#look. I spent too much time putting this together. if I don’t share it I’ll explode

[monkawonka]

To celebrate to end of the Wolfwood 🎉popularity contest🎉 here’s my wolfwood playlist that nobody asked for but I am compelled to share anyways!!!!!!

I don’t have a vash playlist so congratulations to the vash 🎉popularity contest 🎉 winner. We love you vash.

[jooyeonsvape]

fuck buddy : mingyu smut

genre: smut

w/c: 3.1k

warnings: dom!mingyu, sub!reader, female reader, sex toys, throat fucking, edging, dry humping, name calling

a/n: i hope you enjoy!! make sure to like and follow 🙏🏻 my requests are open, send me anything!

there's quite a big weight that immediately lifts off your shoulders when your boyfriend and you finally call it quits after contemplating the past few days on your future with each other. there was no malice or hatred between you and him, you've just grown apart through the years.

the two of you lived together, so now you were currently moving out, into your best friends apartment and starting anew. "thank you for letting me stay, i have money saved up so i'll pay half the rent every month," you hug your friend and she pulls back a little. "don't worry about rent, just cook for me and i'll be fine."

you finish packing the last of your things at your now ex-boyfriends house and look around the room you shared years of love together. you let out a deep sigh, leave the house, and put your key under the mat. 

your bestfriend and you go to her apartment, quickly unpacking your items in her spare room, and you plop on her couch when you're finished. "we should go out tonight and meet cute boys," she suggests and you start giggling, shaking your head. "i just ended a 3 year relationship 2 days ago, i'm not looking for another one right now." 

your friend wraps her arms around you, always being this touchy with everyone, so you were used to it. "i'm not saying get in a relationship right away, you need a 'slut phase', it's healthy after breaking up with someone," she huffs, pulling away from your body so she could cross her arms, "i'd actually prefer sleeping around rather than be in a relationship." 

you hum and think on it. the last time you've had sex was months ago due to your schedules being different and your ex never having the time for you, which was one of the reasons for the breakup. 

"okay, but instead of going out, can we have a girls night with our other friends and just scroll through tinder or something?" you pout, not really wanting to socialize with anyone right now. she nods and texts in your friends' group chat, 'slumber party at our apartment, bring snacks.'

during the sleepover, you scroll through tinder not being particularly impressed by anyone so far, but you continue and try to be less picky.

after hours of scrolling, you only found a few that was up to par with your type and one of your friends gasp loudly, making everyone turn their head. “im so stupid!! if you want to experience new things instead of vanilla sex, you should see mingyu!” your best friend claps her hands and grabs your shoulders, “you NEED to visit mingyu, i should’ve suggested it before.”

all the girls seem to know who he is, but you are looking around like a lost puppy, being the only one not knowing the name. “i’ll pay for your first night with him, don’t worry.” one of the other friends say, typing on her phone.

“wait wait wait… who the hell is mingyu?” you finally ask and there is a blush on all of their faces.

“he beds bored women and knows a women’s body better than they do.”

“he’s so sexy.”

“i’ve spent thousands on him when i need to feel something.”

you nod and get quite intimidated at the thought of sleeping with someone besides your ex. “well, what does he look like?” you whisper out and when the phone is turned to you, of his face, your breathe stops for a minute.

your heart was beating fast and hands are clammy just looking at his picture. “how much do you have to pay?” you ask and your friends look at each other. “$100 an hour, $1,000 to spend the night, and a $50 an hour fee for a phone call.” your mouth goes wide and look at them to see if they were pranking you, but their faces showed no indication of joking.

“that’s far too expensive..” you mumble and your best friend shakes her head, “it’s worth it, i promise.” you just simply shrug and your other friend sets up a date for next week, paying the fee.

the nervousness that you felt in your stomach all week only heightened as you walk to the address of mingyu. he said to be there at 5:00 pm but you were running a little late, hopefully he didn’t mind.

at 5:25 pm exactly you follow the instructions that your friend gave you, typing a code on mingyu’s apartment security system. a loud buzzer noise was heard and the door unlocks for you, entering the extravagant apartment.

you walk down a hallway, looking around for the man your friends keep raving about, and finally see a figure sitting in a chair, cross legged.

“mingyu? sorry i’m late-” before you could finish your sentence, the man cuts you off, “it’s mr. mingyu or mr. kim, and you are late, which i don’t like.” he sternly speaks, making your body get chills. “s-sorry..” you whimper out, walking closer to him.

the room was dark and you can’t even see his face, just his body in a suit. he switches on a lamp next to him, looking your body up and down. “you’re forgiven, after all this is your first time to see me. if you do it again you’re going to be punished, got it?” mingyu asks, but you were curious on what kind of punishment he was talking about. “got it?” he again asks, more persistently this time and you nod.

mingyu sighs and stands up from the chair, walking closer to you until you hit the wall behind you. he puts a hand on the wall aggressively next to your head, and the other tracing your cheek skin with his thumb. “you’re quite pretty darling… i wonder why you came to see me.”

a puddle of wetness was soon forming in your panties at his hand touching your skin, he seemed to know how to handle your body even though he’s only touched your cheek so far. “i just broke up with someone, needed more experience.” you mutter out and mingyu hums, leaning down to kiss your cheek where he was rubbing.

“it says you’re open to anything sexually on your invoice, so i’m going to assume there’s no rules?” he asks looking at his phone and you shake your head, “no sir.” when mingyu hears the name his lip curls, still looking at your invoice. “we have 3 hours together, let’s have some fun.”

you were so nervous about what he was about to do to you but it was also thrilling, the only sex you’ve ever known was missionary and it only lasted 5 minutes maximum.

mingyu walks the both of you to his bed where he had a plethora of toys on a side table next to the bed, making you gulp. “lay down pet, i’ll take good care of you.” his voice was so low it made your skin cover with goosebumps.

“i am very kinky, i pride myself on being able to make a woman cum on command. i don’t like kissing on the lips or using my dick, so everything i do to you will be from my fingers, mouth, or the various toys.” mingyu introduces and you nod, finding it weird he won’t be having actual sex with you.

“if it’s too much for you, we can have a safe word if you’d like, i usually go with grapefruit.” mingyu continued and you just nod again, “that’s fine.”

you watch as the man walks to your side of the bed, managing to take off your shirt and also unclip your bra at the same time, taking both of the pieces off skillfully. you were astonished at his fingers and he sees you looking impressed, chuckling to himself.

you were now left in panties and skirt, squeezing your thighs together gently at the puddle still building in your underwear. mingyu grabs your boobs in his hands, giving them a big squeeze, your body jolting at his roughness.

he leans in to give your neck kisses while he lifts up your skirt, letting your panties be visible to him. mingyu teases you by trailing a finger down your body, dragging it painfully slow, past your belly button and to the top of your pantie line.

his pace never fastens as he enters his long fingers inside your panties, his middle finger rubbing slow circles around your clit. the noise you made when he touched you was foreign, never feeling something so pleasurable.

you hear a low chuckle come from his mouth when you moan and squirm in his arms so he would give you more. “be patient baby girl.” mingyu murmured in your ear, sending chills down your back. “i’ll take my time with you.”

you restlessly lay while he rubs your clit with two fingers now, building speed with every circle he does over your bean.

your body jerks and moans slip out, bucking your hips gently. “damn, how needy are you?” mingyu teases, dragging a finger down your folds, “you’re so wet Y/N.” you moan, biting down hard on your lip when he enters a finger inside your tight pussy.

“take off the rest of your clothes, i want to play with you.” he commands, standing to pick up a few toys off his table.

you look over as you were undressing, seeing him holding a vibrator, dildo, and handcuffs. you gulp down the knot stuck in your throat, nervous for what was about to come.

“lay spread eagle, im going to cuff you.” you nod and do as instructed, your arms and legs spreading wide for him. he tightens the cuffs around your limbs, giving your clit a kiss once he’s done and grabs the vibrator.

mingyu turns it on low, dragging it up and down your pussy, making your body already spasm. the movements of the feeling of it rest on your clit was so erotic, you’ve never owned one and you didn’t know it felt this good.

“why are you holding your moans? tell me how good i make you feel.” he whispers, looking up at you through his eyelashes and you nod, letting the breathe you didn’t know you were holding, out. you never dirty talked before or had it done to you so it made you shy when you hear his voice.

“i’m going to use this next,” mingyu states, holding up the biggest dildo you’ve ever seen. you gulp again, the girth was bigger than your forearm and you stutter, “i-is that going to fit in me?” he chuckles at your innocence and nods, giving your pussy a hard slap, making you moan loud. “it’ll fit perfectly.”

you relax and look down at him rubbing your juices on the tip, teasing your hole before sliding the dildo in you. the vibrator was still buzzing on your clit when he did this and you instantly cum without meaning to. you let out the biggest yell of the night, gripping the headboard under your restriced wrists.

mingyu smirks to himself, knowing you just came, and pushes the dildo further inside you. he didn’t expect to let you leave here with just one orgasm.

you became more comfortable with moaning, yelling his name at times and he gives your clit a slap every time you didn’t say “mr. mingyu.”

he finally enters the dildo inside you fully, sitting up so he could roughly thrust it in and out of you, never missing your soft spot with every move. “f-fuck, i’m cumming again.” you yell out, arching your back.

he took this as a chance to tease you, pulling the dildo out of you quickly, seeing your hole tighten when he removed the toy. he also pulls the vibrator off your clit then stands to uncuff you, watching you pant and shake from the pleasure.

mingyu stands above you, picking you up and positioning you to doggy style, engulfing your pussy in his mouth. “you taste so sweet, best pussy i’ve ever eaten.” he was being truthful whether you knew it or not, he enjoyed tasting you on his tongue.

there was a strange feeling in his pants he’s never felt with any of his other dates, he was growing a hard on by your moans. “can you please stick a finger in?” you ask pitifully, turning around to look at him with a dirty smirk he hasn’t seen yet.

mingyu clears his throat and adjusts his pants, trying to get any kind of pressure on his dick he could. “say the magic word.” he gets back in his character, teasing your hole with his finger but not entering it until you say please.

you continue to look at him and push your ass backwards so his finger enters, he was stunned but it was so hot. you continue to move your ass and fuck his finger, not needing his help.

mingyu pulls his finger away and stands up, pressing his bulge to your ass, giving you a hard slap. he slowly grinds against you which he’s never done before, giving you two more slaps, making your ass red.

“you seem hard sir, do you think you should slide your big dick inside me?” you ask, already knowing he didn’t fuck his clients.

mingyu pulls his hips away, throwing you on your back so he can see your face. “you’re such a slut.” he groans, lifting your legs up as high as they could go. “you want me to fuck you this badly?” he asks looking down at your wetness leaking on his sheets.

“yes i want you to fill me up sir.” you whimper, grabbing your sensitive boobs in your hands, squeezing on them hard. even you were surprised by your actions but he uncovered a secret freak inside you didn’t know was there.

mingyu hesitates before unbuckling his belt, there was something about you that made him want to feel your walls around him. even if girls before begged, he never fucked them.

“come to the end of the bed and suck my dick.” he commands and you crawl to his standing body, helping him take off his pants. “i’ve never done this before, so you have to teach me.” you smirk, gripping his big dick his your small hand.

when mingyu hears this he takes your hand that was wrapped around him, spitting on it, “jerk.” you nod, getting more wet at the feeling of his spit on you.

your hand goes up and down on his dick, jerking with a hard grip on him. without being asked, you lean down and spit on his tip, mixing his precum with your spit, going back to jerk him fast.

the sight of you jerking him made his dick grow bigger and you lean down slowly kissing his tip. he throws his head back and moans lowly, the sound making you take him all in your mouth.

you bob your head up and down on his dick, laying your tongue flat on the bottom of it, “you sure you haven’t done this before?” mingyu asks between moans with a laugh, your cheeks turning red.

he grabs the sides of your head, slowly starting to thrust in your mouth, making you gag. he was encouraged by your gags, gradually going faster.

saliva was dripping out of your mouth as mingyu slams harder in your throat, giving you no mercy as he slams. “you like this baby girl? you got me to fuck your whore mouth.” he grunts, starting to sweat at his hairline.

you moan against him, sending vibrations and he gives one last hard slam before pulling out of your mouth, the spit dripping down your chin. “so sexy.” he whispers, laying on his back and jerking himself at the sight of you.

“come ride me.”

“yes sir.” you say hoarsely, straddling his waist and looking down at half of his suit still on. you pull the tie off slowly and grind against him, making him give you an ass slap.

“what did i say?” mingyu asks, bucking up his hips underneath you, slapping you again when you ignore him.

“i want to see your beautiful chest sir.” you pout, unbuttoning the buttons on his shirt purposely slow. he grunts and grabs your waist, letting you grind fast on his aching cock.

after you successfully take off his shirt, you lean down, kissing his neck and chest. your liquids now fully covered his dick with your grinds and he lifts you up, slamming into you without warning. “fuck mingyu!!” you yell and he slaps your ass hard, banging his hips up into you fast.

the fast movements made you tighten around him, and you started bouncing on him in the same rhythm as his thrusts. you grab your boobs and throw your head back, the feeling of your clit rubbing against his lower abdomen making you cum soon.

“i’m close sir, can i cum?” you ask, kissing his neck more and leaving hickeys. mingyu hums with pleasure, both of you keeping your fast pace.

“cum with me.” he commands and you whimper, not knowing when he’d cum. you hold it in as long as you can but start shaking when he teases you by rubbing your clit.

you stop your movements and fall into his neck when he fucks you, the pleasure getting too intense.

he kisses your ear and you can hear his grunts, “cum now.” he whispers, slapping your ass again, your body spasming ontop of him, and let out another yell that came out as a cry.

mingyu groans just as loud, feeling his warm cum shoot inside your pussy, you follow his lead and cum around him. he feels you tighten your walls around him and moans, his dick sensitive from the orgasm.

you lay on his chest, dick still inside you, heavy breathing in his neck. “that was the best sex i’ve ever had.” you whisper in his ear and he nods, rubbing your butt slowly in his hand. “me too baby.”

you blush at him, nuzzling your head in his sweaty neck, “you do this as a job, there’s no way i was the best.” you laugh and he kisses your head softly, “it really was, i dont get to use my dick often.”

you blush more and look up at mingyu’s red and wet face, “my 3 hours is over, thank you for today.”

he grabs your waist so you couldn’t get up and lays your head back in neck. “i think you have a few more hours.” his eyes were closed and he was murmuring so you knew he was tired, as were you.

you giggle softly, “are you going to fall asleep inside me?” he nods, grabbing a blanket and putting it over the two of you. “you can get free services from now on.” he whispers and you knew he would be a long, pleasurable fuck buddy.

[oceantornadoo]

the ex-wife chronicles pt.1 (ex husband!john price x f!reader)

masterlist | next

follow and turn on notifications: @tornadoowarning

John Price loves Kate Laswell. She’s like an older sister to him, a brusque sort of bond built by survival and betrayal.

He hates one thing about her: how much she loves her wife.

“You’re takin’ leave?” John huffs into the speak of his phone, his shoulder pressing it into his ear. “Soap’s going to be recovering for months, and Ghost with him. Our main enemy is dead. I was offered two months of leave as compensation for the past year so yes, John, I am taking leave so I can actually see my wife for more than a meal.” John sighs discontentedly, already knowing this means he’ll have to be interacting with others who don’t understand his team. It’s a sneaky mistake he tries to slip into the conversation, testing the waters.

“Not that my men won’t enjoy the two months of leave-” Kate cuts him off with a chuckle. Damn it. “I’m assigning a temporary contact for you. I trust her with my life and I think you will too. She will be giving me updates every week.” John sighs again like a disappointed grandfather. “She’s experienced in managing field trauma as well, so she’ll be like a field therapist but with my clearance. The higher-ups were shaken by Soap getting shot and reassurance that the team will exist in six months. She’ll help Ghost reacclimate, Soap recover, and put you and Gaz back together. Lord knows you need it.” John really can’t deny that. The shell-shocked look that hides behind Gaz’s eyes every time he enters the hospital. Simon sits vigil at Johnny’s bedside, scaring off the most seasoned doctors with one glare. John doesn’t even want to know what he looks like since he’s only shaved once since Johnny got shot three weeks ago. It’s like penance since one of his men almost died. “You sayin’ we’ll have two months of team bonding while you fuck off on your honeymoon?” He can hear a smile in Kate’s tone as she replies, “We’re calling it a vow renewal. I’ll send you a postcard.”

The next ten minutes are spent reading emails about the logistics of this ‘team-bonding’. Compulsory group activities made for specialized military teams. None of that holding-hands bullshit but real strategies to use on and off the field. Breathing techniques, yoga, massages, visualization techniques, while reacclimating them to a battlefield. Each team member will be assigned a different therapist and the woman Laswell is sending will be ensuring that therapy is attended. Laswell still hasn’t sent over the personnel file, something about ‘not wanting to ruin the surprise’ which John only grunted at, watching the end of his cigar burn closer and closer to his hand. The spark of him reminds him of the bullet-hole in Johnny’s head, a starburst of destruction. Maybe a little therapy wouldn’t hurt.

“She gets there tomorrow. She’ll be staying on base and in your section of housing, easier access for emergencies.” What emergencies? The constant nightmares that bleed into John’s days? “We don’t have an extra room.” Kate’s silent for a second. “Soap-” “Is off limits. Jesus, Kate.” She’s silent and he can hear her flipping through files, likely looking at the base’s layout. “Actually, I have a better idea. The isolation housing.” It’s usually used as punishment for unruly recruits, a bit like that Parent Trap movie his nieces used to watch. Ex-nieces.

Four bedrooms with a shared bathroom, updated plumbing but an isolated location. Perfect for forcing soldiers who don’t like each other together until they’re used to the smell of each other’s shit. Unfortunately perfect for two months of team bonding. “There’s no office.” Kate snorts at his protest. “Use Ghost’s. He’s required to show up but it’s not like he’ll be sleeping there. I bet he won’t even step foot into the room.” John sighs in defeat at her solution. A part of him knows his team needs this but it irks him, knowing they’re going to be fattened up like chickens just to be slaughtered the moment they’re able to fight. It doesn’t escape them that this is an investment that requires results. More time off means they’re expected to come back polished like new, shoving the memory of Johnny getting shot into a corner and compartmentalizing. Christ, that’s dark, even for him.

“Fine.” Kate hums. “She’ll be there at 0800 tomorrow. If you want to be a good host, I’d make sure the barracks are ready by tonight.” John murmurs his goodbye and wonders how the hell he’s supposed to get his team to report for duty tomorrow.

-

“Sir.” Heart machines beep in the background on Simon’s side of the call. John slides a hand down his desk, tracing the wood grain as he imagines the phantom pain the man is going through. “How’s Soap?” He can hear a ruffling of fabric, like Simon’s masked head is turning to confirm Johnny exists before replying. “They’re sayin’ it was a graze but the shock waves caused more damage.” Right. The image John sees every night, that of a gaping wound in Johnny’s head, is not actually true. The bullet only grazed, due to the reflexes of his sergeant, but all the blood at the scene made it look much worse. Doctors didn’t even need to do surgery, just a worrying amount of tests and shock at Johnny’s ability to survive. John knows all this information of course, but he also knows Simon needs to keep saying it to remind himself that it’s true.

“He starts therapy in a week.” John replies. Simon grunts. This timeline was suggested by the doctors but John has now confirmed it, something he knows Simon hates. “When he starts, you’re expected back on base.” Simon does not sputter. He’s not built for it. However, John knows the man enough to hear the instinct of doing so in the back of the man’s throat. When Simon doesn’t hang up, John continues. “We’re not gettin’ shipped out for a while. As long as you’re on base durin’ the day, I don’t care where you’re sleepin’. The PT facility is only a 15 minute drive from base.” Translation: I don’t care that you’re sleeping with Johnny. The biggest concession John can make without acknowledging it, something he knows Simon will hate. The speaker crackles, Simon muffling it with a gloved hand. He can imagine the man turning to Johnny, the two conversing in that language only they know. Finally, the speaker becomes clear. “See you in seven days, sir.” John says goodbye and the line cuts.

He dials Gaz next. Although the call connects instantly, he imagines the signal traversing north to Lancashire, where Gaz decided to take off after they were all given personal leave. His family home, not his usual flat in London. A choice John would make as well, if he had a family home to go back to. Not a tragedy like Simon but simply…unattached. His parents died from old age a few years ago and he was the only child of two only children. He’d gone back to his own London flat, but memories of his men playing poker in his living room, Johnny laughing and happy, had been too haunting.

“Sir?” Gaz greets him apprehensively. “Alrigh’, Gaz?” The man pauses, the check-in catching him off-guard. John mentally notes that’s a reaction he doesn’t want in the future. Something to bring up at this godforsaken team bonding experience. “Yessir.” He keeps going when John doesn’t say anything, trying to drag a response out of the sergeant. “Bit of rest and relaxation. Been checkin’ in with Soap when Ghost picks up his phone.” John hums, eyes flicking back to the team bonding itinerary in front of him. “Rest’s over, Gaz. There’s a flight for you at your old airfield. It’ll take off in four hours, 0800 sharp.” Four hours, the most he could give Gaz for some goodbyes, a sorely needed morale boost for the next few months. “Thank you, sir. See you soon.” For the second time today, John hangs up on a call he didn’t want to make.

The rest of the day passes in a haze of paperwork. John scrounges up a pre-wrapped sandwich from mess and eats it with two-fingers of whiskey. A feast fit for a king. Sleep overtakes him in fits and starts, a reminder that he needs a clear mind for tomorrow is the only reason he forces himself to slow his breathing and give in.

-

Gaz arrived late last night. They watch a helicopter land at exactly 0805, wind whipping around their jackets as they squint in the morning sun. Their hats do almost nothing to block it. A few familiar faces hop off, men who tagged along in the flight from the Manchester base back to London. It’s only after they clear the area that you emerge.

