#my taste in english songs is questionable but i love they

[arolesbianism]

Breakcore may not be a super strictly defined genre but I swear ppl will call anything that has noises at all like y'know music has like just normal ass music from any other genre breakcore with a straight face and I just have to sit there and try to not reveal I'm a pretentious fuck when it comes to this stuff

[brazilian-vampyra]

៹ ☆ MUSIC TO FUCK TO ! ꞌꞋ ࣪

(english)

⟡— synopsis: songs that jujutsu characters would listen to while having sex with you.

⟡— characters: nanami kento, gojo satoru, geto suguru, choso kamo, ryomen sukuna and toji fushiguro.

⟡— warnings: raw sex (please use condoms), rough sex, breeding kink, dacryphilia, oral, fingering, male dom, praising kink, hair pulling, degradation kink, alcohol use (only mentioned), size kink, fem!reader.

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜 𝗞𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗢 𖹭︐

IT IS COMMON SENSE to agree that this man exudes elegance and luxury, in addition to having refined taste — despite his life as a salaryman.

Kento likes to enjoy quality time where he can relax and rest listening to something peaceful, real music for his discerning ears. So he bought a rustic record player in a vintage store that had opened downtown. With that, he could leave the music boxes and headphones aside, enjoying the various vinyls that were on the shelf in his living room.

He loves jazz and blues.

It was a peaceful Friday night, and his apartment was quiet, with the record player playing. You just had a few glasses of wine and enjoyed some cuddling on the black leather sofa. But every time you took a sip of the expensive wine, the contents seemed to go down your throat and straight to your legs.

It seems that your favorite blonde felt the same way, and it didn't take long for the innocent late-night caresses to evolve into heated, intimate touches.

Now you were in the bedroom. Your back was on the comfortable mattress and your hands gripped the silk sheets as your boyfriend held your legs on his shoulders. He held on tight, moving his hips against you. Your clothes were scattered around the house and you were completely surrendered to the heat, feeling it hit your core perfectly.

Nanami's hoarse moans were mixed with the sensual notes of "Sometimes I'm Right" by Hubert Sumlin.

The blonde held your legs, close to the knees, at the end of your thighs, keeping you still so he could be more precise with his hips. His beautiful eyes seemed to look into your soul, intoxicated by the growing desire that made your heart race. The dim orange light from the bedside lamp shone on his athletic body, giving you a perfect view of those muscles.

━━ B-Babe... please... stop torturing me... — you asked in a plea, for him to move his hips faster.

A hoarse, sarcastic soft laugh left his lips.

━━ Oh kitten, you have to stop being so hasty... — he placed a hot, sensual kiss on your ankle. ━━ You know me, you know I like to taste every little part of you...

This was an absolute truth. For him, it didn't matter if the sex was going to be slow and sensual or rough and fast. The most important thing was to be able to enjoy every last second with you in that intimate moment.

At a certain point he moved his hips a little further and then thrust in quickly, all at once. This time you cried out in pleasure.

━━ Always being a good girl, taking my cock so fucking well...

This blonde was madly in love with you.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𖹭︐

WE CAN ALL AGREE that this man is one of the most promiscuous on Earth, right?

The strongest have a very strong sexual aura, and all women — even some men — wondered what it must be like to sleep with Satoru. That was a question you never wondered for long, as he had developed a notable interest in you.

He can make jokes all day long, he can take some situations in a more playful way and all that stuff, but when it comes to sex he is super serious. Although life seems simple for the strongest sorcerer in the world, he gets stressed about a lot of things on a daily basis, and there is no one who can help him relieve all of that as well as you can.

You've already fucked in many places, listening to the most varied artists, but in more intimate moments there is a specific artist that he likes to listen to more than the others: Two Feet.

Maybe it was because of the melodic tone, or the acidic guitar notes, or even his engaging voice, but Gojo loved listening to him.

Now you are in the bathroom, listening to "Love Is a Bitch".

Your back was against the tiled wall, and the ideal temperature hot water ran down your bodies, while your boyfriend held your thighs, getting support so he could thrust his hips slowly. You moaned against each other's parted lips, and he sucked your lower lip shamelessly. The steam from the hot water filled the room, along with your moans and the sounds of this sensual melody.

Although the sex wasn't rough this time, it was slow and deep. He could make your mind go wild by moving his hips like that.

━━ Hell yeah, babe... that feels so fucking good...

He groaned in your ear, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he slid his hands down to your ass and squeezed.

━━ I can't get enough of you- ugh! S-Satoru... please...

Hearing this he bit the sensitive skin on your neck, making you whimper louder. He felt the soft taste of the chamomile soap that he had rubbed over your body with a soft sponge a few minutes ago.

You didn't let this go unpunished and brought a hand to the back of his neck, grabbing the wet white strands, pulling a little, making those piercing blue eyes look into your irises. A mischievous smile was plastered on his lips.

━━ You'll be the death of me someday...

The sorcerer wasn't lying every time he said you were his strongest weakness.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗢 𝗦𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗨 𖹭︐

THIS MAN IS much more reclusive when it comes to his particularities. But you noticed that he was almost always smoking around, while wearing his headphones and having black strands of hair thrown across his face.

Maybe it was hard to tell what he liked to hear, he was so quiet. His voice was soft, he wasn't as "scandalous" as Gojo Satoru, Geto was always a guy who had his own vibe. However, he really liked listening to rock, especially alternative and indie.

You started getting closer when he saw you in the park, it was summer and you were under his favorite tree, reading a book you had gotten from the library and listening to some music on your headphones. He had no problem "sharing" his favorite space with someone else.

There was the beginning of your friendship with that beautiful boy with siren eyes. And it didn't take long for this friendship to evolve into a beautiful relationship — thanks to a little help from Satoru.

It was now a rainy afternoon in the city, not as cold as it seemed. You were lying on his bed, your panties were probably on top of some random pillow and he had his head buried between your legs. Drops of rain wet the window glass and you saw the wind ruffle the leaves of the trees, but you couldn't pay much attention while he was eating you out.

There was something very addictive about your pussy, something that not even he could say what it was, but he was on his knees for it. Literally.

"Knee Socks" by the band Arctic Monkeys was playing.

You were wearing one of Geto's shirts, which had the fabric pulled up, exposing your stomach and breasts. White socks that reached just above your knee covered your legs, which were draped over his shoulders.

━━ Uhmm... this pussy is so fucking delicious, darling — he groaned against your body, while his skillful tongue worked on you.

Suguru's soft lips also moved in sync, making you want to close your legs. You pressed your thighs against his head and you could feel him smile against your sensitive skin. Immediately those big cold ringed hands of his went to the sides of your thighs, squeezing a little and holding them open so he could rub his face there.

━━ S-Suguru! Yes, babe! Yes!

You screamed slyly, taking a hand to his soft, long black hair, squeezing and pulling a little. He really liked that and would never deny it.

━━ Like this?

He asked, in a hushed tone of voice, as you felt him slide two fingers on your wet sex and penetrate, sliding easily, curved slightly upwards to reach a spot that made you scream. He used his mouth again, but this time on your clit as the rhythmic chords of the music played, mixing with your needy moans, his muffled moans and the erotic, wet sounds.

This man is your deepest desire.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢 𖹭︐

THIS HELL OF A MAN is a walking question mark. He really was a big unknown, but unfortunately — or luckily — for him, you loved solving puzzles.

Toji wasn't the most "difficult" person you had ever met, but he was certainly the most reserved. He didn't talk about the past, about life, he didn't express his feelings, he didn't share personal tastes and there was no way he would spit out the secrets he carried behind his frown. But, despite everything, that wall of muscles could talk about some things that wouldn't expose his particularities so much.

For example, you once brought up a topic about musical taste, a very vague and silly subject, but it was the starting point for you to approach him. Yes, it was much more varied and had much more culture than you expected.

It was perfectly eclectic.

He really liked listening to music when he was fucking too. You were in his room, with the neon light on, not too strong and not too weak, illuminating the room and your features in a shade of blue mixed with purple. The soft bed's sheets were a little wet due to the obscene and intimate acts being performed on top.

You were on all fours, your palms and knees serving as support so you were comfortable. It was playing "Hotel" by Montell Fish.

Toji was right behind you, with that beautiful physique exposed and illuminated by the neon light, that made everything more arousing. He thrust his hips roughly against your ass, and this caused the erotic sound of your bodies to echo throughout the room. His big, strong hands were holding your waist tightly; maybe it would leave some marks.

━━ Now that's a pussy... hmm... so fuckin' tight around my cock, am I too big for your poor little hole to handle, my angel?

He practically growled, followed by a rude laugh, in a bitter tone.

━━ I-I can handle! — you replied, in a desperate tone, lowering your head a little.

Immediately Fushiguro took one hand from your waist and reached for your hair, holding it in a sloppy way. This caused you to whimper and look at the huge mirror there.

━━ No, no. Don't look away... keep watching the way I ruin you!

You would be completely destroyed afterwards, but it would be so worth it, just like it was every time before.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗢 𝗞𝗔𝗠𝗢 𖹭︐

HAVING A SHY BOYFRIEND could be difficult for other people, but it wasn't so much for you. It's okay when you approached him you didn't have much to talk about, since he didn't do "mundane" things like everyone else did.

Curses generally didn't listen to music or watch cartoons and go to parties, as is normal to see human beings doing. He was also very inexperienced in several aspects, because despite having centuries of years, he didn't do much and didn't interact with people in general.

But he had no problem learning from you.

You introduced Choso to music little by little, first you started by showing him what you liked and then you started introducing him to what he might like. This worked out really well, as little by little he began to accept this as something natural and listened to music more frequently.

Kamo discovered that he really likes rock and metal, and is now willing to learn how to play the guitar. Maybe that's a topic for another time, the most important thing is what you were doing at that moment.

The song "Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want" was playing, it was originally by The Smiths, but the version that flooded the room was by Deftones. He had put together a playlist full of songs with this theme that walked a fine line between being horny or going into depression.

You were riding him in reverse cowgirl. The elastics that held Choso's hair had come loose a long time ago and now he had his black hair loose, framing his face. He was panting and begging beneath you, his hands on your hips, squeezing your ass a little, watching as you moved it up and down at a slow yet very satisfying pace.

Since he was still a bit inexperienced, he had no problem letting you be in charge most of the time. And you loved having the honor of being on top of that beautiful and arousing man. You could hear the sound of your bodies along with your boyfriend's moans and the whimpers of the Deftones singer, as well as the distorted guitar riffs.

Without any prior warning, you began to move your body faster.

━━ F-Fuck, my love! If you keep this up I'm gonna cum inside of you! — he whimpered as you felt his cock twitch against your walls.

━━ But that's exactly what I want, silly.

You looked back with a wicked smile on your lips, seeing his pale cheeks completely flushed and his strong chest going up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗥𝗬𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗡 𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗨𝗡𝗔 𖹭︐

THE GREAT KING OF CURSES was an ambitious man, who desired greatness and power at all times. He did not accept anything that was different from the standard he was used to receiving as a powerful and feared entity.

He was not at all monogamous, he was used to having several women in what would have been a harem. He was insatiable, a ferocious beast who depended on sex as one of his main sources of fuel. However, now Sukuna had to get used to the modern world, whether he wanted to or not.

Curses were no longer respected or feared, as sorcerers were on hand to fight them. By the irony of fate, you ended up crossing paths and since that day there was no concubine to feed his desires, he only wanted you. Despite the countless declarations of love coming from him and all his talk, you weren't easy.

You didn't sleep easily with anyone, even more if this person was him.

But he was a trickster, he wasn't the king of curses for nothing. He approached you with that soft talk and that naughty way until you were finally able to create a bond. But flirting with people in the modern era was a bit tricky for a man who had been away for many, many years.

You introduced music to Sukuna, and over time he became more fond of it. He really liked rock and classical music, they were two different extremes, but who were you to question the taste of the king of curses?

Although when he was fucking you he wouldn't listen to Mozart or anything like that.

You were in his castle, in a room filled with the most diverse and luxurious tapestries. There were extremely comfortable cushions and silk sheets everywhere, as well as treasures, pillars and chests. Sukuna was on top of you, his naked body full of symbols a little sweaty and his gaze devouring you.

Your legs were comfortably crossed around his hips, while those strong hands with purple nails grabbed your wrists and pinned them high above your head, leaving you immobilized. He had a rough pace and really loved every little inch of you, every time.

The song "One Of The Girls" by The Weeknd was playing. That song had a very strong sexual atmosphere, and that made him even more likely to fuck you.

You felt some of his pub hair touching your skin every time he moved back and forth with his hips. He was thrusting deep inside you, making you tear up from so much pleasure you were receiving. That was a the best thing in the world for that sadist who found it adorable to see the salty tears running down your hot cheeks as you begged for relief.

He knew he wasn't hurting you — because if you indicated he would stop instantly. You changed Sukuna a lot, took away from him that kingly immediacy that he possessed, and above all consent was sexy as hell.

━━ Baby... I-I don't know if I can cum any more... — you cried out, because he had already made you cum several times today, you didn’t know if your body could take any more.

━━ Aww, are you so sensitive that you are crying, my princess? — a sadistic smile was on his lips while those red eyes seemed to be darker from the lust flowing through his veins.

━━ Y-Yes...

━━ But you are a very obedient princess, and I know I can make you cum again. You don't need to control yourself and give it to me again. I'm only going to stop when this pussy is squirting all over my cock, understood?

He took one hand off your wrist and brought it to your face, squeezing your cheeks a little and making you nod. With your free hand, you pulled him closer to kiss him intensely, making your tongues touch each other in a bold way.

He had found his other half.

[...]

୭ 📂 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄¹: this is my first time posting something in english on tumblr, and as it's not my first language i'd appreciate it if you could correct any grammar mistakes˚. ᵎᵎ

୭ 📂 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄²: all of this is created by me, i do not authorize adaptations or inspirations without credits˚. ᵎᵎ

XOXO, kisses that taste like blood o negative, see you next time little bats 💋

— brazilian-vampyra, 2024.

[theetherealbloom]

YOU'RE THE RISK, I'M GONNA TAKE IT

Summary: You help your boss, Joel Miller, buy flowers for his date. Or so you thought.

Paring: No Outbreak!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: FLUFF, SMUT, Light Angst, Reader Dislikes Roses (i also dislike them :P), Kissing, Cheesy, Crush, Grumpy Single Dad, Office/Workplace Romance, Assistant!Reader, Billionaire!Joel, CEO!Joel, Boss!Joel, She Falls First and He Falls Harder Trope, Grumpy/Sunshine Trope, Idiots-In-Love, Confessions, PWP (wrap it up ya’ll), Fingering, Power Imbalance, Pet Names, ‘Good Girl’, ‘Darlin’,

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: SOOOO WE’VE ALL SEEN THAT PIC RIGHT???? FML, if I ever saw that man carrying flowers and gifting them to me, I would marry him right away. 

This is for @morallyinept Jett’s Flora & Fauna Writing Challenge for May! I was obviously inspired by the picture in the moodboard above and my love for Gracie Abram’s new song Risk! Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated, thank you all for reading and supporting my deluluness tehe.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: Risk by Gracie Abrams

Main Masterlist

In the elegant floral shop, the scent of fresh blooms enveloped you as you stood beside your boss, Joel Miller, a man of many responsibilities and hidden depths. His piercing gaze fixed on a display of vibrant roses, seeking your opinion on a matter close to his heart - choosing the perfect flowers for a date.

Joel, a handsome billionaire with a company to run, a daughter to care for, and a brother to watch over, often sought your counsel on matters both personal and professional. Whether it was a crucial business decision or selecting a gift for Sarah's upcoming birthday, he valued your input more than he let on.

You studied the roses with a critical eye, your brows furrowing slightly as you considered the implications of his choice. "I think Lauren will love it," you finally offered, your voice tinged with a hint of reservation at the mention of Joel's recent romantic interest.

The name 'Lauren' left a bitter taste in your mouth, a woman who seemed more interested in Joel's wealth and status than in him as a person. You couldn't shake the feeling that she was using him for her own gain, and the thought of Joel falling for her facade made your stomach churn.

Joel's keen observation didn't miss the subtle shift in your demeanor. "Why are you makin' that face?" he questioned, his narrowed eyes fixed on you with a mix of curiosity and concern.

Your heart raced at being caught off guard, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "What face?" you attempted to deflect, but Joel saw through your facade with unnerving accuracy.

"The one you make when you don't like somethin'. You're scrunchin' your nose and everythin'," he pointed out, his gesture leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Caught in his perceptive gaze, you struggled to find the right words, knowing that you couldn't deceive him. There was an unspoken connection between you, a bond that transcended the boundaries of employer and assistant, leaving you feeling both exhilarated and unnerved by his proximity.

Joel's expectant gaze bore into you, his hand resting casually on his hip as he awaited your response, a subtle sign of his contemplation or frustration. The air between you crackled with unspoken tension, a silent understanding passing between you as you navigated the delicate dance of honesty and restraint in your shared space.

You settled for the truth, pinching your lips as if you were thinking how to phrase the next few words, eventually meeting his brown eyes and saying, "I don't like roses." The words hung in the air, a confession that felt both liberating and terrifying.

Joel's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. Before he could respond, you cut him off, rambling on in a nervous attempt to clarify your thoughts. "I know, I know, it's just... my preference. It's not that I don't find them pretty... I do. It's just, sometimes it feels like there's no thought into getting someone roses."

You really should shut up, but you couldn't stop, your words tumbling out in a rush. "That's not to say you're not like putting in the effort to get Lauren... roses or something. It's just there's a whole language to flowers and their meaning, and there's definitely more options than just a whole bouquet of roses."

The silence that followed was oppressive, Joel's eyes roaming all over your figure as if taking in every detail. You felt like you were going to vomit, because there was no way you had just told your boss that he wasn't being thoughtful as he was getting the bitch flowers.

"What d'you like then?" Joel's deep voice asked, his tone low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. You took a moment to formulate an answer, your heart racing with anticipation.

"Red Peonies," you swallowed, the words feeling like a revelation.

"Why?" Joel asked, his eyes never leaving yours, and you swear he took a small step closer to you, the distance between you shrinking to almost nothing.

"Besides it representing love, it also represents passion, honour and respect," you explained, trying to sound calm despite the turmoil inside. "There's just something more to it, I guess."

The air was tense, Joel's gaze burning into you like a brand. You felt like you were drowning in the depths of his eyes, the silence between you a palpable thing. You knew you should look away, but you couldn't, your gaze locked onto his as if drawn by an unseen force.

The world around you melted away, leaving only the two of you, suspended in a moment of raw emotion. You knew that you had crossed a line, but you couldn't help the way you felt. The truth was out, and now you just had to face the consequences.

The sharp chime of a phone shattered the charged silence between you, pulling you both back to the reality of the moment. You reluctantly pulled out your phone, a sigh escaping your lips as you delivered the news. "Your 3 p.m. meeting with Bill and Frank is coming up. We should buy those roses and go—"

But before you could finish, Joel interjected, his voice firm yet tinged with a hint of reluctance. "We can come back for them later."

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his sudden change of heart. Quickly regaining your composure, you slipped back into your assistant mode. "I could have them delivered and—"

"Don't worry about it, darlin'," Joel cut you off, his deep Southern drawl sending a shiver down your spine. "Let's go to the damn meeting before Tess starts tellin' me off again."

Without another word, Joel strode towards the waiting car, the driver opening the door as you followed, slipping into the plush leather seat beside him. The tension in the air was palpable, the unspoken emotions between you thick enough to cut with a knife.

As the car pulled away from the curb, you found yourself acutely aware of Joel's presence, his warmth and the subtle scent of his cologne enveloping you. The silence stretched on, neither of you quite sure how to navigate the charged atmosphere that had settled over the two of you.

You stole a glance at Joel, his brow furrowed in thought, his fingers drumming a restless rhythm on the armrest. You longed to reach out, to bridge the gap that had suddenly opened between you, but the weight of your professional relationship held you back.

The drive to the office was a blur, the familiar sights and sounds of the city passing by in a haze as your mind raced with a thousand unspoken thoughts. When the car finally pulled to a stop, you both exited in silence, the weight of the unresolved tension hanging heavy in the air.

As you made your way through the bustling lobby, Joel's hand brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You couldn't help but wonder if the touch was intentional, a silent acknowledgment of the connection that simmered beneath the surface.

But as you turned to leave, Joel's voice stopped you in your tracks. "Darlin'," he murmured, his eyes filled with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. "We need to talk."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you turned to face him, unsure of what could possibly be running through Joel's mind. The intensity of his gaze only added to the butterflies in your stomach, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of hope and trepidation at what he might say.

"What is it, Joel?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

He took a step closer to you, his expression serious as he reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your heart skipped a beat at his touch, and you couldn't help but lean into it.

"I can't ignore this any longer," Joel began, his voice low and full of raw emotion. "I've been trying to fight it, but I can't deny how I feel about you any longer."

Your breath caught in your throat as he spoke those words, a rush of emotions flooding through you. Could it be possible that Joel felt the same way about you? Or was this all just some cruel joke?

"Joel..." You started, but he cut you off with a shake of his head.

"No, let me finish," he said firmly. "Ever since I first laid eyes on you, I haven't been able to get you out of my head. And when we spent that night together at the charity event...I knew then that I had feelings for you."

You were speechless, unable to believe what was happening. You had harbored secret feelings for Joel for so long and never thought they would be reciprocated.

"I know there's the whole boss-assistant dynamic between us," Joel continued with a small self-deprecating smile. "But I can't let that hold me back from telling you how I feel."

A mix of emotions swirled inside you, and you couldn't help but feel torn. On one hand, you wanted to give into the feelings that had been building between you and Joel for so long. But on the other hand, the thought of risking your professional relationship and possibly even your job was a daunting prospect.

"Joel, I-I don't know what to say," you stammered, feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

He reached out and took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You don't have to say anything right now," he said softly. "I just needed to tell you how I feel."

Silence fell between you as you both stood there, lost in your own thoughts. You were torn between what your heart wanted and what your head was telling you was logical.

Finally, after what felt like hours, you gathered the courage to speak again. "Joel, I care about you too," you admitted quietly. "But there are so many complications..."

"I know," he said with a sad smile. "But we can figure it out together."

His words filled you with hope and warmth, but at the same time fear also crept in. You knew that pursuing a romantic relationship with Joel would be risky and could potentially cause problems at work.

Before either of you could say more, there was a knock on Joel's office door. Startled out of your reverie, you both turned to see Chelsea peeking her head inside.

"Hey guys, sorry to interrupt," she said apologetically. "But, Mr. Miller, we have that meeting with McKenna about the upcoming merger in 10 minutes."

After Chelsea left, Joel turned back to you, a hopeful expression on his face. "Can I see you later? Outside of work, I mean."

Your heart raced at the thought of spending more time with him outside of the office. You knew it was risky and could potentially cause problems, but the thrill of taking a chance with Joel was too enticing to resist.

"I'd like that...a lot," you replied, unable to stop a small smile from forming on your lips.

His face lit up at your response and he took a step closer towards you. "Can I kiss you?" he asked hesitantly.

You nodded eagerly. "Yes, please."

Without any hesitation, Joel leaned down and gently pressed his lips against yours. It was a gentle kiss at first, but quickly became more passionate as the chemistry between you two intensified. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss.

Eventually, the need for air forced you both to pull away. You gazed into each other's eyes, both panting slightly from the intensity of the moment.

"I should go," you said reluctantly.

Joel nodded and gave your hand one last squeeze before letting go. "I'll see you later then? I’ll meet you at your place.”

You smiled and nodded before heading out of his office. As you walked back to your own desk, your mind raced with thoughts of Joel and what this could all mean for your future.

Later that evening, as you heard a knock at your door, you couldn't help but feel excited and nervous. You had been thinking about Joel all day and now here he was, standing outside your door with a beautiful bouquet of peonies.

