#its worth it and it will make the things you quirk an eyebrow at work

[mxlfoydraco]

I did read the sequel to Welcome to the World of Grey! It was such a relief because while I was satisfied on how the main fic ended I still craved badly to see the maze in France, and to see Harry slowing down and I also just love when in drarry fics you can also see Draco being his own person, growing and stuff. So it felt like a gift reading that fic!

But it also saddens me that Vellavite is not a character that I can read about in other fics (just like this Voldemort lol). I normally don't like OC, but she was such a wonderful character for this world??? And this author touched the topic of adoption which I have always thought it was something that just suited Harry better?? And oh my god, I will never get over that scene with Vellavite crying on Draco's arms and Harry bringing the letters, I AM SOFT.

Yes, exactly! I’ve always thought Harry would be really suited for adoption and that entire process would mean so much to him. I too wish I could read about her and this Voldemort more, that characterization will stay with me for sure. Both their kids were just so special and I loved the continuing parallels between Vellevita, Harry and Voldemort.

I loved the letter scene and adored her moments of softness with her parents, genuinely teared up so many times! Draco bonding with her about her difficulty with emotions and both him and Harry learning to read her so well. And that she didn’t get a love cure treatment, she was still who she was. Now with a sense of safety, being loved and at ease. 🥹❤️

[brailsthesmolgurl]

"It's priced reasonably..."

Preview: The boys' reactions to you buying things on impulse/on a discount! (Let's be fair, we all know they are all rich af, but I personally wanna give it a slice of life touch for them <3)

SYLUS

The big man you call your boyfriend stares at you when you stepped in through the front door with multiple bags loaded in your small palms. You had told him earlier on that you were going for window shopping and he was all too kind to give you his card and to ask you to use whenever you seem fit. However, coming over a huge discount on groceries are rare hence you had decided to use it as you 'deem it fit'. Sylus did noticed his phone's notifications going off a couple of times to alert him about transactions made on his card.

Instead of him looking at it, he would just mute the notifications and continue his humming while he seats himself comfortably on the couch and watches the news broadcast. "You had fun shopping, kitten?" He smirked, walking over to you to help you with the bags. "Next time, bring me along. I would like to see how my kitten makes good use of my card." Yet, you apologised for having to use his card when you told him you were supposedly going for window shopping but the man laughed in response, finding your apology to be adorable. "No more apologies kitten for I am not a stingy man."

RAFAYEL

Whilst on a shopping trip with Rafayel, this man would splurge on you. Apparently in this case, he would take up the role of the impulsive buyer rather than you. You eyeing something for more than 3 seconds? Considered it bought. You mentioning about something more than 3 times? Considered it purchased. You imagining something that may look good on him? Considered it a done deal. This man has no fear nor worry of ever going bankrupt as long as you're satisfied.

Staring at the huge lorry outside of his mansion, unloading everything you had mentioned would definitely put you in a state of shocked. Your boyfriend would approach you casually, wrapping his arm around your waist and nuzzling his nose against your neck. You would definitely question him on his purchasing behaviour but he would pout. "Gift giving and impulse buying goes hand in hand, and I do not see the reason why I should not be spoiling my cutie." Seeing you smile, he would continue. "It is just one of the ways I can show you that I love you, so don't hold me back on that, yeah?"

XAVIER

Grocery shopping with Xavier would be like going on a hunt for rare breeds of wanderers. Anything that are on discount would not be missed, especially with both of your sharp eyesights. However, you and Xavier are not known to be impulsive buyers. More like calculative buyers, the both of you seemingly carry a bit of a girl math's mentality. Other than necessities, anything that is supplemental to the house would be assessed for its usability and longevity. It is a perk the both of you would sometimes fight or bond over.

But if the discount is worth the product, then none of you would get it on the spot. You would have your moments where you would get something out of the blue, without running through your usual girl-math calculations, and you would be met with the quirk of an eyebrow from your boyfriend. "I suppose we lack this in our house." He would secretly do the math in his head but would never say anything to intentionally make you feel bad. "Yeah, we can make this work, no worries." Then, he would pull the same stunt as you, showing you something that he had got out of the blue as well.

ZAYNE

You would give Zayne a headache sometimes. Your childlike curiousity for interesting and new items would prompt Zayne to take on the role of a father figure. He might sometimes go as far as to suspect you may have a slight hint of ADHD in your system, but other than a slight migraine, he finds the quirk in you to be specifically unique to you. And, he never complains. Being the gentleman he is, he accepts you for who you are and tries to work his way around you whenever he could manage.

"Do you think you really need that?" He would point at the stuffed toys you are holding in your arms. Your point being all of them are begging you to adopt them with their big googly eyes. "Y/n, you might just have to pick one for adoption." Your slack-jawed expression would make him sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose slightly before he serves you a reminder of the consequences for your behaviour. "You had adopted exactly 36 plushies, and now, only 5 of them are actually adopted on your bed, while the rest of them are abandoned in your closet. So y/n, which one do you plan to ACTUALLY adopt now hmm?"

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Tastes Like Sugar (Agnes x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Detective Agnes O'Connor is your favorite customer and you might be her favorite citizen.

Words: 3k

Warnings: Swearing

Tags: @sasheemo @buttercandy16 @chlondykebar @toomanylesbiancouples @midnight-lestrange @babybeeelle @dontsblameme

@alexusonfire, this one's for you!

The bell above your door rang out in the quiet morning. The sun was just peeking over the treeline, the air chilled outside. You perked up, pasting a smile on your face, ready to face the day. The first customer.

Depending on which Westview native was coming through the door would dictate how the rest of your day went.

“Gimme one of the chocolate ones.”

Agnes O’Connor. Your day was going to be a good one.

“Sure thing, detective,” you said, flashing her a genuine smile.

The acerbic detective was your favourite customer. You made no secret of it. Your smiles were hers as were your compliments. Her scowl, comforting in its familiarity, was a mainstay of your interaction. But every now and then you saw her lips quirk up and you’d glow with pride

“Busy day?” you asked, plucking one of the chocolate donuts from the display case.

“No more than usual,” she replied.

Her arms crossed over her chest and she was watching you with an intensity that made your heart beat quicken.

“It must get boring living in such a quiet town,” you said, “never thought about moving to the big city?”

“Plenty of crime here,” she replied.

You tucked the donut into a paper bag, ringing her up. Those assessing blue eyes swept over you. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you let her look, knowing all she’d see was someone dazzled by the big dog in town. No one was better than her. She had a reputation around town. Everyone knew the streets were so safe because of her.

“Not with you keeping us safe,” you said.

She pursed her lips but didn’t disagree. Her phone tapped against the card reader, the ding loud between you. You nudged the paper bag over to her.

“Have a good day, detective,” you said, looking at her from under lowered eyelashes.

She lingered for just a moment before she sniffed and turned away. The bell rang behind her as her back disappeared.

^

“Morning, detective.”

Her index finger tapped on the counter. You let your smile reach your eyes, the early mornings worth it when you got to see her. She perused the front case of baked goods, not even bothering to greet you with more than a raised eyebrow. You lent on the counter, grinning at her.

“It’s always nice seeing your smiling face in the morning,” you said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, looking up at you, less than impressed.

“Just that you brighten up the place,” you said.

She muttered something under her breath that you missed. You tilted your head, waiting for her to say something else. Blue eyes flicked up to you before down to the case again.

“Gimme a glazed,” she said.

“Sure thing, detective,” you said.

She crossed her arms over her chest, watching you pull one of the donuts free for her. The paper bag crinkled in your hand as you transferred the donut into it. Pushing it over the counter, you tucked your hair behind your ear. She pulled it over to herself with long fingered hands, making you bite down on your lower lip.

For just a moment, her eyes seemed to focus on your mouth. Then she was turning away.

“See you tomorrow morning, detective,” you called at her retreating back.

She raised a hand to you in a wave before the door shut behind her.

^

For the first time in ages, Agnes wasn’t the first customer you served that morning. A line had formed before the frowning face of your favourite customer entered the cafe. You kept twirling from the counter to the food cabinet to the drinks. You hadn’t worked that hard that early in a while but you kept your smile firmly in place.

“Are you always so bubbly in the morning?”

“Detective.” You brightened and she squinted at you, “I was worried I wasn’t going to see you this morning. Too busy sleeping in?”

“No time to sleep in. You know that,” she replied.

You perked up, bouncing on the balls of your feet. Her head cocked to the side, eyes sweeping over you like she was documenting every little thing you were doing. You let her, wondering what she was reading in you.

“Something sweet to start the morning off right?” you asked.

“What?” She blinked.

You nodded towards the display case. She froze before turning her eyes down to it.

“Gimme one of the powdered ones,” she said after a moment.

“Sugar for someone so sweet,” you said with a grin.

Her fingers brushed against yours as she took the paper bag from you. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip again as your heart beat double time. This time her gaze definitely dipped to your mouth. Heat coursed through your veins.

“See you tomorrow, detective,” you whispered, lowering your gaze.

“I like the blue. It’s pretty,” she said.

You glanced down at your blue dress, missing as she glanced over her shoulder to get one last look at you before disappearing into the morning mist.

^

“Detective, we have to stop meeting like this,” you said as she sauntered through the door.

“Not until I find a better donut place,” she said.

“You mean it’s not my sparkling personality that keeps you coming back?” you asked, pouting at her, “I’m hurt.”

“Deal with it,” she said but you could see the way her lips ticked up into a small smile.

“You keep treating me so badly and I’ll stop being so nice,” you said.

“I’d like to see you try.”

You let your eyes wander over her body, thinking about all the ways you could try being not so nice. All the ways you could be naughty with her. Your cheeks heated and you were the first to look away. Her chuckle was low, a raspy vibration in her chest. You shivered, eyes darting up to her again.

“What can I get you, detective?” you asked.

“Chocolate sprinkle,” she said without even looking, “it’s going to be a long day.”

“Nothing the great Detective O’Connor can’t handle, I’m sure,” you said.

You smiled softly, eyes meeting hers over the top of the counter. A scowl settled over her face but you didn’t let it deter you. You never did. You knew you were going to break through that tough exterior one day.

“There you go,” you said, pushing it over the counter.

“Thanks,” she said.

Her hand closed over it, fingers covering yours. Lingering, your gaze caught on hers, the moment stretching out. You wanted to live in it, for the moment never to be broken. It was the kind of moment you’d be thinking about long after she was gone.

She pulled her hand back, pursing her lips. You didn’t say anything, simply nodding to her as she stepped away from the counter. She lingered for another moment before she spun on her heels and stalked out of the cafe. The sigh that passed over your lips was dreamy.

“Can I get an oat milk latte?”

You blinked, turning your attention to the next customer.

“Sure thing!”

^

You were humming to yourself as you went through your opening ritual, getting the cafe ready for the morning rush. You weren’t paying as much attention as you should have, not hearing the bell above the door when it was shoved open.

“You weren’t here yesterday.”

“Shit.” You jumped, pressing your hand to your racing heart, “Agnes. We’re not open yet.”

“I don’t care,” she said, arms crossed over her chest, glaring at you.

“Okay, well, you’re going to have to wait for me to finish up before I can get you a donut,” you said.

“You weren’t here yesterday,” she repeated, hoisting one of the chairs off the table closest to you.

“Did you miss me, detective?” You flashed her an impish grin.

“That boy they had working,” she ground out through gritted teeth, “wouldn’t shut up.”

“I never shut up,” you laughed.

She grumbled something under her breath, slamming down another chair. You shook your head, sliding closer to her.

“Just admit it. You missed me,” you said, hip bumping against hers.

Her arm caught you around your waist, hand pressed to your hip. Though the fabric of your dress, her palm was burning. Your breath caught, turning your face towards her. She was close enough for you to feel her breath ghost over your skin, those blue eyes burning as they looked down at you.

“Where were you?” she asked, voice lowering into something that felt dangerous.

“It was my day off,” you replied, breathless as you stared into her eyes, “I was probably still in bed when you were here.”

Her gaze darkened and you shivered. She squeezed your hip before she released you.

“Don’t do that again,” she told you.

“What? Take a day off?” you laughed, “I think I’m allowed to do that.”

“Don’t,” she said.

“You really can’t get on without me, huh?”

Her fingers reached up, curling around the ends of your hair, giving it a tug. Your lips parted and her eyes flicked down to them. Your tongue ran along your lower lip, watching her gaze follow it.

“Chocolate donut, detective?” you asked.

Her hand fell to her side and you stepped away from her, winking at her over your shoulder. The paper bag crumpled in her hand when you passed it to her, knuckles grazing against one another.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, detective,” you whispered.

Her hand slid over your hip again, leaving you with fire running through your veins.

^_

“Fancy running into you here.”

Agnes shoved her aviators further up her nose, staring out at the crowd. Leaning against the wall in the shade, she stared out at the Westview crowd. You nudged her shoulder, standing beside her in an attempt to get out of the sun.

“I brought you something,” you said when you didn’t get a response.

“Is it a donut?” she asked, sounding less than impressed.

“Better,” you said, “lemonade.”

You held out one of the cool cups of lemonade you’d bought as you’d walked through the fair. You’d caught sight of her quickly, a brooding shadow on the outskirts of the town’s fun. There was something about her that always drew your eye, even in a crowd.

“You brought me lemonade?” she asked, still not looking towards you.

“Breakfast of champs,” you chirped.

“It’s not breakfast time,” she replied.

“Well, you didn’t come in for a donut so I know you haven’t had any today,” you said.

She sighed but took the cup from you. You grinned, watching her down the drink and crush the cup in her fist. It shouldn’t have made you feel hot, but the cool drink was a relief as you chugged it down. Her chuckle was filthy in your ear.

“So you’re keeping tabs on me now?” she asked.

“It’s not my fault you’ve become such an integral part of my day,” you said, “if I’m not allowed to take a day off then neither are you.”

“I’d hardly call this a day off,” she said.

“You don’t come by the cafe, it’s a day off from me,” you said, pouting at her.

“Am I not allowed a day off from you?” she asked.

“Nope.” You popped the p obnoxiously.

She humphed but didn’t disagree. When she shifted, her shoulder came to rest against yours, warmth seeping into your skin. You settled closer to her, watching the crowd.

“Sometimes I wonder what I’m still doing in a town like this,” you said, “and then the fair comes to town and I wonder how I could ever leave.”

“You thinking about leaving?” she asked, voice gruff.

You looked over, catching her watching you. Meeting her gaze you smiled.

“Not anymore,” you said.

“Why not?” she asked.

“I found something worth staying for.”

She didn’t say anything, but her shoulders seemed to relax. You pressed your shoulder more insistently against hers, turning back to watch the crowd. Her fingers brushed against the back of your hand.

Your head came to rest on her shoulder.

^

“Long time no see,” you chirped when Agnes came through the door.

Her smile was surprisingly free of irony and sarcasm. You brightened, our own smile taking over your face in response to hers. She lent on the counter, one elbow, looking at you from under hooded eyes.

“Best view in the town, right here,” she said.

“Flatterer.” But your cheeks heated.

“Gimme one of the chocolate sprinkles,” she said, “I want something sweet in my mouth.”

You opened your mouth but no words came out. She chuckled, reaching out to curl her finger around the bottom of your hair. She tugged until you shivered.

“Have I finally managed to shut you up?” she asked.

“No,” you squeaked.

“You sure?” she asked.

“Just the donut?” you asked in return.

“What else you got on offer?” she asked.

“Something sweeter.”

She tugged on the ends of your hair again before letting you go. Her smirk had your cheeks heating again but you wiggled your eyebrows. Her chuckle was warm and delicious, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Perhaps when my shift is done,” she said, “I’m sure you have plenty of suggestions of things I could taste.”

“Are you flirting with me, detective?” you asked, leaning over the counter, not able to stop yourself.

“That’s quite a serious charge,” she said.

“Enjoy your donut,” you said, sliding it across to her, “I hope it’s sweet enough for you.”

“I’m sure it will tide me over until I can find something sweeter to occupy my time with.”

She left you behind the counter breathless and throbbing with need and a full day’s work ahead of you. You cursed her very existence. And hoped she’d be back soon.

^

The door opened seconds after you’d flipped the sign. You laughed, stepping back, giving Agnes the room she needed to barrel into the cafe. Her hand caught yours, dragging you after her. You went easily, just enjoying the feeling of her palm against yours.

“Someone’s had a good day,” you said.

“Shut up,” she growled.

“Or not,” you muttered.

“Is anyone else here?” she asked.

“I’m the last one,” you replied.

“Good.”

