#it creeped me out at first but the more I look at it the more desensitized I am to it

[littlexdeaths]

eddie munson x shy fem reader

warnings: reader is a bit insecure, little sprinkle of jealous eddie, reader wears glasses, smooching, also the finest cheese in all the land (i hope) <3

part one | part two

word count: 2.5k

a/n: this ended up bit longer than i intended so oops. but big thanks to @strangerstilinski for brainstorming some ideas with me to further cheesify the kissing scene. and another HUGE thank you to @undead-supernova for helping me with fix some things and for looking this over. I LOVE YOU BOTH <3

“What do you mean you didn’t kiss him?!”

You quickly turn to give Nancy a pointed glare before digging deeper into your locker to retrieve your biology textbook.

But really, it is a valid question.

“I— just,” you blow out an exasperated breath. “I panicked, alright? Trust me, I’m just as disappointed as you are.”

While your date didn’t end on a bad note by any means, it definitely ended on a lame one.

When Eddie dropped you off at home after the two of you spent way too much time cozying up in a corner booth at Benny’s— you weren’t entirely ready to say goodnight to him yet.

But when he walked you to your front door and carefully started to lean in, those pesky nerves got the best of you. Instead, you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek before he had the chance to reach your lips.

Feelings of disappointment clawed at your insides once your lips brushed against the stubble on his cheek instead of his lips, your tinted chapstick leaving a tinge of pink in its wake. 

Eddie cleared his throat, carefully rubbing the back of his neck while he bid you goodnight. 

You’d barely shut the door behind you when your smile faltered and all those feelings of self doubt you’d managed to push aside all night came creeping back in. 

Everything was going so well, why couldn’t you just kiss him? It wasn’t as if you’d never kissed someone before. 

Your first kiss happened your sophomore year, with band geek Ray Howard in King Steve’s coat closet during a stupid game of 7 minutes in heaven that neither of you enjoyed. 

If you were brave enough to do that, why couldn’t you kiss the guy you actually liked? 

“Well, when are you gonna see him again?” Nancy prompts. You shrug once you slam your locker shut.

“I don’t know… I’m afraid he’s not gonna want another date. I mean, I gave him a peck on the cheek! How lame is that.”

You hug your textbooks to your chest as you head to class with Nancy, who is desperately trying to convince you that Eddie would be insane if he didn’t want to see you again.

You just hoped she was right.

When you don’t see him at lunch, you instantly deflate a little. The doom and gloom that lingers outside the school now mirrors your mood, taking any semblance of your appetite with it. You hadn’t seen him all day, so that only seemed to confirm your worries.

He’s avoiding you. What else could it be?

It’s not like him to skip out on lunch, so instead of heading further into the cafeteria you turn heel to head toward the library— 

And almost collide directly into Eddie.

His leather clad arms instantly wrap around you, a teasing smirk playing on his full lips. Lips you so desperately want to feel pressed against your own.

“Sweetheart, we really gotta stop meeting like this,” he teases, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “One of these days you’ll take both of us out.”

You let out a nervous giggle and an apology, relief filling your chest as his smile grows wider in response. Damn Nancy for always being right.

“Where are you headed in such a rush anyway?” he asks, finally letting you go, much to your dismay.

“Uh… the library. Wasn’t feeling super hungry.”

He nods, leaning his shoulder against the door frame. He looks even prettier than when you saw him on Friday. His curls are a little more unruly, his stubble more pronounced. 

And when you catch the faintest hint of cigarette smoke lingering on his jacket and how it mixes with his spicy cologne— it has your heart stuttering in your chest.

“Well, anyway, I was wondering…”

A small grunt leaves his lips as his body is forced forward, directly into yours. The jock that just shoulder checked him mutters a “watch it, freaks” under his breath before continuing past you into the cafeteria.

The shove has closed the remaining distance between you, your faces merely inches apart now. Your palms resting against his chest, feeling how his breath slightly quickens beneath your fingertips. You could so easily kiss him like this, all you have to do is tilt your head up…

But you choke, eyes darting back down nervously toward your feet when you take a small step back.

“Are you alright?” you ask, meeting his eyes once more.

Eddie doesn’t even seem phased by what just occurred, his warm eyes entirely still focused on you.

“Oh, that’s nothing, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “I can handle myself.”

Eddie motions to his torso, lifting the lapels of his jacket as if to prove his point.

“See? Not even a scratch.”

And it takes all your self control to keep your eyes from wandering lower, past the soft cotton of his shirt, over the handcuff buckle of his belt…

Focus.

“Now, what I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted,” his voice raises in volume, eyes throwing a pointed glare towards the jocks table before they settle back on you. “Would you like to have lunch with me?”

Eddie nods towards the Hellfire table, your eyes drifting across the cafeteria. The familiar group of males are already seated at their usual spots, engaged in a heated debate over something.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Eddie can sense your hesitation, shaking his head as he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“I promise they don’t bite.” He grins, beginning to lead you toward the lunch table. “Can’t say the same for me though.”

He whispers that last part, his lips playfully grazing over the shell of your ear. Eddie can feel how you shiver in response, thoroughly satisfied with himself as you try to compose yourself once you reach his friends.

The guys barely spare either of you a passing glance, still deep in their conversation when Eddie pulls up a chair for you. Right at the head of the table next to his own.

You take a seat with a polite smile, each of the members of Hellfire now noticing your presence. And they can’t hide their utter shock and surprise as Eddie takes his seat beside you. He introduces you properly, going along the table until he reaches the two youngest members of Hellfire.

“While we haven’t been able to coax Sinclair back from the dark side,” he sighs, resting his arm on the back of your chair. “You obviously know Wheeler and Henderson already…”

“Oh, Mike knows her alright,” Dustin interjects, mischievously glancing over at his best friend. “He used to have the biggest crush—”

Mike elbows Dustin in the side before he can even finish his sentence, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red as he hangs his head.

“Would you shut it?” he hisses, already noting the way Eddie’s gaze hardens as he tugs your chair impossibly closer to his own.

“No… Henderson, please continue.”

A brow quirks up from underneath his bangs, and suddenly the whole table has gone silent, all eyes on their fearless leader.

Dustin nervously swallows, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “It was… really stupid kid stuff, not important! Just forget I even brought it up. It was just a dumb— ”

The younger male’s voice raises an octave when he laughs, his nerves shining through.

“— right, just a dumb little crush,” Mike finishes, but Eddie doesn’t seem entirely convinced.

When you suddenly rest your hand on his knee under the table, his composure begins to slip. His eyes soften when he looks down at you. The whole table is practically holding their breath, in anticipation for Eddie’s next move.

But you beat him to it.

“Someone had to be the president of my fan club, right?” you giggle.

Mike just groans in response, head falling to the table while the other guys begin to chatter amongst themselves again, that underlying tension now beginning to melt. Much like you are under the weight of his gaze.

“Well, I’d gladly take over that position, if you’d have me.”

Your breath hitches at the underlying meaning behind his words, and, god, you’ve never wanted to kiss him more than you do right now.

When Eddie slowly begins to lean in, Dustin practically gags, the chiming of the lunch bell stopping everything in its tracks.

“Saved by the bell,” he mutters under his breath.

The brunette unwillingly rises to his feet and reaches out a hand for you to take, keeping you closely tucked into his side while he walks you to your next class.

Your mind was racing the rest of the afternoon, impatiently watching the hand on the clock tick by ever so slowly— desperately waiting for the final bell to ring.

After Eddie had walked you to history, he planted a playful kiss to the back of your hand. Giving you a dramatic bow before heading in the opposite direction toward Ms. O’Donnell’s classroom. 

You were a fumbling mess once when you took your seat next to Nancy, and you could tell by the look on her face that she wanted to know everything.

So you spilled the beans during your walk to English afterwards, a plan beginning to form in your head with each step closer to Ms. O’Donnell’s.

Three failed kissing attempts was all your poor heart could take, so you spent the entirety of the last period plotting how you’d be able to get Eddie alone.

Which was how you found yourself pacing back and forth on the football field, eyes scanning the trees for any possible signs of movement. The palms of your hands are sweaty despite the crisp air, the fabric of your sneakers dampening with each step you take through the wet grass.

And you’re wondering if maybe this was a stupid idea, that maybe you heard Jeff wrong.

You knew Eddie dealt weed, the whole school did. But having never dabbled with the leafy substance yourself, you weren’t exactly sure where he made his deals at. So it was a stroke of luck when you overheard Jeff mention it in passing to Grant during English.

Something about how he was going to be late for rehearsal because some jock wanted to buy a bunch of reefer behind the football field. And who was Eddie to refuse a good sale? Especially when the douche was offering him a lot of money.

You’re abruptly broken out of your thoughts when you finally see his lanky figure emerging from the tree line and your heart kicks into first gear— about ready to burst out of your chest with each step he takes towards you.

His curls are a little damp from the mist hanging in the air, that signature dimple indenting his cheek when a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

And despite your nerves, it’s a welcomed sight.

“Well, I didn’t take you for a stoner, sweetheart,” he begins.

But you don’t give him the chance to give you a proper greeting before you’re springing into action. Your fingers curl into the collar of his denim vest, meeting him halfway as you lean up to press your lips to his…

Only to end up knocking your heads together instead.

A small grunt of pain leaves him and your stomach twists in embarrassment, fingers gently pressing against your forehead as you wince.

“Oh my god, I am so—”

Those words barely have a chance to slip past your lips before he tilts your chin up and carefully molds his mouth over yours. His movements are slow but steady, as if gauging your response.

Your body reacts before your mind can fully process what’s happening, instinctively reeling him in closer and pressing your lips more firmly against his own. He hums softly, the sound setting your whole body alight.

As Eddie slips one of his hands around your waist, the other reaches up to tenderly cup your cheek. And when he begins to guide you backwards, you let him. Only stopping once your back is flush against the goal post. But even then, he doesn’t stop kissing you.

You can feel the cool metal seeping through the thin layer of your jacket, causing goosebumps to rise on the surface of your skin. But even with the cool air continuing to nip at your exposed skin, you feel like you’re on fire.

His lips are like molten honey, sugary sweet and practically melting you to your core. And you swear this is the closest to heaven you’ve ever felt.

When he eventually pulls away and you take a shuddering breath in, your eyes remain closed. You’re practically on cloud nine, basking in the lingering tingles that prickle over your lips. His hand remains on your cheek, thumb brushing over where his lips just were.

Eddie suddenly lets out a deep chuckle, the sound vibrating against your chest while his breath washes over the apples of your cheeks. Only then do your eyes flutter open and you realize the reason behind his amusement.

Your vision is completely obscured, the round lenses of your glasses fogged over from the heat of his breath. You can just barely make out his smile through the frames, but the silliness of the moment has you letting out a giggle of your own.

“May I?” he asks, the tips of his fingers grazing over where the arms of your glasses meet your temples.

You nod immediately, allowing him to remove them with the utmost care. He untucks his Judas Priest t-shirt from his jeans, using the soft cotton to clear the fog away from your lenses. Even with your blurred vision, you manage to catch a glimpse of his tummy before it’s hidden away beneath his shirt again.

When his eyes flick up to meet yours, he can’t help but feel like he’s really seeing you for the first time. Not hidden away behind a book or the thick wire frames of your glasses. Just you, in all your unbridled beauty.

“Thank you,” you murmur as he carefully places your glasses back onto the bridge of your nose.

Eddie just grins, leaning his forearm on the goal post above your head. He smells faintly like weed and peppermint gum, and you really want him to kiss you again.

“How’s about I give you a ride home, hm?”

You can’t hide your smile, nodding your head enthusiastically.

“I’d really like that.”

Eddie leans down to press one more searing kiss to your lips before he slips his hand in yours and pulls you along. The two of you now walking hand in hand across the football field.

“So, sounds like I’ve got some competition with Wheeler, huh?” he teases, squeezing your hand a little tighter in his.

“Oh come on, you’ve never had a crush on a babysitter before?”

Eddie takes a step in front of you, beginning to walk backwards while simultaneously guiding you forward.

“Well… considering my only babysitter was starting to bald and my uncle,” he practically shudders, “I’m gonna say no, sweetheart.”

series taglist: @sheneedsrocknroll92 @blckbrrybasket @your-nightmaredoll @missmarch-99 @fandom-princess-forevermore @mylovelycrazyworld @princesssunderworld

[julietsf1]

Best Day Ever - Franco Colapinto x Reader

Summary: Oscar's win and Franco's first points have to be celebrated. With her best friend Lando playing matchmaker and the tension between Y/N and Franco simmering, the night promises to be anything but ordinary. Sparks fly on the dance floor, but is Y/N ready to admit what’s really going on?

Warnings: Questionable fashion choices from Charles, Jealous Franco

A N - okay so I never write but I couldn't help myself. another one lol. I adore this man, I really hope he'll get a seat next year:)

_______________________

I slipped into Lando’s hotel room, dodging the chaos of clothes strewn everywhere and the blast of upbeat music. As expected, the room was a disaster—a tornado of outfits scattered around, and Lando stood in front of the mirror with two shirts, looking deeply conflicted.

“You’re taking this way too seriously,” I teased, dropping my bag on the bed and watching him as he inspected each shirt like it was a life-or-death decision.

Lando turned, giving me a dramatic sigh. “You don’t get it, darling. As tonight’s DJ, I need to look the part. No one’s gonna take me seriously behind the decks if I look like shit.”

I raised an eyebrow, amused. “Yes, because that’s exactly why people come to the club... for your shirt.”

He dramatically held up the two options for me to judge. “So? Bright white to make my tan pop? Or black for mysterious, sexy DJ vibes?”

I chuckled, shaking my head as I pulled out my dress. “The real question is, how long until you spill something on it?” I shot back with a grin.

Lando grinned right back at me, tossing the white shirt aside. “Good point. But now, your turn. What are we working with tonight, Y/N?”

I unzipped my bag and pulled out the stunning red dress I’d been waiting to wear. It was the kind of dress that would turn heads the second I walked into the club. Lando’s eyes widened dramatically when he saw it.

“Well, well, well,” he drawled, stepping closer to inspect the dress as if it were a priceless artifact. “What’s the occasion? Trying to murder Franco tonight or what? Because if I were him, I’d be dead on the spot.”

Rolling my eyes, I ignored the blush creeping up my cheeks. “It’s not for him. I just like looking good. Is that a crime?”

“Oh no, not at all,” Lando said, smirking. “But let’s be frank. Or should I say ‘frank-o’? Get it?”

I rolled my eyes again, groaning at his pun. Classic Lando.

Lando sighed dramatically at my lack of enthusiasm but pressed on. “Anyway, you’ve been on Franco’s mind all weekend. The way he’s been sneaking glances at you? Totally adorable.”

I slipped behind the dressing screen to change. “Franco sneaks glances at every girl. It’s his thing.”

“Ah, but here’s the kicker,” Lando leaned against the screen like he was sharing the world’s best-kept secret. “You’re the only one who acts like you don’t care. He finds it irresistible.”

I emerged from behind the screen, giving Lando a look. “I’m not here for his ego trip. I’m here to celebrate Oscar’s win. Now help me zip up, please.”

Lando smirked, walking over to help with the zipper. His fingers brushed lightly against my back, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Sure. That’s why you wore that dress. Totally not because of Franco.”

“Do you ever shut up?” I teased, adjusting the straps of my dress as I looked in the mirror. The reflection staring back at me was more confident than I felt. The dress hugged my figure in all the right places, making me feel bold despite the nerves bubbling in my chest.

Lando chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he grabbed his black shirt and pulled it over his head. “Just trying to help. You’ve got something going on with Franco, and I—your devilishly handsome sidekick—am here to make sure it happens.”

“There’s nothing going on,” I insisted, straightening the hem of my dress. “It’s just banter.”

Lando gave me a playful wink. “Uh-huh. Whatever you say. But tonight, when he sees you in that dress, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Man’s going to be speechless.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re in denial,” he shot back. “Now, let’s get going. The club’s not going to know what hit it.”

I grabbed my purse, shaking my head with a smile as we headed for the door. No matter how much Lando teased, there was something about his playful energy that always put me at ease. He knew how to turn any situation into a joke, and even if I wasn’t ready to admit it out loud, the thought of Franco seeing me tonight had me feeling a little more excited than I should’ve been.

“Ready to knock ‘em dead?” Lando asked as we reached the elevator.

I smirked. “Let’s dance, baby.”

Lando grinned, pressing the button for the lobby. 

.

The second we stepped into the club, I could feel the shift in energy. The bass was pounding through the floor, neon lights flickering in rhythm with the music, and a sea of people already swaying to the beat. It was one of those nights where you could tell things were only going to get wilder as the hours passed.

Lando, naturally, was beaming as he led us toward our reserved table, his usual confidence on full display. “This is going to be legendary,” he grinned, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “You ready to make some memories?”

I smirked, adjusting the strap of my dress. “If by memories, you mean watching you make a fool of yourself on the dance floor, then absolutely.”

Lando wiggled his eyebrows mischievously. “Just wait until I start playing some tracks. You won’t know what hit you.”

As we approached the table, George was already making himself comfortable, adjusting his collar like the proper gentleman he always tried to be, while Alex slid in beside him, looking equally ready to unwind after the weekend.

“This place,” George mused, his eyes scanning the scene, “positively buzzes. I might even have to loosen a few buttons tonight, fellas.”

Alex laughed, giving him a playful nudge. “Oh no, George Russell, loosing up? What is the world coming to?”

Before George could respond with one of his comebacks, the door to the club swung open, and in walked Max, Daniel, and Charles—each of them making an entrance like they owned the place. Max, already sipping on a gin tonic, had that relaxed grin he only ever showed when he was off-track, while Daniel was bouncing with energy as usual, ready to bring chaos. Charles, however, had topped them all, not only wearing his patchwork pants, but also sporting a pair of ridiculous neon pink sunglasses that instantly made me burst out laughing.

