#send me songs that you like I want to hear more

[wendichester]

Darling! How are you? How is your week?

🍄 here

You said I could send more asks… so I’m going to reaaaally use that! Hope that’s ok :)

Hear me out… Dean an HER are undercover in a bar/roadhouse whatever to gather intel… SHE has to sing on stage because of reasons (you’re the genius writer you’ll figure it out 😘) and she sings “rhinestone ring” from Abby Cone cause she’s cheesy and her and Dean are idiots in love who have to talk about their feelings eventually?

Can be fluffy can be steamy… you decide

Luv ya 🍄

⋆˚˖° rhinestone ring,

summary. serenading dean in the middle of a case because the tension between you two is becoming unbearable

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 957

notes. first time hearing this song but it clicks so well with dean imo ehe thanks for the request lovely 🩷🍄

This is not what Dean signed up for.

He leans against the bar, whiskey in hand, watching as you step onto the stage, bathed in warm, golden light. The roadhouse is packed tonight—truckers, bikers, hunters, all of them turning to watch as you adjust the mic stand.

He should be watching the room. Keeping an eye out for their mark.

Instead, he’s watching you.

Your eyes flick to his before the music starts, and even from across the bar, Dean can see the teasing glint in them. You’re loving this.

He grits his teeth, rolling his shoulders. This is all part of the plan—cozy up to the locals, get the information they need, maybe shake a few hands and flash a few flirtatious smiles. The singing part? Not in the original game plan.

But you took one look at the stage, grinned like you had a secret, and next thing he knew, some gruff-looking guy was handing you a guitar and calling your name into the mic.

Now, Dean watches, breath held, as you bring the mic closer and let your voice pour into the room.

"Some girls want a big old diamond on a hand they hold too tight, Some girls wanna be in a fairytale, that’s just not my style..."

Your voice is smooth, soft but full of warmth, curling around every word like honey. Dean swallows hard, his fingers tightening around his glass.

He should have known you’d pick something like this.

You smirk as you get to the next part, eyes locking on him.

"I just want a rhinestone ring, Buy it with a neon glow, From a pawn shop down on Broadway, We’ll keep it on the low..."

Dean can feel the heat creeping up his neck. The crowd is eating it up, nodding along, tapping their fingers against their beers. They don’t know that this is for him, that you’re looking right at him like the words mean something.

He hates that his chest aches at the thought.

Because this is just a job. Just a cover. Just another night spent pretending.

Right?

You keep singing, strumming along to the melody, your voice turning sweeter, softer.

"I don’t need forever, just tonight with you..."

Dean exhales sharply. You have got to be kidding him.

He pushes off the bar, needing to put some space between himself and whatever the hell this is stirring up inside him. He moves to the edge of the crowd, leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

You finish the song with a little flourish, sending a wink in his direction before handing off the guitar and hopping off the stage.

The bar erupts into applause.

Dean doesn’t move.

You weave through the crowd, stepping right up to him, eyes shining with amusement. "Well?"

Dean raises an eyebrow. "That was real cute."

"Admit it, Winchester." You nudge him with your hip. "You liked it."

Dean huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. "You’re a damn menace, you know that?"

You grin. "And yet, you love me."

The words slip out so easily, so casually, that you don’t even seem to realize what you just said.

But Dean does.

His heart stutters, his smirk faltering for half a second before he covers it up with another sip of whiskey.

You tilt your head, watching him. "What?"

Dean sets his glass down on the table behind him, swallowing past the lump in his throat. "Nothing."

But you don’t let it go.

Your fingers brush against his wrist, just for a second. A fleeting touch. A spark.

"Dean," you say, softer now.

He clenches his jaw, eyes flicking over the room—looking for an excuse, a distraction, anything.

But there’s nothing. Just you. Just this.

"You ever think about it?" you ask, voice quiet, hesitant.

Dean exhales sharply. "Think about what?"

Your lips quirk up. "A pawn shop ring. A neon glow."

His chest tightens. He should lie. He should. But when he looks at you, standing there with that damn knowing look in your eyes, he can’t.

"Yeah," he admits, voice rough. "Maybe."

You stare at him like you’re waiting for something else, something more.

And hell—maybe you deserve more.

But all Dean can do is shake his head with a smirk that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "We should get back to work."

You study him for a beat longer before nodding. "Yeah. We should."

Neither of you move.

Dean swears under his breath before grabbing your hand and tugging you into the shadows of the hallway leading to the back of the bar.

You barely have time to gasp before his mouth is on yours, hungry and desperate, kissing you like he’s been dying for it.

And maybe he has.

You kiss him back just as fiercely, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, like you knew this was coming. Like you knew all along.

Dean presses you against the wall, hands gripping your hips, feeling the way you fit against him like you were always meant to be here.

"Thought you didn’t do fairytales," he murmurs against your lips.

You smile, breathless. "I don’t."

His lips trail along your jaw, down to your neck. "Then what the hell was that song about?"

You laugh softly, tilting your head back to give him more access. "Not every love story needs a fairytale ending."

Dean pulls back just enough to look at you. "And ours?"

You search his face, your fingers brushing over the stubble on his jaw. "Ours is whatever we want it to be." You shrug slightly. "As long as you're next to me, I don't really care,"

His breath catches.

And maybe a pawn shop ring and a neon glow don’t sound so bad after all.

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[lvrsturniolo]

Passenger Princess ~M.S

Pairing: Singer!Reader × Matt Sturniolo

pt.1

Synopsis: When you start planning the music video for your latest song, you realize there’s only one person you want as your co-star, your best friend, Matt Sturniolo. The only problem? You have to convince him first.

You tapped your fingers against the table, staring at your phone screen as your latest single, Passenger Princess, played softly in the background. The music video concept had been running through your mind for weeks��a dreamy, intimate vibe, heavy on aesthetic shots, and, of course, a love interest to play the role of the driver.

The only person you could picture in that role was Matt.

It made sense. You were close, the chemistry was there, and you trusted him more than anyone to make the scenes feel natural. But asking him? That was a whole different challenge.

You grabbed your phone, hesitating for only a second before sending a text.

____________________________________

You: Hey, I have a crazy idea, and you’re not allowed to say no immediately.

The typing bubbles appeared almost instantly.

Matt: That’s concerning. Continue.

You smirked, taking a deep breath before responding.

You: I want you to be in my music video. As the love interest.

The typing bubbles stopped.

Your heart pounded. Maybe this was stupid. Maybe he’d think it was weird—

Matt: Wait, fr?

You: Dead serious. I can’t picture anyone else for it. It’s just us in a car, vibing to the song. No acting, just being us.

A minute passed. Then another.

Just as you started to panic, your phone rang. Matt.

You answered immediately. “Don’t say no.”

A soft chuckle came from the other end. “I wasn’t gonna.”

You froze. “Wait… so you’ll do it?”

“I mean, yeah,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “I don’t know how good I’ll be, but if you want me there, I’m in.”

Relief flooded through you. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.”

Matt laughed. “So… does this mean I get to drive some fancy vintage car?”

You grinned. “Duh. Only the best for my Passenger Princess aesthetic.”

“Well,” he teased, “guess I’ll be your driver.”

The way he said it sent butterflies through your stomach, but you ignored it. This was just for the video. Just acting… right?

pt. 2 coming soon (tonight most likely I’m bored 😋😋) yall like???

[writingfics-passingtime]

Looking At Me by Sabrina Carpenter + Loki x reader! If you have an mcu character you’d like better for this then go for it! I’ve just really wanted to prompt you this song for a bit but didn’t know how.

This one-shot is part of JJ’s Mixtape - a mini series based on my followers’ favourite songs and characters. You can read more of them here!

Steal the Show

Song Prompt: Looking at Me - Sabrina Carpenter

Pairing: Loki x female reader

Word Count: ~2560

CW: swearing, innuendo/sexual jokes, threats of violence, objectification of the reader

Minors DNI: this work does not contain smut, but contains a romantic/suggestive relationship between the reader and adult-aged characters. I am not comfortable with engagement from anyone under the age of 18. Thank you for your understanding and respect.

Note: Thanks, anon! This sat, almost complete, in my drafts for well over a month because trying to end this fic felt impossible to get right, but I'm releasing it into the world and making peace with how it turned out. This song was so fun, thank you for sending it in!

The van smelled like stale coffee, ironically cheap deodorant, and your own frustration. The monitors flickered, casting a headache-inducing glow that only added to your mounting irritation.

You adjusted your earpiece as you stared at the ballroom feed, where Sophie Vallienne - the untouchable French billionaire dripping in couture - stood in the middle of her carefully curated world. The black diamond necklace she wore was your team's objective tonight.

Hidden inside that necklace was a microchip containing classified national security data - data she planned to sell to the highest bidder.

Your job? Sit in the van. Watch. Provide tactical support while the rest of the team got their hands dirty.

And dirty meant flirty; getting close enough, for long enough, for the micro jammers in your team's pockets to corrupt the data on the chip.

“Anything?” you asked through gritted teeth, eyeing the live feed where Sam leaned against the bar near Sophie, his boyish smirk in full force.

“She’s not biting,” Sam muttered. “Maybe she doesn't like Americans.”

“Maybe she doesn’t like try-hards,” Bucky’s voice cracked through the comms.

You glanced at another screen - one showing Bucky, all dark stubble and brooding stares, approaching Sophie by the champagne tower, only to get rebuffed embarrassingly fast.

“She’s a stone wall,” Bucky grumbled as he walked away without any successful show of interest. “No interest. Not even a flicker.”

“Perhaps she prefers her suitors with more refinement.” Loki’s voice purred through the line straight into your ear, deep and low, and you instantly bristled.

On the screen, he was moving toward Sophie, a sinuous shark among the crowd. His sharp black suit decorated his frame with tailored perfection, and even through the grainy surveillance feed, you could see the beautiful smirk tugging at his lips as he approached your target. Sophie’s gaze flickered to him, a polite smile gracing her features as he leaned in and-

Bastard! He shut his mic off so the rest of you couldn't hear his line.

For a moment, you thought he might succeed. But then Sophie’s smile faltered, her eyes glazing over with that same disinterest she’d shown Sam and Bucky. She excused herself, slipping away toward the bar without a backward glance.

Loki's voice cracked back to life in your ear. "That... should've worked."

“She’s losing patience,” you murmured, more to yourself than the team. "She's going to get suspicious if you guys keep pushing. Back off for a sec. Let me think." You rubbed at your temple, trying to piece together a Plan B.

“What’s your brilliant idea, Overwatch?” Loki’s voice drawled, a mocking edge to it. “Come now, I can hear the cogs turning.”

“Just give me a second to-"

And then you saw it. Sophie’s eyes lingered. Not on Loki, not on Bucky, not on Sam. They followed the sway of a cocktail waitress in a sleek dress, her gaze trailing up her legs and over her shoulders before sliding away.

The realisation hit you like a freight train.

“Oh, fuck me."

“What?” Sam piped up.

"You chuckleheads never stood a chance."

You were already yanking open the disguise kit you kept in the van, grasping for the nanotech bracelet, fingers fumbling to secure it around your wrist.

"What's wrong?"

"Our intel was shit, that's whats-" you finally conquered the clasp, letting out a huff of frustration and relief. "She's into women," you explained.

Why the hell couldn't Natasha be here instead?

“What are you doing?” Bucky demanded over the comms.

"Improvising."

The van’s limited space left you no choice but to strip right there, kicking off your boots and pulling off your practical black pants with a string of curses. The cold air hit your skin as you pulled up the bracelet’s holographic menu, scrolling quickly until you found a floor-length, elegant gown with a thigh-high slit and a neckline that made your stomach twist just looking at it.

The nanotech shimmered across your body, and you felt the dress form around you like a second skin, fitting you in ways you weren’t prepared for. You kept digging through the kit until you found a tube of lipstick perfect for your skin tone, applying it with a deadly hand.

After a few minutes of work, a quick glance in the van’s rearview mirror was enough to make your stomach drop.

