#pure bribery

[sataniccapitalist]

The plaintiff in Snyder v United States is claiming that when a public official accepts a “gift” from a person or corporation who has benefited from that public official’s actions, that should not be legally considered a bribe

[justablognothingweirdhere]

There is just something so insane and romantic about Carter (who is dating Luka’s ex girlfriend and can barely have a civil conversation with the man) losing his shit and immediately booking it to goddamn Africa on the off chance that he might be able to find Luka’s body, and then actually doing it basically through sheer willpower and dumb luck.

[vrystalius]

Weird petnames for the Squid Game men.

How will they react? What kind of petnames do they give you?

Pairing: Recruiter, Thanos, Nam-gyu, Dae-ho, Gi-hun, In-ho x fem!reader

Summary: You giving them (three) stupid petnames, them giving you three

Genre: Pure fluff!

Note: This was a request by anon but I totally forgot to include it in this post! I hope you see this, anon!!

(Here are some HCs for them as dads and some pregnancy HCs if you’re interested!)

Gong Yoo // The Recruiter // The Salesman

You — him -> Monopoly man.

This nickname came to be after having multiple arguments over how that smug man kept buying up all the streets on the Monopoly board game with money he seemingly pulled out of his ass. You firmly believe that he cheated, you can’t prove it though.

That’s why you started calling him Monopoly man from time to time, since he is such a god at the board game.

You — him -> Sugar daddy.

It’s on the nose and an easy way to fluster your husband, even if it’s briefly. He likes sponsoring your shopping trips and buy you whatever else you ask him to. He enjoys making you happy and prove to you that he can provide for you for the rest of your shared life and so you deem the petname Sugar daddy appropriate.

It makes him chuckle under his breath to conceal his flustered expression. His cheeks briefly turn red as he stumbles over his words, handing you another hefty sum of money to silence your teasing words. You could call it a bribery.

“Just take this and go darling.”

You — him -> Origami prince.

You keep catching him making Dakji in his free time for some reason, but if you’re lucky, you can find him fold up a family of swans or a small bouquet of differently coloured flowers. You don’t really get his obsession with that childhood game but you like to cuddle onto him and rest your legs over his lap while he makes you a bouquet of paper roses.

His fingers work quickly and smoothly without any mistakes. It’s kind of sexy to be honest.

Is it weird to get turned on by how he he folds paper? Everything that man does somehow becomes sexy.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳༚

Him — you -> Jackpot.

He sees you as a jackpot, a one in a million chance. Your husband considers himself extremely lucky to having found someone special and perfect like you. He sometimes jokes about how all his luck was used on you and that winning the lottery is going to be impossible (which he always knew is basically impossible to win but anyways).

Him — you -> Little devil.

You mess with his heartstrings and cloud his judgement, for better or worse. Almost like a little devil.

You also cause him a lot of trouble when it comes to worrying about you and your safety, his heart racing when you don’t text him back immediately. Again, messing with his poor heart.

Him — you -> Cherry blossom.

He saw how beautifully the cherry trees blossom during spring in Japan while watching a documentary with you one evening. The petals are fragile, soft, a beautiful pink. You kind of remind him of those small petals.

Su-bong // Thanos // Player 230

You — him -> Thanosaurus-rex

Thanos totally loves that petname. It sounds badass, intimidating even, but to you it’s more of an endearing and cutesy petname. He is strong and is intelligent if he tries, but most of the time, he’s a mushy and soft mess in your arms as you work your magic fingers through his hair.

He thinks you find him super awesome after you called him that nickname, but you use that petname ironically.

“WOMAN, C‘MERE!! Your Thanosaurus wants a well-deserved kiss!!“

You — him -> Galactic snuggle monster

It’s an accurate description. His title, Thanos, was stolen from a galactic titan and your boyfriend happens to be very snuggly and cuddly. His favourite activity is to either bedrot in your arms or drag you out to a random gig he aquired.

He prefers to act as your blanket though and completely crush you under his body. In a pleasant way of course.

You — him -> Bing bong

Bing bong is the best way to use his goverment name without making him think he’s about to get scolded by his mother. Su-bong sounds so serious, almost foreign, but Bing bong sounds stupid and makes him grin a little.

You saved him in your contacts as Bing-bong and used to use it as a codeword to talk to your friends about your boyfriend without revealing who he is during the first few weeks of your relationship.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳༚

Him — you -> Sprite.

Thanos was probably high the first time he called you that. He really, really craved a sprite while being on a call with you and you thought your boyfriend was calling you a soda. Your boyfriend liked the tone of it so he calls you his soda, Sprite, Spritey or Spriiiiiiiiiitttaaaaaaaaa.

Him — you -> Chili pepper.

He likes annoying and fucking with you just for the fun of it but acts all innocent after you show some slight annoyance. In response, Thanos calls you his spicy chili pepper which annoys you even more in return because he cannot take anything seriously, ever.

Him — you -> Thanos’s star.

When he uses that petname it’s probably to introduce you to someone else, referring to himself in third person and introducing you as his star, which you are. You are his star, sun, the center of his galaxy. His mind and feelings always circle around you.

Nam-gyu // Player 124

You — him -> Rat

You like calling him a rat (sometimes even a wet one) because, well, he is. Nam-gyu hoards his snacks and hides them from you, his facial structure is very rat-like, his apartment was a rat’s nest when you first moved in and after he showers, his wet hair matches that of a wet rat. Your boyfriend doesn’t like that petname at all.

Whenever you cook some dinner and Nam-gyu comes up from behind, he sometimes gives you tips to how to not burn his apartment down. Like a certain rat chef you know.

You — him -> Nom-Nom / Nam-Nam

You like chewing on his fingers sometimes, they’re quite nice to nibble and chew on. Nam-gyu didn’t like it at first, eying you from the side in confusing and slight disgust but eventually warmed up to it and even gave you his hand willingly to let you chew on his finger while he orders some take-out on his phone.

He even began getting his rings off his hands before offering you your favourite chewing toy.

You — him -> Lizard

Similar to the rat pet name, you sometimes call him a Lizard or the Lizard-man. Your boyfriend likes being called a lizard even less than being called a rat. Why do you keep giving him stupid petnames? You’re embarrassing him in front of his friends!

“Stop calling me that in public, c’mon. Sounds stupid.”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳༚

Him — you -> Turtle.

Not sure where he got that from but Nam-gyu just started calling you that one day and that nickname stuck to him ever since. It has no great backstory other than you remind him of a turtle when you steal all the blankets in the house and build yourself a makeshift nest on your bed.

The mountain of blankets remind him of the shell of a turtle. Besides, your hear sticking out doesn’t help the image.

Him — you -> Kitty.

Your boyfriend likes to “pspspsps”-you to get your attention. You perk up just like a cat when he foes that. Besides, if you call him a rat, he will call you a kitty. He‘ll sometimes even purr at you when you look especially good that day.

Him — you -> Wifey.

Even though you two aren‘t married, Nam-gyu really likes the idea of you being his wife. „Wife“ sounds very serious though— it sounds like tax benefits and a house with two kids and all that. He‘s not ready for that commitment just yet, so your boyfriend will call you his Wifey instead.

He always refers to you as his Wifey in front of his friends and others so that they know that his heart is yours, as much as yours is his.

Dae-ho // Player 388

You — him -> The nibbler.

The “The” is for dramatic effect. Dae-ho is obsessed with biting and nibbling any area of your body that seems convenient enough in the moment to chomp on. His favorite area is your nose, jaw, shoulder, fingers and hands. It‘s pretty random but does it most of the time when nervous about something or sleepy and in your arms.

The nibbler likes his nickname a lot, by the way. He sometimes jokes about you being his favorite chewing toy or candy while you eye the bite mark he left on your arm.

You — him -> (chicken) nugget.

To you, your boyfriend is just a cutie patootie, a mature man that has the heart of a golden retriever. You like calling him your chicken nugget because of how his facial structure kinda reminds you one. Dae-ho gets flustered whenever you call him that though.

Nugget is the shorter version of a petname you like to use, mostly in public or during texts. Chicken nugget you like to use when you two are together at home or to tease him.

You — him -> Bunny.

You first wanted to use Tiger as a petname since part of his name means Tiger, but you actually found out how much of a Bunny he actually is. He doesn’t like being left alone and on his own for too long, when he pouts he looks like one, the color of his blush looks like the nose of one and he certainly has the sex drive of one.

Being called Bunny makes him both embarrassed and flustered. He both hates and loves that petname you gave him.

“Isn‘t Bunny too cute of a name for me? Like.. it doesn't really fit, does it?“

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳༚

Him — you -> Cupid.

You shot an arrow through his heart the moment he saw and met you for the first time. Even if the name isn‘t 100% accurate since with that logic you would‘ve also shot yourself with an arrow to fall for him too, but Dae-ho likes calling you his cupid.

Him — you -> Tiger.

It‘s a play on his name and how maybe when you two marry in the future you can share part of it with him. Once he scraps the damn money together to buy you a proper ring and maybe save a little money for a nice wedding and honeymoon.

Maybe Dae-ho should give the card he got from that weird salesman a call and participate in these games for money. What could go wrong?

Him — you -> Tofu.

Since he is your personal nibbler, you are his tofu. That way he can justify his need to bite and nibble on you.

Gi-hun // Player 456

You — him -> Heartbreaker.

You playfully call him that. Gi-hun is a little insecure about his age, his divorce, his whole life too, and how much younger and naive you are, thinking a lot about how he is not the most suitable lover for a young woman like you.

You like calling him a heartbreaker in a ironic way almost. You find it cute how he huffs when you call him that.

You — him -> Raccoon.

In the most respectful way possible, you sometimes think that Gi-hun looks like a raccoon. His hair is so fluffy like fur, his eyes get so big when you scold him for something and you sometimes catch him digging through an old pile of dirty clothes to find to wear, like a raccoon digging through trash.

You sigh everytime you go into the kitchen and catch your boyfriend dig through the fridge, trying to find something that isn‘t expired and doesn‘t need to be cooked into a meal.

You love your raccoon of a man, though. Although you have to admit that sometimes he resembles more of a hamster the way his cheeks fill up with food so adorably.

You — him -> Noodle.

His build is is flimsy and he resembles a spaghetti noodle. You like calling him your noodle, it‘s cute, short and endearing. Gi-hun thinks calling him a noodle is a little childish but he would never reject your petnames.

„Seriously? Noodle? Y‘know, other women call their boyfriends honey and stuff. Noodle sounds like an insult!“

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳༚

Him — you -> Angel.

You are his angel, his savior, his saint and light. It‘s only fitting to call you his angel. Even if he mostly addresses you that way when he is about to ask you for a little bit of money to afford the groceries his mother send him out to get.

He gambled the money his mom gave him away and bet on horses, but you don‘t have to know that.

Him — you -> Koala.

Gi-hun grins like a Highschool boy whenever you cling onto him like a cute koala for cuddles. That‘s where he got the name from in the first place.

Him — you -> Peanut.

Random but cute nonetheless. He likes to pull on your cheek and coo at you and how adorable you look when you pout or are annoyed. To annoy you even further, he calls you a cute little peanut.

In-ho // The Frontman // Player 001

You — him -> In-ho-tato.

Back when you first met him, In-ho liked to style his hair slicked back and containing multiple ounces of hairgel. The way his hair was styled and his grumpy facial expression made him look a potato of sorts.

Calling him a potato outright might confuse him or even make him a little upset, so you call him In-ho-tato. That‘s how you saved him in your contacts too. He doesn‘t know the origin of the petname but it has a nice ring to it, so your husband doesn‘t mind.

“You‘re quite creative with your words. Care to explain their origins?“

You — him -> Gramps.

You call him Gramps whenever he struggles with something. Can‘t open a jar of pickles? Old man. Complains about back pain after waking up? Gramps. Gets annoyed with one of his pink guards? Grandpa.

In-ho hates it. He glares at you from the side every time you call him those things. Your husband never stops you though, as long as you‘re having fun.

You — him -> Huffster.

You began to notice how many times and how much he groans, huffs and sighs when he‘s at work. It‘s mostly under the mask but you notice it anyway. When his mask is off, massaging his temple and bridge of his nose goes hand in hand with letting out an exhausted sigh at the incompetence of the players of this year‘s games.

Naturally, want to make him feel better whenever In-ho feels stressed or exhausted and for some reason calling him a huffster makes him give you a small, fond smile. Your husband never being here simply makes everything better.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳༚

Him — you -> Snuggle tyrant.

You are a very demanding tyrant when it comes to cuddles. You drag him out of his study or control center just to have him all for yourself in bed. A little selfish, isn‘t it? True tyranny to give him orders like that.

Him — you -> Boss lady.

Sure In-ho is the Frontman and all but you are still his boss in a way. You remind him to drink, sleep, eat, give him orders to rest for the night and to shave every once in a while. You are his boss lady, so the petname is very fitting.

Also, the workers and soldiers also see as some kind of boss of their boss. Thanks to you, multiple of their lives were saved by you scolding the Frontman in the middle of the control center, reminding him to be a little more lenient and merciful for breaking rules.

Him — you -> Sugar baby.

It‘s rather self explanatory. In-ho likes to refer to you as his sugar baby by the way he throws his money at you whenever you even look at an item. He is more than happy to sponsor you with a new helicopter to reach the mainland, a new credit card to spend on online shopping and whatever else you want.

Even if you aren‘t his full time sugar baby, he likes to treat you like one.

💠

Author‘s note. Thank you for reading!

First of all, thank you for giving my last Squid Game men post so much love!! It got like 1000 notes in two days, so thank you <33 Also, I really want to show my private art again. I haven‘t done that since I had 200 followers, so like last September was my last art dump. I‘m really into creating clay figures and painting masks, so I‘m not sure if you all would be into that. On one side, some people may just be here for the fics and get annoyed if I don‘t post that but on the other are people who may be genuinely interested :,)

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <33 Stay safe!

[pumpkin-padparadscha]

moshang soulmate au where sqh never wrote mbj a soulmate so when he transmigrated with a soulmark that obviously represents mbj he assumes it's a one sided bond and keeps it hidden bc he doesn't want mbj to pity him or assume he has expectations or ulterior motives,

meanwhile mbj has no idea wtf the airplane shaped soulmark he has could possibly mean but he knows he has to keep it a secret bc its a potential weakness

so he deliberately acts like he doesn't have a soulmate and avoids psychics and plants that could help him locate his soulmate bc if he knew who it was he isn't sure he could stay away

for maximum drama at some point mbj gets poisoned by something where the cure is the blood of your soulmate willingly given and whoever did it is sure this will be a successful assassination bc its common knowledge that mbj doesn't have a soulmate

and mbj is also sure he's going to die bc even if he could find the identity of his soulmate in the very limited time he has left (unlikely) his teleporting powers are already unreliable (effect of poison) and he isn't sure he could get them to willingly give him what he needs anyway

the cure won't work if there's blackmail or bribery involved it has to be pure intentioned or whatever and mbj has self esteem issues tbh

so mbj is sulking about this or whatever and sqh is like "my king forgive me" and slices his palm open and holds his hand over mbjs mouth

and mbj gets to go from wtf to WTF ITS WORKING and how long has sqh known (how long has sqh been KEEPING THIS FROM HIM years of such a secret/lie for what!!! is he that undesirable???)

so he is freaking out and pissed bc "why would you let me dishonour myself by treating my soulmate like a mere servant" or whatever and sqh is very "I didn't want to burden you my king so really we can just pretend this never happened"

and mbj is hashtag coping with a lot of feelings and desperately wants a distraction (or for the world to start making sense even though this revelation makes SO MUCH SENSE) and he asks sqh abt what his weird ass mark shape means +shows it to him

and sqh is now ALSO freaking out bc 1. really? a reference to his handle? what did he do to deserve this and 2. MY KING YOU HAVE A SOULMATE?

then u get the whole "YOURE my soulmate" "obviously I'm your soulmate but I'm your soulmate!?!" and an explanation about one sided bonds (very tragic, mbj feels WORSE knowing what sqh was thinking for years)

for extra pizzazz add in an immediate proposal and "you don't have to marry me just because I'm your soulmate + in love with you" speech where mbj learns that sqh also 1. is in love with him and 2. believes it to be a one sided state of affairs

...the doctor would love for this not to be happening bc it would be really awkward to interrupt and check on how the cure is doing but that's kind of her job

[dreamwritesimagines]

Declassified [13] - Barbecue

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves, you are so amazing🩷

Friendly reminder that I will be on vacation in July, so I won't have access to my laptop🩷 We will have the next chapter around August 1-2 but my headcanons and asks and everything else is open as usual! 🩷 So please let me know what you think, and I hope you like this chapter! 🩷

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: Anything can happen at a barbecue.

Warnings: Explicit language, adult themes, MDNI.

Word Count: 6.6k

Series Masterlist

A short white sundress wasn’t exactly professional but then again, everyone else in the team was going to show up in casual clothes anyway.

Even you had to admit, this was a good PR move. Having a barbecue party at his place surrounded by his team and his family –Wilsons— not only sounded fun but also would show the rest of the world that he wasn’t affected by his breakup, and business was as usual.

So technically, the sundress was purely because of PR reasons and not because you wanted him to think you were pretty.

 Technically being the key word.

You fixed your hair and your dress as much as you could with one hand while holding a stack of files and a box of cookies in the other, then knocked on his door and stepped back. Excitement was rushing through your system already, and you took a deep breath to calm yourself down, then looked up as the door opened.

“So I know I came a little early and brought work but the alternative was for me to work in the middle of the barbecue which is like not ideal in terms of PR, so I also brought cookies.”

Bucky looked frozen as he eyed you up and down, his mouth slightly open and you tilted your head in confusion.

“Bucky?”

His eyes whipped to yours and he shook his head as if trying to snap out of the daze he was in, then immediately got the files and the box of cookies from your hands.

“Hey,” he said. “Uh—come in!”

You stepped inside and smiled at Alpine who had run to the hallway to see what was happening.

“Hello my pretty princess!” you cooed, crouching down so that you could pet her. She purred, bumping her head against your hand before she closed her eyes while you ran your fingers through her soft fur.

“I still cannot believe she lets you pet her.”

“She likes me,” you said. “Don’t you Alpine?”

Her answer was rubbing her face against your hand and you scratched at her head, then stood up again to look around. This was bigger than his earlier place which you figured was normal for a Congressman, but it still had Bucky’s characteristics scattered around. His old pictures with The Howling Commandos as well as with Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson were framed on the walls, and as you passed by the living room, you could see his records and phonogram at the corner. You followed him to the kitchen, eyeing his muscular body hungrily, biting at your lip.

How did this man look good both in a suit and casual clothes?

“So.” He pulled you out of your daze as he placed the files and cookies on the kitchen island. “You shouldn’t have.”

“I mean.” You plopped down the stool. “It’s not like I baked them. I don’t want to poison you or the rest of the team.”

He let out a chuckle. “Really?”

“I don’t know how to bake,” you said. “And also I needed bribery so that you’d take a look at the files I brought.”

He eyed them wearily. “That’s a lot of pages.”

“But hey, the cookies are delicious.” You opened the box to turn it in his direction, wiggling your brows. “Try one.”

He heaved a sigh and grabbed one, then bit into it and raised his brows.

“Wow.”

“Right?”

“I’m not sure I know this flavor.”

“Blueberry coffee.”

“Blueberry coffee?” he repeated and you grinned.

“Yeah well, I happen to know you don’t like it too sweet,” you said. “The guy at the register said this one is pretty good—I still refuse to believe you don’t like dessert.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” he said. “I just don’t like too much sugar.”

“I could eat dessert for breakfast, lunch and dinner.” You clasped your hands under your chin. “Did you always dislike it?”

“Well,” he trailed off and shrugged his shoulders. “I mean sugar was rationed, so I didn’t grow up with too much of it. We had it better than most folk but we still didn’t use much. And then the war and then HYDRA...It took me a while to get used to food when I got back, and desserts weren’t the priority.”

You pursed your lips, your heart clenching with compassion. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Don’t be, I don’t mind.”

“You hate it when people ask you about your past though.”

He shook his head. “I don’t if you’re the one asking me.”

You could feel a smile warming your face, and you bit down on your lip.

“Well then, I’m making it my personal challenge to find desserts that you’ll like,” you said as he took another bite of the cookie. “And I’m warning you, I’m very ambitious.”

“Oh really?” he teased you, smiling back. “I haven’t noticed.”

“So I will succeed,” you said and reached out to grab the file at the top, then opened it. “Speaking of succeeding, I need you to take a look at these.”

He took a look at the multiple files, then turned to you.

“Coffee?”

“Oh my God, yes please.”

                                               *

The problem with you and Bucky working alone was that you got along way too well. When you were around other people you could work efficiently but when it you were alone, you got way too distracted.

Like you were right now.

“That’s not a valid answer!” he insisted and you gasped.

“It is!”

“It’s not, it goes against the game.”

“There’s only one logical answer to the 3 things you should take to a deserted island. Powerboat, satellite phone, water filter.”

“Nope.”

“The goal is to get the fuck out of the island!” you insisted, moving your hands to emphasize your point and he shook his head.

“That’s cheating.”

“Fine, what am I supposed to take with me, genius?”

“Knife to hunt for food so you don’t starve, water to not die of dehydration, blanket to not freeze to death at night.” He counted with his fingers. “The goal is survival.”

“I wouldn’t survive a day in nature,” you said. “Like, if I’m ever in the nature, I’ll just let it kill me.”