Lando, seeing Charles in all his glory, was quick to point out the obvious. “Alright, who let Charles dress himself? Where is Alexandra when we need her?”

Charles just grinned, pushing the sunglasses further up his nose. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Norris.”

Daniel, never one to miss a beat, clapped me on the back as he slid into the booth next to me. “Looking hot tonight, Y/N. I’m pretty sure jaws will drop.”

I rolled my eyes, trying not to blush. “It’s just a dress, Daniel. Let’s focus on the real star of the night—Oscar.”

Oscar, ever the quiet one, gave me a sheepish smile from across the table. “Can we not make a big deal out of this?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Lando interjected, throwing an arm around Oscar. “You’re the man of the hour! We’re celebrating you tonight, mate. And Franco when he shows up of course.”

Max, already in full party mode, flagged down a waiter with a confident wave. “Gin tonics all around—and something stronger for Oscar. What do you say?”

Oscar chuckled awkwardly as Daniel threw an arm around his shoulders, laughing. “Yeah, mate. Time to get wild.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as Max and Daniel continued to heap praise on Oscar, who was clearly not loving being the center of attention.

“He needs more than one drink for that,” I said, leaning back with a grin. “Oscar’s more the ‘quiet observer’ type.”

“That’s exactly what makes it more fun,” Lando added, his grin widening. “He’s like a ticking time bomb. You never know when he’s going to blow.”

Just then, the drinks arrived. Daniel raised his glass, holding it high for the group. “To my favorite fellow Aussie,” he declared, causing Oscar to smile awkwardly as Daniel continued, “And to a night we’re definitely not going to remember.”

“Cheers!” we all echoed, clinking glasses.

Max wasted no time, clapping Oscar on the back. “No sitting tonight, mate. Come on, time to dance.”

Oscar looked wide-eyed for a moment before Max and Daniel each grabbed one of his arms, dragging him onto the dance floor. He glanced back at us with a look that screamed help me.

I laughed as I watched Oscar get pulled into the chaos. “Well, there goes Oscar.”

Lando grinned, leaning in closer. “You know what Oscar needs to loosen up?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh no, not this again...”

“Tequila.” Lando’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Come on, we’ve got shots to retrieve.”

Before I could protest, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the bar, dodging people along the way. It was like Lando had some sort of radar for causing trouble, and tonight, tequila was at the center of his plans.

We reached the bar, and with a few charming words from Lando, the bartender handed over a full tray of tequila shots.

“Think this is enough?” I asked, eyeing the tray suspiciously.

Lando gave me a mock-serious look. “Not even close.”

As we carried the tray back to the table, I couldn’t stop laughing at the sight of our friends still tearing up the dance floor. Max and Daniel were already locked in some sort of ridiculous dance battle, while Charles, still sporting his horrible sunglasses, was swaying with his gin tonic in hand like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Oscar’s going to die out there,” I chuckled, shaking my head.

“Not if the tequila kicks in first,” Lando smirked, placing the tray down on the table.

Just as we settled back at the booth, the door to the club swung open once more, and in walked Carlos and Franco. Carlos, as always, looked effortlessly sexy, his dark shirt unbuttoned just enough to make every girl in the club swoon. But Franco? My heart skipped a beat when I saw him—his eyes immediately locking onto mine with that intense, playful glint that I was starting to recognize all too well.

He looked different tonight—glowing from the inside out, like the weight of proving himself had finally been lifted. The victory of his first points in F1 suited him. His confidence was always there, but now it had this newfound depth that made it impossible not to notice him.

Lando, ever the instigator, nudged me under the table, trying to hide his grin. “Look at your man, glowing,” he whispered with an exaggerated wink.

“Shut it,” I muttered, though my pulse had quickened at the sight of Franco.

As they made their way over, the group welcomed them with cheers and raised glasses. Carlos slid into the booth beside George, while Franco took the seat across from me, his eyes never leaving mine.

“You’re late,” I teased, lifting my shot glass in his direction.

Franco grinned, his gaze flickering from the glass to my dress and back to my eyes. “Fashionably late, of course. You know how it is.”

“Always with an excuse,” I shot back, though I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips.

Franco leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough for me to hear. “Maybe I just wanted to make an entrance. Catch someone’s attention.”

Under the table, Lando kicked me again, even more subtly this time, though his grin was anything but subtle. I shot him a look, trying to ignore the way my heart was racing.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” I said, keeping my tone light as I shook my head at Franco. “Nice try, though.”

Franco chuckled. “We’ll see about that.”

Lando’s face lit up, his grin widening as he picked up one of the tequila shots. “Before we do anything else, we need to make a toast.”

Alex, George, and I exchanged glances as Lando raised his shot glass high, his voice carrying over the thumping music. “To Franco, for getting his first F1 points!” he declared, eyes twinkling with excitement. “He’s officially no longer just a pretty face—he can drive, too!”

Everyone laughed, Franco shaking his head with a mock roll of his eyes, but there was no denying the pride shining in his green eyes. He raised his glass, meeting Lando’s playful grin. “Thanks, mate,” he said with a smirk, his voice carrying that familiar flirty edge as he glanced over at me. “It’s about time I caught up.”

“To Franco!” Lando repeated, and the group joined in the chorus, clinking glasses before throwing back the shots.

The tequila burned, but it wasn’t just the alcohol that made my pulse race—it was the way Franco’s eyes lingered on me

“So,” Franco began, his voice low and smooth, “do you always look this good when you go out? Or is this just for me?”

I raised an eyebrow, trying my best not to smile. “I think you’ve been hanging out with Lando too much. His cockiness is rubbing off.”

Franco chuckled softly, his eyes still fixed on mine. “Maybe. But I’m serious. You look… incredible.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t quite hide the blush creeping up my cheeks. “You say that to every girl, Franco.”

His grin widened, leaning in just enough to make my heart race. “Not like this. And not to every girl.”

It was the way he said it—calm, confident, and undeniably sincere—that made me falter. There was no denying the effect his words had on me, but I wasn’t about to let him know that.

“Nice try,” I said, taking a sip of my drink, determined to stay unbothered. “But I’m not falling for it.”

He leaned back slightly, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Who said I was trying anything? I’m just telling the truth.”

Carlos was still engrossed in conversation with Lando, leaving me to handle Franco on my own. Lando, however, didn’t miss the exchange, and I felt a not-so-subtle nudge from him under the table. “Told you,” he whispered, barely hiding his grin. “He’s got it bad.”

I shot Lando a look but couldn’t help the warmth spreading through me. Franco wasn’t making this easy.

“So, what’s the plan for the rest of the night?” I asked, trying to shift the conversation away from me.

Franco’s smile turned playful, his eyes never leaving mine. “Dance, maybe. If you’re up for it.”

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. “In your dreams, maybe.”

“Trust me, cariño,” Franco said, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down my spine, “I’ve had plenty of those already.”

I swallowed, trying to keep my composure. Franco’s flirty nature wasn’t new, but tonight, it felt different—more direct, more intentional. And the Spanish- oh my days. 

Before things could escalate further, I decided to save myself. I stood abruptly, grabbing Lando’s arm. “I need to dance,” I announced, pulling him up with me. “Come on, Norris. Let’s go.”

Lando blinked in surprise but quickly recovered, flashing Franco a smug grin. “Later, Colapinto,” he called as I dragged him toward the dance floor. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring her back soon.”

Grabbing Lando’s arm, I dragged him out of the booth and into the center of the dance floor, determined to drown out the tension with music and laughter.

“Whoa, easy there!” Lando exclaimed with a grin as I pulled him into the mass of bodies. The bass was so strong I could feel it reverberate through the floor and into my chest. Neon lights flickered over the crowd, casting everyone in shades of blue, purple, and red.

“I need to dance!” I shouted over the music, spinning him around as the beat dropped. “Get your head in the game, Norris!”

Lando, always ready for a bit of fun, didn’t miss a beat. “You’re lucky I’m the best dance partner you could ask for!” he laughed, immediately pulling me into a ridiculous salsa move that made me burst into giggles. His over-the-top style was exactly what I needed to shake off Franco’s intense gaze.

We danced together in sync for a while, Lando’s antics drawing more laughter from me than I’d had all night. He was twirling, dipping, and making exaggerated poses with every beat, reminding me how effortlessly fun it could be to just let go.

“You’re a nightmare,” I teased, dodging one of his particularly dramatic moves as he spun me around.

“And you’re loving every second of it!” Lando grinned, completely unbothered by how ridiculous he looked.

For a few blissful minutes, I allowed myself to get lost in the music. The lights, the crowd, and Lando’s contagious energy made everything else fade into the background. But no matter how hard I tried to focus on the fun, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched.

Franco.

Even with the mass of people between us, I could feel his eyes on me. I stole a glance toward the bar and, sure enough, there he was, standing with Carlos, Alex, and George, his eyes fixed on me like a magnet. The intensity in his gaze was impossible to ignore, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

“Stop staring,” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head to push the thought away. But even as I laughed it off, I couldn’t deny the way my heart sped up when I caught Franco watching.

Lando twirled me again, pulling me close to shout over the music. “Franco hasn’t stopped looking at you all night!”

I rolled my eyes, feigning indifference. “That’s just Franco being Franco. He’s like that with everyone.”

“Uh-huh, right.” Lando shot me a knowing grin. “Just with everyone? Come on, Y/N, you’re not fooling me.”

I groaned, pulling away slightly as we continued to dance. “Can we not talk about him right now? I’m trying to enjoy myself.”

“Sure, sure,” Lando laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. “But you know he’s watching, right? Might as well give him a show.”

Before I could respond, Lando grabbed my hands and twirled me into a dramatic dip, making me squeal with laughter. It was ridiculous and playful, exactly the distraction I needed. But even as I danced, I couldn’t fully shake the sensation of Franco’s gaze burning into me.

Eventually, the heat of the dance floor got to me, and I pulled Lando off to the side, fanning myself as we made our way to the bar. “I need a drink,” I muttered, wiping a bead of sweat from my forehead.

“Good call,” Lando agreed, still grinning like a madman. “But I’ve got a better idea—why don’t you get some fresh air. You look like you’re about to combust.”

I nodded, following him toward the exit. The night breeze hit me like a wave of relief, cool and refreshing against my flushed skin. I let out a long breath, leaning against the side of the building as I tried to shake off the lingering tension.

Just as I was starting to feel a bit more grounded, Oscar appeared from the shadows, looking surprisingly calm despite the chaos happening inside.

“Oscar?” I blinked, surprised to see him outside. “What are you doing out here?”

Oscar, ever the quiet observer, gave a small shrug, his usual smirk playing at the edges of his lips. “Hiding of course. Max and Daniel are going way too hard in there.”

I chuckled, nodding in agreement. “I don’t blame you. It’s getting a bit crazy. I think I just saw Max crowdsurfing with Charles’s glasses on.”

We stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the music still thumping faintly in the background. I leaned against the wall, tilting my head back to take in the stars above. It felt good to breathe, to have a moment of peace before heading back into the chaos.

But Oscar, always perceptive, wasn’t one to let things slide. “You alright?” he asked, his tone casual but laced with meaning.

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. “Yeah, just… trying to clear my head.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Franco, would it?”

I froze, my heart skipping a beat at the mention of his name. “What? No. Why would it?”

Oscar gave me a knowing look, clearly unconvinced. “Come on, Y/N. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And the way you’ve been acting tonight…”

I crossed my arms defensively, trying to brush it off. “He’s just being his usual flirty self. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Oscar leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms as well. “Doesn’t it?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words got stuck in my throat. Oscar was too good at reading people, and he wasn’t letting me get away with pretending everything was fine.

He sighed, glancing toward the club entrance. “Look, I’m not saying you have to do anything about it. But it’s pretty clear there’s something there. You can’t ignore it forever.”

I groaned, running a hand through my hair.

Oscar offered a sympathetic smile, his tone surprisingly gentle. “Love always is a bit complicated, I think. But that doesn’t mean you should run away from it.”

We fell into silence again, the weight of his words hanging in the air. I wasn’t ready to confront whatever I was feeling, not yet. But Oscar’s insight had a way of sticking with me, whether I wanted it to or not.

After a few moments, Oscar pushed off the wall and gave me a small smile. “Come on, let’s head back inside. I think Lando’s getting ready to play.”

I nodded, following him back toward the entrance. The cool air had done little to calm my racing heart, and I knew I wasn’t ready to face Franco again. But there was no avoiding it. Not tonight.

As we stepped back into the club, the music hit me like a wave, and the energy inside was even more electric than before. Lando was at the DJ booth now, a massive grin on his face as he was preparing to take over the set. The dance floor was packed, and the flashing lights made everything feel surreal.

I spotted Franco near the bar, his eyes immediately locking onto mine as I walked back inside. He didn’t look away this time. Instead, he took a slow sip from his drink, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Oscar nudged me with his elbow, smirking. “Looks like you’ve got some unfinished business.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the way my stomach flipped at the sight of Franco watching me. “Let’s just dance,” I muttered, pulling Oscar onto the dance floor.

“Y/N! Oscar! Get over here! We were starting to think you’d run off!” Carlos shouted over the music, motioning me toward him.

Without thinking, I grabbed Oscar’s hand and pulled him toward the group. The music, the lights, and the laughter of my friends wrapped around me, easing the tension built up in me earlier. Oscar, clearly reluctant, laughed softly as I spun him around in the middle of the dance floor. His awkward moves were no match for my playful swaying, but it made the moment even funnier.

“You’re a terrible dancer,” I teased him, grinning from ear to ear.

“I never claimed to be a pro,” Oscar quipped, barely able to keep up. His shy smile only made me laugh harder.

Carlos was quick to join in, pulling me away from Oscar as he swayed confidently to the rhythm. The crowd around us blurred, and soon, it was just the familiar faces of my friends. Carlos twirled me once before leaning in playfully.

“Careful, Y/N,” he teased, “I might steal you away from everyone tonight.”

I let out a laugh, shaking my head. “As if! You could try, though.”

Behind me, I could feel the heat of Franco’s gaze burning into the back of my neck. His eyes never left me. Every time Carlos spun me or made me laugh, I could sense Franco’s attention shifting, the tension in his stance growing tighter.

Carlos, always perceptive, picked up on it quickly. "Franco’s been eyeing you more than usual," he commented under his breath, smirking as he twirled me again. "What’s going on there?"

I rolled my eyes, feigning indifference. "Nothing. He’s just… being Franco."

Carlos chuckled, his grip on my waist tightening slightly as we moved in sync with the beat. "Right. Nothing. That’s why he’s looking like he wants to punch me."

I let out a huff, but the truth was, I could feel the tension between me and Franco bubbling beneath the surface. Every glance, every stolen look, felt like a promise—one I wasn’t sure I was ready to face yet.

As the song came to an end, I found myself needing a break. "I need a drink," I said, fanning myself as I pulled away from Carlos. "Anyone else?"

Carlos grinned, giving me a playful wink. "I’m good. Say hi to your lover boy from me please."

I laughed, waving him off as I made my way towards the bar. The crowd parted slightly as I moved, and for a moment, I allowed myself to breathe, to reset. But I wasn’t alone for long.

Before I could even order my drink, Franco was there, sliding up beside me with an ease that made my heart skip a beat. His presence was overwhelming, his green eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made the noise of the club fade into the background.

"You and Carlos seem to be getting along pretty well," Franco commented, his tone casual but laced with something darker—something that sent a thrill down my spine.

I raised an eyebrow, turning to face him fully. "What’s it to you?" I asked, my voice light but teasing. I wasn’t going to make this easy for him.

Franco stepped closer, his body brushing against mine as he leaned in. "Just making sure you’re not getting too comfortable with the wrong guy," he said, his voice low, almost possessive.

A smirk tugged at the corners of my lips. "Jealous?" I teased, leaning into the challenge. His proximity was intoxicating, and it took everything in me not to show just how much he was affecting me.

Franco’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t step back. If anything, he moved closer, his gaze dark and unreadable. "Maybe," he murmured, his eyes flicking down to my lips before meeting my gaze again. "But you already knew that."

The air between us was charged, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. I could feel the heat of his body against mine, the way his hand hovered near my waist as if he was waiting for permission to touch me.

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Lando’s voice cut through the air, announcing that he was about to take over the set. 

The music changed in an instant. The high-energy beats slowed, replaced by something smoother, more intimate. The kind of rhythm that forced people to get close—whether they wanted to or not.

Looking at the booth, I instantly made eye contact with Lando, who winked at me with the widest smirk ever. I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly what he was doing. It was his not-so-subtle attempt at playing matchmaker again, and as much as I hated to admit it, the slow, heavy beat was making it very hard to resist the magnetic pull I felt toward Franco.

"Guess Lando’s got a sense of humor," Franco murmured, closing the distance between us again, his breath brushing against my ear.

I swallowed hard. He was close—too close. The tension that had been simmering all night was now palpable, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep pretending it didn’t affect me. The smell of his cologne, the warmth of his body, I was slowly losing my mind. 

Franco didn’t wait for me to respond. His hand found the small of my back, pulling me gently towards him. "Dance with me? Please." His voice was low, almost a whisper, and the sincerity in his eyes caught me off guard. This wasn’t the usual playful Franco I was used to—the one who flirted just for the sake of it. There was something deeper in his gaze, something real.

I hesitated for a moment, trying to catch my breath. "Franco…"

He leaned in, his lips hovering near my ear. "I’m not playing games tonight, Y/N," he whispered, his tone soft but firm. "This isn’t just me messing around."