You quickly peeked through the door viewer, confirming that it was indeed Joel standing there. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you took a deep breath and opened the door.

"Hi Sweetheart," he said with his perfect smile, his dimple making an appearance on the left corner of his cheek.

"Hey," you replied with a bashful smile. "Come in."

Joel stepped inside, holding out the vase of peonies towards you. "I brought these for you," he said, his eyes sparkling with affection.

You took them from him and breathed in their sweet scent. "Oh, Joel, you remembered.”

"Anythin’ for you," Joel said with a small grin.

You couldn't help but feel touched by his thoughtfulness. "Thank you for remembering. They're beautiful. Thank you."

He shrugged nonchalantly before turning to take off his shoes. "So what should we do tonight? I can cook us dinner or we could go out somewhere if you prefer."

The idea of Joel cooking for you sounded wonderful, but at the same time, going out together also seemed like an exciting adventure.

"How about we have dinner here tonight and then we can go out tomorrow?" You suggested.

"That sounds perfect," Joel agreed with a smile.

As he prepared dinner in your kitchen, the two of you chatted comfortably about work and other random topics. It felt easy to talk to Joel and be around him, like it was just natural for the two of you to be together.

After enjoying a delicious dinner cooked by Joel (who turned out to be quite the chef), the two of you sat on your couch watching a movie. As the movie played on, you couldn't help but steal glances at Joel, his eyes intense as they flicked between the screen and your face. The air between you crackled with an unspoken tension, the soft glow of the TV casting shadows that danced across his features.

Joel shifted slightly, his arm brushing against yours and sending a shiver down your spine. You turned to him, your heart pounding in your chest, and found yourself caught in his gaze. Without a word, he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

The world around you faded away as Joel's mouth finally met yours in a searing kiss. His hands roamed over your body, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume everything in its path. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more desperate.

You melted into each other, lost in a haze of passion and desire. Clothes were shed in a frenzy of need, skin meeting skin in a symphony of sensation. Joel's touch was electric, sending sparks throughout your body and setting every nerve on fire.

As you lay intertwined on the couch, your breathing heavy and your bodies covered in a thin sheen of sweat, Joel's eyes searched yours intensely.

"I've wanted to do this for so long," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

You couldn't form words as he began trailing kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. His hands explored every inch of your body, worshipping you with his touch.

"I want you," you finally managed to say, arching your back as he grazed his teeth along your collarbone.

With a growl, Joel lifted you up into his arms and carried you to the bedroom. 

He laid you down on the bed with a hunger in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine. His hands roamed over your body, tracing every curve and dip as if he was mapping out his favorite treasure. You moaned softly as his lips grazed over your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

Joel's kisses grew more urgent, more demanding, igniting a primal need within you. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as you whispered his name like a prayer. He captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth with a fierce intensity that made your head spin.

He teased and tormented you with his touch, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your breath hitched as he plunged into you, filling you completely and setting your senses ablaze.

The rhythm between you grew frantic, fueled by a hunger that could not be satisfied. Every thrust brought you closer to the edge, your body yearning for his touch, craving the sweet release that only he could bring.

He whispered filthy words into your ear, his voice gruff and raw with desire. "You want it," he growled, "You need it." His fingers gripped your hips, guiding you onto his shaft with deliberate precision. You groaned, lost in the ecstasy of his touch, your body begging for more.

He kissed you fiercely, his tongue dueling with yours, their movements synchronized with the wild rhythm of their bodies. His hands roamed over your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, as he explored every inch of your body with a possessive possessiveness.

You moaned, writhing against him, your body trembling with need, your heart pounding in sync with the frantic beat of his, as he plunged deeper into you with each thrust. Your nails dug into his back, leaving crescent marks that would later serve as a reminder of this night.

His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses as he nuzzled your collarbone, then your chest, and finally your nipples, which hardened under the gentle caress of his tongue. You arched your back, your body craving for more, as his hands cupped your breasts, kneading them with a ferocity that made you gasp.

As he continued to ravage your body, you could feel the heat building between your legs, a fiery ache that begged for relief. Your hips bucked against his, seeking that sweet release, the friction sending spears of pleasure through you. He groaned, his own arousal swelling, and he thrust harder, his hips meshing with yours.

His hands roamed your body, caressing your curves, leaving trails of electricity in their wake. You arched your back, your breasts thrusting forward, begging for his attention. He didn't disappoint, his mouth closing over one taut nipple, teeth gently scraping against the sensitive flesh, while his other hand trailed down your side, slipping between your legs.

Your breath hitched as his fingers found their mark, teasing your swollen folds, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through you. Your body trembled, desperate for his touch, for him to drown you in sensation. He obliged, his fingers delving deeper, slick with your arousal. 

The roughness of his touch against your sensitive skin became a symphony of pleasure, as he slid in and out, his rhythm perfect, his fingers working in unison with the movements of his hips. You could feel yourself nearing the edge, your body coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust.

“Fuck, c’mon darlin, be a good girl, give it to me,” He groaned, as he sensed your impending release and increased the speed of his fingers, sending you over the edge in a wave of pure ecstasy. Your back arched off the bed, your nails digging into his skin as you cried out his name. He followed you over, spilling into you with a guttural moan.

You collapsed onto the bed, spent and breathless, but he wasn't done with you yet. He rolled you onto your hands and knees, positioning himself behind you. You felt him smirk against your back before he slammed into you again, filling you up completely.

His pace was rougher now, more primal as he claimed your body as his own. You met each thrust eagerly, reveling in the raw passion that flowed between you.

He reached around to caress your clit, adding another layer of stimulation to the already mind-blowing experience. Your moans and cries filled the room as he drove you both to new heights of pleasure.

As you were both on the verge of climax once again, he flipped you over onto your back and plunged into you one final time. With one hand gripping your thigh and the other tangled in your hair, he pounded into you with an intensity that left you breathless.

When he finally let go and spilled inside of you for a second time, it was like a dam had burst within both of them. You clung to each other as waves of pleasure washed over you both until eventually subsiding.

You lay there tangled together in a sweaty mess, your limbs intertwined as you both fought to catch your breath. The air was thick with the scent of passion, the sheets clinging to your bodies in a sensual embrace. As the haze lifted from your minds and your heart rates slowly returned to normal, you looked up at him and smiled, your eyes shining with a mix of contentment and wonder.

"That was incredible," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the delicate moment.

His lips curved into a satisfied grin, his gaze burning into you with a intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "You're incredible," he replied, his voice husky with desire, the words caressing your skin like a lover's touch.

You both lay there for a while, basking in the afterglow of your intense lovemaking. The sheets were tangled around the two of you, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the feeling of being intertwined with him, your bodies still connected in an intimate embrace.

A part of you couldn't help but feel a twinge of apprehension, a nagging voice in the back of your mind warning you that this was uncharted territory. You were jumping headfirst into the deep end, and the risk of drowning was ever-present. But as you gazed into his eyes, the warmth and affection you saw there quelled your fears, replacing them with a sense of exhilaration and anticipation.

"I can't believe this is happening," you murmured, your fingers tracing the contours of his face, as if to reassure yourself that this was real. "I never thought we'd end up here, but I'm so glad we did."

He chuckled, the deep rumble of his laughter sending a shiver of delight through you. "Darlin', you have no idea how long I've been waitin' for this," he confessed, his hand caressing your cheek with a tenderness that belied the passion that had just consumed them.

You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you, a mix of joy, trepidation, and a deep, abiding love that threatened to overwhelm you. "I'm scared," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm also so excited to see where this takes us."

His expression softened, and he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, reassuring kiss. "I'm here, darlin'," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "We'll figure it out, together."

As you lost yourself in the warmth of his embrace, you knew that no matter the challenges, you would face them side by side. The risk of drowning may have been ever-present, but with him by your side, you were ready to dive in, to explore the depths of this newfound love and see where it would take you.

[o-sachi]

Blue Lock Filo! AU Headcanons

𖤓 feat. isagi, bachira, chigiri, kunigami, barou, nagi, reo, sae, rin, karasu, otoya, hiori, shidou, oliver, yukimiya 𖤓 tags: college au, filo au, crack (kinda), sfw, written in Taglish because ???, not proofread lel

note: I'm sorry if your uni isn't here. My knowledge of universities in the country is limited to the big 4 and some others that participate in uaap sobbb

note 2: Send me your own hcs too plspls

note 3: filo moots sana magkaron haha what if

Isagi

He goes to UST and will correct you (nicely) about how to pronounce "Thomasian"

Goes to church with his family every Sunday without failure

He's close with his extended family too, especially the grandparents.

Golden child. Siya yung bata na example ng nanay mo na dapat gayahin mo raw.

A fan of indie Pinoy bands and watches indie Pinoy films.

Cup of Joe fan lol

Too shy to ask anyone out for the Christmas event sa UST (sorry limot ko na ano tawag).

Is in UST, but probably not taking up medicine. Parents were supportive of it though.

Mabilis mag-reply. He uses the 👍 and 😊 unironically

Friends with a lot of questionable/cancelable guys, but he's still genuinely the nice one among them

When he visits a friend's house, he's always chatting up their parents and helping around the house without being asked

Generic sinigang enjoyer :shrug:

Pretty much an average guy. Though he is definitely nicer than most. It shocks you.

(Sorry wala na ko maisip pero basta green flag siya).

Bachira

Goes to UP Diliman for fine arts

A manic pixie dream boy that girls gush about when they see him hanging out at the sunken gardens

Knows all the brainrot and even the Pinoy brainrot

Does the "Ha? Halaman" and says "Sinong nagtanong?"

Loves Jollibee because it's cheap and it tastes good

Spaghetti and Jollihotdog enjoyer

Social anxiety fears him. He'll do mostly everything you ask him for 20 pesos (sometimes for free)

Celebrated his 4th birthday at Jollibee and has a picture with the mascot lol

Bardagulan enjoyer

Has been casted in plays before and is genuinely good at acting

See him running in campus because he's always late to class

Puts too many songs in the karaoke but never finishes the songs because he gets bored halfway through

Runs a FB meme page...

Actually dresses nicely. Hindi mukhang pakboi

Not afraid sumabit sa jeep. Either sa tabi siya ni manong or sabit

Chigiri

Went to some fancy all boys like Brent, then is now in Ateneo

Could be studying business ??

Not conyo. Just straight up English with a really good accent

imessage lang daw mode of communication niya

Always wearing a button up, khaki pants, and loafers na Sperry or sandals from Birkenstock

Was featured in a commercial when he was younger

His mom was very active in the PTA. Their family was often the topic of chismis because yk maraming inggit sa paligid.

Does not listen to OPM or watch Filipino movies because 'corny' daw 'yun

Mabagal mag-reply since he's always busy doing something

Calls people 'baduy' or 'jologs' or 'jejemon' because he can

MATARAY SI ATE KO

Will never catch him on a dating app because, again, it's so baduy daw

Kunigami

I dunno but... UP Baguio vibes siya lol

Will always always always post on his story of him running along the campus

May post palagi ng gym progress at Strava stats niya

People think he's thirst trapping, but really, he's not

Also very close with family and they celebrate all holidays together no matter what

Karinderya food enjoyer (same)

Loves anything na lutong bahay tbh. He's not picky with food.

Mabagal din mag-reply pero that's because he's not chronically online

Does not get internet memes or references. Lolo po siya.

A really good kuya! The type to intimidate his sisters' boyfriends if they ever come to visit their house.

Probably also plays basketball too. They used to live near a gym/ring. He played a lot with the neighborhood kids.

Watches NBA and Manny's boxing matches

Shot puno. Red Horse. San Mig.

Pag nalasing nag-dadrama tapos kakanta ng malungkot na song sa karaoke

Laging naka sando LOL

Barou

UP DILIMAN TOO AND STUDYING ARCHITECTURE

Makes insanely good plates

Laging napapagalitan ni lola kasi nakasimangot palagi

Lola's boy by the way

Gets insane road rage because of the god awful traffic

"Putangina traffic na naman." / "Parang gago 'to mag-drive." / "Sige. Singit pa, hayop ka." (sa naka-motor)

Fan siya ng F1

Malutong magmura lmfaooo

Also a gym bro but doesn't care about sharing it on social media

Barely any social media presence

Tutors his younger siblings

Isn't ashamed of taking food from parties, stuffing it in a tupperware, and heading his merry way home

Argues with people on FB because he can

"Anong sinasabi mo. Bobo ka ba?"

Term of endearment niya ay "Tanga"

Nagi

Parents always get mad at him kasi nga tamad.

Also because he was a picky eater as a child. Would rather starve than eat that one ampalaya dish (was always served at his household which pissed him off)

Wanted to go to the same university as Reo but Ateneo is too serious for him. So he went with sports science in NU

They make sure to meet up still

Always misses his stops because he falls asleep or zones out

He's the guy in class who always has his airpods on no matter what

Hoodie, baggy pants, dunks

Mahilig umutang, pa-unti unti, pero madalas nalilimutan

"Ah. May utang ako? Sorry, nalimutan ko siguro."

COD player na palaging may battle pass no matter what. Nainis siya isang beses kasi sinabihan siya ng PC MASTER RACE. Eh cellphone gamer lang siya

Obviously, he had his ML phase

Trashtalker siguro. "Tulog ka na. Bata," type shi

Teachers always forced him to join the events in the sports fest

Reo

Siyempre, Ateneo 'yan. Management Engineering pa. 'Di niyo kinayaaaa

CONYO 'YAN FOR SURE

He's in a bunch of orgs and stuff because he's a social butterfly like that

May nanay na judgmental sa ibang pamilya lmfao

Was in one of those interviews on campus asking students about their daily baon

"Ah. Isn't 1k a day normal? It's kulang pa nga eh since I live sa condo."

Ayun. Nakatira sa condo pala.

Goes golfing with his dad and posts his swing on IG stories

Crypto bro. Shares his crypto stats(?) sa IG stories

Humble bragger kahit saan. Personal or on social media

Same porma with Chigiri pero mas madalas naka-polo shirt siya

Ralph Lauren and Lacoste boy

Laging VIP seats sa concerts. May napila sa SM tickets para sa kanya

Lowkey a D-list or C-list celebrity

Friends with Filo actors and actresses

Sae

Also Ateneo (Sorry ang daming Ateneo. Alam ko. Pero those are the vibes eh.)

Definitely went for medicine and is planning to study even more sa foreign country

The golden boy of their clan. Always receives the most praise and pasalubong from relatives

He hates hearing the "Ang laki mo na!" greeting

Never engaged in the pagmamano and saying of "po" and "opo"

SURPRISINGLY, he enjoys the dirty ice cream they sell on a cone (it's not actually dirty btw, it's what we call ice cream sold by carts on the street. it's edible dw)

Possibly a frat boy

Gets so many message requests on messenger and insta but he ignores them all

Strava enthusiast din

You'll see him running in all of the best gear

Not conyo. He actually speaks mostly Tagalog but there's that slight 'maarte' accent there

Hates being called 'rich kid' kesyo baduy din daw LMAO

They have a driver, so many yayas, a gardener... ay basta kumpleto staff nila

Ayaw nung staff sa kanya kasi suplado

Drives a BMW

Rin

Went to La Salle and got into LeapMed just to spite his older brother and prove to them that he is better

Relatives always compare them

Even though they're rich, he probably got a lot of hand-me-downs from kuya, which pissed him off SO MUCH

Not a fan of Filipino movies, but he likes the horror movies. He says some of them are really well-crafted and gives a good scare sometimes

Unlike Sae, Rin likes homemade food. I see him liking Menudo lol (I mean, who doesn't?)

Refuses to commute. He's driving or he's being driven. No buts.

Mas gusto siya ng staff sa bahay nila lol

He grew up with a specific yaya. They're actually still close now. He's closer to her than his parents.

The conyo one. Mahilig mag-mura pero exclusively English 'yan.

Takes the longest to reply kaya 'yan walang ka-talking stage lol

100% has beef with the younger members of his extended family. He has that annoying cousin that he tripped once because why not

He hates family reunions, of course

Karasu

UPLB. Fo sho.

Chemical engineering definitely.

Halimaw yarnnn (heart eyes heart eyes)

Bro pulls up to class in a shirt, basketball shorts, and flip flops

Not a fan of the nightlife there, but is a certified manginginom LMAO

Can outdrink his dad and titos. Kahit lambanog pa 'yan

Extra respectful to the ladies in his family. Gets ultra pissed off when someone jokes about getting with his mom or older sister

Malutong din magmura

His personal favorite is "gago" HAHAHA

Medyo dry mag-chat, walang emojis (pero 'yun ang gusto ng mga babae apparently)

Not a fan of Manila (smells weird daw there)

Secretly makes fun of conyo people lol

Street food enjoyer. His favorite is probably isaw or squid balls. Matamis and maasim sauce please !

He can cook, but his mom cooks better, so taga-saing na lang siya ng bigas lol

Mahilig siya sa tapsilog siguro.

Lives off of energy drinks to survive the semester

Crush ko siya. Hala headcanon ba yan HAHAHAHA

Otoya (Oh boy oh boy)

Engineering as well, but at Mapua. Probably electrical engineering or industrial

Gwapo na mabango HAHAHA

VAPES. Onti na lang naka-lanyard na vape niya

Listens to Zild and Hev abi...

Araw-araw may IG story ng car niya, ng music na pinapakinggan niya, or panibagong soft launch

Fan siya ng American Psycho at Blade Runner kasi he is him daw (akala niya siya si Ryan Gosling na may pinagdadaanan...)

Nasa Tinder at Bumble. Bio reads: "Let's see where it takes us."

Na-cancel na sa Twitter before pero wala siyang pakialam (unbothered king?!)

Favorite song ang FE!N

Rap fan 'yan eh

Nako... may Telegram 'yan

Valorant e-boy. Kailangan may duo palagi.

Says he's into cute chinitas probably

Laging may note sa IG or sa messenger lol

"Kumain ka na ba?" texts (hala siya)

Of course, good morning at good night texts din

Frat boy siguro (may frat ba sa Mapua? sorry hindi ko knows)

Drinks a lot, but he can't handle his liquor. Gigising na lang siya the next day may video siya sa boy's GC na kung anu-ano ginagawa.

Hiori

Computer Science probably. Also in UPLB. (Ang probinsyano?? HAHAHAHA)

Studying? Why study when he can be at the computer shop? He lives there, pretty much

Dorms because he wants to get away from his family

Can't be bothered with org/frat culture

Tambay sa forums like freedom walls/reddit/etc

Sumasali siya sa e-sports tournaments

LoL and DOTA player, of course

Also plays a bunch of stuff on Steam as well though. Pero babalik at babalik pa rin sa LoL

Also plays Valorant. Smurfs for fun because he likes crushing the hopes and dreams of people. "Sala ka pa. Haha, tanga," type shi.

Always down for the early morning runs to 7-11 or whatever's open at that hour

Puro pancit canton kinakain. Puro Mountain Dew iniinom.

He and his friends always talk about PC specs...

"Hindi, pre. Mas maayos pa rin 'yung ano..."

Shidou

Also from La Salle maybe? Not the Taft branch though. Hindi kasing yaman nung iba siguro.

Fine arts student! May art account siya sa IG

Napalabas siya sa McDo dati kasi masyadong maingay

Would probably vlog a day of his life at La Salle

Posts all the unhinged shit on their freedom wall and fucks with the people from the Taft branch lol

The reason why their group chat cannot be leaked under any circumstance AT ALL

Always has the weirdest nickname in their messenger group chat

Somehow I get the vibe that he enjoys inihaw lol (same)

Napunta rin minsan sa computer shop. But very rarely because he gets too heated and starts making a ruckus there (mapapalabas na naman)

Expert commuter. Baha has nothing on him. Waterproof siya.

Would probably engage in frat culture, but only for fun

A party animal. 10 seconds niya yung Cuervo ez

Oliver

Umm UP Manila Political Science? Maybe?

Always nominated for council positions or other important roles in university organizations lol

Major kuya vibes kasi

ANONG VAPE VAPE? DIRETSO MARLBORO RED NA

Which is giving out first? His liver or his lungs? Abangan.

Unlike Otoya, he doesn't really date girls at the same time, but more so, he moves faster than what you'd expect (may rebound palagi kumbaga)

Posts on his IG story always with the intention of capturing the attention of someone lol (lagi siya humahakot haha)

"It's not you. It's me."

Bro thinks he's the male lead of a Filipino indie romance film

Cannot shut up about I'm Drunk I Love You

Frequents BGC clubs as well. Aspired to be a DJ once

Lahat ng messaging apps meron 'yan. Replies very fast too.

Search up BGC Boy playlists on Spotify. That's what he does, at least.

Yukimiya

Maybe goes to Normal U. because he wants to be a teacher/professor

The typical softboi you see at a cafe reading a book or typing away on his MacBook

So many girls like him, but he's the type to be in a long-term relationship with a high school sweetheart or something

Most of his stories are of him studying (his notes, his coffee with his notes, his laptop screen)

Ben&Ben listener LMAOOO

Possibly also a lifestyle vlogger or podcaster

Keeps getting offers to model for local brands

Possibly religious (his whole family is)

He looks like he would like adobo. 'Yung may toyo, hindi ung tuyo (ANG RANDOM BAHAHAH)

Munimuni listener (he was sad when the vocalist left)

Wants to win a Carlos Palanca award eventually

Looks like the type to advocate for the local culture and is against colonial mentality

My brain ran out of ideas that's why some are shorter than the others lol

[yourelliewillms]

the guy from the record

store wasn't a guy?

ellie williams fanfic

━━ chapter 1 wc: 1.9k

read the chapters here !!

you've recently discovered this record shop, the perfect place to find everything of the new kind of music you've just gotten into, rock. your friends wouldn't share this interest with you but maybe the cute guy from the store will.

━━ he/him pronous are used for ellie sometimes but it's for plot purposes i swear !!

BASED ON THE GUY SHE WAS INTERESTED IN WASN'T A GUY AT ALL !!!! i love that manga so much i needed an ellie version so i did it myself. of course this is going to be shorter and pleeaase go read it i swear you won't regret it <3 i hardly recommend you to listen to the manga's playlist too, i'll add some of the songs to this fanfic. literally all i want is my lesbians to have the recognition they deserve. ALSO green is the characteristic color of that manga so i'll be using it here too, everything will be green bc we love green lesbians.

another warning, english is not my first language so you may find some mistakes.

it's been a long day at school but at least the week of exams has ended and you've done pretty good. "i deserve a prize" you think to yourself while your feet guide you out of the building. certainly the exams drained you, the only thing you want to do now is take a long nap to catch up on sleep.

walking down the sidewalk, you put on your headphones which have been your best friends for the last few months when you discovered this band nirvana. it is in fact a popular band but in your friend group? no, not at all. your friends prefer other kind of music. pop, kpop, even jazz, but rock? impossible.

so you find yourself unable to share your new music taste with your friends. even if you beg them to give it a chance, they'll refuse it every time. this is definitely the worst, how are you supposed to fully enjoy this work of art only by yourself? they definitely don't understand what good music is, if only they gave it a chance you could-

just when the music from your headphones stopped, you could still hear one of your favorite songs smells like teen spirit coming from a... record store?

your mind is full of questions, since when has been this store here? this is just 5 minutes away from school and you've never noticed it. maybe this is the prize you deserve for having successfully passed all your exams. buying your very first vinyl will surely be the boost of serotonin you need.

you took off your headphones before getting into the store and quickly walked to check all the beautiful vinyls. the excitement could be seen in your eyes, all the vinyls of your favorite bands in one store and you're even considering finding a job, buying everything of this store is not a want but a necessity. this must be heaven.

after what felt like seconds but were actually 20 long minutes, you finally make your choice and find the vinyl that'll have the privilege to be your very first and most appreciated acquisition.

you turn around, walk towards the shop counter and just then realize how rude of you was not to greet the old man at the store. however, you don't care that much, he should understand that you were too excited to even speak and... was it an old man? did you even look at the person who was next to you the last 20 minutes?

