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mochacoda · 1 day ago

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night d(r)ive | yjh

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x GN!Reader

Synopsis: Jeonghan is the kind of guy who would drive 40 minutes out of his way just to pick you up, but also wouldn’t yield the last ramen at the local convenience store to you. He’s also the kind of guy people are quick to fall for, only to get crushed by his indifference for dating. As a close friend of the most sought-after man on campus, you’d like to think that you know Jeonghan well enough to predict his thoughts on romance and his territoriality over ramen. (Spoiler: You don't.)

Content: Angst, Fluff, Comfort | Friends to Lovers | College AU

Tags: short hair jeonghan, extreme pining, liking ramen as a plot device, crying, being losers for each other, insecure reader, lots of konglish w/ translations, overly indulgent kissing, no "y/n,” this is for everyone who voted jeonghan in the poll <3

Word Count: 5.8K

Masterlist

You‘d like to think that you know Yoon Jeonghan well. Surely, you do! Over the years, you‘ve come across—and committed to memory—dozens, if not hundreds, of his little oddities. You’ve witnessed his personality change with the length of his hair, and learned the hard way that cheating at card games is like second nature to him. At this point, you can recite more information about his pet rock than ramen, which is somewhat terrifying if you dwell on it for too long, considering that ramen is your favorite food.

But despite Jeonghan’s chaotic personality, you also know that he’s incredibly smart, having sat next to him in countless college lectures and trivia events.

Honestly, it can’t possibly be a stretch to say that you know the man too well, can't it? And at times, it feels a bit unfair that you can only reply, “oh, I know him,” when people fleetingly mention him in conversation. It hurts that you can’t clarify that you know him—that you can’t ramble on about how he made the stupidest joke to make you laugh when you were upset about your most recent midterm, or handmade you the sweetest present for your birthday, or let you choose your favorite film for movie night for the third time in a row—because no one wants to nor needs to hear about it.

But, unfortunately, that’s all you can think about these days.

Because, unfortunately, Yoon Jeonghan is simultaneously the funniest, weirdest, kindest, and most devastatingly handsome man you’ve ever met.

Yoon Jeonghan is the kind of guy who would drive 40 minutes out of his way just to pick you up, but also wouldn’t yield the last ramen at the local convenience store to you. Though he gives into his internal demands for petty possessiveness quite often, he cares deeply for his friends.

He’s also the kind of guy people are quick to fall for, only to get crushed by his nonchalant but somewhat firm indifference for dating. You’ve witnessed him casually turn down far too many objectively gorgeous and incredibly intelligent people, which has convinced you that his standards are impossibly high. And if you were honest with yourself, based on the people he’d already rejected, it would be laughable for you to even think about confessing to him.

And so, as a close friend of the most sought-after man on campus, you’d like to think you know Jeonghan well enough to predict his thoughts on romance and his territoriality over ramen.

In fact, you’re sure about the ramen issue, because you’re witnessing it happen right now.

You’re staring at his smirking face in the instant food aisle of the convenience store, both of you gripping the last Neoguri cup like it’s a trophy.

“You gotta learn patience,” Jeonghan tuts, his lips upturned infuriatingly at one corner.

“No, you should learn patience. 손 빼, [Take your hand off,]” you demand, grasping the cup tighter.

“싫은데? [Don’t wanna,]” he says in a sing-song voice, raising his chin in defiance.

The ramen cup creaks slightly under the pressure of your combined grip, and a terrible thought forms in your head. Your hand is sandwiched between his hand and the cup, making you feel the heat radiating from his body. It’s something you’re afraid you could get used to.

You narrow your eyes, targeting his ridiculous, perfect lazy smile. “Take it off while I’m being nice.”

“Nah,” he replies immediately, smiling wider, his tongue sliding to the right.

Your heart lurches at the sight.

“치사하게 진짜 이럴 거야? [You’re so petty, are you really going to be like this?]” You chew on your bottom lip, eyes flitting between his face and his hand.

Jeonghan tilts his head slightly, his dark eyes sharp and steady on yours. He’s not really looking at the ramen anymore, and the intensity of his gaze makes your cheeks feel like they’re on fire.

“내가 여기서 이 옷을 입고 있는데, [I’m wearing these clothes here,]” he says, using his free hand to pinch the fabric of the expensive suit he always wears at his internship. “굳이 라면 하나 때문에 나랑 싸운다고? 그냥 빨리 가자, 음? [You’re really gonna fight with me over just one ramen cup? Let’s just go now, hmm?]”

You press your lips together and jut your chin in defiance.

He sighs dramatically, shaking his head. His shaggy, dark hair flows with it, and you can’t help but think that he looks princely like this, standing in the middle of this convenience store with his stupidly gorgeous face, and that dumb suit and tie.

“양보해. [Give it up.] I’ll give you whatever you want,” he says, his voice dipping lower. It feels less like an offer and more like a taunt, a challenge. His tone sends a small shiver through you, and for a second, you’re not sure if he’s teasing or serious.

You have to take a slow, deep breath to calm yourself down before even considering what to say next. You’re grateful for the ride (and his company), of course, but that doesn’t mean he can steal your rightful claim under your nose, in the same casual manner he has when letting one of his fans down.

You’ve always given into him. Because he means everything to you, of course.

But you’ve had enough of letting him have his way so easily, not with your precious ramen at risk.

You boldly step closer to him, cutting the distance between the two of you in half. You’re close enough to see your reflection in his eyes, now.

“I’m not letting go, 하니 [Hannie].” You firmly shake your head. You wouldn’t let him win this time. “I don’t want anything but this,” you add, stubbornly.

Tugging hard, you try to pull the cup toward you, but it frustratingly remains stuck on the shelf between the two of you. Looking back up, you see that he isn’t even straining to keep the ramen in place! You frown, wondering when your best friend got so strong.

He leans in just a fraction closer. “Keep trying,” he murmurs, and he’s so close that you can feel his warm breath tickling your face.

The world narrows to Jeonghan, and the faint scent of the cologne he only wears on weekends. It’s dizzying.

“야아아! [Hey!] I was here first!” you weakly defend, voice embarrassingly squeaky.

And then Jeonghan does something that completely short-circuits your brain.

His free hand lifts and brushes your hair away to your back, before resting on the divot between your neck and collarbone, where his thumb caresses the side of your neck. Feather-light, his touch is gentle, and his fingers are impossibly warm, a stark contrast to this slightly chilly convenience store. You just about choke on your surprise, your heart kicking into overdrive at the sheer intimacy of the gesture.

God, how is it that you never get a rest day with Jeonghan? How is it that he’s always flirting, always disregarding the boundaries of platonic and romantic love, always making you confused? And how is it that you just let it happen, that you just take whatever affection he gives you? How is it that you’re drawn into his dangerous touch like a moth to a flame? Except that analogy doesn’t really work, because at least moths don’t know that they’re in danger when they reach fire—you know what you’re getting into, and you know all too well that Jeonghan will never be yours.

“Please?” he whispers.

Your breath hitches, suddenly aware that even for your overly-touchy friend, this level of skinship is extreme.

Does he know? Has he found out that you’re in love with him, that you’ve been keeping this ungodly secret from him for far too long? Does he know that every time he lets someone down, that every time he complains to you about people confessing and crying over him, you give him superficial laughs as you swallow your own feelings?

Does he know that you feel like sinking into the ground every time he entertains a random girl flirting with him, and that every time he crosses boundaries with you, it hammers in the fact that he thinks you’re a joke?

Does he know that you’ve spent over a year trying to convince yourself that you don’t have feelings for him, only to fail miserably, because there is no such thing as cutting Yoon Jeonghan out of your life, because he makes you feel so, so alive?

He must know. He must be making fun of you, now.

Your eyes widen, frantically searching his face for an ounce of malice. And you expect to see the look he always has when shredding the hearts of the brave people who confess to him, the face he makes when he casually tells someone that he doesn’t feel the same way. You expect to see an almost-cruel, blank stare paired with apologetic lips pressed together.

You expect him to crush your heart.

But instead, he’s staring at you with a gaze so, so, very soft, you wonder if you’ve hallucinated it. Shining eyes, raised eyebrows, mouth parted—he looks devastatingly beautiful.

You can’t even bring yourself to blink, afraid that it might disappear before you can commit it to memory.

Technically, he’s looked like this before—you’ve seen it a handful of times on movie nights when you leaned against his shoulder, sleepily rambling about the bad decisions the main character had made. You’ve always figured that it was just the face he made when he was running on eight percent battery, tired and only half-registering the words coming out of your mouth.

But now, seeing this version of Jeonghan out of its usual context, your heart stops.

Your grip slackens.

In an instant, Jeonghan takes advantage of your daze. He snatches the ramen, links his arm through yours, and drags you to the counter. Your feet stumble, but his hold on you is firm, keeping you stable throughout the entire sudden exchange. He sets a bill on the counter, and then you’re being ushered out of the convenience store.

The freezing cold bites at your cheeks as you stand in a haze of confusion by the passenger seat of Jeonghan’s car, unable to do anything but just watch as he starts the engine and unlocks the door. He stares at you through the window, waiting.

If you could move a muscle on your face, you’d furrow your brows, wondering what he’s waiting for. But you’re still frozen, and before you can really think about it, Jeonghan gets tired of waiting.

He gets out of the car and walks over to you, squeezing your shoulders as he shifts you a little to the left. Withdrawing one of his hands from your shoulders, he opens the door, and then maneuvers you inside, using the same hand to cover the top frame of the door. You bump your forehead slightly against it, and he buckles you into the passenger seat—all without a word.

When you blink owlishly at him, he just ruffles your hair and shuts the door carefully, then walks over to the driver’s side.

Dazed, you literally have nothing to say.

When Jeonghan gets back into the car, he looks over at you with an unreadable gaze, then reaches his hand over the console to you, this time holding an object out. Your eyes flicker downward, then shoot up at him immediately.

The ramen?

You squint at his outstretched hand, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief.

Jeonghan never yields.

“Take it,” he says simply, airily, as if his giving up was obvious all along.

You hesitate, finger lightly tracing the top of the cup.

“Come on,” he insists, his eyes still intensely trained on yours. “I… it was always yours.”

Your fingers close over the cup, brushing his hand. He exhales softly, the corners of his lips twitching.

Averting your eyes from him and his strange actions, you drop the ramen in your lap, then settle for staring outside the window at the night sky, finding it unbearable to look at him. Drumming your fingers against the border of the window, you get lost in thought. You’re not sure you can handle it if Jeonghan tries to flirt with you again. Every time he does it, it just hammers in the crushing idea that you’re nothing but a friend to him. That you’re just someone to practice on while he waits for the goddess of his dreams to appear, or something.

And then a strange thought occurs to you. A silly thought, really. When Jeonghan said that the ramen was always yours, he didn’t use the “ih” sound that the word “it” has. No, he used the pronoun “I” first, before correcting himself. A faint, pitiful smile makes its way to your lips as your heart pangs.

Just what would you give to hear him say “I was always yours” someday?

Oh, maybe everything.

────୨ৎ────

The gentle hum of the car engine fills the silence from the lack of conversation between the two of you. The moon and the stars are beautiful tonight, and you’re content with staring at them instead of the man driving the car. You prop your head up with your elbow against the window, closing your eyes with every lull of the engine. If Jeonghan ever looked over at you at a red light, you wouldn’t know, preoccupied with pretending to be asleep.

When you feel the car come to a complete stop, you’re still feigning sleep, but you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows slightly. Surely, 40 minutes haven’t already passed? It seems way too soon. Had you actually dozed off at some point between staring out the window and faking sleep?

You peek one eye open, only to startle at Jeonghan’s gaze trained on you already, immediately opening the other. He seems completely at ease, with one hand gripping the steering wheel and the other resting on the gear shift. He stretches his fingers, accentuating the veins on his forearms, and you have to avert your eyes for a moment.

“잘 잤니? [Sleep well?]” he asks casually.

You look back at him, and see a strand of his dark hair fall into his eyes. Fingers twitching, you fight the urge to brush it behind his ear.

You answer him with a nod and flush, wondering if he could tell you were acting the entire time. Hands itching for something to do, you fiddle with your seatbelt.

“야, 나 좀 보고 말해봐, 음? [Hey, can’t you look at me and talk, hmm?]”

You glance at Jeonghan out of the corner of your eye, then shy away again. He looks too good right now, too much like a doting boyfriend. You pick at a loose thread from the bottom hem of your shirt.

“자꾸 나를 안 보니까 섭섭하네. [You keep not looking at me, I’m sad.]”

You faintly laugh. In all your years of knowing the man, you’ve yet to see Yoon Jeonghan truly sad. He’s always, always composed. He never says anything without thinking about it first, and he doesn’t have to lift a single finger that he doesn’t want to, because he knows that people will jump just to fall at his feet. It’s funny that Jeonghan now just assumes that with a few pretty words, he’ll get his way.

But your resentment is growing. It started with the ramen, and built up with how he won at the end of the fight. And it peaked when he gloated under the guise of kindly yielding the cup to you, leaving you stranded in your confusion, leaving you to sort out your racing mind and heart. What’s worse is, he has a history of doing this to you. But you never learn. Because he also has a history of giving the best, warmest, longest hugs. And he tells you all the time that he wants to be with you forever, that even when you’re 80 and wrinkly, he’ll come over every day to sing duets using your karaoke machine. And he has a bad habit of staring into your eyes with so much adoration, that you mistake it for real love.

He has a history of making you think that his flirting might actually mean something real to him. But he never confesses any feelings, because they don’t exist, and you feel the pain of being used as romantic practice all the same.

You’ve tried to convince yourself to just accept his affections as platonic love, but it has become increasingly more difficult to ignore it. How can you, when you get a rush of serotonin from seeing how bright his smile is when he whispers an inside joke to you in the middle of your fatally boring math discussion? How can you, when Jeonghan insists on picking you up from work even though it’s a waste of time and gas for him to make the far drive here and back? Your heart has grown to accommodate, and even expect, the constant fluttering it feels in his presence.

So, to be exact, it’s not that you feel resentment toward him—it’s resentment for your lack of a backbone when it comes to all things Yoon Jeonghan. It happens all the time; you get mad at him, and the consequences last for all of five seconds before your will caves.

“근대, 안 섭섭하잖아, [You’re not sad, though],” you softly say, eyes now tracing the glow of the crescent moon.

Jeonghan shifts in his seat, questioning your words. ”What? Why would you say that?”

“아니야, [No,] forget it.” You sigh, eyes falling to your hands again. Picking at a hangnail, you inhale deeply.

“Why wouldn’t I be sad? I love talking to you.” He removes his hands from the wheel and gear shift, then reaches out for yours.

You flinch, and he freezes.

“Hey, did I… do something wrong?” His voice shakes, suddenly sounding strained. It’s the complete opposite of how he was just three seconds ago.

You swallow thickly. No, he didn’t do anything wrong. “아니, [No,] it’s my fault.”

He frowns. “What did I do? Please, tell me. I’m sorry, whatever it is, I can fix it, I promise.” He looks at you so earnestly, your heart sinks.

“그건 불가능해, 정한아. [That’s not possible, Jeonghan.]” The words come out slowly and breathily, as if it’s taken you half of your life force to say them. You stare out the window again, this time at the stars, and add, “We should really get back, now. Why’d you stop here, anyway?”

“I figured you didn’t eat yet,” he says carefully. “I thought you’d want to get Thai. When you’re hangry, you yell at the TV more, and I get complaints from my neighbors.”

You blink, turning your attention down to the stores lining the street rather than the night sky. Jeonghan really had driven to your favorite Thai restaurant. “Oh. I didn’t know I did that, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he replies softly. “I never liked my neighbors anyway.”

Your eyes close, remembering when one of your classmates, who happened to be his neighbor, confessed to him. He had vented to you about friends needing to understand when not to cross lines. The memory makes you smile weakly again, acknowledging how strong you’ve been for managing not to confess so far.

Jeonghan continues, “But hey, your neighbors don’t like me, either. Remember when they banged on your door because we were singing too loud?”

You laugh this time, and it’s fleeting but it’s not forced. “언제 쯤 얘기야? [How long ago was that?] That was like two years ago.”

Jeonghan smiles. “You were wearing those teddy bear pajama pants, and I had my Cookie Monster pants on. They were like 70, and told us to stop being childish and grow up.”

“Maybe they had a point,” you say with a sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I didn’t know that you paid attention to those things,” you add offhandedly.

“Pay attention to what?”