She pushed open the door into the store room, not listening to your arguments about how she shouldn’t be back there, that if anyone found her you’d be in so much trouble. Your back was shoved into a shelf. The door closed with a click.

“Can I help you with something, detective?” you asked, smirking when she lent back against the door.

“I believe I was offered something sweeter than a donut,” she said, “I’ve come to collect.”

“You’re going to have to get a little closer. Might be hard to reach from all the way over there.”

Her hand landed on the shelf beside your head, leaning into your personal space. You tilted your chin up, lips parting. Blue eyes dragging down to them, darkening as they focused on your mouth. You waited, the moment stretching.

“Well?” you asked when you thought she was never going to move.

Her lips pressed to yours, cutting off any other words you might have wanted to say. When you’d imagined kissing her, in those late night fantasies and sunlit daydreams, it had never felt like this. You’d imagined her in all kinds of scenarios, soft and romantic, desperate and needy, hot and heavy, but this was so different.

The self possession she carried through daily life was really coming through. It was commanding, pressing you back against the shelves, digging into your spine. Your hands landed on her shoulders, fingers digging in, dragging her closer, opening under her. She growled, low in her throat, her hand grasping your hip as she slotted her leg between yours. Your hand curled around the back of her neck, holding her in place as you whimpered into her mouth. She nipped at your lower lip before her tongue soothed over it.

“Agnes,” you groaned, muffled against her mouth.

“Hush, hon,” she said, “I’m enjoying my sweet treat.”

You surrendered to her, letting her taste as deeply as she wanted. You clutched at her, wanting more of her. You’d been waiting so long for her you were hardly going to stop her now. Even if the shelving was digging into your back and you should be locking up the cafe and cleaning up. She surrounded you, giving you no chance to escape, as if you’d wanted that, crowding you more insistently against the shelf.

“Taste so fucking good,” she growled.

You arched against her, the whine coming from the back of your throat lost as she kissed you again. Dragging her closer, you pressed against her, feeling every one of her curves against yours. The noise she made was addictive, better than any sugar could be. Your hand slid up under the soft flannel shirt she had on, seeking out the warm skin you knew would be under there. Your nails scraped over her skin, the noise she made gratifying when she shoved you against the shelving harder. Her leg, still between yours, pressed against you until the throbbing heat felt like it would overwhelm you.

You whimpered when she pulled away. Her thumb ran along your lower lip, eyes dark and smouldering, but her lips were pulled up in a smirk. Your tongue flicked over the pad of her thumb. Her low chuckle was throaty, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You certainly know how to deliver on your promises,” she said.

“What do you mean?” you asked, breathless and desperate to get back to the kissing portion of the afternoon.

“I’ve never had anything as sweet as you,” she replied.

You could have melted right there.

“Do you want to get dinner?” you asked.

“Yes, hon. I do.”

You slid your arms around her neck, drawing her back to you. Your lips ghosted over hers, giggling when she tried to strain forward, wanting to press hers to yours.

“I need to lock up,” you whispered, keeping her just far enough that she couldn’t kiss you again.

“Hurry,” she groused, stepping back from you.

You hurried.

[spaghettiposts]

Picture to Burn

Cairo Sweet x Reader

Summery: You should've known better than to fall for Cairo, your friend who seemed to have no interest in you, but it only takes one drink to mess things up and get you into her bed.

Warnings: Attempts at writing, angst, miscommunication, slight sexual content, underage drinking, Miller being an inconvenience, and heartbreak

Word count: 3.3k yikes

A/n: Hm, not sure how I feel about this one but its been sitting in my drafts long enough, might need a part 2...

“What do you look for in an ideal partner?” Cairo furrowed her eyebrows, her pencil caught between her lips. Your question threw her off track, and she grumbled softly as she erased a mistake. She glanced up at you, annoyed by your upside-down gaze and the way your lips quirked.  

“Someone who doesn’t have a camera hanging around their neck all the time.” She retorted, eyes drifting back down to her notes. 

You perked up, grasping the camera that was indeed resting on your neck. “Seriously?” You scoffed, settling back into the blanket. 

Cairo smirked behind her pages, taking full satisfaction in your crestfallen demeanor. “Oh, and people who aren’t into Marvel.” She added, chuckling at your deadpan reaction.

Assuming the conversation was over, she resumed writing, scribbling random thoughts only to look away and meet your raised brow, tied with an expectant look. God you had to be needy. With a heavy sigh, she shut her book. Typical, you rarely gave her time to properly invest in her writing. 

“Fine…I guess for them to make a good income? You know, enough to support me and my writing. Or at least put up with it.” Cairo explained with a shrug, nose scrunching at the way your eyes softened. Ignoring it, she pointed to you with her pen, hitting your nose, “And you are ten grand in debt, unfortunately missing the cut, so sorry.” She said with a faux pout. 

Once again, you scoffed, pushing her away and murmuring about how unserious she could be. Cairo fell back on the blanket with a laugh, feeling anything but apologetic, though your smile gave you away. 

As you reached into your bag for your notebook, Cairo assumed she might finally get some writing done. Quiet time was her favorite time with you - if you had to be there, which she preferred if you weren’t, totally. Either way, the sound of you fiddling with your camera grounded her; enough so she could focus on her work again. 

Initially, Cairo found certain quirks about you irritating, but as she spent more time with you, she began to see them in a new light. The small curses that left your lips when your camera wasn’t working properly, the spontaneous photos you snapped of Cairo - they became endearing rather than bothersome. And above all, your unwavering support and genuine admiration for her writing. Something Cairo needed more than she’d ever admit. 

With each word of encouragement and every heartfelt compliment, Cairo's heart swelled, in a dreadful way. It was more than admiration or appreciation; it was something more, a feeling she couldn't deny, no matter how hard she tried.

Though she continued to brush off your advances and maintain a facade of indifference, yet Cairo couldn't ignore you whenever your eyes met hers, the way your smile seemed reserved for her alone.

Yes, you were her friend, but that was all. Nothing was worth the risk of ruining things now. Especially if you didn’t truly mean what you spoke.

“Have you read anything new lately?” You asked, your back hunched over as you picked with the old thing. Honestly, Cairo couldn’t see why you still put up with it, the damn thing broke all the time. But still, it was a classic model from the 50s, an heirloom from your grandfather, which she could respect. 

Her hand reached over and shoved at your back, smiling in satisfaction when you straighten your back, shooting a glare in her direction. 

“I finished Lolita, it was on Miller's list for its themes of controversy. I wouldn’t read it again though.” She mumbled, “I did pick up this new book called Rebecca, it’s allegedly a psychological thriller but what’s so dark about being haunted by your partner's ex?”

You scoffed, doodling some part of the camera in your journal, “A lot.” 

“Doesn’t seem too bad, I mean they’re dead right? Can’t do anything.” 

“I wouldn’t risk crossing a paranormal creature like that.” You commented, with a shrug of your shoulders. Cairo hummed, watching you work. When you made no further comments she returned back to her notebook, spending the hour before class working separately. 

—

Despite Mr. Miller's evident excitement towards writings of controversy, apparently, that wasn’t the case with Cairo. It was a mistake, a stupid mistake but a mistake she assumed a man like him would love. How wrong was she? 

A student longing for their middle-aged professor was where the line was drawn. The hypocrisy of it all made Cairo want to laugh, who was he to dismiss her paper that way? She knows the other students, the other students who wrote worse. The book Miller had them read was even worse. 

But no, what was done was done. And now she was convinced Miller thought she was coming onto her, just what she needed. Cairo wouldn’t be surprised if he reported her and there was suddenly a new switch in teachers. As annoying as that’d be, she didn’t have time to dwell on it. 

Instead of a clear schedule, there was now an overdue assignment, dragging her grade down that she had to redo. All. Over. Again. 

Oh how she wanted to scream at that, a relaxing week gone. 

“Stupid fucking Miller…” Cairo muttered, walking with haste to her car. Once inside she slammed the door, pressing her head against the wheel. A knock on her window startled the girl, causing her to look up with a huff, her eyes widening once she realizes who it is.

“Are you alright?” You ask, waiting for her to roll down the window. She does just that, wiping her face with her arm. Was she crying? “You look…off.” Typically your way of saying she looked like shit. Mascara smeared and all she couldn’t blame you. 

Deciding not to answer your question, Cairo motions to the passenger seat, tossing her bag carelessly into the back seat.  “Get in.” 

“But I already have a ride-“

“And I’m offering…just come inside.” She grits between her teeth, letting out an impatient sigh. She doesn’t know why she needs you in the car with her but doesn’t give herself time to dwell on it, when you’re slipping into the seat next to her. 

Your posture is tense and that bothers her. She didn’t mean to come off…abrasive. Taking her eyes off yours, she starts the car, preparing herself for the upcoming conversation. You quickly buckle yourself in without another word. 

The car ride could’ve been more comfortable, which usually it was but your consistent nervous tapping was starting to bother the brunette. Wordlessly she threw her stapled papers in your lap, you opened your mouth to speak but Cairo beat you to it, mumbling a small ‘read it’.

You flipped through her work carefully and Cairo didn’t have the heart to look at your reaction, not this time. It was different with you judging her work, not that you judged, words of compliments spilled out of your lips every time you did read something of hers, tugging those same old heartstrings Cairo was starting to get sick of. Unlike those other moments, this time, it was different as you flipped silently through her work. Did she really screw it up this bad? 

She heard a hiss leave your lips and if she weren’t driving the car her head would’ve snapped in an instant. Turns out you were only focusing on the grade and notes Miller left, better yet lack of. 

You bit the inside of your cheek, slowly sliding the papers back to her, pursing your lips. Cairo huffed, removing one hand from the steering wheel to snatch them back, throwing them harshly towards the back. 

So, she was in a bad mood. You thought, hands clutching at your knees, swallowing dryly. 

“So?” Cairo asks, her voice on the verge of a shout. 

“Well, it was interesting. I mean I skimmed through it so I don’t know, your writing was good- like always.” You spoke rapidly, a nervous trait. 

“God Y/n, if you thought it was bad you could’ve just said so!” She blurted exasperatedly.

“I don’t! Cairo you know I adore everything you write, this just caught me off guard. Doesn’t mean I like it any less, I promise.” 

A silence loomed over the car, and you shrank into your seat even further if that was even possible. Cairo let out a sigh, losing her grip on the steering wheel. 

“Sorry, I'm just feeling…” Cairo's voice trailed off as she struggled to find the right words. She didn’t want to fight, not again. The guilt weighed heavy on her chest every time she saw that deflated look on your face. She couldn’t keep pushing you away, that wasn’t fair. But she also couldn’t shake that feeling of uncertainty she felt around you, about what she wanted, when you were what she wanted, “frustrated with this assignment.”

“And that’s okay,” You reassured her, your voice as gentle as ever, as you reached out to take her hand. Cairo’s gaze flickered down to your hands, feeling a mix of comfort and apprehension, before reluctantly allowing them to intertwine, giving you a small squeeze. “I’m here for you if you need me, anytime.” 

Suddenly, the car felt much tighter than before, the lump in her throat growing heavier. She wasn’t sure when her eyes started to water or why your touch felt like a burden, but she knew she couldn’t hold it any longer. It all felt too intimate too quickly. Silently, she withdrew her hand, placing it back in her lap oblivious to the hurt expression on your face. 

Yet, she couldn’t ignore the own ache in her chest. 

—

A bright white light blurred endlessly in Cairo's eyes, slow and unresponsive to everything else that wasn’t her assignment. She fought tirelessly at the screen in front of her, the now blank page mocking her to no end. In the midst of it all Cairo recalled how easy her first essay had been to create, only to be dismissed. 

With a huff and slam at her laptop, she tossed the thing aside, landing back on her bed with a grunt. She separates herself from her work, wiping at her burning eyes with her hands. To say Cairo was frustrated was an understatement. After driving around with you for a while she let you go, dropping you off. 

A decision Cairo started to regret. 

Once again, her parents were out of town doing who knows what. It was something Cairo was used to, but it still bothered her more than she’d admit. Some company would be nice, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could take rewriting that assignment anyway. 

After mulling it over in her head, she lifted herself up, to open her phone. Her eyes remained locked on your contact, holding a photo of you and Cairo at the library. While Cairo had her nose stuck in a book, you looked at her like she was everything and more. The picture only made her stomach gnaw uneasily, but still, with much hesitance she dialed your number, listening to it ring.

“Hey, can you come over?” 

An astonishing ten minutes was all it took for you to appear at her door. Cairo smiled at you, tugging you in. She noticed you carrying a small plastic bag but didn’t comment on it, dragging you up to her room.

“I brought you something.” You said, softly closing the door behind you. Cairo sat herself on the bed, tilting her head curiously. “A lot of things actually.” 

How Cairo managed to miss the balloon you had brought in with you, reading in big bold letters: ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ was totally behind her. Cairo raised a questioning eyebrow and you explained for her writing losses, and Cairo didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or punch you. 

Fortunately, you reached into the bag before she could consider the latter, pulling out a familiar bottle of scotch that had Cairo’s lips contorted into one of mischief and pleasure. “And I figured you could use a drink, or two.” You muttered thoughtfully, tossing the bottle on her lap. Cairo traced the bottle with her fingers before twisting it open with a ‘pop’.

You moved around the room, searching for glasses you could use. Spotting two clean ones on the dresser you grabbed them, and settled down next to Cairo, leaving a respectable distance between you. Cairo already had her lips on the bottle by the time you poured the drinks and you raised an amused eyebrow, handing her the whiskey-filled shot. She downed it impressively and you attempted to do the same, failing quite miserably when the burn settled. 

Cairo laughed and you settled further into her bed, grumbling embarrassedly. And it had only taken two more shots for you to really feel the effects, and you could tell Cairo was starting to feel them too, a giddy smile plastered on her face that never seemed to leave. Your shoulders untensed noticeably from how serene the air felt, wishing that every moment with Cairo didn’t feel like walking a tightrope. 

Yet there was still something there – a lingering tension of sorts that no matter how hard you tried wouldn’t leave. You assumed Cairo felt the same when you met her eye and a soft smile tugged on her lips, one that you couldn’t help but return.

Time seemed to blur with the buzz of alcohol in your body, everything having been so peacefully quiet till Cairo shifted against the headboard, lips lingering on the bottle. Her gaze met yours and your stomach stirred. Not knowing why, foolishly, you looked away. Never had Cairo looked in your direction with so much fervor, and you’d be damned if she started now, under the influence when she didn’t mean it–couldn’t mean it.

But your heart would always betray you, now more than ever. So when she took another swing, you knew you were a goner by the way her eyes darkened and her teeth shone. Your own eyes remained locked to her lips and you swallowed dryly, feeling your heart race because she was staring back the same way. 

Cairo didn’t seem bothered, chuckling under her breath as she tucked the bottle away, then swiftly advancing on you the next second, giving into what you both so desperately wanted.

She stumbles into your lap messily, thighs encircling your waist and you groan when she squeezes, placing your hands on her thighs to anchor yourself. Cairo took the opportunity to trail kisses down your collarbone, her lips moving frantically, eager to kiss every inch of you. You let yourself get lost in the sensation, trying to block out that part of your mind that tells you, this is wrong.

Cairo stifles a moan when your nails dig into her hips, grounding her and you both shiver at the contact. Your hand slides along her side, encouraging her, and she does just that, moving slowly against your thigh. Then the room changes completely when her noises become louder, and the pit in your stomach grows hotter. And you have to take a moment to separate yourselves, breathing out of sync. 

“What are we doing, Cairo?” You whisper affectedly, rubbing your hands along her inner thighs and Cairo sighs. 

“Whatever you want me to do.” She whispers back in the same tone, bringing your foreheads together. “Guide me.” 

Despite her words, she’s the one to bring your mouths together first. It’s hesitant and slow, and you both sigh. Her hips press harder against you, and you break the kiss with a grunt. “More.” And that’s enough for you to kiss her again, in a much more heated kiss than before.

Your head is spinning in pleasure as Cairo’s hips grind against yours. With shaky hands you squeeze her skin, taking control of her movements and slowing them down. Cairo whines against your lips, begging and you realize you’re completely weak against her and give her what she needs, meeting her thrusts. 

She comes undone on your thighs next, hips spasming, and gasping against your lips as she comes down from her high. Her body goes limp and she falls on your shoulder for support. You press a kiss into her hair, rubbing her back with your hand to soothe her, not really caring if the act is more intimate for whatever this is. 

You switch your positions to lay her to rest on the bed, pressing soft lingering kisses on her face as you do, and she curls in beside you blissfully ignorant to what had happened, and you wonder if she’d still be like this with you if this never did occur. 