Standard base gear with a black hoodie thrown over your t-shirt to wear off the morning chill. You’ve got sunglasses on, blocking the glare that’s sent John squinting. It’s only when you pull them off your face and into the crown of your hair does John realize who he’s looking at.

It’s been ten years since he saw his ex-wife. He did not expect a reunion on a spring Tuesday morning.

John’s well-trained enough to swear in a low tone that doesn’t catch Gaz’s ears. The man has a sunny smile on his face, his hand stuck out for a handshake. “You must be Kyle Garrick.” You say, stopping in front of the men as you shake Gaz’s hand firmly. “Got our files memorized already, Doc?” You laugh, a sharp, tinkling sound that sends an almost-shiver down John’s spine. “No,” you pause to look John up and down, “call it process of elimination.” You don’t bother to shake his hand. Instead, you wait until your eyes catch and nod, like you are cordial colleagues. Like you weren’t his wife once upon a time (it was only a year, his brain whispers). John tips his hat and turns to lead you back to the isolation barracks. In the background, he can hear Gaz recovering well, asking questions about the flight and how you know Kate.

John gives a half-hearted tour, a hard feat to complete when he refuses to meet your eyes. There’s mainly a lot of gesturing and grumbling about how this won’t be a spot to frequent since you’re getting moved to the other barracks. John feels out of character, particularly moody on what was supposed to be a new start of a day. Instead, you, the woman he hasn’t thought about for years (well, maybe a little bit), is at his heels, expected to be his new boss.

The walk to the barracks takes half an hour. Gaz offered to take your bag and now he’s paying for it, his shoulder slumping as he carries the pile of bricks. If John still knew you, he would guess there’s a few of your well-worn books in there. But he doesn’t (know you, that is), so he pretends his sergeant needs to up his bicep routine. How should he kill Kate Laswell? Maybe not answer her calls until she shows up at base so he can get the drop on her. Or show up on her vow renewal vacation and dress her down in front of her wife. All terrible ideas, spun to distract him from the fact that you are hiking a grassy hill a meter behind him, about to enter your new cohabitated home for the next two months. And share a bathroom.

“Christ, Captain, they couldn’tve given it a new paint job?” The gray paint outside the building is flaking, but at least it’s updated inside. John guides them in, pointing out room assignments. You pass by him in a whiff of a new perfume scent he hasn’t smelled and silent outrage, a deadly combination. “Fancy a tea, sir?” John’s about to shake his head until he remembers. He rounds the hallway of bedrooms into the small kitchen, where empty shelves sit. “Looks like we need a restock, Sergeant.” Gaz sighs. John fishes out the new Visa Laswell sent over as part of their ‘bonding budget’. “Don’t steal from mess, go to the store.” It’s at least an hour trip to the parking lot, the shops, and back. Enough time for an argument with his ex-wife, hopefully. Gaz looks a little dazed at the sudden power in his hands. “How much can I buy, sir?” Ghost may love his tea but Gaz is obsessed with candy, always trying a new kind whenever they’re deployed. Somehow, the kid still has perfect teeth. Also, John is still mad at Laswell. “Whatever catches your eye, Sergeant.” He’s gone in a flash, the front door banging on the way out as he yells ‘thank you, sir’ over his shoulder. John sighs.

He finds you in your bedroom, predictably pulling out books from your go-bag. Your shoulders tense when he purposefully stomps up to your doorframe, waiting. You speak at the same time.

“Look, I didn’t know-”

“I don’t know what Laswell told you but-”

You stop at the same time as well, glaring at each other from opposite sides of the room. He gestures at you to go first, a gentleman move that has you rolling your eyes. “I didn’t know it was your team. I owed Laswell a favor and didn’t have anything on my docket, so when she said she needed me to piece some men back together, I volunteered for the challenge.” He takes you in as you talk. The confidence in your squared shoulders is new, no longer faked. Your hairstyle is different as is your makeup, a fact that shouldn’t surprise him. The only thing that stays the same is the bracelet at your wrist, a slim sentimental piece of metal. 

“That what you do now? Piece men back together?” You shrug, turning away from him to unpack. “You know I was never meant to be a regular field doctor. I’ve got both my security clearance and psychiatry background - it’s a unique combination. I get to pick my cases without a lot of paperwork and without worrying whose war I’m fighting. I like what I do.” The message is clear. You are morally above John and you’re proud of it, a fact he sees in your now-relaxed shoulders. You stack books near your bedside, then toss a bag of toiletries on the freshly-made bed. Turning back around to face him, you cross your arms and raise your eyebrows. At least your frustrated look hasn’t changed.

“We gonna have a problem, John? I thought you were a Captain, all professional.” He edges closer into the room, crossing some invisible barrier. “No problem. I’m capable of burying a decade-old history.” You huff, tilting your chin to meet his eyes. It’s you and him for a second, staring. Not reminiscing but remembering. The ghosts of your past fights, long dead and forgotten, are suddenly brought back to life with one blink. Meeting when you were both young and dumb, a whirlwind engagement, an angst-filled marriage. The whole process of it is a two-year blip in his memory from nearly ten years ago. No prenup but no shared assets either, everything you both were and are belonging to the military. Like knocking two dolls together and being disappointed when nothing forms between them.

He only thinks about your marriage when he’s drunk. Drunk and alone. Drunk and with a pretty thing under him, only to blink and remember what you felt like.

Other than that, he doesn’t think about his failed marriage.

John sticks his hand out and you take it. Miraculously, your hand is not as callused as his and he wants to ask why, how you don’t bear the scars of sewing soldiers back together, occasionally pricking your own thumb and watching it bleed. The moment is gone when you let go.

-

a few things

i will not be doing a taglist, they stress me out

this has been in my drafts for weeks, i have one more chapter written but don't expect timely updates

this is mainly going to be fast-burn bc they have a history and i get impatient if there's no smut

no clue how long this is going to be but pls enjoy!

tag: fic: formerly mrs. price

[pinkboaclub]

Musician Ex-Boyfriend

Summery: You and Harry are exes, on the day of your wedding, he pays you a visit, causing you to rethink things.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: smut, cheating (not on Harry), fem!reader

"You look perfect."

You turned at the sound of his voice, and there he stood—Harry, in a sharp black, the sincerity on his face was palpable.

It was your wedding day, but not the one you’d envisioned. The love of your life wasn’t the man currently getting ready. No, he was standing in the doorway, on the verge of being caught.

You’d snuck away to collect yourself. You’d told your bridesmaids all day that you were close to tears from happiness, but that wasn’t the truth. It was fear, anxiety, regret—things you’d spent months ignoring, burying under a carefully constructed smile.

You quickly scanned the open room, making sure no one could see him.

“You can’t be here,” you said, your voice tight with urgency as you strode over to him, heels clicking sharply against the hardwood. “If someone sees you, they’ll start talking, they’ll—”

Before you could finish, Harry grabbed your arm, pulling you into the empty hallway. His hands found your waist, pulling you into him, his warmth and familiar scent filling your senses. You glanced over your shoulder, your heart racing as you checked again. No one was around.

"Harry, please," you whispered, trying to steady your breath, feeling the sting of tears rise again. "This isn’t right."

"I didn’t think you would go through with it." His voice was flat, emotionless, his eyes avoiding yours.

You swallowed, the weight of his words sinking in. You had met Harry when you were both 25. It was supposed to be casual—two people who shared a love for music, books, and movies. He’d been on tour with his band, and you’d happened to be in the same restaurant with friends when they all decided to head to a club. That’s where you two started talking, the connection immediate, as if you’d known each other forever.

The texts started right after, every day, just a few words at first, then entire conversations that lasted into the early hours of the morning. His tour ended, and soon enough, long-distance visits turned into real dates. Three years of love, laughter, and dreams of a future together. A future that seemed so certain until life, with all its complexity and distance, pulled you apart.

It wasn’t sudden. It was gradual—the small, constant strain that turned into arguments about who was too busy, who wasn’t putting in enough effort. And then, finally, the break-up. The day you sat on the couch in your shared home, too many unsaid words filling the air, the silence louder than anything you could say.

“I love you so much and I don’t think I’ll ever stop,” Harry had sobbed, turning toward you with pleading eyes. You didn’t answer, unable to speak through your own tears.

You didn’t even know how it had happened, but you went from sitting on your couch crying, to laying on the couch, kissing with drying tears on your cheeks, ripping each other's clothes off. Maybe it was a last resort to salvage something, maybe it was an intense goodbye, you never really knew.

After that, you stayed friends. You kept up the pretense for everyone else. Friends, family—they all still thought you’d get back together. Harry even brought it up a few times, and you’d feel that pull, that ache in your chest. Of course, you thought about it. How could you not? But the idea of losing him again, of having to grieve the loss for a second time, felt unbearable.

And yet, here he was, on the most important day of your life, not as the man you were about to marry, but as the man you once thought you’d spend forever with.

“I have to,” you said, your voice a little softer this time. “I have to marry him.”

“Why?” Harry’s voice cracked, his frustration palpable. “Why him? Why do you need to? Nobody believes you actually want this.” His eyes searched yours, desperate, pleading for something.

You didn’t have an answer that would make sense to him—or to yourself. All you knew was that your future, the one you’d once pictured with Harry, had slipped away, and now the only choice left was the one that terrified you the most.

You stood there, caught between two worlds—two versions of yourself, each one tugging you in a different direction. Harry’s eyes stared into yours, demanding something you couldn’t give. You wished you could explain it all to him, but the words were stuck in your throat.

“I do want this,” you said, though you weren’t sure if you believed it. “But... I don’t know how to explain it. I’ve tried to move on. I’ve tried to do the right thing, and I’ve convinced myself it’s what I want. But—” You stopped yourself before the tears could fall. “I don’t know what else to do.”

Harry’s hands were still around you, his grip tight, like he was trying to pull you into a reality where the two of you could make it work. But it wasn’t that simple. You’d both changed, grown in ways that made that dream of forever feel distant, impossible.

“I just wanted you to know,” Harry’s voice softened. “That I never stopped loving you. I never stopped hoping… I didn’t think you would go through with this. Not like this.”

Your chest tightened at the words. They hit harder than you anticipated. “I know,” you whispered. “I didn’t think I could either. But… I need to. For me.”

“For him, you mean,” Harry corrected, his tone heavy with something you couldn’t quite place. Hurt? Anger? Maybe both. But there was a quiet desperation in his voice that made it hard to breathe.

You hesitated. “He’s a good man. And I do love him. I do. But it’s not... the same.”

Harry’s jaw clenched at your words, but he didn’t pull away. He just stared at you, his eyes dark, like they were holding back everything he wanted to say.

“You’re lying to yourself,” he said softly, almost too quietly for you to hear. “You’re pretending because it’s easier than facing the truth. You know it’s not right. But you’re too scared to admit it.”

The weight of his words made your heart skip a beat. You shook your head, trying to dismiss the gnawing feeling in your gut, the one that told you he was right.

“I’m not scared,” you said, but the words felt hollow. “I’m just trying to do the right thing.”

Harry took a step closer, his voice urgent now, low and rough. “What if the right thing isn’t what you’ve convinced yourself it is? What if you’re meant to be with me?”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, it was like time stopped. His presence enveloped you—the same pull you’d felt all those years ago, that same undeniable chemistry that had made you fall in love with him in the first place. But now, everything is different.

“I can’t,” you said, more to yourself than to him. “I can’t go through that again, Harry. I can’t lose you and have to pick up the pieces of me after. I don’t think I’d survive it a second time.”

“I’d never hurt you again,” he promised, his voice cracking with emotion. “I swear. I’d never let you go, not like I did before. Please, just—just think about it. Really think about what you’re about to do.”

The silence stretched between you two, heavy with everything that had been left unsaid.

Finally, you spoke, your voice trembling. “I can’t do this right now, Harry. Not today. Not when I’m about to be married, something I’ve promised to commit to. Please… just go.”

His face fell, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he stepped back, looking at you one last time, his expression full of pain and love and the remnants of hope.

“Okay,” he whispered. “But I’ll always be here, waiting for you. No matter what.”

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the hallway, the echo of his footsteps still ringing in your ears.

You stood there for what felt like an eternity, your mind spinning with everything Harry had just said. His words—his love, his pain—still hung in the air, refusing to dissipate.

But you had made a promise. To him, to yourself, and to the man you were about to marry. You had to keep moving forward, even if it felt like you were walking into the unknown.

You wiped the tears from your eyes, taking a deep breath as you turned to face the door at the end of the hall. The moment was passing, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that, somehow, it wasn’t over. Not yet.

The sharp click of another pair of heels echoed from the other end of the hall, and you barely registered it before Aaliyah rounded the corner, her expression a mixture of relief and concern.

“There you are! I was starting to think I’d lost you for good! I-what’s wrong?” She halted in her tracks, eyes scanning your face, a frown forming as she looked at the tear stains streaking down your cheeks.

You quickly wiped your face, not caring that your makeup was surely ruined. "I—uhm," you faltered, struggling to find the words. "I’m just... nervous."

You almost told her everything. You wanted to. Aaliyah had been there for you through all of it—through the endless debates over whether or not you should try again with Harry. She knew the truth. She’d always known. But today wasn’t the day for honesty. Today was for pretending, for keeping the peace, for stepping into the life you thought you’d chosen.

“Oh, I know it’s stressful, but it’ll all be okay!” Aaliyah said, wrapping her arms around you in a comforting hug. You leaned into her warmth, her helping for only a moment. "I think I just need a little more time alone. To clear my head. Maybe go up to my room for a bit, have some water, a snack, you know?"

She hesitated for a split second, her eyes lingering on you as if she could see right through your smile, but she nodded, understanding your need for space. “Alright, I’ll stay down here. Just… don’t stay away too long, okay?”

“Promise,” you said, offering a small smile as you hugged her back, then hurried past her, your heels clicking against the floor as you made your way toward the elevator.

You had rented a hotel suite for the bridal party to get ready, a place where you could unwind and prepare. Your fiancée had his own room, staying with his groomsmen, where they were now. You had also reserved a hotel room for you and your fiancé to stay in before your honey moon in two days… so, now you had a free room to be alone in—well, almost alone.

As soon as you stepped into the room, you closed the door behind you with a soft click. You slowly slipped off the silk robe you’d been wearing, the one that said “Bride” in sparkling letters across your back, and traded it for the simple hotel robe draped on the back of the bathroom door.

Then you pulled out your phone, scrolling far down your contacts. Your thumb hesitated for just a second before you started typing.

“If you’re still in the hotel, I’m on floor 4, room 415. If you meant what you said, I’ll be here, waiting.”

A sharp knock at the door made you jump. Your heart pounded in your chest as you forced your legs to move toward it, each step heavy and unsteady. When you opened the door, there he stood, his brow furrowed with concern.

"I can't marry him," you murmured, barely audible. The weight of the words broke something inside you, and tears began to spill down your cheeks.

Without hesitation, Harry stepped forward, pulling you into his arms. He closed the door softly behind him, the world outside suddenly fading away. You clung to him, your sobs muffled against his shoulder, as if his presence was the only thing keeping you in reality.

When you finally pulled away, your eyes locked, searching for the words you had meant to say. But they escaped you. Instead, with a sudden, desperate impulse, you pressed your lips to his. The kiss was everything you’d missed, everything you’d been longing for—and it felt like home.

"I am scared by how much I want this, how much I want you." You finally said after you pulled away from your kiss. Harry tucked your hair behind your ear, taking a moment to admire your features before speaking.

“I don’t want you to be scared of me…of us…because I know-I know it would work this time. Were not as young, we know how to balance our schedules, and we know what it’s like to not be with each other. I love you so much Y/N”

Before you could cry anymore, you caved in to everything you knew you wanted. You kissed him again, this time leading him to the hotel bed.

"I am devoted to you," He murmurs as he unties your robe, his eyes not leaving your face. You both lay back. He watches the way your eyes widen when he moves one hand between your thighs to tenderly touch your core. "Let me please you," He knows he sounds needy, but he can't help it as he looks upon the woman he would do anything for.

“Please do.”

He took his eyes from your face and let them travel down your body, this was the first time he had seen you like this since you had broken up. He took in every inch of you, your beautiful bra-clad breasts, your rapidly moving stomach as you breathed. Then, your legs. Your left leg had a white lace garter belt on it. His hand slowly traveled up until he got to the garter belt.

“Supposed to be a tradition…a very odd one.” You broke the silence.

“I’m not complaining.”

He slowly pulled off the belt, your underwear following it.

He moves forward and leaves a trail of kisses along the soft skin of your abdomen and then down over your quivering thighs as his hand moves between your legs, letting his finger slip into you.

After watching the first drop of your arousal slide down his index finger, he had enough. He pulls his hand back and grips your thighs to keep you still while his mouth devours you.

Your soft little moans and attempts at saying his name make him grip you tighter, using his tongue in even more intricate ways just to coax out more of your sweetness, more of your angelic sounds. He squeezes one of your thighs and then slides his hand up along your side until his hand finds yours. He twines your fingers together, and then he gets back to devouring you like he was starving.

"I need more, Harry, please," You beg so prettily that he considers asking you to do so again, but he feels like it would be cruel after you’ve been so patient.

"Of course,"

He kisses you deeply to drown the pained whimper when he pushes his cock inside you without a pause, thinking it’s best if he gets the painful part over with as fast as possible. He grunts against your mouth as your nails dig into his shoulders. He stays still and kisses away your tears until you start laughing beneath him.

You’re the one who indicates that he is allowed to move by grinding your hips up against his. He hums in understanding and starts to thrust into you again. You too get lost as he find a perfect rhythm.

He flips you over with one quick motion after he has watched your breasts bounce for too many agonising moments without being able to do anything with them, his mouth becomes focused on them, finding the spots that make you cry out his name as loudly as you could.

“Fuck, baby.” He says, admiring your body continuously bouncing up and down. You move quicker at his encouraging words, riding him faster than you thought you could.

He takes one of your breasts in his mouth, twisting his tongue around your nipple, kneading the other with his hand.

You rock your hips back and forth, feeling the familiar surge of warmth spread through your body like—the same warmth he could only give you, one that was 10x stronger than your fiancé could have ever given you.

Your orgasm soon followed. You didn’t care about how loud you were. You didn’t care if someone walked in right now, you’d almost prefer it, maybe it would be your fiancé, or someone you both knew, they would tell him you snuck up to your room to ride the musician ex boyfriend, then you wouldn’t have to do it yourself.

“I-fuck Harry, it’s…” You stop, letting yourself moan from the euphoria you’re feeling. “It’s so good.” You finally spit out.

He chuckles at your inability to properly express your blissful feelings and tangles his fingers in your hair to pull you down for a deep kiss. He lets out a low groan as your fingers dig into his chest, followed by the shuddering of your body and the clenching of your walls around him that prompt him to spill his cum inside you.

"Fuck," he mutters as he tears his mouth away from yours. He knows neither of you should have done that, however, as Harry looks up at your blissed expression, he does not regret it, not one bit.

His arms wrap around your torso, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. He lightly rubbed his fingers up and down your back. The only thing that could be heard in the room was your heavy breathing.

“I love you, Harry.”

[jjsloverre]

my love- j.m

bsf!jj x sweetheart!reader

in which… bsf!jj runs to you when him and his dad get into another physical fight. (not proofread)

warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of blood, mentions of bruises, mentions of cuts, mentions of fighting

________________________________________

“mama.. please pick up the phone i need you.. please princess i need you..!” jj screamed through the phone. you finally picked up his frantic calls with your sleepy voice. “hi jayj, what’s up?”

you could hear his dad screaming at him and things breaking in the background. you instantly shot up, realizing what the call might be for. you put some sweatpants on with a random shirt you took from jj’s closet. “jj? listen to me what’s going on?”

he whimpered through the phone call. “m-my dad.. fuck baby my dad.. it’s bad- it’s bad this time.. please- come get me?” you didn’t need to be told twice. you snuck out your window and walked to jj’s house. “stay on the phone okay? i’m coming.”

“okay..” he said with a shaking voice. “how about we talk about something different yeah? what do you want for dinner tonight?”

you could tell he was forcing his voice to not come out shaking. “s-some of that soup shit you make when your sick, i want something warm..” thank goodness you had the things to cook that for him tonight. “your wish is my command love bug. pot roast it is!”

“that’s what it’s called?” he asked. “yeah.”

“how far are you?”

“not far, about two minutes.”

“you walk really fast.” you giggled. “you said you needed me, why wouldn’t i be fast?”

“you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me- not that i think of you as an object but-“ you cut him off. “i know what you mean jj and it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“can you- clean me up? like the cuts and shit? i don’t wanna bleed all over your room.”

“course i can, i was gonna do that anyway. we can shower together too.”

“fuck yeah, exactly what i need… can i spend the night?” jj asked, even though he knew the answer to that question. “you were spending the night anyway jayj. now come outside, i’m here.” you say. “don’t hang up til you see me please?” jj pleaded. “alright love.”

time skip…

“jeez jj.. this is bad- what happened?” i said as i wiped all the blood that was smeared on his face. i stripped him naked as he spoke. “he found out about the money, that i spent on that dumbass hot tub. we argued, got physical and that deadbeat beat my fuckin’ brains in.”

“next time ask me for money, i don’t care about the price or nothing, i don’t want you to get hurt like this anymore okay?” he nodded as you cleaned his face. “yes ma’am. will you still get in the shower with me?”

“yeah i will. cmon.”

as we got in the shower, i let jj cry into my neck as i wash off the blood that stained his beautiful body. he was so fragile. the best friend that never deserved to get hurt. the best friend that would protect you with his life and you’d do everything to protect him from his pain.

“fuck.. it hurts so much… he almost killed me- i almost killed him…”

“shhh, none of that now okay? let’s get you into bed, and i’ll bring you a bowl of pot roast. turn the tv on and watch something.” he nodded and stepped out the shower. i gave him some clothes that he usually leaves over just in case something like this happens.