“You know, just… the stuff I wear, the random shit I do,” you say, picking at your split ends.

Jeonghan’s wide eyes narrow, and you feel too hot under his intense gaze.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asks, voice deep and tinged with something you can’t quite put a finger on. The question feels strangely charged. With what, you don’t know.

You gnaw on your lip.

“Answer me. Why shouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, feeling put on the spot. “I’m just your friend. Shouldn’t you be spending your energy remembering weird stuff about a girlfriend? Like a serious romantic partner, or something?”

Jeonghan groans, running a hand through his hair, before it comes down on the console with a light thud. Your eyes widen at his unexpected physical display of emotion, taking in his clenched fists and heaving chest.

“하니? [Hannie?]” you say softly, concerned. He doesn’t normally resort to physical exertions when frustrated, probably because he doesn’t get frustrated very often at all.

Your hand reaches out to his right bicep, where you rub the muscle soothingly.

“Now you’re calling me 하니 [Hannie] again,” he says with a marginally more relieved, deep sigh.

You furrow your brows. “What?”

“Now you’re calling me 하니 [Hannie] again,” he repeats. “Please, don’t call me 정한 [Jeonghan]. Only 하니 [Hannie].”

“Okay?” you say tentatively, unsure where this is going.

“You know I love you, right?” he says suddenly, staring at his hands.

You blink rapidly. “Of course. I love you, too.” He’s your best friend, but you’re probably not his best friend.

Jeonghan jolts, looking at you directly in the eyes now. “You know I love you more, right?”

He looks a bit crazed like this, his frantic chocolate brown eyes searching deeply for something in your face. At a loss for words, you gape your mouth at him like a fish out of water.

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” you manage to say. “I bet I love you a lot more.”

The statement is accompanied by a rather self-deprecating laugh from you, the kind that digs deep into your heart even as you try your best to seem casual.

“No, no,” he says, reaching with his left hand to grasp the hand you’ve been patting his right bicep with. This time, you don’t pull away. “You don’t get it. I love you.”

What?

Your heartbeat begins to beat so loudly that the sound of it pumping overwhelms your thoughts. Your chest tightens, and you’re half-sure that you just hallucinated it.

“뭐라고? [What did you just say?]”

“사랑한다고, [That I love you,]” he chokes out, his voice thick with the one emotion you’ve been dreaming of him reciprocating.

You gasp.

“Please,” he whispers. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

Oh.

Crestfallen, your heart drops. You pull your hand away from him.

This must be his new way to get you to relieve your “anger.” He doesn’t actually love you romantically, he just wants you to go back to acting like you normally do. He’ll never feel the same way that you do, in the crushing way that drives you insane every day, in the way that—

“설마, 나 지금 무시하는 거야? [No way, are you ignoring me right now?]” Jeonghan’s wounded gaze strikes you like lightning. “아니면, 나 못 믿는거야? [Or, are you not believing me?]”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

Is this real? A dream, maybe? The real Jeonghan would never say this. He would never, ever entertain the idea that you could ever be more than—

“내가 사랑한다고 했는데, 왜 아무 말이 없어? [I just said I love you, why won’t you say anything?]” Jeonghan’s voice quakes, and you’re taken aback by his pained, strained eyebrows and glittering eyes.

Jeonghan’s eyes well with tears. He swallows thickly, “나… 아니야? [Am I… not it for you?]”

Your breath catches. He’s crying. Yoon Jeonghan—Yoon Jeonghan is crying? You’ve never even seen him sad, let alone crying. He’s always been untouchable, effortless in the way he teases and flirts with you, so sure of himself. So nonchalant and casual with his affection, that you’d always thought he never truly meant anything by it. But here he is, raw and vulnerable in front of you, holding his heart out with both hands—eyes rimmed red, voice breaking, mouth trembling. All because of you?

He really means it, huh? The realization slams into you so hard you feel like you can’t breathe, let alone speak, your chest constricting like you’re having a heart attack. All those lingering touches, all these years. The way he’s always made you the center of his jokes, how he has the softest shifts in his voice when someone mentions your name—it wasn’t all a game to him? It was never just practice for someone else, for someone better?

It was love?

God, you had been so overwhelmed with self doubt and insecurity that you’d convinced yourself that you had no chance, all while he was giving you clues through his proud affections, every day.

The man in question looks at you like you’ve just shattered his fragile heart, tears fully trailing down to his chin, now.

Feeling like your entire body has been engulfed in flames, you reach a trembling hand out past the gear shift. It trembles despite yourself as your arm extends to caress his cheek, where you carefully rub his tears away.

Jeonghan shudders when your hand touches him, and he shuts his eyes. More tears fall.

“하니, [Hannie],” you breathe shallowly, still feeling an immense pressure in your chest. “Look at me.” When he doesn’t open his eyes, you swallow roughly. “하니, [Hannie], please?”

Stubbornly, Jeonghan keeps his eyes closed, and you shakily sigh. You want to tell him—no, you need to tell him that you love him with every fiber of your being, but you need to see his eyes to register whether he understands you. He needs to open those beautiful, brown eyes of his.

You’ve never told him that you love him in Korean before. Something about it always felt too intimate, while “I love you” in English felt less charged. But you think he needs to hear it now.

Withdrawing your hand from his cheek, you unbuckle your seatbelt at last. Finally freed, you shift your legs until you're sitting on the back of your calves, facing the stunning, devastated man in the driver’s seat.

“하니야, [Hannie],” you say softly, his name a prayer on your lips, your face coming near his.

You raise your hands up to tenderly brush the tears away from the soft tissue right under his eyes. Trembling, your right hand brushes a strand of hair out of his face, then rests on the back of his neck.

Heart threatening to jump out of your chest, you hesitantly move closer, and closer, until your lips gently meet his forehead in a kiss so light, you foolishly wonder if he even feels your lips there at all.

“하니야, 사랑해. [Hannie, I love you.]”

Jeonghan stills immediately. You can feel his hot breath catch against your neck, and you feel a shiver come down your spine.

“I don’t want anyone else. Just you,” you say choppily, each word spilling out before you can think about what you really just said.

When you retreat an inch or two back from his forehead, you can see that he has finally opened his eyes.

“You mean it?” he asks, voice high-pitched in disbelief.

Not trusting your voice, you nod three times.

“Say it again,” he begs, his red-rimmed eyes downturned.

“사랑해, 하니야 [I love you, Hannie]. I tried so hard not to. 내 마음을 접고 다른 사람을 바라보고 싶었어. 싶었는데… [I wanted to let go of my feelings for you and search for someone else. That’s what I wanted, but…]”

Jeonghan inhales sharply. Distressed, his Adam's apple bobs up and down. Your heart aches at the sight of him so exposed, and your thumb moves to rub soothing circles by his collarbone.

You assure him, “근데 그게 진짜 그냥 안 된거야. 도저히 너를 포기할 수 없었어. [But that really just didn’t work. There was no way I could bring myself to give you up.]”

Your fingers close to his neck, you feel Jeonghan’s pulse racing. Trying to help his heart settle down, you press another light kiss to his forehead, cradling the back of his head with your other hand. His breath shudders against your cheek.

“마음이 하니한테 만 끌리니까, 뭐… 포기하려고 노력을 했는데 소용이 없었어. [My heart was only drawn to you, Hannie, and well… no matter how hard I tried to give you up, it was no use.]”

Jeonghan blinks up at you with watery eyes.

“You’re it for me, 하니 [Hannie]. Okay?” Sheepish, you feel a bit embarrassed at having been so honest.

Now that you’ve bared your heart and soul to him, you take the opportunity to really look at him, since you were distracted with telling your part for the past few minutes—and, oh.

His pupils are so dilated, his eyes look almost black. His breathing has slowed down compared to earlier, but his fists are still clenched, like he’s holding something back.

In a low voice, so deep that it wouldn’t have been audible if you weren’t practically pressed against him, Jeonghan finally responds to your confession.

“You love me,” he says hesitantly, like he’s asking to confirm.

The corners up your lip turn up, and he grins. “You love me,” he says again, only louder this time, and then he’s leaning forward into you.

His hands find you first, clinging to your neck and waist sweetly yet firmly, like he’s afraid to let you go now that he finally has you.

When his lips meet yours, you melt into the kiss. His lips are warm, softer than you expected, moving against yours with an aching tenderness. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt as his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you in like he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

He tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss, and a shiver runs down your spine when his thumb brushes along the curve of your jaw. The touch is so careful, so reverent, like he’s memorizing every part of you.

Then, he pulls back just an inch—just enough for his breath to fan across your lips, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes, dark and unreadable, search yours as if needing confirmation.

"You love me? 진심이지? [You’re serious, right?]" His voice is barely above a whisper.

Your chest tightens at the sheer vulnerability in his expression. You cup his cheek, brushing your thumb against his damp skin, and nod. "사랑해, 하니야. [I love you, Hannie.] 진짜, [Really,] I always have."

A sound escapes him—somewhere between a laugh and a sigh of relief—before he leans in again, kissing you with more urgency this time. His hands tangle into your hair, fingers curling at the nape of your neck as he presses you impossibly closer. The kiss is deeper now, more certain. He parts his lips slightly, and you do the same, the heat between you growing into something undeniable.

Your hands wander—one slipping into his hair, the other trailing down his shoulder. He shudders under your touch, and you feel the tension slowly unraveling from his body, like he’s finally letting himself believe this is real.

When you finally part for air, he lets out a shaky laugh, thumb ghosting over your kiss-swollen lips. "You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this," he murmurs, his voice husky.

Your heart swells at the confession. "Actually, I think I do," you whisper back before pulling him into another kiss, this time knowing—without a doubt—that neither of you are going anywhere.

────୨ৎ────

“하니, [Hannie,]” you say, leaning against him on the sofa in your apartment, drawing random shapes on his chest with your right hand. “We should go on a drive again.”

“Mm, a drive?” he says, distracted by his fascination with observing your left hand, holding it like a precious gem.

“Yeah, 바람 좀 새자 [let’s get some air]. A night drive.”

His hands stall, lips curling up at the corners. “Oh, a night drive, huh? 역사적인 거네. [How historic.]”

You bury your face in his chest. “Mmh,” you say to his shirt.

“You know, you said 사랑해 [I love you] to me for the first time on a night drive,” he says casually. His hands let go of your left hand, then make their way to your head, patting your hair gently.

You prop your chin up on his stomach, expecting to see Jeonghan’s pure smile. But instead, he’s smirking at you.

“You wanted me so bad.” He sighs dramatically. “What else could I do, but accept your love?”

You can’t help but smile. “I think you’re misremembering things a little, 하니 [Hannie].”

“Oh, am I?” he gasps, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

If he were anyone else, he’d look stupid feigning ignorance. Fortunately for you, though, he isn’t anyone else—he’s the love of your life, and he makes everything look good.

“Ugh,” you say, eyes shining. “You look dumb, stop it.”

“You love it,” he says cheekily, arms falling from your head to wrap around you in a big hug.

“Mmfph,” you say in response, relishing in the warmth radiating from his body.

“Not denying it, I see,” he says. “Overwhelmed by your love for me, you dove at my poor, innocent self in the car, kissing me all over!”

“Pfft,” you laugh. “No, that was you!”

“No,” Jeonghan pouts.

“I happen to remember a little crybaby confessing first,” you say with an upside down smile, hugging him tighter.

Jeonghan’s eyes look up at the ceiling. “무슨 말인지… [I don’t know what you’re talking about…]”

“야아! [Hey!]” your hand slaps his chest lightly. “나 좀 봐봐, 음? [Look at me, hmm?]”

“싫은데? [Don’t wanna,]” he says, pouting.

“사랑해도 안 볼 거야? 섭섭하네… [Even if I love you, you won’t look at me? I’m sad…]” you huff, burying your face into the sofa pillows instead of Jeonghan’s chest. “하니가 안 사랑해주면 난 갈 거야. [If you don’t love me I’m gonna leave.]”

Jeonghan laughs, “가긴 어딜가, 여기 너네 집이잖아. [Leave? What do you mean, leave? This is your house.]”

Jeonghan hugs you tighter, then suddenly sits up, taking you with him.

“사랑해, [I love you,]” he says earnestly, staring deeply into your eyes, as if he wants to dive into the depths of your iris. Your name leaves his lips fervently, like a prayer.

“사랑해, 하니야, [I love you, Hannie,]” you say back, and you mean it.

Because Yoon Jeonghan is simultaneously the funniest, weirdest, kindest, most devastatingly handsome man you’ve ever met. And he’s yours.

Masterlist

Author's Note: here’s a big literary hug <3

Disclaimer: nothing i write is representative of how svt acts off camera, take their names as stand-ins for oc's!!

Taglist: @syluslittlecrows - @junplusone - @fragmentof-indifference - @junniesoleilkth - @woncheecks - @peachypie97 - @viciousdarlings - @11zzyy

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mejaemin · 3 days ago

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booseoksoon vday hcs ♡

day four of my valentine’s day countdown! ♡

wc: 1.3k on the dot (>ᴗ•)

summary: booseoksoon and how you spent vday with them !!! (individually)

warnings: fluff, loooots of love, shy seokmin, brief mention of showering tgt in soon’s, latte cameo !!!

an: this seems late to the teleparty celebration but it’s not !!! i started this as soon as it came out, i just had to wait for the event 😓😓 im so sorry hoshi’s is sm shorter than the rest but nonetheless i hope you all enjoy !!! happy advance vday !!!

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

boo seungkwan ♡

he said the night before that he would pick you up to celebrate, however what you didn’t expect was to wake up to his kisses, a hand on your head rubbing back and forth to wake you up

when your eyes open, he gets shy and heads toward the bedroom door with a ‘hurry up, i didn’t spend so much time for your food to get cold..’

once you get up you find the dining table with a velvet box and love letter, in the middle a heart shaped box with your favorite candies in it. sitting in cute heart shaped plates is the most beautifully plated breakfast, full of your favorite foods

the morning is so sweet, full of love and childish bickering as you exchange gifts and take photos in your sleepy states

seungkwan’s face is still very puffy with sleep, and he’s still got that tired look even though he’s been awake longer than you. he didn’t tell you but he definitely did wake up early to drive here and lay all your gifts out and cook breakfast, making sure you would wake up to nothing but the best. his hair is a little wet from the water he used to fix his beadhead, knowing better than to leave it the second he saw you raise your phone camera. regardless, he’s still not off the hook being that he’s basically nodding off at the table. you snap another photo before lowering your phone, reaching out for his hand and calling his name gently.

he reopens his eyes, lowering the fork from his mouth (he was holding it there in his half asleep state) before looking up at you. “god, don’t tell me you’re taking more photos. i’ll take all this back right now.”

you laugh, “you wouldn’t do that to me.. besides, don’t you want your gift?”

it’s then that he finally appears fully awake, sitting up expectantly. you laugh, reaching forward to pinch his cheek before going to fetch his gift. when you come back he’s cleared the table except for your gifts, and happily takes his from your hands. after a mutual agreement to open your gifts at the same time, you go ahead and open yours to reveal a beautiful set of jewelry. paired with it is a love letter, full of sweet words complimenting you and helping express seungkwan’s love for you, along with a few innuendos that you choose to ignore until later in the day. you look up to watch him open his, and he’s beaming brighter than the sun upon pulling out tickets for a trip back to jeju out of his present box.

lee seokmin ♡

seokmin was too scared to see your reaction to his heartfelt messages, ones that he waited until you were sleeping to write

thus, he made a point to wake up before you did and head out with the excuse of getting breakfast

you would know how shy he’ll get when he watches you open all his gifts, so he simply chooses to send a text message to you while he’s gone

‘good morning, sweetpea (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) happy valentine’s day! i’ve left a few gifts out on the table while i get breakfast, feel free to open them while i’m out ♡’

when you wake up on valentine’s day, you expect to feel your boyfriend lying beside you. reaching your arm out for his body, not feeling it against your own, you end up hitting cold bedsheets. immediately snapping your eyes open, you sit up against the headboard and look around. the room is empty, and when you look at his nightstand his phone is gone. grabbing yours, you open it to immediately call him when you’re met with his message. finally relaxing, you decide it’s enough sleep and get out of bed to make your way to the kitchen.

on the table there’s a gift basket, holding a plushie of a dog that’s eerily similar to your boyfriend along with heart shaped candies and a letter. underneath it is a heart patterned doily with rose petals scattered all over the table. with a smile you sit down, not forgetting to respond to his text before opening the folded piece of paper. you know very well that he’s shy about things like this, which is likely why he avoided being here when you looked at his gifts, too anxious to sit there and watch your reaction.

popping a piece of candy into your mouth, you read seokmin’s letter and it’s nothing short of what you expected. he always downplays his gifts, saying they’re nothing special, but his words always manage to touch your heart more than they did the year before. he really knows how to make your heart flutter, if it wasn’t evident by this already being your second valentine’s day together.

finally he comes in the front door, holding a bag from your favorite bakery and another from a breakfast place. he sets them down on the dinner table, pulling you in for a hug and a kiss before sitting down across from you.

