#oh can i go where you go. can we always be this close….

[connorsui]

UNLIMITED ACCESS!

This was wonderfully requested by my beloved @madam8 who gave me such a beautiful idea for a sylus date and I couldn't let go of it until I completed it 😭😭🩷🩷 like it's so cute that even when I was studying I kept thinking of new ways to end the fic or new scenes to add into it. --- it was ...AAUGH- my heart ...tho I do apologize for how long this one took out ur girl was busy trying not to fail classes 💀💀 ...lol 💅🏻

p.s if you see my corpse surrounded by flowers anywhere you can blame it on this ask ✨️ I LOVE IT

It started, as most things with Sylus did, with...

extravagance.

He had a habit of planning nights that felt more like events—private rooftops overlooking the shimmering city skyline, candlelit dinners in places that required reservations months in advance, evenings where the very sky seemed to bend to his will.

Luxurious. Impeccable. Always grand.

And while you loved those moments—loved him—there was something else you had been craving lately.

Something... simpler.

So one evening, as he idly twirled a glass of dark liquor between his fingers and casually mentioned taking you to a private villa on an island, you leaned into his space, resting your chin on your palm, and asked—

"Why don’t we do something more…plain? Just for the day—I mean."

Sylus stilled slightly, red eyes flickering toward you, waiting.

"Don’t get me wrong, I love our dates," you continued, "but I think it’d be nice to just do something fun. Silly, even. Maybe a little childish?"

A playful smile curled at your lips.

"Just… something where you don’t have to rent out an entire skyline to impress me."

He raised a brow, surprised. "You wish for something plain?"

You grinned. "Exactly. So let’s just have a normal date. Like—oh! What about an amusement park? Or an arcade? Or the fair!"

Sylus exhaled through his nose, setting his glass down with a measured movement. "Your ideas are enjoyable… I wouldn't mind indulging in them."

"Yeah! It’ll be fun, I promise. We can see what rides you like, if you’ll actually tolerate roller coasters, or if you’re one of those people who insists they’re too predictable." You smirked. "Oh, and you have to try winning me something from one of those carnival games."

He regarded you with that ever-neutral gaze, quiet and considering, before finally murmuring—

"For you, I wouldn’t mind fulfilling that request."

You smiled, pressing a playful kiss to his cheek, already excited for whatever simple, carefree date he would plan.

Or so you thought.

Because somehow—somehow—things escalated.

Instead of just buying tickets like a normal person, Sylus had decided the best course of action was to…

Buy. The. Entire. Damn. Park.

Your favorite amusement park, to be exact.

And now here you stood at the entrance, staring up at the massive sign that should have been buzzing with families, groups of friends, and screaming children running past in excitement.

Instead, it was silent.

The ticket booths? Closed. The parking lot? Void of life.

The only people here were you, Sylus, and the staff, who stood patiently, waiting only for the two of you.

You turned to him slowly, your brain still buffering.

"Sylus… I—when I said I wanted a fun day with you… this isn’t exactly what I had in mind."

Sylus, as usual, looked completely unbothered. "Did I get the wrong park?"

You blinked. "…No, but—Sylus, what—" You gestured at the empty surroundings, struggling to form a coherent thought. "You didn’t have to—How did you even do this?"

He tilted his head, as if you had asked a genuinely confusing question. "I bought it."

You took a deep breath. "No, I know that, but why?"

Sylus blinked at you, expression calm yet calculating, like he was trying to gauge whether you were actually upset.

"Would you prefer a different one? I can acquire another if this one isn’t to your liking."

You choked. "Acquire—Sylus, I meant let’s just have a normal day at the park! With other people! Like… buying tickets, not—not monopolizing an entire amusement park for us!"

He hummed thoughtfully. "That would be inconvenient. I don’t like crowds."

Your brain short-circuited. "Okay, fair, but I’m not even sure how to react to this." You ran a hand down your face, staring at the vast, empty park. "Do I just… accept this? Should I ask you to sell it back? Is it even going to open to normal people when we're not here?"

Sylus exhaled softly, fingers curling beneath your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His red eyes, sharp yet steady, held an intensity that made your breath hitch.

"I wanted you to have the best experience," he murmured, his voice low, deliberate—like he was peeling back the layers of his thoughts just for you. "No interruptions. No strangers ruining our time. No one else pulling your attention away."

His thumb ghosted along your jaw, his touch as careful as it was possessive.

"I wanted today to be ours. Every moment, every ride, every second—only for us."

Your heart squeezed at the weight of his words.

Sylus was always confident, always in control—but this was different. This wasn’t about power or extravagance.

This was about ...you.

He had done this for you.

Damn him.

Damn him and his ability to turn something so ridiculous into something that made your heart melt.

You sighed, pressing your fingers against your temples before looking up at him again. "You really don’t do things halfway, huh?"

His lips twitched, almost smirking. "Would you expect anything less?"

You huffed, shaking your head. "Not at all."

His hand slipped from your chin to your wrist, fingers curling around it as he tugged you toward the entrance.

"Then let’s stop worrying about it and enjoy it as much as we can."

You let him pull you forward, your brain still catching up to the fact that this was happening. That you were about to experience an amusement park that was literally all yours for the day.

And honestly?

You weren’t going to complain.

But as you walked in, something felt... strange.

The park was…alive?

Despite the complete absence of other guests, the workers were still here—acting as if today was a completely normal day.

Vendors stood at their booths, flipping burgers, making cotton candy, lining up pretzels under warming lamps. The game stalls were manned, workers casually leaning against counters, ready to hand out prizes.

The park’s parade performers were still marching down the street. A princess in a poofy dress waved at you. Mascot characters moved in synchronized greetings, despite the fact that no one was here but you.

It was… surreal.

Sylus squeezed your hand as you slowed to take it all in. "I told them to proceed as usual. It would’ve been eerie if everything was frozen."

You turned to him. "So… it’s like the park is still running, but we’re the only ones who get to experience it?"

He nodded. "Yes. Don’t you think it’s better this way?"

You inhaled deeply, looking around again.

Sylus watched you carefully, his sharp eyes scanning your face. "Are you alright?"

You hesitated, then let out a quiet laugh.

“Of course! I mean—” You hesitated again, glancing around as your expression softened. “It’s nothing wrong, I promise! I love that you did this, I do, but…” You exhaled, running a hand through your hair before looking up at him again.

“I just—I wanted this day to be special not just for us entirely, but to have a moment together surrounded by everyone and everything.” Your voice was gentle, thoughtful. “The chatter, the energy, the crowds moving past us. The chaos of it all.”

You shrugged, a little sheepish. “I know you don’t like being around too many people, and I love that you wanted to make this day perfect for me, but part of what makes an amusement park so special is the shared experience, y’know? That feeling of being one in a sea of people, laughing together, screaming on rides, getting bumped into by kids running past, standing too close in lines because there's no choice…”

Your words trailed off as you searched his gaze, unsure how he’d react.

For a moment, Sylus didn’t say anything. His red eyes remained locked onto yours, unreadable, but there was something contemplative in the way his fingers idly traced over your knuckles, as if considering your words carefully.

Then, finally, he exhaled through his nose—slow and measured, his grip loosening ever so slightly.

“…I see...I- ” His voice was as calm as ever, but there was a shift in his tone.

He glanced around, taking in the completely empty pathways, the stalls with no customers, the parade performing for no one but you two. The sight of the workers, stationed and waiting, but missing the usual life of the park.

Sylus was pragmatic. He saw a problem, he solved it. Simple. To him, the best way to ensure you had an amazing day was to remove all obstacles—the crowds, the noise, the inconvenience of waiting in lines or dealing with other people.

But now, as he watched you, something seemed to click.

“…Would you like me to open the park?”

Your eyes widened. “Wait—you mean, like, right now?”

He nodded once. “If it would make you happy.”

Your heart stuttered. "Sylus—I didn’t say all that just to guilt you into—”

He raised a brow. “It’s not about guilt. You wanted to share this moment with people and I took that possibility from you” He pulled out his phone as if he could undo an entire park shutdown with a single call—which, knowing him, he probably could.

You stared at him, then let out a disbelieving laugh, reaching to stop his hand before he could dial. “Okay, hold on, let’s think about this rationally—”

Sylus merely looked at you, waiting for what you were bound to say next.

You exhaled, lacing your fingers with his properly. “Look, it’s okay. I love what you did, and I will enjoy this day with you.” You squeezed his hand. “I just needed a moment to process it, that’s all.”

Sylus was silent for a moment, his red eyes scanning your face as if committing every little twitch of emotion to memory. Then, his gaze flickered past you, landing on a nearby booth.

A teddy bear stand.

Without a word, he turned, gently tugging you along by the hand.

You blinked in surprise. “Wait—where are we—?”

He stopped in front of the booth, staring at the rows of stuffed bears lined up in varying sizes, from tiny keychains to ones nearly as tall as you. His jaw was set, unreadable, but his grip around your hand was firm.

“Sylus?” You tilted your head at him, watching as he eyed the game—a classic ring toss setup.

“I failed to give you what you really wanted,” he murmured, almost to himself. “You should at least receive something in return.”

Your chest tightened at the way he said it.

Soft, but laced with frustration.

Like he was genuinely bothered that his attempt to make you happy had missed the mark.

“Sylus…” You squeezed his hand, stepping closer. “You don’t have to win me anything—”

He ignored that, already rolling up his sleeves with practiced ease. His focus was entirely on the game now, eyes narrowing slightly as he studied the distance, the weight of the rings stacked beside the booth’s attendant.

Your lips parted in disbelief.

Sylus said nothing, simply holding his hand out for the rings. The worker—completely unphased, as if watching an overpowered, absurdly rich man win rigged carnival games was just another part of the job—wordlessly handed them over.

You sighed, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. "Sylus, you really don’t have to—”

The first ring landed perfectly on the bottle.

Your mouth snapped shut.

Another.

And another.

Without missing a single shot.

The worker gave a small, almost-impressed nod. “Pick your prize.”

Sylus turned to you, expectant.

You stared between him and the game, caught between laughter and disbelief. “This your way of an apology gift?

“And would that change anything if I said yes?”

“Sylus –”

You huffed, shaking your head before pointing to one of the bigger teddy bears—one with a white soft, plush face and an oversized red ribbon around its neck.

Sylus retrieved it without hesitation, turning to face you fully as he held it out.

“ you sure you didn't have me in mind? ” he said simply.

You giggled at him, your fingers curling around the soft fabric as you accepted the gift. “mayyybee”

It wasn’t about the bear. It wasn’t about the game.

It was him.

Sylus, who never half-assed anything. Who overthought in ways you weren’t always aware of. Who, despite his arrogance, still hated feeling like he had let you down.

Your heart squeezed painfully.

“…You’re too much at times” you murmured, hugging the teddy bear to your chest.

He exhaled, shaking his head. “Says the one getting emotional over a stuffed animal.”

You shot him a playful glare, but when he reached out, brushing his fingers against your wrist, you softened.

“....Still,Thank you, for everything-- I mean” you murmured.

Sylus didn’t say anything, but his grip lingered—just for a second—not thinking of letting you go.

But as you continued walking, you caught the way his fingers brushed against his phone once more, a brief flicker of thought crossing his expression.

You narrowed your eyes. “Sylus.”

“Hm?”

“You’re not secretly opening the park back up again ….behind my back…are you?”

His lips curled, amused. “...perhaps”

[excusemyobsessions]

Come on, breathe with me.

Sylus x MC/You

Scenario; Sylus helps you calm down a panic attack, fluff, comfort

Warning: description of panic attack, use of pet names (sweetie, kitten)

You couldn't breathe.

Panic gripped at your chest so tight, it squeezed out the air inside your lungs.

In your mind, you kept telling yourself it was okay over and over again, like a mantra.

You kept trying to remind yourself of your own grounding techniques, the ones that would work every time you were alone.

But you weren't by yourself this time. You craved Sylus' touch, craved his voice like you had never craved it before. All you wanted was to see him, have him tell you it was okay.

You were shaking heavily as your legs carried you towards his office where you found the door slightly open, the gentle melody of a vinyl record drifting out of the room.

Usually, you'd rap your knuckles against the door before you entered but there was just this tightness in your chest, an inexplicable urgency.

When you burst into the room, Sylus' eyes lifted from the stack of documents he was holding to meet yours.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" he questioned, instantly standing up.

The stack of documents he was analysing was instantly discarded onto his desk and in a few quick strides he was standing right in front of you, catching your hand which reached out for him within his gentle fingers.

As you told him what had triggered you to the best of your abilities, tears started flowing down your cheeks heavily, blurring your vision and making it hard for you to focus on the crimson eyes which gazed back at you attentively.

He listened to you closely, low encouraging hums rumbling from his chest, a big hand cradling your chin, the pad of his thumb wiping away the heavy tears as they kept falling from your eye.

"Oh, kitten," he cooed and even through the tears you could see his eyes soften.

Their usual cold crimson was warm, a vermillion ocean, so deep and tender.

You squeezed his hand and he let you, without a flinch, his thumb tracing over your knuckles back and forth at a slow, mindful pace.

"It's okay. You're okay," he reassured you in a low tone.

You sobbed and choked all at the same time, the emotions flooding you far too great.

"I c-can't breathe," you told him miserably, gripping onto him like a lifeline.

"Yes, you can. Come on, kitten, breathe with me."

The steadiness in his deep voice was soothing and you felt it in your racing heart.

"Come on, breathe in," and he did it with you, taking in a deep breath at the same time you attempted to.

When you shook your head, assaulted by another wave of sobs, he kept catching your tears, squeezing your hand in his.

"Shhh, it's okay. You're safe," he told you, gentle and firm. "There's no rush, take your time."

You wanted to close your eyes and focus on the slow stroking of his thumb over your knuckles but you were terrified he'd slip through your fingers if you did.

"I'm not going anywhere," he assured you, as if he could read your thoughts.

Sometimes you were thankful for his ability to predict just what was going through your head, through your heart.

"Come on, breathe with me."

Sylus wasn't demanding but his tone was firm, always steady, like an anchor.

"Deep breath in, can you do that with me?"

And you did, shakily so, along with him.

"That’s it, good. Now out, slowly."

And you let out the air trapped inside your lungs, feeling his warm breath against your wet cheeks as he breathed out along with you.

"Come on, you can do it again. Deep breath in."

And he kept coaxing mindful breaths out of you, his hands never leaving you, eyes locked onto yours the whole time.

When you were finally able to breathe on your own, he reached back for the box tissues on his desk, plucking a few out. Always keeping a point of contact, with his hand still within yours.

"My sweet little kitten," he cooed, turning towards you again.

With a gentle touch, he helped you clean the remains of tears and snot off your face.

"How about we go get you some snacks and huddle up on the couch? We can watch that movie you mentioned?" he offered, thin lips curved by a small, gentle smile.