"i'll take this" you place the vinyl on the counter before looking up at the person in front of you.

but now, you reassure one more time that you're not on earth anymore. this is definitely heaven, or maybe something greater because the angel in front of you isn't from this planet at all. green eyes, auburn hair drawn back in a messy bun, a scar on one eyebrow, black clothes with a nirvana t-shirt, an arm tattoo and a mask. this is the most gorgeous guy you've seen in your entire life and you were rude to him, you didn't talk to him for this entire time.

"i love this one" he gave you your new purchase in a bag "you have good taste" that raspy voice that'll live in your mind rent free for an eternity, you're sure about that.

meanwhile, your mind has been spinning for the last 30 seconds. a cute guy with a stunning style and majestic music taste, you've seen only his eyes but you can already imagine a life with him where you get married and play your favorite songs in your wedding.

"thanks, you too. bye" and just like that the conversation ended. you're definitely not the most flirtatious person but you didn't ask him anything, maybe it was too soon to ask for his number but not even his name? really? you can already hear your friends scolding you but at least you remember half of his face and that's enough to be delusional the following months until you find another crush.

8 in the morning and you've been talking for half an hour to your friends about this cute guy from the record store. of course they scolded you for not asking his name but your excitement couldn't be taken away that easily. no other boy from your school has ever made you feel like this, no one called your attention like he did.

"is there any possibility that you see your boy again?" dina, your best friend asked "and maybe ask him out"

"dina!" you frowned as if she had just said the craziest thing you've heard in your life "it's too soon for that. but as soon as i see him again i'll ask him his name" you started kicking your feet "and he'll fall in love with me."

dina and your bursted out laughing and spent the whole morning planning your future life with someone you saw once.

maybe you've been talking too loud or maybe she doesn't like you, but the girl next to you has been glancing at you and dina and she seemed a little too much interested in your conversation.

ellie. you've been classmates for almost a year but you two never spoke. she's like any other girl at school. she wears the same uniform as you, a white shirt and a gray skirt. she also wears these square glasses and she has her headphones on most of the time.

she seems like one of those nerds but one that doesn't participate that much in class. she comes to class, listens to the professors and goes home. you've never seen her talking to any other classmates but she seems comfortable only drawing on her notebook and listening to something on her headphones, it's not that you don't like her, but you haven't had the opportunity to get to know her.

but today she seemed quite distracted and instead of focusing on the class, she was focused on you. she seemed nervous, maybe she wanted to join the conversation and make some friends?

however, the bell rang. you were too busy talking about your new guy to try to figure out why ellie's been looking at you more than usual. you began to pack up your belongings; notebook, pencil case, some other books and, are you forgetting something?

the moment you're getting up from your seat, you can feel ellie's presence approaching you. you stare up at her for a few seconds and before you can say something, her hand reached your ear and put on one of your earbuds.

"you dropped this" your eyebrows furrowed, did she always had those pretty green eyes?

the song that you'd been listening on loop nothing at all was playing on your earbuds loud enough for her to listen to it "that song rocks, doesn't it?" and just like that she walked out the door leaving you completely confused. you're sure you've seen those eyes before, you think that maybe for a split second you stopped looking at ellie as your classmate and maybe... someone else.

on the other hand, ellie has been walking in silence staring at her feet while her mind is about to explode because the girl who sits next to her, her classmate and one of the most popular girls at school, has met and is interested in a guy who works at the record store. but no guy works there, just ellie.

she got a part time job and she's been working there for a few months but that was the first time she saw you there. you didn't recognize her though, since the style she has at her job is the opposite of the one she has at school.

probably the best option is to tell you the truth, the guy you're interested in isn't a guy and is actually the boring, nerdy girl from school, the girl you'd never talk to because that would only ruin your reputation, or at least that's what ellie thinks.

ellie thought that her job should be boring and only boring, she didn't want to have to deal with something else than that. and now that girl has a crush on her, or she has a crush on the person she thinks ellie is.

fortunately, ellie's job is calm. not many people visit the store so she spends her first hours of work tidying the place, not paying much attention to the store itself.

while cleaning at the back of the store, ellie heard the ring of the little bell on the door warning the presence of a client. she sighed and fixed her clothes before getting into the store again but got surprised when she noticed that the client was actually you.

if it weren't for the music playing at the store, the place would have been in complete silence. no one was on sight when you walked in so the sound coming from the back of the store scared you and you jumped. "you scared me, i didn't know you were here" you giggled nervously.

"have you been looking forward to it that much?" you were starting to stutter when the green eyed spoke in what seemed a flirty way. "no- i mean! the new foo fighters album" she interrupted herself "you were looking forward to it because you wanted to buy it, right?" she tried to hide her shaky voice, did she just accidentally flirt with you?

"i swear it's so good, you can hear it a thousand times and it'll still sound amazing. also, i know you like nirvana too because you bought the vinyl. you'll love it, i totally recommend it."

you were in a dream, did you just exchange more than two words with that guy? and he was showing a lot of interest it seemed unreal. you'd be a fool if you mess this up.

"i really want to buy it but uhm..." your pockets were empty, you spent all your money in that vinyl and being an unemployed student is not helpful to your situation "i'm a bit short of money right now" not to say that you're dry.

"i'm sorry but i-" yet she didn't let you finish your sentence "i bought this one for myself. you can have it and tell me your opinion when you return it."

he couldn't be more charming to you. only 5 minutes talking and you had already fell down on your knees. "thank you. you can give me your number so that i can bring it back." your hand sweating for you've finally made a move on who you thought was the guy from your dreams.

"no," no? he rejected you just like that, he didn't even a think a second to answer your question "it's just... i can't use my phone at work."

laying on the counter in front of you was a black ink pen which you quickly grabbed and started writing your phone number on his wrist next to his tattoo.

ellie looked at you stunned, she was glad she was wearing a mask because her cheeks had turned crimson. she noticed your hand shaking and that was the moment she realized the trouble she'd gotten into.

"i thought that if i wrote it on a paper, you'd lose it." the music playing in the background just made the atmosphere between you two dreamlike. you waved and smiled at him as you left the store hoping your burning cheeks would go unnoticed. not only did you have someone to share your interests with but also it was someone who you were crushing on really hard.

the first person on the taglist will be my editor/manager/first person who read this @ohnopoteito thank uuu 💋💋

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗖𝗔𝗡 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗠𝗘?

　　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N is a worldwide famous singer, but her favorite thing in the world is hearing Chris singing just for her.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: No.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

When you are a world-famous singer who performs at least once a month, tours every year, models, acts, does interviews, is looked at everywhere by papparazzi and scouts, has articles published about you - often with false information -, it was safe to say that Y/N needed a place to rest, and hers was next to Chris.

Her resting with him was many things: spending hours marathoning mindless movies on the couch wrapped in a fluffy blanket and her boyfriend's arms, or when she could lay on Chris's lap and sink into a new book; sometimes it was when her house shared with the triplets smelled like her favorite cake, or when she spent the day making a new DIY that she found on tiktok...

Y/N was a girl with simple tastes, she didn't need much to be impressed, just a few minutes next to Chris were enough for her to feel like the luckiest girl in the world and finally be able to relax her body completely, getting rid of the adrenaline of having a life as an artist.

Don't get me wrong, Y/N loved her profession, since she was little her biggest dream was to be able to perform in front of a crowd and show her talent, and her fans provided that for her; seeing a sea of ​​people in front of her singing along to a song she composed made her see stars, the adrenaline that coursed through her veins when she picked up her pink microphone and could walk, dance, run and jump around the stage freely while singing the lyrics that referred to important moments in her life was incredible.

But nothing compared to waking up next to Chris in the morning and finding the sleepy face she loved so much along with his husky morning voice, or cooking homemade food for them and receiving a hug from behind that was always accompanied by "I love you so much". No moment in front of interviewers with overpriced magazines compared to when Chris won a round of one of his video games and got up from his chair with an excited scream, running over to where Y/N was and showering her with kisses.

Don't even remind me of the thousands of butterflies that flew together in Y/N's stomach when Chris wrote one of his love letters to her, delivering it along with several sweets and chocolates that she was addicted to - a weekly event in their lives.

Y/N's professional life was hectic and tiring, when she wasn't on a plane going from one country to another, she was in a studio recording a new song, or on a famous program answering very controversial questions.

So, when her busy day's were over and she could simply be Y/N, she would go straight into Chris's arms, where she knew she would receive comfort and security.

And that's exactly what she did today. After a turbulent day in the studio recording her new songs, making wrong high notes and having to redo them, crossing out written verses and rewriting them, the girl just wanted to get home and dive into her boyfriend's arms.

Y/N slowly closed the door to her shared room with Chris, her eyes wandering to the low lights and the almost imperceptible sound coming from the television, which was turned on in a random series.

Chris was already in bed dressed in his pajamas, the fluffy gray blanket covering his body up to his shoulders. He had his eyes almost closed from the intense tiredness, but he seemed to fight against it.

That was another thing that Y/N loved about Chris, regardless of what time she came home, he would always be waiting for her awake - more or less.

The girl walked with light steps to the nightstand on her side of the bed, taking the remote control and turning off the television, complete silence settling in the room.

"Hey, I didn't hear you coming." The brunette's sleepy voice caught Y/N's attention, who turned her face towards him, seeing him still lying in the same position, but with his blue eyes now very much open and looking at her. Probably having "woken up" due to the lack of the background sound.

"Hi my love, I just arrived. I'm just going to take a shower and come to bed with you." Y/N responded in a whisper.

"Okay." He said softly, looking at her from below with doe eyes.

Y/N leaned over the bed momentarily, sealing her lips over Chris' soft ones for a few seconds before getting up again and walking to the bathroom.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N opened the bathroom door, the steam from the hot shower escaping momentarily as she crossed to the bedroom, already in her pajamas, before closing it again.

She walked slowly to the bed, seeing Chris lying on his side and holding his phone with one of his hands, looking more awake than before - or trying to -, the screen brightness turned to a minimum as his thumb scrolled through his Instagram feed.

Chris lifted his head slightly when he heard her approaching, a lazy smile stretching across his face as he stretched slowly, locking the screen of his phone and briefly placing it on top of his bedside table. He opened his arms, waiting for his girlfriend to lay there.

Y/N returned the smile, lifting the gray blanket and laying down on her side of the bed, snuggling in before burying herself in Chris's arms. She ran her nose down his neck, breathing in the fresh scent of soap on his skin, caressing the sensitive spot with her lips.

His hands circled her shoulders, a sigh of pleasure escaping his lips at the comfort that the warmth post-bath of Y/N's body provided. The girl lifted her left hand, running it through Chris' hair, brushing his bangs out of his eyes.

"How was your day?" Chris asked softly a few seconds later, his blue eyes taking in his girl's tired features.

The deep sigh that escaped her mouth was answer enough for him: tiring.

"Did you eat anything? Are you hungry?" He continued, lifting his right hand - which was previously on Y/N's waist - and taking her left hand from his own hair, bringing it to his lips and sealing the soft skin for a few seconds, keeping his attention on her face.

"I had lunch, honey, I'm not hungry." She replied, a tired smile appearing on her lips at his affectionate gesture.

"Don't you want me to get you a snack? Lunch was many hours ago, kitten." Chris intertwined their fingers, only receiving a shake of her head.

"Can you sing f'me?" Y/N asked in a low, weak tone, her words barely noticeable.

A goofy smile grew on Chris's face, his eyes shining with excitement and love. He adored it when his singer girlfriend asked him to sing for her, it seemed too ironic to be true, but that was exactly what Y/N adored most.

"What do you want today? Rap, pop or rock?" He teased, a soft chuckle escaping Y/N's lips as she rolled her eyes, intertwining their legs together and scooting closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder, placing a little kiss on the region.

"Anything is fine, I just want to hear you sing." She asked, eager to listen her boy's soft voice against her ear.

"Y/N baby, I dedicate this one for you." He joked, a smile on his voice before he started to sing a song that he knew that was one of his girl's favorite. "Stay bugging out, days on end..." Chris began slowly, resting his chin on his girlfriend's head, his voice now sounding hoarse and low, intensifying Y/N's drowsiness. "Days on end."

Her eyes began to flutter closed, her heartbeat calming down as the weight of her shoulders seemed to drain down her body, her limbs relaxing completely.

"Play this often, don't take this shit too seriously." He continued gently, stroking Y/N's back in circles with his left hand, feeling the area lose its previous tension. "Know you get insecure, wish I had more wisdom for you..."

Y/N took a deep breath lightly, allowing her mind to drift off into the world of dreams, Chris's voice becoming muffled and almost null against her ears, but her brain seemed to still register it, using it as a personal tranquilizer.

"Sleep, babe." Chris whispered after singing some more lines, noticing her closed eyes and slightly open mouth.

He pressed his lips to the top of his girlfriend's head, before snuggling closer against her body, allowing himself to sleep, Y/N's slow breathing serving as his favorite lullaby.

[thesilmarillionblog]

𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 ── Part 4

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: In the hopes that things would improve between you, you choose to lose your virginity to your friend Dean Winchester because you have been in love with him madly for a long time. However, he doesn't feel the same about you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Warnings: +18! (Minors DNI), SMUT! Halloween Party, sensitive topics, discussions, unprotected sex, jealousy, sexual tension, heavy angst, insecure and confused reader, angst, painful

Word Count: 11.1K

A/N: English is not my first language.

🎃🕸️── Halloween Special Part ──🕸️🎃 Song: 'Honeythief' by Halou.

“Can we talk properly?” Upon hearing that you wished to return home, Dean implied he regretted what he said earlier. What is done was done though.

You cut him off abruptly, saying, “I really don't want to,” and indicated the need to stop talking to Dean about the depth of your friendship with Robb. What he asked wasn’t appropriate and though he knew it, he had asked a second time with a more rude manner. “I am really exhausted. A lot.”

To change your opinion, Dean replied, “Sam invited you,” as if telling you that Sam's suggestion was any better. Your wish to return home was overwhelming.

This time, you spoke out with a firm tone. “Really, Dean,” avoiding his gaze with a turn to face the road. “The next day I'll be working too. I should definitely get some sleep. It was a very busy day. I can’t feel my legs.”

“Alright.”

Dean shut his mouth, not wanting to annoy you any longer, and considered the bond you have with Robb. Dean wondered if the son of a bitch had already made a move on you since he was quite sure he was up to something. He found it disturbing that he would have to work together with you at the hospital in the days to come.

Sighing, he took a quick glance at you and seeing that you were staring at the road while lost in thoughts. It was only a simple question; maybe he shouldn't have asked it that way, but he did not like the thought of getting on your nerves. Maybe you were simply too exhausted for a brief discussion. He didn't mean to hurt your feelings. But he felt bizarrely pleased that you and that man hadn't shared any intimate past. He wasn't your type anyway. Too tall and too skinny for your taste. Dean was sure of that. 

You knew you arrived when Dean pulled over. He should have been aware of the boundaries; it wasn't that you wanted to part ways with him that way and watch him leave. You hated seeing him leave. Your mind and heart yearned for intimacy.

Dean responded, “I'll pick you up tomorrow morning,” just as you were about to get out.

“Alright, good night. Tell Sammy that I'm sorry and also worn out.”

Even if you didn't get the finest sleep of your life, at least Dean showed your home sooner than you anticipated and brought coffee. You kindly turned down his offer to have breakfast together because you would be late for work. In reality, it was primarily due to his strangely impolite behavior recently. You made every effort to remain normal and behave as though nothing had occurred between you and him. But even though you tried your best and talked to him very normally, he had been acting like a jerk, as though it was your fault all along.

That's why you made the decision to set a few boundaries despite what your heart felt. If not, Dean would end up hurting you much more. Love was an awful type of disease. 

“Will you be coming tonight?” Dean asked as you turned to face him and opened the door.

You just stated, “I don't want to.” Although your anger had subsided from yesterday, you still felt uncomfortable and needed some alone time. 

“Why not?” Dean softly inquired, clearly taken aback by your answer. After all, you never used to reject him for anything. 

Fuck, you didn't even say no when he approached you for your first quick sexual experience. When Dean spoke, you had to learn to say no. For real. Otherwise, you had no idea what to do, even if he dragged your head between his legs right away. Your face turned red. You felt pathetic.

“Robb and I will be having our dinner tonight. Outaide. We haven't spent much time together lately,” you stated while looking at your watch. You still had some more time.

Dean's hands tightened around the steering wheel. There was no doubt that Robert would be a pain in the ass. Deal was becoming increasingly irritated by knowing that you would be spending the entire night with him; in fact, it was making him want to break Robert's face.

“I'll make dinner. You are welcome to bring Robb, your buddy,” Dean said. Before he could stop himself, he spoke. After all, he was never particularly good at thinking twice. “He's new here after all, and he can get to know his friend's friends by himself.”

Although Dean's offer seemed sweet and generous, you still raised an eyebrow and were ready to say no. You asked naively, “Really?”

“Yeah.” Dean smiled a bit at you, seeing that you were already thinking about accepting his offer. That wasn't too difficult, he guessed. “Making new friends and having dinner together would be awesome.”

When you eventually said, “Okay,” you looked at your watch and said, “But I have to ask Robb first, then I'll give you a call. I have to go right now.”

Dean picked up your bag and handed it to you when he noticed you had forgotten it. “Okay. After you speak with him, give me a call. Take care.” 

Because you were restless and kept yawning, you continued receiving warnings; thus, the rest of the day didn't go as smoothly as you had planned. You could get some relaxation at the end of the week which was two days late. It was Halloween Week after all. You had no plans though. Remembering that you had spent it in your own house doing nothing, your heart clenched with sorrow.

You didn't have enough time to chat with Robert because the emergency was so busy. In the meantime, he was consumed with his own work. When lunchtime rolled around, you managed to get his attention and told him that Dean offered an invitation for dinner. You awaited Robert's rejection. In fact, you would feel better if you avoided seeing Dean for a day at the very least. You needed some time alone for yourself. God, what made you say "yes" in the first place?

Robb, much to your surprise, accepted the offer with enthusiasm and stated that you all should spend time all together. He had also wanted to know who your pals were. If he found out that you and the Winchester brothers were ghost hunters, you wondered what kind of reaction he would have. He would suggest that you see a doctor. You'd die because of embarrassment.

You were going to tell him that you knew Dean from when he helped you a year or so ago and was skilled at fixing cars. That would be enough as an explanation. Of course, you had to warn Dean first. Your face reddened as you thought back to when he had mentioned how good you were about using your hands. God knew what exactly he meant. He was an asshole. Sometimes.

Sam shot Dean a strange glance when he placed everything he bought from the grocery store. 

“What are these for?”

Dean revealed, “We have a special guest for dinner tonight.”

The fact that he had asked your friend to come to the dinner made him uncomfortable. He was an absolute stranger. Still, it was preferable to letting you and him share a night together. He believed that you two were growing more and more apart every day, and you two had too much to talk about. It seemed like Robert would be an obstable.

The more time you spend with Robert, the more boundaries you build between you and him. That wasn't right. You were, after all, a long-time member of the family. A year of hunting wasn't an exaggeration. 

“Who?” Sam inquired, puzzled by Dean's peculiar behavior. 

“Y/N and her friend, Robb.” 

“Is she in a relationship already? I can't believe she would act that quickly.” Sam laughed out loud, enjoying the memory of his conversation with you. He was unaware that you would meet a man so quickly. Would that make him a friend or a good manipulator? As long as the result was beneficial for you, Sam was okay with both. 

Dean nearly threw the tomato at Sam's big head, but he restrained himself.

“She's not in a relationship,” Dean stated calmly. “And what you mean you didn't think she would act so fast?”

Sam grinned triumphantly, assuming from his previous words of encouragement that you were already in a relationship. After all, you needed a break from your job and the anxiety it caused. You have the right to pursue your own pleasure.

“Remember the night that she spent here the day before? We had been watching TV, and I asked Y/N whether she was seeing someone. Jo and you were enjoying your little fun. Remember now? You know, we are spending time together and going hunting, but for gods sake, I've never seen her with anyone,” Sam remarked, trying to think back on every minute of your conversation. 

As Dean chopped the tomatoes, he frowned, remembering the terrible night he had spent with Jo. He was still tormenting himself over the time he liked fucking her while he thought of your body throughout that moment. When he thought back on these times, Dean felt uneasy. He didn't know what had overcome him to do something that shouldn't have been done in the first place. 

“And?” Dean remarked, pushing Sam to continue. Regarding the other subjects Sam had brought up, he remained silent. 

“And I asked her whether she's into someone already or if she simply doesn't let people into her life. To be honest, I still don't know the answer, but I told her to see someone at least,” Sam said, beaming with pride at having offered you some helpful guidance. “I mean, she's been lonely for a long time, and her job is already too stressful,” he added. Actually, he wasn't all that excellent at managing his own life, but he was wonderful at offering advice and listening.

Dean felt a bit better when he heard that Sam hadn't seen you with anybody before, but he wasn't pleased about Sam's attempts to give you dumb advice that seemed totally useless. “She's not alone. She is one of us. And why would you fill her troubled head with such stupid ideas? Her work requires a lot of effort and energy already,” Dean said, annoyed with his brother's jerky behavior. 

You were handling too many things at once; therefore, it was helpful to avoid relationships and to quit doing meaningless things like dating. It was too much for you to handle. Dean was aware of how demanding and time-consuming nursing was. In short, relationships took a lot of time. Right now, you were too vulnerable and too soft to handle a man.

Bewildered by Dean's comments, Sam tried to defend himself. “What even are you saying, Dean? She won't be living alone for very long. Her entire family is gone. She is, of course, one of us, but it's very reasonable that she would desire to start her own family as a form of escape. She is not a child to protect; she is an adult.”

Dean scowled at Sam and rolled his eyes. It seems as though his brother would never stop bombarding you with his rubbish thoughts. Dean was sure that you would listen to his brother's idiotic words and, worse, that you would take them seriously because you were too naive.

“You had to be kidding me. Why on earth are you giving her such crap ideas? She shouldn't spend her little spare time with a man for just that reason. Dealing with a man's shit is more difficult than her job, which is already tough enough. Ask your partner. She will probably whine about how annoying you are occasionally. I'm sure she has much to tell.” 

“Takes one to know one, huh?” Having no idea about Dean's behavior, Sam raised an eyebrow. His brother was behaving strangely these days, for sure. Particularly about you. One of Dean's specialties was being overly protective and acting oddly tough. “Have you met her friend yet?”

“Yeah.”

“And? Is he working in the same hospital with her or?” Sam asked curiously.

Dean answered, “Yes, he's a doctor.” To observe how he was treating you while at work, perhaps he should get himself a fake identity and pretend to be a doctor for a day. Dean wondered if Robert treated you well. 

“They would make a great couple, huh? A nurse and a doctor. Sounds lovely enough and a bit...kinky.”

Lovely my ass.

“Why don't you help me, my lovely brother, instead of just sitting on your ass there uttering bullshit? She is your friend too,” Dean bitterly said, “I can't do the entire work by myself.” It seemed as though Sam had made it his mission to irritate Dean today. He wasn't sure if Sam was doing it on purpose. His brother was always a hopeless romantic bitch, but he never knew the ideal partner for himself and neither for you.

“Will you invite Jo?” Sam inquired, uninterested about Dean's plea for assistance. He was not even fond of kitchen stuff. It was something he never liked. 

“Fuck, no. Not that we are in a relationship. We're not seeing each other anymore.”

“Friends with benefits then?” Sam seemed to find the concept disgusting. How someone could fuck another every day without feeling anything at all was beyond his comprehension. Perhaps that was the reason for your prolonged single status. But for Dean, if he was in the mood for fuck, it didn't matter if he felt anything as long as the person had a pussy. 

“Fine. Good.” Sighing, Sam noticed Dean's sharp gaze as he cut the tomatoes, as if he wanted to throw the knife at him. 