“did you like your gifts…?” he asks shyly, cheeks already pink.

you take his hand, kissing his knuckles similarly to how he would to you. “of course, seokkie. they’re so cute, i’m so happy.”

you can see the way he lets out a breath of relief, and you laugh as he finally relaxes and tells you how he was yet again scared that it would disappoint you. just like last year, you remind him that you’d be happy even if he got you nothing, and his gifts will never not make you happy.

kwon soonyoung ♡

soonyoung’s probably the only one who would stay in bed with you in the morning, selfishly choosing to spend it how he likes.. next to you, even though it’s a win for both sides

he’d wake up with you, showering with you (it was his only request for the day) and getting ready to spend the holiday together

you’d have a light breakfast, packing up all the stuff to have a picnic together!

on the way you’d pick up latte from his family’s home and head out to enjoy the day with your two favorites <3

the blanket underneath you is covered in dirt once again as latte brings her toy back to it, having came from the bushes after soonyoung “accidentally threw it in there”. as he finally relaxes with his head in your lap, you scold him once again for dirtying your new blanket he gifted you for today. latte follows suit, laying on top of his stomach and licking under his chin. you smile, running a hand over his cropped blonde locks. his eyes fall shut, and you can see the relaxation come over his body. his forehead is still a little damp due to the sweat he worked up running with his dog, and you discreetly wipe your hand on the blanket beneath you.

you can’t tell if the two resting on you are sleeping or not, but soonyoung’s face looks completely at peace and latte hasn’t moved an inch since getting comfortable. eventually, seeing as they haven’t moved, you rest your head against the tree behind you and bask in the peacefulness of the environment around you. eventually, the duo wake up, and you finally share the treats you packed for the occasion. for you and soonyoung there’s a heart shaped cake with wine glasses to scoop it up with, and latte has her own miniature dog-safe one. there’s many photos taken and lots of icing splattered everywhere, but when you look back on the day and see the joy on your faces, along with the initial necklaces you traded as your gift, it feels chaotic but so you.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

perm taglist: @chenlezip @coquettejunnie

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whereianonymouslypostfics · 11 hours ago

Text

Costume Party

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~5.8k

Summary: You and Wanda go to a Halloween party

A/N: This one was mostly for my own benefit tbh...

Warnings: fluff, lusting over wifey, angst

You’ve never done something like this before.

Correction.

You’ve never done something like this before with Wanda.

You’d lost count of how many parties you’ve gone to since starting at the clinic you were hired at right after graduation. There had been Halloween, New Year’s, and Christmas parties over the years, but it was no surprise to anyone which was your favorite.

The parties were usually held at one of the doctor’s houses or a venue in town. Somehow, you’d avoided having to host at your place because although it was large enough, you definitely didn’t want anyone snooping around. You also knew it would be nightmare for security. One year you’d used Pietro’s house and that had gone pretty well, but you didn’t want to put him out again. Especially since he hadn’t been able to attend.

This was exactly what you and Wanda were dealing with today.

You’d wanted Wanda to come with you to this year’s Halloween party hosted by the lead doctor at work. You’d thought about it a lot and you were convinced that if she dressed up enough, she would be unrecognizable. When the idea first came to you, you did extensive research to pick the best option for Wanda. Rather you picked the top three ideas and then presented them to your wife with a hopeful expression. You’d immediately disregarded matching costumes because that was one cliché you weren’t into. Your options had been narrowed down as well, and since you loved a good top hat, you were going to put together a steampunk outfit somehow.

Wanda had met your options with reluctance. Not because she didn’t want to go with you, but as always, she was just worried that her disguise would fail. She didn’t want to be conceited enough to think that she’d be easily recognized, but she also didn’t want to risk the fallout associated with the alternative. You’d agreed, which is why all of the options for your wife included full, if not over the top make up.

“I’m not…can you explain this one again?”

You remember how Wanda had shot you an uncertain look as she gestured to the picture you’d printed out of the costume you really wanted your wife to choose.

It was from one of your favorite artist’s music videos and it involved pink hair, a suit, and makeup that made her look like a skeleton.

A very hot skeleton.

You’d told your wife some of this, and since she’d recognized the artist’s name, she’d finally decided to go with it.

“You’re sure you can find someone to do the make up?”

You’d certainly considered this since as much as you’d like to give it a shot, you didn’t have the necessary skill. You talked to Nat and she’d used her connections to find someone in school to be a makeup artist. They’d already confirmed that they could do any of the three choices, and they were willing to sign an NDA.

It was all just up to your wife now.

“Okay, let’s do that one then. It looks…cute.”

You’d laughed at this, and you smile at the memory as you stand in the living room waiting for your wife to finish up.

It was the night of the party and you were already dressed and ready to go. Granted your costume didn’t involve quite as much work as your wife’s, but you’re still a little antsy to get going. You glance at your pocket watch. The one that you bought to go with this costume. It looked old and fit the theme perfectly, and it somehow cost less than $50. You know you’ll probably rarely use it after tonight, but it’s still worth it.

You’re excited to finally introduce your wife, or at least her alter ego, to everyone that you work with. You know it’s causing Wanda a fair amount of anxiety, but you’re going to do your best to reduce this as much as possible. You’ve prepared answers to any questions and you’ve practiced with Wanda a dozen times since she agreed to go to this party.

You’re ready.

Wanda’s regretting her decision to say yes to you.

As much as she loves you, she’s not sure that this was the best idea. Her costume is coming together nicely, and she can’t say that she even recognizes herself in the mirror, but she’s still nervous.

She has blue contacts in and her make up is almost completely done. Her pink blonde hair looks so out of character that she’d laugh if she wasn’t afraid of scaring her make-up artist. They already appeared a little on edge when they started, but as they’d gotten into their work they luckily seemed to relax. Wanda was trying to make small talk, but her own nerves made that minimal.

She nearly jumps when she feels something brush against her legs and the hands in her lap. She glances down just enough to avoid getting poked in the eye, and she spots Rogue looking up at her curiously. She smiles at him and scratches his head before she realizes that he’s getting fur all over her. Luckily she’s not changed into her suit yet, but she’d hate to ruin the effect by showing up covered in fur.

Then again, if anyone will understand the plight, it will be a bunch of people in vet med.

“Hey bud. Are you getting bored? We’re almost done here.”

Not that she thinks Rogue will be any less bored soon since he’s not allowed to come tonight. The invite had kiddingly said that all pets were allowed, but there would be no pet sitters at the party. Not only did that sound like hell, but she is certain that Rogue would not do well. He’d probably stick to her side all night and she didn’t want that. She wanted to try and enjoy her time with you, and that would be much easier if she wasn’t worried about her dog while trying to maintain her cover.

Almost half an hour later, you glance up at the sound of the bedroom door opening. You smile when you see Rogue run out first, but you nearly drop your phone at the sight of your wife.

“Holy shit.”

You’re smiling widely as you watch Wanda descend the stairs in all her glory. You try to focus on each part of the costume before taking it all in at once.

She hadn’t wanted to dye her hair for this so she’d found a very convincing wig. It’s long enough that the pink falls past her shoulders and down her back.

The simple black suit with a white top looked tailored within an inch of its life, and you were obsessed with it. The dress shoes she wore were so new they shined and you don’t realize you’re staring until suddenly you catch a hint of your wife’s perfume. You look up and are immediately rendered dumb again at the precise, surprisingly flattering makeup.

“Wow.”

Wanda hadn’t failed to notice your attention, but she was a little preoccupied by your appearance to comment immediately.

She’d seen you collecting pieces of your costume over the past few weeks, but this was the first time she was seeing it come together. She doesn’t realize that she’s stopped short and Rogue’s stumbled into her as she takes in your unreasonably attractive look.

You’re wearing a dark red tailcoat that extends down past your calves that are adorned in black boots that fall just short of your knees. Wanda focuses on the leather of the coat and how it tapers into a material that matches the red of your tight pants. Her gaze drifts back up to the elaborate belt and the corset that nearly makes her bite her lip. The corset dips into a V to reveal a hint of the black collared shirt you’re wearing underneath.

“Well fuck.”

You’re smiling widely as your wife finally meets your gaze before it flits to your personal favorite portion of your ensemble. The hat.

You are wearing more jewelry than you usually do, and you’re not sure you can eat anything in the corset, but the look on your wife’s face is so worth it.

“You like?”

The unnecessary question is just met with a silent nod as Wanda reaches out for your gloved hands. She admires the gauntlets you’re wearing and the attention to detail that your costume required. She meets your gaze again with another muttered curse as she reaches up to touch the goggles that you have secured around your hat. You only considered wearing them briefly until you realized how hard it was to see through them.

You also had considered wearing a skirt or a dress, but this was a work party, and you didn’t want to overdo it.

“You look fantastic, detka. Shit.”

Wanda’s really regretting her decision to go to this party now because that means they need to leave soon, and she’d want nothing more than to stay here with you instead. She’d love to take off this costume piece by piece, but unfortunately, she’s going to have to wait.

You’re reaching out for Wanda, stopping just short of touching her face before your hand falls to one of her lapels. You play with Wanda’s fake pink locks with a grin of your own that tells your wife all she needs to know. That said, it never hurts to hear how much you appreciate her, out loud.

“Thanks, babe. I’m a bit at a loss for words. You look so much better than I ever imagined. You did a great job, Lane!”

The makeup artist that Wanda just realized was still here smiles politely before offering you a rushed thanks. You ask them to take a picture of you two before you let them flee to the car that brought them here to be escorted home. You gave them a hefty tip on top of their paltry fee, and since they signed the necessary documents to ensure their silence, you let them go with a thank you, but not another thought.

“I’m kind of wishing I didn’t say I’d go to this party after all.”

Wanda can’t help but laugh when you say this, and you have to resist the urge to lean in and kiss her. You don’t want to ruin her makeup. She sees you lean in slightly before falling back again and she offers you a sly grin.

“That’s going to have to wait. I’m also a little worried I can’t eat or drink anything at this party.

You’ll find out later that she can do both, she just has to be careful about it. You arrive a fashionably 30 minutes late only to be greeted by the lady of the house.

You smile widely and Wanda prepares herself for a night of niceties and subterfuge.

“Y/n! Wow you look great! Oh goodness you must be Linda. It’s so nice to meet you!”

That was the other thing about tonight.

You had to remember that you were married to ‘Linda’ tonight, and that the woman beside you was in life insurance. It sold itself, but it was honestly not something very interesting to talk about which was key.

You accept a hug from the taller doctor, and you send her a silent thank you when she just shakes Wanda’s hand before waving the two of you in. You can tell that Claire’s house is already full of your coworkers and their spouses, and you have to bite back a smile at the glee you feel at finally being able to introduce Wanda to them. You lead Wanda down the hall by the hand as you turn around to glance at the blonde with a knowing look.

The theme tonight had been very loosely thrown out by several people at work. Pop culture or media. Being the person that you were, you were very anxious about dressing up wrong, and Wanda had to remind you that it honestly didn’t matter. Pop culture or media could encapsulate practically anything.

Including a movie character.

You pause momentarily before you speak up loudly enough for Wanda to hear you. She gives the blonde beside you a once over before realizing that she never would have guessed her costume if you hadn’t just told her.

“You look so much like Uma Thurman right now that it’s a little scary.”

You note the yellow and black jumpsuit as you walk farther into the house where you catch normal music instead of something Halloween themed playing. That was one thing you didn’t enjoy about the holiday. The cheesy music.

Claire laughs as she follows you to the open living room that has nearly two dozen people either talking, dancing, or enjoying the food and drinks.

“It was Rick’s idea. He dressed up as Bill for some reason. I think he’s trying to tell me something, but I’m not quite sure what it is.”

You stifle a loud laugh as you catch sight of the blonde’s husband at the counter mixing drinks dressed the part of a villain.

You and Wanda make the rounds before either of you bother to grab a drink. You’d met multiple couples dressed up in a variety of costumes, and you think your favorite was a female couple dressed as Dracula and Freddy Krueger.

Wanda’s paranoid as always and gets some bottle of beer while you get whatever was in the punch bowl. You smile at your wife lovingly as you lean against the small alcove beside the kitchen you’ve managed to escape to. You take a sip and spend the next few moments admiring Wanda’s still perfect suit and makeup. You are dying to kiss her, but as you watch her carefully sip from her bottle, you know that you’ll ruin her lipstick. The black lines carefully drawn across her lips have the effect of looking like teeth, and if you think too much about it, you’d be a little scared of her.

The makeup doesn’t just stop at her face either. It extends down her neck, and any other exposed skin to make her look the part of a skeleton. The fingers circling the bottle are meticulously drawn on, and you’re surprised to see they’ve held up well to shaking half a dozen hands.

“What’s on your mind?”

You realize you’re caught when you meet Wanda’s gaze to see her shooting you a suspicious look. You don’t have time to respond before someone over her shoulder catches your attention.

“Dr. Y/l/n, oh my God, I barely recognized you! You look so good!”

You stand up a little straighter and offer a wide, genuine smile as you look over the younger woman’s outfit.

Meghan is one of the newer vet assistants at work, but she’s so quick to catch on that it feels as if she’s been there for years. She’s smart, a great multitasker, and you’re seriously going to miss her when she goes to vet school in a year.

The brunette is dressed as Medusa and her long locks are styled to look like the snakes on top of her head. Her green dress glitters and has the appearance of scales that really bring her costume together. You say something about her hair, and she just smiles before she turns her attention to Wanda.

“Thanks! I think that you win the coolest hair though. I was dying to wear pink but couldn’t make it work with this outfit.”

She holds out a hand to Wanda who doesn’t hesitate to take it as she slips into her unthreatening wife-of-a-doctor persona.

“I’m Meghan one of the vet assistants. It’s nice to meet you.”

Wanda nods in agreement which you can tell is genuine. Of all the assistants at work, you talked about Meghan the most because she was usually a huge help on days you were there. You have to stop yourself from reacting when Wanda speaks up.

“Linda. It’s nice to meet you too. Y/n has nothing but good things to say about you.”

You watch in amusement as Megan blushes before she hurries to change the subject. She’s still so shy, and she tends to underestimate her value. She reminds you of someone else you know.

“Oh, thank you. Now I have to ask since I know a bit about Dr. Y/l/n’s taste in music, but was the costume your idea or hers?”

You try not to flush at the question and the follow up questions that you’re sure your wife will ask. If not now, later. You usually mention your surgery days if they’re especially interesting, but you don’t think you’ve ever told Wanda about if they’re more relaxed. On these days, depending on who else is working, you’ll have music playing in the surgery suite, and sometimes your tastes are all over the place.

The last surgery day where you’d just had 5 dog neuters in a row, you’d been listening to early 2000’s pop.

When you see Wanda smile wickedly, you know what’s about to happen. You’re just grateful that she chose Meghan to confide in because you’re certain you would have died of embarrassment if she’d told anyone else this.

You watch Wanda lean in as if she’s telling a secret before she thoroughly throws you under the bus.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d be a little insulted that she spent nearly two weeks watching all of Lady Gaga’s and Brittney Spears's music videos to figure out my outfit.”

From Meghan’s expression, you can see that the brunette can’t tell if Wanda’s joking. She quickly clears this up though as she shrugs and offers the younger woman a smile.

“I’d already thought of an idea myself, but I didn’t want to spoil her fun. I’m just glad she didn’t ask me to dress up as a dog or something.”

Meghan laughs as you roll your eyes because seriously? You wouldn’t waste the opportunity to dress up your wife by putting her in a dog suit that drowned her. You suppose that putting her in that costume would have helped hide her identity, but you hadn’t wanted to do it like that. Selfishly, you wanted to show her off. You wanted people to see how beautiful and smart and kind your wife was.

Maybe not so kind right now, but that was fine. You could take what she dished out.

“That’s hilarious! I’m actually surprised she didn’t bring either of your dogs tonight. The costume she made Boone for Halloween was so cute!”