“That’s not…”

“Also,” you added. “What if the animal I need to kill is a cute deer? What am I gonna do, kill Bambi?”

“Again, you have to survive somehow.”

You gasped. “Not at the expense of Bambi!”

“Sorry about Bambi,” he deadpanned and you made a face.

“Like I said,” you muttered. “I’m not hunting, I’m getting the hell out of the island. You have fun playing Survivor there.”

“See you’re saying this now but if we were both on the island, you’d be eating Bambi.”

“Bucky!”

“I’d just lie to you about where it came from.”

Your jaw dropped and you pushed at his arm, making him let out a laugh.

 “Bambi is in a farm,” he said, trying to keep a straight face, “where she can run all she wants and be happy—”

“Keep talking like that and I’ll get on my powerboat and leave you behind,” you insisted, pointing a finger at him. “I’m just not built for survival, okay? I can barely survive seasonal change, you think I’ll survive a goddamn island? Nope.”

“I’d keep you alive,” he said nonchalantly, reaching out into the box to get another cookie while you turned your phone in your hand.

“Okay, my turn.” You sat up straighter. “We talked about this the other day with Kels and Caleb.”

“I’m listening.”

“Let’s say you woke up tomorrow,” you said. “And everything is perfect. What’s the first thing you’d want to see?”

He raised his brows, a small smile playing on his lips and you took a sip of your coffee.

“Nothing is off limits,” you said. “And no judging, because Caleb said he’d wake up to a bank account of seven figures and had to deal with Kelsey asking him ‘what about world peace you heartless ass?’ for like days whenever he opened his mouth.”

Bucky let out a chuckle, humming as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to tell you or not. You narrowed your eyes at him, resting your elbows on the kitchen island and leaning in.

“Come on,” you taunted him. “Say it.”

“In a perfect world?”

“Yeah,” you said. “You can be totally selfish. What do you wake up to?”

His blue eyes searched your face, his smile fading as he swallowed thickly, then took a deep breath.

“You,” he said. “Next to me.”

Your gaze snapped up to his, the gears in your mind screeching to a halt, your breath hitching in your throat. You could feel your heart hammering in your chest, warmth rushing through your system so fast that it made you lightheaded while you tried your hardest to think through the haze.

Bucky liked you back.

…Oh God, he liked you back.

You could swear your whole body was shaking as you took a trembling breath in a desperate attempt to find your voice but before you could say anything, several voices carried out into the kitchen from the front door; Sam, Cass and AJ, and Sarah.

“Buck?”

“Uncle Bucky!”

“Boys, don’t run!”

Hurried footsteps approached and Bucky had to force himself to tear his gaze from yours, then turned to catch AJ and Cass who flung themselves to him mid-air.

“Whoa, did you guys get bigger since I last saw you?” he asked, making them giggle and you tried to pull yourself together, then waved at them.

“Hi guys.”

“Hi!”

“Oh hey there!” Sarah only hesitated for a moment by the doorframe before she went to kiss Bucky’s cheek, then turned to you. “It’s been so long, how have you been?”

“Good,” you managed to squeak out and then cleared your throat. “Great, and you?”

 “I left the door open because there are more people—” Sam paused when he saw you, his eyes going from you to Bucky and to you again. “Uh…more people coming. Hey.”

“Hi Sam, it’s great to see you.”

“Bucky, I already like your—no no no, Alpine, I come in peace!” Caleb’s voice reached the kitchen and Bucky put the boys down, then made his way to the hallway as if nothing was out of the ordinary, as if you weren’t about to pass out in the middle of the kitchen in front of Sam and Sarah.

“And I thought we were here early,” Sam commented, earning a not-so-subtle jab to his ribs from Sarah and you licked your lips, then nodded your head.

“Yeah I…we—we were working.” You vaguely motioned at the files on the kitchen island, your hands still shaky, and you cleared your throat again. “Um—excuse me.”

You made your way out of the kitchen to the hallway and grabbed Kelsey’s arm while Bucky was distracted by the rest of the team asking him where to put the things they brought before you pulled her into the bathroom and slammed the door behind you.

“What’s going on?” she asked and you covered your mouth, jumping up and down with a squeal.

“Kels…”

“What?”

“He likes me.”

Kelsey pulled her brows together. “What?”

You let out a giggle and dropped your hands, your cheeks almost hurting with how wide you were smiling while you bounced on the balls of your feet, your heart still slamming against your chest.

“Bucky,” you whispered. “He…he likes me.”

“Oh my God!” Kelsey pulled you into a tight hug, then pulled back to look at you better. “He said it?”

“Well he—you know, I asked him that question we were talking about the other day, the perfect world one. And he said he’d wake up next to me.”

“Holy shit!” Kelsey whispered and grabbed at your hand. “See? I told you!”

“I can’t believe it,” you said and let out a teary laugh, then fanned at your face with your other hand. “I’m gonna cry I think—”

“Nope you’re not, because the team will start asking questions,” Kelsey said and you took a deep breath, sniffling. “Then?”

“Then Sarah and Sam showed up, and then you guys.”

Kelsey blinked a couple of times. “You guys didn’t even kiss yet?”

“I couldn’t even tell him I like him back yet!” you whispered. “And I—how am I gonna get him alone without the whole team noticing?”

“Yeah, that’s too dangerous right now,” Kelsey said, then shrugged her shoulders. “You’ll have to wait until we all leave.”

Your eyes widened. “That’s hours away!”

“You two waited this long, you can wait a couple of hours,” she said while you let out a whine.

“But I want to kiss him!”

“You will do all that and more, just get through this barbecue nonsense.”

You threw your head back, stomping on your foot like a spoiled kid and Kelsey let out a laugh.

“You’ll be fine,” she said. “Want me to tell Caleb?”

“When you get home, yes,” you said. “I can’t risk anyone hearing it, and the place is full of people.”

“Yeah, good call.”

“And assuming I won’t explode until everyone leaves…”

Kelsey grinned. “To repeat. You could handle seven years of bad sex, you can handle like seven hours until mindblowing sex.”

Your head shot up.

“Wait wait wait,” you said, your heart doing an excited flip. “Do you think he wants to sleep with me? Like, tonight? Because I’m like so so ready but would he want to?”

“No Birdie, once we all leave you guys will hold hands and recite poetry. The fuck do you think?!”

You started fanning your face again.

“I mean I—obviously I really really really like him but also I—I want to jump on him,” you stammered. “Like, both emotional and physical.”

“Shocking,” Kelsey stated. “The sky is blue. Water is wet. You want to fuck Bucky.”

“I mean if he does want to talk about his feelings I can—”

“I don’t think any man would want to talk about his feelings when you’re in that dress and ready to jump in his bed,” Kelsey motioned at you and you beamed at her.

“Aw thank you! I got it from—”

“You can send me the link later,” she said. “We should go before they realize we’re hiding in the bathroom.”

You nodded your head while she opened the door to check the hallway, then stepped outside with you following her suit.

“Remember,” she said. “You’re not doing anything while we’re here. Too risky.”

You nodded again and fixed your hair, letting out a breath.

“Yeah,” you said as you walked with her to the kitchen. “Yeah, of course. Shouldn’t be that hard.”

                                            *

Correction.

It was, in fact, that hard.

You couldn’t focus on a goddamn thing.

You were pretty sure that Bucky had told Sam because they were having a discussion in whispers at the corner of the garden while everyone drank and ate, and the only thing that pulled them out of it was Caleb when he wanted to take pictures with the whole team and Wilsons. You had taken a step in Bucky’s direction for the picture but Kelsey had pulled you to the other side of the crowd, muttering something about PR.

And throughout all that, it was as if you were in a haze.

Bucky’s eyes barely left you the whole day, though he hadn’t come closer to you like he wanted to give you your space to think about it. It was laughable to think he was under the impression that you wouldn’t throw yourself at him after months of pining after him, but Bucky could be very oblivious sometimes so you figured it was normal.

And you were still burning under his gaze, no matter how much you tried to act normal.

“So yeah, apparently Bucky winning gave Paul a huge leverage, just like the rest of us,” Tim said while you stole a look at Bucky who was chuckling at something Caleb said and Sarah let out a laugh, then said something while motioning at Bucky, making Caleb’s jaw drop as Bucky shook his head fervently like he was trying to convince him. “He got like a six figure deal for Senator Holloway’s next campaign. Anyways, I can barely talk to you during work nowadays.”

“Yeah, I’m like swamped with work,” you said, barely paying attention to Tim. “It’s fun but also very busy.”

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he said, clearing his throat like he was trying to gather up courage while Bucky’s eyes found yours, awakening the butterflies in your stomach, a fire sweeping over your face. “Do you want to grab coffee sometime when you’re—”

“I’ll talk to you later, I just remembered an email I’m supposed to send Gray,” you said without so much as hearing what he was saying before you made your way back into the house so that you could calm down a little. You let out a breath and went into the kitchen to fill yourself a glass of water in hopes of helping the fire burning at the pit of your stomach. You took a huge gulp, then turned your head when you heard Cass saying your name from the doorframe.

“Hey,” you said with a small smile. “What’s up?”

“Um, can you help us with something?”

“Sure thing,” you said, following him to the living room and AJ gave you a shy smile, then pointed at the phonograph.

“Do you know if it works?”

“I think so.”

“Can we play it? I would ask uncle Bucky but he’s talking to mom and the other guests.”

“I don’t think Bucky would mind,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders, then stepped closer to the phonograph. “Sure you can. Want me to help?”

“Yes please,” they both said, making you press a hand over your chest.

“You guys are like the sweetest kids in the world,” you said and sat down in front of the phonograph, tucked your legs under you, then pulled a couple of vinyl records from the shelf underneath it. “Do you have a favorite?”

AJ thought for a moment. “We don’t know any old singers.”

“That’s totally fine,” you said gently. “We can pick together then, and it’ll be a surprise to all of us. Exciting, isn’t it?”

They both nodded and sat down, and as if on cue, Alpine jumped from the couch to curl up next to you.

“Hi,” you said with a smile as you ran your fingers through her fur. “Alpine wants to listen to music too, I guess.”

Cass reached out to pet her while you put some of the records on the floor.

“Which one?” you asked them and they both turned their attention on the covers of the records with such serious expressions that one would think they were trying to decide on something incredibly important.

“Do you have a favorite?” Cass asked and you pretended to zip your mouth shut.

“I trust your judgment.”

They exchanged glances and Cass whispered something into AJ’s ear, making him frown before he nodded.

“Um,” he said and pointed at one of the records. “This one?”

“Whoa!” you said. “How did you guys know it’s my favorite?!”

Well, no.

Sinatra wasn’t your favorite, not by a long shot but they didn’t need to know that.

Their eyes shone with excitement and AJ grinned.

“Really?”

“Oh I’m like a huge fan of him,” you said. “Okay, let’s play him then. Who wants to do it?”

“We don’t know how to play it.”

“I’ll tell you. It’s very easy.”

Cass grabbed the record, then looked at you. “What if I break it or something?”

You shrugged your shoulders and dropped your voice like you were giving them a secret.

“I have the exact same record at home,” you whispered. “If you break it, I’ll replace it with mine, and Bucky won’t even notice.”

Cass giggled and pulled out the record out of the sleeve and you turned the phonograph on.

“Okay, you have to move the needle. AJ, can you do it?”

AJ nodded and moved the needle.

“And Cass, can you place the record over there?”

Cass did as you asked.

“And now, let’s put the needle here,” you muttered, reaching out to put the needle on the record, and the melody filled the room, making them gasp. The look of excitement on their faces was so sweet that you couldn’t help but laugh, then clasped your hands together.

“There you go!” you said. “Told you it was easy.”

“Um, how does it work?” AJ asked and you pointed at the record spinning on the player.

“So there are grooves on it,” you said. “On the vinyl. The needle follows—”

“Uncle Bucky!” Cass ran to the door and your heart skipped a beat, and you looked over your shoulder to see Bucky leaning to the doorframe, watching you with a soft light in his eyes. You tried to pull yourself together and cleared your throat, then motioned at the phonograph.

“I’m teaching them how to use it.”

“We picked her favorite record!”

“They’re way too smart,” you told Bucky as if giving him a secret and Bucky chuckled.

“Oh yeah, they are.”

“And then?” AJ insisted. “How does it turn into music?”

“So yeah, the needle!” You turned to the phonograph. “Okay, the needle follows those grooves. You see those?”

“Mm hm.”

“So the needle follows those to make the sound, and there are magnets in the phonograph,” you said. “Those magnets turn it into soundwaves, and then—”

“Uncle Bucky, she looks like a princess,” You heard Cass’s very loud whisper and you bit back a smile.

“She really does, buddy.” Bucky whispered back, making your cheeks burn and AJ rolled his eyes.

“Don’t mind him,” he told you in exasperation like this was a daily occurrence and you repressed a laugh.

“And then those soundwaves follow here, and tada! Music.”

“Because of magnets?”

“Magnets and soundwaves, yeah.”

“Whoa,” AJ said and turned to Bucky. “But Uncle Bucky, you do know you can listen to music on your phone now?”

“He’s old,” you told AJ, shooting a grin at Bucky. “Give him time, he doesn’t know half of the artists we listen to nowadays.”

“I’ll show you my favorite, come on!” AJ ran to him to pull him by the hand. “You’ll love it!”

“Buddy, can you give me a minute?” he asked without pulling his gaze off you and you shook your head and stood up, making Alpine let out a noise of discontent.

“No, come on!” AJ insisted. “It’s really good music!”

“That sounds important,” you said, while Cass nodded fervently. “Go.”

He looked like he wanted to argue but ended up letting AJ pull him out of the living room to the garden, Cass running after them. You looked down at Alpine who was blinking up at you, then leaned down to scratch at her head.

“It’s fine,” you muttered while she purred. “Patience is a virtue and all that.”

                                            *

You could swear time had decided to move extra slow today.

But it had done nothing to soothe the excitement pulsing through your system, if anything it heightened it.

Thankfully, people were leaving. Everyone was in a good mood, and it was Saturday evening, so you could hear the plans they were trying to decide on as they walked from the garden to the kitchen. You pushed up the sleeves of zip up hoodie Bucky had given you earlier today when you got cold and sat down on the stool, trying to act like your heart wasn’t beating in your throat.

“Bucky, are you sure?”

“Very sure.”

“Sam, you should join us!”

“I appreciate that Kelsey, but I am too old to go bar hopping with you guys.”

“That’s not even true! We only changed like four clubs the last time.”

“Exactly.”

“Miss Wilson?”

“Thank you Caleb, but what Sam said. And I gotta put the boys to bed.”

“Mom, can we go?”

“Nope.”

“Tim?”

“I’m down.”

“Lisa?”

“Oh for sure. Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Birdie?”

 You lifted your eyes from the file in front of you.

“Bucky and I will work until late I think,” you said calmly, motioning at the rest of the files. “I’ll take an Uber. See you at home.”

You could see Bucky’s head snapping up like he wasn’t expecting you to stay, Sam and Sarah exchanging glances before they both smirked and Caleb frowned while Tim looked almost sad that you weren’t joining.

“Seriously?” Caleb asked. “It’s Saturday night.”

“And just because you don’t work doesn’t mean no one else can,” Kelsey said, grabbing him by the arm, and Caleb gasped.

“I have been working all day today, if you haven’t noticed—”

“See you guys!” Kelsey said as she dragged him out of the kitchen, Lisa, Tim, Sarah, Sam and the boys following them. Bucky walked them to the door, the chatter in the hallway continuing in full speed until the door opened, and then closed again.

Then, silence.

As silent as it could be with your heart pounding in your ears.

You slipped from the stool to lean your back against the kitchen island, trying to keep your breathing under control, squeezing the phone in your hand as you heard his footsteps coming closer until he appeared at the doorframe.

God, he was way too handsome.

You tried to swallow the nervousness tightening your throat as he took a step closer, putting his hands in his pockets.

“You didn’t leave.”

“Didn’t want to.”

His blue eyes searched your face as if he was trying to read your mind, making your heartbeat even faster.

“How long?” you managed to ask and he huffed out a curt laugh.

“For…” he trailed off. “Since I first saw you. Since you waltzed into the office with that huge folder and put it on my desk and said ‘Hi, you don’t know me yet but I figured out how to win this thing.”

A giggle bloomed in your mouth.

“But why wouldn’t you tell me?” you whispered, taking a step to him and he shook his head.

“You’ve been thinking about this just for a day, I’ve been thinking about this for a very…”

The rest of his sentence got lost somewhere as shock muffled your ears before realization crashed down on you.

…Oh.

Oh, Bucky actually thought—

He had no idea you stayed because you returned his feelings, he was under the impression that you stayed because you wanted him to explain. He actually thought today was the first time you thought about the possibility of you and him.

The idea was so absurd that you couldn’t help the exhale of disbelief leaving you.

“You think—” you cut him off. “Wait, Bucky…You—you think today is the first time I’ve thought about this?”

He looked like he didn’t know how to answer your question and a laugh climbed up your throat.

“Oh my God,” you whispered. “And I thought I was very obvious.”

He frowned slightly as you licked your lips, your stomach still fluttering.

“Ask me what my answer was.”

“To what?”

“The perfect world question,” you said with whatever courage you could pull from somewhere within you. “I know your answer but you don’t know mine. Ask.”

Bucky swallowed thickly, his voice low; “What was your answer?”

You could swear you were shaking, but by some miracle, when you spoke, your voice didn’t crack.

“The same as yours.”

The look of hope that dawned on his handsome face was so foreign that it took you by surprise. You hadn’t even seen it the night he won the election; he was happy then but this was something else. He took a step to close the distance between you, his flesh hand lifting a little so that he could cup your cheek, making your breath catch in your throat. His gaze slipped to your lips, then back at your eyes as if he was asking for your permission and you looked up at him, breathless with anticipation before you nodded. You could almost hear the crackling in the air, something electric between you coming to life, getting more and more intense—

Until his lips found yours.

This was different.

From all the times Max kissed you, or all the times you kissed guys before Max, none of it had ever been like this.

This was pure, unadulterated desire.

You could feel yourself melting in his arms as you lost yourself in his kiss, your fingers curling in his shirt just so that you could have an anchor, but a small whine escaping you when he pulled back to rest his forehead against yours, his breath caressing your lips. Your eyes fluttered open as he pulled down the zipper of the hoodie you were wearing over your sundress, his movements agonizingly slow like he was opening up a fragile present before he let it fall on the floor, desire making you dizzy. He dragged his fingertips down your arm, and gently pulled your phone out of your hand to put it aside just out of your reach, your head following the movement.

“Wait, I…” You tried to think through the haze. “I need that.”

“No.” Bucky’s voice was soft as he shook his head. “You don’t.”

You blinked up at him.

“What if—” you stammered, “what if while we’re not looking the world catches fire?”

A small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth as he leaned in again. “Good. Let it burn.”

You were beginning to think no matter how close he was, it would never be enough with the way your body ached for him. He took your breath away when he kissed you again, his heart drumming under your hand, and he wrapped his arm around your waist to press your body closer to his, only pulling back to trail his thumb over your burning cheekbone.

“God…” he whispered in awe. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

The room was spinning.

You were on fire.

It had to be because of the fire that you didn’t even realize the words coming out of your mouth until you actually heard them:

“I love you.”

And everything went still.

Including him.

It was as if someone had just poured a bucket of ice water over you, your whole body stiffening the moment you realized what you had actually said. Your eyes snapped open, your breath catching in your throat as tears of frustration rushed to your eyes, and Bucky pulled back to see you better, a look of surprise etched on his handsome face.

Of course you had to ruin it.

“Sorry, I—sorry, I’m just—I’m gonna—” You couldn’t even finish your sentence as you rushed past him to get to the hallway, leaving him in the kitchen completely frozen.

You were an idiot.

You just had to open your stupid mouth and ruin it.

You couldn’t even blame Bucky or anyone else. Hazel had a point, you were the starry-eyed idiot with a schoolgirl crush who couldn’t keep her fucking mouth shut just because he had kissed you.

You all but ran down the hallway to get to the front door but the minute you pulled it to yourself, you felt his presence behind you before he slammed the door close with enough force to shake it in its hinges, making you gasp in surprise.

This must’ve been how he was on missions.

No one heard him coming until it was too late.

If this were someone else—anyone else, you would’ve been petrified but even now, through the frustration and shock, your mind somehow knew that Bucky would rather cut off his own hand than hurt you. No part of him touched you, and for a moment he just stood there behind you, the warmth of his body nearly intoxicating until he broke the silence, his voice a low murmur.

“Did you mean it?”

“What does it matter?” You managed to rasp out. “I ruined it.”

“Birdie…”

“Listen, you’ll say it’s too much, I—I know, it’s fine.” You stumbled over your words. “You’ll have my resignation letter tonight, and Kelsey will pick up my things from the office. We don’t have to talk about any of this, just…” You wiped your eye with the back of your hand. “I ruined it, it’s fine, I’m just gonna go, okay?”

“You didn’t—” Bucky let out an impatient breath. “Sweetheart, can you just look at me please?”

You were pretty sure that if you saw the look of disappointment in his eyes, you were going to collapse on the floor and start sobbing but you sniffled, then turned around to look up at him.

That didn’t look like disappointment.

He lifted his hand to wipe at the tear under your eye with a soft smile.

“I’m not gonna say it’s too much.”