When you saw Robert outside after he had to wait an hour for your shift to end, you felt awkward and apologized for something that wasn't your fault. He was polite and understanding enough to accept Dean's invitation, and he also waited for you in his car.

Following you, he drove his own car to Dean's house. You tried to calm Dean down over the phone after your small argument so that he wouldn't treat you like a child and rebuke just because you were talking on the phone while driving. He was the one to call you. In an attempt to avoid ruining the night, you made an effort to settle down beforehand.

It was annoying that when you told Dean what to tell Robb about how you met him and Sam since he didn't sound pleased. It was a story about Dean helping you with your car a year ago. It wouldn't be a lie; he was skilled at repairing after all. You couldn't tell if he liked Robb. It was insignificant, though. He should treat your friends with the same politeness that you showed him, along with his hookups and everyone else, even Jo. If not, you would have to really set a few boundaries. 

You were clueless about how to make an impression on him during the last several days, or even if you could win him over at all. Almost everything made him angry.

Soon after Robb and you parked, you nervously knocked on the door. He was standing next to you, and you prayed he hadn't noticed your nervousness. It was soothing that he always had an infectious smile on his face. It was nice to see someone at ease and easygoing. 

You briefly forgot how to breathe as Dean opened the door. You could smell his fresh fragrance from a distance, as if you were some animal. You couldn't tell if he had recently taken a shower or had simply changed his clothing. You blinked as your eyes met, and you forced yourself to look away from the tight, dark blue t-shirt that was revealing his enormous arms. You both awkwardly stood there, staring at one another without moving. You smelled like sweat and tiredness, most probably.

All of your fury at him vanished the instant you laid eyes on him, took in his piercing look, and smelled his clean scent. When your heart was beating wildly the moment you laid eyes on him, how were you going to set boundaries? Was there any chance for it?

Sam grinned broadly and said, “Hey,” reaching out to give you a hug as Robb walked in.

Sam gave you a tight embrace and said, “Welcome home,” as Dean and Robb exchanged strange looks.

Dean was staring at him as though he hadn't even invited him in the first place.

When Sam eventually quit holding you, Robet and Sam shook hands, and Dean tried to embrace you too, grabbing you by your belly, but you just murmured, “Hi, Dean,” smiling shyly, stroked his arm briefly, and hurried inside as you literally escaped from the hug though your heart craved for touching.

You didn't think you could resist melting in his arms and forgetting all he said if he gave you a hug right then. You weren't the god's strongest soldier. Plus, you were positive you smelled awful.

Dean's fingers burnt as soon as he touched you to pull to himself to give you a hug. He tried to make things normal and wanted you to comfortable with him just like you were comfortable with Sam. However, watching you escape from his hug with a simple greeting and a light touch, Dean's body tensed. He was consumed by your timid and icy behaviour as if you hadn't talked him about how you wanted things to be normal.

It didn't calm him up to see you being touchy with Robb and Sam. Moreover, Dean was already becoming irritated. It was a bad idea to invite a complete stranger. God. He should have considered his words wisely before speaking.

You sat at the table and looked around to see whether Jo was present, but she was nowhere to be seen. When you gave Dean a questioning glance, he said nothing. He assumed you were exhausting. You moved so slowly and heavily that it was simple to understand.

Robb interrupted, “Everything looks delicious,” while Dean continued to give you serious eye contact. “Thanks for having me.”

Dean smirked widely and continued, “Don't mention it.” You exhaled a sigh of relief. "So how was your day?" 

While you were fiddling with your food, Dean continued to eat, and you began to eat as well, though you weren't sure if you were truly hungry or not. You just felt a little anxious. Trying to unwind a little while, you watched Sam enjoy his food and listened to Dean and Robb. You hoped that your earlier action of trying to run away from Dean's touch hadn't offended him in any way. 

Robert responded shyly, “It was exhausting enough. But there weren't any deaths today, fortunately, which is not very common nowadays.”

“I bet. It's undeniable that these are crazy times,” Dean said while his mouth was full. Dear God. “But in emergencies, I'm sure things are much more crazier. There's no denying that the staff there deserve far more respect. Especially nurses.”

You nervously smiled and said, “Thanks, Dean,” acknowledging his sincere admiration for the work you were doing. “Robb is also quite deserving of respect. It's not easy to save someone's life and to see someone else lose their life at your hands. To be honest, I deal with broken bones and bandages on people's cut bodies mostly.”

“Well, I'm grateful. When it comes to medical problems and saving lives, there is no such thing as a little or huge job.” Robert sipped on his wine and stated, “I assure you, honey, you're very good at your job. That's sufficient.”

Dean rolled his eyes, carried on with his dinner, and gave Sam a quick glance. Rather than eating in solitude and messaging his girlfriend, his brother should have supported him in interrogating the doctor. In an attempt to get to know your friend, Dean felt as though he was battling alone. 

“Would you also save the life of a terrorist? or that of a rapist?” Dean inquired abruptly, and you gave him a stern look to let him know he was pushing things a little too far. 

When he invited you and Robert for dinner, you expected him to act nice and fix the complicated situation with you. However, he was determined to make you annoyed with his unpredictable behaviour. If only you could find a time to be alone with him right now, you could ask him to behave. You hoped he got the message when you frowned at his face.

Sam stated calmly, “Of course he is supposed to save people's lives no matter what,” and Dean briefly closed his eyes while smiling angrily. Even if his brother interrupted in this way, how in the world was he to question the morality of this dumb? He was doomed. Sam should have shut up instead of standing up for a stranger over Dean's face.

“I would and that’s what I’m doing,” Robb said in a tone as cold as was to be expected. “Even if some of these people are terrible and don't deserve to live, I made a vow to save their lives, not take them. Although I must admit that I don't enjoy it sometimes, I still do my best to help them. It is not my responsibility to judge them, put them in jail, or have them put to execution.”

You felt the air getting heavier, so you timidly put your hand on Robb's shoulder and patted him to express your sympathy and help him feel calmer. “And that's the right thing to do even if it doesn't feel right,” you mumbled. It was the kind of thing you had to answer every day, so you hoped Robb wouldn't take offense at Dean's question and that he wouldn't take it personally. 

“I don't think I would do it though,” Dean stated, fiddling with his meal at the moment. It was ridiculous to watch how he toyed with his fork now. 

With a broad smile, Robb said, “That's why I'm the doctor here and you are not,” seemingly trying to enrage Dean. As he thought he was being challenged as well, he didn't back down. They attempted to turn the talk into an ego battle, so you just rolled your eyes.

Aware of Dean's short temper, you gave Robb a hint by kicking him under the table. You then apologized and asked Dean for more wine.

“Dean had also questioned me with the same questions, which I'm sure were purely out of curiosity. After all, we all receive quite similar questions every day,” you remarked softly, hoping Dean wouldn't respond negatively this time and exacerbate the situation.

“Obviously. It is all curiosity. Don't take it personal.”

His remorse overcame him at seeing your timid and anxious appearance. It wasn't as though he invited your buddy and you to hurt feelings and spoil your evening again. It felt like a challenge, though, the way Robert called you nicknames while grinning slyly at Dean. If that guy stopped acting like he was more attractive, Dean might try to be more respectful. That guy was an asshole, though. He simply knew that being around you must make Robb feel more intelligent. 

He had such a punchable face, especially when he smiled. 

“How did you meet?” At last, Robb asked. If nothing else, you hoped he would help you ease the situation and stop getting on Dean's nerves. 

You didn't trust Dean and cut him off as soon as he opened his lips. “He helped me with my car. It was a dreadful, rainy day that included a small accident. As you are aware, Dean is excellent at fixing cars,” you made and attempt to praise him. It was true. “And I am not very good at driving in the rain as you know. In fact, he's the best.” He gave you a hand with your vehicle on many different occasions. Those were beautiful, memorable times.

“His and Sam's girlfriends are also good friends of mine.” Now that was a complete lie. However, you didn't want Robb to make any comments about romance when they were seated at the table. You were not very good at hiding your feelings, and Robert had an innate ability for reading people. 

But Dean was blind.

“That's right,” Dean remarked with a cold whisper, “I'm very good at fixing things and breaking things.” He gave you a stern look. 

Sam smiled and nodded nervously, for it was true that you and Ruby were close enough. You had the impression that everything was going well for him. But Dean instantly entwined, saying, “Jo and I weren't a thing.” When he used the past tense, you scowled, and he saw the look of perplexity on your face. You stopped asking questions after that. He would soon find another partner. You were surprised he dated with her that long. 

You asked Robert, “Do you have any plans for Halloween?” to change the topic. 

You were wondering whether Robb had any plans for Halloween because you had never spent the holiday with Sam and Dean before. He loved cosplaying and was always coming up with the funniest and most original outfits compared to other people. To him, it was much like a hobby. You were better than him at thinking of the worst possible ideas, but it was still an enjoyable activity. 

“Yes, without a doubt.” Robb swallowed the piece and took a drink of wine. “My costume is ready,” he declared with excitement. “By the way, I met an old friend of mine yesterday, and he informed me that he would be throwing a party this week. God, he told me some strange things.”

“Like what?” Sam cut him off. He sounded both interested and suspicious. 

“I'm going to tell you what he told me, and I really hope you guys don't laugh at me. In any case, he told me that his house is definitely haunted. Not that I buy this garbage, but in the previous three years, there have been three murders that have all occurred in the same room during Halloween.”

Your eyes met Dean's, and Robert laughed shamefacedly, as if he were having trouble believing what he was saying since he has never believed in the supernatural events. Dean's excitement-filled eyes and altered posture suggested that he was missing hunting. You two hadn't spent any time together in a while.

“It may be a serial killing,” Sam guessed. “Who has been arrested for the murders? Any witnesses or suspects?”

“That's the unusual part,” Robb stated. “Neither witnesses nor suspects are there. If a killer exists, there was not a single piece of evidence that may lead the police to them. All guests over the past three years have been thoroughly investigated, but not a single person has been identified as a suspect. Given the killings, my buddy Jordan purchased the house a year ago for a rather low price. Although they haven't had any events in a while, it appears that the owners have made the decision to get rid of it.”

Before you could say a thing, Dean inquired, “How did those people die? Has your friend provided you with any details?”

“Yeah, it is sick. Every year, the victims had been discovered in the same room, nude on the bed. There's a high chance they were killed while having sex. Perhaps it's a one-person job, but for heaven's sake, I can't say a damn thing until I analyze the victims' bodies and determine just how they were killed. He informed me that a woman had been killed in the same room years before. I suppose this is the reason why people believe the house is certainly haunted. I don’t know man.”

“And your friend wants to organize a Halloween party in the same house?” Dean asked, surprised. He was still shocked that people were so keen on doing all the wrong things. 

“Indeed,” Robb replied. “But we're not going to use that room. He'll exercise caution with this. All he wants to do this week is plan an awesome Halloween party. If it's okay with you, I'd want to invite the rest of you as well. No pressure.”

“We'll be there, of course,” Dean said immediately. He was thrilled that Sam and he got the invitation.

You give Dean a nod as he looks at you to see whether you're comfortable with it. This mysterious situation, including ghosts, might strengthen your relationship with Dean and help you two become as you once were. You were desperate for it, and the thought of acting like someone else excited you. It had been a long time. 

It was pleasant enough for the rest of the evening. Dean stopped being hostile toward Robert and didn't say anything to make you feel uncomfortable. While Robb and Sam were deep in conversation, he continued to stare at you. You were full, yet you continued to fiddle with your meal as you frequently glanced at Dean. That being said, you didn't know why he was staring at you weirdly. You couldn't help but imagine your fingertips lingering over his pointed jaw as you saw how wonderful he looked in his tight t-shirt and freshly shaven face. Your cheeks were hot from the strange ideas that were running through your mind.

You wished that you had also changed into new clothing. Damn. You smelled like a hospital; that much was certain. No one liked the hospital smell. Dean has often told you how much he despised that smell. Just like he made you feel exciting, you desperately wanted him to feel the same about yourself. However, one thing he didn't enjoy was the scent of your hospital.

Dean stared at you with anticipation, just after Robert had told Sam and Dean that he had to go and thanked them for their hospitality. You got the message. Undoubtedly, you had to bring up that Halloween party Robb brought up. There were things that had to be discussed beforehand.

“I guess I'll stay here for the night,” you said to Robb. “I'm too tired to move right now.”

He thanked Dean again, didn't ask any questions, shook hands with both of them, and departed the home, leaving you and the Winchester Brothers by alone. Before he went away, you gestured that you would give him a call soon.

You took a big breath once the door closed, satisfied that the dinner had gone well enough. At that point, you needed to sleep and recharge since your feet and back were starting to hurt. To get rid of your overwhelming scent, though, you had to take a quick shower first.

Sam said, “I will not be coming to the party with you guys,” before you could say anything. “I wish I could. But I promised Ruby that I would be hanging out with her and her pals that day. I cannot change the plans now.”

"It's okay." It surprised you both when Dean smiled at him and said, “You don't have to change your plans.” Sam joining him on hunting was something he was usually quite obsessed with, but this time he didn't even argue with him.

“Really?” inquired Sam. He shared your shock.

“Yes. I'm certain Y/N and I can handle this crap. It will be simple. You shouldn't disappoint your girlfriend.”

You looked at Dean's face, and you arched an eyebrow. He appeared quite serious. Sam gave him a skeptical glance. He was about to leave the room after saying good night to both of you and realizing that Dean was truly being thoughtful and kind, but you stopped him.

“Could you please give me one of your t-shirts, Sam?” You asked shyly as you assisted Dean in clearing the table, “I think I need to take a shower.” You didn't want to wait to take a shower for another minute because you were afraid Dean would smell your sweat and the hospital fragrance while he was that close.

Dean said, “I could give you—” but Sam intervened.

“Sure. I’ll put it on your bed. Alright?”

“Thanks, Sam,” you said, casting him a friendly glance.

You reasoned that asking Dean for anything to wear would be strange given what had transpired between you and him. Whether or not he broke up with Jo didn't matter. You had to establish some limits if you both wished to keep your friendship healthy. You had, after all, stepped over a pretty fragile line. It could be harmless to wear his t-shirt, but there was no reason to get your hopes up and think delusional things. You were normal before you had sex, even though you occasionally wore his clothing. So much had changed by now.

Even though Dean told you to sit down and rest after Sam left the room, you persisted in helping him clean the table. Robb occasionally attempted to get under Dean's nerves, and Dean responded with the same ferocity, but he unexpectedly played well. He didn't usually say pleasant things of people he didn't like, but he even cooked for him and did his best.

He broke the silence as soon as he noticed you carrying the last glass and handing it to him, shortly after he began to slowly wash the dishes. You were fascinated with his physique and thick wrists, yet you attempted to divert your attention to something else before he could see you staring at his body.

His abrupt question, “So, are you satisfied?” made you tense up in shame.

You naively said, “What?” not realizing what he was getting at.

When Dean turned to face you and saw your confusion, he had to force himself not to chuckle. “The dinner. I think I did well there, huh?”

You ignored the dirty thoughts that were running through your head, focusing solely on the conversation as you picked up on the arrogance in his tone. You suppressed your nervousness as you wondered whether he was intentionally attempting to make you feel shy.

“Yes. Dean, it was wonderful. Thanks for inviting Robb. I'm glad we had such an enjoyable time together,” you said genuine, smiling a little at him.

Instead of looking him in the eye as you hurriedly watched him wash the dishes, you continued to see his rough hands soaked in water. Your mind was contemplating things you'd be embarrassed to admit, even though you were trying to focus on the talk. You bit your lips out of tension and eventually turned away from him, folding your arms over your chest when he curled his fingers around a glass. As quickly as you could, you had to wash your dirty mind of filthy ideas.

“Yeah?” he murmured, surprised by the praise, which didn't appear to have enough impression. “You didn't care to give the generous hug there, though.”

Without intending to offend, Dean had to bring it up. He kept his mind occupied during the dinner with the way you left him feeling as though you were far more distant than before. He couldn't keep wondering why you were acting the way you were, even if it wasn't really that important.

Surprised by the way of the embrace you ran from he mentioned, you opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. The cause of it was not something that could be easily explained, almost as if discussing it was forbidden. To clear your head and avoid saying anything absurd, you took a deep breath.

“I just smelled bad. I didn't want to bother you with it,” you eventually said. Although you weren't being quite honest with him, it was accurate enough.

“What smell?” With a perplexed tone, Dean inquired about as he quickly wiped dry his hands with a towel.

You tried to say it an amused way to cover your shyness, “Sweat and hospital smell, you know,” but you were embarrassed to admit it. “You always say it makes you throw up.”

The way he complained about the hospital and its stench didn't bother you months ago when you first met him, and he brought it up immediately, but by the time you fell in love with him, you could see how much he hated it and the way he portrayed it. When your shift finished and he was around, you tried your best to be cautious and avoid physical contact. However, you arrived at the house without having had time to change into new clothing or take a shower this evening. It was one of your insecurities.

Not that you held him responsible for it. After all, everyone disliked things for various reasons. You didn't take it personally.

“What? I-” Dean questioned in a hushed voice, as if that were the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. While he remembered the things he had said to you while you were close to him immediately following the end of your shift, his heart felt heavy. He didn't mean to offend you. Never.

He moved in your direction, holding the towel in one hand. You could not have merely run away from him this time since your legs did not receive any signals from your brain on how to move as he drew closer. “It's just... I didn't mean to hurt you. I would never.”

He stopped in front of you, and you felt caged, your back touching the kitchen sink. To meet his gaze, you had to raise your head. Your hands, not knowing where to rest, began to linger on the surface of the kitchen sink, where Dean had placed the towel. You knew you would touch him if you could only get your hands to move a bit. A little gasp was visible between your hands. But you could never have the guts to approach him in that way. Your hands paused there so as not to make the wrong action.

Dean smelled you now, but he didn't take a deep breath so as not to disturb you. You did smell like a hospital, but it was in a nice, fresh way. It was just sweet somehow. He didn't care whether you smelled blood and sweat. Your hair had become messy due to your job, and your overall scent made you appear...nicer. Perhaps in order to make a wise decision, he needed to have gotten a bit closer.

Stating that “I didn't say this to bother you.” To soften the air, you gave him a kind smile. “Do you want to talk about that Halloween party?” You asked to change the subject in order to break the distance a little between you and Dean; otherwise, your heart could burst because of anxiety and excitement anytime.

Dean didn't say anything as he saw you feeling uncomfortable, but his face fell. “I suppose we should first decide what to wear,” he commented, folding his arms over his broad chest.

“I have an idea for what to wear already.”

This time, you were unable to help but smile genuinely. Even if you lacked creativity, at least you had a sense of humor. That was also remarkable.

“Oh, yeah?” Curious about what you were up to, Dean chuckled. “What's your idea?”

“You'll see,” and you chuckled along with him. He was happy to see your former attitude returning. This was something he had missed.

You kept talking to Dean about what to do as Halloween Week drew nearer so you wouldn't make a mistake and ruin everything. It would place you both in a very difficult situation. For your sake as much as his own, Dean took great care to hunt down ghosts and to look after his car.

As you adjusted your costume and red lingerie, you took one final glance at yourself in the mirror. It had enough fake blood on it. While you and Dean attempted to find the ghost, you prayed that you wouldn't fall on your ass wearing the red high heels. Of course, if there was one at all. You also had to be careful when moving in the outfit because it was barely covering your legs. You were unsure whether your choice of a seductive, bleeding nurse costume was a mistake.

You knew Dean had come when he called. As you got into the front seat, your heart was racing crazily. He muttered something behind his mask, but you were too busy fighting to keep your costume from baring off too much of your flesh to understand it.

“What are you wearing?” you said, perplexed as you peered at his black cloak and mask. It was almost invisible in the darkness.

“I am Batman,” he responded in a rather aggressive manner, his hands motionless on the driving wheel as he continued to study your lace and revealing clothing. “It is expected of us to pretend like someone else. It's the concept. How are you even expected to move in this, by the way?”

Arms crossed across your chest, and you felt like you had to defend yourself. “I am pretending that I'm a sexy killer nurse, Dean.”

Sighing, Dean stopped from mentioning that you'd move more easily in a Catwoman outfit. He only said, trying not to look at your naked legs and lingerie, “Alright, sexy killer nurse. Let's go.”

Upon arriving in the house, you couldn't help but gawk at the people enjoying themselves by the pool and around the house; they were drinking, dancing, and sharing kisses everywhere they were. You could only see Dean's long cloak and mask, which covered half of his face, in the dim lighting. Whether it was anxiousness or anything else, he was biting his lips invitingly.

You said, “So,” as you glanced around the house and the entire people. Because of the loud music, it was difficult to hear your own speaking. “What are we going to do now?”

Nobody welcomed Dean or you when you entered the home. Everyone seemed to be going about their business as usual. Turning your face away, you watched other people taking cracks. Oh god.

The mood was gloomy, and the music was loud. You saw that the majority of people had frightening symbols painted on their faces. Even though ghost hunting was plainly meant to be more frightening, watching people continue to use drugs and drink made you feel nervous. The majority of their costumes were gorgeous, though, and you selected a few as your favorites. The ones you loved most were the ones with Princess Leia, the Shrek and Fiona pair, the Tree costume, the Hamburger one, Gimli, and Legolas costumes. They were exceptionally good.

Dean said, “Come with me,” gesturing for you to follow him upstairs. “We need to find that room.”

“This house is quite big though.” You took his cape in your hands and helped him move more easily. “There must be a lot of room,” you said.

As you climbed upstairs, the number of people in the corridor decreased, and Dean appeared to be looking for something. Even though you had no acknowledgment of what he was doing, you continued to follow him. You said nothing about how his cape made him appear a little funny.

Dean went past the rooms and opened each door one by one. Fortunately, though, there weren't many. “What are you doing?” you eventually said, not completely comprehending his reasons for doing so.

Dean explained, “We need to lock the door or do something else to prevent those teens from trying something funny.”

Those people trying to fuck each other in the same room where someone was murdered wouldn't be unexpected. As soon as Dean opened the doors, every person in the room complained, and he instantly apologized not to make a scene. While some of them were becoming drunk, others were acting in ways that instantly made you look away.

When one of the doors Dean attempted to get open was locked, you exchanged meaningful glances. “This room has to be it,” Dean stated with confidence.

“All right,” he said, reaching into his pockets to get a tool to unlock the door. “A little bit of coverage would work fine.”

As Dean began working on the door, you turned to face the hallway. When he eventually unlocked it, you hurried to get into the room with him before he slammed the door behind you and turned on the lights. You gave Dean an inquiring look when he locked it again.

“To avoid being disturbed,” clarified Dean, clearing his throat.

As you realized the music wasn't playing too loudly in the room, you breathed deeply. There were too many things to dwell on, making it difficult to concentrate on anything.

When you realized that you and Dean were now in an awkward situation, you just touched the room's furnishings randomly to soften the mood. While attempting to avoid staring at your body and touching any objects in the room, Dean cleared his throat nerveously.

With a silent prayer that he wouldn't break anything significant, you said, “What are we going to do now?” You could feel the tenseness and need between your legs as you remembered Rob's words.

Robb informed you that every single one of the people mentioned died during coupling. It had to have a backstory, but for now it was insignificant. While you placed your hands on the shelf, you awaited Dean's reaction, which came when he removed his mask and placed it in his pants pocket. In his Batman outfit, he looked extraordinarily good. The silence grew, and your heart began to beat.

You finally had the guts to stand beside him so as to avoid adding to the awkward matter. You both turned to face the bed and said, “Do you think we can... fake it until we make it? I mean until the ghost appears?” He was clearly uncomfortable as well.

He reluctantly answered, "I guess that's what we are going to do," which hurt your feelings. It wasn't like you had planned to risk everything to that extent in search of a ghost. Even if you thought you were exposed a bit, you avoided saying anything that might have made things worse.

With a shaky voice, you said, “What should I do?” as your heels began to hurt.