I looked up at him, my heart skipping a beat at the vulnerability in his eyes. He was being sincere. This wasn’t the usual charm or smooth lines he used with everyone else—this was real. And it scared me.

"I…" I started, but the words caught in my throat. I didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know if I could trust what I was feeling.

Franco’s hand slid from my back to my waist, pulling me even closer until there was no space left between us. His breath was warm against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. "Just dance with me," he whispered again, his lips brushing my ear.

The music pulsed around us, slow and steady, and before I could think better of it, I nodded, slowly letting my guard down and giving in to the moment. Franco’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile, and he guided me onto the dance floor, our bodies moving in sync with the beat.

For a few moments, we just swayed together, the tension between us crackling in the air. Every touch, every brush of his hand against my skin, sent electricity shooting through me. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek, the steady thump of his heart against mine as we moved together.

"You know," Franco murmured, his voice a little rougher now, "I wasn’t lying earlier. About you."

I looked up at him, trying to keep my voice steady. "What do you mean?"

His green eyes met mine, filled with something I couldn’t quite place. "I know I make a lot of flirty jokes. With everyone. But with you? It’s different."

I blinked, the honesty in his words taking me by surprise. I opened my mouth to respond, but he wasn’t finished.

"I don’t want you to think I’m just… playing around. This isn’t just some game to me." His hand tightened slightly on my waist, pulling me closer. "You are special to me. I just… I want you to be mine. Just mine."

My heart was pounding in my chest, the world around us fading into the background. His words hung in the air between us, and for the first time, I didn’t know what to say.

Before I could respond, Franco’s hand slid from my waist to my lower back, his fingers brushing against the bare skin exposed by my dress. "I don’t like sharing you," he added, his voice low and filled with something darker, something possessive.

A shiver ran down my spine at the intensity of his words. My heart skipped a beat, my breath catching in my throat as I looked up at him, our faces inches apart.

"Who said you had to?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the music.

Franco didn’t wait for permission. In one swift motion, he closed the gap between us, his lips crashing against mine in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

It was like all the tension that had been building between us finally exploded in that one moment. His hands cupped my face, holding me close as his lips moved against mine with a desperation that matched my own. I responded with equal intensity, my hands threading through his hair as I pressed myself closer to him.

The world around us ceased to exist. The music, the crowd, the lights—it all faded into nothing as I lost myself in the kiss. His lips were soft but demanding, and every brush of his fingers against my skin sent a jolt of electricity through me.

He pulled me even closer, his hands sliding down my back, and I could feel the steady beat of his heart against my chest. My own pulse was racing, my thoughts spinning out of control as we stumbled slightly, moving toward the edge of the dance floor.

Franco’s back hit the wall, and he pulled me against him, his hands still gripping my waist as we kissed with a fervor I hadn’t known existed. His tongue brushed against mine, and I let out a soft gasp, my fingers tightening in his hair as I pressed my body against his.

When we finally pulled apart, both of us were breathless, our foreheads resting against each other. Franco’s green eyes were dark with desire, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he looked down at me.

"I’ve wanted to do that for so long," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

I smiled, my fingers still tangled in his hair. "You’re not the only one," I whispered back, my heart racing.

Franco chuckled softly, his hands still resting on my waist as he looked down at me with a mix of affection and desire. "I’m never letting you go now, hermosa."

The way he said it made my heart flutter, and without thinking, I leaned in for another kiss. This one was slower, more tender, but just as intense. We stayed like that for what felt like forever, lost in our own little world, oblivious to the party happening around us.

Finally, Franco pulled back, his eyes searching mine. "Let’s get out of here," he murmured, his voice still rough with emotion.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Together, we slipped away from the dance floor, unnoticed by the rest of the party as we made our way outside.

The club’s energy still buzzed in my veins as Franco and I stepped outside, the cool night air a stark contrast to the heat of the dance floor. He tugged me toward the beach, the soft sound of waves pulling us further away from the noise inside. The moonlight reflected off the water, casting the Baku coast in a beautiful gentle silver glow. I couldn’t help but smile at the shift in atmosphere, from the wild club scene to the quiet, intimate stillness of the beach.

Franco was glowing, that much was obvious. He hadn’t stopped smiling since we left the club. And I knew it wasn’t just the thrill of dancing. Scoring his first F1 points today had him on cloud nine, and it was infectious. I felt it, too—his joy, his excitement—it made him even more attractive, if that was possible.

“You’re really not tired?” I teased, bumping his shoulder lightly as we strolled along the sand. “It’s been a pretty big day for you.”

He turned to me, his green eyes sparkling under the moonlight. “Are you kidding? Best day of my life.”

I laughed softly, stopping to let the waves lap at my feet. “The points are a big deal, Colapinto. You’re a proper driver now.”

Franco chuckled, but when he looked at me, his expression softened. “Yeah, but it’s not just the points. Today… everything about it just feels right.”

I raised an eyebrow, playfully tilting my head. “Oh yeah? What’s so special about it?”

His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I could see past all the flirting and teasing to something deeper. “You,” he said simply, stepping closer. “This.”

I blinked, my heart stumbling over itself at the sincerity in his voice. “Oh stop it…”

“I’m serious,” he interrupted gently, his voice dropping lower. “Today was incredible. But I’ve been wanting this moment with you for a while. And tonight… it’s just perfect.”

There it was again—that raw honesty that caught me off guard. He wasn’t playing games, wasn’t teasing. He meant it.

“I didn’t think anything could top your race today,” I said quietly, unable to tear my gaze away from him.

Franco smiled, his hand finding its way to my waist, pulling me a little closer. “The points were great. But this? Being here with you? This is better.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine, and before I knew it, we were kissing again. But this time, it was slower, more deliberate. The heat from earlier gave way to something softer, something that made my heart ache in the best way possible.

When we finally pulled back, I rested my forehead against his, still catching my breath. “Guess today really was your day, huh?”

Franco chuckled, his hand gently brushing my hair back. “Yeah. And it’s not over yet.”

[lilacgaby]

title: gala gone wrong?

pairing: prohero!bakugo x prohero!reader

katsuki was suddenly forced to confront his feelings for you, when you were put in the date auction for charity.

the heroes gala was something katsuki wouldn't look forward to normally. but this year he had a plan. he was going to ask you to be his date.

...originally. he chickened out last minute and owed kirishima 1000 dollars.

he was surprised to see you come alone though, opting to sit next to him which made him fist pump internally. you were a very successful hero who also doubled as a model. for what reason you ask?

none really, you just did it cause days off of hero work were boring. walking runways, topping charts, and beating villains with style was just another day for you.

you looked especially gorgeous this evening though, working with another up and coming designer to design a dress that perfectly complimented everything from your skin color, to you hair, to even references of your quirk.

katsuki suddenly felt underdressed in his suit, but to be fair every hero who was a man was dressed in a suit. except for monoma.

the auction portion of the gala started before the awards were to be given out.

the awards were pretty pointless in katsuki's mind. the only ones that mattered to him were the final rankings of popularity, efficiency, and the overall category.

"you nervous?" you whispered, talking over the first few lower ranked hero's to be auctioned for a date.

"nah, i know i won at least in popularity." he said, trying to keep eye contact with you without stuttering.

"hmm. what if i won? huh?"

"shut up."

she put a hand over her mouth, when suddenly-

"and the last date to be auctioned, a night with the top ranked woman hero [name]!"

"huh? oh that's me!" you said, collecting your dress as you walked to the stage, leaving katsuki blinking in confusion to himself.

you were in this? i mean it shouldn't have been a surprise, you had a rabidly loyal fan base, even since U-A. but what was he supposed to do? bid?

"the bid starts at.. 15,000 dollars." you rolled your eyes and gestured for people to go higher, and they did.

"17,000!"

"20,000!"

"30,000"

numbers were being shouted from all around the room, with the highest bids barely even being able to be tracked. the bids ranged from new heroes who definetly could not afford you, to old men who you really wish couldn't afford you.

you covered your mouth as you let a laugh escape you, this was hilarious to you, you'd have to do this more often.

after a bunch of back and forth, one booming voice cut all the others off.

"500,000 dollars. cash." to your surprise it wasn't an old creep. grand, also known as shindo yo, had suddenly bid. just as they were about to call off the auction and announce shindo the winner,

katsuki's internal dialogue won and 'forced' him to bid too. "750,000 dollars." he declared.

he doesn't think he'd have done it had it been any other idiot who wanted a chance with you, but that loser had to go.

"sold! to dynamite! we've broken a record here folks, 750,000 for the charity of --"

the words faded into the background as he looked up at you, smiling and walking over to him. he felt is heart speed up, his hands drown in sweat, his hair puff out.

"if you wanted to take me out you could've just asked katsuki." you joked, taking him by the hand as you pulled him back to the table towards the back you two were settled in on.

"whatever, now we have an excuse to."

"don't tell me you like me or something katsuki? how embarrassing."

"i told you shut it."

she laughed and settled down, poking him on the cheek. "its okay if you do, i like you quite a lot dynamite."

he flushed red at that, tiny explosions being let out from his hands inadvertently because of how caught off guard he was.

she held his hand under the table, before looking straight ahead to the ceremonies going on in front of them. he smiled and leaned back.

the awards were pretty boring when compared to the view of you, so until they had gotten to the cool stuff he just eyed you.. daydreaming about the life you'll have together someday.

he focused again when the top three heroes in popularity, efficiency, and overall were to be announced by all might.

at the end of the night, not only did he leave with a number one trophy with 'popular vote!' embedded in its side and an all-might signature at the bottom,

he also left with a lipstick mark from you right on his cheek, some flowers, and a small note that read 'see you tomorrow :)'.

[agender-wolfie]

Imagine Kid meeting his future partner by being too rowdy and knocking over their art stand or something by accident (being himself) but instead of apologizing, he blames them. Stating that they shouldn’t have been in the way in the first place. And instead of backing down and being a meek little mouse like he expects you to be,you tear into him.

“You listen to me you giant red fuck! I don’t work my ass off, pouring blood, sweat and tears into my work just so wild ass fuckos like you can come in here and tear shit up! You’re either going to clean this up and pay for the damages, or I’m gonna beat your ass!!”

The whole crew was stunned, everyone that didn’t run away in fear of an altercation was stunned, but most of all, Kid was stunned. As soon as you called him a “giant red fuck” his smirk dropped and his mouth hung open while a steady red creeped up his neck and face. The fact that you had the gall to stand up to him in the first place was one thing, but your fiery spirit and your overall passion in the face of a feared pirate is what had his heart thumping and pants becoming a bit tight.

Killer, who had moved close just in case he needed to step in and prevent more trouble, had seen the absolute love struck look on his captains face and let out an amused huff, knowing Kid had finally met his match.

[shariasweet]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ long hours

enha.hyung.line 𝒙 f.reader | this piece of fiction contains suggestive content ⟡ STILL mdni.

wc ::: around 0.3k per member sharinote ::: a little something until I can wrap up my jakehoon fics :p

after a tolling day of work you come home to your sweet boyfriend who spoils you rotten — soothing the symptoms of your long hours.

l.heeseung

heeseung noticed the way you'd lazily kicked off your shoes as you stumbled into your bedroom.

'y/n..?' he called your name from the living room and as expected , there was no reply. your boyfriend didn't bother calling out for you again before walking into the room. 'hi , baby.' he cooed with a gentle smile etched onto his lips.

'hi , hee...' heeseung absorbed your facial expression: eyelids heavy and lips in a pout as you rolled over and sat up. 'long day , sweet girl?'

you nodded. 'yeah... h'can you tell?' he'd plopped down beside you on the bed , slowly inching closer. his hand came up to cup your cheek. 'you look tired.' a small peck graced your temple as heeseung kissed you... then your cheek and finally your lips.

with his hands holding your face , he deepened said kiss.

heeseung's lips molded against your own as you two moved together. you could feel the wet muscle of his tongue poking out , swiping over your bottom lip. as your tongues wound themselves up , you pushed yourself further into him.

but suddenly , he pulled away and you were left chasing his lips , frustrated.

'slow down , baby.' the male chuckled. 'breathe... there you go.' he left you with another peck on the lips. 'hee... I want more. 'need you now.' whining , you leaned into his chest with your arms flung around his neck. 'i know , I know. how about this.' he trailed off.

'i'll run us a nice bath yeah? and you can tell me all about your day while I help you... relax , hm?'

'sounds good.'

(this is the shower-sex scenario... it's such a hee thing ♡)

p.jongseong

jay squeezed you tighter as you continued to sink into his arms. 'aw... angel girl had a bad day?'

'yes.' you frowned. 'it was awful , jongie! they worked me like a dog.' groaning , you fell back into him , feeling the warmth of his shallow chuckle spread from chest to your face. 'my baby doesn't deserve that. what'd they make you do?'

his hands traveled up your back. before you could even comprehend what was happening your boyfriend had unclasped your bra and his hands were working at the knots in your back. 'i-i...'

'take your time , angel.' jay planted a firm kiss onto your forehead. his hands continued to massage the expanse of your back as he sensually kissed a long your neck. 'i did s-so much paper... work...' you melted like putty in his hands.

'is that all?' teasingly , he questioned.

you shook your head , stumbling through your words as jay kept pressing. 'i want to hear all about it , okay? that way I can make it better later. but first I got to loosen you up , right?'

whilst trying to focus on spewing out lines of words , you hardly noticed his knee creeping up between your thighs — snug against your clothed and aching clit that is.

(ends in him gently rutting his knee into your cunt until you come from the friction ♡ / thigh riding ???)

s,jaeyun

'what's wrong , princess?' jake's fingers intertwined and played with your own as he sat between your thighs. 'nothing , jae... 'm just tired.'

he frowned , hand taking your own. 'no , no... 'tell me! I want to know what's on your pretty mind.' jake groaned before diving into your lower stomach — nuzzling into your heat. 'jake!'

you playfully giggled.

'tell me.' your boyfriend suddenly glanced up. 'baby... come on!' your fingers ruffled his hair. 'nuh uh...'

jake began peppering kisses along the insides of your thighs. 'tell me.' he'd say before diving into your plush skin each time. 'tell me.' chu. 'tell me.' chu. 'tell me!' your simple answer of being tired wasn't enough for him. 'c'mon..! 'want to hear about your day.' the man nipped at your thigh — teeth softly sinking into your flesh.

'enough , enough!' you giggled. 'don't want to bore you.'

your boyfriend sprung up as if he'd seen a ghost. 'bore me!?' drama queen. he smiled before jumping on you. 'you could never bore me , sweetheart.'

'but... if it's boredom you're worried about...' that mischievous glint sparked in his eye as a cheeky grin painted his lips. 'i can find a way or two to entertain myself while you talk...' he cheesed , slowly sinking back down to level with your cunt as he eyed you.

(this ends in him eating you out while you yap about your day by the way ♡)

p.sunghoon

you quietly stood in the mirror looking at the result of your long workday. a sigh ran past your lips as you changed into your home attire — grateful to be in the comfort of you and your boyfriend's shared flat. 'hi , honey.'

sunghoon had snuck up behind you , arms snaking around your waist as you softly breathed. 'hi.' you forced a smile , glancing into his eyes from the mirror. 'are you getting ready for bed already?' he mumbled against your shoulder — gently kissing your skin. 'mhm... 'long day.'

you took note of the way his fingers knitted together lying on your tummy... that was before they moved closer and closer towards the hem of your shorts. 'can I help you?' sunghoon whispers , kissing behind your ear.

pop! he pulls the hem back , listening to it snap against your waist. 'really , baby?' lazily you smile , and he nods — allowing his hands to venture into your pants.

(where sunghoon finger-fucks you in the mirror ♡)

{ on another note } this is lazyyy :( I've been so tired and really out of it ! I hope you can still enjoy my half assed efforts hehe.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

The fight was ugly. The first fight that you and Eddie had turned from a quiet disagreement to a full blown yelling match.

Truthfully you couldn't remember what the fight was actually about. Something silly, something miniscule that turned into a big thing.

A big argument with some horrible things said; you still couldn't get Eddie's words out of your head.

"Why would this mean anything? It's just sex isn't it?" Eddie snapped and your heart broke into a million tiny pieces. Just sex. Right. Of course that's what you two were.

Truthfully you were a mess and you should have just gone straight back home after storming out of the trailer.

Eddie has tried to go after you but you were faster and ran before he could catch up with you.

Instead you bumped into a few of your friends and hitched a ride to some party that one of Jason Carver's friends were throwing. Robin noticed your tear streaked cheeks and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

She was the only one of your friends who knew about Eddie; maybe Steve as well as him and Robin were as thick as thieves. Like platonic soulmates or something.

You and Eddie got together two months ago, passing off the hook ups as just mind-blowing sex and that worked at first. That's until you begun to get to know Eddie better and the two of you spent more time together.

Eddie was easy to fall in love with. His reputation portrayed him as mean and scary, satan obsessed and someone people should stay away from.

He was none of those things, he was kind and fiercely loyal to his friends and uncle, he was passionate and badass and really it was no surprise that you fell in love with him.

At least now you know that he doesn't feel the same way, at least you found out now before it was too late and you were even more in love with him than you are now.

Maybe you could just hang with your friends and forget the words that had broken your heart tonight.

At least you hoped that was possible.

❤️

Fuck, you really should have went home. Your head was pounding, the two beers you had made you even more anxious and upset. To make matters worse Tyler Harvey wouldn't leave you alone, he had zeroed in on you from the second you had walked through the door.

As much as you tried to avoid him, he followed you around and it was beginning to give you the creeps.

He manages to corner you when you're trying to get up to the bathroom with Robin. He stinks of beer, smoke and sweat and it turns your stomach a little bit.

Leather, smoke and the hints of woods and musk were your favourite scents in the world right now and that had to do with the man you were trying not to think about.