You weren’t used to looking so…

Before you could give yourself time to doubt, you grabbed the spare jammer and attached it to a thigh holster, slipping it up the leg not exposed by the dress's slit.

After only a second's hesitation - what the hell am I doing? why do I think I, of all people, would be able to tempt anyone, let alone a beautiful woman like her? - you shoved the van door open, stepping out into the cool night air.

The stilettos pinched, the dress was too exposing, and you felt like you might vomit; never in your career had your armour provided so little protection.

But none of that mattered.

You were the only one here who had a chance at this.

So you threw your shoulders back, and strode toward the entrance of the hotel like you belonged there.

The ballroom swallowed you in a haze of glittering chandeliers and murmured conversations.

Heads actually turned as you walked in, eyes following the sway of your hips, the click of your heels. You ignored them, scanning the room for Sophie, but your eyes landed on him.

He was leaning against a marble column, drink in hand. His ocean eyes snapped to you, and for the first time since you’d met him, the ever-smirking God of Mischief looked utterly at a loss.

His gaze dragged over you, slow and deliberate, and your pulse quickened under the weight of it.

You felt exposed. Vulnerable. And yet, something in the way he stared made you feel like the most dangerous thing in the room.

“Holy shit,” Sam muttered over comms.

“Did anyone else know she could look like that?” Bucky added, his voice incredulous.

You scoffed. "I can hear you, asshole."

Loki’s voice cut through, low and venomous, directed at Barnes and Wilson. “Eyes on the target, not on her.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, but you didn’t dare look at him again. Instead, you moved toward the bar, your shoulders steady with feigned elegance, every step a performance.

You perched on the edge of a stool, crossing your legs as you gestured to the bartender for a drink, letting your body language shift into something soft and coy.

Sophie didn’t make you wait long. She appeared at your side like a shadow, her smile sharp and satisfied.

“You’re new,” she said. Her French accent curled around the words like smoke.

“I am,” you replied, letting your lips curve into a slow smile. Her eyes dipped to your mouth, lingering. You leaned in, letting your voice drop to a low, teasing murmur. “How sweet of you to notice.”

Her laugh was light, intimate. “How could I not?”

Somewhere across the room, Bucky sidled up to Loki. “Good gods,” he muttered, his voice low enough that it wouldn’t carry over comms.

Loki’s jaw tightened, his eyes fixed on you, gaze sharp enough to cut, hands flexing at his sides. “If a single finger is laid on her... I’ll break every bone in Vallienne's body.”

You leaned against the bar, swirling the last sip of champagne in your glass while Sophie Vallienne’s laugh slithered through your senses. She was so close, impossibly charming, her fingers swirling light patterns along the bar near your hand. You'd been flirting for the better part of ten minutes, and it was progressing. Quickly.

Her touch trailed onto your hand that was resting on the stem of a wine glass.

It sent a shiver up your spine, though you weren’t sure if it was from nerves or sheer absurdity of the situation. You’d never been the centre of such focused attention, let alone from someone as devastatingly beautiful as her.

“Tell me, what brings you here tonight?” Sophie asked, her voice a low, intimate murmur. Her perfectly painted lips curved in a smile that promised danger and delight in equal measure. “What caught your eye?”

“The Rembrandt. It called to me in a way I couldn’t ignore. I’m not usually the type to attend events,” you replied, and it wasn’t a lie. You weren’t used to playing this part, but something about it - about the thrill of being someone else, the control you felt over Sophie’s attention - was exhilarating.

Her eyes roamed over your face, lingering just a little too long on your mouth. “A shame. A woman like you shouldn’t hide.”

Your earpiece crackled, breaking the moment. Sam's voice came over the comms from your spot in the van. “And... done. The chip's fried. Let's move out."

You stiffened, and Sophie’s smile faltered. “Something wrong?”

You set your glass on the bar, shaking your head. “I’m spoken for,” you said, standing. “I shouldn’t have let myself get so… distracted,”

"Distracted, or tempted?"

"Both, if I'm honest." You offered an apologetic smile.

Sophie’s smile returned, sharper this time, but not unkind. “Should you ever find yourself unspoken for…” She stood and whispered some brief instructions on how to contact her, before backing away respectfully, and allowing you your leave.

Her gaze lingered as you stepped away, the heat of her attention following you through the crowd.

You pushed past a sea of glittering dresses and tailored suits, heart pounding in time with the sharp click of your heels on the polished floor. Your confidence waned the closer you got to the exit, the allure of the dress and the night and a beautiful person looking at you like that - all crashing back to reality.

None of it was real.

The cool night air hit you as you stepped outside, and you paused on the grand stone stairs to take a breath.

That was when you saw him again.

Loki was leaning against the railing near the bottom of the staircase, the faint glow of the streetlights catching on the sharp angles of his face. He looked up, and it was his eyes that caught you - they moved over your body, darkening with every inch they traveled.

You fought the instinct to cross your arms, to shield yourself from the way his gaze seemed to strip you bare. “Don’t start,” you said, your voice sharper than you intended as you started down the stairs. “I know what you’re going to say.”

“Do you?” he asked, his lips curving into a knowing smirk. He pushed off the railing, his movements slow, deliberate. "Enlighten me."

You rolled your eyes, the heat rising to your cheeks betraying the nonchalance you were aiming for. “You’re going to tell me I look ridiculous.”

Loki’s smirk widened as you stopped two steps above him, putting you level with his eye-line. “Ridiculous,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “is hardly the word I’d choose.”

The way he said it made your stomach flip. You rolled your eyes again, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck. “What word would you use, then? Enlighten me.”

“Dangerous,” he said simply. “In the kind of way that makes men stop thinking with their heads.”

You swallowed, the intensity in his tone catching you off guard. “Ha-ha” you started, trying to deflect with sarcasm, “I'm sure the rest of the team had a good laugh at this, too.”

“Oh, no one was laughing,” Loki replied, his gaze dipping briefly to your lips before snapping back to your eyes. “If I were you, I’d be careful around Barnes. He’s likely still piecing together a coherent thought.”

Your laugh was breathless, unbidden. You looked away. “Bucky wouldn’t look at me like that.”

Loki’s brow arched, his expression almost amused. “Everyone in that room... was looking at you like that."

You dared to glance up, instantly regretting it. His eyes were fixed on you, dark and wanting, but there was something else there, something that made your breath hitch.

"It's fascinating," he cocked in head in thought, "these mortal men are so blinded by their fleeting desires, that they only see beauty when it’s presented just so... gift-wrapped in silk and sequins." His voice dipped, rich and intimate, as he leaned close enough that you could start to feel the heat of him. “I’ve always known what you are.”

“Always known?”

“Always wanted,” he murmured, and the raw, unapologetic hunger in his tone sent a shiver down your spine.

The silence that followed between you was crushing, heavy with everything he wasn’t saying, everything you didn’t know how to respond to. You felt the heat coiling low in your belly. But you weren’t about to let him win this game. Not yet.

You smirked, trying to mask the weakness in your knees. “That’s a nice line, but I’m not in the habit of falling for silver-tongued gods.”

“No,” he agreed with a curious tilt of his head, the other way now. “You’re not in the habit of falling at all, are you?”

You shrugged with one shoulder. “Men talk. Big promises, sweet words. Yet somehow, I’m always the one left unsatisfied.”

Something flickered in his eyes - something dangerous, amused, and wickedly self-assured. “Ah, poor thing,” he drawled, the space between you shrinking with every word. “You’ve been wasting your time on mortal men, with their fumbling hands and unimaginative minds. You don’t have the faintest idea of what it feels like to be truly satisfied, do you?”

Your breath caught as you fought to keep your composure. “Like I said - big talk,” you said, your voice wavering slightly despite your best efforts. “But words are cheap.”

“Words are foreplay,” Loki countered smoothly. “And I never disappoint.”

Your eyes narrowed in challenge. “Do you rehearse this? Or is this just natural-born arrogance?”

His smirk deepened, like he could hear the pulse thrumming in your ears. He didn't answer, letting you seep in the abashment swarming through you.

Eventually, you scoffed, rolling your eyes. "I don't know why I'm entertaining this. You're just flirting for sport."

"You sound disappointed."

"I don't like being played with."

"Oh, you've no idea the ways I could play with you."

Heat and want surged through your body, a shattered, flustered cough escaping you. "You mother fu-"

“Hey,” Sam’s irritated voice interrupted. “Whatever weird, sexually-charged argument you two are having, save it for later. Get in the damn van.”

You stilled as the moment shattered. Gathering yourself before looking over his shoulder to the van. "Let's go then, Trickster. Back to reality.”

“Gladly," he stepped closer, leaning down to whisper low in your ear. "When it comes to you, reality is far more enticing that fantasy or facade... Think about what I said."

He stepped away, hands sliding into his pockets, turning his back and sauntering towards the van with an arrogance that made you want to hurl your shoe at his head.

Think about what I said- who in the hell does he think he is? And what part? He talked a lot of shit. Surely he can't... he can't mean any of it.

But as you followed, dutifully returning to your real life and real job, you stood a little taller, had more surety in your step. And you realised, alarmingly, that this newfound confidence had nothing to do with dress.

Because when you thought about all the things he said, something, deep down, whispered those four little words in his beautiful velvet voice:

Always known. Always wanted.

You were in so much trouble.

[ivyues]

Chasing Yesterday | 5 | - Bang Chan

Bang Chan x lost connection trainee friend

Years after splitting paths, Bang Chan didn't expect a simple text to bring an old friend – and old feelings – back into his life.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

After countless late nights together, the song was finally complete. Now, as you sat at your desk, gazing at the finished track on your laptop, a smile tugged at your lips – reflecting on the journey that had brought you here. 

Here, where your relationship with Chris had deepened to the point where you could proudly call yourself his girlfriend. If his bandmates had their way, though, you were already more than that; they jokingly referred to you as their "mother" behind your back. You knew it was only a matter of time before they let it slip in your presence. The more you got to know them, the clearer it became – they would seize any opportunity to tease your dear boyfriend. After all, that was just their way of showing love.

Your phone buzzed, breaking your thoughts. His name flashed across the screen, and without hesitation, you answered.

“Hey,” you greeted, already knowing why he was calling.

“Hey baby,” Chris’ voice came through, warm and familiar. “Did you finish it?”

“Just exported the final mix,” you confirmed, leaning back in your chair. “I’ll send it over now.”

There was a beat of silence before he asked, “Are you sure?”

You frowned slightly. “Of course. I mean, you put in just as much work as I did. If you want to use it for the group, go ahead. I don’t even need credit if it’ll keep things from getting messy.” You tried to keep your tone light, teasing. “As long as you know that I also gave birth to this song.”

Chris chuckled, but there was something thoughtful in the sound. “I know,” he murmured. “But… I wasn’t planning on releasing it.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What? But why? I thought you guys did some special songs for one of your concerts? It’s a great song after all, Chris. And you worked so hard on it, we both did—”

“I know,” he interrupted gently. “But some things don’t need to be seen by the whole world.”

Something in the way he said it made your heart stutter.

You swallowed, warmth spreading through your chest. “So you want to keep it just for us?”

“Yeah.” His voice was soft, sincere. “It can be just ours.”

A comfortable silence settled between you for a moment before Chris hesitated. You could hear the way he inhaled, slow and measured, as if he were preparing himself for something.

“Speaking of the concerts…” he sighed, the weight of his thoughts heavy in his voice. “I don’t want you feeling like you have to… but how would you feel about coming to one of ours? You don’t have to, it’s totally okay if you don’t. I just don’t want to not ask you in case you wanted—”

You cut him off before he could spiral further. “Chris, I don’t want to think about what could have been. I just want to support you and enjoy it.”

He was quiet for a moment before he exhaled, a mix of relief and something more complicated. “I just… I don’t want to show you what you could have had, even though it was never something you could have.”

You understood what he meant – understood the way his heart worked, always worrying, always caring too much. And yet, you had already made peace with the past.

-----

The concert was electrifying. You had seen Chris perform before, but never like this. He commanded the stage effortlessly, pouring raw energy into every lyric. It was mesmerizing. The bass thrummed through your chest, and every time his gaze flickered to your spot in the crowd, a secret smile tugged at your lips.