You had to admit that you’d done a pretty good job with his costume. You’d worked on Halloween and you hadn’t wanted to dress up, but you definitely hadn’t passed on the opportunity to put Boone in a cute outfit. You had dressed him up as a dogtor because it was practically expected. He had his own little white coat that you’d fitted out of one of your own. You gave him a fake stethoscope and bought him scrubs that wouldn’t be too hard to tailor to fit him. You’d honestly put in an entire weekend getting it together, but you didn’t regret it at all. Even when Boone peed in it because you’d overlooked one crucial detail.

“Did she tell you how long she spent on it? Hours! I thought she was just going to buy something to have him carry around, but I honestly should have known better.”

As your wife and Meghan laugh and talk about you like you’re not there, you glance around the room curiously. You’ve met most of the people here already and you’re honestly getting a little tired. Tonight, has been a lot, and despite having fun, you can tell that your social battery has drained a lot since walking through the front door. You find your host and smile at the sight of her talking to a Velma and Daphne. You take another sip of your drink, but you stop short when something fuzzy brushes against your leg. You look down and see a small tortie staring at you. Your smile widens as you kneel to scratch the purring cat.

“Wan—Um Lin, look a cat!”

Wanda looks down at you a little startled, but this quickly melts away when she sees the furry creature head butting your knees. She offers a small smile before she shakes her head with an adoring look that makes you glad that it’s too dark for anyone to see you blush from down here.

“Cute. Leave it to you to find a cat to hang out with.”

You start slightly when the cat jumps onto your knees, but you recover quickly and scoop her up into your arms. You scratch beneath her chin as you come face to face with your wife who is such a big faker sometimes that you can’t help but point it out.

“Yes, cats are the worst. I don’t know how you even have one when you can’t stand them.”

The teasing tone is the only reason that Wanda doesn’t start an argument right here in the middle of a party. She reaches out to scratch the adorable cat who’s getting fur all over you as she glances at you before sparing Meghan a look. She can’t have the brunette thinking that she actually hates cats. She’s married to a vet for Dog’s sake.

“You’re one to talk, detka. Fletcher knows I love her and that’s why I’m the favorite.”

Meghan snickers at this and you’re temporarily distracted by the pet name that you didn’t think Wanda would risk using here. You just sigh and smile dopily as the cat that has basically adopted you starts to play with Wanda’s bowtie. Her claws sink into it and she bites it furiously until it starts to give. You consider rescuing your wife, but she looks the most relaxed she’s been since walking in here, so you let it go on for her sake.

You hear someone call Meghan’s name, and you turn to see another couple of assistants with what look like shot glasses. You’re so grateful to be out of your twenties. Meghan gives them the universal sign of ‘one second’ before she turns back to you with a smile.

“Duty calls. It was good seeing you. Have fun with Misty.”

You realize belatedly that this is the cat that Wanda’s still snuggling with, and you grin before something occurs to you.

“Have fun with all that alcohol. Find me before you leave? I brought the many pins you let me borrow last week.”

Your costume, although cute, had been close to falling apart when Boone kept tripping over his stethoscope. Meghan had come to your rescue with nearly 10 bobby pins that you’d only realized you’d forgotten to return when you arrived home that night.

Meghan nods in agreement, and waves goodbye to Wanda before she’s off. You and Wanda are left alone, relatively speaking, with Misty the cat.

“She’s lovely.”

You figure that Wanda’s talking about Meghan, and not the cat, but you can’t be sure. You only nod in agreement before reaching out to free one of Misty’s claws from the crumbling bowtie. Wanda smiles at you and then her eyes widen in surprise when Misty turns toward you and starts to swat at your face. Or more specifically your hat.

“Y/n, she’s --.”

You don’t have time to flee before Misty reaches out her paw for the feather that’s tucked beneath the goggles on your hat. You curse and try not to freak out when suddenly you have a cat clinging to your hat and hanging in front of your face. Wanda reaches out to grab her and you’re carefully, but quickly extricating yourself from your hat when hear laughing.

You have an armful of cat in your hat by the time you realize your boss has come to your rescue. You see Claire walking toward you with Bill—Rick, who has a feather toy in hand. You try not to feel ridiculous as you drop to the floor and try to roll Misty onto the carpet.

“I should have warned you, Y/n. She’s obsessed with feathers.”

You laugh despite thinking ‘no shit’, but you breathe a sigh of relief when the tortie spots her favorite toy and leaves your hat on the ground with nothing but a lot of fur to show for it.

You stand up and brush out your hat as much as possible before you shoot the blonde a smile.

“To be fair, I shouldn’t have to be warned about that.”

You and Wanda take a moment to gather yourselves. After you help her untie her ruined bowtie, and leave it hanging from her neck in a way that’s somehow even hotter, she puts your hat back on your head.

“You’re so cute, Y/n.”

You want to defend yourself because you’re sure Wanda’s poking fun at you, but you don’t get a chance. Wanda carefully leans in and presses her lips to yours in a soft kiss. She figures that it was worth it when you pull away a little dazed and free of the black streaks that cover her own lips. She smiles at you again before reaching out to grab your gloved hands. She brushes the cat hair off of them and your corset before she sighs inaudibly.

“Are you having fun?”

Wanda asks this a bit later after you’ve finished your drinks and met a few more people. It’s nearing 10 o’clock and you’re honestly ready to leave. You figure you need to find the host before you duck out, but you decide to take a couple of minutes to hold your wife close where you’re settled on one of the loveseats. You are surrounded by people, but you only pay attention to Wanda who’s pressed into your side and leaning her head against your shoulder.

You eventually nod before looking around for Claire. You don’t see her immediately, but you’re not too worried. She’s been an impeccable host as always, so you’re certain she’ll catch you right as you head for the door.

“I am, but I’m getting tired. We better get home before I don’t have the energy to take all of this off.”

Wanda opens her eyes when you say this and she spares your outfit a glance, as if she hasn’t been looking at it all night, and hums. She makes sure no one is within earshot before she offers you a smile.

“I wouldn’t worry about that, Y/n. I’d be happy to help you.”

You don’t doubt this, and you smirk before summoning the energy to sit up. You suddenly want to be home.

“That’s very thoughtful of you. I would of course, love to return the favor.”

Wanda laughs at you as you stand up and hold out a hand to help her to her feet. She grabs it and you tug her to her feet fast enough to make her yelp in surprise. She shoots you a glare when you laugh at her, and she makes a point of dropping your hand and walking away without looking back. You roll your eyes with a smile before you hurry after her obediently and meet her in the kitchen where Claire’s reappeared. She’s collecting dishes and stacking them in the sink for later when she spots the two of you.

“Hey, calling it a night?”

You smile before you nod and glance around the cluttered kitchen. There are glasses, cups, bottles, and plates everywhere. Wanda stands behind you, likely surveying the area with a similar intention.

“We were, but we wanted to see if we could help with anything before we headed out.”

It took a bit of convincing, but you’d helped throw out some of the bottles and get the dishes loaded into the dishwasher before you were being shooed out of the kitchen. You hugged the other doctor again before thanking her for hosting. You and Wanda are near the front door before you remember what you’d told Meghan. You mention that you’ll grab them from the car and bring them back in, and Claire simply nods before claiming that she’ll give them to her for you.

You keep chatting as you walk to your car with Wanda, and you vaguely register the presence of other cars as you duck into the passenger side and reach for the console.

“Here they are. Thank her for--.”

“Freeze! Don’t move!”

You jump in surprise and then nearly stumble back in terror as you turn and see someone pointing a gun at you. They’re standing by the street but they’re crossing the lawn in quick, purposeful steps. You stiffen and faintly register Wanda gripping your arm tightly as she pulls you back against her.

“Y/n.”

She realizes before you do that this person isn’t a threat. They’re dressed as a cop and they’re not even looking at you or her. Their focus is on Claire who’s already scowling at the new arrival. Wanda doesn’t know who this is, but that’s less important to her than addressing your obvious anxiety.

“Campbell what the hell are you doing here?”

The brunette with the fake gun leers before he closes the distance between them in a hug that Claire looks like she’d refuse if she could.

“Don’t be like that Sis. I’m here for the party.”

You’re just starting to breathe again as you watch the exchange play out with a dull sense of awareness that’s clouded by your anxiety. You try to shake your shock, but it’s hard and you’re still looking terrified when the duo turns back to you.

“You’re about three hours late for that, but go on. Rick’s inside.”

Campbell is about to head inside, but he spares you and Wanda a look first. You’re not sure what he planned on saying, but the look on your face must be enough to clue him in. Wanda bites back a curse and you flinch at the question and the unwanted attention.

“Shit, you okay?”

Claire turns to you and you force yourself to speak before she gets a chance. You’re not even sure if you’d decided what to say before the words are falling out of your mouth.

“Fine. You startled me, is all.”

You see the exact moment that Claire gets it, and you have to stop yourself from recoiling in shame. It would have been impossible to get off work for so long without disclosing to your boss what happened to you. At least the extent of your injuries. When you’d been kidnapped from work and then hurt by Rumlow, well you’d taken months off of work. You’d been in the hospital for a while, and even though you can’t be sure because of all the drugs you were on, you think that Claire visited you.

You’d told her later that you’d been shot, and despite returning to work without any complications, the incident stuck with you. It was impossible to ignore the effect of the traumatic experience.

Even months later, the idea of someone pointing a gun at you nearly threw you into a panic attack.

You feel Wanda press herself against your back as an arm circles your waist, but you can’t relax. Not yet.

“Campbell go inside. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Her brother looks like he wants to argue but instead he just shrugs and heads out. He says something to you that you completely miss along with Wanda smiling politely in response, but you can’t bring yourself to care right now. You’re in survival mode and you immediately work out how you can get out of here as quickly as possible. You glance up at Claire before your gaze darts to the front door where you see Campbell disappearing. Someone’s standing in the doorway though and you nearly curse when you see Meghan looking confused.

You nearly shove the bobby pins that you miraculously held onto into the blonde’s hand with a pained smile.

“Here you go. Thank you again for tonight.”

Wanda’s reaching into your pocket for the car keys, but you barely notice as you watch a range of emotions play out on your boss’s face. Concern, confusion, and then understanding.

“Are you going to be alright?”

You manage to make your smile appear a little more genuine before you nod and manage a quick one-armed hug before ducking into your car.

“I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

You wait until Wanda says her goodbyes and gets into the driver’s seat before you take a deep breath. You watch in the rearview mirror as Claire hesitates for a moment before turning around and heading back into the house. If you had to guess Campbell’s going to get an earful, but you can’t think about that right now. You watch both her and Meghan disappear into the house before you realize that Wanda’s holding your hand. She’s started the car, but she’s turned toward you with a concerned look. She reaches out for you, but she stops short when you flinch.

“Y/n, I’m sorry he scared you. I’m not sorry that Claire’s going to chew him out for it, but he didn’t know. He’s not a threat to either of us, okay?”

You just nod a couple of times as you try to process what she’s said. You take a deep breath before removing your hat and holding it in your lap. You feel like you can’t breathe deeply enough in this outfit, and you really want to get home so you can take it off. Wanda seems to realize your dilemma as you start to take slow deep breaths. She buckles up and starts off down the street toward home.

“Let me get you home, so I can take care of you.”

You crack a smile at this and you can’t help but sneak another look at your wife’s suit. Damn you hope she wears it again after this. You fiddle with your hat for a moment before you clear your throat.

“I seem to remember you promised to help me take all of this off. Is that still on the table?”

Wanda rolls her eyes at the question despite the fact that she’s glad to hear you ask. She doesn’t think that what you’d originally intended is still on the table, but she’ll just have to see what happens. Usually anything that triggers your anxiety like this leads to overwhelming exhaustion shortly after.

Either way, she’s happy to do whatever you need to feel better. She doesn’t want tonight to be tainted by this incident. She’s glad she came out with you, and she’s even happier that you seemed to have fun. She would have to do some serious damage control, but hopefully dressing down, cuddling, and spending time with your fur babies will be enough.

“We’ll see, detka.”

Masterlist

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda x reader #silver springs drabble #silver springs #mob au

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glowettee · 1 day ago

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the secret to taking notes that make you want to study ✧˖°

hey lovelies! mindy heree <3

for this post i'm superrr excited to share a guide on taking notes that make you want to study ✧˖° trust me, i know how overwhelming it can get when it feels like you're stuck in the middle of endless textbooks and dry lecture slides (honestly, we all have those days). so, let's transform your note taking into something delightful, empowering, and totally reflective of your unique self.

✧ finding your vibe first things first, bestie: the key here is to make your notes feel personal and inspiring. rather than sticking to a rigid system, i suggest mixing a little structure with a whole lot of creativity. here are some steps to help you set up your perfect note taking vibe:

choose your medium: even if it’s a cute pastel notebook, sticky notes, or a digital app with fun themes, pick something that sparks joy and invites you to open it up. i personally love notion + remnote + coda

establish sections: break your notes into clear sections. introduction, main points, and summary. this not only boosts organization but also gives you a gratifying sense of progress every time you finish a page.

add your signature touch: doodles, small illustrations, or even a decorative border can make a note feel less like a chore and more like a mini art project. i love using aesthetic symbols for my digital notes <3

✧ creating a study ritual i believe that great notes come from a relaxed and focused mind. try integrating these rituals into your study sessions to set a positive tone, this is really important if you want to make note-taking fun:

begin with a short breathing exercise or a moment of gratitude (think of it as your pre-study pep talk).

play some light instrumental music or your favorite lo-fi beats, or playlist. something to keep your mind in a creative zone without distractions. (i have a great playlist i made that i use for tackling assignments here: 𝒸𝒽𝑒𝒸𝓀, 𝒸𝒽𝑒𝒸𝓀, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝒽𝑒𝒸𝓀! <3)

grab your favorite beverage (i’m a fan of herbal tea or a cute iced coffee) and make sure you're comfortable. a little self-care goes a long way!

✧ structuring your notes for clarity a well-organized layout makes reviewing notes less daunting and more interactive. and obviously so much more fun, consider using this format for a balanced + demureee approach:

start with a title and date: it grounds your notes and gives you a quick reference.

write a brief summary of the topic: in your own words, capture the essence of what you’re about to learn. just summarize it as best as possible

list key points: use bullet points, numbered lists, or even headers for different subtopics. tip: use cute symbols for bullet points

highlight examples: it can be a quote, a definition, or an application concept, mark these with a star or a cute icon.

close with a reflection: jot down any questions, what you found most interesting, or even a mini action item related to the topic. this is your space for self-talk and reflection.

✧ turning notes into interactive canvases (cause we need it) notes aren’t meant to be static pages floating in an endless binder. make them interactive to truly boost your study sessions:

include thought-provoking questions: ask yourself things like “what would elle woods do?” (lol, we love her <3) or “how does this connect with real life?” to spark critical thinking.

add mini quizzes: at the end of each section, write one or two questions that challenge you to recall key points.

leave room for updates: as you learn more, come back and add extra notes, doodles, or even inspirational stickers (yes, just like in a scrapbook!).

✧ personal tips from mindy because i want you to shine in every note you take, here are my totally secret, fun tips to elevate your note routine:

secret tip #1: color with purpose choose a color palette that not only looks cute but also maps out different themes in your subject. use one color for definitions, another for examples, and maybe a sparkly tone for key takeaways. over time, these colors will trigger your memory (i promise, it really works!).

secret tip #2: integrate affirmations studying can be stressful sometimes, so why not lace your notes with a few tender affirmations? write a quick pep talk (like “i got this, bestie” or “every detail counts”) in a corner. it might seem small, but these little lines can boost your confidence when you need it most. and it's just so freaking cute <3 affirmations from you to you, is like a love letter to yourself, so just try it

secret tip #3: try mind mapping if you’re more of a visual learner, create mind maps instead of linear notes. start with the main topic in the center and branch out with related ideas and details. this not only makes your notes dynamic but also helps you see connections between concepts (ever notice how some subjects just click with a visual flow?).

secret tip #4: use digital tools creatively if you’re leaning towards digital note taking, like me, experiment with apps that support drawing, voice notes, and even embedded links. add images that resonate with the topic or short videos for a quick concept refresher. making your digital notebook interactive can really keep boredom at bay.

secret tip #5: schedule weekly note reviews set aside a bit of time every week to revisit your notes. treat it as a mini self-study session where you update, add reflections, or even reorganize sections for clarity. this habit not only reinforces your learning but also lets you see your own progress over time, like looking back on how far you’ve come.