Still, you hold her tighter, blinking as the past minutes replayed in your head, trying to make sense of the situation. Your thoughts only come to a halt when Cairo’s lips are back on your neck, and you shake away the goosebumps because you know you can’t do this again without truly knowing. 

“Cairo—what, what did we do? What was this?” Your voice cracks through the silence, a lump forming in your throat. 

“Sex,” Cairo states matter-of-factly, continuing to kiss your neck, but it has your heart dropping to your stomach and suddenly you feel sick. Maybe it was just the alcohol or the heartbreak, or both. Either way, it had you pulling away.

“But did it mean anything?” You ask hesitantly, sitting up next to take her hands off you. Cairo huffs in frustration but doesn’t stray her eyes away from you, the action only making it all the more difficult to ask. “At all—did you feel something?” 

“Baby I felt many things,” She chuckles incredulously, raising an eyebrow.  “What's with all the questions?” 

Her wandering hands make it hard to focus on your words, each touch just a reminder of what you had done just a moment ago. You tentatively take her hands into your own, catching her by surprise. “I just mean- well you’ve never…shown or said you’ve wanted to be with me this way.” 

“Just because I had sex with you doesn’t mean I want to be with you. It’s just sex, Y/n.”

You choke in disbelief, feeling a wave of soberness wash over and you let go of her hands, similarly to how Cairo did earlier.

Not really knowing what to do or say, you shuffle away from her, noticing her torn expression. It hurts you to look at her, so you don’t, choosing to face anything—the ceiling, her vanity. But everything ties back to her, and you hated yourself for allowing this to happen. 

A wave of silence passes you before you have the strength to repeat something, “Right”. You manage to utter, your voice trembling.  

When you make a move to leave, Cairo touches your wrist to stop you and you freeze. “It’s late, and you’re drunk. Stay the night.”

You take a shallow breath, shaking your head in denial. “I don’t think I should.”

“I wasn’t asking.” 

“Of course not.” You mutter, sitting back against the headboard. Cairo doesn’t question the attitude, only sparing a concerned glance before moving off the bed. Her movements are sloppy as she makes her way to the bathroom, holding a new pair of clothes. 

You don’t register when she returns, but it’s long afterward. Neither of you says a word, choosing to settle in silence. There’s a palpable tension when she places a pillow between you, a silent barrier.

You want to scream, to say something, to remind her who initiated it. Tell her that if anything, you should be uncomfortable with her. But that would be a lie. Your head continues to pound throughout the night, and you decide it’s better to sleep it off, unaware of how deeply affected both of you are.

The next day, Cairo wakes up to an empty bed.

[iid-smile]

★ — ME GUSTAS TU

서로 부끄러워서 아무 말도 못하는

너에게로 다가가고 싶은데

content — midoriya izuku x gn!reader, friends to lovers, confession, idk if this is ooc or not, he cries a little bit, you kiss his cheek

wc — >0.6k

dec 7 ★ event masterlist — for the lovely @17020 !

a/n — pls dont question the ending... i know its bad too but its 2am i literally had no idea how to end this 🙏

the summer trees have lost all of their leaves, and the once green grass is now covered in a thick sheet of snow. izuku feels nostalgic wandering through the quiet park with you, now a common pass time between the two of you.

this exact spot held memories of your firsts together. the first time you pronounced yourselves as 'friends', the first time you hung out together, the first time he's ever called you by your given name.

now, his first confession. and last, hopefully. right here, he could overwrite history completely. just the thought of being anything more than friends sending his mind into overdrive. six months have passed, and six months' worth of feelings was becoming too much to handle.

what should he say? what can he say? should he say it in public for everyone to see? no! then he'd crawl himself into a hole and never see the light of day again.

"it sure is snowy, huh?" he blurts out, in an attempt to make any sort of conversation. no response. embarrassing... embarrassing!

you're not giving him anything to work with. he had this entire moment planned out in his notebook, all for nothing. it would be horrific if he went and confessed without a second thought. (that's exactly what he did)

with a mental countdown first. three. two. one...!

"i like you!"

"i like... you..."

you both confessed at the same time. what a way to be pros at bad timing. well, he said it louder, so your words trailed off a bit, but he heard you. he has to be dreaming right now. or maybe it was magic. or maybe it was a quirk, and at some point, he'd wake up to find himself in the middle of a battle.

your eyebrows furrow. "huh?"

"huh?!" okay, now he's freaking out.

the two of you just stare at each other in complete silence. izuku has pinched himself about twenty-three times in the span of... five seconds. that's got to be a world record. he wants to hide, he wants to run away. he'll do anything to not face you straight like this.

"are you... crying?" you tilt your head, trying to get a better look at his face as he shies away from you.

warm streaks of tears dripping down his cheeks, an abrupt contrast to the chilly air. "n-no, no, i'm not."

your sullen expression is quickly replaced by a teasing grin. "you're crying, aren't you?"

your cold fingers pinch at his cheeks. "no— ah! your hands are cold!" this was humiliating. crying in front of his crush was something he was not prepared for.

"so we like each other?"

"that's what we both said, isn't it?"

"was it?"

you giggle, twisting your fingers around each other as you struggle to hold eye contact. though your reaction wasn't as big as his, you were just as flustered. your cheeks were burning and an odd amount of sweat starting to build up on your hands.

being a risk taker wasn't such a bad thing if you knew good would come out of it. you shuffle closer to him, both nervous and frisson with your grand idea. a little peck on his cheek. nothing much, nothing that you would believe would push the boundaries too much.

or at least that's what you thought before you saw he was frozen in time. literally. he wasn't moving, eyes stuck on yours, and mouth agape. "zu..?" you try to touch him, tugging on his outstretched hand. as if he was a cardboard cutout, he tilted further back. and further... and further... until he was on his back on the ground, unresponsive. "izuku?!" did you break him?

[izudeeilo]

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You can study me

Sero hanta smau

volley-ball player sero x art student fem!reader, no quirks au, college au.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Senior year is finally here! You thought that this time, the teachers would be more lenient with you and your classmates, but not at all. In fact, they even got stricter... They assigned you a half year-long work, which would be worth 30% of your final grade. What does the work consist of, you ask? Making a complete study of the life of a student you need to pick and paint it.

But...you can't pick a friend.

Part .1 • Part.3

Part 2

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Ochaco was right when she said this was something you had to see. All of them were really talented and you couldn’t keep your eyes away from the ball flying back and forth between the two teams. You were sitting on the bleachers, book and paper ready in your lap for a good moment to capture. For the time being you had only managed to sketch some quick dynamic poses of the boys.

They were a bit too quick for you to take at least a minute to sketch out something more detailed.

This sport was amazing to see but to practice yourself? a hard no. You were convinced you’d be on the floor sweating and dying before the second set would start. Your stamina wasn’t the worst, but it wasn’t the best either and you could see from how much they ran and jumped in such a small space that this would exhaust you more than your school work.

And that’s saying something…

The referee suddenly whistled, signifying the end of the first 2 sets. Mina, who you now knew was the team’s manager, handed them water bottles and towels. Hanta hung his towel around his neck before taking a long sip from his bottle. After he finished, his eyes scanned the bleachers before landing on you. He smiled and winked.

You smile back, a little taken back as you feel your cheeks get a little warm. You wave your hand slightly at him. He turned his head back at Mina and their coach standing next to her, listening to whatever they had to say.

Before you know it they went back on the court, finishing their last sets.

The last whistle echoed in the gym and you whipped your head back to the court and clapped your hands. They all let out a sigh of relief, Kaminari laying on the floor and Kirishima soon joining him.

The coach approached Hanta who lifted his shirt up revealing his lean torso to wipe off the sweat of his face. They began talking and your hand suddenly moved on its own towards your paper. Eyes going up and down as you quickly sketch out the pose he was in.

You finally stop going back to him to now focus more on the details.

Drawing thicker lines on the outside of his body, some small shadows here and there to add more depth. Hair strands falling onto his face, ball in his left hand leaning onto his hip—

“How’s it going?” a voice suddenly said, startling you.

You look up, quickly hiding the drawing with your arms as best as you could. Your body leaning forward awkwardly as you smile.

”Hiii, um great?” you chuckled.

”Did you sketch out some things? Did I good ?” He threw multiple questions at you and wiggled his eyebrows in a teasing way.

Looking the other way, you laugh at his antics.

”Y’all were quite quick but yeah I did draw some things and you did great, amazing even!” You turn your head back. “Your reflexes were crazy out there, you must have trained so hard.” you ramble out.

He looks at your face with a sweet smile on his face and you continue rambling about the game. He tilts his head and asks.

”Can I take a peak?”

You stop talking and meet his eyes “take a peak at what?”

”Your sketches ?” he laughs.

Oh right. You forgot all about them while you were talking his ear off.

”Oh..yeah uh here” you smile awkwardly, handing him the paper and turning your head, kind of embarrassed knowing you chose that moment to draw.

He takes the paper in his hand and scans the multiple drawings, smiling as he recognises his friends. He turns the paper over to reveal the more detailed sketch you had drawn.

His eyes widen slightly as his thumb gently runs over the lines.

“Shit that’s…that’s fucking insane. I look so good” he laughs as he looks at you.

You laugh with him. “You think?”

“Of course, man, that's the greatest I’ve ever looked. You really have amazing skills, you’re going to kill that study, I just know it” he wraps his arms on your shoulder, hugging you from the side.

”You mind if I take a pic of this?” he asks.

”No go ahead!” you answer, relieved that he likes it.

“Wait until my ma hears about her son getting drawn by a pretty girl” he says as he runs off chuckling.

Your mouth hangs open before you yell at him. “Your mom?! Hanta don’t you dare—“ You grab your things and try to catch up with him.

After a few seconds, you stop outside, hands resting on your knees as you try to catch your breath. Looking up, you see Hanta way too far from you, waving his hand at you in a teasing way before disappearing behind some bushes.

You roll your eyes and begin walking to your car, which was parked not too far away.

You arrive at your apartment and are greeted by the smell of warm food. You hang your jacket on the hanger and take your shoes off.

”What’s tonight's menu?” you say.

Two heads pop from the kitchen door.

”We made some chicken stew!” Ochaco and Himiko say at the same time.

“Oh I can’t wait” you smile as you go put your things back in your room. Putting up your hair in a more comfortable hairstyle, you make your way to the living room and sit on the couch with the girls.

“What do y'all want to watch tonight?” Himiko says clicking on the Netflix icon.

”I heard that the Addams Family is on Netflix now” you suggest.

”For real— Perfect, let's watch it!” Ochaco says excitedly as you all begin eating your food.

a/n a shorter chapter this time sorry! i wasn't home last week, so i couldn't work on anything 😭

[yourstrqly]

˗ ˏ ˋ 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐑, 𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓

Pairings : Logan Sargeant x reader (platonic)

in which Logan and you have a day off work in London and decide to go to build a bear, creating each a stuffy for the other as you did as children.

— only friend i need series

"Come on Logs, live a little", you said, pressing the blonde to agree to your spontaneous idea of the day. "it's a fantastic idea, I always have those, and i still can't believe you've lived here for what? Two years now? and still didn't do it. shame, mate."

Said man, who sat opposite of you, took another bite of his somewhat healthy breakfast choice his trainer would've had a wet dream about, all while starring in disbelief at you, the one who's bright smile focused on the plate of waffles, covered in strawberries and cream.

He shallowed, opening his mouth to disagree with the idea but nothing came to his mind, letting you grin in excitement. "I— well, fine, but don't you think we're a bit too old for build a bear, y/n?"

"Buh, since when do we do age appropriate stuff?", you questioned, thinking back about the many times you rode rollercoasters for children, watched movies in the cinema for zero to six years old and did other things people considered then to be made for children. "it's cute, saw a tiktok about it."

"You and your tiktok obsession — when did you even watch it? We were out all day yesterday."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Are you that old, sargeant? You were in the gym after we had lunch at mine."

"Yeah true", the man sheepishly agreed, remembering the cardio and weight session, before his blue eyes brightened, signaling you that he had an idea — for the better or worse, you never knew with him.

"Please enlighten me, what's on your mind?"

Logan's smile widened, pupils blooming. "How about I build you a stuffy and you for me like we did when we were younger?"

"Yes please, that has to the best idea you've had in a while, Logs", you giggled. "Let's eat and then we'll make our way there, its in that mall not so far away from here."

With that, you both ate in silence, listing to the gossip around you — an older woman complained to her son about back pain, a couple fought about having another baby (the woman didn't want another one while the man was adapt on growing the family) and a man in his forties tried to flirt with the waiter —, Logan and you sent each other looks and quirked eyebrows, whenever the topic grew hotter and juicier.

As you shallowed the last bite of your delicious breakfast, Logan already waved the waiter over to pay for today's expenses — since both of you worked, you took turns with the payment, even though the racer tried to take the check whenever you were eating in a somewhat bougier place, saying that he made more and wanted to be a gentleman which would get him a snort out of you or a slap on the arm. not that it hurt him, you liked to think the hits had to be gently because of his worth for Williams.

After the blonde had paid, he impatiently stood up, holding out his hand for helping you to stand up. "Let's go, y/n, we don't have all day."

You let go off his hand, pressing a finger to your forehead. "Don't know why I keep up with you, you're acting like a kid in a hardware store. i'm praying for Alex and his patience."

"Hey, I'm not that bad", your friend shrieked, pulling your head into am armlock to rub your hair which he knew you didn't enjoy at all — you weren't a pet, you'd tell him.

"You're a shithead, have I ever said that to you?", you grumbled as you freed yourself from his strong grasp.

"And you're what? a Saint?", a snort escaped the man's throat, pushing you lightly forward to continue your way to the destination. "cause I don't think so, you're as bad as me, that's why we're friends."

Once again you grumbled under your breath but decided to just walk, letting Logan rant about his trip to New York with Williams and the training camp that was held in Miami.

When you arrived at the mall, you've heard all about his recent work experience, Alex's stories about his holidays and a new recipe Logan's mom came up (it didn't sound but why was she adapt to add pumpkin to the dish?).

"Look logs, there it is", you pointed out, gaze hazy with childish excitement. You intertwined your hand with his, dragging him inside the colourful store to the yet lifeless bodies of stuffies — there was the classic Teddy in a few shades of brown, forest and savanna animals as well as movie characters like yoda, stich and hedwig, Harry Potter's beloved owl.

you truly were in paradise. "Oh look, it's an eagle, that's so American, so you", a booming laughter fell from your lips, winning the attention of a mother daughter duo next to you, causing you to blush and Logan to pinch your side.

alas, your friend had enough of you, so therefore he left your side to explore the many options the shop had in stock. You didn't see his pick as your only matter was to fulfil the task of finding the right stuffy for logan and putting it in clothing.

In the end you decided on a cute black alpaca and put it in a white cargo trousers combined with a multicoloured party shirt and some blue jeans jacket, letting yourself be inspired by the clothing styles of Logan and George Russell's invention of white pants and a williams team shirt as a williams driver's standard uniform — you'd switch up the party shirt as soon as you'll get a hang out of sewing to make a mini williams shirt but for now the alpaca was going to own the shirt as did logan in the summer when you both went out for a wild night back home.

As you put the heart and the small voice box thingy in the stuffy, a small happy tear rolled down your cheek; you chose to say two things: the first one was the viral meme of him being American, silently screaming rwahh what the fuck is a kilometre and the second was a sweet message to cheer him up, hopefully, whenever he felt bad and you'd be out of his reach — a small fracture of yourself, reminding him of his greatness and uniqueness, and that he was loved and cheered. You were a sentimental being, no shame whatsoever, even though your friend sometimes liked to tease you about it, causing you to clap back — it was just that kind of friendship where you could let lose, be yourself without further worries nor feeling embarrassed or awkward.

When Logan finally got to you — you had waited for him outside of the mall, leaning on the car as you had texted him, and bought two cups of coffee at the small café on the opposite side of the build a bear shop— you gave him the box, containing the alpaca, wearing a silly expression on your face, which Logan mirrored.

"Let's see, if you still know me after seeing the whole wide world without me", you joked, silly smile morphing in a naughty grin on your lips.

"As if I could forget you, stinks."

"Maybe I should return it, you don't deserve it—"

"Hey, I don't do anything wrong", he exclaimed, making grabby hands to get the stuffy.

"Mister Sargeant, you are a liar and a very bad one at that", you tsked him. "Haven't we already said that we refer to call me stinks? the name should be buried six foot deep next to—"

"Don't you dare, y/n."

"I definitely should tweet the nickname, your colleagues would eat it up, don't you think so?", you giggled gleefully, remembering how you called him as you were two young children, running around the neighbourhood to terrorise them.