As you made your way towards the exit, your phone buzzed in your pocket.

Meet me backstage? 😉

You rolled your eyes fondly and typed back a quick On my way.

Security let you through without question – Chris had clearly made arrangements. Weaving past the crew packing up equipment, you found a quiet spot near the wall, pulling out your phone while you waited. The adrenaline from the concert still hummed in your veins, but you were content, scrolling idly through your notifications.

A sudden presence slid up beside you, too close, too fast.

“Heeey.”

A firm nudge against your shoulder sent you jolting forward with a startled yelp, your phone nearly slipping from your grasp. Heart racing, you turned sharply – only to find Chris grinning like a mischievous kid.

“You—” You smacked his arm, half-gasping, half-laughing. “I hate you.”

“Liar.” 

His eyes twinkled as he nudged you again, softer this time. He was practically vibrating with post-concert energy, the rush of the performance still coursing through him. His skin glowed with sweat, his hair a tousled mess, but he had never looked happier.

From a few meters away, a familiar voice cut through your flustered silence.

“Smooth move, man. Scare her—solid strategy.”

Chris only grinned wider, shameless. “Worked, didn’t it?”

You groaned, while he laughed, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. The warmth of his hold, the lingering thrill of the night, and the teasing lilt in his voice made it impossible to stay mad.

He leaned in, his voice quieter now – just for you. “I’m glad you came.”

You sighed, relenting, and let yourself melt into his embrace. “Yeah,” you murmured. “Me too.”

Before you could say more, Chris’s gaze flicked toward the stage area, his expression shifting.

“Oh—JYP’s here.”

You frowned. “What?”

He leaned in, lowering his voice. “Yeah, I just found out. They called me to film something with him real quick.”

Your breath hitched. Your eyes widened slightly before you quickly schooled your expression.

Chris noticed. “Wanna say hi?”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “He’s never gonna remember me.”

Before he could argue, movement in your periphery caught your attention. A group – including said person himself, some members, a manager, and a few staff – was on their way to pass by where you were standing, presumably for better lighting.

Your stomach twisted slightly. The last time you saw that person, you were told that you didn't make it, that you weren't enough.

At first, he barely glanced at you. But then, as you greeted him casually, his gaze snapped back, his expression shifting. Recognition flickered across his face before his eyes widened.

“Wait… Do I know you?”

Chris looked between you, intrigued.

You smiled politely. “I’m Y/N. We used to train together," you said gesturing towards Chris.

He exhaled, still looking stunned.

After a few moments of catching up, he turned to Chris and the others. “We were just about to go eat. You should come.” Then, his gaze flicked to you. “You too.”

You hesitated. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude—”

Chris nudged you. “Come on.”

You sighed, already knowing you’d lost. “Fine.”

His grin widened.

-----

The dinner was lively, filled with conversations that bounced between lighthearted jokes and deep discussions about the industry. You mostly listened, enjoying the energy of it all – until a music executive you showed your songs to when you were a trainee turned to you, his expression thoughtful.

"Are you still writing?"

You blinked, caught off guard. Across the table, Chris looked at you curiously.

You hesitated before answering. "A little. Just for myself."

He nodded, as if considering something. Then, casually, he said, "We’re always looking for new songwriters. If you have anything, send it in. No pressure, of course."

For a moment, the conversation around you blurred.

Chris' gaze flickered toward you, but he didn’t say anything. He knew – better than anyone – what this offer meant. What it stirred in you.

Your fingers curled around your glass. Once, an opportunity like this would’ve been everything to you. Once, you might have said yes without hesitation.

But now…

You liked your life. You liked music being yours – something you could love without the weight of deadlines, industry expectations, and the pressure to create for others. Your world was full of music already, but on your terms.

And you didn’t want to step back into an industry that had once drained the joy out of something you loved.

You exhaled, slowly. Then, with a small smile, you shook your head.

"I appreciate it," you said honestly. "But I’m happy where I am."

He studied you for a moment before nodding in understanding. "That’s good to hear."

Chris nudged your knee under the table, a quiet gesture, but when you met his eyes, there was nothing but pride there.

And just like that, the night moved on. No big moment, no regret.

masterlist

[xhollowfaerie]

Lavanda

a/n: ahhhh i reallyyy like how this came out, with the exception of me being a sleep deprived idiot and literally forgetting that Zara is already dead by the time Lucanis is First Talon (ik im a fucking dumbass) so ignore that part, but i liked the dialogue too much to scrap it, it is what it is. sung this song for hours while writing, pls listen if u can it's one of my favs and it adds so much to the atmosphere, it's very Rookanis to me <3 pps the elvhen destroyed my brain. i learned too many things. forbidden knowledge. enjoy💜 tags: demi4demi Rookanis, hurt/comfort, fluff, these little idiots are so in love, almost kiss, Rook runs Lucanis a bath, the smallest hint of spice (yes the concept art-inspired bath smut is on the way, i promise), Lucanis covered in scars is canon to me, body hair + happy trail Lucanis hehehe, dadbod-ish(?) Lucanis🤤, I overuse "mierda" but I like it too much

Rook was happily humming a bard song as her fingers danced along the pool of water, watching the ripples with a smile.

“She would always like to say,

Why change the past when you can own this day…”

Her pointed ears twitched as they picked up a familiar rhythm of steps approaching, causing her to bite her lip and smile even wider, tilting her head to the side.

“My, I was beginning to think the Crows had stolen you away again, Master Dellamorte…” Kore giggled, turning to face Lucanis.

Just as she had hoped, a blush dusted his cheeks.

“Don’t call me that, Rook” Lucanis blurted curtly, before clearing his throat. He was still the First Talon, it seemed, ready to give orders. “...please. It’s too formal.”

She covered her lips sheepishly, as she always did after her flirting and teasing.

“I’m sorry.” 

He hummed shortly. “Why don’t I believe you?”

The elf glanced away, trying to contain the flush of her own features as she gestured towards the steaming pool.

“Well… I ran you a nice, warm bath! Lavender and honey… to help you relax. You deserve it.” He took a deep breath of the scent into his lungs, sending a shiver down his spine.

Her voice softened, and her smile felt like a warm hug.

“You’ve been working so much, tending to your duties as First Talon. I can't imagine how stressful it must be.” Lucanis found himself at a loss around Rook again; they had gotten much closer, and she was always showering him with affection; with her attention, with her allure. 

Lavender was calming. Of course; the most popular remedy for trouble sleeping; but it was quite ironic that Spite had whispered that exact word into his ear at Pietra as he looked at her lips. Lucanis had begun to associate it with a more exciting feeling. The feeling Rook gave him every time they were together.

‘KISS. HER. LUCANIS! FIRST KISS. LAVENDER AND HONEY. SO MANY TIMES, SHE BRINGS IT UP. KISS HER, KISS HER!’

The Crow flushed a deeper shade of red, averting his eyes.

‘REMEMBER! COFFEE DATE. FIRST KISS! REMIND ROOK.’

Kore had… omitted the truth. In her desperation to flirt, she had pretended as if she had ever had a first kiss. Much like Lucanis, she could only suspect what it would taste like. In his mind, she was more experienced - sweet, relaxed, flirty, and, not to mention, breathtaking. He had seen the way Viper looked at her. His mind had filled in the rest. Albeit… inaccurately. 

Running him a bath… cooking together, for each other, making coffee… grocery trips, reading, comparing daggers… The domesticity that had grown so beautifully between them wrapped its hands around his neck, cutting his oxygen off.

He didn't want to ruin it. Everything. Her. What they had. He didn't know what to call it, but that couldn't matter any less. He knew he was her assassin. Her God Killer. He would be anything she ever needed. It was all he needed. To be useful to her. To be what she needs.

“How was Treviso?”

As her voice caressed his hearing, his shoulders slouched. The assassin let out a sigh, guard finally lowering; for just a split second, he unravelled his facade and visibly winced. It was so easy to forget himself around her, to allow himself to grow comfortable. Too comfortable. 

“It was-”

“Lucanis!”

She stood up and rushed to his side, looking up at him with doe-like eyes.

“You're hurt!”

His heart was bursting at the expression of concern on her face. He smiled in an attempt to console her. “I assure you, I'll live” he chuckled, but she furrowed her brows and puffed her cheek as she always did when she was frustrated with him. He tried again. “No pasa nada. I promise, Rook, it's nothing.”

“Mientes” she mumbled, reaching a hand up to straighten his collar. His eyes widened. The Antivan leaving her lips always took him by surprise. He stared at her dumbfounded as she pressed on.

“Does it hurt? Can I see?”

He blushed again, and took a moment to remember how to string words together.

“My… ribs.”

Her hands rested on his chest, and he felt her touch burning a fire inside of it through his clothes.

“Rook-”

“Please, Lucanis. Let me help you.”

Mierda, her eyes. How could he ever say no to them?

“You always take care of me… Let me do the same.”

He could feel the heat extending to his neck and ears, wishing desperately that she would be a lot worse at allowing him to open up, for once - it was getting considerably harder to stay away from her, to maintain a safe distance between them, especially as her hands ran down his chest with that look on her face that he couldn’t quite pin down.

‘Rook. Loves you. Loves Spite, loves us!’ Spite helped, inching closer to her. She briefly glanced at him, giggling as he grinned in her direction. Lucanis narrowed his eyes in confusion, but she quickly caught onto it and, scrambling to shift his attention, lifted a hand up to cup his face, her own catching on fire.

“Can you… open your shirt for me, please?”

The dryness in his throat physically hurt as he tried his best to gulp it down, feeling himself unable to move, or speak, or do anything other than admire her with what he knew was unbridled affection and… something else that he really hated himself for.

“L-Lucanis?” “Yes.”

His answer was immediate, breathless. None of them spoke any further or moved. They stared into each-other; she lovingly studied the sharp angles of his face as he delighted in the roundness of hers, wishing more than anything that his arms could wrap around her figure and hold her to his chest.

The simple dress she was wearing fit her so beautifully - he didn’t have the courage to mention he’d just bought her the one she mentioned she loved the last time they went to Treviso together. Had they met under different circumstances, he would have been convinced she was royalty; a Princess, a Goddess. The intricate elven markings on her face, the trails of lightning… he wanted to press his lips down the length of them, no matter how far they went - he would let them guide his mouth over her skin while he worshipped her for days.

“U-Um… s-should I…?” Kore finally broke the silence between them, feeling the intensity of his gaze crumbling her composure; his eyes were one of his sharpest tools, but they had never regarded her with anything other than delicate softness - well, that, and… w-whatever had filled them just now, making her skin tingle under the fabric of her dress.

As if she’d shocked him, Lucanis finally snapped out of it, idly clearing his throat and taking a step back as her hand fell from his face, scratching the side of his neck. “Y-N-No, I, uh, I can manage... Thank you, Kore.”

Kore pursed her lips, trying to suppress a smile. Her enchanted eye followed Spite as he circled around her, brushing the tips of their fingers together. When her green orb landed on Lucanis again, his dexterous hands were unbuttoning his vest, eyes following their motions. He shrugged it off effortlessly before removing his crow pin, untying and pulling his cravat off with one swift motion, causing Kore to almost lose her balance for a second, hand rushing to cover the gasp that left her mouth. He glanced at her with the same look from earlier, a natural charm and… almost… she was inclined to say hunger, but that thought made her want to scream into a pillow. He was about to say something, but Spite clamped his hand over his mouth, making Lucanis scowl for a moment.

‘SHUT. UP! She’s enjoying it! KEEP. GOING.’

Desperately shoving the embarrassment creeping inside him back down, Lucanis tore his gaze away from her again, focusing on his buttons, dextrous fingers twisting them out of their eyelets with cold precision. The elf felt her lips parting enough for her knuckle to peek through, sinking her teeth into her skin as she watched him breathlessly. Slowly, his large hands moved lower and lower, allowing her a glimpse of his body beneath the expensive, dark purple fabric; her heartbeat picked up as her eyes shyly explored the shape of his chest, his sun-kissed skin riddled with scars. 