With a grunt, Dean clenched his jaw and glared at the bed. You had no idea if he felt powerless due to the situation or whether it was because he would need to set boundaries with you after this once again. After all, he had been making an effort to maintain your friendship strong and ongoing. If you were less in love with him, you may agree to let him do it with someone else if it would make him feel better, even though you didn't have the strength to do it.

Disappointed, all you could do was sit on the bed and wait for Dean to come to help you so that, when you'd dealt with the ghost, you could either go back home or join the party.

You gasped in surprise as Dean finally moved and pushed you further on the bed while holding you by the hips. You raised your head to see his eyes. Your hands went straight to his shoulders for assistance. Dean slid his body between your legs, but he was extremely cautious not to put his weight on you. You let him take control. But your legs were spread wide apart due to how you were dressed, and you could feel the chill causing your thighs to shiver with cold. He could see your underwear and your lower body if he looked at them.

In your first time, there was no electricity in the room, so you couldn't even see each other properly. However, now that there was light, you could see each other so clearly that your heart was racing. You could spend as much time as you pleased studying each line and spot on his face. He appeared much more handsome.

The room suddenly felt cold while Dean waited on top of you, staring at you as well. It was difficult not to give him a clear sign by not glancing at his lips. It was impossible to resist the temptation to moisten your dry lips.

You broke the stillness with a whisper, “Do you think the ghost will appear?” Waiting there with nothing to do but stare at each other felt uneasy.

Dean only said, “I don't know,” while eyeing your lips. “I guess we have to act a little to trigger it.”

“It's okay,” you said, quickly nodding to him. You were instantly ashamed by how eager you sounded. Hope that he didn't cringe.

As you waited underneath him, almost half nude, Dean appeared rather serious and used both of his hands to steady himself. You prayed your heartbeat was not audible to him. You were going to melt beneath his body and go completely insane.

You gasped in anticipation as Dean's head began to draw closer to yours before you could ask him another question. You fought the urge to shut your eyes. That would have made it obvious what you needed, but you carried on to focus on his green eyes. He paused and put one hand on your legs as he felt his hot breath on your skin. His fingers gently made their way under your clothing and contacted the skin beneath them. Your hips were pleading with you to lift them and give the signal, but you pressed your lips shut to avoid making an excited sound. Dean was not placing himself between your legs; he was supporting his body with his hands, but you needed to feel his weight on you again.

His cloak touched your legs as your hands moved to each side of his belly, wrapping your body. You could taste his lips if you moved slightly since there wasn't much space between your lips. You kept your lips shut and tried to concentrate on your surroundings to feel if the ghost was around. There was nothing. Even if it wasn't helping the ghost, you were definitely wasted from the start. You pleaded with the ghost deep within not to show up and ruin your night until Dean took care of you. It was only one innocent prayer.

It was uncertain to you if Dean was having as much fun as you were. He appeared dead serious.

You hardly made any motion when Dean's lips touched yours, causing you to stay still beneath him. You hesitantly opened your mouth since your lips felt dry. You had to moisten them, but there was nothing you could do. It seemed as though your brain had given up working. You were waiting for Dean to take action, not realizing that you had already closed your eyes and were uninterested in the ghost or anybody else. You inhaled deeply as your heart raced with excitement, and when his lips brushed yours, your hands gripped his back even more firmly. Instead of moistening them in an attempt to torture you, Dean was simply rubbing your lips. He seemed to be testing your patience while waiting for you to take the lead.

Without thinking twice, you lifted your head and put your lips to Dean's, parting them wildly when they were too dry.

Once your lips were parted, Dean captured them wildly with his burning lips by delicately sucking the upper lip between his, giving soft bites. He bit your lower lip the same way again. With the same intensity, he followed your lead as you grabbed his upper lip and sucked like you were starving. On his lips, it was evident that your red lipstick was ruined. It appeared as though Dean was trying to get rid of the red color on your lips by sucking and biting them.

You let out a low moan as he finally put his tongue in your mouth with such force. His tongue was slowly but firmly invading your mouth, like if he meant to ruin you under him. Your hands, unable to think clearly any more, released his back and found his neck to draw him in closer than before.

Raising your hips of expressing to Dean that you were feeling desperate for anything to calm you down as you let him take control of the situation. Dean's touches were all that you needed. You hadn't touched him since the night you spent together. Your heart clenched with pain and desires.

Your moans were silent, and Dean's torment lingered on your lips. There were wet sounds all across the room, as if your tongues were striving for supremacy over one another. Your cheeks turned red as you focused on the obscene noises that your mouth made.

You were aware that the more he touched you, the more your emotions would consume you, and that you were never going to be able to get a response from him. But you tried to concentrate on the here and now, blocking off the past and future. To feel Dean a little bit longer was all that was necessary.

Dean got the message, and with a single move, his tongue was more dominant in your mouth the moment he pressed his hardness between your legs, finally making you feel him. His fingers were pulling your underwear rather aggressively now. It seemed as though you two lost control.

Although Dean knew he should have stopped and gathered himself, he wasn't finding it any easier when he sensed you were unintentionally attempting to find the pleasure. He was going wild by your tiny nursing dress and scarlet underwear. His body was yelling for him to have the much-needed relief. Ever since he fucked Jo that terrible night, he'd craved this. His body was wildly yearning for yours. It was hard for Dean to pull away. It didn't matter at that time why they had joined the party or why they were going to kill the ghost. It was difficult to stop his body from reacting to you while he was touching you in this way and seeing how ready you were to surrender to him.

Dean drew back, his tongue finding your neck and taking delicate bites that left your lips burning. You had to moan aloud this time as he sucked the delicate spot on your neck. When Dean suddenly pressed himself on you, you both moaned and felt your pussy throbbing.

He bit and sucked the most sensitive parts of your neck before glancing at your burning lips. He was harder than ever because your lipstick had been ruined and you were still holding out hope for him to continue.

Dean carefully put his fingers into your underwear while studying your response. All you did was gaze at him needily and passionately, yet he would stop at any moment if he sensed any hesitation on your part. There was no hesitation in your eyes, though. That was plenty to push Dean over the edge.

You both let out a gasp when he pushed his fingers into your panties. Just by kissing, you were shamefully wrecked, but you hoped it wasn't wrong.

“Dean,” you murmured quietly. He was too blind to notice your love for him, but your voice was nervous and full of love that you couldn't or wouldn't put into words. You wanted him to be nearer. You needed to know that he truly noticed you.

Without uttering a word, he kept rubbing you through your wet underwear while staring straight into your eyes and driving you insane. Placing your hands on his back, you recklessly widened your legs to give him a little extra space. You needed to give him more of what was left of you to feel him more. You would never, ever turn him down. He had to know that.

Dean inhaled deeply and then, unable to contain his throbbing cock any longer, slipped your moist panties aside to check your level of wetness, exposing you while he moved your body slightly to take up a better position. After having fucked you for the first time, he was in desperate need of that. His thoughts wanted you, and until he fucked Jo, he had no idea how wonderful it truly felt. Denying his surroundings and the place you were, Dean began to unzip himself with aggressive motions. Indeed, nothing matters. That was something you both needed. Right now.

He lowered your underwear just enough to expose your pussy, just enough to make your heart fall apart. Your body was shaking from excitement, nervousness, and cold. You waited for Dean to release his hardened cock while placing your unsteady hands on his broad shoulders. You inhaled deeply and made an effort to reduce your stress. You kept your eyes on him the entire time. Considering that he didn't use his fingers this time, you assumed it would happen quickly. Perhaps it was because you got used to his size.

With a swift motion, Dean lowered his pants to allow him to properly move on top of you and free his cock. He gave himself two or three strong strokes and moved your body somewhat further on the bed. He was getting ready himself as you were trying to regain your breath and admiring his attractive features. You would provide him with anything he needed or desired from you.

It didn't matter why you had come to this house or what your purpose was. Just the you and him. He saw you already becoming lost in the moment without closing his eyes. There was no need for words.

After giving you one more glance, Dean gently put his lips to yours, but this time he didn't kiss you. You gasped at the sensation of the cock's head on your entrance. Although you were no longer a virgin, your body felt stiffened. After all, you had only had sex once in your life. You have no prior knowledge of what to do or exactly what is expected.

When you tightened up even more, Dean scowled and sighed. He could see you had become soaked and practically pouring there, and your body was pleading with him to get in, but you were refusing to allow him. He pulled back his cock's head, and then he slightly pushed harder once again. You nailed his shoulders in a panic. He immediately pulled back upon noticing your distressed expression.

“Come on, you're wet enough,” Dean pressed his lips to yours. “Relax a little. Let me in.”

Your eyes got teary a little, but you weren't sure if it was from fear of disappointing him or of doing poorly. This seemed a little more distant than the first time, for some reason. You felt vulnerable. Sighing, you pressed your head into his neck to keep your face hidden and concentrated on calming down the way Dean asked. Your hands were shaking on his back.

He praised you, “Good girl,” and carefully pushed his cock inside your pussy once more. You were overcome with emotions, even though his movements were considerate and gentle to put you at ease. Dean kept praising you and said, “You're doing so good,” when he noticed that you were beginning to loosen up and let him in. “Almost there. Just a little bit more.”

“How come you're so tight?” When he finally managed to push himself fully inside of you, Dean asked with a groan and a tinge of disbelief and confusion in his tone. He pulled back, then gave it a single shove to get his cock within. You put your lips to his neck and pressed in your moans.

Dean waited inside for a while after he completely pushed his cock to allow you some time to catch your breath. Dean was certain he wouldn't last long because of how tightly you were clenching around him. He inhaled deeply and buried his head on your neck to avoid coming too soon. He had to make sure you got what you needed.

“You okay?” When you eventually start to calm down, Dean asked softly. He held back, even though he was going crazy to move already.

You silently nodded "yes," waiting for him to continue.

Your body was hot and yearning for pleasure, but unlike the previous time, you were unable to stop sorrow from taking over your heart and making you feel nearly awful. You didn't understand what was wrong with you. Dean was all you needed, and he was right here, inside of you, kissing you the way you wanted. You were touching each other like you had always wanted. But you had a feeling that it wasn't what you had hoped for or expected.

Dean took a moment to draw back slightly before pushing again, just to make sure you were ready. Instead of closing his eyes, he made every effort to focus on his surroundings and the sounds that surrounded him. He wanted to see your lovely and flushed face the entire time and watch your desire, but he had to keep his eyes on the surroundings and not lose himself watching you since there was a strong chance that he might be stopped at any moment by a ghost. As much as possible, he had to maintain his composure and act responsibly.

You heard Dean moan in a low voice as he began to move on top of you, as if he wanted to maintain his composure and not get carried away with what was happening. You were facing his neck as he shifted on top of you, so you gently pushed your lips there as he pounded his hard cock inside of you.

Your bodies created loud noises, and Dean's hands waited on your cheeks as if he were doing his hardest to please you. His cloak concealed your bodies as your legs were wrapped around his back. You were clenching around him constantly and getting wetter by the second, but you were not able to experience the intimacy you so much craved. With desperation and affection, your shaky hands found his jaw and caressed him. Eventually, you worked up the strength to try to bring his face toward you so you could kiss him.

Dean resisted your touch, gently pushing your hands away as he accelerated his pace inside of you.

Your mind raced with ideas as sadness shattered your mind and soul; you let go hands away with shame, with a heavy heart. You stopped kissing his neck since you didn't know where to place your hands anymore and waited beneath him so that he could at least enjoy himself. You were unsure about what to do. If he led you, it would be better. He began to groan as his rhythm intensified, but you forced yourself not to touch him. Your soul was wrecked by rejection.

Even though your body enjoyed being with him and the image of his enjoying himself on your body thrilled you, you were unable to stop those awful thoughts from racing through your head. It seemed as though your soul was being torn apart. This seemed less intimate than the first time. Your eyes uncontrollably started to well up with tears as your heart began to hurt so much. Being in Dean's arms and caressing him was something you had craved, but every time you felt like you were slipping further away.

You got consumed in your own thoughts and found it difficult to get the bravery to look into Dean's face. You wanted him to feel good. You needed him to enjoy you and what you were doing.

You found yourself sobbing aloud, just when Dean's motions inside of you became sloppy and his hands tightened around yours.

Dean froze on you the instant he heard your sobbing and cautiously pulled off his cock. Dean muttered, “Fuck!” upon seeing your face. His tone and the way he was staring at you made it clear that he was terrified and concerned.

You wept, trying to draw him back with trembling hands, but he resisted. “I'm sorry,” you said. You were embarrassed to let your vulnerability ruin the long-awaited situation.

“Hey, calm down,” Dean mumbled as he hastily tucked himself in his pants to take good care of you and figure out what was happening.

Even if you stated, “I'm alright. I swear, Dean,” he just regretfully fixed your clothes and underwear carefully. He shouldn't have let things get out of hand. He was unable to remember if he hurt you by moving too quickly or too roughly. His heart was heavy with regret at seeing your teary cheeks and hurt face. He had messed up badly this time.

You felt like a spoilt child getting help from him. Your legs were shaking from anxiety and cold, and you simply felt horrible. You couldn't contain your emotions and kept crying longer since he didn't even finish, and you made him feel bad rather than satisfying him. You weren't sure if you were actually ill or just lovesick. You just ruined a chance to spend good time with Dean, something you can no longer afford.

You sobbed more because you knew he would probably not touch you again.

He said in agony, “You're trembling,” and helped you sit on the bed.

Not even your bed, nor his.

Just as you were going to persuade him, you felt so bad that you had no energy left to utter any more lies. You were sick.

Dean waited silently, contemplating the events that had transpired five minutes ago and unsure of how to respond to handle it. He was as confused about what was happening. It was possible that Dean was being harsh with you, even if he didn't think so. He glared and sighed with regret at the thought of perhaps physically harming you. All he knew was that something was wrong. He didn't speak or touch you to avoid making you feel worse.

He was lost in thought and simply waited alongside you. Then someone knocked the door.

Next Chapter

⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆───⛥───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───⛥───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───⛥───⋆

A/N: That was a looong-ass chapter huhh.. I thought about rewriting many times, but here we are. Please, let me know what you think about this one. Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! Remember writers have a praise kink, haha. ^^

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[figsnpassionfruits]

Paint Away, My Little Dove

A/N: welcome to my very first imagine. This takes place right away the gang arrives at Horseshoe Overlook. It is somewhat canon but you will figure that out as you read. English is not my first language, so in case there is anything you notice, please message me! I hope you enjoy as much as I enjoyed writing this <3 word count: 2k tags: arthur morgan x fem!reader, fluff, age gap dividers by: @strangergraphics-archive pictures are from pinterest

Oh yes, the fields of Big Valley. What a sight they were. Each careful brush stroke you were making was an attempt to recreate the unforgettable beauty of the scenery in front of you. The love-songs of the birds around you filled the silence in the air as you dipped your brush into one color, then into another, to create the shade you needed for the details of the Bluebonnets. All day you’ve been sitting on your small wooden stool, your glutes and back slightly sore, but the will to finish this piece before the sun went down was stronger than the pain.  

Your two horses were to your side, roaming around the violet flower field. In order to make them comfortable you had removed them from your wagon and their reigns. Every once in a while, you would hear their hooves stomp on the ground as they were snacking on the fresh grass. Spring was just starting to come in. ‘The grass must be tasting sweet for them’, you thought to yourself.

Most of your days were spent like this. It included finding a pretty spot with different elements of nature, such as mountains, trees, riverbanks and forests. Then you would proceed to paint it on your canvases. Some paintings were small enough to fit into a saddlebag, others big enough to compliment homes. Your wagon was able to stash all your supplies and works. At the end of each day, you would pack up everything, set up a camp, and sleep, excited to see where the next day and trail would bring you to. After the soreness in your wrists starts to settle in, building up too much discomfort to ignore, you would go into the nearby town to sell your art. Earning a living with art is not necessarily easy, but it is most definitely amusing, especially when you encounter folks who do not really know about the value of it. Therefore you knew your target group: People with too much money in their pockets who do not question the overly-expensive prices. Sure, sometimes it would work, other times it would not. But it was enough to get you food to fill your belly and the supplies you needed to get by.

Scrunching your eyebrows, you swat away the bees buzzing near your ear, annoyed at them pulling you out of your focus.

“What’cha painting there?”

“Whatever is in front of me…” You mumbled. You couldn’t help but let out a tiny sigh, followed by small eyeroll, before turning around swiftly, facing the stranger who asked. “Could you please leave?”

“Excuse me?” He chuckled.

Placing your brush on the small wooden plate of the stand in front of you, you rubbed your temple. “I apologize-“ You giggled. “I just get so caught up in my work. Can’t afford no distractions.”

“Aghhh” The stranger groaned, getting down from his horse, “I get it. No apology needed.” He said, putting his hands up in a light-hearted way, as he kept walking towards you. By closing the distance between both of you, you allowed yourself to take a better look at him, analyzing his clothes, trying to understand who or what he was. Maybe a potential customer? What price range could you offer him, which would be enough to profit you, but not too much to the point of scaring him away. Or maybe, he was perhaps just a curious man, intrigued by people. In that case, offering him a price was maybe not a necessary thing to do. Weighing out your options, you decided to be blunt and tell him right away.

“Seventy-five for this one.”

The stranger took a step back, looking back and forth between you and the unfished painting. “Seventy-five?!” He exclaimed. “The yellow in that better be liquid gold.”

A small shrug with a self-satisfied smile is what he got in return.

He was indeed very handsome. Broad shoulder that stretched his shirt, beautiful light eyes that could reflect objects in his vision like a mirror and a mustache slightly longer than his stubble. He seemed like a well-groomed man. Well-groomed usually equivalents to a decent amount of money. Unless he was a con-artist.

“Beautiful horses ya got there” He nodded over to the direction of where your wagon was placed.

Following his point of direction, you turned around. Those horses really were beautiful, such as the bond you had with them. “Thank you.” You replied softly.

A small moment of silence occurred as you both individually took in the scenery and everything nature had to offer for you. It truly was beautiful. The way the snowy mountains up north were looking over the river, which was flowing through the flower field, seemed unreal. The combined sounds of the birds, bears, coyotes, deer and bees further blocked out your other senses. It was peace.

“How come you haven’t painted ‘em?”

“Hm?” You hummed.

A small giggle left his lips as he smiled, his eyes glued to his slightly dirt-covered boots for a split second. “Ya horses. How come you haven’t painted ‘em?” He repeated, kicking a few small stones around.

“Oh- I guess… I just like sticking to landscapes. Haven’t really figured out how to make the animals look good.” You admitted.

He nodded understandingly, his gaze roaming around the fields again. Unexpectedly, he took another step towards you, offering you his wide and strong looking hand. “Arthur Morgan”

You waited for a second yet flashed him a small smile right before you bit your lip. “Y/N L/N” The corners of your lips quirked up as you shook the hand in front of you with your own.

Arthur stepped away, tilting his hat down as a polite gesture. “See ya around, Miss.”

“See you, Mr. Morgan.”

..................................................

Valentine… What a lively little town. It had everything you’d need to make a home. A butcher, a store, livestock, a stable and even a saloon. Yet, this was not something you could think about. Having no one to lean on to was not the most uncomplicated thing in the world. But it does allow you to harden your shell and intuitively create different paths of survival. Travelling around was yours.

You had set up a small stand near the theatre, your paintings displayed for every passing person to see. Your horses were in the stable, getting treatments you could never afford for yourself. After all, they were the ones doing all the pulling and walking. If anyone deserves a day off like that, it was them. Strangers would pass by, some only glancing at your creations, others stopping for a few only to admire them. And then they were people who bought. The local folks here had already gotten used to you. This was a great spot to sell, especially during the tourist seasons. The hotel was never empty during this time of the year. The fancy and rich from up north loved the sun. So, to take advantage of those, you would come here twice a year. Anytime they would show up, you were here as well. Waiting for potential customers could get a tad bit boring but sitting on a nice cushion helped.

You were picking out the dirt from under your nails when precipitously the Sheriffs frame came into your sight.

“Miss L/N! How are you this fine afternoon?” He cheered as he walked past.

“Thank you, Sheriff, I am fine.” You smiled back at him, finally leaving your nails alone. Your eyes followed his strut, trying to block out your envy. He was a man after all. Being a woman in these times was not easy. A home was something you could only dream of if you belonged to a man, whether that is being a daughter or a wife. Legally owning property? That was not anything that women should even be thinking of.

The sound of wooden wheels rolling and cheery singing of female voices made you glance towards the direction it came from. It was a wagon, its back filled with women, each more gorgeous than the other, while the front had two men seated on it. Once the movement and tunes came to a halt, everyone on it got off, splitting ways on where to go. Yet one of the men came right towards you.

“Miss L/N.” Arthur greeted, trailing to you and your tiny gallery.

Attempting to block out the sun with your hand, you smiled up at him from your cushion. “Hello, Mr. Morgan. Changed your mind on the seventy-five dollars?”

“God, no.” He snickered, bending down to take a better look at one of the smaller paintings. The lake portrayed in it seemed familiar to him. ‘Of course’ Arthur thought. ‘How could I forget this place.’. It was the small cabin at O’Creagh’s Run, which belonged to the veteran he occasionally hunted with.

“You seem to like that one, though.” You pointed out.

“Ya didn’t say this was seventy-five. Scared me off with the one from Big Valley.”

‘Yeah, maybe that was a bit too much.’ You pondered as you clicked your tongue. Before allowing silence to settle in, you asked him what he was doing here.

“Could ask you the same thing.” He said amused.

Even though you only had two conversations with this man, it was fun. The back-and-forth banter was not something everyone could keep up with you, let alone a man who would not get offended by a sassy woman.

“I get by here usually twice a year. The tourists love the landscapes. Makes their homes look nice. You should try.” You suggested.

Arthur let out a small chuckle, this time thoroughly taking his time looking through your art. His gaze was fixated on the smaller canvases. One of those could fit nicely into his saddlebag. Not that he had the space for a bigger piece. Roaming his eyes between two, one that looked similar to the Dakota River, the other a smaller version of the floral area around O’Creagh’s Run. The positive association of his friendship with the veteran Hamish made him point at the second one. “I like that one.”

You turned, picking up the named piece. “This one I would give out for fifty, since it is obviously smaller. But for you, since we are now associates,” You giggled “I will hand it out for… thirty-five.”

Even though this offer was better than the other, Arthur could not help but shake his head, a smile not going unnoticed. “Alright, alright.” He pulled out the money from his pocket. “Only because it’s near a friends house.”

You took his money, whispering the numbers while counting. “Hamish?” You asked.

“Yeah.” It sounded more like a question than a statement. “Ya know the old fella?” Arthur questioned, while taking the painting into his hand.

You hummed, putting the money into your small leather purse. “He took me in one night while I was freezing up there. Sometimes a tiny camp is just not enough. Ever since then I see him as my pa. He’s the sweetest.” You explained, keeping eye contact with Arthur. This was the longest you have had continuously looked at him. His good looks you already have noticed the first day you met. But today, it seemed to sink in. The question of what he was- you still could not answer. “I will head back to him soon. Been out here for weeks now. He must be really worried, too.”

‘That makes sense.’ He thought. No wonder he has not seen you with Hamish before.

“Well, thank you for buying something, Mr. Morgan.” You smiled.

“Please, call me Arthur.”

- 🍯

[amethystarachnid]

I have an idea for this Accidental Roommates AU (example: both character and reader book the same apartment and are now roommates), and I hope this makes sense to you! So, it's with Tony&fem!reader. They'll turn into a lovely couple after some time, and adopt a kitten/cat together? Tony Stark is the biggest cat dad in the world, and no one will convince me otherwise hehe.

Thank you! 🧡 (or you can ignore this)

ROOM FOR TWO - part I

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Multiverse

ᯓ★ Story type: short fanfic

ᯓ★ Word count: 6k

ᯓ★ Summary: Finding out that the apartment you were supposed to live in is overbooked isn't the best way to start college, especially if your roommate it Tony Stark in all his arrogance. Will things between you two change when you have to co-parent a stray kitten?