“here you go, i’ll be right back.” he got up to give me a quick kiss to my lips. “what was that for?” i asked surprised, but not complaining- not at all whatsoever. “just want to, i dunno thank you for coming to get me and taking care of me.. i love you for this.”

“no need to thank me, and i love you too.” you walk out the room with two bowls, you come back up to your room and hand him a bowl. “here you go! i have some water up here for us too.”

he cuddled into your chest as you both ate. once he devoured his bowl, you set it down on the dresser and look at him, really look at your best friend, he was so precious, like an angel.

“can i kiss you?” he asked softly. “yeah you can.” with that, we shared a deep passionate kiss. “i love you mama- i love you so fuckin’ much..” you both finally break the kiss. “i love you too, cmon lay down.” he laid down on your chest, rubbing your stomach until you also fell asleep. “goodnight jayj.”

“goodnight my beautiful best friend.”

________________________________________

-a/n: idc i LOVEDDDD writing this, also 2 fics one day? hell yea !

more bsf!jj x sweetheart!reader here

taglist: @sturniologirlzz @sturns-mermaid @sophand4n4 @aaliyahsturniolo @ethanthequeefqueen

[froggiewrites]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Pairing: Sanji x Reader

SFW

Summary: You spend the night crying into your drinks about how much you want Sanji, and how much it hurts he's in love with someone else. Sanji spends the night crying about much the same. Your friends get sick of it, and decide to help the idiots realize what everyone else already knows. Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Misunderstandings, Sanji and Reader both being idiots Word Count: 4.1k

You are going to get drunk tonight. Plastered, even.

Another day, another victory, another adventure spent staring longingly at Sanji when you were sure he wasn’t looking. You could usually handle the embarrassment of acting like a lovesick puppy for a man you knew didn’t feel the same, but something about today really set you off. Maybe it was the way he so sweetly called Nami’s name when you all reunited, or the way he so carefully prepared Robin her favorite drinks, or some other transgression you can’t quite remember. You don’t know exactly what it was, but you know you’re irritated and hurt and a little heartbroken, and there’s about a half a dozen drinks with your name on them behind the bar.

The tavern is lively and loud, and the rest of the crew is clearly having a good time. Your eyes briefly linger on Sanji at the bar, but you try to force your eyes away. No point in lingering here, yearning for something you can’t have. You instead make your way to the back of the room, wedging yourself between Zoro and Robin, who seem to be drinking in silence together.

You had intended on sharing in the peaceful silence, broken only by some quiet comments and gentle chuckles, but three drinks in you can see them side-eyeing you, brows furrowed.

“What?” Your voice comes out harsher than you meant it to, but you’re a bit too drunk to care.

“Just surprised you’re drinking so much, is all. You normally pace yourself more than this.” Robin’s voice is quiet and controlled, as though she’s just making a passive observation, but you know your friends and you know she is deeply worried about you.

“I had a bad day.”

“Really? You seemed fine earlier.” Zoro sounds genuinely surprised. Robin shoots him a look you can’t read, and he quickly shuts his mouth.

“Does this have anything to do with a certain someone?” Her voice is kind, so kind, but it makes you clench your jaw anyway.

“No.”

Silence.

“Maybe.”

Zoro mutters, “Oh, god damnit,” before taking another stiff pull of his drink.

“What happened, exactly? You both seemed perfectly friendly this morning.”

“I don’t…know. Everything was fine until it wasn’t, and now I’m all twisted into knots and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Well maybe you can start by telling us how you feel, and we can try to help you unravel all of this.”

“We?”

You both ignore Zoro’s confusion and indignation. “Maybe…if you think it will help.” You close your eyes, grounding yourself, and focusing wholly inward. “I just think I’m…tired of wanting things I can’t have. It’s really hard to be on a ship full of people living their dreams, fighting for everything they desire, and I’m here, feeling like I have to constantly hold so tight I feel like my fingers will break or else it’ll all slip through my fingers.”

“And do you feel like you’re holding onto Sanji?”

“Not just him, I guess. To everything. To all of you. But I’m trying to let myself believe that all of this is what I want, and that it’s going to be forever, and then I see him smile at someone else and the illusion just…shatters. I’m not happy. And I know damn well it won’t last forever. I feel like I’m stuck waiting for an inevitable ending that I’ll never be satisfied with. Right now, I’m in limbo, and I can keep pretending that it doesn’t hurt, but every time I think about how hopeless I feel with him it kind of reminds me of how hopeless it all is.”

You put your head in your hands for a moment, taking a deep breath. “And it’s not only about him, right? It’s just kind of a general dissatisfaction with where I am compared to you guys. But I would be lying if I said it wasn’t more about Sanji than it isn’t. He’s both, like, a symbol of it and the source of it. He’s the thing I want most, and he’s the thing I know I’m never going to have.”

“Why do you think you’ll never have him?”

“Because he’s in love with Nami.” You say it like it’s obvious.

Zoro is glaring at his drink, still wondering how he got roped into this conversation and praying you stop, while Robin gives you a gentle look resembling sympathy. There's something behind her eyes though, something you can't read, that makes you feel a bit uneasy.

"It's one thing, to have your love unrequited. For the man you're in love with to be hopelessly smitten with someone else. But god, it's another for him to be right."

"Right?" Robin's voice doesn't betray anything as she keeps her tone to a careful academic neutrality.

"It's just...she is that wonderful. I can't be upset about it because I can't blame either of them. She's beautiful and kind and capable and he's...well. He's everything. It just makes sense. It's somehow harder not to be bitter because I really don't have anything to be bitter about, if that makes sense."

"It would make sense if anything you said was true." Zoro's voice is gruff,  and you look to him in surprise, only to find his expression mirroring your own, as though he can't believe he opened his mouth. "He sucks, and she's great and all but she's no angel. And they aren't in love anyway so I don't understand what the problem even is." You think he's trying to help. Sweet, if ineffective.

"He's in love with her. He has been since the day they met. You know that, you were there."

"That isn't love. He's just a horny idiot."

"He's not an idiot." You hate how defensive your tone gets, how pathetic it makes you feel. You hate even more that Zoro and Robin both look at you with undisguised pity.

"I think what Zoro is trying to say is that you seem to think his feelings for Nami go a lot deeper than they do. They're just friends. He just speaks to all women like that."

"Not me."

You all hate the silence that follows.

"He hits on you too." Zoro's voice is a little weaker than before, knowing his argument isn't exactly rock solid. He's kind to you, complimentary, but he's never rushed into battle alone to save you. He's never ridden in on a blazing white steed for you, not like he has Robin or Nami. And sure, you've never been kidnapped like them, but it's hard not to feel the difference when Mr Prince himself has never played his part with you. He's kind to you, so very kind, but he's kind to everyone. That's just who he is.

“You know it isn’t the same, Zoro. It’s always Nami first. It always has been. He talks to me the same way he would any woman. Less than that, even.” You start tearing up despite yourself, and you hope your friends will blame your fragility on your drink and not your tender heart. “He just…he doesn’t look at me like that. He doesn’t fall at my feet, and it’s not like I want him to but…” You break into a quiet sob, and Robin’s hand comes to your shoulder, rubbing calming circles there.

Zoro leans in a bit, clearly a little uncomfortable but worried and kind nonetheless. “That stupid cook cares about you a lot more than any stranger on the street, and I think you know that. He’s just an idiot.” You look up at him, confused, and Zoro tries not to let out an annoyed sigh at your obliviousness. It isn’t entirely your fault. Who could blame you for thinking what you did? It’s not like Sanji helped with that. He didn’t give you the dramatic love confessions he did Nami or Robin. Nami had asked him once why he sang your praises differently than he did theirs, and he had insisted that he would give you only the grandest speeches, once he had prepared words worthy of you. The rest of the crew quickly figured out what he really meant: he was too nervous to say such a thing when he really meant it.  He would instead tuck his love into the food and drinks he served you, into the jacket he placed over your shoulders when you were cold, into the gentle smiles he gave you when you weren’t looking. Everyone had agreed not to push him before he was ready, to let you both find your way to each other naturally, but it was becoming apparent this was the wrong move.

You keep crying into your glass, and Zoro sighs. You’re both ridiculous. What a pair.

Across the bar, Usopp lets out his fiftieth sigh of the night. He has no idea how he got roped into this. Sanji is somewhere between sorrow and rage, buried in a pile of empty glasses that reek of beer. He's been going on for at least fifteen minutes now, and if Usopp had even slightly less of a conscience he'd leave him here to wallow, considering his problem is entirely self-inflicted. But unfortunately, Usopp is a great friend, so instead he bravely sits on this barstool, a listening ear to make sure Sanji's drowning his troubles doesn't end in Sanji himself drowning after he stumbles his way home alone.

"It's not right." Sanji's voice is shaky with emotion, even with his words slurred.

Usopp sighs, pretending he hasn't heard this exact line of conversation three times tonight. "What's not right, buddy?"

"He doesn't...he doesn't deserve her. He isn't good enough for her. That stupid swordsman...what does she see in him?" He takes another swig of his drink, letting out a deep sigh and dropping his shoulders. "He's just...he's not even nice to her. Not like he should be."

"He's being nice to her right now." Usopp motions over to where you're having your own pity party, one Zoro seems to have become an unwilling guest of. Robin is patting your shoulder in sympathy, while Zoro leans closer to say something to you, care and concern obvious on his face to those who knew him.

"But he should worship her. Everyone should. She's...she's..." Sanji drunkenly trails off.

"An angel?"

"A goddess." Despite the glaze over his eyes, his conviction shines though, granting him a focus he hasn't had all night as he gazes at her. "Someone to be cherished, protected, adored. He doesn't adore her. He should be on his knees right now begging for her attention, and he's just...talking to her. Like he would anybody."

"Probably because they're friends."

"But look at her. She clearly wants more than that. She should get whatever she wants. On a silver platter." Sanji really emphasizes that last part, lips pouting and brow tightening. Usopp looks over again to see you about to cry into your drink, leaning further into Robin. You aren't even looking at Zoro right now, but Sanji is still burning with envy. Usopp would love to set him straight, tell him that anyone with eyes could see who's attention you really wanted, but he knows you'd kill him, and he quite likes being alive. Sanji's so filled with malice and self loathing right now that he probably wouldn't even believe him, anyway. For a man so delusional about love, he somehow can’t see it when it’s right in front of him.

“I think you’re a little lost here, Sanji. She’s not in love with Zoro. She’s just drunk and sad. Reminds me of someone else I know.” He keeps that last part under his breath, and Sanji is drunk enough not to have heard it. Instead he frowns, taking another swig of his drink before trying to stand and falling directly into the counter. Your head pops up across the room, eyes wide and concerned, ready to leap to Sanji’s rescue. It’s amazing how blind that man must be to not see how obsessed with him you are. Usopp waves you off before hooking his hands under Sanji’s armpits and hauling him up. “Time to go, loverboy. You’ve had enough.”

“But she needs me!” Sanji struggles, but he’s so drunk he can’t properly utilize his strength. Lucky, or he’d already be halfway across the room to make an ass of himself. Usopp notices a small trickle of blood on his forehead from where he made contact with the bar.

“She’s fine, I promise. But you need to take a trip to see Chopper.”

“I need to help her! I can’t leave a lady in distress!”

“The lady will be in a lot more distress if she sees you’re hurt, Sanji! So get moving!” Usopp starts dragging him unceremoniously from the tavern, praying Franky will still be awake when he gets back to the ship to help him maneuver Sanji into his cot. Sanji passes out about halfway back to the Sunny, mercifully. Usopp hopes Robin and Zoro are having a better time with their other drunken crewmate.

You wake up with a pounding headache and the worst case of dry-mouth you’ve ever experienced. Your eyes just barely crack open, letting in a blinding ray of light, and you let out a small groan of pain. There’s a large glass of water by your bedside and some pills, as well as a small note from Chopper telling you to meet him in the infirmary once you feel up to walking. You chug the water and take your medicine gladly, touched by the sweet gesture. Your crew takes such good care of you.

It takes a while for the medicine to kick in enough for the light to stop hurting, but eventually you’re able to stand. You can’t remember the latter half of last night, your last memory being Sanji slamming his head into the counter while Robin and Zoro held you back from running to him. Zoro had supplied you with another drink then, and Robin had asked you more probing questions, but you could not for the life of you remember any other specifics. You make your way to Chopper’s infirmary so lost in thought you didn’t notice the mischievous looks in the eyes of your crewmates, the way their gazes subtly followed you as you walked.

“Chopper?” Your voice is still a little hoarse from having cried your heart out last night. You slip through the door, expecting to find your dear doctor ready to fuss over you and scold you for overdoing it last night. Instead you find Sanji face first in a bed, a small bandage wrapped around his head. Before you can ask if he’s alright, or if he knows where Chopper is, you hear it.

Click.

Your eyes widen. Your hand reaches for the doorknob, ready to turn it, and you find it doesn’t budge.

“What the fuck?”

Sanji groans again, slowly and carefully sitting up, before looking over at you. “What are you doing here, darling?” He looks at your hand, up at your expression, then back down to the doorknob. “Why…why is the doorknob backwards?”

Instead of the lock being where it should be, you find the keyhole on the inside of the door. There’s slight scratches around the nails holding it and place, and you realize someone has turned it around. There’s a quiet murmur of voices on the other side of the door, which turns to a yelp when you punch the wood. “What the hell is this?”

“We’re helping!” Nami’s voice rings out confidently from the other side, and you hear a few noises of agreement.

“With what, exactly?” You have a horrible sinking feeling you know exactly what they’re going to say, but you try to push it out of your mind, channeling the relentless optimism of your captain.

“We’re tired of you two being idiots!” Zoro’s voice is annoyed and unfriendly, but after a moment it slightly softens. “Just…talk to each other. Like people. For once in your lives.”

You don’t know why, but something about that makes Sanji’s brow twitch in annoyance. “Let us out, mosshead! I knew you were awful but I can’t believe you’d trap a lady!”

“It wasn’t my goddamn idea! Blame Nami!”

Sanji pauses in his yelling at that, but shockingly enough, he still seems upset instead of instantly kowtowing. He frowns, forehead wrinkling, but doesn’t say anything else.

“We aren’t letting you out until you’ve talked. We’re gonna go so you have privacy, but if you break out we’re putting you right back in, so don’t even think about just kicking down the door!” Nami’s voice is firm and commanding, and you find your shoulders slumping, knowing there’s no real point in fighting her. You’re both hungover, exhausted, and not in any state to continue the conflict. You sigh, making your way to a cot next to Sanji’s. You throw yourself down, the slight bounce you make on landing making you far more nauseous than it had any right to.

“Do you know what they want us to talk about?” Sanji sounds almost nervous, which surprises you. Does he know?

“I…have an idea. Do you?”

“I might.”

You both shift awkwardly in the silence that follows. You fidget with your hands, curling in tighter, anxiety eating at you. This is it. This is the rejection you’ve been waiting for. The final blow to shatter your fragile hopes, to crush your remaining optimism and the wonderful future you’ve allowed yourself to keep dreaming of.

“What do you see in him?” Sanji’s voice is quiet and seeping with vulnerability. His eyes are closed, as though he’s scared to even look at you and get your answer.

“What do I see in who?”

“In that stupid swordsman. Why do you care about him?”

“What?” You blink owlishly.

He finally looks up at you. He blinks back. “What do you mean, what?”

“Why are you talking to me like I’m dating Zoro?”

“Are you…not? Trying to do that?”

“No! God no! I’m–” You barely hold yourself back from saying trying to date you. “I’m not into Zoro like that. Did you think I was?”

“I–um. No?” His dour look turns sheepish, a small bit of red painting his cheeks. Adorable.

“God, Sanji. Zoro is not my type.” You both sit for a moment, before you realize something. “Were you upset because you thought I was into him?”

“He isn’t good enough for you.” He says it so matter-of-fact, like it’s an obvious truth. “No one is, but especially not him. You deserve the best, and nothing less.”

Your heart flutters a little, that little thing with feathers worming its way back into you, but you suddenly see Nami’s face in your mind and you crush it. To dream and watch it die is far worse than never dreaming at all. “That’s sweet, Sanji. But you shouldn’t say things like that. You might give someone the wrong idea.”

His head cocks to the side. “What do you mean, wrong idea? You do deserve the best. No one in the world deserves it more than you.”

“What about Nami?”

“What about Nami?”

“Does she not deserve the best? More than I do? More than anyone? Your sweet Nami-swan?” You fail to keep the bitterness out of your tone in that. Not bitterness towards her, of course, or even towards Sanji, really, just a sour taste in your mouth you can’t quite shake.

His brow furrows, lips downturned. “Well she deserves the best too, of course, but why would she deserve it more? Why wouldn’t you deserve everything you want?”

You let out a frustrated growl. “That’s what I want to know! Why not me?” You slam your hand over your mouth. God, he knows, and now he’s going to reject you, so sweetly and kindly, like he does everything, and it’s going to shatter you into a million pieces. You squeeze your eyes shut like blocking out the sight of him will undo what you’ve just done.

You don’t hear him reject you. You don’t even hear him move. You only feel warm hands on your cheeks, and you open your eyes to see Sanji right in front of you, nose to nose, and you can see reflected in his eyes something you might dare to call hope.

“Do you want it to be you?” You hear a longing in his words, see it in his eyes. You have never known Sanji as a man to want, to desire more than what he’s freely given, but in this moment it truly almost seems like he wants you.

You slowly take your hand off of your mouth. Your voice is meek, mouselike, but you force it out anyway. “Would that be okay? If I did?”

“Oh angel, it would be more than okay.” He slides impossibly closer, thighs on either side of yours, torsos pressed together, surrounding you wholly. “It is you. It has always been you. It will always be you. Is that okay?”

You want to answer him in words, something articulate that would move his heart, but instead you let out a soft squeak of surprise before grabbing his cheeks and pulling his lips to yours. They’re chapped, the dehydration from the hangover still plaguing him. He has morning breath. His movements are uncoordinated, unsteady. His goatee scratches your chin. When he opens his mouth, welcoming you further, he tastes like cigarettes and a hint of shitty beer. 

It’s the best kiss you’ve ever had.

You end up on your back, Sanji’s weight holding you down, comforting and all-consuming. His hands rest on your hips as yours tangle in his hair. You only pull back when the demand for air is too much, and even then you consider ignoring the scream of your lungs. You both pull back, chests heaving, and Sanji buries his face in your neck.

“I never thought I’d actually get to do this.” He buries his nose further into your neck, his arms sliding underneath you to pull you into a tight embrace.

“Neither did I. I kept telling myself to stop dreaming about things I couldn’t have.”

“You’ve had me from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“You’ve had me for just as long.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

You take a strained breath. “I was…I don’t deserve you. And I thought you knew that. And that you were in love with Nami. That didn’t help.”

He pulls back to look you in the eyes, his gaze boring into you. “You thought you didn’t deserve me?” He sounds absolutely baffled at the idea.

“You’re kind, talented, strong, handsome…you’re everything, Sanji. You deserve everything you want. And I didn’t think you wanted me.”

He blinks at you for a moment, before a small chuckle forces its way out of him. “That’s…that’s so ridiculous I genuinely don’t even know where to start.”

He kisses your forehead. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and everything I’m ever going to want.”

He kisses your cheeks. “I have wanted you from the moment we met, and I will want you until the day I die.”

He kisses the tip of your nose. “I have never met anyone more deserving of the world than you. And I’m not going to let anyone say otherwise. Even you. So there.”

You lean up to kiss his forehead in turn. “Well there’s nothing in this world I want more than you. Can I really have you?”

He takes one of your hands and places it over his rapidly beating heart. “You feel that? It’s all yours.” He lifts your other hand and kisses it in a deeply princely gesture that fits him perfectly.

Before you can reciprocate, the door slams open, and you hear Zoro’s disgruntled voice call out. “They’re making out! Can we be done with this now?”

Sanji whips around with even more vitriol than he usually reserves for the swordsman. “Piss off, mosshead. Can’t you see we’re busy?” The quick movement makes him sway slightly, and you’re forced to remember how horribly you’re both doing physically. If he picks a fight with Zoro right now he might end up puking all over his shoes.

“Ignore him, Sanji. We need to get some rest anyway.” You pull his face into your chest, which he gladly collapses fully into. When you run your fingers through his hair, he’s practically purring.

“Anything you say, my love.” His content smile grows wider when he hears your heart quicken at the words. Neither of you say anything else as your friends crowd the room, with their finallys and about times. Nothing in the world matters more than this right now: the feeling of each other’s warmth, the softness of each other’s skin, and the feeling of relief in both of your chests that your hopes were finally allowed to thrive.

[snowy-vee]

ALL MINE Pt.1 (E.W ff)

oblivious loser bsf! ellie williams x posesive popular bsf!fem reader

n/a: English is not my first language, any misspelling will be corrected later on, also, please feel free to leave a comment and rb!!

Pt.2 Here

Inform yourself about what's happening and how to help! FREE PALESTINE, FREE CONGO.

“Bye, girls!” you waved to the cheer team before getting into Ellie’s car, greeting her with a small ‘hi’ and a kiss on her cheek. “Why weren’t you at cheer practice? I missed you looking at me from the bleachers like a little stalker,” you giggle, grabbing her phone to put music to your liking.

“I don’t look like a stalker... Do I? I don't,” she said quietly, and you laughed again. “Anyway, I was doing a project, and I didn’t notice how late it was until you called me to pick you up.”

She started the car and began to drive home. You were both roommates in an off-campus flat, and since Ellie was the only one with a licence, it was common for her to drive you everywhere and pick you up.

You kept looking for a good playlist while ‘Too Fast’ by Sonder was playing when a notification came in. You blinked twice, thinking you might have seen something wrong, but the message from Dina saying she had a good time was still there.

“Dina was your partner for the project?”