✧ action items for the week (it's homework timeee) to wrap things up, here are a few steps to try:

pick one class or topic this week and redo your notes using one or two of these tips (maybe add a mind map or a quick quiz).

experiment with color coding: choose colors that resonate with you and assign them to key points or sections.

schedule a 10-minute review session at the end of the week to refresh and reflect on your notes.

share your progress with a friend or even a study group to celebrate little victories. accountability can boost your motivation!

note: note taking is a creative process that should feel as refreshing and inspiring as a new day. keep experimenting until you find what truly works for you. i hope these tips help you get excited about every page you write on.

xoxo, mindy

I made this amazzinggg playlist (as mentioned earlier in the post) and its specifically made to help you complete homework + assignments. i curated it to make sure its soft music to help you focus <3 love from mindyyy 🩷

don't forget, if you need personal advice, submit it here and i'll answer it as a detailed tumblr blog post <3: https://bit.ly/glowetteehotline

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listofwhyyouloveher · 2 days ago

Note

Can you do an outsiders y/n where the gang's (separate) partner has face piercing e.g lip or eyebrow

Summary: The Gang with Reader with a face piercing. Warnings: none Author's Note: piercing my helix by myself at home with conservative parents, do you think they'd notice or do i have till next summer. PONYBOY CURTIS thinks your septum is sick, he loves how it ties your whole look together and how you always pick one that represents you perfectly. He'll pick out his favorite jewelry for you to wear on specific days and he likes picking out an outfit to match. He would probably not get a piercing like you, he's a little afraid of needles and doesn't think that they would look as cool as they look on you as him. JOHNNY CADE was genuinely intimidated by people with face piercings, he thinks that it's pretty brave to stick a needle through a part of your face. He loves your eyebrow piercing, he thinks its super cute and it makes your eyes stand out more, which he thinks are beautiful. He always likes to pick up little jewelry that you might like when it reminds him of you. For your birthday he got you (along with other thoughtful gifts) a pretty little floral eyebrow piercing bar with your favorite flower on it. SODAPOP CURTIS has always wanted a piercing but was turned down by Darry. Plus he's a little hesitant to piercing himself because he too is scared of needles and 'messing up his perfect face'. He kind of lives through you and admires your jewelry. He likes to pick out jewelry that would match your outfit and his outfit for you to wear. STEVE RANDLE thinks your lip piercing is so sexy and he tells you that all the time. He likes getting you jewelry that you can experiment with, something that's unusual and not some basic lip ring. You can tell he put effort into each detail because he explains his thought process behind it all. He thinks your piercings are part of your personality and would be really sad if your took them out without a distinct reason. TWO BIT MATHEWS has always wanted to be heavily pierced, (secretly, his mom would freak), but he has such a bad fear of needles. If you are actively piercing your face, he will be there, but he wont watch. He's suprised at how little you said it hurt, but that wont stop him from being super afraid of needles still. He likes seeing what you choose as your jewelry, all he does is find you a bunch that you might like. DARRY CURTIS is, suprise suprise, more conservative. He isn't exactly turned off by the piercing, but it certainly is new to him. He thinks the piercing is cute and suits you, so much so that he starts to realise that he can't imagine you without it. He doesn't involve himself much in your personal attire, but if you ask him to buy a piece of jewelry for you, he most likely will. DALLAS WINSTON thinks the piercing makes you look hot. He doesn't try to show it and he's constantly (gently) touching it, just to see how it works. He's starting to convince himself that he needs a piercing or something but he's scared it wont look as good on him as it does on you. He likes it when you wear jewelry that matches his dog tag or rings he thinks its a subtle act of affection, which he is best at.

#shroomsroom #clara'sroom #the outsiders x reader #dally winston x reader #dallas winston x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #steve randle x reader #johnny cade x reader #darrel curtis x reader #darry curtis x reader #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #pony curtis x reader #two bit matthews x reader #two bit x reader #two bit matthews x reader angst #two bit mathews x reader #soda curtis x reader #sodapop x reader

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james-francos-gf · 3 days ago

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WHEN THE MUSIC FADES !

pairing: noel gallagher x fem! reader

summary: when noel gallagher runs into his ex-fiance at a party and can't help but try and win her back.

warnings: angst, cheating, MANIPULATIVE noel (i'm a sucker for him), swearing, and probably more.

part two will include smut

word count: 3.8k

masterlist

It had been nearly two months since the 1996 BRIT Awards. You attended as a plus-one with your long-term boyfriend and fiancé, Noel Gallagher. However, the excitement of the wins quickly faded when you caught Noel kissing another woman at an after-party. The tabloids sensationalized the story after they saw you flee, your face stained with tears, and your ring missing from your finger.

The past two months had been filled with depression, sorrow, betrayal, and uncertainty. Many questions plagued your heartbroken mind, but one was asked far more than the others; What had you done to make Noel not want you anymore? Although your relationship was far from perfect, like most couples, you had thought that he was at least dedicated and faithful to you, especially after his proposal. It was almost unbelievable when you saw his lips on another woman’s. You were sure your heart would never heal and you would never get over Noel Gallagher.

After dramatically throwing your engagement ring in Noel’s face, you’d packed your stuff and moved in with your best friend. She’d watched you mope and not leave your bed for days and she was getting tired of seeing you miserable, she couldn’t and wouldn’t allow you to continue for another day. “You’re going to that party with me tonight, whether you like it or not,” Cami, your best friend, sternly spoke as you were sat on the couch, binge-watching Star Wars, something you and Noel would often do together.

“I’m not going,” you replied, barely acknowledging her presence as you tried your hardest to keep your attention on the movie. The thought of going out, seeing people, and the chance of seeing Noel filled your head with immense amounts of anxiety. Choosing to seclude yourself and staying far away from anywhere that had your ex-boyfriend’s name written all over it was the safest choice to protect yourself from potential further heartbreak.

Cami wasn’t having it, she grabbed the remote to the TV and turned it off, forcing you to put your attention on her. “What the fuck, Cami?” irritation laced your voice as you got up from the couch to take the remote from her hands. “You can go back to laying on the couch all day and watching shitty movies after the party,” Cami said, holding the remote over her head. “Why do I have to go to this party, Cami? You know you’ll have fun without me anyway,” you asked, your patience thinning. “Y/N, it’s been two months and you’ve left our flat five times. I cannot bear to watch you sit on the fucking couch any longer. You have to get absolutely pissed with me, just this once, please? It’ll help you forget about that cheating bastard, I swear.” Cami pleaded her case, arm still above her head, not allowing you to get back to your marathon.

Her words made you stop and think. You couldn’t help but admit that Cami had a good point. You had been at home practically every day since the breakup, feeling sorry for yourself. Noel was out going to parties, and award shows, and getting ready to perform the biggest gigs in his career thus far. You were allowed to have fun and try and get over him. You were allowed to be free from the thoughts of him. “Fine, just tonight, okay?” you sigh defeatedly. Cami dropped the remote to the coffee table, excitedly grabbed your arm, and pulled you to her room as you rolled your eyes.

Cami insisted upon helping you get ready, saying you had to look sexy, and not like you’d been crying over a “cheating bastard,” her coined term to describe Noel. She forced you to shower, blew out your hair, did your makeup, and picked out her favorite dress of yours, which also happened to be Noel’s as well. It was a sexy dark red, almost burgundy, short, slip-dress with a very deep slit in the leg. You hated to admit it, but you felt really good, the best you had since the breakup. You stood in front of Cami’s full-length mirror as she did the last finishing touches on your hair and handed you a pair of heels to go with your dress.

“Damn, Y/N, if I were Noel and saw you right now, I’d be on my hands and knees, begging for a second chance,” Cami smiled at you as she saw you examining yourself in the mirror. You laughed the first genuine laugh that had come from you in a while. Maybe going with Cami wouldn’t be so terrible after all.

You and Cami arrived outside the rather extravagant-looking house, the owner being a friend of Cami’s that you didn’t know all too well. Seeing the house, the people inside, and outside of it filled you with dread. You started your recurring thought spiral and quickly clung to Cami before the driver parked outside to drop you off. “Y/N, it’s going to be okay, I’ll be by your side the whole night,” Cami reassured and linked your elbows together as she started heading out of the car. You took a deep breath before following her out and walking with her inside the party.

Cami dragged you through the crowd of people, the smell of alcohol and cigarettes was heavy in the air and the marble flooring vibrated as music blasted throughout the house, and directed you to the drink table. She started pouring you both some kind of mixed drink. The taste was quite strong and bitter, but you drank it nevertheless. Linking your elbows together again, she dragged you to a free spot on a couch and you both sat, squished together with the other girls on the couch.

As you both sat laughing and drinking on the couch, you heard a very familiar Mancunian voice yell your name. “Oi! Y/N!” You turned your head at the voice and your eyes were met with the younger brother of your ex-boyfriend, Liam Gallagher. He waved his hand over, gesturing you to come over to him.

You hesitated, looking over at Cami, “Go ahead, Y/N, I’ll wait for you over here,” Cami yelled over the loud music. You took your drink with you and walked over to Liam, your heart racing as you made your way through the drunken people.

You tucked your hair behind your ear as you approached Liam. His hair was getting longer, his big blue eyes were covered by dark sunglasses, and his clothes were baggy. He stood smoking a cigarette with a beer in his hands. “Hey, Liam,” You said, forcing a kind smile on your face. As much as you were heartbroken by Noel, Liam hadn’t done anything wrong and you two had managed to get on pretty well.

At your words, Liam tilted his sunglasses a bit, getting a good look at you, “Yer looking fit as fuck, hope ya ain’t trynna impress Noel,” he said in his usual casual and arrogant tone. His compliment went right over your head as you heard him say Noel’s name. Was Noel here at this party as well? You hoped not, but you couldn’t keep your face from showing how uncomfortable you were.

Liam immediately clocked your expression and let out a mocking laugh, “Yer telling me ya didn’t know Rkid was gonna be here? Thought ya would’ve known,” You felt your heart drop to your stomach and anxiety flooded your body.

He was here. Noel was here and you knew you were bound to see him. You quickly sipped at your drink, hoping the alcohol would drown out your nerves. “Didn’t know he was here, Cami dragged me here,” you said, feigning casual unconcern, but you knew Liam could see right through you, just like Noel could.

He pretended to not know you were currently dying on the inside and continued casual banter. He threw an arm over your shoulder, pulling you into a relaxed hug, “Don’t be a stranger, Y/N,” and with those parting words, you made your way back to Cami.

Looking back to the sofa that you left Cami on, you noticed she was nowhere to be found. Panicked, you pushed your way to the kitchen, hoping she was just pouring herself another drink. Opening the door to the lavish kitchen, you looked to the island to see if Cami was there, however, your eyes locked with a very familiar pair of icy blue eyes, the same eyes you fell in love with all those years ago, the same eyes that could read your soul, the same eyes that betrayed you months ago. The music and voices of the party faded, the only thing that you could hear was your racing heartbeat and your neverending thoughts. You froze unsure of what to do. He definitely saw you too. Do you turn around and escape while you can or ignore him and get yourself another drink? You chose the first option. You turned around and headed towards the door, but you heard him clear his throat and speak, “Y/N?”

You stopped dead in your tracks and weighed your options, yet again. You could ignore him and run away or allow yourself to face him and maybe get some closure. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, preparing yourself to face him again. You tried your best to seem nonchalant and replied with a steady, “Noel,” his name sounding foreign in your mouth. You had tried your best to refrain from using his name after your breakup. The less you said it, the less you’d think about him was your mindset, which very clearly did not work as everything around you reminded you of him. You walked towards the island where Noel stood across from you. You poured yourself a refill of your glass, knowing you’d need more alcohol to even try speaking to him any further.

Noel looked at you, his eyes almost unreadable. He always was good at keeping his emotions locked away, keeping his thoughts and feelings under lock and key in his running mind. You awkwardly sipped at your drink under his heavy gaze, avoiding eye contact with him at all costs. You knew the second you got lost in his eyes, every emotion you’ve ever felt for him would come flooding back, and you wouldn’t allow yourself to get trapped by him again.

He cleared his throat again, making you turn your attention from your drink to him, still not allowing yourself to meet his piercing gaze. “You’re looking well,” he says quietly but sincerely, taking a slow sip of his drink.

You inhaled, your breath shaky as you managed to let your eyes meet his. You licked your lips nervously before a soft, “You do, too,” came from your mouth.

He smiled a little in response, and for a moment, it was as if the world around you had completely disappeared. However, the kitchen door swung open bringing you and him both back to reality. Suddenly your surroundings were flooded with the sound of people and music, ruining your awkward interaction. Noel eyed the person who had entered the kitchen, before taking a swig of his drink and looked at you thoughtfully for a moment in silence. “Can we talk somewhere? Alone?” His words dragged you back into him, your heartbeat somehow picking up speed before you stuttered out a quiet yes.

Anxiously, you followed Noel out of the kitchen, trying your hardest to stay close to him through the large crowd of partygoers. Noel occasionally looked over his shoulder, ensuring you were still trailing behind him as he led you down a hallway and up a flight of stairs. The music can barely be heard at this point, and it’s actually quite quiet, almost deafeningly so. He finally stops at an open bedroom and motions for you to go inside. You apprehensively step through the bedroom door before Noel shuts and locks it behind him. You awkwardly stood in front of the bed in the rather large room, your back facing him. This is the first time you’d both been completely alone with one another for a while. He lets his gaze wander down your back and then moves over to sit on the bed.

Still standing and now facing him, you whisper, “What did you want to talk about?” Your nervousness was very evidently still there due to the unexpected sighting of your ex-fiance.

Noel hesitates for a moment, looking down at the floor before looking back up at you. “I… I’ve been thinking about you. A lot,” he mutters quietly, his voice raspy. He pats the bed beside him, “Come here.”

You pause, taking in his words before sitting on the bed beside him. You tried to restrain yourself from admitting to him how you’d thought about him, how he flooded your head every second of every day. You stared at your lap as you picked at your fingers, and a very shaky, “Okay,” slipped from your lips.

He swallows hard as he looks at you. You both are the closest you’ve been to each other since the night you argued. He looks you up and down for a moment, taking in every inch of you. “You haven’t been sleeping much, have you?”

You become motionless and look at him, “Yes, I have,” a defensive tone to your voice. He shakes his head, “No, you really haven’t, I can tell,” He reaches one hand up to brush a thumb over one of your dark circles poking through from under your concealer.

“You look exhausted.” You pull your face away from his hand, not giving into his attempts at pulling you deeper and deeper back under his spell. “Noel, you can’t just act like nothing happened between us… You cheated on me,” You whispered, facing away from him and his touch.

He scoots impossibly closer to you and looks at you with a pained expression. “I know, and I’ve been beating myself up about it since it happened,” he says quietly, running his fingers through his hair. “I’ve never wanted to make you feel the way I know I made you feel that night… I wish I could just take it all back, Y/N.”

“But you did. You fucking kissed her Noel. You’re the one who threw this all away, not me.” you feel all the emotions that you’ve kept inside this whole night, slowly start to flood out into your words. “Y’know, I can’t stop asking myself why you did it?” your voice faltered, feeling your eyes sting with developing tears that you pushed down.

Noel can see the tears in your eyes, and it absolutely guts him. He swallows the lump in his throat before speaking quietly. “We’d fought that night, and I just kind of lost my head. I got way too drunk, and I did something stupid, and I know there’s no excuse. I was a complete fool because I’m the biggest idiot in the world to have ever hurt the one I love like that… I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’d do anything to take it back.”

You gave up trying to resist and let the tears fall down your face. “We were supposed to get married, Noel.”

His heart nearly shatters at your words. He looks almost defeated, “I know,” is all he whispers as he reaches for you, trying to take you into his arms. Unlike before, you let yourself melt into his grasp, allowing yourself to be dragged back into all that is Noel Gallagher. He brings his arms around you, hugging you and resting his chin on top of your head. He takes one of your hands in his own and gently pulls you closer, wanting to be as close to you as possible. “Please look at me,” he mutters quietly, his other hand coming to your chin, gently lifting your face to look at him.

You looked up at his face through tears, trying your hardest to steady your breathing. Being so close to him and being held by him was overwhelming for you. You were almost suffocating around him. His scent, his voice, his eyes, his crooked nose, his warmth–everything that made Noel Gallagher himself. It was hard for you to keep it together. Every memory of the years the two of you had spent together coursed to the forefront of your mind the second your eyes met his. As much as you wanted to give in, take him back, and be with him again, no amount of words and affection could heal the pain you’d felt the night you left.