"What about your work?" you questioned, already being led out of his office.

"It can wait." He shrugged.

[chrissturnsfav]

⋆.˚✮ valentine's day with rapper!chris and singer!reader

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬, this is a little longer than my usual blurbs :)

the night starts with chris strolling into the restaurant like he owns it, diamond chains catching the low golden light. his hand stays low on your back, a subtle claim, like the whole world should already know you’re his girl.

whispers ripple through the room—famous faces in every direction—but chris doesn’t give a single fuck. he pulls out your chair, smirking like he’s showing off, because he most certainly is.

"always gotta make a scene," you tease, sliding into the seat.

chris grins wide, his teeth glinting. "nah. the scene follows me."

you roll your eyes, biting back a laugh. "cocky fuck."

"yeah," he chuckles, rolling his eyes as he takes the seat across from you. "but you love that shit."

he’s not wrong.

dinner is stupid expensive but effortless—courses neither of you can even pronounce properly, champagne refilled before it ever empties. chris keeps the conversation wild, making you giddy, cracking jokes that make you laugh loudly even when you're trying to be proper.

"yo, you fancy as fuck right now, kid," he laughs, catching your van cleef rings glimmering in the dim light as you sip your drink.

"why, thank you," you giggle, cheeks warm.

"i told you i was gon’ do valentine’s right," chris says, nodding his head toward you before taking a sip of his champagne.

"right? you mean 'extra,'" you tease, narrowing your eyes.

he grins, shameless as he shrugs his shoulders and leans back in his seat, as if taking you out to the most expensive restaurant in paris is nothing. "my girl deserves the best, don't you think?"

you bite your lip, fighting a smile. he’s fucking impossible.

after dinner, chris pulls you close as you both head toward the eiffel tower. it’s packed with other couples—laughter floating through the air, lights shimmering against the dark sky.

you catch the glint of a paparazzi camera from the corner of your eye, and your stomach twists for a second, but chris clocks it immediately.

"fuck outta here," he mutters under his breath, shifting so his broad frame blocks the view. his arm stays wrapped firm around your waist, solid and reassuring.

"they always do too much," you huff, voice tight as you roll your eyes.

"nah, don’t trip," chris says low in your ear, "they ain't about to fuck up my night wit' my girl."

you exhale, leaning into him. how does he always knows how to keep you grounded?

the tower looks like a dream, lights flickering like stars. chris keeps making jokes to make you laugh, pointing out couples in matching outfits or doing the most for their instagram pictures.

"we look better than all these mothafuckers combined," he says, dead serious.

"dude, shut up," you giggle, but your cheeks grow pink because maybe he’s right.

afterward, back at the hotel, your breath catches when you step inside the suite. heart-shaped red and pink balloons float near the ceiling, rose petals cover the floor and king size bed, candles flicker on every surface. it smells like roses and something intoxicating—something that smells like chris.

"you did all this?" you chirp, your mouth falling open in disbelief, voice soft.

"hell yeah," chris grins, looking too fucking proud of himself. "had to flex a lil’ for you."

you shake your head, heart full. "you’re ridiculous."

"yeah, whatever," he scoffs with a chuckle, guiding you to the bed where a parade of designer shopping bags wait.

your jaw drops. "you did not."

"oh, i absolutely did." he lounges back, arms stretched wide like a king on his throne. "go on, open 'em."

you move through the bags—prada, dior, chanel, each one more jaw-dropping than the last. your chest tightens with emotion, but before you can even catch your breath, chris pulls out a sleek red cartier box.

"wait, wait," chris suddenly says, holding it up. "this the big one. close your pretty eyes."

you do as he says, heart racing. when you open them, he’s sliding a gold love bracelet onto your wrist. it gleams in the candlelight, sleek and perfect.

"know what makes this special?" he asks, voice low, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

"what?"

"only opens wit' this key," he says, holding up a tiny gold key between his fingers. "'n guess who’s got the only one?" he adds with a smirk.

your jaw drops for what feels like the third time tonight. "you’re fucking with me, chris."

chris grins wickedly. "nah, i’m serious as fuck."

"are you fucking crazy?" you laugh, shaking your head.

"maybe," he shrugs without missing a beat, voice raspy and cocky through a smirk.

your heart races, warmth spreading through your chest. without thinking, you straddle his lap, fingers threading through his curls.

"you spoil me too much," you whisper against his ear.

"nah, this is jus' a warm-up," he murmurs, hands firm on your waist. "i ain’t ever done showin’ you how much you worth."

the air between you is thick, humming with tension. his voice hangs in the space, rough and deliberate, making your pulse race.

you feel the weight of his hands on your waist, steady but commanding, fingertips pressing just hard enough to make your skin tingle through the silk of your dress.

you shift slightly, leaning in until your lips hover right over his ear. "you talk too much," you whisper, voice low and teasing.

his laugh is dark, laced with something primal. "oh, it’s like that?"

"mhmm," you hum, dragging your fingers down the line of his jaw, soft but deliberate.

chris doesn’t miss for a second. in one smooth motion, he flips the dynamic without trying, his grip firming as he pulls you flush against him. your breath catches, but the surprise only fuels the rush under your skin.

"i ain't even started talkin’ yet," he mutters, voice thick with promise, lips grazing the corner of your mouth—just barely.

you tilt your head, daring him with a cheeky smirk. "then stop teasing."

his grin is lethal, all confidence and heat. "aight."

he crashes into you, mouth claiming yours in a kiss that’s hot, messy, and unrelenting—yet full of love and adoration. your hands tangle in the back of his neck, nails grazing skin as he deepens the kiss, tongue sliding against yours in a rhythm that makes your whole body feel hot.

"damn, kid," chris breathes against your lips, voice wrecked but amused. "you wild tonight."

you smirk, catching your breath. "keep up."

his laugh rumbles low in his chest as he grips your thigh, fingers brushing bare skin under your dress. "oh, i gotchu, baby. believe that."

the kiss resumes, growing more and more hungry, but it's somehow still full of pure love. his fingers brush down the straps of your expensive dress, laughing cockily when he catches a glimpse of the red lace on your body as the dress sinks past your waist.

he pulls away, just to take a look at you in the red bra, little hearts embroidered into the mesh material. his eyes then flit up to your face, running his tongue over his bottom lip through a sinister smirk, "this my present?"

"you like it?" you giggle, a hint of blush heating on your cheeks, fingers idly toying with the silver chain around his neck.

chris proves to you how much he likes it when the lacy red g-string is pulled to the side, plowing passionately into your puffy cunt with loud wet squelches, rose petals shifting on the bed as he moves.

"so pretty," he grunts breathily, his fingers digging into your thighs as he holds them in a gentle yet firm grip against your chest, watching your walls swallow his cock greedily.

you whine softly, watching his pretty face above you through lidded eyes, messy curls bouncing in front of his blue irises. "c-chris...feels so...g-good..." you gasp softly, eyes rolling back as you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth.

chris hums cockily, smiling softly down at you as he leans down to peck your cheek, "yeah?" he mutters against your skin, pace not slowing for a second.

"really...good..." you whisper shakily, panting through soft moans, gasping when one of chris' hands moves to toy with your tit, brushing his finger over your hardened nipple over your thin bra.

"mhm...i know," he coos softly, huffing out a soft chuckle as his head dips down to pepper soft and wet kisses along your neck, your fingers threading through his soft hair. "jus' relax f'me, baby, i gotchu."

he grunts softly against your skin while you whimper, feeling his tip hit that spot deep within that makes your vision blurry. "wanna make you feel so fuckin' good...s'valentine's day...need my girl to be satisfied..."

thank you for reading!! <3

tags 🏷️: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @forgottxen , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @freakiolos , @slut4chris888 , @chriss-slutt , @ilovedanielcaesar , @annsx03 , @snoopychris , @chrissweetheart , @slutformatt17 , @mattsturnii , @dominicfikeenthusiast , @mattsbratt333 , @ivysturnss , @tessasturns , @coquettechris , @courta13 , @sturniolo101 , @malsmind

@chrissturnsfav ™

[writeriguess]

Hi! I love that you're back here on Tumblr writing. oh, I came to request a Bakugou x reader. She is a celebrity (I leave it up to you what kind of celebrity) and Bakugou is a prohero! They want to blackmail him into doing something to his beloved famous girlfriend. Angst is fine but with a happy ending I have no complaints, thanks u guurl 🙇🏼‍♀️❤️

author's note: Thank you <3

Scandal and Smoke

You always knew dating a pro hero came with risks. Paparazzi swarmed like vultures, tabloids twisted every glance, and the constant scrutiny of your every move never let up. But you could handle that. You were used to it—fame had clung to you like a second skin since you were sixteen.

What you weren’t prepared for was the darkness that came with it.

Katsuki Bakugou, Pro Hero Dynamight, had always been fiercely protective. He didn’t tolerate anyone looking at you wrong, let alone threatening you. But this time, it was different. This time, the threat wasn’t just some faceless internet troll or a rogue villain looking for leverage.

This time, it was someone with power. Someone who had something on him.

It started with a phone call in the middle of the night. You barely stirred when he slipped out of bed to answer it, his voice a low, dangerous growl. You recognized that tone—it was the one he used when something was wrong.

When he returned, his jaw was set in a hard line, tension rolling off him in waves.

“Katsuki?” you murmured, rubbing sleep from your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

He hesitated for half a second—longer than usual. Then he forced a scoff. “Nothin’. Just work shit. Go back to sleep.”

But you knew him too well. And you knew a lie when you heard one.

Days passed, and Katsuki wasn’t himself. He was distracted, irritable, pulling away from you in ways he never had before. He stopped kissing you before he left for patrol. Stopped calling you in between missions. When you tried to touch him, he flinched—like he was afraid of what would happen if he let himself get close.

Then came the first message.

A sleek black envelope, slipped under his agency’s door. Inside: a photograph.

A grainy image of you, taken through the window of your apartment, unaware of the camera. On the back, a single sentence:

Make her do it. Or we will.

Katsuki’s blood turned to ice.

It took three days for him to admit the truth.

“They want me to trick you into—” His voice caught, fists clenching so hard his knuckles turned white. “They want me to set you up. To get you alone with one of them.”

Your stomach churned. “What do you mean?”

Katsuki turned away, his whole body shaking with barely restrained rage. “They want me to make you trust someone—let ‘em get close. To get you in a situation where you can’t fight back.” His breath hitched, voice breaking. “They want me to give you to them.”

Silence hung between you, heavy and suffocating.

You took a step closer. “And if you don’t?”

His laughter was bitter, hollow. “They’ve got dirt on me. I dunno how, but it’s bad. Bad enough they think they can control me.” His eyes burned with frustration. “They said if I don’t do it, they’ll hurt you themselves.”

Your pulse pounded in your ears. The thought of someone using Katsuki, of forcing his hand like this, made your skin crawl. But you weren’t afraid of him.

You were afraid of what they might push him to do.

Days passed, and the threats grew more direct. A package arrived at your apartment with an unmarked USB drive. Footage played of someone tailing you through the city, lingering outside your agency, taking note of every routine you had. They were watching your every move, waiting for Katsuki to obey.

But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

And that’s when they pushed too far.

Katsuki met with them under the cover of night, a controlled explosion of fury barely restrained in his bones. He pretended to comply, feigning hesitation, playing into their sick little game.

The moment they let their guard down, he struck.

“Did you really think you could make me betray her?” Katsuki’s voice was a growl as he dodged a swinging pipe, grabbing the bastard’s wrist and twisting until he heard a satisfying snap. “You thought I’d hand her over like some fuckin’ package?!”

A second attacker lunged at him, but Katsuki ducked under the blow, shoving his palm against their chest. “Die,” he snarled before a controlled explosion sent them flying into a pile of crates.

Another man stepped forward, smirking. “You think you’ve won, Dynamight?” he taunted, wiping blood from his lip. “You’re outnumbered.”

Katsuki cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders. “So what?” he spat. “You’re all just dead men walkin’.”

The explosion rocked the empty warehouse, sending metal and concrete raining down. Before the dust settled, he had taken down the first attacker, fists meeting flesh with bone-crushing force.

Backup arrived within minutes—his own setup, a team of trusted heroes swarming in to dismantle the operation. The blackmailers were subdued, their leverage destroyed, their threats turned to nothing.

When he finally returned to you, bloody but victorious, you could barely breathe.

“Katsuki!” You ran to him, hands hovering over his injuries. “Oh my god, you’re hurt—”

“I’m fine,” he grunted, but his hands shook as he pulled you in, pressing his forehead to yours. “They’re gone. They can’t touch you.”

Your vision blurred with tears. “You should have told me sooner.”

“I know,” he admitted, voice raw. “I was scared.”

You cupped his cheek, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your palm. “Of them?”

“No.” He let out a shaky breath. “Of losing you.”

You kissed him—desperate, relieved, grounding. His arms tightened around you, holding you like he’d never let go.

“You’re safe,” he whispered against your lips. “We’re safe.”

Tears burned your eyes as you held him tighter. “We are.”

And for once, the only thing left to burn between you was love.

[cherrycheolkat]

• random slutty thoughts - seungcheol •

seungcheol’s resting bitch face annoys you - in fact, it’s so bothersome it distracts you during meetings - it makes you wonder if he ever smiles

you start glancing at him whenever there’s a chance, even in the hallway like a weirdo

but nothing - he’s like a constantly annoyed statue

worse you almost start to appreciate his face, which is just a new irritation, especially when he starts invading your normal thoughts

you can be enjoying your evening, having a nice dinner, and suddenly you’re wondering if choi seungcheol is having a nice dinner too, is he maybe out laughing with friends, or is he sitting in a sterile white room eating protein bars and listening to classical music like some serial killer - it’s obnoxious the way he’s taken up residence in your brain

this was not what you had in mind, when you idly wondered why he never smiled

it’s when you’re at a conference that you happen to notice something like a grin form on his stupid, handsome face

but it was a split second, so you were sure that didn’t count

you were surprised though when he sat next to you at the bar after the group dinner - you glanced to see him perusing the drinks menu, you also noticed he had rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt - you didn’t exactly hate seeing his muscular forearms

you decided it was best to focus on your drink though and to avoid any extra details about seungcheol

but no, no, no because he had to speak

“so what are you drinking anyway?”

you looked over, “me?”

he nodded, “i don’t know anyone else”

you glanced around, realizing you didn’t either

“oh um, some version of a paloma” - you wondered if you could be more basic - a margarita, that was possible more basic

he nodded looking back at the menu, there was a surprising awkward pause until the bartender came back for seungcheol’s order - you were surprised when he ordered the paloma too

it was quiet again until he got his drink and seemed to slightly choke on his first sip, “oof what is this? it’s like soap,” he whined

you watched him looking amazingly animated over the bad taste he had just encountered

“do you not drink often or something?”