“Yes, why? She is very nice; I wonder why I’ve never spoken to her; she’s got a good vibe.”

“Yeah, but isn’t she kind of a loser? I mean, the only interesting thing about her is that she dated Jesse.” You scoffed. The ugly look she gave you after that was enough to make you stop laughing. “I don’t mean it in a bad way! Just saying that you might not want to hang out with her that much.”

“I am a loser too; shouldn’t I be hanging out with my kind of people?”

“You’re not a loser! You just have different interests than the rest of our friends—"

“Your friends"

"My friends, whatever, you hang out with me; that gives you some status and makes you not a total loser but a partial one.”

Ellie rolled her eyes as she parked the car, grabbed her backpack from the back seat, and got out without opening your door, as she usually does. You opened your mouth a little offended and got out too.

“Els! Come on, don’t get angry. I’ll cook dinner, yeah?” You tried to apologise, but she had already locked herself in her room. You snorted, throwing your bag on your bed and then throwing yourself off too.

You and Ellie had been best friends since middle school. You came in as the new girl and soon caught the attention of many, but Ellie was the only one who made you feel comfortable in every way. You were always together and inseparable until high school, when you decided to become a cheerleader, and that’s when the distinction between you and Ellie began.

Although you tried to make time for her or integrate her into the “Populars” group, it didn’t work out, and it was obvious that it made both parties uncomfortable, so the only times you shared space together were at parties or break time. Ellie had friends, not counting the online ones, but for her, they were more like classmates, so she barely spent time with them.

It doesn’t matter; you were going to sleep and apologise in the morning—that is, until, coming out of the bathroom after taking a good shower and changing into your pyjamas, you heard giggles and voices from Ellie’s room.

Was she laughing with Dina? How was it possible that they were already at the level of making video calls? Was there something else she wasn’t telling you? No, you were best friends; you told each other everything.

“Els, I’m going to make instant ramen; do you want the chicken one or?” You opened the door without knocking first to confirm your suspicions, and yes, it was Dina on the other side of the phone. You could see her face and how her smile slowly faded. “Oh, hi, Dina.”

"Hi,” she said softly. “Well, I’m going to have dinner too; talk to you later, Ellie.”

“Yeah, okay, bye, Dina." Ellie smiled, hanging up. She woke up from her bed and nodded in your direction. “I want chicken ramen; I’ll go shower real quick.”

She was still annoyed with you; you could feel it, so that meant you had to apologise tonight.

Your cooking skills were not the best; it was strange that you touched the stove burners, mostly because Ellie did. Talking about the Queen of Rome, there she was standing in her black pyjama pants and sports bra. She was drying her short hair as she watched you cook.  

"Can I help you with something?" She asked, but you refused. You were almost done; you just needed to put the food on the plates. You left the dishes on the table in the living room. "Actually, I was planning to eat in my room today."  

"Ellie, please... I'm sorry, I shouldn't talk like that about your  friends." You started apologising by grabbing her hand and leading her to the couch. "Forgive me, yes? I hate that we're upset about something so small."  

"Ugh, I hate that I can't be mad at you for too long." You squealed with excitement, and before you knew it, you both had finished eating and were now sharing a blanket on the couch while watching a movie.   Your head was resting on her shoulder, and although it was a comfortable position, it got on your nerves that Ellie was on her phone, sending messages and giggling from time to time. It was driving you crazy.

You cleared your throat as you got off the couch. "I'm going to sleep; tomorrow will be a busy day," you said.  

"But the movie isn't over yet," Ellie protested, looking at you with those beautiful eyes of hers. For a moment, you were about to stay, but Ding! Another notification caused her to divert your attention to her phone again.  

"No, I don't want dark circles under my eyes."  

"Wait, one thing..."  

"What?"  

"Tomorrow, where was that party?" you frowned at her question, confused that she's asking about a party.  

"Uh... at the same frat house where we went for the Halloween party, why?"  

"Yes, but can you send me the address?"  

"Yes, but why? You said you didn't want to come, remember?"  

"I know, but you're going to drag me anyway, and Dina said she wanted to come, so I won't be alone."  

"You're never alone; I'm with you," you replied. Ellie raised an eyebrow as she looked at you. "Most of the time, I'm with you, Ellie!"  

"I know! I appreciate it, but... I think I want to get to know Dina more, if you know what I mean." Her cheeks began to redden, and she had a shy smile as she looked at her phone.   That made your stomach churn.

You nodded and couldn't help but let out an incredulous chuckle that went unnoticed by her. "I'll send you the location tomorrow, Els."  

"Great, you're the best; I love you."  

"Me too, get a good night's rest," you said, walking down the hallway to your room. You looked once more at Ellie before entering, still hooked on her phone.   You definitely had to get rid of Dina.  

You didn't have a problem with sharing other things, but Ellie? No way; she was yours, all yours.

[snowball-doie]

| pairing: gn!Reader x switch!Mark

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Under the desk blowjob. Edging. Overstimulation. Oblivious.... oblivious Mark..... He's more on the subby side for this one.

| wc: 3k

“How does London sound?”

You looked up from your laptop to raise a brow at your boyfriend who was sitting on the couch with you, your legs swung over his thighs while he slowly massaged your feet as he got lost in thought. That was what he spent the last hour thinking about? Really? He knew better than to ask you to go with him on trips, work or not.

When you and Mark started dating, a clear rule had been struck which stated that you could never, ever get caught dating— Not because he worried about his career, who gave a fuck about that? Mark was consumed with anxiety about you being attacked and harassed by cruel fans who felt they could say or do whatever they wanted behind the safety of their phone screens… Or worse, they would confront you in person and threaten your safety. He tried not to imagine the worst, but the possibilities seemed to be endless, and he wanted to protect you first and foremost, so the most important thing was being as careful as possible; That usually meant no public outings. You two lived together, you slept together, you ate together, but you would never be seen together.

However, the past few months had taken a turn for Mark. He disliked being away from you due to tours and comebacks, so his clinginess had grown twofold, leading to some instances which you found to be tiptoeing the line between breaking your number one rule and just Mark being a good boyfriend. You tried not to care about it too much. You were both adults making adult decisions, and you knew how to play it safely… But that didn’t stop you from wondering why the Hell Mark of all people was willing to play with fire like that. Now he was throwing out the idea of London? That was supposed to be his sponsored trip for Wimbledon. You weren’t invited. You didn’t have a plane ticket. His hotel room was only reserved for one person in a king sized suite, thanks to his sponsors. There was no room for you, and the odds of getting caught were too high.

“Can’t,” you replied.

Mark rubbed his thumbs into the arch of your left foot. “It’d be fun. We can fly first class together, stay in a nice hotel, tour the city… I don’t think I could get you into the game, but… There’s plenty of other things for us to do together.”

“Can’t.”

He tsked his tongue with frustration. “Why?”

“Too risky.”

“Not if we put the flight in your name, get you your own room in the hotel so no one would think we’re sharing a bed…” He hit a sore spot, causing you to stop typing on your laptop and put your full attention on him. “I’ll put on hats and masks while we’re walking around—”

“We can’t.”

Mark sighed. “Come on. Just once. I promise, we’ll be super, super, super careful. And if you ever get too worried, we can bail. Just say the word and we’ll go back to the hotel, no questions asked. We can stay in all day, watch movies, order room service, fuck a ton—”

You kicked his thigh gently.

“Ow!”

But with a little more persuasion and a few solidified plans about how you two would pull off your incognito trip to London, you were convinced to go with him at the last second. Mark paid for everything. Your first class flight— Somehow there was still a seat available next to him, so he snatched it up immediately, despite the insane price gouging because of how soon the flight was; Your hotel room, a small one since you wouldn’t be spending time in it anyhow, it was just for appearances; And he made sure that all other expenses were attached to his card. He truly wasn’t wasting any time locking you into the trip. He wanted you there no matter what. Stupid or not, he wanted you there so badly… If it were at all possible, maybe in some alternate universe, Mark would’ve had you at his side throughout the entire trip, no masks or hats, no more hiding from the world. But alas… that wasn’t your reality.

You and Mark had to arrive at the airport separately. The paparazzi and fans were waiting for him because he was flying for a schedule which meant that it was public information, unfortunately; But you managed to walk through check-in and security smoothly without any issues. Boarding the flight, you were able to stand next to each other, but you couldn’t be caught talking to each other. That didn’t stop Mark. At one point, as the line was moving towards the flight attendant who was scanning tickets, Mark’s pinky drifted against yours, letting you know that he was there and that he so badly wanted to hold your hand. On the flight. That was the look you gave him, a promise that he could hold your hand for the entirety of the trip once everyone was seated and no one was looking. And that was exactly what happened.

Mark fell asleep on the plane, his hand clasped with yours under his blanket. He was in the middle of rewatching one of the Spider-Man movies when his head slumped to the side, his mouth fell agape, and he started quietly snoring under the noise of the jet engines that kept the plane moving in the air. He looked really cute. You’d never flown with him before, and you never really imagined that you would, so seeing the way he so comfortably fit into his spot in first class and accepted all the amenities and even fell asleep so quickly was baffling to you— But his fogged up glasses, and his brown curls falling in his face nearly took you out. You figured out about two hours into the flight that it was cuteness aggression which nearly had you cuddling him, if it weren’t for the fact that anyone could have spotted you two at any moment.

Mark organized having a driver pick you up at baggage claim because fans were waiting for him there too so he couldn’t go with you. You were pampered completely by the driver offering to take your bag, dragging it behind him as he led you to the nice SUV which had water and snacks waiting for you, and he even offered to let you control the music if you wanted— You were too shy to entertain the thought. When you arrived at the hotel, the driver helped hand your bag over to the bell boys who opened your door and guided you to the front desk where you found Mark already checking into his room as well. He grinned over at you while you both stood at the desk. The lady across from him was trying to ask him questions, but he was so locked into staring at you out of the corner of his eye that he couldn’t focus on the topic at hand. You, however, made your check in brief because your bag was delivered to your room despite the fact that you needed to covertly transport it to Mark’s room. Idiot was already there by the time you arrived. Life of a celebrity… Even though he procrastinated, he still managed to beat you everywhere.

“You like it?” he asked, looking around the suite before falling onto the bed.

You also looked around a bit. It was a big place with a living room, a big TV, a small kitchen, the large king bed, and a huge bathroom that you couldn’t imagine why it was like that. “It’s nice.”

Mark smirked. “You tired? Hungry?”

“Both.”

“Room service?”

You nodded.

Over the next few days, Mark was so busy with work that he was up early in the morning in order to let the makeup, hair, and clothing stylists in so that they could doll him up for the day, then he wouldn’t be back until late in the evening when everyone would return with him in order to take back all their work. It gave you plenty of time to explore on your own, but you wished that it were with him, like a normal couple. You knew what you signed up for. You weren’t stupid. But that was exactly why you declined the trip in the first place because you expected that being alone and missing him would suck. Yeah, the city was pretty in certain places, and it was kind of funny seeing fangirls running around with their Mark Lee photocards on their bags while they ran to go find him at his next public schedule. He even thought it was funny when you told him about your day when you two would be cuddled in bed together, catching up on what the other missed out on. He had a lot more going on than you did, but that was a given.

After the last day of his sponsored trip, Mark was finally free. Like he promised, he took you wherever you wanted, despite the many layers of clothes he had to wear in the heat just so he could go unrecognized, and you felt too uncomfortable to hold hands while walking around. Mark noticed. He was always observant about those kinds of things, so he didn’t want to push you, especially when he was slightly worried too about the amount of fangirls that were still roaming around the city in the hopes of “accidentally” running into their favorite idol.

In the evenings, you and Mark returned to the hotel to relax. Sometimes you would go out for dinner, most times not because someone could snap a picture of you two at dinner and have it in the tabloids ten minutes later with a headline about how the lead rapper of NCT was on a dinner date in London. That was a shit storm neither of you wanted to handle. And it wasn’t like staying in was a bad thing! You still got to see the city as much as you wanted to, and you finally got to spend time with Mark in London, so what was there to complain about?

Work.

There was always work. Being at the hotel meant that Mark got caught up in making music at his laptop for hours on end without realizing how much time was passing. For the most part you didn’t mind because he began around the time you were getting in bed, and you always woke up in his arms regardless, so it wasn’t that big of a deal. But there was one night you were annoyed. Before your room service dinners arrived, Mark was sitting at the desk in his pajamas, headphones on, music blasting while he worked on creating a new mix for his solo projects that he enjoyed messing with— You were pretty sure that he and Johnny were writing another song together too, so his focus was tunnel visioned on work, work, work and not his partner whom he’d dragged to Europe with him after begging like a pathetic puppy for so long. Was he stupid? Yuta probably would have smacked him upside the back of the head if you told him what Mark was doing. “Idiot, there’s a hot person in the bed behind you. Do something about it!” But Yuta would have to smack some sense into your boyfriend later… In the meantime, you had to make due with fighting to put his attention back on you.

“Baby,” you cooed from the bed.

He didn’t budge. Instead, he clicked a few things, opened another Chrome tab, Googled something, then went back to his mix.

“Mark.”

Still nothing.

You tsked your tongue and crawled off the bed. Mark was so lost in his own world that he didn’t even notice that you were only wearing blue underwear just for him; and he didn’t even budge when you dropped to your knees beside him. You rolled your eyes. There was no way his tunnel vision was that bad… Sure, he moved a bit to accommodate you as you skillfully made your way under the desk and settled in between his man-spread legs, but come on, really? He still didn’t take off his headset? What the Hell did he think you were doing down there, counting specs of dust? Sometimes he really could be oblivious.

When you started fiddling with his pajama pants, Mark hesitated, leaning back slightly so that he could glance down at you through his glasses with a raised brow. You hesitated. With a doe-eyed look, you acted like you weren’t doing anything at all, because he seemingly didn’t want to pay much attention to you in the first place, even though it was his idea to drag you to London. Mark warily went back to his work. Once his focus was elsewhere again, you continued to tease him. He let out a quiet gasp when you ran the palm of your hand over the crotch of his pants, feeling up his length that jumped with excitement. You grinned. Still, he eyed you suspiciously while slowly clicking things with his mouse and readjusting tunes with the mixer to his left. Then the tips of your fingers danced over his sensitive tip. His breath hitched, his eyes squeezed shut, and he adjusted slightly in his seat so that it would be easier for you to touch more of him. You didn’t enlighten him. Not yet. You just stared up at him with a grin, admiring how handsome he was, and how the blush on his cheeks was growing along with the erection in his pants.

To test the waters, you ran your hand along his cock again, content that he found you so alluring that he could get as hard as he was within a teasing touch or two. Surely he’d put his attention on you finally if you just… reached into his pajamas and pulled out his cock. Mark let out another quiet moan. But what really did it was when you held him upright as he was still getting harder, and you wrapped your lips around him, sinking down about half way.

“Oh— Fuck, baby—” His hands abandoned his music set up to tangle his fingers in your hair so that he could keep you on his cock. However, you pulled away with surprisingly not much protest from Mark who whimpered when your lips left him, and instead your thumb slowly played with his tip. “Baby, please…”

“Keep working.”

“What?”

You shrugged. “You’ve got a lot of work to do, right? You should keep working, or else Johnny’ll get mad when we go back home.”

“He won’t care—” He bucked his hips up in an attempt to get you to suck him off again.

“Oh? So it could’ve waited?”

“I—” He dawned on him that he’d gotten himself caught in your trap. “I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t even realize.” His head fell backwards when you suddenly licked the length of his dick from base to tip so slowly that you felt him pulse in your hand. “I’m so, so sorry, baby, please…” His hands unwittingly guided your mouth back onto him. Mark groaned loudly. “Just like that.”

He looked so cute with his headset slowly falling off his head, his glasses pushed all the way up the bridge of his nose thanks to gravity, and your name was being chanted like a prayer while it mixed with his moans and pleas for you to keep going. You couldn’t stay mad at that. Seeing him fall apart for you made you happier than anything else in the whole world.

“Use your tongue— Y-Yeah— Just… just like that… Don’t stop…”

You did as he wanted, patterning your movements between bobbing your head, swirling his tip with your tongue, and using your hands to play with his balls and the base of his cock. He whimpered pathetically. It seemed that you were getting to him, faster than you expected. The way Mark swiveled his hips desperately in his chair, and he finally knocked the headset off the top of his head and onto his neck, you could tell that he was already close to cumming.

You pulled away again, using that moment to catch your breath while Mark popped upright to look down at you with pouty eyes, wondering how you could possibly do such a thing when he was so close… Poor thing. Still, it was just as much fun to torment him as it was to see him falling apart thanks to you. When his breath was steady again, you went back to sucking him off slowly— Really slow in the hopes of working him up without getting him too close to the edge yet. It worked. Mark’s feet anxiously kicked against the floor. He groaned and grabbed onto the arms of his desk chair as tightly as he could to keep himself from grabbing you or fucking your face because he knew that would deter you from giving him what he desperately needed.

“Come on, baby,” he egged you on needily, “you look so good with my cock in your mouth… Wanna cum in your mouth… Wanna watch you swallow every drop.” He sucked in a deep breath to relax his body, recollecting himself. When he was calm, he put his fingers back in your hair and pushed you down onto his cock, letting you feel the way his tip hit the back of your throat, both of you moaning in unison. “Fuck, yes!” 

For about a minute, Mark fucked your mouth, thinking that he had all the control in the world, but once again, when he got close, you squirmed your way out of his grasp and sat back to look up at him from under the desk. He pouted down at you. Okay, okay, fine, just one more… It was fun edging him, but you couldn’t bear that sad look on his face.

You tangled your fingers with his so that he had something else to hold onto when you returned to sucking him off with hollow cheeks and your tongue swirling around. Mark’s grip tightened against yours. He boiled himself down to pants and pathetic little whimpers rather than begging you, probably theorizing that it was his neediness that convinced you to keep edging him for fun. However, you wanted to drag those cute reactions out of him to make him earn the orgasm you’d already decided on giving him; So you made sure to put enough attention on his sensitive tip until he had no other choice than to start moaning your name again, coupled with quiet, “Please, please, please, please, please, please…” that indicated his brain had broken so soon and so easily.

With another doe-eyed look up at him, you silently told him that it was okay to finally cum. Mark tensed in his chair in preparation. His thighs squeezed around your head, his feet kept anxiously tapping the carpet, and his hips wiggled desperately in his seat while you bobbed your head faster up and down his length.

“I’m cumming—” He moaned out so breathlessly you almost missed it. “I’m- I’m— Fuck—” With his hips hovering in the air, he finally snapped.

He came hard, his legs shivering, his hands tugging against yours, his cum spilling down your throat. You pressed his hips down onto the chair so that he could relax while you helped him ride out his orgasm. Mark hunched forward when “helping” turned into overstimulating.

“Ah, shit, baby, wait, wait, fuck—”

Finally, you gave him reprieve by slowly dragging your lips off his cock with a pop. Mark released your hands while his body completely slumped with relief, and he reached out to run his thumb over your bottom lip, collecting the little bit of drool mixed with cum that you hadn’t realized was there, then he slowly pushed his finger into your mouth. Take every drop…

“That’s it,” he cooed at you tiredly.

After you finished sucking his thumb clean, Mark rolled his desk chair back in order to give him room to readjust his pants momentarily before reaching out to help you off the ground.

“Come here.”

He welcomed you so easily into his arms and onto his lap. He hugged you close, kissing your lips desperately despite the fact that you tasted like his cum— Or perhaps because of that.

“I’m sorry I got lost in my work.” He pecked your cheek. “Let me make it up to you.”

“Better make it good,” you replied teasingly.

Mark chuckled. “Oh, I will.”

Carefully, he lifted you off his lap and navigated you towards the bed. There was a little more than twenty four hours until your flight home… Yeah, there’d be plenty of time for him to make it up to you and keep his full attention on you in the meantime.

[slasher-fxcker]

Hihi! I was wondering if you can do billy and stu and just the slashers reacting to their someone being hurt at their job and trying to hide it?

A/N: Okay I was going to do this request for multiple slashers, BUUUUUUT I started writing for Billy and Stu and got carried away. I love them too much

Billy & Stu Reacting to their S/O being injured at work.

Warnings: Swearing, mention of blood, brief mention of killing (but I mean this is the slasher fandom so kinda expected lol)

This blog is 18+, Minors do not interact

GIF by casualwriters

You hadn’t been working at the video store for too long but you loved it, your friend Randy had gotten you the job when they were desperate for staff. It was great for the boys too; Billy and Stu would stop by all the time using the place as their personal hang out much to your managers displeasure.

Every Saturday night the boys would swing by and pick some scary movies to watch together after you finished, unfortunately for them you were going to be stuck doing inventory tonight. As usual Billy wasn’t impressed about having to share your time with anyone other than Stu, “Just blow it off what are they going to do fire you?” you rolled your eyes as you continued getting ready. “Yes Billy, probably.”

Stu got up from his spot in front of the tv to try to pull you back to the couch, “Come on babe, do you really think you should be out at night? Don’t you know there’s a killer on the loose?” You try to supress your chuckle as he raises his eyebrows at you, his usual smirk on his face.

You fake innocence putting on your best fear filled voice, “Oh no, what will I do if Mr. Ghostface comes to get me.” Billy laughs one of his rare genuine laughs before Stu steps closer to you placing his hands on your waist, “I could think of a few things.” Smirking as he notices the way you flush at the suggestion. You lightly smack his chest as he laughs at himself once again before you press a chaste kiss to his lips. You grab your bag, blowing a quick kiss to Billy before heading to the door. “I’ll try to get back in time for movie night, but don’t wait up.”

Inventory was fairly boring, you tried to get it done as quickly as possible while Randy spent most of the night showing you his favourite scenes from various movies. Shoving another handful of popcorn into his mouth he continued his rant, “Come on how can you have lived your whole life without watching this movie? Quick you're gonna miss the best part!”