"And that's why I don't take you with me", he mumbled under his breath, holding out his hand where the stuffy box hang off. "Here we go, silly, hope you like it."

Slowly, you opened the box and the sight of your favourite animal greeted you, wearing the cutest hogwarts robes of your house. "Aw Logs, it's so pretty and fluffy. I love it." Gently you pressed you face against the small head of the stuff toy, enjoying the cozy texture of it and closed your eyes, salivating the moment.

After a moment, the blonde man enclosed you in a hug. "the alpaca's lovely, y/n/n. Best idea we had in a while."

"yeah true", you agreed, returning the hug.

[thriftedtchotchkes]

since seeing that pic of pedro’s arms I’ve literally been FERAL all day…. would it be possible for you to write something short about joel’s arms? 🫶🏽 (maybe like how they look when he holds you, when you guys make love, when he’s working, when you hold hands etc) is this weird or even possible idk I just love arms

hi lovely anon!! read this and immediately ran to write it, but i uhhhh missed the part where you said short and went a lil ham. hope you enjoy!

here in your arms

pairing: joel miller x reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, post-outbreak, language, fluff, mentions of body insecurities, comfort, smut, lots and lots of arm touching

word count: 1.8k

It’s hot as all hell in this bedroom, but you’re choosing to ignore it this morning. You’ll gladly sweat to death, even melt into a damn puddle if it means that Joel’s very warm, very naked body stays wrapped around you. 

As long as you can relish his thigh nestled between your legs, and those thick, thick arms pillowed under your head and draped over your waist. You’d burn in hell for all you care. Careful not to wake him, you turn your head slowly to press a kiss into his bicep, and the muscle twitches against your lips. 

The sudden movement startles a soft gasp out of you and fills you with heat so much worse than the stifling humidity in the air. You go completely still, holding your breath for a few moments while you wait to see if he wakes up, but the rise and fall of his chest maintains its steady rhythm against your back. Curiously, you lean in to kiss him a second time and, shit, there it goes again. 

An intrusive thought suddenly pops into your sleep-addled brain, telling you how good it would feel to sink your teeth into the firm, velvety skin. How salty it would taste on your tongue, and how he would probably unconsciously resist you, that twitch becoming a full-blown flex. You give into it before you can stop yourself, roughly biting a bruise into his arm, sucking hard when the muscle spasms into your mouth.

And that definitely wakes him up.

“Christ—w-what the—,” he rips his arm out from under you, and you immediately mourn the loss as your head flops onto his pillow. “—what…baby, the fuck was that for?”

You turn over, looking up at him sheepishly. He looks bleary-eyed, his soft, graying curls in complete disarray, but you can't bring yourself to feel particularly bad. That was totally worth it.

He eyes you expectantly when you don’t immediately answer, still looking dazed and a little stunned after being woken up so abruptly.

“Wanna tell me what that was?” he asks again, voice slurred and thick with sleep. He's propped up on his elbow above you, bicep still in reach, so you press an apologetic kiss into his reddening skin...and your teeth marks.

"I...honestly, I got nothing," you laugh, nuzzling into the crook of his elbow, mouthing wetly around the edges of the bruise. "It was right next to my face, so I kinda just went for it."

Your tongue darts out to taste him and it's even better than you thought, heady and so distinctly Joel, so you continue your path, shifting to the side to brush your lips along his forearm. He tenses, almost imperceptibly, but you feel it keenly, the intricately corded muscles shifting under his tanned, weather-worn skin. 

"You could take it as a compliment," you continue, tilting your head to throw him a cheeky smile. He quirks an eyebrow as if to ask how waking him up at ass o'clock in the morning on his day off could be complimentary. "I'm just admiring all that work you've been putting in on those extra patrol shifts."

He looks a little dubious, and it makes your heart ache. For as long as you've known him, and even more so since you've been together, Joel's never been great with praise, especially when it comes to his body. Maybe it's the age difference or just aging, but he wouldn't allow himself to be vulnerable with you for a long time, emotionally or physically.

He'd hide himself from you, always mumbling things you hated hearing about the softness of his stomach, the lines adorning his brow, or the skin under his arms, and it would make you furious. How dare he say any of that when you love all of those bits and pieces so much?

So, you've made it your personal mission to make sure he knows exactly how sexy he is whenever you get the chance, whether he's covered in grime and viscera, or completely naked and inside you.

"Probably coulda waited until later, don't'cha think?" There's a tiny smile forming on his tired face, and it encourages you to keep going. 

"Yeah, but isn't this more convincing? You looked so good, I couldn't even help myself," you say, running your fingertips along a beautifully jagged scar that runs right through where you bit him. You squeeze his arm teasingly, and he flexes for you, on purpose this time. "So strong," you joke, your tone completely contradicting the ache worsening in your core.

He chuckles, and his whole body shakes with it, jostling the thigh still wedged between your legs. That familiar heat from earlier returns with a vengeance as it drags across where you're still slick with last night's release, and you inhale sharply, catching his attention.

"Ya like my arms that much, huh?" he mumbles, voice unexpectedly gravelly, but the way he's looking at you is so fond, full of affection and something a little more complicated.

"I really, really do," you reply softly, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his wrist to drape his other arm over your waist. He wraps himself around you, pulling you tight against his chest, and you feel so tiny in his arms. Protected.

And he feels so powerful. You barely get the chance to nuzzle into the coarse hairs tickling your cheek before you’re flipped on top of him, knees bracketing his hips. Your hands shoot out to steady yourself and land on his shoulders, squeezing once you've settled into his lap.

His eyes meet yours, and there's that complicated look again, the one you still haven't figured out. Your mind races, searching for the answer, until his hands splay across your waist, thick-fingered and broad. 

And then he's lifting you up, just enough to line himself up with your entrance, and easing you down and up until he's fully seated inside you.

You breathe out a sigh of relief in unison, adjusting to the other as sweat drips freely down your bodies. The room is still scorching, even hotter now with the rising sun and your combined exertion. 

That beautiful flush Joel gets when you're intimate has started to spread from his cheeks down to his neck, spilling across his chest and into those perfect goddamn arms, straining with the effort of holding himself back from fucking into you like he wants to.

But you want something, too.

"Joel, can you...," you breathe out, feeling a little shy for asking but needing it badly enough to go through with it anyway. "Fuck, can you do it, please?"

He looks confused but so needy, nodding his head before he even knows what you're asking for. 

"'Course, baby, whatever you want," he grits out, grip tightening on your waist. "Jus' tell me 'n I'll do it."

"Use me. Want you to show me how strong you are—handle me," you suck your bottom lip wetly into your mouth, trailing your fingers from his shoulders downward, digging your nails into the hard planes of his deltoids. He hisses out a breath through his teeth. "Will you do that for me?"

In lieu of an answer, he lurches forward, sitting up with you in his lap to give you exactly what you asked for. And it's better than you ever could've imagined.

The solid muscle in his upper arms bulges as he drives you up and down his cock, and you wrap your hands around them greedily, feeling every expansion and contraction. Your mouth waters as you watch his thick, prominent veins strain against his skin, and you're hit with a sudden, strong urge to bite him again. 

So, you do. You bend down to suck hard at the taught skin, and his responding groan is so loud and drawn out, you feel it rumble beneath your lips.

"Shit—baby, you keep doin' that, 'm not gonna last long," he moans into your ear, still bouncing you on his cock, showing zero signs of slowing down. 

Fuck, how is he so strong? He's lifting you up and down like you're a ragdoll, shaking your entire being with the force, and you clench tighter as you hurtle closer to the edge. You separate your mouth from him to drop your head into the crook of his neck so you can watch him. Watch the raw power flowing through his body, and all those perfect parts he doesn't like about himself work you like no one ever has before.

And he's watching you, too, with so much want and desire, and, ah. That's what it is. That look—it's appreciation. He looks so grateful for you that you want to drown in it, surround yourself with it.

"Good. Hold me," you whimper, muffled as you throw your arms around his shoulders to bury your face into his skin. "Hold me close when you cum." 

He must've been right there, teetering on the cusp, because suddenly his arms snake around you, crushing you to his chest as he pistons up, cumming as deep as he can reach. They tense against you erratically, matching every pulse of his cock as he empties inside you.

He moans softly and sweetly in your ear as you cry out into his, your lower half squeezing him rhythmically as your orgasm crashes over you. You let him grind up into you through the aftershocks until you're both too exhausted to stay upright.

Tipping backward, Joel brings you back down onto the bed with him and rolls you over onto your sides. You smile up at him lazily, still happily nestled up against his chest, and he bends down to press a tender kiss to your forehead.

"Hell of a workout ya just put me through," he mumbles, sounding incredibly amused and thoroughly tired out. 

"Seemed like you enjoyed yourself, though," you snort, shifting just enough that his cock slips out of you, a thick glob of cum dripping onto the sheets. "I know I sure did."

"Yeah, bet ya did," he rolls his eyes, pinching your sides teasingly. "'Specially since I was doin' all the damn work."

"But you were so good at it," you can't help but wriggle your arms out from where they're wedged between your bodies to stroke his arms again. And hopefully his ego. "And you looked so good doing it."

His cheeks tinge that pretty shade of burgundy you love, and you know you hit the mark. He ducks his head down to kiss your cheek.

"Uh-huh. Next time, s'gonna be your workout," he murmurs, sighing as you start to massage his sore muscles. They twitch tiredly under your careful attention. His eyes flutter closed as the heat and exhaustion finally catch up with him, muttering sleepily, "'n I get to enjoy the view."

You lean up to kiss his lips, chaste and gentle.

"Deal."

[realisticfanfictions]

Being Sanji's Girlfriend & Baratie's Head Waitress - Part 4.

Sanji x Waitress!Reader: Part One, Part Two, Part Three.

Working at Baratie wasn't without its challenges, and the fights that sprung up because of them weren't rare either. You and your boyfriend never sweated the small stuff, after all working in a high stress environment made you, well, stressed. But maybe some things can't be resolved that easily.

Tags: Sanji x Reader, Waitress!Reader, constant bickering, mostly fluff with some angst, (heavy) swearing.

A/N: Initially going into this, I was planning to have the fishmen come in and have the Mihawk fight, but it was a bit more important to set up some more character dynamics before I moved onto 5k words of action scenes. So here's a nice bit of LORE(tm) and a bit more about how Y/N thinks. Next part I promise is 100% action, and I can't wait to show ya'll what I've come up with for Y/N's weapon! It's so cool.

Word Count is 3,421. Hope you enjoy!

Tag list (comment to join!): @siriuslyblackonback @jvhoons

"So, you're really going to fight him?"

Zoro, not looking up from cleaning his swords, nodded. "It's my dream." He explained, observing the blades for any damage. After he challenged the swordsman, the next few things happened rather quickly. The scramble to get Luffy as if that'll somehow convince him to stand down, the captain instead supporting his first mate's goal, and Nami storming off upset. It all passed by in a blur, and now you were alone with Zoro in their ship.

You nodded and turned to look out of the porthole, observing the calm seas that rocked the boat. "I guess dreams are worth dying for." You sighed and leaned back in your chair. "Sucks you met Mihawk too early."

His jaw tightened, and set down his sword. "If I run now, I'll never become the world's greatest swordsman."

You hummed and watched him through the reflection on the glass. "Honour, huh?" You mused and nibbled on the tip of your thumb. "How ridiculous. You're just like Sanji, uncompromising."

"Don't compare me to that shitbag." He snapped and sheathed his sword, clicking it shut in its scabbard. "Speaking of, why are you with him?"

Confused by his words, you looked over at him. "What do you mean?"

"He cheats on you, doesn't he?" He questioned and turned to face you, leaning against the cabinet. "He seemed pretty friendly with Nami a couple hours ago."

You chuckled. "That's just Sanji. He's obsessed with women. It's more," You thought of the words. "It's like having a dog that you love and care for, and though you go up and pet other dogs, you don't abandon your own dog for some random one on the street."

Zoro's eyebrows raised. "You do realise you just called yourself a bitch, right?"

You rolled your eyes and flipped him off. "Shut up. He's just chivalrous, that's all."

"Well, I'd be watching him if I were you." He walked over, his long strides making it seem effortless to reach you. "Guys like that don't tend to keep only one dog."

You opened your mouth to retort, but shut it and stood chest to chest with him. "Just focus on not dying, alright?" His eyes squinted ever so slightly, and he leaned down close to you, gazing directly into your eyes. "What are you doing?"

He stares for a moment, and then straightens himself back up. "Nothing."

You quirked an eyebrow. "Alright, I'm going home to my boyfriend."

"Wasn't trying to make a move." He retorted and stepped aside, letting you walk past him. "(Y/N)?" You placed a hand on the door frame and turned. "Be careful."

You looked him up and down. "Try not to die."

Mihawk's eyes haunted you like a ghostly presence that you couldn't shake off. It was like you could feel those piercing eyes all over your body, every inch of skin was tainted and you hated it. You always have.

The door to you and Sanji's shared room creaked open, and you popped your head inside. You didn't know what to expect, but Sanji jolting himself upright on the chair that sat in the corner of your room wasn't exactly one of them. The door softly clicked closed behind you, and you slowly walked up to him, his eyes on you the entire time as you sat on his lap. You positioned yourself sideways and leaned your head against his chest, reveling in his warmth when he wrapped his arms around you and placed a kiss against your scalp. Sanji's thumb rubbed circles in your thigh, more of an anxious gesture than anything, as he pressed many more kisses against your skin. You sighed and relaxed into him. "I may have overreacted." You started, ripping the band-aid off. "And I apologise."

He nodded. "Thank you for that. Sorry for not finding you sooner."

You shook your head against his chest. "I was drinking, you would've killed my buzz." You paused. "But I guess it was ruined anyway."

"Oh, I'm sorry-"

He stopped when you held up a hand. "I didn't mean you, Sanji." You opened your mouth, but couldn't find the words. Or rather, you found them, you just didn't want to share them. "A man came asking after our new chore boy."

You felt Sanji tense under you. "Are you okay?"

Mihawk's eyes restraining came to mind. "I'll be fine," You picked at a loose thread. "But Zoro won't."

Your boyfriend's hand stopped and pulled back to look you in the eye. "Zoro?"

"Luffy's friend, the guy with the swords. The idiot challenged him to a duel."

Sanji's head tilted. "Why?"

You let out a small sigh and untangled yourself from him, walking a couple feet to your dresser and pulling out a change of clothes. "Because they're idiots with a death wish." You said as you peeled off your top with a groan. "Fuck. Thank God I don't have work tomorrow."

He watched you for a moment as you shimmied out of your clothes and slipped into some pajamas. "Sweetheart, I'm not really comfortable with you drinking with pirates. I mean, it's a bit dangerous-"

You scoffed, pulling an oversized shirt over your head. "They're not pirates," You said as you tugged the shirt down, barely bothering to notice it was a gag shirt with an octopus on a bowl of rice. "Hell, they barely qualify as sailors." But when Sanji didn't respond, you paused. "Oh, you mean was I drinking with Zoro." You turned around to face him. He was leaning forwards in his chair, leg bouncing. You sighed and walked over to him. "He was just my drinking partner, and he's most likely going to die tomorrow." You run your hand through his blond locks. "It'll be fine. You don't have to worry."

"I'll have to trust you then." He said with a smile, then laughed when your gentle pat turned into a frantic scratch. "Hey! Not the hair!"

A smirk split across your face. "I don't know, Sanji. You might just have to trust me!"

He chuckled and grabbed your hands, pulling you forward onto him and wrapping you in his arms. "You know what I mean."

"I guess I'll just trust you-"

"Yep!"

"And trust that you're doing a good job! And- Sanji!" You squeaked when your boyfriend ambushed you with a barrage of soft kisses pressed across any bit of skin he could reach. "You tasteless toad! You're two tablespoons of terrible!"

"Two tablespoons of terrible." He repeated in a strange voice and you giggled when he tried to tickle you. "Oh no! The tickling toad has come to torment you!"

You push his hands away and trap his face in your hands. "You twat." You smiled and gave him a lingering kiss.

When you parted, he gave a soft smile. "And you even ended it with a 't', brilliant."

You quirked an eyebrow. "You weirdo."

He mirrored you. "And I somehow love you."

"But weirdly, you love me very weirdly."

He nodded. "Birds of a feather."

"If we're birds, you're a flamingo."

"Why?"

"Because if I wasn't dating you, I'd think you were a bit of a flamingo."

He gasped. "Then you'd be a penguin, because you bring me rocks."

You leaned back and gave him a look. "Because I bring you rocks?"