ᯓ★ part II

ᯓ★ TW(s): pure fluff

ᯓ★ AU: Accidental roommates

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

A campus rental, small and cozy, isn’t what you pictured when you imagined your first college apartment. The place is narrow, the walls are beige, and the furniture is outdated—but it’s private. Or so you thought.

When you first walk in, your suitcase bumping against the doorframe, you’re ready to start unpacking, excited about this small taste of independence. But before you make it past the entryway, you hear footsteps and a muttered curse.

Then you see him. Standing in the doorway to the kitchen, staring at you like you’re the one who doesn’t belong here.

“What are you doing here?” he asks. His voice is sharp, confused, and a little annoyed. He’s got dark hair that’s messily falling into his eyes and he’s wearing a band T-shirt, ripped and faded like it’s been through too many wash cycles. His jeans are equally worn, fitting him a little too well, and he has this stance—relaxed but tense at the same time—that suggests he isn’t someone who’s often surprised. You know who he is, of course. He’s in your engineering class, always the one who asks questions so far above everyone’s heads that even the professor sometimes looks thrown.

“Um… I live here?” You don’t mean to make it sound like a question, but it kind of is. Because despite the paperwork in your bag and the email from the landlord, this feels wrong. Or at the very least, unexpected.

“No, you don’t,” he counters, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow. “I do.”

You shake your head, forcing yourself to stand a little straighter. “I signed the lease last month. I have emails and everything.”

“Yeah?” He pulls out his phone, scrolling with one hand before he flashes his screen toward you. “So did I.”

You squint, trying to make out the details through the faint glare. And then it hits you. Your landlord—the one who’d been juggling your papers at your first meeting, his glasses slipping down his nose as he talked in circles about tenant rights and late fees—must have double-booked the apartment.

Great.

Tony sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, this has to be some kind of clerical error. I’ll call the landlord and sort it out. This isn’t—” he gestures to you, almost like he’s waving you off, “—what I signed up for.”

“Hey,” you say, putting a hand on your hip. “I didn’t sign up for this either. You think I wanted a roommate?”

“Considering I was promised a solo apartment? No.” He rolls his eyes, the look almost theatrical. But there’s something tired in it, something that tells you he’s just as put out as you are.

You cross your arms and look him over, not backing down. “Fine. Call him.”

He stares at you for a second, like he’s trying to figure out why you’re challenging him, before he pulls up his phone again. He dials, waits for a second, and then mutters a low curse when he’s sent to voicemail. “Of course,” he grumbles. “The guy’s probably out somewhere completely unreachable.”

“Figures,” you mutter back. “This is a disaster.”

Tony shoves his phone back into his pocket and leans against the counter, watching you with a resigned sort of amusement. “Well, I don’t have anywhere else to go. And unless you’re secretly a millionaire with a spare apartment lined up, I’m guessing you don’t either.”

The sarcasm in his voice makes you narrow your eyes. “I have a backup plan, thank you very much,” you lie, because you’d rather not give him the satisfaction of thinking he’s got the upper hand here. But he’s not buying it. The way he’s smirking tells you that much.

“Right,” he says, dragging out the word, “but if you’re planning on staying at this backup plan, you’d better let me know soon because I’d rather not waste time unpacking if I’ll be the only one here.”

You bite back an irritated response, taking a deep breath instead. “Look,” you start, forcing yourself to be diplomatic, “why don’t we just… figure this out later? The landlord will be available at some point, and we can get this sorted then.”

“Fine by me,” he replies with a careless shrug, but you notice his eyes linger on you a little longer than you expect. “So what’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you reply shortly, unsure if you want to give him any more than that just yet.

“Tony,” he says. There’s something about the way he says it that feels almost like a challenge, like he’s waiting to see how you’ll respond.

But you just nod, trying to ignore the way he’s sizing you up, like he’s deciding whether you’re friend or foe. You’re here to study, to focus on your degree—not to get tangled up in whatever Tony Stark’s got going on.

“So, um…” You gesture around the apartment awkwardly, not really sure what to do next. “I guess we should… set some ground rules?”

“Sure.” He pushes off the counter and stands in the middle of the small kitchen, arms folded as he looks at you expectantly. “You start.”

“Alright,” you say, steeling yourself. “Number one: respect each other’s space.”

He nods, almost a bit too seriously. “Agreed. Number two: no loud music after ten.”

You arch a brow, half-smiling. “Already calling me a party animal?”

Tony shrugs, unbothered. “I’ve seen you in class. You don’t look like the type who needs extra chaos, that’s all.”

You’re not sure if it’s a compliment or a jab, but you let it slide. “Number three: split the cleaning. I’m not a maid, and I don’t plan on cleaning up after you.”

“Noted.” He holds up his hands in a mock defensive gesture. “I’m pretty tidy anyway.”

“Good.” You cross your arms, feeling slightly more in control of the situation now that you’re laying down some structure. “Number four: don’t touch my food.”

He smirks at that, leaning a little closer. “You think I want your ramen?”

“It’s very good ramen,” you retort, bristling a bit at the implication.

“Sure, sure,” he says, grinning now. “Anything else?”

“Not for now,” you say, though you know there are probably a dozen more things you could add. But you’ll figure those out as you go. For now, you just want to unpack and get this over with.

“Cool,” he says, nodding in agreement. He turns, heading toward the living area, which also serves as a shared bedroom thanks to a convertible couch and a twin bed crammed into one corner. “So, who gets the couch?”

You hesitate, looking between the couch and the twin bed. The bed is closer to the window, which would be nice, but the couch has more privacy since it’s further from the door. “Uh… maybe we take turns?”

Tony snorts, plopping himself down on the couch and stretching out, arms folded behind his head. “I’m good here,” he says with a smirk, like he’s already staked his claim.

Your irritation flares again, but you let it go, deciding that it’s not worth the fight. “Fine. I’ll take the bed.”

“Perfect.” He doesn’t even open his eyes, clearly satisfied with the arrangement.

You grab your suitcase and start unpacking your things into the small dresser on the far side of the room. Every now and then, you catch him watching you from the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t say anything.

The silence stretches out, a little too heavy and a little too tense, until you can’t take it anymore.

“So,” you say, desperate for a distraction, “what’s your major?”

“Mechanical engineering,” he replies without missing a beat. “What about you?”

“Engineering, too,” you say, feeling a bit relieved that you have something in common. But he just raises an eyebrow, like he’s not sure if he’s impressed or skeptical.

“Didn’t peg you as the type,” he says, his tone teasing but not unkind.

You laugh a little, rolling your eyes. “Yeah? And what’s ‘the type’?”

He shrugs. “Just… different. I dunno. You don’t seem like you’d be into all the math and circuits and long nights in the lab.”

“Shows what you know,” you say, surprised by your own defensiveness. But it’s true—engineering is your passion, even if people don’t always expect it from you.

Tony sits up a little, watching you with newfound interest. “Fair enough. Maybe you’ll surprise me.”

The way he says it, like he’s almost daring you to, makes you feel like you have something to prove. “Maybe I will.”

He grins, and you can’t help but smile back, despite yourself. There’s something about him that’s annoyingly charming, even if he’s a bit smug.

“So, guess we’re stuck together,” he says, stretching again and giving a mock yawn as he looks around the small space. “Might as well make the most of it, right?”

“Right,” you say, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves in your stomach. It’s going to be a long semester.

The evening settles in, the sky outside darkening as you both settle into your corners of the small apartment. And even though it’s awkward and tense and neither of you is thrilled about the arrangement, there’s a strange sense of possibility in the air. As much as you hate to admit it, maybe being roommates with Tony Stark won’t be the worst thing in the world.

Or maybe it’ll be a disaster.

The first few weeks of living with Tony Stark are, in a word, chaotic.

It doesn’t take long for you to realize that sharing a space with him means constantly navigating a fine line between friendly coexistence and utter frustration. He has this way of making himself at home in every corner of the apartment, like he’s somehow managed to expand into all the free space. You can’t go to the bathroom without finding his razor on the sink, his textbooks spread across the counter, or his laundry draped over a chair. And then there’s his music—always loud and mostly classic rock, blaring at all hours, completely ignoring your “no loud music after ten” rule.

One morning, as you walk bleary-eyed to the kitchen for coffee, you trip over a pile of Tony’s sneakers lying by the door.

“Tony!” you shout, cursing as you nearly spill your coffee. “Your shoes are everywhere. I can’t even walk in here without tripping.”

He pokes his head around the corner, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. “Relax, Y/N, it’s just a couple of shoes. Don’t get your circuits crossed.” He grins around the toothbrush, somehow managing to look amused and cocky at the same time.

You glare. “It’s not just the shoes. It’s the shoes, your textbooks, the dishes you leave in the sink—do you know what a dishwasher is?”

He raises an eyebrow, half-amused, half-unbothered. “Do you know what a chill pill is?”

You roll your eyes, muttering under your breath, and try to focus on your coffee. He’s insufferable, really, and yet… somehow, every time he flashes that grin, you feel a flicker of something you can’t quite name. Not that it makes him any less irritating.

The semester picks up, and with it, so do the all-nighters. You’re both in the same engineering program, and you’re both competitive. When he’s hunched over his laptop at two in the morning, the screen casting his face in an eerie blue light, you find yourself in the same position, furiously scribbling equations, desperate to finish before he does. Occasionally, you catch him glancing over at you, eyebrow raised, like he’s silently challenging you to keep up. And you do.

One night, you’re both exhausted, sprawled on opposite ends of the couch after a particularly grueling set of lab assignments. You’re barely holding a pencil in your hand, too tired to even write another line. He’s in the same state, eyes half-closed, notebook resting against his chest.

“You’re not as bad at this as I thought you’d be,” he mumbles, half-asleep.

“Thanks,” you mutter back, too tired to argue or throw a sarcastic response his way. “You’re not that bad, either.”

He huffs, like he’s barely holding back a laugh. You don’t know why, but the sound actually makes you smile.

Tony’s bad habits still drive you crazy, though, especially when it comes to his tendency to hog the tiny bathroom you both share. One morning, after he’s been in there for over twenty minutes, you finally bang on the door.

“Tony, hurry up! I have class in half an hour!”

The door cracks open, and he peeks his head out, hair still dripping from his shower. “Calm down, I’m almost done.”

“Almost done? You’ve been in there forever!” you snap, crossing your arms.

He grins, completely unfazed. “If you’re so desperate, feel free to join me.”

You feel your face heat up, and before you can come up with a comeback, he winks and shuts the door again, leaving you fuming and red-faced in the hallway. That’s Tony, always pushing buttons just because he can.

Over time, though, things… change. Somewhere between the petty arguments and the grudging coexistence, you start to fall into a rhythm. You still bicker, but there’s an unspoken understanding now. You’ll swap the couch and the bed without making a fuss, automatically take turns in the kitchen, and sometimes, you’ll even study together.

You find out that Tony’s more than just the arrogant guy from class—he’s sharp, quick with a joke, and oddly attentive. Sometimes, you’ll wake up to find a fresh cup of coffee waiting for you, and he’ll wave it off, muttering something about it being “just convenient.” And in return, you start picking up his shoes without complaining, throwing his clothes into the hamper, and even bringing him snacks during your late-night study sessions.

It’s a Friday night, and for once, you’re not spending it at home or at the library. You’ve actually got a date—a rarity in your life—and you spent more time than you’d like to admit getting ready, carefully putting on makeup and smoothing down your dress.

Tony, of course, has been watching with that teasing glint in his eyes the entire time, slouched on the couch with his laptop, occasionally smirking like he knows something you don’t.

“You’re actually going out with this guy?” he asks, after you’ve checked your reflection for the fifth time.

“Yes, Tony, people do go on dates. You should try it sometime.”

He laughs, that casual, easy chuckle that you hate because it always manages to sound good. “I don’t need a date, Y/N. I get enough action as it is.”

You roll your eyes, grabbing your purse. “Enjoy your action tonight, Stark. I’ll be back late.”

But as the evening wears on, your mood changes. You’re sitting at a café table, checking your watch for the third time. Your “date” was supposed to meet you half an hour ago, but there’s no sign of him. A growing feeling of embarrassment builds in your chest, and with each passing minute, it gets worse. You don’t want to be that girl who waits around for someone who clearly isn’t coming. With a sigh, you grab your bag and head home, hoping Tony won’t notice your early return.

When you open the door, though, Tony looks up from the couch, eyebrows raised. “That was… fast.”

You sigh, closing the door and leaning against it, trying not to let the disappointment show on your face. “He, um… he didn’t show up.”

Tony’s expression changes, softening a little. He puts his laptop aside and stands up, crossing the room to stand in front of you. For once, there’s no teasing in his eyes, no smirk. “Wait, he stood you up?”

You shrug, forcing a smile. “It’s not a big deal. I probably wasn’t his type, anyway.”

“Not his type?” Tony’s face hardens a little, his tone sharp. “Y/N, he’s an idiot. You’re amazing. He just missed out on something great.”

You blink, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. “You don’t have to say that.”

He shakes his head, his hand reaching out almost instinctively to touch your shoulder. “I’m not saying it because I have to. I’m saying it because it’s true.” His gaze holds yours, steady and warm, and for the first time, you realize just how intense his eyes are.

There’s a moment of silence, heavy and charged, and you feel your pulse quicken. You’re standing close, closer than usual, and for once, there’s no witty comeback, no sarcastic remark from him. Just Tony, looking at you like he sees something in you that no one else does.

“Hey,” he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, swallowing against the sudden tightness in your throat. “I just… I guess I feel a little stupid, that’s all.”

Tony’s face softens, and to your surprise, he pulls you into a gentle hug, his arms wrapping around you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “You’re not stupid, Y/N,” he says quietly, his voice a warm murmur against your hair. “Some guys are just idiots. Trust me—I know a lot of them.”

You laugh against his shoulder, feeling some of the hurt and embarrassment melt away. “Thanks, Tony.”

He pulls back slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders, his gaze searching yours. “Anytime. Seriously.”

For a moment, you just stand there, lost in his eyes, feeling something shift between you. He’s still Tony—annoying, messy, impossible—but there’s something else there now, something unspoken. And suddenly, the idea of him as just your roommate feels almost… disappointing.

He seems to feel it too, because he lets go and steps back, clearing his throat. “So, uh… if you want, we could watch a movie or something? My treat. I have some popcorn in the cupboard, and I promise not to talk through the entire thing.”

You smile, nodding. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

And as you settle onto the couch together, for once in comfortable silence, you can’t help but feel like this night turned out better than you expected.

The first time it happens, it’s an accident. You don’t even plan on a second Friday movie night, but somehow, it just becomes part of the routine.

A week after your canceled date, you both end up crashing on the couch with a couple of cheap takeout containers, both too tired to think about cooking or studying. Tony puts on an old action flick, and you spend half the movie rolling your eyes at the ridiculous stunts, only to find him muttering a dramatic running commentary just to make you laugh. By the end of it, you’re not sure if the movie was any good, but you’re grinning, and you realize it’s the most relaxed you’ve felt in weeks.

From then on, Friday movie nights are a thing.

Every Friday, no matter how hectic your schedules are, you and Tony put aside a couple of hours to flop down on the couch and watch something. The movies vary—from classic thrillers to cheesy rom-coms, and even the occasional animated film—but somehow, it always feels like the best part of your week. And, slowly, it becomes one of the best parts of living with Tony.

You look forward to the comfort of those quiet evenings, knowing that you can just curl up with a blanket and relax without any pressure or expectations. Tony usually picks the movie, claiming he has “refined taste,” and you mostly let him—except for the times when you insist on watching something with a little more plot and a little less gratuitous explosion.

One Friday Night

It’s late in the semester, and you’re running on fumes. Between exams, projects, and late-night study sessions, you’re barely getting four hours of sleep a night. You’re slouched against the arm of the couch, wrapped in your favorite blanket, trying to keep your eyes open as Tony scrolls through the movie options.

He shoots you a look, one eyebrow raised. “You sure you’re up for this? You look about two seconds away from passing out.”

You wave him off, trying to suppress a yawn. “I’m fine. Just… pick something, preferably not too loud, and not too complicated.”

“Noted,” he says with a small smirk, settling on a lighthearted rom-com.

You start the movie together, but within minutes, your eyelids are drooping, the exhaustion from the week catching up with you. Tony glances over at you occasionally, eyes softening each time he catches you nodding off, but he doesn’t say anything. He just shifts slightly so you’re more comfortable, like he’s already expecting you to fall asleep.

And then, without really thinking about it, you let yourself sink against him, your head resting on his shoulder as you drift off. He freezes at first, his body going stiff as he looks down at you, eyes widening. But you’re already halfway to sleep, curled up with your blanket, completely unaware of how close you’ve moved.

Tony’s expression softens, and he settles back into the couch, letting his arm drape casually along the back, his body relaxing beneath your weight. He takes a deep breath, a tiny smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. He’s always liked having you close, but you’re usually too guarded, too quick to pull away if he even nudges a little closer during the movie. But right now, with you dozing off against him, he can’t help but feel a quiet kind of happiness.

When the credits roll, he’s still sitting there, one arm around your shoulders, careful not to move too much in case it wakes you. He’s not sure why it feels so right, holding you like this, feeling the warmth of your body against his, but he doesn’t want it to end. Not yet.

Eventually, you shift a little, mumbling something in your sleep, and he swallows, feeling his heart skip a beat. He’s never thought of himself as someone who’s into all that romantic stuff, but right now, he’s sure he wouldn’t mind just staying here like this for a little longer.

After that first time, the accidental cuddling becomes a regular part of Friday nights. Some weeks, you manage to stay awake for most of the movie, laughing and joking with him, but other times, especially when you’re exhausted, you inevitably end up leaning against him. And each time, Tony stays perfectly still, like he doesn’t want to ruin the moment, secretly relishing the feel of you snuggled against him, warm and close.

He never says a word about it, and you don’t notice, or at least, you don’t seem to. It’s a quiet, unspoken thing between you. And in a strange way, it brings you closer, turning those Friday nights into something special.

One Friday, as you’re drifting off, you mumble something into his shoulder. “Thanks, Tony… for putting up with me,” you say, voice thick with sleep.

He chuckles softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Anytime, Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice low. “You’re a lot easier to put up with than you think.”

And even though you’re already asleep, the faint smile on your lips tells him you know.

One rainy Tuesday, you’re buried in textbooks, barely aware of the time, when the door bursts open, and Tony steps in, drenched from head to toe. There’s water dripping from his hair, his hoodie soaked through, but that’s not what catches your attention. It’s the tiny, gray-furred creature cradled in his arms, mewling pitifully as it clings to his chest.

You gape at him. “Tony, what—?”

He grins, holding up the little kitten, who peers at you with wide, curious eyes. “Found her outside the library, all alone in the rain. Look at this face—she’s practically begging for a home.”

You blink, not entirely sure how to respond. “Tony, we can’t just… bring a stray home.”

“Why not?” He’s already taken off his jacket, now gently rubbing the kitten dry with the inside of his sleeve. “She clearly needed someone, and I figured, hey, we’ve got space. I already named her and everything.”

You fold your arms, fighting a smile. “Oh? And what, pray tell, is her name?”

He lifts the kitten up, gazing at her with an affectionate look you’ve never seen on his face before. “This is Dumpling,” he says, voice soft as he scratches under her tiny chin. “She looks like a dumpling, don’t you think?”

You burst out laughing, surprised at how fitting it is. The kitten has round, wide eyes and soft, fluffy gray fur that’s sticking up in odd directions. Despite your initial protests, you can already feel yourself softening.

“Alright, Dumpling,” you sigh, reaching out to stroke her tiny head as she lets out a delicate purr. “I guess you’re ours now.”

Tony grins, triumphant, and Dumpling stretches a little, her tiny body relaxing against his chest. And just like that, you have a cat.

Within days, Dumpling has taken over your lives—and, somehow, your relationship with Tony transforms right along with it. The two of you fall into an easy routine of “parenting,” like you’ve somehow become an unlikely team. Dumpling’s food bowl is filled, water is changed, and cat toys litter the living room floor, a mess that somehow makes the apartment feel homier.

You and Tony develop a sort of playful banter around it, too.

One morning, you catch him standing at the kitchen counter, holding a small spoonful of tuna over Dumpling’s head, his expression one of extreme concentration as he tries to get her to “high-five” for it. You snort as you walk into the kitchen.

“Really, Tony? We’re training her now?”

He turns, smirking. “Hey, she’s got potential. I think with a little more time, she might be able to help us with homework.”

You roll your eyes but secretly love the way he’s taken to Dumpling. “You’re just spoiling her,” you say, grabbing your coffee.

“Oh, and you’re not?” He raises an eyebrow, pointing to the fluffy cat bed you impulse-bought online last week. “I think someone’s getting a little too attached.”

“Okay, fair.” You shrug, and as if on cue, Dumpling saunters over to you, rubbing against your leg and purring. You bend down to pick her up, laughing as she curls up in your arms. “But I’m the responsible one. She’s clearly a daddy’s girl.”

“Oh, so I’m ‘Dad’ now?” he teases, reaching over to scratch Dumpling behind the ears. She stretches into his hand, and he gives you a mock-stern look. “That makes you the mom, doesn’t it?”

You feel a slight flush at his words, but you roll your eyes, playing along. “Fine. But if she wakes up at three in the morning, ‘Dad’ is definitely taking that shift.”

He chuckles, and there’s a warmth to it, a little spark that seems to light up every time he glances at you.

As the weeks pass, Dumpling becomes an integral part of your Friday night ritual, usually curled up in your lap or wedged between the two of you as you watch movies. She has this adorable habit of pawing at Tony’s arm if he stops petting her, and though he pretends to be annoyed, you know he secretly loves it.

One night, Tony is stretched out on the couch, Dumpling sprawled lazily across his chest as he scratches her head. You’re curled up beside him, drowsy after a long week, watching a classic rom-com as the rain patters against the window. It’s cozy, peaceful, and you’re so comfortable that you can’t help but let your head rest against his shoulder. The weight of his arm, slung casually over the back of the couch, feels like it’s holding you there, like maybe he wants you just as close as you want to be.

Somewhere in the movie, Dumpling hops down and trots off to her bed, leaving just the two of you on the couch. You’re both quiet, the movie long forgotten as the rain falls softly outside.

When Tony shifts beside you, you feel him turn slightly, his gaze lingering. You look up at him, and for a moment, the two of you just stare at each other, the space between you seeming smaller and smaller.

He clears his throat, almost like he’s about to break the silence, but instead, he just chuckles softly, brushing a stray hair from your face. “You know, I think Dumpling was onto something.”

“Onto what?” you murmur, heart beating just a little faster.

He grins, that warm, gentle grin you’ve come to love. “She figured out she likes being close to you way faster than I did.”

Your breath catches, and you’re not sure if it’s the rain or the warmth in his voice, but something inside you pulls you toward him, drawn by the tenderness in his eyes, the way his fingers lightly brush your cheek. “Tony…”

He leans in, so close now you can feel his breath on your skin. “Yeah?”

You don’t answer, and he doesn’t wait, his lips capturing yours in a soft, lingering kiss. It’s tender, unhurried, like he’s savoring the moment, and you melt into him, feeling the warmth of his hand gently cradling your face. All those unspoken moments, the teasing, the playful “parenting” of Dumpling, the late-night study sessions—all of it seems to click into place, like you were always meant to be here, like this.

When you finally pull back, your face flushes with warmth, and he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world.

“I didn’t know I needed that,” he says softly, a little breathless, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek.

You smile, your fingers finding his as you hold his hand. “Neither did I. Guess we can thank Dumpling.”

He laughs, that soft, happy sound that makes your heart skip a beat. “Yeah, our little matchmaker.”

From then on, the apartment feels different, warmer. Friday nights turn into something even sweeter, and Dumpling, your shared “little family member,” watches with a quiet approval, curling up beside you as you and Tony share the couch, hands intertwined, each of you finally knowing exactly where you belong.