“Randy unlike you I’m actually trying to get this finished before midnight, now are you going to help me or not?” He sighs before finally getting off his ass and heading towards the storage room, 15 minutes go by and he still isn’t back to help. “I swear to god Randy if you're napping on the kart again I’m going to kill you.” You mutter to yourself as you head to the storage room.

You see Randy sitting on the kart going through a box of movies, you try to get a closer look before he sees you. You noticed the box of X rated movies he was looking at. “Randy you perv!” You didn’t realise you had snuck up on him before he jumped up knocking you into the shelves behind you both. Before you could move a box came off the shelf and fell onto you. Your head immediately pounded “Oh shit, Y/N!” Randy hurries to help you up, moving the various tapes that are scattered around to get you back out into the store, sitting up on the counter Randy starts looking over your head. “Oh shit, you're bleeding. Billy’s going to kill me.” You feel him practically prod at your forehead as you hiss in pain and slap his hand away. He helps you clean up the blood and tells you to go home, “Ill finish up here, it’s the least I can do.” You can see how sincere he is when he apologises. Your only worry is how you're going to explain this to the boys.

You decide to head straight home, hopefully the boys will think you just had to stay too late and will leave you be until tomorrow. That way you would at least have time to clean yourself up and come up with a story.

Looking in the mirror the damage is worse than you thought, the red tint on your forehead of smudged blood, the dried blood in your hairline and the bruising that was already beginning to show around the cut that could definitely not be concealed. You sighed as you wet a cloth in the bathroom sink raising it to your head gently, the pain immediately making you wince at the contact.

You raised your hand to try again when you heard something in your room, you looked out the doorway and saw what you could only assume was the boys sneaking in your window. You panicked and slammed the bathroom door closed locking it behind you. You hear the taller of the two call out to you as he knocks on the bathroom door. When you don’t answer he tries to open the door, “Whys the door locked babe?”

“Sorry Stu, I’m not feeling too well.” You try to sound convincing. This time its Billy that answers, “Come out here and tell us what’s wrong.” “Yeah we will look after you.” Stu giggles as you can clearly hear Billy push him away from the door. You feel bad hiding from them, “No its okay, you should probably go home in case I’m uh infectious or something. Yeah.” Your voice wavers and you know you aren’t convincing anyone.

Stu is quiet for once but you hear the edge in Billy’s voice as he speaks, “Y/N don’t lie to us, get out here.” You know they won’t leave, part of you wonders if it would be dramatic to climb out the window at this point. “Don’t make me break the door down.” You would’ve rolled your eyes but you knew he probably wasn’t kidding.

You slowly unlocked the door before slipping out of the bathroom, still not looking at either of them. You try to hide your face but of course they can see it, Stu is at your side immediately trying to make sure you're okay. He gently inspects the cut careful not to touch it. You try to ignore Billy’s stare but you can feel his eyes on you, looking at him for a second regret fills you when you meet his eyes. Billy might be a murderer but everything he does is so calm and thought out, never out of rage. You wouldn’t know that looking at him now, fists clenched at his side as his eyes narrow at you, gaze shifting between your eyes and the cut on your head.

Stu takes you to sit down on the bed, unsure of how to help you. He might be the most caring person when it comes to you but he’s also kinda hopeless. Billy’s gaze doesn’t leave you as you move around the room. Eventually after what felt like endless silence he walks towards you taking your chin in his hand and turning your face to look at the cut better. “Who did this to you?” Any other time Billy’s over protective tendencies would make you feel secure but seeing him like this, eyes dark and glazed over in anger didn’t bring you any comfort.

“No one did this to me.” He cut you off as his grip tightened slightly, “Don’t fucking lie to me. Who did this to you.” You don’t know what to say, you pull your chin out of his grip and sigh, “I was working with Randy and…” Stu seems to pull you closer protectively as Billy raises his voice again. “Randy did this to you?” Billy hated Randy already for so many reasons but this time Stu is the one to speak up, “That little fucker is going to pay,” he stood up and tried to walk away before you grabbed him, “No! I mean please just stay here with me,” you plead him as you pull him into a hug again, you know just how to stop this big softy from making a stupid decision like trying to kill Randy.

“He’s right. You think he gets to hurt you and get away with this.” Calming Billy down was going to be a harder task, “He didn’t hurt me Billy, we were taking inventory and it was an accident.” He scoffed, “He accidentally sliced your head open.” You walk towards Billy and take his face in your hands making him look at you once again, “It was an accident,” he tries to turn his head away but you bring him back to look at you, “And I’m fine now. I promise.”

You watch him as his eyes flicker from your eyes down to your lips, bringing himself closer to you. You reach up to place a kiss on his lips, slightly surprised when he begins to deepen it. His hands wrap around your waist as he starts walking you backwards towards the bed. You know where this is going and as the back of your knees hit the bed frame you break apart smiling up at him as you think you’ve won this one. He gently pushed you back onto Stu’s lap, the kind look gone from his face as he turns to Stu, “Keep her here til I get back.” Stu only seems to nod and Billy starts walking back towards the window, you suddenly realise what’s happening and frantically try to get out of Stu’s embrace.

“Billy no!” you practically yell at him, stopping him half way out the window, “Please Billy, don’t kill him.” He doesn’t respond as he sends you a bone chilling smirk and disappears out of your room.

[b3ach-bunn7]

SWEET BOY

Shinsou Hitoshi gets the practise room on odd days, and you the even ones. You’ve never met him, but the notes he leaves on the music stand keeps you interested.

Noquirk!au, band au, guitarist Shinsou

—————————————————————————-

There’s only two practice rooms in UA.

It’s no surprise. UA is a sports school. That means about ninety percent of their extracurricular funding goes to new basketballs and volleyball nets, and not to the suffering music department. You're not too fussed by it. You suppose two rooms are better than nothing. The only reason you use them is because you and your slightly overzealous friend, Hana, are both auditioning for some prestigious music school in the summer. You need as much practice as you can get, and luckily being a senior means that you can kick out the younger students if you need to use them.

Only this year, there's a new stupid sign up sheet. Apparently now, instead of the usual first come first serve system, you have to sign up for a room and get allocated them in advance. Your friend Hana grumbles beside you, and you adjust the violin case that’s wearing heavy on your shoulder. 

“This is so stupid. These should be first come first serve. Why do I need to sign up?” Hana snaps.

You smile slightly, quickly scribbling in your name under hers. “Look, nobody has even signed up apart from us. And… Shinsou? Who’s that?”

Hana peers at the sheet over your shoulder. She shrugs. “God knows. Probably some loser first year who thinks he can play piano.”

“Hana.”

“What?”

You nudge her shoulder. “Don’t be rude. If we’re lucky we’ll only have him to share rooms with.”

“Whatever. Let’s go get food, I'm hungry.”

.

You try not to cringe at Hana’s very over dramatic reaction to the schedule two days later. She doesn’t really have any shame in yelling in the middle of the corridor, and you tap her shoulder impatiently at the looks you start receiving from around you.

“Hana. Please, chill out! It’s not that serious.” You urge, trying to push her away from the notice board she is very angrily staring at.

“No! He put us on seperate days!”

You look back at the sheet, in the scrawny handwriting of Mr Hamada.

UA Practise room timetables:

Odd days of the month: Hana Ushijima in 3A and Shinsou Hitoshi in 3B

Even days of the month: Sato Akiro in 3A and Y/N L/N in 3B

“It’s not so bad. You're sharing a room with Sato, he’s nice!” You try to smile encouragingly but Hana is not impressed.

She grips your shoulders and shakes a little. “Let’s ask Hamada if we can move days. So we can practise together.”

As horrible as it sounds, you don’t really want to move days. Hana is your best friend but she’s also a lot, especially when it comes to your music. You can only practise with complete and utter calm and silence, and she prefers to chat the whole time and comment on every piece you play.

“I’ll talk to him later.”

You’re not actually going to do that. But what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

.

Your first day in the music room is spent considerably annoyed. 

You said your goodbyes to Hana, after assuring her you were definitely going to talk to Hamada today, and welcome the silence as you click the door to room 3B shut. You can hear the distant sound of chatter and commotion pouring in from the open windows, and you make quick work of shutting them all. You only have half an hour before you have to get to English, and the sound of prepubescent teens fighting over a football outside is not going to make that time any slower. 

The room isn’t anything special. It’s not that big and only consists of an old piano that’s always out of tune, and a guitar hidden in a fabric black case that’s falling apart a little. The furthest wall from the door is covered in drawing and notes from students, and you won’t sit and lie that a thirteen year old you hadn’t scribbled her own messages on the wall.

And then you see it.

The wrapper of what you recognise as the schools way too overpriced sandwiches thrown on the stand for sheet music, and a tissue. Irritation immediately spikes in you, and you frown.

You know it’s that Shinsou kid. Who else? The teachers never come in these rooms, and clearly the cleaners don’t either. It’s just rude, frankly. It’s common courtesy to not litter, especially in a room shared by top people. It’s literally one of the rules in these rooms. You think about throwing it away for a second, because there is a trash can literally outside the door, but you decide against it. This Shinsou kid can clean his own mess.

But you can’t stop thinking about it.

When you take your violin out of its case and pick off the hair that’s sticking to the top. When you wax your bow, place the cool wood on your shoulder. You have to balance your sheet music on the windowsill because of your righteous decision to leave his rubbish on the stand. The piece is one of Bruch’s, and you try your hardest to run over it as best as you can, but you just can’t. His stupid mess rings in the back of your mind like an incessant fly. You’re annoyed he left his stuff there and you’re even more annoyed you’re so annoyed about it. A vicious cycle.

After twenty pretty unproductive minutes, you pull out your own lunch. You sit in the rickety chair in the corner of the room and stew as you eat the bento your mother made you. It’s then you decide that you can be petty too. You rip a paper out of your maths notebook and leave a note, balancing it against the stand alongside his rubbish.

Dear Odd day musician,

It’d be nice if you didn’t leave your rubbish on the music stands. You’re not the only one using the music rooms, and you can clean up after yourself.

Sincerely, Even day musician

.

Dear Even day musician,

Thank you so much for the little note, but that was not rubbish. I had a riff written down on that tissue. Also, please kindly do not leave your negative Even day vibes all over this room. You’re not the only one using the music rooms, and you can clean up after yourself.

Sincerely, Odd day musician.

You have half a mind to go and find this Shinsou guy and shove this note up his ass. He’s thrown the wrapper away, but you see now that the tissue, that he still hasn’t moved, has messy scribbles on it he’s considering notation.

You decide that after you practise your violin you’ll write a reply. It feels stupid and a little childish passing notes back and forth like this but you don’t think you’ll be finding yourself coming back on odd days to yell at him for his mess. The sound of your music leaks out under the door and vibrates in your chest. It’s loud and grating and you put your violin down faster than you should’ve.

You love music. And the violin. You just don’t think you see yourself dedicating your whole life to it, contrary to the beliefs of just about everyone you know. It just feels like you have to do it. You get perfect grades, and the teachers love you, and you’re known around school. You don’t really know how or why, but it’s just who you are. And the next step is some prestigious music school that your mother can brag about to all your aunties.

It’s fine. You like the violin. It will be fun.

You grab a pen and more paper from your bag. You sit in the same rickety chair and scribble another note.

Dear Odd day musician,

Apologies for my mistake. Did the wrapper of your panini also have a riff on it, or was that in fact just your trash? I think my even day vibes are quite positive, and I don’t see how I can stop leaving them all over the room.

P.S: If you clean up after yourself, you won’t have to read any more of my ‘little notes’.

Sincerely, Even day musician.

.

“We’ll be in there in like, ten.”

Hana’s voice sounds tinny out of your phone speaker. You’re laying down on your bed, violin and school bag beside you. The collar of your shirt itches your neck and you tug at it.

“Did you braid your hair like I told you to?” Hana asks and you hum in reply.

“Yes. Took forever.” You mumbled, hands twirling around one of them.

“Yes, well. It’s worth it. You look cute.” 

You don’t want to look cute, you want to look sophisticated. You tell Hana that and she laughs. 

“Sophisticated is overrated. And TestsuTestsu will like it. He’s got a crush on you, you know.”

You frown. You sit up, fixing the back of your hair. “No, he doesn’t.”

“He so does. He’s always looking at you in chem.”

You stand up as you hear the rev of an engine outside. You hoist the violin case on your shoulder and the hard case digs into your back. Your brain thinks of a tissue on a music stand and angry notes.

“I don’t care. He’s too loud.”

“Whatever. We’re outside.”

.

You wait anxiously for the lunch bell to ring. Today you’ve got a egg sandwich that sits heavily in the back of your backpack. You’ve got about an hour until lunch and until your small peace in the practise room. You have orchestra first, though, and everyone waves hello when you walk in, and Mr Hamada grins loud and bright.

“Y/N! I’ve been meaning to ask you. We’re having a school open evening, and I was wondering if you’d be willing to perform a piece?” He asks, bounding over to stand in front of you.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” You smile brightly and you hope he believes it.

It’s the last thing you need to have another performance to practise for. Your mind flits to your audition, the English essay you haven’t completed and the notes on the music stand.

“Great! It’s this Friday. Is that enough time for you to practise?”

This Friday is three days away, you want to yell. But you just nod, hands itching around the neck of your violin. “Yes. That should be good.”

Mr Hamada gives you two thumbs up and makes his way to the front of the room. Hana pokes your shoulder.

“Lucky. You always get the performances.”

You sigh, rubbing at your eyes. “I don’t even want it. I just can’t say no to people.”

Hana rolls her eyes. “Sure, sure. You know you love the attention.”

You wish you could tell her you really really don’t but Hamada’s voice rings across the room to silence you all and you raise your violin.

Orchestra can’t end quickly enough. You wave your goodbyes and rush your way over to the practise room. You place your stuff on the floor and you sit, sighing. You look down at your violin and curse. You can’t be bothered today. Especially not after the hour you just spent with Hana whispering too-mean jokes in your ear every time the girl on clarinet messed up. You pull out your phone and find a recording of you playing and let it ring across the room. At least this way anybody walking past will think you’re actually using this room for good.

You breathe a little lighter. Your eyes dart to the guitar in the corner and then your latest note to Shinsou. This is weird, but you stopped caring a while ago. It’s sort of fun, if you’re being entirely honest with yourself.

Dear Mrs Even,

I’m struggling to understand why you are so bugged by my wrapper. Surely the time it would’ve taken to throw it away would have been much shorter than writing me another angry note? I know you are well known at UA for your perfect grades and perfect attitude and perfect violin plucking, but instead of being mad, get inspired! Maybe write a violin number called “Mr Odd Day’s trash.”

Sincerely, Mr Odd.

You read the note twice to make sure you're not seeing things. You ball it up in your hands and lunge it at the wall. You watch it skid across the tiled floor and, after a few choice words, pick it up and throw it in the bin. You take it back. This isn’t very fun. What does Shinsou know about anything? You’ve never even heard of him before this whole music room problem. You whip out your own notebook and start furiously writing.

Dear Mr Odd,

I apologise that my annoying and perfect vibes have ruined the serenity of your music room. Please enjoy the remains of my egg sandwich. Maybe write a song about that.

Sincerely, Mrs Even

You feel better when you drop the crusts of your sandwich on the music stand. A little voice in the back of your head warns you that Hamada might see them and you’ll get in trouble, but your revenge feels more important than that.

Your leg jogs up and down and the chair creaks below you. Your eyes flit to the guitar in the corner of the room. Without thinking, you reach over and grab it. The case is worn out and old, the fabric peeling, and you unzip the case. The guitar is used and worn out. The strings are not cut at the top and it’s heavier than your violin. It sits across your lap, and you strum. 

You mess around with the strings until you find the E major scale and you pluck the notes gingerly. The sound is deeper and louder than your violin, and you waste away the rest of your lunch break playing the guitar instead.

.

Dear Mrs Even,

Have you been playing the guitar?

Sincerely, Mr Odd

.

Dear Mr Odd,

No. I play violin, not guitar.

Sincerely, Mrs Even.

.

Dear Mrs Even,

This is sad. The guitar is crushed and so am I. My band could’ve used another.

Sincerely, Mr Odd

.

The next day you and Hana check out Shinsou’s instagram page.

You’re not interested in him. If anything he’s annoying, with his stupid notes and surprising intuition that you’d been playing the guitar. You’re just… curious. You feel like you know him, even though you’ve never seen his face before. Until now, of course.

You’re both laying down on Hana’s bed, stomachs down on the mattress. Her covers are soft and there’s a lavender candle burning on her bedside table. You tug her laptop closer so you can see properly. 

“Do you have a crush on him?” She asks.

“No! I’m just. I’m just curious who he is.”

Hana hums suspiciously. You watch her click around on different profiles, searching for his. You lean your head on her shoulder. 

“I spoke to him, you know. I saw him walking into 3B and I asked him if you could swap days and he said no. That he liked the ‘odd days of the week’.” She rolled her eyes but you smiled slightly.

“Yeah. Sounds like him.”

“Oh, come on. You don’t know him.” 

“Shut up and open his profile.”

She clicks it, shin_sou.h04, and you both lean in. 

He’s cute. He’s got that rugged, nerdy sort of look you find unfairly attractive. He also looks sleep-deprived and a little emo, so it’s a perfect combination. The fact this is the guy you’ve been leaving notes to leaves a little tingle in your stomach. Hana hums beside you as she scrolls through his page.

“Hm. He’s okay. He’s in a band. He plays-”

“Guitar, yeah.”

Hana looks at you suspiciously. “How do you know that?”

You falter, face heating. “You know. His guitar, he always leaves it in the music room.”

She doesn’t say anything. The silence makes your skin hot, so you snatch the laptop out of her grasp. “He’s in a band. That’s cool. I want to be in a band.”

“No, you want to be in an orchestra. Our auditions are literally so soon.”

“They are in three months.”

“That’s very soon.”

You pause on one post in particular. He’s standing next to a boy with bright blonde hair, teeth shining as he grins widely into the camera. It’s clearly been shot on an old camera and the quality faded the edges, but they still look good. He looks good.

Hana drags her laptop back. “You so have a crush on him.”

“I do not!”

.

Dear Mrs Even,

I’m no fool, you know. Once again I sense your even day vibes lingering all over my guitar. So I may or may not have done the stalkery thing of coming to room 3B on your day, and there I hear it. Under the sound of your (recorded?) violin playing, the up and down scales of my guitar. So that begs the question: has my influence made you turn from a life of violing? That band position offer still stands, you know.

Sincerely, Mr Odd.

.

Dear Mr Odd,

Fine. I am playing the guitar. It’s a nice breath of fresh air after all this sucky violin playing. Don’t get me wrong, I love it and all, but. I’m sort of sick of it. I’ve been playing ever since I was four, and even though I have no idea how to play it, the guitar is fun. Just don’t mention it to anyone. I’m supposed to be performing tomorrow at the open evening assembly and I should be practising for that but. That’s neither here nor there.

Also, thank you for the band position offer. However, I am in the school’s orchestra and I already have my work cut out for me as is.

Sincerely, Mrs Even.

.

The auditorium is noisy with the sound of a few dozen people chattering. Your eyes scan over the new prospective students and their parents, your violin sitting heavy on your lap.

You don’t mind performing. Contrary to your recent aversion to violin, you love music. You love everything about it, especially the complicated melody of the song you’d picked for tonight. It felt like your responsibility, as someone who played music, to share it with the world, and you were glad you could at least do that much. 

You listen as Principal Nezu rambles about the upcoming tours and whatever else principals talk about, before he turns to you.

“And now, a piece played by our own Y/N L/N.”

You smile. The audience breaks out into applause and you swallow. You know Hana is sitting there somewhere, promising to wait for you after so you can get boba, still a little jealous she didn’t get the part. Your eyes flit to the audience for just one more second to look for a purple-haired guitarist. You don’t see one, though, so you raise your violin. Your eyes shut. You lift your bow and begin.

.

The next note is not left on the music stand. Instead, it slips out of the bottom of your locker, and you scramble to hide it before Hana can see. Unfortunately though, the world is quite against you, and she sees it just before you slip it into your backpack.

“What’s that?”

“It’s nothing.” You say, quickly zipping up your bag.

Hana reaches forward and tries to grab it. “Come on, show me!”

“No, Hana-“

“Just give! Is it a love letter? From your big fat lover Shi-“

You shove her and she laughs. Your little back and forth is catching the eyes of a few people nearby and you think you’d die if this somehow got back to Shinsou. You shush her, quickly shutting the door to your locker.

“Okay! Shut up, people are going to hear!” You hiss, shoving her shoulder again.

“Alright, alright! What is it, though? Another performance offer?” She drawls and you roll your eyes.

“Shut up.”

You slip the note out of your bag. You open it, and just like you suspected, it’s from Shinsou.

Dear Mrs Even,

Your letter makes me sad. Nobody should ever hate their instrument. Music is beautiful, and it should always be played and loved. Which is why I was wondering... if you’re sick of violin, I could teach you how to play guitar? You can come to the music room on one of my days and I’d be glad to show you the ropes. If you think that isn’t weird or anything. I’ll leave my number at the bottom, so just text me if you’re interested.

Sincerely, Mr Odd. 

Your face heats as you read the note. He wants to teach you guitar? He wants to meet you in the music rooms? He gave you his number? 

You don’t care. You don’t. It’s not like you have a crush on him, regardless of what Hana seems to think. You just think he’s kind of annoying. But in a funny way. And he’s attractive, but that’s pretty much it. You don’t care.

Hana gasps at the look in your face. “Wait, is it actually a love letter?”

“Not a love letter. Just a letter.” You shove it into your pocket before she can read it.

Hana huns under her breath. “From who?”

“Nobody.”

“You lie. Just tell me!” You start walking towards class and she dashes after you, linking your arm in hers. “I promise I won’t make fun. As long as he’s not ugly.”

You huff. “Shinsou isn’t ugly, he-“ 

You curse under your breath. Hana gasps for what might be the hundredth time today. 

