit deeper spots than you could’ve imagined, and you were releasing all other her strap.

“holy fuck.” she gasped, your heat, empty and aching when she pulled out.

“fuck that was insane.” your turned around, facing her, and she almost collapsed on your body.

“yeah?” the metal on her teeth glistened through her smirk.

“mhm” you confirmed, and she came down to kiss you, no hesitation in the matter whatsoever.

“i think i’ve earned the ‘more than a fan’ title, right?” you laughed, a smile forming on her lips when she heard it.

“yeah, you definitely did.” she pecked your lips again before she spoke.

“perfect, i don’t wanna be your fan anymore.”

request (kinda)

taglist: @adinda-eilish @ijustlovemaths @sweetcherriexs @jaxon-nathaniel-drake @mybluebossanova @diceroll65 @tothediner @st0nerlesb0 @bilssturns @london-uhmye @bxllxebxtch @tan1shere @babybornbluenow @greenbttrflyy @asterisk-eyes

[specialgradefckr]

nerd!gojo is so cute! please give him a kiss on the cheek for me.

you stare at the note you found in your locker. it's written in glittery purple ink, which only adds to the insult.

gojo, "cute"??? give him a kiss on the cheek???

like an ill omen summoned by its name, a terrible presence looms over your shoulder, "watcha got there?"

"hate mail." you say dispassionately as you quickly shove gojo away.

when you face him, you see gojo's face change - smooth features and rounded eyes hardening into anger.

"hate mail?" gojo frowns, "in your locker? who would send that?!"

"you want a list?" comes geto's snarky voice. "she's kind of a bitch."

you shoot him a glare, but gojo speaks before you can.

"don't talk about her like that."

the room feels a little bit colder. since when did gojo sound so... mean?

"i'm just saying," geto says, shrugging, "you'd know better than anyone, she's always on your ass."

"yeah, my ass," gojo turns to you, a pout on his face, "you're not bullying other people, are you? i don't have any other bullies."

only satoru gojo could get into an argument this stupid.

"no," you drone, "your drain on my time and attention is uncontested."

rather than being ashamed of this, gojo looks absolutely tickled.

even when you punch him in the shoulder, his good mood is undampened.

"nerd," you grouse, stalking off to your next class, which gojo naturally follows.

it sucked being in the same classes as him, but at least it meant you could get his help. he really is a huge nerd. all those hours you put into it, and he seems to understand everything effortlessly.

the class feels like it takes hours. you pay diligent attention, take so many notes, and somehow, gojo comes out of it completely chipper.

you're left in peace for a few blessed minutes afterwards as he bolts out of the room for some reason or another.

is he finally starting to fear you as his bully? took him long enough -

"here!" pressed into your hands, your favorite snack from the campus vending machine.

gojo smiles at you, that big, boyish smile that makes him look extra stupid. "sorry i messed up last time."

you don't know what comes over you. maybe it's pure delirium brought on by hunger. or the joy from having something nice to eat.

maybe it's a new form of torture, humiliating him by making him endure a kiss from his bully.

it's just a kiss on the cheek. it's whatever.

he stands there, still, face completely red, blue eyes wide in shock. gojo looks even dumber than usual, which shouldn't even be possible.

you fan your face for a moment as you turn to leave.

"come on, you idiot. we've got a test to study for."

gojo whistles some unbelievably stupid tune, practically skipping the whole way to the library.

"i can't believe it! she kissed me on the cheek!!! a real kiss!" "uh-huh." "don't uh-huh me, suguru, it was REAL! anyways, it all makes sense now. she was just hangry. no wonder she shoved me into a locker. it's my fault for not taking better care of her..." "would you listen to me if i reminded you that you're not dating and this is all pure delusion?" "not dating yet." "so a no, then," suguru says, rolling his eyes as he returns to his work. satoru's already finished with the homework and scrolling through his text message history with you, no doubt spamming you again with memes or pictures or just remarks. but you haven't blocked him yet, have you? suguru smiles to himself, closing his notebook, tucking away a shimmering violet pen.

[ablobwhowrites]

I really love your New home sweet home au and I really want to see the toys taking care of Y/N since he’s has a fever :

Like one day, Y/N comes back from work and sees the toys in the living room and then he says something and passes out due to the fever. And the toys taking care of him since he saved them.

Everyone thinks y/n just died. Until dog day just found out they just have a fever. All it was is a cold and basically the only ones who kinda know how to help with a cold is the smiling critters and miss delight. They basically try and take care of y/n because they kinda know what their doing as miss delight knows how colds work as she's a teacher and knows basics of human anatomy and a lot of other stuff because well she was made to be a teacher back in playcare so that's what she had kept in here memory.

Yarnaby isn't allowed to be in the room with y/n because the moment he is, he's hopping onto the bed and laying down with y/n and may even get yarnaby sick. So yarnaby kinda sits at the door of y/n's room, doey every 5 minutes goes up to check on y/n as luckily he can stretch his neck and arms to get to y/n. Because once he went to the second floor and ended up nearly breaking through it but luckily didn't. He's like 900 pounds of dough so that pretty heavy but he can go upstairs for a little bit but not for long. But he tries and always checks up on y/n and poor dude is worried cause so many toys in the safe haven got sick sometimes and Doey was so worried for them the whole time.

Mommy long legs basically looking through cook books and cook books for something that y/n could eat without having to throw up or just having something easy for the stomach. The doctor, he thinks this worrying is just idiotic as he knows y/n will get better but still, Harley does make sure y/n is living and breathing. And the bunzo comes up into y/n's room to kinda talk about random things to keep y/n entertained and not bored but bunzo ended up talking about a random green spring he found and the newest episode of a show. Boogie bot is kinda the only one who kinda takes y/n's temperature, gives medicine and other stuff and all because it's hard to get a robot sick plus dog day and Doey are genuinely tweaking because they are in the safe haven mind set thinking that there is no medicine and stuff like that.

But after y/n feels healthy again. The toys are relieved and Harley is relieved as well because he wants to keep his room and bro is not willing to give up this nice ass house life. Also yarnaby goes back to sleeping in y/n's room again after y/n gets better. As soon is catnap in his smaller form as it helps him keep a eye on y/n and also to sleep more peacefully than hearing KickinChicken snore for the whole night.

(thats it for my yap session, hopefully my writing is getting slightly better but If you like that please don't feel shy and request any ideas for stories or anything. But for now please stay safe and drink water!)

[k1mbe3rly]

can u do like virginity loss with minsu? like both reader and him r virgins.. they’re both awkward and shy!! i think it’d be soo cute ^_^

First time together

warning: smut, virginity loss, virgin!min su x virgin!fem!reader, unprotected sex

Min su and you never had never done anything too intimate, the most is probably making out which yall were doing right now

You were on top of him cupping his cheeks making out with him passionately, his hands were on your waist wrapping around them and softly rubbing on your back, both of y’all lip moving together

This continued for awhile until Min-su pulled back for a breath looking at you admiring you a bit, he takes in your features as he flushed up

“Y/n..i-..i think i’m ready” he spoke quietly, you blinked at him in confusion “Ready? ready for what?” You asked him

He sits up a bit his hands going back to his side as your hands also fell down to your side awkwardly sitting on his lap, “I..i think i’m ready to have..um..sex with you” he said nervously, he was a bit embarrassed that he had to fully say the whole thing

Your eyes widen slightly and chuckled nervously just to make it not seem awkward “Min-su..im a virgin..” you spoke to him, he stares at you for a moment before speaking up “..me too, but if your not ready that’s totally okay-!” he quickly spoke not wanting to make you uncomfortable

“No-no! i want too, im ready too” you told him as he looks at you “Are you sure..you don’t have too i don’t want to pressure you-.” he begin speaking but you quickly cut him off with your lips

You kissed him for a moment and pulled back smiling at him, “Im ready i promise” you reassured him as he nodded

You guys stared at eachother for a bit not knowing what to do as you finally spoke up “Um- so..can i just?” you said placing your hands on his shirt to take it off as he quickly nodded

You took off his shirt and placed it on the floor, “Can i..do the same?” he asked you as well as you nodded, He took yours off as well admiring your chest for a moment, you bra covering your boobs as he gulped a bit, he stared for a minute “You can…take my bra off too” you told him as he looked at you and smiled a bit

His hands went to back of your bra having a bit of trouble but finally unclipped it, he slipped it off and put it on the floor admiring your tits for a moment, you felt a bit embarrassed but didn’t cover them

“You’re beautiful.” he spoke to you as you smiled at him, you lifted your self off and begin taking off your pants, he quickly followed your movements taking his off as well, his bulge in his boxers visible

You watched over and slipped off your panties as well, he was following your every movement like a puppet slowly taking off his boxers as well, his cock semi hard as he sat up resting on the headboard a bit

You than hovered over him and your hands went to his cock slightly stroking him, he begin breathing hard as he panted a bit, once he was fully hard you lined his tip against your entrance

“Are you..okay? with me doing this?” you asked him making sure, he quickly nodded as you gave him a reassuring smile

You slowly sinked down shutting your eyes, you heard him groan softly as you paused when you felt his tip enter feeling a small sting of pain, “Are you okay? are you hurt? we can stop..” he told you quickly, “no no it’s fine” you told him

Once the pain went away you begin going more down, you finally hit the bottom of his cock feeling his thighs a bit as you sat there for a moment adjusting his size for a moment

He was patient as you slowly placed his hands on your waist, once you adjusted your hips slowly moved forward and backwards causing him to whine softly

You looked at him as his eyes were fluttering shut, you continue as you moaned out softly, you went nice and slow making sure you were careful with him and yourself and also wanting to savor this moment

You slowly picked up your pace as he gasped out noticing the way you went slightly fast, his whines turned into whimpers as your moans we’re soft and low

He moved his hands up and down your waist and even to your back pulling you to him, he was basically hugging you as he placed his chin on your shoulder, you continued riding him placing your hands on his shoulder

You went faster just a bit as he moaned out, “F-faster please..” he whimpered out, you enjoyed hearing his small little moans and whimpers as you went faster

Your hips moving a lot more as you hanged onto him, all you could really hear was his moans going into your ear and you loved it

He held onto your back as he opened his eyes slightly, he continued moaning out feeling your walls tighten on him making him bite his lip a bit, he felt so good at this moment and wanted more, but at the same time he was feeling sensitive

He felt his own cock twitch inside you, your warm walls continued on as well as your movements, you also felt his cock twitch knowing he was bit close, you begin speeding up even faster moaning out a bit louder as well, you immediately felt a knot in your tummy

“Agh~..mmffggg~, i’m gonna cum..” he whispered to you, he finally looked at you as you looked back at him, “Me too..i’m close” you told him as well

you continued as he shut his eyes for a moment, he gripped onto your hips as he placed his forehead against yours, panting and moaning out

“Oh- im cumming!” he told you as you were on the edge as well, he gripped onto your cheeks kissing you as you kissed him back as well, he whimpers into the kiss and eventually he felt his cock squirt out ropes of cum into you, with that feeling you immediately came after that

He continued kissing you but slowing down as you stopped your movements

He pulled back panting, “I’m sorry..i didn’t mean to cum in you..” he said in a bit of guilt, “No it’s okay i’m on the pill..” you reassured, he nodded a bit glad and relief, he leaned his forehead against yours again and kept panting sort

He’s definitely gonna do this more with you.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hi! I hope you’re doing well and have a nice day, you deserve it with all the amazing stories you have written. I love the way you write villain characters so much. Can I request a story between a villain x sidekick/ someone who works on their side? Your wrote the conflict feelings when the hero falls for the villain so well, I’m curious to see how you explore a relationship where the villain falls for someone who he doesn’t have to hide/ compromise his ideas for? No pressure tho!

"Have you considered," the villain said, "chasing after someone who isn't your boss?"

"Is that a request or order for me to stop?"

The villain considered their sidekick for a moment, at that. They were a bright young thing, as sidekicks so often were. Beautiful and powerful and eager to sink their teeth in the world and leave all the bloody marks of a legacy. Passion-sparkling. Not yet tired. Their fury still a forest fire.

The villain should have said yes. Stop. It was the only smart thing. The only reasonable thing. Bright young things should be with other bright young things, and if they were chasing something else it was probably a trap.

At their silence, their sidekick smiled. Quick and pleased and more confident than the villain ever remembered being at that age. They took a step closer in the villain's study, stepping in between the villain's legs, looming.

"I think you like being chased, boss," their sidekick said.