Being with Tony as a couple is somehow both everything you expected and completely different. The teasing and playful dynamic remains, but there’s a new, unspoken warmth in everything you do together, a kind of quiet intimacy that’s hard to put into words.

You both quickly fall into a routine, but with small moments that make your heart race, the soft touches and lingering glances that remind you this is real now. Dumpling is still the center of attention in your little “family,” and her mischievous nature keeps you both on your toes.

It’s a lazy Tuesday morning, and you’re attempting to get ready for class. You’re putting on your makeup in the bathroom when Tony comes up behind you, arms slipping around your waist, chin propped on your shoulder as he gazes at your reflection in the mirror.

“You know, you look pretty cute in the mornings, even if you’re annoyed,” he murmurs, grinning as he watches your expression in the mirror. Dumpling is at your feet, playfully pawing at the hem of his jeans as he nuzzles against your shoulder.

“‘Annoyed’ is putting it lightly,” you say, though a smile slips through. “Dumpling decided to wake me up at 4 a.m. because someone decided it was a good idea to feed her a can of tuna last night.”

He shrugs, unrepentant. “She deserves the best. Besides, you look extra pretty when you’re slightly annoyed.” He presses a gentle kiss on your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

You roll your eyes but turn to face him, the playfulness in his eyes melting into something softer. He brushes a thumb over your cheek and then kisses you softly. You hear a soft meow at your feet, and Tony chuckles against your lips, pulling back only to scoop Dumpling up. “Alright, little one. Mom and Dad have classes to get to. Try not to destroy the place while we’re gone.”

Dumpling mews indignantly but seems satisfied when Tony scratches her head, her loud purr filling the bathroom.

Word about you and Tony spreads across campus faster than either of you expects. For a while, you just think you’re imagining the occasional stares, the murmurs when you and Tony sit together at lunch, his arm slung casually over the back of your chair as he chats with his friends. But soon enough, the stares turn into glares, particularly from some of the girls who used to linger around him before you two were official.

You overhear whispers in the library one afternoon as you’re studying. Two girls at a nearby table are staring over, murmuring to each other with pinched expressions.

“Can you believe he’s with her? Tony Stark?” one of them says, not-so-subtly looking you up and down.

The other girl huffs, rolling her eyes. “She must’ve done something to reel him in. I mean, he could do way better.”

Their words sting, but you pretend not to notice, focusing instead on your notes. Just then, Tony appears behind you, pressing a kiss to your temple, and plopping down in the seat next to you. The two girls exchange wide-eyed glances, their whispers silencing instantly. You try to brush it off, but Tony notices the tension in your shoulders.

“Don’t listen to them,” he says quietly, his hand finding yours beneath the table. “They don’t know what they’re talking about.”

You look at him, and he gives you that soft, reassuring smile that makes everything else fade away. With him beside you, the whispers and stares don’t matter. You squeeze his hand, feeling a quiet pride at being the one he chose.

The Friday movie nights are still sacred, but now they have an even cozier feel. You and Tony snuggle up on the couch, Dumpling curled between you or lazily sprawled across your laps. The cat’s purring is a constant soundtrack, her favorite place being Tony’s lap, where she can knead her tiny paws against his hoodie.

One night, you’re nestled together, Dumpling snoozing away as the credits roll on an old thriller Tony insisted on watching. You turn to him, still feeling the thrill of the movie but comforted by his warmth beside you.

“I think we make a pretty good team, don’t you?” you murmur, resting your head against his chest.

He chuckles, kissing the top of your head. “The best team. Even if Dumpling keeps trying to sabotage my snacks.” He’s referring to how Dumpling “steals” the popcorn from his lap whenever he’s not looking.

You smile, pulling his arm closer around you. “And if she’s got any competition for attention on campus, I think I know who her biggest fan is.”

He laughs, his arm tightening around you, his face lighting up. “Well, can you blame me? Between you and Dumpling, I’ve got everything I need.”

It’s a quiet Saturday morning, and you’re curled up in bed, still half-asleep, when you feel the mattress dip slightly. You open one eye to see Tony settling Dumpling gently beside you, her little head nestled into your pillow. He grins as you blink at him, half-confused and half-amused.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss you. Dumpling lets out a tiny squeak between the two of you, as if demanding her own share of attention.

With Tony’s gentle kiss, the cozy weight of Dumpling snuggled next to you, and the soft light filtering through the window, you can’t remember ever feeling this content. It’s just a small moment, but it’s perfect, each day settling you further into this life you’re building together.

One night, you’re both lying in bed, Dumpling curled up at the foot, fast asleep. You’re wrapped in Tony’s arms, his fingers gently tracing patterns along your shoulder as you lie in comfortable silence, the room lit by the soft glow of the city outside.

Out of nowhere, Tony clears his throat, and you can feel his heartbeat quicken slightly. He takes a breath, then murmurs, “I love you.”

It’s so soft that you almost miss it, but your heart skips, warmth flooding through you. You look up, seeing the nervous but hopeful look in his eyes.

A smile spreads across your face as you reach up, touching his cheek. “I love you too, Tony,” you say, voice soft but steady.

His face breaks into a grin, and he pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead as if sealing the words between you. Dumpling lets out a sleepy, annoyed noise, but you both laugh, neither of you moving.

if you liked the story don't forget to leave a like, a reblog and drop a follow if you want to read more! <3

[brights-place]

Valorant Agent Headcannons

Pairings: None <33

Warnings: Fluff, Sillies, Headcannons,

A/N: My friend and I were rambling and writing stupid headcannons after playing a comp match so here we are \(･◡･)/

-Yoru is double jointed -Sage is heavily questioning her sexuality

-Omen is heavily questioning his mental insanity -Phoenix has a sneaker collection -Raze and KJ wake everyone up with there bots

-Chamber when he gets mad he starts speaking french sassily -Kay/0 has a file that's filled with comfort shows for the agents -Kay/0 knows how to make pancakes and makes them for everyone -Skye drags every new agent into a run in the morning -Omen once made every agent a knitted sweater for christmas… Ugly sweaters for life <33 -Breach makes good swedish sweets for everyone -Wingman would make beaded bracelets to agents he likes -Gekko bought a bead set for wingman so he could make more bracelets -When Kay/0 feels petty at an agent he will translate their mother tongue into english for the others to hear ESPECIALLY when someone talks shit (reyna) -Neon knows how to play Bass -All the young agents have tried to make a band together -Sage likes to gossip with Iso over tea and boba -When Clove’s pissed they make fanfics of the other agents >:D -Fade plays with her haunts like yarn (CANNON) -Astra collects seashells for Harbor -Sova has once had a snow globe obsession. He would bring them back to show his grandmother and place it on a shelf -Gekko has called older agents slang names -Viper is obviously a coffee woman and Reyna is a tea woman -Jett has tried to make Skyes birds move faster SHE WAS NOT HAPPY -Deadlock & Sova sometimes have a snowman building contest -KJ likes anime but also phoenix who hides it -Yoru and KJ know phoenix like anime Yoru found out by seeing Phoenix dance to anime songs -Yoru would bring back trinkets for them but denies he thought about them (LIAR)

-Reyna wants to take up crocheting

-Astra is really good at the drums

-Gekko has gotten curious on how his little friends taste he made a list

-Deadlock braids hair, and helps breach braid his

-Iso is really good at cooking and cooks with Jett in his spare time.

-Similarly, Jett and Iso have cook offs and get the other agents to vote

-Clove sneakily puts pride flag toothpicks in everyone's food

-Raze sneaks love letters in everyones lockersand watches with breach and laughs

-Harbour has a bath bomb addiction and collects them like an insane person

-Brimstone has reading glasses

-Cypher gets gifts from everyone on fathers day and also mothers day

-Kj likes making forts

-Chamber corrects the waiters pronunciation at french restaurants

-Reyna plays basketball with Gekko and helps him aim

-Phoenix is trying to learn how to sew so he can make better jackets due to Jett trying to take them

-Clove has an etsy and the only people that buy are breach and gekko

-Neon VS Gekko in any sports (NEON WINS PINOY PRIDE MFS) -Deadlock is scared of dogs

-When Neon gets sick every agent fears for their lives. Her sneezes are BIG (Zoomies) - Neon and Jett get the zoomies if they have energy drinks or coffee -Brim is a BBQ dad he makes good burgers -Imagine Fade looking into Deadlock's nightmares and seeing Cub instead of the bear -Cypher has tinkered with Chamber,Raze, and KJ’s is tech for funsies -Cypher will use people’s fetishes against them -Sova wears one of omens knitted scarves when he goes hunting -Omen gets overwhelmed by crowds sometimes so he likes to hide somewhere quietly -Jett would GRIND on Wuthering Waves and Honkai Star Rail

-Sova has different variations of prosthetic eyes and sometimes he gets gifted weirder or cooler looking ones for fun -Sova as a party trick has taken his prosthetic eye out and some younger agents who haven’t known scream like a banshee -Phoenix is a mama’s boy (I BELIEVE HE HAS TWO MUMS)

-Sage has binged Avatar The Last Airbender many times and takes inspiration from Katara

-Jett has a hidey hole full of other agents' belongings. Yoru’s knives, Phoenix’s shoes, Cyphers hat (sometimes)

-Yoru has tried time travelling, Phoenix jokes about it all the time

-When someone has a bad day, cypher watches over them over the camera to make sure they aren't doing anything bad to themself

-Yoru gives haircuts and is actually good, but he keeps yapping while using his different knives

-Gekko sings creep by radiohead in the shower when he's sad and Neon films from outside the door and jokes about it

-Omen gets too much candy due to being treated as a trick or treater

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact!

[santaasi]

VIOLENCE

pairing: boxer!jj maybank x gf!reader

summary: jj maybank wants to put the whole world at her feet, but the only way he knows in this life is violence

warnings: angst, a lil bit of fluff, (kinda) violent behavior, some language, no use of y/n, jj calls reader kitten, english isn’t my first language

word count: 4.7k

a/n: this work was originally conceived as a small drabble with a maximum of 1.5k words but it became a full one-shot. i guess i can't be brief. as always, I recommend you to listen to this amazing song while reading: Eden - Suffering for Love. Have a good time <з

She hated what he was doing. She hated this little ring, which looked like a cage when even animals could not be kept. She hated being in a crowd of sweaty men drinking beer and shouting his name. She hated watching his face, which she loved to cover with kisses, get hit after hit. And she hated that she felt a vague pleasure when his fist flew into his opponent's face.

All in all, she hated violence. And JJ Maybank's lifestyle was full of this violence.

But more than that, she hated the fact that she was the cause of this violence in JJ's life. Everything he did was for her and because of her. He kissed the ground she walked on.

Therefore, he was ready to do anything just to give her a bouquet of her favorite flowers. Or to arrange the most unforgettable date for her on the beach. Or to give her that rare and outrageously expensive book for her birthday that she had dreamed of for so long. And for all of this, money was needed, which JJ did not have. But there was hatered and violence in his veins, which for the first time in his life came in handy.

At first, these illegal fights were just additional earnings for him, when he had to make ends meet, to repay debts, or when he just wanted to pamper his princess (always). But then... the high-stakes, wins, the big money, her smiling face - pulled him into a place he didn't want to get out of. And JJ Maybank knew perfectly well that if she found out about his new little part-time ‘job’, she wouldn't like it. So, he kept it a secret. Violence was his little secret.

But she was never stupid. She found all these little gestures on his part sweet and innocent. She didn't wonder where he got the money from, because he had a job. In this godforsaken car repair shop. But when Mr. Joyce, his boss, called out to her on the street, asking her to send her ‘errand boy’ to take his share after he was fired, she began to suspect something was wrong.

With his first big win in boxing, he rented them a small cozy house on the outskirts of the cut. It was a gift for their second anniversary. And she moved from her parents' huge mansion on Figure 8 to this small house to be near him, to love him and to spent her whole life with him.

They never talked about JJ's new job, she didn't ask where his money came from, or where he got new beatings every week right after the previous ones had just healed. She didn't want to get into his soul with questions, having already understood perfectly well for two years that if he wanted to, he would have told everything himself. But all this bothered her, because of which she did not sleep well, she always walked around sullen and gloomy. And at some point she just couldn't stand it.

She remembered this day as if it were yesterday. She going down the dark stairs to the basement, standing in the crowd, looking around for the top of his blond hair, and how her heart stopped for a moment when she saw him in that cage. She stood frozen with horror and fear for him, unable to say even a word. She saw how he struck blow after blow, how his eyes burned with determination and how he grinned triumphantly into the crowd, enjoying himself after winning.

He always enjoyed the taste of victory and the roar of the crowd shouting his name at such moments, because it made him feel needed, noticed and appreciated. But as soon as he saw her frightened look at him, everything inside him turned upside down. She was standing there, looking at him with her big, frightened eyes, like a little deer that had met with a gun pointed at her in the woods. And the air was knocked out of his lungs in a second just from one of her looks, which stabbed into his heart like a knife. He watched her slowly squeeze through the crowd, trying to get out, trying to escape from what she saw.

For the first time in his life, JJ Maybank didn't know what to do. He understood that she needed time to make sense of everything, but he didn't want her to make some hasty decision without him.

So, he quickly took his salary and things and left the basement, meeting with the cold wind and with her. She stood hugging herself, trying to warm her body, which was shaking either from cold or shock. JJ draped his jacket over her shoulders and lit a cigarette, waiting for her to speak first.

Everything inside him was shaking with fear that she would leave, that she would not want to be with him anymore. And this thought terrified him more than anything else in the world.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" she asked in a barely audible voice, concentrating all her attention on the flashing light at the end of the road. A tiny cloud of steam escaped from her lips.

"It didn't matter, kitten," the guy croaked, looking at her. JJ had never seen her so seriously cold before. There was a lump in his throat. "You never cared where I took the money so I..."

"It didn't matter? Doesn't it matter to you, JJ?!" her voice rose and she turned to him, looking at him in rage with tears in her eyes.

"’Cause it does metter to me! ‘S metter to me where you are, if you're okay, how y’feel.… And after everything we've been through, did you jus’ decide to hide that you're engaged in illegal fighting now?" her chest heaved and her fists clenched. She did not understand at what point she stumbled, that he no longer trusted her. What did she do wrong?

"Why don't you trust me, Jay? I thought... we..." her lips trembled and her voice cracked. All the rage seemed to have disappeared in a moment, leaving only pain and resentment. Resentment against the person she loved most, for whom she fought for so many years and went against everyone, even against her parents. And for what?

JJ stood next to her in a daze. He watched her body shudder from the cold and saw tears begin to shine in her eyes in the light of the lanterns. She looked like a little kitten who had been kicked out of a warm and cozy house onto the street, where she was surrounded only by a big world filled with fear and horror. And to tell the truth, that's how she felt. All those relationships filled with love and trust that she had tried to build brick by brick between them were now slowly crumbling before her eyes. She never asked questions. And maybe that was her mistake. Maybe that's why her JJ decided she couldn't be trusted. Maybe that's why he decided to hide part of his life from her?

But that wasn't the case for JJ. He has always trusted her and will trust her no matter what happens, because she is the one for him. She was always there for him in the most difficult moments of his life. She pulled him out of the swamp of darkness and pain that he had been immersed in all these years. She took him under her wing, took care of him and loved him. JJ always believed that she was his guardian angel. That at some point in his miserable life, God, if he really existed, sent her to save his, JJ Maybank's, worthless life and give him a reason to stay.

She was always perfect in his eyes. Innocent and pure. He couldn't let all the dirt and violence he was dealing with show on her. But even more, he couldn't bear the thought that after recognizing him as so evil and cruel, she would abandon him. That's why he's hiding it. That's why he didn't tell her anything.

"Jay, please say somethin’.… this silence is drivin’ me crazy," her voice was hoarse and helpless. She looked at him with her big tearful eyes and JJ felt his heart breaking. Did he really do this to her? "What did I do wrong?"

Maybank could have sworn he barely heard her last words. The phrase swept past him like a cold wind, leaving behind a wave of goosebumps. He wished he hadn't heard them. He wished he didn't feel that stabbing feeling in his chest that they caused. But JJ heard that soft voice, broken for a second, which, like a blow to the gut, forced the air out of his lungs.

JJ Maybank had done the most terrible thing to her. He made her doubt herself. And he hated himself for it. The guy frowned, trying a couple of times to open his mouth and say at least something ... at least something so that she would understand him.

"That's what I thought," Dana whispered softly, nodding and turning around and walking in the same direction from where she came.

The sound of her footsteps echoing down the empty street brought JJ out of shock and he immediately started running after her. He couldn't let her go. She was his world. His everything.

"Kitten, wait! Stop! I'll explain everythin’, okay?" catching her hand, he gently turned her around.

The girl's face was pale and lifeless. For the first time in all this weeks, JJ noticed blue circles under her eyes, and a lack of shine in her pupils. She didn't say anything, just stood there waiting for his explanation. The girl knew that she would never be able to leave him without listening. No matter how many times JJ Maybank messed up, she would always accept and listen to him.

"I jus’ wanted to give you better life, kitten. I- I-... ‘n that was the only way," JJ whispered, taking her hands in his. His fingers moved slowly and soothingly over her palms.

"I know you don't like... all this. I know ‘s too much. But ‘s worth it to see y’smile..." JJ looked at their joined hands and let go of one, reaching into his pocket and showing her a stack of greenbacks.

"There's a thousand bucks here. I got a thousand dollars for jus’ one fight, kitten. ‘S enough to cover all our expenses and there will still be..." Maybank looked up at his girl, smiling, but when he met her sad expression, his smile immediately faded.

Her name came out of his mouth, but she just shook her head as she came closer. Her hands gently touched his face, tracing each wound with her finger. A split eyebrow. A bruise on the cheekbone. A bleeding scar on the bridge of his nose. A split lip. She flinched a little every time her finger touched a particularly badly bleeding wound, as if all these wounds were hers.

"Do you really think that this money is more important to me than you are? Do you really think that this money is worth all your injuries to me?" Dana whispered softly, frowning slightly. Her voice was soft and soothing, but her eyes were shining.

JJ saw her bite her lower lip to keep from crying. His heart ached. JJ saw her pain. He said her name again, but she shook her head, taking a deep breath.

"You still haven't realized in all these years that I don't care about money, Jay?" She cupped his face with her hands and looked him straight in the eyes. "I left my parents, I left my life behind to be with you. I don't need money, I need you."

JJ's arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her to him. He needed to feel her next to him. To feel that she would never leave. JJ rested his chin on her hair, inhaling the scent of floral perfume.

"I know, but I don't want you to live in need, kitten. I promise it for a while.… I'll figure something out"

JJ kissed the top of her head, holding her close. And she believed all his words again, hoping that he would really end it soon. She had no desire to watch him torture himself because of her.

"I can't do this anymore, Jay," the girl confessed months after their first encounter. This time his ‘performance’ went worse than expected.

She stood behind him with her arms crossed over her chest, looking at him through the mirror. JJ slowly treated his wounds on his face, sometimes spitting blood clots into the snow-white sink. He looked terrible. His entire torso was dotted with red bruises, and there was no living place on his face. Even after the worst fights with his father a couple of years ago, he didn't look that bad.

She watched as he slowly applied the alcohol-soaked cotton wool to his bruised eyebrow, pressing it too hard, which made him cringe in pain. She suppresses the urge to reach out to him and take everything from him, treat his wounds properly and kiss every bruise on his face, as she has done since the very beginning of their relationship. First because of Luke, and then because of his... his job. But she remained standing behind him, leaning her head back against the cold tiles on the wall. It seemed to calm her down a little. But all these thoughts about JJ, about these illegal fights, about what their relationship had become because of it, did not give her peace of mind. She didn't want to support this violence anymore. She doesn't want to see him suffer.

"You know 'm doin’ this for ya. For us, kitten," JJ said wearily, putting down the cotton wool and turning to the girl. Her gaze swept over his features again, which she did not recognize because of the swelling and bruises, and the girl frowned even despite his soft smile. "'m doin’ this so that we have the money to pay for this house. And for the bills. And for the food and all other stuff that ya need"

"If I get a job too, then you won't have to fight..."

“No! I have everything under control. You're not gonna work in some diner just ‘cause I..." the guy swallowed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Just ‘cause I can't provide for the life you had before me."

She shook her head and frowned. That was the whole damn problem. The fact that before her relationship with him, she was a kook, lived in a large mansion with a cook, a maid and a gardener, had an unlimited golden card and could do anything. And JJ was a pogue. And he didn't care about it until they decided to move in together a year ago, and since then he has set himself the goal of doing everything possible so that his kook princess doesn't lift her finger a day in her life. Although she didn't mind, she was never one to be afraid of getting her hands dirty. She was willing to work in the most God-forsaken eateries twenty-four hours a day just so that JJ wouldn't enter this fighting ring anymore. Because to see him like this almost every night…

"I'll figure it out, kitten. It's okay," she felt JJ's hands wrap around her cheeks, wiping away the tears with his thumbs, which she didn't even notice how they flowed. She focused her gaze on him and shook her head, biting her lip, suppressing a sniffle.

And again she hears "I'll figure it out." Sometimes it seems to her that she has heard this phrase from him every day throughout the year. Although it probably is, because all they've been doing this year is fighting. Then make up. And after that they quarrel again. So in a circle.

Her whole life over the past year has become like trash day, from which she can not get out.

"No, Jay. Nothing's gonna be okay as long as you go there," she couldn't even bring herself to say out loud the place where her boyfriend went almost every night. She swallowed the lump in her throat and put her palms on top of his. "With each new time you come in a worse and worse state… 'm afraid... one day… 'm afraid..." her voice trembled and she had to take a couple of breaths before speaking again. "I'm afraid that one day you won't come home, Jay. And I don’t wanna know... I don’t wanna know how I will live after that"

She felt a new wave of tears roll down her cheeks, and Jay cursed softly to himself before moving away from her. Over the past two months, these conversations have become more frequent and it annoyed the guy. None of these talks ended well. And JJ Maybank hated fighting with his girlfriend because she was the only one he lived and did everything for in this world. There was no point in his life without her. But despite this, he said what he considered necessary at that moment. Pause. They needed a pause.

The girl's eyes widened and she stared at the guy in shock. He couldn't offer it. Couldn't he?

"I'll stay with John B. until... until you calm down," the guy came out of the bathroom, opening the closet, taking out a pre-packed bag of things. She followed him out, watching him pull on his hoodie.

"What the hell, Jay? Are you leavin’ me?" her voice broke into a scream, and her heart began to beat at breakneck speed. He couldn't leave her. He won't leave her.

"This is a pause. ‘S just a pause for a few days. I'm tired of fighting’ with ya," JJ breathed wearily, without even turning to her.

"If you stopped goin’ to that damn basement, all the quarrels would be over!" the girl shouted, watching him leave.

"I'll text you" was the last phrase he threw before the front door slammed shut and she fell to the floor sobbing.

She didn't understand at what point everything had changed so much. At what point did all their lovely quiet evenings turn into this? At what point did their I love you’s and happy morning cuddling turn into JJ deciding to leave her?

It all looked like a terrible nightmare and she didn't know how to deal with it anymore.

Two weeks have passed since their last fight. It was the most difficult and terrible two weeks of her life. After almost three years of a relationship, she had to relearn how to be on her own and live alone.

For the first few days, she woke up in the morning in the complete silence of their small house in a cold bed, remembering how the door slammed after he left. She walked from room to room like a zombie, trying to occupy herself with something just to avoid thinking about him, but every time she was distracted by something, her thoughts returned to JJ. When she brushed her teeth in the morning, she looked in the mirror, hoping to see him in the reflection and laugh at the mean faces that he made to make her smile. When she was cooking in the kitchen, she remembered JJ quietly whistling some silly tune from an ads, which annoyed her. Even when she was lying on the couch reading a book, she always remembered how JJ would lie down next to her, wrapping her in his strong arms and asking her to read aloud. Maybank didn't give a damn what kind of book it was or what it was about, he just liked listening to her voice and heartbeat.