When he reached the final button, he straightened himself awkwardly, feeling the fabric part as it exposed his abdomen to her. She shamelessly trailed the length of his dark hairs lower and lower, trying her absolute best to not get distracted by the enticing mix of muscle and softness. A large bruise bloomed the span of his ribs, right across a large, visibly newer scar. 

Her eyes widened, feeling the tears already welling up; instinctively, she stepped closer, lightly reaching to ghost her fingers over it. Oh, Maker, Maker, why, why did she have to look at him with such devotion, something he could never deserve, especially not from her.

“Oh, Lucanis…” Kore whispered, riddled with dejection. She glanced up at him, silently asking for his consent; he simply gave her a shy nod, nervously bracing himself for her touch.

When the soft tips of her fingers ran down his scar, he shuddered from head to toe, accompanied by the smallest grunt of pain. 

Exhilarating, just as he’d always imagined.

She tore her hand away, feeling the overwhelming guilt stab right through her heart; he immediately mourned its loss.

“Ir abelas, I’m so sorry-!” 

With a shaky hand, he reached to gently wrap his fingers around hers and brought her hand back to his abdomen, reassuringly pressing atop hers. His ears buzzed, feeling himself falling into a stupor of her touch.

“Don’t be.”

A tiny sigh of relief left her, but the heat in her face only worsened; her hand felt like it might catch on fire any second.

“It’s not your fault. Just a pesky wound that refuses to fully heal” he grumbled, glancing at Spite, who peeked out from behind Kore, lovingly twirling a strand of her pink hair, scowling. She couldn’t quite hear him yet, but he was much clearer to her now, making it easier to read his lips. The intensity of his emotions reached her through the Veil - the hatred, that burning desire for revenge.

‘Nnnnnrgh! Zara! Calivan! Spite remembers.’

Her jaw clenched, feeling the familiar rage bubbling inside her from the day they freed Lucanis, multiplied tenfold by her growing affection for him since. Lucanis saw her eyes flicker, the way they did when she used her magic to slam Venatori into the dirt, the rawness when she slit their throats. It was such a stark contrast to her usual sweetness, but he adored it all the same.

Maybe a little too much.

The hand dangling by her side sparked for just a split second before she grasped onto the skirt of her pink dress, shaking relentlessly. She stared up at him, and Lucanis felt a part of him shrink as another threatened to swell. He knew much too well what she was capable of - how terrifying she could be, how powerful of a mage, more powerful than she even realized.

A mage. And he was her mage-killer, sworn to her service for the rest of his days. Enthralled, but no, not by blood magic, not like before.

It took every ounce of his self-control to hold back from kissing her.

The way her fox-like eyes narrowed dangerously, feeling her hand heat up over his skin; Lucanis felt like he couldn’t breathe, and then she spoke in a low voice, almost reducing him to a trembling mess.

“We’ll find her, Lucanis, I swear it. And when we do? We will make her wish she was dead. She’ll pay for every. single. thing she’s ever done to you, if it is the last thing I do.”

Spite dragged a groan of arousal out of his throat before eyeing her hungrily, breaking into a chuckle. ‘Rooooooook! Sooo. Protective. Lucanisssss. Want to? Get on your knees. For her.’

The Crow let out a strangled noise, shaking - he couldn’t tell if her mouthing ‘shhh, I’m here, I’m right here, Lucanis’ as her fingers lovingly traced his scar as she punctuated every word made his shivers much better or much, much worse.

La sangre del Hacedor. It was too late. Far too late.

She was nested so deeply inside his heart that tearing her out would kill the only part of himself that made it possible to get up every morning, to pick up his daggers, to not give up on himself, to not despise the abomination in the mirror.

“Kore Mercar” he found her full name spilling from his lips, daring to inch in closer as her eyes watched him so adoringly, a sentiment mirrored into his own. She felt her knees grow weak, hearing her name laced with his irresistible accent, uttered with such fondness, it made her wonder if she was dreaming of him again. They shared a thought which remained unspoken; the words themselves served only to hold the meaning that everything between them all but screamed already.

I think I’m in love with you.

“You are something else… unlike anything I have ever known” he shakily breathed instead, delighting in the flustered expression on her face as she broke into a smile.

“Says the scary mage-killer who makes me coffee every morning…” 

Her honeyed voice alone was enough to drive him absolutely insane, to make him come undone from just the thought of it (as it had already…). It made him so vulnerable, especially when she whispered to him with those alluring, mismatched eyes, the twinkling specks of glitter on her eyelids, the length of her lashes. The fullness of her heart-shaped lips.

She was absolutely divine, and there was no deity, no Maker or whatever else, that could ever earn his undying conviction the way Rook had.

Her kissable lips pursed, preceding the coziest warmth that he’d ever felt enveloping the throbbing pain surrounding his ribs, calming it. He glanced down to see her hand light up, shaken to his core by the absolute adoration painted on her face - adoration, and… neediness.

A need to be helpful. To be careful with him. To praise him, to shelter him, to make him see just how much he meant to her. How he had saved her life.

But… she was hesitant. Scared. He felt her hand tremble and, as his was still steadied atop, he tentatively gave it a light squeeze -it seemed that was all she needed in order to feel safe, to allow herself to open up to him. 

“I-I’m… not very good at this” Kore admitted. “I only cause destruction, only bring death.” She averted her gaze, shining with tears. “Or so I’ve been told. But, it turns out, they were right.”

“Over my dead body” Lucanis suppressed a growl, worried he might scare her with the murderous instinct taking over him. The swirls of pink around her face bounced so beautifully as she looked at him again, unsure if she had heard him right.

“Anyone who wishes to ever speak to you like that again may do so over my dead body.”

Her free hand reached to hide her own face as he heard a small whimper, but he - urged by Spite - lovingly pried it away.

“Please, never hide from me. Your presence has already healed me in ways I never thought possible. You hold me- this team, together, you soothe our aches, you aid our every endeavour, believe in us when we have been wrought of every drop of faith in ourselves. Everyone - myself especially - would not be here without you.”

“Lucanis… I…”

Maybe he was just too intoxicated by her scent, by the rosemary oil in her hair, by the vanilla of her perfume, by the steam of lavender surrounding them, but he finally dared to face the dread inside of him as he slowly closed his eyes, moving his fingers towards her face, almost, almost holding that sacred space of softness between her jaw and neck into his palm, to bring her into him, finally finally, finally, be brave, for once -

“Hey, Rook? Taash told me you might be in here, do you still need more lavender flowe- aaah- oh!”

Their steps were quick and almost soundless as they both pulled apart in the blink of an eye; Kore tucked a stray lock of pink behind her ear as she flushed and Lucanis cleared his throat, timidly pulling on his collar to close the gap in the fabric over his chest.

“O-Oooh…!” Lace winced, making a face as the realization immediately hit her. “Sorry…! Don’t mind me! I was never here!”

Harding apologetically set the basket of lavender flowers down with a grin, tilting her head towards Kore with a nod of encouragement before she rushed off.

They both exhaled in sync, looked at each-other in surprise, then looked away again.

“I-I should, um, let you enjoy your bath, before it gets cold-”“Sí, I, it would be a waste for it to get cold-”

Their hurried voices overlapped before a dull silence settled.

She was the first to giggle, followed by a faint rumble from his chest. They finally faced each-other again, bright. Light. Beguiled.

“Gracias, Rook.” “De nada, Señor Dellamorte.” 

He shot her a scolding glance in an attempt to mask his bashfulness, met with a beaming smile as she brought the basket over to the side of the pool, kneeling down to scatter a few more lavender flowers into the water, glistening with whimsy. Her words were soft and song-like, tenderly infusing it with her magic.

“Sul ladaral i nehn, sul lanun'ven'ur'alas. Sur on'ala sal'shiral…sul…sul lath.”

(For healing and happiness, for good luck. For a wonderful/long life. For…for love.)

He had no idea what the Elvhen rolling off her tongue meant, but it made his heart sing all the same as she gave him a small bow and a sweet ‘ma serannas’ (thank you), leaving him to bask in the relaxing scent. He took another deep breath into his lungs, feeling his eyes roll back, feeling the warmth of her healing still engulf him so lovingly, feeling the memory of her delicate hand on his scar. He exhaled, unbuttoning the hems of his sleeves, letting the shirt slip off his shoulders. Two fingers reached for his forehead as he closed his eyes. He flushed a few shades deeper still, bringing more fingers to cover his face in embarrassment.

“Mierda.”

Spite huffed in annoyance, his patience with Lucanis running thinner by the day. He sat on the edge of the pool, swinging his feet into the water with a grumpy pout. ‘Want to. Take bath. With Rook. Take. Rook. Undress her. Wash her. Pretty hair.’

Lucanis finished undressing and sunk into the warm, periwinkle water, letting out a sigh of exhilaration as he imagined Rook against him. He pictured her dainty, loving hands soaping his body with utmost care; he wanted to caress her breathtaking shapes, feel every inch of her, every curve fitting perfectly in the palm of his hands; he wistfully pretended he could bury his face into her pink locks, inhaling her scent; imagined the damp, silken sensation of her wet hair between his digits as he shampooed it, holding it in deep devotion as she recited his name. He rested against one of the walls and rolled his head back, feeling the dull ache in his abdomen lessening, allowing his exhaustion to finally rob him of his consciousness as he dozed off, mumbling quietly.

“Spite?” “Yes?” “Cállate.”

[nani-nonny]

Whispers of Distant Souls - Ch.14 sneak peek (#1)

Blue’s and Purple’s faces immediately light up with a growing smile, holding each other’s hands in silent awe. Yellow’s, Red’s, and Orange’s faces drop in shock and awe as they stand silently watching Draxum rub his cheek. Splinter points and laughs where Leonardo left him, nudging Casey to look at the pained yokai.

“This is what I receive after stabilizing your mystic energy for over eight hours?” Draxum asks grouchy as he motions for Orange and Red to help him to his feet again.

“You didn’t tell me it would hurt, I felt like I was dying,” Leonardo answered sharply.

Draxum waves off Leonardo’s retort and says, “It is nothing you can’t handle.”

Raphael’s voice echoes, “Forgot he used to be an ass.”

Leonardo snorts in response, a smile crawling up his cheeks before he realizes how it might look to the others in the room.

Purple leans in Yellow’s direction to whisper aloud, “Oh my sweet gardenias, he’s lost it.”

*mischievous cackle* It has begun, bring in the wall!

But seriously, my mind is doing flips and tricks trying to keep up with all the people in this one room. It hasn’t been easy hahaha (that and I’m restraining myself from jumping to the “fun” part (restrain is actually code for stop making it angsty this is not the vibe you’re going for))

[pardonmydelays]

if you log out of this hellsite i do not blame you bc it does suck here but i will very much miss your presence 😢♥️

omg thank you so much! 🥺

yes, it really sucks to be here right now... i literally had to unfollow 100+ swifties to clear my dash cause i was sick of seeing people who are defending all her actions & shitting on joe alwyn for no reason. still, i don't even have the energy to scroll tumblr so all i do is check my messages from time to time. i definitely need a break, but seeing things like that in my inbox makes me want to think it through once again. ❤️

[rosicheeks]

oh yes you were at court! i forgot that was at the start of that post lmao. i've been to court twice when i was super young for drinking underage and then smoking lool it was so boring and long and shit but thankfully you were just there for moral support, i hope it wasen't such a bad thing your friend had to deal with! I remember seeing you post about moving but i forget if it was TO or AWAY from your parents but that clears it up. I totally get you on that though, i'm living at home right now and i feel kind of similar about not feeling comfortable in your own home. Its a bit different for me, but similar enough. Hell my stepdad even sleeps in the living room too! hes always done that so ive always felt like i had to be on eggshells when night time hit. I used to sneak smoking in the backyard back in the day myself, i got caught once when i was in highschool he made me throw all my pieces out which sucked big time. ahhh i love that, art! you should totally show more stuff on here too, at least if you're comfortable and its not stuff you'd wanna sell, i would absolutely love to see any of it 🖤i've dabbled in writing poems and things i planned to make songs, although only recently. I've always wanted to be a musician but my attempts at learning guitar over the years have never ended up lasting long and i try to learn singing but i just dont really think i can. plus i was always afraid of self expression so i never wrote until a few years ago. i still do, because music is so important to me (which is why i did pick 🎤!) and it makes me so happy but yeah. i have 2 shows im headed to in a few months even so im so excited 🥰my day though has been so boring, i mostly played video games and watched youtube videos. watched another episode of a show i've been watching called Silo, which i absolutely love. im so surprised you had room in your tags still after myself lmao, but i do that same thing i always talk in the tags! also i'm giving you tons of hugs and kisses 😘🥰 - 🎤

Hi hi hi ☺️ how are you doing lovely? 🥰

[napoftustar]

my best friend came to me said “one of our friends wanted to know try out kpop and while others were sending blackpink, exo, bts songs i sent her txt!!! i’m the best, right???” HAHAHSGQGSHFJFJEJKDMQHF and i was like “proud of you lil soldier” hahsbdnwjqkdjxdmwkkf

[fumiliar]

self-restraint is one thing kento prides on. he is a good man, or at least he tries to be. his eyes landed on your flailing figure, pinching his nose bridge to prepare himself. you, gojo, kento and shoko went out for drinks to celebrate the fact you 4 were still alive.

your mind was blank, you had no self-control, it was like the shame centre in your brain got turned off.