The villain raised an eyebrow, glad their face betrayed nothing of their pounding heart. "I think I like escaping heroes and leaving them looking stupid."

"Deflection."

"Truth."

"Truth can be a deflection. You taught me that."

Despite themselves, the villain's lips twitched in a smile. "Did I."

"Do you want a truth?"

"I think you're better at lying."

"True," the sidekick said shamelessly. "I think you're the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen."

The villain swallowed. They willed their face not to flush. By the way their sidekick's eyes lit up, they suspected they failed. Their sidekick leaned in, they pressed the advantage, just as the villain had bloody taught them. Their hands settled on the arms of the villain's chair, as if the villain was someone who could be bracketed in and caged.

"I think," the sidekick said, "that you go for what you want. So it's curious that you deny yourself me. Normally I'd be flattered to be an exception, but in this case..."

"You think I want you?"

"I have eyes. Tell me you don't. Make it convincing."

"Now who's giving who orders?"

The sidekick's smile turned to a grin. Feral. The villain wanted to bite it, kiss it, claim it. It was delightful. They wet their lips and there was a giddy thrill to the way the sidekick's eyes followed the movement.

Of course, the sidekick, and most of the world, always followed the villain's every movement. Just in case.

"Obviously," the villain said, "I want you. That doesn't make kissing my mentee, my employee, a good idea. I have - power over you."

"Oh, do you? Does a person like you have power? Gosh. I hadn't noticed."

"Brat."

"Boss." The sidekick's hands inched closer, dragging tantalising up the villain's thighs.

The villain should have shoved them away, but once again they held damningly still. Once again, the sidekick rewarded them with that smile.

"I don't want to take advantage of you," the villain said.

"I would love for you to take advantage of me, so is it really taking advantage? I'm not a child. I know my own mind. You're the one taught me I should go after what you want."

"Did I."

"Uhuh." The sidekick pouted at them, eyes glinting with mischief. "No takesie-backsies just because you never imagined I'd want you."

The villain's breath hitched.

Why do you want me was an absurd question to ask? The villain knew all the reasons that people chased them. Power, connection, the things the villain could give. To stop them, to own them, to ruin them.

Their sidekick's eyes spoke nothing of those things. Their mouth, when it finally descended on the villain's, promised only sweetness. Only desire. Only things that the villain had never thought they'd be able to have again, because it was lonely at the top for a reason.

"I considered chasing after someone else, sure," the sidekick whispered, "but you're the one I want. So let's not make a good thing more complicated then it has to be, yeah?"

It was a bad idea. A terrible idea. A reckless idea, of the sort that the villain hadn't allowed themselves to indulge in a long time.

And, yet, the villain grabbed a fistful for the sidekick's hair and reeled them in to kiss them. Again, and again, and again.

Their sidekick was right, after all.

The villain always got what they wanted in the end.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Woke up from the sweetest dream of eating ice cream with Jason in the middle of the night, both in our jammies hunched over a pint in opposite sides of the kitchen island and its just so special to not be doing this exact thing alone.

"There's something so sweet about loving and being loved. Knowing and being known. Especially by a man who makes every past moment of suffering so worth it if it's lead us to this." 🥺🥺

Late Night Desserts 

Pure Fluff ~1k words

It's late, the kind of late that's so far into the night that you can start to call it early. Your kitchen is dark, lit only by the dim street lights and the occasional stray beams of moonlight that break the clouds hanging low over Gotham's sky. There's the sounds of cars driving by, the faint whirl of a helicopter flying overhead, but it's all drowned out by the quiet giggles bouncing off the walls of your apartment. 

"Why are you even whispering," you stumble out between hushed laughs, voice barely above a breath as you point your spoon at Jason, eyes narrowing in accusation.

He grins, mock offense dripping into his quiet tone, "I could ask you the same question, sweetheart." 

"I'm whispering because you're whispering," you bite back, gaze leaving him so you can dip your spoon into the pint of your favorite ice cream resting between you on the counter. 

Jason scoffs, all teasing and playing as he reaches over to knock his spoon against yours, digging into the frozen dessert for another taste, "I'm whispering because it's still dark outside, and the walls of your apartment are thinner than paper."

"That's not my fault," You pout, taking your own bite of the ice cream. Your eyes narrow, but there's no heat to the action, not when the moment feels as sweet as the dessert you're sharing.

"Didn't say it was, doll," he hums, catching you entirely off guard when he reaches over the kitchen island to swipe his thumb over the corner of your lip, collecting what remains of the ice cream on his finger. His gaze never leaves yours as he licks his thumb clean, smile never fading.

He seems intent on knocking your world off center for a second time, because he speaks again, an easy grin on his face, like his words have no consequence either way, "You could always move in with me. Then it wouldn't matter how loud we were at night. Opens all kinds of doors, ya know?"

You think you manage to keep the surprise off your face when you answer (you don't), "It would?"

"Sure," he hums, jabbing his spoon back into the cartoon, it's the only sign that he feels even slightly nervous over the question he poised, "We could cook after eight pm without your neighbors complaining, blast music in the morning, and, ya know, if we ever get the dog you've talked about, it would be nice to have thicker walls."

His words sweep you right off your feet, his easy answer, the slight tension in his shoulders, all point to one thing. He's thought about this. He's planned a future with you, even if it's just coming up with small, mundane reasons on why you should move to his apartment. 

The realization steals your breath away, and it's only when his face furrows and his eyes start to dart over your face, searching for any clues of how you feel, that you remember you have to respond. 

"That sounds nice. I'd like that, " You say, voice melting into a different kind of soft from your previous whispers. It's a soft that's fond, almost reverent in the face of his feelings for you, the cusp of something more you want to build with him. 

The tension drains from his body, and his smile returns to something bright, something real, "Good." Jason lifts his spoon back to his mouth, face thoughtful like he's mulling over his next words, "You could move in anytime, you know. If you wanted. Half your stuff is already there anyway."

The ice cream melting onto the counter doesn't matter anymore, and you drop your spoon, letting it clatter loudly to the granite surface. Jason only has enough time to look confused and vaguely alarmed by the noise before you round the island to get to his side.

He tries to play off his eagerness with a nonchalant shrug, but you see right through your boyfriend. And suddenly, the moment feels so big.

The feeling nearly bursts from your chest. The warm, fluttery love that's so pure and right in your soul that it's nearly overwhelming. The idea that every path you've ever walked has led you to him, and him to you. 

He opens his mouth to talk, and you steal whatever words he means to say with your tongue. The kiss is sweet, so, so sweet. Sweeter than the dessert you were sharing, sweeter than anything you could tell him, sweeter than all the emotions fluttering in your stomach over just how much he means to you. 

Jason kisses you back with a softness that speaks to all the adoration he feels for you, dropping his own spoon to cup your face, to wrap an arm around your waist to draw you closer.

You only pull away first so you can watch the way his eyes flutter open slowly, lingering in the ghost of your lips against his.

"What was that for," he asks, voice so breathless and dreamy it nearly brings you to your knees.

"Just wanted to," you hum out, pressing a kiss to his jaw, to his chin, to his cheek. It's not a lie, it just doesn't encompass all the warmth you feel in your heart, the goofy smile you can't wipe from your face.

His dumbstruck smile matches your own as he squeezes your waist, saying everything he needs to say back with a simple touch. You melt into arms, ice cream, and quiet whispers long forgotten.

But you don't need to explain, don't have to elaborate. Jason knows what you mean when you press another gentle kiss to his lips, he knows what you're trying to say when you tangle your finger in his hair and memorize the feel of his body pressing against yours.

He always seems to know what you can't find the words to say. 

It's just a moment, just a stolen minute of peace as dark creeps towards day, but it's yours. Yours and his. Another warm memory to write into your story, another step towards something that feels like forever. 

The moon lights up your kitchen as it breaks the clouds once again, and Jason chases your mouth for another head-spinning kiss, sealing the promise of words unsaid, emotions that are far bigger than can be spoken into the calm, quiet air of the night.

[hivemuthur]

Hi! Thank you so much for your beautiful work!! I hope it’s okay to make a silly little request

So I’m in my 20s (late 20s I might add) but I’ve never ever even kissed anyone yet and I kinda really want to so… Would you consider writing modern au!Viktor with a virgin!f!reader? Something about a first kiss or maybe having sex for the first time or first relationship..? Anything first in general 👉👈

Anon, I am beating my chest that it took so long and hope that you will get a notification that it is published (I sometimes don't when I ask anon questions). I was a late bloomer myself and it has some massive advantages. Though I hope you get to kiss someone nice soon!

First Rites

viktorxfemale!virgin!reader mature, kissing and making out :)

author’s note: Nothing smart to say here, really, other than I will probably write a part two of this :') @rennethen beta read!

word count: 1,8K

—

Your eyes sweep over Jayce’s tongue on Mel’s before you catch yourself staring. And even that doesn’t stop you. You analyse the movement of their hands, the way Jayce’s hips press into Mel’s, memorising all the smacking sounds they try to muffle into gentle giggles, hoping that you and Viktor are doing a decent job of not looking. When in reality, it’s the exact opposite.

It always goes the same way: the clack of heels echoing through the corridor outside the lab already has Jayce perking up. He grunts, clears his throat, and gets up slowly to avoid raised eyebrows and Viktor stating the obvious, like, “I guess this means you’re off for the day?”

Then, Jayce gives an apologetic smile and strolls toward the door, opening it before Mel can even knock. He exchanges a shy, stupid, cheek-reddened “Hi” for her sultry, thick “Hi yourself.” Their greetings die somewhere in their mouths when their lips meet in a first hello kiss. That one doesn’t last very long—soon, it shifts into an I missed you kiss. That lingers before melting into an I want you kiss or an I’d rather eat you than dinner kiss. And those are your favourites.

Even when you try very hard not to imagine what kind of kiss might follow that, you can’t help yourself. You end up blushed and flustered, your mind spinning with curiosity.

So you stare—impolitely, some might say—but for you, it’s research. You study and memorise, committing their courtship to memory so you can replay the scene later, your fingers wandering over your own lips as you imagine what it would be like. To have someone’s lips on yours, someone’s tongue in your mouth. It doesn’t sound all that appealing or hygienic, but it looks fantastic. It makes you feel a very much welcomed weirdness in your chest and belly, and having nothing else to supplement those feelings with, you just outright stare.

“It’s quite rude, if you ask me,” Viktor’s voice cuts through your thoughts just as Mel lets out a small, startled sound at Jayce’s hand cradling the back of her neck.

“Uh, I know. They should take it somewhere else, really,” you whisper back, but your tone is far from condemning. You say it absentmindedly, your eyes still glued to their mouths, chin propped on your hand, your scribbling abandoned the moment Jayce stood up.

“I meant your intense staring. But yes, such activities should be performed outside of work areas,” Viktor mumbles, not looking up from his notes.

Your blush deepens into an intense red hue as you finally look away and cover your face with your hand.

“Oh, I um… I didn’t mean to, it’s just—”

“All right, we’re off! Don’t work too hard while I’m gone!” Jayce’s beaming laughter cuts you off. Before you or Viktor can reply with a snarky comment, he sweeps Mel by the waist, and they disappear into the hallway. The sound of Mel’s giggle and the uneven click of her heels on the stone floors make you wonder if Jayce is kissing her neck or pressing her against a wall.

“It’s just?” Viktor insists, finally looking at you, his face forming an unamused expression.

“Nothing. It’s just nothing,” you respond quickly, picking up your pen with a shaky hand. You force yourself back to scribbling, even though your handwriting comes out ragged, suffering from both the excitement and the fear of Viktor’s prying eyes. But you do it anyway, desperate for any kind of shield.

“It does not look like nothing,” Viktor pushes, rotating in his chair to face you fully. You deepen your hunch, almost pressing your nose into the paper. How mortifying.

“I understand the concept of unrequited attraction, but you should really do yourself a favour and quit this self-flagellating practice of ogling every time Mel picks him up. It doesn’t lead to anything beneficial and impacts your focus,” Viktor drones, his nasal tone close to scolding.

You feel so scrutinised that you don’t even bother to correct his misunderstanding of your habit. You just sigh and continue your fake note taking.

“Trust me, I would know,” Viktor adds.

That catches your attention. How would he know anything about what you’re going through?

“Whatever do you mean by that?” you ask, keeping your face turned toward your notes, though your eyes wander to glance at him. He looks… unhappy? Mildly irritated? Annoyed at your lack of shame and focus?