He nodded. "Yeah, you even put them on me. And you help me get my rocks off."

He laughed as you hit him. "Sanji! That's so bad!"

Your hands were caught and you were pulled into his chest, both of you giggling and stealing kisses from each other while occasionally snuggling impossibly closer. Sure, you might be a bad person - but you liked who you were with Sanji. And that's all you really cared about.

You lied. That night you couldn't sleep with hundreds of thousands of millions of thoughts racing through your mind. You felt like you were a greyhound chasing down a slightly too-fast rabbit, every time you got close, sleep just slipped through your fingers. Your gaze drifted from the ceiling where you were counting the nails in the boards, and over to your boyfriend. His sleeping face made a million butterflies emerge from their cocoons in your stomach, your heart beating against your rib cage like an angry gorilla. But something about this wasn't right, and you couldn't go to sleep without doing something about it.

Careful to not wake your peaceful boyfriend, you slowly lifted his arm from around your waist and placed it on his pillow, heart aching at the sight of him trying to seek your warmth. Even in sleep he wanted to be close to you. Grabbing your pillow, you gently tucked it under his searching hand and he brought it to his chest with a soft groan, the smell of you satiating him.

You rolled out of bed and tip-toed over the squeaky floorboards, wincing every time the floor made a sound. After looking back each time and taking moments between each footstep, you made it through the door and quickly shut it behind you. The early morning's chilly air struck you, but you ignored the goosebumps rising under your skin and continued on. It felt strange walking without your heels clicking against the floorboards, but you weren't looking to make noise, or look fashionable in this instance.

The Overnights were rooms for guests who've either had too much to drink, or who pay extra to stay overnight to hookup, or just to stay, again, overnight. You passed by the many in-use rooms filled with snoring and other unseemly sounds, rolling your eyes at the disgusting slobs behind the doors. A room stood out amongst the others, however, and you knew it held what you were seeking. The aura that emanated from it was unmistakable.

You reached into your hair and pulled out a bobby pin, sticking it in between your teeth to open it and then jammed it into the lock. All the locks were the same on the Baratie, and you only had to jimmy the locks, moving the pins frantically within, to open it without much effort. The door clicked open and you gently pushed it open.

When you stepped inside, you felt it. The blade at your neck. Without a second thought, you pushed it from your jugular and grabbed the silver candlestick on the hallway table, holding it firmly as the blade was struck against it. It sliced through with ease and a sharp burning went through your cheek, knowing that if you hadn't moved your head, it would've went through your eye. "You're slow." Came the hauntingly beautiful, yet unsettling voice from your nightmares.

You hissed and shoved his sword away from your face. "You haven't seen me in seven years, and the first thing that comes from your mouth is criticism? How shocking."

"Six." He corrected, and the room was suddenly bathed in a low yellow hue. Dracule Mihawk was a terrifying man. His golden, ringed eyes glowed in the dim light and when they looked you over, it felt like he was observing your soul and picking it apart with the grace one would picking the petals off of a flower. Those eyes locked onto yours. "It's been six years."

You rolled your eyes and pushed past him. The room was a similar layout to your own, with the only difference being the minimalist design and abhorrent amount of red wine. You knew the latter didn't come from the room. Rather, they came from his personal stash that would deem any other man an alcoholic. But Mihawk was simply old-fashioned, born in the wrong non-vampiric century if you will.

He sheathed his famed black blade Yoru in one smooth motion and danced past you, sitting gracefully in his armchair and crossing one leg over the other. Your eyes drifted over to his hat hung on a hook and reached out to run your fingers against the silky feather. "Don't touch it." The old swordsman warned behind you, picking up his book and flipping over the next page. "I despise disorganisation. It needs to be acceptable for my duel tomorrow. Or rather, in the upcoming moments since you have woken me up at such an ungodly hour."

Despite your reluctance, your arm retracted almost on its own. "You were already awake, asshat." You turned around and crossed your arms. "And it'll be creased anyway, so it doesn't matter if-"

"Not necessarily." His words were as sharp as his gaze. "If we go by that barbaric logic, it doesn't matter if a man is murdered since we all die in one way or another."

You scoffed and returned his look with your own glare. "I'm not too sure, you're more experienced when it comes to murdering men."

Mihawk picked up his expensive crystal wine glass, and took a long, silent sip of his Tarapaca. It was placed back down onto the table with a clink. He leaned back in his chair which squeaked as he did so, and interlocked his fingers. "Why are you here, (Y/N)?"

"I was going to ask you the same question."

His head tilted for a moment, before righting itself. "I'm here for Monkey D. Luffy."

You hadn't realised your shoulders were tensed until they drooped down. "That's it?"

He nodded. "I am only here as an obligation to Garp to collect his grandson."

To your annoyance, your throat tightened. "I thought that was an excuse."

"It wasn't." The man you hated sat in his chair completely unbothered. His eyes lingered on you for a moment, before drifting back to his book. He flipped the page. "'But tell me, at the time of those sweet sighs, by what and in what manner Love conceded that you should know your dubious desires?'"

Pathetically, you felt stinging at the corners of your eyes. "'And she said to me: “There is no greater sorrow then to recall our times of joy in wretchedness.”'" You breathed in through your nose. "Inferno, by Dante Alighieri."

"From?"

You cleared your throat. "Divine Comedy."

"What year?"

You took in a breath and shook your head. "1321?"

He said nothing and turned the page. You stood silently, wanting to run but having no strength to do so. His gaze finally lifted to meet yours. "Is that all?"

A chill ran over your skin, and you were once again reminded of the kind of man he was. There was a lot you wanted to say to Dracule Mihawk. So much hatred and anguish that you had to endure, all the suffering handed to you by the well-manicured hands of the greatest swordsman in the world. You hated him. "Unless you want to say anything?"

His eyes held yours for a moment. "Goodnight."

"Go fuck yourself." You practically grew fangs and spat venom at him. Spinning on your heel, you kicked the wall where his hat hung and stormed out of the room.

A scream bubbled in your throat. Your nails dug into your palms, and your lips were bloodied from ripping them open. He had no- you couldn't- he was such a-

As you turned a corner, you felt something pinch the base of your skull and you whipped around. Pulling your gun and aiming it, you locked eyes with the other swordsman in your life. Zoro, bathed in moonlight, turned his attention from his swords to you. The rag he was cleaning his blade with stopped and he was focused solely on you. "I think I know who you are."

You scoffed and shoved your gun back in its holster. "Well, apparently most people don't, so I'll take anything at this point." He was quiet, and your lips tightened into a smile. "Want a drink?"

The door opened with a click and Zoro whistled. "Nice trick."

You put the bobby pin back in your hair with a smile. "Thanks." The Baratie after-hours was a sight to behold, but the bar was even better. You smiled at Zoro and guided him around the front of the bar where the shutters were closed.

"Thought you said it's open all night."

You looked behind you as you bent down to the latch holding the fish's mouth closed. "I said you couldn't get anything on tap around three in the morning," You unhooked the chain and pulled it free from the floor. "Didn't say that the bar was open. Come help me." You shuffled to the side to make room for him, and grabbed onto the shudders. He appeared by your side and hooked his fingers under the shudders next to yours, you both nodded to each other and grunted as you lifted the shudders. You expected it to be heavier, but with Zoro it lifted with surprising ease. The moonlight poured in and illuminated the bar, shining through the empty bottles of booze and creating a kaleidoscope of colours.

The green-haired swordsman chuckled and looked around. "I've never been in a bar after hours." He sat down on a nearby couch normally reserved for V.I.Ps. "It feels naughty."

You shrugged, walking over to the bar and reaching over. "Yeah well, if we're caught I'll probably get fired, so don't fuck around." Your fingers wrapped around the neck of a bottle and you hoisted it to eye-level. "You a rum guy?"

He smiled and gave a half-shrug. "I'm a booze guy."

"Good answer." You said and carried over two shot glasses for the both of you. Sitting down, you tugged off the cork with your teeth and poured yourselves shots. You raised your glasses. "To you dying tomorrow."

His eyebrows raised. "To me surviving tomorrow." He corrected and clinked his glass against yours, keeping his eyes on you as you took a shot together. He sighed, flicking his head and nodding. "That's good."

You nodded and sniffed. "It's very good." You filled your glasses again. "Only the best shit for the only guy that knows me." You gulped it down, and didn't wait for him to finish before filling yours back up.

He chuckled. "I'm the one dying tomorrow, and here you are drinking like it's the end of the world."

"Yeah, well," You sniffed and swirled around the liquid in your glass. "My life kind of fucking sucks at the moment. So, I think I deserve to get shit-faced."

Zoro tilted his head and licked his teeth. "I bet you had a miserable childhood."

You laughed and leaned back, tears pricking at yours eyes as you nodded. "Understatement of the century." You said under your breath and looked up at him, forcing a smile. "I grew up on some private land owned by nobles."

He nodded. "You said that."

"Yeah, but what I didn't tell you was I wasn't born there. My Dad, being father of the fucking year, didn't want to care for a baby so he dumped me with some workers. Then, when I truly got attached to my family and finally was accepted as a member of the community, he just came back and picked me up. Like I was some type of broken watch he left to be repaired." You shook your head and reveled in the burn of the rum as it slid down your throat and warmed your stomach. "And ever since then, he's just tormented me. Even when I got away from him, it's like he's always there just watching me - waiting for me to mess up. And you know, all the shit that I did to make him proud of me? Every late night reading libraries' worth of books just in case he quizzed me on it in the morning. Every lesson in combat styles, or how to sense others, whatever the hell that means. Most of the scars I have are from trying myself to him. But never once was I told 'Good job (Y/N)', or that he was proud of me. He never even smiled at me." You finished the shot and placed it down onto the table. "And you know what fucking sucks? After all this time, all the anguish he's put me through? All I want him to look at me and tell me that he loves me."

Zoro looked at his glass and his mouth tightened into a fine line. "I know the feeling." His eyes drifted back to yours. "To shitty parents?" He offered, raising his glass.

You chuckled and shook your head, but poured yourself a glass and raised it. "The shittiest."

A/N: Um, okay this was pretty heavy and it took me a while to write because I wanted to make it actually matter. I think there'll be a few more parts and then we'll be finished with the Baratie saga! Then, I might take a break and do maybe another series/one-shot while I properly plan the next part. We'll also be naming this series! The poll has concluded and within the next couple of days, we'll be figuring out the name! Comment down if you have any suggestions, or want to join the tag list! <3

P.S: When the Baratie saga is done, I'll release it all as one part so that it'll be easier to re-read. It'll be a bit of its own thing, so stay tuned haha.

[ongaku-ato-kakikomi]

I have an imagie idea for Joe Goldberg. So imagine the reader likes Joe and works with him at Mooney's and he developes a soft spot for her and teaches her how to repair the old books down there. And it isn't uncommon for her to go down there on her own to do that herself.

You give out a long sigh as you walk toward Ethan standing behind the cash register, and you drop your arms and head on the counter as soon as you arrive. Ethan gives out a chuckle as he observes your melodramatic act.

“Let me guess. One of too many customers asked you one of too many dumb questions?”

“No, there’s barely anyone in here.” You give out another sigh and look up at him with desperation. “I’m just so bored.”

“Well, you can always re-stack the shelves.” Your friend and coworker speaks as he counts the money in the cash register, his eyes sometimes looking up so he can send a smile when a new customer walks in. “We got a few new boxes in this morning.”

“But my arms are so sore.”

Ethan gives out a small smile. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, really. They hurt so bad. Actually, I think I might need to ampute them.” Your comment only manages to bring a chuckle out of Ethan, then you notice something from the corner of your eyes, and a spark of curiosity appears in your eyes. “Hey, what’s that?”

You point at a small pile of wrapped books on the far edge of the counter.

“Oh, a client dropped these earlier. They’re old books that need some restoration.” Ethan continues to count the cash, humming a familiar song in-between his words. “I’ve been planning to tell Joe as soon as he comes back from his errands.”

“What? No, forget Joe.” You rapidly grab the pile of books, a wide smile taking over your lips. “I’m gonna go downstairs and take care of these myself.”

“Um...” Ethan gives you a look of hesitance. “I’m not sure you should do that.”

“Aw, come on, Ethan.” You give him a pout, batting your eyes. “You know Joe trusts me to do these. He even said I’m doing a better job than he is.”

He bites his bottom lip, still unsure. “Yeah, I’m not saying you aren’t good, but he’s given us straight orders not to go down there for a week now.”

You point at the half empty store with your head, your voice lowering to a whisper. “Whatever’s down there isn’t worth this deadly boredom up here.”

“(Y/N).” Ethan calls out your name as you walk away, his voice coming out a bit more panicky when you ignore him. “(Y/N)!”

“Relax! Joe won’t mind, I’m sure.” You unlock the door to the basement, then send your friend a wink. “Call me if there’s an emergency.”

You open the door and close it behind you before Ethan can say anything else, your feet already making you walk down the stairs as you hum a song. It doesn’t take long for you to reach the main area of the basement where the rare books are, your mind settled on getting to the restoration table. Although, a putrid smell brings your pace to an abrupt stop, and you frown in both disgust and confusion. Curious of the origin of the smell, you turn your head toward the glass cage on your left, internally wondering if you should adjust its humidity levels.

You drop the books on the floor the moment your eyes settle on the body decaying in there.

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

“Hey, Ethan.” Joe smiles as he walks into the shop; although, his smile slightly falters when he notices his friend jumping up at the sound of his voice. “Whoa. You’re okay? You seem nervous.”

“Ah...” Ethan’s fingers fidget with the cash register for a moment, trying his best to focus on finishing his counting task. “No... No, I’m good! Great even!”

Joe quirks an eyebrow at that, thinking that this kind of behavior could only mean one thing, and he crosses his arms over the counter with a grin.

“So, what did (Y/N) do?” He stares intently at his friend, his head slightly tilting. “Tell me the truth.”

Ethan’s eyes quickly shift toward the basement door, but Joe immediately catches onto it. 

“No...” His heart sink with fear as he realizes what you’ve done, and Ethan doesn’t have time to reply anything that Joe’s already running to get downstairs. “No, no, no!”

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

Bitter vomit pours out of your mouth to splash in the trash can you barely managed to grab, violent trembles taking over your body soon enough. The image of the body’s glazed white eyes staring back into your soul sticks into your mind, and it only worsens your sickness. You breathe sharply the moment you stop throwing up, using your sleeve to wipe off your mouth as you take another look at the cage. Whoever this body used to be, you can tell he’s been trapped in there for a while, his decaying skin looking like a gooey moldy paste. You can see some dry white foam around what used to be his mouth, and it doesn’t take you more than a few neurons to realize that he was poisoned.

And that Joe killed him.

“Oh my God...” You cry out those words as you stand up, your legs shaking as you try to run back to the stairs. “Oh my God, Ethan! Ethan, we have to call the police...!”

The door opens before you reach the top of the stairs, and your heart drops when you realize that it’s not Ethan who’s standing up there.

It’s Joe.

“... (Y/N).” Joe whispers that name as soon as he sees you standing down there with a look of terror on your face, his hands already closing and locking the door behind him. “(Y/N), please, let me explain. I... I can explain-(Y/N)!”

You don’t waste a second to run back down, your mind now focused on finding the basement exit to reach the alleyway. Tears fall out of your eyes when you hear Joe run down behind you, screaming your name out of desperation.

“(Y/N), wait! Wait!”

He manages to grab the back of your shirt and pulls you back.

“No!” You scream as loud as you can the moment you feel his arms wrap around your body, hoping Ethan would be able to hear you as you try to kick yourself out of Joe’s grip. “No, no, no, let me go!”

“I’m sorry...” Joe whispers those words into your ears, struggling to wrap one of his arms around your neck. “You weren’t supposed to see that...”

You gasp for air when you feel his arm squeezing your neck, your hands desperately scratching at his skin to stop him. “Let... me go...!”

“I can’t do that.” He puts more pressure on your neck, making you moan in pain as you give out raspy shot breaths. “I’m so sorry.”

I’m gonna die. You think, your movements slowing down as your vision blacken. He’s going to kill me.

Joe frees your neck the moment your arms fall victim to gravity, and he gently lays you on the floor. His eyes fill up with tears when he sees your unconscious face and the red marks around your neck.

“I’ll fix this.” He presses a gentle kiss on your forehead, his mind already racing to find a solution that would save you from himself. “I promise you I’ll fix this.”

In the meantime, he’ll have to keep you down here. 

And hopefully Ethan won’t question his excuses.

[notyashiro128]

Bunny suit

husband satoru gojo x reader

Warning: smut (heavy smut), teasing, curse , smau.........