"oh my god!" you squealed in excitement. "my favourite song!" you stumbled off your bar stool, going to stand up on the table, gojo supporting your brave act.

kento acted quick. right when your foot landed on the table, you were pulled back by an immeasurable amount of strength, your back landing on someone's muscular chest.

"how drunk are you?" a gruff voice spoke right beside your ear, sending shivers through your whole body. your senses were already heightened, but at this moment, you could feel everything. you could hear the fastening rhythm of your heart, along with the steady rhythm of another's.

"earth to y/n~," satoru's singsong voice echoed through your empty head.

"yea, sorry," you shook your head, turning around to see kento's disapproving look. his hand keeping a deathly grip on your wrist, ensuring you were always close to him, in case you'd do something embarrassing, or at least that's what he tells himself.

"y/n, i'll bring you ho-"

"don'tt, you're such a party pooper nanamin! we were just getting started," the blue eyed man whined, he looked like he was about to start a tantrum.

"yeah, let's just wrap it up, i wanna go home," shoko agreed with kento, getting ready to leave. "i'll leave y/n to you, gojo, come." satoru following shoko like a sad puppy.

"let's go home," kento used his free hand to pack up your stuff, double checking if you took anything out of your purse.

"you're so hot when you take care of me," you freely complimented kento, his ears slowly turning beet red.

"i like you kento, you know that right?" you kept talking, kento's face slowly turning a darker shade of red. "why are you so red? are you having a fever?" you used your free hand to feel his forehead, even in your drunken state, you still worried about his health.

"no...y/n. i'm fine," he put your bag on your shoulder as he led you out of the establishment.

"ow....my feet hurt ken," you pouted looking down at your heels.

restrain yourself kento. restrain. was the only thing he could think off as he looked back at you. he didn't want to take advantage of your drunken self. he knelt down as he took of your heels, you bracing yourself on his back. he slowly took your hand of his back, putting down your heels on the ground to take off his blazer.

"up," his back facing you as he knelt down. you weren't going to waste a chance getting piggy backed. instantly, your arms slid around his neck as your legs trapped his torso. kento stood up, picking up your heels and adjusting his hold on you.

"comfy?" you nodded against his neck. "take this, and wrap it around your waist," he handed you his blazer. you instantly listened, wrapping the blazer around your waist, making sure you don't flash anyone along your way home.

"ken, you're so good to me," you mumbled, nibbling on his neck, eliciting a groan out of the man.

"you're such a tease," kento chuckled, smiling to himself at his current predicament.

"we're not even dating....hft," you sighed. kento let out a hearty laugh at your dissatisfaction.

"why do you want us to date?" kento asked making you even more disappointed.

"what woman doesn't want stability!" this time you were annoyed. you straightening your back, not leaning on kento's anymore. kento was still joyful, instead of responding to your annoyance, he loosened his grip on your legs, your instincts kicked in, quickly wrapping your hands around his neck once more to ensure your safety.

"were you about to drop me??" panic was evident in your tone, but kento was still amused. "answer me!" your hand hitting on his chest.

"y/n," kento sternly called out your name, abruptly stopping your abuse on his chest. "we're married love, isn't that the epitome of stability? why would i regress our relationship to just boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"huh?..." you were confused for a second, quickly looking at your hand. and there it was, glistening in the moonlight, your wedding ring. "oh.."

kento couldn't help but tease your drunken self, his self-restraint always wavering when it came to you. the prim and proper man turning playful in your presence, he just couldn't help it. he continued his walk home, occasionally giggling at your forgetful nature.

"i hope you don't forget this moment," kento muttered under his breath, knowing full well you would have no memory of this event, only a pounding headache to remind you of yesterday's events.

[totalswag]

hii, I’m not sure if you take request still but if so is there a possible way you can do a drew x singer!reader one shot take on how Sabrina “arrests” her fans before performing Juno for being too hot but the reader does it to Drew during her shows please 🫶🏼

arrested for being too hot — DREW STARKEY

authors note THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS!! my request box is still open so feel free to send me any ideas regarding singer!reader or regular fic ideas you’d like me to write. this was so much writing too. thank for all the love on my last fic lovies <3

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summary "arresting" drew, your boyfriend, during your show before performing your song from your new album.

warning(s) none!

You are on tour for your new album in-front of thousands of fans almost every night. You worked hard on this album and it turned out wonderfully. If it weren’t for the amazing fans of yours, you don’t know where you’d be in your career— they are the reason you are doing this.

Half way into the show— going amazing. The crowd tonight isn't disappointing you. Everything you've hoped for on this tour. You've performed eighteen songs and about to go onto your nineteenth. Played musical spin the bottle not long ago which was really fun.

Before Juno, you begin with a small "skit" where you call someone out in the crowd, arresting them for being too hot. This became a thing after your first show of the tour and doing it ever since. Plus, fans absolutely love it. Interacting with your fans has always been something you did and create those bonds.

Drew, your boyfriend, is attending the show with Madelyn Cline, a mutual friend and cast-mate of Drew's. You told him earlier today you wanted to arrest him in the middle of the show to get the audience excited and it would be fun.

Drew was all for it, and he didn't want you to tell him what you were going to say—he prefers surprises.

Your pink, glittering, dazzling clothing was sparkling in the lights. You pressed your free hand to your brow as though you were looking around for a call. With security, you could see Drew and Madelyn making their way to the front.

You begin by adjusting your earpiece while moving around the stage in your long skirt. "You guys know that moment when you are in a room filled with such beautiful looking people that you start to feel overwhelmed?" When fans applaud, you smile.

"Oh, girls, I think I just seen my future husband in the front row! Oh my god, girls, come here, come here," you say anxiously into the microphone, beckoning them over and waving your free hand.

You turn to face Drew as the girls approach you, asking, "Do you see that gorgeous looking man over in the front row with his arms crossed in the tan shirt?" You speak into the microphone aloud, pointing to Drew in the crowd.

Your girls joyfully waved at Drew while placing their hands on your shoulder. As Drew blushes on the big screen, the crowd reflexively turns up the volume in the arena. 

"What's your name handsome?" With your head cocked slightly to the right toward your shoulder, you inquire in jest. 

"Drew!" You can hear him when he places his hands on the side of his lips. He gives you a childlike smile and a flushed face.

You say, "I'm sorry I couldn't get that?" as though you couldn't hear him. Leaning forward more, you place your free hand behind your ear.

He shakes his head and utters "Drew!" a little louder. 

"Oh my Drew, I must say that you must be a magnet because you drew me in" brings a smile to your face. Your tone indicated that you were trying quite hard not to laugh, yet you kept your calm brilliantly.

Fans had their phones out, capturing the entire interaction. Nobody would have expected Drew to be the person arrested at your gigs since the tour began.

"Drew, you are under arrest for being too hot," you say aloud, smiling and pointing at him— fanning yourself, moving your hips side to side as the sound of sirens going off with blue and red lights behind.

You put your left elbow against your girls shoulder, "guys do you ever just see someone so good looking that you just don't know what to do and all your clothes fall off in that moment" your long skirt slips off smoothy.

"Like your brain just like malfunctions and like I just wanna handcuffed to you now like," one of your girls puts the pink fluffy handcuffs into your hand, you kneel down, "do you know what I mean? Will you take these from me?"

Drew is overwhelmed in this very moment— it's very obvious how much you are affecting him. Drew gives you a gimme me gesture with his fingers, ready to catch the hand cuffs.

He takes them in his hands, looks down, and feels the smooth texture of the fuzzy. He tilts his head to the side before slowly glancing up at you with a smirk—keep in mind that he's still on the big screen.

"We're gonna sing this one to you, Drew."

Juno's song intro starts playing. You wave goodbye to Drew and Madelyn as you return to the center of the stage. You could hear the two begin speaking to fans in the distance.

Drew and Madelyn met you in the dressing room following the show. After giving Madelyn a hug and thanking her for attending the event, you moved to approach Drew and put your arms around his neck while grinning.

"That was insane," Madelyn exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. "What about the full call-out and the handcuffs? Iconic! "You're the talk of the night; everyone is crazy about it."

You giggled as your face heated up. "It seemed right." "You should have seen his face!"

She laughs, "I got the whole thing on video, I'll send it to you later."

"I'm going to give you two some alone time, but you did such an amazing job tonight and looked so hot doing it," Madelyn adds, taking your hands in her and wiggling her brows. 

"Thank you, babe. I love you always," you say, hugging her before she leaves you and Drew alone. 

When you close the door, Drew comes behind you, placing his arms around your waist and kissing you on the cheek, making you laugh with the tenderness of his lips.

"I'm so proud of you baby, you did such an amazing job on stage and looked unbelievable in your outfits made me feel like the luckiest guy in the entire world." He expresses emotionally, which uplifts you. 

"Coming from you, it warms my heart baby. Forever grateful to have you in my life," you smile softly, leaning against his chest, feeling that sense of warmth you always feel whenever you are with him.

"And I'm forever grateful for you" he quietly responds, kissing the top of your head.

"So what are we gonna do with those pink fuzzy handcuffs?"

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[thebestandworstdayofjune]

in the refrigerator light

summary: you are somehow unprepared to run into Logan while on the quest for a midnight snack... in the house you both live in. wc: 1.9 k a/n: to be fair I did warn you that this would happen. I have a few more ideas kicking around in my head, but feel free to send requests if you have any! this doesn't take place during any particular movie, fyi, but you and Logan are both teaching at the school warnings: fluffy fluff, mutant!reader, empathic powers!reader, soft!Logan

You should have been asleep. Even after choosing to stay on at the school past your education, you’d had a hard time shaking habits of the past. It still felt strange to walk freely into professor only areas, and you were always in bed by 11:00 pm every night. Sneaking down to the kitchen to steal one of the chocolate bars you knew Scott had stashed deep in the back of a cabinet felt wrong, but the siren song was too strong to resist. 

You’d been quiet, making sure to avoid the creaky stair (third from the bottom on the right) before shuffling into the kitchen. You rubbed at your eyes as you made your way to the proper cabinet. The only problem being that it was much higher up than you remember. It was times like these that made you wish for a more helpful mutation, like telekinesis or at least a few extra inches of height. You struggled for a few moments, on your tippy toes, stretching your arm as far as you could reach before you gave up. You sighed, raking your hands through your hair and making your peace with the fact that chocolate was not in your future tonight. 

“Scoot over, bub.” You jumped and let out a small shriek, before clasping a hand over your mouth. It was rare that anyone got the drop on you these days, your power more finely tuned and emotions tending to be strong around the manor, but your guard was decidedly down in the place you’d called home for so many years. But Logan was an exception to many rules. HIs hand gently gripped your wrist, pulling you against his chest for a brief moment before moving to stand in front of the cabinet. He reached up into the cabinet, the zip up hoodie he wore pulling up to expose a few inches of his stomach before pulling down a few bars of chocolate with ease. He smiled, the crinkles by his eyes more prominent in the low light of the kitchen. You did your best to appear like you hadn’t just been ogling him. 