“I am merely stating that lusting after someone out of reach is, at best, futile and, at worst, a path to ruin. For your own good, I would refrain from such practices,” Viktor says quietly.

You blink a few times as the words settle in your mind. He thinks I’m in love with Jayce? Lusting after him? It’s almost funny when you think that what you’ve been doing is in fact, just lusting.

“I can assure you, I am not attracted to Jayce. Or Mel, for that matter. I just—”

“Oh?” Viktor’s head snaps up so fast it surprises even him. He internally scolds himself for the involuntary reaction, but the undeniable punch of hope makes him lose control of his body for a moment. His pupils are wide, his brows lifted all the way to his forehead. “You’re not?”

“Uh, no,” you sigh, finally turning to face him properly. Your head dips as embarrassment weighs you down, but maybe admitting it will make it easier to carry. “I’m just… collecting research. For whenever I’ll have the opportunity. If ever. I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever—”

“What?” Viktor’s voice comes out too sharp. Shit. He scowls at himself��internally, of course—for how poorly he masked his shock. Way to be sensitive.

You wince, sinking deeper into yourself.

“Oh. Forgive me. I didn’t mean to… offend you,” he says carefully, trying not to sound too excited. His hand hovers over your knee while he calculates whether it would be proper to comfort you with a gentle touch. If you would like that. If you would like him to touch you.

But before he can decide, you turn back to your side of the desk, avoiding his gaze. “I’m not that easy to offend. It’s just not something I’m comfortable with. I’m a bit… too old for that, you know.”

And as if having a mild upper hand in this situation pumps Viktor with extra courage, he twists your chair back and rolls it close to his, until the sides of your thighs touch. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, then. I actually mean for the opposite of that,” he breathes and allows himself to glance over your lips, briefly. But you notice.

“Viktor?” you whisper, feeling an invisible force pulling you closer to his face. His arm extends over your legs, gripping the edge of your seat, and you feel the mild heat radiating off his body. You can smell his scent lingering in the space between you as you indulge in small glances at his eyes and lips.

“If you allow me, I could provide you with… some hands-on experience. Unless, of course, I am not—”

“Yes,” you answer quickly, and Viktor exhales into a relieved smile. He mumbles an “okay,” as if bracing himself, and closes the little distance left between you. His mouth presses against yours almost innocently as he takes your upper lip between his. His lips are soft and warm. It’s a long, lingering peck that has your eyes fluttering shut and a pool of heat blooming in your belly. You find yourself leaning into the kiss, your hips on the edge of the chair, to the point that your chests almost press against each other.

When he disconnects from you, it’s only to breathe against your mouth, “Is this alright?”

“Yes,” you say shakily, your lips brushing his. You open your eyes only to see a pretty pink blush splattered across his cheeks and ears. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth when he asks, “Would you like me to continue?”

“Please, continue,” you exhale, and something glints in Viktor’s eyes. Emboldened by your enthusiasm, he slides the hand gripping the stool to the back of your seat, pulling you closer until you can almost feel the flutter of his heart against yours as your chests meet. His other hand cradles the back of your neck, and oh, it’s the same gesture Jayce granted Mel that you’ve longed for so dearly, and you feel your skin prickling under Viktor’s touch.

His mouth is back on yours, this time the press is firmer, as he parts your lips with his tongue and—oh. Just oh, as your eyebrows knit together and the warmest of feelings floods your chest, making your hands jolt out to fist his vest, and you sigh the sweetest of sounds into his mouth. And he doesn’t stop there—the hand from the chair slides up your side, rests on your ribcage, fingers digging in when he—oh—also makes a sound. The hottest of sounds, a honey-dripping moan that makes you bite his lower lip, craving to eat him up with a long spoon.

And when he loses himself a bit—grunts and sighs into you, his hands wandering to rest at the base of your spine and cradle your cheek in a firm grip—you don’t even know how it happens, but you slide your hips to straddle his and press yourself down on him. To your delight, he has many more of those pretty sounds, some even forming something close to your name, making you melt into his arms.

When he pulls away, it’s only for an inch. “Oh, my,” Viktor mutters, rubbing his face against yours and kissing your neck. You like that too, but you already miss his hot tongue in your mouth. “A natural talent, I see,” he chuckles, and you blush even more at the thought of what he would say if he knew how much practice you’ve done on the crook of your fist alone in your room.

He looks up at you, all flustered and pretty, swiping his thumb across your glistening lip. He doesn’t know what’s come over him when he says, “If you wish to explore this further, I can offer my… expertise.” What he wants to say is that he’s been thinking about this too many times to count, leaving him flustered and pretty countless times before, but he doesn’t want to scare you away. So he just keeps looking at you expectantly, willing his mouth to shut.

“I would like that,” you mutter shyly, noticing how Viktor’s chest sags with relief. To think that he was there, willing and within your reach all this time makes you feel silly for all those times you stared at Jayce and Mel longingly. And you’re convinced you’ll continue to watch them—not with longing, but with anticipation for when they finally stroll off to their date, so you can sink your lips onto Viktor’s.

[matchpointfaist]

a love like religion ˚₊‧꒰ა♡໒꒱ ‧₊˚

sheltered! art x flirty reader pt iii

the third time he saw you, art couldn’t decide between happy and horrified. he’d been doing his best to stay focused on his studies, his faith, and his training; on anything but you. his thoughts drifted, sure, but for the most part he thought he was doing pretty well. an entire week passed, and he managed to avoid you on campus, ignoring his fleeting thoughts of wishing to see you, even for just a moment.

he knew, in the back of his mind, that attending his teammates birthday party was a mistake. he knew you were in the same social circle, that you’d probably be there, all gorgeous and flirty and drunk and- it was just best if he didn’t see you.

he told himself he wasn’t taking extra care in his appearance for you; he just wanted to look good, that’s all. a birthday party is a big deal. so he got dressed in a button up and jeans, made sure his hair was perfect and his cologne wasn’t too strong, and tried to keep his head high as he entered the already too loud party.

almost immediately, his eyes fell to you. everyone’s did, though, he couldn’t blame himself. you were a vision of pink and silver shimmer, your hair falling down the dangerously low back of your dress. his breath quickened, his mind racing with excuses on how to get out of here before you noticed- and then, your sharp eyes were on his, a dangerous little smile on your glossy lips.

“donaldson!” your voice carried over the music like a melody, like some sort of siren call crafted just for him, rendering him helpless, “cmere!” and he practically floated to your side, a nervous smile on his lip, “uh, hi, hey. i didn’t know you’d be here,” he managed, biting the inside of his cheek and hoping he didn’t think too stupid.

“course id be here,” you grinned, “what’re you drinkin? i can get you a refill,” he shook his head, “no, i don’t drink, i can just get a water,” “you don’t drink?” you laughed, like it was the most insane thing in the world, “cmon, artie. come with me,”

so he followed you to the kitchen, let you pour him a cup of stale beer even though he knew it was wrong, it was stupid, it was a sin. “it’s cheap shit, but it’s fine,” you sounded almost apologetic as he sniffed it, trying to keep his nose from scrunching, taking a shy sip. “you look pretty,” he said after a moment, choking down the beer with what he hoped was only a slight grimace.

“you too,” you smiled, and for just a brief second, it seemed real. not like that fake, mocking smile you gave everyone else. in a flash, though, it was gone, replaced by the coyness you showed the rest of the world, “nice shirt. green looks good on you,” you trailed your fingers over the collar of his shirt, and he almost lost it right there in the crowded kitchen, his head swimming. “my grandma got it for me,” his cheeks flushed, acutely aware that was not the right thing to say, but you didn’t seem to mind.

“cute,” you just smiled, “here, finish that and i’ll make you another, kay?” he shook his head, already regretting the first round, “no, i really can’t, i’m sorry,” he rambled, “i have class tomorrow and i don’t drink anyway and-“ “don’t worry about it,” you rested a hand on his shoulder, “it’s fine, artie. we’ll have fun anyway, yeah? you can just watch me drink,” you teased. and oh, he did watch you. all night, you practically dragged him around the party, inches from you at all times.

he watched you laugh, watched you dance, watched you drink and smoke and all the things he’d always be too afraid to do. he watched you in rare moments of your true form as you interacted with your girl friends, watched you shut down the guys that tried to dance too close to you. he watched so intently he felt like he had learned who you really were in just a few short hours, like he’d cracked some sort of code he must have missed before.

at 11, he debated leaving without even saying goodbye, just leaving you to your dancing and talking. but as he turned to leave, you were calling his name, a little pout on your lips that sent him reeling. “i’ll walk you home,” you offered, and he took note of your heels in your hand, your bare feet on the floor. “no, that’s alright,” he smiled slightly, “thank you, though. that’s kind of you,”

“let me,” you pressed, “at least let me walk you out, art,” so he did, of course, like he did everything else you asked of him. you walked with him to his dorm, and when you asked to come in, he let you do that, too. even when his head was screaming at him to stop, that this wouldn’t end well, that temptation was the gateway to sin.

you just looked so fucking pretty, sitting there on his bed, your heels tossed in the floor and the skirt of your dress on his comforter. he wished he could memorize the moment, bottle it up and save it for when this night ended. surely you’d never be back there, he told himself, this was just one time. a lapse in judgment, on both your parts.

but then he was sitting beside you, and your perfume was so sweet, and your words were even sweeter when you asked him about his hometown and his family and the pictures on his bookcase. you sounded like you really cared, like you thought he was interesting. you, of all people.

“you can relax,” you told him, and his heart nearly stopped as you pressed your leg to his, scooting closer on his bed, “jesus, you’re so tense. i’m not gonna bite you, yknow. not unless you like that,” you winked again, and his cheeks were flushed, his mind working overtime to form words that just wouldn’t come.

“you shouldn’t be in here,” he finally blurted out, his eyes wide with fear of the way it sounded, like he didn’t want you there when that could not be further from the truth, “sorry- that came out wrong. i just- i can’t be with anyone, and you’re in my room and it’s late-“

“you can’t be with anyone?” you repeated, a laugh on your lips, “why not, hm? is the devil gonna getcha if you slip up?” and then your hand was back on his necklace like all those days before, touching it, burning into his skin, “live a little, art,”

and then you were kissing him, and oh god, oh god, oh god. it was heaven and hell and a mistake and bliss and burning and soothing and everything he’d been too afraid to admit he’d ever wanted. you tasted like vodka and cotton candy and sacrilege and he couldn’t get enough, couldn’t hold back the sounds leaving him from the simple act of your kiss, couldn’t stop his hands from wandering and fuck, you were so warm and so soft and he could’ve died right there when you climbed into his lap, kissing him dizzy, tipping his jaw open with your fingers and dipping your tongue into his mouth.

he would’ve let you do anything in that moment, would’ve let you ruin the path he’d been on for so many years, would’ve let you dismantle all his plans and his faith and anything you wanted if you just kept grinding against him, kept kissing him so sweetly, so dangerously.

and then you sank to your knees off the bed, your hands pulling at his belt and your eyes shining as you blinked up at him, a sultry little smile on your swollen lips. “you’re so hard,” you hummed, sounding content as you pulled down his jeans, “has a girl ever touched you like this, hm?”

“no,” it came out like a whine, his hips bucking into your hand as you ghosted your fingers over his cock, “jesus- no, no one has,” you made a little noise, like you were pleased, and your eyes widened as you pulled down his boxers, taking him into your hand. “this is so- oh, this is so bad,” he hissed in half-pleasure, half-anguish as you pumped him slowly, your lips parting. “why’s it bad?” you asked, so innocently, so sweet, “just making you feel good, art. that’s all,”

“a sin,” he panted, eyes screwed shut, knowing full well if he looked at you he’d finish right there, just from your hand, “this is- sex before marriage is a sin and,” he trailed off, fucking into your hand despite himself, a little whine leaving his throat.

“oh, no,” you tsked, and when he dared to open his eyes, you were pouting up at him, “it’s okay, art. i’ll be good, yeah? i’ll make up for it,” he didn’t have time to question how before your tongue was on him, licking at the tip like a lollipop, and his eyes rolled back, his hands fisted in his sheets.