You cringe away from Tyler but he's so drunk that he doesn't seem to notice, he moves closer to you and you instinctively step back.

"Can you move please? Robin and I need to go upstairs" you ask him but he doesn't appear to be listening.

"Aww why don't you come upstairs with me? I'll take care of you" Tyler smirks but you don't like the look in his eyes and immediately step away from him. Yeah...no thanks. Robin is at your side at once and glares at Tyler.

"Take the hint asshole. She's not interested" Robin gently guides you away but Tyler grabs your arm at the same time and you stumble, landing hard on the floor. It knocks the wind out of you and your body throbs from the contact with the floor.

Tyler scrapers from the scene without even checking to see if you're alright. Robin is cursing out Tyler and helps you up. You're sore, annoyed and just want to go home.

Steve appears out of nowhere and Robin mentions that she called Steve when you mentioned you were getting a migraine. Relief fills you, at least you could go to Steve's for a little while and try and salvage some of the night with him and Robin.

There's a tiny voice inside of you that is aching for Eddie and it's growing stronger. You dismiss the idea, you're sure that Eddie was glad to be rid of you. That thought caused a new throbbing ache in your chest and you hurried outside with Steve and Robin determined not to think about Eddie and his big brown eyes.

❤️

As soon as you're at Steve's he puts in a movie and you settle up on the couch with Robin while Steve makes snacks. Being here is soothing and you rest your head on Robin's

Steve's landline ringing breaks you out of your sleep, Steve hurries to answer it and your heart skips a beat when you realise it's Eddie.

"Yeah, yeah dude she's with me and Robin. Some shit went down at a party we were at... Oh that asshole friend of Jason was being a prick. Yeah Tyler is it? Woah calm down man, she's fine. She's just tired"

You get up which is a little tricky as the sudden movement makes your migraine feel ten times worse but you really want to speak to Eddie.

Steve passes the phone over to you and you smile a tiny bit as Eddie is still ranting about what he wants to do to Tyler.

"Eddie, I'm okay" you murmur and he stops his rant and breathes a sigh of relief.

"Sweetheart. Fuck, I've been so worried princess. I went to your house, then Family Video. I even dropped around Wheeler's house which was a shock for Mama Wheeler to see if you were there. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I was a butthead"

The ache in your chest subsides a little bit and you relax. "I'm sorry too. I'm really sorry" tears spill down your cheeks and it's cathartic to finally let them out.

"I'm going to come and pick you up Kay? I'm not going to relax until I see that you're okay. I'll see you in about ten minutes okay?"

The tension you're feeling begins to disappear and you wait for Eddie to arrive, thanking Robin and Steve for being so amazing tonight.

True to his word Eddie arrives as quickly as he says he would and gives Steve and Robin a quick nod in greeting, he immediately pulls you close to him.

His lips press against hair and he briefly talks to Steve before guiding you out the door and into his van.

You're so exhausted from the nights escapades that you're asleep instantly.

❤️

When you wake up you're in Eddie's bed, Eddie is laying beside you and reading Lord of the Rings - The Two Towers. When he realises you're awake he presses his lips to your forehead and he tucks the covers around you, cuddles up at your side and holds you close.

"I'm sorry I was such a dickhead. You have no idea how much you mean to me, you mean everything to me and I was so scared to tell you. So I lashed out and said stupid shit. Things I didn't mean"

There's something unspoken hanging in the air, a familiar tension that's been playing the two of you for a little while now.

"I thought that you were sick of me and that's why you said those things" you confess and play with a start thread on his plaid shirt.

Eddie's jaw drops and he's silent for a moment, "Princess how could you even think that? You're...shit, I've never felt this way about anyone and it's terrifying trying to think of the right words, wondering if you feel the same way" he pauses as he lets the words sink in.

He's blushing, restless and anxious as his eyes meet yours; You sit up and cup Eddie's cheek with your hand.

"How do you feel about me Eddie?" It feels pretty certain now but you'd like to make sure. You'd like to hear him say it.

"I'm in love with you princess. How can you not see that? I guess I was just scared to tell you because I'm not exactly the perfect guy am I?" He scoffs as he says this and you scowl at the way his eyes turn sad.

"I don't care about that Eddie. Who wants perfect? I don't. I think you're amazing and handsome, you're sweet and kind, a gentleman. You make my heart skip a beat when you look at me and I feel at ease and content when I'm with you" his fingers entwined with yours and he sighs.

"You know so many people think I'm a freak, normally I don't give a fuck but I do care what others think about you" you soften and press gentle kisses over his cheek, the action causes him to smile shyly and his tense body relaxes.

"Eddie I don't give a shit what anyone says or thinks. Are you going to give us up just because of some idiots who don't matter? The only people that matter in this relationship are you and me. I love you Eddie, I'm so in love with you"

He looks up at you stunned and then he kisses you fiercely, "No I'm not giving us up. I love you sweetheart so much. You're my girl and I'm not letting you go because of some dumb assholes opinion"

The two of you spend the rest of the night making up and when you're tucked up in Eddie's arms as he falls asleep, you're left with the gentle feeling of this being where you're meant to be.

This trailer, Eddie's room, his arms around you as his soft snores fill the air. The sound of the wind blowing against the windows as you're lulled to sleep.

This felt like home.

💕

I get to love you

It's the best thing that I'll ever do

I get to love you

It's a promise I'm making to you

Whatever may come, your heart I will choose

Forever I'm yours, forever I do

I get to love you, I get to love you.

I Get To Love You- Ruelle

[wolverigrl]

Request for Hugh story.

The reader gets a little jealous when Hugh has to spend some time with his ex wife and kids, so to show his girlfriend just how much he loves her. Hugh makes her romantic dinner just for them.

Jelousy

Hugh Jackman x reader

!A/N! I hope you like this requested story! <3

Warnings: jealousy, cheesy, nothing more!

Enjoy!

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

It had been a year and a half since Hugh and I had started dating. The first year had been incredible - dream-like, really. But things had changed. It started slowly, creeping in like an unwanted shadow. His work, the endless promotion for his new movie, had taken over our lives. We barely saw each other anymore. And when he wasn’t jetting across the globe for press junkets, he was here in New York - spending time with his ex-wife and their kids.

I knew it was important for him to be there for them, to maintain that family bond. And I understood that. I tried to understand it. But lately, it felt like I was always waiting. Waiting for him to come home. Waiting for some kind of sign that I still mattered.

And today? Today was the final straw.

I had seen the photos online—Hugh and Deborra-Lee with their kids, laughing, looking so perfect together. Like nothing had ever changed between them. It wasn’t rational, I knew that. He had been married to her for years, and they shared a lot of history. But no matter how hard I tried to suppress it, the jealousy kept bubbling up inside me, threatening to spill over.

So when Hugh finally walked through the door that evening, his face lit up with a tired but warm smile, I couldn’t hold back anymore.

"Had a good day?" I asked, my tone far too sharp for what was supposed to be a casual question.

He dropped his keys on the counter and looked at me, confused by the edge in my voice. "Yeah... spent the day with the kids. It was nice. What about you?"

"Great." I replied, unable to mask the bitterness. "Saw the pictures. You all looked... happy."

Hugh's brows furrowed. "What do you mean? Of course, we were happy. I was spending time with the kids- "

"And your ex-wife." I cut him off, my arms crossing defensively. "You’ve been spending a lot of time with her, haven’t you?"

He stared at me, his confusion deepening. "Y/n, she's the mother of my kids. We’re not together, you know that. You have nothing to worry about."

"I don’t?" I scoffed, shaking my head. "Because it feels like I’m the last thing on your mind these days. I’m starting to forget what it’s like to even have you around."

Hugh stepped toward me, his voice soft but firm. "That’s not fair, y/n. You know how crazy things have been with the movie, and I’m trying to be there for the kids. It’s complicated."

"Yeah, it is complicated!" I snapped, my frustration boiling over. I could feel the words tumbling out of me, unstoppable now. "I would never ask you to choose between me and them, Hugh, but I’m not asking for much. I just want to feel like I matter too."

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly exasperated but trying to stay calm. "You do matter. You know you do."

"Do I?" I shot back, my voice cracking despite my best efforts to stay composed. "Because lately, it feels like I’m just here. Waiting for you to remember I exist!"

Hugh’s expression softened, his frustration giving way to something more vulnerable. "Love, come on... it’s not like that."

But I couldn’t listen anymore. The flood of emotions was too much, and I needed space. "I need to get out of here." I muttered, grabbing my coat and heading for the door.

"Y/n, wait!" Hugh called after me, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. I just needed air, space - anything to clear my head. The door clicked shut behind me, and I found myself walking aimlessly through the streets of New York, my emotions swirling in my chest like a storm.

The crisp night air hit my face as I wandered through the city. My mind raced as I replayed the argument over and over. Why had I let it get this far? Why hadn’t I talked to him sooner, before it all exploded like this? I knew he wasn’t intentionally pushing me away, but lately, it felt like I was invisible.

After an hour of walking and stewing in my own thoughts, I realized I needed to head back. I couldn’t avoid this forever. We needed to talk - really talk. And maybe I needed to apologize for being... well, dramatic. I sighed, turning back toward the apartment, my steps slower, more thoughtful.

When I finally reached the door, I took a deep breath, expecting tension. But as I stepped inside, I was met with something completely unexpected.

The lights were dim, and there was soft music playing in the background. I slipped off my shoes and walked towards the kitchen. The smell of something delicious - my favorite dish - wafted through the air. Candles flickered gently on the dining table, which had been set for two. The entire room felt warm and inviting, a strong contrast to the storm that had been brewing between us earlier.

I stood frozen in the corridor, blinking in disbelief. Hugh emerged from the kitchen, his eyes soft and apologetic as he wiped his hands on a towel.

"Hey." he said gently, his voice carrying a tenderness that tugged at my heart. "I, uh... I made dinner. I figured we could use some time, just the two of us."

I stared at him, the earlier frustration slowly melting away. "Hugh... you didn’t have to do all this."

"Yes, I did." he said, stepping closer. His eyes searched mine, and the sincerity in them made my chest tighten. "I’ve been so caught up in everything - work, the kids - that I forgot to make time for us. And that’s not okay. You’re right."

I bit my lip, guilt washing over me. "I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I just... I was feeling- "

"I know." he interrupted softly, his hands reaching out to gently hold mine. "And I get it. I should’ve been more present with you. I never meant to make you feel like you didn’t matter because you do, more than anything."

I swallowed hard, my heart swelling as I looked up at him. The anger, the jealousy - it all felt so small now. He had always been the man who showed up, who cared, even when life got overwhelming. And right now, he was standing here, showing me exactly how much I meant to him.

"I’m sorry." I whispered, my voice trembling as I squeezed his hands.

Hugh shook his head, his thumbs brushing over my knuckles gently. "I’m sorry too. I love you, y/n. I never want you to feel like you’re anything less than my priority."

The weight of his words settled over me, soothing the ache I’d been carrying for days. I let out a shaky breath, feeling the tension between us dissolve. "I love you too." I said softly, my heart swelling with the truth of it.

He smiled, that familiar, warm smile that made me feel like everything was going to be okay. "So... how about we start over? No more fighting. Just... dinner."

I nodded, smiling despite myself. "Yeah. I’d like that."

We sat down at the table, and the moment was so simple, so intimate. Hugh had made my favorite dish - pasta with that special sauce he always made when we had date nights at home. The food was incredible, but what made it even better was the way we kept stealing glances at each other, the quiet joy in the air as we ate.

By the time we were done, my heart felt lighter. We moved to the couch, and I leaned into him as his arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. I could feel the warmth of his chest, his heartbeat steady and reassuring.

"I missed this." I whispered, resting my head against him.

Hugh pressed a kiss to the top of my head, his lips lingering there for a moment. "I missed you. I hate that I made you feel like I wasn’t here. I’ll do better, I promise."

I tilted my head up to look at him, my eyes meeting his. The tenderness in his gaze made my heart skip a beat. "You always show up when it matters, Hugh. I just... I need to know you’ll keep doing that."

"I will," he murmured, his voice low and earnest. "You’re not an afterthought, Y/N. You’re my home."

Those words wrapped around me, filling the cracks that had formed over the past few weeks. I reached up, cupping his face as I kissed him softly, pouring every bit of love and gratitude I felt into that kiss.

When we pulled away, I couldn’t help but smile. "You really went all out, huh? Cooking, candles... the whole deal."

Hugh grinned, his eyes twinkling. "Well, I figured you deserved a little romance after putting up with me."

I laughed softly, leaning in closer. "I think we both deserved it."

He tilted his head down, kissing the top of mine softly. "I don’t ever want you to doubt how much I love you. I know I’ve been distracted, but I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere."

My heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice wrapping around me like a promise. I looked up at him, meeting his gaze. "I know." I whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek. "And I love you. I just... needed to hear it."

He smiled, a lazy, boyish grin that made my stomach flutter. "Then I’ll make sure you hear it more often."

He leaned down, brushing his lips against mine, slow and sweet, like he had all the time in the world just to kiss me. It wasn’t rushed or desperate. It was full of everything - love, reassurance, and that deep, quiet connection we shared. When we finally pulled away, our foreheads rested against each other, and I could feel his breath against my lips.

We stayed wrapped up together on the couch, the warmth of his body melting away any lingering tension. His arm was draped protectively around my shoulders, pulling me close, while I rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was comforting, grounding. Every time I shifted, he pulled me in just a little tighter, like he couldn’t stand the thought of even an inch between us.

"You know." he murmured, his fingers lazily tracing circles on my arm, "I’ve missed this. Just being here with you. No noise, no schedules. Just... us."

I smiled into his chest, feeling the softness of his words settle over me like a warm blanket. "I’ve missed it too. More than I realized."

We sat there for a while longer, the quiet of the apartment settling around us. Hugh shifted slightly, pulling a blanket over us and tucking it in around my shoulders. He kissed my forehead again, lingering as though he couldn’t help himself.

"And you know." he whispered softly, his voice like velvet against the night air, "you’re my favorite part of everything. Of coming home, of my whole day. You’re it."

My heart melted. I snuggled deeper into his embrace, closing my eyes as I felt the warmth of his love surround me. "You’re my favorite too." I whispered back, feeling safe, cherished, and so completely loved.

We stayed that way, wrapped up in each other, letting the world fade away. No more jealousy, no more distance. Just us, together. And in that moment, everything felt perfect - like this was exactly where we were supposed to be.

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

I'd appreciate feedback! <3

xoxo

[edenbbarnes]

Cut Your Hair.

summary: You help Bucky cut his hair.

warnings: Comfort | Mentions PTSD & past trauma | Post!Endgame

a/n: I wasn't sure what to write first for this blog, but I can at least start with something I know and that's comfort stuff. So, here we go. I wanted to write a blurb exploring the emotions around his hair for fun. I imagine this time frame is after Endgame, you are living in his apartment in NY. I used a lot of symbolism because I love to include it in fics. Anywayy unedited, so ignore mistakes. wc: 2.3k

You returned to your apartment after a particularly fruitful grocery shopping trip, managing to get all the necessary items for your planned dinner. New York had been experiencing a notable shortage of certain food products recently, so you felt especially fortunate to have acquired all the ingredients on your list. The scarcity had made simple shopping trips feel like treasure hunts, with each found item a small victory.

As you entered the living space, your arms laden with bags full of your culinary prizes, you called out, "Bucky? I'm back!" Your voice carried a mix of excitement about your successful foraging and the slight strain of carrying multiple heavy bags. With a relieved huff, you practically dropped your burdens onto the kitchen counter, the plastic rustling as it settled. You looked forward to telling him of your success, but you hadn’t heard him reply.

The apartment remained eerily quiet in response to your call. The silence was unusual and slightly unsettling, given that Bucky was typically quick to greet you upon your return. Your brow furrowed in confusion and a hint of concern as you scanned the room, anxiety began to creep its way through your body while an assortment of negative thoughts flooded your mind. "Bucky?" you called out again, your voice tinged with a note of uncertainty.

Still, nothing.

Now you started to worry.

You cautiously maneuvered around the counter, your footsteps deliberately quiet as you navigated through the dimly lit living space. The short hallway stretched before you, leading to the bathroom and one of the bedrooms. Your heart raced with each step, the silence of the apartment amplifying every small sound. As you approached, a sliver of light caught your eye - the bathroom door was slightly ajar, a warm glow spilling out into the darkened corridor. A wave of relief washed over you, causing your tense muscles to relax ever so slightly. You exhaled deeply, your hand instinctively moving to your chest as if to calm your pounding heart.

"Bucky," you called out, your voice a mixture of relief and lingering apprehension, "Shit... you really scared me there." The words hung in the air, met only by an eerie silence. Seconds ticked by, and still, there was no response from behind the partially open door. A creeping sense of unease began to settle in the pit of your stomach as you stood there, waiting for a reply that didn't come.

"James?" Your voice quivered with concern as you gently rapped your knuckles against the door. Hesitantly, you pushed it open, the hinges creaking softly. The sight that greeted you made your heart ache in your chest. There he stood, hunched over the bathroom sink, his posture a blatant portrait of distress. His hands, knuckles white with tension, gripped the edges of the ceramic basin as if it were a lifeline. You worried his metal hand would break the fragile ceramic but it looked like he had more self control for the moment. Bucky's head hung low, curtained by the long strands of his hair that fell forward, obscuring his face from view. The absence of his shirt revealed the taut muscles of his back, adorned with long scars, each one rigid and fairly faded, but still there.

No matter what he did to try to scrap them away, they were still there.