“yes, i do, but this is foul,” he whispered

you laughed, “then order something you know you like, you know beer or whatever,” you were just guessing

he shifted uncomfortably, “i drink other things too,” he sounded petulant

you grinned, “oh yeah, i just watched that fun little experiment,” you nodded, “it seemed to go very well”

you watched him blush, “i can drink this, no problem”

you nodded, “umhm, i bet”

he looked supremely annoyed, “yeah, okay, i choke this down, and then i get to pick the next drink”

you couldn’t help but laugh, “okay and what we go back and forth trying to gross one another out?”

he nodded, “i bet you can’t get past one real drink”

you purse your lips and offer your hand, “fine, you’re on - loser has to grade papers for the winner for a week”

he suddenly looked very interested, “only if it’s the intro classes where every response is a garbled nightmare”

you nod in agreement, certain you can win this, “terms accepted”

you shake hands on this devil’s bargain

and you wake up the next day, having no idea who won or lost - in fact the only thing you know is that your lying in bed, fully clothed, and seungcheol is wrapped around you like you’re his personal body pillow

you elbow him roughly, which only makes him press closer

you groan and try to pull free, but he is really holding on - you finally manage to work yourself free, breathing hard from the effort, only to have him pull you back to him

you wanted to scream until you felt the kiss just under your ear and the soft laugh from him, “why are you always fighting me?”

his husky voice caught you off guard, but you quickly snap back, “how am i fighting you?”

he sighed, “you refuse to let anyone in the department get remotely close to you, and every time i invite you to something, you blow me off”

you roll your eyes, “because i don’t like the department’s holiday party?”

he nuzzled closer, “yeah, and every other thing, like game night, which is actually fun”

you were quiet for a moment - you could feel his fingers tracing little designs against your skin

“i do always hope you might show up to be my charades partner because jeff is truly awful,” his breath was so warm against your skin

“jeff is kind of an idiot, though, maybe manage your expectations,” you murmur

he hums in response, his hand wandering lower to your naked thigh

you can’t help yourself, “does jeff like cuddling after a bad night of charades too?”

he laughed to himself, “you’re hopeless”

he leaned up then, you thought he was going to leave or go to the bathroom, but instead he leans over you, gently caging you with his arms, “besides, jeff isn’t really my type” he whispers playfully

“umhm, so what is your type prof. choi?”

his expression is much softer than you think you can handle - he’s looking you over with his tender gaze

all things you’ve cataloged away about him swirl through your mind, like how gorgeous his eyelashes are, how pretty his skin is, how soft his lips look - and he’s so close, his slightly spicy cologne is really nice, you wonder why you had hated it before

it’s when his lips make contact that you hear you own soft moan, which seems to spur him on

you feel his hand on your thigh again, pushing up your skirt, you pull his hair and lick into him just as you feel his fingers brush the crotch of your panties

he’s almost too delicate when he fingers you, but you still feel an orgasm wash over you

you feel him lean up and watch as he unbuttons his shirt, without thinking you reach out and drag your nails lightly down his chest and abs, leaving slender pink lines

you glance up to see his smile, “cute, kitten”

you nod, “want to fuck your cute kitten?”

he nods slowly, licking his lips and unbuttoning his pants

you’re surprised to see his cock spring free, already half hard and only getting bigger

you lie back, opening your thighs wider - he watches you pull off your top and bra, he works his cock and groans softly when he sees you squeeze your own nipples

“play with me daddy” you coo, reaching down to push down your underwear and finger yourself sloppily

he nods, “yeah, kitten, get your pussy nice and wet for me”

you giggle when he pushes your hand away and picks up your legs, throwing them over his shoulders so your ass doesn’t even touch the bed

and when he plunges inside, you arch off the bed, feeling the intense way he’s stretching you

“perfect, kitten, taking me all the way the first time” he says sounding breathless himself

you’re panting and reaching for him, grabbing anything to help ground yourself

but then you feel him start moving, slowly at first and then he’s snapping his hips, you know your moaning from the intensity of it

you press lightly against his chest, “‘m so close,” you whimper

he groans, “i know kitten, i can feel you getting tighter,” he thrusts into you roughly, “you’re gonna come for me?”

you nod, breathless and grasping for the edge of the mattress, you’re moaning and whining, his cock is so good, you’re certain he’s fucking into your cervix at this point

you yelp and feel him pull out quickly, “oh kitten, fuck you really are perfect,” he whispers as you squirt for him, your juices gushing freely, your thighs shaking, he gives a soft smack to your pussy causing another spurt of cum, he smirks

and then he slides back in, his moan is so lewd - he only lasts a few more thrusts before he’s coming too

you find yourself lying on his chest, his cock still inside you - you aren’t sure what to do other than enjoy his warmth

at least the conference is over and you have a late flight, otherwise, you might be in a rush for him to pull out

[sturniololuvz]

Can you do smth where Chris and reader’s relationship is private (family knows just not social media) and in the most recent video you can see Chris touching readers hips and lower back, in the view of the camera and nick didn’t notice while editing it.

yesss! and somebody put to stop tagging smut #’s on my post with a child reader , and thank uu for saying that bc i wasn’t even looking at the tags i just put anything that said sturniolo on it😭 so sorry again .

“Caught on Camera”

Chris Sturniolo x y/n

Warnings : none

Chris and Y/N had been together for months now, but no one outside their close circle knew. Their relationship was something they wanted to keep just for themselves—no internet, no fan speculation, just them. Matt and Nick were in on it, of course, but the rest of the world? Completely clueless.

That’s why neither of them thought twice when they filmed their latest YouTube video—a casual Q&A while sitting around in the living room, laughing and joking like always. Chris, as always, found excuses to be near Y/N, whether it was leaning into her when he laughed or resting his arm behind her on the couch. It was second nature at this point.

A few days later, Nick edited the video like usual, chopping out dead space and lining up the cuts. He didn’t overanalyze the footage—he had done this a million times. Once he was done, he uploaded it, and they all went about their day.

Then, the comments started rolling in.

“Did anyone else notice Chris’s hand on Y/N’s hip at 12:42???”

“Wait, am I crazy or is Chris HELLA touchy with Y/N in this video? 👀”

“Guys, go to 15:10. HIS HAND. HIS HAND.”

Chris was scrolling on his phone when he saw the comments. His stomach dropped. “Oh, shit.”

Y/N, sitting beside him, furrowed her brows. “What?”

He turned his phone to show her. The comment section was flooded with people analyzing their every move. Fans were rewatching the video, timestamping moments where Chris had absentmindedly placed his hand on Y/N’s lower back or rested it on her hip while shifting positions. It wasn’t even that obvious—at least, he didn’t think so—but the fans had noticed.

Before Y/N could react, Nick walked into the room, phone in hand. “Bro, are you seeing these comments?”

Chris sighed. “Yeah.”

Matt trailed in behind Nick, looking amused. “How did you not notice this when you edited the video?”

Nick groaned, rubbing his forehead. “Dude, I was just cutting clips, not analyzing where your hands were the whole time. My bad.”

Y/N was trying not to laugh at how worked up Chris looked. “It’s not that bad,” she said, nudging him. “People are just speculating. We don’t have to say anything.”

Chris exhaled, nodding. “Yeah, I guess.”

Nick smirked. “Or you could just admit it and save me from having to edit around your hand placement every time we film.”

Chris threw a pillow at him, making everyone burst into laughter.

“Guess we’ll just be more careful next time,” Y/N said, smiling up at Chris.

Chris shrugged, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Or not.”

And with that, their little secret was safe—at least for now.

[freakbabyy]

soft universe - Eris Vanserra x Princess!Reader Chapter Two

< chapter one | chapter two | chapter three >

2.561k words

warnings: mentions of neglect, smitten!eris

second chapter!!!! ty for reading, for the loves and reblogs and comments!!! I LOVE COMMENTS!!!

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Story preview: Y/N Erling - youngest descendent to the King of Vallahan, not special, youngest of seven girls and four boys, and certainly not next in line to the throne. A kind soul, free-natured, always does what's asked. Content with spending the rest of her fae life taking care of her nieces and nephews while her elder siblings dealt with court dealings. That was until they drew up an agreement - her hand in exchange for their agreement to the treaty with Prythian. Enter Eris Vanserra - new high lord who did not want a wife, nor a mate. Can they work it out together - under pressure from a blood rite, a language barrier, a culture barrier, and Eris' unfortunate attempts at flirting.

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chapter two - runaway 

Eris’ POV 

I wouldn’t say I was dreading meeting Y/N Erling; but I wouldn’t say I was ecstatic. I didn’t know anything about her, I didn’t want to be married this fast, and I surely didn’t want to do a blood ritual and potentially put myself in danger - or my future heirs. But here I was, standing outside of Rhysand’s townhouse picking my cuticles – a nervous tick I’ve had since a child. What if she was insufferable? What if she was annoying, or would try and overthrow me to get Vallahan more land? Kill the remaining allies I have, which were few and far between before I married someone from Vallahan. 

“What’re we looking at?” I jumped, not realizing that the Illyrian brute had snuck up on me. 

“Nothing.” I snapped back, motioning for him to go first as I followed, we were most likely going to the same place. Rhysand’s office. “Haven’t you heard its rude to sneak up on people?” 

“I didn’t exactly sneak up; I’m surprised you didn’t hear me land right beside you.” Cassian took a stop in the kitchen, “I’ll catch up with you in Rhy’s office, I need some food first – Az kicked my ass in training.” 

I didn’t reply, simply walking down the decorated hall before ascending the stairs. I knew where I was going, often meeting Rhy’s for our own meetings here when needed. Though, a lot less lately since Beron was dealt with. Following the hand painted portraits on the walls, I stopped when I heard a sound out of place. 

It was almost too quiet to hear, but the cracked door let the sound out – a humming. I felt compelled to stop, to listen. I doubted it was Morrigan, she was too loud to be this quiet, the soft tone of the hums clearly establishing it was a female. Amren didn’t sing, and if she did it would be a battle hymn. It wasn’t Feyre – she was with Nesta and Elain; I passed them as I entered. That didn’t leave anyone other than Y/N, unless it was one of the shadow wraiths.  

“And I was running far away, would I run off the world some day? Nobody knows, nobody knows.” A female stood in the middle of the room with hair that looked as soft as a feather. She was facing away from the door, her body seemingly relaxed and holding something close. “And I was dancing in the rain, I felt alive, and I can’t complain, oh,” 

She swayed back and forth, getting into the song it seemed. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her form to take in the rest of the room, but when she turned and was staring down at what she was holding I knew. She was singing a lullaby to the small bundle that was Prince Nyx, cuddling him to her chest singing as if it was her favorite thing in the world to rock him to sleep. Her eyes, which were sparkling like gemstones were no longer staring at the sleeping prince, but now at the window.  She continued to sing her haunting melody, and I continued to listen.  

“Take me home, take me home where I belong,” Her stare was longing almost, and her voice was hauntingly beautiful, falling from her plush lips with ease as she didn’t even appear out of breath; like it was second nature. “I got no other place to go, take me home, take me home where I belong; I can’t take it anymore.” 

The more the song went on, the more I couldn’t bring myself to look away and the more it took for me to remember to breathe. Her song continued, as she slowly lowered the prince into his wooden crib, kissing her fingertips before lightly brushing them against the small amount of black hair atop his head. He fussed, but only for a moment before she started to sing more – even more angelic as she began to dance.  

Her movements were slow, as if she were performing for the prince instead of lulling him to sleep. She twirled in a circle slowly, her eyes closed, as she tilted her head to the ceiling – twirling so much grace it had to of been second nature. My head tilted as well, watching her mesmerized. I was unsure why it was pulling me in, why she was pulling me in – until it happened.  

“And I kept running, for a soft place to fall-” She continued, and I was sure the young prince was asleep by now although she kept singing. When she stopped in her tracks and stared outside the window once more and a dreamy smile graced her lips, as it snapped. 

I physically had to clench my teeth to stop myself from making a sound, holding onto my tunic as emotions flooded my entire being – warmth being the most prominent one. Her singing faded into the background; my eyes blurred as I tried to focus on a single thing to no avail. I held the doorframe, turning and sliding down the wall beside the door landing on my knees as I had realized what just happened.  

“Incredible, huh?” A voice startled me out of my stupor, as I stood quickly to brush my trousers off. 

“What?” I shook my head, staring up at the Illyrian brute eating half a sandwich still. 

“Her ability to get Nyx down so fast, it takes anyone else like an hour to get him to stop fussing enough to give in to sleep.” The long-haired male patted my shoulder before I followed him into Rhy’s office, still feeling my heart beating in my ears. “Nervous for the meeting, bud?” 

“No.” I cleared my throat, straightening my hands to stop them from fidgeting and betraying me in my lie. “And I’m not your bud, Cassian.” 

He shrugged as he shouldered the door to Rhysand’s office open, inside was Morrigan, Azriel, Rhysand, Feyre and Nesta. When had those two snuck pasts me to go into the office? Rhysand pointed to one of the open chairs, where someone wasn’t sitting. I chose the one in the corner as usual. 

“Good morning, Eris. How’s high lord life treating you?” Rhysand started conversation as usual, too. 

“Oh, just a blast, like unicorns prancing through meadows.” I drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm before rolling my eyes and speaking once more. “It’s rough right now, I just had to gather a completely new advisory council after one member was trying to bribe guards to not tell me his crimes Beron had hidden.” 

“What were the crimes?” The shadowsinger questioned, curiosity getting the better of him. 

“Four counts of arson, three counts of treason, and eleven counts of illegal prostitution.” Cassian choked on his sandwich, to which Nesta took the rest of and gave him a look before finishing it. 

“Well, isn’t that lovely of him, I do wonder if those were recent or not – from my memory Beron’s advisors are- were all dirt old.” Rhysand shuttered as Feyre spoke. 

“Very recent, and they were.” A few others shuttered at the thoughts, as I cleared my throat. “Anyway, I do believe we should get this over with. I have many meetings later on in the afternoon to deal with that.” 

“Ah, of course; though there are some things first we should talk about before we introduce you to Y/N.” He motioned to his cousin, as Morrigan took over. 

“First things first, she’s a lot younger than we anticipated.”  

“You’re not making me a baby snatcher, are you? Because if that’s the case-” 

“She’s of age! She’s 23. She’s mature for her age, too – I've known her for a couple years and I swore she was at least 100.” Morrigan reassured me, if only a little. “More importantly, she isn’t fluent in Prythian common tongue. She doesn’t know basic mathematics, and she doesn’t know much about geography.” 

“What does she know? I thought she was royalty? Aren’t the royalty overseas generally very well educated?” Rhysand spoke next, an almost solemn look on his face. 