Note This one shot is long super long it took me a whole 5 days to finish and requests are open so ye

10:34am

At the house.

"Sweetheart, I'm going back to the office for a meeting, stay put, please." satoru stated, fixing his tie while looking at himself in the mirror. He wore a white shirt with a black suit, paired with his black tie and his black shoes. All you could say was he looked extremely attractive and sexy in it

"Staring is a bit rude~," He chuckled, making you shrug it off and reply, "Shut up, when are you coming home?" You inquired, making him think and check his phone for the schedule.

"Around 7:30 pm, why?" Saturo quirked an eyebrow at your question, as you never asked him things like this before. "Hm, I don't know." You teased, leaving the man perplexed. "Whatever this stunt is, I hope it doesn't get me in trouble."

He scowled, the usual aggressiveness getting into him as he overanalyzed your inquiry. "I'm heading to work now, love you." satoru pecked you on your cheek, making you nod. "I love you too, take care!" You bid your farewell, making him smile a bit.

The two of you'd been married for two whole years, and today was supposedly your anniversary, disturbed by his work. Sure, he didn't forget about it, but he really had to go to work , and since your home was far from his office, he had to go out early.

13:08pm

You decided to stroll out and see clothing you could wear once satoru gots home, and surprisingly, something immediately caught your eye.

A bunny suit?

You stared at it, amused by how good it looked from afar, detail by detail. Observing everything of it, you saw how expensive it was, and the detail explains it all. "This would be a great surprise for him," You pondered, smirking to yourself as you decided to buy it just for fun.

The material on both the tail and the bunny ears was soft, it was like how satoru described you. Cotton was soft, yet dangerously sharp, and that's how the clothing was in a way, it could catch anyone's eye. You went to the dressing room to try it on, seeing if it was worth buying.

Surprisingly, it seemed to fit your standards in clothing.

Its black cloth was smooth and silky, and the outer part was a soft plastic-like, malleable detail. The suit hugged your waist, and the stockings along with it revealed your flush thighs, making it outstanding to whomever would look.

Your chest was revealed slightly, and the lower part of the clothing hugged your ass well along with how it fits you, perfectly.

After all that, you decided for the last time, and bought it. Bringing it with you, driving your car home excitedly, as if this were a great, great surprise.

4:57pm

At the House

"Good afternoon, welcome back home." Your servant greeted you as you entered the manor, smiling at you and how happy you looked like coming back home, you nodded in response, making her know automatically that you meant to tell her 'good afternoon to you too'.

Quite immediately, you headed to your and Saturo's room, changing into the bunny suit to take pictures- and hell, you looked great.

Flushed, you started to think about what you've done. Half of you was scared, and half of you... well, half of you were excited about whatever he had in mind for the both of you when he got home.

(At the dinner table) 19:24 pm

"itadakimasu" (いただきます), now you pick up your chopsticks and eat the food seated on your bowls. Just by the right timing, your husband finally arrived

Note: in your house, you have some maids (you don't like the maids but Saturo said you don't need to do the work so they come from 11 am to 8 pm, they do cleaning and sometimes cooking)

"Good evening, welcome back home" They all said in unison, but satoru didn't budge. He immediately sat beside you and gave you an intimidating glare, making you feel little beside him, as the both of you peacefully ate dinner. You were bothered, though. He's been eyeing you from time to time, as if he planned something out so thoroughly.

satoru is a man of his word, and though you'd catch him lying sometimes, whenever he says he'll do something, do expect that from him.

(After dinner the maids leaves)

8:14pm Your Room

After the maids left the house and you said goodbye to them, satoru called you to the room. When you went to the room, he was behind the door. He closed the door behind you You were standing behind the door with Satoru in front of you

"so hello my beautiful wife" he said playfully you were very shy, “Oh come on, you don’t even say hello"

"H-hello?" You reply in embarrassment, making him smirk more to himself.

"Now now, no need to be shy. But, didn't I tell you you're not getting away with it?" He giggled, face getting closer to yours as he walked closer to you, pinning you to the door you

"You sent those pics and never expected me to do something about it princess~ ?" He placed his hand on your cheek and raised your head to meet his

"ohh princess I asked you a question, and I want you to answer me." He starts tearing you,

"Yes... yes you did." You muttered lowly, face flushed.

"So, now, I want you to wear that suit again, and come back here~" He ordered, and you followed. It's not like you had a choice anyway, you provoked him to do this.

Again with the bunny suit, it hugged you even better now, as you actually tied it and fixed your stockings too. Now, it was your ass that looked perky with that. Shyly, you got out of the dressing room, spotting Satoru easily as he was waiting on the bed.

(I'm smiling as I write this helppppp)

His eyes scanned you up and down.hes getting hard again just by looking at you

"Looks better close," He stood up, walking closer to you, which in instinct, made you walk backwards. "You're gonna act all bratty now, yeah? Oh well, you're making it harder for yourself." Satoru teased, taking both of your wrists into one of his hands, pinning them to the wall.

This small action made you flinch and let out a sweet little sound, making his eyes widen in shock.

"O-oh, sorry." You apologized, making him click his tongue. "I want you to let out all your sweet noises, let me hear your voice." satoru whispered, his mouth getting close to your neck, sending shivers down your spine, and butterflies to your stomach.

Heck, you felt like you'd cum just by him being touchy, he knew all your sensitive and sweet spots.

He started kissing and sucking on your neck, making you whimper softly at the sudden contact with your flesh. You felt him smirk against your skin, adding more friction to what pleasure you felt. He started humming lightly to send vibrations to tickle you, this made you let out a moderately soft moan. and

"'toru.." You breathed out, making him suck harshly on your skin, finding your sweet spot, abusing it with his plums and soft lips abusing it with his plump and soft lips. "Ngh!" You lightly inhaled as Satoru's lips now left contact with your flesh, and he now let go of your wrists. He stared at your neck for seconds with a smirk, making you realize what he'd done.

"Only I can mark you up like this, and touch you like this." Satoru scowled in a low tone, making you catch he was serious at the moment. It only took a few seconds for him to look at the art that his lips had made Then He decided to put his blindfold over your eye

"You hear me, slut?" He pecked your lips, humming in signs he expected an answer, and so, you decided not to disobey for now. "Yes daddy," You close your eyes shut as he kissed you deeply, making the small kiss into a make out session, making sure he tasted every inch of your mouth.

His tasted like mint, it lingered around your teeth as he played with your tongue with his own, smirking onto the kiss to let you know he's up for this. He carried you to the bed, laying you down gently, not breaking the kiss any later. Satoru then started to massage your thighs, irritating your pussy with his hand slightly rubbing against it, forcing a mewl out from you.

"Mmh, good girl good girl ," He whispered right into your ears immediately after cutting the kiss off, you were struggling to breathe, which only riled him up more.

"Toru," You breathed out, yet it seemed he wasn't content with just that answer."no no be a good girl and call me daddy" He then brought a hand up to slap your thigh a bit harshly, "Ah, d-daddy" and man did it feel so good but hurt so bad. It stung for a while Satoru started touching your breasts. “They are perfect.” He pulled down some of the suit and started licking your boobs He wanted to put up hickeys on both of them You started moaning with every movement he made "Daddy, ahh!" You cried "Oh your boobs are that sensitive," he said that while playing with them after he made a lot of hickeys on them he went down

You held onto the sheets tightly, pulling it closer as you feebly sobbed, not in dread, but in impatience. Your pussy was burdened with need of attention, all aroused for his touch.

"That's it, just like that." He then lowered his face until it met your pussy, he rested your legs on his shoulders, his hands reaching out to the cloth of your suit to rip it.

It didn't help that you looked so cute under him, squirming around, just like what a bunny in heat would do. How ironic honestly.

Satoru teased you by caressing your core especially your perfect boobs with his thumb while gently licking on the rest of your pussy,like his last meal, cleaning up the wetness that revolved around your little tight pussy. His liquids made your area easier to access, making it even easy to insert his fingers in your pussy, and so he did.

He showed no mercy, and entered two fingers in, stretching you out so painfully good. Even though it's not the first time you two have done this together, both his fingers and his size will never be something you're used to.

You winced and whined in pain, making his smirk grow into a grin. "Take it, you fucking slut." He started to curl his fingers in, hitting a certain spot that made feel both pain and pleasure. you

Pain, for not being able to adjust to two fingers in, and pleasure for it being hit.

You let out a breathy moan, letting him know it felt good there—and by this, he started hitting it constantly. This made you let out sweet sounds he wanted to hear, him being pleased made it easier for you. Since that'd mean he'll not go full on, right?

Unexpectedly, your husband now is sucking on your pussy while his two fingers in it , the way you liked it, humming from time to time to send more friction (vibrations). The way you reacted was exactly how he imagined you would, the way he took you in his mouth, penetrating your core and your pinkish tight pussy at the same time; it made you feel like you're successfully in cloud nine.

"Nnh, 'toru- daddy, c-close..." You managed to moan out, getting the male's attention. He then glared at you and signed for you to do so, not stopping the movement of both his fingers and his tongue, even fastening. Not long enough, you finally cum

making Satoru giggle to himself.

Though you already had your release, that didn't stop sucking, and licking on your pussy It felt nice, painfully pleasuring. You squirmed under his hold, making him grip your thigh harshly with his free hand.

"Still, stay still." Satoru professed in a soft tone, making you nod and look at whatever he was doing. Slowly, he removed his fingers from your pussy, licking off the excess fluids on his fingers while licking off your release earlier, making sure it'll not go to waste.

"It's my turn~," Satoru mused as he sat down, tapping the bed lightly, more so telling you to sit up as well. You complied, however your arms and legs felt like jello. "You've been a good bunny, I think it's time you deserve a reward?" He pointed out to his cock, making your eyes glisten in awe.

You nodded and got on your knees on the floor, making his expression soften as he leans back to give you more access to his long member. (20-23 cm or even more)

Agonizingly slow, you sucked on his pink tip and caressed it using your hand. You heard Satoru groan in pleasure, making you a bit more confident about it. You then brought his length to deeper and slightly choked, but it was hard to adjusted his size in your small mouth.

"oh i see your small mouth can't take my big cock it that so ~" he teased you with that His hand snaked to reach your head, pulling on your hair to make you suck it deeper "take it~ all"

You tried you best to fit his cock in your mouth,He moaned, "Ngh, (y/n), you're so- haah- good," He threw his head backwards and got carried away by the pleasure, he started to move with your pace. You mewled on his cock, sending a vibration into his nerves, adding friction to how good he felt.

"Fuck, fuck, don't stop," He whined out. It only riled you up more, so you picked up your pace, smiling against his flesh as you sucked him off. You looked at Satoru in the eyes, and it seemed to catch him off guard. He was weakened by your movement, he couldn't pick up with your speed.

"Mmh! (Y/n), fuckkk-" He furrowed his brows as he groaned out your name. You could tell he was nearing. The twitching of his member said it all, and the way he tugged onto your hair said likewise. He started to let out breathy whines and moans, signalling you were doing well.

"Hngh... Good bunny," He muttered, his filling your mouth up with his cum. You swallowed, licking your lips and his cock clean- and due to his sensitivity, he whimpered at this.

Satoru carried you and pinned you to the bed, sucking on your nipples a bit harshly this time to tease you, going further below to mark your stomach by his kisses.

"Now tell me" With his hands, he pushed his hair away from his eyes ,he looked super super fuckig sexyy (OmG) "are ready to feel my cock inside of you princess?" He asked for softly,you could just cum by what he just said . You nod with a blush in your face

" a a a a a I wanna hear you ,say it" he smirked "I- want y-you inside of me," you said blushing. "Good girl taking care of me this whole 2 years"....

He then rubs your pussy with his tip trying to tease you "ok love here we go~" He started inserting his cock inside you slowly, then went a bit deeper, "Mmh, you're still so tight. I thought by now, you'd be used to this." He described how good you felt little by little, slowly picking up his pace on you.

the sound of skin slapping now echoed the room along with your soft whimpers and wet rare. He went it to go faster, gripping your waist as your legs practically hugged his waist. You were so needy, you didn't know what you were doing.

"A-aah, comin- ngh!" You struggled to form out words with your voice, ignoring his inquiry as you felt another knot tighten in your stomach. Satoru chuckled in between low grunts, "Hmm, look at you. So good for me, hnng-" He groaned in a flirtatious tone that sent you to the edge. You released around his cock with a whine, your soft and warm walls pulsating around him as he- saturo, only looked a tiny amount pleasured.

He fucked you through your orgasm, quickening his pace to chase his own high. You struggled to breathe, the pleasure was too much to handle, it started to convert to pain. "Ah-haah, daddy, toru, i-it hurts, please," Your pleads are ignored by him

"Ehh? I thought you could take it," He muttered, thrusting a bit slowly down ., your fingers weak as you tried to grip Satoru's shirt. Tears started to form by the corners of your eyes, it is both from overstimulation and desperation for his cock.

The pleasure was too much for you to handle, yet, something in your chest clangs and says you can't have enough of it.

"H-haah, com-coming, again," You feebly moaned, feeling a hand up your stomach. Your tears drenched the blindfold, but you're too busy focusing on the feeling of his thick long big cock buried in you, as you can't view anything he's doing. brows furrowed

"Shit, I-I'm coming, cumming cumming" Satoru quietly grunts,

----_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

After satoru cums inside of you he lay down next to you, sighing, “You were good, better than good.” He turned to you and hugged you." Let me rest for a while and I will take care of you I love you, i love you happy anniversary beautiful " he added you were smiling

The end✨🦦

I think pt2 is after care yeah?

[loveiis]

oh you fancy, huh?

chris sturniolo x black!fem!reader

summary: chris pretty much has a thing for seeing you all dolled up for a just a day of spoiling you. he loves spending his money on you all the time and seeing your reaction when he randomly takes you out to get your nails done and go shopping.

warnings: suggestive jokes, cursing, fluffy, NOT PROOFREAD

(A/N: i am somewhat proud of this but also not at the same time. i literally wrote this because apparently it was an idea i recently had. idk.)

“come on ma, you’ve been in that bathroom for an hour already.” chris called from the other side. “sorry bae, im coming i promise. one more thing.” you responded, dragging your lip gloss across your lips.

you forced the applicator back into the container, and walked out the bathroom to see your boyfriend scrolling on his phone. he looked up at you, looking at how beautiful you looked dolled up like this.

“damn, i didn’t know you were doing all that.” placing his phone in his pocket, he kissed up and down your neck softly. “chriiis, let’s go i’m ready.” you cupped your hands around his neck as he kissed up your jawline and finally placed a kiss on your lips.

“mm, i like that cherry.” licking his lips and tasting the bit of lipgloss on his lips now. “ew, chris. dont eat the lipgloss.” you swiped it from his mouth with your thumb. “i’ll eat you if you don’t stop touching my lips like that.” he looked down at you with low eyes.

you removed your thumb from his mouth and instead held his hand. “lets go, please. you’ve been waiting and i feel bad.” you say softly. “its okay, ma. it was worth the wait to see you look like a full course meal.” he smirked.

“chris.” you glared at him. “okay, sorry. let’s go.” he started walking, keeping his hand intertwined with yours.

he opened the car door for you, giving him a small “thank you” before settling in. he got into the drivers seat and started the car.

“we should go get your nails done before we go shopping.” he stares at you. “how’d you know i needed to get them done again?” you quirked an eyebrow.

“cause’ i got you a tech without your permission. you haven’t been able to tell by the amount of times i’ve taken you to get them done again?” he replies.

“no, actually i didn’t notice. that’s so sweet of you, baby you know you don’t have to do all this.” you hold his hand as a thank you.

“actually i do, spoiling you is my middle name.” he kissed the top of your hand. yeah, you’re marrying this guy.

he pulled out of the driveway, starting his destination to the place you usually get your nails done at.

——

“hey girl good to see you again!” the nail tech, rachael, greeted you. “heyy!” you gave her a nice hug. “so what we getting today?” she asked. you didn’t really plan this out, since it was kind of a last minute decision made by your boyfriend.

“ummmm….” you slowly turn to look at your boyfriend, who’s again, scrolling on tiktok. “ma, you know you can get whatever you want. i’m not going anywhere.” he deadpanned.

you rolled your eyes as you thought about what you should get. “uh, lets just do regular coffin french tips.” you turned to smile at her. “feet too? or no?” she asked. “no, not today.” you shook your head. “okay, lets get started.” she walked towards a manicure table and sat in the chair, as you followed behind and sat on the other side.

your boyfriend sat in the chair next to you, at the other manicure table. she started to get to work on your nails, as your boyfriend sat patiently next to you, occasionally checking on the process to make sure they look nice.