“I knew it!”

“It’s not like that!” You whine and she laughs.

“Sure, sure. Did all our instagram stalking make you fall in love?”

“I hate you.” 

.

The note burns a hole in your pocket as you sit in maths class. You think about what to text him. If you even should text him, instead of working out the difficult looking quadratic formulas on the board in front of you. Your teacher drones on, his voice low and monotone. Your legs jogs under your table, and against your better judgement, you’re pulling your phone out of your bag and hiding it behind your water bottle.

You feel a little rebellious. You're not really supposed to be on your phone in class, and the thought rings in your head as you copy the number from the letter. It takes you another two minutes of convincing to send a message.

You: Hello

You: Is this Shinsou?

Was that too much? The grammar probably is. Hana always says that your texting is too formal. Maybe you should’ve mixed in an emoji.

Shinsou: gasp

Shinsou: y/n texting in class???

Shinsou: is my favourite goody-two shoes rebelling once again??

You: Unfortunately 

You: This is your bad influence

Shinsou: aw shucks x

Shinsou: im flattered im so influential

You: Don’t get too ahead of yourself

Shinsou: you always text this fancy?

You: Yes

You: Is that a problem?

Shinsou: nah its cute

Shinsou: does this mean u want a guitar lesson

You: Yes

Shinsou: YIPPEE

Shinsou: today is my day so u can come on down

Shinsou: and ill teach you a lesson

You: It sounds like you're going to beat me up

Shinsou: LMAO

Shinsou: i never hit women…

You: Wow… U are so woke

Shinsou: thank u I LOVE WOMEN!

.

You end up telling Hana, because you're not really sure how you’ll explain yourself if she sees you walking into the practice rooms with Shinsou. She drinks thoughtfully out of her apple juice as you both walk slowly to the music rooms. The corridors are basically empty, and you smile at a teacher who catches your eyes as she enters her classroom. Nobody questions why you and Hana are inside during lunch. You’re not supposed to be, but you guess it’s one of the perks of being a ‘goody two shoes’, as Shinsou calls it. The thought of him fills your stomach with another bout of nerves, and you swallow.

“I’m nervous. Should I be nervous?” You ask, and Hana shrugs.

“No.” She pauses. “Well, maybe. I think he likes you, so. This could be considered a first date.” She ponders and you groan.

“I look like shit! This can’t be a first date.” You say, gesturing down at your clothes.

Hana rolls her eyes. You arrive sooner than you’d like and Hana pulls you back before the two of you can walk in. She fixes your jumper, wipes off the mascara from beneath your eyes. She fishes around in her pocket and holds out her lipgloss and you dutifully put it on.

“Just chillax. You overthink too much. And you look cute.” She raises her eyebrows. “And I’m sure Shinsou will think so, too.”

You sigh. “Thanks, Hana.”

She gives you a reassuring smile. “Remember I’m next door.”

“Aw, thanks, but I don’t think I’ll need anything.”

She takes the lipgloss out your hand. “No, not for help. I mean if you two start fucking in there, don’t get too loud. I need to practise.” Your face burns red and Hana laughs, walking off. 

“You- Shut up.” You hiss, shoving her as she walks into her own practise room.

You look at room 3B. It’s on the end of the corridor and luckily far away enough that not only does Hamada never come check on them, but also nobody would see the fact there were two people in the one-person-only rooms. 

You take a deep breath and walk up to the door. Should you knock? Or maybe just walk in. That could be rude, though. Technically, this is someone else’s room, considering the fact today is Shinsou’s day. But he invited you so that probably means he doesn’t care if you walk in. Knocking feels too formal, anyway.

Luckily, your questions are answered for you when the door swings open, and Shinsou is there. 

He’s tall. Taller than he looks on Instagram, at least. He looks a little more sleep deprived in person, but the way he grins down at you makes his whole face look wholly more attractive than you feel is fair. He’s wearing an old band shirt and your eyes dart down to the chain that sits against his collarbones.

“Well, if it isn’t Mrs Even in the flesh.” 

You smile slightly and walk in. The room feels smaller with the two of you in it, and the door clicks shut.

You hum. “I’m only here to make sure you aren’t littering again.”

Shinsou’s voice is deep, and he runs a hand through his hair. “You wound me, Even. And here I thought you were here to learn.” His fingers drum against the neck of the guitar.

You drop your back on the floor and lean against the wall. Shinsou sits on the chair. The guitar looks better in his hands then it does yours, like it belongs. He strums it once.

“No, I’m here for that, too. Can’t turn down free lessons.”

He huffs a laugh. “You gold digger. You’re just using me for my incredible guitar skills.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“I’m literally in a band. That’s like all the proof you need.”

“So show me.”

Shinsou sighs, rolling his eyes playfully. “So bossy. Didn’t expect this from timid Mrs Even.”

You frown. “I’m not timid.”

Shinsou tilts his head. “You’re a little timid.”

“No. I- Okay, just play.”

And he does. It’s nothing long but it’s also nothing simple. You learn quickly enough that he’s a rhythm guitarist, and the practised way his hands fly across the guitar is incredible. And he loves it. You can tell by the way he plays, the ease on his face. It fills you with a little jealousy, but. You love the music too much to focus on that.

He finishes and you clap. “Alright. I’ll admit it. You’re good.”

“Thank you, thank you. I’m here all night.” He holds up his hands and you glance at his hands. There’s way too many bracelets that clink against the guitar.

“I like your bracelets.”

“Thanks. You want one?”

You laugh slightly. “What? No I wasn’t-“

“Have one. I’ve got hundreds of these.” He shrugs and tosses you a beaded bracelet you just about catch.

You pull it onto your wrist, and pull up the sleeves of your jumper. It’s dark green and streaky and cool against your skin. “Thank you.”

He stands, holding out the guitar to you. “You ready?”

You nod. You walk forward and when you grab the guitar your fingers brush against his.

“Should I be nervous?”

“Nah. Your fancy violin fingers should be trained enough to play guitar easily.” 

You sit down in the chair, and place the guitar in your lap. Shinsou pulls over the cajon drum in the corner of the room and sits across from you. He’s close enough that you can smell a woodsy cologne and the smell of fresh laundry on him. 

“Alright. Lesson one: lighten up.”

You give him a pointed glare and he laughs. “See? So much tension in those shoulders. Relax, sweetheart.”

You swallow roughly. “I thought I was timid. Not tense.”

He grins, all white teeth and dimples. “You can be both. Cute, too.”

Your cheeks flush. “Shut up and teach me. You’re so unprofessional.”

“Apologies, apologies. Okay, so you look less tense. I can work with this.” 

He taps the long end of the guitar. “This is called the neck. And these lines separate different frets.”

You nod. It’s kind of like a violin, except your instrument isn’t separated by frets and lines. You just have to remember where the notes are. You tell Shinsou and he nods.

“Us guitar players aren’t as clever.”

“That I can agree with.”

“Shut it. Okay, so chords are simple. You press your fingers on the right strings really hard and you strum.”

You nod again. He nods too, hair bouncing.

“Okay, so. Press your middle finger here, pointer there and index at the bottom string.” 

You follow his instructions. “Like this?”

“Kind of. Just.” His hands inch forward but he stops. He look up from your hands to your eyes. “Can I?”

“Yeah.” 

His hands are long and slender and soft when he pulls your thumb lower on the neck of the guitar. You feel the rough edges of his callouses as he presses over your own fingers, his other hand strumming the guitar once.

“Look at you. Fast learner.”

You smile. “Thanks.” He strums it again, other hand leaving yours.

“That’s a G chord.” You say, and he hums.

“Impressive.”

“Hm. I’m much more musically inclined than you, I bet.” You tease and he huffs.

“Show off. Come on, let’s keep going.”

You play three more chords, and with all four in total, Shinsou tells you you’ve learnt a song. It’s only after three runthroughs and his humming that you realise what he’s taught you.

“Is this Creep by Radiohead, you emo?”

“Bingo!” He cheers. “You know good music.”

“Everyone knows that song. Though I do like Radiohead.” You say, balancing the guitar against the wall.

You aren’t playing and Shinsou isn’t teaching anymore, but he doesn’t move any further away. Your knees brush against his and you smooth your skirt over your thighs. 

“You do? I assumed you only listened to classical music.”

“No. Well, I do. But I listen to other stuff, too.” 

The mention of classical music has you glancing at your violin. You’ve started just leaving it in the music room. You wonder if Shinsou has ever picked it up. His eyes follow the trail of your own.

“Ah. The dreaded violin.”

“Stop. I like it. I do.” 

Shinsou looks at you curiously. You feel a little watched. Like he’s looking right inside of you.

“I don’t know. I love music. Really. I live and breathe it, but recently violin just feels like a job. I don’t get to love it anymore. It’s play this, learn that. Whatever to impress the people at the audition, the parents at open evening.”

You sigh, rubbing at your face. “Sorry. I don’t mean to ramble.”

“Nah, you’re fine. I get it. Well, not completely. My mum doesn’t love my passion for music so I think that makes me love it a little more.” 

You huff a laugh and Shinsou smiles a little. 

“But you’re very good. At violin playing.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “When have you seen me play?”

“At the open evening.”

You think back to the night, the quick piece you’d played and the fact you’d looked for him and found nothing.

“Really? I didn’t see you there.”

He leans forward closer. “Aw. Were you looking for me, sweetheart?”

“No. Though I’m sure the bright purple hair would’ve been hard to miss.”

Shinsou cracks his knuckles and you wince at the sound. “I messed up the times, but I caught you at the end. You’re amazing. Really.”

You stir a little at the compliments. With the most grace possible, you get them a lot. But it sounds a little better coming from Shinsou, especially when he’s looking at you so intently.

“Yeah, well. I have been playing since I was four.”

“Stop doing that. Making excuses. You’re good because you’re good. Even if it’s getting annoying it’s obvious you love to play.”

You flick his leg. “Alright. Fine. I’m good. At violin and guitar.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves now.”

Your finger lingers on his knee a little. You’re about to say something, and so is he by the way he sits up a little. But the door to the music room opens suddenly, and Hana pops her head in.

You stand up suddenly. Shinsou waves at Hana while you try to look like you’re not doing something you shouldn’t be.

“If you two are done.. whatever you’re doing in here, me and Y/N have got Math.” 

“Hey, neighbour.” Shinsou says and she nods curtly, stepping out to wait for you.

“She’s a pleasure.” Shinsou raises his brows and you smile.

You pick up your backpack and pull it over one shoulder. “She just needs to warm up to you a little. She’ll like you if I like you.” You walk over to the door.

Shinsou stands too. “So. Do you like me then?”

You look back at him, hand still on the doorknob. “Hm. Still deciding. Might need a few more guitar lessons before I can know.”

He grins. “Good. I’m free every odd day of the week.”

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

This fic was very confusing to write.. lots of different media forms.. I was trying something new and I hope u like it!

I was tryna go for nerdy ochestra girl x emo band guy cause Shinsou is lowkey giving that if I’m being really honest with myself and I want SHINSOU if I’m being honest with myself

I hope u all enjoyed.. I will deffo be writing a part two, but it’s currently Ramadan so my posting schedule will probably be very sporadic..

LOVE U ALLL

[the-hexzone]

Happy WIP Wednesday!

In honor of this special occasion and to show my appreciation for the many talented authors in our fandom, I’ve created a list of my favorite ongoing Arcane Jayvik fics as of April 2, 2025.

(Edit by @arcanegifs)

Post-Canon Stories

The Line is Covered in Jellyfish by Staroverlord (@yunuen)

Rated M | 6/10 Chapters | 65k+ words

Summary:

Jayce and Viktor survive the Hexcore, a blizzard, their own bodies, sharing a bed and all the things they’re too afraid to say. Slowly, they put themselves back together— piece by stubborn piece.

When Viktor finally asks why Jayce stayed behind inside the Anomaly with him, Jayce stares at him as though he’s supremely disappointed by the question— as if Viktor has betrayed his own brilliance by asking something so irredeemably stupid. “How could I not? We’re partners.”

Partners, Jayce calls them. Not for the first time, Viktor wonders: Partners in what?

Notes:

As much as I love the “Jayvik lands in a field of flowers” trope, I experienced a delightful level of schadenfreude when the arcane spat them out in the middle of bumfuck nowhere during a blizzard instead. Fighting to survive puts what transpired between them in the astral plane on hold, and everything left unsaid makes space for old insecurities and regrets that loom like the world’s biggest elephant in their one room dilapidated cabin. The resulting slowburn, wrought by avoidance warring with codependency and forced proximity, is exquisite torture for everyone involved—the readers especially. It’s also one of the funniest fics I’ve ever read.

***

motion on a circle by runesick (@runesick)

Rated M | 2/3 Chapters | 22k+ Words

Summary:

jayce and viktor make a vow to finish their work, together. the arcane has other plans.

(some exploration of whatever 'forever holding each other in the infinite embrace of the arcane' actually means)

Ekko’s face twists, looking around. From his expression, Viktor feels more confident that he didn’t somehow drop off while in transit. “Did we end up on a round-trip?”

“I… No, we would have noticed it coming to a stop,” Viktor says, his tone betraying his frustration too much to justify. He’s meant to be responsible here, responsible for himself and his student, regardless of their distance from campus. “Come, we have to try once more.”

“What happens if it doesn’t work?”

Viktor grimaces. “It will work.” He looks up at the ticket booth, cast-iron Piltie script molten into incomprehensible mud. “I’ll pay, c’mon.”

He hands his coins over and they smear with blood. Viktor checks his hands but there’s no cuts, no bleeding there. The cashier’s face twists, gold and ivory with no mouth to say ‘safe descent’ .

Notes:

I don’t think I’ve ever come across a piece of writing that perfectly captures the uncanny experience of dreams and nightmares in the way this fic does. The subtle terror of not-quite-right that grows, and grows, and GROWS as the narrative progresses is immensely compelling. I’m utterly thrilled by this darker interpretation of the infinite embrace of the arcane.

***

Dinner at Jericho’s by Avelera (@avelera)

Rated T | 4/6 Chapters | 14k+ Words

Summary:

It's been six years since the events of "Arcane", and Jayce and Viktor have spent those years traveling between dimensions on the Arcane's behalf, preventing the rise of Hextech. Now, they've finally been granted a break from their work and a chance to return to their home dimension to catch up with family and old friends. In which Jayce, Viktor, Caitlyn, and Vi go on a long-overdue double-date, and Viktor sees for the first time what happens when disaster duo Jayce & Vi are in the same room together.

“Oh no, I was afraid of this,” Caitlyn muttered.

Viktor frowned and glanced at her. “What is it?”

“I don’t know what it is, but whenever these two are together, their brains leak out their ears,” Caitlyn whispered. “I’ve found the best solution is just to clear a blast radius.”

Viktor stared. “Jayce? But… he’s a scientist, a man of reason!”

Caitlyn gave him a look. “Believe me, I know. But for some reason, none of that matters when these two are in a room together.”

Notes:

Our beloved characters are treated to a much needed night of light-hearted revelry after the events of Arcane put them through the ringer. Humorous fluff featuring bookstreet and their exasperated partners. Everyone is so happy and in love. This fic always puts a smile on my face.

***

Pygmalion by thats_a_secret (@twenty-qs)

Rated E | 7/? Chapters | 38k+ Words

Summary:

Jayce, in the Crucible. Viktor, in the Garden. And the Herald, in the worlds between.

They land in a field of flowers.

There is a version of the Herald who knows this place. Who has walked a thousand iterations of this field, in a thousand worlds and a thousand lifetimes. The same Herald who had carved that pattern into the blue crystal, knowing what it meant, knowing it would lead the keeper of his heart back to this place.

This Herald, the Herald of the right-here-and-now, knows only that he has found an unexpectedly soft landing.

Notes:

Beautifully written, dark, and bittersweet. The prose might as well be poetry. Each chapter is rich with detail in a way that every line feels like striking gold. It makes me want to grab a shovel and delve deeper. The narrative takes a shape not dissimilar from the wild rune—a web woven of poignant vignettes that offer kaleidoscopic views of the past, present, future, and spaces in between. I find somethig new with each re-read.

***

Capgras by wifidelis (@wi-fidelis)

Rated M | 10/? Chapters | 54k+ Words

Summary:

Jayce and Viktor are hurled out of the anomaly and dropped into the field where it all began. While it seems like the opportunity for a fresh start, Jayce's health rapidly begins to decline. In a desperate bid to save his partner, Viktor makes a series of shocking discoveries about Jayce's body and mental state... leading Viktor to believe that *his* Jayce is not what emerged from the Arcane with him.

Jayce, struggling with the effects of the Arcane on his mental state, also begins to wonder if he is himself anymore.

Through the haze, he finds Viktor, the sky folding to darkness and rippling into a multitude of stars behind him. Jayce begins to tremble in earnest, tears bending Viktor’s portrait amongst the cosmos.

“I didn’t fail you?” Jayce rasps.

“No,” Viktor breathes. “You succeeded.”

Notes:

A fic with all the painful, angsty details of what it means for Jayce and Viktor to survive the finale and return to physical forms. The ultimate sickfic. There is so much whump! Neither of them are okay, but Viktor is nonetheless foisted into the role of caretaker for a feverish, arcane-infected Jayce when they go on the run. I enjoy a lot of fics that heavily feature Viktor whump, but it’s really refreshing for Jayce to get a turn!

***

Canon!Universe AUs & What-Ifs

Progress Day by Avelera (@avelera)

Rated E | 2/4 Chapters | 11k+ Words

Summary:

It’s Progress Day, two years after Jayce and Viktor became partners, and the inaugural launch of the Hexgates is this year’s main attraction. Jayce and Viktor are the toast of the town and celebrating the best night of their lives when Viktor decides he’s ready to take the next step forward in their partnership.

Or: how to have the boy, how to lose him, and what happened after.

Viktor raised his glass towards the only person in the room who mattered. “There is, in truth, only one man to whom this night is owed. A man who… whose dream changed the course of my life forever. Jayce, if I had the chance to choose the path my life would take a thousand times over, I would always make the same choices that would have led me here, standing in this room with you tonight to make your dream a reality.”

Notes:

A canon compliant possibility of what Jayce and Viktor’s partnership entailed in the missing years between Act One and Act Two of the first season. The dramatic irony of impending heartbreak makes the present promise of intimacy all the more impactful.

***

Lies We Tell Ourselves by tenderwatches (@tenderwatches)

Rated E | 28/50 Chapters | 128k+

Summary:

In a city divided by power and wealth, Viktor returns to Piltover after years of exile—lungs failing and pride wounded—only to discover Jayce has rebuilt the very invention that drove them apart. As they reluctantly collaborate on synthetic Hextech crystals that promise revolutionary change, they uncover a dangerous connection between magic, ambition, and the toxic Gray choking Zaun's streets.

While rekindling their fractured partnership amidst scientific breakthroughs and political machinations, they confront the truths they've hidden from themselves and each other: desires long buried, sacrifices made in desperation, and the possibility that progress might come at too high a cost.

Some lies protect us, others destroy us—but the hardest lies to overcome are the ones we've been telling ourselves.

Four to nine months.

“Don’t let me run,” Viktor murmurs into the minuscule distance separating them, words barely audible once more. Jayce has to lean in to hear him, and he reinforces his gentle plea. “I… know myself. This will be difficult, and I will… try to retreat.”

Jayce kisses him again, softly, slowly, like he’s memorising the feeling. “I won’t,” he promises before he savours another kiss, letting their bodies come together again. Viktor fits against him as if he’s made for this space, somewhere between shaping the future and dreaming of possibility. When they part, he rests his forehead against Viktor’s, eyes closed. “Let me take you home.”

Notes:

A League of Legends/Arcane fusion. The Jayvik Divorce happens during the timeskip before they stabilize the crystals into gemstones. From there, dominoes topple one after the other, creating a world that is familiar yet also full of compelling story opportunities that went unexplored in canon. This is the reconciliation/slowburn fic to me.

***

Dress me in midnight, feast upon my bones by hexhomos (@hexhomos)

Rated E | 3/? Chapters | 34k+

Summary:

The rocket strikes through the heart. Reality collapses in less than five seconds.

Jayce rebuilds Viktor, little by little, piece by piece.

And if his partner comes back from the dead a little different, well... what's not to love? Jayce is a quick study. He can adjust himself into a suitable form. He pledged himself to this task a dozen years ago; he's in it for the long haul.

To put it bluntly: this is the one where Dr. Frankenstein runs away with his bride.

(Jayce follows Viktor down to the depths of Zaun, and amid the riots and war-banners, everything changes.)

He really thought they’d have more time. Jayce had assumed, no, believed, that all the accumulated years of sweat and labor would deliver him a reward of some kind. That the gods from realms above would smile kindly upon their accomplishments; that a miracle would happen. Viktor deserved as much. They were owed as much. (And in his heart of hearts, Jayce thought – I’d be buried in snow if it wasn’t for a miracle. I’ve seen it happen once. I’ve been saved once. It could happen again. I could repay my standing debt and make it happen one more time, just for him.)

Notes:

The gothic romance of it all is immaculate. This fic encapsulates the monstrous devotion of their partnership after Jayce revived Viktor with the Hexcore. They are both so unwell about each other. I’m eager to find out what happens next and dreading the consequences.

***

into perihelion by jasspurr (@jasspurr)

Rated E | 8/? Chapters | 48k+ Words

In which Viktor discovers that there is one thing worse than impulsively sleeping with your lab partner: doing it again.

And again. And again. And again.

Viktor knows that he needs to stop this. That he has exactly one chance left to stomp out the kindling before it takes flame and swallows him whole.

It should be so, so easy. All he has to do is walk away from the ledge.

But he can't. He can’t.

Notes:

This the second installment of basophobia, also known as Jayvik and Their Messy Situationship: The Series. The amount of pining and denial is off the charts! One might assume that sleeping together would remedy that—it doesn’t. It makes them worse. Exquisite emotional slow burn.