“They are. They just didn’t educate her. She’s the eleventh child – and mostly forgotten about by her parents. Her siblings were much older than her and had other obligations to attend to. In short – she was practically neglected.” He took a breath, “She was basically the live-in nanny. She took care of her sibling's children and gave up her career and future for that – just because they asked.” 

“Why would she do that?”  

“She didn’t have a choice. Either that or become forgotten again. I know you heard her on your way up, yes?” Feyre questioned, a sparkle in her eye. I nodded. “She was going to be a theatre performer. She did orchestra and loved plays. Her dancing rivals Nesta’s. Nyx enjoys her voice, and she enjoys taking care of him.” 

That explains the dancing and singing in the nursery, her expertise in dancing and singing were definitely not unnoticed.

“She was forced to take care of children, and now you have her taking care of yours?” 

“She volunteered. Practically jumping up and down when she asked to hold him.” Rhysand smiled, a knock resounding from the door, bouncing around the room. 

“Ah it is me!” The thick broken accent spoke from the other side, slightly muffled from the thick wood of the door. 

“Yes, come in.” Rhysand responded, as Cassian leaned towards me, 

“Don’t panic if she falls to the floor. She does that sometimes,” He smiled before slapping my shoulder again, and I was even more confused. Giving me advice? Is he trying to be my wingman? 

“Wait, what?” I questioned, his sentence sinking in. If she collapses? I stood abruptly as the door swung open slowly, 

“Sorry. This is heavy.” She said, pushing the door shut after entering.  She walked towards where the empty seat was, holding her hands clasped together behind her, holding a small soft smile and bowed her head to everyone. “Elain told me to visit, I here.” 

Rhysand smiled, Morrigan giving a thumbs up in encouragement – as I turned to look at her fully, she adorned a simple gown with an apron, it had slight stains on it – accompanied by a small shovel in her pocket. She gardened? Her feet were in simple flats, and her hair was in a comfortable hairstyle.  

“Y/N, this is Eris Vanserra, Eris, this is Y/N Erling.” Immediately she straightened up. 

Her hands letting go of each other and rejoining in front of her, wringing together. Her brows shot up, furrowing, as she glanced to Feyre. She looked from Feyre to my feet. Then back to Feyre. Feyre smiled a bit but then nodded while stifling an amused look. Before I could even stick my hand out for a greeting, she was on the floor. I heard the audible ‘thunk’ as either her head, or body hit the floor. I was thinking the lather as everyone else made a face. 

“I told you,” Cassian whispered loudly behind me, and I was unsure what to do. 

“You can get up, Y/N.” Nesta spoke, as she clambered up. Nesta drawled on as if this was her hundredth time saying it. “It’s how her custom shows respect. Lower the more respect.” 

“Oh,” Her bowing her head to everyone made sense now, I bowed my head as well, glancing up to make sure it was okay, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.” 

“You, too.” She stuck her hand out, “I do your custom now.” 

“Ah,” I agreed, unsure what else to do, and went to shake her own hand. She looked baffled after, “Did I do something wrong...?” 

“You shake wrong.” 

“I- what?” I could hear muffled laughter followed by a slap behind me,  

“Here, I teach. Hand.” I complied, sticking my hand out, as she grasped my top two fingers before bringing my hand up and down. “See?” 

I was confused but nodded anyway. Where did she learn that? It must be another Vallahan custom perhaps. 

“That’s how she shook Cassian’s hand, and no one had the heart to correct her.”  A voice spoke inside my head, and I gave Rhysand a curious look.  

“Well now that that’s over with, why don’t we talk about when you two would meet next, and where. Did you want to stay here, or?” Rhysand questioned, looking back and forth between us, as I went to agree she spoke up. 

“Can we meet there?”  

“Where?” Morrigan questioned, speaking in Vallahan. 

“Autumn?” Y/N responded also in her native tongue, turning to me and looking me in the eye, “I am sorry, I do not know the word.” 

“No need to apologize, it’s alright. We can help you learn now.” I did my best reassuring smile, which was probably more of a smirk, and turned to Morrigan. “What did she say?” 

“She... actually asked to go to Autumn.” I was shocked. Surely, she wanted to stay somewhere she was comfortable already, since she was just pulled from her home? “Is Autumn stable enough to visit for an hour or two?” 

“It is in some places. I can take her on a nature walk? Do you enjoy the woods?” I directed the question to Y/N, and she looked a bit puzzled. 

“He wants to know if you want to see Autumn’s nature? I’m sure you can find some flowers native to Autumn there.” Feyre translated, and she seemed to perk up. 

“Oh! I like flowers. Yes.” She said the answer to me, and at her excited face – her wide eyes and even wider smile I felt my heart do a couple flips. 

“Great. Then it’s settled. Autumn, should we say two days from now? Noon-ish?” Feyre confirmed, glancing more at me for the time. 

“I can do one o’clock. I have an early meeting that may run late to noon.” 

“Wonderful. See you then.” Rhysand nodded once in confirmation, as I stood to leave, and bid farewell before making my way to the door. 

“Ah, wait!” I turned, stopping myself from winnowing by the Sidra. It was Y/N, a bit out of breath from running down the stairs. 

“Yes, princess?”  

“Here, my custom.” She had me hold my hand open before she dropped something into it, closing my fingers around it with her tiny hands – and I had hoped mine hadn’t started sweating with nerves. “We give handmade stone to other.” 

“Handmade stone?” I opened my fingers to look at a bright orange crystal, it was shaped as a tiny animal. Upon further inspection, it was a tiny fox. “What is it?” 

“Sunstone,” She moved my hand, so it glistened in the sun, becoming even brighter. “It brings good luck and energy. For you.” 

I was touched. She hadn’t even met me yet, and she already made me something handmade. She took her hand back, and picked up a rock from the sidra, it was already fox shaped – probably chiseled already and cooling off in the river, she cupped her hands around it before squeezing. When she let go, it was another orange fox, but smaller. She placed it also in my hand, smiling again. 

“Now he has friend.” I took her hand in mine, clasping the foxes in the other, and bend my head to lay a kiss on the back of her hand, lingering. She turned the color of Morrigan’s shirt today, a deep crimson,  

“Thank you.” I let go, and before disappearing, I turned once more. “See you in two days.” 

“Ah, goodbye. Two days.” 

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eek! im so excited to write more of this series and im so glad you guys like it too!

taglist: @bxm-2121 @itsxchar6 @iambored24601 @sparksandstarss @an-introverted-nishinoyasimp

[delugyu]

bsf kai and dry humping send tweet

ohhh anon u get me so well 😇

(wc: 2.3k / warnings: college au, virgin loser kai, corruption kink, some humiliation, dry humping, cumming in pants)

Hanging out with Kai is usually a very routine thing: you get food somewhere around campus, you bring him back to your dorm, and you talk for hours until he decides to leave—or until you convince him to go to some frat party with you.

“This sucks. I need to stop saying yes to you all the time.” His words make you laugh. You both know he’ll never stop saying yes to you.

“You might enjoy things more if you actually try to have fun,” you say. “Or if you have one of these.” You hold your plastic cup out to him until he takes it from you, staring at it like it’s some foreign object.

“I don’t drink,” he finally replies, looking up at you again. It’s funny how awkward he looks with the drink in his hand. He’s so stiff and uncomfortable.

“Liar. We got wasted together last month.”

He flushes red at your callout. “That’s different! It was only us!”

You roll your eyes. “Everyone’s drunk here. What difference does it make?”

Kai pouts and looks off to the rest of the people. Everyone’s dancing and singing and playing drinking games, meanwhile you and Kai are stuck leaning against some wall where no fun is going on. Boring! You take his arm and start pulling him towards the party, throwing him a grin over your shoulder as his eyes bug out at your boldness.

You stop when you’re deep enough into the crowd, turning to Kai expectantly. You laugh when you notice how tense he is. It’s like he forgot how to move his body like a normal human.

“Chug this!” you shout over the music, poking the cup that’s still in his hand. He looks around like he’s scared he’ll get caught doing something bad. You sigh, “Fine, don’t. Give me that.” You take the cup back from his hand and swallow the rest of the liquor. You hiss at the burn in your throat before throwing the empty cup over his shoulder, not caring where it lands.

Kai’s head turns to follow the cup’s movement, but you bring his attention back to you with a hand on his face. “Shouldn’t we pick that up?” he asks, even as you’re squishing his cheeks together in your hand.

“Let the frat boys take care of it tomorrow,” you say. He looks like he’s about to argue against that, so you continue before he can, “Do you want to dance?”

He’s taken aback. Your hand drops from his face to his shoulder, resting there as he figures out his answer. “Dance? I don’t—I’m not really”—

“You don’t want to dance with me?” You pout, trying to tug at his heartstrings. He opens and closes his mouth stupidly, and it makes you giggle. You put your other hand on his chest and blink innocently at him.

“I’ll dance with you,” he answers, cracking under the pressure like you knew he would. As previously established: he will always say yes to you.

“Yay!” Your smile must be lighting up the whole room with how much joy you feel. You tug Kai closer to you, trying to get him into position, but he keeps his hands still as stone beside him. “Kai. Hands here,” you say as you guide them to your hips.

“Oh. Sorry.” You hold in your laugh, not wanting to fluster him too much.

“It’s okay. I forgive you,” you tease, poking his nose. The two of you stand there unmoving, and it’s cute at first, but you get a little tired of it after a minute. You let the music guide your hips, singing along to the song and enjoying yourself. Kai is more like an accessory than a dance partner with how he just watches you.

You trail your finger down his chest, trying to encourage him to be a little more playful and let loose. It seems to have the opposite effect—his hands go stiff on your hips, fingers digging in.

“Have fun! Don’t think about it so much,” you say before swaying again. You try moving closer to him so your bodies press together, but he takes a step back. You pull your eyebrows together, looking at him in question.

“I-I’m probably not the best person to dance with,” he stammers out. You roll your eyes.

“Getting all awkward with me now? Come on, I thought we were closer than that.” Your faux pout returns to your face, but it leaves when you see the frown on his. Oh no, you didn’t embarrass him, did you?

You’re quick to try to fix your mistake. “Or not! We can always sing. I like singing too.”

His frown doesn’t leave his face. Okay, no singing! That’s fine too! You try thinking of something else.

“We can find an empty room and just hang out there?” you suggest, figuring he might not want to be surrounded by all these people anymore.

His face finally morphs into something less pitiful. You almost sigh in relief. “Let’s do that,” he says.

You push your way through the crowd until you’ve made it to the stairs. You groan when you see the endless sea of couples making out on them. You’d yell at them to get a room, but you don’t want them to take one from you and Kai.

“Sorry, coming through, don’t mind us,” you say as you squeeze past everyone.

“Oh my god. Stop,” Kai says, embarrassed. You wonder what it must feel like to care so much what people think of you.

You walk down the hall until you find an open room, bolting to it with a victorious cheer. Kai doesn’t follow with as much enthusiasm as you, but he still looks happy enough to be alone with you finally. You lock the door and turn on the light, looking around the room.

“Oh yeah. This place screams male college student,” you say, walking around the room. You pick up a bottle of lotion on the desk. “Seriously? Shameless,” you tsk.

“You probably shouldn’t go through people’s stuff,” Kai says. You turn to him, seeing him already sitting on the bed. He’s got a pillow thrown over his lap. You raise your eyebrow at that.

“You see a bottle of lotion and feel a little tingle down there?” His face glows red at your insinuation.

“No!!!” he retaliates, voice squeaking.

“Then what’s that about?” you say through barely held-back laughter. He hides his face in his hands. You almost want to coo at him. You join him on the bed and push his hands away from his face. He can barely make eye contact with you. “Hellooooo?” you giggle.

When he doesn’t respond, you try moving the pillow away yourself—you’re in a teasing mood—but Kai holds the pillow firmly against him. You really can’t contain your laughter now.

“Are you seriously hard right now?!” You find the situation so amusing. “From what?”

He whines and leans down until his face is buried in the mattress. You almost feel bad for torturing him so much, but he signed up for this when he became your best friend.

“From you,” he murmurs into the blankets, so muffled that you’re not sure you heard him right. You lift his head up a bit by his hair.

“Come again?” you prompt.

His face is still bright red. “When we were dancing. I just… ugh.” You go silent at that for a second. He’s hard because you danced with him..?

“That’s kinda hot.” It slips out before you can catch it. Not that you would have held it back, anyway.

He perks up when you say that. “What?” he asks.

“It’s hot that you got hard from that. Makes me feel good, actually,” you laugh, but it doesn’t sound teasing anymore. Kai straightens himself out, sitting up completely. He stares at you like he’s trying to decide if you’re pulling a prank on him or not.

You guess you’ll have to help him see how much you mean it. You swipe the pillow from his lap. He scrambles for it back, but you’re too quick for him this time. You giggle when your eyes land on his bulge.

“I’m sorry. I’m really not a pervert. I’m just…” he struggles to finish his thought. He bites his lip and looks away.

“Just what?” you ask, still hanging onto his words. His eyes meet yours, afraid to make his confession.

“A virgin,” he whispers.

Oh. A beat of silence follows. Something very evil and sinister creeps into your mind—nothing unusual—but this time, it’s centered around defiling your best friend. You had no clue that all this time he was a little virgin!

“Isn’t that so cute?” you coo, crawling up to him. He backs up, propping himself up on his elbows as you invade his space. He stutters out your name, looking at you with wide eyes. You smile down at him, tracing your hand down his chest much like you did earlier.

“Cute?” he asks, all breathy and nervous. You really try so hard not to smirk like an evil bitch at that, but you can’t help it. You are kind of an evil bitch.

“So cute,” you say. He gulps when your hand keeps traversing down his torso. His eyes follow your fingers down, down, down, until they reach his pants. Your hand dances along the front of his jeans, just lightly tracing over the button and hem.

Your pussy’s throbbing now, delighted at the thought of making Kai squirm beneath you. You meet his eyes with a whole lot of hope, praying he’ll let you have your fun. He shrinks a bit under your eager gaze.

“Can we help each other out?” you ask, crawling over him even more until your hips are hovering over his lap. Your noses touch, and you feel his shaking breaths on your face. You brush his hair back, wanting to put your hands all over him.

“I don’t know how to… help… a woman…” he admits meekly. It takes all your effort to not smother his face with kisses.

“Just lay down, I’ll take care of it,” you say sweetly. He blinks up at you, looking so much like a doll that it just makes you want to ruin him even more. As soon as he lays back, you push your hips down to meet his. His reaction is immediate, giving you a loud whine already.

“Such sweet sounds,” you praise as you start rocking your hips gently against him. He drops his mouth open, panting as you move just barely over him. You take his hands into yours, lacing your fingers together and holding his hands beside his head. “My cute best friend,” you coo, making him look away. That just endears you more.

“You’re embarrassing me,” he mutters, making you laugh. You kiss his jaw.

“My sweet Kai~” You seriously can’t stop yourself, the words spill out of you so freely. He can handle a bit of embarrassment, it’s okay.