“How did you know-”

“Scott’s shit at secrets.” He huffed, rolling his eyes. “You think he’d learn by now to not be such a loud mouth in a house full of people with enhanced hearing”. 

Your laugh was quiet, muffled by your hand in the interest of not waking the others. “Well, in that case, I hope one of those is for me.” 

Logan shrugged, eyes full of mirth. “What’ll you give me for it?” 

You blinked, unsure of yourself. You weren’t used to this Logan, yet. He was usually gruff and reserved, always reluctant to give into the kids in his history class that were trying to derail the lesson with a joke or two. He’d been playful a few times in your presence, and it almost always made you worried that the other shoe was about to drop. Seeing him in pajama pants and a soft grey sweatshirt only added to the strangeness situation. 

For the briefest moment, you considered using your powers. A single touch and you would know exactly how he was feeling. It was a blessing and a curse, to be able to be sure of how others were feeling with a single touch. A god-send on intel gathering or stealthy missions, a terrible temptation at midnight alone in the kitchen of the manor with the man you had harbored a crush on for as long as you’d known him. You make to grab one of the bars out of his hand, but he is too fast for you, quickly lifting them over his head. Your eyes narrowed. 

Fine, two can play at this game. You roll your shoulders back, drawing up your courage. “Depends what you want for it.” 

Logan grinned, dropping his arms and holding the bars behind his back. “Well, what I don’t want is to be an accomplice in your quest for cavities. Chuck’d have my head if he found out I had a part to play.”  

“I’m a big girl, Logan. I can take care of myself” You grab for the chocolate, but he’s too quick for you. For a brief moment, the two of you stare at each other, the moment charged. You lunged for the chocolate again, but Logan is already halfway across the kitchen, waving the chocolate around teasingly. 

“Logan, please” you laugh, following around the island. He cocked his head to the side, smirk playing at the corner of his lips. You were seconds away from stomping your foot and demanding he hand the chocolate over, when his smirk grew into a grin. 

“Alright bub,” he made his way around the island, depositing one of the chocolate bars in your hand. “You know I can’t say no to you.” 

You did your best to tamp down the butterflies that suddenly made a home in your stomach, but his smile was so gentle and he looked so soft, it was hard not to feel a little lovestruck. You snapped a piece of the bar off, and held it out to him. You dutifully busied yourself with breaking off a piece for yourself, ignoring the way that his affectionate gaze seemed to never leave you. 

“You’re not usually up this late,” he says, holding his hand out for another piece. You shrug, dropping another section into his hand. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” 

“Welcome to the club.” You knew that Logan had trouble sleeping, he was usually the first one hunched over a cup of coffee in the mornings, steadfastly ignoring inquiries into how he slept. 

“I, um” You hesitated. Usually offers of using your powers didn’t go well. You took a breath, steadying yourself. The worst he could say was no, right? “I could help with that, if you want.” 

Logan reached out, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. You could tell your eyes were the size of saucers, but you couldn’t find words. After a few moments, Logan took a step back, shaking his head slightly. You blinked owlishly, taking a breath to steady yourself. 

“That’s sweet of you, bub. But I wouldn’t want to tucker you out.” It was no secret around the house that although you had a less physical mutation, it still took some of your energy. Sensing emotions was as natural as breathing, but influencing them was newer, and took much more focus. 

You pointedly glanced at the clock over the stove, noting that it was well past any reasonable bedtime, before facing Logan once more. “That actually sounds really nice.” He mumbled something about not wanting to take advantage of you, but the words died in his throat when your hand found his own. You looked up at him through your lashes, hoping that he would be able to see how earnest you were being. “I don’t want to force you, but I want to be asleep more than anything, and I can tell that you are too wound up about something to even begin to fall asleep.” 

His thumb stroked over the back of your hand a few times, before he stepped around you and led you out of the kitchen. You expected him to turn towards the living room, where you’d caught him ‘resting his eyes’ a few times in the middle of the day. Instead, he turned right making sure to skip the creaky stair (third from the bottom on the right) and right up to the door of your room. 

“A bit presumptuous, no?” You asked, before opening the door and walking through. 

Logan rolled his eyes, leaning against your doorframe. “I was there the first time you tried this. Figured it was best that no one has to pick you up off the floor.” 

You felt your face grow hot, remembering the unmitigated disaster that had occurred the first time Charles suggested that this application of your powers was a possibility. Your chin tilted up, doing your best to project confidence. “Well, it’s been a while since then, I’ve gotten better.” 

If the lighting had been better, you would have seen the faintest pink blush coloring his cheeks. “Rogue’s in my room.” You couldn’t help it, your eyebrows shot up near your hairline. “She and Bobby got into a fight, she wanted somewhere she would be left alone.” His hands were twisting in the pockets of his sweatshirt as he ducked his head down low. 

“Is that why you were prowling around the kitchen?” He rolled his eyes, but nodded all the same. “Well, do you wanna stay here tonight?” He looked like he was about to object, but you held your hand up, effectively silencing him. “You’re doing a favor for Rogue, let me do one for you.” 

“Thought you were already doin’ me a favor, sweetheart.” He protested, all while moving towards your bed. 

You perched on the edge of your bed, consciously doing your best to keep your heart rate in check. The students always joked that between Charles and Jean’s mind reading and Logan being able to hear cheaters hearts speeding up, it wasn’t even worth it to try and cheat in class. It hadn’t occurred to you that if he could hear your heart fluttering, he could definitely hear the measured deep breaths you were taking to mitigate the issue. 

You reached for his hand, and he accepted it readily. His palm was shockingly smooth under yours, it must be from his regenerative powers. Your thumb gently ran across his knuckles, still slightly red from the training session he’d had with some of the students earlier in the day. You tugged on his arm slightly, and he lowered himself down onto the bed beside you. “I thought that it’s important to work as a team, sometimes.” 

“You spyin’ on me, bub?” You sheepishly meet his eyes, but find nothing but tenderness waiting for you. “I’ll try to forgive you.” He drops a kiss on your knuckles, before motioning for you to lay down. “I’ll take the floor.” 

You tightened your grip on his hand. If he really wanted to, he could have broken away easily. Instead, he paused, eyebrows raised and waiting for an explanation. “Not much of a favor if your back hurts in the morning from sleeping on the floor” you shrugged. 

“Only if you’re sure-”

“Just get in the damn bed Logan.” He grinned, pulling back the covers and slipping into the bed. You followed shortly after, and slipped your hand back into his. The both of you laid in silence for a few moments, adjusting to your new arrangement. You were nice and toasty warm, able to feel the heat radiating off him under the covers. You were in the middle of working up the courage to actually use your powers, when soft snores began to emanate from the other side of the bed. You chanced a glance towards him only to find his lashes gently fanned out over his cheeks, and his chest rising and falling with his steady breathing. 

After a few moments, you followed him into dreamland. In the morning, you woke up with his arm firmly around your waist, feeling fully rested for one of the first times in your life. Again, you waited for the awkwardness to come, for your face to flush and your stammer to pick back up, but you were left waiting.

feedback is very much appreciated, as I’ve never written for Logan before! let me know what you think <3

next part

[imaginedisish]

Modern Love (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey y'all! Here's something short and sweet. This is based on a request, so I hope the requester enjoys :) No song references here, but "Modern Love" by David Bowie seems appropriate. It's 80s, New Wave-y, and we're in an arcade in this fic, so it fits.

Summary: The team goes out to an arcade, and Logan is his usual grumpy self...but his soft spot for you is more clear than ever.

Warnings: Suggestive content (would totally write a second part with some true smut), tooth rotting fluff, friends to lovers, kissing, cursing, f!reader/afab!reader, grumpy!Logan, Jubilee is a cock block LOL, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 1,685 short and sweet indeed

“I do not want to be here,” Logan complains, rolling his eyes as the team strolls into the arcade. 

Jubilee skips inside, twirling with excitement. “Well, that’s just too bad, Logan!” She calls, running over to the arcade’s version of Dance Dance Revolution. Kurt is laughing, following at her heels. “Because everyone else is going to have a great time!” 

“Gambit’s winning big tonight,” Gambit says, taking Rogue’s hand in his. “Gambit’s winning chere a prize, he is.” Rogue blushes, letting Gambit pull her to one of the fake slot machines. 

Jean and Scott walk over to an older machine—Pac-Man or something similar, probably. Storm and Charles head towards the seating area near the snack bar in the back, leaving you and Logan to yourselves. Of course. You’re alone with Logan. The person you want but you know you can’t have. 

You’re friends—just friends. You’ve accepted that he’ll never see you as anything more, but it still hurts. 

“So…” You say, trailing off as Logan looks around the arcade. “Not your kind of place, huh?”

“Not particularly,” he says back, his eyes finding yours. You can’t help but smile at that stupid, grumpy look on his face. “You like this shit?” He asks, smiling back at you. 

You shrug your shoulders, noncommittal. “I think you’d have fun if you tried,” you say, nodding towards the crane machine, and walking over. You can hear Logan’s footsteps against the carpet, following you close behind.

You peer into the glass, looking at all the stuffed animals filling the machine. Your smile widens when you spot the cute little turtle in the back—green and brown, wide eyes, and extra plush and round. Logan leans against the machine, arms crossed tightly against his chest. “Which one are we going for?” He asks. We—you can’t help but replay the word in your head. There’s a “we” in this. You and Logan. 

You point to the turtle in the back row. “We’re going for that one,” you say, and his eyes find the green little thing. “Isn’t he cute?”

He shakes his head, grinning ear to ear, his grumpiness seemingly gone now. “Sure, princess, sure he is.” 

Your breath hitches in your throat at the sound of the familiar pet name. You lean down to put a quarter in the machine, trying your best not to overthink the situation. The crane starts up, whirring to life, giving you three tries to win the stuffy. 

You maneuver the crane to the back row, just above the turtle. “Do you think that’s good?” You ask, looking towards Logan. But he isn’t looking at the machine; he’s looking at you, smirking. “What?” You ask, narrowing your eyes incredulously. 

“You’re cute when you concentrate,” Logan says, his smirk unwavering. You can feel the heat rising to your chest as he peers into the machine. He nods, his eyes finding yours again, changing the subject before you can respond to his comment. “Looks good to me.”

You swallow nervously, pressing the button on the top of the stick, sending the crane down to the stuffy. It grabs the turtle, holding it up. It looks like it’s going to make it, but it falls in the center of the glass box. You groan, annoyed as the crane moves back to position. You try again, bringing the crane to the center of the machine, just above the turtle, and dropping it again. The silver claws grip the plushy, but it’s a bad grab—the turtle slipping right out of its grasp. 

 “Fucking rigged,” you mutter, moving the crane over the turtle for the final time. “This is it,” you say, looking at Logan. He’s suddenly shifting closer to you, standing behind you and pressing his front to your back. His arms rest on either side of the crane machine’s controls, caging you in. 

“Much better view from here,” he whispers at the shell of your ear. You’re distracted by how close he is. You can smell him—tobacco and pine and musk. “Let’s see if it works, princess.” This is too much. Far more than you can possibly handle. 

You take a deep breath, your eyes surveying the crane’s distance from the turtle carefully, and you press the button. The crane drops, grabbing the stuffy, and picking it up successfully. “Yes!” You say, looking back at Logan. His face is inches from yours. You can feel his breath fan across your lips. Your noses are so close, brushing together softly. He leans in, lips parted. 

“Game over!” A robotic, automated voice rings out, the crane whirling back into position. It snaps you back to reality, and you look inside the machine. There, off to the side just next to the machine’s drop box, is the turtle. 

“Shit,” you mumble, shoulders slumping with disappointment. You know it’s just a game, and you are an adult after all, but you can’t help the frown that forms across your face. “I really wanted him. I was gonna name him Bernie.”