In those two weeks he wrote to her only a couple of times. She couldn't find a place for herself, only occasionally asked Sarah how JJ, who lived in her and John B.'s house, was doing. From her, she learned that today was his another fight with a man who was famous for his special cruelty. And that scared the hell out of her.

That was exactly the reason why she was standing now among shouting and jostling men, as she had been a few weeks ago. Beer and drool flew in all directions while some young boys were fighting in the boxing ring, who were put on the "warm-up" before the main fight. The fight between her JJ and Broady Harington aka killing machine. And her heart leapt in her chest at the very thought of it.

She wanted to see him before the fights. To apologize. To say that they can solve everything. That her life doesn't make sense without him. And that he doesn't need to participate in this fight. But the bully guard at the service entrance wouldn't let her in. He pushed her out of the room, forcing her to wait for the end of the fight. So she stood in the crowd, fiddling with the hem of her white dress that Jay had bought her for their first anniversary. She thought it would reduce the degree of tension between them.

The girl in the red swimsuit and the referee entered the ring, announcing the start of the fight and then the world around her stopped. It was the first time she had seen him in two weeks. All the wounds on his body and face had almost healed and he looked so young but determined that she didn't even recognize him at first. There was something wrong with him... something was definitely wrong. His gaze focused on the mat under his feet, the way he put on gloves with special slowness, and how the muscles in his jaw moved and tensed. He didn't even look into the crowd, as he did before every fight, to see her and get an encouraging smile. JJ Maybank was completely focused on his goal and in some way it scared her.

When Sarah told her on the phone that JJ had been preparing for one main fight of the season for a month. She didn't believe it. He usually chose small daytime fights that earned him a good income. But over the past month, he began to disappear in the evenings, and he began to bring more money, even began to offer her to look for a real house. Not a rented one that they had now, but their personal home. And she was surprised by that, but she did not attach any importance to it. But now... now she realized that all his evening absences and visits with particularly severe beatings, and all this talk about a private home…

A loud roar knocked her out of her thoughts and she turned her gaze back to the ring. JJ lay on his back, covering his face with gloves, while his opponent delivered a series of strong punches, trying to break through the defense. The air seemed to be knocked out of her lungs and she leaned forward, clinging to the bars, breathing heavily.

"JJ!" she screamed before one of the guards forced her to move away.

The guy's whole body tensed up when he heard her voice for the first time in two weeks. And as if at the behest of some force unknown to him before, he turned the man sitting on him over, making a blow. The girl exhaled in surprise, looking at her boyfriend's bloody face. At the rage that distorted his beautiful features, and a wave of goosebumps went through her body. She missed the whole fight, wandering in her thoughts. But now she was watching JJ snatch his victory from the hands of a man who was famous for his violence. And she was even a little proud.

The referee's voice starts counting down to the end. JJ continues to strike without noticing anything around him. The man lies exhausted under him.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

JJ Maybank wins. The crowd is shouting and rejoicing. Drops of beer break and soak into the fabric of her white dress, but she doesn't care. She pushes through the crowd, heading out of the ring to meet him. Her winner and the beloved guy she missed so much.

His arms close around her waist, pulling her to him. She feels the metallic taste of blood in her mouth when he covers her lips with a forceful kiss and for the first time she does not resent it. Her heart beats in time with his as he holds her in his arms and looks into her eyes.

"The last one," he whispers into her hair, kissing the top of her head. She raises her head uncomprehendingly, frowning slightly. "It was the last fight. I... I won't participate anymore."

"Why?" she asks softly and naively, childishly, fluttering her long eyelashes.

The guy grins. She sees his eyes glisten and feels her heart begin to beat faster. Just like that first day when she bumped into him on Midsummer and he spilled the entire champagne tray on her expensive dress. Even then, she somehow realized that she had found the very love here that they write about in books and make films. And it was at that very moment that she already realized that JJ Maybank was her man.

"I don't wanna see y’worry and cry ‘cause of me. I don't wanna see you on the other side of the cage among these nasty men, ‘cause you came to support me. I don't wanna quarrel with you anymore, kitten" His voice was soft and gentle, and so soothing that she felt a rush of butterflies in her stomach again.

"So I found a regular job ‘n I'm gonna be the most ordinary person with the most ordinary life, but with the most fuckingly perfect girl in the whole damn world."

She giggles through her tears and pulls him closer to her, dragging him into another kiss. He doesn't resist. When had he ever refused to kiss her? JJ Maybank was created to kiss and please her. Therefore, at this very moment, he couldn't care about anything more than her in his arms and his lips on his lips.

"Hm! Maybank, I don't want to distract you from your entertainment, but come into my office and pick up your check. Unless, of course, you want to leave me 600 thousand dollars," the head of the bookmaker's office in which Maybank worked chuckled, which made him take his mind off his girlfriend.

He lets go of her waist, and is about to follow the boss. But before that, he turns back to her, pulls her to him, kissing her on the cheek.

"I hope you chose the house, kitten, ‘cause tomorrow we are gonna buy it. Now you definitely won't get rid of me, princess," the guy whispers in her ear, and then disappears into the crowd.

She stands there for a couple more minutes, trying to understand everything he said to her, before breaking into a loving smile and heading for the exit from this evil place, to which she hopes never to return. JJ finds her sitting on a bench outside a couple of minutes later, and they return home, where for the last time, she will heal his wounds and kiss each scar so that they don’t sting so much.

And when the next evening, or a week, or even a month later, JJ Maybank does not go to the basement for another fight, but stays with her in their own house to watch a movie, she can do nothing more, but only enjoy life. And to love a guy who now represents only gentelness, not violence.

JJ Maybank was her gentleness, and she would never let him go.

thankx for reading <3

i'm a little dissatisfied with this work, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway! you can always share your opinion in comments or my inbox :3

- your santi 🪐

masterlist

[inksoakedparchment]

A song for you*

Part 2

pairing: theo x fem!reader

genre: fluff x smut

tw: swearing, sex, my english

word cunt: 815

summary: after the ‘concert’ he tries to win you back

a/n: i hope you'll like it <3

dividers by @adornedwithlight

The next day when you wake up, you feel someone lying next to you. You open your eyes and see Theo is watching you like a creep.

“What the fuck, Theo?” you groan and push him off the bed and he huffs in pain.

“You little brat,” he looks up at you with a smile. You know he doesn't mean it seriously.

“What are you doing here? Why are you in my dorm? Why were you staring at me?” you bomb him with your questions.

“I snuck in to admire you. You looked so peaceful and gorgeous,” he smiles and climbs back next to you.

“Theo, that’s creepy,” you grimace.

“I don't care. I want you back, I need you back, cara mia,” he sighs and looks into your eyes.

“Go find your Hufflepuff if you're this lonely and leave me alone,” you scoff under your breath.

“I was high and drunk, Y/N. I'm so sorry, please believe me. I would never hurt you on purpose. It was an accident and I promise it won’t happen again,” he gives you the puppy eyes which can make your heart melt anytime.

“I don't think I can trust you again,” you shake your head.

“I believe you can. I love you, I never stopped loving you,” he smiles desperately.

“You make me sad, disappointed and angry when I look at you,” you lean back on your back.

“Amore, you don't love me anymore?” he leans on top of you.

“I didn't say that,” you shake your head.

“Please let me show you how much I love you,” he caresses your face.

And, you can’t resist him. His gentle touch, the eyes that can make your knees shake and you breathe faster.

“If I let you fuck me, it’s going to look like I forgave you while I clearly have not. Yet” you look into his eyes which darken at your statement.

“I know,” he murmurs and brushes your jawline with his lips.

After a few moments, he starts kissing you hungrily. He takes off your t-shirt and smirks when he notices you still don't wear a bra for sleeping.

He gently sucks on your nipples while his hand slips under your panties and teases your most sensitive spot between your legs. He starts fingering you roughly, but before you reach your orgasm, he pulls out his fingers and as he looks into your eyes, sucks on his own fingers which were drowned in you, only moments before.

“Taste yourself, my needy little slut,” he invites you into a deep kiss, in which your tongues are fighting with each other and you taste yourself on his lips and tongue. You moan and curve your back while he’s getting rid of his trousers and pants. He rips off your thongs and picks you up while he presses your body to his.

“What are you doi-” you ask, but he cuts you off by pressing your back to the wall and positions himself to your pussy and with a rough thrust he enters. Theo groans as he fucks you with deep and strong pushes and you can’t shut your mouth. You think the whole Hogwarts can hear your moans and whimpers.

“Don’t you dare hold back your voice, cara mia,” he demands and with his deep voice, you let his name out in shameless, guttural screams.

You claw his back and arch your back when you reach your climax and he feels you tighten around him.

“Cum for me, amore,” he groans and with one last thrust you cum around him, moaning his name. He pushes his dick into you a few more times which drives him over the edge and cums, whispering your name like it’s a prayer.

He knows your legs are sore, as it had always been before after having sex; and now? It’s worse because you didn’t have sex for two months. He carries you to the bathroom and lets the water run. You bury your face into his neck as you enjoy the warm water on you. He washes you and himself too then picks you up again and carries you back to your bed.

“Are you okay?” he asks while brushing a lock of hair from your face.

“My legs and… you know what, are sore. What do you think I am?” you snuggle up to him.

“I think you feel better but still hurt from what I did. I’m sorry, Y/N. You’re my oxygen and in these two months I felt that I couldn't breathe,” he kisses your hair.

“With time I can forgive you, just prove you will never do things like that again,” you whisper and look up into his eyes.

“I will. And take it as a promise,” he smiles softly.

“I already did,” you chuckle and he laughs too.

“I love you, cara mia”

“I love you too, amore”

part 1

tag list: @sunkissedscribbles

comment if you want to be on my tag list <3

[canthelpit0]

-Everything you need to know-

-masterlist -taglist Rules/AboutMe/Writing

ABOUT ME

Please call me Fae, it's Nickname for my actual name. Im bi, and I'm a minor. I just choose not to say my age on here. I love Music and often listen to many different Genres. I've always loved writing, but I've never really published anything in any fandom. don't judge my writing; I'm getting better I promise. I feel like I have a very active imagination. but most of the series fanfics that I write will probably not be planned out that much. I haven't been a fan for too long, I'd say, like early-mid 2023.

My page is made to be looked at in dark mode.

music taste: LanaDelRey, Ariana Grande, The Weeknd, Chase Atlantic, Drake, Doja Cat, Billie Eilish, Melanie Martinez, mitski... (I usually just listen to whatever I think sounds good, not because a certain artist made it.)

favorite song: it changes all the time (depending on the month, season, my mood, trends, etc.)

fav youtubers: the triplets, larry, Ben of the week, Shanspear... (I don’t watch a lot of yt)

fav food: mashed potatoes 🛐, Schnitzel 😍, ice cream, chicken, cherrys..

WRITING

allthough i feel like my english is pretty good, it is not my first languge. I'm actually German (well, tukisch really..) so, if there is something weird about the way I explain something inherently American, that’s why 🤷‍♀️

what I will be writing: fluff, angst, smut, hcs. I'll write almost anything (for Chris/Matt), I don't mind. go wild with requests I don't judge. the reader will mostly be poc!friendly, but not outright POC. I’ll write hcs for nick x m!reader, just not full stories

what I won't be writing: I might not write some requests. because I feel uncomfortable writing about something I don't know about/have experienced. For example: black!Reader, Latina!Reader, etc. (Heavy emphasis on race, because if yall have a specific fic in mind where the race has something to do with the story, go ask a writer who is black or Latina to write it, they’ll probably have better depiction than I could ever have.) unless it’s German/turkish reader.

also: R4pe, incest, threesomes, wired kinks (piss, shit, feet, etc)

My requests and Asks are open. feel free to send suggestions or questions. I'm fairly new on Tumblr, so I'm def looking for mutuals. Don't be scared to text me, i love meeting new people 🤭

RULES

Don't steal fics

if you don't like the concept of a fic, just scroll

Don't leave hate.

Criticism and feedback are always welcome in my inbox, just don't be rude about it.

[itssunshinetoday]

𝖲𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗈𝖽𝗒 | 𝖬𝗂𝗇 𝖸𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀i

pairing: dad!Yoongi × f!reader

genre: romance

warnings : pure fluff, too much sweetness, protagonist's daughter was sick, mention of puking, a little bit of coffee addiction, SO SO SWEET.

synopsis: your daughter was sick, and you and your husband are worried, but you woke up to a sweet surprise.

a/n: Hii,this is my first time publishing something here. English is not my native language, so please forgive me for any mistakes and don't esiste to tell me what's wrong! I just wrote what was on my mind.Enjoy≽^•⩊•^≼

a/n 2 : Hope you liked it! Let me know if you have some requests!

✩｡:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:｡✩

You wake up next to your husband, still exhausted from the night before. Your daughter puked all day, and, clearly worried, you had a restless sleep. It was around 6.00 a.m. and your hand automatically came out of the sheets to cover your eyes from the sun. Someone murmured beside you, and you understood that your husband was awake as well.

"You're already awake? I had a fitful night, and I'm sure you had it too, honey."

The cold atmosphere of December made you shiver, and Yoongi suddenly hugged you tightly as he spoke gently to you, concerned about your sleep and with his mind full of thoughts for your daughter.

"Choon-Hee must be in dreamland now, I hope she had a better sleep than us. She was feeling better, isn't she?"

You nodded slightly, inhaling the sweet scent of your husband's skin and caressing his long hair to reassure him.

"She stopped puking, at least...I really hope she's feeling better now"

You sighed, now thinking about your lovely daughter and how you hated to see her in such a state. Her usually bright voice, yesterday was like a whisper, and her glowing eyes hadn't the same spark. She was usually a cheerful child, and seeing her twisted from the pain made you so concerned. Around 9 p.m. she started to feel better, she had stopped vomiting.

But your lovely daughter was really tired and you hoped that today she'd feel better.

"Let's go check on her and then go downstairs. I need coffee to go through the day"

You wouldn't say that you were addicted to caffeine, but it was like a necessity for you to stay active, especially after that horrible night, and your husband was as addicted as you. He jumped out of the bed at the thought of the sour taste of coffee.

And so, hand in hand, you came out from under the sheets, immediately noticing how cold it was outside of them.

You two slowly approached your daughter’s room and with a gentle step Yoongi approached Choon-Hee, touching her forehead to control her temperature. Immediately, her little hand moved and her sweet eyes opened slowly.

"Honey, how are you feeling?" It was Yoongi who, visibly worried, asked her that question even though your daughter was still half asleep, but when she hinted a smile, your hearts warmed.

"I feel better Dad. I want to have breakfast with you, I promise not to throw up anymore"

You put a hand on Yoongi’s back, which at the time was lowered, to fill your daughter’s face with kisses.

"Come on, let’s have breakfast together"

You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw your daughter in that condition, she really seemed fine and you hoped that she had healed for good.

As soon as you arrived in the kitchen, your daughter didn’t even give time to sit down. She immediately asked to play with Dad’s instruments.

Your husband was a producer, very famous and above all, very good. He called himself "genius" and that’s exactly how he won you over, one of his many qualities was to get you emotional with his music, and your daughter wanted to compose a song just like her dad.

"Do you want to do like your dad mh? Do you already have this passion?"

He asked her and she immediately sat on his legs, while he fixed the instruments in front of him and with a proud look, he approached your daughter’s little fingers "they are all yours, let me see what you can do"

And while you were making breakfast, glancing from time to time to observe your daughter, who with her frowning eyebrows composed her first melody, your husband’s words melted you in the blink of an eye.

"Our girl is a genius"

Even though he knew that he was the genius among you, he would make her happy just to see her smile.Proud of her melody, Choon-Hee rose quickly from her father’s lap to dive into the sofa, exclaiming loudly "the life of a producer is really tiring"

That comment made you laugh, but you tried in every way to hide your laughter and felt your husband’s arms tighten you from behind.

"Was the melody that good?"

You asked quietly, preparing the much desired coffee.

"You know, I think I could use this tune for my next song"

You both laughed, enjoying that wonderful day, which fortunately had started in the best way.

After all, with your husband and daughter by your side, every day started off just right.

[pleasantlyinsincere]

Hi, I was wondering if you know what music John was a fan of in the late 70’s? I’m aware of him being excited about the B52’s, and I’m assuming he liked David Bowie and Elton John’s music in part because they were his friends in addition to obviously being talented. And I think I read once that Julian turned him onto Queen but tbh that may be me misremembering a fanfic lol I just wonder if there’s anything out there that describes what John’s music tastes was in those days or whether he preferred to stick with his favorite classics; early rock and roll, girl groups ect. Like what did he think about the punk scene in NY?? Or the close harmonies a la Fleetwood Mac that dominated the charts? Just things I think about haha.

Hi, thanks for the question. I know that I skipped through a book called John Lennon: 1980 playlist by Tim English before, that may be a good source for you. Here's some random info, that I remembered where to look up. I think Julian introducing John to Queen comes from the SPIN magazine interview in '75:

[Julian] likes Barry White and he likes Gilbert O’ Sullivan. He likes Queen, though I haven’t heard them yet. He turns me on to music. I call him and he says, “Have you heard Queen?” and I say “No, what is it?” I’ve heard of them. I’ve seen the guy … the one who looks like Hitler playing a piano … Sparks? I’ve seen Sparks on American TV. So I call him and say, “Have you seen Sparks? Hitler on the piano?” and he says, “No. They are alright. But have you seen Queen?” and I say “What’s Queen?” and then he tells me. His age group is hipper to music … at 11 I was aware of music, but not too much.

But then there is also an anecdote, I think by Tony Barrow, that John didn't want to sign Queen to Apple years earlier? However that may be a lie, or John just didn't remember.

Yoko gifted John a jukebox for his birthday in '78 and apparently John filled it with the old music he liked. Elliott Mintz says there was quite some Bing Crosby. And I remember John also putting some new song by Dolly Parton in there.

"Yoko gave him this old-fashioned jukebox and John stocked it with Bing Crosby records. People kind of expected him to have rock 'n' roll records in there, but it was almost totally Crosby stuff. There were 3 songs which John played over and over. I still remember them. They were Crosby with a jazz quartet from the 50's, I think. He would banter and talk in the songs and John thought that was just the end. The songs were Whispering, I'm Gonna Sit Right Down and Write Myself a Letter and Dream a Little Dream of Me. Yeah, those were the songs, I can still see John listening to them." - Elliott Mintz

“The one modern song I remember him listening to was ‘The Tide Is High’ by Blondie, which he played constantly. When I hear that song, I see my father, unshaven, his hair pulled back into a ponytail, dancing to and fro in a worn-out pair of denim shorts, with me at his feet, trying my best to coordinate tiny limbs.” - Sean Lennon

One night we were playing at Max's (Kansas City) in New York City, and I was waiting for everyone to leave the club so I could go back in and pick up my gear. We were sitting in the van waiting and John Lennon and Ian Hunter from Mott the Hoople came staggering out and looked over. John Lennon saw it was me and stuck his head in the window. He was kind of drunk and stuck his face right against mine and went 'yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah' because he recognized it (Devo's song Uncontrollable Urge) as being an updating of She Loves You. That was one of my most exciting moments ever. - Mark Mothersbaugh on John coming to a DEVO gig in '77

PB: John, what is your opinion of the newer waves? Lennon: I love all this punky stuff. It's pure. I'm not, however, crazy about the people that destroy themselves. Playboy interview, 1980

I like pop records. I like Olivia Newton-John singing "Magic" and Donna Summer whatever the hell she'll be singing. I like ELO singing "All over the World". I can dissect it and criticize it with any critic in the business...But without any thought I enjoy it! That's the kind of music I like to hear. - John

John Lennon raced into Yoko Ono’s home office in the mammoth old Dakota building with a copy of Donna Summer’s new single, “The Wanderer.” “Listen!” he shouted to us as he put the 45 on the record player. “She’s doing Elvis!” I didn’t know what he was talking about at first. The arrangement felt more like rock than the singer’s usual electro-disco approach, but the opening vocal sure sounded like Donna Summer to me. Midway through the song, however, her voice shifted into the playful, hiccuping style Elvis had used on so many of his early recordings. “See! See!” John shouted, pointing at the speakers. The record was John’s way of saying hello again after five years. [...] It was just weeks before his death in December of 1980, and his playing the Summer record was an endearing greeting -- and one that was typical of John. Of the hundreds of musicians I’ve met, John was among the most down-to-earth. Corn Flakes with John Lennon (And Other Tales From a Rock ‘n’ Roll Life) by Robert Hilburn

"I'm aware of ... Madness. "Don't do that. Do this." (As on the spoken word intro to "One Step Beyond".) I think that is the most original thing actually because it's so peculiar. ... Out of all that mob I think that was one of the most original sounds. Very good drumming, very good bass and all of that." Andy Peebles interview

And things I don't have quotes for right now: I remember Bob Gruen had given John some video compilation of punk bands, that John enjoyed watching. In one of the last interviews John said Hungry Heart by Bruce Springsteen was a great song. There are the albums John asked Fred Seaman to buy on his shopping lists. Some are printed in The John Lennon Letters (Though I'm not sure that means he liked them, but at least was interested in.) Lot's of Bob Dylan talk in the diaries and parodies. Many anecdotes about reggae bands. In the Double Fantasy studio recording John references quite some songs and artists, when he tells the musicians what they are aiming for in the songs.

[demigoddessqueens]

Hello! Can I ask how the Vox Machina would react to a female muslim reader who wears the hijab? Even her as their S/O if you feel comfortable. English is not my first language so please excuse any mistakes. I love your writing!

Oh of course! 😄

a/n - I myself am not Muslim nor wear the hijab so I am open to any and all feedback

Masterlist 12

So for starters, I can see you hailing from the areas of Marquet and/or Ank’harel. Exandria is vast and diverse in its cultures, and they are not one to judge for differences.

Given most of their vices, you become a better influence for the group. Seeing you take time not to indulge so much rubs off more than they would admit.

Even when the worst of your most vicious enemies are rid of, seeing you perform dua does strike at them, especially Percy. He wishes he could have met you during the worst years when he was away from Whitestone.

Will always go out of their way to accommodate to dietary needs for you, even going alcohol-free

Of course you always have to look your best darling! The most beautiful fabrics for your hijab and a kaftan

Vex hears you pray and it reminds her of the guiding light that was her mother. A reassuring she needs when self-doubt creeps. Vax hears and sees you and he feels safe, calm and accepting of his future with the Raven Queen. He’s glad there’s another he can share his sentiments and feelings with.

Pike and Keyleth have grappled with their doubts and insecurities with following the Everlight and the Aramente trials before but you’re a reminder to them they can take that time for themselves. Keeping to what they believe and follow will be there, but to live a life and enjoy what has always been in front of them.

Grog has his fair share of philosophical questions here and there, which he is glad you make the time to answer. It’s refreshing that someone listens to what he has to say.

At the rooms you each have at Whitestone, Percy caters to your tastes and decorates your rooms to your liking. Whatever it takes to remind you of home.

If you’re good at textiles and artwork, then calligraphy has a soft spot in their armor and along their clothes designs .

Also, it becomes a rotation of each party member to come into your rooms to learn more of your language. It feels like an intrusion to hear you and your s/o speak privately to each other only in a dialect you both know.

Sometimes they’ll hear you singing, asking what those songs mean and if you could teach them. Mostly Scanlan just likes to pretend he’s learning because it’s an excuse to hear you sing, giving him courage to come to terms with his daughter.

And of course, the affectionate nicknames for each other! Say habibi and they turn redder than a tomato

Your relationship and dynamics can pretty much be summed up in the words of Nizar Qabbani:

Not everything in the heart can be said, so God created sighs, tears, long sleep, cold smile and shivering hands.

I throw my passport in the sea, And name you my country, I throw all of my dictionaries in the fire, and name you my language