“forgive me father, for i have sinned,” you murmured, and he choked out a moan as you took him into your mouth fully, so warm and wet and close- fuck, he was so close. you pulled away with a pop!, “holy mary, mother of god, pray for us sinners,” and then his cock was down your throat, and you were humming around him and he was so fucking close- his hands were in your hair before he could think to stop himself, his hips bucking into your mouth, your name leaving his lips between moans and pleas.

he didn’t know what he was asking for, exactly. forgiveness, release, for you to slow down so this never stopped, but for you to make him cum down your throat like he’d imagined so many times before. one hand was in your hair, the other clutching his sheets as he came, panting and moaning and whining he opened his eyes in just enough time to see you licking your lips clean, wiping your chin with a grin, sucking your thumb into your mouth.

you leaned down, kissing him until all he could taste was salt and sweat and you, god, you, and then you were gone, his lips still hot. “amen,” you whispered against his ear, gathering your heels and pausing at the door, “see you around, art,”

and then, for the second time, you were gone. he looked down, and nearly fainted when he saw what was left in his floor. your pink lacy panties, complete with a little wet patch, bundled up just for him.

“forgive me father,” he mumbled to himself, picking up the lace and tucking it into his nightstand, not even bothering to clean himself up before curling up and drifting off, his mind busy with thoughts of you.

[zorosangell]

hii i just viewed ur intro and omg we have the same favs !! they’re both so silly i love them smm. this idea has been in my mind for like the past month, what would zoro be like with reader who’s the exact opposite of him? she’s super sweet, gentle, patient, etc,..

i can imagine reader speaking for zoro because of how rude he can get, or zoro getting frustrated bc of how kind she is to others but ofc u don’t have to do this, and always take ur time!

⛥ﾟ・。 sweetheart

synopsis: after winning a candlelit dinner for two, zoro tries his best to ask you out... though you don't seem to catch the hint.

cw: i think i got a cavity writing this, fluffy fluff, lovey zoro, in-love zoro, tender zoro, lovesick zoro, sprinkle of jealous zoro, reader's a bit dense (not bimbo territory but close enough), reader is adorable.

a/n: i genuinely believe he would be sooo awkward in a romantic setting. i love suave zoro down bad but awkward zoro holds a special place in my heart

"Zoro, don't let me go!" you squealed, eyes screwing shut as your body went stiff as a board.

"I have to let you go," he chuckled, an amused smirk rising to his lips at your panic. "How else are you gonna learn?"

"No! No, no, no, no! I'm not ready!"

"You can always just stand up if you sink. Ready?"

"No!"

"3... 2... 1—"

"No, I can't do it!"

"Wait, don't—!"

Another shriek of terror ripped from your lips as your hand shot up to grab the swordsman by the arm, yanking him into the water with a large splash as your body began to sink.

Swiftly, Zoro rose to his feet, shaking the salt water out of his eyes as he quickly yoked you out of the shallows by your ankle, raising you up with one arm.

"Did ya have to take me with you this time?" he huffed, brows flattened.

The moment you came up, you took in a large gasp of air, letting out a few harsh coughs as you frantically attempted to catch your breath.

The action banished all playfulness from the man, and instead sent a sharp pang of fear through his chest.

"Hey, hey, hey," he softened, shifting his grip to hold you bridal style, lightly patting your back. "Easy. Did you open your mouth again?"

You nodded, wheezing as you swiped a few soaking strands of hair from your face.

'Nice going, (y/n)...'

The swordsman was supposed to be teaching you how to swim, but now, not only did you embarrass yourself once again—for the fourteenth time, to be exact—but you looked like a drowned rat doing it.

"Oh, gosh, Zoro, I'm so sorry!" you apologized, finally able to speak. "I just got so nervous and before I knew it I was falling and—!"

"Hey, it's alright. That's what practice is for," he assured, carefully lowering you to your feet.

With a sigh, you hopped down, wringing out your hair with an annoyed huff.

It brought a smile to the swordsman's face.

You were so adorable.

Your puffed cheeks.

Your soaked hair.

Your furrowed brows.

You looked like a wet kitten; one he wanted to squeeze and pinch the cheeks of.

"You wanna try again?" he suggested.

"I don't think I can," you sighed, glancing at the setting sun. "It's getting dark and I promised Nami I'd help her out with her hair."

A proud grin found its way onto your lips, Zoro's heart adding an extra beat to its rhythm at the sight.

"She's got a hot date tonight, so me an' Robin are gonna help her pull out all the stops," you released your hair, allowing it to swish past your shoulders. "But you can walk back to the ship with me if you want."

That reminds him...

'Shit.'

"Uh... yeah," he nodded, awkwardly glancing around.

As you continued to fiddle with your strands, he discreetly tugged a flyer and two tickets out his swim trunks, looking over the sopping wet papers for about the hundredth time.

ONE TIME OFFER ONLY: CANDLELIT DINNER UNDER THE STARS

Want to have a special night with a special someone? Want to make magical memories that'll last a lifetime? Enter our island's annual Tournament of Strength!

Whoever can lift the most wins an all-expenses-paid dinner on the beach under the stars!

(Formal attire required. Officials are not responsible for any injuries retained during the competition)

Zoro had competed in the tournament earlier that day, and to say he won by a landslide was an understatement.

He won by a hospital building.

Literally.

He uprooted and bench-pressed the local hospital.

The swordsman knew no one on the little, out-of-the-way island was beating that, and he needed those tickets.

But now that he had them in his hand, a new sensation he'd never known before suddenly introduced itself to his stomach.

Nerves.

Roronoa Zoro... the notorious pirate hunter... the man with a bounty over a billion... the man known throughout the seas for his ruthlessness... was scared to ask out a girl.

It was almost laughable, were he not so frustrated with himself.

'C'mon! It's just (y/n)! Man up and do it!'

With a sigh, he glanced at you, noticing you were still distracted by your swimsuit.

Perfect.

Whistling, he dropped the flyer in the ocean, allowing the waves to slowly carry it toward you.

"Huh?" you raised a brow, feeling something brush against your leg. "A piece of paper?"

Bending down, you picked it up, being mindful of its wetness as you didn't want it to tear.

"Huh? Oh, man. People really need to learn how to pick up after themselves," Zoro nodded, trying and failing to feign ignorance.

'Idiot!'

"Yeah, I can't stand it when people litter," you agreed, completely oblivious.

"Yeah, totally. It's the worst," he rested his hands on his hips. "But... what's the paper? Something important?"

"Nah. It's just an event flyer."

"An event flyer?"

"Yeah, I'm surprised someone dropped it. All the girls in town were gushing about it earlier today."

"Yeah... what do you think about it?"

"I think someone probably got excited and dropped the flyer."

"Not that. What do you think about the flyer?"

"The flyer? Um... I think it's nice. I like the little star designs on the corners."

"No, not that. The—"

"Hey, sweetness," a random man appeared out of nowhere, eyeing you up. "I've been meaning to talk to you."

Turning around, you raised a brow, pointing to yourself.

"Me?"

"Who the hell are you?" Zoro asked, not bothering to extinguish the annoyance in his voice.

"I'm just a guy who'd like to talk to the lady for a moment," he glanced to you, flashing a sleazy smile. "If that's alright?"

"Oh, sure, I guess," you shrugged, turning back to the swordsman. "Be back in a sec, Zoro."

"(y/n), I—"

But the two of you had already walked off, forcing the swordsman to let out a groan of frustration.

None of this would be happening if you just manned up...

'Shut it.'

Not wasting a second, Zoro trailed after you both, hanging back a good distance so you didn't notice him.

You walking off with another man left a bad taste in his mouth, especially given your innately trusting nature.

It wasn't that he believed you couldn't handle yourself, or were weak in any way, he just preferred to be safe rather than sorry.

Besides, he didn't mind acting as your bodyguard.

Enjoyed it, actually.

Other than Luffy, Zoro didn't trust anyone to protect you to the fullest and farthest extent that he did.

And that wasn't even a dig to his crew.

Many just thoroughly misunderstood the lengths this man was willing to go to... the pain he was willing to put himself through, for you.

Except for his captain.

When you and the man finally came to a stop, Zoro stopped as well, watching intently as the two of you talked.

"A date?!" you exclaimed, shocked.

"Yeah, sweetness," the rando nodded, grinning widely. "I've been watchin' you all day, and have been meaning to ask."

"First of all, I would prefer if you'd stop calling me that. My name is (y/n). And second, I don't know you that well...?"

"Mark," he filled in for you.

"Mark... we've just met. And I'm sorry but I just don't really feel comfortable going on a date with you."

"I know that, sweetness, but we could always get to kn—"

As the man's eyes flicked past your head, his blood ran cold, gaze suddenly locked with the first mate of the Strawhat crew.

Zoro was furious, sizing him up with a glare reserved only for those guilty of unforgivable crimes in his eyes.

This crime in particular making the poor bastard deserving of capital punishment.

"Ugh, it's (y/n)," you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest at his failure to listen, completely oblivious to the war going on behind you. "Jeez..."

"Sorry, sweetness!" he blurted, quickly turning around and speed walking away.

"You don't have to apologize for asking, but at least get my name right!" you called after him.

With perfect timing, Zoro walked up to stand beside you, returning your smile to your face.

"Hey! Sorry about that. That guy was super weird," you sighed, turning to him and allowing your shoulders to sink. "I've really gotta get going now. Nami's gonna kill me if I don't help her."

You moved to step around him, about to break into a half-jog/half-sprint.

It was now or never...

"Wait, (y/n)," Zoro stopped you, quickly grabbing your wrist.

You halted, raising a brow and glancing at him with a confused expression.

"Hm? What's up?"

Inhaling through his nose, the swordsman took a deep breath, calming his racing heart.

"That flyer... the one I was asking you about earlier... it was mine," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "I was holding onto it because I wanted to ask you about it."

Intrigued, you completely turned to face him, tilting your head.

"Ask me about it?"

He nodded, a faint tinge of red rising from his neck to his cheeks.

"Why?"

"Well... I won the contest... and got the tickets to the fancy dinner..."

Your eyes widened slightly, becoming starry.

"And I wanted to know if you wanted to... possibly go with me... tonight?"

Tensing his muscles, he braced himself for anything.

A punch.

A scoff.

A harsh no.

But to his surprise, you did none of those things, instead letting out a giddy squeal as you nearly jumped on top of him, throwing your arms around his neck.

"Of course!" you cheesed, utterly over the moon. "Zoro, I'd love to! Oh, my gosh, are you kidding?!"

He instantly wrapped his arms around your waist, a wide grin stretching across his lips as his shoulders sank with relief.

Thank God...

"I have the perfect dress in mind! That blue one I bought in town today! No, wait! The green one! It'll match your hair!"

Suddenly, you gasped, remembering something deathly important.

"Crap! Nami's hair! I forgot!"

Quickly, the swordsman put you down, allowing you to give him a big peck on the cheek before you broke into a sprint.

"I'll see you later tonight, Zo! I can't wait!" you waved, your smile blinding as you began to weave through umbrellas and other beach-goers.

And, if one were to look closely, you could see hearts in the swordsman's eyes.

Zoro had it baaad, no doubt about it.

And he'd gotten to the point where he honestly didn't even care anymore.

He'd allow you to gush all over him and chat to your heart's content if it meant he could see that smile again, and see you so unabashedly happy.

You were a sweetheart, and deserved the world.

And he'd be damned if he didn't try his hardest to give it you.

[tortillamastersblog]

First Date | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: foul language, a shit ton of fluff, and smut (if you squint)

Summary: After recovering and moving to New York to start your new life, you finally take Sam on a first date. . .

Masterlist

_______________________________________________

"How do I look?" | ask, fixing my collar nervously in front of the mirror.

"For the hundredth time, you look great!" Liam exclaims, and I glance at my phone to see him nodding encouragingly on my screen.

I sigh and run my fingers through my hair once again before dropping my arms and turning away from the mirror.

"I feel like I'm going to throw up," | admit, picking up my phone while Liam laughs.

"You're ridiculous. You're not going to throw up. Why are you so nervous anyway? You've been living with Sam for almost three months now."

I shrug on my jacket and crouch down to slip on my shoes. "I don't know! It's just... this is our first real date and I want to impress her." I look at my phone to see Liam's face softening.

"I get that," he says gently, "but there really is no need to be nervous. This is Sam we're talking about.

She loves you so much, she'll be impressed no matter what you do, or where you take her."

"I guess you're right." | take a deep breath and grab my keys.

Sam and I moved in together after I got out of the hospital. At first, I went to live with her and Tara in their old apartment, but since then I got a new job at Liam's company and the apartment that comes with it. 

Tara moved into an apartment of her own with Anika and Mindy.