He looks at your tear-stained face and gently wipes them away with the pad of his thumb, his heart breaking as he takes in your sorrow. He moves even closer, his knees touching yours as he reaches up with both hands to tenderly hold your face. His eyes are full of a mix of longing and guilt, and he whispers, “I can’t stand seeing you cry… especially when I’m the one who hurt you. I’d do anything to take it all back. I’d give anything to go back and change that night, I swear, Y/N.”

Your eyes glistened with tears while listening to his heartfelt words. When hearing him express all of his guilt and his wrongdoings, you couldn’t help but flash back to yourself the weeks following the breakup. The hate you felt for yourself, the self-isolation, the self-blaming, and the tears you cried. You couldn’t resist asking yourself what was so wrong with you that made him not want you anymore. What was so horrible about yourself that he threw away your engagement? In your twisted mind, it was never Noel’s fault that you two had broken up. Every reason that you had come up with to explain his cheating had nothing to do with him and everything to do with you and your inadequacies. You weren’t pretty enough, you were too boring, you couldn’t keep up with him, you gained too much weight, and you didn’t satisfy him anymore, so he did what every man does and found it elsewhere.

His words managed to provide you with a small amount of comfort, his words being entirely about his actions and nothing to do with you, but would you ever get the answer to the questions that tormented your mind? Would you ever be able to trust him again?

“I don’t know if I can just forget about it, I don’t know if I can ever trust you again, Noel. I thought we were forever; you promised that to me when you proposed, and you still did the opposite…” You whispered, your gaze falling to your lap, unsure if you could brace looking into his eyes a moment longer.

He sighs heavily, your vulnerability and honesty causing his heart to ache even more. He gently lifts your chin, so you're looking at him once again, and he locks eyes with you. “I know I broke that promise, and I feel like complete shite. And I know you’re probably tired of me apologizin’, but just please, I’m so sorry, Y/N, and I’d do anything to make it up to you. I love you with everything I have.” Noel’s eyes cloud over with a mix of sorrow and longing as he reaches for your hand. “I can’t imagine my days without the sound of your laughter or the touch of your hand. I know I hurt you—I hurt us—and every day, I carry that weight. But please believe me when I say I’m trying to be a better man. I’m haunted by the thought that maybe, just maybe, I lost you forever because I couldn’t be the person you needed. Don’t you think there’s a way we can fix this? I need you, Y/N. Not just for me, but for what we once had.”

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head, willing yourself to stay angry. Stay angry. Stay angry. But it’s hard when he looks at you like that—when his voice drops into something soft and pleading when he says your name like it still belongs to him.

“Noel,” you said, steadier now. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to say all the right things after the fact and expect me to forget what you did.”

“I don’t expect you to forget,” he murmurs. “I just—I need you to know I fucked up. I was a coward. And I hate myself for it.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest, a flimsy attempt to protect yourself from the way his words threatened to break you down. “You should.”

“I do.” He steps closer, tentative. “Every fucking day.”

Your throat tightens. This is what you were afraid of—Noel at his most dangerous, when he turns his regret into something tangible that seeps into the cracks of your resolve. And God, it would be so much easier if he were cruel about it if he just shrugged and told you to get over it. But he’s standing here, telling you he’s sorry, telling you he’s been lost without you, and it’s getting harder to hold on to the part of yourself that still wants to hate him.

“You don’t get to miss me,” you said, your voice thin but sharp. “You don’t get to miss me when you threw me away.”

“I never threw you away,” he breathes. “I was an idiot, and I lost you. But I never stopped—” He swallows hard, dragging a hand through his hair. “I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”

You turned your head, willing the sting in your eyes to disappear. “Noel—”

“Please.” He’s in front of you now, close enough that you can feel the warmth of him. His fingers brush your wrist—hesitant, like he’s waiting for you to pull away. But when you don’t, when you just stand there, his grip tightens slightly. Not forceful, just certain. He exhales slowly like he knows he has you now. “Tell me you don’t still think about me. Tell me you don’t still feel it.”

Your breath shudders out of you, and you hate him for knowing. Because of course you still feel it. You feel it now, in the way your skin burns where he touches you, in the way your body betrays you by leaning in when you swore you’d never let him close again.

You should walk away. You should tell him it’s too late. But instead, you let his fingers slip between yours, let yourself get pulled back into the gravity of him.

“This isn’t fair,” you whisper, a final, desperate attempt to hold onto your anger. But even as you say it, your fingers betray you, tightening instead of letting go.

And when his lips ghost over yours, you don’t stop him.

#noel gallagher x reader #noel gallagher #britpop #oasis #noel gallagher oasis #noel gallagher x you #noel gallagher x f! reader #britpop fanfic #oasis fanfiction #oasis fanfic #noel gallagher fanfiction #oneshot #oasis oneshot #noel gallagher oneshot #90s #fanfiction #fanfic

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evolmyheart · 2 days ago

Note

A sigh left her lips, Amaryllis was relieved he wasn’t going to doll her up that much for a simple boxing match. She would much rather something a little more comfortable. Especially while watching him fight, the chances of her jumping around while cheering for him were more than likely. A dress simply would not be appropriate for her to act the way she knew she was going to.

“Another auction? Has something caught your eye?” she sat up a little straighter, “Did you find another aethercore?” Merely the thought of it piqued her interest, her eagerness present in her eyes. “And do you need an excuse for me to wear it? I don’t necessarily have to go anywhere in it. Could just…wear it here. Unless the excuse isn’t just from me to wear it, but for you to see everyone else seeing me wear it?” Her hand reached up, a single finger pressed against his lips with a shake of her head. “Do not even think about it. That is the one thing you are not getting me to wear a flashy dress to.”

Removing her finger from his lips to her cheek, she tapped it in thought. Which vault? She had no clue. He had too many to choose from. “As for your vaults. How about we go to whichever one is in your favorite location?” That seemed reasonable, and she’d get to learn a little bit more about him on the side. A win-win if you asked her.

She blinked at, he had to have known she was joking. No way he didn’t know. She wasn’t going to have to actually pick up knitting was she? Now she almost felt obligated to. Though the thought of him wearing something she made just for him, did have some appeal to it. Maybe she would try. The fact that he would probably wear it no matter how it turned out also had some appeal to it. The idea of it, having a smile pull at her lips, in her own thoughts. ”Wait, who’s in charge? Aren’t you in charge?“

She doesn't say much. She's just staring at him. Eyes slightly narrowed. Like she's got something on her mind.

((hello hope you don't mind me throwing my MC at you.))

Sylus leaned back against the edge of his desk, arms crossed casually over his chest as his eyes locked onto hers. The smirk tugging at his lips was as much a part of him as his razor-sharp wit, and it only deepened under the weight of her gaze. He tilted his head slightly, one eyebrow arching in amused curiosity.

“Well,” he began, his voice carrying that familiar blend of charm and mischief, “if you’re trying to drill a hole between my eyes with that look, I’d say you’re getting close, sweetie. Though I’ll admit, it’s a lot less painful than some of the other ways people have tried to hurt me.”

He let the words linger for a moment, watching her expression carefully, like a cat watching a particularly intriguing mouse. Sylus wasn’t one to pry, not outright. “You’ve got that ‘something on your mind but not sure if you want to say it’ look,” he continued, his tone softening just enough to ease any tension. “Care to share? Or are you just going to keep me guessing?”

Sylus uncrossed his arms, holding up a hand as if to stop her from feeling pressured. “No obligations, of course. If you’d rather keep it to yourself, I won’t push. But…” His smirk returned, this time softer, more curious than sharp. “You’ve got my full attention, kitten.”

#{crimson mist: sylus}#sylus hds 7213

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cowboyballads · 5 months ago

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kind of tired of the unending argument of the morality of demigods. l like all their faults and heinous deeds and i like the shreds of humanity and kindness that shines through every now and then.

#who cares if mohg had a blood cult like seriously. thats fucking awesome #rykard and his lil blasphemous era. you go girl torture to your heart's content.#it just feels silly. the conversation surrounding it is silly.#idk why it always has too be the extremes of ohhh this evil bad man is the equivalent of every evil people you know so you should HATE them #and the other end being oh this sweet baby angel did nothing wrong in fact this god is a victim so you should feel sorry or die #just pick and choose your favorites and GET OUT #idk this applies to ranni. shes not the angel baby whose hands are the cleanest of the bunch but shes also not a horrendously evil person #that straight gamermen make her out to be #miquella as much as i hate the guy also applies. idk its strange #idc about no moral compassor whatever but thats just me

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kurooh · 3 months ago

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I’MA MAKE U SCREAM ★ S. GOJO & S. GETO

⊹₊˚. a series of unrelenting, mysterious phone calls late at night leads to you being sandwiched between two hot ghostface slashers who’ve got you fucking for your life.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, ghostface! gojo & geto, threesome, knife play, landline phones, mentions of death, oral (f receiving), double penetration, anal/fingering, tongue piercings, pussy slapping, biting. 5.2K words whew (pls read anyway 🧎‍♀️)

xoxo, juno. happy halloween!! thank you to my dearest wolfy anon for beta reading <33 comment & rb if you enjoyed!!! 🎃

“hello?”

“why don’t you wanna talk with me?”

“who is this?” you roll your eyes, unimpressed by the cheery voice coming through the phone. “it’s like eleven at night, what do you want?”

“ya tell me your name, and i’ll tell ya mine,” that voice lilts into a teasing tone, words dripping with persuasive sweetness.

“nah, i’m heading to bed. nice talk.”

“aw, bedtime already? you’re not even gonna watch a movie before you sleep?” the question has your brows furrowing in aggravation, but you sigh, choosing to answer anyway.

“i didn’t have anything in mind,” the caller lets out a laugh, straight into your ear. “what, you’ve got a suggestion?”

“do you like scary movies?” and you can hear the smile in the caller’s voice; he’s amused, probably laughing with his friends over the prank call in the moments of muffled silence.

“i suppose so.”

“don’t you have a favorite? why not watch it?”

“well, i won’t be able to sleep,” you reply simply, twirling the phone cord between your fingers. “but the longer we talk, the more sleep i lose out on. so, have a good night!”

“wait!” the caller snaps, demanding as ever. the sudden outburst sends chills straight down your spine. “don’t hang up on me.”

“and why shouldn’t i?” the blatant defiance has the caller letting out a laugh that sounds rather menacing . . he clears his throat, seemingly returning to his more even tempered tone.

“we’re not done talking,” he says simply, sounding a little crackly through the phone. “so don’t hang up, you’ll—”

a rational person with an interest in talking would certainly call during the day, and only once or twice before quitting altogether to wait for a call back. an irrational person would have your house phones ringing off the hooks while you were in the shower, calling nonstop and then getting far too arrogant once you finally picked up. just as you slam the phone back down, it starts to ring again.

you decide to leave the room, figuring that the caller will tire himself out quickly, but he doesn’t. in the time that you left the phone to go to another room, there wasn’t a single beat of silence. furious, you race toward the phone, fingers sliding on the kitchen counter as you snatch it up.

“fuck you! listen to me, you’d better stop—”

“no, you listen to me,” the caller snarls, and the harshness of his voice has your heart kicking hard against your rib cage. something in your gut tells you that this isn’t just a talkative caller. “don’t fucking hang up on me again, got that?”

you recover some of your composure, goosebumps rising on your skin. the cool breeze blowing through a nearby window adds to the chilling feeling that’s washed over you in only a matter of seconds. “w-well, what do you want, then?”

“i wanna see your insides, dummy,” is the crazed response, and you can’t stop the way your face immediately twists in horror. a clicking sound is heard as the second phone in your house—the one upstairs—is picked up, and another person hops onto the call.

“now, now,” this new voice is smooth, immediately drawing your attention as you listen attentively through the phone. “that’s no way to talk, you’ll scare her silly.”

“what the fuck?” you ask aloud, although you hadn’t meant to. all you can think about is the fact that two weirdos have you almost . . cornered on the phone.

the crazy voice scoffs, ignoring your mumbling. “well, you heard her! trying to hang up and shit,” he clicks his tongue in disapproval before sighing. “anyway, where were we?”

you don’t even say anything, and the other voice exhales into the phone. “see, look at what you’ve gone and done now. our girl’s too scared to talk to us, isn’t she?”

“look, i-i’m just gonna go to bed. goodnight.”

“you’re not going anywhere, honey,” the calmer one of the two says, but this time his voice is much clearer, almost as if he’s standing beside you. you take a step backward, trying to shake off the weird feelings and relentless goosebumps spreading across your skin.

you might as well be wearing nothing.

the satin slip dress you were planning to sleep in is as thin as plastic wrap; you’ve backed up into someone’s strong chest and thanks to the thinness of your pajamas, you can feel each sharp ridge of muscle. the pecs are strong, firm to the touch, and the abs are hard enough to cut diamonds. fear races through your body, so overwhelming that your lips part to let out a scream—but the noise is muffled by a large palm that pulls you back, flush against the muscles. separated only by a few layers of clothing, you can feel the warmth of their body and the casual rise of their chest as they breathe. if you weren’t being silenced, this would be comforting, in a way.

“promise you won’t scream, baby?” that calm voice has a dangerous edge; you nod immediately, frantically, desperately — as you feel a few tears gather in your eyes. this . . does not look, feel, or sound good in any way imaginable. who even are these people? and why you? a seemingly normal thursday evening had gone entirely downhill, and you didn’t even know why.

“good girl,” the person hums, dropping their hand from the lower half of your face and instead replacing it with the sharp edge of a knife. “let’s head upstairs, shall we?” as you ascend the steps, the blade drops lower, until it hovers over the tender skin of your throat. you can’t even turn around and see who the person is, for fear of getting cut over the simple action.

“could i at least turn around?”

“what for?” he asks, nudging the bedroom door open. you’re met with the frightening sight of a person in robes lounging on your bed, against your pillows. they have a spooky, ghostly mask, but you know who it is the second their mouth opens.

“you took the knives out that quickly?” the figure clicks his tongue, raising a hand to his face to pull off the ghostface mask. so this is what this is—some kind of ridiculous scream roleplay . . but the feel of the knife and the way it gleams is too real. “what happened to playing around, suguru?”

“it’s—it’s you! from the phone.” you say, straining against the man behind you, who pulls the knife a few inches away from your throat.

“careful now, doll. you’ll hurt yourself.”

“if you let me go, maybe i’d—” the man on the bed sits up then, pulling off his mask. you can’t see who he is just yet, the shadow from his hood obscuring his face. in a moment, he grabs hold of your face with a gloved hand, fingers squeezing cruelly at your cheeks.

it’s utterly nasty, the way feelings of attraction twist in your stomach. heat rises to your cheeks and you swallow, looking into diamond blue eyes that have your heart fluttering despicably. how is it possible to even be focused on your grim reaper’s looks, almost entirely forgetting their intentions as you lose yourself in those eyes?

“cat got your tongue? i said i wanna see your insides and you didn’t even look fazed.”

beneath the robe, you can see the tips of snowy hair, along with a face that’s far too handsome to belong to some kind of murderer. you shake your head in disbelief, sucking in a breath. “uh . . huh? sorry, i didn’t hear you.”

he drops your face with an annoyed scoff, stepping back to plop down on your bed before fully pulling off his hood. “y’know what—suguru, you deal with her.”

the man behind you pushes you forward, and you awkwardly take a seat beside the sighing killer. suguru tugs off his mask and inspects the knife closely, running a gloved finger over the edge before nodding. “might as well use the knives on you. maybe you’ll hear us then?”

“what’re you—why’re you doing all this?” you ask, the words sputtering out of your mouth nervously. “is there any way i can convince you not to cut me open?”

suguru looks at his literal partner in crime, pushing his black bangs away from his eyes as he speaks. “oh? trying to cheat death, sweet thing?”

you shrug, casually flopping onto your back. the satiny fabric of your dress flips up, and you unintentionally give both of them a great view of your panties. now that they’re deliberating how to move forward with you, the fear of the situation has dissipated greatly. “i just wanna go to bed and live to see another day tomorrow. name the price for my life and i’ll pay it.”

“those are fighting words,” suguru remarks, “don’t you agree, satoru?”

satoru nods, eyes glued to the thin fabric covering what’s between your legs. his mind runs wild as he imagines what he and suguru could impose on you. they’re practically in sync—suguru looks over just as satoru looks up, the two of them sharing a knowing look.

“hmph. sit up and listen.” satoru nudges your thigh, and you do as he says, looking bored. the whole night has done one too many 180s, giving you the most severe case of whiplash in your life. you’d initially been annoyed, terrified, then mildly attracted, and now . . almost indifferent.