Your eyes were drawn to his hair, the ends were jagged and uneven, as though hacked at in a moment of impulse or desperation. Littering the bottom of the sink were the casualties of this impromptu haircut: dark locks intermingled with the gleam of small fabric scissors, splayed against the white porcelain. The air hung heavy with an unspoken tension, leaving you frozen in the doorway, unsure of how to proceed.

"Bucky...what did you do?" You inquired softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Your hand moved with cautious deliberation, gently alighting on his shoulder. The moment your fingers made contact, you felt his muscles tense beneath your touch, a reflexive response to the unexpected contact. However, within seconds, the tension melted away as he seemed to recognize you.

Silence hung heavy in the air for what felt like an eternity. Bucky remained motionless, his gaze fixed downward, avoiding eye contact, but eventually he lifted his head ever so slightly. His icy eyes, brimming with an unspoken emotion, met yours in the reflection of the mirror before you. He looked so distressed, his face splotchy and flushed with an angry red, eyes were puffy and swollen from the tears had been running down his face before you came in. His bottom lip protruded slightly in a dejected pout, completing the picture of a man clearly grappling with some internal turmoil.

"What happened?" You prompted again, you kept your voice low and patient. Your words came out as a soothing murmur, not wanting to cause any distress to him, since he was clearly struggling. You felt his body tremble under your hand, your heart broke seeing him like this.

"Don't..." he began, his voice trembling with apprehension. He paused, swallowing hard as if to gather courage before continuing, "Don't be mad..." The words escaped his lips in a barely audible whisper, laden with fear. His entire demeanor spoke volumes, suggesting he was terrified of your potential reaction to something he had done or was about to reveal.

You felt your brow furrow involuntarily as you processed his words, your eyes instinctively seeking out his face once more. The fear etched across his features only deepened your concern.

"Why would I be angry?" you asked, your tone soft and reassuring. "You haven't done anything." Your words were meant to soothe, to dispel the cloud of anxiety that seemed to envelop him. However, your attempt at comfort appeared to have little effect.

He shook his head vigorously in response, the sudden movement causing several stray locks of hair to cascade from his head, pieces he had evidently cut himself - some still clinging stubbornly to his remaining hair.

"Because you cut your hair?" you asked, your voice a mixture of concern and curiosity. The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions.

He nodded weakly, sniffling to clear his nose. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes about his emotional state. You sighed softly, the sound barely audible in the quiet room. You reached up and ran your fingers through his still long, but much shorter locks, noting how they now only reached his jaw in some spots, and past his shoulders in others. The texture was different, unfamiliar from the choppy cuts he gave to his hair, clearly indicating his anger towards it.

"You've let it grow out a bit," you observed, your tone careful and neutral. Your fingers continued their soothing motion, offering comfort without words. After a moment of contemplation, you spoke again, your voice soft and reassuring. "I'm not mad, you know. It’s your body, you can do whatever you want with yourself, remember?" You paused, considering your next words carefully. "Do you want some help with it? Maybe we could style it together, find a look you really love, instead of letting you stay like this."

He remained silent for a beat, contemplating your words with a furrowed brow. The weight of his long, unkempt hair seemed to press down on him, both physically and emotionally. An overwhelming desire to rid himself of this burden consumed his thoughts. He yearned to feel the liberating sensation of shorter hair, to shed the heaviness that had settled upon him like a thick, suffocating blanket. In his mind, cutting his hair felt liberating. He had been stripped of all bodily autonomy for so long, this was something he wanted to do. For himself.

His head inclined, giving a sharp nod. "Yes...yes, please..." he replied with a soft rasp, "Cut it all."

You were certainly no professional hairdresser, but with the assistance of a few hastily searched tutorial videos on YouTube, you managed to grasp the basic concepts and techniques. The shorter hairstyle he wanted alleviated a lot of pressure you had to make it perfect, so a quick cut and shave would be easy compared to any sort of specific styling. As he settled into the chair you pulled into the bathroom, you grabbed the scissors and let out a deep breath to calm yourself.

Carefully, you began the process of trimming away at his dark, lustrous locks, cutting the long pieces away with scissors first before you'd clean it with a buzzer. Each calculated snip was made carefully, regularly checking in with him to make sure he was still doing fine. You found yourself completely engrossed in the task, paying close attention to maintain an even trim.

The freshly cut strands danced through the air for a brief moment before gently descending to the cool tile floor of the bathroom. Upon contact with the ground, the severed locks curled and twisted, creating an abstract pattern around his feet. The contrast of the dark hair against the light-colored tiles made your heart throb, the meaning behind cutting his hair away was much deeper than any outside eye could comprehend.

You didn't notice his tears at first, but as more of his hair fell away, the evidence of his emotional turmoil became undeniable. His shoulders quivered beneath the weight of his feelings, the internal struggle becoming more visible to you. You maintained your composure, focusing on the task at hand, your fingers steady as they continued to work through his locks. Dark tear trails etched paths down his cheeks, struggling with handling it all on his own.

When you finally reached for the electric clippers, the soft click as you turned them on echoed in the silence of the bathroom. He closed his eyes then, a gesture of surrender or perhaps trust, allowing you to proceed with this final, most drastic stage of the cut. The gentle vibration of the buzzer filled the air, a constant, reassuring hum that seemed to ground you both in the present moment. Bucky gave the occasional sniffle, the emotional undertones of this act filled both of you.

With a final buzz, you switched off the clippers and gently placed them in the sink. Your fingers glided through his freshly trimmed hair, feeling the soft, short strands beneath your touch. The cut was perfect - a smile played on your lips as you admired your handiwork, you were proud of yourself. "Wow..." you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, "You look just like that old photograph I have of you. It's like stepping back in time." Your words were soft and full of gentle admiration. Softly, you encouraged him to open his eyes, eager to see his reaction to his new look.

"What do you think, sergeant?" you asked, your voice tinged with anticipation as you waited for him to fully take in his reflection. As he gazed into the mirror, a profound sense of unfamiliarity washed over him. The face staring back was simultaneously familiar and foreign, he didn’t react like you expected but honestly…what did you expect? He looked disoriented and unsettled by his own reflection.

It felt so... strange, almost surreal. The sensation was akin to looking at a photograph of a long-lost relative, recognizing traces of familiarity but ultimately confronting the reality of a stranger. It felt like he were dreaming, seeing a resemblance of the man he once was - a version of himself that now seemed to belong to a distant, unreachable past.

The realization that this former self was now forever out of reach hit him with unexpected force. He knew he’d never be the person he was again, but seeing himself like this just…felt so sudden. Bucky felt the sick twinge of grief, as if he just lost a dear friend or a beloved family member, but the person he was mourning was his former self.

He had once cherished his former self, but that version of Bucky had long since vanished. HYDRA, black tendrils wrapped around him with its insidious grasp, had extinguished his essence, snuffing out his very being like a feeble, flickering ember desperately clinging to life in the face of an unforgiving winter storm.

Bucky found himself irrevocably altered. No longer was he the vibrant, spirited individual of his past, now reduced to nothing more than a charred remnant of his former self - a piece of blackened charcoal, devoid of the warmth and light that had once defined him. The flames of his identity, once burning bright with passion and purpose, had been mercilessly extinguished, leaving behind only the cold, lifeless ashes of who he used to be.

The cold consumed him, trapping him in a relentless, chilling embrace. Cryo never truly left him, the sensation continued to maintain its icy hold on him, refusing to let go. But, you...you were what he needed more than anything else in the world. You taught him what it was like to have a gentle touch, to be loved and cared for no matter what he did in his past.

You were patient.

You were loving.

You were nurturing.

You helped him throughout his long and dreary recovery, standing by his side throughout every visit to the doctor or hospital, the endless nights where he couldn’t sleep, the panic attacks that left his throat raw and eyes burning. When the days seemed darkest for him, you were there to thaw the ice that had frozen him for so long.

Winter slowly began to surrender to the bloom of spring, and you were the greatest force of nature he knew.

Bucky's voice emerged as a soft whisper after several minutes spent silently staring at his reflection in the mirror, the steady stream of tears cascading down his face had been completely unnoticed to him. You gently wiped the tears away, your thumbs tenderly brushing against his cheekbones as you dried them with care and affection.

“It’s perfect..”

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

Cover images from Pinterest.

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Invitation

Inspired by this post, I miss my precious vampire but schl work says no bg3 for me

Astarion stares at the closed tent flap in front of him, at a loss of what to do. He didn't think the argument the both of you had was that serious, but the silent treatment he was receiving right now said otherwise.

You'd stormed off in a huff, retreating into your tent and hadn't come out since, not even for Gale's cooking. That had made the others worried, and Jaheira had advised him to talk to you, but that was proving to be harder that he thought.

He pokes the flap of the tent, watching as the fabric caves beneath his fingertip and then bounces back. He knows you can see the fabric caving inwards, you're not blind, and yet he can hear no movement coming from inside the tent.

Why are so you so mad at him? It was a harmless joke, nothing more than one of his usual quips, yet you didn't react how he thought you would react. He'd rather die again than admit it but he was genuinely very concerned that this argument had broken your relationship. He didn't want to lose what the two of you had, he enjoyed it, enjoyed the moments it had given him, enjoyed the fluttering feeling in his chest it had given him.

Still, the words "I'm sorry" remain buried beneath the honeyed words he's used to saying. Apologising never meant anything good back under Cazador's thumb, and he's uncertain saying those words will do anything to quell your anger. For all he knows, you could react like Cazador, dealing pain and punishment despite his apologetic pleas, but maybe you won't. You haven't laid a hand on him yet, only giving him the silent treatment and stalking off to your tent. He continues to wait outside your tent, fiddling with his thumbs until he gathers the courage to say something.

"Darling? I know you miss me as much as I miss you. We can forget any of this happened, put it all behind us." He laughs nervously. He wants nothing more than pretend nothing happen, to erase the argument if it means you'll continue adventuring with him, continue protecting him. Still, there's no movement from the tent, no indication that you've put the argument behind. Worry gnaws away at him as the silence grows longer, but just as he is about to head back to his tent, the flap to your tent opens and you peek your head out.

His heart soars, chest fluttering with hope at the sight until you duck back into your tent, leaving him all alone outside once more. His shoulders droop and he turns away, crestfallen, but not before pawing at your tent in a last ditch attempt to grab your attention.

Your head pops out of your tent again, an annoyed look on your face. "Make up your mind about whether you want to come in or not."

Astarion blinks. "You'll have to invite me in first if you crave my company, darling."

"I don't believe I have to invite the vampire who isn't burned by sunlight and can stand in running water into my tent," you snort. "But if you sorely want an invitation, I can extend my dearest vampire Astarion Ancunin an invitation into my humble tent."

Astarion's cheeks flush, dusting them a light pink as he wordlessly ducks into your tent, settling on your bedroll out of habit. You seat yourself next to him, a good sign, and watch as he wrestles with what to say. A small smile creeps onto your face as he fumbles with his words, carefully picking them out so as to not offend you while being as genuine as possible.

"I forgive you." Your words are simple, but they cut right through.

His eyes widen, taken aback by the ease with which you say it. You smile softly, reaching for his hand but he pulls away, shaking his head.

"How…how can you forgive me so easily? What do you want from me in exchange? What can I do to earn your forgiveness?" The words tumble out of his mouth unbidden.

"Earn? After I gave it to you?" You tilt your head in confusion.

"I know forgiveness isn't freely given, but I don't understand what it is you want me to do. You don't want to sleep with me, you don't want me to serve you, so what exactly do you keep me around for? Just to pick locks? I'm confused by you and what you want from me!" Astarion nearly screams in frustration, then shrinks, anxiously babbling an apology.

He shies away as you try to move closer to him, his body trembling. His hand move to shield himself, reflexes honed over centuries of torture kicking in. You move backwards, giving him some space and he shakily looks up at you, confusion written all over his face.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Astarion. I will never hurt you, I swear." You upturn your hands, showing him that you pose no threat and he slowly relaxes.

"I…" He mumbles, picking at his nails nervously.

"It's alright, you don't have to say or do anything." You wave your hand. "Take your time."

He quietly sits there, contemplating his next move as you busy yourself with fluffing up the pillows and neatly arranging the bedroll. He silently watches you, his chest fluttering weirdly when he realises you're preparing the bedroll for him as well. This sort of affection…was a rare occurrence and even if it did occur, it was never to such a degree. Astarion lets out a sigh, and decides the best course of action is to address the argument the both of you had.

"Y/N…about the…little argument we had earlier…"

"Mmhm."

"I…want to apologise for what I said. I didn't…realise it would affect you that much." He takes a deep breath, forcing the next words out.

"I'm sorry."

You smile, reaching over to rest your hand gently on his. "I know, and I forgive you. I can't seem to bring myself to even hate you."

A laugh bubbles from your chest and you give his hand a squeeze. He squeezes back, the tension within him dissipating as you continue laughing, and soon he finds himself smiling. A fuzzy warmth envelops him and he shifts closer to you, wanting more of the warmth and light emanating from you. You tentatively wrap an arm around his waist and he leans in, indulging your need to be in physical contact with him. He lets your hand rest on his cold cheek, relishing in your gentle touches.

"Next time, invite yourself into my tent, Star." You press a chaste kiss to his lips, grinning cheekily.

"As you wish, my dear. Don't you regret saying it." He pulls you into a full kiss, hungrily devouring your lips.

"Never."

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 4

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 4

Word Count: 5946

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Notes: Oh... chapter 4 is so much fun... My favourite so far, please enjoy! Special shout-out to @jintaka-hane for showing me a fanart of Law with the cute Bepo pen! I HAD to add it to this chapter!

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil

Masterlist

|Chapter 3|

Law took you up on that promise for the second-best coffee in town, using the excuse that he had some free time and wanted to check on your father. It didn’t really matter that he barely took five minutes to assure your father was fine before you two talked for almost two hours over coffee about books. 

You also used your father as an excuse the same week, when you visited Law at the clinic saying that you weren’t sure about one of the pills he had to take, because it made him droopy and sleepy. You knew it didn’t matter and Law assured you his medication was fine but if he was uneasy about the side effects of that pill, he could take a different one - which he prescribed. And then he took you out to coffee - the best in town - and you talked for another hour before he had to get back. This time he shared a bit about his hobbies and you shared yours. 

Kaya had an insufferable dreamy look on her face when you went back to the clinic with Law because your car was parked there and you had forgotten to validate the parking ticket. You couldn’t help the creeping blush on your cheeks as she, Penguin and Shachi watched you both arrive at the clinic together, looking fresh out of a coffee date. 

Penguin and Shachi made smooching sounds at Law and you were pretty sure, based on Law’s pulsing jaw, that they would both be on the receiving end of his anger soon enough. Kaya, instead, decided to take all the fun out on you. “How was your date?”

“Not a date! Please, Kaya, validate the ticket. I need to get back to my dad.”

“Sure, sweetheart, sure. I’ll see you soon. I’m not sure the two of you can stay apart from each other until Monday.” Rolling your eyes to the back of your head, you tell her goodbye and turn to leave, but she doesn’t let you go easily. “I’ve never seen him this happy in years, honey!”

You don't turn back to her, but you can’t help the silliest grin ever from forming on your lips. 

About a month rolls by slowly. Your dad is perfectly fine now, though he’s still not allowed to lift heavy things; your part-time job has a fairly good chance of turning into a full-time one with more responsibilities and an increase in your salary; you haven’t thought about your dumb heartache in forever and…

Well you and Law keep having little coffee dates. The tension between both of you is becoming increasingly larger and much more charged. He was away for about a week at a medical conference, and you suffered from withdrawal. You both texted, but you didn’t want to bother him and he was pretty busy, being one of the main speakers - man’s a genius!

Kaya keeps pestering you about how perfect you both are for each other and now that you’ve met Usopp - her fiancé - he says the same. And the way he says it makes everything sound even more romantic and story-like than when Kaya does it. You’re confused about the way you feel about the doctor, but you can’t help the little jumps and pangs in your chest whenever you’re together. 

So today, as you stand in front of the mirror adjusting some of your cutest clothes, you can’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach. Law texted you saying he needs to speak with you urgently. You’re beyond curious as to what he means by that and your mind has already conjured about fifty different ideas of what it could be. Your anxiety is already building, making plan after plan about what he’s going to say, how you will respond and all the possible outcomes. About half of your thoughts end with you two making out. The others are terrible scenarios about complications with your father’s exams or the possibility that Law is moving to a different country. 

You’re not in control. And you hate it.

Sighing you grab your jacket and sunglasses and tell your dad you’re going out and don’t know when you’ll be back. You manage to ignore his smirk, but can’t ignore the ‘Tell Law I said hi!’ he sing-songs to you as you leave, though you never told Shanks who you were going to meet.  

Law told you to meet at Sanji’s, but when you arrive, he’s waiting by the door with two cups of coffee in his hands, and you realise he doesn’t want to hang around the café. Before you open your mouth, you have to swallow the hard lump that’s formed in your throat. A simple week of absence made the eyes grow fonder! You know that’s not the saying, but damn, the hot doctor looks even hotter now. He’s wearing his scrubs, but instead of the white doctor’s coat, he has a long black coat over them.

“Hi.” You whisper as he smirks at you, his eyes taking you in, making you realise you made the right choice of outfit.

“Hello, you look as gorgeous as ever.” You can’t hide the pink in your cheeks. It’s something you should’ve already grown accustomed to. Law always praises you, telling you how beautiful you look and what good taste you have. As if that weren’t enough, he pulls doors and chairs for you, he’s a gentleman. Though he doesn’t often show it, since, to almost everyone else, he’s just a moody, broody, stoic doctor. But he makes you feel special.

From your talks, you know he had etiquette lessons growing up with his uncles. Though he never cared for them, Law couldn’t help but absorb the lessons like a sponge. He told you that’s how he knows so many things. He just absorbs information, even useless stuff. 