They live close to campus, while Sam and I live on the upper west side. It's the same building Liam lives in, but he's currently on a business trip in Dallas, hence why he's on the phone with me for moral support rather than being here in person.

Sam is at Tara's, getting ready for our date since Tara, Mindy, and Anika insisted it would be cute if I didn't see Sam all dressed up until I went over to theirs to pick her up.

"Of course I'm right," Liam teased lightheartedly.

"Now go and have fun! I'll talk to you tomorrow." I snort, but smile. "Yeah, yeah. Talk to you tomorrow.

“Bye!"

"Bye!"

I hang up and I take another look at myself in the mirror before squaring my shoulders and leaving the apartment.

I lock the door behind me and take the elevator at the end of the hallway down to the parking garage. It's just as fancy as the rest of the building and it spares me the trouble of finding a parking spot out on the street which is always a nightmare.

The bouquet of red roses I got earlier sits on the passenger seat of the car when I get in and I make sure it’s secure before starting the car and making my way across the city.

It's a surprisingly short drive because for some reason there is barely any traffic. There's also a parking spot right in front of Tara's apartment building which makes my heart skip a beat because I thought l'd have more time to prepare myself for seeing Sam.

I have no idea what she's going to wear, but Tara texted me a couple of minutes ago, telling me I'm going to faint when I see her.

I grab the flowers and hop out of the car, tapping my foot nervously on the elevator ride up to the apartment. I love Sam, and I know she loves me, but after all is said and done, this is still our first date and I want it to go well. 

“Oh hey! You’re right on time!” Anika greets me at the door and even goes so far as to pull me in for a hug. We aren’t exactly close, but ever since I saved her life she’s been extra nice to me. 

“Hey, Anika.” I smile and shift on my feet nervously.

“Babe? Is that Y/N?” Mindy calls out from somewhere in the apartment and Anika shouts back a yes, which makes Mindy appear a moment later with a smirk on her face.

“Hi, Y/N.” She pulls me into a careful hug, making sure not to ruin the flowers. “You look dashing.”

I feel myself blush and avert my eyes momentarily, clearing my throat. “Uh– Thanks, Mindy.”

When I look back up, Mindy’s smirk has turned into a soft smile and she and Anika share a knowing look before ushering me into the apartment and closing the door behind me. 

“Tara and Sam will be right out,” Anika explains, and not even a second later, Tara comes bouncing around the corner.  

“Y/N!” she exclaims happily, however unlike Mindy and Anika she doesn’t close the distance between us to hug me. She simply stops by the corner and smiles brightly, her eyes darting between me and the hallway to her left, which is shielded from my view. 

And then I hear it. The telltale sound of high heels on the hardwood floor.

Sam.

I hold my breath and wait patiently for her to appear,and when she does, I really do feel like fainting. In a regular shirt, she’s already stunning, but right now she’s simply breathtaking. She’s wearing a simple black, one shoulder dress that has a slit running up the length of her thigh and a pair of matching black ankle strap heels. The front of her hair has been tied back, so it’s out of her face while the rest of it flows down her back in soft waves. To tie back the entire look, she’s applied some makeup to highlight her dark eyes, her lipstick a soft red so as to not distract from her eyes.

“Hey,” she says softly with a shy smile on her face.

“H-Hi,” I stutter, unable to take my eyes off her. We’ve not even left the apartment yet and she’s already got me swooning over her. 

Tara, Mindy, and Anika watch us staring at each other, amusement on all of their faces before Mindy clears her throat, prompting me to finally move.

I step further into the apartment and hold out my hand, my knees almost buckling when Sam takes it with a dimpled smile. I notice her nails are painted the same shade of red as her lipstick, and it makes me marvel at just how much thought and effort she’s put into her appearance tonight.

“You look–” Good? Great? Beautiful? No. None of those words describe the way she looks right now. I bite the inside of my cheek, and squeeze her hand before finally settling on, “-- absolutely breathtaking.”

“Thank you.” Sam looks away shyly before meeting my eyes again, this time with a faint blush on her cheeks. “You look amazing, too.”

I snort because I wouldn’t even dare to compare our looks tonight, but I don’t disagree with her. Instead, I bring the bouquet of roses between us and say, “These are for you.”

Her eyes light up and she glances at the roses before looking back at me. “For me?” she asks quietly which makes me chuckle softly and nod. “Thank you.”

She takes them, her cheeks now redder than before and intertwines our fingers. 

“You’re welcome.” I want to kiss her, but I don’t want to smudge her lipstick, so I opt for giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Ready to go?”

Damn. She even smells great. Is that sandalwood? 

Sam nods and I squeeze her hand before turning back around to find Tara, Mindy, and Anika still watching us.

Tara and Anika both look like they’re going to melt, and despite Mindy trying to play it cool, I can also see affection dancing in her eyes. 

“You two are so cute, I love it.”  Anika sighs and takes Mindy’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “Aren’t they cute?” she asks and Mindy just shrugs.

“I guess,” she admits when Anika shoots her a disapproving look which makes all of us chuckle.

“They’re cute and hot,” Tara teases with a smirk. “I mean, honestly guys, you’re like the power couple of all power couples!” 

Sam laughs bashfully and tightens her hold on my hand while I groan. “Sproouuut!”

“What?! It’s true,” Tara insists before her smirk turns into a genuine smile. “I’m so happy for you guys. You deserve this. Enjoy your night.”

My cheeks are still warm, but I smile gratefully and dip my chin in acknowledgement. “Thank you.”

Mindy and Anika wish us a great night too and then we’re off. 

It’s a little cold outside since it’s the beginning of March, so before we exit the building, I stop and take off my jacket, draping it around Sam’s shoulders before leading her the rest of the way to the car.

I make sure to open the door for her, which earns me another shy smile. It makes me feel accomplished and I quickly get into the driver’s seat to start our drive to the restaurant.

So far, so good, I think. 

“Where are you taking me?” Sam asks after some time when I come to a stop at a red light. 

I glance at her before looking back at the road and shrug casually. “It’s a surprise.”

“What? Still?” she whines playfully and out of the corner of my eye I can see her pout. 

I chuckle softly and reach over to squeeze her thigh quickly.  “Mhmm.”

The light turns green and I’m quick to take my hand back to put it back on the gear stick.

Sam huffs, but doesn’t push it. She places her hand on my thigh instead, and takes my phone with her other hand to change the music . 

Her warm touch makes my stomach do flips and for the rest of the drive I rest my hand on top of hers every chance I get.

“Alright, this is it,” I say when I finally pull up next to the high rise the restaurant is in. 

Sam’s jaw drops and she takes in the glass facade of the building with wide eyes. “Are you serious?” she asks and I just smile, getting out of the car and handing my keys to the approaching valet who’s dressed in a sleek black tux.

Then, I round the front of the car and open Sam’s door, offering her a hand when she gets out, which she gratefully accepts. 

“Y/N… What is this? What are we doing here? Is this a joke?” she asks, which makes me laugh softly. She goes to take the roses with her, but I stop her with a tug on her hand. They’d just get in the way in the restaurant, and it’s not like they’re going to wilt if they’re without water for another two hours or so.

“It’s not a joke, Sammy. We’re having dinner here. Well, not here, but in the restaurant on the sixty-eight floor,” I explain, watching her take in the building one more time before her eyes land back on me.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

I pulled a couple of strings to get a reservation tonight, but for her, I’d do anything. Yes, the food will probably be overpriced, and the other customers will probably be snobby and stuck up, but it will all be worth it for the view and the experience. 

“T-this is too much.” She hesitates when I go to lead her into the building, so I turn back around with an encouraging smile, letting go of her hand to wrap my arms around her waist.

She steps closer and I place a kiss on her forehead, making her close her eyes momentarily. “It’s not too much, Sam. I love you, and you deserve the world, so please let me treat you tonight.”

Sam looks at me with uncertainty shining in her eyes, so I place another kiss on her forehead, this time between her eyebrows. 

“Please?” I whisper and after another moment's consideration she nods. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” she says, cupping my cheeks. She leans up to kiss me, still having to do so despite her heels, but I pull back which makes her frown.

“Your lipstick,” I try to explain, but she rolls her eyes and kisses me softly. 

After more than four months of being together, kissing her still sends shockwaves through my body. My cheeks feel like they're on fire where her hands are touching them and my lips tingle when she pulls back, mumbling, “I don’t care,” before pecking my lips once more and pulling away completely.

I stare at her like a love sick fool and smile sheepishly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she replies easily and after making sure her lipstick isn’t all too smudged, we finally make our way into the building and up to the restaurant.

I keep catching Sam glancing at me over her menu, so after the fifth or so time I put mine down and smile at her quizzically. “What?”

She looks around the dimly lit restaurant as if she’s afraid of someone overhearing her before leaning forward in her seat and saying, “This is weird, isn’t it? Why am I so nervous? We live together for God’s sake, and we’ve had dinner before. Not like this, obviously, but still. I mean, how come there are no prices on the menu? Is that normal? Is that how fancy restaurants like this trick you into ordering something super expensive or–?”

I laugh softly and place my hand over hers on the table, effectively cutting her off. “It is a little weird because we’ve never done this before and I’m nervous, too, but let’s not let the fact that we’re on our first official date be the reason why we have a bad time.” I smile  and bring her hand up to my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Also, no, the restaurant isn’t trying to trick you into getting something super expensive. You just don’t have the prices on your menu because the waiter gave you what they call a ladies menu.” I grab my own menu and turn it around to show her that I have one with all the prices on it. “It’s weird, I know, and it’s a pretty outdated concept, but it is what it is and I want you to get whatever you want without feeling guilty about the cost, so maybe it’s a good thing.”

Sam presses her lips into a thin line because she still feels bad that I’m willing to spoil her all the time, so I send her a reassuring smile and wiggle my eyebrows suggestively. 

“Come on, live a little, Sammy. What else am I supposed to spend all my inheritance on except you and Tara?”

That makes her crack a smile and after a while we’re ready to order.

While Sam gets the Coq au vin, I order the mushroom risotto, and when the server asks us if we want wine with our food, I decline politely.

A glass of white wine would pair great with my risotto, but Sam can’t drink because of her meds, so I’m not drinking either.

“So,” I say as soon as the server is gone again. “How was your day?”

Sam turns her attention from the brightly lit city outside to me and raises an eyebrow as if asking if I really want to hear about her day when there’s so much more we could be talking about.

I nod encouragingly and take a sip of my water, my entire attention fixed on her despite the stunning view of the city around us.

This is a first date, yes, and people normally don’t talk about their day on a first date, but we’ve known each other forever and I’m simply here to enjoy her company and spoil her.

“Well. . .” Sam goes on to tell me about her relatively stress-free morning at the cafe she works at as a barista before diving into the photography lecture she had this afternoon.

Ever since I got my new job and we moved in together, I’ve managed to convince her not to work full time any more and find something she actually enjoys doing. At first, it took a while for her to figure out what she liked after being in survival mode for so long, but then she discovered her love for photography which is how she ended up enrolling in a couple of community college classes. 

She tells me about a couple of lighting techniques I’ve never heard of and goes on to explain the differences between digital and film cameras.

It’s fascinating, really, how much there is to know about photography, and I keep asking follow up questions which makes Sam’s eyes light up. 

I love listening to her talk, especially about things she’s excited about, but after twenty minutes of non-stop rambling, she asks me to tell her about my day.

“Well,” I start the same way she did while she takes a sip of water, “I went to work until four and then I went to the gym before heading home and getting ready.”

I add some details about a particularly interesting meeting I had before telling her about  a guy who tripped over some dumbbells in the gym, which makes her laugh.

Conversation flows easily after that until we finally get our food which, as expected, tastes absolutely amazing despite its insane price. We share some bites here and there, letting the other try each dish before our table gets cleared and our server hands us some dessert menus.

We’re both more than full, but after some back and forth we decide to order some chocolate souffle to share because neither of us can resist its calling.

In the end, it tastes even better than expected and I tell the server to give our compliments to the chef when he comes back to pick up the empty plate. 

After that, Sam excuses herself to go to the bathroom, and I’m quick to pay the check before she gets back.

“Ready to go?” I ask when she returns to the table which makes her smile and nod.

“Yes, let’s go home.”

I grab my jacket off the back of her chair and help her put it on again before grabbing her hand and leading her out of the restaurant.

Back on the street, the valet has already pulled my car around, so I tip him generously and help Sam into the car before getting in myself and driving off.

“Thank you for tonight,” Sam says after a moment of silence. “I had a lot of fun, and the food was terrific.”