***

your teeth in my neck by b_o_i

Rated E | 22/23 Chapters | 201k+ Words

Summary:

In which Viktor is a sex worker, Jayce is one of his best clients, and they still manage to create hextech together. The rest is a little more complicated.

Councilor Jayce Talis is something of a running joke around here—the fact that he’s been coming here for years, since before he was anyone at all. A lot of the workers and regulars alike remember the stuttering academy student who stumbled his way in six years ago; the idea of that little asshole being a full-fledged councilor now is kind of hilarious. It’s also kind of infuriating, if you think about it too long.

Notes:

Over 200k+ words of plotty porn. This author is exceptional at writing emotional and physical intimacy. I always love when fics explore how certain changes to Viktor’s background might impact his political consciousness and core beliefs, and this story does exactly that. The evolution of Jayce and Viktor’s relationship from something transactional to partners of equal standing is a complicated, messy journey rife with political machinations and the growing social class disparities in Piltover and Zaun.

***

Alternate Timelines & Time Travel Fix-Its

In This New Skin by stillwatersounds

Rated M | 1/3 Chapters | 14k+ Words

Summary:

After the end of the world, Viktor and Jayce wake up back in the lab. Like none of it ever happened.

“We’re back,” Jayce is still saying, dulled behind the ringing in Viktor’s ears. “Before it all went wrong. Vik, this is incredible. Do you get what this means?”

It hits him slowly, bile rising in his stomach, what exactly it is Jayce is referring to. What it means for Viktor to be breathing. Inside his palms, he can still feel the stars ache.

Notes:

I’m obsessed with how this fic depicts Viktor struggling with his return to humanity and the difficult reality of second chances. This puts him at odds with Jayce’s ceaseless determination to fix things, and the resulting angst is marvelous.

***

Good Luck, Babe by Kosmos_Relic

Rated E | 23/? Chapters | 156k+ Words

Summary:

Post-Canon Fix it Timeline- Where Jayce can't let go how badly he messed up, Viktor needs a few reasons to break his cycle of withdrawing from others, and they both pretend they aren't the dumbest men in all of Piltover and Zaun combined.

He stares longingly at Viktor, the soft curve of hair around his ear, the twitch of his brow as he works through his confusion of Jayce knowing his name. But of course Jayce does. Knows his name. Knows how long he can sit before he's too stiff to walk. Knows his entire list of dreams to stop suffering of others- all of it blindsided because Jayce’s obsession with the arcane came and ruined everything good in him.

“How do you-”

“I’m sorry.” Jayce isn’t ashamed that his voice breaks, his body shaking with all the hurt of a different timeline, “I never meant- I only wanted to save you.”

Notes:

I love how the fandom took the idea of multiple timelines and ran with it! We have a feast of cakes, and this one is delectable. Post-canon Jayce winds up in a different timeline just as this world’s Viktor is about to seize his research and have him detained. Much to Viktor’s dismay, Jayce immediately abandons Hextech despite its clear potential. Jayce insists that they can help people and change the world through other means. This changes their partnership significantly, and a pre-timeskip passionate romance ensues. The two things I really enjoy about this fic are 1) the deviations between this timeline and Jayce’s native timeline that exist both in the periphery and main story and 2) a creative exploration of the arcane’s impact on Jayce and how it manifests.

***

Shake the Shadow by enby_chaos (@enby-chaos), ResidentHesitant (@crimewizards)

Rated T | 5/? Chapters | 26k+ Words

Summary:

After promising the old mage that he wouldn’t fail, Jayce is sent back to Piltover - ten minutes before his lab explodes. Knowing what he knows now, he can use that chance to change things - to stop his lab from exploding, yes, but to stop the hexcore's corruption before it can even start, too. With relationships to rebuild, a career to restart, and constant nightmares of the hexcorized world he barely escaped, Jayce has his work cut out for him.

Meanwhile, Vi wonders just how it is this Piltie knew her name.

“Sorry,” the topsider said, taking a sip of his drink. “It’s, uh– it’s been a weird day.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Powder finish her juice and hop off her barstool with a wave, going over to bother the lad with all the books. The topsider watched her go, his eyes following her to the fellow’s table and going wide when he saw the other student. He immediately busied himself with his drink. Vander laughed. “You know him?”

The topsider took a too-large gulp of his ale, gaze fixed on the counter.

“I, uh. I haven’t met him, yet.”

Notes:

My favorite part of this fic is its use of Outsider POV. As one might expect, fixing the world with time travel makes you act really fucking weird. Jayce is an anxiety-ridden mess. Viktor is intrigued.

***

No red roses on our graves by moondust88

Rated T | 13/35 Chapters | 54k+ Words

Summary:

The destruction of Hextech reverberates across every universe, but in this one, its collapse is absolute. Every fragment of its power detonates in a catastrophic chain reaction, and those caught too close to it pay the ultimate price. The Arcane stirs. Reality bends, fractures yawning open where once there was order. And through those cracks, two broken souls are torn from the wreckage of their own world and thrust into another.

Viktor and Jinx wake up in a city that already grieves them. Viktor learns that in the aftermath of the explosions Jayce was sentenced to lifetime in prison. Desperate to get his soulmate out against Piltover's verdict, he turns to the only person who could grant it: Silco.

Jinx survives against her will—again. She’s tired. Tired of fighting, tired of losing, tired of being dragged back from the edge. But she believes she owes it to Silco (on account of the murdering and all) to make his dream of Independent Zaun come true.

Her mind lurched, trying to put together an explanation, any explanation, but the pieces didn’t fit. They weren’t even part of the same puzzle.

She had died. He had transcended. She had woken up here. And surprise, surprise, so had he.

Maybe she had finally lost it. Her grip on reality—shaky at the best of times—had finally, irreversibly, snapped. Maybe she had never left the wreckage. Maybe her body was still burning, buried in the ruins of her own making. Maybe she had never woken up at all.

Then—a breath. A tremor. A voice, hoarse, struggling through the weight of its own disbelief.

“This—” Viktor rasped, fingers trembling against the ground. “This can’t be.”

Notes:

Jayvik but also features a lot of Jinx and Silco, which I’m 100% here for. There is a bittersweet comfort that’s intrinsic to this premise, and reading it is like listening to sad songs just to feel something. Post-canon Jinx reuniting with this universe’s Silco, who is grieving the unexpected loss of his Jinx, broke my heart in two before stitching it back together. Then there is post-canon Viktor’s desperation to save a version of Jayce whose dreams have gone up in flames for a second time, taking this world’s Viktor along with them. I’m so, so excited for these parallel plots to intersect as Viktor turns against Piltover and aligns himself with Silco for Jayce’s sake.

***

Genre Swap AUs

Oathbreaker by queercatfam (@lesbianherald)

Rated E | 2/10 Chapters | 28k+

Summary:

When loyal Piltovian knight Jayce Talis gets severely injured in a fall, he's rushed to the infirmary and stripped of his duties. While recovering, he develops an infatuation with the Royal Apothecary in charge of his care, Viktor. He soon learns that Viktor has a dangerous secret, one that may test Jayce's loyalties to his friends, his family, and the very kingdom he's sworn to.

Jayce takes a few deep breaths. He focuses on Viktor’s eyes. Searches for something warm. Tangible. Human. That beautiful hand. He hopes and hopes and hopes Viktor will let him take it. Uses so much effort to reach out for it. He lets out a little sigh when Viktor does. He stares at Viktor’s hand in his own. He thinks of one of the first things he said to him.

“Do you…” his heart starts stuttering in this strange, unnatural rhythm. “Do you hold hands with - with all your patients or just your favorites?”

Notes:

Please, please, please read this masterpiece right now. The fantasy world building is incredible, and I’m absolutely loving the various ways canon elements have been adapted to this setting. The story’s conflict being rooted in magic and mages is such a lovely ode to the origin of Hextech.

***

Glory, Golden Boy by cazimiz (@cazimiz)

Rated E | 20/29 Chapters | 80k+ Words

Summary:

Zombie Apocalypse AU - Mostly everything starts the same and then everything goes to shit on Progress Day

And all that Jayce could hear was the sound of his own breathing and the roaring of blood in his ears.

He stood there, both hands on his hammer where one face of it was still stuck in the gore.

In the blue glow of Hextech, Jayce could almost tell himself that it wasn’t human.

Notes:

A terrifying, action-packed translation of canon into a zombie apocalypse story. The narrative is propelled by Jayce’s growing desperation to reunite with Viktor after the outbreak on Progress Day. I really enjoy that this fic brings zombies to Piltover and Zaun rather than placing the characters in an established zombie-ridden setting. The exploration of shifting politics and power struggles in Zaun and Piltover under these dire circumstances is fascinating. There is also plenty of badassery to go around among the ensemble cast.

***

Me [28M] with my roommate of 1 year [31M], I’m worried I might be homophobic towards him? by ivypool (@lesbianivypool)

Rated E | 12/13 Chapters | 85k+ Words

Summary:

The one where jayce can't figure out why he cares so much about the guys his new roommate brings home... and doesn't realize he's fallen in love until he's completely and totally fucked.

"So this whole roommate thing. I just wanted to ask, like… what are you looking for? Should I totally leave you alone?” (God, please say no.) “Should we just be, like, cordial coworkers?” (Please, please, please say no.) “Or do you want to be more like… friends?”

Viktor snorted. It was a sound Jayce was starting to crave. His heart squeezed.

“Yes, Jayce.” Viktor stood, leaning on his cane. “I think we should be friends."

Notes:

A fic where Jayce has a bisexual awakening without eating raw lizards at the bottom of a ravine and being tormented by hallucinations in the fire. This delightful Modern AU is based on that one viral Reddit post about that guy realizing he has gay feelings for his roommate. I can totally see Jayce authoring that post because he doesn’t realize he’s in love with Viktor. Also, special shout-out to Rio being a pet axolotl!

***

That’s all Folks!

[gingersxng]

Tease Me & I’ll Go Rough On You

Pairing: f!reader x Mingi

Genre: smut 18+

Summary: would it be so bad to push your boyfriends buttons and tell him what you want when you’re home alone getting more and more desperate for his touch.

Notes: rough mean dom!mingi, sub!reader, boyfriend mingi, mingi has tattoos on his hands, teasing, sexting, nudes, mention of sex toys, big dick mingi, pet names (doll, darling), reader is called a freak, blowjob, degradation, slight choking, reader is stripping, unprotected sex (always be safe), lots of grabbing, nipple play, overstimulation, creampie, many rounds. may have forgot something!

Words: 1.6k

your boyfriend was away for the night with the boys and you weren’t invited, it was only a boys night out so you were home alone waiting for your boyfriend to come home. Mingi had been extremely busy these last few weeks with work and more work and you guys didn’t get to spend much time together so when you found out he wasn’t going to be with you tonight either you got a bit upset cause you missed him, you missed his touch, his big tattooed hands… his big dick. damn. your mind began to run away thinking of all the dirty things you wanted him to do to you. It was two weeks since you last had sex, Mingi had spent most of the days at the studio and even spent the nights there too. you’ve received messages some nights from Mingi telling you to send pictures of your breasts because he was so horny he couldn’t sleep.

it was soon midnight and maby an hour left until Mingi would be home, or so you hoped. as time passed by you felt yourself getting more and more impatient and horny. you were almost about to bring out your toybox to get the job done yourself, fucking yourself with a dildo wasn’t at all as good as being fucked by Mingis big cock but since he wasn’t here and you were so damn horny you had no choice. you were about to sink down on the big red rubber dick when an idea popped up in your head. since Mingi was out with his friends you decided it would be a fun thing to tease him, you knew you would be out on thin ice teasing that man but right now you would do anything to have him destroying your pussy with his big cock.

you sent a message to him:

to my mingi: how long before you come back home?

mingi: i don’t know but maybe an hour or so.

to my mingi: can’t you come home now? pls

mingi: it won’t be long i promise.

to my mingi: i really need you… so bad I’m going crazy!

mingi: I’ll be home soon you have to wait okay.

to my mingi: but I need you inside me right now I can’t wait anymore!!

mingi: I’ll take care of you when I get home, fuck yourself on that red dildo I bought you.

to my mingi: I don’t want to I want you to fuck me Mings.

mingi: *seen*

to my mingi: and now you don’t even reply to me?? well alright then.

*you sent a picture of yourself in a black lingerie set and thigh high stockings Mingi bought for you on your birthday*

to my mingi: I guess I’ll play with myself but you’ll miss this then.

mingi: I’ll be home in 15 min, on your knees and that’s an order understood?!!!

you’re whole stomach twisted knowing what waited when he came home, filled with both lust and anxiety you patiently waited down on your knees on the wooden floor in your shared bedroom. finally you heard Mingi coming home tossing the car keys somewhere and headed upstairs your way. the door swung open and you were met by a aroused Mingi, his eyes were hooded and filled with lust. he looked down at you with a smirk forming on his lips. “what a dirty freak you are, can’t even wait patiently for my cock” he said raising an eyebrow at you. being called a freak sent chills down your core and your panties only got wetter. “ you better put that nasty mouth to good use before I fuck your brains out” he said as he started to unbuckle his pants. you could clearly see the outline of his massive cock. Mingi pulled down his pants and boxers to let out his friend, it didn’t matter how many times you’d seen his dick it always made your mouth water and your pussy throb.

Mingi pumped his length a few times before slapping it on your cheek wanting you to open. you welcomed him into your mouth licking up and down his veiny thick shaft earning a groan from him. one of Mingis favourite things was having you down on your bare knees begging for his cock and fuck your throat until you can’t speak.

while working your lips around his length Mingi was holding your chin in a tight grip forcing you to look him straight in the eyes, your eyes began to tear up a bit as he started to rock his hips pressing his dick further down your throat. “is my doll crying?” Mingi said in a sarcastic tone as he caressed your cheek putting his thumb in your mouth. with your big teary eyes you could see he had the “I won’t be nice to you” look on his face and it made you even hornier if that’s possible. “I’ll give you something to cry about” he growled. he put one hand behind your head and the other one squeezing your neck while fucking his dick down your throat with big slow thrusts resulting in you gagging over and over again getting dizzy and more tears running down your cheeks. the fucked out expression on your face and the drool spilling out of your mouth made Mingis cock twitch meaning he was close. he bucked his hips a few more times before he pulled out leaving you gasping for air. he denied his own orgasm just to get to torture you more which was his favourite thing to do when you didn’t behave like tonight.

Mingi sat down on the bed watching as you were catching your breath, chuckling as he saw what a mess you were already. you stood up wiping your wet cheeks with your hand, taking a step towards the bed Mingi stopped you. “take off your panties” he said with a voice so deep it could break you. you obeyed him taking the hem of your panties sliding them down slow to tease him some more, adding more fuel to the fire. Mingis cock twitched at the sight in front of him and he too grew more impatient. when you finally had tossed your panties somewhere on the floor you walked over to Mingi grabbing his shoulders as you straddled him. you could feel him getting more and more worked up and now you were in for a ride.

Mingi ran his hand down your stomach and stopped to play with your clit making you moan, you took a hold of his cock and guided it to your entrance rubbing the tip along your soaking folds. your actions made him snap and in a flash he were grabbing your waist and pushed you down on his thick dick. it felt like you got split in half and once again the tears were back. “fuck you’re too big” you breathed out. Mingi gave you a wink with his bottom lip between his teeth. he pulled out slow and smashed you down onto his cock with force hitting your cervix with every thrust. your hands found their way to his hair tugging on it earning lots of groans from Mingi who was busy using his strength to destroy your insides resulting in you being unable to walk the coming week. Mingis hands were squeezing your ass and breast and his thrusts were getting sloppy. you could also feel the knot in your stomach tighten as he hit all the right places over and over again and with some stimulation to your nipples you felt your orgasm burst, you bruised his shoulders and nuzzled your head into his neck followed by a loud moan. riding out your orgasm Mingi was still thrusting up into you waiting for his own release, his thrusts was getting so sloppy he missed your entrance a few times making his cock brush against your clit. putting himself back in again he sped up the pace, his breathing getting heavier and the beads of sweat on his forehead were dripping down. you could feel yourself getting overstimulated and your legs began to shake with a second orgasm on its way.

“pls Min- aaahh” you cried out feeling a familiar tingle in your stomach building up again. “cum again darling, cum on my cock” Mingi growled thrusting harder and the smirk never leaving his lips. a few more thrusts and you both came. you felt a big load of Mingis hot seeds spurting into you painting your insides white. “now your pussy is filled up good” he said giving you a kiss. you felt your eyelids getting heavy and were almost off to dreamland but Mingi was not thinking about going to sleep yet, in fact it was you who wanted this and even made him leave his friends behind just to go home and fuck his impatient and horny girlfriend.

Mingi pulled you off him and placed you onto your back, his tall figure looking down at you with hungry eyes. tired and sore you waited to get railed yet again by your favourite dick. Mingi placed wet kisses along your inner thighs and got up to whisper something in your ear that made your pussy throb. “coming up with this teasing shit idea again and I will only make it worse for you, my nasty doll”

he pushed himself inside your cum filled stretched hole with no intentions at all on going easier on you.

[misshoneyimhome]

I’m OBSESSED with your prompt list & I want to request everything for Jack, but don’t want to spam you 😭 so I’ll do one to start hahaha

Can you do Jack with the prompt “Can you help me with my tie?” / “Can you zip up my dress for me?” — either one or both, whatever you’re feeling :)) <3

Babe, feel free to spam me anytime 😉 Although, I'm still practicing my writing skills when it comes to Jack H 🤍

But of course - though I did do a bit of a combo of the two 🌺 and in the end, it turned out to be nothing but sweet fluff

Hope you enjoy it 🤍

Word count; 2.1K

[bestfriend!Jack x reader] - again, I know 🙈

・✶ ｡ﾟ

As one of Jack Hughes’ closest friends, you were simply there for him through thick and thin. From the early days of his hockey career to then, as he’d become a big name in the NHL, you saw every success and setback, always giving him your unwavering support and encouragement.

Your bond with the Devils' star player was definitely something special, built on trust, mutual respect, and shared experiences. Together, you faced the ups and downs of life in the spotlight, as well as found solace in each other's company amidst the chaos of the hockey world.

And to put it bluntly, it wasn’t uncommon for people to mistake you as a couple. Although you tried not to post anything on social media, rumours often circulated. Even family members assumed there was something more to the story when he brought you over at almost every holiday family gathering. However, you were nothing more than his best girl friend. Which to him was probably the highest status one could ever get.

Despite Jack's busy schedule and the demands of his career, you just always remained a constant presence in his life, providing stability and comfort. Whether it was cheering him on from the stands at games or simply being there to listen after a tough loss, you were always there when he needed you most.

You even saw every girl who tried their luck with him, and all of them failed to stick around. Though you weren’t really sure why that was always the case. To you Jack was a good guy, busy sure, but good overall and anyone would be lucky to be with him. However, you could also understand that often his demanding lifestyle simply became too much for anyone to handle. And after every time he showed up at your place, you were the support he needed through every breakup.

And Jack cherished your friendship immensely. With you, he could be himself without any pretence, knowing that you'd accept him exactly as he was. He could put on a facade and a guard for the rest of the world, but with you, he knew it was of no use. You always saw right through him, for better or for worse.

So, when Jack invited you to join him at the Devils’ team event, it wasn't a surprise to anyone. Spending such time together had become second nature to you both, a cherished ritual that brought comfort and joy. You'd even spent so much time with his teammates that a lot of them had grown to be your close friends as well. They were almost like the protective brothers you'd never had.

And you, of course, accepted his invitation without hesitation. So, as you got ready for the event together, you felt a sense of excitement in the air, anticipating a night filled with laughter, camaraderie, and maybe even something more.

**

Jack stood in front of the mirror, his face displaying frustration as he attempted to knot his tie once again. Though it was something he'd often do before a match, tonight it just didn’t seem to work out for him. The smooth fabric slipped through his fingers, refusing to cooperate despite his repeated attempts. But then, with a soft sigh, he caught a glimpse of your reflection in the doorway, a knowing smile adorning your face.

"Struggling there?" you teased, slowly moving closer to him.

Turning to you, Jack looked relieved. "Actually, yes. Could you help me with my tie?" His voice held a touch of embarrassment, a contrast to his usual confidence on the ice, which made you chuckle softly.

"Of course," you replied, closing the gap between you and reaching for the silk tie. Your fingers skilfully worked the fabric into a perfect knot in no time. And as you adjusted it, your eyes met his in the mirror, and there was an unexpected shift between you, an unspoken understanding hanging in the air.

Then once Jack had sorted his tie, his gaze lingered on you, admiring the elegant lines of your evening dress, and he simply couldn't look away, struck by how stunning you appeared.

"Wow, you look amazing, y/n/n," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

A blush crept onto your cheeks at his compliment, a soft smile forming in response. But before you could form a reply, though, you remembered the zipper on your dress.

"Actually, I could use your help too," you confessed, your voice barely audible. Turning slightly, you presented your back to him, feeling a tiny surge of nerves at the intimacy of the request.

And without hesitation, Jack moved closer, his presence sending a wave of anticipation through you. His hands brushed lightly against your skin as he reached for the zipper, the gentle touch surprisingly sparking some kind of awareness between you.

As his fingers softly traced your back, you felt an unfamiliar desire stirring within you, drawing you both a little closer together. And unintentionally, you leaned in a little closer to him, prompting him to gently rest his palms on your waist, as for a brief moment, time stood still, and you admired each other in the mirror.

It was a moment of soft intimacy hanging in the air, and you couldn’t deny that thoughts were starting to form in your mind. Thoughts that had been there before, yet you always just shook them off, as you didn’t believe they’d mean anything - Was there truly nothing more between you and Jack, or had you been fooling yourselves this whole time?