——

“baby, they’re done.” you wiggle your fingers in front of him, showing off your new set. he immediately looked up from his phone, smiling. you smile, doing a little shoulder dance, happy with your new nails.

chris loved to see you like this, happy with new things he bought you, looking like the happiest girl in the world.

you both stood up from your chairs, moving to the front desk to pay. “you look so pretty, baby.” chris stood behind you, his hands on your hips and kissing your neck.

rachael smiled and mouthed the words “yall are so cute”. you smiled at her comment. “how much?” you asked. “twenty dollars.” she leaned over the counter. “twenty? thats different from the last time i got these.” you questioned.

“yeah, twenty dollars because i love you guys. we’re like family now.” she shrugged. you chuckled, reaching into your purse to grab a twenty dollar bill, until a hand slapped your wrist.

“ow! what the fuck chris?!” you twisted your head a bit to look at him, who was still kissing your neck. using his left arm to hug your waist, he used his right to pull out his black card and hand it to you. “its just twenty dollars, jesus you don’t need to flex. its only rachael.” you rolled your eyes, handing rachael the card.

she scanned the card, and handed it back to you. “have a great day guys!” she waved at both of you. chris stopped kissing your neck and waved as you did too. you both walked out of the place, chris’ arm wrapped around your waist. “thank you baby.” you kissed his cheek as a reward.

“you say thank you in that tone again and i swear to god im gonna fuck the shit out of you.” he says, pressing the button to unlock the car. “whats going on with you today?” you get in the car as he holds the door for you.

he gets in the car, starting it up. “nothing, you’re irresistible, you know that.” he pulled out the parking lot, his right hand on your thigh.

——

you arrived at the mall, chris holding your hand as you both walked in together. chris had felt pretty scared since you were looking a little too good today and you were out in public.

“lets go to windsor.” you suggested. “wherever you want, just take me there. don’t even ask.” he once again kissed your hand, but kept holding it as you led him to windsor.

you looked around at the dresses, grabbing a formal one, and a sundress. he wasn’t really paying attention to what you were grabbing, so you went into the fitting rooms with him.

he waited outside while you tried on the formal dress, it was a sparkly blue skin tight dress.

“okay, im done.” you came out the tiny fitting room, stopping in front of your boyfriend who was sitting down on the complementary bench. he looked up at you. “what’s this dress for?” he caressed your sides with his hands.

“maybe for like parties or something, when i wanna go out with my girlfriends.” you looked at him, knowing he was going to say something stupid.

“oh you fancy, huh?” he smiled at you. “boy what do you know about fancy?” you chuckled.

“i listen to that song, what do you mean?” he continued rubbing your sides. “mhm, sure baby.” you laughed. “don’t doubt me, ma.” he said. you shook your head, and went back to the room to try on the next dress.

you came out again, this time with the sundress on. you gave him a little twirl and asked him what he thought about it.

he didnt say anything, but he stood up and got closer to you. he placed his hands on your hips and smiled. “you look so fucking beautiful. in everything. even in what you were wearing today.” he started to kiss your neck, again, for like the third time today.

“does this mean i can get both dresses?” you removed his face from the crook of your neck and looked into his eyes. “yes, baby. get whatever you want. just grab it.” he looked back at you.

he seemed entranced by you. like you put him under a spell today, he has never said no to his sweet girl, and he never will.

you kiss him softly on the lips and go back to the fitting room to change back.

you grab both of the dresses and head to the register, chris immediately giving you his black card again.

you started to hit more stores, never forgetting to say thank you to your lovely boyfriend everytime he got you something. even though there were clothes he didn’t like, but you did, he couldn’t say no. you were his weakness, and the way you looked today just made him even weaker.

chris carrying about four clothing bags and you carrying three sephora bags headed back to the car. putting the bags in the backseat you sat in the front as he got in the drivers seat.

“i love you so much chris. thank you for today, you know you didn’t have to.” you smiled at him. god he was gonna lose it if you smiled at him like that again.

“i do have to, i’m never going to not spoil you. i love you too, okay?” he lifted your chin with his index and thumb and placed a light kiss on your lips. “still liking that cherry flavor, ma.” he licked his lips, smirking. you rolled your eyes as he plugged in the aux cord.

“oh lord, what’re you about to play now?” you looked at him. “you’ll see.” he grinned at you.

“Go, go 'head (Go, go, go)”

“oh my god, chris.” you smiled, knowing he was playing Fancy by Drake. he started to head bop to the beat, you joined in after a little while.

“this song was made for you baby.” he says, driving out the parking lot. “that’s what you think.” you looked out the window, listening to the song.

“oh you fancy, huh?” chris sang along with the lyrics.

——

when you arrived back home, you both took the bags inside and placed them upstairs as you started to get unready.

chris was now in grey sweatpants and a white shirt, while you removed your makeup and wore one of chris’ shirts and nothing but underwear underneath.

chris laid back in the bed, waiting for you to finish whatever you were doing. you came out, no makeup or anything like that on. “you still look so pretty. how am i so lucky to have such a beautiful girl?” he opened his arms as you climbed into them.

you laid on his chest, his right arm around your waist and your right leg across his. he used his other arm to pull up the covers, and then placed it back on you.

“thank you baby.” you lifted your head a bit to look at chris, then scooted up a bit to cup his cheeks in your palms, and placed a bunch of kisses all over his face. you wanted to show him how thankful you are for a man like him.

“stop kissing me im seriously about to lose it.” he halted your actions. you went back down to your position, chris rubbing your back in up and down motions.

you get more comfortable as your eyelids started to feel heavier, falling asleep in your boyfriends arms.

[shidouryusm]

𓆩♡𓆪✿༝༚༝༚ -> You're so cool. It makes me hate you so much

Kuroo x reader (gn)

word count- 2.5k words (excuse me wtaf?!)

content: hinted rivals to lovers, mutual pining, lots of bickering between reader and kuroo, mention of cunt (not in smut way).

A.n -> once again this is my worded desire of having a rivals to lover trope in my life. Also it's my first time attempting so let me know how it is. not proofread bruh it's almost 2:30am here.

The night arrives with all its glory of darkness. People marching out in costumes – fake  crimson blood dripping off the sides of their lips while face smothered in white paint, or dark cloaks shrouded their body while a skull mask decorated their face.

Loud music blares into life through the screen of your phone as you watch a small snippet of a party that was getting wilder and wilder via your bestfriend/roomate’s instagram story. She just took a swig of her drink and you were concerned how is she going to hold herself up.

Hollers of enjoyment and rhythmless singing along to songs were mixed with the deafening bass of music.  Everyone was out and about…everyone except you. 

Well, with a stuck up snob as a professor who assigned a report immediately the morning after and with final exams edging near, you had no option but be the bummer and cancel on all invites, leaving your costume hanging sadly on your closet and get down with laptops and notes. 

Frustrations bubbles inside you and FOMO nearly kills your motivation to even study. You put aside your phone, not indulging in moping over other people’s stories anymore. A sigh leaves your lips as you continue finishing the report you wished you didn’t procrastinate. 

Your mind still ponders over the party that you could have went to.

“well at the end, the little A’s splayed all over the grade sheet would be worth all of it.”

You attempt to console yourself. You shall compensate by scoring the top on the finals and rub it on the face of a certain ravenette. Smiling devilishly at the thought.

You hate to admit but a majority part of you keens to perform the best in this elective course that has remotely no relation with your major is to beat that one particular student in your class.

Kuroo Tetsuro. 

The overachieving dumbass nearly topping every exam that he takes. Waltz around the campus with a smirk that urges all the nerves in your body to break through and act on their accord to strangulate him. It’s been only the second time that you matched a course with him but no one in university was more competent than him when it came to pop a vessel in your forehead. 

You don’t even recall how the dynamic between you two ended up like the way it is but you would rather throw yourself from a cliff, down into a lake of acid before thinking about being civil, let alone be friends with him. 

Maybe you are exaggerating, you consciously think, before the memory of him completely destroying your arguments in a debate just a few days back resurfaced in your brain. 

The smug smirk and quirked eyebrows that he flashed your way after the professor referred his points as “seemingly unbeatable” and “you could learn a thing or two from him!!” made your insides fill with bitter grudge against him once again.

But are you the one always getting the short end of the stick? Absolutely not. You are positive that your feelings are reciprocated by him whenever you raise your hands to critic his works. The narrowed hazel eyes and scorned face mirrors all your emotions whenever you bite back his words with equal wit and banter, effectively shutting him up. And that fills you with brimming satisfaction. 

However, amidst this back and forth competition of getting the better grade and constantly critiquing each other, your eyes don’t miss out the way he looks. The unmissed tension that lies between the space whenever you both get in close proximity always leaves you a little breathless, like you’re holding your breath whenever he’s this close. The way his lips looks so glossy whenever your eyes land on them. Your mind subconsciously wondering how they might ta-

Tsk

You snap the book shut and click your tongue in annoyance. Why are you even thinking about him? Pretending that your brain did not just conjure the thought seconds ago, you open your book and return back on doing your work, your mind occupied with newfound competitiveness against him. 

--

The clock hit 10 pm when you rose from the chair, your back stiffened from being in this position, like any wrong movement could crack it. You decide on a quick shower to relieve yourself from the piling stress and stiffness. 

Just as you were finishing up with your skincare, humming while a towel robe drapes your body and hair saturated with water, a series of doorbell broke through your comfortable bubble. Constantly pressing the button like some stubborn kid wanting a trick or treat. 

“If you keep on ringing like that, you best believe I'm tricking your whole lifetime” you mutter as you hurriedly prod towards the door. Opening it with a bit more force, you are met with your stumbling roommate, head hung low and the smell alcohol reek off her. Her feet barely doing any work to balance her and no sooner than that, she topples over, wrapping herself around you.

“Yui?! Oh my goodness. YUI! Are you okay?” you barely register the second person accompanying her as you try to retrieve your passed out bestfriend.

“I don’t think she’s gonna wake up anytime soon”, the deep voice rang through your ears. Your brain processing it two times to reconfirm you actually heard that before your eyes finally landed on the second company. 

His hair was spiked up as usual in his bed hair. Eyes the same batch of hazel and honey. A white dress shirt adorned his upper half, sleeves rolled till the forearms and finally your eyes zooms on his nearly cat-like face. 

“What on earth are you doing here?” your tone carrying equal measures of accusation and surprise. He scoffingly laughs, “well I certainly did not drop by for a chat and some tea time with you. If you haven’t really noticed, your bestfriend is shitfaced to the point of no return. So me, being the gentleman I am, dropped her off.”, you roll your eyes till it reaches your forehead, a snide chuckle escaping your mouth.

“Humour me. You and gentleman don’t exactly fit in one sentence.” you taunt, drawing a sigh out of him. 

“Just like you and compassion, kindness, gratitude, appreciation do not?” he sneers. Before you can retort, you feel Yui’s weight slip off of you and you hastily try to balance her before she falls face down.

But an unconscious person carries weights like a sack of boulders, making it difficult for you to handle. You look over Yui’s shoulder to see Kuroo still standing, a look of pure amusement plastered on his face as he enjoyed the mess in front of him.

“Mind helping?” you bite back at him, barely able to hold the now tumbling Yui. Kuroo swiftly steps in, draping one of Yui’s hand over his neck and balancing her. 

“There’s a nice word called “please”, but of course you wouldn’t know.” you hear him mutter breathily. 

“People lend a hand voluntarily without asking in such situations but ofcourse, kuroo the entitled tetsuro needs a laminated invite card” you dryly say, watching his eyes narrow and mock hurt creeping up on his face. 

“For someone looking pretty as you, you surely got a foul mouth” kuroo hums and you act like your heart didn’t do an unsolicited somersault at that, you clear your throat, muttering a low "anyways" and focus on guiding your bestfriend from the threshold of the door to her bedroom. 

Grin crawls on kuroo’s face knowing he did hit it where it was supposed to be. 

Once settled into the bedroom, you carefully take off her shoes, and remove little of the makeup that she got smeared all over. Her hair was matted with tangles and a little remnant of her puke dried on the side of her lips, that you quickly wipe with a wet towel. 

“What made you all drunk like you lost your lover, Yui?” you wonder out loud. Yui was in no condition to answer so the only response you received from her were snores.

Kuroo chuckles behind you, the sounds of his laughter making you turn. He was leaning against the study table. His stance radiating confidence and ease even in the silent room.

“Haven’t you got a party to attend?” you ask him. He clicks his tongue, “nah not feeling it anymore. I already got out of there with your piece of a work best friend so don’t really see a point going back.”

“Did she talk your ear off with her breakup lore?” you genuinely laugh. The sound of it reaching Kuroo’s ear, further travelling down to his heart, tugging at a string. 

“I wouldn’t say she was a sad drunk, she was hollering, singing tunelessly throughout the car, surely embarrassed the shit out of me”

“Well, if there’s anything that is left of you to get embarrassed, that is. Pretty sure she cockblocked you rightly” you say slyly.

“Says you. Weren’t you destroyed in pieces in that debate? Should have learned a thing or two from me” kuroo snorts out his sardonic laughter as he parrots your professor’s words back at you. Purposely riling you up. 

You step in closer, jabbing your pointer at his chest, “listen you. You made points stupid enough to leave anyone clueless right at that time” you hiss. Stupid counter-attack but he really grinds your gear with comments like that. 

“Points stupid enough to be “unbeatable”. Let’s accept it, sweetheart, I was better. Wouldn't kill you to do this” he grabs your pointer finger, bringing it close to his lips. For a sec, you think he's gonna kiss but he soon lets it go.

Acting like a million thoughts didn't run through your head, you quip against him.

“Uh huh? who’s leading the assignments and questionnaires then?” you proudly retort to which Kuroo shakes his head. His face inches closer, closer till remnants of his cologne hits your nose. 

“Is this why you stayed at home? Busy being a nerd? Didn't digest your defeat well?” you can feel the jeering lilt in his voice, and closely enough you could even see little evil horns sprouting at the top of his head. 

“looking for me in the crowd? Also being ahead in your work doesn’t count as being nerdy. It’s productive. I’m pretty sure I’m way ahead of you while you slack away in parties” 

“Oh yeah? What if I was?” Kuroo steps towards you, scooting a bit to the right. Now towering over your figure. You unknowingly took a step back and press against the edge of the table. You could make out how sculpted his body was underneath the white shirt, illuminated with the golden light radiating from the study table. His hands reach against your sides, knuckles brushing against the towel robe. You momentarily forget you were in nothing but a robe like that and soon heat creeps up over your cheeks and neck. He dips down till he’s face level and now you could make out the pools of honey that his eyes possess. The shirt was unbuttoned till the first two buttons and that exposed a healthy part of his collarbones and the expanse of his neck. The space between you thick with the tension and shared breath and your eyes once again land on his lips, to which you lick your own. 

Kuroo cages you between him, the scent of your shampoo now directly reaching his nose. It’s so significantly you that he audibly inhales, the sweet fragnance of creamy vanilla and coconut engulfing his senses. 

" you were what?" you glare.

"What if I was looking for you in the crowd? Had a few things to say anyways" his stare was intense, voice holding a little rasp and breathlessness that skipped a few of your breaths as well.

Kuroo wouldn't lie, he actually felt grateful for the drunken Yui back there for landing him into this situation.

The moment you had opened the door and he discovered you like that, he was itching to be closer to you. His knuckles brush against the soft fabric of your towel as he grips the table on either sides of you. His eyes landing on the way you lick your lips and he tries his best to not get ahead and close the gap between them. His mouth curves into a smirk at your faltered expression, drinking in the way you look so cute. 

How can a girl with whom he engages in a tooth and nail fight when it comes to academics can invade his thoughts like that? Randomly popping in his thoughts throughout the day and making his insides feel giddy. The front he has to put up to prevent his real emotions reaching his face makes him feel like a teenager with a stupid crush. So he acts his usual self, suppressing all the little hints of affections and thoughts he harbours for you.

But to his relief, he is sure that he is not the only one who feels the exact same way. Annoyance, competition mixed with the little hint of affection. Constantly wanting to push each other to perfection and having thoughts that blends perfectly with one another. Without the constant bickers, you both would be a team that is formidable. 

You don’t know how much time has passed while you are still like this. Your hands rest against the table right beside his and you look at him. Not wanting to break the little staring competition god knows who started. Kuroo reaches over your ear, his breath tickles you slightly as he whispers your name. Your heart thrums like it is daring to leap out. His voice holding a musky timbre and the way it sounded like dulcet almost made you forget all the times he made you want to strangle him. 