Logan chuckles. “Bernie?” he asks, and you nod. He’s centimeters away from you again, leaning in. “Don’t sweat the loss, princess. You’re cuter than that little thing is anyw—"

“Look what Kurt and I got with our tickets!” Jubilee is suddenly in front of you, a stuffed, sparkly blue dinosaur in her hand. She’s tugging you away from Logan and across the arcade before you can protest. “You gotta dance with me!” You look back at Logan, who’s standing alone in front of the crane machine, arms tucked against his chest. 

Have fun, he mouths. And good luck. He winks at you as Jubilee whisks you off to Dance Dance Revolution. You let her pick the song, and you struggle through the round, your feet tapping to the beat. You and Jubilee are a laughing mess. You know you look absolutely ridiculous, but it’s fun. 

And yet, your mind still wanders to Logan. You think about how close he was to you, the way his lips practically brushed against yours—the ghost of a kiss. You think about the way he caged you in, pressed against your back. You’re so distracted that you don’t even realize how badly you’re fumbling all the moves; you don’t hear Jubilee calling your name. 

“Hey!” She shouts, finally bringing you back to reality. The round is over; you missed the entire second half of the dance. “Where’d you go just there?” She asks, concern hidden within her smile.  

You look over to the crane machine, expecting to see Logan, but he’s gone. In fact, you can’t find him anywhere. “Sorry Jubes, but I gotta go see about something,” you say, stepping off the platform. 

Your eyes search the arcade. Gambit and Rogue are at the ticket redemption counter, picking out a big stuffed bear. Kurt is fooling around on one of those motorcycle racing games. Storm and Charles are—uncharacteristically—sharing a soft pretzel, while Jean and Scott share a milkshake. Everyone is here and accounted for except Logan. 

That is, until you notice the puff of smoke in the corner of the glass door at the front of the arcade. You smirk, walking towards the entrance and pushing the door open. 

Logan leans against the brick wall of the building, cigar in his mouth. His head turns towards you, and he immediately takes the cigar out, dropping it to the ground and extinguishing it with the heel of his boot. 

“Hi,” you whisper, standing next to him. 

He looks down at you, smiling widely. “Hi.” He’s leaning in again—so close—and a shiver runs up your spine. “Cold?” He asks, shrugging out of his leather jacket before you have a chance to answer. He helps you into the jacket one arm at a time, his eyes drinking you in once it’s on, trailing up and down your body. “Looks good on you,” he hums. “Way better than it does on me.”

You shake your head, letting your shoulder brush against his. You look over at him and suddenly notice something green and round in his hand. “What’s that?” You ask. But you already know. You recognize the little brown spots and the wide eyes. 

Logan smirks, lifting the turtle up. “Couldn’t let you go home without him,” he says, holding it out towards you. 

“No way!” You shout, ignoring the turtle and throwing your arms around Logan’s neck. It’s instinctive, natural. He tugs you in closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. “Thank you so much,” you mumble into the crook of his neck. “I can’t believe you ended up playing a game at an arcade.” 

“I’d do anything for you,” he whispers against your temple. The sudden vulnerability of his words makes your heart tighten in your chest. You stay like that for a while, his lips ghosting your forehead, your chests pressed together. You finally lift your head, looking up at Logan. 

“Lo?” You whisper, and his gaze meets yours, flitting between your eyes and your lips. He drops the plushy onto the bench next to him and walks you back into the brick wall, caging you in, hands on either side of your waist. 

He leans in. “Yeah, pretty girl?” He brings one hand to your hip, gripping gently. “What do you need?”

“Y-you,” you stutter. “I need y—"

His lips swallow your words, fitting against yours like a puzzle piece. The kiss is slow, languid, but you can feel his need in the way he moves against you, hands slipping underneath the borrowed jacket and your shirt to explore your skin. His fingertips drag along your back, relaxing you into his touch. 

“Maybe we should get out of here,” Logan mumbles against your lips. 

Your heart flutters in your chest. “But what about the others?” You ask, nodding to the arcade.

Logan smirks, stealing another kiss. “All the more reason to get back to the mansion before they do.”

“But how are we going to—”

He grips your waist, tugging you towards the parking lot. “I took my bike, pretty girl.”

Oh?

Oh. 

tags: @ilysmdovie12 @prettyseaveins @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @silversprings-mp3 @movhoney @wittyjasontodd @theasiaabattoir @fanfic-writing-barbie @manipulatour @pedrohoe04 @derbygracie

[kingdomvel]

Steddie | 3.4k | ao3

five times people don't believe Steve and Eddie are dating + one time they have to

Made the silly post, decided to actually write it

1.

Eddie stops his van in front of Dustin’s house. His was the last stop of the drop off after the dnd session at Gareth’s house. Dustin turns towards Eddie. He is drumming his fingers on the wheel to the beat of the DIO song playing, never still. When Dustin doesn’t move, he turns to look at him with his eyebrows raised.

“Anything wrong, Henderson?”

He is looking at him with his big eyes and Dustin gulps. Even after everything they have been through, Dustin can’t help but feel nervous. There is still this feeling that tells him he has to try to impress Eddie, to be cool enough to be his friend.

“Will you teach me how to play guitar?” Dustin blurts before he chickens out.

Eddie looks at him with surprise, blinking a few times. He was clearly not expecting that question.

“Sure.”

“Wait- really?” Dustin is genuinely surprised. A part of him knew that Eddie wouldn’t say no, but he fully expected some teasing, some ‘what, Henderson, you wanna be like me?’ which. Yes. But he didn’t want Eddie to say it.

“Yeah dude, why not?”

Dustin lets out a delighted laugh and slaps the dashboard. “Yes! Thank you! When are we starting? Any time is good for me-“

“Calm down,” Eddie says with a chuckle.

“What about tomorrow? I can do tomorrow. I will bike to your house after school and you can teach me the basics or-“

“Calm down Henderson,” Eddie repeats louder. Dustin shuts up. “I can’t do tomorrow.”

Dustin’s heart breaks a little. “Why?”

“Because this humble bard has a date with Steve Harrington.” He has a stupid smile on his face when he says it.

There are a couple of seconds of silence and Dustin knows that he is pulling a face.

“Dude, don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?” Eddie looks baffled, almost offended, but there is a shiver going down Dustin’s spine.

“Like that! A date? Just say you are hanging out like a normal person.”

He is used to Eddie’s way of saying things, rarely in a normal way, but that was weird. Don’t get him wrong, he is very happy that Steve and Eddie have stopped acting like idiots every time Dustin mentioned the other and that they are hanging out now. But it’s still strange, seeing them actually getting along so well.

“If I’m going to have the King all to myself I am calling it a date.”

“STOOOP! It’s weird.”

“What is it Henderson?” Eddie says in a teasing tone as he leans towards Dustin. “Jealous that me and Steve are giving each other a bit of love?”

“Stop saying it like that!” Dustin screams. This would be so much weirder if Dustin didn’t know he is just teasing him. Maybe it was better when they were not friends.

The front door to his house opens, and Dustin scrambles to get out of the van before his mother can come and embarrass him more. The last thing he hears is Eddie’s crackling laugh.

2.

“Okay, what is happening?” Robin asks as soon as the door closes after the girl that had just rented Back to the Future.

“Something’s happening?” Steve sends a brief look around with a confused frown on his face before he looks at Robin.

“That girl.” Robin gestures to the door for emphasis.

Steve snorts, “yeah. Back to the Future? That’s funny.” He says as he crosses his arms in front of himself.

“That is not what this is about.”

“It’s not?”

“No! She was a babe!”

“Was she?” Steve looks at the door again, like he had not even seen the girl, like it had not even occurred to him to look at the girl. Robin could kill him.

“Yes! She was!”

“Did you want me to set you up with her? Because I will, you know that. Maybe we can have a code for that, you say- I don’t know- ‘have you watched Fast Times?’ and I will put my best wingman skills to use. I will get you a date in no time.”

Steve is the best friend Robin could ask for. He is also incredibly dumb and she is going to strangle him.

“I didn’t want you to set me up with her.”

“What’s the problem then?”

“The problem is that you are Steve Harrington and you didn’t even try to flirt with her! You should have been all over her, trying to get a date or her number. You haven’t been on a date in weeks! And it’s not even that you are striking out like in scoops, you are not even trying Steve. What is wrong with you?”

“What do you mean I haven’t been on a date in weeks, I was with Eddie just yesterday, I told you.” He has this confused frown on his face, like he seriously doesn’t understand where Robin is coming from.

“Steve, hanging out with Eddie doesn’t count as a date. Also, ew, don’t put that image in my head, I know he is our friend now or whatever and that you like hanging out with him but I would hope for you to have better taste than that.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that Eddie? Seriously? Did you see the stains on his mattress?”

Steve pulls a face, like had not thought about it before. “We’ll buy a new mattress.”

Robin looks at him, trying her best to communicate how gross she finds Eddie with her mind. Steve looks back at her with his eyebrows raised, daring her to say something else about Eddie.

The bell at the door interrupts them. It’s not a babe this time, just a normal guy, returning a tape. They act like the professionals they are until he is out of the door again.

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I didn’t flirt with him?” Steve asks, his hand gesturing to the door in that annoying way of his.

“No,” Robin says, but Steve doesn’t really wait for her answer before he continues talking.

“I didn’t because I am dating Eddie!”

“No you are not,” Robin answers with a snort.

“Yes I am.” Steve looks completely betrayed. “I am with him almost every day.”

“Oh, I know what is happening.” It’s so clear, so easy to understand now that Steve has said that. She puts her hands on Steve’s shoulders. He looks at her with a frown, a tilt of his head as he uncrosses his arms in confusion. “Steve.” She tries to convey as much seriousness as she can, just so Steve understands what is happening too. “Just because you have realised you like boys and he is gay and you two are hanging out, it doesn’t mean you two are dating.”

“Oh fu-“ he tries to move away from her but she clutches his shoulders tightly.

“You have to learn how to have friends your age, Steve. Remember when you though you liked me? I got away because I don’t like boys, and Eddie does! But that doesn’t mean he is into you!”

Steve rolls her eyes at her. The audacity. He bats her arms away with more easiness than Robin would like to admit. “Whatever.” He just says.

3.

“Steve”

“Mike” Steve answers in the same serious tone. If not a bit confused. Mike had followed him inside when he had come to get some drinks. He can still hear the others in the pool outside.

“I saw you speaking with Nancy.” Mike states. They had been speaking, close, too close. “And Dustin told me you were making eyes at her during the Vecna thing.”

“What?” Steve whispers as he shakes his head while he takes the drinks out of the fridge.

“Anything to say to defend yourself?” Mike asks him. He crosses his arms, tries to put on a serious pose. Intimidating, as much as he can.

“Listen,” Steve starts, he turns towards Mike him and leans back on the counter. He crosses his arms, and it makes Mike shift, conscious of his own crossed arms. He doesn’t like his tone, as if he is talking to a kid. “I know you are still pissy about me dating your sister, for some reason,” he uncrosses one of his arms to say it. “But she is with Jonathan now and I am totally over her.” Mike just squints at him. He doesn’t believe him. Everyone knows that Steve is not over Nancy. “Totally! I mean it. I’m dating Eddie now.” He says it like it’s a question.

Mike snorts. That is the stupidest lie Steve could have come up with to try to get out of this. “As if.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Eddie is too cool to date you.”

“He is too- I’ve saved your life,” he points to Mike.

“Eddie is still cooler.”

Steve takes a deep breath and Mike doesn’t really want to hear what Steve is going to say to defend himself. Thankfully he doesn’t say anything, his mouth closing as his eyes drift someplace behind Mike.

“I was promised beer,” Eddie’s voice comes from behind Mike.

“You’d have it if Mike here hadn’t decided to give me shit,” Steve answers as he moves to open a can of beer and hands it to Eddie when he gets to him.

“Just-“ Mike huffs. “Don’t get any ideas with my sister.” He says it as he points to Steve while he walks back outside.