For some reason that remained a mystery to you, you jumped at the opportunity to convince him; “No you should say it’s too much because it is too much, because like I’d totally understand—”

You were cut off when he brushed his lips against yours, but this time it was way too gentle like he feared you would break if he so much as held you wrong. He pulled back to let you breathe since your nose was clogged because of the tears that kept coming, and your eyes fluttered open, confusion settling over your mind like a fog, engulfing all your thoughts in it.

What was happening?

Bucky’s eyes darted over your face, and he took a deep breath like he was nervous.

“I’m not good at this,” he muttered. “But I need you to listen to me, okay?”

You pulled your brows together and sniffled, then nodded.

“I…” he trailed off. “For the last what, 80 years now? Everything with HYDRA, and those missions and cryo, over and over again, it was all ice. That was the only permanent thing. Bone-chilling cold. And when I first came back, when I got my mind back, I kept wondering why I still felt so cold, like a part of me never really left there.”

You blinked back the tears, wiping at your nose.

“And eventually, I figured it would be like that for the rest of my life. No matter what I did, what I tried, it was yet another thing that I would never get back, something that HYDRA carved into me. I got all of it out of my mind but I couldn’t get that…that chill out of my chest.” He paused for a moment and breathed out a curt laugh like he was lost in the memory, his brows furrowing.

“Until you came along,” he said, his voice a mere whisper. “And brought the warmth with you.”

You didn’t even notice the tears were back until Bucky wiped under your eye with a knuckle, trailing your cheekbone.

“I’m not gonna say it’s too much,” he told you. “I can’t. I love you too.”

…Oh.

Bucky—

Bucky loved you.

He actually loved you.

You stared up at him in complete silence as Bucky reached behind you, and you heard the unmistakable sound of the door opening before he stepped back, a shadow playing in his eyes like he was preparing for the pain, like he expected you to somehow reach into his chest to rip out his heart and walk out, leaving him with ice in his chest again.

“I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want me to,” he said. “Including keeping you here. I just needed you to know, that’s it.”

This had to be the third time he gave you a way out today, and each time it felt more and more insane to even think you would walk away.

A small sob climbed your throat, disbelief making you let out a teary laugh before you grabbed the door handle, pushed the door close, then flung yourself into his arms to pull him into a kiss. Your head was spinning, you were breathless, your heart felt like it was trying to climb out of your ribcage but none of that was enough to make you stop kissing him. He leaned down to snake his vibranium arm behind your thighs to lift you up like you weighed nothing, making you let out a squeal that soon turned into a giggle as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He carried you to the room at the other end of the hallway which turned out to be his bedroom, not pulling back from your kiss as if it would somehow break the spell until he carefully laid you down on the bed, settling between your legs. You tugged at his shirt with shaky hands and he pulled it off his head to throw it somewhere in the room, and you had only a couple of seconds to drink in the sight of his muscular torso before his lips found yours again. You trailed your fingertips down his chest to his abs and tried to unbuckle his belt but he pulled back, making you chase his lips with an impatient whine.

“Birdie—hey,” he whispered, his warm hand cupping your cheek as your eyes fluttered open, your heart beating in your ears. “Slow, okay darling?”

You tried to catch your breath, confusion pinching your brows together. No one had ever asked you to be slower about anything in your entire life; on the contrary, you were either pushed or convinced to be faster, to rush, to get it over with, whatever it was.

In or outside the bed.

“I, um…” You tried to find your voice through the fog of desire, looking up at him as he stroked your burning cheek while you played with his dog tags. “I don’t—I don’t know how to do things slow. I think.”

You could see that fond light glimmering in his blue eyes even in the dimly lit room.

“That’s okay,” he murmured, his vibranium fingertips running up and down your leg, waking goosebumps on your skin. “I’ll teach you how.”

This was new.

And way too unfamiliar.

And for once, your brain couldn’t think, not when he was looking at you like that, touching you like that.

“And you don’t—” You paused, but somehow Bucky didn’t seem annoyed by you trying to wrap your mind around the idea. Instead he waited patiently like he had all the time in the world, like there was nothing more important than what you were about to say. “You sure you don’t want to be fast to…”

For fuck’s sake, it was so hard to produce a single thought when he was half naked on top of you.

“To do what, beautiful?” he asked softly, nudging your nose with his, coaxing a giggle out of you while you trailed your fingertips over his muscular back.

“To do something else?” you said, what Max would always say when you were in bed flashing through your mind. “To—to work?”

He looked almost at a loss for words at the mere suggestion but he seemed to pull himself together much faster than you, a chuckle rumbling in his chest.

“Birdie,” he murmured and dipped his head to kiss your neck, his hand pushing the hem of your dress up your legs, making your eyes flutter close. “I cannot even begin to tell you how much we won’t work tonight.”

[artytaeh]

𓆸 ֗ ˳ DRABBLE : [ meschinità ostinata ] 𔓘

theodore is a man of patience, or at least that's what his reserved behavior hints at. obviously, everyone has a limit; if you made your moodiness his problem, then he'll make his annoyance yours. it's only fair, right?

taglist : p in v, hinting towards theodore being a brat tamer. no further descriptions because i don't ruin surprises. obvious +18 content; read at your own risk.

"you're not stopping, are you?" the thick italian accent doesn't cover for the clear tease within his tone, a breathy chuckle leaving theodore's lips, as his hand smacks another slap to your asscheeks: "come on, tesoro; you have a lot to apologize for, don't you?"

one would have thought that, from the way theodore seems oh so patient with his girlfriend, that any annoyance would be sucked up, forgiven and forgotten. although theo is a good boyfriend... he's also a slytherin, and slytherins rarely forget resentments without a good bribery, you know? like a serpent, theo cunningly waits for the right time to strike.

in a more rational part of your mind — since everything else seems to become too blurry and white out.from the pleasure that keeps poking on that sweet spot, again, and again and again —, you ponder about regret.

should you have been impatient this afternoon? no, it wasn't fair to push your pettiness and moody behavior onto theodore, especially not when the italian was just trying to smoke his afternoon cigarette, hopefully to expel some accumulated stress, from this week's assignments.

do you regret it? not exactly.

how can anyone regret anything, if the outcome is theodore nott under you, blue eyes piercing into your soul with the cockiness of who knows what he's doing — gaze dispersing from your fucked out expression, only to stare in marvel at the way your chest bounces with every. single. movement. of your hips? oh, he's loving this.

theo loves your bratty side.

it's not a secret either. why do you think he likes the sassy ones? the comebacks make him laugh, and theo definitely laughs harder when he gets you so tired and fucked out of your attitude, that not even a huff of annoyance he gets out of you.

and he's working in that direction.

well, it's more accurate to say that he's making you work for that.

his hand lazily settles on your hip, caressing the skin already tainted with darkening fingermarks; so what? it feels so damn good to be inside you, it always has theodore muttering in italian—cursing and praising, depending on his tone, you've learned from pure experience. the other one, as if to taunt your attempts of scolding his unhealthy habit of smoking, holds a cigarette between his index and ring finger.

you know, the ones he used to impatiently prepare you for his cock, still wet with your slick. theo loves to feel you drooling for him, already fidgety and sensitive when he slips inside you — or, in this case, having seen you sink onto his painfully hard erection. the heaven's view, he swears.

taking a drag from his cigarette, theodore ponders whether you deserve an incentive, or to have him being mean with you. weren't you so smart earlier?

his fingers bruise the skin on your hipbone yet again, this time thrusting up for a harsh thrust, contrasting with this slow rhythm you're providing. theo scoffs, "seriously, is this your way to apologize for your bitchy behavior? dai, amore, non deludermi."

as if it's that easy to make your body work faster; it's already uncomfortable to be in this position, especially overwhelmed from his fingers!

not that theo cares about that, anyway.

another harsh slap to your asscheeks; a raise of his left eyebrow, and you know that he's losing his patience: "don't make me do it for you, dolcezza. i'll rip manners out of you."

and as delightful as that sounds, you're not sure if you could take that sort of overstimulation today. not when you're already like this, even less when theodore is savoring the idea of bullying your pretty lips and sensitive core.

so, hands falling for support on his abdomen, you do your best to ignore the aching on your thighs — perhaps you should do this more often or exercise? — you force yourself to lift your hips, only to slam them again until theodore is so deep inside you, that your clit makes a wet mess of his groin. theodore fucking loves that, expelling the smoke from his lips with a breathless chuckle, head tilting back to the headboard.

yeah, mattheo is probably sleeping in the common room tonight.

not appreciating the lack of response, zero empathy towards the effort you're already doing, theodore sneaks his free hand amidst the mess of your hair. his fingers tangle between your locks, until his nails lightly scratch over your scalp and tug you closer to him; a demand from him that feels ridiculously good to you. his free hand moves the cigarette away from his lips, and taking the chance of your gasp from the extra tug on your hair, theodore blows the burning smoke to your lips; inside your mouth. taunting how much you dislike this vice of his.

nicotine swirls between your tongues as they meet; that, however, isn't the reason why you crawl back to him everytime.

theodore nott is a drug of his own.

perhaps he decides to be nicer now, sloppily exchanging slow kisses with you, letting his hips roll upwards to pursue his orgasm.

"non puoi nemmeno essere una vera troia," theo is so close to you, that the movement of his lips, pronouncing each foreign word, brush against yours, creating a tingling sensation that only adds to the notion of being cursed and insulted—at least, that's what your intuition tells you.

his hand blindly abandons his cigarette on the ashtray, keenly aware that you can feel—and taste—that acid smell of tobacco and cigarettes, less considerate than he usually is about your irking over it. his fingers grip your jaw, his thumb squeezing your cheek as his other fingers do the same, not even letting you moan from each sharp thrust that kisses your cervix.

"cazzo, it makes me want to laugh at you. you talk, talk, talk my ear off," even breathless, theo seems to have too much to say; it should be embarrassing, really, if his disdain didn't make your inner walls clench tighter around his thickness. "and can't even own your bitching afterwards. didn't even properly apologize; maybe you don't deserve this, huh?"

it takes a moment for you to understand the implication there, too distracted by the toe curling sensation of being repeatedly filled up. it's when theodore stops, resting on the mattress once more and giving up on the fluid movement of his hips, previously bouncing you on his groin, that your eyes widen with disbelief. seriously?

at first, you think about calling him out for his pettiness.

but it's the smug look and smirk that makes you want to sob instead, dignity crumbling to ashes, reborn as despair to finally cum. please, please.

his hand lowers to your neck, fingers curling around your throat, even though there's not much of a threat there. it's a loose grip; not even properly holding it, a simple squeeze that feels rather gentle, more like he's mocking you, in a way.

the worst is that theodore isn't even being mean. no, this is him having fun; if he was being mean, he'd be teasing you about the first semblance of frustrated tears, and you'd have to cry for it.

picking up the pieces of any strength left, the smartest choice is to surrender yourself, hopefully calming down the fire that burns within theodore's temper to slowly sneak into his good graces again. your hips move — unable to exert the tired muscles of your thighs — grinding helplessly against the firm muscles of his groin, the movement enough to rip out a low groan from theodore, appeased that he won't listen any whines from you, for now.

"brava ragazza," comes as a praise; before the compliment gets over your head, his free hand slaps your thigh, "go on. use me like a toy, carina, cum on my cock."

yeah, this would be a long night.

[cjsoleil]

You’re My Angel Baby (Mingi x Reader)

Summary: Y/N goes to a Halloween party and ends up taking care of a cute, drunk cowboy outlaw. Mingi wakes up in the morning with a vague memory of a girl dressed as an angel, and decides he has to meet her.

Halloween night, and somehow Y/N got swindled into joining her best friend, Seonghwa and his boyfriend, Hongjoong, to some party one of their friends planned. It took a lot of convincing, and even more bribery, but she did agree to go. She's dressed in a all white, a flowey long in the back short in the front dress with pure white boots. She put a silver, sparkly and floral headpiece in her hair and beside her sits a pair of fake white angel wings that she’ll put on when she gets out of the car. A cliche yes, but it was a little last minute. She borrowed the wings from a friend.

“Again with the pirate costume Hongjoong?” Y/N teases from the backseat. Hongjoong is wearing a bandana, white jeans, white shirt that is kinda like a blouse and a jacket. Clearly a pirate, “Is that three years in a row now?”

“Shut up.” Hongjoong snaps his usual comeback.

“You should appreciate me more Joongie.” Seonghwa pats the hand resting on his thigh, “I’ve been adapting my costumes to fit yours for years.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“But I want couples costumes!” That’s true, Seonghwa dressed up as a pirate too a few years back, then a parrot, now the mermaid, well, more like siren. He did his make up to suit his look, wearing a sparkly dress with baggy pants and he painted little scales around his ears, neck, and hands. It’s very much a DIY costume, but still very pretty. He’s going to run out of ideas soon. Y/N zones back in to see the car stopped at a red light and the two boys smiling at each other all cute. She groans and wonders how she’s ended up being these two perminate third wheel.

“Do I really have to come?”

“Sorry dear.” Seonghwa coos and looks back at his friend, “But we need a sober driver.”

“Besides. Your a nursing student, you can stop people from dying from alcohol poisoning.” Hongjoong adds.

“I cannot. You better not bring some shit faced frat boy to me and expect me to take care of him. Or her. Anyone. It’s not my job to take care of people outside my placement.” Because Y/N is not interested in dealing with whatever asshole drank too much. If they get alcohol poisoning from being stupid, it’s not anyone’s problem but their own.

“Whatever you say ratchet.”

“I’ll show you ratchet, Hongjoong.”

“Be nice you two.”

At the party, Y/N makes sure to stay close to Seonghwa and Hongjoong, and she smiles pleasantly at the people they talk to. Luckily it’s not all bad, Jongho and Yeosang are there too, so at least there’s some people she knows. She watches over her friends while they drink, making sure they don’t do anything very stupid. She can condone a little stupidity. It’s all very boring. She doesn’t have a lot of people that she can talk to, and she doesn’t have anything to really do. There’s some people dancing on the open floor, but she’d honestly rather die than become involved with that. On the bright side, someone had the decency to provide food. So after telling her friends, she wanders into the kitchen area and looks at what they have. There’s candy in a big bowl on the counter, and obviously a shit ton of alcohol she’s not able to drink, nothing great. She wishes they had cinnamon doughnuts or something, when a plate on the counter further away catches her eye.

“What the hell!” She whispers shouts, going over and grabbing an candy apple. There very clearly bought by an actual place that knows how to make them based off how well made they are. So she eats one. Or four. Who knows. Fuck she wishes they had a caramel apple too. Those are the best fall treats.

Someone else wanders into the kitchen, Y/N ignores him. Then the sound of glass breaking catches her attention. She turns her head to see a boy dressed as a cowboy staring at the broken cup on the floor, the cupboard at his head is open. He’s wearing a hat and a mask that covers the bottom half of his face, a leather jacket and tight pants. Despite not seeing much of his face, the boy is clearly drunk based off his heavy movements and pink ears. He’s also, Y/N must admit, very attractive. Maybe it’s the effect of the mask, but she just knows a pretty face hides under the mask. She watches as he kneels down, about to pick up the glass.

“Stop.” The boy looks up at her, stopping his movement, “Stay still. You're going to hurt yourself.” After making sure the boy is actually listening to her, Y/N looks around the kitchen for a broom or something. She doesn’t end up finding one, but she does find a rag, so she goes back to the boy, rag in hand just to see him with large pieces of glass in his hand.

“What did I just say?” Y/N sighs and cleans up the glass around the man and taking the piece from his hand, throwing it all out. She goes back to the still kneeling cowboy and crouches next to him, seeing his hand is bleeding. She cringes, not because of the blood, she’s used to that, but just because she imagines it hurts.

“Look at this. You should have listened to me.” She scolds, and the boy has enough sense to be ashamed, looking down.

“Sorry Angel.” He says, speech a little slurred and she can tell he’s pouting behind the mask, “Help me? Please?” Y/N sighs, looks like she’s playing caretaker tonight after all. At least he seems to be nice. She helps him stand up, which is a little hard because he’s much bigger than her.

“What’s your name?”

“Mingi.” She introduces herself as well.

“Well Mingi, let’s get to a bathroom so you can stop bleeding all over the place.” Y/N walks with Mingi, keeping a hand on his back and stabilizing him when he stumbles. Mingi cups his good hand under the bleeding one, but a few drops still get on the floor. She just ignores it, not her problem.

Y/N notices that people are watching her and Mingi, but she just gives them a dirty look when they catch her eye.

“People need to mind their business.” She mumbles, looking around for wherever the bathroom could be. She doesn’t just want to open random doors. More out of fear of being traumatized than out of respect for the homeowners privacy. She doesn’t even know whose party this is, it wouldn’t matter if she chose to snoop a little. Well, that’s a little hypocritical considering what she just said.

“There.” Mingi points to a closed door and Y/N opens it to see a bathroom.

“Okay, wash your hand and go sit on the toilet while I look for a bandage.” Mingi obeys and Y/N rifles through the medicine cabinet. She grabs bandages and isopropyl, as well as a cotton ball.

“Hold out your hand cowboy.”

“Outlaw.” She hears him mumble as she dips some of the isopropyl onto the cotton ball.

“Hm?”

“Outlaw, not cowboy.” Y/N smiles, and gently grabs Mingi’s hand.

“Outlaw, this may sting a bit.” She plays into his words, because what is the harm? While she doesn’t know the difference between an outlaw and a cowboy, she’s not about to start an argument over it. Mingi only cringes a little when he feels the disinfectant. Then Y/N grabs the roll of bandages, wrapping his hand. Mingi stares at her as she works.

“Pretty Angel.” He mumbles out, and Y/N just barely catches it.

“What a charmer.” She laughs, not taking the words of a drunk man seriously. After a few more moments, she’s done with the bandage.

“There.” She pats his hand a few times, “Now there won’t be blood all over the place. Well, anymore blood. I feel bad for whoever has to clean that up.” She laughs and he looks up at her, staring with wide eyes. He keeps his hand held out to her, “What is it?”

“Kiss it better.”

“Huh?”

“Kiss it better please?” Now, anyone else and she would’ve said no instantly and walk away. But Mingi seems so genuine. And he’s so cute and sweet. So Y/N gives a quick kiss to the palm of his bandaged hand.

“Better?” Mingi nods excitedly. He’s still wearing his mask. He should probably take that off, what if he throws up?

“Mingi. Take off your mask please.” Mingi nods and lifts his good hand to his face, tugging at the fabric. But he doesn’t actually do anything efficient. Just how much did he drink? Finding this a little pathetic, Y/N decides doing it herself would be better.

“Mingi, how about I help you?”

“Sure.” She gets the mask off quickly, fingers just grazing against Mingi’s hot ears.

I was right she thinks when she sees Mingi’s face fully, he is hot. Okay, the stares make more sense now. She puts the mask on the sink.

“Thank you Angel.” He says, smiling at the girl.

“You do know that’s not my name right?” Based off Mingi’s confused look, it’s clear he does not understand that.

“Whatever. Do you have a friend to watch over you?”

“Yunho.” Mingi answers, a name Y/N is somewhat familiar with, “but he left. Don’t know where he is.” Y/N is irritated hearing that. Mingi’s friend just abandoned him while he’s clearly not in his right mind, what if someone took advantage of him? Or if he drank more and got alcohol poisoning, or made the stupid decision to drive? When this Yunho comes back, she’s going to give him a strong lecture on how to treat your intoxicated friends.

“We can hang out until he gets here then.” Mingi looks happy hearing that, smiling brightly.

“Thank you Angel.”

“You are so polite.” Y/N comments, and gives into her urge to pat his cheek gently. Then she helps him stand up again, but when he’s standing, Y/N notices that he looks a little off. She’s about to ask about it, but then she hears Mingi make a gagging sound.

“Shit!” She lifts the toilet seat and pushes Mingi to sit, just in time. Mingi throws up in the toilet, and Y/N rubs his back sympathetically. She takes off his hat and holds it in her other hand.

Once the sickness passes, Mingi leans back and is panting and sweating a little.

“Poor guy.” Y/N puts the hat on his lap before opening the drawer under the sink, grabbing a rag. She runs it over cold water and rings it out, before going back over to Mingi. She holds his chin and wipes his face gently. He hums in content.

“Feels good.” He hums again, Y/N compares him to a happy cat. When she’s done, she wets another rag and lays it over the back of his neck. She lets him be for a while, wanting the nausea to pass before even trying to move him again.

“Hey Mingi.” He looks over to her, blinking tiredly, “I’m gonna go do something real quick-��

“Noo.” Hands grab her wings, tugging at the fake feathers, “Don’t go.”

“It will only be for a minute.”

“Angel, stay with me please.” Y/N is left standing still. The sentiment means a lot more than it should, coming from a drunk man. She sighs, wondering whatever made her so soft hearted. Seonghwa and Hongjoong will just have to wonder where she is for a while. So she grabs the mouthwash from under the sink and fills the cap half way, giving it as well as a small cup she found for Mingi to spit in. When he does so, she cleans out the cup in the sink. Curse her for being so nice. And curse Mingi for being so cute. If he wasn’t, she probably would’ve just cleaned up his cut and let him be.

Okay, maybe she isn't really nice.

“Okay cowboy- sorry, outlaw.” She then clicks her tongue with though, “What am I going to do with you?”

“Want to go to my room.”

“Your room? Do you live here?” Mingi nods, stretching his neck.