You let yourself admire the view for a minute before leaning back to gain more control of your movements. You roll your hips as you grind against him, letting out a content sigh when your clit gets some stimulation. Kai whimpers when you speed up just a bit, trying to get a little more pleasure out of this.

“Y-you’re cute, too…” Kai says, then gasps at your hips rolling harder against him. “Like that, please, don’t stop!” he urges, looking up at you desperately.

How could you say no to that? You keep up your pace, making sure to keep him whining and moaning. “I’m glad you think I’m cute,” you say. Your hand moves up to play with your tits, twisting and pinching your nipples to get yourself there faster. You moan when Kai’s hips jolt underneath you.

His breath is hitching and his hips keep pushing up further into you. You grin, excited to push him over the edge. “Is my Kai gonna cum? Gonna make a mess in your pants like a virgin?”

“Mhm,” he hums out in response, nodding rapidly. You hasten your pace against him, pressing into him harder, moaning above him as you do. Your clit throbs with every roll, encouraging you to grind more deeply to reach your high.

“Cum for me, baby, tell me how good it feels,” you say, trying to get him to spill in his jeans. It seems to work, judging by the way he pushes his hips up against you as much as he can, so much that you feel the way his cock twitches in his jeans. It makes your head spin.

“Feels good! Ah, feels so good! Thank you, thank you!” His cries are what finally push you over the edge, hips stuttering as your legs tighten against him, muscles contracting as your orgasm rips through you. You’re left panting and trying to ride out your orgasm, letting your hips move sloppily against his until you’re both shaking from overstimulation. You slow down gradually, regaining your composure as the lustful haze clears the room.

“Fuck,” you groan, fully coming to a stop. Kai sits up and buries his head in your shoulder.

“Fuck,” he repeats like he’s agreeing. His chest heaves as he gets his breathing back under control. You tangle your hand in his hair, mindlessly playing with it as he breathes softly against you.

“So… virgin, huh?” you ask, grinning wickedly. Kai rolls his eyes.

“Spare me the jokes,” he says. “You already made me cum my brains out. Thanks for ruining my jeans, by the way.”

“That was all you.” You pat him on the back. “Now you’re one step closer to getting pussy. Look at you go, champ.”

He groans and leans further into you. “You’re the worst.”

“Uh-huh. Not what you said five minutes ago.”

“You were still the worst then, too,” Kai deadpans, making you laugh.

“You love me so much, don’t lie.”

“I do,” he says, joining in with your laughter.

[thatguyjam]

Highschool Sweethearts - Max Verstappen

Valentines event Masterlist <3

Max Verstappen x Male!ChildhoodFriend!Reader

You and Max Verstappen grew up in the same town, and went to school together, and quickly grew close. Although you didn't cart, you would always play with max's toy cars, leading to you being his best friend pretty quickly. His dad didn't like you very much, only ever seeing you as a distraction from Max's racing, but his mom always welcomed you with open arms, just happy that you could make her son happy.

As both of you got older, Max was away for racing more and more often, and the two of you couldn't help but separate a touch. Quite a bit actually, to the point where the once inseparable friends hadn't talked in years. That was, at least just until one day when you where towards the end of high school, he showed up at your door.

"Hoi- Max???"

"Y/N!!! Y/N guess what!!!"

Max came into the house like he lived there despite not having been there for years, buzzing with energy, only stopping to politely take off his shoes and look as you expectantly

"Huh?"

"Guess what"

"What?"

"Well, guess"

"Max, I haven't seen you in ages, how would I know? You've just randomly shown up at my house in the middle of the day."

"Oh yeah, it- I'm sorry it's just with carting and single seaters getting to a high level I'm hardly even in town, and whenever I am, dad is working me to the bone, I just- I'm sorry I haven't come by as much. I've missed you a lot. If it's any consolation you're the first person I've told? Even before my dad."

"Told what exactly? We didn't really get there"

"Oh! I'm gonna be a f1 driver next year!" Jaw dropping, your eyes widen as you stare at your childhood friend. Max takes your hand and pulls you to the couch as he rambles on, "Yeah, youngest ever, even younger than Vettel was. I'll be driving with Alpha Tauri, which isn't the best of course, but it is still very good, and they said if I perform well I'll definitely have a seat at Redbull."

Your brain finally catches up with the situation as Max continues on about things you never really understood, you think you hear the name Damiel a lot and mentions of F2, but your thoughts are going too fast to be sure. Looking up, you're finally able to really look at the blue eyes that have been absent from your life for too long. A feeling in your chest that you remember from when you where a kid bubbles up again, and there is nothing you can do as you surge forward and plant a kiss on Max's rapidly moving lips. His eyes go wide, and lips silent as he processes the situation, before he clumsily kisses back.

When you pull away, those big blue bambi eyes look up at you, cheeks tinted pink as he struggles to catch his breath

"That was- That was incredible. I've never kissed anyone before"

"Never? Awww, I was future formula one driver Max Verstappen's first kiss? Cute"

An even darker red forms over his cheeks as he buries his face into your chest.

"I'm glad you're the first person I told" he mumbles into your chest, pushing you further down onto the couch so that he can properly lie atop of you.

"Me too pretty boy, me too."

banner credit to @enchanthings-a

Taglist: (comment or dm to be added)

@koalapastries @justaf1girl

[cwritesforfun]

Hey can I request an emporor geta x reader, like them growing up together, maybe reader is the daughter of one fo the senators. As they become teenagers they fall in love with eachother, like cute first kiss and first time kinda thing

Emperor Geta x Fem!Reader: Teenager In Love (Request)

Y/N - Your First Name

They will not follow the Roman style of speech - it will be written in modern language.

*I do not own the Gladiator 2 characters or plot.* I do change some of the plot and add new characters. *

Your POV

You grew up living in Rome with your father, Senator Titus. (Yes, a new character!) Your father was good friends with Senator Gracchus and met with him many times in secret about how to overthrow the senators.

You spent your days braiding hair, drinking wine, dancing, socializing, and entertaining guests. You were a pianist, and your talent was in demand by whoever sat on the throne in Rome. Your father let you go and play for guests as long as you took 2 of your security guards. So you did.

This experience of playing in the palace introduced you to Calla and Geta. You met them at a young age as they were both maturing. They were lanky and pale and soon to rule. They intimidated you.

One day you got close with Calla after talking to Dundus and giving him snacks.

You became friends with Geta quicker. He trusted you and you would help him throughout the day. You were often at his right hand side much to your father’s dismay. Your father disliked your closeness to Calla and Geta.

You were intrigued with the relationship between Calla and Dundus because you had never seen someone so trusting and needy of a pet.

Then there was Calla and Geta’s relationship. It was not one you wanted for yourself. Geta watched over Calla to where it took a toll on him. You could see the light dimming from Geta’s eyes day by day.

…

It was to your surprise that one night, when you were already asleep at home, you were awoken to your guards announcing Geta’s arrival. You quickly threw a robe over your pajamas, slid your knife into your pocket, and ran downstairs. Geta was pacing at the bottom of the steps, and he looked worried. You bow and quickly ask, “Geta, what may I do for you this late?” He answers, “I need to talk to you.” You nod and lead him into the sitting room closest to you. You sit on the couch next to each other, and he confesses, “I’m not fit to rule. There are so many things I haven’t done and so many things I still haven’t learned. I’m not ready for this.” You place your hand on his rubbing circles on it and say, “Geta, you are ready. You’ve always been strong and confident in your ability to lead. Whatever is shaking you up tonight, push it aside because you are fit to rule.” He says, “I haven’t even kissed a girl yet.” You reply, “Oh well, that’s easy to check off. It also does not affect your leadership... You should just kiss me.” His eyes widen, and he asks, “Really? Do you mean it?” You answer, “If it’ll help you sleep tonight and make you feel fit to rule, yes, I mean it. I will kiss you.” He smiles, leans in, and kisses you.

…

If people thought you two were close before, then that is nothing compared to after the kiss.

Geta never failed to find you in a crowd. If you were there, he would know and he would request your presence.

Once, you had just entered into the palace into a big crowd and Geta’s guards found you just like that. When you made it over to Geta, you ask, “How’d you know I was here already? I just arrived.” He answers, "I'll always look out for you." You smile, and he softly presses a kiss to your cheek. He pulls you into a different room and says, “I’ve been thinking about our kiss, and I think we should do it again.” You wrap your arms around his neck and ask, “Are you really going to do this every day that we see each other? It’s been 6 months.” He shrugs, wrapping his arms around his waist, and says, “Why? It could be our thing.” You smile, and he presses a kiss to your lips.

That night ends differently than your usual nights. Geta requests you to walk with him in the gardens. You notice he seems fidgety and off. You ask, “Geta, what’s wrong?” Geta answers, “Nothing, I just have something on my mind.” You keep walking and reach an area with your favorite flowers. Geta asks, “Are these still your favorites?” You answer, “Yes, they’re truly beautiful too.” He nods, bends down on one knee, and exclaims, “I bow to no one. But... as tradition goes, when a man asks a woman for her hand in marriage, they should kneel. I am entranced by you, my sweet, beautiful Y/N. You bring me light, and you are always supportive. I have come to rely and depend on you. I find myself wishing you to be here every night and every day by my side. So... I guess what I’m asking is will you marry me?” You answer, “Yes!”

…

You move in within 2 weeks after Geta proposes.

Geta can hardly handle his excitement that he throws a feast to celebrate your engagement.

That night, Geta's hands don't leave your body. They're on your waist, your shoulders, and tracing your body as you spend your first night together.

[catharticconsolation]

requests bot dump: valentine’s release

the iron claw.

♡David Von Erich- white wedding (by billy idol) Honeymooning on tour after a quick, rushed wedding was not the most romantic thing in the world. But to David, it was perfect, watching you sleep all soft and hazy next to him in a shitty motel bed. Because he’s with you.

♡Kerry Von Erich- someday we might (fallingforyou by the 1975)- Kerry’s been seeing you around, in the crowds of his matches, hanging around and cheering and so, so excited. Yet it still shocks him to see you in the back alley outside the venue, long after the fight is done, hands holding out a pen and a picture for him to sign, all alone in the cold.

shameless.

♡Lip Gallagher- enough for me to love (gypsy by fleetwood mac)- No one ever thought that Lip Gallagher would settle down. But here he is, with a girl and a baby boy, his little love, and a finally stable job. Maybe he’s healing.

♡Carl Gallagher- think you might hate me (girl, so confusing by charli xcx)- Neither of you know what’s going on between the two of you, and yet the bitterness and the hatred seems so, so satisfying.

challengers.

♡Patrick Zweig- jesus can always reject his father (family tree by ethel cain)- Patrick is in love with the pastor’s daughter, and communities like to turn on those who are different.

♡Patrick Zweig- make me dream of you (wicked game by chris isaak)- The world doesn’t know you. The world knows you from the stage, from being half naked and wrapped round a pole. But Patrick knows the real you, and he wants you.

misc.

♡Chandler Bing- so full of love, could barely eat (work song by hozier)- Chandler doesn’t often find himself being serious, but when his baby is upset, he suddenly knows just how to be tender, as if it’s second nature.

♡Carmen Berzatto- the street where mothers weep (i want you by bob dylan)- Family dinners never go well in the Berzatto household, and Carmy seems even more on edge just trying to keep you happy during your first time amidst the chaos. But he gets snappy, as always, and he always comes out as the asshole.

♡Kenickie Murdoch- born to handjive, baby- Kenickie is a sleaze, always has been and always will be. But it doesn’t deter you from hanging around, prancing around on his arm at every school dance.

♡Bob Dylan- melt back in the night, babe (it ain’t me, babe by bob dylan/ joan baez)- It’s easy for Bobby to switch up between oh so loving to closed off and empty. And yet, on mornings like this, you just wish that he’d come back to bed.

♡Spencer Reid- les (by childish gambino)-Spencer is getting tired of hiding you, and he might just be a little tipsy in the back of a taxi, sending the sneakiest of pictures of you to Morgan. He’s always said that he hates secrets.

♡Jake Peralta- crawling back to you (do i wanna know? by hozier)- Jake knows that he’s annoying, and he likes to think that he knows when to stop. But no, he doesn’t stop until you get scolded by the captain, and all of a sudden, he feels awfully, terribly sorry.

notes: these are all requested bots, sorry if they aren’t very good or valentines themed, it’s just that i didn’t really have much time to make anything else. credit to @toastray for the amazing dividers!

the link to each bot is the little red heart, happy Valentine’s Day, remember that bots aren’t real people, take a break if you find yourself getting too attached x

[nameless-jamie]

Hi, your PA series is amazing! Can you write a fic about the team celebrating a big win and some people try to flirt with both PA and Jamie but they are so absorbed by each other they dont even notice other people? And the team notices and starts a bet when they'll stop being idiots amd get together, so Richard decides he wants to win and a couple days later he starts flirting with PA (because I imagine Richard flirting with women is his only way of comunicating with them) so PA is not bothered and thinks 'oh just Richard being Richard', Jamie is so confused he's speechless and the team has a laugh. And afterwhards Jamie shyly tries to find out from PA or Richard what the hell is going on.

Thanks :)

Bet On It

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

TW: cursing, flirting, suggestive language

A/N: Thank you for this awesome request. The bet part is going to be very important to Jamie and PA's story, so thank you for that! Also it is a very long chapter and I've been writing it for ages, I don't wanna spam so I'll schedule it for some day...

The pub is buzzing with energy. AFC Richmond had just secured a massive win, and the entire team, staff, and their closest friends had taken over their usual spot at the Crown & Anchor. Pints were flowing, chants were being sung off-key, and spirits were soaring.

Y/N is there, obviously. Jamie had made a whole thing about how she had to come—something about “ya can’t celebrate a win if ya don’t have the best PA in the league with ya”—so she hadn’t stood a chance.

In the middle of of the bustling chaos celebration, Jamie and Y/N were exactly where they always were—next to each other.

They had claimed a small corner booth, sitting so close their knees brushed under the table. Their drinks sat untouched as they laughed over something ridiculous, because, of course, Jamie had ordered the most absurd drink on the menu: the 'Red Card', which came with a tiny plastic whistle attached to the straw.

Y/N was still giggling as Jamie twirled the whistle between his fingers. “Oi, don't laugh, this is class,” he said, grinning as he took a sip.

“It’s literally just a vodka cranberry with a fancy name,” Y/N teased, shaking her head.

Jamie gasped dramatically. “No, it’s got passionfruit syrup. Proper exotic.”

“Oh wow, passionfruit? That totally justifies the fact that it came with a side of gummy footballs,” Y/N deadpanned, picking up one of the tiny candies.

Jamie smirked, leaning in slightly. Too close, too warm. “Bet ya won’t eat it.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

“‘Cause they’ve been sittin’ in that jar at the bar since the 2014 World Cup,” he said, nodding towards the counter.