And at least now, as he claims, he’s putting those etiquette lessons to good use, because you melt every time he treats you like you’re the only person in the world. And he seems to enjoy leaving you speechless in his presence.

“Thank you. So we’re walking?” You ask as Law hands you the coffee.

“Yes, I need to ask you something and I’d rather not be too exposed to do it.”

Oh? What does he want to ask you? You can’t help but make more silly little scenarios in your head and get overwhelmed by them, but then he softly nudges you with his shoulder.

“Relax. Let go. You don’t need to be in control all the time, we’ve been through this.” He smirks at you and you chuckle back at him. He can always read you so well. He’s teased about what he could do to make you surrender control to him. He’s never been too explicit and you were always too afraid to ask.

But you know what he means. He’s talking about intimate settings, where you can let him take charge. And you can’t deny that it’s an alluring thought, to just let go of being responsible, of always having to be in control, of constantly needing to know what happens next.

But is it a door you really want to open?

“You’re doing it again.” He states, deadpan, and you sigh.

“I can’t help it. It’s stronger than me.”

“Right, I’m aware of that.” He leads you to the park, to a more secluded bench, where you both sit down. You sip your coffee in silence, waiting for him to speak, and you’re grateful you grabbed your jacket, as the weather has turned chilly. 

He seems to be debating something in his head, opening his mouth and closing it again, perhaps unsure of how to approach the subject he wants to tell you about. 

Until he sighs and finally does it.

“Remember when I told you about my uncles?” You nod. “Well, my uncle Doffy has an adoptive daughter - Baby 5 - and she’s getting married next weekend.” He sighs and you nod. You already knew Doflamingo had a daughter and that she was beautiful - Ichiji had made sure you knew, trying to get a rise out of you while blatantly flirting with her.

“Doflamingo he… well he’s always taken a special interest in me. He made sure I went to the best schools, had the best teachers and received the best education possible. He polished me to follow in his footsteps, to take over his enterprise as an heir. I never showed any interest in it.”

Interesting. “Why not have his own daughter take over the company?” You blurted out before filtering the question through your brain. Maybe he didn’t want to share more details than he was willing to give.

“Ah, because my cousin is very fickle with her affections… she loves too hard, too fast. She’s always willing to accept any proposal from any man who dares to stare at her a moment too long. This is her third attempted marriage, actually - Doffy called off the other ones before they went through.” He chuckles, clearly understating his cousin, and you can’t help but be surprised. “So my uncle can’t risk some man telling Baby 5 she’s beautiful and getting her to sign a prenup that takes away the company.”

You nod in understanding and take another sip of coffee.

“Anyway, I never meant to take over his place and, for now, he doesn’t press the subject. He knows I want to practise medicine. Though he makes sure I know everything that happens in the company - which I do - and he keeps me on the board. Unfortunately, Doffy also thinks he has a say in who I date - or eventually marry - even going as far as setting me up on dates with ‘possible candidates’.”

“That seems a bit controlling…” You mumble.

“It is. Doffy is many things, and controlling and manipulative are some of them.” Law takes a long sip of his coffee until the crinkle between his eyebrows relaxes and disappears. It’s the second time you’ve seen him rattled beyond his mask of perfect control. And Doflamingo always seems to be behind it. “I’ve avoided bringing any girl back to his house because he can be very inconvenient. But I know that if I show up to my cousin’s wedding without a date, he’ll want to introduce me to every eligible young lady he deems fit to welcome into the family.”

Controlling seems like an understatement, then. 

“That sounds terrible, Law.”

He agrees with a nod and the crinkle is back. You feel the urge to smooth it out with your fingertips to help him relax. Or maybe by pressing your lips to it. 

You drink your coffee instead. 

“It is. That’s why I’ve been thinking and… well I’m going to bring a date to the wedding. A perfect date. Someone he can’t manipulate and someone he won’t be able to find fault with. She and I will seem so much in love that he’ll be forced to ease up on his agenda and let me be for the whole wedding weekend. Doesn’t that sound perfect?” He smirks at you, the crease disappearing when his eyes meet yours. 

You’re suddenly a bit jealous, though you really have no right to be. But who is this girl? Why is she so perfect? So much in love? Why haven’t you ever met her?

“Sure, seems perfect. Flawless plan.” You whisper, barely able to shake the frown from your lips.

“I’m glad you agree. Because you’re her.” His smirk turns into a grin as you cough and sputter coffee everywhere, barely avoiding staining your outfit.

“What do you mean?” You ask, accepting the tissue he hands you with a gruff ‘thanks’ and wiping your mouth. 

“We're friends, we get along well and… we can't deny this… tension between us.” He smirks as your cheeks warm. “I know we can pull off looking like a couple in love.”

The way your breath hitches in your throat has nothing to do with choking on your coffee, and everything to do with the implications of what he said. 

“I know we're capable of doing this. I've planned the outcome. It's flawless. The thing is…” He scratches the back of his neck, his amber gaze fixed somewhere far away. “I also know I'm being selfish. I want to do this for my reasons alone. But to do so, I'll have to drag you into this mess. I've considered the implications, and if you say yes, you'll need to be aware of some things, but…” His sigh comes from deep within, from a place he's not yet intent on showing you. “I don't want to do this with anyone else but you. And I can't miss this wedding. And I definitely can't be paraded around like a prized pig.”

A strained chuckle escapes his lips as he tousles his dark hair again. “It's a damned if I do, damned if I don't situation… what do you say?”

You've been quietly sipping the rest of your coffee, trying to ignore the tightening in your chest at his words. A fake relationship? It does sound simple. You know him well enough by now, he's right, you're friends. He's also right about the tension between you two, and you could pull off being completely enthralled by each other without much effort. You wouldn't even be faking the attraction. 

But what does he mean by the implications? Something about his family? Or the forced connection between the two of you? 

Maybe both?

“I'm considering it. I want to help you, you're my friend.”

“But?” He asks while raising an eyebrow. 

“What are the implications?”

The crinkle in the middle of his brow is back and before he even speaks, you already know it’s about his family. 

“Doffy isn’t easy to deal with. He'll be imposing, inappropriate and most likely, manipulative. He'll want to know all about you and will probably test you, push you, to see if you're really interested in me.” He lets out another one of those deep, soul-shaking sighs. “I really didn't want to drag you into this, but I can’t take another family function meeting women I don't care about and never will.”

You can handle some probing. Hell, you went through the same thing when you and Ichiji made things official. How different can Donquixote Doflamingo be from Vinsmoke Judge? Probably not too different - same cold, smug look, same indifference… probably! 

Seeing the slight distress in Law's eyes only strengthens your resolve. “I'll do it.” You give him a strained smile as he raises his eyebrows. 

“Are you sure?”

“I’d never let a friend down, Law. Besides, how bad could it really be? Free food, dancing, pretending to be your girlfriend… I can think of worse things! A girl can be spoiled sometimes.”

He chuckles at your silliness, but the tension in his brow remains. “My uncle can be a handful… he… there was…” He looks like he's about to tell you something important but quickly shakes his head. “Never mind. As long as you're sure.”

You nod, finishing your coffee, and take out your trusted notebook. “But I'm not going in blind, mister. We'll need to learn everything about each other. If we're doing this, we're going to be superstars at it!”

Finally the crease between his eyebrows softens as he watches you with a flicker of amusement, a slight easiness overpowering his usual scowl. “I knew you’d say that.”

You grumble through your teeth, too focused on trying to find a pen in the chaos that is your purse, but you must have misplaced it because there’s nothing there. “Do you have a pen?” You gesture to his pocket, seeing some sticking out.

Sighing, he reaches without looking and gives you the first thing he grabs. As the pen touches your hand, you raise your brow. What the heck? Your eyes go from the pen to Law and from Law to the pen, an amused smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. 

“What?” He asks, taking another sip of coffee.

“This is freaking adorable. I’m dying. Trafalgar Law, the moody, broody, humourless doctor has a teddy bear pen. I might need to take a photo of this.”

Law’s ears turn slightly red and he purses his lips, but he tries to look unaffected. “So what?” He reaches, trying to take it back. 

A giggle escapes your lips before he can snatch the pen from your hands. “It’s too much to handle. I never thought you would have anything like this on you!” You keep deflecting his moves so he doesn’t grab the pen and you can almost see smoke coming out of his ears.

With a low grunt and a quick move, Law grabs your chin and moves his face closer to yours, a glint of amusement and impatience in his eyes. “I like cute things, obviously.” He says as his eyes give you an appreciative once-over and you blush. “Is that a problem?” You can barely think with his face in front of yours, so you don’t say anything. He smirks, tilting your head higher. “Didn’t think so.” Then he snatches the pen from your hand with a quick gesture. “Stop being a brat.” His tone is sharp but his gaze is playful. 

When he releases you, searching his pocket for another pen, you have to swallow hard and take a deep breath before you can remember why you needed the pen in the first place. As he hands you the other pen, he watches you with an insufferably smug look. “You were making notes about what we needed to learn…”

“Right!” You exclaim, feeling your cheeks flare up and start scribbling furiously. 

He tilts his head to spy what you're writing and can't hide another smirk from overcoming his lips. “Favourite music, colour, movie, place… is this fifty questions type of thing?”

You don't stop your furious scribbling and you don't need to meet his eyes to know he's staring at you with mild amusement. “I told you I'm not going in blind. We need to cover everything. You've got work today?” He nods and you hum in disappointment. 

“Tomorrow?” He says tentatively, not knowing where you're going with this. 

“Yes. Only in the afternoon, though. Can we meet at your place?” You've been at the door of his apartment but you've never crossed the threshold. Are you being too forward? 

Heck, nah! You're going to be his girlfriend for the weekend anyway! 

“Sure. What do you have in mind?” His voice deepens as he raises his hand, placing his arm on the bench behind your shoulders, his hand caressing your hair softly as if by accident. Your pen drills a hole in the notebook and you curse and clear your throat. 

“Studying. I'll compile this list and then we're going to answer these questions and learn everything about each other.”

His smirk only deepens as he hums even lower. No matter how much time passes between you two, his voice is something that always makes you shiver. “Studying each other sounds great.” You make another hole in the notebook and he chuckles again. “You're trying to be in control of everything again.” He says deadpan. 

“I know! Let me cope, Law. It's the only way I know how to do this.”

He hums and you can almost feel the way he's trapping more words behind his tongue. He wants to say something else, but he just raises his arms in the air. “Fair enough.”

And then, to indulge you, he throws in some more topics you should cover before heading back to work. 

After this interaction you're left thinking that this will either be the greatest time you've had in your life, or the worst. 

-*-

During your free afternoon, you compile the list on your laptop, complete with a spreadsheet so you can note down Law’s answers and your own. You’ll then share the list so you both can study and leave nothing to chance.

You arrive exactly on time and by the second knock, Law opens the door to his apartment to let you in. He must’ve come directly from the clinic - or the hospital - with barely time to change, because he’s still in jeans and a dress shirt - with half the buttons undone, showing off his amazing chest piece.

As you stare at him from outside his apartment, a definite blush on your cheeks, as you feel yourself burning up, he leans his arm against the threshold while the corner of his lips slowly curls up. “Hi.” That low timbre in his voice has you gulping in no time. His amber gaze shifts to your laptop and he lets out a low chuckle. “You came fully prepared, I see.”

Clearing your throat, you manage to let out a pathetic ‘yes’ to accompany your nod and his grin intensifies. “Come in.” He slurs, barely moving so you’re forced to brush against his body to enter his apartment. 

You immediately remove your jacket upon entering - the heat is already overwhelming. As you take a look around you notice he really is someone who’s always in control. His home is minimalist - at least the living room! Who knows if he has a hidden room where he hoards comics or coins or something like that - and everything’s in its rightful place. He has taste, the furniture is beautiful, but it doesn’t scream opulence. 

“Nice place.” You say genuinely while removing your shoes by the entrance.

“Thanks.” Law says as he closes the door and gestures towards the couch. The small end table has an assortment of cookies and two cups of steaming coffee ready for you. 

“Third-best?” You ask as you approach the refreshments, pointing at the coffee.

“I’m aiming for second. I bribed Sanji to point me to some tastier beans than the ones he showed you.” Your grin matches his.

“Competitive much?”

“You have no idea.” The intensity of his gaze doubles as you both sit on the couch. “So,” he starts while changing the subject, “what’s this all about? Fifty questions turned to one hundred?”

He’s joking, but he’s also right, so you give him a strained smile while you open your laptop and set it on your lap. “Something like that. Get comfortable.”

With a groan he picks up his coffee mug and lets himself slide down the couch while you giggle. 

-*-

“Okay, that about settles tattoos and marks!” You don’t really have any more clothes to remove, as you’ve already stripped down to your simple dress, yet the heat remains unbearable. Law’s torso is still bare, since he showed you all his tattoos, and, even though you already knew they were sexy as hell, you were still unprepared. “Now…”

“There’s more?” He interrupts, another muffled groan escaping his lips as he puts on his shirt but leaves it open. “I refuse.” He closes your laptop as he sits down near you, the gesture earning him an indignant gasp.

“Law!”

“You’re too much in control.” He says your name sternly. “This is looking like an interrogation. What happened to talking and doing this the normal way? Where’s the spontaneity?” He adds cheekily, his arms resting behind his neck as he leans back, his chest muscles rippling with the gesture. 

“There can’t be any. We need to be thorough, we need to sell this act! How can we do that if we don’t know everything there is to know about each other?” You spent hours on this list - even though you didn’t tell him that - this is the one thing, the only thing you can control because all the variables of the wedding in itself are daunting and terrifying.

You can’t control who will believe or doubt you, you can't control how Doflamingo will act with both of you, hell, Law doesn’t even know who all the guests are! What if any of the Vinsmokes are there? What if Ichiji is there?

Too many things can go wrong!

“We can very well sell this act on actions alone.” His voice promises more. Your heart hammers against your chest as your pulse quickens. The idea of not having control over the situation is still too overwhelming. 

“That’s impossible, Law.”

“It's not.” He leans forward, leaving just a breath of space between you, his amber gaze locking you in effortlessly. “If you think that knowing my favourite book or food is going to be the only thing that convinces people - especially my uncle - you’re dead wrong.” His soft breath tickles your eyelids, he’s that close. He might be trying to make you flinch, or pull back. To challenge you and see if you recoil from his proximity.

You don't.

You stand defiantly, your eyes never leaving his gaze. Even if you're burning up, heat pooling somewhere in your belly, turning into an ache between your legs. “It’s not completely about what we say or how we say it. It’s about how we act. But mostly…” His hand moves, brushing a strand of hair away from your face and you tremble slightly. “It’s about how you react to me.”

You fight to regain control of your breathing, but then you counter his gaze with a mocking grin. “You think a few light touches and a piercing gaze have any effect on me, Law?” You try to scoff but the sound comes out weird and high-pitched. “I think you’re underestimating my self-control.”

“Really?” The huskiness in his voice sends shivers down your spine.

“Hmm, hmm!” Is your clever reply. You’re bluffing and he knows it.

“Then why are you clutching your laptop so tightly?” He raises an eyebrow as your eyes dart downward to your hand. Your knuckles are already turning white from gripping the laptop and you curse, trying to play off your gesture with a slight shrug, but he’s seen through you.

His other hand grazes your bare leg, starting at the knee and climbing up, a phantom touch, a mere whisper of his fingers against your skin. Your breath hitches as he locks your eyes with his gaze again. “You don’t need to control everything, all the time. I’ve got this. I’ve got you. It’s not a list that will make us believable. It’s this.” He leans slowly forward, his lips brushing ever so lightly against the corner of your own as his fingers graze the inside of your thigh, leaving a trail of warmth behind. 

Your gasp turns into a soft moan-like sigh and you almost melt into his touch as your body gives in. How can something so trivial as a light touch feel so damn good?

“There. People will believe that.” He smirks, satisfied, as he leans back against the couch, leaving you breathing hard, trying to regain composure, as if he hasn’t completely aroused you with just a touch and a few words. “Is this enough for today?”

You get up, leaving your laptop on the couch and start pacing back and forth, hands wringing together, trying to regain feeling in your limbs. How could he affect you so much with a few touches? A few words? One glance?

What’s this hold he has on you?

“No.” You find your voice after clearing your throat and try again. “It’s not enough. We need to know how to behave as… as boyfriend and girlfriend. Like you said, we need to have knowledge about each other, but we need to get accustomed to each other’s touch.” A sigh escapes your lips. This is dangerous territory. “To… kissing…” His eyebrows raise but you pay it no mind as you continue, already rambling a bit. 

“I don’t have a lot of experience with boyfriends…” A crimson blush spreads across your cheeks. “My ex… well when we were out in public, at big events, he tended to ignore me. He liked to showcase me as a pretty thing dangling from his arm, but then he didn’t really care much about me, drinking with his acquaintances, not caring about where I was or what I was doing… He barely touched me. Just enough so people knew we were together, but that's not going to cut it if we want to fool your uncle. I don’t really know how we should act and-...”

“Okay.” Law stands up and takes a step closer to you, making you stop pacing. His presence becomes suddenly overwhelming and commanding. 

“Okay, what?” 

“Okay, I’ll show you how I would behave with you in public, so you get used to it. I would never, ever ignore you. You’re too special to be left alone.” A flicker of something primal touches his eyes. A sort of possession in his gaze. “And I wouldn’t barely touch you.” His smirk makes your breath hitch. There, this right here is dangerous territory. 

But it's necessary. 

As you nod, he steps even closer. His hand reaches as he places it in the small of your back, his fingers clinging to you as he pulls you nearer. His eyes never leave yours, though the amber is slowly giving way to a darker shade, his pupils dilating. “If this were real, I’d keep you close to me, so people would know we were together.” You swallow a lump as he pulls you even closer, showing you how he’d stake his claim on you, a bit possessive, but nothing aggressive, just a statement. 