“Yeah. With my roommates.” Well this makes things a little easier. She will simply bring Mingi to his bedroom so he can sleep this off, and he’ll wake up in the morning without any recollection of her, or anything else that happened tonight. As well as a massive hangover. He’ll probably have to skip class tomorrow, if he has any.

“Wait, do you know where you got those candy apples- actually don’t answer that. Are you feeling better?” Mingi nods, and Y/N squints her eyes at him, “Are you sure? Is your head dizzy, stomach hurting?”

“M’okay.” Well, he is definitely looking more alive than before, so Y/N choses to believe him.

“Up we go then.” She holds out her hands and Mingi grabs them, allowing her to hoist him up until he’s standing. Honestly, she’s pretty proud of herself for being strong enough to do that. When he’s stable, Y/N walks him down the hall until he points to a door, and tells her it’s his bedroom. She opens the door, and quickly ushers him to sit on his double bed that takes up most of the room. She understands the need though, he would never fit in a twin bed like her own.

“Tired Mingi?” The boy yawns in response, making her laugh. She helps Mingi with taking off his shoes and jacket, and Mingi takes off his own shirt.

Oh my god. Y/N has to stop himself from saying the words out loud. She can’t help it, he’s just so so hot. Like seriously, his face was beautiful enough as it is and his body- nope she can’t even think about it without feeling like a pervert. So she quickly pulls back the covers of the bed and gestures for Mingi to lay down there. Then she pulls the blankets over him. She stays standing beside the bed.

“There’s a place downtown that makes them.” Mingi says into the blankets.

“Makes what?”

“The apples. I don’t like sweet stuff very much, but I thought they’d be nice.” He yawns, “Expensive though.”

“I thought so.” Y/N laughs, before whispering playfully, “I’m pretty sure I ate like, half of them though. Sorry about that.”

“Did you like them?”

“Very much.”

“Then it was worth it.” Mingi smiles up at the girl, before patting the side of his bed. Y/N takes the invitation and sits.

“Sorry.”

“For what?”

“Ruining your night.” Y/N smiles, and pets Mingi’s dark hair. She had already put his hat on his nightstand.

“Believe me or not, but this was the best part of my night Mingi.” And really, it was. She’s not into parties, nothing about them is appealing to her. As much as she complained about it to her friends earlier, this was a much more pleasant experience.

“Angel.”

“Yes?”

“You’re so beautiful. And kind.” Mingi lifts a hand, grabbing her arm and really underestimated his strength, pulling the girl on top of him. Letting out a yelp, Y/N plants her hands on the sides of Mingi’s head on the pillow. This leaves their faces only inches apart, and Y/N can smell the alcohol on Mingi. That makes her break eye contact with him and start to push her arms upwards. Before she can get far, Mingi cups her face with one hand, thumb under her chin and fingers splayed out on her cheek. The action puts her in such a state of shock, she doesn’t react in time to move away from him as he lifts his head up, pressing his lips to hers.

Her eyes widen and she quickly pulls away before the kiss can be considered anything more than a peck. Mingi whines when she pulls away.

“Mingi, no.”

“Why not?”

“Why not?” She parrots, frowning a little, “You don’t even know who I am.”

“You’re my Angel baby.” He grins, lets out a little laugh before surging forward, kissing her again. Her mouth opens a little in surprise at being kissed again, giving Mingi the chance to push his tongue into her mouth, the taste of cheep beer still present. And Y/N is just disillusioned enough to lean in for a moment, and she probably would have actually reciprocated if her mind was any more fogged up from a simple kiss. But she’s not about to kiss someone who can’t possibly understand what they’re doing. Maybe kiss someone more would be more accurate.

So she pulls away again, this time pushing a hand on Mingi’s chest to keep him laying down flat on the bed. Mingi groans a little, a complaint, but doesn’t say much more. Until out of nowhere, he mutters.

“We should go out tomorrow.” Only a little fazed, Y/N shakes her head at the question.

“Honey, you’re probably not going to be able to stand properly tomorrow. Just go to sleep.” She continues to pet Mingi’s head, until she’s sure that he’s asleep. Standing up, she grabs the trash can in the corner of the room and puts it next to the bed. Then she grabs a sticky note from his desk and a pen. She writes a quick note, puts it on the nightstand before leaving the room, making sure to close the door as gently as he can.

The party is dwindling down, Y/N notes. So she easily finds Seonghwa and Hongjoong.

“Where were you?” Seonghwa asks when he sees her, “I was worried sick!”

“Sorry Hwa.”

“What were you doing?” Hongjoong questions.

“Playing nurse. Are you ready to go?”

“What happened to ‘I’m not taking care of some drunk loser’?”

“I guess he changed my mind.”

“He?” Seonghwa grins, making Y/N get this sudden feeling of dread, “Who was it? Was he hot? Was he nice to you? Of course he was, you would’ve kicked him to the curb if he was mean-“ Seonghwa trips over nothing, Hongjoong just catches him.

“Careful baby.”

“Thanks Joongie.” Seonghwa leans over and kisses the younger boy. Y/N pretends to gag.

“Wait, why is your face so red?”

“Let’s just go! Please.”

“Fine. You have to tell us all about this guy though!”

“Yeah yeah.”

When Mingi wakes up, he instantly wishes to be asleep again. His head hurts, and he feels so sick he can barely move. God, he shouldn’t have drank so much last night. He sits up, only to be hit with a wave of nausea that has him nearly doubled over.

“Fuck…” he takes a few deep breaths before standing up, groaning as he does so. He notices the trash can by his bed, and wonders how he had enough sense to grab that. Yunho must have moved it for him. His jacket, shoes and shirt are off, as well as his hat. Yunho must have done that too. He takes off his shirt and puts on a pair of sweatpants before heading to the bathroom.

When he comes out, he goes to the living room where Yunho greets him.

“Hey man-“

“Shhh.” Mingi holds his head in his hands as he sits on the couch, “Too loud.” Yunho’s voice was really just barely above a whisper.

“How much did I drink yesterday?”

“I stopped counting after the second beer and the third shot.”

“I swear Yunho, I’m never getting drunk again.” He looks down at his bandaged hand, and tries to recall exactly what he did to hurt himself.

“What happened to my hand?”

“How would I know?”

“Weren’t you the one that wrapped it?” Yunho stares at him with a surprised face.

“Damn, do you really not remember anything from last night?” Mingi shrugs.

“Pretty much.”

“Well, I left around half way through with a few others to grab some beer and you insisted that you stay here. You kept on saying ‘I’m feeling great’ so I just told you to be careful and left. By the time I came back, you were tucked into bed and sleeping like the dead.” Mingi nods along, realizing he can’t rely on Yunho to fill in the blanks of his memory.

“Wait actually, I saw a note on your nightstand.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah. Didn’t read it though.”

“Okay. Can you get me some painkillers or something?”

“Sure.” Mingi goes to his bedroom and there on the nightstand, is a bright pink sticky note. He grabs it and reads the words in black ink.

Hey Mingi,

I can imagine you have quite the hangover today, you were pretty drunk last night. Make sure to clean that cut of yours and wrap it up again, though it will probably be all healed in a few days (The power of a little kiss). Maybe I’ll see you around. Anyways, take care outlaw.

Yours, Angel.

Angel. Images of a woman with no clear face fills his mind. White feathers, the feeling of warm lips on his palm and a hand running through his hair.

Mingi comes out of his room, still holding the note.

“Yunho, did you see anyone dressed as an angel yesterday?”

“It was Halloween. Many people were. Why?”

“The girl that took care of me dressed as one. But I can’t remember her name.”

“What did she look like?”

“Uhh..” Mingi sheepishly scratches the back of his neck, “She was pretty? Look, I’ll know her when I see her.”

“Does that really matter?” Yunho asks, tilting his head, “I mean, yeah, I get that she took care of you. That was very nice of her, but do you have to meet her?”

“Of course I do.” Mingi lays back down on rhe couch, closing his eyes.

“Oh my god you have a thing for her. You have a thing for a girl who’s name you do not know, you don’t know what she looks like and know nothing about her as a person.”

“Not true.” Mingi objects, “I know she’s sweet, pretty, angelic.” Mingi snorts, “Oh, and that she likes candy apples.”

“Whoa Mingi, sounds like it’s time to pop the question to Miss Angel.”

“I wish she would’ve left her number.” Mingi complains, placing a pillow over his face.

“Well, I’ll ask around if anyone knows her, but it’s gonna be hard without knowing anything about her.”

“Thanks Yunho.”

“I’m heading to class, you staying in?” Mingi nods slightly, “Thought so. Painkillers are in the kitchen.”

“Thanks Yunho. See ya.”

“Later.”

The next day, Mingi actually does go to school. He was hoping that miraculously, Angel would be in one of his classes. Unfortunately, this was not the case for him. Yunho, like he said, mentioned her to some people but at last, no luck. Really though, he didn’t expect more. At the moment, he’s at a cafe near campus with Hongjoong and San, doing a little group review.

“Where’s your other half?” San questions Hongjoong, wondering where the older boy is.

“He’s in the library.”

“And you left him alone?” Hongjoong rolls his eyes.

“I would’ve followed, but Seonghwa said that I couldn’t since he and ratchet were studying for biology I think.”

“Ratchet?” Mingi questions.

“Y/N. Seonghwa’s nursing friend.”

“That is so mean of you.” San says, shaking his head at Hongjoong nicknaming this poor girl after a crazy murderous nurse. Mingi finds the name a little familiar, but he can’t put his finger on it, so he doesn’t question it.

“You weren’t in class yesterday.” San states.

“Yeah, i had this massive hangover. Felt dead.”

“What happened with your hand?”

“I don’t remember, but I think I cut it on a piece of glass or something.”

“Damn, you really were wasted.” Mingi can only agree.

“Please please please please-“

“Seonghwa.”

“Y/N please just tell me about this guy.” Seonghwa begs, shaking Y/N’s shoulders. She was supposed to tell him on the way home from the party, but he fell asleep right away. And yesterday they were too busy, “You don’t even need to tell me who it was.”

“Fine.” Y/N relents, shutting her text book, “He was tall, handsome and sweet.”

“Oh!” Seonghwa puts his hands over his heart, “All one could want in a man.”

“You only have two of the three.” Seonghwa kicks her but is still laughing.

“He asked if he could go out with me?”

“What? You said yes right?” Y/N shrugs.

“I didn’t say anything. It was just talk anyways. He was drunk.”

“Either way, you should have left your number with him.”

“No point, he didn’t even know my name. Just called me Angel the whole night.”

“That is so cute but unhelpful.” Seonghwa sighs, “What did you guys even do?” She tells her friend about the boy cutting himself by accident and having to clean up his cut, and tuck him into bed.

“So cute.” He analyzes his friend for another moment, “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar. I can tell. What’s up?” Y/N dramatically groans and puts her heads in her hands, mumbling her words, “Excuse me?”

“We may have… kissed.”

“You kissed!” Seonghwa exclaims, Y/N is quick to shush him.

“Shut up!”

“Sorry this is just crazy to me.”

“What is? That guys only want to kiss me when they’re drunk?”

“Ha. Who initiated it?”

“Him obviously.”

“Come on! Give me the details.” Y/N can’t refuse.

“He kissed me, I said that was irresponsible, he kissed me again and fell asleep like five minutes after.” Seonghwa aw’s as Y/N dramatically rests her head on her arms.

“Wait, is this not cute? Were you not okay with it? If not, I’ll find him and beat him up.” Y/N looks up at him, “Fine, Hongjoong will beat him up.” A long pause, “Jongho will beat him up.”

“There you go. But no, it was… fine? Really, If he was sober, I probably would have actually kissed him back.” Though if he was sober, she’s sure neither of them would have paid the other any mind whatsoever.

“You know if you tell me his name I could probably find him and you set you guys up.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Noo.” Seonghwa pulls the girl into a hug, “We love you.”

“If you do, can we stop talking about this and study.”

“Fine. I have to go soon though, I said I’d meet up with Hongjoong later. Would you like to accompany us?”

“Ew.”

“You won’t be saying that when you and mystery boy get together. We can go on a double date!”

“Stop pushing your couple agenda on me.”

After a few hours of studying at the café, the two boys start to back up their bags to leave. San has already left. They hear the bell at the door ring, and Mingi’s sees Seonghwa make his way towards the table.

“Hey Joongie.” Seonghwa greets Hongjoong, leaning down to kiss his cheek before saying hi to Mingi.

“How are you guys?” He asks while sitting down.

“Good.” “Slightly hungover.” Seonghwa snorts at Mingi’s comment. But his laughter stops when he sees the bandage on Mingi’s hand.

“Hey, what happened with your hand?” Mingi looks down at his hand.

“I think I cut it on something, but I don’t really remember.”

“Huh.” Seonghwa hums for a moment before his eyes lighten up.

“Mingi, do you remember anything from your party?”

“A little bit yeah, why?”

“Did you spend anytime with a girl there? She-“

“Angel?” Mingi asks, wide eyed. He was planning to ask Hongjoong about her before they left.

“She was dressed as an Angel yes!” Seonghwa claps his hands in joy, “I’m so smart, I thought this would take longer to figure out.”

“Ohh.” Hongjoong says, just clueing in, “Mingi was the guy Y/N watched over at the party? Man, you didn’t tell me that.”

“I didn’t know who she was! I was gonna ask you if you knew a girl dressed as an angel.”

“Small world.” Seonghwa smiles, “She said you asked her out, is that true?”

“I really don’t know, sorry Hwa.” Mingi runs a hand through his hair, “But I’d love to actually meet her, thank her in person at least. Could you give me her number?” Seonghwa shakes his head.

“No, she’d be upset if I did that.” Patting the table, Seonghwa thinks, “but… if you did happen to run into her outside class, well that would be fate.”

“Would you?”

“I’ll text you her next class right now.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. You’d be good together.”

“What?”

“Let’s go Hwa, bye Mingi.” Hongjoong and Seonghwa leave, and Mingi choses to ignore Seonghwa’s comment.

He leaves the café and starts walking back to his place. The street he’s on has a ton of little shops and bakeries, so he window shops a little as he makes his way. The a sight makes him stop. There in the window, is a display case of different candy apples. A picture plays in his mind, of a pretty girl in an Angel costume eating the candied fruit in his kitchen. His phone buzzes from his pocket, and he pulls it out and sees a text from Seonghwa. He texted the younger the building, classroom number, as well as the start and end times.

Are you sure she won’t mind?

It’s fine! Tell her I sent you

I’m glad I can blame you

Great. Have fun ;)

Mingi looks at the display case again, before stepping inside.

I hate kinesiology Y/N thinks as she steps out of her classroom. She makes her way out of the building, weaving through the crowd of people. When she’s outside, just a few meters away from the building door, she feels someone tap her shoulder. Turning around, she sees a sight she wasn’t expecting to see so soon.

“Mingi?”

“Hi Angel.” Mingi grins with a small blush on his face, one hand held behind his back.

“Isn’t this a surprise.” Y/N can’t help but smile.

“Yeah, um, I just wanted to thank you for taking such good care of me the other night. You didn’t have to.” Y/N shakes her head, waving a hand in the air.

“No problem. I’m surprised you remember me.” Mingi blushes more, and shifts his feet.

“Well, I kinda didn’t. But I saw your note and remembered a girl dressed as an angel, but not what you looked like.”

“Hm.” Y/N hums, and crosses her arms, shifting her weight to her right leg, “Disappointed?”

“God no.” Mingi answers immediately, “You’re pretty.”

“You said that.”

“Did I?”

“Multiple times. Thank you. How do you know who I am though? If you didn’t know what I looked like.” Mingi looks a little flustered and avoids eye contact.

“I ran into Seonghwa and he figured that you were the one who took care of me because of, well, this.” He lifts his own bandaged hand, “He told me your name and that you were here and that your class would be ending around this time so I came by to see if I could catch you. And I knew I would recognize you once I saw you. Even without the wings.” He spoke so fast, Y/N barely caught all of his words.

“I see. How’s the hand?”

“Good, uh, I was wondering what you meant, by your note?”

“The kiss comment?” Y/N laughs uncomfortably, pulling at the ends of her hair, “Well, um, you did ask me to kiss your hand better…”

“And?”

“You- don’t be upset please- you did kiss me. Twice.” Mingi looks ready to combust from the embarrassment he’s feeling.

“I did? Fuck, Y/N I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. You were-“

“Please don’t say I was drunk. That’s no fucking excuse.” Y/N smiles softly.

“Fine. I forgive you.” Mingi laughs.

“You shouldn’t give in so easily. Here.” He pulls the box from behind his back and presents the caramel apple to her.

“For you.” He tells her, watching as the girl gives him an expression of pure joy.

“You-“ Y/N starts, taking the boxed caramel apple from Mingi’s hand, “Are the sweetest.” It seems that Mingi remembered a little more than she thought.

“Seonghwa said that I apparently asked you out.” Y/N nods in agreement, Mingi takes a deep breath, “I wanted to let you know that the question is still open, I’d love to go out with you.” Silence is all he gets in response. He feels a sense of dread in his stomach, but that soon leaves when he actually looks at the girl to see that she looks… flustered?

“Really? Um, yeah that- that would be nice.”

“And…” Mingi takes a breath, stepping closer to the girl. He slowly lifts his hand and rests it in the nape of her neck.

“If it’s not too much to ask, could I get a little reminder of what I forgot?” Blood rushes to Y/N’s ears and her heart beats faster. She brings her hands to his shoulders, grabbing onto the fabric of his shirt.

“I suppose I can.” Mingi leans down and brings his face close to the girl. Before his lips can meet hers though, Y/N covers his mouth with her hand, “Not now.” Mingi grabs her wrist and kisses the palm of her hand.

“After an actual date.” Where I don’t witness you throw up. She doesn’t say that know. She doesn’t want to embarrass him too much just yet. With a quick motion of his wrist, Mingi links their hands and brings them down.

“Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“On a date. Duh.” Y/N grins.

“Aw, our first, completely sober date!”

“I’m never drinking that much again.”

When Halloween rolled around the next year, Mingi did, in fact, drink that much again. It’s okay though, he still had an angel to take care of him.

[bombuni]

contains: soft jongho

“No.”

“No what?”

Jongho knows his firm words have not penetrated your emotional wall one bit. Realistically he could never deny you of anything, the use of the word ‘no’ with you completely foreign to him. But this time he just wants the future benefit of being able to say ‘I told you so.’

You hold the raggedy looking kitten in your arms as it eats out of the spoon Jongho holds out in front of it. Its mouth moves a mile a minute. He thinks it’s frighteningly tiny, quite ugly and smelly too. But you’re holding it like it’s a darling, million-dollar jewel with pure love in your eyes and he can’t help but be smitten with everything that is about you, you, you.

You wave it’s black paw towards Jongho, the smile on your face glowing, “Say hello, daddy,”

Jongho wants to grimace and deny you, but a laugh breaks loose out of him, “I am no one’s daddy,”

You raise a brow at that, and he already knows you’re going to say something stupid, so he shuts you up with a kiss to your forehead and takes the black furball out of your hands. It looks comedically small against Jongho’s larger frame, but he holds it like a gentle flower and you’re sure the kitten’s alright.

“We will keep him for one night,” your squeal of joy makes Jongho smile, “But, we’re not naming him, ok? And he’s going away in the morning time,” He doesn’t look up at you once while he’s talking and you’re sure your bribery to keep the kitten is working, despite what he may say.

“But look at him, honey,” you pout up at him, “So sad. So alone in the little cardboard box I found him in, you should’ve seen it,”

Jongho scrunches his nose, a scrutinizing look pointed at you, “You probably kidnapped him,”

You feign offense, “Did not! Someone totally abandoned him,”

He hums, too focused on the sound of the now sleeping kitten’s purrs. You lean your head on his shoulder, arms winding around his waist. He wants to laugh at how you’re seriously looking at the kitten like you’ve been waiting 9 months for it, but he’s suffocating on his adoration for you. He forgets that your sensitivity and gentleness is something that’s reserved for him. He forgets what a rare, beautiful sight you are. He forgets how big his love for you is, but good thing you’re here to remind him.

He speaks softly, “We should name him Bear.”

bom note: sorry i’m madly in love with jongho. as if it’s my fault. reqs are open :>

[artemisislazy]

ONE-SHOT- 1

SUGARY SWEET

(Yandere boyfriend x reader)

female reader insert

Sypnosis: In his arms, sweetness unfolds like a perfect melody, each kiss a taste of pure bliss – like savoring the sweetest candy. His caring nature is a constant, but why do some try to sour what we have?

I want to make it clear that I do not endorse any yandere behavior or toxic relationships in any form. My creative works are purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only.

Warning: Obsessive/Possessive behavior

---

The apartment was cozy, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the faint aroma of pine from a small Christmas-scented candle flickering on the table. The tabby cat, purred contentedly in your lap as you scratched behind its ears, your soft laughter filling the room.

"You've got a really clingy cat, Zane," you teased, looking up at him with a grin. "Whiskers practically refuses to leave me alone."

Zane leaned against the counter, his dark hair slightly tousled and his sharp blue eyes focused on you. "He's just got good taste. Can't say I blame him," he replied with a small smirk, though there was a softness in his tone.

You rolled your eyes, chuckling. "Right, good taste. Or maybe it's just that I always bring him those treats he loves."

"Bribery works wonders," Zane said, crossing his arms. "But don't get too comfortable. He'll abandon you the second I bring out his favorite tuna."

As you both talked, you kept glancing at your phone, your fingers nervously tapping the screen. Zane noticed the subtle shift in your expression every time the screen lit up without a notification. He raised an eyebrow. "Waiting for something? Or someone?"