Mike doesn’t stay to see Steve’s reaction, but he hears Eddie say “anything I should be worried about?” before the noise of the others drowns everything else.

4.

Max and Eleven giggle as the stand outside of the window to Eddie’s room. He is inside, they can see the lump inside the sheets and the mess of curls on the pillow. They look at each other and nod with a grin before they start banging on the window and shouting his name.

Eddie starts on the bed, Max could swear he lifts a few centimetres from the bed she can hear him scream ‘jesus christ’ through the window before he turns towards them with a squint. He sits up on the bed and reaches across to open the window, he is not wearing a shirt, so they have a full view of all his tattoos. It’s not like Max ever wants to see them so close, but she knows El likes them.

“What the FUCK Mayfield,” he asks, but it doesn’t sound like a question. Then, after a second of him squinting and them more. “Mini Hopper.”

Max doesn’t answer, because behind Eddie another lump is raising from the bed and looking at them with a squint. “Max? Is anything wrong?” Steve asks as he rubs his face and hair with the hand that is not currently propping him up.

“I…” Max starts, but she doesn’t continue. Sure, she had seen Steve shirtless at the boat that one time when they were going after Vecna, but it was nighttime and she had to look through some shitty binoculars.

Eddie reaches a hand back to try to push Steve back down, but it doesn’t really work. He just pushes his face, and Steve lets himself be pushed, just for a bit, before he is straightening again.

“Hey, hey,” Eddie says as he snaps his fingers in front of Max. It works on bringing her attention back to him. “Anything wrong?”

Max shakes her head.

“Are you having a sleepover? I also sleep with Max when we have a sleepover,” El asks.

Eddie looks between them for a couple of seconds before he says, “sure we are.”

It just sounds like he just wants to get rid of them.

“You boys are gross, can’t you put a shirt on?” Max asks. Billy was always walking around shirtless too.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Eddie just replies.

“Did anything happen?” Steve insists.

“We had a sleepover,” El says.

“Yeah, gathered that,” Eddie deadpans.

“We came so you will take us out for pancakes.”

Eddie groans as he lets himself fall back on the bed and looks up at Steve.

“I totally blame you for this being my life now, just so you know.”

Steve just laughs and pushes his face to the side. Max pulls a face, their friendship must be one of the weirdest things that has come out of the whole Vecna thing. Steve turns towards them with a stupid smile on his face.

“Go get your things, we will be out in ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes?!” Eddie protests, but Max and El don’t pay attention to him, already celebrating and running back to Max’s.

The last thing she sees is Steve leaning down towards Eddie with a hand on his face out of the corner of her eye, but she doesn’t really put much thought to it.

5.

Lucas loves having Steve to play with. After all the Vecna stuff, he didn’t really want to hang out with the guys from basketball all that much, so Steve had stepped up. He had bought a hoop for his big driveway for them to practise and everything.

The day is hot, and they have been going at it for hours, so they are both sweaty and tired. They are at Steve’s driveway. It’s just them, sweaty under the sun, and Eddie sitting on a folding chair on the side, for some reason. He was already here when Lucas had arrived, and he had refused to leave. He is on the shade, reading a book, looking way more comfortable than them.

“Pause for drinks?” Steve asks, and Lucas is very happy to agree with him. “Hey!” he yells towards Eddie, he jumps as he looks up. “Don’t think I don’t see you looking at me like a creep. You should be getting us drinks.”

“Sorry sweetheart.” Eddie shouts back as he waves his book.

“Drinks, now.” Steve says with a jerk of his head towards the house.

Eddie drops the book in his haste to stand up and follow Steve inside. They are weird, they act so weird all the time. They should get girlfriends, that way they would maybe stop being weird with each other.

“You want anything, Lucas?” Steve asks as he walks away.

“Just a soda!” Lucas calls out after them.

Steve gives him a thumbs up as he goes through the door.

It’s ten minutes later that Lucas starts to wonder what’s taking them so long. He got tired of practising shoots, and also of sitting down on the grass waiting for them.

The house is blessedly chilly and dark when he comes in.

“Steve?” he calls out.

He walks towards the kitchen. There is sound coming from it, shuffling. When he gets close enough to the kitchen he hears Eddie speak quietly.

“Were you afraid your neighbours might see, big boy?”

“Shut up,” Steve answers. Then there are some wet sounds and when Lucas comes into the kitchen Steve is all over Eddie and-

“DUDE!” Lucas screams. Steve jumps away from Eddie. “What are you doing? What if Robin had seen you?”

Steve looks around. “What?”

“Dustin said you like Robin, what if she was here and she saw you…” he can’t even describe what they were doing, he just knows that if some girl saw that, she would never consider dating Steve.

“I don’t want to date Robin, why does everyone think I want to date Robin?” Steve says.

Lucas doesn’t answer. He just looks at Steve. If it’s not Robin, it’s Nancy, for sure. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell her, or anyone.”

Eddie laughs like a maniac, Lucas just squints at him and goes to grab his soda.

+1

Robin is not sure how they have ended up here. At the Hideout. On a Tuesday. With all the kids and Eddie’s band helping them get ready before even the freaking owner has arrived. She doesn’t know what about Eddie he thought was reliable enough to give him the keys to the bar, but she guesses it’s ‘I don’t want to go work early because some teenagers want to set up their instruments to play their shitty music’. It works for them though, because the kids had been saying how much they wanted to see them play, but they are not allowed to come into the bar when it’s open, so they have come extra early so they can listen to a couple of songs before people start arriving.

“Hey lovebirds!” A voice shouts. It’s one of Eddie’s bandmates. Gareth, Robin thinks he is called. “Stop being disgusting and come here so we can start?”

Robin turns to look for who he could be calling out for. Nancy and Jonathan have not come today, and everyone is in the stage area, everyone except…

“Did you just call Steve and Eddie lovebirds?”

“Yeah, since they started dating they’ve been unbearable.”

“DATING?” Dustin shrieks beside them.

“Shit, sorry, was that supposed to be a secret?” Gareth asks, and he sounds genuinely scared. Robin would normally appreciate it but-

“Oh, you think they are actually dating?” Dustin asks, but it doesn’t sound like a question, more like a realisation.

“Aren’t they?” Jeff asks.

“No, no, it’s just Eddie saying weird things.” Dustin dismisses, but Robin is frozen in place, the cogs in her mind turning.

“You are not dating?” Gareth asks to the side and yep, there Eddie and Steve are, now close to them. Eddie has his arm around Steve’s shoulder and they are leaning against each other.

Shit.

“We are,” Steve says easily. “They just don’t believe us.” Eddie bumps his head against Steve’s and he moves his head slightly away with an annoyed look that looks more fond than anything else.

Robin and Dustin are gaping at them and, from the sudden quiet around them she guesses the rest are too.

“Wait you two are actually dating?!” Lucas voice comes from behind them. “But Dustin said you weren’t going out with anyone because you liked Robin?”

That shakes Robin out of it, if only to turn around and say, “Ew, no.” Doesn’t matter who he is talking to.

“And I told Mike and Robin I was dating Eddie,” Steve says. “And you saw us kissing.”

“Yeah but- I don’t know.”

Eddie’s bandmates are now dying of laughter, Robin can’t even blame them.

“How was I supposed to believe you were telling the truth!” Robin exclaims. That provokes more laughs.

“Wait,” Max intervenes. “So that day you were sleeping together without a shirt…” She trails off, but they all see in her face what she just realised. “Gross!”

“Oh shut up Mayfield,” Eddie says. “I saw you looking at my boyfriend’s tits.”

That shuts Max up.

“You really are dating Steve?” Mike asks.

“Yes, and no stupid comments or your character is dead Wheeler.” Eddie states, pointing to Mike with the arm that is not around Steve.

And that shuts Mike up with a huff and a shake of his head.

“So you two are boyfriends?” El asks. “I think that’s cute.”

“Thanks El,” Steve says.

“I can’t believe you got with a boy before I got with a girl!” Robin exclaims. “And I didn’t know!”

“You would have known if you had believed me!” Steve exclaims back.

“Well sorry for thinking about your dating record and drawing conclusions.”

“Okay, okay,” Gareth interrupts them. “As funny as this is, we need to start now if we want to play anything before the owner arrives.”

“Let’s get this party going,” Eddie exclaims. He moves away from Steve to grab his guitar, and then goes back to Steve and kisses him on the lips. Actually kisses him on the lips in front of everyone, and Steve doesn’t really react except from a smile because why would he? They have been boyfriends for weeks apparently. “Be back in a minute sweetheart.”

Robin fake gags.

Steve moves to stand next to Robin. He has this shit eating grin on his face that Robin can’t stand.

“Shut up,” she says.

Eddie is on the stage now, looking at them with a stupid smile on his face. She should have known they were dating.

“Told you so,” Steve just says.

[peapod20001]

Hello y’all should send me music to listen to

[catboyieejeno]

NEED MORE BF MARKKK

bf! mark would be so, so easy to love effortlessly.

Just imagine the way he’d show up on your first date—a little nervous but doing his best to hide it with that signature easygoing smile. He’d bring a hoodie or jacket for you “just in case it gets cold,” with that mix of boyish charm and thoughtfulness that makes your heart race. Might overdo it with the cologne ngl... but it's unbelievably endearing.

"Jeno. Smell this."

Jeno snorts, pushing it back. “Dude, I’m not smelling your sweatshirt.”

“Come on, man. Just smell it.” Mark insists, wiggling the fabric at him.

With a sigh, Jeno brings it to his nose and takes a cautious sniff—then immediately recoils, gagging and waving his hand in front of his face.

“Bro, did you dunk this in cologne?” He gasps, holding it at arm’s length. “She’s gonna need a gas mask just to survive.”

Mark frowns, glancing at the sweatshirt. “I thought it needed a couple sprays…”

As things get more serious, he’d make a habit of sending you little surprises that show he’s thinking of you. You’d find a random playlist from him waiting in your messages one day, labeled “For you” with the one giggling emoji, filled with tracks he thinks you’d love. He’d stay up late making it, mulling over how you’ll react to each song.

He’d invite you to hang out with his friends one weekend, blending you seamlessly into his life. When you’re there, you’d see his quiet, protective side come out—he’d stay close to you, keeping an arm around the back of your chair or brushing a hand over your shoulder to make sure you’re comfortable. He might not even realize he’s doing it, but everyone would notice the way he softens around you, the way he’s always got a careful eye on you, ensuring you're having a good time. If you so much as shiver, he’d immediately offer his jacket with a shy, “Here, just take it, okay?”

And if he sees that you’re having a rough day, he wouldn’t ask too many questions or push you to talk; he’d just show up with your favorite drink or snack, a hoodie, and some silly videos he’s saved just to see you laugh. When you’re ready to open up, he’d listen so intently, holding your hand, never interrupting.

When he’d kiss you, it would start out gentle, with him leaning in a little slowly, his eyes flicking to yours to make sure to watch how dazed you become when he gets so close. His lips would be soft, barely brushing against yours at first, before he’d press in a little deeper, savoring the feeling. He’d hold your face in his hands or let his thumb trace along your jaw, taking his time. He might laugh softly into the kiss, his hands slipping to your waist to pull you closer or just hold your hips, rubbing slow circles on your skin or squeezing if you make any kind of sound. God, hearing you hum or moan during a kiss would absolutely drive him insane.

"Just like that," he'd mumble, "I love the pretty sounds you make for me."

"You like it when I kiss you there?" and if you didn't answer, he'd let his hips hover, not giving you what you want.

"How about this?" A kiss on your shoulder, "Hmm?" another on your chest, "Is this okay?"

"Shit, baby, c'mere." if you've been kissing anywhere but his lips for too long, he always finds himself craving them.

His lips would be anywhere, on the corner of your lips, on your cheek, your jaw, your neck... fingers trailing on your waist and squeezing your flesh. I feel like he's on the shyer side when the two of you are doing mindless tasks or around friends, but for some reason, when he's so wrapped up in you in these private moments, he'd groan and whimper without restraint. There's a sliver of shyness left, a tell being his flushed skin and the way he'd bite his lips, but otherwise, he's giving you his all.