However, with the evening's urgency weighing on both of you, the passing seconds reminded you of the time slipping away. And with a small sigh, Jack reluctantly pulled away, his hands lingering for a moment longer before he finally zipped up your dress.

"We should probably head out," he said, a hint of regret in his voice.

And you nodded in agreement, carefully stepping away from him. Yet, despite the pressing schedule, the electric tension between you remained, silently hinting at what perhaps could be.

**

As the night progressed, Jack found himself unable to shake the growing feelings in his heart. And if anything, they only seemed to deepen with each passing moment, fuelled by seeing you effortlessly mingling with the other guests at the event.

"She's looking good, huh?" Luke's voice suddenly snapped Jack out of his thoughts, bringing him back to reality.

"Yeah, she really does..." he replied softly, his gaze still fixed on you from across the room, drawn in by the warmth of your smile.

And Luke couldn’t suppress his amusement and grinned knowingly, nudging Jack with a playful elbow. "So, are you going to make a move or what?"

"What do you mean?" Jack pretended innocence, though his eyes revealed the truth of his emotions.

And Luke had to roll his eyes, not buying Jack's act. "Come on, man, you're practically drooling over her right now."

"I'm not drooling... I'm just admiring how great my best friend looks..." Jack tried to defend himself, but he knew it was futile.

"Sure, sure, but we both know that you're totally checking her out!" Luke laughed, finding the situation more than amusing.

For months, if not years, Luke had had a bet with Quinn about when you and Jack would finally admit your feelings for each other. And not just as best friends. It was obvious to everyone how both of you always tried to act calm and nonchalant, however, there were often hints of something lingering in the back of your minds. Yet, none of you took the step to admit it.

And amidst the brotherly banter, Nico suddenly interrupted with a grin at the sight of their exchange. "What's going on? Who's checking out who?"

"Oh, just Jack ogling y/n," Luke teased, earning a chuckle from Nico.

"I'm not... ogling her!" Jack protested, though the teasing only fuelled his growing attraction.

"Well, I wouldn't blame you if you were. I mean, she looks really hot tonight," Nico chimed in with a mischievous grin. "I mean, if you don't make a move on her, someone else might."

And those words seemed to hit Jack like a splash of cold water, stirring a hint of jealousy in his gut at the thought of someone else showing interest in you. Especially a teammate of his. It was as if it was the push he needed to finally gather the courage to act on his true feelings.

So, as the event neared its end, Jack started to feel a little nervous about speaking his mind, which wasn’t usual for him. But as he prepared to bid farewell, determination surged within him. He simply couldn't let the night pass without expressing his feelings, without taking a chance on what could be.

Standing by the exit of the venue, Jack took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to say. He then reached out, gently taking your hand in his, sending a jolt of electricity through you with his touch.

"Y/n, there's something I need to tell you," he began, his voice trembling slightly with nerves. "Tonight... tonight was different for me.”

“Jack, what do you mean?” you flashed him a crooked smile, slightly unsure what he was trying to say.

“I mean, I think… I think I realised that I have feelings for you, more than just friendship."

His words hung in the air, the weight of them palpable. And as you looked at him, your heart was beating faster than you’d ever experienced. You had to swallow hard as you processed his confession. But then he continued.

"I know this might come as a surprise, and I completely understand if you don't feel the same way," he added with a crooked smile, his gaze searching yours for any hint of a response. "But I couldn't let tonight end without at least trying to tell you how I fe-"

Interrupting him with a surge of confidence, you reached up and tenderly held his face in your hands, pulling him into a gentle kiss. And in that moment, as your lips were connected, Jack felt a rush of emotion engulf him, a sense of completeness and contentment unlike anything he had ever known.

There was a comfortable warmth spreading through him as his mind processed your actions, and though almost completely frozen, he still managed to respond with his hands finding your hips.

And as you slowly parted from the kiss, his heart couldn’t stop racing with a mix of excitement and relief. He looked into your eyes, trying his best to read your thoughts.

"Y/n, I... I," he started, uncertainty evident in his voice.

But you simply smiled softly, your fingers tracing his cheek. "Jack, I've been feeling the same way," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just didn't know how to say it."

Relief flooded through Jack, his tension easing as he released a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. "Really?" he asked, disbelief tinting his voice.

You nodded, a shy smile gracing your lips. "Yes, really."

And suddenly, it was like a giant wave of happiness washed over Jack, filling him with a warmth he hadn't felt in ages. Without another word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go.

"Shit, then I’m really happy I told you," he murmured into your hair, his voice brimming with gratitude.

"Me too," you replied with a light chuckle, planting a kiss on his chest. "I've wanted to tell you for so long, but I just didn’t want to risk… you know, our friendship in case you didn’t feel the same."

“Yeah… I guess I’ve just sort of realised… sorry it took so long,” he added with a sweet chuckle.

“Oh, you know, better late than never.”

And wrapped in each other's embrace, Jack knew this was where you belonged. Looking into your eyes, he vowed to do whatever it took to make you happy, to build a future together filled with love and laughter.

Meanwhile, a few feet away, Luke and Nico observed the sweet interaction between the two of you. And with a heartfelt chuckle, Luke turned to Nico with a smug expression.

“Guess I can call Quinn and tell him I won the bet then.”

“What was the bet on?” Nico inquired with a chuckle.

“Oh, just that he said they wouldn’t admit anything before one of them was in a serious relationship,” Luke explained. “But I didn’t think they’d ever get that far.”

“And clearly, you were right,” the captain let out a deep laugh.

[gypsyshifts]

Sam Monroe Headcannons

SFW

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪  ౨ৎ˚₊⤇ Sam’s love language is definitely in his music. Whether it’s sharing headphones during lunch or blasting music in his room while cutting up shirts with intricate designs like skulls or spiders for a night out in the city.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪  ౨ৎ˚₊⤇ Whenever the blue in his hair starts to fade he’d invite you over to re-dye it, and his dad gets so pissed because the both of you get dye all over the floors and sink.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪  ౨ৎ˚₊⤇  You’d ask him if he would pierce your bottom lip and he would refuse everytime because he doesn’t want you to get hurt from the piercing getting infected or smt (HOW ADORABLE IS HE OMLLLL?!?!), but eventually after weeks of asking he finally caved and it looked so good, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪  ౨ৎ˚₊⤇ After he started helping his dad build the house you’d come over with snacks and drinks for them, and maybe occasionally will help break some walls down with a giant crowbar.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪  ౨ৎ˚₊⤇ You guys often walk down to the beach at night and have a quick smoke sesh 

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪  ౨ৎ˚₊⤇ Before you started dating, Sam was extremely closed off and distant, i mean you really only talked when Josh brought you along with him to lunch. You liked how snarky Sam was when Josh tried to bribe him into doing something with weed or money, it was hilarious seeing Josh get stood up to once in a while. After that you would go up to Sam during your free period, complimenting him and his style, trying in any way to actually get him to talk to you. He didn’t quite like you at first because of who you surround yourself with, but in due time, the both of you grew close. You’d hang out during school, or walk around town at night, even skip school together. He found himself getting comfortable around you, same with you. 

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪  ౨ৎ˚₊⤇ You mustered up the courage to ask him out one day (I’ll write this if anyone wants it). You were both high so it made it easier. Sam was leaning back on his bed in a slutty little mesh top, taking a drag of the joint in between his painted fingers. All of the sudden the question just came out. “Sam. Do you wanna go out with me?” He looked genuinely surprised for the first time in a while. Of course, he obliged, taking you in his arms. The rest of the night was peacefully silent, lying in eachothers arms.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪  ౨ৎ˚₊⤇ Usually after a first date, there’s many dates after. With each, you grew more and more attached to Sam. The time you spent with him, which was basically every minute of the day, was sensational in every way. Sam asked you to be his girlfriend after around 2 months, only because you kept dropping hints for him to ask, plus he was way too nervous and overthinked the whole question. His brain wondered if you actually liked him, and if so why? Was it truly him you loved or just a facade he puts on sometimes. In reality you truly loved every bit of him and felt truly exempted with him.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪  ౨ৎ˚₊⤇ We all know Sam loves his drugs, but when he tries to numb everything out and life gets to much, he really just needs somebody to lie down with and rest his eyes with or talk nonsense. Somebody being you of course, you help him sober up for a while and if he needs to talk for a while, you’re always there by his side listening, softly running your fingers through his curls or rubbing his back comfortingly as you let him know that you will always be there for him. (P.S. HE IS SUCH A PRETTY CRIERRRR)

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪  ౨ৎ˚₊⤇ Sam does the same thing for you when you’re struggling with your mental health. He listens to you talk, whispering that he loves you. He’ll kiss your forehead or cheeks very gently and caress your face if you need him to wipe tears away. It physically hurts him to see you sad or hurting because of his love for you. So when you come to him with a problem, he makes sure to take care of it before it causes any problems.˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪  ౨ৎ˚₊⤇ Getting into fights with Sam is guaranteed. However, you both don’t like going to sleep angry so he’ll try his best to make amends with you. If it was a small thing, you could easily get over it. If not it takes a bit longer, but you do work it out together.

THANK YOU FOR READING CHATTTT!!!! If you want nsfw version of this or any xreader fics my requests are open. -Love, Gypsy

Template from @ianrkives

[monstersflashlight]

Patreon Commission for Shy

Out of jealousy (part 3): disaster date

Orc (Hodei) x fem!reader || sfw, tooth-rooting fluff, kind of suggestive

“Let’s have a date,” he says in a random Wednesday.

You are chilling in your living room, he was scrolling through his phone as you worked on some crafts you’d been procrastinating on for a while. Having a thousand hobbies is great in theory, but when you want to do everything… you end up doing nothing. But you’ve been pretty consistent with your embroidery lately, currently working on a piece for Hodei’s mom’s birthday.

“What?” You ask absently. You had been too focused to fully process what he just said.

“We’ve done a lot of things together,” the way his voice drops at the end makes you blush remembering some of those things… but he continues. “But I haven’t taken you to a proper date, yet.” You stop what you are doing and look at him, confused.

“What do you mean? You cooked me dinner last night.” Even if we didn’t get to eat it till much later, you add in your brain with a little smile.

He’s right that you spent most of your time indoors, most precisely inside your room or his room, but you like his company in general, so it’s just nice to have him share space with you when you are doing mundane stuff.

He sighs, as if he’s reading your mind. “But I mean a real date. One where I take you out and you put on a nice dress so I can drool over you as we have dinner.” His smirk is framed by his shiny tusks and your brain short-circuits for a second, he’s so fucking beautiful.

You blink twice before responding, in the only way you can: teasingly. “You drool over me when I’m wearing pajamas, dude,” you joke with a chuckle.

He doesn’t laugh, just looks down with a light redness in his cheeks. You know you are right, you’ve seen him looking at you with hunger every time you wear one of his shirts to walk around the house. You’ve felt his reaction to that, too… Very deep inside of you.

He blushes harder and then stutters his response: “I know… I do. It’s just… I just…” You look at him, studying his posture and the way he’s looking down like something is worrying him for real.

“What’s the matter?” You ask him, forgetting about your teasing.

“You went out with him, but you’ve never been out with me.” He finally lets out, his voice soft and pained. Fuck.

“What do you mean?”

He takes a few deep breaths and finally looks up, locking eyes with you. “I- You-,” he stutters. Then he tries again after another long breath: “That first night you went out on a dinner with him and then I fucked it up and it hadn’t occurred to me that you might like those kind of fancy dinners where I take you to a restaurant and we eat overpriced food and then share a piece of cake for dessert.”

“You don’t share dessert,” you say without thinking, your brain not fast enough to process the rest of his words.

“I don’t. But… I’ll do it with you,” he says, a tiny smile hiding in the corner of his lips.

That does surprise you. You’ve seen him do a lot of things through all the years you’ve known each other, but never, never, has he shared his food with anybody. Especially his dessert. He has the sweetest tooth in the universe.

“You’d share your dessert with me?!” You almost scream, your voice high pitched as your heart skips a beat.

“Why do you look so surprised? Of course I would!” He looks annoyed at your reaction, and you almost burst out in giggles because of the face he’s making, as if he’s smelling the worst cauliflower in the world.

“Dude… You… You love me,” you let out in a rush, completely blown away by the realization.

He frowns at you, stunned by your words. “What? Of course I do, I told you that. Multiple times.” He definitely had, telling you how much he loves you every chance he got. And you love him back, but the reality of it didn’t click until that exact moment.

“Yeah, yeah… You have but it just hit me. You really love me.” You look at him still blown away. “I- I’ll go on a date with you,” you finally say. The smile he gives you in return is so big and so precious you know you’d do anything to see it every day for the rest of your life. “I love you, too,” you add in a soothing tone.

Two days later you are getting dressed in an uncomfortable dress that makes your ass look incredible but also squeezes your boobs in a way that makes breathing harder, when he smirks at you. You’ll endure dinner for him, you will…

You are trying to give yourself a pep talk as you tie your sandals around your ankles and he gets out of the bathroom with black dress pants and a white shirt that makes his forearms look indecent when he rolls his sleeves up. You want nothing more than to call off dinner and eat him instead, but he’s so excited… fuck.

He drives you to a nice restaurant, kind of fancy but not fancy enough to be horrible to stand around. Still… The dinner is a disaster.

The first course is cold, and you have to ask the server to reheat it. The food is mediocre, and the drinks are very mild. There’s a kid crying somewhere in the restaurant, and the table next to you has the most obnoxious ogre in existence, laughing too loud, cutting his partner’s speech halfway to add stupid remarks… Overall, it’s just a bad evening.

And it’s getting to him. And to you.

You can barely talk over the noise of other conversations (and the awful ogre). Your feet hurt and your boobs are starting to feel itchy because they’ve been so confined in the dress. You still feel a bit better when he looks down at them and licks his lips, but you still aren’t having a good time.

And neither is he.

He gets up to get to the bathroom and you follow, his eyes were sad half the time you were in the restaurant, and every time you look at him your heart beats erratically. He looks amazing, but his mood is souring as time passes, and it’s making your own mood go downhill.

“Hodei, hey!” You call after him. He stops mid hallway. There’s nobody around and you catch up with him, but he takes a step back when you try to hug his middle. You try to act as if it doesn’t hurt you deeply, but you understand it.

“I’m so sorry this night was even worse than the last date you went to,” he lets out half choked. You feel your heart get all gooey for your big soft orc.

“Come here,” you tell him, grabbing his hand and pulling his body to yours. You are looking up at his warm eyes when you say very slowly: “I don’t care about fancy dates or restaurants, I only care about you. I love doing stuff with you, doesn’t matter what… We can go to the fanciest restaurant, or we can stay at home for hours sharing silence, I don’t care as long as you are there with me, understood?” He nods softly, but you aren’t convinced he truly understands. “I love you, you’re my best friend, my mate.” The last word makes him growl, a big smile spreading on his face as he grabs your waist and lifts you up until he can kiss you, deep and sensual.

“Say that again,” he says against your ear. Your legs are hanging and his hands are squeezing your butt in a very non-public acceptable way.

So instead of obeying, you ask him: “Take me home?” His tusks rubbing your cheeks in the most delicious way as he leans down to give you another short kiss.

You smile at him, leaning to bite his lower lip softly, and his growl makes you whimper. You see the exact second his mind changes and he stops caring about anything else. “I’ll ask for the check,” he says putting you down.

“What about dessert?” You asks with a chuckle.

“We taking it with us!” He says over his shoulder, marching to the waitress with his card already in his hand.

Needless to say, you do share a piece of chocolate cake… in your room… licking it off his abs and then tongue-feeding parts of it to him as he pants beneath you.

[whiskis]

Patreon Commission for Shy

Out of jealousy (part 3): disaster date

Orc (Hodei) x fem!reader || sfw, tooth-rooting fluff, kind of suggestive

“Let’s have a date,” he says in a random Wednesday.

You are chilling in your living room, he was scrolling through his phone as you worked on some crafts you’d been procrastinating on for a while. Having a thousand hobbies is great in theory, but when you want to do everything… you end up doing nothing. But you’ve been pretty consistent with your embroidery lately, currently working on a piece for Hodei’s mom’s birthday.

“What?” You ask absently. You had been too focused to fully process what he just said.

“We’ve done a lot of things together,” the way his voice drops at the end makes you blush remembering some of those things… but he continues. “But I haven’t taken you to a proper date, yet.” You stop what you are doing and look at him, confused.

“What do you mean? You cooked me dinner last night.” Even if we didn’t get to eat it till much later, you add in your brain with a little smile.

He’s right that you spent most of your time indoors, most precisely inside your room or his room, but you like his company in general, so it’s just nice to have him share space with you when you are doing mundane stuff.

He sighs, as if he’s reading your mind. “But I mean a real date. One where I take you out and you put on a nice dress so I can drool over you as we have dinner.” His smirk is framed by his shiny tusks and your brain short-circuits for a second, he’s so fucking beautiful.

You blink twice before responding, in the only way you can: teasingly. “You drool over me when I’m wearing pajamas, dude,” you joke with a chuckle.

He doesn’t laugh, just looks down with a light redness in his cheeks. You know you are right, you’ve seen him looking at you with hunger every time you wear one of his shirts to walk around the house. You’ve felt his reaction to that, too… Very deep inside of you.

He blushes harder and then stutters his response: “I know… I do. It’s just… I just…” You look at him, studying his posture and the way he’s looking down like something is worrying him for real.

“What’s the matter?” You ask him, forgetting about your teasing.

“You went out with him, but you’ve never been out with me.” He finally lets out, his voice soft and pained. Fuck.

“What do you mean?”

He takes a few deep breaths and finally looks up, locking eyes with you. “I- You-,” he stutters. Then he tries again after another long breath: “That first night you went out on a dinner with him and then I fucked it up and it hadn’t occurred to me that you might like those kind of fancy dinners where I take you to a restaurant and we eat overpriced food and then share a piece of cake for dessert.”

“You don’t share dessert,” you say without thinking, your brain not fast enough to process the rest of his words.

“I don’t. But… I’ll do it with you,” he says, a tiny smile hiding in the corner of his lips.

That does surprise you. You’ve seen him do a lot of things through all the years you’ve known each other, but never, never, has he shared his food with anybody. Especially his dessert. He has the sweetest tooth in the universe.

“You’d share your dessert with me?!” You almost scream, your voice high pitched as your heart skips a beat.

“Why do you look so surprised? Of course I would!” He looks annoyed at your reaction, and you almost burst out in giggles because of the face he’s making, as if he’s smelling the worst cauliflower in the world.

“Dude… You… You love me,” you let out in a rush, completely blown away by the realization.

He frowns at you, stunned by your words. “What? Of course I do, I told you that. Multiple times.” He definitely had, telling you how much he loves you every chance he got. And you love him back, but the reality of it didn’t click until that exact moment.

“Yeah, yeah… You have but it just hit me. You really love me.” You look at him still blown away. “I- I’ll go on a date with you,” you finally say. The smile he gives you in return is so big and so precious you know you’d do anything to see it every day for the rest of your life. “I love you, too,” you add in a soothing tone.

Two days later you are getting dressed in an uncomfortable dress that makes your ass look incredible but also squeezes your boobs in a way that makes breathing harder, when he smirks at you. You’ll endure dinner for him, you will…

You are trying to give yourself a pep talk as you tie your sandals around your ankles and he gets out of the bathroom with black dress pants and a white shirt that makes his forearms look indecent when he rolls his sleeves up. You want nothing more than to call off dinner and eat him instead, but he’s so excited… fuck.

He drives you to a nice restaurant, kind of fancy but not fancy enough to be horrible to stand around. Still… The dinner is a disaster.

The first course is cold, and you have to ask the server to reheat it. The food is mediocre, and the drinks are very mild. There’s a kid crying somewhere in the restaurant, and the table next to you has the most obnoxious ogre in existence, laughing too loud, cutting his partner’s speech halfway to add stupid remarks… Overall, it’s just a bad evening.

And it’s getting to him. And to you.

You can barely talk over the noise of other conversations (and the awful ogre). Your feet hurt and your boobs are starting to feel itchy because they’ve been so confined in the dress. You still feel a bit better when he looks down at them and licks his lips, but you still aren’t having a good time.

And neither is he.

He gets up to get to the bathroom and you follow, his eyes were sad half the time you were in the restaurant, and every time you look at him your heart beats erratically. He looks amazing, but his mood is souring as time passes, and it’s making your own mood go downhill.

“Hodei, hey!” You call after him. He stops mid hallway. There’s nobody around and you catch up with him, but he takes a step back when you try to hug his middle. You try to act as if it doesn’t hurt you deeply, but you understand it.

“I’m so sorry this night was even worse than the last date you went to,” he lets out half choked. You feel your heart get all gooey for your big soft orc.

“Come here,” you tell him, grabbing his hand and pulling his body to yours. You are looking up at his warm eyes when you say very slowly: “I don’t care about fancy dates or restaurants, I only care about you. I love doing stuff with you, doesn’t matter what… We can go to the fanciest restaurant, or we can stay at home for hours sharing silence, I don’t care as long as you are there with me, understood?” He nods softly, but you aren’t convinced he truly understands. “I love you, you’re my best friend, my mate.” The last word makes him growl, a big smile spreading on his face as he grabs your waist and lifts you up until he can kiss you, deep and sensual.

“Say that again,” he says against your ear. Your legs are hanging and his hands are squeezing your butt in a very non-public acceptable way.

So instead of obeying, you ask him: “Take me home?” His tusks rubbing your cheeks in the most delicious way as he leans down to give you another short kiss.

You smile at him, leaning to bite his lower lip softly, and his growl makes you whimper. You see the exact second his mind changes and he stops caring about anything else. “I’ll ask for the check,” he says putting you down.

“What about dessert?” You asks with a chuckle.

“We taking it with us!” He says over his shoulder, marching to the waitress with his card already in his hand.

Needless to say, you do share a piece of chocolate cake… in your room… licking it off his abs and then tongue-feeding parts of it to him as he pants beneath you.