Y/N immediately dropped the gummy. “Jamie!” she shrieked, laughing.

Jamie cackled. “See? You need me to keep ya safe.”

“Oh yeah, protecting me from stale candy is really heroic,” she quipped, rolling her eyes.

They were wrapped up in each other, completely oblivious to everything else happening around them. They barely even noticed when Sam and Dani slid into the booth across from them, smirking.

“You two are disgusting,” Sam declared, taking a sip of his beer.

Jamie frowned. “Nah, this drink’s actually well nice. And we didn't even eat the gummies, so.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Sam muttered under his breath, exchanging a knowing look with Dani.

But before Y/N could question it, Keeley and Rebecca waved her over from across the room.

She nudged Jamie’s knee with hers as she stood. “I’m gonna go talk to them for a bit.”

Jamie pouted dramatically. “Oi, don’t be gone too long, yeah?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of pink on her cheeks. “Try not to get another ridiculous drink while I’m gone.”

“No promises,” Jamie called after her, grinning.

And that’s where everything started to spiral a little bit.

The evening kept going on and on. Spirits were high. The music’s loud, drinks are flowing, and Richmond is riding the high of a victory that had the entire stadium on its feet.

Jamie, of course, is loving it.

He’s alone now, perched at a booth near the bar, lounging back like he owns the place, sipping his ridiculous drink. A girl—tall, blonde, very much into footballers—leans against the table, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

“So,” she says, all sultry. “You were incredible tonight. Saw the game on the telly.”

Jamie flashes her a quick, polite smile. “Yeah, I know.”

She laughs, clearly thinking he’s flirting back. "You must be exhausted. You should let someone… take care of you."

Jamie blinks. "What, like a physio?"

She pouts. "Like me."

But Jamie isn’t paying attention anymore, because across the room, Y/N is also getting hit on.

Some guy—tall, good-looking in a finance-bro kind of way—is leaning way too close, grinning down at her like he’s won the lottery.

"So, what do you do at Richmond?" the guy asks, flashing a cocky smile.

"I'm Jamie Tartt's personal assistant," Y/N replies easily, taking a sip of her drink.

The guy raises a brow. "Oh? That must be… exhausting. Bet he has you running around all day."

Y/N smirks. "Yeah, well, he's a handful. But I keep him in check."

Finance-Bro laughs, taking this as an invitation to keep going. "Bet a girl like you deserves a little break. How about I buy you a drink?"

Jamie physically flinches.

The almost-forgotten blonde girl notices. "You alright?"

Jamie waves her off. "Yeah, yeah—hold up, sorry, what'd you say?"

But she’s already gone, rolling her eyes as she walks away.

Jamie doesn’t care.

Because now? He’s glaring at that guy again.

Across the pub, the Richmond boys watched the scene unfold with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

Y/N had returned to the booth after her chat with Keeley and Rebecca, sliding right back into her spot next to Jamie as if drawn by some unspoken gravitational pull. The two were locked in their own little world again—laughing, teasing, Jamie leaning in way too close just to whisper something in her ear that made her swat at his arm with a smile.

It was painfully obvious to everyone watching. Except, of course, to them.

Sam, beer in hand, shook his head in disbelief. “Are they serious?”

Dani sighed dramatically. “So in love and yet, so blind!”

“Unbelievable,” Colin scoffed, arms crossed. “They’re literally flirtin’ with each other every day, but the second a random person tries, they’re suddenly deaf to it?”

The team had just witnessed it firsthand.

Not five minutes ago, some bloke in an expensive-looking jacket had been chatting Y/N up by the bar. She had been polite—maybe even a little amused—but completely unaffected. Meanwhile, across the room, a girl had been twirling her hair and giggling at everything Jamie said, and he hadn’t even noticed. Jamie Tartt hadn't even noticed!

Jamie had barely glanced at her, too busy craning his neck to see if Y/N was coming back.

They were ridiculous.

Jan Maas huffed. “Five quid says they’ll keep doing this for at least another month.”

Isaac perked up. “Oh, we bettin’ now, bruv?”

He immediately stood, cracking his knuckles like this was serious business.

“Alright,” Isaac declared, pointing at Jan Maas. “One month. Jan Maas. Noted.”

Dani grinned. “Two months.”

Colin tapped his chin. “One month. No, wait—three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” Sam echoed. “That’s bold.”

“I’m an optimist,” Colin said, shrugging.

Jan Maas scoffed. “You are a fool. They will never confess because they are cowards.”

Isaac let out a low whistle. “Harsh.”

“I am only honest,” Jan Maas replied.

“Two weeks,” Isaac announced, crossing his arms. “Tops.”

The boys all turned expectantly to Richard.

But Richard just smirked and swirled his wine. “Oh, no. I will simply… speed things along.”

Thierry nudged him. “You’re not betting?”

Richard shrugged, ever the picture of confidence. “Why would I bet when I can guarantee a win?”

The team exchanged wary glances.

They all knew exactly what that meant.

“...Richard,” Sam said cautiously. “What are you planning?”

Richard simply took a leisurely sip of his drink. “You will see. Put me down for one day.”

The rest of the team watched him suspiciously as he glanced over at Y/N and Jamie.

Jamie was currently leaning in close, again whispering something in Y/N’s ear that made her laugh.

Richard smirked. Time to make things interesting.

As expected a day later, Richard makes his move.

It starts at lunch.

Y/N is mid-bite when Richard slides into the seat beside her, all effortless charm and intentional mischief.

"Ah, ma chérie," he croons, reaching for her hand dramatically. “How is it that every time I see you, you grow even more beautiful?”

Y/N barely looks up from her sandwich. "Mmhm. Thanks, Richard."

Undeterred, he tilts his head, smirking. “You know, I have written poetry about women like you.”

Y/N finally looks at him, lips twitching. “Yeah? Lemme guess. ‘There once was a girl from London town…’”

Richard chuckles. “Non, non. More elegant. More… French.”

Jamie, sitting across the table, furrows his brows. His fork is frozen halfway to his mouth as he watches this unfold.

What. The. Fuck.

Richard keeps going. “Ah, you do not believe me? Perhaps I shall recite it for you, oui?”

Y/N laughs, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

Jamie blinks.

Wait. That’s it? That’s all she’s gonna say?

Richard is laying it on thick, calling her ‘ma chérie’ and acting like some French Casanova, and she’s just laughing? Richard can't believe it.

Jamie however shoves a bite of food into his mouth, chewing aggressively.

But it only gets worse.

Later that day, it happens again.

This time, in the locker room.

Y/N is talking to Will when Richard casually drapes an arm around her shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Ah, la plus belle femme du monde,” Richard sighs dreamily. “You must tell me, how is it possible that you are here every day, yet I still lose my breath when I see you?”

Y/N snorts. "Alright, Romeo. How many times have you used that line?"

Richard gasps, clutching his chest. “You wound me, Y/N.”

She pats his cheek. “Aw, you’re such a cutie, Rich.”

Jamie short-circuits. His entire body goes rigid. Because—what the actual fuck?

Did she just call him cute?

Colin, sitting nearby, is already cackling.

Jamie snaps his head toward Sam. “Oi.”

Sam looks up innocently. “Yes?”

Jamie gestures wildly at Y/N and Richard. “The fuck is goin’ on?”

Sam blinks. “What do you mean?”

Jamie waves a hand. "He’s bein’ all… French at her! He don’t usually do that, right?"

Sam shrugs. “Oh, you know Richard. He flirts with everyone.”

“Yeah, but—not her,” Jamie argues. “Like—not this much.”

Sam tilts his head. "Why? Do you have a problem with it?"

Jamie freezes. “What? No. Just weird, innit?”

Sam hums, suppressing a grin. “Interesting.”

Jamie glares. “It’s not.”

Sam just smirks. Because it very much is. And Jamie Tartt?

Jamie Tartt is about to lose his goddamn mind.

Later, in the locker room, Jamie corners Sam, arms crossed, brows furrowed.

"Oi," he says, voice low and serious. "Don't fuck around with me right now. Be honest, Sam. What the fuck is goin’ on with Richard?"

Sam looks up from tying his laces, blinking innocently. "I literally have no idea what you are talking about, Jamie."

Jamie gestures wildly. "He’s obviously flirtin’ with Y/N! Am I fuckin' goin' insane right now or are you lot just blind?"

Sam tilts his head. "And what if he was flirting?"

Jamie lets out a sharp scoff. “What d’you mean ‘what if he was’? That's not okay, right? Like—she's mine��my assistant I mean. And mans is callin' her ‘ma chérie’ and shit.”

Sam barely holds in a laugh.

"It's not fuckin' funneh!" Jamie insists, voice rising slightly.

Sam studies him, amused. "It bothers you. Do something about it."

Jamie opens his mouth—then immediately closes it.

Because the statement was very obvious.

But he can’t just say that.

He scratches the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at Sam. "It don’t. She can do whatever she wants, so yeah."

Sam hums, way too entertained by this. "Right."

Jamie glares. “Fuck you, mate.”

Sam smirks, but says nothing.

Because at this point, Jamie is digging his own grave.

The locker room is nearly empty when Jamie spots Y/N grabbing her bag from the bench. He hesitates, heart racing for reasons he can't fully explain, but he has to do this.

Jamie walks up to her, trying to act casual, but his voice comes out a little more strained than he planned.

"So," he begins, shifting on his feet. "You and Richard, yeah?"

Y/N raises an eyebrow, not quite sure what he’s getting at. "What about me and Richard?" she asks, her tone curious but not overly suspicious.

Jamie scratches the back of his neck. "Y’know… he’s, uh… been flirtin’ with ya."

Y/N lets out a short, surprised laugh, not a bit phased by the whole situation. "Oh, please. That’s just Richard."

Jamie blinks.

"What?"

Y/N shrugs, clearly dismissing the concern as nothing. "Jamie, he’s Richard." Her voice softens, almost like she’s explaining something obvious. "He flirts with everyone, especially me. He’s a flirt. It’s what he does. You’ve known him long enough."

Jamie stares at her, a mix of confusion and relief battling inside him.

So… she doesn’t like him? Richard’s flirtation is just… a thing Richard does?

It’s almost like a weight lifts off his chest, but that weight is immediately replaced by an even heavier, more uncomfortable feeling—one that Jamie can’t quite put a finger on yet. His mind starts to spiral.

“Right.” He rubs his face, trying to come off like it’s no big deal, but Y/N can see through it. She can always see through him.

"Jamie, you okay?" she asks, her voice soft but teasing. She knows he’s not acting like himself.

Jamie glances away quickly, his heart thumping harder than it should. He’s so relieved that he doesn’t have to worry about Richard and Y/N becoming a thing. Still, he’s struggling to make sense of why it felt so wrong when Richard was all over her.

But then his eyes flicker up, and he notices something he hadn't before.

The team.

Standing at the entrance to the locker room. Watching.

Watching him.

These idiots were fucking with him.

He turned back to Y/N. "Yeah, I'm all good. Just Jamie bein' Jamie, yeah?"

Y/N looked at him, now equally confused. "I guess."

"You want to grab a pint?" Jamie said, not letting her answer the question and quickly grabbing her by her wrist. "Alright, c'mon then,"

They walked past the whole team, Y/N wasn't even wondering why they all stood there. Jamie just mouthed a 'Fuck You' towards all of them and pulled Y/N along.

Richard is officially the first to lose the bet.

[emsdevs]

HBD EMMMMMMM🩷🩷🩷 If you’re still taking reqs for the birthday prompts thing, do you mind doing number 19 with Joey B? Thanks love ya🩷🩷

a/n: ahhhh my first fic/blurb for joe!!! thank you so much foe requesting nonnie!! hope you all enjoy!! also be on the look out for a fun little character of mine! iykyk

Prompt 19: "Kiss me." "What-"

Birthday Celly 2025 Masterlist | masterlist

Big events were never really your thing. Unfortunately, they’re just something that comes with fame. Luckily, tonight, you have a couple of very good friends to keep you company. You had met Joe and Jamar at an event quite similar to this one a little less than two years ago, and you’d been close with the duo ever since. 

You were attending this event alone, due to your recent breakup with your now ex-boyfriend. Joe and Jamar were happy to keep you company though, and they were even happier to see you smiling again. It had been pretty rare since the breakup. It meant a lot to them to see you let loose again. You’d been talking to the two of them about this past season when you noticed a familiar face on the other side of the room. 

“I just wish we could’ve seen some more effort from- Hey, are you good?” Joe cuts you off, looking at you with concern in his eyes.

“He’s here,” your voice sounds far away.

“Who’s here?” you vaguely hear Jamar ask you.

“Ellis.”

“Where?” they both start to look around.

“Don’t look! Just,” you turn to Joe, who Ellis was always overly worried about, “kiss me.”

Joe looks shocked. “What-” you cut him off by grabbing his face and kissing him.

You would’ve swore you didn’t like Joe like that, and you’re sure he’d say the same. This kiss, though, is something you won’t get off your mind for quite a while. Your lips molded with Joe’s so perfectly it was like they were made to be pressed against his. It was soft and sweet, yet somehow also tension-filled and a little messy.

“Oh. My god,” you hear Jamar somewhere behind you, and it brings you back to reality. You look over Joe’s shoulder to see Ellis looking distraught. His face was frozen in shock, and his eyes were swimming with the regret he felt for letting you go. For a moment, you almost felt bad as you watched his face turn from shock to sadness, but then you remembered why you broke up with him and sent him a smile before turning back to Joe. 

When your eyes meet Joe’s again, he’s frozen in place, and he hasn’t moved since you kissed him. You share a look with Jamar, who claps loudly in front of Joe’s face. He comes back to reality with a jump from the noise and his face darts toward yours. 

“What was that?” his voice is so loud you end up smacking a hand over his mouth so he doesn’t attract too much attention. 

“What was what, Joe?” you remove your hand from his mouth, letting him speak.

“You can not just kiss me like that and pretend like nothing just happened,” he’s a little breathless when he says it, and you hear Jamar giggling from beside you. You know he’s eating this up.

“I’m sorry. What would you like me to do about it?” you send Joe a smug smile, not entirely opposed to this new tension between the two of you.

“Do it again,” he matches your smile before pulling you in again. Yeah, you’re definitely not mad about this.

taglist: @heartsforjh @irishmanwhore @oceanwater18 @dancerbailey3 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @nadicakes143 @wollgirlie

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[cryptid-killjoy]

Promise him?

Piper wasn't ready for that. Would it be a lie if she promised?

She smiled, nodded, and sealed it with a kiss.

Close enough.

That one might get to her conscious later. Depends how deep she thinks about it. She was told Pierre is Pierre is Pierre in the grand scheme of things. Somehow they're all Pierre. So that was that and she was going to try and stick to it.