I can’t look at her because I have to focus on the road, but I do smile and dip my chin to acknowledge that I heard her, adding, “You’re very welcome. I’m glad you liked it.”

Letting out a sigh of contentment, Sam places a hand on my thigh and lets silence wash over us while I continue driving us home.

It’s peaceful, and I feel all warm inside, knowing that she enjoyed the night as much as I have, but then her hand on my thigh starts moving upwards which makes my heart skip a beat. 

For a moment I think it might have been unintentional, but then she moves it even higher, and when I risk a glance at her I find her already looking at me with dark eyes.

“Sam. . .” I swallow thickly and shift in my seat, almost letting out a gasp when she starts tracing circles on the inside of my thigh with her thumb.

“Yes?” she asks, feigning innocence.

“D–Don’t do that,” I stutter. “You’re distracting me.”

“I’m not doing anything,” she says calmly and I grit my teeth when her hand moves up even further.

Since getting together we’ve had our fair share of kisses and make out sessions, but we never went further than that. In the beginning it was because of my back and then because we never really had any time for it with me figuring out my new job and Sam readjusting to her new life and finally doing something she likes. Tara being over constantly doesn’t help either, but tonight nothing is holding us back and Sam seems to know that.

I pull into the underground parking garage of our building in record time a couple of minutes later before turning off the car and leaning over the center console to capture Sam’s lips in a searing kiss.

She immediately reciprocates it and wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me closer and deepening the kiss.

She tastes like the souffle we shared and I can’t help but shiver at the sound of a soft moan slipping past her lips when I trap her lower lip between my teeth.

The position we’re in isn’t comfortable by any means, but we don’t pull apart until we’re both panting, desperate for air.

“Shit,” Sam curses under her breath and when she looks at me I see nothing but desire in her half-lidded eyes.

“Should we take this upstairs?” I ask which makes Sam nod adamantly.

I jump out of the car and hurry to the other side of it to open Sam’s door and help her out.

“Thank you,” she says, still breathless, and before I know it her lips are on mine again as we stumble toward the elevator.

It’s hot and messy, but I can’t get enough of her and when we finally make it to our apartment we waste no time kicking off our shoes and making our way to the bedroom. 

As soon as the door slams shut behind us, Sam pushes me against it, her hands in my hair at the back of my neck to pull me infinitely closer.

My hands are around her waist, grasping at the fabric of her dress while our lips move against each other in a passionate kiss.

Sooner rather than later, much to my dismay, we’re both forced to break apart once again to catch our breath. 

Sam doesn’t seem bothered by it though because her lips find their way to my neck while her hands move down my body until they settle on my hips where her fingers play with the buckle of my belt.

It’s clear what she wants, but I don’t want to go on until she actually says it, so, reluctantly, I pull back so she’s forced to look up at me.

“Wha– Are you okay?” she pants, her lust filled eyes momentarily clouded with concern.

I chuckle breathlessly and tighten my grip around her waist to prevent her from stepping out of our embrace.

“I’m fine,” I assure her, pecking her lips. “But I need to know you’re okay with where this is heading.”

“I’m okay, I want this,” she whispers. She tugs on my belt and stands on her tiptoes to whisper the next part into my ear. “So would you please take my dress off and fuck me already?”

A strangled sound slips past my lips and I pull my head back so fast, I’m surprised I don’t get whiplash because of it. “You– You want me to. . . What?”

Sam smiles mischievously and bites her lower lip, looking up at me through her lashes. “You heard me,” she mumbles, “Fuck me.”

Goddamn.

I swallow harshly, hearing my heart pounding in my ears, but within the next second it’s as if a switch has been flipped in me.

I bend down and lift her up by the back of her legs, making her squeal in surprise before my lips are back on hers.

The position we’re in makes her dress ride up, but she doesn’t seem to care as she wraps her arms around my neck and starts grinding against my stomach.

“Fuck,’” I gasp when she bites my bottom lip and carry her to bed, making her laugh briefly when I unceremoniously dump her onto it so I can get to work on taking off my clothes while she watches.  

Once I’ve discarded all of them, I join her on the bed, making quick work of her dress while she runs her hands over my shoulders and nibbles on my earlobe. 

“I love you,” I whisper a couple of minutes later when she arches her back and moans against my lips.

“I. . . love you, too,” she sobs, her eyes screwed shut while her nails dig into my back and I’m quick to kiss her again to swallow her next moans and whimpers.

The next morning I wake up without Sam by my side, but when I sit up I smile at the smell of pancakes wafting into the bedroom. 

_______________________________________________

And they lived happily ever after!

Hi, everyone! I'm not back for good yet, but I just had to write this because it's been stuck in my head ever since finishing Back To You.

Also, a huge thank you to everyone who was part of creating the Back To You Playlist ❤️ I love you all and words cannot describe how honored I feel.

Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @rqizzu @pithod @morganismspam23 @idontliketoread2137

* not proofread yet ‘cause I’m lazyyyyy

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 15

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: angst, tension

Matt finishes up his shots, handing the jacket off to Chris before running a hand through his hair.

I take that as my cue, slipping my own jacket on. Just as I’m adjusting the sleeves, Matt starts walking toward me. My pulse skips slightly, but I force myself to act normal.

"Nice jacket" I say, my voice light, playful. I tug at the sleeve for emphasis. "We’re twinning."

He follows my motion, then looks back at his own. For a moment, there’s a flicker of something in his expression, something almost unreadable, before he smirks. "Yeah, guess so."

I tilt my head, raising a brow. "Trying to be me now?"

Matt huffs a short laugh, shaking his head. "Nah, this was all Chris. Maybe he wanted to show it was unisex or something, I don’t know." His tone is easygoing, dismissive, like the whole thing didn’t really matter.

Something in me sinks slightly. I don’t know what I was expecting, maybe some kind of confirmation that there was a meaning behind it. That it wasn’t just a coincidence. That he had chosen it intentionally. But I nod, forcing myself to brush it off, not wanting to read too much into it.

Before I can say anything else, Nick, who had clearly been listening, steps in. "Okay, well, since you two are basically in matching outfits, you should get some pictures together."

I blink, glancing at Matt, who looks just as thrown off by the suggestion. He hesitates for a split second, then shrugs. "Yeah, sure. Why not?"

Chris, already looking back at photos, gives an approving nod. "Yeah, that could be cool. Matt stand behind Y/n."

I swallow, suddenly more aware of the way my jacket feels against my skin, the way Matt's standing just close enough for our sleeves to almost touch. I nod, stepping forward, trying to ignore the way my heart is beating.

We start taking photos, the fading sun casting a golden hour glow over everything. We take turns, everyone gets their solo shots, duo shots in turns between the boys then some of just Chris, Matt and Nick together. There’s small moments, genuine laughter caught between shots.

At one point, Chris calls me over, gesturing for me to stand beside him. "Let’s get some together" he says, adjusting his hoodie. It would be nice for both of us to have photos together, considering how hard we've worked on this.

By the time we’re done, the sky is a deep navy blue. We huddle around, flicking through the photos. The excitement is evident, everyone’s happy with how they turned out.

Chris straightens up, stretching his arms over his head. "Alright" he announces, a grin stretching across his face. "I say we celebrate."

Nick smirks. "You just want an excuse to go drinking."

Chris shrugs. "Yeah, and?"

We all laugh, the energy still buzzing in the air as we gather our things. The beach is still calm and quiet with the sounds of distant music playing from the bars lining the shore. We make our way up to the strip and walk into a lively sports bar.

Chris makes his way over to the bar and orders a round of drinks, effortlessly charming the bartender as he waits. Meanwhile, the rest of us find a table near the open air area, where there's a light breeze.

I decide to make my way to the bar, stepping up beside Chris. “I’ll help you carry them” I offer, reaching for a couple of glasses.

He flashes me a grateful smile. “Thanks” he says, passing two drinks to me. “Man, I’m so happy with how everything turned out. The photos, the jackets, everything.”

I smirk, nudging him playfully. “Even Matt’s jacket?”

Chris raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

I roll my eyes. “Come on, don’t act clueless. His is basically identical to mine, my initial, my favorite number. You trying to make us twins or something?” I tease, though there’s an edge of curiosity in my tone.

Chris looks at me for a moment, confused. Then, with a slow shake of his head, he says, “I didn’t do that.”

My head snaps towards Chris. “What?”

“I didn’t pick Matt’s design” Chris explains, grabbing the last drink. “He sat with me when I was placing the order back in Vegas. I had already filled in everyone else’s details, but he got to choose his own.”

The words hit me like a slow motion realization, the pieces falling into place one by one.

Matt chose it himself.

The same initial. The same number. On purpose. And he played it off.

I swallow, my fingers tightening slightly around the glasses in my hand. My heart thumping in my chest. Chris is still talking, but his voice fades into the background as my mind races. I don’t even know how to feel, shocked? Conflicted? Something deeper?

Chris finally glances over at me, noticing the shift in my expression. “You good?”

I snap back to reality, forcing a small smile. “Yeah,” I lie. “Just.. taking the whole night in.”

Chris doesn’t question it, just shrugs before nodding toward the table. “Come on, let’s bring these over.”

I follow, but my mind is elsewhere.

Matt did it on purpose.

And I have no idea what that means.

As we set the drinks down on our table, I sneak a glance across at Matt. He’s leaned back in his chair, talking to Nate about something. My His jacket rests against the chair beside him, the initial and number staring back at me like some kind of silent confession.

I try my best to brush it off and we fall into easy conversation within the group. Chris and Nate get another round of drinks, sliding them across the table. The energy between us is nice, everyone is buzzing after a successful shoot and the anticipation of whatever the night might bring.

Chris grins as he leans back in his chair. “I mean, tell me that wasn’t one of the cleanest shoots we’ve ever done. No arguments, no disasters.. kinda feels wrong.”

Nate laughs. “It’s because I was there. Everything runs smoother when I’m around.”

Matt snorts, taking a sip of his drink. “Yeah, okay, let’s not rewrite history. Weren’t you the one who knocked over a whole light stand last time and blamed it on the wind?”

Nate places a hand on his chest, replying in defense. “It was the wind. A strong gust. Nature conspired against me.”

Chris shakes his head. “The only thing working against you is your own coordination.”

I laugh, settling back in my chair as the teasing continues. It’s easy like this, the kind of comfort that only comes from knowing each other for so long.

Nick pulled up some of the photos on his phone. He slides it across the table, and everyone leans in to look.

“Oh, this one’s sick” Matt says, tapping the screen. “But I feel like Y/n should’ve gotten the solo shot standing on the rocks instead of me.”

I raise an eyebrow. “So you’re admitting I would’ve done it better?”

He tilts his head, pretending to think. “Mmm, not exactly. Just saying your balance is probably better, considering I nearly fell to my death up there.”

“You tripped once.”

“And it was a near death experience.”

Nick laughs. “Guy swayed a little and saw his life flash before his eyes.”

“I felt myself falling, kid” Matt insists, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t expect you guys to understand.”

I roll my eyes, reaching over to take the phone from him. “Anyway, let’s look at other pictures before this turns into the Matt Survival Story.”

The night continues like that, joking and teasing. The drinks kept coming, round after round, and at some point, I stopped keeping track. The buzz in my head was fun, my limbs loose, and the laughter around the table made me feel nice.

Chris, clearly feeling it too, leaned forward suddenly, eyes wide with a drunken revelation. “You know what sounds unreal right now?”

Nate raised an eyebrow. “Enlighten us.”

“Churro’s.” Chris declared, as if he’d just discovered the meaning of life. “Like, really good, proper churros. There’s gotta be a spot somewhere on this strip.”

Nick laughed, swirling the last bit of his drink in his glass before setting it down with a clink. “That actually doesn’t sound like the worst idea. Wanna walk and see what’s around?”

Chris nodded enthusiastically. “Hell yeah.”

Nate stretched, already pushing himself up from his chair. “Might as well. I could go for something sweet.”

I expected Matt to get up too, but he stayed seated, nursing his drink with an unreadable expression.

Nick glanced between us before shrugging. “You guys staying?”

Matt barely looked up. “Yeah, we’re good here.”

Chris wiggled his eyebrows at us like he knew something we didn’t before nudging Nate to move. “Alright, suit yourselves. Don’t get too bored without us.”

With that, the three of them wandered off, their voices carrying over the music and street noise before fading into the night.

I leaned back in my chair, exhaling as I swirled my straw in my drink. The silence between Matt and I stretched, but for once, it wasn’t awkward. It was.. easy.