You hesitated, your fingers pausing mid-scratch on Whiskers' back. "Oh, just my boyfriend," you said lightly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "He said he'd text me when he's free."

For a moment, Zane froze. The words hit him like a silent blow, and his heart tightened. He quickly schooled his expression, though a flicker of something-disappointment, perhaps even longing-passed through his eyes. "Ah, I see," he said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Lucky guy."

You laughed softly, the sound tinged with affection. "He's sweet. Always busy, though. I guess that's why I'm so attached to Whiskers. He's better company sometimes."

Zane crouched beside you, pretending to adjust Whiskers' collar, but really just to be closer. "If he keeps you waiting like this, maybe he's not doing his job right," he said with a teasing edge. His voice was casual, but the words carried an undercurrent of something deeper.

You nudged his shoulder lightly. "Zane, don't start. He's just got a lot on his plate. I understand."

"Mm," he murmured, his gaze drifting to your face. The way your lips curved into a small smile, the way your eyes softened when you spoke of your boyfriend-it was painfully beautiful. "You're too patient for your own good, you know that?"

"Patience is a virtue," you quipped, giving him a knowing look.

"Yeah, but it's also exhausting," he shot back with a grin, standing and ruffling your hair. "Anyway, if he keeps you waiting much longer, I'm claiming you and Whiskers for a movie night."

You laughed, swatting his hand away. "Deal. But only if you promise popcorn."

"Done," he said, his smile genuine this time, though the ache in his chest lingered as he watched her glance at your phone again.

As you continued talking, your phone buzzed on the coffee table. Your face lit up as you glanced at the caller ID. "Oh, it's Mich!" you said, your voice tinged with excitement. A soft smile played on your lips as you picked up the phone, your thumb hovering briefly over the screen before you answered.

"Hey!" you greeted warmly, you tone shifting into something softer, sweeter.

Zane's heart sank. He forced a smile, leaning back against the counter, trying to focus on Whiskers as the cat brushed against his leg. But his eyes betrayed him, flickering back to you as you mouthed a quiet, "Bye," to him. You gestured toward the door, already halfway out of the apartment before he could think of anything to say.

He wanted to stop you. He wanted to ask you to stay, to tell you that maybe you didn't need to rush off to Michael, to tell you how he felt. But the words died in his throat. Instead, he simply stood there, frozen, as you closed the door softly behind you.

The faint sound of your laughter drifted back through the thin walls as you walked down the hallway, leaving Zane alone in the room with only Whiskers for company.

__

The soft hum of the car filled the space as you sat in the passenger seat, a gentle smile on your face as the city lights blurred past. Michael's hands rested effortlessly on the wheel, his silver hair catching the faint glow from the streetlamps. His turquoise eyes, vivid and almost luminous, glanced at you from time to time, a warm, easygoing charm in every look.

You wore a flowy, lavender knee-length dress that swayed slightly every time you shifted in your seat, paired with white sandals and a delicate pearl bracelet around your wrist. Yoir makeup was minimal but radiant, enhancing your natural beauty. Michael, as always, was impeccably dressed, wearing a tailored white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a sleek black vest, and dark slacks. A subtle silver watch glinted on his wrist, completing his gentlemanly look.

"So," he began, his voice smooth yet teasing, "you've been spending a lot of time with Zane lately. Should I be worried about this mysterious neighbor and his cat?"

You chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Oh, stop it. You're not jealous of Whiskers, are you?"

"Maybe I am," he said, mock-pouting as he briefly glanced your way. "You keep talking about how cuddly he is, how soft his fur is. What about me, huh? Don't I deserve some attention too?"

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. "Mich, Whiskers is a cat. You're my boyfriend. There's no competition."

"I don't know," he said, feigning a wounded expression. "You're spending all this time with Zane and his cat, and here I am, waiting for you to give me cuddles. It's unfair."

"Oh, you're so dramatic," you said, rolling [eye color] eyes playfully. "Zane's just a friend. And Whiskers is adorable! You should see him, Mich. He's got these big green eyes and this little pink nose. He's like a stuffed animal come to life."

Michael chuckled, shaking his head. "Maybe I should get a cat too. Would that earn me extra brownie points?"

"...Or maybe I'll just have to charm you the old-fashioned way."

"And how's that?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Dinner at the best restaurant in town," he said confidently, "and maybe dessert after, if you're not too full. You know, the gentlemanly stuff."

Your smile softened. "You're already charming enough, Mich. You don't have to try so hard."

He glanced at your again, his turquoise eyes glinting with affection. "I'd try harder if it meant seeing that smile a little more often."

You flushed slightly, looking away. "You're impossible."

"Impossible and yours," he replied smoothly.

As the car slowed in front of the restaurant, Michael stepped out first, rounding the car to open your door. "Shall we, my lady?" he asked, offering his hand with a playful bow.

Laughing, you took it. "We shall."

__

The restaurant was an upscale place, softly lit with golden chandeliers and flickering candles on every table. The gentle hum of conversations and the clinking of cutlery created a cozy, romantic atmosphere. You and Michael were seated by a window, the city lights shimmering in the backdrop. The table was neatly set with pristine white linen, a small vase of red roses, and polished silverware.

Michael rested his elbow on the table, his turquoise eyes fixed on you as you adjusted the hem of your lavender dress. "You look stunning tonight," he said, his voice low and warm, like honey.

You glanced up at him, your cheeks immediately turning pink under his gaze. "Oh, stop," you said with a shy laugh, brushing a hand over [hair color] hair.

"I'm serious," he insisted, his eyes tracing your face. "That dress suits you so well. And the way you smile... it's hard not to stare."

Your blush deepened, and you looked down, fiddling with the bracelet on your wrist. "You're impossible sometimes, you know that?"

He chuckled, leaning forward slightly. "I get that a lot."

As you tried to think of a response, he shifted closer, his expression softening. His lips quirked into a teasing smile as he leaned down, his face now just inches from yours. Your eyes widened slightly, realizing his intent. "Mich," you whispered, glancing around nervously. "There are people watching."

"So?" he murmured, the corner of his lips lifting into a playful smirk. "Let them."

Before you could protest further, he tilted your chin up gently with his fingers, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. His lips met yours in a soft, lingering kiss, tender yet deliberate. You froze for a moment, aware of the subtle murmurs around them, but his touch melted your hesitation.

It was supposed to end there-a simple kiss-but Michael had other plans. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his lips moved more insistently against yours. You gasped softly, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue brushing against your lips before slipping inside.

The world around you seemed to blur as his tongue explored yours, the kiss growing hotter with every second. His hand tangled in your hair, keeping you close, while his other rested lightly on the table, steadying himself. Your fingers clutched his sleeve, torn between pulling

The dishes arrived, beautifully plated and steaming with delicious aromas. You couldn’t help but admire the presentation of your roasted chicken with creamy mashed potatoes, while Michael’s steak looked equally mouthwatering. The soft glow of the candlelight between both of you made everything feel warm and intimate, as if the rest of the restaurant didn’t exist.

As you picked up her fork, Michael leaned forward with a boyish grin. “Wait,” he said, spearing a piece of his steak with his fork. He held it out to you. “You have to try this first.”

You giggled, your eyes sparkling. “You always do this.”

“And you love it,” he teased, his turquoise eyes playful. “Now, come on, say ‘ah.’”

Rolling your eyes but smiling, you leaned forward and took the bite. The rich, savory flavor made you hum softly. “Mmm, that’s really good!” you said, your face lighting up.

  “Told you,” he said smugly, before nudging your plate. “Your turn.”

“Fine,” you said, cutting a piece of your chicken. You held it up for him, watching as he leaned in with exaggerated enthusiasm. He took the bite, chewing thoughtfully before giving a satisfied nod.

“Okay, I’ll admit it,” he said, pointing his fork at you. “Yours might be better.”

You laughed. “See? I win.”

The two of you continued your playful exchange, occasionally sneaking bites from each other’s plates and laughing over small spills and silly banter. The waiter passed by with an amused glance, but neither of you noticed—you both were too wrapped up in your little world. At one point, Michael reached across the table and placed his hand gently over yours. The warmth of his touch made you pause, your fork halfway to your mouth. You looked up to see him staring at you with a softness that took your breath away.

“You know,” he began, his voice low and sincere, “sometimes I just can’t believe how lucky I am.”

Your cheeks flushed as you tried to deflect. “Oh, come on, Mich. Don’t be cheesy.”

“I’m serious,” he insisted, his thumb lightly brushing over your knuckles. “I mean, look at you. You’re gorgeous, kind, smart, and you’re here with me. Out of all the people in the world, you chose me.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you looked down, suddenly shy. “Michael…” you murmured, your voice soft.

“I mean it,” he said, leaning forward. “You’ve made me the happiest guy alive, and I don’t know how I got so lucky, but I’m never letting you go.”

Before you could respond, he leaned across the table and gave you a quick, tender peck on the lips. You blinked in surprise, your cheeks turning pink again as you glanced around.

“Mich!” you whispered.

He smirked, sitting back in his chair. “Shush, I’m just showing everyone how much I love my girl.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yours,” he added with a wink, making your heart melt all over again.

__

The hallway was quiet as you stepped out of the elevator, carrying a medium-sized delivery box in your arms. Your steps echoed slightly against the tiled floors as you neared your apartment door.

Just as you reached into your pocket for your keys, Zane’s door creaked open, and he stepped out. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and he had a cheerful smile on his face as he spotted you. “Hey, [Name]!” he called, his voice warm and friendly.

You looked up, startled for a second, before returning his smile. “Oh, hi, Zane,” you replied. “How’s it going?”

“Pretty good,” he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. His blue eyes flicked to the box in your arms. “Delivery day, huh? Anything exciting?”

“Not really,” you chuckled. “Just some skincare stuff I ordered. You know, the essentials.”

“Essentials,” he repeated with a teasing smirk. “Right. Always important to keep glowing.”

You laughed softly and adjusted the box in your arms. “Exactly. Gotta keep the glow alive.”

As you chatted, Zane tilted his head slightly, his expression turning more curious. “By the way,” he started, “did you see my message from last night?”

Your brows furrowed slightly as you thought back. “Message?” you repeated, your voice tinged with confusion. “Oh, no, I didn’t see it. I was out last night with Mich, and, um…” you hesitated, feeling a bit guilty. “My phone’s battery died. I didn’t even check it this morning. Sorry about that.”

Zane’s smile faltered for just a second—so brief it was barely noticeable. But there was something in his eyes, a flicker of annoyance, before he masked it with his usual cheerfulness. “Ah, I see,” he said lightly. “No big deal.”

There was a pause, a subtle tension lingering between you both, before he cleared his throat and straightened up. “So, are you free today?” he asked casually, his tone almost too nonchalant. “I thought maybe we could hang out or something. Catch up.”

Your face fell slightly, and you shifted the box in your arms. “Oh, um… I’d love to, but I already made plans with Mich,” you said, your tone genuinely apologetic. “I’m so sorry, Zane.”

For a moment, his jaw tightened, and his gaze flicked away. He mumbled something under his breath, too quiet for you to catch, but you noticed the slight clench of his fists at his sides. Then, just as quickly, he relaxed, forcing another smile onto his face.

  “No worries,” he said, though there was a strained edge to his voice. “How about tomorrow, then? You’ve gotta be free tomorrow, right?”

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. Before you could say anything, Zane leaned closer, his blue eyes locking onto yours. “You’ll come tomorrow,” he said, his tone firm yet oddly playful, as if it wasn’t really a question. “You have to. No excuses.”

Your lips parted in surprise, but before you could form a reply, he stepped back, waving a hand dismissively. “Anyway, see you tomorrow,” he said with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Without waiting for your response, he turned and disappeared back into his apartment, the door clicking shut behind him.

You stood there for a moment, staring at his closed door with a puzzled expression. “What just happened?” you muttered to yourself, shifting the box again. Something about Zane’s behavior felt... off. He was always cheerful and easygoing, but...

Shaking off the uneasy feeling, you let out a small sigh and turned back to your own door. As you unlocked it and stepped inside.

__

The café buzzed with the low hum of conversations and the soft clinking of ceramic cups against saucers. The warm, cozy interior was filled with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods. You stepped in, your outfit a simple yet elegant combination of a cream knit sweater tucked into a short, flowy beige skirt that swayed slightly with your every step. Your ankle boots clicked softly against the wooden floor as you scanned the room, spotting Zane at a corner table by the window.

Zane looked up, and the moment his eyes landed on you, his breath hitched. You looked effortlessly beautiful, the soft sunlight streaming through the window highlighting your features. A faint blush crept up his cheeks, and he quickly adjusted his posture, trying to look casual despite his racing heart.

  “[Name]!” he called out cheerfully, standing up to greet you. “You look... really nice today.”

You smiled warmly. “Thanks, Zane. Sorry if I kept you waiting.”

“Not at all,” he said quickly, pulling out the chair for you like a perfect gentleman. As you sat down, he couldn’t help but steal a glance at you, his gaze lingering a little too long.

You both ordered your drinks and snacks—you went for your usual [favorite drink] and a [favorite snack/dessert], while Zane opted for a cappuccino and a slice of chocolate cake. The conversation began lightheartedly as you waited for your order. Zane was more animated than usual, his voice tinged with an almost childlike excitement as he spoke about random topics.

“You wouldn’t believe it,” he said, grinning. “Whiskers knocked over a whole glass of water on my laptop last night. I swear, that cat has it out for me.”

You laughed, your eyes crinkling at the corners. “Maybe he’s just trying to tell you to pay more attention to him.”

“Yeah, well, he’s not the only one,” Zane said softly, almost to himself.

You blinked, tilting your head slightly. “Hmm?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, shaking his head. Just then, your drinks and snacks arrived, and he used the opportunity to refocus the conversation.

As you continued to chat, Zane’s hand slowly slid across the table, brushing against yours. The light touch made you shiver involuntarily, and you froze for a moment, [eye color] eyes darting down to where your hands touched.

“Zane…” you started, confused, but when you looked up, you found him staring at you intensely. His blue eyes seemed to bore into yours, filled with emotions you couldn’t quite decipher.

He took a deep breath, his voice trembling slightly as he finally said, “I need to tell you something, [Name].”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What is it?”

“I love you,” he confessed, his words hanging in the air like a heavy weight. “I’ve loved you for so long, and I can’t keep it to myself anymore.”

Your eyes widened in shock, and you pulled your hand away instinctively. “Zane… what are you saying?”

He leaned forward, his expression a mix of frustration and vulnerability. “I’ve watched you with him, [Name], and it drives me crazy. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, but you’re with Michael, and—” He clenched his fists, his voice trembling. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

Your confusion quickly turned to anger. “Zane, stop it. This isn’t fair. Michael is my boyfriend, and I love him.”

“But you shouldn’t,” Zane snapped, his voice rising slightly before he forced himself to calm down. “You don’t see it, [Name]. He’s not the man you think he is. He’s manipulating you, controlling you in ways you don’t even realize.”

Your jaw tightened, and you shook your head. “What are you talking about? Michael is nothing but kind and loving to me.”

Zane’s expression turned desperate. “You’re blinded by him. I see the way he acts, the way he always wants to keep you to himself. It’s not love, [Name], it’s control. You deserve better—someone who loves you for who you are, not for how you make them look.”

You stood abruptly, your hands trembling as your emotions bubbled to the surface. “Stop it, Zane. Just stop. You don’t know anything about Mich, and you don’t get to talk about my relationship like that.”

He reached out as if to grab your hand, but you stepped back. “I do know, [Name]. Because I love you, and I see you—really see you. I just want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me. But with him… it’s not real.”

Your anger boiled over, and before you could stop yourself, your hand connected with his cheek in a sharp slap. The sound echoed through the café, drawing the attention of a few nearby patrons. Zane’s head snapped to the side, his eyes wide in shock, but he didn’t say a word.

You were breathing heavily, your hands clenched at your sides as you glared at him. “How dare you?” you hissed. “You don’t get to tell me who I should or shouldn’t love. You don’t know anything about us.”

Slowly, Zane turned back to face you, a sad smirk playing on his lips. “I expected that,” he said softly, his voice calm despite the red mark blooming on his cheek. “It’s okay. I know this is shocking for you because you love him so much. But I’m telling you the truth, [Name]. You’ll see it one day. I just… I had to say it, because I love you too much not to.”

Your resolve wavered for a moment, confusion and guilt flickering in your eyes, but you quickly pushed it aside. “I need to go,” you said abruptly, grabbing your bag.

Zane didn’t stop you this time. He simply watched as you turned and walked away, his smile fading into a look of quiet despair. As the door swung shut behind you, he leaned back in his chair, his fingers brushing over the faint sting on his cheek.

“Well,” he murmured to himself, staring down at his untouched coffee. “At least I tried.”

__

The days following the café incident felt heavy for you. Every time you stepped out of your apartment, you found yourself cautiously peeking around corners, hoping not to run into Zane. Living in the same building, it was almost impossible to avoid him entirely, and when your paths did cross, your heart would clench with a mix of guilt and unease.

You hadn’t expected his confession, nor the accusations he’d hurled at Michael. Though you'd dismissed Zane’s claims as ridiculous at the time, his words lingered in your mind like an unwelcome guest. Could there be some truth to what he said? You hated yourself for even entertaining the thought. Michael had always been perfect—kind, loving, and gentle. Yet, Zane’s desperate eyes and trembling voice haunted you.

Late one evening, as you were returning from a quick grocery run, you saw him. Zane was leaning against the wall near the elevator, scrolling on his phone. Your pulse quickened as you debated whether to take the stairs instead, but it was too late. His head lifted, and his blue eyes locked onto yours.

“[Name],” the male greeted softly, pushing himself off the wall. His expression was unreadable, but you thought you saw a flicker of hope in his gaze.

“Zane,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. Your grip on the grocery bag tightened as you quickly pressed the elevator button, silently willing it to arrive faster.

“Hey, can we talk?” he asked, taking a hesitant step toward.

You stiffened, your thoughts scrambling for an excuse. “I… I’m sorry, Zane. I’m in a hurry. I… have something to do,” you mumbled, not even making eye contact.

“[Name], please,” he pressed, his tone gentle but firm. “You’ve been avoiding me for days.”

You turned to him, finally meeting his gaze, and your heart sank. There was no anger or frustration in his eyes—only sadness and something else. You felt your throat tighten.

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly, your voice trembling. “I… I shouldn’t have slapped you. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” he interrupted, his lips curving into a faint, sad smile. “I deserved it.”

The elevator doors dinged open, and you stepped inside hastily. “I’ll talk to you later,” you said hurriedly, avoiding his gaze again.

“Yeah,” Zane murmured as the doors slid shut. “Later.”

__

The soft hum of the city filled the air as you sat beside Michael in his car, staring blankly out of the window. He had taken you out for a casual drive to cheer you up, but your mind was elsewhere. Your fingers toyed with the hem of your dress, your thoughts looping back to Zane. It had been nearly a week since you last saw him. His apartment had been eerily quiet—no sound of his laughter, no meowing from Whiskers, no signs of life.

“[Name],” Michael’s gentle voice pulled you from your trance. You turned to see him glancing at you, his turquoise eyes filled with concern. “You’ve been really quiet. Is everything alright?”

You forced a small smile, hoping to hide the unease you felt. “I’m fine,” you replied, your voice softer than usual.

Michael frowned but didn’t push further. “If something’s bothering you, you know you can tell me, right?”

You nodded, your gaze dropping to your lap. “I know. Really, I’m okay.”

But you weren’t okay. Your chest felt tight with worry. Zane’s absence gnawed at you. You tried convincing yourself that he might have gone on a trip or was simply avoiding you, but a nagging voice in your head whispered otherwise. The idea of something being wrong wouldn’t leave you alone.

When you got home that evening, the silence in the hallway outside Zane’s apartment was deafening. You knocked softly, hoping for any response, but none came. Even Whiskers, who often pawed at the door, was nowhere to be seen.

Desperate, you pulled out your phone and dialed his number. It rang once before an automated voice informed you the number was out of service.

Your heart sank. Where was he? And why did this feel so wrong?

__

Just as you set your phone down with a sigh, it buzzed again. A message from Michael lit up your screen, the familiar warmth in his words immediately soothing your nerves.

--

My love <3

hey, dw about it too much.

Maybe Zane's on a little vacation or something, he'll be back soon

why don’t u come over for a sleepover tonight?

we can watch some movies, eat junk food aaand relax. Might cheer u up.

7:28 pm

--

A small smile tugged at your lips as you reread the message. Michael always had a way of knowing how to comfort you, even when you didn’t voice your worries. The idea of escaping the eerie quietness of your building and spending time with him felt like exactly what you needed.

Your fingers moved quickly across the screen as you replied:

--

You

dat sounds perfect. I’ll come over in an hour! >-<

My love <3

great! I’ll get the popcorn and snacks ready

can’t wait to see u

--

The thought of the cozy evening ahead brought a sense of relief that you hadn’t felt all week. You could already picture Michael’s charming smile as he handed you a blanket, the two of you laughing over a silly rom-com or debating which classic action movie to watch next.

You set your phone down, the tension in your chest easing slightly. Maybe Michael was right. Zane was probably fine, just taking some time away. And with Michael’s care and attention, you could let yourself relax, even if only for a little while.

With a renewed sense of calm, you began gathering a few things for the sleepover, your smile growing as you thought about how lucky you were to have someone like Michael in your life.