After the blaze in the forest a Fate was kind enough to wrap him in a blanket not having thought to bring him clothes. The plan was to take him back home straight away and deal with such things. His reaction however was just so... Pierre.

Zero jumped right up to volunteer. "Oh. Me! Me-me-me." He quickly grabbed up Pierre's hand like it was the most normal thing to do ready to head off anywhere.

Seven had his finger up in the air like he was raising his hand in a classroom when his mother, Lachesis stepped in between them.

"We're all very glad you're back, my dear and I'm sure you're very excited to break that body in as you say."

Clotho interrupted with a little shake of her hips.

"A little horizontal mambo never hurt anybody."

"BUT-" Lachesis glared daggers at Clotho, "-my son's been dead and a momma gets first dibs."

Seven's eyes went to Pierre with a little laugh. "I'll meet up with you a little later. Promise. Enjoy the pup. I will always be good to my momma. Allow me to break you in later."

Clotho kept shaking her hips as all three, Lachesis and Atropos started to head in formation in the same direction back home. Seven was still chuckling about breaking Pierre's body in. He wanted to break his own in too. At this point he had no idea it was a different timeline's Pierre. It looked Pierre to him. No one told him a thing. All Seven knew was he, himself felt good as new like he never died. He felt the same age as when he left. There weren't a lot of differences he could tell straight away. He felt like himself in the body he stole. He was feeling on top of the world and felt high on life, literally.

Lastly, there was Piper. She moved in towards Pierre. It was her responsibility to get Pierre stable and settled in this world, so she wasn't going to go anywhere. She understood the Fates wanting a moment with their lost son after she sprung that one on them out of the blue. It was probably extremely emotional for their family.

"Here." Piper put out her hand too. "Hotel time."

Piper was the only person with the ability to leave the fae circle. She'd pop Pierre and Zero to the inn, but that was just for a starting point. She had her special room there. Then she bounced them out. They left Feral. This Pierre was going to be given choices and freedom, a real life. Piper had it all planned. She had it all charted for him for later.

First, the room. It was already purchased and ready in hopes he said yes and she actually pulled this off.

She did.

So, as it would end up Pierre, Piper, and Zero were in the temporary room. Seven would be ported in later when he finished with his family.

This was Piper so the room was nothing short of luxury. She also stocked it with food for him.

"And there's a laptop. I already got it hooked up to the internet. I put a special charge card number in the drawer of the desk to use to start shopping. I didn't want to do it for you. I only bought a few essentials. Swim trunks in case you want to go down to the pool. Styling products, a little green, hair dryer, um, a couple shirts, pants, but I wanted to leave it to you. Most people like to dress themselves. If you really need a stylist to get started just let me know. Just whatever you need, use that card. Food. Whatever. I'll take care of it until we get you up and running in this life. I wouldn't leave you hanging like that. I'm just glad you're here."

"You get to stay here until you decide where you want to be. We can discuss all that whenever you're ready. Your choices. I figured you might just want to relax tonight."

"OH MY GOD. PIERRE! There's a whirlpool tub in this bathroom. It's as big as a swimming pool! Right here in the room!"

Zero looked between Piper and Pierre. "Sorry was I interrupting something? Seriously, you gotta see this."

This Pierre, in this alternate verse, chose Piper. It was his last night alive, he had an inkling of that, and was choosing to spend it with Piper. A sensuous, sexual, passion-charged night. He was still the Pierre that everyone knew and rolled their eyes at, no matter the universe he still had a wandering eye, but when it counted? He chose Piper.

This Pierre had gone with the Laveaus when his mother and sister had come to confront Phoebus and pick up their stuff. He hadn’t tortured Thomas with hours of trying to justify his decisions. He had still been a pest at the Laveau house, sure, but it wasn’t out of anything bad-natured. That’s just what happens sometimes. But he didn’t make an enemy of himself, the way that the Pierre standing next to Piper right now had.

So all of that could very much have factored into the decision that Piper was going to make very soon.

“I missed you too,” Pierre said, his dark eyes brightening as he looked at her in the dim lighting of the room. “You were always my number one girl, you know that, right? No matter what happened, no matter who I was with, my mind … it always went right back to you.”

Even now, he kept tearing his eyes off of the vision of himself and Piper in that bathtub, and looking back to the real one. And that was damn hard for him. He was never one to turn down free porn.

He moaned, his Adam’s apple bobbing as she was touching him in this enclosed space. It was hard to focus on the plan when she was looking at him like this. Touching him like this. His breath was coming out quicker. Real touch. Not what happened in Hell. But real. Honest. Touch. “Promise me - we’ll have lots of time for this in the future?” He whispered.

He even thought about turning back time to when they got here. Have her here in this closet. He was already hard as a damn rock, just from her touch. Just from hearing himself in that bathtub out there. And from the idea of having life once more.

He let out a small groan into the kiss, his hands on his hips, feeling the dip of her waist before it flared out into that. “You’re bringing me back, how can I say no?”

He never even questioned how this one was going to die. He just saw the lucky fucker in a bathtub. At least he was having a good last day right? And then the thump - thump - thump of heavy footsteps. It sent a shiver up his spine just hearing them coming. He was growing nervous now. He was trying to appear brave, for Piper’s sake but shit, he was still a bit squeamish. He almost wanted to stay in that closet but Piper’s pull brought him out of it and he went running. Jump and slam. Jump and slam. Easy peasy. Like - those stupid football games that Ronno’s dad loved to watch.

And he tried. But the slam was too hard. Too physical. And what he did was slam his way into Delta’s line of fire, and push the other Pierre out of the way, and Piper grabbed him and took him back to the alternate universe. The exact Pierre Renault that everyone knew and loved to hate, was gone in a vomitous, fiery spew.

And now this new Pierre Renault was in this other world, the ends of his hair still damp, naked with a towel, and trying to get his bearings. But his eyes settled mainly on Piper, someone familiar, someone who he had just been with, someone who was now somehow magically dressed. His eyesbrows were furrowed as he ran his fingers nervously through his hair, making no attempt to tighten the towel or cover himself up more. They had talked about this happening but - actually having it happen?

Much like how he had made other decisions that greatly affected his life, though they might not have seemed so monumental at the time, others had too. In this other life, New Orleans hadn’t been wiped out. There weren’t zombies walking around. Hence how the scribbles kept ending up at Delta’s door, there were still plenty of them around. These changes were going to have to be adjusted to, once his mind wrapped around everything.

But one thing that never changed across universes was these were his two dudes. A grin came across his face as he saw them. He was alive. Seven never died in his universe so he was still alive too. He still had his two best guys. “It’s - definitely me,” He said, because in a way, it was. He was him. Pierre Renault.

He looked down at himself and chuckled. “Man, I wish. That sounds so much nicer than what really happens,” He said, a shiver going down his spine as he thought about the way that he would have died if not for Piper’s interfering. It could very well have come from the cold as well. “Dragon fire.”

He took the blankets from mothers with a charming grin, cacooining himself in one. And then because some things never truly change - “Wanna get somewhere warm and give this body a spin?” Which one of them was he talking to? All, of course.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

The Thousand Yard Stare Chapter 3

Summary: Bucky Barnes has served his country well, and at a great personal cost.  After being rescued as a prisoner of war, he is struggling as he gets back into civilian life.  His newfound PTSD is severe.  His friends and family try to help, but he needs a lot more than they can give.  His mother signs him up for a Veteran recovery home, where he meets people struggling just like him, and the home director who has her own dark past to deal with.  He might just find love along the way as he searches for peace.

Warnings: mentions of physical assault, violence, being taken prisoner; sexual assault/r@pe; PTSD/anxiety/depression/panic attacks, flashbacks, nightmares; suicide/minor character death; eventual smut

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Two weeks later Bucky found himself at a bar.  The whole “family,” as Y/N liked to call their ragtag group, had piled into her old truck and gone to the local bar for a monthly karaoke night.  He watched a bunch of strangers get up and sing some popular songs badly as he drank his fourth beer of the night, laughing at the particularly bad ones.  Scott got up and sang “Ain’t No Other Man” with the sass of a teenage girl, Clint sang “Creep” in a way that actually made Bucky emotional, and Pietro had taken it upon himself to shmooze every woman in the bar during his rendition of “Sex on Fire,” singing a little too long to Y/N for Bucky’s liking.  She had just pushed him off with a laugh, but there was a definite blush to her cheeks.  

Bucky knew that his feelings were ridiculous.  She was the home director, one of the people being paid to help him.  He chucked it up to just a crush, something that he would get over eventually.  And yet here he was, glaring at Pietro when he cupped Y/N’s face and sang to her about “hot as a fever” and “I could just taste it.”

“Alright folks, it's almost closing time,” the bar owner, Happy, said on the mic.  There was a chorus of boos and he just smiled and held his hand up for everyone to quiet down.  “But let’s end it on a high note,” he winked, and there was a sudden uproar.  Bucky looked around in slight alarm.  He leaned over to Wanda sitting next to him.  

“What’s happening?” he asked.

“You’ll see,” she answered him, a small smirk on her face.

“Come on, you,” Happy said, looking at Y/N and beckoning her on stage.

“Oh no,” Y/N said, waving her hands in front of her, but quickly the entire bar started chanting things like “Do it!” and yelling her name.  After a moment and with Bruce pushing her she finally stood up and relented, making everyone cheer as she headed towards the stage.

“You always fight it when you know you’re going to do it anyway!” Happy scolded her as she walked up to him.

“Yeah yeah,” Y/N laughed and patted his shoulder as she walked past him to the center of the stage.  “What do y’all wanna hear tonight?” she asked, getting the microphone stand fixed to her height.

The crowd started shouting different things and then Bruce stood up and approached the stage.  She leaned down and he whispered in her ear and she smiled.  As he went to sit back down she stood up and said, “Purple Rain it is.”  There was an applause as Happy got the song loaded on the karaoke machine.  The guitar blared through the speakers and Y/N got herself comfortable on the stool that was on the stage behind her.  Bucky looked at Wanda again, who gave him a wink.

“I never meant to cause you any sorrow…” Y/N started the song, and Bucky’s mouth dropped open.  Wanda snickered next to him, giving Pietro next to her a nudge who laughed at Bucky’s face.  As she kept singing the whole group saw Bucky’s astonishment and all quietly laughed at him.  He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him.  Y/N was a great singer, and he couldn’t stop himself as he leaned forward, his eyes widening.  “Honey I know, I know, I know times are changing!” she sang, a rasp in her voice as the crowd cheered for her even louder.  “It’s time we all reach out for something new that means you, too,” she pointed at Bucky, giving him a wink.  He blushed, his face feeling hot as Pietro reached over and clapped his shoulder.  “...let me guide you to the Purple Rain.  Purple Rain, Purple Rain!”  She got into the feeling of the song, making up harmonies and runs, and as the last few lines started she had the whole bar singing along with her.  

When the final note was sung and the guitar ended everyone in the bar was on their feet, clapping and cheering for Y/N as she set the microphone back on the stand and bowed.  “Thank you!” she said cheerfully, then quickly got off the stage.  She was bombarded by people at different tables congratulating her and complimenting her until she reached their table.  

“Y/N you goddess!” Pietro greeted her first, giving her a hug.

“That was wonderful, honey, thank you,” Bruce said quietly, and she gave him a warm smile.

“Great job,” Wanda said.

When she made it up to Bucky he just stared at her in awe.  “Did you like karaoke Buck?” she asked.

“Loved it,” he said, looking at her like she was brand new.  “You were amazing.  I didn’t know you could sing.”

“Oh well,” she waved away his compliment.  “I’m alright.”

Bucky was going to retort but was interrupted by Happy on the microphone.  “That’s it for tonight folks!  Pay your tabs and drive safe!”  Y/N rounded everyone up and shepherded them out to the truck.  Pietro was sufficiently drunk, Wanda having to hold him up slightly as they lugged him into the backseat.  Wanda, Scott and Clint squished in and sat with him as Bruce and Bucky sat in the front with Y/N.  Even though Bucky was tall and bulky he got the middle seat next to Y/N as she drove.  

“Everyone in?” Y/N asked, taking a look at the back seat.  Pietro snored loudly, making everyone laugh.  “Alright, let’s go.”  It was about a 20 minute drive back to the house, so Bucky tried to get comfortable squished in the middle.  After the fourth time of his elbow bumping into Y/N’s arm she sighed.  “Buck, just put your arm up around me,” she said.  When he hesitated she grabbed his hand and brought it around her shoulders to rest on the seat behind them.  She patted his hand once it was in position and then brought her hand back to the wheel, focusing on the road.

Bucky’s body felt like it was vibrating.  Those four beers were kicking in, and being this close to a girl, particularly a girl that he was crushing on, who was beautiful and kind and funny and apparently a great singer, was not helping.  After a few more tense minutes Bucky shifted in the seat, his knee slightly rubbing against hers.  He turned toward her a bit.  “You were really great up there,” he said quietly, trying not to wake everyone up who had fallen asleep in the back seat.  

Y/N smiled and huffed a laugh.  “Thank you.  I’m alright.”

“Yeah you said that, but seriously,” Bucky said, looking at her.  “You’re amazing.”

Y/N looked at him for a moment, surprised by his genuine tone.  “That’s nice of you, thank you.”  She looked back at the road, a blush on her cheeks.  Bucky smiled at the fact that he was able to make her blush.  “Maybe next time you can get up there and show us your vocal chops?” she asked, giving him a teasing smile.

“I don’t know about that,” Bucky laughed.  “I’m no you.”

“Can’t be any worse than Scott,” she joked.  Bucky snorted, trying to keep his laugh quiet, and she laughed with him.  

They reached the house and she parked the truck. Bucky helped get Pietro inside as everyone else yawned and slowly trudged to their rooms.  Once Y/N made sure everyone was inside and safe she locked the house up and went upstairs.  Bucky was getting Pietro laid down on his bed as she checked his room.  “You good, Buck?” she whispered.

Bucky ducked Pietro’s arm that tried to hold him close, another rough snore making Y/N cover her mouth to stop from laughing.  Bucky gave her a wide-eyed stare that made her snicker and she quickly moved away from Pietro’s room so he wouldn’t hear her laughing.  Bucky snorted again and walked out of the room, closing the door behind himself.  “I don’t wanna be his cuddle buddy, sorry,” Bucky whispered.

Y/N covered her whole face as she tried not to burst out laughing.  Bucky laughed quietly with her as they moved toward their respective rooms.  Once she had control of herself and calmed down she looked at him with her bright smile.  “That’s too bad.  He is quite good at cuddling, not gonna lie,” she said.

This made Bucky bristle.  She obviously had been physically close with each of them at some point.  He gave her a tight smile.  “I’m sure,” he said flatly.

Y/N gave him an odd look.  “I guess I shouldn’t have told you that.  I’m not a therapist, technically, but shouldn’t be talking about other people’s sessions with me,” she said sheepishly.