“Tetsuro…” you reply with a breathy air, not daring to break the silence that has befallen. The light snores were drifting away into the background and the only place mattered to you was this little section where you and kuroo were attached. 

“Tetsuro huh? Not sure I’d ever let you call me kuroo again, darling” his lips curve into a smile and you shamelessly ogle them. Apart from the times he manages to be the menace, he really is handsome. it is not your first time registering it but the way you are looking at him like it’s the first time is really debatable. 

“I’ll call you an insufferable cunt instead” 

“Ouch that hurts” he grumbles, still unmoving. His left hand slide over the table and it’s almost encircling you. His face scoots closer to you as if a millimeters distance will close the synapse between you. He reaches over your ear once again, finding amusement in the way it causes you to shiver ever so slightly. “You have to know this, Y/n.” kuroo huskily says. 

Anticipation bubbles inside you, as you itch to know what he’s gonna say next. 

“It’s just…I…” you wait with patience, intrigue written all over your face.

“I…already submitted up the report that you slacked on and had to finish it, leaving out on all the fun.” he brings out a file that you had freshly printed out before shower, “impressive work, darling. But as always there are some mistakes you ought to fix” 

“KUROO TETSURO GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE” you bombard him with a series of slaps across his chest while he half-heartedly dodges them, his unfiltered hyena laughter ricocheting off the room. Yui groans in the background to which you both pause before you silently launch your onslaught of attacks.

In a series of punches and slaps, you drag him towards the exit door when he grabs your hand, stopping you. Tugging your closer, this time his hands wrap against your back and once again he crouches down, whispering against your ear, an act that you discover freezes you against him.

Unfortunately enough for you, he seems to realise that too. 

“You should let Yui get shitfaced like this often so that I get the lucky opportunity to see you in a towel robe more. See you tomorrow, sweetheart.” His fingertips traces your jawline before his hands reach down your head and give a gentle pat.

uhh..what.

The tapping of foot indicates he has left, his presence still enveloping you, along with the hint of his cologne wafting through the living room. You contemplate on calling in sick tomorrow.

Damn you, Yui.

I'm not sure how to feel about this. may not be my absolute favourite but this is very self indlugent (not surprising). This is very rushed and it's me writing about kuroo after such a long time so lmk how I did!!

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated.

tagging: @tetzoro , @kuroosexuall , @itadorey (cos I saw u not being able to see the posts on dash :(( ), @sookisaurus @quirrrky @sir-kuroo (I looked at the tags and went :0 I deadass thought I had tagged you, my most longest kuroo lover moot in this app how could I not include you im so sorry boo)

[jeewrites]

Hold Fast | Ch. 7 Coffee & Donuts

Rating: Mature for chapter (Series is Explicit, this blog is 18+ MDNI)

Summary: It's a rainy day and Frankie is bummed about everything going on with his ex-wife Vanessa and the impending change to the custody agreement. You convince Frankie to go with you for some coffee and treats. Reader has a car named Blue.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who's still reading the series! Life things, grief things, a lot happened since the last update, but I am going to see this series through with Sweets and Frankie. (I've actually written the last chapter believe it or not, but I just need to uh, get them there!) Thank you always for being the best beta @bloviating-vy <3

Word Count: 1.5k (it's mostly fluff y'all)

Chapter Tags/Warnings: TF AU, no y/n, fictional description of custody arrangements, aggressive driving, brief mention of wedding/anniversaries/honeymoon, Tom owns a bar called Redfly's, Pope owns a gym, alternating POV

Series Masterlist

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It seems like everyone has the same idea as you, crowding into the latest ‘it’ coffee shop, a warm beacon on this grey, drizzly day. Scrunched together at a two-top you could see the noise and crowd grating Frankie’s already low mood, despite the six shots of espresso over ice cradled in his hand. He picks at the pain au chocolate you’re sharing.

“You gonna pick out all the chocolate and just leave the pastry for me?” you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, slouching back into his chair and taking a large gulp of his coffee. It is a damn miracle he is not vibrating out of his seat into another dimensional plane. Six fucking shots of espresso.

“Hey,” you say softly, placing your hands over his. “It’s going to work out. Might be hell for a bit, but we’ll get through it. I'm here for you, okay?”

Frankie perks up at the we. He hadn’t said it in so many words but you could tell the custody change demands from Vanessa were stressing him out on so many fronts. It was frustrating enough strategizing with his lawyer, not to mention his worry about being enough for Gabi, doing a good job as a dad, and the thought of juggling full-time custody along with his job. But also how it would impact your relationship. Despite the reassurances you'd given him that you considered him and Gabi a packaged deal, you knew he still harbored doubts, plagued by insecurity.

When someone jostles you hard enough to nearly spill your coffee, you abruptly stand up. The coffee and pastries are doing shit all to improve his mood, but you still have one trick up your sleeve.

“C’mon, let’s go,” you declare, chucking the half-mangled pastry into the trash. The poor lamination of the dough didn’t make this one worth saving. Frankie slams the rest of his espresso and shuffles towards the door behind you.

Even though you’re driving, Frankie hustles over to open the car door for you before sliding in on the passenger side. You know how defeated he’s feeling when he hadn’t insisted on driving this morning. Frankie always wants to drive.

Frankie quirks an eyebrow at you when leaving the shopping center, turning away from the direction of his house. You just shoot him a cheeky wink as you continue driving in comfortable silence. Trundling along in no particular hurry.

Eventually, you pull into the completely deserted student parking lot at the local high school. Puddles dot occasional parking spots and the air is thick with moisture. It’s no longer raining outside but the clouds hang heavy, occasionally spitting, threatening to pour again. You gently pull to a stop near one corner of the lot and grab your phone. He’s not sure what you’re looking for as you scroll through your music app and the car idles.

You finally look at him with a shy smile as you click your phone back into its holder. “You trust me, Frankie?”

“Umm, as long as you’re not about to murder me and dump my body in the ditch over there, baby,” Frankie responds looking around with hesitant but soft eyes, open to whatever you are trying to do to cheer him up.

“Awesome,” you exclaim, perking up, caffeine pumping through your veins. You flip off the A/C and traction control and hit play on your music app. Classical music starts to build on the car’s stereo system. “Hang on!”

You floor it.

Frankie is pretty sure you threw the car directly into second gear, screaming down the long side of the parking lot before executing a perfect pendulum turn around one of the light poles. Whipping the rear of the car around before accelerating towards the middle of the lot and pulling the e-brake briefly, deftly maneuvering the steering wheel before stomping on the gas. Your car dances with you in beautiful arcing donuts. Exiting the last revolution, you rev the engine, before charging towards another light pole at the far end of the parking lot. The tires squeal as you drift around the light pole and floor it again. Frankie’s gripping the oh-shit bar with his right hand as his left presses into the roof of the car. He can’t even let out a yelp as you punch the gas and the air out of his lungs.

He has enough of his wits about him to count the revolutions in the next set of donuts, an impressive 1440 degrees before power sliding around the perimeter of the parking lot for good measure. It suddenly occurred to him why you had red tape marking the 12 o'clock on your steering wheel. You finally drift the car to a stop in the middle of the lot.

You look over and grin at Frankie, looking far too much like a Benny grin, before asking him, “How ya feeling now, baby?” You reach over to take a sip of your coffee, not a drop spilled in the chaos. You eye him with such innocence as if you didn't just pull the ridiculous stunt you just did.

“Uh…” Frankie lets out a hiccuped laugh, still clutching the grab handle, slowly lowering his left hand from the roof. Adrenaline and caffeine coursing through his body, fizzing and sparking up his esophagus that escapes into a giggle?!? Perhaps six shots of espresso was a bit excessive. He feels a slow smile spread across his face, grinning like a maniac back at you, surprised, amused, touched at your antics to cheer him up.

“Better,” he punches, all air and no menace, trying to hold in more unruly giggles.

“Hmm, that's a no,” you smirk at him before pedaling the gas a few times, looking for any sign he wanted you to stop. When he continues grinning at you, you throw the car in reverse, dancing with the e-brake, clutch, and gas pedal, whipping donuts in reverse, once, twice, before throwing it into first and gunning it to drift figure eights around the light posts. The car slips and slides across the wet pavement, the smell of rubber and rain thick in the air, as you maneuver the car with absolute focus and control.

Frankie’s better prepared this time, enough to appreciate your agility and skill as you work, dance really, with your car. It is sort of like a dance, Vivaldi’s music swirling up and up, crescendoing, as you spin the car faster and faster. He lets out a whoop and you smile, alert eyes on the road, before letting one out yourself. As the song crests and falls, you powerslide the car around a light pole and cruise to a stop, allowing the car to idle, breathing heavily from wrangling all that torque and excitement.

“Better?” You glance at him again, eyes playful and sweet.

He grins wide this time, “Yeah, baby, much better. Always better with you.”

You reach out and slide your warm hand into his, squeezing lightly. “Good.” You pause for a moment before adding quietly, “Thanks for trusting me.”

“You know what would make it even better?” He smirks, dimples dancing, eyes bright again.

“What’s that?”

“Let me drive.”

You jerk your hand back from his and playfully shove him, “FRANCISCO MORALES. Blue is MY baby. Only I get spin her like this.”

Frankie knows better, but he presses you anyway with pouty lips and puppy dog eyes.

“Absolutely not, Morales. Maybe, maaaybe after we’ve celebrated our 5th wedding anniversary, THEN you can drive her.” Your eyes widen in panic at the slip of the word wedding. You hadn’t talked about the M word yet.

Frankie furrows his brows in mock seriousness and he can see your panic rise, worried he may have taken it the wrong way.

“How about after the honeymoon?” he negotiates, his voice like a purr. He knows what he's doing. You release a nervous giggle that sets Frankie off, laughter bubbling up from his throat until you’re both cackling with tears until one of you snorts. It was definitely you.

“First anniversary,” you giggle back, hiccuping and wiping away happy tears.

“Deal.”

You shake on it, but instead of releasing your hand, he pulls you in closer for an espresso-laced kiss.

When he finally pulls back, cupping your chin between his thumb and index finger, your soft eyes search him before asking, “You really feel better?”

“Yeah.” He offers a warm, touched smile. He tilts your chin up to him as he presses one more chaste kiss on your lips.

“Wanna dance one more time before we go home?” You arch one eyebrow, one hand on the steering wheel, one hand on the shifter.

Home.

“Hell yeah,” Frankie grins back at you. He thinks maybe you have an inkling, and know how everything is better in his life when you’re there. He’s already home. You’re his home.

Frankie hits play on your music app. As Vivaldi resumes over the speakers you launch Blue down the parking lot, full throttle, tires screaming, a blue streak of rubber and rain.

End Note: The song Sweets puts on is Vivaldi's Winter from The Four Seasons. She hits the gas at the 0:40 mark.

Example of Pendulum Turn Handbrake Turning in Rally Driving

Taglist is open: @katareyoudrilling @christinamadsen @rebel-held

@littlemisspascal @burntheedges @darkheartgatita

@enretrogue @titabel @copperhalfcent

@triplefrontier-anniversary @iamskyereads

[cherriqa]

+.*i get those goosebumps every time*.+

SUMMARY: he just cant shake the feeling that somebody knows... let alone his own wife..

NICK GOODE (1994) X FEM! READER

MASTERLIST : HERE

AUTH NOTE: aahhhdgfgy first fic!! based on the song goosebumps by Travis Scott 😍😍😍😍 (update, it’s been like 5 months since i started writing this.. i’m so sorry 😭😭🫶🫶)

"hello?" you ask, twirling the landline phone cord between your index and middle finger. "shit, sorry hun.." you notice the voice instantly, its your husband Nick. "sorry forr..?" you trail off, now curious. "um.. ill be home late again." his voice is low and laced with slight malice. "oh." is all you manage to say. you turn to look back in the dining room. your children are sitting happily at the table, eating spaghetti bowls.

"are you upset?" he questions, slightly nervous. "no! its fine.. ill put your food in the fridge then.." you mumble into the speaker. he sighs before speaking again. "listen, i gotta go but ill be back when you wake up. promise." he tries to sound as cheery as possible, but you can see right through the act. "okay, bye! i love you." you murmur with a small smile as the line clicks.

something is up, you can tell. you set the phone down before heading into the dining room and picking up your husbands plate. your daughter looks up at you, her curly pigtails bouncing as she swings her legs off the chair. “mommy… where’s daddy..?” she asks, her voice laced with worry. “baby, he’s fine.. he’s just caught up with work again.” you manage a smile. she nods before going back to eating.

about 4 hours later, you hear the door open and the familiar leather shoe footsteps. your husband in all his glory walks into the living room. “well hi there..” Nick says with a small grin. he walks over to you, sitting beside you on the sofa. “how was work..?” you ask, resting your head on his shoulder. he shrugs, “boring, as per usual.” the way he says it makes you giggle. “you’re sweaty, my love.” you kiss his cheek, making him smile again.

“ouch.” he jokes, standing up again. “i’ll go have a shower then.” you nod and watch as he turns around. “and by the way, could you find me that book.. um.. the one about criminology!” he recalls, to which you respond with a small “yup!” before you too, stand up.

you hear him walk up the stairs as you reach the bookshelf. as you look around, you spot a small knob out of the corner of your eye. you try to ignore it, thinking your vision is just playing tricks on you again. that is, until a passing train nearby causes the knob to rattle. you quirk your eyebrow, setting the newly found book down on the coffee table before inspecting the round knob closer.

as you get a better look, you realise that it belongs to a trapdoor that you happen to have never noticed. ‘strange..’ you think to yourself before turning it slowly. you’d think it’d be locked, considering you’ve never noticed it in your 8 years of living in your house. but it isn’t. the door slowly creaks open and the light from inside the living room shines into the small space.

upon further inspection, you spot a few candles, all of which definitely had been lit within the last few hours considering the faint smell of candle smoke. but also another thing worth noting, the two large stones with writing etched into them. one’s been fully covered, the second having almost just been started. you can only read the last 3 lines of the second stone.

RUBY LANE

THOMAS SLATER

RYAN TORRES

you make a face, weird that the last three shady side killer names are etched into.. wait.

what..?

[fastcardotmp3]

It’s 2002 and Jonathan Byers is back home again in Indiana. It’s 2002 and Steve Harrington hasn’t found a love worth fighting for since the one he lost to the Upside Down in 1986. It’s 2002 and they’ve almost found each other.  stonathan // rated T // 3 chapters // 15K total

read on ao3 // snippet under the cut:

“So you and Argyle, huh? Whatever happened there?” Steve questions bluntly around the lip of his bottle. “I would’ve thought he’d come with you if you were moving for the gig and all.” 

Jonathan makes a face, not sheepish or ashamed, but just a face, and then he breathes out a breath which is almost a laugh. 

Steve is coming to realize that Jonathan is a man of almosts. It’s like everything he does isn’t quite on the nose enough to be considered concise or black-and-white in its existence. He’s on the precipice of vulnerability with every breath he takes while just as much keeping one foot in his own little armored pocket of safety at all times. 

It’s kind of infuriating. 

It kind of feels nice just to recognize it at all. 

“Yeah, uh,” Jonathan clears his throat, leaning back on both elbows now and watching the roiling mass of people in the bar instead of Steve, “that didn’t quite work out.” 

Steve’s eyebrows hop high up towards his hairline. 

“For real?” he balks. “I figured you two were sorta locked in by this point.” 

“You figured, huh?” Jonathan looks at him, just out of the corner of his eye. Almost. 

“Oh, forgive me for being curious, man,” Steve deadpans, and earns a quirk of the lips from Jonathan in response. 

A roll of the eyes and a genuine snort of amusement. 

“We tried opening the relationship,” he shrugs, “he discovered he liked being open and I discovered I’m… not great at, uh, sharing.” 

Steve can’t help himself but laugh. Not maliciously, or at least not intending to be, but just because it will never fail to shock him just how well he gets Jonathan Byers sometimes. For all of their differences, every once in a while the guy will just say something that Steve has never been able to put into words but has felt his entire life to be true. 

“Better man than me for even trying,” he says through his laughter, leaning a forearm onto the bar and letting it hold his listing weight. He can hear the bubble of Robin’s laughter over the music from somewhere on the dance floor, an easing thing to the beat of his heart and making it so he doesn’t need to look to check on her. 

He can stay just like this, watching the deft and practiced way Jonathan holds his bottle by the neck between long fingers, and then getting called out within an inch of his life by the calm and deadpanned tone behind, “oh wow, you a little bit possessive? Never knew that about you, Harrington.”