__

You sat beside him, nestled under the blanket. Both of you were dressed in comfortable pajamas—your in a cute pastel set with little cloud patterns, and Michael in simple navy-blue pajamas that made his silver hair stand out even more. The scent of buttered popcorn lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of his cologne.

Michael pressed play on the next movie, glancing sideways at yoi as you absentmindedly popped a chip into your mouth. Your gaze was fixed on the laptop screen, but it was clear your mind was elsewhere. Your lips were slightly downturned, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket.

“Alright,” Michael said, pausing the movie abruptly. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

You blinked, startled, and turned to him. “What? Nothing. I’m fine,” you said quickly, offering him a small, unconvincing smile.

Michael raised an eyebrow, his turquoise eyes soft but skeptical. “Liar. You’ve been out of it all night. Come on, tell me,” he coaxed, gently wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“It’s really nothing, Mich,” you insisted, though your voice wavered slightly. “I’ve just been… thinking.”

“Thinking about Zane?” he guessed, his tone calm but concerned. When you hesitated, he sighed, pulling you closer. “It’s okay, you know. You’re allowed to care about your friends.”

“I know,” you murmured, leaning into his embrace. “I just feel guilty. I haven’t seen him in days, and his number’s not working. What if something happened?”

Michael tightened his hold on you, resting his chin on your head. “Hey, stop that. You’ll drive yourself crazy worrying about things you can’t control. Zane’s probably fine. He’s an adult; he can take care of himself,” he said gently.

You nuzzled into his chest, finding comfort in his warmth. “I guess you’re right,” you said softly, though your voice still carried traces of doubt.

Michael, sensing your lingering unease, decided to change the mood. “Alright, that’s it. You leave me no choice!” he declared dramatically.

You pulled back slightly, confused. “What are you—”

Before you could finish, he launched a playful attack, peppering your face with kisses. You squealed, trying to shield yourself, but he was relentless. His hands found your sides, and he began tickling you mercilessly.

“Mich!” you laughed, trying to squirm away. “Stop! Stop, I can’t breathe!”

“Not until I see that beautiful smile of yours,” he teased, his own laughter filling the room.

You finally collapsed onto the bed, breathless and laughing, your cheeks flushed. “Y-you’re impossible,” you said, swatting at him half-heartedly.

“And you love it,” he replied with a smug grin, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

As you lay there, your laughter fading into a soft smile, you realized how lucky you were to have someone like Michael—a person who could make you forget your worries, even if just for a little while.

Michael hovered over you, propping himself up on his elbows. His silver hair fell slightly into his face, and his turquoise eyes locked onto yours, sparkling with an intensity that made your heart race. The playful atmosphere shifted subtly, replaced by something warmer, deeper.

"Hey," he whispered, his voice soft but teasing, "you look so beautiful right now. You know that?"

Your cheeks flushed a delicate pink, and you tried to look away, but he gently tilted your chin back to meet his gaze. Before you could respond, he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. It was soft at first, a sweet and gentle kiss, like the taste of the candies you'd shared earlier. Your heart fluttered, and you closed your eyes, melting into him.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you again. "Once," he murmured, a playful glint in his eyes, before leaning down to kiss you again.

"Twice," he said softly, as his lips brushed yours once more.

"Thrice," he whispered, and this time, the kiss lingered, deeper and more consuming.

You couldn't help but giggle against his lips. "Mich, you're counting?"

"I like keeping track of how many times I get to taste you," he replied with a smirk, his voice low and full of affection.

Your shyness grew as he leaned down again, but this time his lips didn't just stop at yours. He nuzzled your cheek, his warm breath tickling your skin, and before you knew it, his tongue flicked playfully against your face.

"Michael!" You squealed, half embarrassed and half laughing, trying to hide your face with your hands. He chuckled, catching your wrists gently and pinning them beside your head. "What? You're too sweet, I couldn't help myself," he teased, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose.

You turned your head to the side, trying to gather yourself, but his lips found their way back to yours. This time, your hesitation melted away, and you kissed him back, your hands instinctively slipping free and tangling in his soft silver hair.

The kisses deepened, slow and intoxicating.

Michael's lips trailed down from your mouth to your chin, leaving a path of warm, lingering kisses. He paused, his turquoise eyes glinting with affection as he dipped lower, his lips brushing softly against your neck. Your breath hitched at the sensation, a quiet, involuntary moan escaping your lips as he pressed gentle pecks along your skin.

"Oh, Michael," you whispered, your fingers instinctively clutching at his shirt.

He smirked against your neck, his kisses slowing as if savoring your reaction. "You're so adorable," he murmured, his voice low and velvety.

"I could do this forever."

He gently took your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pressed your hands against the soft sheets. His lips hovered near her ear, his breath warm, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice soft yet firm. “So beautiful, so sweet... I can’t get enough of you.”

You swallowed, your heart pounding as you turned your head slightly, your cheek brushing against his. “Michael…” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled, pressing a slow, lingering kiss just below your ear. “I love the way you say my name,” he whispered. “Say it again.”

You blushed, squeezing his hand. “Michael,” you repeated softly.

He hummed in approval, pressing another kiss to your temple. “That’s my girl,” he murmured. “You’re everything to me, you know that?”

Your chest tightened at his words, warmth spreading through you. “You’re everything to me too,” you admitted, your voice small but sincere.

Michael pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own filled with tenderness. “Then stay like this with me,” he said, his thumb gently brushing against your fingers. “Just for a little longer.”

__

A sharp, throbbing pain pulsed through Zane’s skull as he slowly regained consciousness. His eyelids felt heavy, his mind groggy, but as he tried to move, a cold, paralyzing realization hit him.

He couldn’t.

His arms were bound tightly to the chair, thick ropes digging into his skin. His legs were secured just as firmly. When he tried to cry out, his voice was muffled—something was covering his mouth. Tape.

Panic surged through him like ice in his veins. What the hell was going on? Where was he? His breath came in rapid gasps as his eyes darted around the dimly lit room. The air was damp, carrying a faint metallic scent, something foul and unnatural. The walls were cracked, stained with dark patches. The single overhead bulb flickered erratically, casting eerie shadows across the floor.

And then he saw them.

The pictures.

Hundreds—no, thousands—of pictures.

Plastered across the walls, scattered on the floor, covering the ceiling. Every single one of them was of you. Different angles, different moments. Some were candid shots of you walking down the street, some of you sitting in a café, some even of you sleeping. Some pictures were marked with small red hearts, while others had Xs slashed across them.

Zane’s breathing hitched. His stomach churned violently. What the actual fuck…?

The sound of a lock clicking made his blood run cold.

Footsteps. Slow. Deliberate.

The door creaked open.

And standing there, framed by the dim light spilling in from behind, was the man.

But this wasn’t the usual kind man everyone knew—the charming, gentlemanly boyfriend. No, the man standing in the doorway had wild turquoise eyes glinting with madness, his soft silver hair disheveled. His lips curled into a slow, unnerving smile, one that sent ice down Zane’s spine.

In his hands, gripped tightly, was a chainsaw.

Zane’s entire body locked in sheer terror. Michael took a step inside, the chainsaw hanging loosely in his grip as if it was just an everyday object. His head tilted slightly, his eerie grin widening.

“Oh,” Michael drawled, his voice smooth but dripping with something sinister, “you’re finally awake.”

Zane tried to scream, but the tape muffled everything. He thrashed against the ropes, his heart pounding in his ears.

Michael chuckled—a low, bone-chilling sound. “Shh,” he cooed, bringing a finger to his lips. “We don’t want to wake her, do we?”

Then, without warning, he pulled the chainsaw’s cord.

With a deafening roar, the blade came to life.

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

just a thought but sebastian and Anne are trying to get mc and sebastian' baby to come to them to prove who it likes better lots of come to daddy/auntie only for the baby to go to uncle ominis the true favorite

Picking Favorites | Sebastian Sallow x OC

THIS WAS SO FUCKIN CUTE TO WRITE AHHH THANK YOU ANON

Words: ~800

Tags: Post Canon, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff, More Fluff

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

Evangeline was not allowed in the room.

Not this time.

The last few attempts to prove who Noctua Sallow loved most had ended in swift and humiliating defeat for both Sebastian and Anne—because every single time, Evangeline and Sebastian's little girl, with her chubby cheeks and wispy dark curls, had made a beeline straight for Mummy without a second thought.

It had become so predictable that Evangeline barely had to do anything; Noctua would take one look at her, light up like a star, and immediately beeline into her arms.

It was obvious in hindsight.

How could they expect to win against the woman who carried her, fed her, soothed her, and rocked her to sleep every night? It was practically cheating.

So, for this round, they had resorted to drastic measures.

Evangeline, amused but cooperative, had been banished to the kitchen under the pretense of fetching more tea and biscuits, leaving the playing field perfectly level.

Or so they thought.

Noctua sat in the middle of the sitting room rug, blissfully unaware that she was currently the subject of an all-out war for her affection, her big hazel eyes flicking between her father and her aunt, who were crouched at opposite ends of the room.

Sebastian leaned forward, resting one hand on the floor, his other still extended toward his baby in open invitation.

“Alright, my little owl. Mummy’s not here to steal you this time, so it’s time to make the right choice.” He wiggled his fingers encouragingly, flashing the same charming, lopsided Sallow grin that had gotten him out of trouble countless times before. “Come to Daddy.”

Anne let out a very loud, very pointed scoff, rolling her shoulders like she was about to enter a dueling ring.

“Oh, please.” She waved a dismissive hand in Sebastian’s direction before tilting her head dramatically at the baby. “Noctua, sweetheart, we both know who spoils you the most.”

Her voice was pure syrup, sweet and inviting, with just a hint of smugness. She grinned, her eyes twinkling as she played her trump card.

“Come to Auntie Anne, darling. I always have biscuits, remember?”

Sebastian snapped his head toward her so fast he nearly cricked his neck.

“Bribery? Really? You’re resorting to biscuits?”

Anne smirked, utterly unbothered. “It’s called strategy, dear brother.”

Sebastian groaned, tilting his head back for a moment before shaking it off and refocusing, his face softening back into the picture of fatherly warmth.

“Noct, don’t listen to her. She’s trying to manipulate you.” He wiggled his fingers again, lowering his voice into the gentle, affectionate tone he used when rocking her to sleep. “Come to Daddy. I’m the fun one. Who gives you the best broom rides? Who lets you sit on his shoulders whenever we go outside?”

Noctua, sitting with her legs splayed out, blinked at him, then at Anne, who, not missing a beat, upped the ante.

“That’s all very nice,” she said airily, “but who makes the best silly faces?”

Without missing a beat, she scrunched up her nose, puffed out her cheeks, crossed her eyes, and stuck out her tongue, contorting her features into something truly ridiculous.

Noctua let out a delighted giggle.

Sebastian shot Anne a deeply unimpressed look. “You look like a deranged diricawl.”

Anne snapped back to her normal expression instantly, eyes sparkling with triumph.

“Who lets you tug on their hair whenever you want? Hm?” She pointed at her own head meaningfully. “Because I don’t recall your Daddy ever letting you yank his hair whenever you please.”

Sebastian scowled. “That’s because she doesn’t need to. I actually keep my daughter entertained.”

Anne smirked, unbothered. “Oh, do you?”

Sebastian doubled down.

“Who,” he said, “is the undisputed champion of animal noises?”

At this, he let out a deep, overly dramatic imitation of a Hippogriff call, complete with a ridiculous flap of his arms.

Anne’s face twisted into something that could only be described as secondhand embarrassment. “Merlin’s sake, Sebastian, you sound like a dying mandrake.”

Sebastian ignored her, keeping his gaze fixed on Noctua, who was still staring at them with fascination.

“Come on, my little owl.” His voice was full of soft, loving encouragement, a gentle push toward inevitable victory. “Just one tiny step. You know I’m your favorite.”

The room fell into a tense, eager silence.

Noctua wiggled slightly. She shifted forward onto her hands.

Anne and Sebastian tensed, barely breathing.

And then—

—Noctua turned away from both of them and speed-crawled in the complete opposite direction.

Straight toward Ominis.

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Seated in an armchair, book in hand, Ominis Gaunt had not been participating in this nonsense.

In fact, he had barely been paying attention, only half-listening to their ridiculous competition as he sipped his tea and enjoyed a moment of peace. He hadn’t even been aware he was in the running.

And yet, before he could fully process what was happening, a small, wobbly weight collided with his leg.

He blinked.

Slowly, he lowered his book—only to find Noctua clinging to his pant leg, looking up at him with pure adoration.

The corners of Ominis’ mouth twitched.

A slow, satisfied smirk curled across his face.

Sebastian and Anne remained frozen, their expressions a mirror of sheer, utter betrayal.

Evangeline, from the doorway with her tea in hand, burst into laughter as Ominis, smug and delighted by his unintentional victory, carefully lifted little Noctua onto his lap.

“…Well, well.” He ran his fingers over her tiny back as she cooed happily against him. “Looks like she’s made her choice.”

Sebastian’s jaw dropped.

“ARE YOU SERIOUS?!”

Anne groaned, throwing her arms up. “You weren’t even playing!”

Evangeline, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, shook her head. “You two were never going to win. Uncle Ominis has been the favorite all along.”

Sebastian collapsed onto his back, staring at the ceiling in defeat. “My own daughter. My own flesh and blood. Betrayed.”

Anne crossed her arms, scowling. “She's technically my flesh and blood too! I demand a rematch.”

Ominis, smirking wider now, lightly tapped his fingers against Noctua’s back. “You can try, but you won’t win.”

Noctua gurgled in agreement. Sebastian and Anne glared.

The battle for Noctua’s heart was far from over.

[luckycharmedpuff]

Rebels {Theodore Ed.}

Mattheo Ed. | Theodore Ed.

Pairing: Bro's bsf!Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: Uni! AU where Reader finds herself the designated 'nurse' for her brother's best friend, a botched job doesn't stop her from being called back.

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: shitty writing because I got busy and lazy lol. Unprotected piv, semi-possessive Theo, hair pulling, slapping, use of the word cock since that's apparently an ick for some of you guys. It's a quickie so don't expect 5k words of pure smut.

The first time Theo was dragged next door by Enzo and Blaise, was the day after the dean of the school warned him against any more infractions.

Theo, of course, still got into a fight within an hour after his football win. It wasn't his fault that the losing team was filled with a bunch of whiny bastards. Those bastards could, however, throw a mean punch.

The problem sat in, the infirmary would tip off the dean, and Theodore would get at least a suspension and kicked off the team. Which would most likely result in the team losing this season.

That's how he ended up being cooed over by a bunch of sorority girls while he headed towards Enzo's new stepsister's room. Something he wasn't quite sure he was ready for.

The first time he had met Y/n was over the summer, right before her transfer to his school. She had been sweet and funny up until drinks and a game of truth or dare sent them both into sour moods and bickering everytime they saw each other. Theo still wasn't clear about what happened. He hadn't even wanted to play.

So, watching Enzo raise his hand to knock on her door wasn't exactly settling for him. Especially when it was to ask her to help Theo.

It opened before his friend's knuckles could rap against the wood, and any sign of hesitance had disappeared when Dean Thomas opened the door. No, instead, Theo had the sudden urge to throw up. He was sick, now. Maybe even a little angry.

"Uh, sorry. I was just leaving," Dean muttered, jacket on his arm and clothes wrinkled. Theo could have even sworn he saw some lip gloss on the corner of his mouth too.

Uh, sorry. Like they'd personally taken offense to the girl's choice in men. Enzo and Blaise beat up one person earlier in the year for being a dickhead to her and suddenly everyone thinks she's untouchable.

Enzo had expressed relief about the notion until it brought out the dickbags that only saw it as a challenge. Theo honestly didn't give a shit. She'd hate him either way.

"What do you guys want?" Y/n sourly greeted the trio. "I'm studying."

"Studying what? Human anatomy?" Enzo grumbled, dragging Theo into the room

"Chemistry, actually." She reapplied some lip gloss before turning to Theo. "What happened to you?"

"Some loser on the opposing team doesn't seem to realize it's not cool to tag team a fight," Theo said, climbing onto the bed and stretching out.

"It's not cool to fight. Period." Y/n scrunched up her nose. He might have found it cute if he allowed himself to. "You're all sweaty."

"He's also in need of that fancy little first aid kit of yours." Enzo smiled. It was the smile that seemed to charm everybody but the guys. And apparently Y/n.

"There's an infirmary for that, no?" She lifted Theo's feet from her bed and dropped them over the edge callously. He'd only let her because he was too exhausted. At least, that's what he told himself. It definitely wasn't that he'd take whatever touch he could get from her if it didn't end in an argument. Even if it did...

"They'll kick him off the team if he goes there. C'mon please?" Enzo took her arm in his hands shaking it. When pleading didn't help, he went to bribery. "I'll pay for your laundry for the next month."

"You mean Mom will." Theo watched Enzo huff and attempt to think of a new bribe. Defeat only just crossed his face before Y/n laughed. "Whatever. Just get out. This room is barely enough room for two, let alone four."

Theo's pulse skyrocketed at the thought of being alone with her. It was bad enough being together in a group.

Once Enzo and Blaise left, I shut the door. "Ten bucks they leave with dates."

"Twenty they leave with a bunch of numbers and dates." Theodore grunted back, moving to her side to watch out the window. He groaned as he sidled up next to her, holding his side. The guys had left in no time, hands free of anything except a girl each. He huffed before struggling for his wallet and fishing out some cash.

"First come, first serve in this house," I giggled, taking the cash.

It always started like this. We joked. Everything was calm... Then eventually, one of us said something stupid. It would seem now he was opting out for silence. Theodore must've been really hurt, then.

With a sigh, I found the kit, washed my hands, and sat next to him on my bed, really taking a look at him for the first time since he had entered. I had to hold in a gasp. There were multiple wounds from his eyebrows to where his skin disappeared below his jersey. I could only imagine what lie beneath it if he had been battered by cleats.

I started with the biggest problem, a nasty gash that sat in the middle of his brow bone, clearly cleaned up prior to his arrival. There was still a small piece of paper towel stuck to it.

I silently shook my head before peeling off the paper towel. Theodore hissed, flinching back before sending me a displeased look. Big baby.

I cleaned the gash, hand on his jaw to keep him from squirming. Another sigh left my body.

"What, Doc? Can't fix me?" Theodore's tone was light, but I could sense something... else there. Tension.

"Not unless you want to be the first person to be stitched up by me." I rooted through the kit, pulling out surgical thread and a needle, watching with barely contained amusement as he leaned away.

"Absolutely not. Don't you have some of that fancy tape? That should work." Then, Theodore started going through the kit, leaving a disorganized mess in his wake. He found the "fancy tape" and held it up proudly.

"That's for after stitches, Theodore," I huffed, grabbing it anyway. I knew he would argue if I didn't. "It won't heal well."

"Better than if you shove that needle through my face, I reckon." He was probably right. I wasn't a nurse or even a woman training to be. My major wasn't even in the medical field. So, silently, I used the tape to close the wound as best as I could before moving on.

Half an hour went by before I awkwardly pointed at his torso. "Are you bruised?"

He laughed, before removing his jersey. "If you wanted to see me shirtless, you could've just asked, Sweetheart."

"If I wanted to see you shirtless, I would have just asked," I scoffed, avoiding his eyes as much as I could. I was curious, and truth be told, his mouth had been extremely tempting while I was inches away from his face.

When I first met Theodore Nott, I knew he was trouble. Thing was, I hadn't cared because in his case, trouble came with a pretty face and charming words.

Then that stupid, childish game happened and now we were here in my bed, doing one of the most unromantic things you could do when a hot guy was in your room shirtless.

His torso was more purple than his normal skin tone, some spots even a little swollen. "God, Theodore. The hell did you say to them?"

"Why do you assume I started it?"

I levelled him a stare, grabbing some gauze. "I don't have half of the things or expertise you really need. I mean, if you're this badly hurt, could they really put you at fault?"

"Doesn't matter to them. An altercation is an altercation. And for the record, they approached me. Not my fault they couldn't handle the loss. Or the... pointers I gave them." Theodore sucked in a breath as I started wrapping his ribs, a soft thud coming from the wall as his head hit it.

"Okay, so you didn't start it but you instigated it? That's not much better," I whispered, for once hoping it would start an argument to distract from the fact of Theodore's bruised abs being right in my face. God, he was so fit.

"Let's talk about something else. I'm too tired to argue." I looked up, raising an eyebrow at him. That's the first. "Dean Thomas. Chemistry, really?"

I let my hands get less than gentle as I taped off the gauze. He swatted my hands away.

"None of your business. You're done, anyway. Unless there's something else you need fixed?" My eyes ran over his exposed skin, double checking for anymore injuries.

Theodore laughed a stupid little "gotcha" laugh before shaking his head and tossing a hoodie on. "Nah. Uh, thanks, by the way."

"Thank me by never bringing this," I gestured to his face ", to my house again."

Three weeks later, I was being accosted while walking in-between classes. It had been a peaceful day, with many wins, but it seemed I had gotten to the end of that rope when Theodore Nott came storming up to me.

It was the first time I had seen him since my step-brother had dragged him to my room. Of course, said brother was following sheepishly behind the man, along with Mattheo.

"Look at this!" Theodore half-shouted, pointing at his brow. "So much for your skills."