Bucky shrugged.  “Well, goodnight,” he said.

“Goodnight Bucky.  I really hope you had fun tonight,” she said, stepping toward him.

“I did, thanks,” Bucky nodded, not able to stay upset with her.

“Good,” Y/N nodded.  They sat there staring at each other for another minute.  Bucky couldn’t get a read on her, and then she blinked and shook her head, giving him a quick smile.  “See you tomorrow.”

“Sleep well,” Bucky said, watching her leave.

“You first,” she teased, then disappeared into her room.

***

Bucky’s nightmares weren’t as frequent anymore.  He still had them, but instead of waking up screaming he was able to jerk awake and remind himself it wasn’t real, it wasn’t happening right then, that he was safe.  If he did make any noises Teddy and Y/N would be right there to help ground him back to the present.  As the months went by he could feel himself getting better, slowly but surely.  Dr. Strange had been a huge success with him so far, especially after opening up about his assault, and he craved his cuddle sessions with Y/N every week, reveling in having her close, even in a “professional” setting.  He was in deep denial about his feelings toward her, trying to focus on the reason he was there, and yet his dreams very quickly turned to her on those good nights.  And if his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him, he could have sworn that he had seen her give him long glances and hungry looks here and there, her hugs more affectionate or their cuddle sessions feeling more personal at times.  

The holidays were coming up.  Y/N went all out for Halloween, the whole house decorated in pumpkins and garlands and autumn leaves.  She was in full swing with the holiday season, which in her words was September through December.  She baked and cooked every Autumn goodie she could think of, and dragged everyone along with her to go to the local Autumn festivals.  Bucky loved watching her get excited over things like this, and happily helped her decorate, cook and bake whatever she was wanting.

As Thanksgiving approached she had invited all of the veteran’s families to come attend a family gathering dinner at the home.  Bucky’s parents as well as Steve and Sam were invited and they all agreed to come.  On Thanksgiving day Bucky hugged each of them for a long time, missing them while he’d been away.

“You look well rested,” George said.  “Sleeping better?”

“Mostly,” Bucky said.  “It’s been getting better.”

“Good,” George smiled.

Steve and Sam went out back with him as they all played a short game of basketball.  “You look good, man,” Sam said as he took a shot.  “Not as grumpy.”

“Fuck off,” Bucky laughed at him as he dribbled the ball.  

“No you do,” Steve agreed.  “This place has been good for you.”  Steve looked hopeful as Bucky took a shot and made it.  “Or maybe a certain someone has been good for you,” he teased, grabbing the ball.

“What?” Bucky asked, looking confused.

“Yeah,” Sam laughed.  “I think I’d be looking pretty good if someone like that was cuddling with me on a weekly basis,” he joked, gesturing toward the house.

“Oh come on, dude,” Bucky groaned.  “That’s her job is to help me.”

“Sure,” Sam said.  “So you have no feelings whatsoever?”

“I–” Bucky started.

“Hey Buck?” Y/N’s voice called out from the porch.

“Yeah?” his head whipped around, focusing solely on her.  Sam and Steve snickered behind him.

“Could you help me with something?” she asked, looking frustrated.

“Yeah sure!” Bucky said, jogging toward the house.  As she turned back inside he turned towards the guys and flipped them off, making them laugh harder.  

The dinner was perfect.  Everyone’s families had come and the house was much noisier than usual.  Wanda looked much more relaxed with her mother there, and Pietro was much more well-behaved.  Clint seemed less jittery as his wife and kids talked with him, using sign language with him as best as they could to practice.  Scott was definitely the most flamboyant one out of his family, the rest of them seeming content to just quietly speak to each other.  Bruce only had his partner Tony and their dog Jarvis, and he smiled more than Bucky had ever seen.  He realized halfway through dinner that Y/N didn’t have anyone.  She was perfectly happy talking to everyone around her, engaging in conversation easily with each person and being the perfect hostess, but she had no family or friends outside of the home show up.  As happy as Bucky was to see his family and friends, he was heartbroken for her to not have anyone.

After dinner was cleaned up and the families all packed up and left with many tearful goodbyes, Bucky found Y/N in the backyard with Teddy who was running around burning off some energy.  She was walking towards the greenhouse in the back lot and Bucky followed her.  She was slowly walking along the rows of plants and flowers, examining them and watering a few here and there as he walked into the greenhouse.

“Y/N?” he said.  She looked back at him and gave him a small smile.  “You okay?” he asked, walking towards her.

“Yeah,” she said, looking confused.  “Why?”

“Well, everyone had family show up today but you,” Bucky observed, watching her carefully.

Y/N had a brief look of grief wash over her face before she quickly schooled her features.  “Oh, well, I’m seeing them tomorrow,” she said, focusing back on the flowers closest to her.

“Oh, okay,” Bucky said, but something in her expression made him not fully believe her.  “Well as long as you’ll be seeing them sometime soon, right?”

“Right,” she breathed.  Teddy whined up at her and she quickly smiled and scratched his head.  “Hey, um, I’m going to be gone most of the day tomorrow, but I’ll be back in time for our session, okay?”  

“Yeah sure,” Bucky agreed.  “Take your time.”

Y/N put down the water can and turned to him suddenly.  “Can I have a hug?”

Bucky blinked at her in surprise then smirked.  “Can’t wait for one of my hugs till tomorrow, huh?”

“No,” Y/N replied seriously.

Bucky’s smirk fell and he nodded.  He opened his arms and she stepped into them, squeezing him tight.  He rubbed her back softly, resting his head on top of hers.  “You never need to ask,” he whispered into her hair.  “I’ve got you.”

Y/N sighed against him and after another minute of holding each other she slowly pulled away.  “Thank you,” she breathed.  She gave him a long look, then walked around him and out the greenhouse.

Bucky watched her leave, letting her have her space before going back to the house himself.

@wintrsoldrluvr @isitbiorisitlesbian @starfly-nicole @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @buckys-arm-and-rios-dagger

[27spoons]

Under The Influence | Vanessa Palmer

pairing: vanessa palmer/reader

request: van taking care of the reader after drinking too much and the reader embarrassed herself saying how pretty they are or that she wants to be more then friends (@modernvenuss)

wc: 1820

warnings: intoxication (reader), alluding to throwing up but nothing described, fluff at the end i promise, not proofread we die like coach ben's leg

a/n: i'm assuming this was young van since it wasn't specified 😭if i am wrong i am so sorry

"Oooooooookay." As you lean on her shoulder to support yourself, Van laughs, " Someone has had too many beers."

"I have not." You say, definitely not slurring your words in the slightest. "I just had… like… a few pulls from the keg…" A small hiccup and giggle follow your words, and then a sheepish grin splits across your features.

Van rolls her eyes as she grabs the car keys from your pocket and unlocks it, "Right… and what is your definition of 'a few'? Five? Six? Ten?" She laughs, "I thought you were good at math."

"I am," leaves your lips in a grumble. "I'm really good at math."

"Right." Van agrees as she unlocks the door to your mom's Toyota, "I think these AP Precalculus classes aren't doing you any good. I would, personally, reconsider attending them if they aren't doing you any good." The passenger side door opens up, and she ushers you into the seat, clicking your seatbelt into place despite your protests.

"Vaaaaaaaaaaan." You whine petulantly as she closes the door, leaving you alone in the car for a few seconds. She moves to the driver's seat, sticking the keys in the ignition and bringing the car to life. "C'mon. Just a little while longer. I heard Jackie talking about—"

"Nope." Van cuts you off, popping the 'p,' "We are leaving."

"Where are we going?" You continue to whine, glancing over at the redhead with what you hope is the equivalent of puppy-dog eyes.

She can't fight the grin that appears on her face, and her voice shifts slightly, "The Fourth World. It's sort of like Heaven, only better, because there aren't any Christians. It's an absolute paradise of music, art and pure enjoyment."

You stare at her deadpan. "Did you just quote Heavenly Creatures to me?"

A laugh spills from her mouth as the car slides into gear, pulling away from the curb. "Oh, so you aren't drunk enough to walk, but you're drunk enough to remember lines from a movie?"

"A movie that you've made me watch, like, ten times!" You grumble, throwing your arms up in frustration, which is honestly just a result of you being drunk more than anything else. "So it's… like… your fault, or whatever." 

"You did not have to watch it with me, but you did. So, you're at fault here." She grins, clearly proud of herself. "But, just so you know, I'm taking you back home. So you can pass out on your bed instead of the front lawn of the Taylor's house." Van glances at you once the car reaches a stop sign and nudges your shoulder gently before returning her hand to the wheel, "You're gonna thank me in the morning."

You grumble out something similar to a curse—which earns you an eye roll—and you rest your head against the window, looking at the houses that pass by in the night.

At some point during the drive, you roll your window down, a soft exhale leaving your lips as the night air washes over your face. It's warm out, but not warm enough that it's uncomfortable. You close your eyes and let the feeling of the wind against your face lull you into some state of soberness, and you don't even notice the words leaving your lips as they do. "I really like you, Van." You mumble out so quietly you're almost positive the words are just bouncing around your head rather than being spoken out loud. "Like… a lot. You're always there for me when I need you, and you're really pretty." A soft sigh leaves your lips, and you feel the bumps in the road start to soothe you into a state of unconsciousness. "Sometimes I wish we were more than friends."

The next little while is a blur.

You vaguely remember Van helping you out of the car and into your house, and you swear she said something important to you after helping remove your shoes, but you can't remember what it was for the life of you.

The morning comes with a thundering headache and nausea that makes you feel like you'd rather be dead.

Maybe you did have a few too many beers last night. Whoops.

You nearly fall off your bed in an attempt to get up, scowling slightly when you realise you're still in last night's clothes. "Fuck me," comes out of your mouth with a wave of stale beer and… cigarettes? You don't even smoke. What the hell were you doing last night?

All sticky and gross, you manage to stumble out of your bedroom and into the hallway, making a beeline for the bathroom. You don't even bother flicking the lightswitch on as you fall to your knees in front of the toilet and—

Well, I'm sure you're quite aware of what you did. 

At some point, you hear a gentle murmur from the door and feel someone rest their hand on your upper back, earning a soft groan from you in response to the sudden presence. As you slowly blink yourself back into existence, you glance away from the toilet and come face-to-face with a very blurry… Van?

"Y're still here?" You mumble out, exhausted and hungover, "Why didn' y'go home?" 

"'cus I didn't have anyone to drive me there. I can't steal your mom's car; she'd kill me." Van rolls her eyes and cleans your face up with a handtowel, "Because I knew you were gonna be hungover, and I didn't want to leave you alone in the morning. Your parents are still on vacation." 

You make a small sound at that—one that you aren't quite sure what it's supposed to convey—and rest your head back on your arm with a grunt. "I wanna die."

Van scoffs, "Yeah, I grabbed some Tylenol from the medicine cabinet when I heard you in here. You can take it when you stop throwing up." She gently wipes some sweat from your forehead, and your eyes fall closed at the tender action.

You lay with your head on the toilet seat for about another ten minutes before Van decides you aren't about to throw up again anytime soon and moves you back to your bedroom, giving you some fresh clothes to wear before stepping out of your room to let you change.

She returns with a knock five minutes later, peeking her head into the room with a bottle of water and a bowl of apple sauce. "Don't know how much you can keep down right now, so… this will have to do. I'm pretty sure this apple sauce was expired, but it's… probably fine." Van grins at you, and you genuinely can't tell if she's joking or not as she takes a seat on the side of your bed. "Also got you some painkillers for your head." She places the water bottle on your nightstand and grabs the pill container from her pocket, "Hoping you can keep them down."

You smile at her gratefully, taking the apple sauce from her hands. "I… uh… shit. I feel like I owe you something."

"Three pennies and a ball o' lint, kiiiddd." She grins wide, all teeth. "Nah, you don't owe me anything. I got to crash on your couch last night and not deal with my mom, so… I think that debt is already paid." A beat, "Oh! I also stole some Fruit by the Foot. Sorry." But you both know she's far from sorry.

A quiet chuckle leaves your mouth, which causes you to wince in pain at the throbbing in your head. Van, ever the angel, takes two pills from the bottle and passes it to you alongside the water. 

An awkward silence follows you swallowing down the pills, and you aren't quite sure why Van can't meet your eyes until she breaks that tense air that surrounds you. "So, uh… just outta curiosity, how much do you remember from last night?" 

You blink a few times and exhale softly through your nose, "I… uh…" 

Your eyes go wide.

"Oh, shit, Van, I didn't mean it—I mean, I did, but I also didn't mean to say it like that—" A frustrated groan parts from your lips, and you let your head fall back against the pillow behind you. "I'm sorry."

There's a long moment of silence, and you start to worry that you've crossed a line last night, already cursing yourself for ruining a friendship that you've had for years—

She's laughing.

Van is laughing.

Loud and boisterous like she usually does, hand pressed to her stomach as she leans forward. "Oh, shit. You meant it." She keeps laughing, and you honestly aren't quite sure what to do at this point. Yes, her laughter is starting to hurt your head, but it's also nice to hear her laugh, so you don't stop it. Which is probably a mistake, considering you've listened to her laugh for what you're pretty sure was an hour straight before, but whatever. 

Van takes a breath, her grin softening. She reaches out and rests her hand on yours, her fingers warm and steady. "Listen," she starts, her tone gentler than usual. "I laughed because it caught me off guard, not 'cause I don't feel the same."

You swear your heart stutters for a moment, and you feel wide awake despite being dead tired moments ago. "Wait… what?"

She shrugs, "I mean, yeah, you’re pretty great. Always have been. And you’re not bad to look at—when you’re not puking your guts out." She smirks, but there’s a blush creeping up her cheeks. "I just didn’t think you’d... you know, feel that way."

"I didn’t think you would, either," you admit quietly, glancing down at the point where her hand rests on yours, "You’re always so... confident, Van. I figured you were way out of my league."

"We're best friends, idiot." Van rolls her eyes, her grin resurfacing. "So, by default, that makes us in the same league, actually." A beat, that grin softening again, a warmth appearing in her eyes you've only ever seen a small handful of times before. "So, what do you say? Once you’re not hungover and smelling like a brewery, maybe we... see where this goes?" She gently squeezes your hand to prove her point.

You laugh, the sound scratchy but genuine. "I’d like that. But you better bring me more Fruit by the Foot. I think my brother is gonna kill you when he gets back with my parents."

"Deal, and I'll deal with your brother. He's twelve. Not that hard to beat up." Van grins, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off her jeans. "Now, drink that water, finish your expired applesauce, and let me figure out how to fake a doctor’s note to get us out of school tomorrow."

"Why do you even know how to do that?"

She winks. "Because I’m awesome. And now, apparently, I’m yours."

a/n: crush a2c5 next trust