“you’ve got my full attention.”

“we’ll let you live, on one condition,” satoru raises a finger before you can object, while suguru’s eyes covertly sweep over your body. “think you could handle us at the same time?”

a proposition for a threesome is something you certainly did not see coming! you bite the inside of your cheek, willing yourself to maintain composure. suguru spices it up with a smirk, dragging that sharp knife of his along the edge of your jaw.

“you’ll have to fuck like your life depends on it.”

it does. tension weighs the air down, filling the room with a thickness even suguru’s knife couldn’t cut through. sweat beads along the skin of your spine and you exhale in defeat. being between these two would be hard—in all ways possible; but one mistake and they’d probably end up slitting your throat.

truthfully, you’re willing to risk it. most girls don’t usually cross paths with two men that are each extremely attractive and willing to share you between one another. you squeeze your thighs together, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by either of them.

“y-yeah, okay. i’ll do it.”

“atta girl,” satoru praises, the corners of his eyes crinkling. a wicked smile finds its way onto his rosy lips, but you don’t back down, instead spreading your legs. you look between them, a silent invitation extended in one glance.

“lie back for us.”

“you were the one who told me to sit up—” perhaps the unnecessary snark isn’t a good idea, not with the way suguru eyes you warily.

satoru leans in hastily, connecting his lips with yours to effectively shut you up. his body barrels into yours, pushing you into suguru, who catches you and cages you against his strong chest. the knife is abandoned as he strokes his fingertips along the tender skin of your neck, sighing into your ear while satoru occupies your lips.

“so pretty. heh, you’re pretty every night.”

suguru’s touch has you letting out a moan that satoru eagerly swallows, his gloved hands roaming your body. however, he seems to remember he’s got gloves on; without pulling away, he snatches them off.

“her tits, suguru—play with her tits.”

the mumbled words are audible only to suguru, who complies with a chuckle. unlike satoru, he makes no move to do away with his gloves. you moan, his hands squeezing at your tits while his fingertips stroke over your nipples until they grow hard.

“s-suguru,” you mewl, pulling away for a moment to suck a breath into your deprived lungs, “keep touching me there—just like that.”

satoru’s palm comes down hard against the side of your thigh, and he grips your face, forcing you to look at him. “focus on me, got that? wouldn’t want him to stop, would you?”

you shake your head, and in a split second, satoru’s got your upper lip between his teeth. he bites down playfully; the impact makes you gasp, and he seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. arousal pools in your panties, and you fidget in your spot between them, hoping that you’ll finally get the attention you’ve been craving sooner rather than later. suguru’s tongue drags against your neck while he takes in the scent of your body wash from earlier’s shower. there’s a cool sensation coming from the center of his tongue—you can feel a firm ball of some kind.

it’s a little shameful, getting this hot and heavy from a simple kiss. only, his tongue rolls against yours, and any semblance of embarrassment melts away. suguru’s fingers pinch both of your nipples at the same time, sending shockwaves right to your pussy.

“fuck,” you sob into satoru’s mouth, practically lightheaded from how overwhelming it already is, as well as the lack of air. “i-i need more.”

suguru hums, continuing to toy with your hardened nipples. “already slutting yourself out for us, sweetheart? that was fast, wasn’t it?”

satoru finally draws back, a glossy string of spit connecting your lips to his. he doesn’t move just yet, savoring the moment like a piece of special candy—you’ve practically got hearts in your eyes, all hot and bothered because of him. well, suguru is a factor, but he didn’t put in nearly as much work as satoru.

“lie back for us, babe.” this time you don’t fight them on it, scooting off suguru so you can comfortably prop yourself up on the mountain of pillows.

“tsk. this dress ought to go.” suguru brandishes his knife, and cuts through the satin material of the slip as easily as a stick of butter.

“hey!” you snap, the remains of your dress sliding off to the sides of the bed like rags. “what about you two!? you can’t just cut up my clothes like that when neither of you are naked!”

satoru rolls his eyes, tossing your legs apart. meanwhile, suguru clearly isn’t done with that knife; he trails it along the slopes of your naked body, the edge of the blade sharpened in a way that has you gasping. he applies a little bit of pressure, and your skin splits like it would after a paper cut.

“a-are you cutting my skin open?” you ask incredulously. you know the answer, but for whatever reason, you don’t pull away from him.

“maybe,” he replies breezily. “‘s nothing deep. you can handle it, can’t you, honey?”

“would you look at that?” satoru wolf whistles, and heat rises to your cheeks as he gathers your legs together, tugging them up. the knife pauses at your collarbone as suguru leans backwards to take a look, and his eyebrows raise immediately.

“she’s fucking soaked.”

“put the knife down ‘n come give it a taste.”

satoru’s request is breathless, but effective. the knife falls onto the blankets, and for a moment you use your head to consider what might happen in the future—someone could sit on that thing, lie down on it. satoru’s tongue rips the thought out of your head and replaces the words that were on the tip of your tongue with a sweet moan of bliss. your clit throbs at the prospect of more, and their balmy puffs of breath fanning over you only arouse you further.

their faces press together, side by side as they start to eat your pussy in a way that immediately has your back arching and hips bucking. satoru focuses all his attention on your clit, flicking the tip of his tongue over it while suguru slurps up all of your slick. there it is again, that cool sensation—he’s got a tongue piercing. the moonlight shines through the flowy curtains, illuminating the killers in an almost angelic glow . . maybe they’re actually pussy killers.

“‘s like fucking candy,” satoru moans, tongue dipping down to gather up your slick. it bumps into suguru’s, and he only lets out a laugh that sends vibrations through your entire core. “sweetest pussy i’ve ever tasted, shit.”

the room fills with the lewd, nasty sounds of their slurping and licking as they devour your pussy together. you slip a finger between your teeth and bite down once one too many noises threaten to escape you, and suguru pulls back to land a smarting slap on your pussy.

“ah ah. do not try to go quiet on us.”

“sorry, ‘m sorry,” you stutter dumbly, mind and body reeling from the delicious sting of the slap.

“we want you screaming,” he emphasizes, spitting onto your cunt and watching as it flutters, the glob slipping down more rapidly due to the movement. “and you will be, by the end of all this. understand, doll?”

you nod hastily, and his eyes flick upwards to your face, the hardness in them a simple warning. “yeah, i understand.”

satoru’s drawing hearts and letters on your clit, each one making you shudder more than the last. each drag of his tongue makes him moan as he takes in more of your taste. beside him, suguru’s dips his tongue between your folds, the sensation nothing more than a tease. they plan to split you open on their cocks, and getting you desperate for it is only the first step of their plan.

“ngh, t-that’s so fucking good,” you cry, thighs quaking on either side of their heads. “please, i’m gonna cum.”

“give it to us,” satoru is the first to speak, his voice clear as it cuts through the lewd sounds in the air. he’s got one hand on the side of your thigh, holding you open just for them. “on our tongues, like a good girl.”

satoru’s ministrations on your clit grow more insistent; he’s working to pull your orgasm from you, while suguru continues to slurp at your messy pussy, his eyes falling shut. a familiar and overwhelming sensation coils in your tummy; it’s one that has your hands flying to both suguru and satoru’s heads, fingers finding purchase in their hair.

“i—i think ‘m gonna cum,” you cry, back arching off the bed while your hips jolt forward into their faces. after hearing the first word of your delirious warning, satoru replaced his tongue with his finger and moved beside suguru, the two of them slurping all your cunt has to offer. to them, it’s like drinking ambrosia.

you’re pulling hard at their hair, only encouraging them to groan against you. suguru speaks, eyes rolling back from just a little hair pulling. but it makes sense, with hair like that. of course his scalp is very sensitive.

“cover us in your cum, baby.”

obedient and right on time, your pussy gushes, hole fluttering around nothing while your clit throbs beneath satoru’s finger. the intense orgasm has left you twitching from the aftershocks, gasping for breath, and overly sensitive. of course, satoru and suguru take advantage of the aforementioned sensitivity with smirks on their faces.

“no, wait, i-i just came,” is all you can sob, your hands smacked away once you try to tug them off your aching cunt. “satoruuu, suguruuu.”

suguru only laughs, mimicking your tone with a roll of his eyes. “aw, babyyy. that’s too bad, isn’t it?”

with how sensitive you are, it’s not hard for them to drag a second orgasm out of you. this time, a few tears cascade down your cheeks as you fall over the edge with a pitched cry. satoru spanks your still twitching cunt and laughs at the way you gasp and recoil, legs still trembling.

“suguru, whatcha think? you wanna take her mouth ‘n i’ll fuck her pussy?”

“that’s far too considerate, satoru.” he shakes his head, talking about you as if you’re not in front of them. “c’mon,” suguru purrs, gesturing for you to get up as he slips off his robe and boxers. “lie on top of me.”

you can’t help but ogle, a little starstruck by his body and the thrill of everything. he sticks out his tongue playfully when he notices you staring, the metal ball in his tongue gleaming. his abs flex and his cock bobs as he lays down on your bed, beckoning you over with a gloved finger. satoru gulps, panting softly at the sight. following his best friend’s lead, he slips off his matching clothing and mounts the bed, which sinks under his weight with a creak. part of you wonders if the bed frame will give out by the end of this.

“hand me the lube,” suguru grunts, catching the small bottle in his larger hand. the liquid is cool, even through the leather of his gloves. he rubs his fingers together to warm it up a little for you. his fingertips prod at the tight ring of your asshole, and you let out a squeak of surprise.

“c’mon. relax for me, doll.”

you take a breath, body sweltering with arousal. this is certainly new for you, but you don’t complain—and anyway, the slight coolness of the lube feels good against your hot skin. satoru bites down on his lower lip as he watches his best friend prep you to take both of their cocks at the same time. something wicked has the corners of his lips curling up into a smile as he pictures you screaming for them.

likely picturing the same thing, suguru tongues at your jaw, kissing the tender skin wetly before nipping hard. you can only cry out, his lips serving as a simple distraction while his fingers push inside and stretch you out.

you gasp, and he feels you squeeze down hard on his fingers, hips jerking away. “come now, don’t run from it,” suguru coos, twisting his body beneath you to angle you the right way again. he ignores your whining, and satoru silently strokes his cock to the sight. “i know, i know. just breathe for me, ‘kay?”

slowly, your body accommodates the new stretch without any more sting or discomfort. in fact, your hips begin to rock into his fingers, chasing them when he starts to pull out.

“i-i think she’s ready, suguru,” satoru finally speaks up, clearing his throat. his voice is a little choked, and you can clearly see the flush on his cheeks even in the dark. “for both of us.”

“you hear that, honey?” his warm breath fans over the shell of your ear, making you shudder against him. “let’s see who can make you scream the loudest—me or satoru.”

“as if,” the man in question huffs, pushing your thigh to the side and looking over your dripping pussy with an obvious hunger. “fuck, baby. i’m gonna ruin you.”

with that, satoru grasps his cock and guides it inside your needy cunt. suguru does the same, pushing his length into your ass. the three of you moan collectively, a harmony if ever there was one. you sob, tears burning at the corners of your eyes from the intensity of the stretch.

satoru grits his teeth and grips your hips for support, then pushes all the way inside you. he bottoms out easily, his cock sliding against suguru’s, separated only by a thin layer of tissue. so thin that they can feel the shape of one another’s cocks through you.

“fuckin’—shittt, oh my god,” satoru’s easily overwhelmed, heart pounding in his ears while sweat covers his entire body in a sticky sheen.

suguru bites your neck hard, but the pain registers as pleasure despite the fact that he tastes a few irony drops of blood on his tongue.

“do either of you plan to move?” you complain, lips parting in an ‘o’ shape around a whiny moan. “or are we just gonna sit here—”

“shut the fuck up,” suguru groans, clapping a dry and gloved hand over your tits before squeezing them. “we’ll move when we fucking feel like it.”

waves of almost euphoria wash over your entire body, leaving you breathless and panting. when you’d first met these two, you’d been sharp and aware of your surroundings, but now everything is hazy and your body burns as though you have a fever.

the bed creaks dangerously as satoru jumps into action, slowly rocking his hips into yours with a few choked, wanton moans. before long, he’s more confident, fucking into you with a tight grip on your skin and at an invigorated pace. you’re so hot and oh so tight—satoru fucking loves it—you feel perfect. he loves the way you squirm on top of his best friend, hips canting forward eagerly to meet his. the evidence of how good he’s making you feel is painted all over your face, apparent in the wobble of your lower lip and the tears in your eyes.

you hear a sigh from behind you. “can’t lose the bet,” suguru’s voice is laced with faux sympathy. it takes him a few seconds, but he finally starts moving, groaning in approval at the shake of your body and gasping, ragged breaths.

above you, sweat rolls down satoru’s face, the snowy tips of his hair sticking to his forehead while others fall in front of his eyes. “y-you like it like this, baby?” the question is rhetorical, but your whimpering tells him everything he needs to know. the corners of his lips curl into a smile that’s soon wiped away by overwhelming pleasure. “you’re taking us so fuckin’ well, sweetheart . . driving me insane, goddamn.”

“i second that,” the metal ball of suguru’s piercing clicks as he sweeps his tongue over his teeth, panting hard into your ear. “really, baby . . feel like the luckiest fuckin’ guy in the world right now, heh.”

as if you’re not the luckiest girl—being sandwiched between these two is a dream you didn’t even know you had. inside you, their cocks throb against one another, dragging in and out of your holes ruthlessly. the tempo only speeds up, becoming too much too quickly.

you nudge a weak, clammy hand against satoru’s waist, arching your back on top of suguru and nearly nailing him in the face with a reverse headbutt. before the latter can say anything, satoru snatches your hand and intertwines your fingers with his, then pins it down to the bed. he advances forward, his chest now against yours to keep you still.

“ah ah,” he tuts, his nipples hard as they press against yours, “move your damn hand, baby. this is what you wanted, remember?”

“i certainly do,” suguru titters, nipping at your earlobe. “don’t be like that. you can take it, can’t you?”

his words are convincing; he’s got you nodding in acceptance. he’s right, of course. this is what you wanted earlier—you’ve been taking both of their cocks so fucking well. just as you tell yourself you’ll make it through this, satoru’s fingers ghost along the soft skin of your stomach. despite the exhaustion that’s setting into his body, his hips don’t even stutter as he focuses on your swollen clit.

“oh . . oh my god,” the words are torn from your throat, which only grows more sore with all the noise you can’t seem to stop making. a familiar shakiness settles in your voice, and you’re fighting to keep the breath in your lungs, but it escapes you far too easily. “i’m-‘m gonna cum for you, ‘m—”

as you hurtle closer to all encompassing euphoria, the sounds of skin slapping against skin fade out and grow foggy. yet, you manage to hear their voices eagerly spurring you on, the two of them in the same boat as you.

“yeah, ‘s right. fuckin’ cum for us, baby.” satoru’s own orgasm creeps up on him, his head tipping back as your pussy starts to flutter around his cock. of course, suguru can feel the throbbing of his best friend’s cock and the quavering of your needy pussy. he releases your tits, seeing the bruising he’s left before squeezing his eyes shut in concentration.

“ya heard him, honey,” he utters after a long groan, his voice low and husky. “take all of our fucking cum.” you gasp out, nodding your head frantically as you teeter over the edge.

everything happens fast, and all at the same time. satoru cums inside you, his broad shoulders shaking as he rides it out while your pussy practically milks him for more. your cunt spasms, hips jerking upwards from the intensity of it. the movement pushes out suguru, his cum leaking out of your bruised ass and spilling in white puddles on his pelvis.

satoru looks down, biting down on his lower lip as he pulls his cock from you. this is quite the reward, seeing cum pour from both of your spent and twitching holes. your shuddering, sweltering body finally begins to cool after what feels like hours. suguru’s exhausted, but he kindly lifts you and lays you down on the bed beside him. satoru flops down beside you with a heaving sigh, only to lay on the knife from earlier.

“ow, fuck!” he jolts, sitting up and tugging the sharp blade from where it’s tangled in the sheets. he unceremoniously hurls it to the floor, laying back down with a vengeful huff.

you’re too tired to laugh, but a small smile plays on your lips. “do you still wanna kill me?”

“not right now,” suguru throws an arm over his face, gesturing in the direction of the floor. “the knife’s down there, anyway.”

you sit up, craning your neck to take a look. from what you can see, the floor is littered with their dark costumes and two masks, the knife completely out of sight. “i don’t see it.”

“hm, remember we talked about making you scream for us?” satoru speaks up, and in your dizzy haze, you don’t notice that glint in his eyes.