“And if this were real, I’d steal light touches, to keep you focused on me.” His other hand traces the curve of your neck and shoulder, slowly trailing down your arm and stopping at your wrist, his thumb brushing small circles against the sensitive skin. You can feel your heart beating erratically against your chest, his voice enveloping you in a thick haze: commanding, seductive, enthralling. You try to focus and remain composed, but he’s making it so hard.

The fire in your belly stirs and ignites again. The embers turning bright and stoking the flames of desire within you. 

He tilts his face, his soft lips grazing your earlobe and his whisper creates goosebumps on your neck. “If this were real, I’d have you in my arms all night, to remind everyone that you’re mine.” His hand slides up your side, his thumb grazing the underside of your ribs, just barely brushing against the curve of your breast. A fleeting touch, a feather-like graze that sends a tingling sensation through you, making your breath catch in your throat as a hiss escapes your lips. 

The flame roars, grows and spreads its tendrils through you.

Law’s lips brush against your collarbone, sending heatwaves down your chest that pool in your stomach. Your hands clench, aching to touch him and pull him closer, but you remain firm, grasping the last bit of control you think you still have. “If this were real,” he whispers against the hollow of your throat, then pulls slightly back as his thumb brushes against your jaw, tilting your head upward so you can meet his gaze, “I’d make you beg for my kiss.”

You can barely breathe. Law’s presence is overwhelming, he commands all your senses, there’s nothing you can think about other than his voice, his lips, his touch. Every other thought, every other worry is erased from your mind. All you can think about is that you need his lips against yours; you need his touch. Now. 

Is this what he meant by helping you let go? Surrender? 

Somehow, you find a semblance of strength to speak. “I don’t beg.” Your voice comes out ragged and hoarse, charged with intensity, pure need and unbridled desire. 

Law’s smile widens, lending him a sort of unhinged - but still very much in control - look that makes you weak in the knees. “No?” He murmurs, his voice filled with amusement. “Are you sure?”

His lips graze against yours, not a kiss, barely even a touch - just a tease. His hand slides back down to your lower back and he pulls you impossibly close to him, his body heat radiating from his bare chest and pressing against you as you tremble and squirm under his touch. 

“Look at you,” his voice is tantalisingly low, slurred and full of promises, “I barely even touched you and you’re already a mess, sweetheart.” His fingers keep tracing your arms and neck, his lips taunting and teasing your most sensitive spots. You’re trembling and squirming under his caresses, hot, hard pants leaving your lips, your breath slipping away from you in ragged gasps. 

You are a mess. 

“I want to hear you ask for it. Beg. Tell me what you want.” He whispers in your ear, his thumb brushing against your lower lip and you close your eyes, whimpering involuntarily as your body responds to every touch, every teasing word. He’s right, he’s so right. 

He hasn’t even kissed you and you’re already falling apart. 

“Just say it.” He urges you.

You clench your fists, trying to regain control, trying so hard to win back something you never had to begin with. But it’s all too much. It’s too overwhelming and you need some sort of release.

“Please…” Your whisper is barely audible but you know he hears you. He tilts his head to lock his gaze into your eyes, his hand on your neck, holding you and tilting you towards him.

“Louder.”

If you had any thoughts left in your mushed brain, you wouldn’t be able to hear it because the pounding of your heart reverberates against your ears. “Please.” You repeat, louder this time, your voice trembling as you succumb to that final loss of control. “Kiss me.” 

To the final surrender.

Law smirks, satisfied and pleased with your response, his teasing successful. “If this were real,” he starts again as his lips brush ever so slightly against yours, “you’d be begging like this all the time.”

He’s still not kissing you. He’s a breath away and not giving you the release you crave, the one you so desperately need. “Please, Law!” You beg again, a muffled hiccup leaving your lips. His jaw clenches slightly and he grunts - that primal sound that makes you roll your eyes in anticipation - before he leans in and captures your lips with his, his hand pressing on your neck, tilting your jaw as he pulls you closer. 

He starts slow as you moan into the sensation, but soon his hands grip you tighter and he deepens the kiss, his mouth claiming yours with fierce intensity. He dominates the kiss, holding you against him as his tongue slides against yours in a wordless claim.

You whimper again as you dig your nails into his bare chest, holding on for your sanity and trying to ground yourself as your body and mind unravel for him, surrendering completely to his hold, to his control. He kisses you as if you are truly his. His touch, his scent, his presence: it’s all overwhelming and intense and you want to give all of yourself to him, because this sensation is freeing.

He pulls away too soon and you’re left trembling. Ragged breaths escape your swollen lips and you can feel your cheeks burning. You’ve never felt this way before. Your eyes widen as you stare at him, dazed and completely undone. 

You’re at his mercy.

“If this were real, I’d kiss you like this every time.” 

You can only nod, your head still dizzy as you try to regain control. Your mind is still too addled from the way he made you fall apart without breaking a sweat. His gaze softens somewhat as he pats you lightly in the head and gives you a smug smile. 

“Good girl.”

[solbaby7]

Hiii, can I get a margarita with a salt rim on the rocks, please? Thank you!💕

[ “got a mouth on you. someone should teach you how to use it.” + smut + rhysand ]

-> BLURB BAR <-

Rhysand liked wild things—had this affinity for collecting strays; plucking them from their prisons and providing a life of freedom and luxury.

Maybe that’s why he’s so drawn to you. This rabid animal of a thing with a serious aversion to proper clothing and absolutely no regard for others personal boundaries. “Back for more charity work?”

“Is that how you think of my visits? I’m hurt.”

You look down at him with amusement, crouched low on a branch with a skirt so short it takes effort not to stare. “We both know you aren’t,” You make tree climbing look easy, bare toes trodding across branches that don’t look sturdy but hold strong bearing your weight. “What’d you bring me this time?”

Rhysand dangles the wicker basket before him with two fingers. He’s teasing, offering; luring you in closer as the laws of the Middle insists that its lands and the creatures in it must welcome you and not the other way around. “Come see for yourself, trouble.”

He’s grown fond of the wild way you move, confidently twisting and ducking through the forestry—the breathable linen of your strapless top flows with the breeze. Handmade necklaces kiss at your clavicle, all braided leather with bleached bones, carefully woven shells and shiny geodes. Once you get close enough he can see the neat braids peeking through loose strands, interwoven thread adding pops of color in haphazard places. “More naughty words on paper,” You chuff out when the weight of two books sits in your hands. The pages are pristine; probably first addition and perfectly cared for. “Always knew you High Lords were just pampered perverts.”

“Didn’t seem to bother you when you read the last two I brought you.”

Rhysand is sure he’ll have dreams about the pretty blush on your cheeks. He’s certain fantasies have planted their seed with intent to grow and grow like fucking ivy until nothing in sight could be see but you and that feisty furrow of your brow and the sharp roll of your eyes. Curious hands dig around the basket, sifting through cured meats and cheeses, parchment paper and oil pastels, rich fabrics and a case full of fresh sewing needles. “You trying to turn me into a fucking housewife or something? Charcuterie boards and fixing the buttons on your rich boy clothes.”

“Got a mouth on you.” Rhys chuckles in amusement, aubergine irises twinkling with silent adoration. “Someone should teach you how to use it.” You don’t seem the slightest bit ashamed when forcing him to hold onto your things, urging him to follow with a jerky nod of your head. “Could start by saying thank you.”

“Make me.”

Something in the air shifts. It alters the way he stands. Awakens a creature lurking in his shadow and its sights lock on you—the female with no fear of monsters. No, instead you hunt them, wrangle them up and tame them. Rabid beasts crooned into fucking house pets and Rhysand yearned to be the stray you took pity on. “Make you use your mouth properly? Or make you say thank you?”

“Both.” He’s hooked; shoes sinking into your footsteps until thick forestry breaks into a clearing with a house built smack dab in the middle. It’s surrounded by flowers, lavender and lemongrass guarding hand built basins labeled with fresh produce to fend off freeloading animals. Ivy creeps up one side of the greenhouse attached to the back. “Show me how to do it like they do in the books you bring me.”

Is it possible for a mouth to dry up and salivate at once? Because Rhys suddenly finds his in an odd mix of something in between. You barely notice the clumsy way he sets aside your basket of goodies but you’re fully aware of the eager way he pulls you in, stopping you from taking a step further. “You sure you know what you’re asking for?”

You scan the length of him, running over the strong set of his shoulders and the practiced ease in the way his arms rest at his sides. Every breath strains against the soft cotton of his shirt, solid muscle radiating warmth when you rest the palm of your hand against it. It’s a slow drag down and you feel no shame for your curiosity when exploring the length of his abdomen, fingers hooking in the loop of his belt. “I’ve got a pretty good idea.” The metallic click of his belt unbuckling, the sharp undoing of tied dress pants. “But, I’m a visual learner.” Rhys’ heart throbs in his chest when you sink to your knees, blood rushing lower until the true extent of his affection towards you is standing at attention in your face.

“I can help with that,” He’s already easing down the top of your shirt, groaning at the sight of bare breasts and pebbled nipples. “Though, my teaching style is a little more…hands on.”

You don’t have time to ask what that means when he’s giving you exactly what you asked for; tugging down his pants just enough to show off a throbbing erection, ruddy tip leaking pre-cum. Two fingers tap at your cheek twice and you have no control over the way your mouth drops open.

He knows he’s being a little rougher than he should—it’s probably your first time giving head and yet he can’t slow down his movements. You don’t even complain, breathing through the way his cock is fed to you, spit glistening along the length and dribbling down your chin. “Quick learner, aren’t you?” Rhys praises so prettily, such nice words spewing free as if he wasn’t rutting his prick down your throat.

Thumbs clear away the tears from under your eyes when you gag. The rasp of his voice urging you to work harder, to hollow your cheeks and run your tongue along that vein that has blunt nails digging into the nape of your neck. Swears spill in a sloppy slur, hands guiding the bob of your head until his release shoots down your throat with a choked grunt.

There’s no way you don’t look a mess when you peer up at him. Fucked out eyes. Tears tracking down your cheeks. Bruised lips. A wet patch dripping down your chest and still you utter the words, “Thank you.”

Just perfection and something inside him screams ‘mine’ the same time Rhysand replies with a breathless, “You’re welcome.”

[starlostastronaut]

SUNSETS AND BUCKET LISTS

han jisung × reader - fluff, childhood friends to lovers, college au - 1.8k

summary - spending your last day with your best friend before school should be sad, but this time it took an unexpected turn

cw - use of yn?

links - masterlist

so! i'm almost late but, still made it in time. i guess you could call this ji's bday fic (tho there will be more sunshine twins content coming soon), but most importantly, happy birthday katsy!! ( @catiuskaa ) this one is for you <3333

and shout out to my mars who saved me several times writing this. not proofread and idk what is that ending, but i hope you like it! <3

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Jisung whispered into your ear, his hot breath spilling over your skin, making you shiver and instantly startling you awake. Or mostly awake. Still half asleep, your brain only registered that someone is in very close proximity to you and we do not like that, before your hand tightened on your plushie and you whacked Jisung in the face.

“Ow, what’s that for?” he whined, dramatically holding his palm to the right side of his face. His mischievous grin was replaced by a scowl and he looked at you like you just stole his dog, not simply hit him with a stuffed cat. With your consciousness finally catching up to speed, you realized that it was not an alien coming to abduct you, but it was Han Jisung, your best friend since you were three years old. And he carried the title proudly, always mentioning your sixteen years long friendship to anyone who (did not) care.

“Sorry, Ji, oh my god!” You swiftly rose up on the bed, it was a miracle your head didn't collide with Jisung's as well. “I thought you were, I don't know, a pervert or something.”

“YN,” Jisung sighed. “It's literally just us two and our parents. There's a security system in the house. How would a pervert even get in?”

He was right. Growing up in the same town, just three houses away, your families have known each other very well. It was a tradition that started when you and Jisung were old enough to travel and actually understand a vacation. Your families always rented out the same beach house to spend the last two weeks of summer holiday together.

By now, you knew the place front to back, being able to move around while blinded and you would be just fine. So Jisung was right, but you couldn’t possibly let him have the win so easily.

“I don't know,” you shrugged. “They always find a way?” Jisung gave you an unimpressed look. “Okay, okay. But it's still your fault. You shouldn't have woken me up like a creep.”

“Blah, blah, blah.” Jisung rolled his eyes and grabbed your hands, quite literally dragging out of bed and out of the warm comfort of the covers. You hissed and a shiver ran over your skin as your, due to the summer heat barely clothed, body made contact with the cold floor. “Come on, get up, we have so much stuff to do!”

Jisung let go of your hands, bouncing around happily. You shook your head, amazed at the amount of energy he had so early in the morning. Had he eaten just sugar for breakfast?

You slowly stood up, rummaging through the closet for some clothes. “Turn around at least, perv,” you laughed, smacking him over his chest with a shirt. Jisung laughed, but left the room, giving you privacy to change. Not wanting to keep him waiting, you put on the first shorts and shirt you found. It's not like you were going to meet many people so who cares, right? On your way out you grabbed a hoodie too. The summer was in fact nearing its end and the mornings were often chilly. And knowing Jisung, you will have breakfast outside.

As per your prediction, the small outside table was full of food, with Jisung impatiently waiting for you, bouncing his leg and playing with a fork.

After a quick breakfast, Jisung shared his plan for the day. You listen in disbelief, wondering how he wanted to fit all of that into one day. Despite your doubts, you were going to do everything for it to happen though.

This was your last day together. In pursuit of your respective dreams, you and Jisung not only attended different universities, but in different cities too and the distance made it even harder. In order to visit each other, you would have to spend several hours traveling, and that was a luxury you couldn’t afford. You tried, but then a test came up, or a friend's birthday party or Jisung was sick… After three months you gave up trying, resigning to seeing your best friend on Christmas and summer only.

It was hard enough to leave him last year, but you called each other a lot. In the beginning that was. Once you got your bearings and university properly started, you were often so exhausted you fell asleep on the video call. Or didn't call at all, because Jisung forgot to charge his phone in the whirlwind of classes and deadlines.

You never knew it was possible to miss someone so much. Being without Jisung felt like someone was slowly tearing off your limbs. And when you saw him at Christmas, it felt like the puzzle finally found its missing piece. A week later, in your dorm room with friends and soju, some revelations were had, but by the time summer came around, your mind was in a completely different place.

And this time, knowing what kind of year you were up against, letting go of Jisung for another several months suddenly felt impossible. Knowing this shared vacation was coming, both you and Jisung made a list of activities to do and places nearby to visit. But with how excited you both were, you put off checking boxes in favour of lazing around, watching anime, going to the pool and talking for hours.

So there you were, left with a list impossible to complete by the end of today. Yet nothing would deter you from trying.

“I think I'm actually gonna die.” You fell onto your towel, lying motionlessly on the beach. Not even having enough energy to watch the sunset, which you would have taken countless pics of any other day.

By some miracle, you managed to complete Jisung's entire checklist for the day, which left you completely exhausted. You were seriously thinking of asking Jisung to carry you back, because unlike you, he seemed as if powered by the air he breathed - he hadn't run out of energy the whole day.

“Noo, you can't die yet. We still have to check off the paddleboard at the sea,” Jisung said. And there it was, he actually brought the paddleboard down to the beach. You saw it lying next to your things when you sat back up.

“Ji, seriously?” you laughed. “You can't swim? And it's dark.” The idea seemed a little funny and a whole lot crazy. It was one thing to be at the pool, where there was a bottom and a limited amount of water. To go to the wild, open sea, in the dark, and tired after the whole day? k

“Actually… I can. Kinda. Lix taught me,” Jisung admitted. You knew who he was talking about, Jisung wouldn't shut up about his roommate and new best friend Felix, he actually mentioned him in about every conversation he could. It was kind of cute actually. You were worried Jisung would struggle, being an introvert with social anxiety, but Felix waltzed into his life and saved him for you.

“Okay…” Felix teaching him solved one problem at least. But you still didn't feel like it was a good idea. “Ji, do we have to? What if something happens? We're tired, we're alone here…”

Jisung’s shoulders slumped. “Right, yeah you're right. I just had this plan and I wanted to… nevermind.”

That wasn't fair. Now you felt bad. God, why was Jisung so cute? “Maybe we could… I don't know. Put it just by the shore and sit on it?” you suggested, wanting to make Jisung happy. You would do anything to make him happy, even go out on the sea when you thought about it.

Alone together on the beach, the sun setting over the water, the atmosphere was romantic. And thought your brain, because all your feelings that you pushed aside to focus on quality time with Jisung, now came rushing back all at once.

Jisung's face lit up. “Yeah, we can do that. I guess it counts as completing.” You helped Jisung push the paddleboard just behind the first waves, sitting on it with your feet in the water, still in the safe distance to the shore.

You looked over the horizon, the sun reflecting on the water begging to be photographed. “Selca?” you asked. Jisung nodded and leaned closer, posing for the low quality picture. With barely any natural light left, the photo was bound to be blurry and dark, but you always liked that kind of aesthetic anyway.

Feeling daring in the moment, you pressed your lips to Jisung's cheek. Barely, just a few seconds, but enough to capture on your phone.

“YN…” Jisung whispered. If it wasn't so dark, you would see the pink dusting his face.

“Sorry, I just… I just had to,” you said. What did you have to lose anyway? You were leaving tomorrow morning and wouldn't see Jisung for another few months. “I had to know what it feels like,” you whispered.

Jisung lowered his gaze, choosing to look at the waves rather than looking at you. Somehow, the silence was scarier than a rejection of your implied confession.