On his brow, was a pink scar slicing through the middle, where the gash had previously been. I bit my lip to contain the mixture of anger and laughter that began bubbling up to my throat. My face grew warm the longer I stared at him, accompanying the warmth growing in my belly.

"Honestly, I told you that you needed stitches." It was my turn in line and I ordered, turning toward my brother and Mattheo. "Coffee?"

Over their orders, which the barista hesitantly took, Theodore continued on. "I look ridiculous."

"Yes, Theodore, you do look ridiculous shouting at me about something I warned you about. And here I was thinking that you were avoiding altercations." I grabbed the four coffees, rolling my eyes at the barista. She didn't see it, since she was too busy ogling Theodore and his stupid eyebrow.

He, on the other hand, was too busy looking around to see how many people were staring. His tone became more composed.

"Right. Well, fix it."

"Fix it? You just got a free coffee because of it." I regretted saying it the moment the words fled my mouth. And the next ones.

Theodore, Mattheo, and Enzo all looked at me like I grew a head.

"What? Some girls like when guys look all roughed up and scarred. There's like a million romance novels that prove it. That barista seems to be one of them." I pointed toward the coffee stand, completely ignoring the fact that I was also one of them and that the attraction I had toward Theodore was getting harder to fight off.

"Damn, maybe I should get in a fight," Enzo muttered, checking out the girl.

"Your mom would kill you. Now, I have class. Leave me alone."

"Fuck you!" The guy standing in front of Enzo said, glancing between the group. "Maybe if your sister wasn't such a bitch, then-"

Theo couldn't help but knock the dude on his ass. He may not have gotten along with Y/n a lot, but no one got to speak of her that way. Hell, he'd probably lay Enzo out if he tried.

But also, something had changed that day in her room. For him, at least. Even if she had been a tad ill-tempered with him, Theo's mind had wandered so off course when she was up close and personal with him, fixing his face.

He thought about what her lip gloss might have tasted like and what else her hands could have done for him. It was like he had met her for the first time again, and he allowed himself to think about her just how she was. A beautiful, sexy, intelligent woman who had captured his interest with a single glance.

But, she was still Enzo's sister, annoyingly righteous and snippy. Certainly not a bitch, though.

Theo crouched, hovering over the guy's face, "Are you done yet?"

"Not even close, Nott," the man replied before tackling Theo to the ground, throwing and missing, most of, his punches. An insane urge to laugh flooded him then, before landing his own shot on the guy.

That was, until he was being pulled up to his feet. "Fuck, Theo. Why can't you listen?"

It was Enzo, grumbling as he pulled out his phone and put it to his ear. "Look at you mate, you're a bloody mess."

"Don't call her, I'm fine."

"Too late."

"When I said don't bring it to my house, I meant don't ask me to help you again. Not make a house call for my assistance," Y/n said in a way of greeting Theo.

"I tried to tell him not to. He's... stubborn."

"Well, have you tried not getting into fights? That seems like a great start." Y/n sat on the edge of his bed, facing Theo as she picked up his hand and scrutinized it, doing the same to his other hand. Gauging similarities and differences, no doubt. She changed the subject, then. "You think I'll leave with a new number in my phone?"

"From this house? Unlikely," Theo snorted, trying to keep the curiosity out of his voice. "Why, though? What happened to Dean?"

Y/n just sighed, a frequent sound that left her mouth, as she began cleaning his knuckles. He made sure to keep the discomfort from showing this time. It wasn't that bad anyway.

"Let's just say... he failed his chemistry test," she glanced up. "Seems I have you to thank, though."

"For what?"

"For defending me from Austin," she said, a small smile on her face. "He was... grumpy from my disinterest."

Theo scoffed. Grumpy. How she managed to make any part of this situation cute, was unnerving.

"Yeah, well. Only I can be mean to you."

She laughed, a genuine fucking laugh that infiltrated his heart hook, line, and sinker. "Sure, Theodore. We'll go with that."

Theo sighed, watching her apply some ointment before wrapping gauze around his hands. She was so gentle, as if he'd just completely break if she hurt him anymore than necessary.

A comfortable silence filled the air as I finished up with his hands. I left the wound on his face for last, putting off the inevitable. It was difficult having our faces so close together and not really being able to do anything about it. I mean... he didn't like me like that.

I sighed, bringing a wet cloth to his mouth. There wasn't much I could do for the cut, and I told him that.

"You could kiss it better," he said, quickly growing red in the neck. So much for not thinking about kissing him. I didn't think he'd meant to say it, so I hummed, diverting the conversation away from me.

"Actually, I was going to suggest you keep it clean and dry. Better not to go kissing anyone. And don't pick or bite at the scab. So, especially no biters." I dabbed some Vaseline on his lip. "And try to keep it moisturized. Lip balm or petroleum jelly."

Theo nodded, going quiet as I cleaned up a spot that had smudged Vaseline below his lip. I glanced at his blue eyes, focused on something below my face, and I glanced down, finding that my shirt had been pulled a bit, revealing thin, black lace hugging my breasts.

I cleared my throat, standing and fixing my shirt. "I'm, uh, done now. Next time isn't free. I have better things to do than fix you up every time someone pisses you off."

"Like what? Study for a chemistry exam?" Theo walked me to the door, more walking me into the wall, caging me in. "I'm more fun than that."

"You're more trouble than that," I corrected, body stiff so I didn't squirm. He was so close his shirt was brushing against my crossed arms, the soft material beckoning for my fingers to scrunch it up in my fists, pulling him-

"Yet, here you are not getting away." Theo smirked, bringing a hand to my face. I shivered as it trailed my cheek. "Why now? I was starting to think you hated me."

The reminder of why I had been so short with him in the past flooded through my brain, ridding me of any want to touch Theodore.

"I don't hate you. Strong dislike ,though." I pushed against his chest, opening the door.

Theo followed Y/n out, stopping in the living room area of the fraternity house. When she was gone, he slid his hand across the side of his head.

Frustrated, he turned to Enzo and Mattheo. "Okay, why doesn't she like me? I don't get it."

Mattheo snorted before going straight faced. "You serious mate? You made it very clear that you wanted nothing to do with her within six hours of meeting. Of course she hates you."

"What? No I didn't. Pansy said Y/n wasn't interested. I left it at that." Theo shook his head at Enzo who was laughing. "What?"

"Mate, I think you blacked out at one point. You were dared to spin a bottle and snog whoever it landed on and instead of taking a shot instead of kissing her, you took three." Enzo looked between him and Mattheo.

"And told her you wouldn't kiss her if she was the last woman on the planet. She called you a child, Enzo punched you, and the party ended. It wasn't until the next day that everyone realized you were shitfaced," Mattheo said, still laughing. "Guess she didn't get the memo."

"Well, I didn't mean it! I was just pissed she told Pansy I wasn't her type. I'm everyone's type!"

"Oh, you didn't mean it?" Enzo said cocking his head. Theo prepped himself for a fight before Enzo snorted. "Relax. If anyone could get your head on right, it's her. Might do her some good from being shut off in her room all of the time, too."

"Pansy was also lying. Most likely. I mean, it takes forever to learn something personal from Y/n apart from some vague, sarky answer." Theo looked at Enzo, who nodded. He wanted to crawl in a hole. Of fucking course. Pansy had been trying to add him to her roster that whole summer.

"Shit. Fuck. Shit." Theo mumbled, running out of the frat house and looking in every direction before realizing she was gone. Why did she walk so fucking fast?

Disappointed and frustrated, he walked back into the house like a puppy with its tail tucked and ears back, slouching on the couch.

Then he turned to Enzo. "I thought you said some Ilvermorny bloke gave me that shiner."

"Then he said that he wasn't looking for something serious." Pansy droned on about her ex-fling while looking for a new one. I was listening, but I couldn't care less in the moment.

I picked at my borrowed school spirit shirt, a cropped tank that showed so much cleavage that I wasn't sure it could be considered anything but lingerie.

I wasn't even sure why I let her convince me to come to this after-game party. This wasn't my scene, and watching girls fawn over my brother and Theo sounded about as much fun as walking on Legos. They hadn't arrived yet, but I'm sure it would happen.

"What about him?" Pansy asked, gesturing toward Austin.

"If you're into desperate assholes, sure," I mumbled, earning a famous interested look from Pansy. "Theo got into a fight with him because he was shit-talking me."

"Ah, never mind then."

I shifted on my feet, finally deciding to leave. "Pans, I think I'm gonna-"

"Here's some of our crew!" Someone said, throwing their arms around Pansy and me, effectively splashing their drink on me. Great.

"Enzo!" I screeched, brushing him off.

"Oh, relax. I'm sure we can find a replacement shirt. Perhaps one with more coverage." Enzo laughed, scrunching his nose at my top.

"Don't bother, I'm pretty sure she was just about to bail," Pansy said, rolling her eyes and huffing.

"What? No, the party just started. And I want to talk to you, as well," Theo said into my ear, sliding his hand up my arm before beginning to drag me away. I almost missed the pissed look he sent Pansy.

"What? Have I been upgraded to sports injuries?" I awkwardly chuckled, letting him lead me to his room.

"Huh? No. I just want to clear something up."

Theo gestured toward his closet, collapsing on his bed, mumbling something to himself as I sorted through his clothes.

How I went from dreading watching girls flirt with Theo, to being swarmed with his smell because I'd be wearing his clothes in some sort of masochistic cover, I wasn't sure. I didn't want a peace offering. Not like this. So, I didn't grab anything and sighed.

"Can we just talk? I'm just going to leave anyway. There's no point in-"

"Please don't leave," Theo said crossing over to the closet and picking out a jersey. "I want you here."

I sucked in a breath. "Why? I thought-"

"That my past drunk ramblings were true, not just spiteful? I know. But Pansy-"

"Gods, Theodore. I don't want to talk about this." I tried to push past him but he grabbed my shoulder, pushing the clothing into me.

"Well, too bad. We're going to talk about it. Change first." Theo's eyes bore into mine before I surrendered, grabbing a hold of the jersey.

I didn't bother with the bathroom, just turning my back as he walked away. This was just great. I was basically trapped into this and wouldn't put it past Enzo to spill his drink on me on purpose.

I lifted the tank over my head, trying to ignore the little gasp behind me and quickly put the jersey on.

"Well?" I asked, gesturing to the jersey as I stood in front of Theo, leaning against his desk.

His throat bobbed before his rough voice went through the room. "I didn't think this through very well."

"Damn, that bad?" I laughed, shoving down the panic in my chest. Sure, the jersey didn't exactly fit, but I didn't think anyone had expected it to. I jumped when his hands slid along my neck, pulling my hair from the shirt.

"Just the opposite. Too good." Theo's hands didn't move from their spot as he took a big breath.

"Talk, Theodore," I said, focusing on my breathing. His thumb was brushing along my neck, and I didn't feel like making a mistake based off of sudden, over friendliness.

"That night. Everything was going well. Between us, I mean. Then, I was talking to Pansy and she told me you said I wasn't your type. I felt... I don't know. Led on. So I got piss drunk, and said some things that I didn't mean then, nor do I mean now. It wasn't right. And I only realized what happened a few days ago. I'm sorry."

"Well... I mean, she kind of told you the truth. Not the whole of it, but still."

Theo's stomach dropped at her words. He took a step back. "What?"

"I told her that normally you're not my type but that I was willing to put that aside-"

Like a switch was flipped with her words, Theo's mouth smashed against Y/n's, his hands back to caressing her throat.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers. "Sorry. You're in my jersey telling me this and that stupid fucking lip gloss was practically begging me to get rid of it."

Y/n chuckled. "That's okay, Theo."

"Fuck, say that again." Theo gruffed, pulling the girl closer. It took her a minute to figure out what he was asking. It wasn't every day that she used his nickname, and he needed to memorize the sound of it.

I decided to just throw caution to the wind a bit, bringing my lips to his ear, a breathy moan filling my voice. "Theo."

"Don't play with me, Y/n. That's mean," Theo whispered, bringing his mouth to hover over mine.

"Who said I was playing?" I asked, my voice just as quiet as I slowly dragged my fingers down his torso to toy with his waistband. "We've wasted enough time. Don't you agree?"

"I don't know... I mean I'm sure they'll be expecting us soon." Theo looked torn between me and leaving the room.

"Listen, I'll respect if you don't want to, Theo. But being close quarters those days together, and thinking I shouldn't do anything about it... It was frustrating."

"I know. It was for me too. I can't tell you how much time I spent with my fucking hand. Ridiculous, really." That was enough to send a fiery, rampage of hormones running through my body.

"Y-you touched yourself to the thought of me?" I asked, breathless as I drew him in impossibly close.

Theo only nodded before he muttered an expletive and captured my mouth back in his. My hands cradled his face as he drove me against the desk, shoving his knee between my legs. Moans slipped through my mouth as he rubbed his thigh roughly against my core.

"Sound just as I imagined. So fuckin pretty," he muttered, grabbing my breast from under the jersey. "So soft."

"Theo," I breathed out, tugging at his shirt to get it off. "Need you, now."

"Impatient little thing, aren't you?" he asked, shedding all of his clothes. My hands reached to do the same, but after my shorts and panties hit the floor, he snatched up my hand before I could get rid of the jersey.

"Keep that on, will you? Wanna fuck you while you sport my name. Then let everyone know who you belong to afterward," he said, turning me around, and tracing along the letters on my back.

I'd be lying if I said a new wave of arousal didn't make its way through me, finding the obvious possessiveness Theo was exerting to be a turn on.

"This okay?" Theo whispered, lining up with me. His tip lightly pressed against my entrance, teasingly testing the waters.

"Y-yes, Theo." My breath was coming out heavy and staggered and my nails were digging into the desk in anticipation, seconds feeling like minutes and I waited for him to fill me up. "Theo, Baby. Please-"

Her words turned into choked moans as he pushed half of his cock into her.

Fuck, she was so wet and tight. Theo grunted as she chased after him, silently begging for more. He brought his hand to her ass, rubbing before smacking the flesh. Y/n whined, and Theo grew impossibly harder inside of her.

"Baby, be patient." Still, Theo pushed the rest of the way, eating up the lewd noises from the girl he'd been silently harboring feelings for. He'd almost convinced himself his feelings weren't real until that night in her room. Now look at him. Filling her up. Grabbing a fistful of her hair to yank her head back.

"Fuck," Theo groaned against my neck. "Your greedy little cunt is squeezing me so good. You wanted me that bad, huh?"

"Says the one who's rock hard and buried inside of me," I somehow managed to mumble before he thrust hard into me.

Theo tutted, apparently not amused by my response, and pushed my chest into the desk surface. The surface was cold, seeping through the jersey with no problem. It was a nice contrast to the heat that radiated between Theo and me.

"Fuck, I could get used to this. Bent over my desk like a little fucking whore," Theo grunted. Every few words were backed up by a thrust, and each thrust was met with a moan.

I wasn't sure what I expected from Theo, but I certainly wasn't going to complain about my predicament. My body was a fire, and he was the fuel, each thrust inside of me building up the inferno that originated in my belly. I needed more.

"Theo..." I whined, digging my nails harder into the desk.

"What, Love? You wanna come?" Theo asked, already snaking his hand around my hip. "I got you."

His assurance was soft, contrasting with the forceful ministrations he was wreaking my body with, as was the finger that began circling my clit with a nearly featherlight touch.

I was nowhere and everywhere when I came hard around Theo, my moans and whines filling the air as my body filled with static, electricity seemingly running along my nerves and lighting them on fire.

I was in bliss, as I faintly heard Theo come on my ass, muttering a string of mostly incoherent curses.

As I came down from my sex induced high, More and more started filtering through to my conscious.

The staggered sounds of being out of breath from the two of us, the thundering music barely muffled by the bedroom door. A faint knocking.

Theo, somehow already put back together, smirked at me as he helped me back into my clothes, squeezing my ass through my shorts and giving me a chaste kiss.

He crossed the room and opened the door. Mattheo appeared as if he was about to knock again. He let his hand fall as he looked us over before shaking his head.

"You're lucky I managed to check on you, and not Enzo. Otherwise you'd be fixing him again," he said, gesturing towards Theo's face. "Nice chat, then?"

"The best," Theo smirked again, grabbing my hand and pulling me over to smooth down some of my hair. I felt my face flush from Theo's insinuation, and turned my face away.

"Yeah whatever, just hurry up, will you? I'm not saving your ass again.

HP Masterlist

[bfwooin]

Girl, I can't anymore😔 I need tattoo artist reader x Wooin to breathe

say it, baby. do it, baby.

synopsis. despite wooin's unexpected arrival, you decide to take him in and tattoo him after operating hours.

content. reader is a tattoo artist, banter, wooin is a little shit who likes to flirt with us ugh.

a/n. babe ure probably not breathing rn so i hope this revives u 😇 TATTOO ARTIST READER AND WOOIN??? ure genius i love ur brain. thank u for requesting love i hope u like it <3

tags. @shintaru @sylith @zyart-jpg @wthphe1n

you wipe down the tattoo chair minutes after your last client left your shop, humming to the tune of the song that plays through the speakers.

the faint scent of antiseptic and ink linger in the air of your surroundings, a smell you’re too familiar with having started your business venture just a year ago.

it was on a whim, you began this journey from your unauthorised poke-and-stick services to your friends stemmed from pure boredom, until they recommended you to pursue the craft of tattooing professionally.

so, years later after an apprenticeship, you’re here in your very own tattoo parlour in the streets of seoul, built from your humble beginnings. tossing the clean wipe and your black latex gloves into the trash, you walk towards the door, wanting to pull the metal shutters down to end your night as you had finished all of your clients for the day.

you don’t accept walk-ins, and you hate dealing with difficult people who insist you on accepting their patronage through bribery. it’s gross how the world revolves around money, but it won’t work with you.

your handiwork is precious, sacred even, and you rather not waste time around snobby customers, who want to get a tattoo to seem tough and cool. it’s a meaningful job, and you always love to listen to stories about the customers’ choice of tattoo that they want permanently on their skin. and with you being the tattooist, you get to do the honours.

a session with you is never dull, you love entertaining, and being entertained, by your clients; they’re what makes your job more fun. grabbing the stick to pull the shutters, a man with yellow-tinted glasses struts his way into your parlour, ignoring the fact that you were about to close it.

he looks familiar, attractive too, as if you have seen him on live television before. maybe he’s a host? you pay no mind to it. “excuse me, sir. i’m closing for the day.”

“come on, one more customer wouldn’t hurt, right sweetheart?” he teases, and you cringe at his words. he walks over to you and checks your appearance out, his eyes darting all over you and your body before you sigh to yourself and ask, fully knowing what his answer will be.

“what’s your name? do you even have an appointment?”

“the name’s wooin. and yes, i do, so stop frowning at me. you’re too pretty to be doing that.”

you’re weirded out by this guy who firstly, walks in as if he owns the place, and secondly, has the audacity to flirt with you? you roll your eyes, walking towards your counter to see if he was lying about his appointment.

as the keyboard clicks echo from your desk, you unfortunately find out that he was right, and that he actually came on time for his appointment as it was specifically booked after opening hours.

for some reason, on one particular day where you were going through your client bookings, you accepted wooin’s after-hours tattoo appointment; a goddamn half- sleeve tattoo of a snake.

you ought to be sleepy or drunk to accept it on that fateful day, but business is business, you couldn’t back out even if you wanted to. it'd be rude and unprofessional of you to send him on his way as well. “alright, make yourself comfortable.”

you cock your head towards the leather chair, signalling him to sit on it as you put on a new set of gloves. he couldn’t stop himself from smirking as he sat on the cushioned seat, looking around your studio while you looked for the designs you drew weeks before.

“here, take your pick. if you don’t like any of them, i’ll just redraw and we can rearrange-”

“shit, you’re good at drawing.”

your lips part, itching to form a small smile from the compliment. though you keep your cool, muttering a soft ‘thanks’ at his words. he looks up from the file full of your designs, observing the way your ears flush a subtle hint of redness as you had your gaze elsewhere.

you jolt instantly, feeling his index finger tap your arm to get your attention. “this one’s good, i’ll get it.” he picks the one with a large skull that accompanies the snake, matching his hand tattoo that you couldn’t help but notice.

you couldn't deny that he's handsome. but fuck, even his hands look good. something about his black-painted nails and knuckle tattoos make you weak in your knees a little. “cool tattoos you got there, on your hand.” you blurt out as you pull out the transfer paper the design was made on.

“i could say the same to you,” he replies, looking at your arm that's wrapped by a stitch tattoo, heavily inspired by tokyo ghoul. he maintains eye contact with you, but you break it off and walk away.

you pull your tiered-cart of materials needed for your session, whipping out a pair of scissors to cut the design to fit his arm. “so, what’s your name, cutie?”

it’s almost midnight, too late for you to deal with his antics. “i’m y/n,” you answer tersely, shaving and cleaning off any hair on his arm before transferring the design onto his skin.

“how did you find out about this place? and why not go back to the one you went to previously?” you ask with genuine curiosity, sterilising and preparing your tattoo gun as he replies, “i pass your shop everytime i drive through this street. it’s hard to not notice you, you’re attractive as hell.”

“so, you came here because you think i’m hot?”

“basically, so let me get your numbe- fuck!”

you cut off his words by poking his skin lightly with the needle, earning a soft chuckle from you upon seeing his reaction. “hey! i could sue you for misconduct, you know?” he threatens playfully as you start the gun, the whirs blasting into your ears as it vibrates in your grasp.