“uh, yeah, i think so? i thought you already did.”

“don’t you watch scary movies?” suguru scoffs, looking at you from beneath his forearm. “you should know what happens next.”

you laugh, rolling your eyes. “yeah, whatever. what happens next, you kill me? very funny. let me convince you again,” and you clear your throat. “no, please don’t kill me, mr. ghostface! i wanna be in the sequel!”

satoru simply shakes his head, and the knife plunges into your back. with a gasp, you sputter out a few garbled words, blood pouring down your bare back as you fall backwards onto the bed. you writhe on the mussed sheets, blood spilling from your lips and trickling down your chin in vermillion rivulets. beside you, the blood covered suguru and satoru let you struggle aimlessly until your body stills; then they slip their masks on again . .

“andddd cut!” the director jumps from his seat with proud claps, and the production assistants rush in from every direction to help clean up the mess.

“satoru, fuck! that knife was so sharp,” you sit up, sending a glare his way as you wipe the fake blood off your skin. despite being a fake knife, the shiny plastic point was rather jagged.

“excellent performances, the three of you! our halloween special is sure to be a hit!” the director is gushing as he praises the three of you.

“yeah, yeah,” suguru says, his cheeks flushed a rosy pink. “i’ve gotta take a shower. seriously, the corn syrup is so fucking sticky.”

#kurooh #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto smut #geto x reader #geto x you #jujutsu kaisen imagines #smut #ghostface #geto suguru x reader #jjk x you #jjk fanfic

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arolesbianism · 1 year ago

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I have such a love hate relationship with Ellie. On the one hand I have my petty grudge against her, but on the other hand shes so sillyyyyy being Jackie's lil lackey did her so many favors in my mind she's not only a lil shit but also a lil teachers pet I love her

#rat rambles #oni posting #honestly my only genuine nit pick with her writing is that shes almost Too much of a presence #but thats just me being the guy who's favorite rw character is sliver of straw and favorite oc is the one that doesnt exist in universe #I love how theyre all varrying levels of just some guy who fell in too deep #as much as Ive been loving learning abt them and would kill to know more abt them the vagueness is like half the appeal to me #anyways to be clear abt ellie shes not like a huge suck up or anything shes just jackies lil errand boy #I like to imagine she and nikola's beef extended beyond the food stealing incident #the jackie lackey duo out for blood until they slowly realize that everything is so fucked #I like to imagine that ellie started cracking pretty bad towards the end as by then she rly couldn't keep playing dumb #especially when it starts reaching Her circle of scientists. whether joshua knew or not thats a scary situation for your bestie to be in #I doubt she like. did anything abt it. at least not without getting caught. but maybe she at least tried who knows #this might be giving her too much credit but Im choosing to believe that her care for joshua would stoke the flames enough #also her job as the numbers guy means that she likely at least could make an educated guess on the temporal bow situation #but yeah I like to imagine at some point ellie stops fucking with nikola and then stops showing up at work entirely #and nikola is just sitting there quietly freaking the fuck out as he realizes that everyone who was hired to help with this stuff is being #picked off and that there are absolutely Not enough people to manage how severe the situation is #also tbc I do in fact have a timeline in my head and it does not end well for anyone involved #but Im trying to refrain from going too into scientist hcs until Im sure Ive read everything #tbh Im not sure how Ill get the stuff Im missing but Ill certainly try

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withthewerewolves · 2 months ago

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My personal favorite buddie proposal idea is that Eddie sidles into a storage closet at the station one day while Buck is doing inventory and asks "hey can I talk to you as my best friend instead of as the love of my life?"

And once Buck is done having heart palpitations (love of his life! best friend!) he's like "yeah of course" and even sets aside his clipboard so he can give Eddie his full attention

And Eddie gives him a shy/smug little look because he knows what he's doing and says "so I've decided to propose to my boyfriend-" he gives Buck a second to start thinking in full sentences again (boyfriend! that's me! propose! marriage! forever! choosing me forever!) before finishing "-and I was hoping that, as my best friend, you'd come ring shopping with me"

And Buck manages to say "yeah - I'd - I'd love to" and he means the ring shopping but he also kind of means the proposal and they both know it and they spend the rest of the shift barely meeting each other's eyes and then looking away to smile and giggle like teenagers

And they do go ring shopping and they pick out something Buck really likes while pretending very seriously that Buck and Eddie's future fiancé are not the same person

But THEN, before Eddie has a chance to actually propose (he has PLANS), Buck gets him alone at the station and is all "hey, so, can I ask something as your best friend instead of as the love of your life?"

And Eddie is like this sounds familiar but he's also having heart palpitations because he's just as gone on Buck as Buck is on him, so he says "yes of course"

And Buck is like "I think my boyfriend is going to propose, and when I say yes I want to have a ring for him-" he gives Eddie a second to be able to form thoughts beyond he's going to say yes!!!! even though he KNEW he was going to say yes, before continuing "-so I was hoping my best friend would help me pick one out"

And Eddie feels a little drunk (is this what Buck felt when he did this to him?) but he says "I'd love to, yeah" and they spend the rest of the shift not getting farther than a foot away from each other and smiling down at whatever they're pretending to be working on

So they go ring shopping again. They get the same salesperson, and pretend very seriously that this is a return favor for Buck helping Eddie last week, and that they're definitely marrying different people, they're just here as each other's best friend

And Buck carries the ring they picked out for Eddie around in his pocket until Eddie proposes because he wants to be ready, and it takes a couple weeks for Eddie to get it all set up and they both feel electrified the whole time

I don't know how Eddie eventually proposes, but Buck loves it and cries and says yes and gives Eddie his ring, and all their friends are very happy for them while also thinking how insufferable they are

And then they live happily ever after

#911 #buddie #my thoughts

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logansdoll · 6 months ago

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hammered

you get a little too turnt during girls night, and logan comes to your rescue.

CW: heavily suggestive, profanity, Logan's your white knight, Ororo's gettin lit, men are creeps, you're actually drunk as a skunk, etc.

"You guys got together?! Why didn't you tell me?!" Ororo gasped, loudly, sitting up straight in her seat.

Your brows furrowed, eyes widening at her volume, a few passing party-goers sharing concerned looks.

"Say it louder. I don't think the rest of the city heard you..." you grumbled, face burning as you took a sip from your strawberry daiquiri.

She sat next to you on the little leather couch situated at the back of the club near the bar, which had began to trickle with activity.

The three of you had been there for only about thirty minutes, the buzz of the night starting to pick up, the dance floor packed with dancers and drinks flowing.

And the eyes, still staring.

"Ignore her, (n/n)," Jean smiled, kindly, as she rested a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "I think it's sweet you two took it at your own pace. It shows how serious you both are about this."

The three of you were having easy conversation, drinking and gabbing about whatever came to mind, when you and Logan were suddenly brought up.

And Ororo nearly died of shock when she found out you two were official.

"And speaking of seriousness... I believe we have an audience..."

Another group of three in particular, whose gazes were piercing you and your friends from across the way.

The three intense pairs of eyes belonged to three men in their best designer.

They each had their own outstanding feature: the tallest one sitting on the right had long, black hair, while the one on the left had arms roped in tattoos and lip piercings, the final one having a buzz cut and a snaggle-toothed smile.

Their lustful stares all but ignored by the two sitting next to you, your mind preoccupied with downing your second daiquiri that soon turned into a third.

You barely paid the men any mind, already knowing a man ten times hotter than all of them combined.

You actually missed him a whole damn lot.

You both were supposed to have a date night, but he got called last minute to round up Rogue and her friends who were causing havoc at some far off arcade.

So the girls dragged you out to the club, much to your protest.

'The kids just had to choose tonight of all nights...'

Ororo scoffed, gulping down another jell-O shot, "Waiting on him to come?" she chuckled, the flashing club lights making her light eyes sparkle.

You flushed in your mini dress, feeling hot despite the blasting AC and your exposed skin.

"You'll be waiting a while," she sighed, crossing her smooth legs over one another. "I heard Scott over the phone... those kids are in serious trouble."

You'd be lying if you said you weren't disappointed that he wasn't there, resting his hand at the small of your back, giving you those lustful stares on the dance floor, and complimenting your outfits in his own Logan way.

You'd done so much to make sure you looked hotter than hot, too.

You had raided your closet and pulled out a short, backless mini dress that made your legs look longer and showed off the curve of your spine sliding down towards your ass.

You loved, loved, loved it—how beautiful the black fabric looked against your skin; how sexy it made you feel.

Not to mention it was one of Logan's favorites.

He'd torn it off you many times.

Combined with your stiletto heels, fresh mani-pedi, the perfume adorning your wrists and the back of your knees, and hair that gracefully caressed your shoulders, you felt like a damn vixen.

Ororo sat up, taking your hand in hers, "No sense in sitting around while you wait, eh?"

She smirked at you, mischief in her eyes.

"Let's dance."

You paused a moment, hesitant.

But in that instant, those three daiquiris hit you like a truck, and all inhibitions went out the window.

'Fuck it.'

You stood up, chugging the last of your drink before taking her hand.

"Let's do it."

Famous last words.

Smoothly, you glided your fingers up your body, swaying your hips in rhythm with the beat as Ororo danced with one of the men.

You two had been dancing so well, you called the attention of the entire club. And with you about seven daiquiris in, it felt as if the music was coursing through your veins and melding with your bones.

The men of the establishment were hounding you both relentlessly—Jean having escaped to the bar to strike up some friendly conversation with the bartender—and even with your inebriated state, you fought them off vigorously, smacking away hands and returning advances with a sharp tongue.

Though the novelty was beginning to fade, and the urge to go home had began to set in.

As if on que, your phone began to buzz, taking your attention away from your thoughts.

"Hold up! I'm getting a call!" you laughed. "I'll be right back, 'Ro!"

She gave you a wink before you went stumbling off the dance floor, tugging a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You decided to go to the nearest ladies' room, leaning against the wall where the long line started, before flipping open your phone.

You looked down at the caller ID, grinning to see the name of your favorite guy on the screen.

"Heyyyy, Logan," you sang into the phone with a drunk giggle.

"There you are," Logan let out a sigh of relief from the other side of the phone. "I've been tryin' to reach ya. I just finished roundin' up the kids and droppin' 'em off back home, so I'm free for the rest of the night if ya still wanna go out."

"Oh!" you chuckled, "Sorry!"

As you paused, Logan suddenly became confused.

"Where the hell are you? It's so loud, I can barely hear ya."

You placed one foot up on the wall, leaning your back flush against the cool tiles. "'Roro 'n' Jean took me to the club 'n' these guys tried to join us," you slurred. "Oh, they bought us drinks, too. And one said he liked my dress. He wasn't as good looking as you."

"You wearin' the backless one?" he asked, sounding intrigued.

You giggled giddily in response, finding humor in his quiet curse.

"Damn... ya had to pull that one out?"

"Oh, you should see me, Logan... I look gooood," you smiled, looking down at yourself. "But it's not the same... s'not as fun without you."

You lowered your foot back down to the ground and crossed your arm over your midsection, suddenly feeling cold and small.

"I miss you, Logan," you said, quietly. "Could you pick me up, please?"

His chest warmed at your tone, unable to fight the smirk on his face.

Despite the fact that you were absolutely sloshed, your mind still drifted to him, and even missed him when he was away.

It was adorable.

"Sure, sweetheart. Where are—?" "Wait!" you shrieked, a smile blooming on your face as you got quiet.

Logan cocked a brow.

'Huh?'

It was your favorite song.

"Logan! It's my song! I'll be right back!" you smile into the phone before hanging up, scrambling back to Ororo.

When you shimmeyed back onto the dance floor, she happily greeted you, moving in sync with the rhythm as you began your own moves.

"Oooo, what's that?" you asked, pointing at the glass she was holding.

It was orange and topped with ice and chopped oranges and strawberries, reminding you of a tequila sunrise.

"Want it?" she giggled, holding it out for you to take.

Which you gladly did, tossing it back lie it was water, humming approvingly at the taste as you licked the remnants off your lips.

The two men next to her were close to falling out from the scene.

"Fuck," one of them groaned. "Can you do that to me?"

You turned to them, brows furrowed. "Fuck off. My guy's gonna be here anyyyyy second."

Ororo gasped as she threw an arm around you, pulling you close to her perfume-soaked neck, "He's coming? That's great!"

You both cheered together, throwing your hands in the air as you continued to dance.

"C'mon," a man smirked from behind you. "What's he doing leaving a pretty lil' thing like you alone?"

Your face fell, expression annoyed as you turned to him, "Didn't I tell you to go somewhere? He's gonna show up sooon..."

The man had gotten closer, so close that you could see him lick his lips, expectantly.

He scoffed, leering down at you under the strobe lights, "But he ain't here, is he?"

"I wouldn't put money on it, bub," Logan replied from behind him.

Your eyes lit up like stars as soon as you laid eyes on your dark, handsome bodyguard.

He stood there behind the man with his thick, leather-clad arms crossed over his broad chest, which was covered by his white tee.

And he looked less than pleased.

"Logan!" you smiled, moving to stand by his side like a magnet.

The man turned to face him, watching as Logan snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

"This is the boyfriend?" he laughed, amused.

His words hardened Logan's expression tenfold, and it took everything in you not to giggle.

"Yeah, I am. And why the fuck are you still here?"

His words forced the man's expression to meld into one of frustration, and you bit back an amused smile at the sight.

You were drunk out of your mind, but you knew better than to interfere.

The man swallowed thickly, "I was just—"

"Harrassin' my woman."

You felt your heart flutter at the nickname.

He'd been calling you that for a while, but somehow it always felt like the first time.

"I didn't know she was yours—"

In a flash, his Logan's fist was up, his claws were on display and right in front of the man's face, scaring the shit out of him.

"I don't like repeating myself," he spat, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Fuck. Off."

You both watched the man scatter, eyes wide as he scrambled toward the bar.

Damn.

'What a bitch...'

"You alright?" Logan asked, taking off his leather jacket as he glared around the room, taking notice of the other leering men on the dance floor. "This place is full of fuckin' sleazeballs."

You shrugged, running a hand through your hair, "Eh, I managed."

Wordless, he handed over his jacket, your nose wrinkled in confusion.

"What's that for?"

"You're shivering, (n/n)."

You looked down at yourself, realizing that you were, indeed, shivering.

"Oh."

"C'mon," he sighed, draping the jacket over your shoulders before resting his hand at the small of your back, steering you toward the exit. "I think that's enough fun for one night."

Glancing back at Ororo, he gave a small look, slightly concerned.

"Scott's on his way for you two... You gonna be good?"

"Tipsy, but okay!" she gave him a thumbs up, along with a little wink. "Have fun, you two!"

He ignored the innuendo, but nodded, going back to ushering you out the back door.

"I missed you, Logan," you confessed, a slight whine to your voice as you practically clung to him.

"I know you did, sweetheart," he sighed, approaching one of Cyclops' cars. "Let's get you home."

The moment you hung up the phone, he sped over to the club, breaking about fifteen different traffic laws in the process.

An annoyance he decided to deal with the next day.

Without warning, you grabbed him, shoving him up against a wall of the alley you were in, interlocking your fingers as your free hand traced mindless shapes in his chest.

"You look so good, Logan," you purred, eyeing him up and down with hungry eyes, heating him from the inside out. "So good."

Suddenly, your lips attached to his neck, lazily peppering the flesh with kisses and pecks, with the occasional nip.

"(n/n)... you're drunk," Logan stated, moreso for himself, as he weakly tried to pry you off.

"I'd do this anyway," you grinned into his skin, pulling back to look at him, gaze half-lidded. "You look so sexy..."

Slowly, your lips curled into a hazy, loving smile, your eyes staring up at him like he was the only thing in the world.

Fuck...

You'd think he was about to go into cardiac arrest.

'This woman's gonna be the death of me...'

"What's wrong?" you asked, lips pouty and eyes glassy as you looked up at him, your expression one of hurt. "You're not touching me..."

"Doll," he sighed, voice slightly strained. "As gorgeous as you look... and as much as I wanna pin you against this wall... you're fuckin' hammered. And I'd like to feel you up when you actually know what yer doin'."

He pulled back to see your reaction, only to find you were already out like a light, softly snoring and drooling all over his shirt.

A soft smile fell onto his lips at the adorable sight, the man brushing some of your hair out your face before scooping you up in his arms, pressing a long kiss on your forehead.

'Somethin' else...'

#james howlett #james howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #wolverine x reader #x men #x men x reader #wolverine

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