“Say something Ji, please,” you begged, not knowing how to bear the crushing weight of the silence anymore. You feared what message it carried.

“You crossed the last box for me.”

Before you could ask what it meant, Jisung took out a crumpled piece of paper and handed it to you. His checklist of activities for the vacation. When you unfolded the small ball of paper, your eyes skimmed over the completed activities, all the way to the last one.

Kiss YN in some super romantic moment.

“I planned to tell you,” Jisung spoke up. “How I feel. I guess you beat me to it.” He lifted his head to look at you. “I did understand it correctly, right? It wasn't a platonic friend kiss, because Felix sometimes gives me those and if it was then forget everything I said because-”

You surged forward, interrupting his rambling with your lips on his. It was a wonder you didn't fall off the paddleboard, with how much force was used. You felt him freeze and smile, as he slowly kissed you back, overcoming the initial shock and surprise.

And you kissed, until there was no sun in the sky and your parents had to go look at why you took so long. That night, you laid in Jisung's bed, making promises and wishes for the upcoming year, already making plans, determined to not give up this time.

Somehow, coming back to campus and the insanity your university could be sometimes, wasn't as hard as it was last year. This time around, you had something new to look forward to in the darkest moments of endless texts and assignments. You had a boyfriend and a promise to keep. No giving up this time. And you both dutifuly kept it.

Jisungie <3

still alive after that test?

YN <3

barely

i'm dead inside and lonely

my roommate's out this weekend on a family thing

leaving me all alone in this dorm

Jisungie <3

good thing i have no classes this friday

see you then ynnie <3

taglist: @stayconnecteed @hanjsquokka @starseungs @starlostseungmin @ivaneedssleep @143horny-core @lakoya @rylea08 @caitlyn98s @oddracha @sweetbokji @feybin @qwonyoung23 @jiaaabbahng @hope69world @palindrome969 @alicedawitchbish @hyunjinshairband7 @nattisbored @ermahgerd-larry-and-ziam @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @kirakombat @kmgfeels @freyjhasdesiredreality @dazzlingjade @boldy-49 @naarmzz @rei-reia @cookiesandcreammy @urfavblondy @chlodavids @armystay89 @btskzfav @vegetablesarefuntables @tearzzuu @ch4nn13luv @kisses-too-the-moon @mellhwang @lolareadsimagines @missmajdastark @drewsandsebastianswife @mitchii @chillichillicrabcrab23 @laniminchanlix @dearly-somber @greyyeti @linosazuna @na-tas-post

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[vampiresbloodx]

Stardew valley au:

Farmer!reader moving to Pelican Town and taking over their grandfather's farm will definitely be a lot of sweaty, sleepless nights and drowning on coffee to make sure everything looks just as perfect as you saw in those photos of what the farm used to be.

That's when you meet everybody in town (slowly at least) and your very friendly neighbors, who you think are way too friendly or you're just socially anxious and not used to small town kindness. You cross paths with Natasha Romanoff and her roommate Wanda Maximoff, they live in the same house together, just not in the same room she explains but everyone else calls them roommates.

Wanda wasn't there when you introduced yourself shyly to Natasha, she was supposedly out doing whatever she was doing (to quote Natasha's exact words) the mayor has expressed how fond of them he was, even first mentioned it to you the day you had arrived in hopes they'd be delighted by your presence.

It seems as though getting to know Wanda was gonna be a hard one...

But you weren't the one to hide away from a task.

Natasha herself didn't look all too interested in the new farmer in town, she kept on muttering about meeting up with a friend, Carol you think her name was, there was a Val to? You weren't sure. Maybe you should pay attention more often if the girls you didn't meet weren't so damn gorgeous you couldn't stop staring.

Weeks passed, soon it was your first month staying in this town. And you had gotten your very own cat!.

It was very unexpected the morning you heard your door knocking and you opened it, revealing Natasha's roommate, Wanda, who was more shy than you had imagined, you thought she'd be more confident, like her roommate in a way, guess she was kind of like you, introverted, quiet. You couldn't help but stare at her more than you should as you took in all of her, the skirt she was wearing, the long boots, the leather jacket and loose shirt, it almost made you feel like a damn creep staring especially when her cleavage was almost poking out.

Despite how intimidating she looks, she was actually really nice to you, she apologized for not being there when you first came, she was busy with her online classes to which you had asked about her interests and was intrigued about it, she seemed to really like that.

Was every girl in this countryside small town this damn beautiful? You thought, trying to keep it together as you probably looked like a flustered mess in front of this woman.

"um, where was I..." Wanda chuckled, looking around the front of your farm house, you smiled, letting her take her time to gather her words. "Nat and I like to go to the saloon on Fridays, she does, I mostly enjoy spending time in my room, but if you wanted to join us, you can."

You couldn't help but notice how red her cheeks got when she was trying to ask that question. God it was adorable.

You nodded.

She looked surprised.

"you'll be there? Oh, cool! I'll let her know and all, I'm happy you came here, dunno why, there's not much happening- okay maybe there is and I just don't go out as much but that's just me okay I'll leave you be I'm starting to ramble now."

You were beginning to love this town a little more.

[dollivication]

RESIDENT EVIL || BOT DROP 7

WARNING! Some bots include sensitive topics. DARK CONTENT BASED. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

Anyone can be loved. Even girls who are complete losers, like you; A femcel that nobody could possibly touch or want. That was fine! Because there was just more of you for him.

Introducing LEON KENNEDY — “…Thanks for having me over. Your house is… Cozy. I like the.. stuff, on your shelves..”

He’s been such a good lover if you ignore the fact that you’ve kept him hostage for god knows how long! The bad thing is—he’s tired of playing nice. And you should’ve never let your guard down.

Introducing LEON KENNEDY — “…But now? Now, it’s my turn. And you’re gonna take what I give you..”

Your nurturing nature has him thinking, but you’re so quick to shut down all of your boyfriend’s ideas. He doesn’t like having to spike your stuff, but if that’s what it takes to get a taste of your milk, could you really blame him?

Introducing LEON KENNEDY — “Does it hurt?… I can help.. Please, mama?”

Your dad had high hopes for you when he adopted you. Not in an academic way, but in the way that would’ve solved his lack of a woman’s touch. He couldn’t be more disappointed that you turned out brainy instead of braindead.

Introducing LEON KENNEDY — “…I get that you want to stand on your own, but you don’t need to worry about finance crap right now. You just graduated.. Why don’t we go buy you some cute stuff instead?”

The lust for the spotlight is a common cause of death, murdering the person you once knew and replacing them with a stranger… You could relate, if you’d realized your husband was already a stranger in the first place. Maybe you wouldn’t have married this vain man then.

Introducing LEON KENNEDY — “…Don’t you realize how you made me look in front of all those people? Stupid. All because you couldn’t smile for a single goddamn picture.”

You’re just a stupid puppy that has no business to be all over him the way you are. He’s too old for you! You’re gross, but.. so is he. It’s only a matter of time before you both realize it.

Introducing LEON KENNEDY — “You little creep.. What the fuck are you doing? I’ve told you not to come in here.”

Approach with extreme caution…

tags: @ivmp

[novamariestark]

Can I get a Dean Winchesterx reader using prompts 9 and 10 off list one and prompt 46 off list two, please?

Summary: A quiet date night with Dean gets interrupted.

Warnings: proofread but there's always a mistake after posting 🤣

Word count: 1229

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Prompts: “LITERALLY EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS IS ILLEGAL!” “Did you just... agree with me?” “I'm actually going to kill you”

[A/N] hope you like 😁

How did we even get here? Sometimes, life takes a strange turn, almost as if the universe decides to have a little fun with you—except you’re not laughing. The night had started so differently. It was supposed to be simple—normal even. Sam had dropped the two of you off at that tiny, run-down bar a few miles outside town, giving you some space for your long-awaited “date night.” You were supposed to have a quiet evening, maybe a few drinks, some laughs. No monsters. No hunts.

But, because some idiot stumbled into the bar, raving about a “monster” they’d seen outside town that meant date night was over. You’d barely finished your drink before you were dragged out, headed straight for where the alleged sighting had taken place. The kicker? Sam had taken the Impala to pick up some supplies, promising to come back later. So here you were, stranded without Baby, crouched behind a row of garbage bins like a couple of amateurs. This is not how you imagined your alone time with Dean would go. You had hoped for something more... normal.

Dean was in front of you, so at least you had something nice to look at. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t look good, but seriously? This was the worst idea he’d had all week—and that was saying something. At first you thought you had heard him wrong but oh no. You had heard him right.

You glanced at him, unable to believe what was coming out of his mouth. “Are you seriously suggesting we rob a cop car?” you asked, trying to keep your voice calm, even though you were two seconds away from smacking some sense into him.

Dean turned to you with that infuriatingly casual grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Borrow,” he corrected, like that made it better. “It’s not illegal if we give it back.”

You stared at him for a moment, your brain struggling to comprehend the sheer level of Dean Winchester logic you were dealing with right now. He had to be joking. But he wasn’t. He was dead serious.

“Okay,” you shot back, your voice dripping with so much sarcasm that it could be visible, “maybe next we can walk into the nearest bank and help ourselves to the entirety of the vault. You know, for funsies.” Dean’s only response was to roll his eyes, still not seeing the problem. You took a deep breath as you waved your hands around for emphasis. “LITERALLY EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS IS ILLEGAL!”

Honestly, you weren’t sure whether to laugh or scream. You were a hunter—a damn good one. You could handle ghosts, demons, and all manner of monsters that most people couldn’t even fathom. And yet, here you were, stuck with this idiot, debating grand theft auto like it was something minute like, who’s turn it was to wash the dishes.

You gave him the deadliest deadpan look you could muster, hoping he’d catch a hint of how ridiculous he sounded. “I’m actually going to kill you.”

Dean’s grin only widened, those green eyes glimmering in the dim light. “But you’ll look good doing it.”

You rolled your eyes, though you could feel the faint heat creeping up your neck. His charm was both your kryptonite and your fuel—it was hard to stay mad when he looked at you like that, but then again, it also made you want to throw something at him. Preferably something heavy.

Glancing back at the cop car, you sighed. This was ridiculous. Utterly insane. The rational part of your brain screamed at you to shut this down, to come up with a better plan. But the other part—the part that had been on countless hunts with Dean, the part that trusted him more than anyone else—knew you were probably going to go along with it anyway.

“Fine,” you sighed, the word leaving your lips before you even knew you thought it.

The second it slipped out, you mentally kicked yourself. Seriously? Fine? Fine? Really? That’s all it took? One look from him, and you were ready to throw common sense out the window? You weren’t fine. Yet somehow, here you were, agreeing to what had to be the stupidest plan Dean Winchester had ever come up with. And that was a long list.

Dean’s voice cut through your spiralling thoughts, pulling you back to the present. “Did you just... agree with me?” His tone was laced with mock disbelief, but that smirk—oh, that damn smirk—said it all. He was enjoying this way too much, and it didn’t help that the glint in his eyes practically sparkled.

You hated that look. The one that always made your stomach do flips, like a rollercoaster you swore you’d never ride again, but kept getting back on anyway. It wasn’t just the smirk. It was Dean. He had this magnetic pull, and no matter how much your brain screamed No!, your heart—and apparently your mouth—tended to betray you in his presence.

“Don’t get used to it,” you muttered, crossing your arms, trying to regain some control over the situation. You weren’t completely rolling over here. You’d follow him into the fire, sure—but you’d still give him hell for it.

Dean winked, already turning his attention back to the car, pulling out his lock-picking tools and started to unlock the car, “Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you,” he whispered, shooting you another wink and that cheeky smirk of his that sometimes you wanted to smack and others, kiss until you both looked like smurfs.

Your heart fluttered in spite of itself as you tried to ignore the way he seemed so damn... charming while committing a felony. His words floated around your head. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you.” Oh, you knew exactly what he was implying. Your lips twitched involuntarily. Damn him.

You crossed your arms, glaring at the back of his head, “What? My criminal record?”

Dean finally got the lock to pop, a click breaking the silence. He stood up, turning back to you with that grin, “See? Easy as pie.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you love it,” he said, with the cocky tone in his voice because he knew he wasn’t wrong. You hated how much he knew it, how much he knew you.

You took a step closer to him, eyes narrowing as you shot him a pointed look. “Just get in the damn car, Winchester.”

Dean chuckled as he pulled the door open, “After you, sweetheart,” he said, gesturing to the passenger seat.

You climbed into the car, the faint smell of cheap air freshener and coffee mixing with the cool air of the night. Dean slid in beside you, looking far too pleased with himself. The engine roared to life, and as the tires crunched over gravel, you couldn’t help but shoot him another sideways glance.

“So, what’s the plan, genius?” you asked, crossing your arms as if that might protect you.

Dean shrugged, “Find the monster, kill the monster, return the car—no harm, no foul.”

“If we end up in jail, you’re explaining this to Sam.” You said, leaning back into the seat, propping your elbow on the door, and resting your chin on your palm.

[penkura]

I don't know how to word it properly but I want to request, Penguin and y/n (who are currently not dating) go on a Wano festival date.

Dressed in yukatas, playing games, winning prizes for each other, hand feeding food/takoyaki to eachother to try, watching fireworks near a cherry tree, a petal falls on one of their heads and they brush it out flustering the other a bit ☺️💕 That classic anime/manga trope.

Omg yes, the classic anime trope with Penguin, my heart. 💚💚 This is so cute thank you for this! I can see Penguin in this situation so well!

When Penguin asked you to be his date for one of the post-battle Wano festivals, you were quick to accept with such a bright smile that he couldn’t help but return it. He didn’t think you’d actually agree at first, but when you did, he was ecstatic! He was worried you didn’t feel the same way or would just say no thanks, but even Law could see how much the two of you liked each other. It was a wonder you hadn’t gotten together yet.

He figures the two of you will just see what happens the day of your date, there’s no definite plan apart from the end of the night. There’s going to be fireworks again and Penguin fully intends on bringing you to the hill with a cherry blossom tree to watch them. He does realize there might be other couples there, but it doesn’t matter. He likes you so much, he wants to make this first date special!

Penguin is so nervous though when he leads you through the festival stalls, holding your hand to keep from losing you in the crowd. He was nervous before you two even took off on your own, but when he sees you in your yukata he felt the blush creep up his face as you smile at him and tell him he looks nice in his blue yukata. He stammers out a thank you and replies in kind, which makes you just as happy.

Penguin watches you stare at a stuffed animal that one of the game stalls has, it’s a cute little penguin, making him grin over it. Maybe you’re thinking about him, or maybe it’s just a cute plush to you. Either way, the way you’re looking at it tells him you want it more than other toys or prizes you’ve seen tonight. When he offers to play the game to get it, you try to tell him not to worry about it.

“I don’t want you to waste your money on it! It’s just a plush, I can—”

“No, it’s not a waste at all!” Penguin’s grin is more then enough to make you relent, as he leads you over to the stall and puts down the money for the game, receiving three balls to throw at the bottles set up in return. “Just watch, I’m great at this!”

He might have over exaggerated his skills, but Penguin gets so close the third time, the stall runner gives him a smaller stuffed penguin as a prize. He feels a little bad that he could get you the bigger plush prize, but the second he hands it to you and tries to apologize, you just give him a kiss on the cheek that makes his face redder than before as you smile.

“This is perfect, thank you, Penguin! He’s adorable!”

You both decide to get some food after that, agreeing on a takoyaki stand nearby the game, Penguin stays to wait for your order while you wander off to another stall for a moment. When you meet back up, Penguin takes your hand again and starts to lead you somewhere you can sit to eat, picking a spot near a cheery tree so you can wait for the fireworks too.

“Did you find something at the stall you went to?”

“Oh, I did!” You give him a grin while you pull a small package from your sleeve and hold it out to him, “It’s a good luck charm for you!”

“You…you didn’t need to spend money on—”

“Well you got me the plushie…it’s only fair you get something too!”

He really can’t argue with you about that, he might even need that good luck charm after tonight. He feels like all his luck is gone anyway, just because you accepted his invitation. Penguin thanks you while he takes the charm, before offering your share of the takoyaki to you. His face goes bright red when you don’t take it from his hand and just eat it right off the skewer, still in his hand, telling him it’s one of the better takoyaki you’ve had.  You laugh a bit at his embarrassed face when you offer a piece to him, which he eats in the same way.

He's so cute.

The rest of your food gets forgotten at you start talking, both glad everyone made it through the fight against Kaido and Big Mom, relieved nothing happened to Law or the other captains, or any of your friends. There so much to be done before your crew takes off, but you’re happy to have a small break, a night to relax and do whatever, especially with Penguin. Once the fireworks start, you watch them for a bit before looking back to your date, smiling as you watch him instead.

You’re beyond happy he asked you out, you had planned to do so before he got to you the day before. The fact he actually asked surprised you, after all the mutual flirting and a few close first kisses, he finally decided to ask you on a date, you went to Ikkaku squealing and non-stop smiling the rest of the day. After the last few years of having a crush on him, it’s nice to see it’s returned, you aren’t worried you’ve wasted time getting to know him better.

You surprise Penguin by brushing a few cherry blossom petals off his hat before placing a kiss on his cheek and laying your head on his shoulder. He knows his face must be redder the candy apples being sold, but he doesn’t mind, not when he puts his arm around your shoulders and kisses your forehead in return.

“This was a nice first date.”

“Yeah…?” You nod as Penguin realizes something, “Wait, ‘first’?”

“Well, yeah,” you glance up in time to see Penguin’s face is red but he’s starting to smile, “I expect we’ll have another one in a few days or something, after we leave Wano. Seems like Captain doesn’t mind it so.”

You shrug while Penguin laughs a bit, nodding.

“We’ll definitely have another date.”