“mhm, sue me then.” he lets out an exasperated sigh while you tell him that you’re about to start. he nods, and you proceed with the inking of the outline of the tattoo.

surprisingly, he’s quiet with a few playful conversations here and there, but never really getting too deep into talking. he's more of observing you move the gun with precision and skill; it’s like he’s appreciating your talent, and you feel the appreciation in return.

halfway through with the outline, you stop the gun as you ask, “are you fine? we can stop here for the night if you’re hurting and continue next time.”

“keep going, sweetie. i’m stronger than you think.” he smirks, and you oblige, continuing from where you left off and eventually completing the linework.

you heave, admiring your work after hours of tattooing. it’s almost two in the morning, and you begin to think that you should charge extra for working overtime. wiping the remainder of blood off from his arm before covering it in film, you say, “okay, you can come in next week for the shading.”

“can i come tomorrow?”

“hell no, your arm needs to heal.”

“but i wanna see you again.” you remove your gloves and throw them away as you walk over to the counter to calculate the cost of the session.

“don’t care, your total is $1100. cash or card?”

“are you scamming me?” he asks playfully, standing up from the chair before wobbling slightly as it’s been hours since he last stood up.

“i’m not, you broke?” you reply flatly, evidently done with his bullshit and in need of some form of energy as you point to the sign on your desk that shows your rates and how you charge.

he says nothing more, pulling out his card and paying the amount in full before putting it back into his wallet.

he attempts to stretch his freshly-inked arm, enduring the stinging pain that came along with it as you both waited for the receipt of his transaction to be printed.

pulling the strip of paper out of the device, you quickly jot down something at the bottom before handing it back to him.

“see you next week, wooin.” he nods, and as he walks away from your counter and towards the door, he stops in his tracks whilst examining the receipt.

he turns his head, looking back at you with a triumphant smirk as he claims, “i knew you couldn’t resist me.”

“whatever makes you happy.” you avoid his gaze, knowing you’ll blush.

you didn’t expect him to immediately confront you after you wrote your number down and gave it to him, just like he asked you to.

and at the very least, you hope you don’t regret doing so. after all, you’re not the type to just give out your number to anyone.

[saturnsag3]

Always and Forever — will smith x macklins celebrini

summary: a series of surprises and a sickeningly sweet ending

wc: 3,222

The first clue should’ve been the coffee.

Macklin woke up to the smell of cinnamon and vanilla—his favorite latte from the little café two blocks away. Will stood at the foot of the bed with a tray, grinning sheepishly like he hadn’t just walked five minutes in wind to make Mack’s morning perfect.

“I thought you deserved breakfast in bed,” he said, nudging the tray forward. “I also might’ve stolen the last almond croissant, so if a woman named Marlene tries to fight me later, that’s why.”

Mack blinked at him, bleary-eyed. “What’s the occasion?”

Will only shrugged. “Just felt like spoiling you.”

That wasn’t unusual—Will had always been sweet like that, sentimental in the quietest ways—but there was something extra in the way he looked at Mack that morning. Like he was holding a secret behind his smile.

Still, Mack didn’t press. He sat up, took the coffee, and let Will tuck himself under the covers beside him while they shared breakfast and watched Jersey Shore on Will’s phone. It felt easy. Warm.

Uncomplicated love.

The second clue came a few hours later, when Will handed Mack a shopping bag with neatly folded clothes and said, “Put this on. I’m stealing you for the day.”

Mack pulled out a soft blue sweater and some new jeans. “What are we doing?”

Will leaned against the doorframe, looking infuriatingly smug. “You’ll see.”

—

First stop: the boardwalk.

Will took him to the pier where they used to go in college—back when they were still just best friends who flirted like idiots. The arcade was still there, barely functioning, and Will handed Mack a roll of quarters with a wink.

“Loser buys lunch.”

“You mean I let you win and you buy lunch anyway?” Mack grinned, already lining up his first shot at skeeball.

They played until their fingers were sticky from cotton candy and Mack had a giant stuffed otter under his arm because Will somehow convinced the guy at the ring toss to let him trade in a consolation prize for him.

Mack held the thing up with a squint. “This is bribery.”

“It’s romance,” Will said, smug. “Pure, unfiltered romance.”

“It’s lopsided.”

“It’s symbolic.“

Mack snorted, but he held the otter tight anyway. They drifted from machine to machine, Will pausing every few minutes to slip more quarters into Mack’s hand like they were on borrowed time. They raced on old motorcycles with busted screens, got into an embarrassingly competitive game of air hockey that ended in Will diving theatrically after the puck, and spent way too long at the claw machine that only ever spat out plastic frogs.

At one point, Will leaned in close behind Mack at the coin pusher, chin on his shoulder, arms wrapped lazily around his waist like they had nowhere else in the world to be. “You know,” he murmured, “we’re way too grown to be here.”

Mack smiled, bumping their heads together. “And yet you brought me here.”

“Because you get this dumb look on your face when you’re winning at basketball,” Will said, gently thumping his shoulder. “Like you’re six again and you just found out cake exists.”

“I am winning.”

“You’re not.”

“I beat your score by twelve.”

“You cheated.”

Mack grinned. “You’re just mad I have better aim.”

Will caught his hand then—sudden, but soft—and pressed a quick kiss to his knuckles. “I just love seeing you happy.”

Mack blinked at him, caught off guard. “That’s corny.”

“I know.”

“I like it.”

Will’s smile was a little crooked then, like he was holding something back. But Mack didn’t notice, too busy dragging him toward the photo booth tucked in the corner by the candy counter.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s document your loss.”

Inside, Mack pulled goofy faces while Will tried to look serious, only breaking into laughter when Mack licked his cheek during the last shot. The strip printed out a minute later—blurred, chaotic, perfect.

Will tucked it into his wallet.

Mack didn’t see the way his fingers lingered over the photo.

—

Lunch was a quiet picnic in the park. Will had packed everything—fruit, sandwiches, cookies from Mack’s favorite bakery. They sprawled out on a blanket under a tree, watching a kid try (and fail) to fly a kite.

“You’re like, unreasonably good at today,” Mack said, popping a grape into his mouth. “What’s gotten into you?”

Will leaned back on his elbows, watching him. “Nothing’s gotten into me. I’m just… happy.”

Mack rolled his eyes. “Gross.”

Will laughed. “Get used to it.”

—

By late afternoon, Will had guided Mack to a little downtown boutique spa.

Mack blinked at the receptionist. “Wait. What are we doing here?”

Will grinned. “Couples massage. I booked it weeks ago. Shut up and let me pamper you.”

Mack stared at him, narrowing his eyes. “Did you mess up something and this is you trying to apologize in advance?”

Will laughed, genuinely. “No. But I am asking you to get naked and let a stranger rub your back, so you better enjoy it.”

Mack only grumbled a little, but by the end of it, he was so relaxed he almost fell asleep in the car. Will didn’t say much on the drive home—just played soft music, humming now and then, his thumb brushing over Mack’s knuckles as they held hands between the seats.

—

Back home, there was another surprise. Laid out on the bed were new clothes: a soft black dress shirt, pressed slacks, and polished shoes. Will was already half-dressed, fiddling with his cufflinks, clearly nervous.

“Dinner,” he said simply.

Mack stared. “Are you taking me to a gala? Are we meeting the president?”

“Nope.” Will smiled. “Just somewhere nice.”

By the time they arrived at the restaurant—a rooftop bistro with fairy lights strung across wooden beams and ivy curling around the railings—Mack was thoroughly overwhelmed.

Their table was tucked in a corner overlooking the city, candlelight flickering between them as they ordered wine and small plates and shared bites across the table.

“You look incredible,” Will said at one point, completely unprompted.

Mack smirked. “Is this all because I folded your laundry this week?”

Will raised his glass. “Maybe. Also maybe because I’m in love with you.”

“You sap.”

“You knew what you signed up for.”

Mack laughed softly, shaking his head as he swirled the wine in his glass. The candlelight danced across Will’s face, catching on the gold in his eyes, and there was something different in the way he was looking at Mack now—like he was seeing every version of him at once. Past, present, maybe even future.

The food came in waves—crisp bruschetta, buttery scallops, some kind of ravioli that Mack immediately claimed as his. Will let him eat most of it, content to watch, to listen. The kind of dinner that stretched, lazily, into the night.

At one point, a small string quartet began playing on the opposite side of the rooftop. Mack turned, blinking. “Okay, that’s definitely not a coincidence.”

Will took a slow sip of wine, suspiciously casual. “It’s Friday. People hire string quartets on Fridays.”

Mack narrowed his eyes. “You hate live music during dinner.”

“I hate bad live music during dinner. These guys are great.”

Mack’s brow furrowed. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m acting like a man who is extremely in love and enjoying his overpriced scallops.”

“Mmhm,” Mack said, unconvinced, but he let it go.

They lingered over dessert—chocolate soufflé with two spoons. Mack didn’t question why it had come with a sparkler in it, though he did give Will a long, suspicious look that Will very nobly ignored.

By the time they left the restaurant, the sun had slipped fully behind the skyline, and the city was awash in pinks and purples fading into navy. The air was warm but breezy, perfect for a walk. And Will, ever the gentleman, took Mack’s hand and said:

“Come with me.”

“Where?”

Will just smiled. “You’ll see.”

They walked for a while, hands clasped together, shoulders bumping. Mack kept glancing sideways, trying to read Will’s expression, but he wasn’t giving anything away. Every so often he’d squeeze Mack’s hand tighter or kiss the top of it gently, murmuring little things like, “You doing okay?” and “You warm enough?” and “You look really beautiful tonight.”

It was… a lot. But the good kind of a lot.

Eventually, they turned off the sidewalk onto a path lined with trees, strung with paper lanterns. It was familiar. Mack recognized the park—it was the one where Will used to bring him after long shifts when they were still just friends, back when everything was complicated and simple all at once.

Mack’s heart started to pick up, fluttering in his chest. “Wait, why are we—”

Will said nothing. Just walked.

And then they reached it.

A clearing.

Candles everywhere—hundreds, maybe more—lined the path and circled the center of the space. Rose petals scattered across the ground, glowing faintly in the light. A single string of lights hung from tree to tree above, casting everything in soft, golden warmth. There was no one else around. Just the two of them.

Mack stopped in his tracks.

“Will—Will, that’s—” He pointed, heart hammering. “That’s not ours. What are you doing?”

Will just kept walking, tugging gently at Mack’s hand.

“Will,” Mack hissed, eyes wide. “This is someone else’s setup, we’re crashing their—oh my god—are you kidding? This is like straight out of movie or something jesus—“

Will turned to face him fully then, holding both of Mack’s hands.

“It’s not someone else’s,” he said quietly.

Mack froze. “What?”

“It’s not someone else’s,” Will repeated, and his voice shook just a little, though his hands were steady. “It’s ours.”

Mack’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.

Will took a step closer. “I’ve been thinking about this day for years. I’ve played it out in my head a thousand different ways, but none of them came close to this. To you. Standing here, looking at me like that.”

Mack blinked, eyes already shining.

“I fell in love with you before I even knew what to call it,” Will continued. “It was stupid stuff at first. The way you chewed on pens when you were anxious. How you’d steal my hoodies and pretend like you didn’t. How you’d sit next to me on the couch and slowly inch closer until we were basically on top of each other.”

Mack let out a watery laugh.

“I knew then,” Will said, eyes never leaving his. “And I’ve known every day since. Even on the hard ones. Especially on the hard ones.”

Mack’s throat was tight now, his fingers trembling in Will’s.

“I love you when you’re soft and sleepy. I love you when you’re bratty and grumpy— and petty,” he added which made Mack giggle again. “And how oh-so dramatic you are about losing at Fortnite. I love you when you’re scared. When you’re brave. When you’re too proud to ask for help but do it anyway.”

Will took a breath. A deep one.

“I love you for every reason and no reason at all. I love you because there’s no one else who has ever felt like home to me the way you do.”

And then, slowly, Will dropped to one knee.

Mack gasped—audibly—and clapped both hands over his mouth. His eyes were already brimming over.

Will pulled a small velvet box from his jacket and opened it, revealing a ring so simple and perfect. Straight out of Mack’s fairytale dreams. 

“Marry me,” Will said, voice thick. “Please.”

Mack was crying openly now, messy and silent, shoulders shaking.

“Will you marry me?” Will asked again, gently this time.

Mack nodded before he could speak, choking out a breathless, “Yes,” followed by a completely broken, “Oh my god, yes.”

Will stood, barely getting the ring on Mack’s finger before Mack launched himself at him, arms wrapping tight around his neck, their bodies colliding with the sound of wet laughter and sniffled sobs.

“You idiot,” Mack mumbled into his shoulder. “God— i’m gonna punch you in the fucking mouth you— you stupid, romantic, sexy, idiot.”

Will was laughing too, breath catching in his throat as he buried his face in Mack’s neck. “You said yes, though.”

“I said yes,” Mack echoed. “Holy shit. I said yes.”

They pulled back just enough to kiss—slow, deep, trembling. Like a promise sealed in candlelight.

And somewhere behind them, a soft breeze rustled through the trees, petals catching on the air like confetti.

Will held him close, one hand pressed against the small of his back, the other curled tightly around Mack’s now-ringed hand.

“You really thought this was someone else’s setup?” he murmured against Mack’s hair.

“I panicked!” Mack groaned. “It looked expensive!”

Will laughed. “You’re worth it.”

“You’re stupid.”

“You love it.”

“I love you.”

Will smiled, forehead pressed to his. “I know. I love you more.”

sages thoughts⋆˙⟡: full transparency i cried a little bit writing this, i fucking love proposals and weddings i genuinely can’t hold back it’s so bad LMAO so please enjoy me basically baring my soul

[sweetbunpura]

Dangit. All the Returned!Yuu posts have given me an angst/fluff idea. Yuu is Leona’s baby sibling and was the only one he felt close to. Yuu wanted Leona above everyone else as a baby and for little Leona, that was enough. Leona was there when whatever creature/event took Yuu, it’s how he got his scar. It’s the thing that fully broke the prince.

When Yuu arrives during the sorting ceremony Leona smells them and some hope pulls at his heartstrings. But Yuu doesn’t have any of their original beastman traits, so Leona talks himself out of it. Slowly Yuu gains magic and starts acting more like other beastmen (stronger senses, little more predatory, lil growls). But nothing solid until Leona’s overblot. They get to see Leona’s past like in the game, but now with memories of Leona taking care of baby Yuu. Yuu recognizes a baby blanket/necklace/charm Leona had gifted them and calls it out. Before Leona can react they return to the real world. Now Yuu has ears and a tail. Leona wakes up and just stares in disbelief, wondering if it’s real.

They bond and grow closer so fast. Leona finally has his person back, and Yuu feels like they are finally whole but feel like it’s their fault Leona was so hurt. Leona wants to go back home even less (wants to hog Yuu all to himself) before Cheka appears. Yuu could help Leona communicate his ideas more to Falena and get him to show off more. Yuu 100% does not like the bird man and jabs back every time he puts Leona down. Cheka grows quickly on Yuu, but they also feel jealous of the cub cause it’s obvious Leona loves him (Yuu fighting with feeling replaced and not being able to have a childhood with their family). Yuu also has a close relationship with Ruggie and learns about the slums and other parts/people of the Sunset Savanna. Yuu may or may not get Leona to help more with the slums (also helping keep Falena from stopping them) and Leona gains the people’s favor and becomes the first prince of the lesser people.

Uh! I could just go on! Feels like it could have so much potential.

Leona with that hopeful flare in his chest, but not a scent of a lion on Yuu anywhere. Anytime he tries to smell Yuu for anything, the scent just smells burnt. He gets angry, angrier than he normally gets, and tries to ignore the idea that Yuu could be his lost baby sibling. His first glimpse that it might actually be Yuu is when he attacks Yuu and Grim in the garden after stepping on his tail, Yuu blocks it out of pure instinct.

Leona sees Yuu's pupils turn into slits before they round out and return to normal. He leaves immediately afterwards, too hurt by what just happened. After Leona's overblot, he wakes up to a lot of chatter, there's something heavy on his chest and he looks down. Yuu's looking at him with their ears flatten and tears in their eyes. They saw all of what happened and They're so sorry for what he went through after Yuu went missing.

His ndugu is finally back and Leona breaks down and holds onto Yuu. Finally, his will to live has returned to him. Yuu and Leona try to get them transferred to Savanaclaw, with some bribery. Leona's telling Yuu about everything they missed and everything that's happening.

Under Leona's help, Yuu managed to unlock their Unique Magic: Lion's Fury. While Leona's turns things into sand, Yuu's causes a fiery blaze.

Leona: Yours is just like mine. Guess we both just cause destruction-

Yuu: Not exactly. Mine can burn stuff, yeah, but it also allows for new growth.

Leona: Which mine doesn-

Yuu: What if someplace gets invaded by an invasive plant? Your sand could kill that plant in no time at all, saving vegetation and the likes.

Leona: ...I'll be honest, I never thought of that before.

Yuu being Leona's baby sibling is adorable, but not look at all the books past this moment. Leona would be pissed at Azul and would easily agree to Yuu's plan without having to force his hand. Scarabia's chapter would cause Leona to be called and get involved in it. Ignihyde now has Yuu going for both Grim AND Leona.

[kitty384]

They Know You, All of You

Summary: You’ve tried everything—soothing baths, gentle music, tea, talking to your bump. But your baby won’t settle. They’re kicking, flipping, radiating restlessness from inside you. That is… until Loki steps in. Not as the prince. Not as the illusion. But as who he truly is. Jotun. Magic-born. And in that cold-blue stillness, your child finally sleeps.

Content Warnings: pregnancy discomfort, emotional vulnerability, identity acceptance, pure fluff and love

They’d been kicking for nearly an hour.

Not in that playful, look-how-alive-they-are way. Not the soft flutters that used to make you tear up in the middle of tea.

No.

These kicks were relentless.

Sharp.

Angry, almost.

Like your child was trying to claw their way into the world early, and you were the unfortunate battlefield.

You sat in bed, one hand cradling your bump, the other rubbing your forehead.

“I’ve tried everything,” you murmured. “Bath. Music. Talking. Bribery. Please, little one—just settle…”

Nothing.

Another roll, another punch to your ribcage.

Your back ached. Your belly pulsed like it was full of sparks. And beneath it all, there was… unrest.

Like something was missing.

You didn’t notice Loki standing in the doorway until he spoke.

“They’ve been like this all evening?”

You looked up, tired and defeated. “They won’t stop. I thought maybe it was the sugar from lunch but… it’s different. They’re not just moving—they’re upset.”

He crossed the room in a few strides, his hand already hovering over your belly.

The moment he touched you, you both felt it:

Magic.

Frantic, flickering, bouncing beneath your skin like a heartbeat in a snowstorm.

Loki blinked. “They’re pulsing magic.”

Your lips parted. “I—I didn’t know they could do that yet.”

“Neither did I.” His hand settled gently, palm wide, grounding the chaos. “But they’re reaching.”

“For what?”

He paused.

Then whispered, “For me.”

You watched him with wide eyes as something shifted behind them.

Soft.

Sad.

Understanding.

“They’re not looking for my voice,” he said. “Or even my presence.”

He looked at you.

“They want to feel who I truly am.”

You knew what he meant.

No illusions. No gold. No prince of Asgard mask.

Just Loki.

Jotun.

“You don’t have to—” you started, but he was already taking a step back.

Undoing the magic.

Letting go of the persona.

And before your eyes, he changed.

Skin deep blue.

Markings glowing soft and faint like veins of moonlight.

Eyes like frozen oceans.

Loki, as he truly was.

Your heart clenched.

Not because you feared him.

But because he still thought you might.

He stepped forward again, cautious.

You didn’t flinch.

You held your arms open.

And he knelt at your side.

The moment his Jotun palm touched your belly—

Stillness.

Like snowfall.

Like breath after crying.

Like a room exhaling.

The baby rolled once—softly—and then stopped.

You gasped. “Loki…”

“They know me,” he whispered. “Not the version I show the world. Me.”

His voice broke.

“They want me.”

You rested your hand on his cheek, cool and smooth beneath your touch.

“They already love you,” you whispered. “All of you. Even the parts you were taught to hide.”

He nodded, forehead pressed to your bump.

And in the silence that followed…

The baby kicked.

Once.

Gentle.

Like a thank you.

And then settled into sleep.

Masterlist

Request

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

What do you think is the worst scenario? Malleus overblot? No! The boy self aware and want to go to the real world? Non! The end of the twst world? Nein! Is the day Kalim become a real villain

I don’t know that I’d call it the worst scenario, but we sure are lucky that Kalim is as pure as he is 💦 In some alternate universe, Kalim is an unrelenting asshole character who abuses his family’s money to get his way. Could you imagine??? The bribery, the (intentional) showboating, looking down on “the poors”… Bro could be the one hiring assassins to snipe people who so much as look at him the wrong way 💀 Kalim could for real do some serious harm with that kind of power.

I’m glad that Twst didn’t end up going that route; it’s much more interesting to have a “nice guy” interacting with the others in the (not-so-nice) cast. If Kalim had been cruel, it would have only further justified Jamil hating his lot in life and simplified the nuanced conflict between them. The fact that Kalim is so kind and naive is what makes the reveal of book 4 all the more heart shattering for him. He has to confront the fact that his flesh and blood are keeping the Vipers constrained, while also dealing with the betrayal and contempt of someone he previously believed was his best friend. It forces him to confront nasty truths his enormous wealth could afford to shield him from, and it forces him to grow.