“You’re holding up well” he commented, nodding toward my glass. “Thought you’d be slurring by now.”

I smirked, tilting my head. “So you underestimated me?”

“Never” he said smoothly, a small grin forming on his lips. “I just figured you’d be the responsible one tonight.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I’m on vacation. Responsibility is not in my vocabulary right now.”

Matt raised his glass slightly, as if to toast to that. “Fair enough.”

We both took a sip, the air between us charged with this weird tension, a different tension to normal, something neither of us seemed in a rush to address. 

Matt set his drink down, leaning forward slightly, his elbow resting on the table. His eyes, a little lazy from the alcohol, flickered with something unreadable.

“So, if responsibility isn’t in your vocabulary right now” he smirked, “what is?”

I smirked, continuing to swirl my straw in my glass. “Recklessness, maybe. Spontaneity.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Spontaneity, huh? That’s a dangerous game.”

I tilted my head, meeting his gaze. “Maybe I like a little danger.”

A slow grin spread across his face. “Yeah?” He leaned in slightly. “You’re full of surprises, you know that?”

I took a sip of my drink, letting the ice clink together. “And here I was, thinking I was predictable.”

He shook his head, studying me like he was trying to figure me out. “Not even close.”

Before I could respond, Nick’s voice cut through the moment, his energy a stark contrast to our quiet exchange.

“Guys!” he said, slightly breathless, plopping down into a chair, “we just found something way better than this place.”

Chris and Nate sat down beside him, both grinning.

“Oh?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Better how?”

Nick leaned forward, excitement clear in his face. “There’s a bar at the end of the street with a full on drag show happening. It looks insane.”

Chris nodded enthusiastically. “We’re talking full performances, outfits, the whole thing. You guys down?”

I glanced at Matt, whose lips twitched into an amused smirk.

“Well” he said, looking at me, “since you’re in your spontaneity era…”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You don’t even like using the term era”

Nick grinned, slapping the table. “That’s the spirit. Let’s get out of here.”

Matt lingered at my side, as we stumbled down the strip and into bar. The place is alive, bright neon lights, a shimmering backdrop behind the stage, and a drag queen in a sequined bodysuit commanding the crowd. She’s scanning the room, mic in hand, looking for her next victims to drag onstage.

Before I even have a chance to process what’s happening, Nick’s hand clasps around mine.

“Oh no” I start, shaking my head, but it’s too late.

“You know we have to do this.” he grins, practically dragging me toward the stage.

Chris, Nate, and Matt cheer from the table, egging us on like we have a choice in the matter. I laugh, half in protest, but I already know what’s about to happen.

Nick’s been dying to perform Alter Ego ever since we watched Crystal Envy and Lexi Love lip sync to it on Drag Race. And now, here we are, center stage, spotlights on us.

The beat drops, and suddenly, Nick transforms. He throws himself into the performance, rapping along flawlessly, hyping up the crowd, while I do my best to keep up, dancing and laughing through the whole thing. The drag queen is eating it up, hyping us both as if we were seasoned performers.

By the time the song ends, we’re completely breathless, and for once I’m not embarrassed by all of the attention. The drag queen dramatically bows to us, then gestures to the bartender.

“Now that is how you commit to the bit” she says into the mic. “Drinks are on the house for these two.”

We walk back to our table, joining back with the others when a tray of free shots is handed to us.

Chris whistles from the table. “I mean, if free drinks are involved, I might have to hit the stage next.”

Matt shakes his head, chuckling as I sit down.

“You really went for it” he says, impressed.

I grab a shot from the tray, still catching my breath. “What can I say? Spontaneity, remember?”

He raises his glass, smirking. “Guess you weren’t lying.”

I clink my glass against his before throwing back the shot, the burn of alcohol mixing with the rush of the night so far.

The warmth of the alcohol spreads through my body all at once, a delayed hit that makes my head spin slightly. The mix of adrenaline from the performance and the lingering buzz leaves me feeling lightheaded. My skin is still damp with sweat, a mix from dancing under the lights and the Hawaiian heat. 

I set my empty shot glass down and push back from the table. “I need some air” I mumble, mostly to myself, but Matt’s eyes flick toward me for a second before I turn away.

Stepping outside, the slight breeze feels cool against my overheated skin. I exhale, running a hand through my hair, trying to steady the rush in my head. So much has happened in just the past 24 hours. Getting my locket back, the jacket, the way he looked at me earlier, the teasing, the tension. 

It was a very different side of Matt that I wasn’t used to. 

I lean against the side of the building, staring down at my heels, my thoughts spinning faster than they should. Maybe I’ve been looking at this all wrong. Maybe Matt isn’t just Matt, the frustrating, teasing, sometimes unbearable guy in our group.

Maybe he’s the guy who went out of his way to do something meaningful for me. The guy who gets jealous when I give someone else my attention. The guy who’s been watching me just as much as I’ve been watching him.

And maybe he likes me. And maybe I like him too.

I heard the sound of the side door to the bar swinging open behind me, catching my attention. I turn to see Matt walking toward me.

“You good?” His voice is softer than usual, lacking its usual teasing edge.

I glance at him standing there with his hands in his pockets, watching me. The concern in his eyes is subtle, but it’s there.

“Yeah” I say, offering a small smile. “Just a bit warm. And very drunk.”

He chuckles, stepping closer. “Yeah, no shit. You and Nick just put on a whole damn concert in there.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “He’s been waiting for that moment.”

Matt smirks but then tilts his head slightly, considering me. “You wanna go for a walk on the beach or something? Might make you feel better.”

I hesitate for a second, but something about the way he’s looking at me makes it impossible to say no.

“Yeah” I say. “That sounds nice.”

We head down toward the sand, the noise from the strip fading as the waves take over and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

Matt walks beside me, hands tucked into his pockets, but there’s an ease to his posture. “So” he starts, a teasing lilt creeping back into his voice, “you gonna add karaoke connoisseur to your resume after that performance?”

I roll my eyes but laugh. “Oh, absolutely. Gonna start touring next week.”

He grins. “I’d buy tickets.”

I nudge him playfully. “You’d probably take the piss out of me the whole time.”

“Maybe.” He shrugs, biting back a smirk. “Or maybe I’d just sit front row and admire the view.”

I feel my stomach flip at his words, and suddenly the air between us feels differen again. Even more intense. My steps slow just slightly, and he matches my pace.

“You’re such a flirt” I say, narrowing my eyes at him.

Matt smirks. “And yet, you’re still walking with me.”

I shake my head, trying not to smile, but I know he sees right through me. The alcohol has made me bold, but maybe it’s not just the drinks. Maybe it’s him.

We keep walking, the conversation flowing like we never hated each other. Playful. Teasing.

I laugh at something he says, shaking my head. “You’re ridiculous.”

He grins, nudging me lightly with his shoulder. “And yet, you love it.”

I roll my eyes but don’t deny it. Before I can think of a comeback, my heel suddenly sinks too deep into the sand, throwing me off balance. I stumble to the side, my hands instinctively reaching out.

Matt reacts fast, catching me before I fall to the ground. One arm wraps firmly around my waist, steadying me, while the other grips my hand. The warmth of his touch against me sends a jolt through me, and I realize just how close we are, his face only inches from mine, his breath grazing over my cheek.

“Damn” he laughs, holding me upright. “You good?”

I grip his forearm, steadying myself. “Yeah, just, heels and sand? Not a great mix" I say, trying to play it cool. "And to think you were suggesting that I should’ve been up on the rocks earlier.”

Matt smirks, but instead of saying anything witty back, he suddenly crouches down in front of me.

I blink. “What are you-”

“Relax” he murmurs, fingers already working at the straps of my heels. “You’re gonna break an ankle trying to walk in these out here We don't need any more ankle problems.”

I open my mouth to argue, but the way he carefully unbuckles each strap, sliding the shoes off my feet like it’s the most natural thing in the world, has my brain rewiring itself.

Once he’s done, he stands, holding my heels in one hand. “There. Now you won’t have an excuse to fall into my arms again.”

I cross my arms, scoffing at him. “I didn’t mean to fall into your arms.”

Matt tilts his head, that signature smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah? Could’ve fooled me.”

I narrow my eyes. “You’re so full of yourself.”

He grins. “And yet, you’re still walking with me.”

I bite my lip to keep from smiling too much, but I know he sees it. He always does. I bump my shoulder against his playfully. “You know, you don’t have to carry my shoes. I am capable of holding things.”

He smirks. “Yeah, but then what excuse would I have to be a gentleman?”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Oh, so you’re a gentleman now?”

Matt raises an eyebrow, stopping in his tracks.

“I mean” he says, looking down at me, “I did just save you from eating sand. That’s got to count for something.”

I glance up at him, my heart racing, but I play it cool. “Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe I let myself fall on purpose.” I say sarcastically.

His lips curve into a slow, knowing smirk. “Oh yeah? You wanted me to catch you?”

I roll my eyes dramatically. “Don’t flatter yourself, Sturniolo.”

“Oh, so we’re using last names now?” He steps closer to me. “Careful, that’s dangerously close to flirting.”

 “Please, if I was flirting, you’d know it.”

“Would I?”

I exhale, feeling my stomach flip. He’s so damn cocky, but I can’t even pretend I don’t love it.

I tilt my chin up defiantly, a slow grin spreading across my lips. “Mhm.”

My heart is racing. I can feel the alcohol in my veins, but this, this moment, is all me. No liquid courage, no overthinking. Just me and him.

I step closer, tilting my head slightly, my body moving on instinct. My mind is made up. I want to close the distance. I want him.

I lean in.

But just as my lips are about to brush his, Matt turns his head.

“We should head back.” His voice is quiet, almost strained.

I freeze.

The rejection slaps me across the face. I pull back quickly, my face heating in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol.

I swallow hard, forcing a nod. “Yeah.. yeah, okay.”

Matt shifts awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. His usual cocky demeanor is gone, replaced by something I can’t quite read. Guilt? Hesitation?

I don’t wait to figure it out. I turn on my heel and start walking back toward the bar, my arms crossed tightly over my chest.

My stomach twists uncomfortably. How did I get it so wrong? The way he looked at me, the way he held my waist, the way he played into everything, was it just in my head?

I don’t know.

But what I do know is that I just made a move.. and Matt Sturniolo didn’t want me back.

a/n : i would run into the ocean and never return if i got rejected like that

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[baeksqt]

𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐄 — aitana bonmatí

aitana bonmatí x fem!reader

a/n: accidentally deleted this when I wanted to edit it ಠ_ಠ (I hate tumblr), so if you feel like you’ve seen this before, you have, just leave a like and keep stepping

word count: 1245

genre: fluff

summary: an adorable aitana meet cute

On a breezy spring afternoon in Barcelona, the cosy bookshop cafe Letras Vivas buzzed with its usual charm. Tucked away on a quiet side street, a haven for readers and coffee lovers alike. The warm aroma of roasted beans mingled with the soft rustle of pages being turned and the occasional tinkling of laughter from patrons. The cafe was the kind of place where time seemed to slow, where strangers might strike up conversations over dog-eared novels or debate the best way to make a cortado.

You step inside, grateful for the reprieve from the city’s lively streets. The team had arrived in Barcelona a few days early to acclimate before the upcoming Champions League final. The pressure was immense – two giants of women’s football going head-to-head – but you had sought this little sanctuary for some peace. As much as you thrive on competition, moments like these were a way to offer clarity amidst the chaos.

Clad in a casual, well-worn shirt and a pair of faded jeans, you seemed a world away from the electrifying football star celebrated in the vibrant match posters that adorned the streets of Lyon. As you moved through the dimly lit bookstore, your fingers delicately glided over the spines of countless books lining the shelves near the entrance, occasionally pausing to absorb the titles that beckoned softly. Your gaze eventually landed on a novel, its cover a breathtaking watercolour that captured the charm of a seaside town, an irresistible pull urging you to pull it from the shelf and delve into its world.

At the counter, Aitana Bonmatí, FC Barcelona’s fiery midfielder, was already ordering her cappuccino. The barista seemed charmed by Aitana���s easy banter, her quick wit and warm laugh lighting up the space. She exuded the kind of confidence that came from knowing you were exactly where you belonged. The distinctive red-and-blue hoodie with Barça’s crest proudly displayed was casually slung over her shoulders, and drew occasional glances, but most were too polite to approach her.

As you approached the counter, Aitana turned, her grin wide and inviting, her hazel eyes bright with recognition. It took you a heartbeat to place her–you had seen that grin a hundred times before, from game footage to interviews to across the pitch. The face of Barcelona’s squad and one the most formidable centres in the game. And in just three days, your opponent. Once again.

Aitana didn’t miss the split second of hesitation that flickered across your face, and she seized the opportunity to break the ice with a playful energy. “Hey,” she said, her voice warm and laced with just a hint of mischief. “Nice to see you off the pitch.”

You blinked, caught slightly off guard but managing a smile. “Oh, uh, hi. Didn’t expect to run into you here.” Your Andalusian accent was unmistakable, and Aitana’s grin grew wider.

“You Lyon players just can’t resist the good spots, huh?” Aitana quipped, leaning casually against the counter. Her eyes flicked to the book in your hand. “Good choice. That’s one of my favourites.”

You raised an eyebrow, holding up the book. “Really? You’ve read it?”

Aitana’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm as she nodded, her ponytail swaying rhythmically with her head. “You won’t believe how captivating it is! It unfolds in this charming little fishing village—teeming with intense drama, sweeping love stories, and heart-wrenching heartbreak… it’s absolutely everything you could want! Imagine it like football, but infused with much more romance and way fewer tackles!”

A smile crept across your face as you placed the book on the counter, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. “I’ll take your word for it, but relying on my opponent’s taste in literature? That feels like a risky move!”

“Oh, come on! Today, we’re not opponents at all!” The mischievous glint in Aitana’s eyes mirrored her playful smirk. “We’re just two enthusiasts who appreciate fine coffee and extraordinary tales.”

The barista expertly crafted Aitana’s cappuccino, the velvety foam adorned with an artful heart-shaped swirl that seemed to float above the cup. Instead of making a beeline for the door, Aitana lingered, her presence radiating warmth and curiosity as she patiently waited for you to finish your order, the air around you charged with an electric sense of connection. When you joined her at a nearby table, your conversation flowed with surprising ease.

Listening intently, as Aitana, ever the local, effortlessly wove stories about her childhood in Vilanova. Her voice softened as she talked about watching games at Camp Nou as a kid, her dreams of one day playing on the same pitch now a reality. She pointed out a few must-visit spots within Barcelona, her favourite tapas bar tucked away in El Born and a rooftop terrace with breathtaking views of the city at sunset.

It was your turn to share, Aitana leaned in, intrigued as you painted a picture of life in France. Your voice gained a quiet pride as you described Lyon’s relentless training culture—the way it pushed everyone to their limits and brought out the best in them. The early morning drills in the pouring rain, late-night strategy sessions, and the camaraderie that came from working with some of the best players in the game.

“So you’re telling me you actually enjoy those gruelling training sessions? Compared to the easiness of Madrid?” The brunette questioned.

“It’s not about enjoying them, exactly.” You shrugged, your smile softening. “It’s about knowing they make me better. And there’s something fun about the discipline, the way it transforms you. Being at Real Madrid, I never had that.” You finished.

Aitana nodded thoughtfully, her playful demeanour giving way to a moment of genuine admiration. “I get that,” she said. “I think that’s why I love playing here—Barcelona’s always pushed me to be more, too.”

Her words hung between the two of you, a shared understanding unspoken but felt. Despite the teams you represented and the rivalry that defined you two season after season. You were both, at your cores, not so different. For a moment, the looming match disappeared, replaced by the quiet connection of two people who understood what it meant to give everything to the sport they loved.

“So,” Aitana began, cradling her cup, her tone suddenly teasing, “how’s Lyon feeling about Saturday? Ready to lose?”

You leaned forward, a playful spark in your eyes. “Confident enough to say you’ll be the one losing.” you shot back. Your laughter mingled, drawing a few curious glances from other patrons, but neither of you seemed to care, bantering for what felt like hours.

As the sun began to dip, casting the cafe in a warm golden glow, you both reluctantly stood to leave. Outside, the streets buzzed with life, the distant hum of a guitar echoing from a nearby plaza.

At the door, Aitana paused, turning to you with a smile softer than her usual confident smirk. “You know,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “maybe after the match, we should grab a coffee again. No rivalries—just books and good company.”

You tilted your head, cheeks dimpling into a grin. “Deal. But only if Lyon wins.”

Aitana laughed, backing away towards the bustling street, her voice carrying over the noise. “We’ll see about that!”

As you walked in opposite directions, you felt a strange lightness—a fleeting connection sparked by chance, lingering even as you prepared to face her on one of the biggest stages in football.

[jiminomenon]

model! karina gets sick

pairing: model! karina x assistant! female reader

word count: 926

tag(s): karina being stubborn, y/n is tired she literally needs a break now gang-, sick! karina, princess aka their child makes an appearance, just a really soft moment between these two

from my series: the devil wears prada

if y/n had known jimin was going to be this insufferable when she was sick, she would have never let her step out in the rain yesterday. in fact, she should’ve just grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her under the umbrella instead of letting her prance around like she was immune to basic human conditions. but no, jimin had insisted she was invincible, brushing off y/n’s concerns with that same haughty confidence she wore like a designer coat.

“you’ll catch a cold,” y/n had warned, holding the umbrella over them as jimin strutted toward the car, completely unbothered.

“i don’t get sick,” jimin had scoffed, flipping her damp hair over her shoulder before tossing her equally soaked coat at y/n. “only weak people do.”

fast forward to today—jimin was curled up in bed, nose red, voice hoarse, and shivering beneath a mountain of blankets. weak people, huh?

y/n stood at the bedside with her arms crossed, staring down at the miserable lump that was once the almighty yu jimin. “i told you so.”

jimin peeked at her from beneath the covers, her glassy eyes narrowed into a glare. her voice was raspy, almost pitiful, but her bratty attitude remained intact. “shut up and make yourself useful.”

y/n exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose. “so bossy even when you’re practically on your deathbed.” she set down a tray on the bedside table, pushing a bowl of steaming porridge toward jimin. “eat this.”

jimin wrinkled her nose, shifting further into her blankets like a petulant child. “no.”

y/n’s eye twitched. “yes.”

“don’t want to.”

“jimin, you’re literally sick.”

“so? i don’t like porridge.”

y/n clenched her jaw, inhaling slowly as if it would give her the patience not to smack the stubbornness out of this woman. after a moment of internal struggle, she scoffed and threw her hands up. “fine. starve, then.”

she spun on her heel, making her way toward the door. she wasn’t going to coddle someone who refused to help themselves—jimin could sit in her self-inflicted misery all she wanted. but just as y/n reached for the doorknob—

“wait.”

y/n paused, glancing over her shoulder. jimin wasn’t looking at her directly, her fingers fiddling weakly with the edge of the blanket. her voice was smaller this time, almost hesitant. “where’s princess?”

of course. leave it to jimin to refuse basic human nourishment but demand to see her cat. y/n sighed, but she left without protest, heading toward the living room. sure enough, princess was curled up on the couch, a tiny bundle of fur nestled into one of jimin’s designer pillows. the kitten barely stirred as y/n scooped her up, her soft little body warm against y/n’s palm.

when y/n returned to the bedroom, jimin was watching her expectantly, her expression softening the moment she saw princess in y/n’s arms.

“here,” y/n muttered, setting the kitten down gently on the bed.

princess blinked sleepily before stretching her tiny paws, letting out a delicate meow as she toddled over to jimin’s side. jimin immediately reached for her, stroking her fur with weak but affectionate fingers.

a small, satisfied smile graced jimin’s lips as princess nuzzled against her chin. “at least someone still loves me.”

y/n rolled her eyes, arms crossing over her chest. “you’re impossible.”

princess purred, rubbing her cheek against jimin before curling up into a tiny ball beside her. jimin let out a contented sigh, her body visibly relaxing as she snuggled into the blankets. but just when y/n thought she could finally leave—

“this is nice,” jimin murmured, peeking up at y/n. “all that’s missing is—”

she patted the empty space beside her, her meaning very clear.

y/n blinked. “oh, no. absolutely not.”

jimin pouted, her bottom lip sticking out in a way that would’ve been cute if y/n wasn’t so tired of her antics. “y/n, i’m cold.”

y/n deadpanned. “you have five blankets.”

“and yet, i’m still freezing.” jimin’s voice was thick with faux suffering, her lashes fluttering dramatically.

“what do you want me to do? magically turn into a human heater?”

jimin didn’t answer—just kept staring at her with those expectant, slightly fevered eyes.

y/n exhaled through her nose, already regretting what she knew was about to happen. “seriously?”

jimin didn’t blink.

there was a long moment of silence, a battle of wills that, to y/n’s dismay, ended in her eventual sigh of defeat. “fine.”

grumbling under her breath, she kicked off her slippers and crawled into bed, slipping beneath the covers with a reluctant sigh. the second she was within reach, jimin latched onto her like a heat-seeking missile, tangling their limbs together as she buried her face into y/n’s collarbone.

“you’re warm,” she hummed, sighing in satisfaction.

“if you get me sick, i swear—”

“shhh,” jimin hushed, her breath tickling y/n’s skin. “let me enjoy this.”

princess let out a tiny yawn, stretching out her paws before snuggling further between them, her warmth adding to the cocoon of coziness surrounding them.

jimin sighed again, a lazy smirk creeping onto her lips. “we should do this every night now.”

y/n scoffed, shifting slightly but making no real effort to pull away. “not happening.”

“we’ll see,” jimin murmured, already halfway to sleep.

y/n rolled her eyes, but as she felt jimin’s breathing even out and princess’s soft purring vibrating between them, she figured… maybe this wasn’t too bad.

[shokopan]

HAIKYUU BOYS AS COLLEGE CRUSHES PT 1 - FLOOR CRUSH | R. SUNA

⤷ inspired by my hq boys as high school crushes post i wrote a looong time ago but this time i'm writing longer ish drabbles :D

“hey,” an unfamiliar voice startles you momentarily before you glance up and see the cute guy on your floor peaking a little too conspicuously at your phone, “i like that band too,”

you’ve seen him around pretty frequently, almost guaranteed 2-3 times daily, whether it be going to and from classes, at the dining hall, at the campus library, or just on the floor of your dorm. you want to say that it’s his height and the fact that you guys seem to have the same routines and class schedules that makes him so recognizable, but it’s actually mostly because he’s an objectively good looking guy. the guy’s got slightly longer, tousled dark hair and sleepy eyes, and such a casual and relaxed style of dressing that almost irritates you because he looks so damn good with no effort. 

“no way! are you going to their concert next week?” your eyes light up, pausing your music and taking out your earbuds.

he shrugs, “i want to, but going alone sounds kind of boring,”

“same, i’ve been wanting to get tickets but i’d rather not have to get back alone at night, you know?” you hum, mirroring his shrug as the elevator you’d both been waiting for arrives.

“i mean,” suna starts as the two of you step inside, hesitating for a moment and scrunching his eyebrows together, “we could go together then? i mean we bump into each other all over campus enough that seeing each other at a concert seems pretty normal,”

“damn take me out to dinner first or something,” you joke, cracking a smile as your hand hovers over the rows of elevator buttons, “but yea i’d be pretty down, what floor?”

“first floor please, but oh thank god, i was panicking for a minute  thinking that asking you was fucking weird,” he sigh, “i’m suna rintarou by the way,”

“we see each other so many times a day, so in a way it’s like we’re not total strangers and don’t even stress, i’d probably have asked if you didn’t beat me too it,” you smile reassuringly, “and i’m l/n y/n!”

“nice to finally put a name to the person i’m haunted by,” suna grins, shrugging when you shoot him an unimpressed look. 

“i think you mean blessed, actually,” you roll your eyes as the two of you step out of the elevator when the doors open to the first floor, “anyways, are you headed to the dining hall?”

“yup,” suna nods pumping his fist unenthusiastically, “i’m starving for some mediocre slightly inedible food,”

“same,” you lament, “want to eat together?”

suna smiles and nods, not wanting to let on how long he’s been waiting for an excuse to talk to you and get to know their little campus crush, “yeah i guess, if you really insist,”

“i’m not,” you reply dryly

“i’m kidding let’s go, i want to get to know you after having seen you around everywhere and not knowing anything about you” suna chuckles, feeling a strange giddiness forming in his chest as he glances down at you/

“fine, fine, because you want to get dinner with me so badly,” you sing, smiling as you walk towards the dining hall with suna by your side, “anyways, have you ever done that 21 questions thing to get to know someone?”